The Golden Sayings of Epictetus, with the Hymn of Cleanthes
craft, not from the dress. For this reason Euphrates was right in
saying, “I long endeavoured to conceal my following the philosophic
life; and this profited me much. In the first place, I knew that what I
did aright, I did not for the sake of lookers-on, but for my own. I ate
aright—unto myself; I kept the even tenor of my walk, my glance
composed and serene—all unto myself and unto God. Then as I fought
alone, I was alone in peril. If I did anything amiss or shameful, the
cause of Philosophy was not in me endangered; nor did I wrong the
multitude by transgressing as a professed philosopher. Wherefore those
that knew not my purpose marvelled how it came about, that whilst all
my life and conversation was passed with philosophers without
exception, I was yet none myself. And what harm that the philosopher
should be known by his acts, instead of mere outward signs and
symbols?”
CLV
First study to conceal what thou art; seek wisdom a little while unto
thyself. Thus grows the fruit; first, the seed must be buried in the
earth for a little space; there it must be hid and slowly grow, that it
may reach maturity. But if it produce the ear before the jointed stalk,
it is imperfect—a thing from the garden of Adonis. Such a sorry growth
art thou; thou hast blossomed too soon: the winter cold will wither
thee away!
CLVI
First of all, condemn the life thou art now leading: but when thou hast
condemned it, do not despair of thyself—be not like them of mean
spirit, who once they have yielded, abandon themselves entirely and as
it were allow the torrent to sweep them away. No; learn what the
wrestling masters do. Has the boy fallen? “Rise,” they say, “wrestle
again, till thy strength come to thee.” Even thus should it be with
thee. For know that there is nothing more tractable than the human
soul. It needs but to _will_, and the thing is done; the soul is set
upon the right path: as on the contrary it needs but to nod over the
task, and all is lost. For ruin and recovery alike are from within.
CLVII
It is the critical moment that shows the man. So when the crisis is
upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched
you with a rough and stalwart antagonist.—“To what end?” you ask. That
you may prove the victor at the Great Games. Yet without toil and sweat
this may not be!
CLVIII
If thou wouldst make progress, be content to seem foolish and void of
understanding with respect to outward things. Care not to be thought to
know anything. If any should make account of thee, distrust thyself.
CLIX
Remember that in life thou shouldst order thy conduct as at a banquet.
Has any dish that is being served reached thee? Stretch forth thy hand
and help thyself modestly. Doth it pass thee by? Seek not to detain it.
Has it not yet come? Send not forth thy desire to meet it, but wait
until it reaches thee. Deal thus with children, thus with wife; thus
with office, thus with wealth—and one day thou wilt be meet to share
the Banquets of the Gods. But if thou dost not so much as touch that
which is placed before thee, but despisest it, then shalt thou not only
share the Banquets of the Gods, but their Empire also.
CLX
Remember that thou art an actor in a play, and of such sort as the
Author chooses, whether long or short. If it be his good pleasure to
assign thee the part of a beggar, a ruler, or a simple citizen, thine
it is to play it fitly. For thy business is to act the part assigned
thee, well: to choose it, is another’s.
CLXI
Keep death and exile daily before thine eyes, with all else that men
deem terrible, but more especially Death. Then wilt thou never think a
mean though, nor covet anything beyond measure.
CLXII
As a mark is not set up in order to be missed, so neither is such a
thing as natural evil produced in the World.
CLXIII
Piety toward the Gods, to be sure, consists chiefly in thinking rightly
concerning them—that they _are_, and that they govern the Universe with
goodness and justice; and that thou thyself art appointed to obey them,
and to submit under all circumstances that arise; acquiescing
cheerfully in whatever may happen, sure it is brought to pass and
accomplished by the most Perfect Understanding. Thus thou wilt never
find fault with the Gods, nor charge them with neglecting thee.
CLXIV
Lose no time in setting before you a certain stamp of character and
behaviour both when by yourself and in company with others. Let silence
be your general rule; or say only what is necessary and in few words.
We shall, however, when occasion demands, enter into discourse
sparingly. avoiding common topics as gladiators, horse-races, athletes;
and the perpetual talk about food and drink. Above all avoid speaking
of _persons_, either in way of praise or blame, or comparison.
If you can, win over the conversation of your company to what it should
be by your own. But if you find yourself cut off without escape among
strangers and aliens, be silent.
CLXV
Laughter should not be much, nor frequent, nor unrestrained.
CLXVI
Refuse altogether to take an oath if you can, if not, as far as may be.
CLXVII
Banquets of the unlearned and of them that are without, avoid. But if
you have occasion to take part in them, let not your attention be
relaxed for a moment, lest you slip after all into evil ways. For you
may rest assured that be a man ever so pure himself, he cannot escape
defilement if his associates are impure.
CLXVIII
Take what relates to the body as far as the bare use warrants—as meat,
drink, raiment, house and servants. But all that makes for show and
luxury reject.
CLXIX
If you are told that such an one speaks ill of you, make no defence
against what was said, but answer, He surely knew not my other faults,
else he would not have mentioned these only!
