Posts by Eikadistes

I’ve been chewing on isonomy and thinking about different kinds of infinities.

So, mortals have this annoying habit of dying whenever you try to count them all, and that is frustrating, considering that the total number of immortals never decreases. Mortals die all the time. Sometimes, all the mortals on a world die all at once. Sometimes, the total sum of mortals in the universe drops by trillions in a fraction of a second … but, the total sum of immortals in the universe never, ever, ever decreases. Epicurus supposes that there is a mathematical relationship between the value of these two sums (these two different evaluations of infinity).

My readings thus far haven't really provided me with a satisfying justification to see any meaningful value in the concept of isonomy ... so, I thought of another instance of comparative infinities:

Countless particles fall and fall through endless space, but never so much space that the particles become so distant that they never meet to form bodies (nor so many particles that the available space is always already occupied with other particles, and cannot facilitate movement). So, there can never be “too much space” compared to particles, nor can there be “too few particles” compared to space. Our universe hosts a healthy portion of particles-to-void. There is some cosmic variable that express the relationship between the infinte sum of endless space and the infinite sum of innumerable particles. They are both infinities, but not equal.

I wonder if this difference-of-infinities (countless particles vs. endless space) might inform my understand of isonomy (the fluctuating infinity of mortals vs. the stable infinity of immortals)?

I've found some correspondence, with the inspiration of atoms and void:

Perhaps cosmic isonomy is Epicurus' way of describing the ratio of mortals-to-immortals such that we have frequent interactions with mortals but only conceive of immortals. If there were a higher distribution of immortals, then we would have bumped into one. But we haven't. So the density of immortals must be less than that of mortals. Likewise, if there were less significantly less mortals than we observe, then perhaps we would rarely encounter another soul. But we don't. So in this regard, isonomy might provide another reason why first-hand knowledge of the gods is so limited, not just because they are geometrically tucked away from terrestrial forces in adobes between worlds, but also, because their total numbers are stable, and do not fluctuate like numbers of humans (or other animals), and that those numbers are comparatively rare.

This is all purely speculation, on my part.

At the same time, if we take a monolatrist interpretation of Epicurean theology, and suppose that everyone has their own "Zeus" inside of them, then the number of deities definitely does share a 1:1 correspondence with each mortal, 1 God/person. That's another thing I've been chewing.

Great essay! I particular appreciated his treatment of the Earth as an "oblate spheroid" and not a perfect sphere, due to rotational momentum leading to an "equatorial bulge". In the teaching of contemporary science, we champion Heliocentrism and the Spherical Earth theory, but those are incomplete; both theories, though functional, fail to address the nuance of variety.

Even though Epicurus (unlike his opponents) didn't explicitly adopt classical heliocentrism, and even though Lucretius criticized the Spherical Earth theory (though it was functionally demonstrated by Erastothenes centuries earlier), Epicurus' insightful conclusions that "there can be no center to infinity" and that "worlds might be spherical, obloid, or some other shape" turn out to be perfectly coherent with the nuance of contemporary science. Indeed, there can be no perfect, rotating spheres in space, only obloids (due to rotational momentum); indeed, the Sun is not the center of the universe (because the universe is infinite).

The Epicurean approach provided the flexibility and insight to accomodate contemporary discoveries; it seems that Asimov mirrors that. He provides other examples that reflect Epicurean observations. In refuting Socrates, Asimov writes “No one knows nothing. In a matter of days, babies learn to recognize their mothers.” (36)

I maintain that an example of this insightful flexibility can also be demonstrated in Epicurus' treatment of the size of the Sun. He ultimately concludes that he could not determine, with certainty, the size of the sun. I believe we take the fact that we know that the Sun is massively-huge for granted, because we know that it is a G-type yellow, main sequence star. But for all of those millennia, if the Sun were an Earth-sized white-dwarf, we wouldn't have known. If life were sustainable around a neutron star (I'm not sure if it is, but for the sake of argument, let's say it is), then some forms of life in the universe orbit around stars that are smaller than New York City. The proposition that "stars are massively large" is incomplete. Our star happens to be much larger than our world, though we did not appreciate just how much larger until relatively recently.

