1. Whereinsoever a man is zealous, this, it is fair to suppose, he loveth. Are men, then, zealous for evil things? Never. Or, perchance, for things which do not concern them? Nor for them either. It remaineth, then, that they are zealous about good things only; and that if they are zealous about them, they also love them. Whosoever, then, hath understanding of good things, the same would know how to love. But he who is not able to distinguish good things from evil, and things that are neither from both, how could this man yet be capable of loving? To love, then, is a quality of the wise alone.
1. Whatever a person eagerly pursues, it is fair to suppose they love. Do people, then, eagerly pursue evil things? Never. Or perhaps things that do not concern them? Not those either. So they eagerly pursue only good things. And if they eagerly pursue them, they also love them. Whoever understands good things, then, would know how to love. But what about someone who cannot distinguish good from evil, or things that are neither from both? How could this person be capable of loving? Only the wise, then, are capable of love.
Zealous for evil things. Epictetus must mean things people know are evil, pursued because they are evil. This chapter again refers to the Socratic teaching that no one ever does evil willingly or knowingly.
2. And how is this, saith one, for I am foolish, and none the less do I love my child. By the Gods! I wonder, then, how you have begun by confessing yourself to be foolish. For wherein do you lack? Do you not use your senses? do you not judge of appearances? do you not bring to the body the nourishment it needeth, and the covering and habitation? Wherefore, then, confess yourself to be a fool? Because, forsooth, you are often perplexed by appearances, and troubled, and you are vanquished by their plausibility; and you take the same things to be now good, and now evil, and then indifferent; and, in a word, you grieve and fear and envy, and are troubled, and changed—for these things you confess yourself a fool.
2. How can that be, someone asks, since I am foolish, yet I still love my child? By the gods! I wonder, then, why you began by admitting you are foolish. What do you lack? Don’t you use your senses? Don’t you judge how things appear? Don’t you give your body the food, clothing, and shelter it needs? Why, then, admit you are a fool? Because you are often confused and troubled by appearances, and their seeming truth overcomes you. You consider the same things good at one moment, bad at another, and then neither good nor bad. In short, you grieve, fear, envy, grow troubled, and change your mind. These are the reasons you admit you are a fool.
3. But do you never change in love? But is it wealth, and pleasure, and, in short, things, alone that you sometimes take to be good and sometimes evil? and do you not take the same men to be now good, now evil? and sometimes you are friendly disposed towards them, and sometimes hostile? and sometimes you praise them, and sometimes you blame?
3. But do your feelings of love never change? Is it only wealth, pleasure, and things in general that you sometimes consider good and sometimes evil? Don’t you also consider the same people good at one time and evil at another? Aren’t you sometimes friendly toward them and sometimes hostile? Don’t you sometimes praise them and sometimes blame them?
——“Yea, even so I do.”
“Yes, that is exactly what I do.”
What then? a man who hath been deceived about another, is he, think you, his friend?
What then? If a man has been mistaken about someone, do you think he is that person's friend?
——“Assuredly not.”
“Certainly not.”
And one who hath taken a friend out of a humor for change, hath he good-will towards him?
And if someone chooses a friend out of a desire for change, does he wish that friend well?
——“Nor he either.”
“Not him either.”
And he who now reviles another, and afterwards reveres him?
And what about someone who insults another person now, then later reveres him?
——“Nor he.”
“Neither does he.”
What then? Sawest thou never the whelps of a dog, how they fawn and sport with each other, that you would say nothing can be more loving? But to know what friendship is, fling a piece of flesh among them, and thou shalt learn. And cast between thee and thy child a scrap of land, and thou shalt learn how the child will quickly wish to bury thee, and thou wilt pray that he may die. And then thou wilt say, What a child have I nourished! this long time he is burying me! Throw a handsome girl between you, and the old man will love her, and the young too; and if it be glory, or some risk to run, it will be on the same fashion. You will speak the words of the father of Admetus:—
What then? Have you never seen puppies fawning over one another and playing together? You would say nothing could be more loving. But to know what friendship is, throw a piece of meat among them, and you will learn. Put a small piece of land between you and your child, and you will learn. Your child will soon wish to bury you, and you will pray for his death. Then you will say, What a child I have raised! All this time he has been burying me! Put a beautiful girl between you, and both the old man and the young man will love her. If glory or some risk is at stake, it will be the same. You will speak the words of Admetus’s father:
A father and son competing in love was a favorite theme in later Greek and Roman comedy.
An oracle told Admetus, husband of Alcestis, that his wife must die unless someone offered to take her place. He thought his father should take on this duty, since he was old and had few years left. The first verse quoted is from the Alcestis of Euripides. The second does not appear in any surviving version of that play.
“Day gladdens thee; think’st thou it glads not me? Thou lovest light; think’st thou I love the dark?”
“Day brings you joy. Do you think it brings me none? You love the light. Do you think I love the dark?”
