The circumstances which have been briefly sketched in the preceding chapter are of the greatest importance in their bearing on the character of the post-Aristotelian philosophy. Greek philosophy, like Greek art, is the offspring of Greek political independence. In the whirl of public life every one is thrown on himself and his own resources. Thereby, and by the emulation begotten of unlimited competition for all the good things of life, the Greek had learned to make full use of his intellect. Consciousness of his dignity—which a Greek associated far more closely than we do with the privilege of citizenship—and independence of the necessity of struggling for daily food, had taught him independence of mind, and enabled him to devote himself to the pursuit of knowledge without any ulterior aim. [2] [(1) Political causes.] With the decline of political independence the mental powers of the nation were broken past remedy. No longer borne up by a powerful esprit de corps, weaned from the habit of working for the common weal, the majority gave themselves up to the petty interests of private life and personal affairs. Even the better disposed were too much occupied in contending against the low tone and corruption of their times, to be able to devote themselves in moments of relaxation to independent speculation. What could be expected in such an age as that which preceded the rise of the Stoic and Epicurean systems, but that philosophy would become practical itself, if indeed it were studied at all? An age like that did not require theoretical knowledge, but it did require moral bracing and strengthening. If these were not to be had from popular religion in its then state, was it matter for wonder that philosophy should be looked to to supply the deficiency, seeing that in all cultivated circles philosophy had already taken the place of religion? If we ask in what form, and in what form only, philosophy could supply the deficiency under the then circumstances, the answer is not far to seek. There was little room for creative effort, plenty for sustained endurance; little for activity without, plenty for activity within; little room for public life, plenty of room for private life. So utterly hopeless had the public state of Greece become, that even the few who made it their business to provide a remedy could only gain for themselves the honour of martyrdom. As matters stood, the only course open for the best-intentioned was to withdraw entirely within themselves, to entrench themselves within the safe barriers of their inner life against outward misfortunes, and to make happiness dependent entirely on their own inward state.