101 AD                                 THE DISCOURSES                                  by EpictetusDISCOURSES                                    BOOK ONE  CHAPTER 1  Of the things which are in our Power, and not in our Power  Of all the faculties, you will find not one which is capable ofcontemplating itself; and, consequently, not capable either ofapproving or disapproving. How far does the grammatic art possessthe contemplating power? As far as forming a judgement about what iswritten and spoken. And how far music? As far as judging about melody.Does either of them then contemplate itself? By no means. But when youmust write something to your friend, grammar will tell you whatwords you must write; but whether you should write or not, grammarwill not tell you. And so it is with music as to musical sounds; butwhether you should sing at the present time and play on the lute, ordo neither, music will not tell you. What faculty then will tellyou? That which contemplates both itself and all other things. Andwhat is this faculty? The rational faculty; for this is the onlyfaculty that we have received which examines itself, what it is, andwhat power it has, and what is the value of this gift, and examinesall other faculties: for what else is there which tells us that goldenthings are beautiful, for they do not say so themselves? Evidentlyit is the faculty which is capable of judging of appearances. Whatelse judges of music, grammar, and other faculties, proves theiruses and points out the occasions for using them? Nothing else.  As then it was fit to be so, that which is best of all and supremeover all is the only thing which the gods have placed in our power,the right use of appearances; but all other things they have notplaced in our power. Was it because they did not choose? I indeedthink that, if they had been able, they would have put these otherthings also in our power, but they certainly could not. For as weexist on the earth, and are bound to such a body and to suchcompanions, how was it possible for us not to be hindered as tothese things by externals?  But what says Zeus? "Epictetus, if it were possible, I would havemade both your little body and your little property free and notexposed to hindrance. But now be not ignorant of this: this body isnot yours, but it is clay finely tempered. And since I was not able todo for you what I have mentioned, I have given you a small portionof us, this faculty of pursuing an object and avoiding it, and thefaculty of desire and aversion, and, in a word, the faculty of usingthe appearances of things; and if you will take care of this facultyand consider it your only possession, you will never be hindered,never meet with impediments; you will not lament, you will notblame, you will not flatter any person."  "Well, do these seem to you small matters?" I hope not. "Becontent with them then and pray to the gods." But now when it is inour power to look after one thing, and to attach ourselves to it, weprefer to look after many things, and to be bound to many things, tothe body and to property, and to brother and to friend, and to childand to slave. Since, then, we are bound to many things, we aredepressed by them and dragged down. For this reason, when theweather is not fit for sailing, we sit down and torment ourselves, andcontinually look out to see what wind is blowing. "It is north."What is that to us? "When will the west wind blow?" When it shallchoose, my good man, or when it shall please AEolus; for God has notmade you the manager of the winds, but AEolus. What then? We must makethe best use that we can of the things which are in our power, and usethe rest according to their nature. What is their nature then? AsGod may please.  "Must I, then, alone have my head cut off?" What, would you have allmen lose their heads that you may be consoled? Will you not stretchout your neck as Lateranus did at Rome when Nero ordered him to bebeheaded? For when he had stretched out his neck, and received afeeble blow, which made him draw it in for a moment, he stretched itout again. And a little before, when he was visited by Epaphroditus,Nero's freedman, who asked him about the cause of offense which he hadgiven, he said, "If I choose to tell anything, I will tell yourmaster."  What then should a man have in readiness in such circumstances? Whatelse than "What is mine, and what is not mine; and permitted to me,and what is not permitted to me." I must die. Must I then dielamenting? I must be put in chains. Must I then also lament? I must gointo exile. Does any man then hinder me from going with smiles andcheerfulness and contentment? "Tell me the secret which youpossess." I will not, for this is in my power. "But I will put youin chains." Man, what are you talking about? Me in chains? You mayfetter my leg, but my will not even Zeus himself can overpower. "Iwill throw you into prison." My poor body, you mean. "I will cutyour head off." When, then, have I told you that my head alonecannot be cut off? These are the things which philosophers shouldmeditate on, which they should write daily, in which they shouldexercise themselves.  Thrasea used to say, "I would rather be killed to-day thanbanished to-morrow." What, then, did Rufus say to him? "If youchoose death as the heavier misfortune, how great is the folly of yourchoice? But if, as the lighter, who has given you the choice? Will younot study to be content with that which has been given to you?"  What, then, did Agrippinus say? He said, "I am not a hindrance tomyself." When it was reported to him that his trial was going on inthe Senate, he said, "I hope it may turn out well; but it is the fifthhour of the day"- this was the time when he was used to exercisehimself and then take the cold bath- "let us go and take ourexercise." 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."  This it is to have studied what a man ought to study; to have madedesire, aversion, free from hindrance, and free from all that a manwould avoid. I must die. If now, I am ready to die. If, after ashort time, I now dine because it is the dinner-hour; after this Iwill then die. How? Like a man who gives up what belongs to another.  CHAPTER 2  How a Man on every occasion can maintain his Proper Character  To the rational animal only is the irrational intolerable; butthat which is rational is tolerable. Blows are not naturallyintolerable. "How is that?" See how the Lacedaemonians endure whippingwhen they have learned that whipping is consistent with reason. "Tohang yourself is not intolerable." When, then, you have the opinionthat it is rational, you go and hang yourself. In short, if weobserve, we shall find that the animal man is pained by nothing somuch as by that which is irrational; and, on the contrary, attractedto nothing so much as to that which is rational.  But the rational and the irrational appear such in a different wayto different persons, just as the good and the bad, the profitable andthe unprofitable. For this reason, particularly, we need discipline,in order to learn how to adapt the preconception of the rational andthe irrational to the several things conformably to nature. But inorder to determine the rational and the irrational, we use not onlythe of external things, but we consider also what is appropriate toeach person. For to one man it is consistent with reason to hold achamber pot for another, and to look to this only, that if he does nothold it, he will receive stripes, and he will not receive his food:but if he shall hold the pot, he will not suffer anything hard ordisagreeable. But to another man not only does the holding of achamber pot appear intolerable for himself, but intolerable also forhim to allow another to do this office for him. If, then, you ask mewhether you should hold the chamber pot or not, I shall say to youthat the receiving of food is worth more than the not receiving of it,and the being scourged is a greater indignity than not being scourged;so that if you measure your interests by these things, go and hold thechamber pot. "But this," you say, "would not be worthy of me." Well,then, it is you who must introduce this consideration into theinquiry, not I; for it is you who know yourself, how much you areworth to yourself, and at what price you sell yourself; for men sellthemselves at various prices.  For this reason, when Florus was deliberating whether he should godown to Nero's spectacles and also perform in them himself, Agrippinussaid to him, "Go down": and when Florus asked Agrippinus, "Why donot you go down?" Agrippinus replied, "Because I do not evendeliberate about the matter." For he who has once brought himself todeliberate about such matters, and to calculate the value ofexternal things, comes very near to those who have forgotten their owncharacter. For why do you ask me the question, whether death ispreferable or life? I say "life." "Pain or pleasure?" I say"pleasure." But if I do not take a part in the tragic acting, Ishall have my head struck off. Go then and take a part, but I willnot. "Why?" Because you consider yourself to be only one thread ofthose which are in the tunic. Well then it was fitting for you to takecare how you should be like the rest of men, just as the thread has nodesign to be anything superior to the other threads. But I wish tobe purple, that small part which is bright, and makes all the restappear graceful and beautiful. Why then do you tell me to makemyself like the many? and if I do, how shall I still be purple?  Priscus Helvidius also saw this, and acted conformably. For whenVespasian sent and commanded him not to go into the senate, hereplied, "It is in your power not to allow me to be a member of thesenate, but so long as I am, I must go in." "Well, go in then," saysthe emperor, "but say nothing." "Do not ask my opinion, and I willbe silent." "But I must ask your opinion." "And I must say what Ithink right." "But if you do, I shall put you to death." "When thendid I tell you that I am immortal? You will do your part, and I willdo mine: it is your part to kill; it is mine to die, but not infear: yours to banish me; mine to depart without sorrow."  What good then did Priscus do, who was only a single person? Andwhat good does the purple do for the toga? Why, what else than this,that it is conspicuous in the toga as purple, and is displayed also asa fine example to all other things? But in such circumstancesanother would have replied to Caesar who forbade him to enter thesenate, "I thank you for sparing me." But such a man Vespasian wouldnot even have forbidden to enter the senate, for he knew that he wouldeither sit there like an earthen vessel, or, if he spoke, he would saywhat Caesar wished, and add even more.  In this way an athlete also acted who was in danger of dyingunless his private parts were amputated. His brother came to theathlete, who was a philosopher, and said, "Come, brother, what are yougoing to do? Shall we amputate this member and return to thegymnasium?" But the athlete persisted in his resolution and died. Whensome one asked Epictetus how he did this, as an athlete or aphilosopher, "As a man," Epictetus replied, "and a man who had beenproclaimed among the athletes at the Olympic games and had contendedin them, a man who had been familiar with such a place, and not merelyanointed in Baton's school. Another would have allowed even his headto be cut off, if he could have lived without it. Such is thatregard to character which is so strong in those who have beenaccustomed to introduce it of themselves and conjoined with otherthings into their deliberations."  "Come, then, Epictetus, shave yourself." "If I am a philosopher,"I answer, "I will not shave myself." "But I will take off yourhead?" If that will do you any good, take it off.  Some person asked, "How then shall every man among us perceivewhat is suitable to his character?" How, he replied, does the bullalone, when the lion has attacked, discover his own powers and puthimself forward in defense of the whole herd? It is plain that withthe powers the perception of having them is immediately conjoined;and, therefore, whoever of us has such powers will not be ignorantof them. Now a bull is not made suddenly, nor a brave man; but we mustdiscipline ourselves in the winter for the summer campaign, and notrashly run upon that which does not concern us.  Only consider at what price you sell your own will; if for noother 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 andsuch as are like him. "Why then, if we are naturally such, are not avery great number of us like him?" Is it true then that all horsesbecome swift, that all dogs are skilled in tracking footprints? "What,then, since I am naturally dull, shall I, for this reason, take nopains?" I hope not. Epictetus is not superior to Socrates; but if heis 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 yetI do not neglect my property; nor, in a word, do we neglect lookingafter anything because we despair of reaching the highest degree.  CHAPTER 3  How a man should proceed from the principle of God being thefather of all men to the rest  If a man should be able to assent to this doctrine as he ought, thatwe are all sprung from God in an especial manner, and that God isthe father both of men and of gods, I suppose that he would never haveany ignoble or mean thoughts about himself. But if Caesar should adoptyou, no one could endure your arrogance; and if you know that youare the son of Zeus, will you not be elated? Yet we do not so; butsince these two things are mingled in the generation of man, body incommon with the animals, and reason and intelligence in common withthe 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 ofnecessity that every man uses everything according to the opinionwhich he has about it, those, the few, who think that they areformed for fidelity and modesty and a sure use of appearances haveno mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves; but with the many itis quite the contrary. For they say, "What am I? A poor, miserableman, with my wretched bit of flesh." Wretched. Indeed; but you possesssomething better than your "bit of flesh." Why then do you neglectthat which is better, and why do you attach yourself to this?  Through this kinship with the flesh, some of us inclining to itbecome like wolves, faithless and treacherous and mischievous: somebecome like lions, savage and untamed; but the greater part of usbecome foxes and other worse animals. For what else is a slanderer anda malignant man than a fox, or some other more wretched and meaneranimal? See, then, and take care that you do not become some one ofthese miserable things.  CHAPTER 4  Of progress or improvement  He who is making progress, having learned from philosophers thatdesire means the desire of good things, and aversion means aversionfrom bad things; having learned too that happiness and tranquillityare not attainable by man otherwise than by not failing to obtain whathe desires, and not falling into that which he would avoid; such a mantakes from himself desire altogether and defers it, but he employs hisaversion only on things which are dependent on his will. For if heattempts to avoid anything independent of his will, he knows thatsometimes he will fall in with something which he wishes to avoid, andhe will be unhappy. Now if virtue promises good fortune andtranquillity and happiness, certainly also the progress towardvirtue is progress toward each of these things. For it is alwaystrue that to whatever point the perfecting of anything leads us,progress is an approach toward this point.  How then do we admit that virtue is such as I have said, and yetseek progress in other things and make a display of it? What is theproduct of virtue? Tranquillity. Who then makes improvement? It ishe who has read many books of Chrysippus? But does virtue consist inhaving understood Chrysippus? If this is so, progress is clearlynothing else than knowing a great deal of Chrysippus. But now we admitthat virtue produces one thing. and we declare that approaching nearto it is another thing, namely, progress or improvement. "Such aperson," says one, "is already able to read Chrysippus by himself."Indeed, sir, you are making great progress. What kind of progress? Butwhy do you mock the man? Why do you draw him away from theperception of his own misfortunes? Will you not show him the effect ofvirtue 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 inaversion, that you may not be disappointed in your desire, and thatyou may not fall into that which you would avoid; in your pursuitand avoiding, that you commit no error; in assent and suspension ofassent, that you be not deceived. The first things, and the mostnecessary, are those which I have named. But if with trembling andlamentation you seek not to fall into that which you avoid, tell mehow you are improving.  Do you then show me your improvement in these things? If I weretalking to an athlete, I should say, "Show me your shoulders"; andthen he might say, "Here are my halteres." You and your haltereslook to that. I should reply, "I wish to see the effect of thehalteres." So, when you say: "Take the treatise on the activepowers, and see how I have studied it." I reply, "Slave, I am notinquiring about this, but how you exercise pursuit and avoidance,desire and aversion, how your design and purpose and prepare yourself,whether conformably to nature or not. If conformably, give me evidenceof it, and I will say that you are making progress: but if notconformably, be gone, and not only expound your books, but writesuch books yourself; and what will you gain by it? Do you not knowthat the whole book costs only five denarii? Does then the expounderseem to be worth more than five denarii? Never, then, look for thematter itself in one place, and progress toward it in another."  Where then is progress? If any of you, withdrawing himself fromexternals, turns to his own will to exercise it and to improve it bylabour, so as to make it conformable to nature, elevated, free,unrestrained, unimpeded, faithful, modest; and if he has learnedthat he who desires or avoids the things which are not in his powercan neither be faithful nor free, but of necessity he must change withthem and be tossed about with them as in a tempest, and of necessitymust subject himself to others who have the power to procure orprevent what he desires or would avoid; finally, when he rises inthe morning, if he observes and keeps these rules, bathes as a manof fidelity, eats as a modest man; in like manner, if in everymatter that occurs he works out his chief principles as the runnerdoes with reference to running, and the trainer of the voice withreference to the voice- this is the man who truly makes progress,and this is the man who has not traveled in vain. But if he hasstrained his efforts to the practice of reading books, and laboursonly at this, and has traveled for this, I tell him to return homeimmediately, and not to neglect his affairs there; for this forwhich he has traveled is nothing. But the other thing is something, tostudy how a man can rid his life of lamentation and groaning, andsaying, "Woe to me," and "wretched that I am," and to rid it also ofmisfortune and disappointment and to learn what death is, and exile,and prison, and poison, that he may be able to say when he is infetters, "Dear Crito, if it is the will of the gods that it be so, letit be so"; and not to say, "Wretched am I, an old man; have I keptmy gray hairs for this?" Who is it that speaks thus? Do you think thatI shall name some man of no repute and of low condition? Does notPriam say this? Does not OEdipus say this? Nay, all kings say it!For what else is tragedy than the perturbations of men who valueexternals exhibited in this kind of poetry? But if a man must learn byfiction that no external things which are independent of the willconcern us, for this? part I should like this fiction, by the aid ofwhich I should live happily and undisturbed. But you must consider foryourselves what you wish.  What then does Chrysippus teach us? The reply is, "to know thatthese things are not false, from which happiness comes andtranquillity arises. Take my books, and you will learn how true andconformable to nature are the things which make me free fromperturbations." O great good fortune! O the great benefactor whopoints out the way! To Triptolemus all men have erected temples andaltars, because he gave us food by cultivation; but to him whodiscovered 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 ofyou for this reason has built an altar, or a temple, or hasdedicated a statue, or who worships God for this? Because the godshave given the vine, or wheat, we sacrifice to them: but becausethey have produced in the human mind that fruit by which they designedto show us the truth which relates to happiness, shall we not thankGod for this?  CHAPTER 5  Against the academics  If a man, said Epictetus, opposes evident truths, it is not easyto find arguments by which we shall make him change his opinion. Butthis does not arise either from the man's strength or the teacher'sweakness; for when the man, though he has been confuted, is hardenedlike a stone, how shall we then be able to deal with him by argument?  Now there are two kinds of hardening, one of the understanding,the other of the sense of shame, when a man is resolved not toassent to what is manifest nor to desist from contradictions. Mostof us are afraid of mortification of the body, and would contriveall means to avoid such a thing, but we care not about the soul'smortification. And indeed with regard to the soul, if a man be in sucha state as not to apprehend anything, or understand at all, we thinkthat he is in a bad condition: but if the sense of shame and modestyare deadened, this we call even power.  Do you comprehend that you are awake? "I do not," the man replies,"for I do not even comprehend when in my sleep I imagine that I amawake." Does this appearance then not differ from the other? "Not atall," he replies. Shall I still argue with this man? And what fireor what iron shall I apply to him to make him feel that he isdeadened? He does perceive, but he pretends that he does not. He'seven worse than a dead man. He does not see the contradiction: he isin a bad condition. Another does see it, but he is not moved, andmakes no improvement: he is even in a worse condition. His modestyis extirpated, and his sense of shame; and the rational faculty hasnot been cut off from him, but it is brutalized. Shall I name thisstrength of mind? Certainly not, unless we also name it such incatamites, through which they do and say in public whatever comes intotheir head.  CHAPTER 6  Of providence  From everything which is or happens in the world, it is easy topraise Providence, if a man possesses these two qualities, the facultyof seeing what belongs and happens to all persons and things, and agrateful 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. IfGod had made colours, but had not made the faculty of seeing them,what would have been their use? None at all. On the other hand, ifHe had made the faculty of vision, but had not made objects such as tofall under the faculty, what in that case also would have been the useof it? None at all. Well, suppose that He had made both, but had notmade light? In that case, also, they would have been of no use. Who isit, then, who has fitted this to that and that to this? And who isit that has fitted the knife to the case and the case to the knife? Isit no one? And, indeed, from the very structure of things which haveattained their completion, we are accustomed to show that the workis certainly the act of some artificer, and that it has not beenconstructed without a purpose. Does then each of these thingsdemonstrate the workman, and do not visible things and the facultyof seeing and light demonstrate Him? And the existence of male andfemale, and the desire of each for conjunction, and the power of usingthe parts which are constructed, do not even these declare theworkman? If they do not, let us consider the constitution of ourunderstanding according to which, when we meet with sensibleobjects, we simply receive impressions from them, but we also selectsomething from them, and subtract something, and add, and compoundby means of them these things or those, and, in fact, pass from someto other things which, in a manner, resemble them: is not even thissufficient to move some men, and to induce them not to forget theworkman? If not so, let them explain to us what it is that makeseach several thing, or how it is possible that things so wonderful andlike the contrivances of art should exist by chance and from their ownproper motion?  What, then, are these things done in us only. Many, indeed, in usonly, of which the rational animal had peculiar need; but you willfind many common to us with irrational animals. Do they themunderstand what is done? By no means. For use is one thing, andunderstanding is another: God had need of irrational animals to makeuse of appearances, but of us to understand the use of appearances. Itis therefore enough for them to eat and to drink, and to sleep andto copulate, and to do all the other things which they severally do.But for us, to whom He has given also the faculty, these things arenot sufficient; for unless we act in a proper and orderly manner,and conformably to the nature and constitution of each thing, we shallnever attain our true end. For where the constitutions of livingbeings are different, there also the acts and the ends aredifferent. In those animals, then, whose constitution is adaptedonly to use, use alone is enough: but in an animal which has alsothe power of understanding the use, unless there be the due exerciseof the understanding, he will never attain his proper end. Well thenGod constitutes every animal, one to be eaten, another to serve foragriculture, another to supply cheese, and another for some likeuse; for which purposes what need is there to understand appearancesand to be able to distinguish them? But God has introduced man to be aspectator 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 beginand to end where irrational animals do, but rather he ought to beginwhere they begin, and to end where nature ends in us; and natureends in contemplation and understanding, in a way of lifeconformable to nature. Take care then not to die without having beenspectators of these things.  But you take a journey to Olympia to see the work of Phidias, andall of you think it a misfortune to die without having seen suchthings. But when there is no need to take a journey, and where a manis, there he has the works (of God) before him, will you not desire tosee and understand them? Will you not perceive either what you are, orwhat you were born for, or what this is for which you have receivedthe faculty of sight? But you may say, "There are some thingsdisagreeable and troublesome in life." And are there none inOlympia? Are you not scorched? Are you not pressed by a crowd? Are younot without comfortable means of bathing? Are you not wet when itrains? Have you not abundance of noise, clamour, and otherdisagreeable things? But I suppose that setting all these things offagainst the magnificence of the spectacle, you bear and endure.Well, then, and have you not received faculties by which you will beable to bear all that happens? Have you not received greatness ofsoul? Have you not received manliness? Have you not receivedendurance? And why do I trouble myself about anything that canhappen if I possess greatness of soul? What shall distract my mindor disturb me, or appear painful? Shall I not use the power for thepurposes for which I received it, and shall I grieve and lament overwhat happens?  "Yes, but my nose runs." For what purpose then, slave, have youhands? Is it not that you may wipe your nose? "Is it, then, consistentwith reason that there should be running of noses in the world?"Nay, how much better it is to wipe your nose than to find fault.What do you think that Hercules would have been if there had notbeen such a lion, and hydra, and stag, and boar, and certain unjustand bestial men, whom Hercules used to drive away and clear out? Andwhat would he have been doing if there had been nothing of the kind?Is it not plain that he would have wrapped himself up and haveslept? In the first place, then he would not have been a Hercules,when he was dreaming away all his life in such luxury and case; andeven if he had been one what would have been the use of him? andwhat the use of his arms, and of the strength of the other parts ofhis body, and his endurance and noble spirit, if such circumstancesand occasions had not roused and exercised him? "Well, then, must aman provide for himself such means of exercise, and to introduce alion from some place into his country, and a boar and a hydra?" Thiswould be folly and madness: but as they did exist, and were found,they were useful for showing what Hercules was and for exercising him.Come then do you also having observed these things look to thefaculties which you have, and when you have looked at them, say:"Bring now, O Zeus, any difficulty that Thou pleasest, for I havemeans given to me by Thee and powers for honoring myself through thethings which happen." You do not so; but you sit still, tremblingfor fear that some things will happen, and weeping, and lamentingand groaning for what does happen: and then you blame the gods. Forwhat is the consequence of such meanness of spirit but impiety? Andyet God has not only given us these faculties; by which we shall beable to bear everything that happens without being depressed or brokenby it; but, like a good king and a true father, He has given usthese faculties free from hindrance, subject to no compulsionunimpeded, and has put them entirely in our own power, without evenhaving reserved to Himself any power of hindering or impeding. You,who have received these powers free and as your own, use them not: youdo not even see what you have received, and from whom; some of youbeing blinded to the giver, and not even acknowledging yourbenefactor, and others, through meanness of spirit, betakingyourselves to fault finding and making charges against God. Yet I willshow to you that you have powers and means for greatness of soul andmanliness but what powers you have for finding fault and makingaccusations, do you show me.  CHAPTER 7  Of the use of sophistical arguments, and hypothetical, and the like  The handling of sophistical and hypothetical arguments, and of thosewhich derive their conclusions from questioning, and in a word thehandling of all such arguments, relates to the duties of life,though the many do not know this truth. For in every matter we inquirehow the wise and good man shall discover the proper path and theproper method of dealing with the matter. Let, then, people either saythat the grave man will not descend into the contest of question andanswer, or that, if he does descend into the contest, he will takeno care about not conducting himself rashly or carelessly inquestioning and answering. But if they do not allow either the oneor the other of these things, they must admit that some inquiryought to be made into those topics on which particularly questioningand answering are employed. For what is the end proposed in reasoning?To establish true propositions, to remove the false, to withholdassent from those which are not plain. Is it enough then to havelearned only this? "It is enough," a man may reply. Is it, then,also enough for a man, who would not make a mistake in the use ofcoined money, to have heard this precept, that he should receive thegenuine drachmae and reject the spurious? "It is not enough." What,then, ought to be added to this precept? What else than the facultywhich proves and distinguishes the genuine and the spuriousdrachmae? Consequently also in reasoning what has been said is notenough; but is it necessary that a man should acquire the faculty ofexamining and distinguishing the true and the false, and that which isnot plain? "It is necessary." Besides this, what is proposed inreasoning? "That you should accept what follows from that which youhave properly granted." Well, is it then enough in this case also toknow this? It is not enough; but a man must learn how one thing is aconsequence of other things, and when one thing follows from onething, and when it follows from several collectively. Consider, thenif it be not necessary that this power should also be acquired byhim who purposes to conduct himself skillfully in reasoning, the powerof demonstrating himself the several things which he has proposed, andthe power of understanding the demonstrations of others, includingof not being deceived by sophists, as if they were demonstrating.Therefore there has arisen among us the practice and exercise ofconclusive arguments and figures, and it has been shown to benecessary.  But in fact in some cases we have properly granted the premissesor assumptions, and there results from them something; and though itis not true, yet none the less it does result. What then ought I todo? Ought I to admit the falsehood? And how is that possible? Well,should I say that I did not properly grant that which we agreedupon? "But you are not allowed to do even this." Shall I then say thatthe consequence does not arise through what has been conceded? "Butneither is it allowed." What then must be done in this case?Consider if it is not this: as to have borrowed is not enough tomake a man still a debtor, but to this must be added the fact thathe continues to owe the money and that the debt is not paid, so itis not enough to compel you to admit the inference that you havegranted the premisses, but you must abide by what you have granted.Indeed, if the premisses continue to the end such as they were whenthey were granted, it is absolutely necessary for us to abide bywhat we have granted, and we must accept their consequences: but ifthe premisses do not remain such as they were when they weregranted, it is absolutely necessary for us also to withdraw fromwhat we granted, and from accepting what does not follow from thewords in which our concessions were made. For the inference is now notour inference, nor does it result with our assent, since we havewithdrawn from the premisses which we granted. We ought then both toexamine such kind of premisses, and such change and variation of them,by which in the course of questioning or answering, or in making thesyllogistic conclusion, or in any other such way, the premissesundergo variations, and give occasion to the foolish to be confounded,if they do not see what conclusions are. For what reason ought we toexamine? In order that we may not in this matter be employed in animproper manner nor in a confused way.  And the same in hypotheses and hypothetical arguments; for it isnecessary sometimes to demand the granting of some hypothesis as akind of passage to the argument which follows. Must we then allowevery hypothesis that is proposed, or not allow every one? And ifnot every one, which should we allow? And if a man has allowed anhypothesis, must he in every case abide by allowing it? or must hesometimes withdraw from it, but admit the consequences and not admitcontradictions? Yes; but suppose that a man says, "If you admit thehypothesis of a possibility, I will draw you to an impossibility."With such a person shall a man of sense refuse to enter into acontest, and avoid discussion and conversation with him? But whatother man than the man of sense can use argumentation and isskillful in questioning and answering, and incapable of beingcheated and deceived by false reasoning? And shall he enter into thecontest, and yet not take care whether he shall engage in argument notrashly and not carelessly? And if he does not take care, how can he besuch a man as we conceive him to be? But without some such exerciseand preparation, can he maintain a continuous and consistent argument?Let them show this; and all these speculations become superfluous, andare absurd and inconsistent with our notion of a good and serious man.  Why are we still indolent and negligent and sluggish, and why dowe seek pretences for not labouring and not being watchful incultivating our reason? "If then I shall make a mistake in thesematters may I not have killed my father?" Slave, where was there afather in this matter that you could kill him? What, then, have youdone? The only fault that was possible here is the fault which youhave committed. This is the very remark which I made to Rufus whenhe blamed me for not having discovered the one thing omitted in acertain syllogism: "I suppose," I said, "that I have burnt theCapitol." "Slave," he replied, "was the thing omitted here theCapitol?" Or are these the only crimes, to burn the Capitol and tokill your father? But for a man to use the appearances resented to himrashly and foolishly and carelessly, not to understand argument, nordemonstration, nor sophism, nor, in a word, to see in questioningand answering what is consistent with that which we have granted or isnot consistent; is there no error in this?  CHAPTER 8  That the faculties are not safe to the uninstructed  In as many ways as we can change things which are equivalent toone another, in just so many ways we can change the forms of argumentsand enthymemes in argumentation. This is an instance: "If you haveborrowed and not repaid, you owe me the money: you have not borrowedand you have not repaid; then you do not owe me the money." To do thisskillfully is suitable to no man more than to the philosopher; forif the enthymeme is all imperfect syllogism. it is plain that he whohas been exercised in the perfect syllogism must be equally expertin the imperfect also.  "Why then do we not exercise ourselves and one another in thismanner?" Because, I reply, at present, though we are not exercisedin these things and not distracted from the study of morality, by meat least, still we make no progress in virtue. What then must weexpect if we should add this occupation? and particularly as thiswould not only be an occupation which would withdraw us from morenecessary things, but would also be a cause of self conceit andarrogance, and no small cause. For great is the power of arguing andthe faculty of persuasion, and particularly if it should be muchexercised, and also receive additional ornament from language: andso universally, every faculty acquired by the uninstructed and weakbrings with it the danger of these persons being elated and inflatedby it. For by what means could one persuade a young man who excelsin these matters that he ought not to become an appendage to them, butto make them an appendage to himself? Does he not trample on allsuch reasons, and strut before us elated and inflated, not enduringthat any man should reprove him and remind him of what he hasneglected and to what he has turned aside?  "What, then, was not Plato a philosopher?" I reply, "And was notHippocrates a physician? but you see how Hippocrates speaks." DoesHippocrates, then, speak thus in respect of being a physician? Whydo you mingle things which have been accidentally united in the samemen? And if Plato was handsome and strong, ought I also to set to workand endeavor to become handsome or strong, as if this was necessaryfor philosophy, because a certain philosopher was at the same timehandsome and a philosopher? Will you not choose to see and todistinguish in respect to what men become philosophers, and whatthings belong to belong to them in other respects? And if I were aphilosopher, ought you also to be made lame? What then? Do I take awaythese faculties which you possess? By no means; for neither do Itake away the faculty of seeing. But if you ask me what is the good ofman, I cannot mention to you anything else than that it is a certaindisposition of the will with respect to appearances.  CHAPTER 9  How from the fact that we are akin to God a man may proceed to theconsequences  If the things are true which are said by the philosophers aboutthe kinship between God and man, what else remains for men to dothen what Socrates did? Never in reply to the question, to whatcountry you belong, say that you are an Athenian or a Corinthian,but that you are a citizen of the world. For why do you say that youare an Athenian, and why do you not say that you belong to the smallnook only into which your poor body was cast at birth? Is it not plainthat you call yourself an Athenian or Corinthian from the placewhich has a greater authority and comprises not only that small nookitself and all your family, but even the whole country from whichthe stock of your progenitors is derived down to you? He then whohas observed with intelligence the administration of the world, andhas learned that the greatest and supreme and the most comprehensivecommunity is that which is composed of men and God, and that fromGod have descended the seeds not only to my father and grandfather,but to all beings which are generated on the earth and are produced,and particularly to rational beings- for these only are by theirnature formed to have communion with God, being by means of reasonconjoined with Him- why should not such a man call himself a citizenof the world, why not a son of God, and why should he be afraid ofanything which happens among men? Is kinship with Caesar or with anyother of the powerful in Rome sufficient to enable us to live insafety, and above contempt and without any fear at all? and to haveGod for your maker and father and guardian, shall not this releaseus from sorrows and fears?  But a man may say, "Whence shall I get bread to eat when I havenothing?"  And how do slaves, and runaways, on what do they rely when theyleave their masters? Do they rely on their lands or slaves, or theirvessels of silver? They rely on nothing but themselves, and fooddoes not fail them. And shall it be necessary for one among us whois a philosopher to travel into foreign parts, and trust to and relyon others, and not to take care of himself, and shall he be inferiorto irrational animals and more cowardly, each of which, beingself-sufficient, neither fails to get its proper food, nor to find asuitable way of living, and one conformable to nature?  I indeed think that the old man ought to be sitting here, not tocontrive how you may have no mean thoughts nor mean and ignoble talkabout yourselves, but to take care that there be not among us anyyoung men of such a mind that, when they have recognized their kinshipto God, and that we are fettered by these bonds, the body, I mean, andits possessions, and whatever else on account of them is necessaryto us for the economy and commerce of life, they should intend tothrow off these things as if they were burdens painful andintolerable, and to depart to their kinsmen. But this is the labourthat your teacher and instructor ought to be employed upon, if hereally were what he should be. You should come to him and say,"Epictetus, we can no longer endure being bound to this poor body, andfeeding it and giving it drink, and rest, and cleaning it, and for thesake of the body complying with the wishes of these and of those.Are not these things indifferent and nothing to us, and is not deathno evil? And are we not in a manner kinsmen of God, and did we notcome 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 boundand weighed down. Here there are robbers and thieves and courts ofjustice, and those who are named tyrants, and think that they havesome power over us by means of the body and its possessions. Permit usto show them that they have no power over any man." And I on my partwould say, "Friends, wait for God; when He shall give the signal andrelease you from this service, then go to Him; but for the presentendure to dwell in this place where He has put you: short indeed isthis time of your dwelling here, and easy to bear for those who are sodisposed: for what tyrant or what thief, or what courts of justice,are formidable to those who have thus considered as things of no valuethe body and the possessions of the body? Wait then, do not departwithout a reason."  Something like this ought to be said by the teacher to ingenuousyouths. But now what happens? The teacher is a lifeless body, andyou are lifeless bodies. When you have been well filled to-day, yousit down and lament about the morrow, how you shall get something toeat. Wretch, if you have it, you will have it; if you have it not, youwill depart from life. The door is open. Why do you grieve? where doesthere remain any room for tears? and where is there occasion forflattery? why shall one man envy another? why should a man admirethe rich or the powerful, even if they be both very strong and ofviolent temper? for what will they do to us? We shall not care forthat which they can do; and what we do care for, that they cannotdo. How did Socrates behave with respect to these matters? Why, inwhat other way than a man ought to do who was convinced that he wasa kinsman of the gods? "If you say to me now," said Socrates to hisjudges, "'We will acquit you on the condition that you no longerdiscourse in the way in which you have hitherto discoursed, nortrouble either our young or our old men,' I shall answer, 'you makeyourselves ridiculous by thinking that, if one of our commanders hasappointed me to a certain post, it is my duty to keep and maintain it,and to resolve to die a thousand times rather than desert it; but ifGod has put us in any place and way of life, we ought to desertit.'" Socrates speaks like a man who is really a kinsman of thegods. But we think about ourselves as if we were only stomachs, andintestines, and shameful parts; we fear, we desire; we flatter thosewho are able to help us in these matters, and we fear them also.  A man asked me to write to Rome about him, a man who, as most peoplethought, had been unfortunate, for formerly he was a man of rank andrich, but had been stripped of all, and was living here. I wrote onhis behalf in a submissive manner; but when he had read the letter, hegave it back to me and said, "I wished for your help, not your pity:no evil has happened to me."  Thus also Musonius Rufus, in order to try me, used to say: "This andthis will befall you from your master"; and I replied that thesewere things which happen in the ordinary course of human affairs."Why, then," said he, "should I ask him for anything when I can obtainit from you?" For, in fact, what a man has from himself, it issuperfluous and foolish to receive from another? Shall I, then, who amable to receive from myself greatness of soul and a generous spirit,receive from you land and money or a magisterial office? I hope not: Iwill not be so ignorant about my own possessions. But when a man iscowardly and mean, what else must be done for him than to writeletters as you would about a corpse. "Please to grant us the body of acertain person and a sextarius of poor blood." For such a person is,in fact, a carcass and a sextarius of blood, and nothing more. Butif he were anything more, he would know that one man is notmiserable through the means of another.  CHAPTER 10  Against those who eagerly seek preferment at Rome  If we applied ourselves as busily to our own work as the old menat Rome do to those matters about which they are employed, perhapswe also might accomplish something. I am acquainted with a man olderthan myself who is now superintendent of corn at Rome, and rememberthe time when he came here on his way back from exile, and what hesaid as he related the events of his former life, and how hedeclared that with respect to the future after his return he wouldlook after nothing else than passing the rest of his life in quiet andtranquillity. "For how little of life," he said, remains for me." Ireplied, "You will not do it, but as soon as you smell Rome, youwill forget all that you have said; and if admission is allowed eveninto the imperial palace, you will gladly thrust yourself in and thankGod." "If you find me, Epictetus," he answered, "setting even one footwithin the palace, think what you please." Well, what then did hedo? Before he entered the city he was met by letters from Caesar,and as soon as he received them he forgot all, and ever after hasadded one piece of business to another. I wish that I were now byhis side to remind him of what he said when he was passing this wayand to tell him how much better a seer I am than he is.  Well, then, do I say that man is an animal made for doing nothing?Certainly not. But why are we not active? For example, as to myself,as soon as day comes, in a few words I remind myself of what I mustread over to my pupils; then forthwith I say to myself, "But what isit to me how a certain person shall read? the first thing for me is tosleep." And indeed what resemblance is there between what otherpersons do and what we do? If you observe what they do, you willunderstand. And what else do they do all day long than make upaccounts, inquire among themselves, give and take advice about somesmall quantity of grain, a bit of land, and such kind of profits? Isit then the same thing to receive a petition and to read in it: "Ientreat you to permit me to export a small quantity of corn"; andone to this effect: "I entreat you to learn from Chrysippus what isthe administration of the world, and what place in it the rationalanimal holds; consider also who you are, and what is the nature ofyour good and bad." Are these things like the other, do they requireequal care, and is it equally base to neglect these and those? Well,then, are we the only persons who are lazy and love sleep? No; butmuch rather you young men are. For we old men, when we see young menamusing themselves, are eager to play with them; and if I saw youactive and zealous, much more should I be eager myself to join youin your serious pursuits.  CHAPTER 11  Of natural affection  When he was visited by one of the magistrates, Epictetus inquired ofhim about several particulars, and asked if he had children and awife. The man replied that he had; and Epictetus inquired further, howhe felt under the circumstances. "Miserable," the man said. ThenEpictetus asked, "In what respect," for men do not marry and begetchildren in order to be wretched, but rather to be happy. "But I," theman replied, "am so wretched about my children that lately, when mylittle daughter was sick and was supposed to be in danger, I could notendure to stay with her, but I left home till a person sent me newsthat she had recovered." Well then, said Epictetus, do you thinkthat you acted right? "I acted naturally," the man replied. Butconvince me of this that you acted naturally, and I will convinceyou that everything which takes place according to nature takesplace rightly. "This is the case," said the man, "with all or at leastmost fathers." I do not deny that: but the matter about which we areinquiring is whether such behavior is right; for in respect to thismatter we must say that tumours also come for the good of the body,because they do come; and generally we must say that to do wrong isnatural, because nearly all or at least most of us do wrong. Do youshow me then how your behavior is natural. "I cannot," he said; "butdo you rather show me how it is not according to nature and is notrightly done.  Well, said Epictetus, if we were inquiring about white and black,what criterion should we employ for distinguishing between them?"The sight," he said. And if about hot and cold, and hard and soft,what criterion? "The touch." Well then, since we are inquiring aboutthings which are according to nature, and those which are done rightlyor not rightly, what kind of criterion do you think that we shouldemploy? "I do not know," he said. And yet not to know the criterion ofcolors and smells, and also of tastes, is perhaps no great harm; butif a man do not know the criterion of good and bad, and of thingsaccording to nature and contrary to nature, does this seem to you asmall harm? "The greatest harm." Come tell me, do all things whichseem to some persons to be good and becoming rightly appear such;and at present as to Jews and Syrians and Egyptians and Romans, isit possible that the opinions of all of them in respect to food areright? "How is it possible?" he said. Well, I suppose it is absolutelynecessary that, if the opinions of the Egyptians are right, theopinions of the rest must be wrong: if the opinions of the Jews areright, those of the rest cannot be right. "Certainly." But where thereis ignorance, there also there is want of learning and training inthings which are necessary. He assented to this. You then, saidEpictetus, since you know this, for the future will employ yourselfseriously about nothing else, and will apply your mind to nothing elsethan to learn the criterion of things which are according to nature,and by using it also to determine each several thing. But in thepresent matter I have so much as this to aid you toward what you wish.Does affection to those of your family appear to you to be accordingto nature and to be good? "Certainly." Well, is such affection naturaland good, and is a thing consistent with reason not good? "By nomeans." Is then that which is consistent with reason incontradiction with affection? "I think not." You are right, for ifit is otherwise, it is necessary that one of the contradictionsbeing according to nature, the other must be contrary to nature. Is itnot so? "It is," he said. Whatever, then, we shall discover to be atthe same time affectionate and also consistent with reason, this weconfidently declare to be right and good. "Agreed." Well then to leaveyour sick child and to go away is not reasonable, and I suppose thatyou will not say that it is; but it remains for us to inquire if it isconsistent with affection. "Yes, let us consider." Did you, then,since you had an affectionate disposition to your child, do right whenyou ran off and left her; and has the mother no affection for thechild? "Certainly, she has." Ought, then, the mother also to have lefther, or ought she not? "She ought not." And the nurse, does she loveher? "She does." Ought, then, she also to have left her? "By nomeans." And the pedagogue, does he not love her? "He does love her."Ought, then, he also to have deserted her? and so should the childhave been left alone and without help on account of the greataffection of you, the parents, and of those about her, or should shehave died in the hands of those who neither loved her nor cared forher? "Certainly not." Now this is unfair and unreasonable, not toallow those who have equal affection with yourself to do what youthink to be proper for yourself to do because you have affection. Itis absurd. Come then, if you were sick, would you wish yourrelations to be so affectionate, and all the rest, children andwife, as to leave you alone and deserted? "By no means." And would youwish to be so loved by your own that through their excessive affectionyou would always be left alone in sickness? or for this reason wouldyou rather pray, if it were possible, to be loved by your enemiesand deserted by them? But if this is so, it results that your behaviorwas not at all an affectionate act.  Well then, was it nothing which moved you and induced you todesert your child? and how is that possible? But it might be somethingof the kind which moved a man at Rome to wrap up his head while ahorse was running which he favoured; and when contrary toexpectation the horse won, he required sponges to recover from hisfainting fit. What then is the thing which moved? The exact discussionof this does not belong to the present occasion perhaps; but it isenough to be convinced of this, if what the philosophers say istrue, that we must not look for it anywhere without, but in allcases it is one and the same thing which is the cause of our doingor not doing something, of saying or not saying something, of beingelated or depressed, of avoiding anything or pursuing: the verything which is now the cause to me and to you, to you of coming tome and sitting and hearing, and to me of saying what I do say. Andwhat is this? Is it any other than our will to do so? "No other."But if we had willed otherwise, what else should we have been doingthan that which we willed to do? This, then, was the cause ofAchilles' lamentation, not the death of Patroclus; for another mandoes not behave thus on the death of his companion; but it was becausehe chose to do so. And to you this was the very cause of your thenrunning away, that you chose to do so; and on the other side, if youshould stay with her, the reason will be the same. And now you aregoing to Rome because you choose; and if you should change yourmind, you will not go thither. And in a word, neither death norexile nor pain nor anything of the kind is the cause of our doinganything or not doing; but our own opinions and our wills.  Do I convince you of this or not? "You do convince me." Such,then, as the causes are in each case, such also are the effects. When,then, we are doing anything not rightly, from this day we shall imputeit to nothing else than to the will from which we have done it: and itis that which we shall endeavour to take away and to extirpate morethan the tumours and abscesses out of the body. And in like mannerwe shall give the same account of the cause of the things which wedo right; and we shall no longer allege as causes of any evil to us,either slave or neighbour, or wife or children, being persuadedthat, if we do not think things to he what we do think them to be,we do not the acts which follow from such opinions; and as to thinkingor not thinking, that is in our power and not in externals. "It isso," he said. From this day then we shall inquire into and examinenothing else, what its quality is, or its state, neither land norslaves nor horses nor dogs, nothing else than opinions. "I hope so."You see, then, that you must become a Scholasticus, an animal whom allridicule, if you really intend to make an examination of your ownopinions: and that this is not the work of one hour or day, you knowyourself.  CHAPTER 12  Of contentment  With respect to gods, there are some who say that a divine beingdoes not exist: others say that it exists, but is inactive andcareless, and takes no forethought about anything; a third class saythat such a being exists and exercises forethought, but only aboutgreat things and heavenly things, and about nothing on the earth; afourth class say that a divine being exercises forethought bothabout things on the earth and heavenly things, but in a general wayonly, and not about things severally. There is a fifth class to whomUlysses and Socrates belong, who say: "I move not without thyknowledge."  Before all other things, then, it is necessary to inquire about eachof these opinions, whether it is affirmed truly or not truly. For ifthere are no gods, how is it our proper end to follow them? And ifthey exist, but take no care of anything, in this case also how willit be right to follow them? But if indeed they do exist and look afterthings, still if there is nothing communicated from them to men, norin fact to myself, how even so is it right? The wise and good man,then, after considering all these things, submits his own mind tohim who administers the whole, as good citizens do to the law of thestate. He who is receiving instruction ought to come to the instructedwith this intention: How shall I follow the gods in all things, howshall I be contented with the divine administration, and how can Ibecome free?" For he is free to whom everything happens according,to his will, and whom no man can hinder. "What then, is freedommadness?" Certainly not: for madness and freedom do not consist."But," you say, "I would have everything result just as I like, and inwhatever way I like." You are mad, you are beside yourself. Do you notknow that freedom is a noble and valuable thing? But for meinconsiderately to wish for things to happen as I inconsideratelylike, this appears to be not only not noble, but even most base. Forhow do we proceed in the matter of writing? Do I wish to write thename of Dion as I choose? No, but I am taught to choose to write it asit ought to be written. And how with respect to music? In the samemanner. 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, ifknowledge were adapted to every man's whim. Is it, then, in thisalone, in this which is the greatest and the chief thing, I meanfreedom, that I am permitted to will inconsiderately? By no means; butto be instructed is this, to learn to wish that everything mayhappen as it does. And how do things happen? As the disposer hasdisposed them? And he has appointed summer and winter, and abundanceand scarcity, and virtue and vice, and all such opposites for theharmony of the whole; and to each of us he has given a body, and partsof the body, and possessions, and companions.  Remembering, then, this disposition of things we ought to go to beinstructed, not that we may change the constitution of things- forwe have not the power to do it, nor is it better that we should havethe power-but in order that, as the things around us are what they areand by nature exist, we may maintain our minds in harmony with themthings which happen. For can we escape from men? and how is itpossible? And if we associate with them, can we chance them? Who givesus the power? What then remains, or what method is discovered ofholding commerce with them? Is there such a method by which they shalldo what seems fit to them, and we not the less shall be in a moodwhich is conformable to nature? But you are unwilling to endure andare discontented: and if you are alone, you call it solitude; and ofyou are with men, you call them knaves and robbers; and you find faultwith your own parents and children, and brothers and neighbours. Butyou ought when you are alone to call this condition by the name oftranquillity and freedom, and to think yourself like to the gods;and when you are with many, you ought not to call it crowd, nortrouble, nor uneasiness, but festival and assembly, and so acceptall contentedly.  What, then, is the punishment of those who do not accept? It is tobe what they are. Is any person dissatisfied with being alone, let himbe alone. Is a man dissatisfied with his parents? let him be a badson, and lament. Is he dissatisfied with his children? let him be abad father. "Cast him into prison." What prison? Where he isalready, for he is there against his will; and where a man isagainst his will, there he is in prison. So Socrates was not inprison, for he was there willingly. "Must my leg then be lamed?"Wretch, do you then on account of one poor leg find fault with theworld? Will you not willingly surrender it for the whole? Will you notwithdraw from it? Will you not gladly part with it to him who gave it?And will you be vexed and discontented with the things establishedby Zeus, which he with the Moirae who were present and spinning thethread of your generation, defined and put in order? Know you nothow small a part you are compared with the whole. I mean withrespect to the body, for as to intelligence you are not inferior tothe gods nor less; for the magnitude of intelligence is not measuredby length nor yet by height, but by thoughts.  Will you not, then, choose to place your good in that in which youare equal to the gods? "Wretch that I am to have such a father andmother." What, then, was it permitted to you to come forth, and toselect, and to say: "Let such a man at this moment unite with such awoman that I may be produced?" It was not permitted, but it was anecessity for your parents to exist first, and then for you to bebegotten. Of what kind of parents? Of such as they were. Well then,since they are such as they are, is there no remedy given to you?Now if you did not know for what purpose you possess the faculty ofvision, you would be unfortunate and wretched if you closed youreyes when colors were brought before them; but in that you possessgreatness of soul and nobility of spirit for every event that mayhappen, and you know not that you possess them, are you not moreunfortunate and wretched? Things are brought close to you which areproportionate to the power which you possess, but you turn away thispower most particularly at the very time when you ought to maintain itopen and discerning. Do you not rather thank the gods that they haveallowed you to be above these things which they have not placed inyour power; and have made you accountable only for those which arein your power? As to your parents, the gods have left you free fromresponsibility; and so with respect to your brothers, and your body,and possessions, and death and life. For what, then, have they madeyou responsible? For that which alone is in your power, the proper useof appearances. Why then do you draw on yourself the things forwhich you are not responsible? It is, indeed, a giving of trouble toyourself.  CHAPTER 13  How everything may he done acceptably to the gods  When some one asked, how may a man eat acceptably to the gods, heanswered: If he can eat justly and contentedly, and with equanimity,and temperately and orderly, will it not be also acceptably to thegods? But when you have asked for warm water and the slave has notheard, or if he did hear has brought only tepid water, or he is noteven found to be in the house, then not to be vexed or to burst withpassion, is not this acceptable to the gods? "How then shall a manendure such persons as this slave?" Slave yourself, will you notbear with your own brother, who has Zeus for his progenitor, and islike a son from the same seeds and of the same descent from above? Butif you have been put in any such higher place, will you immediatelymake yourself a tyrant? Will you not remember who you are, and whomyou rule? that they are kinsmen, that they are brethren by nature,that they are the offspring of Zeus? "But I have purchased them, andthey have not purchased me." Do you see in what direction you arelooking, that it is toward the earth, toward the pit, that it istoward these wretched laws of dead men? but toward the laws of thegods you are not looking.  CHAPTER 14  That the deity oversees all things  When a person asked him how a man could be convinced that all hisactions are under the inspection of God, he answered, Do you not thinkthat all things are united in one? "I do," the person replied. Well,do you not think that earthly things have a natural agreement andunion with heavenly things "I do." And how else so regularly as ifby God's command, when He bids the plants to flower, do they flower?when He bids them to send forth shoots, do they shoot? when He bidsthem to produce fruit, how else do they produce fruit? when He bidsthe fruit to ripen, does it ripen? when again He bids them to castdown the fruits, how else do they cast them down? and when to shed theleaves, do they shed the leaves? and when He bids them to foldthemselves up and to remain quiet and rest, how else do they remainquiet and rest? And how else at the growth and the wane of the moon,and at the approach and recession of the sun, are so great analteration and change to the contrary seen in earthly things? Butare plants and our bodies so bound up and united with the whole, andare not our souls much more? and our souls so bound up and incontact with God as parts of Him and portions of Him; and does not Godperceive every motion of these parts as being His own motion connatewith Himself? Now are you able to think of the divineadministration, and about all things divine, and at the same time alsoabout human affairs, and to be moved by ten thousand things at thesame time in your senses and in your understanding, and to assent tosome, and to dissent from others, and again as to some things tosuspend your judgment; and do you retain in your soul so manyimpressions from so many and various things, and being moved bythem, do you fall upon notions similar to those first impressed, anddo you retain numerous arts and the memories of ten thousand things;and is not God able to oversee all things, and to be present with all,and to receive from all a certain communication? And is the sun ableto illuminate so large a part of the All, and to leave so little notilluminated, that part only which is occupied by the earth's shadow;and He who made the sun itself and makes it go round, being a smallpart of Himself compared with the whole, cannot He perceive allthings?  "But I cannot," the man may reply, "comprehend all these things atonce." But who tells you that you have equal power with Zeus?Nevertheless he has placed by every man a guardian, every man's Demon,to whom he has committed the care of the man, a guardian who neversleeps, is never deceived. For to what better and more carefulguardian could He have entrusted each of us? When, then, you have shutthe doors and made darkness within, remember never to say that you arealone, for you are not; but God is within, and your Demon is within,and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To thisGod you ought to swear an oath just as the soldiers do to Caesar.But they who are hired for pay swear to regard the safety of Caesarbefore all things; and you who have received so many and such greatfavours, will you not swear, or when you have sworn, will you notabide by your oath? And what shall you swear? Never to be disobedient,never to make any charges, never to find fault with anything that hehas given, and never unwillingly to do or to suffer anything, thatis necessary. Is this oath like the soldier's oath? The soldiers swearnot to prefer any man to Caesar: in this oath men swear to honourthemselves before all.  CHAPTER 15  What philosophy promises  When a man was consulting him how he should persuade his brotherto cease being angry with him, Epictetus replied: Philosophy doesnot propose to secure for a man any external thing. If it didphilosophy would be allowing something which is not within itsprovince. For as the carpenter's material is wood, and that of thestatuary is copper, so the matter of the art of living is each man'slife. "What then is my brother's?" That again belongs to his ownart; but with respect to yours, it is one of the external things, likea piece of land, like health, like reputation. But Philosophy promisesnone of these. "In every circumstance I will maintain," she says, "thegoverning part conformable to nature." Whose governing part? "His inwhom I am," she says.  "How then shall my brother cease to be angry with me?" Bring himto me and I will tell him. But I have nothing to say to you abouthis anger.  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 maintainmyself in a state conformable to nature?" Nothing great, saidEpictetus, is produced suddenly, since not even the grape or the figis. If you say to me now that you want a fig, I will answer to youthat it requires time: let it flower first, then put forth fruit,and then ripen. Is, then, the fruit of a fig-tree not perfectedsuddenly and in one hour, and would you possess the fruit of a man'smind in so short a time and so easily? Do not expect it, even if Itell you.  CHAPTER 16  Of providence  Do not wonder if for other animals than man all things areprovided for the body, not only food and drink, but beds also, andthey have no need of shoes nor bed materials, nor clothing; but werequire all these additional things. For, animals not being made forthemselves, but for service, it was not fit for them to he made soas to need other things. For consider what it would be for us totake care not only of ourselves, but also about cattle and asses,how they should be clothed, and how shod, and how they should eatand drink. Now as soldiers are ready for their commander, shod,clothed and armed: but it would be a hard thing, for the chiliarchto go round and shoe or clothe his thousand men; so also nature hasformed the animals which are made for service, all ready, prepared,and requiring no further care. So one little boy with only a stickdrives the cattle.  But now we, instead of being thankful that we need not take the samecare of animals as of ourselves, complain of God on our own account;and yet, in the name of Zeus and the gods, any one thing of thosewhich exist would be enough to make a man perceive the providence ofGod, at least a man who is modest and grateful. And speak not to menow of the great thins, but only of this, that milk is produced fromgrass, and cheese from milk, and wool from skins. Who made thesethings or devised them? "No one," you say. Oh, amazing shamelessnessand stupidity!  Well, let us omit the works of nature and contemplate her smalleracts. Is there anything less useful than the hair on the chin? Whatthen, has not nature used this hair also in the most suitable mannerpossible? Has she not by it distinguished the male and the female?does not the nature of every man forthwith proclaim from a distance,"I am a man; as such approach me, as such speak to me; look fornothing else; see the signs"? Again, in the case of women, as shehas mingled something softer in the voice, so she has also deprivedthem of hair (on the chin). You say: "Not so; the human animal oughtto have been left without marks of distinction, and each of usshould have been obliged to proclaim, 'I am a man.' But how is not thesign beautiful and becoming, and venerable? how much more beautifulthan the cock's comb, how much more becoming than the lion's mane? Forthis reason we ought to preserve the signs which God has given, weought not to throw them away, nor to confound, as much as we can,the distinctions of the sexes.  