A Selection from the Discourses of Epictetus With the Encheiridion - Epictetus
What then is that which makes a man free from hindrance and makes him
his own master? For wealth does not do it, nor consulship, nor
provincial government, nor royal power; but something else must be
discovered. What then is that which when we write makes us free from
hindrance and unimpeded? The knowledge of the art of writing. What then
is it in playing the lute? The science of playing the lute. Therefore in
life also it is the science of life. You have then heard in a general
way; but examine the thing also in the several parts. Is it possible
that he who desires any of the things which depend on others can be free
from hindrance? No. Is it possible for him to be unimpeded? No.
Therefore he cannot be free. Consider then, whether we have nothing
which is in our own power only, or whether we have all things, or
whether some things are in our own power, and others in the power of
others. What do you mean? When you wish the body to be entire (sound) is
it in your power or not? It is not in my power. When you wish it to be
healthy? Neither is this in my power. When you wish it to be handsome?
Nor is this. Life or death? Neither is this in my power. Your body then
is another's, subject to every man who is stronger than yourself. It is.
But your estate is it in your power to have it when you please, and as
long as you please, and such as you please? No. And your slaves? No. And
your clothes? No. And your house? No. And your horses? Not one of these
things. And if you wish by all means your children to live, or your
wife, or your brother, or your friends, is it in your power? This also
is not in my power.
Whether then have you nothing which is in your own power, which depends
on yourself only and cannot be taken from you, or have you anything of
the kind? I know not. Look at the thing then thus, and examine it. Is
any man able to make you assent to that which is false? No man. In the
matter of assent then you are free from hindrance and obstruction.
Granted. Well; and can a man force you to desire to move towards that to
which you do not choose? He can, for when he threatens me with death or
bonds he compels me to desire to move towards it. If then you despise
death and bonds, do you still pay any regard to him? No. Is then the
despising of death an act of your own or is it not yours? It is my act.
When you have made this preparation, and have practised this discipline,
to distinguish that which belongs to another from that which is your
own, the things which are subject to hindrance from those which are not,
to consider the things free from hindrance to concern yourself, and
those which are not free not to concern yourself, to keep your desire
steadily fixed to the things which do concern yourself, and turned from
the things which do not concern yourself; do you still fear any man? No
one. For about what will you be afraid? About the things which are your
own, in which consists the nature of good and evil? and who has power
over these things? who can take them away? who can impede them? No man
can, no more than he can impede God. But will you be afraid about your
body and your possessions, about things which are not yours, about
things which in no way concern you? and what else have you been studying
from the beginning than to distinguish between your own and not your
own, the things which are in your power and not in your power, the
things subject to hindrance and not subject? and why have you come to
the philosophers? was it that you may nevertheless be unfortunate and
unhappy? You will then in this way, as I have supposed you to have done,
be without fear and disturbance. And what is grief to you? for fear
comes from what you expect, but grief from that which is present. But
what further will you desire? For of the things which are within the
power of the will, as being good and present, you have a proper and
regulated desire; but of the things which are not in the power of the
will you do not desire any one, and so you do not allow any place to
that which is irrational, and impatient, and above measure hasty.
Then after receiving everything from another and even yourself, are you
angry and do you blame the giver if he takes anything from you? Who are
you, and for what purpose did you come into the world? Did not he (God)
introduce you here, did he not show you the light, did he not give you
fellow-workers, and perceptions and reason? and as whom did he introduce
you here? did he not introduce you as subject to death, and as one to
live on the earth with a little flesh, and to observe his
administration, and to join with him in the spectacle and the festival
for a short time? Will you not then, as long as you have been permitted,
after seeing the spectacle and the solemnity, when he leads you out, go
with adoration of him and thanks for what you have heard and seen? No;
but I would still enjoy the feast. The initiated too would wish to be
longer in the initiation; and perhaps also those at Olympia to see other
athletes. But the solemnity is ended; go away like a grateful and modest
man; make room for others; others also must be born, as you were, and,
being born, they must have a place, and houses, and necessary things.
And if the first do not retire, what remains? Why are you insatiable?
