decorum—­inclined, perhaps, not only to piety and self-abnegation, but also to be somewhat dour and uncompromising—­were naturally attracted to Stoicism.  Those of the complementary character preferred the doctrines of Epicurus.  The Stoics were the Pharisees, the Epicureans the Sadducees, of pagan philosophy.  As the Pharisees were the most Hebraic of the Hebrews, so it was Stoicism that came to be the characteristic Roman creed.  The ordinary Roman had been brought up in the tradition of obeying the law of the state and the claims of duty; he had high notions of personal dignity and a leaning to the heroic virtues.  Give him a strong, consistent, and elevating religion and he would be normally a pious man.  Stoicism supplied him with a standard which was in keeping with such tendencies.  About Epicureanism there was nothing heroic or elevating.

Put briefly, and therefore crudely, the Epicurean doctrine was that happiness is the end of life.  What men seek, and have a right to seek, is the most pleasant existence.  Our conduct should secure for us as much real pleasure as possible.  Now at first sight this looks like what it was opprobriously called by its enemies, “the philosophy of the pig-sty.”  It by no means meant this to its founder.  For what is “pleasure”?  Not by any means necessarily the gratification of the moment, physical or otherwise.  A present pleasure may mean future pain, either of body or of mind.  Wrong actions and bestial enjoyments bring their own penalty.  You must choose wisely, and so direct your life that you suffer least and enjoy most consistently.  Temperance and wisdom are therefore virtues necessary to a true Epicurean.  You desire health; therefore you will live, as Epicurus lived, on simple and wholesome food.  You desire tranquillity or peace of mind; therefore you will abstain from all perverse acts and gratifications, desires and emotions, which disturb that peace.  In short the thing to be sought is nothing else but this grateful composure of mind—­a thing which you cannot have if you are always wanting this or that and either abusing or misusing your bodily or mental functions, or needlessly mortifying yourself.  To the plain man this apparently meant “Take life easily and keep free of worry.”  Naturally the plain man’s ideas of taking life easily became those of taking pleasures as they come, indolently accepting the agreeables of life and feeling no call to make much of its duties.  It is all very well for a high-minded philosopher to avoid a pleasure in order to avoid its pain, and to realize that a pleasure of the mind is worth more than a pleasure of the body, but one cannot expect the ordinary pupil—­the homme moyen sensuel—­to comprehend this attitude with heartiness sufficient to put it into practice.  It followed therefore that the Epicurean tended, not only to become lazy, but to become vicious, or to make light of vices.  This was not indeed true Epicureanism, and Epicurus is not