UC-NRLF 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
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 GIFT OF 
 
 PROFESSOR 
 LEON J. RICHARDSON 
 
LJ H \C H f) 7?DSoN 
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SELECTIONS 
 
 BY THE EDITOR OF "DAILY STRENGTH 
 FOR DAILY NEEDS." 
 
 QUIET HOURS. Poems of Religion and Nature. 
 First and Second Series. $1.00 each. Both series 
 in one volume, $1.50. 
 
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 Both in one, $1.00. 
 
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 Selections from Thomas a Kempls. 
 
 Selections from Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. 
 
 Selections from Epictetus. 
 
 The Wisdom of Jesus, the Son of Sirach ; 
 or, Ecclesiasticus. 
 
 The Wisdom of Solomon, and Other Selec- 
 tions from the Apocrypha. 
 
 Selections from John Tauler. 
 
 Selections from Fenelon. 
 
 Socrates [the Apology and Crito of Plato]. 
 
 Socrates [the Phaedo of Plato]. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Publishers, 
 BOSTON. 
 
^elections 
 
 FROM 
 
 EPICTETUS. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 Roberts <J5rot|>crK 
 
 1898. 
 
Copyright, 1877, 
 By Roberts Brothers. 
 
 GIFT 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
5R55 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THIS little volume, which contains about 
 one-fifth of the whole of Epictetus, is de- 
 signed to bring together the most useful and 
 striking passages in a form convenient for ready 
 use. It cannot give all the best in so small com- 
 pass, but those who miss favorite passages must 
 remember that it is difficult to choose where so 
 much is good, and yet so large a portion must 
 be rejected for want of space. The numbers in 
 parentheses at the beginning of the chapters re- 
 fer to the numbers of the original chapters. This 
 book is abridged from the translation of Mr. T. 
 W. Higginson, by his kind permission and that 
 of his publishers. I cannot do better than to 
 quote from his own preface. 
 
 "Epictetus was probably born at Hierapolis 
 in Phrygia, and he lived at Rome in the first 
 century of our era, as the slave of Epaphroditus, 
 a freedman of Nero. Origen preserves an an- 
 ecdote of Epictetus, that, when his master once 
 put his leg in the torture, his philosophic slave 
 
 836 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 quietly remarked, 'You will break my leg; 1 
 and, when this presently happened, he added, 
 in the same tone, ' Did I not tell you so ? ' He 
 afterwards became free, and lived very frugally 
 at Rome, teaching philosophy. Simplicius says 
 that the whole furniture of his house consisted 
 of a bed, a cooking- vessel, and an earthen lamp. 
 
 " When Domitian banished the philosophers 
 from Rome, Epictetus retired to Nicopolis, a 
 city of Epirus, where he taught as before, until 
 he was an old man. He still lived in the same 
 frugal way, his only companions being a young 
 child, whom he adopted, in the later years of his 
 life, because its parents abandoned it, and a 
 woman whom he employed as its nurse. He 
 suffered from extreme lameness. After Hadrian 
 oecame Emperor (a.d. 117), Epictetus was 
 treated with favor, but probably did not return 
 to Rome. In these later years of his life, his 
 discourses were written down by his disciple, 
 Arrian, a man of the highest character, both as 
 a philosopher and as an historian. But four of 
 the original eight books remain. The date of 
 Epictetus's death is entirely unknown." 
 
 M. W. T. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Cfje IBtscottrses of Eyittttu*. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 Chap. Pag* 
 
 I. Of what is in our own Power . . i 
 
 II. Of Priscus Helvidius 3 
 
 III. Of our descent from God .... 5 
 
 IV. What is Progress ? 6 
 
 V. Of Providence 9 
 
 VI. Of Nobility of Mind 12 
 
 VII. Of Contentment with Things that 
 
 are 15 
 
 VIII. Of Forbearance 17 
 
 IX. Of the Divine Supervision ... 18 
 
 X. What Philosophy promises . . . 19 
 
 XI. Concerning Providence 20 
 
 XII. Of being Unconquerable .... 22 
 
 XIII. Of Difficulties 24 
 
 XIV. Of Superiority to Fear of Death 25 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 Chap. Pagb 
 
 I. Of Learning and Doing 29 
 
 II. Of Tranquillity ........ 30 
 
 III. How Nobleness of Mind may be 
 
 consistent with Prudence ... 32 
 
 IV. Of Circumstances 34 
 
 V. In the Likeness of God 36 
 
 VI. The Duties of different relations 
 
 in Life 39 
 
 VII. The Will in Harmony with Events 42 
 
 VIII. Of Mistaken Impressions .... 46 
 
 IX. Of True Education 50 
 
 X. Of the Power of Habit 52 
 
 XL Of Inconsistency 55 
 
 XII. Of Friendship 59 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 I. The Divine Message ...... 62 
 
 II. Concerning those who plead Sick- 
 ness 63 
 
 III. Of the Semblances of Things . . 67 
 
 IV. What is Wealth? 68 
 
 V. How to bear Sickness 70 
 
 VI. What is Solitude? 73 
 
CONTENTS. Vll 
 Chap. Pack 
 
 VII. Of the Daily Life of a Philosopher 76 
 
 VIII. Gain from every thing .... 78 
 
 IX. Of the Cynic Philosophy. ... 80 
 X. That we ought not to be affected 
 
 BY THINGS NOT IN OUR OWN POWER 84 
 
 XI. Concerning those who are in 
 
 dread of Want 91 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 I. Of Freedom 96 
 
 II. Of Resignation to the Will of God 98 
 
 III. Of Complaisance 103 
 
 IV. Concerning those who desire a 
 
 Life of Repose 105 
 
 V. Of Good Will to Men no 
 
 VI. Of Fearlessness, and Humility . 112 
 
 VII. Of Preparation for Death . . . 115 
 
 VIII. Of Taking Pains 118 
 
 IX. Of being Communicative .... 120 
 
 The Enchiridion, or Manual 122 
 
 Fragments of Epictetus. From Stob^eus, 
 
 Antonius, and Maximus 140 
 
ARRIAN TO LUCIUS GELLIUS 
 WISHETH ALL HAPPINESS. 
 
 I NEITHER composed the Discourses of 
 Epictetus in such a manner as things 
 of this nature are commonly composed, nor 
 did I myself produce them to public view, 
 any more than I composed them. But 
 whatever sentiments I heard from his own 
 mouth, the very same I endeavored to set 
 down in the very same words, so far as pos- 
 sible, and to preserve as memorials for my 
 own use of his manner of thinking and 
 freedom of speech. 
 
 These Discourses are such as one per- 
 son would naturally deliver from his own 
 thoughts, extempore, to another ; not such as 
 he would prepare to be read by numbers 
 afterwards. Yet, notwithstanding this, I 
 cannot tell how, without either my consent 
 
X ARRIAN TO LUCIUS GELLIUS, ETC. 
 
 or knowledge, they have fallen into the 
 hands of the public. But it is of little con- 
 sequence to me, if I do not appear an able 
 writer, and of none to Epictetus, if any one 
 treats his Discourses with contempt; since 
 it was very evident, even when he uttered 
 them, that he aimed at nothing more than 
 to excite his hearers to virtue. If they pro- 
 duce that one effect, they have in them 
 what, I think, philosophical discourses ought 
 to have. And, should they fail of it, let the 
 readers however be assured that, when Epic- 
 tetus himself pronounced them, his audience 
 could not help being affected in the very 
 manner he intended they should. If by 
 themselves they have less efficacy, perhaps 
 it is my fault, or perhaps it is unavoidable. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
%\t tscourses of Epictetus* 
 
 BOOK I. 
 CHAPTER I. (i.) 
 
 OF WHAT IS IN OUR OWN POWER. 
 
 WHAT says Zeus ? " O Epictetus, if it 
 were possible, I had made this little 
 body and property of thine free, and not 
 liable to hindrance. But now do not mis- 
 take ; it is not thy own, but only a finer 
 mixture of clay. Since, then, I could not 
 give thee this, I have given thee a certain 
 portion of myself; this faculty of exerting 
 the powers of pursuit and avoidance, of 
 desire and aversion, and, in a word, the use 
 of the appearances of things. Taking care 
 of this point, and making what is thy own 
 to consist in this, thou wilt never be re- 
 strained, never be hindered ; thou wilt not 
 groan, wilt not complain, wilt not flatter any 
 
2 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 one. How then ! Do all these advantages 
 seem small to thee ? Heaven forbid ! Let 
 them suffice thee then, and thank the Gods." 
 
 When the weather doth not happen to 
 be fair for sailing, we sit in distress and 
 gaze out perpetually. 
 
 " Which way is the wind ? " 
 
 "North." 
 
 " What do we want of that ? When will 
 the West blow ? " 
 
 " When it pleases, friend, or when ^Eolus 
 pleases ; for Zeus has not made you dispen- 
 ser of the winds, but ^Eolus." 
 
 " What, then, is to be done ? " 
 
 "To make the best of what is in our 
 power, and to take the rest as it occurs." 
 
 " And how does it occur ? " 
 
 " As it pleases God." 
 
 I must die, and must I die groaning 
 too? Be fettered. Must I be lamenting 
 too ? Exiled. And what hinders me, 
 then, but that I may go smiling, and cheer- 
 ful, 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 Zeus himself can get 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 3 
 
 the better of my free-will. "I will throw 
 you into prison ; I will behead that paltry 
 body of yours." Did I ever tell you, that 
 1 alone had a head not liable to be cut off ? 
 These things ought philosophers to study ; 
 these ought they daily to write ; and in these 
 to exercise themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER II. (2.) 
 
 OF PRISCUS HELVIDIUS. 
 
 W THEN Vespasian had sent to Priscus 
 V V Helvidius to forbid his going to the 
 
 Senate, he answered, " It is in your power 
 
 to prevent my continuing a senator; but, 
 
 while I am one, I must go." 
 
 * Well, then, at least be silent there." 
 " Do not ask my opinion, and I will be 
 
 silent." 
 
 " But I must ask it." 
 
 " And I must speak what appears to me 
 
 to be right." 
 
 " But if you do, I will put you to death." 
 "When did I ever tell you that I was 
 
4 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 immortal ? You will do your part, and 1 
 mine ; it is yours to kill, and mine to die 
 intrepid ; yours to banish, mine to depart 
 untroubled." 
 
 What good, then, did Priscus do, who was 
 but a single person ? Why, what good does 
 the purple do to the garment ? * What but 
 to be beautiful in itself, and to set a good 
 example to the rest ? 
 
 Only consider at what price you sell your 
 own free will, O man ! if only that you may 
 not sell it for a trifle. The highest great- 
 ness and excellence perhaps seem to 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 my 
 gifts are humble, shall I neglect all care of 
 myself ? Heaven forbid ! Epictetus may 
 not surpass Socrates ; granted : but could 
 I overtake him, it might be enough for me. 
 I shall never be Milo, and yet I do not neg- 
 lect my body; nor Crcesus, and yet I do 
 not neglect my property ; nor should we 
 
 * An allusion to the purple border of the dress 
 of the Roman nobility. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 5 
 
 omit any effort, from a despair of arriving 
 at the highest. 
 
 CHAPTER III. (3.) 
 
 OF OUR DESCENT FROM GOD. 
 
 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 men and gods ; I conceive 
 he would never think of himself meanly or 
 ignobly. Suppose Caesar were to adopt you, 
 there would be no bearing your haughty 
 looks ; and will you not feel ennobled on 
 knowing yourself to be the son of God? 
 Yet, in fact, we are not ennobled. 
 
 But having two things united in our com- 
 position, a body in common with the brutes, 
 and reason in common with the gods, many 
 incline to this unhappy and mortal kindred, 
 and only some few to that which is happy 
 and divine. And as of necessity every one 
 must treat each particular thing according 
 to the notions he forms about it, so those 
 few who suppose that they are made for 
 
O THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 faith and honor and a wise use of things 
 will never think meanly or ignobly concern- 
 ing themselves. But with the multitude the 
 case is contrary ; " For what am I ? A poor 
 contemptible man, with this miserable flesh 
 of mine?" Miserable indeed. But you 
 have likewise something better than this 
 poor flesh. Why, then, overlooking that, 
 do you pine away in attention to this ? 
 
 CHAPTER IV. (4.) 
 
 WHAT IS PROGRESS? 
 
 WHERE doth your work lie ? In learn- 
 ing what to seek and what to shun, 
 that you may neither be disappointed of the 
 one, nor incur the other ; in practising how to 
 pursue and how to avoid, that you may not be 
 liable to fail ; in practising intellectual assent 
 and doubt, that you may not be liable to be 
 deceived. These are the first and most nec- 
 essary things. But if you merely seek, in 
 trembling and lamentation, to keep away all 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. J 
 
 possible ills, what real progress have you 
 made ? 
 
 Never make your life to consist in one 
 thing, and yet seek progress in another. 
 
 Where is progress, then ? 
 
 If any of you, withdrawing himself from 
 externals, turns to his own will, to train and 
 perfect, and render it conformable to na- 
 ture ; noble, free, unrestrained, unhindered, 
 faithful, humble ; if he hath learnt, too, that 
 whoever desires or shuns things beyond his 
 own power, can neither be faithful nor free, 
 but must necessarily take his chance with 
 them, must necessarily, too, be subject to 
 others, to such as can procure or prevent 
 what he desires or shuns ; if, rising in the 
 morning, he observes and keeps to these 
 rules ; bathes regularly, eats frugally ; and 
 to every subject of action applies the same 
 fixed principles, if a racer to racing, if an 
 orator 'to oratory : this is he who truly makes 
 progress ; this is he who hath not labored in 
 vain. 
 
 The only real thing is, to study how to 
 rid life of lamentation and complaint, and 
 Alas 1 and I am undone, and misfortune and 
 failure ; and to learn what death, what exile, 
 
8 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 what a 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 gray hairs for this ? " 
 Of what service, then, is Chrysippus * to 
 us ? To teach you that those things are not 
 false on which true prosperity and peace 
 depend. " Take my books, and you will see 
 how true and conformable to nature those 
 things are which give me peace." How 
 great a happiness ! And how great the 
 benefactor who shows the way ! To Trip- 
 tolemus t all men have raised temples and 
 altars, because he gave us a milder kind of 
 food ; but to him who hath discovered and 
 brought to light and communicated the truth 
 to all ; the means, not of living merely, but 
 of living well ; who among you ever raised 
 an altar or a temple, or dedicated a statue, 
 or who worships God in his name? We 
 offer sacrifices in memory of those who have 
 
 * Chrysippus was regarded as the highest author- 
 ity among the later Stoics. 
 
 t Triptolemus was said to have introduced agri- 
 culture and vegetable food among men, under the 
 guidance of Ceres. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 9 
 
 given us corn and the vine ; and shall we 
 not give thanks to God for those who have 
 nurtured such fruit in the human breast; 
 even the truth which makes us blessed ? 
 
 CHAPTER V. (6, 8.) 
 
 OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 FROM every event that happens in the 
 world it is easy to celebrate Provi- 
 dence, if a person hath but these two qual- 
 ities 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. 
 
 You take a journey to Olympia to behold 
 the work of Phidias, and each of you thinks 
 it a misfortune to die without a knowledge 
 of such things ; and will you have no incli- 
 nation to see and understand those works 
 for which there is no need to take a journey ; 
 but which are ready and at hand, even to 
 
IO THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 those who bestow no pains ! Will you never 
 perceive what you are, or for what you were 
 born, or for what purpose you are admitted 
 to behold this spectacle ? 
 
 But there are in life some things unpleas- 
 ant and difficult 
 
 And are there none at Olympia? Are 
 not you heated ? Are not you crowded ? 
 Are not you without good conveniences for 
 bathing ? Are not you wet through, when it 
 happens to rain ? Do you not have uproar 
 and noise and other disagreeable circum- 
 stances ? But I suppose, by comparing all 
 these with the merit of the spectacle, you 
 support and endure them. 
 
 Well ; and have you not received faculties 
 by which you may support every event ? 
 Have you not received greatness of soul ? 
 Have you not received a manly spirit? 
 Have you not received patience ? What 
 signifies to me any thing that happens, while 
 my soul is above it? What shall disconcert 
 or trouble or appear grievous to me ? Shall 
 I not use my powers to that purpose for 
 which I received them ; but lament and 
 groan at every casualty ? 
 
 Do you consider the faculties you have 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. II 
 
 and, after taking a view of them, say, " Bring 
 on me now, O Zeus, what difficulty thou 
 wilt, for I have faculties granted me by thee, 
 and powers by which I may win honor from 
 every event." No ; but you sit trembling, 
 for fear this or that should happen, and 
 lamenting and mourning, and groaning at 
 what doth happen ; and then you accuse the 
 gods. For what is the consequence of such 
 a baseness but impiety ? And yet God hath 
 not only granted these faculties, by which 
 we may bear every event, without being de- 
 pressed or broken by it ; but, like a good 
 prince and a true father, hath placed their 
 exercise above restraint, compulsion, or 
 hindrance, and wholly within our own con- 
 trol ; nor hath he reserved a power, even to 
 himself, of hindering or restraining them. 
 
