A Selection from the Discourses of Epictetus with the Encheiridion
wherever I go, there is the sun, there is the moon, there are the
stars, dreams, omens, and the conversation ([Greek: omilia]) with gods.
Then, if he is thus prepared, the true Cynic cannot be satisfied with
this; but he must know that he is sent a messenger from Zeus to men
about good and bad things, to show them that they have wandered and are
seeking the substance of good and evil where it is not, but where it
is, they never think; and that he is a spy, as Diogenes was carried off
to Philip after the battle of Chaeroneia as a spy. For in fact a Cynic
is a spy of the things which are good for men and which are evil, and
it is his duty to examine carefully and to come and report truly, and
not to be struck with terror so as to point out as enemies those who
are not enemies, nor in any other way to be perturbed by appearances
nor confounded.
It is his duty then to be able with a loud voice, if the occasion
should arise, and appearing on the tragic stage to say like Socrates:
Men, whither are you hurrying, what are you doing, wretches? like blind
people you are wandering up and down; you are going by another road,
and have left the true road; you seek for prosperity and happiness
where they are not, and if another shows you where they are, you do not
believe him. Why do you seek it without? In the body? It is not there.
If you doubt, look at Myro, look at Ophellius. In possessions? It is
not there. But if you do not believe me, look at Croesus: look at those
who are now rich, with what lamentations their life is filled. In
power? It is not there. If it is, those must be happy who have been
twice and thrice consuls; but they are not. Whom shall we believe in
these matters? You who from without see their affairs and are dazzled
by an appearance, or the men themselves? What do they say? Hear them
when they groan, when they grieve, when on account of these very
consulships and glory and splendor they think that they are more
wretched and in greater danger. Is it in royal power? It is not: if it
were, Nero would have been happy, and Sardanapalus. But neither was
Agamemnon happy, though he was a better man than Sardanapalus and Nero;
but while others are snoring, what is he doing?
Much from his head he tore his rooted hair:
Iliad, x., 15.
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.”
Iliad, x., 91.
Wretch, which of your affairs goes badly? Your possessions? No. Your
body? No. But you are rich in gold and copper. What then is the matter
with you? That part of you, whatever it is, has been neglected by you
and is corrupted, the part with which we desire, with which we avoid,
with which we move towards and move from things. How neglected? He
knows not the nature of good for which he is made by nature and the
nature of evil; and what is his own, and what belongs to another; and
when anything that belongs to others goes badly, he says, Woe to me,
for the Hellenes are in danger. Wretched is his ruling faculty, and
alone neglected and uncared for. The Hellenes are going to die
destroyed by the Trojans. And if the Trojans do not kill them, will
they not die? Yes; but not all at once. What difference then does it
make? For if death is an evil, whether men die altogether, or if they
die singly, it is equally an evil. Is anything else then going to
happen than the separation of the soul and the body? Nothing. And if
the Hellenes perish, is the door closed, and is it not in your power to
die? It is. Why then do you lament (and say), Oh, you are a king and
have the sceptre of Zeus? An unhappy king does not exist more than an
unhappy god. What then art thou? In truth a shepherd: for you weep as
shepherds do, when a wolf has carried off one of their sheep: and these
who are governed by you are sheep. And why did you come hither? Was
your desire in any danger? was your aversion ([Greek: echchlisis])? was
your movement (pursuits)? was your avoidance of things? He replies, No;
but the wife of my brother was carried off. Was it not then a great
gain to be deprived of an adulterous wife? Shall we be despised then by
the Trojans? What kind of people are the Trojans, wise or foolish? If
they are wise, why do you fight with them? If they are fools, why do
you care about them?
Do you possess the body then free or is it in servile condition? We do
not know. Do you not know that it is the slave of fever, of gout,
ophthalmia, dysentery, of a tyrant, of fire, of iron, of everything
which is stronger? Yes, it is a slave. How then is it possible that
anything which belongs to the body can be free from hindrance? and how
is a thing great or valuable which is naturally dead, or earth, or mud?
Well then, do you possess nothing which is free? Perhaps nothing. And
who is able to compel you to assent to that which appears false? No
man. And who can compel you not to assent to that which appears true?
No man. By this then you see that there is something in you naturally
free. But to desire or to be averse from, or to move towards an object
or to move from it, or to prepare yourself, or to propose to do
anything, which of you can do this, unless he has received an
impression of the appearance of that which is profitable or a duty? No
man. You have then in these things also something which is not hindered
and is free. Wretched men, work out this, take care of this, seek for
good here.
THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO BE MOVED BY A DESIRE OF THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE NOT
IN OUR POWER.—Let not that which in another is contrary to nature be an
evil to you; for you are not formed by nature to be depressed with
others nor to be unhappy with others, but to be happy with them. If a
man is unhappy, remember that his unhappiness is his own fault; for God
has made all men to be happy, to be free from perturbations. For this
purpose he has given means to them, some things to each person as his
own, and other things not as his own; some things subject to hindrance
and compulsion and deprivation; and these things are not a man’s own;
but the things which are not subject to hindrances, are his own; and
the nature of good and evil, as it was fit to be done by him who takes
care of us and protects us like a father, he has made our own. But you
say, I have parted from a certain person, and he is grieved. Why did he
consider as his own that which belongs to another? why, when he looked
on you and was rejoiced, did he not also reckon that you are a mortal,
that it is natural for you to part from him for a foreign country?
Therefore he suffers the consequences of his own folly. But why do you
or for what purpose bewail yourself? Is it that you also have not
thought of these things? but like poor women who are good for nothing,
you have enjoyed all things in which you took pleasure, as if you would
always enjoy them, both places and men and conversation; and now you
sit and weep because you do not see the same persons and do not live in
the same places. Indeed you deserve this, to be more wretched than
crows and ravens who have the power of flying where they please and
changing their nests for others, and crossing the seas without
lamenting or regretting their former condition. Yes, but this happens
to them because they are irrational creatures. Was reason then given to
us by the gods for the purpose of unhappiness and misery, that we may
pass our lives in wretchedness and lamentation? Must all persons be
immortal and must no man go abroad, and must we ourselves not go
abroad, but remain rooted like plants; and if any of our familiar
friends goes abroad, must we sit and weep; and on the contrary, when he
returns, must we dance and clap our hands like children?
But my mother laments when she does not see me. Why has she not learned
these principles? and I do not say this, that we should not take care
that she may not lament, but I say that we ought not to desire in every
way what is not our own. And the sorrow of another is another’s sorrow;
but my sorrow is my own. I then will stop my own sorrow by every means,
for it is in my power; and the sorrow of another I will endeavor to
stop as far as I can; but I will not attempt to do it by every means;
for if I do, I shall be fighting against God, I shall be opposing Zeus
and shall be placing myself against him in the administration of the
universe; and the reward (the punishment) of this fighting against God
and of this disobedience not only will the children of my children pay,
but I also shall myself, both by day and by night, startled by dreams,
perturbed, trembling at every piece of news, and having my tranquillity
depending on the letters of others. Some person has arrived from Rome.
I only hope there is no harm. But what harm can happen to you, where
you are not? From Hellas (Greece) some one is come; I hope that there
is no harm. In this way every place may be the cause of misfortune to
you. Is it not enough for you to be unfortunate there where you are,
and must you be so even beyond sea, and by the report of letters? Is
this the way in which your affairs are in a state of security? Well
then suppose that my friends have died in the places which are far from
me. What else have they suffered than that which is the condition of
mortals? Or how are you desirous at the same time to live to old age,
and at the same time not to see the death of any person whom you love?
Know you not that in the course of a long time many and various kinds
of things must happen; that a fever shall overpower one, a robber
another, and a third a tyrant? Such is the condition of things around
us, such are those who live with us in the world; cold and heat, and
unsuitable ways of living, and journeys by land, and voyages by sea,
and winds, and various circumstances which surround us, destroy one
man, and banish another, and throw one upon an embassy and another into
an army. Sit down then in a flutter at all these things, lamenting,
unhappy, unfortunate, dependent on another, and dependent not on one or
two, but on ten thousands upon ten thousands.
Did you hear this when you were with the philosophers? did you learn
this? do you not know that human life is a warfare? that one man must
keep watch, another must go out as a spy, and a third must fight? and
it is not possible that all should be in one place, nor is it better
that it should be so. But you neglecting to do the commands of the
general complain when anything more hard than usual is imposed on you,
and you do not observe what you make the army become as far as it is in
your power; that if all imitate you, no man will dig a trench, no man
will put a rampart round, nor keep watch, nor expose himself to danger,
but will appear to be useless for the purposes of an army. Again, in a
vessel if you go as a sailor, keep to one place and stick to it. And if
you are ordered to climb the mast, refuse; if to run to the head of the
ship, refuse; and what master of a ship will endure you? and will he
not pitch you overboard as a useless thing, an impediment only and bad
example to the other sailors? And so it is here also: every man’s life
is a kind of warfare, and it is long and diversified. You must observe
the duty of a soldier and do every thing at the nod of the general; if
it is possible, divining what his wishes are; for there is no
resemblance between that general and this, neither in strength nor in
superiority of character. Know you not that a good man does nothing for
the sake of appearance, but for the sake of doing right? What advantage
is it then to him to have done right? And what advantage is it to a man
who writes the name of Dion to write it as he ought? The advantage is
to have written it. Is there no reward then? Do you seek a reward for a