[147] I mean, someone constrained by love to act against their better judgement, who sees the right thing to do but is powerless to act on it, might be considered the more deserving of compassion inasmuch as they are in the grip of a violent and, in some ways, a supernatural force. [148] But what sympathy can you expect with your passion for old men and women, as you wipe their nose and wash their face, ply them with presents and nurse them when they’re sick as if you are their slave – all the while praying for their death and pestering their doctors to find out if they are terminal yet or not. Or when you kiss the hands of other people’s slaves, making yourself the slave of slaves, all for the sake of these great and glorious honours and offices – what can you expect then?
[149] So don’t parade before me in your pride because you are a consul or a praetor – I know how you came by these offices, and who presented them to you. [150] Speaking for myself, I would rather be dead than owe my living to Felicio, having to put up with his airs and his typical slave’s impertinence. I know what a slave is like who has acquired influence and self-importance.
[151] ‘Are you free, then?’
By God I wish I were, and I pray to be; but I still can’t face my masters, I continue to value my poor body, I attach great importance to keeping healthy – though it isn’t healthy at all.16
[152] But I can show you a free man, to satisfy your desire for an exemplar. Diogenes17 – he was free. Why? Not because his parents were free (they weren’t), but because he himself was. He had eliminated any means to capture him, there was no opening to attack or seize him in order to make him a slave. [153] Everything he owned was disposable, and only temporarily attached. If you had seized any of his possessions, he would have surrendered it to you sooner than be pulled along behind it. If you had grabbed him by the leg, he would have given up the leg; if you had seized his entire body, the entire body would have been sacrificed. The same with family, friends and country: he knew where they had come from, from whom, and on what terms.
[154] His true parents, the gods – these he never would have dared sacrifice; nor his real country, the world at large. He yielded to no one in his zeal to serve and obey the gods, and there is no one who would have sooner died for his country. [155] He did not care for the mere appearance of acting on the world’s behalf; he constantly bore in mind that events all have their source there and happen for the sake of that universal homeland by the command of God, who governs it. Observe, therefore, what he personally says and writes: [156] ‘Here’s why, Diogenes, you are at liberty to speak your mind to the Persian king as well as to Archidamus, king of the Spartans.’18 [157] Is it because he was of freeborn parentage? Sure, and I suppose the reason all the citizens of Athens, Sparta and Corinth could not address them as they pleased, but feared and flattered them instead, was that their parents all were slaves. [158] So why did he enjoy this licence? ‘Because I don’t consider the body to be my own, because I lack for nothing, and because the law19 is the only thing I esteem, nothing else.’ That’s what enabled him to be free.
[159] And just so you don’t think I choose as my exemplar of freedom someone unencumbered by wife, children, friends, relatives and the demands of citizenship, factors that could make one bend and compromise, take for consideration Socrates, who had both wife and children, but as if they were on loan. He had a country, to the degree and in the manner called for; he had friends and relatives – but all these were subordinate to the law and the need to obey it.20
[160] And so, when he was drafted to serve, he was the first one to leave home, and once on the line fought without any regard for his life. Ordered by the tyrants to arrest Leon, he did not give a thought to obeying, because he thought the act unlawful, even knowing there was a chance he might die if he refused. [161] He didn’t care; it was not his skin he wanted to save, but the man of honour and integrity. These things are not open to compromise or negotiation.
[162] Later, when he had to defend himself at risk of his life, he did not comport himself like someone with a wife and children, but as someone alone and unattached. And how did he behave when it was time to drink the poison? [163] Given the opportunity to save himself, with Crito urging him to go into exile for his children’s sake, did he look upon this as the lucky pretext he needed to stay alive? Hardly. He reflected on the right thing to do, with no thought or regard for anything else. In his own words, he didn’t want to save the body, he wanted to preserve the element that grows and thrives with every act of justice, the element that is diminished and dies by injustice.21 [164] Socrates does not save his life at the cost of dishonour – Socrates, who resisted the Athenians’ call to bring an illegal motion to a vote,22 defied the tyrants, and spoke so memorably on the subject of virtue and character. Such a man is not saved with dishonour; [165] an honourable death, not flight, is his salvation. A good actor preserves his reputation not by speaking lines out of turn but by knowing when to talk – and when to keep quiet.
[166] So what will become of his children? ‘If I had run off to Thessaly, you would have cared for them. If I go to Hades, will no one be there to look after them?’ Note how he makes light of death, and sports with the idea of it. [167] If it had been you or I, we quickly would have rationalized our behaviour thus: ‘People who wrong us should be paid back in kind,’ not failing to add, ‘If my life is spared I will help many people, but dead I’m of no use to anyone.’ If we had to squeeze through a mousehole to escape, we would have done it. [168] But how could we then have helped anyone, with our friends still back in Athens?∗ If we had been helpful alive, wouldn’t we have done people much more good by accepting death in the appropriate time and manner? [169] Even now, long after Socrates’ death, the memory of what he did and said benefits humanity as much as or more than ever.