 Having these things free, and your own, 
 will you not use them, nor consider what 
 you have received, nor from whom ? But 
 you sit groaning and lamenting, some of 
 you, blind to him who gave them, and not 
 acknowledging your benefactor ; and others 
 basely turn themselves to complaints and 
 accusations against God ! Yet I undertake 
 to show you, that you have means and pew- 
 
12 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 ers to exhibit greatness of soul and a manly 
 spirit ; but what occasion you have to find 
 fault and complain, do you show me, if you 
 can. 
 
 If you ask me, what is the good of man; 
 I know not where it lies, save in dealing 
 wisely with the phenomena of existence. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. (9.) 
 
 OF NOBILITY OF MIND. 
 
 SHALL kinship 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 guar- 
 dian free us from griefs and alarms ? 
 
 One would think that you would need an 
 instructor, not to guard you from thinking 
 too meanly or ignobly of yourselves ; but 
 that his business would be to take care, lest 
 there be young men of such a spirit that, 
 knowing their affinity to the gods, and that 
 we are, as it were, fettered by the body and 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 1 3 
 
 its possessions, and by so many other things 
 as are thus made needful for the daily pur- 
 suits of life, they should resolve to throw 
 them all off, as both troublesome and use- 
 less, and depart to their divine kindred. 
 
 This is the work, if any, that ought to em- 
 ploy 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 poor body ; feeding and 
 resting, and cleaning it, and vexed with so 
 many low cares on its account. Are not 
 these things indifferent and nothing to us ; 
 and death no evil? Are we not of kindred 
 to 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 bind and weigh us 
 down. Here thieves and robbers, courts 
 and tyrants, claim power over us through 
 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 at this post, 
 
14 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 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 court can be for- 
 midable to those who thus count for nothing 
 the body and its possessions ? Stay, nor 
 foolishly depart." 
 
 Thus ought the case to stand between 
 a preceptor and ingenuous young men. 
 But how stands it now ? The preceptor has 
 no life in him ; and you have none. When 
 you have had enough to-day, you sit weep- 
 ing about to-morrow, how you shall get 
 food. Why, if you have it, slave, you will 
 have it ; if not, you will go out of life. Why 
 do you lament? What room remains for 
 tears ; what occasion for flattery ? Why 
 should any one person envy another ? Why 
 should he be impressed with awe by those 
 who have great possessions, or are placed in 
 high rank, especially if they are powerful 
 and passionate ? For what will they do to 
 us ? The things which they can do, we do 
 not regard ; the things about which we are 
 concerned, they cannot reach. 
 
 Who then, after all, shall hold sway over 
 a person thus disposed ? How behaved 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 1 5 
 
 Socrates in regard to these things ? As it 
 became one conscious of kinship with the 
 ^ods. He said to his judges : 
 
 " If you should tell me, * We will acquit 
 fou, upon condition that you shall no longer 
 discourse in the manner you have hitherto 
 done, nor make any disturbance, either 
 among our young or our old people ;' I 
 would answer : i You are ridiculous in think- 
 ing that, if your general had placed me in 
 any post, I ought to maintain and defend it, 
 and choose to die a thousand times, rather 
 than desert it; but that, if God hath as- 
 signed me any station or method of life, I 
 ought to desert that for you.' " 
 
 CHAPTER VII. (12.) 
 
 OF CONTENTMENT WITH THINGS THAT ARE. 
 
 TRUE instruction is this, learning to 
 desire 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 
 
1 6 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTE1U3. 
 
 summer and winter, plenty and dearth, vir- 
 tue and vice, and such contrarieties, for the 
 harmony of the whole. To each of us he 
 has given a body and its parts, and our sev- 
 eral possessions and companions. Mindful 
 of this appointment, we should enter upon a 
 course of education and instruction, not in 
 order to change the constitution of things ; 
 
 a gift n nther practicable nor desirable ; 
 
 but that things being as they are with 
 regard to us, we may have our mind accom- 
 modated to the facts. 
 
 " What, then, must my leg be lame ? " 
 And is it for one paltry leg, wretch, that 
 you accuse the universe ? Can you not 
 forego that, in consideration of the whole ? 
 Can you not give up something ? Can you 
 not gladly yield it to him who gave it ? 
 And will you be angry and discontented 
 with the decrees of Zeus ; which he, with 
 the Fates, who spun in his presence the 
 thread of your birth, ordained and appoint- 
 ed? Do not you know how very small a 
 part you are of the whole ? That is, as to 
 body ; for, as to reason, you are neither 
 worse, nor less, than divine. For reason is 
 not measured by size or height, but by prin- 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. \J 
 
 ciples. Will you not, therefore, place your 
 good there, where you share with the 
 gods ? 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. (13.) 
 
 OF FORBEARANCE. 
 
 WHEN a person inquired, how any one 
 might eat to the divine acceptance 
 if he eats with justice, said Epictetus, and 
 with gratitude, and fairly, and temperately, 
 and decently, must he not also eat to the 
 divine acceptance? And if you' call for hot 
 water, and your servant does not hear you \ 
 or, if he does, brings it only warm ; or, per- 
 haps, is not to be found at home ; then to 
 abstain from anger or petulance, is not this 
 to the divine acceptance ? 
 
 " But how, then, can one bear such 
 things ? " 
 
 O slavish man ! will you not bear with 
 
 your own brother, who has God for his 
 
 Father, as being a son from the same 
 
 stock, and of the same high descent ? 
 
 3 
 
1 8 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 But if you chance to be placed in some 
 superior station, will you presently set your- 
 self up for a tyrant ? Will you not remem- 
 ber what you are, and over whom you bear 
 rule? That they are by nature your rela- 
 tions, your brothers ; that they are the off- 
 spring of God ? 
 
 CHAPTER IX. (14.) 
 
 OF THE DIVINE SUPERVISION. 
 
 ZEUS has assigned to each man a direc- 
 tor, his own good genius, and commit- 
 ted him to that guardianship ; a director 
 sleepless and not to be deceived. So that 
 when you have shut your doors, and dark- 
 ened your room, remember, never to say 
 that you are alone, for you are not alone ; 
 but God is within, and your genius is within ; 
 and what need have they of light, to see 
 what you are doing? To this God you, 
 likewise, ought to swear such an oath as the 
 soldiers do to Caesar. For they, in order 
 to receive their pay, swear to prefer before 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 1 9 
 
 all things the safety of Caesar j and will not 
 you swear, who have received so many and 
 so great favors ; or, if you have sworn, will 
 you not fulfil the oath ? 
 
 And what must you swear? Never to 
 distrust, nor accuse, nor murmur at any of 
 the things appointed by him ; nor to shrink 
 from doing or enduring that which is inevi- 
 table. Is this oath like the former ? In the 
 first oath, persons swear never to dishonoi 
 Caesar ; by the last, never to dishonor them- 
 selves. 
 
 CHAPTER X. (15.) 
 
 WHAT PHILOSOPHY PROMISES. 
 
 WHEN one consulted him how he 
 might persuade his brother to for- 
 bear treating him ill; Philosophy, an- 
 swered Epictetus, doth not promise any out- 
 ward good for man \ otherwise, it would 
 admit something beyond its proper theme. 
 For as the material of a carpenter is wood ; 
 of a statuary, brass : so of the art of living, 
 Vhe material is each man's own life. 
 
20 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 " What, then, is my brother's life ? " 
 
 That, again, is matter for his own art, but h 
 external to you ; like property, health, or rep- 
 utation. Philosophy promises none of these. 
 In every circumstance I will keep my will in 
 harmony with nature. To whom belongs 
 that will ? To him in whom I exist. 
 
 " But how, then, is my brother's unkind- 
 ness to be cured ? " 
 
 Bring him to me, and I will tell him ; but 
 I have nothing to say to you about his ur- 
 kindness. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. (16.) 
 
 CONCERNING PROVIDENCE. 
 
 ANY one thing in the creation is suffi- 
 cient to demonstrate a Providence to 
 a humble and grateful mind. 
 
 If we had any understanding, ought we 
 not, both in public and in private, inces- 
 santly to sing and praise the Deity, and 
 rehearse his benefits ? Ought we not, 
 whether we dig, or plough, or eat, to sing 
 this hymn to God? "Great is God, who 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 21 
 
 has supplied us with these instruments to 
 till the ground ; great is God, who has given 
 us hands and organs of digestion ; who has 
 given us to grow insensibly, to breathe in 
 sleep." 
 
 These things we ought for ever to cele- 
 brate ; but to make it the theme of the 
 greatest and divinest hymn, that he has 
 given us the power to appreciate these gifts, 
 and to use them well. But because the 
 most of you are blind and insensible, there 
 must be some one to fill this station, and 
 lead in behalf of all men, the hymn to God ; 
 for what else can I do, a lame old man, but 
 sing hymns to God ? Were I a nightingale, 
 I would act the part of a nightingale ; were 
 I a swan, the part of a swan. But, since I 
 am a reasonable creature, it is my duty to 
 praise God. This is my business. I do it. 
 Nor will I ever desert this post, so long as 
 it is permitted me ; and I call on you to 
 join in the same song. 
 
22 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. (18,22.) 
 
 OF BEING UNCONQUERABLE. 
 
 PRACTISE yourself, for heaven's sake, 
 in little things ; and thence proceed to 
 greater, "I have a pain in my head." 
 Do not lament. " I have a pain in my ear." 
 Do not lament. I do not say you may never 
 groan : but do not groan in spirit ; or, if 
 your servant be a long while in bringing 
 you something to bind your head, do not 
 croak and go into hysterics, and say, " Ev- 
 erybody hates me." For who would not 
 hate such a one ? 
 
 Relying for the future on these principles, 
 walk erect and free ; not trusting to bulk of 
 body, like a wrestler ; for one should not 
 be unconquerable in the sense that an ass is. 
 
 Who, then, is unconquerable ? He whom 
 the inevitable cannot overcome. For such 
 a person I imagine every trial, and watch 
 him as an athlete in each. He has been 
 victorious in the first encounter. What will 
 he do in the second ? What, if he should 
 be exhausted by the heat? What, if the 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 23 
 
 field be Olympia ? And so in other trials. 
 If you throw money in his way, he will 
 despise it. Is he proof against the seduc- 
 tions of women ? What if he be tested by 
 fame, by calumny, by praise, by death ? 
 He is able to overcome them all. If he can 
 bear sunshine and storm, discouragement 
 and fatigue, I pronounce him an athlets 
 unconquered indeed. 
 
 I am naturally led to seek my own highest 
 good. If, therefore, it is my highest good 
 to have an estate, it is for my good like- 
 wise to take it away from my neighbor. If 
 it is my highest good to have a suit of 
 clothes, it is for my good likewise to steal it 
 wherever I find it. Hence wars, sedition, 
 tyranny, unjust invasions. How shall I, 
 if this be the case, be able any longer to 
 do my duty towards Zeus ? If I suffer 
 evil, and am disappointed, he takes no care 
 of me. And what is he to me, if he cannot 
 help me ; or, again, what is he to me, if he 
 chooses I should be in the condition that 
 I am? 
 
24 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. (24.) 
 
 OF DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES are things that show 
 what men are. For the future, in 
 case of any difficulty, remember that God, 
 like a gymnastic trainer, has pitted you 
 against a rough antagonist. For what end ? 
 That you may be an Olympic conqueror; 
 and this cannot be without toil. No man, 
 in my opinion, has a more profitable diffi- 
 culty on his hands than you have ; provided 
 you will but use it, as an athletic champion 
 uses his antagonist. 
 
 Suppose we were to send you as a scout 
 to Rome. But no one ever sends a timor- 
 ous scout, who, when he only hears a noise, 
 or sees a shadow, runs back frightened, and 
 says, " The enemy is at hand." So now, if 
 you should come and tell us : " Things are 
 in a fearful way at Rome ; death is terrible, 
 calumny terrible, poverty terrible ; run, good 
 people, the enemy is at hand;" we will 
 answer: Get you gone, and prophesy for 
 yourself ; our only fault is, that we have 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 25 
 
 sent such a scout. Diogenes was sent a 
 scout before you, but he told us other tid- 
 ings. He says that death is no evil, for it 
 is nothing base ; that calumny is only the 
 noise of madmen. And what account did 
 this spy give us of pain, of pleasure, of pov- 
 erty ? He says, that to be naked is better 
 than a purple robe ; to sleep upon the bare 
 ground, the softest bed ; and gives a proof 
 of all he says by his own courage, tranquil- 
 lity and freedom ; and, moreover, by a 
 healthy and robust body. "There is no 
 enemy near," he says. "All is profound 
 peace." How so, Diogenes ? " Look upon 
 me," he says. " Am I hurt ? Am I wound- 
 ed ? Have I run away from any one ? " 
 This is a scout worth having. But you 
 come and tell us one thing after another. 
 Go back and look more carefully, and 
 without fear. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. (27, 29, 30.) 
 
 OF SUPERIORITY TO FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 Y 
 
 OU hear the vulgar say, " Such a one, 
 poor soul ! is dead." Well, his father 
 
26 THE DISCOURSES OF EFICTETU3. 
 
 died ; his mother died. " Ay, but he was 
 cut off in the flower of his age, and in a for- 
 eign land." Observe these ways of speak- 
 ing ; and abandon such expressions. Op- 
 pose to one custom a contrary custom ; to 
 sophistry the art of reasoning, and the fre- 
 quent use and exercise of it. Against 
 specious appearances we must set clear 
 convictions, bright and ready for use. 
 When death appears as an evil, we ought 
 immediately to remember that evils are 
 things to be avoided, but death is inevi- 
 table. 
 
 Whither shall I fly from death ? Show 
 me the place, show me the people, to whom 
 I may have recourse, whom death does not 
 overtake. Show me the charm to avoid it. 
 If there be none, what would you have me 
 do ? I cannot escape death ; but cannot I 
 escape the dread of it ? Must I die trem- 
 bling and lamenting? 
 
 Show me that he who has the worse prin- 
 ciples can get the advantage over him who 
 has the better. You never will show it, nor 
 any thing like it ; for the Law of Nature 
 and of God is this, let the better always 
 prevail over the worse. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 2J 
 
 " In what ? " 
 
 In that wherein it is better. One body 
 may be stronger than another ; many, than 
 one ; and a thief, than one who is not a 
 thief. Thus I, for instance, lost my lamp ; 
 because the thief was better at keeping 
 awake than I. But for that lamp he paid 
 the price of becoming a thief ; for that lamp 
 he lost his virtue, and became like a wild 
 beast. This seemed to him a good bargain ; 
 and so let it be ! 
 
 When children come to us clapping their 
 hands, and saying, " To-morrow is the good 
 feast of Saturn ; " do we tell them that good 
 doth not consist in such things? By no 
 means ; but we clap our hands also. Thus, 
 when you are unable to convince any one, 
 consider him as a child, and clap your hands 
 with him ; or, if you will not do that, at least 
 hold your tongue. 
 
 This is not the contest I would choose, 
 say you. Is it in your power, then, to make 
 the selection ? Such a body is given you 
 such parents, such brothers, such a country, 
 and such a rank in it ; and then you come 
 to me to change the conditions ! Have you 
 not abilities to manage that which is givec 
 
28 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 you ? You should say to me, " It is you? 
 business to propose ; mine, to treat the sub- 
 ject well." No ; but you say, " Do not 
 meet me with such a perplexity, but such a 
 one ; do not offer such an obstacle to me, 
 but such a one." 
 
 " In what character do you now appear ? " 
 As a witness summoned by God. " Come 
 you, then, and bear witness for me ; for you 
 are a fit witness to be produced by me. Is 
 any thing which is inevitable, to be classed 
 as either good or evil ? Do I hurt any one ? 
 Have I made the good of each individual 
 to rest on any one but himself ? What evi- 
 dence do you give for God ? " 
 
 " I am in a miserable condition, O Lord ; 
 I am undone ; no mortal cares for me ; no 
 mortal gives me any thing ; all blame me ; 
 all speak ill of me." 
 
 Is this the evidence you are to give? 
 And will you bring disgrace upon his sum- 
 mons, who hath conferred such an honor 
 upon you, and thought you worthy of being 
 produced as a witness in such a cause ? 
 
 When you are going before any of the 
 great, remember that there is another, who 
 sees from above what passes, and whom 
 you ought to please, rather than man. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 29 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. (i.) 
 
 OF LEARNING AND DOING. 
 
