A Selection from the Discourses of Epictetus With the Encheiridion - Epictetus
What then? would you have me to be despised?--By whom? by those who know
you? and how shall those who know you despise a man who is gentle and
modest? Perhaps you mean by those who do not know you? What is that to
you? For no other artisan cares for the opinion of those who know not
his art. But they will be more hostile to me for this reason. Why do you
say "me"? Can any man injure your will, or prevent you from using in a
natural way the appearances which are presented to you? In no way can
he. Why then are you still disturbed and why do you choose to show
yourself afraid? And why do you not come forth and proclaim that you are
at peace with all men whatever they may do, and laugh at those chiefly
who think that they can harm you? These slaves, you can say, know not
either who I am, nor where lies my good or my evil, because they have no
access to the things which are mine.
In this way also those who occupy a strong city mock the besiegers (and
say): What trouble these men are now taking for nothing; our wall is
secure, we have food for a very long time, and all other resources.
These are the things which make a city strong and impregnable; but
nothing else than his opinions makes a man's soul impregnable. For what
wall is so strong, or what body is so hard, or what possession is so
safe, or what honor (rank, character) so free from assault (as a man's
opinions)? All (other) things everywhere are perishable, easily taken by
assault, and if any man in any way is attached to them, he must be
disturbed, except what is bad, he must fear, lament, find his desires
disappointed, and fall into things which he would avoid. Then do we not
choose to make secure the only means of safety which are offered to us,
and do we not choose to withdraw ourselves from that which is perishable
and servile and to labor at the things which are imperishable and by
nature free; and do we not remember that no man either hurts another or
does good to another, but that a man's opinions about each thing, is
that which hurts him, is that which overturns him; this is fighting,
this is civil discord, this is war? That which made Eteocles and
Polynices enemies was nothing else than this opinion which they had
about royal power, their opinion about exile, that the one is the
extreme of evils, the other the greatest good. Now this is the nature of
every man to seek the good, to avoid the bad; to consider him who
deprives us of the one and involves us in the other an enemy and
treacherous, even if he be a brother, or a son, or a father. For nothing
is more akin to us than the good; therefore, if these things (externals)
are good and evil, neither is a father a friend to sons, nor a brother
to a brother, but all the world is everywhere full of enemies,
treacherous men, and sycophants. But if the will ([Greek: proairesis],
the purpose, the intention) being what it ought to be, is the only good;
and if the will being such as it ought not to be, is the only evil,
where is there any strife, where is there reviling? about what? about
the things which do not concern us? and strife with whom? with the
ignorant, the unhappy, with those who are deceived about the chief
things?
Remembering this Socrates managed his own house and endured a very
ill-tempered wife and a foolish (ungrateful?) son.
* * * * *
AGAINST THOSE WHO LAMENT OVER BEING PITIED.--I am grieved, a man says,
at being pitied. Whether then is the fact of your being pitied a thing
which concerns you or those who pity you? Well, is it in your power to
stop this pity? It is in my power, if I show them that I do not require
pity. And whether then are you in the condition of not deserving
(requiring) pity, or are you not in that condition? I think that I am
not; but these persons do not pity me, for the things for which, if they
ought to pity me, it would be proper, I mean, for my faults; but they
pity me for my poverty, for not possessing honorable offices, for
diseases and deaths and other such things. Whether then are you prepared
to convince the many, that not one of these things is an evil, but that
it is possible for a man who is poor and has no office ([Greek:
anarchonti)] and enjoys no honor to be happy; or to show yourself to
them as rich and in power? For the second of these things belong to a
man who is boastful, silly, and good for nothing. And consider by what
means the pretence must be supported. It will be necessary for you to
hire slaves and to possess a few silver vessels, and to exhibit them in
public, if it is possible, though they are often the same, and to
attempt to conceal the fact that they are the same, and to have splendid
garments, and all other things for display, and to show that you are a
man honored by the great, and to try to sup at their houses, or to be
supposed to sup there, and as to your person to employ some mean arts,
that you may appear to be more handsome and nobler than you are. These
things you must contrive, if you choose to go by the second path in
order not to be pitied. But the first way is both impracticable and
long, to attempt the very thing which Zeus has not been able to do, to
convince all men what things are good and bad. Is this power given to
you? This only is given to you, to convince yourself; and you have not
convinced yourself. Then I ask you, do you attempt to persuade other
men? and who has lived so long with you as you with yourself? and who
has so much power of convincing you as you have of convincing yourself;
and who is better disposed and nearer to you than you are to yourself?
