Ch. 22
Of the Cynic philosophy.
When one of his scholars, who seemed inclined
to the Cynic philosophy, asked him what a
Cynic must be, and what was the general plan of
that sect, Let us examine it, he said, at our leisure. But thus much I can tell you now, that he
who attempts so great an affair without divine guidance is an object of divine wrath, and would only
bring public dishonor upon himself. For in a well-regulated house no one comes and says to himself,
"I ought to be the manager here." If he does, and
the master returns and sees him insolently giving
orders, he drags him out and has him punished.
Such is the case likewise in this great city. For
here, too, is a master of the family who orders everything. " You are the sun; you can, by making a circuit, form the year and the seasons, and increase and
nourish the fruits; you can raise and calm the winds,
and give an equable warmth to the bodies of men.
Go; make your circuit, and thus move everything
from the greatest to the least. You are a calf; when
the lion appears, act accordingly, or you will suffer for
it. You are a bull; come and fight; for that is incumbent on you and becomes you, and you can do
it. You can lead an army to Troy; be you Agamemnon. You can engage in single combat with
Hector; be you Achilles." But if Thersites had
come and claimed the command, either he would not
have obtained it, or, if he had, he would have disgraced himself before so many more witnesses.
Do you, too, carefully deliberate upon this undertaking; it is not what you think it. "I wear an
old cloak now, and I shall have one then. I sleep
upon the hard ground now, and I shall sleep so
then. I will moreover take a wallet and a staff, and
go about, and beg of those I meet, and begin by rebuking them; and if I see any one using effeminate
practices, or arranging his curls, or walking in purple,
I will rebuke him." If you imagine this to be the
whole thing, avaunt; come not near it; it belongs
not to you. But if you imagine it to be what it
really is, and do not think yourself unworthy of it,
consider how great a thing you undertake.
First, with regard to yourself; you must no longer,
in any instance, appear as now. You must accuse
neither God nor man. You must altogether control
desire, and must transfer aversion to such things
only as are controllable by Will. You must have
neither anger, nor resentment, nor envy, nor pity.
Neither boy, nor girl, nor fame, nor dainties must
have charms for you. For you must know that other
men indeed fence themselves with walls and houses
and darkness, when they indulge in anything of this
kind, and have many concealments; a man shuts the
door, places somebody before the apartment: "Say
that he is out; say that he is engaged." But the
Cynic, instead of all this, must fence himself with
virtuous shame; otherwise he will be improperly exposed in the open air. This is his house, this his
door, this his porter, this his darkness. He must not
wish to conceal anything relating to himself; for if
he does, he is gone; he has lost the Cynic character,
the openness, the freedom; he has begun to fear
something external; he has begun to need concealment, nor can he get it when he will. For where
shall he conceal himself, or how? For if this tutor,
this pedagogue of the public, should happen to slip,
what must he suffer? Can he, then, who dreads these
things, be thoroughly bold within, and prescribe to
other men? Impracticable, impossible.
In the first place, then, you must purify your own
ruling faculty, to match this method of life. Now,
the material for me to work upon is my own mind, as
wood is for a carpenter, or leather for a shoemaker;
and my business is a right use of things as they appear. But body is nothing to me; its parts nothing
to me. Let death come when it will, either of the
whole body or of part. "Go into exile." And
whither? Can any one turn me out of the universe?
He cannot. But wherever I go there is the sun, the
moon, the stars, dreams, auguries, communication
with God. And even this preparation is by no
means sufficient for a true Cynic. But it must further be known that he is a messenger sent from Zeus
to men, concerning good and evil; to show them that
they are mistaken, and seek the essence of good and
evil where it is not, but do not observe it where it is;
that he is a spy, like Diogenes, when he was brought
to Philip after the battle of Chaeronea. For, in effect, a Cynic is a spy to discover what things are
friendly, what hostile, to man; and he must, after
making an accurate observation, come and tell them
the truth; not be struck with terror, so as to point
out to them enemies where there are none; nor, in
any other instance, be disconcerted or confounded
by appearances.
He must, then, if it should so happen, be able to
lift up his voice, to come upon the stage, and say,
like Socrates:
O mortals, whither are you hurrying?