Think you this man did not love his own child when it was little? nor was in agony if it had a fever? nor said many a time, Would that I had the fever rather than he! Then when the trial cometh and is near at hand, lo, what words they utter! And Eteocles and Polyneices, were they not children of the same mother and the same father? were they not brought up together, did they not live together, drink together, sleep together, and often kiss one another? So that any one who saw them, I think, would have laughed at the philosophers, for the things they say perversely about friendship. But when royalty, like a piece of flesh, hath fallen between them, hear what things they speak:—
Do you think this man did not love his child when the child was little? Was he not in agony when his child had a fever? Did he not often say, If only I had the fever instead of him! Yet when the test comes and is close at hand, look at what they say! And Eteocles and Polyneices, did they not have the same mother and father? Were they not raised together? Did they not live together, drink together, sleep together, and often kiss each other? I think anyone who saw them would have laughed at the philosophers for their seemingly unreasonable claims about friendship. But when kingship falls between them like a piece of meat, listen to what they say:
Eteocles and Polyneices, sons of Œdipus, fought over who would inherit their father’s kingdom. Eteocles took control of it. Polyneices then led his allies, the famous seven kings, against Thebes. His brother killed him in battle there, and he also killed his brother. The quoted verses are from the Phœnissæ of Euripides.
“Pol. Where wilt thou stand before the towers? “Et. Wherefore seekest thou to know? “Pol. There I too would stand and slay thee. “Et. Thou hast spoken my desire.”
“Pol. Where will you stand in front of the towers? “Et. Why do you want to know? “Pol. I would stand there too and kill you. “Et. That is what I want too.”
4. For universally, be not deceived, nothing is so dear to any creature as its own profit. Whatsoever may seem to hinder this, be it father or child or friend or lover, this he will hate and abuse and curse. For Nature hath never so made anything as to love aught but its own profit: this is father and brother and kin and country and God. When, then, the Gods appear to hinder us in this, we revile even them, and overthrow their images and burn their temples; as Alexander, when his friend died, commanded to burn the temples of Esculapius.
4. Make no mistake, nothing is dearer to any creature than its own self-interest. Whatever seems to threaten this, whether father, child, friend, or lover, it will hate, abuse, and curse. For Nature has never made anything love anything more than its own self-interest. This is its father, brother, family, country, and God. So when the gods seem to threaten our self-interest, we insult even them, tear down their statues, and burn their temples. When Alexander’s friend died, he ordered the temples of Asclepius to be burned.
5. Therefore, if a man place in the same thing both profit and holiness, and the beautiful and fatherland, and parents and friends, all these things shall be saved; but if he place profit in one thing, and friends and fatherland and kinsfolk, yea, and righteousness itself some other where, all these things shall perish, for profit shall outweigh them. For where the I and the Mine are, thither, of necessity, inclineth every living thing: if in the flesh, then the supremacy is there; if in the Will, it is there; if in outward things, it is there. If, then, mine I is where my Will is, thus only shall I be the friend I should be, or the son or the father. For my profit then will be to cherish faith and piety and forbearance and continence and helpfulness; and to guard the bonds of relation. But if I set Myself in one place and Virtue some otherwhere, then the word of Epicurus waxeth strong, which declareth that there is no Virtue, or, at least, that Virtue is but conceit.
5. If someone places his own benefit, holiness, moral beauty, country, parents, and friends in the same thing, all will be preserved. But suppose he places his benefit in one thing, and friends, country, relatives, and even righteousness itself somewhere else. All these things will be lost, because his benefit will outweigh them. For every living thing necessarily turns toward whatever it considers “I” and “mine.” If these lie in the body, the body rules. If they lie in the will, the will rules. If they lie in external things, external things rule. Only if my sense of self lies in my will can I be the friend, son, or father I should be. Then my benefit will lie in cultivating faithfulness, reverence, patience, self-control, and helpfulness, and in protecting the bonds of relationship. But if I place myself in one thing and virtue somewhere else, then Epicurus’s claim gains force. He declares that there is no virtue, or at least that virtue is merely an imagined idea.
6. Through this ignorance did Athenians and Lacedæmonians quarrel with each other, and Thebans with both of them, and the Great King with Hellas, and Macedonians with both of them, and even now Romans with Getæ; and through this yet earlier the wars of Ilion arose. Paris was the guest of Menelaus; and if any one had seen how friendly-minded towards each other they were, he would have disbelieved any one who said they were not friends. But a morsel was flung between them—a fair woman, and about her there was war. And now when you see friends or brothers that seem to be of one mind, argue nothing from this concerning their friendship; nay, not if they swear it, not if they declare that they cannot be parted from each other. For in the ruling faculty of a worthless man there is no faith; it is unstable, unaccountable, victim of one appearance after another. But try them, not, as others do, if they were born of the same parents and nurtured together, and under the same tutor; but by this alone, wherein they place their profit, whether in outward things or in the will. If in outward things, call them no more friends than faithful or steadfast or bold or free; yea, nor even men, if you had sense. For that opinion hath nothing of humanity that makes men bite each other, and revile each other, and haunt the wildernesses, or the public places, like the mountains, and in the courts of justice to show forth the character of thieves; nor that which makes men drunkards and adulterers and corruptors, nor whatever other ills men work against each other through this one and only opinion, that They and Theirs lie in matters beyond the Will. But if you hear, in sooth, that these men hold the Good to be there only where the Will is, where the right use of appearances is, then be not busy to inquire if they are father and son, or brothers, or have long time companied with each other as comrades; but, knowing this one thing alone, argue confidently that they are friends, even as they are faithful and upright. For where else is friendship than where faith is, where piety is, where there is an interchange of virtue, and none of other things than that?
