BOOK ONE

1
What, then, is to be done? To make the best of what is in our power, and take the rest as it natural­ly happens.

2
I must die: and must I die groaning too? — Be fettered. Must it be lamenting too? — Exiled. And what hinders me, then, but that I may go smiling, and cheerful, and serene? — “Betray a secret” — I will not betray it; for this is in my own power. — “Then I will fetter you.” — What do you say, man? Fetter me? You will fetter my leg; but not Jupiter himself can get the better of my choice. “I will throw you into prison: I will behead that paltry body of yours.” Did I ever tell you, that I alone had a head not liable to be cut off?

3
This it is to have studied what ought to be studied; to have rendered our desires and aversions incapable of being restrained, or incurred. I must die: if instantly, I will die instantly; if in a short time, I will dine first; and when the hour comes, then I will die: How? As becomes one who restores what is not his own.

4
It is you who know yourself, what value you set upon yourself, and at what rate you sell yourself: for different people sell themselves at different prices.

5
Only consider at what price you sell your own will and choice, man: if for nothing else, that you may not sell it for a trifle. Greatness indeed, and excellence, perhaps belong to others, to such as Socrates.

Why, then, as we are born with a like nature, do not all, or the greater number, become such as he?

Why, are all horses swift? Are all dogs saga­cious? What then, because nature hath not befriended me, shall I neglect all care of myself? Heaven forbid I Epictetus is inferior to Socrates; but if superior to ______ this is enough for me. I shall never be Milo, and yet I do not neglect my body; nor
Croesus, and yet I do not neglect my property: nor, in general, do we omit the care of any thing belong­ing to us, from a despair of arriving at the highest degree of perfection.

6
If a person could be persuaded of this principle as he ought, that we are all originally descended from God, and that he is the Father of gods and men, I conceive he never would think meanly or degener­ately concerning himself. Suppose Caesar were to adopt you, there would be no bearing your haughtly looks: and will you not be elated on knowing your­self to be the son of Jupiter?

7
What is the business of virtue? A prosperous life.

8
Where is improvement, then? If any of you, withdrawing himself from externals, turns to his own faculty of choice, to exercise, and finish, and render it conformable to nature; elevated, free, unrestrained, unhindered, faithful, decent: if he hath learnt too, that whoever desired, or is averse to, things out of his own power, can neither be faithful nor free, but must necessarily be changed and tossed up and down with them; must necessarily too be subject to others, to such as can procure or prevent what he desires or is averse to: if, rising in the morning, he observes and keeps to these rules; bathes and eats as a man of fidelity and honor; and thus, on every subject of action, exercises himself in his principal duty; as a racer, in the business of racing; as a public speaker, in the business of exercising his voice: this is he who truly improves; this is he who hath not travelled in vain. But if he is wholly intent on reading books, and hath labored that point only, and travelled for that: I bid him go home immediately, and not neglect his domestic affairs; for what he travelled for is nothing. The only real thing is, studying how to rid his life of lamentation, and complaint, and “Alas!” and “I am undone,” and misfortune, and disappointment; and to learn what death, what exile, what prison, what poison is: that he may be able to say in a prison, like Socrates, “My dear Crito, if it thus pleases the gods, thus let it be”; and not — “Wretched old man, have I kept my grey hairs for this!”.

9
We offer sacrifices on the account of those who have given us corn and the vine; and shall we not give thanks to God, for those who have produced that fruit in the human understanding, by which they proceed to discover to us the true doctrine of happiness?

10
From every event that happens in the world it is easy to celebrate providence, if a person hath but these two circumstances in himself; a faculty of considering what happens to each individual, and a grateful temper. Without the first he will not perceive the usefulness of things which happen, and without the other he will not be thankful for them. If God had made colors, and had not made the faculty of seeing them, what would have been their use? None.

11
Who is it that hath fitted the sword to the scabbard, and the scabbard to the sword? Is it no one? From the very construction of a complete work, we are used to declare positively, that it must be the operation of some artificer, and not the effect of mere chance. Doth every such work, then demon­s tr ate an artificer; and do not visible objects, and the sense of seeing, and Light, demonstrate one? Doth not the difference of the sexes, and their inclination to each other, and the use of their several powers; do not these things, neither, demon­strate an artificer?

Most certainly they do.

12
God hath introduced man as a spectator of himself and his works; and not only as a spectator, but an interpreter of them. It is therefore shameful that man should begin and end where irrational creatures do. He is indeed rather to begin there, but to end where nature itself hath fixed our end; and that is in contemplation and understanding, and in a scheme of life conformable to nature.

Take care, then, not to die without being spectators of these things. You take a journey to Olympia to behold the work of Phidias, and each of you think it a misfortune to die without a knowledge of such things; and will you have no inclination to understand and be spectators of those works for which there is no need to take a journey; but which are ready and at hand, even to those who bestow no pains? Will you never perceive, then, either what you are or for what you were born; nor for what purpose you are admitted spectators of this sight?

13
Well, and (in the present case) have not you received faculties by which you may support every events? Have not you received greatness of soul? Have not you received a manly spirit? Have not you received patience? What signifies to me any thing that happens, while I have a greatness of soul? What shall disconcert or trouble or appear grievous to me? Shall I not make use of my faculties, to that purpose for which they were granted me, but lament and groan at what happens?

Oh, but my nose runs.

And what have you hands for, beast, but to wipe it?

But was there, then, any good reason that there should be such a dirty thing in the world?

And how much better is it that you should wipe your nose, than complain?

14
What is the profession of reasoning? to lay down true positions; to reject false ones; and to suspend the judgment in doubtful ones. Is it enough, then, to have learned merely this? — Is it enough, then, for him who would not commit any mistake in the use of money, merely to have heard that we are to receive

the good pieces, and reject the bad? — This is not enough. — What must be added besides? — That faculty which tries and distinguishes what pieces are good, what bad. — Therefore, in reasoning too, what hath been already said is not enough; but it is necessary that we should be able to prove and distinguish between the true and the false and the doubtful. — It is necessary.

15
If you ask me, what is the good of man? I have nothing else to say to you but that it is a certain regulation of the choice with regard to the appear­ances of things.

16
Shall kindred to Caesar, or any other of the great at Rome, enable a man to live secure, above contempt, and void of all fear whatever; and shall not the having God for our Maker, and Father, and Guardian free us from griefs and terrors?

17
This is the work, if any, that ought to employ your master and preceptor, if you had one; that you should come to him, and say: “Epictetus, we can no longer bear being tied down to this paltry body, feeding and resting and cleaning it, and hurried about with so many low cares on its account. Are not these things indifferent, and nothing to us, and death no evil? Are not we relations of God, and did we not come from him? Suffer us to go back thither from whence we came; suffer us, at length, to be delivered from these fetters, that chain and weigh us down. Here thieves and robbers, and courts of judicature, and those who are called tyrants, seem to have some power over us, on account of the body and its possessions. Suffer us to show them, that they have no power.”

And in this case it would be my part to answer: “My friends, wait for God, till he shall give the signal, and dismiss you from this service; then return to him. For the present, be content to remain in this post where he has placed you. The time of your abode here is short, and easy to such as are disposed like you. For what tyrant, what robber, what thief, or what courts of judicature are formidable to those who thus account the body and its possessions as nothing? Stay. Depart not inconsid­erately.”

18
True instruction is this: learning to will that things should happen as they do. And how do they happen? As the appointer of them hath appointed. He hath appointed that there should be summer and winter, plenty and dearth, virtue and vice, and all such contrarieties, for the harmony of the whole. To each of us he hath given a body and its parts, and our several properties and companions. Mindful of this appointment, we should enter upon a course of education and instruction not to change the constitu­tion of things, which is neither put within our reach nor for our good; but that, being as they are, and as their nature is with regard to us, we may have our mind accommodated to what exists.

19
So that when you have shut your doors, and darkened your room, remember never to say that you are alone, for you are not; but God is within, and your genius is within, and what need have they of light to see what you are doing?

20
When one consulted him, how he might persuade his brother to forbear treating him ill: Philosophy, answered Epictetus, doth not promise to procure anything external to man, otherwise it would admit something beyond its proper subject-matter. For the subject-matter of a carpenter is wood; of a statuary, brass: and so of the art of living, the subject matter is each person’s own life.

