CLVII
IT IS the critical moment that shows the man. So when the crisis is upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched you with a rough and stalwart antagonist.—“To what end?” you ask. That you may prove the victor at the Great Games. Yet without toil and sweat this may not be!
CLVIII
IF THOU wouldst make progress, be content to seem foolish and void of understanding with respect to outward things. Care not to be thought to know anything. If any should make account of thee, distrust thyself.
CLIX
REMEMBER THAT in life thou shouldst order thy conduct as at a banquet. Has any dish that is being served reached thee? Stretch forth thy hand and help thyself modestly. Doth it pass thee by? Seek not to detain it. Has it not yet come? Send not forth thy desire to meet it, but wait until it reaches thee. Deal thus with children, thus with wife; thus with office, thus with wealth—and one day thou wilt be meet to share the Banquets of the Gods. But if thou dost not so much as touch that which is placed before thee, but despisest it, then shalt thou not only share the Banquets of the Gods, but their Empire also.
CLX
REMEMBER THAT thou art an actor in a play, and of such sort as the Author chooses, whether long or short. If it be his good pleasure to assign thee the part of a beggar, a ruler, or a simple citizen, thine it is to play it fitly. For thy business is to act the part assigned thee, well: to choose it, is another’s.
CLXI
KEEP DEATH and exile daily before thine eyes, with all else that men deem terrible, but more especially Death. Then wilt thou never think a mean thought, nor covet anything beyond measure.
CLXII
AS A mark is not set up in order to be missed, so neither is such a thing as natural evil produced in the World.
CLXIII
PIETY TOWARDS the Gods, be sure, consists chiefly in thinking rightly concerning them—that they are, and that they govern the Universe with goodness and justice; and that thou thyself art appointed to obey them, and to submit under all circumstances that arise; acquiescing cheerfully in whatever may happen, sure that it is brought to pass and accomplished by the most Perfect Understanding. Thus thou wilt never find fault with the Gods, nor charge them with neglecting thee.
CLXIV
LOSE NO time in setting before you a certain stamp of character and behaviour to observe both when by yourself and in company with others. Let silence be your general rule; or say only what is necessary and in few words. We shall, however, when occasion demands, enter into discourse sparingly, avoiding such common topics as gladiators, horseraces, athletes; and the perpetual talk about food and drink. Above all avoid speaking of persons, either in the way of praise or blame, or comparison.
If you can, win over the conversation of your company to what it should be by your own. But if you should find yourself cut off without escape among strangers and aliens, be silent.
CLXV
LAUGHTER SHOULD not be much, nor frequent, nor unrestrained.
CLXVI
REFUSE ALTOGETHER to take an oath if you can, if not, as far as may be.
CLXVII
BANQUETS OF the unlearned and of them that are without, avoid. But if you have occasion to take part in them, let not your attention be relaxed for a moment, lest you slip after all into evil ways. For you may rest assured that be a man ever so pure himself, he cannot escape defilement if his associates are impure.
CLXVIII
TAKE WHAT relates to the body as far as the bare use warrants—as meat, drink, raiment, house and servants. But all that makes for show and luxury reject.
CLXIX
IF YOU are told that such an one speaks ill of you, make no defence against what was said, but answer, He surely knew not my other faults, else he would not have mentioned these only!
CLXX
WHEN YOU visit any of those in power, bethink yourself that you will not find him in: that you may not be admitted: that the door may be shut in your face; that he may not concern himself about you. If with all this, it is your duty to go, bear what happens, and never say to yourself, It was not worth the trouble! For that would smack of the foolish and unlearned who suffer outward things to touch them.
CLXXI
IN COMPANY avoid frequent and undue talk about your own actions and dangers. However pleasant it may be to you to enlarge upon the risks you have run, others may not find such pleasure in listening to your adventures. Avoid provoking laughter also: it is a habit from which one easily slides into the ways of the foolish, and apt to diminish the respect which your neighbours feel for you. To border on coarse talk is also dangerous. On such occasions, if a convenient opportunity offer, rebuke the speaker. If not, at least by relapsing into silence, colouring, and looking annoyed, show that you are displeased with the subject.
CLXXII
WHEN YOU have decided that a thing ought to be done, and are doing it, never shun being seen doing it, even though the multitude should be likely to judge the matter amiss. For if you are not acting rightly, shun the act itself; if rightly, however, why fear misplaced censure?
CLXXIII
IT STAMPS a man of mean capacity to spend much time on the things of the body, as to be long over bodily exercises, long over eating, long over drinking, long over other bodily functions. Rather should these things take the second place, while all your care is directed to the understanding.
CLXXIV
EVERYTHING HAS two handles, one by which it may be borne, the other by which it may not. If your brother sin against you lay not hold of it by the handle of his injustice, for by that it may not be borne: but rather by this, that he is your brother, the comrade of your youth; and thus you will lay hold on it so that it may be borne.
