Epicurus in Frankston – PichiAvo
www.pichiavo.com
Quite an interesting project here!
Quite an interesting project here!
I would compare the Twentieth to a Burns Supper, a Scottish festivity held in January to commemorate the life and poetry of Scotland's national Bard every year on his birthday; the poet Robert Burns.
Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care,
I gie them a skelp as they're creeping alang,
Wi' a cog o' gude swats and an auld Scottish sang.
Chorus-Contented wi' little, &c.
I whiles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought;
But Man is a soger, and Life is a faught;
My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,
And my Freedom's my Lairdship nae monarch dare touch.
Contented wi' little, &c.
A townmond o' trouble, should that be may fa',
A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a':
When at the blythe end o' our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?
Contented wi' little, &c.
Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way;
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae:
Come Ease, or come Travail, come Pleasure or Pain,
My warst word is: "Welcome, and welcome again!"
Contented wi' little, &c.
Everything I know about him is in post #8, and the Wikipedia biography is relatively short.
QuoteThe tales of Fabricius are the standard ones of austerity and incorruptibility, similar to those told of Curius Dentatus, and Cicero often cites them together; it is difficult to make out a true personality behind the virtues.
"Cicero seems to be honestly and entirely unaware of the firm basis for justice which Epicureanism provided. He can see nothing beyond the fear of punishment, and therefore the fear of detection, - and yet he has Torquatus say that the necessary things of life can be won without injustice. He omits the social contract as a basis of justice. He does not see the doctrine as a whole."
"Moreover Cicero's failure to explain or attack the Epicurean theory of justice and the social compact is a significant omission in his discussion of Epicurean virtue."
This is Mary Porter Packer's summation of Cicero on Epicurus and Justice. Was Cicero confusing morality with justice, and inferring that Epicurus' morality was based on mutual advantage? Cicero has his god-ordained moral law, but Epicurus looks to the covenants made by the multitude for his morality? Did he utterly fail to comprehend what Epicurus was actually saying!?
Mary Porter Packer does not directly address the "babble of the multitude" question. Her general summation of De Finibus is that Cicero is a baffled, misreading, and unreliable transmitter of Epicureanism, because his signal failure is in refusing to consider each of Epicurus' claims in light of the whole philosophy. So I am at a loss, except in this respect; if Cicero believed that Epicurus looked to the multitude for his understanding of morality, CICERO WAS WRONG.
Do we know what the source is for the "babble of the crowd" bit? He seems to be attributing this to Epicurus, but I don't know of any citation that would support the claim. Epicurus is often mistrustful of the judgment of the crowd. The opinions of the multitude are wrong concerning the nature of the gods, wrong about celestial bodies, wrong about the causes of things, and so on.
VS29. To speak frankly as I study nature I would prefer to speak in oracles that which is of advantage to all men even though it be understood by none, rather than to conform to popular opinion and thus gain the constant praise that comes from the many.
VS45. The study of nature does not create men who are fond of boasting and chattering or who show off the culture that impresses the many, but rather men who are strong and self-sufficient, and who take pride in their own personal qualities not in those that depend on external circumstances.
VS67. Since the attainment of great wealth can scarcely be accomplished without slavery to crowds or to politicians, a free life cannot obtain much wealth; but such a life already possesses everything in unfailing supply. Should such a life happen to achieve great wealth, this too it can share so as to gain the good will of one's neighbors.
VS81. The soul neither rids itself of disturbance nor gains a worthwhile joy through the possession of greatest wealth, nor by the honor and admiration bestowed by the crowd, or through any of the other things sought by unlimited desire.
In the Letter to Menoikeus, he makes it seem as though the Hoi Polloi are wrong about everything!