21
No great thing is brought to perfection sudden­ly, when not so much as a bunch of grapes or a fig is. If you tell me that you would at this minute have a fig, I will answer you, that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. Is then the fruit of a fig-tree not brought to perfection suddenly, and in one hour; and would you possess the fruit of the human mind in so short a time, and without trouble? I tell you, expect no such thing.

22
Ought we not, whether we are digging, or plough­ing, or eating, to sing the hymn to God? Great is God, who has supplied us with these instruments to till the ground: great is God, who has given us hands, a power of swallowing, a stomach: who has given us to grow insensibly, to breathe in sleep. Even these things we ought upon every occasion to celebrate; but to make it the subject of the greatest and most divine hymn, that he has given us the faculty of apprehending them, and using them in a proper way.

23
Who then is unconquerable? He whom nothing, independent of choice, disconcerts.

24
The philosophers talk paradoxes. And are there not paradoxes in other arts? What is more paradoxi­cal than the pricking any one’s eye to make him see? If a person was to tell this to one ignorant of surgery, would not he laugh at him? Where is the wonder, then, if, in philosophy too, many truths appear paradoxes to the ignorant?

25
Socrates used to say that we ought not to live a life unexamined.

26
When you are going to any one of the great, remember, that there is Another, who sees from above what passes; and whom you ought to please rather than man.

 

BOOK TWO

1
For it is not death or pain that is to be feared; but the fear of pain or death. Hence we commend him who says:

“Death is no ill, but shamefully to die.”

2
And thus, this paradox becomes neither imposs­ible nor a paradox, that we must be at once cautious and courageous: courageous in what doth not depend upon choice, and cautious in what doth.

3
Consider, you are going to take your trial, what you wish to preserve, and in what to succeed. Thus Socrates, to one who put him in mind to prepare himself for his trial: “Do not you think,” says he, “that I have been preparing myself for this very thing my whole life?” By what kind of preparation? “I have preserved what was in my own power.” What do you mean? “I have done nothing unjust , either in public or in private life.”

4
Diogenes rightly answered one who desired letters of recommendation from him, “At first sight he will know you to be a man: and whether you are a good or a bad man, if he hath any skill in distin­guishing, he will know likewise: and, if he hath not, he will never know it, though I should write a thousand times.”

5
How, then shall one preserve intrepidity and tranquility; and at the same time be careful, and neither rash nor indolent?

By imitating those who play at tables. The dice are indifferent; the pieces are indifferent. How do I know what will fall out? But it is my business to manage carefully and dexterously whatever doth fall out. Thus in life, too, this is the chief business; distinguish and separate things, and say, “Externals are not in my power, choice is. Where shall I seek good and evil? Within; in what is my own.” But in what belongs to others, call nothing good, or evil, or profit, or hurt, or anything of that sort.

6
God is beneficial. Good is also beneficial. It should seem, then, that where the essence of God is, there too is the essence of good. What, then, is the essence of God? Flesh? — By no means. An estate? Fame? — by no means. Intelligence? Knowledge? Right reason? — Certainly. Here then, without more ado, seek the essence of good.

7
You are a distinct portion of the essence of God, and contain a certain part of him in yourself. Why, then, are you so ignorant of your noble birth? Why do not you consider whence you came? Why do not you remember, when you are eating, who you are who eat, and whom you feed? When you are in the company of women, when you are conversing, when you are exercising, when you are disputing, do not you know that it is a god you feed, a god you exercise? You carry a god about with you, wretch, and know nothing of it. Do you suppose I mean some god without you, of gold or silver? It is within yourself you carry him, and profane him, without being sensible of it, by impure thoughts and unclean actions. If even the image of God were present, you would not dare to act as you do; and when God himself is within you, and hears and sees all, are not you ashamed to think and act thus, insensible of your own nature and hateful to God?

8
If God had committed some orphan to your charge, would you have been thus careless of him? He hath delivered yourself to your care, and says, “I had no one fitter to be trusted than you: preserve this person for me, such as he is by nature; modest, faithful, sublime, unterrified, dispassionate, tranquil.” And will you not preserve him?

9
Examine who you are. In the first place, a man: that is, one who hath nothing superior to the faculty of choice; but all things subject to this; and this itself unenslaved, and unsubjected, to anything. Consider, then, from what you are distinguished by reason. You are distinguished from wild beasts: you are distinguished from cattle. Besides, you are a citizen of the world, and a part of it; not a subser­vient, but a principal part.

10
But must you lose money, in order to suffer damage; and is there no other thing, the loss of which endamages a man? If you were to part with your skill in grammar, or in music, would you think the loss of these a damage? And, if you part with honor, decency, and gentleness, do you think that no matter? Yet the first are lost by some cause exter­nal, and independent on choice; but the last by our own fault. There is no shame either in having, or losing the one; but either not to have, or to lose, the other, is equally shameful and reproachful and unhappy.

11
What, then, shall not I hurt him who hath hurt me? Consider first what hurt is; and remember what you have heard from the Philosophers. For, if both good and evil consist in choice, see whether what you say doth not amount to this: “Since he hath hurt himself by injuring me, shall not I hurt myself by injuring him?” 

12
The beginning of philosophy is this: The being sensible of the disagreement of men with each other; an inquiry into the cause of this disagreement, and a disapprobation and distrust of what merely seems; a certain examination into what seems, whether it seem rightly; and an invention of some rule, like a balance for the determination of weights, like a square for straight and crooked.

13
This is the part of philosophy: to examine and fix the rules; and to make use of them when the are known, is the business of a wise and good man.

14
When children cry if their nurse happens to be absent for a little while, give them a cake, and they forget their grief. Shall we compare you to these children, then?

No, indeed. For I do not desire to be pacified by a cake, but by right principles. And what are they?

Such as a man ought to study all day long, so as not to be attached to what doth not belong to him; neither to a friend, to a place, an academy, nor even to his own body, but to remember the law and to have that constantly before his eyes. And what is the divine law? To preserve inviolate what is properly our own, not to claim what belongs to others; to use what is given us, and not desire what is not given us; and, when anything is taken away, to restore it readily, and to be thankful for the time you have been permitted the use of it, and not cry after it, like a child for its nurse and its mamma.

15
Expel grief, fear, desire, envy, malevolence, avarice, effeminacy, intemperance, from your mind. But these can be no otherwise expelled than by looking up to God alone as your pattern; by attaching yourself to him alone, and being consecrated to his commands. If you wish for anything else, you will, with sighs and groans, follow what is stronger than you, always seeking prosperity without, and never able to find it. For you seek it where it is not, and neglect to seek it where it is.

16
What is the first business of one who studies philosophy? To part with self-conceit. For it is impossible for any one to begin to learn what he hath a conceit that he already knows. Now it is ridicu­lous to suppose that a person will learn anything but what he desires to learn, or make an improvement in what he doth not learn.

17
Every habit and faculty is preserved and increas­ed by correspondent actions: as the habit of walking, by walking; of running, by running. If you would be a reader, read; if a writer, write. But if you do not read for a month together, but do somewhat else, you will see what will be the consequence. So after sitting still for ten days, get up and attempt to take a long walk, and you will find how your legs are weakened. Upon the whole, then, whatever you would make habitual, practice it; and, if you would not make a thing habitual, do not practice it, but habituate yourself to something else.

It is the same with regard to the operations of the soul. Whenever you are angry, be assured that it is not only a present evil, but that you have increas­ed a habit, and added fuel to a fire. When you are overcome by the company of women, do not esteem it as a single defeat; but that you have fed, that you have increased, your dissoluteness. For it is impossible but that habits and faculties must either be first produced, or strengthened and increased, by corres­pondent actions.

18
If you would not be of an angry temper, then, do not feed the habit. Give it nothing to help its increase. Be quiet at first, and reckon the days in which you have not been angry. I used to be angry every day; now every other day; then every third and fourth day: and, if you miss it so long as thirty days, offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to God. For habit is first weakened, and then entirely destroyed. “I was not vexed to-day; nor the next day; nor for three or four months after; but took heed to myself when some provoking things happened.” Be assured that you are in a fine way. “To-day, when I saw a handsome person, I did not say to myself, 0 that I could possess her! And, How happy is her husband! ( for he who says this, says too, How happy is her gallant!): nor do I go on to represent her as pre­sent, as undressed, as lying down beside me.” On this I stroke my head, and say, Well done, Epictetus: thou hast solved a pretty sophism; a much prettier than one very celebrated in the schools. But if even the lady should happen to be willing, and give me intimations of it, and send for me and press my hand, and place herself next to me, and I should then forbear and get the victory, that would be a sophism beyond all the subtleties of logic. This, and not disputing artfully, is the proper subject for exul­tation.

