Book 3, Chapter 22
Cynicism
When one of his pupils inquired of Epictetus, and he was a person who appeared to be inclined to Cynism, what kind of person a Cynic ought to be and what was the notion (πρόληψις) of the thing, we will inquire, said Epictetus, at leisure: but I have so much to say to you that he who without God attempts so great a matter, is hateful to God, and has no other purpose than to act indecently in public. For in any well-managed house no man comes forward, and says to himself, I ought to be manager of the house. If he does so, the master turns round, and seeing him insolently giving orders, drags him forth and flogs him. So it is also in this great city (the world); for here also there is a master of the house who orders every thing. (He says) You are the sun; you can by going round make the year and seasons, and make the fruits grow and nourish them, and stir the winds and make them remit, and warm the bodies of men properly: go, travel round, and so administer things from the greatest to the least. You are a calf; when a lion shall appear, do your proper business (i.e. run away): if you do not, you will suffer. You are a bull: advance and fight, for this is your business, and becomes you, and you can do it. You can lead the army against Ilium; be Agamemnon. You can fight in single combat against Hector: be Achilles. But if Thersites came forward and claimed the command, he would either not have obtained it; or if he did obtain it, he would have disgraced himself before many witnesses.
One of Epictetus’s pupils seemed drawn to Cynicism. He asked Epictetus what kind of person a Cynic should be and what the idea (πρόληψις) meant. “We will examine that at leisure,” Epictetus said. “But I can tell you this: anyone who undertakes so great a task without God is hateful to God. His only purpose is to behave indecently in public. “In a well-run house, no one comes forward and says to himself, ‘I ought to manage this house.’ If he does, the master turns and sees him giving orders so insolently. The master then drags him out and flogs him. “The same is true in this great city, the world. Here too there is a master of the house who directs everything. He says: ‘You are the sun. By traveling around, you can make the year and the seasons. You can make fruit grow and nourish it. You can stir the winds and calm them, and give people the warmth they need. Go, travel around, and manage everything, from the greatest to the least. “‘You are a calf. When a lion appears, do what you should (i.e. run away). If you do not, you will suffer. You are a bull. Step forward and fight. That is your task, it suits you, and you can do it. You can lead the army against Ilium. Be Agamemnon. You can fight Hector in single combat. Be Achilles.’ “But if Thersites came forward and claimed command, he either would not get it or, if he did, he would disgrace himself before many witnesses.”
See the description of Thersites in the Iliad, ii. 212.
Do you also think about the matter carefully: it is not what it seems to you. (You say) I wear a cloak now and I shall wear it then: I sleep hard now, and I shall sleep hard then: I will take in addition a little bag now and a staff, and I will go about and begin to beg and to abuse those whom I meet; and if I see any man plucking the hair out of his body, I will rebuke him, or if he has dressed his hair, or if he walks about in purple—If you imagine the thing to be such as this, keep far away from it: do not approach it: it is not at all for you. But if you imagine it to be what it is, and do not think yourself to be unfit for it, consider what a great thing you undertake.
Think carefully about this too. It is not what you imagine. You say: I wear a cloak now, and I will wear one then. I sleep on a hard bed now, and I will sleep on one then. I will also take a small bag and a staff. Then I will go around begging and insulting the people I meet. If I see a man plucking hair from his body, I will rebuke him. I will do the same if he has styled his hair or walks around dressed in purple. If you imagine that this is all it involves, stay far away from it. Do not go near it. It is not at all for you. But if you understand what it really is and do not think yourself unfit for it, consider how great an undertaking it is.
In the first place in the things which relate to yourself, you must not be in any respect like what you do now: you must not blame God or man: you must take away desire altogether, you must transfer avoidance (ἔκκλισις) only to the things which are within the power of the will: you must not feel anger nor resentment nor envy nor pity; a girl must not appear handsome to you, nor must you love a little reputation, nor be pleased with a boy or a cake. For you ought to know that the rest of men throw walls around them and houses and darkness when they do any such things, and they have many means of concealment. A man shuts the door, he sets somebody before the chamber if a person comes, say that he is out, he is not at leisure. But the Cynic instead of all these things must use modesty as his protection: if he does not, he will be indecent in his nakedness and under the open sky. This is his house, his door: this is the slave before his bedchamber: this is his darkness. For he ought not to wish to hide any thing that he does: and if he does, he is gone, he has lost the character of a Cynic, of a man who lives under the open sky, of a free man: he has begun to fear some external thing, he has begun to have need of concealment, nor can he get concealment when he chooses. For where shall he hide himself and how? And if by chance this public instructor shall be detected, this paedagogue, what kind of things will he be compelled to suffer? when then a man fears these things, is it possible for him to be bold with his whole soul to superintend men? It cannot be it is impossible.
First, in matters concerning yourself, you must change everything about how you live now. You must not blame God or other people. You must give up desire altogether. You must avoid only things that are within the power of your will. You must not feel anger, resentment, envy, or pity. You must not find a girl beautiful, crave even a little reputation, or take pleasure in a boy or a cake. You should know that other people surround themselves with walls, houses, and darkness when they do such things. They have many ways to hide. A man shuts the door and posts someone outside the room. If anyone comes, the servant says that the man is out or unavailable. But the Cynic must use modesty as his protection instead of all these things. Without modesty, he will be indecent, naked and exposed under the open sky. Modesty is his house and his door. It is the slave outside his bedroom. It is his darkness. For he must not want to hide anything he does. If he does, he is lost. He has lost his character as a Cynic, a man who lives under the open sky, a free man. He has begun to fear something outside himself and to need concealment. Yet he cannot hide whenever he chooses. Where can he hide, and how? And if this public instructor, this teacher, should happen to be found out, what will he be forced to suffer? If a man fears these things, can he watch over others with complete boldness? He cannot. It is impossible.