CLXXV
NEVER CALL yourself a Philosopher nor talk much among the unlearned about Principles, but do that which follows from them. Thus at a banquet, do not discuss how people ought to eat; but eat as you ought. Remember that Socrates thus entirely avoided ostentation. Men would come to him desiring to be recommended to philosophers, and he would conduct them thither himself—so well did he bear being overlooked. Accordingly if any talk concerning principles should arise among the unlearned, be you for the most part silent. For you run great risk of spewing up what you have ill digested. And when a man tells you that you know nothing and you are not nettled at it, then you may be sure that you have begun the work.
CLXXVI
WHEN YOU have brought yourself to supply the needs of the body at small cost, do not pique yourself on that, nor if you drink only water, keep saying on each occasion, I drink water! And if you ever want to practise endurance and toil, do so unto yourself and not unto others—do not embrace statues!
CLXXVII
WHEN A man prides himself on being able to understand and interpret the writings of Chrysippus, say to yourself:—
If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this fellow would have had nothing to be proud of. But what is it that I desire? To understand Nature, and to follow her! Accordingly I ask who is the Interpreter. On hearing that it is Chrysippus, I go to him. But it seems I do not understand what he wrote. So I seek one to interpret that. So far there is nothing to pride myself upon. But when I have found my interpreter, what remains is to put in practice his instructions. This itself is the only thing to be proud of. But if I admire the interpretation and that alone, what else have I turned out but a mere commentator instead of a lover of wisdom?—except indeed that I happen to be interpreting Chrysippus instead of Homer. So when any one says to me, Prithee, read me Chrysippus, I am more inclined to blush, when I cannot show my deeds to be in harmony and accordance with his sayings.
CLXXVIII
AT FEASTS, remember that you are entertaining two guests, body and soul. What you give to the body, you presently, lose; what you give to the soul, you keep for ever.
CLXXIX
AT MEALS see to it that those who serve be not more in number than those who are served. It is absurd for
a crowd of persons to be dancing attendance on half a dozen chairs.
CLXXX
IT IS best to share with your attendants what is going forward, both in the labour of preparation and in the enjoyment of the feast itself. If such a thing be difficult at the time, recollect that you who are not weary are being served by those that are, you who are eating and drinking by those who do neither; you who are talking by those who are silent; you who are at ease by those who are under constraint. Thus no sudden wrath will betray you into unreasonable conduct, nor will you behave harshly by irritating another.
CLXXXI
WHEN XANTHIPPE was chiding Socrates for making scanty preparation for entertaining his friends, he answered:—“If they are friends of ours, they will not care for that; if they are not, we shall care nothing for them!”
CLXXXII
ASKED, Who is the rich man? Epictetus replied, “He who is content.”
CLXXXIII
FAVORINUS TELLS us how Epictetus would also say that there were two faults far graver and fouler than any others— inability to bear, and inability to forbear, when we neither patiently bear the blows that must be borne, nor abstain from the things and the pleasures we ought to abstain from. “So,” he went on, “if a man will only have these two words at heart, and heed them carefully by ruling and watching over himself, he will for the most part fall into no sin, and his life will be tranquil and serene.” He meant the words ’Aυέχoυ χat άπέχoυ—“BEAR AND FORBEAR.”
CLXXXIV
ON ALL occasions these thoughts should be at hand:—
Lead me, O God, and Thou, O Destiny,
Be what it may the goal appointed me,
Bravely I’ll follow; nay, and if I would not,
I’d prove a coward, yet must follow still!
Again:
Who to Necessity doth bow aright,
Is learn’d in wisdom and the things of God.
Once more:—
Crito, if this be God’s will, so let it be. As for me, Anytus and Mclitus can indeed put me to death, but injure me, never!
CLXXXV
WE SHALL then be like Socrates, when we can indite hymns of praise to the Gods in prison.
CLXXXVI
IT IS hard to combine and unite these two qualities, the carefulness of one who is affected by circumstances, and the intrepidity of one who heeds them not. But it is not impossible: else were happiness also impossible. We should act as we do in sea-faring.
“What can I do?”—Choose the master, the crew, the day, the opportunity. Then comes a sudden storm. What matters it to me? my part has been fully done. The matter is in the hands of another— the Master of the ship. The ship is foundering. What then have I to do? I do the only thing that remains to me—to be drowned without fear, without a cry, without upbraiding God, but knowing that what has been born must likewise perish. For I am not Eternity, but a human being,—a part of the whole, as an hour is part of the day. I must come like the hour, and like the hour must pass!
CLXXXVII
AND NOW we are sending you to Rome to spy out the land; but none send a coward as such a spy, that, if he hear but a noise and see a shadow moving anywhere, loses his wits and comes flying to say, The enemy are upon us!
So if you go now, and come and tell us: “Everything at Rome is terrible: Death is terrible, Exile is terrible, Slander is terrible, Want is terrible; Fly comrades! the enemy arc upon us! we shall reply, Get you gone, and prophesy to yourself! we have but erred in sending such a spy as you. Diogenes, who was sent as a spy long before you, brought us back another report than this. He says that Death is no evil; for it need not even bring shame with it. He says that Fame is but the empty noise of madmen. And what report did this spy bring us of Pain, what of Pleasure, what of Want? That to be clothed in sackcloth is better than any purple robe; that sleeping on the bare ground is the softest couch; and in proof of each assertion he points to his own courage, constancy, and freedom; to his own healthy and muscular frame. “There is no enemy near,” he cries, “all is perfect peace!”