19

Concerning those who embrace philosophy only in word: Who, then, is a Stoic? As we call that a Phidian statue, which is formed according to the art of Phidias, so show me some one person, formed according to the principles which he professes. Show me one who is sick, and happy; in danger, and happy; dying, and happy; exiled, and happy; disgraced, and happy. Show him me, for, by heaven, I long to see a Stoic. But (you will say) you have not one perfectly formed. Show me, then, one who is forming, one who is approaching towards this character. Do me this favor. Do not refuse an old man a sight which he hath never yet seen. Do you suppose that you are to show the Jupiter or Minerva of Phidias, a work of ivory or gold? Let any of you show me a human soul, willing to have the same sentiments with those of God, not to accuse either God or man, not to be disappointed of its desire, or incur its aversion, not to be angry, not to be envious, not to be jealous, in a word, willing from a man to become a god, and, in this poor mortal body, aiming to have fellowship with Jupiter. Show him to me. But you cannot.

20
True and evident propositions must, of neces­sity, be used even by those who contradict them. And, perhaps, one of the strongest proofs that there is such a thing as evidence, is the necessity which those who contradict it are under to make use of it. If a person, for instance, should deny that anything is universally true, he will be obliged to assert the contrary, that nothing is universally true. What, wretch, not even this itself? For what is this but to say, that everything universal is false? Again, if any one should come and say, “Know that there is nothing to be known, but all things are uncertain”; or another, “Believe me, and it will be the better for you, no man ought to be believe in anything”; or a third, “Learn from me, that nothing is to be learned; I tell you this, and will teach the proof of it, if you please.” Now what difference is there between such as these, and those who call themselves Academics? Who say to us, “Be convinced, that no one ever is convinced. Believe us, that nobody believes anybody.”

21
Thus also, when Epicurus would destroy the natural relation of mankind to each other, he makes use of the very thing he is destroying. For what doth he say? “Be not deceived, be not seduced and mistaken. There is no natural relation between reasonable beings. Believe me.  Those who say otherwise mislead and impose upon you.” Why are you concerned for us, then?  You Let us be deceived. will fare never the worse if all the rest of us are persuaded that there is a natural relation between mankind, and that it is by all means to be preserved. Nay, it will be much safer and better. Why do you give yourself any trouble about us, sir? Why do you break your rest for us? Why do you light your lamp? Why do you rise early? Why do you compose so many volumes? Is it that none of us should be deceived concerning the gods; as if they took any care of men? Or that we may not suppose the essence of good consists in anything but pleasure? For, if these things be so, lie down and sleep, and lead the life of which you judge yourself worthy — that of a mere reptile. Eat and drink, and satisfy your passion for women, and ease yourself, and snore. What is it to you whether others think right or wrong about these things?

22
To whatever objects a person devotes his attention, these objects he probably loves. ­Do men ever devote their attention, then, to evils? — By no means. Or even to what doth not concern them? — No, nor this. It remains, then, that good must be the sole object of their attention; and, if of their attention, of their love too. Whoever, therefore, understands good is capable likewise of love; and he who cannot distinguish good from evil, and things indifferent from both, how is it possible that he can love? The prudent person alone, then, is capable of loving.

23
If, therefore, to speak properly belongs to one who is skillful, do not you see, that to hear with benefit belongs likewise to one who is skillful? He who would hear philosophers needs some kind of exercise in hearing.

24
When one of the company said to him, “Convince me that logic is necessary”: Would you have me demonstrate it to you? says he. — “Yes.” Then I must use a demonstrative form of argument. — “Granted.” And how will you know then whether I argue sophis­tically? On this, the man being silent: You see, says he, that even by your own confession, logic is necessary; since, without its assistance, you cannot learn so much as whether it be necessary or not.

 

BOOK THREE

1
Of ascetic exercise: We are not to carry our exercises beyond nature, nor merely to attract admiration; for thus we, who call ourselves philoso­phers, shall not differ from jugglers.

2
As bad performers cannot sing alone but in a chorus, so some persons cannot walk alone. If you are anything, walk alone, talk by yourself, and do not skulk in the chorus. Think a little at last; look about you, sift yourself, that you my know what you are.

3
I am better than you, for my father hath been consul. I have been a tribune, says another, and not you. If we were horses, would you say, My father was swifter than yours? I have abundance of oats and hay, and fine trappings? What now, if while you were saying this, I should answer, “Be it so. Let us run a race, then.” Is there nothing in man analogous to a race in horses, by which it may be known which is better or worse? Is there not honor, fidelity, justice? Show yourself the better in these, that you may be the better, as a man. But if you tell me you can kick violently, I will tell you again that you value yourself on the property of an ass.

4
He who frequently converses with others, either in discourse or entertainments, or in any familiar way of living, must necessarily either become like his companions, or bring them over to his own way. For, if a dead coal be applied to a live one, either the first will quench the last, or the last kindle the first. Since, then, the danger is so great, caution must be used in entering into these familiar­ities with the vulgar; remembering that it is impossible to touch a chimney-sweeper without being partaker of his soot.

5
Do not you know that a wise and good man doth nothing for appearance, but for the sake of having acted well?

6
Why, do you not know, then, that the origin of all human evils and of mean-spiritedness and coward­ice is not death, but rather the fear of death? Fortify yourself, therefore, against this. Hither let all your discourses, readings, exercises, tend. And then you will know that thus alone are men made free.

 

BOOK FOUR

1
Consider in animals what is our idea of freedom. Some keep tame lions, and feed and even carry them about with them; and who will say that any such lion is free? Nay, doth he not live the more slavishly the more he lives at ease? And who, that had sense and reason, would wish to be one of those lions? Again, how much do birds, which are taken and kept in a cage, suffer by trying to fly away? Nay, some of them starve with hunger rather than undergo such a life; then, as many of them as are saved, it is scarcely and with difficulty and in a pining condi­tion, and the moment they find any hole, out they hop. Such a desire have they of natural freedom, and to be at their own disposal and unrestrained.

2
Do you think freedom to be something great and noble and valuable? — “How should I not?” Is it possible, then, that he who acquires anything so great and valuable and noble should be of an abject spirit? — “It is not.” Whenever, then, you see any one subject to another, and flattering him, contrary to his own opinion, confidently say that he too is not free; and not only if he doth it for a supper, but even if it be for a government, nay, a consul­ship; but call those indeed little slaves who act thus for the sake of little things, and the others, as they deserve, great slaves.

3
What is it, then, that makes a man free and independent? For neither riches, nor consulship, nor command of provinces, or kingdoms, make him so; but something else must be found. What is it that preserves any one from being hindered and restrained in writing? — “The science of writing.” In music? — “The science of music.” Therefore, in life, too, the science of living. As you have heard it in general, then, consider it likewise in particulars. Is it possible for him to be unrestrained who desires any of those things that are in the power of others?
“No.” Can he avoid being hindered? — “No.” There­fore neither can he be free.

4
And what if my fellow-traveller himself should turn against me, and rob me?  What shall I do? I will be the friend of Caesar. While I am his compion, no one will injure me. Yet, before I can become illustrious enough for this, what must I bear and suffer! How often, and by how many, must I be robbed? And then, if I do become the friend of

Caesar, he too is mortal; and, if by any accident he should become my enemy, where can I best retreat? To a desert? Well, and doth not a fever come there? What can be done, then? Is it not possible to find a fellow-traveller, safe, faithful, brave, incapable of being surprised? A person who reasons thus under­stands and considers that, if he joins himself to God, he shall go safely through his journey. — “How do you mean, join himself?” That whatever is the will of God may be his will too; whatever is not the will of God may not be his. “How, then, can this be done?” — Why, how otherwise than by considering the exertions of God’s power, and his administration? What hath he given me, my own, and independent? What hath he reserved to himself? He hath given me whatever depends upon choice. The things in my power he hath made incapable of hindrance or restraint.

5
After you have received all, and even your very self, from another, are you angry with the giver, and complain if he takes anything away from you? Who are you, and for what purpose did you come? Was it not he who brought you here? Was it not he who showed you the light? Hath not he given you assistants? Hath not he given you senses? Hath not he given you reason? And as whom did he bring you here? Was it not as a mortal? Was it not as one to live, with a little portion of flesh, upon earth, and to see his administration; to behold the spectacle with him, and partake of the festival for a short time? After having beheld the spectacle, and the solemnity, then, as long as it is permitted you, will you not depart when he leads you out, adoring and thankful for what you have heard and seen?