In the first place then you must make your ruling faculty pure, and this mode of life also. Now (you should say), to me the matter to work on is my understanding, as wood is to the carpenter, as hides to the shoemaker; and my business is the right use of appearances. But the body is nothing to me: the parts of it are nothing to me. Death? Let it come when it chooses, either death of the whole or of a part. Fly, you say. And whither; can any man eject me out of the world? He cannot. But wherever I go, there is the sun, there is the moon, there are the stars, dreams, omens, and the conversation (ὁμιλία) with Gods.
First, you must purify your ruling faculty and your way of life. You should say: My understanding is the material I work on, as wood is for a carpenter and hides for a shoemaker. My work is to make the right use of appearances. But my body means nothing to me. Its parts mean nothing to me. Death? Let it come when it chooses, whether it takes my whole body or just a part. You say, “Run away.” But where? Can anyone drive me out of the world? No. Wherever I go, there is the sun, the moon, and the stars. There are dreams, omens, and conversation (ὁμιλία) with Gods.
Then, if he is thus prepared, the true Cynic cannot be satisfied with this; but he must know that he is sent a messenger from Zeus to men about good and bad things, to show them that they have wandered and are seeking the substance of good and evil where it is not, but where it is, they never think; and that he is a spy, as Diogenes was carried off to Philip after the battle of Chaeroneia as a spy. For in fact a Cynic is a spy of the things which are good for men and which are evil, and it is his duty to examine carefully and to come and report truly, and not to be struck with terror so as to point out as enemies those who are not enemies, nor in any other way to be perturbed by appearances nor confounded.
Then, if he is prepared in this way, the true Cynic cannot be satisfied with that alone. He must know that Zeus has sent him as a messenger to people about good and bad things. He must show them that they have gone astray. They seek the substance of good and evil where it does not exist. But they never think to look where it does exist. He must also know that he is a spy. Diogenes was taken to Philip as a spy after the battle of Chaeroneia. In fact, a Cynic is a spy who investigates what is good and what is evil for people. His duty is to examine these things carefully and return with a truthful report. He must not be so frightened that he identifies people as enemies when they are not. Nor must he let appearances disturb or confuse him in any other way.
Today, the role that corresponds to this description of the Cynic is that of a religious teacher.
See i. 24, note 3.
It is his duty then to be able with a loud voice, if the occasion should arise, and appearing on the tragic stage to say like Socrates: Men, whither are you hurrying, what are you doing, wretches? like blind people you are wandering up and down: you are going by another road, and have left the true road: you seek for prosperity and happiness where they are not, and if another shows you where they are, you do not believe him. Why do you seek it without? In the body? It is not there. If you doubt, look at Myro, look at Ophellius. In possessions? It is not there. But if you do not believe me, look at Croesus: look at those who are now rich, with what lamentations their life is filled. In power? It is not there. If it is, those must be happy who have been twice and thrice consuls; but they are not. Whom shall we believe in these matters? You who from without see their affairs and are dazzled by an appearance, or the men themselves? What do they say? Hear them when they groan, when they grieve, when on account of these very consulships and glory and splendour they think that they are more wretched and in greater danger. Is it in royal power? It is not: if it were, Nero would have been happy, and Sardanapalus. But neither was Agamemnon happy, though he was a better man than Sardanapalus and Nero; but while others are snoring, what is he doing?
It is his duty, then, to be able to speak in a loud voice if the occasion arises. Like an actor on a tragic stage, he must be able to say, as Socrates did: Men, where are you rushing? What are you doing, you wretches? You wander about like blind people. You have left the true road and taken another. You seek prosperity and happiness where they cannot be found. And if someone shows you where they are, you do not believe him. Why do you look for happiness outside yourself? In the body? It is not there. If you doubt it, look at Myro, look at Ophellius. Is it in possessions? It is not there. But if you do not believe me, look at Croesus. Look at those who are rich now, and see how much they lament their lives. Is it in power? It is not there. If it were, those who have been consuls two or three times would be happy. But they are not. Whom should we believe about this? You, who see their lives from the outside and are dazzled by appearances, or the men themselves? What do they say? Listen to them groan and grieve. Because of these very consulships, their glory, and their splendor, they think they are more miserable and in greater danger. Is happiness in royal power? It is not. If it were, Nero and Sardanapalus would have been happy. But even Agamemnon was not happy, though he was a better man than Sardanapalus and Nero. While others are snoring, what is he doing?
These men are thought to have been strong gladiators. Croesus is the rich king of Lydia who was captured by Cyrus the Persian.
Much from his head he tore his rooted hair: Iliad, x. 15.
He tore much of his hair out by the roots: Iliad, x. 15.
and what does he say himself?
And what does he himself say?
'I am perplexed,' he says, 'and Disturb'd I am,' and 'my heart out of my bosom Is leaping.' Iliad x. 91.
'I am confused,' he says, 'and I am troubled,' and 'my heart Is leaping out of my chest.' Iliad x. 91.
