Book 2, Chapter 22

Friendship[410]

8 min

What a man applies himself to earnestly, that he naturally loves. Do men then apply themselves earnestly to the things which are bad? By no means. Well, do they apply themselves to things which in no way concern themselves? not to these either. It remains then that they employ themselves earnestly only about things which are good; and if they are earnestly employed about things, they love such things also. Whoever then understands what is good, can also know how to love: but he who cannot distinguish good from bad, and things which are neither good nor bad from both, how can he possess the power of loving? To love then is only in the power of the wise.

A person naturally loves whatever they devote themselves to. Do people devote themselves to bad things? Not at all. Do they devote themselves to things that do not concern them in any way? Not to those either. So people devote themselves only to good things. And if they devote themselves to these things, they also love them. Anyone who understands what is good can also know how to love. But what about someone who cannot distinguish good from bad, or distinguish either from things that are neither? How can such a person have the power to love? So only the wise have the power to love.

'In this dissertation is expounded the Stoic principle that friendship is only possible between the good.' Schweig. He also says that Epictetus gave another discourse on this subject. In it, Epictetus expressed some of the opinions of Musonius Rufus (i. 1. note 12). Schweig. draws this conclusion from certain words of Stobaeus. He supposes that the discourse was in one of the last four books of Epictetus' discourses by Arrian. These books have been lost. Cicero (de Amicit. c. 5) says 'nisi in bonis amicitiam esse non posse,' and c. 18.

How is this? a man may say; I am foolish, and yet I love my child.—I am surprised indeed that you have begun by making the admission that you are foolish. For what are you deficient in? Can you not make use of your senses? do you not distinguish appearances? do you not use food which is suitable for your body, and clothing and habitation? Why then do you admit that you are foolish? It is in truth because you are often disturbed by appearances and perplexed, and their power of persuasion often conquers you; and sometimes you think these things to be good, and then the same things to be bad, and lastly neither good nor bad; and in short you grieve, fear, envy, are disturbed, you are changed. This is the reason why you confess that you are foolish. And are you not changeable in love? But wealth, and pleasure and in a word things themselves, do you sometimes think them to be good, and sometimes bad? and do you not think the same men at one time to be good, at another time bad? and have you not at one time a friendly feeling towards them, and at another time the feeling of an enemy? and do you not at one time praise them, and at another time blame them? Yes; I have these feelings also. Well then, do you think that he who has been deceived about a man is his friend? Certainly not. And he who has selected a man as his friend and is of a changeable disposition, has he good will towards him? He has not. And he who now abuses a man, and afterwards admires him? This man also has no good will to the other. Well then, did you never see little dogs caressing and playing with one another, so that you might say, there is nothing more friendly? but that you may know what friendship is, throw a bit of flesh among them, and you will learn. Throw between yourself and your son a little estate, and you will know how soon he will wish to bury you and how soon you wish your son to die. Then you will change your tone and say, what a son I have brought up! He has long been wishing to bury me. Throw a smart girl between you; and do you the old man love her, and the young one will love her too. If a little fame intervene or dangers, it will be just the same. You will utter the words of the father of Admetus!

How can this be, someone may ask? I am foolish, and yet I love my child. I am surprised that you begin by admitting you are foolish. What do you lack? Can you not use your senses? Can you not distinguish appearances? Do you not use food suitable for your body, and suitable clothing and shelter? Why, then, do you admit you are foolish? In truth, it is because appearances often disturb and confuse you, and their persuasive power often overcomes you. Sometimes you think these things are good, then bad, and finally neither good nor bad. In short, you grieve, fear, envy, and are troubled. You change. That is why you admit you are foolish. And are you not also changeable in your love? Do you not sometimes think wealth, pleasure, and things in general are good, and sometimes think them bad? Do you not think the same people good at one time and bad at another? Do you not feel friendly toward them at one time and hostile at another? Do you not praise them at one time and blame them at another? Yes, I have these feelings too. Well then, do you think someone who has been deceived about a person is that person's friend? Certainly not. And does someone who has chosen a friend, but is changeable, wish that friend well? He does not. And what about someone who now insults a person and later admires him? He does not wish the other person well either. Have you never seen little dogs nuzzling and playing with one another? You might say nothing could be friendlier. But throw a piece of meat among them, and you will learn what friendship is. Put a small estate between yourself and your son. You will soon see how quickly he wishes to bury you, and how quickly you wish him dead. Then you will change your tone and say, What a son I have raised! He has long been wishing to bury me. Put a pretty girl between you. If you, the old man, love her, the young man will love her too. If a little fame or some danger comes between you, it will be just the same. You will speak the words of the father of Admetus!

