{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_58224/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_58224","id":"gutenberg_58224","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58224","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Ancient","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Philosophy, Ancient"],"text":"E-text prepared by Turgut Dincer, Les Galloway, and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made\navailable by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive. See\n      https://archive.org/details/greekphilosoph02benn\n\n\n      Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work.\n      Volume I: see https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57126\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n      Footnotes are at the end of the book.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS\nVOL. II.\n\n\nTHE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS\n\nby\n\nALFRED WILLIAM BENN\n\n\n  \u0395\u1f51\u03c1\u03b7\u03ba\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03c1\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03af\u03c9\u03bd \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03cc\u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\n  \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u1f72\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u00b7 \u03c4\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f31 \u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f02\u03bd\n  \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03ad\u03c8\u03b1\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ae\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\n                                                            PLOTINUS\n\n  Quamquam ab his philosophiam et omnes ingenuas disciplinas\n  habemus: sed tamen est aliquid quod nobis non liceat, liceat illis\n                                                              CICERO\n\n\nIn Two Volumes\n\nVOL. II.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLondon\nKegan Paul, Trench, & Co., 1 Paternoster Square\n1882\n\n(The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved)\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS\n\n                                  OF\n\n                          THE SECOND VOLUME.\n\n\n                              CHAPTER I.\n\n                              THE STOICS                      pages 1-52\n\nI. Why the systems of Plato and Aristotle failed to secure a hold\non contemporary thought, 1\u2014Fate of the schools which they founded,\n2\u2014Revival of earlier philosophies and especially of naturalism,\n3\u2014Antisthenes and the Cynics, 4\u2014Restoration of naturalism to its former\ndignity, 6.\n\nII. Zeno and Crates, 7\u2014Establishment of the Stoic school, 8\u2014Cleanthes\nand Chrysippus, 9\u2014Encyclopaedic character of the Stoic teaching, 9\u2014The\ngreat place which it gave to physical science, 10\u2014Heracleitean reaction\nagainst the dualism of Aristotle, 11\u2014Determinism and materialism of the\nStoics, 12\u2014Their concessions to the popular religion, 14.\n\nIII. The Stoic theory of cognition purely empirical, 15\u2014Development of\nformal logic, 16\u2014New importance attributed to judgment as distinguished\nfrom conception, 16\u2014The idea of law, 17\u2014Consistency as the principle\nof the Stoic ethics, 18\u2014Meaning of the precept, Follow Nature,\n19\u2014Distinction between pleasure and self-interest as moral standards,\n20\u2014Absolute sufficiency of virtue for happiness, 21\u2014The Stoics wrong\nfrom an individual, right from a social point of view, 22\u2014Theory\nof the passions, 23\u2014Necessity of volition and freedom of judgment,\n24\u2014Difficulties involved in an appeal to purpose in creation, 24.\n\nIV. The Stoic paradoxes follow logically from the absolute distinction\nbetween right and wrong, 25\u2014Attempt at a compromise with the ordinary\nmorality by the doctrines (i.) of preference and objection, 26\u2014(ii.) of\npermissible feeling, 27\u2014(iii.) of progress from folly to wisdom, 27\u2014and\n(iv.) of imperfect duties, 27\u2014Cicero\u2019s _De Officiis_, 28\u2014Examples of\nStoic casuistry, 29\u2014Justification of suicide, 30.\n\nV. Three great contributions made by the Stoics to ethical speculation,\n(i.) The inwardness of virtue, including the notion of conscience,\n31\u2014Prevalent misconception with regard to the Erinyes, 32\u2014(ii.) The\nindividualisation of duty, 33\u2014Process by which this idea was evolved,\n35\u2014Its influence on the Romans of the empire, 36\u2014(iii.) The idea of\nhumanity, 36\u2014Its connexion with the idea of Nature, 37\u2014Utilitarianism\nof the Stoics, 38.\n\nVI. The philanthropic tendencies of Stoicism partly neutralised by\nits extreme individualism, 40\u2014Conservatism of Marcus Aurelius, 41\u2014The\nStoics at once unpitying and forgiving, 42\u2014Humility produced by their\ndoctrine of universal depravity, 42\u2014It is not in the power of others to\ninjure us, 43\u2014The Stoic satirists and Roman society, 44.\n\nVII. The idea of Nature and the unity of mankind, 44\u2014The dynamism of\nHeracleitus dissociated from the teleology of Socrates, 46\u2014Standpoint\nof Marcus Aurelius, 46\u2014Tendency to extricate morality from its external\nsupport, 47\u2014Modern attacks on Nature, 48\u2014Evolution as an ethical\nsanction, 49\u2014The vicious circle of evolutionist ethics, 50\u2014The idea of\nhumanity created and maintained by the idea of a cosmos, 51\u2014The prayer\nof Cleanthes, 52.\n\n\n                              CHAPTER II.\n\n                        EPICURUS AND LUCRETIUS              pages 53-119\n\nI. Stationary character of Epicureanism, 53\u2014Prevalent tendency to\nexaggerate its scientific value, 55\u2014Opposition or indifference of\nEpicurus to the science of his time, 57.\n\nII. Life of Epicurus, 58\u2014His philosophy essentially practical, 59\u2014The\nrelation of pleasure to virtue: Aristippus, 60\u2014Pessimism of H\u00eag\u00easias,\n61\u2014Hedonism of Plato\u2019s _Protagoras_, 61\u2014The Epicurean definition of\npleasure, 62\u2014Reaction of Plato\u2019s idealism on Epicurus, 63\u2014He accepts\nthe negative definition of pleasure, 64\u2014Inconsistency involved in his\nadmissions, 65.\n\nIII. Deduction of the particular virtues: Temperance, 66\u2014Points of\ncontact with Cynicism, 66\u2014Evils bred by excessive frugality, 67\u2014Sexual\npassion discouraged by Epicureanism, 67\u2014Comparative indulgence shown\nto pity and grief, 68\u2014Fortitude inculcated by minimising the evils of\npain, 69\u2014Justice as a regard for the general interest, 70\u2014The motives\nfor abstaining from aggression purely selfish, 70\u2014Indifference of the\nEpicureans to political duties, 73\u2014Success of Epicureanism in promoting\ndisinterested friendship, 74.\n\nIV. Motives which led Epicurus to include physics in his teaching,\n75\u2014His attacks on supernaturalism directed less against the old\nPolytheism than against the religious movement whence Catholicism\nsprang, 76\u2014Justification of the tone taken by Lucretius, 78\u2014Plato and\nHildebrand, 78\u2014Concessions made by Epicurus to the religious reaction,\n80\u2014His criticism of the Stoic theology, 81.\n\nV. Why Epicurus adopted the atomic theory, 82\u2014Doctrine of infinite\ncombinations, 83\u2014Limited number of chances required by the modern\ntheory of evolution, 84\u2014Objections to which Democritus had laid\nhimself open, 85\u2014They are not satisfactorily met by Epicurus, 85\u2014One\nnaturalistic theory as good as another, 87\u2014except the conclusions of\nastronomy, which are false, 87.\n\nVI. Materialism and the denial of a future life, 88\u2014Epicurus tries to\nargue away the dread of death, 89\u2014His enterprise inconsistent with\nhuman nature, 90\u2014The belief in future torments is the dread of death\nunder another form, 92\u2014How the prospect of death adds to our enjoyment\nof life, 93\u2014Its stimulating effect on the energies, 94\u2014The love of life\ngives meaning and merit to courage, 95.\n\nVII. The Epicurean theory of sensation and cognition, 95\u2014Negative\ncharacter of the whole system, 98\u2014Theory of human history: the doctrine\nof progressive civilisation much older than Epicurus, 98\u2014Opposition\nbetween humanism and naturalism on this point, 99\u2014Passage from a drama\nof Euphorion, 99.\n\nVIII. Lucretius: his want of philosophic originality, 100\u2014His alleged\nimprovements on the doctrine of Epicurus examined, 101\u2014His unreserved\nacceptance of the Epicurean ethics, 103\u2014In what the difference\nbetween Lucretius and Epicurus consists, 103\u2014Roman enthusiasm for\nphysical science, 104\u2014Sympathy of Lucretius with early Greek thought,\n105\u2014The true heroine of the _De Rerum Natur\u00e2_, 105\u2014Exhibition of life\nin all its forms, 106\u2014Venus as the beginning and end of existence,\n106\u2014Elucidation of the atomic theory by vital phenomena, 107\u2014Imperfect\napprehension of law: the _foedera Naturai_ and the _foedera fati_,\n108\u2014Assimilation of the great cosmic changes to organic processes,\n110\u2014False beliefs considered as necessary products of human nature,\n111\u2014and consequently as fit subjects for poetic treatment, 112\u2014High\nartistic value of the _De Rerum Natur\u00e2_, 113\u2014Comparison between\nLucretius and Dante, 113.\n\nIX. Merits and defects of Epicurus: his revival of atomism and\nrejection of supernaturalism, 114\u2014His theory of ethics, 115\u2014His\ncontributions to the science of human nature, 116\u2014His eminence as\na professor of the art of happiness, 116\u2014His influence on modern\nphilosophy greatly exaggerated by M. Guyau, 117\u2014Unique combination of\ncircumstances to which Epicureanism owed its origin, 119.\n\n\n                             CHAPTER III.\n\n   THE SCEPTICS AND ECLECTICS: GREEK PHILOSOPHY IN ROME    pages 120-194\n\nI. Philosophic embassy from Athens to Rome, 120\u2014Lectures of Carneades\non Justice _versus_ Expediency, 121\u2014Public and private morality in\nRome: position of Cato, 122\u2014His motion for the dismissal of the\nembassy, 123\u2014Carneades and Plato, 123.\n\nII. Different meanings of the word scepticism, 123\u2014False scepticism\nas an ally of orthodoxy, 125\u2014Vein of doubt running through Greek\nmythology, 126\u2014Want of seriousness in Homer\u2019s religion, 127\u2014Incredulous\nspirit shown by some of his characters, 127\u2014Similar tendency in\nAeschylus and Herodotus, 128\u2014Negative and sceptical elements in early\nGreek thought, 128.\n\nIII. Protagoras the true father of philosophical scepticism, 129\u2014The\nthree theses of Gorgias, 130\u2014Sceptical idealism of the Cyrenaic school,\n132\u2014Scepticism as an ally of religion with Socrates and Plato, 133\u2014The\n_Parmenides_, the _Sophist_, and the _Timaeus_, 134\u2014Synthesis of\naffirmation and negation in metaphysics and in dialectics, 135\u2014Use of\nscepticism as a moral sanction by the Megarians, 136.\n\nIV. Life and opinions of Pyrrho, 137\u2014Denial of first principles:\npresent aspect of the question, 139\u2014Practical teaching of Pyrrho,\n140\u2014Encouragement given to scepticism by the concentration of thought\non human interests, 141\u2014Illogical compromise of Epicurus, 143\u2014Parasitic\ncharacter of the sceptical school, 143.\n\nV. Origin of the New Academy, 144\u2014Character and position of Arcesilaus,\n145\u2014The Stoic theory of certainty, 146\u2014Criticism of Arcesilaus: his\nmethod of infinitesimal transitions, 147\u2014Systematic development and\napplication of the Academic principle by Carneades, 148\u2014His analysis\nof experience, 149\u2014His attack on syllogistic and inductive reasoning,\n150\u2014His criticism of the Stoic and Epicurean theologies, 151\u2014Sceptical\nconformity to the established religion, 153\u2014Theory of probable evidence\nas a guide to action, 154\u2014_A priori_ reasoning of the ancient sceptics,\n155\u2014Their resemblance in this respect to modern agnostics, 156\u2014and also\nin their treatment of ethics, 157\u2014Obedience to Nature inculcated by\nCarneades, 158.\n\nVI. Return of Greek thought to the Sophistic standpoint, 158\u2014Obstacles\nto a revival of spiritualism, 159\u2014Platonising eclecticism of the\nAcademy: Philo and Antiochus, 160\u2014Approximation of Stoicism to\nAristotle\u2019s teaching, 162\u2014General craving for certainty and stability\nin philosophy, 163.\n\nVII. Sudden paralysis of the Greek intellect, 165\u2014Probable influence of\nthe new Latin literature, 165\u2014Adaptation of Greek philosophy to Roman\nrequirements, 166\u2014Increased prominence given to the anti-religious side\nof Epicureanism, 167\u2014Its ethics ill-suited to the Roman character,\n168\u2014Growing popularity of Stoicism: Panaetius and Posidonius, 168\u2014It is\ntemporarily checked by the influence of the Academy, 169.\n\nVIII. Academic eclecticism of Cicero, 170\u2014His attempted return to the\nprinciples of Socrates, 171\u2014Natural instinct as the common ground of\nphilosophy and untrained experience, 172\u2014Practical agreement of the\ndifferent ethical systems, 173\u2014The weakness of Cicero\u2019s character\nfavourable to religious sentiment, 173\u2014His theological position,\n174\u2014Contrast between Cicero and Socrates, 175.\n\nIX. The ideas of Nature, reason, and utility, 176\u2014Meaning and value\nwhich they possessed for a Roman, 177\u2014Cynic tendencies of Roman\nthought, 178\u2014Influence exercised by the younger Cato in favour of\nStoicism, 179\u2014The philosophy of natural law as illustrated in Roman\npoetry, 180\u2014Stoic elements in the _Aeneid_, 181\u2014The Roman love of\nsimplification and archaism, 182\u2014Cynicism of Juvenal, 183.\n\nX. Neo-Scepticism as a reaction against Naturalism: Aenesid\u00eamus,\n184\u2014Return to the standpoint of Protagoras, 184\u2014Critical analysis of\ncausation and perception, 185\u2014The ten Tropes, 186\u2014Their derivation\nfrom the categories of Aristotle, 186\u2014Ethical scepticism of\nAenesidemus, 187\u2014The Tropes simplified and extended to reasoning,\n188\u2014Their continued invincibility as against all appeals to authority,\n189\u2014Association of Scepticism with Empiricism, 189\u2014Sextus Empiricus and\nHume on causation, 190.\n\nXI. The philosophy of the dinner-bell and its implications,\n191\u2014Subsequent influence of Scepticism on Greek thought, 192\u2014Unshaken\nconfidence of the Neo-Platonists in the power of reason, 193\u2014Their\nphilosophy a genuine return to the standpoint of Plato and Aristotle,\n193.\n\n\n                              CHAPTER IV.\n\n                         THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL             pages 195-265\n\nI. New views respecting the civilisation of the Roman empire,\n195\u2014Prejudices formerly entertained by its historians, 196\u2014The literary\nbias, 197\u2014Evidence of intellectual and moral progress supplied by the\nstudy of jurisprudence and epigraphy, 197\u2014The new school of historians,\n198\u2014The vitality of polytheism much greater than was formerly supposed,\n199\u2014notwithstanding the scepticism of the most distinguished Roman\nwriters, 199\u2014opposed as they were by a large and increasing body of\nreligious belief, 200.\n\nII. Revival of religious authority under Augustus, 200\u2014Feeling of\nthe provincials, 201\u2014Isolated position of Horace, 201\u2014The spread of\nreligious beliefs checked by the political organisation of the old\ncity-state, 202\u2014and encouraged by the Roman conquest, 203\u2014Sceptical\ntendencies of the city-aristocracies, 204\u2014the higher classes more\nfavourable than the people to free thought down to the time of the\nFrench Revolution, 205.\n\nIII. Dissociation of wealth from education under the empire,\n206\u2014Stupidity and credulity of the centurions, 207\u2014Ever-increasing\ninfluence exercised by women, 208\u2014and indirectly by children,\n210\u2014Slavery and religion, 211\u2014The social despotism of the empire\ndestructive to intellectual independence, 211\u2014Causes which prevented\nthe formation of a new aristocracy, 213.\n\nIV. Nature-worship as a universal religion, 214\u2014Isis and Serapis,\n215\u2014Mithras and the worship of the heavenly bodies, 215\u2014Spread of\nJudaism in Rome and elsewhere, 216\u2014The Holy Land and the Sabbath,\n218\u2014Continued devotion paid to the Olympian deities, 219\u2014Elasticity of\nGraeco-Roman polytheism, 219\u2014Development of indigenous superstition,\n220.\n\nV. Oracular character of the pagan religions, 221\u2014Effect produced\nby the intellectual movement in Greece, 221\u2014Popular belief remains\nstationary or becomes retrograde: Deisidaimonia, 222\u2014Faith in omens\namong the educated classes under Augustus, 223\u2014Conversion of an infidel\nby the oracle of Mopsus, 224\u2014Alexander of Abonuteichus and his dupes,\n224.\n\nVI. Belief in prophetic dreams: the work of Artemid\u00f4rus, 227\u2014Conversion\nof an Epicurean, 229\u2014The fighting-cock of Tanagra, 229\u2014Piety displayed\nby animals, 230\u2014Increased reverence paid to Ascl\u00eapius and Heracles,\n230\u2014Aristeides the rhetor, 231\u2014Deification of mortals, 232.\n\nVII. The doctrine of immortality, 233\u2014Epicurean epitaphs, 233\u2014Attitude\nof the Stoics and Peripatetics, 234\u2014Opinions of literary and scientific\nmen, 234\u2014Epitaphs testifying to the popular belief in a future\nlife, 235\u2014Articles found in tombs, 236\u2014Evidence afforded by figured\nrepresentations, 237\u2014Frequency of ghostly apparitions, 240.\n\nVIII. Reaction of supernaturalism on philosophy, 241\u2014Decline\nof Epicureanism, 241\u2014Religious tendencies of Stoicism: Seneca,\n241\u2014Complete substitution of theology for physics by Epict\u00eatus, 243\u2014Why\nhe rejected the doctrine of human immortality, 244\u2014Superstition of\nMarcus Aurelius, 245\u2014Decomposition of Stoicism: the Cynic revival,\n246\u2014Neo-Pythagoreanism: its temporary alliance with Stoicism, 247\u2014and\nsubsequent return to the spiritualism of Plato and Aristotle, 248\u2014The\nNeo-Pythagorean creed, 249.\n\nIX. Advantages possessed by Platonism in the struggle for existence,\n250\u2014Great extent of its influence, 250\u2014The Platonist daemonology,\n251\u2014Conflicting tendencies in Plutarch\u2019s writings, 253\u2014Unmixed\nsuperstition of Maximus Tyrius and Apuleius, 254\u2014A prose hymn to Isis,\n255\u2014Combination of philosophy with Oriental theology, 256\u2014Philo and the\nLogos, 257\u2014Dualistic pessimism of the Gnostics, 259.\n\nX. Superficial analogy between modern Europe and the Roman empire,\n261\u2014Analysis of the points on which they differ, 262\u2014Growth and\ninfluence of physical science, 264\u2014Spread of rationalism through all\nclasses of society, 265.\n\n\n                              CHAPTER V.\n\n                    THE SPIRITUALISM OF PLOTINUS           pages 266-362\n\nI. Plutarch on _Delays in the Divine Vengeance_, 266\u2014A vision of\njudgment, 267\u2014Nero forgiven for the sake of Greece, 268\u2014A century of\nwestern supremacy in politics and literature, 268\u2014Reaction begun by\nNero, 269\u2014Revival of Greek literature: Plutarch and his successors,\n269\u2014Renewed cultivation of philosophy and science, 270\u2014Sophisticism\nand Platonism of the second century, 271\u2014The two methods of\ninterpreting Plato, 272\u2014The problem of the age, 273.\n\nII. Life of Plotinus, 273\u2014His personal influence and popularity,\n275\u2014The part assigned to him in a dialogue of Leopardi\u2019s,\n277\u2014Composition and arrangement of his writings, 277\u2014Mythical elements\nin his biography, 280\u2014Alleged derivation of his teaching from Ammonius\nSaccas, 281.\n\nIII. Difficulties presented by the style of Plotinus, 282\u2014General\nclearness of his philosophy, 284\u2014His dependence on Plato and exclusive\nattention to the metaphysical side of Plato\u2019s teaching, 285\u2014His\nunacknowledged obligations to Aristotle, 287.\n\nIV. Plotinus on the spiritual interpretation of love and beauty,\n287\u2014His departure from the method of Plato, 289\u2014Aristotelian\ninfluences, 290\u2014His subjective standpoint shared by Plato and\nAristotle, 291\u2014Relation of the post-Aristotelian schools to their\npredecessors, 292\u2014The antithesis between materialism and spiritualism\ncommon to both, 292\u2014Services rendered by the later schools, 293.\n\nV. Anti-materialistic arguments of Plotinus, 294\u2014Coincidence with\nmodern philosophy, 295\u2014Criticism of the Aristotelian doctrine,\n296\u2014Weakness of Greek philosophy in dealing with the phenomena of\nvolition, 297\u2014Difficulties raised by astrology, 298\u2014Plotinus as a\nphilosophical critic and reformer, 299.\n\nVI. Intermediate position of the soul between the principles of unity\nand division, 302\u2014Combination of the Aristotelian Nous with the\nPlatonic Ideas, 303\u2014Difficulties to which it gave rise, 304\u2014Unity and\nplurality in the Ideas and in the Nous, 304\u2014Descent of the soul into\nthe material world, 305\u2014The triad of body, soul, and spirit, 307\u2014Search\nfor a supreme principle of existence: data furnished by Plato and\nAristotle, 307\u2014The unity of all souls, 309\u2014Universal dependence of\nexistence on unity, 310\u2014Method for arriving at the One, 310\u2014To what\nextent Plotinus can be called a mystic, 312\u2014Mystical elements in the\nsystems of his predecessors, 313.\n\nVII. Retrospect and recapitulation, 315\u2014Transition to the constructive\nphilosophy of Plotinus, 317\u2014Three aspects of the supreme principle,\n317\u2014Creative power of the One, 318\u2014Influence of false physical\nanalogies on metaphysics, 319\u2014Inconceivability of causation apart from\ntime, 320\u2014Subjective nature of logical and mathematical sequence,\n321\u2014The Neo-Platonic method in the Christian creeds, 322\u2014How Plotinus\nemployed the method of generation by contraries, 322\u2014Difficulty of\nexplaining the derivation of Soul from Nous, 323\u2014and of accounting for\nthe existence of Matter, 323\u2014Return to the Platonic identification of\nMatter with Extension, 326\u2014Generation of the Infinite from the One,\n327\u2014Hesitation of Plotinus between monism and dualism, 328\u2014Influence of\nStoicism, 329\u2014Substitution of contemplation for action as a creative\nprinciple, 330.\n\nVIII. The ethics of Plotinus: derivation of the cardinal virtues,\n331\u2014Absence of asceticism, 332\u2014Condemnation of suicide, 332\u2014Similar\nview expressed by Schopenhauer, 333\u2014Dialectic as a method for attaining\nperfection, 333\u2014The later writings of Plotinus, 334.\n\nIX. Four points of view from which every great philosophical system may\nbe considered, 334\u2014Inferiority of Neo-Platonism to the older schools of\nGreek thought in absolute value, 335\u2014Deserved neglect into which it has\nfallen, 336\u2014In combining the metaphysics of Plato and Aristotle with\nStoicism, Plotinus eliminates the elements of truth and utility which\nthey severally contain, 336\u2014High aesthetic value of Neo-Platonism,\n338\u2014Purity and unworldliness of Plotinus, 339\u2014Complete self-absorption\nof thought which he represents, 340.\n\nX. Neo-Platonism not a product of Oriental tendencies, 341\u2014Nor of the\nreligious revival of the empire, 342\u2014Nor a mystical reaction against\nScepticism, 343\u2014Independent attitude of Plotinus towards the old\nreligion, 344\u2014His views on immortality, 345\u2014His relation to pantheism,\n346\u2014His attack on the Gnostics, 347\u2014Plotinus on the relation between\nreligion and morality, 348\u2014Neo-Platonism a part of the great classical\nrevival, 349.\n\nXI. The place of Plotinus in the history of philosophy, 350\u2014The triumph\nof spiritualism due to his teaching, 350\u2014He secures the supremacy of\nPlato and Aristotle during the Middle Ages, 351\u2014His interpretation of\nPlato universally accepted until a recent date, 352\u2014The pantheistic\ndirection of modern metaphysics largely determined by Plotinus,\n353\u2014Neo-Platonic derivation of the Unknowable, 353\u2014Atavism in\nphilosophy, 355.\n\nXII. History of Neo-Platonism after Plotinus, 355\u2014Its alliance with\nthe old religion, 356\u2014Continued vitality of polytheism, 357\u2014Increased\nstudy of the classic philosophers, 358\u2014Proclus and his system, 358\u2014The\nschools of Athens closed by Justinian, 360\u2014The Greek professors in\nPersia, 361\u2014Final extinction of pagan philosophy, 362.\n\n\n                              CHAPTER VI.\n\n                 GREEK PHILOSOPHY AND MODERN THOUGHT       pages 363-430\n\nI. Continuity in the history of thought, 363\u2014The triumph of\nspiritualism followed by a breach between the two spiritualistic\nschools, 364\u2014Importance of the Realistic controversy, 365\u2014Why Realism\nwas at first favoured by the Church, 366\u2014Revolution effected by the\nintroduction of Aristotle\u2019s complete works into the West, 367\u2014Platonic\nreaction of the Renaissance, 368\u2014Its influence on literature,\n369\u2014Shakspeare a Platonist, 370\u2014Renewed ascendency of Aristotle in\nscience, 371.\n\nII. Bacon as an Aristotelian, 372\u2014History the matter of science,\n373\u2014Bacon\u2019s method of arrangement taken from Aristotle, 374\u2014Origin of\nhis confusion between Form and Law, 375\u2014The superinduction of Forms\nand the atomic theory, 376\u2014Relation of the _Novum Organum_ to the\n_Topics_, 377\u2014The method of negative instances, 378\u2014The Lord Chancellor\nand Nature, 379\u2014The utilisation of natural forces brought about by a\nmethod opposed to Bacon\u2019s, 380\u2014Association of the formal philosophy of\nAristotle and Bacon with the geocentric astronomy, 381.\n\nIII. The philosophic importance of the Copernican system first\nperceived by Giordano Bruno, 382\u2014How it led to a revival of Atomism,\n383\u2014Common pantheistic tendency of the anti-Aristotelian schools,\n384\u2014The analytical method applied to mathematics, 385\u2014Survival of\nAristotelian ideas in the physics of Galileo, 385\u2014His affinities with\nPlato, 386\u2014Influence of Platonic ideas on Kepler, 387.\n\nIV. Descartes\u2019 theory of Matter derived from the _Timaeus_, 388\u2014and\ndeveloped under the influence of Democritus, 389\u2014How the identification\nof Matter with Extension led to its complete separation from Thought,\n390\u2014The denial of final causes a consequence of this separation,\n390\u2014Difference between the Cartesian and Baconian views of teleology,\n391\u2014Doctrine of animal automatism, 391\u2014Localisation of feeling in\nthe brain, 392\u2014The _Cogito ergo sum_ and its antecedents in Greek\nphilosophy, 392\u2014Descartes interprets Thought after the analogy\nof Extension, 393\u2014Revival of the Stoic and Epicurean materialism:\ntransition to Hobbes, 394.\n\nV. Hobbes not a link between Bacon and Locke, 395\u2014The different\nmeanings which they respectively attached to the notion of experience,\n395\u2014Deductive and mathematical method of Hobbes, 396\u2014His opposition\nto the ethics of Aristotle, 397\u2014His identification of happiness with\npower, 398\u2014Subordination of the infinite to the finite in Greek\nphilosophy, 398\u2014Contrast offered by the illimitable aspirations of the\nRenaissance, 399\u2014Elements out of which Spinozism was formed, 400.\n\nVI. Platonic method of Spinoza, 401\u2014The limiting principles of Greek\nidealism, 402\u2014Their tendency to coalesce in a single conception,\n403\u2014Similar result obtained by an analysis of extension and thought,\n404\u2014Genesis of Spinoza\u2019s Infinite Substance, 405\u2014The uses of unlimited\ncredit in metaphysics, 406\u2014Spinoza\u2019s theory of cognition, 407\u2014The\nidentity of extension and thought, 408.\n\nVII. Influence of Aristotle\u2019s logic on Spinoza, 409\u2014Meaning of \u2018the\ninfinite intellect of God,\u2019 410\u2014Contingency as a common property\nof extension and thought, 411\u2014The double-aspect theory not held by\nSpinoza, 412\u2014The distinction between necessity and contingency in its\napplication to ethics, 413\u2014The study of illusion in Malebranche and\nMoli\u00e8re, 414\u2014Intellectual character of Spinoza\u2019s ethics, 415\u2014Parallel\nbetween knowledge and virtue, 416\u2014Enumeration of the Greek elements in\nSpinoza\u2019s philosophy, 417.\n\nVIII. The place of Scepticism in Greek thought, 418\u2014Parallel between\nLocke and the New Academy, 419\u2014Results obtained by a complete\napplication of the analytical method, 420\u2014Close connexion between\nphilosophy and positive science, 420\u2014Increased prominence given to\nethical and practical interests by the method of Locke, 421\u2014The idea of\nNature and the revival of teleology, 422\u2014New meaning given to hedonism\nby modern philosophy, 423\u2014The Stoic side of modern utilitarianism,\n423\u2014Different combinations of the same ideas in ancient and modern\nsystems, 425.\n\nIX. Conflict between analytical criticism and scholasticism,\n426\u2014The theory of evolution as a new application of the atomistic\nmethod, 427\u2014Transitional character of the principal systems of the\nnineteenth century, 428\u2014Aristotelian ideas in modern French thought,\n428\u2014Contrasting relations of ancient and modern philosophy to theology,\n430.\n\n\n\n\n                        THE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE STOICS.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe systems of Plato and Aristotle were splendid digressions from the\nmain line of ancient speculation rather than stages in its regular\ndevelopment. The philosophers who came after them went back to an\nearlier tradition, and the influence of the two greatest Hellenic\nmasters, when it was felt at all, was felt almost entirely as a\ndisturbing or deflecting force. The extraordinary reach of their\nprinciples could not, in truth, be appreciated until the organised\nexperience of mankind had accumulated to an extent requiring the\napplication of new rules for its comprehension and utilisation; and\nto make such an accumulation possible, nothing less was needed than\nthe combined efforts of the whole western world. Such religious,\neducational, social, and political reforms as those contemplated\nin Plato\u2019s _Republic_, though originally designed for a single\ncity-community, could not be realised, even approximately, within\na narrower field than that offered by the mediaeval church and the\nfeudal state. The ideal theory first gained practical significance\nin connexion with the metaphysics of Christian theology. The place\ngiven by Plato to mathematics has only been fully justified by the\ndevelopment of modern science. So also, Aristotle\u2019s criticism\nbecame of practical importance only when the dreams against which\nit was directed had embodied themselves in a fabric of oppressive\nsuperstition. Only the vast extension of reasoned knowledge has enabled\nus to disentangle the vitally important elements of Aristotle\u2019s logic\nfrom the mass of useless refinements in which they are imbedded; his\nfourfold division of causes could not be estimated rightly even by\nBacon, Descartes, or Spinoza; while his arrangement of the sciences,\nhis remarks on classification, and his contributions to comparative\nbiology bring us up to the very verge of theories whose first\npromulgation is still fresh in the memories of men.\n\nAgain, the spiritualism taught by Plato and Aristotle alike\u2014by the\ndisciple, indeed, with even more distinctness than by the master\u2014was\nso entirely inconsistent with the common belief of antiquity as to\nremain a dead letter for nearly six centuries\u2014that is, until the time\nof Plotinus. The difference between body and mind was recognised by\nevery school, but only as the difference between solid and gaseous\nmatter is recognised by us; while the antithesis between conscious\nand unconscious existence, with all its momentous consequences, was\nrecognised by none. The old hypothesis had to be thoroughly thought out\nbefore its insufficiency could be completely and irrevocably confessed.\n\nNor was this the only reason why the spiritualists lost touch of their\nage. If in some respects they were far in advance of early Greek\nthought, in other respects they were far behind it. Their systems\nwere pervaded by an unphilosophical dualism which tended to undo\nmuch that had been achieved by their less prejudiced predecessors.\nFor this we have partly to blame their environment. The opposition\nof God and the world, heaven and earth, mind and matter, necessity\nin Nature and free-will in man, was a concession\u2014though of course an\nunconscious concession\u2014to the stupid bigotry of Athens. Yet at the\nsame time they had failed to solve those psychological problems which\nhad most interest for an Athenian public. Instead of following up\nthe attempt made by the Sophists and Socrates to place morality on a\nscientific foundation, they busied themselves with the construction\nof a new machinery for diminishing the efficacy of temptation or for\nstrengthening the efficacy of law. To the question, What is the highest\ngood? Plato gave an answer which nobody could understand, and Aristotle\nan answer which was almost absolutely useless to anybody but himself.\nThe other great problem, What is the ultimate foundation of knowledge?\nwas left in an equally unsatisfactory state. Plato never answered it at\nall; Aristotle merely pointed out the negative conditions which must be\nfulfilled by its solution.\n\nIt is not, then, surprising that the Academic and Peripatetic schools\nutterly failed to carry on the great movement inaugurated by their\nrespective founders. The successors of Plato first lost themselves in\na labyrinth of Pythagorean mysticism, and then sank into the position\nof mere moral instructors. The history of that remarkable revolution\nby which the Academy regained a foremost place in Greek thought, will\nform the subject of a future chapter: here we may anticipate so far\nas to observe that it was effected by taking up and presenting in\nits original purity a tradition of older date than Platonism, though\npresented under a new aspect and mixed with other elements by Plato.\nThe heirs of Aristotle, after staggering on a few paces under the\nimmense burden of his encyclopaedic bequest, came to a dead halt, and\ncontented themselves with keeping the treasure safe until the time\nshould arrive for its appropriation and reinvestment by a stronger\nspeculative race.\n\nNo sooner did the two imperial systems lose their ascendency than the\ngerms which they had temporarily overshadowed sprang up into vigorous\nvitality, and for more than five centuries dominated the whole\ncourse not only of Greek but of European thought. Of these by far the\nmost important was the naturalistic idea, the belief that physical\nscience might be substituted for religious superstitions and local\nconventions as an impregnable basis of conduct. In a former chapter[1]\nwe endeavoured to show that, while there are traces of this idea in the\nphilosophy of Heracleitus, and while its roots stretch far back into\nthe literature and popular faith of Greece, it was formulated for the\nfirst time by the two great Sophists, Prodicus and Hippias, who, in the\nmomentous division between Nature and Law, placed themselves\u2014Hippias\nmore particularly\u2014on the side of Nature. Two causes led to the\ntemporary discredit of their teaching. One was the perversion by\nwhich natural right became the watchword of those who, like Plato\u2019s\nCallicles, held that nothing should stand between the strong man\nand the gratification of his desire for pleasure or for power. The\nother was the keen criticism of the Humanists, the friends of social\nconvention, who held with Protagoras that Nature was unknowable, or\nwith Gorgias that she did not exist, or with Socrates that her laws\nwere the secret of the gods. It was in particular the overwhelming\npersonal influence of Socrates which triumphed. He drew away from the\nSophists their strongest disciple, Antisthenes, and convinced him that\nphilosophy was valuable only in so far as it became a life-renovating\npower, and that, viewed in this light, it had no relation to anything\noutside ourselves. But just as Socrates had discarded the physical\nspeculations of former teachers, so also did Antisthenes discard the\ndialectic which Socrates had substituted for them, even to the extent\nof denying that definition was possible.[2] Yet he seems to have kept\na firm hold on the two great ideas that were the net result of all\nprevious philosophy, the idea of a cosmos, the common citizenship of\nwhich made all men potentially equal,[3] and the idea of reason as the\nessential prerogative of man.[4]\n\nAntisthenes pushed to its extreme consequences a movement begun by\nthe naturalistic Sophists. His doctrine was what would now be called\nanarchic collectivism. The State, marriage, private property, and\nthe then accepted forms of religion, were to be abolished, and all\nmankind were to herd promiscuously together.[5] Either he or his\nfollowers, alone among the ancients, declared that slavery was wrong;\nand, like Socrates, he held that the virtue of men and women was\nthe same.[6] But what he meant by this broad human virtue, which\naccording to him was identical with happiness, is not clear. We only\nknow that he dissociated it in the strongest manner from pleasure.\n\u2018I had rather be mad than delighted,\u2019 is one of his characteristic\nsayings.[7] It would appear, however, that what he really objected\nto was self-indulgence\u2014the pursuit of sensual gratification for its\nown sake\u2014and that he was ready to welcome the enjoyments naturally\naccompanying the healthy discharge of vital function.[8]\n\nAntisthenes and his school, of which Diogenes is the most popular and\ncharacteristic type, were afterwards known as Cynics; but the name\nis never mentioned by Plato and Aristotle, nor do they allude to the\nscurrility and systematic indecency afterwards associated with it.\nThe anecdotes relating to this unsavoury subject should be received\nwith extreme suspicion. There has always been a tendency to believe\nthat philosophers carry out in practice what are vulgarly believed to\nbe the logical consequences of their theories. Thus it is related of\nPyrrho the Sceptic that when out walking he never turned aside to\navoid any obstacle or danger, and was only saved from destruction by\nthe vigilance of his friends.[9] This is of course a silly fable; and\nwe have Aristotle\u2019s word for it that the Sceptics took as good care\nof their lives as other people.[10] In like manner we may conjecture\nthat the Cynics, advocating as they did a return to Nature and defiance\nof prejudice, were falsely credited with what was falsely supposed\nto be the practical exemplification of their precepts. It is at any\nrate remarkable that Epict\u00eatus, a man not disposed to undervalue the\nobligations of decorum, constantly refers to Diogenes as a kind of\nphilosophical saint, and that he describes the ideal Cynic in words\nwhich would apply without alteration to the character of a Christian\napostle.[11]\n\nCynicism, if we understand it rightly, was only the mutilated form of\nan older philosophy having for its object to set morality free from\nconvention, and to found it anew on a scientific knowledge of natural\nlaw. The need of such a system was not felt so long as Plato and\nAristotle were unfolding their wonderful schemes for a reorganisation\nof action and belief. With the temporary collapse of those schemes\nit came once more to the front. The result was a new school which so\nthoroughly satisfied the demands of the age, that for five centuries\nthe noblest spirits of Greece and Rome, with few exceptions, adhered\nto its doctrines; that in dying it bequeathed some of their most\nvital elements to the metaphysics and the theology by which it was\nsucceeded; that with their decay it reappeared as an important factor\nin modern thought; and that its name has become imperishably associated\nin our own language with the proud endurance of suffering, the\nself-sufficingness of conscious rectitude, and the renunciation of all\nsympathy, except what may be derived from contemplation of the immortal\ndead, whose heroism is recorded in history, or of the eternal cosmic\nforces performing their glorious offices with unimpassioned energy and\nimperturbable repose.\n\n\nII.\n\nOne day, some few years after the death of Aristotle, a short, lean,\nswarthy young man, of weak build, with clumsily shaped limbs, and head\ninclined to one side, was standing in an Athenian bookshop, intently\nstudying a roll of manuscript. His name was Zeno, and he was a native\nof Citium, a Greek colony in Cyprus, where the Hellenic element had\nbecome adulterated with a considerable Phoenician infusion. According\nto some accounts, Zeno had come to the great centre of intellectual\nactivity to study, according to others for the sale of Tyrian purple.\nAt any rate the volume which he held in his hand decided his vocation.\nIt was the second book of Xenophon\u2019s Memoirs of Socrates. Zeno eagerly\nasked where such men as he whose sayings stood recorded there were to\nbe found. At that moment the Cynic Crates happened to pass by. \u2018There\nis one of them,\u2019 said the bookseller, \u2018follow him.\u2019[12]\n\nThe history of this Crates was distinguished by the one solitary\nromance of Greek philosophy. A young lady of noble family, named\nHipparchia, fell desperately in love with him, refused several most\neligible suitors, and threatened to kill herself unless she was given\nto him in marriage. Her parents in despair sent for Crates. Marriage,\nfor a philosopher, was against the principles of his sect, and he\nat first joined them in endeavouring to dissuade her. Finding his\nremonstrances unavailing, he at last flung at her feet the staff and\nwallet which constituted his whole worldly possessions, exclaiming,\n\u2018Here is the bridegroom, and that is the dower. Think of this matter\nwell, for you cannot be my partner unless you follow the same calling\nwith me.\u2019 Hipparchia consented, and thenceforth, heedless of taunts,\nconformed her life in every respect to the Cynic pattern.[13]\n\nZeno had more delicacy or less fortitude than Hipparchia; and the\nvery meagre intellectual fare provided by Crates must have left his\ninquisitive mind unsatisfied. Accordingly we find him leaving this\nrather disappointing substitute for Socrates, to study philosophy\nunder Stilpo the Megarian dialectician and Polemo the head of the\nAcademy;[14] while we know that he must have gone back to Heracleitus\nfor the physical basis from which contemporary speculation had by this\ntime cut itself completely free. At length, about the beginning of the\nthird century B.C., Zeno, after having been a learner for twenty years,\nopened a school on his own account. As if to mark the practical bearing\nof his doctrine he chose one of the most frequented resorts in the city\nfor its promulgation. There was at Athens a portico called the Poecile\nStoa, adorned with frescoes by Polygn\u00f4tus, the greatest painter of the\nCimonian period. It was among the monuments of that wonderful city,\nat once what the Loggia dei Lanzi is to Florence, and what Raphael\u2019s\nStanze are to Rome; while, like the Place de la Concorde in Paris, it\nwas darkened by the terrible associations of a revolutionary epoch.\nA century before Zeno\u2019s time fourteen hundred Athenian citizens had\nbeen slaughtered under its colonnades by order of the Thirty. \u2018I will\npurify the Stoa,\u2019 said the Cypriote stranger;[15] and the feelings\nstill associated with the word Stoicism prove how nobly his promise was\nfulfilled.\n\nHow much of the complete system known in later times under this\nname was due to Zeno himself, we do not know; for nothing but a\nfew fragments of his and of his immediate successors\u2019 writings is\nleft. The idea of combining Antisthenes with Heracleitus, and both\nwith Socrates, probably belongs to the founder of the school. His\nsuccessor, Cleanthes, a man of character rather than of intellect,\nwas content to hand on what the master had taught. Then came another\nCypriote, Chrysippus, of whom we are told that without him the Stoa\nwould not have existed;[16] so thoroughly did he work out the system\nin all its details, and so strongly did he fortify its positions\nagainst hostile criticism by a framework of elaborate dialectic.\n\u2018Give me the propositions, and I will find the proofs!\u2019 he used to\nsay to Cleanthes.[17] After him, nothing of importance was added to\nthe doctrines of the school; although the spirit by which they were\nanimated seems to have undergone profound modifications in the lapse of\nages.\n\nIn reality, Stoicism was not, like the older Greek philosophies, a\ncreation of individual genius. It bears the character of a compilation\nboth on its first exposition and on its final completion. Polemo, who\nhad been a fine gentleman before he became a philosopher, taunted\nZeno with filching his opinions from every quarter, like the cunning\nlittle Phoenician trader that he was.[18] And it was said that the\nseven hundred treatises of Chrysippus would be reduced to a blank\nif everything that he had borrowed from others were to be erased.\nHe seems, indeed, to have been the father of review-writers, and to\nhave used the reviewer\u2019s right of transcription with more than modern\nlicense. Nearly a whole tragedy of Euripides reappeared in one of his\n\u2018articles,\u2019 and a wit on being asked what he was reading, replied, \u2018the\n_Medea_ of Chrysippus.\u2019[19]\n\nIn this respect Stoicism betrays its descent from the encyclopaedic\nlectures of the earlier Sophists, particularly Hippias. While\nprofessedly subordinating every other study to the art of virtuous\nliving, its expositors seem to have either put a very wide\ninterpretation on virtue, or else to have raised its foundation\nto a most unnecessary height. They protested against Aristotle\u2019s\nglorification of knowledge as the supreme end, and declared\nits exclusive pursuit to be merely a more refined form of\nself-indulgence;[20] but, being Greeks, they shared the speculative\npassion with him, and seized on any pretext that enabled them to\ngratify it. And this inquisitiveness was apparently much stronger in\nAsiatic Hellas, whence the Stoics were almost entirely recruited,\nthan in the old country, where centuries of intellectual activity had\nissued in a scepticism from which their fresher minds revolted.[21]\nIt is mentioned by Zeller as a proof of exhaustion and comparative\nindifference to such enquiries, that the Stoics should have fallen\nback on the Heracleitean philosophy for their physics.[22] But all the\nideas respecting the constitution of Nature that were then possible had\nalready been put forward. The Greek capacity for discovery was perhaps\ngreater in the third century than at any former time; but from the very\nprogress of science it was necessarily confined to specialists, such as\nAristarchus of Samos or Archimedes. And if the Stoics made no original\ncontributions to physical science, they at least accepted what seemed\nat that time to be its established results; here, as in other respects,\noffering a marked contrast to the Epicurean school. If a Cleanthes\nassailed the heliocentric hypothesis of Aristarchus on religious\ngrounds, he was treading in the footsteps of Aristotle. It is far\nmore important that he or his successors should have taught the true\ntheory of the earth\u2019s shape, of the moon\u2019s phases, of eclipses, and of\nthe relative size and distance of the heavenly bodies.[23] On this last\nsubject, indeed, one of the later Stoics, Posidonius, arrived at or\naccepted conclusions which, although falling far short of the reality,\napproximated to it in a very remarkable manner, when we consider what\nimperfect means of measurement the Greek astronomers had at their\ndisposition.[24]\n\nIn returning to one of the older cosmologies, the Stoics placed\nthemselves in opposition to the system of Aristotle as a whole,\nalthough on questions of detail they frequently adopted his\nconclusions. The object of Heracleitus, as against the Pythagoreans,\nhad been to dissolve away every antithesis in a pervading unity\nof contradictories; and, as against the Eleatics, to substitute\nan eternal series of transformations for the changeless unity of\nabsolute existence. The Stoics now applied the same method on a scale\nproportionate to the subsequent development of thought. Aristotle\nhad carefully distinguished God from the world, even to the extent\nof isolating him from all share in its creation and interest in its\naffairs. The Stoics declared that God and the world were one. So far,\nit is allowable to call them pantheists. Yet their pantheism was very\ndifferent from what we are accustomed to denote by that name; from the\nsystem of Spinoza, for example. Their strong faith in final causes and\nin Providence\u2014a faith in which they closely followed Socrates\u2014would\nbe hardly consistent with anything but the ascription of a distinct\nand individual consciousness to the Supreme Being, which is just\nwhat modern pantheists refuse to admit. Their God was sometimes\ndescribed as the soul of the world, the fiery element surrounding and\npenetrating every other kind of matter. What remained was the body\nof God; but it was a body which he had originally created out of his\nown substance, and would, in the fulness of time, absorb into that\nsubstance again.[25] Thus they kept the future conflagration foretold\nby Heracleitus, but gave it a more religious colouring. The process\nof creation was then to begin over again, and all things were to run\nthe same course as before down to the minutest particulars, human\nhistory repeating itself, and the same persons returning to live the\nsame lives once more.[26] Such a belief evidently involved the most\nrigid fatalism: and here again their doctrine offers a pointed contrast\nto that of Aristotle. The Stagirite, differing, as it would seem, in\nthis respect from all the older physicists, maintained that there was\nan element of chance and spontaneity in the sublunary sphere; and\nwithout going very deeply into the mechanism of motives or the theory\nof moral responsibility, he had claimed a similar indeterminateness\nfor the human will. Stoicism would hear of neither; with it, as with\nmodern science, the chain of causation is unbroken from first to last,\nand extends to all phenomena alike. The old theological notion of an\nomnipotent divine will, or of a destiny superior even to that will, was\nat once confirmed and continued by the new theory of natural law; just\nas the predestination of the Reformers reappeared in the metaphysical\nrationalism of Spinoza.[27]\n\nThis dogma of universal determinism was combined in the Stoical\nsystem with an equally outspoken materialism. The capacity for either\nacting or being acted on was, according to Plato, the one convincing\nevidence of real existence; and he had endeavoured to prove that there\nis such a thing as mind apart from matter by its possession of this\ncharacteristic mark.[28] The Stoics simply reversed his argument.\nWhatever acts or is acted on, they said, must be corporeal; therefore\nthe soul is a kind of body.[29] Here they only followed the common\nopinion of all philosophers who believed in an external world,\nexcept Plato and Aristotle, while to a certain extent anticipating\nthe scientific automatism first taught in modern times by Spinoza,\nand simultaneously revived by various thinkers in our own day. To\na certain extent only; for they did not recognise the independent\nreality of a consciousness in which the mechanical processes are either\nreflected, or represented under a different aspect. And they further\ngave their theory a somewhat grotesque expression by interpreting those\nqualities and attributes of things, which other materialists have\nbeen content to consider as belonging to matter, as themselves actual\nbodies. For instance, the virtues and vices were, according to them,\nso many gaseous currents by which the soul is penetrated and shaped\u2014a\nmaterialistic rendering of Plato\u2019s theory that qualities are distinct\nand independent substances.[30]\n\nWe must mention as an additional point of contrast between the Stoics\nand the subsequent schools which they most resembled, that while these\nlook on the soul as inseparable from the body, and sharing its fortunes\nfrom first to last, although perfectly distinct from it in idea, they\nemphasised the antithesis between the two just as strongly as Plato,\ngiving the soul an absolutely infinite power of self-assertion during\nour mortal life, and allowing it a continued, though not an immortal,\nexistence after death.[31]\n\nWhat has been said of the human soul applies equally to God, who\nis the soul of the world. He also is conceived under the form of a\nmaterial but very subtle and all-penetrating element to which our\nsouls are much more closely akin than to the coarse clay with which\nthey are temporarily associated. And it was natural that the heavenly\nbodies, in whose composition the ethereal element seemed so visibly to\npredominate, should pass with the Stoics, as with Plato and Aristotle,\nfor conscious beings inferior only in sacredness and majesty to the\nSupreme Ruler of all.[32] Thus, the philosophy which we are studying\nhelps to prove the strength and endurance of the religious reaction to\nwhich Socrates first gave an argumentative expression, and by which he\nwas ultimately hurried to his doom. We may even trace its increasing\nascendency through the successive stages of the Naturalistic school.\nProdicus simply identified the gods of polytheism with unconscious\nphysical forces;[33] Antisthenes, while discarding local worship,\nbelieved, like Rousseau, in the existence of a single deity;[34] Zeno,\nor his successors, revived the whole pantheon, but associated it with\na pure morality, and explained away its more offensive features by an\nelaborate system of allegorical interpretation.[35]\n\nIt was not, however, by its legendary beliefs that the living power\nof ancient religion was displayed, but by the study and practice of\ndivination. This was to the Greeks and Romans what priestly direction\nis to a Catholic, or the interpretation of Scripture texts to a\nProtestant believer. And the Stoics, in their anxiety to uphold\nreligion as a bulwark of morality, went entirely along with the popular\nsuperstition; while at the same time they endeavoured to reconcile it\nwith the universality of natural law by the same clumsily rationalistic\nmethods that have found favour with some modern scientific defenders of\nthe miraculous. The signs by which we are enabled to predict an event\nentered, they said, equally with the event itself, into the order of\nNature, being either connected with it by direct causation, as is the\nconfiguration of the heavenly bodies at a man\u2019s birth with his after\nfortunes, or determined from the beginning of the world to precede it\naccording to an invariable rule, as with the indications derived from\ninspecting the entrails of sacrificial victims. And when sceptics asked\nof what use was the premonitory sign when everything was predestined,\nthey replied that our behaviour in view of the warning was predestined\nas well.[36]\n\nTo us the religion of the Stoics is interesting chiefly as a part\nof the machinery by which they attempted to make good the connexion\nbetween natural and moral law, assumed rather than proved by their\nSophistic and Cynic precursors. But before proceeding to this branch\nof the subject we must glance at their mode of conceiving another side\nof the fundamental relationship between man and the universe. This is\nlogic in its widest sense, so understood as to include the theory of\nthe process by which we get our knowledge and of the ultimate evidence\non which it rests, no less than the theory of formal ratiocination.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn their theory of cognition the Stoics chiefly followed Aristotle;\nonly with them the doctrine of empiricism is enunciated so distinctly\nas to be placed beyond the reach of misinterpretation. The mind is at\nfirst a _tabula rasa_, and all our ideas are derived exclusively from\nthe senses.[37] But while knowledge as a whole rests on sense, the\nvalidity of each particular sense-perception must be determined by\nan appeal to reason, in other words, to the totality of our acquired\nexperience.[38] So also the first principles of reasoning are not to be\npostulated, with Aristotle, as immediately and unconditionally certain;\nthey are to be assumed as hypothetically true and gradually tested\nby the consequences deducible from them.[39] Both principles well\nillustrate the synthetic method of the Stoics\u2014their habit of bringing\ninto close connexion whatever Aristotle had studiously held apart.\nAnd we must maintain, in opposition to the German critics, that their\nmethod marks a real advance on his. It ought at any rate to find more\nfavour with the experiential school of modern science, with those who\nhold that the highest mathematical and physical laws are proved, not\nby the impossibility of conceiving their contradictories, but by their\nclose agreement with all the facts accessible to our observation.\n\nIt was a consequence of the principle just stated that in formal\nlogic the Stoics should give precedence to the hypothetical over the\ncategorical syllogism.[40] From one point of view their preference\nfor this mode of stating an argument was an advance on the method\nof Aristotle, whose reasonings, if explicitly set out, would have\nassumed the form of disjunctive syllogisms. From another point of\nview it was a return to the older dialectics of Socrates and Plato,\nwho always looked on their major premises as possessing only a\nconditional validity\u2014conditional, that is to say, on the consent of\ntheir interlocutor. We have further to note that both the disjunctive\nand the hypothetical syllogism were first recognised as such by the\nStoics; a discovery connected with the feature which most profoundly\ndistinguishes their logic from Aristotle\u2019s logic. We showed, in dealing\nwith the latter, that it is based on an analysis of the concept, and\nthat all its imperfections are due to that single circumstance. It was\nthe Stoics who first brought judgment, so fatally neglected by the\nauthor of the _Analytics_, into proper prominence. Having once grasped\npropositions as the beginning and end of reasoning, they naturally and\nunder the guidance of common language, passed from simple to complex\nassertions, and immediately detected the arguments to which these\nlatter serve as a foundation. And if we proceed to ask why they were\nmore interested in judgment than in conception, we shall probably\nfind the explanation to be that their philosophy had its root in the\nethical and practical interests which involve a continual process\nof injunction and belief, that is to say, a continual association\nof such disparate notions as an impression and an action; while the\nAristotelian philosophy, being ultimately derived from early Greek\nthought, had for its leading principle the circumscription of external\nobjects and their representation under the form of a classified\nseries. Thus the naturalistic system, starting with the application of\nscientific ideas to human life, ultimately carried back into science\nthe vital idea of Law; that is, of fixed relations subsisting between\ndisparate phenomena. And this in turn led to the reinterpretation\nof knowledge as the subsumption of less general under more general\nrelations.\n\nUnder the guidance of a somewhat similar principle the Stoic logicians\nattempted a reform of Aristotle\u2019s categories. These they reduced to\nfour: Substance, Quality, Disposition, and Relation (\u03c4\u1f78 \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03b5\u03af\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd,\n\u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u1f78\u03bd, \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd, and \u03c4\u1f78 \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd[41]); and the change\nwas an improvement in so far as it introduced a certain method and\nsubordination where none existed before; for each category implies, and\nis contained in, its predecessor; whereas the only order traceable\nin Aristotle\u2019s categories refers to the comparative frequency of the\nquestions to which they correspond.\n\nWith the idea of subsumption and subordination to law, we pass at once\nto the Stoic ethics. For Zeno, the end of life was self-consistency;\nfor Cleanthes, consistency with Nature; for Chrysippus, both the one\nand the other.[42] The still surviving individualism of the Cynics is\nrepresented in the first of these principles; the religious inspiration\nof the Stoa in the second; and the comprehensiveness of its great\nsystematising intellect in the last. On the other hand, there is\na vagueness about the idea of self-consistency which seems to date\nfrom a time when Stoicism was less a new and exclusive school than an\nendeavour to appropriate whatever was best in the older schools. For to\nbe consistent is the common ideal of all philosophy, and is just what\ndistinguishes it from the uncalculating impulsiveness of ordinary life,\nthe chance inspirations of ordinary thought. But the Peripatetic who\nchose knowledge as his highest good differed widely from the Hedonist\nwho made pleasure or painlessness his end; and even if they agreed in\nthinking that the highest pleasure is yielded by knowledge, the Stoic\nhimself would assert that the object of their common pursuit was with\nboth alike essentially unmoral. He would, no doubt, maintain that the\nself-consistency of any theory but his own was a delusion, and that\nall false moralities would, if consistently acted out, inevitably\nland their professors in a contradiction.[43] Yet the absence of\ncontradiction, although a valuable verification, is too negative a\nmark to serve for the sole test of rightness; and thus we are led on\nto the more specific standard of conformability to Nature, whether\nour own or that of the universe as a whole. Here again a difficulty\npresents itself. The idea of Nature had taken such a powerful hold on\nthe Greek mind that it was employed by every school in turn\u2014except\nperhaps by the extreme sceptics, still faithful to the traditions of\nProtagoras and Gorgias\u2014and was confidently appealed to in support of\nthe most divergent ethical systems. We find it occupying a prominent\nplace both in Plato\u2019s _Laws_ and in Aristotle\u2019s _Politics_; while the\nmaxim, Follow Nature, was borrowed by Zeno himself from Polemo, the\nhead of the Academy, or perhaps from Polemo\u2019s predecessor, Xenocrates.\nAnd Epicurus, the great opponent of Stoicism, maintained, not without\nplausibility, that every animal is led by Nature to pursue its own\npleasure in preference to any other end.[44] Thus, when Cleanthes\ndeclared that pleasure was unnatural,[45] he and the Epicureans could\nnot have been talking about the same thing. They must have meant\nsomething different by pleasure or by nature or by both.\n\nThe last alternative seems the most probable. Nature with the Stoics\nwas a fixed objective order whereby all things work together as\nco-operant parts of a single system. Each has a certain office to\nperform, and the perfect performance of it is the creature\u2019s virtue, or\nreason, or highest good: these three expressions being always used as\nstrictly synonymous terms. Here we have the teleology, the dialectics,\nand the utilitarianism of Socrates, so worked out and assimilated that\nthey differ only as various aspects of a single truth. The three lines\nof Socratic teaching had also been drawn to a single point by Plato;\nbut his idealism had necessitated the creation of a new world for their\ndevelopment and concentration. The idea of Nature as it had grown up\nunder the hands of Heracleitus, the Sophists, and Antisthenes, supplied\nZeno with a ready-made mould into which his reforming aspirations could\nbe run. The true Republic was not a pattern laid up in heaven, nor was\nit restricted to the narrow dimensions of a single Hellenic state.\nIt was the whole real universe, in every part of which except in the\nworks of wicked men a divine law was recognised and obeyed.[46] Nay,\naccording to Cleanthes, God\u2019s law is obeyed even by the wicked, and\nthe essence of morality consists only in its voluntary fulfilment. As\nothers very vividly put it, we are like a dog tied under a cart; if we\ndo not choose to run we shall be dragged along.[47]\n\nIt will now be better understood whence arose the hostility of the\nStoics to pleasure, and how they could speak of it in what seems such\na paradoxical style. It was subjective feeling as opposed to objective\nlaw; it was relative, particular, and individual, as opposed to their\nformal standard of right; and it was continually drawing men away from\ntheir true nature by acting as a temptation to vice. Thus, probably\nfor the last reason, Cleanthes could speak of pleasure as contrary\nto Nature; while less rigorous authorities regarded it as absolutely\nindifferent, being a consequence of natural actions, not an essential\nelement in their performance. And when their opponents pointed to the\nuniversal desire for pleasure as a proof that it was the natural end of\nanimated beings, the Stoics answered that what Nature had in view was\nnot pleasure at all, but the preservation of life itself.[48]\n\nSuch an interpretation of instinct introduces us to a new\nprinciple\u2014self-interest; and this was, in fact, recognised on all hands\nas the foundation of right conduct; it was about the question, What is\nour interest? that the ancient moralists were disagreed. The Cynics\napparently held that, for every being, simple existence is the only\ngood, and therefore with them virtue meant limiting oneself to the bare\nnecessaries of life; while by following Nature they meant reducing\nexistence to its lowest terms, and assimilating our actions, so far as\npossible, to those of the lower animals, plants, or even stones, all of\nwhich require no more than to maintain the integrity of their proper\nnature.\n\nWhere the Cynics left off the Stoics began. Recognising simple\nself-preservation as the earliest interest and duty of man, they held\nthat his ultimate and highest good was complete self-realisation, the\ndevelopment of that rational, social, and beneficent nature which\ndistinguishes him from the lower animals.[49] Here their teleological\nreligion came in as a valuable sanction for their ethics. Epict\u00eatus,\nprobably following older authorities, argues that self-love has\npurposely been made identical with sociability. \u2018The nature of an\nanimal is to do all things for its own sake. Accordingly God has so\nordered the nature of the rational animal that it cannot obtain any\nparticular good without at the same time contributing to the common\ngood. Because it is self-seeking it is not therefore unsocial.\u2019[50]\nBut if our happiness depends on external goods, then we shall begin\nto fight with one another for their possession:[51] friends, father,\ncountry, the gods themselves, everything will, with good reason, be\nsacrificed to their attainment. And, regarding this as a self-evident\nabsurdity, Epict\u00eatus concludes that our happiness must consist solely\nin a righteous will, which we know to have been the doctrine of his\nwhole school.\n\nWe have now reached the great point on which the Stoic ethics differed\nfrom that of Plato and Aristotle. The two latter, while upholding\nvirtue as the highest good, allowed external advantages like pleasure\nand exemption from pain to enter into their definition of perfect\nhappiness; nor did they demand the entire suppression of passion, but,\non the contrary, assigned it to a certain part in the formation of\ncharacter. We must add, although it was not a point insisted on by the\nancient critics, that they did not bring out the socially beneficent\ncharacter of virtue with anything like the distinctness of their\nsuccessors. The Stoics, on the other hand, refused to admit that there\nwas any good but a virtuous will, or that any useful purpose could be\nserved by irrational feeling. If the passions agree with virtue they\nare superfluous, if they are opposed to it they are mischievous; and\nonce we give them the rein they are more likely to disagree with than\nto obey it.[52] The severer school had more reason on their side than\nis commonly admitted. Either there is no such thing as duty at all,\nor duty must be paramount over every other motive\u2014that is to say, a\nperfect man will discharge his obligations at the sacrifice of every\npersonal advantage. There is no pleasure that he will not renounce, no\npain that he will not endure, rather than leave them unfulfilled. But\nto assume this supremacy over his will, duty must be incommensurable\nwith any other motive; if it is a good at all, it must be the only\ngood. To identify virtue with happiness seems to us absurd, because\nwe are accustomed to associate it exclusively with those dispositions\nwhich are the cause of happiness in others, or altruism; and happiness\nitself with pleasure or the absence of pain, which are states of\nfeeling necessarily conceived as egoistic. But neither the Stoics\nnor any other ancient moralists recognised such a distinction. All\nagreed that public and private interest must somehow be identified;\nthe only question being, should one be merged in the other, and if so,\nwhich? or should there be an illogical compromise between the two. The\nalternative chosen by Zeno was incomparably nobler than the method of\nEpicurus, while it was more consistent than the methods of Plato and\nAristotle. He regarded right conduct exclusively in the light of those\nuniversal interests with which alone it is properly concerned; and if\nhe appealed to the motives supplied by personal happiness, this was a\nconfusion of phraseology rather than of thought.\n\nThe treatment of the passions by the Stoic school presents greater\ndifficulties, due partly to their own vacillation, partly to the very\nindefinite nature of the feelings in question. It will be admitted that\nhere also the claims of duty are supreme. To follow the promptings of\nfear or of anger, of pity or of love, without considering the ulterior\nconsequences of our action, is, of course, wrong. For even if, in\nany particular instance, no harm comes of the concession, we cannot\nbe sure that such will always be the case; and meanwhile the passion\nis strengthened by indulgence. And we have also to consider the bad\neffect produced on the character of those who, finding themselves the\nobject of passion, learn to address themselves to it instead of to\nreason. Difficulties arise when we begin to consider how far education\nshould aim at the systematic discouragement of strong emotion. Here\nthe Stoics seem to have taken up a position not very consistent either\nwith their appeals to Nature or with their teleological assumptions.\nNothing strikes one as more unnatural than the complete absence of\nhuman feeling; and a believer in design might plausibly maintain that\nevery emotion conduced to the preservation either of the individual\nor of the race. We find, however, that the Stoics, here as elsewhere\nreversing the Aristotelian method, would not admit the existence of\na psychological distinction between reason and passion. According to\ntheir analysis, the emotions are so many different forms of judgment.\nJoy and sorrow are false opinions respecting good and evil in the\npresent: desire and fear, false opinions respecting good and evil in\nthe future.[53] But, granting a righteous will to be the only good,\nand its absence the only evil, there can be no room for any of these\nfeelings in the mind of a truly virtuous man, since his opinions on the\nsubject of good are correct, and its possession depends entirely on\nhimself. Everything else arises from an external necessity, to strive\nwith which would be useless because it is inevitable, foolish because\nit is beneficent, and impious because it is supremely wise.\n\nIt will be seen that the Stoics condemned passion not as the cause\nof immoral actions but as intrinsically vicious in itself. Hence\ntheir censure extended to the rapturous delight and passionate grief\nwhich seem entirely out of relation to conduct properly so called.\nThis was equivalent to saying that the will has complete control\nover emotion; a doctrine which our philosophers did not shrink from\nmaintaining. It might have been supposed that a position which the\nmost extreme supporters of free-will would hardly accept, would find\nstill less favour with an avowedly necessarian school. And to regard\nthe emotions as either themselves beliefs, or as inevitably caused\nby beliefs, would seem to remove them even farther from the sphere\nof moral responsibility. The Stoics, however, having arrived at the\nperfectly true doctrine that judgment is a form of volition, seem to\nhave immediately invested it as such with the old associations of free\nchoice which they were at the same time busily engaged in stripping off\nfrom other exercises of the same faculty. They took up the Socratic\nparadox that virtue is knowledge; but they would not agree with\nSocrates that it could be instilled by force of argument. To them vice\nwas not so much ignorance as the obstinate refusal to be convinced.[54]\n\nThe Stoic arguments are, indeed, when we come to analyse them, appeal\nto authority rather than to the logical understanding. We are told\nagain and again that the common objects of desire and dread cannot\nreally be good or evil, because they are not altogether under our\ncontrol.[55] And if we ask why this necessarily excludes them from\nthe class of things to be pursued or avoided, the answer is that man,\nhaving been created for perfect happiness, must also have been created\nwith the power to secure it by his own unaided exertions. But, even\ngranting the very doubtful thesis that there is any ascertainable\npurpose in creation at all, it is hard to see how the Stoics could\nhave answered any one who chose to maintain that man is created for\nenjoyment; since, judging by experience, he has secured a larger\nshare of it than of virtue, and is just as capable of gaining it by\na mere exercise of volition. For the professors of the Porch fully\nadmitted that their ideal sage had never been realised; which, with\ntheir opinions about the indivisibility of virtue, was equivalent to\nsaying that there never had been such a thing as a good man at all.\nOr, putting the same paradox into other words, since the two classes\nof wise and foolish divide humanity between them, and since the former\nclass has only an ideal existence, they were obliged to admit that\nmankind are not merely most of them fools, but all fools. And this,\nas Plutarch has pointed out in his very clever attack on Stoicism,\nis equivalent to saying that the scheme of creation is a complete\nfailure.[56]\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe inconsistencies of a great philosophical system are best explained\nby examining its historical antecedents. We have already attempted to\ndisentangle the roots from which Stoicism was nourished, but one of the\nmost important has not yet been taken into account. This was the still\ncontinued influence of Parmenides, derived, if not from his original\nteaching, then from some one or more of the altered shapes through\nwhich it had passed. It has been shown how Zeno used the Heracleitean\nmethod to break down all the demarcations laboriously built up by Plato\nand Aristotle. Spirit was identified with matter; ideas with aerial\ncurrents; God with the world; rational with sensible evidence; volition\nwith judgment; and emotion with thought. But the idea of a fundamental\nantithesis, expelled from every other department of enquiry, took hold\nwith all the more energy on what, to Stoicism, was the most vital of\nall distinctions\u2014that between right and wrong.[57] Once grasp this\ntransformation of a metaphysical into a moral principle, and every\nparadox of the system will be seen to follow from it with logical\nnecessity. What the supreme Idea had been to Plato and self-thinking\nthought to Aristotle, that virtue became to the new school, simple,\nunchangeable, and self-sufficient. It must not only be independent of\npleasure and pain, but absolutely incommensurable with them; therefore\nthere can be no happiness except what it gives. As an indivisible\nunity, it must be possessed entirely or not at all; and being eternal,\nonce possessed it can never be lost. Further, since the same action may\nbe either right or wrong, according to the motive of its performance,\nvirtue is nothing external, but a subjective disposition, a state\nof the will and the affections; or, if these are to be considered\nas judgments, a state of the reason. Finally, since the universe is\norganised reason, virtue must be natural, and especially consonant to\nthe nature of man as a rational animal; while, at the same time, its\nexistence in absolute purity being inconsistent with experience, it\nmust remain an unattainable ideal.\n\nIt has been shown in former parts of this work how Greek philosophy,\nafter straining an antithesis to the utmost, was driven by the very\nlaw of its being to close or bridge over the chasm by a series of\naccommodations and transitions. To this rule Stoicism was no exception;\nand perhaps its extraordinary vitality may have been partly due to\nthe necessity imposed on its professors of continually revising their\nethics, with a view to softening down its most repellent features. We\nproceed to sketch in rapid outline the chief artifices employed for\nthis purpose.\n\nThe doctrine, in its very earliest form, had left a large neutral\nground between good and evil, comprehending almost all the common\nobjects of desire and avoidance. These the Stoics now proceeded to\ndivide according to a similar principle of arrangement. Whatever,\nwithout being morally good in the strictest sense, was either conducive\nto morality, or conformable to human nature, or both, they called\npreferable. Under this head came personal advantages, such as mental\naccomplishments, beauty, health, strength, and life itself; together\nwith external advantages, such as wealth, honour, and high connexions.\nThe opposite to preferable things they called objectionable; and what\nlay between the two, such as the particular coin selected to make a\npayment with, absolutely indifferent.[58]\n\nThe thorough-going condemnation of passion was explained away to a\ncertain extent by allowing the sage himself to feel a slight touch\nof the feelings which fail to shake his determination, like a scar\nremaining after the wound is healed; and by admitting the desirability\nof sundry emotions, which, though carefully distinguished from the\npassions, seem to have differed from them in degree rather than in\nkind.[59]\n\nIn like manner, the peremptory alternative between consummate wisdom\nand utter folly was softened down by admitting the possibility of a\ngradual progress from one to the other, itself subdivided into a number\nof more or less advanced grades, recalling Aristotle\u2019s idea of motion\nas a link between Privation and Form.[60]\n\nIf there be a class of persons who although not perfectly virtuous are\non the road to virtue, it follows that there are moral actions which\nthey are capable of performing. These the Stoics called intermediate\nor imperfect duties; and, in accordance with their intellectual\nview of conduct, they defined them as actions for which a probable\nreason might be given; apparently in contradistinction to those\nwhich were deduced from a single principle with the extreme rigour\nof scientific demonstration. Such intermediate duties would have for\ntheir appropriate object the ends which, without being absolutely good,\nwere still relatively worth seeking, or the avoidance of what, without\nbeing an absolute evil, was allowed to be relatively objectionable.\nThey stood midway between virtue and vice, just as the progressive\ncharacters stood between the wise and the foolish, and preferable\nobjects between what was really good and what was really evil.\n\nThe idea of such a provisional code seems to have originated with\nZeno;[61] but the form under which we now know it is the result of\nat least two successive revisions. The first and most important is\ndue to Panaetius, a Stoic philosopher of the second century B.C., on\nwhose views the study of Plato and Aristotle exercised a considerable\ninfluence. A work of this teacher on the _Duties of Man_ furnished\nCicero with the materials for his celebrated _De Officiis_, under\nwhich form its lessons have passed into the educational literature of\nmodern Europe. The Latin treatise is written in a somewhat frigid\nand uninteresting style, whether through the fault of Cicero or of\nhis guide we cannot tell. The principles laid down are excellent,\nbut there is no vital bond of union holding them together. We can\nhardly imagine that the author\u2019s son, for whom the work was originally\ndesigned, or anyone else since his time, felt himself much benefited\nby its perusal. Taken, however, as a register of the height reached\nby ordinary educated sentiment under the influence of speculative\nideas, and of the limits imposed by it in turn on their vagaries, after\nfour centuries of continual interaction, the _De Officiis_ presents\nus with very satisfactory results. The old quadripartite division of\nthe virtues is reproduced; but each is treated in a large and liberal\nspirit, marking an immense advance on Aristotle\u2019s definitions, wherever\nthe two can be compared. Wisdom is identified with the investigation\nof truth; and there is a caution against believing on insufficient\nevidence, which advantageously contrasts with what were soon to be the\nlessons of theology on the same subject. The other great intellectual\nduty inculcated is to refrain from wasting our energies on difficult\nand useless enquiries.[62] This injunction has been taken up and very\nimpressively repeated by some philosophers in our own time; but in the\nmouth of Cicero it probably involved much greater restrictions on the\nstudy of science than they would be disposed to admit. And the limits\nnow prescribed to speculation by Positivism will perhaps seem not less\ninjudicious, when viewed in the light of future discoveries, than\nthose fixed by the ancient moralists seem to us who know what would\nhave been lost had they always been treated with respect.\n\nThe obligations of justice come next. They are summed up in two\nprecepts that leave nothing to be desired: the first is to do no harm\nexcept in self-defence; the second, to bear our share in a perpetual\nexchange of good offices. And the foundation of justice is rightly\nplaced in the faithful fulfilment of contracts\u2014an idea perhaps\nsuggested by Epicurus.[63] The virtue of fortitude is treated with\nsimilar breadth, and so interpreted as to cover the whole field of\nconduct, being identified not only with fearlessness in the face of\ndanger, but with the energetic performance of every duty. In a word,\nit is opposed quite as much to slothfulness and irresolution as to\nphysical timidity.[64] Temperance preserves its old meaning of a\nreasonable restraint exercised over the animal passions and desires;\nand furthermore, it receives a very rich significance as the quality by\nwhich we are enabled to discern and act up to the part assigned to us\nin life by natural endowment, social position, and individual choice.\nBut this, as one of the most important ideas contributed by Stoicism\nto subsequent thought, must be reserved for separate discussion in the\nfollowing section.\n\nIn addition to its system of intermediate duties, the Stoic ethics\nincluded a code of casuistry which, to judge by some recorded\nspecimens, allowed a very startling latitude both to the ideal sage\nand to the ordinary citizen. Thus, if Sextus Empiricus is to be\nbelieved, the Stoics saw nothing objectionable about the trade of a\ncourtesan.[65] Chrysippus, like Socrates and Plato, denied that there\nwas any harm in falsehoods if they were told with a good intention.\nDiogenes of Seleucia thought it permissible to pass bad money,[66]\nand to sell defective articles without mentioning their faults;[67]\nhe was, however, contradicted on both points by another Stoic,\nAntipater. Still more discreditable were the opinions of Hecato, a\ndisciple of Panaetius. He discussed the question whether a good man\nneed or need not feed his slaves in a time of great scarcity, with\nan evident leaning towards the latter alternative; and also made it\na matter of deliberation whether in case part of a ship\u2019s cargo had\nto be thrown overboard, a valuable horse or a worthless slave should\nbe the more readily sacrificed. His answer is not given; but that the\npoint should ever have been mooted does not say much for the rigour\nof his principles or for the benevolence of his disposition.[68] Most\noutrageous of all, from the Stoic point of view, is the declaration of\nChrysippus that Heracleitus and Pherecydes would have done well to give\nup their wisdom, had they been able by so doing to get rid of their\nbodily infirmities at the same time.[69] That overstrained theoretical\nseverity should be accompanied by a corresponding laxity in practice\nis a phenomenon of frequent occurrence; but that this laxity should\nbe exhibited so undisguisedly in the details of the theory itself,\ngoes beyond anything quoted against the Jesuits by Pascal, and bears\nwitness, after a fashion, to the extraordinary sincerity of Greek\nthought.[70]\n\nIt was not, however, in any of these concessions that the Stoics found\nfrom first to last their most efficient solution for the difficulties\nof practical experience, but in the countenance they extended to an\nact which, more than any other, might have seemed fatally inconsistent\nboth in spirit and in letter with their whole system, whether we choose\nto call it a defiance of divine law, a reversal of natural instinct,\na selfish abandonment of duty, or a cowardly shrinking from pain. We\nallude, of course, to their habitual recommendation of suicide. \u2018If\nyou are not satisfied with life,\u2019 they said, \u2018you have only got to\nrise and depart; the door is always open.\u2019 Various circumstances were\nspecified in which the sage would exercise the privilege of \u2018taking\nhimself off,\u2019 as they euphemistically expressed it. Severe pain,\nmutilation, incurable disease, advanced old age, the hopelessness\nof escaping from tyranny, and in general any hindrance to leading a\n\u2018natural\u2019 life, were held to be a sufficient justification for such a\nstep.[71] The first founders of the school set an example afterwards\nfrequently followed. Zeno is said to have hanged himself for no better\nreason than that he fell and broke his finger through the weakness of\nold age; and Cleanthes, having been ordered to abstain temporarily\nfrom food, resolved, as he expressed it, not to turn back after going\nhalf-way to death.[72] This side of the Stoic doctrine found particular\nfavour in Rome, and the voluntary death of Cato was always spoken of\nas his chief title to fame. Many noble spirits were sustained in their\ndefiance of the imperial despotism by the thought that there was one\nlast liberty of which not even Caesar could deprive them. Objections\nwere silenced by the argument that, life not being an absolute\ngood, its loss might fairly be preferred to some relatively greater\ninconvenience.[73] But why the sage should renounce an existence where\nperfect happiness depends entirely on his own will, neither was, nor\ncould it be, explained.\n\n\nV.\n\nIf now, abandoning all technicalities, we endeavour to estimate the\nsignificance and value of the most general ideas contributed by\nStoicism to ethical speculation, we shall find that they may be most\nconveniently considered under the following heads. First of all,\nthe Stoics made morality completely inward. They declared that the\nintention was equivalent to the deed, and that the wish was equivalent\nto the intention\u2014a view which has been made familiar to all by the\nteaching of the Gospel, but the origin of which in Greek philosophy\nhas been strangely ignored even by rationalistic writers.[74] From the\ninaccessibility of motives and feelings to direct external observation,\nit follows that each man must be, in the last resort, his own judge.\nHence the notion of conscience is equally a Stoic creation. That we\nhave a mystical intuition informing us, prior to experience, of the\ndifference between right and wrong is, indeed, a theory quite alien\nto their empirical derivation of knowledge. But that the educated\nwrong-doer carries in his bosom a perpetual witness and avenger of\nhis guilt, they most distinctly asserted.[75] The difference between\nancient and modern tragedy is alone sufficient to prove the novelty\nand power of this idea; for that the Eumenides do not represent even\nthe germ of a conscience is as certain as anything in mythology can\nbe.[76] On the other hand, the fallibility of conscience and the\nextent to which it may be sophisticated were topics not embraced within\nthe limits of Stoicism, and perhaps never adequately illustrated by any\nwriter, even in modern times, except the great English novelist whose\nloss we still deplore.\n\nThe second Stoic idea to which we would invite attention is that, in\nthe economy of life, every one has a certain function to fulfil, a\ncertain part to play, which is marked out for him by circumstances\nbeyond his control, but in the adequate performance of which his duty\nand dignity are peculiarly involved. It is true that this idea finds no\nassignable place in the teaching of the earliest Stoics, or rather in\nthe few fragments of their teaching which alone have been preserved;\nbut it is touched upon by Cicero under the head of Temperance, in the\nadaptation from Panaetius already referred to; it frequently recurs\nin the lectures of Epict\u00eatus; and it is enunciated with energetic\nconcision in the solitary meditations of Marcus Aurelius.[77] The\nbelief spoken of is, indeed, closely connected with the Stoic\nteleology, and only applies to the sphere of free intelligence a\nprinciple like that supposed to regulate the activity of inanimate or\nirrational beings. If every mineral, every plant, and every animal has\nits special use and office, so also must we, according to the capacity\nof our individual and determinate existence. By accomplishing the work\nthus imposed on us, we fulfil the purpose of our vocation, we have done\nall that the highest morality demands, and may with a clear conscience\nleave the rest to fate. To put the same idea into somewhat different\nterms: we are born into certain relationships, domestic, social, and\npolitical, by which the lines of our daily duties are prescribed with\nlittle latitude for personal choice. What does depend upon ourselves is\nto make the most of these conditions and to perform the tasks arising\nout of them in as thorough a manner as possible. \u2018It was not only out\nof ivory,\u2019 says Seneca, \u2018that Pheidias could make statues, but out of\nbronze as well; had you offered him marble or some cheaper material\nstill, he would have carved the best that could be made out of that.\nSo the sage will exhibit his virtue in wealth, if he be permitted; if\nnot, in poverty; if possible, in his own country; if not, in exile; if\npossible, as a general; if not, as a soldier; if possible, in bodily\nvigour; if not, in weakness. Whatever fortune be granted him, he will\nmake it the means for some memorable achievement.\u2019 Or, to take the more\nhomely comparisons of Epict\u00eatus: \u2018The weaver does not manufacture his\nwool, but works up what is given him.\u2019 \u2018Remember that you are to act in\nwhatever drama the manager may choose, a long or short one according\nto his pleasure. Should he give you the part of a beggar, take care\nto act that becomingly; and the same should it be a lame man, or a\nmagistrate, or a private citizen. For your business is to act well the\ncharacter that is given to you, but to choose it is the business of\nanother.\u2018So spoke the humble freedman; but the master of the world had\nalso to recognise what fateful limits were imposed on his beneficent\nactivity. \u2018Why wait, O man!\u2019 exclaims Marcus Aurelius. \u2018Do what Nature\nnow demands; make haste and look not round to see if any know it; nor\nhope for Plato\u2019s Republic, but be content with the smallest progress,\nand consider that the result even of this will be no little thing.\u2019[78]\nCarlyle was not a Stoic; but in this respect his teaching breathes the\nbest spirit of Stoicism; and, to the same extent also, through his\nwhole life he practised what he taught.\n\nThe implications of such an ethical standard are, on the whole,\nconservative; it is assumed that social institutions are, taking them\naltogether, nearly the best possible at any moment; and that our\ntruest wisdom is to make the most of them, instead of sighing for\nsome other sphere where our grand aspirations or volcanic passions\nmight find a readier outlet for their feverish activity. And if the\nteaching of the first Stoics did not take the direction here indicated,\nit was because they, with the communistic theories inherited from\ntheir Cynic predecessors, began by condemning all existing social\ndistinctions as irrational. They wished to abolish local religion,\nproperty, the family, and the State, as a substitute for which the\nwhole human race was to be united under a single government, without\nprivate possessions or slaves, and with a complete community of women\nand children.[79] It must, however, have gradually dawned on them that\nsuch a radical subversion of the present system was hardly compatible\nwith their belief in the providential origin of all things; and that,\nbesides this, the virtues which they made it so much their object to\nrecommend, would be, for the most part, superfluous in a communistic\nsociety. At the same time, the old notion of S\u00f4phrosyn\u00ea as a virtue\nwhich consisted in minding one\u2019s own business, or, stated more\ngenerally, in discerning and doing whatever work one is best fitted\nfor, would continue to influence ethical teaching, with the effect of\ngiving more and more individuality to the definition of duty. And the\nStoic idea of a perfect sage, including as it did the possession of\nevery accomplishment and an exclusive fitness for discharging every\nhonourable function, would seem much less chimerical if interpreted\nto mean that a noble character, while everywhere intrinsically the\nsame, might be realised under as many divergent forms as there are\nopportunities for continuous usefulness in life.[80]\n\nWe can understand, then, why the philosophy which, when first\npromulgated, had tended to withdraw its adherents from participation\nin public life, should, when transplanted to Roman soil, have become\nassociated with an energetic interest in politics; why it was so\neagerly embraced by those noble statesmen who fought to the death in\ndefence of their ancient liberties; how it could become the cement\nof a senatorial opposition under the worst Caesars; how it could be\nthe inspiration and support of Rome\u2019s Prime Minister during that\n_quinquennium Neronis_ which was the one bright episode in more than\nhalf a century of shame and terror; how, finally, it could mount the\nthrone with Marcus Aurelius, and prove, through his example, that\nthe world\u2019s work might be most faithfully performed by one in whose\nmeditations mere worldly interests occupied the smallest space. Nor\ncan we agree with Zeller in thinking that it was the nationality, and\nnot the philosophy, of these disciples which made them such efficient\nstatesmen.[81] On the contrary, it seems to us that the \u2018Romanism\u2019 of\nthese men was inseparable from their philosophy, and that they were all\nthe more Roman because they were Stoics as well.\n\nThe third great idea of Stoicism was its doctrine of humanity. Men are\nall children of one Father, and citizens of one State; the highest\nmoral law is, Follow Nature, and Nature has made them to be social\nand to love one another; the private interest of each is, or should\nbe, identified with the universal interest; we should live for others\nthat we may live for ourselves; even to our enemies we should show\nlove and not anger; the unnaturalness of passion is proved by nothing\nmore clearly than by its anti-social and destructive tendencies. Here,\nalso, the three great Stoics of the Roman empire\u2014Seneca, Epict\u00eatus,\nand Marcus Aurelius\u2014rather than the founders of the school, must be\nour authorities;[82] whether it be because their lessons correspond to\na more developed state of thought, or simply because they have been\nmore perfectly preserved. The former explanation is, perhaps, the more\ngenerally accepted. There seems, however, good reason for believing\nthat the idea of universal love\u2014the highest of all philosophical ideas\nnext to that of the universe itself\u2014dates further back than is commonly\nsupposed. It can hardly be due to Seneca, who had evidently far more\ncapacity for popularising and applying the thoughts of others than for\noriginal speculation, and who on this subject expresses himself with\na rhetorical fluency not usually characterising the exposition of new\ndiscoveries. The same remark applies to his illustrious successors,\nwho, while agreeing with him in tone, do not seem to have drawn on\nhis writings for their philosophy. It is also clear that the idea in\nquestion springs from two essentially Stoic conceptions: the objective\nconception of a unified world, a cosmos to which all men belong; and\nthe subjective conception of a rational nature common to them all.\nThese, again, are rooted in early Greek thought, and were already\nemerging into distinctness at the time of Socrates. Accordingly we find\nthat Plato, having to compose a characteristic speech for the Sophist\nHippias, makes him say that like-minded men are by nature kinsmen and\nfriends to one another.[83] Nature, however, soon came to be viewed\nunder a different aspect, and it was maintained, just as by some living\nphilosophers, that her true law is the universal oppression of the weak\nby the strong. Then the idea of mind came in as a salutary corrective.\nIt had supplied a basis for the ethics of Protagoras, and still more\nfor the ethics of Socrates; it was now combined with its old rival by\nthe Stoics, and from their union arose the conception of human nature\nas something allied with and illustrated by all other forms of animal\nlife, yet capable, if fully developed, of rising infinitely above them.\nNevertheless, the individual and the universal element were never quite\nreconciled in the Stoic ethics. The altruistic quality of justice was\nclearly perceived; but no attempt was made to show that all virtue is\nessentially social, and has come to be recognised as obligatory on\nthe individual mainly because it conduces to the safety of the whole\ncommunity. The learner was told to conquer his passions for his own\nsake rather than for the sake of others; and indulgence in violent\nanger, though more energetically denounced, was, in theory, placed on\na par with immoderate delight or uncontrollable distress. So also,\nvices of impurity were classed with comparatively harmless forms of\nsensuality, and considered in reference, not to the social degradation\nof their victims, but to the spiritual defilement of their perpetrators.\n\nYet, while the Stoics were far from anticipating the methods of\nmodern Utilitarianism, they were, in a certain sense, strict\nUtilitarians\u2014that is to say, they measured the goodness or badness\nof actions by their consequences; in other words, by their bearing\non the supposed interest of the individual or of the community. They\ndid not, it is true, identify interest with pleasure or the absence\nof pain; but although, in our time, Hedonism and Utilitarianism are,\nfor convenience, treated as interchangeable terms, they need not\nnecessarily be so. If any one choose to regard bodily strength, health,\nwealth, beauty, intellect, knowledge, or even simple existence, as the\nhighest good and the end conduciveness to which determines the morality\nof actions, he is a Utilitarian; and, even if it could be shown that a\nmaximum of happiness would be ensured by the attainment of his end, he\nwould not on that account become a Hedonist. Now it is certain that the\nearly Stoics, at least, regarded the preservation of the human race as\nan end which rightfully took precedence of every other consideration;\nand, like Charles Austin, they sometimes pushed their principles to\nparadoxical or offensive extremes, apparently for no other purpose\nthan that of affronting the common feelings of mankind,[84] without\nremembering that such feelings were likely to represent embodied\nexperiences of utility. Thus\u2014apart from their communistic theories\u2014they\nwere fond of specifying the circumstances in which incest would become\nlegitimate; and they are said not only to have sanctioned cannibalism\nin cases of extreme necessity, but even to have recommended its\nintroduction as a substitute for burial or cremation; although this, we\nmay hope, was rather a grim illustration of what they meant by moral\nindifference than a serious practical suggestion.[85]\n\nBesides the encouragement which it gave to kind offices between\nfriends and neighbours, the Stoic doctrine of humanity and mutual\nlove was honourably exemplified in Seneca\u2019s emphatic condemnation of\nthe gladiatorial games and of the horrible abuses connected with\ndomestic slavery in Rome.[86] But we miss a clear perception that\nsuch abuses are always and everywhere the consequences of slavery;\nand the outspoken abolitionism of the naturalists alluded to by\nAristotle does not seem to have been imitated by their successors in\nlater ages.[87] The most one can say is that the fiction of original\nliberty was imported into Roman jurisprudence through the agency of\nStoic lawyers, and helped to familiarise men\u2019s minds with the idea\nof universal emancipation before political and economical conditions\npermitted it to be made a reality.\n\n\nVI.\n\nIt is probable that the philanthropic tendencies of the Stoics\nwere, to a great extent, neutralised by the extreme individualism\nwhich formed the reverse side of their philosophical character; and\nalso by what may be called the subjective idealism of their ethics.\nAccording to their principles, no one can really do good to any one\nelse, since what does not depend on my will is not a good to me. The\naltruistic virtues are valuable, not as sources of beneficent action,\nbut as manifestations of benevolent sentiment. Thus, to set on foot\ncomprehensive schemes for the relief of human suffering seemed no part\nof the Stoic\u2019s business. And the abolition of slavery, even had it been\npracticable, would have seemed rather superfluous to one who held that\ntrue freedom is a mental condition within the reach of all who desire\nit,[88] while the richest and most powerful may be, and for the most\npart actually are, without it. Moreover, at the time when philosophy\ngained its greatest ascendency, the one paramount object of practical\nstatesmen must have been to save civilisation from the barbarians,\na work to which Marcus Aurelius devoted his life. Hence we learn\nwithout surprise that the legislative efforts of the imperial Stoic\nwere directed to the strengthening, rather than to the renovation,\nof ancient institutions.[89] Certain enactments were, indeed, framed\nfor the protection of those who took part in the public games. It was\nprovided, with a humanity from which even our own age might learn\nsomething, that performers on the high rope should be ensured against\nthe consequences of an accidental fall by having the ground beneath\nthem covered with feather beds; and the gladiators were only allowed\nto fight with blunted weapons.[90] It must, however, be noted that in\nspeaking of the combats with wild beasts which were still allowed to\ncontinue under his reign, Marcus Aurelius dwells only on the monotonous\ncharacter which made them exceedingly wearisome to a cultivated mind;\njust as a philosophic sportsman may sometimes be heard to observe\nthat shooting one grouse is very like shooting another; while elsewhere\nhe refers with simple contempt to the poor wretches who, when already\nhalf-devoured by the wild beasts, begged to be spared for another\nday\u2019s amusement.[91] Whether he knew the whole extent of the judicial\natrocities practised on his Christian subjects may well be doubted;\nbut it maybe equally doubted whether, had he known it, he would have\ninterfered to save them. Pain and death were no evils; but it was an\nevil that the law should be defied.[92]\n\nThose manifestations of sympathy which are often so much more precious\nthan material assistance were also repugnant to Stoic principles. On\nthis subject, Epict\u00eatus expresses himself with singular harshness.\n\u2018Do not,\u2019 he says, \u2018let yourself be put out by the sufferings of your\nfriends. If they are unhappy, it is their own fault. God made them\nfor happiness, not for misery. They are grieved at parting from you,\nare they? Why, then, did they set their affections on things outside\nthemselves? If they suffer for their folly it serves them right.\u2019[93]\n\nOn the other hand, if Stoicism did not make men pitiful, it made them\ninfinitely forgiving. Various causes conspired to bring about this\nresult. If all are sinners, and if all sins are equal, no one has\na right, under pretence of superior virtue, to cast a stone at his\nfellows. Such is the point of view insisted on with especial emphasis\nby Seneca, who, more perhaps than other philosophers, had reason to be\nconscious how far his practice fell short of his professions.[94] But,\nspeaking generally, pride was the very last fault with which the Stoics\ncould be charged. Both in ancient and modern times, satirists have been\nprone to assume that every disciple of the Porch, in describing his\nideal of a wise man, was actually describing himself. No misconception\ncould be more complete. It is like supposing that, because Christ\ncommanded his followers to be perfect even as their heavenly Father\nis perfect, every Christian for that reason thinks himself equal to\nGod. The wise man of the Stoics had, by their own acknowledgment, never\nbeen realised at all; he had only been approached by three characters,\nSocrates, Antisthenes, and Diogenes.[95] \u2018May the sage fall in love?\u2019\nasked a young man of Panaetius. \u2018What the sage may do,\u2019 replied the\nmaster, \u2018is a question to be considered at some future time. Meanwhile,\nyou and I, who are very far from being sages, had better take care not\nto let ourselves become the slaves of a degrading passion.\u2019[96]\n\nIn the next place, if it is not in the power of others to injure us,\nwe have no right to resent anything that they can do to us. So argues\nEpict\u00eatus, who began to learn philosophy when still a slave, and\nwas carefully prepared by his instructor, Musonius, to bear without\nrepining whatever outrages his master might choose to inflict on him.\nFinally, to those who urged that they might justly blame the evil\nintentions of their assailants, Marcus Aurelius could reply that even\nthis was too presumptuous, that all men did what they thought right,\nand that the motives of none could be adequately judged except by\nhimself.[97] And all the Stoics found a common ground for patience\nin their optimistic fatalism, in the doctrine that whatever happens\nis both necessarily determined, and determined by absolute goodness\ncombined with infallible wisdom.[98]\n\nDoctrines like these, if consistently carried out, would have utterly\ndestroyed so much of morality as depends on the social sanction; while,\nby inculcating the absolute indifference of external actions, they\nmight ultimately have paralysed the individual conscience itself. But\nthe Stoics were not consistent. Unlike some modern moralists, who\nare ready to forgive every injury so long as they are not themselves\nthe victims, our philosophers were unsparing in their denunciations\nof wrong-doing; and it is very largely to their indignant protests\nthat we are indebted for our knowledge of the corruption prevalent\nin Roman society under the Empire. It may even be contended that, in\nthis respect, our judgment has been unfairly biassed. The picture\ndrawn by the Stoics, or by writers trained under their influence,\nseems to have been too heavily charged with shadow; and but for the\narchaeological evidence we should not have known how much genuine human\naffection lay concealed in those lower social strata whose records can\nonly be studied on their tombs.[99] It was among these classes that\nChristianity found the readiest acceptance, simply because it gave a\nsupernatural sanction to habits and sentiments already made familiar by\nthe spontaneous tendencies of an unwarlike r\u00e9gime.\n\n\nVII.\n\nBefore parting with Stoicism we have to say a few words on the\nmetaphysical foundation of the whole system\u2014the theory of Nature\nconsidered as a moral guide and support. It has been shown that\nthe ultimate object of this, as of many other ethical theories,\nboth ancient and modern, was to reconcile the instincts of\nindividual self-preservation with virtue, which is the instinct of\nself-preservation in an entire community. The Stoics identified both\nimpulses by declaring that virtue is the sole good of the individual\nno less than the supreme interest of the whole; thus involving\nthemselves in an insoluble contradiction. For, from their nominalistic\npoint of view, the good of the whole can be nothing but an aggregate\nof particular goods, or else a means for their attainment; and in\neither case the happiness of the individual has to be accounted for\napart from his duty. And an analysis of the special virtues and\nvices would equally have forced them back on the assumption, which\nthey persistently repudiated, that individual existence and pleasure\nare intrinsically good, and their opposites intrinsically evil. To\nprove their fundamental paradox\u2014the non-existence of individual as\ndistinguished from social interest\u2014the Stoics employed the analogy of\nan organised body where the good of the parts unquestionably subserves\nthe good of the whole;[100] and the object of their teleology was\nto show that the universe and, by implication, the human race, were\nproperly to be viewed in that light. The acknowledged adaptation of\nlife to its environment furnished some plausible arguments in support\nof their thesis; and the deficiencies were made good by a revival of\nthe Heracleitean theory in which the unity of Nature was conceived\npartly as a necessary interdependence of opposing forces, partly as a\nperpetual transformation of every substance into every other. Universal\nhistory also tended to confirm the same principle in its application\nto the human race. The Macedonian, and still more the Roman empire,\nbrought the idea of a world-wide community living under the same laws\never nearer to its realisation; the decay of the old religion and the\nold civic patriotism set free a vast fund of altruism which now took\nthe form of simple philanthropy; while a rank growth of immorality\noffered ever new opportunities for an indignant protest against\nsenseless luxury and inhuman vice. This last circumstance, however, was\nnot allowed to prejudice the optimism of the system; for the fertile\nphysics of Heracleitus suggested a method by which moral evil could\nbe interpreted as a necessary concomitant of good, a material for the\nperpetual exercise and illustration of virtuous deeds.[101]\n\nYet, if the conception of unity was gaining ground, the conceptions\nof purpose and vitality must have been growing weaker as the triumph\nof brute force prolonged itself without limit or hope of redress.\nHence Stoicism in its later form shows a tendency to dissociate the\ndynamism of Heracleitus from the teleology of Socrates, and to lean on\nthe former rather than on the latter for support. One symptom of this\nchanged attitude is a blind worship of power for its own sake. We find\nthe renunciation of pleasure and the defiance of pain appreciated more\nfrom an aesthetic than from an ethical point of view; they are exalted\nalmost in the spirit of a Red Indian, not as means to higher ends, but\nas manifestations of unconquerable strength; and sometimes the highest\nsanction of duty takes the form of a morbid craving for applause, as if\nthe universe were an amphitheatre and life a gladiatorial game.[102]\n\nThe noble spirit of Marcus Aurelius was, indeed, proof against such\ntemptations: and he had far more to dread than to hope from the\nunlightened voice of public opinion; but to him also, \u2018standing between\ntwo eternities,\u2019 Nature presented herself chiefly under the aspect of\nan overwhelming and absorbing Power. Pleasure is not so much dangerous\nas worthless, weak, and evanescent. Selfishness, pride, anger, and\ndiscontent will soon be swept into abysmal gulfs of oblivion by the\nroaring cataract of change. Universal history is one long monotonous\nprocession of phantasms passing over the scene into death and utter\nnight. In one short life we may see all that ever was, or is, or is\nto be; the same pageant has already been and shall be repeated an\ninfinite number of times. Nothing endures but the process of unending\nrenovation: we must die that the world may be ever young. Death itself\nonly reunites us with the absolute All whence we come, in which we\nmove, and whither we return.[103] But the imperial sage makes no\nattempt to explain why we should ever have separated ourselves from it\nin thought; or why one life should be better worth living than another\nin the universal vanity of things.\n\nThe physics of Stoicism was, in truth, the scaffolding rather than\nthe foundation of its ethical superstructure. The real foundation was\nthe necessity of social existence, formulated under the influence of\na logical exclusiveness first introduced by Parmenides, and inherited\nfrom his teaching by every system of philosophy in turn. Yet there is\nno doubt that Stoic morality was considerably strengthened and steadied\nby the support it found in conceptions derived from a different\norder of speculations; so much so that at last it grew to conscious\nindependence of that support.\n\nMarcus Aurelius, a constant student of Lucretius, seems to have had\noccasional misgivings with respect to the certainty of his own creed;\nbut they never extended to his practical beliefs. He was determined\nthat, whatever might be the origin of this world, his relation to\nit should be still the same. \u2018Though things be purposeless, act not\nthou without a purpose.\u2019 \u2018If the universe is an ungoverned chaos, be\ncontent that in that wild torrent thou hast a governing reason within\nthyself.\u2019[104]\n\nThere seems, then, good reason for believing that the law of duty,\nafter being divorced from mythology, and seriously compromised by\nits association, even among the Stoics themselves, with our egoistic\ninstincts, gained an entirely new authority when placed, at least in\nappearance, under the sanction of a power whose commands did not even\nadmit of being disobeyed. And the question spontaneously presents\nitself whether we, after getting rid of the old errors and confusions,\nmay profitably employ the same method in defence of the same\nconvictions, whether the ancient alliance between fact and right can be\nreorganised on a basis of scientific proof.\n\nA great reformer of the last generation, finding that the idea of\nNature was constantly put forward to thwart his most cherished\nschemes, prepared a mine for its destruction which was only exploded\nafter his death. Seldom has so powerful a charge of logical dynamite\nbeen collected within so small a space as in Mill\u2019s famous Essay\non Nature. But the immediate effect was less than might have been\nanticipated, because the attack was supposed to be directed against\nreligion, whereas it was only aimed at an abstract metaphysical dogma,\nnot necessarily connected with any theological beliefs, and held by\nmany who have discarded all such beliefs. A stronger impression was,\nperhaps, produced by the nearly simultaneous declaration of Sir W.\nGull\u2014in reference to the supposed _vis medicatrix naturae_\u2014that, in\ncases of disease, \u2018what Nature wants is to put the man in his coffin.