I do have to disagree with Asimov on one point, that "These are all twentieth-century discoveries, you see." He clearly overlooks the insight of Epicurus!

Quote from Novem

Naturalistic deism?

I hestitate to apply "deism" to Epicurean theology because of the connotation of a creator. The deities in our case are products of nature, never masters. Though, "deism" does shoot closer to the mark when trying to convey a sense of distance between a worshipper and the object of their worship. Using contemporary jargon, I think Epicurean theology is compatible with terms like "polytheism" and "henotheism" (worship of a divine nature manifest as multiple deities), as well as, perhaps "kathenotheism" or "monolatrism" (worship of one deity at a time), or maybe even "inclusive monotheism", depending on the context in which Zeus might be invoked.

Epicurus wrote about numerous (technically "infinite") individual deities (which qualifies the "poly-" part), and each of those deities shared the same divine nature (which might, arguably, justify adding the nuance of "mono-"). Also, we have evidence of ancient Epicureans who were both recognized pan-Hellenically as "Philosophers" and also as local priests; they would have made sacrifices or expressed piety to local deities while maintaining atomism. So, ancient Epicurean philosophy would have been seen as being compatible with Hellenic polytheism, so long as followers reject the Homeric interpretations of gods as being troublesome.

We often return to this point: there is a struggle in trying to define organic expressions of piety while employing vocabulary that has been trademarked by "Big Religion".

I think that part of this inquiry points back to Epicurus' exhortation to Menoikeus to maintain a consistent theology. The critique Epicurus made against the beliefs of the Athenian masses is just poignant and resonant as it is today: Why would and/or how could a divine being prescribe/facilitate/instigate harm? I think it is safe to say that the proposition by some that mass shootings (among other grotesque examples, like the holocaust, or sexual abuse of children) are "part of God's plan" is measurably disturbing (in that it produces anxiety). A pre-modern analogue to this was the inability by most people to provide a confident explanation for atmospheric electrical discharge. The prescription for either is theological consistency.

At the end of the day, I think part of my feeling that some of these words are limited is a point cannot be made more digestible with a proverbial spoonful of sugar because it is one of the fundamental spiritual practices we have, in reciting the definitions of key concepts: if one is willing to use the term "god" in the first place, one must admit that "god" is perfect. The "god of rock" strums the best guitar solos, the "god of pop" is an peerless performer, the "Lord of the Dance" would never trip over their own feet, the "Great One" has the best statistics in the NHL, so a "god" of humans would never condemn humanity, and the "god" of living beings would not threaten lives, and the "divine nature", itself, cannot be responsible for harm.

While I struggle with the idea of piety, personally, this is where I find it to be useful, not necessarily in constructing a positive image of god in my mind, but in deconstructing incoherent assumptions that are largely informed by either unexamined myths or intentional propaganda.

That was a bit of a tangent; I think really just meant to answer with, "atomistic polytheism".

I found that the authors do an exceptional job at providing readers with the latest archaeological findings from the ancient Epicurean world. A chunk of my investigation into early Epicurean communities around the Mediterranean comes from stone inscriptions that I have only found attested to in this book (at least, within the English-speaking world). It's a great resource.

Quote from Robert

Hello, friends! I look forward to many interesting conversations here.

I'm a newcomer to Epicureanism, and have been immersing myself in a sort of self-conducted crash course over the past several weeks. I read DeWItt (based on recommendations here), several of the essays in "Epicurus and the Epicurean Tradition" (Fish/Sanders), Robert Brown's "Lucretius on Love and Sex," and most recently Voula tsouna's book on the ethics of Philodemus.

My entry into philosophy came via Buddhism. After exploring that path for several years I concluded there were too many things that i couldn't accept. And I noticed that when I put the problem areas aside, the results looked quite a bit like Epicureanism. That got me interested in learning more.

I live in Maryland, work in university communications, and have four cats. Nice to meet everyone, and thank you for making this wonderful resource available!

Welcome, Robert! I think you will find some interesting discussion about comparisons between Buddhism and Epicurean Philosophy here: 2022 Epicurus vs Buddhism Compare and Contrast Thread. (I actually just re-visted it, inspired by some new, yet unrelated investigation I've been doing).