6
Correct your principles. See that nothing cleave to you which is not your own; nothing grow to you that may give you pain when it is torn away. And say, when you are daily exercising yourself as you do here, not that you act the philosopher (admit this to be an insolent title), but that you are asserting your freedom. For this is true freedom.

7
Are you free yourself, then? (it will be said). By heaven, I wish and pray for it. But I cannot yet face my masters. I still pay a regard to my body, and set a great value on keeping it whole, though at the same time it is not whole. But I can show you one who was free, that you may no longer seek an example. Diogenes was free. — Not “How so?” because he was of free parents, for he was not; but because he was so himself, because he had cast away all the handles of slavery, nor was there any way of getting at him, nor anywhere to lay hold on him to enslave him. Everything sat loose upon him, every­thing only just hung on. If you took hold on his possessions, he would rather let them go than follow you for them; if on his leg, he let go his leg; if his body, he let go his body; acquaintance, friends, country, just the same. For he knew whence he had them, and from who and upon what conditions he received them. But he would never have forsaken his true parents the gods, and his real country, nor have suffered any one to be more dutiful and obedient to them than he; nor would any one have died more readily for his country than he.

8
And that you may not think that I show you the example of a man clear of encumbrances, without a wife or children, or country or friends, or relations to bend and draw him aside; take Socrates, and consider him, who had a wife and children, but not as his own; a country, friends, relations, but only as long as it was proper, and in the manner that was proper; and all these he submitted to the law and to the obedience due to it. Hence, when it was proper to fight he was the first to go out, and exposed himself to danger without the least reserve. But when he was sent by the thirty tyrants to apprehend Leo, because he esteemed it a base action he did not deliberate about it, though he knew that, perhaps, he might die for it. But what did that signify to him? For it was something else that he wanted to preserve, not his paltry flesh; but his fidelity, his honor, free from attack or subjection. And afterwards, when

he was to make a defence for his life, doth he behave like one who had children? Or a wife? No; but like a single man. And how doth he behave when he was to drink the poison? When he might have escaped, and Crito persuaded him to get out of prison for the sake of his children, what doth he say? Doth he esteem it a fortunate opportunity? How should he? But he considers what is becoming, and neither sees nor regards anything else. “For I am not desirous,” says he, “to preserve this pitiful body, but that [part of me] which is improved and preserved by justice, and impaired and destroyed by injustice.” Socrates is not to be basely preserved. He who refused to vote for what the Athenians commanded, he who contemned the thirty tyrants, he who held such discourses on virtue and moral beauty: such a man is not to be preserved by a base action; but is preserved by dying, not by running away. For even a good actor is preserved by leaving off when he ought, not by going on to act beyond his time. “What, then, will become of your children?” — “If I had gone away to Thessaly you would have taken care of them; and will there be no one to take care of them when I am departed to Hades?” You see how he ridicules and plays with death. But, if it had been you or I, we should presently have proved, by philosophical arguments, that those who act unjustly are to be repaid in their own way; and should have added, “If I escape, I shall be of use to many; if I die, to none.” Nay, if it had been necessary, we should have crept through a mouse-hole to get away. But how should we have been of use to any? For where must they have dwelt? If we were useful alive, should we not be of still more use to mankind by dying when we ought, and as we ought? And now the remembrance of the death of Socrates is not less, but even more useful to the world than that of the things which he did and said when alive.

9
When you have lost anything external, have this always at hand, what you have got instead of it; and, if that be of more value, do not by any means say, “I am a loser”; whether it be a horse for an ass, an ox for a sheep, a good action for a piece of money, a due composedness of mind for a dull jest, or modesty for indecent discourse. By continually remembering this, you will preserve your character such as it ought to be.

10
Now, the very nature of every one is to pursue good, to avoid evil, to esteem him as an enemy and betrayer who deprives us of the one, and involves us in the other, though he be a brother, or a son, or father. For nothing is more nearly related to us than good.

11
Never commend or censure any one for common actions, nor ascribe them either to skillfulness or unskillfulness, and thus you will at once be free both from rashness and ill-nature. Such a one bathes in a mighty little time. Doth he therefore do it ill? Not at all. But what? In a mighty little time. — “Is everything well done, then?” — By no means. But what is done from good principles is well done; what from bad ones, ill. But till you know from what principles any one acts, neither commend nor censure the action.

12
At what employment, then, would you have death find you? For my part, I would have it some humane, beneficent, public-spirited, gallant action. But if I cannot be found doing any such great things, yet, at least, I would be doing what I am incapable of being restrained from, what is given me to do, correcting myself, improving that faculty which makes use of the appearances of things, to procure tranquil­lity, and render to the several relations of life their due; and, if I am so fortunate, advancing to the third topic, a security of judging right. If death overtakes me in such a situation, it is enough for me if I can stretch out my hands to God and say, “The opportunities which thou hast given me of comprehending and following [the rules] of thy administration I have not neglected. As far as in me lay, I have not dishonored thee. See how I have used my perceptions, how my pre-conceptions. Have I at any time found fault with thee? Have I been discontented at thy dispensations, ­or wished them otherwise? Have I transgressed the relations of life? I thank thee that thou hast brought me into being. I am satisfied with the time that I have enjoyed the things which thou hast given me. Receive them back again, and assign them to whatever place thou wilt; for they were all thine, and thou gavest them to me.”

13
When you let go your attention for a little while, do not fancy you may recover it whenever you please; but remember this, that by means of the fault of today your affairs must necessarily be in a worse condition for the future.

FRAGMENTS OF EPICTETUS

1
It is better to offend seldom (owning it when we do), and act often wisely, than to say we seldom err, and offend frequently.

2
Be not so much ashamed of what is void of glory, as studious to shun what is void of truth.

3
If you would be well spoken of, learn to speak well of others. And, when you have learned to speak well of them, endeavor likewise to do well to them; and thus you will reap the fruit of being well spoken of by them.

4
If you would live with tranquillity and content, endeavor to have all who live with you good. And you will have them good by instructing the willing and dismissing the unwilling.

5
No one who is a lover of money, a lover of pleasure, or a lover of glory, is likewise a lover of mankind; but only he who is a lover of virtue.

6
When we are invited to an entertainment, we take what we find; and if any one should bid the master of the house set fish or tarts before him, he would be thought absurd. Yet, in the world, we ask the gods for what they do not give us, and that though they have given us so many things.

7
They are pretty fellows indeed, said he, who value themselves on things not in our own power. I am a better man than you, says one, for I have many estates, and you are pining with hunger. I have been consul, says another; I am a governor, a third; and I have a fine head of hair, says a fourth. Yet one horse doth not say to another, “I am better than you, for I have a great deal of hay and a great deal of oats; and I have a gold bridle and embroidered trappings”; but, “I am swifter than you.” And every creature is better or worse, from its own good or bad qualities. Is man, then, the only creature which hath no natural good quality? And must we consider hair, and clothes, and ancestors [to judge of him]?

8
Examine yourself, whether you had rather be rich or happy; and, if rich, be assured that this is neither a good, nor altogether in your own power; but, if happy, that this is both a good, and in your own power, since the one is a temporary loan of fortune and the other depends on choice.

9
As it is better to lie straitened for room upon a little couch in health, than to toss upon a wide bed in sickness, so it is better to contract yourself within the compass of a small fortune and be happy, than to have a great one and be wretched.

10
It is not poverty that causes sorrow, but covetous desires; nor do riches deliver from fear, but reasoning. If, therefore, you acquire a habit of reasoning, you will neither desire riches nor com­plain of poverty.

11
It is better, by yielding to truth, to conquer opinion; than, by yielding to opinion, to be defeated by truth.

12
It is better, by living with one free person, to be fearless and free, than to be a slave in company of many.

13
Whenever any one exceeds moderation, the most delightful things may become the most undelightful.

14
If you would give a just sentence, mind neither parties nor pleaders, but the cause itself.

15
You will commit the fewest faults in judging, if you are faultless in your own life.

16
When Pittacus had been unjustly treated by some person, and had the power of chastising him, he let him go; saying, “Forgiveness is better than punish­ment; for the one is the proof of a gentle, the other of a savage nature.”

17
Consult nothing so much, upon every occasion, as safety. Now it is safer to be silent than to speak; and omit speaking whatever is not accompanied with sense and reason.

