Discourses

THE wise and good man neither himself fights with any person, nor does he allow another, so far as he can prevent it. And an example of this as well as of all other things is proposed to us in the life of Socrates, who not only himself on all occasions avoided fights (quarrels), but would not allow even others to quarrel. See in Xenophon’s Symposium[*](See ii, 12. 15.) how many quarrels he settled, how further he endured Thrasymachus and Polus and Callicles; how he tolerated his wife, and how he tolerated his son[*](See Xenophon, Memorabilia, ii. 2,) who attempted to confute him and to cavil with him. For he remembered well that no man has in his power another man’s ruling principle. He wished therefore for nothing else than that which was his own. And what is this? Not that this or that man may act according to nature; for that is a thing which belongs to another; but that while others are doing their own acts, as they choose, he may never the less be in a condition conformable to nature and live in it, only doing what is his own to the end that others also may be in a state conformable to nature. For this is the object always set before him by the wise and good man. Is it to be commander (a praetor)[*](The word στρατηγῆσαι may be translated either way.) of an army? No: but if it is permitted him, his object is in this matter to maintain his own ruling principle. Is it to marry? No; but if marriage is allowed to him, in this matter his object is to maintain himself in a condition conformable to nature. But if he would have his son not to do wrong or his wife, he would have what belongs to another not to belong to another: and to be instructed is this, to learn what things are a man’s own and what belongs to another. How then is there left any place for fighting (quarrelling) to a man who has this opinion (which he ought to have)? Is he surprised at any thing which happens,

and does it appear new to him?[*](See iv. 1. 77, and the use of θαυμάζειν.) Does he not expect that which comes from the bad to be worse and more grievous than what actually befals him? And does he not reckon as pure gain whatever they (the bad) may do which falls short of extreme wickedness? Such a person has reviled you. Great thanks to him for not having struck you. But he has struck me also. Great thanks that he did not wound you. But he wounded me also. Great thanks that he did not kill you. For when did he learn or in what school that man is a tame[*](See ii. 10. 14, iv. 1. 120. So Plato says (Legg. vi.), that a man who has had right education is wont to be the most divine and the tamest of animals. Upton. On the doing wrong to another, see Plato’s Critc, and Epictetus iv. 1. 167.) animal, that men love one another, that an act of injustice is a great harm to him who does it. Since then he has not learned this and is not convinced of it, why shall he not follow that which seems to be for his own interest? Your neighbour has thrown stones. Have you then done any thing wrong? But the things in the house have been broken. Are you then a utensil? No; but a free power of will.[*](See iii. 1. 40.) What then is given to you (to do) in answer to this? If you are like a wolf, you must bite in return, and throw more stones. But if you consider what is proper for a man, examine your storehouse, see with what faculties you came into the world. Have you the disposition of a wild beast, have you the disposition of revenge for an injury? When is a horse wretched? When he is deprived of his natural faculties, not when he cannot crow like a cock, but when he cannot run. When is a dog wretched? Not when he cannot fly, but when he cannot track his game. Is then a man also unhappy in this way, not because he cannot strangle lions or embrace statues,[*](Like Hercules and Diogenes See iii. 12. 2.) for he did not come into the world in the possession of certain powers from nature for this purpose, but because he has lost his probity and his fidelity? People ought to meet and lament such a man for the misfortunes into which he has fallen; not indeed to lament because a man has been born or has died,[*](The allusion is to a passage (a fragment) in the Cresphontes of Euripides translated by Cicero into Latin Iambics (Tusc. Disp. i. 48)— ἔδει γὰρ ἡμᾶς σύλλογον ποιουμένουςτὸν φύντα φρηνεῖν εἰς ὅς’ ἔρχεται κάκα.τὸν δ᾽αὖ φανόντα καὶ πόνων πεπαυμένονχαίροντας, εὐφημοῦντας ἐκπέμπειν δόμων. Herodotus (v. 4) says of the Trausi, a Thracian tribe: when a child is born, the relatives sit round it and lament over all the evils which it must suffer on coming into the world and enumerate all the calamities of mankind: but when one dies, they hide him in the earth with rejoicing and pleasure, reckoning all the evils from which he is now released and in possession of all happiness.) but because it has happened to him in his life time to have lost the things which are his own, not that which he received from his father, not his land and house, and his inn,[*](The word is πανδοκεῖον, which Schweig. says that he does not understand. He supposes the word to be corrupt; unless we take it to mean the inn in which a man lives who has no home. I do not understand the word here.) and his slaves; for not one of these things is a man’s own, but all belong to others, are servile, and subject to account (ὑπεύθυνα), at different times given to different persons by those who have them in their power: but I mean the things which belong to him as a man, the marks (stamps) in his mind with which he came into the world, such as we seek also on coins, and if we find them, we approve of the coins, and if we do not find the marks, we reject them. What is the stamp on this Sestertius?[*](See the note of Schweig. on the word τετράσσαρον in the text.) The stamp of Trajan. Present it. It is the stamp of Nero. Throw it away: it cannot be accepted, it is counterfeit.[*](This does not mean, it is said, that Nero issued counterfeit coins, for there are extant many coins of Nero which both in form and in the purity of the metal are complete. A learned numismatist, Francis Wise, fellow of Trinity College Oxford, in a letter to Upton, says that he can discover no reason for Nero’s coins being rejected in commercial dealings after his death except the fact of the tyrant having been declared by the Senate to be an enemy to the Commonwealth. (Suetonius, Nero, c. 49.) When Domitian was murdered, the Senate ordered his busts to be taken down, as the French now do after a revolution, and all memorials of him to be destroyed (Suetonius, Domitian, c. 23). Dion also reports (LX.) that when Caligula was murdered, it was ordered that all the brass coin which bore his image should be melted, and, I suppose, coined again. There is more on this subject in Wise’s letter. I do not believe that genuine coins would be refused in commercial dealings for the reasons which Wise gives, at least not refused in parts distant from Rome. Perhaps Epictetus means that some people would not touch the coins of the detestable Nero.) So also in this case: What is the stamp of his opinions? It is gentleness, a sociable disposition, a tolerant temper, a disposition to mutual affection. Produce these qualities. I accept them: I consider this man a citizen, I accept him as a neighbour, a companion in my voyages. Only see that he has not Nero’s stamp. Is he passionate, is he full of resentment, is he fault-finding? If the whim seizes him, does he break the heads of those who come in his way? (If so), why then did you say that he is a man? Is every thing judged (determined) by the bare form? If that is so, say that the form in wax[*](He says τὸ κήρινον, which Mrs. Carter translates a piece of wax. Perhaps it means a piece of wax in the form of an apple.) is an apple and has the smell and the taste of an apple. But the external figure is not enough: neither then is the nose enough and the eyes to make the man, but he must have the opinions of a man. Here is a man who does not listen to reason, who does not know when he is refuted: he is an ass: in another man the sense of shame is become dead: he is good for nothing, he is any thing rather than a man. This man seeks whom he may meet and kick or bite, so that he is not even a sheep or an ass, but a kind of wild beast.

