A Selection from the Discourses of Epictetus with the Encheiridion
good man greater than doing what is good and just? At Olympia you wish
for nothing more, but it seems to you enough to be crowned at the
games. Does it seem to you so small and worthless a thing to be good
and happy? For these purposes being introduced by the gods into this
city (the world), and it being now your duty to undertake the work of a
man, do you still want nurses also and a mamma, and do foolish women by
their weeping move you and make you effeminate? Will you thus never
cease to be a foolish child? know you not that he who does the acts of
a child, the older he is, the more ridiculous he is?
So in this matter also: if you kiss your own child, or your brother or
friend, never give full license to the appearance ([Greek:
phantasian]), and allow not your pleasure to go as far as it chooses;
but check it, and curb it as those who stand behind men in their
triumphs and remind them that they are mortal. Do you also remind
yourself in like manner, that he whom you love is mortal, and that what
you love is nothing of your own; it has been given to you for the
present, not that it should not be taken from you, nor has it been
given to you for all time, but as a fig is given to you or a bunch of
grapes at the appointed season of the year. But if you wish for these
things in winter, you are a fool. So if you wish for your son or friend
when it is not allowed to you, you must know that you are wishing for a
fig in winter. For such as winter is to a fig, such is every event
which happens from the universe to the things which are taken away
according to its nature. And further, at the times when you are
delighted with a thing, place before yourself the contrary appearances.
What harm is it while you are kissing your child to say with a lisping
voice: To-morrow you will die; and to a friend also: To-morrow you will
go away or I shall, and never shall we see one another again? But these
are words of bad omen—and some incantations also are of bad omen; but
because they are useful, I don’t care for this; only let them be
useful. But do you call things to be of bad omen except those which are
significant of some evil? Cowardice is a word of bad omen, and meanness
of spirit, and sorrow, and grief, and shamelessness. These words are of
bad omen; and yet we ought not to hesitate to utter them in order to
protect ourselves against the things. Do you tell me that a name which
is significant of any natural thing is of evil omen? say that even for
the ears of corn to be reaped is of bad omen, for it signifies the
destruction of the ears, but not of the world. Say that the falling of
the leaves also is of bad omen, and for the dried fig to take the place
of the green fig, and for raisins to be made from the grapes. For all
these things are changes from a former state into other states; not a
destruction, but a certain fixed economy and administration. Such is
going away from home and a small change: such is death, a greater
change, not from the state which now is to that which is not, but to
that which is not now. Shall I then no longer exist? You will not
exist, but you will be something else, of which the world now has need;
for you also came into existence not when you chose, but when the world
had need of you.
Let these thoughts be ready to hand by night and by day; these you
should write, these you should read; about these you should talk to
yourself and to others. Ask a man: Can you help me at all for this
purpose? and further, go to another and to another. Then if anything
that is said be contrary to your wish, this reflection first will
immediately relieve you, that it is not unexpected. For it is a great
thing in all cases to say: I knew that I begot a son who is mortal. For
so you also will say: I knew that I am mortal, I knew that I may leave
my home, I knew that I may be ejected from it, I knew that I may be led
to prison. Then if you turn round and look to yourself, and seek the
place from which comes that which has happened, you will forthwith
recollect that it comes from the place of things which are out of the
power of the will, and of things which are not my own. What then is it
to me? Then, you will ask, and this is the chief thing: And who is it
that sent it? The leader, or the general, the state, the law of the
state. Give it me then, for I must always obey the law in everything.
Then, when the appearance (of things) pains you, for it is not in your
power to prevent this, contend against it by the aid of reason, conquer
it: do not allow it to gain strength nor to lead you to the
consequences by raising images such as it pleases and as it pleases. If
you be in Gyara, do not imagine the mode of living at Rome, and how
many pleasures there were for him who lived there and how many there
would be for him who returned to Rome; but fix your mind on this
matter, how a man who lives in Gyara ought to live in Gyara like a man
of courage. And if you be in Rome, do not imagine what the life in
Athens is, but think only of the life in Rome.
Then in the place of all other delights substitute this, that of being
conscious that you are obeying God, that not in word, but in deed you
are performing the acts of a wise and good man. For what a thing it is
for a man to be able to say to himself: Now whatever the rest may say
in solemn manner in the schools and may be judged to be saying in a way
contrary to common opinion (or in a strange way), this I am doing; and
they are sitting and are discoursing of my virtues and inquiring about
me and praising me; and of this Zeus has willed that I shall receive
from myself a demonstration, and shall myself know if he has a soldier
such as he ought to have, a citizen such as he ought to have, and if he
has chosen to produce me to the rest of mankind as a witness of the
things which are independent of the will: See that you fear without
reason, that you foolishly desire what you do desire; seek not the good
in things external; seek it in yourselves: if you do not, you will not
find it. For this purpose he leads me at one time hither, at another
time sends me thither, shows me to men as poor, without authority, and
sick; sends me to Gyara, leads me into prison, not because he hates
me—far from him be such a meaning, for who hates the best of his
servants? nor yet because he cares not for me, for he does not neglect
any even of the smallest things; but he does this for the purpose of
exercising me and making use of me as a witness to others. Being
appointed to such a service, do I still care about the place in which I
am, or with whom I am, or what men say about me? and do I not entirely
direct my thoughts to God and to his instructions and commands?