\u2019\nThe new school of political economists have also done much to show\nthat legislative interference with the \u2018natural laws\u2019 of wealth need\nby no means be so generally mischievous as was once supposed. And the\ndoctrine of Evolution, besides breaking down the old distinctions\nbetween Nature and Man, has represented the former as essentially\nvariable, and therefore, to that extent, incapable of affording a fixed\nstandard for moral action. It is, however, from this school that a new\nattempt to rehabilitate the old physical ethics has lately proceeded.\nThe object of Mr. Herbert Spencer\u2019s _Data of Ethics_ is, among other\npoints, to prove that a true morality represents the ultimate stage of\nevolution, and reproduces in social life that permanent equilibration\ntowards which every form of evolution constantly tends. And Mr. Spencer\nalso shows how evolution is bringing about a state of things in\nwhich the self-regarding shall be finally harmonised with the social\nimpulses. Now, it will be readily admitted that morality is a product\nof evolution in this sense that it is a gradual formation, that it\nis the product of many converging conditions, and that it progresses\naccording to a certain method. But that the same method is observed\nthrough all orders of evolution seems less evident. For instance, in\nthe formation, first of the solar system, and then of the earth\u2019s\ncrust, there is a continual loss of force, while in the development\nof organic life there is as continual a gain; and on arriving at\nsubjective phenomena, we are met by facts which, in the present state\nof our knowledge, cannot advantageously be expressed in terms of\nforce and matter at all. Even if we do not agree with George Sand in\nthinking that self-sacrifice is the only virtue, we must admit that the\npossibility, at least, of its being sometimes demanded is inseparable\nfrom the idea of duty. But self-sacrifice cannot be conceived without\nconsciousness; which is equivalent to saying that it involves other\nthan mechanical notions. Thus we are confronted by the standing\ndifficulty of all evolutionary theories, and on a point where that\ndifficulty is peculiarly sensible. Nor is this an objection to be got\nrid of by the argument that it applies to all philosophical systems\nalike. To an idealist, the dependence of morality on consciousness is\na practical confirmation of his professed principles. Holding that the\nuniversal forms of experience are the conditions under which an object\nis apprehended, rather than modifications imposed by an unknowable\nobject on an unknowable subject, and that these forms are common to\nall intelligent beings, he holds also that the perception of duty is\nthe widening of our individual selves into that universal self which is\nthe subjective side of all experience.\n\nAgain, whatever harmony evolution may introduce into our conceptions,\nwhatever hopes it may encourage with regard to the future of our\nrace, one does not see precisely what sanction it gives to morality\nat present\u2014that is to say, how it makes self-sacrifice easier than\nbefore. Because certain forces have been unconsciously working towards\na certain end through ages past, why should I consciously work towards\nthe same end? If the perfection of humanity is predetermined, my\nconduct cannot prevent its consummation; if it in any way depends\non me, the question returns, why should my particular interests be\nsacrificed to it? The man who does not already love his contemporaries\nwhom he has seen is unlikely to love them the more for the sake of\na remote posterity whom he will never see at all. Finally, it must\nbe remembered that evolution is only half the cosmic process; it is\npartially conditioned at every stage by dissolution, to which in the\nlong run it must entirely give way; and if, as Mr. Spencer observes,\nevolution is the more interesting of the two,[105] this preference is\nitself due to the lifeward tendency of our thoughts; in other words, to\nthose moral sentiments which it is sought to base on what, abstractedly\nconsidered, has all along been a creation of their own.\n\nThe idea of Nature, or of the universe, or of human history as a\nwhole\u2014but for its evil associations with fanaticism and superstition,\nwe should gladly say the belief in God\u2014is one the ethical value of\nwhich can be more easily felt than analysed. We do not agree with the\nmost brilliant of the English Positivists in restricting its influence\nto the aesthetic emotions.[106] The elevating influence of these should\nbe fully recognised; but the place due to more severely intellectual\npursuits in moral training is greater far. Whatever studies tend\nto withdraw us from the petty circle of our personal interests and\npleasures, are indirectly favourable to the preponderance of social\nover selfish impulses; and the service thus rendered is amply repaid,\nsince these very studies necessitate for their continuance a large\nexpenditure of moral energy. It might even be contended that the\ninfluence of speculation on practice is determined by the previous\ninfluence of practice on speculation. Physical laws act as an armature\nto the law of duty, extending and perpetuating its grasp on the\nminds of men; but it was through the magnetism of duty that their\nconfused currents were first drawn into parallelism and harmony with\nits attraction. We have just seen how, from this point of view, the\ninterpretation of evolution by conscience might be substituted for the\ninterpretation of conscience by evolution. Yet those who base morality\non religion, or give faith precedence over works, have discerned with a\nsure though dim instinct the dependence of noble and far-sighted action\non some paramount intellectual initiative and control; in other words,\nthe highest ethical ideals are conditioned by the highest philosophical\ngeneralisations. Before the Greeks could think of each man as a citizen\nof the world, and as bound to all other rational beings by virtue\nof a common origin and a common abode, it was first necessary that\nthey should think of the world itself as an orderly and comprehensive\nwhole. And what was once a creative, still continues to work as an\neducating force. Our aspirations towards agreement with ourselves and\nwith humanity as a whole are strengthened by the contemplation of that\nsupreme unity which, even if it be but the glorified reflection of our\nindividual or generic identity, still remains the idea in and through\nwhich those lesser unities were first completely realised\u2014the idea\nwhich has originated all man\u2019s most fruitful faiths, and will at last\nabsorb them all. Meanwhile our highest devotion can hardly find more\nfitting utterance than in the prayer which once rose to a Stoic\u2019s\nlips:\u2014\n\n    But Jove all-bounteous! who, in clouds\n      enwrapt, the lightning wieldest;\n    May\u2019st Thou from baneful Ignorance\n      the race of men deliver!\n    This, Father! scatter from the soul,\n      and grant that we the wisdom\n    May reach, in confidence of which,\n      Thou justly guidest all things;\n    That we, by Thee in honour set,\n      with honour may repay Thee,\n    Raising to all thy works a hymn\n      perpetual; as beseemeth\n    A mortal soul: since neither man\n      nor god has higher glory\n    Than rightfully to celebrate\n      Eternal Law all-ruling.[107]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nEPICURUS AND LUCRETIUS.\n\n\nI.\n\nAmong the systems of ancient philosophy, Epicureanism is remarkable\nfor the completeness with which its doctrines were worked out by their\nfirst author, and for the fidelity with which they were handed down to\nthe latest generation of his disciples. For a period of more than five\nhundred years, nothing was added to, and nothing was taken away from,\nthe original teaching of Epicurus. In this, as in other respects, it\noffers a striking contrast to the system which we last reviewed. In our\nsketch of the Stoic philosophy, we had to notice the continual process\nof development through which it passed, from its commencement to its\nclose. There is a marked difference between the earlier and the later\nheads of the school at Athens\u2014between these, as a class, and the Stoics\nof the Roman empire\u2014and, finally, even between two Stoics who stood so\nnear to one another as Epict\u00eatus and Marcus Aurelius. This contrast\ncannot be due to external circumstances, for the two systems were\nexactly coeval, and were exposed, during their whole lifetime, to the\naction of precisely the same environment. The cause must be sought for\nin the character of the philosophies themselves, and of the minds which\nwere naturally most amenable to their respective influence. Stoicism\nretained enough of the Socratic spirit to foster a love of enquiry for\nits own sake, and an indisposition to accept any authority without\na searching examination of its claims to obedience or respect. The\nlearner was submitted to a thorough training in dialectics; while the\nideal of life set before him was not a state of rest, but of intense\nand unremitting toil. Whatever particular conclusions he might carry\naway with him from the class-room were insignificant in comparison\nwith the principle that he must be prepared to demonstrate them for\nhimself with that self-assurance happily likened by Zeno to the feeling\nexperienced when the clenched fist is held within the grasp of the\nother hand. Epicurus, on the contrary, did not encourage independent\nthought among his disciples; nor, with one exception hereafter to be\nnoticed, did his teaching ever attract any very original or powerful\nintellect. From the first a standard of orthodoxy was erected; and,\nto facilitate their retention, the leading tenets of the school were\ndrawn up in a series of articles which its adherents were advised to\nlearn by heart. Hence, as Mr. Wallace observes,[108] while the other\nchief sects among which philosophy was divided\u2014the Academicians, the\nPeripatetics, and the Stoics\u2014drew their appellation, not from their\nfirst founder, but from the locality where his lectures had been\ndelivered, the Epicureans alone continued to bear the name of a master\nwhom they regarded with religious veneration. Hence, also, we must\nadd with Zeller,[109] and notwithstanding the doubt expressed by Mr.\nWallace,[110] on the subject, that our acquaintance with the system\nso faithfully adhered to may be regarded as exceptionally full and\naccurate. The excerpts from Epicurus himself, preserved by Diogenes\nLaertius, the poem of Lucretius, the criticisms of Cicero, Plutarch,\nand others, and the fragments of Epicurean literature recovered from\nthe Herculanean papyri, agree so well where they cover the same\nground, that they may be fairly trusted to supplement each other\u2019s\ndeficiencies; and a further confirmation, if any was needed, is\nobtained by consulting the older sources, whence Epicurus borrowed most\nof his philosophy.\n\nIt may safely be assumed that the prejudices once entertained against\nEpicureanism are now extinct. Whatever may have been the speculative\nopinions of its founder, he had as good a right to them as the Apostles\nhad to theirs; nor did he stand further aloof from the popular religion\nof any age than Aristotle, who has generally been in high favour with\ntheologians. His practical teaching was directed towards the constant\ninculcation of virtue; nor was it belied by the conduct either of\nhimself or of his disciples, even judged by the standard of the schools\nto which they were most opposed. And some of his physical theories,\nonce rejected as self-evidently absurd, are now proved to be in harmony\nwith the sober conclusions of modern science. At any rate, it is not\nin this quarter, as our readers will doubtless have already perceived,\nthat the old prejudices, if they still exist, are likely to find an\necho. Just now, indeed, the danger is not that Epicurus should be\ndepreciated, but that his merits should obtain far more than their\nproper meed of recognition. It seems to be forgotten that what was best\nin his physics he borrowed from others, and that what he added was of\nless than no value; that he was ignorant or careless of demonstrated\ntruths; that his avowed principles of belief were inconsistent with\nany truth rising above the level of vulgar apprehension; and finally,\nthat in his system scientific interests were utterly subordinated to\npractical interests.\n\nIn the face of such facts, to say, as Mr. Froude does, that\nEpicureanism was \u2018the creed of the men of science\u2019 in the time of\nJulius Caesar[111]\u2014an assertion directly contradicted by Lange[112]\u2014is\nperhaps only of a piece with Mr. Froude\u2019s usual inaccuracy when writing\nabout ancient history; but such declarations as that of Mr. Frederic\nPollock, that the Epicurean system \u2018was a genuine attempt at a\nscientific explanation of the world; and was in its day the solitary\nprotest against the contempt of physics which prevailed in the other\npost-Aristotelian schools;\u2019[113] of Prof. Trezza, that the Epicurean\nschool \u2018summed up in itself the most scientific elements of Greek\nantiquity;\u2019[114] of Dr. Woltjer, that \u2018with respect to the laws and\nprinciples of science, the Epicureans came nearest of all the ancients\nto the science of our own time;\u2019[115] and finally, of M. Ernest Renan,\nthat Epicureanism was \u2018the great scientific school of antiquity,\u2019[116]\nare absolutely amazing. The eminent French critic just quoted has\nelsewhere observed, with perfect justice, that the scientific spirit\nis the negation of the supernatural; and perhaps he argues that the\nnegation of the supernatural must, reciprocally, be the scientific\nspirit. But this is only true when such a negation is arrived at\ninductively, after a disinterested survey of the facts. Epicurus\nstarted with the denial of supernatural interference as a practical\npostulate, and then hunted about for whatever explanations of natural\nphenomena would suit his foregone conclusion. Moreover, an enquirer\nreally animated by the scientific spirit studies the facts for their\nown sake; he studies them as they actually are, not resting content\nwith alternative explanations; and he studies them to the fullest\nextent of which his powers are capable. Epicurus, on the contrary,\ndeclares that physics would not be worth attending to if the mind could\nbe set free from religious terrors in any other manner;[117] he will\nnot let himself be tied down to any one theory if there are others\nequally inconsistent with divine agency to be had;[118] and when his\ndemands in this respect are satisfied, that is, when the appearances\nvulgarly ascribed to supernatural causation have been provided with\nnatural causes, he leaves off.\n\nTo get rid of superstitious beliefs was, no doubt, a highly meritorious\nachievement, but it had been far more effectually performed by the\ngreat pre-Socratic thinkers, Heracleitus, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and\nDemocritus. These men or their followers had, besides, got hold of a\nmost important principle\u2014the vital principle of all science\u2014which was\nthe reign of law, the universality and indefeasibility of physical\ncausation. Now, Epicurus expressly refused to accept such a doctrine,\ndeclaring that it was even worse than believing in the gods, since\nthey could be propitiated, whereas fate could not.[119] Again, Greek\nphysical philosophy, under the guidance of Plato, had been tending\nmore and more to seek for its foundation in mathematics. Mathematical\nreasoning was seen to be the type of all demonstration; and the best\nhopes of progress were staked on the extension of mathematical methods\nto every field of enquiry in turn. How much might be done by following\nup this clue was quickly seen not only in the triumphs of geometry, but\nin the brilliant astronomical discoveries by which the shape of the\nearth, the phases of the moon, and the cause of eclipses were finally\ncleared up and placed altogether outside the sphere of conjecture.\nNor was a knowledge of these truths confined to specialists: they\nwere familiar alike to the older Academy, to the Peripatetic, and to\nthe Stoic schools; so that, with the exception of those who doubted\nevery proposition, we may assume them to have been then, as now, the\ncommon property of all educated men. Epicurus, on the other hand,\nseems to have known nothing of mathematics, or only enough to dispute\ntheir validity, for we are told that his disciple Polyaenus, who had\npreviously been eminent in that department, was persuaded, on joining\nthe school, to reject the whole of geometry as untrue;[120] while,\nin astronomy, he pronounced the heavenly bodies to be no larger than\nthey appear to our senses, denied the existence of Antipodes, and put\nthe crudest guesses of early philosophy on the same footing with the\nbest-authenticated results of later observation. It is no wonder, then,\nthat during the whole continuance of his school no man of science ever\naccepted its teaching, with the single exception of Asclepiades, who\nwas perhaps a Democritean rather than a disciple of the Garden, and\nwho, at any rate, as a physiologist, would not be brought into contact\nwith its more flagrant absurdities.\n\nIn order to understand how so vigorous an intellect could go so wildly\nastray, we must glance at his personal history, and at the manner in\nwhich his system seems to have been gradually built up.\n\n\nII.\n\nEpicurus was born 341 B.C., about the same time as Zeno the Stoic.\nUnlike all the other philosophers of his age, he was of Athenian\nparentage; that is to say, he belonged to a race of exclusively\npractical tendencies, and marked by a singular inaptitude or distaste\nfor physical enquiries. His father, a poor colonist in Samos, was,\napparently, not able to give him a very regular education. At eighteen\nhe was sent to Athens, but was shortly afterwards obliged to rejoin\nhis family, who were driven from Samos in 322, along with the other\nAthenian settlers, by a political revolution, and had taken refuge in\nColophon, on the Asiatic coast. In the course of his wanderings, the\nfuture philosopher came across some public lecturers, who seem to have\ninstructed him in the physics of Democritus, and perhaps also in the\nscepticism of Pyrrho; but of such a steady discipline as Plato passed\nthrough during his ten years\u2019 intercourse with Socrates, Aristotle\nduring his twenty years\u2019 studies under Plato, and Zeno during his\nsimilarly protracted attendance at the various schools of Athens,\nthere is no trace whatever. Epicurus always described himself as\nself-taught, meaning that his knowledge had been acquired by reading\ninstead of by listening; and we find in him the advantages as well\nas the defects common to self-taught men in all ages\u2014considerable\nfreshness and freedom from scholastic prejudices, along with a certain\nnarrowness of sympathies, incompleteness of information, inaptitude\nfor abstract reasoning, and last, but not least, an enormous opinion\nof his own abilities, joined to an overweening contempt for those\nwith whose opinions he did not agree. After teaching for some time\nin Mityl\u00ean\u00ea, Epicurus established himself as the head of a school in\nAthens, where he bought a house and garden. In the latter he lectured\nand gathered round him a band of devoted friends, among whom women\nwere included, and who were wont to assemble for purposes of social\nrecreation not less than of philosophic discipline. Just before his\ndeath, which occurred in the year 270, he declared in a letter to\nhis friend and destined successor Hermarchus, that the recollection\nof his philosophical achievements had been such a source of pleasure\nas to overcome the agonies of disease, and to make the last day the\nhappiest of his life.[121] For the rest, Epicurus secluded himself, on\nprinciple, from the world, and few echoes of his teaching seem to have\npassed beyond the circle of his immediate adherents. Thus, whatever\nopportunities might otherwise have offered themselves of profiting by\nadverse criticism were completely lost.[122]\n\nEpicureanism was essentially a practical philosophy. The physical,\ntheological, and logical portions of the system were reasoned out\nwith exclusive reference to its ethical end, and their absolute\nsubordination to it was never allowed to be forgotten. It is therefore\nwith the moral theory of Epicurus that we must begin.\n\nFrom the time of Socrates on, the majority of Greeks, had they been\nasked what was the ultimate object of endeavour, or what made life\nworth living, would have answered, pleasure. But among professional\nphilosophers such a definition of the supreme good met with little\nfavour. Seeing very clearly that the standard of conduct must be\nsocial, and convinced that it must at the same time include the\nhighest good of the individual, they found it impossible to believe\nthat the two could be reconciled by encouraging each citizen in the\nunrestricted pursuit of his own private gratifications. Nor had such\nan idea as the greatest happiness of the greatest number ever risen\nabove their horizon; although, from the necessities of life itself,\nthey unconsciously assumed it in all their political discussions. The\ndesire for pleasure was, however, too powerful a motive to be safely\ndisregarded. Accordingly we find Socrates frequently appealing to it\nwhen no other argument was likely to be equally efficacious, Plato\nstriving to make the private satisfaction of his citizens coincide\nwith the demands of public duty, and Aristotle maintaining that this\ncoincidence must spontaneously result from the consolidation of moral\nhabits; the true test of a virtuous disposition being, in his opinion,\nthe pleasure which accompanies its exercise. One of the companions of\nSocrates, Aristippus the Cyrenaean, a man who had cut himself loose\nfrom every political and domestic obligation, and who was remarkable\nfor the versatility with which he adapted himself to the most varying\ncircumstances, went still further. He boldly declared that pleasure\nwas the sole end worth seeking, and on the strength of this doctrine\ncame forward as the founder of a new philosophical school. According to\nhis system, the _summum bonum_ was not the total amount of enjoyment\nsecured in a lifetime, but the greatest single enjoyment that could\nbe secured at any moment; and this principle was associated with an\nidealistic theory of perception, apparently suggested by Protagoras,\nbut carrying his views much further. Our knowledge, said Aristippus,\nis strictly limited to phenomena; we are conscious of nothing beyond\nour own feelings; and we have no right to assume the existence of any\nobjects by which they are caused. The study of natural science is\ntherefore waste of time; our whole energies should be devoted to the\ninterests of practical life.[123] Thus Greek humanism seemed to have\nfound its appropriate sequel in hedonism, which, as an ethical theory,\nmight quote in its favour both the dictates of immediate feeling and\nthe sanction of public opinion.\n\nThe Cyrenaic school ended, curiously enough, in pessimism. The doctrine\nthat pleasure is the only good, and the doctrine that life yields a\npreponderance of painful over pleasurable feelings, are severally\ncompatible with a preference of existence to non-existence; when\nunited, as they were by H\u00eag\u00easias, a Cyrenaic professor, they logically\nlead to suicide; and we are told that the public authorities of\nAlexandria were obliged to order the discontinuance of his lectures, so\ngreat was their effect in promoting self-destruction.[124]\n\nMeanwhile, hedonism had been temporarily taken up by Plato, and\ndeveloped into the earliest known form of utilitarianism. In his\n_Protagoras_, he endeavours to show that every virtue has for its\nobject either to secure a greater pleasure by the sacrifice of a lesser\npleasure, or to avoid a greater pain by the endurance of a lesser pain;\nnothing being taken into account but the interests of the individual\nagent concerned. Plato afterwards discarded the theory sketched in\nthe _Protagoras_ for a higher and more generous, if less distinctly\nformulated morality; but while ceasing to be a hedonist he remained a\nutilitarian; that is to say, he insisted on judging actions by their\ntendency to promote the general welfare, not by the sentiments which\nthey excite in the mind of a conventional spectator.\n\nThe idea of virtue as a hedonistic calculus, abandoned by its first\noriginator, and apparently neglected by his immediate successors,\nwas taken up by Epicurus; for that the latter borrowed it from Plato\nseems to be proved by the exact resemblance of their language;[125]\nand M. Guyau is quite mistaken when he represents his hero as the\nfounder of utilitarian morality.[126] It was not enough, however, to\nappropriate the cast-off ideas of Plato; it was necessary to meet the\narguments by which Plato had been led to think that pleasure was not\nthe supreme good, and to doubt whether it was, as such, a good at all.\nThe most natural course would have been to begin by exhibiting the\nhedonistic ideal in a more favourable light. Sensual gratifications,\nfrom their remarkable intensity, had long been the accepted types of\npleasurable feeling, and from their animal character, as well as from\nother obvious reasons, had frequently been used to excite a prejudice\nagainst it. On the other hand, Plato himself, and Aristotle still more,\nhad brought into prominence the superiority, simply as pleasures,\nof those intellectual activities which they considered to be, even\napart from all pleasure, the highest good. But Epicurus refused to\navail himself of this opportunity for effecting a compromise with\nthe opposite school, boldly declaring that he for his part could not\nconceive any pleasures apart from those received through the five\nsenses, among which he, characteristically enough, included aesthetic\nenjoyments. The obvious significance of his words has been explained\naway, and they have been asserted to contain only the very harmless\nproposition that our animal nature is the basis, the condition, of\nour spiritual nature.[127] But, if this were the true explanation, it\nwould be possible to point out what other pleasures were recognised by\nEpicurus. These, if they existed at all, must have belonged to the mind\nas such. Now, we have it on Cicero\u2019s authority that, while admitting\nthe existence of mental feelings, both pleasurable and painful, he\nreduced them to an extension and reflection of bodily feelings,\nmental happiness properly consisting in the assurance of prolonged\nand painless sensual gratification. This is something very different\nfrom saying that the highest spiritual enjoyments are conditioned by\nthe healthy activity of the bodily organs, or that they cannot be\nappreciated if the animal appetites are starved. It amounts to saying\nthat there are no specific and positive pleasures apart from the five\nsenses as exercised either in reality or in imagination.[128] And even\nwithout the evidence of Cicero, we can see that some such conclusion\nnecessarily followed from the principles elsewhere laid down by\nEpicurus. To a Greek, the mental pleasures, _par excellence_, were\nthose derived from friendship and from intellectual activity. But our\nphilosopher, while warmly panegyrising friendship, recommends it not\nfor the direct pleasure which it affords, but for the pain and danger\nwhich it prevents;[129] while his restriction of scientific studies\nto the office of dispelling superstitious fears seems meant for a\ndirect protest against Aristotle\u2019s opinion, that the highest pleasure\nis derived from those studies. Equally significant is his outspoken\ncontempt for literary culture.[130] In this respect, he offers a marked\ncontrast to Aristippus, who, when asked by some one what good his son\nwould get by education, answered, \u2018This much, at least, that when he\nis at the play he will not sit like a stone upon a stone,\u2019[131] the\ncustomary attitude, it would seem, of an ordinary Athenian auditor.\n\nIt appears, then, that the popular identification of an Epicurean with\na sensualist has something to say in its favour. Nevertheless, we have\nno reason to think that Epicurus was anything but perfectly sincere\nwhen he repudiated the charge of being a mere sensualist.[132] But\nthe impulse which lifted him above sensualism was not derived from\nhis own original philosophy. It was due to the inspiration of Plato;\nand nothing testifies more to Plato\u2019s moral greatness than that the\ndoctrine most opposed to his own idealism should have been raised from\nthe dust by the example of its flight. We proceed to show how the\npeculiar form assumed by Epicureanism was determined by the pressure\nbrought to bear on its original germ two generations before.\n\nIt had been urged against hedonism that pleasure is a process, a\nmovement; whereas the supreme good must be a completed product\u2014an end\nin which we can rest. Against sensual enjoyments in particular, it\nhad been urged that they are caused by the satisfaction of appetite,\nand, as such, must result in a mere negative condition, marking the\nzero point of pleasurable sentiency. Finally, much stress had been\nlaid on the anti-social and suicidal consequences of that selfish\ngrasping at power to which habits of unlimited self-indulgence must\ninfallibly lead. The form given to hedonism by Epicurus is a reaction\nagainst these criticisms, a modification imposed on it for the purpose\nof evading their force. He seems to admit that bodily satisfaction\nis rather the removal of a want, and consequently of a pain, than a\nsource of positive pleasure. But the resulting condition of liberation\nfrom uneasiness is, according to him, all that we can desire; and by\nextending the same principle to every other good, he indirectly brings\nback the mental felicity which at first sight his system threatened\neither to exclude or to reduce to a mere shadow of sensual enjoyment.\nFor, in calculating the elements of unhappiness, we have to deal, not\nonly with present discomfort, but also, and to a far greater extent,\nwith the apprehension of future evil. We dread the loss of worldly\ngoods, of friends, of reputation, of life itself. We are continually\nexposed to pain, both from violence and from disease. We are haunted\nby visions of divine vengeance, both here and hereafter. To get rid of\nall such terrors, to possess our souls in peace, is the highest good\u2014a\npermanent, as distinguished from a transient state of consciousness\u2014and\nthe proper business of philosophy is to show us how that consummation\nmay be attained. Thus we are brought back to that blissful\nself-contemplation of mind which Aristotle had already declared to be\nthe goal of all endeavour and the sole happiness of God.\n\nBut Epicurus could only borrow the leading principle of his opponents\nat the expense of an enormous inconsistency. It was long ago pointed\nout by the Academicians\u2014and the objection has never been answered\u2014that\npleasure and mere painlessness cannot both be the highest good,\nalthough the one may be an indispensable condition of the other. To\nconfound the means with the end was, indeed, a common fault of Greek\nphilosophy; and the Stoics also were guilty of it when they defined\nself-preservation to be the natural object of every creature, and yet\nattached a higher value to the instruments than to the aims of that\nactivity. In Epicureanism, however, the change of front was more open,\nand was attempted under the eyes of acute and vigilant enemies. If the\ntotal absence of pain involves a pleasurable state of consciousness,\nwe have a right to ask for a definition or description of it, and\nthis, so far as can be made out, our philosopher never pretended\nto supply. Of course, a modern psychologist can point out that the\nfunctions of respiration, circulation, secretion, and absorption are\nconstantly going on, and that, in their normal activity, they give\nrise to a vast sum of pleasurable consciousness, which far more than\nmakes up in volume for what it wants in acuteness. But, whatever his\nrecent interpreters may say,[133] Epicurus nowhere alludes to this\ndiffused feeling of vitality; had he recognised it, his enumeration of\nthe positive sensations, apart from which the good is inconceivable,\nwould have seemed as incomplete to him as it does to us. If, on the\nother hand, the complete removal of pain introduces us to a state of\nconsciousness, which, without being positively pleasurable, has a\npositive value of some kind, we ought to be told wherein it differs\nfrom the ideals of the spiritualist school; while, if it has no\npositive value at all, we ought equally to be told wherein it differs\nfrom the unconsciousness of sleep or of death.\n\n\nIII.\n\nWe have now to see how, granting Epicurus his conception of\npainlessness as the supreme good, he proceeds to evolve from it a\nwhole ethical, theological, and physical system. For reasons already\nmentioned, the ethical development must be studied first. We shall\ntherefore begin with an analysis of the particular virtues. Temperance,\nas the great self-regarding duty, obviously takes precedence of the\nothers. In dealing with this branch of his subject, there was nothing\nto prevent Epicurus from profiting by the labours of his predecessors,\nand more especially of the naturalistic school from Prodicus down.\nSo far as moderation is concerned, there need be little difference\nbetween a theory of conduct based exclusively on the interests of\nthe individual, and a theory which regards him chiefly as a portion\nof some larger whole. Accordingly, we find that our philosopher, in\nhis praises of frugality, closely approximated to the Cynic and Stoic\nstandards\u2014so much so, indeed, that his expressions on the subject are\nrepeatedly quoted by Seneca as the best that could be found. Perhaps\nthe Roman moralist valued them less for their own sake than as being,\nto some extent, the admissions of an opponent. But, in truth, he was\nonly reclaiming what the principles of his own sect had originally\ninspired. To be content with the barest necessaries was a part of that\nNature-worship against which Greek humanism, with its hedonistic and\nidealistic offshoots, had begun by vigorously protesting. Hence many\npassages in Lucretius express exactly the same sentiments as those\nwhich are most characteristic of Latin literature at a time when it is\ncompletely dominated by Stoic influences.\n\nIt is another Cynic trait in Epicurus that he should address himself\nto a much wider audience than the Sophists, or even than Socrates\nand his spiritualistic successors. This circumstance suggested a new\nargument in favour of temperance. His philosophy being intended for the\nuse of all mankind without exception, was bound to show that happiness\nis within the reach of the poor as well as of the rich; and this could\nnot be did it depend, to any appreciable extent, on indulgences which\nwealth alone can purchase. And even the rich will not enjoy complete\ntranquillity unless they are taught that the loss of fortune is not to\nbe feared, since their appetites can be easily satisfied without it.\nThus the pains arising from excess, though doubtless not forgotten,\nseem to have been the least important motive to restraint in his\nteaching. The precepts of Epicurus are only too faithfully followed\nin the southern countries for whose benefit they were first framed.\nIt is a matter of common observation, that the extreme frugality of\nthe Italians, by leaving them satisfied with the barest sufficiency,\ndeprives them of a most valuable spur to exertion, and allows a vast\nfund of possible energy to moulder away in listless apathy, or to\nconsume itself more rapidly in sordid vice. Moreover, as economists\nhave long since pointed out, where the standard of comfort is high,\nthere will be a large available margin to fall back upon in periods\nof distress; while where it is low, the limit of subsistence will be\nalways dangerously near.\n\nThe enemies of hedonism had taken a malicious satisfaction in\nidentifying it with voluptuous indulgence, and had scornfully asked if\nthat could be the supreme good and proper object of virtuous endeavour,\nthe enjoyment of which was habitually associated with secresy and\nshame. It was, perhaps, to screen his system from such reproaches that\nEpicurus went a long way towards the extreme limit of asceticism, and\nhinted at the advisability of complete abstinence from that which,\nalthough natural, is not necessary to self-preservation, and involves\na serious drain on the vital energies.[134] In this respect, he was\nnot followed by Lucretius, who has no objection to the satisfaction\nof animal instinct, so long as it is not accompanied by personal\npassion.[135] Neither the Greek moralist nor the Roman poet could\nforesee what a great part in the history of civilisation chivalrous\ndevotion to a beloved object was destined to play, although the uses of\nidealised desire had already revealed themselves to Plato\u2019s penetrating\ngaze.\n\nWith regard to those more refined aspects of temperance, in which it\nappears as a restraint exercised by reason over anger, pity, and grief,\nEpicurus and his followers refused to go all lengths with the Stoics in\ntheir effort to extirpate emotion altogether. But here they seem not\nto have proceeded on any fixed principle, except that of contradicting\nthe opposite school. That the sage will feel pity, and sometimes shed\ntears,[136] is a sentiment from which few are now likely to dissent;\nyet the absolute impassivity at which Stoicism aimed seems still more\nconsistent with a philosophy whose ideal was complete exemption from\npain; while in practice it would be rather easier to attain than the\npower of feeling quite happy on the rack, which the accomplished\nEpicurean was expected to possess.[137]\n\nNext to Temperance comes Fortitude; and with it the difficulties of\nreconciling Epicureanism with the ordinary morality are considerably\nincreased. The old conception of this virtue was willingness to\nface pain and death on behalf of a noble cause,[138] which would be\ngenerally understood to mean the salvation of family, friends, and\nfatherland; and the ultimate sanction of such self-devotion was found\nin the pressure of public opinion. Idealistic philosophy, taking still\nhigher ground, not only refused to balance the fear of pain and death\nagainst the fear of infamy or the hope of applause, but added public\nopinion to the considerations which a good man in the discharge of his\nduty would, if necessary, despise. Epicurus also inculcated disregard\nfor reputation, except when it might lead to inconveniences of a\ntangible description;[139] but he had nothing beyond the calculations\nof self-interest to put in its place. A modern utilitarian is bound\nto undergo loss and suffering in his own person for the prevention\nof greater loss and suffering elsewhere; an egoistic hedonist cannot\nconsistently be brave, except for the sake of his own future security.\nThe method by which Epicurus reconciled interest with courage was\nto minimise the importance of whatever injuries could be inflicted\nby external circumstances; just as in his theory of Temperance he\nhad minimised the importance of bodily pleasures. How he disposed of\ndeath will best be seen in connexion with his physical philosophy.\nPain he encountered by emphasising, or rather immensely exaggerating,\nthe mind\u2019s power of annulling external sensation by concentrating its\nwhole attention on remembered or anticipated pleasures, or else on the\ncertainty that present suffering must come to an end, and to a more\nspeedy end in proportion to its greater severity. We are to hold a\nfire in our hand, partly by thinking of the frosty Caucasus, partly by\nthe comforting reflection that the pain of a burn, being intense, will\nnot be of long duration; while, at worst, like the Stoics, we have the\nresource of suicide as a last refuge from intolerable suffering.[140]\n\nWith the Epicurean theory of Justice, the distortion, already\nsufficiently obvious, is carried still further; although we must\nfrankly admit that it includes some _aper\u00e7us_ strikingly in advance of\nall that had hitherto been written on the subject. Justice, according\nto our philosopher, is neither an internal balance of the soul\u2019s\nfaculties, nor a rule imposed by the will of the stronger, but a\nmutual agreement to abstain from aggressions, varying from time to\ntime with the varying interests of society, and always determined by\nconsiderations of general utility.[141] This is excellent: we miss,\nindeed, the Stoic idea of a common humanity, embracing, underlying, and\ntranscending all particular contracts; but we have, in exchange, the\nidea of a general interest equivalent to the sum of private interests,\ntogether with the means necessary for their joint preservation; and\nwe have also the form under which the notion of justice originates,\nthough not the measure of its ultimate expansion, which is regard for\nthe general interest, even when we are not bound by any contract to\nobserve it. But when we go on to ask why contracts should be adhered\nto, Epicurus has no reason to offer beyond dread of punishment. His\nwords, as translated by Mr. Wallace, are:\u2014\u2018Injustice is not in itself\na bad thing, but only in the fear arising from anxiety on the part of\nthe wrong-doer that he will not always escape punishment.\u2019[142] This\nwas evidently meant for a direct contradiction of Plato\u2019s assertion,\nthat, apart from its penal consequences, injustice is a disease of the\nsoul, involving more mischief to the perpetrator than to the victim.\nMr. Wallace, however, takes a different view of his author\u2019s meaning.\nAccording to him,\n\n If we interpret this doctrine, after the example of some of the\n ancients, to mean that any wrong-doing would be innocent and good,\n supposing it escaped detection, we shall probably be misconstruing\n Epicurus. What he seems to allude to is rather the case of strictly\n legal enactments, where, previously to law, the action need not\n have been particularly moral or immoral; where, in fact, the common\n agreement has established a rule which is not completely in harmony\n with the \u2018justice of nature.\u2019 In short, Epicurus is protesting against\n the conception of injustice, which makes it consist in disobedience\n to political and social rules, imposed and enforced by public and\n authoritative sanctions. He is protesting, in other words, against the\n claims of the State upon the citizens for their complete obedience;\n against the old ideas of the divine sanctity and majesty of law as\n law; against theories like that maintained by contemporaries of\n Socrates, that there could be no such thing as an unjust law.[143]\n\nEpicurus was assuredly not a master of language, but had he meant all\nthat is here put into his mouth, he would hardly have been at a loss\nfor words to say it. Remembering that the \u039a\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1\u03b9 constituted a\nsort of creed drawn up by the master himself for his disciples to learn\nby heart,[144] and that the incriminated passage is one of the articles\nin that creed, we need only look at the context to make certain that\nit has been entirely misread by his apologist.[145] In the three\npreceding articles, we are told that justice is by nature a contract\nfor the prevention of aggressions, that it does not exist among animals\nwhich are unable, nor among tribes of men which are either unable\nor unwilling to enter into such an agreement, and\u2014with reiterated\nemphasis\u2014that, apart from contracts, it has no original existence (o\u1f50\u03ba\n\u1f26\u03bd \u03c4\u1f76 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019 \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b7). There is nothing at all about a true\nas distinguished from a false justice; there is no allusion whatever\nto the theories of any \u2018contemporaries of Socrates;\u2019 the polemic\nreference, if any, is to Plato, and to Plato alone. Then comes the\ndeclaration quoted above, to the effect that injustice is not an evil\nin itself, but only an evil through the dread of punishment which it\nproduces. Now, by injustice, Epicurus must simply mean the opposite\nof what he defined justice to be in the preceding paragraph\u2014that\nis, a breach of the agreement not to hurt one another (\u03bc\u1f74 \u03b2\u03bb\u03ac\u03c0\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\n\u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u03ae\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2). The authority of the State is evidently conceived, not as\nsuperseding, but as enforcing agreements. The succeeding article still\nfurther confirms the view rejected by Mr. Wallace. Epicurus tells us\nthat no man who stealthily evades the contract to abstain from mutual\naggressions can be sure of escaping detection. This is evidently added\nto show that, apart from any mystical sanctions, fear of punishment\nis quite enough to deter a prudent man from committing crimes. And we\ncan see that no other deterrent was recognised by Lucretius, when,\nin evident reference to his master\u2019s words, he mentions the fears of\nthose who offend\u2014not against mere conventional rules, but against human\nrights in general\u2014as the great safeguard of justice.[146]\n\nWe may, indeed, fairly ask what guarantee against wrong-doing of any\nkind could be supplied by a system which made the supreme good of each\nindividual consist in his immunity from pain and fear, except that very\npain or fear which he was above all things to avoid? The wise man might\nreasonably give his assent to enactments intended for the common good\nof all men, including himself among the number; but when his concrete\ninterest as a private citizen came into collision with his abstract\ninterests as a social unit, one does not see how the quarrel was to be\ndecided on Epicurean principles, except by striking a balance between\nthe pains respectively resulting from justice and injustice. Here,\nEpicurus, in his anxiety to show that hedonism, rightly understood, led\nto the same results as the accepted systems of morality, over-estimated\nthe policy of honesty. There are cases in which the wrong-doer\nmay count on immunity from danger with more confidence than when\nentering on such ordinary enterprises as a sea-voyage or a commercial\nspeculation; there are even cases where a single crime might free him\nfrom what else would be a lifelong dread. And, at worst, he can fall\nback on the Epicurean arguments proving that neither physical pain nor\ndeath is to be feared, while the threats of divine vengeance are a\nbaseless dream.[147]\n\nThe radical selfishness of Epicureanism comes out still more\ndistinctly in its attitude towards political activity. Not only does\nit systematically discourage mere personal ambition\u2014the desire of\npossessing political power for the furtherance of one\u2019s own ends\u2014but\nit passes a like condemnation on disinterested efforts to improve the\ncondition of the people by legislation; while the general rule laid\ndown for the wise man in his capacity of citizen is passive obedience\nto the established authorities, to be departed from only when the\nexigencies of self-defence require it. On this Mr. Wallace observes\nthat \u2018political life, which in all ages has been impossible for those\nwho had not wealth, and who were unwilling to mix themselves with\nvile and impure associates, was not to the mind of Epicurus.\u2019[148]\nNo authority is quoted to prove that the abstention recommended by\nEpicurus was dictated by purist sentiments of any kind; nor can we\nreadily admit that it is impossible to record a vote, to canvass at an\nelection, or even to address a public meeting, without fulfilling one\nor other of the conditions specified by Mr. Wallace; and we know by the\nexample of Littr\u00e9 that it is possible for a poor man to take a rather\nprominent part in public life, without the slightest sacrifice of\npersonal dignity.[149] It must also be remembered that Epicurus was not\nspeaking for himself alone; he was giving practical advice to all whom\nit might concern\u2014advice of which he thought, _aeque pauperibus prodest,\nlocupletibus aeque_; so that when Mr. Wallace adds that, \u2018above all, it\nis not the business of a philosopher to become a political partisan,\nand spend his life in an atmosphere of avaricious and malignant\npassions,\u2019[150] we must observe that Epicureanism was not designed to\nmake philosophers, but perfect men. The real question is whether it\nwould serve the public interest were all who endeavour to shape their\nlives by the precepts of philosophy to withdraw themselves entirely\nfrom participation in the affairs of their country. And, having regard\nto the general character of the system now under consideration, we\nmay not uncharitably surmise that the motive for abstention which it\nsupplied was selfish love of ease far more than unwillingness to be\nmixed up with the dirty work of politics.\n\nEpicureanism allotted a far larger place to friendship than to all\nthe other social virtues put together; and the disciple was taught to\nlook to it not only for the satisfaction of his altruistic impulses,\nbut for the crowning happiness of his life. The egoistic basis of the\nsystem was, indeed, made sufficiently prominent even here; utility\nand pleasure, which Aristotle had excluded from the notion of true\nfriendship, being declared its proper ends. All the conditions of a\ndisinterested attachment were, however, brought back by a circuitous\nprocess. It was argued that the full value of friendship could not\nbe reaped except by those whose affection for each other went to\nthe extent of complete self-devotion; but the Epicureans were less\nsuccessful in showing how this happy condition could be realised\nconsistently with the study of his own interest by each individual.\nAs a matter of fact, it was realised; and the members of this school\nbecame remarkable, above all others, for the tenderness and fidelity\nof their personal attachments. But we may suspect that formal precepts\nhad little to do with the result. Estrangement from the popular creed,\nwhen still uncommon, has always a tendency to draw the dissidents\ntogether;[151] and where other ties, whether religious, domestic,\nor patriotic, are neglected, the ordinary instincts of human nature\nare likely to show themselves with all the more energy in the only\nremaining form of union. Moreover, the cheerful, contented, abstemious,\nunambitious characters who would be the most readily attracted to the\nEpicurean brotherhood supplied the very materials that most readily\nunite in placid and enduring attachments. A tolerably strict standard\nof orthodoxy provided against theoretical dissensions: nor were the\nnew converts likely to possess either daring or originality enough to\nexcite controversies where they did not already exist.\n\n\nIV.\n\nAfter eliminating all the sources of misery due to folly and vice,\nEpicurus had still to deal with what, in his opinion, were the most\nformidable obstacles to human happiness, dread of the divine anger\nand dread of death, either in itself, or as the entrance on another\nlife. To meet these, he compiled, for we can hardly say constructed,\nan elaborate system of physical philosophy, having for its object to\nshow that Nature is entirely governed by mechanical causes, and that\nthe soul perishes with the body. We have already mentioned that for\nscience as such and apart from its ethical applications he neither\ncared nor pretended to care in the least. It seems, therefore, rather\nsurprising that he could not manage, like the Sceptics before him,\nto get rid of supernaturalism by a somewhat more expeditious method.\nThe explanation seems to be that to give some account of natural\nphenomena had become, in his time, a necessity for every one aspiring\nto found a philosophical system. A brilliant example had been set\nby Plato and Aristotle, of whom the former, too, had apparently\nyielded to the popular demand rather than followed the bent of his\nown genius, in turning aside from ethics to physics; and Zeno had\nsimilarly included the whole of knowledge in his teaching. The old\nGreek curiosity respecting the causes of things was still alive; and a\nsimilar curiosity was doubtless awakening among those populations to\nwhom Greek civilisation had been carried by colonisation, commerce,\nand conquest. Now, those scientific speculations are always the most\npopular which can be shown to have some bearing on religious belief,\neither in the way of confirmation or of opposition, according as\nfaith or doubt happens to be most in the ascendent. Fifty years ago,\namong ourselves, no work on natural philosophy could hope for a large\ncirculation unless it was filled with teleological applications. At\npresent, liberal opinions are gaining ground; and those treatises are\nmost eagerly studied which tend to prove that everything in Nature\ncan be best explained through the agency of mechanical causation. At\nneither period is it the facts themselves which have excited most\nattention, but their possible bearing on our own interests. Among the\ncontemporaries of Epicurus, the two currents of thought that in more\nrecent times have enjoyed an alternate triumph, seem to have co-existed\nas forces of about equal strength. The old superstitions were rejected\nby all thinking men; and the only question was by what new faith they\nshould be replaced. Poets and philosophers had alike laboured to bring\nabout a religious reformation by exhibiting the popular mythology in\nits grotesque deformity, and by constructing systems in which pure\nmonotheism was more or less distinctly proclaimed. But it suited the\npurpose, perhaps it gratified the vanity of Epicurus to talk as if the\nwork of deliverance still remained to be done, as if men were still\ngroaning under the incubus of superstitions which he alone could teach\nthem to shake off. He seems, indeed, to have confounded the old and\nthe new faiths under a common opprobrium, and to have assumed that the\npopular religion was mainly supported by Stoic arguments, or that the\nStoic optimism was not less productive of superstitious terrors than\nthe gloomy polytheism which it was designed to supersede.[152]\n\nAgain, while attacking the belief in human immortality, Epicurus\nseems to direct his blows against the metaphysical reasonings of\nPlato,[153] as well as against the indistinct forebodings of primitive\nimagination. The consequences of this two-edged polemic are very\nremarkable. In reading Lucretius, we are surprised at the total absence\nof criticisms like those brought to bear on Greek mythology with such\nformidable effect, first by Plato and, long afterwards, by Lucian.\nThere is a much more modern tone about his invectives, and they seem\naimed at an enemy familiar to ourselves. One would suppose that the\nadvent of Catholicism had been revealed in a prophetic vision to\nthe poet, and that this, rather than the religion of his own times,\nwas the object of his wrath and dread; or else that some child of\nthe Renaissance was seeking for a freer utterance of his own revolt\nagainst all theology, under the disguise of a dead language and of\na warfare with long-discredited gods. For this reason, Christians\nhave always regarded him, with perfect justice, as a dangerous enemy;\nwhile rationalists of the fiercer type have accepted his splendid\ndenunciations as the appropriate expression of their own most cherished\nfeelings.\n\nThe explanation of this anomaly is, we believe, to be found in the\nfact that Catholicism did, to a great extent, actually spring from\na continuation of those widely different tendencies which Epicurus\nconfounded in a common assault. It had an intellectual basis in the\nPlatonic and Stoic philosophies, and a popular basis in the revival\nof those manifold superstitions which, underlying the brilliant\ncivilisations of Greece and Rome, were always ready to break out with\nrenewed violence when their restraining pressure was removed. The\nrevival of which we speak was powerfully aided from without. The same\nmovement that was carrying Hellenic culture into Asia was bringing\nOriental delusions by a sort of back current into the Western world.\nNor was this all. The relaxation of all political bonds, together with\nthe indifference of the educated classes, besides allowing a rank\nundergrowth of popular beliefs to spring up unchecked, surrendered the\nregulation of those beliefs into the hands of a profession which it\nhad hitherto been the policy of every ancient republic to keep under\nrigid restraint\u2014the accredited or informal ministers of religion.[154]\nNow, the chief characteristic of a priestly order has always and\neverywhere been insatiable avarice. When forbidden to acquire\nwealth in their individual capacity, they grasp at it all the more\neagerly in their corporate capacity. And, as the Epicureans probably\nperceived, there is no engine which they can use so effectually for\nthe gratification of this passion as the belief in a future life. What\nthey have to tell about this is often described by themselves and their\nsupporters as a message of joy to the weary and afflicted. But under\ntheir treatment it is very far from being a consolatory belief. Dark\nshades and lurid lights predominate considerably in their pictures of\nthe world beyond the grave; and here, as we shall presently show, they\nare aided by an irresistible instinct of human nature. On this subject,\nalso, they can speak with unlimited confidence; for, while their other\nstatements about the supernatural are liable to be contradicted by\nexperience, the abode of souls is a bourne from which no traveller\nreturns to disprove the accuracy of their statements.\n\nThat such a tendency was at work some time before the age of Epicurus\nis shown by the following passage from Plato\u2019s _Republic_:\u2014\n\n Mendicant prophets go to rich men\u2019s doors and persuade them that they\n have a power committed to them of making atonement for their sins or\n those of their fathers by sacrifices or charms.... And they produce a\n host of books ... according to which they perform their ritual, and\n persuade not only individuals but whole cities, that expiations and\n atonements for sin may be made by sacrifices and amusements which fill\n a vacant hour,[155] and are equally at the service of the living and\n the dead; the latter sort they call mysteries, and they redeem us from\n the pains of hell, but if we neglect them no one knows what awaits\n us.[156]\n\nLet us now pass over fourteen centuries and see to what results the\ndoctrine taught by Plato himself led when it had entered into an\nalliance with the superstitions which he denounced. Our illustration\nshall be taken from a sainted hero of the Catholic Church. In a sermon\npreached before Pope Nicholas II. at Arezzo, the famous Hildebrand,\nafterwards Gregory VII., relates the following story:\u2014\n\n In one of the provinces of Germany there died, about ten years\n ago, a certain count, who had been rich and powerful, and, what is\n astonishing for one of that class, he was, according to the judgment\n of man, pure in faith and innocent in his life. Some time after his\n death, a holy man descended in spirit to hell, and beheld the count\n standing on the topmost rung of a ladder. He tells us that this ladder\n stood unconsumed amid the crackling flames around; and that it had\n been placed there to receive the family of the aforesaid count. There\n was, moreover, the black and frightful abyss out of which rose the\n fatal ladder. It was so ordered that the last comer took his stand at\n the top of the ladder, and when the rest of the family arrived he went\n down one step, and all below him did likewise.\n\n As the last of the same family who died came and took his place,\n age after age, on this ladder, it followed inevitably that they all\n successively reached the depth of hell. The holy man who beheld this\n thing, asked the reason of this terrible damnation, and especially how\n it was that the seigneur whom he had known and who had lived a life of\n justice and well-doing should be thus punished. And he heard a voice\n saying, \u2018It is because of certain lands belonging to the church of\n Metz, which were taken from the blessed Stephen by one of this man\u2019s\n ancestors, from whom he was the tenth in descent, and for this cause\n all these men have sinned by the same avarice and are subjected to the\n same punishment in eternal fire.\u2019[157]\n\nIn view of such facts as these, we cannot blame the Epicureans if\nthey regarded the doctrine of future retribution as anything but a\nconsolatory or ennobling belief, and if they deemed that to extirpate\nit was to cut out a mischievous delusion by the roots:\u2014\n\n    Et merito: nam si certain finem esse viderent\n    Aerumnarum homines aliqua ratione valerent\n    Relligionibus, atque minis obsistere vatum:\n    Nunc ratio nulla \u2018st restandi, nulla facultas,\n    Aeternas quoniam poenas in morte timendum.\u2019[158]\n\nAnd it is no wonder that the words of their great poet should read like\na prophetic exposure of the terrors with which the religious revival,\nbased on a coalition of philosophy and superstition, was shortly to\noverspread the whole horizon of human life.\n\nSo strong, however, was the theological reaction against Greek\nrationalism that Epicurus himself came under its influence. Instead of\ndenying the existence of the gods altogether, or leaving it uncertain\nlike Protagoras, he asserted it in the most emphatic manner. Their\ninterference with Nature was all that he cared to dispute. The egoistic\ncharacter of his whole system comes out once more in his conception\nof them as beings too much absorbed in their own placid enjoyments to\nbe troubled with the work of creation and providence. He was, indeed,\nonly repeating aloud what had long been whispered in the free-thinking\ncircles of Athenian society. That the gods were indifferent to human\ninterests was a heresy indignantly denounced by Aeschylus,[159]\nmaintained by Aristod\u00eamus, the friend of Socrates, and singled out\nas a fit subject for punishment by Plato. Nor was the theology of\nAristotle\u2019s _Metaphysics_ practically distinguishable from such a\ndoctrine. Although essential to the continued existence of the cosmos,\nconsidered as a system of movements, the Prime Mover communicates the\nrequired impulse by the mere fact of his existence, and apparently\nwithout any consciousness of the effect he is producing. Active\nbeneficence had, in truth, even less to do with the ideal of Aristotle\nthan with the ideal of Epicurus, and each philosopher constructed a god\nafter his own image; the one absorbed in perpetual thought, the other,\nor more properly the others, in perpetual enjoyment; for the Epicurean\ndeities were necessarily conceived as a plurality, that they might not\nbe without the pleasure of friendly conversation. Nevertheless, the\npart assigned by Aristotle to his god permitted him to offer a much\nstronger proof of the divine existence and attributes than was possible\nto Epicurus, who had nothing better to adduce than the universal belief\nof mankind,\u2014an argument obviously proving too much, since it told,\nif anything, more powerfully for the interference than for the bare\nreality of supernatural agents.\n\nOur philosopher appears to more advantage as a critic than as a\nreligious dogmatist. He meets the Stoic belief in Providence by\npointing out the undeniable prevalence of evils which omnipotent\nbenevolence could not be supposed to tolerate; the Stoic optimism, with\nits doctrine, still a popular one, that all things were created for\nthe good of man, by a reference to the glaring defects which, on that\nhypothesis, would vitiate the arrangements of Nature; the Stoic appeal\nto omens and prophecies by showing the purely accidental character\nof their fulfilment.[160] But he trusts most of all to a radically\ndifferent explanation of the world, an explanation which everywhere\nsubstitutes mechanical causation for design. Only one among the older\nsystems\u2014the atomism of Democritus\u2014had consistently carried out such a\nconception of Nature, and this, accordingly, Epicurus adopts in its\nmain outlines.\n\n\nV.\n\nIt is generally assumed by the German critics that the atomic theory\nwas peculiarly fitted to serve as a basis for the individualistic\nethics of Epicureanism. To this we can hardly agree. The insignificance\nand powerlessness of the atoms, except when aggregated together in\nenormous numbers, would seem to be naturally more favourable to a\nsystem where the community went for everything and the individual\nfor nothing; nor does the general acceptance of atomism by modern\nscience seem to be accompanied by any relaxation of the social\nsentiment in its professors. Had the Stoics followed Democritus and\nEpicurus Heracleitus\u2014at least a conceivable hypothesis\u2014some equally\ncogent reason would doubtless have been forthcoming to indicate the\nappropriateness of their choice.[161] As it is, we have no evidence\nthat Epicurus saw anything more in the atomic theory than a convenient\nexplanation of the world on purely mechanical principles.\n\nThe division of matter into minute and indestructible particles served\nadmirably to account for the gradual formation and disappearance of\nbodies without necessitating the help of a creator. But the infinities\nassumed as a condition of atomism were of even greater importance.\nWhere time and space are unlimited, the quantity of matter must be\nequally unlimited, otherwise, being composed of loose particles, it\nwould long since have been dissipated and lost in the surrounding\nvoid. Now, given infinite time and space, and infinite atoms\ncapable of combining with one another in various ways, all possible\ncombinations must already have been tried, not once or twice, but\ninfinitely often. Of such combinations, that which best fulfils the\nconditions of mechanical stability will last the longest, and, without\nbeing designed, will present all the characters of design. And this,\naccording to Epicurus, is how the actual frame of things comes to be\nwhat it is. Nor was it only the world as a whole that he explained by\nthe theory of a single happy accident occurring after a multitude of\nfortuitous experiments. The same process repeats itself on a smaller\nscale in the production of particular compounds. All sorts of living\nbodies were originally throw up from the earth\u2019s bosom, but many\nof them instantly perished, not being provided with the means of\nnutrition, propagation, or self-defence. In like manner we are enabled\nto recall a particular thought at pleasure, because innumerable images\nare continually passing through the mind, none of which comes into the\nforeground of consciousness until attention is fixed on it; though how\nwe come to distinguish it from the rest is not explained. So also, only\nthose societies survived and became civilised where contracts were\nfaithfully observed. All kinds of wild beasts have at different times\nbeen employed in war, just as horses and elephants are now, but on\ntrial were found unmanageable and given up.[162]\n\nIt will be seen that what has been singled out as an anticipation of\nthe Darwinian theory was only one application of a very comprehensive\nmethod for eliminating design from the universe. But of what is most\noriginal and essential in Darwinism, that is, the modifiability of\nspecific forms by the summing up of spontaneous variations in a given\ndirection, the Epicureans had not the slightest suspicion. And wherever\nthey or their master have, in other respects, made some approach to\nthe truths of modern science, it may fairly be explained on their own\nprinciple as a single lucky guess out of many false guesses.\n\nThe modern doctrine of evolution, while relying largely on the\nfertility of multiplied chances, is not obliged to assume such\nan enormous number of simultaneous coincidences as Epicurus. The\nascription of certain definite attractions and repulsions to the\nultimate particles of matter would alone restrict their possible modes\nof aggregation within comparatively narrow limits. Then, again, the\nworld seems to have been built up by successive stages, at each of\nwhich some new force or combination of forces came into play, a firm\nbasis having been already secured for whatever variations they were\ncapable of producing. Thus the solar system is a state of equilibrium\nresulting from the action of two very simple forces, gravitation and\nheat. On the surface of the earth, cohesion and chemical affinity have\nbeen superadded. When a fresh equilibrium had resulted from their\njoint energy, the more complex conditions of life found free scope for\ntheir exercise. The transformations of living species were similarly\neffected by variation on variation. And, finally, in one species, the\nsatisfaction of its animal wants set free those more refined impulses\nby which, after many experiments, civilisation has been built up.\nObviously the total sum of adaptations necessary to constitute our\nactual world will have the probabilities of its occurrence enormously\nincreased if we suppose the more general conditions to be established\nprior to, and in complete independence of, the less general, instead of\nlimiting ourselves, like the ancient atomists, to one vast simultaneous\nshuffle of all the material and dynamical elements involved.\n\nReturning to Epicurus, we have next to consider how he obtained the\nvarious motions required to bring his atoms into those infinite\ncombinations of which our world is only the most recent. The\nconception of matter naturally endowed with capacities for moving in\nall directions indifferently was unknown to ancient physics, as was\nalso that of mutual attraction and repulsion. Democritus supposed\nthat the atoms all gravitated downward through infinite space, but\nwith different velocities, so that the lighter were perpetually\novertaken and driven upwards by the heavier, the result of these\ncollisions and pressures being a vortex whence the world as we see\nit has proceeded.[163] While the atomism of Democritus was, as a\ntheory of matter, the greatest contribution ever made to physical\nscience by pure speculation, as a theory of motion it was open to\nat least three insuperable objections. Passing over the difficulty\nof a perpetual movement through space in one direction only, there\nremained the self-contradictory assumption that an infinite number\nof atoms all moving together in that one direction could find any\nunoccupied space to fall into.[164] Secondly, astronomical discoveries,\nestablishing as they did the sphericity of the earth, had for ever\ndisproved the crude theory that unsupported bodies fall downward\nin parallel straight lines. Even granting that the astronomers, in\nthe absence of complete empirical verification, could not prove\ntheir whole contention, they could at any rate prove enough of it to\ndestroy the notion of parallel descent; for the varying elevation of\nthe pole-star demonstrated the curvature of the earth\u2019s surface so\nfar as it was accessible to observation, thus showing that, within\nthe limits of experience, gravitation acted along convergent lines.\nFinally, Aristotle had pointed out that the observed differences in\nthe velocity of falling bodies were due to the atmospheric resistance,\nand that, consequently, they would all move at the same rate in such\nan absolute vacuum as atomism assumed.[165] Of these objections\nEpicurus ignored the first two, except, apparently, to the extent\nof refusing to believe in the antipodes. The third he acknowledged,\nand set himself to evade it by a hypothesis striking at the root of\nall scientific reasoning. The atoms, he tells us, suffer a slight\ndeflection from the line of perpendicular descent, sufficient to bring\nthem into collision with one another; and from this collision proceeds\nthe variety of movement necessary to throw them into all sorts of\naccidental combinations. Our own free will, says Lucretius, furnishes\nan example of such a deflection whenever we swerve aside from the\ndirection in which an original impulse is carrying us.[166] That the\nirregularity thus introduced into Nature interfered with the law of\nuniversal causation was an additional recommendation of it in the eyes\nof Epicurus, who, as we have already mentioned, hated the physical\nnecessity of the philosophers even more than he hated the watchful\ninterfering providence of the theologians. But, apparently, neither he\nnor his disciples saw that in discarding the invariable sequence of\nphenomena, they annulled, to the same extent, the possibility of human\nforesight and adaptation of means to ends. There was no reason why the\ndeflection, having once occurred, should not be repeated infinitely\noften, each time producing effects of incalculable extent. And a\nfurther inconsequence of the system is that it afterwards accounts for\nhuman choice by a mechanism which has nothing to do with free-will.[167]\n\nThe Epicurean cosmology need not delay us long. It is completely\nindependent of the atomic theory, which had only been introduced to\nexplain the indestructibility of matter, and, later on, the mechanism\nof sensation. In describing how the world was first formed, Epicurus\nfalls back on the old Ionian meteorology. He assumes the existence of\nmatter in different states of diffusion, and segregates fluid from\nsolid, light from heavy, hot from cold, by the familiar device of a\nrapid vortical movement.[168] For the rest, as we have already noticed,\nEpicurus gives an impartial welcome to the most conflicting theories\nof his predecessors, provided only that they dispense with the aid of\nsupernatural intervention; as will be seen by the following summary,\nwhich we quote from Zeller:\u2014\n\n Possibly the world may move, and possibly it may be at rest. Possibly\n it may be round, or else it may be triangular, or have any other\n shape. Possibly the sun and the stars may be extinguished at setting,\n and be lighted afresh at their rising: it is, however, equally\n possible that they may only disappear under the earth and reappear\n again, or that their rising and setting is due to yet other causes.\n Possibly the waxing and waning of the moon may be caused by the moon\u2019s\n revolving; or it may be due to the atmospheric change, or to an actual\n increase or decrease in the moon\u2019s size, or to some other cause.\n Possibly the moon may shine with borrowed light, or it may shine with\n its own, experience supplying us with instances of bodies which give\n their own light, and of others which have their light borrowed. From\n these and such like statements it appears that questions of natural\n science in themselves have no value for Epicurus. Whilst granting that\n only one natural explanation of phenomena is generally possible, yet\n in any particular case it is perfectly indifferent which explanation\n is adopted.[169]\n\nThis was the creed professed by \u2018the great scientific school of\nantiquity,\u2019 and this was its way of protesting \u2018against the contempt of\nphysics which prevailed\u2019 among the Stoics!\n\nSo far as he can be said to have studied science at all, the motive of\nEpicurus was hatred for religion far more than love for natural law.\nHe seems, indeed, to have preserved that aversion for Nature which is\nso characteristic of the earlier Greek Humanists. He seems to have\nimagined that by refusing to tie himself down to any one explanation\nof external phenomena, he could diminish their hold over the mind\nof man. For when he departs from his usual attitude of suspense and\nreserve, it is to declare dogmatically that the heavenly bodies are\nno larger than they appear to our senses, and perhaps smaller than\nthey sometimes appear.[170] The only arguments adduced on behalf of\nthis outrageous assertion were that if their superficial extension\nwas altered by transmission, their colour would be altered to a still\ngreater degree; and the alleged fact that flames look the same size at\nall distances.[171] It is evident that neither Epicurus nor Lucretius,\nwho, as usual, transcribes him with perfect good faith, could ever\nhave looked at one lamp-flame through another, or they would have seen\nthat the laws of linear perspective are not suspended in the case of\nself-luminous bodies\u2014a fact which does not tell much for that accurate\nobservation supposed to have been fostered by their philosophy.[172]\nThe truth is, that Epicurus disliked the oppressive notion of a sun\nseveral times larger than the earth, and was determined not to tolerate\nit, be the consequences to fact and logic what they might.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe Epicurean philosophy of external Nature was used as an instrument\nfor destroying the uncomfortable belief in Divine Providence. The\nEpicurean philosophy of mind was used to destroy the still more\nuncomfortable belief in man\u2019s immortality. As opinions then stood, the\ntask was a comparatively easy one. In our discussion of Stoicism, we\nobserved that the spiritualism of Plato and Aristotle was far before\ntheir age, and was not accepted or even understood by their countrymen\nfor a long time to come. Moreover, Aristotle did not agree with his\nmaster in thinking that the personal eternity of the soul followed\nfrom its immateriality. The belief of the Stoics in a prolongation of\nindividual existence until the destruction of all created things by\nfire, was, even in that very limited form, inconsistent with their\navowed materialism, and had absolutely no influence on their practical\nconvictions. Thus Plato\u2019s arguments were alone worth considering. For\nEpicurus, the whole question was virtually settled by the principle,\nwhich he held in common with the Stoics, that nothing exists but\nmatter, its attributes, and its relations. He accepted, it is true,\nthe duality of soul and body, agreeing, in this respect also, with the\nStoics and the earlier physicists; and the familiar antithesis of flesh\nand spirit is a survival of his favourite phraseology;[173] but this\nvery term \u2018flesh\u2019 was employed to cover the assumption that the body\nto which he applied it differed not in substance but in composition\nfrom its animating principle. The latter, a rather complex aggregate,\nconsists proximately of four distinct elements, imagined, apparently,\nfor the purpose of explaining its various functions, and, in the last\nanalysis, of very fine and mobile atoms.[174] When so much had been\ngranted, it naturally followed that the soul was only held together by\nthe body, and was immediately dissolved on being separated from it\u2014a\nconclusion still further strengthened by the manifest dependence of\npsychic on corporeal activities throughout the period of their joint\nexistence. Thus all terrors arising from the apprehension of future\ntorments were summarily dispelled.\n\nThe simple dread of death, considered as a final annihilation of\nour existence, remained to be dealt with. There was no part of his\nphilosophy on which Epicurus laid so much stress; he regarded it as\nsetting the seal on those convictions, a firm grasp of which was\nessential to the security of human happiness. Nothing else seemed\ndifficult, if once the worst enemy of our tranquillity had been\novercome. His argument is summed up in the concise formula: when we\nare, death is not; when death is, we are not; therefore death is\nnothing to us.[175] The pleasures of life will be no loss, for we shall\nnot feel the want of them. The sorrow of our dearest friends will be\nindifferent to us in the absence of all consciousness whatever. To the\nconsideration that, however calmly we may face our own annihilation,\nthe loss of those whom we love remains as terrible as ever, Lucretius\nreplies that we need not mourn for them, since they do not feel any\npain at their own extinction.[176]\n\nThere must, one would suppose, be some force in the Epicurean\nphilosophy of death, for it has been endorsed by no less a thinker\nand observer than Shakspeare. To make the great dramatist responsible\nfor every opinion uttered by one or other of his characters would, of\ncourse, be absurd; but when we find personages so different in other\nrespects as Claudio, Hamlet, and Macbeth, agreeing in the sentiment\nthat, apart from the prospect of a future judgment, there is nothing to\nappal us in the thought of death, we cannot avoid the inference that he\nis here making them the mouthpiece of his own convictions, even, as in\nHamlet\u2019s famous soliloquy, at the expense of every dramatic propriety.\nNevertheless, the answer of humanity to such sophisms will always\nbe that of Homer\u2019s Achilles, \u2018\u03bc\u1f74 \u03b4\u03ae \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03cd\u03b4\u03b1\u2019\u2014\u2018Talk\nme not fair of death!\u2019 A very simple process of reasoning will make\nthis clear. The love of life necessarily involves a constant use\nof precautions against its loss. The certainty of death means the\ncertainty that these precautions shall one day prove unavailing; the\nconsciousness of its near approach means the consciousness that they\nhave actually failed. In both cases the result must be a sense of\nbaffled or arrested effort, more or less feeble when it is imagined,\nmore or less acute when it it is realised. But this diversion of the\nconscious energies from their accustomed channel, this turning back of\nthe feelings on themselves, constitutes the essence of all emotion;\nand where the object of the arrested energies was to avert a danger,\nit constitutes the emotion of fear. Thus, by an inevitable law, the\nlove of life has for its reverse side the dread of death. Now the love\nof life is guaranteed by the survival of the fittest; it must last\nas long as the human race, for without it the race could not last\nat all. If, as Epicurus urged, the supreme desirability of pleasure\nis proved by its being the universal object of pursuit among all\nspecies of animals,[177] the supreme hatefulness of death is proved by\nan analogous experience; and we may be sure that, even if pessimism\nbecame the accepted faith, the darkened prospect would lead to no\nrelaxation of our grasp on life. A similar mode of reasoning applies to\nthe sorrow and anguish, _mortis comites et funeris atri_, from which\nthe benevolent Roman poet would fain relieve us. For, among a social\nspecies, the instinct for preserving others is second only to the\ninstinct of self-preservation, and frequently rises superior to it.\nAccordingly, the loss of those whom we love causes, and must always\ncause us, a double distress. There is, first, the simple pain due to\nthe eternal loss of their society, a pain of which Lucretius takes no\naccount. And, secondly, there is the arrest of all helpful activity on\ntheir behalf, the continual impulse to do something for them, coupled\nwith the chilling consciousness that it is too late, that nothing more\ncan be done. So strong, indeed, is this latter feeling that it often\ncauses the loss of those whose existence was a burden to themselves\nand others, to be keenly felt, if only the survivors were accustomed,\nas a matter of duty, to care for them and to struggle against the\ndisease from which they suffered. Philosophy may help to fill up the\nblanks thus created, by directing our thoughts to objects of perennial\ninterest, and she may legitimately discourage the affectation or the\nfostering of affliction; but the blanks themselves she cannot explain\naway, without forfeiting all claim on our allegiance as the ultimate\nand incorruptible arbitress of truth.\n\nWe are now in a position to understand how far Epicurus was justified\nin regarding the expectation of immortality as a source of dread\nrather than of consolation. In this respect also, the survival of\nthe fittest has determined that human nature shall not look forward\nwith satisfaction to the termination of its earthly existence. Were\nany race of men once persuaded that death is the passage to a happier\nworld, it would speedily be replaced by competitors holding a belief\nbetter adapted to the conditions of terrestrial duration. Hence,\npractically speaking, the effect of religious dogmas has been to make\ndeath rather more dreaded than it would have been without their aid;\nand, as already observed, their natural tendency has been powerfully\nstimulated by the cupidity of their professional expositors. The hope\nof heaven, to exist at all, must be checked by a considerably stronger\napprehension of hell. There is a saying in America that the immortality\nof the soul is too good to be true. We suspect that the immortality in\nwhich most religious Americans still believe hardly deserves such a\ncompliment; but it accurately expresses the incredulity with which a\ngenuine message of salvation would be received by most men; and this\nexplains why Universalism, with the few who have accepted it, is but\nthe transition stage to a total rejection of any life beyond the grave.\nNo doubt, in the first flush of fanaticism, the assurance of an easy\nadmission to paradise may do much to win acceptance for the religion\nwhich offers it; but when such a religion ceases to make new conquests,\nits followers must either modify their convictions, or die out under\nthe competition of others by whom mortal life is not held so cheap.\n\nWe must add, that while Epicurus was right in regarding the beliefs\nentertained about a future life as a source of painful anxiety,\nhe was only justified in this opinion by the deeper truth, which\nhe ignored, that they are simply the natural dread of death under\nanother form.[178] The most appalling pictures of damnation would,\ntaken by themselves, probably add but little to human misery. The\nalarming effect even of earthly punishments is found to depend on\ntheir certainty much more than on their severity; and the certainty\nof suffering what nobody has ever experienced must be small indeed.\nBesides, the class most interested in enlarging on the dark side\nof immortality are also interested in showing that its dangers may\nbe bought off at a comparatively trifling cost. What Epicurus said\nabout the inexorable fate of the physicists might here be turned\nagainst himself. He removed terrors which there was a possibility of\nexorcising, and substituted a prospect of annihilation whence there was\nno escape.[179]\n\nIt is, after all, very questionable whether human happiness would\nbe increased by suppressing the thought of death as something to be\nfeared. George Eliot, in her _Legend of Jubal_, certainly expresses\nthe contrary opinion.[180] The finest edge of enjoyment would be taken\noff if we forgot its essentially transitory character. The free man\nmay, in Spinoza\u2019s words, think of nothing less than of death; but he\ncannot prevent the sunken shadow from throwing all his thoughts of life\ninto higher and more luminous relief. The ideal enjoyment afforded by\nliterature would lose much of its zest were we to discard all sympathy\nwith the fears and sorrows on which our mortal condition has enabled it\nso largely to draw\u2014the _lacrimae rerum_, which Lucretius himself has\nturned to such admirable account. And the whole treasure of happiness\ndue to mutual affection must gain by our remembrance that the time\ngranted for its exercise is always limited, and may at any moment be\nbrought to an end\u2014or rather, such an effect might be looked for were\nthis remembrance more constantly present to our minds.\n\nLucretius dwells much on the dread of death as a source of vice and\ncrime. He tells us that men plunge into all sorts of mad distractions\nor unscrupulous schemes of avarice and ambition in their anxiety to\nescape either from its haunting presence, or from the poverty and\ndisrepute which they have learned to associate with it.[181] Critics\nare disposed to think that the poet, in his anxiety to make a point,\nis putting a wrong interpretation on the facts. Yet it should be\nremembered that Lucretius was a profound observer, and that his\nteaching, in this respect, may be heard repeated from London pulpits\nat the present day. The truth seems to be, not that he went too far,\nbut that he did not go far enough. What he decries as a spur to\nvicious energy is, in reality, a spur to all energy. Every passion,\ngood or bad, is compressed and intensified by the contracting limits\nof mortality; and the thought of death impels men either to wring the\nlast drop of enjoyment from their lives, or to take refuge from their\nperishing individualities in the relative endurance of collective\nenterprises and impersonal aims.\n\nLet none suppose that the foregoing remarks are meant either to express\nany sympathy with a cowardly shrinking from death, or to intimate\nthat the doctrine of evolution tends to reverse the noblest lessons\nof ancient wisdom. In holding that death is rightly regarded as an\nevil, and that it must always continue to be so regarded, we do not\nimply that it is necessarily the greatest of all evils for any given\nindividual. It is not, as Spinoza has shown, by arguing away our\nemotions, but by confronting them with still stronger emotions, that\nthey are, if necessary, to be overcome.[182] The social feelings may\nbe trusted to conquer the instinct of self-preservation, and, by a\nself-acting adjustment, to work with more intensity in proportion to\nthe strength of its resistance. The dearer our lives are to us, the\ngreater will be the glory of renouncing them, that others may be better\nsecured in the enjoyment of theirs. Aristotle is much truer, as well as\nmore human, than Epicurus, when he observes that \u2018the more completely\nvirtuous and happy a man is, the more will he be grieved to die; for to\nsuch a one life is worth most, and he will consciously be renouncing\nthe greatest goods, and that is grievous. Nevertheless, he remains\nbrave, nay, even the braver for that very reason, because he prefers\nthe glory of a warrior to every other good.\u2019[183] Nor need we fear that\na race of cowards will be the fittest to survive, when we remember what\nan advantage that state has in the struggle for existence, the lives of\nwhose citizens are most unrestrictedly held at its disposal. But their\ndevotion would be without merit and without meaning, were not the loss\nof existence felt to be an evil, and its prolongation cherished as a\ngain.\n\n\nVII.\n\nNext to its bearing on the question of immortality, the Epicurean\npsychology is most interesting as a contribution to the theory of\ncognition. Epicurus holds that all our knowledge is derived from\nexperience, and all our experience, directly or indirectly, from the\npresentations of sense. So far he says no more than would be admitted\nby the Stoics, by Aristotle, and indeed by every Greek philosopher\nexcept Plato. There is, therefore, no necessary connexion between\nhis views in this respect and his theory of ethics, since others had\ncombined the same views with a very different standard of action. It\nis in discussing the vexed question of what constitutes the ultimate\ncriterion of truth that he shows to most disadvantage in comparison\nwith the more intellectual schools. He seems to have considered that\nsensation supplies not only the matter but the form of knowledge; or\nrather, he seems to have missed the distinction between matter and\nform altogether. What the senses tell us, he says, is always true,\nalthough we may draw erroneous inferences from their statements.[184]\nBut this only amounts to the identical proposition that we feel what\nwe feel; for it cannot be pretended that the order of our sensations\ninvariably corresponds to the actual order of things in themselves.\nEven confining ourselves to individual sensations, or single groups of\nsensations, there are some that do not always correspond to the same\nobjective reality, and others that do not correspond to any reality\nat all; while, conversely, the same object produces a multitude of\ndifferent sensations according to the subjective conditions under which\nit affects us. To escape from this difficulty, Epicurus has recourse\nto a singularly crude theory of perception, borrowed from Empedocles\nand the older atomists. What we are conscious of is, in each instance,\nnot the object itself, but an image composed of fine atoms thrown off\nfrom the surfaces of bodies and brought into contact with the organs of\nsense. Our perception corresponds accurately to an external image, but\nthe image itself is often very unlike the object whence it originally\nproceeded. Sometimes it suffers a considerable change in travelling\nthrough the atmosphere. For instance, when a square tower, seen at a\ngreat distance, produces the impression of roundness, this is because\nthe sharp angles of its image have been rubbed off on the way to our\neyes. Sometimes the image continues to wander about after its original\nhas ceased to exist, and that is why the dead seem to revisit us in\nour dreams. And sometimes the images of different objects coalesce as\nthey are floating about, thus producing the appearance of impossible\nmonsters, such as centaurs and chimaeras.[185]\n\nIt was with the help of this theory that Epicurus explained and\ndefended the current belief in the existence of gods. The divine\ninhabitants of the _intermundia_, or empty spaces separating world\nfrom world, are, like all other beings, composed of atoms, and are\ncontinually throwing off fine images, some of which make their\nway unaltered to our earth and reveal themselves to the senses,\nparticularly during sleep, when we are most alive to the subtlest\nimpressions on our perceptive organs. With the usual irrationality of\na theologian, Epicurus remained blind to the fact that gods who were\nconstantly throwing off even the very thinnest films could not possibly\nsurvive through all eternity. Neither did he explain how images larger\nthan the pupil of the eye could pass through its aperture while\npreserving their original proportions unaltered.\n\nWe have seen how Epicurus erected the senses into ultimate arbiters\nof truth. By so doing, however, he only pushed the old difficulty a\nstep further back. Granting that our perceptions faithfully correspond\nto certain external images, how can we be sure that these images are\nthemselves copies of a solid and permanent reality? And how are we\nto determine the validity of general notions representing not some\nsingle object but entire classes of objects? The second question may\nbe most conveniently answered first. Epicurus holds that perception is\nonly a finer sort of sensation. General notions are material images\nof a very delicate texture formed, apparently, on the principle of\ncomposition-photographs by the coalescence of many individual images\nthrown off from objects possessing a greater or less degree of\nresemblance to one another.[186] Thought is produced by the contact of\nsuch images with the soul, itself, it will be remembered, a material\nsubstance.\n\nThe rules for distinguishing between truth and falsehood are given\nin the famous Epicurean Canon. On receiving an image into the mind,\nwe associate it with similar images formerly impressed on us by some\nreal object. If the association or anticipation (\u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03bb\u03b7\u03c8\u03b9\u03c2) is confirmed\nor not contradicted by subsequent experience, it is true; false, if\ncontradicted or not confirmed.[187] The stress laid on absence of\ncontradictory evidence illustrates the great part played by such\nnotions as possibility, negation, and freedom in the Epicurean system.\nIn ethics this class of conceptions is represented by painlessness,\nconceived first as the condition, and finally as the essence of\nhappiness; in physics by the infinite void, the _inane profundum_ of\nwhich Lucretius speaks with almost religious unction; and in logic by\nthe absence of contradiction considered as a proof of reality. Here,\nperhaps, we may detect the Parmenidean absolute under a new form; only,\nby a curious reversal, what Parmenides himself strove altogether to\nexpel from thought has become its supreme object and content.[188]\n\nThe Epicurean philosophy of life and mind is completed by a sketch\nof human progress from its earliest beginnings to the complete\nestablishment of civilisation. Here our principal authority is\nLucretius; and no part of his great poem has attracted so much\nattention and admiration in recent times as that in which he so vividly\nplaces before us the condition of primitive men with all its miseries,\nand the slow steps whereby family life, civil society, religion,\nindustry, and science arose out of the original chaos and war of all\nagainst each. But it seems likely that here, as elsewhere, Lucretius\ndid no more than copy and colour the outlines already traced by his\nmaster\u2019s hand.[189] How far Epicurus himself is to be credited with\nthis brilliant forecast of modern researches into the history of\ncivilisation, is a more difficult question. When we consider that\nthe most important parts of his philosophy were compiled from older\nsystems, and that the additions made by himself do not indicate any\ngreat capacity for original research, we are forced to conclude that,\nhere also, he is indebted to some authority whose name has not been\npreserved. The development of civilisation out of barbarism seems,\nindeed, to have been a standing doctrine of Greek Humanism, just as the\nopposite doctrine of degeneracy was characteristic of the naturalistic\nschool. It is implied in the discourse of Protagoras reported by Plato,\nand also, although less fully, in the introduction to the History of\nThucydides. Plato and Aristotle trace back the intellectual and social\nprogress of mankind to very rude beginnings; while both writers assume\nthat it was effected without any supernatural aid\u2014a point marked to\nthe exclusive credit of Epicurus by M. Guyau.[190] The old notion of\na golden age, accepted as it was by so powerful a school as Stoicism,\nmust have been the chief obstacle to a belief in progress; but the\n_Prometheus_ of Aeschylus, with its vivid picture of the miseries\nsuffered by primitive men through their ignorance of the useful\narts, shows that a truer conception had already gained ground quite\nindependently of philosophic theories. That the primitive state was one\nof lawless violence was declared by another dramatic poet, Critias, who\nhas also much to say about the civilising function of religion;[191]\nand shortly before the time of Epicurus the same view was put forward\nby Euphorion, in a passage of which, as it will probably be new to many\nof our readers, we subjoin a translation:\u2014\n\n    There was a time when mortals lived like brutes\n    In caves and unsunned hollows of the earth,\n    For neither house nor city flanked with towers\n    Had then been reared: no ploughshare cut the clod\n    To make it yield a bounteous harvest, nor\n    Were the vines ranked and trimmed with pruning-knives,\n    But fruitless births the sterile earth did bear.\n    Men on each other fed with mutual slaughter,\n    For Law was feeble, Violence enthroned,\n    And to the strong the weaker fell a prey.\n    But soon as Time that bears and nurtures all\n    Wrought out another change in human life,\u2014\n    Whether some rapt Promethean utterance,\n    Or strong Necessity, or Nature\u2019s teaching\n    Through long experience, their deliverance brought,\u2014\n    Holy D\u00eam\u00eater\u2019s fruit it gave them; the sweet spring\n    Of Bacchus they discovered, and the earth,\n    Unsown before, was ploughed with oxen; cities then\n    They girt with towers and sheltering houses raised,\n    And turned their savage life to civil ways;\n    And after that Law bade entomb the dead\n    And measure out to each his share of dust,\n    Nor leave unburied and exposed to sight\n    Ghastly reminders of their former feasts.[192]\n\nThe merit of having worked up these loose materials into a connected\nsketch was, no doubt, considerable; but, according to Zeller, there is\nreason for attributing it to Theophrastus or even to Democritus rather\nthan to Epicurus.[193] On the other hand, the purely mechanical manner\nin which Lucretius supposes every invention to have been suggested by\nsome accidental occurrence or natural phenomenon, is quite in the style\nof Epicurus, and reminds us of the method by which he is known to have\nexplained every operation of the human mind.[194]\n\n\nVIII.\n\nWe have already repeatedly alluded to the only man of genius whom\nEpicureanism ever counted among its disciples. It is time that we\nshould determine with more precision the actual relation in which\nhe stood to the master whom, with a touching survival of religious\nsentiment, he revered as a saviour and a god.\n\nLucretius has been called Rome\u2019s only great speculative genius.\nThis is, of course, absurd. A talent for lucid exposition does not\nconstitute speculative genius, especially when it is unaccompanied by\nany ability to criticise the opinions expounded. The author of the _De\nRerum Natur\u00e2_ probably had a lawyer\u2019s education. He certainly exhibits\ngreat forensic skill in speaking from his brief. But Cicero and Seneca\nshowed the same skill on a much more extensive scale; and the former\nin particular was immensely superior to Lucretius in knowledge and\nargumentative power. Besides, the poet, who was certainly not disposed\nto hide his light under a bushel, and who exalts his own artistic\nexcellences in no measured terms, never professes to be anything but a\nhumble interpreter of truths first revealed to his Greek instructor\u2019s\nvivid intellect. It has, indeed, been claimed for Lucretius that\nhe teaches a higher wisdom than his acknowledged guide.[195] This\nassertion is, however, not borne out by a careful comparison between\nthe two.[196] In both there is the same theory of the universe, of man,\nand of the relations connecting them with one another. The idea of\nNature in Lucretius shows no advance over the same idea in Epicurus.\nTo each it expresses, not, as with the Stoics, a unifying power, a\ndesign by which all things work together for the best, but simply the\nconditions of a permanent mechanical aggregation. When Lucretius speaks\nof _foedera Naturai_, he means, not what we understand by laws of\nnature, that is, uniformities of causation underlying all phenomenal\ndifferences, to understand which is an exaltation of human dignity\nthrough the added power of prevision and control which it bestows,\nbut rather the limiting possibilities of existence, the barriers\nagainst which human hopes and aspirations dash themselves in vain\u2014an\nobjective logic which guards us against fallacies instead of enabling\nus to arrive at positive conclusions. We have here the pervadingly\nnegative character of Epicureanism, though probably presented with\nsomething of Roman solemnity and sternness. The idea of individuality,\nwith which Lucretius has also been credited, occupies but a small\nplace in his exposition, and seems to have interested him only as a\nparticular aspect of the atomic theory. The ultimate particles of\nmatter must be divided into unlike groups of units, for otherwise we\ncould not explain the unlikenesses exhibited by sensible objects. This\nis neither the original Greek idea, that every man has his own life to\nlead, irrespective of public opinion or arbitrary convention; nor is\nit the modern delight in Nature\u2019s inexhaustible variety as opposed to\nthe poverty of human invention, or to the restrictions of fashionable\ntaste. Nor can we admit that Lucretius developed Epicurean philosophy\nin the direction of increased attention to the external world. The poet\nwas, no doubt, a consummate observer, and he used his observations\nwith wonderful felicity for the elucidation and enforcement of his\nphilosophical reasoning; but in this respect he has been equalled\nor surpassed by other poets who either knew nothing of systematic\nphilosophy, or, like Dante, were educated in a system as unlike as\npossible to that of Epicurus. There is, therefore, every reason for\nassuming that he saw and described phenomena not by virtue of his\nscientific training, but by virtue of his artistic endowment. And the\nsame may be said of the other points in which he is credited with\nimprovements on his master\u2019s doctrine. There is, no doubt, a strong\nconsciousness of unity, of individuality, and of law running through\nhis poem. But it is under the form of intuitions or contemplations, not\nunder the form of speculative ideas that they are to be found. And,\nas will be presently shown, it is not as attributes of Nature but as\nattributes of life that they present themselves to his imagination.\n\nIn ethics, the dependence of Lucretius on his master is not less\nclose than in physics. There is the same inconsistent presentation\nof pleasure conceived under its intensest aspect, and then of mere\nrelief from pain, as the highest good;[197] the same dissuasion from\nsensuality, not as in itself degrading, but as involving disagreeable\nconsequences;[198] the same inculcation of frugal and simple living as\na source of happiness; the same association of justice with the dread\nof detection and punishment;[199] the same preference\u2014particularly\nsurprising in a Roman\u2014of quiet obedience to political power;[200]\nfinally, the same rejection, for the same reason, of divine providence\nand of human immortality, along with the same attempt to prove that\ndeath is a matter of indifference to us, enforced with greater passion\nand wealth of illustration, but with no real addition to the philosophy\nof the subject.[201]\n\nNevertheless, after all has been said, we are conscious of a great\nchange in passing from the Greek moralist to the Roman poet. We seem\nto be breathing a new atmosphere, to find the old ideas informed with\nan unwonted life, to feel ourselves in the presence of one who has a\npower of stamping his convictions on us not ordinarily possessed by\nthe mere imitative disciple. The explanation of this difference, we\nthink, lies in the fact that Lucretius has so manipulated the Epicurean\ndoctrines as to convert them from a system into a picture; and that he\nhas saturated this picture with an emotional tone entirely wanting to\nthe spirit of Epicureanism as it was originally designed. It is with\nthe latter element that we may most conveniently begin.\n\nAttention has already been called to the fact that Epicurus, although\nhimself indifferent to physical science, was obliged, by the demands of\nthe age, to give it a place, and a very large place, in his philosophy.\nNow it was to this very side of Epicureanism that the fresh intellect\nof Rome most eagerly attached itself. It is a great mistake to suppose\nthat the Romans, or rather the ancient Italians, were indifferent to\nspeculations about the nature of things. No one has given more eloquent\nexpression to the enthusiasm excited by such enquiries than Virgil.\nSeneca devoted a volume to physical questions, and regretted that\nworldly distractions should prevent them from being studied with the\nassiduity they deserved. The elder Pliny lost his life in observing\nthe eruption of Vesuvius. It was probably the imperial despotism,\nwith its repeated persecutions of the \u2018Mathematicians,\u2019 which alone\nprevented Italy from entering on the great scientific career for which\nshe was predestined in after ages. At any rate, a spirit of active\ncuriosity was displaying itself during the last days of the republic,\nand we are told that nearly all the Roman Epicureans applied themselves\nparticularly to the physical side of their master\u2019s doctrine.[202] Most\nof all was Lucretius distinguished by a veritable passion for science,\nwhich haunted him even in his dreams.[203] Hence, while Epicurus\nregarded the knowledge of Nature simply as a means for overthrowing\nreligion, with his disciple the speculative interest seems to precede\nevery other consideration, and religion is only introduced afterwards\nas an obstacle to be removed from the enquirer\u2019s path. How far his\nnatural genius might have carried the poet in this direction, had he\nfallen into better hands, we cannot tell. As it was, the gift of what\nseemed a complete and infallible interpretation of physical phenomena\nrelieved him from the necessity of independent investigation, and\ninduced him to accept the most preposterous conclusions as demonstrated\ntruths. But we can see how he is drawn by an elective affinity to that\nearly Greek thought whence Epicurus derived whatever was of any real\nvalue in his philosophy.\n\nIt has been doubted, we think with insufficient reason, that Lucretius\nwas acquainted at first hand with Empedocles.[204] But, by whatever\nchannel it reached him, the enthusiasm of Empedocles and the Eleates\nlives in his verse no less truly than the inspiration of Aeolian music\nin the song of his younger contemporary, Catullus. The atomic theory,\nwith its wonderful revelations of invisible activity and unbroken\ncontinuity underlying the abrupt revolutions of phenomenal existence,\nhad been the direct product of those earliest struggles towards a\ndeeper vision into the mysteries of cosmic life; and so Lucretius was\nenabled through his grasp of the theory itself to recover the very\nspirit and passion from which it sprang.[205]\n\nBut the enthusiasm for science, however noble in itself, would not\nalone have sufficed to mould the Epicurean philosophy into a true work\nof art. The _De Rerum Natur\u00e2_ is the greatest of all didactic poems,\nbecause it is something more than didactic. Far more truly than any\nof its Latin successors, it may claim comparison with the epic and\ndramatic masterpieces of Greece and Christian Europe; and that too not\nby virtue of any detached passages, however splendid, but by virtue\nof its composition as a whole. The explanation of this extraordinary\nsuccess is to be sought in the circumstance that the central interest\nwhence Lucretius works out in all directions is vital rather than\nmerely scientific. The true heroine of his epic is not Nature but\nuniversal life\u2014human life in the first instance, then the life of all\nthe lower animals, and even of plants as well. Not only does he bring\nbefore us every stage of man\u2019s existence from its first to its last\nhour with a comprehensiveness, a fidelity, and a daring unparalleled\nin literature; but he exhibits with equal power of portrayal the\ntowered elephants carrying confusion into the ranks of war, or girdling\ntheir own native India with a rampart of ivory tusks; the horse with an\neagerness for the race that outruns even the impulse of his own swift\nlimbs, or fiercely neighing with distended nostrils on the battlefield;\nthe dog snuffing an imaginary scent, or barking at strange faces in\nhis dreams; the cow sorrowing after her lost heifer; the placid and\nlaborious ox; the flock of pasturing sheep seen far off, like a white\nspot on some green hill; the tremulous kids and sportive lambs; the\nnew-fledged birds filling all the grove with their fresh songs; the\ndove with her neck-feathers shifting from ruby-red to sky-blue and\nemerald-green; the rookery clamouring for wind or rain; the sea birds\nscreaming over the salt waves in search of prey; the snake sloughing\nits skin; the scaly fishes cleaving their way through the yielding\nstream; the bee winging its flight from flower to flower; the gnat\nwhose light touch on our faces passes unperceived; the grass refreshed\nwith dew; the trees bursting into sudden life from the young earth, or\ngrowing, flourishing, and covering themselves with fruit, dependent,\nlike animals, on heat and moisture for their increase, and glad\nlike them:\u2014all these helping to illustrate with unequalled variety,\nmovement, and picturesqueness the central idea which Lucretius carries\nalways in his mind.\n\nThe keynote of the whole poem is struck in its opening lines. When\nVenus is addressed as Nature\u2019s sole guide and ruler, this, from the\npoet\u2019s own point of view, is not true of Nature as a whole, but it is\neminently true of life, whether we identify Venus with the passion\nthrough which living things are continually regenerated, or with the\npleasure which is their perpetual motive and their only good. And it\nis equally appropriate, equally characteristic of a consummate artist,\nthat the interest of the work should culminate in a description of\nthis same passion, no longer as the source of life, but as its last\noutcome and full flower, yet also, when pushed to excess, the illusion\nby which it is most utterly disappointed and undone; and that the whole\nshould conclude with a description of death, not as exemplified in any\nindividual tragedy, but in such havoc as was wrought by the famous\nplague at Athens on man and beast alike. Again, it is by the orderly\nsequence of vital phenomena that Lucretius proves his first great\nprinciple, the everlasting duration and changelessness of matter. If\nsomething can come out of nothing, he asks us, why is the production of\nall living things attached to certain conditions of place and season\nand parentage, according to their several kinds? Or if a decrease in\nthe total sum of existence be possible, whence comes the inexhaustible\nsupply of materials needed for the continual regeneration, growth, and\nnourishment of animal life? It is because our senses cannot detect\nthe particles of matter by whose withdrawal visible objects gradually\nwaste away that the existence of extremely minute atoms is assumed;\nand, so far, there is also a reference to inorganic bodies; but the\nporosity of matter is proved by the interstitial absorption of food\nand the searching penetration of cold; while the necessity of a vacuum\nis established by the ability of fish to move through the opposing\nstream. The generic differences supposed to exist among the atoms are\ninferred from the distinctions separating not only one animal species\nfrom another, but each individual from all others of the same species.\nThe deflection of the atoms from the line of perpendicular descent is\nestablished by the existence of human free-will. So also, the analysis\nwhich distinguishes three determinate elements in the composition\nof the soul finds its justification in the diverse characters of\nanimals\u2014the fierceness of the lion, the placidity of the ox, and the\ntimorousness of the deer\u2014qualities arising from the preponderance of a\nfiery, an a\u00ebrial, and a windy ingredient in the animating principle of\neach respectively. Finally, by another organic illustration, the atoms\nin general are spoken of as _semina rerum_\u2014seeds of things.\n\nAt the same time Lucretius is resolved that no false analogy shall\nobscure the distinction between life and the conditions of life. It is\nfor attempting, as he supposes, to efface this distinction that he so\nsharply criticises the earlier Greek thinkers. He scoffs at Heracleitus\nfor imagining that all forms of existence can be deduced from the\nsingle element of fire. The idea of evolution and transformation seems,\nunder some of its aspects, utterly alien to our poet. His intimacy with\nthe world of living forms had accustomed him to view Nature as a vast\nassemblage of fixed types which might be broken up and reconstructed,\nbut which by no possibility could pass into one another. Yet this rigid\nretention of characteristic differences in form permits a certain play\nand variety of movement, an individual spontaneity for which no law can\nbe prescribed. The _foedera Naturai_, as Prof. Sellar aptly observes,\nare opposed to the _foedera fati_.[206] And this is just what might\nbe expected from a philosophy based on the contemplation of life. For,\nwhile there is no capriciousness at all about the structure of animals,\nthere is apparently a great deal of capriciousness about their actions.\nOn the other hand, the Stoics, who derived their physics in great part\nfrom Heracleitus, came nearer than Lucretius to the standpoint of\nmodern science. With them, as with the most advanced thinkers now, it\nis the _foedera Naturai_\u2014the uniformities of co-existence\u2014which are\nliable to exception and modification, while the _foedera fati_\u2014the laws\nof causation\u2014are necessary and absolute.\n\nIn like manner, Lucretius rejects the theory that living bodies\nare made up of the four elements, much as he admires its author,\nEmpedocles. It seemed to him a blind confusion of the inorganic with\nthe organic, the complex harmonies of life needing a much more subtle\nexplanation than was afforded by such a crude intermixture of warring\nprinciples. If the theory of Anaxagoras fares no better in his hands,\nit is for the converse reason. He looks on it as an attempt to carry\nback purely vital phenomena into the inorganic world, to read into the\nultimate molecules of matter what no analysis can make them yield\u2014that\nis, something with properties like those of the tissues out of which\nanimal bodies are composed.\n\nThus, while the atomic theory enables Lucretius to account for the\ndependent and perishable nature of life, the same theory enables him to\nbring out by contrast its positive and distinguishing characteristics.