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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:55 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:55 -0700 |
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diff --git a/10661-h/10661-h.htm b/10661-h/10661-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c67411 --- /dev/null +++ b/10661-h/10661-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5598 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Selection from the +Discourses of Epictetus With the Encheiridion, Translated by George +Long</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10661 ***</div> + +<h1>A SELECTION FROM THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS WITH THE ENCHEIRIDION</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">TRANSLATED BY GEORGE LONG</h2> + +<hr/> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">EPICTETUS (BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE).</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">A SELECTION FROM THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">THE ENCHEIRIDION, OR MANUAL.</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr/> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>EPICTETUS.</h2> + +<p> +Very little is known of the life of Epictetus. It is said that he was a native +of Hierapolis in Phrygia, a town between the Maeander and a branch of the +Maeander named the Lycus. Hierapolis is mentioned in the epistle of Paul to the +people of Colossae (Coloss. iv., 13); from which it has been concluded that +there was a Christian church in Hierapolis in the time of the apostle. The date +of the birth of Epictetus is unknown. The only recorded fact of his early life +is that he was a slave in Rome, and his master was Epaphroditus, a profligate +freedman of the Emperor Nero. There is a story that the master broke his +slave’s leg by torturing him; but it is better to trust to the evidence of +Simplicius, the commentator on the Encheiridion, or Manual, who says that +Epictetus was weak in body and lame from an early age. It is not said how he +became a slave; but it has been asserted in modern times that the parents sold +the child. I have not, however, found any authority for this statement. +</p> + +<p> +It may be supposed that the young slave showed intelligence, for his master +sent or permitted him to attend the lectures of C. Musonius Rufus, an eminent +Stoic philosopher. It may seem strange that such a master should have wished to +have his slave made into a philosopher; but Garnier, the author of a “Mémoire +sur les Ouvrages d’Epictète,” explains this matter very well in a communication +to Schweighaeuser. Garnier says: “Epictetus, born at Hierapolis of Phrygia of +poor parents, was indebted apparently for the advantages of a good education to +the whim, which was common at the end of the Republic and under the first +emperors, among the great of Rome to reckon among their numerous slaves +grammarians, poets, rhetoricians, and philosophers, in the same way as rich +financiers in these later ages have been led to form at a great cost rich and +numerous libraries. This supposition is the only one which can explain to us +how a wretched child, born as poor as Irus, had received a good education, and +how a rigid Stoic was the slave of Epaphroditus, one of the officers of the +imperial guard. For we cannot suspect that it was through predilection for the +Stoic doctrine, and for his own use, that the confidant and the minister of the +debaucheries of Nero would have desired to possess such a slave.” +</p> + +<p> +Some writers assume that Epictetus was manumitted by his master, but I can find +no evidence for this statement. Epaphroditus accompanied Nero when he fled from +Rome before his enemies, and he aided the miserable tyrant in killing himself. +Domitian (Sueton., Domit. 14), afterwards put Epaphroditus to death for this +service to Nero. We may conclude that Epictetus in some way obtained his +freedom, and that he began to teach at Rome; but after the expulsion of the +philosophers from Rome by Domitian, A.D. 89, he retired to Nicopolis in Epirus, +a city built by Augustus to commemorate the victory at Actium. Epictetus opened +a school or lecture room at Nicopolis, where he taught till he was an old man. +The time of his death is unknown. Epictetus was never married, as we learn from +Lucian (Demonax, c. 55, torn, ii., ed. Hemsterh., p. 393). When Epictetus was +finding fault with Demonax, and advising him to take a wife and beget children, +for this also, as Epictetus said, was a philosopher’s duty, to leave in place +of himself another in the universe, Demonax refuted the doctrine by answering: +Give me then, Epictetus, one of your own daughters. Simplicius says (Comment., +c. 46, p. 432, ed. Schweigh.) that Epictetus lived alone a long time. At last +he took a woman into his house as a nurse for a child, which one of Epictetus’ +friends was going to expose on account of his poverty, but Epictetus took the +child and brought it up. +</p> + +<p> +Epictetus wrote nothing; and all that we have under his name was written +</p> + +<p> +Photius (Biblioth., 58) mentions among Arrian’s works “Conversations with +Epictetus,” [Greek: Homiliai Epichtaeton], in twelve books. Upton thinks that +this work is only another name for the Discourses, and that Photius has made +the mistake of taking the Conversations to be a different work from the +Discourses. Yet Photius has enumerated eight books of the Discourses and twelve +books of the Conversations. Schweighaeuser observes that Photius had not seen +these works of Arrian on Epictetus, for so he concludes from the brief notice +of these works by Photius. The fact is that Photius does not say that he had +read these books, as he generally does when he is speaking of the books which +he enumerates in his Bibliotheca. The conclusion is that we are not certain +that there was a work of Arrian entitled “The Conversations of Epictetus.” +</p> + +<p> +Upton remarks in a note on iii., 23 (p. 184, Trans.), that “there are many +passages in these dissertations which are ambiguous or rather confused on +account of the small questions, and because the matter is not expanded by +oratorical copiousness, not to mention other causes.” The discourses of +Epictetus, it is supposed, were spoken extempore, and so one thing after +another would come into the thoughts of the speaker (Wolf). Schweighaeuser also +observes in a note (ii., 336 of his edition) that the connection of the +discourse is sometimes obscure through the omission of some words which are +necessary to indicate the connection of the thoughts. The reader then will find +that he cannot always understand Epictetus, if he does not read him very +carefully, and some passages more than once. He must also think and reflect, or +he will miss the meaning. I do not say that the book is worth all this trouble. +Every man must judge for himself. But I should not have translated the book, if +I had not thought it worth study; and I think that all books of this kind +require careful reading, if they are worth reading at all. +</p> + +<p> +G.L. +</p> + +<hr/> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>A SELECTION FROM THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS.</h2> + +<p> +OF THE THINGS WHICH ARE IN OUR POWER AND NOT IN OUR POWER.—Of all the faculties +(except that which I shall soon mention), you will find not one which is +capable of contemplating itself, and, consequently, not capable either of +approving or disapproving. How far does the grammatic art possess the +contemplating power? As far as forming a judgment about what is written and +spoken. And how far music? As far as judging about melody. Does either of them +then contemplate itself? By no means. But when you must write something to your +friend, grammar will tell you what words you should write; but whether you +should write or not, grammar will not tell you. And so it is with music as to +musical sounds; but whether you should sing at the present time and play on the +lute, or do neither, music will not tell you. What faculty then will tell you? +That which contemplates both itself and all other things. And what is this +faculty? The rational faculty; for this is the only faculty that we have +received which examines itself, what it is, and what power it has, and what is +the value of this gift, and examines all other faculties: for what else is +there which tells us that golden things are beautiful, for they do not say so +themselves? Evidently it is the faculty which is capable of judging of +appearances. What else judges of music, grammar, and the other faculties, +proves their uses, and points out the occasions for using them? Nothing else. +</p> + +<p> +What then should a man have in readiness in such circumstances? What else than +this? What is mine, and what is not mine; and what is permitted to me, and what +is not permitted to me. I must die. Must I then die lamenting? I must be put in +chains. Must I then also lament? I must go into exile. Does any man then hinder +me from going with smiles and cheerfulness and contentment? Tell me the secret +which you possess. I will not, for this is in my power. But I will put you in +chains. Man, what are you talking about? Me, in chains? You may fetter my leg, +but my will not even Zeus himself can overpower. I will throw you into prison. +My poor body, you mean. I will cut your head off. When then have I told you +that my head alone cannot be cut off? These are the things which philosophers +should meditate on, which they should write daily, in which they should +exercise themselves. +</p> + +<p> +What then did Agrippinus say? He said, “I am not a hindrance to myself.” When +it was reported to him that his trial was going on in the Senate, he said: “I +hope it may turn out well; but it is the fifth hour of the day”—this was the +time when he was used to exercise himself and then take the cold bath,—“let us +go and take our exercise.” After he had taken his exercise, one comes and tells +him, “You have been condemned.” “To banishment,” he replies, “or to death?” “To +banishment.” “What about my property?” “It is not taken from you.” “Let us go +to Aricia then,” he said, “and dine.” +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW A MAN ON EVERY OCCASION CAN MAINTAIN HIS PROPER CHARACTER.—To the rational +animal only is the irrational intolerable; but that which is rational is +tolerable. Blows are not naturally intolerable. How is that? See how the +Lacedaemonians endure whipping when they have learned that whipping is +consistent with reason. To hang yourself is not intolerable. When then you have +the opinion that it is rational, you go and hang yourself. In short, if we +observe, we shall find that the animal man is pained by nothing so much as by +that which is irrational; and, on the contrary, attracted to nothing so much as +to that which is rational. +</p> + +<p> +Only consider at what price you sell your own will: if for no other reason, at +least for this, that you sell it not for a small sum. But that which is great +and superior perhaps belongs to Socrates and such as are like him. Why then, if +we are naturally such, are not a very great number of us like him? Is it true +then that all horses become swift, that all dogs are skilled in tracking +footprints? What then, since I am naturally dull, shall I, for this reason, +take no pains? I hope not. Epictetus is not superior to Socrates; but if he is +not inferior, this is enough for me; for I shall never be a Milo, and yet I do +not neglect my body; nor shall I be a Croesus, and yet I do not neglect my +property; nor, in a word, do we neglect looking after anything because we +despair of reaching the highest degree. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW A MAN SHOULD PROCEED FROM THE PRINCIPLE OF GOD BEING THE FATHER OF ALL MEN +TO THE REST.—If a man should be able to assent to this doctrine as he ought, +that we are all sprung from God in an especial manner, and that God is the +father both of men and of gods, I suppose that he would never have any ignoble +or mean thoughts about himself. But if Cæsar (the emperor) should adopt you, no +one could endure your arrogance; and if you know that you are the son of Zeus, +will you not be elated? Yet we do not so; but since these two things are +mingled in the generation of man, body in common with the animals, and reason +and intelligence in common with the gods, many incline to this kinship, which +is miserable and mortal; and some few to that which is divine and happy. Since +then it is of necessity that every man uses everything according to the opinion +which he has about it, those, the few, who think that they are formed for +fidelity and modesty and a sure use of appearances have no mean or ignoble +thoughts about themselves; but with the many it is quite the contrary. For they +say, What am I? A poor, miserable man, with my wretched bit of flesh. Wretched, +indeed; but you possess something better than your bit of flesh. Why then do +you neglect that which is better, and why do you attach yourself to this? +</p> + +<p> +Through this kinship with the flesh, some of us inclining to it become like +wolves, faithless and treacherous and mischievous; some become like lions, +savage and bestial and untamed; but the greater part of us become foxes, and +other worse animals. For what else is a slanderer and malignant man than a fox, +or some other more wretched and meaner animal? See then and take care that you +do not become some one of these miserable things. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF PROGRESS OR IMPROVEMENT.—He who is making progress, having learned from +philosophers that desire means the desire of good things, and aversion means +aversion from bad things; having learned too that happiness and tranquillity +are not attainable by man otherwise than by not failing to obtain what he +desires, and not falling into that which he would avoid; such a man takes from +himself desire altogether and confers it, but he employs his aversion only on +things which are dependent on his will. For if he attempts to avoid anything +independent of his will, he knows that sometimes he will fall in with something +which he wishes to avoid, and he will be unhappy. Now if virtue promises good +fortune and tranquillity and happiness, certainly also the progress towards +virtue is progress towards each of these things. For it is always true that to +whatever point the perfecting of anything leads us, progress is an approach +towards this point. +</p> + +<p> +How then do we admit that virtue is such as I have said, and yet seek progress +in other things and make a display of it? What is the product of virtue? +Tranquillity. Who then makes improvement? Is it he who has read many books of +Chrysippus? But does virtue consist in having understood Chrysippus? If this is +so, progress is clearly nothing else than knowing a great deal of Chrysippus. +But now we admit that virtue produces one thing, and we declare that +approaching near to it is another thing, namely, progress or improvement. Such +a person, says one, is already able to read Chrysippus by himself. Indeed, sir, +you are making great progress. What kind of progress? But why do you mock the +man? Why do you draw him away from the perception of his own misfortunes? Will +you not show him the effect of virtue that he may learn where to look for +improvement? Seek it there, wretch, where your work lies. And where is your +work? In desire and in aversion, that you may not be disappointed in your +desire, and that you may not fall into that which you would avoid; in your +pursuit and avoiding, that you commit no error; in assent and suspension of +assent, that you be not deceived. The first things, and the most necessary are +those which I have named. But if with trembling and lamentation you seek not to +fall into that which you avoid, tell me how you are improving. +</p> + +<p> +Do you then show me your improvement in these things? If I were talking to an +athlete, I should say, Show me your shoulders; and then he might say, Here are +my Halteres. You and your Halteres look to that. I should reply, I wish to see +the effect of the Halteres. So, when you say: Take the treatise on the active +powers ([Greek: hormea]), and see how I have studied it, I reply: Slave, I am +not inquiring about this, but how you exercise pursuit and avoidance, desire +and aversion, how you design and purpose and prepare yourself, whether +conformably to nature or not. If conformably, give me evidence of it, and I +will say that you are making progress; but if not conformably, be gone, and not +only expound your books, but write such books yourself; and what will you gain +by it? Do you not know that the whole book costs only five denarii? Does then +the expounder seem to be worth more than five denarii? Never then look for the +matter itself in one place, and progress towards it in another. Where then is +progress? If any of you, withdrawing himself from externals, turns to his own +will ([Greek: proairesis]) to exercise it and to improve it by labor, so as to +make it conformable to nature, elevated, free, unrestrained, unimpeded, +faithful, modest; and if he has learned that he who desires or avoids the +things which are not in his power can neither be faithful nor free, but of +necessity he must change with them and be tossed about with them as in a +tempest, and of necessity must subject himself to others who have the power to +procure or prevent what lie desires or would avoid; finally, when he rises in +the morning, if he observes and keeps these rules, bathes as a man of fidelity, +eats as a modest man; in like manner, if in every matter that occurs he works +out his chief principles ([Greek: ta proaegoumena]) as the runner does with +reference to running, and the trainer of the voice with reference to the +voice—this is the man who truly makes progress, and this is the man who has not +travelled in vain. But if he has strained his efforts to the practice of +reading books, and labors only at this, and has travelled for this, I tell him +to return home immediately, and not to neglect his affairs there; for this for +which he has travelled is nothing. But the other thing is something, to study +how a man can rid his life of lamentation and groaning, and saying, Woe to me, +and wretched that I am, and to rid it also of misfortune and disappointment, +and to learn what death is, and exile, and prison, and poison, that he may be +able to say when he is in fetters, Dear Crito, if it is the will of the gods +that it be so, let it be so; and not to say, Wretched am I, an old man: have I +kept my gray hairs for this? Who is it that speaks thus? Do you think that I +shall name some man of no repute and of low condition? Does not Priam say this? +Does not Oedipus say this? Nay, all kings say it! For what else is tragedy than +the perturbations ([Greek: pathae]) of men who value externals exhibited in +this kind of poetry? But if a man must learn by fiction that no external things +which are independent of the will concern us, for my part I should like this +fiction, by the aid of which I should live happily and undisturbed. But you +must consider for yourselves what you wish. +</p> + +<p> +What then does Chrysippus teach us? The reply is, to know that these things are +not false, from which happiness comes and tranquillity arises. Take my books, +and you will learn how true and conformable to nature are the things which make +me free from perturbations. O great good fortune! O the great benefactor who +points out the way! To Triptolemus all men have erected temples and altars, +because he gave us food by cultivation; but to him who discovered truth and +brought it to light and communicated it to all, not the truth which shows us +how to live, but how to live well, who of you for this reason has built an +altar, or a temple, or has dedicated a statue, or who worships God for this? +Because the gods have given the vine, or wheat, we sacrifice to them; but +because they have produced in the human mind that fruit by which they designed +to show us the truth which relates to happiness, shall we not thank God for +this? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +AGAINST THE ACADEMICS.—If a man, said Epictetus, opposes evident truths, it is +not easy to find arguments by which we shall make him change his opinion. But +this does not arise either from the man’s strength or the teacher’s weakness; +for when the man, though he has been confuted, is hardened like a stone, how +shall we then be able to deal with him by argument? +</p> + +<p> +Now there are two kinds of hardening, one of the understanding, the other of +the sense of shame, when a man is resolved not to assent to what is manifest +nor to desist from contradictions. Most of us are afraid of mortification of +the body, and would contrive all means to avoid such a thing, but we care not +about the soul’s mortification. And indeed with regard to the soul, if a man be +in such a state as not to apprehend anything, or understand at all, we think +that he is in a bad condition; but if the sense of shame and modesty are +deadened, this we call even power (or strength). +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF PROVIDENCE.—From everything, which is or happens in the world, it is easy to +praise Providence, if a man possesses these two qualities: the faculty of +seeing what belongs and happens to all persons and things, and a grateful +disposition. If he does not possess these two qualities, one man will not see +the use of things which are and which happen: another will not be thankful for +them, even if he does know them. If God had made colors, but had not made the +faculty of seeing them, what would have been their use? None at all. On the +other hand, if he had made the faculty of vision, but had not made objects such +as to fall under the faculty, what in that case also would have been the use of +it? None at all. Well, suppose that he had made both, but had not made light? +In that case, also, they would have been of no use. Who is it then who has +fitted this to that and that to this? +</p> + +<p> +What, then, are these things done in us only? Many, indeed, in us only, of +which the rational animal had peculiar need; but you will find many common to +us with irrational animals. Do they then understand what is done? By no means. +For use is one thing, and understanding is another; God had need of irrational +animals to make use of appearances, but of us to understand the use of +appearances. It is therefore enough for them to eat and to drink, and to +copulate, and to do all the other things which they severally do. But for us, +to whom he has given also the intellectual faculty, these things are not +sufficient; for unless we act in a proper and orderly manner, and conformably +to the nature and constitution of each thing, we shall never attain our true +end. For where the constitutions of living beings are different, there also the +acts and the ends are different. In those animals then whose constitution is +adapted only to use, use alone is enough; but in an animal (man), which has +also the power of understanding the use, unless there be the due exercise of +the understanding, he will never attain his proper end. Well then God +constitutes every animal, one to be eaten, another to serve for agriculture, +another to supply cheese, and another for some like use; for which purposes +what need is there to understand appearances and to be able to distinguish +them? But God has introduced man to be a spectator of God and of his works; and +not only a spectator of them, but an interpreter. For this reason it is +shameful for man to begin and to end where irrational animals do; but rather he +ought to begin where they begin, and to end where nature ends in us; and nature +ends in contemplation and understanding, and in a way of life conformable to +nature. Take care then not to die without having been spectators of these +things. +</p> + +<p> +But you take a journey to Olympia to see the work of Phidias, and all of you +think it a misfortune to die without having seen such things. But when there is +no need to take a journey, and where a man is, there he has the works (of God) +before him, will you not desire to see and understand them? Will you not +perceive either what you are, or what you were born for, or what this is for +which you have received the faculty of sight? But you may say, There are some +things disagreeable and troublesome in life. And are there none at Olympia? Are +you not scorched? Are you not pressed by a crowd? Are you not without +comfortable means of bathing? Are you not wet when it rains? Have you not +abundance of noise, clamor, and other disagreeable things? But I suppose that +setting all these things off against the magnificence of the spectacle, you +bear and endure. Well then and have you not received faculties by which you +will be able to bear all that happens? Have you not received greatness of soul? +Have you not received manliness? Have you not received endurance? And why do I +trouble myself about anything that can happen if I possess greatness of soul? +What shall distract my mind, or disturb me, or appear painful? Shall I not use +the power for the purposes for which I received it, and shall I grieve and +lament over what happens? +</p> + +<p> +Come, then, do you also having observed these things look to the faculties +which you have, and when you have looked at them, say: Bring now, O Zeus, any +difficulty that thou pleasest, for I have means given to me by thee and powers +for honoring myself through the things which happen. You do not so; but you sit +still, trembling for fear that some things will happen, and weeping, and +lamenting, and groaning for what does happen; and then you blame the gods. For +what is the consequence of such meanness of spirit but impiety? And yet God has +not only given us these faculties, by which we shall be able to bear everything +that happens without being depressed or broken by it; but, like a good king and +a true father, He has given us these faculties free from hindrance, subject to +no compulsion, unimpeded, and has put them entirely in our own power, without +even having reserved to Himself any power of hindering or impeding. You, who +have received these powers free and as your own, use them not; you do not even +see what you have received, and from whom; some of you being blinded to the +giver, and not even acknowledging your benefactor, and others, through meanness +of spirit, betaking yourselves to fault-finding and making charges against God. +Yet I will show to you that you have powers and means for greatness of soul and +manliness; but what powers you have for finding fault making accusations, do +you show me. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW FROM THE FACT THAT WE ARE AKIN TO GOD A MAN MAY PROCEED TO THE +CONSEQUENCES.—I indeed think that the old man ought to be sitting here, not to +contrive how you may have no mean thoughts nor mean and ignoble talk about +yourselves, but to take care that there be not among us any young men of such a +mind, that when they have recognized their kinship to God, and that we are +fettered by these bonds, the body, I mean, and its possessions, and whatever +else on account of them is necessary to us for the economy and commerce of +life, they should intend to throw off these things as if they were burdens +painful and intolerable, and to depart to their kinsmen. But this is the labor +that your teacher and instructor ought to be employed upon, if he really were +what he should be. You should come to him and say: Epictetus, we can no longer +endure being bound to this poor body, and feeding it, and giving it drink and +rest, and cleaning it, and for the sake of the body complying with the wishes +of these and of those. Are not these things indifferent and nothing to us; and +is not death no evil? And are we not in a manner kinsmen of God, and did we not +come from him? Allow us to depart to the place from which we came; allow us to +be released at last from these bonds by which we are bound and weighed down. +Here there are robbers and thieves and courts of justice, and those who are +named tyrants, and think that they have some power over us by means of the body +and its possessions. Permit us to show them that they have no power over any +man. And I on my part would say: Friends, wait for God: when he shall give the +signal and release you from this service, then go to him; but for the present +endure to dwell in this place where he has put you. Short indeed is this time +of your dwelling here, and easy to bear for those who are so disposed; for what +tyrant, or what thief, or what courts of justice are formidable to those who +have thus considered as things of no value the body and the possessions of the +body? Wait then, do not depart without a reason. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF CONTENTMENT.—With respect to gods, there are some who say that a divine +being does not exist; others say that it exists, but is inactive and careless, +and takes no forethought about anything; a third class say that such a being +exists and exercises forethought, but only about great things and heavenly +things, and about nothing on the earth; a fourth class say that a divine being +exercises forethought both about things on the earth and heavenly things, but +in a general way only, and not about things severally. There is a fifth class +to whom Ulysses and Socrates belong, who say: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +I move not without thy knowledge.—Iliad, x., 278. +</p> + +<p> +Before all other things then it is necessary to inquire about each of these +opinions, whether it is affirmed truly or not truly. For if there are no gods, +how is it our proper end to follow them? And if they exist, but take no care of +anything, in this case also how will it be right to follow them? But if indeed +they do exist and look after things, still if there is nothing communicated +from them to men, nor in fact to myself, how even so is it right (to follow +them)? The wise and good man then, after considering all these things, submits +his own mind to him who administers the whole, as good citizens do to the law +of the state. He who is receiving instruction ought to come to be instructed +with this intention, How shall I follow the gods in all things, how shall I be +contented with the divine administration, and how can I become free? For he is +free to whom everything happens according to his will, and whom no man can +hinder. What then, is freedom madness? Certainly not; for madness and freedom +do not consist. But, you say, I would have everything result just as I like, +and in whatever way I like. You are mad, you are beside yourself. Do you not +know that freedom is a noble and valuable thing? But for me inconsiderately to +wish for things to happen as I inconsiderately like, this appears to be not +only not noble, but even most base. For how do we proceed in the matter of +writing? Do I wish to write the name of Dion as I choose? No, but I am taught +to choose to write it as it ought to be written. And how with respect to music? +In the same manner. And what universally in every art or science? Just the +same. If it were not so, it would be of no value to know anything, if knowledge +were adapted to every man’s whim. Is it then in this alone, in this which is +the greatest and the chief thing, I mean freedom, that I am permitted to will +inconsiderately? By no means; but to be instructed is this, to learn to wish +that everything may happen as it does. And how do things happen? As the +disposer has disposed them? And he has appointed summer and winter, and +abundance and scarcity, and virtue and vice, and all such opposites for the +harmony of the whole; and to each of us he has given a body, and parts of the +body, and possessions, and companions. +</p> + +<p> +What then remains, or what method is discovered of holding commerce with them? +Is there such a method by which they shall do what seems fit to them, and we +not the less shall be in a mood which is conformable to nature? But you are +unwilling to endure, and are discontented; and if you are alone, you call it +solitude; and if you are with men, you call them knaves and robbers; and you +find fault with your own parents and children, and brothers and neighbors. But +you ought when you are alone to call this condition by the name of tranquillity +and freedom, and to think yourself like to the gods; and when you are with +many, you ought not to call it crowd, nor trouble, nor uneasiness, but festival +and assembly, and so accept all contentedly. +</p> + +<p> +What then is the punishment of those who do not accept? It is to be what they +are. Is any person dissatisfied with being alone? Let him be alone. Is a man +dissatisfied with his parents? Let him be a bad son, and lament. Is he +dissatisfied with his children? Let him be a bad father. Cast him into prison. +What prison? Where he is already, for he is there against his will; and where a +man is against his will, there he is in prison. So Socrates was not in prison, +for he was there willingly. Must my leg then be lamed? Wretch, do you then on +account of one poor leg find fault with the world? Will you not willingly +surrender it for the whole? Will you not withdraw from it? Will you not gladly +part with it to him who gave it? And will you be vexed and discontented with +the things established by Zeus, which he, with the Moirae (fates) who were +present and spinning the thread of your generation, defined and put in order? +Know you not how small a part you are compared with the whole. I mean with +respect to the body, for as to intelligence you are not inferior to the gods +nor less; for the magnitude of intelligence is not measured by length nor yet +by height, but by thoughts. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW EVERYTHING MAY BE DONE ACCEPTABLY TO THE GODS.—When some one asked, How may +a man eat acceptably to the gods, he answered: If he can eat justly and +contentedly, and with equanimity, and temperately, and orderly, will it not be +also acceptable to the gods? But when you have asked for warm water and the +slave has not heard, or if he did hear has brought only tepid water, or he is +not even found to be in the house, then not to be vexed or to burst with +passion, is not this acceptable to the gods? How then shall a man endure such +persons as this slave? Slave yourself, will you not bear with your own brother, +who has Zeus for his progenitor, and is like a son from the same seeds and of +the same descent from above? But if you have been put in any such higher place, +will you immediately make yourself a tyrant? Will you not remember who you are, +and whom you rule? That they are kinsmen, that they are brethren by nature, +that they are the offspring of Zeus? But I have purchased them, and they have +not purchased me. Do you see in what direction you are looking, that it is +towards the earth, towards the pit, that it is towards these wretched laws of +dead men? but towards the laws of the gods you are not looking. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +WHAT PHILOSOPHY PROMISES.—When a man was consulting him how he should persuade +his brother to cease being angry with him, Epictetus replied: Philosophy does +not propose to secure for a man any external thing. If it did (or if it were +not, as I say), philosophy would be allowing something which is not within its +province. For as the carpenter’s material is wood, and that of the statuary is +copper, so the matter of the art of living is each man’s life. When then is my +brother’s? That again belongs to his own art; but with respect to yours, it is +one of the external things, like a piece of land, like health, like reputation. +But Philosophy promises none of these. In every circumstance I will maintain, +she says, the governing part conformable to nature. Whose governing part? His +in whom I am, she says. +</p> + +<p> +How then shall my brother cease to be angry with me? Bring him to me and I will +tell him. But I have nothing to say to you about his anger. +</p> + +<p> +When the man who was consulting him said, I seek to know this, How, even if my +brother is not reconciled to me, shall I maintain myself in a state conformable +to nature? Nothing great, said Epictetus, is produced suddenly, since not even +the grape or the fig is. If you say to me now that you want a fig, I will +answer to you that it requires time: let it flower first, then put forth fruit, +and then ripen. Is then the fruit of a fig-tree not perfected suddenly and in +one hour, and would you possess the fruit of a man’s mind in so short a time +and so easily? Do not expect it, even if I tell you. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO BE ANGRY WITH THE ERRORS (FAULTS) OF OTHERS.—Ought not +then this robber and this adulterer to be destroyed? By no means say so, but +speak rather in this way: This man who has been mistaken and deceived about the +most important things, and blinded, not in the faculty of vision which +distinguishes white and black, but in the faculty which distinguishes good and +bad, should we not destroy him? If you speak thus you will see how inhuman this +is which you say, and that it is just as if you would say, Ought we not to +destroy this blind and deaf man? But if the greatest harm is the privation of +the greatest things, and the greatest thing in every man is the will or choice +such as it ought to be, and a man is deprived of this will, why are you also +angry with him? Man, you ought not to be affected contrary to nature by the bad +things of another. Pity him rather; drop this readiness to be offended and to +hate, and these words which the many utter: “These accursed and odious +fellows.” How have you been made so wise at once? and how are you so peevish? +Why then are we angry? Is it because we value so much the things of which these +men rob us? Do not admire your clothes, and then you will not be angry with the +thief. Consider this matter thus: you have fine clothes; your neighbor has not; +you have a window; you wish to air the clothes. The thief does not know wherein +man’s good consists, but he thinks that it consist in having fine clothes, the +very thing which you also think. Must he not then come and take them away? When +you show a cake to greedy persons, and swallow it all yourself, do you expect +them not to snatch it from you? Do not provoke them; do not have a window; do +not air your clothes. I also lately had an iron lamp placed by the side of my +household gods; hearing a noise at the door, I ran down, and found that the +lamp had been carried off. I reflected that he who had taken the lamp had done +nothing strange. What then? To-morrow, I said, you will find an earthen lamp; +for a man only loses that which he has. I have lost my garment. The reason is +that you had a garment. I have a pain in my head. Have you any pain in your +horns? Why then are you troubled? For we only lose those things, we have only +pains about those things, which we possess. +</p> + +<p> +But the tyrant will chain—what? The leg. He will take away—what? The neck. What +then will he not chain and not take away? The will. This is why the ancients +taught the maxim, Know thyself. Therefore we ought to exercise ourselves in +small things, and beginning with them to proceed to the greater. I have pain in +the head. Do not say, Alas! I have pain in the ear. Do not say alas! And I do +not say that you are not allowed to groan, but do not groan inwardly; and if +your slave is slow in bringing a bandage, do not cry out and torment yourself, +and say, Every body hates me; for who would not hate such a man? For the +future, relying on these opinions, walk about upright, free; not trusting to +the size of your body, as an athlete, for a man ought not to be invincible in +the way that an ass is. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE SHOULD BEHAVE TO TYRANTS.