Very strange. Here is an alternative translation;
Quote
There, Torquatus, is a full, detailed and complete scheme of Moral Worth, a whole of which these four virtues, which you also mentioned, constitute the parts. Yet your Epicurus tells us that he is utterly at a loss to know what nature or qualities are assigned to this Morality by those who make it the measure of the Chief Good. For if Morality be the standard to which all things are referred, while yet they will not allow that pleasure forms any part of it, he declares that they are uttering sounds devoid of sense (those are his actual words), and that he has no notion or perception whatever of any meaning that this term Morality can have attached to it. In common parlance 'moral' (honourable) means merely that which ranks high in popular esteem. And popular esteem, says Epicurus, though often in itself more agreeable than certain forms of pleasure, yet is desired simply as a means to pleasure.Do you realize how vast a difference of opinion this is? Here is a famous philosopher, whose influence has spread not only over Greece and Italy but throughout all barbarian lands as well, protesting that he cannot understand what Moral Worth is, if it does not consist in pleasure; unless indeed it be that which wins the approval and applause of the multitude. For my part I hold that what is popular is often positively base, and that, if ever it is not base, this is only when the multitude happens to applaud something that is right and praiseworthy in and for itself; which even so is not called 'moral' (honourable) because it is widely applauded, but because it is of such a nature that even if men were unaware of its existence, or never spoke of it, it would still be worthy of praise for its own beauty and loveliness. Hence Epicurus is compelled by the irresistible force of instinct to say in another passage what you also said just now, that it is impossible to live pleasantly without also living morally (honourably). What does he mean by 'morally' now? The same as 'pleasantly'? If so, does it amount to saying that it is impossible to live morally unless you — live morally? Or, unless you make public opinion your standard? He means then that he cannot live pleasantly without the approval of public opinion? But what can be baser than to make the conduct of the Wise Man depend upon the gossip of the foolish? What therefore does he understand by 'moral' in this passage? Clearly, nothing but that which can be rightly praised for its own sake. For if it be praised as being a means to pleasure, what is there creditable about this? You can get pleasure at the provision-dealer's. No, — Epicurus, who esteems Moral Worth so highly as to say that it is impossible to live pleasantly without it, is not the man to identify 'moral' (honourable) with 'popular' and maintain that it is impossible to live pleasantly without popular esteem; he cannot understand 'moral" to mean anything else than that which is right, — that which is in and for itself, independently, intrinsically, and of its own nature praiseworthy.
Anybody got an idea where this stuff comes from? Perhaps Cicero didn't read Greek as well as he thought he did...but I have to assume that he is misinterpreting what Epicurus actually said here. If the reference to the crowd is actually derived from what Epicurus said about justice existing only by convention based on mutual advantage, then Cicero has grossly misunderstood that idea.
That is a great story! Thank you, and welcome!
In the same text Cicero gets in another jab at Epicurus;
QuoteI often heard from my elders — who, in turn, said they, when boys, had heard it from old men — that Gaius Fabricius used to marvel at the story told him, while an envoy at the headquarters of King Pyrrhus, by Cineas of Thessaly, that there was a man at Athens who professed himself "wise" and used to say that everything we do should be judged by the standard of pleasure. Now when Manius Curius and Tiberius Coruncanius learned of this from Fabricius they expressed the wish that the Samnites and Pyrrhus himself would become converts to it, because, when given up to pleasure, they would be much easier to overcome. Manius Curius had lived on intimate terms with Publius Decius who, in his fourth consulship, and five years before Curius held that office, had offered up his life for his country's safety; Fabricius and Coruncanius also knew him, and they all were firmly persuaded, both by their own experience and especially by the heroic deed of Decius, that assuredly there are ends, inherently pure and noble, which are sought for their own sake, and which will be pursued by all good men who look on self-gratification with loathing and contempt.
Why then, do I dwell at such length on pleasure? Because the fact that old age feels little longing for sensual pleasures not only is no cause for reproach, but rather is ground for the highest praise.
As promised, I have tracked down the quote that I attributed to Cicero around the 46:30 mark. It comes from his De Senectute, On Old Age, in a work that Cicero sent to Atticus. The main speaker of the work is Cato.
QuoteFor these reasons, Scipio, my old age sits light upon me (for you said that this has been a cause of wonder to you and Laelius), and not only is not burdensome, but is even happy. And if I err in my belief that the souls of men are immortal, I gladly err, nor do I wish this error which gives me pleasure to be wrested from me while I live. But if when dead I am going to be without sensation (as some petty philosophers think), then I have no fear that these seers, when they are dead, will have the laugh on me!