What are you about? Why do you tumble up and
down, O miserable wretches! like blind men? You
are going the wrong way, and have forsaken the right.
You seek prosperity and happiness in a wrong place,
where they are not; nor do you give credit to another,
who shows you where they are. Why do you seek
this possession without? It lies not in the body; if
you do not believe me, look at Myro, look at Ofellius.
It is not in wealth; if you do not believe me, look
upon Croesus; look upon the rich of the present age,
how full of lamentation their life is. It is not in
power; for otherwise, they who have been twice and
thrice consuls must be happy; but they are not. To
whom shall we give heed in these things, - to you
who look only upon the externals of their condition,
and are dazzled by appearances, or to themselves?
What do they say? Hear them when they groan,
when they sigh, when they pronounce themselves the
more wretched and in more danger from these very
consulships, this glory and splendor. It is not in
empire; otherwise Nero and Sardanapalus had been
happy. But not even Agamemnon was happy, though
a better man than Sardanapalus or Nero. But when
others sleep soundly, what is he doing?
Forth by the roots he rends his hairs. Homer, Iliad, 10.15; 91-5.- H.
And what does he himself say?
"I wander bewildered; my heart leaps forth from my
bosom."
Why, which of your affairs goes ill, poor wretch,
your possessions? No. Your body? No. But you
have gold and brass in abundance. What then goes
ill? That part of you is neglected and corrupted,
whatever it be called, by which we desire, and shrink;
by which we pursue, and avoid. How neglected? It
is ignorant of that for which it was naturally formed,
of the essence of good, and of the essence of evil. It
is ignorant what is its own, and what another's. And
when anything belonging to others goes ill, it says, " I
am undone; the Greeks are in danger ! " (Poor ruling faculty ! which alone is neglected, and has no care
taken of it.) "They will die by the sword of the
Trojans ! " And if the Trojans should not kill them,
will they not die? "Yes, but not all at once." Why,
where is the difference? For if it be an evil to die,
then whether it be all at once or singly, it is equally
an evil. Will anything more happen than the separation of soul and body? " Nothing." And when the
Greeks perish, is the door shut against you? Is it not
in your power to die? "It is." Why then do you
lament, while you are a king and hold the sceptre of
Zeus? A king is no more to be made unfortunate
than a god. What are you, then? You are a mere
shepherd, truly so called; for you weep, just as shepherds do when the wolf seizes any of their sheep;
and they who are governed by you are mere sheep.
But why do you come hither? Was your desire
in any danger; your aversion; your pursuits; your
avoidances? "No," he says, "but my brother's wife
has been stolen." Is it not great good luck, then, to
be rid of an adulterous wife? " But must we be held
in contempt by the Trojans? " What are they, - wise
men, or fools? If wise, why do you go to war with
them? If fools, why do you heed them?
Where, then, does our good lie, since it does not
lie in these things? Tell us, sir, you who are our
messenger and spy. Where you do not think, nor
are willing to seek it. For if you were willing, you
would find it in yourselves; nor would you wander
abroad, nor seek what belongs to others, as your own.
Turn your thoughts upon yourselves. Consider the
impressions which you have. What do you imagine
good to be? What is prosperous, happy, unhindered.
Well, and do you not naturally imagine it great?
Do you not imagine it valuable? Do you not imagine it incapable of being hurt? Where, then, must
you seek prosperity and exemption from hindrance,
- in that which is enslaved, or free? " In the free."
Is your body, then, enslaved or free? We do not
know. Do you not know that it is the slave of fever,
gout, defluxion, dysentery; of a tyrant; of fire, steel;
of everything stronger than itself? " Yes, it is a slave."
How, then, can anything belonging to the body be
unhindered? And how can that be great or valuable,
which is by nature lifeless, earth, clay? What, then;
have you nothing free? "Possibly nothing." Why,
who can compel you to assent to what appears false?
No one. Or who, not to assent to what appears true?
No one. Here, then, you see that there is something
in you naturally free. But which of you can desire or
shun, or use his active powers of pursuit or avoidance,
or prepare or plan anything, unless he has been impressed by an appearance of its being for his advantage or his duty? No one. You have, then, in these
too something unrestrained and free. Cultivate this,
unfortunates; take care of this; seek for good here.