Wretch, which of your affairs goes badly? Your possessions? No. Your body? No. But you are rich in gold and copper. What then is the matter with you? That part of you, whatever it is, has been neglected by you and is corrupted, the part with which we desire, with which we avoid, with which we move towards and move from things. How neglected? He knows not the nature of good for which he is made by nature and the nature of evil; and what is his own, and what belongs to another; and when any thing that belongs to others goes badly, he says, Wo to me, for the Hellenes are in danger. Wretched is his ruling faculty, and alone neglected and uncared for. The Hellenes are going to die destroyed by the Trojans. And if the Trojans do not kill them, will they not die? Yes; but not all at once. What difference then does it make? For if death is an evil, whether men die altogether, or if they die singly, it is equally an evil. Is any thing else then going to happen than the separation of the soul and the body? Nothing. And if the Hellenes perish, is the door closed, and is it not in your power to die? It is. Why then do you lament (and say) Oh, you who are a king and have the sceptre of Zeus? An unhappy king does not exist more than an unhappy god. What then art thou? In truth a shepherd: for you weep as shepherds do, when a wolf has carried off one of their sheep: and these who are governed by you are sheep. And why did you come hither? Was your desire in any danger? was your aversion (ἔκκλισις)? was your movement (pursuits)? was your avoidance of things? He replies, No; but the wife of my brother was carried off. Was it not then a great gain to be deprived of an adulterous wife?—Shall we be despised then by the Trojans?—What kind of people are the Trojans, wise or foolish? If they are wise, why do you fight with them? If they are fools, why do you care about them?
You wretch, what is going badly in your life? Your possessions? No. Your body? No. You are rich in gold and copper. So what is wrong with you? Whatever you call it, you have neglected and corrupted the part of you that desires and shuns things, that pursues and avoids them. How has it been neglected? You do not understand the nature of the good you were made for, or the nature of evil. You do not know what is yours and what belongs to someone else. And when something belonging to others goes badly, you say, “Woe is me, for the Hellenes are in danger.” Your ruling faculty is wretched. It alone is neglected and uncared for. “The Hellenes are going to die, destroyed by the Trojans.” And if the Trojans do not kill them, will they not die? Yes, but not all at once. What difference does that make? If death is an evil, it is equally evil whether people die all together or one by one. Will anything else happen besides the separation of soul and body? Nothing. And if the Hellenes perish, is the door closed? Is it not still in your power to die? It is. Then why do you lament, you who are a king and hold the sceptre of Zeus? An unhappy king is no more possible than an unhappy god. What are you, then? In truth, you are a shepherd. You weep as shepherds do when a wolf carries off one of their sheep. And those you govern are sheep. Why did you come here? Was your desire in danger? Was your aversion (ἔκκλισις)? Were your pursuits or your avoidance of things in danger? He replies, “No, but my brother’s wife was carried off.” Was it not a great gain for him to lose an adulterous wife? “But then the Trojans will despise us.” What sort of people are the Trojans, wise or foolish? If they are wise, why are you fighting them? If they are fools, why do you care about them?
A person, then, is understood to consist of a soul and a body. It may be useful to remember this when examining other passages in Epictetus.
In what then is the good, since it is not in these things? Tell us, you who are lord, messenger and spy. Where you do not think that it is, nor choose to seek it: for if you chose to seek it, you would have found it to be in yourselves; nor would you be wandering out of the way, nor seeking what belongs to others as if it were your own. Turn your thoughts into yourselves: observe the preconceptions which you have. What kind of a thing do you imagine the good to be? That which flows easily, that which is happy, that which is not impeded. Come, and do you not naturally imagine it to be great, do you not imagine it to be valuable? do you not imagine it to be free from harm? In what material then ought you to seek for that which flows easily, for that which is not impeded? in that which serves or in that which is free? In that which is free. Do you possess the body then free or is it in servile condition? We do not know. Do you not know that it is the slave of fever, of gout, ophthalmia, dysentery, of a tyrant, of fire, of iron, of every thing which is stronger? Yes, it is a slave. How then is it possible that any thing which belongs to the body can be free from hindrance? and how is a thing great or valuable which is naturally dead, or earth, or mud? Well then, do you possess nothing which is free? Perhaps nothing. And who is able to compel you to assent to that which appears false? No man. And who can compel you not to assent to that which appears true? No man. By this then you see that there is something in you naturally free. But to desire or to be averse from, or to move towards an object or to move from it, or to prepare yourself, or to propose to do any thing, which of you can do this, unless he has received an impression of the appearance of that which is profitable or a duty? No man. You have then in these things also something which is not hindered and is free. Wretched men, work out this, take care of this, seek for good here.
Where, then, is the good, if it is not in these things? Tell us, you who are lord, messenger, and spy. It is where you do not think it is, and where you choose not to seek it: in yourselves. If you chose to seek it, you would have found it there. You would not be wandering off course, or seeking what belongs to others as if it were your own. Look within yourselves. Consider the ideas you already have. What do you imagine the good to be? You imagine it as something that flows easily, is happy, and meets no obstacles. Come now, don't you naturally imagine it to be great and valuable? Don't you also imagine it to be safe from harm? Where, then, should you seek what flows easily and meets no obstacles? Should you seek it in what serves, or in what is free? In what is free. Is your body free, then, or is it in a condition of servitude? We do not know. Don't you know that it is the slave of fever, gout, eye disease, dysentery, a tyrant, fire, and iron? It is the slave of everything stronger than it. Yes, it is a slave. How, then, can anything belonging to the body be free from obstacles? And how can anything naturally dead, mere earth or mud, be great or valuable? Well then, do you possess nothing that is free? Perhaps nothing. But who can force you to accept what appears false? No one. And who can force you not to accept what appears true? No one. So you see that there is something in you that is naturally free. But can any of you desire or reject something, approach or avoid it, prepare yourself, or propose to act, without first seeing what appears useful or seems to be your duty? No one can. So in these things, too, you have something free and unhindered. Wretched men, develop this part of yourselves, take care of it, and seek the good here.
