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 themselves, and pregnant with perversion and misery as regards the hopes and fears of mankind. Epikurus believed sincerely in the gods; reverenced them as beings at once perfectly happy, immortal, and unchangeable; and took delight in the public religious festivals and ceremonies. But it was inconsistent with these attributes, and repulsive to his feelings of reverence, to conceive them as agents. The idea of agency is derived from human experience: we, as agents, act with a view to supply some want, to fulfil some obligation, to acquire some pleasure, to accomplish some object desired but not yet attained — in short, to fill up one or other of the many gaps in our imperfect happiness: the gods already have all that agents strive to get, and more than agents ever do get; their condition is one not of agency, but of tranquil, self-sustaining, fruition. Accordingly, Epikurus thought (as Aristotle[1] had thought before him) that the perfect, eternal, and imperturbable well-being and felicity of the gods excluded the supposition of their being agents. He looked upon them as types of that unmolested safety and unalloyed satisfaction which was what he understood by pleasure or happiness, as objects of reverential envy, whose sympathy he was likely to obtain by assimilating his own temper and condition to theirs as far as human circumstances allowed.
[1] Aristot. De CÅ“lo, II. xii. p. 292, a. 22-b. 7: ἔοικε γὰρ τῷ μὲν ἄριστα ἔχοντι ὑπάρχειν τὸ εὖ ἄνευ πράξεως, τῷ δ’ ἐγγύτατα διὰ ὀλίγης καὶ μιᾶς, τοῖς δὲ ποῤῥωτάτω διὰ πλειόνων, — τῷ δ’ ὡς ἄριστα ἔχοντι οὐθὲν δεῖ πράξεως· ἔστι γὰρ αὐτὸ τὸ οὗ ἕνεκα, ἡ δὲ πρᾶξις ἀεί ἐστιν ἐν δυσίν, ὅταν καὶ οὗ ἕνεκα ᾖ καὶ τὸ τούτου ἕνεκα. &c. Ibid. iii. p. 286, a. 9: θεοῦ δ’ ἐνέργεια ἀθανασία· τοῦτο δ’ ἐστὶ ζωὴ ἀΐδος, &c.
In the Ethica, Aristotle assigns theorizing contemplation to the gods, as the only process worthy of their exalted dignity and supreme felicity.
These theological views were placed by Epikurus in the foreground of his ethical philosophy, as the only means of dispelling those fears of the gods that the current fables instilled into every one, and that did so much to destroy human comfort and security. He proclaimed that beings in immortal felicity neither suffered vexation in themselves nor caused vexation to others; neither showed anger nor favour to particular persons. The doctrine that they were the working managers in the affairs of the Kosmos, celestial and terrestrial, human and extra-human, he not only repudiated as incompatible with their attributes, but declared to be impious, considering the disorder, sufferings, and violence, everywhere visible. He disallowed all prophecy, divination, and oracular inspiration, by which the public around him believed that the gods were perpetually communicating special revelations to individuals, and for which Sokrates had felt so peculiarly thankful.
It is remarkable that Stoics and Epikureans, in spite of their marked opposition in dogma or theory, agreed so far in practical results, that both declared these two modes of uneasiness (fear of the gods and fear of death) to be the great torments of human existence, and both strove to remove or counterbalance them.
So far the teaching of Epikurus appears confined to the separate happiness of each individual, as dependent upon his own prudence, sobriety, and correct views of Nature. But this is not the whole of the Epikurean Ethics. The system also considered each man as in companionship with others: the precepts were shaped accordingly, first as to Justice, next as to Friendship. In both, these, the foundation whereon Epikurus built was Reciprocity — not pure sacrifice to others, but partnership with others, beneficial to all. He kept the ideas of self and of others inseparably knit together in one complex association: he did not expel or degrade either, in order to give exclusive ascendancy to the other. The dictate of Natural Justice was, that no man should hurt another: each was bound to abstain from doing harm to others; each, on this condition, was entitled to count on security and relief from the fear that others would do harm to him. Such double aspect, or reciprocity, was essential to social companionship: those that could not, or would not, accept this covenant, were unfit for society. If a man does not behave justly towards others, he cannot expect that they will behave justly towards him; to live a life of injustice, and expect that others will not find it out, is idle. The unjust man cannot enjoy a moment of security. Epikurus laid it down explicitly, that just and righteous dealing was the indispensable condition to every one’s comfort, and was the best means of attaining it.
The reciprocity of Justice was valid towards all the world; the reciprocity of Friendship went much farther: it involved indefinite and active beneficence, but could reach only to a select few. Epikurus insisted emphatically on the value of friendship, as a means of happiness to both the persons so united. He declared that a good friend was another self, and that friends ought to be prepared, in case of need, to die for each other. Yet he declined to recommend an established community of goods among the members of his fraternity, as prevailed in the Pythagorean brotherhood: for such an institution (he said) implied mistrust. He recommended efforts to please and to serve, and a forwardness to give, for the purpose of gaining and benefiting a friend, and he even declared that there was more pleasure in conferring favours than in receiving them; but he was no less strenuous in inculcating an intelligent gratitude on the receiver. No one except a wise man (he said) knew how to return a favour properly.[2]
[2] Seneca, Epist. p. 81.
These exhortations to active friendship were not unfruitful. We know, even by the admission of witnesses adverse to the Epikurean doctrines, that the harmony among the members of the sect, with common veneration for the founder, was more marked and more enduring than that exhibited by any of the other philosophical sects. Epikurus himself was a man of amiable personal qualities: his testament, still remaining, shows an affectionate regard both for his surviving friends, and for the permanent attachment of each to the others as well as of all to the school. Diogenes Laertius tells us — nearly 200 years after Christ, and 450 years after the death of Epikurus — that the Epikurean sect still continued its numbers and dignity, having outlasted its contemporaries and rivals. The harmony among the Epikureans may be explained, not merely from the temper of the master, but partly from the doctrines and plan of life that he recommended. Ambition and love of power were discouraged; rivalry among the members for success, either political or rhetorical, was at any rate a rare exception; all were taught to confine themselves to that privacy of life and love of philosophical communion which alike required and nourished the mutual sympathies of the brotherhood. In regard to politics, Epikurus advised quiet submission to established authority, without active meddling beyond what necessity required.
Virtue and happiness, in the theory of Epikurus, were inseparable. A man could not be happy until he had surmounted the fear of death and the fear of gods instilled by the current fables, which disturbed all tranquillity of mind; until he had banished those factitious desires that pushed him into contention for wealth, power, or celebrity; nor unless he behaved with justice to all, and with active devoted friendship towards a few. Such a mental condition, which he thought it was in every man’s power to acquire by appropriate teaching and companionship, constituted virtue; and was the sure as well as the only precursor of genuine happiness. A mind thus undisturbed and purified was sufficient to itself. The mere satisfaction of the wants of life, and the conversation of friends, became then felt pleasures: if more could be had without preponderant mischief, so much the better; but Nature, disburthened of her corruptions and prejudices, required no more to be happy. This at least was as much as the conditions of humanity admitted: a tranquil, undisturbed, innocuous, non-competitive fruition, which approached most nearly to the perfect happiness of the Gods.