Notice the snideness of that last remark. One of the pastimes of a certain kind of religious person is to mock the people who disagree with them with false certainty about that alleged afterlife. "Christopher Hitchens knows the truth now, and he's burning in hell!" In Cicero's hands it takes a slightly different form, prefiguring Pascal's Wager; "If Epicurus turns out to be right, he can have a good laugh at me." Obviously he cannot have that laugh, which is the whole point.
In the third century Tertullian, foreseeing the death of antiquity and the beginning of the long darkness, particularly relished the presumptive possession of this non-knowledge:
QuoteWhat a panorama of spectacle on that day! Which sight shall excite my wonder? Which, my laughter? Where shall I rejoice, where exult--as I see so many and so mighty kings, whose ascent to heaven used to be made known by public announcement, now along with Jupiter himself, along with the very witnesses of their ascent, groaning in the depths of darkness? Governors of provinces, too, who persecuted the name of the Lord, melting in flames fiercer than those they themselves kindled in their rage against the Christians braving them with contempt?
Whom else shall I behold? Those wise philosophers blushing before their followers as they burn together, the followers whom they taught that the world is no concern of God's, whom they assured that either they had no souls at all or that what souls they had would never return to their former bodies? The poets also, trembling, not before the judgment seat of Rhadamanthus or of Minos, but of Christ whom they did not expect to meet.
Then will the tragic actors be worth hearing, more vocal in their own catastrophe; then the comic actors will be worth watching, more lither of limb in the fire; then the charioteer will be worth seeing, red all over on his fiery wheel; then the athletes will be worth observing, not in their gymnasiums, but thrown about by fire--unless I might not wish to look at them even then but would prefer to turn an insatiable gaze on those who vented their rage on the Lord.
"This is He," I will say, "the son of the carpenter and the harlot, the sabbath-breaker, the Samaritan who had a devil. This is He whom you purchased from Judas, this is He who was struck with reed and fist, defiled with spittle, given gall and vinegar to drink. This is He whom the disciples secretly stole away to spread the story of His resurrection, or whom the gardener removed lest his lettuces be trampled by the throng of curious idlers."
What praetor or consul or quaestor or priest with all his munificence will ever bestow on you the favor of beholding and exulting in such sights? Yet, such scenes as these are in a measure already ours by faith in the vision of the spirit. But what are those things which "eye has not seen nor ear heard and which have not entered into the heart of man"? Things of greater delight, I believe, than circus, both kinds of theater, and any stadium.
You know, the internet has given rise to an interesting and perhaps novel phenomenon. Christians and Muslims, each denying any contradictions in their own holy books, can now be found hunting up and parading the contradictions in the holy books of their adversaries.
You know that scene from 1984 during Oceania's Hate Week, when it is announced that the state is at war with Eastasia and allied to Eurasia? The crowed has just witnessed Eurasian prisoners of war being executed. Well it's like that. The only way to deny the contradictions that exist in both holy books is to willingly blind yourself to them. And, of course, to get angry when the contradictions are pointed out.
That's a good source Cassius, thank you! I've seen a few articles on the 'death of New Atheism' recently, but in reality this so-callled New Atheism is not new at all; it is identical to the old atheism, and is sure to co-exist with religion until the extinction of the species.
My father’s rejection of all that is called religious belief, was not, as many might suppose, primarily a matter of logic and evidence: the grounds of it were moral, still more than intellectual. He found it impossible to believe that a world so full of evil was the work of an Author combining infinite power with perfect goodness and righteousness. His intellect spurned the subtleties by which men attempt to blind themselves to this open contradiction. … His aversion to religion, in the sense usually attached to the term, was of the same kind with that of Lucretius: he regarded it with the feelings due not to a mere mental delusion, but to a great moral evil. He looked upon it as the greatest enemy of morality: first, by setting up factitious excellencies — belief in creeds, devotional feelings, and ceremonies, not connected with the good of human kind — and causing these to be accepted as substitutes for genuine virtue: but above all, by radically vitiating the standard of morals; making it consist in doing the will of a being, on whom it lavishes indeed all the phrases of adulation, but whom in sober truth it depicts as eminently hateful.
-John Stuart Mill, Autobiography
The Euthyphro Dilemma also bears heavily on Cicero's claims about the source of morality.