Incidentally, I am re-reading parts of the Dhammapada, and I am reminded how antithetical many of the propositions in ancient Buddhist scriptures are to Epicurean Philosophy. We do find similarities in the evaluation of mindfulness, the importance of community, and a commitment to a behavioral code, but I think we will find these features in most wisdom traditions. The rest is ... well, I believe that Nietzsche shares a useful conclusion in referring to it as "life-negating":

• Just as a storm throws down a weak tree, so does Mara overpower the man who lives for the pursuit of pleasures..." (7)
• "Just as rain does not break through a well-thatched house, so passion never penetrates a well-developed mind." (14)
• “Do not give way to heedlessness. Do not indulge in sensual pleasures. Only the heedful and meditative attain great happiness.” (27)
• "But those who act according to the perfectly taught Dhamma will cross the realm of Death, so difficult to cross." (86)
• "Giving up sensual pleasures, with no attachment, let the wise man cleanse himself of defilements of the mind." (88)
• “Inspiring are the forests in which worldlings find no pleasure. There the passionless will rejoice, for they seek no sensual pleasures.” (99)
• "... upon dissolution of the body that ignorant man is born in hell." (140)
• “Easy to do are things that are bad and harmful to oneself. But exceedingly difficult to do are things that are good and beneficial.” (163)
• “… The righteous live happily both in this world and the next.” (169)
• "Swans fly on the path of the sun; men pass through the air by psychic powers; the wise are led away from the world after vanquishing Mara and his host." (175)
• "Happy indeed we live, we who possess nothing. Feeders on joy we shall be, like the Radiant Gods." (200)
• "Seek no intimacy with the beloved and also not with the unloved, for not to see the beloved and to see the unloved, both are painful. Therefore hold nothing dear, for separation from the dear is painful. There are no bonds for those who have nothing beloved or unloved. From endearment springs grief, from endearment springs fear. From him who is wholly free from endearment there is no grief, whence then fear? From affection springs grief, from affection springs fear. From him who is wholly free from affection there is no grief, whence then fear? From attachment springs grief, from attachment springs fear. From him who is wholly free from attachment there is no grief, whence then fear?" (210-214)
• "Your life has come to an end now; You are setting forth into the presence of Yama, the king of death. No resting place is there for you on the way, yet you have made no provision for the journey!" (237)
• "Unchastity is the taint in a woman..." (242)
• "Of all the paths the Eightfold Path is the best; of all the truths the Four Noble Truths are the best; of all things passionlessness is the best: of men the Seeing One (the Buddha) is the best. This is the only path; there is none other for the purification of insight. Tread this path, and you will bewilder Mara." (273-274)
• "Cut off your affection in the manner of a man plucks with his hand an autumn lotus..." (285)

Like Epicurus' opponents, early Buddhists (as recorded in the texts) do not distinguish between stable pleasure versus excessive pleasures. They describe pleasures to be necessarily excessive, intrinsically insatiable, fundamentally destructive, and ultimately evil. In this regard, as far as general ethical positions go, this attitude is categorically Platonic or Stoic.

Likewise, the treatment of identity and death seems to be irreconcilable with Epicurean Philosophy. Most ancient Indian philosophies (Buddhism included, among dozens of others) propose that our identity can be reduced to an indestructible Self, distinct from bodily phenomena, carrying a trans-dimensional record of a Self's ethical history, and that record dictates into which new, animal body the indestructible Self will manifest, and from which bodies it will be restricted.

Granted, while the physics are off, there is some ethical coherence. The descriptions of the Awakened One by Buddhists and the Wise Man by Epicureans share similar descriptions: an admirable person, godlike in behavior, fearless, patient, mindful, kind, peaceable, a preventer of violence, never impulsive, who acts in accordance with their beliefs. (Then again, as I propose, the reason for this coherence is because ethics is grounded in nature, and that nature affects everyone, regardless of the beliefs that arose from their niche, cultural context:)

• "One is not wise because one speaks much. He who is peaceable, friendly and fearless is called wise." (258)

However, even as such, the specific ethical rules dictated by early Buddhists are extensive, uncompromising, and, from my perspective, perilously conservative. Most of these rules (as I understand them) were not intended for people outside of the early monastic community. Siddhartha prescribes a monastic life for his followers, so ethical guidelines are contextualized within the life of a monk or nun. As far as that goes, Sex seems to be Enemy #1.