" But how is it possible that a man destitute, naked,
without house or home, squalid, unattended, an outcast, can lead a prosperous life?" See; God hath
sent us one, to show in practice that it is possible.
"Take notice of me, that I am without a country,
without a house, without an estate, without a servant;
I lie on the ground; have no wife, no children, no
coat; but have only earth and heaven and one poor
cloak. And what need I? Am not I without sorrow,
without fear? Am not I free? Did any of you ever
see me disappointed of my desire, or incurring my
aversion? Did I ever blame God or man? Did I
ever accuse any one? Have any of you seen me look
discontented? How do I treat those whom you fear
and of whom you are struck with awe? Is it not like
poor slaves? Who that sees me does not think that
he sees his own king and master? " This is the language, this the character, this the undertaking, of a
Cynic. No, [but you think only of] the wallet and
the staff and a large capacity of swallowing and appropriating whatever is given you; abusing unseasonably
those you meet, or showing your bare arm. Do you
consider how you shall attempt so important an undertaking? First take a mirror. View your shoulders,
examine your back, your loins. It is the Olympic
Games, man, for which you are to be entered; not
a poor slight contest. In the Olympic Games a
champion is not allowed merely to be conquered and
depart; but must first be disgraced in the view of
the whole world, -not of the Athenians alone, or
Spartans, or Nicopolitans; and then he who has prematurely departed must be whipped too, and, before
that, must have suffered thirst and heat, and have
swallowed an abundance of dust.
Consider carefully, know yourself; consult the Divinity; attempt nothing without God; for if he counsels you, be assured that it is his will, whether that
you should become eminent, or that you should
suffer many a blow. For there is this fine circumstance connected with the character of a Cynic, that
he must be beaten like an ass, and yet, when beaten,
must love those who beat him as the father, as the
brother of all.
"No, to be sure; but if anybody beats you, stand
publicly and roar out, ' O Caesar ! am I to suffer such
things in breach of your peace? Let us go before the
Proconsul.' "
But what is Caesar to a Cynic, or what is the Proconsul, or any one else, but Zeus, who hath deputed
him, and whom he serves? Does he invoke any other
but him? And is he not persuaded that, whatever
he suffers of this sort, it is Zeus who doth it to exercise him? Now Hercules, when he was exercised
by Eurystheus, did not think himself miserable: but
executed with alacrity all that was to be done. And
shall he who is appointed to the combat, and exercised by Zeus, cry out and take offence at things? A
worthy person, truly, to bear the sceptre of Diogenes !
Hear what he in a fever said to those who were pass-
ing by.59 "Foolish men, why do you not stay? Do
you take such a journey to Olympia to see the destruction or combat of the champions; and have you
no inclination to see the combat between a man and
a fever?" Such a one, who took a pride in difficult
circumstances, and thought himself worthy to be a
spectacle to those who passed by, was a likely per
son indeed to accuse God, who had deputed him, as
treating him unworthily! For what subject of accusation shall he find, - that he preserves a decency
of behavior? With what does he find fault, - that
he sets his own virtue in a clearer light? Well; and
what does he say of poverty; of death; of pain i
How did he compare his happiness with that of the
Persian king; or rather, thought it beyond comparison ! For amidst perturbations, and griefs, and fears,
and disappointed desires, and incurred aversions, how
can there be any entrance for happiness? And where
there are corrupt principles, there must all these
things necessarily be.
-The same young man inquiring whether, if a
friend should desire to come to him and take care of
him when he was sick, he should comply? And where,
says Epictetus, will you find me the friend of a Cynic?
For to be worthy of being numbered among his friends,
a person ought to be such another as himself; he
ought to be a partner of the sceptre and the kingdom,
and a worthy minister, if he would be honored with
his friendship; as Diogenes was the friend of Antisthenes; as Crates, of Diogenes. Do you think that
he who only comes to him and salutes him is his
friend; and that he will think him worthy of being
entertained as such? If such a thought comes into
your head, rather look round you for some desirable
dunghill to shelter you in your fever from the north
wind, that you may not perish by taking cold. But
you seem to me to prefer to get into somebody's
house, and to be well fed there awhile. What business have you, then, even to attempt so important an
undertaking as this?