[170] Study this – these principles, these arguments – and contemplate these models of behaviour, if you want to be free, and your desire corresponds to the goal’s importance. [171] Don’t be surprised if so great a goal costs you many a sacrifice. For love of what they considered freedom men have hanged themselves, have thrown themselves over cliffs – and whole cities have occasionally been destroyed. [172] For true, inviolable, unassailable freedom, yield to God when he asks for something back that he earlier gave you. Prepare yourself, as Plato says,23 not just for death, but for torture, exile, flogging – and the loss of everything not belonging to you. [173] You will be a slave among slaves otherwise; even if you are a consul ten thousand times over, even if you make your residence on the Palatine,24 you will be a slave none the less.
And you’ll realize, as Cleanthes used to say, that what philosophers say may be contrary to expectation, but not to reason. [174] For you will learn by experience that it’s true: the things that men admire and work so hard to get prove useless to them once they’re theirs. Meanwhile people to whom such things are still denied come to imagine that everything good will be theirs if only they could acquire them. Then they get them: and their longing is unchanged, their anxiety is unchanged, their disgust is no less, and they still long for whatever is lacking. [175] Freedom is not achieved by satisfying desire, but by eliminating it. [176] Assure yourself of this by expending as much effort on these new ambitions as you did on those illusive goals: work day and night to attain a liberated frame of mind. [177] Instead of a rich old man, cultivate the company of a philosopher, be seen hanging around his door for a change. There’s no shame in the association, and you won’t go away unedified or empty-handed, provided you go with the right attitude. Try at least; there is no shame in making an honest effort.
IV 2 On social intercourse
[1] You should be especially careful when associating with one of your former friends or acquaintances not to sink to their level; otherwise you will lose yourself. [2] If you are troubled by the idea that ‘He’ll think I’m boring and won’t treat me the way he used to,’ remember that everything comes at a price. It isn’t possible to change your behaviour and still be the same person yo
u were before.
[3] So choose: either regain the love of your old friends by reverting to your former self or remain better than you once were and forfeit their affection. [4] And if you choose the latter, stick to it from here on out. Don’t give in to second thoughts, because no one who wavers will make progress. And if you are committed to making progress and ready to devote yourself to the effort, then give up everything else. [5] Otherwise your ambivalence will only ensure that you don’t make progress, and you won’t even get to revisit the pleasures of the past.
[6] Formerly, when you were devoted to worthless pursuits, your friends found you congenial company. [7] But you can’t be a hit in both roles. To the extent you cultivate one you will fall short in the other. You can’t seem as affable to your old cronies if you don’t go out drinking with them as of old. So choose whether you want to be a charming drunk in their company, or dull and sober on your own. You can’t expect the same reception from the group you used to associate with if you don’t go carousing with them regularly any more.
So again you have a choice: [8] if you value dignity and restraint over being called a ‘sport’ by your old mates, then forget other considerations, renounce them, walk away and have nothing more to do with that crowd. [9] If you don’t like that, then commit to the opposite course with all your heart. Join the louche set, become one of the degenerates – do as they do and indulge your every impulse and desire. Jump around and yell at a musical performance, what’s to stop you now?
[10] Such different roles don’t mix. You can’t play the part of both Thersites and Agamemnon. If you want to be Thersites, you should be bald and crippled. Agamemnon needs to be tall and handsome, and a leader with a genuine love for the people under his command.
IV 3 What to aim for in exchange for what
[1] If you forfeit an external possession, make sure to notice what you get in return. If it is something more valuable, never say, ‘I have suffered a loss.’ [2] It is no loss if you get a horse in return for an ass, cattle for sheep, a kind act for a little money, real peace in place of idle chatter, decency in exchange for vulgarity.
[3] Bear this in mind and you will everywhere preserve your proper character; forget it and I assure you that your time here will be a waste, and whatever care you are now expending on yourself will all go down the drain. [4] Very little is needed for everything to be upset and ruined, only a slight lapse in reason. [5] It’s much easier for a mariner to wreck his ship than it is for him to keep it sailing safely; all he has to do is head a little more upwind and disaster is instantaneous. In fact, he does not have to do anything: a momentary loss of attention will produce the same result.
[6] It’s much the same in our case. If you doze off, all your progress up to that point will be negated. [7] So keep a sharp eye on your impressions, and never fall asleep. It is no small thing that is being watched over, it equates with honesty, trustworthiness and stability. It is freedom from passion, grief, fear and consternation – it is freedom itself.
[8] What are you going to get when you trade your freedom away? Check to see what your proud new possessions will be worth.
‘But I won’t be getting anything like it in return.’
If you go ahead and get it anyway, consider again what you are getting for it. [9] ‘I have self-control, he has a tribuneship; he has a generalship, I have my honour. I don’t scream and yell when to do so would be rude; and I won’t jump up out of my seat where such behaviour would be out of place. I am free and a friend of God, whom I obey willingly. [10] I do not claim possession over anything that does not belong to me, not the body, not possessions, not power, not fame – nothing. Because God does not want me competing for such things. Had he wished it, he would have made them good for me. But he has not done that. And I must not ignore his orders.’