18
As lighthouses in havens, by kindling a great flame from a few fagots, afford a considerable assistance to ships wandering on the sea: so an illustrious person, in a state harassed by storms, while he is contented with little himself, confers great benefits on his fellow-citizens.

19
As, if you were to breed lions, you would not be solicitous about the magnificence of their dens, but the qualities of the animals themselves: so, if you undertake to preside over your fellow-citizens, be not so solicitous about the magnificence of the buildings, as careful of the fortitude of those who inhabit them.

20
As neither a goose is alarmed by gaggling, nor a sheep by bleating: so neither be you terrified by the voice of a senseless multitude.

21
As the sun doth not wait for prayers and incan­tations to be prevailed on to rise, but immediately shines forth, and is received with universal salutation: so, neither do you wait for applauses and shouts and praises, in order to do good; but be a voluntary benefactor, and you will be beloved like the sun.

22
A ship ought not to be fixed by one anchor, nor life on a single hope.

23
We ought not to stretch either our legs or our hopes to a point they cannot reach.

24
Thales, being asked what was the most univer­sally enjoyed of all things, answered, “Hope; for they have it who have nothing else.”

25
Pyrrho used to say, “There is no difference between living and dying.” A person asked him, Why, then, do not you die? “Because,” answered Pyrrho, “there is no difference.”

26
If you always remember that God stands by, an inspector of whatever you do either in soul or body, you will never err, either in your prayers or actions, and you will have God abiding with you.

27
Epictetus being asked how a person might grieve his enemy, answered, “By doing as well as possible himself.”

28
Let no wise man estrange himself from the government of the state; for it is both impious to withdraw from being useful to those that need it, and cowardly to give way to the worthless. For it is foolish to choose rather to be governed ill, than to govern well.

29
[Remember] that such is, and was, and will be, the nature of the world; nor is it possible that things should be otherwise than they now are, and that not only men and other animals upon earth partake of this change and transformation, but the divinities also. For, indeed, even the four elements are transformed and changed up and down; and earth becomes water, and water air, and this again is transformed into other things. And the same manner of transformation happens from things above to those below. Whoever endeavors to turn his mind towards these points, and persuade himself to receive with willingness what cannot be avoided, he will pass his life with moderation and harmony.

THE ENCHIRIDION, OR MANUAL, OF EPICTETUS

1
Of things, some are in our power and others not. In our power are opinion, pursuit, desire, aversion, and, in one word, whatever are our own actions. Not in our power are body, property, reputation, command, and, in one word, whatever are not our own actions.

Now, the things in our power are by nature free, unrestrained, unhindered; but those not in our power, weak, slavish, restrained, belonging to others. Remember, then, that if you suppose things by nature slavish to be free, and what belongs to others your own, you will be hindered; you will lament; you will be disturbed; you will find fault both with gods and men. But if you suppose that only to be your own which is your own, and what belongs to others such as it really is, no one will ever compel you; no one will restrain you; you will do no one thing against your will; no one will hurt you; you will not have an enemy, for you will suffer no harm.

Aiming therefore at such great things, remember that you must not allow yourself to be carried, even with a slight tendency, towards the attainment of the others: but that you must entirely quit some of them and for the present postpone the rest. But if you would both have these and command and riches at once, perhaps you will not gain so much as the latter, because you aim at the former too: but you will absolutely fail of the former, by which alone happiness and freedom are procured.

Study therefore to be able to say to every harsh appearance, “You are but an appearance, and not absolutely the thing you appear to be.” And then examine it by those rules which you have, and first, and chiefly, by this: whether it concerns the things which are in our own power, or those which are not; and, if it concerns anything not in our power, be prepared to say that it is nothing to you.

2
Remember that desire promises the attainment of that of which you are desirous; and aversion promises the avoiding of that to which you are averse; and he who fails of the object of his desire is disappoint­ed, and he who incurs the object of his aversion wretched. If, then, you confine your aversion to those objects only which are contrary to the natural use of your faculties, which you have in your own power, you will never incur anything to which you are averse. But if you are averse to sickness, or death, or poverty, you will be wretched. Remove aversion, then, from all things that are not in our power, and transfer it to things contrary to the nature of what is in our power. But, for the present, totally suppress desire: for, if you desire any of the things not in our own power, you must necessarily be disappointed; and of those which are, and which it would be laudable to desire, nothing is yet in your possession. Use only [the requisite acts] of pursuit and avoidance; and even these lightly, and with gentleness and reservation.

3
With regard to whatever objects either delight the mind, or contribute to use, or are loved with fond affection, remember to tell yourself of what nature they are, beginning from the most trifling things. If you are fond of an earthen cup, that it is an earthen cup of which you are fond; for thus, if it is broken, you will not be disturbed. If you kiss your child, or your wife, that you kiss a being subject to the accidents of humanity; and thus you will. not be disturbed if either of them dies.

4
When you are going about any action, remind yourself of what nature the action is. If you are going to bathe, represent to yourself the things which usually happen in the bath: some persons dashing the water; some pushing and crowding; others giving abusive language; and others stealing. And thus you will more safely go about this action if you say to yourself, “I will now go bathe, and preserve my own mind in a state conformable to nature.” And in the same manner with regard to every other action. For this, if any impediment arises in bathing, you will have it ready to say, “It was not only to bathe that I desired, but to preserve my mind in a state conformable to nature; and I shall not preserve it so if I am out of humor at things that happen.”

5
Men are disturbed, not by things, but by the principles and notions which they form concerning things. Death, for instance, is not terrible, else it would have appeared so to Socrates. But the terror consists in our notion of death that it is terrible. When therefore we are hindered, or disturbed, or grieved, let us never impute it to others, but to ourselves; that is, to our own principles. It is the action of an uninstructed person to lay the fault of his own bad condition upon others; of one entering upon instruction to lay the fault on himself; and of one perfectly instructed, neither on others nor on himself.

6
Be not elated on any excellence not your own. If a horse should be elated and say, “I am handsome,” it would be supportable. But when you are elated, and say, “I have a handsome horse,” know that you are elated on what is, in fact, only the good of the horse. What, then is your own? The use of the appearances of things. So that when you behave conformably to nature in the use of these appearances, you will be elated with reason; for you will be elated on some good of your own.

7
As in a voyage, when the ship is at anchor, if you go on shore to get water you may amuse yourself with picking up a shellfish, or an onion, in your way, but your thoughts ought to be bent towards the ship, and perpetually attentive lest the captain should call, and then you must leave all these things, that you may not be thrown into the vessel, bound neck and heels like a sheep: thus likewise in life, if, instead of an onion or a shellfish, such a thing as a wife or a child be granted you, there is no objection; but if the captain calls, run to the ship, leave all these things, regard none of them. But if you are old, never go far from the ship: lest, when you are called, you should be unable to come in time.

8
Require not things to happen as you wish, but wish them to happen as they do happen, and you will go on well.

9
Sickness is an impediment to the body, but not to the faculty of choice, unless itself pleases. Lameness is an impediment to the leg, but not to the faculty of choice: and say this to yourself with regard to everything that happens. For you will find it to be an impediment to something else, but not to yourself.

10
Upon every accident, remember to turn towards yourself and inquire what powers you have for making a proper use of it. If you see a handsome person, you will find continence a power against this: if pain be presented to you, you will find fortitude: if ill language, you will find patience. And thus habituated, the appearances of things will not hurry you away along with them.

11
Never say of anything, “I have lost it”; but, “I have restored it.” Is your child dead? It is restored. Is your wife dead? She is restored. Is your estate taken away? Well, and is not that likewise restored? “But he who took it away is a bad man.” What is it to you by whose hands he, who gave it, hath demanded it back again? While he gives you to possess it, take care of it; but as of something not your own, as passengers do of an inn.

12
If you would improve, lay aside such reasonings as these: “If I neglect my affairs, I shall not have a maintenance; if I do not correct my servant, he will be good for nothing.” For it is better to die with hunger, exempt from grief and fear, than to live in affluence with perturbation; and it is better your servant should be bad, than you unhappy.

Begin therefore from little things. Is a little oil spilt? A little wine stolen? Say to yourself, “This is the purchase paid for apathy, for tranquillity, and nothing is to be had for nothing.” And when you call your servant, consider it is possible he may not come to your call; or, if he doth, that he may not do what you would have him do. But he is by no means of such importance that it should be in his power to give you any disturbance.