Life gives you pleasure: and why not your father?

Life gives you pleasure, so why doesn't your father?

The first verse is from the Alcestis of Euripides, v. 691. The second verse in Epictetus is not in Euripides. Schweighaeuser thinks it was inserted into the text from a trivial scholium.

Do you think that Admetus did not love his own child when he was little? that he was not in agony when the child had a fever? that he did not often say, I wish I had the fever instead of the child? then when the test (the thing) came and was near, see what words they utter. Were not Eteocles and Polynices from the same mother and from the same father? Were they not brought up together, had they not lived together, drunk together, slept together, and often kissed one another? So that, if any man, I think, had seen them, he would have ridiculed the philosophers for the paradoxes which they utter about friendship. But when a quarrel rose between them about the royal power, as between dogs about a bit of meat, see what they say

Do you think Admetus did not love his own child when the child was little? Was he not in agony when the child had a fever? Did he not often say, I wish I had the fever instead of the child? But when the test came, see what they say. Were Eteocles and Polynices not born to the same mother and father? Were they not raised together? Had they not lived together, drunk together, slept together, and often kissed each other? I think anyone who saw them would have laughed at the philosophers for their paradoxes about friendship. But then they quarreled over royal power, like dogs over a piece of meat. See what they say.

_Polynices._Where will you take your station before the towers? _Eteocles._Why do you ask me this? _Pol._I will place myself opposite and try to kill you. _Et._I also wish to do the same.

Polynices. Where will you stand in front of the towers? Eteocles. Why do you ask? Pol. I will stand opposite you and try to kill you. Et. I want to do the same.

From the Phoenissae of Euripides, v. 723, etc.

Such are the wishes that they utter.

Those are the wishes they express.

For universally, be not deceived, every animal is attached to nothing so much as to its own interest. Whatever then appears to it an impediment to this interest, whether this be a brother, or a father, or a child, or beloved, or lover, it hates, spurns, curses: for its nature is to love nothing so much as its own interest; this is father, and brother and kinsman, and country, and God. When then the gods appear to us to be an impediment to this, we abuse them and throw down their statues and burn their temples, as Alexander ordered the temples of Aesculapius to be burned when his dear friend died.

Make no mistake: every animal is more attached to its own interest than to anything else. So it hates, rejects, and curses whatever seems to stand in the way of that interest. It does this whether the obstacle is a brother, father, child, beloved, or lover. For by nature, it loves nothing more than its own interest. Its interest is its father, brother, relative, country, and God. So when the gods seem to stand in the way of our interests, we insult them, tear down their statues, and burn their temples. Alexander did just this when his dear friend died: he ordered the temples of Aesculapius to be burned.

Compare Euripides, Hecuba, v. 846, etc.:

Alexander did this when Hephaestion died. Arrian, Expedition of Alexander, vii. 14.

For this reason if a man put in the same place his interest, sanctity, goodness, and country, and parents, and friends, all these are secured: but if he puts in one place his interest, in another his friends, and his country and his kinsmen and justice itself, all these give way being borne down by the weight of interest. For where the I and the Mine are placed, to that place of necessity the animal inclines: if in the flesh, there is the ruling power: if in the will, it is there and if it is in externals, it is there. If then I am there where my will is, then only shall I be a friend such as I ought to be, and son, and father; for this will be my interest, to maintain the character of fidelity, of modesty, of patience, of abstinence, of active co-operation, of observing my relations (towards all). But if I put myself in one place, and honesty in another, then the doctrine of Epicurus becomes strong, which asserts either that there is no honesty or it is that which opinion holds to be honest (virtuous).

For this reason, if a person places their own interest alongside holiness, goodness, country, parents, and friends, all are secured. But if they place their interest apart from their friends, country, relatives, and justice itself, all these give way. They are crushed by the weight of self-interest. For wherever a creature places the “I” and the “mine,” it must be drawn toward that place. If it places them in the body, the body's interests govern it. If it places them in the will, the will governs it. If it places them in external things, those things govern it. So if I identify myself with my will, only then will I be the friend, son, and father I ought to be. For then it will be in my interest to remain faithful, modest, patient, and self-controlled. It will also be in my interest to cooperate actively and observe my obligations toward everyone. But if I place myself apart from virtue, then the teaching of Epicurus gains force. He claims that either there is no virtue, or virtue is whatever people believe it to be.