—If a man possesses any superiority, or thinks +that he does when he does not, such a man, if he is uninstructed, will of +necessity be puffed up through it. For instance, the tyrant says, I am master +of all! And what can you do for me? Can you give me desire which shall have no +hindrance? How can you? Have you the infallible power of avoiding what you +would avoid? Have you the power of moving towards an object without error? And +how do you possess this power? Come, when you are in a ship, do you trust to +yourself or to the helmsman? And when you are in a chariot, to whom do you +trust but to the driver? And how is it in all other arts? Just the same. In +what, then, lies your power? All men pay respect to me. Well, I also pay +respect to my platter, and I wash it and wipe it; and for the sake of my +oil-flask, I drive a peg into the wall. Well, then, are these things superior +to me? No, but they supply some of my wants, and for this reason I take care of +them. Well, do I not attend to my ass? Do I not wash his feet? Do I not clean +him? Do you not know that every man has regard to himself, and to you just the +same as he has regard to his ass? For who has regard to you as a man? Show me. +Who wishes to become like you? Who imitates you, as he imitates Socrates? But I +can cut off your head. You say right. I had forgotten that I must have regard +to you, as I would to a fever and the bile, and raise an altar to you, as there +is at Rome an altar to fever. +</p> + +<p> +What is it then that disturbs and terrifies the multitude? Is it the tyrant and +his guards? (By no means.) I hope that it is not so. It is not possible that +what is by nature free can be disturbed by anything else, or hindered by any +other thing than by itself. But it is a man’s own opinions which disturb him. +For when the tyrant says to a man, I will chain your leg, he who values his leg +says, Do not; have pity. But he who values his own will says, If it appears +more advantageous to you, chain it. Do you not care? I do not care. I will show +you that I am master. You cannot do that. Zeus has set me free; do you think +that he intended to allow his own son to be enslaved? But you are master of my +carcase; take it. So when you approach me, you have no regard to me? No, but I +have regard to myself; and if you wish me to say that I have regard to you +also, I tell you that I have the same regard to you that I have to my pipkin. +</p> + +<p> +What then? When absurd notions about things independent of our will, as if they +were good and (or) bad, lie at the bottom of our opinions, we must of necessity +pay regard to tyrants: for I wish that men would pay regard to tyrants only, +and not also to the bedchamber men. How is it that the man becomes all at once +wise, when Cæsar has made him superintendent of the close stool? How is it that +we say immediately, Felicion spoke sensibly to me? I wish he were ejected from +the bedchamber, that he might again appear to you to be a fool. +</p> + +<p> +Has a man been exalted to the tribuneship? All who meet him offer their +congratulations; one kisses his eyes, another the neck, and the slaves kiss his +hands. He goes to his house, he finds torches lighted. He ascends the Capitol; +he offers a sacrifice on the occasion. Now who ever sacrificed for having had +good desires? for having acted conformably to nature? For in fact we thank the +gods for those things in which we place our good. +</p> + +<p> +A person was talking to me to-day about the priesthood of Augustus. I say to +him: Man, let the thing alone; you will spend much for no purpose. But he +replies, Those who draw up agreements will write my name. Do you then stand by +those who read them, and say to such persons, It is I whose name is written +there? And if you can now be present on ail such occasions, what will you do +when you are dead? My name will remain. Write it on a stone, and it will +remain. But come, what remembrance of you will there be beyond Nicopolis? But I +shall wear a crown of gold. If you desire a crown at all, take a crown of roses +and put it on, for it will be more elegant in appearance. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +AGAINST THOSE WHO WISH TO BE ADMIRED.—When a man holds his proper station in +life, he does not gape after things beyond it. Man, what do you wish to happen +to you? I am satisfied if I desire and avoid conformably to nature, if I employ +movements towards and from an object as I am by nature formed to do, and +purpose and design and assent. Why then do you strut before us as if you had +swallowed a spit? My wish has always been that those who meet me should admire +me, and those who follow me should exclaim, O the great philosopher! Who are +they by whom you wish to be admired? Are they not those of whom you are used to +say that they are mad? Well, then, do you wish to be admired by madmen? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON PRÆCOGNITIONS.—Præcognitions are common to all men, and præcognition is not +contradictory to præcognition. For who of us does not assume that Good is +useful and eligible, and in all circumstances that we ought to follow and +pursue it? And who of us does not assume that Justice is beautiful and +becoming? When then does the contradiction arise? It arises in the adaptation +of the præcognitions to the particular cases. When one man says, “He has done +well; he is a brave man,” and another says, “Not so; but he has acted +foolishly,” then the disputes arise among men. This is the dispute among the +Jews and the Syrians and the Egyptians and the Romans; not whether holiness +should be preferred to all things and in all cases should be pursued, but +whether it is holy to eat pig’s flesh or not holy. You will find this dispute +also between Agamemnon and Achilles; for call them forth. What do you say, +Agamemnon? ought not that to be done which is proper and right? “Certainly.” +Well, what do you say, Achilles? do you not admit that what is good ought to be +done? “I do most certainly.” Adapt your præcognitions then to the present +matter. Here the dispute begins. Agamemnon says, “I ought not to give up +Chryseis to her father.” Achilles says, “You ought.” It is certain that one of +the two makes a wrong adaptation of the præcognition of “ought” or “duty.” +Further, Agamemnon says, “Then if I ought to restore Chryseis, it is fit that I +take his prize from some of you.” Achilles replies, “Would you then take her +whom I love?” “Yes, her whom you love.” “Must I then be the only man who goes +without a prize? and must I be the only man who has no prize?” Thus the dispute +begins. +</p> + +<p> +What then is education? Education is the learning how to adapt the natural +præcognitions to the particular things conformably to nature; and then to +distinguish that of things some are in our power, but others are not. In our +power are will and all acts which depend on the will; things not in our power +are the body, the parts of the body, possessions, parents, brothers, children, +country, and, generally, all with whom we live in society. In what then should +we place the good? To what kind of things ([Greek: ousia]) shall we adapt it? +To the things which are in our power? Is not health then a good thing, and +soundness of limb, and life, and are not children and parents and country? Who +will tolerate you if you deny this? +</p> + +<p> +Let us then transfer the notion of good to these things. Is it possible, then, +when a man sustains damage and does not obtain good things, that he can be +happy? It is not possible. And can he maintain towards society a proper +behavior? He can not. For I am naturally formed to look after my own interest. +If it is my interest to have an estate in land, it is my interest also to take +it from my neighbor. If it is my interest to have a garment, it is my interest +also to steal it from the bath. This is the origin of wars, civil commotions, +tyrannies, conspiracies. And how shall I be still able to maintain my duty +towards Zeus? For if I sustain damage and am unlucky, he takes no care of me. +And what is he to me if he cannot help me? And further, what is he to me if he +allows me to be in the condition in which I am? I now begin to hate him. Why +then do we build temples, why setup statues to Zeus, as well as to evil demons, +such as to Fever; and how is Zeus the Saviour, and how the giver of rain, and +the giver of fruits? And in truth if we place the nature of Good in any such +things, all this follows. +</p> + +<p> +What should we do then? This is the inquiry of the true philosopher who is in +labor. Now I do not see what the good is nor the bad. Am I not mad? Yes. But +suppose that I place the good somewhere among the things which depend on the +will; all will laugh at me. There will come some greyhead wearing many gold +rings on his fingers, and he will shake his head and say: “Hear, my child. It +is right that you should philosophize; but you ought to have some brains also; +all this that you are doing is silly. You learn the syllogism from +philosophers; but you know how to act better than philosophers do.” Man why +then do you blame me, if I know? What shall I say to this slave? If I am +silent, he will burst. I must speak in this way: “Excuse me, as you would +excuse lovers; I am not my own master; I am mad.” +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE SHOULD STRUGGLE WITH CIRCUMSTANCES.—It is circumstances (difficulties) +which show what men are. Therefore when a difficulty falls upon you, remember +that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched you with a rough young man. +For what purpose? you may say. Why, that you may become an Olympic conqueror; +but it is not accomplished without sweat. In my opinion no man has had a more +profitable difficulty than you have had, if you choose to make use of it as an +athlete would deal with a young antagonist. We are now sending a scout to Rome; +but no man sends a cowardly scout, who, if he only hears a noise and sees a +shadow anywhere, comes running back in terror and reports that the enemy is +close at hand. So now if you should come and tell us: “Fearful is the state of +affairs at Rome; terrible is death; terrible is exile; terrible is calumny; +terrible is poverty; fly, my friends, the enemy is near,” we shall answer: +“Begone, prophesy for yourself; we have committed only one fault, that we sent +such a scout.” +</p> + +<p> +Diogenes, who was sent as a scout before you, made a different report to us. He +says that death is no evil, for neither is it base; he says that fame +(reputation) is the noise of madmen. And what has this spy said about pain, +about pleasure, and about poverty? He says that to be naked is better than any +purple robe, and to sleep on the bare ground is the softest bed; and he gives +as a proof of each thing that he affirms his own courage, his tranquillity, his +freedom, and the healthy appearance and compactness of his body. There is no +enemy near, he says; all is peace. How so, Diogenes? “See,” he replies, “if I +am struck, if I have been wounded, if I have fled from any man.” This is what a +scout ought to be. But you come to us and tell us one thing after another. Will +you not go back, and you will see clearer when you have laid aside fear? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON THE SAME.—If these things are true, and if we are not silly, and are not +acting hypocritically when we say that the good of man is in the will, and the +evil too, and that everything else does not concern us, why are we still +disturbed, why are we still afraid? The things about which we have been busied +are in no man’s power; and the things which are in the power of others, we care +not for. What kind of trouble have we still? +</p> + +<p> +But give me directions. Why should I give you directions? Has not Zeus given +you directions? Has he not given to you what is your own free from hindrance +and free from impediment, and what is not your own subject to hindrance and +impediment? What directions then, what kind of orders did you bring when you +came from him? Keep by every means what is your own; do not desire what belongs +to others. Fidelity (integrity) is your own, virtuous shame is your own; who +then can take these things from you? who else than yourself will hinder you +from using them? But how do you act? When you seek what is not your own, you +lose that which is your own. Having such promptings and commands from Zeus, +what kind do you still ask from me? Am I more powerful than he, am I more +worthy of confidence? But if you observe these, do you want any others besides? +“Well, but he has not given these orders,” you will say. Produce your +præcognitions ([Greek: prolaepseis]), produce these proofs of philosophers, +produce what you have often heard, and produce what you have said yourself, +produce what you have read, produce what you have meditated on; and you will +then see that all these things are from God. +</p> + +<p> +If I have set my admiration on the poor body, I have given myself up to be a +slave; if on my poor possessions, I also make myself a slave. For I immediately +make it plain with what I may be caught; as if the snake draws in his head, I +tell you to strike that part of him which he guards; and do you be assured that +whatever part you choose to guard, that part your master will attack. +Remembering this, whom will you still flatter or fear? +</p> + +<p> +But I should like to sit where the Senators sit. Do you see that you are +putting yourself in straits, you are squeezing yourself? How then shall I see +well in any other way in the amphitheatre? Man, do not be a spectator at all, +and you will not be squeezed. Why do you give yourself trouble? Or wait a +little, and when the spectacle is over, seat yourself in the place reserved for +the Senators and sun yourself. For remember this general truth, that it is we +who squeeze ourselves, who put ourselves in straits; that is, our opinions +squeeze us and put us in straits. For what is it to be reviled? Stand by a +stone and revile it, and what will you gain? If then a man listens like a +stone, what profit is there to the reviler? But if the reviler has as a +stepping-stone (or ladder) the weakness of him who is reviled, then he +accomplishes something. Strip him. What do you mean by him? Lay hold of his +garment, strip it off. I have insulted you. Much good may it do you. +</p> + +<p> +This was the practice of Socrates; this was the reason why he always had one +face. But we choose to practise and study anything rather than the means by +which we shall be unimpeded and free. You say: “Philosophers talk paradoxes.” +But are there no paradoxes in the other arts? And what is more paradoxical than +to puncture a man’s eye in order that he may see? If any one said this to a man +ignorant of the surgical art, would he not ridicule the speaker? Where is the +wonder, then, if in philosophy also many things which are true appear +paradoxical to the inexperienced? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +IN HOW MANY WAYS APPEARANCES EXIST, AND WHAT AIDS WE SHOULD PROVIDE AGAINST +THEM.—Appearances are to us in four ways. For either things appear as they are; +or they are not, and do not even appear to be; or they are, and do not appear +to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Further, in all these cases to +form a right judgment (to hit the mark) is the office of an educated man. But +whatever it is that annoys (troubles) us, to that we ought to apply a remedy. +If the sophisms of Pyrrho and of the Academics are what annoys (troubles), we +must apply the remedy to them. If it is the persuasion of appearances, by which +some things appear to be good, when they are not good, let us seek a remedy for +this. If it is habit which annoys us, we must try to seek aid against habit. +What aid, then, can we find against habit? The contrary habit. You hear the +ignorant say: “That unfortunate person is dead; his father and mother are +overpowered with sorrow; he was cut off by an untimely death and in a foreign +land.” Hear the contrary way of speaking. Tear yourself from these expressions; +oppose to one habit the contrary habit; to sophistry oppose reason, and the +exercise and discipline of reason; against persuasive (deceitful) appearances +we ought to have manifest præcognitions ([Greek: prolaepseis]), cleared of all +impurities and ready to hand. +</p> + +<p> +When death appears an evil, we ought to have this rule in readiness, that it is +fit to avoid evil things, and that death is a necessary thing. For what shall I +do, and where shall I escape it? Suppose that I am not Sarpedon, the son of +Zeus, nor able to speak in this noble way. I will go and I am resolved either +to behave bravely myself or to give to another the opportunity of doing so; if +I cannot succeed in doing anything myself, I will not grudge another the doing +of something noble. Suppose that it is above our power to act thus; is it not +in our power to reason thus? Tell me where I can escape death; discover for me +the country, show me the men to whom I must go, whom death does not visit. +Discover to me a charm against death. If I have not one, what do you wish me to +do? I cannot escape from death. Shall I not escape from the fear of death, but +shall I die lamenting and trembling? For the origin of perturbation is this, to +wish for something, and that this should not happen. Therefore if I am able to +change externals according to my wish, I change them; but if I cannot, I am +ready to tear out the eyes of him who hinders me. For the nature of man is not +to endure to be deprived of the good, and not to endure the falling into the +evil. Then at last, when I am neither able to change circumstances nor to tear +out the eyes of him who hinders me, I sit down and groan, and abuse whom I can, +Zeus and the rest of the gods. For if they do not care for me, what are they to +me? Yes, but you will be an impious man. In what respect, then, will it be +worse for me than it is now? To sum up, remember that unless piety and your +interest be in the same thing, piety cannot be maintained in any man. Do not +these things seem necessary (true)? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO BE ANGRY WITH MEN; AND WHAT ARE THE SMALL AND THE GREAT +THINGS AMONG MEN.—What is the cause of assenting to anything? The fact that it +appears to be true. It is not possible then to assent to that which appears not +to be true. Why? Because this is the nature of the understanding, to incline to +the true, to be dissatisfied with the false, and in matters uncertain to +withhold assent. What is the proof of this? Imagine (persuade yourself), if you +can, that it is now night. It is not possible. Take away your persuasion that +it is day. It is not possible. Persuade yourself or take away your persuasion +that the stars are even in number. It is impossible. When then any man assents +to that which is false, be assured that he did not intend to assent to it as +false, for every soul is unwillingly deprived of the truth, as Plato says; but +the falsity seemed to him to be true. Well, in acts what have we of the like +kind as we have here truth or falsehood? We have the fit and the not fit (duty +and not duty), the profitable and the unprofitable, that which is suitable to a +person and that which is not, and whatever is like these. Can then a man think +that a thing is useful to him and not choose it? He cannot. How says Medea? +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“’Tis true I know what evil I shall do,<br/> +But passion overpowers the better counsel.” +</p> + +<p> +She thought that to indulge her passion and take vengeance on her husband was +more profitable than to spare her children. It was so; but she was deceived. +Show her plainly that she is deceived, and she will not do it; but so long as +you do not show it, what can she follow except that which appears to herself +(her opinion)? Nothing else. Why then are you angry with the unhappy woman that +she has been bewildered about the most important things, and is become a viper +instead of a human creature? And why not, if it is possible, rather pity, as we +pity the blind and the lame, so those who are blinded and maimed in the +faculties which are supreme? +</p> + +<p> +Whoever then clearly remembers this, that to man the measure of every act is +the appearance (the opinion), whether the thing appears good or bad. If good, +he is free from blame; if bad, himself suffers the penalty, for it is +impossible that he who is deceived can be one person, and he who suffers +another person—whoever remembers this will not be angry with any man, will not +be vexed at any man, will not revile or blame any man, nor hate, nor quarrel +with any man. +</p> + +<p> +So then all these great and dreadful deeds have this origin, in the appearance +(opinion)? Yes, this origin and no other. The Iliad is nothing else than +appearance and the use of appearances. It appeared to Alexander to carry off +the wife of Menelaus. It appeared to Helene to follow him. If then it had +appeared to Menelaus to feel that it was a gain to be deprived of such a wife, +what would have happened? Not only would the Iliad have been lost, but the +Odyssey also. On so small a matter then did such great things depend? But what +do you mean by such great things? Wars and civil commotions, and the +destruction of many men and cities. And what great matter is this? Is it +nothing? But what great matter is the death of many oxen, and many sheep, and +many nests of swallows or storks being burnt or destroyed? Are these things +then like those? Very like. Bodies of men are destroyed, and the bodies of oxen +and sheep; the dwellings of men are burnt, and the nests of storks. What is +there in this great or dreadful? Or show me what is the difference between a +man’s house and a stork’s nest, as far as each is a dwelling; except that man +builds his little houses of beams and tiles and bricks, and the stork builds +them of sticks and mud. Are a stork and a man then like things? What say you? +In body they are very much alike. +</p> + +<p> +Does a man then differ in no respect from a stork? Don’t suppose that I say so; +but there is no difference in these matters (which I have mentioned). In what +then is the difference? Seek and you will find that there is a difference in +another matter. See whether it is not in a man the understanding of what he +does, see if it is not in social community, in fidelity, in modesty, in +steadfastness, in intelligence. Where then is the great good and evil in men? +It is where the difference is. If the difference is preserved and remains +fenced round, and neither modesty is destroyed, nor fidelity, nor intelligence, +then the man also is preserved; but if any of these things is destroyed and +stormed like a city, then the man too perishes: and in this consist the great +things. Alexander, you say, sustained great damage then when the Hellenes +invaded and when they ravaged Troy, and when his brothers perished. By no +means; for no man is damaged by an action which is not his own; but what +happened at that time was only the destruction of stork’s nests. Now the ruin +of Alexander was when he lost the character of modesty, fidelity, regard to +hospitality, and to decency. When was Achilles ruined? Was it when Patroclus +died? Not so. But it happened when he began to be angry, when he wept for a +girl, when he forgot that he was at Troy not to get mistresses, but to fight. +These things are the ruin of men, this is being besieged, this is the +destruction of cities, when right opinions are destroyed, when they are +corrupted. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON CONSTANCY (OR FIRMNESS).—The being (nature) of the good is a certain will; +the being of the bad is a certain kind of will. What, then, are externals? +Materials for the will, about which the will being conversant shall obtain its +own good or evil. How shall it obtain the good? If it does not admire +(over-value) the materials; for the opinions about the materials, if the +opinions are right, make the will good: but perverse and distorted opinions +make the will bad. God has fixed this law, and says, “If you would have +anything good, receive it from yourself.” You say, No, but I will have it from +another. Do not so: but receive it from yourself. Therefore when the tyrant +threatens and calls me, I say, Whom do you threaten? If he says, I will put you +in chains, I say, You threaten my hands and my feet. If he says, I will cut off +your head, I reply, You threaten my head. If he says, I will throw you into +prison, I say, You threaten the whole of this poor body. If he threatens me +with banishment, I say the same. Does he then not threaten you at all? If I +feel that all these things do not concern me, he does not threaten me at all; +but if I fear any of them, it is I whom he threatens. Whom then do I fear? the +master of what? The master of things which are in my own power? There is no +such master. Do I fear the master of things which are not in my power? And what +are these things to me? +</p> + +<p> +Do you philosophers then teach us to despise kings? I hope not. Who among us +teaches to claim against them the power over things which they possess? Take my +poor body, take my property, take my reputation, take those who are about me. +If I advise any persons to claim these things, they may truly accuse me. Yes, +but I intend to command your opinions also. And who has given you this power? +How can you conquer the opinion of another man? By applying terror to it, he +replies, I will conquer it. Do you not know that opinion conquers itself, and +is not conquered by another? But nothing else can conquer will except the will +itself. For this reason too the law of God is most powerful and most just, +which is this: Let the stronger always be superior to the weaker. Ten are +stronger than one. For what? For putting in chains, for killing, for dragging +whither they choose, for taking away what a man has. The ten therefore conquer +the one in this in which they are stronger. In what then are the ten weaker? If +the one possesses right opinions and the others do not. Well then, can the ten +conquer in this matter? How is it possible? If we were placed in the scales, +must not the heavier draw down the scale in which it is. +</p> + +<p> +How strange then that Socrates should have been so treated by the Athenians. +Slave, why do you say Socrates? Speak of the thing as it is: how strange that +the poor body of Socrates should have been carried off and dragged to prison by +stronger men, and that anyone should have given hemlock to the poor body of +Socrates, and that it should breathe out the life. Do these things seem +strange, do they seem unjust, do you on account of these things blame God? Had +Socrates then no equivalent for these things? Where then for him was the nature +of good? Whom shall we listen to, you or him? And what does Socrates say? +“Anytus and Melitus can kill me, but they cannot hurt me.” And further, he +says, “If it so pleases God, so let it be.” +</p> + +<p> +But show me that he who has the inferior principles overpowers him who is +superior in principles. You will never show this, nor come near showing it; for +this is the law of nature and of God that the superior shall always overpower +the inferior. In what? In that in which it is superior. One body is stronger +than another: many are stronger than one: the thief is stronger than he who is +not a thief. This is the reason why I also lost my lamp, because in wakefulness +the thief was superior to me. But the man bought the lamp at this price: for a +lamp he became a thief, a faithless fellow, and like a wild beast. This seemed +to him a good bargain. Be it so. But a man has seized me by the cloak, and is +drawing me to the public place: then others bawl out, Philosopher, what has +been the use of your opinions? see, you are dragged to prison, you are going to +be beheaded. And what system of philosophy ([Greek: eisagogaen)] could I have +made so that, if a stronger man should have laid hold of my cloak, I should not +be dragged off; that if ten men should have laid hold of me and cast me into +prison, I should not be cast in? Have I learned nothing else then? I have +learned to see that everything which happens, if it be independent of my will, +is nothing to me. I may ask, if you have not gained by this. Why then do you +seek advantage in anything else than in that in which you have learned that +advantage is? +</p> + +<p> +Will you not leave the small arguments ([Greek: logaria]) about these matters +to others, to lazy fellows, that they may sit in a corner and receive their +sorry pay, or grumble that no one gives them anything; and will you not come +forward and make use of what you have learned? For it is not these small +arguments that are wanted now; the writings of the Stoics are full of them. +What then is the thing which is wanted? A man who shall apply them, one who by +his acts shall bear testimony to his words. Assume, I intreat you, this +character, that we may no longer use in the schools the examples of the +ancients, but may have some example of our own. +</p> + +<p> +To whom then does the contemplation of these matters (philosophical inquiries) +belong? To him who has leisure, for man is an animal that loves contemplation. +But it is shameful to contemplate these things as runaway slaves do; we should +sit, as in a theatre, free from distraction, and listen at one time to the +tragic actor, at another time to the lute-player; and not do as slaves do. As +soon as the slave has taken his station he praises the actor and at the same +time looks round; then if any one calls out his master’s name, the slave is +immediately frightened and disturbed. It is shameful for philosophers thus to +contemplate the works of nature. For what is a master? Man is not the master of +man; but death is, and life and pleasure and pain; for if he comes without +these things, bring Cæsar to me and you will see how firm I am. But when he +shall come with these things, thundering and lightning, and when I am afraid of +them, what do I do then except to recognize my master like the runaway slave? +But so long as I have any respite from these terrors, as a runaway slave stands +in the theatre, so do I. I bathe, I drink, I sing; but all this I do with +terror and uneasiness. But if I shall release myself from my masters, that is +from those things by means of which masters are formidable, what further +trouble have I, what master have I still? +</p> + +<p> +What then, ought we to publish these things to all men? No, but we ought to +accommodate ourselves to the ignorant ([Greek: tois idiotais]) and to say: +“This man recommends to me that which he thinks good for himself. I excuse +him.” For Socrates also excused the jailer who had the charge of him in prison +and was weeping when Socrates was going to drink the poison, and said, “How +generously he laments over us.” Does he then say to the jailer that for this +reason we have sent away the women? No, but he says it to his friends who were +able to hear (understand) it; and he treats the jailer as a child. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT CONFIDENCE (COURAGE) IS NOT INCONSISTENT WITH CAUTION.—The opinion of the +philosophers perhaps seem to some to be a paradox; but still let us examine as +well as we can, if it is true that it is possible to do everything both with +caution and with confidence. For caution seems to be in a manner contrary to +confidence, and contraries are in no way consistent. That which seems to many +to be a paradox in the matter under consideration in my opinion is of this +kind; if we asserted that we ought to employ caution and confidence in the same +things, men might justly accuse us of bringing together things which cannot be +united. But now where is the difficulty in what is said? for if these things +are true, which have been often said and often proved, that the nature of good +is in the use of appearances, and the nature of evil likewise, and that things +independent of our will do not admit either the nature of evil or of good, what +paradox do the philosophers assert if they say that where things are not +dependent on the will, there you should employ confidence, but where they are +dependent on the will, there you should employ caution? For if the bad consists +in the bad exercise of the will, caution ought only to be used where things are +dependent on the will. But if things independent of the will and not in our +power are nothing to us, with respect to these we must employ confidence; and +thus we shall both be cautious and confident, and indeed confident because of +our caution. For by employing caution towards things which are really bad, it +will result that we shall have confidence with respect to things which are not +so. +</p> + +<p> +We are then in the condition of deer; when they flee from the huntsmen’s +feathers in fright, whither do they turn and in what do they seek refuge as +safe? They turn to the nets, and thus they perish by confounding things which +are objects of fear with things that they ought not to fear. Thus we also act: +in what cases do we fear? In things which are independent of the will. In what +cases on the contrary do we behave with confidence, as if there were no danger? +In things dependent on the will. To be deceived then, or to act rashly, or +shamelessly, or with base desire to seek something, does not concern us at all, +if we only hit the mark in things which are independent of our will. But where +there is death or exile or pain or infamy, there we attempt to run away, there +we are struck with terror. Therefore, as we may expect it to happen with those +who err in the greatest matters, we convert natural confidence (that is, +according to nature) into audacity, desperation, rashness, shamelessness; and +we convert natural caution and modesty into cowardice and meanness, which are +full of fear and confusion. For if a man should transfer caution to those +things in which the will may be exercised and the acts of the will, he will +immediately by willing to be cautious have also the power of avoiding what he +chooses; but if he transfer it to the things which are not in his power and +will, and attempt to avoid the things which are in the power of others, he will +of necessity fear, he will be unstable, he will be disturbed; for death or pain +is not formidable, but the fear of pain or death. For this reason we commend +the poet, who said: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Not death is evil, but a shameful death.” +</p> + +<p> +Confidence (courage) then ought to be employed against death, and caution +against the fear of death. But now we do the contrary, and employ against death +the attempt to escape; and to our opinion about it we employ carelessness, +rashness, and indifference. These things Socrates properly used to call tragic +masks; for as to children masks appear terrible and fearful from inexperience, +we also are affected in like manner by events (the things which happen in life) +for no other reason than children are by masks. For what is a child? Ignorance. +What is a child? Want of knowledge. For when a child knows these things, he is +in no way inferior to us. What is death? A tragic mask. Turn it and examine it. +See, it does not bite. The poor body must be separated from the spirit either +now or later as it was separated from it before. Why then are you troubled if +it be separated now? for if it is not separated now, it will be separated +afterwards. Why? That the period of the universe may be completed, for it has +need of the present, and of the future, and of the past. What is pain? A mask. +Turn it and examine it. The poor flesh is moved roughly, then on the contrary +smoothly. If this does not satisfy (please) you, the door is open; if it does, +bear (with things). For the door ought to be open for all occasions; and so we +have no trouble. +</p> + +<p> +What then is the fruit of these opinions? It is that which ought to be the most +noble and the most becoming to those who are really educated, release from +perturbation, release from fear. Freedom. For in these matters we must not +believe the many, who say that free persons only ought to be educated, but we +should rather believe the philosophers who say that the educated only are free. +How is this? In this manner: Is freedom anything else than the power of living +as we choose? Nothing else. Tell me then, ye men, do you wish to live in error? +We do not. No one then who lives in error is free. Do you wish to live in fear? +Do you wish to live in sorrow? Do you wish to live in perturbation? By no +means. No one then who is in a state of fear or sorrow or perturbation is free; +but whoever is delivered from sorrows and fears and perturbations, he is at the +same time also delivered from servitude. How then can we continue to believe +you, most dear legislators, when you say, We only allow free persons to be +educated? For philosophers say we allow none to be free except the educated; +that is, God does not allow it. When then a man has turned round before the +prætor his own slave, has he done nothing? He has done something. What? He has +turned round his own slave before the prætor. Has he done nothing more? Yes: he +is also bound to pay for him the tax called the twentieth. Well then, is not +the man who has gone through this ceremony become free? No more than he is +become free from perturbations. Have you who are able to turn round (free) +others no master? is not money your master, or a girl or a boy, or some tyrant +or some friend of the tyrant? Why do you trouble then when you are going off to +any trial (danger) of this kind? It is for this reason that I often say, study +and hold in readiness these principles by which you may determine what those +things are with reference to which you ought to be cautious, courageous in that +which does not depend on your will, cautious in that which does depend on it. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF TRANQUILLITY (FREEDOM FROM PERTURBATION).—Consider, you who are going into +court, what you wish to maintain and what you wish to succeed in. For if you +wish to maintain a will conformable to nature, you have every security, every +facility, you have no troubles. For if you wish to maintain what is in your own +power and is naturally free, and if you are content with these, what else do +you care for? For who is the master of such things? Who can take them away? If +you choose to be modest and faithful, who shall not allow you to be so? If you +choose not to be restrained or compelled, who shall compel you to desire what +you think that you ought not to desire? who shall compel you to avoid what you +do not think fit to avoid? But what do you say? The judge will determine +against you something that appears formidable; but that you should also suffer +in trying to avoid it, how can he do that? When then the pursuit of objects and +the avoiding of them are in your power, what else do you care for? Let this be +your preface, this your narrative, this your confirmation, this your victory, +this your peroration, this your applause (or the approbation which you will +receive). +</p> + +<p> +Therefore Socrates said to one who was reminding him to prepare for his trial, +Do you not think then that I have been preparing for it all my life? By what +kind of preparation? I have maintained that which was in my own power. How +then? I have never done anything unjust either in my private or in my public +life. +</p> + +<p> +But if you wish to maintain externals also, your poor body, your little +property, and your little estimation, I advise you to make from this moment all +possible preparation, and then consider both the nature of your judge and your +adversary. If it is necessary to embrace his knees, embrace his knees; if to +weep, weep; if to groan, groan. For when you have subjected to externals what +is your own, then be a slave and do not resist, and do not sometimes choose to +be a slave, and sometimes not choose, but with all your mind be one or the +other, either free or a slave, either instructed or uninstructed, either a +well-bred cock or a mean one, either endure to be beaten until you die or yield +at once; and let it not happen to you to receive many stripes and then to +yield. But if these things are base, determine immediately. Where is the nature +of evil and good? It is where truth is: where truth is and where nature is, +there is caution: where truth is, there is courage where nature is. +</p> + +<p> +For this reason also it is ridiculous to say, Suggest something to me (tell me +what to do). What should I suggest to you? Well, form my mind so as to +accommodate itself to any event. Why that is just the same as if a man who is +ignorant of letters should say, Tell me what to write when any name is proposed +to me. For if I should tell him to write Dion, and then another should come and +propose to him not the name of Dion but that of Theon, what will be done? what +will he write? But if you have practised writing, you are also prepared to +write (or to do) anything that is required. If you are not, what can I now +suggest? For if circumstances require something else, what will you say, or +what will you do? Remember then this general precept and you will need no +suggestion. But if you gape after externals, you must of necessity ramble up +and down in obedience to the will of your master. And who is the master? He who +has the power over the things which you seek to gain or try to avoid. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW MAGNANIMITY IS CONSISTENT WITH CARE.