13
If you would improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid with regard to externals. Do not wish to be thought to know anything; and though you should appear to be somebody to others, distrust yourself. For, be assured, it is not easy at once to preserve your faculty of choice in a state conformable to nature, and [to secure] externals; but while you are careful about the one, you must of necessity neglect the other.

14
If you wish your children, and your wife, and your friends to live for ever, you are stupid; for you wish things to be in your power which are not so, and what belongs to others to be your own. So likewise, if you wish your servant to be without fault, you are a fool; for you wish vice not to be vice, but something else. But, if you wish to have your desires undisappointed, this is in your own power. Exercise, therefore, what is in your power. He is the master of every other person who is able to confer or remove whatever that person wishes either to have or to avoid. Whoever, then, would be free, let him wish nothing, let him decline nothing which depends on others else he must necessarily be a slave. 

15
Remember that you must behave [in life] as at an entertainment. Is anything brought round to you? Put out your hand and take your share with moderation. Doth it pass by you? Do not stop it. Is it not yet come? Do not stretch forth your desire towards it, but wait till it reaches you. Thus do with regard to children, to a wife, to public posts, to riches, and you will be some time or other a worthy partner of the feasts of the gods. And if you do not so much as take the things which are set before you, but are able even to despise them, then you will not only be a partner of the feasts of the gods, but of their empire also. For, by thus doing, Diogenes and Heraclitus, and others like them, deservedly became, and were called, divine.

16
When you see any one weeping for grief, either that his son is gone abroad, or dead, or that he hath suffered in his affairs, take heed that the appear­ance may not hurry you away with it. But innnediately make the distinction within your own mind, and have it ready to say, “It is not the accident that distresses this person, for it doth not distress another man; but the judgment which he forms concerning it.” As far as words go, however, do not disdain to condescend to him, and even, if it should so happen, to groan with him. Take heed, however, not to groan inwardly too.

17
Remember that you are an actor in a drama, of such a kind as the author pleases to make it. If short, of a short one; if long, of a long one. If it be his pleasure you should act a poor man, a cripple, a governor, or a private person, see that you act it naturally. For this is your business, to act well the character assigned you; to choose it is another’s.

18
When a raven happens to croak unluckily, let not the appearance hurry you away with it, but immediately make the distinction to yourself, and say, “None of these things is portended to me; but either to my paltry body, or property, or reputation, or children, or wife. But to me all portents are lucky, if I will. For whichever of these things happens, it is in my power to derive advantage from it.”

19
You may be unconquerable, if you enter into no combat in which it is not in your own power to conquer. When, therefore, you see any one eminent in honors, or power, or in high esteem on any other account, take heed not to be hurried away with the appearance, and to pronounce him happy, for, if the essence of good consists in things in our own power, there will be no room for envy or emulation. But, for your part, do not wish to be a general, or a senator, or a consul, but to be free; and the only way to this is a contempt of things not in our own power.

20
Remember, that not he who gives ill language or a blow affronts, but the principle which represents these things as affronting. When, therefore, any one provokes you, be assured that it is your own opinion which provokes you. Try, therefore, in the first place, not to be hurried away with the appearance. For if you once gain time and respite, you will more easily command yourself.

21
Let death and exile, and all other things which appear terrible be daily before your eyes, but chiefly death, and you will never entertain any abject thought, nor too eagerly covet anything.

22
If you have an earnest desire of attaining to philosophy, prepare yourself from the very first to be laughed at, to be sneered by the multitude, to hear them say, “He is returned to us a philosopher all at once,” and “Whence this supercilious look?” Now, for your part, do not have a supercilious look indeed; but keep steadily to those things which appear best to you as one appointed by God to this station. For remember that, if you adhere to the same point, those very persons who at first ridiculed will afterwards admire you. But if you are conquered by them, you will incur a double ridicule.

23
If you ever happen to turn your attention to externals, so as to wish to please any one, be assured that you have ruined your scheme of life. Be contented,  being a philosopher; and, if you wish to be thought so likewise by any one, appear so to yourself, and it will suffice you.

24
Let not such considerations as these distress you. “I shall live in dishonor, and be nobody anywhere.” For, if dishonor is an evil, you can no more be involved in any evil by the means of another, than be engaged in anything base. Is it any business of yours, then, to get power, or to be admitted to an entertainment? By no means. How, then, after all, is this a dishonor? And how is it true that you will be nobody anywhere, when you ought to be somebody in those things only which are in your own power, in which you may be of the greatest consequence? “But my friends will be unassisted.” — What do you mean by unassisted? They will not have money from you, nor will you make them Roman citizens. Who told you, then, that these are among the things in our own power, and not the affair of others? And who can

give to another the things which he hath not himself? “Well, but get them, then, that we too may have a share.” If I can get them with the preservation of my own honor and fidelity and greatness of mind, show me the way and I will get them; but if you require me to lose my own proper good that you may gain what is no good, consider how unequitable and foolish you are. Besides, which would you rather have, a sum of money, or a friend of fidelity and honor? Rather assist me, then, to gain this character than require me to do those things by which I may lose it. Well, but my country, say you, as far as depends on me, will be unassisted. Here again, what assistance is this you mean? “It will not have porticoes nor baths of your providing.” And what signifies that? Why, neither doth a smith provide it with shoes, or a shoemaker with arms. It is enough if every one fully performs his own proper business. And were you to supply it with another citizen of honor and fidelity, would not he be of use to it? Yes. Therefore neither are you yourself useless to it. “What place, then, say you, shall I hold in the state?” Whatever you can hold with the preservation of your fidelity and honor. But if, by desiring to be useful to that, you lose these, of what use can you be to your country when you become faithless and void of shame?

25
Is any one preferred before you at an enter­tainment, or in a compliment, or in being admitted to a consultation? If these things are good, you ought to rejoice that he hath got them; and if they are evil, do not be grieved that you have not got them. And remember that you cannot, without using the same means [which others do] to acquire things not in our own power, expect to be thought worthy of an equal share of them. For how can he who doth not frequent the door of any [great] man, doth not attend him, doth not praise him, have an equal share with him who doth. You are unjust, then, and unsatiable, if you are unwilling to pay the price for which these things are sold, and would have them for nothing. For how much are lettuces sold? A halfpenny, for instance. If another, then, paying a halfpenny, takes the lettuces, and you, not paying it, go without them, do not imagine that he hath gained any advantage over you. For as he hath the lettuces, so you have the halfpenny which you did not give. So, in the present case, you have not been invited to such a person’s entertainment, because you have not paid him the price for which a supper is sold. It is sold for praise; it is sold for attendance. Give him then the value, if it be for your advantage. But if you would, at the same time, not pay the one and yet receive the other, you are unsatiable, and a block­head. Have you nothing, then, instead of the supper? Yes, indeed, you have; the not praising him, whom you do not like to praise; the not bearing with his behavior at coming in.

26
The will of nature may be learned from those things in which we do not differ from each other. As, when our neighbor’s boy hath broken a cup, or the like, we are presently ready to say, “These are things that will happen.” Be assured, then, that when your own cup likewise is broken, you ought to be affected just as when another’s cup was broken. Transfer this, in like manner, to greater things. Is the child or wife of another dead? There is no one who would not say, “This is a human accident.” But if any one’s own child happens to die·, it is present­ly, ‘Alas I how wretched am I!” But it should be
remembered how we are affected in hearing the same thing concerning others.

27
As a mark is not set up for the sake of missing the aim, so neither doth the nature of evil exist in the world.

28
If a person had delivered up your body to any one whom he met in his way, you would certainly be angry. And do you feel no shame in delivering up your own mind to be disconcerted and confounded by any one who happens to give you ill language?