CLXX
When you visit any of those in power, bethink yourself that you will
not find him in: that you may not be admitted: that the door may be
shut in your face: that he may not concern himself about you. If with
all this, it is your duty to go, bear what happens, and never say to
yourself, It was not worth the trouble! For that would smack of the
foolish and unlearned who suffer outward things to touch them.
CLXXI
In company avoid frequent and undue talk about your own actions and
dangers. However pleasant it may be to you to enlarge upon the risks
you have run, others may not find such pleasure in listening to your
adventures. Avoid provoking laughter also: it is a habit from which one
easily slides into the ways of the foolish, and apt to diminish the
respect which your neighbors feel for you. To border on coarse talk is
also dangerous. On such occasions, if a convenient opportunity offer,
rebuke the speaker. If not, at least by relapsing into silence,
colouring, and looking annoyed, show that you are displeased with the
subject.
CLXXII
When you have decided that a thing ought to be done, and are doing it,
never shun being _seen_ doing it, even though the multitude should be
likely to judge the matter amiss. For if you are not acting rightly,
shun the act itself; if rightly, however, why fear misplaced censure?
CLXXIII
It stamps a man of mean capacity to spend much time on the things of
the body, as to be long over bodily exercises, long over eating, long
over drinking, long over other bodily functions. Rather should these
things take the second place, while all your care is directed to the
understanding.
CLXXIV
Everything has two handles, one by which it may be borne, the other by
which it may not. If your brother sin against you lay not hold of it by
the handle of injustice, for by that it may not be borne: but rather by
this, that he is your brother, the comrade of your youth; and thus you
will lay hold on it so that it may be borne.
CLXXV
Never call yourself a Philosopher nor talk much among the unlearned
about Principles, but do that which follows from them. Thus at a
banquet, do not discuss how people ought to eat; but eat as you ought.
Remember that Socrates thus entirely avoided ostentation. Men would
come to him desiring to be recommended to philosophers, and he would
conduct them thither himself—so well did he bear being overlooked.
Accordingly if any talk concerning principles should arise among the
unlearned, be you for the most part silent. For you run great risk of
spewing up what you have ill digested. And when a man tells you that
you know nothing and you are not nettled at it, then you may be sure
that you have begun the work.
CLXXVI
When you have brought yourself to supply the needs of the body at small
cost, do not pique yourself on that, nor if you drink only water, keep
saying on each occasion, _I drink water!_ And if you ever want to
practise endurance and toil, do so unto yourself and not unto others—do
not embrace statues!
CLXXVII
When a man prides himself on being able to understand and interpret the
writings of Chrysippus, say to yourself:—
If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this fellow would have had
nothing to be proud of. But what is it that _I_ desire? To understand
Nature, and to follow her! Accordingly I ask who is the Interpreter. On
hearing that it is Chrysippus, I go to him. But it seems I do not
understand what he wrote. So I seek one to interpret that. So far there
is nothing to pride myself on. But when I have found my interpreter,
what remains is to put in practice his instructions. This itself is the
only thing to be proud of. But if I admire the interpretation and that
alone, what else have I turned out but a mere commentator instead of a
lover of wisdom?—except indeed that I happen to be interpreting
Chrysippus instead of Homer. So when any one says to me, _Prithee, read
me Chrysippus_, I am more inclined to blush, when I cannot show my
deeds to be in harmony and accordance with his sayings.
CLXXVIII
At feasts, remember that you are entertaining two guests, body and
soul. What you give to the body, you presently lose; what you give to
the soul, you keep for ever.
CLXXIX
At meals, see to it that those who serve be not more in number than
those who are served. It is absurd for a crowd of persons to be dancing
attendance on half a dozen chairs.
CLXXX
It is best to share with your attendants what is going forward, both in
the labour of preparation and in the enjoyment of the feast itself. If
such a thing be difficult at the time, recollect that you who are not
weary are being served by those that are; you who are eating and
drinking by those who do neither; you who are talking by those who are
silent; you who are at ease by those who are under constraint. Thus no
sudden wrath will betray you into unreasonable conduct, nor will you
behave harshly by irritating another.
CLXXXI
When Xanthippe was chiding Socrates for making scanty preparation for
entertaining his friends, he answered:—“If they are friends of ours
they will not care for that; if they are not, we shall care nothing for
them!”
CLXXXII
Asked, _Who is the rich man?_ Epictetus replied, “_He who is content_.”
CLXXXIII
Favorinus tells us how Epictetus would also say that there were two
faults far graver and fouler than any others—inability to bear, and
inability to forbear, when we neither patiently bear the blows that
must be borne, nor abstain from the things and the pleasures we ought
to abstain from. “So,” he went on, “if a man will only have these two
words at heart, and heed them carefully by ruling and watching over
himself, he will for the most part fall into no sin, and his life will
be tranquil and serene.” He meant the words [Greek: Anechou kai
apechou]—“Bear and Forbear.”
CLXXXIV
On all occasions these thoughts should be at hand:—
Lead me, O God, and Thou, O Destiny