And how is it possible that a man who has nothing, who is naked, houseless, without a hearth, squalid, without a slave, without a city, can pass a life that flows easily? See, God has sent you a man to show you that it is possible. Look at me, who am without a city, without a house, without possessions, without a slave; I sleep on the ground; I have no wife, no children, no praetorium, but only the earth and heavens, and one poor cloak. And what do I want? Am I not without sorrow? am I not without fear? Am I not free? When did any of you see me failing in the object of my desire? or ever falling into that which I would avoid? did I ever blame God or man? did I ever accuse any man? did any of you ever see me with sorrowful countenance? And how do I meet with those whom you are afraid of and admire? Do not I treat them like slaves? Who, when he sees me, does not think that he sees his king and master?
How can a man live a life that flows easily when he has nothing? He is naked, homeless, filthy, and has no hearth, no slave, and no city. Look, God has sent you a man to show you that it is possible. Look at me. I have no city, no house, no possessions, and no slave. I sleep on the ground. I have no wife, no children, and no governor’s residence. I have only the earth and sky and one poor cloak. What more do I need? Am I not free from sorrow? Am I not free from fear? Am I not free? When have any of you seen me fail to get what I desire? When have you seen me fall into anything I wanted to avoid? Have I ever blamed God or man? Have I ever accused anyone? Have any of you ever seen me looking sad? And how do I treat the people you fear and admire? Don’t I treat them like slaves? Who sees me without thinking he is looking at his king and master?
"Epictetus seems to think that a teacher sent by God to instruct mankind must lack all external advantages and suffer. This excellent man brought human reason to a great height. In doing so, he bears witness to the wisdom of the method God chose for the Gospel. Its great author had nowhere to lay his head. Yet some in later ages have thoughtlessly used this as an argument against the Christian religion. The immense difference between Epictetus presenting Diogenes as an example and the New Testament presenting our Redeemer is too obvious to need further explanation." Mrs. Carter.
This is the language of the Cynics, this their character, this is their purpose. You say No: but their characteristic is the little wallet, and staff, and great jaws: the devouring of all that you give them, or storing it up, or the abusing unseasonably all whom they meet, or displaying their shoulder as a fine thing.—Do you see how you are going to undertake so great a business? First take a mirror: look at your shoulders; observe your loins, your thighs. You are going, my man, to be enrolled as a combatant in the Olympic games, no frigid and miserable contest. In the Olympic games a man is not permitted to be conquered only and to take his departure; but first he must be disgraced in the sight of all the world, not in the sight of Athenians only, or of Lacedaemonians or of Nicopolitans; next he must be whipped also if he has entered into the contests rashly: and before being whipped, he must suffer thirst and heat, and swallow much dust.
This is how the Cynics speak, this is their character, and this is their purpose. You say no. You say their defining features are a little bag, a staff, and huge jaws. They devour or store up everything you give them. They insult everyone they meet when there is no occasion for it, or show off their shoulders as if they were something fine. Do you see what a great undertaking you are about to take on? First, get a mirror. Look at your shoulders, your waist, and your thighs. My friend, you are about to enter the Olympic games as a competitor. This is no feeble, miserable contest. At the Olympic games, a man cannot simply lose and walk away. First, he must be disgraced before the whole world, not just before Athenians, Lacedaemonians, or Nicopolitans. Then he must also be whipped if he entered the contests rashly. And before he is whipped, he must endure thirst and heat and swallow a great deal of dust.
The text reads εἰκῇ ἐξελθόντα. Meibomius suggested replacing ἐξελθόντα with εισελθόντα. Schweig seems to prefer εἰσελθόντα, and I have used that word in my translation. I think there is no doubt that the correction is right.
[8] Reflect more carefully, know thyself, consult the divinity, without God attempt nothing; for if he shall advise you (to do this or anything), be assured that he intends you to become great or to receive many blows. For this very amusing quality is conjoined to a Cynic: he must be flogged like an ass, and when he is flogged, he must love those who flog him, as if he were the father of all, and the brother of all.—You say No; but if a man flogs you, stand in the public place and call out, Caesar, what do I suffer in this state of peace under thy protection?' Let us bring the offender before the proconsul.—But what is Caesar to a Cynic, or what is a proconsul or what is any other except him who sent the Cynic down hither, and whom he serves, namely Zeus? Does he call upon any other than Zeus? Is he not convinced that whatever he suffers, it is Zeus who is exercising him? Hercules when he was exercised by Eurystheus did not think that he was wretched, but without hesitation he attempted to execute all that he had in hand. And is he who is trained to the contest and exercised by Zeus going to call out and to be vexed, he who is worthy to bear the sceptre of Diogenes? Hear what Diogenes says to the passers by when he is in a fever, Miserable wretches, will you not stay? but are you going so long a journey to Olympia to see the destruction or the fight of athletes; and will you not choose to see the combat between a fever and a man? Would such a man accuse God who sent him down as if God were treating him unworthily, a man who gloried in his circumstances, and claimed to be an example to those who were passing by? For what shall he accuse him of? because he maintains a decency of behaviour, because he displays his virtue more conspicuously? Well, and what does he say of poverty, about death, about pain? How did he compare his own happiness with that of the great king (the king of Persia)? or rather he thought that there was no comparison between them. For where there are perturbations, and griefs, and fears, and desires not satisfied, and aversions of things which you cannot avoid, and envies and jealousies, how is there a road to happiness there? But where there are corrupt principles, there these things must of necessity be.
