CHAPTER XII.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF LUCRETIUS.

The peculiarity of the poem of Lucretius, that which makes it unique

in literature, is the fact that it is a long sustained argument

in verse. The prosaic title of the poem, 'De rerum natura,'--a

translation of the Greek [Greek: peri physeos],--indicates that the

method of exposition was adopted, not primarily with the view of

affecting the imagination, but with that of communicating truth in

a reasoned system. In the lines, in which the poet most confidently

asserts his genius, he professes to fulfil the three distinct offices

of a philosophical teacher, a moral reformer, and a poet,--

Primum quod magnis doceo de rebus et artis

Religionum animum nodis exsolvere pergo,

Deinde quod obscura de re tam lucida pango

Carmina, musaeo contingens cuncta lepore[1].

We have, accordingly, to examine the poem in three different

aspects:--

I. as the exposition of a system of speculative philosophy.

II. as an attempt to emancipate and reform human life.

III. as a work of poetical art and genius.

But these three aspects, though they may be considered separately, are

not really independent of one another. The speculative ideas on which

the system of philosophy is ultimately based impart confidence and

elevation to the moral teaching, and new meaning and imaginative

grandeur to the interpretation of Nature and of human life, on

which the permanent value of the poem depends. Thus, although the

philosophical argument, which forms as it were the skeleton of the

work, is in many places barren and uninteresting, yet it is necessary

to master it before we can form a true estimate of the personality

of the poet, of the main passion and labour of his life, of the full

meaning of his thought, and the full compass of his poetic genius.

Moreover, the study of the argument is interesting on its own account.

In no other work are the strength and the weakness of ancient physical

philosophy so apparent. If the poem of Lucretius adds nothing to the

knowledge of scientific facts, it throws a powerful light on one phase

of the ancient mind. It is a witness of the eager imagination and of

the searching thought of that early time, which endeavoured, by the

force of individual thinkers and the intuitions of genius, to solve a

problem which is perhaps beyond the reach of the human faculties,

and to explain, at a single glance, secrets of Nature which have

only slowly been revealed to the patient labours and combined

investigations of many generations of enquirers.

I.--EXAMINATION OF THE ARGUMENT.

I. The philosophical system expounded in the poem is the atomic theory

of Democritus[2], in the form in which it was accepted by Epicurus,

and made the basis of his moral and religious doctrines. Lucretius

lays no claim to original discovery as a philosopher: he professes

only to explain, in his native language, 'Graiorum obscura reperta.'

His originality consists, not in any expansion or modification of the

Epicurean doctrine, but in the new life which he has imparted to its

exposition, and in the poetical power with which he has applied it to

reveal the secret of the life of Nature and of man's true position

in the world. After enunciating the first principles of the atomic

philosophy, he discusses in the last four books of the poem some

special applications of that doctrine, which formed part of the

physical system of Epicurus. But the extent to which he carries these

discussions is limited by the practical purpose which he has in view.

The impelling motive of all his labour is the impulse to purify

human life, and, especially, to emancipate it from the terrors of

superstition. The source of these terrors is traced to the general

ignorance of certain facts in Nature,--ignorance, namely, of the

constitution and condition of our souls and bodies, of the means

by which the world came into existence and is still maintained, and

lastly, of the causes of many natural phenomena, which are attributed

to the direct agency of the gods. With the view of establishing

knowledge in the room of ignorance on these questions, it is

necessary, in the first place, to give a full account of the original

principles of being: and to this enquiry the two first books of the

poem are devoted. Had his purpose been merely speculative, the subject

of the fifth book,--viz. the origin of the world, of life, and of

human society,--would naturally have been treated immediately after

the exposition of these first principles. But the order of treatment

is determined by the immediate object of attacking the chief

stronghold of superstition: and, accordingly, the third and fourth

books contain an examination of the nature of the soul, a proof of

its non-existence after death, and an explanation of the origin of the

belief in a future state. In the fifth and sixth books an attempt

is made to show that the creation and preservation of the world, the

origin and progress of human society, and the phenomena of thunder,

tempests, volcanoes, and the like, are the results of natural laws,

without Divine intervention. Although he sometimes carries his

argument into greater detail than is necessary for his purpose, and

addresses himself to the reform of other evils to which the human

heart is liable, yet his whole treatment of his subject is determined

by the thought of the irreconcilable opposition between the truths of

Nature and the falsehood of the ancient religions. The key-note to the

argument is contained in the lines, which recur as a kind of prelude

to the successive stages on which it enters, in the first, second,

third, and sixth books:--

Hunc igitur terrorem animi tenebrasque necessest

Non radii solis neque lucida tela diei

Discutiant, sed naturae species ratioque[3].

The action of the poem might be described as the gradual defeat of the

ancient dominion of superstition by the new knowledge of Nature. This

meaning seems to be symbolised in its magnificent introduction, where

the genial, all-pervading Power--the source of order, beauty, and

delight in the world and in the heart of man,--and the grim phantom of

superstition--

Horribili super aspectu mortalibus instans,--

the cause of ignorance, degradation, and misery,--are vividly

personified and presented in close contrast with one another. The

thought, thus symbolised, pervades the poem. The processes of Nature

are explained not chiefly for the purpose of satisfying the love of

knowledge (although this end is incidentally attained), but as the

means of establishing light in the room of darkness, peace in the room

of terror, faith in the laws and the facts of the universe in the room

of a base dependence on capricious and tyrannical Powers.

What then was this philosophy which supplied to Lucretius an answer

to the perplexities of existence? The object contemplated by all the

early systems of ontology was the discovery of the original substance

or substances out of which all existing things were created, and which

alone remained permanent amid the changing aspects of the visible

world. Various systems, of a semi-physical, semi-metaphysical

character, were founded on the answers given by the earliest enquirers

to this question. In the first book of the poem several of these

theories are discussed. Lucretius, following Epicurus, adopts the

answer given by Democritus to this question, that the original

substances were the 'atoms and the void'--[Greek: atoma kai

kenon]. After the invocation and the address to Memmius, and the

representation of the universal tyranny exercised by superstition

until its power was overcome by Epicurus, and after a summary of the

various topics to be treated in order to banish this influence from

the world, he lays down this principle as the starting-point of his

argument,--that no existing thing is formed out of nothing by divine

agency--

Nullam rem e nilo gigni divinitus unquam.

The apprehension of this principle--a principle common to all the

ontological systems of antiquity--is the first step in the enquiry,

as to what are the original substances out of which all creation

comes into being and is maintained. The proof of this principle is

the manifest order and causation recognisable in the world. If things

could arise out of nothing, all existence would be confused and

capricious. The regularity of Nature subsists--

Materies quia rebus reddita certast

Gignundis e qua constat quid possit oriri.

The complement of this first principle is the proposition that nothing

is annihilated, but all existences are resolved into their ultimate

elements. As the first is a necessary inference from the existence of

universal order, the second is proved by the perpetuity of creation

and the observed transformation of things into one another.

The original substances out of which all things are produced, and into

which they are ultimately resolved, are found to be certain

primordial particles of matter or atoms, which are called by various

names--'materies,' 'genitalia corpora,' 'semina rerum,' 'corpora

prima.' Some of these names, it may be observed, are expressive not

only of their primordial character, but also of a germinative or

productive power. The objection that these atoms are invisible to our

senses is met by showing that there are many invisible forces acting

in Nature, the effects of which prove that they must be bodies,--

Corporibus caecis igitur natura gerit res.

In addition to bodily substance there must also be vacuum or space;

otherwise there could be no motion in the universe, and without motion

nothing could come into being. The existence of matter is proved by

our senses, of vacuum by the necessity of there being space for matter

to move in, and also by the varying density of bodies. But besides

body and vacuum there is no other absolute substance--

Ergo praeter inane et corpora tertia per se

Nulla potest rerum in numero natura relinqui[4].

All material bodies are either elemental substances or compounded

out of a union of these substances. The elemental substances are

indestructible and indivisible. This is proved by the necessities of

thought (i. 498, etc.) and of Nature. If there were no ultimate limit

to the divisibility of these substances, if there were not something

immutable underlying all phenomena, there could be no law or order

in the world. The existence and ultimate constitution of the atoms is

thus enunciated--

Sunt igitur solida primordia simplicitate

Quae minimis stipata cohaerent partibus arte,

Non ex illarum conventu conciliata,

Sed magis aeterna pollentia simplicitate,

Unde neque avelli quicquam neque deminui iam

Concedit natura reservans semina rebus[5].

At this stage in the argument, from line 635 to 920 of Book I, the

first principles of other philosophies, and particularly of the

systems of Heraclitus, Empedocles, and Anaxagoras, are discussed at

considerable length, and shown to be inconsistent with the actual

appearance of things and with the principles already established.

The argument starts anew at line 920, and it is shown that the

atoms must be infinite in number, and space infinite in extent;--the

contrary supposition being both inconceivable and incompatible with

the origin, preservation, and renewal of all existing things. It is

shown also that the existing order of things has not come into being

through design, but by infinite experiments through infinite time.

The doctrine that all things tend to a centre is denied, and the book

concludes with the imaginative presentation of the thought that, if

matter were not infinite, the whole visible fabric of the world would

perish in a moment, 'and leave not a rack behind.'

The second book opens with an impressive passage, in which the

security and charm of the contemplative life is contrasted with the

restless anxieties and alarms of the life of worldly ambition. The

argument then proceeds to explain the process by which these atoms,

primordial, indestructible, and infinite in number, combine together

in infinite space, so as to carry on the birth, growth, and decay of

all things. While the sum of things always remains the same, there

is constant change in all phenomena. This is explicable only on the

supposition of the original elements being in eternal motion. The

atoms are borne through space, either by their own weight, or by

contact with one another, with a rapidity of motion far beyond that

of any visible bodies. All motion is naturally in a downward direction

and in parallel lines, but to account for the contact of the atoms

with one another it must be supposed that in their movements they make

a slight declension from the straight line at uncertain intervals.

