Atoms, Void and a World Nobody Steers
What must the world be made of, if things can both endure and change? The poem's answer leaves no room for a god at the controls.
Everything that exists, on the doctrine Lucretius takes whole from Epicurus, is tiny bodies moving through empty space, combining and coming apart with no god directing them. He defends it against rivals he names, the single fire of Heraclitus and the four elements of Empedocles, on the ground that only particles which cannot be divided explain why things last at all and yet keep changing. What follows is that every birth and every ending in nature is a rearrangement of the same bodies, and none of it is anybody's plan.
- atomism
- atoms
- void
- matter
- motion
- causation
- generation
- change
- cosmology
Enter a dialogue
- Particles colliding with no one directing them sounds less like an explanation than a refusal to explain — why should a reader accept it?
- Nobody has ever seen a body too small to divide, so what argument rather than sight persuades you such bodies exist?
- Dust specks dance in a sunbeam, driven, you say, by blows from bodies too small to see. Why does that dance persuade you atoms exist?
- If atoms felt, each would have to laugh and weep like us, and so on down without end. How can feeling arise from parts that have none?
- A runner hurls a spear at the edge of the universe. Whether it flies on or is stopped, something lies beyond. Why must the universe be endless?