[8] Think more carefully, know yourself, and consult the divinity. Attempt nothing without God. For if he advises you to do this or anything else, be assured that he intends you to become great or receive many blows. For a Cynic has this very amusing duty: he must be flogged like a donkey. And when he is flogged, he must love those who flog him, as if he were everyone's father and brother. You say no. You say that if someone flogs you, you should stand in the public square and cry out, "Caesar, what am I suffering in this peaceful state under your protection?" Let us bring the offender before the proconsul. But what is Caesar to a Cynic? What is a proconsul or anyone else to him, except Zeus, who sent the Cynic down here and whom he serves? Does he call on anyone but Zeus? Is he not convinced that Zeus is training him through whatever he suffers? When Eurystheus put Hercules to the test, Hercules did not think himself miserable. Instead, he set about every task before him without hesitation. So will a man trained for the contest by Zeus cry out and complain, if he is worthy to carry the sceptre of Diogenes? Listen to what Diogenes says to passersby when he has a fever: "Miserable wretches, won't you stop? Will you travel all the way to Olympia to watch athletes fight or be destroyed? And won't you choose to watch the struggle between a fever and a man?" Would such a man accuse God, who sent him down, of treating him unworthily? He took pride in his circumstances and presented himself as an example to passersby. What would he accuse God of? Of making him behave decently? Of making him display his virtue more plainly? And what does Diogenes say about poverty, death, and pain? How did he compare his own happiness with that of the great king (the king of Persia)? In fact, he thought there was no comparison. For how can there be a path to happiness where there is turmoil, grief, and fear? How can there be happiness where desires go unfulfilled, where people dread things they cannot avoid, and where envy and jealousy exist? But wherever principles are corrupt, these things must necessarily exist.
'E caelo descendit γνώθι σεαυτόν' Juvenal xi. 27. The expression 'Know thyself' is attributed to several people, including Socrates. Self-knowledge is one of the hardest kinds of knowledge to attain, and no one has it completely. People either overestimate their abilities, which is called vanity, self-conceit, or arrogance. Or they underestimate their abilities and fail to accomplish what they could with reasonable self-confidence.
"Compare this with the Christian teachings on patience and love for enemies, Matthew v. 39–44. Christ describes more serious injuries and provocations than Epictetus does. He also requires all his followers to do what Epictetus describes as the duty of only one or two extraordinary people, precisely because they are extraordinary." Mrs. Carter.
Upton quotes Hieronymus lib. ii. adversus Jovianum, where the story is told differently.
I have not translated the words ὅτι κατηγορεῖ because I do not understand them. See Schweig.'s note.
When the young man asked, if when a Cynic has fallen sick, and a friend asks him to come to his house and to be taken care of in his sickness, shall the Cynic accept the invitation, he replied, And where shall you find, I ask, a Cynic's friend? For the man who invites ought to be such another as the Cynic that he may be worthy of being reckoned the Cynic's friend. He ought to be a partner in the Cynic's sceptre and his royalty, and a worthy minister, if he intends to be considered worthy of a Cynic's friendship, as Diogenes was a friend of Antisthenes, as Crates was a friend of Diogenes. Do you think that if a man comes to a Cynic and salutes him, that he is the Cynic's friend, and that the Cynic will think him worthy of receiving a Cynic into his house? So that if you please, reflect on this also: rather look round for some convenient dunghill on which you shall bear your fever and which will shelter you from the north wind that you may not be chilled. But you seem to me to wish to go into some man's house and to be well fed there for a time. Why then do you think of attempting so great a thing (as the life of a Cynic)?
The young man asked what a Cynic should do if he fell sick and a friend invited him home to care for him. Should he accept the invitation? Epictetus replied, Where, I ask you, will you find a Cynic's friend? The man who invites him must be another Cynic, worthy of being counted as his friend. He must share in the Cynic's scepter and kingship and be a worthy servant, if he hopes to be worthy of a Cynic's friendship. Diogenes was such a friend to Antisthenes, and Crates to Diogenes. Do you think that a man becomes a Cynic's friend just by coming up and greeting him? Do you think the Cynic will consider him worthy of taking a Cynic into his home? So please, consider this too. Instead, look around for a suitable dung heap where you can endure your fever. It should shelter you from the north wind so you will not get chilled. But it seems to me that you want to go into someone's house and be well fed there for a while. Why, then, do you think of attempting something as great as the life of a Cynic?
This must be the meaning. Meibomius suggested that the correct reading is Κυνικοῦ, not Κυνικόν. Schweig. seems to agree. I have repeated the word Cynic several times to remove all ambiguity in this section.
See Schweig.'s note on ὥστε ἄν σοι δοκῇ.