This liability to declension is the sole thing to break the chain of

necessity--'quod fati foedera rumpat.' It is through this liability in

the primal elements that volition in living beings becomes possible.

As the sum of matter in the universe is constant, so the motions of

the atoms always have been and always will be the same[6]. All things

are in ceaseless motion, although they may present to our senses the

appearance of perfect rest.

It is necessary further to assume the existence of other properties

in the atoms, in order to account for the variety in Nature, and the

individuality of existing things. They have original differences in

form; some are smooth, others round, others rough, others hooked, &c.

These varieties in form are not infinite, but limited in number.

As the diversity in the world depends on the diversity of these forms,

the order and regularity of Nature imply that there is a limit to

these varieties. But while they are limited, the individuals of each

kind are infinite, otherwise the primordial atoms would be finite in

number, and there could be no cohesion among atoms of the same kind,

in the vast and chaotic sea of matter--

Unde ubi qua vi et quo pacto congressa coibunt

Materiae tanto in pelago turbaque aliena[7]?

The motions which tend to the support and the destruction of created

things are balanced by one another: there must be an equilibrium in

these opposing forces--

Sic aequo geritur certamine principiorum

Ex infinito contractum tempore bellum[8].

Death and birth succeed one another, as now the vitalising, now the

destructive forces gain the upper hand.

Further, the great diversity in Nature is to be accounted for by

diversity, not only in the original forms of matter, but also in their

modes of combination. No existing thing is composed solely of one kind

of atoms. The greater the variety of forces and powers which anything

displays, the greater is the variety of the elements out of which it

was originally composed. Of all visible objects the earth contains the

greatest number of elements; therefore it has justly obtained the

name of the universal mother. There is however a limit to the modes

in which atoms can combine with one another: each nature appropriates

elements suitable to its being and rejects those unsuitable. All

existing things differ from one another in consequence of the

difference in their elements and in their modes of combination. The

different modes of combination give rise to many of the secondary

properties of matter, which are not in the original elements. Colour,

for instance, is not one of the original properties of atoms: for

all colour is changeable, and all change implies the death of what

previously existed. Moreover, colour depends on light, and the atoms

never come forth into the light. The atoms are also devoid of heat and

cold, of sound, taste, and smell. All these properties must be kept

distinct from the original elements--

Immortalia si volumus subiungere rebus

Fundamenta quibus nitatur summa salutis;

Ne tibi res redeant ad nilum funditus omnes[9].

Further, although they are the origin of all living and sentient

things, the atoms themselves are devoid of sense and life, otherwise

they would be liable to death. All living things are merely results

of the constant changes in the primordial elements contained in the

heavens and the earth. Hence the heaven is addressed as the father,

the earth as the mother, of all things that have life.

Finally, from the infinity of space and matter, it may be inferred

that there are infinite other worlds and systems beside our own. Many

elements were added from the infinite universe to our system before it

reached maturity: and many indications prove that the period of growth

is now past, and that we are living in the old age of the world.

The sum of the first two books, in which the principles of the atomic

philosophy are methodically unfolded and illustrated, is, accordingly,

to this effect:--that all things have their origin in, and are

sustained by, the various combinations and motions of solid elemental

atoms, infinite in number, various in form, but not infinite in the

variety of their forms,--not perceptible to our senses, and themselves

devoid of sense, of colour, and of all the secondary properties of

matter. These atoms, by virtue of their ultimate conditions,

are capable only of certain combinations with one another. These

combinations have been brought about by perpetual motion, through

infinite space and through all eternity. As the order of things now

existing has come into being, so it must one day perish. Only the

atoms will permanently remain, moving unceasingly through space, and

forming new combinations with one another.

These first principles being established, the way is made clear for

the true explanation, according to natural laws, of those phenomena

which give rise to and maintain the terrors of superstition.

The third book treats of the nature of the mind, and of the vital

principle. As it is by the fear of death, and of eternal torment after

death, that human life is most disturbed, it is necessary to explain

the nature of the soul, and to show that it perishes in death along

with the body.

The mind and the vital principle are parts of the man as much as

the hands, feet, or any other members. The mind is the directing

principle, seated in the centre of the breast. The vital principle is

diffused over the whole body, obedient to and in close sympathy with

the mind. The power which the mind has in moving the body proves its

own corporeal nature, as motion cannot take place without touch, nor

touch without the presence of a bodily substance.

The soul (including both the mind and vital principle) is, therefore,

material, formed of the finest or minutest atoms, as is proved by

the extreme rapidity of its movement, and by the fact that there is

nothing lost in appearance or weight immediately after death:--

Quod simul atque hominem leti secura quies est

Indepta atque animi natura animaeque recessit,

Nil ibi libatum de toto corpore cernas

Ad speciem, nil ad pondus: mors omnia praestat

Vitalem praeter sensum calidumque vaporem[10].

Four distinct elements enter into the composition of the soul--heat,

wind, calm air, and a finer essence 'quasi anima animai.' The variety

of disposition in men and animals depends on the proportion in which

these elements are mixed.

The soul is the guardian of the body, inseparably united with it, as

the odour is with frankincense; nor can the soul be disconnected from

the body without its own destruction. This intimate union of soul and

body is proved by many facts. They are born, they grow, and they decay

together. The mind is liable to disease, like the body. Its affections

are often dependent on bodily conditions. The difficulties of

imagining the state of the soul as existing independently of the

body are next urged; and the book concludes with a long passage of

sustained elevation of feeling, in which the folly and the weakness of

fearing death are passionately insisted upon.

The fourth book, which treats of the images which all objects cast off

from themselves, and, in connexion with that subject, of the senses

generally, and of the passion of love, is intimately connected with

the preceding book. If there is no life after death, what is the

origin of the universal belief in the existence of the souls of

the departed? Images cast off from the surface of bodies, and borne

incessantly through space without force or feeling, appearing to

the living sometimes in sleep and sometimes in waking visions, have

suggested the belief in the ghosts of the dead, and in many of the

portents of ancient mythology. The rapid formation and motion of these

images and their great number are explained by various analogies. Some

apparent deceptions of the senses are next mentioned and explained.

These deceptions are shown to be not in the senses, but in our minds

not rightly interpreting their intimations. There is no error in the

action of the senses. They are our 'prima fides'--the foundation of

all knowledge and of all conduct--

Non modo enim ratio ruat omnis, vita quoque ipsa

Concidat extemplo, nisi credere sensibus ausis[11].

Images that are too fine to act on the senses sometimes directly

affect the soul itself. Discordant images unite together in the air,

and present the appearance of Centaurs, Scyllas, and the like. In

sleep, images of the dead--

Morte obita quorum tellus amplectitur ossa[12],--

appear, and give rise to the belief in the existence of ghosts.

The mind sees in dreams the objects in which it is most interested,

because, although all kinds of images are present, it can discern only

those of which it is expectant.

Several other questions are discussed in connexion with the doctrine

of the 'simulacra.' The final cause of the senses and the appetites is

denied, and, by implication, the argument from design founded on the

belief in final causes. The use of everything is discovered through

experience. We do not receive the sense of sight in order that we may

see, but having got the sense of sight, we use it--

Nil ideo quoniam natumst in corpore ut uti

Possemus, sed quod natumst id procreat usum[13].

There follows an account of sleep, and of the condition of the mind

during that state; and the book concludes with a physical account of

the passion of love, which is dependent on the action of the simulacra

on the mind. Love is shown also to arise from natural causes, and

not to be engendered by divine influence. The fatal consequences

of yielding to the passion are then enforced with much poetical and

satiric power.

The object of the fifth book is to explain the formation of our

system--of earth, sea, sky, sun, and moon,--the origin of life upon

the earth, and the advance of human nature from a savage state to the

arts and usages of civilisation. The purpose of these discussions is

to show that all our system was produced and is maintained by natural

agency, that it is neither itself divine nor created by divine power,

and that, as it has come into existence, so it must one day perish.

As the parts of our system,--earth, water, air, and heat,--are

perishable, and constantly passing through processes of decay and

renovation, the system must have had a beginning, and will have

an end. There must at last be an end of the long war between the

contending elements.

The world came into existence as the result not of design, but

of every variety of combination in the elemental atoms throughout

infinite time. Originally all were confused together. Gradually those

that had mutual affinities combined and separated themselves from the

rest. The earthy particles sank to the centre. The elemental particles

of the empyrean (aether ignifer) formed the 'moenia mundi.' The sun

and moon were formed out of the particles that were neither heavy

enough to combine with the earth, nor light enough to ascend to the

highest heaven. Finally, the liquid particles separated from the

earth and formed the sea. Highest above all is the empyrean, entirely

separated from the storms of the lower air, and moving round with its

stars by its own impetus. The earth is at rest in the centre of our

system, supported by the air, as our body is by the vital principle.

The movements of the stars and of the sun and moon through the heavens

are next explained; then the origin of vegetable and animal life on

the earth, and the beginning and progress of human society.

First plants and trees, afterwards men and animals, were produced from

the earth in the early and vigorous prime of the world. Many of the

animals originally produced afterwards became extinct. Those only

were capable of continuation which had either some faculty of

self-preservation against others, or were useful to man, and so

shared his protection. The existence of monsters such as Scylla, the

Centaurs, the Chimaera, is shown to be impossible according to the

natural laws of production.

The earliest condition of man was one of savage vigour and power of

endurance, but liable to danger and destruction from many causes.

The first humanising influence is traced to domestic union and the

affection inspired by children--

Et Venus inminuit viris puerique parentum

Blanditiis facile ingenium fregere superbum[14].

The origin of language is next explained, then that of civil society,

of religion, and of the arts,--the general conclusion being that all

progress is the result of natural experience, not of divine guidance.

The last source of superstition is our ignorance of the causes of

natural phenomena--

Praesertim rebus in illis

Quae supera caput aetheriis cernuntur in oris[15].

Hence the sixth book is devoted to the explanation of thunderstorms,

tempests, volcanoes, earthquakes, and the like,--phenomena which are

generally attributed to the direct agency of the gods. The whole work

terminates with an account of the Plague at Athens, closely following

that given by Thucydides.