[11] Guard what is good for you always; make wise use of material things for as long as they are granted you to enjoy, and be content with virtue exclusively. Otherwise you will meet with bad luck, disappointment and frustration at every turn.
[12] These are the laws that have been sent to us from God, the directives you should be trying to learn – not the statutes of Cassius and Masurius.25
IV 4 To those intent on living quietly
[1] Remember, it isn’t just desire for power and money that makes a man humble and deferential towards others, but also desire for the opposite – for a life of peace and quiet, of travel and scholarship. It is a general rule that externals of any kind, if we attach importance to them, make us subject to somebody. [2] It makes no difference whether we wish to be a senator, or wish not to be one; whether we desire to have office, or to avoid it; whether we say, ‘I can’t do anything, unfortunately, I’m tied to my books like a stiff,’ or, ‘Sadly, I have no leisure for study.’ [3] A book is an external, just like office or public honours. [4] Why do you want to read anyway – for the sake of amusement or mere erudition? Those are poor, fatuous pretexts. Reading should serve the goal of attaining peace; if it doesn’t make you peaceful, what good is it?
[5] ‘But it does help with that – which is exactly why I regret being deprived of it.’
What kind of peace is this that is so easily shattered – not by the emperor or even by a friend of the emperor, but by a crow, a street musician, a cold, or a thousand other annoyances? True peace is characterized by nothing so much as steadiness and imperturbability.
[6] Now I am being called upon for some purpose. I answer the call determined to observe the right limits; to act with restraint, but also with confidence, devoid of desire or aversion towards externals. [7] At the same time I observe other people’s words and actions – not maliciously, in order to judge or ridicule them, but to better assess whether I engage in any of the same behaviour. ‘How should I stop, then?’ ‘Once I was liable to the same mistakes, but, thanks to God, no longer…’∗
[8] Well, isn’t it just as worthwhile to have devoted and applied yourself to this goal as to have read or written fifty pages? After all, when you are eating, you don’t wish you were reading, you are content to be eating in a manner consistent with the principles you learned from your reading; likewise when you bathe or exercise. [9] So be consistent in other respects – when you meet Caesar, or when you meet some random passer-by. If you keep yourself calm, poised and dignified, [10] if you observe rather than are observed, if you don’t envy people with greater success, don’t let externals disconcert you – if you do all this, what more do you need? [11] Books? Yes, but how, or for what purpose?
‘Isn’t reading a kind of preparation for life?’
But life is composed of things other than books. It is as if an athlete, on entering the stadium, were to complain that he’s not outside exercising. [12] This was the goal of your exercise, of your weights, your practice ring and your training partners. You want them now that the time to exploit them has arrived? [13] Or it’s as if, in the matter of assent, when faced with impressions, instead of distinguishing which ones are convincing and which are not, we prefer to read a book entitled On Comprehensive Impressions.
[14] So what accounts for such behaviour? The fact that our reading and our writing have never aimedat using inconformity with nature the impressions that we encounter in real life. Instead, it is enough for us to learn what is written on the topic and be able to explicate it before someone else; it is enough if we can analyse an argument or develop a hypothesis.
[15] Consequently, there is bound to be frustration when you exert yourself. You desire what is not in your control: fine, but be prepared to be refused, to be frustrated, to come up empty-handed. [16] If, on the other hand, we read books entitled On Impulse not just out of idle curiosity, but in order to exercise impulse correctly; books entitled On Desire and On Aversion so as not to fail to get what we desire or fall victim to what we would rather avoid; and books entitled On Moral Obligation in order to honour our relationships and never do anything that clashes or conflicts with this principle; [17] then we wouldn
’t get frustrated and grow impatient with our reading. Instead we would be satisfied to act accordingly. And rather than reckon, as we are used to doing, [18] ‘How many lines I read, or wrote, today,’ we would pass in review how ‘I applied impulse today the way the philosophers recommend, how I desisted from desire, and practised aversion only on matters that are under my control. I wasn’t flustered by A or angered by B; I was patient, restrained and cooperative.’ That way we will be able to thank God for things that we truly should be grateful for.
[19] As it is, though, we fail to realize how little we differ from the mass of men, the only difference being that they are afraid they will not hold office, while you are afraid you will. Don’t act that way; [20] if you must laugh at someone who is anxious that he won’t hold office, then laugh at yourself as well. Someone suffering from rabies and afraid of water is no better off than someone suffering from fever and ready to drain the ocean dry. [21] If you would dictate to circumstance, how can you emulate Socrates, who said, ‘If it pleases the gods, so be it’?
Do you think Socrates would have been as ready to serve on so many campaigns if he had longed to linger in the Academy or the Lyceum every day, conversing with young men? No, he would have groused and grumbled, ‘Hell, here I am in misery when I might be back in the Lyceum sunning myself.’ Is that your job, sunning yourself? [22] Isn’t it rather to be happy, unflappable and equal to every occasion? How could he have remained Socrates, had he yielded to disaffection? How would he have been the same man who wrote hymns of praise behind prison walls?26
[23] Just keep in mind: the more we value things outside our control, the less control we have. And among things outside our control is not only access to, but relief from, public office; not just work, but leisure too.