Are these the only works of providence in us? And what words aresufficient to praise them and set them forth according to their worth?For if we had understanding, ought we to do anything else both jointlyand severally than to sing hymns and bless the deity, and to tell ofhis benefits? Ought we not when we are digging and ploughing andeating to sing this hymn to God? "Great is God, who has given ussuch implements with which we shall cultivate the earth: great isGod who has given us hands, the power of swallowing, a stomach,imperceptible growth, and the power of breathing while we sleep." Thisis what we ought to sing on every occasion, and to sing the greatestand most divine hymn for giving us the faculty of comprehendingthese things and using a proper way. Well then, since most of you havebecome blind, ought there not to be some man to fill this office,and on behalf of all to sing the hymn to God? For what else can Ido, a lame old man, than sing hymns to God? If then I was anightingale, I would do the part of a nightingale: if I were a swan, Iwould do like a swan. But now I am a rational creature, and I ought topraise God: this is my work; I do it, nor will I desert this post,so long as I am allowed to keep it; and I exhort you to join in thissame song.  CHAPTER 17  That the logical art is necessary  Since reason is the faculty which analyses and perfects the rest,and it ought itself not to be unanalysed, by what should it beanalysed? for it is plain that this should be done either by itself orby another thing. Either, then, this other thing also is reason, orsomething else superior to reason; which is impossible. But if it isreason, again who shall analyse that reason? For if that reason doesthis for itself, our reason also can do it. But we shall requiresomething else, the thing, will go on to infinity and have no end.Reason therefore is analysed by itself. "Yes: but it is more urgent tocure (our opinions) and the like." Will you then hear about thosethings? Hear. But if you should say, "I know not whether you arearguing truly or falsely," and if I should express myself in any wayambiguously, and you should say to me, " Distinguish," I will bearwith you no longer, and I shall say to "It is more urgent." This isthe reason, I suppose, why they place the logical art first, as in themeasuring of corn we place first the examination of the measure. Butif we do not determine first what is a modius, and what is abalance, how shall we be able to measure or weigh anything?  In this case, then, if we have not fully learned and accuratelyexamined the criterion of all other things, by which the otherthings are learned, shall we be able to examine accurately and tolearn fully anything else? "Yes; but the modius is only wood, and athing which produces no fruit." But it is a thing which can measurecorn. "Logic also produces no fruit." As to this indeed we shallsee: but then even if a man should rant this, it is enough thatlogic has the power of distinguishing and examining other things, and,as we may say, of measuring and weighing them. Who says this? Is itonly Chrysippus, and Zeno, and Cleanthes? And does not Antisthenes sayso? And who is it that has written that the examination of names isthe beginning of education? And does not Socrates say so? And ofwhom does Xenophon write, that he began with the examination of names,what each name signified? Is this then the great and wondrous thing tounderstand or interpret Chrysippus? Who says this? What then is thewondrous thing? To understand the will of nature. Well then do youapprehend it yourself by your own power? and what more have you needof? For if it is true that all men err involuntarily, and you havelearned the truth, of necessity you must act right. "But in truth I donot apprehend the will of nature." Who then tells us what it is?They say that it is Chrysippus. I proceed, and I inquire what thisinterpreter of nature says. I begin not to understand what he says;I seek an interpreter of Chrysippus. "Well, consider how this is said,just as if it were said in the Roman tongue." What then is thissuperciliousness of the interpreter? There is no superciliousnesswhich can justly he charged even to Chrysippus, if he onlyinterprets the will of nature, but does not follow it himself; andmuch more is this so with his interpreter. For we have no need ofChrysippus for his own sake, but in order that we may understandnature. Nor do we need a diviner on his own account, but because wethink that through him we shall know the future and understand thesigns given by the gods; nor do we need the viscera of animals fortheir own sake, but because through them signs are given; nor do welook with wonder on the crow or raven, but on God, who through themgives signs?  I go then to the interpreter of these things and the sacrificer, andI say, "Inspect the viscera for me, and tell me what signs they give."The man takes the viscera, opens them, and interprets them: "Man,"he says, "you have a will free by nature from hindrance andcompulsion; this is written here in the viscera. I will show youthis first in the matter of assent. Can any man hinder you fromassenting to the truth? No man can. Can any man compel you toreceive what is false? No man can. You see that in this matter youhave the faculty of the will free from hindrance, free fromcompulsion, unimpeded." Well, then, in the matter of desire andpursuit of an object, is it otherwise? And what can overcome pursuitexcept another pursuit? And what can overcome desire and aversionexcept another desire and aversion? But, you object: "If you placebefore me the fear of death, you do compel me." No, it is not whatis placed before you that compels, but your opinion that it isbetter to do so-and-so than to die. In this matter, then, it is youropinion that compelled you: that is, will compelled will. For if Godhad made that part of Himself, which He took from Himself and gaveto us, of such a nature as to be hindered or compelled either byHimself or by another, He would not then be God nor would He be takingcare of us as He ought. "This," says the diviner, "I find in thevictims: these are the things which are signified to you. If youchoose, you are free; if you choose, you will blame no one: you willcharge no one. All will be at the same time according to your mind andthe mind of God." For the sake of this divination I go to this divinerand to the philosopher, not admiring him for this interpretation,but admiring the things which he interprets.  CHAPTER 18  That we ought not to he angry with the errors of others  If what philosophers say is true, that all men have one principle,as in the case of assent the persuasion that a thing is so, and in thecase of dissent the persuasion that a thing is not so, and in the caseof a suspense of judgment the persuasion that a thing is uncertain, soalso in the case of a movement toward anything the persuasion that athing is for a man's advantage, and it is impossible to think that onething is advantageous and to desire another, and to judge one thing tobe proper and to move toward another, why then are we angry with themany? "They are thieves and robbers," you may say. What do you mean bythieves and robbers? "They are mistaken about good and evil." Ought wethen to be angry with them, or to pity them? But show them theirerror, and you will see how they desist from their errors. If theydo not see their errors, they have nothing superior to their presentopinion.  "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 hasbeen mistaken and deceived about the most important things, andblinded, not in the faculty of vision which distinguishes white andblack, but in the faculty which distinguishes good and bad, shouldwe not destroy him?" If you speak thus, you will see how inhumanthis is which you say, and that it is just as if you would say, "Oughtwe not to destroy this blind and deaf man?" But if the greatest harmis the privation of the greatest things, and the greatest thing inevery man is the will or choice such as it ought to be, and a man isdeprived of this will, why are you also angry with him? Man, you oughtnot to be affected contrary to nature by the bad things of another.Pity him rather: drop this readiness to be offended and to hate, andthese 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 ofwhich these men rob us? Do not admire your clothes, and then youwill not be angry with the thief. Do not admire the beauty of yourwife, and you will not be angry with the adulterer. Learn that a thiefand an adulterer have no place in the things which are yours, but inthose which belong to others and which are not in your power. If youdismiss these things and consider them as nothing, with whom are youstill angry? But so long as you value these things, be angry withyourself rather than with the thief and the adulterer. Consider thematter thus: you have fine clothes; your neighbor has not: you havea window; you wish to air the clothes. The thief does not know whereinman's good consists, but he thinks that it consists in having fineclothes, the very thing which you also think. Must he not then comeand take them away? When you show a cake to greedy persons, andswallow 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 householdgods: hearing a noise at the door, I ran down, and found that the lamphad been carried off. I reflected that he who had taken  the lamphad done nothing strange. What then? To-morrow, I said, you willfind an earthen lamp: for a man only loses that which he has. "Ihave lost my garment." The reason is that you had a garment. "I havepain in my head." Have you any pain in your horns? Why then are youtroubled? for we only lose those things, we have only pains aboutthose things which we possess.  "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? thewill. 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 thehead." 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 notgroan inwardly; and if your slave is slow in bringing a bandage, donot cry out and torment yourself, and say, "Everybody hates me": forwho would not hate such a man? For the future, relying on theseopinions, walk about upright, free; not trusting to the size of yourbody, as an athlete, for a man ought not to be invincible in the waythat an ass is.  Who then is the invincible? It is he whom none of the things disturbwhich are independent of the will. Then examining one circumstanceafter another I observe, as in the case of an athlete; he has come offvictorious in the first contest: well then, as to the second? and whatif there should be great heat? and what, if it should be at Olympia?And the same I say in this case: if you should throw money in his way,he will despise it. Well, suppose you put a young girl in his way,what then? and what, if it is in the dark? what if it should be alittle reputation, or abuse; and what, if it should be praise; andwhat if it should be death? He is able to overcome all. What then ifit be in heat, and what if it is in the rain, and what if he be in amelancholy mood, and what if he be asleep? He will still conquer. Thisis my invincible athlete.  CHAPTER 19  How we should behave to tyrants  If a man possesses any superiority, or thinks that he does, whenhe does not, such a man, if he is uninstructed, will of necessity bepuffed up through it. For instance, the tyrant says, "I am master ofall." And what can you do for me? Can you give me desire which shallhave no hindrance? How can you? Have you the infallible power ofavoiding what you would avoid? Have you the power of moving towardan object without error? And how do you possess this power? Come, whenyou are in a ship, do you trust to yourself or to the helmsman? Andwhen you are in a chariot, to whom do you trust but to the driver? Andhow is it in all other arts? Just the same. In what then lies yourpower? "All men pay respect to me." Well, I also pay respect to myplatter, and I wash it and wipe it; and for the sake of my oilflask, I drive a peg into the wall. Well then, are these thingssuperior to me? No, but they supply some of my wants, and for thisreason I take care of them. Well, do I not attend to my ass? Do Inot wash his feet? Do I not clean him? Do you not know that everyman has regard to himself, and to you just the same as he has regardto his ass? For who has regard to you as a man? Show me. Who wishes tobecome like you? Who imitates you, as he imitates Socrates? "But I cancut off your head." You say right. I had forgotten that I must haveregard to you, as I would to a fever and the bile, and raise analtar to you, as there is at Rome an altar to fever.  What is it then that disturbs and terrifies the multitude? is it thetyrant and his guards? I hope that it is not so. It is not possiblethat what is by nature free can be disturbed by anything else, orhindered by any other thing than by itself. But it is a man's ownopinions which disturb him: for when the tyrant says to a man, "I willchain your leg," he who values his leg says, "Do not; have pity":but he who values his own will says, "If it appears moreadvantageous to you, chain it." "Do you not care?" I do not care. "Iwill show you that I am master." You cannot do that. Zeus has set mefree: do you think that he intended to allow his own son to beenslaved? But you are master of my carcass: take it. "So when youapproach me, you have no regard to me?" No, but I have regard tomyself; and if you wish me to say that I have regard to you also, Itell you that I have the same regard to you that I have to my pipkin.  This is not a perverse self-regard, for the animal is constituted soas to do all things for itself. For even the sun does all things foritself; nay, even Zeus himself. But when he chooses to be the Giver ofrain and the Giver of fruits, and the Father of gods and men, yousee that he cannot obtain these functions and these names, if he isnot useful to man; and, universally, he has made the nature of therational animal such that it cannot obtain any one of its own properinterests, if it does not contribute something to the common interest.In this manner and sense it is not unsociable for a man to doeverything, for the sake of himself. For what do you expect? that aman should neglect himself and his own interest? And how in thatcase can there be one and the same principle in all animals, theprinciple of attachment to themselves?  What then? when absurd notions about things independent of our will,as if they were good and bad, lie at the bottom of our opinions, wemust of necessity pay regard to tyrants; for I wish that men would payregard to tyrants only, and not also to the bedchamber men. How isit that the man becomes all at once wise, when Caesar has made himsuperintendent of the close stool? How is it that we sayimmediately, "Felicion spoke sensibly to me." I wish he were ejectedfrom the bedchamber, that he might again appear to you to be a fool.  Epaphroditus had a shoemaker whom he sold because he was good fornothing. This fellow by some good luck was bought by one of Caesar'smen, and became Caesar's shoemaker. You should have seen whatrespect Epaphroditus paid to him: "How does the good Felicion do, Ipray?" Then if any of us asked, "What is master doing?" the answer "Heis consulting about something with Felicion." Had he not sold theman as good for nothing? Who then made him wise all at once? This isan instance of valuing something else than the things which dependon the will.  Has a man been exalted to the tribuneship? All who meet him offertheir congratulations; one kisses his eyes, another the neck, andthe slaves kiss his hands. He goes to his house, he finds torcheslighted. He ascends the Capitol: he offers a sacrifice of theoccasion. Now who ever sacrificed for having had good desires? forhaving acted conformably to nature? For in fact we thank the godsfor those things in which we place our good.  A person was talking to me to-day about the priesthood ofAugustus. I say to him: "Man, let the thing alone: you will spend muchfor no purpose." But he replies, "Those who draw up agreements willwrite any name." Do you then stand by those who read them, and sayto such persons, "It is I whose name is written there;" And if you cannow be present on all such occasions, what will you do when you aredead? "My name will remain." Write it on a stone, and it willremain. But come, what remembrance of you will there be beyondNicopolis? "But I shall wear a crown of gold." If you desire a crownat all, take a crown of roses and put it on, for it will be moreelegant in appearance.  CHAPTER 20  About reason, how it contemplates itself  Every art and faculty contemplates certain things especially. Whenthen it is itself of the same kind with the objects which itcontemplates, it must of necessity contemplate itself also: but whenit is of an unlike kind, it cannot contemplate itself. For instance,the shoemaker's art is employed on skins, but itself is entirelydistinct from the material of skins: for this reason it does notcontemplate itself. Again, the grammarian's art is employed aboutarticulate speech; is then the art also articulate speech? By nomeans. For this reason it is not able to contemplate itself. Nowreason, for what purpose has it been given by nature? For the rightuse of appearances. What is it then itself? A system of certainappearances. So by its nature it has the faculty of contemplatingitself so. Again, sound sense, for the contemplation of what thingsdoes it belong to us? Good and evil, and things which are neither.What is it then itself? Good. And want of sense, what is it? Evil.Do you see then that good sense necessarily contemplates both itselfand the opposite? For this reason it is the chief and the first workof a philosopher to examine appearances, and to distinguish them,and to admit none without examination. You see even in the matter ofcoin, in which our interest appears to be somewhat concerned, how wehave invented an art, and how many means the assayer uses to try thevalue of coin, the sight, the touch, the smell, and lastly thehearing. He throws the coin down, and observes the sound, and he isnot content with its sounding once, but through his great attention hebecomes a musician. In like manner, where we think that to be mistakenand not to be mistaken make a great difference, there we apply greatattention to discovering the things which can deceive. But in thematter of our miserable ruling faculty, yawning and sleeping, wecarelessly admit every appearance, for the harm is not noticed.  When then you would know how careless you are with respect to goodand evil, and how active with respect to things which are indifferent,observe how you feel with respect to being deprived of the sight ofeyes, and how with respect of being deceived, and you will discoveryou are far from feeling as you ought to in relation to good and evil."But this is a matter which requires much preparation, and muchlabor and study." Well then do you expect to acquire the greatest ofarts with small labor? And yet the chief doctrine of philosophers isbrief. If you would know, read Zeno's writings and you will see. Forhow few words it requires to say man's end is to follow the god's, andthat the nature of good is a proper use of appearances. But if you say"What is 'God,' what is 'appearance,' and what is 'particular' andwhat is 'universal nature'? then indeed many words are necessary. Ifthen Epicures should come and say that the good must be in the body;in this case also many words become necessary, and we must be taughtwhat is the leading principle in us, and the fundamental and thesubstantial; and as it is not probable that the good of a snail isin the shell, is it probable that the good of a man is in the body?But you yourself, Epicurus, possess something better than this. Whatis that in you which deliberates, what is that which examineseverything, what is that which forms a judgement about the bodyitself, that it is the principle part? and why do you light yourlamp and labor for us, and write so many books? is it that we maynot be ignorant of the truth, who we are, and what we are with respectto you? Thus the discussion requires many words.  CHAPTER 21  Against those who wish to be admired  When a man holds his proper station in life, he does not gapeafter things beyond it. Man, what do you wish to happen to you? "Iam satisfied if I desire and avoid conformably to nature, if Iemploy movements toward and from an object as I am by nature formed todo, and purpose and design and assent." Why then do you strut beforeus as if you had swallowed a spit? "My wish has always been that thosewho meet me should admire me, and those who follow me shouldexclaim, 'Oh, the great philosopher.'" Who are they by whom you wishto be admired? Are they not those of whom you are used to say thatthey are mad? Well then do you wish to be admired by madmen?  CHAPTER 22  On precognitions  Precognitions are common to all men, and precognition is notcontradictory to precognition. For who of us does not assume that Goodis useful and eligible, and in all circumstances that we ought tofollow and pursue it? And who of us does not assume that justice isbeautiful and becoming? When, then, does the contradiction arise? Itarises in the adaptation of the precognitions to the particular cases.When one man says, "He has done well: he is a brave man," andanother says, "Not so; but he has acted foolishly"; then thedisputes arise among men. This is the dispute among the Jews and theSyrians and the Egyptians and the Romans; not whether holinessshould be preferred to all things and in all cases should bepursued, but whether it is holy to eat pig's flesh or not holy. Youwill find this dispute also between Agamemnon and Achilles; for callthem forth. What do you say, Agamemnon ought not that to be done whichis proper and right? "Certainly." Well, what do you say, Achilles?do you not admit that what is good ought to be done? "I do mostcertainly." Adapt your precognitions then to the present matter.Here the dispute begins. Agamemnon says, "I ought not to give upChryseis to her father." Achilles says, "You ought." It is certainthat one of the two makes a wrong adaptation of the precognition ofought" or "duty." Further, Agamemnon says, "Then if I ought to restoreChryseis, it is fit that I take his prize from some of you."Achilles replies, "Would you then take her whom I love?" "Yes, herwhom 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.  What then is education? Education is the learning how to adapt thenatural precognitions to the particular things conformably tonature; and then to distinguish that of things some are in ourpower, but others are not; in our power are will and all acts whichdepend on the will; things not in our power are the body, the parts ofthe body, possessions, parents, brothers, children, country, and,generally, all with whom we live in society. In what, then, shouldwe place the good? To what kind of things shall we adapt it? "To thethings which are in our power?" Is not health then a good thing, andsoundness of limb, and life? and are not children and parents andcountry? Who will tolerate you if you deny this?  Let us then transfer the notion of good to these things. is itpossible, then, when a man sustains damage and does not obtain goodthings, that he can be happy? "It is not possible." And can hemaintain toward society a proper behavior? He cannot. For I amnaturally formed to look after my own interest. If it is my interestto have an estate in land, it is my interest also to take it from myneighbor. If it is my interest to have a garment, it is my interestalso to steal it from the bath. This is the origin of wars, civilcommotions, tyrannies, conspiracies. And how shall I be still ableto maintain my duty toward Zeus? for if I sustain damage and amunlucky, he takes no care of me; and what is he to me if he allowsme to be in the condition in which I am? I now begin to hate him. Why,then, do we build temples, why set up statues to Zeus, as well as toevil demons, such as to Fever; and how is Zeus the Saviour, and howthe Giver of rain, and the Giver of fruits? And in truth if we placethe nature of Good in any such things, all this follows.  What should we do then? This is the inquiry of the truephilosopher who is in labour. "Now I do not see what the Good is northe Bad. Am I not mad? Yes." But suppose that I place the goodsomewhere among the things which depend on the will: all will laugh atme. There will come some grey-head wearing many gold rings on hisfingers and he will shake his head and say, "Hear, my child. It isright that you should philosophize; but you ought to have somebrains also: all this that you are doing is silly. You learn thesyllogism from philosophers; but you know how to act better thanphilosophers do." Man, why then do you blame me, if I know? What shallI say to this slave? If I am silent, he will burst. I must speak inthis way: "Excuse me, as you would excuse lovers: I am not my ownmaster: I am mad."  CHAPTER 23  Against Epicurus  Even Epicurus perceives that we are by nature social, but havingonce placed our good in the husk he is no longer able to sayanything else. For on the other hand he strongly maintains this,that we ought not to admire nor to accept anything which is detachedfrom the nature of good; and he is right in maintaining this. How thenare we [suspicious], if we have no natural affection to ourchildren? Why do you advise the wise man not to bring up children? Whyare you afraid that he may thus fall into trouble? For does he fallinto trouble on account of the mouse which is nurtured in the house?What does he care if a little mouse in the house makes lamentationto him? But Epicurus knows that if once a child is born, it is nolonger in our power not to love it nor care about it. For this reason,Epicurus says that a man who has any sense also does not engage inpolitical matters; for he knows what a man must do who is engaged insuch things; for, indeed, if you intend to behave among men as youdo among a swarm of flies, what hinders you? But Epicurus, who knowsthis, ventures to say that we should not bring up children. But asheep does not desert its own offspring, nor yet a wolf; and shall aman desert his child? What do you mean? that we should be as sillyas sheep? but not even do they desert their offspring: or as savage aswolves, but not even do wolves desert their young. Well, who wouldfollow your advice, if he saw his child weeping after falling on theground? For my part I think that, even if your mother and yourfather had been told by an oracle that you would say what you havesaid, they would not have cast you away.  CHAPTER 24  How we should struggle with circumstances  It is circumstances which show what men are. Therefore when adifficulty falls upon you, remember that God, like a trainer ofwrestlers, has matched you with a rough young man. "For what purpose?"you may say, Why, that you may become an Olympic conqueror; but itis not accomplished without sweat. In my opinion no man has had a moreprofitable difficulty than you have had, if you choose to make useof it as an athlete would deal with a young antagonist. We are nowsending a scout to Rome; but no man sends a cowardly scout, who, if heonly hears a noise and sees a shadow anywhere, comes running back interror and reports that the enemy is close at hand. So now if youshould come and tell us, "Fearful is the state of affairs at Rome,terrible is death, terrible is exile; terrible is calumny; terrible ispoverty; fly, my friends; the enemy is near"; we shall answer,"Begone, prophesy for yourself; we have committed only one fault, thatwe sent such a scout."  Diogenes, who was sent as a scout before you, made a differentreport to us. He says that death is no evil, for neither is it base:he says that fame is the noise of madmen. And what has this spy saidabout pain, about pleasure, and about poverty? He says that to benaked is better than any purple robe, and to sleep on the bareground is the softest bed; and he gives as a proof of each thingthat he affirms his own courage, his tranquillity his freedom, and thehealthy appearance and compactness of his body. "There is no enemyhe says; "all is peace." How so, Diogenes? "See," he replies, "if I amstruck, if I have been wounded, if I have fled from any man." Thisis what a scout ought to be. But you come to us and tell us onething after another. Will you not go back, and you will see clearerwhen you have laid aside fear?  What then shall I do? What do you do when you leave a ship? Do youtake away the helm or the oars? What then do you take away? You takewhat is your own, your bottle and your wallet; and now if you think ofwhat is your own, you will never claim what belongs to others. Theemperor says, "Lay aside your laticlave." See, I put on theangusticlave. "Lay aside this also." See, I have only my toga. "Layaside your toga." See, I am naked. "But you still raise my envy." Takethen all my poor body; when, at a man's command, I can throw away mypoor body, do I still fear him?  "But a certain person will not leave to me the succession to hisestate." What then? had I forgotten that not one of these things wasmine. How then do we call them mine? just as we call the bed in theinn. If, then, the innkeeper at his death leaves you the beds, allwell; but if he leaves them to another, he will have them, and youwill seek another bed. If then you shall not find one, you willsleep on the ground: only sleep with a good will and snore, andremember that tragedies have their place among the rich and kingsand tyrants, but no poor man fills a part in the tragedy, except asone of the chorus. Kings indeed commence with prosperity: "ornamentthe palaces with garlands," then about the third or fourth act theycall out, "O Cithaeron, why didst thou receive me?" Slave, where arethe crowns, where the diadem? The guards help thee not at all. Whenthen you approach any of these persons, remember this that you areapproaching a tragedian, not the actor but OEdipus himself. But yousay, "Such a man is happy; for he walks about with many," and I alsoplace myself with the many and walk about with many. In sum rememberthis: the door is open; be not more timid than little children, but asthey say, when the thing does not please them, "I will play no loner,"so do you, when things seem to you of such a kind, say I will nolonger play, and begone: but if you stay, do not complain.  CHAPTER 25  On the same  If these things are true, and if we are not silly, and are notacting 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, whyare we still disturbed, why are we still afraid? The things aboutwhich we have been busied are in no man's power: and the thingswhich are in the power of others, we care not for. What kind oftrouble have we still?  "But give me directions." Why should I give you directions? hasnot Zeus given you directions? Has he not given to you what is yourown free from hindrance and free from impediment, and what is not yourown subject to hindrance and impediment? What directions then, whatkind of orders did you bring when you came from him? Keep by everymeans what is your own; do not desire what belongs to others. Fidelityis your own, virtuous shame is your own; who then can take thesethings from you? who else than yourself will hinder you from usingthem? But how do you act? when you seek what is not your own, you losethat 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 Imore worthy of confidence? But if you observe these, do you want anyothers besides? "Well, but he has not given these orders" you willsay. Produce your precognitions, produce the proofs of philosophers,produce what you have often heard, and produce what you have saidyourself, produce what you have read, produce what you havemeditated on (and you will then see that all these things are fromGod). How long, then, is it fit to observe these precepts from God,and not to break up the play? As long as the play is continued withpropriety. In the Saturnalia a king is chosen by lot, for it hasbeen the custom to play at this game. The king commands: "Do youdrink," "Do you mix the wine," "Do you sing," "Do you go," "Do youcome." I obey that the game may be broken up through me. But if hesays, "Think that you are in evil plight": I answer, "I do not thinkso"; and who compel me to think so? Further, we agreed to playAgamemnon and Achilles. He who is appointed to play Agamemnon saysto me, "Go to Achilles and tear from him Briseis." I go. He says,"Come," and I come.  For as we behave in the matter of hypothetical arguments, so oughtwe to do in life. "Suppose it to be night." I suppose that it isnight. "Well then; is it day?" No, for I admitted the hypothesisthat it was night. "Suppose that you think that it is night?"Suppose that I do. "But also think that it is night." That is notconsistent with the hypothesis. So in this case also: "Suppose thatyou are unfortunate." Well, suppose so. "Are you then unhappy?" Yes."Well, then, are you troubled with an unfavourable demon?" Yes. "Butthink also that you are in misery." This is not consistent with thehypothesis; and Another forbids me to think so.  How long then must we obey such orders? As long as it is profitable;and this means as long as I maintain that which is becoming andconsistent. Further, some men are sour and of bad temper, and theysay, "I cannot sup with this man to be obliged to hear him tellingdaily how he fought in Mysia: 'I told you, brother, how I ascended thehill: then I began to be besieged again.'" But another says, "I preferto get my supper and to hear him talk as much as he likes." And do youcompare these estimates: only do nothing in a depressed mood, nor asone afflicted, nor as thinking that you are in misery, for no mancompels you to that. Has it smoked in the chamber? If the smoke ismoderate, I will stay; if it is excessive, I go out: for you mustalways remember this and hold it fast, that the door is open. Well,but you say to me, "Do not live in Nicopolis." I will not livethere. "Nor in Athens." I will not live in Athens. "Nor in Rome." Iwill not live in Rome. "Live in Gyarus." I will live in Gyarus, but itseems like a great smoke to live in Gyarus; and I depart to theplace where no man will hinder me from living, for that dwelling-placeis open to all; and as to the last garment, that is the poor body,no one has any power over me beyond this. This was the reason whyDemetrius said to Nero, "You threaten me with death, but naturethreatens you." If I set my admiration on the poor body, I havegiven myself up to be a slave: if on my little possessions, I alsomake myself a slave: for I immediately make it plain with what I maybe caught; as if the snake draws in his head, I tell you to strikethat part of him which he guards; and do you he assured thatwhatever part you choose to guard, that part your master willattack. Remembering this, whom will you still flatter or fear?  "But I should like to sit where the Senators sit." Do you see thatyou 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 yougive yourself trouble? Or wait a little, and when the spectacle isover, seat yourself in the place reserved for the Senators and sunyourself. For remember this general truth, that it is we who squeezeourselves, who put ourselves in straits; that is, our opinions squeezeus and put us in straits. For what is it to be reviled? Stand by astone and revile it; and what will you gain? If, then, a man listenslike a stone, what profit is there to the reviler? But if thereviler has as a stepping-stone 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.  This was the practice of Socrates: this was the reason why he alwayshad one face. But we choose to practice and study anything rather thanthe means by which we shall be unimpeded and free. You say,"Philosophers talk paradoxes." But are there no paradoxes in the otherarts? and what is more paradoxical than to puncture a man's eye inorder that he may see? If any one said this to a man ignorant of thesurgical art, would he not ridicule the speaker? Where is the wonderthen if in philosophy also many things which are true appearparadoxical to the inexperienced?  CHAPTER 26  What is the law of life  When a person was reading hypothetical arguments, Epictetus said:This also is an hypothetical law that we must accept what follows fromthe hypothesis. But much before this law is the law of life, that wemust act conformably to nature. For if in every matter andcircumstance we wish to observe what is natural, it is plain that ineverything we ought to make it our aim that is consequent shall notescape us, and that we do not admit the contradictory. First, then,philosophers exercise us in theory, which is easier; and then nextthey lead us to the more difficult things; for in theory, there isnothing which draws us away from following what is taught; but inthe matters of life, many are the things which distract us. He isridiculous, then, who says that he wishes to begin with the matters ofreal life, for it is not easy to begin with the more difficult things;and we ought to employ this fact as an argument to those parents whoare vexed at their children learning philosophy: "Am I doing wrongthen, my father, and do I not know what is suitable to me andbecoming? If indeed this can neither be learned nor taught, why do youblame me? but if it can he taught, teach me; and if you cannot,allow me to learn from those who say that they know how to teach.For what do you think? do you suppose that I voluntarily fall intoevil and miss the good? I hope that it may not be so. What is then thecause of my doing wrong? Ignorance. Do you not choose then that Ishould get rid of my ignorance? Who was ever taught by anger the artof a pilot or music? Do you think then that by means of your anger Ishall learn the art of life?" He only is allowed to speak in thisway who has shown such an intention. But if a man only intending tomake a display at a banquet and to show that he is acquainted withhypothetical arguments reads them and attends the philosophers, whatother object has he than that some man of senatorian rank who sitsby him may admire? For there are the really great materials, and theriches here appear to be trifles there. This is the reason why it isdifficult for a man to be master of the appearances, where thethings which disturb the judgement are great. I know a certainperson who complained, as he embraced the knees of Epaphroditus,that he had only one hundred and fifty times ten thousand denariiremaining. What then did Epaphroditus do? Did he laugh at him, as weslaves of Epaphroditus did? No, but he cried out with amazement, "Poorman, how did you keep silence, how did you endure it?"  When Epictetus had reproved the person who was reading thehypothetical arguments, and the teacher who had suggested thereading was laughing at the reader, Epictetus said to the teacher:"You are laughing at yourself; you did not prepare the young man nordid you ascertain whether he was able to understand these matters; butperhaps you are only employing him as a reader." Well then, saidEpictetus, if a man has not ability enough to understand a complex, dowe trust him in, giving praise, do we trust him in giving blame, do weallow that he is able to form a judgement about good or bad? and ifsuch a man blames any one, does the man care for the blame? and ifhe praises any one, is the man elated, when in such small matters asan hypothetical syllogism he who praises cannot see what is consequenton the hypothesis?  This then is the beginning of philosophy, a man's perception ofthe state of his ruling faculty; for when a man knows that it is weak,then he will not employ it on things of the greatest difficulty. Butat present, if men cannot swallow even a morsel, they buy wholevolumes and attempt to devour them; and this is the reason why theyvomit them up or suffer indigestion: and then come gripings, defluxes,and fevers. Such men ought to consider what their ability is. Intheory it is easy to convince an ignorant person; but in the affairsof real life no one offers himself to be convinced, and we hate theman who has convinced us. But Socrates advised us not to live a lifewhich is not subjected to examination.  CHAPTER 27  In how many ways appearances exist, and what aids we shouldprovide against them  Appearances to us in four ways: for either things appear as theyare; or they are not, and do not even appear to be; or they are, anddo not appear to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Further,in all these cases to form a right judgement is the office of aneducated man. But whatever it is that annoys us, to that we ought toapply a remedy. If the sophisms of Pyrrho and of the Academics arewhat annoys, we must apply the remedy to them. If it is the persuasionof appearances, by which some things appear to be good, when theyare not good, let us seek a remedy for this. If it is habit whichannoys us, we must try to seek aid against habit. What aid then can wefind against habit, The contrary habit. You hear the ignorant say:"That unfortunate person is dead: his father and mother areoverpowered with sorrow; he was cut off by an untimely death and ina foreign land." Here the contrary way of speaking: tear yourself fromthese expressions: oppose to one habit the contrary habit; tosophistry oppose reason, and the exercise and discipline of reason;against persuasive appearances we ought to have manifestprecognitions, cleared of all impurities and ready to hand.  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 necessarything. For what shall I do, and where shall I escape it? Supposethat I am not Sarpedon, the son of Zeus, nor able to speak in thisnoble way: "I will go and I am resolved either to behave bravelymyself or to give to another the opportunity of doing so; if Icannot succeed in doing anything myself, I will not grudge another thedoing of something noble." Suppose that it is above our power to actthus; is it not in our power to reason thus? Tell me where I canescape death: discover for me the country, show me the men to whom Imust go, whom death does not visit. Discover to me a charm againstdeath. If I have not one, what do you wish me to do? I cannot escapefrom death. Shall I not escape from the fear of death, but shall I dielamenting and trembling? For the origin of perturbation is this, towish for something, and that this should not happen. Therefore if I amable to change externals according to my wish, I change them; but if Icannot, I am ready to tear out the eyes of him who hinders me. For thenature of man is not to endure to be deprived of the good, and notto endure the falling into the evil. Then, at last, when I amneither able to change circumstances nor to tear out the eyes of himwho hinders me, I sit down and groan, and abuse whom I can, Zeus andthe rest of the gods. For if they do not care for me, what are they tome? "Yes, but you will be an impious man." In what respect then willit be worse for me than it is now? To sum up, remember this thatunless piety and your interest be in the same thing, piety cannot bemaintained in any man. Do not these things seem necessary?  Let the followers of Pyrrho and the Academics come and make theirobjections. For I, as to my part, have no leisure for thesedisputes, nor am I able to undertake the defense of common consent. IfI had a suit even about a bit of land, I would call in another todefend my interests. With what evidence then am I satisfied? With thatwhich belongs to the matter in hand. How indeed perception iseffected, whether through the whole body or any part, perhaps I cannotexplain: for both opinions perplex me. But that you and I are notthe same, I know with perfect certainty. "How do you know it?" WhenI intend to swallow anything, I never carry it to your b month, but tomy own. When I intend to take bread, I never lay hold of a broom,but I always go to the bread as to a mark. And you yourselves who takeaway the evidence of the senses, do you act otherwise? Who amongyou, when he intended to enter a bath, ever went into a mill?  What then? Ought we not with all our power to hold to this also, themaintaining of general opinion, and fortifying ourselves against thearguments which are directed against it? Who denies that we ought todo this? Well, he should do it who is able, who has leisure for it;but as to him who trembles and is perturbed and is inwardly brokenin heart, he must employ his time better on something else.  CHAPTER 28  That we ought not to he angry with men; and what are the small andthe great things among men  What is the cause of assenting to anything? The fact that it appearsto be true. It is not possible then to assent to that which appearsnot to be true. Why? Because this is the nature of theunderstanding, to incline to the true, to be dissatisfied with thefalse, and in matters uncertain to withhold assent. What is theproof of this? "Imagine, if you can, that it is now night." It isnot possible. "Take away your persuasion that it is day." It is notpossible. "Persuade yourself or take away your persuasion that thestars are even in number." It is impossible. When, then, any manassents to that which is false, be assured that he did not intend toassent to it as false, for every soul is unwillingly deprived of thetruth, 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 orfalsehood? We have the fit and the not fit, the profitable and theunprofitable, that which is suitable to a person and that which isnot, and whatever is like these. Can, then, a man think that a thingis useful to him and not choose it? He cannot. How says Medea?     "'Tis true I know what evil I shall do,     But passion overpowers the better council.'"She thought that to indulge her passion and take vengeance on herhusband was more profitable than to spare her children. "It was so;but she was deceived." Show her plainly that she is deceived, andshe will not do it; but so long as you do not show it, what can shefollow except that which appears to herself? Nothing else. Why,then, are you angry with the unhappy woman that she has beenbewildered about the most important things, and is become a viperinstead of a human creature? And why not, if it is possible, ratherpity, as we pity the blind and the lame, those who are blinded andmaimed in the faculties which are supreme?  Whoever, then, clearly remembers this, that to man the measure ofevery act is the appearance- whether the thing appears good or bad: ifgood, 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 hewho suffers another person- whoever remembers this will not be angrywith any man, will not be vexed at any man, will not revile or blameany man, nor hate nor quarrel with any man.  "So then all these great and dreadful deeds have this origin, in theappearance?" Yes, this origin and no other. The Iliad is nothingelse than appearance and the use of appearances. It appeared toParis to carry off the wife of Menelaus: it appeared to Helen tofollow him. If then it had appeared to Menelaus to feel that it wasa gain to be deprived of such a wife, what would have happened? Notonly a wi would the Iliad have been lost, but the Odyssey also. "On sosmall a matter then did such great things depend?" But what do youmean by such great things? Wars and civil commotions, and thedestruction of many men and cities. And what great matter is this? "Isit nothing?" But what great matter is the death of many oxen, and manysheep, and many nests of swallows or storks being burnt ordestroyed? "Are these things, then, like those?" Very like. Bodiesof men are destroyed, and the bodies of oxen and sheep; thedwellings of men are burnt, and the nests of storks. What is therein this great or dreadful? Or show me what is the difference between aman's house and a stork's nest, as far as each is a dwelling; exceptthat man builds his little houses of beams and tiles and bricks, andthe 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.  "Does a man then differ in no respect from a stork?" Don't supposethat I say so; but there is no difference in these matters. "Inwhat, then, is the difference?" Seek and you will find that there is adifference in another matter. See whether it is not in a man theunderstanding of what he does, see if it is not in social community,in fidelity, in modesty, in steadfastness, in intelligence. Where thenis the great good and evil in men? It is where the difference is. Ifthe difference is preserved and remains fenced round, and neithermodesty is destroyed, nor fidelity, nor intelligence, then the manalso is preserved; but if any of these things is destroyed and stormedlike a city, then the man too perishes; and in this consist thegreat things. Paris, you say, sustained great damage, then, when theHellenes invaded and when they ravaged Troy, and when his brothersperished. By no means; for no man is damaged by an action which is nothis own; but what happened at that time was only the destruction ofstorks' nests: now the ruin of Paris was when he lost the character ofmodesty, fidelity, regard to hospitality, and to decency. When wasAchilles ruined? Was it when Patroclus died? Not so. But it happenedwhen he began to be angry, when he wept for a girl, when he forgotthat he was at Troy not to get mistresses, but to fight. Thesethings are the ruin of men, this is being besieged, this is thedestruction of cities, when right opinions are destroyed, when theyare corrupted.  "When, then, women are carried off, when children are made captives,and when the men are killed, are these not evils?" How is it then thatyou add to the facts these opinions? Explain this to me also. "I shallnot do that; but how is it that you say that these are not evils?" Letus come to the rules: produce the precognitions: for it is becausethis is neglected that we cannot sufficiently wonder at what men do.When we intend to judge of weights, we do not judge by guess: where weintend to judge of straight and crooked, we do not judge by guess.In all cases where it is our interest to know what is true in anymatter, never will any man among us do anything by guess. But inthings which depend on the first and on the only cause of doingright or wrong, of happiness or unhappiness, of being unfortunate orfortunate, there only we are inconsiderate and rash. There is thennothing like scales, nothing like a rule: but some appearance ispresented, and straightway I act according to it. Must I thensuppose that I am superior to Achilles or Agamemnon, so that they byfollowing appearances do and suffer so many evils: and shall not theappearance be sufficient for me? And what tragedy has any otherbeginning? The Atreus of Euripides, what is it? An appearance. TheOEdipus of Sophocles, what is it? An appearance. The Phoenix? Anappearance. The Hippolytus? An appearance. What kind of a man thendo you suppose him to be who pays no regard to this matter? And whatis the name of those who follow every appearance? "They are calledmadmen." Do we then act at all differently?  CHAPTER 29  On constancy  The being of the Good is a certain Will; the being of the Bad is acertain kind of Will. What then are externals? Materials for the Will,about which the will being conversant shall obtain its own good orevil. How shall it obtain the good? If it does not admire thematerials; for the opinions about the materials, if the opinions areright, make the will good: but perverse and distorted opinions makethe will bad. God has fixed this law, and says, "If you would haveanything good, receive it from yourself." You say, "No, but I haveit from another." Do not so: but receive it from yourself. Thereforewhen the tyrant threatens and calls me, I say, "Whom do you threatenIf he says, "I will put you in chains," I say, "You threaten myhands 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 threatensme with banishment, I say the same. "Does he, then, not threaten youat all?" If I feel that all these things do not concern me, he doesnot threaten me at all; but if I fear any of them, it is I whom hethreatens. Whom then do I fear? the master of what? The master ofthings which are in my own power? There is no such master. Do I fearthe master of things which are not in my power? And what are thesethings to me?  "Do you philosophers then teach us to despise kings?" I hope not.Who among us teaches to claim against them the power over things whichthey possess? Take my poor body, take my property, take my reputation,take those who are about me. If I advise any persons to claim thesethings, they may truly accuse me. "Yes, but I intend to command youropinions also." And who has given you this power? How can youconquer the opinion of another man? "By applying terror to it," hereplies, "I will conquer it." Do you not know that opinion conquersitself, and is not conquered by another? But nothing else canconquer Will except the Will itself. For this reason, too, the lawof God is most powerful and most just, which is this: "Let thestronger always be superior to the weaker." "Ten are stronger thanone." For what? For putting in chains, for killing, for draggingwhither they choose, for taking away what a man has. The ten thereforeconquer the one in this in which they are stronger. "In what thenare the ten weaker," If the one possess right opinions and theothers do not. "Well then, can the ten conquer in this matter?" How isit possible? If we were placed in the scales, must not the heavierdraw down the scale in which it is?  "How strange, then, that Socrates should have been so treated by theAthenians." Slave, why do you say Socrates? Speak of the thing as itis: how strange that the poor body of Socrates should have beencarried off and dragged to prison by stronger men, and that any oneshould have given hemlock to the poor body of Socrates, and that itshould breathe out the life. Do these things seem strange. do theyseem unjust, do you on account of these things blame God? Had Socratesthen no equivalent for these things, Where, then, for him was thenature of good? Whom shall we listen to, you or him? And what doesSocrates say? "Anytus and Meletus can kill me, but they cannot hurtme": and further, he says, "If it so pleases God, so let it be."  But show me that he who has the inferior principles overpowers himwho is superior in principles. You will never show this, nor come nearshowing it; for this is the law of nature and of God that the superiorshall always overpower the inferior. In what? In that in which it issuperior. One body is stronger than another: many are stronger thanone: the thief is stronger than he who is not a thief. This is thereason why I also lost my lamp, because in wakefulness the thief wassuperior to me. But the man bought the lamp at this price: for alamp 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 meby the cloak, and is drawing me to the public place: then othersbawl out, "Philosopher, what has been the use of your opinions? seeyou are dragged to prison, you are going to be beheaded." And whatsystem of philosophy could f have made so that, if a stronger manshould have laid hold of my cloak, I should not be dragged off; thatif ten men should have laid hold of me and cast me into prison, Ishould not be cast in? Have I learned nothing else then? I havelearned to see that everything which happens, if it be independentof my will, is nothing to me. I may ask if you have not gained bythis. Why then do you seek advantage in anything else than in thatin which you have learned that advantage is?  Then sitting in prison I say: "The man who cries out in this wayneither hears what words mean, nor understands what is said, nordoes he care at all to know what philosophers say or what they do. Lethim alone."  But now he says to the prisoner, "Come out from your prison." If youhave no further need of me in prison, I come out: if you should haveneed of me again, I will enter the prison. "How long will you actthus?" So long as reason requires me to be with the body: but whenreason does not require this, take away the body, and fare you well.Only we must not do it inconsiderately, nor weakly, nor for any slightreason; for, on the other hand, God does not wish it to be done, andhe has need of such a world and such inhabitants in it. But if hesounds the signal for retreat, as he did to Socrates, we must obey himwho gives the signal, as if he were a general.  "Well, then, ought we to say such things to the many?" Why shouldwe? Is it not enough for a man to be persuaded himself? Whenchildren come clapping their hands and crying out, "To-day is the goodSaturnalia," do we say, "The Saturnalia are not good?" By no means,but we clap our hands also. Do you also then, when you are not able tomake a man change his mind, be assured that he is a child, and clapyour hands with him, and if you do not choose to do this, keep silent.  A man must keep this in mind; and when he is called to any suchdifficulty, he should know that the time is come for showing if he hasbeen instructed. For he who is come into a difficulty is like ayoung man from a school who has practiced the resolution ofsyllogisms; and if any person proposes to him an easy syllogism, hesays, "Rather propose to me a syllogism which is skillfullycomplicated that I may exercise myself on it." Even athletes aredissatisfied with slight young men, and say "He cannot lift me." "Thisis a youth of noble disposition." But when the time of trial iscome, one of you must weep and say, "I wish that I had learnedmore." A little more of what? If you did not learn these things inorder to show them in practice, why did you learn them? I think thatthere is some one among you who are sitting here, who is sufferinglike a woman in labour, and saying, "Oh, that such a difficulty doesnot present itself to me as that which has come to this man; oh,that I should be wasting my life in a corner, when I might becrowned at Olympia. When will any one announce to me such acontest?" Such ought to be the disposition of all of you. Even amongthe gladiators of Caesar there are some who complain grievously thatthey are not brought forward and matched, and they offer up prayers toGod and address themselves to their superintendents entreating thatthey might fight. And will no one among you show himself such? I wouldwillingly take a voyage for this purpose and see what my athlete isdoing, how he is studying his subject. "I do not choose such asubject," he says. Why, is it in your power to take what subject youchoose? There has been given to you such a body as you have, suchparents, such brethren, such a country, such a place in yourcountry: then you come to me and say, "Change my subject." Have younot abilities which enable you to manage the subject which has beengiven to you? "It is your business to propose; it is mine toexercise myself well." However, you do not say so, but you say, "Donot propose to me such a tropic, but such: do not urge against me suchan objection, but such." There will be a time, perhaps, when tragicactors will suppose that they are masks and buskins and the longcloak. I say, these things, man, are your material and subject.Utter something that we may know whether you are a tragic actor or abuffoon; for both of you have all the rest in common. If any onethen should take away the tragic actor's buskins and his mask, andintroduce him on the stage as a phantom, is the tragic actor lost,or does he still remain? If he has voice, he still remains.  An example of another kind. "Assume the governorship of a province."I assume it, and when I have assumed it, I show how an instructedman behaves. "Lay aside the laticlave and, clothing yourself inrags, come forward in this character." What then have I not thepower of displaying a good voice? How, then, do you now appear? As awitness summoned by God. "Come forward, you, and bear testimony forme, for you are worthy to be brought forward as a witness by me: isanything external to the will good or bad? do I hurt any man? have Imade every man's interest dependent on any man except himself?" Whattestimony do you give for God? "I am in a wretched condition,Master, and I am unfortunate; no man cares for me, no man gives meanything; all blame me, all speak ill of me." Is this the evidencethat you are going to give, and disgrace his summons, who hasconferred so much honour on you, and thought you worthy of beingcalled to bear such testimony?  But suppose that he who has the power has declared, "I judge youto be impious and profane." What has happened to you? "I have beenjudged to be impious and profane?" Nothing else? "Nothing else." Butif the same person had passed judgment on an hypothetical syllogism,and had made a declaration, "the conclusion that, if it is day, itis light, I declare to be false," what has happened to thehypothetical syllogism? who is judged in this case? who has beencondemned? the hypothetical syllogism, or the man who has beendeceived by it? Does he, then, who has the power of making anydeclaration about you know what is pious or impious? Has he studiedit, and has he learned it? Where? From whom? Then is it the factthat a musician pays no regard to him who declares that the lowestchord in the lyre is the highest; nor yet a geometrician, if hedeclares that the lines from the centre of a circle to thecircumference are not equal; and shall he who is really instructed payany regard to the uninstructed man when he pronounces judgment on whatis pious and what is impious, on what is just and unjust? Oh, thesignal wrong done by the instructed. Did they learn this here?  Will you not leave the small arguments about these matters toothers, to lazy fellows, that they may sit in a corner and receivetheir sorry pay, or grumble that no one gives them anything; andwill you not come forward and make use of what you have learned? Forit is not these small arguments that are wanted now: the writings ofthe Stoics are full of them. What then is the thing which is wanted? Aman who shall apply them, one who by his acts shall bear testimonyto his words. Assume, I, entreat you, this character, that we may nolonger use in the schools the examples of the ancients but may havesome example of our own.  To whom then does the contemplation of these matters belong? Tohim 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 atone 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 hepraises the actor and at the same time looks round: then if any onecalls out his master's name, the slave is immediately frightened anddisturbed. It is shameful for philosophers thus to contemplate theworks 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 comeswithout these things, bring Caesar to me and you will see how firm Iam. But when he shall come with these things, thundering andlightning, and when I am afraid of them, what do I do then except torecognize my master like the runaway slave? But so long as I haveany respite from these terrors, as a runaway slave stands in thetheatre, so do I: I bathe, I drink, I sing; but all this I do withterror and uneasiness. But if I shall release myself from mymasters, that is from those things by means of which masters areformidable, what further trouble have I, what master have I still?  "What then, ought we to publish these things to all men?" No, but weought to accommodate ourselves to the ignorant and to say: "This manrecommends to me that which he thinks good for himself: I excuse him."For Socrates also excused the gaoler, who had the charge of him inprison and was weeping when Socrates was going to drink the poison,and said, "How generously he laments over us." Does he then say to thegaoler that for this reason we have sent away the women? No, but hesays it to his friends who were able to hear it; and he treats thegaoler as a child.  CHAPTER 30  What we ought to have ready in difficult circumstances  When you are going into any great personage, remember that Anotheralso from above sees what is going on, and that you ought to pleaseHim rather than the other. He, then, who sees from above asks you: "Inthe schools what used you to say about exile and bonds and death anddisgrace?" I used to say that they are things indifferent. "Whatthen do you say of them now? Are they changed at all?" No. "Are youchanged then?" No. "Tell me then what things are indifferent?" Thethings which are independent of the will. "Tell me, also, what followsfrom this." The things which are independent of the will are nothingto me. "Tell me also about the Good, what was your opinion?" A willsuch as we ought to have and also such a use of appearances. "Andthe end, what is it?" To follow Thee. "Do you say this now also?" Isay the same now also.  Then go into the great personage boldly and remember these things;and you will see what a youth is who has studied these things whenhe is among men who have not studied them. I indeed imagine that youwill have such thoughts as these: "Why do we make so great and so manypreparations for nothing? Is this the thing which men name power? Isthis the antechamber? this the men of the bedchamber? this the armedguards? Is it for this that I listened to so many discourses? All thisis nothing: but I have been preparing myself for something great."DISCOURSES                                    BOOK TWO  CHAPTER 1  That confidence is not inconsistent with caution  The opinion of the philosophers, perhaps, seems to some to be aparadox; but still let us examine as well as we can, if it is truethat it is possible to do everything both with caution and withconfidence. For caution seems to be in a manner contrary toconfidence, and contraries are in no way consistent. That whichseems to many to be a paradox in the matter under consideration inmy opinion is of this kind: if we asserted that we ought to employcaution and in the same things, men might justly accuse us of bringingtogether things which cannot be united. But now where is thedifficulty in what is said? for if these things are true, which havebeen often said and often proved, that the nature of good is in theuse of appearances, and the nature of evil likewise, and that thingsindependent of our will do not admit either the nature of evil norof good, what paradox do the philosophers assert if they say thatwhere things are not dependent on the will, there you should employconfidence, but where they are dependent on the will, there you shouldemploy caution? For if the bad consists in a bad exercise of the will,caution ought only to be used where things are dependent on thewill. But if things independent of the will and not in our power arenothing to us, with respect to these we must employ confidence; andthus we shall both be cautious and confident, and indeed confidentbecause of our caution. For by employing caution toward things whichare really bad, it will result that we shall have confidence withrespect to things which are not so.  We are then in the condition of deer; when they flee from thehuntsmen's feathers in fright, whither do they turn and in what dothey seek refuge as safe? They turn to the nets, and thus theyperish by confounding things which are objects of fear with thingsthat they ought not to fear. Thus we also act: in what cases do wefear? In things which are independent of the will. In what cases, onthe contrary, do we behave with confidence, as if there were nodanger? In things dependent on the will. To be deceived then, or toact rashly, or shamelessly or with base desire to seek something, doesnot concern us at all, if we only hit the mark in things which areindependent of our will. But where there is death, or exile or pain orinfamy, there we attempt or examine to run away, there we are struckwith terror. Therefore, as we may expect it to happen with those whoerr in the greatest matters, we convert natural confidence intoaudacity, desperation, rashness, shamelessness; and we convert naturalcaution and modesty into cowardice and meanness, which are full offear and confusion. For if a man should transfer caution to thosethings in which the will may be exercised and the acts of the will, hewill immediately, by willing to be cautious, have also the power ofavoiding what he chooses: but if he transfer it to the things whichare not in his power and will, and attempt to avoid the things whichare in the power of others, he will of necessity fear, he will beunstable, 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 whosaid     Not death is evil, but a shameful death.Confidence then ought to be employed against death, and cautionagainst the fear of death. But now we do the contrary, and employagainst death the attempt to escape; and to our opinion about it weemploy carelessness, rashness and indifference. These thingsSocrates properly used to call "tragic masks"; for as to childrenmasks appear terrible and fearful from inexperience, we also areaffected in like manner by events for no other reason than childrenare by masks. For what is a child? Ignorance. What is a child? Want ofknowledge. For when a child knows these things, he is in no wayinferior to us. What is death? A "tragic mask." Turn it and examineit. See, it does not bite. The poor body must be separated from thespirit 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 notseparated now, it will be separated afterward. Why? That the period ofthe universe may be completed, for it has need of the present, andof the future, and of the past. What is pain? A mask. Turn it andexamine it. The poor flesh is moved roughly, then, on the contrary,smoothly. If this does not satisfy you, the door is open: if itdoes, bear. For the door ought to be open for all occasions; and so wehave no trouble.  What then is the fruit of these opinions? It is that which oughtto he the most noble and the most becoming to those who are reallyeducated, release from perturbation, release from fear, freedom. Forin these matters we must not believe the many, who say that freepersons only ought to be educated, but we should rather believe thephilosophers, who say that the educated only are free. "How isthis?" In this manner. Is freedom anything else than the power ofliving as we choose? "Nothing else." Tell me then, ye men, do you wishto 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 youwish to live in perturbation? "By no means." No one, then, who is in astate of fear or sorrow or perturbation is free; but whoever isdelivered from sorrows and fears and perturbations, he is at thesame time also delivered from servitude. How then can we continue tobelieve you, most dear legislators, when you say, "We only allowfree persons to be educated?" For philosophers say we allow none to befree except the educated; that is, God does not allow it. "When then aman has turned round before the praetor his own slave, has he donenothing?" He has done something. "What?" He has turned round his ownslave before the praetor. "Has he done nothing, more?" Yes: he is alsobound to pay for him the tax called the twentieth. "Well then, isnot the man who has gone through this ceremony become free?" No morethan he is become free from perturbations. Have you who are able toturn round others no master? is not money your master, or a girl ora boy, or some tyrant, or some friend of the tyrant? why do youtremble then when you are going off to any trial of this kind? It isfor this reason that I often say: Study and hold in readiness theseprinciples by which you may determine what those things are withreference to which you ought to have confidence, and those things withreference to which you ought to be cautious: courageous in thatwhich does not depend on your will; cautious in that which does dependon it.  "Well have I not read to you, and do you not know what I was doing?"In what? "In my little dissertations." Show me how you are withrespect to desire and aversion; and show if you do not fail in gettingwhat you wish, me and if you do not fall into the things which youwould avoid: but as to these long and laboured sentences, you willtake them and blot them out.  "What then did not Socrates write?" And who wrote so much? Buthow? As he could not always have at hand one to argue against hisprinciples or to be argued against in turn, he used to argue withand examine himself, and he was always treating at least some onesubject in a practical way. These are the things which a philosopherwrites. But little dissertations and that method, which I speak of, heleaves to others, to the stupid, or to those happy men who beingfree from perturbations have leisure, or to such as are too foolish toreckon consequences.  And will you now, when the opportunity invites, go and display thosethings which you possess, and recite them, and make an idle show,and say, "See how I make dialogues?" Do not so, my man: but rathersay: "See how I am not disappointed of that which I desire. See howI do not fall into that which I would avoid. Set death before me,and you will see. Set before me pain, prison, disgrace andcondemnation." This is the proper display of a young man who is comeout of the schools. But leave the rest to others, and let no oneever hear you say a word about these things; and if any man commendsyou for them, do not allow it; but think that you are nobody andknow nothing. Only show that you know this, how never to bedisappointed in your desire and how never to fall into that whichyou would avoid. Let others labour at forensic causes, problems andsyllogisms: do you labour at thinking about death, chains, the rack,exile; and do all this with confidence and reliance on him who hascalled you to these sufferings, who has judged you worthy of the placein which, being stationed, you will show what things the rationalgoverning power can do when it takes its stand against the forceswhich are not within the power of our will. And thus this paradox willno longer appear either impossible or a paradox, that a man ought tobe at the same time cautious and courageous: courageous toward thethings which do not depend on the will, and cautious in things whichare within the power of the will.  