—Things themselves (materials) are +indifferent; but the use of them is not indifferent. How then shall a man +preserve firmness and tranquillity, and at the same time be careful and neither +rash nor negligent? If he imitates those who play at dice. The counters are +indifferent; the dice are indifferent. How do I know what the cast will be? But +to use carefully and dexterously the cast of the dice, this is my business. +Thus then in life also the chief business is this: distinguish and separate +things, and say: Externals are not in my power: will is in my power. Where +shall I seek the good and the bad? Within, in the things which are my own. But +in what does not belong to you call nothing either good or bad, or profit or +damage or anything of the kind. +</p> + +<p> +What then? Should we use such things carelessly? In no way: for this on the +other hand is bad for the faculty of the will, and consequently against nature; +but we should act carefully because the use is not indifferent, and we should +also act with firmness and freedom from perturbations because the material is +indifferent. For where the material is not indifferent, there no man can hinder +me or compel me. Where I can be hindered and compelled, the obtaining of those +things is not in my power, nor is it good or bad; but the use is either bad or +good, and the use is in my power. But it is difficult to mingle and to bring +together these two things—the carefulness of him who is affected by the matter +(or things about him), and the firmness of him who has no regard for it; but it +is not impossible: and if it is, happiness is impossible. But we should act as +we do in the case of a voyage. What can I do? I can choose the master of the +ship, the sailors, the day, the opportunity. Then comes a storm. What more have +I to care for? for my part is done. The business belongs to another, the +master. But the ship is sinking—what then have I to do? I do the only thing +that I can, not to be drowned full of fear, nor screaming nor blaming God, but +knowing that what has been produced must also perish: for I am not an immortal +being, but a man, a part of the whole, as an hour is a part of the day: I must +be present like the hour, and past like the hour. What difference then does it +make to me how I pass away, whether by being suffocated or by a fever, for I +must pass through some such means. +</p> + +<p> +How then is it said that some external things are according to nature and +others contrary to nature? It is said as it might be said if we were separated +from union (or society): for to the foot I shall say that it is according to +nature for it to be clean; but if you take it as a foot and as a thing not +detached (independent), it will befit it both to step into the mud and tread on +thorns, and sometimes to be cut off for the good of the whole body; otherwise +it is no longer a foot. We should think in some such way about ourselves also. +What are you? A man. If you consider yourself as detached from other men, it is +according to nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if you +consider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is for the sake of +that whole that at one time you should be sick, at another time take a voyage +and run into danger, and at another time be in want, and in some cases die +prematurely. Why then are you troubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no +longer a foot if it is detached from the body, so you are no longer a man if +you are separated from other men. For what is a man? A part of a state, of that +first which consists of gods and of men; then of that which is called next to +it, which is a small image of the universal state. What then must I be brought +to trial; must another have a fever, another sail on the sea, another die, and +another be condemned? Yes, for it is impossible in such a universe of things, +among so many living together, that such things should not happen, some to one +and others to others. It is your duty then since you are come here, to say what +you ought, to arrange these things as it is fit. Then some one says, “I shall +charge you with doing me wrong.” Much good may it do you: I have done my part; +but whether you also have done yours, you must look to that; for there is some +danger of this too, that it may escape your notice. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF INDIFFERENCE.—The hypothetical proposition is indifferent: the judgment +about it is not indifferent, but it is either knowledge or opinion or error. +Thus life is indifferent: the use is not indifferent. When any man then tells +you that these things also are indifferent, do not become negligent; and when a +man invites you to be careful (about such things), do not become abject and +struck with admiration of material things. And it is good for you to know your +own preparation and power, that in those matters where you have not been +prepared, you may keep quiet, and not be vexed, if others have the advantage +over you. For you too in syllogisms will claim to have the advantage over them; +and if others should be vexed at this, you will console them by saying, “I have +learned them, and you have not.” Thus also where there is need of any practice, +seek not that which is acquired from the need (of such practice), but yield in +that matter to those who have had practice, and be yourself content with +firmness of mind. +</p> + +<p> +Go and salute a certain person. How? Not meanly. But I have been shut out, for +I have not learned to make my way through the window; and when I have found the +door shut, I must either come back or enter through the window. But still speak +to him. In what way? Not meanly. But suppose that you have not got what you +wanted. Was this your business, and not his? Why then do you claim that which +belongs to another? Always remember what is your own, and what belongs to +another; and you will not be disturbed. Chrysippus therefore said well, So long +as future things are uncertain, I always cling to those which are more adapted +to the conservation of that which is according to nature; for God himself has +given me the faculty of such choice. But if I knew that it was fated (in the +order of things) for me to be sick, I would even move towards it; for the foot +also, if it had intelligence, would move to go into the mud. For why are ears +of corn produced? Is it not that they may become dry? And do they not become +dry that they may be reaped? for they are not separated from communion with +other things. If then they had perception, ought they to wish never to be +reaped? But this is a curse upon ears of corn to be never reaped. So we must +know that in the case of men too it is a curse not to die, just the same as not +to be ripened and not to be reaped. But since we must be reaped, and we also +know that we are reaped, we are vexed at it; for we neither know what we are +nor have we studied what belongs to man, as those who have studied horses know +what belongs to horses. But Chrysantas when he was going to strike the enemy +checked himself when he heard the trumpet sounding a retreat: so it seemed +better to him to obey the general’s command than to follow his own inclination. +But not one of us chooses, even when necessity summons, readily to obey it, but +weeping and groaning we suffer what we do suffer, and we call them +“circumstances.” What kind of circumstances, man? If you give the name of +circumstances to the things which are around you, all things are circumstances; +but if you call hardships by this name, what hardship is there in the dying of +that which has been produced? But that which destroys is either a sword, or a +wheel, or the sea, or a tile, or a tyrant. Why do you care about the way of +going down to Hades? All ways are equal. But if you will listen to the truth, +the way which the tyrant sends you is shorter. A tyrant never killed a man in +six months: but a fever is often a year about it. All these things are only +sound and the noise of empty names. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE OUGHT TO USE DIVINATION.—Through an unreasonable regard to divination +many of us omit many duties. For what more can the diviner see than death or +danger or disease, or generally things of that kind? If then I must expose +myself to danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, what +need have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner who has told me +the nature of good and of evil, and has explained to me the signs (or marks) of +both? What need have I then to consult the viscera of victims or the flight of +birds, and why do I submit when he says, It is for your interest? For does he +know what is for my interest, does he know what is good; and as he has learned +the signs of the viscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil? For +if he knows the signs of these, he knows the signs both of the beautiful and of +the ugly, and of the just and of the unjust. Do you tell me, man, what is the +thing which is signified for me: is it life or death, poverty or wealth? But +whether these things are for my interest or whether they are not, I do not +intend to ask you. Why don’t you give your opinion on matters of grammar, and +why do you give it here about things on which we are all in error and disputing +with one another? +</p> + +<p> +What then leads us to frequent use of divination? Cowardice, the dread of what +will happen. This is the reason why we flatter the diviners. Pray, master, +shall I succeed to the property of my father? Let us see: let us sacrifice on +the occasion. Yes, master, as fortune chooses. When he has said, You shall +succeed to the inheritance, we thank him as if we received the inheritance from +him. The consequence is that they play upon us. +</p> + +<p> +Will you not then seek the nature of good in the rational animal? for if it is +not there, you will not choose to say that it exists in any other thing (plant +or animal). What then? are not plants and animals also the works of God? They +are; but they are not superior things, nor yet parts of the gods. But you are a +superior thing; you are a portion separated from the Deity; you have in +yourself a certain portion of him. Why then are you ignorant of your own noble +descent? Why do you not know whence you came? will you not remember when you +are eating who you are who eat and whom you feed? When you are in social +intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, when you are engaged in +discussion, know you not that you are nourishing a god, that you are exercising +a god? Wretch, you are carrying about a god with you, and you know it not. Do +you think that I mean some god of silver or of gold, and external? You carry +him within yourself, and you perceive not that you are polluting him by impure +thoughts and dirty deeds. And if an image of God were present, you would not +dare to do any of the things which you are doing; but when God himself is +present within and sees all and hears all, you are not ashamed of thinking such +things and doing such things, ignorant as you are of your own nature and +subject to the anger of God. Then why do we fear when we are sending a young +man from the school into active life, lest he should do anything improperly, +eat improperly, have improper intercourse with women; and lest the rags in +which he is wrapped should debase him, lest fine garments should make him +proud. This youth (if he acts thus) does not know his own God; he knows not +with whom he sets out (into the world). But can we endure when he says, “I wish +I had you (God) with me.” Have you not God with you? and do you seek for any +other when you have him? or will God tell you anything else than this? If you +were a statue of Phidias, either Athena or Zeus, you would think both of +yourself and of the artist, and if you had any understanding (power of +perception) you would try to do nothing unworthy of him who made you or of +yourself, and try not to appear in an unbecoming dress (attitude) to those who +look upon you. But now because Zeus has made you, for this reason do you care +not how you shall appear? And yet is the artist (in the one case) like the +artist in the other? or the work in the one case like the other? And what work +of an artist, for instance, has in itself the faculties, which the artist shows +in making it? Is it not marble or bronze, or gold or ivory? and the Athena of +Phidias, when she has once extended the hand and received in it the figure of +Victory, stands in that attitude for ever. But the works of God have power of +motion, they breathe, they have the faculty of using the appearances of things +and the power of examining them. Being the work of such an artist do you +dishonor him? And what shall I say, not only that he made you, but also +entrusted you to yourself and made you a deposit to yourself? Will you not +think of this too, but do you also dishonor your guardianship? But if God had +entrusted an orphan to you, would you thus neglect him? He has delivered +yourself to your own care, and says: “I had no one fitter to entrust him to +than yourself; keep him for me such as he is by nature, modest, faithful, +erect, unterrified, free from passion and perturbation.” And then you do not +keep him such. +</p> + +<p> +But some will say, Whence has this fellow got the arrogance which he displays +and these supercilious looks? I have not yet so much gravity as befits a +philosopher; for I do not yet feel confidence in what I have learned and in +what I have assented to. I still fear my own weakness. Let me get confidence +and then you shall see a countenance such as I ought to have and an attitude +such as I ought to have; then I will show to you the statue, when it is +perfected, when it is polished. What do you expect? a supercilious countenance? +Does the Zeus at Olympia lift up his brow? No, his look is fixed as becomes him +who is ready to say: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Irrevocable is my word and shall not fail.—Iliad, i., 526. +</p> + +<p> +Such will I show myself to you, faithful, modest, noble, free from +perturbation. What, and immortal, too, except from old age, and from sickness? +No, but dying as becomes a god, sickening as becomes a god. This power I +possess; this I can do. But the rest I do not possess, nor can I do. I will +show the nerves (strength) of a philosopher. What nerves are these? A desire +never disappointed, an aversion which never falls on that which it would avoid, +a proper pursuit ([Greek: hormaen]), a diligent purpose, an assent which is not +rash. These you shall see. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WHEN WE CANNOT FULFIL THAT WHICH THE CHARACTER OF A MAN PROMISES, WE +ASSUME THE CHARACTER OF A PHILOSOPHER.—It is no common (easy) thing to do this +only, to fulfil the promise of a man’s nature. For what is a man? The answer +is, A rational and mortal being. Then by the rational faculty from whom are we +separated? From wild beasts. And from what others? From sheep and like animals. +Take care then to do nothing like a wild beast; but if you do, you have lost +the character of a man; you have not fulfilled your promise. See that you do +nothing like a sheep; but if you do, in this case also the man is lost. What +then do we do as sheep? When we act gluttonously, when we act lewdly, when we +act rashly, filthily, inconsiderately, to what have we declined? To sheep. What +have we lost? The rational faculty. When we act contentiously and harmfully and +passionately and violently, to what have we declined? To wild beasts. +Consequently some of us are great wild beasts, and others little beasts, of a +bad disposition and small, whence we may say, Let me be eaten by a lion. But in +all these ways the promise of a man acting as a man is destroyed. For when is a +conjunctive (complex) proposition maintained? When it fulfils what its nature +promises; so that the preservation of a complex proposition is when it is a +conjunction of truths. When is a disjunctive maintained? When it fulfils what +it promises. When are flutes, a lyre, a horse, a dog, preserved? (When they +severally keep their promise.) What is the wonder then if man also in like +manner is preserved, and in like manner is lost? Each man is improved and +preserved by corresponding acts, the carpenter by acts of carpentry, the +grammarian by acts of grammar. But if a man accustoms himself to write +ungrammatically, of necessity his art will be corrupted and destroyed. Thus +modest actions preserve the modest man, and immodest actions destroy him; and +actions of fidelity preserve the faithful man, and the contrary actions destroy +him. And on the other hand contrary actions strengthen contrary characters: +shamelessness strengthens the shameless man, faithlessness the faithless man, +abusive words the abusive man, anger the man of an angry temper, and unequal +receiving and giving make the avaricious man more avaricious. +</p> + +<p> +For this reason philosophers admonish us not to be satisfied with learning +only, but also to add study, and then practice. For we have long been +accustomed to do contrary things, and we put in practice opinions which are +contrary to true opinions. If then we shall not also put in practice right +opinions, we shall be nothing more than the expositors of the opinions of +others. For now who among us is not able to discourse according to the rules of +art about good and evil things (in this fashion)? That of things some are good, +and some are bad, and some are indifferent: the good then are virtues, and the +things which participate in virtues; and the bad are the contrary; and the +indifferent are wealth, health, reputation. Then, if in the midst of our talk +there should happen some greater noise than usual, or some of those who are +present should laugh at us, we are disturbed. Philosopher, where are the things +which you were talking about? Whence did you produce and utter them? From the +lips, and thence only. Why then do you corrupt the aids provided by others? Why +do you treat the weightiest matters as if you were playing a game of dice? For +it is one thing to lay up bread and wine as in a storehouse, and another thing +to eat. That which has been eaten, is digested, distributed, and is become +sinews, flesh, bones, blood, healthy color, healthy breath. Whatever is stored +up, when you choose you can readily take and show it; but you have no other +advantage from it except so far as to appear to possess it. For what is the +difference between explaining these doctrines and those of men who have +different opinions? Sit down now and explain according to the rules of art the +opinions of Epicurus, and perhaps you will explain his opinions in a more +useful manner than Epicurus himself. Why then do you call yourself a Stoic? Why +do you deceive the many? Why do you act the part of a Jew, when you are a +Greek? Do you not see how (why) each is called a Jew, or a Syrian, or an +Egyptian? and when we see a man inclining to two sides, we are accustomed to +say, This man is not a Jew, but he acts as one. But when he has assumed the +affects of one who has been imbued with Jewish doctrine and has adopted that +sect, then he is in fact and he is named a Jew. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE MAY DISCOVER THE DUTIES OF LIFE FROM NAMES.—Consider who you are. In the +first place, you are a man; and this is one who has nothing superior to the +faculty of the will, but all other things subjected to it; and the faculty +itself he possesses unenslaved and free from subjection. Consider then from +what things you have been separated by reason. You have been separated from +wild beasts; you have been separated from domestic animals ([Greek: probaton]). +Further, you are a citizen of the world, and a part of it, not one of the +subservient (serving), but one of the principal (ruling) parts, for you are +capable of comprehending the divine administration and of considering the +connection of things. What then does the character of a citizen promise +(profess)? To hold nothing as profitable to himself; to deliberate about +nothing as if he were detached from the community, but to act as the hand or +foot would do, if they had reason and understood the constitution of nature, +for they would never put themselves in motion nor desire anything otherwise +than with reference to the whole. Therefore, the philosophers say well, that if +the good man had foreknowledge of what would happen, he would co-operate +towards his own sickness and death and mutilation, since he knows that these +things are assigned to him according to the universal arrangement, and that the +whole is superior to the part, and the state to the citizen. But now because we +do not know the future, it is our duty to stick to the things which are in +their nature more suitable for our choice, for we were made among other things +for this. +</p> + +<p> +After this, remember that you are a son. What does this character promise? To +consider that everything which is the son’s belongs to the father, to obey him +in all things, never to blame him to another, nor to say or do anything which +does him injury, to yield to him in all things and give way, co-operating with +him as far as you can. After this know that you are a brother also, and that to +this character it is due to make concessions; to be easily persuaded, to speak +good of your brother, never to claim in opposition to him any of the things +which are independent of the will, but readily to give them up, that you may +have the larger share in what is dependent on the will. For see what a thing it +is, in place of a lettuce, if it should so happen, or a seat, to gain for +yourself goodness of disposition. How great is the advantage. +</p> + +<p> +Next to this, if you are a senator of any state, remember that you are a +senator; if a youth, that you are a youth; if an old man, that you are an old +man; for each of such names, if it comes to be examined, marks out the proper +duties. But if you go and blame your brother, I say to you, You have forgotten +who you are and what is your name. In the next place, if you were a smith and +made a wrong use of the hammer, you would have forgotten the smith; and if you +have forgotten the brother and instead of a brother have become an enemy, would +you appear not to have changed one thing for another in that case? And if +instead of a man, who is a tame animal and social, you are become a mischievous +wild beast, treacherous, and biting, have you lost nothing? But (I suppose) you +must lose a bit of money that you may suffer damage? And does the loss of +nothing else do a man damage? If you had lost the art of grammar or music, +would you think the loss of it a damage? and if you shall lose modesty, +moderation ([Greek: chtastolaen]) and gentleness, do you think the loss +nothing? And yet the things first mentioned are lost by some cause external and +independent of the will, and the second by our own fault; and as to the first +neither to have them nor to lose them is shameful; but as to the second, not to +have them and to lose them is shameful and matter of reproach and a misfortune. +</p> + +<p> +What then? shall I not hurt him who has hurt me? In the first place consider +what hurt ([Greek: blabae]) is, and remember what you have heard from the +philosophers. For if the good consists in the will (purpose, intention, [Greek: +proaireeis]), and the evil also in the will, see if what you say is not this: +What then, since that man has hurt himself by doing an unjust act to me, shall +I not hurt myself by doing some unjust act to him? Why do we not imagine to +ourselves (mentally think of) something of this kind? But where there is any +detriment to the body or to our possession, there is harm there; and where the +same thing happens to the faculty of the will, there is (you suppose) no harm; +for he who has been deceived or he who has done an unjust act neither suffers +in the head nor in the eye nor in the hip, nor does he lose his estate; and we +wish for nothing else than (security to) these things. But whether we shall +have the will modest and faithful or shameless and faithless, we care not the +least, except only in the school so far as a few words are concerned. Therefore +our proficiency is limited to these few words; but beyond them it does not +exist even in the slightest degree. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +WHAT THE BEGINNING OF PHILOSOPHY IS.—The beginning of philosophy, to him at +least who enters on it in the right way and by the door is a consciousness of +his own weakness and inability about necessary things; for we come into the +world with no natural notion of a right-angled triangle, or of a diesis (a +quarter tone), or of a half-tone; but we learn each of these things by a +certain transmission according to art; and for this reason those who do not +know them do not think that they know them. But as to good and evil, and +beautiful and ugly, and becoming and unbecoming, and happiness and misfortune, +and proper and improper, and what we ought to do and what we ought not to do, +who ever came into the world without having an innate idea of them? Wherefore +we all use these names, and we endeavor to fit the preconceptions to the +several cases (things) thus: he has done well; he has not done well; he has +done as he ought, not as he ought; he has been unfortunate, he has been +fortunate; he is unjust, he is just; who does not use these names? who among us +defers the use of them till he has learned them, as he defers the use of the +words about lines (geometrical figures) or sounds? And the cause of this is +that we come into the world already taught as it were by nature some things on +this matter ([Greek: topon]), and proceeding from these we have added to them +self-conceit ([Greek: oiaesin]). For why, a man says, do I not know the +beautiful and the ugly? Have I not the notion of it? You have. Do I not adapt +it to particulars? You do. Do I not then adapt it properly? In that lies the +whole question; and conceit is added here; for beginning from these things +which are admitted men proceed to that which is matter of dispute by means of +unsuitable adaptation; for if they possessed this power of adaptation in +addition to those things, what would hinder them from being perfect? But now +since you think that you properly adapt the preconceptions to the particulars, +tell me whence you derive this (assume that you do so). Because I think so. But +it does not seem so to another, and he thinks that he also makes a proper +adaptation; or does he not think so? He does think so. Is it possible then that +both of you can properly apply the preconceptions to things about which you +have contrary opinions? It is not possible. Can you then show us anything +better towards adapting the preconceptions beyond your thinking that you do? +Does the madman do any other things than the things which seem to him right? Is +then this criterion sufficient for him also? It is not sufficient. Come then to +something which is superior to seeming ([Greek: tou dochein]). What is this? +</p> + +<p> +Observe, this is the beginning of philosophy, a perception of the disagreement +of men with one another, and an inquiry into the cause of the disagreement, and +a condemnation and distrust of that which only “seems,” and a certain +investigation of that which “seems” whether it “seems” rightly, and a discovery +of some rule ([Greek: chanonos]), as we have discovered a balance in the +determination of weights, and a carpenter’s rule (or square) in the case of +straight and crooked things.—This is the beginning of philosophy. Must we say +that all things are right which seem so to all? And how is it possible that +contradictions can be right?—Not all then, but all which seem to us to be +right.—How more to you than those which seem right to the Syrians? why more +than what seem right to the Egyptians? why more than what seems right to me or +to any other man? Not at all more. What then “seems” to every man is not +sufficient for determining what “is”; for neither in the case of weights nor +measures are we satisfied with the bare appearance, but in each case we have +discovered a certain rule. In this matter then is there no rule superior to +what “seems”? And how is it possible that the most necessary things among men +should have no sign (mark), and be incapable of being discovered? There is then +some rule. And why then do we not seek the rule and discover it, and afterwards +use it without varying from it, not even stretching out the finger without it? +For this, I think, is that which when it is discovered cures of their madness +those who use mere “seeming” as a measure, and misuse it; so that for the +future proceeding from certain things (principles) known and made clear we may +use in the case of particular things the preconceptions which are distinctly +fixed. +</p> + +<p> +What is the matter presented to us about which we are inquiring? Pleasure (for +example). Subject it to the rule, throw it into the balance. Ought the good to +be such a thing that it is fit that we have confidence in it? Yes. And in which +we ought to confide? It ought to be. Is it fit to trust to anything which is +insecure? No. Is then pleasure anything secure? No. Take it then and throw it +out of the scale, and drive it far away from the place of good things. But if +you are not sharp-sighted, and one balance is not enough for you, bring +another. Is it fit to be elated over what is good? Yes. Is it proper then to be +elated over present pleasure? See that you do not say that it is proper; but if +you do, I shall then not think you worthy even of the balance. Thus things are +tested and weighed when the rules are ready. And to philosophize is this, to +examine and confirm the rules; and then to use them when they are known is the +act of a wise and good man. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF DISPUTATION OR DISCUSSION.—What things a man must learn in order to be able +to apply the art of disputation, has been accurately shown by our philosophers +(the Stoics); but with respect to the proper use of the things, we are entirely +without practice. Only give to any of us, whom you please, an illiterate man to +discuss with, and he cannot discover how to deal with the man. But when he has +moved the man a little, if he answers beside the purpose, he does not know how +to treat him, but he then either abuses or ridicules him, and says, He is an +illiterate man; it is not possible to do anything with him. Now a guide, when +he has found a man out of the road, leads him into the right way; he does not +ridicule or abuse him and then leave him. Do you also show the illiterate man +the truth, and you will see that he follows. But so long as you do not show him +the truth, do not ridicule him, but rather feel your own incapacity. +</p> + +<p> +Now this was the first and chief peculiarity of Socrates, never to be irritated +in argument, never to utter anything abusive, anything insulting, but to bear +with abusive persons and to put an end to the quarrel. If you would know what +great power he had in this way, read the Symposium of Xenophon, and you will +see how many quarrels he put an end to. Hence with good reason in the poets +also this power is most highly praised: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Quickly with skill he settles great disputes.<br/> +Hesiod, Theogony, v. 87. +</p> + +<p> +ON ANXIETY (SOLICITUDE).—When I see a man anxious, I say, What does this man +want? If he did not want something which is not in his power, how could he be +anxious? For this reason a lute player when he is singing by himself has no +anxiety, but when he enters the theatre, he is anxious, even if he has a good +voice and plays well on the lute; for he not only wishes to sing well, but also +to obtain applause: but this is not in his power. Accordingly, where he has +skill, there he has confidence. Bring any single person who knows nothing of +music, and the musician does not care for him. But in the matter where a man +knows nothing and has not been practised, there he is anxious. What matter is +this? He knows not what a crowd is or what the praise of a crowd is. However, +he has learned to strike the lowest chord and the highest; but what the praise +of the many is, and what power it has in life, he neither knows nor has he +thought about it. Hence he must of necessity tremble and grow pale. Is any man +then afraid about things which are not evils? No. Is he afraid about things +which are evils, but still so far within his power that they may not happen? +Certainly he is not. If then the things which are independent of the will are +neither good nor bad, and all things which do depend on the will are within our +power, and no man can either take them from us or give them to us, if we do not +choose, where is room left for anxiety? But we are anxious about our poor body, +our little property, about the will of Cæsar; but not anxious about things +internal. Are we anxious about not forming a false opinion? No, for this is in +my power. About not exerting our movements contrary to nature? No, not even +about this. When then you see a man pale, as the physician says, judging from +the complexion, this man’s spleen is disordered, that man’s liver; so also say, +this man’s desire and aversion are disordered, he is not in the right way, he +is in a fever. For nothing else changes the color, or causes trembling or +chattering of the teeth, or causes a man to +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Sink in his knees and shift from foot to foot.<br/> +Iliad, xiii., 281. +</p> + +<p> +For this reason, when Zeno was going to meet Antigonus, he was not anxious, for +Antigonus had no power over any of the things which Zeno admired; and Zeno did +not care for those things over which Antigonus had power. But Antigonus was +anxious when he was going to meet Zeno, for he wished to please Zeno; but this +was a thing external (out of his power). But Zeno did not want to please +Antigonus; for no man who is skilled in any art wishes to please one who has no +such skill. +</p> + +<p> +Should I try to please you? Why? I suppose, you know the measure by which one +man is estimated by another. Have you taken pains to learn what is a good man +and what is a bad man, and how a man becomes one or the other? Why then are you +not good yourself? How, he replies, am I not good? Because no good man laments +or groans or weeps, no good man is pale and trembles, or says, How will he +receive me, how will he listen to me? Slave, just as it pleases him. Why do you +care about what belongs to others? Is it now his fault if he receives badly +what proceeds from you? Certainly. And is it possible that a fault should be +one man’s, and the evil in another? No. Why then are you anxious about that +which belongs to others? Your question is reasonable; but I am anxious how I +shall speak to him. Cannot you then speak to him as you choose? But I fear that +I may be disconcerted? If you are going to write the name of Dion, are you +afraid that you would be disconcerted? By no means. Why? is it not because you +have practised writing the name? Certainly. Well, if you were going to read the +name, would you not feel the same? and why? Because every art has a certain +strength and confidence in the things which belong to it. Have you then not +practised speaking? and what else did you learn in the school? Syllogisms and +sophistical propositions? For what purpose? was it not for the purpose of +discoursing skilfully? and is not discoursing skilfully the same as discoursing +seasonably and cautiously and with intelligence, and also without making +mistakes and without hindrance, and besides all this with confidence? Yes. When +then you are mounted on a horse and go into a plain, are you anxious at being +matched against a man who is on foot, and anxious in a matter in which you are +practised, and he is not? Yes, but that person (to whom I am going to speak) +has power to kill me. Speak the truth, then, unhappy man, and do not brag, nor +claim to be a philosopher, nor refuse to acknowledge your masters, but so long +as you present this handle in your body, follow every man who is stronger than +yourself. Socrates used to practice speaking, he who talked as he did to the +tyrants, to the dicasts (judges), he who talked in his prison. Diogenes had +practised speaking, he who spoke as he did to Alexander, to the pirates, to the +person who bought him. These men were confident in the things which they +practised. But do you walk off to your own affairs and never leave them: go and +sit in a corner, and weave syllogisms, and propose them to another. There is +not in you the man who can rule a state. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO NASO.—When a certain Roman entered with his son and listened to one reading, +Epictetus said, This is the method of instruction; and he stopped. When the +Roman asked him to go on, Epictetus said, Every art when it is taught causes +labor to him who is unacquainted with it and is unskilled in it, and indeed the +things which proceed from the arts immediately show their use in the purpose +for which they were made; and most of them contain something attractive and +pleasing. For indeed to be present and to observe how a shoemaker learns is not +a pleasant thing; but the shoe is useful and also not disagreeable to look at. +And the discipline of a smith when he is learning is very disagreeable to one +who chances to be present and is a stranger to the art: but the work shows the +use of the art. But you will see this much more in music; for if you are +present while a person is learning, the discipline will appear most +disagreeable; and yet the results of music are pleasing and delightful to those +who know nothing of music. And here we conceive the work of a philosopher to be +something of this kind: he must adapt his wish ([Greek: boulaesin]) to what is +going on, so that neither any of the things which are taking place shall take +place contrary to our wish, nor any of the things which do not take place shall +not take place when we wish that they should. From this the result is to those +who have so arranged the work of philosophy, not to fail in the desire, nor to +fall in with that which they would avoid; without uneasiness, without fear, +without perturbation to pass through life themselves, together with their +associates maintaining the relations both natural and acquired, as the relation +of son, of father, of brother, of citizen, of man, of wife, of neighbor, of +fellow-traveller, of ruler, of ruled. The work of a philosopher we conceive to +be something like this. It remains next to inquire how this must be +accomplished. +</p> + +<p> +We see then that the carpenter ([Greek: techton]) when he has learned certain +things becomes a carpenter; the pilot by learning certain things becomes a +pilot. May it not then in philosophy also not be sufficient to wish to be wise +and good, and that there is also a necessity to learn certain things? We +inquire then what these things are. The philosophers say that we ought first to +learn that there is a God and that he provides for all things; also that it is +not possible to conceal from him our acts, or even our intentions and thoughts. +The next thing is to learn what is the nature of the gods; for such as they are +discovered to be, he, who would please and obey them, must try with all his +power to be like them. If the divine is faithful, man also must be faithful; if +it is free, man also must be free; if beneficent, man also must be beneficent; +if magnanimous, man also must be magnanimous; as being then an imitator of God +he must do and say everything consistently with this fact. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO OR AGAINST THOSE WHO OBSTINATELY PERSIST IN WHAT THEY HAVE DETERMINED.—When +some persons have heard these words, that a man ought to be constant (firm), +and that the will is naturally free and not subject to compulsion, but that all +other things are subject to hindrance, to slavery, and are in the power of +others, they suppose that they ought without deviation to abide by everything +which they have determined. But in the first place that which has been +determined ought to be sound (true). I require tone (sinews) in the body, but +such as exists in a healthy body, in an athletic body; but if it is plain to me +that you have the tone of a frenzied man and you boast of it, I shall say to +you, Man, seek the physician; this is not tone, but atony (deficiency in right +tone). In a different way something of the same kind is felt by those who +listen to these discourses in a wrong manner; which was the case with one of my +companions, who for no reason resolved to starve himself to death. I heard of +it when it was the third day of his abstinence from food, and I went to inquire +what had happened. “I have resolved,” he said. “But still tell me what it was +which induced you to resolve; for if you have resolved rightly, we shall sit +with you and assist you to depart, but if you have made an unreasonable +resolution, change your mind.” “We ought to keep to our determinations.” “What +are you doing, man? We ought to keep not to all our determinations, but to +those which are right; for if you are now persuaded that it is right, do not +change your mind, if you think fit, but persist and say, We ought to abide by +our determinations. Will you not make the beginning and lay the foundation in +an inquiry whether the determination is sound or not sound, and so then build +on it firmness and security? But if you lay a rotten and ruinous foundation, +will not your miserable little building fall down the sooner, the more and the +stronger are the materials which you shall lay on it? Without any reason would +you withdraw from us out of life a man who is a friend and a companion, a +citizen of the same city, both the great and the small city? Then while you are +committing murder and destroying a man who has done no wrong, do you say that +you ought to abide by your determinations? And if it ever in any way came into +your head to kill me, ought you to abide by your determinations?” +</p> + +<p> +Now this man was with difficulty persuaded to change his mind. But it is +impossible to convince some persons at present; so that I seem now to know what +I did not know before, the meaning of the common saying, that you can neither +persuade nor break a fool. May it never be my lot to have a wise fool for my +friend; nothing is more untractable. “I am determined,” the man says. Madmen +are also, but the more firmly they form a judgment on things which do not +exist, the more hellebore they require. Will you not act like a sick man and +call in the physician?—I am sick, master, help me; consider what I must do: it +is my duty to obey you. So it is here also: I know not what I ought to do, but +I am come to learn.—Not so; but speak to me about other things: upon this I +have determined.—What other things? for what is greater and more useful than +for you to be persuaded that it is not sufficient to have made your +determination and not to change it. This is the tone (energy) of madness, not +of health.—I will die, if you compel me to this.—Why, man? What has happened?—I +have determined—I have had a lucky escape that you have not determined to kill +me—I take no money. Why?—I have determined—Be assured that with the very tone +(energy) which you now use in refusing to take, there is nothing to hinder you +at some time from inclining without reason to take money, and then saying, I +have determined. As in a distempered body, subject to defluxions, the humor +inclines sometimes to these parts, and then to those, so too a sickly soul +knows not which way to incline; but if to this inclination and movement there +is added a tone (obstinate resolution), then the evil becomes past help and +cure. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WE DO NOT STRIVE TO USE OUR OPINIONS ABOUT GOOD AND EVIL.—Where is the +good? In the will. Where is the evil? In the will. Where is neither of them? In +those things which are independent of the will. Well then? Does any one among +us think of these lessons out of the schools? Does any one meditate (strive) by +himself to give an answer to things as in the case of questions?—Is it +day?—Yes.—Is it night?—No.—Well, is the number of stars even?—I cannot +say.—When money is shown (offered) to you, have you studied to make the proper +answer, that money is not a good thing? Have you practised yourself in these +answers, or only against sophisms? Why do you wonder then if in the cases which +you have studied, in those you have improved; but in those which you have not +studied, in those you remain the same? When the rhetorician knows that he has +written well, that he has committed to memory what he has written, and brings +an agreeable voice, why is he still anxious? Because he is not satisfied with +having studied. What then does he want? To be praised by the audience? For the +purpose then of being able to practise declamation he has been disciplined; but +with respect to praise and blame he has not been disciplined. For when did he +hear from any one what praise is, what blame is, what the nature of each is, +what kind of praise should be sought, or what kind of blame should be shunned? +And when did he practise this discipline which follows these words (things)? +Why then do you still wonder, if in the matters which a man has learned, there +he surpasses others, and in those in which he has not been disciplined, there +he is the same with the many. So the lute player knows how to play, sings well, +and has a fine dress, and yet he trembles when he enters on the stage; for +these matters he understands, but he does not know what a crowd is, nor the +shouts of a crowd, nor what ridicule is. Neither does he know what anxiety is, +whether it is our work or the work of another, whether it is possible to stop +it or not. For this reason if he has been praised, he leaves the theatre puffed +up, but if he has been ridiculed, the swollen bladder has been punctured and +subsides. +</p> + +<p> +This is the case also with ourselves. What do we admire? Externals. About what +things are we busy? Externals. And have we any doubt then why we fear or why we +are anxious? What then happens when we think the things, which are coming on +us, to be evils? It is not in our power not to be afraid, it is not in our +power not to be anxious. Then we say, Lord God, how shall I not be anxious? +Fool, have you not hands, did not God make them for you? Sit down now and pray +that your nose may not run. Wipe yourself rather and do not blame him. Well +then, has he given to you nothing in the present case? Has he not given to you +endurance? Has he not given to you magnanimity? Has he not given to you +manliness? When you have such hands do you still look for one who shall wipe +your nose? But we neither study these things nor care for them. Give me a man +who cares how he shall do anything, not for the obtaining of a thing, but who +cares about his own energy. What man, when he is walking about, cares for his +own energy? Who, when he is deliberating, cares about his own deliberation, and +not about obtaining that about which he deliberates? And if he succeeds, he is +elated and says, How well we have deliberated; did I not tell you, brother, +that it is impossible, when we have thought about anything, that it should not +turn out thus? But if the thing should turn out otherwise, the wretched man is +humbled; he knows not even what to say about what has taken place. Who among us +for the sake of this matter has consulted a seer? Who among us as to his +actions has not slept in indifference? Who? Give (name) to me one that I may +see the man whom I have long been looking for, who is truly noble and +ingenuous, whether young or old; name him. +</p> + +<p> +What then are the things which are heavy on us and disturb us? What else than +opinions? What else than opinions lies heavy upon him who goes away and leaves +his companions and friends and places and habits of life? Now little children, +for instance, when they cry on the nurse leaving them for a short time, forget +their sorrow if they receive a small cake. Do you choose then that we should +compare you to little children? No, by Zeus, for I do not wish to be pacified +by a small cake, but by right opinions. And what are these? Such as a man ought +to study all day, and not to be affected by anything that is not his own, +neither by companion nor place nor gymnasia, and not even by his own body, but +to remember the law and to have it before his eyes. And what is the divine law? +To keep a man’s own, not to claim that which belongs to others, but to use what +is given, and when it is not given, not to desire it; and when a thing is taken +away, to give it up readily and immediately, and to be thankful for the time +that a man has had the use of it, if you would not cry for your nurse and +mamma. For what matter does it make by what thing a man is subdued, and on what +he depends? In what respect are you better than he who cries for a girl, if you +grieve for a little gymnasium, and little porticos, and young men, and such +places of amusement? Another comes and laments that he shall no longer drink +the water of Dirce. Is the Marcian water worse than that of Dirce? But I was +used to the water of Dirce. And you in turn will be used to the other. Then if +you become attached to this also, cry for this too, and try to make a verse +like the verse of Euripides, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +The hot baths of Nero and the Marcian water. +</p> + +<p> +See how tragedy is made when common things happen to silly men. +</p> + +<p> +When then shall I see Athens again and the Acropolis? Wretch, are you not +content with what you see daily? Have you anything better or greater to see +than the sun, the moon, the stars, the whole earth, the sea? But if indeed you +comprehend Him who administers the whole, and carry him about in yourself, do +you still desire small stones and a beautiful rock? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE MUST ADAPT PRECONCEPTIONS TO PARTICULAR CASES.—What is the first +business of him who philosophizes? To throw away self-conceit ([Greek: +oiaesis]). For it is impossible for a man to begin to learn that which he +thinks that he knows. As to things then which ought to be done and ought not to +be done, and good and bad, and beautiful and ugly, all of us talking of them at +random go to the philosophers; and on these matters we praise, we censure, we +accuse, we blame, we judge and determine about principles honorable and +dishonorable. But why do we go to the philosophers? Because we wish to learn +what we do not think that we know. And what is this? Theorems. For we wish to +learn what philosophers say as being something elegant and acute; and some wish +to learn that they may get profit from what they learn. It is ridiculous then +to think that a person wishes to learn one thing, and will learn another; or +further, that a man will make proficiency in that which he does not learn. But +the many are deceived by this which deceived also the rhetorician Theopompus, +when he blames even Plato for wishing everything to be defined. For what does +he say? Did none of us before you use the words good or just, or do we utter +the sounds in an unmeaning and empty way without understanding what they +severally signify? Now who tells you, Theopompus, that we had not natural +notions of each of these things and preconceptions ([Greek: prolaepseis])? But +it is not possible to adapt preconceptions to their correspondent objects if we +have not distinguished (analyzed) them, and inquired what object must be +subjected to each preconception. You may make the same charge against +physicians also. For who among us did not use the words healthy and unhealthy +before Hippocrates lived, or did we utter these words as empty sounds? For we +have also a certain preconception of health, but we are not able to adapt it. +For this reason one says, Abstain from food; another says, Give food; another +says, Bleed; and another says, Use cupping. What is the reason? is it any other +than that a man cannot properly adapt the preconceptions of health to +particulars? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE SHOULD STRUGGLE AGAINST APPEARANCES.—Every habit and faculty is +maintained and increased by the corresponding actions: the habit of walking by +walking, the habit of running by running. If you would be a good reader, read; +if a writer, write. But when you shall not have read for thirty days in +succession, but have done something else, you will know the consequence. In the +same way, if you shall have lain down ten days, get up and attempt to make a +long walk, and you will see how your legs are weakened. Generally then if you +would make anything a habit, do it; if you would not make it a habit, do not do +it, but accustom yourself to do something else in place of it. +</p> + +<p> +So it is with respect to the affections of the soul: when you have been angry, +you must know that not only has this evil befallen you, but that you have also +increased the habit, and in a manner thrown fuel upon fire. +</p> + +<p> +In this manner certainly, as philosophers say, also diseases of the mind grow +up. For when you have once desired money, if reason be applied to lead to a +perception of the evil, the desire is stopped, and the ruling faculty of our +mind is restored to the original authority. But if you apply no means of cure, +it no longer returns to the same state, but being again excited by the +corresponding appearance, it is inflamed to desire quicker than before: and +when this takes place continually, it is henceforth hardened (made callous), +and the disease of the mind confirms the love of money. For he who has had a +fever, and has been relieved from it, is not in the same state that he was +before, unless he has been completely cured. Something of the kind happens also +in diseases of the soul. Certain traces and blisters are left in it, and unless +a man shall completely efface them, when he is again lashed on the same places, +the lash will produce not blisters (weals) but sores. If then you wish not to +be of an angry temper, do not feed the habit: throw nothing on it which will +increase it: at first keep quiet, and count the days on which you have not been +angry. I used to be in passion every day; now every second day; then every +third, then every fourth. But if you have intermitted thirty days, make a +sacrifice to God. For the habit at first begins to be weakened, and then is +completely destroyed. “I have not been vexed to-day, nor the day after, nor yet +on any succeeding day during two or three months; but I took care when some +exciting things happened.” Be assured that you are in a good way. +</p> + +<p> +How then shall this be done? Be willing at length to be approved by yourself, +be willing to appear beautiful to God, desire to be in purity with your own +pure self and with God. Then when any such appearance visits you, Plato says, +Have recourse to expiations, go a suppliant to the temples of the averting +deities. It is even sufficient if you resort to the society of noble and just +men, and compare yourself with them, whether you find one who is living or +dead. +</p> + +<p> +But in the first place, be not hurried away by the rapidity of the appearance, +but say, Appearances, wait for me a little; let me see who you are, and what +you are about; let me put you to the test. And then do not allow the appearance +to lead you on and draw lively pictures of the things which will follow; for if +you do, it will carry you off wherever it pleases. But rather bring in to +oppose it some other beautiful and noble appearance, and cast out this base +appearance. And if you are accustomed to be exercised in this way, you will see +what shoulders, what sinews, what strength you have. But now it is only +trifling words, and nothing more. +</p> + +<p> +This is the true athlete, the man who exercises himself against such +appearances. Stay, wretch, do not be carried away. Great is the combat, divine +is the work; it is for kingship, for freedom, for happiness, for freedom from +perturbation. Remember God; call on him as a helper and protector, as men at +sea call on the Dioscuri in a storm. For what is a greater storm than that +which comes from appearances which are violent and drive away the reason? For +the storm itself, what else is it but an appearance? For take away the fear of +death, and suppose as many thunders and lightnings as you please, and you will +know what calm and serenity there is in the ruling faculty. But if you have +once been defeated and say that you will conquer hereafter, and then say the +same again, be assured that you will at last be in so wretched a condition and +so weak that you will not even know afterwards that you are doing wrong, but +you will even begin to make apologies (defences) for your wrong-doing, and then +you will confirm the saying of Hesiod to be true, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +With constant ills the dilatory strives. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF INCONSISTENCY.—Some things men readily confess, and other things they do +not. No one then will confess that he is a fool or without understanding; but +quite the contrary you will hear all men saying, I wish that I had fortune +equal to my understanding. But men readily confess that they are timid, and +they say: I am rather timid, I confess; but as to other respects you will not +find me to be foolish. A man will not readily confess that he is intemperate; +and that he is unjust, he will not confess at all. He will by no means confess +that he is envious or a busybody. Most men will confess that they are +compassionate. What then is the reason? +</p> + +<p> +The chief thing (the ruling thing) is inconsistency and confusion in the things +which relate to good and evil. But different men have different reasons; and +generally what they imagine to be base, they do not confess at all. But they +suppose timidity to be a characteristic of a good disposition, and compassion +also; but silliness to be the absolute characteristic of a slave. And they do +not at all admit (confess) the things which are offences against society. But +in the case of most errors for this reason chiefly they are induced to confess +them, because they imagine that there is something involuntary in them as in +timidity and compassion; and if a man confess that he is in any respect +intemperate, he alleges love (or passion) as an excuse for what is involuntary. +But men do not imagine injustice to be at all involuntary. There is also in +jealousy, as they suppose, something involuntary; and for this reason they +confess to jealousy also. +</p> + +<p> +Living then among such men, who are so confused, so ignorant of what they say, +and of the evils which they have or have not, and why they have them, or how +they shall be relieved of them, I think it is worth the trouble for a man to +watch constantly (and to ask) whether I also am one of them, what imagination I +have about myself, how I conduct myself, whether I conduct myself as a prudent +man, whether I conduct myself as a temperate man, whether I ever say this, that +I have been taught to be prepared for everything that may happen. Have I the +consciousness, which a man who knows nothing ought to have, that I know +nothing? Do I go to my teacher as men go to oracles, prepared to obey? or do I +like a snivelling boy go to my school to learn history and understand the books +which I did not understand before, and, if it should happen so, to explain them +also to others? Man, you have had a fight in the house with a poor slave, you +have turned the family upside down, you have frightened the neighbors, and you +come to me as if you were a wise man, and you take your seat and judge how I +have explained some word, and how I have babbled whatever came into my head. +You come full of envy, and humbled, because you bring nothing from home; and +you sit during the discussion thinking of nothing else than how your father is +disposed towards you and your brother. What are they saying about me there? now +they think that I am improving, and are saying, He will return with all +knowledge. I wish I could learn everything before I return; but much labor is +necessary, and no one sends me anything, and the baths at Nicopolis are dirty; +everything is bad at home, and bad here. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON FRIENDSHIP.—What a man applies himself to earnestly, that he naturally +loves. Do men then apply themselves earnestly to the things which are bad? By +no means. Well, do they apply themselves to things which in no way concern +themselves? Not to these either. It remains then that they employ themselves +earnestly only about things which are good; and if they are earnestly employed +about things, they love such things also. Whoever then understands what is good +can also know how to love; but he who cannot distinguish good from bad, and +things which are neither good nor bad from both, how can he possess the power +of loving? To love, then, is only in the power of the wise. +</p> + +<p> +For universally, be not deceived, every animal is attached to nothing so much +as to its own interests. Whatever then appears to it an impediment to this +interest, whether this be a brother, or a father, or a child, or beloved, or +lover, it hates, spurns, curses; for its nature is to love nothing so much as +its own interests: this is father, and brother, and kinsman, and country, and +God. When then the gods appear to us to be an impediment to this, we abuse them +and throw down their statues and burn their temples, as Alexander ordered the +temples of Aesculapius to be burned when his dear friend died. +</p> + +<p> +For this reason, if a man put in the same place his interest, sanctity, +goodness, and country, and parents, and friends, all these are secured: but if +he puts in one place his interest, in another his friends, and his country and +his kinsmen and justice itself, all these give way, being borne down by the +weight of interest. For where the I and the Mine are placed, to that place of +necessity the animal inclines; if in the flesh, there is the ruling power; if +in the will, it is there; and if it is in externals, it is there. If then I am +there where my will is, then only shall I be a friend such as I ought to be, +and son, and father; for this will be my interest, to maintain the character of +fidelity, of modesty, of patience, of abstinence, of active co-operation, of +observing my relations (towards all). But if I put myself in one place, and +honesty in another, then the doctrine of Epicurus becomes strong, which asserts +either that there is no honesty or it is that which opinion holds to be honest +(virtuous). +</p> + +<p> +It was through this ignorance that the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians +quarrelled, and the Thebans with both; and the great king quarrelled with +Hellas, and the Macedonians with both: and the Romans with the Getae. And still +earlier the Trojan war happened for these reasons. Alexander was the guest of +Menelaus, and if any man had seen their friendly disposition, he would not have +believed any one who said that they were not friends. But there was cast +between them (as between dogs) a bit of meat, a handsome woman, and about her +war arose. And now when you see brothers to be friends appearing to have one +mind, do not conclude from this anything about their friendship, not even if +they swear it and say that it is impossible for them to be separated from one +another. For the ruling principle of a bad man cannot be trusted; it is +insecure, has no certain rule by which it is directed, and is overpowered at +different times by different appearances. But examine, not what other men +examine, if they are born of the same parents and brought up together, and +under the same pedagogue; but examine this only, wherein they place their +interest, whether in externals or in the will. If in externals, do not name +them friends, no more than name them trustworthy or constant, or brave or free; +do not name them even men, if you have any judgment. For that is not a +principle of human nature which makes them bite one another, and abuse one +another, and occupy deserted places or public places, as if they were +mountains, and in the courts of justice display the acts of robbers; nor yet +that which makes them intemperate and adulterers and corrupters, nor that which +makes them do whatever else men do against one another through this one opinion +only, that of placing themselves and their interests in the things which are +not within the power of their will. But if you hear that in truth these men +think the good to be only there, where will is, and where there is a right use +of appearances, no longer trouble yourself whether they are father or son, or +brothers, or have associated a long time and are companions, but when you have +ascertained this only, confidently declare that they are friends, as you +declare that they are faithful, that they are just. For where else is +friendship than where there is fidelity, and modesty, where there is a +communion of honest things and of nothing else. +</p> + +<p> +But you may say, Such a one treated me with regard so long; and did he not love +me? How do you know, slave, if he did not regard you in the same way as he +wipes his shoes with a sponge, or as he takes care of his beast? How do you +know, when you have ceased to be useful as a vessel, he will not throw you away +like a broken platter? But this woman is my wife, and we have lived together so +long. And how long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus, and was the mother of +children and of many? But a necklace came between them: and what is a necklace? +It is the opinion about such things. That was the bestial principle, that was +the thing which broke asunder the friendship between husband and wife, that +which did not allow the woman to be a wife nor the mother to be a mother. And +let every man among you who has seriously resolved either to be a friend +himself or to have another for his friend, cut out these opinions, hate them, +drive them from his soul. And thus first of all he will not reproach himself, +he will not be at variance with himself, he will not change his mind, he will +not torture himself. In the next place, to another also, who is like himself, +he will be altogether and completely a friend. But he will bear with the man +who is unlike himself, he will be kind to him, gentle, ready to pardon on +account of his ignorance, on account of his being mistaken in things of the +greatest importance; but he will be harsh to no man, being well convinced of +Plato’s doctrine that every mind is deprived of truth unwillingly. If you +cannot do this, yet you can do in all other respects as friends do, drink +together, and lodge together, and sail together, and you may be born of the +same parents, for snakes also are: but neither will they be friends, nor you, +so long as you retain these bestial and cursed opinions. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON THE POWER OF SPEAKING.—Every man will read a book with more pleasure or even +with more ease, if it is written in fairer characters. Therefore every man will +also listen more readily to what is spoken, if it is signified by appropriate +and becoming words. We must not say then that there is no faculty of +expression: for this affirmation is the characteristic of an impious and also +of a timid man. Of an impious man, because he undervalues the gifts which come +from God, just as if he would take away the commodity of the power of vision, +or hearing, or of seeing. Has then God given you eyes to no purpose? and to no +purpose has he infused into them a spirit so strong and of such skilful +contrivance as to reach a long way and to fashion the forms of things which are +seen? What messenger is so swift and vigilant? And to no purpose has he made +the interjacent atmosphere so efficacious and elastic that the vision +penetrates through the atmosphere which is in a manner moved? And to no purpose +has he made light, without the presence of which there would be no use in any +other thing? +</p> + +<p> +Man, be neither ungrateful for these gifts nor yet forget the things which are +superior to them. But indeed for the power of seeing and hearing, and indeed +for life itself, and for the things which contribute to support it, for the +fruits which are dry, and for wine and oil give thanks to God: but remember +that he has given you something else better than all these, I mean the power of +using them, proving them, and estimating the value of each. For what is that +which gives information about each of these powers, what each of them is worth? +Is it each faculty itself? Did you ever hear the faculty of vision saying +anything about itself? or the faculty of hearing? or wheat, or barley, or a +horse, or a dog? No; but they are appointed as ministers and slaves to serve +the faculty which has the power of making use of the appearances of things. And +if you inquire what is the value of each thing, of whom do you inquire? who +answers you? How then can any other faculty be more powerful than this, which +uses the rest as ministers and itself proves each and pronounces about them? +for which of them knows what itself is, and what is its own value? which of +them knows when it ought to employ itself and when not? what faculty is it +which opens and closes the eyes, and turns them away from objects to which it +ought not to apply them and does apply them to other objects? Is it the faculty +of vision? No, but it is the faculty of the will. What is that faculty which +closes and opens the ears? what is that by which they are curious and +inquisitive, or on the contrary unmoved by what is said? is it the faculty of +hearing? It is no other than the faculty of the will. Will this faculty then, +seeing that it is amidst all the other faculties which are blind and dumb and +unable to see anything else except the very acts for which they are appointed +in order to minister to this (faculty) and serve it, but this faculty alone +sees sharp and sees what is the value of each of the rest; will this faculty +declare to us that anything else is the best, or that itself is? And what else +does the eye do when it is opened than see? But whether we ought to look on the +wife of a certain person, and in what manner, who tells us? The faculty of the +will. And whether we ought to believe what is said or not to believe it, and if +we do believe, whether we ought to be moved by it or not, who tells us? Is it +not the faculty of the will? +</p> + +<p> +But if you ask me what then is the most excellent of all things, what must I +say? I cannot say the power of speaking, but the power of the will, when it is +right ([Greek: orthae]). For it is this which uses the other (the power of +speaking), and all the other faculties both small and great. For when this +faculty of the will is set right, a man who is not good becomes good: but when +it fails, a man becomes bad. It is through this that we are unfortunate, that +we are fortunate, that we blame one another, are pleased with one another. In a +word, it is this which if we neglect it makes unhappiness, and if we carefully +look after it, makes happiness. +</p> + +<p> +What then is usually done? Men generally act as a traveller would do on his way +to his own country, when he enters a good inn, and being pleased with it should +remain there. Man, you have forgotten your purpose: you were not travelling to +this inn, but you were passing through it. But this is a pleasant inn. And how +many other inns are pleasant? and how many meadows are pleasant? yet only for +passing through. But your purpose is this, to return to your country, to +relieve your kinsmen of anxiety, to discharge the duties of a citizen, to +marry, to beget children, to fill the usual magistracies. For you are not come +to select more pleasant places, but to live in these where you were born and of +which you were made a citizen. Something of the kind takes place in the matter +which we are considering. Since by the aid of speech and such communication as +you receive here you must advance to perfection, and purge your will and +correct the faculty which makes use of the appearances of things; and since it +is necessary also for the teaching (delivery) of theorems to be effected by a +certain mode of expression and with a certain variety and sharpness, some +persons captivated by these very things abide in them, one captivated by the +expression, another by syllogisms, another again by sophisms, and still another +by some other inn ([Greek: paudocheiou]) of the kind; and there they stay and +waste away as they were among sirens. +</p> + +<p> +Man, your purpose (business) was to make yourself capable of using conformably +to nature the appearances presented to you, in your desires not to be +frustrated, in your aversion from things not to fall into that which you would +avoid, never to have no luck (as one may say), nor ever to have bad luck, to be +free, not hindered, not compelled, conforming yourself to the administration of +Zeus, obeying it, well satisfied with this, blaming no one, charging no one +with fault, able from your whole soul to utter these verses: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Lead me, O Zeus, and thou too Destiny. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO (OR AGAINST) A PERSON WHO WAS ONE OF THOSE WHO WERE NOT VALUED (ESTEEMED) BY +HIM.—A certain person said to him (Epictetus): Frequently I desired to hear you +and came to you, and you never gave me any answer; and now, if it is possible, +I entreat you to say something to me. Do you think, said Epictetus, that as +there is an art in anything else, so there is also an art in speaking, and that +he who has the art, will speak skilfully, and he who has not, will speak +unskilfully?—I do think so.—He then who by speaking receives benefit himself, +and is able to benefit others, will speak skilfully; but he who is rather +damaged by speaking and does damage to others, will he be unskilled in this art +of speaking? And you may find that some are damaged and others benefited by +speaking. And are all who hear benefited by what they hear? Or will you find +that among them also some are benefited and some damaged? There are both among +these also, he said. In this case also then those who hear skilfully are +benefited, and those who hear unskilfully are damaged? He admitted this. Is +there then a skill in hearing also, as there is in speaking? It seems so. If +you choose, consider the matter in this way also. The practice of music, to +whom does it belong? To a musician. And the proper making of a statue, to whom +do you think that it belongs? To a statuary. And the looking at a statue +skilfully, does this appear to you to require the aid of no art? This also +requires the aid of art. Then if speaking properly is the business of the +skilful man, do you see that to hear also with benefit is the business of the +skilful man? Now as to speaking and hearing perfectly, and usefully, let us for +the present, if you please, say no more, for both of us are a long way from +everything of the kind. But I think that every man will allow this, that he who +is going to hear philosophers requires some amount of practice in hearing. Is +it not so? +</p> + +<p> +Why then do you say nothing to me? I can only say this to you, that he who +knows not who he is, and for what purpose he exists, and what is this world, +and with whom he is associated, and what things are the good and the bad, and +the beautiful and the ugly, and who neither understands discourse nor +demonstration, nor what is true nor what is false, and who is not able to +distinguish them, will neither desire according to nature nor turn away nor +move towards, nor intend (to act), nor assent, nor dissent, nor suspend his +judgment: to say all in a few words, he will go about dumb and blind, thinking +that he is somebody, but being nobody. Is this so now for the first time? Is it +not the fact that ever since the human race existed, all errors and misfortunes +have arisen through this ignorance? +</p> + +<p> +This is all that I have to say to you; and I say even this not willingly. Why? +Because you have not roused me. For what must I look to in order to be roused, +as men who are expert in riding are roused by generous horses? Must I look to +your body? You treat it disgracefully. To your dress? That is luxurious. To +your behavior, to your look? That is the same as nothing. When you would listen +to a philosopher, do not say to him, You tell me nothing; but only show +yourself worthy of hearing or fit for hearing; and you will see how you will +move the speaker. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT LOGIC IS NECESSARY.—When one of those who were present said, Persuade me +that logic is necessary, he replied, Do you wish me to prove this to you? The +answer was, Yes. Then I must use a demonstrative form of speech. This was +granted. How then will you know if I am cheating you by my argument? The man +was silent. Do you see, said Epictetus, that you yourself are admitting that +logic is necessary, if without it you cannot know so much as this, whether +logic is necessary or not necessary? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +OF FINERY IN DRESS.—A certain young man, a rhetorician, came to see Epictetus, +with his hair dressed more carefully than was usual and his attire in an +ornamental style; whereupon Epictetus said, Tell me if you do not think that +some dogs are beautiful and some horses, and so of all other animals. I do +think so, the youth replied. Are not then some men also beautiful and others +ugly? Certainly. Do we then for the same reason call each of them in the same +kind beautiful, or each beautiful for something peculiar? And you will judge of +this matter thus. Since we see a dog naturally formed for one thing, and a +horse for another, and for another still, as an example, a nightingale, we may +generally and not improperly declare each of them to be beautiful then when it +is most excellent according to its nature; but since the nature of each is +different, each of them seems to me to be beautiful in a different way. Is it +not so? He admitted that it was. That then which makes a dog beautiful, makes a +horse ugly; and that which makes a horse beautiful, makes a dog ugly, if it is +true that their natures are different. It seems to be so. For I think that what +makes a Pancratiast beautiful, makes a wrestler to be not good, and a runner to +be most ridiculous; and he who is beautiful for the Pentathlon, is very ugly +for wrestling. It is so, said he. What then makes a man beautiful? Is it that +which in its kind makes both a dog and a horse beautiful? It is, he said. What +then makes a dog beautiful? The possession of the excellence of a dog. And what +makes a horse beautiful? The possession of the excellence of a horse. What then +makes a man beautiful? Is it not the possession of the excellence of a man? And +do you then, if you wish to be beautiful, young man, labor at this, the +acquisition of human excellence? But what is this? Observe whom you yourself +praise, when you praise many persons without partiality: do you praise the just +or the unjust? The just. Whether do you praise the moderate or the immoderate? +The moderate. And the temperate or the intemperate? The temperate. If then you +make yourself such a person, you will know that you will make yourself +beautiful; but so long as you neglect these things, you must be ugly ([Greek: +aischron]), even though you contrive all you can to appear beautiful. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +IN WHAT A MAN OUGHT TO BE EXERCISED WHO HAS MADE PROFICIENCY; AND THAT WE +NEGLECT THE CHIEF THINGS.—There are three things (topics, [Greek: topoi]) in +which a man ought to exercise himself who would be wise and good. The first +concerns the desires and the aversions, that a man may not fail to get what he +desires, and that he may not fall into that which he does not desire. The +second concerns the movements towards an object and the movements from an +object, and generally in doing what a man ought to do, that he may act +according to order, to reason, and not carelessly. The third thing concerns +freedom from deception and rashness in judgment, and generally it concerns the +assents ([Greek: sugchatatheseis]). Of these topics the chief and the most +urgent is that which relates to the affects ([Greek: ta pathae] perturbations); +for an affect is produced in no other way than by a failing to obtain that +which a man desires or falling into that which a man would wish to avoid. This +is that which brings in perturbations, disorders, bad fortune, misfortunes, +sorrows, lamentations, and envy; that which makes men envious and jealous; and +by these causes we are unable even to listen to the precepts of reason. The +second topic concerns the duties of a man; for I ought not to be free from +affects ([Greek: apathae]) like a statue, but I ought to maintain the relations +([Greek: scheseis]) natural and acquired, as a pious man, as a son, as a +father, as a citizen. +</p> + +<p> +The third topic is that which immediately concerns those who are making +proficiency, that which concerns the security of the other two, so that not +even in sleep any appearance unexamined may surprise us, nor in intoxication, +nor in melancholy. This, it may be said, is above our power. But the present +philosophers neglecting the first topic and the second (the affects and +duties), employ themselves on the third, using sophistical arguments ([Greek: +metapiptontas]), making conclusions from questioning, employing hypotheses, +lying. For a man must, it is said, when employed on these matters, take care +that he is not deceived. Who must? The wise and good man. This then is all that +is wanting to you. Have you successfully worked out the rest? Are you free from +deception in the matter of money? If you see a beautiful girl do you resist the +appearance? If your neighbor obtains an estate by will, are you not vexed? Now +is there nothing else wanting to you except unchangeable firmness of mind +([Greek: ametaptosia])? Wretch, you hear these very things with fear and +anxiety that some person may despise you, and with inquiries about what any +person may say about you. And if a man come and tell you that in a certain +conversation in which the question was, Who is the best philosopher, a man who +was present said that a certain person was the chief philosopher, your little +soul which was only a finger’s length stretches out to two cubits. But if +another who is present says, You are mistaken; it is not worth while to listen +to a certain person, for what does he know? he has only the first principles, +and no more? then you are confounded, you grow pale, you cry out immediately, I +will show him who I am, that I am a great philosopher. It is seen by these very +things: why do you wish to show it by others? Do you not know that Diogenes +pointed out one of the sophists in this way by stretching out his middle +finger? And then when the man was wild with rage, This, he said, is the certain +person: I have pointed him out to you. For a man is not shown by the finger, as +a stone or a piece of wood; but when any person shows the man’s principles, +then he shows him as a man. +</p> + +<p> +Let us look at your principles also. For is it not plain that you value not at +all your own will ([Greek: proairesis]), but you look externally to things +which are independent of your will? For instance, what will a certain person +say? and what will people think of you? Will you be considered a man of +learning; have you read Chrysippus or Antipater? for if you have read +Archedamus also, you have every thing (that you can desire). Why you are still +uneasy lest you should not show us who you are? Would you let me tell you what +manner of man you have shown us that you are? You have exhibited yourself to us +as a mean fellow, querulous, passionate, cowardly, finding fault with +everything, blaming everybody, never quiet, vain: this is what you have +exhibited to us. Go away now and read Archedamus; then if a mouse should leap +down and make a noise, you are a dead man. For such a death awaits you as it +did—what was the man’s name—Crinis; and he too was proud, because he understood +Archedamus. Wretch, will you not dismiss these things that do not concern you +at all? These things are suitable to those who are able to learn them without +perturbation, to those who can say: “I am not subject to anger, to grief, to +envy: I am not hindered, I am not restrained. What remains for me? I have +leisure, I am tranquil: let us see how we must deal with sophistical arguments; +let us see how when a man has accepted an hypothesis he shall not be led away +to any thing absurd.” To them such things belong. To those who are happy it is +appropriate to light a fire, to dine; if they choose, both to sing and to +dance. But when the vessel is sinking, you come to me and hoist the sails. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +WHAT IS THE MATTER ON WHICH A GOOD MAN SHOULD BE EMPLOYED, AND IN WHAT WE OUGHT +CHIEFLY TO PRACTISE OURSELVES.