The very first book of the Pāli Canon (the ancient Buddhist scriptures) is a code of conduct for bhikkhus ("monks") and bhikkhunis ("nuns"). To note a few of those rules:

• Sexual intercourse leads to complete expulsion from the monastic community. (Pārājika 1)
• Masturbating warrants correction. (Saṅghādisesa 1)
• Holding hands with another person warrants correction. (Saṅghādisesa 2)
• Marriage proposals warrant correction. (Saṅghādisesa 5)
• Huts not built to the Buddha's design specifications warrant correction. (Saṅghādisesa 6)

This is followed by hundreds (and hundreds) of other restrictions that seem to govern every aspect of an early Buddhist mendicant's day, from the way they dress, to the way they shave, walk, eat, speak and, most importantly, which thoughts are acceptable thoughts to entertain.

If there is a foil to Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n' Roll, I think it might be Buddhism.

Now, having levied that critique, let me also add that I don't know of many Buddhists who hold themselves accountable to a 2,500-year-old monastic code, so I don't want to skewer Buddhism and Buddhists on the basis on texts, and a historical figure, who are no longer as revered as are more recent texts, mantras, and historical figures who have cultivated the tradition. My friends who have invited me to Buddhist gatherings primarily use East Asian literature that has been written in the last few hundred years, as opposed to Indian literature that goes back thousands of years. I find similarities with my own, Protestant upbringing, in which the hymns and liturgy we recite are only as old as the King James Bible, and Bible Study rarely included a study of ancient Greek.

Still, I hold other traditions to the same standard that I hold my own: "Why would I follow X/Y Tradition if I genuinely reject X/Y Founder's teachings?" For me, as a kid, the teachings of Jesus seemed antiquated, and did not provide me with solutions to apply to my troubles. However, Epicurus nailed evolution and quantum indeterminism, and I award him bonus points for his insight in the form of representing myself as a member of his tradition. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Siddhartha said that sex is as questionable as murder. I have to reject this.

Quote from Don

Maybe he died the year he would have turned 72 but it was before his birthday that year?

I think that's likely.

I'm an Epicurean, not a mathematician, so I'm not confident with my numbers.

Even so, the dates and ages that Diogenes Laërtius presents do not add up (according to my calculations).

If Epicurus was born in the early months of 341 BCE, then his 72^nd birthday would have landed in the early months of 269 BCE (the 3^rd year of the 127^th Olympiad) and not 270 BCE (the 2^nd year of the of 127^th Olympiad). Therefore, it must either be the case that (a) Epicurus died when he was 71 (and not 72) during the archonship of Sosistratus, or else (b) he died in 269 BCE during the archonship of Pytharatus. Otherwise, Epicurus would have to have been born in the 2^nd year of the 109th Olympiad (early 342 BCE) during the archonship of Pythodotus (and not the 3^rd year [342-341 BCE] during the archonship of Sosigenes). Either way, Diogenes’ propositions that Epicurus (1) was born in the “third year of the 109th Olympiad [342-341 BCE] during the archonship of Sosigenes”, that (2) he died “in the second year of the 127th Olympiad, in the archonship of Pytharatus [271-270 BCE]” and that (3) he died “at the age of seventy-two” cannot all be true. Diogenes is either mistaking the dates, or Epicurus’ age.

Given the clarity of the archonships that Diogenes presents, which is supported by other authors, I suppose that Diogenes made an error: Epicurus died when he was 71 (not 72).

Quote from Don

Quote from Joshua

The planets are stars in this analysis--they are the "wandering stars" spoken of in the Letter to Pythocles;

Exactly. The ancient Greeks saw those as literally "wandering stars." They didn't think of them as "worlds" or "planets" like we conceive of a planet as another body circling a star. They're not a kosmos. They're simply ἄστρων πλανᾶσθαι, astron planasthai, stars who for some reason wander across the άστρα that are fixed in place in the night sky.

I love the way they described celestial objects.