How then have you not yet convinced yourself in order to learn? At
present are not things upside down? Is this what you have been earnest
about doing, to learn to be free from grief and free from disturbance,
and not to be humbled (abject), and to be free? Have you not heard then
that there is only one way which leads to this end, to give up (dismiss)
the things which do not depend on the will, to withdraw from them, and
to admit that they belong to others? For another man then to have an
opinion about you, of what kind is it? It is a thing independent of the
will--Then is it nothing to you? It is nothing. When then you are still
vexed at this and disturbed, do you think that you are convinced about
good and evil?
* * * * *
ON FREEDOM FROM FEAR.--What makes the tyrant formidable? The guards, you
say, and their swords, and the men of the bedchamber, and those who
exclude them who would enter. Why then if you bring a boy (child) to the
tyrant when he is with his guards, is he not afraid; or is it because
the child does not understand these things? If then any man does
understand what guards are and that they have swords, and comes to the
tyrant for this very purpose because he wishes to die on account of some
circumstance and seeks to die easily by the hand of another, is he
afraid of the guards? No, for he wishes for the thing which makes the
guards formidable. If then any man neither wishing to die nor to live by
all means, but only as it may be permitted, approaches the tyrant what
hinders him from approaching the tyrant without fear? Nothing. If then a
man has the same opinion about his property as the man whom I have
instanced has about his body; and also about his children and his wife,
and in a word is so affected by some madness or despair that he cares
not whether he possesses them or not, but like children who are playing
with shells (quarrel) about the play, but do not trouble themselves
about the shells, so he too has set no value on the materials (things),
but values the pleasure that he has with them and the occupation, what
tyrant is then formidable to him, or what guards or what swords?
What hinders a man, who has clearly separated (comprehended) these
things, from living with a light heart and bearing easily the reins,
quietly expecting everything which can happen, and enduring that which
has already happened? Would you have me to bear poverty? Come and you
will know what poverty is when it has found one who can act well the
part of a poor man. Would you have me to possess power? Let me have
power, and also the trouble of it. Well, banishment? Wherever I shall
go, there it will be well with me; for here also where I am, it was not
because of the place that it was well with me, but because of my
opinions which I shall carry off with me, for neither can any man
deprive me of them; but my opinions alone are mine and they cannot be
taken from me, and I am satisfied while I have them, wherever I may be
and whatever I am doing. But now it is time to die. Why do you say to
die? Make no tragedy show of the thing, but speak of it as it is. It is
now time for the matter (of the body) to be resolved into the things out
of which it was composed. And what is the formidable thing here? what is
going to perish of the things which are in the universe? what new thing
or wondrous is going to happen? Is it for this reason that a tyrant is
formidable? Is it for this reason that the guards appear to have swords
which are large and sharp? Say this to others; but I have considered
about all these things; no man has power over me. I have been made free;
I know his commands, no man can now lead me as a slave. I have a proper
person to assert my freedom; I have proper judges. (I say) are you not
the master of my body? What then is that to me? Are you not the master
of my property? What then is that to me? Are you not the master of my
exile or of my chains? Well, from all these things and all the poor body
itself I depart at your bidding, when you please. Make trial of your
power, and you will know how far it reaches.
Whom then can I still fear? Those who are over the bedchamber? Lest they
should do, what? Shut me out? If they find that I wish to enter, let
them shut me out. Why then do you go to the doors? Because I think it
befits me, while the play (sport) lasts, to join in it. How then are you
not shut out? Because unless some one allows me to go in, I do not
choose to go in, but am always content with that which happens; for I
think that what God chooses is better than what I choose. I will attach
myself as a minister and follower to him; I have the same movements
(pursuits) as he has, I have the same desires; in a word, I have the
same will ([Greek: sunthelo]). There is no shutting out for me, but for
those who would force their way in. Why then do not I force my way in?