 " TI)R AY > see how I compose dialogues." 
 Ji Talk not of that, man, but rather 
 be able to say, See how I accomplish my 
 purposes ; see how I avert what I wish to 
 shun. Set death before me ; set pain, a 
 prison, disgrace, doom, and you will know 
 me. This should be the pride of a young 
 man come out from the schools. Leave the 
 rest to others. Let no one ever hear you 
 waste a word upon them, nor suffer it, if 
 any one commends you for them ; but admit 
 that you are nobody, and that you know 
 nothing. Appear to know only this, nevet 
 to fail nor fall. Let others study cases, prob- 
 lems, and syllogisms. Do you rather con- 
 template death, change, torture, exile ; and 
 all these with courage, and reliance upor* 
 
30 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 Him who hath called you to them, and 
 judged you worthy a post in which you may 
 show what reason can do when it encoun- 
 ters the inevitable. 
 
 CHAPTER II. (2.) 
 
 OF TRANQUILLITY. 
 
 CONSIDER, you who are going to take 
 your trial, what you wish to preserve, 
 and in what to succeed. For if you wish to 
 preserve a will in harmony with nature, you 
 are entirely safe ; every thing goes well ; 
 you have no trouble on your hands. While 
 you wish to preserve that freedom which 
 belongs to you, and are contented with that, 
 for what have you longer to be anxious ? 
 For who is the master of things like these ? 
 Who can take them away ? If you wish to 
 be a man of modesty and fidelity, who shall 
 prevent you? If you wish not to be re- 
 strained or compelled, who shall compe 
 you to desires contrary to your principles 
 to aversions, contrary to your opinion ? 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 3 1 
 
 The judge perhaps will pass a sentence 
 against you which he thinks formidable \ 
 but can he likewise make you receive it 
 with shrinking ? Since, then, desire and 
 aversion are in your own power, for what 
 have you to be anxious ? Let this be your 
 introduction ; this your narration ; this your 
 proof ; this your conclusion ; this your vic- 
 tory ) and this your applause. Thus said 
 Socrates to one who put him in mind to 
 prepare himself for his trial ; " Do you not 
 think that I have been preparing myself for 
 this very thing, my whole life long ? " By 
 what kind of preparation ? u I have at- 
 tended to my own work." What mean 
 you? "I have done nothing unjust, either 
 in public or in private life." 
 
 But if you wish to make use of externals 
 too, your body, your estate, your dignity, 
 I advise you immediately to prepare yourself 
 by every possible preparation ; and, besides, 
 to consider the disposition of your judge, 
 and of your adversary. If it be necessary 
 to embrace his knees, do so; if to weep, 
 weep ; if to groan, groan. For when you 
 have once made yourself a slave to exter- 
 nals, be a slave wholly ; do not struggle. 
 
32 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 and be alternately willing and unwilling 
 but be simply and thoroughly the one or the 
 other ; free, or a slave ; instructed, or igno- 
 rant ; a game-cock, or a craven ; either bear 
 to be beaten till you die, or give out at once ; 
 and do not be soundly beaten first ; and 
 then give out at last. 
 
 CHAPTER III. (5.) 
 
 HOW NOBLENESS OF MIND MAY BE CON- 
 SISTENT WITH PRUDENCE. 
 
 HOW shall one combine composure an < 
 tranquillity with energy ; doing noth 
 ing rashly, nothing carelessly ? 
 
 By imitating those who play at gameu , 
 The dice are variable ; the pieces are varia 
 ble. How do I know what will fall out * 
 But it is my business to manage carefully 
 and dexterously whatever happens. Thus, 
 in life, too, this is the chief business, to con 
 sider and discriminate things ; and sa)^, 
 " Externals are not in my power ; choice is 
 Where shall I seek good and evil ? Within, 
 in what is my own." But, in what is con 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 33 
 
 trolled by others, count nothing good or evil, 
 profitable or hurtful, or any such thing. 
 
 What, then, are we to treat these in a 
 careless way ? 
 
 By no means ; for this, on the other hand, 
 would be a perversion of the will, and so 
 contrary to nature. But we are to act with 
 care, because the use of our materials is 
 not indifferent j and at the same time with 
 calmness and tranquillity, because the ma- 
 terials themselves are uncertain. 
 
 It is difficult, I own, to blend and unite 
 tranquillity in accepting, and energy in using, 
 the facts of life ; but it is not impossible : 
 if it be, it is impossible to be happy. 
 
 How do we act in a voyage ? What is in 
 my power ? To choose the pilot, the sailors, 
 the day, the hour. Afterwards comes a 
 storm. What have I to care for ? My 
 part is performed. This matter belongs to 
 another, to the pilot. But the ship is sink- 
 ing ; what then have I to do ? That which 
 alone I can do ; I submit to being drowned, 
 without fear, without clamor, or accusing 
 God ; but as one who knows that what is born 
 must likewise die. For I am not eternity, 
 but a man ; a part of the whole, as an hour 
 
34 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 is of the day. I must come like an hour, 
 and like an hour must pass away. What 
 signifies it whether by drowning or by a f evei t 
 For, in some way or other, pass I must. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. (6.) 
 
 OF CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 CHRYSIPPUS rightly says : While con- 
 sequences are uncertain, I will keep to 
 those things which will bring me most in 
 harmony with Nature ; for God himself hath 
 formed me to choose this. If I knew that 
 it was inevitable for me to be sick, I would 
 conform my inclinations that way ; for even 
 the foot, if it had understanding, would be 
 inclined to get into the dirt. 
 
 We weep and groan over painful events, 
 calling them our " circumstances." What 
 circumstances, man ? For, if you call what 
 surrounds you circumstances, every thing is 
 a circumstance ; but, if by this you mean 
 hardships, where is the hardship that what- 
 ever is born must die ? The instrument is 
 either a sword, or a wheel, or the sea, or a 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 35 
 
 tile, or a tyrant. And what does it signify 
 to you by what way you descend to Hades ? 
 All are equal ; but, if you would hear the 
 truth, the shortest is that by which a tyrant 
 sends you. No tyrant was ever six months 
 in cutting any man's throat ; but a fever 
 often takes a year. All these things are 
 mere sound, and the rumor of empty names. 
 
 " My life is in danger from Caesar." 
 
 And am I not in danger, who dwell at 
 Nicopolis, where there are so many earth 
 quakes ? And when you, yourself, recross 
 the Adriatic, what is then in danger ? Is it 
 not your life ? u But I am in danger of be- 
 ing banished." What is it to be banished ? 
 Only to be somewhere else than at Rome. 
 
 " Yes ! but what if I should be sent to 
 Gyaros?"* 
 
 If it be thought best for you, you will go ; 
 if not, there is another place than Gyaros, 
 whither you are sure to go, where he who 
 now sends you to Gyaros must go likewise, 
 whether he will or not. Why, then, do you 
 come to these as to great trials ? They are 
 not equal to your powers. So that an in- 
 
 * An island in the ^-Egean Sea, to which the 
 Romans used to banish criminals. 
 
$6 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 genuous young man would say, it was not 
 worth while for this, to have read and 
 written so much, and to have sat so long 
 listening to this old man. 
 
 CHAPTER V. (8.) 
 
 IN THE LIKENESS OF GOD. 
 
 YOU are a distinct portion of the essence 
 of God ; and contain a certain part of 
 him in yourself. Why, then, are you igno- 
 rant of your noble birth ? Why do you not 
 consider whence you came ? why do you not 
 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 the Divine you feed ; the Divine 
 you exercise ? You carry a God about with 
 you, poor wretch, and know nothing of it- 
 Do you suppose I mean some god without 
 you of gold or silver ? It is within yourself 
 that you carry him \ and you do not observe 
 that you profane him by impure thoughts 
 and unclean actions. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 37 
 
 If you were a statue of Phidias, as Zeus 
 or Athene, you would remember both your- 
 self and the artist ; and, if you had any 
 sense, you would endeavor to be in no way 
 unworthy of him who formed you, nor of 
 yourself ; nor to appear in an unbecoming 
 manner to spectators. And are you now 
 careless how you appear, when you are the 
 workmanship of Zeus himself? And yet, 
 what comparison is there, either between the 
 artists, or the things they have formed ? 
 What work of any artist has conveyed into 
 its structure those very faculties which are 
 shown in shaping it? Is it any thing but 
 marble, or brass, or gold, or ivory? And 
 the Athene of Phidias, when its hand is 
 once extended, and a Victory placed in it, re- 
 mains in that attitude for ever. But the 
 works of God are endowed with motion, 
 breath, the powers of use and judgment. 
 Being, then, the work of such an artist, will 
 you dishonor him, especially, when he 
 hath not only formed you, but given your 
 guardianship to yourself? Will you not 
 only be forgetful of this, but, moreover, dis- 
 honor the trust? If God had committed 
 some orphan to your charge, would you 
 
38 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 have been thus careless of him? He has 
 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, noble, unterri- 
 fled, dispassionate, tranquil. " And will you 
 not preserve him ? 
 
 But it will be said, "What need of this 
 lofty look, and dignity of face ? " 
 
 I answer that I have not yet so much 
 dignity as the case demands. For I do not 
 yet trust to what I have learned, and ac- 
 cepted. I still fear my own weakness. Let 
 me but take courage a little, and then you 
 shall see such a look, and such an appear- 
 ance, as I ought to have. Then I will show 
 you the statue, when it is finished, when it is 
 polished. Do you think I will show you a 
 supercilious countenance ? Heaven forbid ! 
 For Olympian Zeus doth not haughtily lift 
 his brow ; but keeps a steady countenance, 
 as becomes him who is about to say, 
 
 "My promise is irrevocable, sure."* 
 
 Such will I show myself to you ; faithful, 
 modest, noble, tranquil. 
 
 * Iliad I. 526, 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 39 
 
 "What, and immortal too, and exempt 
 from age and sickness?" 
 
 No. But sickening and dying as becomes 
 the divine within me. This is in my power ; 
 this I can do. The other is not in my 
 power, nor can I do it. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. (10, 13.) 
 
 THE DUTIES OF DIFFERENT RELATIONS 
 IN LIFE. 
 
 CONSIDER who you are. In the first 
 place a man ; that is, one who recog- 
 nizes nothing superior to the faculty of free 
 will, but all things as subject to this. 
 
 Remember, next, that perhaps you are a 
 son ; and what does this character imply ? 
 To esteem every thing that is his as belong- 
 ing to his father ; in every instance to obey 
 him ; not to revile him to any one j not to 
 say or do any thing injurious to him ; to 
 give way and yield in every thing ; co-oper- 
 ating with him to the utmost of his power. 
 
 Atter this, know likewise that you are a 
 brother, too ; and that to this character it 
 
40 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 belongs, to make concessions ; to be easily 
 persuaded ; to use gentle language ; never 
 to claim, for yourself, any non-essential 
 thing ; but cheerfully to give up these, to be 
 repaid by a larger share of things essential. 
 For consider what it is, instead of a lettuce, 
 for instance, or a chair, to procure for your- 
 self a good temper. How great an advan- 
 tage gained! 
 
 If, instead of a man, a gentle, social crea- 
 ture, you have become a wild beast, mis- 
 chievous, insidious, biting ; have you lost 
 nothing ? Is it only the loss of money which 
 is reckoned damage ; and is there no other 
 thing the loss of which damages a man ? 
 If you were to part with your skill in gram 
 mar, or in music, would you think the loss of 
 these a damage ; and yet, if you part with 
 honor, decency, and gentleness, do you 
 think that no matter ? Yet the first may >>e 
 lost by some cause external and inevitable 
 but the last only by our own fault. 
 
 " What, then, shall I not injure him whc 
 has injured me ? " 
 
 Consider, first, what injury is ; and re- 
 member what you have heard from the phi- 
 losophers. For, if both good and evil lie in 
 

 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 4 1 
 
 the will, see whether what you say does not 
 amount to this : " Since he has hurt himself, 
 by injuring me, shall I not hurt myself by 
 injuring him ?" 
 
 If the things independent of our will are 
 neither good nor evil ; and all things that do 
 depend on will, are in our own power, and 
 can neither be taken away from us, nor 
 given to us, unless we please ; what room is 
 there left for anxiety ? But we are anxious 
 about this paltry body or estate of ours, or 
 about what Caesar thinks ; and not at all 
 about any thing internal. Are we ever 
 anxious not to take up a false opinion ? 
 No ; for this is within our own power ? Or 
 not to follow any pursuit contrary to nature ? 
 No ; nor this. When, therefore, you see any 
 one pale with anxiety, just as the physi- 
 cian pronounces, from the complexion, that 
 such a patient is disordered in the spleen, 
 and another in the liver ; so do you like- 
 wise say, this man is disordered in his 
 desires and aversions ; he cannot walk 
 steadily ; he is in a fever. 
 
42 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. (14.) 
 
 THE WILL IN HARMONY WITH EVENTS. 
 
 WE take it to be the work of one who 
 studies philosophy, to bring his will 
 into harmony with events ; so that none of 
 the things which happen may happen against 
 our inclination, nor those which do not hap- 
 pen be desired by us. 
 
 Hence, they who have settled this point 
 have it in their power never to be disap- 
 pointed in what they seek, nor to incur 
 what they shun ; but to lead their own lives 
 without sorrow, fear, or perturbation ; and 
 in society to preserve all the natural or ac- 
 quired relations of son, father, brother, citi- 
 zen, husband, wife, neighbor, fellow-traveller, 
 ruler, or subject. Something like this is 
 what we take to be the work of a philoso- 
 pher. It remains to inquire, how it is to be 
 effected. Now, we see that a carpenter be- 
 comes a carpenter by learning certain things ; 
 and a pilot, by learning certain things, be- 
 comes a pilot. Probably, then, it is not 
 sufficient, in the present case, merely to be 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 43 
 
 willing to be wise and good ; but it is more- 
 over necessary that certain things should 
 be learned. What these things are, is the 
 question. 
 
 The philosophers say, that we are first to 
 learn that there is a God \ and that his 
 providence directs the whole ; and that it is 
 not merely impossible to conceal from him 
 our actions, but even our thoughts and 
 emotions. We are next to learn, what the 
 gods are ; for such as they are found to be, 
 such must he seek to be, to the utmost of his 
 power, who would please and obey them. 
 If the Deity is faithful, he, too, must be 
 faith f ul : if free, beneficent, and noble, he 
 must oe free, beneficent, and noble likewise ; 
 in all his words and actions, behaving as an 
 imitator of God. 
 
 You now come to me, as if you wanted 
 nothing. And how can it enter into your 
 imagination that there should be any thing 
 in which you are deficient ? You are rich ; 
 and, perhaps, have a wife and children, and 
 a great number of domestics. Caesar takes 
 notice of you ; you have many friends at 
 Rome ; you render to all their dues ; you 
 know how to requite a favor, and revenge 
 
44 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 an injury. In what are you deficient? Sup- 
 pose, then, I should prove to you, that you 
 are deficient in what is most necessary and 
 important to happiness ; and that hitherto 
 you have taken care of every thing rather 
 than your duty; and, to complete all, that 
 you understand not what God or man, or 
 good or evil, means ? That you are igno- 
 rant of all the rest, perhaps, you may bear 
 to be told 5 but if I prove to you that you 
 are ignorant even of yourself, how will you 
 bear with me, and how will you have pa- 
 tience to stay and be convinced ? Not at 
 all. You will immediately be offended, and 
 go away. And, yet, what injury have I done 
 you j unless a looking-glass injures a person 
 not handsome, when it shows him to himself, 
 such as he is ? Or unless a physician 
 can be thought to affront his patient, when 
 he says to him : " Do you think, sir, that 
 you are not ill ? You have a fever. Eat 
 no meat to-day. And drink water." No- 
 body cries out here, " What an intolerable 
 affront ! " But, if you say to any one : You 
 exhibit feverishness in your desires, and low 
 habits in what you shun ; your aims are con- 
 tradictory, your pursuits not conformable tc 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 45 
 
 nature, your opinions rash, and mistaken ; 
 he presently goes away, and complains that 
 he is affronted. 
 
 This is the position we assume. As, in a 
 crowded fair, the horses and cattle are 
 brought to be sold, and most men come 
 either to buy or sell ; but there are a few, 
 who come only to look at the fair, and in- 
 quire how it is carried on, and why in that 
 manner, and who appointed it, and for what 
 purpose; thus, in this fair [of the world] 
 some, like cattle, trouble themselves about 
 nothing but fodder. To all of you who busy 
 yourselves about possessions, and farms, 
 and domestics, and public posts, these things 
 are nothing else but mere fodder. 
 