" But," said the young man, " will marriage and parentage be recognized as important duties by a Cynic? "
Grant me a community of sages, and no one there,
perhaps, will readily apply himself to the Cynic philosophy. For on whose account should he there
embrace that method of life? However, supposing
he does, there will be nothing to restrain him from
marrying and having children. For his wife will be
such another as himself, his father-in-law such another
as himself, and his children will be brought up in the
same manner. But as the state of things now is, like
that of an army prepared for battle, is it not necessary
that a Cynic should be without distraction;60 entirely
attentive to the service of God; at liberty to walk
among mankind; not tied down to common duties,
nor entangled in relations, which if he transgresses,
he will no longer keep the character of a wise and
good man; and which if he observes, there is an end
of him, as the messenger and spy and herald of the
gods? For consider, there are some offices due to
his father-in-law, some to the other relations of his
wife, some to his wife herself. Besides, after this, he
is confined to the care of his family when sick, and to
providing for their support. At the very least, he
must have a vessel to warm water in, to bathe his
child; there must be wool, oil, a bed, a cup for his
wife after her delivery; and thus the furniture increases; more business, more distraction. Where,
for the future, is this king whose time is devoted to
the public good?-
To whom the people is trusted, and many a care? Homer, Iliad, ii. 25. H.
who ought to superintend others, married men,
fathers of children, - whether one treats his wife
well or ill; who quarrels; which family is well regulated; which not, - like a physician who goes about
and feels the pulse of his patients: "You have a
fever; you the headache; you the gout. Do you
abstain from food; do you eat; do you omit bathing;
you must have an incision made; you be cauterized."
Where shall he have leisure for this who is tied down
to common duties? Must he not provide clothes for
his children, and send them, with pens and ink and
paper, to a schoolmaster? Must he not provide a bed
for them, - for they cannot be Cynics from their very
birth? Otherwise, it would have been better to expose them as soon as they were born than to kill them
thus. Do you see to what we bring down our Cynic;
how we deprive him of his kingdom? "Well, but
Crates61 was married." The case of which you speak
was a particular one, arising from love; and the
woman was another Crates. But we are inquiring
about ordinary and common marriages; and in this
inquiry we do not find the affair much suited to the
condition of a Cynic.
How then shall he keep up society?
For Heaven's sake, do they confer a greater benefit
upon the world who leave two or three brats in their
stead, than those who, so far as possible, oversee all
mankind,- what they do, how they live; what they
attend to, what they neglect, in spite of their duty?
Did all those who left children to the Thebans do
them more good than Epaminondas, who died childless? And did Priam, who was the father of fifty
profligates, or Danaus, or Aeolus, conduce more to
the advantage of society than Homer? Shall a military command, or any other post, then, exempt a
man from marrying and becoming a father, so that
he shall be thought to have made sufficient amends
for the want of children; and shall not the kingdom
of a Cynic be a proper compensation for it? Perhaps we do not understand his grandeur, nor duly
represent to ourselves the character of Diogenes; but
we think of Cynics as they are now, who stand like
dogs watching at tables, and who have only the lowest
things in common with the others; else things like
these would not move us, nor should we be astonished
that a Cynic will not marry nor have children. Consider, sir, that he is the father of mankind; that all
men are his sons, and all women his daughters. Thus
he attends to all; thus takes care of all. What! do
you think it is from impertinence that he rebukes
those he meets? He does it as a father, as a brother,
as a minister of the common parent, Zeus.
Ask me, if you please, too, whether a Cynic will
engage in the administration of the commonwealth.
What commonwealth do you inquire after, foolish
man, greater than what he administers? Why should
he harangue among the Athenians about revenues
and taxes, whose business it is to debate with all
mankind, - with the Athenians, Corinthians, and
Romans equally,- not about taxes and revenues, or
peace and war, but about happiness and misery, prosperity and adversity, slavery and freedom? Do you
ask me whether a man engages in the administration
of the commonwealth who administers such a commonwealth as this? Ask me, too, whether he will
accept any command. I will answer you again, What
command, foolish one, is greater than that which he
now exercises?
