A Selection from the Discourses of Epictetus with the Encheiridion
Through this kinship with the flesh, some of us inclining to it become
like wolves, faithless and treacherous and mischievous; some become
like lions, savage and bestial and untamed; but the greater part of us
become foxes, and other worse animals. For what else is a slanderer and
malignant man than a fox, or some other more wretched and meaner
animal? See then and take care that you do not become some one of these
miserable things.
OF PROGRESS OR IMPROVEMENT.—He who is making progress, having learned
from philosophers that desire means the desire of good things, and
aversion means aversion from bad things; having learned too that
happiness and tranquillity are not attainable by man otherwise than by
not failing to obtain what he desires, and not falling into that which
he would avoid; such a man takes from himself desire altogether and
confers it, but he employs his aversion only on things which are
dependent on his will. For if he attempts to avoid anything independent
of his will, he knows that sometimes he will fall in with something
which he wishes to avoid, and he will be unhappy. Now if virtue
promises good fortune and tranquillity and happiness, certainly also
the progress towards virtue is progress towards each of these things.
For it is always true that to whatever point the perfecting of anything
leads us, progress is an approach towards this point.
How then do we admit that virtue is such as I have said, and yet seek
progress in other things and make a display of it? What is the product
of virtue? Tranquillity. Who then makes improvement? Is it he who has
read many books of Chrysippus? But does virtue consist in having
understood Chrysippus? If this is so, progress is clearly nothing else
than knowing a great deal of Chrysippus. But now we admit that virtue
produces one thing, and we declare that approaching near to it is
another thing, namely, progress or improvement. Such a person, says
one, is already able to read Chrysippus by himself. Indeed, sir, you
are making great progress. What kind of progress? But why do you mock
the man? Why do you draw him away from the perception of his own
misfortunes? Will you not show him the effect of virtue 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 in aversion, that you
may not be disappointed in your desire, and that you may not fall into
that which you would avoid; in your pursuit and avoiding, that you
commit no error; in assent and suspension of assent, that you be not
deceived. The first things, and the most necessary are those which I
have named. But if with trembling and lamentation you seek not to fall
into that which you avoid, tell me how you are improving.
Do you then show me your improvement in these things? If I were talking
to an athlete, I should say, Show me your shoulders; and then he might
say, Here are my Halteres. You and your Halteres look to that. I should
reply, I wish to see the effect of the Halteres. So, when you say: Take
the treatise on the active powers ([Greek: hormea]), and see how I have
studied it, I reply: Slave, I am not inquiring about this, but how you
exercise pursuit and avoidance, desire and aversion, how you design and
purpose and prepare yourself, whether conformably to nature or not. If
conformably, give me evidence of it, and I will say that you are making
progress; but if not conformably, be gone, and not only expound your
books, but write such books yourself; and what will you gain by it? Do
you not know that the whole book costs only five denarii? Does then the
expounder seem to be worth more than five denarii? Never then look for
the matter itself in one place, and progress towards it in another.
Where then is progress? If any of you, withdrawing himself from
externals, turns to his own will ([Greek: proairesis]) to exercise it
and to improve it by labor, so as to make it conformable to nature,
elevated, free, unrestrained, unimpeded, faithful, modest; and if he
has learned that he who desires or avoids the things which are not in
his power can neither be faithful nor free, but of necessity he must
change with them and be tossed about with them as in a tempest, and of
necessity must subject himself to others who have the power to procure
or prevent what lie desires or would avoid; finally, when he rises in
the morning, if he observes and keeps these rules, bathes as a man of
fidelity, eats as a modest man; in like manner, if in every matter that
occurs he works out his chief principles ([Greek: ta proaegoumena]) as
the runner does with reference to running, and the trainer of the voice
with reference to the voice—this is the man who truly makes progress,
and this is the man who has not travelled in vain. But if he has
strained his efforts to the practice of reading books, and labors only
at this, and has travelled for this, I tell him to return home
immediately, and not to neglect his affairs there; for this for which
he has travelled is nothing. But the other thing is something, to study
how a man can rid his life of lamentation and groaning, and saying, Woe
to me, and wretched that I am, and to rid it also of misfortune and
disappointment, and to learn what death is, and exile, and prison, and
poison, that he may be able to say when he is in fetters, Dear Crito,
if it is the will of the gods that it be so, let it be so; and not to
say, Wretched am I, an old man: have I kept my gray hairs for this? Who
is it that speaks thus? Do you think that I shall name some man of no
repute and of low condition? Does not Priam say this? Does not Oedipus
say this? Nay, all kings say it! For what else is tragedy than the
perturbations ([Greek: pathae]) of men who value externals exhibited in
this kind of poetry? But if a man must learn by fiction that no
external things which are independent of the will concern us, for my
part I should like this fiction, by the aid of which I should live
happily and undisturbed. But you must consider for yourselves what you
wish.