CLXXXVIII
IF A man has this peace—not the peace proclaimed by Cæsar (how indeed should he have it to proclaim?) nay, but the peace proclaimed by God through reason, will not that suffice him when alone, when he beholds and reflects:—Now can no evil happen unto me; for me there is no robber, for me no earthquake; all things are full of peace, full of tranquillity; neither highway nor city nor gathering of men, neither neighbour nor comrade can do me hurt. Another supplies my food, whose care it is; another my raiment, another hath given me perceptions of sense and primary conceptions. And when He supplies my necessities no more, it is that He is sounding the retreat, that He hath opened the door, and is saying to thee, Come!—Whither? To nought that thou needest fear, but to the friendly kindred elements whence tho didst spring. Whatsoever of fire is in thee, unto fire shall return; whatsoever of earth, unto earth; of spirit, unto spirit; of water, unto water. There is no Hades, no fabled rivers of Sighs, of Lamentation, or of Fire: but all things are full of Beings spiritual and divine. With thoughts like these, beholding the Sun, Moon, and Stars, enjoying earth and sea, a man is neither helpless nor alone!
CLXXXIX
WHAT WOULDST thou be found doing when overtaken by Death? If I might choose, I would be found doing some deed of true humanity, of wide import, beneficent and noble. But if I may not be found engaged in aught so lofty, let me hope at least for this— what none may hinder, what is surely in my power—that I may be found raising up in myself that which had fallen; learning to deal more wisely with the things of sense; working out my own tranquillity, and thus rendering that which is its due to every relation of life. . . .
If death surprise me thus employed, it is enough if I can stretch forth my hands to God and say, “The faculties which I received at Thy hands for apprehending this thine Administration, I have not neglected. As far as in me lay, I have done Thee no dishonour. Behold how I have used the senses, the primary conceptions which Thou gavest me. Have I ever laid anything to Thy charge? Have I ever murmured at aught that came to pass, or wished it otherwise? Have I in anything transgressed the relations of life? For that Thou didst beget me, I thank Thee for that Thou hast given: for the time during which I have used the things that were Thine, it suffices me. Take them back and place them where-ever Thou wilt! They were all Thine, and Thou gavest them me.”—If a man depart thus minded, is it not enough? What life is fairer or more noble, what end happier than his?
(APPENDIX A)
FRAGMENTS
ATTRIBUTED TO EPICTETUS
I
A LIFE entangled with Fortune is like a torrent. It is turbulent and muddy; hard to pass and masterful of mood: noisy and of brief continuance.
II
THE SOUL that companies with Virtue is like an ever-flowing source. It is a pure, clear, and wholesome draught; sweet, rich, and generous of its store; that injures not, neither destroys.
III
IT IS a shame that one who sweetens his drink with the gifts of the bee, should embitter God’s gift Reason with vice.
IV
CROWS PICK out the eyes of the dead, when the dead have no longer need of them; but flatterers mar the soul of the living, and her eyes they blind.
V
KEEP NEITHER a blunt knife nor an ill-disciplined looseness of tongue.
VI
NATURE HATH given men one tongue but two ears, that we may hear from others twice as much as we speak.
VII
DO NOT give sentence in another tribunal till you have been yourself judged in the tribunal of Justice.
VIII
IT IS shameful for a Judge to be judged by others.
IX
GIVE ME by all means the shorter and nobler life, instead of one that is longer but of less account!
X
FREEDOM IS the name of virtue: Slavery, of vice. . . . None is a slave whose acts are free.
XI
OF PLEASURES, th
ose which occur most rarely give the most delight.
XII
EXCEED DUE measure, and the most delightful things become the least delightful.
XIII
THE ANGER of an ape—the threat of a flatterer:—these deserve equal regard.
XIV
CHASTISE THY passions that they avenge not themselves upon thee.
XV
NO MAN is free who is not master of himself.
XVI
A SHIP should not ride on a single anchor, nor life on a single hope.
XVII
FORTIFY THYSELF with contentment: that is an impregnable stronghold.
XVIII
NO MAN who is a lover of money, of pleasure, of glory, is likewise a lover of Men; but only he that is a lover of whatsoever things are fair and good.
XIX
THINK OF God more often than thou breathest.
XX
CHOOSE THE life that is noblest, for custom can make it sweet to thee.
XXI
LET THY speech of God be renewed day by day, aye, rather than thy meat and drink.
XXII
EVEN AS the Sun doth not wait for prayers and incantations to rise, but shines forth and is welcomed by all: so thou also wait not for clapping of hands and shouts and praise to do thy duty; nay, do good of thine own accord, and thou wilt be loved like the Sun.