29
-In every affair consider what precedes and follows, and then undertake it. Otherwise you will begin with spirit; but not having thought of the consequences, when some of them appear you will shamefully desist. “I would conquer at the Olympic games.” But consider what precedes and follows, and then, if it be for your advantage, engage in the affair. You must conform to rules, submit to a diet, refrain from dainties; exercise your body, whether you choose it or not, at a stated hour, in heat and cold; you must drink no cold water, nor sometimes even wine. In a word, you must give yourself up to your master, as to a physician. Then, in the combat, you may be thrown into a ditch, dislocate your arm, turn your ankle, swallow abundance of dust, be whipped, and, after all, lose the victory. When you have reckoned up all this, if your inclination still holds, set about the combat. Otherwise, take notice, you will behave like children, who sometimes play wrestlers, sometimes gladiators, sometimes blow a trumpet, and sometimes act a tragedy, when they happen to have seen and admired these shows. Thus you will be at one time a wrestler, at another a gladiator, now a philosopher, then an orator; but with your whole soul, nothing at all. Like an ape, you mimic all you see, and one thing after another is sure to please you, but is out of favor as soon as it becomes familiar. For you have never entered upon anything considerately, nor after having viewed the whole matter on all sides, or made any scrutiny into it, but rashly, and with a cold inclination. Thus some, when they have seen a philosopher and heard a man speaking like Euphrates (though, indeed, who can speak like him?), have a mind to be philosophers too. Consider first, man, what the matter is, and what your own nature is able to bear. If you would be a wrestler, consider your shoulders, your back, your thighs; for different persons are made for different things. Do you think that you can act as you do, and be a philosopher? That you can eat and drink, and be angry and discontented as you are now? You must watch, you must labor, you must get the better of certain appetites, must quit your acquaintance, be despised by your servant, be laughed at by those you meet; come off worse than others in everything, in magistracies, in honors, in courts of judicature. When you have considered all these things round, approach, if you please; if, by parting with them you have a mind to purchase apathy, freedom, and tran­quillity. If not, do not come hither; do not, like children,  be one while a philosopher,  then a publican, than an orator, and then one of Caesar’s officers. These things are not consistent. You must be one man, either good or bad. You must cultivate either your own ruling faculty or externals, and apply yourself either to things within or without you; that is, be either a philosopher, or one of the vulgar.

30
Duties are universally measured by relations. Is any one a father? In this are implied, as due, taking care of him, submitting to him in all things, patiently receiving his reproaches, his correction. But he is a bad father. Is your natural tie then to a good father? No; but to a father. Is a brother unjust? Well, preserve your own situation towards him. Consider not what he doth, but what you are to do to keep your own faculty of choice in a state conformable to nature. For another will not hurt you unless you please. You will then be hurt when you think you are hurt. In this manner, therefore, you will find, from the idea of a neighbor, a citizen, a general, the corresponding duties if you accustom yourself to contemplate the several relations.

31
Be assured that the essential property of piety towards the gods is to form right opinions concerning them, as existing and as governing the universe with goodness and justice. And fix yourself in this resolution, to obey them, and yield to them, and willingly follow them in all events, as produced by the most perfect understanding. For thus you will never find fault with the gods nor accuse them as neglecting you. And it is not possible for this to be effected any other way than by withdrawing your­self from things not in our own power, and placing good or evil in those only which are. For if you suppose any of the things not in our own power to be either good or evil, when you are disappointed of what you wish, or incur what you would avoid, you must necessarily find fault with and blame the authors. For every animal is naturally formed to flee and abhor things that appear hurtful, and the causes of them; and to pursue and admire those which

appear beneficial, and the causes of them. It is impracticable, then, that one who supposes himself to be hurt should rejoice in the person who, he thinks, hurts him, just as it is impossible to rejoice in the hurt itself. Hence, also, a father is reviled by a son, when he doth not impart to him the things which he takes to be good; and the supposing empire to be a good made Polynices and Eteocles mutually enemies. On this account the husbandman, the sailor, the merchant, on this account those who lose wives and children, revile the gods. For where interest is, there too is piety placed. So that, whoever is careful to regulate his desires and aversions as he ought, is, by the very same means, careful of piety likewise. But it is also incumbent on every one to offer libations and sacrifices the first fruits, conformably to the customs of his country, with purity, and not in a slovenly manner, nor negligent­ly, nor sparingly, nor beyond his ability.

32
When you have recourse to divination, remember that you know not what the event will be, and you come to learn it of the diviner; but of what nature it is you know before you come, at least if you are a philosopher. For if it is among the things not in our power, it can by no means be either good or evil. Do not, therefore, bring either desire or aversion with you to the diviner (else you will approach him trembling), but first acquire a distinct knowledge that every event is indifferent and nothing to you, of whatever sort it may be, for it will be in your power to make a right use of it, and this no one can hinder; then come with confidence to the gods, as your counsellors, and afterwards, when any counsel is given you, remember what counsellors you have assumed, and whose advice you will neglect if you disobey. Come to divination, as Socrates prescribed, in cases of which the whole consideration relates to the event, and in which no opportunities are afforded by reason, or any other art, to discover the thing proposed to be learned. When, therefore, it is our duty to share the danger of a friend or of our country, we ought not to consult the oracle whether we shall share it with them or not. For, though the diviner should forewarn you that the victims are unfavorable, this means no more than that either death or mutilation or exile is portended. But we have reason within us, and it directs, even with these hazards, to stand by our friend and our country. Attend, therefore, to the greater diviner, the Pythian god, who cast out of the temple the person who gave no assistance to his friend while another was murdering him.

33
Immediately prescribe some character and form [ of behavior] to yourself, which you may preserve both alone and in company.

Be for the most part silent, or speak merely what is necessary, and in few words. We may, however, enter, though sparingly, into discourse sometimes when occasion calls for it, but not on any of the common subjects, of gladiators, or horse races, or athletic champions, or feasts, the vulgar topics of conversation; but principally not of men, so as either to blame, or praise, or make compar­isons. If you are able, then, by your own conversa­tion bring over that of your company to proper subjects; but, if you happen to be taken among strangers, be silent.

Let not your laughter be much, nor on many occasions, nor profuse.

Avoid swearing, if possible, altogether; if not, as far as you are able.

Avoid public and vulgar entertainments; but, if ever an occasion calls you to them, keep your atten­tion upon the stretch, that you may not imperceptibly slide into vulgar manners. For be assured that if a person be ever so sound himself, yet, if his companion be infected, he who converses with him will be infected likewise.

Provide things relating to the body no further than mere use; as meat, drink, clothing, house, family. But strike off and reject everything relat­ing to show and delicacy.

As far as possible, before marriage, preserve yourself pure from familiarities with women, and, if you indulge them, let it be lawfully. But do not therefore be troublesome and full of reproofs to those who use these liberties, nor frequently boast that you yourself do not.

If any one tells you that such a person speaks ill of you, do not make excuses about what is said of you, but answer: “He doth not know my other faults, else he would not have mentioned only these.”

It is not necessary for you to appear often at public spectacles; but if ever there is a proper occasion for you to be there, do not appear more solicitous for any one than for yourself; that is, wish things to be only just as they are, and him only to conquer who is the conqueror, for thus you will meet with no hindrance. But abstain entirely from acclamations and derision and violent emotions. And when you come away, do not discourse a great deal on what hath passed, and what doth not contribute to your own amendment. For it would appear by such discourse that you were immoderately struck with the show.

Go not [of your own accord] to the rehearsals of any [authors], nor appear [at them] readily. But, if you do appear, preserve your gravity and sedateness, and at the same time avoid being morose.

When you are going to confer with any one, and particularly of those in a superior station, repre­sent to yourself how Socrates or Zeno would behave in such a case, and you will not be at a loss to make a proper use of whatever may occur.

When you are going to any of the people in power, represent to yourself that you will not find him at home; that you will not be admitted; that the doors will not be opened to you; that he will take no notice of you. If, with all this, it be your duty to go, bear what happens, and never say [to yourself], “It was not worth so much.” For this is vulgar, and like a man disconcerted by externals.

In parties of conversation, avoid a frequent and excessive mention of your own actions and dangers. For, however, agreeable it may be to yourself to mention the risks you have run, it is not equally agreeable to others to hear your adventures. Avoid, likewise, an endeavor to excite laughter. For this is a slippery point, which may throw you into vulgar manners, and, besides, may be apt to lessen you in the esteem of your acquaintance.

Approaches to indecent discourse are likewise dangerous. Whenever, therefore, anything of this sort happens, if there be a proper opportunity, rebuke him who makes advances that way; or, at least, by silence and blushing and a forbidding look, show yourself to be displeased by such talk.

34
If you are struck by the appearance of any promised pleasure, guard yourself against being hurried away by it; but let the affair wait your leisure, and procure yourself some delay. Then bring to your mind both points of time; that in which you shall enjoy the pleasure, and that in which you will repent and reproach yourself after you have enjoyed it; and set before you, in opposition to these, how you will rejoice and applaud yourself if you abstain. And even though it should appear to you a seasonable gratification, take heed that its enticing, and agreeable and attractive force may not subdue you; but set in opposition to this how much better it is to be conscious of having gained so great a victory.

