The Golden Sayings of Epictetus, with the Hymn of Cleanthes
too is but a mortal. While should it come to pass that I offend him,
whither shall I flee from his presence? To the wilderness? And may not
fever await me there? What then is to be done? Cannot a
fellow-traveller be found that is honest and loyal, strong and secure
against surprise? Thus doth the wise man reason, considering that if he
would pass through in safety, he must attach himself unto God.
CXXXVIII
“How understandest thou _attach himself to God?_”
That what God wills, he should will also; that what God wills not,
neither should he will.
“How then may this come to pass?”
By considering the movements of God, and His administration.
CXXXIX
And dost thou that hast received all from another’s hands, repine and
blame the Giver, if He takes anything from thee? Why, who art thou, and
to what end comest thou here? was it not He that made the Light
manifest unto thee, that gave thee fellow-workers, and senses, and the
power to reason? And how brought He thee into the world? Was it not as
one born to die; as one bound to live out his earthly life in some
small tabernacle of flesh; to behold His administration, and for a
little while share with Him in the mighty march of this great Festival
Procession? Now therefore that thou hast beheld, while it was permitted
thee, the Solemn Feast and Assembly, wilt thou not cheerfully depart,
when He summons thee forth, with adoration and thanksgiving for what
thou hast seen and heard?—“Nay, but I would fain have stayed longer at
the Festival.”—Ah, so would the mystics fain have the rites prolonged;
so perchance would the crowd at the Great Games fain behold more
wrestlers still. But the Solemn Assembly is over! Come forth, depart
with thanksgiving and modesty—give place to others that must come into
being even as thyself.
CXL
Why art thou thus insatiable? why thus unreasonable? why encumber the
world?—“Aye, but I fain would have my wife and children with me
too.”—What, are they then _thine_, and not His that gave them—His that
made thee? Give up then that which is not thine own: yield it to One
who is better than thou. “Nay, but why did He bring one into the world
on these conditions?”—If it suits thee not, depart! He hath no need of
a spectator who finds fault with his lot! Them that will take part in
the Feast he needeth—that will lift their voices with the rest that men
may applaud the more, and exalt the Great Assembly in hymns and songs
of praise. But the wretched and the fearful He will not be displeased
to see absent from it: for when they were present, they did not behave
as at a Feast, nor fulfil their proper office; but moaned as though in
pain, and found fault with their fate, their fortune and their
companions; insensible to what had fallen to their lot, insensible to
the powers they had received for a very different purpose—the powers of
Magnanimity, Nobility of Heart, of Fortitude, or Freedom!
CXLI
Art _thou_ then free? a man may say. So help me heaven, I long and pray
for freedom! But I cannot look my masters boldly in the face; I still
value the poor body; I still set much store on its preservation whole
and sound.
But I can point thee out a free man, that thou mayest be no more in
search of an example. Diogenes was free. How so? Not because he was of
free parentage (for that, indeed, was not the case), but because he was
himself free. He had cast away every handle whereby slavery might lay
hold of him to enslave him, nor was it possible for any to approach and
take hold of him to enslave him. All things sat loose upon him—all
things were to him attached by but slender ties. Hadst thou seized upon
his possessions, he would rather have let them go than have followed
thee for them—aye, had it been even a limb, or mayhap his whole body;
and in like manner, relatives, friends, and country. For he knew whence
they came—from whose hands and on what terms he had received them. His
true forefathers, the Gods, his true Country, he never would have
abandoned; nor would he have yielded to any man in obedience and
submission to the one nor in cheerfully dying for the other. For he was
ever mindful that everything that comes to pass has its source and
origin _there;_ being indeed brought about for the weal of that his
true Country, and directed by Him in whose governance it is.
CXLII
Ponder on this—on these convictions, on these words: fix thine eyes on
these examples, if thou wouldst be free, if thou hast thine heart set
upon the matter according to its worth. And what marvel if thou
purchase so great a thing at so great and high a price? For the sake of
this that men deem liberty, some hang themselves, others cast
themselves down from the rock; aye, time has been when whole cities
came utterly to an end: while for the sake of Freedom that is true, and
sure, and unassailable, dost thou grudge to God what He gave, when He
claims it? Wilt thou not study, as Plato saith, to endure, not death
alone, but torture, exile, stripes—in a word, to render up all that is
not thine own? Else thou wilt be a slave amid slaves, wert thou ten
thousand times a consul; aye, not a whit the less, though thou climb
the Palace steps. And thou shalt know how true the saying of Cleanthes,
that though the words of philosophers may run counter to the opinions
of the world, yet have they reason on their side.
CXLIII
Asked how a man should best grieve his enemy, Epictetus replied, “By
setting himself to live the noblest life himself.”
CXLIV
I am free, I am a friend of God, ready to render Him willing obedience.
Of all else I may set store by nothing—neither by mine own body, nor
possessions, nor office, nor good report, nor, in a word, aught else
beside. For it is not His Will, that I should so set store by these
things. Had it been His pleasure, He would have placed my Good therein.
