Tim. You speak, as usual, maliciously, and so as to leave an impression that you are habitually ill-treated by others. This, in most instances, is the true cause of the ill-humour and contempt exhibited by certain people towards their race.
Elean. Indeed, I cannot say that men have treated, or do treat me very well. If I could say so, I imagine I should be unique in my experience. But neither have they done me any serious harm, because in demanding nothing from men, and having nothing in common with them, I scarcely give them a chance of offending me. I must confess, however, that recognising clearly, as I do, how ignorant I am of the simplest means of making myself agreeable to others, both in conversation and the daily intercourse of life, whether from a natural defect or fault of my own, I should esteem men less if they treated me better.
Tim. Then you are so much the more to blame. For, had you even a mistaken ground of complaint, your hatred and desire for revenge against men would be in a measure justifiable. But your hatred, from what you say, is based on nothing in particular, except perhaps an extraordinary and wretched ambition of becoming famous as a misanthrope like Timon—a desire abominable in itself, and especially out of place in a century like the present, so peculiarly devoted to philanthropy.
Elean. I need not reply to your remark about ambition, because I have already said that I want nothing from men. Does that seem incredible to you? You will at least grant that it is not ambition which urges me to write books, such as on your own showing are more likely to bring me reproaches than glory. Besides, I am so far from hating the human race, that I neither can nor wish to hate even those who particularly offend me. Indeed, the fact that hatred is so completely foreign to me, goes far to explain my inability to do as other men do. But I cannot change this, because I always think that whenever a man displeases or injures another, he does so in the hope of procuring some pleasure or advantage for himself. His aim is not to injure others (which can never be the motive of any action, nor the object of any thought), but to benefit himself,—a natural desire, and undeserving of odium. Again, whenever I notice a particular vice or fault in my neighbour, I carefully examine myself, and as far as circumstances will allow, I put myself in his place. Thereupon I invariably find that I should have done the same as he, and been guilty of the same faults. Consequently my mind loses what irritation it previously felt. I reserve my wrath for occasions when I might see some wickedness of which my nature is incapable; but so far I have never met with such a case. Finally, the thought of the vanity of human things is so constantly in my mind that I am unable to excite myself about any one of them. Hatred and anger seem to me great and strong passions, out of harmony with the insignificance of life. Thus you see there is a great difference between Timon and myself. Timon hated and shunned all men except Alcibiades, for whom he reserved all his affection, because he saw in him the initiator of innumerable evils for their common country. I, on the other hand, without hating Alcibiades, would have especially avoided him. I would have warned my fellow-citizens of their danger, exhorting them at the same time to take the requisite steps to preserve themselves from it. Some say that Timon did not hate men, but beasts in the likeness of men. As for me, I neither hate men nor beasts.
Tim. Nor do you love any one.
Mean. Listen, my friend. I am born to love. I have loved; and perhaps with as deep a passion as is possible for human soul to feel. To-day, although, as you see, I am not sufficiently old to be naturally devoid of passion, nor even of a lukewarm age, I am not ashamed to say that I love no one except myself, by the necessity of nature, and that as little as possible. Nevertheless, I would always rather bear suffering myself than be the cause of it to others. I believe you can bear witness to the truth of this, little as you know about my habits.
Tim. I do not deny it.
Mean. I try to procure for men, even at my own expense, that greatest possible good, which alone I seek for myself, viz., a state of freedom from suffering.
Tim. But do you distinctly confess that you do not love the human race in general?