 But there are some few men, among the 
 crowd, who are fond of looking on, and con- 
 sidering : "What, then, after all, is the 
 world ? Who governs it ? Has it no gov- 
 ernor ? How is it possible, when neither a 
 city nor a house can remain, ever so short a 
 iime, without some one to govern and take 
 care of it, that this vast and beautiful system 
 should be administered in a fortuitous and 
 disorderly manner ? Is there, then, a gov- 
 ernor? Of what sort is he? And how 
 
46 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 does he govern ; and what are we who are 
 under him ? And for what designed ? Have 
 we some connection and relation to him, 
 or none ? " In this manner are the few 
 affected ; and apply themselves only to 
 view the fair, and then depart. Well ; and 
 they are laughed at by the multitude ? Why, 
 so are the lookers-on, by the buyers and 
 sellers; and, if the cattle had any appre- 
 hension, they, too, would laugh at such as 
 admired any thing but fodder. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. (16.) 
 
 OF MISTAKEN IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 WE are always exaggerating, and rep- 
 resenting things greater than the re- 
 ality. In a voyage, for instance, casting my 
 eyes down upon the ocean below, and look- 
 ing around me, and seeing no land, I am 
 beside myself, and imagine that, if I should 
 be shipwrecked, I must swallow all that 
 ocean ; nor does it occur to me that three 
 pints are enough for me. What is it, then, 
 that alarms me ? The ocean ? No ; but my 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 47 
 
 own impressions. Again ; in an earthquake, 
 T imagine the city is going to fall upon me ; 
 but is not one little stone enough to knock 
 my brains out ? What is it, then, that op- 
 presses and makes us beside ourselves? 
 Why, what else but our own impressions ? 
 For what is it but mere impressions that 
 distress him who leaves his country, and 
 is separated from his acquaintance, and 
 friends, and place, and usual manner of 
 life? 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 impressions. 
 And what are they? 
 
 Such as a man ought to study all day 
 long, so as not to be absorbed in what does 
 not belong to him ; neither friend, place, 
 nor academy, nor even his own body ; but 
 to remember the law, and to have that con- 
 stantly before his eyes. And what is the 
 divine law? To preserve inviolate what is 
 properly our own ; not to claim what be- 
 longs to others; to use what is given us. 
 
4& THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 and not desire what is not given us ; and 
 when any thing 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 after its nurse and 
 its mamma. 
 
 For what does it signify, what gets the 
 better of you, or on what you depend I 
 which is the worthier, one crying for a doll 
 or for an academy? You lament for the 
 portico and the assembly of young people 
 and such entertainments. " Ah, when shall 
 I see Athens and the citadel again ? " Fool 
 ish man, are not you contented with whal 
 you see every day ? Can you see any thing 
 better than the sun, the moon, the stars, the 
 whole earth, the sea ? But if, besides, you 
 comprehend him who administers the whole, 
 and carry him about within yourself, do you 
 still long after certain stones, and a fine 
 rock ? What will you do, then, when you 
 are to leave even the sun and moon ? Will 
 you sit crying, like an infant ? 
 
 Boldly make a desperate push, man, as 
 the saying is, for prosperity, for freedom, 
 for magnanimity. Lift up your head at 
 .ast, as being free from slavery. Dare to 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 49 
 
 look up to God, and say, " Make use of me 
 for the future as Thou wilt. I am of the 
 same mind ; I am one with Thee. I refuse 
 nothing which seems good to Thee. Lead 
 me whither Thou wilt. Clothe me in what- 
 ever dress Thou wilt. Is it Thy will that I 
 should be in a public or a private condition ; 
 dwell here, or be banished ; be poor, or 
 rich ? Under all these circumstances I will 
 testify unto Thee before men. I will ex- 
 plain the nature of every dispensation." 
 No ? Rather sit alone, then, in safety, and 
 wait till your mamma comes to feed you. 
 If Hercules had sat loitering at home, what 
 would he have been ? Eurystheus, and not 
 Hercules. Besides, by travelling through the 
 world, how many acquaintances and how 
 many friends he made. But none more his 
 friend than God ; for which reason he was 
 believed to be the son of God ; and was so. 
 In obedience to Him, he went about extir- 
 pating injustice and lawless force. But you 
 are not Hercules, nor able to extirpate the 
 evils of others ; nor even Theseus, to extir- 
 pate the evils of Attica. Extirpate your 
 own then. Expel, instead of Procrustes 
 4 
 
50 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 and Sciron,* grief, fear, desire, envy, malev 
 olence, avarice, effeminacy, intemperance. 
 But these can be no otherwise expelled than 
 by looking up to God alone, as your pattern ; 
 by attaching yourself to Him alone, arul 
 being consecrated to His commands. If 
 you wish for any thing else, you will, with 
 sighs and groans, follow what is stronger 
 than you; always seeking prosperity with- 
 out, and never able to find it. For you seek 
 it where it is not, and neglect to seek it 
 where it is. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. (17.) 
 
 OF TRUE EDUCATION. 
 
 HAVE no will but the will of God, and 
 who shall restrain you ; who shall 
 compel you, any more than Zeus ? When 
 you have such a guide, and conform your 
 will and inclinations to his, why need you 
 fear being disappointed? Fix your desire 
 and aversion on riches, or poverty ; the one 
 
 * Two famous robbers who infested Attica, and 
 were at last killed by Theseus. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 5 I 
 
 will be disappointed, the other incurred. 
 Fix them on health, power, honors, your 
 country, friends, children, in short, on any 
 thing beyond the control of your will, you 
 will be unfortunate. But fix them on Zeus, 
 on the Gods. Give yourself up to these ; 
 let these govern ; let your powers be ranged 
 on the same side with these ; and how can 
 you be any longer unprosperous ? But if, 
 poor wretch, you envy and pity, and are 
 jealous, and tremble, and never cease a 
 single day from complaining of yourself and 
 of the Gods, why do you boast of your edu- 
 cation ? What education, man ? That you 
 have learned syllogisms ? Why do not you, 
 if possible, unlearn all these, and begin 
 again ; convinced that hitherto you have 
 not even touched on the essential point? 
 And for the future, beginning from this 
 foundation, proceed in order to the super- 
 structure ; that nothing may happen which 
 you do not wish, and that every thing may 
 happen which you desire. 
 
 Give me but one young man, who brings 
 this intention with him to the school ; who 
 is a champion for this point, and says, "I 
 yield up all the rest ; it suffices me, if once 
 
 . 
 
52 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 I become able to pass my life free from 
 hindrance and grief; to stretch out my neck 
 to all events as free ; and to look up to 
 Heaven, as the friend of God, fearing noth 
 ing that can happen." Let any one of you 
 show himself of such a disposition, that I 
 may say, " Come into the place, young man, 
 that is of right your own ; for you are des- 
 tined to be an ornament to philosophy. 
 Yours are these possessions ; yours, these 
 books ; yours, these discourses." 
 
 CHAPTER X. (18.) 
 
 OF THE POWER OF HABIT, 
 
 EVERY habit and faculty is preserved 
 and increased by correspondent ac- 
 tions ; 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 
 something 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 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 53 
 
 weakened. Upon the whole, then, whatever 
 you would make habitual, practise it ; and 
 if you would not make a thing habitual, do 
 not practise it, but habituate yourself to 
 something else. 
 
 It is the same with regard to the opera- 
 tions 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 over- 
 come by the seductions of a woman, do not 
 consider it as a single defeat alone, but that 
 you have fed, that you have increased, your 
 dissoluteness. For he who has had a fever, 
 even after it has left him, is not in the same 
 state of health as before, unless he was per- 
 fectly cured ; and the same thing happens 
 in distempers of the soul likewise. There 
 are certain traces and blisters left in it, 
 which, unless they are well effaced, when- 
 ever a new hurt is received in the same 
 part, instead of blisters will become sores. 
 
 If you would not be of an angry temper, 
 then, do not feed the habit. Give it noth- 
 ing 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 t 
 
54 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 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 restrained myself 
 under provocation." Be assured that you 
 are in an excellent way. 
 
 Stay, wretch, do not be hurried away. 
 The combat is great, the achievement di- 
 vine ; for empire, for freedom, for prosperity, 
 for tranquillity. Remember God, Invoke 
 him for your aid and protector; as sailors 
 do Castor and Pollux, in a storm. But, if 
 you are once defeated, and say that you will 
 get the victory another time, and then the 
 same thing over again ; assure yourself that 
 you will at last "be reduced to so weak and 
 wretched a condition, you will not so much 
 as know when you do amiss ; but you will 
 even begin to make defences for your be- 
 havior, and thus verify the saying of He 
 6iod : 
 
 " With constant ills, the dilatory strive." 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 55 
 
 CHAPTER XL (19, 21.) 
 
 OF INCONSISTENCY. 
 
 SHOW me, how you are used to exer- 
 cise yourself on shipboard. Remember 
 these distinctions, when the mast rattles, 
 and some idle fellow stands by you, while 
 you are screaming, and says : " For heaven's 
 sake, talk as you did a little while ago. Is 
 it vice to suffer shipwreck ? Or does it par- 
 take of vice ? " Would you not take up a 
 log, and throw it at his head ? "What have 
 we to do with you, sir ? We are perishing, 
 and you come and jest." Again ; if Caesar 
 should summon you, to answer an accusa- 
 tion, remember these distinctions. If, when 
 you are going in, pale and trembling, any 
 one should meet you and say, " Why do you 
 tremble, sir? What is this affair you are 
 engaged in ? Doth Caesar, within there, 
 give virtue and vice to those who approach 
 him ? " " What, do you, too, insult me. 
 and add to my evils ? " " Nay, but tell me, 
 philosopher, why you tremble ? Is there 
 any other danger, but death, or a prison, or 
 
56 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 bodily pain, or exile, or slander ? " " Why, 
 what else should there be ? " " Are any of 
 these vice? Or do they partake of vice? 
 What, then, did you yourself use to say of 
 these things?" "What have you to do 
 with me, sir ? My own evils are enough for 
 me." " You say rightly. Your own evils 
 are indeed enough for you ; your baseness, 
 your cowardice, and that arrogance by which 
 you were elated, as you sat in the schools. 
 Why did you assume plumage not your own ? 
 Why did you call yourself a Stoic ? " 
 
 Who, then, is a Stoic ? As we call that 
 it 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 i> 
 sick, and happy; in danger, and happy; 
 dying, and happy ; .exiled, and happy; dis- 
 graced, and happy. Show him to me ; for, 
 by Heaven, I long to see a Stoic. But you 
 have not one fully developed ? Show me, 
 then, one who is developing ; one who is 
 approaching towards this character. Do me 
 this favor. Do not refuse an old man a sight 
 which he has never yet seen. Do you sup- 
 pose that you are to show the Zeus, or 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 57 
 
 Athene of Phidias, a work of ivory or gold ? 
 Let any of you show me a human soul, desir- 
 ing to be in unity with God ; not to accuse 
 either God or man ; not to be disappointed 
 of its desire, nor incur its aversion ; not to 
 be angry ; not to be envious ; not to be jeal- 
 ous ; in a word, desiring from a man to be- 
 come a god ; and, in this poor mortal body, 
 aiming to have fellowship with Zeus. Show 
 him to me. But you cannot. 
 
 I am now your preceptor, and you come 
 to be instructed by me. And, indeed, my 
 aim is to secure you from being restrained, 
 compelled, hindered; to make you free, 
 prosperous, happy; looking to God upon 
 every occasion great or small. And you 
 come to learn and study these things. Why, 
 then, do you not finish your work, if you 
 have the proper aims, and I, besides the aim, 
 the proper qualifications? What is wanting? 
 When I see an artificer, and the materials 
 lying ready, I await the work. Now here is 
 the artificer ; here are the materials ; what 
 is it we want ? Is not the thing capable of be- 
 ing taught ? It is. Is it not in our own power 
 then ? The only thing of all others that is 
 so. Neither riches, nor health, nor fame, 
 
58 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 nor, in short, any thing else is in our power, 
 except a right use of the semblances of things. 
 This alone is, by nature, not subject to 
 restraint, not subject to hindrance. Why, 
 then, do you not finish it? Tell me the 
 cause ? It must be my fault, or yours, or 
 from the nature of the thing. The thing 
 itself is practicable, and the only thing in 
 our power. The fault, then, must be either in 
 me, or in you, or, more truly, in both. Well, 
 then, shall we at length begin to carry such 
 an aim with us ? Let us lay aside all that is 
 past. Let us begin. Only believe me, and 
 you shall see. 
 
 You have been fighting at home with your 
 man-servant; you have turned the house 
 upside-down, and alarmed the neighborhood ; 
 and do you come to me with a pompous 
 show of wisdom, and sit and criticise how I 
 explain a sentence, how I prate whatever 
 comes into my head ? Do you come, envious 
 and dejected, that nothing has come from 
 home for you ; and in the midst of the dis- 
 putations, sit thinking on nothing, but how 
 your father or your brother may treat you? 
 " What are they saying about me at home ? 
 Now they think I am improving, and say, he 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 59 
 
 will come back with universal knowledge. I 
 wish I could learn every thing before my re- 
 turn ; but this requires much labor, and 
 nobody sends me any thing. The baths 
 are very bad at Nicopolis ; and things go 
 very ill both at home and here." 
 
 w 
 
 CHAPTER XII. (22, 23.) 
 
 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 HEN any one identifies his interest 
 with those of sanctity, virtue, country, 
 parents, and friends, all these are secured ; 
 but whenever he places his interest in any 
 thing else than friends, country, family, and 
 justice, then these all give way, borne down 
 by the weight of self-interest. For wherever 
 / and mine are placed, thither must every 
 living being gravitate. If in body, that will 
 sway us ; if in our own will, that ; if in ex- 
 ternals, these. If, therefore, I rest my per- 
 sonality in the will, then only shall I be a 
 friend, a son, or a father, such as I ought 
 For, in that case, it will be for my interest 
 to preserve the faithful, the modest, the 
 
60 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 patient, the abstinent, the beneficent char- 
 acter ; to keep the relations of life inviolate. 
 But, if I place my personality in one thing, 
 and virtue in another, the doctrine of Epicu- 
 rus will stand its ground, that virtue is noth- 
 ing, or mere opinion. 
 
 Whoever among you studies either to be 
 or to gain a friend, let him cut up all false 
 convictions by the root, hate them, drive 
 them utterly out of his soul. Thus, in the 
 first place, he will be secure from inward re- 
 proaches and contests ; from vacillation and 
 self-torment. Then with respect to others \ 
 to every like-minded person, he will be with- 
 out disguise ; to such as are unlike, he will 
 be patient, mild, gentle, and ready to forgive 
 them, as failing in points of the greatest im- 
 portance ; but severe to none, being fully con- 
 vinced of Plato's doctrine, that the soul is 
 never willingly deprived of truth. Without 
 all this, you may, in many respects, live as 
 friends do ; and drink, and lodge, and travel 
 together, and even be born of the same 
 parents ; and so may serpents, too ; but, 
 neither they nor you can ever be really 
 friends, while your accustomed principles 
 remain brutal and execrable. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 6 1 
 
 Your business, man, was to prepare your- 
 self for such use of the semblances of things 
 as nature demands ; not to fail in what you 
 seek, or incur what you shun ; never to be 
 disappointed or unfortunate, but free, unre- 
 strained, uncompelled ; conformed to the Di 
 vine Administration, obedient to that ; find- 
 ing fault with nothing ; but able to say, from 
 your whole soul, these verses, 
 
 " Conduct me, Zeus, and thou, O Destiny, 
 Wherever your decrees have fixed my lot. 
 I follow cheerfully ; and, did I not, 
 Wicked and wretched, I must follow still."* 
 
 * A fragment of Cleanthes. 
 
0,2 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. (i.) 
 
 THE DIVINE MESSAGE. 
 
 WHEN you have once heard this dis- 
 course, go home, and say to yourself, 
 It is not Epictetus who has told me all 
 these things, for how should he ? but 
 some propitious God through him ; for it 
 would never have entered the head of Epic- 
 tetus, who is not used to dispute with any 
 one. Well ; let us obey God, then, that we 
 may not incur the Divine displeasure. If a 
 crow has signified any thing to you by his 
 croaking, it is not the crow that signifies it, 
 but God, through him. And, if you have 
 any thing signified to you through the hu- 
 man voice, doth He not cause that man to 
 tell it to you, that you may know the Divine 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 63 
 
 power which acts thus variously, and signi- 
 fies the greatest and principal things through 
 the noblest messenger? 
 
 CHAPTER II. (5.) 
 
 CONCERNING THOSE WHO PLEAD SICKNESS. 
 
 " T AM sick here," said one of the scholars : 
 
 JL "I will return home." 
 