Everything in the sky was one kind of "glower" or another. There are countless "glowers" that twinkle. There are a limited number of "wandering glowers" like Jupiter. Then we have "long-haired glowers" like Halley's Comet (which Epicurus should have seen with Nausiphanes). Everything else seems to have been categorized as "remaining glowers", which might have included things like meteors, or perhaps even the Andromeda Galaxy (which would have been visible to ancient peoples without ambient light). Our "kosmos", I think, should contain all the "glowers" we can see.

Space is great.

Quote from Don

These are off the top of my head. I also said above that "I don't intend to pray" but looking at what I've typed... who knows. Maybe I'll try one of those forms of "prayer" in the future after all.

I think you've identified a key question I need to answer, which is "how did Epicureans pray?"

When I think of "prayer", my mind goes to intercession, which, I think, Epicurus would have identified as a kind of wish-fulfillment. He definitely rejects this. He acknowledges that the gods are completely removed from the stage of the human drama. They aren't even in the audience. They don't even live around the theatre. (It seems likely that they don't go to shows.)

Then we have various forms of vocal prayer, hymns, songs, chanting, and mantras. I think we can find an example of this sort of prayer in Greek theatre. It was musical, religious, and DeWitt (as I recall) describes Epicurus as having been a regular participant. This sort of prayer seems to have provided Epicurus and his friends with a sort of practical utility that was inherently pleasurable.

Meditation is, I think, another form of prayer we can identify (or perhaps "prayer" is a form of "meditation"? The ways we employ these words in English are slippery). Of kind of meditation, I do not think that formless meditation works in this case (in other words, emptying oneself of all sensations, totally withdrawing inward, focusing on concepts like non-existence).

Contemplative prayer is defined in various ways, but in an Epicurean sense, I think this might be a useful framework in which to discuss piety. Ancient Epicureans memorized the Key Doctrines of Epicurean ethics, and the Elementary Principles of his physics. In this regard, I can accept prayer as a natural, cognitive practice, and can acknowledge that I engage in this behavior.

There are other forms we can identify as well. This is just to identify some categories.

So, maybe it's safe to say that Epicurean prayer was as reasonable as "listening to pleasurable music" and "studying nature", so long as those practices yield a happier life.

I might just be griping about a childhood conundrum no one has ever answered satisfactorily:

In 2nd-grade, I learned about ancient Egypt, and I learned that Egyptians had other gods than Jesus. So I wondered, "If the people who built pyramids had thousands of years of history without knowing Jesus, how do we know that Jesus is 'the real god', or even matters at all?"

The minute I accepted that ancient Egyptians had other gods (that Jesus was not the only object of worship) the notion of a "god" suddenly seemed very small, and very imaginary.

I continue to have suspicions about the "Idealist" interpretation:

What good is a god that is just a dream?

The whole thing strikes me as an example of the placebo effect. The placebo effect tends to stop working the moment the test subject realizes that they are just a test subject.

For a different example, typically, after a child learns that Santa Claus is a cultural myth, they stop putting out milk and cookies before going to bed. Furthermore, there are no children who believe in one of the mythical figures (like the Easter Bunny) while simultaneously rejecting another (like Santa Claus). The principle that allows you to reject one is applicable to the others.

If you go from being a person who prays (as wish fulfillment), and then you learn that god does not listen to prayers and does not grant wishes ... what's the point of praying?

I go back-and-forth with my family on the latter point. They all recommend prayer, and either believes that God answers their prayers, or that the act of praying to God makes them feel peaceful. For me, I cannot find peace in a God that only exists as a symbol in my mind. In fact, that very acknowledgment is the thing that makes me feel like prayer is ridiculous in the first place.

Really, it's not just the "idealist" interpretation.

Honestly, what's the point of prayer if no one is listening?

I've really never been able to accept Epicurean theology ... unless we're talking about drugs. If we can all entertain the idea that "the image of god" is something that happens "when you drink kykeon during Dionysian mystery rites", then I am 100% on board. That is a real experience, it is repeatable, it is measurable, we have thousands of years of documented "encounters with gods" while ingesting intoxicants from every human group, during every time period in history. The experience is overwhelmingly positive. (If you have any personal doubts, just look at research being done with Pscilocybin, LSD, and MDMA on post-traumatic stress and depression.)

Still ... I have equal doubts about my proposition that Epicureans were tripping.