Because I know that nothing good is distributed within to those who
enter. But when I hear any man called fortunate because he is honored by
Caesar, I say what does he happen to get? A province (the government of a
province). Does he also obtain an opinion such as he ought? The office
of a Prefect. Does he also obtain the power of using his office well?
Why do I still strive to enter (Caesar's chamber)? A man scatters dried
figs and nuts: the children seize them, and fight with one another; men
do not, for they think them to be a small matter. But if a man should
throw about shells, even the children do not seize them. Provinces are
distributed: let children look to that. Money is distributed; let
children look to that. Praetorships, consulships, are distributed; let
children scramble for them, let them be shut out, beaten, kiss the hands
of the giver, of the slaves: but to me these are only dried figs and
nuts. What then? If you fail to get them, while Caesar is scattering them
about, do not be troubled; if a dried fig come into your lap, take it
and eat it; for so far you may value even a fig. But if I shall stoop
down and turn another over, or be turned over by another, and shall
flatter those who have got into (Caesar's) chamber, neither is a dried
fig worth the trouble, nor anything else of the things which are not
good, which the philosophers have persuaded me not to think good.
* * * * *
TO A PERSON WHO HAD BEEN CHANGED TO A CHARACTER OF SHAMELESSNESS.--When
you see another man in the possession of power (magistracy), set against
this the fact that you have not the want (desire) of power; when you see
another rich, see what you possess in place of riches: for if you
possess nothing in place of them, you are miserable; but if you have not
the want of riches, know that you possess more than this man possesses
and what is worth much more.
* * * * *
WHAT THINGS WE OUGHT TO DESPISE AND WHAT THINGS WE OUGHT TO VALUE.--The
difficulties of all men are about external things, their helplessness is
about external. What shall I do? how will it be? how will it turn out?
will this happen? will that? All these are the words of those who are
turning themselves to things which are not within the power of the will.
For who says, How shall I not assent to that which is false? how shall I
not turn away from the truth? If a man be of such a good disposition as
to be anxious about these things I will remind him of this: Why are you
anxious? The thing is in your own power, be assured; do not be
precipitate in assenting before you apply the natural rule. On the other
side, if a man is anxious (uneasy) about desire, lest it fail in its
purpose and miss its end, and with respect to the avoidance of things,
lest he should fall into that which he would avoid, I will first kiss
(love) him, because he throws away the things about which others are in
a flutter (others desire) and their fears, and employs his thoughts
about his own affairs and his own condition. Then I shall say to him: If
you do not choose to desire that which you will fail to obtain nor to
attempt to avoid that into which you will fall, desire nothing which
belongs to (which is in the power of) others, nor try to avoid any of
the things which are not in your power. If you do not observe this rule,
you must of necessity fail in your desires and fall into that which you
would avoid. What is the difficulty here? where is there room for the
words How will it be? and How will it turn out? and Will this happen or
that?
Now is not that which will happen independent of the will? Yes. And the
nature of good and of evil, is it not in the things which are within the
power of the will? Yes. Is it in your power then to treat according to
nature everything which happens? Can any person hinder you? No man. No
longer then say to me, How will it be? For, however it may be, you will
dispose of it well, and the result to you will be a fortunate one. What
would Hercules have been if he said: How shall a great lion not appear
to me, or a great boar, or savage men? And what do you care for that? If
a great boar appear, you will fight a greater fight; if bad men appear,
you will relieve the earth of the bad. Suppose then that I lose my life
in this way. You will die a good man, doing a noble act. For since he
must certainly die, of necessity a man must be found doing something,
either following the employment of a husbandman, or digging, or trading,
or serving in a consulship, or suffering from indigestion or from
diarrhoea. What then do you wish to be doing when you are found by
death? I, for my part, would wish to be found doing something which
belongs to a man, beneficent, suitable to the general interest, noble.