Having these things (or thoughts) always in hand, and exercising them
by yourself, and keeping them in readiness, you will never be in want
of one to comfort you and strengthen you. For it is not shameful to be
without something to eat, but not to have reason sufficient for keeping
away fear and sorrow. But if once you have gained exemption from sorrow
and fear, will there any longer be a tyrant for you, or a tyrant’s
guard, or attendants on Cæsar? Or shall any appointment to offices at
court cause you pain, or shall those who sacrifice in the Capitol on
the occasion of being named to certain functions, cause pain to you who
have received so great authority from Zeus? Only do not make a proud
display of it, nor boast of it; but show it by your acts; and if no man
perceives it, be satisfied that you are yourself in a healthy state and
happy.
TO THOSE WHO FALL OFF (DESIST) FROM THEIR PURPOSE.—Consider as to the
things which you proposed to yourself at first, which you have secured,
and which you have not; and how you are pleased when you recall to
memory the one, and are pained about the other; and if it is possible,
recover the things wherein you failed. For we must not shrink when we
are engaged in the greatest combat, but we must even take blows. For
the combat before us is not in wrestling and the Pancration, in which
both the successful and the unsuccessful may have the greatest merit,
or may have little, and in truth may be very fortunate or very
unfortunate; but the combat is for good fortune and happiness
themselves. Well then, even if we have renounced the contest in this
matter (for good fortune and happiness), no man hinders us from
renewing the combat again, and we are not compelled to wait for another
four years that the games at Olympia may come again; but as soon as you
have recovered and restored yourself, and employ the same zeal, you may
renew the combat again; and if again you renounce it, you may again
renew it; and if you once gain the victory, you are like him who has
never renounced the combat. Only do not through a habit of doing the
same thing (renouncing the combat), begin to do it with pleasure, and
then like a bad athlete go about after being conquered in all the
circuit of the games like quails who have run away.
TO THOSE WHO FEAR WANT.—Are you not ashamed at being more cowardly and
more mean than fugitive slaves? How do they when they run away leave
their masters? on what estates do they depend, and what domestics do
they rely on? Do they not after stealing a little, which is enough for
the first days, then afterwards move on through land or through sea,
contriving one method after another for maintaining their lives? And
what fugitive slave ever died of hunger? But you are afraid lest
necessary things should fail you, and are sleepless by night. Wretch,
are you so blind, and don’t you see the road to which the want of
necessaries leads?—Well, where does it lead?—to the same place to which
a fever leads, or a stone that falls on you, to death. Have you not
often said this yourself to your companions? have you not read much of
this kind, and written much? and how often have you boasted that you
were easy as to death?
Learn then first what are the things which are shameful, and then tell
us that you are a philosopher: but at present do not, even if any other
man calls you so, allow it.
Is that shameful to you which is not your own act, that of which you
are not the cause, that which has come to you by accident, as a
headache, as a fever? If your parents were poor, and left their
property to others, and if while they live, they do not help you at
all, is this shameful to you? Is this what you learned with the
philosophers? Did you never hear that the thing which is shameful ought
to be blamed, and that which is blamable is worthy of blame? Whom do
you blame for an act which is not his own, which he did not do himself?
Did you then make your father such as he is, or is it in your power to
improve him? Is this power given to you? Well then, ought you to wish
the things which are not given to you, or to be ashamed if you do not
obtain them? And have you also been accustomed while you were studying
philosophy to look to others and to hope for nothing from yourself?
Lament then and groan and eat with fear that you may not have food
to-morrow. Tremble about your poor slaves lest they steal, lest they
run away, lest they die. So live, and continue to live, you who in name
only have approached philosophy, and have disgraced its theorems as far
as you can by showing them to be useless and unprofitable to those who
take them up; you, who have never sought constancy, freedom from
perturbation, and from passions; you who have not sought any person for
the sake of this object, but many for the sake of syllogisms; you who
have never thoroughly examined any of these appearances by yourself, Am
I able to bear, or am I not able to bear? What remains for me to do?
But as if all your affairs were well and secure, you have been resting
on the third topic, that of things being unchanged, in order that you