Why couldn't Epicurus have just said "Gods are no more real than monsters and other dream-entities. You are taking a huge cognitive risk in entertaining the possibilities of either one"?

Another way of saying this is that no matter how many time evolution starts over, it will eventually yield a "crab"-creature. Likewise, no matter how many times humans re-engineer language, we will require a word for "divinity", because, as seems to be apparent, it is natural and necessary.

Quote from shahabgh66

But sometimes names and their connotations catch my eyes

I think you're on to something here, shahabgh66 in terms of what I want to call a sort of convergent evolution of linguistics. There is a universal need to define spiritual concepts, and the ways we wield language lead to symbols that converges upon common metaphors.

For example, prior to their adoption of Χριστιανός (Khristianós or "Christian"), worshippers of the Christ simply referred to themselves as followers of της οδου (tês hodoû) or “The Way“. Thousands of miles away, separated by centuries, a group of ancient Chinese philosophers, alchemists, and mystics followed the universal 道 or (Dào”) meaning “road”, “path” or “Way”.

There are other examples (such as identifying "God", literally, with "Wisdom")

There is an interesting study done on the development of words referring to color (as an example). The study was published in a book by Brent Berlin and Paul Kay called Basic Color Terms: Their Universality and Evolution (1969). Essentially, they demonstrate that isolated groups of humans will develop words for color in a predictable pattern: cultures with only two color words only had words for "bright" and "dark". With third word, it is always "red" (etc.).

In that same way, I think (in the development of language), different groups of humans are compelled by psychological needs to express certain, universal experiences, like the experience of dreaming, of being intoxicated, or experiencing necrosis, or witnessing others' deaths.

Along those lines, as Epicurus recognizes in KD5 and KD6, the structures of society, leadership roles and economic exchanges, develop naturally out of a common benefit. Therein, different groups of peoples exalt admirable, magnificent figures characterized as being "helpers".

We all have some word for "soul", and that word always seems to correlate concepts like "personality", "awareness", "will", and "the part of us that's 'awake' when we dream at night". We (apparently) have a common need to express "spirituality", and that word always seems to correlate concepts like "psychology", "self-help", "art", "meditation", and "the need to organize mental phenomenon during times of over-stimulation". There are many other examples.

While the particular characteristics of the words differ depending on the filter of culture, there seem to be universal, pre-conceptual notions that we are compelled to identify by need. The common notion of "the religious experience", of "the divine nature", or "the gods" falls in this category as a universal experience that isolated peoples share.

In this regard, I suppose that the archetype of a "savior", a "guru", or a "helper" might be one such common notion, instigated by a universal need to express the experience of a "spiritual guide". We all have personal role models, and groups of us have universal saviors.

Philodemos provides a number of examples of deductive reasoning in On Methods of Inference [https://twentiers.com/on-signs/] and seems to negate inductive reasoning:

He suggests that the following deduction is valid:

‘Since the men in our experience, in so far as and according
as they are men, are mortal,
‘Men everywhere are mortal,’

Whereas the following inductive assumption is invalid:

‘Since men in our experience are mortal,
‘Men everywhere are mortal,’

As Philodemos writes, "the analogical method of inference is not cogent; and on the whole if it is cogent, it must assume that unperceived objects are like those in our experience.”

However, he later asserts that "it will be sufficient for us to base our belief on probability in these matters, just as we do in regard to what is learned from trial; for example, that we shall be safe sailing in summer, since we have had experience of favorable winds in that season." If I'm reading that right, he seems to be saying that inductive reasoning tends to be inaccurate; however, it is at least functional, and, anticipating Pragmatists like William James, we can consider it true (enough).

I'll need to go back to the original Greek to identify the named methods of inference, because he seems to either accept or reject "argument from analogy", depending on the context: As he writes, "if anyone uses the argument from analogy properly, he will not fail, and we consider that our statement is true", whereas, he earlier states"the analogical method of inference is not cogent".

I find the text to be challenging, but, ultimately, it seems to me that Philodemos is providing us with examples of functional methods of inference that are not necessarily definite, only probable. Ultimately, it is up to our sensations to provide evidence to justify any given proposition.

Quote from Godfrey

So if I'm reading correctly Eikadistes , you're saying that "amount" isn't a part of the original Greek? Am I understanding that correctly?