Matthew vi. 21, 'for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'

'By "self" here, I mean the proper Good, or, as Solomon puts it, Eccl. xii. 13, "the whole of man." The Stoic shows very well the problems of placing this Good in anything but a right choice (a right disposition and behaviour). But only the doctrine of a future recompense shows why this choice is in each individual's interest in every case. This is true even when the choice means giving up present pleasure and facing present suffering.' Mrs. Carter. Compare Cicero, De Fin. ii. 15. There he speaks of Epicurus and translates the words ἀποφαίνειν ἢ μηδὲν εἶναι τὸ καλὸν ἢ ἄρα τὸ ἔνδοξον as "ut enim consuetudo loquitur, id solum dicitur Honestum quod est populari fama gloriosum (ἔνδοξον)." See Schweig.'s note.

It was through this ignorance that the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians quarrelled, and the Thebans with both; and the great king quarrelled with Hellas, and the Macedonians with both; and the Romans with the Getae. And still earlier the Trojan war happened for these reasons. Alexander was the guest of Menelaus; and if any man had seen their friendly disposition, he would not have believed any one who said that they were not friends. But there was cast between them (as between dogs) a bit of meat, a handsome woman, and about her war arose. And now when you see brothers to be friends appearing to have one mind, do not conclude from this any thing about their friendship, not even if they swear it and say that it is impossible for them to be separated from one another. For the ruling principle of a bad man cannot be trusted, it is insecure, has no certain rule by which it is directed, and is overpowered at different times by different appearances. But examine, not what other men examine, if they are born of the same parents and brought up together, and under the same paedagogue; but examine this only, wherein they place their interest, whether in externals or in the will. If in externals, do not name them friends, no more than name them trustworthy or constant, or brave or free: do not name them even men, if you have any judgment. For that is not a principle of human nature which makes them bite one another, and abuse one another, and occupy deserted places or public places, as if they were mountains, and in the courts of justice display the acts of robbers; nor yet that which makes them intemperate and adulterers and corrupters, nor that which makes them do whatever else men do against one another through this one opinion only, that of placing themselves and their interests in the things which are not within the power of their will. But if you hear that in truth these men think the good to be only there, where will is, and where there is a right use of appearances, no longer trouble yourself whether they are father or son, or brothers, or have associated a long time and are companions, but when you have ascertained this only, confidently declare that they are friends, as you declare that they are faithful, that they are just. For where else is friendship than where there is fidelity, and modesty, where there is a communion of honest things and of nothing else?

It was through this ignorance that the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians quarreled, and the Thebans quarreled with both. The great king quarreled with Hellas, the Macedonians with both, and the Romans with the Getae. Still earlier, the Trojan war happened for the same reasons. Alexander was Menelaus’s guest. Anyone who saw how friendly they were would not have believed anyone who said they were not friends. But a piece of meat was thrown between them, as between dogs: a beautiful woman. War broke out over her. Now, when you see brothers who appear to be friends and of one mind, do not draw any conclusions about their friendship. Not even if they swear they are friends and say nothing could separate them. A bad man’s guiding principle cannot be trusted. It is unstable, follows no certain rule, and is overcome at different times by different appearances. Do not examine what other people do: whether the brothers have the same parents, grew up together, and had the same tutor. Examine only this: whether they place their interests in external things or in the will. If they place their interests in external things, do not call them friends. You might as well call them trustworthy, constant, brave, or free. If you have any judgment, do not even call them men. No principle of human nature makes them bite and abuse one another. Nor does it make them occupy deserted or public places as if they were mountains, and act like robbers in the courts of justice. Nor does it make them self-indulgent, adulterers, and corrupters. Nor does it make them do anything else that men do against one another. They do all these things because of one belief alone: that they and their interests lie in things beyond the power of their will. But suppose you hear that these men truly believe that good exists only where there is will and a right use of appearances. Then do not trouble yourself about whether they are father and son, brothers, or companions who have spent a long time together. Once you have established this one thing, confidently declare that they are friends, just as you declare them faithful and just. For where else can friendship exist except where there is faithfulness and modesty, and where people share in honorable things and nothing else?

