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 περὶ φύσεως,--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.[376]
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[377], 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.[378]
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'--ἄτομα καὶ κενόν. 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 no thing
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.[379]
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 jam
Concedit natura reservans semina rebus.[380]
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.
A new departure is made 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[381]. 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?[382]
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.[383]
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.[384]
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.[385]
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.[386]
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,[387]--
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.[388]
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
satirical 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.[389]
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.[390]
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[391] 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[392] 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 νυκτομαχία 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 from 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[393]. 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.[394]
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[395]. 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
ἄτομα 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.[396]
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.[397]
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.[398]
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.[399]
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.[400]
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,[401]
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. 1052, 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.[402]
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.[403]
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.[404]
But this faculty of his understanding is in general so united with the
imaginative feeling through which he discerns the vital indentity 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,[405]
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.[406]
How happily their characteristics are struck off in the line--
At levisomna canum fido cum pectore corda.[407]
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;[408]
and again--
Parvus ut est cycni melior canor ille gruum quam
Clamor in aetheriis dispersus nubibus austri.[409]
The description of sea-birds,
Mergique marinis
Fluctibus in salso victum vitamque petentes,[410]
recalls the vivid and natural life of those that haunted the isle of
Calypso--
τανύγλωσσοί τε κορῶναι
εἰνάλιαι τῇσίν τε θαλάσσια ἔργα μέμηλεν.[411]
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.[412]
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[413], 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;[414]
the bodily waste, produced by long-continuous speaking--
Perpetuus sermo nigrai noctis ad umbram
Aurorae perductus ab exoriente nitore;[415]
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.[416]
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 τὸ πᾶν (11. 1108), _esse_, again,
for τὸ εἶναι, 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.[417]
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.[418]
In another place he says--
Et quid quaeque queant per foedera naturai
Quid porro nequeant, sancitum quandoquidem extat.[419]
All knowledge and speculative confidence are declared to rest on this
truth--
Certum ac dispositumst ubi quicquit crescat et insit.[420]
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.[421] The 'foedera naturai' are opposed to the 'foedera fati.'
The idea of law in Nature, as understood by Lucretius, is not merely
that of invariable sequence or concomitance of phenomena. It implies
at least the further idea of a 'secreta facultas' in the original
elements. This idea is not, necessarily, inconsistent with that of a
creative will determining the original conditions of the elemental
substances. If the ultimate principles of Lucretius were 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.[422]
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[423]. 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.[424]
From these high places of his philosophy,--'the "templa serena"
well-bulwarked by the learning of the wise'[425] 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[426]. 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?[427]
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.[428]
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.[429]
This symbol is the poetical form of the old philosophical distinction
of αὔξησις and φθορά. It is another form of the ἔρις and φιλία 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, &c., 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.[430]
'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.[431]
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.[432]
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.[433]
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.[434]
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.[435]
(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.[436]
It was the glory of Epicurus that he first passed beyond the empyrean
that bounds our world--
Atque omne immensum peragravit mente animoque.[437]
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.[438]
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,[439]
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.[440]
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 renum naturam sola gubernas, &c.
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.[441]
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,--
ἡμεῖς δὲ κλέος οἶον ἀκούομεν, οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν,--
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[442], 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,[443]--
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.[444]
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.[445]
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.[446]
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 tracks,--'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,--
ἦμος δ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἄρ πω ἠώς, ἔτι δ᾽ ἀμφιλύκη νύξ.
[Footnote 376: '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 377: Of Leucippus, with whose name the theory is also
associated, very little is known.]
[Footnote 378: '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 379: i. 445-56.]
[Footnote 380: '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 381: ii. 297-302.]
[Footnote 382: ii. 549.]
[Footnote 383: ii. 575-76]
[Footnote 384: '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 385: '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 386: '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 387: i. 135.]
[Footnote 388: '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 389: 'And love impaired their strength, and children, by
their coaxing ways, easily broke down the proud temper of their
fathers.'--v. 1017-18.]
[Footnote 390: vi. 60-1.]
[Footnote 391: E.g. i. 54; v. 154.]
[Footnote 392: Macaulay.]
[Footnote 393: E.g. i. 694.]
[Footnote 394: iv. 478-79.]
[Footnote 395:
'In quae corpora si nullus tibi forte videtur
Posse animi iniectus fieri, procul avius erras.'--ii. 739-40.
]
[Footnote 396: 'But it is necessary that the atoms, in the act of
creation, should exercise some secret, invisible faculty.'--i. 778-79.]
[Footnote 397: '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 398: '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 399: '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 400: 'Since neither its veins can support adequate
nourishment, nor does Nature supply what is needful.'--ii. 1141-42.]
[Footnote 401: '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 402: 'Dishonouring immortal things by mortal words.'--v. 121.]
[Footnote 403: '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.
Mr. 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 404: iii. 327-28.]
[Footnote 405: i. 305.]
[Footnote 406: iv. 705.]
[Footnote 407: 'Dogs, lightly sleeping, with faithful heart.'--v. 864.]
[Footnote 408: 'When from the strong torrents of Helicon the swans
raise their liquid wailing with doleful voice.'--iv. 547-48.]
[Footnote 409: '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 410: 'And gulls among the sea-waves, seeking their food and
pastime in the brine.'--v. 1079-80.]
[Footnote 411: Od. vi. 66.]
[Footnote 412: '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 413: iii. 213-15.]
[Footnote 414: '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 415: 'Unbroken speech prolonged from the first light of dawn
till the shadows of the dark night.'--iv. 537-38.]
[Footnote 416: '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 417: '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 418: '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 419: 'Since it is absolutely decreed, what each thing can and
what it cannot do, by the conditions of nature.'--i. 586.]
[Footnote 420: 'It is fixed and ordered where each thing may grow and
exist.'--iii. 787.]
[Footnote 421: ii. 254.]
[Footnote 422: ii. 1091.]
[Footnote 423: vi. 32.]
[Footnote 424: '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 425: ii. 8.]
[Footnote 426: ii. 297-99.]
[Footnote 427: i. 262-64.]
[Footnote 428: ii. 573-74.]
[Footnote 429: ii. 575-76.]
[Footnote 430: iii. 964.]
[Footnote 431: ii. 77-79.]
[Footnote 432: '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 433: '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 434: v. 271-72.]
[Footnote 435: '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 436: '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 437: 'And traversed the whole boundless region of space, in
mind and spirit.'--i. 74.]
[Footnote 438: 'Who can order the infinite mass? who can hold with a
guiding hand the mighty reins of immensity?'--ii. 1095-96.]
[Footnote 439: ii. 16.]
[Footnote 440: ii. 348.]
[Footnote 441: i. 28.]
[Footnote 442: 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, or Ovid
do, merely as materials for artistic representation.]
[Footnote 443: iii. 23.]
[Footnote 444: v. 233-4.]
[Footnote 445: ii. 931, etc.]
[Footnote 446: v. 1233-5.]