But, said the young man, shall marriage and the procreation of children as a chief duty be undertaken by the Cynic? If you grant me a community of wise men, Epictetus replies, perhaps no man will readily apply himself to the Cynic practice. For on whose account should he undertake this manner of life? However if we suppose that he does, nothing will prevent him from marrying and begetting children; for his wife will be another like himself, and his father in law another like himself, and his children will be brought up like himself. But in the present state of things which is like that of an army placed in battle order, is it not fit that the Cynic should without any distraction be employed only on the ministration of God, able to go about among men, not tied down to the common duties of mankind, nor entangled in the ordinary relations of life, which if he neglects, he will not maintain the character of an honourable and good man? and if he observes them he will lose the character of the messenger, and spy and herald of God. For consider that it is his duty to do something towards his father in law, something to the other kinsfolks of his wife, something to his wife also (if he has one). He is also excluded by being a Cynic from looking after the sickness of his own family, and from providing for their support. And to say nothing of the rest, he must have a vessel for heating water for the child that he may wash it in the bath; wool for his wife when she is delivered of a child, oil, a bed, a cup: so the furniture of the house is increased. I say nothing of his other occupations, and of his distraction. Where then now is that king, he who devotes himself to the public interests,
But the young man said, should a Cynic make marriage and having children a chief duty? Epictetus replied, if you grant me a community of wise men, perhaps no one will readily take up the Cynic way of life. For whose sake should he undertake it? But if we suppose that he does, nothing will prevent him from marrying and having children. His wife and father-in-law will be like him, and his children will be brought up to be like him. But things are now like an army drawn up for battle. Should not the Cynic devote himself, without distraction, solely to the service of God? He must be able to move among people, free from the common duties and ordinary relationships of life. If he neglects those duties and relationships, he will fail to be an honorable and good man. But if he attends to them, he will no longer be God's messenger, scout, and herald. Consider what he must do for his father-in-law, his wife's other relatives, and his wife, if he has one. Being a Cynic also prevents him from caring for his family when they are sick and providing for their support. To say nothing of the rest, he must have a vessel to heat water for bathing the child. He must have wool for his wife after she gives birth, as well as oil, a bed, and a cup. So the household furnishings increase. I say nothing of his other occupations and distractions. Where, then, is that king who devotes himself to the public interest,
The Stoics recommended marriage, having children, holding public office, and fulfilling the duties of social life generally.
The people's guardian and so full of cares. Homer, Iliad ii. 25
The people's guardian, burdened with so many worries. Homer, Iliad ii. 25
whose duty it is to look after others, the married and those who have children; to see who uses his wife well, who uses her badly; who quarrels; what family is well administered, what is not; going about as a physician does and feels pulses? He says to one, you have a fever, to another you have a head-ache, or the gout: he says to one, abstain from food; to another he says, eat; or do not use the bath; to another, you require the knife, or the cautery. How can he have time for this who is tied to the duties of common life? is it not his duty to supply clothing to his children, and to send them to the schoolmaster with writing tablets, and styles (for writing). Besides must he not supply them with beds? for they
whose duty is it to look after others, those who are married and have children? Who must see who treats his wife well and who treats her badly, who quarrels, and which families are well managed? Who must go around like a doctor, feeling people’s pulses? He tells one person that he has a fever, another that he has a headache or gout. He tells one person not to eat, and another to eat or not to bathe. He tells another that he needs surgery or cauterization. How can someone tied to the duties of ordinary life have time for this? Must he not provide clothes for his children and send them to their teacher with writing tablets and styluses? And must he not provide beds for them? For they
The word is ἀνάτεινον. Compare ii. 17, 9.
The text reads γραφεία, τιλλάρια. There should probably be only one word. See Schweig.'s note. Horace (Sat. i. 6. 73) mentions boys going to school.
[17] cannot be genuine Cynics as soon as they are born. If he does not do this, it would be better to expose the children as soon as they are born than to kill them in this way. Consider what we are bringing the Cynic down to, how we are taking his royalty from him.—Yes, but Crates took a wife.—You are speaking of a circumstance which arose from love and of a woman who was another Crates. But we are inquiring about ordinary marriages and those which are free from distractions, and making this inquiry we do not find the affair of marriage in this state of the world a thing which is especially suited to the Cynic.
[17] cannot be genuine Cynics as soon as they are born. If he does not do this, it would be better to expose the children at birth than to kill them this way. Consider what we are reducing the Cynic to, and how we are stripping him of his royal status. Yes, but Crates married. You are speaking of a marriage that arose from love, to a woman who was another Crates. But we are considering ordinary marriages, free from distractions. And in the world as it is, we find that marriage is not especially suited to the Cynic.
Crates’ wife was Hipparchia. She married him despite all advice against it and lived exactly as he did. Diogenes Laertius, vi. 96. Upton.
There is some uncertainty about ἀπερισπάστων here. Upton proposed ἀπεριστάτων instead, which he explains as 'that which has nothing peculiar in it.'
How then shall a man maintain the existence of society? In the name of God, are those men greater benefactors to society who introduce into the world to occupy their own places two or three grunting children, or those who superintend as far as they can all mankind, and see what they do, how they live, what they attend to, what they neglect contrary to their duty? Did they who left little children to the Thebans do them more good than Epaminondas who died childless? And did Priamus who begat fifty worthless sons or Danaus or Aeolus contribute more to the community than Homer? then shall the duty of a general or the business of a writer exclude a man from marriage or the begetting of children, and such a man shall not be judged to have accepted the condition of childlessness for nothing; and shall not the royalty of a Cynic be considered an equivalent for the want of children? Do we not perceive his grandeur and do we not justly contemplate the character of Diogenes; and do we instead of this turn our eyes to the present Cynics who are dogs that wait at tables, and in no respect imitate the Cynics of old except perchance in breaking wind, but in nothing else? For such matters would not have moved us at all nor should we have wondered if a Cynic should not marry or beget children. Man, the Cynic is the father of all men; the men are his sons, the women are his daughters: he so carefully visits all, so well does he care for all. Do you think that it is from idle impertinence that he rebukes those whom he meets? He does it as a father, as a brother, and as the minister of the father of all, the minister of Zeus.