6. This ignorance made Athenians and Spartans fight each other, and Thebans fight both. It made the Great King fight Greece, Macedonians fight both, and even now Romans fight the Getae. Earlier still, it caused the Trojan War. Paris was Menelaus’s guest. Anyone who saw their friendliness would have refused to believe they were not friends. But a tempting prize was thrown between them, a beautiful woman, and they went to war over her. So when you see friends or brothers who seem to agree, draw no conclusions about their friendship. Do not believe it even if they swear to it or say they cannot be parted. There is no loyalty in the ruling mind of a worthless person. It is unstable, unpredictable, swayed by one impression after another. But test them differently from most people. Do not ask whether they share the same parents, grew up together, or had the same teacher. Ask only where they place their advantage, in external things or in their will. If they place it in external things, do not call them friends, loyal, steadfast, courageous, or free. If you had any sense, you would not even call them human. There is nothing humane in a belief that makes people bite and insult each other. It makes them prowl through wildernesses, or treat public places like mountain haunts, and behave like thieves in court. Nor is there anything humane in a belief that makes people drunkards, adulterers, and corrupters of others. The same goes for every other harm people do one another because of this single belief. They believe that their selves and what belongs to them lie in things beyond the will. But suppose you hear that these people place the good only in the will, in the right use of impressions. Then do not trouble yourself about whether they are father and son, brothers, or longtime companions. Knowing this one thing alone, confidently conclude that they are friends, just as they are loyal and upright. For where else can friendship exist but where there is loyalty, reverence, and a sharing of virtue, and nothing else?
Schweighäuser understands this passage to mean that these men occupy public places as wild beasts occupy the mountains, preying on others. Reading ὡς τὰ θηρία instead of ὡς τὰ ὄρη would make the meaning clearer: “haunt the wilderness—I should say the public places—like wild beasts.” The text is clearly damaged somewhere.
7. But such a one hath shown kindness to me so long, and is he not my friend? Slave, whence knowest thou if he did not show thee kindness as he wipes his shoes or tends his beast? Whence knowest thou if, when thy use is at an end as a vessel, he will not cast thee away like a broken plate? But she is my wife, and we have lived together so long? And how long lived Eriphyle with Amphiaraus, and was the mother, yea, of many children? But a necklace came between them. But what is a necklace? It is the opinion men have concerning such things. That was the wild beast nature, that was the sundering of love, that which would not allow the woman to be a wife, or the mother a mother. And of you, whosoever hath longed either to be a friend himself or to win some other for a friend, let him cut out these opinions, let him hate them and drive them from his soul.
7. But this person has been kind to me for so long. Isn’t he my friend? Slave, how do you know he hasn’t treated you kindly as he wipes his shoes or tends his animal? How do you know he won’t throw you away like a broken plate when you’re no longer useful? But she is my wife, and we have lived together so long? How long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus? And wasn’t she the mother of many children? But a necklace came between them. Yet what is a necklace? It is the opinion people hold about such things. That opinion was the savage instinct. It was what tore love apart. It kept the woman from being a wife and the mother from being a mother. Whoever among you has wanted to be a friend or to gain one must cut out these opinions. Hate them and drive them from your soul.
Polyneices bribed Eriphyle with this necklace to persuade her reluctant husband to march with him against Thebes. Her husband died there.
8. And thus he will not revile himself, nor be at strife with himself, nor be variable, nor torment himself. And to another, if it be one like himself, he will be altogether as to himself, but with one unlike he will be forbearing and gentle and mild, ready to forgive him as an ignorant man, as one who is astray about the greatest things; but harsh to no man, being well assured of that dogma of Plato, that no soul is willingly deprived of the truth.
8. And so he will not insult himself, fight with himself, waver, or torment himself. He will treat another person like himself exactly as he treats himself. But with someone unlike himself, he will be patient, gentle, and kind, ready to forgive his ignorance. He will see that this person is mistaken about the most important things. But he will be harsh to no one. He is firmly convinced of Plato’s teaching that no soul is willingly deprived of the truth.
9. But otherwise you may do all things whatsoever, even as friends are wont to do, and drink together, and dwell together, and voyage together, and be born from the same parents, for so are snakes; but friends they are not, nor are ye, so long as ye hold these accursed doctrines of wild beasts.
9. But otherwise you may do everything friends normally do. You may drink together, live together, travel together, and be born to the same parents, as snakes are. But snakes are not friends, and neither are you, as long as you hold these cursed beliefs of wild beasts.