The first question which arises after a review of the whole argument

is that suggested by the statement of Jerome, and brought into

prominence since the publication of Lachmann's edition of Lucretius,

viz. whether there is good reason for believing that the poem was left

by the author in an unfinished state. In answering this question, it

is to be observed, on the one hand, that there is no incompleteness

in the fulfilment of the original plan of the work, unless from one

or two hints[16] we conclude that the poet intended giving a fuller

account of the blessed state of the Gods than that given at iii.

17-24. He announces at i. 54, etc., and again at i. 127, etc., the

design of the poem as embracing the first principles of natural

philosophy, and the application of these principles to certain special

subjects, viz. the nature of soul and body, the origin of the belief

in ghosts, the natural causes of creation, and the meaning of certain

celestial phenomena.

The practical purpose of the poem--the overthrow of

superstition--limits the argument to these subjects of discussion.

They are severally mentioned where the argument is resumed in Books

iii, iv, v, and vi, as those matters which require a clear explanation

from the poet. All the topics enunciated in the opening statement

are discussed with the utmost fulness. The great strongholds of

superstition are attacked and overthrown in regular succession. In the

introduction to the sixth book, the lines (91-95)

Tu mihi supremae praescribta ad candida calcis, etc.

clearly show that the poet considered himself approaching the end of

his task.

But, on the other hand, an examination of the poem in detail leads to

the conclusion that it did not receive its author's final touch. The

continuity of the argument is occasionally broken in all the books

except the first. In the fourth, fifth, and sixth, especially, these

breaks are very frequent, and there are more frequent instances in

them of repetition and careless workmanship. They extend also to a

greater length than the earlier books, which would naturally be the

case if they had not received the author's final revision. The poem

throughout gives the impression of great fulness of matter--

Usque adeo largos haustus e fontibu' magnis

Lingua meo suavis diti de pectore fundet;--

and in the composition of these later books, new suggestions seem to

have been constantly occurring to the poet as new materials were added

to his stores of knowledge: and the first draft of his argument has

not been recast so as to incorporate and harmonise them with it. The

passages containing these new materials appear to have been fitted

into the place which they now occupy in the work, not always very

judiciously, either by Cicero or some other editor.

It was also part of the author's design to enunciate his deepest

thoughts on the Gods, on Nature, and on human life in more highly

finished digressions from the main argument. Such passages are, in

general, introduced at the beginning and the end of the different

books. They seem to bring out the more catholic interest which

underlies the special subject of the poem. Some of these passages are

highly finished, and were evidently fixed by the poet in the

places which he designed them to occupy. Such are, especially,

the introductions to the first, second, and third books, and the

concluding passages of the second and third. But the repetition of a

passage of the first book as the introduction to the fourth, the

long break in the continuity of the introduction to the fifth, the

unfinished style of that to the sixth, and the abrupt and episodical

conclusion to the whole poem (when contrasted with its elaborately

artistic introduction), show that the same cause which marred the

symmetry of his argument deprived it of the finished execution of a

work of art. Yet these books--especially the fifth--are as rich in

poetical feeling and substance as the earlier ones. The eye and hand

of the master are as powerful as in the first enthusiasm with which

he dedicated himself to his task, but they are less certain in their

action. Whether his powers became intermittent owing to the attacks

of illness, or whether his habit was to work roughly in the first

instance and to perfect his work by subsequent revision, which in

the case of his latest labours was prevented by death, must remain

uncertain. It is a noticeable result of the vastness of the tasks

which Roman genius set before itself, that two such works as the

didactic poem of Lucretius and the Aeneid of Virgil were left

unfinished by their authors, and given to the world in a more or less

imperfect condition by other hands.

The poem, though incomplete in regard to the arrangement of its

materials and artistic finish, presents a full and clear view of the

philosophy accepted and expounded by Lucretius. What, then, is the

intellectual interest and value of the work, considered as a great

argument, in which the plan of Nature is explained, and the position

of man in relation to that plan is determined? Is it true, as an

illustrious modern critic[17] has said, that 'the greatest didactic

poem in any language was written in defence of the silliest and

meanest of all systems of natural and moral philosophy'? Is this work

a mere maze of ingeniously woven error, enriched with a few brilliant

colours which have not yet faded with the lapse of time? or is it a

great monument of the ancient mind, marking indeed its limitations,

but at the same time perpetuating the memory of its native strength

and energy? Has all the meaning of this controversy between science in

its infancy and the pagan mythology in its decrepitude passed away,

as from the vantage-ground of nineteen centuries the blindness and

the ignorance of both combatants are apparent? Or, may we not rather

discern that amid all the confusion of this dim [Greek: nyktomachia]

a great cause was at issue; that truths the most vital to human

wellbeing were involved on both sides; and that some positions were

then gained which are not now abandoned?

In estimating the strength and the weakness of the system expounded

by Lucretius, it is necessary to distinguish between the exposition

of the principles of the atomic philosophy, contained in the first

two books, and the explanation of natural phenomena contained in

the remaining books. The first, notwithstanding some arbitrary and

unverifiable assumptions, represents a real and important stage in

the progress of enquiry; the second, although containing many striking

observations and immediate inferences from the facts and processes of

Nature, is, from the point of view of modern science, to be regarded

mainly, as a curious page in the records of human error. Whatever

may be said of the Epicurean additions to the system, it seems to

be admitted that the original hypothesis of Democritus has been more

pregnant in results, and has more affinity with the most advanced

physical speculations of modern times, than the doctrines of all the

other philosophers of antiquity. But even amid the mass of unwarranted

assumptions and erroneous explanations contained in the later books,

the topics discussed--such as the relation of the mind to the body,

the mode by which sensible impressions are conveyed to the mind, the

processes by which our globe assumed its present form, the origin of

life, the evolution of humanity from its lowest to its higher stages

of development, the origin of spiritual beliefs, of the humaner

sentiments, of language, etc.--possess the interest of being kindred

to those on which speculative activity is most employed in the present

day. If the study of Lucretius forces upon our minds the arbitrary

assumptions, the inadequate method, and the false conclusions of

ancient science, it enables us to appreciate the disinterested

greatness of its aims, and the enlightened curiosity which sought to

solve the vastest problems.

It might be said, generally, that the argument of Lucretius was an

attempt to give a philosophical description of Nature before the

advent of physical science. But, as a means of throwing light on the

inadequacy of such speculations, it may be well to consider in detail

some of those points where the argument most obviously fails in

premises, method, and results.

The ancient as well as the modern enquirer into the truth of things

was confronted with the question of the origin of all our knowledge.

Is knowledge obtained originally through the exercise of the reason or

the senses, or through their combined and inseparable action? To

this question Lucretius distinctly answers, that the senses are the

foundation of all our knowledge.[18] They are our 'prima fides': the

basis not only of all sound inference, but of all human conduct. The

very conception of the meaning of true and false is derived from the

senses:--

Invenies primis ab sensibus esse creatam

Notitiam veri neque sensus posse refelli[19].

But besides the direct action of outward things on the senses, he

admits the power of certain images to make themselves immediately

present to the mind (iv. 722-822), and also a certain immediate

apprehension or intuition of the mind (iniectus animi) into

things beyond the cognisance of sense[20]. Thus there is no

actual inconsistency with his principles in claiming the power of

understanding the properties and configuration of the atoms, which are

represented as lying below the reach of our senses--

Omnis enim longe nostris ab sensibus infra

Primorum natura iacet.

But of the mode of operation of this 'intuition of the mind' there is

no criterion. The doctrine of the properties, shapes, motions, etc.

of the atoms is a creation of the imagination, suggested by certain

analogies from sensible things, but incapable of being verified by the

senses, which he regards as the only sure foundations of knowledge.

But even on the supposition that the existence and properties of the

atoms had been satisfactorily established, no adequate explanation

is offered of their relation to the facts of existence. The same

difficulty is encountered at the outset of this as of all other

ancient systems of ontology, viz. how to pass from the eternal and

immutable forms of the atoms to the variety and transitory nature of

sensible objects. This is the very difficulty which Lucretius himself

urges against the system of Heraclitus,--

Nam cur tam variae res possint esse requiro,

Ex uno si sunt igni puroque creatae.

The order of Nature now subsisting is declared to be the result of the

manifold combination of the atoms through infinite time and space, but

the intermediate stages by which this process was effected are assumed

rather than investigated. We seem to pass 'per saltum' from the chaos

of lifeless elements to the perfect order and manifold life of our

system. This wide chasm seems as little capable of being bridged

by the help of the atoms of Democritus, as by the watery element

of Thales or the fiery element of Heraclitus. But in Lucretius this

difficulty is partially concealed, by a poetical element in his

conception, really inconsistent with the mechanical materialism on

which his philosophy professes to be based.--It is to be observed

that while the Greek word [Greek: atoma] implies merely the notion

of individual existences, the words used by Lucretius, 'semina,'

'genitalia corpora,' really indicate a creative capacity in these

existences. In conceiving their power of carrying on and sustaining

the order of Nature, his imagination is thus aided by the analogy of

the growth of plants and living beings. A secret faculty in the atoms,

distinct from their other properties, is assumed. Thus he says--

At primordia gignundis in rebus oportet

Naturam clandestinam caecamque adhibere[21].

In his statement of the doctrine of the _Clinamen_, or slight

declension in the motion of the atoms, so as 'to break the chain of

fate,' he attributes to them a power analogous to volition in living

beings. This doctrine is suggested by the necessity of explaining

contingency in Nature and freedom in the movements of sentient beings.

We are, as in all attempts to account for creation, forced back on

the thought of an ultimate unexplained power in virtue of which things

have been created and are maintained in being.

The Lucretian hypothesis of the atoms, even if it were accepted as the

most reasonable explanation of the original constitution of matter,

is, by itself, altogether inadequate as a key to the secret of Nature.

