will lose the function of a messenger, and sentinel, and herald of the gods?” Epictetus proceeds to point out that if he is married he can no longer look after the spiritual interests of all with whom he is thrown in contact, and no longer maintain the rigid independence of all luxuries which marked the genuine philosopher.  He must, for instance, have a bath for his child, provisions for his wife’s ailments, and clothes for his little ones, and money to buy them satchels and pens, and cribs and cups; and hence a general increase of furniture, and all sorts of undignified distractions, which Epictetus enumerates with an almost amusing manifestation of disgust.  It is true (he admits) that Crates, a celebrated cynic, was married, but it was to a lady as self-denying as himself, and to one who had given up wealth and friends to share hardship and poverty with him.  And, if Epictetus does not venture to say in so many words that Crates in this matter made a mistake, he takes pains to point out that the circumstances were far too exceptional to be accepted as a precedent for the imitation of others.

“But,” inquires the interlocutor, “how then is the world to get on?” The question seems quite to disturb the bachelor equanimity of Epictetus; it makes him use language of the strongest and most energetic contempt:  and it is only when he trenches on this subject that he ever seems to lose the nobility and grace, the “sweetness and light,” which are the general characteristic of his utterances.  In spite of his complete self-mastery he was evidently a man of strong feelings, and with a natural tendency to express them strongly.  “Heaven bless us,” he exclaims in reply, “are they greater benefactors of mankind who bring into the world two or three evilly-squalling brats,[63] or those who, to the best of their power, keep a beneficent eye on the lives, and habits, and tendencies of all mankind?  Were the Thebans who had large families more useful to their country than the childless Epaminondas; or was Homer less useful to mankind than Priam with his fifty good-for-nothing sons?...  Why, sir, the true cynic is a father to all men; all men are his sons and all women his daughters; he has a bond of union, a lien of affection with them all.” (Dissert. iii. 22.)

[Footnote 63:  [Greek:  kakorrugcha paidia].  Another reading is [Greek:  kokorugcha], which M. Martha renders, “Marmots a vilain petit museau!” It is evident that Epictetus did not like children, which makes his subsequently mentioned compassion to the poor neglected child still more creditable to him.]

The whole character of Epictetus is sufficient to prove that he would only do what he considered most desirable and most exalted; and passages like these, the extreme asperity of which I have necessarily, softened down, are, I think, decisive in favour of the tradition which pronounces him to have been unmarried.