to blame for it; it simply shows that Epicureanism, whatever its logical or other merits, provided no sufficient stimulus to a right life.  As regards theology the position of the school was that there might very well be such things as higher beings—­there was nothing in physical philosophy to make them any more impossible than a man or a fish—­but that, if they existed, they were not concerned with man’s affairs; his moral conduct, like his sacrifices and prayers, was not matter for their consideration.  No need, therefore, to let superstition worry you, or to trouble about future punishment.  Conduct your life according to the same principles laid down, and let the gods—­if there be any—­look to themselves.  Naturally the result of such a position is that ceasing to regard the gods means ceasing to believe in them, and, as a Roman writer says:  “In theory it leaves us the gods, in practice it abolishes them.”

The other school—­that of the Stoics—­is perhaps less easily comprehended, nor can it be said that its doctrines were always quite so coherent.  Again we may put the position briefly, and therefore, perhaps, only approximately.  The rule of life is to live as “nature” directs.  Nature has its laws, which you cannot disobey with impunity.  The law of nature is the mind of God.  The material universe is the body, God is its soul, and He directs the workings of nature with foreknowledge and perfect wisdom.  If man can only be brought to act in strict accordance with the mind of God—­or law of nature—­he is sure of perfect well-being, because he can do nothing as it should not be done.  If he can only arrive at such perfect operation of his mental processes, he will necessarily be the perfect speaker, the perfect ruler, the perfect craftsman, the perfect performer of every task, including the securing of his own happiness.  Doubtless this is logical enough, but how is one to attain to such right mental operations, and to become what was called a “sage”?  Only by acting always according to reason and not according to passion.  That and that alone is “virtue.”  The divine mind is not swayed by passion—­by hope, fear, exultation, or grief—­but only and always by reason.  Learn therefore to obey reason and reason only.  Do not permit yourself to be drawn from the true path by fear of threats, even of death, nor by grief, even for your dearest friends.  Such feelings warp your reason, distract your judgment, and deflect you from the right course.  When passion—­feeling—­comes in conflict with reason, you must drive feeling away.  Your reason may not always be right; nevertheless it is the best guide you have, and you must cultivate it to act as rightly as possible.  Remember that the power to act in accordance with the divine mind—­the law of nature—­lies in your own will; things external have nothing to do with that straight-forward proceeding—­they cannot help you, and you must not let them hinder you.  The condition of your mind is everything; as long as its operation is right, you are living in the right way.  Your mind may act as rightly in poverty as in riches; you may be equally wise and virtuous whether you have the external advantages or not.  You must therefore learn to ignore these things—­pain, grief, fear, joy, and all the other perturbing influences.  Cultivate, therefore, right reason and the absence of emotions.