What then does Chrysippus teach us? The reply is, to know that these
things are not false, from which happiness comes and tranquillity
arises. Take my books, and you will learn how true and conformable to
nature are the things which make me free from perturbations. O great
good fortune! O the great benefactor who points out the way! To
Triptolemus all men have erected temples and altars, because he gave us
food by cultivation; but to him who discovered 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 of you for this reason has built an
altar, or a temple, or has dedicated a statue, or who worships God for
this? Because the gods have given the vine, or wheat, we sacrifice to
them; but because they have produced in the human mind that fruit by
which they designed to show us the truth which relates to happiness,
shall we not thank God for this?
AGAINST THE ACADEMICS.—If a man, said Epictetus, opposes evident
truths, it is not easy to find arguments by which we shall make him
change his opinion. But this does not arise either from the man’s
strength or the teacher’s weakness; for when the man, though he has
been confuted, is hardened like 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 to assent to
what is manifest nor to desist from contradictions. Most of us are
afraid of mortification of the body, and would contrive all means to
avoid such a thing, but we care not about the soul’s mortification. And
indeed with regard to the soul, if a man be in such a state as not to
apprehend anything, or understand at all, we think that he is in a bad
condition; but if the sense of shame and modesty are deadened, this we
call even power (or strength).
OF PROVIDENCE.—From everything, which is or happens in the world, it is
easy to praise Providence, if a man possesses these two qualities: the
faculty of seeing what belongs and happens to all persons and things,
and a grateful 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. If
God had made colors, but had not made the faculty of seeing them, what
would have been their use? None at all. On the other hand, if he had
made the faculty of vision, but had not made objects such as to fall
under the faculty, what in that case also would have been the use of
it? None at all. Well, suppose that he had made both, but had not made
light? In that case, also, they would have been of no use. Who is it
then who has fitted this to that and that to this?
What, then, are these things done in us only? Many, indeed, in us only,
of which the rational animal had peculiar need; but you will find many
common to us with irrational animals. Do they then understand what is
done? By no means. For use is one thing, and understanding is another;
God had need of irrational animals to make use of appearances, but of
us to understand the use of appearances. It is therefore enough for
them to eat and to drink, and to copulate, and to do all the other
things which they severally do. But for us, to whom he has given also
the intellectual faculty, these things are not sufficient; for unless
we act in a proper and orderly manner, and conformably to the nature
and constitution of each thing, we shall never attain our true end. For
where the constitutions of living beings are different, there also the
acts and the ends are different. In those animals then whose
constitution is adapted only to use, use alone is enough; but in an
animal (man), which has also the power of understanding the use, unless
there be the due exercise of the understanding, he will never attain
his proper end. Well then God constitutes every animal, one to be
eaten, another to serve for agriculture, another to supply cheese, and
another for some like use; for which purposes what need is there to
understand appearances and to be able to distinguish them? But God has
introduced man to be a spectator 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 begin and to end where irrational animals do; but rather he
ought to begin where they begin, and to end where nature ends in us;
and nature ends in contemplation and understanding, and in a way of
life conformable to nature. Take care then not to die without having
been spectators of these things.
But you take a journey to Olympia to see the work of Phidias, and all
of you think it a misfortune to die without having seen such things.
But when there is no need to take a journey, and where a man is, there
he has the works (of God) before him, will you not desire to see and
understand them? Will you not perceive either what you are, or what you
were born for, or what this is for which you have received the faculty
of sight? But you may say, There are some things disagreeable and
troublesome in life. And are there none at Olympia? Are you not
scorched? Are you not pressed by a crowd? Are you not without
comfortable means of bathing? Are you not wet when it rains? Have you
not abundance of noise, clamor, and other disagreeable things? But I
suppose that setting all these things off against the magnificence of
the spectacle, you bear and endure. Well then and have you not received
faculties by which you will be able to bear all that happens? Have you
not received greatness of soul? Have you not received manliness? Have
you not received endurance? And why do I trouble myself about anything