 Were you never sick at home then ? Con- 
 sider whether you are doing any thing here 
 conducive to the regulation of your Will ; for, 
 if you make no improvement, it was to no pur- 
 pose that you came. Go home, then, and take 
 care of your domestic affairs. For if your 
 Reason cannot be brought into conformity 
 with nature, your land may. You may in- 
 crease your money, support the old age of 
 your father, mix in the public assemblies, 
 and rule as badly as you have lived, and do 
 other such things. But if you are conscious 
 to yourself that you are casting off some of 
 your wrong principles, and taking up differ- 
 ent ones in their room, and that you have 
 transferred your scheme of life from things 
 
64 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 not controllable by will to those controllable \ 
 and that if you do sometimes cry alas, it is 
 not for what concerns your father, or your 
 brother, but yourself, why do you any longer 
 plead sickness ? Do not you know that 
 both sickness and death must overtake us ? 
 At what employment ? The husbandman at 
 his plough ; the sailor on his voyage. At 
 what employment would you be taken ? For, 
 indeed, at what employment ought you to be 
 taken ? If there is any better employment 
 at which you can be taken, follow that. 
 
 For my own part, I would be found en- 
 gaged in nothing but in the regulation of my 
 own Will ; how to render it undisturbed, un- 
 restrained, uncompelled, free. I would be 
 found studying this, that I may be able to 
 say to God, "Have I transgressed Thy 
 commands ? Have I perverted the powers, 
 the senses, the instincts which Thou hast 
 given me ? Have I ever accused Thee, 
 or censured Thy dispensations ? I have 
 been sick, because it was Thy pleasure, like 
 others ; but I willingly. I have been poor, 
 it being Thy will ; but with joy. I have not 
 been in power, because it was not Thy will ; 
 and power I have never desired. Hast Thou 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. OS 
 
 ever seen me saddened because of this? 
 Have I not always approached Thee with a 
 cheerful countenance ; prepared to execute 
 Thy commands and the indications of Thy 
 will ? Is it Thy pleasure that I should de- 
 part from this assembly ? I depart. I give 
 Thee all thanks that Thou hast thought me 
 worthy to have a share in it with Thee ; to 
 behold Thy works, and to join with Thee in 
 comprehending Thy administration." Let 
 death overtake me while I am thinking, 
 while I am writing, while I am reading such 
 things as these. 
 
 " But I shall not have my mother to hold 
 my head when I am sick." 
 
 Get home, then, to your mother ; for you 
 are most fit to have your head held when you 
 are sick. 
 
 " But I used at home to lie on a fine 
 couch." 
 
 Get to this couch of yours; for you ar 
 fit to lie upon such a one, even in health ; 
 so do not miss doing that for which you are 
 qualified. But what says Socrates? "As 
 one man rejoices in the improvement of his 
 estate, another of his horse, so do I daily 
 rejoice in perceiving myself to grow better. 
 
66 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 " In what ? In pretty speeches ? " 
 
 Use courteous words, man. 
 
 "In trifling theorems? What do they 
 signify ? Yet, indeed, I do not see that 
 the philosophers are employed in any thing 
 else." 
 
 Do you think it nothing, to accuse and 
 censure no one, God nor man ? Always to 
 carry abroad and bring home the same 
 countenance ? These were the things which 
 Socrates knew ; and yet he never professed 
 to know, or to teach any thing ; but if any 
 one wanted pretty speeches, or little theo- 
 rems, he brought him to Protagoras, to 
 Hippias ; just as if any one had come for 
 pot-herbs, he would have taken him to a 
 gardener. Which of you, then, earnestly 
 sets his heart on this? If you had, you 
 would bear sickness and hunger and death 
 with cheerfulness. If any one of you has 
 truly loved, he knows that I speak truth. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 6j 
 
 CHAPTER III. (8.) 
 
 OF THE SEMBLANCES OF THINGS. 
 
 IN the same manner as we exercise our- 
 selves against sophistical questions, we 
 should exercise ourselves likewise in relation 
 to such semblances as every day occur ; for 
 these, too, offer questions to us. Such a 
 one's son is dead. What think you of it? 
 Answer : it is a thing inevitable, and there- 
 fore not an evil. Such a one is disinherited 
 by his father. What think you of it ? It is 
 inevitable, and so not an evil. Caesar has 
 condemned him. This is inevitable, and so 
 not an evil. He has been afflicted by it. 
 This is controllable by Will : it is an evil. 
 He has supported it bravely. This is within 
 the control of Will : it is a good. 
 
 If we train ourselves in this manner, we 
 shall make improvement ; for we shall never 
 assent to any thing but what the semblance 
 itself includes. A son is dead. What then ? 
 A son is dead. Nothing more ? Nothing. 
 A ship is lost. What then ? A ship is lost. 
 He is carried to prison. What then ? He 
 
68 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 is carried to prison. That he is unhappy is 
 an addition that every one must make for 
 himself. " But Zeus does not order these 
 things rightly." Why so ? Because he has 
 made you to be patient? Because he has 
 made you to be brave ? Because he has 
 made them to be no evils ? Because it is 
 permitted you, while you suffer them, to be 
 happy ? 
 
 CHAPTER IV. (9.) 
 
 WHAT IS WEALTH ? 
 
 " TF I employ myself in these things, I shall 
 JL be without an estate, like you ; without 
 plate, without equipage, like you." Nothing:, 
 perhaps, is necessary to be said to this, but 
 that I do not want them. But, if you pos- 
 sess many things, you still want others ; so 
 that, whether you will or not, you are poorer 
 than I. 
 
 " What then do I need ? " 
 What you have not, constancy ; a mind 
 conformable to Nature ; and a freedom from 
 perturbation. Patron, or no patron, what 
 

 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 69 
 
 care I ? But you do. I am richer than you. 
 I am not anxious what Caesar will think of 
 me. I flatter no one on that account. This 
 I have, instead of silver and gold plate. 
 You have your vessels of gold; but your 
 discourse, your principles, your opinions, 
 your pursuits, your desires, are of mere 
 earthen-ware. When I have all these con- 
 formable to Nature, why should I not be- 
 stow some study upon my reasoning, too? 
 I am at leisure. My mind is under no dis- 
 traction. In this freedom from distraction, 
 what shall I do ? Have I any thing more be- 
 coming a man than this ? You, when you 
 have nothing to do, are restless ; you go to 
 the theatre, or perhaps to bathe. Why should 
 not the philosopher polish his reasoning? 
 You have fine crystal and myrrhine vases ; 
 I have acute forms of argument. To you, 
 all you have appears little : to me all I have 
 seems great. Your appetite is insatiable : 
 mine is satisfied. When children thrust 
 their hand into a narrow jar of nuts and figs, 
 if they fill it, they cannot get it out again ; 
 then they begin crying. Drop a few of 
 them, and you will get out the rest. And 
 do you, too, drop your desire : do not 
 demand much and you will attain. 
 
JO THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. (10.) 
 
 HOW TO BEAR SICKNESS. 
 
 \\ 7~E should have our principles ready 
 VV for use on every occasion. At 
 dinner, such as relate to dinner; in the 
 bath, such as relate to the bath ; in the bed, 
 such as relate to the bed. 
 
 " Let not the stealing god of sleep surprise, 
 Nor creep in slumbers on thy weary eyes, 
 Ere every action of the former day 
 Strictly thou dost, and righteously, survey. 
 What have I done ? In what have I transgressed ? 
 What good, or ill, has this day's life expressed ? 
 Where have I failed in what I ought to do ? 
 If evil were thy deeds, repent and mourn ; 
 If good, rejoice. " * 
 
 We should retain these verses so as to 
 apply them to our use; not merely to say 
 them by rote, as we do with verses in honor 
 of Apollo. 
 
 Again, in a fever, we should have such 
 principles ready as relate to a fever ; and 
 not, as soon as we are taken ill, forget all. 
 
 * Pythagoras, Golden Verses, 40-44- 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 7 1 
 
 Provided I do but act as a philosopher, let 
 what will happen. Some way or other de- 
 part I must from this frail body, whether 
 a fever comes or not. What is it to be 
 a philosopher? Is it not to be prepared 
 against events? Do you not comprehend 
 that you then say, in effect, "If I am but 
 prepared to bear all events with calmness, 
 let what will happen ; " otherwise, you are 
 like an athlete, who, after receiving a blow, 
 should quit the combat. In that case, in- 
 deed, you might leave off without a penalty. 
 But what shall we get by leaving off phil- 
 osophy ? 
 
 What, then, ought each of us to say upon 
 every different occasion ? " It was for this 
 that I exercised ; it was for this that I 
 trained myself." God says to you, give me 
 a proof if you have gone through the prepar- 
 atory combats according to rule ; if you 
 have followed a proper diet and proper ex- 
 ercise ; if you have obeyed your master ; 
 and, after this, do you faint at the very time 
 of action ? 
 
 Now is your time for a fever. Bear it 
 well. For thirst ; bear it well. Is it not in 
 your power? Who shall restrain you? A 
 
72 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 physician may restrain you from drinking ; 
 but he cannot restrain you from bearing 
 your thirst well. He may restrain you from 
 eating; but he cannot restrain you from 
 bearing hunger well. "But I cannot fol- 
 low my studies." And for what end do you 
 follow them, slave ? Is it not that you 
 may be prosperous ? That you may be con- 
 stant? that you may think and act confor- 
 mably to Nature ? What restrains you, but 
 that, in a fever, you may keep your Reason 
 in harmony with Nature ? Here is the test 
 of the matter. Here is the trial of the 
 philosopher ; for a fever is a part of life, as 
 is a walk, a voyage, or a journey. Do you 
 read when you are walking? No ; nor in a 
 fever. But when you walk well, you attend 
 to what belongs to a walker ; so, if you bear 
 a fever well, you have every thing belonging 
 to one in a fever. 
 
 What is it to bear a fever well ? Not to 
 blame either God or man ; not to be afflicted 
 at what happens ; to await death in a right 
 and becoming manner ; and to do what is to 
 be done. 
 
 What occasion is there, then, for fear? 
 What occasion for anger, for desire, about 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 73 
 
 things that belong to others, or are of no 
 value ? For two rules we should always 
 have ready, that there is nothing good or 
 evil save in the Will ; and thai we are not to 
 lead events, but to follow them. 
 
 " My brother ought not to have treated 
 me so." Very true ; but he must see to 
 that. However he treats me, I am to act 
 rightly with regard to him ; for the one is 
 my own concern, the other is not ; the one 
 cannot be restrained, the other may. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. (13.) 
 
 WHAT IS SOLITUDE? 
 
 IT is solitude to be in the condition of a 
 helpless person. For he who is alone is 
 not therefore solitary, any more than one in 
 a crowd is the contrary. As Zeus converses 
 with himself, acquiesces in himself, and con- 
 templates his own administration, and is 
 employed in thoughts worthy of himself ; so 
 should we, too, be able to talk with our- 
 *elves, and not to need the conversation of 
 
74 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 others, nor suffer ennui; to attend to the 
 divine administration ; to consider our rela- 
 tion to other beings ; how we have formerly 
 been affected by events, how we are affected 
 now ; what are the things that still press 
 upon us ; how these, too, may be cured, 
 how removed ; if any thing wants complet- 
 ing, to complete it according to reason. 
 
 You perceive that Caesar has procured us 
 a profound peace ; there are neither wars 
 nor battles, nor great robberies nor piracies ; 
 but we may travel at all hours, and sail from 
 east to west. But can Caesar procure us 
 peace from a fever, too ? From a shipwreck ? 
 From a fire ? From an earthquake ? From 
 a thunderstorm ? Nay, even from love ? He 
 cannot. From grief? From envy? No; 
 not from any one of these. But the doctrine 
 of philosophers promises to procure us peace 
 from these, too. And what doth it say? 
 " If you will attend to me, O mortals ! wher- 
 ever you are, and whatever you are doing, 
 you shall neither grieve, nor be angry, nor 
 be compelled, nor restrained ; but you shall 
 live serene, and free from all." Shall not 
 he who enjoys this peace proclaimed, not by 
 Caesar (for how should he have it to pro- 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 75 
 
 claim ?) but by God, through Reason, be 
 contented when he is alone ; reflecting and 
 considering, " To me there can now no ill 
 happen : there is no thief, no earthquake. 
 All is full of peace, all full of tranquillity ; 
 every road, every assembly, neighbor, com- 
 panion, is powerless to hurt me." Another 
 whose care it is, provides you with food, 
 with clothes, with senses, with ideas. When- 
 ever He doth not provide what is necessary, 
 He sounds a retreat ; He opens the door, 
 and says to you, "Come." Whither? To 
 nothing dreadful ; but to that whence you 
 were made ; to w r hat is friendly and conge- 
 nial, to the elements. What in you was fire 
 goes away to fire ; what was earth, to earth ; 
 what air, to air ; what water, to water. There 
 is no Hades, nor Acheron, nor Cocytus, nor 
 Pyriphlegethon ; but all is full of gods and 
 divine beings. He who can have such 
 thoughts, and can look upon the sun, moon, 
 and stars, and enjoy the earth and sea, is no 
 more solitary than he is helpless. "Well; 
 but suppose any one should come and mur- 
 der me when I am alone." Foolish man : 
 not you ; but that insignificant body of 
 yours. 
 
76 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 What solitude is there then left? What 
 destitution ? Why do we make ourselves 
 worse than children ? What do they do 
 when they are left alone? They take up 
 shells and dust; they build houses, then 
 pull them down ; then build something else ; 
 and thus never want amusement. Suppose 
 you were all to sail away ; am I to sit and 
 cry because I am left alone and solitary ? 
 Am I so unprovided with shells and dust ? 
 But children do this from folly ; and shall 
 we be wretched through wisdom ? 
 
 CHAPTER VII. (15, 17.) 
 
 OF THE DAILY LIFE OF A PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 DO you think that you can act as you do 
 and be a philosopher? That you ca^ 
 eat, drink, be angry, be discontented, as you 
 are now ? You must watch, you must labor, 
 you must get the better of certain appetites ; 
 must quit your acquaintances, be despised 
 by your servant, be laughed at by those you 
 meet ; come off worse than others in every 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 77 
 
 thing, in offices, in honors, before tribunals. 
 When you have fully considered all these 
 things, approach, if you please ; if, by part- 
 ing with them, you have a mind to purchase 
 serenity, freedom, and tranquillity. If not, 
 do not come hither ; do not, like children, 
 be now a philosopher, then a publican, then 
 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 Reason or else ex- 
 ternals ; apply yourself either to things 
 within or without you ; that is, be either a 
 philosopher, or one of the mob. 
 
 Whenever you lay any thing to the charge 
 of Providence, do but reflect, and you will 
 find that it has happened agreeably to Rea- 
 son. 
 
 " Well ; but a dishonest man has the ad- 
 vantage." 
 
 In what ? 
 
 " In money." 
 
 Here he ought to surpass you ; because 
 he flatters, he is shameless, he keeps awake. 
 Where is the wonder ? But look whether he 
 has the advantage of you in fidelity or in 
 honor. You will find he has not j but that 
 
?8 THE DISCOl/KSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 wherever it is best for you to have the ad 
 vantage of him, there you have it. Is it not 
 better to have a sense of honor than to be 
 rich ? " Granted." Why, then, are you an- 
 gry, man, if you have what is best ? Always 
 remember, then, and have it in mind that a 
 better man has the advantage of a worse in 
 that direction in which he is better; and 
 you will never have any indignation. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. (20,21.) 
 
 GAIN FROM EVERY THING. 
 
 CEASE to make yourselves slaves ; first, 
 of things, and, then, upon their ac- 
 count, of the men who have the power either 
 to bestow, or to take them away. Is there 
 any advantage, then, to be gained from 
 these men ? From all ; even from a reviler. 
 What advantage does a wrestler gain from 
 him with whom he exercises himself before 
 the combat ? The greatest. And just in 
 the same manner I exercise myself with 
 this man. He exercises me in patience, in 
 gentleness, in meekness. I am to suppose, 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 79 
 
 then, that I gain an advantage from him 
 who exercises my neck, and puts my back 
 and shoulders in order ; so that the trainer 
 may well bid me grapple him with both 
 hands, and the heavier he is the better for 
 me j and yet, it is no advantage to me when 
 I am exercised in gentleness of temper ! 
 This is not to know how to gain an advan- 
 tage from men Is my neighbor a bad one? 
 He is so to himself ; but a good one to me. 
 He exercises my good temper, my modera- 
 tion. Is my father bad ? To himself ; but 
 not to me. " This is the rod of Hermes. 
 Touch with it whatever you please, and it 
 will become gold." No ; but bring what- 
 ever you please, and I will turn it into good. 
 Bring sickness, death, want, reproach, trial 
 for life. All these, by the rod of Hermes, 
 shall turn to advantage. "What will you 
 make of death ? " Why, what but an orna- 
 ment to you ? What but a means of your 
 showing, by action, what that man is who 
 knows and follows the will of Nature. 
 " What will you make of sickness ? " I will 
 show its nature. I will make a good figure 
 m it ; I will be composed and happy ; I will 
 not beseech my physician, nor yet will I 
 
SO THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 pray to die. What need you ask further? 
 Whatever you give me, I will make it happy, 
 fortunate, respectable, and eligible. 
 