Why are you not content? why do you contract the world? Yes, but I would
have my little children with me and my wife. What, are they yours? do
they not belong to the giver, and to him who made you? then will you not
give up what belongs to others? will you not give way to him who is
superior? Why then did he introduce me into the world on these
conditions? And if the conditions do not suit you, depart. He has no
need of a spectator who is not satisfied. He wants those who join in the
festival, those who take part in the chorus, that they may rather
applaud, admire, and celebrate with hymns the solemnity. But those who
can bear no trouble, and the cowardly, he will not unwillingly see
absent from the great assembly ([Greek: panaeguris]) for they did not
when they were present behave as they ought to do at a festival nor fill
up their place properly, but they lamented, found fault with the deity,
fortune, their companions; not seeing both what they had, and their own
powers, which they received for contrary purposes, the powers of
magnanimity, of a generous mind, manly spirit, and what we are now
inquiring about, freedom. For what purpose then have I received these
things? To use them. How long? So long as he who has lent them chooses.
What if they are necessary to me? Do not attach yourself to them and
they will not be necessary; do not say to yourself that they are
necessary, and then they are not necessary.
You then, a man may say, are you free? I wish, by the gods, and pray to
be free; but I am not yet able to face my masters, I still value my poor
body, I value greatly the preservation of it entire, though I do not
possess it entire. But I can point out to you a free man, that you may
no longer seek an example. Diogenes was free. How was he free? Not
because he was born of free parents, but because he was himself free,
because he had cast off all the handles of slavery, and it was not
possible for any man to approach him, nor had any man the means of
laying hold of him to enslave him. He had everything easily loosed,
everything only hanging to him. If you laid hold of his property, he
would have rather let it go and be yours, than he would have followed
you for it; if you had laid hold of his leg, he would have let go his
leg; if of all his body, all his poor body; his intimates, friends,
country, just the same. For he knew from whence he had them, and from
whom, and on what conditions. His true parents indeed, the gods, and his
real country he would never have deserted, nor would he have yielded to
any man in obedience to them and to their orders, nor would any man have
died for his country more readily. For he was not used to inquire when
he should be considered to have done anything on behalf of the whole of
things (the universe, or all the world), but he remembered that
everything which is done comes from thence and is done on behalf of that
country and is commanded by him who administers it. Therefore see what
Diogenes himself says and writes: "For this reason," he says, "Diogenes,
it is in your power to speak both with the King of the Persians and with
Archidamus the King of the Lacedaemonians, as you please." Was it
because he was born of free parents? I suppose all the Athenians and all
the Lacedaemonians, because they were born of slaves, could not talk
with them (these kings) as they wished, but feared and paid court to
them. Why then does he say that it is in his power? Because I do not
consider the poor body to be my own, because I want nothing, because law
is everything to me, and nothing else is. These were the things which
permitted him to be free.
Think of these things, these opinions, these words; look to these
examples, if you would be free, if you desire the thing according to its
worth. And what is the wonder if you buy so great a thing at the price
of things so many and so great? For the sake of this which is called
liberty, some hang themselves, others throw themselves down precipices,
and sometimes even whole cities have perished; and will you not for the
sake of the true and unassailable and secure liberty give back to God
when he demands them the things which he has given? Will you not, as
Plato says, study not to die only, but also to endure torture, and
exile, and scourging, and, in a word, to give up all which is not your
own? If you will not, you will be a slave among slaves, even if you be
ten thousand times a consul; and if you make your way up to the palace
(Caesar's residence), you will no less be a slave; and you will feel that
perhaps philosophers utter words which are contrary to common opinion
(paradoxes), as Cleanthes also said, but not words contrary to reason.
For you will know by experience that the words are true, and that there
is no profit from the things which are valued and eagerly sought to
those who have obtained them; and to those who have not yet obtained
them there is an imagination ([Greek: phantasia]), that when these
things are come, all that is good will come with them; then, when they
are come, the feverish feeling is the same, the tossing to and fro is
the same, the satiety, the desire of things, which are not present; for
freedom is acquired not by the full possession of the things which are
desired, but by removing the desire. And that you may know that this is
true, as you have labored for those things, so transfer your labor to
these: be vigilant for the purpose of acquiring an opinion which will
make you free; pay court to a philosopher instead of to a rich old man;
be seen about a philosopher's doors; you will not disgrace yourself by
being seen; you will not go away empty nor without profit, if you go to
the philosopher as you ought, and if not (if you do not succeed), try at
least; the trial (attempt) is not disgraceful.