But he has need of a constitution duly qualified;
for if he should appear consumptive, thin, and pale,
his testimony has no longer the same authority. For
he must not only give a proof to the vulgar, by the
constancy of his mind, that it is possible to be a man
of weight and merit without those things that strike
them with admiration; but he must show, too, by his
body, that a simple and frugal diet, under the open
air, does no injury to the constitution. "See, I and
my body bear witness to this." As Diogenes did;
for he went about in hale condition, and gained the
attention of the many by his mere physical aspect.
But a Cynic in poor condition seems a mere beggar;
all avoid him, all are offended at him; for he ought
not to appear slovenly, so as to drive people from him;
but even his indigence should be clean and attractive.
Much natural tact and acuteness are likewise neces-
sary in a Cynic (otherwise he is almost worthless),
that he may be able to give an answer, readily and
pertinently, upon every occasion. So Diogenes, to
one who asked him, " Are you that Diogenes who does
not believe there are any gods?" How so, replied
he, when I think you odious to them? Again, when
Alexander surprised him sleeping, and repeated,--
To sleep all the night becomes not a man who gives counsel; Homer, Iliad, ii. 24, 25.- H.
before he was quite awake, he responded,-
"To whom the people is trusted, and many a care."
But, above all, the reason of the man must be
clearer than the sun; otherwise he must necessarily be
a common cheat and a rascal if, while himself guilty
of some vice, he reproves others. For consider how
the case stands. Arms and guards give a power to
common kings and tyrants of reproving and of punishing delinquents, though they be wicked themselves;
but to a Cynic, instead of arms and guards, conscience
gives this power. When he knows that he has watched
and labored for mankind; that he has slept pure,
and waked still purer; and that he hath regulated all
his thoughts as the friend, as the minister of the gods,
as a partner of the empire of Zeus; that he is ready
to say, upon all occasions, -
Conduct me, Zeus, and thou, O Destiny, Cleanthes, in Diogenes Laertius.- H.
and, " If it thus pleases the gods, thus let it be,"
why should he not dare to speak boldly to his own
brethren, to his children; in a word, to his kindred?
Hence he who is thus qualified is neither impertinent nor a busybody; for he is not busied about the
affairs of others, but his own, when he oversees the
transactions of men. Otherwise call a general a busybody, when he oversees, inspects, and watches his soldiers and punishes the disorderly. But if you reprove
others at the very time that you have booty under
your own arm, I will ask you if you had not better go
into a corner, and eat up what you have stolen. But
what have you to do with the concerns of others?
For what are you? Are you the bull in the herd, or
the queen of the bees? Show me such ensigns of empire as she has from nature. But if you are a drone,
and arrogate to yourself the kingdom of the bees, do
you not think that your fellow-citizens will drive you
out, just as the bees do the drones?
A Cynic must, besides, have so much patience as to
seem insensible and like a stone to the vulgar. No
one reviles, no one beats, no one affronts him; but he
has surrendered his body to be treated at pleasure by
any one who will. For he remembers that the inferior,
in whatever respect it is the inferior, must be conquered
by the superior; and the body is inferior to the multitude, the weaker to the stronger. He never, therefore, enters into a combat where he can be conquered,
but immediately gives up what belongs to others; he
does not claim what is slavish and dependent; but
in what concerns Will and the use of things as they
appear you will see that he has so many eyes, you
would say Argus was blind to him. Is his assent ever
precipitate; his pursuits ever rash; his desire ever
disappointed; his aversion ever incurred; his aim
ever fruitless? Is he ever querulous, ever dejected,
ever envious? Here lies all his attention and application. With regard to other things, he enjoys profound
quiet. All is peace. There is no robber, no tyrant
for the Will. But there is for the body? Yes. The
estate? Yes. Magistracies and honors? Yes. And
what cares he for these? When any one, therefore,
would frighten him with them he says: "Go look for
children; masks are frightful to them; but I know
they are only shells, and have nothing within."
Such is the affair about which you are deliberating;
therefore, if you please, for Heaven's sake ! defer it,
and first consider how you are prepared for it. Observe what Hector says to Andromache,--
War is the sphere for all men, and for me. Homer, Iliad, vi. 492, 493.- H.
Thus conscious was he of his own qualifications and
of her weakness.