What then? would you have me to be despised?—By whom? by those who know you? and how shall those who know you despise a man who is gentle and modest? Perhaps you mean by those who do not know you? What is that to you? For no other artisan cares for the opinion of those who know not his art.—But they will be more hostile to me[*](The word is ἐπιφύησονται, the form of which is not Greek. Schweig. has no remark on it, and he translates the word by adorientur. The form ought to be ἐπιφύσονται. See Stephens’ Lexicon on the word ἐπιφύομαι. Probably the word is corrupted.) for this reason.—Why do you say me? Can any man injure your will, or prevent you from using in a natural way the appearances which are presented to

you? In no way can he. Why then are you still disturbed and why do you choose to show yourself afraid?[*](Mrs. Carter renders φοβερόν by formidable, and in the Latin translation it is rendered formidabilem, but that cannot be the meaning of the word here.) And why do you not come forth and proclaim that you are at peace with all men whatever they may do, and laugh at those chiefly who think that they can harm you? These slaves, you can say, know not either who I am, nor where lies my good or my evil, because they have no access to the things which are mine.

In this way also those who occupy a strong city mock the besiegers, (and say): What trouble these men are now taking for nothing: our wall is secure, we have food for a very long time, and all other resources. These are the things which make a city strong and impregnable: but nothing else than his opinions makes a man’s soul impregnable. For what wall is so strong, or what body is so hard, or what possession is so safe, or what honour (rank, character) so free from assault (as a man’s opinions)? All (other) things every where are perishable, easily taken by assault, and if any man in any way is attached to them, he must be disturbed, expect what is bad, he must fear, lament, find his desires disappointed, and fall into things which he would avoid. Then do we not choose to make secure the only means of safety which are offered to us, and do we not choose to withdraw ourselves from that which is perishable and servile and to labour at the things which are imperishable and by nature free; and do we not remember that no man either hurts another or does good to another, but that a man’s opinion about each thing, is that which hurts him, is that which overturns him; this is fighting, this is civil discord, this is war? That which made Eteocles and Polynices[*](Eteocles and Polynices were the sons of the unfortunate Oedipus, who quarrelled about the kingship of Thebes and killed one another This quarrel is the subject of the Seven against Thebes of Aeschylus and the Phoenissae of Euripides. See ii. 22. note 3.) enemies was nothing else than this opinion which they had about royal power, their opinion about exile, that the one is the extreme of evils, the other the greatest good. Now this is the nature of

every man to seek the good, to avoid the bad;[*](Every man in everything he does naturally acts upon the forethought and apprehension of avoiding evil or obtaining good. Bp. Butler, Analogy, Chap. 2. The bishop’s naturally is the φύσις of Epictetus.) to consider him who deprives us of the one and involves us in the other an enemy and treacherous, even if he be a brother, or a son or a father. For nothing is more akin to us than the good: therefore if these things (externals) are good and evil, neither is a father a friend to sons, nor a brother to a brother, but all the world is every where full of enemies, treacherous men, and sycophants. But if the will (προαίρεσις, the purpose, the intention) being what it ought to be, is the only good; and if the will being such as it ought not to be, is the only evil, where is there any strife, where is there reviling? about what? about the things which do not concern us? and strife with whom? with the ignorant, the unhappy, with those who are deceived about the chief things?

Remembering this Socrates managed his own house and endured a very ill tempered wife and a foolish (ungrateful?) son.[*](Socrates’ wife Xanthippe is charged by her eldest son Lamprocles with being so ill-tempered as to be past all endurance (Xenophon, Memorab. ii. 2, 7). Xenophon in this chapter has reported the conversation of Socrates with his son on this matter. Diogenes Laertius (ii.) tells the story of Xanthippe pouring water on the head of Socrates, and dirty water, as Seneca says (De Constantia, c. 18). Aelian (xi. 12) reports that Alcibiades sent Socrates a large and good cake, which Xanthippe trampled under her feet. Socrates only laughed and said, Well then, you will not have your share of it. The philosopher showed that his philosophy was practical by enduring the torment of a very ill-tempered wife, one of the greatest calamities that can happen to a man, and the trouble of an undutiful son.) For in what did she show her bad temper? In pouring water on his head as much as she liked, and in trampling on the cake (sent to Socrates). And what is this to me, if I think that these things are nothing to me? But this is my business; and neither tyrant shall check my will nor a master; nor shall the many check me who am only one, nor shall the stronger check me who am the weaker; for this power of being free from check (hindrance) is given by God to every man. For these opinions make love in a house (family),

concord in a state, among nations peace, and gratitude to God; they make a man in all things cheerful (confident) in externals as about things which belong to others, as about things which are of no value.[*](This is one of the wisest and noblest expressions of Epictetus.) We indeed are able to write and to read these things, and to praise them when they are read, but we do not even come near to being convinced of them. Therefore what is said of the Lacedaemonians, Lions at home, but in Ephesus foxes, will fit in our case also, Lions in the school, but out of it foxes.[*](See Aristophanes, the Peace, v. 1188: πολλὰ γὰρ δὴ μ’ ἠδίκησαν,ὄντες οἴκοι μὲν λέοντες,ἐν μάχῃ δ’ ἀλώπεκες.Upton.)

I am grieved, a man says, at being pitied. Whether then is the fact of your being pitied a thing which concerns you or those who pity you? Well, is it in your power to stop this pity?—It is in my power, if I show them that I do not require pity.—And whether then are you in the condition of not deserving (requiring) pity, or are you not in that condition?—I think that I am not: but these persons do not pity me, for the things for which, if they ought to pity me, it would be proper, I mean, for my faults; but they pity me for my poverty, for not possessing honourable offices, for diseases and deaths and other such things—Whether then are you prepared to convince the many, that not one of these things is an evil, but that it is possible for a man who is poor and has no office (ἀνάρχοντι) and enjoys no honour to be happy; or to shew yourself to them as rich and in power? For the second of these things belong to a man who is boastful, silly and good for nothing. And consider by what means the pretence

must be supported. It will be necessary for you to hire slaves an I to possess a few silver vessels, and to exhibit them in public, if it is possible, though they are often the same, and to attempt to conceal the fact that they are the same, and to have splendid garments, and all other things for display, and to show that you are a man honoured by the great, and to try to sup at their houses, or to be supposed to sup there, and as to your person to employ some mean arts, that you may appear to be more handsome and nobler than you are. These things you must contrive, if you choose to go by the second path in order not to be pitied. But the first way is both impracticable and long, to attempt the very thing which Zeus has not been able to do, to convince all men what things are good and bad.[*](Here it is implied that there are things which God cannot do. Perhaps he means that as God has given man certain powers of will and therefore of action, he cannot at the same time exercise the contradictory powers of forcing man’s will and action; for this would be at the same time to give power and to take it away. Butler remarks (Analogy, chap. 5) the present is so far from proving in event a discipline of virtue to the generality of men that on the contrary they seem to make it a discipline of vice. In fact all men are not convinced and cannot be convinced in the present constitution of things what things are good and bad. ) Is this power given to you? This only is given to you, to convince yourself; and you have not convinced yourself. Then I ask you, do you attempt to persuade other men? and who has lived so long with you as you with yourself? and who has so much power of convincing you as you have of convincing yourself; and who is better disposed and nearer to you than you are to yourself? How then have you not yet convinced yourself in order to learn? At present are not things upside down? Is this what you have been earnest about doing,[*](Something is perhaps wrong in the text here. See Schweig.’s note.) to learn to be free from grief and free from disturbance, and not to be humbled (abject), and to be free? Have you not heard then that there is only one way which leads to this end, to give up (dismiss) the things which do not depend on the will, to withdraw from them, and to admit that they belong to others? For another man then to have an opinion about you, of what kind is it?—It is a thing independent of the will—Then is it nothing to you?—It is nothing—When then you are still vexed at this and disturbed, do you think that you are convinced about good and evil?