How, then, can a man help society survive? For God’s sake, who does society more good? Is it the men who bring two or three grunting children into the world to take their places, or those who watch over all humanity as best they can? The latter see what people do, how they live, what they attend to, and what duties they neglect. Did those who left young children to the Thebans do them more good than Epaminondas, who died childless? Did Priamus, who fathered fifty worthless sons, or Danaus or Aeolus do more for the community than Homer? A man’s duties as a general or a writer may keep him from marrying or having children. In that case, we do not think he has accepted childlessness for nothing. So should we not also consider the royal calling of a Cynic enough to make up for having no children? Do we not see his greatness and properly consider the character of Diogenes? Or do we look instead at today’s Cynics? They are dogs waiting at tables. They imitate the Cynics of old in no way, except perhaps by breaking wind. Otherwise, they do not imitate them at all. For such matters would not have troubled us, and we would not have wondered why a Cynic did not marry or have children. Man, the Cynic is the father of all people. Men are his sons, and women are his daughters. He visits all of them with such care, and looks after them so well. Do you think he rebukes the people he meets out of idle meddling? He does it as a father, as a brother, and as a servant of the father of all, a servant of Zeus.
Schweig. translates κακορυγχα as 'male grunnientes': perhaps it means 'ugly-faced.'
If you please, ask me also if a Cynic shall engage in the administration of the state. Fool, do you seek a greater form of administration than that in which he is engaged? Do you ask if he shall appear among the Athenians and say something about the revenues and the supplies, he who must talk with all men, alike with Athenians, alike with Corinthians, alike with Romans, not about supplies, nor yet about revenues, nor about peace or war, but about happiness and unhappiness, about good fortune and bad fortune, about slavery and freedom? When a man has undertaken the administration of such a state, do you ask me if he shall engage in the administration of a state? ask me also if he shall govern (hold a magisterial office): again I will say to you, Fool, what greater government shall he exercise than that which he exercises now?
If you like, ask me whether a Cynic should also take part in governing the state. Fool, do you imagine any greater role in government than the one he already has? Do you ask whether he should appear before the Athenians and speak about revenues and supplies? He must speak with all men, Athenians, Corinthians, and Romans alike. He must speak not about supplies or revenues, nor about peace or war, but about happiness and unhappiness, good fortune and bad fortune, slavery and freedom. When a man has undertaken to govern such a state, do you ask whether he should take part in governing a state? Ask me also whether he should govern by holding public office. Again I will say to you, Fool, what greater authority could he exercise than the authority he exercises now?
It is necessary also for such a man (the Cynic) to have a certain habit of body: for if he appears to be consumptive, thin and pale, his testimony has not then the same weight. For he must not only by showing the qualities of the soul prove to the vulgar that it is in his power independent of the things which they admire to be a good man, but he must also show by his body that his simple and frugal way of living in the open air does not injure even the body. See, he says, I am a proof of this, and my own body also is. So Diogenes used to do, for he used to go about fresh looking, and he attracted the notice of the many by his personal appearance. But if a Cynic is an object of compassion, he seems to be a beggar: all persons turn away from him, all are offended with him; for neither ought he to appear dirty so that he shall not also in this respect drive away men; but his very roughness ought to be clean and attractive.
A Cynic must also be in good physical condition. If he looks sickly, thin, and pale, his testimony carries less weight. He must show ordinary people through his character that he can be a good man without the things they admire. But he must also show, through his body, that his simple, frugal life outdoors does not harm even his body. See, he says, I am proof of this, and so is my body. Diogenes did this. He went about looking healthy, and his appearance attracted the attention of many people. But if people pity a Cynic, he seems like a beggar. Everyone turns away from him, and everyone is offended by him. He should not look dirty, since that too would drive people away. Even his rough appearance should be clean and attractive.
There ought also to belong to the Cynic much natural grace and sharpness; and if this is not so, he is a stupid fellow, and nothing else; and he must have these qualities that he may be able readily and fitly to be a match for all circumstances that may happen. So Diogenes replied to one who said, Are you the Diogenes who does not believe that there are gods? And, how, replied Diogenes, can this be when I think that you are odious to the gods? On another occasion in reply to Alexander, who stood by him when he was sleeping, and quoted Homer's line (Iliad, ii. 24)
A Cynic should also have natural grace and wit. Without these qualities, he is nothing but a fool. He needs them so that he can respond quickly and appropriately to any circumstances that may arise. For example, someone once asked Diogenes, “Are you the Diogenes who does not believe in gods?” Diogenes replied, “How can that be, when I think the gods hate you?” On another occasion, Alexander stood beside Diogenes while he was sleeping and quoted a line from Homer (Iliad, ii. 24). Diogenes replied to him:
Diogenes Laertius, vi. 42.
A man a councillor should not sleep all night,
A councillor should not sleep all night,
he answered, when he was half asleep,
he answered while he was half asleep,
The people's guardian and so full of cares.
The people's protector, burdened with so many worries.
But before all the Cynic's ruling faculty must be purer than the sun; and if it is not, he must necessarily be a cunning knave and a fellow of no principle, since while he himself is entangled in some vice he will reprove others. For see how the matter stands: to these kings and tyrants their guards and arms give the power of reproving some persons, and of being able even to punish those who do wrong though they are themselves bad; but to a Cynic instead of arms and guards it is conscience (τὸ συνειδός) which gives this power. When he knows that he has watched and laboured for mankind, and has slept pure, and sleep has left him still purer, and that he thought whatever he has thought as a friend of the gods, as a minister, as a participator of the power of Zeus, and that on all occasions he is ready to say
But above all, a Cynic’s ruling faculty must be purer than the sun. If it is not, he must be a cunning scoundrel with no principles. For he will be criticizing others while caught in some vice himself. Consider how this works. Kings and tyrants can criticize some people because they have guards and weapons. Even though they are bad themselves, they can also punish those who do wrong. But a Cynic has no weapons or guards. Instead, his conscience (τὸ συνειδός) gives him this power. He knows that he has stayed awake and worked for humanity. He knows that he went to sleep pure and woke even purer. He knows that whatever he has thought, he thought as a friend and servant of the gods, sharing in the power of Zeus. And he knows that on every occasion he is ready to say
For Epictetus, the Cynic is a minister of religion. He must be pure. Otherwise, how can he condemn vice? This is a useful lesson for those whose job is to correct human vices.