—The material for the wise and good man is his +own ruling faculty: and the body is the material for the physician and the +aliptes (the man who oils persons); the land is the matter for the husbandman. +The business of the wise and good man is to use appearances conformably to +nature: and as it is the nature of every soul to assent to the truth, to +dissent from the false, and to remain in suspense as to that which is +uncertain; so it is its nature to be moved towards the desire for the good, and +to aversion from the evil; and with respect to that which is neither good nor +bad it feels indifferent. For as the money-changer (banker) is not allowed to +reject Cæsar’s coin, nor the seller of herbs, but if you show the coin, whether +he chooses or not, he must give up what is sold for the coin; so it is also in +the matter of the soul. When the good appears, it immediately attracts to +itself; the evil repels from itself. But the soul will never reject the +manifest appearance of the good, any more than persons will reject Cæsar’s +coin. On this principle depends every movement both of man and God. +</p> + +<p> +Against (or with respect to) this kind of thing chiefly a man should exercise +himself. As soon as you go out in the morning, examine every man whom you see, +every man whom you hear; answer as to a question, What have you seen? A +handsome man or woman? Apply the rule. Is this independent of the will, or +dependent? Independent. Take it away. What have you seen? A man lamenting over +the death of a child. Apply the rule. Death is a thing independent of the will. +Take it away. Has the proconsul met you? Apply the rule. What kind of a thing +is a proconsul’s office? Independent of the will or dependent on it? +Independent. Take this away also; it does not stand examination; cast it away; +it is nothing to you. +</p> + +<p> +If we practised this and exercised ourselves in it daily from morning to night, +something indeed would be done. But now we are forthwith caught half asleep by +every appearance, and it is only, if ever, that in the school we are roused a +little. Then when we go out, if we see a man lamenting, we say, He is undone. +If we see a consul, we say, He is happy. If we see an exiled man, we say, He is +miserable. If we see a poor man, we say, He is wretched; he has nothing to eat. +</p> + +<p> +We ought then to eradicate these bad opinions, and to this end we should direct +all our efforts. For what is weeping and lamenting? Opinion. What is bad +fortune? Opinion. What is civil sedition, what is divided opinion, what is +blame, what is accusation, what is impiety, what is trifling? All these things +are opinions, and nothing more, and opinions about things independent of the +will, as if they were good and bad. Let a man transfer these opinions to things +dependent on the will, and I engage for him that he will be firm and constant, +whatever may be the state of things around him. Such as is a dish of water, +such is the soul. Such as is the ray of light which falls on the water, such +are the appearances. When the water is moved, the ray also seems to be moved, +yet it is not moved. And when then a man is seized with giddiness, it is not +the arts and the virtues which are confounded, but the spirit (the nervous +power) on which they are impressed; but if the spirit be restored to its +settled state, those things also are restored. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +MISCELLANEOUS.—When some person asked him how it happened that since reason has +been more cultivated by the men of the present age, the progress made in former +times was greater. In what respect, he answered, has it been more cultivated +now, and in what respect was the progress greater then? For in that in which it +has now been more cultivated, in that also the progress will now be found. At +present it has been cultivated for the purpose of resolving syllogisms, and +progress is made. But in former times it was cultivated for the purpose of +maintaining the governing faculty in a condition conformable to nature, and +progress was made. Do not then mix things which are different, and do not +expect, when you are laboring at one thing to make progress in another. But see +if any man among us when he is intent upon this, the keeping himself in a state +conformable to nature and living so always, does not make progress. For you +will not find such a man. +</p> + +<p> +It is not easy to exhort weak young men; for neither is it easy to hold (soft) +cheese with a hook. But those who have a good natural disposition, even if you +try to turn them aside, cling still more to reason. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO THE ADMINISTRATOR OF THE FREE CITIES WHO WAS AN EPICUREAN.—When the +administrator came to visit him, and the man was an Epicurean, Epictetus said, +It is proper for us who are not philosophers to inquire of you who are +philosophers, as those who come to a strange city inquire of the citizens and +those who are acquainted with it, what is the best thing in the world, in order +that we also after inquiry may go in quest of that which is best and look at +it, as strangers do with the things in cities. For that there are three things +which relate to man—soul, body, and things external, scarcely any man denies. +It remains for you philosophers to answer what is the best. What shall we say +to men? Is the flesh the best? and was it for this that Maximus sailed as far +as Cassiope in winter (or bad weather) with his son, and accompanied him that +he might be gratified in the flesh? When the man said that it was not, and +added, Far be that from him. Is it not fit then, Epictetus said, to be actively +employed about the best? It is certainly of all things the most fit. What then +do we possess which is better than the flesh? The soul, he replied. And the +good things of the best, are they better, or the good things of the worse? The +good things of the best. And are the good things of the best within the power +of the will or not within the power of the will? They are within the power of +the will. Is then the pleasure of the soul a thing within the power of the +will? It is, he replied. And on what shall this pleasure depend? On itself? But +that cannot be conceived; for there must first exist a certain substance or +nature ([Greek: ousia]) of good, by obtaining which we shall have pleasure in +the soul. He assented to this also. On what then shall we depend for this +pleasure of the soul? for if it shall depend on things of the soul, the +substance (nature) of the good is discovered; for good cannot be one thing, and +that at which we are rationally delighted another thing; nor if that which +precedes is not good, can that which comes after be good, for in order that the +thing which comes after may be good, that which precedes must be good. But you +would not affirm this, if you are in your right mind, for you would then say +what is inconsistent both with Epicurus and the rest of your doctrines. It +remains then that the pleasure of the soul is in the pleasure from things of +the body; and again that those bodily things must be the things which precede +and the substance (nature) of the good. +</p> + +<p> +Seek for doctrines which are consistent with what I say, and by making them +your guide you will with pleasure abstain from things which have such +persuasive power to lead us and overpower us. But if to the persuasive power of +these things, we also devise such a philosophy as this which helps to push us +on towards them and strengthens us to this end, what will be the consequence? +In a piece of toreutic art which is the best part? the silver or the +workmanship? The substance of the hand is the flesh; but the work of the hand +is the principal part (that which precedes and leads the rest). The duties then +are also three: those which are directed towards the existence of a thing; +those which are directed towards its existence in a particular kind; and third, +the chief or leading things themselves. So also in man we ought not to value +the material, the poor flesh, but the principal (leading things, [Greek: ta +proaegoumena]). What are these? Engaging in public business, marrying, +begetting children, venerating God, taking care of parents, and generally, +having desires, aversions ([Greek: echchlinein]), pursuits of things and +avoidances, in the way in which we ought to do these things, and according to +our nature. And how are we constituted by nature? Free, noble, modest; for what +other animal blushes? what other is capable of receiving the appearance (the +impression) of shame? and we are so constituted by nature as to subject +pleasure to these things, as a minister, a servant, in order that it may call +forth our activity, in order that it may keep us constant in acts which are +conformable to nature. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +HOW WE MUST EXERCISE OURSELVES AGAINST APPEARANCES ([Greek: phantasias]).—As we +exercise ourselves against sophistical questions, so we ought to exercise +ourselves daily against appearances; for these appearances also propose +questions to us. A certain person’s son is dead. Answer; the thing is not +within the power of the will: it is not an evil. A father has disinherited a +certain son. What do you think of it? It is a thing beyond the power of the +will, not an evil. Cæsar has condemned a person. It is a thing beyond the power +of the will, not an evil. The man is afflicted at this. Affliction is a thing +which depends on the will: it is an evil. He has borne the condemnation +bravely. That is a thing within the power of the will: it is a good. If we +train ourselves in this manner, we shall make progress; for we shall never +assent to anything of which there is not an appearance capable of being +comprehended. Your son is dead. What has happened? Your son is dead. Nothing +more? Nothing. Your ship is lost. What has happened? Your ship is lost. A man +has been led to prison. What has happened? He has been led to prison. But that +herein he has fared badly, every man adds from his own opinion. But Zeus, you +say, does not do right in these matters. Why? because he has made you capable +of endurance? because he has made you magnanimous? because he has taken from +that which befalls you the power of being evils? because it is in your power to +be happy while you are suffering what you suffer? because he has opened the +door to you, when things do not please you? Man, go out and do not complain! +</p> + +<p> +Hear how the Romans feel towards philosophers, if you would like to know. +Italicus, who was the most in repute of the philosophers, once when I was +present, being vexed with his own friends and as if he was suffering something +intolerable, said: “I cannot bear it, you are killing me; you will make me such +as that man is,” pointing to me. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO A CERTAIN RHETORICIAN WHO WAS GOING UP TO ROME ON A SUIT.—When a certain +person came to him, who was going up to Rome on account of a suit which had +regard to his rank, Epictetus inquired the reason of his going to Rome, and the +man then asked what he thought about the matter. Epictetus replied: If you ask +me what you will do in Rome, whether you will succeed or fail, I have no rule +([Greek: theoraema]) about this. But if you ask me how you will fare, I can +tell you: if you have right opinions ([Greek: dogmata]), you will fare well; if +they are false, you will fare ill. For to every man the cause of his acting is +opinion. For what is the reason why you desired to be elected governor of the +Cnossians? Your opinion. What is the reason that you are now going up to Rome? +Your opinion. And going in winter, and with danger and expense? I must go. What +tells you this? Your opinion. Then if opinions are the causes of all actions, +and a man has bad opinions, such as the cause may be, such also is the effect! +Have we then all sound opinions, both you and your adversary? And how do you +differ? But have you sounder opinions than your adversary? Why? You think so. +And so does he think that his opinions are better; and so do madmen. This is a +bad criterion. But show to me that you have made some inquiry into your +opinions and have taken some pains about them. And as now you are sailing to +Rome in order to become governor of the Cnossians, and you are not content to +stay at home with the honors which you had, but you desire something greater +and more conspicuous, so when did you ever make a voyage for the purpose of +examining your own opinions, and casting them out, if you have any that are +bad? Whom have you approached for this purpose? What time have you fixed for +it? What age? Go over the times of your life by yourself, if you are ashamed of +me (knowing the fact) when you were a boy, did you examine your own opinions? +and did you not then, as you do all things now, do as you did do? and when you +were become a youth and attended the rhetoricians, and yourself practised +rhetoric, what did you imagine that you were deficient in? And when you were a +young man and engaged in public matters, and pleaded causes yourself, and were +gaining reputation, who then seemed your equal? And when would you have +submitted to any man examining and showing that your opinions are bad? What +then do you wish me to say to you? Help me in this matter. I have no theorem +(rule) for this. Nor have you, if you came to me for this purpose, come to me +as a philosopher, but as to a seller of vegetables or a shoemaker. For what +purpose then have philosophers theorems? For this purpose, that whatever may +happen, our ruling faculty may be and continue to be conformable to nature. +Does this seem to you a small thing? No; but the greatest. What then? does it +need only a short time? and is it possible to seize it as you pass by? If you +can, seize it. +</p> + +<p> +Then you will say, I met with Epictetus as I should meet with a stone or a +statue: for you saw me and nothing more. But he meets with a man as a man, who +learns his opinions, and in his turn shows his own. Learn my opinions: show me +yours; and then say that you have visited me. Let us examine one another: if I +have any bad opinion, take it away; if you have any, show it. This is the +meaning of meeting with a philosopher. Not so (you say): but this is only a +passing visit, and while we are hiring the vessel, we can also see Epictetus. +Let us see what he says. Then you go away and say: Epictetus was nothing; he +used solecisms and spoke in a barbarous way. For of what else do you come as +judges? Well, but a man may say to me, if I attend to such matters (as you do), +I shall have no land as you have none; I shall have no silver cups as you have +none, nor fine beasts as you have none. In answer to tins it is perhaps +sufficient to say: I have no need of such things; but if you possess many +things you have need of others: whether you choose or not, you are poorer than +I am. What then have I need of? Of that which you have not? of firmness, of a +mind which is conformable to nature, of being free from perturbation. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +IN WHAT MANNER WE OUGHT TO BEAR SICKNESS.—When the need of each opinion comes, +we ought to have it in readiness: on the occasion of breakfast, such opinions +as relate to breakfast; in the bath, those that concern the bath; in bed, those +that concern bed. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Let sleep not come upon thy languid eyes<br/> +Before each daily action thou hast scann’d;<br/> +What’s done amiss, what done, what left undone;<br/> +From first to last examine all, and then<br/> +Blame what is wrong, in what is right rejoice. +</p> + +<p> +And we ought to retain these verses in such way that we may use them, not that +we may utter them aloud, as when we exclaim, “Paean Apollo.” Again in fever we +should have ready such opinions as concern a fever; and we ought not, as soon +as the fever begins, to lose and forget all. A man who has a fever may say: If +I philosophize any longer, may I be hanged: wherever I go, I must take care of +the poor body, that a fever may not come. But what is philosophizing? Is it not +a preparation against events which may happen? Do you not understand that you +are saying something of this kind? “If I shall still prepare myself to bear +with patience what happens, may I be hanged.” But this is just as if a man +after receiving blows should give up the Pancratium. In the Pancratium it is in +our power to desist and not to receive blows. +</p> + +<p> +But in the other matter if we give up philosophy, what shall we gain? What then +should a man say on the occasion of each painful thing? It was for this that I +exercised myself, for this I disciplined myself. God says to you: Give me a +proof that you have duly practised athletics, that you have eaten what you +ought, that you have been exercised, that you have obeyed the aliptes (the +oiler and rubber). Then do you show yourself weak when the time for action +comes? Now is the time for the fever. Let it be borne well. Now is the time for +thirst, bear it well. Now is the time for hunger, bear it well. Is it not in +your power? Who shall hinder you? The physician will hinder you from drinking; +but he cannot prevent you from bearing thirst well: and he will hinder you from +eating; but he cannot prevent you from bearing hunger well. +</p> + +<p> +But I cannot attend to my philosophical studies. And for what purpose do you +follow them? Slave, is it not that you may be happy, that you may be constant, +is it not that you may be in a state conformable to nature and live so? What +hinders you when you have a fever from having your ruling faculty conformable +to nature? Here is the proof of the thing, here is the test of the philosopher. +For this also is a part of life, like walking, like sailing, like journeying by +land, so also is fever. Do you read when you are walking? No. Nor do you when +you have a fever. But if you walk about well, you have all that belongs to a +man who walks. If you bear a fever well, you have all that belongs to a man in +a fever. What is it to bear a fever well? Not to blame God or man; not to be +afflicted at that which happens, to expect death well and nobly, to do what +must be done: when the physician comes in, not to be frightened at what he +says; nor if he says you are doing well, to be overjoyed. For what good has he +told you? and when you were in health, what good was that to you? And even if +he says you are in a bad way, do not despond. For what is it to be ill? is it +that you are near the severance of the soul and the body? what harm is there in +this? If you are not near now, will you not afterwards be near? Is the world +going to be turned upside down when you are dead? Why then do you flatter the +physician? Why do you say if you please, master, I shall be well? Why do you +give him an opportunity of raising his eyebrows (being proud; or showing his +importance)? Do you not value a physician, as you do a shoemaker when he is +measuring your foot, or a carpenter when he is building your house, and so +treat the physician as to the body which is not yours, but by nature dead? He +who has a fever has an opportunity of doing this: if he does these things, he +has what belongs to him. For it is not the business of a philosopher to look +after these externals, neither his wine nor his oil nor his poor body, but his +own ruling power. But as to externals how must he act? so far as not to be +careless about them. Where then is there reason for fear? where is there then +still reason for anger, and of fear about what belongs to others, about things +which are of no value? For we ought to have these two principles in readiness, +that except the will nothing is good nor bad; and that we ought not to lead +events, but to follow them. My brother ought not to have behaved thus to me. +No, but he will see to that; and, however he may behave, I will conduct myself +towards him as I ought. For this is my own business; that belongs to another: +no man can prevent this, the other thing can be hindered. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ABOUT EXERCISE.—We ought not to make our exercises consist in means contrary to +nature and adapted to cause admiration, for if we do so, we who call ourselves +philosophers, shall not differ at all from jugglers. For it is difficult even +to walk on a rope; and not only difficult, but it is also dangerous. Ought we +for this reason to practice walking on a rope, or setting up a palm-tree, or +embracing statues? By no means. Every thing which is difficult and dangerous is +not suitable for practice; but that is suitable which conduces to the working +out of that which is proposed to us. And what is that which is proposed to us +as a thing to be worked out? To live with desire and aversion (avoidance of +certain things) free from restraint. And what is this? Neither to be +disappointed in that which you desire, nor to fall into anything which you +would avoid. Towards this object then exercise (practice) ought to tend. For +since it is not possible to have your desire not disappointed and your aversion +free from falling into that which you would avoid, without great and constant +practice, you must know that if you allow your desire and aversion to turn to +things which are not within the power of the will, you will neither have your +desire capable of attaining your object, nor your aversion free from the power +of avoiding that which you would avoid. And since strong habit leads +(prevails), and we are accustomed to employ desire and aversion only to things +which are not within the power of our will, we ought to oppose to this habit a +contrary habit, and where there is great slipperiness in the appearances, there +to oppose the habit of exercise. Then at last, if occasion presents itself, for +the purpose of trying yourself at a proper time you will descend into the arena +to know if appearances overpower you as they did formerly. But at first fly far +from that which is stronger than yourself; the contest is unequal between a +charming young girl and a beginner in philosophy. The earthen pitcher, as the +saying is, and the rock do not agree. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +WHAT SOLITUDE IS, AND WHAT KIND OF PERSON A SOLITARY MAN IS.—Solitude is a +certain condition of a helpless man. For because a man is alone, he is not for +that reason also solitary; just as though a man is among numbers, he is not +therefore not solitary. When then we have lost either a brother, or a son, or a +friend on whom we were accustomed to repose, we say that we are left solitary, +though we are often in Rome, though such a crowd meet us, though so many live +in the same place, and sometimes we have a great number of slaves. For the man +who is solitary, as it is conceived, is considered to be a helpless person and +exposed to those who wish to harm him. For this reason when we travel, then +especially do we say that we are lonely when we fall among robbers, for it is +not the sight of a human creature which removes us from solitude, but the sight +of one who is faithful and modest and helpful to us. For if being alone is +enough to make solitude, you may say that even Zeus is solitary in the +conflagration and bewails himself saying, Unhappy that I am who have neither +Hera, nor Athena, nor Apollo, nor brother, nor son, nor descendant, nor +kinsman. This is what some say that he does when he is alone at the +conflagration. For they do not understand how a man passes his life when he is +alone, because they set out from a certain natural principle, from the natural +desire of community and mutual love and from the pleasure of conversation among +men. But none the less a man ought to be prepared in a manner for this also +(being alone), to be able to be sufficient for himself and to be his own +companion. For as Zeus dwells with himself, and is tranquil by himself, and +thinks of his own administration and of its nature, and is employed in thoughts +suitable to himself; so ought we also to be able to talk with ourselves, not to +feel the want of others also, not to be unprovided with the means of passing +our time; to observe the divine administration, and the relation of ourselves +to everything else; to consider how we formerly were affected towards things +that happened and how at present; what are still the things which give us pain; +how these also can be cured and how removed; if any things require improvement, +to improve them according to reason. +</p> + +<p> +Well then, if some man should come upon me when I am alone and murder me? Fool, +not murder You, but your poor body. +</p> + +<p> +What kind of solitude then remains? what want? why do we make ourselves worse +than children; and what do children do when they are left alone? They take up +shells and ashes, and they build something, then pull it down, and build +something else, and so they never want the means of passing the time. Shall I +then, if you sail away, sit down and weep, because I have been left alone and +solitary? Shall I then have no shells, no ashes? But children do what they do +through want of thought (or deficiency in knowledge), and we through knowledge +are unhappy. +</p> + +<p> +Every great power (faculty) is dangerous to beginners. You must then bear such +things as you are able, but conformably to nature: but not ... Practise +sometimes a way of living like a person out of health that you may at some time +live like a man in health. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +CERTAIN MISCELLANEOUS MATTERS.—As bad tragic actors cannot sing alone, but in +company with many, so some persons cannot walk about alone. Man, if you are +anything, both walk alone and talk to yourself, and do not hide yourself in the +chorus. Examine a little at last, look around, stir yourself up, that you may +know who you are. +</p> + +<p> +You must root out of men these two things, arrogance (pride) and distrust. +Arrogance then is the opinion that you want nothing (are deficient in nothing); +but distrust is the opinion that you cannot be happy when so many circumstances +surround you. Arrogance is removed by confutation; and Socrates was the first +who practised this. And (to know) that the thing is not impossible inquire and +seek. This search will do you no harm; and in a manner this is philosophizing, +to seek how it is possible to employ desire and aversion ([Greek: echchlisis]) +without impediment. +</p> + +<p> +I am superior to you, for my father is a man of consular rank. Another says, I +have been a tribune, but you have not. If we were horses, would you say, My +father was swifter? I have much barley and fodder, or elegant neck ornaments. +If then you were saying this, I said, Be it so: let us run then. Well, is there +nothing in a man such as running in a horse, by which it will be known which is +superior and inferior? Is there not modesty ([Greek: aidos]), fidelity, +justice? Show yourself superior in these, that you may be superior as a man. If +you tell me that you can kick violently, I also will say to you, that you are +proud of that which is the act of an ass. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WE OUGHT TO PROCEED WITH CIRCUMSPECTION TO EVERYTHING.[Footnote: Compare +Encheiridion, 29.]—In every act consider what precedes and what follows, and +then proceed to the act. If you do not consider, you will at first begin with +spirit, since you have not thought at all of the things which follow; but +afterwards when some consequences have shown themselves, you will basely desist +(from that which you have begun).—I wish to conquer at the Olympic games.—(And +I too, by the gods; for it is a fine thing.) But consider here what precedes +and what follows; and then, if it is for your good, undertake the thing. You +must act according to rules, follow strict diet, abstain from delicacies, +exercise yourself by compulsion at fixed times, in heat, in cold; drink no cold +water, nor wine, when there is opportunity of drinking it. In a word, you must +surrender yourself to the trainer, as you do to a physician. Next in the +contest, you must be covered with sand, sometimes dislocate a hand, sprain an +ankle, swallow a quantity of dust, be scourged with the whip; and after +undergoing all this, you must sometimes be conquered. After reckoning all these +things, if you have still an inclination, go to the athletic practice. If you +do not reckon them, observe you will behave like children who at one time play +as wrestlers, then as gladiators, then blow a trumpet, then act a tragedy, when +they have seen and admired such things. So you also do: you are at one time a +wrestler (athlete), then a gladiator, then a philosopher, then a rhetorician; +but with your whole soul you are nothing: like the ape you imitate all that you +see; and always one thing after another pleases you, but that which becomes +familiar displeases you. For you have never undertaken anything after +consideration, nor after having explored the whole matter and put it to a +strict examination; but you have undertaken it at hazard and with a cold +desire. Thus some persons having seen a philosopher and having heard one speak +like Euphrates—and yet who can speak like him?—wish to be philosophers +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Man, consider first what the matter is (which you propose to do), then your own +nature also, what it is able to bear. If you are a wrestler, look at your +shoulders, your thighs, your loins: for different men are naturally formed for +different things. Do you think that, if you do (what you are doing daily), you +can be a philosopher? Do you think that you can eat as you do now, drink as you +do now, and in the same way be angry and out of humor? You must watch, labor, +conquer certain desires, you must depart from your kinsmen, be despised by your +slaves, laughed at by those who meet you, in everything you must be in an +inferior condition, as to magisterial office, in honors, in courts of justice. +When you have considered all these things completely, then, if you think +proper, approach to philosophy, if you would gain in exchange for these things +freedom from perturbations, liberty, tranquillity. If you have not considered +these things, do not approach philosophy: do not act like children, at one time +a philosopher, then a tax collector, then a rhetorician, then a procurator +(officer) of Cæsar. These things are not consistent. You must be one man either +good or bad; you must either labor at your own ruling faculty or at external +things; you must either labor at things within or at external things; that is, +you must either occupy the place of a philosopher or that of one of the vulgar. +</p> + +<p> +A person said to Rufus when Galba was murdered: Is the world now governed by +Providence? But Rufus replied: Did I ever incidentally form an argument from +Galba that the world is governed by Providence? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WE OUGHT WITH CAUTION TO ENTER INTO FAMILIAR INTERCOURSE WITH MEN.—If a +man has frequent intercourse with others either for talk, or drinking together, +or generally for social purposes, he must either become like them, or change +them to his own fashion. For if a man places a piece of quenched charcoal close +to a piece that is burning, either the quenched charcoal will quench the other, +or the burning charcoal will light that which is quenched. Since then the +danger is so great, we must cautiously enter into such intimacies with those of +the common sort, and remember that it is impossible that a man can keep company +with one who is covered with soot without being partaker of the soot himself. +For what will you do if a man speaks about gladiators, about horses, about +athletes, or what is worse about men? Such a person is bad, such a person is +good; this was well done, this was done badly. Further, if he scoff, or +ridicule, or show an ill-natured disposition? Is any man among us prepared like +a lute-player when he takes a lute, so that as soon as he has touched the +strings, he discovers which are discordant, and tunes the instrument? Such a +power as Socrates had who in all his social intercourse could lead his +companions to his own purpose? How should you have this power? It is therefore +a necessary consequence that you are carried about by the common kind of +people. +</p> + +<p> +Why then are they more powerful than you? Because they utter these useless +words from their real opinions; but you utter your elegant words only from your +lips; for this reason they are without strength and dead, and it is nauseous to +listen to your exhortations and your miserable virtue, which is talked of +everywhere (up and down). In this way the vulgar have the advantage over you; +for every opinion ([Greek: dogma]) is strong and invincible. Until then the +good ([Greek: chompsai]) sentiments ([Greek: hupolaepseis]) are fixed in you, +and you shall have acquired a certain power for your security, I advise you to +be careful in your association with common persons; if you are not, every day +like wax in the sun there will be melted away whatever you inscribe on your +minds in the school. Withdraw then yourselves far from the sun so long as you +have these waxen sentiments. For this reason also philosophers advise men to +leave their native country, because ancient habits distract them and do not +allow a beginning to be made of a different habit; nor can we tolerate those +who meet us and say: See such a one is now a philosopher, who was once so and +so. Thus also physicians send those who have lingering diseases to a different +country and a different air; and they do right. Do you also introduce other +habits than those which you have; fix you opinions and exercise yourselves in +them. But you do not so; you go hence to a spectacle, to a show of gladiators, +to a place of exercise ([Greek: chuston]), to a circus; then you come back +hither, and again from this place you go to those places, and still the same +persons. And there is no pleasing (good) habit, nor attention, nor care about +self and observation of this kind. How shall I use the appearances presented to +me? according to nature, or contrary to nature? how do I answer to them? as I +ought, or as I ought not? Do I say to those things which are independent of the +will, that they do not concern me? For if you are not yet in this state, fly +from your former habits, fly from the common sort, if you intend ever to begin +to be something. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON PROVIDENCE.-When you make any charge against Providence, consider, and you +will learn that the thing has happened according to reason. Yes, but the unjust +man has the advantage. In what? In money. Yes, for he is superior to you in +this, that he flatters, is free from shame, and is watchful. What is the +wonder? But see if he has the advantage over you in being faithful, in being +modest; for you will not find it to be so; but wherein you are superior, there +you will find that you have the advantage. And I once said to a man who was +vexed because Philostorgus was fortunate: Would you choose to lie with Sura? +May it never happen, he replied, that this day should come? Why then are you +vexed, if he receives something in return for that which he sells; or how can +you consider him happy who acquires those things by such means as you +abominate; or what wrong does Providence, if he gives the better things to the +better men? Is it not better to be modest than to be rich? He admitted this. +Why are you vexed then, man, when you possess the better thing? Remember then +always and have in readiness the truth, that this is a law of nature, that the +superior has an advantage over the inferior in that in which he is superior; +and you will never be vexed. +</p> + +<p> +But my wife treats me badly. Well, if any man asks you what this is, say, my +wife treats me badly. Is there then nothing more? Nothing. My father gives me +nothing. (What is this? my father gives me nothing. Is there nothing else then? +Nothing); but to say that this is an evil is something which must be added to +it externally, and falsely added. For this reason we must not get rid of +poverty, but of the opinion about poverty, and then we shall be happy. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ABOUT CYNICISM.—When one of his pupils inquired of Epictetus, and he was a +person who appeared to be inclined to Cynicism, what kind of person a Cynic +ought to be, and what was the notion ([Greek: prolaepsis]) of the thing, we +will inquire, said Epictetus, at leisure; but I have so much to say to you that +he who without God attempts so great a matter, is hateful to God, and has no +other purpose than to act indecently in public. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place, in the things which relate to yourself, you must not be in +any respect like what you do now; you must not blame God or man; you must take +away desire altogether, you must transfer avoidance ([Greek: echchlisis]) only +to the things which are within the power of the will; you must not feel anger +nor resentment or envy nor pity; a girl must not appear handsome to you, nor +must you love a little reputation, nor be pleased with a boy or a cake. For you +ought to know that the rest of men throw walls around them and houses and +darkness when they do any such things, and they have many means of concealment. +A man shuts the door, he sets somebody before the chamber; if a person comes, +say that he is out, he is not at leisure. But the Cynic instead of all these +things must use modesty as his protection; if he does not, he will be indecent +in his nakedness and under the open sky. This is his house, his door; this is +the slave before his bedchamber; this is his darkness. For he ought not to wish +to hide anything that he does; and if he does, he is gone, he has lost the +character of a Cynic, of a man who lives under the open sky, of a free man; he +has begun to fear some external thing, he has begun to have need of +concealment, nor can he get concealment when he chooses. For where shall he +hide himself and how? And if by chance this public instructor shall be +detected, this pædagogue, what kind of things will he be compelled to suffer? +when then a man fears these things, is it possible for him to be bold with his +whole soul to superintend men? It cannot be: it is impossible. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place then you must make your ruling faculty pure, and this mode +of life also. Now (you should say), to me the matter to work on is my +understanding, as wood is to the carpenter, as hides to the shoemaker; and my +business is the right use of appearances. But the body is nothing to me: the +parts of it are nothing to me. Death? Let it come when it chooses, either death +of the whole or of a part. Fly, you say. And whither; can any man eject me out +of the world? He cannot. But wherever I go, there is the sun, there is the +moon, there are the stars, dreams, omens, and the conversation ([Greek: +omilia]) with gods. +</p> + +<p> +Then, if he is thus prepared, the true Cynic cannot be satisfied with this; but +he must know that he is sent a messenger from Zeus to men about good and bad +things, to show them that they have wandered and are seeking the substance of +good and evil where it is not, but where it is, they never think; and that he +is a spy, as Diogenes was carried off to Philip after the battle of Chaeroneia +as a spy. For in fact a Cynic is a spy of the things which are good for men and +which are evil, and it is his duty to examine carefully and to come and report +truly, and not to be struck with terror so as to point out as enemies those who +are not enemies, nor in any other way to be perturbed by appearances nor +confounded. +</p> + +<p> +It is his duty then to be able with a loud voice, if the occasion should arise, +and appearing on the tragic stage to say like Socrates: Men, whither are you +hurrying, what are you doing, wretches? like blind people you are wandering up +and down; you are going by another road, and have left the true road; you seek +for prosperity and happiness where they are not, and if another shows you where +they are, you do not believe him. Why do you seek it without? In the body? It +is not there. If you doubt, look at Myro, look at Ophellius. In possessions? It +is not there. But if you do not believe me, look at Croesus: look at those who +are now rich, with what lamentations their life is filled. In power? It is not +there. If it is, those must be happy who have been twice and thrice consuls; +but they are not. Whom shall we believe in these matters? You who from without +see their affairs and are dazzled by an appearance, or the men themselves? What +do they say? Hear them when they groan, when they grieve, when on account of +these very consulships and glory and splendor they think that they are more +wretched and in greater danger. Is it in royal power? It is not: if it were, +Nero would have been happy, and Sardanapalus. But neither was Agamemnon happy, +though he was a better man than Sardanapalus and Nero; but while others are +snoring, what is he doing? +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Much from his head he tore his rooted hair:<br/> +Iliad, x., 15. +</p> + +<p> +and what does he say himself? +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“I am perplexed,” he says, “and<br/> +Disturb’d I am,” and “my heart out of my bosom<br/> +Is leaping.”