But now He hath not done so: therefore I cannot transgress one jot of
His commands. In everything hold fast to that which is thy Good—but to
all else (as far as is given thee) within the measure of Reason only,
contented with this alone. Else thou wilt meet with failure, ill
success, let and hindrance. These are the Laws ordained of God—these
are His Edicts; these a man should expound and interpret; to these
submit himself, not to the laws of Masurius and Cassius.
CXLV
Remember that not the love of power and wealth sets us under the heel
of others, but even the love of tranquillity, of leisure, of change of
scene—of learning in general, it matters not what the outward thing may
be—to set store by it is to place thyself in subjection to another.
Where is the difference then between desiring to be a Senator, and
desiring not to be one: between thirsting for office and thirsting to
be quit of it? Where is the difference between crying, _Woe is me, I
know not what to do, bound hand and foot as I am to my books so that I
cannot stir!_ and crying, _Woe is me, I have not time to read!_ As
though a book were not as much an outward thing and independent of the
will, as office and power and the receptions of the great.
Or what reason hast thou (tell me) for desiring to read? For if thou
aim at nothing beyond the mere delight of it, or gaining some scrap of
knowledge, thou art but a poor, spiritless knave. But if thou desirest
to study to its proper end, what else is this than a life that flows on
tranquil and serene? And if thy reading secures thee not serenity, what
profits it?—“Nay, but it doth secure it,” quoth he, “and that is why I
repine at being deprived of it.”—And what serenity is this that lies at
the mercy of every passer-by? I say not at the mercy of the Emperor or
Emperor’s favorite, but such as trembles at a raven’s croak and piper’s
din, a fever’s touch or a thousand things of like sort! Whereas the
life serene has no more certain mark than this, that it ever moves with
constant unimpeded flow.
CXLVI
If thou hast put malice and evil speaking from thee, altogether, or in
some degree: if thou hast put away from thee rashness, foulness of
tongue, intemperance, sluggishness: if thou art not moved by what once
moved thee, or in like manner as thou once wert moved—then thou mayest
celebrate a daily festival, to-day because thou hast done well in this
manner, to-morrow in that. How much greater cause is here for offering
sacrifice, than if a man should become Consul or Prefect?
CXLVII
These things hast thou from thyself and from the Gods: only remember
who it is that giveth them—to whom and for what purpose they were
given. Feeding thy soul on thoughts like these, dost thou debate in
what place happiness awaits thee? in what place thou shalt do God’s
pleasure? Are not the Gods nigh unto all places alike; see they not
alike what everywhere comes to pass?
CXLVIII
To each man God hath granted this inward freedom. These are the
principles that in a house create love, in a city concord, among
nations peace, teaching a man gratitude towards God and cheerful
confidence, wherever he may be, in dealing with outward things that he
knows are neither his nor worth striving after.
CXLIX
If you seek Truth, you will not seek to gain a victory by every
possible means; and when you have found Truth, you need not fear being
defeated.
CL
What foolish talk is this? how can I any longer lay claim to right
principles, if I am not content with being what I am, but am all
aflutter about what I am supposed to be?
CLI
God hath made all things in the world, nay, the world itself, free from
hindrance and perfect, and its parts for the use of the whole. No other
creature is capable of comprehending His administration thereof; but
the reasonable being Man possesses faculties for the consideration of
all these things—not only that he is himself a part, but what part he
is, and how it is meet that the parts should give place to the whole.
Nor is this all. Being naturally constituted noble, magnanimous, and
free, he sees that the things which surround him are of two kinds. Some
are free from hindrance and in the power of the will. Other are subject
to hindrance, and depend on the will of other men. If then he place his
own good, his own best interest, only in that which is free from
hindrance and in his power, he will be free, tranquil, happy, unharmed,
noble-hearted, and pious; giving thanks to all things unto God, finding
fault with nothing that comes to pass, laying no charge against
anything. Whereas if he place his good in outward things, depending not
on the will, he must perforce be subject to hindrance and restraint,
the slave of those that have power over the things he desires and
fears; he must perforce be impious, as deeming himself injured at the
hands of God; he must be unjust, as ever prone to claim more than his
due; he must perforce be of a mean and abject spirit.
CLII
Whom then shall I fear? the lords of the Bedchamber, lest they should
shut me out? If they find me desirous of entering in, let them shut me
out, if they will.
“Then why comest thou to the door?”
Because I think it meet and right, so long as the Play lasts, to take
part therein.
“In what sense art thou then shut out?”
Because, unless I am admitted, it is not my _will_ to enter: on the
contrary, my will is simply that which comes to pass. For I esteem what
God wills better than what I will. To Him will I cleave as His minister
and attendant; having the same movements, the same desires, in a word
the same Will as He. There is no such thing as being shut out for me,
but only for them that would force their way in.
CLIII
But what says Socrates?—“One man finds pleasure in improving his land,
another his horses. My pleasure lies in seeing that I myself grow
better day by day.”
CLIV
The dress is suited to the craft; the craftsman takes his name from the