 Be manly in your ways of eating, drinking, 
 dressing ; marry, have children, perform the 
 duty of a citizen ; bear reproach ; bear with 
 an unreasonable brother ; bear with a fa- 
 ther; bear with a son, a neighbor, a com- 
 panion, as becomes a man. Show us these 
 things, that we may see that you have really 
 learned something from the philosophers. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. (22.) 
 
 OF THE CYNIC PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 WHEN one of his scholars, who seemed 
 inclined to the Cynic philosophy, 
 asked him what a Cynic must be, and what 
 was the general plan of that sect. Let us 
 examine it, he said, at our leisure. But thus 
 much I can tell you now, that he who at- 
 tempts so great an affair without divine 
 guidance is an object of divine wrath, and 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. ol 
 
 would only bring public dishonor upon him- 
 self. 
 
 First, with regard to yourself; you must 
 no longer, in any instance appear as now. 
 You must accuse neither God nor man. 
 You must altogether control desire ; and 
 must transfer aversion to such things only as 
 are controllable by Will. You must have 
 neither anger, nor resentment, nor envy, nor 
 pity. 
 
 You must purify your own ruling faculty, 
 to match this method of life. Now the mate- 
 rial for me to work upon is my own mind ; 
 as wood is for a carpenter, or leather for a 
 shoemaker ; and my business is, a right use 
 of things as they appear. But body is noth- 
 ing to me : its parts nothing to me. Let 
 death come when it will ; either of the whole 
 body or of part. " Go into exile." And 
 whither ? Can any one turn me out of the 
 universe ? He cannot. But wherever I go, 
 there is the sun, the moon, the stars, dreams, 
 auguries, communication with God. And 
 even this preparation is by no means suffi- 
 cient for a true Cynic. But it must further 
 be known that he is a messenger sent from 
 Zeus to men, concerning good and evil ; to 
 6 
 
82 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 show them that they are mistaken, and seek 
 the essence of good and evil where it is not, 
 but do not observe it where it is. 
 
 He must, then, if it should so happen, be 
 able to lift up his voice, to come upon the 
 stage, and say, like Socrates : " O mortals, 
 whither are you hurrying ? What are you 
 about ? Why do you tumble up and down, 
 O miserable wretches ! like blind men ? 
 You are going the wrong way, and have for- 
 saken the right. You seek prosperity and 
 happiness in a wrong place, where they are 
 not ; nor do you give credit to another, who 
 shows you where they are. Why do you seek 
 this possession without ? It lies not in the 
 body ; if you do not believe me, look at Myro, 
 look at Ofellius. It is not in wealth ; if you do 
 not believe me, look at Croesus ; look upon 
 the rich of the present age, how full of lam- 
 entation their life is. It is not in power : 
 for, otherwise, they who have been twice and 
 thrice consuls must be happy ; but they are 
 not. 
 
 Consider carefully, know yourself, con- 
 sult the Divinity; attempt nothing without 
 God ; for, if he counsels you, be assured 
 that it is his will, whether that you should 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 83 
 
 become eminent, or that you should sufTei 
 many a blow. For there is this fine circum- 
 stance connected with the character of a 
 Cynic, that he must be beaten like an ass, 
 and yet, when beaten, must love those who 
 beat him as the father, as the brother of all. 
 Arms and guards give a power to common 
 kings and tyrants of reproving and of pun- 
 ishing delinquents, though they be wicked 
 themselves ; but to a Cynic, instead of arms 
 and guards, conscience gives this power ; 
 when he knows that he has watched and 
 labored for mankind ; that he has slept 
 pure, and waked still purer; and that he 
 hath regulated all his thoughts as the friend, 
 as the minister of the gods, as a partner of 
 the empire of Zeus ; that he is ready to say, 
 upon all occasions, 
 
 "Conduct me, Zeus, and thou, O Destiny." 
 
 And, " if it thus pleases the gods, thus let it 
 be.' 
 
84 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. (24.) 
 
 THAT WE OUGHT NOT TO BE AFFECTED BY 
 THINGS NOT IN OUR OWN POWER. 
 
 DO you now sit crying, because you do 
 not see the same people, nor live in the 
 same place? Indeed, you deserve to be 
 so overcome, and thus to become more 
 wretched than ravens or crows, which, with- 
 out groaning or longing for their former 
 state, can fly where they will, build their 
 nests in another place, and cross the seas. 
 
 M Ay, but this happens from their want of 
 reason." 
 
 Was reason, then, given to us by the 
 gods, for the purpose of unhappiness and 
 misery, to make us live wretched and la- 
 menting ? O, by all means, let every one 
 be deathless ! Let nobody go from home ! 
 Let us never go from home ourselves, 
 but remain rooted to a spot, like plants : 
 And, if any of our acquaintance should 
 quit his abode, let us sit and cry ; and, 
 when he comes back, let us dance and 
 clap our hands like children. Shall we 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 85 
 
 never wean ourselves, and remember what 
 we have heard from the philosophers, 
 unless we have heard them only as juggling 
 enchanters, that the universe is one great 
 city, and the substance one of which it is 
 formed ; that there must necessarily be a 
 certain rotation of things ; that some must 
 give way to others, some be dissolved, and 
 others rise in their stead ; some remain in 
 the same situation, and others be moved ; 
 but that all is full of beloved ones, first of 
 the gods, and then of men, by nature en- 
 deared to each other ; that some must be 
 separated, others live together, rejoicing in 
 the present, and not grieving for the absent ; 
 and that man, besides a natural greatness 
 of mind and contempt of things independent 
 on his own will, 'is likewise formed not to be 
 rooted to the earth, but to go at different 
 times to different places ; sometimes on ur- 
 gent occasions, and sometimes merely for 
 the sake of observation. 
 
 " Somebody is come from Rome." " I trust 
 no harm has happened." Why, what harm can 
 happen to you where you are not ? " From 
 Greece." " No harm, I hope." Why, at 
 this rate, every place may be the cause of 
 
86 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 misfortune to you. Is it not enough for you 
 to be unfortunate where you are, but it must 
 happen beyond sea, too, and by letters? 
 Such : s the security of your condition ! 
 
 Is this what you have heard from the 
 philosophers ? This what you have learned ? 
 Do you not know what sort of a thing war- 
 fare is ? One must keep guard, another go 
 out for a spy, another even to battle. It is 
 neither possible, nor indeed desirable, that 
 all should be in the same place ; but you, 
 neglecting to perform the orders of your 
 general, complain whenever any thing a 
 little hard is commanded ; and do not con- 
 sider what influence you have on the army, 
 so far as lies in your power. For, if all 
 should imitate you, nobody will dig a trench, 
 or throw up a rampart, or stand guard, or 
 expose himself to danger, but every one will 
 appear useless to the expedition. Again ; 
 if you were a sailor in a voyage, suppose 
 you were to fix upon one place, and there 
 remain ? If it should be necessary to climb 
 the mast, refuse to do it; if to run to the 
 bow of the ship, refuse to do it. And what 
 captain would tolerate you ? Would he not 
 throw you overboard as a useless piece of 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 87 
 
 goods and mere luggage, and a bad example 
 to the other sailors ? Thus, also, in the 
 present case ; every one's life is a warfare, 
 and that long and various. You must ob- 
 serve the duty of a soldier, and perform 
 every thing at the nod of your General, and 
 even, if possible, divine what he would have 
 done. For there is no comparison between 
 the above-mentioned General and this whom 
 you now obey, either in power or excellence 
 of character. 
 
 Do you not know that a wise and good 
 man does nothing for appearance ; but every 
 thing for the sake of having acted well ? 
 
 "What advantage is it, then, to him, to 
 have acted well ? " 
 
 What advantage is it to one who writes 
 down the name of Dion without a blunder ? 
 The having written it. 
 
 " Is there no reward, then ? " 
 
 Why ; do you seek any greater reward for 
 a good man than the doing what is fair and 
 iust ? And yet, at Olympia, you desire noth- 
 ing else ; but think it enough to be crowned 
 victor. Does it appear to you so small and 
 worthless a thing to be just, good, and 
 happy ? 
 
88 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 A wise and good man, mindful who he is 
 and whence he came, and by whom he was 
 produced, is attentive only how he may fill 
 his post regularly and dutifully before God. 
 
 " Dost Thou wish me still to live ? Let 
 me live free and noble, as Thou desirest; 
 for Thou hast made me incapable of restraint 
 in what is my own. But hast Thou no far- 
 ther use for me ? Farewell ! I have staid 
 thus long through Thee alone, and no other ; 
 and now I depart in obedience to Thee." 
 "How do you depart?" "Still as Thou 
 wilt ; as one free, as Thy servant, as one sensi- 
 ble of Thy commands and Thy prohibitions. 
 But while I am employed in Thy service, 
 what wouldst Thou have me to be? A 
 prince, or a private man ; a senator, or a 
 plebeian ; a soldier, or a general ; a pre- 
 ceptor, or a master of a family ? Whatever 
 post or rank Thou shalt assign me, like 
 Socrates, I will die a thousand times rather 
 than desert it. Where wouldst Thou have 
 me to be ? At Rome, or at Athens ; at 
 Thebes, or at Gyaros ? * Only remember me 
 there. If Thou shalt send me where men 
 
 * An island in the ^/Egean Sea, to which the 
 Romans used to banish criminals. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 89 
 
 cannot live conformably to nature, I will not 
 depart unbidden, but upon a recall as it 
 were sounded by Thee. Even, then, I do 
 not desert Thee ; Heaven forbid ! but I 
 perceive that Thou hast no use for me. If 
 a life conformable to nature be granted, I 
 will seek no other place but that in which 
 I am ; nor any other company but those 
 with whom I dwell." 
 
 If you are at Gyaros, do not represent to 
 yourself the manner of living at Rome ; how 
 many pleasures you used to find there, and 
 how many would attend your return ; but 
 dwell rather on this point ; how he, who 
 must live at Gyaros, may live there nobly. 
 And if you are at Rome, do not represent to 
 yourself the manner of living at Athens ; but 
 consider only how you ought to live where 
 you are. 
 
 Lastly, for all other pleasures substitute 
 the consciousness that you are obeying God, 
 and performing not in word, but in deed, the 
 duty of a wise and good man. How great 
 a thing is it to be able to say to yourself : 
 " What others are now solemnly arguing in 
 the schools, and can state in paradoxes, 
 this I put in practice. Those qualities 
 
90 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 which are there discoursed, disputed, cele 
 brated, I have made mine own. Zeus hath 
 been pleased to let me recognize this within 
 myself, and himself to discern whether he 
 hath in me one fit for a soldier and a citizen, 
 and to employ me as a witness to other 
 men, concerning things uncontrollable by 
 will. See that your fears were vain, your 
 appetites vain. Seek not good from with- 
 out ; seek it within yourselves, or you will 
 never find it. For this reason he now 
 brings me hither, now sends me thither; 
 sets me before mankind, poor, powerless, 
 sick ; banishes me to Gyaros ; leads me to 
 prison ; not that he hates me, Heaven 
 forbid ! For who hates the most faithful of 
 his servants ? Nor that he neglects me, for 
 he neglects not one of the smallest things ; 
 but to exercise me, and make use of me as a 
 witness to others. Appointed to such a 
 service, do I still care where I am, or with 
 whom, or what is said of me, instead of 
 being wholly attentive to God and to his 
 orders and commands ? " 
 
 Having these principles always at hand, 
 and practising them by yourself, and mak- 
 ing them ready for use, you will never want 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 9 1 
 
 any one to comfort and strengthen you. 
 For shame does not consist in having nothing 
 to eat, but in not having wisdom enough to 
 exempt you from fear and sorrow. But if 
 you once acquire that exemption, will a 
 tyrant, or his guards, or courtiers, be any 
 thing to you ? Will offices or office-seekers 
 disturb you, who have received so great a 
 command from Zeus? Only do not make a 
 p? fade over it, nor grow insolent upon it. 
 B it show it by your actions ; and though no 
 one else should notice it, be content that you 
 are well and blessed. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. (26.) 
 
 CONCERNING THOSE WHO ARE IN DREAD 
 OF WANT. 
 
 ARE not you ashamed to be more fear- 
 ful and mean-spirited than fugitive 
 slaves ? To what estates, to what servants, 
 do they trust, when they run away and leave 
 dieir masters? Do they not, after carrying 
 off a little with them for the first days, 
 
92 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 travel over land and sea, contriving first one, 
 then another method of getting food ? And 
 what fugitive ever died of hunger ? But you 
 tremble, and lie awake at night, for fear you 
 should want necessaries. Foolish man ! are 
 you so blind ? Do not you see the way 
 whither the want of necessaries leads ? 
 
 " Why, whither does it lead ? " 
 
 Whither a fever, or a falling stone, may 
 lead, to death. And how often have you 
 arrogantly boasted that you are undisturbed 
 by fears of death. 
 
 Sigh, then, and groan and eat in fear that 
 you shall have no food to-morrow. Trem- 
 ble, lest your servants should rob you, or 
 run away from you, or die. Thus, live on 
 for ever, whoever you are, who have applied 
 vourself to philosophy in name only, and as 
 much as in you lies have disgraced its prin- 
 ciples, by showing that they are unprofita- 
 ble and useless to those who profess them. 
 You have never made constancy, tranquillity, 
 *nd serenity the object of your desires ; 
 nave sought no teacher for this knowledge, 
 nut many for mere syllogisms. You have 
 never, by yourself, confronted some delusive 
 semblance with, " Can I bear this, or can 
 

 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 93 
 
 I not bear it ? What remains for me to do ? " 
 But, as if all your affairs went safe and well, 
 you have aimed only to secure yourself in 
 your present possessions. What are they ? 
 Cowardice, baseness, worldliness, desires un- 
 accomplished, unavailing aversions. These 
 are the things which you have been laboring 
 to secure. 
 
 You tremble, you lie awake ; you advise 
 with everybody, and if the result of the ad- 
 vice does not please everybody, you think 
 that you have been ill-advised. Then you 
 dread hunger, as you fancy ; yet, it is not 
 hunger that you dread ; but you are afraid 
 that you will not have some one to cook for 
 you ; some one else for a butler; another to 
 pull off your shoes ; a fourth to dress you ; 
 others to rub you ; others to follow you ; 
 that when you have undressed yourself in 
 the bathing-room, and stretched yourself out, 
 like a man crucified, you may be rubbed 
 here and there ; and the attendant may 
 stand by, and say, " Come this way ; give 
 your side ; take hold of his head ; turn your 
 shoulder j " and that when you are returned 
 home from the bath you may cry out, " Does 
 nobody bring any thing to eat ? " And then, 
 
94 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 "Take away; wipe the table." This is 
 your dread, that you will not be able to lead 
 the life of a sick man. But learn the life 
 of those in health ; how slaves live, how 
 laborers, how those who are genuine phi- 
 losophers. 
 
 Does any good man fear that food should 
 fail him ? It does not fail the blind ; it 
 does not fail the lame. Shall it fail a good 
 man ? Is God so negligent of His own insti- 
 tutions, of His servants, of His witnesses, 
 whom alone He uses for examples to the un- 
 instructed, to show that He exists, and that 
 He administers the universe rightly, and 
 doth not neglect human affairs ; and that no 
 evil can happen to a good man, either living 
 or dead ? What, then, is the case, when He 
 doth not bestow food? What else than 
 that, like a good general, He hath made me 
 a signal of retreat ? I obey, I follow ; speak- 
 ing well of my Leader, praising His works. 
 For I came when it seemed good to Him, 
 and again, when it seems good to Him, I de- 
 part ; and in life it was my business to praise 
 God within myself and to every auditor, and 
 to the world. Doth He grant me but few 
 things ? Doth He refuse me affluence ? It 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 95 
 
 is not His pleasure that I should live luxuri- 
 ously; for He did not grant that even to 
 Hercules, His own son. 
 
 " But what if I should be sick ? " 
 
 It will then be for the best that you 
 should be sick. 
 
 "Who will take care of me?" 
 
 God and your friends. 
 
 u I shall lie in a hard bed." 
 
 But like a man. 
 
 " I shall not have a convenient room." 
 
 Then you will be sick in an inconvenient 
 one. 
 
 " Who will provide food for me ? " 
 
 They who provide for others, too: you 
 will be sick like Manes.* 
 
 " But what will be the conclusion of my 
 sickness ? Any other than death ? " 
 
 Why, do you not know, then, that the 
 origin of all human evils, and of baseness 
 and cowardice, is not death ; but rather 
 the fear of death ? Fortify yourself, there- 
 fore, against this. Thither let all your dis- 
 courses, readings, exercises, tend. And then 
 you will know that thus alone are men made 
 free. 
 