It cannot be shown either how these atoms succeeded in arranging

themselves in order, or how from their negative properties all

positive life has been produced. The explanation of physical phenomena

given in the four last books, as to the nature of our bodies and

souls,--as to the action of outward things on the senses,--the origin

and existence of the sun and moon, the earth and the living beings

upon it, etc., although professedly deduced from the principles

established in the first two books, are really reached independently.

They are either immediate inferences from the obvious intimations of

sense, or they are the suggestions of analogy.

The weakness as well as the strength of ancient science lay in its

perception of analogies. The mind of Lucretius was both under the

influence of earlier analogical conceptions, and also shows great

boldness and originality in the logical and poetical apprehension

of 'those same footsteps of Nature, treading on diverse subjects or

matters.' But, in common with the earlier enquirers of Greece,

he trusts too implicitly to their guidance through all his daring

adventure. He seems to believe that the hidden properties of things

are as open to discovery through this 'lux sublustris' of the

imagination, as through the 'lucida tela' of the reason.

To take one prominent instance of this influence, it is remarkable

how, in his explanation of our mundane system, he is both consciously

and unconsciously guided by the analogy of the human body. Even

Lucretius, living in the very meridian of ancient science, cannot in

imagination absolutely emancipate himself from the associations of

mythology. He is indeed conscious of the inconsistency of attributing

life and sense to the earth: yet not only does he speak poetically of

Earth being the creative mother, Aether the fructifying father of

all things, but his whole conception of the creation of the world

is derived from a supposed likeness between the properties of our

terrestrial and celestial systems, and those of living beings. Thus we

read--

Undique quandoquidem per caulas aetheris omnis

Et quasi per magni circum spiracula mundi

Exitus introitusque elementis redditus extat[22].

Of the growth of plants and herbage it is said--

Ut pluma atque pili primum saetaeque creantur

Quadripedum membris et corpore pennipotentum,

Sic nova tum tellus herbas virgultaque primum

Sustulit, inde loci mortalia saecla creavit[23].

From v. 535 to 563 the power of the air in supporting the earth 'in

media mundi regione' is compared with the power which the delicate

vital principle has in supporting the human body. Again, the gathering

together of the waters of the sea is thus represented--

Tam magis expressus salsus de corpore sudor

Augebat mare manando camposque natantis[24].

And finally, though it would be easy to multiply such quotations, the

striking account, at the end of the second book, of the growth and the

decay of our world is drawn directly from the obvious appearances of

the growth and decay of the human body; e.g.--

Quoniam nec venae perpetiuntur

Quod satis est neque quantum opus est natura ministrat[25].

As a necessary result of a system of natural philosophy based on

assumptions, largely illustrated indeed, but not corroborated by

the observation of phenomena, with no verification of experiment or

ascertainment of special laws, there is throughout the poem the utmost

hardihood of assertion and inference on many points, on which modern

science clearly proves this system to have been as much in error as

it was possible to be. It is strange to note how inadequate an idea

Lucretius had of the vastness and complexity of the problem which

he professed to solve. He has no real conception of the progressive

advance of knowledge, and of the necessity of patiently building on

humble foundations. The striking lines--

Namque alid ex alio clarescet nec tibi caeca

Nox iter eripiet quin ultima naturai

Pervideas: ita res accendent lumina rebus[26],

look rather like an unconscious prophecy of the future progress of

science than an account of the process of enquiry exhibited in the

book.

A few out of many erroneous assertions about physical facts, in regard

to some of which the opinions of Lucretius are behind the science even

of his own time, may be noticed. Thus, at i. 1025, the existence of

the Antipodes is denied. Again, in Book iii. the mind is stated to be

a material substance, seated in the centre of the breast, composed of

very minute particles, the relative proportions of which determine the

characters both of men and animals. Lucretius shows a close and subtle

observation of facts that establish the interdependence of mind and

body, but no suspicion of that interdependence being connected with

the functions of the brain and nervous system. His whole account of

the _mundus_, of the earth at rest in the centre, and of the rolling

vault of heaven, with its sun and moon and stars--'trembling fires

in the vault'--all no larger than they appear to our eyes, is given

without any notion of the inadequacy of his data to bear out his

conclusions. The science which satisfied Epicurus was on

astronomical and meteorological questions behind that attained by

the mathematicians of Alexandria: and thus some of the conclusions

enunciated by Virgil in the Georgics are nearer the truth than those

accepted by Lucretius. While enlarging on the variety and subtlety in

the combinations of his imaginary atoms, he has no adequate idea of

the variety and subtlety in the real forces of Nature. His observation

of the outward and visible appearances of things is accurate and

vivid: there is often great ingenuity as well as a true apprehension

of logical conditions in his processes of reasoning both from ideas

and from phenomena: yet most of his conclusions as to the facts of

Nature, which are not immediately perceptible to the senses, are mere

fanciful explanations, indicating, indeed, a lively curiosity, but no

real understanding of the true conditions of the enquiry. The root

of his error lies in his not feeling how little can be known of the

processes and facts of Nature by ordinary observation, without

the resources of experiment and of scientific method built upon

experiment.

The weak points of this philosophy, the mistaken aim and incomplete

method of enquiry, the real ignorance of facts disguised under an

appearance of systematic treatment, the unproductiveness of the

results for any practical accession to man's power over Nature, are

quite obvious to any modern reader, who, without any special study of

physical science, cannot help being familiar with information which is

now universally diffused, but which was beyond the reach of the most

ardent enquirers and original thinkers of antiquity. But the amount

of information possessed by different ages, or by different men, is no

criterion of their relative intellectual power. The mental force of

a strong and adventurous thinker may be recognised struggling even

through these mists of error. The weakness of the system, interpreted

by Lucretius, is the necessary weakness of the childhood of knowledge.

But along with the weakness and the ignorance there are also the keen

feeling, the clear eye, and the buoyant fancies of early years,--the

germs and the promise of a strong maturity.

The full light in which ancient poetry, history, and mental philosophy

can still be read, makes us apt to forget that a great part even of

the intellectual life of antiquity has left scarcely any record of

itself. Of one aspect of this intellectual life Lucretius is the

most complete exponent. The genius of Plato and Aristotle has been

estimated, perhaps, as justly in modern as in ancient times. But the

great intellectual life of such men as Democritus, Empedocles,

or Anaxagoras, escapes our notice in the more familiar studies

of classical literature. The work of Lucretius reminds us of the

intensity of thought and feeling, the clearness and minuteness of

observation, with which the earliest enquiries into Nature were

carried on. In some respects the general ignorance of the times

enhances our sense of the greatness of individual philosophers. Each

new attempt to understand the world was an original act of creative

power. The intellectual strength and enthusiasm displayed by the

poet himself may be regarded as some measure of the strength of the

masters, who filled his mind with affection and astonishment.

The history of the physical science of the ancients cannot, indeed, be

regarded as so interesting or important as that of their metaphysical

philosophy. And this is so, not only on account of the comparative

scantiness of their real acquisitions in the one as compared with the

ideas and method which they have contributed to the other, and with

the masterpieces which they have added to its literature; but still

more on this account, that in physical knowledge new discovery

supplants the place of previous error or ignorance, and can be

understood without reference to what has been supplanted; whereas the

power and meaning of philosophical ideas is unintelligible, apart from

the knowledge of their origin and development. The history of physical

science in ancient times affords satisfaction to a natural curiosity,

but is not an indispensable branch of scientific study. The history of

ancient mental philosophy, on the other hand,--the source not only

of most of our metaphysical ideas and terms, but of many of the

most familiar thoughts and words in daily use,--is the basis of all

speculative study. Yet among the various kinds of interest which this

poem has for different classes of modern readers this is not to be

forgotten, that it enables a student of science to estimate the

actual discoveries, and, still more, the prognostications of discovery

attained by the irregular methods of early enquiry. The school of

philosophy to which Lucretius belonged was distinguished above other

schools for the attention which it gave to the facts of Nature.

Though he himself makes no claim to original discovery, he yet shows

a philosophical grasp of the whole system which he adopted, and

a rigorous study of its details. He does not, like Virgil, merely

reproduce some general results of ancient physics, to enhance the

poetical conception of Nature: as he is not satisfied with those

general results about human life and the origin of man, which amused

a meditative poet and practical epicurean like Horace. He was a real

student both of the plan of Nature and of man's relation to it. Out

of the stores of his abundant information the modern reader may best

learn not only the errors but also the happy guesses and pregnant

suggestions of ancient science.

To the general reader there is another aspect, in which it is

interesting to compare these germs of physical knowledge with some

tendencies of scientific enquiry in modern times. The questions,

vitally affecting the position of man in the world, which are

discussed or raised by Lucretius in the course of his argument, are

parallel to certain questions which have risen into prominence in

connexion with the increasing study of Nature. Most conspicuous

among these is the relation of physical enquiry to religious belief.

Expressions such as this,

Impia te rationis inire elementa viamque

Indugredi sceleris,

show that scientific enquiry had to encounter the same prejudice in

ancient as in modern times. The insufficiency and audacity of human

reason were reprobated by the antagonists of Lucretius as they

often are in the present day. Ancient religion denounced those who

investigated the origin of sun, earth, and sky, as

Immortalia mortali sermone notantes[27].

The views of Lucretius as to the natural origin of life, and the

progressive advance of man from the rudest condition by the exercise

of his senses and accumulated experience,--his denial of final causes

universally, and specially in the human faculties,--his resolution

of our knowledge into the intimations of sense,--his materialism

and consequent denial of immortality,--and his utilitarianism in

morals,--all present striking parallels to the opinions of one of

the great schools of modern thought. At v. 875 there is a passage

concerning the preservation and destruction of species, originally

suggested by Empedocles,--which shows that the idea of the struggle

for existence and of the survival of those species best fitted for the

conditions of that struggle was familiar to ancient thinkers. It is

there observed that those species alone have escaped destruction which

possess some natural weapon of defence, or which are useful to man.

Of others that could neither live by themselves nor were maintained by

human protection, it is said--

Scilicet haec aliis praedae lucroque iacebant

Indupedita suis fatalibus omnia vinclis,

Donec ad interitum genus id natura redegit[28].