35
When you do anything from a clear judgment that it ought to be done, never shun the being seen to do it, even though the world should make a wrong supposi­tion about it; for, if you do not act right, shun the action itself; but, if you do, why are you afraid of those who censure you wrongly?

36
As the proposition, Either it is day or it is night, is extremely proper for a disjunctive argu­ment, but quite improper in a conjunctive one, so, at a feast, to choose the largest share is very suitable to the bodily appetite, but utterly inconsistent with the social spirit of an entertainment. When you eat with another, then, remember not only the value of those things which are set before you to the body, but the value of that behavior which ought to be observed towards the person who gives the entertain­ment.

37
If you have assumed any character above your strength, you have both made an ill figure in that and quitted one which you might have supported.

38
As, in walking, you take care not to tread upon a nail or turn your foot, so likewise take care not to hurt the ruling faculty of your mind. And, if we were to guard against this in every action, we should undertake the action with the greater safety.

39
The body is to every one the measure of the possessions proper for it, as the foot is of the shoe. If, therefore, you stop at this, you will keep the measure; but if you move beyond it, you must necessarily be carried forward, as down a precipice; as in the case of a shoe, if you go beyond its fitness to the foot, it comes first to be gilded, then purple, and then studded with jewels. For to that which once exceeds a due measure, there is no bound.

40
Women from fourteen years old are flattered with the title of “mistresses” by the men. Therefore, perceiving that they are regarded only as qualified to give the men pleasure, they begin to adorn themselves, and in that to place all their hopes. It is worth while, therefore, to fix our attention on making them sensible that they are esteemed for nothing else but the appearance of a decent and modest and discreet behavior.

41
It is a mark of want of genius to spend much time in things relating to the body, as to be long in our exercises, in eating and drinking, and in the discharge of other animal functions. These should be done incidentally and slightly, and our whole atten­tion be engaged in the care of the understanding.

42
When any person doth ill by you, or speaks ill of you, remember that he acts or speaks from a supposition of its being his duty. Now, it is not possible that he should follow what appears right to you, but what appears so to himself. Therefore, if he judges from a wrong appearance, he is the person hurt, since he too is the person deceived. For if any one should suppose a true proposition to be false, the proposition is not hurt, but he who is deceived about it. Setting out, then, from these principles, you will meekly bear a person who reviles you, for you will say upon every occasion, “It seemed so to him.”

43
Everything hath two handles, the one by which it may be borne, the other by which it cannot. If your brother acts unjustly, do not lay hold on the action by the handle of his injustice, for by that it cannot be borne; but by the opposite, that he is your brother, that he was brought up with you; and thus you will lay hold on it, as it is to be borne.

44
These reasonings are unconnected: “I am richer than you, therefore I am better”; “I am more eloquent than you, therefore I am better.” The connection is rather this: “I am richer than you, therefore my property is greater than yours”; “I am more eloquent than you, therefore my style is better than yours.” But you, after all, are neither property nor style.

45
Doth any one bathe in a mighty little time? Do not say he doth it ill, but in a mighty little time. Doth any one drink a great quantity of wine? Do not say that he doth ill, but that he drinks a great quantity. For, unless you perfectly understand the principle [from which any one acts], how should you know if he acts ill? Thus you will not run the hazard of assenting to any appearances but such as you fully comprehend.

46
Never call yourself a philosopher, nor talk a great deal among the unlearned about theorems, but act conformably to them. Thus, at an entertainment, do not talk how persons ought to eat, but eat as you ought. For remember that in this manner Socrates also universally avoided all ostentation. And when persons came to him and desired to be recommended by him to philosophers, he took and recommended them, so well did he bear being overlooked. So that if ever any talk should happen among the unlearned concerning philosophic theorems, be you, for the most part, silent. For there is great danger in innnediately throwing out what you have not digested. And, if any one tells you that you know nothing, and you are not nettled at it, then you may be sure that you have begun your business. For sheep do not throw up the grass to show the shepherds how much they have eaten; but, inwardly digesting their food, they outwardly produce wool and milk. Thus, therefore, do you likewise not show theorems to the unlearned, but the actions produced by them after they have been digested.

47
When you have brought yourself to supply the necessities of your body at a small price, do not pique yourself upon it; nor, if you drink water, be saying upon every occasion, “I drink water.” But first consider how much more sparing and patient of hardship the poor are than we. But if at any time you would inure yourself by exercise to labor, and bearing hard trials, do it for your own sake, and not for the world; do not grasp statues, but, when you are violently thirsty; take a little cold water in your mouth, and spurt it out and tell nobody.

48
The condition and characteristic of a vulgar person, is, that he never expects either benefit or hurt from himself, but from externals. The condition and characteristic of a philosopher is, that he expects all hurt and benefit from himself. The marks of a proficient are, that he censures no one, praises no one, blames no one, accuses no one, says nothing concerning himself as being anybody, or knowing anything: when he is, in any instance, hindered or restrained, he accuses himself; and, if he is praised, he secretly laughs at the person who praises him; and, if he is censured, he makes no defence. But he goes about with the caution of infirm people [after sickness or an accident], dreading to move anything that is set right, before it is perfectly fixed. He suppresses all desire to himself; he transfers his aversion to those things only which thwart the proper use of our own faculty of choice; the exertion of his active powers towards anything is very gentle; if he appears stupid or ignorant, he doth not care, and, in a word, he watches himself as an enemy, and one in ambush.

49
When any one shows himself vain on being able to understand and interpret the works of Chrysippus, say to yourself, “Unless Chrysippus had written obscurely, this person would have had no subject for his vanity. But what do I desire? To understand nature and follow her. I ask, then, who interprets her, and, finding Chrysippus doth, I have recourse to him. I do not understand his writings. I seek, therefore, one to interpret them.” So far there is nothing to value myself upon. And when I find an interpreter, what remains is to make use of his instructions. This alone is the valuable thing. But, if I admire nothing but merely the interpretation, what do I become more than a grammarian instead of a philoso­pher?  Except indeed, that instead of Homer I interpret  When any one, therefore, desires me to read Chrysippus to him, I rather blush when I cannot show my actions agreeable and constant to his discourse.

50
Whatever rules you have deliberately proposed to yourself [for the conduct of life], abide by them as so many laws, and as if you would be guilty of impiety in transgressing any of them, and do not regard what any one says of you, for this, after all, is no concern of yours. How long, then, will you defer to think yourself worthy of the noblest improve­ments, and in no instance to transgress the distinctions of reason? ­You have received the philosophic theorems, with which you ought to be conversant, and you have been conversant with them. What other master, then, do you wait for, to throw upon the delay of reforming yourself? You are no longer a boy, but a grown man. If, therefore, you will be negligent and slothful, and always add procrastina­tion to procrastination, purpose to purpose, and fix day after day in which you will attend to yourself, you will insensibly continue without proficiency, and living and dying, persevere in being one of the vulgar. This instant, then, think yourself worthy of living as a man grown up, and a proficient. Let whatever appears to be the best be to you an inviol­able law. And if any instance of pain or pleasure, or glory or disgrace, be set before you, remember that now is the combat, now the Olympiad comes on, nor can it be put off; and that, by once being worsted and giving way, proficiency is lost, or [by the contrary] preserved. Thus Socrates became perfect, improving himself to everything, attending to nothing but reason. And though you are not yet a Socrates, you ought, however, to live as one desirous of becoming a Socrates.

51
The first and most necessary topic in philosophy is that of the use of [practical] theorems, as that, We ought not to lie; the second is that of demonstra­tions, as, Whence it is that we ought not to lie; and third, that which gives strength and articulation to the other two, as, Whence this is a demonstration. For what is demonstration? What is consequence? What contradiction? What truth? What falsehood? The third topic, then, is necessary on the account of the second, and the second on the account of the first. But the most necessary, and that whereon we ought to rest, is the first. But we act just on the contrary. For we spend all our time on the third topic, and employ all our diligence about that, and entirely neglect the first. Therefore, at the same time that we lie, we are mighty ready to show how it is demonstrated that lying is not right.

52
Upon all occasions we ought to have these maxims ready at hand:

“Conduct me, Jove, and thou, O Destiny, Wherever your decrees have fixed my station. I follow cheerfully; and, did I not, Wicked and wretched, I must follow still.”

“Whoe’ er yields properly to Fate, is deemed Wise among men, and knows the laws of heaven.”

And this third:

“O Crito, if it thus pleases the gods, thus let it be. Anytus and Melitus may kill me indeed, but hurt me they cannot.”