CHAPTER 2  Of Tranquillity  Consider, you who are going into court, what you wish to maintainand what you wish to succeed in. For if you wish to maintain a willconformable to nature, you have every security, every facility, youhave no troubles. For if you wish to maintain what is in your ownpower and is naturally free, and if you are content with these, whatelse do you care for? For who is the master of such things? Who cantake them away? If you choose to be modest and faithful, who shall notallow 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 todesire? who shall compel you to avoid what you do not think fit toavoid? But what do you say? The judge will determine against yousomething that appears formidable; but that you should also sufferin trying to avoid it, how can he do that? When then the pursuit ofobjects and the avoiding of them are in your power, what else do youcare for? Let this be your preface, this your narrative, this yourconfirmation, this your victory, this your peroration, this yourapplause.  Therefore Socrates said to one who was reminding him to preparefor his trial, "Do you not think then that I have been preparing forit all my life?" By what kind of preparation? "I have maintainedthat which was in my own power." How then? "I have never done anythingunjust either in my private or in my public life."  But if you wish to maintain externals also, your poor body, yourlittle property and your little estimation, I advise you to makefrom this moment all possible preparation, and then consider boththe nature of your judge and your adversary. If it is necessary toembrace his knees, embrace his knees; if to weep, weep; if to groan,groan. For when you have subjected to externals what is your own, thenbe a slave and do not resist, and do not sometimes choose to be aslave, and sometimes not choose, but with all your mind be one orthe other, either free or a slave, either instructed oruninstructed, either a well-bred cock or a mean one, either endureto be beaten until you die or yield at once; and let it not happento you to receive many stripes and then to yield. But if thesethings are base, determine immediately: "Where is the nature of eviland 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."  For what do you think? do you think that, if Socrates had wishedto preserve externals, he would have come forward and said: "Anytusand Meletus can certainly kill me, but to harm me they are notable?" Was he so foolish as not to see that this way leads not tothe preservation of life and fortune, but to another end? What isthe reason then that he takes no account of his adversaries, andeven irritates them? Just in the same way my friend Heraclitus, whohad a little suit in Rhodes about a bit of land, and had proved to thejudges that his case was just, said, when he had come to theperoration of his speech, "I will neither entreat you nor do I carewhat wi judgment you will give, and it is you rather than I who are onyour trial." And thus he ended the business. What need was there ofthis? Only do not entreat; but do not also say, "I. do not entreat";unless there is a fit occasion to irritate purposely the judges, aswas the case with Socrates. And you, if you are preparing such aperoration, why do you wait, why do you obey the order to submit totrial? For if you wish to be crucified, wait and the cross willcome: but if you choose to submit and to plead your cause as well asyou can, you must do what is consistent with this object, provided youmaintain what is your own.  For this reason also it is ridiculous to say, "Suggest somethingto me." What should I suggest to you? "Well, form my mind so as toaccommodate itself to any event." Why that is just the same as if aman who is ignorant of letters should say, "Tell me what to write whenany 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 Dionbut that of Theon, what will be done? what will he write? But if youbehave practiced writing, you are also prepared to write anything thatis required. If you are not, what. can I now suggest? For ifcircumstances require something else, what will you say or what willyou do? Remember, then, this general precept and you will need nosuggestion. But if you gape after externals, you must of necessityramble up and down in obedience to the will of your master. And who isthe master? He who has the power over the things which you seek togain or try to avoid.  CHAPTER 3  To those who recommend persons to philosophers  Diogenes said well to one who asked from him letters ofrecommendation, "That you are a man he said, "he will know as soonas he sees you; and he will know whether you are good or bad, if he isby experience skillful to distinguish the good and the bad; but ifhe is without experience, he will never know, if I write to him tenthousand times." For it is just the same as if a drachma asked to berecommended to a person to be tested. If he is skillful in testingsilver, he will know what you are, for you will recommend yourself. Weought then in life also to have some skill as in the case of silvercoin that a man may be able to say, like the judge of silver, "Bringme any drachma and I will test it." But in the case of syllogisms Iwould say, "Bring any man that you please, and I will distinguishfor you the man who knows how to resolve syllogisms and the man whodoes not." Why? Because I know how to resolve syllogisms. I have thepower, which a man must have who is able to discover those who havethe power of resolving syllogisms. But in life how do I act? At onetime I call a thing good, and at another time bad. What is the reason?The contrary to that which is in the case of syllogisms, ignorance andinexperience.  CHAPTER 4  Against a person who had once been detected in adultery  As Epictetus was saying that man is formed for fidelity, and that hewho subverts fidelity subverts the peculiar characteristic of men,there entered one of those who are considered to be men of letters,who had once been detected in adultery in the city. Then Epictetuscontinued: But if we lay aside this fidelity for which we are formedand make designs against our neighbor's wife, what are we are wedoing? What else but destroying and overthrowing? Whom? The man offidelity, the man of modesty, the man of sanctity. Is this all? Andare we not overthrowing neighbourhood, and friendship, and thecommunity; and in what place are we putting ourselves? How shall Iconsider you, man? As a neighbour, as a friend? What kind of one? As acitizen? Wherein shall I trust you? So if you were an utensil soworthless that a man could not use you, you would be pitched out onthe dung heaps, and no man would pick you up. But if, being a man, youare unable to fill any place which befits a man, what shall we do withyou? For suppose that you cannot hold the place of a friend, can youhold the place of a slave? And who will trust you? Are you not thencontent that you also should be pitched somewhere on a dung heap, as auseless utensil, and a bit of dung? Then will you say, "No man,cares for me, a man of letters"? They do not, because you are badand useless. It is just as if the wasps complained because no mancares for them, but all fly from them, and if a man can, he strikesthem and knocks them down. You have such a sting that you throw intotrouble and pain any man that you wound with it. What would you haveus do with you? You have no place where you can be put.  "What then, are not women common by nature?" So I say also; for alittle pig is common to all the invited guests, but when theportions have been distributed, go, if you think it right, andsnatch up the portion of him who reclines next to you, or slylysteal it, or place your hand down by it and lay hold of it, and if youcannot tear away a bit of the meat, grease your fingers and lick them.A fine companion over cups, and Socratic guest indeed! "Well, is notthe theatre common to the citizens?" When then they have taken theirseats, come, if you think proper, and eject one of them. In this waywomen also are common by nature. When, then, the legislator, likethe master of a feast, has distributed them, will you not also lookfor your own portion and not filch and handle what belongs to another."But I am a man of letters and understand Archedemus." UnderstandArchedemus then, and be an adulterer, and faithless, and instead ofa man, be a wolf or an ape: for what is the difference?  CHAPTER 5  How magnanimity is consistent with care  Things themselves are indifferent; but the use of them is notindifferent. How then shall a man preserve firmness andtranquillity, and at the same time be careful and neither rash nornegligent? If he imitates those who play at dice. The counters areindifferent; the dice are indifferent. How do I know what the castwill be? But to use carefully and dexterously the cast of the dice,this is my business. Thus in life also the chief business is this:distinguish and separate things, and say, "Externals are not in mypower: 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 belongto you call nothing either good or bad, or profit or damage oranything of the kind.  "What then? Should we use such things carelessly?" In no way: forthis on the other hand is bad for the faculty of the will, andconsequently against nature; but we should act carefully because theuse is not indifferent and we should also act with firmness andfreedom from perturbations because the material is indifferent. Forwhere the material is not indifferent, there no man can hinder menor compel me. Where I can be hindered and compelled the obtainingof those things is not in my power, nor is it good or bad; but the useis either bad or good, and the use is in my power. But it is difficultto mingle and to bring together these two things, the carefulness ofhim who is affected by the matter and the firmness of him who has noregard for it; but it is not impossible; and if it is, happiness isimpossible. But we should act as we do in the case of a voyage. Whatcan 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? formy part is done. The business belongs to another- the master. Butthe ship is sinking- what then have I to do? I do the only things thatI 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 notan immortal being, but a man, a part of the whole, as an hour is apart of the day: I must be present like the hour, and past like thehour. What difference, then, does it make to me how I pass away,whether by being suffocated or by a fever, for I must pass throughsome such means?  This is just what you will see those doing who play at ballskillfully. No one cares about the ball being good or bad, but aboutthrowing and catching it. In this therefore is the skill, this theart, the quickness, the judgement, so that if I spread out my lap Imay not be able to catch it, and another, if I throw, may catch theball. But if with perturbation and fear we receive or throw theball, what kind of play is it then, and wherein shall a man be steady,and how shall a man see the order in the game? But one will say,"Throw"; or, "Do not throw"; and another will say, "You have thrownonce." This is quarreling, not play.  Socrates, then, knew how to play at ball. How?" By usingpleasantry in the court where he was tried. "Tell me," he says,"Anytus, how do you say that I do not believe in God. The Demons,who are they, think you? Are they not sons of Gods, or compounded ofgods and men?" When Anytus admitted this, Socrates said, "Who then,think you, can believe that there are mules, but not asses"; andthis he said as if he were playing at ball. And what was the ball inthat case? Life, chains, banishment, a draught of poison, separationfrom wife and leaving children orphans. These were the things withwhich he was playing; but still he did play and threw the ballskillfully. So we should do: we must employ all the care of theplayers, but show the same indifference about the ball. For we oughtby all means to apply our art to some external material, not asvaluing the material, but, whatever it may be, showing our art init. Thus too the weaver does not make wool, but exercises his art uponsuch as he receives. Another gives you food and property and is ableto take them away and your poor body also. When then you have receivedthe material, work on it. If then you come out without having sufferedanything, all who meet you will congratulate you on your escape; buthe who knows how to look at such things, if he shall see that you havebehaved properly in the matter, will commend you and be pleased withyou; and if he shall find that you owe your escape to any want ofproper behavior, he will do the contrary. For where rejoicing isreasonable, there also is congratulation reasonable.  How then is it said that some external things are according tonature and others contrary to nature? It is said as it might be saidif we were separated from union: for to the foot I shall say that itis according to nature for it to be clean; but if you take it as afoot and as a thing not detached, it will befit it both to step intothe mud and tread on thorns, and sometimes to be cut off for thebenefit of the whole body; otherwise it is no longer a foot. We shouldthink in some way about ourselves also. What are you? A man. If youconsider yourself as detached from other men, it is according tonature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if youconsider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is forthe sake of that whole that at one time you should be sick, at anothertime take a voyage and run into danger, and at another time be inwant, and, in some cases, die prematurely. Why then are youtroubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no longer a foot if it isdetached from the body, so you are no longer a man if you areseparated from other men. For what is a man? A part of a state, ofthat first which consists of Gods and of men; then of that which iscalled 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 body, in such a universe ofthings, among so many living together, that such things should nothappen, some to one and others to others. It is your duty then,since you are come here, to say what you ought, to arrange thesethings as it is fit. Then some one says, "I shall charge you withdoing me wrong." Much good may it do you: I have done my part; butwhether you also have done yours, you must look to that; for thereis some danger of this too, that it may escape your notice.  CHAPTER 6  Of indifference  The hypothetical proposition is indifferent: the judgment about itis not indifferent, but it is either knowledge or opinion or error.Thus life is indifferent: the use is not indifferent. When any manthen tells you that these things also are indifferent, do not becomenegligent; and when a man invites you to be careful, do not becomeabject and struck with admiration of material things. And it is goodfor you to know your own preparation and power, that in thosematters where you have not been prepared, you may keep quiet, andnot be vexed, if others have the advantage over you. For you, too,in syllogisms will claim to have the advantage over them; and ifothers should be vexed at this, you will console them by saying, "Ihave learned them, and you have not." Thus also where there is need ofany practice, seek not that which is required from the need, but yieldin that matter to those who have had practice, and be yourself contentwith firmness of mind.  Go and salute a certain person. "How?" Not meanly. "But I havebeen shut out, for I have not learned to make my way through thewindow; and when I have found the door shut, I must either come backor enter through the window." But still speak to him. "In what way?"Not meanly. But suppose that you have not got what you wanted. Wasthis your business, and not his? Why then do you claim that whichbelongs to another? Always remember what is your own, and what belongsto another; and you will not be disturbed. Chrysippus therefore saidwell, "So long as future things are uncertain, I always cling to thosewhich are more adapted to the conservation of that which isaccording to nature; for God himself has given me the faculty ofsuch choice." But if I knew that it was fated for me to be sick, Iwould even move toward it; for the foot also, if it hadintelligence, would move to go into the mud. For why are ears ofcorn produced? Is it not that they may become dry? And do they notbecome dry that they may be reaped? for they are not separated fromcommunion with other things. If then they had perception, ought theyto wish never to be reaped? But this is a curse upon ears of corn,never to be reaped. So we must know that in the case of men too itis a curse not to die, just the same as not to be ripened and not tobe reaped. But since we must be reaped, and we also know that we arereaped, we are vexed at it; for we neither know what we are nor havewe studied what belongs to man, as those who have studied horsesknow what belongs to horses. But Chrysantas, when he was going tostrike the enemy, checked himself when he heard the trumpet sounding aretreat: so it seemed better to him to obey the general's command thanto follow his own inclination. But not one of us chooses, even whennecessity summons, readily to obey it, but weeping and groaning wesuffer what we do suffer, and we call them "circumstances." Whatkind of circumstances, man? If you give the name of circumstances tothe things which are around you, all things are circumstances; butif you call hardships by this name, what hardship is there in thedying of that which has been produced? But that which destroys iseither a sword, or a wheel, or the sea, or a tile, or a tyrant. Why doyou care about the way of going down to Hades? All ways are equal. Butif you will listen to the truth, the way which the tyrant sends you isshorter. A tyrant never killed a man in six months: but a fever isoften a year about it. All these things are only sound and the noiseof empty names.  "I am in danger of my life from Caesar." And am not I in dangerwho dwell in Nicopolis, where there are so many earthquakes: andwhen you are crossing the Hadriatic, what hazard do you run? Is it notthe hazard of your life? "But I am in danger also as to opinion." Doyou mean your own? how? For who can compel you to have any opinionwhich you do not choose? But is it as to another man's opinion? andwhat kind of danger is yours, if others have false opinions? "But I amin danger of being banished." What is it to be banished? To besomewhere else than at Rome? "Yes: what then if I should be sent toGyara?" If that suits you, you will go there; but if it does not,you can go to another place instead of Gyara, whither he also will go,who sends you to Gyara, whether he choose or not. Why then do you goup to Rome as if it were something great? It is not worth all thispreparation, that an ingenuous youth should say, "It was not worthwhile to have heard so much and to have written so much and to havesat so long by the side of an old man who is not worth much." Onlyremember that division by which your own and not your own aredistinguished: never claim anything which belongs to others. Atribunal and a prison are each a place, one high and the other low;but the will can be maintained equal, if you choose to maintain itequal in each. And we shall then be imitators of Socrates, when we areable to write paeans in prison. But in our present disposition,consider if we could endure in prison another person saying to us."Would you like me to read Paeans to you?" "Why do you trouble me?do you not know the evils which hold me? Can I in such circumstances?"What circumstances? "I am going to die." And will other men beimmortal?  CHAPTER 7  How we ought to use divination  Through an unreasonable regard to divination many of us omit manyduties. For what more can the diviner see than death or danger ordisease, generally things of that kind? If then I must expose myselfto danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, whatneed have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner whohas told me the nature of good and of evil, and has explained to methe signs of both? What need have I then to consult the viscera ofvictims 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 theviscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil? For if heknows the signs of these, he knows the signs both of the beautiful andof 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 orwhether they are not, I do not intend to ask you. Why don't you giveyour opinion on matters of grammar, and why do you give it hereabout things on which we are all in error and disputing with oneanother? The woman, therefore, who intended to send by a vessel amonth's provisions to Gratilla in her banishment, made a good answerto him who said that Domitian would seize what she sent. "I wouldrather," she replied, "that Domitian should seize all than that Ishould not send it."  What then leads us to frequent use of divination? Cowardice, thedread of what will happen. This is the reason why we flatter thediviners. "Pray, master, shall I succeed to the property of myfather?" "Let us see: let us sacrifice on the occasion." "Yes, master,as fortune chooses." When he has said, "You shall succeed to theinheritance," we thank him as if we received the inheritance from him.The consequence is that they play upon us.  What then should we do? We ought to come without desire or aversion,as the wayfarer asks of the man whom he meets which of two roads leads(to his journey's end), without any desire for that which leads to theright rather than to the left, for he has no wish to go by any roadexcept the road which leads (to his end). In the same way ought weto come to God also as a guide; as we use our eyes, not asking them toshow us rather such things as we wish, but receiving the appearancesof things such as the eyes present them to us. But now we tremblingtake the augur by the hand, and, while we invoke God, we entreat theaugur, and say, "Master have mercy on me; suffer me to come safe outof this difficulty." Wretch would you have, then, anything otherthan what is best? Is there then anything better than what pleasesGod? Why do you, so far as in your power, corrupt your judge andlead astray your adviser?  CHAPTER 8  What is the nature of the good  God is beneficial. But the Good also is beneficial. It is consistentthen that where the nature of God is, there also the nature of thegood should be. What then is the nature of God? Flesh? Certainlynot. An estate in land? By no means. Fame? No. Is it intelligence,knowledge, right reason? Yes. Herein then simply seek the nature ofthe good; for I suppose that you do not seek it in a plant. No. Do youseek it in an irrational animal? No. If then you seek it in a rationalanimal, why do you still seek it anywhere except in the superiority ofrational over irrational animals? Now plants have not even the powerof using appearances, and for this reason you do not apply the termgood to them. The good then requires the use of appearances. Does itrequire this use only? For if you say that it requires this useonly, say that the good, and that happiness and unhappiness are inirrational animals also. But you do not say this, and you do right;for if they possess even in the highest degree the use of appearances,yet they have not the faculty of understanding the use of appearances;and there is good reason for this, for they exist for the purpose ofserving others, and they exercise no superiority. For the ass, Isuppose, does not exist for any superiority over others. No; butbecause we had need of a back which is able to bear something; andin truth we had need also of his being able to walk, and for thisreason he received also the faculty of making use of appearances,for otherwise he would not have been able to walk. And here thenthe matter stopped. For if he had also received the faculty ofcomprehending the use of appearances, it is plain that consistentlywith reason he would not then have been subjected to us, nor wouldhe have done us these services, but he would have been equal to us andlike to us.  Will you not then seek the nature of good in the rational animal?for if it is not there, you not choose to say that it exists in anyother thing. "What then? are not plants and animals also the worksof God?" They are; but they are not superior things, nor yet partsof the Gods. But you are a superior thing; you are a portion separatedfrom the deity; you have in yourself a certain portion of him. Whythen are you ignorant of your own noble descent? Why do you not knowwhence you came? will you not remember when you are eating, who youare who eat and whom you feed? When you are in conjunction with awoman, will you not remember who you are who do this thing? When youare in social intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, whenyou are engaged in discussion, know you not that you are nourishinga god, that you are exercising a god? Wretch, you are carrying about agod with you, and you know it not. Do you think that I mean some Godof silver or of gold, and external? You carry him within yourself, andyou perceive not that you are polluting him by impure thoughts anddirty deeds. And if an image of God were present, you would not dareto do any of the things which you are doing: but when God himself ispresent within and sees all and hears all, you are not ashamed ofthinking such things and doing such things, ignorant as you are ofyour own nature and subject to the anger of God. Then why do we fearwhen we are sending a young man from the school into active life, lesthe should do anything improperly, eat improperly, have improperintercourse with women; and lest the rags in which he is wrappedshould debase him, lest fine garments should make him proud? Thisyouth does not know his own God: he knows not with whom he sets out.But can we endure when he says, "I wish I had you with me." Have younot God with you? and do you seek for any other, when you have him? orwill God tell you anything else than this? If you were a statue ofPhidias, either Athena or Zeus you would think broth of yourself andof the artist, and if you had any understanding you would try to donothing unworthy of him who made you or of yourself, and try not toappear in an unbecoming dress to those who look on you. But nowbecause Zeus has made you, for this reason do you care not how youshall appear? And yet is the artist like the artist in the other? orthe 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 inmaking it? Is it not marble or bronze, or gold or ivory? and theAthena of Phidias when she has once extended the hand and receivedin it the figure of Victory stands in that attitude forever. But theworks of God have power of motion, they breathe, they have the facultyof using the appearances of things, and the power of examining them.Being the work of such an artist, do you dishonor him? And whatshall I say, not only that he made you, but also intrusted you toyourself and made you a deposit to yourself? Will you not think ofthis too, but do you also dishonor your guardianship? But if God hadintrusted an orphan to you, would you thus neglect him? He hasdelivered yourself to your care, and says, "I had no one fitter tointrust him to than yourself: keep him for me such as he is by nature,modest, faithful, erect, unterrified, free from passion andperturbation." And then you do not keep him such.  But some will say, "Whence has this fellow got the arrogance whichhe displays and these supercilious looks?" I have not yet so muchgravity as befits a philosopher; for I do not yet feel confidence inwhat I have learned and what I have assented to: I still fear my ownweakness. Let me get confidence and the, you shall see a countenancesuch 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 ispolished. What do you expect? a supercilious countenance? Does theZeus at Olympia lift up his brow? No, his look is fixed as becomes himwho is ready to say     Irrevocable is my word and shall not fail.Such will I show myself to you, faithful, modest, noble, free fromperturbation. "What, and immortal too, exempt from old age, and fromsickness?" 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 of a philosopher. "What nervesare these?" A desire never disappointed, an aversion which never fallson that which it would avoid, a proper pursuit, a diligent purpose, anassent which is not rash. These you shall see.  CHAPTER 9  That when we cannot fulfill that which the character of a manpromises, we assume the character of a philosopher  It is no common thing to do this only, to fulfill the promise of aman's nature. For what is a man? The answer is: "A rational and mortalbeing." 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, youhave 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 casethe man is lost. What then do we do as sheep? When we actgluttonously, when we act lewdly, when we act rashly, filthily,inconsiderately, to what have we declined? To sheep. What have welost? The rational faculty. When we act contentiously and harmfullyand passionately, and violently, to what have we declined? To wildbeasts. Consequently some of us are great wild beasts, and otherslittle beasts, of a bad disposition and small, whence we may say, "Letme be eaten by a lion." But in all these ways the promise of a manacting as a man is destroyed. For when is a conjunctive propositionmaintained? When it fulfills what its nature promises; so that thepreservation of a complex proposition is when it is a conjunction oftruths. When is a disjunctive maintained? When it fulfills what itpromises. When are flutes, a lyre, a horse, a dog, preserved? Whatis the wonder then if man also in like manner is preserved, and inlike manner is lost? Each man is improved and preserved bycorresponding acts, the carpenter by acts of carpentry, the grammarianby acts of grammar. But if a man accustoms himself to writeungrammatically, of necessity his art will be corrupted and destroyed.Thus modest actions preserve the modest man, and immodest actionsdestroy him: and actions of fidelity preserve the faithful man, andthe contrary actions destroy him. And on the other hand contraryactions strengthen contrary characters: shamelessness strengthensthe shameless man, faithlessness the faithless man, abusive wordsthe abusive man, anger the man of an angry temper, and unequalreceiving and giving make the avaricious man more avaricious.  For this reason philosophers admonish us not to be satisfied withlearning only, but also to add study, and then practice. For we havelong been accustomed to do contrary things, and we put in practiceopinions which are contrary to true opinions. If then we shall notalso put in practice right opinions, we shall be nothing more than theexpositors of the opinions of others. For now who among us is not ableto discuss according to the rules of art about good and evil things?"That of things some are good, and some are bad, and some areindifferent: the good then are virtues, and the things whichparticipate in virtues; and the are the contrary; and theindifferent are wealth, health, reputation." Then, if in the midstof our talk there should happen some greater noise than usual, or someof those who are present should laugh at us, we are disturbed.Philosopher, where are the things which you were talking about? Whencedid you produce and utter them? From the lips, and thence only. Whythen do you corrupt the aids provided by others? Why do you treatthe weightiest matters as if you were playing a game of dice? For itis one thing to lay up bread and wine as in a storehouse, andanother thing to eat. That which has been eaten, is digested,distributed, and is become sinews, flesh, bones, blood, healthycolour, healthy breath. Whatever is stored up, when you choose you canreadily take and show it; but you have no other advantage from itexcept so far as to appear to possess it. For what is the differencebetween explaining these doctrines and those of men who have differentopinions? Sit down now and explain according to the rules of art theopinions of Epicurus, and perhaps you will explain his opinions in amore useful manner than Epicurus himself. Why then do you callyourself a Stoic? Why do you deceive the many? Why do you deceivethe many? Why do you act the part of a Jew, when you are a Greek? Doyou not see how each is called a Jew, or a Syrian or an Egyptian?and when we see a man inclining to two sides, we are accustomed tosay, "This man is not a Jew, but he acts as one." But when he hasassumed the affects of one who has been imbued with Jewish doctrineand has adopted that sect, then he is in fact and he is named a Jew.Thus we too being falsely imbued, are in name Jews, but in fact we aresomething else. Our affects are inconsistent with our words; we arefar from practicing what we say, and that of which we are proud, as ifwe knew it. Thus being, unable to fulfill even what the character of aman promises, we even add to it the profession of a philosopher, whichis as heavy a burden, as if a man who is unable to bear ten poundsshould attempt to raise the stone which Ajax lifted.  CHAPTER 10  How we may discover the duties of life from names  Consider who you are. In the first place, you are a man; and this isone who has nothing superior to the faculty of the will, but all otherthings subjected to it; and the faculty itself he possesses unenslavedand free from subjection. Consider then from what things you have beenseparated by reason. You have been separated from wild beasts: youhave been separated from domestic animals. Further, you are acitizen of the world, and a part of it, not one of the subservient,but one of the principal parts, for you are capable of comprehendingthe divine administration and of considering the connection of things.What then does the character of a citizen promise? To hold nothingas profitable to himself; to deliberate about nothing as if he weredetached from the community, but to act as the hand or foot woulddo, 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 philosopherssay well, that if the good man had foreknowledge of what would happen,he would cooperate toward his own sickness and death and mutilation,since he knows that these things are assigned to him according tothe universal arrangement, and that the whole is superior to thepart and the state to the citizen. But now, because we do not know thefuture, it is our duty to stick to the things which are in theirnature more suitable for our choice, for we were made among otherthings for this.  After this, remember that you are a son. What does this characterpromise? To consider that everything which is the son's belongs to thefather, 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 inall things and give way, cooperating with him as far as you can. Afterthis know that you are a brother also, and that to this character itis due to make concessions; to be easily persuaded, to speak good ofyour brother, never to claim in opposition to him any of the thingswhich are independent of the will, but readily to give them up, thatyou may have the larger share in what is dependent on the will. Forsee 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 greatis the advantage.  Next to this, if you are senator of any state, remember that you area senator: if a youth, that you are a youth: if an old man, that youare 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, Isay to you, "You have forgotten who you are and what is your name." Inthe next place, if you were a smith and made a wrong use of thehammer, you would have forgotten the smith; and if you haveforgotten the brother and instead of a brother have become an enemy,would you appear not to have changed one thing for another in thatcase? And if instead of a man, who is a tame animal and social, youare become a mischievous wild beast, treacherous, and biting, have youlost nothing? But, you must lose a bit of money that you may sufferdamage? And does the loss of nothing else do a man damage? If youhad lost the art of grammar or music, would you think the loss of it adamage? and if you shall lose modesty, moderation and gentleness, doyou think the loss nothing? And yet the things first mentioned arelost by some cause external and independent of the will, and thesecond by our own fault; and as to the first neither to have themnor to lose them is shameful; but as to the second, not to have themand to lose them is shameful and matter of reproach and amisfortune. What does the pathic lose? He loses the man. What doeshe lose who makes the pathic what he is? Many other things; and healso loses the man no less than the other. What does he lose whocommits adultery? He loses the modest, the temperate, the decent,the citizen, the neighbour. What does he lose who is angry?Something else. What does the coward lose? Something else. No man isbad without suffering some loss and damage. If then you look for thedamage in the loss of money only, all these men receive no harm ordamage; it may be, they have even profit and gain, when they acquire abit of money by any of these deeds. But consider that if you refereverything to a small coin, not even he who loses his nose is inyour opinion damaged. "Yes," you say, "for he is mutilated in hisbody." Well; but does he who has lost his smell only lose nothing?Is there, then, no energy of the soul which is an advantage to him whopossesses it, and a damage to him who has lost it? "Tell me whatsort you mean." Have we not a natural modesty? "We have." Does hewho loses this sustain no damage? is he deprived of nothing, does hepart with nothing of the things which belong to him? Have we notnaturally fidelity? natural affection, a natural disposition to helpothers, a natural disposition to forbearance? The man then whoallows himself to be damaged in these matters, can he be free fromharm and uninjured? "What then? shall I not hurt him, who has hurtme?" In the first place consider what hurt is, and remember what youhave heard from the philosophers. For if the good consists in thewill, and the evil also in the will, see if what you say is notthis: "What then, since that man has hurt himself by doing an unjustact to me, shall I not hurt myself by doing some unjust act to him?"Why do we not imagine to something of this kind? But where there isany detriment to the body or to our possession, there is harm there;and where the same thing happens to the faculty of the will, thereis no harm; for he who has been deceived or he who has done anunjust act neither suffers in the head nor in the eye nor in thehip, nor does he lose his estate; and we wish for nothing else thanthese things. But whether we shall have the will modest and faithfulor shameless and faithless, we care not the least, except only inthe school so far as a few words are concerned. Therefore ourproficiency is limited to these few words; but beyond them it does notexist even in the slightest degree.  CHAPTER 11  What the beginning of philosophy is  The beginning of philosophy to him at least who enters on it inthe right way and by the door, is a consciousness of his ownweakness and inability about necessary things. For we come into theworld with no natural notion of a right-angled triangle, or of adiesis, or of a half tone; but we learn each of these things by acertain transmission according to art; and for this reason those whodo not know them, do not think that they know them. But as to good andevil, and beautiful and ugly, and becoming and unbecoming, andhappiness and misfortune, and proper and improper, and what we oughtto do and what we ought not to do, whoever came into the world withouthaving an innate idea of them? Wherefore we all use these names, andwe endeavor to fit the preconceptions to the several cases thus: "Hehas done well, he has not done well; he has done as he ought, not ashe ought; he has been unfortunate, he has been fortunate; he isunjust, he is just": who does not use these names? who among us defersthe use of them till he has learned them, as he defers the use ofthe words about lines or sounds? And the cause of this is that we comeinto the world already taught as it were by nature some things on thismatter, and proceeding from these we have added to themself-conceit. "For why," a man says, "do I not know the beautifuland the ugly? Have I not the notion of it?" You have. "Do I notadapt 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 thatwhich is matter of dispute by means of unsuitable adaptation; for ifthey possessed this power of adaptation in addition to those things,what would hinder them from being perfect? But now since you thinkthat you properly adapt the preconceptions to the particulars, tell mewhence you derive this. Because I think so. But it does not seem so toanother, and he thinks that he also makes a proper adaptation; or doeshe not think so? He does think so. Is it possible then that both ofyou can properly apply the preconceptions to things about which youhave contrary opinions? It is not possible. Can you then show usanything better toward adapting the preconceptions beyond yourthinking that you do? Does the madman do any other things than thethings as in which seem to him right? Is then this criterion for himalso? It is not sufficient. Come then to something which is superiorto seeming. What is this?  Observe, this is the beginning of philosophy, a perception of thedisagreement of men with one another, and an inquiry into the cause ofthe disagreement, and a condemnation and distrust of that which only"seems," and a certain investigation of that which "seems" whetherit "seems" rightly, and a discovery of some rule, as we havediscovered a balance in the determination of weights, and acarpenter's rule in the case of straight and crooked things. This isthe beginning of philosophy. "Must we say that all thins are rightwhich seem so to all?" And how is it possible that contradictionscan 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 morethan what seem right to the Egyptians? why more than what seemsright 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 or measures are we satisfied withthe bare appearance, but in each case we have discovered a certainrule. In this matter then is there no rule certain to what "seems?"And how is it possible that the most necessary things among men shouldhave no sign, and be incapable of being discovered? There is then somerule. And why then do we not seek the rule and discover it, andafterward use it without varying from it, not even stretching outthe finger without it? For this, I think, is that which when it isdiscovered cures of their madness those who use mere "seeming" as ameasure, and misuse it; so that for the future proceeding from certainthings known and made clear we may use in the case of particularthings the preconceptions which are distinctly fixed.  What is the matter presented to us about which we are inquiring?"Pleasure." Subject it to the rule, throw it into the balance. Oughtthe good to be such a thing that it is fit that we have confidencein it? "Yes." And in which we ought to confide? "It ought to be." Isit fit to trust to anything which is insecure? "No." Is thenpleasure anything secure? "No." Take it then and throw it out of thescale, and drive it far away from the place of good things. But if youare not sharp-sighted, and one balance is not enough for you, bringanother. Is it fit to be elated over what is good? "Yes." Is it properthen to be elated over present pleasure? See that you do not saythat it is proper; but if you do, I shall then not think you areworthy even of the balance. Thus things are tested and weighed whenthe rules are ready. And to philosophize is this, to examine andconfirm the rules; and then to use them when they are known is the actof a wise and good man.  CHAPTER 12  Of disputation or discussion  What things a man must learn in order to be able to apply the art ofdisputation, has been accurately shown by our philosophers; but withrespect to the proper use of the things, we are entirely withoutpractice. Only give to any of us, whom you please, an illiterate manto discuss with,, and he cannot discover how to deal with the man. Butwhen he has moved the man a little, if he answers beside thepurpose, he does not know how to treat him, but he then eitherabuses or ridicules him, and says, "He is an illiterate man; it is notpossible to do anything with him." Now a guide, when he has found aman out of the road leads him into the right way: he does not ridiculeor abuse him and then leave him. Do you also show this illiterateman the truth, and you will see that he follows. But so long as you donot show him the truth, do not ridicule him, but rather feel yourown incapacity.  How then did Socrates act? He used to compel his adversary indisputation to bear testimony to him, and he wanted no otherwitness. Therefore he could say, "I care not for other witnesses,but I am always satisfied with the evidence of my adversary, and Ido not ask the opinion of others, but only the opinion of him who isdisputing with me." For he used to make the conclusions drawn fromnatural notions so plain that every man saw the contradiction andwithdrew from it: "Does the envious man rejoice?" "By no means, but heis rather pained." Well, "Do you think that envy is pain over evils?and what envy is there of evils?" Therefore he made his adversarysay that envy is pain over good things. "Well then, would any man envythose who are nothing to him?" "By no means." Thus having completedthe notion and distinctly fixed it he would go away without sayingto his adversary, "Define to me envy"; and if the adversary haddefined envy, he did not say, "You have defined it badly, for theterms of the definition do not correspond to the thing defined." Theseare technical terms, and for this reason disagreeable and hardlyintelligible to illiterate men, which terms we cannot lay aside. Butthat the illiterate man himself, who follows the appearances presentedto him, should be able to concede anything or reject it, we cannever by the use of these terms move him to do. Accordingly, beingconscious of our own inability, we do not attempt the thing; atleast such of us as have any caution do not. But the greater partand the rash, when they enter into such disputations, confusethemselves and confuse others; and finally abusing their adversariesand abused by them, they walk away.  Now this was the first and chief peculiarity of Socrates, never tobe irritated in argument, never to utter anything abusive, anythinginsulting, but to bear with abusive persons and to put an end to thequarrel. If you would know what great power he had in this way, readthe Symposium of Xenophon, and you will see how many quarrels he putan end to. Hence with good reason in the poets also this power is mosthighly praised,     Quickly with the skill he settles great disputes.  Well then; the matter is not now very safe, and particularly atRome; for he who attempts to do it, must not do it in a corner, youmay be sure, but must go to a man of consular rank, if it so happen,or to a rich man, and ask him, "Can you tell me, Sir, to whose careyou have entrusted your horses?" "I can tell you." Here youentrusted them to a person indifferently and to one who has noexperience of horses? "By no means." Well then; can you tell me towhom you entrust your gold or silver things or your vestments? "Idon't entrust even these to anyone indifferently." Well; your ownbody, have you already considered about entrusting the care of it toany person? "Certainly." To a man of experience, I suppose, and oneacquainted with the aliptic, or with the healing art? "Without adoubt." Are these the best things that you have, or do you alsopossess something else which is better than all these? "What kind ofthing do you mean?" That I mean which makes use of these things, andtests each of these things and deliberates. "Is it the soul that youmean?" You think right, for it is the soul that I mean. "In truth I dothink the soul is a much better thing than all the others which Ipossess." Can you then show us in what way you have taken care ofthe soul? for it is not likely that you, who are so wise a man andhave a reputation in the city, inconsiderately and carelessly allowthe most valuable thing that you possess to be neglected and toperish? "Certainly not." But have you taken care of the soul yourself;and have you learned from another to do this, or have you discoveredthe means yourself? Here comes the danger that in the first place hemay say, "What is this to you, my good man, who are you?" Next, if youpersist in troubling him, there is a danger that he may raise hishands and give you blows. I was once myself also an admirer of thismode of instruction until I fell into these dangers.  CHAPTER 13  On anxiety  When I see a man anxious, I say, "What does this man want? If he didnot want something which is not in his power, how could he beanxious?" For this reason a lute player when he is singing byhimself has no anxiety, but when he enters the theatre, he isanxious even if he has a good voice and plays well on the lute; for henot only wishes to sing well, but also to obtain applause: but this isnot in his power. Accordingly, where he has skill, there he hasconfidence. Bring any single person who knows nothing of music, andthe musician does not care for him. But in the matter where a manknows nothing and has not been practiced, there he is anxious. Whatmatter is this? He knows not what a crowd is or what the praise of acrowd is. However he has learned to strike the lowest chord and thehighest; but what the praise of the many is, and what power it hasin life he neither knows nor has he thought about it. Hence he must ofnecessity tremble and grow pale. I cannot then say that a man is not alute player when I see him afraid, but I can say something else, andnot one thing, but many. And first of all I call him a stranger andsay, "This man does not know in what part of the world he is, butthough he has been here so long, he is ignorant of the laws of theState and the customs, and what is permitted and what is not; and hehas never employed any lawyer to tell him and to explain the laws."But a man does not write a will, if he does not does not know how itought to be written, or he employs a person who does know; nor does herashly seal a bond or write a security. But he uses his desire withouta lawyer's advice, and aversion, and pursuit, and attempt and purpose."How do you mean without a lawyer?" He does not know that he willswhat is not allowed, and does not will that which is of necessity; andhe does not know either what is his own or what is or what isanother man's; but if he did know, he could never be impeded, he wouldnever be hindered, he would not be anxious. "How so?" Is any manthen afraid about things which are not evil? "No." Is he afraidabout things which are evils, but still so far within his power thatthey may not happen? "Certainly he is not." If, then, the things whichare independent of the will are neither good nor bad, and all thingswhich do depend on the will are within our power, and no man caneither 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 poorbody, our little property, about the will of Caesar; but not anxiousabout things internal. Are we anxious about not forming a falseopinion? No, for this is in my power. About not exerting our movementscontrary to nature? No, not even about this. When then you see a manpale, as the physician says, judging from the complexion, this man'sspleen is disordered, that man's liver; so also say, this man's desireand aversion are disordered, he is not in the right way, he is in afever. For nothing else changes the color, or causes trembling orchattering of the teeth, or causes a man to     Sink in his knees and shift from foot to foot.  For this reason when Zeno was going to meet Antigonus, he was notanxious, for Antigonus had no power over any of the things whichZeno admired; and Zeno did not care for those things over whichAntigonus had power. But Antigonus was anxious when he was going tomeet Zeno, for he wished to please Zeno; but this was a thingexternal. But Zeno did not want to please Antigonus; for no man who isskilled in any art wishes to please one who has no such skill.  Should I try to please you? Why? I suppose, you know the measureby which one man is estimated by another. Have you taken pains tolearn what is a good man and what is a bad man, and how a manbecomes one or the other? Why, then, are you not good yourself? "How,"he replies, "am I not good?" Because no good man laments or roans orweeps, no good man is pale and trembles, or says, "How will he receiveme, how will he listen to me?" Slave, just as it pleases him. Why doyou care about what belongs to others? Is it now his fault if hereceives badly what proceeds from you? "Certainly." And is it possiblethat a fault should be one man's, and the evil in another? "No." Whythen are you anxious about that which belongs to others? "Yourquestion 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 maybe disconcerted?" If you are going to write the name of Dion, areyou afraid that you would be disconcerted? "By no means." Why? is itnot because you have practiced writing the name? "Certainly." Well, ifyou were going to read the name, would you not feel the same? and why?Because every art has a certain strength and confidence in thethings which belong to it. Have you then not practiced speaking? andwhat else did you learn in the school? Syllogisms and sophisticalpropositions? For what purpose? was it not for the purpose ofdiscoursing skillfully? and is not discoursing skillfully the sameas discoursing seasonably and cautiously and with intelligence, andalso without making mistakes and without hindrance, and besides allthis with confidence? "Yes." When, then, you are mounted on a horseand go into a plain, are you anxious at being matched against a manwho is on foot, and anxious in a matter in which you are practiced,and he is not? "Yes, but that person has power to kill me." Speakthe truth then, unhappy man, and do not brag, nor claim to be aphilosopher, nor refuse to acknowledge your masters, but so long asyou present this handle in your body, follow every man who is strongerthan yourself. Socrates used to practice speaking, he who talked as hedid to the tyrants, to the dicasts, he who talked in his prison.Diogenes had practiced speaking, he who spoke as he did toAlexander, to the pirates, to the person who bought him. These menwere confident in the things which they practiced. But do you walk offto 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 youthe man who can rule a state.  CHAPTER 14  To Naso  When a certain Roman entered with his son and listened to onereading, Epictetus said, "This is the method of instruction"; and hestopped. When the Roman asked him to go on, Epictetus said: Every art,when it is taught, causes labour to him who is unacquainted with itand is unskilled in it, and indeed the things which proceed from thearts immediately show their use in the purpose for which they weremade; and most of them contain something attractive and pleasing.For indeed to be present and to observe how a shoemaker learns isnot a pleasant thing; but the shoe is useful and also not disagreeableto look at. And the discipline of a smith when he is learning isvery disagreeable to one who chances to be present and is a strangerto the art: but the work shows the use of the art. But you will seethis much more in music; for if you are present while a person islearning, the discipline will appear most disagreeable; and yet theresults of music are pleasing and delightful to those who know nothingof music. And here we conceive the work of a philosopher to besomething of this kind: he must adapt his wish to what is going on, sothat neither any of the things which are taking place shall take placecontrary to our wish, nor any of the things which do not take placeshall not take place when we wish that they should. From this theresult is to those who have so arranged the work of philosophy, not tofall in the desire, nor to fall in with that which they would avoid;without uneasiness, without fear, without perturbation to pass throughlife themselves, together with their associates maintaining therelations both natural and acquired, as the relation of son, offather, of brother, of citizen, of man, of wife, of neighbour, offellow-traveler, of ruler, of ruled. The work of a philosopher weconceive to be something like this. It remains next to inquire howthis must be accomplished.  We see then that the carpenter when he has learned certain thingsbecomes a carpenter; the pilot by learning certain things becomes apilot. May it not, then, in philosophy also not be sufficient towish to be wise and good, and that there is also a necessity tolearn certain things? We inquire then what these things are. Thephilosophers say that we ought first to learn that there is a Godand that he provides for all things; also that it is not possible toconceal from him our acts, or even our intentions and thoughts. Thenext thing, is to learn what is the nature of the Gods; for such asthey are discovered to be, he, who would please and obey them, musttry with all his power to be like them. If the divine is faithful, manalso must be faithful; if it is free, man also must be free; ifbeneficent, man also must be beneficent; if magnanimous, man also mustbe magnanimous; as being, then an imitator of God, he must do andsay everything consistently with this fact.  "With what then must we begin?" If you will enter on the discussion,I will tell you that you must first understand names. "So, then, yousay that I do not now understand names?" You do not understand them."How, then, do I use them?" Just as the illiterate use writtenlanguage, as cattle use appearances: for use is one thing,understanding is another. But if you think that you understand them,produce whatever word you please, and let us try whether we understandit. But it is a disagreeable thing for a man to be confuted who is nowold and, it may be, has now served his three campaigns. I too knowthis: for now you are come to me as if you were in want of nothing:and what could you even imagine to be wanting to you? You are rich,you have children, and a wife, perhaps and many slaves: Caesar knowsyou, in Rome you have many friends, you render their dues to all,you know how to requite him who does you a favour, and to repay in thesame kind him who does a wrong. What do you lack? If, then, I shallshow you that you lack the things most necessary and the chiefthings for happiness, and that hitherto you have looked aftereverything rather than what you ought, and, to crown all, that youneither know what God is nor what man is, nor what is good nor what isbad; and as to what I have said about your ignorance of other matters,that may perhaps be endured, but if I say that you know nothingabout yourself, how is it possible that you should endure me andbear the proof and stay here? It is not possible; but youimmediately go off in bad humour. And yet what harm have I done you?unless the mirror also injures the ugly man because it shows him tohimself such as he is; unless the physician also is supposed to insultthe sick man, when he says to him, "Man, do you think that you ailnothing? But you have a fever: go without food to-day; drink water."And no one says, "What an insult!" But if you say to a man, "Yourdesires are inflamed, your aversions are low, your intentions areinconsistent, your pursuits are not comfortable to nature, youropinions are rash and false," the man immediately goes away andsays, "he has insulted me."  Our way of dealing is like that of a crowded assembly. Beasts arebrought to be sold and oxen; and the greater part of the men come tobuy and sell, and there are some few who come to look at the marketand to inquire how it is carried on, and why, and who fixes themeeting and for what purpose. So it is here also in this assembly:some like cattle trouble themselves about nothing except their fodder.For to all of you who are busy about possessions and lands andslaves and magisterial offices, these are nothing except fodder. Butthere are a few who attend the assembly, men who love to look on andconsider what is the world, who governs it. Has it no governor? Andhow is it possible that a city or a family cannot continue to exist,not even the shortest time without an administrator and guardian,and that so great and beautiful a system should be administered withsuch order and yet without a purpose and by chance? There is then anadministrator. What kind of administrator and how does he govern?And who are we, who were produced by him, and for what purpose? Havewe some connection with him and some relation toward him, or none?This is the way in which these few are affected, and then they applythemselves only to this one thing, to examine the meeting and thento go away. What then? They are ridiculed by the many, as thespectators at the fair are by the traders; and if the beasts had anyunderstanding, they would ridicule those who admired anything elsethan fodder.  CHAPTER 15  To or against those who obstinately persist in what they havedetermined  When some persons have heard these words, that a man ought to beconstant, and that the will is naturally free and not subject tocompulsion, but that all other things are subject to hindrance, toslavery, and are in the power of others, they suppose that theyought without deviation to abide by everything which they havedetermined. But in the first place that which has been determinedought to be sound. I require tone in the body, but such as exists in ahealthy body, in an athletic body; but if it is plain to me that youhave the tone of a frenzied man and you boast of it, I shall say toyou, "Man, seek the physician": this is not tone, but atony. In adifferent way something of the same kind is felt by those who listento these discourses in a wrong manner; which was the case with oneof my companions who for no reason resolved to starve himself todeath. I heard of it when it was the third day of his abstinencefrom food and I went to inquire what had happened. "I haveresolved," he said. But still tell me what it was which induced you toresolve; for if you have resolved rightly, we shall sit with you andassist you to depart; but if you have made an unreasonable resolution,change your mind. "We ought to keep to our determinations." What areyou doing, man? We ought to keep not to all our determinations, but tothose which are right; for if you are now persuaded that it isright, do not change your mind, if you think fit, but persist and say,"We ought to abide by our determinations." Will you not make thebeginning and lay the foundation in an inquiry whether thedetermination is sound or not sound, and so then build on itfirmness and security? But if you lay a rotten and ruinous foundation,will not your miserable little building fall down the sooner, the moreand 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 isa friend, and a companion, a citizen of the same city, both thegreat and the small city? Then, while you are committing murder anddestroying a man who has done no wrong, do you say that you ought toabide by your determinations? And if it ever in any way came into yourhead to kill me, ought you to abide by your determinations?  Now this man was with difficulty persuaded to change his mind. Butit is impossible to convince some persons at present; so that I seemnow to know, what I did not know, before, the meaning of the commonsaying, "That you can neither persuade nor break a fool." May it neverbe my lot to have a wise fool for my friend: nothing is moreuntractable. "I am determined," the man says. Madmen are also; but themore firmly they form a judgment on things which do not exist, themore ellebore they require. Will you not act like a sick man andcall in the physician? "I am sick, master, help me; consider what Imust do: it is my duty to obey you." So it is here also: "I know notwhat I ought to do, but I am come to learn." Not so; but, "Speak to meabout other things: upon this I have determined." What other things?for what is greater and more useful than for you to be persuadedthat it is not sufficient to have made your determination and not tochange it. This is the tone of madness, not of health. "I will die, ifyou compel me to this." Why, man? What has happened? "I havedetermined." I have had a lucky escape that you have not determined tokill me. "I take no money." Why? "I have determined." Be assuredthat with the very tone which you now use in refusing to take, thereis nothing to hinder you at some time from inclining without reason totake money and then saying, "I have determined." As in a distemperedbody, subject to defluxions, the humor inclines sometimes to theseparts and then to those, so too a sickly soul knows not which way toincline: but if to this inclination and movement there is added atone, then the evil becomes past help and cure.  CHAPTER 16  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 thewill. Well then? Does any one among us think of these lessons out ofthe schools? Does any one meditate by himself to give an answer tothings 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 isshown to you, have you studied to make the proper answer, that moneyis not a good thing? Have you practiced yourself in these answers,or only against sophisms? Why do you wonder then if in the cases whichyou have studied, in those you have improved; but in those which youhave not studied, in those you remain the same? When the rhetoricianknows that he has written well, that he has committed to memory whathe has written, and brings an agreeable voice, why is he stillanxious? Because he is not satisfied with having studied. What thendoes he want? To be praised by the audience? For the purpose, then, ofbeing able to practice declamation, he has been disciplined: butwith respect to praise and blame he has not been disciplined. For whendid he hear from any one what praise is, what blame is, what thenature of each is, what kind of praise should be sought, or whatkind of blame should be shunned? And when did he practice thisdiscipline which follows these words? Why then do you still wonder if,in the matters which a man has learned, there he surpasses others, andin those in which he has not been disciplined, there he is the samewith the many. So the lute player knows how to play, sings well, andhas a fine dress, and yet he trembles when he enters on the stage; forthese matters he understands, but he does not know what a crowd is,nor the shouts of a crowd, nor what ridicule is. Neither does heknow 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 hasbeen praised, he leaves the theatre puffed up, but if he has beenridiculed, the swollen bladder has been punctured and subsides.  This is the case also with ourselves. What do we admire?Externals. About what things are we busy? Externals. And have we anydoubt then why we fear or why we are anxious? What, then, happens whenwe think the things which are coming on us to be evils? It is not inour power not to be afraid, it is not in our power not to beanxious. 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 andpray that your nose may not run. Wipe yourself rather and do not blamehim. Well then, has he given to you nothing in the present case? Hashe 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 youlook for one who shall wipe your you st nose? But we neither studythese things nor care for them. Give me a man who cares how he shalldo anything, not for the obtaining of a thing but who cares abouthis own energy. What man, when he is walking about, cares for hisown energy? who, when he is deliberating, cares about his owndeliberation, and not about obtaining that about which he deliberates?And if he succeeds, he is elated and says, "How well we havedeliberated; did I not tell you, brother, that it is impossible,when we have thought about anything, that it should not turn outthus?" But if the thing should turn out otherwise, the wretched man ishumbled; he knows not even what to say about what has taken place. Whoamong us for the sake of this matter has consulted a seer? Who amongus as to his actions has not slept in indifference? Who? Give to meone that I may see the man whom I have long been looking for, who istruly noble and ingenuous, whether young or old; name him.  Why then are we still surprised, if we are well practiced inthinking about matters, but in our acts are low, without decency,worthless, cowardly, impatient of labour, altogether bad? For we donot care about things, nor do we study them. But if we had fearednot death or banishment, but fear itself, we should have studied notto fall into those things which appear to us evils. Now in theschool we are irritable and wordy; and if any little question arisesabout any of these things, we are able to examine them fully. But dragus to practice, and you will find us miserably shipwrecked. Let somedisturbing appearance come on us, and you will know what we havebeen studying and in what we have been exercising ourselves.Consequently, through want of discipline, we are always addingsomething to the appearance and representing things to be greater thanwhat they are. For instance as to myself, when I am on a voyage andlook down on the deep sea, or look round on it and see no land, I amout of my mind and imagine that I must drink up all this water if I amwrecked, and it does not occur to me that three pints are enough. Whatthen disturbs me? The sea? No, but my opinion. Again, when anearthquake shall happen, I imagine that the city is going to fall onme; is not one little stone enough to knock my brains out?  What then are the things which are heavy on us and disturb us?What else than opinions? What else than opinions lies heavy upon himwho goes away and leaves his companions and friends and places andhabits of life? Now little children, for instance, when they cry onthe nurse leaving them for a short time, forget their sorrow if theyreceive a small cake. Do you choose then that we should compare you tolittle children? No, by Zeus, for I do not wish to be pacified by asmall cake, but by right opinions. And what are these? Such as a manought to study all day, and not to be affected by anything that is nothis own, neither by companion nor place nor gymnasia, and not evenby his own body, but to remember the law and to have it before hiseyes. And what is the divine law? To keep a man's own, not to claimthat which belongs to others, but to use what is given, and when it isnot given, not to desire it; and when a thing is taken away, to giveit up readily and immediately, and to be thankful for the time thata man has had the use of it, if you would not cry for your nurse andmamma. 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 whocries for a girl, if you grieve for a little gymnasium, and littleporticoes and young men and such places of amusement? Another comesand laments that he shall no longer drink the water of Dirce. Is theMarcian water worse than that of Dirce? "But I was used to the waterof Dirce?" And you in turn will be used to the other. Then if youbecome attached to this also, cry for this too, and try to make averse like the verse of Euripides,     The hot baths of Nero and the Marcian water.See how tragedy is made when common things happen to silly men.  "When then shall I see Athens again and the Acropolis?" Wretch,are you not content with what you see daily? have you anythingbetter or greater to see than the sun, the moon, the stars, thewhole earth, the sea? But if indeed you comprehend him who administersthe Whole, and carry him about in yourself, do you still desiresmall stones, and a beautiful rock? When, then, you are going to leavethe sun itself and the moon, what will you do? will you sit and weeplike children? Well, what have you been doing in the school? whatdid you hear, what did you learn? why did you write yourself aphilosopher, when you might have written the truth; as, "I madecertain introductions, and I read Chrysippus, but I did not evenapproach the door of a philosopher." For how should I possess anythingof the kind which Socrates possessed, who died as he did, who lived ashe did, or anything such as Diogenes possessed? Do you think thatany one of such men wept or grieved, because he was not going to see acertain man, or a certain woman, nor to be in Athens or in Corinth,but, if it should so happen, in Susa or in Ecbatana? For if a mancan quit the banquet when he chooses, and no longer amuse himself,does he still stay and complain, and does he not stay, as at anyamusement, only so long as he is pleased? Such a man, I suppose, wouldendure perpetual exile or to be condemned to death. Will you not beweaned now, like children, and take more solid food, and not cry aftermammas and nurses, which are the lamentations of old women? "But ifI go away, I shall cause them sorrow." You cause them sorrow? By nomeans; but that will cause them sorrow which also causes you sorrow,opinion. What have you to do then? Take away your own opinion, andif these women are wise, they will take away their own: if they donot, they will lament through their own fault.  