in certain moods, condemned the world of appearance and sought escape in mysticism, had
practical plans for turning the governing classes into saints and sages. When political power
passed into the hands of the Macedonians, Greek philosophers, as was natural, turned aside from
politics and devoted themselves more to the problem of individual virtue or salvation. They no
longer asked: how can men create a good State? They asked instead: how can men be virtuous in a
wicked world, or happy in a world of suffering? The change, it is true is only one of degree; such
questions had been asked before, and the later Stoics, for a time, again concerned themselves with
politics --the politics of Rome, not of Greece. But the change was none the less real. Except to a
limited extent during the Roman period in Stoicism, the outlook of those who thought and felt
seriously became increasingly subjective and individualistic, until, at last, Christianity evolved a
gospel of individual salvation which inspired missionary zeal and created the Church. Until that
happened, there was no institution to which the philosopher could give whole-hearted adherence,
and therefore there was no adequate outlet for his legitimate love of power. For this reason, the
philosophers of the Hellenistic period are more limited as human beings than the men who lived
while the City State could still inspire allegiance. They still think, because they cannot help
thinking; but they scarcely hope that their thought will bear fruit in the world of affairs.
Four schools of philosophy were founded about the time of Alexander. The two most famous, the
Stoics and Epicureans, will be the subjects of later chapters; in the present chapter we shall be
concerned with the Cynics and Sceptics.
The first of these schools is derived, through its founder Diogenes, from Antisthenes, a disciple of
Socrates, about twenty years older than Plato. Antisthenes was a remarkable character, in some
ways rather like Tolstoy. Until after the death of Socrates, he lived in the aristocratic circle of his
fellow disciples, and showed no sign of unorthodoxy. But something--whether the defeat of
Athens, or the death of Socrates, or a distaste for philosophic quibbling-- caused him, when no
longer young, to despise the things that he had formerly valued. He would have nothing but
simple goodness. He associated with working men, and dressed as one of them. He took to open-
air preaching, in a style that the uneducated could understand. All refined