 * The name of a slave of Diogenea, 
 
94 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 " Take away j wipe the table." This is 
 your dread, that you will not be able to lead 
 the life of a sick man. But learn the life 
 of those in health ; how slaves live, how 
 laborers, how those who are genuine phi- 
 losophers. 
 
 Does any good man fear that food should 
 fail him ? It does not fail the blind ; it 
 does not fail the lame. Shall it fail a good 
 man ? Is God so negligent of His own insti- 
 tutions, of His servants, of His witnesses, 
 whom alone He uses for examples to the un- 
 instructed, to show that He exists, and that 
 He administers the universe rightly, and 
 doth not neglect human affairs ; and that no 
 evil can happen to a good man, either living 
 or dead ? What, then, is the case, when He 
 doth not bestow food? What else than 
 that, like a good general, He hath made me 
 a signal of retreat ? I obey, I follow ; speak- 
 ing well of my Leader, praising His works. 
 For I came when it seemed good to Him, 
 and again, when it seems good to Him, I de- 
 part ; and in life it was my business to praise 
 God within myself and to every auditor, and 
 to the world. Doth He grant me but few 
 things ? Doth He refuse me affluence ? It 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 95 
 
 is not His pleasure that I should live luxuri- 
 ously; for He did not grant that even to 
 Hercules, His own son. 
 
 " But what if I should be sick ? " 
 
 It will then be for the best that you 
 should be sick. 
 
 "Who will take care of me?" 
 
 God and your friends. 
 
 " I shall lie in a hard bed." 
 
 But like a man. 
 
 " I shall not have a convenient room." 
 
 Then you will be sick in an inconvenient 
 one. 
 
 " Who will provide food for me ? " 
 
 They who provide for others, too: you 
 will be sick like Manes.* 
 
 " But what will be the conclusion of my 
 sickness ? Any other than death ? " 
 
 Why, do you not know, then, that the 
 origin of all human evils, and of baseness 
 and cowardice, is not death ; but rather 
 the fear of death ? Fortify yourself, there- 
 fore, against this. Thither let all your dis- 
 courses, readings, exercises, tend. And then 
 you will know that thus alone are men made 
 free. 
 
 * The name of a slave of Diogenes. 
 
96 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF FREEDOM. 
 
 THE cause of all human evils is the not 
 being able to apply general principles 
 to special cases. But different people have 
 different grounds of complaint ; one, for in 
 stance, that he is sick. That is not his 
 trouble : it is in his principles. Another, 
 that he is poor ; another, that he has a 
 harsh father and mother; another, that he 
 is not in the good graces of Caesar. This is 
 nothing else but not understanding how to 
 apply our principles. 
 
 Do you think freedom to be something 
 great and noble and valuable ? " How 
 should I not ? " Is it possible, then, that he 
 who acquires any thing so great and valuable 
 and noble should be of an abject spirit? 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 97 
 
 "It is not." Whenever, then, you see any 
 one subject to another, and flattering him 
 contrary to his own opinion, confidently 
 say that he is not free ; and not only when 
 he does this for a supper, but even if it be 
 for a government, nay, a consulship. Call 
 those, indeed, little slaves who act thus for 
 the sake of little things ; and call the others, 
 as they deserve, great slaves. And if you 
 should hear him say, " Wretch that I am ! 
 what do I suffer?" call him a slave. In 
 short, if you see him wailing, complaining, 
 unprosperous, call him a slave, even in 
 purple. 
 
 " Have'we so many masters, then ? " We 
 have. For, prior to all such, we have the 
 things themselves for our masters. Now 
 they are many ; and it is through these that 
 the men who control the things inevitably 
 become our masters, too. 
 
 Have I ever been restrained from what I 
 willed, or compelled against my will ? In- 
 deed, how is this possible ? I have placed 
 my pursuits under the direction of God. Is 
 it His will that I should have a fever ? It 
 is my will, too. Is it His will that I should 
 pursue any thing ? It is my will, too. Is it 
 7 
 
98 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 His will that I should desire ? It is my wil , 
 too. Is it His will that I should obtain any 
 thing ? It is mine, too. Is it not His will ? 
 it is not mine. Is it His will that I should 
 oe tortured ? Then it is my will to be tort- 
 'ired. Is it His will that I should die? 
 Then it is my will to die. 
 
 CHAPTER II. (1.) 
 
 OF RESIGNATION TO THE WILL OF GOD. 
 
 AFTER you have received all, and even 
 your very self from another, are you 
 angry with the Giver ; and do you complain 
 if He takes any thing 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 companions ? 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 administra- 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 99 
 
 tion ; 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 ? u No ; but I would enjoy 
 the feast still longer." So would the initi- 
 ated [in the mysteries], too, be longer in 
 their initiation ; so, perhaps, would the spec- 
 tators at Olympia see more combatants. 
 But the solemnity is over. Go away. De- 
 part like a grateful and modest person ; 
 make room for others. Others, too, must be 
 born as you were ; and when they are born 
 must have a place, and habitations, and 
 necessaries. But if the first do not give way, 
 what room is there left ? Why are you in- 
 satiable, unconscionable ? Why do you 
 crowd the world ? 
 
 " Ay, but I would have my wife and chil- 
 dren with me, too." Why, are they yours ? 
 Are they not the Giver's? Are they not 
 His who made you also? Will you not, 
 then, quit what belongs to another? Will 
 you not yield to your Superior? "Why, 
 then, did He bring me into the world upon 
 
IOO THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 these conditions ? " Well ; if it is not worth 
 your while, depart. He hath no need of a 
 discontented spectator. He wants such as 
 will share the festival ; make part of the 
 chorus ; who will extol, applaud, celebrate 
 the solemnity. He will not be displeased 
 to see the wretched and fearful dismissed 
 from it. For when they were present they 
 did not behave as at a festival nor fill a 
 proper place, but lamented, found fault with 
 the Deity, with their fortune, with their com- 
 panionSi They were insensible both of their 
 advantages and of the powers which they 
 received for far different purposes ; the 
 powers of magnanimity, nobleness of spirit, 
 fortitude, and, that which now concerns us, 
 freedom. "For what purpose, then, have 
 I received these things ? " To use them. 
 " How long ? " As long as He who lent 
 them pleases. 
 
 Take Socrates, and consider him, who nad 
 a wife and children, but held them not as 
 lis own; had a country, friends, relations, 
 but held them only so long as it was proper, 
 and in the manner that was proper ; sub- 
 mitting all these to the law and to the 
 obedience due to it. Hence, when it was 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 10 1 
 
 Dtoper 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 Leon, because 
 he esteemed it a base action, he did not even 
 deliberate about it ; though he knew that, 
 jerhaps, he might die for it. But what did 
 that signify to him ? For it was something 
 else that he wanted to preserve, not his 
 mere flesh ; but his fidelity, his honor free 
 from attack or subjection. And afterwards, 
 when he was to make a defence for his life, 
 does he behave like one having children ? 
 Or a wife ? No ; but like a single man. 
 And how does he behave, when required to 
 drink the poison ? When he might escape, 
 and Crito would have him escape from 
 prison for the sake of his children, what says 
 he? Does he esteem it a fortunate oppor- 
 tunity ? How should he ? But he considers 
 what is becoming, and neither sees nor re- 
 gards any thing else. " For I am not desir- 
 ous," he says, "to preserve this pitiful body ; 
 but that part which is improved and pre- 
 served by justice, and impaired and de- 
 stroyed by injustice. ,, Socrates is not to be 
 basely preserved. He who refused to vote 
 
102 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 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, instead of 
 running away. For even a good actor is 
 preserved as such 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 into 
 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 philosophi- 
 cal 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 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 103 
 
 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. 
 
 CHAPTER III. (2, 3.) 
 
 OF COMPLAISANCE. 
 
 r f F*0 this point you must attend before all 
 i- others ; not to be so attached to any 
 one of your former acquaintances or friends 
 as to condescend to behavior like his \ other- 
 wise you will undo yourself. But if it comes 
 into your head, " I shall appear odd to him, 
 and he will not treat me as before," remem 
 ber, that there is nothing to be had for 
 lothing ; nor is it possible that he who acts 
 n the same manner as before, should not be 
 vhe same person. Choose, then, whether 
 you will be loved by those who formerly 
 loved you, and be like your former self ; or 
 be better, and not meet with the same treat- 
 ment. If you do not drink with those with 
 whom you used to drink, you cannot appear 
 equally agreeable to them. Choose, then, 
 
104 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 whether you would be a drunkard, and 
 agreeable to them, or sober, and disagree- 
 able to them. If you do not sing with those 
 with whom you used to sing, you cannot be 
 equally dear to them. Here, too, then, 
 choose, which you will. For if it is better 
 to be modest and decent than to have it 
 said of you, " What an agreeable fellow 7" 
 give up the rest ; renounce it ; withdraw 
 yourself; have nothing to do with it. 
 
 When you have lost any thing external, 
 have always at hand the consideration of 
 what you have got instead of it ; and if that 
 be of more value, do not by any means call 
 yourself 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 composure of 
 mind for a dull jest ; or modesty for indecent 
 talk. By continually remembering this, you 
 will preserve your character such as it ought 
 to be. 
 
 Seek in all things your own highest good, 
 and for other aims, recognize them as 
 far as the case requires, and in accordance 
 with reason, contented with this alone. 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 105 
 CHAPTER IV. (4.) 
 
 CONCERNING THOSE WHO DESIRE A LIFE 
 OF REPOSE. 
 
 REMEMBER that it is not only the 
 desire of riches and power that de- 
 bases us and subjects us to others, but even 
 that of quiet, leisure, learning, or travelling. 
 Where is the difference whether you say, " I 
 am in a wretched way, I have nothing to do ; 
 but am tied down to books, as inactive as if 
 I were dead ; " or, " I am in a wretched 
 way, I have no leisure to read ? " 
 
 For as levees and power are among things 
 external and uncontrollable by will, so, like- 
 wise, is a book. For what purpose would 
 you read ? Tell me. For if you rest merely 
 in being amused and learning something, 
 you are insignificant and miserable. But if 
 you refer it to the proper end, what is that 
 but a life truly prosperous ? And if reading 
 does not procure you a prosperous life, of 
 what use is it ? " But it does procure me a 
 prosperous life (say you) ; and therefore I 
 am uneasy at being deprived of it ! " And 
 what sort of prosperity is that which every 
 
106 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 thing can hinder; I do not say Caesar 
 alone, or Caesar's friend, but a crow, a man 
 practising the flute, a fever, or ten thousand 
 other things ? But nothing is so essential to 
 prosperity as that it should be permanent 
 and unhindered. 
 
 Suppose I am now called to do something. 
 I now go, therefore, and will be attentive to 
 the bounds and measures which ought to be 
 observed ; that I may act modestly, steadily, 
 and without desire or aversion as to ex- 
 ternals. In the next place. I am attentive 
 to other men ; what they say, and how they 
 are moved ; and that not from ill-nature, nor 
 that I may have an opportunity for censure 
 or ridicule ; but I turn to myself. " Am I 
 also guilty of the same faults ; and how, 
 then, shall I leave them off ? " or, " I once 
 thus erred, but, God be thanked, not now." 
 Well ; when you have done thus, and been 
 employed on such things, have you not done 
 as good a work as if you had read a thousand 
 lines or written as many ? For are you un- 
 easy at not reading while you are eating? 
 When you eat, or bathe, or exercise, are you 
 not satisfied with doing it in a manner cor- 
 responding to what you have read ? 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. IOJ 
 
 But if we were to read dissertations about 
 the exertion of our efforts, not merely to see 
 what might be said about our efforts, but to 
 exert them well ; on desire and aversion, 
 that we might not be disappointed of our 
 desires, nor incur our aversions ; on the 
 duties of life, that, mindful of our relations, 
 we might do nothing irrational nor incon- 
 sistent with them ; then we should not be 
 provoked at being hindered in our reading ; 
 but should be contented with the perform- 
 ance of actions suitable to us, and should 
 learn a new standard of computation. Not, 
 "To-day I have perused so many lines; I 
 have written so many ; " but " To-day I have 
 used my efforts as the philosophers direct. 
 I have restrained my desires absolutely ; I 
 have applied my aversion only to things con- 
 trollable by will. I have not been terrified 
 by such a one, nor put out of countenance 
 by such another. I have exercised my pa- 
 tience, my abstinence, my beneficence." 
 And thus we should thank God for what we 
 ought to thank him. 
 
 But now we resemble the crowd in another 
 way also, and do not know it. One is 
 afraid that he shall not be in power; you. 
 
108 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICYETUS. 
 
 that you shall. By no means be afraid of it, 
 man ; but as you laugh at him, laugh at 
 yourself. Else how can you say, like So- 
 crates, "If it so pleases God, so let it be"? 
 Do you think that Socrates, if he had fixed 
 his desires on the leisure of the lyceum or the 
 academy, or the conversation of the youth 
 there, day after day, would have made so 
 many campaigns as he did, so readily ? 
 Would he not have lamented and groaned : 
 " How wretched am I ! now must I be mis- 
 erable here, when I might be sunning myself 
 in the lyceum ? " Was that your business in 
 life, then, to sun yourself ? Was it not to be 
 truly successful ? To be unrestrained and 
 free? And how could he have been Socra- 
 tes, if he had lamented thus ? How could he 
 after that have written Paeans in a prison ? 
 
 What is it the will of God that I should do 
 now ? What is not His will ? A little while 
 ago it was His will that you should be at 
 leisure, should talk with yourself, read, hear, 
 prepare yourself. You have had sufficient 
 time for this. At present, He says to you, 
 " Come now to the combat. Show us what 
 you have learned ; how you have wrestled." 
 Why, then, are you out of humor ? There is 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. IO9 
 
 no combat without a tumult. " But I would 
 live in quiet." Why, then, lament and groan 
 as you deserve. For what greater punish- 
 ment is there to those who are uninstructed 
 and disobedient to the orders of God, than 
 to grieve, to mourn, to envy ; in short, to be 
 disappointed and unhappy? Are you not 
 .villing to deliver yourself from all this? 
 " And how shall I deliver myself ? " Have 
 you not heard that you must absolutely con- 
 trol desire, and apply aversion to such things 
 only as are controllable by will ? That you 
 must consent to resign all, body, possessions, 
 fame, books, tumults, power, exemption from 
 power ? For to whichsoever your disposi- 
 tion is, you are a slave ; you are under sub- 
 jection ; you are made liable to restraint, to 
 compulsion ; you are altogether the property 
 of others. But have that maxim of Cleanthes 
 always ready, 
 
 " Conduct me, Zeus ; and thou, O Destiny." 
 
 Is it your will that I should go to Rome? 
 Conduct me to Rome. To Gyaros? To 
 Gyaros. To Athens? To Athens. To 
 prison ? To prison. If you once say, 
 " When may I go to Athens ? " you are un- 
 done. 
 
HO THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 " Athens is a fine place." But it is a much 
 finer thing to be happy, serene, tranquil, 
 not to have your affairs dependent on others. 
 
 If you have laid aside ill-nature and re- 
 viling ; if you have lessened your harshness, 
 indecent language, inconsiderateness, effem- 
 inacy ; if you are not moved by the same 
 things as formerly, or if not in the same 
 manner as formerly ; you may keep a 
 perpetual festival, to-day for success in one 
 affair, to-morrow for another. How much 
 better a reason for sacrifice is this than ob- 
 taining a consulship or a government? 
 
 CHAPTER V. (5.) 
 
 OF GOOD WILL TO MEN. 
 
 THIS is the point that a wise and good 
 person has in view. To have the 
 command of an army ? No ; but if it be 
 allotted him, to properly apply his own 
 powers in that sphere. To marry ? No ; 
 but if marriage be allotted him, to act in 
 Jhis sphere also, according to the laws of 
 nature. But if he expects perfection in his 
 
. THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. Ill 
 
 wife or his child, then he asks to have that for 
 his own which really belongs to others. 
 And wisdom consists in this very point, to 
 learn what things are our own and what be- 
 long to others. 
 
 Why do you not make public proclama- 
 tion that you are at peace with all mankind, 
 however they may act ; and that you chiefly 
 laugh at those who suppose they can hurt 
 you ? " These wretches neither know who I 
 am, nor in what consist my good and evil ; 
 nor how little they can touch what is really 
 mine." Thus the inhabitants of a fortified 
 city laugh at the besiegers. "What trouble, 
 now, are these people giving themselves for 
 nothing? Our wall is secure ; we have pro- 
 visions for a very long time, and every other 
 preparation." These are what render a city 
 fortified and impregnable ; but nothing but 
 its principles render the human soul so 
 For^what wall is so strong, what body so im- 
 penetrable, what possession so unalienable, 
 what dignity so secured against stratagems ? 
 All things else, everywhere else, are mortal, 
 easily reduced ; and whoever in any degree 
 fixes his mind on them, must necessarily be 
 subject to perturbation, despair, terrors, lam- 
 
112 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 entations, disappointed desires, and unavail- 
 ing aversions. And will we not fortify, 
 then, the only citadel that is granted us ; 
 and, withdrawing ourselves from what is 
 mortal and servile, diligently improve what 
 is immortal and by nature free ? 
 