But if I cannot be found doing things so great, I would be found doing
at least that which I cannot be hindered from doing, that which is
permitted me to do, correcting myself, cultivating the faculty which
makes use of appearances, laboring at freedom from the affects (laboring
at tranquillity of mind); rendering to the relations of life their due.
If I succeed so far, also (I would be found) touching on (advancing to)
the third topic (or head) safety in forming judgments about things. If
death surprises me when I am busy about these things, it is enough for
me if I can stretch out my hands to God and say: The means which I have
received from thee for seeing thy administration (of the world) and
following it I have not neglected; I have not dishonored thee by my
acts; see how I have used my perceptions, see how I have used my
preconceptions; have I ever blamed thee? have I been discontented with
anything that happens, or wished it to be otherwise? have I wished to
transgress the (established) relations (of things)? That thou hast given
me life, I thank thee for what thou hast given. So long as I have used
the things which are thine I am content. Take them back and place them
wherever thou mayest choose, for thine were all things, thou gavest them
to me. Is it not enough to depart in this state of mind? and what life
is better and more becoming than that of a man who is in this state of
mind? and what end is more happy?
* * * * *
ABOUT PURITY (CLEANLINESS).--Some persons raise a question whether the
social feeling is contained in the nature of man; and yet I think that
these same persons would have no doubt that love of purity is certainly
contained in it, and that if man is distinguished from other animals by
anything, he is distinguished by this. When then we see any other animal
cleaning itself, we are accustomed to speak of the act with surprise,
and to add that the animal is acting like a man; and on the other hand,
if a man blames an animal for being dirty, straightway, as if we were
making an excuse for it, we say that of course the animal is not a human
creature. So we suppose that there is something superior in man, and
that we first receive it from the gods. For since the gods by their
nature are pure and free from corruption, so far as men approach them by
reason, so far do they cling to purity and to a love (habit) of purity.
But since it is impossible that man's nature ([Greek: ousia]) can be
altogether pure, being mixed (composed) of such materials, reason is
applied, as far as it is possible, and reason endeavors to make human
nature love purity.
The first then and highest purity is that which is in the soul; and we
say the same of impurity. Now you could not discover the impurity of the
soul as you could discover that of the body; but as to the soul, what
else could you find in it than that which makes it filthy in respect to
the acts which are her own? Now the acts of the soul are movement
towards an object or movement from it, desire, aversion, preparation,
design (purpose), assent. What then is it which in these acts makes the
soul filthy and impure? Nothing else than her own bad judgments ([Greek:
chrimata]). Consequently the impurity of the soul is the soul's bad
opinions; and the purification of the soul is the planting in it of
proper opinions; and the soul is pure which has proper opinions, for the
soul alone in her own acts is free from perturbation and pollution.
For we ought not even by the appearance of the body to deter the
multitude from philosophy; but as in other things, a philosopher should
show himself cheerful and tranquil, so also he should in the things that
relate to the body. See, ye men, that I have nothing, that I want
nothing; see how I am without a house, and without a city, and an exile,
if it happens to be so, and without a hearth I live more free from
trouble and more happily than all of noble birth and than the rich. But
look at my poor body also and observe that it is not injured by my hard
way of living. But if a man says this to me, who has the appearance
(dress) and face of a condemned man, what god shall persuade me to
approach philosophy, if it makes men such persons? Far from it; I would
not choose to do so, even if I were going to become a wise man. I indeed
would rather that a young man, who is making his first movements towards
philosophy, should come to me with his hair carefully trimmed than with
it dirty and rough, for there is seen in him a certain notion
(appearance) of beauty and a desire of (attempt at) that which is
becoming; and where he supposes it to be, there also he strives that it
shall be. It is only necessary to show him (what it is), and to say:
Young man, you seek beauty, and you do well; you must know then that it
(is produced) grows in that part of you where you have the rational
faculty; seek it there where you have the movements towards and
movements from things, where you have the desires towards and the
aversion from things; for this is what you have in yourself of a
superior kind; but the poor body is naturally only earth; why do you
labor about it to no purpose? if you shall learn nothing else, you will
learn from time that the body is nothing. But if a man comes to me
daubed with filth, dirty, with a moustache down to his knees, what can I
say to him, by what kind of resemblance can I lead him on? For about
what has he busied himself which resembles beauty, that I may be able to
change him and say, Beauty is not in this, but in that? Would you have
me to tell him, that beauty consists not in being daubed with muck, but
that it lies in the rational part? Has he any desire of beauty? has he
any form of it in his mind? Go and talk to a hog, and tell him not to
roll in the mud.