My man, as the proverb says, make a desperate effort on behalf oftranquillity of mind, freedom and magnanimity. Lift up your head atlast as released from slavery. Dare to look up to God and say, "Dealwith me for the future as thou wilt; I am of the same mind as thouart; I am thine: I refuse nothing that pleases thee: lead me wherethou wilt: clothe me in any dress thou choosest: is it thy will that Ishould hold the office of a magistrate, that I should be in thecondition of a private man, stay there or be an exile, be poor, berich? I will make thy defense to men in behalf of all theseconditions. I will show the nature of each thing what it is." You willnot do so; but sit in an ox's belly, and wait for your mamma tillshe shall feed you. Who would Hercules have been, if he had sat athome? He would have been Eurystheus and not Hercules. Well, and in histravels through the world how many intimates and how many friendshad he? But nothing more dear to him than God. For this reason itwas believed that he was the son of God, and he was. In obedience toGod, then, he went about purging away injustice and lawlessness. Butyou are not Hercules and you are not able to purge away the wickednessof others; nor yet are you Theseus, able to pure away the evilthings of Attica. Clear away your own. From yourself, from yourthoughts cast away, instead of Procrustes and Sciron, sadness, fear,desire, envy, malevolence, avarice, effeminacy, intemperance. But itis not possible to eject these things otherwise than by looking to Godonly, by fixing your affections on him only, by being consecrated tohis commands. But if you choose anything else, you will with sighs andgroans be compelled to follow what is stronger than yourself, alwaysseeking tranquillity and never able to find it; for you seektranquillity there where it is not, and you neglect to seek it whereit is.  CHAPTER 17  How we must adapt preconceptions to particular cases  What is the first business of him who philosophizes? To throw awayself-conceit. For it is impossible for a man to begin to learn thatwhich he thinks that he knows. As to things then which ought to bedone and ought not to be done, and good and bad, and beautiful andugly, all of us talking of them at random go to the philosophers;and on these matters we praise, we censure, we accuse, we blame, wejudge and determine about principles honourable and dishonourable. Butwhy do we go to the philosophers? Because we wish to learn what wedo not think we know. And what is this? Theorems. For we wish to learnwhat philosophers say as being something elegant and acute; and somewish to learn that they may get profit what they learn. It isridiculous then to think that a person wishes to learn one thing,and will learn another; or further, that a man will make proficiencyin that which he does not learn. But the many are deceived by thiswhich deceived also the rhetorician Theopompus, when he blames evenPlato for wishing everything to be defined. For what does he say? "Didnone of us before you use the words 'good' or 'just,' or do we utterthe sounds in an unmeaning and empty way without understanding whatthey severally signify?" Now who tells you, Theopompus, that we hadnot natural notions of each of these things and preconceptions? But itis not possible to adapt preconceptions to their correspondent objectsif we have not distinguished them, and inquired what object must besubjected to each preconception. You may make the same chargeagainst physicians also. For who among us did not use the words"healthy" and "unhealthy" before Hippocrates lived, or did we utterthese words as empty sounds? For we have also a certainpreconception of health, but we are not able to adapt it. For thisreason one says, "Abstain from food"; another says, "Give food";another says, "Bleed"; and another says, "Use cupping." What is thereason? is it any other than that a man cannot properly adapt thepreconception of health to particulars?  So it is in this matter also, in the things which concern life.Who among us does not speak of good and bad, of useful and not useful;for who among us has not a preconception of each of these things? Isit then a distinct and perfect preconception? Show this. How shall Ishow this? Adapt the preconception properly to the particularthings. Plato, for instance, subjects definitions to the preconceptionof the useful, but you to the preconception of the useless. Is itpossible then that both of you are right? How is it possible? Does notone man adapt the preconception of good to the matter of wealth, andanother not to wealth, but to the matter of pleasure and to that ofhealth? For, generally, if all of us who use those words knowsufficiently each of them, and need no diligence in resolving, thenotions of the preconceptions, why do we differ, why do we quarrel,why do we blame one another?  And why do I now allege this contention with one another and speakof it? If you yourself properly adapt your preconceptions, why are youunhappy, why are you hindered? Let us omit at present the second topicabout the pursuits and the study of the duties which relate to them.Let us omit also the third topic, which relates to the assents: I giveup to you these two topics. Let us insist upon the first, whichpresents an almost obvious demonstration that we do not properly adaptthe preconceptions. Do you now desire that which is possible andthat which is possible to you? Why then are you hindered? why areyou unhappy? Do you not now try to avoid the unavoidable? Why thendo you fall in with anything which you would avoid? Why are youunfortunate? Why, when you desire a thing, does it not happen, and,when you do not desire it, does it happen? For this is the greatestproof of unhappiness and misery: "I wish for something, and it doesnot happen." And what is more wretched than I?  It was because she could not endure this that Medea came to murderher children: an act of a noble spirit in this view at least, forshe had a just opinion what it is for a thing not to succeed which aperson wishes. Then she says, "Thus I shall be avenged on him whohas wronged and insulted me; and what shall I gain if he is punishedthus? how then shall it be done? I shall kill my children, but I shallpunish myself also: and what do I care?" This is the aberration ofsoul which possesses great energy. For she did not know wherein liesthe doing of that which we wish; that you cannot get this fromwithout, nor yet by the alteration and new adaptation of things. Donot desire the man, and nothing which you desire will fall tohappen: do not obstinately desire that he shall live with you: donot desire to remain in Corinth; and, in a word, desire nothing thanthat which God wills. And who shall hinder you? who shall compelyou? No man shall compel you any more than he shall compel Zeus.  When you have such a guide, and your wishes and desires are the sameas his, why do you fear disappointment? Give up your desire towealth and your aversion to poverty, and you will be disappointed inthe one, you will fall into the other. Well, give them up to health,and you will be unfortunate: give them up to magistracies, honours,country, friends, children, in a word to any of the things which arenot in man's power. But give them up to Zeus and to the rest of thegods; surrender them to the gods, let the gods govern, let your desireand aversion be ranged on the side of the gods, and wherein will yoube any longer unhappy? But if, lazy wretch, you envy, and complain,and are jealous, and fear, and never cease for a single daycomplaining both of yourself and of the gods, why do you still speakof being educated? What kind of an education, man? Do you mean thatyou have been employed about sophistical syllogisms? Will you not,if it is possible, unlearn all these things and begin from thebeginning, and see at the same time that hitherto you have not eventouched the matter; and then, commencing from this foundation, willyou not build up all that comes after, so that nothing, may happenwhich you do not choose, and nothing shall fail to happen which you dochoose?  Give me one young man who has come to the school with thisintention, who is become a champion for this matter and says, "Igive up everything else, and it is enough for me if "t shall ever bein my power to pass my life free from hindrance and free from trouble,and to stretch out my neck to all things like a free man, and tolook up to heaven as a friend of God, and fear nothing that canhappen." Let any of you point out such a man that I may "Come, youngman, into the possession of that which is your own, it is your destinyto adorn philosophy: yours are these possessions, yours these books,yours these discourses." Then when he shall have laboured sufficientlyand exercised himself in this of the matter, let him come to meagain and say, "I desire to be free from passion and free fromperturbation; and I wish as a pious man and a philosopher and adiligent person to know what is my duty to the gods, what to myparents, what to my brothers, what to my country, what tostrangers." Come also to the second matter: this also is yours. "But Ihave now sufficiently studied the second part also, and I would gladlybe secure and unshaken, and not only when I am awake, but also whenI am asleep, and when I am filled with wine, and when I ammelancholy." Man, you are a god, you have great designs.  "No: but I wish to understand what Chrysippus says in his treatiseof the Pseudomenos." Will you not hang yourself, wretch, with suchyour intention? And what good will it do you? You will read thewhole with sorrow, and you will speak to others trembling, Thus youalso do. "Do you wish me, brother, to read to you, and you to me?""You write excellently, my man; and you also excellently in thestyle of Xenophon, and you in the style of Plato, and you in the styleof Antisthenes." Then, having told your dreams to one another, youreturn to the same things: your desires are the same, your aversionsthe same, your pursuits are the same, and your designs and purposes,you wish for the same things and work for the same. In the nextplace you do not even seek for one to give you advice, but you arevexed if you hear such things. Then you say, "An ill-natured oldfellow: when I was going away, he did not weep nor did he say, 'Intowhat danger you are going: if you come off safe, my child, I will burnlights.' This is what a good-natured man would do." It will be a greatthing for you if you do return safe, and it will be worth while toburn lights for such a person: for you ought to be immortal and exemptfrom disease.  Casting away then, as I say, this conceit of thinking that we knowsomething useful, we I I must come to philosophy as we apply togeometry, and to music: but if we do not, we shall not even approachto proficiency, though we read all the collections and commentaries ofChrysippus and those of Antipater and Archedemus.  CHAPTER 18  How we should struggle against appearances  Every habit and faculty is maintained and increased by thecorresponding actions: the habit of walking by walking, the habit ofrunning by running. If you would be a good reader, read; if awriter, write. But when you shall not have read thirty days insuccession, but have done something else, you will know theconsequence. 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 legsare 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 accustomyourself to do something else in place of it.  So it is with respect to the affections of the soul: when you havebeen angry, you must know that not only has this evil befallen you,but that you have also increased the habit, and in a manner thrownfuel upon fire. When you have been overcome in sexual intercourse witha person, do not reckon this single defeat only, but reckon that youhave also nurtured, increased your incontinence. For it isimpossible for habits and faculties, some of them not to beproduced, when they did not exist before, and others not beincreased and strengthened by corresponding acts.  In this manner certainly, as philosophers say, also diseases ofthe mind grow up. For when you have once desired money, if reason beapplied to lead to a perception of the evil, the desire is stopped,and the ruling faculty of our mind is restored to the originalauthority. But if you apply no means of cure, it no longer returnsto the same state, but, being again excited by the correspondingappearance, it is inflamed to desire quicker than before: and whenthis takes place continually, it is henceforth hardened, and thedisease of the mind confirms the love of money. For he who has had afever, and has been relieved from it, is not in the same state that hewas before, unless he has been completely cured. Something of the kindhappens also in diseases of the soul. Certain traces and blistersare left in it, and unless a man shall completely efface them, when heis again lashed on the same places, the lash will produce not blistersbut sores. If then you wish not to be of an angry temper, do notfeed the habit; throw nothing on it which will increase it: at firstkeep quiet, and count the days on which you have not been angry. Iused to be in passion every day; now every second day; then everythird, 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, northe day after, nor yet on any succeeding day during two or threemonths; but I took care when some exciting things happened." Beassured that you are in a good way. To-day when I saw a handsomeperson, I did not say to myself, "I wish I could lie with her," and"Happy is her husband"; for he who says this says, "Happy is heradulterer also." Nor do I picture the rest to my mind; the womanpresent, and stripping herself and lying down by my side. I strokemy head and say, "Well done, Epictetus, you have solved a finelittle sophism, much finer than that which is called the mastersophism." And if even the woman is willing, and gives signs, and sendsmessages, and if she also fondle me and come close to me, and I shouldabstain and be victorious, that would be a sophism beyond that whichis named "The Liar," and "The Quiescent." Over such a victory asthis a man may justly be proud; not for proposing, the master sophism.  How then shall this be done? Be willing at length to be approvedby yourself, be willing to appear beautiful to God, desire to he inpurity with your own pure self and with God. Then when any suchappearance visits you, Plato says, "Have recourse to expiations, goa suppliant to the temples of the averting deities." It is evensufficient if "you resort to the society of noble and just men," andcompare yourself with them, whether you find one who is living ordead. Go to Socrates and see him lying down with Alcibiades, andmocking his beauty: consider what a victory he at last found that hehad gained over himself; what an Olympian victory; in what number hestood from Hercules; so that, by the Gods, one may justly salutehim, "Hail, wondrous man, you who have conquered not less thesesorry boxers and pancratiasts nor yet those who are like them, thegladiators." By placing these objects on the other side you willconquer the appearance: you will not be drawn away by it. But, inthe first place, be not hurried away by the rapidity of theappearance, but say, "Appearances, wait for me a little: let me seewho 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 livelypictures of the things which will follow; for if you do, it will carryyou off wherever it pleases. But rather bring in to oppose it someother beautiful and noble appearance and cast out this baseappearance. And if you are accustomed to be exercised in this way, youwill see what shoulders, what sinews, what strength you have. Butnow it is only trifling words, and nothing more.  This is the true athlete, the man who exercises himself against suchappearances. Stay, wretch, do not be carried away. Great is thecombat, divine is the work; it is for kingship, for freedom, forhappiness, for freedom from perturbation. Remember God: call on him asa 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 appearanceswhich 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 youwill know what calm and serenity there is in the ruling faculty. Butif you have once been defeated and say that you will conquerhereafter, then say the same again, be assured that you at last bein so wretched a condition and so weak that you will not even knowafterward that you are doing wrong, but you will even begin to makeapologies for your wrongdoing, and then you will confirm the saying ofHesiod to be true,     With constant ills the dilatory strives.  CHAPTER 19  Against those who embrace, philosophical opinions only in words  The argument called the "ruling argument" appears to have beenproposed from such principles as these: there is in fact a commoncontradiction between one another in these three positions, each twobeing in contradiction to the third. The propositions are, thateverything past must of necessity be true; that an impossibilitydoes not follow a possibility; and that thing is possible whichneither is nor t at a t will be true. Diodorus observing thiscontradiction employed the probative force of the first two for thedemonstration of this proposition, "That nothing is possible whichis not true and never will be." Now another will hold these two: "Thatsomething is possible, which is neither true nor ever will be": and"That an impossibility does not follow a possibility," But he will notallow that everything which is past is necessarily true, as thefollowers of Cleanthes seem to think, and Antipater copiously defendedthem. But others maintain the other two propositions, "That a thing ispossible which is neither true nor will he true": and "That everythingwhich is past is necessarily true"; but then they will maintain thatan impossibility can follow a possibility. But it is impossible tomaintain these three propositions, because of their commoncontradiction.  If then any man should ask me which of these propositions do Imaintain? I will answer him that I do not know; but I have receivedthis story, that Diodorus maintained one opinion, the followers ofPanthoides, I think, and Cleanthes maintained another opinion, andthose of Chrysippus a third. "What then is your opinion?" I was notmade for this purpose, to examine the appearances that occur to me andto compare what others say and to form an opinion of my own on thething. Therefore I differ not at all from the grammarian. "Who wasHector's father?" Priam. "Who were his brothers?" Alexander andDeiphobus. "Who was their mother?" Hecuba. I have heard this story."From whom?" From Homer. And Hellanicus also, I think, writes aboutthe same things, and perhaps others like him. And what further haveI about the ruling argument? Nothing. But, if I am a vain man,especially at a banquet, I surprise the guests by enumerating thosewho have written on these matters. Both Chrysippus has writtenwonderfully in his first book about "Possibilities," and Cleanthes haswritten specially on the subject, and Archedemus. Antipater also haswritten not only in his work about "Possibilities," but alsoseparately in his work on the ruling argument. Have you not read thework? "I have not read it." Read. And what profit will a man have fromit? he will be more trifling and impertinent than he is now; forwhat else have you rained by reading it? What opinion have youformed on this subject? none; but you will tell us of Helen and Priam,and the island of Calypso which never was and never will be. And inthis matter indeed it is of no great importance if you retain thestory, but have formed no opinion of your own. But in matters ofmorality this happens to us much more than in these things of which weare speaking.  "Speak to me about good and evil." Listen:     The wind from Ilium to Ciconian shores     Brought me."Of things some are good, some are bad, and others are indifferent.The good then are the virtues and the things which partake of thevirtues; the bad are the vices, and the things which partake ofthem; and the indifferent are the things which lie between the virtuesand the vices, wealth, health, life, death, pleasure, pain." Whence doyou know this? "Hellanicus says it in his Egyptian history"; forwhat difference does it make to say this, or to say that "Diogenes hasit in his Ethic," or Chrysippus or Cleanthes? Have you then examinedany of these things and formed an opinion of your own? Show how youare used to behave in a storm on shipboard? Do you remember thisdivision, when the sail rattles and a man, who knows nothing oftimes and seasons, stands by you when you are screaming and says,"Tell me, I ask you by the Gods, what you were saying just now. Isit a vice to suffer shipwreck: does it participate in vice?" Willyou not take up a stick and lay it on his head? What have we to dowith you, man? we are perishing and you come to mock us? But if Caesarsent for you to answer a charge, do you remember the distinction?If, when you are going in, pale and trembling, a person should come upto you and say, "Why do you tremble, man? what is the matter aboutwhich you are engaged? Does Caesar who sits within give virtue andvice to those who go in to him?" You reply, "Why do you also mock meand add to my present sorrows?" Still tell me, philosopher, tell mewhy you tremble? Is it not death of which you run the risk, or aprison, or pain of the body, or banishment, or disgrace? What elseis there? Is there any vice or anything which partakes of vice? Whatthen did you use to say of these things? "What have you to do with me,man? my own evils are enough for me." And you say right. Your ownevils are enough for you, your baseness, your cowardice, your boastingwhich you showed when you sat in the school. Why did you decorateyourself with what belonged to others? Why did you call yourself aStoic?  Observe yourselves thus in your actions, and you will find to whatsect you belong. You will find that most of you are Epicureans, afew Peripatetics, and those feeble. For wherein will you show that youreally consider virtue equal to everything else or even superior?But show me a Stoic, if you can. Where or how? But you can show mean endless number who utter small arguments of the Stoics. For dothe same persons repeat the Epicurean opinions any worse? And thePeripatetic, do they not handle them also with equal accuracy? whothen is a Stoic? As we call a statue Phidiac which is fashionedaccording to the art of Phidias; so show me a man who is fashionedaccording to the doctrines which he utters. Show me a man who issick and happy, in danger and happy, dying and happy, in exile andhappy, in disgrace and happy. Show him: I desire, by the gods, tosee a Stoic. You cannot show me one fashioned so; but show me at leastone who is forming, who has shown a tendency to be a Stoic. Do me thisfavor: do not grudge an old man seeing a sight which I have not seenyet. Do you think that you must show me the Zeus of Phidias or theAthena, a work of ivory and gold? Let any of you show me a humansoul ready to think as God does, and not to blame either God or man,ready not to be disappointed about anything, not to consider himselfdamaged by anything, not to be angry, not to be envious, not to bejealous; and why should I not say it direct? desirous from a man tobecome a god, and in this poor mortal body thinking of hisfellowship with Zeus. Show me the man. But you cannot. Why then do youdelude yourselves and cheat others? and why do you put on a guisewhich does not belong to you, and walk about being thieves andpilferers of these names and things which do not belong to you?  And now I am your teacher, and you are instructed in my school.And I have this purpose, to make you free from restraint,compulsion, hindrance, to make you free, prosperous, happy, looking toGod in everything small and great. And you are here to learn andpractice these things. Why, then, do you not finish the work, if youalso have such a purpose as you ought to have, and if I, in additionto the purpose, also have such qualification as I ought to have?What is that which is wanting? When I see an artificer and material byhim, I expect the work. Here, then, is the artificer, here thematerial; what is it that we want? Is not the thing, one that can betaught? It is. Is it not then in our power? The only thing of all thatis in our power. Neither wealth is in our power, nor health, norreputation, nor in a word anything else except the right use ofappearances. This is by nature free from restraint, this alone is freefrom impediment. Why then do you not finish the work? Tell me thereason. For it is either through my fault that you do not finish it,or through your own fault, or through the nature of the thing. Thething itself is possible, and the only thing in our power. Itremains then that the fault is either in me or in you, or, what isnearer the truth, in both. Well then, are you willing that we begin atlast to bring such a purpose into this school, and to take no noticeof the past? Let us only make a beginning. Trust to me, and you willsee.  CHAPTER 20  Against the Epicureans and Academics  The propositions which are true and evident are of necessity usedeven by those who contradict them: and a man might perhaps consider itto be the greatest proof of a thing being evident that it is foundto be necessary even for him who denies it to make use of it at thesame time. For instance, if a man should deny that there is anythinguniversally true, it is plain that he must make the contradictorynegation, that nothing is universally true. What, wretch, do you notadmit even this? For what else is this than to affirm that whatever isuniversally affirmed is false? Again, if a man should come forward andsay: "Know that there is nothing that can be known, but all things areincapable of sure evidence"; or if another say, "Believe me and youwill be the better for it, that a man ought not to believeanything"; or again, if another should say, "Learn from me, man,that it is not possible to learn anything; I tell you this and willteach you, if you choose." Now in what respect do these differ fromthose? Whom shall I name? Those who call themselves Academics? "Men,agree that no man agrees: believe us that no man believes anybody."  Thus Epicurus also, when he designs to destroy the naturalfellowship of mankind, at the same time makes use of that which hedestroys. For what does he say? "Be not deceived men, nor be ledastray, nor be mistaken: there is no natural fellowship among rationalanimals; believe me. But those who say otherwise, deceive you andseduce you by false reasons." What is this to you? Permit us to bedeceived. Will you fare worse, if all the rest of us are persuadedthat there is a natural fellowship among us, and that it ought byall means to be preserved? Nay, it will be much better and safer foryou. Man, why do you trouble yourself about us? Why do you keepawake for us? Why do you light your lamp? Why do you rise early? Whydo you write so many books, that no one of us may be deceived aboutthe gods and believe that they take care of men; or that no one maysuppose the nature of good to be other than pleasure? For if this isso, lie down and sleep, and lead the life of a worm, of which youjudged yourself worthy: eat and drink, and enjoy women, and easeyourself, and snore. And what is it to you, how the rest shall thinkabout these things, whether right or wrong? For what have we to dowith you? You take care of sheep because they supply us with wool, andmilk, and, last of all, with their flesh. Would it not be adesirable thing if men could be lulled and enchanted by the Stoics,and sleep and present themselves to you and to those like you to beshorn and milked? For this you ought to say to your brotherEpicureans: but ought you not to conceal it from others, andparticularly before everything to persuade them that we are bynature adapted for fellowship, that temperance is a good thing; inorder that all things may be secured for you? Or ought we tomaintain this fellowship with some and not with others? With whom,then, ought we to maintain it? With such as on their part alsomaintain it, or with such as violate this fellowship? And whoviolate it more than you who establish such doctrines?  What then was it that waked Epicurus from his sleepiness, andcompelled him to write what he did write? What else was it than thatwhich is the strongest thing in men, nature, which draws a man toher own will though he be unwilling and complaining? "For since,"she says, "you think that there is no community among mankind, writethis opinion and leave it for others, and break your sleep to do this,and by your own practice condemn your own opinions." Shall we then saythat Orestes was agitated by the Erinyes and roused from his deepsleep, and did not more savage Erinyes and Pains rouse Epicurus fromhis sleep and not allow him to rest, but compelled him to make knownhis own evils, as madness and wine did the Galli? So strong andinvincible is man's nature. For how can a vine be moved not in themariner of a vine, but in the manner of an olive tree? or on the otherhand how can an olive tree be moved not in the manner of an olivetree, but in the manner of a vine? It is impossible: it cannot beconceived. Neither then is it possible for a man completely to losethe movements of a man; and even those who are deprived of theirgenital members are not able to deprive themselves of man's desires.Thus Epicurus also mutilated all the offices of a man, and of a fatherof a family, and of a citizen and of a friend, but he did not mutilatehuman desires, for he could not; not more than the lazy Academicscan cast away or blind their own senses, though they have tried withall their might to do it. What a shame is this? when a man hasreceived from nature measures and rules for the knowing of truth,and does not strive to add to these measures and rules and toimprove them, but, just the contrary, endeavors to take away anddestroy whatever enables us to discern the truth?  What say you philosopher? piety and sanctity, what do you think thatthey are? "If you like, I will demonstrate that they are good things."Well, demonstrate it, that our citizens may be turned and honor thedeity and may no longer be negligent about things of the highestvalue. "Have you then the demonstrations?" I have, and I amthankful. "Since then you are well pleased with them, hear thecontrary: 'That there are no Gods, and, if there are, they take nocare of men, nor is there any fellowship between us and them; and thatthis piety and sanctity which is talked of among most men is the lyingof boasters and sophists, or certainly of legislators for thepurpose of terrifying and checking wrong-doers.'" Well done,philosopher, you have done something for our citizens, you havebrought back all the young men to contempt of things divine. "Whatthen, does not this satisfy you? Learn now, that justice is nothing,that modesty is folly, that a father is nothing, a son nothing."Well done, philosopher, persist, persuade the young men, that we mayhave more with the same opinions as you who say the same as you.From such you an principles as those have grown our well-constitutedstates; by these was Sparta founded: Lycurgus fixed these opinionsin the Spartans by his laws and education, that neither is the servilecondition more base than honourable, nor the condition of free menmore honorable than base, and that those who died at Thermopylaedied from these opinions; and through what other opinions did theAthenians leave their city? Then those who talk thus, marry andbeget children, and employ themselves in public affairs and makethemselves priests and interpreters. Of whom? of gods who do notexist: and they consult the Pythian priestess that they may hear lies,and they repeat the oracles to others. Monstrous impudence andimposture.  Man what are you doing? are you refuting yourself every day; andwill you not give up these frigid attempts? When you eat, where do youcarry your hand to? to your mouth or to your eye? when you washyourself, what do you go into? do you ever call a pot a dish, or aladle a spit? If I were a slave of any of these men, even if I must beflayed by him dally, I would rack him. If he said, "Boy, throw someolive-oil into the bath," I would take pickle sauce and pour it downon his head. "What is this?" he would say. An appearance was presentedto me, I swear by your genius, which could not be distinguished fromoil and was exactly like it. "Here give me the barley drink," he says.I would fill and carry him a dish of sharp sauce. "Did I not ask forthe barley drink?" Yes, master; this is the barley drink. "Take it andsmell; take it and taste." How do you know then if our sensesdeceive us? If I had three or four fellow-slaves of the sameopinion, I should force him to hang himself through passion or tochange his mind. But now they mock us by using all the things whichnature gives, and in words destroying them.  Grateful indeed are men and modest, who, if they do nothing else,are daily eating bread and yet are shameless enough to say, we donot know if there is a Demeter or her daughter Persephone or aPluto; not to mention that they are enjoying the night and the day,the seasons of the year, and the stars, and the sea, and the land, andthe co-operation of mankind, and yet they are not moved in anydegree by these things to turn their attention to them; but theyonly seek to belch out their little problem, and when they haveexercised their stomach to go off to the bath. But what they shallsay, and about what things or to what persons, and what theirhearers shall learn from this talk, they care not even in the leastdegree, nor do they care if any generous youth after hearing such talkshould suffer any harm from it, nor after he has suffered harmshould lose all the seeds of his generous nature: nor if we shouldgive an adulterer help toward being shameless in his acts; nor if apublic peculator should lay hold of some cunning excuse from thesedoctrines; nor if another who neglects his parents should be confirmedin his audacity by this teaching. What then in your opinion is good orbad? This or that? Why then should a man say any more in reply to suchpersons as these, or give them any reason or listen to any reasonsfrom them, or try to convince them? By Zeus one might much soonerexpect to make certainties change their mind than those who are becomeso deaf and blind to their own evils.  CHAPTER 21  Of inconsistency  Some things men readily confess, and other things they do not. Noone 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 hadfortune equal to my understanding." But readily confess that theyare timid, and they say: "I am rather timid, I confess; but to otherrespects you will not find me to foolish." A man will not readilyconfess that he is intemperate; and that he is unjust he will notconfess at all. He will by no means confess that be is envious or abusybody. Most men will confess that they are compassionate. What thenis the reason? The chief thing is inconsistency and confusion in thethings which relate to good and evil. But different men have differentreasons; and generally what they imagine to be base, they do notconfess at all. But they suppose timidity to be a characteristic ofa good disposition, and compassion also; but silliness to be theabsolute characteristic of a slave. And they do not at all admit thethings which are offenses against society. But in the case of mosterrors, for this reason chiefly, they are induced to confess them,because they that there is something involuntary in them as intimidity and compassion; and if a man confess that he is in anyrespect intemperate, he alleges love as an excuse for what isinvoluntary. But men do not imagine injustice to be at all There isalso in jealousy, as they suppose, something involuntary; and for thisreason they confess to jealousy also.  Living among such men, who are so confused so ignorant of whatthey say, and of evils which they have or have not, and why theyhave them, or how they shall be relieved of them, I think it isworth the trouble for a man to watch constantly "Whether I also am oneof them, what imagination I have about myself, how I conduct myself,whether I conduct myself as a prudent man, whether I conduct myself asa temperate man, whether I ever say this, that I have been taught tobe prepared for everything that may happen. Have I theconsciousness, which a man who knows nothing ought to have, that Iknow nothing? Do I go to my teacher as men go to oracles, preparedto obey? or do I like a sniveling boy go to my school to learn historyand understand the books which I did not understand before, and, if itshould happen so, to explain them also to others?" Man, you have had afight in the house with a poor slave, you have turned the familyupside down, you have frightened the neighbours, and you come to me asif you were a wise man, and you take your seat and judge how I haveexplained some word, and how I have babbled whatever came into myhead. You come full of envy, and humbled, because you bring nothingfrom home; and you sit during, the discussion thinking of nothing elsethan how your father is disposed toward you and your brother. "Whatare they saying about me there? now they think that I am improving,and are saying, 'He will return with all knowledge.' I wish I couldlearn everything before I return: but much labour is necessary, and noone sends me anything, and the baths at Nicopolis are dirty;everything is bad at home, and bad here."  Then they say, "No one gains any profit from the school." Why, whocomes to the school, who comes for the purpose of being improved?who comes to present his opinions to he purified? who comes to learnwhat he is in want of? Why do you wonder then if you carry back fromthe school the very things which you bring into it? For you come notto lay aside or to correct them or to receive other principles inplace of them. By no means, nor anything like it. You rather look tothis, whether you possess already that for which you come. You wish toprattle about theorems? What then? Do you not become greater triflers?Do not your little theorems give you some opportunity of display?You solve sophistical syllogisms. Do you not examine the assumptionsof the syllogism named "The Liar"? Do you not examine hypotheticalsyllogisms? Why, then, are you still vexed if you receive the thingsfor which you come to the school? "Yes; but if my child die or mybrother, or if I must die or be racked, what good will these things dome?" Well, did you come for this? for this do you sit by my side?did you ever for this light your lamp or keep awake? or, when you wentout to the walking-place, did you ever propose any appearance that hadbeen presented to you instead of a syllogism, and did you and yourfriends discuss it together? Where and when? Then you say, "Theoremsare useless." To whom? To such as make a bad use of them. Foreyesalves are not useless to those who use them as they ought and whenthey ought. Fomentations are not useless. Dumb-bells are notuseless; but they are useless to some, useful to others. If you ask menow if syllogisms are useful, I will tell you that they are useful,and if you choose, I will prove it. "How then will they in any waybe useful to me?" Man, did you ask if they are useful to you, or didyou ask generally? Let him who is suffering from dysentery ask me ifvinegar is useful: I will say that it is useful. "Will it then beuseful to me?" I will say, "No." Seek first for the discharge to bestopped and the ulcers to be closed. And do you, O men, first cure theulcers and stop the discharge; be tranquil in your mind, bring it freefrom distraction into the school, and you will know what powerreason has.  CHAPTER 22  On friendship  What a man applies himself to earnestly, that he naturally loves. Domen then apply themselves earnestly to the things which are bad? By nomeans. Well, do they apply themselves to things which in no wayconcern themselves? Not to these either. It remains, then, that theyemploy themselves earnestly only about things which are good; and ifthey are earnestly employed about things, they love such thingsalso. Whoever, then, understands what is good, can also know how tolove; but he who cannot distinguish good from bad, and things whichare neither good nor bad from both, can he possess the power ofloving? To love, then, is only in the power of the wise.  "How is this?" a man may say; am foolish, and yet love my child."I am surprised indeed that you have begun by making the admission thatyou are foolish. For what are you deficient in? Can you not make useof your senses? do you not distinguish appearances? do you not usefood which is suitable for your body, and clothing and habitation? Whythen do you admit that you are foolish? It is in truth because you areoften disturbed by appearances and perplexed, and their power ofpersuasion often conquers you; and sometimes you think these things tobe good, and then the same things to be bad, and lastly neither goodnor bad; and in short you grieve, fear, envy, are disturbed, you arechanged. This is the reason why you confess that you are foolish.And are you not changeable in love? But wealth, and pleasure and, in aword, things themselves, do you sometimes think them to he good andsometimes bad? and do you not think the same men at one time to begood, at another time bad? and have you not at one time a friendlyfeeling toward them and at another time the feeling of an enemy? anddo you not at one time praise them and at another time blame them?"Yes; I have these feelings also." Well then, do you think that he whohas been deceived about a man is his friend? "Certainly not." And hewho has selected a man as his friend and is of a changeabledisposition, has he good-will toward him? "He has not." And he who nowabuses a man, and afterward admires him? "This man also has nogood-will to the other." Well then, did you never see little dogscaressing and playing with one another, so that you might say there isnothing more friendly? but, that you may know what friendship is,throw a bit of flesh among them, and you will learn. Throw betweenyourself and your son a little estate, and you will know how soon hewill wish to bury you and how soon you wish your son to die. Thenyou will change your tone and say, "What a son I have brought up! Hehas long been wishing to bury me." Throw a smart girl between you; anddo you, the old man, love her, and the young one will love her too, Ifa little fame intervene, or dangers, it will be just the same. Youwill utter the words of the father of Admetus!     Life gives you pleasure: and why not your father.Do you think that Admetus did not love his own child when he waslittle? that he was not in agony when the child had a fever? that hedid not often say, "I wish I had the fever instead of the child?" thenwhen the test (the thing) came and was near, see what words theyutter. Were not Eteocles and Polynices from the same mother and fromthe same father? Were they not brought up together, had they not livedtogether, drunk together, slept together, and often kissed oneanother? So that, if any man, I think, had seen them, he would haveridiculed the philosophers for the paradoxes which they utter aboutfriendship. But when a quarrel rose between them about the royalpower, as between dogs about a bit of meat, see what they say,   Polynices: Where will you take your station before the towers?   Eteocles: Why do you ask me this?   Pol. I place myself opposite and try to kill you.   Et. I also wish to do the same.Such are the wishes that they utter.  For universally, be not deceived, every animal is attached tonothing so much as to its own interest. Whatever then appears to it animpediment to this interest, whether this be a brother, or a father,or a child, or beloved, or lover, it hates, spurns, curses: for itsnature is to love nothing so much as its own interest; this is father,and brother and kinsman, and country, and God. When, then, the godsappear to us to be an impediment to this, we abuse them and throw downtheir statues and burn their temples, as Alexander ordered the templesof AEsculapius to be burned when his dear friend died.  For this reason if a man put in the same place his interest,sanctity, goodness, and country, and parents, and friends, all theseare secured: but if he puts in one place his interest, in anotherhis friends, and his country and his kinsmen and justice itself, allthese give way being borne down by the weight of interest. For wherethe "I" and the "Mine" are placed, to that place of necessity theanimal inclines: if in the flesh, there is the ruling power: if in thewill, it is there: and if it is in externals, it is there. If then Iam there where my will is, then only shall I be a friend such as Iought to be, and son, and father; for this will he my interest, tomaintain the character of fidelity, of modesty, of patience, ofabstinence, of active cooperation, of observing my relations. But if Iput myself in one place, and honesty in another, then the doctrineof Epicurus becomes strong, which asserts either that there is nohonesty or it is that which opinion holds to be honest.  It was through this ignorance that the Athenians and theLacedaemonians quarreled, and the Thebans with both; and the greatking quarreled with Hellas, and the Macedonians with both; and theRomans with the Getae. And still earlier the Trojan war happened forthese reasons. Alexander was the guest of Menelaus; and if any man hadseen their friendly disposition, he would not have believed any onewho said that they were not friends. But there was cast between them abit of meat, a handsome woman, and about her war arose. And now whenyou see brothers to be friends appearing to have one mind, do notconclude from this anything about their friendship, not even if theysay it and swear that it is impossible for them to be separated fromone another. For the ruling principle of a bad man cannot betrusted, it is insecure, has no certain rule by which it isdirected, and is overpowered at different times by differentappearances. But examine, not what other men examine, if they are bornof the same parents  and brought up together, and under the samepedagogue; but examine this only, wherein they place their interest,whether in externals or in the will. If in externals, do not name themfriends, no more than name them trustworthy or constant, or brave orfree: do not name them even men, if you have any judgment. For that isnot a principle of human nature which makes them bite one another, andabuse one another, and occupy deserted places or public places, asif they were mountains, and in the courts of justice display theacts of robbers; nor yet that which makes them intemperate andadulterers and corrupters, nor that which makes them do whateverelse men do against one another through this one opinion only, that ofplacing themselves and their interests in the things which are notwithin the power of their will. But if you hear that in truth thesemen think the good to be only there, where will is, and where there isa right use of appearances, no longer trouble yourself whether theyare father or son, or brothers, or have associated a long time and arecompanions, but when you have ascertained this only, confidentlydeclare that they are friends, as you declare that they arefaithful, that they are just. For where else is friendship thanwhere there is fidelity, and modesty, where there is a communion ofhonest things and of nothing else?  "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 notregard you in the same way as he wipes his shoes with a sponge, oras he takes care of his beast? How do you know, when you have ceasedto be useful as a vessel, he will not throw you away like a brokenplatter? "But this woman is my wife, and we have lived together solong." And how long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus, and was themother of children and of many? But a necklace came between them. "Andwhat is a necklace?" It is the opinion about such things. That was thebestial principle, that was the thing which broke asunder thefriendship between husband and wife, that which did not allow thewoman to be a wife nor the mother to be a mother. And let every manamong you who has seriously resolved either to be a friend himselfor to have another for his friend, cut out these opinions, hatethem, drive them from his soul. And thus, first of all, he will notreproach himself, he will not be at variance with himself, will notchange his mind, he will not torture himself. In the next place, toanother also, who is like himself, he will be altogether andcompletely a friend. But he will bear with the man who is unlikehimself, he will be kind to him, gentle, ready to pardon on account ofhis ignorance, on account of his being mistaken in things of thegreatest importance; but he will be harsh to no man, being wellconvinced of Plato's doctrine that every mind is deprived of truthunwillingly. If you cannot do this, yet you can do in all otherrespects as friends do, drink together, and lodge together, and sailtogether, and you may be born of the same parents; for snakes alsoare: but neither will they be friends nor you, so long as you retainthese bestial and cursed opinions.  CHAPTER 23  On the power of speaking  Every man will read a book with more pleasure or even with morecase, if it is written in fairer characters. Therefore every manwill also listen more readily to what is spoken, if it is signified byappropriate and becoming words. We must not say, then, that there isno faculty of expression: for this affirmation is the characteristicof an impious and also of a timid man. Of an impious man, because heundervalues the gifts which come from God, just as if he would takeaway the commodity of the power of vision, or of hearing, or ofseeing. Has, then, God given you eyes to no purpose? and to no purposehas he infused into them a spirit so strong and of such skillfulcontrivance as to reach a long way and to fashion the forms ofthings which are seen? What messenger is so swift and vigilant? And tono purpose has he made the interjacent atmosphere so efficacious andelastic that the vision penetrates through the atmosphere which isin a manner moved? And to no purpose has he made light, without thepresence of which there would be no use in any other thing?  Man, be neither ungrateful for these gifts nor yet forget the thingswhich are superior to them. But indeed for the power of seeing andhearing, and indeed for life itself, and for the things whichcontribute to support it, for the fruits which are dry, and for wineand oil give thanks to God: but remember that he has given yousomething else better than all these, I mean the power of usingthem, proving them and estimating the value of each. For what isthat which gives information about each of these powers, what eachof them is worth? Is it each faculty itself? Did you ever hear thefaculty of vision saying anything about itself? or the faculty ofhearing? or wheat, or barley, or a horse or a dog? No; but they areappointed as ministers and slaves to serve the faculty which has thepower of making use of the appearances of things. And if you inquirewhat is the value of each thing, of whom do you inquire? who answersyou? How then can any other faculty be more powerful than this,which uses the rest as ministers and itself proves each and pronouncesabout them? for which of them knows what itself is, and what is itsown value? which of them knows when it ought to employ itself and whennot? what faculty is it which opens and closes the eyes, and turnsthem away from objects to which it ought not to apply them and doesapply them to other objects? Is it the faculty of vision? No; but itis the faculty of the will. What is that faculty which closes andopens the ears? what is that by which they are curious andinquisitive, or, on the contrary, unmoved by what is said? is it thefaculty of hearing? It is no other than the faculty of the will.Will this faculty then, seeing that it is amid all the other facultieswhich are blind and dumb and unable to see anything else except thevery acts for which they are appointed in order to minister to thisand serve it, but this faculty alone sees sharp and sees what is thevalue of each of the rest; will this faculty declare to us thatanything else is the best, or that itself is? And what else does thedo when it is opened than see? But whether we ought to look on thewife of a certain person, and in what manner, who tells us? Thefaculty of the will. And whether we ought to believe what is said ornot to believe it, and if we do believe, whether we ought to bemoved by it or not, who tells us? Is it not the faculty of the will?But this faculty of speaking and of ornamenting words, if there isindeed any such peculiar faculty, what else does it do, when therehappens to be discourse about a thing, than to ornament the wordsand arrange them as hairdressers do the hair? But whether it is betterto speak or to be silent, and better to speak in this way or that way,and whether this is becoming or not becoming and the season for eachand the and the use, what else tells us than the faculty of thewill? Would you have it then to come forward and condemn itself?  "What then," it says, "if the fact is so, can that which ministersbe superior to that to which it ministers, can the horse be superiorto the rider, or the do, to the huntsman, or the instrument to themusician, or the servants to the king?" What is that which makes useof the rest? The will. What takes care of all? The will. What destroysthe whole man, at one time by hunger, at another time by hanging,and at another time by a precipice? The will. Then is anythingstronger in men than this? and how is it possible that the thingswhich are subject to restraint are stronger than that which is notWhat things are naturally formed to hinder the faculty of vision? Bothwill and things which do not depend on the faculty of the will. Itis the same with the faculty of hearing, with the faculty ofspeaking in like manner. But what has a natural power of hindering thewill? Nothing which is independent of the will; but only the willitself, when it is perverted. Therefore this is alone vice or alonevirtue.  Then being so great a faculty and set over all the rest, let it comeforward and tell us that the most excellent of all things is theflesh. Not even if the flesh itself declared that it is the mostexcellent, would any person bear that it should say this. But whatis it, Epicurus, which pronounces this, which wrote about "The Endof our Being," which wrote on "The Nature of Things," which wroteabout the Canon, which led you to wear a beard, which wrote when itwas dying that it was spending the last and a happy day? Was thisthe flesh or the will? Then do you admit that you possess anythingsuperior to this? and are you not mad? are you in fact so blind anddeaf?  What then? Does any man despise the other faculties I hope not. Doesany man say that there is no use or excellence in the speakingfaculty? I hope not. That would be foolish, impious, ungrateful towardGod. But a man renders to each thing its due value. For there issome use even in an ass, but not so much as in an ox: there is alsouse in a dog, but not so much as in a slave: there is also some use ina slave, but not so much as in citizens: there is also some use incitizens, but riot so much as in magistrates. Not, indeed, becausesome things are superior, must we undervalue the use which otherthings have. There is a certain value in the power of speaking, but itis not so great as the power of the will. When, then, I speak thus,let no man think that I ask you to neglect the power of speaking,for neither do I ask you to neglect the eyes, nor the ears nor thehands nor the feet nor clothing nor shoes. But if you ask me, "What,then, is the most excellent of all things?" what must I say? Icannot say the power of speaking, but the power of the will, when itis right. For it is this which uses the other, and all the otherfaculties both small and great. For when this faculty of the will isset right, a man who is not good becomes good: but when it falls, aman becomes bad. It is through this that we are unfortunate, that weare fortunate, that we blame one another, are pleased with oneanother. In a word, it is this which if neglect it makesunhappiness, and if we carefully look after it makes happiness.  But to take away the faculty of speaking, and to say that there isno such faculty in reality, is the act not only of an ungrateful mantoward those who gave it, but also of a cowardly man: for such aperson seems to me to fear if there is any faculty of this kind,that we shall not be able to despise it. Such also are those who saythat there is no difference between beauty and ugliness. Then it wouldhappen that a man would be affected in the same way if he sawThersites and if he saw Achilles; in the same way, if he saw Helen andany other woman. But these are foolish and clownish notions, and thenotions of men who know not the nature of each thing, but areafraid, if a man shall see the difference, that he shall immediatelybe seized and carried off vanquished. But this is the great matter; toleave to each thing the power which it has, and leaving to it thispower to see what is the worth of the power, and to learn what isthe most excellent of all things, and to pursue this always, to bediligent about this, considering t all other things of secondary valuecompared with this, but yet, as far as we can, not neglecting allthose other things. For we must take care of the eyes also, not asif they were the most excellent thing, but we must take care of themon account of the most excellent thing, because it will not be inits true natural condition, if it does not rightly use the otherfaculties, and prefer some things to others.  What then is usually done? Men generally act as a traveler woulddo on his way to his own country, when he enters a good inn, and beingpleased with it should remain there. Man, you have forgotten yourpurpose: you were not traveling to this inn, but you were pass throughit. "But this is a pleasant inn." And how many other inns arepleasant? and how many meadows are pleasant? yet only passing through.But your purpose is this, return to your country, to relieve yourkinsmen of anxiety, to discharge the duties of a citizen, to marry, tobeget children, to fill the usual magistracies. For you are not cometo select more pleasant places, but to live in these where you wereborn and of which you were made a citizen. Something of the kind takesplace in the matter which we are considering. Since, by the aid ofspeech and such communication as you receive here, you must advance toperfection, and purge your will, and correct the faculty which makesuse of the appearances of things; and since it is necessary also forthe teaching of theorems to be effected by a certain mode ofexpression and with a certain variety and sharpness, some personscaptivated by these very things abide in them, one captivated by theexpression, another by syllogisms, another again by sophisms, andstill another by some other inn of the kind; and there they stay andwaste away as if they were among Sirens.  Man, your purpose was to make yourself capable of usingconformably to nature the appearances presented to you, in yourdesires not to be frustrated, in your aversion from things not to fallinto that which you would avoid, never to have no luck, nor ever tohave bad luck, to be free, not hindered, not compelled, conformingyourself to the administration of Zeus, obeying it, well satisfiedwith this, blaming no one, charging no one with fault, able fromyour whole soul to utter these verses:     "Lead me, O Zeus, and thou, too, Destiny."Then having this purpose before you, if some little form of expressionpleases you, if some theorems please you, do you abide among themand choose t dwell o well there, forgetting the things at home, and doyou say, "These things are fine"? Who says that they are not fine? butonly as being a way home, as inns are. For what hinders you from beingan unfortunate man, even if you speak like Demosthenes? and whatprevents you, if you can resolve syllogisms like Chrysippus, frombeing wretched, from sorrowing, from envying, in a word, from beingdisturbed, from being unhappy? Nothing. You see then that these wereinns, worth nothing; and that the purpose before you was somethingelse. When I speak thus to some persons, they think that I amrejecting care about speaking, or care about theorems. I am notrejecting this care, but I am rejecting the abiding about these thingsincessantly and putting our hopes in them. If a man by this teachingdoes harm to those who listen to him, reckon me too among those who dothis harm: for I am not able, when I see one thing which is mostexcellent and supreme, to say that another is so, in order to pleaseyou.  CHAPTER 24  To a person who was one of those who was not valued by him  A certain person said to him: "Frequently I desired to hear youand came to you, and you never gave me any answer: and now, if it ispossible, I entreat you to say something to me." Do you think, saidEpictetus, that as there is an art in anything else, so there isalso an art in speaking, and that he who has the art, will speakskillfully, and he who has not, will speak unskillfully? "I do thinkso." He, then, who by speaking receives benefit himself and is able tobenefit others, will speak skillfully: but he who is rather damaged byspeaking and does damage to others, will he be unskilled in this artof speaking? And you may find that some are damaged and othersbenefited by speaking. And are all who hear benefited by what theyhear? Or will you find that among them also some are benefited andsome damaged? "There are both among these also," he said. In this casealso, then, those who hear skillfully are benefited, and those whohear unskillfully are damaged? He admitted this. Is there then a skillin hearing also, as there is in speaking? "It seems so." If youchoose, consider the matter in this way also. The practice of music,to whom does it belong? "To a musician." And the proper making of astatue, to whom do you think that it belongs? "To a statuary." And thelooking at a statue skillfully, does this appear to you to require theaid of no art? "This also requires the aid of art." Then if speakingproperly is the business of the skillful man, do you see that tohear also with benefit is the business of the skillful man? Now asto speaking and hearing perfectly, and usefully, let us for thepresent, if you please, say no more, for both of us are a long wayfrom everything of the kind. But I think that every man will allowthis, that he who is going to hear philosophers requires some amountof practice in hearing. Is it not so?  Tell me then about what I should talk to you: about what matterare you able to listen? "About good and evil." Good and evil inwhat? In a horse? "No." Well, in an ox? "No." What then? In a man?"Yes." Do know then what a man is, what the notion is that we haveof him, or have we our ears in any degree practiced about this matter?But do you understand what nature is? or can you even in any degreeunderstand me when I say, "I shall use demonstration to you?" How?Do you understand this very thing, what demonstration is, or howanything is demonstrated, or by what means; or what things are likedemonstration, but are not demonstration? Do you know what is trueor what is false? What is consequent on a thing, what is repugnantto a thing, or not consistent, or inconsistent? But must I exciteyou to philosophy, and how? Shall I show to you the repugnance inthe opinions of most men, through which they differ about thingsgood and evil, and about things which are profitable and unprofitable,when you know not this very thing, what repugnance is? Show me thenwhat I shall accomplish by discoursing with you; excite my inclinationto do this. As the grass which is suitable, when it is presented toa sheep, moves its inclination to eat, but if you present to it astone or bread, it will not be moved to eat; so there are in uscertain natural inclinations also to speak, when the hearer shallappear to be somebody, when he himself shall excite us: but when heshall sit by us like a stone or like grass, how can he excite aman's desire? Does the vine say to the husbandman, "Take care ofme?" No, but the vine by showing in itself that it will beprofitable to the husbandman, if he does take care of it, inviteshim to exercise care. When children are attractive and lively, whom dothey not invite to play with them, and crawl with them, and lispwith them? But who is eager to play with an ass or to bray with it?for though it is small, it is still a little ass.  "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, andwhat is this world, and with whom he is associated, and what thingsare the good and the bad, and the beautiful and the ugly, and whoneither understands discourse nor demonstration, nor what is truenor what is false, and who is not able to distinguish them, willneither desire according to nature, nor turn away, nor move upward,nor intend, nor assent, nor dissent, nor suspend his judgment: tosay all in a few words, he will go about dumb and blind, thinking thathe 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 errorsand misfortunes have arisen through this ignorance? Why didAgamemnon and Achilles quarrel with one another? Was it not throughnot knowing what things are profitable and not profitable? Does notthe one say it is profitable to restore Chryseis to her father, anddoes not the other say that it is not profitable? does not the one saythat he ought to take the prize of another, and does not the other saythat he ought not? Did they not for these reasons forget both who theywere and for what purpose they had come there? Oh, man, for whatpurpose did you come? to gain mistresses or to fight? "To fight." Withwhom? the Trojans or the Hellenes? "With the Trojans." Do you thenleave Hector alone and draw your sword against your own king? And doyou, most excellent Sir, neglect the duties of the king, you who arethe people's guardian and have such cares; and are you quarrelingabout a little girl with the most warlike of your allies, whom youought by every means to take care of and protect? and do you becomeworse than a well-behaved priest who treats you these finegladiators with all respect? Do you see what kind of thingsignorance of what is profitable does?  "But I also am rich." Are you then richer than Agamemnon? "But Iam also handsome." Are you then more handsome than Achilles? "But Ihave also beautiful hair." But had not Achilles more beautiful hairand gold-colored? and he did not comb it elegantly nor dress it."But I am also strong." Can you then lift so great a stone as Hectoror Ajax? "But I am also of noble birth." Are you the son of agoddess mother? are you the son of a father sprung from Zeus? Whatgood then do these things do to him, when he sits and weeps for agirl? "But I am an orator." And was he not? Do you not see how hehandled the most skillful of the Hellenes in oratory, Odysseus andPhoenix? how he stopped their mouths?  This is all that I have to say to you; and I say even this notwillingly. "Why?" Because you have not roused me. For what must I lookto in order to be roused, as men who are expert in are roused bygenerous 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 yourselfworthy of hearing or fit for hearing; and you will see how you willmove the speaker.  CHAPTER 25  That logic is necessary  When one of those who were present said, "Persuade me that logicis necessary," he replied: Do you wish me to prove this to you? Theanswer was, "Yes." Then I must use a demonstrative form of speech.This was granted. How then will you know if I am cheating you byargument? The man was silent. Do you see, said Epictetus, that youyourself are admitting that logic is necessary, if without it youcannot know so much as this, whether logic is necessary or notnecessary  CHAPTER 26  What is the property of error  Every error comprehends contradiction: for since he who errs doesnot wish to err, but to he right, it is plain that he does not do whathe wishes. For what does the thief wish to do? That which is for hisown interest. If, then, the theft is not for his interest, he does notdo that which he wishes. But every rational: soul is by natureoffended at contradiction, and so long as it does not understandthis contradiction, it is not hindered from doing contradictorythings: but when it does understand the contradiction, it must ofnecessity avoid the contradiction and avoid it as much as a man mustdissent from the false when he sees that a thing is false; but so longas this falsehood does not appear to him, he assents to it as totruth.  He, then, is strong in argument and has the faculty of exhorting andconfuting, who is able to show to each man the contradiction throughwhich he errs and clearly to prove how he does not do that which hewishes and does that which he does not wish. For if any one shall showthis, a man will himself withdraw from that which he does; but so longas you do not show this, do not be surprised if a man persists inhis practice; for having the appearance of doing right, he does whathe does. For this reason Socrates, also trusting to this power, usedto say, "I am used to call no other witness of what I say, but I amalways satisfied with him with whom I am discussing, and I ask himto give his opinion and call him as a witness, and through he isonly one, he is sufficient in the place of all." For Socrates knewby what the rational soul is moved, just like a pair of scales, andthat it must incline, whether it chooses or not. Show the rationalgoverning faculty a contradiction, and it will withdraw from it; butif you do not show it, rather blame yourself than him who is notpersuaded.DISCOURSES                                   BOOK THREE  CHAPTER 1  Of finery in dress  A certain young man a rhetorician came to see Epictetus, with hishair dressed more carefully than was usual and his attire in anornamental style; whereupon Epictetus said: Tell me you do not thinkthat some dogs are beautiful and some horses, and so of all otheranimals. "I do think so," the youth replied. Are not then some menalso beautiful and others ugly? "Certainly." Do we, then, for the samereason call each of them in the same kind beautiful, or each beautifulfor something peculiar? And you will judge of this matter thus.Since we see a dog naturally formed for one thing, and a horse foranother, and for another still, as an example, a nightingale, we maygenerally and not improperly declare each of them to be beautiful thenwhen it is most excellent according to its nature; but since thenature of each is different, each of them seems to me to bebeautiful 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 thatwhich makes a horse beautiful, makes a dog ugly, if it is true thattheir natures are different. "It seems to be so." For I think thatwhat makes a pancratiast beautiful, makes a wrestler to be not good,and a runner to be most ridiculous; and he who is beautiful for thePentathlon, is very ugly for wrestling. "It is so," said he. What,then, makes a man beautiful? Is that which in its kind makes both adog and a horse beautiful? "It is," he said. What then makes a dogbeautiful? The possession of the excellence of a dog. And what makes ahorse beautiful? The possession of the excellence of a horse. Whatthen makes a man beautiful? Is it not the possession of the excellenceof a man? And do you, then, if you wish to be beautiful, young man,labour at this, the acquisition of human excellence. But what is this?Observe whom you yourself praise, when you praise many persons withoutpartiality: do you praise the just or the unjust? "The just."Whether do you praise the moderate or the immoderate? "Themoderate." And the temperate or the intemperate? "The temperate."If, then, you make yourself such a person, you will know that you willmake yourself beautiful: but so long as you neglect these things,you must be ugly, even though you contrive all you can to appearbeautiful.  Further I do not know what to say to you: for if I say to you what Ithink, I shall offend you, and you will perhaps leave the school andnot return to it: and if I do not say what I think, see how I shall beacting, if you come to me to be improved, and I shall not improveyou at all, and if you come to me as to a philosopher, and I shall saynothing to you as a philosopher. And how cruel it is to you to leaveyou uncorrected. If at any time afterward you shall acquire sense, youwill with good reason blame me and say, "What did Epictetus observe inme that, when he saw me in such a plight coming to him in such ascandalous condition, he neglected me and never said a word? did he somuch despair of me? was I not young? was I not able to listen toreason? and how many other young men at this age commit many likeerrors? I hear that a certain Polemon from being a most dissoluteyouth underwent such a great change. Well, suppose that he did notthink that I should be a Polemon; yet he might have set my hair right,he might have stripped off my decorations, he might have stopped mefrom plucking the hair out of my body; but when he saw me dressedlike- what shall I say?