<br/> +Iliad, x., 91. +</p> + +<p> +Wretch, which of your affairs goes badly? Your possessions? No. Your body? No. +But you are rich in gold and copper. What then is the matter with you? That +part of you, whatever it is, has been neglected by you and is corrupted, the +part with which we desire, with which we avoid, with which we move towards and +move from things. How neglected? He knows not the nature of good for which he +is made by nature and the nature of evil; and what is his own, and what belongs +to another; and when anything that belongs to others goes badly, he says, Woe +to me, for the Hellenes are in danger. Wretched is his ruling faculty, and +alone neglected and uncared for. The Hellenes are going to die destroyed by the +Trojans. And if the Trojans do not kill them, will they not die? Yes; but not +all at once. What difference then does it make? For if death is an evil, +whether men die altogether, or if they die singly, it is equally an evil. Is +anything else then going to happen than the separation of the soul and the +body? Nothing. And if the Hellenes perish, is the door closed, and is it not in +your power to die? It is. Why then do you lament (and say), Oh, you are a king +and have the sceptre of Zeus? An unhappy king does not exist more than an +unhappy god. What then art thou? In truth a shepherd: for you weep as shepherds +do, when a wolf has carried off one of their sheep: and these who are governed +by you are sheep. And why did you come hither? Was your desire in any danger? +was your aversion ([Greek: echchlisis])? was your movement (pursuits)? was your +avoidance of things? He replies, No; but the wife of my brother was carried +off. Was it not then a great gain to be deprived of an adulterous wife? Shall +we be despised then by the Trojans? What kind of people are the Trojans, wise +or foolish? If they are wise, why do you fight with them? If they are fools, +why do you care about them? +</p> + +<p> +Do you possess the body then free or is it in servile condition? We do not +know. Do you not know that it is the slave of fever, of gout, ophthalmia, +dysentery, of a tyrant, of fire, of iron, of everything which is stronger? Yes, +it is a slave. How then is it possible that anything which belongs to the body +can be free from hindrance? and how is a thing great or valuable which is +naturally dead, or earth, or mud? Well then, do you possess nothing which is +free? Perhaps nothing. And who is able to compel you to assent to that which +appears false? No man. And who can compel you not to assent to that which +appears true? No man. By this then you see that there is something in you +naturally free. But to desire or to be averse from, or to move towards an +object or to move from it, or to prepare yourself, or to propose to do +anything, which of you can do this, unless he has received an impression of the +appearance of that which is profitable or a duty? No man. You have then in +these things also something which is not hindered and is free. Wretched men, +work out this, take care of this, seek for good here. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO BE MOVED BY A DESIRE OF THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE NOT IN OUR +POWER.—Let not that which in another is contrary to nature be an evil to you; +for you are not formed by nature to be depressed with others nor to be unhappy +with others, but to be happy with them. If a man is unhappy, remember that his +unhappiness is his own fault; for God has made all men to be happy, to be free +from perturbations. For this purpose he has given means to them, some things to +each person as his own, and other things not as his own; some things subject to +hindrance and compulsion and deprivation; and these things are not a man’s own; +but the things which are not subject to hindrances, are his own; and the nature +of good and evil, as it was fit to be done by him who takes care of us and +protects us like a father, he has made our own. But you say, I have parted from +a certain person, and he is grieved. Why did he consider as his own that which +belongs to another? why, when he looked on you and was rejoiced, did he not +also reckon that you are a mortal, that it is natural for you to part from him +for a foreign country? Therefore he suffers the consequences of his own folly. +But why do you or for what purpose bewail yourself? Is it that you also have +not thought of these things? but like poor women who are good for nothing, you +have enjoyed all things in which you took pleasure, as if you would always +enjoy them, both places and men and conversation; and now you sit and weep +because you do not see the same persons and do not live in the same places. +Indeed you deserve this, to be more wretched than crows and ravens who have the +power of flying where they please and changing their nests for others, and +crossing the seas without lamenting or regretting their former condition. Yes, +but this happens to them because they are irrational creatures. Was reason then +given to us by the gods for the purpose of unhappiness and misery, that we may +pass our lives in wretchedness and lamentation? Must all persons be immortal +and must no man go abroad, and must we ourselves not go abroad, but remain +rooted like plants; and if any of our familiar friends goes abroad, must we sit +and weep; and on the contrary, when he returns, must we dance and clap our +hands like children? +</p> + +<p> +But my mother laments when she does not see me. Why has she not learned these +principles? and I do not say this, that we should not take care that she may +not lament, but I say that we ought not to desire in every way what is not our +own. And the sorrow of another is another’s sorrow; but my sorrow is my own. I +then will stop my own sorrow by every means, for it is in my power; and the +sorrow of another I will endeavor to stop as far as I can; but I will not +attempt to do it by every means; for if I do, I shall be fighting against God, +I shall be opposing Zeus and shall be placing myself against him in the +administration of the universe; and the reward (the punishment) of this +fighting against God and of this disobedience not only will the children of my +children pay, but I also shall myself, both by day and by night, startled by +dreams, perturbed, trembling at every piece of news, and having my tranquillity +depending on the letters of others. Some person has arrived from Rome. I only +hope there is no harm. But what harm can happen to you, where you are not? From +Hellas (Greece) some one is come; I hope that there is no harm. In this way +every place may be the cause of misfortune to you. Is it not enough for you to +be unfortunate there where you are, and must you be so even beyond sea, and by +the report of letters? Is this the way in which your affairs are in a state of +security? Well then suppose that my friends have died in the places which are +far from me. What else have they suffered than that which is the condition of +mortals? Or how are you desirous at the same time to live to old age, and at +the same time not to see the death of any person whom you love? Know you not +that in the course of a long time many and various kinds of things must happen; +that a fever shall overpower one, a robber another, and a third a tyrant? Such +is the condition of things around us, such are those who live with us in the +world; cold and heat, and unsuitable ways of living, and journeys by land, and +voyages by sea, and winds, and various circumstances which surround us, destroy +one man, and banish another, and throw one upon an embassy and another into an +army. Sit down then in a flutter at all these things, lamenting, unhappy, +unfortunate, dependent on another, and dependent not on one or two, but on ten +thousands upon ten thousands. +</p> + +<p> +Did you hear this when you were with the philosophers? did you learn this? do +you not know that human life is a warfare? that one man must keep watch, +another must go out as a spy, and a third must fight? and it is not possible +that all should be in one place, nor is it better that it should be so. But you +neglecting to do the commands of the general complain when anything more hard +than usual is imposed on you, and you do not observe what you make the army +become as far as it is in your power; that if all imitate you, no man will dig +a trench, no man will put a rampart round, nor keep watch, nor expose himself +to danger, but will appear to be useless for the purposes of an army. Again, in +a vessel if you go as a sailor, keep to one place and stick to it. And if you +are ordered to climb the mast, refuse; if to run to the head of the ship, +refuse; and what master of a ship will endure you? and will he not pitch you +overboard as a useless thing, an impediment only and bad example to the other +sailors? And so it is here also: every man’s life is a kind of warfare, and it +is long and diversified. You must observe the duty of a soldier and do every +thing at the nod of the general; if it is possible, divining what his wishes +are; for there is no resemblance between that general and this, neither in +strength nor in superiority of character. Know you not that a good man does +nothing for the sake of appearance, but for the sake of doing right? What +advantage is it then to him to have done right? And what advantage is it to a +man who writes the name of Dion to write it as he ought? The advantage is to +have written it. Is there no reward then? Do you seek a reward for a good man +greater than doing what is good and just? At Olympia you wish for nothing more, +but it seems to you enough to be crowned at the games. Does it seem to you so +small and worthless a thing to be good and happy? For these purposes being +introduced by the gods into this city (the world), and it being now your duty +to undertake the work of a man, do you still want nurses also and a mamma, and +do foolish women by their weeping move you and make you effeminate? Will you +thus never cease to be a foolish child? know you not that he who does the acts +of a child, the older he is, the more ridiculous he is? +</p> + +<p> +So in this matter also: if you kiss your own child, or your brother or friend, +never give full license to the appearance ([Greek: phantasian]), and allow not +your pleasure to go as far as it chooses; but check it, and curb it as those +who stand behind men in their triumphs and remind them that they are mortal. Do +you also remind yourself in like manner, that he whom you love is mortal, and +that what you love is nothing of your own; it has been given to you for the +present, not that it should not be taken from you, nor has it been given to you +for all time, but as a fig is given to you or a bunch of grapes at the +appointed season of the year. But if you wish for these things in winter, you +are a fool. So if you wish for your son or friend when it is not allowed to +you, you must know that you are wishing for a fig in winter. For such as winter +is to a fig, such is every event which happens from the universe to the things +which are taken away according to its nature. And further, at the times when +you are delighted with a thing, place before yourself the contrary appearances. +What harm is it while you are kissing your child to say with a lisping voice: +To-morrow you will die; and to a friend also: To-morrow you will go away or I +shall, and never shall we see one another again? But these are words of bad +omen—and some incantations also are of bad omen; but because they are useful, I +don’t care for this; only let them be useful. But do you call things to be of +bad omen except those which are significant of some evil? Cowardice is a word +of bad omen, and meanness of spirit, and sorrow, and grief, and shamelessness. +These words are of bad omen; and yet we ought not to hesitate to utter them in +order to protect ourselves against the things. Do you tell me that a name which +is significant of any natural thing is of evil omen? say that even for the ears +of corn to be reaped is of bad omen, for it signifies the destruction of the +ears, but not of the world. Say that the falling of the leaves also is of bad +omen, and for the dried fig to take the place of the green fig, and for raisins +to be made from the grapes. For all these things are changes from a former +state into other states; not a destruction, but a certain fixed economy and +administration. Such is going away from home and a small change: such is death, +a greater change, not from the state which now is to that which is not, but to +that which is not now. Shall I then no longer exist? You will not exist, but +you will be something else, of which the world now has need; for you also came +into existence not when you chose, but when the world had need of you. +</p> + +<p> +Let these thoughts be ready to hand by night and by day; these you should +write, these you should read; about these you should talk to yourself and to +others. Ask a man: Can you help me at all for this purpose? and further, go to +another and to another. Then if anything that is said be contrary to your wish, +this reflection first will immediately relieve you, that it is not unexpected. +For it is a great thing in all cases to say: I knew that I begot a son who is +mortal. For so you also will say: I knew that I am mortal, I knew that I may +leave my home, I knew that I may be ejected from it, I knew that I may be led +to prison. Then if you turn round and look to yourself, and seek the place from +which comes that which has happened, you will forthwith recollect that it comes +from the place of things which are out of the power of the will, and of things +which are not my own. What then is it to me? Then, you will ask, and this is +the chief thing: And who is it that sent it? The leader, or the general, the +state, the law of the state. Give it me then, for I must always obey the law in +everything. Then, when the appearance (of things) pains you, for it is not in +your power to prevent this, contend against it by the aid of reason, conquer +it: do not allow it to gain strength nor to lead you to the consequences by +raising images such as it pleases and as it pleases. If you be in Gyara, do not +imagine the mode of living at Rome, and how many pleasures there were for him +who lived there and how many there would be for him who returned to Rome; but +fix your mind on this matter, how a man who lives in Gyara ought to live in +Gyara like a man of courage. And if you be in Rome, do not imagine what the +life in Athens is, but think only of the life in Rome. +</p> + +<p> +Then in the place of all other delights substitute this, that of being +conscious that you are obeying God, that not in word, but in deed you are +performing the acts of a wise and good man. For what a thing it is for a man to +be able to say to himself: Now whatever the rest may say in solemn manner in +the schools and may be judged to be saying in a way contrary to common opinion +(or in a strange way), this I am doing; and they are sitting and are +discoursing of my virtues and inquiring about me and praising me; and of this +Zeus has willed that I shall receive from myself a demonstration, and shall +myself know if he has a soldier such as he ought to have, a citizen such as he +ought to have, and if he has chosen to produce me to the rest of mankind as a +witness of the things which are independent of the will: See that you fear +without reason, that you foolishly desire what you do desire; seek not the good +in things external; seek it in yourselves: if you do not, you will not find it. +For this purpose he leads me at one time hither, at another time sends me +thither, shows me to men as poor, without authority, and sick; sends me to +Gyara, leads me into prison, not because he hates me—far from him be such a +meaning, for who hates the best of his servants? nor yet because he cares not +for me, for he does not neglect any even of the smallest things; but he does +this for the purpose of exercising me and making use of me as a witness to +others. Being appointed to such a service, do I still care about the place in +which I am, or with whom I am, or what men say about me? and do I not entirely +direct my thoughts to God and to his instructions and commands? +</p> + +<p> +Having these things (or thoughts) always in hand, and exercising them by +yourself, and keeping them in readiness, you will never be in want of one to +comfort you and strengthen you. For it is not shameful to be without something +to eat, but not to have reason sufficient for keeping away fear and sorrow. But +if once you have gained exemption from sorrow and fear, will there any longer +be a tyrant for you, or a tyrant’s guard, or attendants on Cæsar? Or shall any +appointment to offices at court cause you pain, or shall those who sacrifice in +the Capitol on the occasion of being named to certain functions, cause pain to +you who have received so great authority from Zeus? Only do not make a proud +display of it, nor boast of it; but show it by your acts; and if no man +perceives it, be satisfied that you are yourself in a healthy state and happy. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO THOSE WHO FALL OFF (DESIST) FROM THEIR PURPOSE.—Consider as to the things +which you proposed to yourself at first, which you have secured, and which you +have not; and how you are pleased when you recall to memory the one, and are +pained about the other; and if it is possible, recover the things wherein you +failed. For we must not shrink when we are engaged in the greatest combat, but +we must even take blows. For the combat before us is not in wrestling and the +Pancration, in which both the successful and the unsuccessful may have the +greatest merit, or may have little, and in truth may be very fortunate or very +unfortunate; but the combat is for good fortune and happiness themselves. Well +then, even if we have renounced the contest in this matter (for good fortune +and happiness), no man hinders us from renewing the combat again, and we are +not compelled to wait for another four years that the games at Olympia may come +again; but as soon as you have recovered and restored yourself, and employ the +same zeal, you may renew the combat again; and if again you renounce it, you +may again renew it; and if you once gain the victory, you are like him who has +never renounced the combat. Only do not through a habit of doing the same thing +(renouncing the combat), begin to do it with pleasure, and then like a bad +athlete go about after being conquered in all the circuit of the games like +quails who have run away. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO THOSE WHO FEAR WANT.—Are you not ashamed at being more cowardly and more +mean than fugitive slaves? How do they when they run away leave their masters? +on what estates do they depend, and what domestics do they rely on? Do they not +after stealing a little, which is enough for the first days, then afterwards +move on through land or through sea, contriving one method after another for +maintaining their lives? And what fugitive slave ever died of hunger? But you +are afraid lest necessary things should fail you, and are sleepless by night. +Wretch, are you so blind, and don’t you see the road to which the want of +necessaries leads?—Well, where does it lead?—to the same place to which a fever +leads, or a stone that falls on you, to death. Have you not often said this +yourself to your companions? have you not read much of this kind, and written +much? and how often have you boasted that you were easy as to death? +</p> + +<p> +Learn then first what are the things which are shameful, and then tell us that +you are a philosopher: but at present do not, even if any other man calls you +so, allow it. +</p> + +<p> +Is that shameful to you which is not your own act, that of which you are not +the cause, that which has come to you by accident, as a headache, as a fever? +If your parents were poor, and left their property to others, and if while they +live, they do not help you at all, is this shameful to you? Is this what you +learned with the philosophers? Did you never hear that the thing which is +shameful ought to be blamed, and that which is blamable is worthy of blame? +Whom do you blame for an act which is not his own, which he did not do himself? +Did you then make your father such as he is, or is it in your power to improve +him? Is this power given to you? Well then, ought you to wish the things which +are not given to you, or to be ashamed if you do not obtain them? And have you +also been accustomed while you were studying philosophy to look to others and +to hope for nothing from yourself? Lament then and groan and eat with fear that +you may not have food to-morrow. Tremble about your poor slaves lest they +steal, lest they run away, lest they die. So live, and continue to live, you +who in name only have approached philosophy, and have disgraced its theorems as +far as you can by showing them to be useless and unprofitable to those who take +them up; you, who have never sought constancy, freedom from perturbation, and +from passions; you who have not sought any person for the sake of this object, +but many for the sake of syllogisms; you who have never thoroughly examined any +of these appearances by yourself, Am I able to bear, or am I not able to bear? +What remains for me to do? But as if all your affairs were well and secure, you +have been resting on the third topic, that of things being unchanged, in order +that you may possess unchanged—what? cowardice, mean spirit, the admiration of +the rich, desire without attaining any end, and avoidance ([Greek: echchlisin]) +which fails in the attempt? About security in these things you have been +anxious. +</p> + +<p> +Ought you not to have gained something in addition from reason, and then to +have protected this with security? And whom did you ever see building a +battlement all around and encircling it with a wall? And what doorkeeper is +placed with no door to watch? But you practise in order to be able to +prove—what? You practise that you may not be tossed as on the sea through +sophisms, and tossed about from what? Show me first what you hold, what you +measure, or what you weigh; and show me the scales or the medimnus (the +measure); or how long will you go on measuring the dust? Ought you not to +demonstrate those things which make men happy, which make things go on for them +in the way as they wish, and why we ought to blame no man, accuse no man, and +acquiesce in the administration of the universe? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ABOUT FREEDOM.—He is free who lives as he wishes to live; who is neither +subject to compulsion nor to hindrance, nor to force; whose movements to action +([Greek: hormai]) are not impeded, whose desires attain their purpose, and who +does not fall into that which he would avoid ([Greek: echchliseis +aperiptotoi]). Who then chooses to live in error? No man. Who chooses to live +deceived, liable to mistake, unjust, unrestrained, discontented, mean? No man. +Not one then of the bad lives as he wishes; nor is he then free. And who +chooses to live in sorrow, fear, envy, pity, desiring and failing in his +desires, attempting to avoid something and falling into it? Not one. Do we then +find any of the bad free from sorrow, free from fear, who does not fall into +that which he would avoid, and does not obtain that which he wishes? Not one; +nor then do we find any bad man free. +</p> + +<p> +Further, then, answer me this question, also: does freedom seem to you to be +something great and noble and valuable? How should it not seem so? Is it +possible then when a man obtains anything so great and valuable and noble to be +mean? It is not possible. When then you see any man subject to another or +flattering him contrary to his own opinion, confidently affirm that this man +also is not free; and not only if he do this for a bit of supper, but also if +he does it for a government (province) or a consulship; and call these men +little slaves who for the sake of little matters do these things, and those who +do so for the sake of great things call great slaves, as they deserve to be. +This is admitted also. Do you think that freedom is a thing independent and +self-governing? Certainly. Whomsoever then it is in the power of another to +hinder and compel, declare that he is not free. And do not look, I entreat you, +after his grandfathers and great-grandfathers, or inquire about his being +bought or sold, but if you hear him saying from his heart and with feeling, +“Master,” even if the twelve fasces precede him (as consul), call him a slave. +And if you hear him say, “Wretch that I am, how much I suffer,” call him a +slave. If, finally, you see him lamenting, complaining, unhappy, call him a +slave, though he wears a praetexta. If, then, he is doing nothing of this kind +do not yet say that he is free, but learn his opinions, whether they are +subject to compulsion, or may produce hindrance, or to bad fortune, and if you +find him such, call him a slave who has a holiday in the Saturnalia; say that +his master is from home; he will return soon, and you will know what he +suffers. +</p> + +<p> +What then is that which makes a man free from hindrance and makes him his own +master? For wealth does not do it, nor consulship, nor provincial government, +nor royal power; but something else must be discovered. What then is that which +when we write makes us free from hindrance and unimpeded? The knowledge of the +art of writing. What then is it in playing the lute? The science of playing the +lute. Therefore in life also it is the science of life. You have then heard in +a general way; but examine the thing also in the several parts. Is it possible +that he who desires any of the things which depend on others can be free from +hindrance? No. Is it possible for him to be unimpeded? No. Therefore he cannot +be free. Consider then, whether we have nothing which is in our own power only, +or whether we have all things, or whether some things are in our own power, and +others in the power of others. What do you mean? When you wish the body to be +entire (sound) is it in your power or not? It is not in my power. When you wish +it to be healthy? Neither is this in my power. When you wish it to be handsome? +Nor is this. Life or death? Neither is this in my power. Your body then is +another’s, subject to every man who is stronger than yourself. It is. But your +estate is it in your power to have it when you please, and as long as you +please, and such as you please? No. And your slaves? No. And your clothes? No. +And your house? No. And your horses? Not one of these things. And if you wish +by all means your children to live, or your wife, or your brother, or your +friends, is it in your power? This also is not in my power. +</p> + +<p> +Whether then have you nothing which is in your own power, which depends on +yourself only and cannot be taken from you, or have you anything of the kind? I +know not. Look at the thing then thus, and examine it. Is any man able to make +you assent to that which is false? No man. In the matter of assent then you are +free from hindrance and obstruction. Granted. Well; and can a man force you to +desire to move towards that to which you do not choose? He can, for when he +threatens me with death or bonds he compels me to desire to move towards it. If +then you despise death and bonds, do you still pay any regard to him? No. Is +then the despising of death an act of your own or is it not yours? It is my +act. +</p> + +<p> +When you have made this preparation, and have practised this discipline, to +distinguish that which belongs to another from that which is your own, the +things which are subject to hindrance from those which are not, to consider the +things free from hindrance to concern yourself, and those which are not free +not to concern yourself, to keep your desire steadily fixed to the things which +do concern yourself, and turned from the things which do not concern yourself; +do you still fear any man? No one. For about what will you be afraid? About the +things which are your own, in which consists the nature of good and evil? and +who has power over these things? who can take them away? who can impede them? +No man can, no more than he can impede God. But will you be afraid about your +body and your possessions, about things which are not yours, about things which +in no way concern you? and what else have you been studying from the beginning +than to distinguish between your own and not your own, the things which are in +your power and not in your power, the things subject to hindrance and not +subject? and why have you come to the philosophers? was it that you may +nevertheless be unfortunate and unhappy? You will then in this way, as I have +supposed you to have done, be without fear and disturbance. And what is grief +to you? for fear comes from what you expect, but grief from that which is +present. But what further will you desire? For of the things which are within +the power of the will, as being good and present, you have a proper and +regulated desire; but of the things which are not in the power of the will you +do not desire any one, and so you do not allow any place to that which is +irrational, and impatient, and above measure hasty. +</p> + +<p> +Then after receiving everything from another and even yourself, are you angry +and do you blame the giver if he takes anything from you? Who are you, and for +what purpose did you come into the world? Did not he (God) introduce you here, +did he not show you the light, did he not give you fellow-workers, and +perceptions and reason? and as whom did he introduce you here? did he not +introduce you as subject to death, and as one to live on the earth with a +little flesh, and to observe his administration, and to join with him in the +spectacle and the festival for a short time? Will you not then, as long as you +have been permitted, after seeing the spectacle and the solemnity, when he +leads you out, go with adoration of him and thanks for what you have heard and +seen? No; but I would still enjoy the feast. The initiated too would wish to be +longer in the initiation; and perhaps also those at Olympia to see other +athletes. But the solemnity is ended; go away like a grateful and modest man; +make room for others; others also must be born, as you were, and, being born, +they must have a place, and houses, and necessary things. And if the first do +not retire, what remains? Why are you insatiable? Why are you not content? why +do you contract the world? Yes, but I would have my little children with me and +my wife. What, are they yours? do they not belong to the giver, and to him who +made you? then will you not give up what belongs to others? will you not give +way to him who is superior? Why then did he introduce me into the world on +these conditions? And if the conditions do not suit you, depart. He has no need +of a spectator who is not satisfied. He wants those who join in the festival, +those who take part in the chorus, that they may rather applaud, admire, and +celebrate with hymns the solemnity. But those who can bear no trouble, and the +cowardly, he will not unwillingly see absent from the great assembly ([Greek: +panaeguris]) for they did not when they were present behave as they ought to do +at a festival nor fill up their place properly, but they lamented, found fault +with the deity, fortune, their companions; not seeing both what they had, and +their own powers, which they received for contrary purposes, the powers of +magnanimity, of a generous mind, manly spirit, and what we are now inquiring +about, freedom. For what purpose then have I received these things? To use +them. How long? So long as he who has lent them chooses. What if they are +necessary to me? Do not attach yourself to them and they will not be necessary; +do not say to yourself that they are necessary, and then they are not +necessary. +</p> + +<p> +You then, a man may say, are you free? I wish, by the gods, and pray to be +free; but I am not yet able to face my masters, I still value my poor body, I +value greatly the preservation of it entire, though I do not possess it entire. +But I can point out to you a free man, that you may no longer seek an example. +Diogenes was free. How was he free? Not because he was born of free parents, +but because he was himself free, because he had cast off all the handles of +slavery, and it was not possible for any man to approach him, nor had any man +the means of laying hold of him to enslave him. He had everything easily +loosed, everything only hanging to him. If you laid hold of his property, he +would have rather let it go and be yours, than he would have followed you for +it; if you had laid hold of his leg, he would have let go his leg; if of all +his body, all his poor body; his intimates, friends, country, just the same. +For he knew from whence he had them, and from whom, and on what conditions. His +true parents indeed, the gods, and his real country he would never have +deserted, nor would he have yielded to any man in obedience to them and to +their orders, nor would any man have died for his country more readily. For he +was not used to inquire when he should be considered to have done anything on +behalf of the whole of things (the universe, or all the world), but he +remembered that everything which is done comes from thence and is done on +behalf of that country and is commanded by him who administers it. Therefore +see what Diogenes himself says and writes: “For this reason,” he says, +“Diogenes, it is in your power to speak both with the King of the Persians and +with Archidamus the King of the Lacedaemonians, as you please.” Was it because +he was born of free parents? I suppose all the Athenians and all the +Lacedaemonians, because they were born of slaves, could not talk with them +(these kings) as they wished, but feared and paid court to them. Why then does +he say that it is in his power? Because I do not consider the poor body to be +my own, because I want nothing, because law is everything to me, and nothing +else is. These were the things which permitted him to be free. +</p> + +<p> +Think of these things, these opinions, these words; look to these examples, if +you would be free, if you desire the thing according to its worth. And what is +the wonder if you buy so great a thing at the price of things so many and so +great? For the sake of this which is called liberty, some hang themselves, +others throw themselves down precipices, and sometimes even whole cities have +perished; and will you not for the sake of the true and unassailable and secure +liberty give back to God when he demands them the things which he has given? +Will you not, as Plato says, study not to die only, but also to endure torture, +and exile, and scourging, and, in a word, to give up all which is not your own? +If you will not, you will be a slave among slaves, even if you be ten thousand +times a consul; and if you make your way up to the palace (Cæsar’s residence), +you will no less be a slave; and you will feel that perhaps philosophers utter +words which are contrary to common opinion (paradoxes), as Cleanthes also said, +but not words contrary to reason. For you will know by experience that the +words are true, and that there is no profit from the things which are valued +and eagerly sought to those who have obtained them; and to those who have not +yet obtained them there is an imagination ([Greek: phantasia]), that when these +things are come, all that is good will come with them; then, when they are +come, the feverish feeling is the same, the tossing to and fro is the same, the +satiety, the desire of things, which are not present; for freedom is acquired +not by the full possession of the things which are desired, but by removing the +desire. And that you may know that this is true, as you have labored for those +things, so transfer your labor to these: be vigilant for the purpose of +acquiring an opinion which will make you free; pay court to a philosopher +instead of to a rich old man; be seen about a philosopher’s doors; you will not +disgrace yourself by being seen; you will not go away empty nor without profit, +if you go to the philosopher as you ought, and if not (if you do not succeed), +try at least; the trial (attempt) is not disgraceful. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON FAMILIAR INTIMACY.—To this matter before all you must attend, that you be +never so closely connected with any of your former intimates or friends as to +come down to the same acts as he does. If you do not observe this rule, you +will ruin yourself. But if the thought arises in your mind, “I shall seem +disobliging to him and he will not have the same feeling towards me,” remember +that nothing is done without cost, nor is it possible for a man if he does not +do the same things to be the same man that he was. Choose then which of the two +you will have, to be equally loved by those by whom you were formerly loved, +being the same with your former self; or, being superior, not to obtain from +your friends the same that you did before. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +WHAT THINGS WE SHOULD EXCHANGE FOR OTHER THINGS.—Keep this thought in +readiness, when you lose anything external, what you acquire in place of it; +and if it be worth more, never say, I have had a loss; neither if you have got +a horse in place of an ass, or an ox in place of a sheep, nor a good action in +place of a bit of money, nor in place of idle talk such tranquillity as befits +a man, nor in place of lewd talk if you have acquired modesty. If you remember +this, you will always maintain your character such as it ought to be. But if +you do not, consider that the times of opportunity are perishing, and that +whatever pains you take about yourself, you are going to waste them all and +overturn them. And it needs only a few things for the loss and overturning of +all—namely, a small deviation from reason. For the steerer of a ship to upset +it, he has no need of the same means as he has need of for saving it; but if he +turns it a little to the wind, it is lost; and if he does not do this +purposely, but has been neglecting his duty a little, the ship is lost. +Something of the kind happens in this case also; if you only fall a nodding a +little, all that you have up to this time collected is gone. Attend therefore +to the appearances of things, and watch over them; for that which you have to +preserve is no small matter, but it is modesty and fidelity and constancy, +freedom from the affects, a state of mind undisturbed, freedom from fear, +tranquillity, in a word liberty. For what will you sell these things? See what +is the value of the things which you will obtain in exchange for these.—But +shall I not obtain any such thing for it?—See, and if you do in return get +that, see what you receive in place of it. I possess decency, he possesses a +tribuneship: he possesses a prætorship, I possess modesty. But I do not make +acclamations where it is not becoming: I will not stand up where I ought not; +for I am free, and a friend of God. and so I obey him willingly. But I must not +claim (seek) anything else, neither body nor possession, nor magistracy, nor +good report, nor in fact anything. For he (God) does not allow me to claim +(seek) them, for if he had chosen, he would have made them good for me; but he +has not done so, and for this reason I cannot transgress his commands. Preserve +that which is your own good in everything; and as to every other thing, as it +is permitted, and so far as to behave consistently with reason in respect to +them, content with this only. If you do not, you will be unfortunate, you will +fail in all things, you will be hindered, you will be impeded. These are the +laws which have been sent from thence (from God); these are the orders. Of +these laws a man ought to be an expositor, to these he ought to submit, not to +those of Masurius and Cassius. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO THOSE WHO ARE DESIROUS OF PASSING LIFE IN TRANQUILLITY.—Remember that not +only the desire of power and of riches makes us mean and subject to others, but +even the desire of tranquillity, and of leisure, and of travelling abroad, and +of learning. For, to speak plainly, whatever the external thing may be, the +value which we set upon it places us in subjection to others. What then is the +difference between desiring to be a senator or not desiring to be one; what is +the difference between desiring power or being content with a private station; +what is the difference between saying, I am unhappy, I have nothing to do, but +I am bound to my books as a corpse; or saying, I am unhappy, I have no leisure +for reading? For as salutations and power are things external and independent +of the will, so is a book. For what purpose do you choose to read? Tell me. For +if you only direct your purpose to being amused or learning something, you are +a silly fellow and incapable of enduring labor. But if you refer reading to the +proper end, what else is this than a tranquil and happy life ([Greek: eusoia])? +But if reading does not secure for you a happy and tranquil life, what is the +use of it? But it does secure this, the man replies, and for this reason I am +vexed that I am deprived of it.