* * * * *
ON ATTENTION.--When you have remitted your attention for a short time,
do not imagine this, that you will recover it when you choose; but let
this thought be present to you, that in consequence of the fault
committed today your affairs must be in a worse condition for all that
follows. For first, and what causes most trouble, a habit of not
attending is formed in you; then a habit of deferring your attention.
And continually from time to time you drive away by deferring it the
happiness of life, proper behavior, the being and living conformably to
nature. If then the procrastination of attention is profitable, the
complete omission of attention is more profitable; but if it is not
profitable, why do you not maintain your attention constant? Today I
choose to play. Well then, ought you not to play with attention? I
choose to sing. What then hinders you from doing so with attention? Is
there any part of life excepted, to which attention does not extend? For
will you do it (anything in life) worse by using attention, and better
by not attending at all? And what else of the things in life is done
better by those who do not use attention? Does he who works in wood work
better by not attending to it? Does the captain of a ship manage it
better by not attending? and are any of the smaller acts done better by
inattention? Do you not see that when you have let your mind loose, it
is no longer in your power to recall it, either to propriety, or to
modesty, or to moderation; but you do everything that comes into your
mind in obedience to your inclinations.
First then we ought to have these (rules) in readiness, and to do
nothing without them, and we ought to keep the soul directed to this
mark, to pursue nothing external, and nothing which belongs to others
(or is in the power of others), but to do as he has appointed who has
the power; we ought to pursue altogether the things which are in the
power of the will, and all other things as it is permitted. Next to this
we ought to remember who we are, and what is our name, and to endeavor
to direct our duties towards the character (nature) of our several
relations (in life) in this manner: what is the season for singing, what
is the season for play, and in whose presence; what will be the
consequence of the act; whether our associates will despise us, whether
we shall despise them; when to jeer ([Greek: schopsai]), and whom to
ridicule; and on what occasion to comply and with whom; and finally, in
complying how to maintain our own character. But wherever you have
deviated from any of these rules, there is damage immediately, not from
anything external, but from the action itself.
What then? is it possible to be free from faults (if you do all this)?
It is not possible; but this is possible, to direct your efforts
incessantly to being faultless. For we must be content if by never
remitting this attention we shall escape at least a few errors. But now
when you have said, Tomorrow I will begin to attend, you must be told
that you are saying this, Today I will be shameless, disregardful of
time and place, mean; it will be in the power of others to give me pain;
today I will be passionate and envious. See how many evil things you are
permitting yourself to do. If it is good to use attention tomorrow, how
much better is it to do so today? if tomorrow it is in your interest to
attend, much more is it today, that you may be able to do so tomorrow
also, and may not defer it again to the third day.
* * * * *
AGAINST OR TO THOSE WHO READILY TELL THEIR OWN AFFAIRS.--When a man has
seemed to us to have talked with simplicity (candor) about his own
affairs, how is it that at last we are ourselves also induced to
discover to him our own secrets and we think this to be candid behavior?
In the first place, because it seems unfair for a man to have listened
to the affairs of his neighbor, and not to communicate to him also in
turn our own affairs; next, because we think that we shall not present
to them the appearance of candid men when we are silent about our own
affairs. Indeed, men are often accustomed to say, I have told you all my
affairs, will you tell me nothing of your own? where is this done?
Besides, we have also this opinion that we can safely trust him who has
already told us his own affairs; for the notion rises in our mind that
this man could never divulge our affairs because he would be cautious
that we also should not divulge his. In this way also the incautious are
caught by the soldiers at Rome. A soldier sits by you in a common dress
and begins to speak ill of Caesar; then you, as if you had received a
pledge of his fidelity by his having begun the abuse, utter yourself
also what you think, and then you are carried off in chains.