- he kept silent." I do not say like what;but you will say, when you come to your senses and shall know whatit is and what persons use such a dress.  If you bring this charge against me hereafter, what defense shallI make? Why, shall I say that the man will not be persuaded by me? WasLaius persuaded by Apollo? Did he and get drunk and show no care forthe oracle? Well then, for this reason did Apollo refuse to tell himthe truth? I indeed do not know, whether you will be persuaded by meor not; but Apollo knew most certainly that Laius would not bepersuaded and yet he spoke. But why did he speak? I say in reply:But why is he Apollo, and why does he deliver oracles, and why hashe fixed himself in this place as a prophet and source of truth andfor the inhabitants of the world to resort to him? and why are thewords "Know yourself" written in front of the temple, though no persontakes any notice of them?  Did Socrates persuade all his hearers to take care of themselves?Not the thousandth part. But, however, after he had been placed inthis position by the deity, as he himself says, he never left it.But what does he say even to his judges? "If you acquit me on theseconditions that I no longer do that which I do now, I will not consentand I will not desist; but I will go up both to young and to old, and,to speak plainly, to every man whom I meet, and I will ask thequestions which I ask now; and most particularly will I do this to youmy fellow-citizens, because you are more nearly related to me." Areyou so curious, Socrates, and such a busybody? and how does it concernyou how we act? and what is it that you say? "Being of the samecommunity and of the same kin, you neglect yourself, and show yourselfa bad citizen to the state, and a bad kinsman to your kinsmen, and abad neighbor to your neighbors." "Who, then are you?" Here it is agreat thing to say, "I am he whose duty it is to take care of men; forit is not every little heifer which dares to resist a lion; but if thebull comes up and resists him, say to the bull, if you choose, 'Andwho are you, and what business have you here?'" Man, in every kindthere is produced something which excels; in oxen, in dogs, in bees,in horses. Do not then say to that which excels, "Who, then, are you?"If you do, it will find a voice in some way and say, "I am such athing as the purple in a garment: do not expect me to be like theothers, or blame my nature that it has made me different from the restof men."  What then? am I such a man? Certainly not. And are you such a man ascan listen to the truth? I wish you were. But however since in amanner I have been condemned to wear a white beard and a cloak, andyou come to me as to a philosopher, I will not treat you in a cruelway nor yet as if I despaired of you, but I will say: Young man,whom do you wish to make beautiful? In the first place, know who youare and then adorn yourself appropriately. You are a human being;and this is a mortal animal which has the power of using appearancesrationally. But what is meant by "rationally?" Conformably to natureand completely. What, then, do you possess which is peculiar? Is itthe animal part? No. Is it the condition of mortality? No. Is it thepower of using appearances? No. You possess the rational faculty asa peculiar thing: adorn and beautify this; but leave your hair tohim who made it as he chose. Come, what other appellations have you?Are you man or woman? "Man." Adorn yourself then as man, not as woman.Woman is naturally smooth and delicate; and if she has much hair (onher body), she is a monster and is exhibited at Rome among monsters.And in a man it is monstrous not to have hair; and if he has nohair, he is a monster; but if he cuts off his hairs and plucks themout, what shall we do with him? where shall we exhibit him? andunder what name shall we show him? "I will exhibit to you a man whochooses to be a woman rather than a man." What a terrible sight! Thereis no man who will not wonder at such a notice. Indeed I think thatthe men who pluck out their hairs do what they do without knowing whatthey do. Man what fault have you to find with your nature? That itmade you a man? What then? was it fit that nature should make allhuman creatures women? and what advantage in that case would youhave had in being adorned? for whom would you have adorned yourself,if all human creatures were women? But you are not pleased with thematter: set to work then upon the whole business. Take away- what isits name?- that which is the cause of the hairs: make yourself a womanin all respects, that we may not be mistaken: do not make one halfman, and the other half woman. Whom do you wish to please? The women?,Please them as a man. "Well; but they like smooth men." Will you nothang yourself? and if women took delight in catamites, would youbecome one? Is this your business? were you born for this purpose,that dissolute women should delight in you? Shall we make such a oneas you a citizen of Corinth and perchance a prefect of the city, orchief of the youth, or general or superintendent of the games? Well,and when you have taken a wife, do you intend to have your hairsplucked out? To please whom and for what purpose? And when you havebegotten children, will you introduce them also into the state withthe habit of plucking their hairs? A beautiful citizen, and senatorand rhetorician. We ought to pray that such young men be born among usand brought up.  Do not so, I entreat you by the Gods, young man: but when you haveonce heard these words, go away and say to yourself, "Epictetus hasnot said this to me; for how could he? but some propitious goodthrough him: for it would never have come into his thoughts to saythis, since he is not accustomed to talk thus with any person. Comethen let us obey God, that we may not be subject to his anger." Yousay, "No." But, if a crow by his croaking signifies anything to you,it is not the crow which signifies, but God through the crow; and ifhe signifies anything through a human voice, will he not cause the manto say this to you, that you may know the power of the divinity,that he signifies to some in this way, and to others in that way,and concerning the greatest things and the chief he signifiesthrough the noblest messenger? What else is it which the poet says:    For we ourselves have warned him, and have sent    Hermes the careful watcher, Argus' slayer,    The husband not to kill nor wed the wife.Was Hermes going to descend from heaven to say this to him? And nowthe Gods say this to you and send the messenger, the slayer ofArgus, to warn you not to pervert that which is well arranged, norto busy yourself about it, but to allow a man to be a man, and a womanto be a woman, a beautiful man to be as a beautiful man, and an uglyman as an ugly man, for you are not flesh and hair, but you arewill; and if your will beautiful, then you will be beautiful. But upthe present time I dare not tell you that you are ugly, for I thinkthat you are readier to hear anything than this. But see what Socratessays to the most beautiful and blooming of men Alcibiades: "Try, then,to be beautiful." What does he say to him? "Dress your hair andpluck the hairs from your legs." Nothing of that kind. But "Adorn yourwill, take away bad opinions." "How with the body?" Leave it as itis by nature. Another has looked after these things: intrust them tohim. "What then, must a man be uncleaned?" Certainly not; but what youare and are made by nature, cleanse this. A man should be cleanly as aman, a woman as a woman, a child as a child. You say no: but let usalso pluck out the lion's mane, that he may not be uncleaned, andthe cock's comb for he also ought to he cleaned. Granted, but as acock, and the lion as a lion, and the hunting dog as a hunting dog.  CHAPTER 2  In what a man ought to be exercised who has made proficiency; andthat we neglect the chief things  There are three things in which a man ought to exercise himselfwho would be wise and good. The first concerns the desires and theaversions, that a man may not fail to get what he desires, and that hemay not fall into that which he does not desire. The second concernsthe movements (toward) and the movements from an object, and generallyin doing what a man ought to do, that he may act according to order,to reason, and not carelessly. The third thing concerns freedom fromdeception and rashness in judgement, and generally it concerns theassents. Of these topics the chief and the most urgent is that whichrelates to the affects; for an affect is produced in no other way thanby a failing to obtain that which a man desires or a falling into thatwhich a man would wish to avoid. This is that which brings inperturbations, disorders, bad fortune, misfortunes, sorrows,lamentations and envy; that which makes men envious and jealous; andby these causes we are unable even to listen to the precepts ofreason. The second topic concerns the duties of a man; for I ought notto be free from affects like a statue, but I ought to maintain therelations natural and acquired, as a pious man, as a son, as a father,as a citizen.  The third topic is that which immediately concerns those who aremaking 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, "isabove our power." But the present philosophers neglecting the firsttopic and the second, employ themselves on the third, usingsophistical arguments, making conclusions from questioning,employing hypotheses, lying. "For a man must," as it is said, "whenemployed on these matters, take care that he is not deceived." Whomust? The wise and good man. This then is all that is wanting toyou. Have you successfully worked out the rest? Are you free fromdeception in the matter of money? If you see a beautiful girl, doyou resist the appearance? If your neighbor obtains an estate by will,are you not vexed? Now is there nothing else wanting to you exceptunchangeable firmness of mind? Wretch, you hear these very things withfear and anxiety that some person may despise you, and withinquiries about what any person may say about you. And if a man comeand tell you that in a certain conversation in which the question was,"Who is the best philosopher," a man who was present said that acertain person was the chief philosopher, your little soul which wasonly a finger's length stretches out to two cubits. But if another whois present "You are mistaken; it is not worth while to listen to acertain person, for what does he know? he has only the firstprinciples, and no more?" then you are confounded, you grow pale,you cry out immediately, "I will show him who I am, that I am agreat philosopher." It is seen by these very things: why do you wishto show it by others? Do you not know that Diogenes pointed out one ofthe sophists in this way by stretching out his middle finger? And thenwhen the man was wild with rage, "This," he said, "is the certainperson: I pointed him out to you." For a man is not shown by thefinger, as a stone or a piece of wood: but when any person shows theman s principles, then he shows him as a man.  Let us look at your principles also. For is it not plain that youvalue not at all your own will, but you look externally to thingswhich are independent of your will? For instance, what will acertain person say? and what will people think of you? will you beconsidered a man of learning; have you read Chrysippus or Antipater?for if you have read Archedemus also, you have everything. Why are youstill uneasy lest you should not show us who you are? Would you let metell you what manner of man you have shown us that you are? You haveexhibited yourself to us as a mean fellow, querulous, passionate,cowardly, finding fault with everything, blaming everybody, neverquiet, vain: this is what you have exhibited to us. Go away now andread Archedemus; 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 wasthe man's name?- Crinis; and he too was proud, because he understoodArchedemus.  Wretch, will you not dismiss these things that do not concern you atall? These things are suitable to those who are able to learn themwithout perturbation, to those who can say: "I am not subject toanger, to grief, to envy: I am not hindered, I am not restrained. Whatremains for me? I have leisure, I am tranquil: let us see how wemust deal with sophistical arguments; let us see how when a man hasaccepted an hypothesis he shall not be led away to anything absurd."To them such things belong. To those who are happy it is appropriateto 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.  CHAPTER 3  What is the matter on which a good man should he employed, and inwhat we ought chiefly to practice 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; theland is the matter for the husbandman. The business of the wise andgood man is to use appearances conformably to nature: and as it is thenature of every soul to assent to the truth, to dissent from thefalse, and to remain in suspense as to that which is uncertain; soit is its nature to be moved toward the desire of the good, and toaversion from the evil; and with respect to that which is neither goodnor bad it feels indifferent. For as the money-changer is notallowed to reject Caesar's coin, nor the seller of herbs, but if youshow the coin, whether he chooses or not, he must give up what is soldfor the coin; so it is also in the matter of the soul. When the goodappears, it immediately attracts to itself; the evil repels fromitself. But the soul will never reject the manifest appearance ofthe good, any more than persons will reject Caesar's coin. On thisprinciple depends every movement both of man and God.  For this reason the good is preferred to every intimaterelationship. There is no intimate relationship between me and myfather, but there is between me and the good. "Are you sohard-hearted?" Yes, for such is my nature; and this is the coinwhich God has given me. For this reason, if the good is somethingdifferent from the beautiful and the just, both father is gone, andbrother and country, and everything. But shall I overlook my own good,in order that you may have it, and shall I give it up to you? Why?"I am your father." But you are not my good. "I am your brother."But you are not my good. But if we place the good in a rightdetermination of the will, the very observance of the relations oflife is good, and accordingly he who gives up any external thingsobtains that which is good. Your father takes away your property.But he does not injure you. Your brother will have the greater part ofthe estate in land. Let him have as much as he chooses. Will he thenhave a greater share of modesty, of fidelity, of brotherlyaffection? For who will eject you from this possession? Not even Zeus,for neither has he chosen to do so; but he has made this in my ownpower, and he has given it to me just as he possessed it himself, freefrom hindrance, compulsion, and impediment. When then the coin whichanother uses is a different coin, if a man presents this coin, hereceives that which is sold for it. Suppose that there comes intothe province a thievish proconsul, what coin does he use? Silver coin.Show it to him, and carry off what you please. Suppose one comes whois an adulterer: what coin does he use? Little girls. "Take," a mansays, "the coin, and sell me the small thing." "Give," says theseller, "and buy." Another is eager to possess boys. Give him thecoin, and receive what you wish. Another is fond of hunting: givehim a fine nag or a dog. Though he groans and laments, he will sellfor it that which you want. For another compels him from within, hewho has fixed this coin.  Against this kind of thing chiefly a man should exercise himself. Assoon 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 youseen?" A handsome man or woman? Apply the rule: Is this independent ofthe will, or dependent? Independent. Take it away. What have you seen?A man lamenting over the death of a child. Apply the rule. Death isa thing independent of the will. Take it away. Has the proconsul metyou? Apply the rule. What kind of thing is a proconsul's office?Independent of the will, or dependent on it? Independent. Take thisaway also: it does not stand examination: cast it away: it isnothing to you.  If we practiced this and exercised ourselves in it daily frommorning to night, something indeed would be done. But now we areforthwith caught half-asleep by every appearance, and it is only, ifever, that in the school we are roused a little. Then when we goout, if we see a man lamenting, we say, "He is undone." If we see aconsul, we say, "He is happy." If we see an exiled man, we say, "He ismiserable." If we see a poor man, we say, "He is wretched: he hasnothing to eat."  We ought then to eradicate these bad opinions, and to this end weshould direct all our efforts. For what is weeping and lamenting?Opinion. What is bad fortune? Opinion. What is civil sedition, what isdivided opinion, what is blame, what is accusation, what is impiety,what is trifling? All these things are opinions, and nothing more, andopinions about things independent of the will, as if they were goodand bad. Let a man transfer these opinions to things dependent onthe 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 ofwater, such is the soul. Such as is the ray of light which falls onthe water, such are the appearances. When the water is moved, theray also seems to be moved, yet it is not moved. And when, then, a manis seized with giddiness, it is not the arts and the virtues which areconfounded, but the spirit on which they are impressed; but if thespirit be restored to its settled state, those things also arerestored.  CHAPTER 4  Against a person who showed his partisanship in an unseemly way in atheatre  The governor of Epirus having shown his favor to an actor in anunseemly way and being publicly blamed on this account, andafterward having reported to Epictetus that he was blamed and thathe was vexed at those who blamed him, Epictetus said: What harm havethey been doing? These men also were acting, as partisans, as you weredoing. The governor replied, "Does, then, any person show hispartisanship in this way?" When they see you, said Epictetus, whoare their governor, a friend of Caesar and his deputy, showingpartisanship in this way, was it not to be expected that they alsoshould show their partisanship in the same way? for if it is not rightto show partisanship in this way, do not do so yourself; and if itis right, why are you angry if they followed your example? For whomhave the many to imitate except you, who are their superiors, to whoseexample should they look when they go to the theatre except yours?"See how the deputy of Caesar looks on: he has cried out, and I too,then, will cry out. He springs up from his seat, and I will spring up.His slaves sit in various parts of the theatre and call out. I have noslaves, but I will myself cry out as much as I can and as loud asall of them together." You ought then to know when you enter thetheatre that you enter as a rule and example to the rest how theyought to look at the acting. Why then did they blame you? Becauseevery man hates that which is a hindrance to him. They wished oneperson to be crowned; you wished another. They were a hindrance toyou, and you were a hindrance to them. You were found to be thestronger; and they did what they could; they blamed that whichhindered them. What, then, would you have? That you should do what youplease, and they should not even say what they please? And what is thewonder? Do not the husbandmen abuse Zeus when they are hindered byhim? do not the sailors abuse him? do they ever cease abusingCaesar? What then does not Zeus know? is not what is said reportedto Caesar? What, then, does he do? he knows that, if he punished allwho abuse him, he would have nobody to rule over. What then? whenyou enter the theatre, you ought to say not, "Let Sophron be crowned",but you ought to say this, "Come let me maintain my will in thismatter so that it shall be conformable to nature: no man is dearerto me than myself. It would be ridiculous, then, for me to be hurt(injured) in order that another who is an actor may be crowned." Whomthen do I wish to gain the prize? Why the actor who does gain theprize; and so he will always gain the prize whom I wish to gain it."But I wish Sophron to be crowned." Celebrate as many games as youchoose in your own house, Nemean, Pythian, Isthmian, Olympian, andproclaim him victor. But in public do not claim more than your due,nor attempt to appropriate to yourself what belongs to all. If youdo not consent to this, bear being abused: for when you do the same asthe many, you put yourself on the same level with them.  CHAPTER 5  Against those who on account of sickness go away home  "I am sick here," said one of the pupils, "and I wish to returnhome." At home, I suppose, you free from sickness. Do you not considerwhether you are doing, anything here which may be useful to theexercise of your will, that it may be corrected? For if you aredoing nothing toward this end, it was to no purpose that you came.Go away. Look after your affairs at home. For if your ruling powercannot be maintained in a state conformable to nature, it ispossible that your land can, that you will he able to increase yourmoney, you will take care of your father in his old age, frequentthe public place, hold magisterial office: being bad you will do badlyanything else that you have to do. But if you understand yourself, andknow that you are casting away certain bad opinions and adoptingothers in their place, and if you have changed your state of life fromthings which are not within your will to things which are withinyour will, and if you ever say, "Alas!" you are not saying what yousay on account of your father, or your brother, but on account ofyourself, do you still allege your sickness? Do you not know that bothdisease and death must surprise us while we are doing something? thehusbandman while he is tilling the ground, the sailor while he is onhis voyage? what would you be doing when death surprises you, foryou must be surprised when you are doing something? If you can bedoing anything better than this when you are surprised, do it. For Iwish to be surprised by disease or death when I am looking afternothing else than my that may be free from perturbation, own will thatI may be free from hindrance, free from compulsion, and in a stateof liberty. I wish to be found practicing these things that I may beable to say to God, "Have I in any respect transgressed thycommands? have I in any respect wrongly used the powers which Thougavest me? have I misused my perceptions or my preconceptions? haveI ever blamed Thee? have I ever found fault with Thy administration? Ihave been sick, because it was Thy will, and so have others, but I wascontent to be sick. I have been poor because it was Thy will, but Iwas content also. I have not filled a magisterial office, because itwas not Thy pleasure that I should: I have never desired it. Hast Thouever seen me for this reason discontented? have I not alwaysapproached Thee with a cheerful countenance, ready to do Thycommands and to obey Thy signals? Is it now Thy will that I shoulddepart from the assemblage of men? I depart. I give Thee all thanksthat Thou hast allowed me to join in this Thy assemblage of men and tosee Thy works, and to comprehend this Thy administration." May deathsurprise me while I am thinking of these things, while I am thuswriting and reading.  "But my mother will not hold my head when I am sick." Go to yourmother then; for you are a fit person to have your head held whenyou are sick. "But at home I used to lie down on a delicious bed."Go away to your bed: indeed you are fit to lie on such a bed even whenyou are in health: do not, then, lose what you can do there.  But what does Socrates say? "As one man," he says, "is pleasedwith improving his land, another with improving his horse, so I amdaily pleased in observing that I am growing better." "Better in what?in using nice little words?" Man, do not say that. "In littlematters of speculation?" What are you saying? "And indeed I do not seewhat else there is on which philosophers employ their time." Does itseem nothing to you to have never found fault with any person, neitherwith God nor man? to have blamed nobody? to carry the same face alwaysin going out and coming in? This is what Socrates knew, and yet henever said that he knew anything or taught anything. But if any manasked for nice little words or little speculations, he would carry himto Protagoras or to Hippias; and if any man came to ask for pot-herbs,he would carry him to the gardener. Who then among you has thispurpose? for if indeed you had it, you would both be content insickness, and in hunger, and in death. If any among you has been inlove with a charming girl, he knows that I say what is true.  CHAPTER 6  Miscellaneous  When some person asked him how it happened that since reason hasbeen more cultivated by the men of the present age, the progressmade in former times was greater. In what respect, he answered, has itbeen more cultivated now, and in what respect was the progress greaterthen? For in that in which it has now been more cultivated, in thatalso the progress will now be found. At present it has been cultivatedfor the purpose of resolving syllogisms, and progress is made. Butin former times it was cultivated for the purpose of maintaining thegoverning faculty in a condition conformable to nature, and progresswas made. Do not, then, mix things which are different and do notexpect, when you are laboring at one thing, to make progress inanother. But see if any man among us when he is intent see I uponthis, the keeping himself in a state conformable to nature andliving so always, does not make progress. For you will not find such aman.  The good man is invincible, for he does not enter the contestwhere he is not stronger. If you want to have his land and all that ison it, take the land; take his slaves, take his magisterial office,take his poor body. But you will not make his desire fail in thatwhich it seeks, nor his aversion fall into that which he wouldavoid. The only contest into which he enters is that about thingswhich are within the power of his will; how then will he not beinvincible?  Some person having asked him what is Common sense, Epictetusreplied: As that may be called a certain Common hearing which onlydistinguishes vocal sounds, and that which distinguishes musicalsounds is not Common, but artificial; so there are certain thingswhich men, who are not altogether perverted, see by the common notionswhich all possess. Such a constitution of the mind is named Commonsense.  It is not easy to exhort weak young men; for neither is it easy tohold cheese with a hook. But those who have a good naturaldisposition, even if you try to turn them aside, cling still more toreason. Wherefore Rufus generally attempted to discourage, and he usedthis method as a test of those who had a good natural dispositionand those who had not. "For," it was his habit to say, "as a stone, ifyou cast it upward, will be brought down to the earth by its ownnature, so the man whose mind is naturally good, the more you repelhim, the more he turns toward that to which he is naturally inclined."  CHAPTER 7  To the administrator of the free cities who was an Epicurean  When the administrator came to visit him, and the man was anEpicurean, Epictetus said: It is proper for us who are notphilosophers to inquire of you who are philosophers, as those who cometo a strange city inquire of the citizens and those who are acquaintedwith 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 threethings which relate to man, soul, body, and things external,scarcely any man denies. It remains for you philosophers to answerwhat is the best. What shall we say to men? Is the flesh the best? andwas it for this that Maximus sailed as far as Cassiope in winterwith his son, and accompanied him that he might be gratified in theflesh? Then the man said that it was not, and added, "Far be that fromhim." Is it not fit then, Epictetus said, to be actively employedabout the best? "It is certainly of all things the most fit." What,then, do we possess which is better than the flesh? "The soul," hereplied. And the good things of the best, are they better, or the goodthings of the worse? "The good things of the best." And are the goodthings of the best within the power of the will or not within thepower 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? Onitself? But that cannot be conceived: for there must first exist acertain substance or nature of good, by obtaining which we shallhave pleasure in the soul. He assented to this also. On what, then,shall we depend for this pleasure of the soul? for if it shalldepend on things of the soul, the substance of the good is discovered;for good cannot be one thing, and that at which we are rationallydelighted another thing; nor if that which precedes is not good, canthat which comes after be good, for in order that the thing whichcomes after may be good, that which precedes must be good. But youwould not affirm this, if you are in your right mind, for you wouldthen say what is inconsistent both with Epicurus and the rest ofyour doctrines. It remains, then, that the pleasure of the soul isin the pleasure from things of the body: and again that those bodilythings must be the things which precede and the substance of the good.  For this reason Maximus acted foolishly if he made the voyage forany other reason than for the sake of the flesh, that is, for the sakeof the best. And also a man acts foolishly if he abstains from thatwhich belongs to others, when he is a judge and able to take it.But, if you please, let us consider this only, how this thing may bedone secretly, and safely, and so that no man will know it. For noteven does Epicurus himself declare stealing to be bad, but he admitsthat detection is; and because it is impossible to have securityagainst detection, for this reason he says, "Do not steal." But Isay to you that if stealing is done cleverly and cautiously, weshall not be detected: further also we have powerful friends in Romeboth men and women, and the Hellenes are weak, and no man will ventureto go up to Rome for the purpose. Why do you refrain from your owngood? This is senseless, foolish. But even if you tell me that youdo refrain, I will not believe you. For as it is impossible toassent to that which appears false, and to turn away from that whichis true, so it is impossible to abstain from that which appearsgood. But wealth is a good thing, and certainly most efficient inproducing pleasure. Why will you not acquire wealth? And why should wenot corrupt our neighbor's wife, if we can do it without detection?and if the husband foolishly prates about the matter, why not pitchhim out of the house? If you would be a philosopher such as youought to be, if a perfect philosopher, if consistent with your owndoctrines. If you would not, you will not differ at all from us whoare called Stoics; for we also say one thing, but we do another: wetalk of the things which are beautiful, but we do what is base. Butyou will be perverse in the contrary way, teaching what is bad,practicing what is good.  In the name of God, are you thinking of a city of Epicureans? "Ido not marry." "Nor I, for a man ought not to marry; nor ought we tobeget children, nor engage in public matters." What then willhappen? whence will the citizens come? who will bring them up? whowill be governor of the youth, who preside wi over gymnasticexercises? and in what also will the teacher instruct them? will heteach them what the Lacedaemonians were taught, or what theAthenians were taught? Come take a young man, bring him up accordingto your doctrines. The doctrines are bad, subversive of a state,pernicious to families, and not becoming to women. Dismiss them,man. You live in a chief city: it is your duty to be a magistrate,to judge justly, to abstain from that which belongs to others; nowoman ought to seem beautiful to you except your own wife, and noyouth, no vessel of silver, no vessel of gold. Seek for doctrineswhich are consistent with what I say, and, by making them yourguide, you will with pleasure abstain from things which have suchpersuasive power to lead us and overpower us. But if to the persuasivepower of these things, we also devise such a philosophy as thiswhich helps to push us on toward them and strengthens us to thisend, what will be the consequence? In a piece of toreutic art which isthe best part? the silver or the workmanship? The substance of thehand is the flesh; but the work of the hand is the principal part. Theduties then are also three; those which are directed toward theexistence of a thing; those which are directed toward its existence ina particular kind; and third, the chief or leading thingsthemselves. So also in man we ought not to value the material, thepoor flesh, but the principal. What are these? Engaging in publicbusiness, marrying, begetting children, venerating God, taking care ofparents, and, generally, having desires, aversions, pursuits of thingsand avoidances, in the way in which we ought to do these things, andaccording to our nature. And how are we constituted by nature? Free,noble, modest: for what other animal blushes? what other is capable ofreceiving the appearance of shame? and we are so constituted by natureas to subject pleasure to these things, as a minister, a servant, inorder that it may call forth our activity, in order that it may keepus constant in acts which are conformable to nature.  "But I am rich and I want nothing." Why, then, do you pretend tobe a philosopher? Your golden and your silver vessels are enough foryou. What need have you of principles? "But I am also a judge of theGreeks." Do you know how to judge? Who taught you to know? "Caesarwrote to me a codicil." Let him write and give you a commission tojudge of music; and what will be the use of it to you? Still how didyou become a judge? whose hand did you kiss? the hand of Symphorusor Numenius? Before whose bedchamber have you slept? To whom haveyou sent gifts? Then do you not see that to be a judge is just ofthe same value as Numenius is? "But I can throw into prison any manwhom I please." So you can do with a stone. "But I can beat withsticks whom I please." So you may an ass. This is not a governing ofmen. Govern us as rational animals: show us what is profitable tous, and we will follow it: show us what is unprofitable, and we willturn away from it. Make us imitators of yourself, as Socrates made menimitators of himself. For he was like a governor of men, who made themsubject to him their desires, their aversion, their movements towardan object and their turning away from it. "Do this: do not do this: ifyou do not obey, I will throw you into prison." This is notgoverning men like rational animals. But I: As Zeus has ordained, soact: if you do not act so, you will feel the penalty, you will bepunished. What will be the punishment? Nothing else than not havingdone your duty: you will lose the character of fidelity, modesty,propriety. Do not look for greater penalties than these.  CHAPTER 8  How we must exercise ourselves against appearances  As we exercise ourselves against sophistical questions, so weought to exercise ourselves daily against appearances; for theseappearances also propose questions to us. "A certain person son isdead." Answer: the thing is not within the power of the will: it isnot an evil. "A father has disinherited a certain son. What do youthink of it?" It is a thing beyond the power of the will, not an evil."Caesar has condemned a person." It is a thing beyond the power of thewill, not an evil. "The man is afflicted at this." Affliction is athing which depends on the will: it is an evil. He has borne thecondemnation bravely." That is a thing within the power of the will:it is a good. If we train ourselves in this manner, we shall makeprogress; for we shall never assent to anything of which there isnot an appearance capable of being comprehended. Your son is dead.What has happened? Your son is dead. Nothing more? Nothing. Yourship is lost. What has happened? Your ship is lost. A man has been ledto prison. What has happened? He has been led to prison. But thatherein he has fared badly, every man adds from his own opinion. "ButZeus," you say, "does not do right in these matters." Why? becausehe has made you capable of endurance? because he has made youmagnanimous? because he has taken from that which befalls you thepower of being evil? because it is in your power to be happy while youare suffering what you suffer; because he has opened the door toyou, when things do not please you? Man, go out and do not complain.  Hear how the Romans feel toward philosophers, if you would like toknow. Italicus, who was the most in repute of the philosophers, oncewhen I was present being, vexed with his own friends and as if hewas suffering something intolerable said, "I cannot bear it, you arekilling me: you will make me such as that man is"; pointing to me.  CHAPTER 9  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 onaccount of a suit which had regard to his rank, Epictetus inquired thereason of his going to Rome, and the man then asked what he thoughtabout the matter. Epictetus replied: If you ask me what you will do inRome, whether you will succeed or fall, I have no rule about this. Butif you ask me how you will fare, I can tell you: if you have rightopinions, 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 thereason why you desired to be elected governor of the Cnossians? Youropinion. What is the reason that you are now going up to Rome? Youropinion. And going in winter, and with danger and expense. "I mustgo." What tells you this? Your opinion. Then if opinions are thecauses of all actions, and a man has bad opinions, such as the causemay be, such also is the effect. Have we then all sound opinions, bothyou and your adversary? And how do you differ? But have you sounderopinions than your adversary? Why? You think so. And so does hethink that his opinions are better; and so do madmen. This is a badcriterion. But show to me that you have made some inquiry into youropinions and have taken some pains about them. And as now you aresailing to Rome in order to become governor of the Cnossians, andyou are not content to stay at home with the honors which you had, butyou desire something greater and more conspicuous, so when did youever make a voyage for the purpose of examining your own opinions, andcasting them out, if you have any that are bad? Whom have youapproached for this purpose? What time have you fixed for it? Whatage? Go over the times of your life by yourself, if you are ashamed ofme. When you were a boy, did you examine your own opinions? and didyou not then, as you do all things now, do as you did do? and when youwere become a youth and attended the rhetoricians, and yourselfpracticed rhetoric, what did you imagine that you were deficient in?And when you were a young man and engaged in public matters, andpleaded causes yourself, and were gaining reputation, who thenseemed your equal? And when would you have submitted to any manexamining and show that your opinions are bad? What, then, do you wishme 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 meas a philosopher, but as to a seller of vegetables or a shoemaker."For what purpose then have philosophers theorems?" For thispurpose, that whatever may happen, our ruling faculty may be andcontinue to be conformable to nature. Does this seem to you a smallthing? "No; but the greatest." What then? does it need only a shorttime? and is it possible to seize it as you pass by? If you can, seizeit.  Then you will say, "I met with Epictetus as I should meet with astone or a statue": for you saw me, and nothing more. But he meetswith a man as a man, who learns his opinions, and in his turn showshis own. Learn my opinions: show me yours; and then say that youhave visited me. Let us examine one another: if I have any badopinion, take it away; if you have any, show it. This is the meaningof meeting with a philosopher. "Not so, but this is only a passingvisit, and while we are hiring the vessel, we can also seeEpictetus. Let us see what he says." Then you go away and say:"Epictetus was nothing: he used solecisms and spoke in a barbarousway." For of what else do you come as judges? "Well, but a man may sayto me, "If I attend to such matters, I shall have no land, as you havenone; I shall have no silver cups as you have none, nor fine beasts asyou have none." In answer to this it is perhaps sufficient to say: Ihave no need of such things: but if you possess many things you haveneed 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 fromperturbation. Whether I have a patron or not, what is that to me?but it is something to you. I am richer than you: I am not anxiouswhat Caesar will think of me: for this reason, I flatter no man.This is what I possess instead of vessels of silver and gold. You haveutensils of gold; but your discourse, your opinions, your assents,your movements, your desires are of earthen ware. But when I havethese things conformable to nature, why should I not employ my studiesalso upon reason? for I have leisure: my mind is not distracted.What shall I do, since I have no distraction? What more suitable toa man have I than this? When you have nothing to do, you aredisturbed, you go to the theatre or you wander about without apurpose. Why should not the philosopher labour to improve hisreason? You employ yourself about crystal vessels: I employ myselfabout the syllogism named "The Living": you about myrrhine vessels;I employ myself about the syllogism named "The Denying." To youeverything appears small that you possess: to me all that I haveappears great. Your desire is insatiable: mine is satisfied. To(children) who put their hand into a narrow necked earthen vesseland bring out figs and nuts, this happens; if they fill the hand, theycannot take it out, and then they cry. Drop a few of them and you willdraw things out. And do you part with your desires: do not desire manythings and you will have what you want.  CHAPTER 10  In what manner we ought to bear sickness  When the need of each opinion comes, we ought to have it inreadiness: on the occasion of breakfast, such as relate tobreakfast; in the bath, those that concern the bath; in bed, thosethat concern bed.     Let sleep not come upon thy languid eyes     Before each daily action thou hast scann'd;     What's done amiss, what done, what left undone;     From first to last examine all, and then     Blame what is wrong in what is right rejoice.  And we ought to retain these verses in such way that we may usethem, not that we may utter them aloud, as when we exclaim "PaeanApollo." Again in fever we should have ready such opinions asconcern a fever; and we ought not, as soon as the fever begins, tolose and forget all. (A man who has a fever) may "If I philosophizeany longer, may I be hanged: wherever I go, I must take care of thepoor body, that a fever may not come." But what is philosophizing?Is it not a preparation against events which may happen? Do you notunderstand that you are saying something of this kind? "If I shallstill prepare myself to bear with patience what happens, may I behanged." But this is just as if a man after receiving blows shouldgive up the Pancratium. In the Pancratium it is in our power to desistand not to receive blows. But in the other matter, we give upphilosophy, what shall we gain I gain? What then should a man say onthe occasion of each painful thing? "It was for this that Iexercised myself, for this I disciplined myself." God says to you,"Give me a proof that you have duly practiced athletics, that you haveeaten what you ought, that you have been exercised, that you haveobeyed the aliptes." Then do you show yourself weak when the timefor action comes? Now is the time for the fever. Let it be borne well.Now is the time for thirst, well; now is the time for hunger, bearit well. Is it not in your power? who shall hinder you? Thephysician will hinder you from drinking; but he cannot prevent youfrom bearing thirst well: and he will hinder you from eating; but hecannot prevent you from bearing hunger well.  "But I cannot attend to my philosophical studies." And for whatpurpose 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 stateconformable to nature and live so? What hinders you when you have afever from having your ruling faculty conformable to nature? Here isthe proof of the thing, here is the test of the philosopher. Forthis also is a part of life, like walking, like sailing, likejourneying by land, so also is fever. Do you read when you arewalking? No. Nor do you when you have a fever. if you walk about well,you have all that belongs to a man who walks. If you bear feverwell, you have all that belongs to a man in a fever. What is it tobear a fever well? Not to blame God or man; not to be afflicted itthat which happens, to expect death well and nobly, to do what must bedone: when the physician comes in, not to be frightened at what hesays; nor if he says, "You are doing well," to be overjoyed. Forwhat good has he told you? and when you were in health, what goodwas that to you? And even if he says, "You are in a bad way," do notdespond. For what is it to be ill? is it that you are near theseverance of the soul and the body? what harm is there in this? If youare not near now, will you not afterward be near? Is the world goingto be turned upside down when you are dead? Why then do you flatterthe physician? Why do you say, "If you please, master, I shall bewell"? Why do you give him an opportunity of raising his eyebrows?Do you not value a physician, as you do a shoemaker when he ismeasuring 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 bynature dead? He who has a fever has an opportunity of doing this: ifhe does these things, he has what belongs to him. For it is not thebusiness of a philosopher to look after these externals, neither hiswine nor his oil nor his poor body, but his own ruling power. But asto 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, stillreason for anger, and of fear about what belongs to others, aboutthings which are of no value? For we ought to have these twoprinciples in readiness: that except the will nothing is good nor bad;and that we ought not to lead events, but to follow them. "Mybrother ought not to have behaved thus to me." No; but he will seeto that: and, however he may behave, I will conduct myself towardhim as I ought. For this is my own business: that belongs toanother; no man can prevent this, the other thing can be hindered.  CHAPTER 11  Certain miscellaneous matters  There are certain penalties fixed as by law for those who disobeythe divine administration. Whoever thinks any other thing to be goodexcept those things which depend on the will, let him envy, let himdesire, let him flatter, let him be perturbed: whoever considersanything else to be evil, let him grieve, let him lament, let himweep, let him be unhappy. And yet, though so severely punished, wecannot desist.  Remember what the poet says about the stranger:     Stranger, I must not, e'en if a worse man come.This, then, may be applied even to a father: "I must not, even if aworse man than you should come, treat a father unworthily-, for allare from paternal Zeus." And of a brother, "For all are from theZeus who presides over kindred." And so in the other relations of lifewe shall find Zeus to be an inspector.  CHAPTER 12  About exercise  We ought not to make our exercises consist in means contrary tonature and adapted to cause admiration, for, if we do so, we, who callourselves philosophers, shall not differ at all from jugglers. Forit is difficult even to walk on a rope; and not only difficult, but itis also dangerous. Ought we for this reason to practice walking on arope, or setting up a palm tree, or embracing statues? By no means.Everything, which is difficult and dangerous is not suitable forpractice; but that is suitable which conduces to the working out ofthat which is proposed to us as a thing to be worked out. To live withdesire and aversion, free from restraint. And what is this? Neither tobe disappointed in that which you desire, nor to fall into anythingwhich you would avoid. Toward this object, then, exercise ought totend. For, since it is not possible to have your desire notdisappointed and your aversion free from falling into that which youwould avoid, great and constant practice you must know that if youallow your desire and aversion to turn to things which are notwithin the power of the will, you will neither have your desirecapable of attaining your object, nor your aversion free from thepower of avoiding that which you would avoid. And since strong habitleads, and we are accustomed to employ desire and aversion only tothings which are not within the power of our will, we ought tooppose to this habit a contrary habit, and where there is greatslipperiness in the appearances, there to oppose the habit ofexercise.  I am rather inclined to pleasure: I will incline to the contraryside above measure for the sake of exercise. I am averse to pain: Iwill rub and exercise against this the appearances which are presentedto me for the purpose of withdrawing my aversion from every suchthing. For who is a practitioner in exercise? He who practices notusing his desire, and applies his aversion only to things which arewithin the power of his will, and practices most in the things whichare difficult to conquer. For this reason one man must practicehimself more against one thing and another against another thing.What, then, is it to the purpose to set up a palm tree, or to carryabout a tent of skins, or a mortar and a pestle? Practice, man, if youare irritable, to endure if you are abused, not to be vexed if you aretreated with dishonour. Then you will make so much progress that, evenif a man strikes you, you will say to yourself, "Imagine that you haveembraced a statue": then also exercise yourself to use wine properlyso as not to drink much, for in this also there are men whofoolishly practice themselves; but first of all you should abstainfrom it, and abstain from a young girl and dainty cakes. Then at last,if occasion presents itself, for the purpose of trying yourself at aproper time, you will descend into the arena to know if appearancesoverpower you as they did formerly. But at first fly far from thatwhich is stronger than yourself: the contest is unequal between acharming young girl and a beginner in philosophy. "The earthenpitcher," as the saying is, "and the rock do not agree."  After the desire and the aversion comes the second topic of themovements toward action and the withdrawals from it; that you may beobedient to reason, that you do nothing out of season or place, orcontrary to any propriety of the kind. The third topic concerns theassents, which is related to the things which are persuasive andattractive. For as Socrates said, "we ought not to live a life withoutexamination," so we ought not to accept an appearance withoutexamination, but we should say, "Wait, let me see what you are andwhence you come"; like the watch at night, "Show me the pass." "Haveyou the signal from nature which the appearance that may be acceptedought to have?" And finally whatever means are applied to the bodyby those who exercise it, if they tend in any way toward desire andit, aversion, they also may be fit means of exercise; but if theyare for display, they are the indications of one who has turnedhimself toward something external, and who is hunting for somethingelse, and who looks for spectators who will say, "Oh the great man."For this reason, Apollonius said well, "When you intend to exerciseyourself for your own advantage, and you are thirsty from heat, takein a mouthful of cold water, and spit it out, and tell nobody."  CHAPTER 13  What solitude is, and what kind of person a solitary man is  Solitude is a certain condition of a helpless man. For because a manis alone, he is not for that reason also solitary; just as though aman is among numbers, he is not therefore not solitary. When then wehave lost either a brother, or a son, or a friend on whom we wereaccustomed to repose, we say that we are left solitary, though weare often in Rome, though such a crowd meet us, though so many live inthe same place, and sometimes we have a great number of slaves. Forthe man who is solitary, as it is conceived, is considered to be ahelpless person and exposed to those who wish to harm him. For thisreason when we travel, then especially do we say that we are lonelywhen we fall among robbers, for it is not the sight of a humancreature which removes us from solitude, but the sight of one who isfaithful and modest and helpful to us. For if being alone is enough tomake solitude, you may say that even Zeus is solitary in theconflagration and bewails himself saying, "Unhappy that I am whohave neither Hera, nor Athena, nor Apollo, nor brother, nor son, nordescendant nor kinsman." This is what some say that he does when he isalone at the conflagration. For they do not understand how a manpasses his life when he is alone, because they set out from acertain natural principle, from the natural desire of community andmutual love and from the pleasure of conversation among men. Butnone the less a man ought to be prepared in a manner for this also, tobe able to be sufficient for himself and to be his own companion.For as Zeus dwells with himself, and is tranquil by himself, andthinks of his own administration and of its nature, and is employed inthoughts suitable to himself; so ought we also to be able to talk withourselves, not to feel the want of others also, not to be unprovidedwith the means of passing our time; to observe the divineadministration and the relation of ourselves to everything else; toconsider how we formerly were affected toward things that happen andhow at present; what are still the things which give us pain; howthese also can be cured and how removed; if any things requireimprovement, to improve them according to reason.  For you see that Caesar appears to furnish us with great peace, thatthere are no longer enemies nor battles nor great associations ofrobbers nor of pirates, but we can travel at every hour and sailfrom east to west. But can Caesar give us security from fever also,can he from shipwreck, from fire, from earthquake or from lightning?well, I will say, can he give us security against love? He cannot.From sorrow? He cannot. From envy? He cannot. In a word then he cannotprotect us from any of these things. But the doctrine ofphilosophers promises to give us security even against these things.And what does it say? "Men, if you will attend to me, wherever youare, whatever you are doing, you will not feel sorrow, nor anger,nor compulsion, nor hindrance, but you will pass your time withoutperturbations and free from everything." When a man has this peace,not proclaimed by Caesar (for how should he be able to proclaimit?), but by God through reason, is he not content when he is alone?when he sees and reflects, "Now no evil can happen to me; for me thereis no robber, no earthquake, everything is full of peace, full oftranquillity: every way, every city, every meeting, neighbor,companion is harmless. One person whose business it is, supplies mewith food; another with raiment; another with perceptions, andpreconceptions. And if he does not supply what is necessary, Hegives the signal for retreat, opens the door, and says to you, 'Go.'Go whither? To nothing terrible, but to the place from which you came,to your friends and kinsmen, to the elements: what there was in you offire goes to fire; of earth, to earth; of air, to air; of water towater: no Hades, nor Acheron, nor Cocytus, nor Pyriphlegethon, but allis full of Gods and Demons." When a man has such things to think on,and sees the sun, the moon and stars, and enjoys earth and sea, heis not solitary nor even helpless. "Well then, if some man should comeupon me when I am alone and murder me?" Fool, not murder you, but yourpoor body.  What kind of solitude then remains? what want? why do we makeourselves worse than children? and what do children do when they areleft alone? They take up shells and ashes, and they build something,then pull it down, and build something else, and so they never wantthe means of passing the time. Shall I, then, if you sail away, sitdown and weep, because I have been left alone and solitary? Shall Ithen have no shells, no ashes? But children do what they do throughwant of thought, and we through knowledge are unhappy.  Every great power is dangerous to beginners. You must then bear suchthings as you are able, but conformably to nature: but not... Practicesometimes a way of living like a man in health. Abstain from food,drink water, abstain sometimes altogether from desire, in order thatyou may some time desire consistently with reason; and if consistentlywith reason, when you have anything good in you, you will desire well."Not so; but we wish to live like wise men immediately and to beuseful to men." Useful how? what are you doing? have you been usefulto yourself? "But, I suppose, you wish to exhort them." You exhortthem! You wish to be useful to them. Show to them in your ownexample what kind of men philosophy makes, and don't trifle. Whenyou are eating, do good to those who eat with you; when you aredrinking, to those who are drinking with you; by yielding to all,giving way, bearing with them, thus do them good, and do not spit onthem your phlegm.  CHAPTER 14  Certain miscellaneous matters  As bad tragic actors cannot sing alone, but in company with many: sosome persons cannot walk about alone. Man, if you are anything, bothwalk alone and talk to yourself, and do not hide yourself in thechorus. Examine a little at last, look around, stir yourself up,that you may know who you are.  When a man drinks water, or does anything for the sake ofpractice, whenever there is an opportunity he tells it to all: "Idrink water." Is it for this that you drink water, for the purposeof drinking water? Man, if it is good for you to drink, drink; butif not, you are acting ridiculously. But if it is good for you and youdo drink, say nothing about it to those who are displeased withwater-drinkers. What then, do you wish to please these very men?  Of things that are done some are done with a final purpose, someaccording to occasion, others with a certain reference tocircumstances, others for the purpose of complying with others. andsome according to a fixed scheme of life.  You must root out of men these two things, arrogance and distrust.Arrogance, then, is the opinion that you want nothing: but distrust isthe opinion that you cannot be happy when so many circumstancessurround you. Arrogance is removed by confutation; and Socrates wasthe first who practiced this. And, that the thing is not impossible,inquire and seek. This search will do you no harm; and in a mannerthis is philosophizing, to seek how it is possible to employ desireand aversion without impediment.  "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 werehorses, would you say, "My father was swifter?" "I have much barleyand fodder, or elegant neck ornaments." If, then, while you weresaying this, I said, "Be it so: let us run then." Well, is therenothing in a man such as running in a horse, by which it will he knownwhich is superior and inferior? Is there not modesty, fidelity,justice? Show yourself superior in these, that you may be superioras a man. If you tell me that you can kick violently, I also willsay to you that you are proud of that which is the act of an ass.  CHAPTER 15  That we ought to proceed with circumspection to everything  In every act consider what precedes and what follows, and thenproceed to the act. If you do not consider, you will at first beginwith spirit, since you have not thought at all of the things whichfollow; but afterward, when some consequences have shown themselves,you will basely desist. "I wish to conquer at the Olympic games." "AndI too, by the gods: for it is a fine thing." But consider here whatprecedes and what follows; and then, if it is for your good, undertakethe thing. You must act according to rules, follow strict diet,abstain from delicacies, exercise yourself by compulsion at fixedtimes, in heat, in cold; drink no cold water, nor wine, when thereis opportunity of drinking it. In a word you must surrender yourselfto the trainer as you do to a physician. Next in the contest, you mustbe covered with sand, sometimes dislocate a hand, sprain an ankle,swallow a quantity of dust, be scourged with the whip; and afterundergoing all this, you must sometimes be conquered. Afterreckoning all these things, if you have still an inclination, go tothe athletic practice. If you do not reckon them, observe you behavelike children who at one time you wi play as wrestlers, then asgladiators, then blow a trumpet, then act a tragedy, when they haveseen and admired such things. So you also do: you are at one time awrestler, then a gladiator, then a philosopher, then a rhetorician;but with your whole soul you are nothing: like the ape, you imitateall that you see; and always one thing after another pleases you,but that which becomes familiar displeases you. For you have neverundertaken anything after consideration, nor after having explored thewhole matter and put it to a strict examination; but you haveundertaken it at hazard and with a cold desire. Thus some personshaving seen a philosopher and having heard one speak like Euphrates-yet who can speak like him?- wish to be philosophers themselves.  Man, consider first what the matter is, then your own nature also,what it is able to bear. If you are a wrestler, look at yourshoulders, your thighs, your loins: for different men are naturallyformed for different things. Do you think that, if you do, you canbe a philosopher? Do you think that you can eat as you do now, drinkas you do now, and in the same way be angry and out of humour? Youmust watch, labour, conquer certain desires, you must depart from yourkinsmen, be despised by your slave, laughed at by those who meetyou, in everything you must be in an inferior condition, as tomagisterial office, in honours, in courts of justice. When you haveconsidered all these things completely, then, if you think proper,approach to philosophy, if you would gain in exchange for these thingsfreedom from perturbations, liberty, tranquillity. If you have notconsidered these things, do not approach philosophy: do not act likechildren, at one time a philosopher, then a tax collector, then arhetorician, then a procurator of Caesar These things are notconsistent. You must be one man either good or bad: you must eitherlabour at your own ruling faculty or at external things: you musteither labour at things within or at external things: that is, youmust either occupy the place of a philosopher or that of one of thevulgar.  A person said to Rufus when Galba was murdered, "Is the world nowgoverned by Providence?" But Rufus replied, "Did I ever incidentallyform an argument from Galba that the world is governed by Providence?"  CHAPTER 16  That we ought with caution to enter, into familiar intercoursewith men  If a man has frequent intercourse with others, either for talk, ordrinking together, or generally for social purposes, he must eitherbecome like them, or change them to his own fashion. For if a manplaces a piece of quenched charcoal close to a piece that isburning, either the quenched charcoal will quench the other, or theburning charcoal will light that which is quenched. Since, then, thedanger is so great, we must cautiously enter into such intimacies withthose of the common sort, and remember that it is impossible that aman can keep company with one who is covered with soot without beingpartaker of the soot himself. For what will you do if a man speaksabout gladiators, about horses, about athletes, or, what is worse,about men? "Such a person is bad," "Such a person is good": "Thiswas well done," "This was done badly." Further, if he scoff, orridicule, or show an ill-natured disposition? Is any man among usprepared like a lute-player when he takes a lute, so that as soon ashe has touched the strings, he discovers which are discordant, andtunes the instrument? such a power as Socrates had who in all hissocial intercourse could lead his companions to his own purpose? Howshould you have this power? It is therefore a necessary consequencethat you are carried about by the common kind of people.  Why, then, are they more powerful than you? Because they utter theseuseless words from their real opinions: but you utter your elegantwords only from your lips; for this reason they are without strengthand dead, and it is nauseous to listen to your exhortations and yourmiserable virtue, which is talked of everywhere. In this way thevulgar have the advantage over you: for every opinion is strong andinvincible. Until, then, the good sentiments are fixed in you, and youshall have acquired a certain power for your security, I advise you tobe careful in your association with like wax in the sun there willbe melted away whatever you inscribe on your minds in the school.Withdraw, then, yourselves far from the sun so long as you havethese waxen sentiments. For this reason also philosophers advise mento leave their native country, because ancient habits distract themand do not allow a beginning to be made of a different habit; norcan we tolerate those who meet us and say: "See such a one is now aphilosopher, who was once so-and-so." Thus also physicians sendthose who have lingering diseases to a different country and adifferent air; and they do right, Do you also introduce other habitsthan those which you have: fix your opinions and exercise yourselvesin them. But you do not so: you go hence to a spectacle, to a showof gladiators, to a place of exercise, to a circus; then you come backhither, and again from this place you go to those places, and stillthe same persons. And there is no pleasing habit, nor attention, norcare about self and observation of this kind, "How shall I use theappearances presented to me? according to nature, or contrary tonature? how do I answer to them? as I ought, or as I ought not? Do Isay to those things which are independent of the will, that they donot concern me?" For if you are not yet in this state, fly from yourformer habits, fly from the common sort, if you intend ever to beginto be something.  CHAPTER 17  On providence  When you make any charge against Providence, consider, and youwill learn that the thing has happened according to reason. "Yes,but the unjust man has the advantage." In what? "In money." Yes, forhe 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 advantageover you in being faithful, in being modest: for you will not findit to be so; but wherein you are superior, there you will find thatyou have the advantage. And I once said to a man who was vexed becausePhilostorgus was fortunate: "Would you choose to lie with Sura?""May it never happen," he replied, "that this day should come?" "Whythen are you vexed, if he receives something in return for thatwhich he sells; or how can you consider him happy who acquires thosethings by such means as you abominate; or what wrong doesProvidence, if he gives the better things to the better men? Is it notbetter to be modest than to be rich?" He admitted this. Why are youvexed 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 inwhich he is superior; and you will never be vexed.  "But my wife treats me badly." Well, if any man asks you what thisis, say, "My wife treats me badly." "Is there, then, nothing more?"Nothing. "My father gives me nothing." But to say that this is an evilis something which must be added to it externally, and falselyadded. For this reason we must not get rid of poverty, but of theopinion about poverty, and then we shall be happy.  CHAPTER 18  That we ought not to be disturbed by any news  When anything shall be reported to you which is of a nature todisturb, have this principle in readiness, that the news is aboutnothing which is within the power of your will. Can any man reportto you that you have formed a bad opinion, or had a bad desire? Byno means. But perhaps he will report that some person is dead. Whatthen is that to you? He may report that some person speaks ill of you.What then is that to you? Or that your father is planning something orother. Against whom? Against your will? How can he? But is itagainst your poor body, against your little property? You are quitesafe: it is not against you. But the judge declares that you havecommitted an act of impiety. And did not the judges make the samedeclaration against Socrates ? Does it concern you that the judgehas made this declaration? No. Why then do you trouble yourself anylonger about it? Your father has a certain duty, and if he shall notfulfill it, he loses the character of a father, of a man of naturalaffection, of gentleness. Do not wish him to lose anything else onthis account. For never does a man do wrong, in one thing, andsuffer in another. On the other side it is your duty to make yourdefense firmly, modestly, without anger: but if you do not, you alsolose the character of a son, of a man of modest behavior, ofgenerous character. Well then, is the judge free from danger? No;but he also is in equal danger. Why then are you still afraid of hisdecision? What have you to do with that which is another man's evil?It is your own evil to make a bad defense: be on your guard againstthis only. But to be condemned or not to be condemned, as that isthe act of another person, so it is the evil of another person. "Acertain person threatens you." Me? No. "He blames you." Let him seehow he manages his own affairs. "He is going to condemn you unjustly."He is a wretched man.  CHAPTER 19  What is the condition of a common kind of man and of a philosopher  The first difference between a common person and a philosopher isthis: the common person says, "Woe to me for my little child, for mybrother, for my father." The philosopher, if he shall ever becompelled to say, "Woe to me," stops and says, "but for myself." Fornothing which is independent of the will can hinder or damage thewill, and the will can only hinder or damage itself. If, then, weourselves incline in this direction, so as, when we are unlucky, toblame ourselves and to remember that nothing else is the cause ofperturbation or loss of tranquillity except our own opinion, I swearto you by all the gods that we have made progress. But in thepresent state of affairs we have gone another way from thebeginning. For example, while we were still children, the nurse, if weever stumbled through want of care, did not chide us, but would beatthe stone. But what did the stone do? Ought the stone to have moved onaccount of your child's folly? Again, if we find nothing to eat oncoming out of the bath, the pedagogue never checks our appetite, buthe flogs the cook. Man, did we make you the pedagogue of the cookand not of the child? Correct the child, improve him. In this way evenwhen we are grown up we are like children. For he who is unmusicalis a child in music; he who is without letters is a child in learning:he who is untaught, is a child in life.  CHAPTER 20  That we can derive advantage from all external things  In the case of appearances, which are objects of the vision,nearly all have allowed the good and the evil to be in ourselves,and not in externals. No one gives the name of good to the fact thatit is day, nor bad to the fact that it is night, nor the name of thegreatest evil to the opinion that three are four. But what do men say?They say that knowledge is good, and that error is bad; so that evenin respect to falsehood itself there is a good result, the knowledgethat it is falsehood. So it ought to be in life also. "Is health agood thing, and is sickness a bad thing" No, man. "But what is it?" Tobe healthy, and healthy in a right way, is good: to be healthy in abad way is bad; so that it is possible to gain advantage even fromsickness, I declare. For is it not possible to gain advantage evenfrom death, and is it not possible to gain advantage frommutilation? Do you think that Menoeceus gained little by death? "Coulda man who says so, gain so much as Menoeceus gained?" Come, man, didhe not maintain the character of being a lover of his country, a manof great mind, faithful, generous? And if he had continued to live,would he not have lost all these things? would he not have gainedthe opposite? would he not have gained the name of coward, ignoble,a hater of his country, a man who feared death? Well, do you thinkthat he gained little by dying? "I suppose not." But did the father ofAdmetus gain much by prolonging his life so ignobly and miserably? Didhe not die afterward? Cease, I adjure you by the gods, to admirethings. Cease to make yourselves slaves, first of things, then onaccount of things slaves of those who are able to give them or takethem away.  "Can advantage then be derived from these things." From all; andfrom him who abuses you. Wherein does the man who exercises before thecombat profit the athlete? Very greatly. This man becomes my exerciserbefore the combat: he exercises me in endurance, in keeping my temper,in mildness. You say no: but he, who lays hold of my neck anddisciplines my loins and shoulders, does me good; and the exercisemaster does right when he says: "Raise him up with both hands, and theheavier he is, so much the more is my advantage." But if a manexercises me in keeping my, temper, does he not do good? This is notknowing how to gain an advantage from men. "Is my neighbour bad?"Bad to himself, but good to me: he exercises my good disposition, mymoderation. "Is my father bad?" Bad to himself, but to me good. Thisis the rod of Hermes: "Touch with it what you please," as the sayingis. "and it will be of gold." I say not so: but bring what you please,and I will make it good. Bring disease, bring death, bring poverty,bring abuse, bring trial on capital charges: all these thingsthrough the rod of Hermes shall be made profitable. "What will youdo with death?" Why, what else than that it shall do you honour, orthat it shall show you by act through it, what a man is who followsthe will of nature? "What will you do with disease?" I will show itsnature, I will be conspicuous in, it, I will be firm, I will be happy,I will not flatter the physician, I will not wish to die. What else doyou seek? Whatever you shall give me, I will make it happy, fortunate,honoured, a thing which a man shall seek.  You say No: but take care that you do not fall sick: it is a badthing." This is the same as if you should say, "Take care that younever receive the impression that three are four: that is bad." Man,how is it bad? If I think about it as I ought, how shall it, then,do me any damage? and shall it not even do me good? If, then, Ithink about poverty as I ought to do, about disease, about nothaving office, is not that enough for me? will it not be an advantage?How, then, ought I any longer to look to seek evil and good inexternals? What happens these doctrines are maintained here, but noman carries them away home; but immediately every one is at war withhis slave, with his neighbours, with those who have sneered at him,with those who have ridiculed him. Good luck to Lesbius, who dailyproves that I know nothing.  CHAPTER 21  Against those who readily come to the profession of sophists  They who have taken up bare theorems immediately wish to vomitthem forth, as persons whose stomach is diseased do with food. Firstdigest the thing, then do not vomit it up thus: f you do not digestit, the thing become truly an emetic, a crude food and unfit to eat.But after digestion show us some chance in your ruling faculty, asathletes show in their shoulders by what they have been exercisedand what they have eaten; as those who have taken up certain arts showby what they have learned. The carpenter does not come and say,"Hear me talk about the carpenter's art"; but having undertaken tobuild a house, he makes it, and proves that he knows the art. You alsoought to do something of the kind; eat like a man, drink like a man,dress, marry, beget children, do the office of a citizen, endureabuse, bear unreasonable brother, bear with your father, bear withyour son, neighbour, compassion. Show us these things that we maysee that you have in truth learned something from the philosophers.You say, "No, but come and hear me read commentaries." Go away, andseek somebody to vomit them on. "And indeed I will expound to youthe writings of Chrysippus as no other man can: I will explain histext most clearly: I will add also, if I can, the vehemence ofAntipater and Archedemus."  Is it, then, for this that young men shall leave their country andtheir parents, that they may come to this place, and hear youexplain words? Ought they not to return with a capacity to endure,to be active in association with others, free from passions, free fromperturbation, with such a provision for the journey of life with whichthey shall be able to bear well the things that happen and derivehonour from them? And how can you give them any of these thingswhich you do not possess? Have you done from the beginning anythingelse than employ yourself about the resolution of Syllogisms, ofsophistical arguments, and in those which work by questions? "But sucha man has a school; why should not I also have a school?" These thingsare not done, man, in a careless way, nor just as it may happen; butthere must be a (fit) age and life and God as a guide. You say,"No." But no man sails from a port without having sacrificed to theGods and invoked their help; nor do men sow without having called onDemeter; and shall a man who has undertaken so great a workundertake it safely without the Gods? and shall they who undertakethis work come to it with success? What else are you doing, man,than divulging the mysteries? You say, "There is a temple atEleusis, and one here also. There is an Hierophant at Eleusis, and Ialso will make an Hierophant: there is a herald, and I willestablish a herald; there is a torch-bearer at Eleusis, and I alsowill establish a torch-bearer; there are torches at Eleusis, and Iwill have torches here. The words are the same: how do the things donehere differ from those done there?" Most impious man, is there nodifference? these things are done both in due place and in due time;and when accompanied with sacrifice and prayers, when a man is firstpurified, and when he is disposed in his mind to the thought that heis going to approach sacred rites and ancient rites. In this way themysteries are useful, in this way we come to the notion that all thesethings were established by the ancients for the instruction andcorrection of life. But you publish and divulge them out of time,out of place, without sacrifices, without purity; you have not thegarments which the hierophant ought to have, nor the hair, nor thehead-dress, nor the voice, nor the age; nor have you purified yourselfas he has: but you have committed to memory the words only, and yousay: "Sacred are the words by themselves."  You ought to approach these matters in another way; the thing isgreat, it is mystical, not a common thing, nor is it given to everyman. But not even wisdom perhaps is enough to enable a man to takecare of youths: a man must have also a certain readiness and fitnessfor this purpose, and a certain quality of body, and above allthings he must have God to advise him to occupy this office, as Godadvised Socrates to occupy the place of one who confutes error,Diogenes the office of royalty and reproof, and the office of teachingprecepts. But you open a doctor's shop, though you have nothing exceptphysic: but where and how they should be applied, you know not norhave you taken any trouble about it. "See," that man says, "I too havesalves for the eyes." Have you also the power of using them? Do youknow both when and how they will do good, and to whom they will dogood? Why then do you act at hazard in things of the greatestimportance? why are you careless? why do you undertake a thing that isin no way fit for you? Leave it to those who are able to do it, and todo it well. Do not yourself bring disgrace on philosophy throughyour own acts, and be not one of those who load it with a badreputation. But if theorems please you, sit still and turn them overby yourself; but never say that you are a philosopher, nor allowanother to say it; but say: "He is mistaken, for neither are mydesires different from what they were before, nor is my activitydirected to other objects, nor do I assent to other things, nor in theuse of appearances have I altered at all from my former condition."This you must think and say about yourself, if you would think asyou ought: if not, act at hazard, and do what you are doing; for itbecomes you.  CHAPTER 22  About cynicism  When one of his pupils inquired of Epictetus, and he was a personwho appeared to be inclined to Cynism, what kind of person a Cynicought to be and what was the notion of the thing, We will inquire,said Epictetus, at leisure: but I have so much to say to you that hewho without God attempts so great a matter, is hateful to God, and hasno other purpose than to act indecently in public. For in anywell-managed house no man comes forward, and says to himself, "I oughtto be manager of the house." If he does so, the master turns roundand, seeing him insolently giving orders, drags him forth and flogshim. So it is also in this great city; for here also there is a masterof the house who orders everything. "You are the sun; you can by goinground make the year and seasons, and make the fruits grow andnourish them, and stir the winds and make them remit, and warm thebodies of men properly: go, travel round, and so administer thingsfrom the greatest to the least." "You are a calf; when a lion shallappear, do your proper business: if you do not, you will suffer." "Youare a bull: advance and fight, for this is your business, andbecomes you, and you can do it." "You can lead the army againstIllium; be Agamemnon." "You can fight in single combat against Hector:be Achilles." But if Thersites came forward and claimed the command,he would either not have obtained it; or, if he did obtain it, hewould have disgraced himself before many witnesses.  Do you also think about the matter carefully: it is not what itseems to you. "I wear a cloak now and I shall wear it then: I sleephard now, and I shall sleep hard then: I will take in addition alittle bag now and a staff, and I will go about and begin to beg andto abuse those whom I meet; and if I see any man plucking the hair outof his body, I will rebuke him, or if he has dressed his hair, or ifhe walks about in purple." If you imagine the thing to be such asthis, keep far away from it: do not approach it: it is not at allfor you. But if you imagine it to be what it is, and do not thinkyourself to be unfit for it, consider what a great thing youundertake.  In the first place in the things which relate to yourself, youmust not be in any respect like what you do now: you must not blameGod or man: you must take away desire altogether, you must transferavoidance only to the things which are within the power of the will:you must not feel anger nor resentment nor envy nor pity; a girlmust not appear handsome to you, nor must you love a littlereputation, nor be pleased with a boy or a cake. For you ought to knowthat the rest of men throw walls around them and houses and darknesswhen 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 personcomes, say that he is out, he is not at leisure. But the Cynic insteadof all these things must use modesty as his protection: if he doesnot, he will he indecent in his nakedness and under the open sky. Thisis his house, his door: this is the slave before his bedchamber:this is his darkness. For he ought not to wish to hide anything thathe does: and if he does, he is gone, he has lost the character of aCynic, of a man who lives under the open sky, of a free man: he hasbegun to fear some external thing, he has begun to have need ofconcealment, nor can he get concealment when he chooses. For whereshall he hide himself and how? And if by chance this public instructorshall be detected, this pedagogue, what kind of things will he becompelled to suffer? when then a man fears these things, is itpossible for him to be bold with his whole soul to superintend men? Itcannot be: it is impossible.  In the first place, then, you must make your ruling faculty pure,and this mode of life also. "Now, to me the matter to work on is myunderstanding, as wood is to the carpenter, as hides to the shoemaker;and my business is the right use of appearances. But the body isnothing to me: the parts of it are nothing to me. Death? Let it comewhen 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. Butwherever I ever I go, there is the sun, there is the moon, there arethe stars, dreams, omens, and the conversation with Gods."  Then, if he is thus prepared, the true Cynic cannot be satisfiedwith this; but he must know that he is sent a messenger from Zeus tomen about good and bad things, to show them that they have wanderedand are seeking the substance of good and evil where it is not, butwhere it is, they never think; and that he is a spy, as Diogenes wascarried off to Philip after the battle of Chaeroneia as a spy. For, infact, a Cynic is a spy of the things which are good for men andwhich are evil, and it is his duty to examine carefully and to comeand report truly, and not to be struck with terror so as to pointout as enemies those who are not enemies, nor in any other way to beperturbed by appearances nor confounded.  It is his duty, then, to he able with a loud voice, if theoccasion should arise, and appearing on the tragic stage to say likeSocrates: "Men, whither are you hurrying, what are you doing,wretches? like blind people you are wandering up and down: you aregoing by another road, and have left the true road: you seek forprosperity and happiness where they are not, and if another showsyou where they are, you do not believe him." Why do you seek itwithout? 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 donot believe me, look at Croesus: look at those who are now rich,with what lamentations their life is filled. In power? It is notthere. If it is, those must be happy who have been twice and thriceconsuls; but they are not. Whom shall we believe in these matters? youwho 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 andglory and splendour they think that they are more wretched and ingreater danger. Is it in royal power? It is not: if it were, Nerowould have been happy, and Sardanapalus. But neither was Agamemnonhappy, though he was a better man than Sardanapalus and Nero; butwhile others are snoring what is he doing?     "Much from his head he tore his rooted hair."And what does he say himself?     "I am perplexed," he says, "and     Disturb'd I am," and "my heart out of my bosom     Is leaping."Wretch, which of your affairs goes badly? Your possessions? No. Yourbody? No. But you are rich in gold and copper. What then is the matterwith you? That part of you, whatever it is, has been neglected byyou and is corrupted, the part with which we desire, with which weavoid, with which we move toward and move from things. Howneglected? He knows not the nature of good for which he is made bynature and the nature of evil; and what is his own, and what belongsto another; and when anything that belongs to others goes badly, hesays, "Woe to me, for the Hellenes are in dancer." Wretched is hisruling faculty, and alone neglected and uncared for. "The Hellenes aregoing to die destroyed by the Trojans." And if the Trojans do not killthem, will they not die? "Yes; but not all at once." Whatdifference, then, does it make? For if death is an evil, whether mendie altogether, or if they die singly, it is equally an evil. Isanything else then going to happen than the separation of the soul andthe body? Nothing. And if the Hellenes perish, is the door closed, andis it not in your power to die? "It is." Why then do you lament "Oh,you who are a king and have the sceptre of Zeus?" An unhappy king doesnot exist more than an unhappy god. What then art thou? In truth ashepherd: for you weep as shepherds do, when a wolf has carried offone of their sheep: and these who are governed by you are sheep. Andwhy did you come hither? Was your desire in any danger? was youraversion? was your movement? was your avoidance of things? He replies,"No; but the wife of my brother was carried off." Was it not then agreat gain to be deprived of an adulterous wife? "Shall we bedespised, then, by the Trojans?" What kind of people are theTrojans, wise or foolish? If they are wise, why do you fight withthem? If they are fools, why do you care about them.  In what, then, is the good, since it is not in these things? Tellus, you who are lord, messenger and spy. Where you do not think thatit is, nor choose to seek it: for if you chose to seek it, you wouldhave found it to he in yourselves; nor would you be wandering out ofthe way, nor seeking what belongs to others as if it were your own.Turn your thoughts into yourselves: observe the preconceptions whichyou have. What kind of a thing do you imagine the good to be? "Thatwhich flows easily, that which is happy, that which is not impeded."Come, and do you not naturally imagine it to be great, do you notimagine it to be valuable? do you not imagine it to be free from harm?In what material then ought you to seek for that which flows easily,for that which is not impeded? in that which serves or in that whichis free? "In that which is free." Do you possess the body, then,free or is it in servile condition? "We do not know." Do you notknow that it is the slave of fever, of gout, ophthalmia, dysentery, ofa tyrant, of fire, of iron, of everything which is stronger? Yes, itis a slave." How, then, is it possible that anything which belongsto the body can be free from hindrance? and how is a thing great orvaluable which is naturally dead, or earth, or mud? Well then, doyou possess nothing which is free? "Perhaps nothing." And who isable 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? "Noman." By this, then, you see that there is something in younaturally free. But to desire or to be averse from, or to movetoward an object or to move from it, or to prepare yourself, or topropose to do anything, which of you can do this, unless he hasreceived an impression of the appearance of that which is profitableor a duty? "No man." You have, then, in these thongs also somethingwhich is not hindered and is free. Wretched men, work out this, takecare of this, seek for good here.  "And how is it possible that a man who has nothing, who is naked,houseless, without a hearth, squalid, without a slave, without a city,can pass a life that flows easily?" See, God has sent you a man toshow you that it is possible. "Look at me, who am without a city,without a house, without possessions, without a slave; I sleep onthe ground; I have no wife, no children; no praetorium, but only theearth and heavens, and one poor cloak. And what do I want? Am I notwithout sorrow? am I not without fear? Am I not free? When did anyof you see me failing in the object of my desire? or ever falling intothat which I would avoid? did I ever blame God or man? did I everaccuse any man? did any of you ever see me with sorrowful countenance?And how do I meet with those whom you are afraid of and admire? Do notI treat them like slaves? Who, when he sees me, does not think that hesees his king and master?"  This is the language of the Cynics, this their character, this istheir purpose. You say "No": but their characteristic is the littlewallet, and staff, and great jaws: the devouring of all that yougive them, or storing it up, or the abusing unseasonably all whom theymeet, or displaying their shoulder as a fine thing. Do you see howyou are going, to undertake so great a business? First take amirror: look at your shoulders; observe your loins, your thighs. Youare going, my man, to be enrolled as a combatant in the Olympic games,no frigid and miserable contest. In the Olympic games a man is notpermitted to be conquered only and to take his departure; but first hemust be disgraced in the sight of all the world, not in the sight ofAthenians only, or of Lacedaemonians or of Nicopolitans; next hemust be whipped also if he has entered into the contests rashly: andbefore being whipped, he must suffer thirst and heat, and swallow muchdust.  Reflect more carefully, know thyself, consult the divinity,without God attempt nothing; for if he shall advise you, be assuredthat he intends you to become great or to receive many blows. For thisvery amusing quality is conjoined to a Cynic: he must be floggedlike an ass, and when he is flogged, he must love those who floghim, as if he were the father of all, and the brother of all. Yousay "No"; but if a man flogs you, stand in the public place and callout, "Caesar, what do I suffer in this state of peace under thyprotection? Let us bring the offender before the proconsul." Butwhat is Caesar to a Cynic, or what is a proconsul, or what is anyother except him who sent the Cynic down hither, and whom he serves,namely Zeus? Does he call upon any other than Zeus? Is he notconvinced that, whatever he suffers, it is Zeus who is exercising him?Hercules when he was exercised by Eurystheus did not think that he waswretched, but without hesitation he attempted to execute all that hehad in hand. And is he who is trained to the contest and exercisedby Zeus going to call out and to be vexed, he who is worthy to bearthe sceptre of Diogenes? Hear what Diogenes says to the passers-bywhen he is in a fever, "Miserable wretches, will you not stay? but areyou going so long a journey to Olympia to see the destruction or thefight of athletes; and will you not choose to see the combat between afever and a man?" Would such a man accuse God who sent him down asif God were treating him unworthily, a man who gloried in hiscircumstances, and claimed to be an example to those who werepassing by? For what shall he accuse him of? because he maintains adecency of behavior, because he displays his virtue moreconspicuously? Well, and what does he say of poverty, about death,about pain? How did he compare his own happiness with that of theGreat King? or rather he thought that there was no comparisonbetween them. For where there are perturbations, and griefs, andfears, and desires not satisfied, and aversions of things which youcannot avoid, and envies and jealousies, how is there a road tohappiness there? But where there are corrupt principles, there thesethings must of necessity be.  When the young man asked, if when a Cynic is sick, and a friend askshim to come to his house and be taken care of in his sickness, shallthe Cynic accept the invitation, he replied: And where shall you find,I ask, a Cynic's friend? For the man who invites ought to be suchanother as the that he may be worthy of being reckoned the Cynic'sfriend. He ought to be a partner in the Cynic's sceptre and hisroyalty, and a worthy minister, if he intends to be consideredworthy of a Cynic's friendship, as Diogenes was a friend ofAntisthenes, as Crates was a friend of Diogenes. Do you think that, ifa man comes to a Cynic and salutes him, he is the Cynic's friend,and that the Cynic will think him worthy of receiving a Cynic into hishouse? So that, if you please, reflect on this also: rather look roundfor some convenient dunghill on which you shall bear your fever andwhich will shelter you from the north wind that you may not bechilled. But you seem to me to wish to go into some man's house and tobe well fed there for a time. Why then do you think of attempting sogreat a thing?  "But," said the young man, "shall marriage and the procreation ofchildren as a chief duty be undertaken by the Cynic?" If you grantme a community of wise men, Epictetus replies, perhaps no man willreadily apply himself to the Cynic practice. For on whose accountshould he undertake this manner of life? However if we suppose that hedoes, nothing will prevent him from marrying and begetting children;for his wife will be another like himself, and his father-in-lawanother like himself, and his children will be brought up likehimself. But in the present state of things which is like that of anarmy placed in battle order, is it not fit that the Cynic shouldwithout any distraction be employed only on the administration of God,able to go about among men, not tied down to the common duties ofmankind, nor entangled in the ordinary relations of life, which ifhe neglects, he will not maintain the character of an honourable andgood man? and if he observes them he will lose the character of themessenger, and spy and herald of God. For consider that it is his dutyto do something toward his father-in-law, something to the otherkinsfolk of his wife, something to his wife also. He is alsoexcluded by being a Cynic from looking after the sickness of his ownfamily, and from providing for their support. And, to say nothing ofthe rest, he must have a vessel for heating water for the child thathe may wash it in the bath; wool for his wife when she is delivered ofa child, oil, a bed, a cup: so the furniture of the house isincreased. I say nothing of his other occupations and of hisdistraction. Where, then, now is that king, he who devotes himselfto the public interests,     The people's guardian and so full of cares.whose duty it is to look after others, the married and those whohave children; to see who uses his wife well, who uses her badly;who quarrels; what family is well administered, what is not; goingabout as a physician does and feels pulses? He says to one, "Youhave a fever," to another, "You have a headache, or the gout": he saysto one, "Abstain from food"; to another he says, "Eat"; or "Do not usethe bath"; to another, "You require the knife, or the cautery." Howcan he have time for this who is tied to the duties of common life? isit not his duty to supply clothing to his children, and to send themto the schoolmaster with writing tablets, and styles. Besides, must henot supply them with beds? for they cannot be genuine Cynics as soonas they are born. If he does not do this, it would be better to exposethe children as soon as they are born than to kill them in this way.Consider what we are bringing the Cynic down to, how we are taking hisroyalty from him. "Yes, but Crates took a wife." You are speaking of acircumstance which arose from love and of a woman who was anotherCrates. But we are inquiring about ordinary marriages and thosewhich are free from distractions, and making this inquiry we do notfind the affair of marriage in this state of the world a thing whichis especially suited to the Cynic.  "How, then, shall a man maintain the existence of society?" In thename of God, are those men greater benefactors to society whointroduce into the world to occupy their own places two or threegrunting children, or those who superintend as far as they can allmankind, and see what they do, how they live, what they attend to,what they neglect contrary to their duty? Did they who left littlechildren to the Thebans do them more good than Epaminondas who diedchildless? And did Priamus, who begat fifty worthless sons, orDanaus or AEolus contribute more to the community than Homer? thenshall the duty of a general or the business of a writer exclude aman from marriage or the begetting of children, and such a man shallnot be judged to have accepted the condition of childlessness fornothing; and shall not the royalty of a Cynic be considered anequivalent for the want of children? Do we not perceive his grandeurand do we not justly contemplate the character of Diogenes; and do we,instead of this, turn our eyes to the present Cynics, who are dogsthat wait at tables and in no respect imitate the Cynics of old exceptperchance in breaking wind, but in nothing else? For such matterswould not have moved us at all nor should we have wondered if aCynic should not marry or beget children. Man, the Cynic is the fatherof all men; the men are his sons, the women are his daughters: he socarefully visits all, so well does he care for all. Do you thinkthat it is from idle impertinence that he rebukes those whom he meets?He does it as a father, as a brother, and as the minister of thefather of all, the minister of Zeus.  If you please, ask me also if a Cynic shall engage in theadministration of the state. Fool, do you seek a greater form ofadministration than that in which he is engaged? Do you ask if heshall appear among the Athenians and say something about therevenues and the supplies, he who must talk with all men, alike withAthenians, alike with Corinthians, alike with Romans, not aboutsupplies, nor yet about revenues, nor about peace or war, but abouthappiness and unhappiness, about good fortune and bad fortune, aboutslavery and freedom? When a man has undertaken the administration ofsuch a state, do you ask me if he shall engage in the administrationof a state? ask me also if he shall govern: again I will say to you:Fool, what greater government shall he exercise than that which heexercises now?  It is necessary also for such a man to have a certain habit of body:for if he appears to be consumptive, thin and pale, his testimonyhas not then the same weight. For he must not only by showing thequalities of the soul prove to the vulgar that it is in his powerindependent of the things which they admire to be a good man, but hemust also show by his body that his simple and frugal way of living inthe open air does not injure even the body. "See," he says, "I am aproof of this, and my own body also is." So Diogenes used to do, forhe used to go about fresh-looking, and he attracted the notice ofthe many by his personal appearance. But if a Cynic is an object ofcompassion, he seems to a beggar: all persons turn away from him,all are offended with him; for neither ought he to appear dirty sothat he shall not also in this respect drive away men; but his veryroughness ought to be clean and attractive.  There ought also to belong to the Cynic much natural grace andsharpness; and if this is not so, he is a stupid fellow, and nothingelse; and he must have these qualities that he may be able readily andfitly to be a match for all circumstances that may happen. So Diogenesreplied to one who said, "Are you the Diogenes who does not believethat there are gods?" "And, how," replied Diogenes, "can this bewhen I think that you are odious to the gods?" On another occasionin reply to Alexander, who stood by him when he was sleeping, andquoted Homer's line,     A man a councilor should not sleep all night,he answered, when he was half-asleep,     The people's guardian and so full of cares.  But before all the Cynic's ruling faculty must be purer than thesun; and, if it is not, he must be a cunning knave and a fellow ofno principle, since while he himself is entangled in some vice he willreprove others. For see how the matter stands: to these kings andtyrants their guards and arms give the power of reproving somepersons, and of being able even to punish those who do wrong thoughthey are themselves bad; but to a Cynic instead of arms and guardsit is conscience which gives this power. When he knows that be haswatched and labored for mankind, and has slept pure, and sleep hasleft him still purer, and that he thought whatever he has thought as afriend of the gods, as a minister, as a participator of the power ofZeus, and that on all occasions he is ready to say     Lead me, O Zeus, and thou O Destiny;and also, "If so it pleases the gods, so let it be"; why should he nothave confidence to speak freely to his own brothers, to hischildren, in a word to his kinsmen? For this reason he is neitherovercurious nor a busybody when he is in this state of mind: for he isnot a meddler with the affairs of others when he is superintendinghuman affairs, but he is looking after his own affairs. If that is notso, you may also say that the general is a busybody, when heinspects his soldiers, and examines them, and watches them, andpunishes the disorderly. But if, while you have a cake under your arm,you rebuke others, I will say to you: "Will you not rather go awayinto a corner and eat that which you have stolen"; what have you to dowith the affairs of others? For who are you? are you the bull of theherd, or the queen of the bees? Show me the tokens of yoursupremacy, such as they have from nature. But if you are a droneclaiming the sovereignty over the bees, do you not suppose that yourfellow citizens will put you down as the bees do the drones?  The Cynic also ought to have such power of endurance as to seeminsensible to the common sort and a stone: no man reviles him, noman strikes him, no man insults him, but he gives his body that anyman who chooses may do with it what he likes. For he bears in mindthat the inferior must be overpowered by the superior in that in whichit is inferior; and the body is inferior to the many, the weaker tothe stronger. He never then descends into such a contest in which hecan be overpowered; but he immediately withdraws from things whichbelong to others, he claims not the things which are servile. wherethere is will and the use of appearances, there you will see howmany eyes he has so that you may say, "Argus was blind compared withhim." Is his assent ever hasty, his movement rash, does his desireever fall in its object, does that which he would avoid befall him, ishis purpose unaccomplished, does he ever find fault, is he everhumiliated, is he ever envious? To these he directs all hisattention and energy; but as to everything else he snores supine.All is peace; there is no robber who takes away his will, no tyrant.But what say you as to his body? I say there is. And as tomagistracies and honours? What does he care for them? When then anyperson would frighten him through them, he says to him, "Begone,look for children: masks are formidable to them; but I know thatthey are made of shell, and they have nothing inside."  About such a matter as this you are deliberating. Therefore, ifyou please, I urge you in God's name, defer the matter, and firstconsider your preparation for it. For see what Hector says toAndromache, "Retire rather," he says, "into the house and weave:     War is the work of men     Of all indeed, but specially 'tis mine.So he was conscious of his own qualification, and knew her weakness.  CHAPTER 23  To those who read and discuss for the sake of ostentation  First say to yourself, who you wish to be: then do accordinglywhat you are doing; for in nearly all other things we see this to beso. Those who follow athletic exercises first determine what they wishto be, then do accordingly what follows. If a man is a runner in thelong course, there is a certain kind of diet, of walking, rubbingand exercise: if a man is a runner in the stadium, all these thingsare different; if he is a Pentathlete, they are still moredifferent. So you will find it also in the arts. If you are acarpenter, you will have such and such things: if a worker in metal,such things. For everything that we do, if we refer it to no end, weshall do it to no purpose; and if we refer it to the wrong end, weshall miss the mark. Further, there is a general end or purpose, and aparticular purpose. First of all, we must act as a man. What iscomprehended in this? We must not be like a sheep, though gentle,nor mischievous, like a wild beast. But the particular cud hasreference to each person's mode of life and his will. Thelute-player acts as a lute-player, the carpenter as a carpenter, thephilosopher as a philosopher, the rhetorician as a rhetorician. Whenthen you say, "Come and hear me read to you": take care first of allthat you are not doing this without a purpose; then, if you havediscovered that you are doing this with reference to a purpose,consider if it is the right purpose. Do you wish to do good or to bepraised? Immediately you hear him saying, "To me what is the valueof praise from the many?" and he says well, for it is of no value to amusician, so far as he is a musician, nor to a geometrician. Do youthen wish to be useful? in what? tell us that we may run to youraudience-room. Now can a man do anything useful to others, who has notreceived something useful himself? No, for neither can a man doanything useful in the carpenter's art, unless he is a carpenter;nor in the shoemaker's art, unless he is a shoemaker.  Do you wish to know then if you have received any advantage? Produceyour opinions, philosopher. What is the thing which desire promises?Not to fall in the object. What does aversion promise? Not to fallinto that which you would avoid. Well; do we fulfill their promise?Tell me the truth; but if you lie, I will tell you. Lately when yourhearers came together rather coldly, and did not give you applause,you went away humbled. Lately again when you had been praised, youwent about and said to all, "What did you think of me?" "Wonderful,master, I swear by all that is dear to me." "But how did I treat ofthat particular matter?" "Which?" "The passage in which I describedPan and the nymphs?" "Excellently." Then do you tell me that in desireand in aversion you are acting according to nature? Begone; try topersuade somebody else. Did you not praise a certain person contraryto your opinion? and did you not flatter a certain person who wasthe son of a senator? Would you wish your own children to be suchpersons? "I hope not." Why then did you praise and flatter him? "He isan ingenuous youth and listens well to discourses." How is this? "Headmires me." You have stated your proof. Then what do you think? donot these very people secretly despise you? When, then, a man who isconscious that he has neither done any good nor ever thinks of it,finds a philosopher who says, "You have a great natural talent, andyou have a candid and good disposition," what else do you think thathe says except this, "This man has some need of me?" Or tell me whatact that indicates a, great mind has he shown? Observe; he has been inyour company a long time; he has listened to your discourses, he hasheard you reading; has he become more modest? has he been turned toreflect on himself? has he perceived in what a bad state he is? has hecast away self-conceit? does he look for a person to teach him? "Hedoes." A man who will teach him to live? No, fool, but how to talk;for it is for this that he admires you also. Listen and hear what hesays: "This man writes with perfect art, much better than Dion."This is altogether another thing. Does he say, "This man is modest,faithful, free from perturbations?" and even if he did say it, Ishould say to him, "Since this man is faithful, tell me what thisfaithful man is." And if he could not tell me, I should add this,"First understand what you say, then speak."  You, then, who are in a wretched plight and gaping after applauseand counting your auditors, do you intend to be useful to others?"To-day many more attended my discourse." "Yes, many; we supposefive hundred." "That is nothing; suppose that there were athousand." "Dion never had so many hearers." "How could he?" "And theyunderstand what is said beautifully." "What is fine, master, canmove even a stone." See, these are the words of a philosopher. This isthe disposition of a man who will do good to others; here is a man whohas listened to discourses, who has read what is written aboutSocrates as Socratic, not as the compositions of Lysias and Isocrates."I have often wondered by what arguments." Not so, but "by whatargument": this is more exact than that. What, have you read the wordsat all in a different way from that in which you read little odes? Forif you read them as you ought, you would not have been attending tosuch matters, but you would rather have been looking to these words:"Anytus and Meletus are able to kill me, but they cannot harm me": and"I am always of such a disposition as to pay regard to nothing of myown except to the reason which on inquiry seems to me the best." Hencewho ever heard Socrates say, "I know something and I teach"; but heused to send different people to different teachers. Therefore theyused to come to him and ask to be introduced to philosophy by him; andhe would take them and recommend them. Not so; but as he accompaniedthem he would say, "Hear me to-day discoursing in the house ofQuadratus." Why should I hear you? Do you wish to show me that you putwords together cleverly? You put them together, man; and what goodwill it do you? "But only praise me." What do you mean by praising?"Say to me, "Admirable, wonderful." Well, I say so. But if that ispraise whatever it is which philosophers mean by the name of good,what have I to praise in you? If it is good to speak well, teach me,and will praise you. "What then? ought a man to listen to suchthings without pleasure?" I hope not. For my part I do not listen evento a lute-player without pleasure. Must I then for this reason standand play the lute? Hear what Socrates says, "Nor would it be seemlyfor a man of my age, like a young man composing addresses, to appearbefore you." "Like a young man," he says. For in truth this smallart is an elegant thing, to select words, and to put them together,and to come forward and gracefully to read them or to speak, and whilehe is reading to say, "There are not many who can do these things, Iswear by all that you value."  Does a philosopher invite people to hear him? As the sun himselfdraws men to him, or as food does, does not the philosopher alsodraw to him those who will receive benefit? What physician invites aman to be treated by him? Indeed I now hear that even the physiciansin Rome do invite patients, but when I lived there, the physicianswere invited. "I invite you to come and hear that things are in abad way for you, and that you are taking care of everything exceptthat of which you ought to take care, and that you are ignorant of thegood and the bad and are unfortunate and unhappy." A fine kind ofinvitation: and yet if the words of the philosopher do not producethis effect on you, he is dead, and so is the speaker. Rufus wasused to say: "If you have leisure to praise me, I am speaking to nopurpose." Accordingly he used to speak in such a way that every one ofus who were sitting there supposed that some one had accused himbefore Rufus: he so touched on what was doing, he so placed before theeyes every man's faults.  The philosopher's school, ye men, is a surgery: you ought not togo out of it with pleasure, but with pain. For you are not in soundhealth when you enter: one has dislocated his shoulder, another has anabscess, a third a fistula, and a fourth a headache. Then do I sit andutter to you little thoughts and exclamations that you may praise meand go away, one with his shoulder in the same condition in which heentered, another with his head still aching, and a third with hisfistula or his abscess just as they were? Is it for this then thatyoung men shall quit home, and leave their parents and their friendsand kinsmen and property, that they may say to you, "Wonderful!"when you are uttering your exclamations. Did Socrates do this, orZeno, or Cleanthes?  What then? is there not the hortatory style? Who denies it? as thereis the style of refutation, and the didactic style. Who, then, everreckoned a fourth style with these, the style of display? What isthe hortatory style? To be able to show both to one person and to manythe struggle in which they are engaged, and that they think more aboutanything than about what they really wish. For they wish the thingswhich lead to happiness, but they look for them in the wrong place. Inorder that this may be done, a thousand seats must be placed and menmust be invited to listen, and you must ascend the pulpit in a finerobe or cloak and describe the death of Achilles. Cease, I entreat youby the gods, to spoil good words and good acts as much as you can.Nothing can have more power in exhortation than when the speaker showsto the hearers that he has need of them. But tell me who when he hearsyou reading or discoursing is anxious about himself or turns toreflect on himself? or when he has gone out says, "The philosopher hitme well: I must no longer do these things." But does he not, even ifyou have a great reputation, say to some person, "He spoke finelyabout Xerxes"; and another says, "No, but about the battle ofThermopylae"? Is this listening to a philosopher?  CHAPTER 24  That we ought not to be moved by a desire of those things whichare not in our power  Let not that which in another is contrary to nature be an evil toyou: for you are not formed by nature to be depressed with othersnor to be unhappy with others, but to be happy with them. If a manis unhappy, remember that his unhappiness is his own fault: for Godhas made all men to be happy, to be free from perturbations. Forthis purpose he has given means to them, some things to each person ashis own, and other things not as his own: some things subject tohindrance and compulsion and deprivation; and these things are not aman's own: but the things which are not subject to hindrances arehis own; and the nature of good and evil, as it was fit to be doneby him who takes care of us and protects us like a father, he has madeour own. "But," you say, "I have parted from a certain person, and heis grieved." Why did he consider as his own that which belongs toanother? why, when he looked on you and was rejoiced, did he notalso reckon that you are mortal, that it is natural for you to partfrom him for a foreign country? Therefore he suffers theconsequences of his own folly. But why do you or for what purposebewail yourself? Is it that you also have not thought of these things?but like poor women who are good for nothing, you have enjoyed allthings in which you took pleasure, as if you would always enjoythem, both places and men and conversation; and now you sit and weepbecause you do not see the same persons and do not live in the sameplaces. Indeed you deserve this, to be more wretched than crows andravens who have the power of flying where they please and changingtheir nests for others, and crossing the seas without lamenting orregretting their former condition. "Yes, but this happens to thembecause they are irrational creatures." Was reason, then, given tous by the gods for the purpose of unhappiness and misery, that wemay pass our lives in wretchedness and lamentation? Must all personsbe immortal and must no man go abroad, and must we ourselves not goabroad, but remain rooted like plants; and, if any of our familiarfriends go abroad, must we sit and weep; and, on the contrary, when hereturns, must we dance and clap our hands like children?  Shall we not now wean ourselves and remember what we have heard fromthe philosophers? if we did not listen to them as if they werejugglers: they tell us that this world is one city, and thesubstance out of which it has been formed is one, and that theremust be a certain period, and that some things must give way toothers, that some must be dissolved, and others come in their place;some to remain in the same place, and others to be moved; and that allthings are full of friendship, first of the gods, and then of menwho by nature are made to be of one family; and some must be withone another, and others must be separated, rejoicing in those whoare with them, and not grieving for those who are removed from them;and man in addition to being by nature of a noble temper and havinga contempt of all things which are not in the power of his will,also possesses this property, not to be rooted nor to be naturallyfixed to the earth, but to go at different times to differentplaces, sometimes from the urgency of certain occasions, and at othersmerely for the sake of seeing. So it was with Ulysses, who saw     Of many men the states, and learned their ways.And still earlier it was the fortune of Hercules to visit all theinhabited world     Seeing men's lawless deeds and their good rules of law:casting out and clearing away their lawlessness and introducing intheir place good rules of law. And yet how many friends do you thinkthat he had in Thebes, how many in Argos, how many in Athens? andhow many do you think that he gained by going about? And he marriedalso, when it seemed to him a proper occasion, and begot children, andleft them without lamenting or regretting or leaving them asorphans; for he knew that no man is an orphan; but it is the fatherwho takes care of all men always and continuously. For it was not asmere report that he had heard that Zeus is the father of for hethought that Zeus was his own father, and he called him so, and to himhe looked when he was doing what he did. Therefore he was enabled tolive happily in all places. And it is never possible for happiness anddesire of what is not present to come together. that which is happymust have all that desires, must resemble a person who is filledwith food, and must have neither thirst nor hunger. "But Ulyssesfelt a desire for his wife and wept as he sat on a rock." Do youattend to Homer and his stories in everything? Or if Ulysses reallywept, what was he else than an unhappy man? and what good man isunhappy? In truth, the whole is badly administered, if Zeus does nottake care of his own citizens that they may be happy like himself. Butthese things are not lawful nor right to think of: and if Ulyssesdid weep and lament, he was not a good man. For who is good if heknows not who he is? and who knows what he is, if he forgets thatthings which have been made are perishable, and that it is notpossible for one human being to be with another always? To desire,then, things which are impossible is to have a slavish character andis foolish: it is the part of a stranger, of a man who fightsagainst God in the only way that he can, by his opinions.  "But my mother laments when she does not see me." Why has she notlearned these principles? and I do not say this, that we should nottake care that she may not lament, but I say that we ought not todesire in every way what is not our own. And the sorrow of anotheris another's sorrow: but my sorrow is my own. I, then, will stop myown sorrow by every means, for it is in my power: and the sorrow ofanother I will endeavor to stop as far as I can; but I will notattempt to do it by every means; for if I do, I shall be fightingagainst God, I shall be opposing and shall be placing myself againsthim in the administration of the universe; and the reward of thisfighting against God and of this disobedience not only will thechildren of my children pay, but I also shall myself, both by dayand by night, startled by dreams, perturbed, trembling at everypiece of news, and having my tranquillity depending on the lettersof others. Some person has arrived from Rome. "I only hope thatthere is no harm." But what harm can happen to you, where you are not?From Hellas some one is come: "I hope that there is no harm." Inthis way every place may be the cause of misfortune to you. Is itnot enough for you to be unfortunate there where you are, and must yoube so even beyond sea, and by the report of letters? Is this the wayin which your affairs are in a state of security? "Well, then, supposethat my friends have died in the places which are far from me." Whatelse 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 atthe same time not to see the death of any person whom you love? Knowyou not that in the course of a long time many and various kinds ofthings must happen; that a fever shall overpower one, a robberanother, and a third a tyrant? Such is the condition of thingsaround us, such are those who live with us in the world: cold andheat, and unsuitable ways of living, and journeys by land, and voyagesby sea, and winds, and various circumstances which surround us,destroy one man, and banish another, and throw one upon an embassy andanother into an army. Sit down, then, in a flutter at all thesethings, lamenting, unhappy, unfortunate, dependent on another, anddependent not on one or two, but on ten thousands upon ten thousands.  Did you hear this when you were with the philosophers? did you learnthis? do you not know that human life is a warfare? that one manmust 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 itbetter that it be so. But you, neglecting neglecting to do thecommands of the general, complain when anything more hard than usualis imposed on you, and you do not observe what you make the armybecome as far as it is in your power; that if all imitate you, noman will dig a trench, no man will put a rampart round, nor keepwatch, nor expose himself to danger, but will appear to be useless forthe 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 themast, refuse; if to run to the head of the ship, refuse; and whatmaster, of a ship will endure you? and will he not pitch you overboardas a useless thing, an impediment only and bad example to the othersailors? And so it is here also: every man's life is a kind ofwarfare, and it is long and diversified. You must observe the dutyof a soldier and do everything at the nod of the general; if it ispossible, divining what his wishes are: for there is no resemblancebetween that general and this, neither in strength nor insuperiority of character. You are placed in a great office ofcommand and not in any mean place; but you are always a senator. Doyou not know that such a man must give little time to the affairs ofhis household, but be often away from home, either as a governor orone who is governed, or discharging some office, or serving in waror acting as a judge? Then do you tell me that you wish, as a plant,to be fixed to the same places and to be rooted? "Yes, for it ispleasant." Who says that it is not? but a soup is pleasant, and ahandsome woman is pleasant. What else do those say who make pleasuretheir end? Do you not see of what men yon have uttered the language?that it is the language of Epicureans and catamites? Next while youare doing what they do and holding their opinions, do you speak tous the words of Zeno and of Socrates? Will you not throw away as faras you can the things belonging to others with which you decorateyourself, though they do not fit you at all? For what else do theydesire than to sleep without hindrance and free from compulsion, andwhen they have risen to yawn at their leisure, and to wash the face,then write and read what they choose, and then talk about sometrifling matter being praised by their friends whatever they maysay, then to go forth for a walk, and having walked about a littleto bathe, and then eat and sleep, such sleep as is the fashion of suchmen? why need we say how? for one can easily conjecture. Come, doyou also tell your own way of passing the time which you desire, youwho are an admirer of truth and of Socrates and Diogenes. What doyou wish to do in Athens? the same, or something else? Why then do youcall yourself a Stoic? Well, but they who falsely call themselvesRoman citizens, are severely punished; and should those, who falselyclaim so great and reverend a thing and name, get off unpunished? oris this not possible, but the law divine and strong and inevitableis this, which exacts the severest punishments from those who committhe greatest crimes? For what does this law say? "Let him who pretendsto things which do not belong to him be a boaster, a vainglorious man:let him who disobeys the divine administration be base, and a slave;let him suffer grief, let him be envious, let him pity; and in aword let him be unhappy and lament."  "Well then; do you wish me to pay court to a certain person? to goto his doors?" If reason requires this to be done for the sake ofcountry, for the sake of kinsmen, for the sake of mankind, whyshould you not go? You are not ashamed to go to the doors of ashoemaker, when you are in want of shoes, nor to the door of agardener, when you want lettuces; and are you ashamed to go to thedoors of the rich when you want anything? "Yes, for I have no awe of ashoemaker." Don't feel any awe of the rich. "Nor will I flatter thegardener." And do not flatter the rich. "How, then, shall I get what Iwant?" Do I say to you, "Go as if you were certain to get what youwant"? And do not I only tell you that you may do what is becomingto yourself? "Why, then, should I still go?" That you may have gone,that you may have discharged the duty of a citizen, of a brother, of afriend. And further remember that you have gone to the shoemaker, tothe seller of vegetables, who have no power in anything great ornoble, though he may sell dear. You go to buy lettuces: they cost anobolus, but not a talent. So it is here also. The matter is worthgoing for to the rich man's door. Well, I will go. It is worth talkingabout. Let it be so; I will talk with him. But you must also kisshis hand and flatter him with praise. Away with that, it is a talent'sworth: it is not profitable to me, nor to the state nor to my friends,to have done that which spoils a good citizen and a friend. "But youseem not to have been eager about the matter, if you do notsucceed." Have you again forgotten why you went? Know you not that agood man does nothing for the sake of appearance, but for the sakeof doing right? "What advantage is it, then, to him to have doneright?" And what advantage is it to a man who writes the name ofDion to write it as he ought? The advantage is to have written it. "Isthere no reward then?" Do you seek a reward for a good man greaterthan doing what is good and just? At Olympia you wish for nothingmore, but it seems to you enough to be crowned at the games. Does itseem to you so small and worthless a thing to be good and happy? Forthese purposes being introduced by the gods into this city, and itbeing now your duty to undertake the work of a man, do you stillwant nurses also and a mamma, and do foolish women by their weepingmove you and make you effeminate? Will you thus never cease to be afoolish child? know you not that he who does the acts of a child,the older he is, the more ridiculous he is?  In Athens did you see no one by going to his house? "I visited anyman that I pleased." Here also be ready to see, and you will seewhom you please: only let it be without meanness, neither withdesire nor with aversion, and your affairs will be well managed. Butthis result does not depend on going nor on standing at the doors, butit depends on what is within, on your opinions. When you havelearned not to value things which are external, and not dependent onthe will, and to consider that not one of them is your own, but thatthese things only are your own, to exercise the judgment well, to formopinions, to move toward an object, to desire, to turn from a thing,where is there any longer room for flattery, where for meanness? whydo you still long for the quiet there, and for the places to which youare accustomed? Wait a little and you will again find these placesfamiliar: then, if you are of so ignoble a nature, again if youleave these also, weep and lament.  "How then shall I become of an affectionate temper?" By being of anoble disposition, and happy. For it is not reasonable to bemeans-spirited nor to lament yourself, nor to depend on another, noreven to blame God or man. I entreat you, become an affectionate personin this way, by observing these rules. But if through thisaffection, as you name it, you are going to be a slave and wretched,there is no profit in being affectionate. And what prevents you fromloving another as a person subject to mortality, as one who may goaway from you. Did not Socrates love his own children? He did; butit was as a free man, as one who remembered that he must first be afriend to the gods. For this reason he violated nothing which wasbecoming to a good man, neither in making his defense nor by fixinga penalty on himself, nor even in the former part of his life whenhe was a senator or when be was a soldier. But we are fully suppliedwith every pretext for being of ignoble temper, some for the sake of achild, some for a mother, and others for brethren's sake. But it isnot fit for us to be unhappy on account of any person, but to be happyon account of all, but chiefly on account of God who has made us forthis end. Well, did Diogenes love nobody, who was so kind and somuch a lover of all that for mankind in general he willingly undertookso much labour and bodily sufferings? He did love mankind, but how? Asbecame a minister of God, at the same time caring for men, and beingalso subject to God. For this reason all the earth was his country,and no particular place; and when he was taken prisoner he did notregret Athens nor his associates and friends there, but even he becamefamiliar with the pirates and tried to improve them; and being soldafterward he lived in Corinth as before at Athens; and he would havebehaved the same, if he had gone to the country of the Perrhaebi. Thusis freedom acquired. For this reason he used to say, "Ever sinceAntisthenes made me free, I have not been a slave." How didAntisthenes make him free? Hear what he says: "Antisthenes taught mewhat is my own, and what is not my own; possessions are not my own,nor kinsmen, domestics, friends, nor reputation, nor placesfamiliar, nor mode of life; all these belong to others." What thenis your own? "The use of appearances. This be showed to me, that Ipossess it free from hindrance, and from compulsion, no person can putan obstacle in my way, no person can force me to use appearancesotherwise than I wish." Who then has any power over me? Philip orAlexander, or Perdiccas or the Great King? How have they this power?For if a man is going to be overpowered by a man, he must longbefore be overpowered by things. If, then, pleasure is not able tosubdue a man, nor pain, nor fame, nor wealth, but he is able, whenhe chooses, to spit out all his poor body in a man's face and departfrom life, whose slave can he still be? But if he dwelt withpleasure in Athens, and was overpowered by this manner of life, hisaffairs would have been at every man's command; the stronger wouldhave had the power of grieving him. How do you think that Diogeneswould have flattered the pirates that they might sell him to someAthenian, that some time he might see that beautiful Piraeus, andthe Long Walls and the Acropolis? In what condition would you seethem? As a captive, a slave and mean: and what would be the use ofit for you? "Not so: but I should see them as a free man." Show me,how you would be free. Observe, some person has caught you, wholeads you away from your accustomed place of abode and says, "Youare my slave, for it is in my power to hinder you from living as youplease, it is in my power to treat you gently, and to humble you: whenI choose, on the contrary you are cheerful and go elated to Athens."What do you say to him who treats you as a slave? What means haveyou of finding one who will rescue you from slavery? Or cannot youeven look him in the face, but without saying more do you entreat tobe set free? Man, you ought to go gladly to prison, hastening, goingbefore those who lead you there. Then, I ask you, are you unwilling tolive in Rome and desire to live in Hellas? And when you must die, willyou then also fill us with your lamentations, because you will not seeAthens nor walk about in the Lyceion? Have you gone abroad for this?was it for this reason you have sought to find some person from whomyou might receive benefit? What benefit? That you may solve syllogismsmore readily, or handle hypothetical arguments? and for this reasondid you leave brother, country, friends, your family, that you mightreturn when you had learned these things? So you did not go abroadto obtain constancy of mind, nor freedom from perturbation, nor inorder that, being secure from harm, you may never complain of anyperson, accuse no person, and no man may wrong you, and thus you maymaintain your relative position without impediment? This is a finetraffic that you have gone abroad for in syllogisms and sophisticalarguments and hypothetical: if you like, take your place in theagora and proclaim them for sale like dealers in physic. Will younot deny even all that you have learned that you may not bring a badname on your theorems as useless? What harm has philosophy done you?Wherein has Chrysippus injured you that you should prove by youracts that his labours are useless? Were the evils that you had therenot enough, those which were the cause of your pain and lamentation,even if you had not gone abroad? Have you added more to the list?And if you again have other acquaintances and friends, you will havemore causes for lamentation; and the same also if you take anaffection for another country. Why, then, do you live to surroundyourself with other sorrows upon sorrows through which you areunhappy? Then, I ask you, do you call this affection? Whataffection, man! If it is a good thing, it is the cause of no evil:if it is bad, I have nothing to do with it. I am formed by naturefor my own good: I am not formed for my own evil.  What then is the discipline for this purpose? First of all thehighest and the principal, and that which stands as it were at theentrance, is this; when you are delighted with anything, bedelighted as with a thing which is not one of those which cannot betaken away, but as with something of such a kind, as an earthen potis, or a glass cup, that, when it has been broken, you may rememberwhat it was and may not be troubled. So in this matter also: if youkiss your own child, or your brother or friend, never give fulllicense to the appearance, and allow not your pleasure to go as far asit chooses; but check it, and curb it as those who stand behind men intheir triumphs and remind them that they are mortal. Do you alsoremind yourself in like manner, that he whom you love is mortal, andthat what you love is nothing of your own: it has been given to youfor the present, not that it should not be taken from you, nor hasit been given to you for all time, but as a fig is given to you or abunch of grapes at the appointed season of the year. But if you wishfor these things in winter, you are a fool. So if you wish for yourson or friend when it is not allowed to you, you must know that youare 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 thingswhich are taken away according to its nature. And further, at thetimes when you are delighted with a thing, place before yourself thecontrary appearances. What harm is it while you are kissing your childto say with a lisping voice, "To-morrow you will die"; and to a friendalso, "To-morrow you will go away or I shall, and never shall we seeone another again"? "But these are words of bad omen." And someincantations also are of bad omen; but because they are useful, Idon't care for this; only let them be useful. "But do you callthings to be of bad omen except those which are significant of someevil?" Cowardice is a word of bad omen, and meanness of spirit, andsorrow, and grief and shamelessness. These words are of bad omen:and yet we ought not to hesitate to utter them in order to protectourselves against the things. Do you tell me that a name which issignificant of any natural thing is of evil omen? say that even forthe ears of corn to be reaped is of bad omen, for it signifies thedestruction of the ears, but not of the world. Say that the falling ofthe leaves also is of bad omen, and for the dried fig to take theplace of the green fig, and for raisins to be made from the grapes.For all these things are changes from a former state into otherstates; not a destruction, but a certain fixed economy andadministration. Such is going away from home and a small change:such is death, a greater change, not from the state which now is tothat which is not, but to that which is not now. "Shall I then nolonger exist?" You will not exist, but you be something else, of whichthe world now has need: for you also came into existence not whenyou chose, but when the world had need of you.  Wherefore the wise and good man, remembering who he is and whence hecame, and by whom he was produced, is attentive only to this, how hemay fill his place with due regularity and obediently to God. "DostThou still wish me to exist? I will continue to exist as free, asnoble in nature, as Thou hast wished me to exist: for Thou hast mademe free from hindrance in that which is my own. But hast Thou nofurther need of me? I thank Thee; and so far I have remained for Thysake, and for the sake of no other person, and now in obedience toThee I depart." "How dost thou depart?" Again, I say, as Thou hastpleased, as free, as Thy servant, as one who has known Thy commandsand Thy prohibitions. And so long as I shall stay in Thy service, whomdost Thou will me to be? A prince or a private man, a senator or acommon person, a soldier or a general, a teacher or a master of afamily? whatever place and position Thou mayest assign to me, asSocrates says, "I will die ten thousand times rather than desertthem." And where dost Thou will me to be? in Rome or Athens, or Thebesor Gyara. Only remember me there where I am. If Thou sendest me to aplace where there are no means for men living according to nature, Ishall not depart in disobedience to Thee, but as if Thou wast givingme the signal to retreat: I do not leave Thee, let this be to frommy intention, but perceive that Thou hast no need of me. If means ofliving according to nature be allowed me, I will seek no other placethan that in which I am, or other men than those among whom I am.  Let these thoughts be ready to hand by night and by day: these youshould write, these you should read: about these you should talk toyourself, and to others. Ask a man, "Can you help me at all for thispurpose?" and further, go to another and to another. Then ifanything that is said he contrary to your wish, this reflectionfirst will immediately relieve you, that it is not unexpected. Forit is a great thing in all cases to say, "I knew that I begot a sonwho 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, andlook to yourself, and seek the place from which comes that which hashappened, you will forthwith recollect that it comes from the place ofthings which are out of the power of the will, and of things which arenot my own. "What then is it to me?" Then, you will ask, and this isthe chief thing: "And who is it that sent it?" The leader, or thegeneral, the state, the law of the state. Give it me then, for Imust always obey the law in everything. Then, when the appearancepains you, for it is not in your power to prevent this, contendagainst it by the aid of reason, conquer it: do not allow it to gainstrength nor to lead you to the consequences by raising images such asit pleases and as it pleases. If you be in Gyara, do not imagine themode of living at Rome, and how many pleasures there were for himwho lived there and how many there would be for him who returned toRome: but fix your mind on this matter, how a man who lives in Gyaraought 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 thelife in Rome.  Then in the place of all other delights substitute this, that ofbeing conscious that you are obeying God, that, not in word but indeed, you are performing the acts of a wise and good man. For what athing it is for a man to be able to say to himself, "Now, whatever therest may say in solemn manner in the schools and may be judged to besaying in a way contrary to common opinion, this I am doing; andthey are sitting and are discoursing of my virtues and inquiring aboutme and praising me; and of this Zeus has willed that I shall receivefrom myself a demonstration, and shall myself know if He has a soldiersuch as He ought to have, a citizen such as He ought to have, and ifHe has chosen to produce me to the rest of mankind as a witness of thethings which are independent of the will: 'See that you fear withoutreason, that you foolishly desire what you do desire: seek not thegood in things external; seek it in yourselves: if you do not, youwill not find it.' For this purpose He leads me at one time hither, atanother time sends me thither, shows me to men as poor, withoutauthority, and sick; sends me to Gyara, leads me into prison, notbecause He hates me, far from him be such a meaning, for who hates thebest of his servants? nor yet because He cares not for me, for He doesnot neglect any even of the smallest things;' but He does this for thepurpose of exercising me and making use of me as a witness toothers. Being appointed to such a service, do I still care about theplace 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 Hisinstructions and commands?"  Having these things always in hand, and exercising them by yourself,and keeping them in readiness, you will never be in want of one tocomfort you and strengthen you. For it is not shameful to be withoutsomething to eat, but not to have reason sufficient for keeping awayfear and sorrow. But if once you have gained exemption from sorrow andfear, will there any longer be a tyrant for you, or a tyrant'sguard, or attendants on Caesar? Or shall any appointment to offices atcourt cause you pain, or shall those who sacrifice in the Capitol,on the occasion of being named to certain functions, cause pain to youwho have received so great authority from Zeus? Only do not make aproud display of it, nor boast of it; but show it by your acts; and ifno man perceives it, be satisfied that you are yourself in a healthystate and happy.  CHAPTER 25  To those who fall off 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 pleasedwhen you recall to memory the one and are pained about the other;and if it is possible, recover the things wherein you failed. For wemust not shrink when we are engaged in the greatest combat, but wemust even take blows. For the combat before us is not in wrestling andthe Pancration, in which both the successful and the unsuccessfulmay have the greatest merit, or may have little, and in truth may bevery fortunate or very unfortunate; but the combat is for good fortuneand happiness themselves. Well then, even if we have renounced thecontest in this matter, no man hinders us from renewing the combatagain, and we are not compelled to wait for another four years thatthe games at Olympia may come again; but as soon as you have recoveredand restored yourself, and employ the same zeal, you may renew thecombat 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 neverrenounced the combat. Only do not, through a habit of doing the samething, begin to do it with pleasure, and then like a bad athlete goabout after being conquered in all the circuit of the games likequails who have run away.  "The sight of a beautiful young girl overpowers me. Well, have I notbeen overpowered before? An inclination arises in me to find faultwith a person; for have I not found fault with him before?" Youspeak to us as if you had come off free from harm, just as if a manshould say to his physician who forbids him to bathe, "Have I notbathed before?" If, then, the physician can say to him, "Well, andwhat, then, happened to you after the bath? Had you not a fever, hadyou not a headache?" And when you found fault with a person lately,did you not do the act of a malignant person, of a trifling babbler;did you not cherish this habit in you by adding to it thecorresponding acts? And when you were overpowered by the young girl,did you come off unharmed? Why, then, do you talk of what you didbefore? You ought, I think, remembering what you did, as slavesremember the blows which they have received, to abstain from thesame faults. But the one case is not like the other; for in the caseof slaves the pain causes the remembrance: but in the case of yourfaults, what is the pain, what is the punishment; for when have youbeen accustomed to fly from evil acts? Sufferings, then, of the tryingcharacter are useful to us, whether we choose or not.  CHAPTER 26  To those who fear want  Are you not ashamed at more cowardly and more mean than fugitiveslaves? How do they when they run away leave their masters? on whatestates do they depend, and what domestics do they rely on? Do theynot, after stealing a little which is enough for the first days,then afterward move on through land or through sea, contriving onemethod after another for maintaining their lives? And what fugitiveslave ever died of hunger? But you are afraid lest necessary thingsshould fall 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 feverleads, or a stone that falls on you, to death. Have you not often saidthis 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 asto death?  "Yes: but my wife and children also suffer hunger." Well then,does their hunger lead to any other place? Is there not the samedescent to some place for them also? Is not there the same state belowfor them? Do you not choose, then, to look to that place full ofboldness against every want and deficiency, to that place to whichboth the richest and those who have held the highest offices, andkings themselves and tyrants must descend? or to which you willdescend hungry, if it should so happen, but they burst byindigestion and drunkenness. What beggar did you hardly ever see whowas not an old man, and even of extreme old age? But chilled with coldday and night, and lying on the ground, and eating only what isabsolutely necessary they approach near to the impossibility of dying.Cannot you write? Cannot you teach children? Cannot you be awatchman at another person's door? "But it is shameful to come to suchnecessity." 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 call you so, allow it.  Is that shameful to you which is not your own act, that of which youare not the cause, that which has come to you by accident, as aheadache, as a fever? If your parents were poor, and left theirproperty to others, and if while they live, they do not help you atall, is this shameful to you? Is this what you learned with thephilosophers? Did you never hear that the thing which is shamefulought 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 dohimself? Did you, then, make your father such as he is, or is it inyour 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 beashamed if you do not obtain them? And have you also been accustomedwhile you were studying philosophy to look to others and to hope fornothing from yourself? Lament then and groan and eat with fear thatyou may not have food to-morrow. Tremble about your poor slaves lestthey steal, lest they run away, lest they die. So live, and continueto live, you who in name only have approached philosophy and havedisgraced its theorems as far as you can by showing them to be uselessand unprofitable to those who take them up; you who have neversought constancy, freedom from perturbation, and from passions: youwho have not sought any person for the sake of this object, but manyfor the sake of syllogisms; you who have never thoroughly examined anyof these appearances by yourself, "Am I able to bear, or am I not ableto bear? What remains for me to do?" But as if all your affairs werewell and secure, you have been resting on the third topic, that ofthings being unchanged, in order that you may possess unchanged- what?cowardice, mean spirit, the admiration of the rich, desire withoutattaining any end, and avoidance which fails in the attempt? Aboutsecurity in these things you have been anxious.  Ought you not to have gained something in addition from reasonand, then, to have protected this with security? And whom did you eversee building a battlement all round and not encircling it with a wall?And what doorkeeper is placed with no door to watch? But youpractice in order to be able to prove- what? You practice that you maynot be tossed as on the sea through sophisms, and tossed about fromwhat? Show me first what you hold, what you measure, or what youweigh; and show me the scales or the medimnus; or how long will you goon measuring the dust? Ought you not to demonstrate those things whichmake men happy, which make things go on for them in the way as theywish, and why we ought to blame no man, accuse no man, and acquiescein the administration of the universe? Show me these. "See, I showthem: I will resolve syllogisms for you." This is the measure,slave; but it is not the thing measured. Therefore you are nowpaying the penalty for what you neglected, philosophy: you tremble,you lie awake, you advise with all persons; and if yourdeliberations are not likely to please all, you think that you havedeliberated ill. Then you fear hunger, as you suppose: but it is nothunger that you fear, but you are afraid that you will not have acook, that you will not have another to purchase provisions for thetable, a third to take off your shoes, a fourth to dress you, othersto rub you, and to follow you, in order that in the bath, when youhave taken off your clothes and stretched yourself out like thosewho are crucified you may be rubied on this side and on that, and thenthe aliptes may say, "Change his position, present the side, take holdof his head, show the shoulder"; and then when you have left thebath and gone home, you may call out, "Does no one bring somethingto eat?" And then, "Take away the tables, sponge them": you are afraidof this, that you may not be able to lead the life of a sick man.But learn the life of those who are in health, how slaves live, howlabourers, how those live who are genuine philosophers; how Socrateslived, who had a wife and children; how Diogenes lived, and howCleanthes, who attended to the school and drew water. If you choose tohave these things, you will have them everywhere, and you will live infull confidence. Confiding in what? In that alone in which a man canconfide, in that which is secure, in that which is not subject tohindrance, in that which cannot be taken away, that is, in your ownwill. And why have you made yourself so useless and good for nothingthat no man will choose to receive you into his house, no man totake care of you? but if a utensil entire and useful were cast abroad,every man who found it would take it up and think it a gain; but noman will take you up, and every man will consider you a loss. Socannot you discharge the office of a dog, or of a cock? Why then doyou choose to live any longer, when you are what you are?  Does any good man fear that he shall fall to have food? To the blindit does not fall, to the lame it does not: shall it fall to a goodman? And to a good soldier there does not fail to one who gives himpay, nor to a labourer, nor to a shoemaker: and to the good manshall there be wanting such a person? Does God thus neglect the thingsthat He has established, His ministers, His witnesses, whom alone Heemploys as examples to the uninstructed, both that He exists, andadministers well the whole, and does not neglect human affairs, andthat to a good man there is no evil either when he is living or whenhe is dead? What, then, when He does not supply him with food? Whatelse does He do than like a good general He has given me the signal toretreat? I obey, I follow, assenting to the words of the Commander,praising, His acts: for I came when it pleased Him, and I will also goaway when it pleases Him; and while I lived, it was my duty topraise God both by myself, and to each person severally and to many.He does not supply me with many things, nor with abundance, He doesnot will me to live luxuriously; for neither did He supply Herculeswho was his own son; but another was king of Argos and Mycenae, andHercules obeyed orders, and laboured, and was exercised. AndEurystheus was what he was, neither kin, of Argos nor of Mycenae,for he was not even king of himself; but Hercules was ruler and leaderof the whole earth and sea, who purged away lawlessness, andintroduced justice and holiness; and he did these things both nakedand alone. And when Ulysses was cast out shipwrecked, did wanthumiliate him, did it break his spirit? but how did he go off to thevirgins to ask for necessaries, to beg which is considered mostshameful?     As a lion bred in the mountains trusting in his strength.  Relying on what? Not on reputation nor on wealth nor on the power ofa magistrate, but on his own strength, that is, on his opinionsabout the things which are in our power and those which, are not.For these are the only things which make men free, which make themescape from hindrance, which raise the head of those who aredepressed, which make them look with steady eyes on the rich and ontyrants. And this was the gift given to the philosopher. But youwill not come forth bold, but trembling about your trifling garmentsand silver vessels. Unhappy man, have you thus wasted your time tillnow?  "What, then, if I shall be sick?" You will be sick in such a wayas you ought to be. "Who will take care of me?" God; your friends."I shall lie down on a hard bed." But you will lie down like a man. "Ishall not have a convenient chamber." You will be sick in aninconvenient chamber. "Who will provide for me the necessary food?"Those who provide for others also. You will be sick like Manes. "Andwhat, also, will be the end of the sickness? Any other than death?" Doyou then consider that this the chief of all evils to man and thechief mark of mean spirit and of cowardice is not death, but ratherthe fear of death? Against this fear then I advise you to exerciseyourself: to this let all your reasoning tend, your exercises, andreading; and you will know that thus only are men made free.DISCOURSES                                   BOOK FOUR  CHAPTER 1  About freedom  He is free who lives as he wishes to live; who is neither subject tocompulsion nor to hindrance, nor to force; whose movements to actionare not impeded, whose desires attain their purpose, and who doesnot fall into that which he would avoid. Who, then, chooses to live inerror? No man. Who chooses to live deceived, liable to mistake,unjust, unrestrained, discontented, mean? No man. Not one then ofthe bad lives as he wishes; nor is he, then, free. And who choosesto live in sorrow, fear, envy, pity, desiring and failing in hisdesires, attempting to avoid something and falling into it? Not one.Do we then find any of the bad free from sorrow, free from fear, whodoes not fall into that which he would avoid, and does not obtain thatwhich he wishes? Not one; nor then do we find any bad man free.  If, then, a man who has been twice consul should hear this, if youadd, "But you are a wise man; this is nothing to you": he willpardon you. But if you tell him the truth, and say, "You differ not atall from those who have been thrice sold as to being yourself not aslave," what else ought you to expect than blows? For he says,"What, I a slave, I whose father was free, whose mother was free, Iwhom no man can purchase: I am also of senatorial rank, and a friendof Caesar, and I have been a consul, and I own many slaves." In thefirst place, most excellent senatorial man, perhaps your father alsowas a slave in the same kind of servitude, and your mother, and yourgrandfather and all your ancestors in an ascending series. But even ifthey were as free as it is possible, what is this to you? What if theywere of a noble nature, and you of a mean nature; if they werefearless, and you a coward; if they had the power of self-restraint,and you are not able to exercise it.  "And what," you may say, "has this to do with being a slave?" Doesit seem to you to be nothing to do a thing unwillingly, withcompulsion, with groans, has this nothing to do with being a slave?"It is something," you say: "but who is able to compel me, exceptthe lord of all, Caesar?" Then even you yourself have admitted thatyou have one master. But that he is the common master of all, as yousay, let not this console you at all: but know that you are a slave ina great family. So also the people of Nicopolis are used to exclaim,"By the fortune of Caesar, are free."  However, if you please, let us not speak of Caesar at present. Buttell me this: did you never love any person, a young girl, or slave,or free? What then is this with respect to being a slave or free? Wereyou never commanded by the person beloved to do something which youdid not wish to do? have you never flattered your little slave? haveyou never kissed her feet? And yet if any man compelled you to kissCaesar's feet, you would think it an insult and excessive tyranny.What else, then, is slavery? Did you never go out by night to someplace whither you did not wish to go, did you not expend what youdid not wish to expend, did you not utter words with sighs and groans,did you not submit to abuse and to be excluded? But if you are ashamedto confess your own acts, see what Thrasonides says and does, whohaving seen so much military service as perhaps not even you have,first of all went out by night, when Geta does not venture out, but ifhe were compelled by his master, would have cried out much and wouldhave gone out lamenting his bitter slavery. Next, what doesThrasonides say? "A worthless girl has enslaved me, me whom noenemy, ever did." Unhappy man, who are the slave even of a girl, and aworthless girl. Why then do you still call yourself free? and why doyou talk of your service in the army? Then he calls for a sword and isangry with him who out of kindness refuses it; and he sends presentsto her who hates him, and entreats and weeps, and on the other hand,having had a little success, he is elated. But even then how? was hefree enough neither to desire nor to fear?  Now consider in the case of animals, how we employ the notion ofliberty. Men keep tame lions shut up, and feed them, and some takethem about; and who will say that this lion is free? Is it not thefact that the more he lives at his ease, so much the more he is in aslavish condition? and who if he had perception and reason wouldwish to be one of these lions? Well, these birds when they arecaught and are kept shut up, how much do they suffer in their attemptsto escape? and some of them die of hunger rather than submit to such akind of life. And as many of them as live, hardly live and withsuffering pine away; and if they ever find any opening, they maketheir escape. So much do they desire their natural liberty, and tobe independent and free from hindrance. And what harm is there toyou in this? "What do you say? I am formed by nature to fly where Ichoose, to live in the open air, to sing when I choose: you deprive meof all this, and say, 'What harm is it to you?' For this reason weshall say that those animals only are free which cannot endurecapture, but, as soon as they are caught, escape from captivity bydeath. So Diogenes says that there is one way to freedom, and thatis to die content: and he writes to the Persian king, "You cannotenslave the Athenian state any more than you can enslave fishes." "Howis that? cannot I catch them?" "If you catch them," says Diogenes,"they will immediately leave you, as fishes do; for if you catch afish, it dies; and if these men that are caught shall die, of what useto you is the preparation for war?" These are the words of a freeman who had carefully examined the thing and, as was natural, haddiscovered it. But if you look for it in a different place fromwhere it is, what wonder if you never find it?  The slave wishes to be set free immediately. Why? Do you thinkthat he wishes to pay money to the collectors of twentieths? No; butbecause he imagines that hitherto through not having obtained this, heis hindered and unfortunate. "If I shall be set free, immediately itis all happiness, I care for no man, I speak to all as an equal and,like to them, I go where I choose, I come from any place I choose, andgo where I choose." Then he is set free; and forthwith having no placewhere he can eat, he looks for some man to flatter, some one with whomhe shall sup: then he either works with his body and endures themost dreadful things; and if he can obtain a manger, he falls into aslavery much worse than his former slavery; or even if he is becomerich, being a man without any knowledge of what is good, he loves somelittle girl, and in his happiness laments and desires to be a slaveagain. He says, "what evil did I suffer in my state of slavery?Another clothed me, another supplied me with shoes, another fed me,another looked after me in sickness; and I did only a few services forhim. But now a wretched man, what things I suffer, being a slave ofmany instead of to one. But however," he says, "if I shall acquirerings, then I shall live most prosperously and happily." First, inorder to acquire these rings, he submits to that which he is worthyof; then, when he has acquired them, it is again all the same. Then hesays, "if I shall be engaged in military service, I am free from allevils." He obtains military service. He suffers as much as a floggedslave, and nevertheless he asks for a second service and a third.After this, when he has put the finishing stroke to his career andis become a senator, then he becomes a slave by entering into theassembly, then he serves the finer and most splendid slavery- not tobe a fool, but to learn what Socrates taught, what is the nature ofeach thing that exists, and that a man should not rashly adaptpreconceptions to the several things which are. For this is thecause to men of all their evils, the not being able to adapt thegeneral preconceptions to the several things. But we have differentopinions. One man thinks that he is sick: not so however, but the factis that he does not adapt his preconceptions right. Another thinksthat he is poor; another that he has a severe father or mother; andanother, again, that Caesar is not favourable to him. But all thisis one and only one thing, the not knowing how to adapt thepreconceptions. For who has not a preconception of that which isbad, that it is hurtful, that it ought to be avoided, that it ought inevery way to be guarded against? One preconception is not repugnant toanother, only where it comes to the matter of adaptation. What then isthis evil, which is both hurtful, and a thing to be avoided? Heanswers, "Not to be Caesar's friend." He is gone far from the mark, hehas missed the adaptation, he is embarrassed, he seeks the thingswhich are not at all pertinent to the matter; for when he hassucceeded in being Caesar's friend, nevertheless he has failed infinding what he sought. For what is that which every man seeks? Tolive secure, to be happy, to do everything as he wishes, not to behindered, nor compelled. When then he is become the friend ofCaesar, is he free from hindrance? free from compulsion, is hetranquil, is he happy? Of whom shall we inquire? What more trustworthywitness have we than this very man who is, become Caesar's friend?Come forward and tell us when did you sleep more quietly, now orbefore you became Caesar's friend? Immediately you hear the answer,"Stop, I entreat you, and do not mock me: you know not what miseries Isuffer, and sleep does not come to me; but one comes and says, 'Caesaris already awake, he is now going forth': then come troubles andcares." Well, when did you sup with more pleasure, now or before? Hearwhat he says about this also. He says that if he is not invited, he ispained: and if he is invited, he sups like a slave with his master,all the while being anxious that he does not say or do anythingfoolish. And what do you suppose that he is afraid of; lest heshould be lashed like a slave? How can he expect anything so good? No,but as befits so great a man, Caesar's friend, he is afraid that hemay lose his head. And when did you bathe more free from trouble,and take your gymnastic exercise more quietly? In fine, which kindof life did you prefer? your present or your former life? I canswear that no man is so stupid or so ignorant of truth as not tobewail his own misfortunes the nearer he is in friendship to Caesar.  Since, then, neither those who are called kings live as they choose,nor the friends of kings, who finally are those who are free? Seek,and you will find; for you have aids from nature for the discoveryof truth. But if you are not able yourself by going along these waysonly to discover that which follows, listen to those who have made theinquiry. What do they say? Does freedom seem to you a good thing? "Thegreatest good." Is it possible, then, that he who obtains the greatestgood can be unhappy or fare badly? "No." Whomsoever, then, you shallsee unhappy, unfortunate, lamenting, confidently declare that they arenot free. "I do declare it." We have now, then, got away from buyingand selling and from such arrangements about matters of property;for if you have rightly assented to these matters, if the Great Kingis unhappy, he cannot be free, nor can a little king, nor a man ofconsular rank, nor one who has been twice consul. "Be it so."  Further, then, answer me this question also: Does freedom seem toyou to be something great and noble and valuable? "How should it notseem so?" Is it possible, then, when a man obtains anything, sogreat and valuable and noble to be mean? "It is not possible." When,then, you see any man subject to another, or flattering him contraryto 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 itfor a government or a consulship: and call these men "little slaves"who for the sake of little matters do these things, and those who doso for the sake of great things call "great slaves," as they deserveto be. "This is admitted also." Do you think that freedom is a thingindependent and self-governing? "Certainly." Whomsoever, then, it isin the power of another to hinder and compel, declare that he is notfree. And do not look, I entreat you, after his grandfathers andgreat-grandfathers, or inquire about his being bought or sold; butif you hear him saying from his heart and with feeling, "Master," evenif the twelve fasces precede him, call him a slave. And if you hearhim say, "Wretch that I am, how much I suffer," call him a slave.If, finally, you see him lamenting, complaining, unhappy, call him aslave though he wears a praetexta. If, then, he is doing nothing ofthis kind, do not yet say that he is free, but learn his opinions,whether they are subject to compulsion, or may produce hindrance, orto bad fortune; and if you find him such, call him a slave who has aholiday in the Saturnalia: say that his master is from home: he willreturn soon, and you will know what he suffers. "Who will return?"Whoever has in himself the power over anything which is desired by theman, either to give it to him or to take it away? "Thus, then, have wemany masters?" We have: for we have circumstances as masters priorto our present masters; and these circumstances are many. Therefore itmust of necessity be that those who have the power over any of thesecircumstances must be our masters. For no man fears Caesar himself,but he fears death, banishment, deprivation of his property, prison,and disgrace. Nor does any man love Caesar, unless Caesar is aperson of great merit, but he loves wealth, the office of tribune,praetor or consul. When we love, and hate, and fear these things, itmust be that those who have the power over them must be our masters.Therefore we adore them even as gods; for we think that what possessesthe power of conferring the greatest advantage on us is divine. Thenwe wrongly assume that a certain person has the power of conferringthe greatest advantages; therefore he is something divine. For if wewrongly assume that a certain person has the power of conferring thegreatest advantages, it is a necessary consequence that the conclusionfrom these premises must be false.  What, then, is that which makes a man free from hindrance andmakes him his own master? For wealth does not do it, nor consulship,nor provincial government, nor royal power; but something else must bediscovered. What then is that which, when we write, makes us free fromhindrance and unimpeded? "The knowledge of the art of writing."What, then, is it in playing the lute? "The science of playing thelute." Therefore in life also it is the science of life. You have,then, heard in a general way: but examine the thing also in theseveral parts. Is it possible that he who desires any of the thingswhich depend on others can be free from hindrance? "No." Is itpossible 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 ownpower, and others in the power of others. "What do you mean?" When youwish the body to be entire, is it in your power or not? "It is notin my power." When you wish it to be healthy? "Neither is this in mypower." 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." Butyour estate, is it in your power to have it when you please, and aslong 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 yourchildren to live, or your wife, or your brother, or your friends, isit in your power? "This also is not in my power."  Whether, then, have you nothing which is in your own power, whichdepends on yourself only and cannot be taken from you, or have youanything of the kind? "I know not." Look at the thing, then, thus,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 hindranceand obstruction. "Granted." Well; and can a man force you to desire tomove toward that to which you do not choose? "He can, for when hethreatens me with death or bonds, he compels me to desire to movetoward it." If, then, you despise death and bonds, do you still payany regard to him? "No." Is, then, the despising of death an act ofyour own, or is it not yours? "It is my act." It is your own act,then, also to desire to move toward a thing: or is it not so? "It ismy own act." But to desire to move away from a thing, whose act isthat? This also is your act. "What, then, if I have attempted to walk,suppose another should hinder me." What part of you does he hinder?does he hinder the faculty of assent? "No: but my poor body." Yes,as he would do with a stone. "Granted; but I no longer walk." Andwho told you that walking is your act free from hindrance? for Isaid that this only was free from hindrance, to desire to move: butwhere there is need of body and its co-operation, you have heardlong ago that nothing is your own. "Granted also." And who cancompel you to desire what you do not wish? "No man." And to propose,or intend, or in short to make use of the appearances which presentthemselves, can any man compel you? "He cannot do this: but he willhinder me when I desire from obtaining what I desire." If you desireanything which is your own, and one of the things which cannot behindered, how will he hinder you? "He cannot in any way." Who, then,tells you that he who desires the things that belong to another isfree from hindrance?  "Must I, then, not desire health?" By no means, nor anything elsethat belongs to another: for what is not in your power to acquire orto keep when you please, this belongs to another. Keep, then, far fromit not only your hands but, more than that, even your desires. Ifyou do not, you have surrendered yourself as a slave; you havesubjected your neck, if you admire anything not your own, toeverything that is dependent on the power of others and perishable, towhich you have conceived a liking. "Is not my hand my own?" It is apart of your own body; but it is by nature earth, subject tohindrance, compulsion, and the slave of everything which isstronger. And why do I say your hand? You ought to possess yourwhole body as a poor ass loaded, as long as it is possible, as long asyou are allowed. But if there be a press, and a soldier should layhold of it, let it go, do not resist, nor murmur; if you do, youwill receive blows, and nevertheless you will also lose the ass. Butwhen you ought to feel thus with respect to the body, consider whatremains to be done about all the rest, which is provided for thesake of the body. When the body is an ass, all the other things arebits belonging to the ass, pack-saddles, shoes, barley, fodder. Letthese also go: get rid of them quicker and more readily than of theass.  When you have made this preparation, and have practiced thisdiscipline, to distinguish that which belongs to another from thatwhich is your own, the things which are subject to hindrance fromthose which are not, to consider the things free from hindrance toconcern yourself, and those which are not free not to concernyourself, to keep your desire steadily fixed to the things which doconcern yourself, and turned from the things which do not concernyourself; do you still fear any man? "No one." For about what will yoube afraid? about the things which are your own, in which consiststhe 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 morethan he can impede God. But will you be afraid about your body andyour possessions, about things which are not yours, about things whichin no way concern you? and what else have you been studying from thebeginning than to distinguish between your own and not your own, thethings which are in your power and not in your power, the thingssubject to hindrance and not subject? and why have you come to thephilosophers? was it that you may nevertheless be unfortunate andunhappy? You will then in this way, as I have supposed you to havedone, be without fear and disturbance. And what is grief to you? forfear comes from what you expect, but grief from that which is present.But what further will you desire? For of the things which are withinthe power of the will, as being good and present, you have a properand regulated desire: but of the things which are not in the powerof the will you do not desire any one, and so you do not allow anyplace to that which is irrational, and impatient, and above measurehasty.  When, then, you are thus affected toward things, what man can anylonger be formidable to you? For what has a man which is formidable toanother, either when you see him or speak to him or, finally, areconversant with him? Not more than one horse has with respect toanother, or one dog to another, or one bee to another bee. Things,indeed, are formidable to every man; and when any man is able toconfer these things on another or to take them away, then he toobecomes formidable. How then is an acropolis demolished? Not by thesword, not by fire, but by opinion. For if we abolish the acropoliswhich is in the city, can we abolish also that of fever, and that ofbeautiful women? Can we, in a word, abolish the acropolis which isin us and cast out the tyrants within us, whom we have dally overus, sometimes the same tyrants, at other times different tyrants?But with this we must begin, and with this we must demolish theacropolis and eject the tyrants, by giving up the body, the parts ofit, the faculties of it, the possessions, the reputation,magisterial offices, honours, children, brothers, friends, byconsidering all these things as belonging to others. And if tyrantshave been ejected from us, why do I still shut in the acropolis by awall of circumvallation, at least on my account; for if it stillstands, what does it do to me? why do I still eject guards? Forwhere do I perceive them? against others they have their fasces, andtheir spears, and their swords. But I have never been hindered in mywill, nor compelled when I did not will. And how is this possible? Ihave placed my movements toward action in obedience to God. Is itHis will that I shall have fever? It is my will also. Is it His willthat I should move toward anything? It is my will also. Is it His willthat I should obtain anything? It is my wish also. Does He not will? Ido not wish. Is it His will that I be put to the rack? It is my willthen to die; it is my will then to be put to the rack. Who, then, isstill able to hinder me contrary to my own judgement, or to compel me?No more than he can hinder or compel Zeus.  Thus the more cautious of travelers also act. A traveler has heardthat the road is infested by robbers; he does not venture to enteron it alone, but he waits for the companionship on the road eitherof an ambassador, or of a quaestor, or of a proconsul, and when he hasattached himself to such persons he goes along the road safely. Soin the world the wise man acts. There are many companies of robbers,tyrants, storms, difficulties, losses of that which is dearest. "Whereis there any place of refuge? how shall he pass along without beingattacked by robbers? what company shall he wait for that he may passalong in safety? to whom shall he attach himself? To what persongenerally? to the rich man, to the man of consular rank? and what isthe use of that to me? Such a man is stripped himself, groans andlaments. But what if the fellow-companion himself turns against me andbecomes my robber, what shall I do? I will be 'a friend of Caesar':when I am Caesar's companion no man will wrong me. In the first place,that I may become illustrious, what things must I endure and suffer?how often and by how many must I he robbed? Then, if I become Caesar'sfriend, he also is mortal. And if Caesar from any circumstance becomesmy enemy, where is it best for me to retire? Into a desert? Well, doesfever not come there? What shall be done then? Is it not possible tofind a safe fellow traveler, a faithful one, strong, secure againstall surprises?" Thus he considers and perceives that if he attacheshimself to God, he will make his journey in safety.  "How do you understand 'attaching yourself to God'?" In thissense, that whatever God wills, a man also shall will; and what Goddoes not will, a man shall not will. How, then, shall this he done? Inwhat other way than by examining the movements of God and hisadministration What has He given to me as my own and in my ownpower? what has He reserved to Himself? He has given to me thethings which are in the power of the will: He has put them in my powerfree from impediment and hindrance. How was He able to make theearthly body free from hindrance? And accordingly He has subjectedto the revolution of the whole, possessions, household things,house, children, wife. Why, then, do I fight against God? why do Iwill what does not depend on the will? why do I will to haveabsolutely what is not granted to ma? But how ought I to will tohave things? In the way in which they are given and as long as theyare given. But He who has given takes away. Why then do I resist? I donot say that I shall be fool if I use force to one who is stronger,but I shall first be unjust. For whence had I things when I cameinto the world? My father gave them to me. And who gave them to him?and who made the sun? and who made the fruits of the earth? and whothe seasons? and who made the connection of men with one another andtheir fellowship?  Then after receiving everything from another and even yourself,are you angry and do you blame the Giver if he takes anything fromyou? Who are you, and for what purpose did you come into the world?Did not He introduce you here, did He not show you the light, did henot give you fellow-workers, and perception, and reason? and as whomdid He introduce you here? did He not introduce you as a subject todeath, and as one to live on the earth with a little flesh, and toobserve His administration, and to join with Him in the spectacleand the festival for a short time? Will you not, then, as long asyou have been permitted, after seeing the spectacle and the solemnity,when he leads you out, go with adoration of Him and thanks for whatyou have seen, and heard? "No; but I would, still enjoy the feast."The initiated, too, would wish to be longer in the initiation: andperhaps also those, at Olympia to see other athletes; but thesolemnity is ended: go away like a grateful and modest man; makeroom for others: others also must be born, as you were, and being bornthey must have a place, and houses and necessary things. And if thefirst do not retire, what remains? Why ire you insatiable? Why are younot content? why do you contract the world? "Yes, but I would havemy little children with me and my wife." What, are they yours? do theynot belong to the Giver, and to Him who made you? then will you notgive up what belongs to others? will you not give way to Him who issuperior? "Why, then, did He introduce me into the world on theseconditions," And if the conditions do not suit you depart. He has noneed of a spectator who is not satisfied. He wants those who join inthe festival, those who take part in the chorus, that they mayrather applaud, admire, and celebrate with hymns the solemnity. Butthose who can bear no trouble, and the cowardly He will notwillingly see absent from the great assembly; for they did not whenthey were present behave as they ought to do at a festival nor fill uptheir place properly, but they lamented, found fault with the deity,fortune, their companions; not seeing both what they had. and theirown powers, which they received for contrary purposes, the powers ofmagnanimity, of a generous mind, manly spirit, and what we are nowinquiring about, freedom. "For what purpose, then, have I receivedthese things? To use them. "How long;" So long as He who his lent themchooses. "What if they are necessary to me?" Do not attach yourself tothem and they will not be necessary: do not say to yourself thatthey are necessary, and then they are not necessary.  This study you ought to practice from morning to evening, beginning,with the smallest things and those most liable to damage, with anearthen pot, with a cup. Then proceed in this way to a tunic to alittle dog, to a horse, to a small estate in land: then to yourself,to your body, to the parts of your body, to your brothers. Look allround and throw these things from you. Purge your opinions so thatnothing cleave to you of the things which are not your own, thatnothing grow to you, that nothing give you pain when it is torn fromyou; and say, while you are daily exercising yourself as you do there,not that you are philosophizing, for this is an arrogant expression,but that you are presenting an asserter of freedom: for this is reallyfreedom. To this freedom Diogenes was called by Antisthenes, and hesaid that he could no longer be enslaved by any man. For this reasonwhen he was taken prisoner, how did he behave to the pirates? Did hecall any of them master? and I do not speak of the name, for I amnot afraid of the word, but of the state of mind by which the wordis produced. How did he reprove them for feeding badly their captives?How was he sold? Did he seek a master? no; but a slave, And, when hewas sold, how did he behave to his master? Immediately he disputedwith him and said to his master that he ought not to be dressed ashe was, nor shaved in such a manner; and about the children he toldthem how he ought to bring them up. And what was strange in this?for if his master had bought an exercise master, would he haveemployed him in the exercises of the palaestra as a servant or as amaster? and so if he had bought a physician or an architect. And so,in every matter, it is absolutely necessary that he who has skill mustbe the superior of him who has not. Whoever, then, generally possessesthe science of life, what else must he be than master? For who ismaster of a ship? "The man who governs the helm." Why? Because hewho will not obey him suffers for it. "But a master can give mestripes." Can he do it, then, without suffering for it?' "So I alsoused to think." But because he can not do it without suffering for it,for this reason it is not in his power: and no man can do what isunjust without suffering for it. "And what is the penalty for himwho puts his own slave in chains, what do you think that is?" The factof putting the slave in chains: and you also will admit this, if youchoose to maintain the truth, that man is not a wild beast, but a tameanimal. For when is a a vine doing badly? When it is in a conditioncontrary to its nature. When is a cock? Just the same. Therefore a manalso is so. What then is a man's nature? To bite, to kick, and tothrow into prison and to behead? No; but to do good, to co-operatewith others, to wish them well. At that time, then, he is in a badcondition, whether you choose to admit it or not, when he is actingfoolishly.  "Socrates, then, did not fare badly?" No; but his judges aid hisaccusers did. "Nor did Helvidius at Rome fare badly?" No; but hismurderer did. "How do you mean?" The same as you do when you saythat a cock has not fared badly when he has gained the victory andbeen severely wounded; but that the cock has fared badly when he hasbeen defeated and is unhurt: nor do you call a dog fortunate whoneither pursues game nor labors, but when you see him sweating, whenyou see him in pain and panting violently after running. Whatparadox do we utter if we say that the evil in everything's that whichis contrary to the nature of the thing? Is that a paradox? for doyou not say this in the case of all other things? Why then in the caseof man only do you think differently, But because we say that thenature of man is tame and social and faithful, you will not say thatthis is a paradox? "It is not." What then is it a paradox to saythat a man is not hurt when he is whipped, or put in chains, orbeheaded? does he not, if he suffers nobly, come off even withincreased advantage and profit? But is he not hurt, who suffers in amost pitiful and disgraceful way, who in place of a man becomes awolf, or viper or wasp?  Well then let us recapitulate the things which have been agreedon. The man who is not under restraint is free, to whom things areexactly in that state in which he wishes them to be; but he who can berestrained or compelled or hindered, or thrown into anycircumstances against his will, is a slave. But who is free fromrestraint? He who desires nothing that belongs to others. And what arethe things which belong to others? Those which are not in our powereither to have or not to have, or to have of a certain kind or in acertain manner. Therefore the body belongs to another, the parts ofthe body belong to another, possession belongs to another. If, then,you are attached to any of these things as your own, you will paythe penalty which it is proper for him to pay who desires what belongsto another. This road leads to freedom, that is the only way ofescaping from slavery, to be able to say at last with all your soul     Lead me, O Zeus, and thou O destiny,     The way that I am bid by you to go.But what do you say, philosopher? The tyrant summons you to saysomething which does not become you. Do you say it or do you not?Answer me. "Let me consider." Will you consider now? But when you werein the school, what was it which you used to consider? Did you notstudy what are the things that are good and what are bad, and whatthings are neither one nor the other? "I did." What then was ouropinion? "That just and honourable acts were good; and that unjust anddisgraceful acts were bad." Is life a good thing? "No." Is death a badthing? "No." Is prison? "No." But what did we think about mean andfaithless words and betrayal of a friend and flattery of a tyrant?"That they are bad." Well then, you are not considering, nor haveyou considered nor deliberated. For what is the matter forconsideration: is it whether it is becoming for me, when I have itin my power, to secure for myself the greatest of good things, and notto secure for myself the greatest evils? A fine inquiry indeed, andnecessary, and one that demands much deliberation. Man, why do youmock us? Such an inquiry is never made. If you really imagined thatbase things were bad and honourable things were good, and that allother things were neither good nor bad, you would not even haveapproached this inquiry, nor have come near it; but immediately youwould have been able to distinguish them by the understanding as youwould do by the vision. For when do you inquire if black things arewhite, if heavy things are light, and do not comprehend the manifestevidence of the senses? How, then, do you now say that you areconsidering whether things which are neither good nor bad ought tobe avoided more than things which are bad? But you do not possessthese opinions; and neither do these things seem to you to heneither good nor bad, but you think that they are the greatestevils; nor do you think those other things to be evils, but matterswhich do not concern us at all. For thus from the beginning you haveaccustomed yourself. "Where am I? In the schools: and are anylistening to me? I am discoursing among philosophers. But I havegone out of the school. Away with this talk of scholars and fools."Thus a friend is overpowered by the testimony of a philosopher: thus aphilosopher becomes a parasite; thus he lets himself for hire formoney: thus in the senate a man does not say what he thinks; inprivate he proclaims his opinions. You are a cold and miserable littleopinion, suspended from idle words as from a hair. But keep yourselfstrong and fit for the uses of life and initiated by being exercisedin action. How do you hear? I do not say that your child is dead-for how could you bear that?- but that your oil is spilled, yourwine drunk up. Do you act in such a way that one standing by you whileyou are making a great noise, may say this only, "Philosopher, you saysomething different in the school. Why do you deceive us? Why, whenyou are only a worm, do you say that you are a man?" I should liketo be present when one of the philosophers is lying with a woman, thatI might see how he is exerting himself, and what words he is uttering,and whether he remembers his title of philosopher, and the words whichhe hears or says or reads.  "And what is this to liberty?" Nothing else than this, whether youwho are rich choose or not. "And who is your evidence for this?" whoelse than yourselves? who have a powerful master, and who live inobedience to his nod and motion, and who faint if he only looks at youwith a scowling countenance; you who court old women and old men,and say, "I cannot do this: it is not in my power." Why is it not inyour power? Did you not lately contend with me and say that you arefree "But Aprulla has hindered me." Tell the truth, then, slave, anddo not run away from your masters, nor deny, nor venture to produceany one to assert your freedom, when you have so many evidences ofyour slavery. And indeed when a man is compelled by love to dosomething contrary to his opinion, and at the same time sees thebetter but has not the strength to follow it, one might consider himstill more worthy of excuse as being held by a certain violent and, ina manner, a divine power. But who could endure you who are in lovewith old women and old men, and wipe the old women's noses, and washthem and give them presents, and also wait on them like a slave whenthey are sick, and at the same time wish them dead, and question thephysicians whether they are sick unto death? And again, when inorder to obtain these great and much admired magistracies and honours,you kiss the hands of these slaves of others, and so you are not theslave even of free men. Then you walk about before me in statelyfashion, praetor or a consul. Do I not know how you became apraetor, by what means you got your consulship, who gave it to you?I would not even choose to live, if I must live by help of Felicionand endure his arrogance and servile insolence: for I know what aslave is, who is fortunate, as he thinks, and puffed up by pride.  "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 stillvalue 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 freeman, that you may no longer seek an example. Diogenes was free. Howwas he free?- not because he was born of free parents, but becausehe was himself free, because he had cast off all the handles ofslavery, and it was not possible for any man to approach him, norhad any man the means of laying hold of him to enslave him. He hadeverything easily loosed, everything only hanging to him. If youlaid hold of his property, he would rather have let it go and be yoursthan he would have followed you for it: if you had laid hold of hisleg, he would have let go his leg; if of all his body, all his poorbody; his intimates, friends, country, just the same. For he knew fromwhence he had them, and from whom, and on what conditions. His trueparents indeed, the Gods, and his real country he would never havedeserted, nor would he have yielded to any man in obedience to them orto their orders, nor would any man have died for his country morereadily. For he was not used to inquire when he should be consideredto have done anything on behalf of the whole of things, but heremembered that everything which is done comes from thence and is doneon behalf of that country and is commanded by him who administersit. Therefore see what Diogenes himself says and writes: "For thisreason," he says, "Diogenes, it is in your power to speak both withthe King of the Persians and with Archidamus the king of theLacedaemonians, as you please." Was it because he was born of freeparents? I suppose all the Athenians and all the Lacedaemonians,because they were born of slaves, could not talk with them as theywished, but feared and paid court to them. Why then does he say thatit is in his power? "Because I do not consider the poor body to bemy own, because I want nothing, because law is everything to me, andnothing else is." These were the things which permitted him to befree.  And that you may not think that I show you the example of a manwho is a solitary person, who has neither wife nor children, norcountry, nor friends nor kinsmen, by whom he could be bent and drawnin various directions, take Socrates and observe that he had a wifeand children, but he did not consider them as his own; that he had acountry, so long as it was fit to have one, and in such a manner aswas fit; friends and kinsmen also, but he held all in subjection tolaw and to the obedience due to it. For this reason he was the firstto go out as a soldier, when it was necessary; and in war he exposedhimself to danger most unsparingly, and when he was sent by thetyrants to seize Leon, he did not even deliberate about the matter,because he thought that it was a base action, and he knew that he mustdie, if it so happened. And what difference did that make to him?for he intended to preserve something else, not his poor flesh, buthis fidelity, his honourable character. These are things which couldnot be assailed nor brought into subjection. Then, when he was obligedto speak in defense of his life, did he behave like a man who hadchildren, who had a wife? No, but he behaved like a man who hasneither. And what did he do when he was to drink the poison, andwhen he had the power of escaping from prison, and when Crito saidto him, "Escape for the sake of your children," what did Socrates say?Did he consider the power of escape as an unexpected gain? By nomeans: he considered what was fit and proper; but the rest he didnot even look at or take into the reckoning. For he did not choose, hesaid, to save his poor body, but to save that which is increased andsaved by doing what is just, and is impaired and destroyed by doingwhat is unjust. Socrates will not save his life by a base act; hewho would not put the Athenians to the vote when they clamoured thathe should do so, he who refused to obey the tyrants, he who discoursedin such a manner about virtue and right behavior. It is not possibleto save such a man's life by base acts, but he is saved by dying,not by running away. For the good actor also preserves his characterby stopping when he ought to stop, better than when he goes onacting beyond the proper time. What then shall the children ofSocrates do? "If," said Socrates, "I had gone off to Thessaly, wouldyou have taken care of them; and if I depart to the world below,will there be no man to take care of them?" See how he gives todeath a gentle name and mocks it. But if you and I had been in hisplace, we should have immediately answered as philosophers thatthose who act unjustly must be repaid in the same way, and we shouldhave added, "I shall be useful to many, if my life is saved, and ifI die, I shall be useful to no man." For, if it had been necessary, weshould have made our escape by slipping through a small hole. Andhow in that case should we have been useful to any man? for wherewould they have been then staying? or if we were useful to men whilewe were alive, should we not have been much more useful to them bydying when we ought to die, and as we ought? And now, Socrates beingdead, no less useful to men, and even more useful, is theremembrance of that which he did or said when he was alive.  Think of these things, these opinions, these words: look to theseexamples, if you would be free, if you desire the thing according toits worth. And what is the wonder if you buy so great a thing at theprice of things so many and so great? For the sake of this which iscalled "liberty," some hang themselves, others throw themselves downprecipices, and sometimes even whole cities have perished: and willyou not for the sake of the true and unassailable and secure libertygive 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 enduretorture, and exile, and scourging, and, in a word, to give up allwhich is not your own? If you will not, you will be a slave amongslaves, even you be ten thousand times a consul; and if you makeyour way up to the Palace, you will no less be a slave; and you willfeel, that perhaps philosophers utter words which are contrary tocommon opinion, as Cleanthes also said, but not words contrary toreason. For you will know by experience that the words are true, andthat there is no profit from the things which are valued and eagerlysought to those who have obtained them; and to those who have notyet obtained them there is an imagination that when these things arecome, all that is good will come with them; then, when they arecome, the feverish feeling is the same, the tossing to and fro isthe same, the satiety, the desire of things which are not present; forfreedom is acquired not by the full possession of the things which aredesired, but by removing the desire. And that you may know that thisis true, as you have laboured for those things, so transfer yourlabour to these; be vigilant for the purpose of acquiring an opinionwhich will make you free; pay court to a philosopher instead of to arich old man: be seen about a philosopher's doors: you will notdisgrace yourself by being seen; you will not go away empty norwithout profit, if you go to the philosopher as you ought, and if not,try at least: the trial is not disgraceful.  CHAPTER 2  On familiar intimacy  To This matter before all you must attend: that you be never soclosely connected with any of your former intimates or friends as tocome down to the same acts as he does. If you do not observe thisrule, you will ruin yourself. But if the thought arises in yourmind. "I shall seem disobliging to him, and he will not have thesame feeling toward me," remember that nothing is done without cost,nor is it possible for a man if he does not do the same to be the sameman that he was. Choose, then, which of the two you will have, to beequally loved by those by whom you were formerly loved, being the samewith your former self; or, being superior, not to obtain from yourfriends the same that you did before. For if this is better, turn awayto it, and let not other considerations draw you in a differentdirection. For no man is able to make progress, when he is waveringbetween opposite things, but if you have preferred this to all things,if you choose to attend to this only, to work out this only, give upeverything else. But if you will not do this, your wavering willproduce both these results: you will neither improve as you ought, norwill you obtain what you formerly obtained. For before, by plainlydesiring the things which were worth nothing, you pleased yourassociates. But you cannot excel in both kinds, and it is necessarythat so far as you share in the one, you must fall short in the other.You cannot, when you do not drink with those with whom you used todrink, he agreeable to them as you were before. Choose, then,whether you will be a hard drinker and pleasant to your formerassociates or a sober man and disagreeable to them. You cannot, whenyou do not sing with those with whom you used to sing, be equallyloved by them. Choose, then, in this matter also which of the twoyou will have. For if it is better to be modest and orderly than for aman to say, "He is a jolly fellow," give up the rest, renounce it,turn away from it, have nothing to do with such men. But if thisbehavior shall not please you, turn altogether to the opposite: becomea catamite, an adulterer, and act accordingly, and you will get whatyou wish. And jump up in the theatre and bawl out in praise of thedancer. But characters so different cannot be mingled: you cannotact both Thersites and Agamemnon. If you intend to be Thersites, youmust be humpbacked and bald: if Agamemnon, you must be tall andhandsome, and love those who are placed in obedience to you.  CHAPTER 3  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 anass, or an ox in place of a sheep, nor a good action in place of a bitof 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 youremember this, you will always maintain your character such as itought to be. But if you do not, consider that the times of opportunityare perishing, and that whatever pains you take about yourself, youare going to waste them all and overturn them. And it needs only a fewthings for the loss and overturning of all, namely a small deviationfrom reason. For the steerer of a ship to upset it, he has no needof the same means as he has need of for saving it: but if he turnsit a little to the wind, it is lost; and if he does not do thispurposely, but has been neglecting his duty a little, the ship islost. Something of the kind happens in this case also: if you onlyfall to nodding a little, all that you have up to this timecollected is gone. Attend therefore to the appearances of things,and watch over them; for that which you have to preserve is no smallmatter, but it is modesty and fidelity and constancy, freedom from theaffects, a state of mind undisturbed, freedom from fear, tranquillity,in a word, "liberty." For what will you sell these things? See what isthe 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 doin return get that, see what you receive in place of it. "I possessdecency, he possesses a tribuneship: be possesses a praetorship, Ipossess modesty. But I do not make acclamations where it is notbecoming: I will not stand up where I ought not; for I am free, anda friend of God, and so I obey Him willingly. But I must not claimanything else, neither body nor possession, nor magistracy, nor goodreport, nor in fact anything. For He does not allow me to claimthem: for if He had chosen, He would have made them good for me; butHe has not done so, and for this reason I cannot transgress hiscommands." Preserve that which is your own good in everything; andas to every other thing, as it is permitted, and so far as to behaveconsistently with reason in respect to them, content with this only.If you do not, you will be unfortunate, you will fall in all things,you will be hindered, you will be impeded. These are the laws whichhave been sent from thence; these are the orders. Of these laws aman ought to be an expositor, to these he ought to submit, not tothose of Masurius and Cassius.  CHAPTER 4  To those who are desirous of passing life in tranquility  Remember that not only the desire of power and of riches makes usmean and subject to others, but even the desire of tranquillity, andof leisure. and of traveling abroad, and of learning. For, to speakplainly, whatever the external thing may be, the value which we setupon it places us in subjection to others. What, then, is thedifference between desiring, to be a senator or not desiring to beone; what is the difference between desiring power or being contentwith a private station; what is the difference between saying, "I amunhappy, I have nothing, to do, but I am bound to my books as acorpse"; or saying, "I am unhappy, I have no leisure for reading"? Foras salutations and power are things external and independent of thewill, 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 learningsomething, you are a silly fellow and incapable of enduring labour.But if you refer reading to the proper end, what else is this than atranquil and happy life? But if reading does not secure for you ahappy and tranquil life, what is the use of it? But it does securethis," the man replies, "and for this reason I am vexed that I amdeprived of it." And what is this tranquil and happy life, which anyman can impede; I do not say Caesar or Caesar's friend, but a crow,a piper, a fever, and thirty thousand other things? But a tranquil andhappy life contains nothing so sure is continuity and freedom fromobstacle. Now I am called to do something: I will go, then, with thepurpose of observing the measures which I must keep, of acting withmodesty, steadiness, without desire and aversion to things external;and then that I may attend to men, what they say, how they aremoved; and this not with any bad disposition, or that I may havesomething to blame or to ridicule; but I turn to myself, and ask ifI also commit the same faults. "How then shall I cease to committhem?" Formerly I also acted wrong, but now I do not: thanks to God.  Come, when you have done these things and have attended to them,have you done a worse act than when you have read a thousand verses orwritten as many? For when you eat, are you grieved because you are notreading? are you not satisfied with eating according to what youhave learned by reading, and so with bathing and with exercise? Why,then, do you not act consistently in all things, both when youapproach Caesar and when you approach any person? If you maintainyourself free from perturbation, free from alarm, and steady; if youlook rather at the things which are done and happen than are looked atyourself; if you do not envy those who are preferred before you; ifsurrounding circumstances do not strike you with fear or admiration,what do you want? Books? How or for what purpose? for is not this apreparation for life? and is not life itself made up of certainother things than this? This is just as if an athlete should weep whenhe enters the stadium, because he is not being exercised outside ofit. It was for this purpose that you used to practice exercise; forthis purpose were used the halteres, the dust, the young men asantagonists; and do you seek for those things now when it is thetime of action? This is just as if in the topic of assent whenappearances present themselves, some of which can he comprehended, andsome cannot be comprehended, we should not choose to distinguishthem but should choose to read what has been written aboutcomprehension.  What then is the reason of this? The reason is that we have neverread for this purpose, we have never written for this purpose, so thatwe may in our actions use in a way conformable to nature theappearances presented to us; but we terminate in this, in learningwhat is said, and in being able to expound it to another, in resolvinga syllogism, and in handling the hypothetical syllogism. For thisreason where our study is, there alone is the impediment. Would youhave by all means the things which are not in your power? Be preventedthen, be hindered, fail in your purpose. But if we read what iswritten about action, not that we may see what is said about action,but that we may act well: if we read what is said about desire andaversion, in order that we may neither fall in our desires, nor fallinto that which we try to avoid: if we read what is said about duty,in order that, remembering the relations, we may do nothingirrationally nor contrary to these relations; we should not be vexedin being hindered as to our readings, but we should be satisfiedwith doing, the acts which are conformable, and we should be reckoningnot what so far we have been accustomed to reckon; "To-day I have readso many verses, I have written so many"; but, "To-day I haveemployed my action as it is taught by the philosophers; I have notemployed any desire; I have used avoidance only with respect to thingswhich are within the power of my will; I have not been afraid ofsuch a person, I have not been prevailed upon by the entreaties ofanother; I have exercised my patience, my abstinence my co-operationwith others"; and so we should thank God for what we ought to thankHim.  But now we do not know that we also in another way are like themany. Another man is afraid that he shall not have power: you areafraid that you will. Do not do so, my man; but as you ridicule himwho is afraid that he, shall not have power, so ridicule yourselfalso. For it makes no difference whether you are thirsty like a manwho has a fever, or have a dread of water like a man who is mad. Orhow will you still be able to say as Socrates did, "If so it pleasesGod, so let it be"? Do you think that Socrates, if he had been eagerto pass his leisure in the Lyceum or in the Academy and to discoursedally with the young men, would have readily served in militaryexpeditions so often as he did; and would he not have lamented andgroaned, "Wretch that I am; I must now be miserable here, when I mightbe sunning myself in the Lyceum"? Why, was this your business, tosun yourself? And is it not your business to be happy, to be free fromhindrance, free from impediment? And could he still have beenSocrates, if he had lamented in this way: how would he still have beenable to write Paeans in his prison?  In short, remember this, that what you shall prize which is beyondyour will, so far you have destroyed your will. But these things areout of the power of the will, not only power, but also a privatecondition: not only occupation, but also leisure. "Now, then, must Ilive in this tumult?" Why do you say "tumult"? "I mean among manymen." Well what is the hardship? Suppose that you are at Olympia:imagine it to be a panegyris, where one is calling out one thing,another is doing another thing, and a third is pushing another person:in the baths there is a crowd: and who of us is not pleased withthis assembly and leaves it unwillingly, Be not difficult to pleasenor fastidious about what happens. "Vinegar is disagreeable, for it issharp; honey is disagreeable, for it disturbs my habit of body. I donot like vegetables." So also, "I do not like leisure; it is a desert:I do not like a crowd; it is confusion." But if circumstances makeit necessary for you to live alone or with a few, call it quiet anduse the thing as you ought: talk with yourself, exercise theappearances, work up your preconceptions. If you fall into a crowd,call it a celebration of games, a panegyris, a festival: try toenjoy the festival with other men. For what is a more pleasant sightto him who loves mankind than a number of men? We see with pleasureherds of horses or oxen: we are delighted when we see many ships:who is pained when he sees many men? "But they deafen me with theircries." Then your hearing is impeded. What, then, is this to you?Is, then, the power of making use of appearances hindered? And whoprevents you from using, according to nature, inclination to a thingand aversion from it; and movement toward a thing and movement fromit? What tumult is able to do this?  Do you only bear in mind the general rules: "What is mine, what isnot mine; what is given to me; what does God will that I should donow? what does He not will?" A little before he willed you to be atleisure, to talk with yourself, to write about these things, toread, to hear, to prepare yourself. You had sufficient time forthis. Now He says to you: "Come now to the contest; show us what youhave learned, how you have practiced the athletic art. How long willyou be exercised alone? Now is the opportunity for you to learnwhether you are an athlete worthy of victory, or one of those who goabout the world and are defeated." Why, then, are; you vexed? Nocontest is without confusion. There be many who exercise themselvesfor the contests, many who call out to those who exercisethemselves, many masters, many spectators. "But my wish is to livequietly." Lament, then, and groan as you deserve to do. For what otheris a greater punishment than this to the untaught man and to him whodisobeys the divine commands: to be grieved, to lament, to envy, ina word, to be disappointed and to he unhappy? Would you not releaseyourself from these things? "And how shall I release myself?" Have younot often heard that you ought to remove entirely desire, applyaversion to those things only which are within your power, that youought to give up everything, body, property, fame, books, tumult,power, private station? for whatever way you turn, you are a slave,you are subjected, you are hindered, you are compelled, you areentirely in the power of others. But keep the words of Cleanthes inreadiness,     Lead me, O Zeus, and thou necessity.  Is it your will that I should go to Rome? I will go to Rome. ToGyara? I will go to Gyara. I will go to Athens? I will go to Athens.To prison? I will go to prison. If you should once say, "When shalla man go to Athens?" you are undone. It is a necessary consequencethat this desire, if it is not accomplished, must make you unhappy;and if it is accomplished, it must make you vain, since you are elatedat things at which you ought not to be elated; and on the otherhand, if you are impeded, it must make you wretched because you fallinto that which you would not fall into. Give up then all thesethings. "Athens is a good place." But happiness is much better; and tobe free from passions, free from disturbance, for your affairs notto depend on any man. "There is tumult at Rome and visits ofsalutation." But happiness is an equivalent for all troublesomethings. If, then, the time comes for these things, why do you not takeaway the wish to avoid them? what necessity is there to carry to avoida burden like an ass, and to be beaten with a stick? But if you do notso, consider that you must always be a slave to him who has it inhis power to effect your release, and also to impede you, and you mustserve him as an evil genius.  There is only one way to happiness, and let this rule be readyboth in the morning and during the day and by night; the rule is notto look toward things which are out of the power of our will, to thinkthat nothing is our own, to give up all things to the Divinity, toFortune; to make them the superintendents of these things, whom Zeusalso 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 ourreading to this only, and our writing and our listening. For thisreason, I cannot call the man industrious, if I hear this only, thathe reads and writes; and even if a man adds that he reads all night, Icannot 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 fora girl; nor do I. But if he does it for reputation, I say that he is alover of reputation. And if he does it for money, I say that he is alover of money, not a lover of labour; and if he does it throughlove of learning, I say that he is a lover of learning. But if herefers his labour to his own ruling power, that he may keep it in astate conformable to nature and pass his life in that state, then onlydo I say that he is industrious. For never commend a man on account ofthese things which are common to all, but on account of hisopinions; for these are the things which belong to each man, whichmake his actions bad or good. Remembering these rules, rejoice in thatwhich is present, and be content with the things which come in season.If you see anything which you have learned and inquired aboutoccurring, to you in your course of life, be delighted at it. If youhave laid aside or have lessened bad disposition and a habit ofreviling; if you have done so with rash temper, obscene words,hastiness, sluggishness; if you are not moved by what you formerlywere, and not in the same way as you once were, you can celebrate afestival daily, to-day because you have behaved well in one act, andto-morrow because you have behaved well in another. How much greateris this a reason for making sacrifices than a consulship or thegovernment of a province? These things come to you from yourself andfrom the gods. Remember this, Who gives these things and to whom,and for what purpose. If you cherish yourself in these thoughts, doyou still think that it makes any difference where yon shall be happy,where you shall please God? Are not the gods equally distant fromall places? Do they not see from all places alike that which isgoing on?  