* * * * *
ON FAMILIAR INTIMACY.--To this matter before all you must attend, that
you be never so closely connected with any of your former intimates or
friends as to come down to the same acts as he does. If you do not
observe this rule, you will ruin yourself. But if the thought arises in
your mind, "I shall seem disobliging to him and he will not have the
same feeling towards me," remember that nothing is done without cost,
nor is it possible for a man if he does not do the same things to be the
same man that he was. Choose then which of the two you will have, to be
equally loved by those by whom you were formerly loved, being the same
with your former self; or, being superior, not to obtain from your
friends the same that you did before.
* * * * *
WHAT THINGS WE SHOULD EXCHANGE FOR OTHER THINGS.--Keep this thought in
readiness, when you lose anything external, what you acquire in place of
it; and if it be worth more, never say, I have had a loss; neither if
you have got a horse in place of an ass, or an ox in place of a sheep,
nor a good action in place of a bit of money, nor in place of idle talk
such tranquillity as befits a man, nor in place of lewd talk if you have
acquired modesty. If you remember this, you will always maintain your
character such as it ought to be. But if you do not, consider that the
times of opportunity are perishing, and that whatever pains you take
about yourself, you are going to waste them all and overturn them. And
it needs only a few things for the loss and overturning of all--namely,
a small deviation from reason. For the steerer of a ship to upset it, he
has no need of the same means as he has need of for saving it; but if he
turns it a little to the wind, it is lost; and if he does not do this
purposely, but has been neglecting his duty a little, the ship is lost.
Something of the kind happens in this case also; if you only fall a
nodding a little, all that you have up to this time collected is gone.
Attend therefore to the appearances of things, and watch over them; for
that which you have to preserve is no small matter, but it is modesty
and fidelity and constancy, freedom from the affects, a state of mind
undisturbed, freedom from fear, tranquillity, in a word liberty. For
what will you sell these things? See what is the value of the things
which you will obtain in exchange for these.--But shall I not obtain any
such thing for it?--See, and if you do in return get that, see what you
receive in place of it. I possess decency, he possesses a tribuneship:
he possesses a praetorship, I possess modesty. But I do not make
acclamations where it is not becoming: I will not stand up where I ought
not; for I am free, and a friend of God. and so I obey him willingly.
But I must not claim (seek) anything else, neither body nor possession,
nor magistracy, nor good report, nor in fact anything. For he (God) does
not allow me to claim (seek) them, for if he had chosen, he would have
made them good for me; but he has not done so, and for this reason I
cannot transgress his commands. Preserve that which is your own good in
everything; and as to every other thing, as it is permitted, and so far
as to behave consistently with reason in respect to them, content with
this only. If you do not, you will be unfortunate, you will fail in all
things, you will be hindered, you will be impeded. These are the laws
which have been sent from thence (from God); these are the orders. Of
these laws a man ought to be an expositor, to these he ought to submit,
not to those of Masurius and Cassius.
* * * * *
TO THOSE WHO ARE DESIROUS OF PASSING LIFE IN TRANQUILLITY.--Remember
that not only the desire of power and of riches makes us mean and
subject to others, but even the desire of tranquillity, and of leisure,
and of travelling abroad, and of learning. For, to speak plainly,
whatever the external thing may be, the value which we set upon it
places us in subjection to others. What then is the difference between
desiring to be a senator or not desiring to be one; what is the
difference between desiring power or being content with a private
station; what is the difference between saying, I am unhappy, I have
nothing to do, but I am bound to my books as a corpse; or saying, I am
unhappy, I have no leisure for reading? For as salutations and power are
things external and independent of the will, so is a book. For what
purpose do you choose to read? Tell me. For if you only direct your
purpose to being amused or learning something, you are a silly fellow
and incapable of enduring labor. But if you refer reading to the proper
end, what else is this than a tranquil and happy life ([Greek: eusoia])?
But if reading does not secure for you a happy and tranquil life, what
is the use of it? But it does secure this, the man replies, and for this
reason I am vexed that I am deprived of it.--And what is this tranquil
and happy life, which any man can impede, I do not say Caesar or Caesar's
friend, but a crow, a piper, a fever, and thirty thousand other things?