The attempt to trace the origin of all supernatural belief to the

impressions made by dreams, the explanation given of the first

manifestation of the humaner sentiments, of the beginning of language,

and of the whole condition of 'primitive man,' are in conformity with

the teaching of the most popular exponent of the doctrine of evolution

in the present day.

But altogether apart from the truth and falsehood, the right and

wrong tendencies of his system of philosophy, our feeling of personal

interest in the poet is strengthened by noting the power of reasoning,

observation, and expression put forth by him through the whole course

of his argument. The pervading characteristic of Lucretius is

the 'vivida vis animi.' The freshness of feeling and vividness of

apprehension denoted by the words,

Mente vigenti

Avia Pieridum peragro loca,

are as remarkable in the processes of his intellect as of his

imagination.

The passionate intensity of his nature has left its impress on the

enunciation of his physical as well as of his moral doctrines. He has

a thoroughly logical grasp of his subject as a whole. He shows

the capacity of unfolding it and marshalling all his arguments in

symmetrical order, and of arranging in due subordination vast

masses of details. Vigour in acquiring and tenacity in retaining the

knowledge of facts are combined with a high organising faculty. He

has also, beyond any other Roman writer, a power of analysing and

comprehending abstract ideas, such as that of the infinite, of space

and time, of causation and the like, and of keeping the consequences

involved in these ideas present to his mind through long-sustained

processes of reasoning. He alone among his countrymen possessed,

if not the faculty of original speculation, the genuine philosophic

impulse, and the powers of mind demanded for abstruse and systematic

thinking.

This vigour of understanding is displayed in many processes of

deductive reasoning, in the power of seizing some general principle

underlying diverse phenomena, in the use of analogies by which he

illustrates the argument and advances from known to unknown causes and

from things within the cognisance of our senses to those beyond their

range, and in the clearness and variety of his observation.

His system cannot be called either purely inductive or purely

deductive, though it is more of the former than of the latter. He

argues with great force both from a large and varied mass of facts to

general laws and from general principles to facts involved in them.

The best examples of his power of following abstract ideas into their

consequences may be found in the first two books, where he establishes

the existence of vacuum, the infinity of space and of the atoms, the

limitations of the form of the atoms and the like. The reasoning at i.

298-328 where the existence of invisible bodies is established

affords a good instance of his power of recognising a common principle

involved in a great number and variety of phenomena.

The vigour with which he reasons from known to unknown facts and

causes may be judged most fairly by his arguments on the progress of

society, where he is more on an equality with modern speculation. He

discards, altogether, as might be expected, the fancies concerning

a heroic or a golden age, and assumes as his data the facts of human

nature as observed in his own day. The grounds from which he starts,

his method of reasoning, and the nature of his conclusions remind a

reader of the positive tendencies of Thucydides, as they are displayed

in the introduction to his history. The importance of personal

qualities, such as beauty, strength, and power of mind, in the

earliest stage of civil society, the influence of accumulated wealth

at a later period, the causes of the establishment and overthrow of

tyrannies and of the rise of commonwealths in their room, are all set

forth with a degree of strong sense and historical sagacity, such

as no other Roman writer has shown in similar investigations. The

inferiority even of Tacitus in his occasional digressions into the

philosophy of history is very marked. On such topics, where the data

were accessible to the natural faculties of observation and inference,

and where conclusions were sought which, without aiming at definite

certainty, should yet be true in the main, the reader of Lucretius has

no sense of that wasted ingenuity which he often feels in following

the investigations into some of the primary conditions of the atoms,

the component elements of the soul, the process by which the world was

formed, or the causes of electric or volcanic phenomena.

Lucretius makes a copious, and often a very happy use, of analogies,

both in the illustration of his philosophy, and in passages of the

highest poetical power. Some of the most striking of the former

kind have already been noticed as sources of error, or at least of

disguising ignorance, in his reasoning, viz. those founded on the

supposed parallel between the world and the human body; others again

are employed with force and ingenuity in support of various positions

in his argument. Among these may be mentioned his comparison of

the effect of various combinations of the same letters in forming

different words, with that of the various combinations of similar

atoms in forming different objects in nature. So too the ceaseless

motion of the atoms is brought visibly before the imagination by

the analogy of the motes dancing in the sunbeam. There is something

striking in the comparison of the human body immediately after death

to wine 'cum Bacchi flos evanuit,' and again, in that of the relation

of body and soul to the relation of frankincense and its odour--

E thuris glaebis evellere odorem

Haud facile est quin intereat natura quoque eius[29].

But this faculty of his understanding is in general so united with the

imaginative feeling through which he discerns the vital identity of

the most diverse manifestations of some common principle, that it can

best be illustrated in connexion with the poetical, as distinct from

the logical, merits of the work.

So also it is difficult to separate his faculty of clear, exact, and

vivid observation from his poetical perception of the life and beauty

of Nature. His powers of observation were, however, stimulated and

directed by scientific as well as poetic interest in phenomena. From

the wide scope of his philosophy he was led to examine the greatest

variety of facts, physical as well as moral. His sense of the

immensity of the universe led him to contemplate the largest and

widest operations of Nature,--such as the movements of the heavenly

bodies, the recurrence of the seasons, the forces of great storms,

volcanoes, etc.; while, again, the theory of the invisible atoms drew

his attention to the minutest processes of Nature, in so far as they

can be perceived or inferred without the appliances of modern science.

Thus, for instance, in a long passage beginning--

Denique fluctifrago suspensae in litore vestes[30]

he shows by an accumulation of instances that there are many invisible

bodies, the existence of which is inferred from visible effects. In

other places he draws attention to the class of facts which have

been the basis of the modern science of geology,--such as the mark

of rivers slowly wearing away their banks,--of walls on the sea-shore

mouldering from the long-continued effects of the exhalations from the

sea,--of the fall of great rocks from the mountains under the wear and

tear of ages.

Again, the argument is frequently illustrated by observation of the

habits of various animals. In these passages Lucretius shows the

curiosity of a naturalist, as well as the sympathetic feeling and

insight of a poet. How graphic, for instance, is his description of

dogs following up the scent of their game--

Errant saepe canes itaque et vestigia quaerunt[31].

How happily their characteristics are struck off in the line--

At levisomna canum fido cum pectore corda[32].

The various cries and habits of birds are often observed and

described, as--

Et validis cycni torrentibus ex Heliconis

Cum liquidam tollunt lugubri voce querellam[33];

and again--

Parvus ut est cycni melior canor ille gruum quam

Clamor in aetheriis dispersus nubibus austri[34].

The description of sea-birds,

Mergique marinis

Fluctibus in salso victum vitamque petentes[35],

recalls the vivid and natural life of those that haunted the isle of

Calypso--

[Greek:

tanyglossoi te koronai

einaliai tesin te thalassia erga memelen[36].]

His lively personal observation and active interest in the casual

objects presented to his eyes in the course of his walks are seen in

such passages as--

Cum lubrica serpens

Exuit in spinis vestem; nam saepe videmus

Illorum spoliis vepres volitantibus auctas[37].

There is also much truth and liveliness of observation in his notices

of psychological and physiological facts; as in those passages where

he establishes the connexion between mind and body, and in his account

of the senses. With what a graphic touch does he paint the outward

effects of death[38], the decay of the faculties with age, and the

madness that overtakes the mind--

Adde furorem animi proprium atque oblivia rerum,

Adde quod in nigras lethargi mergitur undas[39];

the bodily waste, produced by long-continuous speaking--

Perpetuus sermo nigrai noctis ad umbram

Aurorae perductus ab exoriente nitore[40];

the reflex action of the senses, produced by the nervous strain of

witnessing games and spectacles for many days in succession; the

insensibility to the pain of the severest wounds in the excitement

of battle! In his account of the plague of Athens, in which he enters

into much greater detail than Thucydides, he displays the minute

observation of a physician, as well as the profound thought of a

moralist.

The 'vivida vis' of his understanding is apparent also in the

clearness and consecutiveness of his philosophical style. His

complaint of 'the poverty of his native tongue' is directed against

the capacities of the Latin language for scientific, not for poetical

expression--

Nunc et Anaxagorae scrutemur Homoeomerian

Quam Grai memorant nec nostra dicere lingua

Concedit nobis patrii sermonis egestas[41].

That language, which gives admirable expression to the dictates of

common sense and to the dignified emotions which inspire the conduct

of great affairs, is ill adapted both for the expression of abstract

ideas and for maintaining a long process of connected argument.

Lucretius has occasionally to meet the first difficulty by the

adoption of Graecisms, and the second by some sacrifice of artistic

elegance. Thus he uses _omne_ for [Greek: to pan] (II. 1108), _esse_,

again, for [Greek: to einai], and the like. Something of a formal and

technical character appears in the links by which his argument is kept

together, as in the constantly recurring use of certain connecting

particles, such as the 'etenim,' 'quippe ubi,' 'quod genus,' 'amplius

hoc,' 'huc accedit,' and the like. Virgil has retained some of the

most striking of these connecting formulae, such as 'contemplator

item,' 'nonne vides,' etc.; but, as was natural in a poem setting

forth precepts and not proofs, he uses them much more sparingly and

with more careful selection. As used by Lucretius, they add to our

sense of the vividness of the book, of the constant personal address

of the author, and of his ardent polemical tone. They also keep the

framework of the argument more compact and distinct: but they bring

into greater prominence the artistic mistake of conducting an abstract

discussion in verse. The very merits of the work considered as an

argument,--its clearness, fullness, and consecutiveness,--detract from

the pleasure which a work of art naturally produces. But the style

cannot be too highly praised for its logical coherence and lucid

illustration. The meaning of Lucretius can never be mistaken from any

ambiguity in his language. There are difficulties arising from the

uncertainty of the text, difficulties also from our unfamiliarity with

his method and principles, or with the objects he describes, but

none from confusion in his ideas or his reasoning, or from a vague or

unreal use of words.

II.--THE SPECULATIVE IDEAS IN LUCRETIUS.