CHAPTER 5  Against the quarrelsome and ferocious  The wise and good man neither himself fights with any person, nordoes he allow another, so far as he can prevent it. And an exampleof this as well as of all other things is proposed to us in the lifeof Socrates, who not only himself on all occasions avoided fights, butwould not allow even others to quarrel. See in Xenophon's Symposiumhow many quarrels he settled; how further he endured Thrasymachusand Polus and Callicles; how he tolerated his wife, and how hetolerated his son who attempted to confute him aid to cavil withhim. For he remembered well that no man has in his power another man'sruling principle. He wished, therefore nothing else than that whichwas his own. And what is this? Not that this or that man may actaccording to nature; for that is a thing which belongs to another; butthat while others are doing their own acts, as they choose, he maynever the less 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 astate conformable to nature. For this is the object always setbefore him by the wise and good man. Is it to be commander of an army?No: but if it is permitted him, his object is in this matter tomaintain his own ruling principle. Is it to marry? No; but if marriageis allowed to him, in this matter his object is to maintain himself ina condition conformable to nature. But if he would have his son not todo wrong, or his wife, he would have what belongs to another not tobelong to another; and to he instructed is this: to learn whatthings are a man's own and what belongs to another.  How, then, is there left any place for fighting, to a man who hasthis opinion? Is he surprised at anything which happens, and does itappear new to him? Does he not expect that which comes from the bad tobe worse and more grievous than what actually befalls him? And does henot reckon as pure gain whatever they may do which falls short ofextreme wickedness? "Such a person has reviled you." Great thanks tohim for not having, struck you. "But he has struck me also." Greatthanks that he did not wound you "But he wounded me also." Greatthanks that he did not kill you. For when did he learn or in whatschool that man is a tame animal, that men love one another, that anact of injustice is a great harm to him who does it. Since then he hasnot to him who does it. Since then he has not learned this and isnot convinced of it, why shall he not follow that which seems to befor his own "Your neighbour has thrown stones." Have you then doneanything wrong? "But the things in the house have been broken." Areyou then a utensil? No; but a free power of will. What, then, is givento you in answer to this? If you are like a wolf, you must bite inreturn, and throw more stones. But if you consider what is properfor a man, examine your store-house, see with at faculties you cameinto the world. Have you the disposition of a wild beast, Have you thedisposition of revenge for an injury? When is a horse wretched? Whenhe is deprived of his natural faculties; not when he cannot crowlike a cock, but when he cannot run. When is a dog wretched? Notwhen he cannot fly, but when he cannot track his game. Is, then, a manalso unhappy in this way, not because he cannot strangle lions orembrace statues, for he did not come into the world in thepossession of certain powers from nature for this purpose, but becausehe has lost his probity and his fidelity? People ought to meet andlament such a man for the misfortunes into which he has fallen; notindeed to lament because a man his been born or has died, butbecause it has happened to him in his lifetime to have lost the thingswhich are his own, not that which he received from his father, not hisland and house, and his inn, and his slaves; for not one of thesethings is a man's own, but all belong to others, are servile andsubject to account, at different times given to different persons bythose who have them in their power: but I mean the things which belongto him as a man, the marks in his mind with which he came into theworld, such as we seek also on coins, and if we find them, weapprove 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." Presentit. "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 hisopinions? "It is gentleness, a sociable disposition, a toleranttemper, a disposition to mutual affection." Produce these qualities. Iaccept them: I consider this man a citizen, I accept him as aneighbour, a companion in my voyages. Only see that he has notNero's stamp. Is he passionate, is he full of resentment, is hefaultfinding? If the whim seizes him, does he break the heads of thosewho come in his way? Why, then did you say that he is a man? Iseverything judged by the bare form? If that is so, say that the formin wax is all apple and has the smell and the taste of an apple. Butthe external figure is not enough: neither then is the nose enough andthe eyes to make the man, but he must have the opinions of a man. Hereis a man who does not listen to reason, who does not know when he isrefuted: he is an ass: in another man the sense of shame is becomedead: he is good for nothing, he is anything rather than a man. Thisman seeks whom he may meet and kick or bite, so that he is not evena sheep or an ass, but a kind of wild beast.  "What then would you have me to be despised?" By whom? by thosewho know you? and how and how shall those who know you despise a manwho is gentle and modest? Perhaps you mean by those who do not knowyou? What is that to you? For no other artisan cares for the opinionof those who know not his art. "But they will be more hostile to mefor 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 arepresented to you, "In no way can he." Why, then, are still disturbedand why do you choose to show yourself afraid? And why do you not comeforth and proclaim that you are at peace with all men whatever theymay 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 wherelies my good or my evil, because they have no access to the thingswhich are mine."  In this way, also, those who occupy a strong city mock thebesiegers; "What trouble these men are now taking for nothing: ourwall is secure, we have food for a very long time, and all otherresources." These are the things which make a city strong andimpregnable: but nothing else than his opinions makes a man's soulimpregnable. For what wall is so strong, or what body is so hard, orwhat possession is so safe, or what honour so free from assault? Allthings everywhere are perishable, easily taken by assault, and, if anyman in any way is attached to them, he must be disturbed, expectwhat is bad, he must fear, lament, find his desires disappointed,and fall into things which he would avoid. Then do we not choose tomake secure the only means of safety which are offered to us, and dowe not choose to withdraw ourselves from that which is perishableand servile and to labour at the things, which are imperishable and bynature free; and do we not remember that no man either hurts anotheror does good to another, but that a man's opinion about each thingis that which hurts him, is that which overturns him; this isfighting, this is civil discord, this is war? That which made Eteoclesand Polynices enemies was nothing else than this opinion which theyhad about royal power, their opinion about exile, that the one isthe extreme of evils, the other the greatest good. Now this is thenature of every man to seek the good, to avoid the bad; to considerhim who deprives us of the one and involves us in the other an enemyand treacherous, even if he be a brother, or a son or a father. Fornothing is more akin to us than the good: therefore if these thingsare good and evil, neither is a father a friend to sons, nor a brotherto a brother, but all the world is everywhere full of enemies,treacherous men, and sycophants. But if the will, being what itought to be, is the only good; and if the will, being such as it oughtnot to be, is the only evil, where is there any strife, where is therereviling? about what? about the things which do not concern us? andstrife with whom? with the ignorant, the unhappy, with those who aredeceived about the chief things?  Remembering this Socrates managed his own house and endured a veryill-tempered wife and a foolish son. For in what did she show herbad temper? In pouring water on his head as much as she liked, andin trampling on the cake. And what is this to me, if I think thatthese things are nothing to me? But this is my business; and neithertyrant shall check my will nor a master; nor shall the many check mewho am only one, nor shall the stronger check me who am the weaker;for this power of being free from check is given by God to everyman. For these opinions make love in a house, concord in a state,among nations peace, and gratitude to God; they make a man in allthings cheerful in externals as about things which belong to others,as about things which are of no value. We indeed are able to write andto read these things, and to praise them when they are read, but we donot even come near to being convinced of them. Therefore what issaid of the Lacedaemonians, "Lions at home, but in Ephesus foxes,"will fit in our case also, "Lions in the school, but out of it foxes."  CHAPTER 6  Against those who lament over being pitied  "I am grieved," a man says, "at being pitied." Whether, then, is thefact of your being pitied a thing which concerns you or those who pityyou? Well, is it in your power to stop this pity? "It is in mypower, if I show them that I do not require pity." And whether,then, are you in the condition of not deserving pity, or are you notin that condition? "I think I am not: but these persons do not pity mefor the things for which, if they ought to pity me, it would beproper, I mean, for my faults; but they pity me for my poverty, fornot possessing honourable offices, for diseases and deaths and othersuch things." Whether, then, are you prepared to convince the manythat not one of these things is an evil, but that it is possible for aman who is poor and has no office and enjoys no honour to be happy; orto show yourself to them as rich and in power? For the second of thesethings belong, to a man who is boastful, silly and good for nothing.And consider by what means the pretense must be supported. It willbe necessary for you to hire slaves and to possess a few silvervessels, and to exhibit them in public, if it is possible, though theyare often the same, and to attempt to conceal the fact that they arethe same, and to have splendid garments, and all other things fordisplay, and to show that you are a man honoured by the great, andto try to sup at their houses, or to be supposed to sup there, andas to your person to employ some mean arts, that you may appear tobe more handsome and nobler than you are. These things you mustcontrive, if you choose to go by the second path in order not to bepitied. But the first way is both impracticable and long, to attemptthe very thing which Zeus has not been able to do, to convince all menwhat things are good and bad. Is this power given to you? This only isgiven to you, to convince yourself; and you have not convincedyourself. Then I ask you, do you attempt to persuade other men? andwho has lived so long with you as you with yourself? and who has somuch power of convincing you as you have of convincing yourself; andwho is better disposed and nearer to you than you are to yourself?How, then, have you not convinced yourself in order to learn? Atpresent are not things upside down? Is this what you have been earnestabout doing, to learn to be free from grief and free from disturbance,and not to be humbled, and to be free? Have you not heard, then,that there is only one way which leads to this end, to give up thethings which do not depend on the will, to withdraw from them, andto admit that they belong to others? For another man, then, to have anopinion about you, of what kind is it? "It is a thing independent ofthe will." Then is it nothing to you? "It is nothing." When, then, youare still vexed at this and disturbed, do you think that you areconvinced about good and evil?  Will you not, then, letting others alone, be to yourself bothscholar and teacher? "The rest of mankind will look after this,whether it is to their interest to be and to pass their lives in astate contrary to nature: but to me no man is nearer than myself.What, then, is the meaning of this, that I have listened to thewords of the philosophers and I assent to them, but in fact I am noway made easier? Am I so stupid? And yet, in all other things suchas I have chosen, I have not been found very stupid; but I learnedletters quickly, and to wrestle, and geometry, and to resolvesyllogisms. Has not, then, reason convinced me? and indeed no otherthings have I from the beginning so approved and chosen: and now Iread about these things, hear about them, write about them; I haveso far discovered no reason stronger than this. In what, then, am Ideficient? Have the contrary opinions not been eradicated from me?Have the notions themselves not been exercised nor used to beapplied to action, but as armour are laid aside and rusted andcannot fit me? And yet neither in the exercises of the palaestra,nor in writing or reading am I satisfied with learning, but I turnup and down the syllogisms which are proposed, and I make others,and sophistical syllogisms also. But the necessary theorems, byproceeding from which a man can become free from grief, fear,passions, hindrance, and a free man, these I do not exercise myself innor do I practice in these the proper practice. Then I care about whatothers will say of me, whether I shall appear to them worth notice,whether I shall appear happy."  Wretched man, will you not see what you. are saying aboutyourself? What do you appear to yourself to be? in your opinions, inyour desires, in your aversions from things, in your movements, inyour preparation, in your designs, and in other acts suitable to aman? But do you trouble yourself about this, whether others pityyou? "Yes, but I am pitied not as I ought to be." Are you thenpained at this? and is he who is pained, an object of pity? "Yes."How, then, are you pitied not as you ought to be? For by the veryact that you feel about being pitied, you make yourself deserving ofpity. What then says Antisthenes? Have you not heard? "It is a royalthing, O Cyrus, to do right and to be ill-spoken of." My head issound, and all think that I have the headache. What do I care forthat? I am free from fever, and people sympathize with me as if Ihad a fever: "Poor man, for so long a time you have not ceased to havefever." I also say with a sorrowful countenance: "In truth it is now along time that I have been ill." "What will happen then?" "As Godmay please": and at the same time I secretly laugh at those who arepitying me. What, then, hinders the same being done in this case also?I am poor, but I have a right opinion about poverty. Why, then, do Icare if they pity me for my poverty? I am not in power; but othersare: and I have the opinion which I ought to have about having and nothaving power. Let them look to it who pity me; but I am neither hungrynor thirsty nor do I suffer cold; but because they are hungry orthirsty they think that I too am. What, then, shall I do for them?Shall I go about and proclaim and say: "Be not mistaken, men, I amvery well, I do not trouble myself about poverty, nor want of power,nor in a word about anything else than right opinions. These I havefree from restraint, I care for nothing at all." What foolish talkis this? How do I possess right opinions when I am not content withbeing what I am, but am uneasy about what I am supposed to be?  "But," you say, "others will get more and be preferred to me." What,then, is more reasonable than for those who have laboured aboutanything to have more in that thing in which they have laboured?They have laboured for power, you have laboured about opinions; andthey have laboured for wealth, you for the proper use ofappearances. See if they have more than you in this about which youhave laboured, and which they neglect; if they assent better thanyou with respect to the natural rules of things; if they are lessdisappointed than you in their desires; if they fall less intothings which they would avoid than you do; if in their intentions,if in the things which they propose to themselves, if in theirpurposes, if in their motions toward an object they take a better aim;if they better observe a proper behavior, as men, as sons, as parents,and so on as to the other names by which we express the relations oflife. But if they exercise power, and you do not, will you notchoose to tell yourself the truth, that you do nothing for the sake ofthis, and they do all? But it is most unreasonable that he who looksafter anything should obtain less than he who does not look after it.  "Not so: but since I care about right opinions, it more reasonablefor me to have power." Yes in the matter about which you do care, inopinions. But in a matter in which they have cared more than you, giveway to them. The case is just the same as if, because you have rightopinions, you thought that in using the bow you should hit the markbetter than an archer, and in working in metal you should succeedbetter than a smith. Give up, then, your earnestness about opinionsand employ yourself about the things which you wish to acquire; andthen lament, if you do not succeed; for you deserve to lament. But nowyou say that you are occupied with other things, that you arelooking after other things; but the many say this truly, that oneact has no community with another. He who has risen in the morningseeks whom he shall salute, to whom he shall say somethingagreeable, to whom he shall send a present, how he shall please thedancing man, how by bad behavior to one he may please another. When heprays, he prays about these things; when he sacrifices, hesacrifices for these things: the saying of Pythagoras     Let sleep not come upon thy languid eyeshe transfers to these things. "Where have I failed in the matterspertaining to flattery?" "What have I done?" Anything like a free man,anything like a noble-minded man? And if he finds anything of thekind, he blames and accuses himself: "Why did you say this? Was it notin your power to lie? Even the philosophers say that nothing hindersus from telling a lie." But do you, if indeed you have cared aboutnothing else except the proper use of appearances, as soon as you haverisen in the morning reflect, "What do I want in order to be free frompassion, and free from perturbation? What am I? Am I a poor body, apiece of property, a thing of which something is said? I am none ofthese. But what am I? I am a rational animal. What then is required ofme?" Reflect on your acts. "Where have I omitted the things whichconduce to happiness? What have I done which is either unfriendly orunsocial? what have I not done as to these things which I ought tohave done?"  So great, then, being, the difference in desires, actions, wishes,would you still have the same share with others in those thingsabout which you have not laboured, and they have laboured? Then areyou surprised if they pity you, and are you vexed? But they are notvexed if you pity them. Why? Because they are convinced that they havethat which is good, and you are not convinced. For this reason you arenot satisfied with your own, but you desire that which they have:but they are satisfied with their own, and do not desire what youhave: since, if you were really convinced that with respect to what isgood, it is you who are the possessor of it and that they havemissed it, you would not even have thought of what they say about you.  CHAPTER 7  On freedom from fear  What makes the tyrant formidable? "The guards," you say, "andtheir swords, and the men of the bedchamber and those who exclude themwho would enter." Why, then, if you bring a boy to the tyrant whenhe is with his guards, is he not afraid; or is it because the childdoes not understand these things? If, then, any man does understandwhat guards are and that they have swords, and comes to the tyrant forthis very purpose because he wishes to die on account of somecircumstance and seeks to die easily by the hand of another, is heafraid of the guards? "No, for he wishes for the thing which makes theguards formidable." If, then, neither any man wishing to die nor tolive by all means, but only as it may be permitted, approaches thetyrant, what hinders him from approaching the tyrant without fear?"Nothing." If, then, a man has the same opinion about his propertyas the man whom I have instanced has about his body; and also abouthis children and his wife, and in a word is so affected by somemadness or despair that he cares not whether he possesses them or not,but like children who are playing, with shells care about the play,but do not trouble themselves about the shells, so he too has set novalue on the materials, but values the pleasure that he has withthem and the occupation, what tyrant is then formidable to him or whatguards or what swords?  Then through madness is it possible for a man to be so disposedtoward these things, and the Galilaens through habit, and is itpossible that no man can learn from reason and from demonstration thatGod has made all the things in the universe and the universe itselfcompletely free from hindrance and perfect, and the parts of it forthe use of the whole? All other animals indeed are incapable ofcomprehending the administration of it; but the rational animal,man, has faculties for the consideration of all these and forunderstanding that it is a part, and what kind of a part it is, andthat it is right for the parts to be subordinate to the whole. Andbesides this being naturally noble, magnanimous and free, man seesthat of the things which surround him some are free from hindrance andin his power, and the other things are subject to hindrance and in thepower of others; that the things which are free from hindrance arein the power of the will; and those which are subject to hinderanceare the things which are not in the power of the will. And, for thisreason, if he thinks that his good and his interest be in these thingsonly which are free from hindrance and in his own power, he will befree, prosperous, happy, free from harm, magnanimous pious, thankfulto God for all things; in no matter finding fault with any of thethings which have not been put in his power, nor blaming any ofthem. But if he thinks that his good and his interest are in externalsand in things which are not in the power of his will, he must ofnecessity be hindered, be impeded, be a slave to those who have thepower over things which he admires and fears; and he must of necessitybe impious because he thinks that he is harmed by God, and he mustbe unjust because he always claims more than belongs to him; and hemust of necessity be abject and mean.  What hinders a man, who has clearly separated these things, fromliving with a light heart and bearing easily the reins, quietlyexpecting everything which can happen, and enduring that which hasalready happened? "Would you have me to bear poverty?" Come and youwill know what poverty is when it has found one who can act well thepart of a poor man. "Would you have me to possess power?" Let mehave power, and also the trouble of it. "Well, banishment?" Wherever Ishall 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, butbecause of my opinions which I shall carry off with me: for neithercan any man deprive me of them; but my opinions alone are mine andthey cannot he 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 todie." 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 to be resolvedinto the things out of which it was composed. And what is theformidable thing here? what is going to perish of the things which arein the universe? what new thing or wondrous is going to happen? Isit for this reason that a tyrant is formidable? Is it for thisreason that the guards appear to have swords which are large andsharp? Say this to others; but I have considered about all thesethins; no man has power over me. I have been made free; I know Hiscommands, no man can now lead me as a slave. I have a proper person toassert my freedom; I have proper judges. Are you not the master ofmy body? What, then, is that to me? Are you not the master of myproperty? What, then, is that to me? Are you not the master of myexile or of my chains? Well, from all these things and all the poorbody itself I depart at your bidding, when you please. Make trial ofyour power, and you will know how far it reaches.  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 toenter, let them shut me out. "Why, then, do you go to the doors?"Because I think it befits me, while the play lasts, to join in it."How, then, are you not shut out?" Because, unless some one allowsme to go in, I do not choose to ,o in, but am always content with thatI which happens; for I think that what God chooses is better than whatI choose. I will attach myself as a minister and follower to Him; Ihave the same movements as He has, I have the same desires; in a word,I have the same will. There is no shutting out for me, but for thosewho would force their in. Why, then, do not I force my way in? BecauseI know that nothing good is distributed within to those who enter. Butwhen I hear any man called fortunate because he is honoured by Caesar,I say, "What does he happen to get?" A province. Does he also obtainan opinion such as he ought? The office of a Prefect. Does he alsoobtain the power of using his office well? Why do I still strive toenter? A man scatters dried figs and nuts: the children seize them andfight with one another; men do not, for they think them to be asmall matter. But if a man should throw about shells, even thechildren do not seize them. Provinces are distributed: let childrenlook to that. Money is distributed: let children look to that.Praetorships, consulships are distributed: let children scramble forthem, let them be shut out, beaten, kiss the hands of the giver, ofthe slaves: but to me these are only dried figs and nuts. What then?If you fail to get them, while Caesar is scattering them about, do notbe 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 andturn another over, or be turned over by another, and shall flatterthose who have got into chamber, neither is a dried fig worth thetrouble, nor anything else of the things which are not good, which thephilosophers have persuaded me not to think good.  Show me the swords of the guards. "See how big they are, and howsharp." What, then, do these big and sharp swords do? "They kill." Andwhat does a fever do? "Nothing else." And what else a tile? "Nothingelse." Would you then have me to wonder at these things and worshipthem, and go about as the slave of all of them? I hope that thiswill not happen: but when I have once learned that everything whichhas come into existence must also go out of it, that the universemay not stand still nor be impeded, I no longer consider it anydifference whether a fever shall do it, or a tile, or a soldier. Butif a man must make a comparison between these things, I know thatthe soldier will do it with less trouble, and quicker. When, then, Ineither fear anything which a tyrant can do to me, nor desire anythingwhich he can give, why do I still look on with wonder? Why am Istill confounded? Why do I fear the guards? Why am I pleased if hespeaks to me in a friendly way, and receives me, and why do I tellothers how he spoke to me? Is he a Socrates, is he a Diogenes that hispraise should be a proof of what I am? Have I been eager to imitatehis morals? But I keep up the play and go to him, and serve him solong as he does not bid me to do anything foolish or unreasonable. Butif he says to me, "Go and bring Leon of Salamis," I say to him,"Seek another, for I am no longer playing." "Lead him away." I follow;that is part of the play. "But your head will be taken off." Doesthe tyrant's head always remain where it is, and the heads of youwho obey him? "But you will be cast out unburied." If the corpse is I,I shall be cast out; but if I am different from the corpse, speak moreproperly according as the fact is, and do not think of frightening me.These things are formidable to children and fools. But if any manhas once entered a philosopher's school and knows not what he is, hedeserves to be full of fear and to flatter those whom afterward heused to flatter; if he has not yet learned that he is not flesh norbones nor sinews, but he is that which makes use of these parts of thebody and governs them and follows the appearances of things.  "Yes, but this talk makes us despise the laws." And what kind oftalk makes men more obedient to the laws who employ such talk? And thethings which are in the power of a fool are not law. And yet see howthis talk makes us disposed as we ought to be even to these men; sinceit teaches us to claim in opposition to them none of the things inwhich they are able to surpass us. This talk teaches us, as to thebody, to give it up, as to property, to give that up also, as tochildren, parents, brothers, to retire from these, to give up all;It only makes an exception of the opinions, which even Zeus has willedto be the select property of every man. What transgression of the lawsis there here, what folly? Where you are superior and stronger,there I give way to you: on the other hand, where I am superior, doyou yield to me; for I have studied this, and you have not. It is yourstudy to live in houses with floors formed of various stones, how yourslaves and dependents shall serve you, how you shall wear fineclothing, have many hunting men, lute players, and tragic actors. Do Iclaim any of these? have you made any study of opinions and of yourown rational faculty? Do you know of what parts it is composed, howthey are brought together, how they are connected, what powers it has,and of what kind? Why then are you vexed, if another, who has madeit his study, has the advantage over you in these things? "But thesethings are the greatest." And who hinders you from being employedabout these things and looking after them? And who has a betterstock of books, of leisure, of persons to aid you? Only turn your mindat last to these things, attend, if it be only a short time, to yourown ruling faculty: consider what this is that you possess, and whenceit came, this which uses all others, and tries them, and selects andrejects. But so long as you employ yourself about externals you willpossess them as no man else does; but you will have this such as youchoose to have it, sordid and neglected.  CHAPTER 8  Against those who hastily rush into the use of the philosophicdress  Never praise nor blame a man because of the things which are common,and do not ascribe to him any skill or want of skill; and thus youwill be free from rashness and from malevolence. "This man bathes veryquickly." Does he then do wrong? Certainly not. But what does he do?He bathes very quickly. Are all things then done well? By no means:but the acts which proceed from right opinions are done well; andthose which proceed from bad opinions are done ill. But do you,until you know the opinion from which a man does each thing, neitherpraise nor blame the act. But the opinion is not easily discoveredfrom the external things. "This man is a carpenter." Why? "Becausehe uses an ax." What, then, is this to the matter? "This man is amusician because he sings." And what does that signify? "This man is aphilosopher. Because he wears a cloak and long hair." And what doesa juggler wear? For this reason if a man sees any philosopher actingindecently, immediately he says, "See what the philosopher isdoing"; but he ought because of the man's indecent behavior ratherto say that he is not a philosopher. For if this is the preconceivednotion of a philosopher and what he professes, to wear a cloak andlong hair, men would say well; but if what he professes is thisrather, to keep himself free from faults, why do we not rather,because he does not make good his professions, take from him thename of philosopher? For so we do in the case of all other arts.When a man sees another handling an ax badly, he does not say, "Whatis the use of the carpenter's art? See how badly carpenters do theirwork"; but he says just the contrary, "This man is not a carpenter,for he uses an ax badly." In the same way if a man hears anothersinging badly, he does not say, "See how musicians sing"; butrather, "This man is not a musician." But it is in the matter ofphilosophy only that people do this. When they see a man actingcontrary to the profession of a philosopher, they do not take away histitle, but they assume him to be a philosopher, and from his actsderiving the fact that he is behaving indecently they conclude thatthere is no use in philosophy.  What, then, is the reason of this? Because we attach value to thenotion of a carpenter, and to that of a musician, and to the notion ofother artisans in like manner, but not to that of a philosopher, andwe judge from externals only that it is a thing confused and illdefined. And what other kind of art has a name from the dress andthe hair; and has not theorems and a material and an end? What,then, is the material of the philosopher? Is it a cloak? No, butreason. What is his end? is it to wear a cloak? No, but to possess thereason in a right state. Of what kind are his theorems? Are they thoseabout the way in which the beard becomes great or the hair long? No,but rather what Zeno says, to know the elements of reason, what kindof a thing each of them is, and how they are fitted to one another,and what things are consequent upon them. Will you not, then, seefirst if he does what he professes when he acts in an unbecomingmanner, and then blame his study? But now when you yourself are actingin a sober way, you say in consequence of what he seems to you to bedoing wrong, "Look at the philosopher," as if it were proper to callby the name of philosopher one who does these things; and further,"This is the conduct of a philosopher." But you do not say, "Look atthe carpenter," when you know that a carpenter is an adulterer oryou see him to be a glutton; nor do you say, "See the musician."Thus to a certain degree even you perceive the profession of aphilosopher, but you fall away from the notion, and you are confusedthrough want of care.  But even the philosophers themselves as they are called pursue thething by beginning with things which are common to them and others: assoon as they have assumed a cloak and grown a beard, they say, "I am aphilosopher." But no man will say, "I am a musician," if he has boughta plectrum and a lute: nor will he say, "I am a smith," if he hasput on a cap and apron. But the dress is fitted to the art; and theytake their name from the art, and not from the dress. For thisreason Euphrates used to say well, "A long time I strove to be aphilosopher without people knowing it; and this," he said, "was usefulto me: for first I knew that when I did anything well, I did not do itfor the sake of the spectators, but for the sake of myself: I ate wellfor the sake of myself; I had my countenance well composed and mywalk: all for myself and for God. Then, as I struggled alone, so Ialone also was in danger: in no respect through me, if I didanything base or unbecoming, was philosophy endangered; nor did Iinjure the many by doing anything wrong as a philosopher. For thisreason those who did not know my purpose used to wonder how it wasthat, while I conversed and lived altogether with all philosophers,I was not a philosopher myself. And what was the harm for me to beknown to be a philosopher by my acts and not by outward marks?" Seehow I eat, how I drink, how I sleep, how I bear and forbear, how Ico-operate, how I employ desire, how I employ aversion, how I maintainthe relations, those which are natural or those which are acquired,how free from confusion, how free from hindrance. Judge of me fromthis, if you can. But if you are so deaf and blind that you cannotconceive even Hephaestus to be a good smith, unless you see the cap onhis head, what is the harm in not being recognized by so foolish ajudge?  So Socrates was not known to be a philosopher by most persons; andthey used to come to him and ask to be introduced to philosophers. Washe vexed then as we are, and did he say, "And do you not think thatI am a philosopher?" No, but he would take them and introduce them,being satisfied with one thing, with being a philosopher; and beingpleased also with not being thought to be a philosopher, he was notannoyed: for he thought of his own occupation. What is the work ofan honourable and good man? To have many pupils? By no means. Theywill look to this matter who are earnest about it. But was it hisbusiness to examine carefully difficult theorems? Others will lookafter these matters also. In what, then, was he, and who was he andwhom did he wish to be? He was in that wherein there was hurt andadvantage. "If any man can damage me," he says, "I am doing nothing:if I am waiting for another man to do me good, I am nothing. If Ianguish for anything, and it does not happen, I am unfortunate." Tosuch a contest he invited every man, and I do not think that hewould have declined the contest with any one. What do you suppose? wasit by proclaiming and saying, "I am such a man?" Far from it, but bybeing such a man. For further, this is the character of a fool and aboaster to say, "I am free from passions and disturbance: do not beignorant, my friends, that while you are uneasy and disturbed aboutthings of no value, I alone am free from all perturbation." So is itnot enough for you to feel no pain, unless you make this proclamation:"Come together all who are suffering gout, pains in the head, fever,ye who are lame, blind, and observe that I am sound from everyailment." This is empty and disagreeable to hear, unless likeAesculapius you are able to show immediately by what kind of treatmentthey also shall be immediately free from disease, and unless youshow your own health as an example.  For such is the Cynic who is honoured with the sceptre and thediadem of Zeus, and says, "That you may see, O men, that you seekhappiness and tranquillity not where it is, but where it is not,behold I am sent to you by God as an example. I who have neitherproperty nor house, nor wife nor children, nor even a bed, nor coatnor household utensil; and see how healthy I am: try me, and if yousee that I am free from perturbations, hear the remedies and how Ihave been cured." This is both philanthropic and noble. But seewhose work it is, the work of Zeus, or of him whom He may judge worthyof this service, that he may never exhibit anything to the many, bywhich he shall make of no effect his own testimony, whereby he givestestimony to virtue, and bears evidence against external things:     His beauteous face pales his cheeks     He wipes a tear.And not this only, but he neither desires nor seeks anything, norman nor place nor amusement, as children seek the vintage or holidays;always fortified by modesty as others are fortified by walls and doorsand doorkeepers.  But now, being only moved to philosophy, as those who have a badstomach are moved to some kinds of food which they soon loathe,straightway toward the sceptre and to the royal power. They let thehair grow, they assume the cloak, they show the shoulder bare, theyquarrel with those whom they meet; and if they see a man in a thickwinter coat, they quarrel with him. Man, first exercise yourself inwinter weather: see your movements that they are not those of a manwith a bad stomach or those of a longing woman. First strive that itbe not known what you are: be a philosopher to yourself a shorttime. Fruit grows thus: the seed must be buried for some time, hid,grow slowly in order that it may come to perfection. But if itproduces the ear before the jointed stem, it is imperfect, a produceof the garden of Adonis. Such a poor plant are you also: you haveblossomed too soon; the cold weather will scorch you up. See whatthe husbandmen say about seeds when there is warm weather too early.They are afraid lest the seeds should be too luxuriant, and then asingle frost should lay hold of them and show that they are tooforward. Do you also consider, my man: you have shot out too soon, youhave hurried toward a little fame before the proper season: youthink that you are something, a fool among fools: you will be caughtby the frost, and rather you have been frost-bitten in the root below,but your upper parts still blossom a little, and for this reason youthink that you are still alive and flourishing. Allow us to ripen inthe natural way: why do you bare us? why do you force us? we are notyet able to bear the air. Let the root grow, then acquire the firstjoint, then the second, and then the third: in this way, then, thefruit will naturally force itself out, even if I do not choose. Forwho that is pregnant and I filled with such great principles doesnot also perceive his own powers and move toward the correspondingacts? A bull is not ignorant of his own nature and his powers, whena wild beast shows itself, nor does he wait for one to urge him on;nor a dog when he sees a wild animal. But if I have the powers of agood man, shall I wait for you to prepare me for my own acts? Atpresent I have them not, believe me. Why then do you wish me to bewithered up before the time, as you have been withered up?  CHAPTER 9  To a person who had been changed to a character of shamelessness  When you see another man in the possession of power, set againstthis the fact that you have not the want of power; when you seeanother rich, see what you possess in place of riches: for if youpossess nothing in place of them, you are miserable; but if you havenot the want of riches, know that you possess more than this manpossesses and what is worth much more. Another man possesses ahandsome woman: you have the satisfaction of not desiring a handsomewife. Do these things appear to you to he small? And how much wouldthese persons give, these very men who are rich and in possession ofpower, and live with handsome women, to be able to despise richesand power and these very women whom they love and enjoy? Do you notknow, then, what is the thirst of a man who has a fever? Hepossesses that which is in no degree like the thirst of a man who isin health: for the man who is in health ceases to be thirsty afterhe has drunk; but the sick man, being pleased for a short time, hasa nausea; he converts the drink into bile, vomits, is griped, and morethirsty. It is such a thing to have desire of riches and to possessriches, desire of power and to possess power, desire of a beautifulwoman and to sleep with her: to this is added jealousy, fear ofbeing deprived of the thing which you love, indecent words, indecentthoughts, unseemly acts.  "And what do I lose?" you will say. My man, you were modest, and youare so no longer. Have you lost nothing? In place of Chrysippus andZeno you read Aristides and Evenus; have you lost nothing? In place ofSocrates and Diogenes, you admire him who is able to corrupt andseduce most women. You wish to appear handsome and try to makeyourself so, though you are not. You like to display splendidclothes that you may attract women; and if you find any fine oil,yon imagine that you are happy. But formerly you did not think ofany such thing, but only where there should be decent talk, a worthyman, and a generous conception. Therefore you slept like a man, walkedforth like a man, wore a manly dress, and used to talk in a waybecoming a good man; then do you say to me, "I have lost nothing?"So do men lose nothing more than coin? Is not modesty lost? Is notdecent behavior lost? is it that he who has lost these things hassustained no loss? Perhaps you think that not one of these things is aloss. But there was a time when you reckoned this the only loss anddamage, and you were anxious that no man should disturb you from thesewords and actions.  Observe, you are disturbed from these good words and actions bynobody but by yourself. Fight with yourself, restore yourself todecency, to modesty, to liberty. If any man ever told you this aboutme, that a person forces me to be an adulterer, to wear such a dressas yours, to perfume myself with oils, would you not have gone andwith your own hand have killed the man who thus calumniated me? Nowwill you not help yourself? and how much easier is this help? There isno need to kill any man, nor to put him in chains, nor to treat himwith contumely, nor to enter the Forum, but it is only necessary foryou to speak to yourself who will be the most easily persuaded, withwhom no man has more power of persuasion than yourself. First ofall, condemn what you are doing, and then, when you have condemned it,do not despair of yourself, and be not in the condition of those menof mean spirit, who, when they have once given in, surrenderthemselves completely and are carried away as if by a torrent. But seewhat the trainers of boys do. Has the boy fallen? "Rise," they say,"wrestle again till you are made strong." Do you also do somethingof the same kind: for be well assured that nothing is more tractablethan the human soul. You must exercise the will, and the thing isdone, it is set right: as on the other hand, only fall a-nodding,and the thing is lost: for from within comes ruin and from withincomes help. "Then what good do I gain?" And what greater good do youseek than this? From a shameless man you will become a modest man,from a disorderly you will become an orderly man, from a faithless youwill become a faithful man, from a man of unbridled habits a soberman. If you seek anything more than this, go on doing what you aredoing: not even a God can now help you.  CHAPTER 10  What things we ought to despise, and what things we ought to value  The difficulties of all men are about external things, theirhelplessness is about externals. "What shall I do, how will it be, howwill it turn out, will this happen, will that?" All these are thewords of those who are turning themselves to things which are notwithin the power of the will. For who says, "How shall I not assent tothat which is false? how shall I not turn away from the truth?" If aman 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 inyour own power: be assured: do not be precipitate in assentingbefore you apply the natural rule." On the other side, if a man isanxious about desire, lest it fail in its purpose and miss its end,and with respect to the avoidance of things, lest he should fallinto that which he would avoid, I will first kiss him, because hethrows away the things about which others are in a flutter, andtheir fears, and employs his thoughts about his own affairs and hisown condition. Then I shall say to him: "If you do not choose todesire that which you will fall to obtain nor to attempt to avoid thatinto which you will fall, desire nothing which belongs to others,nor try to avoid any of the things which are not in your power. If youdo not observe this rule, you must of necessity fall in your desiresand 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 willit turn out?' and, 'Will this happen or that?'  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 whichare within the power of the will? "Yes." Is it in your power, then, totreat according to nature everything which happens? Can any personhinder 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 resultto you will be a fortunate one. What would Hercules have been if hehad 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 relieve theearth of the bad. "Suppose, then, that I may lose my life in thisway." You will die a good man, doing a noble act. For since we mustcertainly die, of necessity a man must be found doing something,either following the employment of a husbandman, or digging, ortrading, or serving in a consulship or suffering from indigestion orfrom diarrhea. What then do you wish to be doing, when you are foundby death? I for my part would wish to be found doing something whichbelongs to a man, beneficent, suitable to the general interest, noble.But if I cannot be found doing things so great, I would be found doingat least that which I cannot be hindered from doing, that which ispermitted me to do, correcting, myself, cultivating the facultywhich makes use of appearances, labouring at freedom from the affects,rendering to the relations of life their due; if I succeed so far,also touching on the third topic, safety in the forming judgementsabout 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 Thyadministration and following it, I have not neglected: I have notdishonoured Thee by my acts: see how I have used my perceptions, seehow I have used my preconceptions: have I ever blamed Thee? have Ibeen discontented with anything that happens, or wished it to beotherwise? have I wished to transgress the relations? That Thou hastgiven me life, I thank Thee for what Thou has given me: so long as Ihave used the things which are Thine, I am content; take them back andplace them wherever Thou mayest choose; for Thine were all things,Thou gavest them to me." Is it not enough to depart in this state ofmind, and what life is better and more becoming than that of a man whois in this state of mind? and what end is more happy?  But that this may be done, a man must receive no small things, norare the things small which he must lose. You cannot both wish to bea consul and to have these things, and to be eager to have lands andthese things also; and to be solicitous about slaves and aboutyourself. But if you wish for anything which belongs to another,that which is your own is lost. This is the nature of the thing:nothing is given or had for nothing. And where is the wonder? If youwish to be a consul, you must keep awake, run about, kiss hands, wasteyourself with exhaustion at other men's doors, say and do manythings unworthy of a free man, send gifts to many, daily presents tosome. And what is the thing that is got? Twelve bundles of rods, tosit three or four times on the tribunal, to exhibit the games in theCircus and to give suppers in small baskets. Or, if you do not agreeabout this, let some one show me what there is besides these things.In order, then, to secure freedom from passions, tranquillity, tosleep well when you do sleep, to be really awake when you are awake,to fear nothing, to be anxious about nothing, will you spend nothingand give no labour? But if anything belonging to you be lost while youare thus busied, or be wasted badly, or another obtains what you oughtto have obtained, will you immediately be vexed at what hashappened? Will you not take into the account on the other side whatyou receive and for what, how much for how much? Do you expect to havefor nothing things so great? And how can you? One work has nocommunity with another. You cannot have both external things afterbestowing care on them and your own ruling faculty: but if you wouldhave those, give up this. If you do not, you will have neither thisnor that, while you are drawn in different ways to both. The oilwill be spilled, the household vessels will perish: but I shall befree from passions. There will be a fire when I am not present, andthe books will be destroyed: but I shall treat appearances accordingto nature. "Well; but I shall have nothing to eat." If I am sounlucky, death is a harbour; and death is the harbour for all; this isthe place of refuge; and for this reason not one of the things in lifeis difficult: as soon as you choose, you are out of the house, and aresmoked no more. Why, then, are you anxious, why do you lose your sleep,why do you not straightway, after considering wherein your good is andyour evil, say, "Both of them are in my power? Neither can any mandeprive me of the good, nor involve me in the bad against my will. Whydo I not throw myself down and snore? for all that I have is safe. Asto the things which belong to others, he will look to them who getsthem, as they may be given by Him who has the power. Who am I who wishto have them in this way or in that? is a power ofselecting them givento me? has any person made me the dispenser of them? Those things areenough for me over which I have power: I ought to manage them as wellas I can: and all the rest, as the Master of them may choose."  When a man has these things before his eyes, does he keep awakeand turn hither and thither? What would he have, or what does heregret, Patroclus or Antilochus or Menelaus? For when did he supposethat any of his friends was immortal, and when had he not before hiseyes that on the morrow or the day after he or his friend must die?"Yes," he says, "but I thought that he would survive me and bring upmy son." You were a fool for that reason, and you were thinking ofwhat was uncertain. Why, then, do you not blame yourself, and sitcrying like girls? "But he used to set my food before me." Becausehe was alive, you fool, but now he cannot: but Automedon will set itbefore you, and if Automedon also dies, you will find another. Butif the pot, in which your meat was cooked, should be broken, mustyou die of hunger, because you have not the pot which you areaccustomed to? Do you not send and buy a new pot? He says:     "No greater ill could fall on me."Why is this your ill? Do you, then, instead of removing it, blame yourmother for not foretelling it to you that you might continuegrieving from that time? What do you think? do you not suppose thatHomer wrote this that we may learn that those of noblest birth, thestrongest and the richest, the most handsome, when they have not theopinions which they ought to have, are not prevented from being mostwretched and unfortunate?  CHAPTER 11  About Purity  Some persons raise a question whether the social feeling iscontained in the nature of man; and yet I think that these samepersons would have no doubt that love of purity is certainly containedin it, and that, if man is distinguished from other animals byanything, he is distinguished by this. When, then, we see any otheranimal cleaning itself, we are accustomed to speak of the act withsurprise, and to add that the animal is acting like a man: and, on theother hand, if a man blames an animal for being dirty, straightwayas if we were making an excuse for it, we say that of course theanimal is not a human creature. So we suppose that there issomething superior in man, and that we first receive it from the Gods.For since the Gods by their nature are pure and free fromcorruption, so far as men approach them by reason, so far do theycling to purity and to a love of purity. But since it is impossiblethat man's nature can be altogether pure being mixed of suchmaterials, reason is applied, as far as it is possible, and reasonendeavours to make human nature love  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 theimpurity of the soul as you could discover that of the body: but as tothe soul, what else could you find in it than that which makes itfilthy in respect to the acts which are her own? Now the acts of thesoul are movement toward an object or movement from it, desire,aversion, preparation, design, assent. What, then, is it which inthese acts makes the soul filthy and impure? Nothing else than her ownbad judgements. Consequently, the impurity of the soul is the soul'sbad opinions; and the purification of the soul is the planting in itof proper opinions; and the soul is pure which has proper opinions,for the soul alone in her own acts is free from perturbation andpollution.  Now we ought to work at something like this in the body also, as faras we can. It was impossible for the defluxions of the nose not to runwhen man has such a mixture in his body. For this reason, nature hasmade hands and the nostrils themselves as channels for carrying offthe humours. If, then, a man sucks up the defluxions, I say that he isnot doing the act of a man. It was impossible for a man's feet notto be made muddy and not be soiled at all when he passes through dirtyplaces. For this reason, nature has made water and hands. It wasimpossible that some impurity should not remain in the teeth fromeating: for this reason, she says, wash the teeth. Why? In orderthat you may be a man and not a wild beast or a hog. It was impossiblethat from the sweat and the pressing of the clothes there should notremain some impurity about the body which requires to be cleaned away.For this reason water, oil, hands, towels, scrapers, nitre,sometimes all other kinds of means are necessary for cleaning thebody. You do not act so: but the smith will take off the rust from theiron, and be will have tools prepared for this purpose, and youyourself wash the platter when you are going to eat, if you are notcompletely impure and dirty: but will you not wash the body nor makeit clean? "Why?" he replies. I will tell you again; in the firstplace, that you may do the acts of a man; then, that you may not bedisagreeable to those with whom you associate. You do something ofthis kind even in this matter, and you do not perceive it: you thinkthat you deserve to stink. Let it be so: deserve to stink. Do youthink that also those who sit by you, those who recline at tablewith you, that those who kiss you deserve the same? Either go into adesert, where you deserve to go, or live by yourself, and smellyourself. For it is just that you alone should enjoy your ownimpurity. But when you are in a city, to behave so inconsiderately andfoolishly, to what character do you think that it belongs? If naturehad entrusted to you a horse, would you have overlooked andneglected him? And now think that you have been intrusted with yourown body as with a horse; wash it, wipe it, take care that no manturns away from it, that no one gets out of the way for it. But whodoes not get out of the way of a dirty man, of a stinking man, of aman whose skin is foul, more than he does out of the way of a manwho is daubed with muck? That smell is from without, it is put uponhim; but the other smell is from want of care, from within, and in amanner from a body in putrefaction.  "But Socrates washed himself seldom." Yes, but his body was cleanand fair: and it was so agreeable and sweet that tile most beautifuland the most noble loved him, and desired to sit by him rather than bythe side of those who had the handsomest forms. It was in his powerneither to use the bath nor to wash himself, if he chose; and yetthe rare use of water had an effect. If you do not choose to wash withwarm water, wash with cold. But Aristophanes says:     Those who are pale, unshod, 'tis those I mean.For Aristophanes says of Socrates that he also walked the air andstole clothes from the palaestra. But all who have written aboutSocrates bear exactly the contrary evidence in his favour; they saythat he was pleasant not only to hear, but also to see. On the otherhand they write the same about Diogenes. For we ought not even bythe appearance of the body to deter the multitude from philosophy; butas in other things, a philosopher should show himself cheerful andtranquil, 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 amwithout a house, and without a city, and an exile, if it happens to beso, and without a hearth I live more free from trouble and morehappily than all of noble birth and than the rich. But look at my poorbody also and observe that it is not injured by my hard way ofliving." But if a man says this to me, who has the appearance and faceof 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 doso, even if I were going to become a wise man. I indeed would ratherthat a young man, who is making his first movements toward philosophy,should come to me with his hair carefully trimmed than with it dirtyand rough, for there is seen in him a certain notion of beauty and adesire of that which is becoming; and where he supposes it to be,there also he strives that it shall be. It is only necessary to showhim, and to say: "Young man, you seek beauty, and you do well: youmust know then that it grows in that part of you where you have therational faculty: seek it there where you have the movements towardand the movements from things, where you have the desire toward, indthe aversion from things: for this is what you have in yourself of asuperior kind; but the poor body is naturally only earth: why do youlabour about it to no purpose? if you shall learn nothing else, youwill learn from time that the body is nothing." But if a man comesto me daubed with filth, dirty, with a mustache down to his knees,what can I say to him, by what kind of resemblance can I lead himon? For about what has he busied himself which resembles beauty,that I may be able to change him and "Beauty is not in this, but inthat?" Would you have me to tell him, that beauty consists not inbeing daubed with muck, but that it lies in the rational part? Hashe any desire of beauty? has he any form of it in his mind? Go andtalk to a hog, and tell him not to roll in the mud.  For this reason the words of Xenocrates touched Polemon also;since he was a lover of beauty, for he entered, having in himcertain incitements to love of beauty, but he looked for it in thewrong place. For nature has not made even the animals dirty which livewith man. Does a horse ever wallow in the mud or a well-bred dog?But the hog, and the dirty geese, and worms and spiders do, whichare banished furthest from human intercourse. Do you, then, being aman, choose to be not as one of the animals which live with man, butrather a worm, or a spider? Will you not wash yourself somewheresome time in such manner as you choose? Will you not wash off the dirtfrom your body? Will you not come clean that those with whom youkeep company may have pleasure in being with you? But do you go withus even into the temples in such a state, where it is not permitted tospit or blow the nose, being a heap of spittle and of snot?  When then? does any man require you to ornament yourself? Far fromit; except to ornament that which we really are by nature, therational faculty, the opinions, the actions; but as to the body onlyso far as purity, only so far as not to give offense. But if you aretold that you ought not to wear garments dyed with purple, go and daubyour cloak with muck or tear it. "But how shall I have a neatcloak?" Man, you have water; wash it. Here is a youth worthy ofbeing loved, here is an old man worthy of loving and being loved inreturn, a fit person for a man to intrust to him a son'sinstruction, to whom daughters and young men shall come, ifopportunity shall so happen, that the teacher shall deliver hislessons to them on a dunghill. Let this not be so: every deviationcomes from something which is in man's nature; but this is nearbeing something not in man's nature.  CHAPTER 12  On attention  When you have remitted your attention for a short time, do notimagine this, that you will recover it when you choose; but let butlet this thought be present to you, that in consequence of the faultcommitted to-day your affairs must be in a worse condition for allthat follows. For first, and what causes most trouble, a habit ofnot attending is formed in you; then a habit of deferring yourattention. And continually from time to time you drive away, bydeferring it, the happiness of life, proper behavior, the being andliving conformably to nature. If, then, the procrastination ofattention is profitable, the complete omission of attention is moreprofitable; but if it is not profitable, why do you not maintainyour attention constant? "To-day I choose to play." Well then, oughtyou not to play with attention? "I choose to sing." What, then,hinders you from doing so with attention? Is there any part of lifeexcepted, to which attention does not extend? For will you do it worseby using attention, and better by not attending at all? And whatelse of things in life is done better by those who do not useattention? Does he who works in wood work better by not attending toit? Does the captain of a ship manage it better by not attending?and is any of the smaller acts done better by inattention? Do younot see that, when you have let your mind loose, it is no longer inyour power to recall it, either to propriety, or to modesty, or tomoderation: but you do everything that comes into your mind inobedience to your inclinations?  To what things then ought I to attend? First to those general(principles) and to have them in readiness, and without them not tosleep, not to rise, not to drink, not to eat, not to converse withmen; that no man is master of another man's will, but that in the willalone is the good and the bad. No man, then, has the power either toprocure for me any good or to involve me in any evil, but I alonemyself over myself have power in these things. When, then, thesethings are secured to me, why need I be disturbed about externalthings? What tyrant is formidable, what disease, what poverty, whatoffense? "Well, I have not pleased a certain person." Is he then mywork, my judgement? "No." Why then should I trouble myself abouthim? "But he is supposed to be some one." He will look to thathimself; and those who think so will also. But I have One Whom I oughtto please, to Whom I ought to subject myself, Whom I ought to obey,God and those who are next to Him. He has placed me with myself, andhas put my will in obedience to myself alone, and has given me rulesfor the right use of it; and when I follow these rules insyllogisms, I do not care for any man who says anything else: insophistical argument, I care for no man. Why then in greater mattersdo those annoy me who blame me? What is the cause of thisperturbation? Nothing else than because in this matter I am notdisciplined. For all knowledge despises ignorance and the ignorant;and not only the sciences, but even the arts. Produce any shoemakerthat you please, and he ridicules the many in respect to his own work.Produce any carpenter.  First, then, we ought to have these in readiness, and to donothing without them, and we ought to keep the soul directed to thismark, to pursue nothing external, and nothing which belongs to others,but to do as He has appointed Who has the power; we ought to pursuealtogether the things which are in the power of the will, and allother things as it is permitted. Next to this we ought to remember whowe are, and what is our name, and to endeavour to direct our dutiestoward the character of our several relations in this manner: whatis the season for singing, what is the season for play, and in whosepresence; what will be the consequence of the act; whether ourassociates will despise us, whether we shall despise them; when tojeer, and whom to ridicule; and on what occasion to comply and withwhom; and finally, in complying how to maintain our own character. Butwherever you have deviated from any of these rules, there is damageimmediately, not from anything external, but from the action itself.  What then? is it possible to be free from faults? It is notpossible; but tills is possible, to direct your efforts incessantly tobeing faultless. For we must be content if by never remitting thisattention we shall escape at least a few errors. But now when you havesaid, "To-morrow I will begin to attend," you must be told that youare saying this, "To-day I will be shameless, disregardful of time andplace, mean; it will be in the power of others to give me pain; to-dayI will be passionate and envious." See how many evil things you arepermitting yourself to do. If it is good to use attention to-morrow,how much better is it to do so to-day? if to-morrow it is in yourinterest to attend, much more is it to-day, that you may be able to doso to-morrow also, and may not defer it again to the third day.  CHAPTER 13  Against or to those who readily tell their own affairs  When a man has seemed to us to have talked with simplicity about hisown affairs, how is it that at last we are ourselves also induced todiscover to him our own secrets and we think this to be candidbehavior? In the first place, because it seems unfair for a man tohave listened to the affairs of his neighbour, and not tocommunicate to him also in turn our own affairs: next, because wethink that we shall not present to them the appearance of candid menwhen we are silent about our own affairs. Indeed men are oftenaccustomed to say, "I have told you all my affairs, will you tell menothing of your own? where is this done?" Besides, we have also thisopinion that we can safely trust him who has already told us his ownaffairs; for the notion rises in our mind that this man could neverdivulge our affairs because he would be cautious that we also shouldnot divulge his. In this way also the incautious are caught by thesoldiers at Rome. A soldier sits by you in a common dress and beginsto speak ill of Caesar; then you, as if you had received a pledge ofhis fidelity by his having begun the abuse, utter yourself also whatyou think, and then you are carried off in chains.  Something of this kind happens to us generally. Now as this manhas confidently intrusted his affairs to me, shall I also do so to anyman whom I meet? For when I have heard, I keep silence, if I am ofsuch a disposition; but he goes forth and tells all men what he hasheard. Then if I hear what has been done, if I be a man like him, Iresolve to be revenged, I divulge what he has told me; I bothdisturb others and am disturbed myself. But if I remember that one mandoes not injure another, and that every man's acts injure and profithim, I secure this, that I do not anything like him, but still Isuffer what I do suffer through my own silly talk.  "True: but it is unfair when you have heard the secrets of yourneighbour for you in turn to communicate nothing to him." Did I askyou for your secrets, my man? did you communicate your affairs oncertain terms, that you should in return hear mine also? If you area babbler and think that all who meet you are friends, do you wishme also to be like you? But why, if you did well in entrusting youraffairs to me, and it is not well for me to intrust mine to you, doyou wish me to be so rash? It is just the same as if I had a caskwhich is water-tight, and you one with a hole in it, and you shouldcome 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 anyequality here? You intrusted your affairs to a man who is faithful andmodest, to a man who thinks that his own actions alone are injuriousand useful, and that nothing external is. Would you have me intrustmine to you, a man who has dishonoured his own faculty of will, andwho wishes to gain some small bit of money or some office or promotionin the court, even if you should be going to murder your own children,like Medea? Where is this equality? But show yourself to me to befaithful, 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 shallnot wait for you to trust me with your affairs, but I myself shallcome to you and ask you to hear mine. For who does not choose tomake use of a good vessel? Who does not value a benevolent andfaithful adviser? who will not willingly receive a man who is ready tobear 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.  "True: but I trust you; you do not trust me." In the first place,not even do you trust me, but you are a babbler, and for this reasonyou cannot hold anything; for indeed, if it is true that you trust me,trust your affairs to me only; but now, whenever you see a man atleisure, you seat yourself by him and say: "Brother, I have nofriend more benevolent than you nor dearer; I request you to listen tomy affairs." And you do this even to those who are not known to you atall. But if you really trust me, it is plain that you trust me becauseI am faithful and modest, not because I have told my affairs to you.Allow me, then, to have the same opinion about you. Show me that, ifone man tells his affairs to another, he who tells them is faithfuland modest. For if this were so, I would go about and tell myaffairs to every man, if that would make me faithful and modest. Butthe thing is not so, and it requires no common opinions. If, then, yousee a man who is busy about things not dependent on his will andsubjecting his will to them, you must know that this man has tenthousand persons to compel and hinder him. He has no need of pitchor the wheel to compel him to declare what he knows: but a littlegirl's nod, if it should so happen, will move him, the blandishment ofone who belongs to Caesar's court, desire of a magistracy or of aninheritance, and things without end of that sort. You must remember,then, among general principles that secret discourses require fidelityand corresponding opinions. But where can we now find these easily? Orif you cannot answer that question, let some one point out to me a manwho can say: "I care only about the things which are my own, thethings which are not subject to hindrance, the things which are bynature free." This I hold to be the nature of the good: but let allother things be as they are allowed; I do not concern myself.                                  -THE END-.