But a tranquil and happy life contains nothing so sure as continuity and
freedom from obstacle. Now I am called to do something: I will go then
with the purpose of observing the measures (rules) which I must keep, of
acting with modesty, steadiness, without desire and aversion to things
external; and then that I may attend to men, what they say, how they are
moved; and this not with any bad disposition, or that I may have
something to blame or to ridicule; but I turn to myself, and ask if I
also commit the same faults. How then shall I cease to commit them?
Formerly I also acted wrong, but now I do not: thanks to God.
What then is the reason of this? The reason is that we have never read
for this purpose, we have never written for this purpose, so that we may
in our actions use in a way conformable to nature the appearances
presented to us; but we terminate in this, in learning what is said, and
in being able to expound it to another, in resolving a syllogism, and in
handling the hypothetical syllogism. For this reason where our study
(purpose) is, there alone is the impediment. Would you have by all means
the things which are not in your power? Be prevented then, be hindered,
fail in your purpose. But if we read what is written about action
(efforts, [Greek: hormae]), not that we may see what is said about
action, but that we may act well; if we read what is said about desire
and aversion (avoiding things), in order that we may neither fail in our
desires, nor fall into that which we try to avoid; if we read what is
said about duty (officium), in order that remembering the relations (of
things to one another) we may do nothing irrationally nor contrary to
these relations; we should not be vexed, in being hindered as to our
readings, but we should be satisfied with doing the acts which are
conformable (to the relations), and we should be reckoning not what so
far we have been accustomed to reckon: To-day I have read so many
verses, I have written so many; but (we should say), To-day I have
employed my action as it is taught by the philosophers; I have not
employed my desire; I have used avoidance ([Greek: echchlisei]) only
with respect to things which are within the power of my will; I have not
been afraid of such a person, I have not been prevailed upon by the
entreaties of another; I have exercised my patience, my abstinence, my
co-operation with others; and so we should thank God for what we ought
to thank him.
There is only one way to happiness, and let this rule be ready both in
the morning and during the day and by night: the rule is not to look
towards things which are out of the power of our will, to think that
nothing is our own, to give up all things to the Divinity, to Fortune;
to make them the superintendents of these things, whom Zeus also has
made so; for a man to observe that only which is his own, that which
cannot be hindered; and when we read, to refer our reading to this only,
and our writing and our listening. For this reason I cannot call the man
industrious, if I hear this only, that he reads and writes; and even if
a man adds that he reads all night, I cannot say so, if he knows not to
what he should refer his reading. For neither do you say that a man is
industrious if he keeps awake for a girl, nor do I. But if he does it
(reads and writes) for reputation, I say that he is a lover of
reputation. And if he does it for money, I say that he is a lover of
money, not a lover of labor; and if he does it through love of learning,
I say that he is a lover of learning. But if he refers his labor to his
own ruling power that he may keep it in a state conformable to nature
and pass his life in that state, then only do I say that he is
industrious. For never commend a man on account of these things which
are common to all, but on account of his opinions (principles); for
these are the things which belong to each man, which make his actions
bad or good. Remembering these rules, rejoice in that which is present,
and be content with the things which come in season. If you see anything
which you have learned and inquired about occurring to you in your
course of life (or opportunely applied by you to the acts of life), be
delighted at it. If you have laid aside or have lessened bad disposition
and a habit of reviling; if you have done so with rash temper, obscene
words, hastiness, sluggishness; if you are not moved by what you
formerly were, and not in the same way as you once were, you can
celebrate a festival daily, to-day because you have behaved well in one
act, and to-morrow because you have behaved well in another. How much
greater is this a reason for making sacrifices than a consulship or the
government of a province? These things come to you from yourself and
from the gods. Remember this, who gives these things and to whom, and
for what purpose. If you cherish yourself in these thoughts, do you
still think that it makes any difference where you shall be happy, where
you shall please God? Are not the gods equally distant from all places?
Do they not see from all places alike that which is going on?