Within the context of Userner/Arrighetti's renderings, I believe that is correct. I do not find an ancient Greek noun that corresponds with our noun "amount". The word being employed ἴσην (ísēn) is an adjective meaning "equal" or "the same as". The noun that the adjective is modifying is "pleasure", so adding a second noun to that clause (in my opinion) is semantically unnecessary.

Though, again, I don't mean to make too big of a deal out of it. It's mostly stylistic.

Quote from Cassius

the thread topic question, as to substituting "pain" in the place of "pleasure,"

Cassiusthis isn't clear. Your post quotes the Doxa in its entirety: "Would Epicurus say: 'Infinite Time contains no more pain than limited time when the limit of pain is measured by reason?'"

Quote from Cassius

but if you could also comment on whether it works to substitute pain, that would be good too.

My answer therefore changes from "No-ish" to a confident "No". "No more pain" is not the same as "continuous pleasure" because "no more pain" also includes "death", and that's no good. This is where we dodge the Cyrenaics accusation that our goal in life is that of a corpse.

No-ish, but only over a few stylistic caveats in translation:

Usener and/or Arrighetti transcribe (what I read as) the reflexive pronoun αὐτῆς (autês), which is a feminine declension of αὐτός (autós). In my translation, I came up with the following:

“Unlimited time contains the same pleasure as that which is limited, if a person herself measures the limits by reason.”

While I usually prefer to employ gender-neutral language (for example, preferring "Sage" to "Wise Man"), I note that Epicurus sometimes employs feminine declensions of words, and where he does, I think it is important to give it its due. (For example, throughout the Epistle to Pythokles, unlike the other letters, Epicurus refers to "the gods" (theon) in the feminine theia or "divine [nature]".)

(I'm also seeing autês as specifying the other, general pronoun τις meaning "someone", "who", "one", or "a person" ... though it may actually be describing or reinforcing something else.)

We also find the adjective ἴσην (ísēn), the feminine, accusative singular of of ῐ̓́σος (ísos) which indicates that which is "equal" or "the same". Translating "no greater than" (even in a mathematical sense) does not express the same thing, but carries a slightly different connotation

With this in mind, I think that the sentence is comparing two instances of maximum sustained states of pleasure. Contextually, we are discussing two πέρατα (pérata) or "limits" of pleasure), one lasting less than 125 years, and one lasting forever [i.e. the pleasure of the gods]. Here is another instance, like KD1, of Epicurus mentioning a "god" without ever using the word for "god".)

It's a small caveat, but it does slightly change the meaning. For me, it indicates that our lives are not diminished due to the fact that we are not immortal. Achieving the goal of life is not reserved for godlike person; we can all enjoy the universal goal toward which all life is directed.

Stylistically, I also note that ἡδονήν (hēdonḗn) is only used once by Epicurus in the original Greek. That is just an aesthetic choice, and does not affect the semantics of the sentence.

Quote from Don

I also think it's important to disregard the PD numbers.

Always this.

Quote from Bryan

You really have made a beautiful website. It is very well organized, and it is filled only with treasures.

Thank you for that!

All treasures to share.

Quote from Bryan

Does using Epíkouros add another layer of complexity, or does it get us closer to source?

You're reading my mind, because I go back-and-forth on how I'd like to identify each historical figure. One on hand, the Latinized names of figures (like Athenaeus) are more recognizable, and that recognition can be helpful to students (versus seeing "Athenaios"). At the same time, as with Loukianos, I want to steer students away from pronunciations like Lucian /'luːsiːən/ that have been historically Latinized; but with our source material and access to ancient sources, that seems like an unnecessary step, so I push away from /miːno.'iːsiːəs/ toward /mɛː'nɔɪ.ke.uːs/ for example. In the case of Epíkouros, I go back-and-forth. In each case, I try to provide both options somewhere on the site.

The proverbial spirit has moved me, so I have included critical selections from Athenaeus, Eusebius, and Lactantius that reference Epicurus and his philosophy.

I added a number of critical authors to the website, including Cicero, Seneca, Sextus Empiricus, and several works of Plutarch (here is Against Colotes, among others: https://twentiers.com/colotes/)