But it is in his grasp of speculative ideas, and in his application of

them to interpret the living world, that the greatness of Lucretius as

an imaginative thinker is most apparent. The substantial truth of

all the ancient philosophies lay in the ideas which they attempted

to express and embody, not in the symbols by which these ideas

were successively represented. Lucretius has a place among the few

adventurous thinkers of antiquity who attained to high eminences

of contemplation, which were hidden from the mass of their

contemporaries, and which, in the breadth of view afforded by them,

are not far below the higher levels of our modern conceptions of

Nature and human life. And there came to him, as to the earlier race

of thinkers, that which comes so rarely to modern enquiry, the fresh

and poetical sense of surprise and keen curiosity, as at the first

discovery of a new country, or the first unfolding of some illimitable

prospect.

(1) In the philosophy of Lucretius the world is conceived as

absolutely under the government of law. The starting-point of his

system--

Nullam rem e nilo gigni divinitus unquam,

is an inference from the recognition of this condition. There is no

need to prove its truth: it is openly revealed in all the processes of

Nature. This fact of universal order is indeed supposed to result

from the eternal and immutable properties of the atoms and from the

original limitation in their varieties: but the idea of law is prior

to, and the condition of, all the principles enunciated in the first

two books, in regard to the nature and properties of matter. In no

ancient writer do we find the certainty and universality of law more

emphatically and unmistakably expressed than in Lucretius. This is

the final appeal in all controversy. The superiority of Epicurus

is proclaimed on the ground of his having discovered the fixed and

certain limitations of all existence--

Unde refert nobis victor quid possit oriri,

Quid nequeat, finita potestas denique cuique

Quanam sit ratione atque alte terminus haerens[42].

Following on his steps the poet himself professes to teach--

Quo quaeque creata

Foedere sint, in eo quam sit durare necessum,

Nec validas valeant aevi rescindere leges[43].

In another place he says--

Et quid quaeque queant per foedera naturai

Quid porro nequeant, sancitum quandoquidem extat[44].

All knowledge and speculative confidence are declared to rest on this

truth--

Certum ac dispositumst ubi quicquit crescat et insit[45].

Superstition, the great enemy of truth, is said to be the result of

ignorance of 'what may be and what may not be.' This is the thought

which underlies and gives cogency to the whole argument. The subject

of the poem is 'maiestas cognita rerum,'--the revelation of the

majesty and order of the universe. The doctrine proclaimed by

Lucretius was, that creation was no result of a capricious or

benevolent exercise of power, but of certain processes extending

through infinite time, by means of which the atoms have at length been

able to combine and work together in accordance with their ultimate

conditions. The conception of these ultimate conditions and of their

relations to one another involves some more vital agency than that

of blind chance or an iron fatalism[46]. The 'foedera naturai'

are opposed to the 'foedera fati.' The idea of law in Nature, as

understood by Lucretius, is not, necessarily, inconsistent with

that of a creative will determining the original conditions of the

elemental substances. Though the ultimate principles of Lucretius are

incompatible with a belief in the popular religions of antiquity,

his mode of conceiving the operation of law in the universe is not

irreconcileable with the conceptions of modern Theism.

The idea of law not only supports the whole fabric of his physical

philosophy, but moulds his convictions on human life and imparts to

his poetry that contemplative elevation by which it is pervaded. It

is from this ground that he makes his most powerful assault on the

strongholds of superstition. Nature is thus declared to be free from

the arbitrary and capricious agency of the gods:--

Libera continuo dominis privata superbis[47].

Man also is under the same law, and is made free by his knowledge and

acceptance of this condition. A sense of security is thus gained for

human life; a sense of elevation above its weakness and passions, and

the courage to bear its inevitable evils[48]. This absolute reliance

on law does not act upon his mind with the depressing influence of

fatalism. Although the fortunes of life and the phases of individual

character are said to be the results of the infinite combinations

of blind atoms, yet man is made free by knowledge and the use of

his reason. Notwithstanding the original constitution of his nature,

arising out of influences over which there is no control, he still has

it in his power to live a life worthy of the gods:--

Illud in his rebus videor firmare potesse,

Usque adeo naturarum vestigia linqui

Parvola, quae nequeat ratio depellere nobis

Ut nil inpediat dignam dis degere vitam[49].

From these high places of his philosophy,--'the "templa serena"

well-bulwarked by the learning of the wise'[50] he derives not only a

sense of certainty in thought and security in life, but also his wide

contemplative view, and his profound feeling of the majesty of the

universe. The idea of universal law enables him to apprehend in

all the processes of Nature a presence which awakens reverence and

enforces obedience. This idea imparts unity of tone to the whole poem,

informs its language, and seems to mould the very rhythm of its verse.

(2) But a closer view brings another aspect of the world into light;

viz. the interdependence of all things on one another. There is not

only fixed order, but there is also infinite mobility in Nature. The

sum of all things remains unchanged, though all individual existences

decay and perish. So too the sum of force remains the same[51]. There

is no rest anywhere; all things are continually changing and passing

into one another; decay and renovation form the very life and being

of all things. Nothing is ever lost. 'Nature repairs one thing from

another, and allows of no birth except through the death of something

else':--

Haud igitur penitus pereunt quaecumque videntur,

Quando alid ex alio reficit natura nec ullam

Rem gigni patitur nisi morte adiuta aliena[52]?

As the 'ever-during peace' at the heart of all things is supposed to

result from the eternal and immutable properties of the atoms, this

'endless agitation' arises out of their unceasing motion through

infinite space. There are two kinds of motion,--the one tending to the

renewal,--the other, to the destruction of things as they now exist.

The maintenance of our whole system depends on the equilibrium of

these opposing forces--

Sic aequo geritur certamine principiorum

Ex infinito contractum tempore bellum[53].

There is thus seen to be not only absolute order, but also infinite

change in the processes of Nature. Decay and renovation, death

and life, support the existing creation in unceasing harmony. The

imagination represents this process under the impressive symbol of

an endless battle, in which now one side now the other gains some

position, but neither, as yet, can become master of the field--

Nunc hinc nunc illic superant vitalia rerum,

Et superantur item[54].

This symbol is the poetical form of the old philosophical distinction

of [Greek: auxesis] and [Greek: phthora]. It is another form of

the [Greek: eris] and [Greek: philia] which to the imagination of

Empedocles appeared to pervade the universe. The idea of a constant

battle imparts to the infinite and all-pervading movement of Nature

the interest and the life of human passion on the grandest and widest

sphere of action. The greatness of the thought makes each particular

object in Nature pregnant with a deeper meaning, associates trivial

and ordinary phenomena with a sense of imaginative wonder, and throws

an august solemnity around the familiar aspects of human life. The

passage in which this principle is most powerfully announced at ii.

575, etc., swells into deeper and grander tones, as the real human

pathos involved in this strife of elements is made manifest. This

struggle of life and decay is no mere war of abstractions: it is

the daily and hourly process of existence. Birth and death are the

fulfilment of this law. 'The old order changeth, yielding place to

new'--

Cedit enim rerum novitate extrusa vetustas[55].

'New nations wax strong, while the old are waning away; the

generations of living things are changed within a brief space, and,

like the runners in a race, pass on the torch of life'--

Augescunt aliae gentes, aliae minuuntur,

Inque brevi spatio mutantur saecla animantum

Et quasi cursores vitai lampada tradunt[56].

Man also must resign himself to the universal law, and accept his life

not as a thing to be possessed for ever, but only to be used for a

time--

Sic alid ex alio numquam desistet oriri

Vitaque mancipio nulli datur, omnibus usu[57].

Under this law of universal decay and restoration, we see the rains of

heaven lost in the earth, but passing into new life in the fruits from

which all living things are supported--

Hinc alitur porro nostrum genus atque ferarum,

Hinc laetas urbes pueris florere videmus,

Frondiferasque novis avibus canere undique silvas[58].

Or we see the waters of a river lost in the sea and returning through

the earth to their original source, and again flowing in a fresh

stream along the channel first formed for them--

Inde super terras fluit agmine dulci

Qua via secta semel liquido pede detulit undas[59].

Under the same law the earth is seen to be the parent of all things

and their tomb (v. 259); the sea, which loses its substance through

evaporation and the subsidence of its waters, is found to be ever

renewed by its native sources and the abundant tribute of rivers (v.

267; i. 231; vi. 608); the air is ever giving away and receiving back

its substance; the sun ('liquidi fons luminis'), moon, and stars,

are ever losing and ever renewing their light. The day on which the

'long-sustained mass and fabric of the world' will pass away, leaving

only void space and the viewless atoms, is destined to come suddenly

through the termination of this long balanced warfare:--

Denique tantopere inter se cum maxima mundi

Pugnent membra, pio nequaquam concita bello,

Nonne vides aliquam longi certaminis ollis

Posse dari finem? vel cum sol et vapor omnis

Omnibus epotis umoribus exsuperarint;

Quod facere intendunt, neque adhuc conata patrantur[60].

(3) It is to be observed, also, how vividly Lucretius realises and

how steadfastly he keeps before his mind the ideas of the eternity

and infinity of the primordial atoms and of space. These conceptions

support him in his antagonism to the popular religion, and deepen the

feeling with which he contemplates human life and Nature. Our world

of earth, sea, and sky is only one among infinite other systems. It

stands to the universe in much the same proportion as any single man

to the whole earth--

Et videas caelum summai totius unum

Quam sit parvula pars et quam multesima constet

Nec tota pars, homo terrai quota totius unus[61].

It was the glory of Epicurus that he first passed beyond the empyrean

that bounds our world--

Atque omne immensum peragravit mente animoque[62].

The immensity of the universe is incompatible with the constant agency

and interference of the gods,--

Quis regere immensi summam, quis habere profundi

Indu manu validas potis est moderanter habenas[63].

This negative idea is, at least, a step in advance towards a higher

conception of the attributes of Deity. The infinity and complexity of

the universe protest against the limited and divided powers, as the

natural feelings of human nature protest against the moral qualities

attributed to the gods of the Pagan mythology.

The power of these conceptions is also seen in the poet's deep sense

of the littleness of human life. Such pathetic expressions of the

shortness and triviality of each man's mortal span, as that,--

Degitur hoc aevi quodcumquest[64],

are called forth by the ever-present thought of the Infinite and the

Eternal. But this thought, if associated with a feeling of the pathos

of human life does not lead Lucretius into cynicism or despair.

It rather elevates him and fortifies him to suppress all personal

complaint in the presence of ideas so stupendous. His imagination

expands in contemplating the objects either of thought or of sight,

which produce the impression of immensity,--such as the vast expanse

of earth, sea and sky,--or of great duration,--such as the 'aeterni

sidera mundi' or the 'validas aevi vires.' Thus, as much of the

majesty of his poetry may be connected with his contemplative sense

of law, much of its pervading life with his sense of the mobility of

Nature, so the sublimity of many passages may be resolved into the

influence of the ideas of immensity, both of time and space, on his

imagination.

(4) Another aspect of things vividly realised by Lucretius is that of

their individuality. It was in the atomic philosophy, that the thought

of 'the individual' first rose into prominence. The meaning of

the word 'atom' is simply 'individual.' The sense of each separate

existence is not merged in the conception of law, of change, or of the

immensity of the universe. The atoms are not only infinite in

number, they are also varied in kind and powerful in solid

singleness,--'solida pollentia simplicitate.' From their variety and

individuality the variety and individuality in Nature emerge. No two

classes and no two single objects are exactly alike. Between any

two of the birds that gladden the sea-shore, the river banks, or the

woods, there is some difference in outward appearance--

Invenies tamen inter se differre figuris[65].

Each individual of a flock is different from every other, and by this

difference only can the mother recognise her offspring. This sense of

individuality intensifies the pathos of many passages in the poem.

By regarding each being as having an existence of its own, the poet

enters with sympathy into the feelings of all sentient existence,--of

dumb animals as well as of human creatures. The freshness and

distinctness of all his pictures from Nature are the result of an eye

trained by his philosophy to see each thing not only as part of the

universal life, but as existing in and for itself.

(5) The thought, also, of the infinite subtlety of combination in the

elements and forces of the world acts powerfully on his imagination.

The individuality of things depends on the fact that no two are

composed of exactly the same elements, combined in the same way. The

infinity of the elements, the immensity of the spaces in which they

meet, and the infinite possibilities in their modes of combination

result in the endless variety of beauty and wonder which the world

presents to the eye. The epithet 'daedala,' by which this subtlety

is expressed is applied not only to Nature, but to the earth as the

sphere in which the elements are most largely mixed, and the

creative forces most powerfully active. The varied loveliness of

the world,--the 'varii lepores,' by which the eye is gratified and

relieved,--are the result of the variety in the elements and the

infinite subtlety in their modes of combination. Their invisibility

and inscrutable action enhance the imaginative sense of the power and

beauty resulting from these causes.

(6) The abstract properties of the atoms, discussed in the first two

books, so far from being arbitrary assumptions, without any relation

to actual existence, are thus found to be the conditions which explain

the order, life, immensity, individuality, and subtlety manifested in

the universe. These conceptions, which bridge the chasm between the

particles of lifeless matter and the living world, unite in the

more general conception of Nature. What then is involved in this

conception--the dominant conception of the poem in its philosophical

as well as its imaginative aspects? Something more than the subsidiary

conceptions mentioned above. There is, in the first place, all that

is involved in the unity of an organic whole. But to this whole the

imagination of the poet seems, in some passages, to attach attributes

scarcely reconcileable with the mechanical principles of his

philosophy. In emancipating himself from the religious traditions of

antiquity, Lucretius did not altogether escape from the power of an

idea, so deeply rooted in the thought of past ages, as to seem to

be an integral element of human consciousness. It is against the

limitations which the ancient mythology imposed on the idea of Divine

agency, rather than against the idea itself, as it is understood in

modern times, that his philosophy protests. To Nature his imagination

attributes not only life, but creative and regulative power. There

would be more truth in calling this conception pantheistic than

atheistic. But the sense of will, freedom, individual life, is so

strong in Lucretius, that we think of the 'natura daedala rerum'

rather as a personal power, with attributes in some respects analogous

to those of man, than as a being in whose existence all other life is

merged. Though this figurative attribution of personal qualities to

great natural forces cannot be pressed as evidence of philosophical

belief, yet as it shows, on the one hand, an unconscious survival of

the state of mind which gave birth to mythology, so it seems to be

the unconscious awakening of a spiritual conception of a creative and

sustaining power in the universe.

This new and more vital conception which supersedes the old

mythological modes of thought is not altogether independent of them.

Lucretius still interprets the world by analogies and illustrations

which attach personal attributes to different phases and forces of

Nature. Thus he speaks of Aether as the fructifying father, of Earth

as the great mother of all living things. But the survival of the

mythological conception of the universe, blended indeed with other

modes of imaginative thought, appears most conspicuously in the famous

invocation to the poem,--

Aeneadum genetrix, hominum divomque voluptas,

Alma Venus.

The mysterious power there addressed is identified with the Alma

Venus of Italian worship,--the abstract conception of the life-giving

impulse, the operations of which are most visible in the new birth

of the early spring,--and with the Aphrodite of Greek art and

poetry,--the concrete and passionate conception of the beauty and

charm which most fascinate the senses. But if nothing more was meant

in the opening lines of the poem than a fanciful appeal to one of the

Deities of the popular belief, it might with justice be said that some

of the finest poetry in Lucretius directly contradicted his sincerest

convictions. But the language in which she is addressed clearly

proves that the 'Alma Venus' of the invocation is not an independent

capricious power, separate from the orderly action of Nature. She is

emphatically addressed as a Power, present through all the world,--

Caeli subter labentia signa

Quae mare navigerum quae terras frugiferentis

Concelebras.

She is not only omnipresent, but all-creative,--

Per te quoniam genus omne animantum

Concipitur,--

and all-regulative--

Quae quoniam rerum naturam sola gubernas, etc.

Thus under the name, and with some of the attributes of the Goddess of

Mythology, the genial force of Nature,--'Natura Naturans' as distinct

from the 'rerum summa,' or 'Natura Naturata,'--is apprehended as a

living, all-pervading energy, the cause of all life, joy, beauty, and

order in the world, the cause too of all grace and accomplishment in

man. To this mysterious Power, from which all joy and loveliness are

silently emanating, the poet, (remembering at the same time that the

friend to whom he dedicates his poem claims especially to be under

the protection of that Goddess with whom she is identified), prays for

inspiration,--

Quo magis aeternum da dictis, diva, leporem[66].

Here, as in earlier invocations of the Muse, there is a recognition

of the truth that the feeling, the imagery, and the words of the poet

come to him in a way which he does not understand,--

[Greek: hemeis de kleos oion akouomen, oude ti idmen,]--

and by the gift of a Power which he cannot command. Like Goethe,

Lucretius seems to feel that his thoughts and feelings pass into form

and musical expression under the influence of the same vital movement

which in early spring fills the world with new life and beauty.

But still true to his philosophy, and remembering the Empedoclean

thought[67], which recurs with impressive solemnity in his argument,

that this life-giving energy is inseparably united with a destructive

energy, and seeing at the same time before his imagination the figures

and colouring of some great masterpiece of Greek art, he embodies his

conception in a passionately wrought picture of the loves of Aphrodite

and Ares, and concludes with a prayer that the gracious Power whom

he invokes would prevail on the fierce God of War to grant a time of

peace to his country.

If to regard this passage as merely an artistic ornament of the poem

would be unjust to the sincerity of Lucretius as a thinker, to regard

it merely as a piece of elaborate symbolism would be still more

unjust to his genius as a poet. It is a truth both of thought and of

imaginative feeling that there is a pervading and puissant energy in

the world, manifesting itself most powerfully in animate and inanimate

creation, when the deadness of winter gives place to the genial warmth

of spring,--

Tibi rident aequora ponti

Placatumque nitet diffuso lumine caelum;--

manifesting itself also in the human spirit in the form of genius,

calling into life new feelings and fancies of the poet, and shaping

them into forms of imperishable beauty. Whether consistently or

inconsistently with the ultimate tenets of his philosophy, the poet,

in this invocation, seems to recognise, behind these manifestations of

unconscious energy, the presence of a conscious Being with which his

own spirit can hold communion, and from which it draws inspiration.

With similar inconsistency or consistency a modern physicist speaks

of 'the impression of joy given in the unfolding of leaf and the

spreading of plant as irresistibly suggesting the thought of a great

Being conscious of this joy.'

But this puissant and joy-giving energy, personified in the 'Alma

Venus genetrix,' is only one of the aspects which the 'Natura daedala

rerum' of Lucretius presents to man. She seems to stand to him

rather in the position of a task-mistress than of a beneficent

Being, ministering to his wants. The Gods receive all things from her

bounty,--

Omnia suppeditat porro Natura,[68]--

and the lower animals who 'wage no foolish strife with her' have their

wants also abundantly satisfied:--

Quando omnibus omnia large

Tellus ipsa parit Naturaque daedala rerum[69].

But to man she is the cause of evil as well as of good; of shipwrecks,

earthquakes, pestilence, and untimely death, as well as of all beauty

and delight. Sometimes he seems to hear her speaking to him in the

tones of stern reproof,--

Denique si vocem rerum Natura repente, etc.[70]

Again he sees her rising up before him like the old Nemesis of Greek

religion, and trampling with secret irony on the pride and pomp of

human affairs,--

Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita quaedam

Opterit et pulchros fascis saevasque secures

Proculcare ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur[71].