Lead me, O Zeus, and thou, O Destiny;
Lead me, Zeus and Destiny.
See ii. 23, 42, note 11.
and also, If so it pleases the gods, so let it be; why should he not have confidence to speak freely to his own brothers, to his children, in a word to his kinsmen? For this reason he is neither over curious nor a busybody when he is in this state of mind; for he is not a meddler with the affairs of others when he is superintending human affairs, but he is looking after his own affairs. If that is not so, you may also say that the general is a busybody, when he inspects his soldiers, and examines them and watches them and punishes the disorderly. But if while you have a cake under your arm, you rebuke others, I will say to you, Will you not rather go away into a corner and eat that which you have stolen; what have you to do with the affairs of others? For who are you? are you the bull of the herd, or the queen of the bees? Show me the tokens of your supremacy, such as they have from nature. But if you are a drone claiming the sovereignty over the bees, do you not suppose that your fellow citizens will put you down as the bees do the drones?
And also, if it pleases the gods, let it be so. Why should he not feel free to speak openly to his brothers, his children, and, in short, his relatives? When he thinks this way, he is neither overly curious nor a busybody. In looking after human affairs, he is not meddling in other people’s business. He is looking after his own. Otherwise, you could also call a general a busybody when he inspects and watches his soldiers and punishes the disorderly. But if you scold others while hiding a cake under your arm, I will say to you: Why not go into a corner and eat what you have stolen? What business do you have with other people’s affairs? Who are you? Are you the bull of the herd or the queen of the bees? Show me the signs of your authority, like those nature has given them. But if you are a drone claiming to rule the bees, do you not think your fellow citizens will put you down, as bees put down drones?
The Cynic also ought to have such power of endurance as to seem insensible to the common sort and a stone: no man reviles him, no man strikes him, no man insults him, but he gives his body that any man who chooses may do with it what he likes. For he bears in mind that the inferior must be overpowered by the superior in that in which it is inferior; and the body is inferior to the many, the weaker to the stronger. He never then descends into such a contest in which he can be overpowered; but he immediately withdraws from things which belong to others, he claims not the things which are servile. But where there is will and the use of appearances, there you will see how many eyes he has so that you may say, Argus was blind compared with him. Is his assent ever hasty, his movement (towards an object) rash, does his desire ever fail in its object, does that which he would avoid befal him, is his purpose unaccomplished, does he ever find fault, is he ever humiliated, is he ever envious? To these he directs all his attention and energy; but as to every thing else he snores supine. All is peace; there is no robber who takes away his will, no tyrant. But what say you as to his body? I say there is. And his possessions? I say there is. And as to magistracies and honours?—What does he care for them?—When then any person would frighten him through them, he says to him, Begone, look for children: masks are formidable to them; but I know that they are made of shell, and they have nothing inside.
The Cynic should also have such endurance that ordinary people think him as unfeeling as a stone. No one can abuse him, strike him, or insult him. He offers his body to anyone who chooses to do with it as they please. For he remembers that the inferior must be overcome by the superior in whatever respect it is inferior. The body is weaker than the crowd, just as the weaker person is inferior to the stronger. So he never enters a contest in which he can be overcome. He immediately withdraws from things that belong to others and makes no claim to things that belong to slaves. But when it comes to his will and his use of appearances, you will see how many eyes he has. You might say that Argus was blind compared with him. Does he ever agree too quickly? Does he act rashly in pursuit of something? Does he ever fail to get what he desires? Does anything he wants to avoid happen to him? Does he ever fail to achieve his purpose? Does he ever find fault? Is he ever humiliated? Is he ever envious? He directs all his attention and energy to these matters. But as for everything else, he lies on his back and snores. All is peace. No robber or tyrant can take away his will. But what about his body? I say a robber or tyrant can take that away. And his possessions? I say the same. And what about public offices and honors? What does he care for them? So when anyone tries to frighten him with such things, he says, “Go away and find children. Masks frighten them. But I know that masks are made of shell and have nothing inside.”
M. Antoninus quotes this in xi. 36.
About such a matter as this you are deliberating. Therefore, if you please, I urge you in God's name, defer the matter, and first consider your preparation for it. For see what Hector says to Andromache, Retire rather, he says, into the house and weave:
This is the kind of matter you are considering. So, if you please, I urge you in God's name to put it off. First consider how prepared you are for it. See what Hector says to Andromache: Go back into the house instead and weave:
War is the work of men Of all indeed, but specially 'tis mine. Il. vi. 490.
War is the work of men, Of all men, but especially mine. Il. vi. 490.
So he was conscious of his own qualification, and knew her weakness.
So he was aware of his own ability and knew her weakness.
Quod petis hic est, Est Ulubris, animus si te non deficit aequus. Horace, Ep. i. 11, 30. Willst du immer weiter schweifen? Sieh, das Gute liegt so nah. Lerne nur das Glück ergreifen, Denn das Glück ist immer da. Goethe, Gedichte.
What you seek is here. It is in Ulubrae, if you keep an even temper. Horace, Ep. i. 11, 30. Will you keep wandering farther and farther? Look, what is good lies so close. Just learn to seize happiness, for happiness is always there. Goethe, Gedichte.