* * * * *
AGAINST THE QUARRELSOME AND FEROCIOUS.--The wise and good man neither
himself fights with any person, nor does he allow another, so far as he
can prevent it. And an example of this as well as of all other things is
proposed to us in the life of Socrates, who not only himself on all
occasions avoided fights (quarrels), but would not allow even others to
quarrel. See in Xenophon's Symposium how many quarrels he settled, how
further he endured Thrasymachus and Polus and Callicles; how he
tolerated his wife, and how he tolerated his son who attempted to
confute him and to cavil with him. For he remembered well that no man
has in his power another man's ruling principle. He wished therefore for
nothing else than that which was his own. And what is this? Not that
this or that man may act according to nature, for that is a thing which
belongs to another; but that while others are doing their own acts, as
they choose, he may nevertheless be in a condition conformable to nature
and live in it, only doing what is his own to the end that others also
may be in a state conformable to nature. For this is the object always
set before him by the wise and good man. Is it to be commander (a
praetor) of an army? No; but if it is permitted him, his object is in
this matter to maintain his own ruling principle. Is it to marry? No;
but if marriage is allowed to him, in this matter his object is to
maintain himself in a condition conformable to nature. But if he would
have his son not to do wrong or his wife, he would have what belongs to
another not to belong to another: and to be instructed is this, to learn
what things are a man's own and what belongs to another.
How then is there left any place for fighting (quarrelling) to a man who
has this opinion (which he ought to have)? Is he surprised at any thing
which happens, and does it appear new to him? Does he not expect that
which comes from the bad to be worse and more grievous than that what
actually befalls him? And does he not reckon as pure gain whatever they
(the bad) may do which falls short of extreme wickedness? Such a person
has reviled you. Great thanks to him for not having struck you. But he
has struck me also. Great thanks that he did not wound you. But he
wounded me also. Great thanks that he did not kill you. For when did he
learn or in what school that man is a tame animal, that men love one
another, that an act of injustice is a great harm to him who does it.
Since then he has not learned this and is not convinced of it, why shall
he not follow that which seems to be for his own interest? Your neighbor
has thrown stones. Have you then done anything wrong? But the things in
the house have been broken. Are you then a utensil? No; but a free power
of will. What then is given to you (to do) in answer to this? If you are
like a wolf, you must bite in return, and throw more stones. But, if you
consider what is proper for a man, examine your storehouse, see with
what faculties you came into the world. Have you the disposition of a
wild beast, have you the disposition of revenge for an injury? When is a
horse wretched? When he is deprived of his natural faculties, not when
he cannot crow like a cock, but when he cannot run. When is a dog
wretched? Not when he cannot fly, but when he cannot track his game. Is
then a man also unhappy in this way, not because he cannot strangle
lions or embrace statues, for he did not come into the world in the
possession of certain powers from nature for this purpose, but because
he has lost his probity and his fidelity? People ought to meet and
lament such a man for the misfortunes into which he has fallen; not
indeed to lament because a man has been born or has died, but because it
has happened to him in his lifetime to have lost the things which are
his own, not that which he received from his father, not his land and
house, and his inn, and his slaves; for not one of these things is a
man's own, but all belong to others, are servile, and subject to account
([Greek: hupeithuna]), at different times given to different persons by
those who have them in their power: but I mean the things which belong
to him as a man, the marks (stamps) in his mind with which he came into
the world, such as we seek also on coins, and if we find them we approve
of the coins, and if we do not find the marks we reject them. What is
the stamp on this sestertius? The stamp of Trajan. Present it. It is the
stamp of Nero. Throw it away; it cannot be accepted, it is counterfeit.
So also in this case: What is the stamp of his opinions? It is
gentleness, a sociable disposition, a tolerant temper, a disposition to
mutual affections. Produce these qualities. I accept them: I consider
this man a citizen, I accept him as a neighbor, a companion in my
voyages. Only see that he has not Nero's stamp. Is he passionate, is he
full of resentment, is he fault-finding? If the whim seizes him, does he
break the heads of those who come in his way? (If so), why then did you
say that he is a man? Is everything judged (determined) by the bare
form? If that is so, say that the form in wax is an apple and has the
smell and the taste of an apple. But the external figure is not enough:
neither then is the nose enough and the eyes to make the man, but he
must have the opinions of a man. Here is a man who does not listen to
reason, who does not know when he is refuted: he is an ass; in another
man the sense of shame is become dead: he is good for nothing, he is
anything rather than a man. This man seeks whom he may meet and kick or
bite, so that he is not even a sheep or an ass, but a kind of wild
beast.