. . . Well then, did you never see
little dogs caressing and playing with one another, so that you might say there
is nothing more friendly? But, that you may know what friendship is, throw a
bit of flesh among them, and you will learn.
Throw between yourself and your son a
little estate, and you will know how soon he will wish to bury you and how soon
you wish your son to die. Then you will change your tone and say, “What a son I
have brought up! He has long been wishing to bury me.”
Throw a smart girl between you; and do
you, the old man, love her, and the young one will love her too, If a little
fame intervene, or dangers, it will be just the same. . . .
—Epictetus,
Discourses 2.22, tr Long
We must
be careful, at this point in the text, not to become distressed or discouraged.
Epictetus will now offer a number of examples of the fickle and unreliable varieties
of love and friendship, and he will show how base and cruel we can all truly
be. Think of these, perhaps, as viewing the symptoms before we can consider a
cure. Understanding all the abuses of our nature can help us to understand how
to live with it rightly.
I also
need to remind myself that, for all of his skill at presenting an argument
directly and clearly, Epictetus hardly has the best bedside manner of all the
Stoic philosophers.
The
analogy of animals can be of assistance, for few things seem as affectionate as
the playfulness and tenderness of animals. But place some different desire in
the way of the affection, and we will be overcome by their viciousness.
Yet there
are immediate limits to such an analogy. The animal is ruled by feeling and
instinct alone, and will act based upon such appearances alone. Now man also
possesses such feelings and instincts, but surely his judgment of the good can
direct his awareness of the good? Hence the good will only be what is pleasing
to the animal, but it can be what is virtuous for a man.
It
certainly should be what is virtuous for a man, but observe how often this is not the
case. It is right and good for an animal to be just an animal, but not for a
man to be just an animal. We nevertheless act just like animals all the time,
because we surrender our reason by choosing to be ruled only by our passions.
The
desire for money, or pleasure, or fame all too readily breaks the bonds of
friendship that reason asks of us. If I choose to judge beyond the external appearances,
I will understand that there should be unity and fellowship between men. We
were all made for the same purpose, to act with wisdom and with virtue, and
there needs to be absolutely no conflict or competition for all of us to share
in those same goods.
But as
soon as I say I want wealth, or sex, or reputation more than I want character, I
have chosen to flip the order of human priorities. I will now sell out the good
of my friend, a good clear to sound thinking, for the good of my passions, a
false appearance of the human good.
Written on 2/2002
Image: Hermann Kern, "Good Friends" (1904)
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