—And what is this tranquil and happy life, which +any man can impede, I do not say Cæsar or Cæsar’s friend, but a crow, a piper, +a fever, and thirty thousand other things? But a tranquil and happy life +contains nothing so sure as continuity and freedom from obstacle. Now I am +called to do something: I will go then with the purpose of observing the +measures (rules) which I must keep, of acting with modesty, steadiness, without +desire and aversion to things external; and then that I may attend to men, what +they say, how they are moved; and this not with any bad disposition, or that I +may have something to blame or to ridicule; but I turn to myself, and ask if I +also commit the same faults. How then shall I cease to commit them? Formerly I +also acted wrong, but now I do not: thanks to God. +</p> + +<p> +What then is the reason of this? The reason is that we have never read for this +purpose, we have never written for this purpose, so that we may in our actions +use in a way conformable to nature the appearances presented to us; but we +terminate in this, in learning what is said, and in being able to expound it to +another, in resolving a syllogism, and in handling the hypothetical syllogism. +For this reason where our study (purpose) is, there alone is the impediment. +Would you have by all means the things which are not in your power? Be +prevented then, be hindered, fail in your purpose. But if we read what is +written about action (efforts, [Greek: hormae]), not that we may see what is +said about action, but that we may act well; if we read what is said about +desire and aversion (avoiding things), in order that we may neither fail in our +desires, nor fall into that which we try to avoid; if we read what is said +about duty (officium), in order that remembering the relations (of things to +one another) we may do nothing irrationally nor contrary to these relations; we +should not be vexed, in being hindered as to our readings, but we should be +satisfied with doing the acts which are conformable (to the relations), and we +should be reckoning not what so far we have been accustomed to reckon: To-day I +have read so many verses, I have written so many; but (we should say), To-day I +have employed my action as it is taught by the philosophers; I have not +employed my desire; I have used avoidance ([Greek: echchlisei]) only with +respect to things which are within the power of my will; I have not been afraid +of such a person, I have not been prevailed upon by the entreaties of another; +I have exercised my patience, my abstinence, my co-operation with others; and +so we should thank God for what we ought to thank him. +</p> + +<p> +There is only one way to happiness, and let this rule be ready both in the +morning and during the day and by night: the rule is not to look towards things +which are out of the power of our will, to think that nothing is our own, to +give up all things to the Divinity, to Fortune; to make them the +superintendents of these things, whom Zeus also has made so; for a man to +observe that only which is his own, that which cannot be hindered; and when we +read, to refer our reading to this only, and our writing and our listening. For +this reason I cannot call the man industrious, if I hear this only, that he +reads and writes; and even if a man adds that he reads all night, I cannot say +so, if he knows not to what he should refer his reading. For neither do you say +that a man is industrious if he keeps awake for a girl, nor do I. But if he +does it (reads and writes) for reputation, I say that he is a lover of +reputation. And if he does it for money, I say that he is a lover of money, not +a lover of labor; and if he does it through love of learning, I say that he is +a lover of learning. But if he refers his labor to his own ruling power that he +may keep it in a state conformable to nature and pass his life in that state, +then only do I say that he is industrious. For never commend a man on account +of these things which are common to all, but on account of his opinions +(principles); for these are the things which belong to each man, which make his +actions bad or good. Remembering these rules, rejoice in that which is present, +and be content with the things which come in season. If you see anything which +you have learned and inquired about occurring to you in your course of life (or +opportunely applied by you to the acts of life), be delighted at it. If you +have laid aside or have lessened bad disposition and a habit of reviling; if +you have done so with rash temper, obscene words, hastiness, sluggishness; if +you are not moved by what you formerly were, and not in the same way as you +once were, you can celebrate a festival daily, to-day because you have behaved +well in one act, and to-morrow because you have behaved well in another. How +much greater is this a reason for making sacrifices than a consulship or the +government of a province? These things come to you from yourself and from the +gods. Remember this, who gives these things and to whom, and for what purpose. +If you cherish yourself in these thoughts, do you still think that it makes any +difference where you shall be happy, where you shall please God? Are not the +gods equally distant from all places? Do they not see from all places alike +that which is going on? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +AGAINST THE QUARRELSOME AND FEROCIOUS.—The wise and good man neither himself +fights with any person, nor does he allow another, so far as he can prevent it. +And an example of this as well as of all other things is proposed to us in the +life of Socrates, who not only himself on all occasions avoided fights +(quarrels), but would not allow even others to quarrel. See in Xenophon’s +Symposium how many quarrels he settled, how further he endured Thrasymachus and +Polus and Callicles; how he tolerated his wife, and how he tolerated his son +who attempted to confute him and to cavil with him. For he remembered well that +no man has in his power another man’s ruling principle. He wished therefore for +nothing else than that which was his own. And what is this? Not that this or +that man may act according to nature, for that is a thing which belongs to +another; but that while others are doing their own acts, as they choose, he may +nevertheless be in a condition conformable to nature and live in it, only doing +what is his own to the end that others also may be in a state conformable to +nature. For this is the object always set before him by the wise and good man. +Is it to be commander (a prætor) of an army? No; but if it is permitted him, +his object is in this matter to maintain his own ruling principle. Is it to +marry? No; but if marriage is allowed to him, in this matter his object is to +maintain himself in a condition conformable to nature. But if he would have his +son not to do wrong or his wife, he would have what belongs to another not to +belong to another: and to be instructed is this, to learn what things are a +man’s own and what belongs to another. +</p> + +<p> +How then is there left any place for fighting (quarrelling) to a man who has +this opinion (which he ought to have)? Is he surprised at any thing which +happens, and does it appear new to him? Does he not expect that which comes +from the bad to be worse and more grievous than that what actually befalls him? +And does he not reckon as pure gain whatever they (the bad) may do which falls +short of extreme wickedness? Such a person has reviled you. Great thanks to him +for not having struck you. But he has struck me also. Great thanks that he did +not wound you. But he wounded me also. Great thanks that he did not kill you. +For when did he learn or in what school that man is a tame animal, that men +love one another, that an act of injustice is a great harm to him who does it. +Since then he has not learned this and is not convinced of it, why shall he not +follow that which seems to be for his own interest? Your neighbor has thrown +stones. Have you then done anything wrong? But the things in the house have +been broken. Are you then a utensil? No; but a free power of will. What then is +given to you (to do) in answer to this? If you are like a wolf, you must bite +in return, and throw more stones. But, if you consider what is proper for a +man, examine your storehouse, see with what faculties you came into the world. +Have you the disposition of a wild beast, have you the disposition of revenge +for an injury? When is a horse wretched? When he is deprived of his natural +faculties, not when he cannot crow like a cock, but when he cannot run. When is +a dog wretched? Not when he cannot fly, but when he cannot track his game. Is +then a man also unhappy in this way, not because he cannot strangle lions or +embrace statues, for he did not come into the world in the possession of +certain powers from nature for this purpose, but because he has lost his +probity and his fidelity? People ought to meet and lament such a man for the +misfortunes into which he has fallen; not indeed to lament because a man has +been born or has died, but because it has happened to him in his lifetime to +have lost the things which are his own, not that which he received from his +father, not his land and house, and his inn, and his slaves; for not one of +these things is a man’s own, but all belong to others, are servile, and subject +to account ([Greek: hupeithuna]), at different times given to different persons +by those who have them in their power: but I mean the things which belong to +him as a man, the marks (stamps) in his mind with which he came into the world, +such as we seek also on coins, and if we find them we approve of the coins, and +if we do not find the marks we reject them. What is the stamp on this +sestertius? The stamp of Trajan. Present it. It is the stamp of Nero. Throw it +away; it cannot be accepted, it is counterfeit. So also in this case: What is +the stamp of his opinions? It is gentleness, a sociable disposition, a tolerant +temper, a disposition to mutual affections. Produce these qualities. I accept +them: I consider this man a citizen, I accept him as a neighbor, a companion in +my voyages. Only see that he has not Nero’s stamp. Is he passionate, is he full +of resentment, is he fault-finding? If the whim seizes him, does he break the +heads of those who come in his way? (If so), why then did you say that he is a +man? Is everything judged (determined) by the bare form? If that is so, say +that the form in wax is an apple and has the smell and the taste of an apple. +But the external figure is not enough: neither then is the nose enough and the +eyes to make the man, but he must have the opinions of a man. Here is a man who +does not listen to reason, who does not know when he is refuted: he is an ass; +in another man the sense of shame is become dead: he is good for nothing, he is +anything rather than a man. This man seeks whom he may meet and kick or bite, +so that he is not even a sheep or an ass, but a kind of wild beast. +</p> + +<p> +What then? would you have me to be despised?—By whom? by those who know you? +and how shall those who know you despise a man who is gentle and modest? +Perhaps you mean by those who do not know you? What is that to you? For no +other artisan cares for the opinion of those who know not his art. But they +will be more hostile to me for this reason. Why do you say “me”? Can any man +injure your will, or prevent you from using in a natural way the appearances +which are presented to you? In no way can he. Why then are you still disturbed +and why do you choose to show yourself afraid? And why do you not come forth +and proclaim that you are at peace with all men whatever they may do, and laugh +at those chiefly who think that they can harm you? These slaves, you can say, +know not either who I am, nor where lies my good or my evil, because they have +no access to the things which are mine. +</p> + +<p> +In this way also those who occupy a strong city mock the besiegers (and say): +What trouble these men are now taking for nothing; our wall is secure, we have +food for a very long time, and all other resources. These are the things which +make a city strong and impregnable; but nothing else than his opinions makes a +man’s soul impregnable. For what wall is so strong, or what body is so hard, or +what possession is so safe, or what honor (rank, character) so free from +assault (as a man’s opinions)? All (other) things everywhere are perishable, +easily taken by assault, and if any man in any way is attached to them, he must +be disturbed, except what is bad, he must fear, lament, find his desires +disappointed, and fall into things which he would avoid. Then do we not choose +to make secure the only means of safety which are offered to us, and do we not +choose to withdraw ourselves from that which is perishable and servile and to +labor at the things which are imperishable and by nature free; and do we not +remember that no man either hurts another or does good to another, but that a +man’s opinions about each thing, is that which hurts him, is that which +overturns him; this is fighting, this is civil discord, this is war? That which +made Eteocles and Polynices enemies was nothing else than this opinion which +they had about royal power, their opinion about exile, that the one is the +extreme of evils, the other the greatest good. Now this is the nature of every +man to seek the good, to avoid the bad; to consider him who deprives us of the +one and involves us in the other an enemy and treacherous, even if he be a +brother, or a son, or a father. For nothing is more akin to us than the good; +therefore, if these things (externals) are good and evil, neither is a father a +friend to sons, nor a brother to a brother, but all the world is everywhere +full of enemies, treacherous men, and sycophants. But if the will ([Greek: +proairesis], the purpose, the intention) being what it ought to be, is the only +good; and if the will being such as it ought not to be, is the only evil, where +is there any strife, where is there reviling? about what? about the things +which do not concern us? and strife with whom? with the ignorant, the unhappy, +with those who are deceived about the chief things? +</p> + +<p> +Remembering this Socrates managed his own house and endured a very ill-tempered +wife and a foolish (ungrateful?) son. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +AGAINST THOSE WHO LAMENT OVER BEING PITIED.—I am grieved, a man says, at being +pitied. Whether then is the fact of your being pitied a thing which concerns +you or those who pity you? Well, is it in your power to stop this pity? It is +in my power, if I show them that I do not require pity. And whether then are +you in the condition of not deserving (requiring) pity, or are you not in that +condition? I think that I am not; but these persons do not pity me, for the +things for which, if they ought to pity me, it would be proper, I mean, for my +faults; but they pity me for my poverty, for not possessing honorable offices, +for diseases and deaths and other such things. Whether then are you prepared to +convince the many, that not one of these things is an evil, but that it is +possible for a man who is poor and has no office ([Greek: anarchonti)] and +enjoys no honor to be happy; or to show yourself to them as rich and in power? +For the second of these things belong to a man who is boastful, silly, and good +for nothing. And consider by what means the pretence must be supported. It will +be necessary for you to hire slaves and to possess a few silver vessels, and to +exhibit them in public, if it is possible, though they are often the same, and +to attempt to conceal the fact that they are the same, and to have splendid +garments, and all other things for display, and to show that you are a man +honored by the great, and to try to sup at their houses, or to be supposed to +sup there, and as to your person to employ some mean arts, that you may appear +to be more handsome and nobler than you are. These things you must contrive, if +you choose to go by the second path in order not to be pitied. But the first +way is both impracticable and long, to attempt the very thing which Zeus has +not been able to do, to convince all men what things are good and bad. Is this +power given to you? This only is given to you, to convince yourself; and you +have not convinced yourself. Then I ask you, do you attempt to persuade other +men? and who has lived so long with you as you with yourself? and who has so +much power of convincing you as you have of convincing yourself; and who is +better disposed and nearer to you than you are to yourself? How then have you +not yet convinced yourself in order to learn? At present are not things upside +down? Is this what you have been earnest about doing, to learn to be free from +grief and free from disturbance, and not to be humbled (abject), and to be +free? Have you not heard then that there is only one way which leads to this +end, to give up (dismiss) the things which do not depend on the will, to +withdraw from them, and to admit that they belong to others? For another man +then to have an opinion about you, of what kind is it? It is a thing +independent of the will—Then is it nothing to you? It is nothing. When then you +are still vexed at this and disturbed, do you think that you are convinced +about good and evil? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON FREEDOM FROM FEAR.—What makes the tyrant formidable? The guards, you say, +and their swords, and the men of the bedchamber, and those who exclude them who +would enter. Why then if you bring a boy (child) to the tyrant when he is with +his guards, is he not afraid; or is it because the child does not understand +these things? If then any man does understand what guards are and that they +have swords, and comes to the tyrant for this very purpose because he wishes to +die on account of some circumstance and seeks to die easily by the hand of +another, is he afraid of the guards? No, for he wishes for the thing which +makes the guards formidable. If then any man neither wishing to die nor to live +by all means, but only as it may be permitted, approaches the tyrant what +hinders him from approaching the tyrant without fear? Nothing. If then a man +has the same opinion about his property as the man whom I have instanced has +about his body; and also about his children and his wife, and in a word is so +affected by some madness or despair that he cares not whether he possesses them +or not, but like children who are playing with shells (quarrel) about the play, +but do not trouble themselves about the shells, so he too has set no value on +the materials (things), but values the pleasure that he has with them and the +occupation, what tyrant is then formidable to him, or what guards or what +swords? +</p> + +<p> +What hinders a man, who has clearly separated (comprehended) these things, from +living with a light heart and bearing easily the reins, quietly expecting +everything which can happen, and enduring that which has already happened? +Would you have me to bear poverty? Come and you will know what poverty is when +it has found one who can act well the part of a poor man. Would you have me to +possess power? Let me have power, and also the trouble of it. Well, banishment? +Wherever I shall go, there it will be well with me; for here also where I am, +it was not because of the place that it was well with me, but because of my +opinions which I shall carry off with me, for neither can any man deprive me of +them; but my opinions alone are mine and they cannot be taken from me, and I am +satisfied while I have them, wherever I may be and whatever I am doing. But now +it is time to die. Why do you say to die? Make no tragedy show of the thing, +but speak of it as it is. It is now time for the matter (of the body) to be +resolved into the things out of which it was composed. And what is the +formidable thing here? what is going to perish of the things which are in the +universe? what new thing or wondrous is going to happen? Is it for this reason +that a tyrant is formidable? Is it for this reason that the guards appear to +have swords which are large and sharp? Say this to others; but I have +considered about all these things; no man has power over me. I have been made +free; I know his commands, no man can now lead me as a slave. I have a proper +person to assert my freedom; I have proper judges. (I say) are you not the +master of my body? What then is that to me? Are you not the master of my +property? What then is that to me? Are you not the master of my exile or of my +chains? Well, from all these things and all the poor body itself I depart at +your bidding, when you please. Make trial of your power, and you will know how +far it reaches. +</p> + +<p> +Whom then can I still fear? Those who are over the bedchamber? Lest they should +do, what? Shut me out? If they find that I wish to enter, let them shut me out. +Why then do you go to the doors? Because I think it befits me, while the play +(sport) lasts, to join in it. How then are you not shut out? Because unless +some one allows me to go in, I do not choose to go in, but am always content +with that which happens; for I think that what God chooses is better than what +I choose. I will attach myself as a minister and follower to him; I have the +same movements (pursuits) as he has, I have the same desires; in a word, I have +the same will ([Greek: sunthelo]). There is no shutting out for me, but for +those who would force their way in. Why then do not I force my way in? Because +I know that nothing good is distributed within to those who enter. But when I +hear any man called fortunate because he is honored by Cæsar, I say what does +he happen to get? A province (the government of a province). Does he also +obtain an opinion such as he ought? The office of a Prefect. Does he also +obtain the power of using his office well? Why do I still strive to enter +(Cæsar’s chamber)? A man scatters dried figs and nuts: the children seize them, +and fight with one another; men do not, for they think them to be a small +matter. But if a man should throw about shells, even the children do not seize +them. Provinces are distributed: let children look to that. Money is +distributed; let children look to that. Prætorships, consulships, are +distributed; let children scramble for them, let them be shut out, beaten, kiss +the hands of the giver, of the slaves: but to me these are only dried figs and +nuts. What then? If you fail to get them, while Cæsar is scattering them about, +do not be troubled; if a dried fig come into your lap, take it and eat it; for +so far you may value even a fig. But if I shall stoop down and turn another +over, or be turned over by another, and shall flatter those who have got into +(Cæsar’s) chamber, neither is a dried fig worth the trouble, nor anything else +of the things which are not good, which the philosophers have persuaded me not +to think good. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +TO A PERSON WHO HAD BEEN CHANGED TO A CHARACTER OF SHAMELESSNESS.—When you see +another man in the possession of power (magistracy), set against this the fact +that you have not the want (desire) of power; when you see another rich, see +what you possess in place of riches: for if you possess nothing in place of +them, you are miserable; but if you have not the want of riches, know that you +possess more than this man possesses and what is worth much more. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +WHAT THINGS WE OUGHT TO DESPISE AND WHAT THINGS WE OUGHT TO VALUE.—The +difficulties of all men are about external things, their helplessness is about +external. What shall I do? how will it be? how will it turn out? will this +happen? will that? All these are the words of those who are turning themselves +to things which are not within the power of the will. For who says, How shall I +not assent to that which is false? how shall I not turn away from the truth? If +a man be of such a good disposition as to be anxious about these things I will +remind him of this: Why are you anxious? The thing is in your own power, be +assured; do not be precipitate in assenting before you apply the natural rule. +On the other side, if a man is anxious (uneasy) about desire, lest it fail in +its purpose and miss its end, and with respect to the avoidance of things, lest +he should fall into that which he would avoid, I will first kiss (love) him, +because he throws away the things about which others are in a flutter (others +desire) and their fears, and employs his thoughts about his own affairs and his +own condition. Then I shall say to him: If you do not choose to desire that +which you will fail to obtain nor to attempt to avoid that into which you will +fall, desire nothing which belongs to (which is in the power of) others, nor +try to avoid any of the things which are not in your power. If you do not +observe this rule, you must of necessity fail in your desires and fall into +that which you would avoid. What is the difficulty here? where is there room +for the words How will it be? and How will it turn out? and Will this happen or +that? +</p> + +<p> +Now is not that which will happen independent of the will? Yes. And the nature +of good and of evil, is it not in the things which are within the power of the +will? Yes. Is it in your power then to treat according to nature everything +which happens? Can any person hinder you? No man. No longer then say to me, How +will it be? For, however it may be, you will dispose of it well, and the result +to you will be a fortunate one. What would Hercules have been if he said: How +shall a great lion not appear to me, or a great boar, or savage men? And what +do you care for that? If a great boar appear, you will fight a greater fight; +if bad men appear, you will relieve the earth of the bad. Suppose then that I +lose my life in this way. You will die a good man, doing a noble act. For since +he must certainly die, of necessity a man must be found doing something, either +following the employment of a husbandman, or digging, or trading, or serving in +a consulship, or suffering from indigestion or from diarrhoea. What then do you +wish to be doing when you are found by death? I, for my part, would wish to be +found doing something which belongs to a man, beneficent, suitable to the +general interest, noble. But if I cannot be found doing things so great, I +would be found doing at least that which I cannot be hindered from doing, that +which is permitted me to do, correcting myself, cultivating the faculty which +makes use of appearances, laboring at freedom from the affects (laboring at +tranquillity of mind); rendering to the relations of life their due. If I +succeed so far, also (I would be found) touching on (advancing to) the third +topic (or head) safety in forming judgments about things. If death surprises me +when I am busy about these things, it is enough for me if I can stretch out my +hands to God and say: The means which I have received from thee for seeing thy +administration (of the world) and following it I have not neglected; I have not +dishonored thee by my acts; see how I have used my perceptions, see how I have +used my preconceptions; have I ever blamed thee? have I been discontented with +anything that happens, or wished it to be otherwise? have I wished to +transgress the (established) relations (of things)? That thou hast given me +life, I thank thee for what thou hast given. So long as I have used the things +which are thine I am content. Take them back and place them wherever thou +mayest choose, for thine were all things, thou gavest them to me. Is it not +enough to depart in this state of mind? and what life is better and more +becoming than that of a man who is in this state of mind? and what end is more +happy? +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ABOUT PURITY (CLEANLINESS).—Some persons raise a question whether the social +feeling is contained in the nature of man; and yet I think that these same +persons would have no doubt that love of purity is certainly contained in it, +and that if man is distinguished from other animals by anything, he is +distinguished by this. When then we see any other animal cleaning itself, we +are accustomed to speak of the act with surprise, and to add that the animal is +acting like a man; and on the other hand, if a man blames an animal for being +dirty, straightway, as if we were making an excuse for it, we say that of +course the animal is not a human creature. So we suppose that there is +something superior in man, and that we first receive it from the gods. For +since the gods by their nature are pure and free from corruption, so far as men +approach them by reason, so far do they cling to purity and to a love (habit) +of purity. But since it is impossible that man’s nature ([Greek: ousia]) can be +altogether pure, being mixed (composed) of such materials, reason is applied, +as far as it is possible, and reason endeavors to make human nature love +purity. +</p> + +<p> +The first then and highest purity is that which is in the soul; and we say the +same of impurity. Now you could not discover the impurity of the soul as you +could discover that of the body; but as to the soul, what else could you find +in it than that which makes it filthy in respect to the acts which are her own? +Now the acts of the soul are movement towards an object or movement from it, +desire, aversion, preparation, design (purpose), assent. What then is it which +in these acts makes the soul filthy and impure? Nothing else than her own bad +judgments ([Greek: chrimata]). Consequently the impurity of the soul is the +soul’s bad opinions; and the purification of the soul is the planting in it of +proper opinions; and the soul is pure which has proper opinions, for the soul +alone in her own acts is free from perturbation and pollution. +</p> + +<p> +For we ought not even by the appearance of the body to deter the multitude from +philosophy; but as in other things, a philosopher should show himself cheerful +and tranquil, so also he should in the things that relate to the body. See, ye +men, that I have nothing, that I want nothing; see how I am without a house, +and without a city, and an exile, if it happens to be so, and without a hearth +I live more free from trouble and more happily than all of noble birth and than +the rich. But look at my poor body also and observe that it is not injured by +my hard way of living. But if a man says this to me, who has the appearance +(dress) and face of a condemned man, what god shall persuade me to approach +philosophy, if it makes men such persons? Far from it; I would not choose to do +so, even if I were going to become a wise man. I indeed would rather that a +young man, who is making his first movements towards philosophy, should come to +me with his hair carefully trimmed than with it dirty and rough, for there is +seen in him a certain notion (appearance) of beauty and a desire of (attempt +at) that which is becoming; and where he supposes it to be, there also he +strives that it shall be. It is only necessary to show him (what it is), and to +say: Young man, you seek beauty, and you do well; you must know then that it +(is produced) grows in that part of you where you have the rational faculty; +seek it there where you have the movements towards and movements from things, +where you have the desires towards and the aversion from things; for this is +what you have in yourself of a superior kind; but the poor body is naturally +only earth; why do you labor about it to no purpose? if you shall learn nothing +else, you will learn from time that the body is nothing. But if a man comes to +me daubed with filth, dirty, with a moustache down to his knees, what can I say +to him, by what kind of resemblance can I lead him on? For about what has he +busied himself which resembles beauty, that I may be able to change him and +say, Beauty is not in this, but in that? Would you have me to tell him, that +beauty consists not in being daubed with muck, but that it lies in the rational +part? Has he any desire of beauty? has he any form of it in his mind? Go and +talk to a hog, and tell him not to roll in the mud. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +ON ATTENTION.—When you have remitted your attention for a short time, do not +imagine this, that you will recover it when you choose; but let this thought be +present to you, that in consequence of the fault committed today your affairs +must be in a worse condition for all that follows. For first, and what causes +most trouble, a habit of not attending is formed in you; then a habit of +deferring your attention. And continually from time to time you drive away by +deferring it the happiness of life, proper behavior, the being and living +conformably to nature. If then the procrastination of attention is profitable, +the complete omission of attention is more profitable; but if it is not +profitable, why do you not maintain your attention constant? Today I choose to +play. Well then, ought you not to play with attention? I choose to sing. What +then hinders you from doing so with attention? Is there any part of life +excepted, to which attention does not extend? For will you do it (anything in +life) worse by using attention, and better by not attending at all? And what +else of the things in life is done better by those who do not use attention? +Does he who works in wood work better by not attending to it? Does the captain +of a ship manage it better by not attending? and are any of the smaller acts +done better by inattention? Do you not see that when you have let your mind +loose, it is no longer in your power to recall it, either to propriety, or to +modesty, or to moderation; but you do everything that comes into your mind in +obedience to your inclinations. +</p> + +<p> +First then we ought to have these (rules) in readiness, and to do nothing +without them, and we ought to keep the soul directed to this mark, to pursue +nothing external, and nothing which belongs to others (or is in the power of +others), but to do as he has appointed who has the power; we ought to pursue +altogether the things which are in the power of the will, and all other things +as it is permitted. Next to this we ought to remember who we are, and what is +our name, and to endeavor to direct our duties towards the character (nature) +of our several relations (in life) in this manner: what is the season for +singing, what is the season for play, and in whose presence; what will be the +consequence of the act; whether our associates will despise us, whether we +shall despise them; when to jeer ([Greek: schopsai]), and whom to ridicule; and +on what occasion to comply and with whom; and finally, in complying how to +maintain our own character. But wherever you have deviated from any of these +rules, there is damage immediately, not from anything external, but from the +action itself. +</p> + +<p> +What then? is it possible to be free from faults (if you do all this)? It is +not possible; but this is possible, to direct your efforts incessantly to being +faultless. For we must be content if by never remitting this attention we shall +escape at least a few errors. But now when you have said, Tomorrow I will begin +to attend, you must be told that you are saying this, Today I will be +shameless, disregardful of time and place, mean; it will be in the power of +others to give me pain; today I will be passionate and envious. See how many +evil things you are permitting yourself to do. If it is good to use attention +tomorrow, how much better is it to do so today? if tomorrow it is in your +interest to attend, much more is it today, that you may be able to do so +tomorrow also, and may not defer it again to the third day. +</p> + +<hr/> + +<p> +AGAINST OR TO THOSE WHO READILY TELL THEIR OWN AFFAIRS.—When a man has seemed +to us to have talked with simplicity (candor) about his own affairs, how is it +that at last we are ourselves also induced to discover to him our own secrets +and we think this to be candid behavior? In the first place, because it seems +unfair for a man to have listened to the affairs of his neighbor, and not to +communicate to him also in turn our own affairs; next, because we think that we +shall not present to them the appearance of candid men when we are silent about +our own affairs. Indeed, men are often accustomed to say, I have told you all +my affairs, will you tell me nothing of your own? where is this done? Besides, +we have also this opinion that we can safely trust him who has already told us +his own affairs; for the notion rises in our mind that this man could never +divulge our affairs because he would be cautious that we also should not +divulge his. In this way also the incautious are caught by the soldiers at +Rome. A soldier sits by you in a common dress and begins to speak ill of Cæsar; +then you, as if you had received a pledge of his fidelity by his having begun +the abuse, utter yourself also what you think, and then you are carried off in +chains. +</p> + +<p> +Something of this kind happens to us also generally. Now as this man has +confidently intrusted his affairs to me, shall I also do so to any man whom I +meet? (No), for when I have heard, I keep silence, if I am of such a +disposition; but he goes forth and tells all men what he has heard. Then, if I +hear what has been done, if I be a man like him, I resolve to be revenged, I +divulge what he has told me; I both disturb others, and am disturbed myself. +But if I remember that one man does not injure another, and that every man’s +acts injure and profit him, I secure this, that I do not anything like him, but +still I suffer what I do suffer through my own silly talk. +</p> + +<p> +True, but it is unfair when you have heard the secrets of your neighbor for you +in your turn to communicate nothing to him. Did I ask you for your secrets, my +man? did you communicate your affairs on certain terms, that you should in +return hear mine also? If you are a babbler and think that all who meet you are +friends, do you wish me also to be like you? But why, if you did well in +intrusting your affairs to me, and it is not well for me to intrust mine to +you, do you wish me to be so rash? It is just the same as if I had a cask which +is water-tight, and you one with a hole in it, and you should come and deposit +with me your wine that I might put it into my cask, and then should complain +that I also did not intrust my wine to you, for you have a cask with a hole in +it. How then is there any equality here? You intrusted your affairs to a man +who is faithful and modest, to a man who thinks that his own actions alone are +injurious and (or) useful, and that nothing external is. Would you have me +intrust mine to you, a man who has dishonored his own faculty of will, and who +wishes to gain some small bit of money or some office or promotion in the court +(emperor’s palace), even if you should be going to murder your own children, +like Medea? Where (in what) is this equality (fairness)? But show yourself to +me to be faithful, modest, and steady; show me that you have friendly opinions; +show that your cask has no hole in it; and you will see how I shall not wait +for you to trust me with your own affairs, but I myself shall come to you and +ask you to hear mine. For who does not choose to make use of a good vessel? Who +does not value a benevolent and faithful adviser? Who will not willingly +receive a man who is ready to bear a share, as we may say, of the difficulty of +his circumstances, and by this very act to ease the burden, by taking a part of +it. +</p> + +<hr/> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE ENCHEIRIDION, OR MANUAL.</h2> <h3>I.</h3> + +<p> +Of things some are in our power, and others are not. In our power are opinion +([Greek: hupolaepsis]), movement towards a thing ([Greek: hormae]), desire, +aversion ([Greek: echchlisis]), turning from a thing; and in a word, whatever +are our acts. Not in our power are the body, property, reputation, offices +(magisterial power), and in a word, whatever are not our own acts. And the +things in our power are by nature free, not subject to restraint or hindrance; +but the things not in our power are weak, slavish, subject to restraint, in the +power of others. Remember then, that if you think the things which are by +nature slavish to be free, and the things which are in the power of others to +be your own, you will be hindered, you will lament, you will be disturbed, you +will blame both gods and men; but if you think that only which is your own to +be your own, and if you think that what is another’s, as it really is, belongs +to another, no man will ever compel you, no man will hinder you, you will never +blame any man, you will accuse no man, you will do nothing involuntarily +(against your will), no man will harm you, you will have no enemy, for you will +not suffer any harm. +</p> + +<p> +If then you desire (aim at) such great things remember that you must not +(attempt to) lay hold of them with a small effort; but you must leave alone +some things entirely, and postpone others for the present. But if you wish for +these things also (such great things), and power (office) and wealth, perhaps +you will not gain even these very things (power and wealth) because you aim +also at those former things (such great things); certainly you will fail in +those things through which alone happiness and freedom are secured. Straightway +then practise saying to every harsh appearance: You are an appearance, and in +no manner what you appear to be. Then examine it by the rules which you +possess, and by this first and chiefly, whether it relates to the things which +are in our power or to things which are not in our power; and if it relates to +anything which is not in our power, be ready to say that it does not concern +you. +</p> + +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p> +Remember that desire contains in it the profession (hope) of obtaining that +which you desire; and the profession (hope) in aversion (turning from a thing) +is that you will not fall into that which you attempt to avoid; and he who +fails in his desire is unfortunate; and he who falls into that which he would +avoid is unhappy. If then you attempt to avoid only the things contrary to +nature which are within your power you will not be involved in any of the +things which you would avoid. But if you attempt to avoid disease, or death, or +poverty, you will be unhappy. Take away then aversion from all things which are +not in our power, and transfer it to the things contrary to nature which are in +our power. But destroy desire completely for the present. For if you desire +anything which is not in our power, you must be unfortunate; but of the things +in our power, and which it would be good to desire, nothing yet is before you. +But employ only the power of moving towards an object and retiring from it; and +these powers indeed only slightly and with exceptions and with remission. +</p> + +<h3>III.