\nThe bulk, the flexibility, the complexity, and the sensibility of\nanimal bodies are opposed to the extreme minuteness, the absolute\nhardness, the simplicity, and the unconsciousness of the primordial\nsubstances which build them up.\n\nOn passing from the ultimate elements of matter to those immense\naggregates which surpass man in size and complexity as much as the\natoms fall below him, but on whose energies his dependence is no less\nhelpless and complete\u2014the infinite worlds typified for us by this one\nsystem wherein we dwell, with its solid earthly nucleus surrounded by\nrolling orbs of light\u2014Lucretius still carries with him the analogies\nof life; but in proportion to the magnitude and remoteness of the\nobjects examined, his grasp seems to grow less firm and his touch\nless sure. In marked contrast to Plato, Aristotle, and the Stoics, he\nargues passionately against the ascription of a beneficent purpose to\nthe constitution of the world; but his reasonings are based solely on\nits imperfect adaptation to the necessities of human existence. With\nequal vigour he maintains, apparently against Aristotle, that the\npresent system has had a beginning; against both Aristotle and Plato\nthat, in common with all systems, it will have an end\u2014a perfectly\ntrue conclusion, but evidently based on nothing stronger than the\nanalogies of vital phenomena. And everywhere the subjective standpoint,\nmaking man the universal measure, is equally marked. Because our\nknowledge of history does not go far back, we cannot be far removed\nfrom its absolute beginning; and the history of the human race must\nmeasure the duration of the visible world. The earth is conceived as\na mother bringing forth every species of living creature from her\nteeming bosom; and not only that, but a nursing mother feeding her\nyoung offspring with abundant streams of milk\u2014an unexpected adaptation\nfrom the myth of a golden age. If we no longer witness such wonderful\ndisplays of fertility, the same elastic method is invoked to explain\ntheir cessation. The world, like other animals, is growing old and\neffete. The exhaustion of Italian agriculture is adduced as a sign of\nthe world\u2019s decrepitude with no less confidence than the freshness\nof Italian poetry as a sign of its youth. The vast process of cosmic\nchange, with its infinite cycles of aggregation and dissolution, does\nbut repeat on an overwhelming scale the familiar sequences of birth and\ndeath in animal species. Even the rising and setting of the heavenly\nbodies and the phases of the moon may, it is argued, result from a\nsimilar succession of perishing individuals, although we take them for\ndifferent appearances of a single unalterable sphere.[207]\n\nA similar vein of thought runs through the moral and religious\nphilosophy of Lucretius. If we look on him as a reformer, we shall\nsay that his object was to free life from the delusions with which it\nhad been disfigured by ignorance and passion. If we look on him as an\nartist, we shall say that he instinctively sought to represent life in\nthe pure and perfect beauty of its naked form. If we look on him as a\npoet, we shall say that he exhibits all the objects of false belief no\nlonger in the independence of their fancied reality, but in their place\namong other vital phenomena, and in due subordination to the human\nconsciousness whose power, even when it is bound by them, they reveal.\nBut while the first alternative leaves him in the position of a mere\nimitator or expositor who brings home no lessons that Epicurus had not\nalready enforced with far greater success, the other two, and above\nall the last, restore him to the position of an original genius, who,\ninstead of deriving his intuitions from the Epicurean system, adopts\njust so much of that system as is necessary to give them coherence\nand shape. It may, no doubt, be urged, that were life reduced to the\nsimple expression, the state of almost vegetative repose, demanded\nby Lucretius, denuded of love, of ambition, of artistic luxury, of\nthat aspiration towards belief in and union with some central soul of\nthings, which all religions, more or less distinctly embody, its value\nfor imaginative purposes would be destroyed; and that the deepest\nlesson taught by his poem would not be how to enjoy existence with the\ngreatest intensity, but how to abandon it with the least regret. Now\nit is just here that the wonderful power of poetry comes in, and does\nfor once, under the form of a general exposition, what it has to do\nagain and again under the easier conditions of individual presentation.\nFor poetry is essentially tragic, and almost always excites the\nactivity of our imagination, not by giving it the assured possession\nof realities, but by the strain resulting from their actual or their\nexpected eclipse. If Homer and the Attic tragedians show us what is\nlife, and what are the goods of life, it is not through experience\nof the things themselves, but through the form of the void and the\noutline of the shadow which their removal or obscuration has produced.\nSo also in the universal tragedy of the Roman poet, where the actors\nare not persons, but ideas. Every belief is felt with more poignant\nintensity at the moment of its overthrow, and the world of illusion is\ncompensated for intellectual extinction by imaginative persistence as\na conscious creation, a memory, or a dream. There is no mythological\npicture so splendidly painted as those in which Lucretius has shown\nus Mavors pillowed on the lap of Venus, or led before us the Idaean\nmother in her triumphal car. No redeemer, credited with supernatural\npowers, has ever enjoyed such an apotheosis as that bestowed by his\nworshipper on the apostle of unbelief. Nowhere have the terrible and\nmysterious suggestions of mortality been marshalled with such effect as\nin the argument showing that death no more admits of experience than\nof escape. What love-inspired poet has ever followed the storm and\nstress of passion with such tenderness of sympathy or such audacity of\ndisclosure, as he to whom its objects were disrobed of their divinity,\nfor whom its fancied satisfaction was but the kindling to insaner\neffort of a fatally unquenchable desire? Instead of being \u2018compelled to\nteach a truth he would not learn,\u2019 Lucretius was enabled by the spirit\nof his own incomparable art to seize and fix for ever, in bold reversal\nof light and shade, those visions on which the killing light of truth\nhad long before him already dawned.\n\nThe _De Rerum Natur\u00e2_ is the greatest of Roman poems, because it\nis just the one work where the abstract genius of Rome met with a\nsubject combining an abstract form with the interest and inspiration\nof concrete reality; where negation works with a greater power\nthan assertion; where the satire is directed against follies more\nwide-spread and enduring than any others; where the teaching in some\nmost essential points can never be superseded; and where dependence\non a Greek model left the poet free to contribute from his own\nimagination those elements to which the poetic value of his work is\nentirely due. By a curious coincidence, the great poet of mediaeval\nItaly attained success by the employment of a somewhat similar method.\nDante represented, it is true, in their victorious combination,\nthree influences against which Lucretius waged an unrelenting\nwarfare\u2014religion, the idealising love of woman, and the spiritualistic\nphilosophy of Greece. Nevertheless, they resemble each other in this\nimportant particular, that both have taken an abstract theory of the\nworld as the mould into which the burning metal of their imaginative\nconceptions is poured. Dante, however, had a power of individual\npresentation which Lucretius either lacked or had no opportunity\nof exercising; and therefore he approaches nearer to that supreme\ncreativeness which only two races, the Greek and the English, have\nhitherto displayed on a very extended scale.\n\n\nIX.\n\nReturning once more to Epicurus, we have now to sum up the\ncharacteristic excellences and defects of his philosophy. The revival\nof the atomic theory showed unquestionable courage and insight. Outside\nthe school of Democritus, it was, so far as we know, accepted by no\nother thinker. Plato never mentions it. Aristotle examined and rejected\nit. The opponents of Epicurus himself treated it as a self-evident\nabsurdity.[208] Only Marcus Aurelius seems to have contemplated the\npossibility of its truth.[209]. But while to have maintained the right\ntheory in the face of such universal opposition was a proof of no\ncommon discernment, we must remember that appropriating the discoveries\nof others, even when those discoveries are in danger of being lost\nthrough neglect, is a very different thing from making discoveries for\none\u2019s self. No portion of the glory due to Leucippus and Democritus\nshould be diverted to their arrogant successor. And it must also be\nremembered that the Athenian philosopher, by his theory of deflection,\nnot only spoiled the original hypothesis, but even made it a little\nridiculous.\n\nThe second service of Epicurus was entirely to banish the idea of\nsupernatural interference from the study of natural phenomena. This\nalso was a difficult enterprise in the face of that overwhelming\ntheological reaction begun by Socrates, continued by Plato, and carried\nto grotesque consequences by the Stoics; but, here again, there can\nbe no question of attributing any originality to the philosopher of\nthe Garden. That there either were no gods at all, or that if there\nwere they never meddled with the world, was a common enough opinion in\nPlato\u2019s time; and even Aristotle\u2019s doctrine of a Prime Mover excludes\nthe notion of creation, providence, and miracles altogether. On the\nother hand, the Epicurean theory of idle gods was irrational in itself,\nand kept the door open for a return of superstitious beliefs.\n\nThe next and perhaps the most important point in favour of Epicureanism\nis its theory of pleasure as the end of action. Plato had left his idea\nof the good undefined; Aristotle had defined his in such a manner as\nto shut out the vast majority of mankind from its pursuit; the Stoics\nhad revolted every instinct by altogether discarding pleasure as an\nend, and putting a purely formal and hollow perfection in its place.\nIt must further be admitted that Epicurus, in tracing back justice to\nthe two ideas of interest and contract, had hold of a true and fertile\nprinciple. Nevertheless, although ethics is his strongest ground, his\nusual ill-luck pursues him even here. It is where he is most original\nthat he goes most astray. By reducing pleasure, as an end of action,\nto the mere removal of pain, he alters earlier systems of hedonism for\nthe worse; and plays the game of pessimism by making it appear that, on\nthe whole, death must be preferable to life, since it is what life can\nnever be\u2014a state of absolute repose. And by making self-interest, in\nthe sense of seeking nothing but one\u2019s own pleasure or the means to it,\nthe only rule of action, he endangers the very foundations of society.\nAt best, the selfish system, as Coleridge has beautifully observed,\n\u2018stands in a similar relation to the law of conscience or universal\nselfless reason, as the dial to the sun which indicates its path by\nintercepting its radiance.\u2019[210] Nor is the indication so certain as\nColeridge admitted. A time may come when self-sacrifice shall be\nunnecessary for the public welfare, but we are not within a measurable\ndistance of it as yet.\n\nNo word of commendation can be pronounced on the Epicurean psychology\nand logic. They are both bad in themselves, and inconsistent\nwith the rest of the system. Were all knowledge derived from\nsense-impressions\u2014especially if those impressions were what Epicurus\nimagined them to be\u2014the atomic theory could never have been discovered\nor even conceived, nor could an ideal of happiness have been thought\nout. In its theory of human progress, Epicureanism once more shows to\nadvantage; although in denying all inventiveness to man, and making him\nthe passive recipient of external impressions, it differs widely from\nthe modern school which it is commonly supposed to have anticipated.\nAnd we may reasonably suspect that, here as elsewhere, earlier systems\nembodied sounder views on the same subject.\n\nThe qualities which enabled Epicurus to compete successfully with much\ngreater thinkers than himself as the founder of a lasting sect, were\npractical rather than theoretical. Others before him had taught that\nhappiness was the end of life; none, like him, had cultivated the\nart of happiness, and pointed out the fittest methods for attaining\nit. The idea of such an art was a real and important addition to the\nresources of civilisation. No mistake is greater than to suppose that\npleasure is lost by being made an object of pursuit. To single out the\nmost agreeable course among many alternatives, and, when once found,\nsteadily to pursue it, is an aptitude like any other, and is capable of\nbeing brought to a high degree of perfection by assiduous attention and\nself-discipline.[211] No doubt the capacity for enjoyment is impaired\nby excessive self-consciousness, but the same is true of every other\naccomplishment during the earlier stages of its acquisition. It is only\nthe beginner who is troubled by taking too much thought about his own\nproficiency; when practice has become a second nature, the professor\nof hedonism reaps his harvest of delight without wasting a thought on\nhis own efforts, or allowing the phantom of pleasure in the abstract\nto allure him away from its particular and present realisation. And,\ngranting that happiness as such can be made an object of cultivation,\nEpicurus was perfectly right in teaching that the removal of pain is\nits most essential condition, faulty as was (from a speculative point\nof view) his confusion of the condition with the thing itself. If\nthe professed pleasure-seekers of modern society often fail in the\nbusiness of their lives, it is from neglecting this salutary principle,\nespecially where it takes the form of attention to the requirements of\nhealth. In assigning a high importance to friendship, he was equally\nwell inspired. Congenial society is not only the most satisfying of\nenjoyments in itself, but also that which can be most easily combined\nwith every other enjoyment. It is also true, although a truth felt\nrather than perceived by our philosopher, that speculative agreement,\nespecially when speculation takes the form of dissent from received\nopinions, greatly increases the affection of friends for one another.\nAnd as theology is the subject on which unforced agreement seems most\ndifficult, to eliminate its influence altogether was a valuable though\npurely negative contribution to unanimity of thought and feeling in the\nhedonistic sect.\n\nAn attempt has recently been made by M. Guyau to trace the influence\nof Epicurus on modern philosophy. We cannot but think the method of\nthis able and lucid writer a thoroughly mistaken one. Assuming the\nrecognition of self-interest as the sole or paramount instinct in\nhuman nature, to be the essence of what Epicurus taught, M. Guyau,\nwithout more ado, sets down every modern thinker who agrees with him\non this one point as his disciple, and then adds to the number all\nwho hold that pleasure is the end of action; thus making out a pretty\nlong list of famous names among the more recent continuators of his\ntradition. A more extended study of ancient philosophy would have\nshown the French critic that moralists who, in other respects, were\nmost opposed to Epicurus, agreed with him in holding that every man\nnaturally and necessarily makes his own interest the supreme test\nof right conduct; and that only with the definition of welfare did\ntheir divergence begin. On the other hand, the selfish systems of\nmodern times differ entirely from Epicureanism in their conception\nof happiness. With Hobbes, for instance, whom M. Guyau classes as an\nEpicurean, the ideal is not painlessness but power; the desires are,\naccording to his view, naturally infinite, and are held in check, not\nby philosophical precepts but by mutual restraint; while, in deducing\nthe special virtues, his standard is not the good of each individual,\nbut the good of the whole\u2014in other words, he is, to that extent, a\nStoic rather than an Epicurean. La Rochefoucauld, who is offered as\nanother example of the same tendency, was not a moralist at all; and as\na psychologist he differs essentially from Epicurus in regarding vanity\nas always and everywhere the great motive to virtue. Had the Athenian\nsage believed this he would have despaired of making men happy; for\ndisregard of public opinion, within the limits of personal safety, was,\nwith him, one of the first conditions of a tranquil existence. Nor\nwould he have been less averse from the system of Helv\u00e9tius, another\nof his supposed disciples. The principal originality of Helv\u00e9tius\nwas to insist that the passions, instead of being discouraged\u2014as all\nprevious moralists, Epicurus among the number, had advised\u2014should be\ndeliberately stimulated by the promise of unlimited indulgence to\nthose who distinguished themselves by important public services. Of\nSpinoza we need say nothing, for M. Guyau admits that he was quite as\nmuch inspired by Stoic as by Epicurean ideas. At the same time, the\ncombination of these two ethical systems would have been much better\nillustrated by modern English utilitarianism, which M. Guyau regards\nas a development of Epicureanism alone. The greatest happiness of\nthe greatest number is not an individual or self-interested, but a\nuniversal end, having, as Mill has shown, for its ultimate sanction the\nlove of humanity as a whole, which is an essentially Stoic sentiment.\nIt may be added that utilitarianism has no sympathy with the particular\ntheory of pleasure, whether sensual or negative, adopted by Epicurus.\nIn giving a high, or even the highest place to intellectual enjoyments,\nit agrees with the estimate of Plato and Aristotle, to which he was so\nsteadily opposed. And in duly appreciating the positive side of all\nenjoyments, it returns to the earlier hedonism from which he stood so\nfar apart.\n\nThe distinctive features of Epicureanism have, in truth, never been\ncopied, nor are they ever likely to be copied, by any modern system.\nIt arose, as we have seen, from a combination of circumstances which\nwill hardly be repeated in the future history of thought. As the heat\nand pressure of molten granite turn sandstone into slate, so also the\nmighty systems of Plato and Aristotle, coming into contact with the\nirreligious, sensual, empirical, and sceptical side of Attic thought,\nforced it to assume that sort of laminated texture which characterises\nthe theoretical philosophy of Epicurus. And, at the very same moment,\nthe disappearance of all patriotism and public spirit from Athenian\nlife allowed the older elements of Athenian character, its amiable\negoism, its love of frugal gratifications, its aversion from purely\nspeculative interests, to create a new and looser bond of social union\namong those who were indifferent to the vulgar objects of ambition, but\nwhom the austerer doctrines of Stoicism had failed to attract.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE SCEPTICS AND ECLECTICS: GREEK PHILOSOPHY IN ROME.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe year 155 B.C. was signalised by an important event, if not in the\nhistory of ideas, at least in the history of their diffusion. This\nwas the despatch of an embassy from the Athenian people to the Roman\nSenate, consisting of three philosophers, the heads of their respective\nschools\u2014Carneades the Academician, Critolaus the Peripatetic,\nand Diogenes the Stoic. Philosophic teaching, once proscribed at\nAthens, had, at the time of which we are speaking, become her chief\ndistinction, and the most honourable profession pursued within her\nprecincts. It was, then, as natural that an important mission should be\nconfided to the most eminent representatives of the calling in question\nas that high ecclesiastics should be similarly employed by Rome in\nlater ages, or that German university towns should send professors to\nrepresent their interests in the imperial Diet. But the same fate that\nbefalls an established religion had befallen an established philosophy.\nAn attempt to impose restrictions on the liberty of teaching had,\nindeed, been successfully resisted, and the experiment was never\nrepeated.[212] Nevertheless, the teachers themselves lost as much in\ntrue dignity as they gained in affluence and popular estimation. In all\nprobability, the threat of death would not have induced Socrates to\nundertake the task which was, apparently, accepted without compulsion\nand as an honourable duty by his successors. The Athenians had made an\nunprovoked raid on the town of Oropus; the affair had been referred to\narbitration; and the aggressors had been sentenced to pay a fine of 500\ntalents. It was to obtain a remission of this sentence that the three\nScholarchs were sent on an embassy to the Roman Senate.\n\nIf the nature of their errand was not precisely calculated to win\nrespect for the profession of the Athenian envoys, the subsequent\nproceedings of one among their number proved still less likely to raise\nit in the estimation of those whose favour they sought to win. Hellenic\nculture was, at that time, rapidly gaining ground among the Roman\naristocracy; Carneades, who already enjoyed an immense reputation for\neloquence and ingenuity among his own countrymen, used the opportunity\noffered by his temporary residence in the imperial city to deliver\npublic lectures on morality; and such was the eagerness to listen that\nfor a time the young nobles could think and talk of nothing else. The\nsubject chosen was justice. The first lecture recapitulated whatever\nhad been said in praise of that virtue by Plato and Aristotle. But\nit was a principle of the sect to which Carneades belonged that\nevery affirmative proposition, however strongly supported, might be\ndenied with equal plausibility. Accordingly, his second discourse\nwas entirely devoted to upsetting the conclusions advocated in the\nfirst. Transporting the whole question, as would seem, from a private\nto a public point of view, he attempted to show, from the different\nstandards prevailing in different countries, that there was no such\nthing as an immutable rule of right; and also that the greatest and\nmost successful States had profited most by unscrupulous aggressions\non their weaker neighbours\u2014his most telling illustrations being drawn\nfrom the history of the Romans themselves. Then, descending once more\nto private life, the sceptical lecturer expatiated on the frequency\nof those cases in which justice is opposed to self-interest, and the\nfolly of sacrificing one\u2019s own advantage to that of another. \u2018Suppose\na good man has a runaway slave or an unhealthy house to sell, will\nhe inform the buyer of their deficiencies, or will he conceal them?\nIn the one case he will be a fool, in the other case he will be\nunjust. Again, justice forbids us to take away the life or property\nof another. But in a shipwreck, will not the just man try to save his\nlife at another\u2019s expense by seizing the plank of which some weaker\nperson than himself has got hold\u2014especially if they are alone on the\nsea together? If he is wise he will do so, for to act otherwise would\nbe to sacrifice his life. So also, in flying before the enemy, will\nhe not dispossess a wounded comrade of his horse, in order to mount\nand escape on it himself? Here, again, justice is incompatible with\nself-preservation\u2014that is to say, with wisdom!\u2018[213]\n\nAt the time when Carneades delivered his lectures, the morality of\nRome resembled that of Sparta during her great conflict with Athens,\nas characterised by one of the speakers in the Melian Dialogue.\nScrupulously honourable in their dealings with one another, in their\ndealings with foreign nations her citizens notoriously identified\njustice with what was agreeable or advantageous to themselves. The\narguments of the Academic philosopher must, therefore, have been\ndoubly annoying to the leaders of the State, as a satire on its public\npolicy and as a source of danger to the integrity of its private\nlife. In this respect, old Cato was a type of the whole race. In all\ntransactions with his fellow-citizens, and in every office undertaken\non behalf of the community, his honesty was such that it became\nproverbial. But his absolute disregard of international justice has\nbecome equally proverbial through the famous advice, reiterated on\nevery possible occasion, that an unoffending and unwarlike city should\nbe destroyed, lest its existence should at some future time become a\nsource of uneasiness to the mistress of the world. Perhaps it was a\nsecret consciousness of his own inconsistency which prevented him from\ndirectly proposing that Carneades should not be allowed to continue\nhis lectures. At any rate, the ex-Censor contented himself with moving\nthat the business on which the Athenian envoys had come should be at\nonce concluded, that they might return to their classes at Athens,\nleaving the youth of Rome to seek instruction as before from the wise\nconversation and example of her public men.[214] We are not told\nwhether his speech on this occasion wound up with the usual formula,\n_caeterum, Patres Conscripti, sententia mea est Carthaginem esse\ndelendam_; but as it is stated that from the year 175 to the end of\nhis life, he never made a motion in the Senate that was not terminated\nby those words, we are entitled to assume that he did not omit them\nin the present instance. If so, the effect must have been singularly\ngrotesque; although, perhaps, less so than if attention had been\ndrawn to the customary phrase by its unexpected absence. At any rate,\nCarneades had an opportunity of carrying back one more illustration of\nethical inconsistency wherewith to enliven his lectures on the \u2018vanity\nof dogmatising\u2019 and the absolute equilibrium of contradictory opinions.\n\nIt has been mentioned that Carneades was the head of the Academic\nschool. In that capacity, he was the lineal inheritor of Plato\u2019s\nteaching. Yet a public apology for injustice, even when balanced by a\nprevious panegyric on its opposite, might seem to be of all lessons the\nmost alien from Platonism; and in a State governed by Plato\u2019s own laws,\nit would certainly have been punishable with death. To explain this\nanomaly is to relate the history of Greek scepticism, which is what we\nshall now attempt to do.\n\n\nII.\n\nIn modern parlance, the word scepticism is often used to denote\nabsolute unbelief. This, however, is a misapplication; and, properly\nspeaking, it should be reserved, as it was by the Greeks, for those\ncases in which belief is simply withheld, or in which, as its etymology\nimplies, the mental state connoted is a desire to consider of the\nmatter before coming to a decision. But, of course, there are occasions\nwhen, either from prudence or politeness, absolute rejection of a\nproposition is veiled under the appearance of simple indecision or\nof a demand for further evidence; and at a time when to believe in\ncertain theological dogmas was either dangerous or discreditable,\nthe name sceptic may have been accepted on all hands as a convenient\neuphemism in speaking about persons who did not doubt, but denied\nthem altogether. Again, taken in its original sense, the name sceptic\nis applicable to two entirely different, or rather diametrically\nopposite classes. The true philosopher is more slow to believe than\nother men, because he is better acquainted than they are with the\nrules of evidence, and with the apparently strong claims on our belief\noften possessed by propositions known to be false. To that extent,\nall philosophers are sceptics, and are rightly regarded as such by\nthe vulgar; although their acceptance of many conclusions which the\nunlearned reject without examination, has the contrary effect of giving\nthem a reputation for extraordinary credulity or even insanity. And\nthis leads us to another aspect of scepticism\u2014an aspect under which,\nso far from being an element of philosophy, it is one of the most\ndangerous enemies that philosophy has to face. Instead of regarding\nthe difficulties which beset the path of enquiry as a warning against\npremature conclusions, and a stimulus to more careful research, it is\npossible to make them a pretext for abandoning enquiry altogether. And\nit is also possible to regard the divergent answers given by different\nthinkers to the same problem, not as materials for comparison,\nselection or combination, nor even as indications of the various\ndirections in which a solution is not to be sought, but as a proof\nthat the problem altogether passes the power of human reason to solve.\n\nWere this intellectual despondency to issue in a permanent suspense of\njudgment, it would be bad enough; but practically its consequences are\nof a much more mischievous character. The human mind is so constituted\nthat it must either go forward or fall back; in no case can it stand\nstill. Accordingly, the lazy sceptic almost always ends by conforming\nto the established creeds and customs of his age or of the society\nin which he lives; thus strengthening the hands of authority in its\nconflict with the more energetic or courageous enquirers, whose object\nis to discover, by the unaided efforts of reason, some new and positive\nprinciple either of action or of belief. And the guardians of orthodoxy\nare so well aware of the profit to be reaped from this alliance that,\nwhen debarred from putting down their opponents by law or by public\nopinion, they anxiously foster false scepticism where it is already\nrampant, and endeavour to create it where it does not exist. Sometimes\ndisinterested morality is the object of their attack, and at other\ntimes the foundations of inductive science. Their favourite formula\nis that whatever objections may be urged against their own doctrines,\nothers equally strong may be urged against the results of free thought;\nwhereas the truth is that such objections, being applicable to all\nsystems alike, exactly balance one another, leaving the special\narguments against irrationalism to tell with as much force as before.\nAnd they also lay great stress on the internal dissensions of their\nassailants\u2014dissensions which only bring out into more vivid relief the\none point on which all are agreed, that, whatever else may be true, the\ntraditional opinions are demonstrably false.\n\nAs might be expected from the immense exuberance of their intellectual\nlife, we find every kind of scepticism represented among the\nGreeks; and, as with their other philosophical tendencies, there is\nevidence of its existence previous to or independent of scientific\nspeculation. Their very religion, though burdened with an enormous mass\nof fictitious legends, shows a certain unwillingness to transgress\nthe more obvious laws of nature, not noticeable in the traditions\nof kindred or neighbouring races. Its tendency is rather to imagine\nsupernatural causes for natural events, or to read a divine meaning\ninto accidental occurrences, than to introduce impossibilities into the\nordinary course of history. And some of its most marvellous stories\nare told in such a manner that the incredulous satire with which they\nwere originally received is, by a beautiful play of irony, worked into\nthe very texture of the narrative itself. For example, the Greeks\nwere especially disinclined to believe that one of the lower animals\ncould speak with a human voice, or that a dead man could be brought\nback to life\u2014contradicted as both suppositions were by the facts of\nuniversal experience. So when the horse Xanthus replies to his master\u2019s\nreproaches, Homer adds that his voice was arrested by the Erinyes\u2014that\nis to say, by the laws of nature; and we may suspect that nothing more\nis intended by his speech than the interpretation which Achilles would\nspontaneously put on the mute and pathetic gaze of the faithful steed.\nAnd when, to illustrate the wondrous medical skill of Ascl\u00eapius, it is\nrelated that at last he succeeded in restoring a dead man to life, the\nstory adds that for this impious deed both the healer and his patient\nwere immediately transfixed by a thunderbolt from heaven.[215] Another\nimpossibility is to predict with any certainty the future fate of\nindividuals, and here also\u2014as has been already observed in a different\nconnexion[216]\u2014the Greeks showed their extreme scepticism with regard\nto any alleged contravention of a natural law, under the transparent\ndisguise of stories about persons whom ambiguous predictions had lured\nto their fall.\n\nIt is even doubtful how far the Greek poets believed in the personality\nof their gods, or, what comes to the same thing, in their detachment\nfrom the natural objects in which a divine power was supposed to be\nembodied. Such a detachment is most completely realised when they are\nassembled in an Olympian council; but, as Hegel has somewhere observed,\nHomer never brings his gods together in this manner without presenting\nthem in a ridiculous light\u2014that is to say, without hinting that their\nexistence must not be taken quite in earnest. And the existence of\ndisembodied spirits seems to be similarly conceived by the great epic\nmaster. The life of the souls in Hades is not a continuance but a\nmemory and a reflection of their life on earth. The scornful reply\nof Achilles to the congratulations of Odysseus implies, as it were,\nthe consciousness of his own nonentity. By no other device could the\nirony of the whole situation, the worthlessness of a merely subjective\nimmortality, be made so poignantly apparent.[217]\n\nThe characters in Homer are marked by this incredulous disposition in\ndirect proportion to their general wisdom. When Agamemnon relates his\ndream to the assembled chiefs, Nestor dryly observes that if anyone of\nless authority had told them such a story they would have immediately\nrejected it as untrue. Hector\u2019s outspoken contempt for augury is well\nknown; and his indifference to the dying words of Patroclus is equally\ncharacteristic. In the _Odyssey_, Alcinous pointedly distinguishes his\nguest from the common run of travellers, whose words deserve no credit.\nThat Telemachus should tell who is his father, with the uncomplimentary\nreservation that he has only his mother\u2019s word for it, is evidently\nmeant as a proof of the young man\u2019s precocious shrewdness; and it is\nwith the utmost difficulty that Penelope herself is persuaded of her\nhusband\u2019s identity. So in the _Agamemnon_ of Aeschylus, nothing less\nthan the report of an eye-witness will convince the Chorus of old men\nthat Troy has really fallen.[218] Finally, to complete the list of\nexamples afforded independently of philosophical reflection, Herodotus\nrepeatedly expresses disbelief in the stories told him, or, what is\nmore remarkable, holds his judgment in suspense with regard to their\nveracity.\n\nScepticism, as a philosophical principle, is alien from early Greek\nthought; but it is pervaded by a negative tendency exhibited in four\ndifferent directions, all converging towards the later attitude of\nsuspensive doubt. There are sharp criticisms on the popular mythology;\nthere are protests against the ascription of reality to sensible\nappearances; there are contemptuous references on the part of some\nphilosophers to the opinions held by others; and there are occasional\nlamentations over the difficulty of getting at any truth at all. The\nimportance, however, of these last utterances has been considerably\nexaggerated both in ancient and modern times. For, in some instances,\nthey are attributable solely to the distrust of sense-perception, and\nin others they seem to express nothing more than a passing mood against\nwhich we must set the dogmatic conclusions elsewhere enunciated with\nperfect confidence by the same thinkers.[219] At the same time, we\nhave to note, as an illustration of the standing connexion between\ntheological belief and that kind of scepticism which is shown by\ndistrust in man\u2019s power of discovering the truth for himself, that the\nstrongest expressions of such a distrust are to be found in the two\nmost religious of the pre-Socratic thinkers, Xenophanes and Empedocles.\n\n\nIII.\n\nA new period begins with the Greek Humanists. We use this term in\npreference to that of Sophists, because, as has been shown, in\nspecially dealing with the subject, half the teachers known under the\nlatter denomination made it their business to popularise physical\nscience and to apply it to morality, while the other half struck out\nan entirely different line, and founded their educational system on\nthe express rejection of such investigations; their method being,\nin this respect, foreshadowed by the greatest poet of the age, who\nconcentrates all his attention on the workings of the human mind, and\nfollowed by its greatest historian, with whom a similar study takes\nthe place occupied by geography and natural history in the work of\nHerodotus. This absorption in human interests was unfavourable alike\nto the objects and to the methods of previous enquiry: to the former,\nas a diversion from the new studies; to the latter, as inconsistent\nwith the flexibility and many-sidedness of conscious mind. Hence the\ntrue father of philosophical scepticism was Protagoras. With him, for\nthe first time, we find full expression given to the proper sceptical\nattitude, which is one of suspense and indifference as opposed to\nabsolute denial. He does not undertake to say whether the gods exist or\nnot. He regards the real essence of Nature as unknowable, on account\nof the relativity which characterises all sensible impressions. And\nwherever opinions are divided, he undertakes to provide equally strong\narguments for both sides of the question. He also anticipates the two\nprincipal tendencies exhibited by all future scepticism in its relation\nto practice. One is its devotion to humanity, under the double form\nof exclusive attention to human interests, and great mildness in the\ntreatment of human beings. The other is a disposition to take custom\nand public opinion, rather than any physical or metaphysical law, for\nthe standard and sanction of morality. Such scepticism might for the\nmoment be hostile to religion; but a reconciliation was likely to be\nsoon effected between them.\n\nThe famous theses of Gorgias were quoted in a former chapter as\nan illustration of the tactics pursued by Greek Humanism in its\ncontroversy with physical science. They must be noticed again in the\npresent connexion, on account of their bearing on the development of\nscepticism, and as having inaugurated a method of reasoning often\nemployed in subsequent attacks, directed, not against the whole of\nknowledge, but against particular parts of it. The scepticism of\nProtagoras rested on the assumption that there is an external reality\nfrom the reaction of which with mind all our perceptions proceed.\nNeither of these two factors can be known apart from the other,\nand as both are in a constant flux, our knowledge of the resulting\ncompound at one time does not show what it has been or will be at\nanother time. But Gorgias altogether denied the existence of any\nobjective reality; and he attempted to disprove it by an analytical\ninstead of a synthetic argument, laying down a series of disjunctive\npropositions, and upsetting the different alternatives in succession.\nExistence must be either something or nothing, or both together; and if\nsomething, it must be either finite or infinite, or both, and either\none or many, or both. His argument against an infinite existence is\naltogether futile; but it serves to illustrate the undeveloped state\nof reflection at that period. The eternity of the world is confounded\nwith its unlimited extension in space: and this hypothesis, again, is\nmet by the transparent quibble that the world, not being in any one\nplace, must be nowhere or not at all. And the alternative that the\nworld has not always existed is refuted by the unproved assumption,\nwhich, apparently, no Greek philosopher ever thought of disputing,\nthat nothing can begin without being caused by something else. Still,\nhowever contemptible such reasonings may seem, it is obvious that\nin them we have the first crude form of the famous antinomies by\nwhich Kant long afterwards sought to prove the impossibility of a\nworld existing in space and time apart from a percipient subject, and\nwhich have since been used to establish in a more general way the\nunknowability of existence as such. It will also be observed that the\nsceptical arguments respectively derived from the relativity of thought\nand from the contradictions inherent in its ultimate products are run\ntogether by modern agnostics. But no reason that we can remember has\never been given to show that an idea is necessarily subjective because\nit is self-contradictory.\n\nThe second thesis of Gorgias was that, even granting the world\nto exist, it could not possibly be known. Here the reasoning is\nunexpectedly weak. Because all thoughts do not represent facts,\u2014as,\nfor example, our ideas of impossible combinations, like chariots\nrunning over the sea,\u2014it is assumed that none do. But the problem how\nto distinguish between true and false ideas was raised, and it was\nround this that the fiercest battle between dogmatists and sceptics\nsubsequently raged. And in the complete convertibility of consciousness\nand reality postulated by Gorgias, we may find the suggestion of a\npoint sometimes overlooked in the automatist controversy\u2014namely,\nthat the impossibility, if any, of our acting on the material world\nreciprocally involves the impossibility of its acting on us, in so\nfar as we are conscious beings. If thought cannot be translated into\nmovement, neither can movement be translated into thought.\n\nThe third thesis maintains that, granting the world to exist and to\nbe knowable, one man cannot communicate his knowledge to another;\nfor, the different classes of sensations being heterogeneous, a\nvisual or tactual impression on our consciousness cannot be conveyed\nby an auditory impression on the consciousness of someone else. This\ndifficulty has been completely overcome by the subsequent progress of\nthought. We cannot, it is true, directly communicate more than a few\nsensations to one another; but by producing one we may call up others\nwith which it has become associated through previous experience. And\nthe great bulk of our knowledge has been analysed into relations of\nco-existence, succession, and resemblance, which are quite independent\nof the particular symbols employed to transmit them from one mind to\nanother.[220]\n\nThe scepticism of Aristippus and the Cyrenaics mediated between the\nviews of Protagoras and those of Gorgias, while marking an advance\non both. According to this school, we know nothing beyond our own\nfeelings, and it must be left undecided whether they are caused by\nan external reality or not. Nor can the feelings of one individual\njustify us in reasoning to the existence of similar feelings in\nthe mind of another individual.[221] It might be objected that the\narguments advanced in support of the latter assertion are suicidal,\nfor they are derived from the abnormal states of consciousness\naccompanying particular diseases, or else from the divergences of\ntaste exhibited by different individuals even when in good health,\u2014an\napparent admission that we are sufficiently well acquainted with the\nphenomena in question to institute a comparison between them, which,\nby hypothesis, is impossible. And this is, in fact, the method by\nwhich Mr. Herbert Spencer has endeavoured to upset the whole theory\nof subjective idealism, as involving at every step an assumption of\nthe very realities that it professes to deny. But the Cyrenaic and\nthe modern idealist have a perfect right to show that the assumptions\nof their adversaries are self-contradictory; and the readiest way\nof so doing is to reason from them as if they were true. The real\nanswer to that extreme form of idealism which denies the possibility\nof making known our feelings to each other is that, our bodies being\nsimilarly constructed and responding to similar impressions by similar\nmanifestations, I have the same sort of warrant for assuming that your\nstates of consciousness are like mine that I have for assuming you to\nexist at all. The inference must, of course, be surrounded by proper\nprecautions, such as are seldom used by unscientific reasoners. We must\nmake sure that the structure is the same and that the excitement is the\nsame, or that their differences, if any, are insignificant, before we\ncan attribute the same value to the same manifestations of feeling on\nthe part of different persons; but that this can be done, at least in\nthe case of the elementary sensations, is shown by the easy detection\nof such anomalies as colour-blindness where they exist.\n\nWith Socrates and Plato, scepticism exhibits itself under two new\naspects: as an accompaniment of religious belief, and as an element\nof constructive thought. Thus they represent both the good and the\nbad side of this tendency: the aspect under which it is a help, and\nthe aspect under which it is a hindrance to scientific investigation.\nWith both philosophers, however, the restriction or negation of human\nknowledge was a consequence rather than a cause of their theological\nconvictions; nor do they seem to have appreciated its value as a weapon\nin the controversy with religious unbelief. When Socrates represented\nthe irreconcilable divergence in the explanations of Nature offered\nby previous thinkers as a sufficient condemnation of their several\npretensions, he did not set this fact against the arguments by which\na Xenophanes had similarly endeavoured to overthrow the popular\nmythology; but he looked on it as a fatal consequence of their insane\npresumption in meddling with the secrets of the gods. On one occasion\nonly, when explaining to Euthyd\u00eamus that the invisibility of the gods\nis no reason for doubting their existence, he argues, somewhat in\nButler\u2019s style, that our own minds, whose existence we cannot doubt,\nare equally invisible.[222] And the Platonic Socrates makes it his\nbusiness to demonstrate the universality of human ignorance, not as a\ncaution against dogmatic unbelief, but as a glorification of the divine\nknowledge; though how we come to know that there is any such knowledge\nhe leaves utterly unexplained.\n\nIn Plato\u2019s _Parmenides_ we have to note the germ of a new dialectic.\nThere it is suggested that we may overcome the difficulties attending a\nparticular theory\u2014in this instance the theory of self-existing ideas\u2014by\nconsidering how much greater are the difficulties which would ensue\non its rejection. The arguments advanced by Zeno the Eleatic against\nthe reality of motion are mentioned as a case in point; and Plato\nproceeds to illustrate his proposed method by showing what consequences\nrespectively follow if we first assume the existence, and then the\nnon-existence of the One; but the whole analysis seems valueless for\nits immediate purpose, since the resulting impossibilities on either\nside are left exactly balanced; and Plato does not, like some modern\nmetaphysicians, call in our affections to decide the controversy.\n\nThe method by which Plato eventually found his way out of the sceptical\ndifficulty, was to transform it from a subjective law of thought\ninto an objective law of things. Adopting the Heracleitean physics\nas a sufficient explanation of the material world, he conceived,\nat a comparatively early period of his mental evolution, that the\nfallaciousness of sense-impressions is due, not to the senses\nthemselves, but to the instability of the phenomena with which they\ndeal; and afterwards, on discovering that the interpretation of ideal\nrelations was subject to similar perplexities, he assumed that, in\ntheir case also, the contradiction arises from a combination of Being\nwith not-Being determining whatever differences prevail among the\nultimate elements of things. And, finally, like Empedocles, he solved\nthe problem of cognition by establishing a parallel between the human\nsoul and the universe as a whole; the circles of the Same and the\nOther being united in the celestial orbits and also in the mechanism\nof the brain.[223]\n\nIt was by an analogous, though, of course, far more complicated and\ningenious adjustment, that Hegel sought to overcome the agnosticism\nwhich Kant professed to have founded on a basis of irrefragable\nproof. With both philosophers, however, the sceptical principle was\ncelebrating its supreme triumph at the moment of its fancied overthrow.\nThe dogmatism of doubt could go no further than to resolve the whole\nchain of existence into a succession of mutually contradictory ideas.\n\nIf the synthesis of affirmation and negation cannot profitably be\nused to explain the origin of things in themselves, it has a real and\nvery important function when limited to the subjective sphere, to the\nphilosophy of practice and of belief. It was so employed by Socrates,\nand, on a much greater scale, by Plato himself. To consider every\nproposition from opposite points of view, and to challenge the claim of\nevery existing custom on our respect, was a proceeding first instituted\nby the master, and carried out by the disciple in a manner which has\nmade his investigations a model for every future enquirer. Something\nof their spirit was inherited by Aristotle; but, except in his\nlogical treatises, it was overborne by the demands of a pre-eminently\ndogmatic and systematising genius. In criticising the theories of his\npredecessors, he has abundantly illustrated the power of dialectic,\nand he has enumerated its resources with conscientious completeness;\nbut he has not verified his own conclusions by subjecting them to this\nformidable testing apparatus.\n\nMeanwhile the scepticism of Protagoras had not been entirely absorbed\ninto the systems of his rivals, but continued to exist as an\nindependent tradition, or in association with a simpler philosophy.\nThe famous school of Megara, about which, unfortunately, we have\nreceived very little direct information, was nominally a development\nof the Socratic teaching on its logical side, as the Cynic and\nCyrenaic schools were on its ethical side, but like them also, it\nseems to have a more real connexion with the great impulse previously\ngiven to speculation by the Sophists. At any rate, we chiefly hear\nof the Megarians as having denied the possibility of definition, to\nwhich Socrates attached so much importance, and as framing questions\nnot susceptible of a categorical answer,\u2014an evident satire on the\nSocratic method of eliciting the truth by cross-examination.[224]\nWhat they really derived from Socrates seems to have been his mental\nconcentration and independence of external circumstances. Here they\nclosely resembled the Cynics, as also in their contempt for formal\nlogic; but while Antisthenes found a sanction for his indifference\nand impassivity in the order of nature, their chief representative,\nStilpo, achieved the same result by pushing the sceptical principle\nto consequences from which even the Cyrenaics would have shrunk.\nDenying the possibility of attaching a predicate to a subject, he\nseems, in like manner, to have isolated the mind from what are called\nits affections, or, at least, to have made this isolation his ideal\nof the good. Even the Stoics did not go to such a length; and Seneca\ndistinguishes himself from the followers of Stilpo by saying, \u2018Our sage\nfeels trouble while he overcomes it, whereas theirs does not feel it at\nall.\u2019[225]\n\n\nIV.\n\nSo far, the sceptical theory had been put forward after a somewhat\nfragmentary fashion, and in strict dependence on the previous\ndevelopment of dogmatic philosophy. With the Humanists it had taken\nthe form of an attack on physical science; with the Megarians, of a\ncriticism on the Socratic dialectic; with both, it had been pushed\nto the length of an absolute negation, logically not more defensible\nthan the affirmations to which it was opposed. What remained was that,\nafter being consistently formulated, its results should be exhibited\nin their systematic bearing on the practical interests of mankind. The\ntwofold task was accomplished by Pyrrho, whose name has accordingly\ncontinued to be associated, even in modern times, with the profession\nof universal doubt. This remarkable man was a native of Elis, where a\nbranch of the Megarian school had at one time established itself; and\nit seems likely that the determining impulse of his life was, directly\nor indirectly, derived from Stilpo\u2019s teaching. A contemporary of\nAlexander the Great, he accompanied the Macedonian army on its march to\nIndia, subsequently returning to his native city, where he died at an\nadvanced age, about 275 B.C. The absurd stories about his indifference\nto material obstacles when out walking have been already mentioned in a\nformer chapter, and are sufficiently refuted by the circumstances just\nrelated. The citizens of Elis are said to have shown their respect for\nthe philosopher by exempting him from taxation, appointing him their\nchief priest\u2014no inappropriate office for a sceptic of the true type\u2014and\nhonouring his memory with a statue, which was still pointed out to\nsightseers in the time of Pausanias.[226]\n\nPyrrho, who probably no more believed in books than in anything else,\nnever committed his opinions to writing; and what we know of them is\nderived from the reports of his disciples, which, again, are only\npreserved in a very incomplete form by the compilers of the empire.\nAccording to these, Pyrrho began by declaring that the philosophic\nproblem might be summed up in the three following questions: \u2018What\nis the nature of things? What should be our relation to them? What is\nthe practical consequence of this determination?\u2019 Of its kind, this\nstatement is probably the best ever framed, and might be accepted\nwith equal readiness by every school of thought. But the scepticism\nof Pyrrho at once reveals itself in his answer to the first question.\nWe know nothing about things in themselves. Every assertion made\nrespecting them is liable to be contradicted, and neither of the two\nopposing propositions deserves more credence than the other. The\nconsiderations by which Pyrrho attempts to establish this proposition\nwere probably suggested by the systems of Plato and Aristotle. The\nonly possible avenues of communication with the external world are,\nhe tells us, sense and reason. Of these the former was so universally\ndiscredited that he seems to have regarded any elaborate refutation\nof its claims as superfluous. What we perceive by our senses is the\nappearance, not the reality of things. This is exactly what the\nCyrenaics had already maintained. The inadequacy of reason is proved\nby a more original method. Had men any settled principles of judgment,\nthey would agree on questions of conduct, for it is with regard to\nthese that they are best informed, whereas the great variety of laws\nand customs shows that the exact opposite is true. They are more\nhopelessly divided on points of morality than on any other.[227] It\nwill be remembered that Pyrrho\u2019s fellow-townsman, Hippias, had, about\na hundred years earlier, founded his theory of Natural Law on the\narbitrary and variable character of custom. The result of combining\nhis principles with those professed by Protagoras and Gorgias was to\nestablish complete moral scepticism; but it would be a mistake to\nsuppose that moral distinctions had no value for him personally, or\nthat they were neglected in his public teaching.\n\nTimon, a celebrated disciple of Pyrrho, added another and, from the\nspeculative point of view, a much more powerful argument, which,\nhowever, may equally have been borrowed from the master\u2019s lectures.\nReaders of the _Posterior Analytics_ will remember how strongly\nAristotle dwells on the necessity of starting with first principles\nwhich are self-evidently true. The chain of demonstration must have\nsomething to hang on, it cannot be carried back _ad infinitum_. Now,\nTimon would not admit of such a thing as first principles. Every\nassumption, he says, must rest on some previous assumption, and as this\nprocess cannot be continued for ever, there can be no demonstration\nat all. This became a very favourite weapon with the later Sceptics,\nand, still at the suggestion of Aristotle, they added the further\n\u2018trope\u2019 of compelling their adversaries to choose between going back\n_ad infinitum_ and reasoning in a circle\u2014in other words, proving the\npremises by means of the conclusion. Modern science would not feel much\nappalled by the sceptical dilemma. Its actual first principles are\nonly provisionally assumed as ultimate, and it is impossible for us\nto tell how much farther their analysis may be pursued; while, again,\ntheir validity is guaranteed by the circular process of showing that\nthe consequences deduced from them agree with the facts of experience.\nBut as against those modern philosophers who, in adherence to the\nAristotelian tradition, still seek to base their systems on first\nprinciples independent of any individual experience, the sceptical\nargument is unanswerable, and has even been strengthened by the\nprogress of knowledge. To this day, thinkers of different schools\ncannot agree about the foundations of belief, and what to one seems\nself-evidently true, is to another either conceivably or actually\nfalse. To Mr. Herbert Spencer the persistence of force is a necessary\ntruth; to Prof. Stanley Jevons its creation is a perfectly possible\ncontingency; while to others, again, the whole conception of force, as\nunderstood by Mr. Spencer, is so absolutely unmeaning that they would\ndecline to entertain any proposition about the invariability of the\nobjective reality which it is supposed to represent. And when the _\u00e0\npriori_ dogmatist affects to treat the negations of his opponents as\nsomething that they do not think, but only think they think, they may,\nwith perfect fairness, attribute his rejection of their beliefs\u2014as,\nfor example, free-will\u2014to a similar subjective illusion. Moreover, the\npure experimentalists can point to a circumstance not foreseen by the\nancient sceptics, which is that propositions once generally regarded\nas incontrovertible by thinking men, are now as generally abandoned by\nthem.\n\nHaving proved, to his satisfaction, that the nature of things is\nunknowable, Pyrrho proceeds to deal with the two remaining heads of the\nphilosophic problem. To the question what should be our relation to a\nuniverse which we cannot reach, the answer is, naturally, one of total\nindifference. And the advantage to be derived from this attitude is, he\ntells us, that we shall secure the complete imperturbability wherein\ntrue happiness consists. The sceptical philosophy does not agree with\nStilpo in denying the reality of actual and immediate annoyances, for\nit denies nothing; but it professes to dispel that very large amount\nof unhappiness which arises from the pursuit of fancied goods and the\nexpectation of future calamities. In respect to the latter, what Pyrrho\nsought was to arrive by the exercise of reasoning at the tranquillity\nwhich unreasoning animals naturally enjoy. Thus, we are told that,\nwhen out at sea in a storm, he called the attention of the terrified\npassengers to a little pig which was quietly feeding in spite of the\ndanger, and taught them that the wise man should attain to a similar\nkind of composure.\n\nVarious other anecdotes of more or less doubtful authenticity are\nrelated, showing that the philosopher could generally, though not\nalways, act up to his own ideal of indifference. He lived with his\nsister, who was a midwife by profession, and patiently submitted to the\nhousehold drudgery which she unsparingly imposed on him. Once, however,\nshe succeeded in goading him into a passion; and on being rather\ninopportunely reminded of his professed principles by a bystander,\nthe sceptic tartly replied that a wretched woman like that was no\nfit subject for a display of philosophical indifference. On another\noccasion, when taunted for losing his self-possession at the attack of\na furious dog, he observed, with truth, that, after all, philosophers\nare human beings.[228]\n\nThus we find Pyrrho competing with the dogmatists as a practical\nmoralist, and offering to secure the inward tranquillity at which\nthey too aimed by an easier method than theirs. The last eminent\nrepresentative of the sceptical school, Sextus Empiricus, illustrates\nits pretensions in this respect by the well-known story of Apelles,\nwho, after vainly endeavouring to paint the foam on a horse\u2019s mouth,\ntook the sponge which he used to wipe his easel, and threw it at\nthe picture in vexation. The mixture of colours thus accidentally\napplied produced the exact effect which he desired, but at which no\ncalculation could arrive. In like manner, says Sextus, the confusion\nof universal doubt accidentally resulted in the imperturbability which\naccompanies suspense of judgment as surely as a body is followed by\nits shadow.[229] There was, however, no accident about the matter at\nall. The abandonment of those studies which related to the external\nworld was a consequence of the ever-increasing attention paid to\nhuman interests, and that these could be best consulted by complete\ndetachment from outward circumstances, was a conclusion inevitably\nsuggested by the negative or antithetical moment of Greek thought.\nHence, while the individualistic and apathetic tendencies of the age\nwere shared by every philosophical school, they had a closer logical\nconnexion with the idealistic than with the naturalistic method;\nand so it is among the successors of Protagoras that we find them\ndeveloped with the greatest distinctness; while their incorporation\nwith Stoicism imposed a self-contradictory strain on that system\nwhich it never succeeded in shaking off. Epicureanism occupied a\nposition midway between the two extremes; and from this point of view,\nwe shall be better able to understand both its inherent weakness as\ncompared with the other ancient philosophies, and the admiration which\nit has attracted from opposite quarters in recent years. To some\nit is most interesting as a revelation of law in Nature, to others\nas a message of deliverance to man\u2014not merely a deliverance from\nignorance and passion, such as its rivals had promised, but from all\nestablished systems, whether religious, political, or scientific. And\nunquestionably Epicurus did endeavour to combine both points of view\nin his theory of life. In seeking to base morality on a knowledge of\nnatural law he resembles the Stoics. In his attacks on fatalism, in\nhis refusal to be bound down by a rigorously scientific explanation of\nphenomena, in his failure to recognise the unity and power of Nature,\nand in his preference of sense to reason, he partially reproduces the\nnegative side of Scepticism; in his identification of happiness with\nthe tranquil and imperturbable self-possession of mind, in his mild\nhumanism, and in his compliance with the established religion of the\nland, he entirely reproduces its positive ethical teaching. On the\nother hand, the two sides of his philosophy, so far from completing,\ninterfere with and mar one another. Emancipation from the outward world\nwould have been far more effectually obtained by a total rejection of\nphysical science than by the construction of a theory whose details\nwere, on any scientific principles, demonstrably untrue. The appeal\nto natural instinct as an argument for hedonism would, consistently\nfollowed out, have led to one of two conclusions, either of which is\nincompatible with the principle that imperturbability is the highest\ngood. If natural instinct, as manifested by brutes, by children, and\nby savages, be the one sure guide of action, then Callicles was right,\nand the habitual indulgence of passion is wiser than its systematic\nrestraint. But if Nature is to be studied on a more specific and\ndiscriminating plan, if there are human as distinguished from merely\nanimal impulses, and if the higher development of these should be our\nrule of life, then Plato and Aristotle and the Stoics were right, and\nthe rational faculties should be cultivated for their own sake, not\nbecause of the immunity from superstitious terrors which they secure.\nAnd we may add that the attendance on public worship practised by\nEpicurus agreed much better with the sceptical suspense of judgment\ntouching divine providence than with its absolute negation, whether\naccompanied or not by a belief in gods who are indifferent to sacrifice\nand prayer.\n\nIt was, no doubt, for these and similar reasons that all the most\nvigorous intellects of Hellas ranged themselves either on the Stoic or\non the Sceptic side, leaving the halfhearted compromise of Epicurus\nto those who could not think out any one theory consistently, or who,\nlike the Romans at first, were not acquainted with any system but his.\nHenceforth, during a period of some centuries, the whole philosophic\nmovement is determined by the interaction of these two fundamental\nforces. The first effect of their conflict was to impose on Scepticism\nan important modification, illustrating its essentially parasitic\ncharacter. We have seen it, as a general tendency of the Greek mind,\nclinging to the very texture of mythology, accompanying the earliest\nsystematic compilation of facts, aiding the humanistic attacks on\nphysical science, associated with the first great religious reaction,\noperating as the dialectic of dialectic itself, and finally assuming\nthe form of a shadowy morality, in rivalry with and imitation of\nethical systems based on a positive and substantial doctrine. We have\nnow to trace its metamorphosis into a critical system extending its\nramifications in parallelism with the immense dogmatic structure of\nStoicism, and simultaneously endeavouring to reach the same practical\nresults by a more elastic adaptation to the infirmities of human\nreason and the uncertainties of sensible experience. As such, we\nshall also have to study its influence over the most plastic of Roman\nintellects, the great orator in whose writings Greek philosophy was\nreclothed with something of its ancient charm, so that many who were\ndebarred from admission to the groves and porticoes of Athens have\ncaught an echo of the high debates which once stirred their recesses,\nas they trod the shady slopes of Tusculum under his visionary guidance,\nor followed his searching eyes over the blue waters to Pompeii, while\nhe reasoned on mind and its object, on sense and knowledge, on doubt\nand certainty, with Lucullus and Hortensius, on the sunlight Baian\nshore. It is the history of the New Academy that we shall now proceed\nto trace.\n\n\nV.\n\nWhen we last had occasion to speak of the Platonic school, it was\nrepresented by Polemo, one of the teachers from whose lessons Zeno the\nStoic seems to have compiled his system. Under his superintendence,\nPlatonism had completely abandoned the metaphysical traditions of\nits founder. Physics and dialectics had already been absorbed by\nAristotelianism. Mathematics had passed into the hands of experts.\nNothing remained but the theory of ethics; and, as an ethical teacher,\nPolemo was only distinguished from the Cynics by the elegance and\nmoderation of his tone. Even this narrow standing-ground became\nuntenable when exposed to the formidable competition of Stoicism. The\nprecept, Follow Nature, borrowed by the new philosophy from Polemo,\nacquired a far deeper significance than he could give it, when viewed\nin the light of an elaborate physical system showing what Nature was,\nand whither her guidance led. But stone after stone had been removed\nfrom the Platonic superstructure and built into the walls of other\nedifices, only to bring its original foundation the more prominently\ninto sight. This was the initial doubt of Socrates, widened into the\nconfession of universal ignorance attributed to him by Plato in the\n_Apologia_. Only by returning to the exclusively critical attitude\nwith which its founder had begun could the Academy hope to exercise\nany influence on the subsequent course of Greek speculation. And it\nwas also necessary that the agnostic standpoint should be taken much\nmore in earnest by its new representatives than by Socrates or Plato.\nWith them it had been merely the preparation for a dogmatism even more\nself-confident than that of the masters against whom they fought; but\nif in their time such a change of front might seem compatible with\nthe retention of their old strongholds, matters now stood on a widely\ndifferent footing. Experience had shown that the purely critical\nposition could not be abandoned without falling back on some one or\nother of the old philosophies, or advancing pretensions inconsistent\nwith the dialectic which had been illustrated by their overthrow. The\ncourse marked out for Plato\u2019s successors by the necessities of thought\nmight have been less evident had not Pyrrhonism suddenly revealed\nto them where their opportunities lay, and at the same time, by its\nextinction as an independent school, allowed them to step into the\nvacant place.\n\nIt was at this juncture that the voluntary withdrawal of an older\nfellow-pupil placed Arcesilaus at the head of the Academy. The date of\nhis accession is not given, but we are told that he died 241 or 240\nB.C. in the seventy-fifth year of his age. He must, therefore, have\nflourished a generation later than Zeno and Epicurus. Accomplished,\nwitty, and generous, his life is described by some as considerably less\naustere than that of the excellent nonentities whom he succeeded. Yet\nits general goodness was testified to by no less an authority than his\ncontemporary, the noble Stoic, Cleanthes. \u2018Do not blame Arcesilaus,\u2019\nexclaimed the latter to an unfriendly critic; \u2018if he denies duty\nin his words, he affirms it in his deeds.\u2019 \u2018You don\u2019t flatter me,\u2018\nobserved Arcesilaus. \u2018It is flattering you,\u2019 rejoined Cleanthes, \u2018to\nsay that your actions belie your words.\u2019[230] It might be inferred from\nthis anecdote that the scepticism of the new teacher, like that of\nCarneades after him, was occasionally exercised on moral distinctions,\nwhich, as then defined and deduced, were assuredly open to very serious\ncriticism. Even so, in following the conventional standard of the age,\nhe would have been acting in perfect consistency with the principles\nof his school. But, as a matter of fact, his attacks seem to have been\nexclusively aimed at the Stoic criterion of certainty. We have touched\non this difficult subject in a former chapter, but the present seems a\nmore favourable opportunity for setting it forth in proper detail.\n\nThe Stoics held, as Mr. Herbert Spencer, who resembles them in so\nmany respects, now holds, that all knowledge is ultimately produced\nby the action of the object on the subject. Being convinced, however,\nthat each single perception, as such, is fallible, they sought for\nthe criterion of certainty in the repetition and combination of\nindividual impressions; and, again like Mr. Spencer, but also in\ncomplete accordance with their dynamic theory of Nature, they estimated\nthe validity of a belief by the degree of tenacity with which it is\nheld. The various stages of assurance were carefully distinguished\nand arranged in an ascending series. First came simple perception,\nthen simple assent, thirdly, comprehension, and finally demonstrative\nscience. These mental acts were respectively typified by extending the\nforefinger, by bending it as in the gesture of beckoning, by clenching\nthe fist, and by placing it, thus clenched, in the grasp of the other\nhand. From another point of view, they defined a true conviction as\nthat which can only be produced by the action of a corresponding real\nobject on the mind. This theory was complicated still further by the\nStoic interpretation of judgment as a voluntary act; by the ethical\nsignificance which it consequently received; and by the concentration\nof all wisdom in the person of an ideal sage. The unreserved bestowal\nof belief is a practical postulate dictated by the necessities of life;\nbut only he who knows what those necessities are, in other words only\nthe wise man, knows when the postulate is to be enforced. In short, the\ncriterion of your being right is your conviction that you are right,\nand this conviction, if you really possess it, is a sufficient witness\nto its own veracity. Or again, it is the nature of man to act rightly,\nand he cannot do so unless he has right beliefs, confirmed and clinched\nby the consciousness that they are right.\n\nArcesilaus left no writings, and his criticisms on the Stoic theory, as\nreported by Cicero and Sextus Empiricus, have a somewhat unsatisfactory\nappearance. By what we can make out, he seems to have insisted on the\ninfallibility of the wise man to a much greater extent than the Stoics\nthemselves, not allowing that there was any class of judgments in which\nhe was liable to be mistaken. But just as the Stoics were obliged to\naccept suicide as an indispensable safeguard for the inviolability\nof their personal dignity and happiness, so also Arcesilaus had\nrecourse to a kind of intellectual suicide for the purpose of securing\nimmunity from error. The only way, according to him, in which the sage\ncan make sure of never being mistaken is never to be certain about\nanything. For, granting that every mental representation is produced\nby a corresponding object in the external world, still different\nobjects are connected by such a number of insensible gradations that\nthe impressions produced by them are virtually indistinguishable\nfrom one another; while a fertile source of illusions also exists\nin the diversity of impressions produced by the same object acting\non different senses and at different times. Moreover, the Stoics\nthemselves admitted that the sage might form a mistaken opinion; it\nwas only for his convictions that they claimed unerring accuracy, each\nof the two\u2014opinion and conviction\u2014being the product of a distinct\nintellectual energy. Here again, Arcesilaus employed his method of\ninfinitesimal transitions, refusing to admit that the various cognitive\nfaculties could be separated by any hard and fast line; especially\nas, according to the theory then held by all parties, and by none\nmore strongly than the Stoics, intellectual conceptions are derived\nexclusively from the data of sense and imagination. We can see that the\nlogic of Scepticism is, equally with that of the other Greek systems,\ndetermined by the three fundamental moments of Greek thought. There\nis first the careful circumscription of certainty; then there is the\nmediating process by which it is insensibly connected with error;\nand, lastly, as a result of this process, there is the antithetical\nopposition of a negative to an affirmative proposition on every\npossible subject of mental representation.[231]\n\nTo the objection that his suspensive attitude would render action\nimpossible, Arcesilaus replied that any mental representation was\nsufficient to set the will in motion; and that, in choosing between\ndifferent courses, probability was the most rational means of\ndetermination. But the task of reducing probable evidence to a system\nwas reserved for a still abler dialectician, who did not appear on the\nscene until a century after his time. Arcesilaus is commonly called the\nfounder of the Middle, Carneades the founder of the New Academy. The\ndistinction is, however, purely nominal. Carneades founded nothing.\nHis principles were identical with those of his predecessor; and his\nclaim to be considered the greatest of the Greek sceptics is due to his\nhaving given those principles a wider application and a more systematic\ndevelopment. The Stoics regarded it as a special dispensation of\nprovidence that Chrysippus, the organising genius of their school,\nshould have come between its two most formidable opponents, being\nthus placed in a position to answer the objections of the one and to\nrefute by anticipation those of the other.[232] It might seem to less\nprejudiced observers that the thinker whose cause benefited most by\nthis arrangement was Carneades. Parodying a well-known iambic, he used\nto say:\n\n  \u2018Without Chrysippus I should not have been.\u2019[233]\n\nAnd, in fact, it was by a close study of that writer\u2019s voluminous\ntreatises that he was able to cover the immense extent of ground\nwhich Scepticism thenceforward disputed with the dogmatic schools.\nNor were his attacks directed against Stoicism only, but against all\nother positive systems past and present as well. What he says about\nthe supposed foundation of knowledge is even now an unanswerable\nobjection to the transcendental realism of Mr Herbert Spencer. States\nof consciousness speak for themselves alone, they do not include the\nconsciousness of an external cause.[234] But the grounds on which he\nrests his negation of all certainty are still superficial enough,\nbeing merely those sensible illusions which the modern science of\nobservation has been able either to eliminate altogether or to restrict\nwithin narrow and definable limits. That phenomena, so far from being\nnecessarily referred to a cause which is not phenomenal, cannot be\nthought of at all except in relation to one another, and that knowledge\nmeans nothing more than a consciousness of this relation, was hardly\nperceived before the time of Hume.\n\nTurning from sense to reason, Carneades attacks the syllogistic process\non grounds already specified in connexion with the earlier Sceptics;\nand also on the plea that to prove the possibility of syllogism is\nitself to syllogise, and thus involves either a _petitio principii_\nor a regress _ad infinitum_.[235] Such a method is, of course,\nsuicidal, for it disproves the possibility of the alleged disproof,\na consideration which the Stoics did not fail to urge, and which the\nlater Sceptics could only meet by extending the rule of suspense to\ntheir own arguments against argument.[236] Nevertheless the sceptical\nanalysis detected some difficulties in the ordinary theory of logic,\nwhich have been revived in modern times, and have not yet received\nany satisfactory solution. Sextus Empiricus, probably copying an\nearlier authority, it may be Carneades himself, observes that, as\nthe major premise of every syllogism virtually contains the minor,\nit is either superfluous, or assumes the proposition to be proved.\nThus we argue that Socrates is an animal because he is a man, and all\nmen are animals. But if we do not know this latter proposition to be\ntrue in the case of Socrates, we cannot be sure that it is true in\nany case; while if we know it to be true in his case, we do not need\nto begin by stating it in general terms. And he also attempts to show\nthe impossibility of a valid induction by the consideration, since so\noften urged, that to generalise from a limited number of instances\nto a whole class is unsafe, for some of the unknown instances may be\ncontradictory, while the infinite, or at least indefinite multiplicity\nof individuals precludes the possibility of their exhaustive\nenumeration.[237]\n\nWhen the Academicians pass from the form to the matter of dogmatic\nphilosophy, their criticisms acquire greater interest and greater\nweight. On this ground, their assaults are principally directed\nagainst the theology of their Stoic and Epicurean rivals. It is here\nin particular that Carneades reveals himself to us as the Hume of\nantiquity. Never has the case for agnosticism been more powerfully\nmade out than by him or by the disciples whom he inspired. To the\nargument for the existence of supernatural beings derived from\nuniversal consent, he replies, first, that the opinion of the vulgar\nis worthless, and secondly, that men\u2019s beliefs about the gods are\nhopelessly at variance with one another, even the same divinity being\nmade the subject of numberless discordant legends.[238] He reduces\nthe polytheistic deification of natural objects to an absurdity\nby forcing it back through a series of insensible gradations into\nabsolute fetichism.[239] The personification of mental qualities\nis similarly treated, until an hypothesis is provided for every\npassing mood.[240] Then, turning to the more philosophical deism of\nthe Stoics, he assails their theory of the divine benevolence with\ninstance after instance of the apparent malevolence and iniquity to\nbe found in Nature; vividly reminding one of the facts adduced by Mr.\nHerbert Spencer in confutation of the similar views held by modern\nEnglish theologians.[241] As against the whole theory of final causes,\nCarneades argues after a method which, though logically sound, could\nnot then present itself with the authority which advancing science\nhas more recently shown it to possess. \u2018What you Stoics,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018explain as the result of conscious purpose, other philosophers, like\nStrato for instance, explain with equal plausibility as the result of\nnatural causation. And such is our ignorance of the forces at work in\nNature that even where no mechanical cause can be assigned, it would\nbe presumptuous to maintain that none can exist.[242] The reign of law\ndoes not necessarily prove the presence of intelligence; it is merely\nthe evidence of a uniform movement quite consistent with all that we\nknow about the working of unconscious forces.[243] To contend, with\nSocrates, that the human mind must be derived from a Universal Mind\npervading all Nature would logically involve the transfer of every\nhuman attribute to its original source.[244] And to say that the\nSupreme Being, because it surpasses man, must possess an intelligence\nlike his, is no more rational than to make the same assumption with\nregard to a great city because it is superior to an ant.\u2019[245]\n\nThe materialism of his dogmatic contemporaries placed them at a\nterrible disadvantage when the sceptical successor of Plato went\non to show that eternal duration is incompatible with whatever we\nknow about the constitution of corporeal substance; and this part\nof his argument applied as much to the Epicurean as to the Stoic\nreligion.[246] But even a spiritualistic monotheism is not safe from\nhis dissolving criticism. According to Carneades, a god without senses\nhas no experience of whatever pleasurable or painful feelings accompany\nsensation, and is therefore, to that extent, more ignorant than a man;\nwhile to suppose that he experiences painful sensations is the same\nas making him obnoxious to the diminished vitality and eventual death\nwith which they are naturally associated. And, generally speaking,\nall sensation involves a modification of the sentient subject by an\nexternal object, a condition necessarily implying the destructibility\nof the former by the latter.[247] So also, moral goodness is an\nessentially relative quality, inconceivable without the possibility\nof succumbing to temptation, which we cannot attribute to a perfect\nBeing.[248] In a word, whatever belongs to conscious life being\nrelative and conditioned, personality is excluded from the absolute by\nits very definition.\n\nAs to the proofs of divine agency derived from divination, they are\nboth irrational and weak. If all things are predetermined by God\u2019s\nprovidence, knowledge of the future is useless, and, therefore, cannot\nhave been given to us. Moreover, no confidence can be placed in the\nalleged fulfilments of prophecy; probably most of them are fictitious\nand the remainder accidental. For the rest, good luck is distributed\nwithout regard to merit; and the general corruption of mankind shows\nthat, from the Stoic point of view, human nature is a complete\nfailure.[249]\n\nWell may M. Havet say of the Academicians: \u2018ce sont eux et non les\npartisans d\u2019Epicure qui sont les libres penseurs de l\u2019antiquit\u00e9 ou\nqui l\u2019auraient voulu \u00eatre; mais ils ne le pouvaient pas.\u2019[250] They\ncould not, for their principles were as inconsistent with an absolute\nnegation as with an absolute affirmation; while in practice their rule\nwas, as we have said, conformity to the custom of the country; the\nconsequence of which was that Sceptics and Epicureans were equally\nassiduous in their attendance at public worship. It is, therefore,\nwith perfect dramatic appropriateness that Cicero puts the arguments\nof Carneades into the mouth of Cotta, the Pontifex Maximus; and,\nalthough himself an augur, takes the negative side in a discussion on\ndivination with his brother Quintus. And our other great authority on\nthe sceptical side, Sextus Empiricus, is not less emphatic than Cotta\nin protesting his devotion to the traditional religion of the land.[251]\n\nWe have seen with what freedom Carneades discussed the foundations of\nmorality. It is now evident that in so doing he did not exceed the\nlegitimate functions of criticism. No one at the present day looks\non Prof. Bain and Mr. Henry Sidgwick as dangerous teachers because\nthey have made it clear that to pursue the greatest happiness of the\ngreatest number is not always the way to secure a maximum of happiness\nfor oneself. The really dangerous method, as we now see, is to foster\nillusions in early life which subsequent experience must dispel.\n\nWith the introduction of practical questions, we pass to the great\npositive achievement of Carneades, his theory of probable evidence.\nIntended as an account of the process by which belief is adjusted\nto safe action rather than of the process by which it is brought\ninto agreement with reality, his logic is a systematisation of the\nprinciples by which prudent men are unconsciously guided in common\nlife. Carneades distinguishes three degrees of probability. The lowest\nis attached to simple perception. This arises when we receive the\nimpression of an object without taking the attendant circumstances\ninto account. The next step is reached when our first impression is\nconfirmed by the similar impressions received from its attendant\ncircumstances; and when each of these, again, bears the test of a\nsimilar examination our assurance is complete. The first belief is\nsimply probable; the second is probable and uncontradicted; the third\nprobable, uncontradicted, and methodically established. The example\ngiven by Sextus is that of a person who on seeing a coil of rope in a\ndark passage thinks that it may be a snake, and jumps over it, but on\nturning round and observing that it remains motionless feels inclined\nto form a different opinion. Remembering, however, that snakes are\nsometimes congealed by cold in winter, he touches the coil with his\nstick, and finally satisfies himself by means of this test that the\nimage present to his mind does not really represent a snake. The\ncircumstances to be examined before arriving at a definite judgment\ninclude such considerations as whether our senses are in a healthy\ncondition, whether we are wide awake, whether the air is clear, whether\nthe object is steady, and whether we have taken time enough to be\nsure that the conditions here specified are fulfilled. Each degree of\nprobability is, again, divisible into several gradations according\nto the strength of the impressions received and the greater or less\nconsilience of all the circumstances involved.[252]\n\nThe Academic theory of probability bears some resemblance to the\nCanonic of Epicurus, and may have been partially suggested by it. Both\nare distinguished from the Aristotelian and Stoic logic by the care\nwith which they provide for the absence of contradictory evidence.\nIn this point, however, the superiority of Carneades to Epicurus\nis very marked. It is not enough for him that a present impression\nshould suggest a belief not inconsistent with past experience; in the\ntrue inductive spirit, he expressly searches for negative instances,\nand recommends the employment of experiment for this purpose. Still\nmore philosophical is the careful and repeated analysis of attendant\ncircumstances, a precaution not paralleled by anything in the slovenly\nmethod of his predecessor. Here the great value of scepticism as an\nelement in mental training becomes at once apparent. The extreme\nfallibility of the _intellectus sibi permissus_ had to be established\nbefore precautions could be adopted for its restraint. But the\nevidence accepted in proof of this fallibility has been very different\nat different times, and has itself given rise to more than one\nfallacious interpretation. With us it is, for the most part, furnished\nby experience. The circumstance that many demonstrable errors were\nformerly received as truths is quite sufficient to put us on our guard\nagainst untested opinions. With Bacon, it was not the erroneousness\nof previous systems, but their barrenness and immobility, which led\nhim to question the soundness of their logic; and his doubts were\nconfirmed by an analysis of the disturbing influences under which men\u2019s\njudgments are formed. The ancient Sceptics were governed entirely by\n_\u00e0 priori_ considerations. Finding themselves confronted by an immense\nmass of contradictory opinions, they argued that some of these must be\nfalse as all could not possibly be true. And an analysis of the human\nfaculties led them, equally on _\u00e0 priori_ grounds, to the conclusion\nthat these irreconcilable divergences were but the result and the\nreproduction of an interminable conflict carried on within the mind\nitself. They could not foresee how much time would do towards reducing\nthe disagreement of educated opinion within a narrower compass. They\ndid not know what the experience of experience itself would teach.\nAnd their criticisms on the logic and metaphysics of their opponents\nwere rendered inconclusive, as against all certainty, by the extent to\nwhich they shared that logic and metaphysics themselves. Carneades, at\nleast, seems to assume throughout that all existence is material, that\nthere is a sharp distinction between subject and object in knowledge,\nand that there is an equally sharp distinction between sensation and\nreasoning in the processes by which knowledge is obtained. In like\nmanner, his ethical scepticism all turns on the axiom, also shared by\nhim with the Stoics, that for a man to be actuated by any motive but\nhis own interest is mere folly.\n\nModern agnosticism occupies the same position with regard to the\npresent foundation and possible future extension of human knowledge as\nwas occupied by the ancient Sceptics with regard to the possibility of\nall knowledge. Its conclusions also are based on a very insufficient\nexperience of what can be effected by experience, and on an analysis of\ncognition largely adopted from the system which it seeks to overthrow.\nLike Scepticism also, when logically thought out, it tends to issue\nin a self-contradiction, at one time affirming the consciousness of\nwhat is, by definition, beyond consciousness; and at another time\ndogmatically determining the points on which we must remain for ever\nignorant. It may be that some problems, as stated by modern thinkers,\nare insoluble; but perhaps we may find our way our of them by\ntransforming the question to be solved.\n\nIf, in the domain of pure speculation, contemporary agnosticism\nexaggerates the existing divergences, in ethics its whole effort is,\ncontrariwise, to reduce and reconcile them. Such was also the tendency\nof Carneades. He declared that, in their controversy about the highest\ngood, the difference between the Stoics and the Peripatetics was purely\nverbal. Both held that we are naturally framed for the pursuit of\ncertain objects, and that virtuous living is the only means by which\nthey can be attained. But while the disciples of Aristotle held that\nthe satisfaction of our natural impulses remains from first to last\nthe only end, the disciples of Zeno insisted that at some point\u2014not,\nas would seem very particularly specified\u2014virtuous conduct, which was\noriginally the means towards this satisfaction, becomes substituted\nfor it as the supreme and ultimate good.[253] That the point at issue\nwas more important than it seemed is evident from its reproduction\nunder another form in modern ethical philosophy. For, among ourselves,\nthe controversy between utilitarianism and what, for want of a better\nname, we must call intuitionism, is gradually narrowing itself to the\nquestion whether the pursuit of another\u2019s good has or has not a higher\nvalue than the quantity of pleasure which accrues to him from it,\n_plus_ the effects of a good example and the benefits that society at\nlarge is likely to gain from the strength which exercise gives to the\naltruistic dispositions of one of its members. Those who attribute an\nabsolute value to altruism, as such, connect this value in some way\nor other with the spiritual welfare of the agent; and they hold that\nwithout such a gain to himself he would gradually fall back on a life\nof calculating selfishness or of unregulated impulse. Here we have the\nreturn from a social to an individual morality. The Stoics, conversely,\nwere feeling their way from the good of the individual to that of the\ncommunity; and they could only bridge the chasm by converting what\nhad originally been a means towards self-preservation into an end in\nitself. This Carneades could not see. Convinced that happiness was both\nnecessary and attainable, but convinced also that the systems which\nhad hitherto offered it as their reward were logically untenable, he\nwished to place morality on the broad basis of what was held in common\nby all schools, and this seemed to be the rule of obedience to Nature\u2019s\ndictates,\u2014a rule which had also the great merit of bidding men do in\nthe name of philosophy what they already felt inclined to do without\nany philosophy at all. We are told, indeed, that he would not commit\nhimself to any particular system of ethics; the inference, however, is\nnot that he ignored the necessity of a moral law, but that he wished to\nextricate it from a compromising alliance with untenable speculative\ndogmas. Nevertheless his acceptance of Nature as a real entity was a\nsurvival of metaphysics; and his morality was, so far as it went, an\nincipient return to the traditions of the Old Academy.\n\n\nVI.\n\nWe have now reached a point where Greek philosophy seems to have swung\nback into the position which it occupied three hundred years before,\ntowards the close of the Peloponnesian War. The ground is again\ndivided between naturalists and humanists, the one school offering\nan encyclopaedic training in physical science and exact philology,\nthe other literary, sceptical, and limiting its attention to the\nmore immediate interests of life; but both agreeing in the supreme\nimportance of conduct, and differing chiefly as to whether its basis\nshould or should not be sought in a knowledge of the external world.\nMaterialism is again in the ascendant, to this extent at least, that\nno other theory is contemplated by the students of physical science;\nwhile the promise of a spiritualistic creed is to be found, if at all,\nin the school whose scepticism throws it back on the subjective sphere,\nthe invisible and impalpable world of mind. The attitude of philosophy\ntowards religion has, indeed, undergone a marked change; for the Stoic\nnaturalists count themselves among the most strenuous supporters of\nbeliefs and practices which their Sophistic predecessors had contemned,\nwhile the humanist criticism is cautiously guarded by at least an\nexternal conformity to established usage; but the Platonic doctrine of\nimmortality has disappeared with the dogmatic spiritualism on which it\nrested; and faith in superior beings tends to dissociate itself from\nmorality, or to become identified with a simple belief in the fixity of\nnatural law.\n\nWhenever naturalism and scepticism have thus stood opposed, the result\nhas been their transformation or absorption into a new philosophy,\ncombining the systematic formalism of the one with the introspective\nidealism of the other. In Greece such a revolution had already been\neffected once before by Plato; and a restoration of his system seemed\nthe most obvious solution that could offer itself on the present\noccasion. Such was, in fact, the solution eventually adopted; what\nwe have to explain is why its adoption was delayed so long. For\nthis various reasons may be offered. To begin with, the speculative\nlanguor of the age was unfavourable to the rise of a new school.\nGreece was almost depopulated by the demands of foreign service; and\nat Alexandria, where a new centre of Hellenism had been created, its\nbest energies were absorbed by the cultivation of positive science.\nIt was, no doubt, in great part owing to the dearth of ability that\nideas which, at an earlier period, would have been immediately taken\nup and developed, were allowed to remain stationary for a hundred\nyears\u2014the interval separating a Carneades from an Arcesilaus. The\nregular organisation of philosophical teaching was another hindrance\nto progress. A certain amount of property was annexed to the headships\nof the different schools, and served as an endowment, not of research\nbut of contented acquiescence in the received traditions. Moreover, the\njealousy with which the professors of rival doctrines would naturally\nregard one another, was likely to prevent their mutual approximation\nfrom going beyond certain not very close limits, and might even lead\nto a still severer definition of the characteristic tenets which\nstill kept them apart. Another and deeper disturbing force lay in the\ndissensions which, at a very early stage of its development, had split\nthe spiritualistic philosophy into two opposing tendencies respectively\nrepresented by Plato and Aristotle. Any thinker who wandered away\nfrom the principles either of Stoicism or of Scepticism was more\nlikely to find himself bewildered by the conflicting claims of these\ntwo illustrious masters, than to discern the common ground on which\nthey stood, or to bring them within the grasp of a single reconciling\nsystem. Finally, an enormous perturbation in the normal course of\nspeculation was produced by the entrance of Rome on the philosophical\nscene. But before estimating the influence of this new force, we must\nfollow events to the point at which it first becomes of calculable\nimportance.\n\nWe have seen how Carneades, alike in his theory of probability and\nin his ethical eclecticism, had departed from the extreme sceptical\nstandpoint. His successor, Clitomachus, was content with committing\nthe doctrines of the master to writing. A further step was taken by\nthe next Scholarch, Philo, who is known as the Larissaean, in order to\ndistinguish him from his more celebrated namesake, the Alexandrian Jew.\nThis philosopher asserted that the negations of the New Academy were\nnot to be taken as a profession of absolute scepticism, but merely as\na criticism on the untenable pretensions of the Stoa. His own position\nwas that, as a matter of fact, we have some certain knowledge of\nthe external world, but that no logical account can be given of the\nprocess by which it is obtained\u2014we can only say that such an assurance\nhas been naturally stamped on our minds.[254] This is the theory of\nintuitions or innate ideas, still held by many persons; and, as such,\nit marks a return to pure Platonism, having been evidently suggested\nby the semi-mythological fancies of the _Meno_ and the _Phaedrus_.\nWith Philo as with those Scotch professors who long afterwards took up\nsubstantially the same position, the leading motive was a practical\none, the necessity of placing morality on some stronger ground than\nthat of mere probability. Neither he nor his imitators saw that if\nethical principles are self-evident, they need no objective support; if\nthey are derivative and contingent, they cannot impart to metaphysics\na certainty which they do not independently possess. The return to\nthe old Academic standpoint was completed by a much more vigorous\nthinker than Philo, his pupil, opponent, and eventual successor,\nAntiochus. So far from attempting any compromise with the Sceptics,\nthis philosopher openly declared that they had led the school away from\nits true traditions; and claimed for his own teaching the merit of\nreproducing the original doctrine of Plato.[255] In reality, he was, as\nZeller has shown, an eclectic.[256] It is by arguments borrowed from\nStoicism that he vindicates the certainty of human knowledge. Pushing\nthe practical postulate to its logical conclusion, he maintains, not\nonly that we are in possession of the truth, but also\u2014what Philo had\ndenied\u2014that true beliefs bear on their face the evidence by which they\nare distinguished from illusions. Admitting that the senses are liable\nto error, he asserts the possibility of rectifying their mistakes, and\nof reasoning from a subjective impression to its objective cause. The\nSceptical negation of truth he meets with the familiar argument that it\nis suicidal, for to be convinced that there can be no conviction is a\ncontradiction in terms; while to argue that truth is indistinguishable\nfrom falsehood implies an illogical confidence in the validity of\nlogical processes; besides involving the assumption that there are\nfalse appearances and that they are known to us as such, which would\nbe impossible unless we were in a position to compare them with the\ncorresponding truths.[257] For his own part, Antiochus adopted without\nalteration the empirical theory of Chrysippus, according to which\nknowledge is elaborated by reflection out of the materials supplied\nby sense. His physics were also those of Stoicism with a slight\nPeripatetic admixture, but without any modification of their purely\nmaterialistic character. In ethics he remained truer to the Academic\ntradition, refusing to follow the Stoics in their absolute isolation\nof virtue from vice, and of happiness from external circumstances,\ninvolving as it did the equality of all transgressions and the\nworthlessness of worldly goods. But the disciples of the Porch had\nmade such large concessions to common sense by their theories of\npreference and of progress, that even here there was very little left\nto distinguish his teaching from theirs.[258]\n\nMeanwhile a series of Stoic thinkers had also been feeling their\nway towards a compromise with Plato and Aristotle, which, so far as\nit went, was a step in the direction of spiritualism. We have seen,\nin a former chapter, how one of the great distinguishing marks of\nStoicism, as compared with the systems immediately preceding it, was\nthe substitution of a pervading monism for their antithesis between God\nand the world, between heaven and earth, between reason and sense. It\nwill be remembered also that this monistic creed was associated with\na return to the Heracleitean theory that the world is periodically\ndestroyed by fire. Now, with reference to three out of these four\npoints, Bo\u00eathus, a Stoic contemporary of Carneades, returned to the\nAristotelian doctrine. While still holding to the materialism of\nhis own school, including a belief in the corporeal nature of the\ndivinity, he separated God from the world, and represented him as\ngoverning its movements from without; the world itself he maintained\nto be eternal; and in the mind of man he recognised reason or nous as\nan independent source of conviction. In his cosmology, Bo\u00eathus was\nfollowed by a more celebrated master, Panaetius, who also adopted the\nAristotelian rationalism so far as to deny the continued existence of\nthe soul after death, and to repudiate the belief in divination which\nStoicism had borrowed from popular superstition; while in psychology\nhe partially restored the distinction between life and mind which had\nbeen obliterated by his predecessors.[259] The dualistic theory of mind\nwas carried still further by Posidonius, the most eminent Stoic of the\nfirst century B.C. This very learned and accomplished master, while\nreturning in other points to a stricter orthodoxy, was led to admit\nthe Platonic distinction between reason and passion, and to make it\nthe basis of his ethical system.[260] But the Platonising tendencies\nof Posidonius had no more power than those of Antiochus to effect\na true spiritualistic revival, since neither they nor any of their\ncontemporaries had any genius for metaphysical speculation; while the\nincreased attention paid to Aristotle did not extend to the fundamental\nprinciples of his system, which, even within the Peripatetic school,\nwere so misconceived as to be interpreted in a thoroughly materialistic\nsense.[261]\n\nA distinct parallelism may be traced in the lines of evolution\nalong which we have accompanied our two opposing schools. While the\nAcademicians were coming over to the Stoic theory of cognition, the\nStoics themselves were moving in the same general direction, and\nseeking for an external reality more in consonance with their notions\nof certainty than the philosophy of their first teachers could supply.\nFor, as originally constituted, Stoicism included a large element\nof scepticism, which must often have laid its advocates open to the\ncharge of inconsistency from those who accepted the same principle in\na more undiluted form. The Heracleitean flux adopted by Zeno as the\nphysical basis of his system, was much better suited to a sceptical\nthan to a dogmatic philosophy, as the use to which it was put by\nProtagoras and Plato sufficiently proved; and this was probably the\nreason why Bo\u00eathus and Panaetius partially discarded it in favour\nof a more stable cosmology. The dialectical studies of the school\nalso tended to suggest more difficulties than they could remove. The\ncomprehensive systematisation of Chrysippus, like that of Plato and\nAristotle, had for its object the illustration of each topic from\nevery point of view, and especially from the negative as well as\nfrom the positive side. The consequence was that his indefatigable\nerudition had collected a great number of logical puzzles which he\nhad either neglected or found himself unable to solve. There would,\ntherefore, be a growing inclination to substitute a literary and\nrhetorical for a logical training: and as we shall presently see, there\nwas an extraneous influence acting in the same direction. Finally,\nthe rigour of Stoic morality had been strained to such a pitch that\nits professors were driven to admit the complete ideality of virtue.\nTheir sage had never shown himself on earth, at least within the\nhistorical period; and the whole world of human interests being, from\nthe rational point of view, either a delusion or a failure, stood in\npermanent contradiction to their optimistic theory of Nature. The\nSceptics were quite aware of this practical approximation to their\nown views, and sometimes took advantage of it to turn the tables on\ntheir opponents with telling effect. Thus, on the occasion of that\nphilosophical embassy with an account of which the present chapter\nbegan, when a noble Roman playfully observed to Carneades, \u2018You must\nthink that I am not a Praetor as I am not a sage, and that Rome is\nneither a city nor a state,\u2019 the great Sceptic replied, turning to his\ncolleague Diogenes, \u2018That is what my Stoic friend here would say.\u2019[262]\nAnd Plutarch, in two sharp attacks on the Stoics, written from the\nAcademic point of view, and probably compiled from documents of a much\nearlier period,[263] charges them with outraging common sense by their\nwholesale practical negations, to at least as great an extent as the\nSceptics outraged it by their suspense of judgment. How the ethical\nsystem of Stoicism was modified so as to meet these criticisms has been\nrelated in a former chapter; and we have just seen how Posidonius,\nby his partial return to the Platonic psychology, with its division\nbetween reason and impulse, contributed to a still further change in\nthe same conciliatory sense.\n\n\nVII.\n\nWe have now reached a point in history where the Greek intellect seems\nto be struck with a partial paralysis, continuing for a century and a\nhalf. During that period, its activity\u2014what there is of it\u2014is shown\nonly in criticism and erudition. There is learning, there is research,\nthere is acuteness, there is even good taste, but originality and\neloquence are extinct. Is it a coincidence, or is it something more,\nthat this interval of sterility should occur simultaneously with the\nmost splendid period of Latin literature, and that the new birth of\nGreek culture should be followed by the decrepitude and death of the\nLatin muse? It is certain that in modern Europe, possessing as it\ndoes so many independent sources of vitality, the flowering-times\nof different countries rarely coincide; England and Spain, from the\nmiddle of the sixteenth to the middle of the seventeenth century,\nbeing the only instances that we can recall of two countries\nalmost simultaneously reaching the highest point of their literary\ndevelopment. Possibly, during the great age of Latin literature, all\nthe most aspiring Greeks found employment as tutors in Roman families;\nwhile the reading public of the West were too much absorbed by the\nmasterpieces composed in their own language, or too elated with\nthe consciousness of a new superiority, to encourage the rivalry of\nthose from whom they had wrested not only poetical independence, but\nalso, what till then had never been disputed with the Greeks, supreme\ndominion in the world of mind. It is, at any rate, significant that\nwhile Greek was the favourite language of Roman lovers in the time of\nLucretius and again in the time of Juvenal, there are no allusions to\nits having been employed by them during the intermediate period.[264]\nBe this as it may, from the fall of the Republic to the time of Trajan,\nphilosophy, like poetry and eloquence\u2014or at least all philosophy that\nwas positive and practical\u2014became domiciled in Rome, and received the\nstamp of the Roman character. How Stoicism was affected by the change\nhas been pointed out in a former chapter. What we have now to study is\nchiefly the reaction of Rome on the Greek mind, and its bearing on the\nsubsequent development of thought.\n\nThis reaction had begun to make itself felt long before the birth of\na philosophical literature in the Latin language. It may be traced to\nthe time when the lecture-halls at Athens were first visited by Roman\nstudents, and Greek professors first received on terms of intimate\ncompanionship into the houses of Roman nobles. In each instance, but\nmore especially in the latter, not only would the pupil imbibe new\nideas from the master, but the master would suit his teaching to the\ntastes and capacities of the pupil. The result would be an intellectual\ncondition somewhat resembling that which attended the popularisation of\nphilosophy in Athens during the latter half of the fifth century B.C.;\nand all the more so as speculation had already spontaneously reverted\nto the Sophistic standpoint. The parallel will be still more complete\nif we take the word Sophist in its original and comprehensive sense. We\nmay then say that while Carneades, with his entrancing eloquence and\nhis readiness to argue both sides of a question, was the Protagoras\nof the new movement; Panaetius, the dignified rationalist and honoured\nfriend of Laelius and the younger Scipio, its Prodicus; and Posidonius,\nthe astronomer and encyclopaedic scholar, its Hippias, Phaedrus the\nEpicurean was its Anaxagoras or Democritus.\n\nThe Epicurean philosophy was, in fact, the first to gain a footing in\nRome; and it thereby acquired a position of comparative equality with\nthe other schools, to which it was not really entitled, but which it\nhas ever since succeeded in maintaining. The new doctrine fell like\na spark on a mass of combustible material. The Romans were full of\ncuriosity about Nature and her workings; full of contempt for the\ndegrading Etruscan superstitions which hampered them at every turn, and\nthe falsity of which was proving too much even for the official gravity\nof their state-appointed interpreters; full of impatience at the Greek\nmythology which was beginning to substitute itself for the severe\nabstractions of their own more spiritual faith;[265] full of loathing\nfor the Asiatic orgies which were being introduced into the highest\nsociety of their own city. Epicureanism offered them a complete and\neasily intelligible theory of the world, which at the same time came\nas a deliverance from supernatural terrors. The consequence was that\nits different parts were thrown out of perspective, and their relative\nimportance almost reversed. Originally framed as an ethical system\nwith certain physical and theological implications, it was interpreted\nby Lucretius, and apparently also by his Roman predecessors,[266] as\na scientific and anti-religious system, with certain references to\nconduct neither very prominently brought forward nor very distinctly\nconceived. And we know from the contents of the papyrus rolls\ndiscovered at Herculaneum, that those who studied the system in its\noriginal sources paid particular attention to the voluminous physical\ntreatises of Epicurus, as well as to the theological works of his\nsuccessors. Nor was this change of front limited to Epicureanism, if,\nas we may suspect, the rationalistic direction taken by Panaetius was\ndue, at least in part, to a similar demand on the side of his Roman\nadmirers.\n\nBut what had happened once before when philosophy was taken up by men\nof the world, repeated itself on this occasion. Attention was diverted\nfrom speculative to ethical problems, or at least to issues lying on\nthe borderland between speculation and practice, such as those relating\nto the criterion of truth and the nature of the highest good. On\nneither of these topics had Epicureanism a consistent answer to give,\nespecially when subjected to the cross-examination of rival schools\neager to secure Roman favour for their own doctrines. Stated under any\nform, the Epicurean morality could not long satisfy the conquerors of\nthe world. To some of them it would seem a shameful dereliction of\nduty, to others an irksome restraint on self-indulgence, while all\nwould be alienated by its declared contempt for the general interests\nof culture and ambition. Add to this that the slightest acquaintance\nwith astronomy, as it was then taught in Hellenic countries, would be\nfatal to a belief in the Epicurean physics, and we shall understand\nthat the cause for which Lucretius contended was already lost before\nhis great poem saw the light.\n\nThe requirements which Epicureanism failed to meet, were, to a\ngreat extent, satisfied by Stoicism. This philosophy had, from a\ncomparatively early period, won the favour of a select class, but had\nbeen temporarily overshadowed by the popularity of its hedonistic and\nanti-religious rival, when a knowledge of the Greek systems first\nbecame diffused through Italy. The uncouth language of the early\nStoics and the apparently unpractical character of their theories\ndoubtless exercised a repellent effect on many who were not out of\nsympathy with their general spirit. These difficulties were overcome\nfirst by Panaetius, and then, to a still greater extent, by Posidonius,\nthe elder contemporary and friend of Pompeius and Cicero, who was\nremarkable not only for his enormous learning but also for his\noratorical talent.[267] It seems probable that the lessons of this\ndistinguished man marked the beginning of that religious reaction\nwhich eventually carried all before it. We have already seen how he\nabandoned the rationalistic direction struck out by his predecessor,\nPanaetius; and his return to the old Stoic orthodoxy may very well have\nresponded to a revival of religious feeling among the educated Roman\npublic, who by this time must have discovered that there were other\nways of escaping from superstition besides a complete rejection of the\nsupernatural.\n\nThe triumph of Stoicism was, however, retarded by the combined\ninfluence of the Academic and Peripatetic schools. Both claimed the\ntheory of a morality founded on natural law as a doctrine of their own,\nborrowed from them without acknowledgment by the Porch, and restated\nunder an offensively paradoxical form. To a Roman, the Academy would\noffer the further attraction of complete immunity from the bondage of a\nspeculative system, freedom of enquiry limited only by the exigencies\nof practical life, and a conveniently elastic interpretation of the\nextent to which popular faiths might be accepted as true. If absolute\nsuspense of judgment jarred on his moral convictions, it was ready\nwith accommodations and concessions. We have seen how the scepticism\nof Carneades was first modified by Philo, and then openly renounced by\nPhilo\u2019s successor, Antiochus. Roman influence may have been at work\nwith both; for Philo spent some time in the capital of the empire,\nwhither he was driven by the events of the first Mithridatic War; while\nAntiochus was the friend of Lucullus and the teacher of Cicero.[268]\n\n\nVIII.\n\nThe greatest of Roman orators and writers was also the first Roman\nthat held opinions of his own in philosophy. How much original thought\noccurs in his voluminous contributions to the literature of the\nsubject is more than we can determine, the Greek authorities on which\nhe drew being known almost exclusively through the references to them\ncontained in his disquisitions. But, judging from the evidence before\nus, carefully sifted as it has been by German scholars, we should\nfeel disposed to assign him a foremost rank among the thinkers of an\nage certainly not distinguished either for fertility or for depth\nof thought. It seems clear that he gave a new basis to the eclectic\ntendencies of his contemporaries, and that this basis was subsequently\naccepted by other philosophers whose speculative capacity has never\nbeen questioned. Cicero describes himself as an adherent of the New\nAcademy, and expressly claims to have reasserted its principles after\nthey had fallen into neglect among the Greeks, more particularly as\nagainst his own old master Antiochus, whose Stoicising theory of\ncognition he agrees with Philo in repudiating.[269] Like Philo also,\nhe bases certainty on the twofold ground of a moral necessity for\nacting on our beliefs,[270] and the existence of moral intuitions, or\nnatural tendencies to believe in the mind itself;[271] or, perhaps,\nmore properly speaking, on the single ground of a moral sense.\nThis, as already stated, was unquestionably a reproduction of the\nPlatonic ideas under their subjective aspect. But in his general\nviews about the nature and limits of human knowledge, Cicero leaves\nthe Academy behind him, and goes back to Socrates. Perhaps no two\nmen of great genius could be more unlike than these two,\u2014for us the\nmost living figures in ancient history if not in all history,\u2014the\nRoman being as much a type of time-servingness and vacillation as the\nAthenian was of consistency and resolute independence. Yet, in its\nmere external results, the philosophy of Socrates is perhaps more\nfaithfully reproduced by Cicero than by any subsequent enquirer; and\nthe differences between them are easily accounted for by the long\ninterval separating their ages from one another. Each set out with\nthe same eager desire to collect knowledge from every quarter; each\nsought above all things for that kind of knowledge which seemed to be\nof the greatest practical importance; and each was led to believe that\nthis did not include speculations relating to the physical world; one\ngreat motive to the partial scepticism professed by both being the\nirreconcilable disagreement of those who had attempted an explanation\nof its mysteries. The deeper ground of man\u2019s ignorance in this respect\nwas stated somewhat differently by each; or perhaps we should say that\nthe same reason is expressed in a mythical form by the one and in a\nscientific form by the other. Socrates held that the nature of things\nis a secret which the gods have reserved for themselves; while, in\nCicero\u2019s opinion, the heavens are so remote, the interior of the earth\nso dark, the mechanism of our own bodies so complicated and subtle, as\nto be placed beyond the reach of fruitful observation.[272] Nor did\nthis deprivation seem any great hardship to either, since, as citizens\nof great and free states, both were pre-eminently interested in the\nstudy of social life; and it is characteristic of their common tendency\nthat both should have been not only great talkers and observers but\nalso great readers of ancient literature.[273]\n\nWith regard to ethics, there is, of course, a great difference between\nthe innovating, creative genius of the Greek and the receptive but\ntimid intelligence of the Roman. Yet the uncertainty which, in the one\ncase, was due to the absence of any fixed system, is equally present in\nthe other, owing to the embarrassment of having so many systems among\nwhich to choose. Three ethical motives were constantly present to the\nthoughts of Socrates: the utility of virtue, from a material point\nof view, to the individual; its social necessity; and its connexion\nwith the dual constitution of man as a being composed of two elements\nwhereof the one is infinitely superior to the other; but he never was\nable, or never attempted to co-ordinate them under a single principle.\nHis successors tried to discover such a principle in the idea of\nnatural law, but could neither establish nor apply it in a satisfactory\nmanner. Cicero reproduces the Socratic elements, sometimes in their\noriginal dispersion and confusion, sometimes with the additional\ncomplication and perplexity introduced by the idea through which it had\nbeen hoped to systematise and reconcile them. To him, indeed, that idea\nwas even more important than to the Greek moralists; for he looked on\nNature as the common ground where philosophy and untrained experience\nmight meet for mutual confirmation and support.[274] We have seen how\nhe adopted the theory\u2014as yet not very clearly formulated\u2014of a moral\nsense, or general faculty of intuition, from Philo. To study and obey\nthe dictates of this faculty, as distinguished from the depraving\ninfluence of custom, was his method of arriving at truth and right.\nBut if, when properly consulted, it always gave the same response, a\nsimilar unanimity might be expected in the doctrines of the various\nphilosophical schools; and the adhesion of Academicians, Peripatetics,\nand Stoics to the precept, Follow Nature, seemed to demonstrate that\nsuch an agreement actually existed. Hence Cicero over and over again\nlabours to prove that their disputes were merely verbal, and that\nStoicism in particular had borrowed its ethics wholesale from his own\nfavourite sect. Yet from time to time their discrepancies would force\nthemselves on his notice; and by none have the differences separating\nStoicism from its rivals been stated with more clearness, concision,\nand point.[275] These relate to the absolute self-sufficingness\nof virtue, its unity, and the incompatibility of emotion with its\nexercise. But Cicero seems to have regarded the theory of preference\nand rejection as a concession to common sense amounting to a surrender\nof whatever was parodoxical and exclusive in the Stoic standpoint.[276]\nAnd with respect to the question round which controversy raged most\nfiercely, namely, whether virtue was the sole or merely the chief\ncondition of happiness, Cicero, as a man of the world, considered that\nit was practically of no consequence which side prevailed.[277] It\nwould be unfair to blame him for not seeing, what the stricter school\nfelt rather than saw, that the happiness associated with goodness was\nnot of an individual but of a social character, and therefore could not\nproperly be compared with objects of purely individual desire, such as\nhealth, wealth, friends, and worldly fame.\n\nBut even taken in its mildest form, there were difficulties about\nGreek idealism which still remained unsolved. They may be summed up in\none word, the necessity of subordinating all personal and passionate\nfeelings to a higher law, whatever the dictates of that law may be. Of\nsuch self-suppression few men were less capable than Cicero. Whether\nvirtue meant the extirpation or merely the moderation of desire and\nemotion, it was equally impossible to one of whom Macaulay has said,\nwith not more severity than truth, that his whole soul was under the\ndominion of a girlish vanity and a craven fear.[278] Such weak and\nwell-intentioned natures almost always take refuge from their sorrows\nand self-reproaches in religion; and probably the religious sentiment\nwas more highly developed in Cicero than in any other thinker of the\nage. Here also a parallel with Socrates naturally suggests itself.\nThe relation between the two amounts to more than a mere analogy;\nfor not only was the intellectual condition of old Athens repeating\nitself in Rome, but the religious opinions of all cultivated Romans\nwho still retained their belief in a providential God, were, to an\neven greater extent than their ethics, derived through Stoicism from\nthe great founder of rational theology. Cicero, like Socrates, views\nGod under the threefold aspect of a creator, a providence, and an\ninforming spirit:\u2014identical in his nature with the soul of man, and\nhaving man for his peculiar care. With regard to the evidence of\nhis existence, the teleological argument derived from the structure\nof organised beings is common to both; the argument from universal\nbelief, doubtless a powerful motive with Socrates, is more distinctly\nput forward by Cicero; and while both regard the heavenly luminaries\nas manifest embodiments of the divine essence, Cicero is led by\nthe traditions of Plato, Aristotle, and the Stoics, to present the\nregularity of their movements as the most convincing revelation of a\nsuperhuman intelligence, and to identify the outermost starry sphere\nwith the highest God of all.[279] Intimately associated with this\nview is his belief in the immortality of the soul, which he supposes\nwill return after death to the eternal and unchangeable sphere whence\nit originally proceeded.[280] But his familiarity with the sceptical\narguments of Carneades prevented Cicero from putting forward his\ntheological beliefs with the same confidence as Socrates; while, at the\nsame time, it enabled him to take up a much more decided attitude of\nhostility towards the popular superstitions from which he was anxious,\nso far as possible, to purify true religion.[281] To sum up: Cicero,\nlike Kant, seems to have been chiefly impressed by two phenomena,\nthe starry heavens without and the moral law within; each in its own\nway giving him the idea of unchanging and everlasting continuance,\nand both testifying to the existence of a power by which all things\nare regulated for the best. But the materialism of his age naturally\nprevented him from regarding the external order as a mere reflex\nor lower manifestation of the inward law by which all spirits feel\nthemselves to be members of the same intelligible community.\n\nWe have illustrated the position of Cicero by reference to the master\nwho, more than any other Greek philosopher, seems to have satisfied his\nideal of perfect wisdom. We must now observe that nothing is better\ncalculated to show how inadequate was the view once universally taken\nof Socrates, and still, perhaps, taken by all who are not scholars,\nthan that it should be applicable in so many points to Cicero as\nwell. For, while the influence of the one on human thought was the\ngreatest ever exercised by a single individual, the influence of the\nother was limited to the acceleration of a movement already in full\nactivity, and moreover tending on the whole in a retrograde direction.\nThe immeasurable superiority of the Athenian lies in his dialectical\nmethod. It was not by a mere elimination of differences that he hoped\nto establish a general agreement, but by reasoning down from admitted\nprinciples, which were themselves to be the result of scientific\ninduction brought to bear on a comprehensive and ever-widening area\nof experience. Hence his scepticism, which was directed against\nauthority, tended as much to stimulate enquiry as that of the Roman\ndeclaimer, which was directed against reason, tended to deaden or to\ndepress it. Hence, also, the political philosophy of Socrates was as\nrevolutionary as that of his imitator was conservative. Both were,\nin a certain sense, aristocrats; but while the aristocracy of the\nelegant rhetorician meant a clique of indolent and incapable nobles,\nthat of the sturdy craftsman meant a band of highly-trained specialists\nmaintained in power by the choice, the confidence, and the willing\nobedience of an intelligent people. And while the religion of Cicero\nwas a blind reliance on providence supplemented by priestcraft in this\nworld, with the hope, if things came to the worst, of a safe retreat\nfrom trouble in the next; the religion of Socrates was an active\nco-operation with the universal mind, an attempt to make reason and the\nwill of God prevail on earth, with the hope, if there was any future\nstate, of carrying on in it the intellectual warfare which alone had\nmade life worth living here. No less a contrast could be expected\nbetween the orator who turned to philosophy only for the occupation of\na leisure hour, or for relief from the pangs of disappointed ambition,\nand the thinker who gave her his whole existence as the elect apostle\nand martyr of her creed.\n\n\nIX.\n\nWe have seen what was the guiding principle of Cicero\u2019s philosophical\nmethod. By interrogating all the systems of his time, he hoped to\nelicit their points of agreement, and to utilise the result for the\npractical purposes of life. As actually applied, the effect of this\nmethod was not to reconcile the current theories with one another,\nnor yet to lay the foundation of a more comprehensive philosophy, but\nto throw back thought on an order of ideas which, from their great\npopularity, had been incorporated with every system in turn, and,\nfor that very reason, seemed to embody the precise points on which\nall were agreed. These were the idea of Nature, the idea of mind or\nreason, and the idea of utility. We have frequently come across them\nin the course of the present work. Here it will suffice to recall the\nfact that they had been first raised to distinct consciousness when\nthe results of early Greek thought were brought into contact with the\nexperiences of Greek life, and more especially of Athenian life, in\nthe age of Pericles. As originally understood, they gave rise to many\ncomplications and cross divisions, arising from what was considered\nto be their mutual incompatibility or equivalence. Thus Nature was\nopenly rejected by the sceptical Sophists, ignored by Socrates, and,\nduring a long period of his career, treated with very little respect\nby Plato; reason, in its more elaborate forms, was slighted by the\nCynics, and employed for its own destruction by the Megarians, in both\ncases as an enemy to utility; while to Aristotle the pure exercise\nof reason was the highest utility of any, and Nature only a lower\nmanifestation of the same idealising process. At a later period, we\nfind Nature accepted as a watchword by Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics\nalike, although, of course, each attached a widely different meaning\nto the term; the supremacy of reason, without whose aid, indeed,\ntheir controversies could not have been carried on, is recognised\nwith similar unanimity; and each sect lays exclusive stress on the\nconnexion of its principles with human happiness, thus making utility\nthe foremost consideration in philosophy. Consequently, to whatever\nsystem a Roman turned, he would recognise the three great regulative\nconceptions of Greek thought, although frequently enveloped in a\nnetwork of fine-spun distinctions and inferences which to him must\nhave seemed neither natural nor reasonable nor useful. On the other\nhand, apart from such subtleties, he could readily translate all three\ninto terms which seemed to show that, so far from being divided by any\nessential incompatibility, they did but represent different aspects\nof a single harmonious ideal. Nature meant simplicity, orderliness,\nuniversality, and the spontaneous consentience of unsophisticated\nminds. Reason meant human dignity, especially as manifested in the\nconquest of fear and of desire. And whatever was natural and reasonable\nseemed to satisfy the requirements of utility as well. It might seem\nalso that these very principles were embodied in the facts of old\nRoman life and of Rome\u2019s imperial destiny. The only question was which\nschool of Greek philosophy gave them their clearest and completest\ninterpretation. Lucretius would have said that it was the system of\nEpicurus; but such a misconception was only rendered possible by the\npoet\u2019s seclusion from imperial interests, and, apparently, by his\nunacquaintance with the more refined forms of Hellenic thought. Rome\ncould not find in Epicureanism the comprehensiveness, the cohesion, and\nthe power which marked her own character, and which she only required\nto have expressed under a speculative form. Then came Cicero, with his\nmodernised rhetorical version of what he conceived to be the Socratic\nphilosophy. His teaching was far better suited than that of his great\ncontemporary to the tastes of his countrymen, and probably contributed\nin no small degree to the subsequent discredit of Epicureanism; yet,\nby a strange irony, it told, to the same extent, in favour of a\nphilosophy from which Cicero himself was probably even more averse\nthan from the morality of the Garden. In his hands, the Academic\ncriticism had simply the effect of dissolving away those elements\nwhich distinguished Stoicism from Cynicism; while his eclecticism\nbrought into view certain principles more characteristic of the Cynics\nthan of any other sect. The Nature to whose guidance he constantly\nappeals was, properly speaking, not a Socratic but a Sophistic or Cynic\nidea; and when the Stoics appropriated it, they were only reclaiming\nan ancestral possession. The exclusion of theoretical studies and\ndialectical subtleties from philosophy was also Cynic; the Stoic\ntheology when purified, as Cicero desired that it should be purified,\nfrom its superstitious ingredients, was no other than the naturalistic\nmonotheism of Antisthenes; and the Stoic morality without its paradoxes\nwas little more than an ennobled Cynicism. The curve described by\nthought was determined by forces of almost mechanical simplicity. The\nGreek Eclectics, seeking a middle term between the Academy and the\nPorch, had fallen back on Plato; Cicero, pursuing the same direction,\nreceded to Socrates; but the continued attraction of Stoicism drew\nhim to a point where the two were linked together by their historical\nintermediary, the Cynic school. And, by a singular coincidence, the\nprimal forms of Roman life, half godlike and half brutal, were found,\nbetter than anything in Hellenic experience, to realise the ideal of\na sect which had taken Heracles for its patron saint. Had Diogenes\nsearched the Roman Forum, he would have met with a man at every step.\n\nMeanwhile the morality of Stoicism had enlisted a force of incalculable\nimportance on its behalf. This was the life and death of the younger\nCato. However narrow his intellect, however impracticable his\nprinciples, however hopeless his resistance to the course of history,\nCato had merits which in the eyes of his countrymen placed him even\nhigher than Caesar; and this impression was probably strengthened\nby the extraordinary want of tact which the great conqueror showed\nwhen he insulted the memory of his noblest foe. Pure in an age of\ncorruption, disinterested in an age of greed, devotedly patriotic in\nan age of selfish ambition, faithful unto death in an age of shameless\ntergiversation, and withal of singularly mild and gentle character,\nCato lived and died for the law of conscience, proving by his example\nthat if a revival of old Roman virtue were still possible, only through\nthe lessons of Greek philosophy could this miracle be wrought. And\nit was equally clear that Rome could only accept philosophy under a\nform harmonising with her ancient traditions, and embodying doctrines\nlike those which the martyred saint of her republican liberties had\nprofessed.\n\nThe Roman reformers were satisfied to call themselves Stoics; and, in\nreviewing the Stoic system, we saw to what an extent they welcomed\nand developed some of its fundamental thoughts. But we have now to\nadd that the current which bore them on had its source deeper down\nthan the elaborate combinations of Zeno and Chrysippus, and entered\ninto the composition of every other system that acted on the Roman\nintellect simultaneously with theirs. Thus whatever forces co-operated\nwith Stoicism had the effect not of complicating but of simplifying its\ntendencies, by bringing into exclusive prominence the original impulse\nwhence they sprang, which was the idea of Natural Law. Hence the\nform ultimately assumed by Roman thought was a philosophy of Nature,\nsometimes appearing more under a Stoic, and sometimes more under a\nCynic guise. Everything in Roman poetry that is not copied from Greek\nmodels or inspired by Italian passion\u2014in other words, its didactic,\ndescriptive, and satiric elements\u2014may be traced to this philosophy.\nDoubtless the inculcation of useful arts, the delight in beautiful\nscenery, the praises of rustic simplicity, the fierce protests against\nvice under all its forms, and the celebration of an imperial destiny,\nwhich form the staple of Rome\u2019s national literature, spring from her\nown deepest life; but the quickening power of Greek thought was needed\nto develope them into articulate expression.\n\nThere is, indeed, nothing more nobly characteristic of the Hellenic\nspirit, especially as organised by Socrates, than its capacity not\nonly for communicating, but for awakening ideas; thus enabling all\nthe nations among which it spread to realise the whole potential\ntreasure of theoretical and practical energy with which they were\nendowed. And, from this point of view, we may say that what seems\nmost distinctively proper to Rome\u2014the triumphant consciousness of\nherself as a world-conquering and world-ruling power\u2014came to her from\nGreece, and under the form of a Greek idea, the idea of providential\ndestiny. It was to make his countrymen understand the fateful character\nand inevitable march of her empire that Polybius composed his great\nhistory; it was also by a Greek that the most successful of her early\nnational epics was sung; and when at last her language was wrought into\nan adequate instrument of literary expression\u2014thanks also to Greek\nrhetorical teaching,\u2014and the culture of her children had advanced so\nfar that they could venture to compete with the Greeks on their own\nground, it was still only under forms suggested by Stoicism that Virgil\ncould rewrite the story of his country\u2019s dedication to her predestined\ntask.\n\nThat Virgil was acquainted with this philosophy and had accepted some\nof its principal conclusions is evident from a famous passage in the\nSixth _Aeneid_,[282] setting forth the theory of a universal and\nall-penetrating soul composed of fiery matter, whence the particular\nsouls of men and animals are derived, by a process likened to the\nscattering and germination of seeds; from another equally famous\npassage in the Fourth _Eclogue_,[283] describing the periodical\nrecurrence of events in the same order as before; and also, although\nto a less extent, from his acceptance of the Stoic astronomy in the\n_Georgics_;[284] a circumstance which, by the way, renders it most\nunlikely that he looked up to Lucretius as an authority in physical\nscience.[285] But even apart from this collateral evidence, one can\nsee that the _Aeneid_ is a Stoic poem. It is filled with the ideas\nof mutation and vicissitude overruled by a divinely appointed order;\nof the prophetic intimations by which that order is revealed; of the\nobedience to reason by which passion is subdued; and of the faith\nin divine goodness by which suffering is made easy to be borne. And\nthere are also gleams of that universal humanity familiar to Stoicism,\nwhich read to some like an anticipation of the Christian or the modern\nspirit, but which really resemble them only as earlier manifestations\nof the same great philosophical movement.\n\nThis analogy with subsequent developments is aided, so far as it goes,\nby the admixture of a certain Platonic element with Virgil\u2019s Stoicism,\nshown chiefly by the references to an antenatal existence of the soul,\nintroduced for the purpose of bringing Rome\u2019s future heroes on the\nscene. This, however, is the last example of an attempt on the part of\na Roman writer to combine Plato\u2019s teaching with Stoicism.[286] At a\ntime when the Romans were more conscious of their literary dependence\non Greece than was the case after the Augustan age had reached its\nzenith, they were probably drawn by the beauty of its literary form to\nstudy a system which could otherwise interest them but little. Thus,\nnot only is Cicero full of admiration for Plato\u2014as, indeed, might\nbe expected with so highly cultivated a disciple of the Academy\u2014but\nCato, according to the well-known story, spent his last hours reading\nand re-reading the _Phaedo_; and his nephew Brutus also occupied an\nintermediate position between the Old Academy and the Porch. The\nRoman love of simplification and archaism induced subsequent thinkers\neither to let Platonism drop altogether, or to study those elements\nin which it differed from the pure naturalistic doctrine under their\nPythagorean form. It may even be doubted whether Virgil\u2019s psychology is\nnot derived from Pythagoras rather than from Plato; Ovid, so far as he\nphilosophises at all, is unquestionably a follower of the former;[287]\nand in the moral teaching of the Sextii, who flourished under Augustus,\nPythagorean principles are blended with Stoicism.[288] It is another\nmanifestation of the same effort to grasp every Greek doctrine by its\nroots, that Horace should proclaim himself the disciple of Aristippus\nrather than of Epicurus.[289] Even he, however, feels himself drawn\nwith advancing years towards the nobler faith which was now carrying\nall before it.[290]\n\nWith Seneca and his contemporaries, Stoicism has shaken itself free\nfrom alien ingredients, and has become the accepted creed of the whole\nrepublican opposition, being especially pronounced in the writings\nof the two young poets, Persius and Lucan. But in proportion as\nnaturalistic philosophy assumed the form of a protest against vice,\nluxury, inhumanity, despotism, and degradation, or of an exhortation to\nwelcome death as a deliverance from those evils, in the same proportion\ndid it tend to fall back into simple Cynicism; and on this side also\nit found a ready response, not only in the heroic fortitude, but also\nin the brutal coarseness and scurrility of the Roman character. Hence\nthe _Satires_ of the last great Roman poet, Juvenal, are an even more\ndistinct expression of Cynic than the epic of Virgil had been of Stoic\nsentiment. Along with whatever was good and wholesome in Cynicism there\nis the shameless indecency of the Cynics, and their unquestioning\nacceptance of mendicancy and prostitution as convenient helps to\nleading a natural and easily contented life. And it may be noticed\nthat the free-thinking tendencies which distinguished the Cynics from\nthe Stoics are also displayed in Juvenal\u2019s occasional denunciations of\nsuperstition.\n\n\nX.\n\nThus the final effect of its communion with the Roman mind was not\nso much to develope Greek philosophy any further, or to reconcile\nits warring sects with one another, as to aid in their decomposition\nby throwing them back on the earlier forms whence they had sprung.\nAccordingly we find that the philosophic activity of Hellas immediately\nbefore and after the Christian era\u2014so far as there was any at\nall\u2014consisted in a revival of the Pythagorean and Cynic schools,\naccompanied by a corresponding resuscitation of primitive Scepticism.\nThis last takes the shape of a very distinct protest against the\nfashionable naturalism of the age, just as the scepticism of Protagoras\nand Gorgias\u2014if our view be correct\u2014had once been called forth by the\nnaturalism of Prodicus and Hippias. The principal representative, if\nnot the founder, of Neo-Scepticism was Aenesid\u00eamus, who taught in\nAlexandria, when we are not informed, but probably after the middle\nof the first century A.D.[291] An avowed disciple of Pyrrho, his\nobject was to reassert the sceptical principle in its original purity,\nespecially as against the Academicians, whom he charged with having\nfirst perverted and then completely abandoned it.[292] Aenesid\u00eamus\nwould hear nothing of probabilities nor of moral certainties. He also\nclaimed to distinguish himself from the Academicians by refusing to\nassert even so much as that nothing can be asserted; but it appears\nthat, in this point, he had been fully anticipated by Arcesilaus and\nCarneades.[293] For the rest, his own Scepticism recalls the method of\nGorgias and Protagoras much more distinctly than the method of the New\nAcademy\u2014a fresh illustration of the archaic and revivalist tendencies\ndisplayed by philosophy at this period. In other words, it is not\nagainst the reasoning processes that his criticisms are directed, but\nagainst the theory of causation on the objective side, and against the\ncredibility of our immediate perceptions on the subjective side.[294]\nBut, in both directions, he has worked out the difficulties of the old\nSophists with a minuteness and a precision unknown to them; and some of\nhis points have been found worth repeating in a different connexion by\nmodern critics. Thus, in analysing the theory of causation, he draws\nattention to the plurality of causes as an obstacle to connecting\nany given consequent with one antecedent more than with another; to\nthe illegitimate assumption that the laws inferred from experience\nhold good under unknown conditions; to the arbitrary assumption of\nhypothetical causes not evinced by experience; and to the absurdity\nof introducing a new difficulty for the purpose of explaining an\nold one.[295] With regard to causation itself, Aenesid\u00eamus seems\nto have resolved it into action and reaction, thus eliminating the\ncondition of antecedence and consequence, without which it becomes\nunintelligible.[296]\n\nThe Alexandrian Sceptic\u2019s general arguments against the possibility\nof knowledge resolve themselves into a criticism of what Sir W.\nHamilton called Natural Realism, somewhat complicated and confused\nby a simultaneous attack on the theory of natural morality conceived\nas something eternal and immutable. They are summed up in the famous\nten Tropes. Of these the first three are founded on the conflicting\nsensations produced by the same object when acting on different\nanimals\u2014as is inferred from the marked contrast presented by their\nseveral varieties of origin and structure,\u2014on different men, and on\nthe different senses of the same individual. The fourth, which has\nevidently an ethical bearing, enlarges on the changes in men\u2019s views\ncaused by mental and bodily changes, according to their health, age,\ndisposition, and so forth. The next five Tropes relate to circumstances\nconnected with the objects themselves: their distance and position as\nregards the spectator, the disturbance produced in their proper action\nby external influences such as air and light, together with the various\nmembranes and humours composing the organs of sense through which they\nare apprehended; their quantitative variation, involving as it does\nopposite effects on the senses, or as with medicines, on the health;\nthe law of relativity, according to which many things are only known\nwhen taken in company with others, such as double and half, right and\nleft, whole and part; comparative frequency or rarity of occurrence, as\nwith comets, which, while really of much less importance than the sun,\nexcite much more interest from their being so seldom seen. Finally, the\ntenth Trope is purely ethical, and infers the non-existence of a fixed\nmoral standard from the divergent and even opposite customs prevailing\namong different nations.[297]\n\nIn his attacks on the prevalent theories of ethics, Aenesid\u00eamus again\nreminds us both of Protagoras and of modern agnosticism. According to\nhim, the general disagreement of mankind proves, among other things,\nthat there is no definable highest good\u2014it is neither virtue, nor\npleasure, nor knowledge.[298] In the absence of any dogmatic teaching\non the subject at the time when he lived, Protagoras could not give an\nopinion with regard to the _summum bonum_; but Plato\u2019s famous dialogue\nrepresents him as one who, from his point of view, would be unwilling\nto admit the possibility of introducing fixed principles into conduct;\nand in like manner, Mr. Herbert Spencer, while accepting the hedonistic\nprinciple, gives it such an extremely general signification that he\nis thrown back on the sceptical principle of leaving everyone free to\nfollow his own inclinations, provided that, in so doing, he does not\ninterfere with the liberty of others.\n\nThe parallel between Aenesid\u00eamus and Protagoras would become still more\ncomplete were it true that the Alexandrian philosopher also sought\nto base his Scepticism on the Heracleitean theory of Nature, arguing\nthat contradictory assertions are necessitated by the presence of\ncontradictory properties in every object.\n\nThat Aenesid\u00eamus held this view is stated as a fact by Sextus, whose\ntestimony is here corroborated by Tertullian, or rather by Tertullian\u2019s\ninformant, Soranus. We find, however, that Zeller, who formerly\naccepted the statement in question as true, has latterly seen reason to\nreject it. Aenesid\u00eamus cannot, he thinks, have been guilty of so great\nan inconsistency as to base his Scepticism on the dogmatic physics of\nHeracleitus. And he explains the agreement of the ancient authorities\nby supposing that the original work of Aenesid\u00eamus contained a critical\naccount of the Heracleitean theory, that this was misinterpreted into\nan expression of his adhesion to it by Soranus, and that the blunder\nwas adopted at second-hand by both Sextus and Tertullian.[299]\n\nIt is, at any rate, certain that the successors of Aenesid\u00eamus adhered\nto the standpoint of Pyrrho. One of them, Agrippa, both simplified and\nstrengthened the arguments of the school by reducing the ten Tropes to\nfive. The earlier objections to human certainty were summed up under\ntwo heads: the irreconcilable conflict of opinions on all subjects; and\nthe essential relativity of consciousness, in which the percipient and\nthe perceived are so intimately united that what things in themselves\nare cannot possibly be discovered. The other three Tropes relate to the\nbaselessness of reasoning. They were evidently suggested by Aristotle\u2019s\nremarks on the subject. The process of proof cannot be carried\nbackwards _ad infinitum_, nor can it legitimately revolve in a circle.\nThus much had already been admitted, or rather insisted on by the great\nfounder of logic. But the Sceptics could not agree to Aristotle\u2019s\ncontention, that demonstration may be based on first principles of\nself-evident certainty. They here fell back on their main argument;\nthat the absence of general agreement on every point is fatal to the\nexistence of such pretended axioms. A still further simplification was\neffected by the reduction of the five Tropes to two\u2014that all reasoning\nrests on intuition, and that men\u2019s intuitions are irreconcilably at\nvariance with one another.[300] As against true science, the sceptical\nTropes are powerless, for the validity of its principles has nothing\nto do with their general acceptance. They are laid before the learner\nfor his instruction, and if he chooses to regard them as either false\nor doubtful, the misfortune will be his and not theirs. But as against\nall attempts to constrain belief by an appeal to authority, the Tropes\nstill remain invincible. Whether the testimony invoked be that of\nancient traditions or of a supposed inward witness, there is always the\nsame fatal objection that other traditions and other inward witnesses\ntell quite a different story. The task of deciding between them must,\nafter all, be handed over to an impersonal reason. In other words, each\nindividual must judge for himself and at his own risk, just as he does\nin questions of physical science.\n\nWe have already observed that Scepticism among the ancients was often\ncultivated in connexion with some positive doctrine which it indirectly\nserved to recommend. In the case of its last supporters, this was the\nstudy of medicine on an empirical as opposed to a deductive method.\nThe Sceptical contention is that we cannot go beyond appearances;\nthe empirical contention is, that all knowledge comes to us from\nexperience, and that this only shows us how phenomena are related to\none another, not how they are related to their underlying causes,\nwhether efficient or final. These allied points of view have been\nbrought into still more intimate association by modern thought, which,\nas will be shown in the concluding chapter, has sprung from a modified\nform of the ancient Scepticism, powerfully aided by a simultaneous\ndevelopment of physical science. At the same time, the new school\nhave succeeded in shaking off the narrowness and timidity of their\npredecessors, who were still so far under the influence of the old\ndogmatists as to believe that there was an inherent opposition between\nobservation and reasoning in the methods of discovery, between facts\nand explanations in the truths of science, and between antecedence\nand causation in the realities of Nature. In this respect, astronomy\nhas done more for the right adjustment of our conceptions than any\nother branch of knowledge; and it is remarkable that Sextus Empiricus,\nthe last eminent representative of ancient Scepticism, and the only\none (unless Cicero is to be called a Sceptic) whose writings are\nstill extant, should expressly except astronomy from the destructive\ncriticism to which he subjects the whole range of studies included in\nwhat we should call the university curriculum of his time.[301] We need\nnot enter into an analysis of the ponderous compilation referred to;\nfor nearly every point of interest which it comprises has already been\ntouched on in the course of our investigation; and Sextus differs only\nfrom his predecessors by adding the arguments of the New Academy to\nthose of Protagoras and Pyrrho, thus completing the Sceptical cycle.\nIt will be enough to notice the singular circumstance that so copious\nand careful an enumeration of the grounds which it was possible to urge\nagainst dogmatism\u2014including, as we have seen, many still employed for\nthe same or other purposes,\u2014should have omitted the two most powerful\nsolvents of any. These were left for the exquisite critical acumen of\nHume to discover. They relate to the conception of causation, and to\nthe conception of our own personality as an indivisible, continuously\nexisting substance, being attempts to show that both involve\nassumptions of an illegitimate character. Sextus comes up to the very\nverge of Hume\u2019s objection to the former when he observes that causation\nimplies relation, which can only exist in thought;[302] but he does not\nask how we come to think such a relation, still less does he connect\nit with the perception of phenomenal antecedence; and his attacks on\nthe various mental faculties assumed by psychologists pass over the\nfundamental postulate of personal identity, thus leaving Descartes what\nseemed a safe foundation whereon to rebuild the edifice of metaphysical\nphilosophy.\n\n\nXI.\n\nThe effect aimed at by ancient Scepticism under its last form was to\nthrow back reflection on its original starting-point. Life was once\nmore handed over to the guidance of sense, appetite, custom, and\nart.[303] We may call this residuum the philosophy of the dinner-bell.\nThat institution implies the feeling of hunger, the directing sensation\nof sound, the habit of eating together at a fixed time, and the art\nof determining time by observing the celestial revolutions. Even so\nlimited a view contains indefinite possibilities of expansion. It\ninvolves the three fundamental relations that other philosophies have\nfor their object to work out with greater distinctness and in fuller\ndetail: the relation between feeling and action, binding together past,\npresent, and future in the consciousness of personal identity; the\nrelation of ourselves to a collective society of similarly constituted\nbeings, our intercourse with whom is subject from the very first to\nlaws of morality and of logic; and, finally, the relation in which we\nstand, both singly and combined, to that universal order by which all\nalike are enveloped and borne along, with its suggestions of a still\nlarger logic and an auguster morality springing from the essential\ndependence of our individual and social selves on an even deeper\nidentity than that which they immediately reveal. We have already had\noccasion to observe how the noble teaching of Plato and the Stoics\nresumes itself in a confession of this threefold synthesis; and we\nnow see how, putting them at their very lowest, nothing less than\nthis will content the claims of thought. Thus, in less time than it\ntook Berkeley to pass from tar-water to the Trinity, we have led our\nSceptics from their philosophy of the dinner-bell to a philosophy\nwhich the Catholic symbols, with their mythologising tendencies, can\nbut imperfectly represent. And to carry them with us thus far, nothing\nmore than one of their own favourite methods is needed. Wherever they\nattempt to arrest the progress of enquiry and generalisation, we can\nshow them that no real line of demarcation exists. Let them once admit\nthe idea of a relation connecting the elements of consciousness, and\nit will carry them over every limit except that which is reached when\nthe universe becomes conscious of itself. Let them deny the idea of a\nrelation, and we may safely leave them to the endless task of analysing\nconsciousness into elements which are feelings and nothing more. The\nmagician in the story got rid of a too importunate familiar by setting\nhim to spin ropes of sand. The spirit of Scepticism is exorcised by\nsetting it to divide the strands of reason into breadthless lines and\nunextended points.\n\nWhat influence Scepticism exercised on the subsequent course of Greek\nthought is difficult to determine. If we are to believe Diogenes\nLaertius, who flourished in the second quarter of the third century\nA.D., every school except Epicureanism had at that time sunk into utter\nneglect;[304] and it is natural to connect this catastrophe with the\nactivity of the Sceptics, and especially of Sextus Empiricus, whose\ncritical compilation had appeared not long before. Such a conclusion\nwould be supported by the circumstance that Lucian, writing more than\nfifty years earlier, directs his attacks on contemporary philosophy\nchiefly from the Sceptical standpoint; his _Hermotimus_ in particular\nbeing a popularised version of the chief difficulties raised from that\nquarter. Still it remains to be shown why the criticism of the Greek\nHumanists, of Pyrrho, and of the New Academy should have produced so\nmuch more powerful an effect under their revived form than when they\nwere first promulgated; and it may be asked whether the decline of\nphilosophy should not rather be attributed to the general barbarisation\nof the Roman empire at that period.\n\nWe have also to consider in what relation the new Scepticism stood\nto the new Platonism by which, in common with every other school, it\nwas eventually either displaced or absorbed. The answer usually given\nto this question is that the one was a reaction from the other. It\nis said that philosophy, in despair of being able to discover truth\nby reason, took refuge in the doctrine that it could be attained by\nsupernatural revelation; and that this doctrine is the characteristic\nmark distinguishing the system of Plotinus from its predecessors.\nThat a belief in the possibility of receiving divine communications\nwas widely diffused during the last centuries of polytheism is, no\ndoubt, established, but that it ever formed more than an adjunct to\nNeo-Platonism seems questionable; and there is no evidence that we are\naware of to show that it was occasioned by a reaction from Scepticism.\nAs a defence against the arguments of Pyrrho and his successors, it\nwould, in truth, have been quite unavailing; for whatever objections\napplied to men\u2019s natural perceptions, would have applied with still\ngreater force to the alleged supernatural revelation. Moreover, the\nmystical element of Neo-Platonism appears only in its consummation\u2014in\nthe ultimate union of the individual soul with the absolute One; the\nrest of the system being reasoned out in accordance with the ordinary\nlaws of logic, and in apparent disregard of the Sceptical attacks on\ntheir validity.\n\nThe truth is that critics seem to have been misled by a superficial\nanalogy between the spiritualistic revival accomplished by Plotinus,\nand the Romantic revival which marked the beginning of the present\ncentury. The two movements have, no doubt, several traits in common;\nbut there is this great difference between them, that the latter\nwas, what the former was not, a reaction against individualism,\nagnosticism, and religious unbelief. The right analogy will be found\nnot by looking forward but by looking back. It will then be seen\nthat the Neo-Platonists were what their traditional name implies,\ndisciples of Plato, and not only of Plato but of Aristotle as well.\nThey stood in the same relation to the systems which they opposed as\nthat in which the two great founders of spiritualism had stood to\nthe naturalistic and humanist schools of their time\u2014of course with\nwhatever modifications of a common standpoint were necessitated by the\nsubstitution of a declining for a progressive civilisation. Like Plato\nalso, they were profoundly influenced by the Pythagorean philosophy,\nwith its curious combination of mystical asceticism and mathematics.\nAnd, to complete the analogy, they too found themselves in presence of\na powerful religious reaction, against the excesses of which, like him,\nthey at first protested, although with less than his authority, and\nonly, like him, to be at last carried away by its resistless torrent.\nIt is to the study of this religious movement that we must now address\nourselves, before entering on an examination of the latest form assumed\nby Greek philosophy among the Greeks themselves.\n\n _Note._\u2014It does not enter into the plan of this work to study the\n educational and social aspects of Greek philosophy under the Roman\n Empire. Those who wish for information on the subject should consult\n Capes\u2019s _Stoicism_, Martha\u2019s _Moralistes sous l\u2019Empire Romain_,\n Renan\u2019s _Marc-Aur\u00e8le_, chap, iii., Aubertin\u2019s _S\u00e9n\u00e8que et Saint\n Paul_, Havet\u2019s _Christianisme et ses Origines_, Vol. II., Gaston\n Boissier\u2019s _Religion Romaine_, Duruy\u2019s _Histoire Romaine_, chap, lxi.,\n Friedl\u00e4nder\u2019s _Darstellungen aus der Sittengeschichte Rom\u2019s_, Vol.\n III., chap. v. (5th ed.), and Bruno Bauer\u2019s _Christus und die C\u00e4saren_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL.[305]\n\n\nI.\n\nThe result of recent enquiries into the state of civilisation under\nthe Roman Empire during the first two centuries of its existence,\nhas been to suggest conclusions in many respects at variance with\nthose formerly entertained. Instead of the intellectual stagnation,\nthe moral turpitude, and the religious indifference which were once\nsupposed to have been the most marked characteristics of that period,\nmodern scholars discern symptoms of active and fruitful thought, of\npurity and disinterestedness both in public and private life, but\nabove all of a religious feeling which erred far more on the side of\nexcess than on the side of defect. This change of view may be traced\nto various causes. A new class of investigators have made ancient\nhistory an object of special study. Fresh evidence has been brought\nto light, and a more discriminating as well as a more extended use\nhas been made of the sources already available. And, perhaps, even\ngreater importance is attributable to the principle now so generally\naccepted, that historical phenomena, like all other phenomena, are\nessentially continuous in their movement. The old theories assumed that\nthe substitution of Christian for what is called Pagan civilisation\nwas accompanied by a sudden break in men\u2019s habits and ideas. But the\nwhole spirit of modern philosophy has prepared us to believe that such\na break is not likely to have ever occurred. And a new survey of the\nperiod in question is leading us to the conviction that, as a matter of\nfact, it did not occur.\n\nFor a long time the history of the Roman Empire was written by the\ndescendants of its most deadly enemies\u2014by Christian ecclesiastics or\nby scholars trained under their influence, and by the inheritors of\nthe northern races who overran and destroyed it. The natural tendency\nof both classes was to paint the vices of the old society in the most\nglaring colours, that by so doing they might exhibit the virtues of its\nconquerors and the necessity of their mission in stronger relief. In\nthis respect, their task was greatly facilitated by the character of\nthe authorities from whom their information was principally derived.\nHorace and Petronius, Seneca and Juvenal, Tacitus and Suetonius,\nfurnished them with pictures of depravity which it was impossible\nto exaggerate, which had even to be toned down before they could\nbe reproduced in a modern language. No allowance was made for the\ninfluence of a rhetorical training in fostering the cultivation of\neffect at the expense of truth, nor for the influence of aristocratic\nprejudice in securing a ready acceptance for whatever tended to the\ndiscredit of a monarchical government. It was also forgotten that the\ncourt and society of Rome could give no idea of the life led in the\nrest of Italy and in the provinces. Moreover, the contrast continually\ninstituted or implied by these historians was not between the ancient\ncivilisation and the state of things which immediately succeeded it,\nnor yet between the society of a great capital as it was then, and as\nit was in the historian\u2019s own time. The points selected for contrast\nwere what was worst in Paganism and what is best in Christianity. The\none was judged from the standpoint of courtiers and men of the world,\nembittered by disappointment and familiar with every form of depravity,\nthe other was judged from the standpoint of experience acquired in a\ncollege quadrangle, a country parsonage, or a cathedral close. The\nmodern writer knew little enough even about his own country, he knew\nnext to nothing about what morality was in the Middle Ages, and nothing\nat all about what it still continues to be in modern Italy.\n\nEven the very imperfect means of information supplied by the literature\nof the empire were not utilised to the fullest extent. It was naturally\nthe writers of most brilliant genius who received most attention,\nand these, as it happened, were the most prejudiced against their\ncontemporaries. Their observations, too, were put on record under\nthe form of sweeping generalisations; while the facts from which a\ndifferent conclusion might be gathered lay scattered through the pages\nof more obscure authorities, needing to be carefully sifted out and\nbrought together by those who wished to arrive at a more impartial view\nof the age to which they relate.\n\nAnother noteworthy circumstance is that the last centuries of Paganism\nwere on the whole marked by a steady literary decline. To a literary\nman, this meant that civilisation as a whole was retrograding, that\nit was an effete organism which could only be regenerated by the\ninfusion of new life from without; while, conversely, the fresh\nliterary productivity of mediaeval and modern Europe was credited to\nthe complete renovation which Christianity and the Barbarians were\nsupposed to have wrought. A closer study of Roman law has done much to\ncorrect this superficial impression. It has revealed the existence,\nin at least one most important domain, of a vast intellectual and\nmoral advance continued down to the death of Marcus Aurelius. And the\nretrograde movement which set in with Commodus may be fairly attributed\nto the increased militarism necessitated by the encroachments of\nbarbarism, and more directly to the infusion of barbarian elements into\nthe territory of the empire, rather than to any spontaneous decay of\nRoman civilisation. The subsequent resuscitation of art and letters\nis another testimony to the permanent value and vitality of ancient\nculture. It was in those provinces which had remained least affected\nby the northern invasion, such as Venetia and Tuscany, that the free\nactivity of the human intellect was first or most fruitfully resumed,\nand it was from the irradiation of still unconquered Byzantium that the\nlight which re-awakened them was derived.\n\nAnother science which has only been cultivated on a large scale within\ncomparatively recent years has confirmed the views suggested by\njurisprudence. An enormous mass of inscriptions has been brought to\nlight, deciphered, collated, and made available by transcription for\nthe purposes of sedentary scholars. With the help of these records,\nfragmentary though they be, we have obtained an insight into the\nsentiments, beliefs, and social institutions of Pagan antiquity as it\nwas just before the conversion of the Roman world to Christianity, such\nas literature alone could not supply. Literature and history, too, have\ntold a somewhat different story when read over again in the light of\nthese new discoveries. Finally, the whole mine of materials, new and\nold, has been worked by a class of enquirers who bring to their task\nqualities nearly unknown among the scholars of a former generation.\nThese men are familiar with an immense range of studies lying outside\ntheir special subject, but often capable of affording it unexpected\nillustrations; they are free from theological prejudices; they are\nsometimes versed in the practical conduct of state affairs; and habits\nof wide social intercourse have emancipated them from the narrowing\nassociations incident to a learned profession.\n\nPerhaps no subject has gained so much from the application of the\nnew historical method as that which we have now to study in its\nconnexion with the progress of Greek philosophy. This is the religion\nof the Roman empire. On former occasions, we have had to observe how\nfruitful was the interaction between faith and reason in the early\nstages of Greek thought. We have now to show how the same process\nwas continued on a greater scale during its later development and\ndiffusion. The conditions and results of this conflict have sometimes\nbeen gravely misconceived. We have said that in more than one direction\nimportant advances were made under the empire. In the direction of\npure rationalism, however, there was no advance at all, but, on the\ncontrary, a continual loss of the ground formerly won. The polytheism\nwhich Christianity displaced turns out to have been far more vigorous\nand fertile than was once supposed, and in particular to have been\nsupported by a much stronger body not only of popular sentiment, but,\nwhat at first seems very surprising, of educated conviction. We were\nformerly taught to believe that the faith of Homer and Aeschylus, of\nPythagoras and Pheidias, was in the last stage of decrepitude when\nits destined successor appeared, that it had long been abandoned by\nthe philosophers, and was giving place in the minds of the vulgar to\nmore exciting forms of superstition newly imported from the East. The\nundue preponderance given to purely literary sources of information\nis largely responsible for an opinion which now appears to have been\nmistaken. Among the great Roman writers, Lucretius proclaims himself\na mortal enemy to religion; Ennius and Horace are disbelievers in\nprovidence; the attitude of Juvenal towards the gods and towards a\nfuture life is at least ambiguous, and that of Tacitus undecided;\nCicero attacks the current superstitions with a vigour which has\ndiverted attention from the essentially religious character of his\nconvictions; Lucian, by far the most popular Greek writer of the\nempire, is notorious for his hostility to every form of theology. Among\nless known authors, the elder Pliny passionately denounces the belief\nin a divine guidance of life and in the immortality of the soul.[306]\nTaken alone, these instances would tend to prove that sceptical ideas\nwere very widely diffused through Roman society, both before and after\nthe establishment of the empire. Side by side, however, with the\nauthorities just cited there are others breathing a very different\nspirit; and what we have especially to notice is that with the progress\nof time the latter party are continually gaining in weight and numbers.\nAnd this, as we shall now proceed to show, is precisely what might have\nbeen expected from the altered circumstances which ensued when the\ncivilised world was subjected to a single city, and that city herself\nto a single chief.\n\n\nII.\n\nIn the world of thought no less than in the world of action, the\nboundless license which characterised the last days of Roman\nrepublicanism was followed by a period of tranquillity and restraint.\nAugustus endeavoured to associate his system of imperialism with a\nrevival of religious authority. By his orders a great number of ruinous\ntemples were restored, and the old ceremonies were celebrated once\nmore with all their former pomp. His efforts in this direction were\nably seconded by the greatest poet and the greatest historian of the\nage. Both Virgil and Livy were animated by a warm religious feeling,\nassociated, at least in the case of the latter, with a credulity which\nknew no bounds. With both, religion took an antiquarian form. They were\nconvinced that Rome had grown great through faith in the gods, that she\nhad a divine mandate to conquer the world, and that this supernatural\nmission might be most clearly perceived in the circumstances of her\nfirst origin.[307] It is also characteristic that both should have been\nprovincials, educated in the traditions of a reverent conservatism,\nand sympathising chiefly with those elements in the constitution of\nRome which brought her nearest to primitive Italian habits and ideas.\nNow it was not merely the policy, it was the inevitable consequence of\nimperialism to favour the provinces[308] at the expense of the capital,\nby depriving the urban population and the senatorial aristocracy of the\npolitical preponderance which they had formerly enjoyed. Here, as in\nmost other instances, what we call a reaction did not mean a change in\nthe opinions or sentiments of any particular persons or classes, but\nthe advent of a new class whose ways of thinking now determined the\ngeneral tone of the public mind.\n\nOne symptom of this reaction was the fashionable archaism of the\nAugustan age, the tendency to despise whatever was new in literature,\nand to exalt whatever was old. It is well known how feelingly Horace\ncomplains of a movement which was used to damage his own reputation as\na poet;[309] but what seems to have escaped observation is, that this\nprotest against the literary archaism of his contemporaries is only\none symptom of a much profounder division between his philosophy and\ntheirs. He was just as good a patriot as they were, but his sympathies\nwere with the Hellenising aristocracy to which Lucretius and Cicero had\nbelonged, not with the narrow-minded conservatism of the middle classes\nand the country people. He was a man of progress and free-thought,\nwho accepted the empire for what it might be worth, a Roman Prosper\nMerim\u00e9e or Sainte-Beuve, whose preference of order to anarchy did not\ninvolve any respect for superstitious beliefs simply because they were\nsupported by authority. And this healthy common sense is so much a part\nof his character, that he sometimes gives his mistresses the benefit of\nit, warning Leuconoe against the Babylonian soothsayers, and telling\nPhidyle that the gods should be approached not only with sacrifices\nbut with clean hands.[310] Yet so strong was the spirit of the age,\nthat the sceptical poet occasionally feels himself obliged to second\nor to applaud the work of restoration undertaken by Augustus, and to\naugur from it, with more or less sincerity, a reformation in private\nlife.[311] And even the frivolous Ovid may be supposed to have had the\nsame object in view when composing his _Fasti_.\n\nThe religious revival initiated by Augustus for his own purposes was\nsoon absorbed and lost in a much wider movement, following independent\nlines and determined by forces whose existence neither he nor any of\nhis contemporaries could suspect. Even for his own purposes, something\nmore was needed than a mere return to the past. The old Roman faith and\nworship were too dry and meagre to satisfy the cravings of the Romans\nthemselves in the altered conditions created for them by the possession\nof a world-wide empire; still less could they furnish a meeting-ground\nfor all the populations which that empire was rapidly fusing into a\nsingle mass. But what was wanted might be trusted to evolve itself\nwithout any assistance from without, once free scope was given to the\nreligious instincts of mankind. These had long been kept in abeyance\nby the creeds which they had originally called into existence, and\nby the rigid political organisation of the ancient city-state. Local\npatriotism was adverse to the introduction of new beliefs either from\nwithin or from without. Once the general interests of a community had\nbeen placed under the guardianship of certain deities with definite\nnames and jurisdictions, it was understood that they would feel\noffended at the prospect of seeing their privileges invaded by a\nrival power; and were that rival the patron of another community, his\nintroduction might seem like a surrender of national independence at\nthe feet of an alien conqueror. So, also, no very active proselytism\nwas likely to be carried on when the adherents of each particular\nreligion believed that its adoption by an alien community would enable\nstrangers and possible enemies to secure a share of the favour which\nhad hitherto been reserved for themselves exclusively. And to allure\naway the gods of a hostile town by the promise of a new establishment\nwas, in fact, one of the stratagems commonly employed by the general of\nthe besieging army.[312]\n\nIf the Roman conquest did not altogether put an end to these\nsentiments, it considerably mitigated their intensity. The imperial\ncity was too strong to feel endangered by the introduction of alien\ndeities within its precincts. The subject states were relieved from\nanxiety with regard to a political independence which they had\nirrecoverably lost. Moreover, since the conquests of Alexander, vast\naggregations of human beings had come into existence, to which the\nancient exclusiveness was unknown, because they never had been cities\nat all in the ancient sense of the word. Such were Alexandria and\nAntioch, and these speedily became centres of religious syncretism.\nRome herself, in becoming the capital of an immense empire, acquired\nthe same cosmopolitan character. Her population consisted for the most\npart of emancipated slaves, and of adventurers from all parts of the\nworld, many of whom had brought their national faiths with them, while\nall were ready to embrace any new faith which had superior attractions\nto offer. Another important agent in the diffusion and propagation of\nnew religions was the army. The legions constituted a sort of migratory\ncity, recruited from all parts of the empire, and moving over its whole\nextent. The dangers of a military life combined with its authoritative\nideas are highly favourable to devotion; and the soldiers could readily\nadopt new modes for the expression of this feeling both from each other\nand from the inhabitants of the countries where they were stationed,\nand would in turn become missionaries for their dissemination over\nthe most distant regions. That such was actually the case is proved by\nnumerous religious inscriptions found in the neighbourhood of Roman\ncamps.[313]\n\nAfter considering by what agencies the seeds of religious belief\nwere carried from place to place, we have to examine, what was even\nmore important, the quality of the soil on which they fell. And\nhere, to continue the metaphor, we shall find that the Roman plough\nhad not only broken through the crust of particularist prejudice,\nbut had turned up new social strata eminently fitted to receive and\nnourish the germs scattered over their surface by every breeze and\nevery bird of passage, or planted and watered by a spiritual sower\u2019s\nhand. Along with the positive check of an established worship, the\nnegative check of dissolving criticism had, to a great extent,\ndisappeared with the destruction of the r\u00e9gime which had been most\nfavourable to its exercise during the early stages of progress. The\nold city aristocracies were not merely opposed on patriotic grounds to\nfree-trade in religion, but, as the most educated and independent class\nin the community, they were the first to shake off supernatural beliefs\nof every kind. We have grown so accustomed to seeing those beliefs\nupheld by the partisans of political privilege and attacked in the name\nof democratic principles, that we are apt to forget how very modern\nis the association of free-thought with the supremacy of numbers. It\nonly dates from the French Revolution, and even now it is far from\nobtaining everywhere. Athens was the most perfectly organised democracy\nof antiquity, and in the course of this work we have repeatedly had\noccasion to observe how strong was the spirit of religious bigotry\namong the Athenian people. If we want rationalistic opinions we must\ngo to the great nobles and their friends, to a Pericles, a Critias,\nor a Protagoras. There must also have been perfect intellectual\nliberty among the Roman nobles who took up Hellenic culture with such\neagerness towards the middle of the second century B.C., and among\nthose who, at a later period, listened with equanimity or approval to\nCaesar\u2019s profession of Epicureanism in a crowded senatorial debate.\nIt was as much in order that the _De Rerum Natur\u00e2_ should have been\nwritten by a member of this class as that the _Aeneid_ should proceed\nfrom the pen of a modest provincial farmer. In positive knowledge,\nVirgil greatly excelled Lucretius, but his beliefs were inevitably\ndetermined by the traditions of his ignorant neighbours. When civil\nwar, proscription, delation, and, perhaps more than any other cause,\ntheir own delirious extravagance, had wrought the ruin of the Roman\naristocracy, their places were taken by respectable provincials\nwho brought with them the convictions without the genius of the\nMantuan poet; and thenceforward the tide of religious reaction never\nceased rising until the Crusades, which were its supreme expression,\nunexpectedly brought about a first revival of Hellenic culture. On that\noccasion, also, the first symptoms of revolt manifested themselves\namong the nobles; taking the form of Gnosticism in the brilliant courts\nof Languedoc, and, at a later period, of Epicureanism in the Ghibelline\ncircles of Florentine society; while, conversely, when the Ciompi or\npoorer artisans of Florence rose in revolt against the rich traders,\none of the first demands made by the successful insurgents was, that\na preaching friar should be sent to give them religious instruction.\nAt a still later period, the same opposition of intellectual interests\ncontinues to be defined by the same social divisions. Two distinct\ncurrents of thought co-operated to bring about the Protestant\nReformation. One, which was religious and reactionary, proceeded\nfrom the people. The other, which was secularising, scholarly, and\nscientific, represented the tendencies of the upper classes and of\nthose who looked to them for encouragement and support. Throughout\nthe sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, many noble names are to be\nfound among the champions of reason; and while speculative liberty is\nassociated with the ascendency of the aristocratic party, superstition\nand intolerance are associated with the triumph of the people, whether\nunder the form of a democracy or of a levelling despotism. So, also,\nthe great emancipating movement of the eighteenth century was fostered\nby the descendants of the Crusaders, and, until after the Revolution,\nmet with no response among the bourgeoisie or the people; indeed the\nreaction in favour of supernaturalism was begun by a child of the\npeople, Rousseau. All this, as we have already observed, has been\nreversed in more recent times; but the facts quoted are enough to prove\nhow natural it was that in the ancient world decay of class privileges\nshould be equivalent to a strengthening of the influences which made\nfor supernaturalism and against enlightened criticism.\n\n\nIII.\n\nAfter the revolution which destroyed the political power of the old\naristocracy, there came a further revolution the effect of which was\nto diminish largely its social predominance. We learn from the bitter\nsarcasms of Horace and Juvenal that under the empire wealth took the\nplace of birth, if not, as those satirists pretend, of merit, as a\npassport to distinction and respect. Merely to possess a certain\namount of money procured admission to the equestrian and senatorial\norders; while a smaller pecuniary qualification entitled any Roman\ncitizen to rank among the _Honestiores_ as opposed to the _Humiliores_,\nthe latter only being liable, if found guilty of certain offences,\nto the more atrocious forms of capital punishment, such as death by\nthe wild beasts or by fire.[314] Even a reputation for learning was\nsupposed to be a marketable commodity; and when supreme power was held\nby a philosopher, the vulgar rich could still hope to attract his\nfavourable notice by filling their houses with books.[315] We also know\nfrom Juvenal, what indeed the analogy of modern times would readily\nsuggest, that large fortunes were often rapidly made, and made by the\ncultivation of very sordid arts. Thus members of the most ignorant and\nsuperstitious classes were constantly rising to positions where they\ncould set the tone of public opinion, or at least help to determine its\ndirection.\n\nThe military organisation of the empire had the further effect of\ngiving a high social status to retired centurions\u2014men probably\nrecruited from the most barbarous provincial populations, and certainly\nmore remarkable for their huge size than for their mental gifts.[316]\nWhen one of these heroes heard a philosopher state that nothing can be\nmade out of nothing, he would ask with a horse-laugh whether that was\nany reason for going without one\u2019s dinner.[317] On the other hand, when\nit came to be a question of supernatural agency, a man of this type\nwould astonish the Jews themselves by his credulity. Imbued with the\nidea of personal authority, he readily fancied that anyone standing\nhigh in the favour of God could cure diseases from a distance by simply\ngiving them the word of command to depart.[318]\n\nA much more important factor in the social movement than those already\nmentioned was the ever-increasing influence of women. This probably\nstood at the lowest point to which it has ever fallen, during the\nclassic age of Greek life and thought. In the history of Thucydides,\nso far as it forms a connected series of events, four times only\nduring a period of nearly seventy years does a woman cross the scene.\nIn each instance her apparition only lasts for a moment. In three of\nthe four instances she is a queen or a princess, and belongs either to\nthe half-barbarous kingdoms of northern Hellas or to wholly barbarous\nThrace. In the one remaining instance\u2014 that of the woman who helps\nsome of the trapped Thebans to make their escape from Plataea\u2014while\nher deed of mercy will live for ever, her name is for ever lost.[319]\nBut no sooner did philosophy abandon physics for ethics and religion\nthan the importance of those subjects to women was perceived, first\nby Socrates, and after him by Xenophon and Plato. Women are said to\nhave attended Plato\u2019s lectures disguised as men. Women formed part\nof the circle which gathered round Epicurus in his suburban retreat.\nOthers aspired not only to learn but to teach. Ar\u00eat\u00ea, the daughter of\nAristippus, handed on the Cyrenaic doctrine to her son, the younger\nAristippus. Hipparchia, the wife of Crates the Cynic, earned a place\namong the representatives of his school. But all these were exceptions;\nsome of them belonged to the class of Hetaerae; and philosophy,\nalthough it might address itself to them, remained unaffected by\ntheir influence. The case was widely different in Rome, where women\nwere far more highly honoured than in Greece;[320] and even if the\nprominent part assigned to them in the legendary history of the\ncity be a proof, among others, of its untrustworthiness, still that\nsuch stories should be thought worth inventing and preserving is an\nindirect proof of the extent to which feminine influence prevailed.\nWith the loss of political liberty, their importance, as always\nhappens at such a conjuncture, was considerably increased. Under a\npersonal government there is far more scope for intrigue than where\nlaw is king; and as intriguers women are at least the equals of men.\nMoreover, they profited fully by the levelling tendencies of the age.\nOne great service of the imperial jurisconsults was to remove some of\nthe disabilities under which women formerly suffered. According to\nthe old law, they were placed under male guardianship through their\nwhole life, but this restraint was first reduced to a legal fiction\nby compelling the guardian to do what they wished, and at last it was\nentirely abolished. Their powers both of inheritance and bequest were\nextended; they frequently possessed immense wealth; and their wealth\nwas sometimes expended for purposes of public munificence. Their social\nfreedom seems to have been unlimited, and they formed combinations\namong themselves which probably served to increase their general\ninfluence.[321]\n\nAll these circumstances taken together would permit the Roman women\nto have opinions of their own if they liked, and would ensure a\nrespectful hearing for whatever they had to say; while the men who had\nopinions to propagate would, for the same reason, be deeply interested\nin securing their adhesion. On the other hand, they received a good\nliterary education, being sent apparently to the same schools as\ntheir brothers, and there made acquainted with, at least, the Latin\npoets.[322] Thus they would possess the degree of culture necessary\nfor readily receiving and transmitting new impressions. And we know,\nas a matter of fact, that many Roman ladies entered eagerly into the\nliterary movement of the age, sharing the studies of their husbands,\ndiscoursing on questions of grammar, freely expressing their opinion on\nthe relative merits of different poets, and even attempting authorship\non their own account.[323] Philosophy, as it was then taught, attracted\na considerable share of their attention; and some great ladies were\nconstantly attended by a Stoic professor, to whose lectures they\nlistened seemingly with more patience than profit.[324] One of their\nfavourite studies was Plato\u2019s _Republic_, according to Epict\u00eatus,\nbecause it advocated a community of wives;[325] or, as we may more\ncharitably suggest, because it admitted women to an equality with men.\nBut there is no evidence to prove that their inquisitiveness ever went\nto the length of questioning the foundations of religious faith; and\nwe may fairly reckon their increasing influence among the forces which\nwere tending to bring about an overwhelming religious revival among the\neducated classes.\n\nIn this connexion, some importance must also be attributed to the\nmore indirect influence exercised by children; These did not form a\nparticularly numerous class in the upper ranks of Roman society; but,\nto judge by what we see in modern France, the fewer there were of them\nthe more attention were they likely to receive; and their interests,\nwhich like those of the other defenceless classes had been depressed or\nneglected under the aristocratic r\u00e9gime, were favoured by the reforming\nand levelling movement of the empire. One of Juvenal\u2019s most popular\nsatires is entirely devoted to the question of their education; and,\nin reference to this, the point of view most prominently put forward\nis the importance of the examples which are offered to them by their\nparents. Juvenal, himself a free-thinker, is exceedingly anxious that\nthey should not be indoctrinated with superstitious opinions; but we\nmay be sure that a different order of considerations would equally\ninduce others to give their children a careful religious training,\nand to keep them at a distance from sceptical influences; while the\nspontaneous tendency of children to believe in the supernatural would\nrender it easier to give them moral instruction under a religious form.\n\nTo complete our enumeration of the forces by which a new public opinion\nwas being created, we must mention the slaves. Though still liable\nto be treated with great barbarity, the condition of this class\nwas considerably ameliorated under the empire. Their lives and, in\nthe case of women, their chastity, were protected by law; they were\nallowed by custom to accumulate property; they had always the hope of\nliberty before their eyes, for emancipations were frequent and were\nencouraged by the new legislation; they often lived on terms of the\nclosest intimacy with their masters, and were sometimes educated enough\nto converse with them on subjects of general interest. Now a servile\ncondition is more favourable than any other to religious ideas. It\ninculcates habits of unquestioning submission to authority; and by\nthe miseries with which it is attended immensely enhances the value\nof consolatory beliefs, whether they take the form of faith in divine\nprotection during this life, or of a compensation for its afflictions\nin the next. Moreover, a great majority of the Roman slaves came from\nthose Eastern countries which were the native land of superstition, and\nthus served as missionaries of Oriental cults and creeds in the West,\nbesides furnishing apt disciples to the teachers who came from Asia\nwith the express object of securing converts to their religion in Rome.\nThe part played by slaves in the diffusion of Christianity is well\nknown; what we have to observe at present is that their influence must\nequally have told in favour of every other supernaturalist belief, and,\nto the same extent, against the rationalism of writers like Horace and\nLucian.\n\nThus Roman civilisation, even when considered on its liberal,\nprogressive, democratic side, seems to have necessarily favoured the\ngrowth and spread of superstition, because the new social strata\nwhich it turned up were less on their guard against unwarranted\nbeliefs than the old governing aristocracies with their mingled\nconservatism and culture. But this was not all; and on viewing the\nempire from another side we shall find that under it all classes\nalike were exposed to conditions eminently inconsistent with that\nindividual independence and capacity for forming a private judgment\nwhich had so honourably distinguished at least one class under the\nrepublican r\u00e9gime. If imperialism was in one sense a levelling and\ndemocratic system, in another sense it was intensely aristocratic, or\nrather timocratic. Superiorities of birth, race, age, and sex were\neverywhere tending to disappear, only that they might be replaced\nby the more ignoble superiorities of brute-force, of court-favour,\nand of wealth. The Palace set an example of caprice on the one side\nand of servility on the other which was faithfully followed through\nall grades of Roman society, less from a spirit of imitation than\nbecause circumstances were at work which made every rich man or woman\nthe centre of a petty court consisting of voluntary dependents whose\nobsequiousness was rewarded by daily doles of food and money, by the\noccasional gift of a toga or even of a small farm, or by the hope of\na handsome legacy. Before daybreak the doors of a wealthy house were\nsurrounded by a motley crowd, including not only famished clients\nbut praetors, tribunes, opulent freedmen, and even ladies in their\nlitters; all come nominally for the purpose of paying their respects\nto the master, but in reality to receive a small present of money. At\na later hour, when the great man went abroad, he was attended by a\ntroop of poor hangers-on, who, after trudging about for hours in his\ntrain and accompanying him home in the afternoon, often missed the\nplace at his table which their assiduities were intended to secure.\nEven when it came, the invitation brought small comfort, as only the\npoorest food and the worst wine were set before the client, while\nhe had the additional vexation of seeing his patron feasting on the\nchoicest dishes and the most delicious vintages; and this was also\nthe lot of the domestic philosopher whom some rich men regarded as an\nindispensable member of their retinue.[326] Of course those who wished\nfor a larger share of the patron\u2019s favours could only hope to win it\nby unstinted tokens of admiration, deference, or assent; and probably\nmany besides the master of thirty legions in the well-known story\nwere invariably allowed to be right by the scholars with whom they\ncondescended to dispute.\n\nBesides the attentions lavished on every wealthy individual, those who\nhad no children were especially courted, and that too by others who\nwere as well off as themselves with the object of being remembered in\ntheir wills. So advantageous a position, indeed, did these _orbi_,\nas they were called, occupy, that among the higher classes there was\nextreme unwillingness to marry; although, as an encouragement to\npopulation, the father of three children enjoyed several substantial\nprivileges. This circumstance, again, by preventing the perpetuation of\nwealthy families, and allowing their property to pass into the hands of\ndegraded fortune-hunters, rendered impossible the consolidation of a\nnew aristocracy which might have reorganised the traditions of liberal\nculture, and formed an effectual barrier against the downward pressure\nof despotism on the one side and the inroads of popular superstition on\nthe other.\n\nAs a last illustration of the extent to which authority and\nsubordination were pushed in Roman society, it may be mentioned that\nthe better class of slaves were permitted to keep slaves for their own\nservice. But whether the institution of slavery as a whole should be\nreckoned among the conditions favourable to authoritative beliefs is\ndoubtful, as it was an element common to every period of antiquity.\nPerhaps, however paradoxical such an assertion may seem, the very\nfrequency of emancipation gave increased strength to the feeling of\ndependence on an overruling personal power. A freedman could not forget\nthat the most important event in his life was due, not to any natural\nlaw, but to the will or the caprice of a master; and this reflection\nmust have confirmed his faith in the divine beings of whom he and his\nmaster were fellow-slaves.\n\n\nIV.\n\nWe have now to show what new beliefs gained most ground, and what old\nbeliefs were most successfully revived, through the combination of\nfavourable conditions, an analysis of which has been attempted in the\npreceding pages. Among the host of creeds which at this period competed\nwith one another for the favour of the rich or for the suffrages of\nthe poor, there were some that possessed a marked advantage over their\nrivals in the struggle for existence. The worship of Nature considered\nas imaging the vicissitudes of human life, could not fail to be the\nmost popular of any. All who desired a bond of sympathy uniting them\nwith their fellow-subjects over the whole empire, and even with the\ntribes beyond its frontiers, might meet on this most universal ground.\nAll who wished to combine excitement with devotion were attracted by\nthe dramatic representation of birth and death, of bereavement and\nsorrow and searching, of purification through suffering, and triumphant\nreunion with the lost objects of affection in this or in another world.\nInquisitive or innovating minds were gratified by admission to secrets\na knowledge of which was believed to possess inestimable value. And the\nmost conservative could see in such celebrations an acknowledgment,\nunder other forms, of some divinity which had always been reverenced\nin their own home, perhaps even the more authentic reproduction of\nadventures already related to them as dim and uncertain traditions of\nthe past. More than one such cultus, representing under the traits\nof personal love and loss and recovery, the death of vegetation in\nwinter and its return to life in spring, was introduced from the\nEast, and obtained a wide popularity through the empire. Long before\nthe close of the republic, the worship of Cybele was established in\nRome with the sanction of the Senate. Other Asiatic deities of a much\nless respectable character, Astarte and the so-called Syrian goddess,\nthough not officially recognised, enjoyed a celebrity extending to\nthe remotest corners of the western world.[327] Still greater and\nmore universal was the veneration bestowed on Isis and Serapis. From\nthe prince to the peasant, from the philosopher to the ignorant girl,\nall classes united in doing homage to their power. Their mysteries\nwere celebrated in the mountain valleys of the Tyrol, and probably\ncreated as much excitement among the people of that neighbourhood as\nthe Ammergau passion-play does at present.[328] An inscription has\nbeen discovered describing in minute detail an offering made to Isis\nby a Spanish matron in honour of her little daughter. It was a silver\nstatue richly ornamented with precious stones, resembling, as our\nauthority observes, what would now be presented to the Madonna,[329]\nwho indeed is probably no more than a Christian adaptation of the\nEgyptian goddess. And Plutarch, or another learned and ingenious writer\nwhose work has come down to us under his name, devotes a long treatise\nto Isis and Osiris, in which the mythical history of the goddess is\nas thickly covered with allegorical interpretations as the statue\ndedicated to her by the Spanish lady was with emeralds and pearls.\n\nAnother form of naturalistic religion, fitted for universal acceptance\nby its appeals to common experience, was the worship of the Sun. It\nwas probably as such that Mithras, a Syro-Persian deity, obtained\na success throughout the Roman empire which at one time seemed to\nbalance the rising fortunes of Christianity. Adoration of the heavenly\nbodies was, indeed, very common during this period, and was probably\nconnected with the extreme prevalence of astrological superstition.\nIt would also harmonise perfectly with the still surviving Olympian\nreligion of the old Hellenic aristocracy, and would profit by the\nsupport which philosophy since the time of Socrates had extended to\nthis form of supernaturalist belief. But, perhaps, for that very reason\nthe classes which had now become the ultimate arbiters of opinion,\nfelt less sympathy with Mithras-worship and other kindred cults than\nwith the Egyptian mysteries. These had a more recognisable bearing\non their own daily life, and, like the Chthonian religions of old\nGreece, they included a reference to the immortality of the soul.\nMoreover, the climate of Europe, especially of western Europe, does not\npermit the sun to become an object of such excessive adoration as in\nsouthern Asia. Mithras-worship, then, is an example of the expansive\nforce exhibited by Oriental ideas rather than of a faith which really\nsatisfied the wants of the Roman world.\n\nA far higher place must be assigned to Judaism among the competitors\nfor the allegiance of Europe. The cosmopolitan importance at one time\nassumed by this religion has been considerably obscured, owing to the\nsubsequent devolution of its part to Christianity. It is, however, by\nno means impossible that, but for the diversion created by the Gospel,\nand the disastrous consequences of their revolt against Rome, the Jews\nmight have won the world to a purified form of their own monotheism. A\nfew significant circumstances are recorded showing how much influence\nthey had acquired, even in Rome, before the first preaching of\nChristianity. The first of these is to be found in Cicero\u2019s defence of\nFlaccus. The latter was accused of appropriating part of the annual\ncontributions sent to the temple at Jerusalem; and, in dealing with\nthis charge, Cicero speaks of the Jews, who were naturally prejudiced\nagainst his client, as a powerful faction the hostility of which he is\nanxious not to provoke.[330] Some twenty years later, a great advance\nhas been made. Not only must the material interests of the Jews be\nrespected, but a certain conformity to their religious prescriptions is\nconsidered a mark of good breeding, In one of his most amusing satires,\nHorace tells us how, being anxious to shake off a bore, he appeals for\nhelp to his friend Aristius Fuscus, and reminds him of some private\nbusiness which they had to discuss together. Fuscus sees his object,\nand being mischievously determined to defeat it, answers: \u2018Yes, I\nremember perfectly, but we must wait for some better opportunity;\nthis is the thirtieth Sabbath, do you wish to insult the circumcised\nJews?\u2019 \u2018I have no scruples on that point,\u2018 replies the impatient\npoet. \u2018But I have,\u2019 rejoins Fuscus,\u2014\u2018a little weak-minded, one of\nthe many, you know\u2014excuse me, another time.\u2018[331] Nor were the Jews\ncontent with the countenance thus freely accorded them. The same poet\nelsewhere intimates that whenever they found themselves in a majority,\nthey took advantage of their superior strength to make proselytes by\nforce.\u2019[332] And they pursued the good work to such purpose that a\ncouple of generations later we find Seneca bitterly complaining that\nthe vanquished had given laws to the victors, and that the customs\nof this abominable race were established over the whole earth.[333]\nEvidence to the same effect is given by Philo Judaeus and Josephus, who\ninform us that the Jewish laws and customs were admired, imitated, and\nobeyed over the whole earth.[334] Such assertions might be suspected\nof exaggeration, were they not, to a certain extent, confirmed by the\nreferences already quoted, to which others of the same kind may be\nadded from later writers showing that it was a common practice among\nthe Romans to abstain from work on the Sabbath, and even to celebrate\nit by praying, fasting, and lighting lamps, to visit the synagogues,\nto study the law of Moses, and to pay the yearly contribution of two\ndrachmas to the temple at Jerusalem.[335]\n\nThen as now, Judaism seems to have had a much greater attraction for\nwomen than for men; and this may be accounted for not only by the\ngreater credulity of the female sex, which would equally predispose\nthem in favour of every other new religion, but also by their natural\nsympathy with the domestic virtues which are such an amiable and\ninteresting feature in the Jewish character. Josephus tells us that\ntowards the beginning of Nero\u2019s reign nearly all the women of Damascus\nwere attached to Judaism;[336] and he also mentions that Poppaea, the\nmistress and afterwards the wife of Nero, used her powerful influence\nfor the protection of his compatriots, though whether she actually\nbecame a proselyte, as some have supposed, is doubtful.[337] According\nto Ovid, the synagogues were much visited by Roman women, among\nothers, apparently, by those of easy virtue, for he alludes to them as\nresorts which the man of pleasure in search of a conquest will find it\nadvantageous to frequent.[338]\n\nThe monotheism of the Jehovist religion would seem to have marked it\nout as the natural faith of a universal empire. Yet, strange to say, it\nwas not by this element of Judaism that proselytes were most attracted.\nOur authorities are unanimous in speaking of the sabbath-observance as\nthe most distinguishing trait of the Jews themselves, and the point in\nwhich they were most scrupulously imitated by their adherents; while\nthe duty of contributing to the maintenance of the temple apparently\nstood next in popular estimation. But if this be true, it follows\nthat the liberation of the spiritualistic element in Judaism from\nits ceremonial husk was a less essential condition to the success of\nChristianity than some have supposed. What the world objected to in\nJudaism was not its concrete, historical, practical side, but its\nexclusiveness, and the hatred for other nations which it was supposed\nto breed. What the new converts wished was to take the place of the\nJews, to supersede them in the divine favour, not to improve on their\nlaw. It was useless to tell them that they were under no obligation\nto observe the sabbath, when the institution of a day of rest was\nprecisely what most fascinated them in the history of God\u2019s relations\nwith his chosen people. And it was equally useless to tell them that\nthe hour had come when the Father should not be worshipped any more at\nJerusalem but everywhere in spirit and in truth, when Jerusalem had\nbecome irrevocably associated in their minds with the establishment\nof a divine kingdom on this earth. Thus, while the religion of the\nMiddle Ages reached its intensest expression in armed pilgrimages to\nPalestine, the religion of modern Puritanism has embodied itself by\npreference in the observance of what it still delights to call the\nsabbath.\n\nIt must not be supposed that the influx of Asiatic religions into\nEurope was attended by any loss of faith in the old gods of Greece\nand Italy, or by any neglect of their worship. The researches of\nFriedl\u00e4nder have proved the absolute erroneousness of such an idea,\nwidely entertained as it has been. Innumerable monuments are in\nexistence testifying to the continued authority of the Olympian\ndivinities, and particularly of Jupiter, over the whole extent of the\nRoman empire. Ample endowments were still devoted to the maintenance\nof their service; their temples still smoked with sacrifices; their\nlitanies were still repeated as a duty which it would have been\nscandalous to neglect; in all hours of public and private danger their\nhelp was still implored, and acknowledged by the dedication of votive\nofferings when the danger was overcome; it was still believed, as in\nthe days of Homer, that they occasionally manifested themselves on\nearth, signalising their presence by works of superhuman power.[339]\nNor was there anything anomalous in this peaceable co-existence of the\nold with the new faiths. So far back as we can trace the records both\nof Greek and Roman polytheism, they are remarkable for their receptive\nand assimilative capacity. Apollo and Artemis were imported into Greece\nfrom Lycia, Heracles and Aphrodite from Phoenicia, Dionysus and Ares\nprobably from Thrace. Roman religion under its oldest form included\nboth a Latin or Sabine and an Etruscan element; at a subsequent period\nit became Hellenised without losing anything of its grave and decorous\ncharacter. In Greece, the elastic system of divine relationships was\nstretched a little further so as to make room for the new comers. The\nsame system, when introduced into Roman mythology, served to connect\nand enliven what previously had been so many rigid and isolated\nabstractions. With both, the supreme religious conception continued\nto be what it had been with their Aryan ancestors, that of a heavenly\nFather Jove; and the fashionable deities of the empire were received\ninto the pantheon of Homer and Hesiod as recovered or adopted children\nof the same Olympian sire. The danger to Hellenistic polytheism was\nnot from another form of the same type, but from a faith which should\nrefuse to amalgamate with it on any terms; and in the environment\ncreated by Roman imperialism with its unifying and cosmopolitan\ncharacter, such a faith, if it existed anywhere, could not fail in the\nlong-run to supersede and extinguish its more tolerant rivals. But\nthe immediate effect produced by giving free play to men\u2019s religious\ninstincts was not the concentration of their belief on a single object,\nor on new to the exclusion of old objects, but an extraordinary\nabundance and complexity of supernaturalism under all its forms. This\ngeneral tendency, again, admits of being decomposed into two distinct\ncurrents, according as it was determined by the introduction of alien\nsuperstitions from without, or by the development of native and popular\nsuperstition from within. But, in each case, the retrogressive movement\nresulted from the same political revolution. At once critical and\nconservative, the city-aristocracies prevented the perennial germs of\nreligious life from multiplying to any serious extent within the limits\nof their jurisdiction, no less vigilantly than they prohibited the\nimportation of its completed products from abroad. We have now to study\nthe behaviour of these germs when the restraint to which they had\nformerly been subjected was lightened or withdrawn.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe old religions of Greece and Italy were essentially oracular. While\ninculcating the existence of supernatural beings, and prescribing the\nmodes according to which such beings were to be worshipped, they paid\nmost attention to the interpretation of the signs by which either\nfuture events in general, or the consequences of particular actions,\nwere supposed to be divinely revealed. Of these intimations, some\nwere given to the whole world, so that he who ran might read, others\nwere reserved for certain favoured localities, and only communicated\nthrough the appointed ministers of the god. The Delphic oracle in\nparticular enjoyed an enormous reputation both among Greeks and\nbarbarians for guidance afforded under the latter conditions; and\nduring a considerable period it may even be said to have directed the\ncourse of Hellenic civilisation. It was also under this form that\nsupernatural religion suffered most injury from the great intellectual\nmovement which followed the Persian wars. Men who had learned to study\nthe constant sequences of Nature for themselves, and to shape their\nconduct according to fixed principles of prudence or of justice, either\nthought it irreverent to trouble the god about questions on which\nthey were competent to form an opinion for themselves, or did not\nchoose to place a well-considered scheme at the mercy of his possibly\ninterested responses. That such a revolution occurred about the middle\nof the fifth century B.C., seems proved by the great change of tone in\nreference to this subject which one perceives on passing from Aeschylus\nto Sophocles. That anyone should question the veracity of an oracle is\na supposition which never crosses the mind of the elder dramatist. A\nknowledge of augury counts among the greatest benefits conferred by\nPrometheus on mankind, and the Titan brings Zeus himself to terms by\nhis acquaintance with the secrets of destiny. Sophocles, on the other\nhand, evidently has to deal with a sceptical generation, despising\nprophecies and needing to be warned of the fearful consequences brought\nabout by neglecting their injunctions.\n\nProbably few contributed so much to the change as Socrates,\nnotwithstanding his general piety and the credulity which he exhibited\non this particular point. For his ethical and dialectical training,\ncombined with that careful study of facts which he so earnestly\nrecommended, went very far towards making a consultation of the oracle\nsuperfluous; and he did actually impress on his auditors the duty\nof dispensing with its assistance in all cases except those where\na knowledge of the future was necessary and could not be otherwise\nobtained.[340] Even so superstitious a believer as Xenophon improved on\nhis master\u2019s lessons in this respect, and instead of asking the Pythia\nwhether he should take service with the younger Cyrus\u2014as Socrates had\nadvised\u2014simply asked to what god he should sacrifice before starting on\nthe expedition. Towards the beginning of our era, as is well known, the\nGreek oracles had fallen into complete neglect and silence.\n\nBut all this time the popular belief in omens had continued unaffected,\nand had apparently even increased. The peculiar Greek feeling known\nas Deisidaimonia is first satirised by Theophrastus, who defines\nit as cowardice with regard to the gods, and gives several amusing\ninstances of the anxiety occasioned by its presence\u2014all connected with\nthe interpretation of omens\u2014such as Aristophanes could hardly have\nfailed to notice had they been usual in his time. Nor were such fancies\nconfined to the ignorant classes. Although the Stoics cannot be accused\nof Deisidaimonia, they gave their powerful sanction to the belief in\ndivination, as has been already mentioned in our account of their\nphilosophy. It would seem that whatever authority the great oracular\ncentres had lost was simply handed over to lower and more popular forms\nof the same superstition.\n\nIn Rome, as well as in Greece, rationalism took the form of disbelief\nin divination. Here at least the Epicurean, the Academician, and,\namong the Stoics, the disciple of Panaetius, were all agreed. But as\nthe sceptical movement began at a much later period in Rome than in\nthe country where it first originated, so also did the supernaturalist\nreaction come later, the age of Augustus in the one corresponding very\nnearly with the age of Alexander in the other. Virgil and Livy are\nremarkable for their faith in omens; and although the latter complains\nof the general incredulity with which narratives of such events were\nreceived, his statements are to be taken rather as an index of what\npeople thought in the age immediately preceding his own, than as\nan accurate description of contemporary opinion. Certainly nothing\ncould be farther from the truth than to say that signs and prodigies\nwere disregarded by the Romans under the empire. Even the cool and\ncautious Tacitus feels himself obliged to relate sundry marvellous\nincidents which seemed to accompany or to prefigure great historical\ncatastrophes; and the more credulous Suetonius has transcribed an\nimmense number of such incidents from the pages of older chroniclers,\nbesides informing us of the extreme attention paid even to trifling\nomens by Augustus.[341]\n\nMeanwhile the recognised methods for looking into futurity continued\nto enjoy their old popularity, and that which relied on indications\nafforded by the entrails of sacrifices was practised with unabated\nconfidence down to the time of Julian.[342] Even faith in natural law,\nwhere it existed, accommodated itself to the prevalent superstition by\ntaking the form of astrology; and it is well known what reliance the\nemperor Tiberius, for his time a singularly enlightened man, placed on\npredictions derived from observation of the starry heavens.\n\nSubsequently, with the revival of Hellenism, the Greek oracles broke\nsilence, and regained even more than their ancient reputation, as the\nincreased facilities for locomotion now rendered them accessible from\nthe remotest regions.[343] Sometimes the miraculous character of their\nresponses resulted in the conversion of hardened infidels. In this\nconnexion, the following anecdote is related by Plutarch. A certain\ngovernor of Cilicia entertained serious doubts about the gods, and was\nstill further confirmed in his impiety by the Epicureans who surrounded\nhim. This man, for the purpose of throwing discredit on the famous\noracle of Mopsus, sent a freedman to consult it, bearing a sealed\nletter containing a question with whose purport neither he nor any one\nelse except the sender was acquainted. On arriving at the oracle, the\nmessenger was admitted to pass a night within the temple, which was\nthe method of consultation usually practised there. In his sleep a\nbeautiful figure appeared to him, and after uttering the words \u2018a black\none,\u2019 immediately vanished. On hearing this answer the governor fell\non his knees in consternation, and, opening the sealed tablet, showed\nhis friends the question which it contained, \u2018Shall I sacrifice a white\nor a black bull to thee?\u2019 The Epicureans were confounded; while the\ngovernor offered up the prescribed sacrifice, and became thenceforward\na constant adorer of Mopsus.[344]\n\nNothing, as Friedl\u00e4nder observes, shows so well what intense credulity\nprevailed at this time, with reference to phenomena of a marvellous\ndescription, as the success obtained by a celebrated impostor,\nAlexander of Abonuteichus, whose adventurous career may still be\nstudied in one of Lucian\u2019s liveliest pieces. Here it will be enough\nto mention that Alexander was a clever charlatan of imposing figure,\nwinning manners, and boundless effrontery, who established himself in\nAbonuteichus, a small town in Paphlagonia, on the southern shore of\nthe Black Sea, where he made a trade of giving oracles in the name\nof Ascl\u00eapius. The god of healing was represented for the occasion by\na large tame serpent fitted with a human head made of painted canvas\nand worked by horsehair strings. Sometimes the oracular responses were\ndelivered by the mouth of the god himself. This was managed with the\nhelp of a confederate who spoke through a tube connected with the false\nhead. Such direct communications were, however, only granted as an\nexceptional favour and for a high price. In most instances the answer\nwas given in writing, and the fee charged for it only amounted to a\nshilling of our money. Alexander had originally fixed on Abonuteichus,\nwhich was his native place and therefore well known to him, as the\nseat of his operations, on account of the extraordinary superstition\nof its inhabitants; but the people of the adjacent provinces soon\nshowed themselves to be nowise behind his fellow-townsmen in their\ncredulity. The fame of the new oracle spread over all Asia Minor and\nThrace; and visitors thronged to it in such numbers as sometimes to\nproduce a scarcity of provisions. The prophet\u2019s gross receipts rose to\nan average of 3,000_l._ a year, and the office of interpreting his more\nambiguous responses became so lucrative that the two exeg\u00eates employed\nfor this purpose paid each a talent a year (240_l._) for the privilege\nof exercising it.\n\nIt was from the Epicureans, of whom we are told that there were a\nconsiderable number in these parts, that the most serious opposition\nto the impostor proceeded; but he contrived to silence their\ncriticisms by denouncing them to the fanatical multitude as \u2018atheists\nand Christians.\u2019 Towards Epicurus himself Alexander nourished an\nundying hatred; and when the oracle was consulted with regard to\nthat philosopher\u2019s fate, it made answer that he was \u2018bound in leaden\nchains and seated in a morass.\u2019 The \u03ba\u03cd\u03c1\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9 \u03b4\u03cc\u03be\u03b1\u03b9, or summary of the\nEpicurean creed, he publicly burned and threw its ashes into the sea;\nand one unfortunate town which contained a large school of Epicureans\nhe punished by refusing its inhabitants access to the oracle. On the\nother hand, according to Lucian, he was on the best of terms with the\ndisciples of Plato, Chrysippus, and Pythagoras.[345]\n\nAt last tidings of the oracle made their way to Italy and Rome, where\nthey created intense excitement, particularly among the leading men\nof the state. One of these, Rutilianus, a man of consular dignity and\nwell known for his abject superstition, threw himself head-foremost\ninto the fashionable delusion. He sent off messenger after messenger in\nhot haste to the shrine of Ascl\u00eapius; and the wily Paphlagonian easily\ncontrived that the reports which they carried back should still further\ninflame the curiosity and wonder of his noble devotee. But, in truth,\nno great refinement of imposture was needed to complete the capture\nof such a willing dupe. One of his questions was, what teacher should\nhe employ to direct the studies of his son? Pythagoras and Homer were\nrecommended in the oracular response. A few days afterwards, the boy\ndied, much to the discomfiture of Alexander, whose enemies took the\nopportunity of triumphing over what seemed an irretrievable mistake.\nBut Rutilianus himself came to the rescue. The oracle, he said, clearly\nforeshadowed his son\u2019s death, by naming teachers who could only be\nfound in the world below. Finally, on being consulted with regard to\nthe choice of a wife, the oracle promptly recommended the daughter\nof Alexander and the Moon; for the prophet professed to have enjoyed\nthe favours of that goddess in the same circumstances as Endymion.\nRutilianus, who was at this time sixty years old, at once complied with\nthe divine injunction, and celebrated his marriage by sacrificing\nwhole hecatombs to his celestial mother-in-law.\n\nWith so powerful a protector, Alexander might safely bid his enemies\ndefiance. The governor of Bithynia had to entreat Lucian, whose life\nhad been threatened by the impostor, to keep out of harm\u2019s way.\n\u2018Should anything happen to you,\u2019 he said, \u2018I could not afford to\noffend Rutilianus by bringing his father-in-law to justice.\u2019 Even the\nbest and wisest man then living yielded to the prevalent delusion.\nMarcus Aurelius, who was at that time fighting with the Marcomanni,\nwas induced to act on an oracle from Abonuteichus, promising that if\ntwo lions were thrown into the Danube a great victory would be the\nresult. The animals made their way safely to the opposite bank; but\nwere beaten to death with clubs by the barbarians, who mistook them for\nsome outlandish kind of wolf or dog; and the imperial army was shortly\nafterwards defeated with a loss of 20,000 men.[346] Alexander helped\nhimself out of the difficulty with the stale excuse that he had only\nforetold a victory, without saying which side should win. He was not\nmore successful in determining the duration of his own life, which came\nto an end before he had completed seventy years, instead of lasting,\nas he had prophesied, for a hundred and fifty. This miscalculation,\nhowever, seems not to have impaired his reputation, for even after\nhis death it was believed that a statue of him in the market-place of\nParium in Mysia had the power of giving oracles.[347]\n\n\nVI.\n\nAnother wide-spread superstition was the belief in prophetic or\npremonitory dreams. This was shared by some even among those who\nrejected supernatural religion,\u2014a phenomenon not unparalleled at the\npresent day. Thus the elder Pliny tells us how a soldier of the\nPraetorian Guard in Rome was cured of hydrophobia by a remedy revealed\nin a dream to his mother in Spain, and communicated by her to him.\nThe letter describing it was written without any knowledge of his\nmishap, and arrived just in time to save his life.[348] And Pliny\nwas himself induced by a dream to undertake the history of the Roman\ncampaigns in Germany.[349] Religious believers naturally put at least\nequal confidence in what they imagined to be revelations of the divine\nwill. Galen, the great physician, often allowed himself to be guided\nby dreams in the treatment of his patients, and had every reason to\ncongratulate himself on the result. The younger Pliny, Suetonius,\nDion Cassius, and the emperors Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, were\nall influenced in a similar manner; and among these Dion, who stands\nlast in point of time, shows by his repeated allusions to the subject\nthat superstition, so far from diminishing, was continually on the\nincrease.[350]\n\nIt was natural that the best methods of interpreting so useful a\nsource of information should be greatly sought after, and that they\nshould be systematised in treatises expressly devoted to the subject.\nOne such work, the _Oneirocritica_ of Artemid\u00f4rus, is still extant.\nIt was composed towards the end of the second century, as its author\ntells us, at the direct and repeated command of Apollo. According to\nArtemid\u00f4rus, the general belief in prophecy and in the existence of\nprovidence must stand or fall with the belief in prophetic dreams. He\nlooked on the compilation of his work as the fulfilment of a religious\nmission, and his whole life was devoted to collecting the materials\nfor it. His good faith is, we are told, beyond question, his industry\nis enormous, and he even exercises considerable discrimination in\nselecting and elucidating the phenomena which are represented to us as\nmanifestations of a supernatural interest in human affairs. Thus his\nbeliefs may be taken as a fair gauge of the extent to which educated\nopinion had at that time become infected with vulgar superstition.[351]\n\nDreams, like oracles, were occasionally employed for the conversion of\ninfidels. An incident of the kind is related by Aelian, a writer who\nflourished early in the third century, and who is remarkable, even in\nthat age, for his bigoted orthodoxy. A certain man named Euphronius,\nhe tells us, whose delight was to study the blasphemous nonsense of\nEpicurus, fell very ill of consumption, and sought in vain for help\nfrom the skill of the physicians. He was already at death\u2019s door, when,\nas a last resource, his friends placed him in the temple of Ascl\u00eapius.\nThere he dreamed that a priest came to him and said, \u2018This man\u2019s only\nchance of salvation is to burn the impious books of Epicurus, knead\nthe ashes up with wax, and use the mixture as a poultice for his chest\nand stomach.\u2019 On awakening, he followed the divine prescription, was\nrestored to health, and became a model of piety for the rest of his\nlife. The same author gives us a striking instance of prayer answered,\nalso redounding to the credit of Ascl\u00eapius, the object of whose favour\nis, however, on this occasion not a human being but a fighting-cock.\nThe scene is laid at Tanagra, where the bird in question, having had\nhis foot hurt, and evidently acting under the influence of divine\ninspiration, joins a choir who are singing the praises of Ascl\u00eapius,\ncontributing his share to the sacred concert, and, to the best of\nhis ability, keeping time with the other performers. \u2018This he did,\nstanding on one leg and stretching out the other, as if to show its\npitiable condition. So he sang to his saviour as far as the strength\nof his voice would permit, and prayed that he might recover the use\nof his limb.\u2019 The petition is granted, whereupon our hero claps his\nwings and struts about \u2018with outstretched neck and nodding crest like a\nproud warrior, thus proclaiming the power of providence over irrational\nanimals.\u2019[352]\n\nAelian mentions other remarkable examples of the piety displayed by\nbrutes. \u2018Elephants worship the sun, stretching out their trunks to it\nlike hands when it rises while men doubt the existence of the gods,\nor at least their care for us.\u2019 \u2018There is an island in the Black Sea,\nsacred to Heracles, where the mice touch nothing that belongs to the\ngod. When the grapes which are intended to be used for his sacrifices\nbegin to ripen, they quit the island in order to escape the temptation\nof nibbling at them, coming back when the vintage is over. Hippo,\nDiagoras, Herostratus, and other enemies of the gods would, no doubt,\nspare these grapes just as little as anything else that was consecrated\nto their use.\u2019[353]\n\nIt is, perhaps, characteristic of the times that Aelian\u2019s stories\nshould redound more especially to the credit of Ascl\u00eapius and Heracles,\nwho were not gods of the first order, but demi-gods or deified mortals.\nTheir worship, like that of the Nature-powers connected with earth\nrather than with heaven, belongs particularly to the popular religion,\nand seems to have been repressed or restrained in societies organised\non aristocratic principles. And as more immediate products of the\nforces by which supernaturalist beliefs are created and maintained,\nsuch divinities would profit by the free scope now given to popular\npredilections. In their case also, as with the earth-goddesses\nD\u00eam\u00eat\u00ear and Isis, a more immediate and affectionate relation might be\nestablished between the believer and the object of his worship than\nhad been possible in reference to the chief Olympian gods. Heracles\nhad lived the life of a man, his activity had been almost uniformly\nbeneficent, and so he was universally invoked, as a helper and healer,\nin the sick-chamber no less than on the storm-tost ship.[354]\nAscl\u00eapius was still more obviously the natural refuge of those who were\nafflicted with any bodily disease, and, in a time of profound peace,\nthis was of all calamities the most likely to turn men\u2019s thoughts\ntowards a supernatural protector. Hence we find that where, apart from\nChristianity, the religious enthusiasm of the second century reaches\nits intensest expression, which is in the writings of the celebrated\nrhetor Aristeides, Ascl\u00eapius comes in for the largest share of\ndevotional feeling. During an illness which continued through thirteen\nyears, Aristeides sought day and night for help and inspiration\nfrom the god. It came at last in the usual form of a prescription\ncommunicated through a dream. Both on this and on other occasions, the\nexcitement of an overwrought imagination combined with an exorbitant\nvanity made the sophist believe himself to be preferred above all other\nmen as an object of the divine favour. At one time he would see himself\nadmitted in his dreams to an exchange of compliments with Ascl\u00eapius;\nat other times he would convert the most ordinary incidents into signs\nof supernatural protection. Thus his foster-sister having died on the\nday of his own recovery from a dangerous epidemic, it was revealed\nto him in a dream that her life had been accepted as a ransom for\nhis. We are told that the monks of the Middle Ages could not refrain\nfrom expressing their indignant contempt for the insane credulity of\nAristeides, in marginal notes on his orations; but the last-mentioned\nincident, at least, is closely paralleled by the well-known story that\na devout lady was once permitted to redeem the life of Pius IX. by the\nsacrifice of her own.[355]\n\nBesides this increasing reverence paid to the deified mortals\nof ancient mythology, the custom of bestowing divine honours on\nillustrious men after or even before their death, found new scope\nfor its exercise under the empire. Among the manifestations of this\ntendency, the apotheosis of the emperors themselves, of course, ranks\nfirst. We are accustomed to think of it as part of the machinery of\ndespotism, surrounded by official ceremonies and enforced by cruel\npunishments; but, in fact, it first originated in a spontaneous\nmovement of popular feeling; and in the case of Marcus Aurelius at\nleast, it was maintained for a whole century, if not longer, by the\nmere force of public opinion. And many prophecies (which, as usual,\ncame true) were made on the strength of revelations received from him\nin dreams.[356] But a much stronger proof of the prevalent tendency\nis furnished by the apotheosis of Antinous. In its origin this may be\nattributed to the caprice of a voluptuous despot; but its perpetuation\nlong after the motives of flattery or of fear had ceased to act, shows\nthat the worship of a beautiful youth, who was believed to have given\nhis life for another, satisfied a deep-seated craving of the age. It\nis possible that, in this and other instances, the deified mortal may\nhave passed for the representative or incarnation of some god who was\nalready believed to have led an earthly existence, and might therefore\nreadily revisit the scene of his former activity. Thus Antinous\nconstantly appears with the attributes of Dionysus; and Apollonius\nof Tyana, the celebrated Pythagorean prophet of the first century,\nwas worshipped at Ephesus in the time of Lactantius under the name of\nHeracles Alexicacus, that is, Heracles the defender from evil.[357]\n\n\nVII.\n\nWe now pass to a form of supernaturalism more characteristic than any\nother of the direction which men\u2019s thoughts were taking under the\nRoman empire, and more or less profoundly connected with all the other\nreligious manifestations which have hitherto engaged our attention.\nThis is the doctrine of immortality, a doctrine far more generally\naccepted in the first centuries of the Christian era, but quite apart\nfrom Christian influence, than is supposed by most persons. Here our\nmost trustworthy information is derived from the epigraphic monuments.\nBut for them, we might have continued to believe that public opinion on\nthis subject was faithfully reflected by a few sceptical writers, who\nwere, in truth, speaking only for themselves and for the numerically\ninsignificant class to which they belonged. Not that the inscriptions\nall point one way and the books another way. On the contrary, there\nare epitaphs most distinctly repudiating the notion of a life beyond\nthe grave, just as there are expressions let fall by men of learning\nwhich show that they accepted it as true. As much might be expected\nfrom the divisions then prevailing in the speculative world. Of all\nphilosophical systems, Epicureanism was, at this time, the most widely\ndiffused: its adherents rejected the belief in another world as a\nmischievous delusion; and many of them seem to have carefully provided\nthat their convictions should be recorded on their tombs. The monument\nof one such philosopher, dedicated to eternal sleep, is still extant;\nothers are dedicated to safe repose; others, again, speak of the\nopposite belief as a vain imagination. A favourite epitaph with persons\nof this school runs as follows:\u2014\u2018I was nothing and became, I was and am\nno more, so much is true. To speak otherwise is to lie, for I shall be\nno more.\u2019[358] Sometimes, from the depths of their unconsciousness,\nthe dead are made to express indifference to the loss of existence.\nSometimes, in what was popularly believed to be the spirit of\nEpicureanism, but was, in reality, most alien to it, they exhort the\npasser-by to indulge his appetites freely, since death is the end of\nall.\n\nIt must further be noted that disbelief in a future life, as a\nphilosophical principle, was not confined to the Epicureans. All\nphilosophers except the Platonists and Pythagoreans were materialists;\nand no logical thinker who had once applied his mind to the subject\ncould accept such an absurdity as the everlasting duration of a\ncomplex corporeal substance, whether consisting of gaseous or of fiery\nmatter. A majority of the Stoics allowed the soul to continue its\nindividual existence until, in common with the whole world, it should\nbe reabsorbed into the elemental fire; but others looked forward to a\nmore speedy extinction, without ceasing on that account to consider\nthemselves orthodox members of the school. Of these the most remarkable\ninstance is Marcus Aurelius. The great emperor was not blind to what\nseemed the enormous injustice of death, and did not quite see his way\nto reconciling it with the Stoic belief in a beneficent providence; but\nthe difficulty of finding room for so many ghosts, and perhaps also the\nHeracleitean dogma of perpetual transformation, led him to renounce\nwhatever hope he may at one time have cherished of entering on a new\nexistence in some better world.[359] A similar consequence was involved\nin the principles of the Peripatetic philosophy; and Alexander of\nAphrodisias, the famous Aristotelian commentator, who flourished about\n200 A.D., affirms the perishable nature of the soul on his own account,\nand, with perfect justice, attributes the same belief to Aristotle\nhimself.[360]\n\nAmong the scientific and literary men who were not pledged to any\nparticular school, we find the elder Pliny rejecting the belief in\nimmortality, not only as irrational but as the reverse of consolatory.\nIt robs us, he declares, of Nature\u2019s most especial boon, which is\ndeath, and doubles the pangs of dissolution by the prospect of\ncontinued existence elsewhere.[361] Quintilian leaves the question\nundecided;[362] Tacitus expresses himself doubtfully;[363] and Galen,\nwhose great physiological knowledge enabled him to see how fallacious\nwere Plato\u2019s arguments, while his philosophical training equally\nseparated him from the materialists, also refuses to pronounce in\nfavour of either side.[364] What Juvenal thought is uncertain; but,\nfrom his general tone, we may conjecture that he leant to the negative\nside.[365]\n\nAgainst these we have to set the confident expressions of belief in a\nfuture life employed by all the Platonists and Pythagoreans, and by\nsome of the Stoic school. But their doctrines on the subject will be\nmost advantageously explained when we come to deal with the religious\nphilosophy of the age as a whole. What we have now to examine is the\ngeneral condition of popular belief as evinced by the character of the\nfunereal monuments erected in the time of the empire. Our authorities\nare agreed in stating that the majority of these bear witness to a\nwide-spread and ever-growing faith in immortality, sometimes conveyed\nunder the form of inscriptions, sometimes under that of figured\nreliefs, sometimes more na\u00efvely signified by articles placed in the\ntomb for use in another world. \u2018I am waiting for my husband,\u2019 is the\ninscription placed over his dead wife by one who was, like her, an\nenfranchised slave. Elsewhere a widow \u2018commends her departed husband to\nthe gods of the underworld, and prays that they will allow his spirit\nto revisit her in the hours of the night.\u2019[366] \u2018In death thou art not\ndead,\u2019 are the words deciphered on one mouldering stone. \u2018No,\u2019 says\na father to a son whom he had lost in Numidia, \u2018thou hast not gone\ndown to the abode of the Manes but risen to the stars of heaven.\u2019 At\nDoxato, near Philippi in Macedonia, \u2018a mother has graven on the tomb of\nher child: \u201cWe are crushed by a cruel blow, but thou hast renewed thy\nbeing and art dwelling in the Elysian fields.\u201d\u2019[367] This conception\nof the future world as a heavenly and happy abode where human souls\nare received into the society of the gods, recurs with especial\nfrequency in the Greek epitaphs, but is also met with in Latin-speaking\ncountries. And, considering how great a part the worship of departed\nspirits plays in all primitive religions, just such a tendency might be\nexpected to show itself at such a time, if, as we have contended, the\nconditions of society under the empire were calculated to set free the\noriginal forces by which popular faith is created. It seems, therefore,\nrather arbitrary to assume, as Friedl\u00e4nder does,[368] that the movement\nin question was entirely due to Platonic influence,\u2014especially\nconsidering that there are distinct traces of it to be found in\nPindar;\u2014although at the same time we may grant that it was powerfully\nfostered by Plato\u2019s teaching, and received a fresh impulse from the\nreconstitution of his philosophy in the third century of our era.\n\nSide by side, however, with these exalted aspirations, the old popular\nbelief in a subterranean abode of souls survived under its very crudest\nforms; and here also modern explorations have brought to light very\nsurprising evidence of the strength with which the grotesque idea of\nCharon the Stygian ferryman still kept its hold on the imagination of\nuneducated people. Originally peculiar to Greece, where it still exists\nunder a slightly altered form, this superstition penetrated into the\nWest at a comparatively early period. Thus in the tombs of Campania\nalone many hundred skeletons have been found with bronze coins in\ntheir mouths, placed there to pay their passage across the Styx; and\nexplorations at Praeneste show that this custom reaches back to the\nmiddle of the fourth century B.C. We also learn from Lucian that, in\nhis time, the old animistic beliefs were entertained to the extent of\nburning or burying the clothes, ornaments, and other appurtenances\nof deceased persons along with their bodies, under the idea that the\nowners required them for use in the other world; and it is to such\ndeposits that our museums of classical antiquity owe the greater part\nof their contents.[369]\n\nWhen the belief in a future life assumes the form last mentioned, it\nis, as we have said, simply a survival of the most primitive animism,\nnot testifying to any religious reaction at the time when it can be\nproved to have flourished. It is introduced in the present connexion\nmerely to show what ideas were current among those classes to whose\nopinions Roman civilisation was gradually giving irresistible weight.\nHow the minds of the richer and more educated classes were affected\nby this underlying stratum, is shown by the nature of the figured\nrepresentations with which their last abodes were ornamented. Everyone\nhas been made tolerably familiar with these through the sculptured\nsarcophagi preserved in our museums; but, from their symbolical\ncharacter, the significance of the reliefs with which they are\ndecorated is not obvious at first sight; and some of the mythical\nadventures thus embodied may have been wrought without any reference to\nthe destination of the dark and narrow chamber which they enclosed, or\nmay even have been intended to divert the imagination from sad thoughts\nby the luxuriance of rushing life and joy and victory which they\ndisplayed; but after making every possible deduction on this score,\nthere remain many others offering a deeper source of consolation to\nthe bereaved survivor by the pictured promise of future reunion with\nthose whom he had loved and lost. One favourite subject is the visit\nof Diana to the sleeping Endymion, by which is clearly foreshadowed\nan awakening to divine felicity from the sleep of death. The rape of\nProserpine, followed by her restoration to the upper world, conveys\na similar intention; as also does the fate of Adonis, since he too\nwas believed to have risen from the dead. The marriage of Bacchus\nand Ariadne unquestionably symbolises the exchange of an earthly for\na heavenly life; and the scenes of Bacchic revelry with which the\ninterior of some tombs is decorated, were, to the imagination of those\nwho designed them, no unbecoming image of the joys awaiting a blessed\nsoul in its celestial abode. An inscription of which we have already\nquoted the opening words expresses in terms that hope of companionship\nwith the joyous band of Dionysus at which the plastic representations\ncan but mutely hint. \u2018Now in a flowery meadow,\u2019 says the mourning\nmother of Doxato to her child, \u2018the priestess marked with a sacred\nseal is enrolling thee in the troop of Bacchus, where the Naiads that\nbear the sacred baskets claim thee as their fellow to lead the solemn\nprocession by the light of torches.\u2019 At the same time, a tenderer or\ngraver note is often struck. The stories of Adm\u00eatus and Alcestis, of\nProtesilaus and Laodameia, point to a renewal of conjugal love beyond\nthe grave. What were formerly supposed to be scenes representing the\neternal farewell of husband and wife are, in the opinion of modern\narchaeologists, pictures of their restoration to each other\u2019s arms.\nRising higher still, Achilles among the daughters of Lycom\u00eades probably\ntypifies the liberation of an immortal spirit from the seductions of\nsense. The labours of Heracles recall his apotheosis, and seem to show\nthat a life of noble effort shall be rewarded hereafter. The battle\nof the Amazons is an allegory of strife with and triumph over the\ntemptations of earthly delight. Another often-recurring theme, the\nhunting of the Calydonian boar, may mean the soul\u2019s victory over death;\nbut this explanation is offered only as a conjecture of the present\nwriter\u2019s.\n\nA remarkable circumstance connected with the evidence afforded by\nthe figured monuments is its progressive character. According to M.\nRavaisson, \u2018As time goes on, the indications of belief in a future\nlife, instead of becoming fainter, grow clearer and more distinct.\nMore and more exalted ideas are formed of the soul\u2019s destiny, and ever\nincreasing honours are paid to the dead. Moreover, these ideas and\npractices are extended so as to cover a greater number of individuals.\nAt first it would seem that the only persons whose fate excites any\ninterest are kings and heroes, the children or the descendants of the\ngods; in the course of time many others, and at last all, or nearly\nall, are admitted to a share in the same regard. The ancient principle\nthat happiness is reserved for those who resemble the gods remains\nunchanged; but the notion of what constitutes resemblance to the gods,\nor in other words perfection, gradually becomes so modified, that all\nmen may aspire to reach it.\u2019[370]\n\nWe are here in presence of a phenomenon like that to which attention\nwas invited in an early chapter of this work.[371] The belief in\nimmortality, entertained under a gloomy and repulsive form by the\nuneducated, is taken up by the higher classes, brought into contact\nwith their more generous ideas, broadened, deepened, purified, and\nfinally made the basis of a new religion. Nevertheless, in the present\ninstance at least, all was not clear gain; and the faith which smiles\non us from storied sarcophagus and mural relief, or pleads for our\nsympathy in epitaphs more enduring than the hope which they enshrine,\nhad also its grotesque and hideous side, for an expression of which we\nmust turn to literature again.\n\nOnce credited with a continued existence, the departed spirit would not\nremain in the Hades or the Elysium provided for it by the justice or\nthe piety, of the survivor, but persisted in returning to this world\nand manifesting a most uncomfortable interest in its affairs; or,\neven if willing to remain at rest, it was liable to be dragged back\nby incantations, and compelled to reveal the secrets of futurity at\nthe bidding of an unprincipled magician. What science and good feeling\ncombined have proved unable to keep down among ourselves, naturally\nraged with unmitigated virulence at a time when the primitive barbarism\nand superstition were only covered over by a crust of culture which\nat many points was growing thinner every day. Among Latin writers,\nthe younger Pliny, Suetonius, and Apuleius, among Greek writers,\nPlutarch, Pausanias, Maximus Tyrius, Philostratus, and Dion Cassius,\nafford unequivocal evidence of their belief and the belief of their\ncontemporaries in ghostly apparitions; and Lucian, while rejecting\nghost-stories on his own account, speaks as if they were implicitly\naccepted even in philosophical circles.[372] Still more abundant is\nthe evidence proving the frequency of attempts made to evoke spirits\nby means of magical incantations. Horace\u2019s Canidia boasts that she can\nraise the dead even after their bodies have been burned.[373] Lucan\ndescribes the process of conjuring up a ghost at length; and it is\nthought that he inserted the whole scene in his poem as a satire on the\nemperor Nero, who is known to have been addicted to such practices, as\nwere also his successors, Didius Julianus, Caracalla, and Elagabalus.\nAnd that the same art was cultivated by private persons is clear from\nthe allusions made to it by Quintilian, Apuleius, Tertullian, and\nHeliod\u00f4rus.[374]\n\n\nVIII.\n\nWe have now to consider how the philosophy of the empire was affected\nby the atmosphere of supernaturalism which surrounded it on every side.\nOf the Epicureans it need only be said that they were true to their\ntrust, and upheld the principles of their founder so long as the sect\nitself continued to exist. But we may reckon it as a first consequence\nof the religious reaction, that, after Lucretius, Epicureanism failed\nto secure the adhesion of a single eminent man, and that, even as a\npopular philosophy, it suffered by the competition of other systems,\namong which Stoicism long maintained the foremost place. We showed\nin a former chapter how strong a religious colouring was given to\ntheir teaching by the earlier Stoics, especially Cleanthes. It would\nappear, however, that Panaetius discarded many of the superstitions\naccepted by his predecessors, possibly as a concession to that revived\nScepticism which was so vigorously advocated just before his time; and\nit was under the form imposed on it by this philosopher that Stoicism\nfirst gained acceptance in Roman society; if indeed the rationalism\nof Panaetius was not itself partly determined by his intercourse with\nsuch liberal minds as Laelius and the younger Scipio. But Posidonius,\nhis successor, already marks the beginning of a reactionary movement;\nand, in Virgil, Stoical opinions are closely associated with an\nunquestioning acceptance of the ancient Roman faith. The attitude of\nSeneca is much more independent; he is full of contempt for popular\nsuperstition, and his god is not very distinguishable from the order\nof Nature. Yet his tendency towards clothing philosophical instruction\nin religious terms deserves notice, as a symptom of the superior\nfacility with which such terms lent themselves to didactic purposes.\nAcceptance of the universal order became more intelligible under the\nname of obedience to a divine decree; the unity of the human race and\nthe obligations resulting therefrom impressed themselves more deeply\non the imaginations of those who heard that men are all members of\none body; the supremacy of reason over appetite became more assured\nwhen its dictates were interpreted as the voice of a god within the\nsoul.[375]\n\nThe religious tendency of Seneca\u2019s philosophy appears rather in his\npsychology than in his metaphysics, in the stress which he lays on\nhuman immortality rather than in his discussions on creation and\ndivine providence. His statements on this subject are not, indeed,\nvery consistent, death being sometimes spoken of as the end of\nconsciousness, and at other times, as the beginning of a new life,\nthe \u2018birthday of eternity,\u2019 to quote a phrase afterwards adopted\nby Christian preachers. Nor can we be absolutely certain that the\npromised eternity is not merely another way of expressing the soul\u2019s\nabsorption into and identification with the fiery element whence it\nwas originally derived. This, however, is an ambiguity to be met with\nin other doctrines of a spiritual existence after death, nor is it\nentirely absent from the language even of Christian theologians. What\ndeserves attention is that, whether the future life spoken of by Seneca\nbe taken in a literal or in a figurative sense, it is equally intended\nto lead our thoughts away from the world of sensible experience to a\nmore ideal order of things; and, to that extent, it falls in with the\nmore general religious movement of the age. Whether Zeller is, for\nthat reason, justified in speaking of him as a Platonising Stoic seems\nmore questionable; for the Stoics always agreed with Plato in holding\nthat the soul is distinct from and superior to the body, and that it\nis consubstantial with the animating principle of Nature. The same\ncircumstances which were elsewhere leading to a revival of Platonism,\nequally tended to develope this side of Stoicism, but it seems needless\nto seek for a closer connexion between the two phenomena.[376]\n\nOn passing from Seneca to Epict\u00eatus, we find that the religious element\nhas received a considerable accession of strength, so considerable,\nindeed, that the simple progress of time will not altogether account\nfor it. Something is due to the superior devoutness of the Eastern\nmind\u2014Epict\u00eatus was a Phrygian,\u2014and still more to the difference in\nstation between the two philosophers. As a noble, Seneca belonged to\nthe class which was naturally most inclined to adopt an independent\nattitude towards the popular beliefs; as a slave, Epict\u00eatus belonged to\nthe class which was naturally most amenable to their authority. It was,\nhowever, no accident that philosophy should, at a distance of only a\ngeneration, be represented by two such widely contrasted individuals;\nfor the whole tendency of Roman civilisation was, as we have seen, to\nbring the Oriental element and the servile element of society into\never-increasing prominence. Nothing proves the ascendency of religious\nconsiderations in the mind of Epict\u00eatus more strongly than his aversion\nfrom the physical enquiries which were eagerly prosecuted by Seneca.\nNature interests him solely as a manifestation of divine wisdom and\ngoodness. As a consequence of this intensified religious feeling,\nthe Stoic theory of natural law is transformed, with Epict\u00eatus, into\nan expression of filial submission to the divine will, while the\nStoic teleology becomes an enumeration of the blessings showered by\nprovidence on man. In the latter respect, his standpoint approaches\nvery near to that of Socrates, who, although a free-born Athenian\ncitizen, belonged, like him, to the poorer classes, and sympathised\ndeeply with their feeling of dependence on supernatural protection,\u2014a\nremark which also applies to the humble day-labourer Cleanthes.\nEpict\u00eatus also shares the idea, characteristic of the Platonic rather\nthan of the Xenophontic Socrates, that the philosopher is entrusted\nwith a mission from God, without which it would be perilous for him to\nundertake the office of a teacher, and which, in the discharge of that\noffice, he should keep constantly before his eyes. But the dialectical\nelement which with Socrates had furnished so strong a counterpoise to\nthe authoritative and traditional side of his philosophy, is almost\nentirely wanting in the discourses of his imitator, and the little\nof it which he admits is valued only as a means of silencing the\nSceptics. On the other hand, the weakness and insignificance of human\nnature, considered on the individual side, are abundantly illustrated,\nand contemptuous diminutives are habitually used in speaking of its\ncomponent parts.[378] It would seem that the attitude of prostration\nbefore an overwhelming external authority prevented Epict\u00eatus from\nlooking very favourably on the doctrine of individual immortality;\nand even if he accepted that doctrine, which seems in the highest\ndegree improbable, it held a much less important place in his thoughts\nthan in those of Cicero and Seneca. It would seem, also, that the\nStoic materialism was betraying its fundamental incompatibility with\na hope originally borrowed from the idealism of Plato. Nor was this\nrenunciation inconsistent with the ethical dualism which drew a sharp\nline of distinction between flesh and spirit in the constitution of\nman, for the superiority of the spirit arose from its identity with\nthe divine substance into which it was destined to be reabsorbed after\ndeath.[379]\n\nIf, in the philosophy of Epict\u00eatus, physics and morality become\nentirely identified with religion, religion, on the other hand, remains\nentirely natural and moral. It is an offering not of prayer but of\npraise, a service less of ceremonies and sacrifices than of virtuous\ndeeds, a study of conscience rather than of prophecy, a faith not so\nmuch in supernatural portents as in providential law.[380] But in\narriving at Marcus Aurelius, we have overstepped the line which divides\nrational religion from superstition. Instances of the good emperor\u2019s\nastonishing credulity have already been given and need not be repeated.\nThey are enough to show that his lavish expenditure on public worship\nwas dictated by something more than a regard for established customs.\nWe know, indeed, that the hecatombs with which his victories were\ncelebrated gave occasion to profane merriment even in the society\nof that period. On one occasion, a petition was passed from hand to\nhand, purporting to be addressed to the emperor by the white oxen,\nand deprecating his success on the ground that if he won they were\nlost.[381] Yet the same Marcus Aurelius, in speaking of his predecessor\nAntoninus, expressly specifies piety without superstition as one of the\ntraits in his character which were most deserving of imitation.[382]\nAnd, undoubtedly, the mental condition of those who were continually in\nan agony of fear lest they should incur the divine displeasure by some\npurely arbitrary act or omission, or who supposed that the gods might\nbe bribed into furthering their iniquitous enterprises, was beyond all\ncomparison further removed from true wisdom than the condition of those\nwho believed themselves to be favoured by particular manifestations\nof the divine beneficence, perhaps as a recompense for their earnest\nattempts to lead a just and holy life. We may conclude, then, that\nphilosophy, while injuriously affected by the supernaturalist movement,\nstill protected its disciples against the more virulent forms of\nsuperstition, and by entering into combination with the popular belief,\nraised it to a higher level of feeling and of thought. It was not,\nhowever, by Stoicism that the final reconciliation of ancient religion\nwith philosophy could be accomplished, but by certain older forms of\nspeculation which we now proceed to study.\n\nIn the preceding chapter we attempted to show that the tendency of\nRoman thought, when brought into contact with the Greek systems,\nwas to resolve them into their component elements, or to throw them\nback on their historical antecedents. As a result of this dissolving\nprocess, the Stoicism of the second century split up into a number of\nmore or less conflicting principles, each of which received exclusive\nprominence according to the changeful mood of the thinker who resorted\nto philosophy for consolation or for help. Stoicism had originally\nembraced the dynamism of Heracleitus, the teleology of Socrates,\nthe physical morality of Prodicus and his Cynic successors, the\nsystematising dialectic of Aristotle, the psychism of Plato and the\nPythagoreans, and, to a certain extent, the superstitions of popular\nmythology. With Epict\u00eatus, we find the Cynic and the Socratic elements\nmost clearly developed, with Marcus Aurelius, the Socratic and the\nHeracleitean, the latter being especially strong in the meditations\nwritten shortly before his death. In the eastern provinces of the\nempire, Cynicism was preached as an independent system of morality, and\nobtained great success by its popular and propagandist character. Dion\nChrysostom, a much-admired lecturer of the second century, speaks with\nenthusiasm of its most famous representative Diogenes, and recounts,\nwith evident gusto, some of the most shameless actions attributed,\nperhaps falsely, to that eccentric philosopher.[383] And the popular\nrhetorician Maximus Tyrius, although a professed Platonist, places the\nCynic life above every other.[384] But the traditions of Cynicism were\nthoroughly opposed to the prevalent polytheism; and its whole attitude\nwas calculated to repel rather than to attract minds penetrated with\nthe enthusiastic spirit of the age. To all such the Neo-Pythagorean\ndoctrine came as a welcome revelation.\n\nAfter its temporary adoption by the Academy, Pythagoreanism had\nceased to exist as an independent system, but continued to lead a\nsort of underground life in connexion with the Orphic and Dionysiac\nmysteries. When or where it reappeared under a philosophical form\ncannot be certainly determined. Zeller fixes on the beginning of the\nfirst century B.C. as the most probable date, and on Alexandria as the\nmost probable scene of its renewed speculative activity.[385] Some\nfifty years later, we find Pythagorean teachers in Rome, and traces of\ntheir influence are plainly discernible in the Augustan literature.\nUnder its earliest form, the new system was an attempt to combine\nmathematical mysticism with principles borrowed from the Stoic and\nother philosophies; or perhaps it was simply a return to the poetical\nsyncretism of Empedocles. Although composed of fire and air, the soul\nis declared to be immortal; and lessons of holiness are accompanied\nby an elaborate code of rules for ceremonial purification. The elder\nSextius, from whom Seneca derived much of his ethical enthusiasm,\nprobably belonged to this school. He taught a morality apparently\nidentical with that of Stoicism in every point except the inculcation\nof abstinence from animal food.[386] To this might be added the\npractice of nightly self-confession\u2014an examination from the moral point\nof view of how one\u2019s whole day has been spent,\u2014were we certain that the\nStoics did not originate it for themselves.[387]\n\nThe alliance between Neo-Pythagoreanism and Stoicism did not last long.\nTheir fundamental principles were too radically opposed to admit of\nany reconciliation, except what could be effected by the absorption of\nboth into a more comprehensive system. And Roman Stoicism, at least,\nwas too practical, too scientific, too sane, to assimilate what must\nhave seemed a curious amalgam of mathematical jugglery and dreamy\nasceticism; while the reputation of belonging to what passed for a\nsecret society would be regarded with particular dread in the vicinity\nof the imperial court,\u2014it was, in fact, for this particular reason that\nthe elder Seneca persuaded his son to renounce the vegetarian diet\nwhich Sotion had induced him to adopt,\u2014and the suspicious hostility of\nthe public authorities may have had something to do with the speedy\ndisappearance of Neo-Pythagoreanism from Rome.[388] On the other hand,\nso coarsely materialistic and utilitarian a doctrine as that of the\nPorch, must have been equally repulsive to the spiritualism which,\nwhile it discerned a deep kinship permeating all forms of animal\nexistence, saw in the outward conditions of that existence only the\nprison or the tomb where a heaven-born exile lay immured in expiation\nof the guilt that had driven him from his former and well-nigh\nforgotten abode. Hence, after Seneca, we find the two schools pursuing\ndivergent directions, the naturalism of the one becoming more and more\ncontrasted with the spiritualism of the other. It has been mentioned\nhow emphatically Marcus Aurelius rejected the doctrine of a future\nlife, which, perhaps, had been brought under his notice as a tenet of\nthe Neo-Pythagoreans. The latter, on their side, abandoned the Stoic\ncosmology for the more congenial metaphysics of Plato, which they\nenriched with some elements from Aristotle\u2019s system, but without in\nthe least acknowledging their obligations to those two illustrious\nmasters. On the contrary, they professed to derive their hidden\nwisdom from certain alleged writings of Pythagoras and his earlier\ndisciples, which, with the disregard for veracity not uncommon among\nmystics, they did not scruple to forge wholesale. As a consequence\nof their unfortunate activity, literature was encumbered with a mass\nof worthless productions, of which many fragments still survive,\nmixed, perhaps, with some genuine relics of old Italiote speculation,\nthe extrication of which is, however, a task of almost insuperable\ndifficulty.\n\nIt is only as a religious philosophy that Neo-Pythagoreanism can\ninterest us here. Considered in this light, the principles of its\nadherents may be summed up under two heads. First, they taught the\nseparate existence of spirit as opposed to matter. Unlike the Stoics,\nthey distinguished between God and Nature, although they were not\nagreed as to whether their Supreme Being transcended the world or was\nimmanent in it. This, however, did not interfere with their fundamental\ncontention, for either alternative is consistent with his absolute\nimmateriality. In like manner, the human soul is absolutely independent\nof the body which it animates; it has existed and will continue to\nexist for ever. The whole object of ethics, or rather of religion,\nis to enforce and illustrate this independence, to prevent the soul\nfrom becoming attached to its prison-house by indulgence in sensual\npleasures, to guard its habitation against defiling contact with the\nmore offensive forms of material impurity. Hence their recommendation\nof abstinence from wine, from animal food, and from marriage, their\nprovisions for personal cleanliness, their use of linen instead of\nwoollen garments, under the idea that a vegetable is purer than an\nanimal tissue. The second article of the Pythagorean creed is that\nspirit, being superior to matter, has the power of interfering with\nand controlling its movements, that, being above space and time, it\ncan be made manifest without any regard to the conditions which they\nordinarily impose. To what an extent this belief was carried, is\nshown by the stories told of Pythagoras, the supposed founder of the\nschool, and Apollonius of Tyana, its still greater representative in\nthe first century of our era. Both were credited with an extraordinary\npower of working miracles and of predicting future events; but,\ncontrary to the usual custom of mythologers, a larger measure of this\npower was ascribed to the one who lived in a more advanced stage of\ncivilisation, and the composition of whose biography was separated by\na comparatively short interval from the events which it professes to\nrelate.[389]\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe most important result of the old Pythagorean teaching was, that\nit contributed a large element\u2014somewhat too large, indeed,\u2014to Plato\u2019s\nphilosophy. Neo-Pythagoreanism bears precisely the same relation to\nthat revived Platonism which was the last outcome of ancient thought.\nIt will be remembered that the great controversy between Stoicism\nand Scepticism, which for centuries divided the schools of Athens,\nand was passed on by them to Cicero and his contemporaries, seemed\ntending towards a reconciliation based on a return to the founder of\nthe Academy, when, from whatever cause, Greek speculation came to\na halt, which continued until the last third of the first century\nafter Christ. At that epoch, we find a great revival of philosophical\ninterest, and this revival seems to have been maintained for at least\na hundred years, that is to say, through the whole of what is called\nthe age of the Antonines. In the struggle for existence among the rival\nsects which ensued, Platonism started with all the advantages that a\ngreat inheritance and a great name could bestow. At the commencement\nof this period, we find the Academy once more professing to hold the\ndoctrines of its founder in their original purity and completeness.\nEvidently the sober common-sense view of Antiochus had been discarded,\nand Plato\u2019s own writings were taken as an authoritative standard of\ntruth. A series of industrious commentators undertook the task of\nelucidating their contents. Nor was it only in the schools that their\ninfluence was felt. The beauty of their style must have strongly\nrecommended the _Dialogues_ to the attention of literary men. Plutarch,\nthe most considerable Greek writer of his time, was a declared\nPlatonist. So also was the brilliant African novelist, Apuleius, who\nflourished under Marcus Aurelius. Celsus, the celebrated anti-Christian\ncontroversialist, and Maximus, the Tyrian rhetorician, professed the\nsame allegiance; and the illustrious physiologist Galen shows traces\nof Platonic influence. Platonism, as first constituted, had been\nan eminently religious philosophy, and its natural tendencies were\nstill further strengthened at the period of its revival by the great\nreligious reaction which we have been studying in the present chapter;\nwhile, conversely, in the struggle for supremacy among rival systems,\nits affinities with the spirit of the age gave it an immense advantage\nover the sceptical and materialistic philosophies, which brought it\ninto still closer sympathy with the currents of popular opinion. And\nits partisans were drawn even further in the same direction by the\ninfluence of Neo-Pythagoreanism, representing, as this did, one among\nthe three or four leading principles which Plato had attempted to\ncombine.\n\nThe chief theological doctrines held in common by the two schools, were\nthe immortality of the soul and the existence of daemons. These were\nsupposed to form a class of spiritual beings, intermediate between gods\nand men, and sharing to some extent in the nature of both. According to\nPlutarch, though very long-lived, they are not immortal; and he quotes\nthe famous story about the death of Pan in proof of his assertion;[390]\nbut, in this respect, his opinion is not shared by Maximus Tyrius[391],\nwho expressly declares them to be immortal; and, indeed, one hardly\nsees how the contrary could have been maintained consistently with\nPlatonic principles; for, if the human soul never dies, much less can\nspirits of a higher rank be doomed to extinction. As a class, the\ndaemons are morally imperfect beings, subject to human passions, and\ncapable of wrong-doing. Like men also, they are divided into good and\nbad. The former kind perform providential and retributive offices on\nbehalf of the higher gods, inspiring oracles, punishing crime, and\nsuccouring distress. Those who permit themselves to be influenced by\nimproper motives in the discharge of their appointed functions, are\ndegraded to the condition of human beings. The bad and morose sort are\npropitiated by a gloomy and self-tormenting worship.[392] By means of\nthe imperfect character thus ascribed to the daemons, a way was found\nfor reconciling the purified theology of Platonism with the old Greek\nreligion. To each of the higher deities there is attached, we are\ntold, a daemon who bears his name and is frequently confounded with\nhim. The immoral or unworthy actions narrated of the old gods were, in\nreality, the work of their inferior namesakes. This theory was adopted\nby the Fathers of the Church, with the difference, however, that\nthey altogether suppressed the higher class of Platonic powers, and\nidentified the daemons with the fallen angels of their own mythology.\nThis is the reason why a word which was not originally used in a bad\nsense has come to be synonymous with devil.\n\nIt was in perfect accordance with the spirit of Greek philosophy,\nand more particularly of Platonism, that a connecting link should\nbe interposed between earth and heaven, the human and the divine,\nespecially when, as at this time, the supreme creator had come to be\nisolated in solitary splendour from the rest of existence; but it would\nbe a mistake to suppose that the daemons were invented for the purpose\nto which they were applied. We find them mentioned by Hesiod;[393]\nand they probably represent an even older phase of religious thought\nthan the Olympian gods, being, in fact, a survival of that primitive\npsychism which peopled the whole universe with life and animation. This\nbecomes still clearer when we consider that they are described, both\nunder their earliest and their latest Greek form, as being, in part at\nleast, human souls raised after death to a higher sphere of activity.\nAmong these, Maximus Tyrius includes the demi-gods of mythology,\nsuch as Ascl\u00eapius and Heracles, who, as we have seen, were objects\nof particular veneration under the empire.[394] Thus daemon-worship\ncombined three different elements or aspects of the supernaturalist\nmovement:\u2014the free play given to popular imagination by the decay or\ndestruction of the aristocratic organisation of society and religion,\nthe increasing tendency to look for a perpetuation and elevation of\nhuman existence, and the convergence of philosophical speculation with\npopular faith.\n\nDaemonism, however, does not fill a very great place in the creed of\nPlutarch; and a comparison of him with his successors shows that the\nsaner traditions of Greek thought only gradually gave way to the rising\nflood of ignorance and unreason. It is true that, as a moralist, the\nphilosopher of Chaeronea considered religion of inestimable importance\nto human virtue and human happiness; while, as a historian, he accepted\nstories of supernatural occurrences with a credulity recalling that\nof Livy and falling little short of Dion Cassius. Nor did his own\nPlatonistic monotheism prevent him from extending a very generous\nintellectual toleration to the different forms of polytheism which he\nfound everywhere prevailing.[395] In this respect, he and probably\nall the philosophers of that and the succeeding age, the Epicureans,\nthe Sceptics, and some of the Cynics alone excepted, offer a striking\ncontradiction to one of Gibbon\u2019s most celebrated epigrams. To them the\npopular religions were not equally false but equally true, and, to a\ncertain extent, equally useful. Where Plutarch drew the line was at\nwhat he called Deisidaimonia, the frightful mental malady which, as\nalready mentioned, began to afflict Greece soon after the conquests\nof Alexander. It is generally translated superstition, but has a much\nnarrower meaning. It expresses the beliefs and feelings of one who\nlives in perpetual dread of provoking supernatural vengeance, not by\nwrongful behaviour towards his fellow-men, nor even by intentional\ndisrespect towards a higher power, but by the neglect of certain\nceremonial observances; and who is constantly on the look-out for\nheaven-sent prognostications of calamities, which, when they come,\nwill apparently be inflicted from sheer ill-will, Plutarch has devoted\none of his most famous essays to the castigation of this weakness. He\ndeliberately prefers atheism to it, showing by an elaborate comparison\nof instances that the former\u2014with which, however, he has no sympathy\nat all\u2014is much less injurious to human happiness, and involves much\nless real impiety, than such a constant attribution of meaningless\nmalice to the gods. One example of Deisidaimonia adduced by Plutarch is\nSabbatarianism, especially when carried, as it had recently been by the\nJews during the siege of Jerusalem, to the point of entirely suspending\nmilitary operations on the day of rest.[396] That the belief in\ndaemons, some of whom passed for being malevolent powers, might yield\na fruitful crop of new superstitions, does not seem to have occurred\nto Plutarch; still less that the doctrine of future torments of which,\nfollowing Plato\u2019s example, he was a firm upholder, might prove a terror\nto others besides offenders against the moral law,\u2014especially when\nmanipulated by a class whose interest it was to stimulate the feeling\nin question to the utmost possible intensity.\n\nWhen we pass from Plutarch to Maximus Tyrius and Apuleius, the darkness\ngrows perceptibly thicker, and is no longer broken by the _lucida tela\ndiei_ with which the Theban thinker had combated at least one class\nof mistaken beliefs. These writers are so occupied with developing\nthe positive aspects of supernaturalism\u2014daemonology, divination, and\nthaumaturgy\u2014that they can find no place for a protest against its\nextravagances and perversions; nor is their mysticism balanced by\nthose extensive applications of philosophy to real life, whether\nunder the form of biography or of discourses on practical morality,\nwhich enabled Plutarch\u2019s mind to preserve an attitude of comparative\nsobriety and calmness. Hence while Maximus is absolutely forgotten,\nand Apuleius remembered only as an amusing story-teller, Plutarch has\nbeen perhaps the most successful interpreter between Greek humanity\nand modern thought. His popularity is now rapidly declining, but the\ninfluence exercised by his writings on characters differing so much\nfrom one another and from his own as those of Montaigne, Rousseau, and\nWordsworth, suffices to prove, if any proof be needed, how deep and\nwide were the sympathies which they once evoked.\n\nWhat progress devotional feeling had made during the interval which\nseparated Apuleius from Plutarch and his school, may be illustrated by\na comparison of the terms which they respectively employ in reference\nto the Egyptian Isis. The author of the treatise on Isis and Osiris\nidentifies the goddess with the female or material, as distinguished\nfrom the formative principle in Nature; which, to say the least of\nit, is not giving her a very exalted rank in the scheme of creation.\nApuleius, on the other hand, addresses her, or makes his hero address\nher, in the following enthusiastic language:\u2014\n\n Holy everlasting Saviour of the human race! Bounteous nurse of\n mortals! Tender mother of the afflicted! Not for a day or night nor\n even for one little moment dost thou relax thy care for men, driving\n away the storms of life and stretching forth to them the right hand of\n deliverance, wherewith thou dost unravel even the tangled threads of\n fate, soothe the storms of fortune, and restrain the hurtful courses\n of the stars. The gods above adore thee, the gods below respect; thou\n dost cause the heavens to roll, the sun to shine; the world thou\n rulest, and treadest Tartarus under foot. To thee the stars reply,\n for thee the seasons come again; in thee the deities rejoice, and\n thee the elements obey. At thy nod the breezes blow, the clouds drop\n fatness, the seeds germinate and seedlings spring. But my wit is small\n to celebrate thy praises, my fortune poor to pay thee sacrifices, the\n abundance of my voice does not suffice to tell what I think of thy\n majesty, nor would a thousand tongues nor an unwearied and everlasting\n flow of speech. Therefore what alone religion joined to poverty can\n achieve, I will provide: an image of thy divine countenance and most\n holy godhead, guarded for perpetual contemplation within the recesses\n of my heart.[397]\n\nDoubtless the cool intellect of a Greek and the fervid temperament of\nan African would always have expressed themselves in widely different\naccents. What we have to note is that the one was now taking the place\nof the other because the atmosphere had been heated up to a point as\nfavourable to passion as it was fatal to thought.\n\nAfter Apuleius, Platonism, outside the lecture rooms of Athens, becomes\nidentified with Pythagoreanism, and both with dogmatic theology. In\nthis direction, philosophy was feeling its way towards a reconciliation\nwith two great Oriental religions, Hebrew monotheism and Medo-Persian\ndualism. The first advances had come from religion. Aristobulus, an\nAlexandrian Jew (B.C. 160), was apparently the first to detect an\nanalogy between the later speculations of Plato and his own hereditary\nfaith. Both taught that the world had been created by a single\nsupreme God. Both were penetrated with the purest ethical ideas. Both\nassociated sensuality and idolatry in the same vehement denunciations.\nThe conclusion was obvious. What had been supernaturally revealed to\nthe chosen people could not have been discovered elsewhere by a simple\nexercise of human reason. Plato must have borrowed his wisdom from\nMoses.[398] At a later period, the celebrated Philo, following up the\nclue thus furnished, proceeded to evolve the whole of Greek philosophy\nfrom the Pentateuch. An elaborate system of allegorical interpretation,\nborrowed from the Stoics, was the instrument with which he effected his\nenterprise. The result was what might have been foreseen\u2014a complete\nHellenisation of Hebrew religion. Circumscription, antithesis, and\nmediation were, as we know, the chief moments of Greek thought. Philo\nrearranged his monotheistic system according to the scheme which they\nsupplied. He first determined the divine unity with such logical\nprecision as to place God out of relation to the world. Then, in the\ntrue Greek spirit, he placed at the other end of his metaphysical scale\nmatter\u2014the shifting, formless, shadowy residuum left behind when every\nideal element has been thought away from the world. So conceived,\nmatter became, what it had been to Plato, the principle of all evil,\nand therefore something with which God could not possibly be brought\ninto contact. Accordingly, the process of creation is made intelligible\nby the interposition of a connecting link in the shape of certain\nhypostasised divine attributes or forces, represented as at the same\ntime belonging to and distinct from the divine personality. Of these\nthe most important are the goodness to which the world owes its origin,\nand the power by which it is governed. Both are united in the Logos or\nWord. This last idea\u2014which, by the way, was derived not from Plato but\nfrom the Stoics\u2014sums up in itself the totality of mediatorial functions\nby which God and the world are put into communication with one another.\nIn like manner, Plato had interposed a universal soul between his\nIdeas and the world of sensible appearances, and had pointed to an\narrangement of the Ideas themselves by which we could ascend in thought\nto a contemplation of the absolute good. There seems, however, to be\na difference between the original Hellenic conception and the same\nconception as adapted to Oriental ways of thinking. With Plato, as with\nevery other Greek philosopher, a mediator is introduced not for the\npurpose of representing the supreme ideal to us nor of transmitting our\naspirations to it, but of guiding and facilitating our approach to it,\nof helping us to a perfect apprehension and realisation of its meaning.\nWith Philo, on the contrary, the relation of the Logos to God is much\nthe same as that of a Grand Vizier to an Oriental Sultan. And, from\nthis point of view, it is very significant that he should compare it to\nthe high-priest who lays the prayers of the people before the eternal\nthrone, especially when we couple this with his declaration that the\nLogos is the God of us imperfect beings, the first God being reserved\nfor the contemplation of those who are wise and perfect.[399]\n\nSuch a system was likely to result, and before long actually did\nresult, in the realisation of the Logos on earth, in the creation of\nan inspired and infallible Church, mediating between God and man;\nwhile it gave increased authority and expansive power to another\nsuperstition which already existed in Philo\u2019s time, and of which his\nLogos doctrine was perhaps only the metaphysical sublimation,\u2014the\nsuperstition that the divine Word has been given to mankind under the\nform of an infallible book. From another point of view, we may discern\na certain connexion between the idea that God would be defiled by any\nimmediate contact with the material world, and the Sabbatarianism which\nwas so rife among Gentiles as well as among Jews at that period. For\nsuch a theory of the divine character readily associates itself with\nthe notion that holiness excludes not only material industry but any\ninterest the scope of which is limited to our present life.\n\nThat Philo\u2019s interpretation of Platonism ultimately reacted on Greek\nthought seems certain, but at what date his influence began to tell,\nand how far it reached, must remain undecided. Plutarch speaks of\nGod\u2019s purity and of his transcendent elevation above the universe\nin language closely resembling that of the Alexandrian Jew, with\nwhose opinions he may have been indirectly acquainted.[400] We have\nalready seen how the daemons were employed to fill up the interval\nthus created, and what serious concessions to popular superstition\nthe belief in their activity involved. Still Plutarch does not go so\nfar as to say that the world was not created by God. This step was\ntaken by Numenius, a philosopher who flourished about the middle of\nthe second century, and who represents the complete identification of\nPlatonism with Pythagoreanism, already mentioned as characteristic of\nthe period following that date. Numenius is acquainted with Philo\u2019s\nspeculations, and accepts his derivation of Platonism from the\nPentateuch. \u2018What,\u2019 he asks, \u2018is Plato but a Moses writing in the Attic\ndialect?\u2019[401] He also accepts the theory that the world was created\nby a single intermediate agent, whom, however, he credits with a much\nmore distinct and independent personality than Philo could see his\nway to admitting. And he regards the human soul as a fallen spirit\nwhose life on earth is the consequence of its own sinful desires. From\nsuch fancies there was but a single step to the more thorough-going\ndualism which looks on the material world as entirely evil, and as the\ncreation of a blind or malevolent power. This step had already been\ntaken by Gnosticism. The system so called summed up in itself, more\ncompletely, perhaps, than any other, all the convergent or conflicting\nideas of the age. Greek mythology and Greek philosophy, Zoroastrianism,\nJudaism, and Christianity each contributed an element to the fantastic\nand complicated scheme propounded by its last great representative,\nValentinus. This teacher pitches his conception of the supreme God\neven higher than Philo, and places him, like Plato\u2019s absolute Good,\noutside the sphere of being. From him\u2014or it\u2014as from a bottomless\ngulf proceed a vast series of emanations ending in the Demiurgus or\ncreator of the visible world, whose action is described, in language\nvividly recalling the speculations of certain modern metaphysicians,\nas an enormous blunder. For, according to Gnosticism, the world is not\nmerely infected with evil by participation in a material principle, it\nis evil altogether, and a special intervention of the higher powers\nis needed in order to undo the work of its delirious author.[402]\nHere we have a particular side of Plato\u2019s philosophy exaggerated and\ndistorted by contact with Zoroastrian dualism. In the _Statesman_ there\nis a mythical description of two alternate cycles, in one of which\nthe world is governed by a wise providence, while in the other things\nare abandoned to themselves, and move in a direction the reverse of\nthat originally imposed on them. It is in the latter cycle that Plato\nsupposes us to be moving at present.[403] Again, after having been long\ncontent to explain the origin of evil by the resistance of inert matter\nto the informing power of ideal goodness, Plato goes a step further\nin his latest work, the _Laws_, and hazards the hypothesis of an evil\nsoul actively counterworking the beneficent designs of God.[404] And\nwe find the same idea subsequently taken up by Plutarch, who sees in\nit the most efficient means for exonerating God from all share in the\nresponsibility for physical disorder and moral wrong.[405] But both\nmaster and disciple restricted the influence of their supposed evil\nsoul within very narrow limits, and they would have repudiated with\nhorror such a notion as that the whole visible world is a product of\nfolly or of sin.\n\nGnostic pessimism marks the extreme point of aberration to which Greek\nthought was drawn by the attraction of Oriental superstition. How it\nwas rescued from destruction by a new systematisation of its ancient\nmethods and results will be explained in another chapter.\n\n\nX.\n\nIn conclusion, a few words may profitably be devoted to the question\nwhether the rationalistic movement of our own age is likely to be\nfollowed by such another supernaturalist reaction as that which\nmade itself so powerfully felt during the first centuries of Roman\nimperialism. There is, no doubt, a certain superficial resemblance\nbetween the world of the Caesars and the world in which we live.\nEverywhere we see aristocracies giving way to more centralised and\nequitable forms of government, the authority of which is sometimes\nconcentrated in the hands of a single absolute ruler. Not only are the\ninterests and wishes of the poorer and less educated classes consulted\nwith increasing anxiety, but the welfare of women is engrossing the\nattention of modern legislators to an even greater extent than was\nthe case with the imperial jurists. Facilities for travelling, joined\nto the far-reaching combinations of modern statesmanship and modern\nstrategy, are every day bringing Europe into closer contact with the\nreligious life of Asia. The decay of traditional and organised theology\nis permitting certain forms of spontaneous and unorganised superstition\nto develope themselves once more, as witness the wide diffusion of\nspiritism, which is probably akin to the demonology and witchcraft\nof earlier ages, and would, no doubt, be similarly persecuted by the\npriests,\u2014who, as it is, attribute spiritualistic manifestations to\ndiabolical agency,\u2014had they sufficient power for the purpose. Lastly,\ncorresponding to the syncretism of the Roman empire, we may observe a\ncertain mixture and combination of religious principles, Catholic ideas\nbeing avowedly adopted by even the most latitudinarian Protestants,\nand Protestant influences entering into Catholicism, much more\nimperceptibly it is true, but probably to an equal extent.\n\nThe analogy between modern Europe and the Roman empire is, however,\nas we have already hinted, merely superficial. It has been shown in\nthe course of our analysis that to ensure the triumph of superstition\nin the old world something more was necessary than the destruction of\naristocratic government. Every feeling of liberty\u2014except the liberty\nto die\u2014and almost every feeling of self-respect had to be crushed out\nby the establishment of an authoritative hierarchy extending from the\nEmperor down to the meanest slaves, before the voice of Hellenic reason\ncould be hushed. But among ourselves it is rather of the opposite\nfault\u2014of too great independence and individualism\u2014that complaints\nare heard. If we occasionally see a hereditary monarch or a popular\nminister invested with despotic power, this phenomenon is probably due\nto the circumstances of a revolutionary period, and will in course\nof time become more and more exceptional. Flatterers, parasites, and\nwill-hunters are not an increasing but a diminishing class. Modern\nofficers, as a body, show none of that contempt for reasoning and\namenability to superstition which characterised the Roman centurions;\nin France, military men are even distinguished for their deadly hatred\nof priests. And, what is more important than any other element in our\ncomparison, the reserves which modern civilisation is bringing to the\nfront are of a widely different intellectual stature and equipment\nfrom their predecessors under Augustus and the Antonines. Since\nthe reorganisation of industry by science, millions of working-men\nhave received an education which prepares them to understand the\nuniversality of law much better than the literary education given\nto their social superiors, which, indeed, bears a remarkable\nresemblance to the rhetorical and sophistical training enjoyed by the\ncontemporaries of Maximus Tyrius and Apuleius. If as much cannot be\nsaid of the middle classes, they are at any rate far more enlightened\nthan Roman provincials, and are likely to improve still further with\nthe spread of education\u2014another peculiarly modern phenomenon. On this\npoint we have, indeed, something better to argue from than _\u00e0 priori_\nprobabilities. We see before our eyes the rationalistic movement\nadvancing _pari passu_ with the democratic movement, and, in some\ncountries, overtly aided by it. To say that this alliance has been\nprovoked by an accidental and temporary association of monarchy and\naristocracy with Church establishments, is a superficial explanation.\nThe paid advocates of delusion know well where their interest lies.\nThey have learned by experience that democracy means the education of\nthe people, and that the education of the people means the loss of\ntheir own prestige. And they know also that, in many cases, the people\nare already sufficiently educated to use political power, once they\nhave obtained it, for the summary destruction of organised and endowed\nsuperstition. What has been said of popular influence applies equally\nto the influence of women. When they were either not educated at all or\nonly received a literary education, every improvement in their position\nwas simply so much ground gained for superstition. The prospect is very\ndifferent now. Women are beginning to receive a training like that of\nmen, or rather a training superior to what all but a very few men have\nhitherto enjoyed. And the result is that, wherever this experiment has\nbeen tried, they have flung aside traditional beliefs once supposed to\nbe a necessity of their nature even more decisively and disdainfully\nthan have the professors by whom they are taught.\n\nOnce more, there was a cause of intellectual degeneration at work in\nthe ancient world, which for us has almost ceased to exist. This was\nthe flood of barbarism which enveloped and corrupted, long before it\noverwhelmed, the Hellenised civilisation of Rome. But if the danger\nof such an inundation is for ever removed, are we equally secure\nagainst the contagion of that intellectual miasma which broods over\nthe multitudinous barbarian populations among whom we in turn are\nsettling as conquerors and colonists? Anyone choosing to maintain the\nnegative might point to the example of a famous naturalist who, besides\ncontributing largely to the advancement of his own special science, is\nalso distinguished for high general culture, but whom long residence\nin the East Indies has fitted to be the dupe of impostures which it is\na disgrace even for men and women of fashion to accept. Experience,\nhowever, teaches us that, so far at least, there is little danger to\nbe dreaded from this quarter. Instead of being prone to superstition,\nAnglo-Indian society is described as prevailingly sceptical or even\nagnostic; and, in fact, the study of theology in its lowest forms is\napt to start a train of reflection not entirely conducive to veneration\nfor its more modern developments. For the rest, European enlightenment\nseems likely to spread faster and farther among the conquered, than\nOriental darkness among the conquering race.\n\nSo far, we have only considered belief in its relation to the\nre-distribution of political, social, and national forces. But\nbehind all such forces there is a deeper and more perennial cause of\nintellectual revolution at work. There is now in the world an organised\nand ever-growing mass of scientific truths, at least a thousand times\ngreater and a thousand times more diffused than the amount of positive\nknowledge possessed by mankind in the age of the Antonines. What those\ntruths can do in the future may be inferred from what they have already\ndone in the past. Even the elementary science of Alexandria, though\nit could not cope with the supernaturalist reaction of the empire,\nproved strong enough, some centuries later, to check the flood of\nMahometan fanaticism, and for a time to lead captivity captive in the\nvery strongholds of militant theological belief. When, long afterwards,\nJesuitism and Puritanism between them threatened to reconquer all that\nthe humanism of the Renaissance had won from superstition, when all\nEurope from end to end was red with the blood or blackened with the\ndeath-fires of heretics and witches, science, which had meanwhile been\nsilently laying the foundations of a new kingdom, had but to appear\nbefore the eyes of men, and they left the powers of darkness to follow\nwhere she led. When the follies and excesses of the Revolution provoked\nanother intellectual reaction, her authority reduced it to a mere\nmimicry and shadow of the terrible revenges by which analogous epochs\nin the past history of opinion had been signalised. And this was at a\ntime when the materials of reaction existed in abundance, because the\nrationalistic movement of the eighteenth century had left the middle\nand lower classes untouched. At the present moment, Catholicism has no\nallies but a dispirited, half-sceptical aristocracy; and any appeal to\nother quarters would show that her former reserves have irrevocably\npassed over to the foe. What is more, she has unconsciously been\nplaying the game of rationalism for fifteen centuries. By waging a\nmerciless warfare on every other form of superstition, she has done her\nbest to dry up the sources of religious belief. Those whom she calls\nheathens and pagans lived in an atmosphere of supernaturalism which\nrendered them far less apt pupils of philosophy than her own children\nare to-day. It was harder to renounce what she took away than it will\nbe to renounce what she has left, when the truths of science are seen\nby all, as they are now seen by a few, to involve the admission that\nthere is no object for our devotion but the welfare of sentient beings\nlike ourselves; that there are no changes in Nature for which natural\nforces will not account; and that the unity of all existence has, for\nus, no individualisation beyond the finite and perishable consciousness\nof man.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE SPIRITUALISM OF PLOTINUS.\n\n\nI.\n\nAmong the most interesting of Plutarch\u2019s religious writings is one\nentitled _On the Delays in the Divine Vengeance_. As might be expected\nfrom the name, it deals with a problem closely akin to that which\nages before had been made the subject of such sublime imagery and\nsuch inconclusive reasoning by the author of the Book of Job. What\ntroubled the Hebrew poet was the apparently undeserved suffering of\nthe just. What the Greek moralist feels himself called on to explain\nis the apparent prosperity and impunity of the wicked. He will not for\na moment admit that crime remains unavengeful; his object is to show\nwhy the retribution does not follow directly on the deed. And, in order\nto account for this, he adduces a number of very ingenious reasons. By\nacting deliberately rather than in blind anger, the gods wish to read\nus a useful lesson in patience and forbearance. Sometimes their object\nis to give the sinner an opportunity for repentance and amendment; or\nelse they may be holding him in reserve for the performance of some\nbeneficial work. At other times, their justice is delayed only that it\nmay be manifested by some signal and striking form of retribution. In\nmany cases, the final stroke has been preceded by long years of secret\ntorment; and even where no suffering seems to be inflicted, the pangs\nof remorse may furnish a sufficient expiation. Or again, vengeance may\nbe reserved for a future generation. Some persons hold that to visit\nthe sins of the fathers on the children is unjust, but in this they\nare profoundly mistaken. Members of the same family and citizens of\nthe same state are connected as parts of one organic whole; sharing in\nthe benefits which accrue from the good deeds of their predecessors,\nit is right that they should also share in the responsibility for\ntheir crimes. Moreover, the posterity of the wicked inherit a sinful\ndisposition which, as the gods can clearly foresee, would betray itself\nin overt acts were they not cut off in their youth. And it is equally\nan error to suppose that the original wrongdoers remain unaffected\nby the retribution which befalls their descendants. On the contrary,\nthey witness it from the next world, where it adds poignancy to their\nremorse, and entails on them fresh penalties over and above those which\nthey have already been doomed to suffer.\n\nThus with Plutarch, as with his master Plato, a future world is the\ngrand court of appeal from the anomalies and inequalities of this\nworld; and, following the example of the _Gorgias_ and the _Republic_,\nhe reserves to the last a terrible picture of the torments held in\nstore for those who have not expiated their transgressions on earth,\ndescribing them as they are supposed to have been witnessed by a\nhuman soul temporarily separated from the body for the purpose of\nviewing and reporting on this final manifestation of divine justice.\nIt would appear, however, from the narrative in question that future\npunishments are not eternal. After a more or less protracted period\nof expiation, the immortal soul is restored to the upper world, under\nwhatever embodiment seems most appropriate to its former career. Among\nthose whose turn has arrived for entering on a new existence at the\nmoment when Plutarch\u2019s visitor makes his descent to hell, is the soul\nof Nero. The wicked Emperor has just been condemned to assume the form\nof a viper, when a great light shines forth, and from the midst of the\nlight a voice is heard crying: \u2018Let him reappear under the guise of\na song-bird haunting the neighbourhood of marshes and meres; for he\nhas already paid the penalty of his guilt, and the gods owe him some\nkindness for having liberated Greece, the best and most beloved by them\nof all the nations that he ruled.\u2019\n\nIt would seem from this singular and touching expression of gratitude\nthat the deathless idealism of Hellas found in Nero\u2019s gift of a nominal\nliberty ample compensation for the very real and precious works of art\nof which she was despoiled on the occasion of his visit to her shores.\nAt first sight, that visit looks like nothing better than a display\nof triumphant buffoonery on the one side and of servile adulation on\nthe other. But, in reality, it was a turning-point in the history of\ncivilisation, the awakening to new glories of a race in whom life had\nbecome, to all outward appearance, extinct. For more than a whole\ncentury the seat of intellectual supremacy had been established in\nRome; and during the same period Rome herself had turned to the West\nrather than to the East for renovation and support. Caesar\u2019s conquests\nwere like the revelation of a new world; and three times over, when the\ntwo halves of the divided empire came into collision, the champion who\ncommanded the resources of that world had won. Henceforth it was to her\nwestern provinces and to her western frontiers that Rome looked for\ndanger, for aggrandisement, or for renown. In Horace\u2019s time, men asked\neach other what the warlike Cantabrians were planning; and the personal\npresence of Augustus himself was needed before those unruly Iberians\ncould be subdued. His adopted sons earned their first laurels at the\nexpense of Alpine mountaineers. His later years are filled with German\ncampaigns; and the great disaster of Varus must have riveted attention\nmore closely than any victory to what was passing between the Rhine and\nthe Elbe. Under Claudius, the conquest of Britain opened a new source\nof interest in the West, and, like Germany before, supplied a new title\nof triumph to the imperial family. Half the literary talent in Rome,\nthe two Senecas, Lucan, and at a later period Martial and Quintilian,\ncame from Spain, as also did Trajan, whose youth fall in this period.\n\nWith Nero\u2019s visit to Greece in 66 the reaction begins. When, a few\nyears later, the empire was disputed between a general from Gaul and\na general from Syria, it was the candidate of the Eastern legions who\nprevailed; the revolt of Judaea drew attention to Eastern affairs; and\nthe great campaigns of Trajan must have definitely turned the tide of\npublic interest in that direction, notwithstanding the far-sighted\nprotest of Tacitus. On more peaceful ground, Hadrian\u2019s Asiatic tours\nand his protracted residence in Athens completed the work inaugurated\nby Nero. In his reign, the intellectual centre of gravity is definitely\ntransferred to Greece; and Roman literature, after its last blaze of\nsplendour under Trajan, becomes extinct, or survives only in forms\nborrowed from the sophistical rhetoric of the East.\n\nPlutarch, who was twenty-one when Nero declared his country free, was\nthe first leader in the great Hellenist revival, without, at the same\ntime, entirely belonging to it. He cared more for the matter than for\nthe form of antiquity, for the great deeds and greater thoughts of\nthe past than for the words in which they were related and explained.\nHence, by the awkwardness and heaviness of his style, he is more\nakin to the writers of the Alexandrian period than to his immediate\nsuccessors. On the one side, he opens the era of classical idealism;\non the other, he closes that of encyclopaedic erudition. The next\ngeneration bore much the same relation to Plutarch that the first\nSophists bore to Hecataeus and Herodotus. Addressing themselves to\npopular audiences, they were obliged to study perspicuity and elegance\nof expression, at the risk, it is true, of verbosity and platitude.\nSuch men were Dion Chrysostom, Her\u00f4des Atticus, Maximus Tyrius, and\nAristeides. But the old models were imitated with more success by\nwriters who lived more entirely in the past. Arrian reproduced the\ngraceful simplicity of Xenophon in his narrative of the campaigns of\nAlexander and his reports of the lectures of Epict\u00eatus. Lucian composed\ndialogues ranking with the greatest masterpieces of lighter Attic\nliterature. The felicity of his style and his complete emancipation\nfrom superstition may probably be traced to the same source\u2014a diligent\nstudy of the ancient classics. It is certain that neither as a writer\nnor as a critic does he represent the average educated taste of his own\ntimes. So far from giving polytheism its deathblow, as he was formerly\nimagined to have done, he only protested unavailingly against its\nrestoration.\n\nNot only oratory and literature, but philosophy and science were\ncultivated with renewed vigour. The line between philosophy and\nsophisticism was not, indeed, very distinctly drawn. Epict\u00eatus severely\ncensures the moral teachers of his time for ornamenting their lectures\nwith claptrap rhetoric about the battle of Thermopylae or flowery\ndescriptions of Pan and the Nymphs.[406] And the professed declaimers\nsimilarly drew on a store of philosophical commonplaces. This sort of\npopular treatment led to the cultivation of ethics and theology in\npreference to logic and metaphysics, and to an eclectic blending of the\nchief systems with one another. A severer method was inculcated in the\nschools of Athens, especially after the endowment of their professors\nby Marcus Aurelius; but, in practice, this came to mean what it means\nin modern universities, the substitution of philology for independent\nenquiry. The question was not so much what is true as what did Plato\nor Aristotle really think. Alexandrian science showed something of the\nsame learned and traditional character in the works of Ptolemy; but the\ngreat name of Galen marks a real progress in physiology, as well as a\nreturn to the principles of Hippocrates.\n\nThus, so far as was possible in such altered circumstances, did\nthe Renaissance of the second century reproduce the intellectual\nenvironment from which Plato\u2019s philosophy had sprung. In literature,\nthere was the same attention to words rather than to things; sometimes\ntaking the form of exact scholarship, after the manner of Prodicus;\nsometimes of loose and superficial declamation, after the manner of\nGorgias. There was the naturalism of Hippias, elaborated into a system\nby the Stoics, and practised as a life by the new Cynics. There was\nthe hedonism of Aristippus, inculcated under a diluted form by the\nEpicureans. There was the old Ionian materialism, professed by Stoics\nand Epicureans alike. There was the scepticism of Protagoras, revived\nby Aenesid\u00eamus and his followers. There was the mathematical mysticism\nof the Pythagoreans, flourishing in Egypt instead of in southern Italy.\nThere was the purer geometry of the Alexandrian Museum, corresponding\nto the school of Cyr\u00ean\u00ea. On all sides, there was a mass of vague moral\npreaching, without any attempt to exhibit the moral truths which we\nempirically know as part of a comprehensive metaphysical philosophy.\nAnd, lastly, there was an immense undefined religious movement, ranging\nfrom theologies which taught the spirituality of God and of the human\nsoul, down to the most irrational and abject superstition. We saw\nin the last chapter how, corresponding to this environment, there\nwas a revived Platonism, that Platonism was in fact the fashionable\nphilosophy of that age, just as it afterwards became the fashionable\nphilosophy of another Renaissance thirteen centuries later. But it\nwas a Platonism with the backbone of the system taken out. Plato\u2019s\nthoughts all centred in a carefully considered scheme for the moral and\npolitical regeneration of society. Now, with the destruction of Greek\nindependence, and the absorption everywhere of free city-states into\na vast military empire, it might seem as if the realisation of such a\nscheme had become altogether impracticable. The Republic was, indeed,\nat that moment realising itself under a form adapted to the altered\nexigencies of the time; but no Platonist could as yet recognise in\nthe Christian Church even an approximate fulfilment of his master\u2019s\ndream. Failing any practical issue, there remained the speculative side\nof Plato\u2019s teaching. His writings did not embody a complete system,\nbut they offered the materials whence a system could be framed. Here\nthe choice lay between two possible lines of construction; and each\nhad, in fact, been already attempted by his own immediate disciples.\nOne was the Pythagorean method of the Old Academy, what Aristotle\ncontemptuously called the conversion of philosophy into mathematics.\nWe saw in the last chapter how the revived Platonism of the first and\nsecond centuries entered once more on the same perilous path, a path\nwhich led farther and farther away from the true principles of Greek\nthought, and of Plato himself when his intellect stood at its highest\npoint of splendour. Neo-Pythagorean mysticism meant an unreconciled\ndualism of spirit and matter; and as the ultimate consequence of\nthat dualism, it meant the substitution of magical incantations and\nceremonial observances for the study of reason and virtue. Moreover, it\nreadily allied itself with Oriental beliefs, which meant a negation of\nnatural law that the Greeks could hardly tolerate, and, under the form\nof Gnostic pessimism, a belief in the inherent depravity of Nature that\nthey could not tolerate at all.\n\nThe other alternative was to combine the dialectical idealism of\nPlato with the cosmology of early Greek thought, interpreting the\ntwo worlds of spirit and Nature as gradations of a single series and\nmanifestations of a single principle. This was what Aristotle had\nattempted to do, but had not done so thoroughly as to satisfy the\nmoral wants of his own age, or the religious wants of the age when a\nrevived Platonism was seeking to organise itself into a system which\nshould be the reconciliation of reason and faith. Yet the better sort\nof Platonists felt that this work could not be accomplished without\nthe assistance of Aristotle, whose essential agreement with their\nmaster, as against Stoicism, they fully recognised. Their mistake\nwas to assume that this agreement extended to every point of his\nteaching. Taken in this sense, their attempted harmonies were speedily\ndemolished by scholars whose professional familiarity with the original\nsources showed them how strongly Aristotle himself had insisted on the\ndifferences which separated him from the Academy and its founder.[407]\nTo identify the two great spiritualist philosophers being impossible,\nit remained to show how they could be combined. The solution of such\na problem demanded more genius than was likely to be developed in\nthe schools of Athens. An intenser intellectual life prevailed in\nAlexandria, where the materials of erudition were more abundantly\nsupplied, and where contact with the Oriental religions gave Hellenism\na fuller consciousness of its distinction from and superiority to\nevery other form of speculative activity. And here, accordingly, the\nfundamental idea of Neo-Platonism was conceived.\n\n\nII.\n\nPlotinus is not only the greatest and most celebrated of the\nNeo-Platonists, he is also the first respecting whose opinions we have\nany authentic information, and therefore the one who for all practical\npurposes must be regarded as the founder of the school. What we know\nabout his life is derived from a biography written by his disciple\nPorphyry. This is a rather foolish performance; but it possesses\nconsiderable interest, both on account of the information which it was\nintended to supply, and also as affording indirect evidence of the\nheight to which superstition had risen during the third century of our\nera. Plotinus gave his friends to understand that he was born in Egypt\nabout 205 A.D.; but so reluctant was he to mention any circumstance\nconnected with his physical existence, that his race and parentage\nalways remained a mystery. He showed somewhat more communicativeness\nin speaking of his mental history, and used to relate in after-life\nthat at the age of twenty-eight he had felt strongly attracted to the\nstudy of philosophy, but remained utterly dissatisfied with what the\nmost famous teachers of Alexandria had to tell him on the subject. At\nlast he found in Ammonius Saccas the ideal sage for whom he had been\nseeking, and continued to attend his lectures for eleven years. At the\nend of that period, he joined an eastern expedition under the Emperor\nGordian, for the purpose of making himself acquainted with the wisdom\nof the Persians and Indians, concerning which his curiosity seems to\nhave been excited by Ammonius. But his hopes of further enlightenment\nin that quarter were not fulfilled. The campaign terminated\ndisastrously; the emperor himself fell at the head of his troops in\nMesopotamia, and Plotinus had great difficulty in escaping with his\nlife to Antioch. Soon afterwards he settled in Rome, and remained there\nuntil near the end of his life, when ill-health obliged him to retire\nto a country seat in Campania, the property of a deceased friend,\nZ\u00eathus. Here the philosopher died, in the sixty-sixth year of his age.\n\nPlotinus seems to have begun his career as a public teacher soon after\ntaking up his residence in Rome. His lectures at first assumed the\nform of conversations with his private friends. Apparently by way of\nreviving the traditions of Socrates and Plato, he encouraged them to\ntake an active part in the discussion: but either he did not possess\nthe authority of his great exemplars, or the rules of Greek dialogue\nwere not very strictly observed in Rome; for we learn from the report\nof an eye-witness that interruptions were far too frequent, and that\na vast amount of nonsense was talked.[408] Afterwards a more regular\nsystem of lecturing was established, and papers were read aloud by\nthose who had any observations to offer, as in our own philosophical\nsocieties.\n\nThe new teacher gathered round him a distinguished society, comprising\nnot only professional philosophers, but also physicians, rhetors,\nsenators, and statesmen. Among the last-mentioned class, Rogatianus,\nwho filled the office of praetor, showed the sincerity of his\nconversion by renouncing the dignities of his position, surrendering\nhis worldly possessions, limiting himself to the barest necessaries\nof life, and allowing himself to be dependent even for these on the\nhospitality of his friends. Thanks to this asceticism, he recovered the\nuse of his hands and feet, which had before been completely crippled\nwith gout.[409]\n\nThe fascination exercised by Plotinus was not only intellectual, but\npersonal. Singularly affable, obliging, and patient, he was always\nready to answer the questions of his friends, even laying aside his\nwork in order to discuss the difficulties which they brought to him for\nsolution. His lectures were given in Greek; and although this always\nremained to him a foreign language, the pronunciation and grammar of\nwhich he never completely mastered, his expressions frequently won\nadmiration by their felicity and force; and the effect of his eloquence\nwas still further heightened by the glowing enthusiasm which irradiated\nhis whole countenance, naturally a very pleasing one, during the\ndelivery of the more impressive passages.[410]\n\nAs might be expected, the circle of admirers which surrounded Plotinus\nincluded several women, beginning with his hostess Gemina and her\ndaughter. He also stood high in the favour of the Emperor Galienus\nand his consort Salonina; so much so, indeed, that they were nearly\npersuaded to let him try the experiment of restoring a ruined city in\nCampania, and governing it according to Plato\u2019s laws.[411] Porphyry\nattributes the failure of this project to the envy of the courtiers;\nHegel, with probably quite as much reason, to the sound judgment of the\nimperial ministers.[412]\n\nOur philosopher had, however, abundant opportunity for showing on a\nmore modest scale that he was not destitute of practical ability. So\nhigh did his character stand, that many persons of distinction, when\nthey felt their end approaching, brought their children to him to be\ntaken care of, and entrusted their property to his keeping. As a result\nof the confidence thus reposed in him, his house was always filled with\nyoung people of both sexes, to whose education and material interests\nhe paid the most scrupulous attention, observing that as long as his\nwards did not make a profession of philosophy, their estates and\nincomes ought to be preserved unimpaired. It is also mentioned that,\nalthough frequently chosen to arbitrate in disputes, he never made a\nsingle enemy among the Roman citizens\u2014a piece of good fortune which is\nmore than one could safely promise to anyone similarly circumstanced in\nan Italian city at the present day.[413]\n\nPlotinus possessed a remarkable power of reading the characters and\neven the thoughts of those about him. It is said, probably with some\nexaggeration, that he predicted the future fate of all the boys placed\nunder his care. Thus he foretold that a certain Polemo, in whom he\ntook particular interest, would devote himself to love and die young;\nwhich proved only too true, and may well have been anticipated by a\ngood observer without the exercise of any supernatural prescience.\nAs another instance of his penetration, we are told that a valuable\nnecklace having been stolen from a widow named Chione, who lived in\nhis house with her family, the slaves were all led into the presence\nof Plotinus that he might single out the thief. After a careful\nscrutiny, the philosopher put his finger on the guilty individual.\nThe man at first protested his innocence, but was soon induced by an\napplication of the whip to confess, and, what was a much more valuable\nverification of his accuser\u2019s insight, to restore the missing article.\nPorphyry himself could testify from personal experience to his friend\u2019s\nremarkable power of penetration. Being once about to commit suicide,\nPlotinus divined his intention, and told him that it proceeded, not\nfrom a rational resolution, but from a fit of the blues, as a remedy\nfor which he prescribed change of scene, and this did in fact have the\ndesired effect.[414]\n\nPrevious to his forty-ninth year, Plotinus wrote nothing. At that age\nhe began to compose short essays on subjects which suggested themselves\nin the course of his oral teaching. During the next ten years, he\nproduced twenty-one such papers, some of them only a page or two in\nlength. At the end of that period, he made the acquaintance of his\nfuture editor and biographer, Porphyry, a young student of Semitic\nextraction, whose original name was Malchus. The two soon became fast\nfriends; and whatever speculative differences at first divided them\nwere quickly removed by an amicable controversy between Porphyry and\nanother disciple named Amelius, which resulted in the unreserved\nadhesion of the former to the doctrine of their common master.[415] The\nliterary activity of Plotinus seems to have been powerfully stimulated\nby association with the more methodical mind of Porphyry. During the\nfive years[416] of their personal intercourse he produced nineteen\nessays, amounting altogether to three times the bulk of the former\nseries. Eight shorter pieces followed during the period of failing\nhealth which preceded his death, Porphyry being at that time absent\nin Sicily, whither he had retired when suffering from the fit of\ndepression already mentioned.\n\nPorphyry observes that the first series of essays show the immaturity\nof youth\u2014a period which he extends to what is generally considered the\nsufficiently ripe age of fifty-nine;\u2014the second series the full-grown\npower of manhood; and the last the weakness of declining years. The\ntruth is that his method of criticism, at least in this instance, was\nto judge of compositions as if their merit depended on their length,\nand perhaps also with reference to the circumstance whether their\nsubject had or had not been previously talked over with himself.\nIn point of fact, the earlier pieces include some of the very best\nthings that Plotinus ever wrote; and, taking them in the order of\ntheir composition, they form a connected exposition of Neo-Platonic\nprinciples, to which nothing of importance was ever added. This we\nshall attempt to show in the most effectual manner possible by basing\nour own account of Neo-Platonism on an analysis of their contents; and\nwe strongly recommend them to the attention of all Greek scholars who\nwish to make themselves acquainted with Plotinus at first hand, but\nhave not leisure to wade through the whole of his works. It may also\nbe mentioned that the last series of essays are distinguished by the\npopular character of their subjects rather than by any evidence of\nfailing powers, one of them, that on Providence,[417] being remarkable\nfor the vigour and eloquence of its style.\n\nBy cutting up some of the longer essays into parts, Porphyry succeeded,\nmuch to his delight, in bringing the whole number up to fifty-four,\nwhich is a product of the two perfect numbers six and nine. He then\ndivided them into six volumes, each containing nine books\u2014the famous\n_Enneads_ of Plotinus. His principle of arrangement was to bring\ntogether the books in which similar subjects were discussed, placing\nthe easier disquisitions first. This disposition has been adhered to\nby subsequent editors, with the single exception of Kirchhoff, who has\nprinted the works of Plotinus according to the order in which they\nwere written.[418] Porphyry\u2019s scrupulous information has saved modern\nscholars an incalculable amount of trouble, but has not, apparently,\nearned all the gratitude it deserved, to judge by Zeller\u2019s intimation\nthat the chronological order of the separate pieces cannot even now\nbe precisely determined.[419] Unfortunately, what could have been of\npriceless value in the case of Plato and Aristotle, is of comparatively\nsmall value in the case of Plotinus. His system must have been fully\nformed when he began to write, and the dates in our possession give no\nclue to the manner in which its leading principles were evolved.[420]\n\nSuch, so far as they can be ascertained, are the most important facts\nin the life of Plotinus. Interwoven with these, we find some legendary\ndetails which vividly illustrate the superstition and credulity of the\nage. It is evident from his childish talk about the numbers six and\nnine that Porphyry was imbued with Pythagorean ideas. Accordingly,\nhis whole account of Plotinus is dominated by the wish to represent\nthat philosopher under the guise of a Pythagorean saint. We have\nalready alluded to the manner in which he exalts his hero\u2019s remarkable\nsagacity into a power of supernatural prescience and divination. He\nalso tells us, with the most unsuspecting good faith, how a certain\nAlexandrian philosopher whose jealousy had been excited by the\nsuccess of his illustrious countryman, endeavoured to draw down the\nmalignant influences of the stars on the head of Plotinus, but was\nobliged to desist on finding that the attack recoiled on himself.[421]\nOn another occasion, an Egyptian priest, by way of exhibiting his\nskill in magic, offered to conjure up the daemon or guardian spirit\nof Plotinus. The latter readily consented, and the Temple of Isis\nwas chosen for the scene of the operations, as, according to the\nEgyptian, no other spot sufficiently pure for the purpose could be\nfound in Rome. The incantations were duly pronounced, when, much to\nthe admiration of those present, a god made his appearance instead\nof the expected daemon. By what particular marks the divinity of the\napparition was determined, Porphyry omits to mention. The philosopher\nwas congratulated by his countryman on the possession of such a\ndistinguished patron, but the celestial visitor vanished before any\nquestions could be put to him. This mishap was attributed to a friend\n\u2018who, either from envy or fear, choked the birds which had been given\nhim to hold,\u2019 and which seem to have played a very important part in\nthe incantation, though what it was, we do not find more particularly\nspecified.[422]\n\nAnother distinguished compliment was paid to Plotinus after his death\nby no less an authority than the Pythian Apollo, who at this period had\nfully recovered the use of his voice. On being consulted respecting the\nfate of the philosopher\u2019s soul, the god replied by a flood of bombastic\ntwaddle, in which the glorified spirit of Plotinus is described as\nreleased from the chain of human necessity and the surging uproar of\nthe body, swimming stoutly to the storm-beaten shore, and mounting the\nheaven-illumined path, not unknown to him even in life, that leads to\nthe blissful abodes of the immortals.[423]\n\nIn view of such tendencies, one hardly knows how much confidence is\nto be placed in Porphyry\u2019s well-known picture of his master as one\nwho lived so entirely for spiritual interests that he seemed ashamed\nof having a body at all. We are told that, as a consequence of this\nfeeling, he avoided the subject of his past life, refused to let his\nportrait be painted, neglected the care of his health, and rigorously\nabstained from animal food, even when it was prescribed for him under\nthe form of medicine.[424] All this may be true, but it is not very\nconsistent with the special doctrines of Plotinus as recorded in his\nwritings, nor should it be allowed to influence our interpretation of\nthem. In his personal character and conduct he may have allowed himself\nto be carried away by the prevalent asceticism and superstition of the\nage; in his philosophy he is guided by the healthier traditions of\nPlato and Aristotle, and stands in declared opposition to the mysticism\nwhich was a negation of Nature and of life.\n\nHow far Plotinus was indebted to Ammonius Saccas for his speculative\nideas is another question with respect to which the Pythagoreanising\ntendencies of his biographer may possibly have contributed to the\ndiffusion of a serious misconception. What Porphyry tells us is this.\nBefore leaving Alexandria, Plotinus had bound himself by a mutual\nagreement with two of his fellow-pupils, Herennius and Origines\n(not the Christian Father, but a pagan philosopher of the same age\nand name), to keep secret what they had learned by listening to the\nlectures of Ammonius. Herennius, however, soon broke the compact,\nand Origines followed his example. Plotinus then considered that the\nengagement was at an end, and used the results of his studies under\nAmmonius as the basis of his conversational lectures in Rome, the\nsubstance of which, we are left to suppose, was subsequently embodied\nin his published writings. But, as Zeller has pointed out, this whole\nstory bears a suspicious resemblance to what is related of the early\nPythagorean school. There also the doctrines of the master were\nregarded by his disciples as a mystery which they pledged themselves\nto keep secret, and were only divulged through the infidelity of one\namong their number, Philolaus. And the same critic proves by a careful\nexamination of what are known to have been the opinions of Origines\nand Longinus, both fellow-pupils of Plotinus, that they differed from\nhim on some points of essential importance to his system. We cannot,\ntherefore, suppose that these points were included in the teaching of\ntheir common master, Ammonius.[425] But if this be so, it follows that\nPlotinus was the real founder of the Neo-Platonic school; and, in all\ncases, his writings remain the great source whence our knowledge of its\nfirst principles is derived.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn point of style, Plotinus is much the most difficult of the ancient\nphilosophers, and, in this respect, is only surpassed by a very few\nof the moderns. Even Longinus, who was one of the most intelligent\ncritics then living, and who, besides, had been educated in the\nsame school with our philosopher, could not make head or tail of his\nbooks when copies of them were sent to him by Porphyry, and supposed,\nafter the manner of philologists, that the text must be corrupt, much\nto the disgust of Porphyry, who assures us that its accuracy was\nunimpeachable.[426] Probably politeness prevented Longinus from saying,\nwhat he must have seen at a glance, that Plotinus was a total stranger\nto the art of literary composition. We are told that he wrote as fast\nas if he were copying from a book; but he had never mastered even\nthe elements of the Greek language; and the weakness of his eyesight\nprevented him from reading over what he had written. The mistakes in\nspelling and grammar Porphyry corrected, but it is evident that he\nhas made no alterations in the general style of the _Enneads_; and\nthis is nearly as bad as bad can be\u2014disjointed, elliptical, redundant,\nand awkward. Chapter follows chapter and paragraph succeeds to\nparagraph without any fixed principle of arrangement; the connexion\nof the sentences is by no means clear; some sentences are almost\nunintelligible from their extreme brevity, others from their inordinate\nlength and complexity. The unpractised hand of a foreigner constantly\nreveals itself in the choice and collocation of words and grammatical\ninflections. Predicates and subjects are huddled together without any\nregard to the harmonies of number and gender, so that even if false\nconcords do not occur, we are continually annoyed by the suggestion of\ntheir presence.[427]\n\nBut even the most perfect mastery of Greek would not have made\nPlotinus a successful writer. We are told that before taking up the pen\nhe had thoroughly thought out his whole subject; but this is not the\nimpression produced by a perusal of the _Enneads_. On the contrary, he\nseems to be thinking as he goes along, and to be continually beset by\ndifficulties which he has not foreseen. The frequent and disorderly\ninterruptions by which his lectures were at one time disturbed seem\nto have made their way into his solitary meditations, breaking or\ntangling the thread of systematic exposition at every turn. Irrelevant\nquestions are constantly intruding themselves, to be met by equally\nirrelevant answers. The first mode of expressing an idea is frequently\nwithdrawn, and another put in its place, which is, in most cases, the\nless intelligible of the two; while, as a general rule, when we want to\nknow what a thing is, Plotinus informs us with indefatigable prolixity\nwhat it is not.\n\nNevertheless, by dint of pertinacious repetition, the founder of\nNeo-Platonism has succeeded in making the main outlines, and to a great\nextent the details, of his system so perfectly clear that probably no\nphilosophy is now better understood than his. In this respect, Plotinus\noffers a remarkable contrast to the two great thinkers from whom his\nideas are principally derived. While Plato and Aristotle construct each\nparticular sentence with masterly clearness, the general drift of their\nspeculations is by no means easy to ascertain; and, even now, critics\ntake diametrically opposite views of the interpretation which is to be\nput on their teaching with regard to several most important points. The\nexpositors of Neo-Platonism, on the contrary, show a rare unanimity in\ntheir accounts of its constitutive principles. What they differ about\nis its origin and its historical significance. And these are points on\nwhich we too shall have to enter, since all the ancient systems are\ninteresting to us chiefly as historical phenomena, and Neo-Platonism\nmore so than any other. Plotinus effected a vast revolution in\nspeculative opinion, but he effected it by seizing on the thoughts of\nothers rather than by any new thoughts or even new developments or\napplications of his own.\n\nWhether Plotinus was or was not the disciple of Ammonius, it is beyond\nall doubt that he considered himself the disciple of Plato. There are\nmore than a hundred references to that philosopher in the _Enneads_,\nagainst less than thirty references to all the other ancient thinkers\nput together;[428] and, what is more remarkable, in only about half\nof them is he mentioned by name. The reader is expected to know that\n\u2018he\u2019 always means Plato. And it is an article of faith with Plotinus\nthat his master cannot be mistaken; when the words of oracular wisdom\nseem to contradict one another, there must be some way of harmonising\nthem. When they contradict what he teaches himself, the difficulty\nmust be removed by skilful interpretation; or, better still, it must\nbe discreetly ignored.[429] On the other hand, when a principle\nis palpably borrowed from Aristotle, not only is its derivation\nunacknowledged, but we are given to understand by implication that\nit belongs to the system which Aristotle was at most pains to\ncontrovert.[430]\n\nBut numerous as are the obligations, whether real or imaginary, of the\nAlexandrian to the Athenian teacher, they range over a comparatively\nlimited field. What most interests a modern student in Platonism\u2014its\ncritical preparation, its conversational dialectic, its personal\nepisodes, its moral enthusiasm, its political superstructure\u2014had\napparently no interest for Plotinus as a writer. He goes straight\nto the metaphysical core of the system, and occupies himself with\nre-thinking it in its minutest details. Now this was just the part\nwhich had either not been discussed at all, or had been very\ninsufficiently discussed by his predecessors. It would seem that the\nrevival of Platonic studies had followed an order somewhat similar\nto the order in which Plato\u2019s own ideas were evolved. The scepticism\nof the _Apologia_ had been taken up and worked out to its last\nconsequences by the New Academy. The theory of intuitive knowledge,\nthe ethical antithesis between reason and passion, and the doctrine of\nimmortality under its more popular form, had been resumed by the Greek\nand Roman Eclectics. Plutarch busied himself with the erotic philosophy\nof the _Phaedrus_ and the _Symposium_, as also did his successor,\nMaximus Tyrius. In addition to this, he and the other Platonists of\nthe second century paid great attention to the theology adumbrated\nin those dialogues, and in the earlier books of the _Republic_. But\nmeanwhile Neo-Pythagoreanism had intervened to break the normal line\nof development, and, under its influence, Plutarch passed at once to\nthe mathematical puzzles of the _Timaeus_. With Plato himself the\nnext step had been to found a state for the application of his new\nprinciples; and such was the logic of his system, that the whole stress\nof adverse circumstances could not prevent the realisation of a similar\nscheme from being mooted in the third century; while, as we have seen,\nsomething more remotely analogous to it was at that very time being\ncarried out by the Christian Church. Plato\u2019s own disappointed hopes had\nfound relief in the profoundest metaphysical speculations; and now the\ntime has come when his labours in this direction were to engage the\nattention hitherto absorbed by the more popular or literary aspects of\nhis teaching.\n\nNow it was by this side of Platonism that Aristotle also had been most\ndeeply fascinated. While constantly criticising the ideal theory,\nhe had, in truth, accepted it under a modified form. His universal\nclassification is derived from the dialectic method. His psychology and\ntheology are constructed on the spiritualistic basis of the Academy,\nand out of materials which the founder of the Academy had supplied.\nIt was therefore natural that Plotinus should avail himself largely\nof the Stagirite\u2019s help in endeavouring to reproduce what a tradition\nof six centuries had obscured or confused. To reconcile the two Attic\nmasters was, as we know, a common school exercise. Learned commentators\nhad, indeed, placed their disagreement beyond all dispute. But there\nremained the simpler course of bringing their common standpoint into\ngreater prominence, and combining their theories where this seemed\npossible without too openly renouncing the respect due to what almost\nall considered the superior authority of Plato. To which of the two\nmasters Neo-Platonism really owed most is a question that must be\npostponed until we have made ourselves acquainted with the outlines of\nthe system as they appear in the works of Plotinus.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIt has been already mentioned how large a place was given to erotic\nquestions by the literary Platonists of the second century. Even in\nthe school of Plotinus, Platonic love continued to be discussed,\nsometimes with a freedom which pained and disgusted the master beyond\nmeasure.[431] His first essay was apparently suggested by a question\nput to him in the course of some such debate.[432] The subject is\nbeauty. In his treatment of it, we find our philosopher at once rising\nsuperior to the indecorous frivolities of his predecessors. Physical\nbeauty he declares to be the ideal element in objects, that which\nthey have received from the creative soul, and which the perceptive\nsoul recognises as akin to her own essence. Love is nothing but the\nexcitement and joy occasioned by this discovery. But to understand the\ntruer and higher forms of beauty, we must turn away from sensible\nperceptions, and study it as manifested in wise institutions, virtuous\nhabits, and scientific theories. The passionate enthusiasm excited\nby the contemplation of such qualities as magnanimity, or justice,\nor wisdom, or valour can only be explained by assuming that they\nreveal our inmost nature, showing us what we were destined for, what\nwe originally were, and what we have ceased to be. For we need only\nenumerate the vices which make a soul hideous\u2014injustice, sensuality,\ncowardice, and the like\u2014to perceive that they are foreign to her real\nnature, and are imposed on her by contamination with the principle\nof all evil, which is matter. To be brave means not to dread death,\nbecause death is the separation of the soul from the body. Magnanimity\nmeans the neglect of earthly interests. Wisdom means the elevation of\nour thoughts to a higher world. The soul that virtue has thus released\nbecomes pure reason, and reason is just what constitutes her intrinsic\nbeauty. It is also what alone really exists; without it all the rest of\nNature is nothing. Thus foul is opposed to fair, as evil to good and\nfalse to true. Once more, as the soul is beautiful by participation\nin reason, so reason in its turn depends on a still higher principle,\nthe absolute good to which all things aspire, and from which they are\nderived\u2014the one source of life, of reason, and of existence. Behind all\nother loves is the longing for this ultimate good; and in proportion\nto its superiority over their objects is the intensity of the passion\nwhich it inspires, the happiness which its attainment and fruition must\nbestow. He who would behold this supreme beauty must not seek for it\nin the fair forms of the external world, for these are but the images\nand shadows of its glory. It can only be seen with the inward eye, only\nfound in the recesses of our own soul. To comprehend the good we must\nbe good ourselves; or, what is the same thing, we must be ourselves and\nnothing else. In this process of abstraction, we first arrive at pure\nreason, and then we say that the ideas of reason are what constitutes\nbeauty. But beyond reason is that highest good of which beauty is\nmerely the outward vesture, the source and principle from which beauty\nsprings.\n\nIt is evident that what Plotinus says about beauty and love was\nsuggested by the well-known passages on the same subject in the\n_Phaedrus_ and the _Symposium_. His analysis of aesthetic emotion\nhas, however, a much more abstract and metaphysical character than\nthat of his great model. The whole fiction of an antenatal existence\nis quietly let drop. What the sight of sensible beauty awakens in a\nphilosophic soul is not the memory of an ideal beauty beheld in some\nother world, but the consciousness of its own idealising activity, the\ndominion which it exercises over unformed and fluctuating matter. And,\nin all probability, Plato meant no more than this\u2014in fact he hints as\nmuch elsewhere,[433]\u2014but he was not able or did not choose to express\nhimself with such unmistakable clearness.\n\nAgain, this preference for mythological imagery on the part of the\nmore original and poetical thinker seems to be closely connected with\na more vivid interest in the practical duties of life. With Plotinus,\nthe primal beauty or supreme good is something that can be isolated\nfrom all other beauty and goodness, something to be perceived and\nenjoyed in absolute seclusion from one\u2019s fellow-men. God is, indeed,\ndescribed as the source and cause of all other good. But neither here\nnor elsewhere is there a hint that we should strive to resemble him by\nbecoming, in our turn, the cause of good to others. Platonic love, on\nthe contrary, first finds its reality and truth in unremitting efforts\nfor the enlightenment and elevation of others, being related to the\ntransmission of spiritual life just as the love inspired by visible\nbeauty is related to the perpetuation and physical ennoblement of the\nrace.\n\nThis preference of pure abstract speculation to beneficent action may\nbe traced to the influence of Aristotle. Some of the most enthusiastic\nexpressions used by Plotinus in speaking of his supreme principle seem\nto have been suggested by the _Metaphysics_ and the last book of the\n_Nicomachean Ethics_. The self-thinking thought of the Stagirite does\nnot, indeed, take the highest rank with him. But it is retained in his\nsystem, and is only relegated to a secondary place because, for reasons\nwhich we shall explain hereafter, it does not fulfil equally well\nwith Plato\u2019s Idea of Good, the condition of absolute and indivisible\nunity, without which a first principle could not be conceived by any\nGreek philosopher. But this apparent return to the standpoint of the\n_Republic_ really involves a still wider departure from its animating\nspirit. In other words, Plotinus differs from Aristotle as Aristotle\nhimself had differed from Plato; he shares the same speculative\ntendency, and carries it to a greater extreme.\n\nWe have also to note that Plotinus arrives at his Absolute by a method\napparently very different from that pursued by either of his teachers.\nPlato\u2019s primal beauty is, on the face of it, an abstraction and\ngeneralisation from all the scattered and imperfect manifestations of\nbeauty to be met with in our objective experience. And Aristotle is\nled to his conception of an eternal immaterial thought by two lines\nof analysis, both starting from the phenomena of external Nature. The\nproblem of his _Physics_ is to account for the perpetuity of motion.\nThe problem of his _Metaphysics_ is to explain the transformation\nof potential into actual existence. Plotinus, on the other hand, is\nalways bidding us look within. What we admire in the objective world\nis but a reflex of ourselves. Mind is the sole reality; and to grasp\nthis reality under its highest form, we must become like it. Thus the\nmore we isolate our own personality and self-identity from the other\ninterests and experiences of life, the more nearly do we approach to\nconsciousness of and coalescence with the supreme identity wherein all\nthings have their source.\n\nBut on looking at the matter a little more closely, we shall find\nthat Plotinus only set in a clearer light what had all along been\nthe leading motive of his predecessors. We have already observed\nthat Plato\u2019s whole mythological machinery is only a fanciful way\nof expressing that independent experience which the mind derives\nfrom the study of its own spontaneous activity. And the process of\ngeneralisation described in the _Symposium_ is really limited to\nmoral phenomena. Plato\u2019s standpoint is less individualistic than\nthat of Plotinus in so far as it involves a continual reference to\nthe beliefs, experiences, and wants of other men; but it is equally\nsubjective, in the sense of interpreting all Nature by the analogies\nof human life. There are even occasions when his spiritualism goes the\nlength of inculcating complete withdrawal from the world of common\nlife into an ideal sphere, when he seems to identify evil with matter,\nwhen he reduces all virtue to contempt for the interests of the body,\nin language which his Alexandrian successor could adopt without any\nmodification of its obvious meaning.[434]\n\nSo also with Aristotle. As a naturalist, he is, indeed, purely\nobjective; but when he offers a general explanation of the world,\nthe subjective element introduced by Protagoras and Socrates at once\nreappears. Simple absolute self-consciousness is for him the highest\ngood, the animating principle of Nature, the most complete reality,\nand the only one that would remain, were the element of nonentity to\ndisappear from this world. The utter misconception of dynamic phenomena\nwhich marks his physics and astronomy can only be accounted for by his\ndesire to give life the priority over mechanical motion, and reason\nthe priority over life. Thus his metaphysical method is essentially\nidentical with the introspective method recommended by Plotinus, and,\nif fully worked out, might have led to the same results.\n\nWe cannot, then, agree with Zeller, when he groups the Neo-Platonists\ntogether with the other post-Aristotelian schools, on the ground\nthat they are all alike distinguished from Plato and Aristotle by\nthe exclusive attention which they pay to subjective and practical,\nas opposed to scientific and theoretical interests. It seems to us\nthat such distinctions are out of relation to the historical order in\nwhich the different systems of Greek philosophy were evolved. It is\nnot in the substance of their teaching, but in their diminished power\nof original speculation, that the thinkers who came after Aristotle\noffer the strongest contrast to their predecessors. In so far as they\nare exclusively practical and subjective, they follow the Humanists\nand Socrates. In so far as they combine Socratic tendencies with\nphysical studies, they imitate the method of Plato and Aristotle. Their\ncosmopolitan naturalism is inherited from the Cynics in the first\ninstance, more remotely from the physiocratic Sophists, and, perhaps,\nin the last resort, from Heracleitus. Their religion is traceable\neither to Pythagoras, to Socrates, or to Plato. Their scepticism is\nonly a little more developed than that of Protagoras and the Cyrenaics.\nBut if we seek for some one principle held in common by all these later\nschools, and held by none of the earlier schools, we shall seek for\nit in vain. The imitative systems are separated from one another by\nthe same fundamental differences as those which divide the original\nsystems. Now, in both periods, the deepest of all differences is that\nwhich divides the spiritualists from the materialists. In both periods,\nalso, it is materialism that comes first. And in both, the transition\nfrom one doctrine to the other is marked by the exclusive prominence\ngiven to subjective, practical, sceptical, or theological interests\nin philosophy; by the enthusiastic culture of rhetoric in general\neducation; and by a strong religious reaction in the upper ranks of\nsociety.\n\nThus we can quite agree with Zeller when he observes[435] that\nNeo-Platonism only carried out a tendency towards spiritualism which\nhad been already manifesting itself among the later Stoics, and had\nbeen still further developed by the Neo-Pythagoreans. But what does\nthis prove? Not what Zeller contends for, which is that Neo-Platonism\nstands on the same ground with the other post-Aristotelian systems,\nbut simply that a recurrence of the same intellectual conditions was\nbeing followed by a recurrence of the same results. Now, as before,\nmaterialism was proving its inadequacy to account for the facts of\nmental experience. Now, as before, morality, after being cut off from\nphysical laws, was seeking a basis in religious or metaphysical ideas.\nNow, as before, the study of thoughts was succeeding to the study of\nwords, and the methods of popular persuasion were giving place to the\nmethods of dialectical demonstration. Of course, the age of Plotinus\nwas far inferior to the age of Plato in vitality, in genius, and in\ngeneral enlightenment, notwithstanding the enormous extension which\nRoman conquest had given to the superficial area of civilisation, as\nthe difference between the _Enneads_ and the _Dialogues_ would alone\nsuffice to prove. But this does not alter the fact that the general\ndirection of their movement proceeds in parallel lines.\n\nIn saying that the post-Aristotelian philosophers were not original\nthinkers, we must guard against the supposition that they contributed\nnothing of value to thought. On the contrary, while not putting forward\nany new theories, they generalised some of the principles borrowed from\ntheir predecessors, worked out others in minute detail, and stated\nthe arguments on both sides of every controverted point with superior\ndialectic precision. Thus, while materialism had been assumed as\nself-evidently true by the pre-Socratic schools, it was maintained by\nthe Stoics and Epicureans on what seemed to be grounds of experience\nand reason. And, similarly, we find that Plotinus, having arrived at\nthe consciousness that spiritualism is the common ground on which\nPlato and Aristotle stand, the connecting trait which most completely\ndistinguishes them from their successors, proceeds in his second\nessay[436] to argue the case against materialism more powerfully than\nit had ever been argued before, and with nearly as much effect as it\nhas ever been argued since.\n\n\nV.\n\nOur personality, says the Alexandrian philosopher, cannot be a property\nof the body, for this is composed of parts, and is in a state of\nperpetual flux. A man\u2019s self, then, is his soul; and the soul cannot\nbe material, for the ultimate elements of matter are inanimate, and\nit is inconceivable that animation and reason should result from the\naggregation of particles which, taken singly, are destitute of both;\nwhile, even were it possible, their disposition in a certain order\nwould argue the presence of an intelligence controlling them from\nwithout. The Stoics themselves admit the force of these considerations,\nwhen they attribute reason to the fiery element or vital breath by\nwhich, according to them, all things are shaped. They do, indeed, talk\nabout a certain elementary disposition as the principle of animation,\nbut this disposition is either identical with the matter possessing it,\nin which case the difficulties already mentioned recur, or distinct\nfrom it, in which case the animating principle still remains to be\naccounted for.\n\nAgain, to suppose that the soul shares in the changes of the body is\nincompatible with the self-identity which memory reveals. To suppose\nthat it is an extended substance is incompatible with its simultaneous\npresence, as an indivisible whole, at every point to which its activity\nreaches; as well as with the circumstance that all our sensations,\nthough received through different organs, are referred to a common\ncentre of consciousness. If the sensorium is a fluid body it will have\nno more power of retaining impressions than water; while, if it is a\nsolid, new impressions will either not be received at all, or only when\nthe old impressions are effaced.\n\nPassing from sensation to thought, it is admitted that abstract\nconceptions are incorporeal: how, then, can they be received and\nentertained by a corporeal substance? Or what possible connexion can\nthere be between different arrangements of material particles and such\nnotions as temperance and justice? This is already a sufficiently near\napproach to the language of modern philosophy. In another essay, which\naccording to the original arrangement stands third, and must have\nbeen composed immediately after that whence the foregoing arguments\nare transcribed, there is more than an approach, there is complete\ncoincidence.[437] To deduce mind from atoms is, says Plotinus, if\nwe may so speak, still more impossible than to deduce it from the\nelementary bodies. Granting that the atoms have a natural movement\ndownwards, granting that they suffer a lateral deflection and so\nimpinge on one another, still this could do no more than produce a\ndisturbance in the bodies against which they strike. But to what atomic\nmovement can one attribute psychic energies and affections? What sort\nof collision in the vertical line of descent, or in the oblique line\nof deflection, or in any direction you please, will account for the\nappearance of a particular kind of reasoning or mental impulse or\nthought, or how can it account for the existence of such processes at\nall? Here, of course, Plotinus is alluding to the Epicureans; but it is\nwith the Stoic and other schools that he is principally concerned, and\nwe return to his attack on their psychology.\n\nThe activities of the soul are thought, sensation, reasoning, desire,\nattention, and so forth: the activities of body are heat, cold, impact,\nand gravitation; if to these we add the characteristics of mind, the\nlatter will have no special properties by which it can be known. And\neven in body we distinguish between quantity and quality; the former,\nat most, being corporeal, and the latter not corporeal at all. Here\nPlotinus just touches the idealistic method of modern spiritualism, but\nfails to follow it any further. He seems to have adopted Aristotle\u2019s\nnatural realism as a sufficient theory of external perception, and to\nhave remained uninfluenced by Plato\u2019s distrust of sensible appearances.\n\nAfter disposing of the Stoic materialism, according to which the soul,\nthough distinct from the body, is, equally with it, an extended and\nresisting substance, our philosopher proceeds to discuss the theories\nwhich make it a property or function of the body. The Pythagorean\nnotion of the soul as a harmony of the body is met by a reproduction\nof the well-known arguments used against it in Plato\u2019s _Phaedo_. Then\ncomes the Aristotelian doctrine that the soul is the entelechy\u2014that\nis to say, the realised purpose and perfection\u2014of the physical\norganism to which it belongs. This is an idea which Aristotle himself\nhad failed to make very clear, and the inadequacy of which he had\nvirtually acknowledged by ascribing a different origin to reason,\nalthough this is counted as one of the psychic faculties. Plotinus,\nat any rate, could not appreciate an explanation which, whatever else\nit implied, certainly involved a considerable departure from his own\ndualistic interpretation of the difference between spirit and matter.\nHe could not enter into Aristotle\u2019s view of the one as a lower and less\nconcentrated form of the other. The same arguments which had already\nbeen employed against Stoicism are now turned against the Peripatetic\npsychology. The soul as a principle, not only of memory and desire,\nbut even of nutrition, is declared to be independent of and separable\nfrom the body. And, finally, as a result of the whole controversy, its\nimmortality is affirmed. But how far this immortality involves the\nbelief in a prolongation of personal existence after death, is a point\nwhich still remains uncertain. We shall return to the question in\ndealing with the religious opinions of Plotinus.\n\nClosely connected with the materialism of the Stoics, and equally\nadverse to the principles of Plato and Aristotle, was their fatalism.\nIn opposition to this, Plotinus proceeds to develop the spiritualistic\ndoctrine of free-will.[438] In the previous discussion, we had to\nnotice how closely his arguments resemble those employed by more\nmodern controversialists. We have here to point out no less wide a\ndifference between the two. Instead of presenting free-will as a fact\nof consciousness which is itself irreconcilable with the dependence\nof mental on material changes, our philosopher, conversely, infers\nthat the soul must be free both from the conditions of mechanical\ncausation and from the general interdependence of natural forces,\nbecause it is an individual substance.[439] In truth, the phenomena\nof volition were handled by the ancient philosophers with a vagueness\nand a feebleness offering the most singular contrast to their\npowerful and discriminating grasp of other psychological problems.\nOf necessarianism, in the modern sense, they had no idea. Aristotle\nfailed to see that, quite apart from external restraints, our choice\nmay conceivably be determined with the utmost rigour by an internal\nmotive; nor could he understand that the circumstances which make a\nman responsible for his actions do not amount to a release of his\nconduct from the law of universal causation. In this respect, Plato\nsaw somewhat deeper than his disciple, but created fresh confusion\nby identifying freedom with the supremacy of reason over irrational\ndesire.[440] Plotinus generally adopts the Platonist point of view.\nAccording to this, the soul is free when she is extricated from the\nbonds of matter, and determined solely by the conditions of her\nspiritual existence. Thus virtue is not so much free as identical with\nfreedom; while, contrariwise, vice means enslavement to the affections\nof the body, and therefore comes under the domain of material\ncausation.[441] Yet, again, in criticising the fatalistic theories\nwhich represent human actions as entirely predetermined by divine\nprovidence, he protests against the ascription of so much that is evil\nto so good a source, and insists that at least the bad actions of men\nare due to their own free choice.[442]\n\nIn vindicating human freedom, Plotinus had to encounter a difficulty\nexceedingly characteristic of his age. This was the astrological\nsuperstition that everything depended on the stars, and that the future\nfate of every person might be predicted by observing their movements\nand configurations at the time of his birth. Philosophers found it\nmuch easier to demolish the pretensions of astrology by an abstract\ndemonstration of their absurdity, than to get rid of the supposed facts\nwhich were currently quoted in their favour. That fortunes could be\nforetold on the strength of astronomical calculations with as much\ncertainty as eclipses, seems to have been an accepted article of belief\nin the time of Plotinus, and one which he does not venture to dispute.\nHe is therefore obliged to satisfy himself with maintaining that the\nstars do not cause, but merely foreshow the future, in the same manner\nas the flight of birds, to the prophetic virtue of which he also\nattaches implicit credence. All parts of Nature are connected by such\nan intimate sympathy, that each serves as a clue to the rest; and, on\nthis principle, the stars may be regarded as the letters of a scripture\nin which the secrets of futurity are revealed.[443]\n\nHow much originality there may be in the anti-materialistic arguments\nof Plotinus we cannot tell. He certainly marks a great advance on Plato\nand Aristotle, approximating, in this respect, much more closely than\nthey do to the modern standpoint. The indivisibility and permanence of\nmind had, no doubt, been strongly insisted on by those teachers, in\ncontrast with the extended and fluctuating nature of body. But they did\nnot, like him, deduce these characteristics from a direct analysis of\nconsciousness as such. Plato inferred the simplicity and self-identity\nof mind from the simplicity and self-identity of the ideas which it\ncontemplates. Aristotle went a step further, or perhaps only expressed\nthe same meaning more clearly, when he associated immateriality with\nthe identity of subject and object in thought.[444] Moreover, both\nPlato and Aristotle seem to have rested the whole spiritualistic case\non objective rather than on subjective considerations; although, as we\nhave seen, the subjective interest was what dominated all the while\nin their thoughts. Starting with the analogy of a living body, Plato\nargues, both in the _Phaedrus_ and in the _Laws_, that soul must\neverywhere be the first cause of motion, and therefore must exist\nprior to body.[445] The elaborate scientific analysis of Aristotle\u2019s\n_Physics_ leads up to a similar conclusion; and the ontological\nanalysis of the _Metaphysics_ starts with the distinction between\nForm and Matter in bodies, to end with the question of their relative\npriority, and of the objective machinery by which they are united.\nPlotinus, too, sometimes refers to mind as the source of physical\norder; but this is rather in deference to his authorities than because\nthe necessity of such an explanation seemed to him, as it did to them,\nthe deepest ground of a spiritualistic philosophy. On the other hand,\nhis psychological arguments for the immateriality of the soul are drawn\nfrom a wider area of experience than theirs, feeling being taken into\naccount no less than thought; instead of restricting himself to one\nparticular kind of cognition for evidence of spiritual power, he looks\nfor it in every manifestation of living personality.\n\nIn criticising the Stoic system as a whole, the New Academy and the\nlater Sceptics had incidentally dwelt on sundry absurdities which\nfollowed from the materialistic interpretation of knowledge; and\nPlotinus evidently derived some of his most forcible objections from\ntheir writings; but no previous philosopher that we know of had set\nforth the whole case for spiritualism and against materialism with\nsuch telling effect. And what is, perhaps, more important than any\noriginality in detail, is the profound insight shown in choosing this\nwhole question of spiritualism _versus_ materialism for the ground\nwhereon the combined forces of Plato and Aristotle were to fight their\nfirst battle against the naturalistic system which had triumphed\nover them five centuries before. It was on dialectical and ethical\ngrounds that the controversy between Porch and Academy, on ethical\nand religious grounds that the controversy between Epicureanism and\nall other schools of philosophy, had hitherto been conducted. Cicero\nand Plutarch never allude to their opponents as materialists. Only\nonce, in his polemic against Col\u00f4tes, does Plutarch observe that\nneither a soul nor anything else could be made out of atoms, but this\nis because they are discrete, not because they are extended.[446] For\nthe rest, his method is to trip up his opponents by pointing out their\ninconsistencies, rather than to cut the ground from under their feet by\nproving that their theory of the universe is wrong.\n\nUnder such guidance as this. Platonism had made but little way. We\nsaw, in the concluding sections of the last chapter and in the opening\nsection of the present chapter, that it profited by the religious and\nliterary revival of the second century, just as it was to profit long\nafterwards by the greater revival of the fifteenth century, so much so\nas to become the fashionable philosophy of the age. Yet, even in that\nperiod of its renewed splendour, the noblest of contemporary thinkers\nwas not a Platonist but a Stoic; and although it would be unfair to\nmeasure the moral distance between the Porch and the Academy by the\ninterval which separates an Aurelius from an Apuleius, still it would\nseem as if naturalism continued to be the chosen creed of strenuous and\ndutiful endeavour, while spiritualism was drifting into an alliance\nwith hysterical and sensuous superstition. If we may judge by the\npoints which Sextus Empiricus selects for controversial treatment,\nStoicism was still the reigning system in his time, that is to say,\nabout the beginning of the third century; and if, a generation later,\nit had sunk into neglect, every rival school, except that of Epicurus,\nwas in exactly the same condition. Thus the only advance made was to\nsubstitute one form of materialism for another, until Neo-Platonism\ncame and put an end to their disputes by destroying the common\nfoundation on which they stood; while, at the same time, it supplied a\ncompletely organised doctrine round which the nobler elements of the\nHellenic revival could rally for a last stand against the foes that\nwere threatening it from every side.\n\n\nVI.\n\nWe have seen how Plotinus establishes the spiritualistic basis of\nhis philosophy. We have now to see how he works out from it in all\ndirections, developing the results of his previous enquiries into a\ncomplete metaphysical system. It will have been observed that the whole\nmethod of reasoning by which materialism was overthrown, rested on the\nantithesis between the unity of consciousness and the divisibility of\ncorporeal substance. Very much the same method was afterwards employed\nby Cartesianism to demonstrate the same conclusion. But with Descartes\nand his followers, the opposition between soul and body was absolute,\nthe former being defined as pure thought, the latter as pure extension.\nHence the extreme difficulty which they experienced in accounting for\nthe evident connexion between the two. The spiritualism of Plotinus\ndid not involve any such impassable chasm between consciousness and\nits object. According to him, although the soul is contained in or\ndepends on an absolutely self-identical unity, she is not herself\nthat unity, but in some degree shares the characters of divisibility\nand extension.[447] If we conceive all existence as bounded at either\nextremity by two principles, the one extended and the other inextended,\nthen soul will still stand midway between them; not divided in herself,\nbut divided in respect to the bodies which she animates. Plotinus holds\nthat such an assumption is necessitated by the facts of sensation.\nA feeling of pain, for example, is located in a particular point of\nthe body, and is, at the same time, apprehended as my feeling, not\nas some one else\u2019s. A similar synthesis obtains through the whole of\nNature. The visible universe consists of many heterogeneous parts, held\ntogether by a single animating principle. And we can trace the same\nqualities and figures through a multitude of concrete individuals,\ntheir essential unity remaining unbroken, notwithstanding the\ndispersion of the objects in which they inhere.\n\nHere Plotinus avowedly follows the teaching of Plato, who, in the\n_Timaeus_, describes Being or Substance as composed by mingling\nthe indivisible and unchanging with the divisible and corporeal\nprinciple.[448] And, although there is no express reference, we know\nthat in placing soul between the two, he was equally following Plato.\nIt is otherwise in the next essay, which undertakes to give a more\nexplicit analysis of psychical phenomena.[449] The soul, we are told,\nconsists, like external objects, of two elements related to one another\nas Form and Matter. These are reason and sense. The office of the\nformer is, primarily, to enlighten and control the latter. Plato had\nalready pointed to such a distinction; but Aristotle was the first to\nwork it out clearly, and to make it the hinge of his whole system.\nIt is, accordingly, under the guidance of Aristotle that Plotinus\nproceeds in what he has next to say. Just as there is a soul of the\nworld corresponding to our soul, so also, he argues, there must be a\nuniversal objective Reason outside and above the world. In speaking\nof this Reason, we shall, for clearness\u2019 sake, in general call it by\nits Greek name, Nous. Nous, according to Aristotle, is the faculty\nby which we apprehend abstract ideas; it is self-thinking thought;\nand, as such, it is the prime mover of Nature. Plotinus adopts the\nfirst two positions unreservedly, and the third to a certain extent;\nwhile he brings all three into combination with the Platonic theory\nof ideas. It had always been an insuperable difficulty in the way of\nPlato\u2019s teaching that it necessitated, or seemed to necessitate, the\nunintelligible notion of ideas existing without any mind to think\nthem. For a disciple of Aristotle, the difficulty ceases to exist if\nthe archetypal essences assumed by Plato are conceived as residing\nin an eternal Nous. But, on the other hand, how are we to reconcile\nsuch an accommodation with Aristotle\u2019s principle, that the Supreme\nIntelligence can think nothing but itself? Simply by generalising from\nthe same master\u2019s doctrine that the human Nous is identical with the\nideas which it contemplates. Thought and its object are everywhere one.\nThus, according to Plotinus, the absolute Nous embraces the totality of\narchetypes or forms which we see reflected and embodied in the material\nuniverse. In thinking them, it thinks itself, not passing from one to\nthe other as in discursive reasoning, nor bringing them into existence\nby the act of thought, but apprehending them as simultaneously present\nrealities.\n\nTo explain how the Nous could be identical with a number of distinct\nideas was a difficult problem. We shall have to show at a more\nadvanced stage of our exposition how Plotinus endeavoured to solve\nit with the help of Plato\u2019s _Sophist_. In the essay where his theory\nis first put forward, he cuts the knot by asserting that each idea\nvirtually contains every other, while each in its actual and separate\nexistence is, so to speak, an independent Nous. But correlation is\nnot identity; and to say that each idea thinks itself is not to\nexplain how the same subject can think, and in thinking be identical\nwith all. The personal identity of the thinking subject still stands\nin unreconciled opposition to the multitude of thoughts which it\nentertains, whether successively or in a single intuition. Of two\nthings one: either the unity of the Nous or the diversity of its ideas\nmust be sacrificed. Plotinus evades the alternative by a kind of\nthree-card trick. Sometimes his ideal unity is to be found under the\nnotion of convergence to a common centre, sometimes under the notion\nof participation in a common property, sometimes under the notion of\nmutual equivalence.\n\nThe confusion was partly inherited from Aristotle. When discussing\nthe psychology of that philosopher, we showed that his active Nous\nis no other than the idea of which we are at any moment actually\nconscious. Our own reason is the passive Nous, whose identity is lost\nin the multiplicity of objects with which it becomes identified in\nturn. But Aristotle was careful not to let the personality of God, or\nthe supreme Nous, be endangered by resolving it into the totality of\nsubstantial forms which constitute Nature. God is self-conscious in the\nstrictest sense. He thinks nothing but himself. Again, the subjective\nstarting-point of Plotinus may have affected his conception of the\nuniversal Nous. A single individual may isolate himself from his\nfellows in so far as he is a sentient being; he cannot do so in so far\nas he is a rational being. His reason always addresses itself to the\nreason of some one else\u2014a fact nowhere brought out so clearly as in the\ndialectic philosophy of Socrates and Plato. Then, when an agreement\nhas been established, their minds, before so sharply divided, seem to\nbe, after all, only different personifications of the same universal\nspirit. Hence reason, no less than its objects, comes to be conceived\nas both many and one. And this synthesis of contradictories meets us in\nmodern German as well as in ancient Greek philosophy.\n\nAfter his preliminary analysis of Nous, we find Plotinus working out\nin two directions from the conception so obtained.[450] He begins by\nexplaining in what relation the human soul stands to the universal\nreason. To him, personally, it seemed as if the world of thought into\nwhich he penetrated by reflecting on his own inmost essence, was so\nmuch the real home of his soul that her presence in a bodily habitation\npresented itself as a difficulty requiring to be cleared up. In this\nconnexion, he refers to the opinions of the Pythagoreans, who looked\non our earthly life as an unmixed evil, a punishment for some sin\ncommitted in a former stage of existence. Their views seem to have\nbeen partly shared by Plato. Sometimes he calls the body a prison and\na tomb into which the soul has fallen from her original abode. Yet, in\nhis _Timaeus_, he glorifies the visible world, and tells us that the\nuniversal soul was divinely appointed to give it life and reason; while\nour individual souls have also their part to play in perfecting the\nsame providential scheme.\n\nIt is to the second theory that Plotinus evidently leans. However\nclosely his life may have been conformed to the Pythagorean model\u2014a\npoint with respect to which we have nothing better than the very\nprejudiced statements of Porphyry to rely on\u2014there is no trace of\nPythagorean asceticism in his writings. Hereafter we shall see how\nhostile he was to Gnostic pessimism. In the preceding essay, he had\nalready specified admiration for physical beauty as a first and\nnecessary step in the soul\u2019s ascent to a contemplation of spiritual\nrealities;[451] and now it is under the guidance of Plato\u2019s later\nspeculations that he proceeds to account for her descent from that\nhigher world to the restraints of matter and of sense.\n\nWith regard to the universal soul of Nature, there is, indeed, no\ndifficulty at all. In giving a sensible realisation to the noetic\nideas, she suffers no degradation or pollution by contact with the\nlower elements of matter. Enthroned on the outer verge of the cosmos,\nshe governs the whole course of Nature by a simple exercise of\nvolition, and in the enjoyment of a felicity which remains undisturbed\nby passion or desire. But just as we have seen the supreme Nous\nresolving itself into a multitude of individual intelligences, so also\ndoes the cosmic soul produce many lesser or partial souls of which\nour own is one. Now these derivative souls cannot all be equal, for\nthat would be to defeat the purpose of creation, which is to realise\nall the possibilities of creation from the highest to the lowest.\nThus each has an office corresponding to her place in the scale of\nperfection.[452] We may say of the human soul that she stoops to\nconquer. Her mission is to cope with the more recalcitrant forms of\nmatter. It is to the struggle with their impurities that the troubles\nand passions of our life are due. By yielding to earthly temptations,\nwe suffer a second fall, and one much more real than the first; by\novercoming them, as is perfectly in our power to do, we give scope and\nexercise to faculties which would otherwise have remained dormant\nand unknown. Moreover, our soul retains the privilege of returning\nto her former abode, enriched by the experience acquired in this\nworld, and with that clearer perception of good which the knowledge\nof its opposite alone can supply. Nay, paradoxical as the assertion\nmay seem, she has not entirely descended to earth, but remains in\npartial communication with the noetic world by virtue of her reasoning\nfaculty; that is to say, when its intuitions are not darkened and\ndisturbed by the triumph of sensuous impressions over the lower soul.\nOn this and on many other occasions, Plotinus betrays a glimmering\nconsciousness that his philosophy is purely subjective, and that its\nattempted transcendentalism is, in truth, a projection of psychological\ndistinctions into the external world. Starting with the familiar\ndivision of human nature into body, soul, and spirit (or reason),\nhe endeavours to find an objective counterpart for each. Body is\nrepresented by the material universe, soul by the animating principle\nof Nature, reason by the extramundane Nous. Under these three heads is\ncomprised the totality of real existence; but existence itself has to\nbe accounted for by a principle lying above and beyond it, which has\nstill to be obtained by an effort of abstraction from the data that\nself-consciousness supplies.[453]\n\nIn his very first essay, Plotinus had hinted at a principle higher and\nmore primordial than the absolute Nous, something with which the soul\nis connected by the mediation of Nous, just as she herself mediates\nbetween Nous and the material world. The notion of such a supreme\nprinciple was derived from Plato. In the sixth and seventh books of\nthe _Republic_, we are told that at the summit of the dialectic series\nstands an idea to grasp which is the ultimate object of all reasoning.\nPlato calls this the Idea of Good, and describes it as holding a place\nin the intellectual world analogous to that held by the sun in the\nphysical world. For, just as the sun brings all visible things into\nbeing, and also gives the light by which they are seen, so also the\nGood is not only that by which the objects of knowledge are known, but\nalso that whence their existence is derived, while at the same time\nitself transcending existence in dignity and power.[454]\n\nIn a former part of this work[455] we found reason to believe that\nPlato\u2019s supreme good is no other than the Idea of Sameness which occurs\nin the _Sophist_ and in the _Timaeus_, where it is correlated with\nthe Idea of Difference; and we also concluded that the divine creator\nof the last-named dialogue is intended to represent it under a more\nconcrete and popular form.[456] We may, perhaps, also discover it in\nthe Limit of the _Phil\u00eabus_; and if we are to believe what Aristotle\ntells us about the later teaching of Plato, it seems to have finally\ncoalesced with the Pythagorean One, which combines with the unlimited\nDyad to form first number, and then everything else, just as the Same\ncombines with the Different to form existence in the _Timaeus_.[457]\n\nFor the Platonic Idea of Good, Aristotle had substituted his own\nconception of self-thinking thought, as the absolute on which all\nNature hangs: and we have seen how Plotinus follows him to the extent\nof admitting that this visible universe is under the immediate control\nof an incorporeal Reason, which also serves as a receptacle for the\nPlatonic Ideas. But what satisfied Aristotle does not fully satisfy\nhim. The first principle must be one, and Nous fails to answer the\nconditions of absolute unity, Even self-thinking thought involves the\nelementary dualism of object and subject. Again, as Plotinus somewhat\ninconsistently argues, Nous, being knowledge, must cognise something\nsimpler than itself.[458] Or, perhaps, what he means is that in Nous,\nwhich is its product, the first principle becomes self-conscious.\nConsciousness means a check on the outflow of energy due to the\nrestraining action of the One, a return to and reflection on itself of\nthe creative power.[459]\n\nIf the necessity of the One is proved by the inward differentiation\nof what seemed most simple, it is also proved by the integration of\nwhat seems most divided. In his next essay, our philosopher wanders\noff from the investigation of what he has just begun, by abruptly\nstarting the question whether all souls are one.[460] This question\nis, however, most intimately connected with his main theme. He answers\nit in the affirmative. Strictly personal as our feelings seem, we are,\nin reality, one with each other, through our joint participation in\nthe world-soul. Love and sympathy among human beings are solely due to\nthis connexion. Plotinus mentions, as another evidence of its reality,\nthe secret affinities called into play even at a great distance by\nmagical spells\u2014an allusion very characteristic of his age.[461] What\nprevents us from more fully perceiving the unity of all souls is the\nseparateness of the bodies with which they are associated. Matter is\nthe principle of individuation. But even within the soul there is a\ndivision between the rational and the irrational part, concentration\nbeing the characteristic of the one and dispersion of the other. The\nlatter is fitted by its divided nature for presiding over the bodily\nfunctions of sensation and nutrition; and with the dissolution of the\nbody it returns to the unity of the higher soul. There are two ways in\nwhich we can account for this pervading unity. It is either as products\nor as portions of the universal soul that all particular souls are\none. Plotinus combines both explanations. The world-soul first gives\nbirth to an image of itself, and then this is subdivided into as many\npartial souls as there are bodies requiring animation.\n\nOn extending our survey still wider, we find that the existence of\na thing everywhere depends on its unity.[462] All bodies perish by\ndissolution, and dissolution means the loss of unity. Health, beauty,\nand virtue are merely so many different kinds of harmony and unison.\nShall we then say that soul, as the great unifying power in Nature, is\nthe One of which we are in search? Not so; for preceding investigations\nhave taught us that soul is only an agent for transmitting ideas\nreceived from a higher power; and the psychic faculties themselves are\nheld together by a unifying principle for which we have to account.\nNeither is the whole sum of existence the One, for its very name\nimplies a plurality of parts. And the claims of the Nous to that\ndistinction have been already disproved. In short, nothing that exists\ncan be the One, for, as we have seen, unity is the cause of existence\nand must therefore precede it.\n\n \u2018What then,\u2019 asks Plotinus, \u2018is the One? No easy question to answer\n for us whose knowledge is based on ideas, and who can hardly tell what\n ideas are, or what is existence itself. The farther the soul advances\n in this formless region, where there is nothing for her to grasp,\n nothing whose impress she can receive, the more does her footing fail\n her, the more helpless and desolate does she feel. Oftentimes she\n wearies of such searching and is glad to leave it all and to descend\n into the world of sense until she finds rest on the solid earth,\n as the eyes are relieved in turning from small objects to large.\n For she does not know that to be one herself is to have gained the\n object of her search, for then she is no other than that which she\n knows. Nevertheless it is only by this method that we can master the\n philosophy of the One. Since, then, what we seek is one, and since we\n are considering the first principle of all things and the Good, he who\n enters on this quest must not place himself afar from the things that\n are first by descending to the things that are last, but he must leave\n the objects of sense, and, freed from all evil, ascend to the first\n principle of his own nature, that by becoming one, instead of many, he\n may behold the beginning and the One. Therefore he must become Reason,\n trusting his soul to Reason for guidance and support, that she may\n wakefully receive what it sees, and with this he must behold the One,\n not admitting any element of sense, but gazing on the purest with pure\n Reason and with that which in Reason is first. Should he who addresses\n himself to this enterprise imagine that the object of his vision\n possesses magnitude or form or bulk, then Reason is not his guide,\n for such perceptions do not belong to its nature but to sense and to\n the opinion which follows on sense. No; we must only pledge Reason to\n perform what it can do. Reason sees what precedes, or what contains,\n or what is derived from itself. Pure are the things in it, purer\n still those which precede, or rather, that which precedes it. This is\n neither reason nor anything that is; for whatever is has the form of\n existence, whereas this has none, not even an ideal form. For the One,\n whose nature is to generate all things, cannot be any of those things\n itself. Therefore it is neither substance, nor quality, nor reason,\n nor soul; neither moving nor at rest, not in place, not in time, but\n unique of its kind, or rather kindless, being before all kind, before\n motion and before rest, for these belong to being, and are that to\n which its multiplicity is due. Why, then, if it does not move, is it\n not at rest? Because while one or both of these must be attributed\n to being, the very act of attribution involves a distinction between\n subject and predicate, which is impossible in the case of what is\n absolutely simple.\u2019[463]\n\nThe One cannot, properly speaking, be an object of knowledge, but is\napprehended by something higher than knowledge. This is why Plato\ncalls it ineffable and indescribable. What we can describe is the\nway to the view, not the view itself. The soul which has never been\nirradiated with the light of that supreme splendour, nor filled with\nthe passionate joy of a lover finding rest in the contemplation of his\nbeloved, cannot be given that experience in words. But the beatific\nvision is open to all. He from whom it is hidden has only himself\nto blame. Let him break away from the restraints of sense and place\nhimself under the guidance of philosophy, that philosophy which leads\nfrom matter to spirit, from soul to Nous, from Nous to the One.\n\nPlotinus himself, we are told, reached the climax of complete\nunification several times in his life, Porphyry only once, in the\nsixty-eighth year of his age. Probably the condition so denominated\nwas a species of hypnotic trance. Its importance in the Neo-Platonic\nsystem has been considerably exaggerated, and on the strength of this\nsingle point some critics have summarily disposed of Plotinus and his\nwhole school as unreasoning mystics. Mysticism is a vague word capable\nof very various applications. In the present instance, we presume that\nit is used to express a belief in the existence of some method for the\ndiscovery of truth apart from tradition; observation, and reasoning.\nAnd, taken in this sense, the Neo-Platonic method of arriving at a\nfull apprehension of the One would be considered an extreme instance\nof mysticism. We must bear in mind, however, that Plotinus arrives\nat an intellectual conception of absolute unity by the most strictly\nlogical process. It makes no difference that his reasoning is unsound,\nfor the same criticism applies to other philosophers who have never\nbeen accused of mysticism. It may be said that after leading us up\nto a certain point, reason is replaced by intuition. Rather, what\nthe ultimate intuition does is not to take the place of logic, but\nto substitute a living realisation for an abstract and negative\nconception. Moreover, the intuition is won not by forsaking logic,\nbut by straining its resources to the very utmost. Again, one great\ncharacteristic of mysticism, as ordinarily understood, is to deny the\ntruth of common observation and reasoning. Now Plotinus never goes this\nlength. As we have already remarked, he does not even share Plato\u2019s\ndistrust of sensible impressions, but rather follows the example of\nAristotle in recognising their validity within a certain sphere. Nor\ndoes he mention having received any revelations of divine truth during\nhis intercourse with the absolute One. This alone marks an immense\ndifference between his ecstasies\u2014if such they can be called\u2014and those\nof the Christian mystics with whom he is associated by M. Barth\u00e9lemy\nSaint-Hilaire.[464]\n\nIt may be said that the One is itself a mystical conception, involving\na reversal of all our ordinary beliefs. The universe is a vast\nmultiplicity of objects, held together, if you will, by some secret\nbond of union possibly related to the personal unity of consciousness,\nbut still neither lost nor confused in its identity. Precisely;\nbut Plotinus himself fully admits as much. His One is the cause of\nexistence, not existence itself. He knows just as well as we do, that\nthe abstract idea of unity has no reality apart from the mind. But if\nso, why should he associate it, in the true mystical style, with the\ntransports of amorous passion? The question is pertinent, but it might\nbe addressed to other Greek systems as well. We must remember that\nPlotinus is only commenting and enlarging on Plato. In the _Republic_\nalso, the Idea of Good is described as transcending the existence and\nthe knowledge which it produces,[465] and in the _Symposium_, the\nabsolute self beautiful, which seems to be the Good under another\nname, is spoken of in terms not less passionately enthusiastic than\nany applied by Plotinus to the vision of the One.[466] Doubtless the\npractical sense of the great Attic master did not desert him even here:\nthe object of all thought, in its widest sweep and in its highest\nflight, is to find room for every possible expansion of knowledge,\nfor every possible elevation of life. Plotinus was a stranger to\nsuch broad views; but in departing from Plato, as usual he follows\nAristotle. The absolute self-thinking thought of the Stagirite is,\nwhen we examine it closely, only one degree less chimerical than the\nNeo-Platonic unification. For it means consciousness of self without\nthe correlative consciousness of a not-self, and as such, according\nto Aristotle, it affords an eternal felicity equal or superior to the\nbest and happiest moments of our sensitive human life. What Plotinus\ndoes is to isolate personal identity from reason and, as such, to make\nit at once the cause and the supreme ideal of existence. This involves\ntwo errors: first a false abstraction of one subjective phenomenon\nfrom the sum total of conscious life; and, secondly, an illegitimate\ngeneralisation of this abstraction into an objective law of things.\nBut in both errors, Aristotle had preceded him, by dissociating reason\nfrom all other mental functions, and by then attributing the whole\ncosmic movement to the love which this isolated faculty of reason, in\nits absolute self-existence, for ever inspires. And he also set the\nexample of associating happiness, which is an emotional state, with an\nintellectual abstraction from which emotion is necessarily excluded.\n\nAgain, the Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics all pass for being absolute\nrationalists. Yet their common ideal of impassive self-possession,\nwhen worked out to its logical consequences, becomes nearly\nindistinguishable from the self-simplification of Plotinus. All alike\nexhibit the Greek tendency towards endless abstraction\u2014what we have\ncalled the analytical moment of Greek thought, working together with\nthe moments of antithesis and circumscription. The sceptical isolation\nof man from Nature, the Epicurean isolation of the individual from the\ncommunity, the Stoic isolation of will from feeling, reached their\nhighest and most abstract expression in the Neo-Platonic isolation of\npure self-identity from all other modes of consciousness and existence\ncombined.\n\nIn estimating the intellectual character of Plotinus, we must also\nremember that the theory of the absolute One occupies a relatively\nsmall place in his speculations; while, at a rough computation, the\npurely mystical portions of his writings\u2014by which we understand those\nin which allusion is made to personal and incommunicable experiences\nof his own\u2014do not amount to more than one per cent. of the whole. If\nthese have attracted more attention than all the rest put together,\nthe reason probably is that they offer an agreeable relief to the\narid scholasticism which fills so much of the _Enneads_, and that\nthey are the only very original contribution made by Plotinus to\nGreek literature. But the significance of a writer must not always be\nmeasured by his most original passages, and this is eminently true\nof our philosopher. His great merit was to make the spiritualism of\nPlato and Aristotle more intelligible and interesting than it had\nbeen before, and to furnish reason with a rallying-point when it was\nthreatened with utter destruction by the religious revival of the\nempire.\n\n\nVII.\n\nSo far our investigation has been analytical. We have seen Plotinus\nacquire, one after another, the elements out of which his system has\nstill to be constructed. The first step was to separate spirit from\nmatter. They are respectively distinguished as principles of union and\nof division. The bodies given to us in experience are a combination of\nthe two, a dispersion of form over an infinitely extended, infinitely\ndivisible, infinitely changeful substratum. Our own souls, which at\nfirst seemed so absolutely self-identical, present, on examination,\na similarly composite character. A fresh analysis results in the\nseparation of Nous or Reason from the lower functions of conscious\nlife. And we infer by analogy that the soul in Nature bears the same\nrelation to a transcendent objective Nous. Nous is essentially pure\nself-consciousness, and from this self-consciousness the world of\nIdeas is developed. Properly speaking, Ideas are the sole reality:\nsensible forms are an image of them impressed on matter through the\nagency of the world-soul. But Nous, or the totality of Ideas, though\nhigh, is not the highest. All that has hitherto occupied us, Nature,\nSoul, and Reason, is pervaded by a fundamental unity, without which\nnothing could exist. But Soul is not herself this unity, nor is Reason.\nSelf-consciousness, even in its purest expression, involves a duality\nof object and subject. The notion of Being is distinct from the notion\nof oneness. The principle represented by the latter, as the cause of\nall things, must itself transcend existence. At the same time, it is\nrevealed to us by the fact of our own personal identity. To be united\nwith oneself is to be united with the One.\n\nThus we have, in all, five gradations: the One, Nous, Soul, the\nsensible world, and, lastly, unformed Matter. Taken together, the\nfirst three constitute a triad of spiritual principles, and, as such,\nare associated in a single group by Plotinus.[467] Sometimes they are\nspoken of as the Alexandrian Trinity. But the implied comparison with\nthe Trinity of Catholicism is misleading. With Neo-Platonism, the\nsupreme unity is, properly speaking, alone God and alone One. Nous\nis vastly inferior to the first principle, and Soul, again, to Nous.\nPossibly the second and third principles are personal; the first most\ncertainly is not, since self-consciousness is expressly denied to it\nby Plotinus. Nor is it likely that the idea of a supernatural triad\nwas suggested to Neo-Platonism by Christianity. Each of the three\nprinciples may be traced to its source in Greek philosophy. This\nhas been already shown in the case of the One and of the Nous. The\nuniversal soul is to be found in Plato\u2019s _Timaeus_; it is analogous,\nat least in its lower, divided part, to Aristotle\u2019s Nature; and it\nis nearly identical with the informing spirit of Stoicism. As to the\nnumber three, it was held in high esteem long before the Christian\nera, and was likely to be independently employed for the construction\nof different systems at a time when belief in the magical virtue of\nparticular numbers was more widely diffused than at any former period\nof civilised history.\n\nFrom another point of view, as we have already observed with Kirchner,\nthe fundamental triad assumed by Plotinus is body, soul, and spirit.\nUnder their objective aspect of the sensible universe, the world-soul,\nand the Nous, these three principles constitute the sum of all reality.\nTake away plurality from Nous and there remains the One. Take away\nsoul from body and there remains unformed matter. These are the two\ntranscendent principles between which the others extend, and by whose\ncombination in various proportions they are explained. It is true\nthat Plotinus himself does not allude to the possibility of such an\nanalysis, but it exhibits, better than any other, the natural order of\nhis dialectic.\n\nPlotinus passes by an almost insensible transition from the more\nelementary and analytical to the more constructive portion of his\nphilosophy. This naturally falls into two great divisions, the one\nspeculative and the other practical. It has to be shown by what\nnecessity and in what order the great cosmic principles are evolved\nfrom their supreme source; and it has also to be shown in what way\nthis knowledge is connected with the supreme interests of the human\nsoul. The moral aspect of Neo-Platonism is not at first very clearly\ndistinguished from its metaphysical aspect; and both find their most\ngeneral solution in the same line of thought that has led us up to\na contemplation of the ultimate One. For the successive gradations\nof our ascent represent, in an inverted order, the steps of creative\nenergy by which all things are evolved from their primal source; while\nthey directly correspond to the process of purification through which\nevery soul must pass in returning from the exile of her separate and\nmaterial existence to the happiness of identification with God. And\nhere we at once come on the fundamental contradiction of the system.\nWhat we were so carefully taught to consider as one and nothing more,\nmust now be conceived as the first cause and the supreme good. Plotinus\ndoes, indeed, try to evade the difficulty by saying that his absolute\nis only a cause in relation to other things, that it is not so much\ngood as the giver of good, that it is only one in the sense of not\nbeing many.[468] But after making these reservations, he continues to\nuse the old terms as confidently as if they stood for the ideas usually\nassociated with them. His fundamental error was to identify three\ndistinct methods of connecting phenomena, in thought, with each other\nor with ourselves. We may view things in relation to their generating\nantecedents, in relation to other things with which they are associated\nby resemblance or juxtaposition, or in relation to the satisfaction of\nour own wants. These three modes of reference correspond to Aristotle\u2019s\nefficient, formal, and final causes; but the word causation should be\napplied only to the first. Whether their unfortunate confusion both by\nAristotle and by his successors was in any appreciable degree due to\ntheir having been associated by him under a common denomination, may\nreasonably be doubted. It is rather more probable that the same name\nwas given to these different conceptions in consequence of their having\nfirst become partially identified in thought. Social arrangements,\nwhich have a great deal to do with primitive speculation, would\nnaturally lead to such an identification. The king or other chief\nmagistrate stands at the head of the social hierarchy and forms the\nbond of union among its members; he is the source of all authority; and\nhis position, or, failing that, his favour, is regarded as the supreme\ngood. Religion extends the same combination of attributes to her chief\nGod; and philosophy, following on the lines of religion, employs it to\nunify the methods of science and morality.\n\nAll existence, according to Plotinus, proceeds from the One, which\nhe also calls God. But God does not create the world by a conscious\nexercise of power; for, as we have seen, every form of consciousness\nis excluded from his definition. Neither does it proceed from him by\nemanation, for this would imply a diminution of his substance.[469] It\nis produced by an overflow of his infinite power.[470] Our philosopher\ntries to explain and defend this rather unintelligible mode of\nderivation by the analogy of physical substances and their actions.\nLight is constantly coming from the sun without any loss to the\nluminary itself.[471] And all things are, in like manner, constantly\ncommunicating their proper virtue to others while remaining unaltered\nthemselves. Here we have a good example of the close connexion between\nscience and abstract speculation. People often talk as if metaphysics\nwas something beyond the reach of verification. But some metaphysical\ntheories admit, at any rate, of disproof, in so far as they are founded\non false physical theories. Had Plotinus known that neither the sun nor\nanything else in Nature can produce force out of nothing, he would,\nvery probably, have hesitated to credit the One with such a power.\n\nIn reasoning up from the world to its first cause, we were given to\nunderstand that the two were related to one another as contradictory\nopposites. The multiple must proceed from the simple, and existence\nfrom that which does not exist. But the analogies of material\nproduction now suggest a somewhat different view. What every power\ncalls into existence is an image of itself, but the effect is never\nmore than a weakened and imperfect copy of its original. Thus the\nuniverse appears as a series of diminishing energies descending in\na graduated scale from the highest to the lowest. Here, again, bad\nscience makes bad philosophy. Effects are never inferior to their\ncauses, but always exactly equal, the effect being nothing else than\nthe cause in another place or under another form. This would be obvious\nenough, did not superficial observation habitually confound the real\ncause with the sum of its concomitants. What we are accustomed to think\nof as a single cause is, in truth, a whole bundle of causes, which do\nnot always converge to a single point, and each of which, taken singly,\nis, of course, inferior to the whole sum taken together. Thus when\nwe say that the sun heats the earth, this is only a conventional way\nof speaking. What really does the work is a relatively infinitesimal\npart of the solar heat separately transmitted to us through space.\nOnce neglect this truth, and there is no reason why effects should\nnot exceed as well as fall short of their causes in any assignable\nproportion. Such an illusion is, in fact, produced when different\nenergies converge to a point. Here it is the consequent and not the\nantecedent which is confounded with the sum of its concomitants, as\nwhen an explosion is said to be the effect of a spark.\n\nOf course we are speaking of causation as exercised under the\nconditions of time, space, matter, and motion. It is then identical\nwith the transmission of energy and obeys the laws of energy. And\nto talk about causation under any other conditions than these is\nutter nonsense. But Plotinus and other philosophers exclude the most\nessential of the conditions specified from their enquiries into the\nultimate origin of things. We are expressly informed that the genesis\nof Nous from the One, and of Soul from Nous, must not be conceived as\ntaking place in time but in eternity.[472] Unfortunately those who\nmake such reservations are not consistent. They continue to talk about\npower, causation, priority, and so forth, as if these conceptions\nwere separable from time. Hence they have to choose between making\nstatements which are absolutely unintelligible and making statements\nwhich are absolutely untrue.\n\nPerhaps the processes of logic and mathematics may be adduced as an\nexception. It may be contended that the genus is prior to the species,\nthe premise to the conclusion, the unit to the multiple, the line\nto the figure, in reason though not in time. And Plotinus avails\nhimself to the fullest extent of mathematical and logical analogies\nin his transcendental constructions. His One is the starting-point\nof numeration, the centre of a circle, the identity involved in\ndifference; and under each relation it claims an absolute priority, of\nwhich causal power is only the most general expression. We have already\nseen how a multitude of archetypal Ideas spring from the supreme Nous\nas from their fountain-head. Their production is explained, on the\nlines of Plato\u2019s _Sophist_, as a process of dialectical derivation. By\nlogically analysing the conception of self-consciousness, we obtain,\nfirst of all, Nous itself, or Reason, as the subject, and Existence\nas the object of thought. Subject and object, considered as the same\nwith one another, give us Identity; considered as distinct, they\ngive us Difference. The passage from one to the other gives Motion;\nthe limitation of thought to itself gives Rest. The plurality of\ndeterminations so obtained gives number and quantity, their specific\ndifference gives quality, and from these principles everything else\nis derived.[473] It might seem as if, here at least, we had something\nwhich could be called a process of eternal generation\u2014a causal order\nindependent of time. But, in reality, the assumed sequence exists only\nin our minds, and there it takes place under the form of time, not less\ninevitably than do the external re-arrangements of matter and motion.\nThus in logic and mathematics, such terms as priority, antecedence, and\nevolution can only be used to signify the order in which our knowledge\nis acquired; they do not answer to causal relations existing among\nthings in themselves. And apart from these two orders\u2014the objective\norder of dynamical production in space and time, and the subjective\norder of intelligibility in thought\u2014there is no kind of succession that\nwe can conceive. Eternal relations, if they exist at all, must be\nrelations of co-existence, of resemblance, or of difference, continued\nthrough infinite time. Wherever there is antecedence, the consequent\ncan only have existed for a finite time.\n\nSome may think that we have pushed this point at unnecessary length.\nBut the Neo-Platonic method is not quite so obsolete as they, perhaps,\nsuppose. Whenever we repeat the Nicene and Athanasian Creeds, we are\nexpressing our religious belief in the language of the Alexandrian\nschools, thus pledging ourselves to metaphysical dogmas which we can\nneither explain nor defend. Such terms as sonship and procession have\nno meaning except when applied to relations conceived under the form of\ntime; and to predicate eternity of them is to reduce them to so much\nunintelligible jargon.\n\nAn energy continually advancing through successive gradations, and\ndiminishing as it advances\u2014such, as we have seen, is the conception of\nexistence offered by Plotinus. We have seen, also, how to explain the\ngenesis of one principle from another without the aid of supernatural\nvolition or of mechanical causation, he is compelled to press into\nthe service every sort of relationship by which two objects can be\nconnected, and to invest it with a dynamical significance which\nonly the phenomena of matter and motion can possess. But what he\nchiefly relies on for guidance in this tortuous labyrinth of timeless\nevolution, is the old Greek principle that contraries are generated\nfrom one another. And with him, as with the earlier thinkers, all\ncontraries reduce themselves, in the last analysis, to the four great\nantitheses of the One and the Many, Being and not-Being, the Same\nand the Other, Rest and Motion. It matters nothing that he should\nhave followed Plato to the extent of co-ordinating five of these\nterms as supreme archetypal Ideas, immediately resulting from the\nself-consciousness of Nous, and themselves producing all other forms\nof existence. They are used, quite independently of that derivation,\nto explain the connexion of the various creative principles with one\nanother. Nous is deduced from its first cause as Being from not-Being,\nas the Many from the One, as Difference from Identity, and as Motion\nfrom Rest.[474] To explain the generation of Soul from Nous is a\nmore difficult problem. The One had originally been defined as the\nantithetical cause of Nous, and therefore the latter could easily be\naccounted for by simply reversing the analytical process; whereas Nous\nhad not been defined as the cause of Soul, but as the model whence her\ncreative Ideas are derived. Soul, in fact, is not opposed to anything;\nshe is the connecting link between sense and spirit. In this strait,\nPlotinus seems to think that the antithesis between Rest and Motion\nis the best fitted to express the nature of her descent from the\nhigher principle; and on one occasion he illustrates the relation of\nhis three divine substances to one another by the famous figure of a\ncentral point representing the One, a fixed circle round that point\nrepresenting the Nous, and outside that, again, a revolving circle\nrepresenting the Soul.[475] Still, the different parts of the system\nare very awkwardly pieced together at this juncture; for the creative\nenergy of the Nous has already been invoked to account for the Ideas or\npartial intelligences into which it spontaneously divides; and one does\nnot understand how it can be simultaneously applied to the production\nof something that is not an Idea at all.\n\nFresh difficulties arise in explaining the activity which the Soul,\nin her turn, exerts. As originally conceived, her function was\nsufficiently clear. Mediating between two worlds, she transforms the\nlower one into a likeness of the higher, stamping on material objects a\nvisible image of the eternal Ideas revealed to her by a contemplation\nof the Nous. And, as a further elaboration of this scheme, we were\ntold that the primary soul generates an inferior soul, which, again,\nsubdivides itself into the multitude of partial souls required for the\nanimation of different bodily organisms. But now that our philosopher\nhas entered on a synthetic construction of the elements furnished by\nhis preliminary analysis, he finds himself confronted by an entirely\nnew problem. For his implied principle is that each hypostasis must\ngenerate the grade which comes next after it in the descending series\nof manifestations, until the possibilities of existence have been\nexhausted. But in developing and applying the noetic Ideas, the Soul,\napparently, finds a pre-existing Matter ready to hand. Thus she has\nto deal with something lower than herself, which she did not create,\nand which is not created by the Forms combined with it in sensible\nexperience. We hear of a descent from thought to feeling, and from\nfeeling to simple vitality,[476] but in each instance the depth of the\nSoul\u2019s fall is measured by the extent to which she penetrates into the\nrecesses of a substance not clearly related to her nor to anything\nabove her.\n\nPlotinus is driven by this perplexity to reconsider the whole theory\nof Matter.[477] He takes Aristotle\u2019s doctrine as the groundwork of\nhis investigation. According to this, all existence is divided into\nMatter and Form. What we know of things\u2014in other words, the sum of\ntheir differential characteristics\u2014is their Form. Take away this, and\nthe unknowable residuum is their Matter. Again, Matter is the vague\nindeterminate something out of which particular Forms are developed.\nThe two are related as Possibility to Actuality, as the more generic\nto the more specific substance through every grade of classification\nand composition. Thus there are two Matters, the one sensible and\nthe other intelligible. The former constitutes the common substratum\nof bodies, the other the common element of ideas.[478] The general\ndistinction between Matter and Form was originally suggested to\nAristotle by Plato\u2019s remarks on the same subject; but he differs from\nhis master in two important particulars. Plato, in his _Timaeus_, seems\nto identify Matter with space.[479] So far, it is a much more positive\nconception than the \u1f55\u03bb\u03b7 of the _Metaphysics_. On the other hand, he\nconstantly opposes it to reality as something non-existent; and he at\nleast implies that it is opposed to absolute good as a principle of\nabsolute evil.[480] Thus while the Aristotelian world is formed by the\ndevelopment of Power into Actuality, the Platonic world is composed by\nthe union of Being and not-Being, of the Same and the Different, of the\nOne and the Many, of the Limit and the Unlimited, of Good and Evil, in\nvarying proportions with each other.\n\nPlotinus, as we have said, starts with the Aristotelian account of\nMatter; but by a process of dialectical manipulation, he gradually\nbrings it into almost complete agreement with Plato\u2019s conception; thus,\nas usual, mediating between and combining the views of his two great\nauthorities. In the first place, he takes advantage of Aristotle\u2019s\ndistinction between intelligible and sensible Matter, to strip the\nlatter of that positive and vital significance with which it had been\nclothed in the Peripatetic system. In the world of Ideas, there is an\nelement common to all specific forms, a fundamental unity in which they\nmeet and inhere, which may without impropriety be called their Matter.\nBut this Matter is an eternal and divine substance, inseparably united\nwith the fixed forms which it supports, and, therefore, something\nwhich, equally with them, receives light and life and thought from\nthe central source of being. It is otherwise with sensible Matter,\nthe common substance of the corporeal elements. This is, to use the\nenergetic expression of our philosopher, a decorated corpse.[481]\nIt does not remain constantly combined with any form, but is for\never passing from one to another, without manifesting a particular\npreference for any. As such, it is the absolute negation of Form, and\ncan only be conceived, if at all, by thinking away every sensible\nquality. Neither has it any quantity, for quantity means magnitude, and\nmagnitude implies definite figure. Aristotle opposed to each particular\nform a corresponding privation, and placed Matter midway between\nthem. Plotinus, on the other hand, identifies Matter with the general\nprivation of all forms. It is at this point that he begins to work his\nway back to the Platonic notion of Matter as simple extension. There\nmust, after all, be something about Matter which enables it to receive\nevery kind of quality and figure,\u2014it must have some sort of mass or\nbulk, not, indeed, in any definite sense, but with an equal capacity\nfor expansion and for contraction. Now, says Plotinus, the very\nindeterminateness of Matter is precisely the capacity for extension in\nall directions that we require. \u2018Having no principle of stability, but\nbeing borne towards every form, and easily led about in all directions,\nit acquires the nature of a mass.\u2019[482]\n\nHenceforth, whatever our philosopher says about Matter will apply to\nextension and to extension alone. It cannot be apprehended by sight,\nnor by hearing, nor by smell, nor by taste, for it is neither colour,\nnor sound, nor odour, nor juice. Neither can it be touched, for it is\nnot a body, but it becomes corporeal on being blended with sensible\nqualities. And, in a later essay, he describes it as receiving all\nthings and letting them depart again without retaining the slightest\ntrace of their presence.[483] Why then, it may be asked, if Plotinus\nmeant extension, could he not say so at once, and save us all this\ntrouble in hunting out his meaning? There were very good reasons why he\nshould not. In the first place, he wished to express himself, so far as\npossible, in Aristotelian phraseology, and this was incompatible with\nthe reduction of Matter to extension. In the next place, the idea of\nan infinite void had been already appropriated by the Epicureans, to\nwhose system he was bitterly opposed. And, finally, the extension of\nordinary experience had not the absolute generality which was needed\nin order to bring Matter into relation with that ultimate abstraction\nwhence, like everything else, it has now to be derived.\n\nAs a result of the preceding analysis, Plotinus at last identifies\nMatter with the Infinite\u2014not an infinite something, but the Infinite\npure and simple, apart from any subject of which it can be predicated.\nWe started with what seemed a broad distinction between intelligible\nand sensible Matter. That distinction now disappears in a new and more\ncomprehensive conception; and, at the same time, Plotinus begins to see\nhis way towards a restatement of his whole system in clearer terms.\n\u2018The Infinite is generated from the infinity or power or eternity of\nthe One; not that there is infinity in the One, but that it is created\nby the One.\u2019[484] With the first outrush of energy from the primal\nfount of things, Matter begins to exist. But no sooner do movement and\ndifference start into life, than they are restrained and bent back\nby the presence of the One; and this reflection of power or being on\nitself constitutes the supreme self-consciousness of Nous.[485] Whether\nthe subsequent creation of Soul involves a fresh production of energy,\nor whether a portion of the original stream, which was called into\nexistence by the One, escapes from the restraining self-consciousness\nof Nous and continues its onward flow\u2014this Plotinus does not say. What\nhe does say is that Soul stands to Nous in the relation of Matter to\nForm, and is raised to perfection by gazing back on the Ideas contained\nin Nous, just as Nous itself had been perfected by returning to the\nOne.[486] But while the two higher principles remain stationary,\nthe Soul, besides giving birth to a fresh stream of energy, turns\ntowards her own creation and away from the fountain of her life.\nAnd, apparently, it is only by this condescension on her part that\nthe visible world could have been formed.[487] We can explain this\nby supposing that as the stream of Matter departs more and more from\nthe One, its power of self-reflection continually diminishes, and at\nlength ceases altogether. It is thus that the substratum of sensible\nobjects must, as we have seen, be conceived under the aspect of a\npassive recipient for the forms imposed on it by the Soul; and just as\nthose forms are a mere image of the noetic Ideas, so also, Plotinus\ntells us, is their Matter an image of the intelligible Matter which\nexists in the Nous itself; only the image realises the conception of\na material principle more completely than the archetype, because of\nits more negative and indeterminate nature, a diminution of good being\nequivalent to an increase of evil.[488]\n\nStill Plotinus gives no clear answer to the question whence comes this\nlast and lowest Matter. He will not say that it is an emanation from\nthe Soul, nor yet will he say that it is a formless residue of the\nelement out of which she was shaped by a return to the Nous. In truth,\nhe could not make up his mind as to whether the Matter of sensible\nobjects was created at all. He oscillates between unwillingness to\nadmit that absolute evil can come from good, and unwillingness to admit\nthat the two are co-ordinate principles of existence. And, as usual,\nwhere ideas fail him, he helps himself out of the difficulty with\nmetaphors. The Soul must advance, and in order to advance she must make\na place for herself, and that there may be a place there must be body.\nOr, again, while remaining fixed in herself, she sends out a great\nlight, and by the light she sees that there is darkness beyond its\nextreme verge, and moulds its formless substance into shape.[489]\n\nThe ambiguities and uncertainties which Plotinus exhibits in theorising\non the origin of Matter, are due not only to the conflicting influences\nof Plato and Aristotle, but also to another influence quite distinct\nfrom theirs. This is the Stoic cosmology. While utterly repudiating\nthe materialism of the Stoics, Plotinus evidently felt attracted by\ntheir severe monism, and by the consistent manner in which they derived\nevery form of existence from the divine substance. They too recognised\na distinction between Form and Matter, the active and the passive\nprinciple in Nature, but they supposed that the one, besides being\npenetrated and moulded by the other, had also been originally produced\nby it. Such a theory was well suited to the energetic and practical\ncharacter of Stoic morality, with its aversion from mere contemplation,\nits immediate bearing on the concrete interests of life. Man was\nconceived as an intelligent force, having for his proper function to\nbring order out of chaos, \u2018to make reason and the will of God prevail,\u2019\nand this ideal appeared to be reflected in the dynamic constitution of\nNature. With Plotinus, on the other hand, as with Aristotle, theory and\nnot practice was the end of life, or rather, as he himself expressed\nit, practice was an inferior kind of theorising, an endeavour to set\nbefore oneself in outward form what should properly be sought in the\nnoetic world where subject and object are one.[490] Accordingly, while\naccepting the Stoic monism, he strove to bring it into close agreement\nwith Aristotle\u2019s cosmology, by substituting contemplation for will as\nthe creative principle in all existence, no less than as the ideal of\nhappiness for man.\n\nWe have seen how, in accordance with this view, each principle is\nperfected by looking back on its source.[491] Thus the activity of the\nworld-soul, so far as it is exercised for the benefit of what comes\nafter and falls beneath her, is an anomaly only to be accounted for\nby her inferior place in the system of graduated descent; or else by\nthe utter impotence of Matter, which is incapable of raising itself\ninto Form by a spontaneous act of reflection, and can only passively\nreceive the images transmitted to it from above, without being able\nto retain even these for any time. Nay, here also, what looks like\ncreative energy admits of being assimilated more or less closely to an\nexercise of idealising thought. It is really for her own sake that the\nSoul fills what lies beyond her with life and light, not, like Plato\u2019s\nSoul, from pure disinterested joy in the communication and diffusion of\ngood. It is because she recoils with horror from darkness and nonentity\nthat she shapes the formless substance into a residence for herself, on\nthe model of the imperial palace whence she came. Thus the functions of\nsensation, nutrition, and reproduction are to be regarded as so many\nmodes of contemplation. In the first, the Soul dwells on the material\nimages which already exist; in the second and third, she strives to\nperpetuate and multiply them still further. And the danger is that she\nmay become so enthralled by her own creation as to forget the divine\noriginal after which it is formed.[492] Should she yield to the snare,\nsuccessive transmigrations will sink her lower and lower into the\ndepths of animalism and material darkness. To avoid this degradation,\nto energise with the better part of our nature, is to be good. And with\nthe distinction between good and evil, we pass from the metaphysical to\nthe ethical portion of the system.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nAll virtue, with Plotinus, rests on the superiority of the soul\nto the body. So far, he follows the common doctrine of Plato and\nAristotle. But in working out the distinction, he is influenced by the\nindividualising and theoretic philosophy of the latter rather than by\nthe social and practical philosophy of the former. Or, again, we may\nsay that with him the intellectualism of Aristotle is heightened and\nwarmed by the religious aspirations of Plato, strengthened and purified\nby the Stoic passionlessness, the Stoic independence of external\ngoods. In his ethical system, the virtues are arranged in an ascending\nscale. Each grade reproduces the old quadripartite division into\nWisdom, Courage, Temperance and Justice, but in each their respective\nsignificance receives a new interpretation. As civic virtues, they\ncontinue to bear the meaning assigned to them in Plato\u2019s _Republic_.\nWisdom belongs to reason, Courage to passionate spirit, Temperance\nto desire, while Justice implies the fulfilment of its appropriate\nfunction by each.[493] But all this only amounts to the restriction of\nwhat would otherwise be unregulated impulse, the imposition of Form on\nMatter, the supremacy of the soul over the body; whereas what we want\nis to get rid of matter altogether. Here also, Plato sets us on the\nright track when he calls the virtues purifications. From this point\nof view, for the soul to energise alone without any interference, is\nWisdom; not to be moved by the passions of the body is Temperance; not\nto dread separation from the body is Courage; and to obey the guidance\nof reason is Justice.[494] Such a disposition of the soul is what Plato\nmeans by flying from the world and becoming like God. Is this enough?\nNo, it is not. We have, so far, been dealing only with the negative\nconditions of good, not with good itself. The essential thing is not\npurification, but what remains behind when the work of purification\nis accomplished. So we come to the third and highest grade of virtue,\nthe truly divine life, which is a complete conversion to reason. Our\nphilosopher endeavours to fit this also into the framework of the\ncardinal virtues, but not without imposing a serious strain on the\nordinary meaning of words. Of Wisdom nothing need be said, for it\nis the same as rationality. Justice is the self-possession of mind,\nTemperance the inward direction towards reason, Courage the impassivity\narising from resemblance to that which is by nature impassive.[495]\n\nPlotinus is careful to make us understand that his morality has neither\nan ascetic nor a suicidal tendency. Pleasures are to be tolerated\nunder the form of a necessary relief and relaxation; pains are to be\nremoved, but if incurable, they are to be patiently borne; anger is,\nif possible, to be suppressed, and, at any rate, not allowed to exceed\nthe limits of an involuntary movement; fear will not be felt except\nas a salutary warning. The bodily appetites will be restricted to\nnatural wants, and will not be felt by the soul, except, perhaps, as a\ntransient excitement of the imagination.[496] Whatever abstinences our\nphilosopher may have practised on his own account, we find no trace of\na tendency towards self-mortification in his writings, nothing that is\nnot consistent with the healthiest traditions of Greek spiritualism as\noriginally constituted by the great Athenian school.\n\nWhile not absolutely condemning suicide, Plotinus restricts the right\nof leaving this world within much narrower limits than were assigned\nto it by the Stoics. In violently separating herself from the body,\nthe soul, he tells us, is acting under the influence of some evil\npassion, and he intimates that the mischievous effects of this passion\nwill prolong themselves into the new life on which she is destined\nto enter.[497] Translated into more abstract language, his meaning\nprobably is that the feelings which ordinarily prompt to suicide, are\nsuch as would not exist in a well-regulated mind. It is remarkable\nthat Schopenhauer, whose views of life were, on other points, the very\nreverse of those held by Plotinus, should have used very much the same\nargument against self-destruction. According to his theory, the will\nto life, which it should be our principal business to conquer, asserts\nitself strongly in the wish to escape from suffering, and only delays\nthe final moment of peaceful extinction by rushing from one phase of\nexistence to another. And in order to prove the possibility of such a\nrevival, Schopenhauer was obliged to graft on his philosophy a theory\nof metempsychosis, which, but for this necessity, would certainly never\nhave found a place in it at all. In this, as in many other instances,\nan ethical doctrine is apparently deduced from a metaphysical doctrine\nwhich has, in reality, been manufactured for its support. All systems\ndo but present under different formulas a common fund of social\nsentiment. A constantly growing body of public opinion teaches us that\nwe do not belong to ourselves, but to those about us, and that, in\nordinary circumstances, it is no less weak and selfish to run away from\nlife than to run away from death.\n\nPlotinus follows up his essay on the Virtues by an essay on\nDialectic.[498] As a method for attaining perfection, he places\ndialectic above ethics; and, granting that the apprehension of abstract\nideas ranks higher than the performance of social duties, he is quite\nconsistent in so doing. Not much, however, can be made of his few\nremarks on the subject. They seem to be partly meant for a protest\nagainst the Stoic idea that logic is an instrument for acquiring truth\nrather than truth itself, and also against the Stoic use or abuse of\nthe syllogistic method. In modern phraseology, Plotinus seems to view\ndialectic as the immanent and eternal process of life itself, rather\nthan as a collection of rules for drawing correct inferences from true\npropositions, or from propositions assumed to be true. We have seen\nhow he regarded existence in the highest sense as identical with the\nself-thinking of the absolute Nous, and how he attempted to evolve the\nwhole series of archetypal Ideas contained therein from the simple\nfact of self-consciousness. Thus he would naturally identify dialectic\nwith the subjective reproduction of this objective evolution; and here\nhe would always have before his eyes the splendid programme sketched\nin Plato\u2019s _Republic_.[499] His preference of intuitive to discursive\nreasoning has been quoted by Ritter as a symptom of mysticism. But\nhere, as in so many instances, he follows Aristotle, who also held that\nsimple abstraction is a higher operation, and represents a higher order\nof real existence than complex ratiocination.[500]\n\nThe ultimate stage of perfection is, of course, the identification of\nsubject and object, the ascent from the Nous to the One. But, on this\npoint, Plotinus never added anything essential to what has already\nbeen quoted from the analytical portion of his enquiry, and the essay\ncontaining that passage is accordingly placed last in Porphyry\u2019s\narrangement of his works.\n\nOur account of Neo-Platonism has, with the exception of a few\nillustrations, been derived exclusively from the earlier essays of\nPlotinus. His subsequent writings are exceedingly obscure and tedious,\nand they add little by way either of development or defence to the\noutlines which he had sketched with a master\u2019s hand. Whatever materials\nthey may supply for a better appreciation, whether of his philosophy or\nof his general character as a thinker, will most profitably find their\nplace in the final survey of both which we shall now attempt to give.\n\n\nIX.\n\nEvery great system of philosophy may be considered from four distinct\npoints of view. We may ask what is its value as a theory of the world\nand of human life, measured either by the number of new truths which\nit contains, or by the stimulus to new thought which it affords. Or\nwe may consider it from the aesthetic side, as a monumental structure\ninteresting us not by its utility, but by its beauty and grandeur.\nUnder this aspect, a system may be admirable for its completeness,\ncoherence, and symmetry, or for the great intellectual qualities\nexhibited by its architect, although it may be open to fatal objections\nas a habitation for human beings, and may fail to reproduce the plan\non which we now know that the universe is built. Or, again, our\ninterest in the work may be purely historical and psychological; we\nmay look on it as the product of a particular age and a particular\nmind, as summing up for us under their most abstract form the ideas and\naspirations which at any given moment had gained possession of educated\nopinion. Or, finally, we may study it as a link in the evolution of\nthought, as a result of earlier tendencies, and an antecedent of later\ndevelopments. We propose to make a few remarks on the philosophy of\nPlotinus, or, what is the same thing, on Neo-Platonism in general, from\neach of these four points of view.\n\nIn absolute value, Neo-Platonism stands lowest as well as last among\nthe ancient schools of thought. No reader who has followed us thus far\nwill need to be reminded how many valuable ideas were first brought to\nlight, or reinforced with new arguments and illustrations by the early\nGreek thinkers, by the Sophists and Socrates, by Plato and Aristotle,\nby the Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, and by the moralists of the\nRoman empire. On every subject of speculation that can be started, we\ncontinue to ask, like Plotinus himself, what the \u2018blessed ancients\u2019\nhad to say about it;[501] not, of course, because they lived a long\ntime ago, but because they came first, because they said what they had\nto say with the unique charm of original discovery, because they were\nin more direct contact than we are, not, indeed, with the facts, but\nwith the phenomena of Nature and life and thought. It is true that we\nhave nothing more to learn from them, for whatever was sound in their\nteaching has been entirely absorbed into modern thought, and combined\nwith ideas of which they did not dream. But until we come to Hume and\nhis successors, there is nothing in philosophical literature that can\nbe compared to their writings for emancipating and stimulating power;\nand, perhaps, when the thinkers of the last and present centuries have\nbecome as obsolete as Bacon and Descartes are now, those writings will\ncontinue to be studied with unabating zeal. Neo-Platonism, on the other\nhand, is dead, and every attempt made to galvanise it into new life has\nproved a disastrous failure. The world, that is to say the world of\nculture, will not read Plotinus and his successors, will not even read\nthe books that are written about them by scholars of brilliant literary\nability like MM. Vacherot and Jules Simon in France, Steinhart and\nKirchner in Germany.[502]\n\nWe have not far to seek for the cause of this fatal condemnation.\nNeo-Platonism is nothing if not a system, and as a system it is false,\nand not only false but out of relation to every accepted belief. In\ncombining the dialectic of Plato with the metaphysics of Aristotle and\nthe physics of Stoicism, Plotinus has contrived to rob each of whatever\nplausibility it once possessed. The Platonic doctrine of Ideas was an\nattempt to express something very real and important, the distinction\nbetween laws and facts in Nature, between general principles and\nparticular observations in science, between ethical standards and\neveryday practice in life. The eternal Nous of Aristotle represented\nthe upward struggle of Nature through mechanical, chemical, and vital\nmovements to self-conscious thought. The world-soul of Stoicism\nrepresented a return to monism, a protest against the unphilosophical\nantithesis between God and the world, spirit and matter, necessity and\nfree-will. Plotinus attempts to rationalise the Ideas by shutting them\nup in the Aristotelian Nous, with the effect of severing them still\nmore hopelessly from the real world, and, at the same time, making\ntheir subjective origin still more flagrantly apparent than before.\nAnd along with the Stoic conception of a world-soul, he preserves all\nthose superstitious fancies about secret spiritual sympathies and\naffinities connecting the different parts of Nature with one another\nwhich the conception of a transcendent Nous, as originally understood\nby Aristotle, had at least the merit of excluding. Finally, by a\ntremendous wrench of abstraction, the unity of existence is torn away\nfrom existence itself, and the most relative of all conceptions is put\nout of relation to the thought which, in the very same breath, it is\ndeclared to condition, and to the things which it is declared to create.\n\nAgain, on the practical side, by combining Plato with Aristotle and\nboth with Stoicism, Plotinus contrives to eliminate what is most\nvaluable in each. If, in the _Republic_, the Good was placed above all\nexistence, this was only that we might transform existence into its\nimage. If Aristotle placed the theoretical above the ethical virtues,\nhe assigned no limits but those of observation and reasoning to the\nenergising of theoretic power. If the Stoics rested morality on the\nabsolute isolation of the human will, they deduced from this principle\nnot only the inwardness of virtue, but also the individualisation of\nduty, the obligation of beneficence, and the forgiveness of sin. But\nwith Plotinus, Reason has no true object of contemplation outside\nits own abstract ideas, and the self-realisation of Stoicism means a\nbarren consciousness of personal identity, from which every variety of\ninterest and sympathy is excluded: it is not an expansion of our own\nsoul into coincidence with the absolute All, but a concentration of\nboth into a single point, a flight of the alone to the alone;[503] and\nonly in this utter solitude does he suppose that the Platonic Good is\nfinally and wholly possessed.\n\nNor, with a single exception, is the fundamental untruth of the system\nredeemed by any just and original observations on points of detail such\nas lie so thickly scattered over the pages of other metaphysicians,\nboth in ancient and modern literature. The single exception is the\nrefutation of materialism to which attention has been already directed.\nApart from this, the _Enneads_ do not contain one single felicitous or\nsuggestive idea, nothing that can enlarge the horizon of our thoughts,\nnothing that can exalt the purpose of our lives.\n\nIf, however, we pass to the second point of view, and judge\nNeo-Platonism according to the requirements, not of truth or of\nusefulness, but of beauty, our first verdict of utter condemnation will\nbe succeeded by a much more favourable opinion. Plotinus has used the\nmaterials inherited from his predecessors with unquestionable boldness\nand skill; and the constructive power exhibited in the general plan of\nhis vast system is fully equalled by the close reasoning with which\nevery detail is elaborated and fitted into its proper place. Nothing\ncan be imagined more imposing than this wondrous procession of forms\ndefiling from the unknown to the unknown\u2014from the self-developing\nconsciousness of Reason as it breaks and flames and multiplies into\na whole universe of being and life and thought, ever returning, by\nthe very law of their production, to the source whence they have\nsprung\u2014onward and outward on the wings of the cosmic Soul, through\nthis visible world, where they reappear as images of intellectual\nbeauty in the eternal revolutions of the starry spheres above, in the\neverlasting reproduction of organic species below, in the loveliest\nthoughts and actions of the loveliest human souls\u2014till the utmost\nlimits of their propagation and dispersion have been reached, till\nthe last faint rays of existence die out in the dark and void region\nthat extends to infinity beyond. Nothing in the realm of abstractions\ncan be more moving than this Odyssey of the human soul, wakened by\nvisions of earthly loveliness to a consciousness of her true destiny, a\nremembrance of her lost and forgotten home; then abandoning these for\nthe possession of a more spiritual beauty, ascending by the steps of\ndialectic to a contemplation of the archetypal Ideas that lie folded\nand mutually interpenetrated in the bosom of the eternal Reason where\nthought and being are but the double aspect of a single absolute\nreality; seeking farther and higher, beyond the limits of existence\nitself, for a still purer unity, and finding in the awful solitude of\nthat supreme elevation that the central source of all things does not\nlie without but within, that only in returning to self-identity does\nshe return to the One; or, again, descending to the last confines of\nlight and life that she may prolong their radiation into the formless\ndepths of matter, projecting on its darkness an image of the glory\nwhose remembrance still attends her in her fall.\n\nStill more impressive, if we consider the writings of Plotinus on their\npersonal side, and as a revelation of their author\u2019s mind, is the high\nand sustained purity, the absolute detachment and disinterestedness by\nwhich they are characterised throughout. No trace of angry passion,\nno dallying with images of evil, interferes to mar their exalted\nspirituality from first to last. While the western world was passing\nthrough a period of horror and degradation such as had never been known\nbefore, the philosopher took refuge in an ideal sphere, and looked\ndown on it all with no more disturbance to his serenity than if he had\nbeen the spectator of a mimic performance on the stage.[504] This,\nindeed, is one of the reasons why the _Enneads_ are so much less\ninteresting, from a literary point of view, than the works of the Roman\nStoics. It is not only that we fail to find in them any allusions even\nof the faintest kind to contemporary events or to contemporary life\nand manners, such as abound in Seneca and Epict\u00eatus, but there is not\nthe slightest reference to the existence of such a thing as the Roman\nempire at all. One or two political illustrations occur, but they\nare drawn from old Greek city life, and were probably suggested by\nPlato or Aristotle.[505] But this tremendous blank is so perfectly in\nkeeping with the whole spirit of Neo-Platonism as to heighten instead\nof lowering its aesthetic effect. In studying the philosophy of the\npreceding centuries, to whatever school it may belong, we have the\nimage of death always before our eyes; and to fortify us against its\nterrors, we are continually called upon to remember the vanity of life.\nThis is the protest of thought against the world, just as in Lucian and\nSextus we hear the protest of the world against thought. At last the\nwhole bitter strife comes to an end, the vision of sense passes away,\n\n  And leaves us with Plotinus and pure souls.\n\nHere we need no deliverance from troubles and indignities which are\nnot felt; nor do we need to be prepared for death, knowing that we\ncan never die. The world will no longer look askance at us, for we\nhave ceased to concern ourselves about its reformation. No scepticism\ncan shake our convictions, for we have discovered the secret of all\nknowledge through the consciousness of that which is eternal in\nourselves. Thus the world of outward experience has dropped out of our\nthoughts, because thought has orbed into a world of its own.\n\n\nX.\n\nIn the foregoing remarks we have already passed from the purely\naesthetic to the historical or psychological view of Neo-Platonism\u2014that\nis, the view which considers a philosophy in reference to the\ncircumstances of its origin. Every speculative system reflects, more\nor less fully, the spirit of the age in which it was born; and the\nabsence of all allusion to contemporary events does not prove that\nthe system of Plotinus was an exception to this rule. It only proves\nthat the tendency of the age was to carry away men\u2019s thoughts from\npractical to theoretical interests. We have already characterised the\nfirst centuries of Roman imperialism as a period of ever-increasing\nreligious reaction; and in this reaction we attempted to distinguish\nbetween the development of supernaturalist beliefs which were\nnative to Greece and Italy, and the importation of beliefs which had\noriginated in the East. We saw also how philosophy shared in the\ngeneral tendency, how it became theological and spiritualistic instead\nof ethical and naturalistic, how its professors were converted from\nopponents into upholders of the popular belief. Now, according to some\ncritics, Neo-Platonism marks another stage in the gradual substitution\nof faith for reason, of authority for independent thought; the only\nquestion being whether we should interpret it as a product of Oriental\nmysticism, or as a simple sequence of the same movement which had\npreviously led from Cicero to Seneca, from Seneca to Epict\u00eatus, from\nEpict\u00eatus to Marcus Aurelius.\n\nOf these views, the first is taken by Ritter, and adopted with some\nmodifications by M. Vacherot in his _Histoire de l\u2019\u00c9cole d\u2019Alexandrie_.\nIt is also unreservedly accepted by Donaldson in his continuation of\nM\u00fcller\u2019s _History of Greek Literature_, and is probably held at this\nmoment by most Englishmen who take any interest in the subject at all.\nThe second view\u2014according to which Neo-Platonism is, at least in its\nmain features, a characteristic although degenerate product of Greek\nthought\u2014is that maintained by Zeller. As against the Orientalising\ntheory, it seems to us that Zeller has thoroughly proved his case.[506]\nIt may be doubted whether there is a single idea in Plotinus which can\nbe shown to have its exact counterpart in any of the Hindoo or other\nAsiatic systems whence he is supposed to have drawn; and, as our own\nanalysis has abundantly shown, he says nothing that cannot be derived,\neither directly or by a simple and easy process of evolution, from\nPlato, Aristotle, and the Stoics. On the other hand, has not Zeller\ngone much too far in treating Neo-Platonism as a product of the great\nreligious reaction which unquestionably preceded and accompanied its\nappearance? Has he not altogether underrated its importance as a purely\nspeculative system, an effort towards the attainment of absolute truth\nby the simple exercise of human reason? It seems to us that he has, and\nwe shall offer some grounds for venturing to differ from his opinion.\n\nTo appreciate the labours of Plotinus, we must, first of all, compare\nhis whole philosophic method with that of his predecessors. Now, Zeller\nhimself has shown quite clearly that in reach of thought, in power of\nsynthesis, in accuracy of reasoning, not one of these can be compared\nto the founder of Neo-Platonism for a single moment.[507] We may go\nstill further and declare with confidence that no philosopher of equal\nspeculative genius had appeared in Hellas since Chrysippus, or, very\npossibly, since Aristotle. The only ground for disputing his claims to\ntake rank with the great masters of Hellenic thought seems to be that\nhis system culminates on the objective side in something which lies\nbeyond existence, and on the subjective side in a mystical ecstasy\nwhich is the negation of reason. We have shown, however, that if the\nOne is represented as transcending reality, so also is the Idea of Good\nwhich corresponds to it in Plato\u2019s scheme; and that the One is reached\nif not grasped by a process of reasoning which, although unsound, still\noffers itself as reasoning alone, and moves in complete independence of\nany revelation or intuition such as those to which the genuine systems\nof mysticism so freely resort.\n\nIt cannot be too often repeated that the One in no way conflicts\nwith the world of real existence, but, on the contrary, creates and\ncompletes it. Now, within that world, with which alone reason is\nproperly concerned, Plotinus never betrays any want of confidence in\nits power to discover truth; nor, contrary to what Zeller assumes,\ndoes he seem to have been in the least affected by the efforts of the\nlater Sceptics to invalidate its pretensions in this respect.[508]\nTheir criticism was, in fact, chiefly directed against Stoicism, and\ndid not touch the spiritualistic position at all. That there can be no\ncertain knowledge afforded by sensation, or, speaking more generally,\nby the action of an outward object on an inward subject, Plotinus\nhimself fully admits or rather contends.[509] But while distrusting\nthe ability of external perception, taken alone, to establish the\nexistence of an external object by which it is caused, he expressly\nclaims such a power for reason or understanding.[510] For him, as\nfor Aristotle, and probably for Plato also, the mind is one with its\nreal object; in every act of cognition the idea becomes conscious\nof itself. We do not say that Scepticism is powerless against such\na theory as this, but, in point of fact, it was a theory which the\nancient Sceptics had not attacked, and their arguments no more led\nPlotinus to despair of reason, than the similar arguments of Protagoras\nand Gorgias had led Plato and Aristotle to despair of it six centuries\nbefore. If Sextus and his school contributed anything to the great\nphilosophical revolution of the succeeding age, it was by so weakening\nthe materialistic systems as to render them less capable of opposing\nthe spiritualistic revival when it came.\n\nUnquestionably Plotinus was influenced by the supernaturalistic\nmovement of his age, but only as Plato had been influenced by the\nsimilar reaction of his time; and just as the Athenian philosopher\nhad protested against the superstitions which he saw gaining ground,\nso also did the Alexandrian philosopher protest, with far less vigour\nit is true, but still to some extent, against the worse extravagances\nuniversally entertained by his contemporaries. Among these, to judge\nby numerous allusions in his writings, astrology and magic held the\nforemost place. That there was something in both, he did not venture\nto deny, but he constantly endeavours to extenuate their practical\nsignificance and to give a more philosophical interpretation to the\nalleged phenomena on which they were based. Towards the old polytheism,\nhis attitude, without being hostile, is perfectly independent. We can\nsee this even in his life, notwithstanding the religious colouring\nthrown over it by Porphyry. When invited by his disciple Amelius to\njoin in the public worship of the gods, he proudly answered, \u2018It\nis their business to come to me, not mine to go to them.\u2019[511] In\nallegorising the old myths, he handles them with as much freedom\nas Bacon, and evidently with no more belief in their historical\ncharacter.[512] In giving the name of God to his supreme principle, he\nis careful to exclude nearly every attribute associated with divinity\neven in the purest forms of contemporary theology. Personality,\nintelligence, will, and even existence, are expressly denied to the\nOne. Although the first cause and highest good of all things, it is\nso not in a religious but in an abstract, metaphysical sense. The\nNous with its ideal offspring and the world-soul are also spoken of\nas gods; but their personality, if they have any, is of the most\nshadowy description, and there is no reason for thinking that Plotinus\never worshipped them himself or intended them to be worshipped by\nhis disciples. Like Aristotle, he attributes animation and divinity\nto the heavenly bodies, but with such careful provisions against an\nanthropomorphic conception of their nature, that not much devotional\nfeeling is likely to have mingled with the contemplation of their\nsplendour. Finally, we arrive at the daemons, those intermediate\nspirits which play so great a part in the religion of Plutarch and the\nother Platonists of the second century. With regard to these, Plotinus\nrepeats many of the current opinions as if he shared them; but his\nadhesion is of an extremely tepid character; and it may be doubted\nwhether the daemons meant much more for him than for Plato.[513]\n\nThe immortality of the soul is a subject on which idealistic\nphilosophers habitually express themselves in terms of apparently\nstudied ambiguity, and this is especially true of Plotinus. Here, as\nelsewhere, he repeats the opinions and arguments of Plato, but with\ncertain developments which make his adhesion to the popular belief in a\npersonal duration after death considerably more doubtful than was that\nof his master. One great difficulty in the way of Plato\u2019s doctrine, as\ncommonly understood, is that it attributes a permanence to individuals,\nwhich, on the principles of his system, should belong only to general\nideas. Now, at first sight, Plotinus seems to evade this difficulty\nby admitting everlasting ideas of individuals no less than of generic\ntypes.[514] A closer examination, however, shows that this view is even\nmore unfavourable than Plato\u2019s to the hope of personal immortality. For\neither our real self is independent of our empirical consciousness,\nwhich is just what we wish to have preserved, or, as seems more\nprobable, the eternal existence which it enjoys is of an altogether\nideal character, like that which Spinoza also attributed to the human\nsoul, and which, in his philosophy, certainly had nothing to do with a\nprolongation of individual consciousness beyond the grave. As Madame de\nSta\u00ebl observes of a similar view held at one time by Schelling, \u2018cette\nimmortalit\u00e9-l\u00e0 ressemble terriblement \u00e0 la mort.\u2019 And when, in addition\nto his own theory of individual ideas, we find Plotinus adopting\nthe theory of the Stoics, that the whole course of mundane affairs\nperiodically returns to its starting-point and is repeated in the same\norder as before,[515] we cannot help concluding that human immortality\nin the popular sense must have seemed as impossible to him as it did to\nthem. We must, therefore, suppose that the doctrine of metempsychosis\nand future retributions which he unquestionably professes, applies only\nto certain determinate cycles of psychic life; or that it was to him,\nwhat it had probably been to Plato, only a figurative way of expressing\nthe essential unity of all souls, and the transcendent character of\nethical distinctions.[516]\n\nIn this connexion we may deal with the question whether the philosophy\nof Plotinus is properly described as a pantheistic system. Plotinus\nwas certainly not a pantheist in the same sense as Spinoza and Hegel.\nWith him, the One and the All are not identical; although impersonal\nand unconscious, his supreme principle is not immanent in the universe,\nbut transcends and creates it: the totality of things are dependent\non it, but it is independent of them. Even were we to assume that the\nOne is only ideally distinct from the existence which it causes, still\nthe Nous would remain separate from the world-soul, the higher Soul\nfrom Nature, and, within the sphere of Nature herself, Matter would\ncontinue to be perpetually breaking away from Form, free-will would\nbe left in unreconciled hostility to fate. Once, and once only, if we\nremember rightly, does our philosopher rise to the modern conception\nof the universe as an absolute whole whose parts are not caused but\nconstituted by their fundamental unity, and are not really separated\nfrom one another in Nature, but only ideally distinguished in our\nthoughts. And he adds that we cannot keep up this effort of abstraction\nfor long at a time; things escape from us, and return to their original\nunity.[517] With Plotinus himself, however, the contrary was true: what\nhe could not keep up was his grasp on the synthetic unity of things.\nAnd he himself supplies us with a ready explanation why it should be\nso, when he points to the dividing tendency of thought as opposed to\nthe uniting tendency of Nature. What he and the other Hellenic thinkers\nwanted above all, was to make the world clear to themselves and to\ntheir pupils, and this they accomplished by their method of serial\nclassification, by bringing into play what we have often spoken of as\nthe moments of antithesis, mediation, and circumscription, Stoicism\nalso had just touched the pantheistic idea, only to let it go again.\nAfter being nominally identified with the world, the Stoic God was\nrepresented as a designing intelligence, like the Socratic God\u2014an idea\nwholly alien from real pantheism.\n\nIf Plotinus rose above the vulgar superstitions of the West, while,\nat the same time, using their language for the easier expression of\nhis philosophical ideas, there was one more refined superstition of\nmixed Greek and Oriental origin which he denounced with the most\nuncompromising vigour. This was Gnosticism, as taught by Valentinus\nand his school. Towards the close of our last chapter, we gave some\naccount of the theory in question. It was principally as enemies of the\nworld and maligners of its perfection that the Gnostics made themselves\noffensive to the founder of Neo-Platonism. To him, the antithesis of\ngood and evil was represented, not by the opposition of spirit and\nNature, but by the opposition between his ideal principle through all\ndegrees of its perfection, and unformed Matter. Like Plato, he looked\non the existing world as a consummate work of art, an embodiment\nof the archetypal Ideas, a visible presentation of reason. But in\nthe course of his attack on the Gnostics,[518] other points of great\ninterest are raised, showing how profoundly his philosophy differed\nfrom theirs, how entirely he takes his stand on the fixed principles\nof Hellenic thought. Thus he particularly reproaches his opponents for\ntheir systematic disparagement of Plato, to whom, after all, they owe\nwhatever is true and valuable in their metaphysics.[519] He ridicules\ntheir belief in demoniacal possession, with its wholly gratuitous and\nclumsy employment of supernatural agencies to account for what can be\nsufficiently explained by the operation of natural causes.[520] And,\nmore than anything else, he severely censures their detachment of\nreligion from morality. On this last point, some of his remarks are so\nstriking and pertinent that they deserve to be quoted.\n\n Above all, he exclaims, we must not fail to notice what effect this\n doctrine has on the minds of those whom they have persuaded to despise\n the world and all that it contains. Of the two chief methods for\n attaining the supreme good, one has sensual pleasure for its end,\n the other virtue, the effort after which begins and ends with God.\n Epicurus, by his denial of providence, leaves us no choice but to\n pursue the former. But this doctrine [Gnosticism], involving as it\n does a still more insolent denial of divine order and human law,\n laughs to scorn what has always been the accepted ideal of conduct,\n and, in its rage against beauty, abolishes temperance and justice\u2014the\n justice that is associated with natural feeling and perpetuated by\n discipline and reason\u2014along with every other ennobling virtue. So,\n in the absence of true morality, they are given over to pleasure and\n utility and selfish isolation from other men\u2014unless, indeed, their\n nature is better than their principles. They have an ideal that\n nothing here below can satisfy, and so they put off the effort for its\n attainment to a future life, whereas they should begin at once, and\n prove that they are of divine race by fulfilling the duties of their\n present state. For virtue is the condition of every higher aspiration,\n and only to those who disdain sensual enjoyment is it given to\n understand the divine. How far our opponents are from realising this\n is proved by their total neglect of ethical science. They neither\n know what virtue is, nor how many virtues there are, nor what ancient\n philosophy has to teach us on the subject, nor what are the methods of\n moral training, nor how the soul is to be tended and cleansed. They\n tell us to look to God; but merely saying this is useless unless they\n can tell us what the manner of the looking is to be. For it might be\n asked, what is to prevent us from looking to God, while at the same\n time freely indulging our sensual appetites and angry passions. Virtue\n perfected, enlightened, and rooted in the soul, will reveal God to us,\n but without it he will remain an empty name.[521]\n\nEven M. Vacherot, with all his anxiety to discover an Oriental origin\nfor Neo-Platonism, cannot help seeing that this attack on the Gnostics\nwas inspired by an indignant reaction of Greek philosophy against the\ninroads of Oriental superstition, and that the same character belongs\nmore or less to the whole system of its author. But, so far as we\nare aware, Kirchner is the only critic who has fully worked out this\nidea, and exhibited the philosophy of Plotinus in its true character\nas a part of the great classical revival, which after producing the\nliterature of the second century reached its consummation in a return\nto the idealism of Plato and Aristotle.[522]\n\nNeo-Platonism may itself furnish us with no inapt image of the age\nin which it arose. Like the unformed Matter about which we have been\nhearing so much, the consciousness of that period was in itself dark,\nindeterminate and unsteady, uncreative, unspontaneous, unoriginating,\nbut with a receptive capacity which enabled it to seize, reflect, and\ntransmit the power of living Reason, the splendour of eternal thought.\n\n\nXI.\n\nIn fixing the relation of Plotinus to his own age, we have gone far\ntowards fixing his relation to all ages, the place which he occupies\nin the development of philosophy as a connected whole. We have seen\nthat as an attempt to discover the truth of things, his speculations\nare worthless and worse than worthless, since their method no less than\ntheir teaching is false. Nevertheless, Wisdom is justified of all her\nchildren. Without adding anything to the sum of positive knowledge,\nPlotinus produced an effect on men\u2019s thoughts not unworthy of the great\nintellect and pure life which he devoted to the service of philosophy.\nNo other thinker has ever accomplished a revolution so immediate, so\ncomprehensive, and of such prolonged duration. He was the creator of\nNeo-Platonism, and Neo-Platonism simply annihilated every school of\nphilosophy to which it was opposed. For thirteen centuries or more,\nthe three great systems which had so long divided the suffrages of\neducated minds\u2014Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Scepticism\u2014ceased to exist,\nand were allowed to lapse into such complete oblivion that only a few\nfragments of the works in which they were originally embodied have\nbeen preserved. And Plotinus was enabled to do this by the profound\ninsight which led him to strike less at any particular doctrine held\nby his opponents than at the common foundation on which they all\nstood, the materialism openly professed by the Stoics and Epicureans,\nand assumed by the Sceptics as the necessary presupposition of every\ndogmatic philosophy. It is true that the principle which he opposed\nto theirs was not of his own origination, although he stated it more\npowerfully than it had ever been stated before. But to have revived\nthe spiritualism of Plato and Aristotle in such a way as to win for it\nuniversal acceptance, was precisely his greatest merit. It is also the\nonly one that he would have claimed for himself. As we have already\nmentioned, he professed to be nothing more than the disciple of Plato.\nAnd although Aristotelian ideas abound in his writings, still not only\nare they overbalanced by the Platonic element, but Plotinus might\njustly have contended that they also belong, in a sense, to Plato,\nhaving been originally acquired by a simple development from his\nteaching.\n\nWe have said that the founder of Neo-Platonism contrived to blend the\nsystems of his two great authorities in such a manner as to eliminate\nmuch of the relative truth which is contained in each of them taken\nby itself. It has been reserved for modern thought to accomplish the\nprofounder synthesis which has eliminated their errors in combining\ntheir truths. Yet, perhaps, no other system would have satisfied\nthe want of the time so well as that constructed by Plotinus out of\nthe materials at his disposal. Such as it was, that system held its\nground as the reigning philosophy until all independent thinking was\nsuppressed by Justinian, somewhat more than two and a half centuries\nafter its author\u2019s death. Even then it did not become extinct, but\nreappeared in Christian literature, in the writings attributed to\nDionysius the Areopagite, and again in the daring speculations of\nErigena, the father of mediaeval philosophy, to pass under more diluted\nforms into the teaching of the later Schoolmen, until the time arrived\nfor its renewed study in the original sources as an element of the\nPlatonic revival in the fifteenth century. All this popularity proves,\nas we say, that Plotinus suited his own age and other ages which\nreproduced the same general intellectual tendencies. But the important\nthing was that he made Plato and Aristotle more interesting, and thus\nled men to study their writings more eagerly than before. The true\nreign of those philosophers does not begin until we reach the Middle\nAges, and the commanding position which they then enjoyed was due, in\ngreat measure, to the revolution effected by Plotinus.\n\nBut when Neo-Platonism, as a literature and a system, had given way\nto the original authorities from which it was derived, its influence\ndid not, on that account, cease to be felt. In particular, Plotinus\ngave currency to a certain interpretation of Plato\u2019s teaching which\nhas been universally accepted until a comparatively recent period,\nperhaps one may say until the time of Schleiermacher. We have seen how\nmany elements of Platonism he left out of sight; and, thanks to his\nexample, followed as it naturally was by Catholic theologians, the\nworld was content to leave them out of sight as well. The charming\ndisciple of Socrates whom we all know and love\u2014the literary and\ndramatic artist, the brilliant parodist, the sceptical _railleur_ from\nthe shafts of whose irony even his own theories are not safe, the\npenetrating observer of human life, the far-seeing critic and reformer\nof social institutions\u2014is a discovery of modern scholarship. Not as\nsuch did the master of idealism appear to Marsilio Ficino and Michael\nAngelo, to Lady Jane Grey and Cudworth and Henry More, to Berkeley and\nHume and Thomas Taylor, to all the great English poets from Spenser\nto Shelley; not as such does he now appear to popular imagination;\nbut as a mystical enthusiast, a dreamer of dreams which, whether they\nbe realised or not in some far-off sphere, are, at any rate, out of\nrelation to the world of sensuous experience and everyday life. So\nabsolute, indeed, is the reaction from this view that we are in danger\nof rushing to the contrary extreme, of forgetting what elements of\ntruth the Plotinian interpretation contained, and substituting for\nit an interpretation still more one-sided, still more inadequate to\nexpress the scope and splendour of Plato\u2019s thoughts. Plato believed\nin truth and right and purity, believed in them still more profoundly\nthan Plotinus; and his was a more effectual faith precisely because he\ndid not share the sterile optimism of his Alexandrian disciple, but\nworked and watched for the realisation of what, as yet, had never been\nrealised.[523]\n\nFinally, by the form which he gave to Platonism, Plotinus has had\na large share in determining the direction of modern metaphysics.\nAlthough, as we have seen, not, properly speaking, a pantheist himself,\nhe showed how the ideal theory could be transformed into a pantheistic\nsystem, and pantheism it immediately became when the peculiar\nlimitations and subtleties of Greek thought had ceased to dominate\nover the western mind, and when the restraints of Catholic orthodoxy\nhad been removed or relaxed. The stream of tendency in this direction\nruns all through the Middle Ages, and acquires new volume and momentum\nat the Renaissance, until, by a process which will be analysed in the\nnext chapter, it reaches its supreme expansion in the philosophy of\nSpinoza. Then, after a long pause, it is taken up by Kant\u2019s successors,\nand combined with the subjective idealism of modern psychology, finally\npassing, through the intervention of Victor Cousin and Sir William\nHamilton, into the philosophy of Mr. Herbert Spencer.\n\nThe last-named thinker would, no doubt, repudiate the title of\npantheist; and it is certain that, under his treatment, pantheism has\nreverted, by a curious sort of atavism, to something much more nearly\nresembling the original doctrine of the Neo-Platonic school. Mr.\nSpencer tells us that the world is the manifestation of an unknowable\nPower. Plotinus said nearly the same, although not in such absolutely\nself-contradictory terms.[524] Mr. Spencer constantly assumes, by\nspeaking of it in the singular number, that the creative Power of\nwhich we know nothing is one; having, apparently, convinced himself\nof its unity by two methods of reasoning. First, he identifies the\ntranscendent cause of phenomena with the absolute, which is involved\nin our consciousness of relation; leaving it to be inferred that as\nrelativity implies plurality, absoluteness must imply unity. And,\nsecondly, from the mutual convertibility of the physical forces, he\ninfers the unity of that which underlies force. Plotinus also arrives\nat the same result by two lines of argument, one _\u00e0 posteriori_, and\nderived from the unity pervading all Nature; the other _\u00e0 priori_, and\nderived from the fancied dependence of the Many on the One. Even in his\nuse of the predicate Unknowable without a subject, Mr. Spencer has been\nanticipated by Damascius, one of the last Neo-Platonists, who speaks\nof the supreme principle as \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f04\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd.[525] And the same philosopher\nanticipates the late Father Dalgairns in suggesting the very pertinent\nquestion, how, if we know nothing about the Unknowable, we know that it\nis unknowable.\n\nNor is this all. Besides the arguments from relativity and causation,\nMr. Spencer has a third method for arriving at his absolute. He thinks\naway all the determinations imposed by consciousness on its objects,\nand identifies the residual substance with the ultimate reality of\nthings. Now, this residue, as we have seen, exactly corresponds to the\nMatter, whether intelligible or sensible, of Aristotle and Plotinus.\nAs such, it stands in extreme antithesis to the One, and yet there\nis a near kinship between them. Probably, according to Plotinus, and\ncertainly according to Proclus,[526] Matter is a direct product of the\nOne, whose infinite power it reflects. All existence is formed by the\nunion, in varying proportions, of these two principles. Above all, both\nare unknowable. Thus it was natural that in the hands of less subtle\nanalysts than the Greeks they should coalesce into a single substance.\nAnd, as a matter of fact, they have so coalesced in the systems of\nGiordano Bruno, of Spinoza, and finally of Mr. Spencer.\n\nHere we imagine an impatient reader exclaiming, \u2018How can Mr. Herbert\nSpencer, who knows, if possible, even less of Greek philosophy than\nof his own Unknowable, have derived that principle from the Greeks?\u2019\nWell, we have already traced the genealogy by which the two systems of\nagnosticism are connected. And some additional light will be thrown on\nthe question if we consider that the form of Neo-Platonism was largely\ndetermined by the manner in which Plotinus brought the spiritualistic\nconceptualism of Plato and Aristotle into contact with the dynamic\nmaterialism of the Stoics; and that the form of Mr. Spencer\u2019s\nphilosophy has been similarly determined by bringing the idealism of\nmodern German thought into contact with the mechanical evolutionism\nof modern science. Thus, under the influence of old associations, has\npantheism been metamorphosed into a crude agnosticism, which faithfully\nreproduces the likeness of its original ancestors, the Plotinian Matter\nand the Plotinian One.\n\n\nXII.[527]\n\nThe history of Neo-Platonism, subsequently to the death of Plotinus,\ndecomposes itself into several distinct tendencies, pursuing more\nor less divergent lines of direction. First of all, it was drawn\ninto the supernaturalist movement against which it had originally\nbeen, in part at least, a reaction and a protest. One sees from the\nlife of its founder how far his two favourite disciples, Amelius and\nPorphyry, were from sharing his superiority to the superstitions of\nthe age. Both had been educated under Pythagorean influences, which\nwere fostered rather than repressed by the new philosophy. With\nPorphyry, theoretical interests are, to a great extent, superseded\nby practical interests; and, in practice, the religious and ascetic\npredominates over the purely ethical element. Still, however great\nmay have been his aberrations, they never went beyond the limits\nof Hellenic tradition. Although of Syrian extraction, his attitude\ntowards Oriental superstition was one of uncompromising hostility; and\nin writing against Christianity, his criticism of the Old Testament\nseems to have closely resembled that of modern rationalism. But with\nPorphyry\u2019s disciple, Iamblichus, every restraint is thrown aside, the\nwildest Oriental fancies are accepted as articles of belief, and the\nmost senseless devotional practices are inculcated as means towards the\nattainment of a truly spiritual life.\n\nBesides the general religious movement which had long been in action,\nand was daily gaining strength from the increasing barbarisation of\nthe empire, there was, at this juncture, a particular cause tending to\nbring Greek philosophy into close alliance with the mythology which it\nhad formerly rejected and denounced. This was the rapid rise and spread\nof Christianity. St Augustine has said that of all heathen philosophers\nnone came nearer to the Christian faith than the Neo-Platonists.[528]\nNevertheless, it was in them that the old religion found its only\napologists and the new religion its most active assailants. We have\nalready alluded to the elaborate polemic of Porphyry. Half a century\nlater, the same principles could boast of a still more illustrious\nchampion. The emperor Julian was imbued with the doctrines of\nNeo-Platonism, and was won back to the ancient faith by the teaching of\nits professors.\n\nWhat seems to us the reactionary attitude of the spiritualist school\nwas dictated by the circumstances of its origin. A product of the\ngreat classical revival, its cause was necessarily linked with the\ncivilisation of ancient Greece, and of that civilisation the worship\nof the old gods seemed to form an integral element. One need only\nthink of the Italian Renaissance, with its predilection for the old\nmythology, to understand how much stronger and more passionate this\nfeeling must have been among those to whom Greek literature still spoke\nin a living language, whose eyes, wherever they turned, still rested\non the monuments, unrivalled, undesecrated, unfallen, unfaded, of\nGreek religious art. Nor was polytheism what some have imagined it to\nhave been at this period, merely a tradition, an association, a dream,\ndrawing shadowy sustenance from the human works and human thoughts\nwhich it had once inspired. To Plotinus and Proclus, as formerly to\nSocrates and Plato and Aristotle, the luminaries of day and night\nblazed down from heaven as animated and immortal witnesses of its\ntruth. It was not simply that the heavens declared the glory of God; to\nthe pious beholder, they were visibly inhabited by glorious gods, and\ntheir constellated fires were, as Plotinus said, a scripture in which\nthe secrets of destiny might be read. The same philosopher scornfully\nasks the Gnostics, who, in this respect, were indistinguishable from\nthe Christians, whether they were so infatuated as to call the worst\nmen their brothers, while refusing that title to the sun; and at a\nmuch later period, notwithstanding the heavy penalties attached to it,\nthe worship of the heavenly bodies continued to be practised by the\nprofoundest thinkers and scholars of the Neo-Platonic school.[529]\nMoreover, polytheism, by the very weakness and unfixity of its dogmas,\ngave a much wider scope to independent speculation than could be\npermitted within the limits of the Catholic Church, just because\nCatholicism itself constituted a philosophical system in which all\nthe great problems of existence were provided with definite and\nauthoritative solutions.\n\nThe final defeat of polytheism proved, in some respects, an advantage\nto Neo-Platonism, by compelling it to exchange theological controversy\nfor studies which could be prosecuted, at least for a time, without\ngiving umbrage to the dominant religion. At Alexandria the new\nspiritualism was associated, on genuinely Platonic principles, with\nthe teaching of geometry by the noble and ill-fated Hypatia. In\nall the Neo-Platonic schools, whether at Rome, at Alexandria, at\nConstantinople, or at Athens, the writings of Plato and Aristotle were\nattentively studied, and made the subject of numerous commentaries,\nmany of which are still extant. This return to the two great masters\nof idealism was, as we have already said, the most valuable result of\nthe metaphysical revival, and probably contributed more than any other\ncause to the preservation of their works amidst the general wreck of\nancient philosophical literature. Finally, efforts were made to present\nthe doctrine of Plotinus under a more popular or a more scientific\nform, and to develope it into systematic completeness.\n\nDriven by Christian intolerance from every other centre of\ncivilisation, Greek philosophy found a last refuge in Athens, where\nit continued to be taught through the whole of the fifth century and\nthe first quarter of the sixth. During that period, all the tendencies\nalready indicated as characteristic of Neo-Platonism exhibited\nthemselves once more, and contributed in about equal degrees to the\nversatile activity of its last original representative, Proclus\n(410-485). This remarkable man offers one of the most melancholy\nexamples of wasted power to be found in the history of thought. Endowed\nwith an enormous faculty for acquiring knowledge, a rare subtlety in\nthe analysis of ideas, and an unsurpassed genius for their systematic\narrangement, he might, under more favourable auspices, have been the\nLaplace or Cuvier of his age. As it was, his immense energies were\ndevoted to the task of bringing a series of lifeless abstractions into\nharmony with a series of equally lifeless superstitions. A commentator\nboth on Euclid and on Plato, he aspired to present transcendental\ndialectic under the form of mathematical demonstration. In his\n_Institutes of Theology_, he offers proofs equally elaborate and\nfutile of much that had been taken for granted in the philosophy of\nPlotinus. Again, where there seems to be a gap in the system of his\nmaster, he fills it up by inserting new figments of his own. Thus,\nbetween the super-essential One and the absolute Nous, he interposes\na series of henads or unities, answering to the multiplicity of\nintelligences or self-conscious Ideas which Plotinus had placed within\nthe supreme Reason, or to the partial souls which he had placed after\nthe world-soul. In this manner, Proclus, following the usual method of\nGreek thought, supplies a transition from the creative One to the Being\nwhich had hitherto been regarded as its immediate product; while, at\nthe same time, providing a counterpart to the many lesser gods with\nwhich polytheism had surrounded its supreme divinity. Finally, as\nPlotinus had arranged all things on the threefold scheme of a first\nprinciple, a departure from that principle, and a subsequent reunion\nwith it, Proclus divides the whole series of created substances into\na succession of triads, each reproducing, on a small scale, the\nfundamental system of an origin, a departure, and a return. And he\neven multiplies the triads still further by decomposing each separate\nmoment into a secondary process of the same description. For example,\nIntelligence as a whole is divided into Being, Life, and Thought,\nand the first of these, again, into the Limit, the Unlimited, and\nthe absolute Existence (\u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1), which is the synthesis of both. The\nHegelian system is, as is well known, constructed on a similar plan;\nbut while with Hegel the logical evolution is a progress from lower to\nhigher and richer life, with Proclus, as with the whole Neo-Platonic\nschool, and, indeed, with almost every school of Greek thought, each\nstep forward is also a step downward, involving a proportionate loss of\nreality and power.\n\nThus Proclus was to Plotinus what Plotinus himself had been to Plato\nand Aristotle: that is to say, he stood one degree further removed\nfrom the actual truth of things and from the spontaneity of original\nreflection. And what we have said about the philosophic position of the\nmaster may be applied, with some modification, to the claims of his\nmost eminent disciple. From a scientific point of view, the system, of\nProclus is a mere mass of wearisome rubbish; from an aesthetic point\nof view it merits our admiration as the most comprehensive, the most\ncoherent, and the most symmetrical work of the kind that antiquity\nhas to show. It would seem that just as the architectural skill of\nthe Romans survived all their other great gifts, and even continued\nto improve until the very last\u2014the so-called temple of Minerva Medica\nbeing the most technically perfect of all their monuments\u2014so also did\nthe Greek power of concatenating ideas go on developing itself as long\nas Greece was permitted to have any ideas of her own.\n\nThe time arrived when this last liberty was to be taken away. In the\nyear 529, Justinian issued his famous decree prohibiting the public\nteaching of philosophy in Athens, and confiscating the endowments\ndevoted to the maintenance of its professors. It is probable that\nthis measure formed part of a comprehensive scheme for completing\nthe extirpation of paganism throughout the empire. For some two\ncenturies past, the triumph of Christianity had been secured by an\nunsparing exercise of the imperial authority, as the triumph of\nCatholicism over heresy was next to be secured with the aid of the\nFrankish sword. A few years afterwards, the principal representatives\nof the Neo-Platonic school, including the Damascius of whom we have\nalready spoken, and Simplicius, the famous Aristotelian commentator,\nrepaired to the court of Khosru Nuschirvan, the King of Persia,\nwith the intention of settling in his country for the rest of their\nlives. They were soon heartily sick of their adopted home. Khosru was\nunquestionably an enlightened monarch, greatly interested in Hellenic\nculture, and sincerely desirous of diffusing it among his people. It\nis also certain that Agathias, our only authority on this subject,\nwas violently prejudiced against him. But it may very well be, as\nstated by that historian[530] that Khosru by no means came up to the\nexaggerated expectations formed of him by the exiled professors. He\nhad been described to them as the ideal of a Platonic ruler, and,\nlike inexperienced bookmen, they accepted the report in good faith.\nThey found that he cared a great deal more for scientific questions\nabout the cause of the tides and the modifications superinduced on\nplants and animals by transference to a new environment, than about\nthe metaphysics of the One.[531] Moreover, the immorality of Oriental\nsociety and the corruption of Oriental government were something\nfor which they were totally unprepared. Better, they thought, to\ndie at once, so that it were but on Roman soil, than to live on any\nconditions in such a country as Persia. Khosru was most unwilling to\nlose his guests, but on finding that they were determined to leave\nhim, he permitted them to depart, and even made it a matter of express\nstipulation with the imperial government that they should be allowed to\nlive in their old homes without suffering any molestation on account of\ntheir religious opinions.[532]\n\nSimplicius continued to write commentaries on Aristotle after his\nreturn, and was even succeeded by a younger generation of Platonic\nexpositors; but before the end of the sixth century paganism was\nextinct, and Neo-Platonism, as a separate school of philosophy, shared\nits fate. It will be the object of our next and concluding chapter to\nshow that the disappearance of the old religion and the old methods of\nteaching did not involve any real break in the continuity of thought,\nand that modern speculation has been, through the greater part of its\nhistory, a reproduction of Greek ideas in new combinations and under\naltered names.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nGREEK PHILOSOPHY AND MODERN THOUGHT.\n\n\nI.\n\nAdequately to exhibit the relation of Greek philosophy to modern\nthought would require a volume. The object of the present discussion\nis merely to show in what ways that relation has been most clearly\nmanifested, and what assistance it may afford us in solving some\nimportant problems connected with the development of metaphysical and\nmoral speculation.\n\nHistorians often speak as if philosophy took an entirely fresh start\nat different epochs of its existence. One such break is variously\nassociated with Descartes, or Bacon, or some one of their Italian\npredecessors. In like manner, the introduction of Christianity,\ncoupled with the closing of the Athenian schools by Justinian, is\nconsidered, as once was the suppression of the West-Roman Caesarate\nby Odoacer, to mark the beginning of a new r\u00e9gime. But there can be\nno more a real break in the continuity of intellectual than in the\ncontinuity of political history, beyond what sleep or inactivity may\nsimulate in the life of the organic aggregate no less than in the\nlife of the organic individual. In each instance, the thread is taken\nup where it was dropped. If the rest of the world has been advancing\nmeanwhile, new tendencies will come into play, but only by first\nattaching themselves to older lines of movement. Sometimes, again,\nwhat seems to be a revolution is, in truth, the revival or liberation\nof an earlier movement, through the decay or destruction of beliefs\nwhich have hitherto checked its growth. Thus the systems of Plato and\nAristotle, after carrying all before them for a brief period, were\nfound unsuitable, from their vast comprehension and high spirituality,\nto the undeveloped consciousness of their age, and were replaced by\npopularised versions of the sceptical or naturalistic philosophies\nwhich they had endeavoured to suppress. And when these were at length\nleft behind by the forward movement of the human mind, speculative\nreformers spontaneously reverted to the two great Socratic thinkers\nfor a better solution of the problems in debate. After many abortive\nefforts, a teacher appeared possessing sufficient genius to fuse their\nprinciples into a seemingly coherent and comprehensive whole. By\ncombining the Platonic and Aristotelian spiritualism with a dynamic\nelement borrowed from Stoicism, Plotinus did for an age of intellectual\ndecadence what his models had done in vain for an age of intellectual\ngrowth. The relation in which he stood to Stoicism, Epicureanism, and\nScepticism, reproduced the relation in which they stood to the various\nphysical and sophistic schools of their time; but the silent experience\nof six centuries won for him a much more enduring success.\n\nNeo-Platonism was the form under which Greek philosophy passed\ninto Christian teaching; and the transition was effected with less\ndifficulty because Christianity had already absorbed some of its most\nessential elements from the original system of Plato himself. Meanwhile\nthe revival of spiritualism had given an immense impulse to the study\nof the classic writings whence it was drawn; and the more they were\nstudied the more prominently did their antagonism on certain important\nquestions come into view. Hence, no sooner did the two systems between\nwhich Plotinus had established a provisional compromise come out\nvictorious from their struggle with materialism, than they began to\nseparate and draw off into opposing camps. The principal subject of\ndispute was the form under which ideas exist. The conflicting theories\nof Realism and Nominalism are already set forth with perfect clearness\nby Porphyry in his introduction to the _Organon_; and his statement\nof the case, as Victor Cousin has pointed out, gave the signal for a\ncontroversy forming the central interest of Scholasticism during the\nentire period of its duration.\n\nNow, it is a remarkable fact, and one as yet not sufficiently attended\nto, that a metaphysical issue first raised between the Platonists\nand Aristotle, and regarded, at least by the latter, as of supreme\nimportance for philosophy, should have been totally neglected at a time\nwhen abundant documents on both sides were open to consultation, and\ntaken up with passionate eagerness at a time when not more than one or\ntwo dialogues of Plato and two or three tracts of Aristotle continued\nto be read in the western world. Various explanations of this singular\nanomaly may be offered. It may be said, for instance, that after every\nmoral and religious question on which the schools of Athens were\ndivided had been closed by the authoritative ruling of Catholicism,\nnothing remained to quarrel over but points too remote or too obscure\nfor the Church to interfere in their decision; and that these were\naccordingly seized upon as the only field where human intelligence\ncould exercise itself with any approach to freedom. The truth, however,\nseems to be that to take any interest in the controversy between\nRealism and Nominalism, it was first necessary that European thought\nas a whole should rise to a level with the common standpoint of their\nfirst supporters. This revolution was effected by the general adoption\nof a monotheistic faith.\n\nMoreover, the Platonic ideas were something more than figments of an\nimaginative dialectic. They were now beginning to appear in their\ntrue light, and as what Plato had always understood them to be\u2014no\nmere abstractions from experience, but spiritual forces by which\nsensuous reality was to be reconstituted and reformed. The Church\nherself seemed something more than a collection of individuals holding\ncommon convictions and obeying a common discipline; she was, like\nPlato\u2019s own Republic, the visible embodiment of an archetype laid up\nin Heaven.[533] And the Church\u2019s teaching seemed also to assume the\nindependent reality of abstract ideas. Does not the Trinity involve\nbelief in a God distinct from any of the Divine Persons taken alone?\nDo not the Fall, the Incarnation, and the Atonement become more\nintelligible if we imagine an ideal humanity sinning with the first\nAdam and purified by becoming united with the second Adam? Such, at\nleast, seems to have been the dimly conceived metaphysics of St. Paul,\nwhatever may now be the official doctrine of Rome. It was, therefore,\nin order that, during the first half of the Middle Ages, from\nCharlemagne to the Crusades, Realism should have been the prevailing\ndoctrine; the more so because Plato\u2019s _Timaeus_, which was studied in\nthe schools through that entire period, furnishes its readers with\na complete theory of the universe; while only the formal side of\nAristotle\u2019s philosophy is represented by such of his logical treatises\nas were then known to western Christendom.\n\nYet Realism concealed a danger to orthodoxy which was not long\nin making itself felt. Just as the substantiality of individuals\ndisappeared in that of their containing species, so also did every\nsubordinate species tend to vanish in the _summum genus_ of absolute\nBeing. Now such a conclusion was nothing less than full-blown\npantheism; and pantheism was, in fact, the system of the first great\nSchoolman, John Scotus Erigena; while other Realists were only\nprevented from reaching the same goal by the restraint either of\nChristian faith or of ecclesiastical authority. But if they failed to\ndraw the logical consequences of their premises, it was drawn for them\nby others; and Ab\u00e9lard did not fail to twit his opponents with the\nformidable heresy implied in their realistic principles.[534] As yet,\nhowever, the weight of authority inclined towards Plato\u2019s side; and the\npersecution suffered by Ab\u00e9lard himself, as compared with the very mild\ntreatment accorded to his contemporary, Gilbert de la Porr\u00e9e, when each\nwas arraigned on a charge of heresy, shows that while the Nominalism of\nthe one was an aggravation, the Realism of the other was an extenuation\nof his offence.[535]\n\nSo matters stood when the introduction of Aristotle\u2019s entire system\ninto western Europe brought about a revolution comparable to that\neffected two centuries later by the complete recovery of ancient\nliterature. It was through Latin translations from the Arabic,\naccompanied by Arabic commentaries, that the Peripatetic philosophy\nwas first revealed in its entirety; and even Albertus Magnus, living\nin the thirteenth century, seems to have derived his knowledge of the\nsubject from these exclusively. But a few years after the capture\nof Constantinople by the Crusaders in 1204, the Greek manuscripts\nof Aristotle were brought to Paris; and, towards the middle of the\ncentury, a new Latin version was made from these under the supervision\nof St. Thomas Aquinas.[536] The triumph of Aristotle was now, at least\nfor a time, secured. For, while in the first period of the Middle\nAges we find only a single great name, that of Ab\u00e9lard, among the\nNominalists, against a strong array of Realists, in the second period\nthe proportions are reversed, and Realism has only a single worthy\nchampion, Duns Scotus, to pit against Albertus, Aquinas, and William\nof Ockham, each of them representing one of the principal European\nnations.[537] The human intellect, hitherto confined within the narrow\nbounds of logic, now ranged over physics, metaphysics, psychology,\nand ethics; and although all these subjects were studied only at\nsecond-hand, and with very limited opportunities for criticism, still\nthe benefit received must have been immense. The priceless service of\nthe later Schoolmen is to have appropriated and successfully upheld,\nagainst Platonism on the one hand and theological mysticism on the\nother, a philosophy which, however superficial, took in the whole range\nof natural phenomena, derived all knowledge from external observation,\nand set an example of admirable precision in the systematic exposition\nof its results. If no positive addition was made to that vast\nstorehouse of facts and ideas, the blame does not lie with Aristotle\u2019s\nmethod, but with the forcible suppression of free mental activity by\nthe Church, or its diversion to more profitable fields by the study\nof Roman jurisprudence. Even as it was, Aristotle contributed largely\nto the downfall of ecclesiastical authority in two ways: directly by\naccustoming men to use their reason, and indirectly by throwing back\nmysticism on its proper office\u2014the restoration of a purely personal\nreligion.\n\nBut before the dissolving action of Nominalism had become fully\nmanifest, its ascendency was once more challenged; and this time,\nalso, the philosophical impulse came from Constantinople. Greek\nscholars, seeking help in the West, brought with them to Florence the\ncomplete works of Plato; and these were shortly made accessible to a\nwider public through the Latin translation of Ficino. Their influence\nseems at first to have told in favour of mysticism, for this was the\ncontemporary tendency to which they could be most readily affiliated;\nand, besides, in swinging back from Aristotle\u2019s philosophy to the\nrival form of spiritualism, men\u2019s minds naturally reverted, in the\nfirst instance, to what had once linked them together\u2014the system of\nPlotinus. Thus Platonism was studied through an Alexandrian medium,\nand as the Alexandrians had looked at it, that is to say, chiefly\nunder its theological and metaphysical aspects. As such, it became\nthe accepted philosophy of the Renaissance; and much of what we\nmost admire in the literature\u2014at least the English literature\u2014of\nthat period, is directly traceable to Platonic influence. That the\n_Utopia_ of Sir Thomas More was inspired by the _Republic_ and the\n_Critias_ is, of course, obvious; and the great part played by the\nideal theory in Spenser\u2019s _Faery Queen_, though less evident, is\nstill sufficiently clear. As Mr. Green observes in his _History of\nthe English People_ (II., p. 413), \u2018Spenser borrows, in fact, the\ndelicate and refined forms of the Platonic philosophy to express his\nown moral enthusiasm.... Justice, Temperance, Truth are no mere names\nto him, but real existences to which his whole nature clings with a\nrapturous affection.\u2019 Now it deserves observation, as illustrating a\ngreat revolution in European thought, that the relation of Plato to\nthe epic of the English Renaissance is precisely paralleled by the\nrelation of Aristotle to the epic of mediaeval Italy. Dante borrows\nmore than his cosmography from the Stagirite. The successive circles\nof Hell, the spirals of Purgatory, and the spheres of Paradise, are a\nframework in which the characters of the poem are exhibited, not as\nindividual actors whom we trace through a life\u2019s history, but as types\nof a class and representatives of a single mental quality, whether\nvicious or virtuous. In other words, the historical arrangement of\nall previous poems is abandoned in favour of a logical arrangement.\nFor the order of contiguity in time is substituted the order of\nresemblance and difference in idea. How thoroughly Aristotelian,\nindeed, were the lines within which mediaeval imagination moved is\nproved by the possibility of tracing them in a work utterly different\nfrom Dante\u2019s\u2014the _Decameron_ of Boccaccio. The tales constituting this\ncollection are so arranged that each day illustrates some one special\nclass of adventures; only, to make good Aristotle\u2019s principle that\nearthly affairs are not subject to invariable rules, a single departure\nfrom the prescribed subject is allowed in each decade; while during\none entire day the story-tellers are left free to choose a subject at\ntheir own discretion.\n\nNow what distinguishes Spenser from Dante is that, while he also\ndisposes his inventions according to an extremely artificial and\nabstract schematism, with him, as with Plato, abstractions acquire a\nseparate individual existence, being, in fact, embodied as so many\npersons; while Dante, following Aristotle, never separates his from\nthe concrete data of experience. And it may be noted that, in this\nrespect at least, English literature has not deserted the philosophy\nwhich presided over its second birth. It has ever since been more\nprone to realise abstractions than any other literature, whether under\nthe form of allegories, parables, or mere casual illustrations drawn\nfrom material objects. Even at this day, English writers crowd their\npages with dazzling metaphors, which to Continental readers must have\nsometimes a rather barbaric effect.\n\nAnother and profounder characteristic of Plato, as distinguished from\nAristotle, is his thorough-going opposition of reality to appearance;\nhis distrust of sensuous perception, imagination, and opinion; his\ncontinual appeal to a hidden world of absolute truth and justice. We\nfind this profounder principle also grasped and applied to poetical\npurposes in our Elizabethan literature, not only by Spenser, but by\na still greater master\u2014Shakespeare. It is by no means unlikely that\nShakespeare may have looked into a translation of the _Dialogues_; at\nany rate, the intellectual atmosphere he breathed was so saturated\nwith their spirit that he could easily absorb enough of it to inspire\nhim with the theory of existence which alone gives consistency to his\ndramatic work from first to last. For the essence of his comedies\nis that they represent the ordinary world of sensible experience as\na scene of bewilderment and delusion, where there is nothing fixed,\nnothing satisfying, nothing true; as something which, because of its\nvery unreality, is best represented by the drama, but a drama that is\nnot without mysterious intimations of a reality behind the veil. In\nthem we have the\n\n    Fallings from us, vanishings,\n    Blank misgivings of a creature\n    Moving about in worlds not realised;\n\nwhile in his tragedies we have the realisation of those worlds\u2014the\nworkings of an eternal justice which alone remains faithful to one\npurpose through the infinite flux of passion and of sense.\n\nBesides the revival of Platonism, three causes had conspired to\noverthrow the supremacy of Aristotle. The literary Renaissance with\nits adoration for beauty of form was alienated by the barbarous\ndialect of Scholasticism; the mystical theology of Luther saw in it\nan ally both of ecclesiastical authority and of human reason; and the\nnew spirit of passionate revolt against all tradition attacked the\naccepted philosophy in common with every other branch of the official\nuniversity curriculum. Before long, however, a reaction set in. The\ninnovators discredited themselves by an extravagance, an ignorance, a\ncredulity, and an intolerance worse than anything in the teaching which\nthey decried. No sooner was the Reformation organised as a positive\ndoctrine than it fell back for support on the only model of systematic\nthinking at that time to be found. The Humanists were conciliated by\nhaving the original text of Aristotle placed before them; and they\nreadily believed, what was not true, that it contained a wisdom which\nhad eluded mediaeval research. But the great scientific movement of the\nsixteenth century contributed, more than any other impulse, to bring\nabout an Aristotelian reaction. After winning immortal triumphs in\nevery branch of art and literature, the Italian intellect threw itself\nwith equal vigour into the investigation of physical phenomena. Here\nPlato could give little help, whereas Aristotle supplied a methodised\ndescription of the whole field to be explored, and contributions of\nextraordinary value towards the understanding of some, at least, among\nits infinite details. And we may measure the renewed popularity of his\nsystem not only by the fact that Cesalpino, the greatest naturalist of\nthe age, professed himself its adherent, but also by the bitterness of\nthe criticisms directed against it, and the involuntary homage offered\nby rival systems which were little more than meagre excerpts from the\nPeripatetic ontology and logic.\n\n\nII.\n\nOf all testimonies to the restored supremacy of Aristotelianism, there\nis none so remarkable as that afforded by the thinker who, more than\nany other, has enjoyed the credit of its overthrow. To call Francis\nBacon an Aristotelian will seem to most readers a paradox. Such an\nappellation would, however, be much nearer the truth than were the\ntitles formerly bestowed on the author of the _Novum Organum_. The\nnotion, indeed, that he was in any sense the father of modern science\nis rapidly disappearing from the creed of educated persons. Its long\ncontinuance was due to a coalition of literary men who knew nothing\nabout physics and of physicists who knew nothing about philosophy\nor its history. It is certain that the great discoveries made both\nbefore and during Bacon\u2019s lifetime were the starting-point of all\nfuture progress in the same direction. It is equally certain that\nBacon himself had either not heard of those discoveries or that he\npersistently rejected them. But it might still be contended that he\ndivined and formulated the only method by which these and all other\ngreat additions to human knowledge have been made, had not the delusion\nbeen dispelled by recent investigations, more especially those of his\nown editors, Messrs. Ellis and Spedding. Mr. Spedding has shown that\nBacon\u2019s method never was applied to physical science at all. Mr. Ellis\nhas shown that it was incapable of application, being founded on a\ncomplete misconception of the problem to be solved. The facts could in\ntruth, hardly have been other than what they are. Had Bacon succeeded\nin laying down the lines of future investigation, it would have been\na telling argument against his own implied belief that all knowledge\nis derived from experience. For, granting the validity of that belief,\na true theory of discovery can only be reached by an induction from\nthe observed facts of scientific practice, and such facts did not,\nat that time, exist in sufficient numbers to warrant an induction.\nIt would have been still more extraordinary had he furnished a clue\nto the labyrinth of Nature without ever having explored its mazes on\nhis own account. Even as it is, from Bacon\u2019s own point of view the\ncontradiction remains. If ever any system was constructed _\u00e0 priori_\nthe _Instauratio Magna_ was. But there is really no such thing as _\u00e0\npriori_ speculation. Apart from observation, the keenest and boldest\nintellect can do no more than rearrange the materials supplied by\ntradition, or give a higher generalisation to the principles of\nother philosophers. This was precisely what Bacon did. The wealth of\naphoristic wisdom and ingenious illustration scattered through his\nwritings belongs entirely to himself; but his dream of using science as\nan instrument for acquiring unlimited power over Nature is inherited\nfrom the astrologers, alchemists, and magicians of the Middle Ages;\nand his philosophical system, with which alone we are here concerned,\nis partly a modification, partly an extension, of Aristotle\u2019s. An\nexamination of its leading features will at once make this clear.\n\nBacon begins by demanding that throughout the whole range of experience\nnew facts should be collected on the largest scale, in order to supply\nmaterials for scientific generalisation. There can be no doubt that he\nis here guided by the example of Aristotle, and of Aristotle alone.\nSuch a storehouse of materials is still extant in the _History of\nAnimals_, which evidently suggested the use of the word \u2018History\u2019 in\nthis sense to Bacon, and which, by the way, is immensely superior\nto anything that he ever attempted in the same line. The facts on\nwhich Aristotle\u2019s _Politics_ is based were contained in another\nvast descriptive work of the same kind, now unhappily lost. Even\nthe Stagirite\u2019s more systematic treatises comprise a multitude of\nobservations, catalogued according to a certain order, but not reduced\nto scientific principles. What Bacon did was to carry out, or to bid\nothers carry out, the plan so suggested in every department of enquiry.\nBut if we ask by what method he was guided in his survey of the whole\nfield to be explored, how he came by a complete enumeration of the\nsciences, arranged according to their logical order,\u2014the answer is\nstill that he borrowed it from the Peripatetic encyclopaedia.\n\nOne need only compare the catalogue of particular histories subjoined\nto the _Parasceve_,[538] with a table of Aristotle\u2019s works, to\nunderstand how closely Bacon follows in the footsteps of his\npredecessor. We do, indeed, find sundry subjects enumerated on which\nthe elder student had not touched; but they are only such as would\nnaturally suggest themselves to a man of comprehensive intelligence,\ncoming nearly two thousand years after his original; while they are\nmostly of no philosophical value whatever. Bacon\u2019s merit was to bring\nthe distinction between the descriptive sciences and the theoretical\nsciences into clearer consciousness, and to give a view of the former\ncorresponding in completeness to that already obtained of the latter.\n\nThe methodical distinction between the materials for generalisation and\ngeneralisation itself, is derived from the metaphysical distinction\nbetween Matter and Form in Nature.[539] This distinction is the\nnext great feature of Bacon\u2019s philosophy, and it is taken, still\nmore obviously than the first, from Aristotle, the most manifest\nblots of the original being faithfully reproduced in the copy. The\nForms of simple substances were, according to the Stagirite, their\nsensible qualities. The Forms of aggregates were the whole complex\nof their differential characteristics. And although the formal cause\nor idea of a thing was carefully discriminated from its efficient\nand final causes, it was found impossible, in practice, to keep the\nthree from running into one. Again, the distinction between single\nconcepts and the judgments created by putting two concepts together,\nalthough clearly conveyed by the logical distinction between terms and\npropositions, was no sooner perceived than lost sight of, thanks to\nthe unfortunate theory of essential predication. For it was thought\nthat the import of universal propositions consisted either in stating\nthe total concept to which a given mark belonged, or in annexing a\nnew mark to a given concept. Hence, in Aristotle\u2019s system, the study\nof natural law means nothing but the definition and classification\nof natural types; and, in harmony with this idea, the whole universe\nis conceived as an arrangement of concentric spheres, each receiving\nits impulse from that immediately above it. Precisely the same\nconfusion of Form, Cause, and Law reigns throughout Bacon\u2019s theory\nof Nature. We do, indeed, find mention made of _axiomata_ or general\npropositions to a greater extent than in the _Organon_, but they are\nnever clearly distinguished from Forms, nor Forms from functions.[540]\nAnd although efficient and material causes are assigned to physics,\nwhile formal and final causes are reserved for metaphysics\u2014an apparent\nrecognition of the wide difference between the forces which bring a\nthing into existence and the actual conditions of its stability,\u2014this\narrangement is a departure from the letter rather than from the spirit\nof Aristotle\u2019s philosophy. For the efficient causes of the _De\nAugmentis_ answer roughly to the various kinds of motion discussed in\nthe _Physics_ and in the treatise _On Generation and Corruption_; while\nits Forms are, as we have seen, identified with natural causes or laws\nin the most general sense.\n\nAccording to Bacon, the object of science is to analyse the complex of\nForms making up an individual aggregate into its separate constituents;\nthe object of art, to superinduce one or more such Forms on a given\nmaterial. Hence his manner of regarding them differs in one important\nrespect from Aristotle\u2019s. The Greek naturalist was, before all things,\na biologist. His interest lay with the distinguishing characteristics\nof animal species. These are easily discovered by the unassisted\neye; but while they are comparatively superficial, they are also\ncomparatively unalterable. The English experimenter, being primarily\nconcerned with inorganic bodies, whose properties he desired to utilise\nfor industrial purposes, was led to consider the attributes of an\nobject as at once penetrating its inmost texture, and yet capable\nof being separated from it, like heat and colour for instance. But,\nlike every other thinker of the age, if he escapes from the control\nof Aristotle it is only to fall under the dominion of another Greek\nmaster\u2014in this instance, Democritus. Bacon had a great admiration for\nthe Atomists, and although his inveterate Peripatetic proclivities\nprevented him from embracing their theory as a whole, he went along\nwith it so far as to admit the dependence of the secondary on the\nprimary qualities of matter; and on the strength of this he concluded\nthat the way to alter the properties of an object was to alter the\narrangement of its component particles.\n\nThe next step was to create a method for determining the particular\nconfiguration on which any given property of matter depends. If such\na problem could be solved at all, it would be by some new system of\npractical analysis. Bacon did not see this because he was a Schoolman,\nemancipated, indeed, from ecclesiastical authority, but retaining a\nblind faith in the power of logic. Aristotle\u2019s _Organon_ had been the\ngreat storehouse of aids to verbal disputation; it should now be turned\ninto an instrument for the more successful prosecution of physical\nresearches. What definitions were to the one, that Forms should be to\nthe other; and both were to be determined by much the same process.\nNow Aristotle himself had emphatically declared that the concepts out\nof which propositions are constructed were discoverable by induction\nand by induction alone. With him, induction meant comparing a number\nof instances, and abstracting the one circumstance, if any, in which\nthey agreed. When the object is to establish a proposition inductively,\nhe has recourse to a method of elimination, and bids us search for\ninstances which, differing in everything else, agree in the association\nof two particular marks.[541] In the _Topics_ he goes still further\nand supplies us with a variety of tests for ascertaining the relation\nbetween a given predicate and a given subject. Among these, Mill\u2019s\nMethods of Difference, Residues, and Concomitant Variations are very\nclearly stated.[542] But he does not call such modes of reasoning\nInduction. So far as he has any general name for them at all, it is\nDialectic, that is, Syllogism of which the premises are not absolutely\ncertain; and, as a matter of nomenclature, he seems to be right. There\nis, undoubtedly, a process by which we arrive at general conclusions\nfrom the comparison of particular instances; but this process in its\npurity is nothing more nor less than induction by simple enumeration.\nAll other reasoning requires the aid of universal propositions, and\nis therefore, to that extent, deductive. The methods of elimination\nor, as they are now called, of experiment, involve at every step\nthe assumption of general principles duly specified in the chapter\nof Mill\u2019s _Logic_ where they are analysed. And wherever we can rise\nimmediately from, a single instance to a general law, it is because the\nexamination of that single instance has been preceded by a chain of\ndeductive reasoning.\n\nThe confusion of Induction, properly so called, and Elimination under a\nsingle name, is largely due to the bad example set by Bacon. He found\nit stated in the _Analytics_ that all concepts and general propositions\nare established either by syllogism or by induction; and he found some\nvery useful rules laid down in the _Topics_, not answering to what he\nunderstood by the former method; he therefore summarily dubbed them\nwith the name of Induction, which they have kept ever since, to the\nincalculable confusion of thought.\n\nIn working out his theory of logic, the point on which Bacon lays\nmost stress is the use of negative instances. He seems to think that\ntheir application to reasoning is an original discovery of his own.\nBut, on examination, no more seems to be meant by it than that,\nbefore accepting any particular theory, we should consider what\nother explanations of the same fact might conceivably be offered. In\nother words, we should follow the example already set by Aristotle\nand nearly every other Greek philosopher after Socrates. But this is\nnot induction; it is reasoning down from a disjunctive proposition,\ngenerally assumed without any close scrutiny, with the help of sundry\nconditional propositions, until we reach our conclusion by a sort of\nexhaustive process. Either this, that, or the other is the explanation\nof something. But if it were either that or the other, so and so would\nfollow, which is impossible; therefore it must be this. No other\nlogic is possible in the infancy of enquiry; but one great advantage\nof experiment and mathematical analysis is to relieve us from the\nnecessity of employing it.\n\nThe value of experimentation as such had, however, scarcely dawned on\nBacon. His famous Prerogative Instances are, in the main, a guide\nto simple observation, supplemented rather than replaced by direct\ninterference with the phenomena under examination, comparable to that\nmoderate use of the rack which he would have countenanced in criminal\nprocedure. There was, perhaps, a deeper meaning in Harvey\u2019s remark\nthat Bacon wrote about Nature like a Lord Chancellor than the great\nphysiologist himself suspected. To Bacon the statesman, science was\nsomething to be largely endowed out of the public treasury in the sure\nhope that it would far more than repay the expenditure incurred, by\ninventions of priceless advantage to human life. To Bacon the lawyer,\nNature was a person in possession of important secrets to be wrested\nfrom her by employing every artifice of the spy, the detective, the\ncross-examiner, and the inquisitorial judge; to Bacon the courtier,\nshe was a sovereign whose policy might be discovered, and, if need be,\ncontrolled, by paying judicious attention to her humours and caprices.\nAnd, for this very reason, he would feel drawn by a secret affinity\nto the Aristotelian dialectic, derived as it was through Socrates and\nPlato from the practice of the Athenian law-courts and the debates of\nthe Athenian assembly. No doubt the _Topics_ was intended primarily for\na manual of debate rather than of scientific enquiry; and the English\nChancellor showed true philosophic genius in his attempt to utilise it\nfor the latter purpose. Nevertheless the adaptation proved a mistake.\nIt was not without good grounds that the Socratic dialectic had been\nreserved exclusively by its great founder, and almost exclusively\nby his successors, for those human interests from the discussion of\nwhich it was first derived. And the discoverers, who in Bacon\u2019s own\nlifetime were laying the foundations of physical science, employed a\nmethod totally different from his, because they started with a totally\ndifferent conception of the universe. To them it was not a living\nwhole, a Form of Forms, but a sum of forces to be analysed, isolated,\nand recombined, in fact or in idea, with a sublime disregard for the\nconditions under which they were presented to ordinary experience. That\nvery extension of human power anticipated by Bacon came in a manner of\nwhich he had never dreamed. It was gained by studying, not the Forms to\nwhich he attached so much importance, but the modes of motion which he\nhad relegated to a subordinate place in his classification of natural\ncauses.[543]\n\nIt has been said that, whatever may be the value of his logic, Bacon\nrecalled men from the construction of baseless theories to the study\nof facts. But, here also, he merely echoes Aristotle, who said the\nsame thing long before him, with much greater terseness, and with the\nsuperior authority of one who teaches by example as well as by precept;\nwhile the merit of reviving Aristotle\u2019s advice when it had fallen into\noblivion belongs to another Bacon, the author of the _Opus Majus_; the\nmerit of acting on it, to the _savants_ of the Renaissance, to such men\nas Vesalius, Cesalpino, and Tycho Brahe.\n\nBut, towards the close of the sixteenth century, the time for amassing\nobservations was past, no further progress being possible until the\nobservations already recorded were interpreted aright. The just\ninstinct of science perceived this; and for nearly a century after\nCesalpino no addition of any magnitude was made to what Bacon called\n\u2018History,\u2019 while men\u2019s conceptions of natural law were undergoing a\nradical transformation.[544] To choose such a time for developing the\nAristotelian philosophy was peculiarly unfortunate; for that philosophy\nhad become, both on its good and on its bad side, an obstacle to\nprogress, by encouraging studies which were not wanted, and by\nfostering a spirit of opposition to the Copernican astronomy.\n\nThe mere fact that Aristotle himself had pronounced in favour of the\ngeocentric system did not count for much. The misfortune was that he\nhad constructed an entire physical philosophy in harmony with it; that\nhe had linked this to his metaphysics; and that the sensible experience\non whose authority he laid so much stress, seemed to testify in its\nbehalf. The consequence was that those thinkers who, without being\nprofessed Aristotelian partisans, still remained profoundly affected\nby the Peripatetic spirit, could not see their way to accepting a\ntheory with which all the hopes of intellectual progress were bound\nup. These considerations will enable us to understand the attitude of\nBacon towards the new astronomy; while, conversely, his position in\nthis respect will serve to confirm the view of his character set forth\nin the preceding pages. The theory, shared by him with Aristotle, that\nNature is throughout composed of Form and Matter reached its climax in\nthe supposition that the great elementary bodies are massed together in\na series of concentric spheres disposed according to some principle of\ngraduation, symmetry, or contrast; and this seemed incompatible with\nany but a geocentric arrangement. It is true that Bacon quarrelled\nwith the particular system maintained by Aristotle, and, under the\nguidance of Telesio, fell back on a much cruder form of cosmography;\nbut his mind still remained dominated by the fancied necessity of\nconceiving the universe under the form of a stratified sphere; and\nthose who persist in looking on him as the apostle of experience will\nbe surprised to find that he treated the subject entirely from an _\u00e0\npriori_ point of view. The truth is that Bacon exemplified, in his own\nintellectual character, every one of the fundamental fallacies which he\nhas so picturesquely described. The unwillingness to analyse sensible\nappearances into their ideal elements was his Idol of the Tribe; the\nthirst for material utilities was his Idol of the Den: the uncritical\nacceptance of Aristotle\u2019s metaphysics, his Idol of the Theatre; and the\nundefined notions associated with induction, his Idol of the Market.\n\n\nIII.\n\nWe may consider it a fortunate circumstance that the philosophy of\nForm,\u2014that is to say, of description, definition, classification,\nand sensuous perception, as distinguished from mathematical analysis\nand deductive reasoning,\u2014was associated with a demonstrably false\ncosmology, as it thus became much more thoroughly discredited than\nwould otherwise have been possible. At this juncture, the first to\nperceive and point out how profoundly an acceptance of the Copernican\ntheory must affect men\u2019s beliefs about Nature and the whole universe,\nwas Giordano Bruno; and this alone would entitle him to a great place\nin the history of philosophy. The conception of a single finite world\nsurrounded by a series of eternal and unchangeable crystal spheres\nmust, he said, be exchanged for the conception of infinite worlds\ndispersed through illimitable space. Once grant that the earth has a\ndouble movement round its own axis and round the sun, and Aristotle\u2019s\nwhole system of finite existence collapses at once, leaving the ground\nclear for an entirely different order of ideas.[545] But, in this\nrespect, whatever was established by the new science had already been\ndivined by a still older philosophy than Aristotle\u2019s, as Bruno himself\ngladly acknowledged,[546] and the immediate effect of his reasoning was\nto revive the Atomic theory. The assumption of infinite space, formerly\nconsidered an insuperable objection to that theory, now became one of\nits chief recommendations; the arguments of Lucretius regained their\nfull force, while his fallacies were let drop; Atomism seemed not only\npossible but necessary; and the materialism once associated with it was\nequally revived. But Aristotelianism, as we have seen, was not alone\nin the field, and on the first symptoms of a successful revolt, its\nold rival stood in readiness to seize the vacant throne. The question\nwas how far its claim would be supported, and how far disputed by\nthe new invaders. It might be supposed that the older forms of Greek\nphilosophy, thus restored to light after an eclipse of more than a\nthousand years, would be no less hostile to the poetic Platonism than\nto the scientific Aristotelianism of the Renaissance. Such, however,\nwas not the case; and we have to show how an alliance was established\nbetween these apparently opposite lines of thought, eventually giving\nbirth to the highest speculation of the following century.\n\nBruno himself acted as a mediator between the two philosophies. His\nsympathies with Platonism were strongly pronounced, he looked with\nadmiration on its mediaeval supporters, especially David of Dinan;\nand regretted the time when Oxford was a focus of realistic teaching,\ninstead of being what he found her, devoted to the pedantic humanism\nof the Renaissance.[547] He fully accepted the pantheistic conclusions\ntowards which Platonism always tended; but in proclaiming an absolute\nprinciple whence all specific differences are evolved, he is careful to\nshow that, while it is neither Form nor Matter in the ordinary sense,\nit may be called Matter in the more refined signification attached to\nthat term by Plotinus and, indeed, by Aristotle himself. There is a\ncommon substance underlying all abstract essences, just as there is a\ncommon substance left behind when the sensible qualities of different\nbodies are stripped off; and both are, at bottom, the same. Thus monism\nbecame the banner round which the older forms of Greek speculation\nrallied in their assault on Aristotle\u2019s philosophy, though what monism\nimplied was as yet very imperfectly understood.\n\nMeanwhile a new and powerful agency was about to interpose with\ndecisive effect in the doubtful struggle. This was the study of\nmathematics. Revived by the Arabians and never wholly neglected\nduring the Middle Ages, it had profited by the general movement of\nthe Renaissance, and was finally applied to the cosmical problem by\nGalileo. In this connexion, two points of profound philosophical\ninterest must be noted. The first is that, even in its fall, the\nAristotelian influence survived, to some extent, both for good and\nfor evil. To Aristotle belongs the merit of having been the first\nto base astronomy on physics. He maintains the earth\u2019s immobility\non experimental no less than on speculative grounds. A stone thrown\nstraight up in the air returns to its starting-point instead of falling\nto the west of it; and the absence of stellar parallax seems to show\nthat there is no change in our position relatively to the heavenly\nbodies. After satisfying himself, on empirical considerations, that the\npopular astronomy is true, he proceeds to show that it must be true,\nby considerations on the nature of matter and motion, which, although\nmistaken, are conceived in a genuinely scientific spirit. Now Galileo\nsaw that, to establish the Copernican system, he must first grapple\nwith the Peripatetic physics, and replace it by a new dynamical theory.\nThis, which he could hardly have effected by the ordinary mathematical\nmethods, he did by borrowing the analytical method of Atomism and\napplying it to the measurement of motion. The law of falling bodies\nwas ascertained by resolving their descent into a series of moments,\nand determining its rate of velocity at successive intervals; and\ncurvilinear motions were similarly resolved into the combination of an\nimpulsive with an accelerating force, a method diametrically opposed\nto that of Bacon, who would not even accept the rough analysis of the\napparent celestial motions proposed by Greek astronomers.\n\nIt seems strange that Galileo, having gone so far, did not go a step\nfurther, and perceive that the planetary orbits, being curvilinear,\nmust result from the combination of a centripetal with a tangential\nforce. But the truth is that he never seems to have grasped his own\nlaw of inertia in its full generality. He understood that the planets\ncould not have been set in motion without a rectilinear impulse; but\nhis idea was that this impulse continued only so long as was necessary\nin order to give them their present velocity, instead of acting on\nthem for ever as a tangential force. The explanation of this strange\ninconsequence must be sought in a survival of Aristotelian conceptions,\nin the persistent belief that rectilinear motion was necessarily\nlimited and temporary, while circular motion was natural, perfect, and\neternal.[548] Now such conceptions as Nature, perfection, and eternity\nalways rebel against an analysis of the phenomena wherein they are\nsupposed to reside. The same prejudice will explain why Galileo should\nhave so persistently ignored Kepler\u2019s Laws, for we can hardly imagine\nthat they were not brought under his notice.\n\nThe philosophical affinities of the new science were not exhausted\nby the atomistic analysis of Democritus and the regulative method of\nAristotle. Platonism could hardly fail to benefit by the great impulse\ngiven to mathematical studies in the latter half of the sixteenth\ncentury. The passionate love of its founder for geometry must have\nrecommended him as much to the most advanced minds of the period as\nhis religious mysticism had recommended him to the theologians of the\nearlier Renaissance. And the increasing ascendency of the heliocentric\nastronomy, with its splendid defiance of sense and opinion, was\nindirectly a triumph for the philosophy which, more than any other, had\nasserted the claims of pure reason against both. We see this distinctly\nin Galileo. In express adhesion to Platonism, he throws his teaching\ninto a conversational form, endeavouring to extract the truth from his\nopponents rather than convey it into their minds from without; and the\ntheory of reminiscence as the source of demonstrative knowledge seems\nto meet with his approval.[549] He is always ready with proofs drawn\nfrom observation and experiment; but nothing can be more in Plato\u2019s\nspirit, nothing more unlike Aristotle and Bacon, than his encomium on\nthe sublime genius of Aristarchus and Copernicus for having maintained\na rational hypothesis against what seemed to be the evidence of their\nsenses.[550] And he elsewhere observes how much less would have been\nthe glory of Copernicus had he known the experimental verification of\nhis theory.[551]\n\nThe Platonic influence told even more efficaciously on Galileo\u2019s\nstill greater contemporary, Kepler. With him as with the author of\nthe _Republic_, mysticism took the direction of seeking everywhere\nfor evidence of mathematical proportions. With what brilliant success\nthe search was attended, it is needless to relate. What interests us\nhere is the fact, vouched for by Arago, that the German astronomer was\nguided by an idea of Plato\u2019s, that the world must have been created on\ngeometrical principles.[552] Had Bacon known anything about the work on\nwhich his adventurous contemporary was engaged, we may be sure that it\nwould have afforded him another illustration for his Id\u00f4la, the only\ndifficulty being whether it should be referred to the illusions of the\nTribe, the Den, or the Theatre.\n\nMeanwhile Atomism continued to exercise a powerful influence on the\nmethod even more than on the doctrines of science. The analytical\nmode of treatment, applied by Galileo to dynamics, was applied, with\nequal success, by other mathematicians, to the study of discrete and\ncontinuous quantity. It is to the division of numbers and figures into\ninfinitesimal parts\u2014a direct contravention of Aristotle\u2019s teaching\u2014that\nwe owe logarithms, algebraic geometry, and the differential calculus.\nThus was established a connexion between spiritualism and materialism,\nthe philosophy of Plato and the philosophy of Democritus. Out of these\nelements, together with what still survived of Aristotelianism, was\nconstructed the system of Descartes.\n\n\nIV.\n\nTo understand Descartes aright, we must provisionally disregard the\naccount given in his work on Method of the process by which he arrived\nat a new theory of the world; for, in truth, there was nothing new\nabout it except the proportion in which fragments taken from older\nsystems were selected and recombined. As we have already noticed,\nthere is no such thing as spinning philosophies out of one\u2019s own head;\nand, in the case of Descartes, even the belief that he was so doing\ncame to him from Plato; for, along with Aristotle\u2019s dogmatic errors,\nhis sound teaching with regard to the derivation of knowledge had\nfallen into oblivion. The initial doubt of the _Discourse on Method_\nand the _Meditations_ is also Platonic; only it is manifested under\nan individual and subjective, instead of a universal and objective\nform. But to find the real starting-point of Descartes\u2019 enquiries we\nmust look for it in his mathematical studies. A geometrician naturally\nconceives the visible world under the aspect of figured extension; and\nif he thinks the figures away, nothing will remain but extension as\nthe ultimate material out of which all determinate bodies are shaped.\nSuch was the result reached by Plato in his _Timaeus_. He identified\nmatter with space, viewing this as the receptacle for his eternal\nand self-existent Ideas, or rather the plastic medium on which their\nimages are impressed. The simplest spatial elements are triangles;\naccordingly it is with these that he constructs his solid bodies.\nThe theory of triangular elements was probably suggested by Atomism;\nit is, in fact, a compromise between the purely mathematical and\nthe materialistic methods. Like all Plato\u2019s fancies, this theory of\nmatter was attacked with such convincing arguments by Aristotle that,\nso long as his physics remained in the ascendent, it did not find a\nsingle supporter; although, as we saw in the last chapter, Plotinus\nvery nearly worked his way back to it from the Peripatetic definition.\nEven now, at the moment of Aristotle\u2019s fall, it might have failed to\nattract attention, had not the conditions under which it first arose\nbeen almost exactly repeated. Geometrical demonstration had again\nbecome the type of all reasoning; there was again a sceptical spirit\nabroad, forcing men to fall back on the most elementary and universal\nconceptions; an atomistic materialism again threatened to claim at\nleast the whole field of physical enquiry for its own. That Descartes\nfollowed the _Timaeus_ in identifying matter with extension cannot be\ndoubted; especially when we see that he adopts Plato\u2019s analysis of\nbody into elementary triangles; but the theory agreed so well with his\nintellectual predispositions that he may easily have imagined it to be\na necessary deduction from his own _\u00e0 priori_ ideas. Moreover, after\nthe first two steps, he parts company with Plato, and gives himself\nup, so far as his rejection of a vacuum will permit, to the mechanical\nphysics of Democritus. Much praise has recently been bestowed on his\nattempt to interpret all physical phenomena in terms of matter and\nmotion, and to deduce them from the unaided operation of natural\ncauses; but this is no more than had been done by the early Greek\nthinkers, from whom, we may observe, his hypothesis of an initial\nvortex was also derived. His cosmogony is better than theirs, only in\nso far as it is adapted to scientific discoveries in astronomy and\nphysiology not made by Descartes himself; for where his conjectures go\nbeyond these they are entirely at fault.\n\nDescartes\u2019 theory of the universe included, however, something more\nthan extension (or matter) and motion. This was Thought. If we ask\nwhence came the notion of Thought, our philosopher will answer that\nit was obtained by looking into himself. It was, in reality, obtained\nby looking into Aristotle, or into some text-book reproducing his\nmetaphysics. But the Platonic element in his system enabled Descartes\nto isolate Thought much more completely than it had been isolated by\nAristotle. To understand this, we must turn once more to the _Timaeus_.\nPlato made up his universe from space and Ideas. But the Ideas were too\nvague or too unintelligible for scientific purposes. Even mediaeval\nRealists were content to replace them by Aristotle\u2019s much clearer\ndoctrine of Forms. On the other hand, Aristotle\u2019s First Matter was\nanything but a satisfactory conception. It was a mere abstraction;\nthe unknowable residuum left behind when bodies were stripped,\nin imagination, of all their sensible and cogitable qualities. In\nother words, there was no Matter actually existing without Form;\nwhereas Form was never so truly itself, never so absolutely existent,\nas when completely separated from Matter: it then became simple\nself-consciousness, as in God, or in the reasonable part of the human\nsoul. The revolution wrought by substituting space for Aristotle\u2019s\nFirst Matter will now become apparent. Corporeal substance could at\nonce be conceived as existing without the co-operation of Form; and\nat the same stroke, Form, liberated from its material bonds, sprang\nback into the subjective sphere, to live henceforward only as pure\nself-conscious thought.\n\nThis absolute separation of Form and Matter, under their new names of\nThought and Extension, once grasped, various principles of Cartesianism\nwill follow from it by logical necessity. First comes the exclusion of\nfinal causes from philosophy, or rather from Nature. There was not,\nas with Epicurus, any anti-theological feeling concerned in their\nrejection. With Aristotle, against whom Descartes is always protesting,\nthe final cause was not a mark of designing intelligence imposed on\nMatter from without; it was only a particular aspect of Form, the\nrealisation of what Matter was always striving after by virtue of its\ninherent potentiality. When Form was conceived only as pure thought,\nthere could be no question of such a process; the most highly organised\nbodies being only modes of figured extension. The revival of Atomism\nhad, no doubt, a great deal to do with the preference for a mechanical\ninterpretation of life. Aristotle had himself shown with masterly\nclearness the difference between his view of Nature and that taken\nby Democritus; thus indicating beforehand the direction in which an\nalternative to his own teaching might be sought; and Bacon had, in\nfact, already referred with approval to the example set by Democritus\nin dealing with teleological enquiries.\n\nNevertheless Bacon\u2019s own attitude towards final causes differs\nessentially from Descartes\u2019. The French mathematician, had he\nspoken his whole mind, would probably have denied their existence\naltogether. The English reformer fully admits their reality, as, with\nhis Aristotelian theory of Forms, he could hardly avoid doing; and\nwe find that he actually associates the study of final with that of\nformal causes, assigning both to metaphysics as its peculiar province.\nThis being so, his comparative neglect of the former is most easily\nexplained by the famous comparison of teleological enquiries to vestal\nvirgins, dedicated to the service of God and bearing no offspring; for\nMr. Ellis has made it perfectly clear that the barrenness alluded to is\nnot scientific but industrial. Our knowledge is extended when we trace\nthe workings of a divine purpose in Nature; but this is not a kind of\nknowledge which bears fruit in useful mechanical inventions.[553] Bacon\nprobably felt that men would not be very forward to improve on Nature\nif they believed in the perfection of her works and in their beneficent\nadaptation to our wants. The teleological spirit was as strong with\nhim as with Aristotle, but it took a different direction. Instead of\nstudying the adaptation of means to ends where it already existed, he\nwished men to create it for themselves. But the utilitarian tendency,\nwhich predominated with Bacon, was quite exceptional with Descartes.\nSpeaking generally, he desired knowledge for its own sake, not as an\ninstrument for the gratification of other wants; and this intellectual\ndisinterestedness was, perhaps, another aspect of the severance\neffected between thought and matter.\n\nThe celebrated Cartesian paradox, that animals are unconscious\nautomata, is another consequence of the same principle. In Aristotle\u2019s\nphilosophy, the doctrine of potentiality developing itself into\nact through a series of ascending manifestations, supplied a link\nconnecting the highest rational with the lowest vegetal life. The\nidentification of Form with pure thought put an end to the conception\nof any such intermediate gradations. Brutes must either have a mind\nlike ours or none at all. The former alternative was not even taken\ninto consideration; probably, among other reasons, because it was not\neasily reconcilable with Christianity; so that nothing remained but to\ndeny sensibility where thought was believed not to exist.\n\nFinally, in man himself, thought is not distinguished from feeling;\nit is, in fact, the essence of mind, just as extension is the essence\nof body; and all spiritual phenomena are modes of thought in the\nsame sense that all physical phenomena are modes of space. It was,\nthen, rather a happy chance than genuine physiological insight which\nled Descartes to make brain the organ of feeling no less than of\nintellection; a view, as Prof. Huxley has observed, much in advance\nof that held by Bichat a hundred and fifty years later. For whoever\ndeduced all the mental manifestations from a common essence was\nbound in consistency to locate them in the same bodily organ; what\nthe metaphysician had joined the physiologist could not possibly put\nasunder.\n\nWe are now in a position to understand the full force of Descartes\u2019\n_Cogito ergo sum_. It expresses the substantiality of self-conscious\nForm, the equal claim of thought with extension to be recognised as an\nelement of the universe. This recognition of self-consciousness as the\nsurest reality was, indeed, far from being new. The Greek Sceptics had\nnever gone to the length of doubting their own personal existence. On\nthe contrary, they professed a sort of subjective idealism. Refusing\nto go beyond their own consciousness, they found in its undisturbed\nself-possession the only absolute satisfaction that life could afford.\nBut knowledge and reality had become so intimately associated with\nsomething independent of mind, and mind itself with a mere reflection\nof reality, that the denial of an external world seemed to the vulgar\na denial of existence itself. And although Aristotle had found the\nhighest, if not the sole absolute actuality in self-thinking thought,\nhe projected it to such a distance from human personality that its\nbearing on the sceptical controversy had passed unperceived. Descartes\nbegan his demonstration at the point where all the ancient systems had\nconverged, but failed to discover in what direction the conditions of\nthe problem required that they should be prolonged. No mistake can\nbe greater than to regard him as the precursor of German philosophy.\nThe latter originated quite independently of his teaching, though\nnot perhaps of his example, in the combination of a much profounder\nscepticism with a much wider knowledge of dogmatic metaphysics. His\nmethod is the very reverse of true idealism. The _Cogito ergo sum_ is\nnot a taking up of existence into thought, but rather a conversion of\nthought into one particular type of existence. Now, as we have seen,\nall other existence was conceived as extension, and however carefully\nthought might be distinguished from this as absolutely indivisible,\nit was speedily reduced to the same general pattern of inclusion,\nlimitation, and expansion. Whereas Kant, Fichte, and Hegel afterwards\ndwelt on the form of thought, Descartes attended only to its content,\nor to that in which it was contained. In other words, he began by\nconsidering not _how_ he thought but _what_ he thought and _whence_\nit came\u2014his ideas and their supposed derivation from a higher sphere.\nTake, for example, his two great methods for proving the existence\nof God. We have in our minds the idea of a perfect being\u2014at least\nDescartes professed to have such an idea in his mind,\u2014and we, as\nimperfect beings, could not have originated it for ourselves. It must,\ntherefore, have been placed there by a perfect being acting on us from\nwithout. It is here taken for granted that the mechanical equivalence\nbetween material effects and their causes must obtain in a world where\nspatial relations, and therefore measurement, are presumably unknown.\nAnd, secondly, existence, as a perfection, is involved in the idea\nof a perfect being; therefore such a being can only be conceived as\nexisting. Here there seems to be a confused notion that because the\nproperties of a geometrical figure can be deduced from its definition,\ntherefore the existence of something more than a simple idea can be\ndeduced from the definition of that idea itself. But besides the\nmathematical influence, there was evidently a Platonic influence at\nwork; and one is reminded of Plato\u2019s argument that the soul cannot\ndie because it participates in the idea of life. Such fallacies were\nimpossible so long as Aristotle\u2019s logic continued to be carefully\nstudied, and they gradually disappeared with its revival. Meanwhile the\ncat was away, and the mice used their opportunity.\n\nThat the absolute disjunction of thought from matter involved the\nimpossibility of their interaction, was a consequence not drawn by\nDescartes himself, but by his immediate followers. Here also, Greek\nphilosophy played its part in hastening the development of modern\nideas. The fall of Aristotle had incidentally the effect of reviving\nnot only the systems which preceded, but also those which followed his.\nChief among these were Stoicism and Epicureanism. Differing widely in\nmost other respects, they agreed in teaching that body is acted on\nby body alone. The Cartesians accepted this principle to the fullest\nextent so far as human perceptions and volitions were concerned; and\nto a great extent in dealing with the problems of physical science.\nBut instead of arguing from the laws of mechanical causation to the\nmateriality of mind, they argued from its immateriality to the total\nabsence of communication between consciousness and motion. There was,\nhowever, one thinker of that age who went all lengths with the later\nGreek materialists. This was Thomas Hobbes, the founder of modern\nethics, the first Englishman to grasp and develope still further\nGalileo\u2019s method of mathematical deduction and mechanical analysis.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe author of the _Leviathan_ has sometimes been represented as one\nwho carried the Baconian method into politics, and prepared the way\nfor its more thorough application to psychology by Locke. But this\nview, which regards the three great leaders of English philosophy in\nthe seventeenth century as successive links in a connected series, is\na misapprehension of history, which could only have arisen through\nleaving out of account the contemporary development of Continental\nspeculation, and through the inveterate habit of looking on the modern\ndistinction between empiricism and transcendentalism as a fundamental\nantithesis dividing the philosophers of every epoch into two opposing\nschools. The truth is that, if the three writers just mentioned agree\nin deriving knowledge solely from experience, they agree in nothing\nelse; and that their unanimity on this one point does not amount to\nmuch, will be evident if we consider what each understood by the notion\nin question.\n\nWith Bacon, experience was the negation of mere authority, whether\ntaking the form of natural prejudice, of individual prepossession,\nof hollow phrases, or of established systems. The question how we\ncome by that knowledge which all agree to be the most certain, is\nleft untouched in his logic; either of the current answers would have\nsuited his system equally well; nor is there any reason for believing\nthat he would have sided with Mill rather than with Kant respecting\nthe origin of mathematical axioms. With Locke, experience meant the\nanalysis of notions and judgments into the simple data of sense and\nself-consciousness; and the experientialists of the present day are\nbeyond all doubt his disciples; but the parentage of his philosophy,\nso far as it is simply a denial of innate ideas, must be sought, not\nin the _Novum Organum_, nor in any other modern work, but in the\nold _Organon_ of Aristotle, or in the comments of the Schoolmen\nwho followed Aristotle in protesting against the Platonism of their\ntime, just as Locke protested against the Platonism of Descartes and\nMalebranche.\n\nThe experience of Hobbes differs both in origin and application from\neither of these. With him, sensible impressions are not a court of\nappeal against traditional judgments, nor yet are they the ultimate\nelements into which all ideas may be analysed; they are the channels\nthrough which pulsating movements are conveyed into the mind; and\nthese movements, again, represent the action of mechanical forces\nor the will of a paramount authority. And he holds this doctrine,\npartly as a logical consequence of his materialism, partly as a\nsafeguard against the theological pretensions which, in his opinion,\nare a constant threat to social order. The authority of the political\nsovereign is menaced on the one hand by Papal infallibility, and on the\nother by rebellious subjects putting forward a claim to supernatural\ninspiration. To the Pope, Hobbes says: \u2018You are violating the law of\nNature by professing to derive from God what is really given only by\nthe consent of men, and can only be given by them to their temporal\nhead,\u2014the right to impose a particular religion.\u2018 To the Puritan, he\nsays: \u2018Your inward illumination is a superstitious dream, and you have\nno right to use it as a pretext for breaking the king\u2019s peace. Religion\nhas really nothing to do with the supernatural; it is only a particular\nway of inculcating obedience to the natural conditions of social union.\u2019\n\nAgain, Hobbes differs wholly from Bacon in the deductive character of\nhis method. His logic is the old syllogistic system reorganised on\nthe model of mathematical analysis. Like all the great thinkers of\nhis time, he was a geometrician and a mechanical physicist, reasoning\nfrom general to particular propositions and descending from causes to\neffects.[554] His famous theory of a social contract is a rational\nconstruction, not a historical narrative. But though a mathematician,\nhe shows no traces of Platonic influence. He is, therefore, all the\nmore governed by Atomist and Stoic modes of thought. He treats human\nnature, single and associated, as Galileo and Descartes had treated\nmotion and space. Like them, too, he finds himself in constant\nantagonism to Aristotle. The description of man as a social animal\nis disdainfully rejected, and the political union resolved into an\nequilibrium of many opposing wills maintained by violent pressure from\nwithout. In ethics, no less than in physics, we find attractive forces\nreplaced by mechanical impacts.\n\nWhile the analysis of Hobbes goes much deeper than Aristotle\u2019s, the\ngrasp of his reconstructive synthesis is wider and stronger in at\nleast an equal proportion. Recognising the good of the whole as the\nsupreme rule of conduct,[555] he gives a new interpretation to the\nparticular virtues, and disposes of the theory which made them a mean\nbetween two extremes no less effectually than his contemporaries had\ndisposed of the same theory in its application to the elementary\nconstitution of matter. And just as they were aided in their revolt\nagainst Aristotle by the revival of other Greek systems, so also was\nhe. The identification of justice with public interest, though commonly\nattributed to Epicurus alone, was, like materialism, an idea shared by\nhim with Stoicism, and was probably impressed on modern thought by the\nweight of their united authority. And when we find the philosopher of\nMalmesbury making public happiness consist in order and tranquillity,\nwe cannot but think that this was a generalisation from the Stoic and\nEpicurean conceptions of individual happiness; for it reproduces, under\na social form, the same ideal of passionless repose.\n\nOn the other hand, this substitution of the social for the personal\ninteger involves a corresponding change in the valuation of individual\nhappiness. What the passions had been to later Greek philosophy,\nthat the individual soul became to Hobbes, something essentially\ninfinite and insatiable, whose desires grow as they are gratified,\nwhose happiness, if such it can be called, is not a condition of\nstable repose but of perpetual movement and unrest.[556] Here, again,\nthe analogy between physics and ethics obtains. In both, there was\nan original opposition between the idea of a limit and the idea\nof infinite expansion. Just as, among the earlier Greek thinkers,\nthere was a physical philosophy of the infinite or, as its impugners\ncalled it, the indefinite, so also there was, corresponding to it,\na philosophy of the infinite or indefinite in ethics, represented,\nnot indeed by professional moralists, but by rhetoricians and men of\nthe world. Their ideal was not the contented man, but the popular\norator or the despot who revels in the consciousness of power\u2014the\nability to satisfy his desires, whatever they may be. And the extreme\nconsequence of this principle is drawn by Plato\u2019s Callicles when he\ndeclares that true happiness consists in nursing one\u2019s desires up to\nthe highest point at which they can be freely indulged; while his ideal\nof character is the superior individual who sets at naught whatever\nrestraints have been devised by a weak and timid majority to protect\nthemselves against him.\n\nThe Greek love of balanced antithesis and circumscribing form triumphed\nover the infinite in both fields. While the two great masters of\nidealism imprisoned the formless and turbulent terrestrial elements\nwithin a uniform and eternal sphere of crystal, they imposed a similar\nrestraint on the desires and emotions, confining them within a barrier\nof reason which, when once erected, could never be broken through. And\nalthough the ground won in physics was lost again for a time through a\nrevival of old theories, this was because true Hellenism found its only\ncongenial sphere in ethics, and there the philosophy of the finite\ncontinued to reign supreme. If the successors of Aristotle fell back on\ncosmologies of ampler scope than his, they retained his limiting method\nin their speculations on man.\n\nWith Christianity, there came a certain inversion of parts. The\nexternal universe again became subjected to narrow limitations, and\nthe _flammantia moenia mundi_ beyond which Epicurus had dared to\npenetrate, were raised up once more and guarded by new terrors as\nan impassable barrier to thought. But infinity took refuge within\nthe soul; and, while in this life a sterner self-control than even\nthat of Stoicism was enjoined, perspectives of illimitable delight\nin another life were disclosed. Finally, at the Renaissance, every\nbarrier was simultaneously overthrown, and the accumulated energies\nof western civilisation expatiated over a field which, if it was vast\nin reality, was absolutely unbounded in imagination. Great as were\nthe achievements of that age, its dreams were greater still; and what\nmost excites our wonder in the works of its heroes is but the fragment\nof an unfinished whole. The ideal of life set up by Aristotle was,\nlike his conception of the world, contradicted in every particular;\nand the relative positions assigned by him to act and power were\nprecisely reversed. It has been shown how Shakespeare reflected the\nPlatonism of his contemporaries: he reflected also the fierce outburst\nof their ambition; and in describing what they would dare, to possess\nsolely sovereign sway and masterdom, or wear without corrival all\nthe dignities of honour, he borrowed almost the very words used by\nEuripides to express the feelings encouraged by some teachers of his\ntime. The same spirit is exhibited a generation later in the dramas\nof Calderon and Corneille, before their thoughts were forced into a\ndifferent channel by the stress of the Catholic reaction; while its\nlast and highest manifestation is the sentiment of Milton\u2019s ruined\narchangel, that to reign in hell is better than to serve in heaven.\nThus, when Hobbes reduces all the passions to modes of the fundamental\ndesire for power,[557] he does but give the scientific theory of that\nwhich stands proclaimed in more thrilling accents by the noblest poetry\nof his age.\n\nWhere no danger could deter from the pursuit of power, no balancing\nof pain with pleasure availed to quench the ardour of desire. With\nfull knowledge that violent delights have violent ends and in their\ntriumph die, the fateful condition was accepted. Not only did Giordano\nBruno, in conscious parallelism with his theory of matter, declare that\nwithout mutation, variety, and vicissitude nothing would be agreeable,\nnothing good, nothing delightful, that enjoyment consists solely in\ntransition and movement, and that all pleasure lies midway between the\npainful longing of fresh appetite and the sadness of its satiation and\nextinction;[558] but the sedater wisdom of Bacon, in touching on the\ncontroversy between Callicles and Socrates, seems to incline towards\nthe side of the former; and, in all cases, warns men not to make too\nmuch of the inconveniences attendent on pleasure, but \u2018so to procure\nserenity as they destroy not magnanimity.\u2019[559]\n\nThese, then, were the principal elements of the philosophical\nRenaissance. First, there was a certain survival of Aristotelianism\nas a method of comprehensive and logical arrangement. Then there\nwas the new Platonism, bringing along with it a revival of either\nAlexandrian or mediaeval pantheism, and closely associated with\ngeometrical studies. Thirdly, there was the old Greek Atomism, as\noriginally set forth by Democritus or as re-edited by Epicurus,\ntraditionally unfavourable to theology, potent alike for decomposition\nand reconstruction, confirmed by the new astronomy, and lending\nits method to the reformation of mathematics; next the later Greek\nethical systems; and finally the formless idea of infinite power which\nall Greek systems had, as such, conspired to suppress, but which,\nnevertheless, had played a great part in the earlier stages of Greek\nspeculation both physical and moral.\n\nOn these foundations the lofty edifice of Spinozism was reared; out\nof these materials its composite structure was built; and without a\nprevious study of them it cannot be understood.\n\n\nVI.\n\nWhether Spinoza ever read Plato is doubtful. One hardly sees why he\nshould have neglected a writer whose works were easily accessible,\nand at that time very popular with thinking minds. But whether he was\nacquainted with the _Dialogues_ at first hand or not, Plato will help\nus to understand Spinoza, for it was through the door of geometry that\nhe entered philosophy, and under the guidance of one who was saturated\nwith the Platonic spirit; so far as Christianity influenced him, it\nwas through elements derived from Plato; and his metaphysical method\nwas one which, more than any other, would have been welcomed with\ndelight by the author of the _Meno_ and the _Republic_, as an attempt\nto realise his own dialectical ideal. For Spinozism is, on the face\nof it, an application of geometrical reasoning to philosophy, and\nespecially to ethics. It is also an attempt to prove transcendentally\nwhat geometricians only assume\u2014the necessity of space. Now, Plato\nlooked on geometrical demonstration as the great type of certainty, the\nscientific completion of what Socrates had begun by his interrogative\nmethod, the one means of carrying irrefragable conviction into every\ndepartment of knowledge, and more particularly into the study of our\nhighest good. On the other hand, he saw that geometricians assume\nwhat itself requires to be demonstrated; and he confidently expected\nthat the deficiency would be supplied by his own projected method of\ntranscendent dialectics. Such at least seems to be the drift of the\nfollowing passage:\n\n When I speak of the division of the intellectual, you will also\n understand me to speak of that knowledge which reason herself\n attains by the power of dialectic, using the hypotheses not as first\n principles, but only as hypotheses\u2014that is to say as steps and points\n of departure into a region which is above hypotheses, in order that\n she may soar beyond them to the first principle of the whole; and\n clinging to this and then to that which depends on this, by successive\n steps she descends again without the aid of any sensible object,\n beginning and ending in ideas.[560]\n\nThe problem, then, which Spinoza set himself was, first, to account for\nthe fundamental assumptions of all science, and more particularly of\ngeometry, by deducing them from a single self-evident principle; and\nthen to use that principle for the solution of whatever problems seemed\nto stand most in need of its application. And, as usually happens\nin such adventurous enterprises, the supposed answer of pure reason\nwas obtained by combining or expanding conceptions borrowed without\ncriticism from pre-existing systems of philosophy.\n\nDescartes had already accomplished a great simplification of the\nspeculative problem by summing up all existence under the two heads of\nextension and thought. It remained to account for these, and to reduce\nthem to a single idea. As we have seen, they were derived from Greek\nphilosophy, and the bond which was to unite them must be sought for in\nthe same direction. It will be remembered that the systems of Plato\nand Aristotle were bounded at either extremity by a determinate and\nby an indeterminate principle. With the one, existence ranged between\nthe Idea of Good at the upper end of the scale and empty space at the\nlower; with the other, between absolute Thought and First Matter.\nIt was by combining the two definite terms, space and thought, that\nDescartes had constructed his system; and after subtracting these the\ntwo indefinite terms remained. In one respect they were even more\nopposed to each other than were the terms with which they had been\nrespectively associated. The Idea of Good represented unity, identity,\nand constancy, as against plurality, difference, and change; while\nAristotle\u2019s Matter was, by its very definition, multiform, fluctuating,\nand indeterminate. Nevertheless, there were equally important analogies\ntraceable between them. No very clear account could be given of either,\nand both were customarily described by negatives. If Matter fell short\nof complete existence, the Good transcended all existence. If the one\nwas a universal capacity for assuming Forms, the other was the source\nwhence all Forms proceeded. When the distinctive characteristics of an\nindividual were thought away, the question might well be mooted into\nwhich principle it would return. The ambiguous use of the word Power\ncontributed still further to their identification, for it was not less\napplicable to the receptive than to the productive faculty. Now we have\njust seen into what importance the idea of Power suddenly sprang at the\nRenaissance: with Bruno it was the only abiding reality of Nature; with\nHobbes it was the only object of human desire.\n\nAnother term occupying a very large place in Aristotle\u2019s philosophy\nwas well adapted to mediate between and eventually to unite the two\nspeculative extremes. This was Substance; in logic the subject of\npredication, in metaphysics the substratum of qualities, the \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 or\nBeing of the Ten Categories. Now First Matter might fairly claim the\nposition of a universal subject or substance, since it was invested\nwith every sensible quality in turn, and even, as the common element of\nall Forms, with every thinkable quality as well. Aristotle himself had\nfinally pronounced for the individual compound of Form and Matter as\nthe true substance. Yet he also speaks as if the essential definition\nof a thing constituted the thing itself; in which case Form alone could\nbe the true subject; and a similar claim might be put forward on behalf\nof the Plotinian One.[561]\n\nSuch were the _\u00e0 priori_ elements which a historical synthesis had\nprepared to satisfy the want of a metaphysical Absolute. Let us now\nsee what result would follow when the newly-recovered idea of space\nwas subjected to a metaphysical analysis. Extension is both one and\ninfinite. No particular area can be conceived apart from the whole\nwhich both contains and explains it. Again, extension is absolutely\nhomogeneous; to whatever distance we may travel in imagination there\nwill still be the same repetition of similar parts. But space, with the\nCartesians, meant more than a simple juxtaposition of parts; having\nbeen made the essence of matter, it was invested with mechanical as\nwell as with geometrical properties. The bodies into which it resolved\nitself were conceived as moving, and as communicating their movement\nto one another through an unbroken chain of causation in which each\nconstituted a single link, determining and determined by the rest; so\nthat, here also, each part was explained by reference to an infinite\nwhole, reproducing its essence, while exempt from the condition of\ncircumscribed existence. We can understand, then, that when the\nnecessity of accounting for extension itself once became felt, the\nnatural solution would be to conceive it as holding the same relation\nto some greater whole which its own subdivisions held to their sum\ntotal; in other words it should be at once a part, an emanation, and\nan image of the ultimate reality. This is, in fact, very nearly the\nrelation which Matter holds to the One in the Neo-Platonic system.\nAnd we know that with Plotinus Matter is almost the same as infinite\nExtension.\n\nCorresponding to the universal space which contains all particular\nspaces, there was, in the Neo-Platonic system, a universal Thought\nwhich contained all particular thoughts,\u2014the Nous about which we heard\nso much in studying Plotinus. Such a conception is utterly strange\nto the modern mind, but it was familiar enough to Spinoza; and we can\nsee how it would be suggested by the common forms of reasoning. The\ntendency of syllogism is either to subsume lower under higher notions\nuntil a _summum genus_ is reached, or to resolve all subjects into a\nsingle predicate, or to connect all predicates with a single subject.\nThe analogies of space, too, would tell in the same direction, bringing\nnearer the idea of a vast thought-sea in which all particular thoughts,\nor what to a Cartesian meant the same thing, all particular minds, were\ncontained. And Neo-Platonism showed how this universal Mind or Thought\ncould, like the space which it so much resembled, be interpreted as\nthe product of a still higher principle. To complete the parallelism,\nit remained to show that Thought, which before had seemed essentially\nfinite, is, on the contrary, co-infinite with Extension. How this was\ndone will appear a little further on.\n\nSpinoza gathered up all the threads of speculation thus made ready for\nhis grasp, when he defined God as a substance consisting of infinite\nattributes, each of which expresses his infinite and eternal essence;\nsubsequently adding that the essence here spoken of is Power, and that\ntwo of the infinite attributes are Extension and Thought, whereof the\nparticular things known to us are modes. Platonism had decomposed the\nworld into two ideal principles, and had re-created it by combining\nthem over again in various proportions, but they were not entirely\nreabsorbed and worked up into the concrete reality which resulted from\ntheir union; they were, so to speak, knotted together, but the ends\ncontinued to hang loose. Above and below the finite sphere of existence\nthere remained as an unemployed surplus the infinite causal energy\nof the One and the infinite passive potentiality of Matter. Spinoza\ncombined and identified the two opposing elements in the notion of a\nsingle substance as infinite in actuality as they had been in power. He\nthus gave its highest metaphysical expression to that common tendency\nwhich we traced through the prospects opened out by the Copernican\nastronomy, the revival of Atomism, the dynamical psychology of Hobbes,\nand the illimitable passion of the Renaissance, while, at the same\ntime, preserving the unity of Plato\u2019s idealism, and even making it more\nconcentrated than before.\n\nIt has been shown how universal space and universal thought at once\ncontain and explain each particular space and each particular concept.\nIn like manner, the infinite substance contains and explains space and\nthought themselves. Contains them, yes, as attributes; but explains\nthem, how? As two among an infinity of attributes. In other words,\nif we ask why there should be such an existence as space, the answer\nis because existence, being infinite, must necessarily include every\nconceivable thing. The argument is strikingly like a principle of\nthe Epicurean philosophy, and may well have been suggested by it.\nAccording to Lucretius, the appearance of design in our world need not\nbe attributed to creative intelligence, because infinite atoms moving\nin infinite manners through infinite time, must at length arrive,\nafter a comprehensive series of experiments, at the present frame of\nthings;[562] and the same principle is invoked on a smaller scale to\naccount for the origin of organised beings, of memory, and of civil\nsociety.[563] In both systems, infinite space is the root-conception;\nbut what Lucretius had legitimately used to explain becoming, Spinoza\nillegitimately applies to the elucidation of being. At one stroke all\nempirical knowledge is placed on an _\u00e0 priori_ foundation. By assuming\nunlimited credit at the bank of the universe we entitle ourselves to\ndraw a cheque for any particular amount. Thus the idea of infinite\nattributes is no mere collateral speculation, but forms an essential\nelement of Spinozism. The known varieties of existence are, so to\nspeak, surrounded, supported, and fixed in their places by the endless\nmultitude of the unknown. And this conception of being as absolutely\ninfinite, is another proof of Spinoza\u2019s Platonic tendencies, for it\ninvolves the realisation of an abstract idea, that is to say, of Being,\nwhich the philosopher treats as something more comprehensive than the\nfacts of consciousness whence it is derived.\n\nOr, again, we may say that two principles,\u2014the Nominalistic as well\nas the Realistic,\u2014are here at work. By virtue of the one, Spinoza\nmakes Being something beyond and above the facts of experience.\nBy virtue of the other he reinvests it with concrete reality, but\na reality altogether transcending our powers of imagination. Very\nmuch, also, that Plotinus says about his One might be applied to\nSpinoza\u2019s Substance, but with a new and positive meaning. The First\nCause is above existence, but only existence as restricted within the\nvery narrow limits of our experience, and only as infinite reality\ntranscends the parts which it includes.\n\nIt is well known that Spinoza draws a sharp line of demarcation\nbetween the two attributes of Extension and Thought, which, with him,\ncorrespond to what are usually called body and mind. Neither attribute\ncan act on the other. Mind receives no impressions from body, nor\ndoes body receive any impulses from mind. This proposition follows by\nrigorous logical necessity from the Platonic principle that mind is\nindependent of body, combined with the Stoic principle that nothing\nbut body can act on body, generalised into the wider principle that\ninteraction implies homogeneity of nature. According to some critics,\nSpinoza\u2019s teaching on this point constitutes a fatal flaw in his\nphilosophy. How, it is asked, can we know that there is any such thing\nas body (or extension) if body cannot be perceived,\u2014for perceived it\ncertainly cannot be without acting on our minds? The idea of infinite\nsubstance suggests a way out of the difficulty. \u2018I find in myself,\u2019\nSpinoza might say, \u2018the idea of extension. In fact, my mind _is_\nnothing but the idea of extension, or the idea of that idea, and so\non through as many self-reflections as you please. At the same time,\nmind, or thought, is not itself extended. Descartes and the Platonists\nbefore him have proved thus much. Consequently I can conceive extension\nas existing independently of myself, and, more generally, of all\nthought. But how can I be sure that it actually does so exist? In this\nwise. An examination of thought leads me to the notion of something in\nwhich it resides\u2014a substance whose attribute it is. But having once\nconceived such a substance, I cannot limit it to a single attribute,\nnor to two, nor to any finite number. Limitation implies a boundary,\nand there can be no boundary assigned to existence, for existence\nby its very definition includes everything that is. Accordingly,\nwhatever can be conceived, in other words whatever can be thought\nwithout involving a contradiction,\u2014an important reservation which I\nbeg you to observe,\u2014must necessarily exist. Now extension involves\nno contradiction, therefore it exists,\u2014exists, that is to say, as an\nattribute of the infinite substance. And, by parity of reasoning,\nthere must be an idea of extension; for this also can exist without\ninvolving a contradiction, as the simplest introspection suffices to\nshow. You ask me why then I do not believe in gorgons and chimaeras. I\nanswer that since, in point of fact, they do not exist, I presume that\ntheir notion involves a contradiction, although my knowledge of natural\nlaw is not sufficiently extended to show me where the contradiction\nlies. But perhaps science will some day be able to point out in every\ninstance of a non-existing thing, where the contradiction lies, no\nless surely than it can now be pointed out in the case of impossible\ngeometrical figures.\u2019 In short, while other people travel straight from\ntheir sensations to an external world, Spinoza travels round to it by\nthe idea of an infinite substance.[564]\n\nThe relation of Spinoza\u2019s Substance to its attributes is ambiguous. It\nis at once their cause, their totality, and their unity. The highly\nelastic and indefinite term Power helped these various aspects to play\ninto and replace one another according to the requirements of the\nsystem. It is associated with the subjective possibility of multiplying\nimaginary existences to any amount; with the causal energy in which\nexistence originates; and with the expansiveness characteristic alike\nof Extension and of Thought. For the two known attributes of the\nuniversal substance are not simply related to it as co-predicates of\na common subject; they severally express its essential Power, and\nare, to that extent, identical with one another. But when we ask,\nHow do they express Power? the same ambiguity recurs. Substance is\nrevealed through its attributes, as a cause through its effects; as an\naggregate through its constituents; and as an abstract notion through\nits concrete embodiments. Thus Extension and Thought are identical\nthrough their very differences, since these illustrate the versatility\nof their common source, and at the same time jointly contribute to the\nrealisation of its perfection. But, for all practical purposes, Spinoza\ndeals only with the parallelism and resemblance of the attributes. We\nhave to see how he establishes it, and how far he was helped in so\ndoing by the traditions of Greek philosophy.\n\n\nVII.\n\nIt has been already shown how Extension, having become identified\nwith matter, took on its mechanical qualities, and was conceived as\na connected series of causes or modes of motion. The parallel found\nby Spinoza for this series in Thought is the chain of reasons and\nconsequents forming a demonstrative argument; and here he is obviously\nfollowing Aristotle, who although ostensibly distinguishing between\nformal and efficient causes, hopelessly confounds them in the second\nbook of his _Posterior Analytics_.[565] We are said to understand a\nthing when we bring it under a general rule, and also when we discover\nthe mechanical agency which produces it. For instance, we may know\nthat a particular man will die, either from the fact that all men\nare mortal, or from the fact that he has received a fatal wound. The\ngeneral rule, however, is not the cause of what will happen, but only\nthe cause of our knowing that it will happen; and knowledge of the rule\nby no means carries with it a knowledge of the efficient cause; as we\nsee in the case of gravitation and other natural forces whose _modus\noperandi_ is still a complete mystery. What deceived Aristotle was\npartly his false analysis of the syllogism, which he interpreted as\nthe connexion of two terms by the interposition of a middle answering\nto the causal nexus of two phenomena; and partly his conception of the\nuniverse as a series of concentric spheres, through which movement is\ntransmitted from without, thus combining the two ideas of notional\ncomprehension and mechanical causation.\n\nBe this as it may, Spinoza takes up the Aristotelian identification\nof logical with dynamical connexion, and gives it the widest possible\ndevelopment. For the Stagirite would not, at any rate, have dreamed of\nattributing any but a subjective existence to the demonstrative series,\nnor of extending it beyond the limits of our actual knowledge. Spinoza,\non the other hand, assumes that the whole infinite chain of material\ncauses is represented by a corresponding chain of eternal ideas; and\nthis chain he calls the infinite intellect of God.[566] Here, besides\nthe necessities of systematisation, the influence of mediaeval\nrealism is plainly evident. For, when the absolute self-existence\nof Plato\u2019s Ideas had been surrendered in deference to Aristotle\u2019s\ncriticism, a home was still found for them by Plotinus in the eternal\nNous, and by the Christian Schoolmen in the mind of God; nor did such\na belief present any difficulties so long as the divine personality\nwas respected. The pantheism of Spinoza, however, was absolute, and\nexcluded the notion of any but a finite subjectivity. Thus the infinite\nintellect of God is an unsupported chain of ideas recalling the theory\nat one time imagined by Plato.[567] Or its existence may be merely what\nAristotle would have called potential; in other words, Spinoza may\nmean that reasons will go on evolving themselves so long as we choose\nto study the dialectic of existence, always in strict parallelism with\nthe natural series of material movements constituting the external\nuniverse; and just as this is determined through all its parts by the\ntotality of extension, or of all matter (whether moving or motionless)\ntaken together, so also at the summit of the logical series stands the\nidea of God, from whose definition the demonstration of every lesser\nidea necessarily follows. It is true that in a chain of connected\nenergies the antecedent, as such, must be always precisely equal to the\nconsequent; but, apparently, this difficulty did not present itself to\nSpinoza, nor need we be surprised at this; for Kant, coming a century\nlater, was still so imbued with Aristotelian traditions as, similarly,\nto derive the category of Cause and Effect from the relation between\nReason and Consequent in hypothetical propositions.[568]\n\nMeanwhile the parallelism between Thought and Extension was not\nexhausted by the identification just analysed. Extension was not only a\nseries of movements; it still remained an expression for co-existence\nand adjacency. Spinoza, therefore, felt himself obliged to supply\nThought with a correspondingly continuous quality. It is here that his\nchief originality lies, here that he has been most closely followed\nby the philosophy of our own time. Mind, he declares, is an attribute\neverywhere accompanying matter, co-extensive and co-infinite with\nspace. Our own animation is the sum or the resultant of an animation\nclinging to every particle that enters into the composition of our\nbodies. When our thoughts are affected by an external impulse, to\nsuppose that this impulse proceeds from anything material is a\ndelusion; it is produced by the mind belonging to the body which acts\non our body; although in what sense this process is to be understood\nremains a mystery. Spinoza has clearly explained the doctrine of\nanimal automatism, and shown it to be perfectly conceivable;[569] but\nhe has entirely omitted to explain how the parallel influence of one\nthought (or feeling) on another is to be understood; for although this\ntoo is spoken of as a causal relation, it seems to be quite different\nfrom the logical concatenation described as the infinite intellect of\nGod; and to suppose that idea follows from idea like movement from\nmovement would amount to a complete materialisation of mind; while our\nphilosopher would certainly have repudiated Mr. Shadworth Hodgson\u2019s\ntheory, that states of consciousness are only connected through their\nextended substratum, as the segments of a mosaic picture are held\ntogether by the underlying surface of masonry. Nor can we admit that\nSpinoza entertained the theory, now so popular, according to which\nextension and consciousness are merely different aspects of a single\nreality. For this would imply that the substance which they manifest\nhad an existence of its own apart from its attributes; whereas Spinoza\nmakes it consist of the attributes, that is to say, identifies it with\ntheir totality. We are forced, then, to conclude that the proposition\ndeclaring thought and extension to be the same thing[570] has no other\nmeaning than that they are connected by the double analogy which we\nhave endeavoured to explain.\n\nThe analogy between Thought and Extension under the two aspects of\nnecessary connexion and mere contingent relation in co-existence or\nsuccession, was, in truth, more interesting to its author as a basis\nfor his ethical than as a development of his metaphysical speculations.\nThe two orders of relations represent, in their distinction, the\nopposition of science to opinion or imagination, the opposition of\ndutiful conviction to blind or selfish impulse. Spinoza borrows from\nthe Stoics their identification of volition with belief; but in working\nout the consequences of this principle it is of Plato rather than of\nthe Stoics that he reminds us. The passions are in his system what\nsense, imagination, and opinion were in that of the Athenian idealist;\nand his ethics may almost be called the metaphysics of the _Republic_\nturned outside in. Joy, grief and desire are more or less imperfect\nperceptions of reality\u2014a reality not belonging to the external world\nbut to the conscious subject itself.[571] When Spinoza traces them to a\nconsciousness or expectation of raised or lowered power, we recognise\nthe influence of Hobbes; but when, here as elsewhere, he identifies\npower with existence, we detect a return to Greek forms of thought. The\ngreat conflict between illusion and reality is fought out once more;\nonly, this time, it is about our own essence that we are first deceived\nand then enlightened. If the nature and origin of outward things are\nhalf revealed, half concealed by sense and imagination, our emotions\nare in like manner the obscuring and distorting medium through which\nwe apprehend our inmost selves, and whatever adds to or takes away\nfrom the plenitude of our existence; and what science is to the one,\nmorality and religion are to the other.\n\nIt is remarkable that while Spinoza was giving a new application to\nthe Platonic method, another Cartesian, Malebranche, was working\nit out more strictly on the old lines of speculative research. The\n_Recherche de la V\u00e9rit\u00e9_ of this unjustly neglected thinker is a\nmethodical account of the various subjective obstacles which impede\nour apprehension of things as they really exist, and of the means by\nwhich it may be facilitated. Here also, attention is concentrated on\nthe subjective side of philosophy; and if the mental processes selected\nfor study are of theoretical rather than practical interest, we may\nprobably attribute this to the circumstance that every ethical question\nwas already decided for Malebranche by the Church whose orders he had\nassumed.\n\nBut it was not merely in the writings of professed philosophers that\nthe new aspect of Platonism found expression. All great art embodies\nin one form or another the leading conceptions of its age; and the\nlatter half of the seventeenth century found such a manifestation\nin the comedies of Moli\u00e8re. If these works stand at the head of\nFrench literature, they owe their position not more to their author\u2019s\nbrilliant wit than to his profound philosophy of life; or rather, we\nshould say that with him wit and philosophy are one. The comic power\nof Shakespeare was shown by resolving the outward appearances of\nthis world into a series of dissolving illusions. Like Spinoza and\nMalebranche, Moli\u00e8re turns the illusion in, showing what perverted\nopinions men form of themselves and others, through misconceptions\nand passions either of spontaneous growth or sedulously fostered by\ndesigning hands. Society, with him, seems almost entirely made up of\npretenders and their dupes, both characters being not unfrequently\ncombined in the same person, who is made a victim through his desire\nto pass for what he is not and cannot be. And this is what essentially\ndistinguishes the art of Moli\u00e8re from the New Comedy of Athens, which\nhe, like other moderns, had at first felt inclined to imitate until\nthe success of the _Pr\u00e9cieuses Ridicules_ showed him where his true\nopportunities lay. For the New Comedy was Aristotelian where it was\nnot simply humanist; that is to say, it was an exhibition of types\nlike those sketched by Aristotle\u2019s disciple, Theophrastus, and already\nprefigured in the master\u2019s own _Ethics_. These were the perennial\nforms in a world of infinite and perishing individual existences, not\nconcealed behind phenomena, but incorporated in them and constituting\ntheir essential truth. The Old Comedy is something different again; it\nis pre-philosophic, and may be characterised as an attempt to describe\ngreat political interests and tendencies through the medium of myths\nand fables and familiar domesticities, just as the old theories of\nNature, the old lessons of practical wisdom, and the first great\nnational chronicles had been thrown into the same homely form.[572]\n\nThe purely intellectual view of human nature, the definition of mind\nin terms of cognition, is one more fallacy from which Aristotle\u2019s\nteaching, had it not fallen into neglect or contempt, might have\nguarded Spinoza. Nevertheless, his parallelism between passion and\nsensuous perception saves him from the worst extravagances of his Greek\npredecessors. For the senses, however much they might be maligned,\nnever were nor could be altogether rejected; while the passions met\nwith little mercy from Plato and with none from the Stoics, who\nconsidered them not only unnecessary but even unnatural. Spinoza\nmore wisely sees in them assertions, however obscure and confused,\nof the will to be and grow which constitutes individual existence.\nAnd he sees that they can no more be removed by pointing out their\nevil consequences than sense-impressions can be abolished by proving\ntheir fallaciousness. On the other hand, when Spinoza speaks as if\none emotion could only be conquered or expelled by another emotion,\nwe must not allow his peculiar phraseology to conceal from us the\npurely intellectual character of his whole ethical system. What he\nreally holds is that emotion can be overcome by reason or better\nknowledge, because it is itself an imperfect cognition. Point by point,\nan analogy\u2014or something more than an analogy\u2014is made out between the\nerrors of sensuous perception joined to imagination, and the errors of\nour spontaneous efforts after happiness or self-realisation. Both are\nimposed on us from without, and neither can be got rid of by a simple\nact of volition. Both are affected by illusions of perspective: the\nnearer object of desire, like the nearer object of perception, assuming\na disproportionate place in the field of view. In both, accidental\ncontiguity is habitually confounded with causation; while in both the\nassignment of causes to effects, instead of being traced back through\nan infinite series of antecedents, stops short with the antecedent\nnearest to ourselves. If objects are classified according to their\nsuperficial resemblances or the usages of common language, so also\nare the desires sustained and intensified by imitation and rivalry.\nBy parity of reasoning, moral education must be conducted on the same\nlines as intellectual education. First, it is shown how our individual\nexistence, depending as it does on forces infinitely exceeding our\nown, is to be maintained. This is chiefly done by cultivating friendly\nrelations with other men; probably, although Spinoza does not himself\nmake the comparison, on the same principle as that observed in the\nmutual assistance and rectification of the senses, together with their\npreservation by means of verbal signs. The misleading passions are to\nbe overcome by discovering their origin; by referring the pleasures and\npains which produce them to the right causes; by calling in thought to\nredress the balance of imagination; by dividing the attention among\nan infinite number of causes; finally, by demonstrating the absolute\nnecessity of whatever actions excite them, and classifying them\naccording to their relations, in the same way that the phenomena of the\nmaterial world are dealt with when subjected to scientific analysis.\n\nSo far Spinoza, following the example of Stoicism, has only studied\nthe means by which reason conquers passion. He now proceeds to show,\nin the spirit of Plato or of Platonic Christianity, how immensely\nsuperior to the pleasures of sense and opinion are those afforded by\ntrue religion\u2014by the love of God and the possession of eternal life.\nBut, here also, as in the Greek system, logic does duty for emotion.\nThe love of God means no more than viewing ourselves as filling a place\nin the infinite framework of existence, and as determined to be what we\nare by the totality of forces composing it. And eternal life is merely\nthe adjustment of our thoughts to the logical order by which all modes\nof existence are deducible from the idea of infinite power.\n\nThus, while Spinoza draws to a head all the tendencies inherited\nfrom Greek philosophy, borrowing from the early physicists their\nnecessarianism; from the Atomists, their exclusion of final causes,\ntheir denial of the supernatural, and their infinite worlds; from the\nAthenian school, their distinction between mind and body and between\nreason and sense; from Aristotle, his parallelism between causation\nand syllogism; from the Epicureans, their vindication of pleasure; and\nfrom the Stoics, their identification of belief with action, their\nconquest of passion and their devotion to humanity;\u2014it is to the\ndominant Platonism of the seventeenth century that his system owes its\nfoundation, its development, and its crown; for he begins by realising\nthe abstract conception of being, and infers its absolute infinity from\nthe misleading analogy of space, which is not an abstraction at all;\ndeduces his conclusions according to the geometrical method recommended\nby Plato; and ends, like Plato, by translating dialectic formulas into\nthe emotional language of religious faith.[573]\n\n\nVIII.\n\nFrom this grand synthesis, however, a single element was omitted; and,\nlike the uninvited guest of fairy tradition, it proved strong enough\nsingly to destroy what had been constructed by the united efforts of\nall the rest. This was the sceptical principle, the critical analysis\nof ideas, first exercised by Protagoras, made a new starting-point by\nSocrates, carried to perfection by Plato, supplementing experience with\nAristotle, and finally proclaimed in its purity as the sole function of\nphilosophy by an entire school of Greek thought.\n\nNotwithstanding the sterility commonly associated with mere negation,\nit was this which, of all the later Greek schools, possessed the\ngreatest powers of growth. Besides passing through more than one\nstage of development on its own account, Scepticism imposed serious\nmodifications on Stoicism, gave birth to Eclecticism, and contributed\nto the establishment of Neo-Platonism. The explanation is not far to\nseek. The more highly organised a system is, the more resistance does\nit offer to change, the more does its transmission tend to assume\na rigidly scholastic form. To such dogmatism the Sceptics were, on\nprinciple, opposed; and by keeping the problems of philosophy open,\nthey facilitated the task of all who had a new solution to offer;\nwhile mind and its activities being, to some extent, safe from\nthe universal doubt, the sceptical principle spontaneously threw\nback thought on a subjective instead of an objective synthesis of\nknowledge\u2014in other words, on that psychological idealism the pregnancy\nand comprehensiveness of which are every day becoming more clearly\nrecognised. And we shall now see how the same fertilising power of\ncriticism has been manifested in modern times as well.\n\nThe sceptical philosophy, already advocated in the Middle Ages by John\nof Salisbury, was, like every other form of ancient thought, revived\nat the Renaissance, but only under the very superficial form which\ninfers from the co-existence of many divergent opinions that none\nof them can be true. Even so, however, it led Montaigne to sounder\nnotions of toleration and humanity than were entertained by any of his\ncontemporaries. With Bacon, and still more with Descartes, it also\nappears as the necessary preparation for a remodelling of all belief;\nbut the great dogmatic systems still exercised such a potent influence\non both those thinkers that their professed demand for a new method\nmerely leads up to an altered statement of the old unproved assumptions.\n\nMeanwhile the old principle of universal doubt could no longer be\nmaintained in presence of the certainties already won by modern\nscience. Man, in the time of Newton, had, as Pope tersely puts it,\n\u2018too much knowledge for the sceptic side.\u2019 The problem was not how to\nestablish the reality, but how to ascertain the origin and possible\nextent of that knowledge. The first to perceive this, the first to\nevolve criticism out of scepticism, and therefore the real founder\nof modern philosophy, was Locke. Nevertheless, even with him, the\nadvantage of studying the more recent in close connexion with the\nearlier developments of thought does not cease; it only enters on a new\nphase. If he cannot, like his predecessors, be directly affiliated to\none or more of the Greek schools, his position can be illustrated by a\nparallel derived from the history of those schools. What Arcesilaus and\nCarneades had been to Socrates and his successors, that Locke was, in a\nlarge measure, to Bacon and the Cartesians. He went back to the initial\ndoubt which with them had been overborne by the dogmatic reaction,\nand insisted on making it a reality. The spirit of the _Apologia_ is\nabsent from Plato\u2019s later dialogues, only to reappear with even more\nthan its original power in the teaching of the New Academy. And, in\nlike manner, Descartes\u2019 introspective method, with its demand for\nclear ideas, becomes, in the _Essay concerning Human Understanding_,\nan irresistible solvent for the psychologyy and physics of its first\npropounder. The doctrine of innate ideas, the doctrine that extension\nis the essence of matter, the doctrine that thought is the essence of\nmind, the more general doctrine, held also by Bacon, that things have\na discoverable essence whence all their properties may be deduced by a\nprocess analogous to mathematical reasoning,\u2014all collapsed when brought\nto the test of definite and concrete experience.\n\nWe have here, indeed, something comparable not only to the scepticism\nof the New Academy, but also to the Aristotelian criticism of Plato\u2019s\nmetaphysics; and, at first sight, it might seem as if the Peripatetic\nphilosophy was destined once more to regain the position taken from it\nby the resuscitation of its ancient foe. But Locke was not inclined\nto substitute one form of scholasticism for another. By applying the\nanalytical method of Atomism to knowledge itself, he created a weapon\nequally fatal to the two competing systems. Under his dissection, the\nconcrete individual substance of the one vanished no less completely\nthan the universal ideas of the other. Nothing remained but a bundle of\nqualities held together by a subjective bond.\n\nSimilarly, in political science, the analytical method of assuming\ncivil government to result from a concurrence of individual wills,\nwhich with Hobbes had served only to destroy ecclesiastical authority,\nwhile leaving intact and even strengthening the authority of secular\nrulers, was reinterpreted by Locke as a negation of all absolutism\nwhatever.\n\nIt is interesting to observe how, here also, the positive science of\nthe age had a large share in determining its philosophic character.\nFounded on the discovery of the earth\u2019s true shape, Aristotle\u2019s\nmetaphysics had been overthrown by the discovery of the earth\u2019s\nmotion. And now the claims of Cartesianism to have furnished an exact\nknowledge of matter and a definition of it whence all the facts of\nobservation could be deduced _\u00e0 priori_, were summarily refuted by the\ndiscovery of universal gravitation. The Cartesians complained that\nNewton was bringing back the occult qualities of the Schoolmen; but\nthe tendency of bodies to move towards one another proved as certain\nas it was inexplicably mysterious. For a time, the study of causes was\nsuperseded by the study of laws; and the new method of physical science\nmoved in perfect harmony with the phenomenism of Locke. One most\nimportant consequence of this revolution was to place the new Critical\nphilosophy on a footing quite different from that occupied by the\nancient sceptics. Both restricted certain knowledge to our own states\nof consciousness; but it now appeared that this might be done without\nimpeaching the value of accepted scientific conclusions, which was\nmore than the Academic philosophy would have admitted. In other words,\ngranting that we were limited to phenomena, it was shown that science\nconsisted in ascertaining the relations of these phenomena to one\nanother, instead of to a problematic reality lying behind them; while,\nthat such relations existed and were, in fact, part of the phenomena\nthemselves, was what no sceptic could easily deny.\n\nNevertheless, in each case, subjective idealism had the effect of\nconcentrating speculation, properly so called, on ethical and practical\ninterests. Locke struck the keynote of eighteenth century philosophy\nwhen he pronounced morality to be \u2018the proper science and business\nof mankind in general.\u2019[574] And no sooner had morality come to the\nfront than the significance of ancient thought again made itself\napparent. Whether through conscious imitation, or because the same\ncauses brought about the same effects, ethical enquiries moved along\nthe lines originally laid down in the schools of Athens. When rules of\nconduct were not directly referred to a divine revelation, they were\nbased either on a supposed law of Nature, or on the necessities of\nhuman happiness, or on some combination of the two. Nothing is more\ncharacteristic of the eighteenth century than its worship of Nature.\nEven the theology of the age is deeply coloured by it; and with the\nmajority of those who rejected theology it became a new religion.\nBut this sentiment is demonstrably of Greek origin, and found its\nmost elaborate, though not its most absolute, expression in Stoicism.\nThe Stoics had inherited it from the Cynics, who held the faith in\ngreater purity; and these, again, so far as we can judge, from a\ncertain Sophistic school, some fragments of whose teaching have been\npreserved by Xenophon and Plato; while the first who gave wide currency\nto this famous abstraction was, in all probability, Heracleitus. To\nthe Stoics, however, is due that intimate association of naturalism\nwith teleology which meets us again in the philosophy of the last\ncentury, and even now wherever the doctrine of evolution has not been\nthoroughly accepted. It was assumed, in the teeth of all evidence, that\nNature bears the marks of a uniformly beneficent design, that evil is\nexclusively of human origin, and that even human nature is essentially\ngood when unspoiled by artificial restrictions.\n\nYet if teleology was, in some respects, a falling-off from the rigid\nmechanicism first taught by the pre-Socratic schools and then again by\nthe Cartesian school, in at least one respect it marked a comparative\nprogress. For the first attempts made both by ancient and modern\nphilosophy to explain vital phenomena on purely mechanical principles\nwere altogether premature; and the immense extension of biological\nknowledge which took place subsequently to both, could not but bring\nabout an irresistible movement in the opposite direction. The first\nto revive teleology was Leibniz, who furnished a transition from the\nseventeenth to the eighteenth century by his monadology. In this,\nAtomism is combined with Aristotelian ideas, just as it had previously\nbeen combined with Platonic ideas by Descartes. The movement of the\natoms is explained by their aspiration after a more perfect state\ninstead of by mechanical pressure. But while Leibniz still relies on\nthe ontological argument of Descartes to prove the existence of God,\nthis was soon abandoned, along with the cosmological argument, for the\nargument from design, which was also that used by the Stoics; while in\nethics the fitness of things was substituted for the more mechanical\nlaw of self-preservation, as the rule of conduct; and the subjection of\nall impulse to reason was replaced by the milder principle of a control\nexercised by the benevolent over the malevolent instincts. This was a\nvery distinct departure from the Stoic method, yet those who made it\nwere more faithful to teleology than Stoicism had been; for to condemn\nhuman feeling altogether was implicitly to condemn the work of Nature\nor of God.\n\nThe other great ethical method of the eighteenth century, its hedonism,\nwas closely connected with the sceptical movement in speculative\nphilosophy, and, like that, received an entirely new significance by\nbecoming associated with the idea of law. Those who isolate man from\nthe universe are necessarily led to seek in his interests as such the\nsole regulator of his actions, and their sole sanction in the opinion\nof his fellows. Protagoras went already so far, notwithstanding his\nunwillingness to recognise pleasure as the supreme end; and in the\nsystem of his true successor, Aristippus, the most extreme hedonism\ngoes hand in hand with the most extreme idealism; while with Epicurus,\nagain, both are tempered by the influence of naturalism, imposing on\nhim its conceptions of objective law alike in science and in practice.\nStill his system leaned heavily to the side of self-gratification\npure and simple; and it was reserved for modern thought to establish\na complete equilibrium between the two competing tendencies of Greek\nethics. This has been effected in Utilitarianism; and those critics\nare entirely mistaken who, like M. Guyau, regard that system as a\nmere reproduction of Epicureanism. It might with full as much reason\nbe called a modern version of Stoicism. The idea of humanity is\nessentially Stoic; to work for the good of humanity was a Stoic\nprecept; and to sacrifice one\u2019s own pleasure for that higher good is\na virtue which would have satisfied the most rigorous demands of a\nCleanthes, an Epict\u00eatus, or an Aurelius.\n\nUtilitarianism agrees with the ancient hedonism in holding pleasure to\nbe the sole good and pain the sole evil. Its adherents also, for the\nmost part, admit that the desire of the one and the dread of the other\nare the sole motives to action; but, while making the end absolutely\nuniversal and impersonal, they make the motive into a momentary\nimpulse, without any necessary relation to the future happiness of\nthe agent himself. The good man does his duty because doing it gives\nhim pleasure, or because the failure to do it would give him pain, at\nthe moment; although he knows that a contrary course would save him\nfrom greater pain or win him greater pleasure hereafter. No accurate\nthinker would call this acting from a selfish or interested motive; nor\ndoes it agree with the teaching of Epicurus. Were all sensitive beings\nto be united in a single organism, then, on utilitarian principles,\nself-interest, interpreted in the sense of seeking its own preservation\nand pleasure, would be the only law that the individualised aggregate\ncould rationally obey. But the good of each part would be rigorously\nsubordinated to the good of the whole; and utilitarian morality desires\nthat we should act as if this hypothesis were realised, at least in\nreference to our own particular interests. Now, the idea of humanity\nas forming such a consolidated whole is not Epicurean. It belongs to\nthe philosophy which always reprobated pleasure, precisely because its\npursuit is associated with the dereliction of public duty and with\nbitter rivalry for the possession of what, by its very nature, exists\nonly in limited quantities, while the demand for it is unlimited or, at\nany rate, far exceeds the supply. According to the Stoics, there was\nonly one way in which the individual could study his private interest\nwithout abandoning his position as a social being, and this was to find\nit exclusively in the practice of virtue.[575] But virtue and public\ninterest remained mere forms scantily supplemented by appeals to the\ntraditional morality, until the idea of generalised happiness, of\npleasure diffused through the whole community, came to fill them with\nsubstance and life.\n\nIt has also to be observed that the idea of utility as a test of moral\ngoodness is quite distinct from hedonism. Plato proclaims, in the most\nunequivocal terms, that actions must be estimated by their consequences\ninstead of by the feelings of sympathy or antipathy which they excite;\nyet no one could object more strongly to making pleasure the end of\naction. Thus, three distinct doctrines seem to converge in modern\nEnglish ethics, of which all are traceable to Greek philosophy, but\nonly one to Epicureanism in particular, and not ultimately to that but\nto the older systems whence it sprang.\n\nAnd here we unexpectedly find ourselves confronted by a new relation\nbetween ancient and modern thought. Each acts as a powerful precipitant\non the other, dissolving what might otherwise have passed for\ninseparable associations, and combining elements which a less complete\nexperience might have led us to regard as necessarily incompatible with\none another. The instance just analysed is highly significant; nor\ndoes it stand alone. Modern spiritualists often talk as if morality\nwas impossible apart from their peculiar metaphysics. But the Stoics,\nconfessedly the purest moralists of antiquity, were uncompromising\nmaterialists; while the spiritualist Aristotle taught what is not\neasily distinguishable from a very refined sort of egoism. Again, the\ndoctrine of free-will is now commonly connected with a belief in the\nseparability of consciousness from matter, and, like that, is declared\nto be an indispensable condition of morality. Among the Greeks,\nhowever, it was held by the materialist Epicureans more distinctly\nthan by any other school; while the Stoics did not find necessarianism\ninconsistent with self-sacrificing virtue. The partial derivation\nof knowledge from an activity in our own minds is another supposed\nconcomitant of spiritualism; although Aristotle traces every idea to\nan external source, while at the same time holding some cognitions to\nbe necessarily true\u2014a theory repudiated by modern experientialists. To\nPlato, the spirituality of the soul seemed to involve its pre-existence\nno less than its immortality, a consequence not accepted by his modern\nimitators. Teleology is now commonly opposed to pantheism; the two were\nclosely combined in Stoicism; while Aristotle, although he believed\nin a personal God, attributed the marks of design in Nature to purely\nunconscious agencies.\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe naturalism and utilitarianism of the eighteenth century are the\nlast conceptions directly inherited from ancient philosophy by modern\nthought. Henceforward, whatever light the study of the former can\nthrow on the vicissitudes of the latter is due either to their partial\nparallelism, or to an influence becoming every day fainter and more\ndifficult to trace amid the multitude of factors involved. The progress\nof analytical criticism was continually deflected or arrested by the\nstill powerful resistance of scholasticism, just as the sceptical\ntendencies of the New Academy had been before, though happily with\nless permanent success; and as, in antiquity, this had happened within\nno less than without the critical school, so also do we find Locke\nclinging to the theology of Descartes; Berkeley lapsing into Platonism;\nHume playing fast and loose with his own principles; and Kant leaving\nit doubtful to which side he belongs, so evenly are the two opposing\ntendencies balanced in his mind, so dexterously does he adapt the new\ncriticism to the framework of scholastic logic and metaphysics.\n\nMeanwhile the strength of the analytical method was doubled by its\nextension to the phenomena of growth and change; for, as applied to\nthese, it became the famous theory of Development or Evolution. No\nidea belongs so completely to modern philosophy; for even the ancient\nthinkers who threw their cosmology into a historical form had never\nattempted to explain the present by the past. If anything, they\nexplained the past by the present, assuming a rough analogy to exist\nbetween the formation of the universe as a whole and the genesis of\nthose natural or artificial bodies which were continually growing or\nbeing built up before their eyes. Their cosmology was, in fact, nothing\nbut the old mythology stripped of its personal or conscious element;\nand, like it, was a hypothesis unsupported by any external evidence;\u2014a\ncriticism not inconsistent with the admission that to eliminate the\nsupernatural element from speculation was, even in the absence of any\nsolid addition to human knowledge, an achievement of inestimable value.\nThe evolutionary method is also an elimination of the supernatural, but\nit is a great deal more. By tracing the history of compound structures\nto their first origin, and noting the successive increments to which\ntheir gradual growth is due, it reveals, as no statical analysis ever\ncould, the actual order of synthesis, and the meaning of the separate\nconstituents by whose joint action their movements are determined;\nwhile, conversely, their dissolution supplies us with a number of\nready-made experiments in which the influence of each particular factor\nin the sum total may be detected by watching the changes that ensue\non its removal. In a word, the method of evolution is the atomistic\nmethod, extended from matter to motion, and viewed under the form of\nsuccession instead of under the form of co-existence.\n\nAs a universal philosophy, the theory of Development, like every other\nmodern idea, has only been permitted to manifest itself in combination\nwith different forms of the old scholasticism. The whole speculative\nmovement of our century is made up of such hybrid systems; and three,\nin particular, still divide the suffrages of many thinking men who\nhave not been able entirely to shake off the influence of reactionary\nideas. These are the systems of Hegel, of Comte, and of Mr. Herbert\nSpencer. In each, the logic and metaphysics inherited from Greek\nthought are variously compounded with the new science. And each, for\nthat very reason, serves to facilitate the transition from one to the\nother; a part analogous to that played among the Greeks themselves by\nthe vast constructions of Plato and Aristotle, or, in an age of less\nproductivity, by the Stoic and Alexandrian philosophies.\n\nThe influence of Aristotle has, indeed, continued to make itself\nfelt not only through the teaching of his modern imitators, but more\ndirectly as a living tradition in literature, or through the renewed\nstudy of his writings at first hand. Even in the pure sciences, it\nsurvived until a comparatively recent period, and, so far as the French\nintellect goes, it is not yet entirely extinct. From Ab\u00e9lard on, Paris\nwas the headquarters of that soberer scholasticism which took its cue\nfrom the Peripatetic logic; and the resulting direction of thought,\ndeeply impressed as it became on the French character and the French\nlanguage, was interrupted rather than permanently altered by the\nCartesian revolution, and, with the fall of Cartesianism, gradually\nrecovered its old predominance. The Aristotelian philosophy is\nremarkable above all others for clear definitions, full descriptions,\ncomprehensive classifications, lucid reasoning, encyclopaedic science,\nand disinterested love of knowledge; along with a certain incapacity\nfor ethical speculation,[576] strong conservative leanings, and\na general tendency towards the rigid demarcation rather than the\nfruitful commingling of ideas. And it will probably be admitted that\nthese are also traits characteristic of French thinking as opposed\nto English or German thinking. For instance, widely different as is\nthe _M\u00e9canique C\u00e9leste_ from the astronomy of Aristotle\u2019s treatise\n_On the Heavens_, both agree in being attempts to prove the eternal\nstability of the celestial system.[577] The destructive deluges by\nwhich Aristotle supposes civilisation to be periodically interrupted,\nreappear on a larger scale in the theory of catastrophes still held by\nFrench geologists. Another Aristotelian dogma, the fixity of organic\nspecies, though vigorously assailed by eminent French naturalists, has,\non the whole, triumphed over the opposite doctrine of transformism in\nFrance, and now impedes the acceptance of Darwin\u2019s teaching even in\ncircles where theological prepossessions are extinct. The accepted\nclassifications in botany and zoology are the work of Frenchmen\nfollowing in the footsteps of Aristotle, whose genius for methodical\narrangement was signally exemplified in at least one of these\ndepartments; the division of animals into vertebrate and invertebrate\nbeing originally due to him. Bichat\u2019s distinction between the animal\nand the vegetable functions recalls Aristotle\u2019s distinction between\nthe sensitive and nutritive souls; while his method of studying the\ntissues before the organs is prefigured in the treatise on the _Parts\nof Animals_. For a long time, the ruling of Aristotle\u2019s _Poetics_\nwas undisputed in French criticism; and if anything could disentitle\nMontesquieu\u2019s _Esprit des Lois_ to the proud motto, _Prolem sine matre\ncreatam_, it would be its close relationship to the _Politics_ of the\nsame universal master. Finally, if it be granted that the enthusiasm\nfor knowledge, irrespective of its utilitarian applications, exists\nto a greater degree among the educated classes of France than in any\nother modern society, we may plausibly attribute this honourable\ncharacteristic to the fostering influence of one who has proclaimed\nmore eloquently than any other philosopher that theoretical activity is\nthe highest good of human life, the ideal of all Nature, and the sole\nbeatitude of God.\n\nIt remains to add a few words on the position which ancient and modern\nphilosophy respectively occupy towards theology. Here their relation is\none of contrast rather than of resemblance. The Greek thinkers start at\nan immense distance from religious belief, and their first allusions\nto it are marked by a scornful denial of its validity. Gradually, with\nthe transition from physical to ethical enquiries, an approximation\nbetween the two is brought about, though not without occasional returns\nto their former attitude of hostility. Finally, in presence of a common\ndanger they become interwoven and almost identified with one another;\nwhile the new religion against which they make common cause, itself\npresents the same spectacle of metaphysical and moral ideas entering\ninto combination with the spontaneous products of popular mythology.\nAnd be it observed that throughout the whole of this process action\nand reaction were equal and contrary. The decline and corruption of\nphilosophy was the price paid for the elevation and purification\nof religion. While the one was constantly sinking, the other was\nconstantly rising, until they converged on the plane of dogmatic\ntheology. By the very circumstances of the case, an opposite course has\nbeen imposed on the development of modern philosophy. Starting from\nan intimate union with religion, it slowly disengages itself from the\ncompromising alliance; and, although, here also, the normal course of\nideas has been interrupted by frequent reactions, the general movement\nof European thought has been no less decidedly towards a complete\nemancipation from the popular beliefs than the movement of Greek\nthought had been towards their conciliation and support.\n\n\n_Spottiswoode & Co., Printers, New-street Square, London._\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] See Vol. I., pp. 78-83.\n\n[2] Aristotle, _Metaph._, VIII., iii., 1043, b, 25.\n\n[3] Zeller, _Phil. d. Gr._, II., a, 277.\n\n[4] Diog. L., VI., 3.\n\n[5] According to the very probable conjecture of Zeller, _l. c._\n\n[6] Zeller, _l. c._; Diog. L., VI., 12.\n\n[7] Diog., VI., 3.\n\n[8] For the authorities, see Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 263.\n\n[9] Diog., IX., 62.\n\n[10] _Metaph._, IV., iv., 1008, b, 12 ff.\n\n[11] _Diss._, III., xxii.\n\n[12] Diog., VIII., i. ff.\n\n[13] Diog., VI., 96.\n\n[14] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, 29.\n\n[15] Diog., VII., 5.\n\n[16] Diog., VII., 183.\n\n[17] _Ibid._, 179.\n\n[18] _Ibid._, 25.\n\n[19] _Ibid._, 180 L.\n\n[20] Plutarch, _De Stoic. Repug._, iii., 2.\n\n[21] It is significant that the only Stoic who fell back on pure\nCynicism should have been Aristo of Chios, a genuine Greek, while\nthe only one who, like Aristotle, identified good with knowledge was\nHerillus, a Carthaginian.\n\n[22] _Op. cit._, p. 18, cf. p. 362.\n\n[23] Diog., VII., 144 ff.\n\n[24] Posidonius estimated the sun\u2019s distance from the earth at\n500,000,000 stades, and the moon\u2019s distance at 2,000,000 stades, which,\ncounting the stade at 200 yards, gives about 57,000,000 and 227,000\nmiles respectively. The sun\u2019s diameter he reckoned, according to one\naccount, at 440,000 miles, about half the real amount; according to\nanother account at a quarter less. Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 190, Note 2.\n\n[25] For the authorities, see Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 139, Note 1.\n\n[26] Zeller, p. 155.\n\n[27] The Stoic necessarianism gave occasion to a repartee which has\nremained classical ever since, although its original authorship is\nknown to few. A slave of Zeno\u2019s, on receiving chastisement for a theft,\ntried to excuse himself by quoting his master\u2019s principle that he was\nfated to steal. \u2018And to be flogged for it,\u2019 replied the philosopher,\ncalmly continuing his predestined task. (Diog., VII., 23.)\n\n[28] _Soph._, 247, D.\n\n[29] Plutarch, _De Comm. Notit._, xxx., 2; Cicero, _Acad._, I., xi.,\n39; Diog., VII., 150; Zeller, p. 117.\n\n[30] Plutarch, _De Stoic. Repug._, xliii., 4.\n\n[31] Zeller, p. 201, ff.\n\n[32] Cicero, _De Nat. Deor._, II., xv., 39.\n\n[33] Sextus Empiricus, _Adv. Math._, IX., 18.\n\n[34] Cicero, _De Nat. Deor._, I., xiii., 32.\n\n[35] Zeller, p. 309 ff.\n\n[36] See Cicero, _De Divinatione_, I., _passim_.\n\n[37] Plutarch, _De Placit. Phil._, IV., xi.\n\n[38] This seems the best explanation of the various statements on the\nsubject made by our authorities, for which see Zeller, pp. 71-86.\n\n[39] Sextus Emp., _Adv. Math._, VIII., 375.\n\n[40] Zeller, p. 109.\n\n[41] Zeller, p. 93.\n\n[42] Stobaeus, _Eclog._, II., p. 132, quoted by Ritter and Preller, p.\n394; Diog., VII., 89.\n\n[43] \u2018Quid est sapientia? Semper idem velle atque idem nolle. Licet\nillam exceptiunculam non adicias ut rectum sit quod velis. Non potest\ncuiquam semper idem placere nisi rectum.\u2019 Seneca, _Epist._, xx., 4.\n\n[44] Cicero, _De Fin._, I., ix., 30. In this he followed the Cyrenaics;\nsee Diog., II., 87.\n\n[45] Sextus Emp., _Adv. Math._, XI., 73.\n\n[46] \u2018Das platonische Gedicht vom himmlischen Gottesstaat hatte durch\ndiestoische Auffassung der Welt als eines vom G\u00f6ttlichen durchdrungenen\nund beseelten K\u00f6rpers einen Leib bekommen, in dessen zwingenden\nOrganismus der Einzelne als Glied beschlossen ist und sich f\u00fcgen muss.\u2019\nBruno Bauer, _Christus u. d. C\u00e4saren_, p. 328.\n\n[47] Zeller, p. 168, Note 2.\n\n[48] Diog., VII., vii., 85.\n\n[49] Gellius, _Noct. Att._, XII., v., 7, quoted by Ritter and Preller,\np. 395.\n\n[50] _Dissert._, I., xix., II.\n\n[51] _Ibid._, xxii., 9, ff.\n\n[52] Cicero, _Tusc. Disput._, IV., xix. ff.\n\n[53] Cic., _Tusc. Disput._, IV., vi.\n\n[54] Zeller, p. 229.\n\n[55] See the _Dissertations_ of Epict\u00eatus throughout.\n\n[56] Plutarch, _De Communibus Notitiis_, cap. xxxiii., p. 1076 B.\n\n[57] Cf. Zeller, p. 583.\n\n[58] Zeller, pp. 260-1.\n\n[59] _Ibid._, pp. 267-8.\n\n[60] _Ibid._, p. 270.\n\n[61] Cicero, _De Fin._, III., xvii., 58; _Acad._, I., x., 37; _De\nOff._, I., iii., 8.\n\n[62] _De Off._, I., vi.\n\n[63] I., viii.\n\n[64] I., xviii-xxiii.\n\n[65] _Pyrrh. Hyp._, III., 201.\n\n[66] Cic., _De Off._, III., xxiii., 91.\n\n[67] Cic., _De Off._, III., xii., 51.\n\n[68] _Ibid._, xxiii., 89.\n\n[69] Plutarch, _De Comm. Notit._, xi., 8.\n\n[70] Cf. Zeller, pp. 263-4, 278-84.\n\n[71] Diog., VII., 130; Cic., _De Fin._, III., xviii., 60; Zeller, pp.\n305-9.\n\n[72] Diog., VII., 31, 176.\n\n[73] Plutarch, _De Stoic. Repug._, xviii., 5.\n\n[74] \u2018Omnia scelera, etiam ante effectum operis, quantum culpae satis\nest, perfecta sunt.\u2019\u2014Seneca, _De Const. Sap._, vii., 4. Cf. Zeno _apud_\nSext. Emp., _Adv. Math._, XI., 190.\n\n[75] \u2018Prope est a te Deus, tecum est, intus est ... sacer intra\nnos spiritus sedet bonorum malorumque nostrorum observator et\ncustos.\u2019\u2014Seneca, _Epp._, xli., 1. Cf. Horace, _Epp._, I., i., 61;\nLucan, IX., 573; Persius, III., 43; Juvenal, XIII., 192-235.\n\n[76] It may be desirable to give some reasons in support of this\nopinion, as the contrary has been stated by scholars writing within a\ncomparatively recent period. Thus Welcker says: \u2018Das Gewissen ward bei\nden Griechen als ein g\u00f6ttliches Wesen, Erinys, gescheut und wie wir es\nsonst nicht finden, zur Gottheit erhoben\u2019 (_Griechische G\u00f6tterlehre_,\nI., 233); and again (p. 699) \u2018\u1f18\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03cd\u03c2 ... ist das Gewissen.\u2019 Similarly,\nM. Alfred Maury observes that, \u2018les remords se personnifiaient sous\nla forme de d\u00e9esses Erinnyies, charg\u00e9es de punir tous les forfaits\u2019\n(_Histoire des Religions de la Gr\u00e8ce Antique_, I., 342). And Preller,\nwhile entertaining sounder views respecting their origin, contents\nhimself with the caution that, \u2018Man sich h\u00fcten muss die Furien blos\nfur die subjectiven M\u00e4chte des menschlichen Gewissen zu halten\u2019\n(_Griechische Mythologie_, I., 686, 3rd ed.). Now, in the first place,\nthe Erinyes did not punish all crime, as they ought to have done had\nthey represented conscience. According to Aeschylus (_Eumen._, 604-5),\nthey considered that the murder of her husband by Clytaemnestra was no\naffair of theirs, there being no blood relationship between the parties\nconcerned. They did not persecute Electra, who, short of striking the\nfatal blow, had as much hand in her mother\u2019s death as Orestes. And\neven when a father was killed by his son, they do not always seem\nto have taken up the matter; for in the _Odyssey_ it is not by the\nErinyes of Laius, but by those of Epicast\u00ea that Oedipus is pursued\u2014a\nconception very unlike that of Sophocles, who makes him feel as much\nremorse for the parricide as for the incest and its consequences. In\nthe next place, the Erinyes are let loose not by the action itself but\nby the curses of the injured or offended blood-relation, as we see\nby Homer, _Il._, IX., 454 and 566; which seems to show that if they\npersonified anything human it was the imprecations of the victim, not\nthe self-reproach of the aggressor. Thirdly, the Orestes of Aeschylus,\nso far from feeling conscience-smitten, disclaims all responsibility\nfor his mother\u2019s death, inflicted as it was in consequence of a\ndirect command from the higher gods, accompanied by threats of heavy\npunishment in case of disobedience. (_Eumen._, 443 ff.). And, finally,\nthe office assigned to the Erinyes of seeing that the laws of nature\nare not broken (vol. I., 67) shows that the Greeks conceived their\nexistence as something altogether objective and physical. [There\nis a short but very sensible account of the Erinyes in Keightley\u2019s\n_Mythology_, p. 175, 4th ed.]\n\n[77] Cicero, _De Off._, I., xxxi.; Epict\u00eatus, _Man._, 17, _b._, 30;\n_Diss._, I., ii., 33; xvi., 20; xxix., 39; II., v., 10; _ib._, 21; x.,\n4, xiv., 8; xxiii., 38; xxv., 22; Antoninus, _Comm._, VI., 39, 43; IX.,\n29; cf. Seneca, _Epp._, lxxxv., 34, and the saying of Marcus Aurelius\nquoted by Dion Cassius (_Epit._, LXXI., xxxiv., 4), that we cannot make\nmen what we wish them to be; we can only turn what faculties they have\nto the best account in working for the public good.\n\n[78] For the references to these and other similar passages, see the\nlast note.\n\n[79] Plutarch, _De Alex. Virt._, I., vi.; Diog., VII., 33.\n\n[80] It need hardly be observed that here also the morality of natural\nlaw has attained its highest artistic development under the hand of\nGeorge Eliot\u2014sometimes even to the neglect of purely artistic effect,\nas in _Daniel Deronda_ and the _Spanish Gypsy_.\n\n[81] Zeller, p. 297, followed by Mr. Capes, in his excellent little\nwork on Stoicism (p. 51).\n\n[82] Seneca, _De Ir\u00e2_, I., v., 2 ff.; II., xxxi., 7; _De Clem._, I.,\niii., 2; De _Benef._, IV., xxvi., I, _Epp._, xcv., 51 ff.; Epict\u00eatus,\n_Diss._, IV., v., 10; Antoninus, VII., 13; together with the additional\nreferences given by Zeller, p. 286 ff. It is to be observed that the\nmutual love attributed to human beings by the Stoic philosophers\nstands, not for an empirical characteristic, but for an unrealised\nidea of human nature. The actual feelings of men towards one another\nare described by Seneca in language recalling that of Schopenhauer and\nLeopardi. \u2018Erras,\u2019 he exclaims, \u2018si istorum tibi qui occurrunt vultibus\ncredis: hominum effigies habent, animos ferarum: nisi quod illarum\nperniciosior est primus incursus. Nunquam enim illas ad nocendum nisi\nnecessitas inicit: aut fame aut timore coguntur ad pugnam: homini\nperdere hominem libet.\u2019\u2014_Epp._, ciii., 2.\n\n[83] Plato, _Protagoras_, 337, D.\n\n[84] \u2018He [Charles Austin] presented the Benthamic doctrines in the\nmost startling form of which they were susceptible, exaggerating\neverything in them which tended to consequences offensive to any one\u2019s\npreconceived feelings.\u2019\u2014Mill\u2019s _Autobiography_, p. 78.\n\n[85] Zeller, p. 281.\n\n[86] \u2018Homo sacra res homini jam per lusum et jocum occiditur ...\nsatisque spectaculi ex homine mors est.\u2019\u2014Seneca, _Epp._, xcv., 33.\n\u2018Servi sunt? Immo homines. Servi sunt? Immo contubernales. Servi sunt?\nImmo humiles amici. Servi sunt? Immo conservi.\u2019\u2014_Ibid._, xlvii., 1.\nCompare the treatise _De Ir\u00e2_, _passim_.\n\n[87] Seneca once lets falls the words, \u2018fortuna aequo jure genitos\nalium alii donavit.\u2019\u2014_Consol. ad Marciam_, xx, 2; but this is the only\nexpression of the kind that we have been able to discover in a Stoic\nwriter of the empire.\n\n[88] Seneca, _Epp._, lxxx.\n\n[89] \u2018L\u2019empereur avait pour principe de maintenir les anciennes maximes\nromaines dans leur int\u00e9grit\u00e9.\u2019 (Renan\u2019s _Marc-Aur\u00e8le_, p. 54.) The\nauthority given by M. Renan is Dion Cass., LXXI., xxxiv.; where,\nhowever, there is nothing of the kind stated. Capitolinus says (_Anton.\nPhil._, cap. xi.): \u2018Jus autem magis vetus restituit quam novum fecit.\u2019\n\n[90] Renan, p. 30; Capitolinus, _Anton. Phil._, xii.; Dion Cass.,\n_Epit._, LXXI., xxix., 3.\n\n[91] Antoninus, _Comm._, VI., 46; X., 8.\n\n[92] The expressions used by M. Ernest Renan when treating of\nthis subject are somewhat conflicting. In reference to the penal\nenactments against Christianity under Marcus Aurelius, he first\nstates that, however objectionable they may have been, \u2018en tout cas\ndans l\u2019application la mansu\u00e9tude du bon empereur fut \u00e0 l\u2019abri de tout\nreproche\u2019 (_Marc-Aur\u00e8le_, p. 58.) Further on, however we are told that\nwhen the martyrs of Lyons appealed to Rome, \u2018la r\u00e9ponse imp\u00e9riale\narriva en fin. Elle \u00e9tait dure et cruelle.\u2019 (p. 329.) And subsequently\nM. Renan makes the Emperor personally responsible for the atrocities\npractised on that occasion by observing, \u2018Si Marc-Aur\u00e8le, au lieu\nd\u2019employer les lions et la chaise rougie,\u2019 &c. (p. 345.) But perhaps\nsuch inconsistencies are to be expected in a writer who has elevated\nthe necessity of perpetual self-contradiction into a principle.\n\n[93] Epict\u00eatus, _Diss._, III., xxiv.\n\n[94] Seneca, _De Ir\u00e2_, I., xiv., 2; _De Clement._, I., vi., 2.\n\n[95] Diog., VII., 91. Ziegler (_Gesch. d. Ethik_, Bonn, 1882, I.,\n174) holds, in opposition to Zeller, that originally every Stoic, as\nsuch, was assumed to be a perfect sage, and that the question was only\nwhether the ideal had ever been realised outside the school. This,\nhowever, goes against the evidence of Plutarch, who tells as (_De\nStoic. Repug._, xxxi., 5) that Chrysippus neither professed to be good\nhimself nor supposed that any of his friends or teachers or disciples\nwas good.\n\n[96] Seneca, _Epp._, cxvi., 4. It must be borne in mind that Panaetius\nwas speaking at a time when the object of passion would at best be\neither another man\u2019s wife or a member of the _demi-monde_.\n\n[97] _Comm._, VII., 26; XII., 16.\n\n[98] See especially Antoninus, _Comm._, IX., 1.\n\n[99] Friedl\u00e4nder, _R\u00f6mische Sittengeschichte_, I., 463; Duruy,\n_Histoire des Romains_, V., 349 ff., 370; cf. Gaston Boissier, _La\nReligion Romaine_, II., 152 ff., 212 ff.\n\n[100] This idea is most distinctly expressed by Marcus Aurelius, II.,\n1, and VII., 13.\n\n[101] For the authorities, see Zeller, p. 176.\n\n[102] See especially Seneca, _Epp._, lxiv., and the whole treatise _De\nProvidenti\u00e2_.\n\n[103] See, _inter alia_, _Comm._, IV., 3; VI., 15, 37; VII., 21, 49;\nXI., 1; XII., 7, 21, 23, 24, 26, 31, 32.\n\n[104] _Comm._, XI., 28, xii. 14. A modern disciple of Aurelius has\nexpressed himself to the same purpose in slightly different language:\u2014\n\n        \u2018Long fed on boundless hopes, O race of man,\n        How angrily thou spurn\u2019st all simpler fare!\n        \u201cChrist,\u201d some one says, \u201cwas human as we are.\n        No judge eyes us from heaven our sin to scan;\n        We live no more, when we have done our span.\u201d\n        \u201cWell, then, for Christ,\u201d thou answerest, \u201cwho can care?\n        From sin, which Heaven records not, why forbear?\n        Live we, like brutes, our life without a plan!\u201d\n        So answerest thou; but why not rather say:\n        \u201cHath man no second life?\u2014_Pitch this one high!_\n        Sits there no judge in Heaven, our sin to see?\n        _More strictly, then, the inward judge obey!_\n        Was Christ a man like us?\u2014_Ah! let us try\n        If we then, too, can be such men as he!_\u201d\u2019\n\n        \u2014_The Better Part_, by Mr. Matthew Arnold.\n                  The italics are in the original.\n\n    [105] _First Principles_, \u00a7 177.\n\n    [106] See an article entitled \u2018Pantheism and Cosmic Emotion,\u2019 by\n    Frederic Harrison, in the _Nineteenth Century_ for August, 1881.\n\n    [107] From the Hymn of Cleanthes, translated by Mr. Francis Newman in\n    _The Soul_, p. 73, fifth edition.\n\n    [108] _Epicureanism_, p. 1.\n\n    [109] _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, p. 380.\n\n    [110] _Op. cit._, p. 72.\n\n    [111] _Short Studies_, III., p. 246.\n\n    [112] _Gesch. des Mater._, I., p. 92.\n\n    [113] Pollock\u2019s _Spinoza_, p. 64.\n\n    [114] _Epicuro e l\u2019Epicurismo_, Florence, 1877, p. 29.\n\n    [115] _Lucretii Philosophia cum fontibus comparata_, Groningen, 1877,\n    p. 137.\n\n    [116] _Dialogues Philosophiques_, p. 54, quoted by Woltjer, _loc. cit._\n\n    [117] Diog. L., X., 142.\n\n    [118] _Ibid._, 113.\n\n    [119] Diog. L., X., 134.\n\n    [120] Cicero, _Acad._, II., xxxiii., 106.\n\n    [121] Cicero, _De Fin._, II., xxx., 96; _Diog._, X., 22. Cicero\n    translates the words \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u1fc3, \u2018memoria rationum inventorumque\n    nostrorum.\u2019 They may refer merely to the pleasure derived from\n    intellectual conversation.\n\n    [122] The authorities for the life of Epicurus are given by Zeller,\n    _op. cit._, p. 363 ff.\n\n    [123] Diog., II., 92.\n\n    [124] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, II., a, 294.\n\n    [125] Cf. Plato, _Protag._, 353, C, ff., with Epicurus in the letter to\n    Menoeceus, quoted by Diog., X., 129.\n\n    [126] _Morale d\u2019\u00c9picure_, p. 20.\n\n    [127] Wallace\u2019s _\u00c9picureanism_, p. 154; Guyau, _Morale d\u2019\u00c9picure_, p.\n    34.\n\n    [128] Cicero, _Tusc. Disput._, III., xviii., 41; Zeller, III., a, p.\n    444.\n\n    [129] Zeller, p. 460.\n\n    [130] _Ibid._, p. 581.\n\n    [131] Diog., II., 72.\n\n    [132] Diog., X., 131.\n\n    [133] Guyau, _Morale d\u2019\u00c9picure_, p. 55.\n\n    [134] Diog., X., 118.\n\n    [135] Lucret., IV., 1057-66.\n\n    [136] Diog., X., 117, 118.\n\n    [137] Cicero, _De Fin._, V., xxvii., 80; Diog., X., 118.\n\n    [138] That is, if we assume what Aristotle says on the subject to be\n    derived from common usage (_Eth. Nic._, III., ix., p. 1115, a, 33).\n\n    [139] Cicero, _Tusc. Disp._, II., xii., 28.\n\n    [140] Cicero, _De Fin._, I., xv.; _Tusc._, V., xxviii.\n\n    [141] Diog., X., 150 ff.\n\n    [142] Wallace, p. 162; Diog., X., 150.\n\n    [143] _Epicureanism_, pp. 162-3.\n\n    [144] Cicero, _De Fin._, II., vii., 20; _De Nat. Deor._, I., xvii., 45,\n    xxx., 85.\n\n    [145] Diog., X., 150-1.\n\n    [146] V., 1145-59.\n\n    [147] Cicero, _De Fin._, II., xvii., 57.\n\n    [148] _Op. cit._, p. 163.\n\n    [149] The lamented Prof. T. H. Green may be mentioned as another\n    example of a high-minded thinker who was also an ardent and active\n    politician. With regard to antiquity, see the splendid roll of\n    public-spirited philosophers enumerated by Plutarch, _Adv. Col._,\n    xxxii.\n\n    [150] _Op. cit._, p. 164.\n\n    [151] J. S. Mill observed, in a conversation with Mr. John Morley,\n    reported by the latter, that \u2018in his youth mere negation of religion\n    was a firm bond of union, social and otherwise, between men who agreed\n    in nothing else.\u2019\u2014_Fortnightly Review_, vol. XIII., p. 675.\n\n    [152] Cicero, _De Nat. Deor._, L., 18-24.\n\n    [153] Woltjer, _Lucret. Ph._, p. 74.\n\n    [154] \u2018Das Staatsgesetz oder das dem Gesetz gleichkommende v\u00e4terliche\n    Herkommen bildet einen Gegensatz gegen ein abgeschlossenes Priesterthum\n    und dessen nat\u00fcrlichen Einfluss.\u2019 Welcker, _Gr. G\u00f6tterlehre_, II.,\n    p. 45. \u2018La religion romaine, comme toutes celles o\u00f9 domine l\u2019esprit\n    la\u00efque, diminue le r\u00f4le du pr\u00eatre.\u2019 Gaston Boissier, _La Religion\n    Romaine_, I., p. 16.\n\n    [155] This reminds one of the \u2018p\u00e8lerinages,\u2019 which figure along with\n    \u2018pigeon-shooting\u2019 among the attractions offered by French country\n    hotels to idle visitors.\n\n    [156] _Republic_, II., 364, C, ff; Jowett\u2019s transl., III., 234-5.\n    Elsewhere Plato proposes that these \u2018bestial persons\u2019 who persuade\n    others that the gods can be induced by magical incantations to pardon\n    crime, should be punished by imprisonment for life (_Legg_, X., 909, A,\n    f.).\n\n    [157] Villemain, _Life of Gregory VII._, Engl, transl., I., p. 305. As\n    a further illustration of the same subject, it may be mentioned that\n    there is a cemetery near Innsbruck (and probably many more like it\n    throughout the Tyrol) freely adorned with rude representations of souls\n    in purgatory, stretching out their hands for help from amid the flames.\n    The help is of course to be obtained by purchase from the priesthood.\n\n    [158] Lucret., I., 108-12.\n\n    [159] _Agamemnon_, 369 (Dindorf).\n\n    [160] Zeller, pp. 428-9.\n\n    [161] Prof. Sellar observes, as we think, with perfect truth,\n    that \u2018there is no necessary connexion between the atomic theory\n    of philosophy and that view of the ends and objects of life which\n    Lucretius derived from Epicurus.\u2019\u2014_Roman Poets of the Republic_, p.\n    348, 2nd ed.\n\n    [162] Lucret., I., 1020 ff.; V., 835 ff; IV., 780 ff.; V., 1023; V.,\n    1307 ff.\n\n    [163] That Democritus attributed weight to his atoms has been proved,\n    in opposition to Lewes and others, by Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, I., p. 713\n    (3rd ed.)\n\n    [164] Woltjer, _Lucr. Phil._, p. 38.\n\n    [165] Arist., _Phys._, IV., viii., 216, a, 20.\n\n    [166] II., 257 ff.\n\n    [167] Lucret., IV., 875 ff.\n\n    [168] Lucret., V., 437 ff.\n\n    [169] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, pp. 397-8. Reichel\u2019s transl., pp.\n    412-3 (1st ed.)\n\n    [170] Woltjer (_Lucret. Ph._, p. 126) charges Lucretius with having\n    misunderstood his master on this point. As the sun and moon appear\n    larger when near the horizon than at other times, Epicurus thought\n    that we then see them either as they really are or a little larger.\n    This, Lucretius, according to Woltjer, took to mean that their general\n    apparent size may be a little over or under their real size.\n\n    [171] Zeller, p. 413.\n\n    [172] See, for instance, Woltjer, _op. cit._, p. 88.\n\n    [173] Zeller, p. 443, note 3.\n\n    [174] Zeller, pp. 417-8.\n\n    [175] Diog., X., 125.\n\n    [176] III., 922.\n\n    [177] Cicero, _De Fin._, I., ix., 30.\n\n    [178] \u2018Aeque enim timent ne apud inferos sint, quam ne\n    nusquam.\u2019\u2014Seneca, _Epp._, lxxxii., 16.\n\n    [179] Cf. Plutarch, _Non posse suaviter vivi_, cap. xxvii.\n\n    [180] Among other feelings consequent on the first experience of death\n    among the posterity of Cain, the following are specified:\u2014\n\n        \u2018It seemed the light was never loved before,\n        Now each man said, \u201c\u2018Twill go and come no more.\u201d\n        No budding branch, no pebble from the brook,\n        No form, no shadow but new dearness took\n        From the one thought that life must have an end;\n        And the last parting now began to send\n        Diffusive dread through love and wedded bliss,\n        Thrilling them into finer tenderness.\u2018\n\n\n[181] III., 59 ff.\n\n[182] _Ethic._, Pars. IV., Prop. vii.\n\n[183] _Ethic. Nic._, III., xii., 1117, b, 10 ff. Sir Alexander Grant,\nin his note on the passage, appositely compares the character of\nWordsworth\u2019s Happy Warrior, who is \u2018More brave for this that he has\nmuch to love.\u2019\n\n[184] For the authorities, see Zeller, p. 388.\n\n[185] Lucret., IV., 354, 728, 761.\n\n[186] Such at least seems to be the theory rather obscurely set forth\nin Diog., X., 32.\n\n[187] Diog., X., 33, Sextus Emp., _Adv. Math._, VII., 211-16; Zeller,\np. 391.\n\n[188] For additional authorities see Zeller, pp. 385-95, and Wallace\u2019s\n_Epicureanism_, chap. x.\n\n[189] See Woltjer, _Lucr. Ph._, p. 141 ff.\n\n[190] _Morale d\u2019\u00c9picure_, p. 157.\n\n[191] In a fragment quoted by Sextus Empiricus, _Adv. Math._, IX., 54.\n\n[192] _Fragmenta Tragicorum_, Didot, p. 140.\n\n[193] Zeller, p. 416, note 1.\n\n[194] See the whole concluding portion of Lucr., bk. V.\n\n[195] Chiefly by Ritter, _Gesch. d. Phil._, IV., p. 94, on which see\nthe clear and convincing reply of Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 47.\n\n[196] For details we must refer to the masterly treatise of Dr.\nWoltjer, already cited more than once in the course of this chapter.\n\n[197] Cf. II., 18, with II., 172.\n\n[198] The single exception to this rule that can be quoted is, we\nbelieve, the argument against impassioned love derived from its\nenslaving influence (_quod alterius sub nutu degitur aetas_, V., 1116).\nBut to live under another\u2019s nod is a condition eminently unfavourable\nto the mental tranquillity which an Epicurean prized before all things;\nnor, in any case, does it seem to have counted for so much with\nLucretius as the \u2018damnation of expenses\u2019 which was no less formidable a\ndeterrent to him than to the \u2018unco guid\u2019 of Burns\u2019s satire.\n\n[199] V., 1153-4.\n\n[200] V., 1125.\n\n[201] Ziegler (_Gesch. a. Ethik_, I., p. 203) quotes Lucret., III.,\n136, to prove that the poet recognised the existence of mental\npleasures as such. But Lucretius only says that the mind has pleasures\nnot derived from an immediate external stimulus. This would apply\nperfectly to the imagination of sensual pleasure.\n\n[202] Woltjer, _op. cit._, p. 5.\n\n[203] IV., 966.\n\n[204] Woltjer, _op. cit._, pp. 178 ff.\n\n[205] There is an unquestionable coincidence between Lucretius, II., 69\nff. and Plato, _Legg._, 776 B, pointed out by Teichm\u00fcller, _Geschichte\nder Begriffe_, p. 177. Both may have drawn from some older source.\n\n[206] We think, however, that Prof. Sellar attributes more importance\nto this element in the Lucretian philosophy than it will bear. His\nwords are: \u2018The doctrine proclaimed by Lucretius was, that creation\nwas no result of a capricious or benevolent exercise of power, but of\ncertain processes extending through infinite time, by means of which\nthe atoms have at length been able to combine and work together in\naccordance with their ultimate conditions. The conception of these\nultimate conditions and of their relations to one another involves\nsome more vital agency than that of blind chance or an iron fatalism.\nThe foedera Naturai are opposed to the foedera fati. The idea of law\nin Nature as understood by Lucretius is not merely that of invariable\nsequence or concomitance of phenomena. It implies at least the further\nidea of a \u201csecreta facultas\u201d in the original elements.\u2018 (_Roman Poets\nof the Republic_, p. 335, 2nd ed.) The expression _secreta facultas_\noccurs, we believe, only once in the whole poem (I., 174), and is used\non that single occasion without any reference to the atoms, which do\nnot appear until a later stage of the exposition. Lucretius is proving\nthat whatever begins to exist must have a cause, and in support of\nthis principle he appeals to the fixed laws which govern the growth\nof plants. Each plant springs from a particular kind of seed, and so,\nhe argues, each seed must have a distinct or specific virtue of its\nown, which virtue he expresses by the words _secreta facultas_. But,\naccording to his subsequent teaching, this specific virtue depends on a\nparticular combination of the atoms, not on any spontaneous power which\nthey possess of grouping themselves together so as to form organic\ncompounds. With regard to the properties of the atoms themselves,\nLucretius enumerates them clearly enough. They are extension, figure,\nresistance, and motion; the last mentioned being divided into downward\ngravitation, lateral deflection, and the momenta produced by mutual\nimpact. Here we have nothing more than the two elements of \u2018iron\nfatalism\u2019 and \u2018blind chance\u2019 which Prof. Sellar regards as insufficient\nto account for the Lucretian scheme of creation; gravitation and\nmutual impact give the one, lateral deflection gives the other. Any\nfaculty over and above these could only be conceived under the form of\nconscious impulse, or of mutual attractions and repulsions exercised by\nthe atoms on one another. The first hypothesis is expressly rejected\nby the poet, who tells us (I., 1020) that the primordial elements are\ndestitute of consciousness, and have fallen into their present places\nthrough the agency of purely mechanical causes. The second hypothesis\nis nowhere alluded to in the most distant manner, it is contrary to\nthe whole spirit of Epicurean physics, it never occurred to a single\nthinker of antiquity, and to have conceived it at that time would\nhave needed more than the genius of a Newton. As a last escape it may\nbe urged that Lucretius believed in \u2018a sort of a something\u2019 which,\nlike the fourth element in the soul, he was not prepared to define.\nBut besides the utter want of evidence for such a supposition, what\nnecessity would there have been for the infinite chances which he\npostulates in order to explain how the actual system of things came\nto be evolved, had the elements been originally endowed with the\ndisposition to fall into such a system rather than into any other? For\nProf. Sellar\u2019s vital agency must mean this disposition if it means\nanything at all.\n\nWhile on this subject we must also express our surprise to find\nProf. Sellar saying of Lucretius that \u2018in no ancient writer\u2019 is \u2018the\ncertainty and universality of law more emphatically and unmistakably\nexpressed\u2019 (p. 334). This would, we think, be much truer of the Stoics,\nwho recognised in its absolute universality that law of causation\non which all other laws depend, but which Lucretius expressly tells\nus (II., 255) is broken through by the _clinamen_. A more accurate\nstatement of the case, we think, would be to say that the Epicurean\npoet believed unreservedly in uniformities of co-existence, but not, to\nthe same extent, in uniformities of sequence; while apart from these\ntwo classes neither he nor modern science knows of any laws at all.\n\n[207] V., 695-73, 730-49.\n\n[208] Cicero, _De Nat. Deor._, I., xxiv., 66.\n\n[209] _Comm._, IX., 28.\n\n[210] Coleridge\u2019s _Friend_, Section II., Essay II., _sub in._\n\n[211] \u2018In the higher ranks of French society there are men who merit\nto be called professors of the art of happiness; who have analysed\nits ingredients with careful fingers and scrutinising eyes; who\nhave consummated their experience of means and ends; who, like able\ndoctors, can apply an immediate remedy to the daily difficulties of\nhome-life; whose practice is worthy of their theory, and who prove it\nby maintaining in their wives\u2019 hearts and in their own a perennial\nnever-weakening sentiment of gratitude and love.\u2018 (_French Home Life_,\np. 324.) Although Mr. Marshall\u2019s observations are directly applicable\nto the happiness of married life only, they tend to prove that all\nhappiness may be reduced to an art.\n\n[212] Wallace\u2019s _Epicureanism_, p. 37.\n\n[213] Cicero, _De Rep._, III., vi.-xx.\n\n[214] Plutarch, _Cato Major_, xxii. ff.\n\n[215] Pindar, _Pyth._, III., 96.\n\n[216] Vol. I., p. 46.\n\n[217] It is said that the same ironical attitude continues to\ncharacterise the Greeks of our time. Col. Leake (quoted by Welcker,\n_Gr. G\u00f6tterl._, II., p. 127) informs us that travellers in Greece\nare continually entertained with local fables which are everywhere\nrepeated, but believed by nobody, least of all by the inhabitants\nof the district where they first originated. And Welcker adds, from\nhis own experience, that the young Greeks who act as guides in the\nreligious houses related the miraculous legends of the place with an\nenthusiasm and an eloquence which left him in doubt whether or not they\nthemselves believed what they expected him to believe.\n\n[218] _Il._, II., 80; XII., 238; XVI., 859; _Od._, I., 215; XI., 363;\nXXIII., 166; _Agamem._, 477 ff.\n\n[219] Sextus Empiricus, _Adv. Math._, VII., 89 ff; Zeller, _Ph. d.\nGr._, I., pp. 464, 652, 743, 828. (3rd ed.)\n\n[220] For the theses of Gorgias see Sextus Empiricus, _Adv. Math._,\nVII., 65 ff.\n\n[221] Sext. Emp., _Adv. Math._, VII., 170 ff.\n\n[222] Xen., _Mem._, IV., iii., 14.\n\n[223] _Timaeus_, 37, B, 43, D ff.\n\n[224] Examples of these questions are: \u2018Have you lost your horns?\u2019 and,\n\u2018Did Electra know that Orestes was her brother?\u2019 Stated in words, she\nknew that he was; but she did not recognise him as her brother when he\ncame to her in disguise.\n\n[225] Plutarch, _Adv. Col._, xxii.-xxiii.; Seneca, _Epp._, ix.\n\n[226] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, 481; Diog. L., IX., xi.\n\n[227] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 484; Ritter and Preller, _Hist. Ph._, p.\n336.\n\n[228] \u1f61\u03c2 \u03c7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f34\u03b7 \u1f41\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f10\u03ba\u03b4\u1fe6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd. For this and the other\nstories, see Diog. L., IX., 66-8.\n\n[229] _Pyrrh. Hyp._, I., 28 ff.\n\n[230] Diog. L., VII., 171.\n\n[231] Cicero, _Acad._, II., xxiv., 77; Sext. Emp., _Adv. Math._, VII.,\n150-7; Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, pp. 492 ff.\n\n[232] Plutarch, _De Comm. Notit._, i., 4; Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 81\n(where, however, the reference to Plutarch is wrongly given).\n\n[233] \u0395\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f26\u03bd \u03a7\u03c1\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f02\u03bd \u1f26\u03bd \u1f10\u03b3\u03ce. (Diog. L., IV., 62.) The\noriginal line ran, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f26\u03bd \u03a7\u03c1\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f02\u03bd \u1f26\u03bd \u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03ac.\n\n[234] Sext. Emp., _Adv. Math._, VII., 159-65.\n\n[235] That Carneades was the first to start this difficulty cannot be\ndirectly proved, but is conjectured with great probability by Zeller\n(_op. cit._, p. 504).\n\n[236] Sext. _Pyrrh. Hyp._, II., 186. _Adv. Math._, VIII., 463.\n\n[237] _Pyrrh. Hyp._, II., 195, 204.\n\n[238] Cicero, _De Nat. Deor._, I., xxiii., 62; III., iv., 11; xvi., 42;\nxxi., 53.\n\n[239] Sext., _Adv. Math._, IX., 182-3.\n\n[240] Cic., _De Nat. Deor._, III., xviii., 47.\n\n[241] Cic., _Acad._, II., xxxviii., 120; Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 506.\n\n[242] Cic., _Acad._, _ibid._, 121; Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 507.\n\n[243] Cic., _De Nat. Deor._, III., x., 24.\n\n[244] _ibid._, III., xi., 27.\n\n[245] _ibid._, ix., 21.\n\n[246] _ibid._, III., xii., 29; I., xxxix., 109.\n\n[247] Sext. _Adv. Math._, IX., 139-47.\n\n[248] _ibid._, 152-77.\n\n[249] Cic., _De Nat. Deor._, III., vi.; _De Divin._, II., _passim_; _De\nNat. Deor._, III., xxvi. ff.\n\n[250] _Le Christianisme et ses Origines_, II., p. 3.\n\n[251] Sext., _Pyrrh. Hyp._, III., 2.\n\n[252] Sext., _Adv. Math._, VII., 166-89.\n\n[253] Cic., _De Fin._, III., xii., 41; Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 519.\n\n[254] According to Zeller\u2019s interpretation of Cicero, _Acad._, II.,\nxi., 34.\n\n[255] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 602.\n\n[256] _ibid._, p. 603.\n\n[257] For the authorities see Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 599-601.\n\n[258] Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 603-8.\n\n[259] Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 554, 561 ff.\n\n[260] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 575.\n\n[261] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 621.\n\n[262] Cic., _Acad._, II., xlv.\n\n[263] The treatises entitled _De Stoicorum Repugnanti\u00e2_ and _De\nCommunibus Notiliis_.\n\n[264] Lucret., IV., 1154-64; Juven., VI., 186-95.\n\n[265] Varro observes that for 170 years the ancient Romans worshipped\ntheir gods without images; \u2018quod si adhuc,\u2019 inquit, \u2018mansisset castius\nDii observarentur.\u2019 And in the same passage, speaking of mythology, he\nsays, \u2018hoc omnia Diis attribuuntur quae non modo in hominem, sed etiam\nin contemtissimum hominem cadere possunt.\u2019 Augustin., _De Civit. Dei_,\nIV., iii., and xxxi., quoted by Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 674.\n\n[266] Ritter and Preller, _Hist. Phil._, p. 426; Woltjer, _Lucretii\nPhilosophia_, p. 5.\n\n[267] The services of Posidonius seem to have been overlooked by M.\nGaston Boissier when he implies in his work on Roman Religion (vol.\nii., p. 13) that Fabianus, a Roman declaimer under Augustus, was the\nfirst to give an eloquent expression to Stoicism.\n\n[268] Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 597-8.\n\n[269] _Acad._, II., xxii., 69.\n\n[270] _ibid._, xxxi., 99.\n\n[271] _De Fin._, V., xxi., 59.\n\n[272] _Acad._, II., xxxix.\n\n[273] For the literary studies of Socrates, see Xenoph., _Mem._, I.,\nvi., 14; those of Cicero are too manifest to need any special reference.\n\n[274] See the passages quoted by Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 659-60.\n\n[275] _Acad._, I., x.\n\n[276] _De Fin._, IV., viii.\n\n[277] _De Off._, III., iii., 11.\n\n[278] The passage occurs near the beginning of his Essay on Bacon.\n\n[279] See the _Somnium Scipionis, De Repub._, VI., xvii.\n\n[280] _ibid._, xxvi.\n\n[281] _De Divin._, II., lxxii., 148; Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 667.\n\n[282] l. 724 ff.\n\n[283] l. 5-7, and 34-36.\n\n[284] I., 231-51.\n\n[285] The very passage (_Georg._, II., 475-92) which is supposed\nto refer to Lucretius contains a line (_frigidus obstiterit circum\npraecordia sanguis_) embodying the Stoic theory that the soul has its\nseat in the heart, and is nourished by a warm exhalation from the\nblood. See Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, p. 197.\n\n[286] Zeller does indeed call Seneca and Marcus Aurelius \u2018Platonising\nStoics\u2019 (_Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, p. 236, 3rd. ed.); but the evidence\nadduced hardly seems to justify the epithet.\n\n[287] _Metamorph._, XV., 60.\n\n[288] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, p. 681.\n\n[289] _Epp._, I., i., 18.\n\n[290] M. Gaston Boissier (_Religion Romaine_, I., p. 206), on the\nstrength of a passage in one of Horace\u2019s _Satires_ (II., iii., 11),\nwhere the poet speaks of carrying Plato about with him on his travels,\ninfers that the study of the _Dialogues_ had a good deal to do with his\nconversion. It is, however, more than probable that the Plato mentioned\nis not the philosopher, but the comic poet, for we find that his\ncompanions in Horace\u2019s trunk were Menander, Eupolis, and Archilochus.\n\n[291] Zeller is inclined to place Aenesid\u00eamus a hundred years earlier\nthan the date here assigned to him (_Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, p. 9);\nbut two pieces of evidence which he himself quotes seem to militate\nstrongly against this view. One is a statement of Aristocles the\nPeripatetic, who flourished 160-190 A.D., that Scepticism had been\nrevived not long before his time (\u1f10\u03c7\u03b8\u1f72\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ce\u03b7\u03bd; _apud_ Euseb.,\n_Pr. Ev._, XIV., xviii., 22; Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 9); the other is\nSeneca\u2019s question, _Quis est qui tradat praecepta Pyrrhonis?_ (_Nat.\nQuaest._, VII., xxxii. 2; Zeller, p. 11). On the other hand, Epict\u00eatus,\nlecturing towards the end of the first century, alludes to Scepticism\nas something then living and active. The natural inference is that\nAenesid\u00eamus flourished before his time and after Seneca, that is about\nthe period mentioned in the text; and we cannot make out that there are\nany satisfactory data pointing to a different conclusion.\n\n[292] Zeller, III., b, p. 18.\n\n[293] Zeller, III., a, pp. 495 and 514; Cic., _Acad._, I., xii., 45;\n_ibid._, II., ix., 28.\n\n[294] With all deference to so great a scholar as Zeller, it seems\nto us that he has misinterpreted a passage in which Sextus Empiricus\nobserves that a particular argument of his own against the possibility\nof reaching truth either by sense or by reason, is virtually (\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9)\ncontained in the difficulties raised by Aenesid\u00eamus (_Adv. Math._,\nVIII., 40). Zeller (_op. cit._, III., b, p. 20, note 5) translates\n\u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9, \u2018dem Sinne nach,\u2019 \u2018in substance,\u2019 a meaning which it will\nhardly bear. What Sextus says is that the untrustworthiness of reason\nfollows on the untrustworthiness of sense, for the notions supplied\nby the latter must either be common to all the senses\u2014which is\nimpossible, owing to their specialised character\u2014or limited to some,\nand therefore equally liable with them to dispute and contradiction.\nMoreover, he argues, rational notions (\u03c4\u03ac \u03bd\u03bf\u03b7\u03c4\u03ac) cannot all be true,\nas they conflict both with each other and with sensation. And the\nreference to Aenesid\u00eamus means simply that this kind of argument\namounts to a further extension of his attack on the credibility of the\nsenses; it does not imply that Aenesid\u00eamus had ever attacked reason\nhimself. The whole passage is quite in the usual style of exhaustive\nalternation followed by Sextus, and its extreme awkwardness seems to\nshow that he is forcing his arguments into parallelism with those of\nhis predecessor. It is possible also that the different members of the\nargument have been transposed; for the part connecting reason with\nsense (44) ought logically to stand last, and that relating to the\ndiscrepancy of different notions with one another (45-7), second. Cf.\n_Adv. Math._, VII., 350, where Aenesid\u00eamus is said to have identified\nthe understanding with the senses, quite in the style of Protagoras and\nquite unlike the New Academy.\n\n[295] Sext. Emp., _Pyrrh. Hyp._, I., 180 ff.\n\n[296] _Adv. Math._, IX., 228.\n\n[297] The ten Tropes were evidently suggested by the ten Categories\nof Aristotle. The five grounded on differences of disposition, place,\nquantity, relation, and habits, show at once by their names that they\nare derived from \u03ba\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9, \u03c0\u03bf\u1fe6, \u03c0\u03bf\u03c3\u03cc\u03bd, \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9, and \u1f14\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. The Trope\nof comparative frequency would be suggested by \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5; the disturbing\ninfluence of bodies on one another combines \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd and \u03c0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd;\nthe conflict of the special senses belongs, although somewhat more\nremotely, to \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03cc\u03bd; and, in order to make up the number ten, \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1,\nwhich answers to the percipient in general, had to be divided into the\ntwo Tropes taken respectively from the differences among animals and\namong men,\u2014an arrangement that would occur all the more readily as\n\u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1 included the two notions of Genus and Species, of which the one\nanswers, in this instance, to animals, and the other to men.\n\n[298] Zeller, III., b, p. 23.\n\n[299] Zeller, _op. cit._ pp. 29-37.\n\n[300] Sext. Emp., _Pyrrh. Hyp._, I., 164 and 178; Zeller, _op. cit._,\npp. 37 and 38.\n\n[301] _Adv. Math._, V., 1.\n\n[302] _ibid._, IX., 208.\n\n[303] These are the four principles enumerated by Sextus, _Pyrrh.\nHyp._, I., 24.\n\n[304] Diog. L., X., 9.\n\n[305] The materials and, to a certain extent, the ideas of this\nchapter are chiefly derived from Zeller\u2019s _Philosophie der Griechen_,\nVol. III., Duruy\u2019s _Histoire des Romains_, Vol. V., Gaston Boissier\u2019s\n_Religion Romaine_, and above all from Friedl\u00e4nder\u2019s _Darstellungen aus\nder Sittengeschichte Rom\u2019s_, Part III., chapters iv. and vi.\n\n[306] Friedl\u00e4nder, _R\u00f6mische Sittengeschichte_, III., pp, 483, 681.\n\n[307] As a striking instance of the solidarity which now connects all\nforms of irrationalism, it may be mentioned that Livy\u2019s fables are\naccepted, in avowed defiance of modern criticism, by the clericalising\nEnglish students of archaeology in Rome.\n\n[308] Using the word in its modern rather than in its ancient sense, so\nas to include the whole empire outside the city of Rome.\n\n[309] _Epp._, II., i., 20 ff.\n\n[310] _Carm._, I., xi., and III., xxiii.\n\n[311] _Carm._, III., vi., and the _Carmen Seculare_.\n\n[312] Boissier, _Religion Romaine_, I., p. 336.\n\n[313] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 510.\n\n[314] See the note on _Honestiores_ and _Humiliores_ appended to the\nfifth volume of Duruy\u2019s _Histoire des Romains_.\n\n[315] Lucian, _Adversus Indoctum_.\n\n[316] Juvenal, _Satt._, XVI., 14.\n\n[317] Persius, _Satt._, III., 77.; cf. V., 189.\n\n[318] Matth., viii., 9; Luke, vii., 8.\n\n[319] Thucydides, II., iv. The other women alluded to are, the wife\nof Adm\u00eatus, who tells Themistocles how he is to proceed in order to\nconciliate her husband (I., cxxxvi.); Stratonice, the sister whom\nPerdiccas gives in marriage to Seuthes (II., ci.); and Brauro, the\nEdonian queen who murders her husband Pittacus (IV., cvii.). The wife\nand daughter of Hippias the Peisistratid and the sister of Harmodius\nare mentioned in bk. VI., lv. ff, but they take us back to an\nearlier period of Greek history than that of which Thucydides treats\nconsecutively; while the names of Helen and Procne, which also occur,\nbelong, of course, to a much remoter past (I., ix., and II., xxix.)\n\n[320] It has even been maintained that the condition of the Roman\nmatron was superior to that of the modern Frenchwoman. (Duruy,\n_Histoire des Romains_, V., p. 41.)\n\n[321] Boissier, _Religion Romaine_, II. p. 200.\n\n[322] Boissier, _op. cit._, II., pp. 214 ff.\n\n[323] Friedl\u00e4nder, _Romische Sittengeschichte_, I., pp. 441 ff.\n\n[324] Lucian, _De Mercede Conductis_, xxvi.; Friedl\u00e4nder, I., p. 447.\n\n[325] Epict., _Fragm._, 53 D\u00fcbner.\n\n[326] Juvenal, V., and Lucian, _De Mercede Conductis_.\n\n[327] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 502.\n\n[328] Friedl\u00e4nder, _ibid._\n\n[329] Boissier, _op. cit._, I., p. 362.\n\n[330] Havet, _Le Christianisme et ses Origines_, II., p. 150.\n\n[331] Hor., _Satt._, I., ix., 67-72.\n\n[332] _Ibid._, I., iv., 142.\n\n[333] _Opera_, ed. Tauchnitz, V., p. 209.\n\n[334] Philo, _Vita Mos._ p. 136, M.; Joseph., _Contr. Ap._, II.,\nxxxix.; Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 583.\n\n[335] Ovid., _Ars Am._, I., 415; _Rem. Am._, 219; Pers., V., 179; Juv.,\nXIV., 97; Friedl\u00e4nder, _loc. cit._\n\n[336] Havet, II., p. 328.\n\n[337] Friedl\u00e4nder, I., p. 451.\n\n[338] _Ars Am._, I., 76.\n\n[339] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., pp. 518, 539 ff, 553 ff.\n\n[340] Xenophon, _Mem._, I., i., 9.\n\n[341] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 523.\n\n[342] _ibid._, pp. 524 ff.\n\n[343] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., pp. 527 ff.\n\n[344] Plutarch, _De Defect. Oracul._, cap. xlv., p. 434.\n\n[345] Lucian, _Alexander_, 25, 47.\n\n[346] According to Friedl\u00e4nder (III., p. 531), this happened between\n167 and 169.\n\n[347] Friedl\u00e4nder, p. 532.\n\n[348] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 533.\n\n[349] _Ibid._, p. 534.\n\n[350] For details see Friedl\u00e4nder, _loc. cit._\n\n[351] Friedl\u00e4nder, pp. 535 ff. This form of superstition still\nflourishes in great force among at least the lower class of Italians\nat the present day; and the continual stimulation afforded to it by\nthe public lottery is not the least mischievous consequence of that\ninfamous institution.\n\n[352] Aelian, _Fragm._, 98; Friedl\u00e4nder, p. 494.\n\n[353] Friedl\u00e4nder, _loc. cit._\n\n[354] Friedl\u00e4nder, p. 549.\n\n[355] For the whole subject of Aristeides see Friedl\u00e4nder, pp. 496 ff.\n\n[356] \u2018Et parum sane fuit quod illi honores divinos, omnis aetas,\nomnis sexus, omnis condicio ac dignitas dedit, nisi quod etiam\nsacrilegus judicatus est qui ejus imaginem in suo domo non habuit qui\nper fortunam vel potuit habere vel debuit. Denique hodieque in multis\ndomibus M. Aurelii statuae consistunt inter deos penates. Nec defuerunt\nhomines qui somniis eum multa praedixisse augurantes futura et vera\nconcinnerunt.\u2019\u2014_Vita M. Antonini Phil._, cap. xviii.\n\n[357] Friedl\u00e4nder, p. 513.\n\n[358] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 683. Cp. Clifford\u2019s epitaph: \u2018I was nothing\nand was conceived; I loved and did a little work; I am nothing and\ngrieve not.\u2019\n\n[359] _Comm._, IV., 21; XII., 5, 26.\n\n[360] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, p. 798.\n\n[361] Quoted by Friedl\u00e4nder, pp. 681 f.\n\n[362] _Ibid._, p. 688.\n\n[363] _Ibid._\n\n[364] Zeller, _op. cit._, p. 828.\n\n[365] See in particular, _Satt._, II, 149.\n\n[366] Friedl\u00e4nder, I., p. 465 f.\n\n[367] Duruy, _Hist. d. Rom._, V., p. 463.\n\n[368] III., p. 692.\n\n[369] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 701.\n\n[370] A mesure que le temps s\u2019avance les traits par lesquels se\nproduit la croyance \u00e0 une autre vie, d\u2019abord vagues et confus, loin de\ns\u2019effacer, se prononcent et se pr\u00e9cisent. On se fait de la destin\u00e9e des\n\u00e2mes des id\u00e9es de plus en plus hautes; on rend aux morts des honneurs\nde plus en plus grands. En outre, ces id\u00e9es, ces pratiques s\u2019\u00e9tendent\nde plus en plus au grand nombre. Au commencement il semble qu\u2019on ne\ns\u2019inqui\u00e8te que du sort des rois et des h\u00e9ros, enfants ou descendants\ndirects des dieux; avec le temps beaucoup d\u2019autres ont part aux m\u00eames\npr\u00e9occupations, puis tous ou presque tous. La f\u00e9licit\u00e9 est r\u00e9serv\u00e9e\na qui ressemble aux dieux; c\u2019est une maxime antique qui subsiste\nimmuable. Avec le temps on se fait de la ressemblance avec les dieux\nou, ce qui revient au m\u00eame, de la perfection, des id\u00e9es qui permettent\n\u00e0 tous d\u2019y pr\u00e9tendre.\u2019 Ravaisson, _Le Monument de Myrrhine et les\nbas-reliefs fun\u00e9raires_, 1876, quoted by Duruy, _op. cit._, p. 463.\n\n[371] See Vol. I., p. 68.\n\n[372] For references see Friedl\u00e4nder, III., pp. 706 ff.\n\n[373] _Epod._, xvii., 79.\n\n[374] Friedl\u00e4nder, pp. 710 f.\n\n[375] Sen., _Epp._, xvi., 5; xcv., 52; xli., 1 and 2.\n\n[376] Perhaps, however, Zeller\u2019s contention amounts to no more than\nthat Seneca follows Posidonius in his adoption of the Platonic\ndistinction between reason and passion, which were identified by the\nolder Stoics. But the object of the latter was apparently to save the\npersonality of man, which seemed to be threatened by Plato\u2019s tripartite\ndivision of mind; and as Seneca achieves the same result by including\nthe passions in the \u1f21\u03b3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd[377] the difference between them and\nhim is after all little more than verbal. For the general attitude of\nSeneca towards religion see Gaston Boissier, _Religion Romaine_, II.,\npp. 63-92.\n\n[377] _Epp._, xcii., 1., (Zeller, by mistake refers to _Epp._, xciv.,\nin _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, p. 711.)\n\n[378] As \u03c8\u03c5\u03c7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c3\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, \u03c3\u03b1\u03c1\u03ba\u03af\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd.\n\n[379] Epict., _Fragm._, 175; _Diss._, I., xvi., 1-8; II., xvi., 42;\nIII., xxii., 2; xxiv., 91-94. Zeller, III., a, p. 742.\n\n[380] Zeller, p. 745.\n\n[381] Friedl\u00e4nder, III., p. 493.\n\n[382] _Comm._, VI., 30.\n\n[383] _Oratt._, VI., p. 203.\n\n[384] _Diss._, II., xxxvi.\n\n[385] _Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, pp. 88 ff.\n\n[386] Seneca, _Epp._, lxiv., 2; cviii., 17.\n\n[387] Seneca, _De Ir\u00e2_, III., xxxvi., 1.\n\n[388] Seneca, _Epp._, cviii., 22.\n\n[389] For a detailed account of the Neo-Pythagorean school, see Zeller,\n_op. cit._, III., b, pp. 79-158, from which the above summary is\nentirely derived.\n\n[390] _De Defect. Orac._, xvii., p. 419.\n\n[391] _Diss._, I., xv., 2.\n\n[392] Plutarch, _De Is. et Osir._, xxv. and xxvi; _De Fac. in Orbe\nLun._, xxx.\n\n[393] _Op. et D._, 120.\n\n[394] _Diss._, I., xv., 7.\n\n[395] Zeller, III., b, pp. 189 ff.\n\n[396] _De Superstit._, viii., p. 169.\n\n[397] _Metamorph._, XI., xxv.\n\n[398] Zeller, III., b, pp. 257 ff.\n\n[399] For references, see Ritter and Preller, _Hist. Phil._, pp. 467-73.\n\n[400] For references, see Zeller, III., b, pp. 148 f.\n\n[401] Suidas, quoted by Ritter and Preller, p. 485.\n\n[402] Vacherot, _Histoire de l\u2019Ecole d\u2019Alexandrie_, pp. 214-17; Zeller,\nIII., b, pp. 387 ff. The original authority is Irenaeus.\n\n[403] _Politicus_, p. 270 ff.\n\n[404] _Legg._, X., pp. 896, D ff, 898, C, 904, A.\n\n[405] _De Isid. et Osir._, xlv. f.; _De Vir. Moral._, iii.; _De Anim.\nProcr._, v., 5. Plutarch supposes that the irrational soul in man is\nderived from the evil world-soul which he regards rather as senseless\nthan as Satanic. It would thus very closely resemble the delirious\nDemiurgus of Valentinus and the \u2018absolut Dumme\u2019 of Eduard v. Hartmann.\n\n[406] _Diss._, III., xxiii.\n\n[407] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., a, pp. 807 ff.\n\n[408] Porph., _Vita Plot._, cap. iii.\n\n[409] _Ibid._, cap. vii.\n\n[410] _Ibid._, cap. xiii.\n\n[411] Not, as is commonly stated, on the model of Plato\u2019s Republic,\nwhich would have been a far more difficult enterprise, and one little\nin accordance with the practical good sense shown on other occasions by\nPlotinus.\n\n[412] Porph., _Vita_, cap. xii.; Hegel, _Gesch. d. Ph._, III., p. 34.\n\n[413] Porph., _Vita_, cap. ix.\n\n[414] _Ibid._, xi. Leopardi has taken the incident referred to as\nthe subject of one of his dialogues; Plotinus, the great champion of\noptimism, being chosen, with bitter irony, to represent the Italian\npoet\u2019s own pessimistic views of life. The difficulty was to show how\nthe Neo-Platonist philosopher could, consistently with the principles\nthus fathered on him, still continue to dissuade his pupil from\ncommitting suicide. Leopardi voluntarily faces the _argumentum ad\nhominem_ by which common sense has in all ages summarily disposed of\npessimism: \u2018Then why don\u2019t you kill yourself?\u2019 (\u2018Your philosophy or\nyour life,\u2019 so to speak.) The answer is singularly lame. Porphyry is to\nthink of the distress which his death would cause to his friends. He\nmight have replied that if the general misery were so great as Plotinus\nhad maintained, a little more or less affliction would not make any\nappreciable difference; that, considering the profound selfishness of\nmankind, an accepted article of faith with pessimism, his friends would\nin all probability easily resign themselves to his loss; that, at any\nrate, the suffering inflicted on them would be a mere trifle compared\nto what he would himself be getting rid of; and that, if the worst came\nto the worst, they had but to follow his example and ease themselves\nof all their troubles at a single stroke. A sincere pessimist would\nprobably say: \u2018I do not kill myself because I am afraid: and my very\nfear of death is a conclusive argument in favour of my creed. Nothing\nproves the deep-rooted necessity of pain more strongly than that we\nshould refuse to profit by so obvious a means of escaping from it as\nthat offered by suicide.\u2019 Of course where pessimism is associated with\na belief in metempsychosis, as among the Buddhists, there is the best\nof reasons for not seeking a violent death, namely, that it would in\nall probability transfer the suicide to another and inferior grade of\nexistence; whereas, by using the opportunities of self-mortification\nwhich this world offers, he might succeed in extinguishing the vital\nprinciple for good and all. And Schopenhauer does, in fact, adopt\nthe belief in metempsychosis just so far as is necessary to exclude\nthe desirability of suicide from his philosophy. But the truth is,\nthat while Asiatic pessimism is the logical consequence of a false\nmetaphysical system, the analogous systems of European pessimists are\nsimply an excuse for not pushing their disgust with life to its only\nrational issue.\n\n[415] Porph., _Vita_, cap. xviii.\n\n[416] Porphyry says six, but there must be a mistake somewhere, as\nPlotinus was fifty-nine when their friendship began, and died in his\nsixty-sixth year; while Porphyry\u2019s departure for Sicily took place two\nyears before that event, leaving, at most, five years during which\ntheir personal intercourse can have lasted, if the other dates are to\nbe trusted.\n\n[417] _Enn._, III., ii. and iii.\n\n[418] _Plotini Opera_ recognovit Adolphus Kirchhoff, Lipsiae, 1856,\nin Teubner\u2019s series of Greek and Latin authors. H. F. M\u00fcller, the\nlatest editor of Plotinus, has returned to the original arrangement\nby Enneads. His edition is accompanied by a very useful German\ntranslation, only half of which, however, has as yet appeared. (Berlin,\n1878.)\n\n[419] Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, p. 472. (Third edition.)\n\n[420] Porph., _Vita_, iv. ff., xxiv. ff.\n\n[421] _Ibid._, cap. x.\n\n[422] _Ibid._\n\n[423] _Ibid._, cap. xxii.\n\n[424] _Ibid._, capp. i. and ii.\n\n[425] Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 451 ff.\n\n[426] Porph., _Vita_, cap. xx.\n\n[427] A single example will make our meaning clear. Plotinus is trying\nto prove that there can be no Form without Matter. He first argues\nthat if the notes of a concept can be separated from one another, this\nproves the presence of Matter, since divisibility is an affection\nbelonging only to it. He then goes on to say, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u1f42\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd\n\u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9, \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f11\u03bd\u1f76 \u1f42\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f55\u03bb\u1fc3 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u1f11\u03bd\u1f76 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f70 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b1\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 \u1f42\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1.\n(_Enn._, II., iv., 4; Kirchhoff, I., p. 113, I. 7.) The meaning is,\nthat if the notes are inseparable, the unity in which they inhere is\nrelated to them as Matter to Form.\n\n[428] See the index to Kirchhoff\u2019s edition.\n\n[429] For references see Kirchner, _Die Philosophie des Plotin_, p.\n185; Steinhart, _Meletemata Plotiniana_, pp. 9-23; Zeller, _Ph. d.\nGr._, III., b, pp. 430 f.\n\n[430] Steinhart, _op. cit._, pp. 30 ff.; Kirchner, _op. cit._, pp. 186\nff.\n\n[431] Porph., _Vita_, cap. xv.\n\n[432] _Enn._, I., vi.\n\n[433] _Meno_, 86, A. Compare Vol. I., p. 212.\n\n[434] _Theaet\u00eatus_, 176, A. _Phaedo_, 67, B ff.\n\n[435] _Op. cit._, p. 427.\n\n[436] _Enn._, IV., vii.\n\n[437] _Enn._, III., i., 3.\n\n[438] _Enn._, III., i.\n\n[439] \u1f08\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03c1\u03ac\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f21\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f51\u03c0\u03ac\u03c1\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. III., i., 4, Kirchh., I., p. 38, l. 22. So utterly\nincapable is M. Vacherot of placing himself at this point of view,\nthat he actually reads into the words quoted an argument in favour of\nfree-will based on the testimony of consciousness. His version runs\nas follows:\u2014\u2018Nous savons et nous croyons fermement par le sentiment\nde ce qui se passe en nous que les individus (les \u00e2mes) vivent,\nagissent, pensent, d\u2019une vie, d\u2019une action, d\u2019une pens\u00e9e qui leur est\npropre.\u2019\u2014_Histoire Critique de l\u2019\u00c9cole d\u2019Alexandrie_, I., p. 514. So\nfar as our knowledge goes, such an appeal to consciousness is not to be\nfound in any ancient writer.\n\n[440] See _Legg._, 861, A ff. for an attempt to prove that men may\nproperly be punished for actions committed through ignorance of their\nreal good. This passage is one of the grounds used by Teichm\u00fcller, in\nhis _Literarische Fehden_, to establish the rather paradoxical thesis\nthat Aristotle published his _Ethics_ before Plato\u2019s death.\n\n[441] III., i., 10.\n\n[442] Cap. 4, _sub fin._\n\n[443] Capp. 6 and 7. Cp. _Enn._, II., iii.; Zeller, _op. cit._, pp. 567\nff; Kirchner, _Ph. d. Plot._, p. 195.\n\n[444] Plato, _Phaedo_, 79, A ff.; Aristot., _De An._, III., iv., _sub\nfin._\n\n[445] _Phaedr._, 245, C; _Legg._, 892, A.\n\n[446] _Adv. Col._, ix., 3.\n\n[447] _Enn._, IV., ii., i.\n\n[448] _Enn._, IV., ii., _sub fin._; _Tim._, 35, A.\n\n[449] _Enn._, V., ix.\n\n[450] _Enn._, IV., viii.\n\n[451] _Enn._, V., ix., 2.\n\n[452] Readers of Pope\u2019s _Essay on Man_ will recognise this argument. It\nwas, in fact, borrowed from Plotinus by Leibnitz, and handed on through\nBolingbroke to Pope. There is no better introduction to Neo-Platonism\nthan this beautiful poem.\n\n[453] Kirchner, _Ph. d. Plot._, p. 35. The triad of body, soul,\nand spirit is still to be met with in modern popular philosophy;\nbut, contrary to the Greek order of priority, there is a noticeable\ntendency to rank soul, as the seat of emotion, higher than spirit or\npure reason, particularly among persons whose opinions receive little\ncountenance from the last-mentioned faculty.\n\n[454] _Rep._, VI., 508, C ff.; VII., 517, C.\n\n[455] Vol. I., p. 229.\n\n[456] _Ibid._, p. 235.\n\n[457] Aristot., _Metaph._, I., vi.\n\n[458] _Enn._, V., iv., 2; Kirchh., I., p. 72, l. 8.\n\n[459] This is the method of Fichte\u2019s _Wissenschaftslehre_, which seems\nto show that Fichte was acquainted with Neo-Platonism, probably at\nsecond-hand.\n\n[460] _Enn._, IV., ix.\n\n[461] _Ibid._, 3; Kirchh., I., p, 75, l. 24.\n\n[462] _Enn._, VI., ix., 1.\n\n[463] _Enn._, VI., ix., 3; Kirchh., I., pp. 81 ff.\n\n[464] In the introductory essay prefixed to his work _De l\u2019\u00c9cole\nd\u2019Alexandrie_.\n\n[465] \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03c6\u03bf\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u03b3\u03bd\u03ce\u03c3\u03b5\u03ce\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2, \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd.\u2014_Rep._, 508, E. \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f44\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u1f00\u03b3\u03b1\u03b8\u03bf\u1fe6, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u2019\n\u1f14\u03c4\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c0\u03ad\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c3\u03b2\u03b5\u03af\u1fb3 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03c5\u03bd\u03ac\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03ad\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2.\u2014_Ibid._, 509,\nB. The first of these passages is bracketed by Stallbaum, but not the\nsecond.\n\n[466] _Symp._, 211, E f.\n\n[467] _Enn._, V., i.\n\n[468] _Enn._, VI., ix., 3, _sub fin._; _ibid._, 6, p. 764, E. (Kirchh.,\nI., p. 87, l. 16); _Enn._, V., v., 6, p. 525, D. (Kirchh., II., p. 24,\nl. 24).\n\n[469] _Enn._, VI., ix., 9, _sub fin._\n\n[470] _Ibid._, V., ii., I, p. 494, A. (Kirchh., I., p. 109, l. 7).\n\n[471] _Ibid._, V., i., 5, p. 487, C. (Kirchh., I., p. 101, l. 32).\n\n[472] _Enn._, V., i., 6, p. 487, B. (Kirchh., I., p. 101, l. 21).\n\n[473] _Enn._, V., i., 4, p. 485, E (Kirchh., I., pp. 99 f.).\n\n[474] _Enn._, V., ii., 1, p. 494, A; VI., ix., 2, p. 759, A; II., iv.,\n5, p. 162, A.\n\n[475] _Enn._, IV., iv., 16, p. 409, C (Kirchh., I., p. 283, l. 31).\n\n[476] _Enn._, V., ii., 2.\n\n[477] _Enn._, II., iv.\n\n[478] Aristot., _Metaph._, VII., x., _sub fin._\n\n[479] _Tim._, 48, E, ff.\n\n[480] _Ibid._, 47, E.\n\n[481] _Enn._, II., iv., 5, p. 161, E (Kirchh., I., p. 114, l. 1).\n\n[482] _Enn._, II., iv., 11, _sub fin._\n\n[483] _Enn._, III., vi., 14 f.\n\n[484] _Enn._, II., iv., 15, p. 169, A (Kirchh., I., p. 124, l. 17).\n\n[485] _Ibid._, 5, p. 162, A (Kirchh., I., p. 114, l. 12).\n\n[486] _Ibid._, III., ix., 3, p. 358, A (Kirchh., I., p. 128, l. 22).\n\n[487] _Enn._, III., iv., i.\n\n[488] _Enn._, II., iv., 15, p. 169, B (Kirchh., I., p. 124, l. 22).\n\n[489] _Enn._, IV., iii,, 9, p. 379, A (Kirchh., I., p. 244, l. 17).\nIn one of his latest essays (_Enn._, I., viii., 7) Plotinus for a\nmoment accepts the Platonic theory that evil must necessarily coexist\nwith good as its correlative opposite, but quickly returns to the\nalternative theory that evil results from the gradual diminution and\nextinction of good (cp. Zeller, _Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, p. 549).\n\n[490] _Enn._, III., viii., 4 and 8.\n\n[491] Our own word \u2018paragon\u2019 is a curious record of the theory in\nquestion. It is derived from the Greek participial substantive \u1f41\n\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd, the producer. Now, according to Neo-Platonism, in the\nhierarchic series of existences, the product always strives, or should\nstrive, to model itself on the producer, hence \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd came to be used\nin the double sense of a cause and an exemplar. As such, it is one of\nthe technical terms employed throughout the _Institutiones Theologicae_\nof Proclus. But, in time, the second or derivative meaning became so\nmuch the more important as to gain exclusive possession of the word on\nits adoption into modern languages.\n\n[492] _Enn._, III., iv., 2.\n\n[493] _Enn._, I., ii., 1.\n\n[494] _Ibid._, 3.\n\n[495] _Enn._, I., ii., 6, _sub fin._\n\n[496] _Ibid._, 5.\n\n[497] _Ibid._, ix.\n\n[498] _Enn._, I., iii.\n\n[499] _Rep._, VI., 511.\n\n[500] See the conclusion of the _Posterior Analytics_.\n\n[501] _Enn._, III., vii., 1, p. 325, C (Kirchh., II., p. 282, l. 13).\n\n[502] Zeller\u2019s last volume, giving a full account of the Neo-Platonic\nschool, has recently reached a third edition, but it belongs to a\nconnected work, and contains, in addition, a mass of information\npossessing special interest for theologians. It has not, however, been\ntranslated into English, nor apparently is there any intention of\ntranslating it. Our own literature on the subject is represented by a\nworthless book of Kingsley\u2019s, entitled _Alexandria and her Schools_,\nand a novel by a lady, called the _Wards of Plotinus_.\n\n[503] _Enn._, VI., ix., _sub fin._\n\n[504] _Enn._, III., ii., 15, p. 266, E (Kirchh., II., p. 336, l.\n31). M. Renan talks of the period from 235 to 284 as \u2018cet enfer\nd\u2019un demi-si\u00e8cle o\u00f9 sombre toute philosophie, toute civilit\u00e9, toute\nd\u00e9licatesse\u2019 (_Marc-Aur\u00e8le_, p. 498). As, however, this epoch produced\nNeo-Platonism, the expression \u2018toute philosophie\u2019 is rather misplaced.\n\n[505] _Enn._, IV., iv., 17, p. 410, B. (Kirchh., I., p. 285, l. 1).\n\n[506] _Ph. d. Gr._, III., b, pp. 69 ff, 419 ff.\n\n[507] _Op. cit._, pp. 419 ff.\n\n[508] Zeller, p. 447.\n\n[509] _Enn._, V., v., p. 520, A. (Kirchh., II., p. 18, l. 3). This is\nthe only passage in the _Enneads_ where the Sceptics seem to be alluded\nto.\n\n[510] _Loc. cit._\n\n[511] _Vita_, x., _sub fin._\n\n[512] For specimens of his treatment, see Zeller, pp. 622 ff.\n\n[513] For the theology of Plotinus see Zeller, pp. 619 ff, and for the\ndaemons, p. 570. In our opinion, Zeller attributes a much stronger\nreligious faith to Plotinus than can be proved from the passages to\nwhich he refers.\n\n[514] _Enn._, V., vii.\n\n[515] _Enn._, V., vii., I, p. 539, B. (Kirchh., I., p. 145, l. 23).\n\n[516] For references, see Zeller, pp. 588 ff.\n\n[517] _Enn._, VI., ii., 3, p. 598, A. (Kirchh., II., p. 227).\n\n[518] _Enn._, II., ix.\n\n[519] _Ibid._, cap. 6.\n\n[520] _Ibid._, 14.\n\n[521] _Enn._, II., ix., 15.\n\n[522] Kirchner, _Die Ph. d. Plot._, pp. 1-24, 175-208. Cp. Steinhart,\n_Meletemata Plotiniana_, p. 4.\n\n[523] Two other popular misconceptions may be traced back, in part at\nleast, to the exclusively transcendental interpretation of Plato\u2019s\nphilosophy. By drawing away attention from the Socratic dialogues,\nit broke the connexion between Socrates and his chief disciple, thus\nleaving the former to be estimated exclusively from Xenophon\u2019s view\nof his character as a moral and religious teacher. True, Xenophon\nhimself supplies us with the data which prove that Socrates was, above\nall things, a dialectician, but only in the reflex light of Plato\u2019s\nsubsequent developments can their real significance be perceived. On\nthe other hand, the attempt to combine Aristotle with Plato led to\na serious misunderstanding of the actual relation between the two.\nWhen the whole ideal element of his philosophy had been drawn off\nand employed to heighten still further the transcendentalism of his\nmaster\u2019s teaching, the Stagirite came to be judged entirely by the\nresidual elements, by the logical, physical, and critical portions of\nhis system. On the strength of these, he was represented as the type of\nwhatever is most opposed to Plato, and, in particular, of a practical,\nprosaic turn of mind, which was quite alien from his true character.\n\n[524] \u03a7\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b8\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 ... \u03b3\u03b9\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03ba\u03cc\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff7 \u1f00\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c3\u03af\u1fb3. (_Enn._, VI., ix., 5, p. 763, B.) \u03a0\u1fb6\u03bd \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f51\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f15\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u1f04\u03c1\u03c1\u03b7\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f04\u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u1fb6\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\u00b7 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03c7\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03bb\u03b7\u03c0\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03c3\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd. (Proclus,\n_Institutiones Theologicae_, cxxiii.), cp. Proclus, _ibid._, clxii.\n\n[525] _De Princip._, ii., quoted by Ritter and Preller, p. 536 f.\n\n[526] _Inst. Theol._, lxxii., cp. Zeller, p. 808, where it is denied,\nwrongly, as we think, that Plotinus held the same view.\n\n[527] The following sketch is based on the accounts given of the period\nto which it relates in the works of Zeller and Vacherot.\n\n[528] _De Civit. Dei_, VIII., v., quoted by Kirchner, p. 208.\n\n[529] _Enn._, II., ix., 18, p. 217, C; for Syrianus and Proclus, see\nZeller, p. 738. The Emperor Constantine is said to have remained a\nsun-worshipper all his life (Vacherot, II., p. 153); and even Philo\nJudaeus speaks of the stars as visible gods (Zeller, p. 393).\n\n[530] Quoted by Ritter and Preller, p. 539.\n\n[531] Compare the report of Agathias with the series of questions put\nto Priscian, quoted in the Dissertation by M. Quicherat, prefixed to\nD\u00fcbner\u2019s edition of Priscian\u2019s _Solutiones_ (printed after Plotinus in\nDidot\u2019s edition, pp. 549 ff).\n\n[532] M. Vacherot says (II., p. 400), without giving any authority for\nhis statement, that the Neo-Platonists were driven from Persia by the\npersecution of the Magi; and that they returned home \u2018furtivement,\u2019\nwhich is certainly incorrect. They returned openly, under the\nprotection of a treaty between Persia and Rome.\n\n[533] _Repub._, IX., _sub fin._\n\n[534] Haur\u00e9au, _Histoire de la Philosophie Scolastique_, I., p. 372.\n\n[535] For Gilbert de la Porr\u00e9e see Haur\u00e9au, I., chap. xviii.\n\n[536] Jourdain, _Recherches critiques sur les Traductions latines\nd\u2019Aristote_.\n\n[537] The term Nominalist is here used in the wide sense given to it by\nHaur\u00e9au. See the last chapter of his work on the Scholastic Philosophy.\n\n[538] _Works_ I., p. 405 in Ellis and Spedding\u2019s edition.\n\n[539] \u2018Historia naturalis ... materia prima philosophiae.\u2019 _De Aug._,\nII., iii.\n\n[540] The \u2018notions and conceptions\u2019 of the _Advancement of Learning_\n(_Works_, III., p. 356) is rendered by \u2018axiomata\u2019 in the _De Augmentis_\n(I., p. 567), where in both instances the question is entirely about\nForms. Cp. \u00a7 8 of Prof. Fowler\u2019s Introduction to the _Novum Organum_.\n\n[541] _Analyt. Prior._, II., xxx.\n\n[542] Prof. Bain, after mentioning that the second book of the _Topics_\n\u2018sets forth in a crude condition the principal canons of inductive\nlogic,\u2019 goes on to say that \u2018these statements cannot be called germs\nfor they never germinated\u2019 (Grote\u2019s _Minor Works_, p. 14). May they not\nhave germinated in the _Novum Organum_?\n\n[543] Descartes showed a much deeper insight into the scientific\nconditions of industrial progress than Bacon. His words are, \u2018On peut\ntrouver une philosophie pratique par laquelle connoissant la force\net les actions du feu, de l\u2019eau, de l\u2019air, des astres, des cieux, et\nde tous les autres corps qui nous environnent, aussi distinctement\nque nous connoissons les divers mestiers de nos artisans, nous les\npourrions employer en m\u00eame fa\u00e7on \u00e0 tous les usages auxquels ils sont\npropres, et ainsi nous rendre comme maistres et possesseurs de la\nNature.\u2019 _Discours de la M\u00e9thode_, Sixi\u00e8me Partie. This passage has\nbeen recently quoted by Dr. Bridges (\u2018Comte\u2019s Definition of Life,\u2019\n_Fortnightly Review_ for June 1881, p. 684) to illustrate what seems\na very questionable position. He says that the Copernican astronomy,\nby revealing the infinitude of the universe, made men despair of\ncomprehending nature in her totality, and thus threw them back on\nenquiries of more directly human interest and practical applicability;\nparticularly specifying \u2018the lofty utilitarianism of the _Novum\nOrganum_ and of the _Discours de la M\u00e9thode_,\u2019 as \u2018one of the first\nconcomitants\u2019 \u2018of this intellectual revolution.\u2018 There seems to be a\ndouble misconception here: for, in the first place, Bacon could hardly\nhave been influenced by a theory which he persistently rejected; and,\nin the next place, neither Bacon nor Descartes showed a trace of the\npositivist tendency to despair of attaining absolute and universal\nknowledge. Both of them expected to discover the inmost essences\nof things; and neither of them imagined that a different set of\nconditions might come into play outside the boundaries of the visible\nuniverse. In fact they believed themselves to be enlarging instead\nof restricting the field of mental vision; and it was from this very\nenlargement that they anticipated the most momentous practical results.\nIt was with Locke, as we shall see hereafter, that the sceptical or\nagnostic movement began. In this same article, Dr. Bridges repeats,\nprobably on Comte\u2019s authority, the incredible statement that \u2018Thales\ntaught the Egyptian priests those two or three elementary truths as to\nthe laws of triangles, which enabled them to tell the height of the\npyramid by measuring its shadow.\u2019 Comte\u2019s ignorance or carelessness in\nrelating this story as a well-attested fact was long ago noticed with\nastonishment by Grote. (_Life of George Grote_, p. 204.)\n\n[544] Whewell notices this \u2018Stationary Interval\u2019 (_History of the\nInductive Sciences_, Bk. XVI., chapter iii., sect. 3), but without\ndetermining either its just limits or its real cause.\n\n[545] Compreso che sar\u00e0 il moto di quest\u2019 astro mondano in cui siamo\n... s\u2019aprir\u00e0 la porta de l\u2019intelligenza de li principi veri di cose\nnaturali. _De l\u2019Infinito Universo e Mondi_, p. 51, Wagner\u2019s Ed.\n\n[546] \u2018Sono amputate radici che germogliano, son cose antiche che\nrivegnono. _Ibid._, p. 82.\n\n[547] _Principio Causa et Uno_, p. 225. For David of Dinan, whose\nopinions are known only through the reports of Albertus and Aquinas,\nsee Haur\u00e9au, II., iv.\n\n[548] Galileo\u2019s words are:\u2014\u2018Il moto circulare \u00e8 naturale del tutto e\ndelle parti mentre sono in ottima disposizione.\u2019 _Dialoghi sui Massimi\nSistemi._ _Opere_, Vol. I., p. 265; see also p. 38.\n\n[549] _Dialoghi_, p. 211.\n\n[550] \u2018Non posso trovar termine all\u2019ammirazione mia come abbia possuto\nin Aristarco e nel Copernico far la ragione tanta violenza al senso\nche contro a questo ella si sia fatta padrona della loro credulit\u00e0.\u2019\n_Dialoghi_, p. 358.\n\n[551] _Ibid._, p. 370.\n\n[552] \u2018Kepler \u00e9tait persuad\u00e9 de l\u2019existence de ces lois en suivant\ncette pens\u00e9e de Platon: que Dieu, en cr\u00e9ant le monde, avait d\u00fb faire de\nla g\u00e9ometrie.\u2019 Arago, _\u0152uvres_ III., p. 212.\n\n[553] _De Aug._, III., v. _Works_, I., p. 571.\n\n[554] This is well brought out in a remarkable series of articles\non the Philosophy of Hobbes recently published by T\u00f6nnies in the\n_Vierteljahrsschrift fur wissenschaftliche Philosophie_.\n\n[555] _Leviathan_, chap. xv., _sub fin._\n\n[556] _Leviathan_, chap. xi., _sub fin._\n\n[557] _Leviathan_, chap. vi.\n\n[558] _Spaccio della Bestia Trionfante, sub in._\n\n[559] _Advancement of Learning_, Ellis and Spedding, III., p. 428.\n\n[560] _Republic_, VI., 511, Jowett\u2019s Trans. III., p. 398.\n\n[561] Plotinus himself expresses a doubt as to whether the One is,\nproperly speaking, all things or not (_Enn._, V., ii., _sub in._); but\nin his essay on Substance and Quality, he defines qualities as energies\nof the substance to which they belong (_Enn._, II., vi. 3). Now all\nthings are, according to his philosophy, energies of the One. There\nwould, therefore, be no difficulty in considering it as their substance.\n\n[562]\n\n    \u2014\u2014 Quia multimodis, multis, mutata, per omne\n    Ex infinito vexantur percita plagis,\n    Omne genus motus, et coetus experiundo,\n    Tandem deveniunt in taleis disposituras,\n    Qualibus haec rebus consistit summa creata.\n\n  (I., 1023-7.)\n\n\n[563] V., 853; IV., 780-800; V., 1025.\n\n[564] Just the same remark applies to the monads of Leibnitz. Each\nmonad reflects all the others, and infers that its reflections\nrepresent a reality from the infinite creative power of God. Descartes\u2019\nappeal to the divine veracity represents the same method in a less\ndeveloped stage. The root-idea here is to be sought for, not in Greek\nthought but in the Christian doctrine of a supernatural revelation.\n\n[565] The formal cause of a thing is its species, the concept under\nwhich it is immediately subsumed; the efficient cause is what brings\nit into existence. Thus the formal cause of a man is humanity, the\nefficient cause, his father.\n\n[566] _Eth._, I., prop. xvi.; II., prop. iii.; prop. v.; prop. xviii.,\nschol.; prop. xxviii.; prop. xl., schol. ii.; V., prop. xxix., schol.;\nprop. xl., schol. (The passage last referred to is the clearest and\nmost decisive.)\n\n[567] See the passage from the _Republic_ quoted above.\n\n[568] The tendency of logicians is now, contrariwise, to force\nreasoning into parallelism with mathematical physics by interpreting\nthe proposition as an equation between subject and predicate.\n\n[569] III., prop. ii., schol.\n\n[570] II., vii., schol.\n\n[571] III., ix. and xi.\n\n[572] Greek tragedy is just the reverse\u2014an expansion of the old\npatriarchal relations into a mould fitted to receive the highest\nthought and feeling of a civilised age.\n\n[573] For the whole subject of Spinoza\u2019s mathematical method, see\nWindelband\u2019s paper on Spinoza in the _Vierteljahrsschrift f\u00fcr\nwissenschaftliche Philosophie_, 1877. Some points in the last paragraph\nwere suggested by Mr. Pollock\u2019s _Spinoza_ (pp. 255, 264).\n\n[574] _Essay_, Bk. iv., ch. 12.\n\n[575] See the references to Epict\u00eatus, _supra_, p. 21.\n\n[576] What Aristotle has written on the subject is not ethics but\nnatural history.\n\n[577] \u2018Ne remarque-t-on comment chaque recherche analytique de Laplace\na fait ressortir dans notre globe et dans l\u2019univers des conditions\nd\u2019ordre et de dur\u00e9e?\u2019\u2014Arago, _\u0152uvres_, III., p. 496.\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note:\n\nObvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations\nin hyphenation and ligatures have been standardised but all other\nspelling and punctuation remains unchanged.","title":"The Greek Philosophers, Vol. 2 (of 2)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":148902}