Will you not then letting others alone be to yourself both scholar and teacher?—The rest of mankind will look after this, whether it is to their interest to be and to pass their lives in a state contrary to nature: but to me no man is nearer than myself. What then is the meaning of this, that I have listened to the words of the philosophers and I assent to them, but in fact I am no way made easier (more content)? Am I so stupid? And yet in all other things such as I have chosen, I have not been found very stupid; but I learned letters quickly, and to wrestle, and geometry, and to resolve syllogisms. Has not then reason convinced me? and indeed no other things have I from the beginning so approved and chosen (as the things which are rational): and now I read about these things, hear about them, write about them; I have so far discovered no reason stronger than this (living according to nature). In what then am I deficient? Have the contrary opinions not been eradicated from me? Have the notions (opinions) themselves not been exercised nor used to be applied to action, but as armour are laid aside and rusted and cannot fit me? And yet neither in the exercises of the palaestra, nor in writing or reading am I satisfied with learning, but I turn up and down the syllogisms which are proposed, and I make others, and sophistical syllogisms also.[*](In place of μεπαπίπτοντας Schweig. suggests that Arrian wrote καὶ τἄλλα ὡσαύτως or something of the kind. On μεταπίπτοντας see Epictetus, i. 7.) But the necessary theorems by proceeding from which a man can become free from grief, fear, passions (affects), hindrance, and a free man, these I do not exercise myself in nor do I practise in these the proper practice (study). Then I care about what others will say of me, whether I shall appear to them worth notice, whether I shall appear happy.—

Wretched man, will you not see what you are saying about yourself? What do you appear to yourself to be? in your opinions, in your desires, in your aversions from things (ἐν τῷ ἐκκλίνειν), in your movements (purposes, ἐν ὁρμῇ) in your preparation (for anything), in your designs

(plans), and in other acts suitable to a man? But do you trouble yourself about this, whether others pity you? —Yes, but I am pitied not as I ought to be.—Are you then pained at this? and is he who is pained, an object of pity? —Yes—How then are you pitied not as you ought to be? For by the very act that you feel (suffer) about being pitied, you make yourself deserving of pity. What then says Antisthenes? Have you not heard? It is a royal thing, O Cyrus, to do right (well) and to be ill spoken of.[*](M. Antoninus, vii. 36.) My head is sound, and all think that I have the head ache. What do I care for that? I am free from fever, and people sympathize with me as if I had a fever, (and say), Poor man, for so long a time you have not ceased to have fever. I also say with a sorrowful countenance, In truth it is now a long time that I have been ill. What will happen then? As God may please: and at the same time I secretly laugh at those who are pitying me. What then hinders the same being done in this case also? I am poor, but I have a right opinion about poverty. Why then do I care if they pity me for my poverty? I am not in power (not a magistrate); but others are: and I have the opinion which I ought to have about having and not having power. Let them look to it who pity me:[*](ὄψονται. See i. 4, note 4.) but I am neither hungry nor thirsty nor do I suffer cold; but because they are hungry or thirsty they think that I too am. What then shall I do for them? Shall I go about and proclaim and say, Be not mistaken, men, I am very well, I do not trouble myself about poverty, nor want of power, nor in a word about anything else than right opinions. These I have free from restraint, I care for nothing at all.—What foolish talk is this? How do I possess right opinions when I am not content with being what I am, but am uneasy about what I am supposed to be?

But you say, others will get more and be preferred to me—What then is more reasonable than for those who have laboured about any thing to have more in that thing in which they have laboured? They have laboured for power, you have laboured about opinions; and they have laboured for wealth, you for the proper use of appearances.

See if they have more than you in this about which you have laboured, and which they neglect; if they assent better than you with respect to the natural rules (measures) of things; if they are less disappointed than you in their desires; if they fall less into things which they would avoid than you do; if in their intentions, if in the things which they propose to themselves, if in their purposes, if in their motions towards an object they take a better aim; if they better observe a proper behaviour, as men, as sons, as parents, and so on as to the other names by which we express the relations of life. But if they exercise power, and you do not, will you not choose to tell yourself the truth, that you do nothing for the sake of this (power), and they do all? But it is most unreasonable that he who looks after anything should obtain less than he who does not look after it.

Not so: but since I care about right opinions, it is more reasonable for me to have power.—Yes in the matter about which you do care, in opinions. But in a matter in which they have cared more than you, give way to them. The case is just the same as if because you have right opinions, you thought that in using the bow you should hit the mark better than an archer, and in working in metal you should succeed better than a smith. Give up then your earnestness about opinions and employ yourself about the things which you wish to acquire; and then lament, if you do not succeed; for you deserve to lament. But now you say that you are occupied with other things, that you are looking after other things; but the many say this truly, that one act has no community with another.[*](Schweig. says that he has not observed that this proverb is mentioned by any other writer, and that he does not quite see the meaning of it, unless it be what he expresses in the Latin version (iv. 10. 24), alterum opus cum altero nihil commune habet. I think that the context explains it: if you wish to obtain a particular end, employ the proper means, and not the means which do not make for that end.) He who has risen in the morning seeks whom (of the house of Caesar) he shall salute, to whom he shall say something agreeable, to whom he shall send a present, how he shall please the dancing man, how by bad behaviour to one he may please another. When he prays, he prays about

these things; when he sacrifices, he sacrifices for these things: the saying of Pythagoras

Let sleep not come upon thy languid eyes

[*](See iii. i. note 2. Epictetus is making a parody of the verses of Pythagoras. See Schweig.’s remarks on the words He who has risen etc. I have of necessity translated κακοηφισάμενος in an active sense; but if this is right, I do not understand how the word is used so.) he transfers to these things. Where have I failed in the matters pertaining to flattery? What have I done? Any thing like a free man, any thing like a noble minded man? And if he finds any thing of the kind, he blames and accuses himself: Why did you say this? Was it not in your power to lie? Even the philosophers say that nothing hinders us from telling a lie. But do you, if indeed you have cared about nothing else except the proper use of appearances, as soon as you have risen in the morning reflect, What do I want in order to be free from passion (affects), and free from perturbation? What am I? Am I a poor body, a piece of property, a thing of which something is said? 1 am none of these. But what am I? I am a rational animal. What then is required of me? Reflect on your acts. Where have I omitted the things which conduce to happiness (εὔροιαν)? What have I done which is either unfriendly or unsocial? what have I not done as to these things which I ought to have done?

So great then being the difference in desires, actions, wishes, would you still have the same share with others in those things about which you have not laboured, and they have laboured? Then are you surprised if they pity you, and are you vexed? But they are not vexed if you pity them. Why? Because they are convinced that they have that which is good, and you are not convinced. For this reason you are not satisfied with your own, but you desire that which they have: but they are satisfied with their own, and do not desire what you have: since if you were really convinced, that with respect to what is good, it is you who are the possessor of it and that they have missed it, you would not even have thought of what they say about you.

WHAT makes the tyrant formidable? The guards, you say, and their swords, and the men of the bedchamber and those who exclude them who would enter. Why then if you bring a boy (child) to the tyrant when he is with his guards, is he not afraid; or is it because the child does not understand these things? If then any man does understand what guards are and that they have swords, and comes to the tyrant for this very purpose because he wishes to die on account of some circumstance and seeks to die easily by the hand of another, is he afraid of the guards? No, for he wishes for the thing which makes the guards formidable. If then any man neither wishing to die nor to live by all means, but only as it may be permitted, approaches the tyrant, what hinders him from approaching the tyrant without fear? Nothing. If then a man has the same opinion about his property as the man whom I have instanced has about his body; and also about his children and his wife: and in a word is so affected by some madness or despair that he cares not whether he possesses them or not, but like children who are playing with shells care (quarrel) about the play, but do not trouble themselves about the shells, so he too has set no value on the materials (things), but values the pleasure that he has with them and the occupation, what tyrant is then formidable to him or what guards or what swords?

