CHAPTER IX.

THE THREE BRANCHES OF SOCRATIC THOUGHT.

The Megarics-The Cyrenaics-The Cynics.

WHEN a great light suddenly ceases, all at first seems utter darkness. It is only when the dazzled eyes become accustomed to its absence that they begin to be aware of lesser luminaries, whose glimmerings were overpowered by the powerful glare.

Lovers of philosophy in Greece doubtless felt, when they knew that Socrates was dead, that the science must be dead too; and the spirits of his very disciples must have drooped at first, feeling that this was the end. Nothing more could be done.

But there were too many strong minds and sound brains among the pupils and followers of Socrates for "Finis" to be written below the story of philosophy at this point. After the first shock of the philosopher's execution was being gradually recovered from, Plato, Euclid of Megara, Aristippus of Cyrene, and others, began, as it were, to realise that "he is not dead, but sleepeth." The mortal frame of Socrates might decay and crumble, but his name and his words, never. While Plato and

Xenophon set to work to collect and record each impression, each trace he had left in the memories of his hearers, others who were no less devoted to him carried on the work to which he had immolated his life and his powers. That while so doing their own minds should insensibly mould the Socratic method into other forms,

was the fault of human nature in general, rather than theirs in particular.

Of the three branches into which Socratic thought seemed divided after its progenitor's death, the branch school called "the Megarian," from Megaris, the adjoining province, where Euclid its founder was born-who must not be confounded with the great mathematician of the same name should perhaps be glanced at first.

We have seen Euclid visiting Socrates in disguise by night. When or how their latest interviews were held there is no means of ascertaining. We only hear that when Plato and the other disciples, finding that Athens showed them at best but a cool tolerance after the master's death, retired to the city of Megara, he received them with warmth, and made them as much at home as in his power lay.

At that time Euclid was about forty years of age. Some philosophical writers consider that had he lived thirty years earlier he would have been either an Eleatic or a Sophist. As it was, he adopted the Eleatic doctrine so far as to maintain that there was one unalterable Being, not merely the One,-Nous or Intelligence,—but the Good; and that this One had many aspects with corresponding names; but although it was sometimes called Wisdom, sometimes God, or Intelligence, or Reason, it was all these things combined, the combination being only and entirely One.

This One is the only Reality; all material, and especially mundane life, being merely borrowed and transitory appearances of existence. Thus the essence we call the soul of man is but a ray from the one Good, existing in and by means of that one Good.

Holding human nature to be fundamentally a ray of Divine virtue, Euclid's ethical doctrine or system of morals was, like that of Socrates, a lofty one. His six dialogues, which some recorders believe to have been written and lost, were possibly on the subject of morality.

He and his followers after him laid particular stress upon their dialectics. Using Socrates' interrogation, or, as it is called, "his cross-examining elenchus" (sophism), they did not reason by analogy, a method they considered unsound; but they pushed their cross-examinations to extremes, that the question in discussion was at last sifted to such an extent, there was nothing left of it. This verbal battledore and shuttlecock led some of the lesser Megarics into such absurdities, that they were sometimes contemptuously spoken of as "the wranglers."

One of Euclid's chief pupils, and one who may be justly termed his successor, was Eubulides, who afterwards did honourable battle against the mighty Aristotle, and invented the Sorites, a formula in logic. This Eubulides is credited with the higher mental education of the great orator, Demosthenes, and some say Eubulides' suggestions were the means of curing him of the impediment in his speech.

Other pupils who distinguished themselves were Diodorus Chronus, who endeavoured to prove that there is no such thing as that which we term movement or motion; Philo; and, last but most important of all, Stilpo.

Most important, because the fascinating and eloquent lectures he publicly delivered took such hold upon Zenothe founder of the perhaps most universally known philosophical school, the Stoics-that Stilpo may be said to have laid, with the aid of the Cynics, the foundation of the system.

Stilpo had led a wild youth, and disgust paved the way for such a revulsion of feeling, that in him the strictness of the Megarians became sternness. Ptolemy the First, king of Egypt-who besides being a successful warrior was a man of letters, who founded the library which afterwards ranked as the greatest in the world, and who established a museum in his capital for those employed in philosophical research-had a high opinion of Stilpo; but whether Stilpo visited him or no is uncertain.

Stilpo taught in Megara, and was so widely known and respected, that when Demetrius sacked the city, he ordered his soldiers to spare the residence of the philosopher.

At this time the Cyrenaic school, founded by Aristippus, the pupil of Socrates, was being classified and formed into a system by his daughter, Arete, and her son, also named Aristippus.

The first Aristippus was one of those beings of whom it may be said that they missed greatness by an infinitesimal point. He was one fraction short of his aim. This was because of his peculiar organisation. With a high development of brain and with lofty aims and conceptions, he had an active physique, which was constantly making demands for gratification. To this constitutiona strong brain combined with an active body—we owe the school of philosophy termed Epicureanism, after its consolidator, Epicurus. We use the term "consolidator" advisedly; for the student of philosophical history who traces each system to its source will unhesitatingly fix upon Aristippus as the actual founder of Epicureanism.

Just as a river is called by one name from its source to a certain point, where, being joined by a tributary, it is afterwards called by another, the Cyrenaic school was that which was afterwards called the Epicurean,-in its earliest stage.

With all his natural passion for seeking causes, with his vivid powers of perception and comprehension, Aristippus was an adorer of the Moment. The actual present possessed him. He was one of those who had felt to its extremest limit that which we call enjoyment. He could belong to the passing hour so entirely, that past and future became myths-he forgot or ceased to believe in them. Such a constitution is happily a rarity, for it is one not only dangerous to itself, but to its surroundings; dangerous, because it mistakes falsity for truth-it realises this life as an actual, complete state,—whereas it is merely a passing phase, one link of the eternal chain,

Aristippus was born in Cyrene, the chief town of the beautiful province of Libya. The enthusiastic demands of his sensuous nature were gratified not only by his natural surroundings, but by his rich father, Aritadas, who was so unable to say nay to any request made by his son, that when Aristippus heard of Socrates, and immediately felt a desire to see and hear him, his father sent him to Athens. Socrates liked the young fellow, was kind to him, and acknowledged him as his pupil; but the ways of Aristippus were scarcely the ways of Socrates, and the rumours of his loose conduct, which had been repeated to the master by jealous fellow-learners, were soon verified by Aristippus himself. Socrates did what he could to influence him and draw him from a mode of life which could but bring discredit upon them all, but his efforts met with but small success. Not only did Aristippus continue his life of indiscriminate pleasure, but he showed a leaning towards the Sophists, whose agreeable and ornate lectures left him with pleasanter sensations than the searching and oftentimes sarcastic conversations of Socrates.

It soon occurred to him that it would be a fine thing to open a school and be the founder of a philosophical system. To open a school was no sooner said than done, but to found a philosophy was scarcely so easy. Like a butterfly, Aristippus had sipped the sweets of many schools, and he would have made honey out of a combination of them all, had their opposite doctrines admitted of such a mixture.

As it was, his natural capacity gained him pupils, from whom he did not disdain-any more than did his friends the Sophists to accept fees. Among his pupils was his gifted daughter Arete, who being of a less sensual disposition than her father, leant towards the sterner tenets of the school, which she in turn imparted to her son, Aristippus the Second.

The Cyrenaic doctrine is an attractive one to humanity in general, and may be summed up thus :