The quarrels between the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians appear chiefly in the history of the Peloponnesian war. (Thucydides, i. 1). The quarrel of the great king, the king of Persia, is the subject of the history of Herodotus (i. 1). The great quarrel between the Macedonians and the Persians is the subject of Arrian's expedition of Alexander. The Romans were at war with the Getae or Daci in the time of Trajan. We may assume that Epictetus was still living then.

Aristotle, Eth. viii. c. 8. Mrs. Carter.

Schweig. thinks the meaning is clear: 'as wild beasts in the mountains lie in wait for men, so men lie in wait for men, not only in deserted places, but even in the forum.'

ὅπου δόσις τοῦ καλοῦ. Lord Shaftesbury suggested δόσις καὶ λῆψις τοῦ καλοῦ. Upton approved this suggestion and referred to ii. 9. 12, αἱ ἀκατάλληλοι λήψεις καὶ δόσεις. Schweighaeuser suggests διαδόσις, which I have followed in the translation. Schweig. refers to i. 12. 6, i. 14. 9. The MSS. provide no help.

But you may say, such a one treated me with regard so long; and did he not love me? How do you know, slave, if he did not regard you in the same way as he wipes his shoes with a sponge, or as he takes care of his beast? How do you know, when you have ceased to be useful as a vessel, he will not throw you away like a broken platter? But this woman is my wife, and we have lived together so long. And how long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus, and was the mother of children and of many? But a necklace came between them: and what is a necklace? It is the opinion about such things. That was the bestial principle, that was the thing which broke asunder the friendship between husband and wife, that which did not allow the woman to be a wife nor the mother to be a mother. And let every man among you who has seriously resolved either to be a friend himself or to have another for his friend, cut out these opinions, hate them, drive them from his soul. And thus first of all he will not reproach himself, he will not be at variance with himself, he will not change his mind, he will not torture himself. In the next place, to another also, who is like himself, he will be altogether and completely a friend. But he will bear with the man who is unlike himself, he will be kind to him, gentle, ready to pardon on account of his ignorance, on account of his being mistaken in things of the greatest importance; but he will be harsh to no man, being well convinced of Plato's doctrine that every mind is deprived of truth unwillingly. If you cannot do this, yet you can do in all other respects as friends do, drink together, and lodge together, and sail together, and you may be born of the same parents; for snakes also are: but neither will they be friends nor you, so long as you retain these bestial and cursed opinions.

But you may say, “This person treated me with respect for so long. Didn’t he love me?” How do you know, slave? Perhaps he valued you as he values a sponge for wiping his shoes, or as he cares for his animal. How do you know he won’t throw you away like a broken dish when you are no longer useful to him? “But this woman is my wife, and we have lived together so long.” And how long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus and bear him many children? But a necklace came between them. And what is a necklace? What matters is the opinion people have about such things. That opinion was the animal instinct that broke the friendship between husband and wife. It was what kept the woman from being a wife and the mother from being a mother. If any of you has seriously resolved to be a friend or to have a friend, cut out these opinions. Hate them and drive them from your soul. In this way, first of all, you will not blame yourself or be at odds with yourself. You will not change your mind or torment yourself. Next, you will be a true and complete friend to someone like yourself. But you will be patient with someone unlike yourself. You will be kind and gentle with him, and ready to forgive his ignorance and his mistakes about the most important things. You will be harsh to no one. For you will be convinced of Plato’s teaching that no mind is deprived of truth willingly. If you cannot do this, you can still do everything else that friends do. You can drink together, stay together, and sail together. You can even be born of the same parents, for snakes are too. But neither snakes nor you will be friends as long as you keep these animal and cursed opinions.

The old story of Eriphyle, who betrayed her husband for a necklace.

See Schweig.'s note.

δεινόν γε θνητοῖς ὡς ἅπαντα συμπίτνει· καὶ τὰς ἀνάγκας ὡς νόμοι διώρισαν, φίλους τιθέντες τούς γε πολεμιωτάτους ἐχθρούς τε τοὺς πρὶν εὐμενεῖς ποιούμενοι.

It is dreadful how everything happens to mortals, and how laws have determined what necessity requires. They make friends of the bitterest enemies and enemies of those who were once friendly.