Then through madness is it possible for a man to be so disposed towards these things, and the Galilaeans through habit,[*](See Schweig.’s note on the text. By the Galilaeans it is probable that Epictetus means the Christians, whose obstinacy Antoninus also mentions (xi. 3). Epictetus, a contemporary of St. Paul, knew little about the Christians, and only knew some examples of their obstinate adherence to the new faith and the fanatical behaviour of some of the converts. That there were wild fanatics among the early Christians is proved on undoubted authority; and also that there always have been such, and now are such. The abuse of any doctrines or religious opinions is indeed no argument against such doctrines or religious opinions; and it is a fact quite consistent with experience that the best things are liable to be perverted, misunderstood, and misused.) and is it possible that no man can learn from reason

and from demonstration that God has made all the things in the universe and the universe itself completely free from hindrance and perfect, and the parts of it for the use of the whole? All other animals indeed are incapable of comprehending the administration of it; but the rational animal man has faculties for the consideration of all these things, and for understanding that it is a part, and what kind of a part it is, and that it is right for the parts to be subordinate to the whole. And besides this being naturally noble, magnanimous and free, man sees that of the things which surround him some are free from hindrance and in his power, and the other things are subject to hindrance and in the power of others; that the things which are free from hindrance are in the power of the will; and those which are subject to hindrance are the things which are not in the power of the will. And for this reason if he thinks that his good and his interest be in these things only which are free from hindrance and in his own power, he will be free, prosperous, happy, free from harm, magnanimous, pious, thankful to God[*](This agrees with Eph. v. 20: Giving thanks always for all things to God. Mrs. Carter. The words are the same in both except that the Apostle has εὐχαριστοῦντες, and Epictetus has χάριυ ἔχον.) for all things; in no matter finding fault with any of the things which have not been put in his power, nor blaming any of them.[*](See Schweig.’s note.) But if he thinks that his good and his interest are in externals and in things which are not in the power of his will, he must of necessity be hindered, be impeded, be a slave to those who have the power over the things which he admires (desires) and fears; and he must of necessity be impious because he thinks that he is harmed by God, and he must be unjust because he always claims more than belongs to him; and he must of necessity be abject and mean.

What hinders a man, who has clearly separated (comprehended) these things, from living with a light heart and bearing easily the reins, quietly expecting every thing which can happen, and enduring that which has already happened? Would you have me to bear poverty? Come and you will know what poverty is when it has found one who can act well the part of a poor man. Would you

have me to possess power? Let me have power, and also the trouble of it. Well, banishment? Wherever I shall go, there it will be well with me; for here also where I am, it was not because of the place that it was well with me, but because of my opinions which I shall carry off with me: for neither can any man deprive me of them; but my opinions alone are mine and they cannot be taken from me, and I am satisfied while I have them, wherever I may be and whatever I am doing. But now it is time to die. Why do you say to die? Make no tragedy show of the thing, but speak of it as it is: it is now time for the matter (of the body) to be resolved into the things out of which it was composed. And what is the formidable thing here? what is going to perish of the things which are in the universe?[*](He says that the body will be resolved into the things of which it is composed: none of them will perish. The soul, as he has said elsewhere, will go to him who gave it (iii. 13. note 4). But I do not suppose that he means that the soul will exist as having a separate consciousness.) what new thing or wondrous is going to happen? Is it for this reason that a tyrant is formidable? Is it for this reason that the guards appear to have swords which are large and sharp? Say this to others; but I have considered about all these things; no man has power over me. I have been made free; I know his commands, no man can now lead me as a slave. I have a proper person to assert my freedom;[*](καρπιστήν, see iv. 1. 113.) I have proper judges. (I say) are you not the master of my body? What then is that to me? Are you not the master of my property? What then is that to me? Are you not the master of my exile or of my chains? Well, from all these things and all the poor body itself I depart at your bidding, when you please. Make trial of your power, and you will know how far it reaches.

Whom then can I still fear? Those who are over the bedchamber?[*](See i. 19. note 6.) Lest they should do, what? Shut me out? If they find that I wish to enter, let them shut me out. Why then do you go to the doors? Because I think it befits me, while the play (sport) lasts, to join in it. How then are you not shut out? Because unless some

one allows me to go in, I do not choose to go in, but am always content with that which happens; for I think that what God chooses is better than what I choose.[*](Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt,, Matthew xxvi. 39. Mrs. Carter. Our resignation to the will of God may be said to be perfect, when our will is lost and resolved up into his; when we rest in his will as our end, as being itself most just and right and good. Bp. Butler, Sermon on the Love of God.) I will attach myself as a minister and follower to him; I have the same movements (pursuits) as he has, I have the same desires; in a word, I have the same will (συνφέλω). There is no shutting out for me, but for those who would force their way in. Why then do not I force my way in? Because I know that nothing good is distributed within to those who enter. But when I hear any man called fortunate because he is honoured by Caesar, I say, what does he happen to get? A province (the government of a province). Does he also obtain an opinion such as he ought? The office of a Prefect. Does he also obtain the power of using his office well? Why do I still strive to enter (Caesar’s chamber)? A man scatters dried figs and nuts: the children seize them, and fight with one another; men do not, for they think them to be a small matter. But if a man should throw about shells, even the children do not seize them. Provinces are distributed: let children look to that. Money is distributed: let children look to that. Praetorships, consulships are distributed: let children scramble for them, let them be shut out, beaten, kiss the hands of the giver, of the slaves: but to me these are only dried figs and nuts. What then? If you fail to get them, while Caesar is scattering them about, do not be troubled: if a dried fig come into your lap, take it and eat it; for so far you may value even a fig. But if I shall stoop down and turn another over, or be turned over by another, and shall flatter those who have got into (Caesar’s) chamber, neither is a dried fig worth the trouble, nor any thing else of the things which are not good, which the philosophers have persuaded me not to think good.

Show me the swords of the guards. See how big they are, and how sharp. What then do these big and sharp

swords do? They kill. And what does a fever do? Nothing else. And what else a (falling) tile? Nothing else. Would you then have me to wonder at these things and worship them, and go about as the slave of all of them? I hope that this will not happen: but when I have once learned that every thing which has come into existence must also go out of it, that the universe may not stand still nor be impeded, I no longer consider it any difference whether a fever shall do it or a tile, or a soldier. But if a man must make a comparison between these things, I know that the soldier will do it with less trouble (to me), and quicker. When then I neither fear any thing which a tyrant can do to me, nor desire any thing which he can give, why do I still look on with wonder (admiration)? Why am I still confounded? Why do I fear the guards? Why am I pleased if he speaks to me in a friendly way, and receives me, and why do I tell others how he spoke to me? Is he a Socrates, is he a Diogenes that his praise should be a proof of what I am? Have I been eager to imitate his morals? But I keep up the play and go to him, and serve him so long as he does not bid me to do any thing foolish or unreasonable. But if he says to me, Go and bring Leon[*](See iv. 1. note 59.) of Salamis, I say to him, Seek another, for I am no longer playing. (The tyrant says): Lead him away (to prison). I follow; that is part of the play. But your head will be taken off—Does the tyrant’s head always remain where it is, and the heads of you who obey him?—But you will be cast out unburied?—If the corpse is I, I shall be cast out; but if I am different from the corpse, speak more properly according as the fact is, and do not think of frightening me. These things are formidable to children and fools. But if any man has once entered a philosopher’s school and knows not what he is, he deserves to be full of fear and to flatter those whom afterwards[*](I do not see the meaning of ὕστερον: it may perhaps mean after leaving the school. See Schweig.’s note.) he used to flatter; (and) if he has not yet learned that he is not flesh nor bones nor sinews (νεῦρα), but he is that which makes use of these parts of the body and governs there and follows (understands) the appearances of things.[*](Here Epictetus admits that there is some power in man which uses the body, directs and governs it. He does not say what the power is nor what he supposes it to be. Upon the whole then our organs of sense and our limbs are certainly instruments, which the living persons, ourselves, make use of to perceive and move with. Butler’s Analogy, chap. i.)

