XVII · ANTISTHENES AS FORERUNNER OF CYNICISM

From the Life of Antisthenes by Diogenes Laertius

533 Antisthenes, son of Antisthenes, was an Athenian, but it was said that he was not of pure Athenian birth; and accordingly, when someone sneered at him for this, he retorted, ‘The mother of the gods too is a Phrygian’;* for his mother was thought to have been a Thracian. So when he fought with great valour at the battle of Tanagra,* he gave Socrates occasion to remark that a man born to Athenian parents could hardly have turned out so brave.* He for his own part cast scorn on the way in which Athenians prided themselves on having sprung from the earth,* saying that this did not mean that they were of any higher birth than snails and locusts.

He was initially a pupil of Gorgias the rhetorician,* hence the rhetorical style of the language that he employs in his dialogues, and especially in his Truth and Exhortations. Hermippos* recounts that at the gathering for the Isthmian Games, he had intended to deliver an address in which he would censure and praise the Athenians, Thebans, and Lacedaimonians; but he abandoned this plan when he saw a great many people arriving from those states. After a time, however, he attached himself to Socrates, and profited so greatly from him that he urged his own pupils to join with him in becoming fellow-pupils of Socrates. Since he was living in the Peiraeus, he used to walk forty stades* to the city each day to listen to Socrates, from whom he learned the art of endurance, and by emulating his impassivity of mind, became the original founder of the Cynic philosophy. And he argued that hardship* is a good thing, pointing to the great Heracles and to Cyrus,* drawing one example from the Greeks and the other from the barbarians….

These were some of his teachings. He set out to show that virtue can be taught, and that true nobility belongs only to the virtuous; that virtue suffices to ensure happiness, requiring nothing further apart from the strength of a Socrates;* that virtue is founded in actions, and does not require a great many words or much learning; that the wise man is self-sufficient, for all that belongs to others belongs to him too; that ill-repute is a good thing, of equivalent value to hardship; that the wise man will conduct his duties as a citizen not in accordance with the established laws, but according to the law of virtue; that he will marry in order to have children, through union with the best-endowed women; and that he will feel love, since only the wise know who are worthy to be loved.

Diocles ascribes the following sayings to him. To the wise man nothing is alien or impracticable. The good man is worthy to be loved. One should ally oneself with those who are at once courageous and just. Virtue is a weapon of which one cannot be deprived. It is better to fight with a few good men against all who are bad than to fight with a multitude of bad men against a few who are good. One should pay good heed to one’s enemies since they are the first to recognize one’s errors. One should value an honest man above a relation. Virtue is the same for a woman as for a man. What is good is honourable and what is bad is shameful. Regard all that is wicked as alien. Wisdom is the most secure fortification, since it can neither collapse nor be betrayed. One must construct a fortress for oneself through one’s own impregnable reasonings.

He used to converse in the gymnasium of the Cynosarges* (‘the White Dog’), not far outside the city gates, and it is from that, so some people claim, that the Cynic school acquired its name. Antisthenes himself was nicknamed Haplokuon* (‘Plain Dog’), and he was the first to fold his cloak double, according to Diocles, and to make do with that single garment and to carry a staff and knapsack. Neanthes states likewise that he was the first to double his cloak.* Sosicrates says, however, in the third book of his Successions, that Diodoros of Aspendos* was the first to do this, and that he also let his beard grow and used to carry a stick and knapsack.

Of all the Socratics, Antisthenes is the only one to be praised by Theopompos,* who says that he was most accomplished and could win over whomever he pleased by the charm of his discourse, as is plain too from his own writings and from Xenophon’s Symposium. It would seem that the most manly part of the Stoic school can trace its origin to him.

(Diogenes Laertius 6.1–2 and 6.10–14)

534 Antisthenes argues in Xenophon’s Symposium that true wealth lies in being satisfied with little:

‘And now for your part’, said Socrates, ‘what is it that you most pride yourself on, Antisthenes?’ ‘On my wealth,’ he replied. Whereupon Hermogenes asked him if he had plenty of money; but he swore that he owned not a penny. ‘Well, a large amount of land, then?’ ‘Perhaps sufficient to enable Autolycos here to dust himself with it.’*

‘Well now,’ said Socrates, ‘the time has come for you to explain to us, Antisthenes, how it is that, with such scanty means, you pride yourself on your wealth.’ ‘Because it is my conviction, gentlemen, that people’s wealth and poverty are located, not in their property, but in their soul. For in everyday life, I see many people who, although they already have a considerable fortune, regard themselves as being so poor that they will take on any amount of effort or risk if only it will enable them to add more to their possessions; and I also know of brothers with whom one finds that, although both have an equal inheritance, one of them has enough—and indeed more than enough—to cover his expenses, while the other is in the utmost want. I know, furthermore, of certain despots who have such a greed for wealth that they will commit worse crimes than those who are in dire want. For it is of course out of want that people turn to theft, or burglary, or the slave-trade; but there are some despots who destroy entire families, commit mass-murder, and often even enslave entire cities for the sake of money. For such people I feel great pity, though, since they are in the grip of a very cruel disease; for in my view they are in the same plight as one who has large possessions and eats a great deal without ever being able to satisfy his hunger.* But as for me, my wealth is so great that I can barely discover any part of it; and yet all the same I am sufficiently well provided to be able to eat until I no longer feel any hunger, to drink until I no longer feel any thirst, and have clothes enough to ensure that, when I go outside, I feel no chillier than Callias here with all his abundant riches; and when I get back home again, the walls serve me, so I think, as the warmest of tunics, and the roofs as the thickest of cloaks, and I have sufficient bedclothes to ensure that it is quite a business to wake me in the morning. If I feel any need for sexual gratification, I am so well satisfied with what the moment provides, so that the women whom I approach welcome me with the utmost joy,* having no one else at all who wants to court their favours. Well then, all of this furnishes me with so much pleasure that, in every case, I am inclined to pray for less rather than more, fancying that some of this is more pleasurable than is good for me.

But of all my wealth of possessions, I consider this to be the most precious, that even if I were to be robbed of what I presently have, I know of no form of work that would be so mean as to fail to provide me with adequate support. For whenever I feel a desire to indulge myself, I do not buy delicacies in the market-place (those are too expensive for me) but draw from the store-house of my soul. And when it comes to pleasure, besides, I think it much better to await the promptings of need before partaking of anything, rather than to share in any of your costly fare, as now when I am drinking this fine Thasian wine which chance has set before me without my having any real thirst for it. Yes, and it is surely also the case that those who live a simple life are more honest than those who make it their aim to amass worldly goods. For those who are most satisfied with what they have are least likely to covet the possessions of others.

It is worth noting, furthermore, that wealth of the kind that we are envisaging also makes people more generous. Just look at Socrates here, from whom I acquired these riches of mine; he did not dole them out to me by weight or measure, but simply delivered over to me as much of it as I could carry. And now for my own part, I am not mean or grudging with anyone, but pass on this wealth that I have in my soul to anyone who wants it. Yes, and my choicest possession of all is, as you can observe, that I am always at my leisure, so that I can go off and see what is worth seeing, or hear what is worth hearing, and, what I value first and foremost, I can spend the whole day at leisure with Socrates here. And he likewise does not reserve his admiration for those who can come up with the most money, but spends his time in the company of those whom he finds pleasing.’

(Xenophon, Symposium 3.8 and 4.34–44)