Three classes of "meritorious qualities";
And a fourth quality;
Bear in mind Cicero's project here; as he stated at the top of page 49, it is his opinion "that if I shew there is something moral, which is essentially desirable by reason of its inherent qualities and for its own sake, all the doctrines of your school are overthrown."
In his Republic, Cicero gives us a fuller description of this Natural Law, and the foundation of his morality;
QuoteDisplay MoreThere is in fact a true law - namely, right reason - which is in accordance with nature,
applies to all men, and is unchangeable and eternal. By its commands this law summons men
to the performance of their duties; by its prohibitions it restrains them from doing wrong. Its
commands and prohibitions always influence good men, but are without effect upon the bad. To
invalidate this law by human legislation is never morally right, nor is it permissible ever to
restrict its operation , and to annul it wholly is impossible. Neither the senate nor the people
can absolve us from our obligation to obey this law, and it requires no Sextus Aelius to expound
and interpret it. It will not lay down one rule at Rome and another at Athens, nor will it be
one rule to-day and another tomorrow. But there will be one law, eternal and
unchangeable, binding at all times upon all peoples; and there will be, as it were, one common
master and ruler of men, namely God, who is the author of this law, it interpreter, and its
sponsor. The man who will not obey it will abandon his better self, and, in denying the true
nature of a man, will thereby suffer the severest of penalties, though he has escaped all the other
consequences which men call punishments. (Cicero, THE REPUBLIC, II, 22.)
Lucretius' extensive treatment of early human history paints a very different picture; (Ian Johnston translation)
QuoteDisplay MoreThen, once they had acquired huts, hides, and fire
and woman linked up with man and moved
into one [home and] learned [marriage customs],
and they saw themselves creating offspring,
at that point the human race first began
to soften. Fire meant their freezing limbs
could no longer tolerate the cold so well
under heaven’s roof, sexual habits made
their strength diminish, and children soon
shattered the stern character of parents
with their endearing charms. And then neighbours
began to join in mutual agreements,
seeking not to harm each other or be harmed,
and they entrusted children and the race
of women to the care of all, pointing out
with vocal sounds, gestures, and broken words
that it was right for all to have pity
on the weak. And though they could not create
universal harmony, nonetheless,
large numbers would faithfully keep their word,
or else the human race would, even then,
have been entirely killed off, and breeding
could not have kept up their generations
to this very day.
And finally, Lucretius' response to the claim that the gods will punish those who violate their law;
QuoteDisplay MoreO unhappy race of men,
when they ascribed such actions to the gods
and added to them bitter rage! What sorrows
they then made for themselves, what wounds for us,
what weeping for our children yet to come!
There is no piety in being seen
time and again turning towards a stone
with one’s head covered and approaching close
to every altar, and hurling oneself
prostrate on the ground, stretching out one’s palms
before gods’ shrines, or spreading lots of blood
from four-footed beasts on altars, or piling
sacred pledges onto sacred pledges,
but rather in being able to perceive
all things with one’s mind at peace.
Given that work or toil is deeply connected to the meaning of this word, I proposed this morning that the Latin word Otium might make for an interesting comparison;
It looks like the Greek word for leisure is σχόλη.
QuoteAt some point you have to make a practical decision to "live," and that point is where we "trust the senses," which amounts to "trusting what Nature gave to us" for survival.
Yes, but this to me is tantamount to living with rational rather than absolute oughts.
My answer is very similar to yours; if I started every morning waking up to Hume's Guillotine, the problem of determinism, the claims made of simulation or the brain-in-a-vat thought experiment, Pascal's Wager, Last Tuesday-ism, Calvinist double-predestination, or idealism of any other stripe, I'd never get out of bed.
So, like Thomas Jefferson, I shove all that crap in a corner and
"recur ultimately to my habitual anodyne, "I feel: therefore I exist." I feel bodies which are not myself: there are other existencies then. I call them "matter". I feel them changing place. This gives me "motion". Where there is an absence of matter, I call it "void", or "nothing", or "immaterial space". On the basis of sensation, of matter and motion, we may erect the fabric of all the certainties we can have or need."
And joining the issue of Hume's "is - ought" question to this distinction, it seems to be that we have Epicurus saying that Nature has given us one faculty (feeling / pathe) by which to determine what to choose and what to avoid, and there is no question but that what "is" given (feeling /pathe) clearly "ought" to be followed.