Yes, but this talk makes us despise the laws—And what kind of talk makes men more obedient to the laws who employ such talk? And the things which are in the power of a fool are not law.[*](The will of a fool does not make law, he says. Unfortunately it does, if we use the word law in the strict sense of law: for law is a general command from a person, an absolute king, for example, who has power to enforce it on those to whom the command is addressed or if not to enforce it, to punish for disobedience to it. This strict use of the word law is independent of the quality of the command, which may be wise or foolish, good or bad. But Epictetus does not use the word law in the strict sense.) And yet see how this talk makes us disposed as we ought to be even to these men (fools); since it teaches us to claim in opposition to them none of the things in which they are able to surpass us. This talk teaches us as to the body to give it up, as to property to give that up also, as to children, parents, brothers, to retire from these, to give up all; it only makes an exception of the opinions, which even Zeus has willed to be the select property of every man. What transgression of the laws is there here, what folly? Where you are superior and stronger, there I gave way to you: on the other hand, where I am superior, do you yield to me; for I have studied (cared for) this, and you have not. It is your study to live in houses with floors formed of various stones,[*](The word is λιφοστρώτοις, which means what we name Mosaic floors or pavements. The word λιφόστρωτον is used by John xix. 13, and rendered in our version by pavement. ) how your slaves and dependents shall serve you, how you shall wear fine clothing, have many hunting men, lute players, and tragic actors. Do I claim any of these? have you made any study of opinions, and of your own rational faculty? Do you know of what parts it is composed, how they are brought together, how

they are connected, what powers it has, and of what kind? Why then are you vexed, if another who has made it his study, has the advantage over you in these things? But these things are the greatest. And who hinders you from being employed about these things and looking after them? And who has a better stock of books, of leisure, of persons to aid you? Only turn your mind at last to these things, attend, if it be only a short time, to your own ruling faculty[*](This term (τὸ ἡγεμονικόν) has been often used by Epictetus (i. 26. 15. etc), and by M. Antoninus. Here Epictetus gives a definition or description of it: it is the faculty by which we reflect and judge and determine, a faculty which no other animal has, a faculty which in many men is neglected, and weak because it is neglected; but still it ought to be what its constitution forms it to be, a faculty which plainly bears upon it marks of authority over all the rest, and claims the absolute direction of them all, to allow or forbid their gratification (Bp. Butler, Preface to his Sermons). The words in the text (ἐκλεγόμενον, ἀπεκλεγόμενον, selection and rejection) are expressed by Cicero (De Fin. ix. ii. 11) by eligere and rejicere.) (ἡγεμονικόν): consider what this is that you possess, and whence it came, this which uses all other (faculties), and tries them, and selects and rejects. But so long as you employ yourself about externals you will possess them (externals) as no man else does; but you will have this (the ruling faculty) such as you choose to have it, sordid and neglected.

NEVER praise nor blame a man because of the things which are common (to all, or to most),[*](See iv. 4. 44.) and do not ascribe to him any skill or want of skill; and thus you will be free from rashness and from malevolence. This man bathes very quickly. Does he then do wrong? Certainly not. But what does he do? He bathes very

quickly. Are all things then done well? By no means: but the acts which proceed from right opinions are done well; and those which proceed from bad opinions are done ill. But do you, until you know the opinion from which a man does each thing, neither praise nor blame the act. But the opinion is not easily discovered from the external things (acts). This man is a carpenter. Why? Because he uses an axe. What then is this to the matter? This man is a musician because he sings. And what does that signify? This man is a philosopher. Because he wears a cloak and long hair. And what does a juggler wear? For this reason if a man sees any philosopher acting indecently, immediately he says, See what the philosopher is doing; but he ought because of the man’s indecent behaviour rather to say that he is not a philosopher. For if this is the preconceived notion (πρόληψις) of a philosopher and what he professes, to wear a cloak and long hair, men would say well; but if what he professes is this rather, to keep himself free from faults, why do we not rather, because he does not make good his professions, take from him the name of philosopher? For so we do in the case of all other arts. When a man sees another handling an axe badly, he does not say, what is the use of the carpenter’s art? See how badly carpenters do their work; but he says just the contrary, This man is not a carpenter, for he uses an axe badly. In the same way if a man hears another singing badly, he does not say, See how musicians sing; but rather, This man is not a musician. But it is in the matter of philosophy only that people do this. When they see a man acting contrary to the profession of a philosopher, they do not take away his title, but they assume him to be a philosopher, and from his acts deriving the fact that he is behaving indecently they conclude that there is no use in philosophy.

What then is the reason of this? Because we attach value to the notion (πρόληψιν) of a carpenter, and to that of a musician, and to the notion of other artisans in like manner, but not to that of a philosopher, and we judge from externals only that it is a thing confused and ill defined. And what other kind of art has a name from the

dress and the hair; and has not both theorems and a material and an end? What then is the material (matter) of the philosopher? Is it a cloak? No, but reason. What is his end? is it to wear a cloak? No, but to possess the reason in a right state. Of what kind are his theorems? Are they those about the way in which the beard becomes great or the hair long? No, but rather what Zeno says, to know the elements of reason, what kind of a thing each of them is, and how they are fitted to one another, and what things are consequent upon them. Will you not then see first if he does what he professes when he acts in an unbecoming manner, and then blame his study (pursuit)? But now when you yourself are acting in a sober way, you say in consequence of what he seems to you to be doing wrong, Look at the philosopher, as if it were proper to call by the name of philosopher one who does these things; and further, This is the conduct of a philosopher. But you do not say, Look at the carpenter, when you know that a carpenter is an adulterer or you see him to be a glutton; nor do you say, See the musician. Thus to a certain degree even you perceive (understand) the profession of a philosopher, but you fall away from the notion, and you are confused through want of care.

But even the philosophers themselves as they are called pursue the thing (philosophy) by beginning with things which are common to them and others: as soon as they have assumed a cloak and grown a beard, they say, I am a philosopher.[*](Compare Horace, Ep. i 19, 12 etc.Quid, si quis vultu torvo ferus et pede nudoExiguaeque togae simulet textore Catonem,Virtutemne reprs aentet moresque Catonis?) But no man will say, I am a musician, if he has bought a plectrum (fiddlestick) and a lute: nor will he say, I am a smith, if he has put on a cap and apron. But the dress is fitted to the art; and they take their name from the art, and not from the dress. For this reason Euphrates[*](See iii. 15. 8) used to say well, A long time I strove to be a philosopher without people knowing it; and this, he said, was useful to me: for first I knew that when I did any thing well, I did not do it

for the sake of the spectators, but for the sake of myself: I ate well for the sake of myself; I had my countenance well composed and my walk: all for myself and for God. Then, as I struggled alone, so I alone also was in danger: in no respect through me, if I did anything base or unbecoming, was philosophy endangered; nor did I injure the many by doing any thing wrong as a philosopher. For this reason those who did not know my purpose used to wonder how it was that while I conversed and lived altogether with all philosophers, I was not a philosopher myself. And what was the harm for me to be known to be a philosopher by my acts and not by outward marks?[*](Yea a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works, Epistle of James, ii. 18. So a moral philosopher may say, I show my principles, not by what I profess, but by that which I do.) See how I eat, how I drink, how I sleep, how I bear and forbear, how I co-operate, how I employ desire, how I employ aversion (turning from things), how I maintain the relations (to things) those which are natural or those which are acquired, how free from confusion, how free from hindrance. Judge of me from this, if you can. But if you are so deaf and blind that you cannot conceive even Hephaestus[*](See the statues of Hephaestus, Montfaucon, Antiq. vol. i. lib. iii. c. 1. Upton.) to be a good smith, unless you see the cap on his head, what is the harm in not being recognized by so foolish a judge?

So Socrates was not known to be a philosopher by most persons; and they used to come to him and ask to be introduced to philosophers. Was he vexed then as we are, and did he say, And do you not think that I am a philosopher? No, but he would take them and introduce them, being satisfied with one thing, with being a philosopher; and being pleased also with not being thought to be a philosopher, he was not annoyed: for he thought of his own occupation. What is the work of an honourable and good man? To have many pupils? By no means. They will look to this matter who are earnest about it. But was it his business to examine carefully difficult theorems? Others will look after these matters also, In what then

was he,[*](In what then was he seems to mean in what did he employ himself?) and who was he and whom did he wish to be? He was in that (employed in that) wherein there was hurt (damage) and advantage. If any man can damage me, he says, I am doing nothing: if I am waiting for another man to do me good, I am nothing. If I wish for any thing, and it does not happen, I am unfortunate. To such a contest he invited every man, and I do not think that he would have declined the contest with any one.[*](The text of Schweighaeuser is οὐκ ἂν μοι δοκῇ ἐκστῆναι οὐδενί. he says temere οὐκ ἂν μοι δοκεῖ ed. Bas. et seqq. But δοκεῖ is right.) What do you suppose? was it by proclaiming and saying, I am such a man? Far from it, but by being such a man. For further, this is the character of a fool and a boaster to say, I am free from passions and disturbance: do not be ignorant, my friends, that while you are uneasy and disturbed about things of no value, I alone am free from all perturbation. So is it not enough for you to feel no pain, unless you make this proclamation: Come together all who are suffering gout, pains in the head, fever, ye who are lame, blind, and observe that I am sound (free) from every ailment—This is empty and disagreeable to hear, unless like Aesculapius you are able to show immediately by what kind of treatment they also shall be immediately free from disease, and unless you show your own health as an example.

For such is the Cynic who is honoured with the sceptre and the diadem by Zeus, and says, That you may see, O men, that you seek happiness and tranquillity not where it is, but where it is not, behold I am sent to you by God as an example,[*](Compare iii. c. 22.) I who have neither property nor house, nor wife nor children, not even a bed, nor coat nor household utensil; and see how healthy 1 am: try me, and if you see that I am free from perturbations, hear the remedies and how I have been cured (treated). This is both philanthropic and noble. But see whose work it is, the work of Zeus, or of him whom he may judge worthy of this service, that he may never exhibit any thing to the many, by which he shall make of no effect his own

testimony,—whereby he gives testimony to virtue, and bears evidence against external things:

His beauteous face pales not, nor from his cheeks He wipes a tear.

—Odyssey, xi. 528 And not this only, but he neither desires nor seeks any thing, nor man nor place nor amusement, as children seek the vintage or holidays; always fortified by modesty as others are fortified by walls and doors and doorkeepers.

But now (these men) being only moved to philosophy, as those who have a bad stomach are moved to some kinds of food which they soon loathe, straightway (rush) towards the sceptre and to the royal power. They let the hair grow, they assume the cloak, they show the shoulder bare, they quarrel with those whom they meet; and if they see a man in a thick winter coat,[*](The word is φαινόλη, which seems to be the Latin paenula. ) they quarrel with him. Man, first exercise yourself in winter weather: see your movements (inclinations) that they are not those of a man with a bad stomach or those of a longing woman. First strive that it be not known what you are: be a philosopher to yourself (or, philosophize to yourself) a short time. Fruit grows thus: the seed must be buried for some time, hid, grow slowly in order that it may come to perfection. But if it produces the ear before the jointed stem, it is imperfect, a produce of the garden of Adonis.[*](The gardens of Adonis are things growing in earthen vessels, carried about for show only, not for use. The gardens of Adonis is a proverbial expression applied to things of no value, to plants, for instance, which last only a short time, have no roots, and soon wither. Much things, we may suppose, were exhibited at the festivals of Adonis. Schweig.’s note.) Such a poor plant are you also: you have blossomed too soon; the cold weather will scorch you up. See what the husbandmen say about seeds when there is warm weather too early. They are afraid lest the seeds should be too luxuriant, and then a single frost should lay hold of them and show that they are too forward. Do you also consider, my man: you have shot out too soon, you have hurried towards a little fame before the proper

season: you think that you are something, a fool among fools: you will be caught by the frost, and rather you have been frost-bitten in the root below, but your upper parts still blossom a little, and for this reason you think that you are still alive and flourishing. Allow us to ripen in the natural way: why do you bare (expose) us? why do you force us? we are not yet able to bear the air. Let the root grow, then acquire the first joint, then the second, and then the third: in this way then the fruit will naturally force itself out,[*](See Schweig.’s note.) even if I do not choose. For who that is pregnant and filled with such great principles does not also perceive his own powers and move towards the corresponding acts? A bull is not ignorant of his own nature and his powers, when a wild beast shows itself, nor does he wait for one to urge him on; nor a dog when he sees a wild animal. But if I have the powers of a good man, shall I wait for you to prepare me for my own (proper) acts? At present I have them not, believe me. Why then do you wish me to be withered up before the time, as you have been withered up?

[*](They, who are desirous of taking refuge in Heathenism from the strictness of the Christian morality, will find no great consolation in reading this chapter of Epictetus. Mrs. Carter.)

WHEN you see another man in the possession of power (magistracy), set against this the fact that you have not the want (desire) of power; when you see another rich, see what you possess in place of riches: for if you possess nothing in place of them, you are miserable; but if you have not the want of riches, know that you possess more than this man possesses and what is worth much more. Another man possesses a handsome woman (wife): you

have the satisfaction of not desiring a handsome wife. Do these things appear to you to be small? And how much would these persons give, these very men who are rich, and in possession of power, and live with handsome women, to be able to despise riches, and power and these very women whom they love and enjoy? Do you not know then what is the thirst of a man who has a fever? He possesses that which is in no degree like the thirst of a man who is in health: for the man who is in health ceases to be thirsty after he has drunk; but the sick man being pleased for a short time has a nausea, he converts the drink into bile, vomits, is griped, and more thirsty. It is such a thing to have desire of riches and to possess riches, desire of power and to possess power, desire of a beautiful woman and to sleep with her: to this is added jealousy, fear of being deprived of the thing which you love, indecent words, indecent thoughts, unseemly acts.

And what do I lose? you will say. My man, you were modest, and you are so no longer. Have you lost nothing? In place of Chrysippus and Zeno you read Aristides and Evenus;[*](Aristides was a Greek, but his period is not known. He was the author of a work named Milesiaca or Milesian stories. All that we know of the work is that it was of a loose description, amatory and licentious. It was translated into Latin by L. Cornelius Sisenna, a contemporary of the Dictator Sulla; and it is mentioned by Plutarch (Life of Crassus, c. 32), and several times by Ovid (Tristia ii. 413 etc.). Evenus was perhaps a poet. We know nothing of this Evenus, but we may conjecture from being here associated with Aristides what his character was.) have you lost nothing? In place of Socrates and Diogenes, you admire him who is able to corrupt and seduce most women. You wish to appear handsome and try to make yourself so, though you are not. You like to display splendid clothes that you may attract women; and if you find any fine oil (for the hair),[*](See Schweig.’s note on the word μυραλειφίον, which he has in his text. It should be μυραλοιφίον, if the word exists.) you imagine that you are happy. But formerly you did not think of any such thing, but only where there should be decent talk, a worthy man, and a generous conception. Therefore you slept like a man, walked forth like a man, wore a manly dress, and used to talk in a way becoming a good

man; then do you say to me, I have lost nothing? So do men lose nothing more than coin? Is not modesty lost? Is not decent behaviour lost? is it that he who has lost these things has sustained no loss? Perhaps you think that not one of these things is a loss. But there was a time when you reckoned this the only loss and damage, and you were anxious that no man should disturb you from these (good) words and actions.

Observe, you are disturbed from these good words and actions by nobody, but by yourself. Fight with yourself, restore yourself to decency, to modesty, to liberty. If any man ever told you this about me, that a person forces me to be an adulterer, to wear such a dress as yours, to perfume myself with oils, would you not have gone and with your own hand have killed the man who thus calumniated me? Now will you not help yourself? and how much easier is this help? There is no need to kill any man, nor to put him in chains, nor to treat him with contumely nor to enter the Forum (go to the courts of law), but it is only necessary for you to speak to yourself who will be most easily persuaded, with whom no man has more power of persuasion than yourself. First of all, condemn what you are doing, and then when you have condemned it, do not despair of yourself, and be not in the condition of those men of mean spirit, who, when they have once given in, surrender themselves completely and are carried away as if by a torrent. But see what the trainers of boys do. Has the boy fallen? Rise, they say, wrestle again till you are made strong. Do you also do something of the same kind: for be well assured that nothing is more tractable than the human soul. You must exercise the Will,[*](The orginal is φελῆσαι δεῖ. Seneca (Ep. 80):Quid tibi opus est ut sis bonus? Velle. Upton. The power of the Will is a fundamental principle with Epictetus. The will is strong in some, but very feeble in others; and sometimes, as experience seems to show, it is incapable of resisting the power of old habits.)and the thing is done, it is set right: as on the other hand, only fall a nodding (be careless), and the thing is lost: for from within comes ruin and from within comes help. Then (you say) what good do I gain? And

what greater good do you seek than this?[*](Virtue is its own reward, said the Stoics. This is the meaning of Epictetus, and it is consistent with his principles that a man should live conformably to his nature, and so he will have all the happiness of which human nature is capable. Mrs. Carter has a note here, which I do not copy, and I hardly understand. It seems to refer to the Christian doctrine of a man being rewarded in a future life according to his works: but we have no evidence that Epictetus believed in a future life, and he therefore could not go further than to maintain that virtuous behaviour is the best thing in this short life, and will give a man the happiness which he can obtain in no other way.) From a shameless man you will become a modest man, from a disorderly you will become an orderly man, from a faithless you will become a faithful man, from a man of unbridled habits a sober man. If you seek any thing more than this, go on doing what you are doing: not even a God can now help you.

THE difficulties of all men are about external things, their helplessness is about externals. What shall I do, how will it be, how will it turn out, will this happen, will that? All these are the words of those who are turning themselves to things which are not within the power of the will. For who says, How shall I not assent to that which is false? how shall I not turn away from the truth? If a man be of such a good disposition as to be anxious about these things, I will remind him of this, Why are you anxious? The thing is in your own power: be assured: do not be precipitate in assenting before you apply the natural rule. On the other side, if a man is anxious (uneasy) about desire, lest it fail in its purpose and miss its end, and with respect to the avoidance of things, lest he should fall into that which he would avoid, I will first kiss (love) him, because he throws away the things about which others are in a flutter (others

desire) and their fears, and employs his thoughts about his own affairs and his own condition. Then I shall say to him, if you do not choose to desire that which you will fail to obtain nor to attempt to avoid that into which you will fall, desire nothing which belongs to (which is in the power of) others, nor try to avoid any of the things which are not in your power. If you do not observe this rule, you must of necessity fail in your desires and fall into that which you would avoid. What is the difficulty here? where is there room for the words, How will it be? and How will it turn out? and will this happen or that?

Now is not that which will happen independent of the will? Yes. And the nature of good and of evil is it not in the things which are within the power of the will? Yes. Is it in your power then to treat according to nature every thing which happens? Can any person hinder you? No man. No longer then say to me, How will it be? For however it may be, you will dispose of it well,[*](See a passage in Plutarch on Tranquillity from Euripides, the great storehouse of noble thoughts, from which ancient writers drew much good matter: and perhaps it was one of the reasons why so many of his plays and fragments have been preserved. We must not quarrel with the things that are,For they care not for us but he who feels themIf he disposes well of things, fares well.) and the result to you will be a fortunate one. What would Hercules have been if he said, How shall a great lion not appear to me, or a great boar, or savage men? And what do you care for that? If a great boar appear, you will fight a greater fight: if bad men appear, you will relieve the earth of the bad. Suppose then that I lose my life in this way. You will die a good man, doing a noble act. For since we must certainly die, of necessity a man must be found doing something, either following the employment of a husbandman, or digging, or trading, or serving in a consulship or suffering from indigestion or from diarrhoea. What then do you wish to be doing when you are found by death? I for my part would wish to be found doing something which belongs to a man, beneficent, suitable to the general interest, noble. But if I cannot be found doing things so great, I would be found doing at least that which I

cannot be hindered from doing, that which is permitted me to do, correcting myself, cultivating the faculty which makes use of appearances, labouring at freedom from the affects (labouring at tranquillity of mind), rendering to the relations of life their due; if I succeed so far, also (I would be found) touching on (advancing to) the third topic (or head) safety in the forming judgments about things.[*](See iii. c. 2.) If death surprises me when I am busy about these things, it is enough for me if I can stretch out my hands to God and say: The means which I have received from thee for seeing thy administration (of the world) and following it, I have not neglected: I have not dishonoured thee by my acts: see how I have used my perceptions, see how I have used my preconceptions: have I ever blamed thee? have I been discontented with any thing that happens, or wished it to be otherwise? have I wished to transgress the (established) relations (of things)? That thou hast given me life, I thank thee for what thou hast given: so long as I have used the things which are thine I am content; take them back and place them wherever thou mayest choose; for thine were all things, thou gayest them to me[*](Thine they were, and thou gavest them to me. John xvii. 6. Mrs. Carter.)—Is it not enough to depart in this state of mind, and what life is better and more becoming than that of a man who is in this state of mind? and what end is more happy?[*](I wish it were possible to palliate the ostentation of this passage, by applying it to the ideal perfect character: but it is in a general way that Epictetus hath proposed such a dying speech, as cannot without shocking arrogance be uttered by any one born to die. Unmixed as it is with any acknowledgment of faults or imperfections, at present, or with any sense of guilt on account of the past, it must give every sober reader a very disadvantageous opinion of some principles of the philosophy, on which it is founded, as contradictory to the voice of conscience, and formed on absolute ignorance or neglect of the condition and circumstances of such a creature as man. Mrs. Carter. I am inclined to think that Epictetus does refer to the ideal perfect character; but others may not understand him in this way. When Mrs. Carter says but it is in a general . . . dying speech, she can hardly suppose, as her words seem to mean, that Epictetus proposed such a dying speech for every man or even for many men, for he knew and has told us how bad many men are, and how few are good according to his measure and rule: in fact his meaning is plainly expressed. The dying speech may even be stronger in the sense in which Mrs. Carter understands it, in my translation, where I have rendered one passage in the text by the words I have not dishonoured thee by my acts, which she translates, as far as in me lay, I have not dishonoured thee. which apparently means, as far as I could, I have not dishonoured thee. The Latin translation quantum in me fuit, seems rather ambiguous to me.There is a general confession of sins in the prayer book of the Church of England, part of which Epictetus would not have rejected, I think. Of course the words which form the peculiar Christian character of the confession would have been unintelligible to him. It is a confession which all persons of all conditions are supposed to make. If all persons made the confession with sincerity, it ought to produce a corresponding behaviour and make men more ready to be kind to one another, for all who use it confess that they fail in their duty, and it ought to lower pride and banish arrogance from the behaviour of those who in wealth and condition are elevated above the multitude. But I have seen it somewhere said, I cannot remember where, but said in no friendly spirit to Christian prayer, that some men both priests and laymen prostrate themselves in humility before God and indemnify themselves by arrogance to man.)

But that this may be done (that such a declaration may be made), a man must receive (bear) no small things, nor are the things small which he must lose (go without). You cannot both wish to be a consul and to have these things (the power of making such a dying speech), and to be eager to have lands, and these things also; and to be solicitous about slaves and about yourself. But if you wish for any thing which belongs to another, that which is your own is lost. This is the nature of the thing: nothing is given or had for nothing.[*](See iv. 2. 2.) And where is the wonder? If you wish to be a consul, you must keep awake, run about, kiss hands, waste yourself with exhaustion at other men’s doors, say and do many things unworthy of a free man, send gifts to many, daily presents to some. And what is the thing that is got? Twelve bundles of rods (the consular fasces), to sit three or four times on the tribunal, to exhibit the games in the Circus and to give suppers in small baskets.[*](These were what the Romans named sportulæ, in which the rich used to give some eatables to poor dependents who called to pay their espects to the great at an early hour. Nunc sportula primoLimine parva sedet turbae rapienda togatae.Juvenal, Sat. i. 95.) Or, if you

do not agree about this, let some one show me what there is besides these things. In order then to secure freedom from passions (ἀπαφείας), tranquillity, to sleep well when you do sleep, to be really awake when you are awake, to fear nothing, to be anxious about nothing, will you spend nothing and give no labour? But if any thing belonging to you be lost while you are thus busied, or be wasted badly, or another obtains what you ought to have obtained, will you immediately be vexed at what has happened? Will you not take into the account on the other side what you receive and for what, how much for how much? Do you expect to have for nothing things so great? And how can you? One work (thing) has no community with another. You cannot have both external things after bestowing care on them and your own ruling faculty:[*](You cannot serve God and Mammon. Matthew vi. 24. Mrs. Carter.) but if you would have those, give up this. If you do not, you will have neither this nor that, while you are drawn in different ways to both.[*](See iv. 2, 5.) The oil will be spilled, the household vessels will perish: (that may be), but I shall be free from passions (tranquil).—There will be a fire when I am not present, and the books will be destroyed: but I shall treat appearances according to nature—Well; but I shall have nothing to eat. If I am so unlucky, death is a harbour; and death is the harbour for all; this is the place of refuge; and for this reason not one of the things in life is difficult: as soon as you choose, you are out of the house, and are smoked no more.[*](Compare i. 25, 18, and i. 9, 20.) Why then are you anxious, why do you lose your sleep, why do you not straightway, after considering wherein your good is and your evil, say, Both of them are in my power? Neither can any man deprive me of the good, nor involve me in the bad against my will. Why do I not throw myself down and snore? for all that I have is safe. As to the things which belong to others, he will look to them who gets them, as they may be given by him who has the power.[*](See the note in Schweig.’s ed.) Who am I who wish to have them in this way or in that? is a power of selecting them given to me? has any person made me the dispenser of them? Those things are enough for me over which I have power: I ought to manage them as well as I can: and all the rest, as the master of them (God) may choose.

When a man has these things before his eyes, does he keep awake and turn hither and thither? What would he have, or what does he regret, Patroclus or Antilochus or Menelaus?[*](Epictetus refers to the passage in the Iliad xxiv. 5, where Achilles is lamenting the death of Patroclus and cannot sleep.) For when did he suppose that any of his friends was immortal, and when had he not before his eyes that on the morrow or the day after he or his friend must die? Yes, he says, but I thought that he would survive me and bring up my son.—You were a fool for that reason, and you were thinking of what was uncertain. Why then do you not blame yourself, and sit crying like girls?—But he used to set my food before me. —Because he was alive, you fool, but now he cannot: but Automedon[*](This is a wretched idea of friendship; but a necessary consequence of the Stoic system. What a fine contrast to this gloomy consolation are the noble sentiments of an Apostle? Value your deceased friend, says Epictetus, as a broken pipkin; forget him, as a thing worthless, lost and destroyed. St. Paul, on the contrary, comforts the mourning survivors; bidding them not sorrow, as those who have no hope: but remember that the death of good persons is only a sleep; from which they will soon arise to a happy immortality. Mrs. Carter. Epictetus does not say, value your deceased friend as a broken pipkin. Achilles laments that he has lost the services of his friend at table, a vulgar kind of complaint: he is thinking of his own loss, instead of his friend. The answer is such a loss as he laments is easily repaired: the loss of such a friend is as easily repaired as the loss of a cooking vessel. Mrs. Carter in her zeal to contrast the teaching of the Apostle with that of Epictetus seems to forget for the time that Epictetus, so far as we know, did not accept or did not teach the doctrine of a future life. As to what he thought of friendship, if it was a real friendship, such as we can conceive, I am sure that he did not think of it, as Mrs. Carter says that he did; for true friendship implies many of the virtues which Epictetus taught and practised. He has a chapter on Friendship, ii. 22, which I suppose that Mrs. Carter did not think of, when she wrote this note.) will set it before you, and if Automedon also dies, you will find another. But if the pot, in which your meat was cooked, should be broken, must you die of

hunger, because you have not the pot which you are accustomed to? Do you not send and buy a new pot? He says:

No greater ill than this could fall on me.

(Iliad xix. 321.) Why is this your ill? Do you then instead of removing it blame your mother (Thetis) for not foretelling it to you that you might continue grieving from that time? What do you think? do you not suppose that Homer wrote this that we may learn that those of noblest birth, the strongest and the richest, the most handsome, when they have not the opinions which they ought to have, are not prevented from being most wretched and unfortunate?