It is this large conception of Nature which seems to bring the

abstract doctrines of Lucretius into harmony with his poetical

feelings and his human sensibilities. The poetry of the living

world is thus breathed into the dry bones of the Atomic system of

Democritus. The unity which the mind strains to grasp in contemplating

the universe is thus made compatible with the perception of individual

life in everything. The pathos and dignity of human life are enhanced

by the recognition of our dependence on this great Power above and

around us. The contemplation of this Power affects the imagination

with a sense of awe, wonder, and majesty. But with this contemplative

emotion a still deeper feeling seems to mingle. Throughout the poem

there is heard a deep undertone of solemnity as from one awakening

to the apprehension of a great invisible Power,--'a concealed

omnipotence,'--in the world. As the imagination of Lucretius is

immeasurably more poetical, so is his spirit immeasurably more

reverential than that of Epicurus. If by the analysis of his

understanding he seems to take all mystery and sanctity out of the

universe, he restores them again by the synthesis of his imagination.

If his work seems in some places to 'teach a truth he could not

learn,' this is to be explained partly by the fact that he sometimes

leaves the beaten road of Epicureanism for the higher and less defined

tracts,--'avia loca,'--along which the mystic enthusiasm of Empedocles

had borne him. But partly it may be explained by the fact that the

poetic imagination, which was in him the predominant faculty, asserts

its right to be heard after the logical understanding has said its

last word. The imagination which recognises infinite life and order

in the world unconsciously assumes the existence of a creative and

governing Power, behind the visible framework of things. Even the germ

of such a thought was more elevating than the popular idolatry

and superstition. The recognition of the majesty of Nature enables

Lucretius to contemplate life with a sense both of solemnity and

security, while it imparts a more elevated feeling to his enjoyment

of the beauty of the world. The belief which he taught and by which he

lived is neither atheistic nor pantheistic; it is not definite enough

to be theistic. It was like the twilight between the beliefs that were

passing away, and that which rose on the world after his time,--

[Greek: emos d' out' ar po eos, eti d' amphilyke nyx].

[Footnote 1: 'First, by reason of the greatness of my

argument, and because I set the mind free from the close-drawn

bonds of superstition; and next because, on so dark a theme, I

compose such lucid verse, touching every point with the grace

of poesy.'--i. 931-34.]

[Footnote 2: Of Leucippus, with whose name the theory is also

associated, very little is known.]

[Footnote 3: 'This terror of the soul, therefore, and this

darkness must be dispelled, not by the rays of the sun or the

bright shafts of day, but by the outward aspect and harmonious

plan of nature.'--i. 146-48.]

[Footnote 4: i. 445-56.]

[Footnote 5: 'The original atoms are, therefore, of solid

singleness, composed of the smallest particles in close and

compact union, not kept together by any meeting of these

particles, but rather powerful by their eternal singleness,

from which nature allows no loss by violence or decay, storing

them as the seeds of all things.'--i. 609-14.]

[Footnote 6: ii. 297-302.]

[Footnote 7: ii. 549.]

[Footnote 8: ii. 575-76.]

[Footnote 9: 'If we are to suppose the existence of an eternal

substance, at the basis of all things, on which the safety of

the whole universe rests, lest you find creation resolved into

nonentity.'--ii. 862-64.]

[Footnote 10: 'So soon as the deep rest of death hath fallen

upon a man, and the mind and the life have departed from him,

there is no loss in his whole frame to be perceived, either in

appearance or in weight. Death still presents everything that

was before, except the vital sense and the warm heat.'--iii.

211-15.]

[Footnote 11: 'For, not only would all reason come to nought,

even life itself would immediately be overthrown, unless you

dare to trust the senses.'--iv. 507-8.]

[Footnote 12: i. 135.]

[Footnote 13: 'Since nothing in our body has been produced

in order that we might be able to put it to use, but what has

been produced creates its own use.'--iv. 834-35.]

[Footnote 14: 'And love impaired their strength, and children,

by their coaxing ways, easily broke down the proud temper of

their fathers.'--v. 1017-18.]

[Footnote 15: vi. 60-1.]

[Footnote 16: E.g. i. 54; v. 154.]

[Footnote 17: Macaulay.]

[Footnote 18: E.g. i. 694.]

[Footnote 19: iv. 478-79.]

[Footnote 20:

In quae corpora si nullus tibi forte videtur

Posse animi iniectus fieri, procul avius erras.--ii. 739-40.]

[Footnote 21: 'But it is necessary that the atoms, in the

act of creation, should exercise some secret, invisible

faculty.'--i. 778-79.]

[Footnote 22: 'Since on all sides, through all the pores

of aether, and, as it were, all round through the

breathing-places of the mighty world, a free exit and entrance

is given to the atoms.'--vi. 492-94.]

[Footnote 23: 'As feathers, and hair, and bristles are first

formed on the limbs of beasts and the bodies of birds, so the

young earth then first bore herbs and plants, afterwards gave

birth to the generations of living things.'--v. 788-91.]

[Footnote 24: 'So more and more, the sweat oozing from the

salt body, increased the sea and the moving watery plains by

its flow.'--v. 487-88.]

[Footnote 25: 'Since neither its veins can support adequate

nourishment, nor does Nature supply what is needful.'--ii.

1141-42.]

[Footnote 26: 'For one thing will grow clear after another:

nor shall the darkness of night make thee lose thy way, before

thou seest, to the full, the furthest secrets of Nature: so

shall all things throw light one on the other.'--i. 1115-17.]

[Footnote 27: 'Dishonouring immortal things by mortal

words.'--v. 121.]

[Footnote 28: 'They, doubtless, became the prey and the gain

of others, unable to break through the bonds of fate by

which they were confined, until Nature caused that species to

disappear.'--v. 875-77.

Professor Wallace (Epicureanism, p. 114) in commenting on this

passage adds, 'Of course in this there is no implication of

the peculiarly Darwinian doctrine of descent, or development

of kind from kind, with structure modified and complicated to

meet changing circumstances.']

[Footnote 29: iii. 327-28.]

[Footnote 30: i. 305.]

[Footnote 31: iv. 705.]

[Footnote 32: 'Dogs, lightly sleeping, with faithful

heart.'--v. 864.]

[Footnote 33: 'When from the strong torrents of Helicon the

swans raise their liquid wailing with doleful voice.'--iv.

547-48.]

[Footnote 34: 'As the low note of the swan is sweeter than the

cry of the cranes, far-scattered among the south-wind's skiey

clouds.'--iv. 181-82.]

[Footnote 35: 'And gulls among the sea-waves, seeking their

food and pastime in the brine.'--v. 1079-80.]

[Footnote 36: Od. v. 66.]

[Footnote 37: 'And likewise, when the lithe serpent casts its

skin among the thorns; for often we notice the briers, with

their light airy spoils hanging to them.'--iv. 60-2.]

[Footnote 38: iii. 213-15.]

[Footnote 39: 'Consider, too, the special madness of the mind,

and forgetfulness of things; consider its sinking into the

black waves of lethargy.'--iii. 828-29.]

[Footnote 40: 'Unbroken speech prolonged from the first light

of dawn till the shadows of the dark night.'--iv. 537-38.]

[Footnote 41: 'Now, too, let us examine the "Homoeomeria" of

Anaxagoras, as the Greeks call it, though the poverty of

our native speech does not admit of its being named in our

language.'--i. 830-33.]

[Footnote 42: 'Whence returning victorious he brings back to

us tidings of what may and what may not come into existence:

on what principle, in fine, the power of each thing is

determined and the deeply-fixed limit of its being.'--i.

75-77.]

[Footnote 43: 'According to what condition all things have

been created, what necessity there is that they abide by it,

and how they may not annul the mighty laws of the ages.'--v.

56-58.]

[Footnote 44: 'Since it is absolutely decreed, what each thing

can and what it cannot do by the conditions of nature.'--i.

586.]

[Footnote 45: 'It is fixed and ordered where each thing may

grow and exist.'--iii. 787.]

[Footnote 46: ii. 254.]

[Footnote 47: ii. 1091.]

[Footnote 48: vi. 32.]

[Footnote 49: 'This, in these circumstances, I think I can

establish, that such faint traces of our native elements are

left beyond the powers of our reason to dispel, that nothing

prevents us from leading a life worthy of the gods.'--iii.

319-22.]

[Footnote 50: ii. 8.]

[Footnote 51: ii. 297-99.]

[Footnote 52: i. 262-64.]

[Footnote 53: ii. 573-74.]

[Footnote 54: ii. 575-76.]

[Footnote 55: iii. 964.]

[Footnote 56: ii. 77-79.]

[Footnote 57: 'So one thing shall never cease being born from

another, and life is given to no man as a possession, to all

for use.'--iii. 970-71.]

[Footnote 58: 'Hence, moreover, the race of man and the beasts

of the forest are fed; hence we see cities glad with the

flower of their children, and the leafy woods on all sides

loud with the song of young birds.'--i. 254-56.]

[Footnote 59: v. 271-72.]

[Footnote 60: 'Finally, since the vast members of the world,

engaged in no holy warfare, so mightily contend with one

another, see'st thou not that some end may be assigned to

their long conflict, either when the sun and every mode of

heat, having drunk up all the moisture, shall have gained

the day, which they are ever tending to do but do not yet

accomplish?' etc.--v. 380-85.]

[Footnote 61: 'And that you may see how very small a part one

firmament is of the whole sum of things, how small a fraction

it is, not even so much in proportion as a single man is to

the whole earth.'--vi. 650-52.]

[Footnote 62: 'And traversed the whole boundless region of

space, in mind and spirit.'--i. 74.]

[Footnote 63: 'Who can order the infinite mass? who can hold

with a guiding hand the mighty reins of immensity?'--ii.

1095-96.]

[Footnote 64: ii. 16.]

[Footnote 65: ii. 348.]

[Footnote 66: i. 28.]

[Footnote 67: Lucretius, in other places where he introduces

pictures or stories from the ancient mythology, as at ii.

600, etc., iii. 978, etc., iv. 584, etc., treats them as

symbolising some facts of Nature or human life. Occasionally,

as at v. 14, etc., he deals with them in the spirit of

Euhemerism. He never uses them, as Virgil, Horace, and Ovid

do, merely as materials for artistic representation.]

[Footnote 68: iii. 23.]

[Footnote 69: v. 233-4.]

[Footnote 70: ii. 931, etc.]

[Footnote 71: v. 1233-5.]