Lectures · Lecture 14

14.1

When someone else said that marriage and life with a wife seemed to him to be an obstacle to the practice of philosophy, Musonius replied: It was no obstacle to Pythagoras, nor to Socrates, nor to Crates, each of whom lived with a wife; and no one could point to others who practiced philosophy better than they did. And yet Crates was without a home, without possessions, and utterly without property, and nevertheless he married; then, having no dwelling of his own, he spent his days and nights in the public colonnades of Athens together with his wife. But we, who set out from a home, and some of us with household slaves to serve us, still dare to say that marriage is an obstacle to philosophy? Now surely the philosopher is the teacher and guide of humankind in all matters that belong to a human being according to nature; and marrying, if anything is, is manifestly according to nature. For why else did the creator of humankind first divide our race in two, and then make it with two sets of genitals, the one female and the other male, and then implant in each a strong desire for the company and union of the other, and blend into both a strong longing for one another—in the male for the female, in the female for the male? Is it not, then, evident that he wished them to be together and to live together and to contrive together the things that pertain to life, and to bring about the birth and rearing of children in common, so that our race might be everlasting? Well then, tell me: is it fitting that each person should attend also to his neighbor's affairs, and see to it that there are households in his city, and that the city not be left desolate, and that the common good be well maintained? For if you say that one should look only to his own concerns, you declare that a human being is no different from a wolf or any of the other most savage beasts, whose nature it is to live by violence and greed, sparing nothing from which they may reap some pleasure, having no share in community, no share in the cooperation that comes from one another, no share in justice of any kind. But if you will agree that human nature closely resembles that of the bee—which cannot live alone, for it perishes when isolated, but bends its effort toward one common work of its kind, and joins in acting and working together with those near it—if this is so, and if in addition it is held that vice in a human being consists in injustice and savagery and indifference toward the misfortune of one's neighbor, while virtue is love of humankind, kindness, justice, being a benefactor, and being caring toward one's neighbor—then in this way each person must take thought for his own city, and must build a household as a bulwark for the city.

14.2

The beginning of establishing a household is marriage. And so whoever does away with marriage among human beings does away with the household, and does away with the city, and does away with the whole human race. For it could not endure if there were no birth of children, and there would be no birth—at least none just and lawful—if there were no marriage. For it is clear that a household or a city is composed neither of women alone nor of men alone, but of the community of the two with one another; and one could find no other community of men and women that is more necessary or more dear. For what comrade is so agreeable to a comrade as a beloved wife is to her husband? What brother to a brother? What son to his parents? Who, when absent, is so longed for as a husband by his wife and a wife by her husband? Whose presence would more surely lighten grief, or increase joy, or set right misfortune? For whom is it held that all things are held in common—bodies and souls and property—except for a husband and wife? For these reasons all human beings consider the affection between husband and wife to be the oldest of all; and no mother or father in his right mind claims to be dearer to his own child than the one joined to that child in marriage. And that well-known story too seems to make clear how much the affection of a wife toward her husband surpasses that of parents toward their children: for when Admetus received this gift from the gods—that, if he could provide someone to die in his place, he would live twice the time allotted to him—he did not find his parents willing to die before him, though they were already old; but his wedded wife Alcestis, though she was quite young, readily accepted death in place of her husband.

14.3

That marriage is a great and worthy object of concern is clear from this too: for the gods watch over it—those who are held among human beings to be great. First Hera, and for this reason we call her the goddess of the yoke; then Eros; then Aphrodite. For we suppose that all these have made it their work to bring man and woman together with one another for the begetting of children. Where indeed would Eros more rightly be present than at the lawful union of man and woman? Where would Hera? Where would Aphrodite? And when would anyone more fittingly pray to these gods than when going to be married? And what work, in calling it the work of Aphrodite, could we more properly call so than the union of a wife with the man who has married her? Why then, one might ask, do such great gods oversee and watch over marriage and the begetting of children, yet these things do not befit a human being? Or why is it that these things befit a human being, but do not befit the philosopher? Is it because the philosopher ought to be worse than other people? But he ought not; rather he ought to be better and more just and more noble. Or is it because a man who does not care for his own city is not worse and more unjust than one who does care for it, or the one who looks only to his own affairs than the one who considers the common good? Or because the one who chooses a solitary life is more a lover of his city and of humankind and more given to community than the one who manages a household and produces children and increases his own city—things which belong to the one who marries? That the philosopher, then, ought to attend to marriage and the begetting of children is clear. And if this befits him, how could that argument you were just now making be correct, young man—that marriage is an obstacle to the philosopher? For philosophizing manifestly is nothing other than to search out in argument what is proper and befitting, and to do it in deed. That, then, is the sort of thing he said on that occasion.