</h3> + +<p> +In everything which pleases the soul, or supplies a want, or is loved, remember +to add this to the (description, notion): What is the nature of each thing, +beginning from the smallest? If you love an earthen vessel, say it is an +earthen vessel which you love; for when it has been broken you will not be +disturbed. If you are kissing your child or wife, say that it is a human being +whom you are kissing, for when the wife or child dies you will not be +disturbed. +</p> + +<h3>IV.</h3> + +<p> +When you are going to take in hand any act remind yourself what kind of an act +it is. If you are going to bathe, place before yourself what happens in the +bath; some splashing the water, others pushing against one another, others +abusing one another, and some stealing; and thus with more safety you will +undertake the matter, if you say to yourself, I now intend to bathe, and to +maintain my will in a manner conformable to nature. And so you will do in every +act; for thus if any hindrance to bathing shall happen let this thought be +ready. It was not this only that I intended, but I intended also to maintain my +will in a way conformable to nature; but I shall not maintain it so if I am +vexed at what happens. +</p> + +<h3>V.</h3> + +<p> +Men are disturbed not by the things which happen, but by the opinions about the +things; for example, death is nothing terrible, for if it were it would have +seemed so to Socrates; for the opinion about death that it is terrible, is the +terrible thing. When then we are impeded, or disturbed, or grieved, let us +never blame others, but ourselves—that is, our opinions. It is the act of an +ill-instructed man to blame others for his own bad condition; it is the act of +one who has begun to be instructed, to lay the blame on himself; and of one +whose instruction is completed, neither to blame another, nor himself. +</p> + +<h3>VI.</h3> + +<p> +Be not elated at any advantage (excellence) which belongs to another. If a +horse when he is elated should say, I am beautiful, one might endure it. But +when you are elated, and say, I have a beautiful horse, you must know that you +are elated at having a good horse. What then is your own? The use of +appearances. Consequently when in the use of appearances you are conformable to +nature, then be elated, for then you will be elated at something good which is +your own. +</p> + +<h3>VII.</h3> + +<p> +As on a voyage when the vessel has reached a port, if you go out to get water +it is an amusement by the way to pick up a shellfish or some bulb, but your +thoughts ought to be directed to the ship, and you ought to be constantly +watching if the captain should call, and then you must throw away all those +things, that you may not be bound and pitched into the ship like sheep. So in +life also, if there be given to you instead of a little bulb and a shell a wife +and child, there will be nothing to prevent (you from taking them). But if the +captain should call, run to the ship and leave all those things without regard +to them. But if you are old, do not even go far from the ship, lest when you +are called you make default. +</p> + +<h3>VIII.</h3> + +<p> +Seek not that the things which happen should happen as you wish; but wish the +things which happen to be as they are, and you will have a tranquil flow of +life. +</p> + +<h3>IX.</h3> + +<p> +Disease is an impediment to the body, but not to the will, unless the will +itself chooses. Lameness is an impediment to the leg, but not to the will. And +add this reflection on the occasion of everything that happens; for you will +find it an impediment to something else, but not to yourself. +</p> + +<h3>X.</h3> + +<p> +On the occasion of every accident (event) that befalls you, remember to turn to +yourself and inquire what power you have for turning it to use. If you see a +fair man or a fair woman, you will find that the power to resist is temperance +(continence). If labor (pain) be presented to you, you will find that it is +endurance. If it be abusive words, you will find it to be patience. And if you +have been thus formed to the (proper) habit, the appearances will not carry you +along with them. +</p> + +<h3>XI.</h3> + +<p> +Never say about anything, I have lost it, but say I have restored it. Is your +child dead? It has been restored. Is your wife dead? She has been restored. Has +your estate been taken from you? Has not then this also been restored? But he +who has taken it from me is a bad man. But what is it to you, by whose hands +the giver demanded it back? So long as he may allow you, take care of it as a +thing which belongs to another, as travellers do with their inn. +</p> + +<h3>XII.</h3> + +<p> +If you intend to improve, throw away such thoughts as these: if I neglect my +affairs, I shall not have the means of living: unless I chastise my slave, he +will be bad. For it is better to die of hunger and so to be released from grief +and fear than to live in abundance with perturbation; and it is better for your +slave to be bad than for you to be unhappy. Begin then from little things. Is +the oil spilled? Is a little wine stolen? Say on the occasion, at such price is +sold freedom from perturbation; at such price is sold tranquillity, but nothing +is got for nothing. And when you call your slave, consider that it is possible +that he does not hear; and if he does hear, that he will do nothing which you +wish. But matters are not so well with him, but altogether well with you, that +it should be in his power for you to be not disturbed. +</p> + +<h3>XIII.</h3> + +<p> +If you would improve, submit to be considered without sense and foolish with +respect to externals. Wish to be considered to know nothing; and if you shall +seem to some to be a person of importance, distrust yourself. For you should +know that it is not easy both to keep your will in a condition conformable to +nature and (to secure) external things: but if a man is careful about the one, +it is an absolute necessity that he will neglect the other. +</p> + +<h3>XIV.</h3> + +<p> +If you would have your children and your wife and your friends to live for +ever, you are silly; for you would have the things which are not in your power +to be in your power, and the things which belong to others to be yours. So if +you would have your slave to be free from faults, you are a fool; for you would +have badness not to be badness, but something else. But if you wish not to fail +in your desires, you are able to do that. Practise then this which you are able +to do. He is the master of every man who has the power over the things which +another person wishes or does not wish, the power to confer them on him or to +take them away. Whoever then wishes to be free let him neither wish for +anything nor avoid anything which depends on others: if he does not observe +this rule, he must be a slave. +</p> + +<h3>XV.</h3> + +<p> +Remember that in life you ought to behave as at a banquet. Suppose that +something is carried round and is opposite to you. Stretch out your hand and +take a portion with decency. Suppose that it passes by you. Do not detain it. +Suppose that it is not yet come to you. Do not send your desire forward to it, +but wait till it is opposite to you. Do so with respect to children, so with +respect to a wife, so with respect to magisterial offices, so with respect to +wealth, and you will be some time a worthy partner of the banquets of the gods. +But if you take none of the things which are set before you, and even despise +them, then you will be not only a fellow banqueter with the gods, but also a +partner with them in power. For by acting thus Diogenes and Heracleitus and +those like them were deservedly divine, and were so called. +</p> + +<h3>XVI.</h3> + +<p> +When you see a person weeping in sorrow either when a child goes abroad or when +he is dead, or when the man has lost his property, take care that the +appearance do not hurry you away with it, as if he were suffering in external +things. But straightway make a distinction in your own mind, and be in +readiness to say, it is not that which has happened that afflicts this man, for +it does not afflict another, but it is the opinion about this thing which +afflicts the man. So far as words then do not be unwilling to show him +sympathy, and even if it happens so, to lament with him. But take care that you +do not lament internally also. +</p> + +<h3>XVII.</h3> + +<p> +Remember that thou art an actor in a play, of such a kind as the teacher +(author) may choose; if short, of a short one; if long, of a long one: if he +wishes you to act the part of a poor man, see that you act the part naturally; +if the part of a lame man, of a magistrate, of a private person, (do the same). +For this is your duty, to act well the part that is given to you; but to select +the part, belongs to another. +</p> + +<h3>XVIII.</h3> + +<p> +When a raven has croaked inauspiciously, let not the appearance hurry you away +with it; but straightway make a distinction in your mind and say, None of these +things is signified to me, but either to my poor body, or to my small property, +or to my reputation, or to my children, or to my wife: but to me all +significations are auspicious if I choose. For whatever of these things +results, it is in my power to derive benefit from it. +</p> + +<h3>XIX.</h3> + +<p> +You can be invincible, if you enter into no contest in which it is not in your +power to conquer. Take care then when you observe a man honored before others +or possessed of great power or highly esteemed for any reason, not to suppose +him happy, and be not carried away by the appearance. For if the nature of the +good is in our power, neither envy nor jealousy will have a place in us. But +you yourself will not wish to be a general or senator ([Greek: prutanis]) or +consul, but a free man: and there is only one way to this, to despise (care not +for) the things which are not in our power. +</p> + +<h3>XX.</h3> + +<p> +Remember that it is not he who reviles you or strikes you, who insults you, but +it is your opinion about these things as being insulting. When then a man +irritates you, you must know that it is your own opinion which has irritated +you. Therefore especially try not to be carried away by the appearance. For if +you once gain time and delay, you will more easily master yourself. +</p> + +<h3>XXI.</h3> + +<p> +Let death and exile and every other thing which appears dreadful be daily +before your eyes; but most of all death: and you will never think of anything +mean nor will you desire anything extravagantly. +</p> + +<h3>XXII.</h3> + +<p> +If you desire philosophy, prepare yourself from the beginning to be ridiculed, +to expect that many will sneer at you, and say, He has all at once returned to +us as a philosopher; and whence does he get this supercilious look for us? Do +you not show a supercilious look; but hold on to the things which seem to you +best as one appointed by God to this station. And remember that if you abide in +the same principles, these men who first ridiculed will afterwards admire you; +but if you shall have been overpowered by them, you will bring on yourself +double ridicule. +</p> + +<h3>XXIII.</h3> + +<p> +If it should ever happen to you to be turned to externals in order to please +some person, you must know that you have lost your purpose in life. Be +satisfied then in everything with being a philosopher; and if you wish to seem +also to any person to be a philosopher, appear so to yourself, and you will be +able to do this. +</p> + +<h3>XXIV.</h3> + +<p> +Let not these thoughts afflict you, I shall live unhonored and be nobody +nowhere. For if want of honor ([Greek: atimia]) is an evil, you cannot be in +evil through the means (fault) of another any more than you can be involved in +anything base. Is it then your business to obtain the rank of a magistrate, or +to be received at a banquet? By no means. How then can this be want of honor +(dishonor)? And how will you be nobody nowhere, when you ought to be somebody +in those things only which are in your power, in which indeed it is permitted +to you to be a man of the greatest worth? But your friends will be without +assistance! What do you mean by being without assistance? They will not receive +money from you, nor will you make them Roman citizens. Who then told you that +these are among the things which are in our power, and not in the power of +others? And who can give to another what he has not himself? Acquire money +then, your friends say, that we also may have something. If I can acquire money +and also keep myself modest and faithful and magnanimous, point out the way, +and I will acquire it. But if you ask me to lose the things which are good and +my own, in order that you may gain the things which are not good, see how +unfair and silly you are. Besides, which would you rather have, money or a +faithful and modest friend? For this end then rather help me to be such a man, +and do not ask me to do this by which I shall lose that character. But my +country, you say, as far as it depends on me, will be without my help. I ask +again, what help do you mean? It will not have porticos or baths through you. +And what does this mean? For it is not furnished with shoes by means of a +smith, nor with arms by means of a shoemaker. But it is enough if every man +fully discharges the work that is his own: and if you provided it with another +citizen faithful and modest, would you not be useful to it? Yes. Then you also +cannot be useless to it. What place then, you say, shall I hold in the city? +Whatever you can, if you maintain at the same time your fidelity and modesty. +But if when you wish to be useful to the state, you shall lose these qualities, +what profit could you be to it, if you were made shameless and faithless? +</p> + +<h3>XXV.</h3> + +<p> +Has any man been preferred before you at a banquet, or in being saluted, or in +being invited to a consultation? If these things are good, you ought to rejoice +that he has obtained them; but if bad, be not grieved because you have not +obtained them. And remember that you cannot, if you do not the same things in +order to obtain what is not in our own power, be considered worthy of the same +(equal) things. For how can a man obtain an equal share with another when he +does not visit a man’s doors as that other man does; when he does not attend +him when he goes abroad, as the other man does; when he does not praise +(flatter) him as another does? You will be unjust then and insatiable, if you +do not part with the price, in return for which those things are sold, and if +you wish to obtain them for nothing. Well, what is the price of lettuces? An +obolus perhaps. If then a man gives up the obolus, and receives the lettuces, +and if you do not give up the obolus and do not obtain the lettuces, do not +suppose that you receive less than he who has got the lettuces; for as he has +the lettuces, so you have the obolus which you did not give. In the same way +then in the other matter also you have not been invited to a man’s feast, for +you did not give to the host the price at which the supper is sold; but he +sells it for praise (flattery), he sells it for personal attention. Give then +the price, if it is for your interest, for which it is sold. But if you wish +both not to give the price and to obtain the things, you are insatiable and +silly. Have you nothing then in place of the supper? You have indeed, you have +the not flattering of him, whom you did not choose to flatter; you have the not +enduring of the man when he enters the room. +</p> + +<h3>XXVI.</h3> + +<p> +We may learn the wish (will) of nature from the things in which we do not +differ from one another: for instance, when your neighbor’s slave has broken +his cup, or anything else, we are ready to say forthwith, that it is one of the +things which happen. You must know then that when your cup also is broken, you +ought to think as you did when your neighbor’s cup was broken. Transfer this +reflection to greater things also. Is another man’s child or wife dead? There +is no one who would not say, This is an event incident to man. But when a man’s +own child or wife is dead, forthwith he calls out, Woe to me, how wretched I +am! But we ought to remember how we feel when we hear that it has happened to +others. +</p> + +<h3>XXVII.</h3> + +<p> +As a mark is not set up for the purpose of missing the aim, so neither does the +nature of evil exist in the world. +</p> + +<h3>XXVIII.</h3> + +<p> +If any person was intending to put your body in the power of any man whom you +fell in with on the way, you would be vexed; but that you put your +understanding in the power of any man whom you meet, so that if he should +revile you, it is disturbed and troubled, are you not ashamed at this? +</p> + +<h3>XXIX.</h3> + +<p> +In every act observe the things which come first, and those which follow it; +and so proceed to the act. If you do not, at first you will approach it with +alacrity, without having thought of the things which will follow; but +afterwards, when certain base (ugly) things have shown themselves, you will be +ashamed. A man wishes to conquer at the Olympic games. I also wish indeed, for +it is a fine thing. But observe both the things which come first, and the +things which follow; and then begin the act. You must do everything according +to rule, eat according to strict orders, abstain from delicacies, exercise +yourself as you are bid at appointed times, in heat, in cold, you must not +drink cold water, nor wine as you choose; in a word, you must deliver yourself +up to the exercise master as you do to the physician, and then proceed to the +contest. And sometimes you will strain the hand, put the ankle out of joint, +swallow much dust, sometimes be flogged, and after all this be defeated. When +you have considered all this, if you still choose, go to the contest: if you do +not you will behave like children, who at one time play at wrestlers, another +time as flute players, again as gladiators, then as trumpeters, then as tragic +actors. So you also will be at one time an athlete, at another a gladiator, +then a rhetorician, then a philosopher, but with your whole soul you will be +nothing at all; but like an ape you imitate everything that you see, and one +thing after another pleases you. For you have not undertaken anything with +consideration, nor have you surveyed it well; but carelessly and with cold +desire. Thus some who have seen a philosopher and having heard one speak, as +Euphrates speaks—and who can speak as he does?—they wish to be philosophers +themselves also. My man, first of all consider what kind of thing it is; and +then examine your own nature, if you are able to sustain the character. Do you +wish to be a pentathlete or a wrestler? Look at your arms, your thighs, examine +your loins. For different men are formed by nature for different things. Do you +think that if you do these things, you can eat in the same manner, drink in the +same manner, and in the same manner loathe certain things? You must pass +sleepless nights, endure toil, go away from your kinsmen, be despised by a +slave, in everything have the inferior part, in honor, in office, in the courts +of justice, in every little matter. Consider these things, if you would +exchange for them, freedom from passions, liberty, tranquillity. If not, take +care that, like little children, you be not now a philosopher, then a servant +of the publicani, then a rhetorician, then a procurator (manager) for Cæsar. +These things are not consistent. You must be one man, either good or bad. You +must either cultivate your own ruling faculty, or external things. You must +either exercise your skill on internal things or on external things; that is +you must either maintain the position of a philosopher or that of a common +person. +</p> + +<h3>XXX.</h3> + +<p> +Duties are universally measured by relations ([Greek: tais schsesi]). Is a man +a father? The precept is to take care of him, to yield to him in all things, to +submit when he is reproachful, when he inflicts blows. But suppose that he is a +bad father. Were you then by nature made akin to a good father? No; but to a +father. Does a brother wrong you? Maintain then your own position towards him, +and do not examine what he is doing, but what you must do that your will shall +be conformable to nature. For another will not damage you, unless you choose: +but you will be damaged then when you shall think that you are damaged. In this +way then you will discover your duty from the relation of a neighbor, from that +of a citizen, from that of a general, if you are accustomed to contemplate the +relations. +</p> + +<h3>XXXI.</h3> + +<p> +As to piety towards the gods you must know that this is the chief thing, to +have right opinions about them, to think that they exist, and that they +administer the All well and justly; and you must fix yourself in this principle +(duty), to obey them, and to yield to them in everything which happens, and +voluntarily to follow it as being accomplished by the wisest intelligence. For +if you do so, you will never either blame the gods, nor will you accuse them of +neglecting you. And it is not possible for this to be done in any other way +than by withdrawing from the things which are not in our power, and by placing +the good and the evil only in those things which are in our power. For if you +think that any of the things which are not in our power is good or bad, it is +absolutely necessary that, when you do not obtain what you wish, and when you +fall into those things which you do not wish, you will find fault and hate +those who are the cause of them; for every animal is formed by nature to this, +to fly from and to turn from the things which appear harmful and the things +which are the cause of the harm, but to follow and admire the things which are +useful and the causes of the useful. It is impossible then for a person who +thinks that he is harmed to be delighted with that which he thinks to be the +cause of the harm, as it is also impossible to be pleased with the harm itself. +For this reason also a father is reviled by his son, when he gives no part to +his son of the things which are considered to be good; and it was this which +made Polynices and Eteocles enemies, the opinion that royal power was a good. +It is for this reason that the cultivator of the earth reviles the gods, for +this reason the sailor does, and the merchant, and for this reason those who +lose their wives and their children. For where the useful (your interest) is, +there also piety is. Consequently he who takes care to desire as he ought and +to avoid ([Greek: echchlinein]) as he ought, at the same time also cares after +piety. But to make libations and to sacrifice and to offer first-fruits +according to the custom of our fathers, purely and not meanly nor carelessly +nor scantily nor above our ability, is a thing which belongs to all to do. +</p> + +<h3>XXXII.</h3> + +<p> +When you have recourse to divination, remember that you do not know how it will +turn out, but that you are come to inquire from the diviner. But of what kind +it is, you know when you come, if indeed you are a philosopher. For if it is +any of the things which are not in our power, it is absolutely necessary that +it must be neither good nor bad. Do not then bring to the diviner desire or +aversion ([Greek: echchlinein]): if you do, you will approach him with fear. +But having determined in your mind that everything which shall turn out +(result) is indifferent, and does not concern you, and whatever it may be, for +it will be in your power to use it well, and no man will hinder this, come then +with confidence to the gods as your advisers. And then when any advice shall +have been given, remember whom you have taken as advisers, and whom you will +have neglected, if you do not obey them. And go to divination, as Socrates said +that you ought, about those matters in which all the inquiry has reference to +the result, and in which means are not given either by reason nor by any other +art for knowing the thing which is the subject of the inquiry. Wherefore when +we ought to share a friend’s danger, or that of our country, you must not +consult the diviner whether you ought to share it. For even if the diviner +shall tell you that the signs of the victims are unlucky, it is plain that this +is a token of death, or mutilation of part of the body, or of exile. But reason +prevails, that even with these risks, we should share the dangers of our +friend, and of our country. Therefore attend to the greater diviner, the +Pythian god, who ejected from the temple him who did not assist his friend, +when he was being murdered. +</p> + +<h3>XXXIII.</h3> + +<p> +Immediately prescribe some character and some form to yourself, which you shall +observe both when you are alone and when you meet with men. +</p> + +<p> +And let silence be the general rule, or let only what is necessary be said, and +in few words. And rarely, and when the occasion calls, we shall say something; +but about none of the common subjects, not about gladiators, nor horse-races, +nor about athletes, nor about eating or drinking, which are the usual subjects; +and especially not about men, as blaming them or praising them, or comparing +them. If then you are able, bring over by your conversation, the conversation +of your associates, to that which is proper; but if you should happen to be +confined to the company of strangers, be silent. +</p> + +<p> +Let not your laughter be much, nor on many occasions, nor excessive. +</p> + +<p> +Refuse altogether to take an oath, if it is possible; if it is not, refuse as +far as you are able. +</p> + +<p> +Avoid banquets which are given by strangers and by ignorant persons. But if +ever there is occasion to join in them, let your attention be carefully fixed, +that you slip not into the manners of the vulgar (the uninstructed). For you +must know, that if your companion be impure, he also who keeps company with him +must become impure, though he should happen to be pure. +</p> + +<p> +Take (apply) the things which relate to the body as far as the bare use, as +food, drink, clothing, house, and slaves; but exclude everything which is for +show or luxury. +</p> + +<p> +As to pleasure with women, abstain as far as you can before marriage; but if +you do indulge in it, do it in the way which is conformable to custom. Do not +however be disagreeable to those who indulge in these pleasures, or reprove +them; and do not often boast that you do not indulge in them yourself. +</p> + +<p> +If a man has reported to you, that a certain person speaks ill of you, do not +make any defence (answer) to what has been told you; but reply, The man did not +know the rest of my faults, for he would not have mentioned these only. +</p> + +<p> +It is not necessary to go to the theatres often: but if there is ever a proper +occasion for going, do not show yourself as being a partisan of any man except +yourself, that is, desire only that to be done which is done, and for him only +to gain the prize who gains the prize; for in this way you will meet with no +hindrance. But abstain entirely from shouts and laughter at any (thing or +person), or violent emotions. And when you are come away, do not talk much +about what has passed on the stage, except about that which may lead to your +own improvement. For it is plain, if you do talk much, that you admired the +spectacle (more than you ought). +</p> + +<p> +Do not go to the hearing of certain persons’ recitations, nor visit them +readily. But if you do attend, observe gravity and sedateness, and also avoid +making yourself disagreeable. +</p> + +<p> +When you are going to meet with any person, and particularly one of those who +are considered to be in a superior condition, place before yourself what +Socrates or Zeno would have done in such circumstances, and you will have no +difficulty in making a proper use of the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +When you are going to any of those who are in great power, place before +yourself that you will not find the man at home, that you will be excluded, +that the door will not be opened to you, that the man will not care about you. +And if with all this it is your duty to visit him, bear what happens, and never +say to yourself that it was not worth the trouble. For this is silly, and marks +the character of a man who is offended by externals. +</p> + +<p> +In company take care not to speak much and excessively about your own acts or +dangers; for as it is pleasant to you to make mention of your own dangers, it +is not so pleasant to others to hear what has happened to you. Take care also +not to provoke laughter; for this is a slippery way towards vulgar habits, and +is also adapted to diminish the respect of your neighbors. It is a dangerous +habit also to approach obscene talk. When then, anything of this kind happens, +if there is a good opportunity, rebuke the man who has proceeded to this talk; +but if there is not an opportunity, by your silence at least, and blushing and +expression of dissatisfaction by your countenance, show plainly that you are +displeased at such talk. +</p> + +<h3>XXXIV.</h3> + +<p> +If you have received the impression ([Greek: phantasion]) of any pleasure, +guard yourself against being carried away by it; but let the thing wait for +you, and allow yourself a certain delay on your own part. Then think of both +times, of the time when you will enjoy the pleasure, and of the time after the +enjoyment of the pleasure, when you will repent and will reproach yourself. And +set against these things how you will rejoice, if you have abstained from the +pleasure, and how you will commend yourself. But if it seem to you seasonable +to undertake (do) the thing, take care that the charm of it, and the pleasure, +and the attraction of it shall not conquer you; but set on the other side the +consideration, how much better it is to be conscious that you have gained this +victory. +</p> + +<h3>XXXV.</h3> + +<p> +When you have decided that a thing ought to be done, and are doing it, never +avoid being seen doing it, though the many shall form an unfavorable opinion +about it. For if it is not right to do it, avoid doing the thing; but if it is +right, why are you afraid of those who shall find fault wrongly? +</p> + +<h3>XXXVI.</h3> + +<p> +As the proposition, it is either day, or it is night, is of great importance +for the disjunctive argument, but for the conjunctive, is of no value, so in a +symposium (entertainment) to select the larger share is of great value for the +body, but for the maintenance of the social feeling is worth nothing. When, +then, you are eating with another, remember, to look not only to the value for +the body of the things set before you, but also to the value of the behavior +towards the host which ought to be observed. +</p> + +<h3>XXXVII.</h3> + +<p> +If you have assumed a character above your strength, you have both acted in +this manner in an unbecoming way, and you have neglected that which you might +have fulfilled. +</p> + +<h3>XXXVIII.</h3> + +<p> +In walking about, as you take care not to step on a nail, or to sprain your +foot, so take care not to damage your own ruling faculty; and if we observe +this rule in every act, we shall undertake this act with more security. +</p> + +<h3>XXXIX.</h3> + +<p> +The measure of possession (property) is to every man the body, as the foot is +of the shoe. If then you stand on this rule (the demands of the body), you will +maintain the measure; but if you pass beyond it, you must then of necessity be +hurried as it were down a precipice. As also in the matter of the shoe, if you +go beyond the (necessities of the) foot, the shoe is gilded, then of a purple +color, then embroidered; for there is no limit to that which has once passed +the true measure. +</p> + +<h3>XL.</h3> + +<p> +Women forthwith from the age of fourteen are called by the men mistresses +([Greek: churiai], dominæ). Therefore, since they see that there is nothing +else that they can obtain, but only the power of lying with men, they begin to +decorate themselves, and to place all their hopes in this. It is worth our +while then to take care that they may know that they are valued (by men) for +nothing else than appearing (being) decent and modest and discreet. +</p> + +<h3>XLI.</h3> + +<p> +It is a mark of a mean capacity to spend much time on the things which concern +the body, such as much exercise, much eating, much drinking, much easing of the +body, much copulation. But these things should be done as subordinate things; +and let all your care be directed to the mind. +</p> + +<h3>XLII.</h3> + +<p> +When any person treats you ill or speaks ill of you, remember that he does this +or says this because he thinks that it is his duty. It is not possible then for +him to follow that which seems right to you, but that which seems right to +himself. Accordingly if he is wrong in his opinion, he is the person who is +hurt, for he is the person who has been deceived; for if a man shall suppose +the true conjunction to be false, it is not the conjunction which is hindered, +but the man who has been deceived about it. If you proceed then from these +opinions, you will be mild in temper to him who reviles you; for say on each +occasion, It seemed so to him. +</p> + +<h3>XLIII.</h3> + +<p> +Everything has two handles, the one by which it may be borne, the other by +which it may not. If your brother acts unjustly, do not lay hold of the act by +that handle wherein he acts unjustly, for this is the handle which cannot be +borne; but lay hold of the other, that he is your brother, that he was nurtured +with you, and you will lay hold of the thing by that handle by which it can be +borne. +</p> + +<h3>XLIV.</h3> + +<p> +These reasonings do not cohere: I am richer than you, therefore I am better +than you; I am more eloquent than you, therefore I am better than you. On the +contrary, these rather cohere: I am richer than you, therefore my possessions +are greater than yours; I am more eloquent than you, therefore my speech is +superior to yours. But you are neither possession nor speech. +</p> + +<h3>XLV.</h3> + +<p> +Does a man bathe quickly (early)? do not say that he bathes badly, but that he +bathes quickly. Does a man drink much wine? do not say that he does this badly, +but say that he drinks much. For before you shall have determined the opinion +how do you know whether he is acting wrong? Thus it will not happen to you to +comprehend some appearances which are capable of being comprehended, but to +assent to others. +</p> + +<h3>XLVI.</h3> + +<p> +On no occasion call yourself a philosopher, and do not speak much among the +uninstructed about theorems (philosophical rules, precepts); but do that which +follows from them. For example, at a banquet do not say how a man ought to eat, +but eat as you ought to eat. For remember that in this way Socrates also +altogether avoided ostentation. Persons used to come to him and ask to be +recommended by him to philosophers, and he used to take them to philosophers, +so easily did he submit to being overlooked. Accordingly, if any conversation +should arise among uninstructed persons about any theorem, generally be silent; +for there is great danger that you will immediately vomit up what you have not +digested. And when a man shall say to you that you know nothing, and you are +not vexed, then be sure that you have begun the work (of philosophy). For even +sheep do not vomit up their grass and show to the shepherds how much they have +eaten; but when they have internally digested the pasture, they produce +externally wool and milk. Do you also show not your theorems to the +uninstructed, but show the acts which come from their digestion. +</p> + +<h3>XLVII.</h3> + +<p> +When at a small cost you are supplied with everything for the body, do not be +proud of this; nor, if you drink water, say on every occasion, I drink water. +But consider first how much more frugal the poor are than we, and how much more +enduring of labor. And if you ever wish to exercise yourself in labor and +endurance, do it for yourself, and not for others. Do not embrace statues; but +if you are ever very thirsty, take a draught of cold water and spit it out, and +tell no man. +</p> + +<h3>XLVIII.</h3> + +<p> +The condition and characteristic of an uninstructed person is this: he never +expects from himself profit (advantage) nor harm, but from externals. The +condition and characteristic of a philosopher is this: he expects all advantage +and all harm from himself. The signs (marks) of one who is making progress are +these: he censures no man, he praises no man, he blames no man, he accuses no +man, he says nothing about himself as if he were somebody or knew something; +when he is impeded at all or hindered, he blames himself; if a man praises him +he ridicules the praiser to himself; if a man censures him he makes no defence; +he goes about like weak persons, being careful not to move any of the things +which are placed, before they are firmly fixed; he removes all desire from +himself, and he transfers aversion ([Greek: echchlisin]) to those things only +of the things within our power which are contrary to nature; he employs a +moderate movement towards everything; whether he is considered foolish or +ignorant he cares not; and in a word he watches himself as if he were an enemy +and lying in ambush. +</p> + +<h3>XLIX.</h3> + +<p> +When a man is proud because he can understand and explain the writings of +Chrysippus, say to yourself, If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this man +would have had nothing to be proud of. But what is it that I wish? To +understand nature and to follow it. I inquire therefore who is the interpreter? +and when I have heard that it is Chrysippus, I come to him (the interpreter). +But I do not understand what is written, and therefore I seek the interpreter. +And so far there is yet nothing to be proud of. But when I shall have found the +interpreter, the thing that remains is to use the precepts (the lessons). This +itself is the only thing to be proud of. But if I shall admire the exposition, +what else have I been made unless a grammarian instead of a philosopher? except +in one thing, that I am explaining Chrysippus instead of Homer. When, then, any +man says to me, Read Chrysippus to me, I rather blush, when I cannot show my +acts like to and consistent with his words. +</p> + +<h3>L.</h3> + +<p> +Whatever things (rules) are proposed to you (for the conduct of life) abide by +them, as if they were laws, as if you would be guilty of impiety if you +transgressed any of them. And whatever any man shall say about you, do not +attend to it; for this is no affair of yours. How long will you then still +defer thinking yourself worthy of the best things, and in no matter +transgressing the distinctive reason? Have you accepted the theorems (rules), +which it was your duty to agree to, and have you agreed to them? what teacher +then do you still expect that you defer to him the correction of yourself? You +are no longer a youth, but already a full-grown man. If, then, you are +negligent and slothful, and are continually making procrastination after +procrastination, and proposal (intention) after proposal, and fixing day after +day, after which you will attend to yourself, you will not know that you are +not making improvement, but you will continue ignorant (uninstructed) both +while you live and till you die. Immediately then think it right to live as a +full-grown man, and one who is making proficiency, and let everything which +appears to you to be the best be to you a law which must not be transgressed. +And if anything laborious or pleasant or glorious or inglorious be presented to +you, remember that now is the contest, now are the Olympic games, and they +cannot be deferred; and that it depends on one defeat and one giving way that +progress is either lost or maintained. Socrates in this way became perfect, in +all things improving himself, attending to nothing except to reason. But you, +though you are not yet a Socrates, ought to live as one who wishes to be a +Socrates. +</p> + +<h3>LI.</h3> + +<p> +The first and most necessary place (part, [Greek: topos]) in philosophy is the +use of theorems (precepts, [Greek: theoraemata]), for instance, that we must +not lie; the second part is that of demonstrations, for instance, How is it +proved that we ought not to lie? The third is that which is confirmatory of +these two, and explanatory, for example, How is this a demonstration? For what +is demonstration, what is consequence, what is contradiction, what is truth, +what is falsehood? The third part (topic) is necessary on account of the +second, and the second on account of the first; but the most necessary and that +on which we ought to rest is the first. But we do the contrary. For we spend +our time on the third topic, and all our earnestness is about it; but we +entirely neglect the first. Therefore we lie; but the demonstration that we +ought not to lie we have ready to hand. +</p> + +<h3>LII.</h3> + +<p> +In every thing (circumstance) we should hold these maxims ready to hand: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Lead me, O Zeus, and thou O Destiny,<br/> +The way that I am bid by you to go:<br/> +To follow I am ready. If I choose not,<br/> +I make myself a wretch, and still must follow.<br/> +<br/> +But whoso nobly yields unto necessity,<br/> +We hold him wise, and skill’d in things divine. +</p> + +<p> +And the third also: O Crito, if so it pleases the gods, so let it be; Anytus +and Melitus are able indeed to kill me, but they cannot harm me. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10661 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |