Aristotle
sides, it is plain that the mass so formed will be regular and
spherical; and, even if not equally from all sides, this will make no
difference in the reasoning; for, since all portions of the mass have
weight or tend to the centre, the larger portions will necessarily
push the lesser before them as far as the centre (ss. 8, 9).
A difficulty here presents itself, which may be solved upon the same
principles. The Earth being spherical, and at the centre, suppose
that a vast additional weight were applied to either of its
hemispheres. In that case, the centre of the Universe, and the centre
of the Earth, would cease to coincide: either, therefore, the Earth
will not remain at the centre; or, if it would still remain at rest,
while not occupying the centre, it is in its nature to be moved even
now (s. 10: [Greek: ô(/ste ê)\ ou) menei= e)pi\ tou= me/sou, ê)\
ei)/per ê)remê/sei ge kai\ mê\ to\ me/son e)/chousa ê)=|,
pe/phuke kinei=sthai kai\ nu=n])--_i.e._, if the Earth _can_ be at
rest when not at the centre, we must infer that the centre is not its
natural place, and therefore that its nature will be to be moved from
the centre towards that natural place wherever situated).
Such is a statement of the difficulty; but we shall see that it may
be cleared up with a little attention. We must distinguish what we
mean when we affirm that every particle having weight is carried
towards the centre. We clearly do not mean that it will be so carried
until the particles farthest from the centre shall touch the centre.
We mean that the greater mass must press with preponderating force
([Greek: dei= kratei=n to\ plei=on e(/ôs a)\n la/bê| tô=| au(tou=
me/sô| to\ me/son]) until its centre grasps the centre of the
universe; up to this point its gravity will last; and this is equally
true about any clod of earth as about the whole earth: large or small
size makes no difference. Whether the whole Earth were carried in a
mass from any given position, or whether it were carried in separate
particles, in either case it would be carried onward until it
embraced the centre equally on all sides; the smaller parts being
equalized to the greater in gravitating tendency because they are
pushed forward by the greater ([Greek: a)nisazome/nôn tô=n
e)latto/nôn u(po\ tô=n meizo/nôn tê=| proô/sei]--s. 11). If,
therefore, the Earth was ever generated, it must have been generated
in this manner, and must thus acquire a spherical figure; and, even
if it be ungenerable and stationary from everlasting, we must
conceive its figure to be that which it would have acquired, if it
had been generable and generated from the first ([Greek: ei)/te
a)ge/nnêtos a)ei\ me/nousa, to\n au)to\n tro/pon e)/chein, o(/nper
ka)\n ei) gignome/nê to\ prô=ton e)ge/neto]). That it must be
spherical, we see not only from this reasoning, but also because all
heavy bodies are carried towards it, not in parallel lines but, in
equal angles. This is what naturally happens with what is either
actually spherical, or by nature spherical. Now we ought to call
every thing such as it by nature wishes to become and to be: we ought
not to call it such as it is by force and contrary to nature (s. 12).
The same conclusion is established by the sensible facts within our
observation. If the Earth had been of any other than spherical
figure, the eclipses of the Moon would not have projected on the Sun
the outlines which we now see. The moon in her configurations
throughout the month takes on every variety of outline--rectilinear,
double convex, and hollow. But in her eclipses the distinguishing
line is always convex. Now this must necessarily be occasioned by the
circumference of the Earth being spherical, since the eclipses of the
Moon arise from the interposition of the Earth (s. 13).
Farthermore, we see from the visible phenomena of the stars not only
that the Earth is spherical, but also that its magnitude is not
great. For, when we change our position a little as observers, either
to the north or to the south, we find the celestial horizon to be
manifestly different. The stars at the zenith are greatly changed,
and the same stars do not appear: some stars are visible in Egypt and
Cyprus, but become invisible when we proceed farther north; and those
which are constantly visible in the northern regions, are found to be
not constantly visible, but to set, when the observer is in Egypt or
Cyprus. The bulk of the Earth must therefore be small, when a small
change of position is made so soon manifest to us (s. 14). Hence
those who hold that the regions near the pillars of Herakles join on
with India and that the ocean eastward and westward is one and the
same, must not be supposed to talk extravagantly ([Greek: mê\ li/an
u(polamba/nein a)/pista dokei=n]): they infer this from the presence
of elephants alike at both extremities. Geometers who try to
calculate the magnitude of the Earth, affirm that its circumference
is 400,000 stadia.
It follows necessarily from all these reasonings, that the body of
the Earth is not only of spherical form, but also not large compared
with the magnitude of the other Stars (ss. 15, 16).
[The remaining two books of the treatise known by the title 'De
Coelo,' while connected with the foregoing, are still more closely
connected with the two Books composing the treatise entitled 'De
Generatione et Corruptione.' The discussion carried on throughout the
two treatises is in truth one; but, if anywhere broken, it is at the
end of Book II. De Coelo, as above. From this point Aristotle
proceeds to consider (in four Books) the particular phenomena
presented by natural bodies--phenomena of Generation and Destruction
(in the widest sense of these words)--dependent on the opposition of
the upward and downward motions; bodies, thus light or heavy, being
thence seen to be ultimately reducible to four elements variously
combined. Treating of the Kosmos in its larger aspects, the first two
Books of De Coelo, here abstracted, are obviously those that alone
correspond strictly to the name of the treatise.]
V.
EPIKURUS
Our information from Epikurean writers respecting the doctrines of
their sect is much less copious than that which we possess from Stoic
writers in regard to Stoic opinions. We have no Epikurean writer on
philosophy except Lucretius; whereas respecting the Stoical creed
under the Roman Empire, the important writings of Seneca, Epictetus,
and Marcus Antoninus, afford most valuable evidence.
The standard of Virtue and Vice is referred by Epikurus to Pleasure
and Pain. Pain is the only evil, Pleasure is the only good. Virtue is
no end in itself, to be sought; vice is no end in itself, to be
avoided. The motive for cultivating virtue and banishing vice arises
from the consequences of each, as the means of multiplying pleasures
and averting or lessening pains. But to the attainment of this
purpose, the complete supremacy of Reason is indispensable; in order
that we may take a right comparative measure of the varieties of
pleasure and pain, and pursue the course that promises the least
amount of suffering.
This theory (taken in its most general sense, and apart from
differences in the estimation of particular pleasures and pains), had
been proclaimed long before the time of Epikurus. It is one of the
various theories of Plato; for in his dialogue called Protagoras
(though in other dialogues he reasons differently) we find it
explicitly set forth and elaborately vindicated by his principal
spokesman, Sokrates, against the Sophist Protagoras. It was also held
by Aristippus (companion of Sokrates along with Plato) and by his
followers after him, called the Kyrenaics. Lastly, it was maintained
by Eudoxus, one of the most estimable philosophers contemporary with
Aristotle. Epikurus was thus in no way the originator of the theory;
but he had his own way of conceiving it, his own body of doctrine
physical, cosmological, and theological, with which it was
implicated, and his own comparative valuation of pleasures and pains.
Bodily feeling, in the Epikurean psychology, is prior in order of
time to the mental element; the former is primordial, while the
latter is derived from it by repeated processes of memory and
association. But, though such is the order of sequence and
generation, yet when we compare the two as constituents of happiness
to the formed man, the mental element much outweighs the bodily, both
as pain and as pleasure. Bodily pain or pleasure exists only in the
present; when not felt, it is nothing. But mental feelings involve
memory and hope, embrace the past as well as the future, endure for a
long time, and may be recalled or put out of sight, to a great
degree, at our discretion.
This last point is one of the most remarkable features of the
Epikurean mental discipline. Epikurus deprecated the general habit of
mankind in always hankering after some new satisfaction to come;
always discontented with the present, and oblivious of past comforts
as if they had never been. These past comforts ought to be treasured
up by memory and reflection, so that they might become as it were
matter for rumination, and might serve, in trying moments, even to
counterbalance extreme physical suffering. The health of Epikurus
himself was very bad during the closing years of his life. There
remains a fragment of his last letter, to an intimate friend and
companion, Idomeneus:--"I write this to you on the last day of my
life, which, in spite of the severest internal bodily pains, is still
a happy day, because I set against them in the balance all the mental
pleasure felt in the recollection of my past conversations with you.
Take care of the children left by Metrodorus, in a manner worthy of
your demeanour from boyhood towards me and towards philosophy."
Bodily pain might thus be alleviated, when it occurred; it might be
greatly lessened in occurrence, by prudent and moderate habits;
lastly, even at the worst, if violent, it never lasted long; if not
violent, it might be patiently borne, and was at any rate terminated,
or terminable at pleasure, by death.
In the view of Epikurus, the chief miseries of life arose, not from
bodily pains, but partly from delusions of hope and exaggerated
aspirations for wealth, honours, power, &c., in all which the objects
appeared most seductive from a distance, inciting man to lawless
violence and treachery, while in the reality they were always
disappointments and generally something worse; partly, and still
more, from the delusions of fear. Of this last sort, were the two
greatest torments of human existence--fear of Death and of eternal
suffering after death, as announced by prophets and poets, and fear
of the Gods. Epikurus, who did not believe in the continued existence
of the soul separate from the body, declared that there could never
be any rational ground for fearing death, since it was simply a
permanent extinction of consciousness. Death was nothing to us (he
said): when death comes, _we_ are no more, either to suffer or to
enjoy. Yet it was the groundless fear of this nothing that poisoned
all the tranquillity of life, and held men imprisoned even when
existence was a torment. Whoever had surmounted that fear was armed
at once against cruel tyranny and against all the gravest
misfortunes. Next, the fear of the gods was not less delusive, and
hardly less tormenting, than the fear of death. It was a capital
error (Epikurus declared) to suppose that the gods employed
themselves as agents in working or superintending the march of the
Kosmos; or in conferring favour on some men, and administering
chastisement to others. The vulgar religious tales, which represented
them in this character, were untrue and insulting as regards the gods