And the question is not "whether" to follow it, but "how" to follow it successfully.
It sounds to me like Epicurus would not be very impressed with Hume's supposed problem, or at the very least he would say it has a very direct answer. The issue is not whether to comply with our natural faculties, but how to assess theories that there are considerations that trump our natural faculties (thereby elevating "Nature" over "logic" and "supernatural religion")
Other views on that?
"we have Epicurus saying that Nature has given us one faculty (feeling / pathe) by which to determine what to choose and what to avoid,"
But this is Epicurus' implicit ought, not a description of how things are.
What Hume is actually asking is how do get from something like this;
"Some things cause pain."
To this;
"We ought to avoid things that cause pain."
Why should we avoid things that cause pain? You might say, because Nature has given us pain a guide. Okay, why should we follow Nature? Because that is the surest road to the life of happiness. Okay, why should we pursue happiness? Because the happy life is the best of all possible lives. Okay, why do we want to live the best life? Because it's the most pleasant life. Why do we want the most pleasant life? Because it's the best life. Why--
--because I said so!
The problem is unsolvable in Hume's terms, not just for Epicurus but for everyone. There's nothing wrong with that--I actually think we're better off without absolute oughts, which is the same thing as saying that we're better off without absolute morality. If God commands you to sacrifice your firstborn, even allowing a God there is no absolute morality to say that you should follow his whims.
This is why Euthyphro is my favorite Socratic dialogue. Even assuming the existence of a God, we are still left with only rational oughts. If I was Epicurus' lawyer I would tell him to take that deal. Take the deal that leaves you and everyone else, even God himself if he was real, on the same footing. If I want to live a blessed life, then I should live a life of pleasure, and for all the reasons Epicurus states. But I accept this knowing that it was my choice--and that if even the gods were real, they would choose it for themselves.
"What would the "two natures" be?"
You know, Lucretius uses almost that exact phrase;
Sed neque Centauri fuerunt nec tempore in ullo
esse queunt duplici natura et corpore bino
ex alienigenis membris compacta, potestas
hinc illinc partis ut sat par esse potissit.
id licet hinc quamvis hebeti cognoscere corde.
But Centaurs ne'er have been, nor can there be
Creatures of twofold stock and double frame,
Compact of members alien in kind,
Yet formed with equal function, equal force
In every bodily part- a fact thou mayst,
However dull thy wits, well learn from this:
There are interesting parallels here; in the above passage from book 5 Lucretius is concerned with the question of tracing the living thing back to its proper seed. In a separate passage in book 4, the poet uses the Centaur to make a different point;
nam certe ex vivo Centauri non fit imago,
nulla fuit quoniam talis natura animata;
verum ubi equi atque hominis casu convenit imago,
haerescit facile extemplo, quod diximus ante,
propter subtilem naturam et tenvia texta.
cetera de genere hoc eadem ratione creantur.
quae cum mobiliter summa levitate feruntur,
ut prius ostendi, facile uno commovet ictu
quae libet una animum nobis subtilis imago;
tenvis enim mens est et mire mobilis ipsa.
For soothly from no living Centaur is
That phantom gendered, since no breed of beast
Like him was ever; but, when images
Of horse and man by chance have come together,
They easily cohere, as aforesaid,
At once, through subtle nature and fabric thin.
In the same fashion others of this ilk
Created are. And when they're quickly borne
In their exceeding lightness, easily
(As earlier I showed) one subtle image,
Compounded, moves by its one blow the mind,
Itself so subtle and so strangely quick.
In the first passage, Centaurs are declared not to exist because no such disparate seeds as those which produce men and horses could conceivably commingle in the way necessary to produce a man-horse. In the second passage he is giving an explanation of how the legend came to be in the first place; it was not seeds of men and horses that mingled and produced the centaur, but images of men and horses that mingled and produced the illusion of the existence of the centaur. These, the same images which we depend upon for knowledge of the gods?
Edit; I see Bryan and I crossposted with reference to the two passages on centaurs.
That reminds me, Don, I found a good video (with spoken Greek) on the Anabasis by Xenophon which we were discussing the other evening;