 CHAPTER VI. (7, 8, 9.) 
 
 OF FEARLESSNESS, AND HUMILITY. 
 
 WHY may not he who discerns these 
 things live with an easy and light 
 heart, quietly awaiting whatever may happen, 
 and bearing contentedly what has happened ? 
 Shall it be poverty ? Bring it ; and you 
 shall see what poverty is when it is met well. 
 Would you have power ? Bring toils, too, 
 along with it. Banishment? Wherever I 
 go, it will be well with me there ; for it was 
 well with me here, not on account of the 
 place, but of the principles which I shall 
 carry away with me ; for no one can deprive 
 me of these ; on the contrary, they alone 
 are my property, and cannot be taken away ; 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. II* 
 
 and their possession suffices me wherever I 
 am, or whatever I do. 
 
 Euphrates was in the right to say, " I long 
 endeavored to conceal my embracing the 
 philosophic life ; and it was of use to me. 
 For, in the first place, I knew that whatever 
 I did right I did not for spectators, but for 
 myself. I eat in a seemly manner, for my 
 own approbation. I preserved composure 
 of look and manner, all for God and myself. 
 Then, as I contended alone, I alone was in 
 danger. Philosophy was in no danger, on 
 my doing any thing shameful or unbecom- 
 ing; nor did I hurt the rest of the world, 
 which, by offending as a philosopher, I 
 might have done. For this reason, those 
 who were ignorant of my intention, used to 
 wonder that while I conversed and lived 
 entirely with philosophers, I never took up 
 the character. And where was the harm, 
 that I should be discovered to be a philoso- 
 pher by my actions, rather than by the usual 
 badges? See how I eat, how I drink, how I 
 sleep, how I bear, how I forbear; how I 
 assist others ; how I make use of my desires, 
 how of my aversions. Judge of me hence, 
 if you can.'"' 
 
 8 
 
114 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 It was thus, too, that Socrates concealed 
 himself from the multitude ; and some even 
 came and desired him to introduce them to 
 philosophers. Was he accustomed to be 
 displeased, then, like us ; and to say, What ; 
 do not you take me for a philosopher ? No, 
 he took them and introduced them ; con- 
 tented with merely being a philosopher, and 
 rejoicing in feeling no annoyance, that he 
 was not thought one. 
 
 Talk with yourself, the person who will 
 most readily be persuaded by you, and with 
 whom no one has greater weight than you. 
 And, in the first place, condemn your ac- 
 tions ; but when you have condemned them, 
 do not despair of yourself, nor be like those 
 poor-spirited people who, when they have 
 once given way, abandon themselves entirely, 
 and are carried along as by a torrent. Tak>; 
 example from the wrestling-masters. Has 
 the boy fallen down ? Get up again, they 
 say ; wrestle again, till you have acquired 
 strength. Be you affected in the same man- 
 ner. For be assured that there is nothing 
 more tractable than the human mind. You 
 need but will, and it is done, it is set right; 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. I I 5 
 
 as, on the contrary, you need but nod over 
 the work, and it is ruined. For both ruin 
 and recovery are from within. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. (10.) 
 
 OF PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 
 
 PRAY, what would Hercules have been, 
 if he had said, " What can be done to 
 prevent a great lion, or a large boar, or sav- 
 age men, from coming in my way ? " Why, 
 what is that to you ? If a large boar should 
 come in your way, you will fight the greater 
 combat ; if wicked men, you will deliver the 
 world from wicked men. " But, then, if I 
 should die by this means ? " You will die 
 as a good man, in the performance of a gal- 
 lant action. For since, at all events, one 
 must die, one must necessarily be found do- 
 ing something, either tilling, or digging, or 
 trading, or serving a consulship, or sick with 
 indigestion, or dysentery. At what employ- 
 ment, then, would you have death find you ? 
 For my part, I would have it to be some hu- 
 
Il6 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 mane, beneficent, public-spirited, noble ac- 
 tion. But if I cannot be found doing any 
 such great things, yet, at least, I would be 
 doing what I am incapable of being re- 
 strained from, what is given me to do, 
 correcting myself, improving that faculty 
 which makes use of the phenomena of ex- 
 istence to procure tranquillity, and render to 
 the several relations of life their due ; and 
 if I am so fortunate, advancing still further 
 to the 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 I have 
 received from Thee of comprehending and 
 obeying thy administration, I have not neg- 
 lected. As far as in me lay, I have not dis- 
 honored Thee. See how I have used my 
 perceptions ; how my convictions. Have I 
 at any time found fault with Thee? Have I 
 been discontented at Thy dispensations ; or 
 wished them otherwise ? Have I trans- 
 gressed the relations of life ? I thank Thee 
 that Thou hast brought me into being. I 
 am satisfied with the time that I have en- 
 joyed the things which Thou hast given me. 
 Receive them back again, and distribute 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 117 
 
 them as Thou wilt ; for they were all Thine, 
 and Thou gavest them to me." 
 
 Will you, then, employ no expense and no 
 pains to acquire peace and tranquillity, to 
 sleep sound while you do sleep, to be thor- 
 oughly awake while you are awake, to fear 
 nothing, to be anxious for nothing ? But if 
 any thing belonging to you be lost, or idly 
 wasted, while you are thus engaged, or an- 
 other gets what you ought to have had, will 
 you immediately begin fretting at what has 
 happened ? Will you compare the exchange 
 you have made ? How much for how much ? 
 But you would have such great things for 
 nothing, I suppose. And how can you? 
 Two trades cannot be combined ; you can- 
 not bestow your care both upon externals, 
 and your own ruling faculty. But if you 
 would have the former, let the latter alone ; 
 or you will succeed in neither, while you are 
 drawn in different ways by the two. On the 
 other hand, if you would have the latter, let 
 the former alone. " The oil will be spilled, 
 the furniture will be spoiled ; " but still I 
 shall be free from passion. " There will be 
 a fire when I am out of the way, and the 
 books will be destroyed ; " but still I shall 
 
I 1 8 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 make a right use of the phenomena of ex- 
 istence. " But I shall have nothing to eat." 
 If I am so unlucky, dying is a safe harbor 
 That is the harbor for all, death ; that is 
 the refuge ; and for that reason there is 
 nothing difficult in life. You may go out 
 of doors when you please, and be troubled 
 with smoke no longer. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. (12.) 
 
 OF TAKING PAINS. 
 
 WHEN you cease to take pains for a 
 little while, do not fancy you may 
 rscommence whenever you please, but re- 
 member this, that, by means of the fault of 
 to-day, your affairs must necessarily be in a 
 worse condition for the future. The first 
 and worst evil is that there arises a habit of 
 neglect ; and then a habit of postponing 
 effort, and constantly procrastinating as to 
 one's successes and good behavior and or- 
 derly thought and action. . Now if procrasti- 
 nation as to any thing is advantageous, it 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. I 1 9 
 
 must be still more advantageous to omit it 
 altogether ; but if it be not advantageous, 
 why do you not take pains all the time? 
 
 These are the maxims we must have ready, 
 and do nothing without them, but direct the 
 soul to this mark. To pursue nothing ex- 
 ternal, nothing that belongs to others, but as 
 He who hath the power hath appointed. 
 Things controllable by will are to be pur- 
 sued always ; and the rest as may be per- 
 mitted. 
 
 Wherever you deviate from any of these 
 rules, the danger is immediate ; not from 
 any thing external, but from the very action 
 itself. " What, then, is it possible by these . 
 means to be faultless ? " Impracticable ; 
 but this is possible, to use a constant en- 
 deavor to be faultless. For we shall have 
 cause to be satisfied, if, by never remitting 
 our pains, we shall be exempt, at least, from 
 a few faults. But now, when you say you 
 will begin to take pains to-morrow, be as- 
 sured that it is the same thing as if you said, 
 "To-day I will be shameless, impertinent, 
 base, it shall be in the power of others to 
 grieve me ; I will be passionate, I will be 
 envious to-day." See to how many evils you 
 
120 THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 
 
 give yourself up. " But all will be well to- 
 morrow." How much better to-day ? If it 
 be for your interest to-morrow, how much 
 more to-day, that it may be in your power 
 to-morrow too, and that you may not again 
 defer it until the third day. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. (13.) 
 
 OF BEING COMMUNICATIVE. 
 
 WHEN any one appears to us to dis- 
 course frankly of his own affairs, 
 we, too, are somehow tempted to disclose 
 our secrets to him ; and we consider this to 
 be acting with frankness. But when one 
 has safely intrusted his secrets to me, shall 
 I, in imitation of him, trust mine to any one 
 who comes in my way ? " Ay ; but it is un- 
 fair, when you have heard the secrets of 
 your neighbor, not to communicate any thing 
 to him in return." 
 
 Why, did I ask you to do it, sir? Did 
 you tell me your affairs on condition that 
 I should tell you mine in return? This is 
 
THE DISCOURSES OF EPICTETUS. 121 
 
 just as if I had a sound barrel, and you 
 a leaky one ; and you should come and de- 
 posit your f vine with me, to be put into my 
 barrel ; and then should take it ill, that, in 
 my turn, I did not trust you with my wine, 
 No. You have a leaky barrel. How, then, 
 are we any longer upon equal terms ? 
 
be 3ndjtrtlitoit, or JBanuaL 
 
 THERE are things which are within our 
 power, and there are things which are 
 beyond our power. Within our power are 
 opinion, aim, desire, aversion, and, in one 
 word, whatever affairs are our own. Beyond 
 our power are body, property, reputation, 
 office, and, in one word, whatever are not 
 properly our own affairs. 
 
 Now the things within our power are by 
 nature free, unrestricted, unhindered ; but 
 those beyond our power are weak, depend- 
 ent, restricted, alien. Remember, then, 
 that if you attribute freedom to things by 
 nature dependent, and take what belongs to 
 others for 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 take for your own only that which 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 123 
 
 is your own, and view what belongs to others 
 just as it really is, then no one will ever compel 
 you, no one will restrict you, you will find 
 fault with no one, you will accuse no one, 
 you will do nothing against your will \ no 
 one will hurt you, you will not have an 
 enemy, nor will you suffer any harm. 
 
 Aiming, therefore, at such great things, 
 remember that you must not allow yourself 
 any inclination, however slight, 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 have these, and possess power and 
 wealth likewise, you may miss the latter in 
 seeking the former; and you will certainly 
 fail of that by which alone happiness and 
 freedom are procured. 
 
 II. 
 
 Where it is practically necessary for you 
 to pursue or avoid any thing, do even this 
 with discretion, and gentleness, and moder- 
 ation. 
 
124 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 III. 
 
 With regard to whatever objects either de- 
 light the mind, or contribute to use, or are 
 tenderly beloved, remind yourself of what 
 nature they are ; beginning with the meiest 
 trifles : if you have a favorite cup, that it is 
 a cup of which you are fond ; for thus, if it 
 is broken, you can bear it ; if you embrace 
 your child or your wife, that you embrace 
 a mortal ; and thus, if either of them d 7 'es, 
 you can bear it. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When you set about any action, remind 
 yourself of what nature the action is. If you 
 are going to bathe, represent to yourself the 
 incidents usual in the bath ; some persons 
 pouring out, others pushing in, others scold- 
 ing, others pilfering. And thus, you will 
 more safely go about this action, if you say 
 to yourself, " I will now go to bathe, and 
 keep my own will in harmony with nature." 
 And so with regard to every other action. 
 For thus, if any impediment arises in bath- 
 ing, you will be able to say, " It was not only 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 125 
 
 to bathe that I desired, but to keep my 
 will in harmony with nature ; and I shall 
 not keep it thus, if I am out of humor at 
 tilings which happen." 
 
 Men are disturbed not by things, but by 
 the views which they take of things. Thus, 
 death is nothing 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 views. It is the action of an uninstructed 
 person to reproach others for his own mis- 
 fortunes ; of one entering upon instruction, 
 to reproach himself ; and of one perfectly 
 instructed, to reproach neither others nor 
 himself. 
 
 VI. (vm.) 
 
 Demand not that events should happen 
 as you wish ; but wish them to happen as 
 they do happen, and you will go on well. 
 
126 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 VII. (XI.) 
 
 Never say of any thing, " I have lost it ; " 
 but, " I have restored it." Has your child 
 died? It is restored. Has your wife died ? 
 She is restored. Has your estate been 
 taken away ? That, likewise, is restored. 
 " But it was a bad man who took it." What 
 is it to you, by whose hands He who gave it 
 hath demanded it again ? While He permits 
 you to possess it, hold it as something not 
 your own ; as do travellers at an inn. 
 
 VIII. (xn.) 
 
 If you would improve, lay aside such rea- 
 sonings as these. "If I neglect my affairs, 
 I shall not have a maintenance ; if I do not 
 punish my servant, he will be good for 
 nothing." For it were better to die of 
 hunger, exempt from grief and fear, than to 
 live in affluence with perturbation ; and it is 
 better that your servant should be bad than 
 you unhappy. 
 
 Begin, therefore, with little things. Is it a 
 little oil spilt or a little wine stolen ? Say 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 127 
 
 to yourself, " This is the price paid for peace 
 and tranquillity ; and nothing is to be had 
 for nothing." And when you call your ser- 
 vant, consider that it is possible he may not 
 come at your call ; or, if he does, that he 
 may not do what you wish. But it is not at 
 all desirable for him, and very undesirable 
 for you, that it should be in his power to 
 cause you any disturbance. 
 
 IX. (xiii.) 
 
 If you would improve, be content to be 
 thought foolish and dull with regard to ex- 
 ternals. Do not desire to be thought to 
 know any thing ; and though you should 
 appear to others to be somebody, distrust 
 yourself. 
 
 X. (xv.) 
 
 Remember that you must behave as at a 
 banquet. Is any thing brought round to 
 you ? Put out your hand, and take a moder- 
 ate share. Does it pass by you? Do not 
 stop it. Is it not yet come ? Do not yearn 
 in desire towards it, but wait till it reaches 
 
128 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 you. So, with regard to children, wife, of- 
 fice, riches ; and you will some time or 
 other, be worthy to feast with the Gods. 
 And if you do not so much as take the 
 things which are set before you, but are able 
 even to forego them, then you will not only 
 be worthy to feast with the Gods, but to rule 
 with them also. For, by thus doing, Diog- 
 enes and Heraclitus, and others like them, 
 deservedly became divine, and were so 
 recognized. 
 
 XL (xvi.) 
 
 When you see any one weeping for grief, 
 either that his son has gone abroad, or that 
 he has suffered in his affairs, take care not 
 to be overcome by the apparent evil. But 
 discriminate, and be ready to say, " What 
 hurts this man is not this occurrence itself, 
 for another man might not be hurt by it ; 
 but the view he chooses to take of it." As 
 far as conversation goes, however, do not 
 disdain to accommodate yourself to him, and, 
 if need be, to groan with him. Take heed, 
 however, not to groan inwardly, too. 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 129 
 
 XII. (XVII.) 
 
 Remember that you are an actor in a 
 drama of such sort as the author chooses.* 
 If short, then in a short one ; if long, then 
 in a long one. If it be his pleasure that you 
 should act a poor man, see that you act 
 it well ; or a cripple, or a ruler, or a private 
 citizen. For this is your business, to act 
 well the given part ; but to choose it, belongs 
 to another. 
 
 XIII. (xx.) 
 
 Remember that it is not he who gives 
 abuse or blows who affronts ; but the view 
 we take of these things as insulting. 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 bewildered by appearances. For if 
 you once gain time and respite, you will 
 more easily command yourself. 
 
 XIV. (xxi.) 
 
 Let death, and exile, and all other things 
 which appear terrible, be daily before your 
 9 
 
130 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 eyes, but death chiefly; and you will 
 never entertain any abject thought, nor 
 too eagerly covet any thing. 
 
 XV. (xxiii.) 
 
 If you ever happen to turn your attention 
 to externals, for the pleasure of any one, be 
 assured that you have ruined your scheme 
 of life. Be contented, then, in every thing, 
 with being a philosopher ; and, if you wish 
 to seem so likewise to any one, appear so to 
 yourself, and it will suffice you. 
 
 XVI. (xxv.) 
 
 Is any one preferred before you at an en- 
 tertainment, or in courtesies, or in confiden- 
 tial intercourse? If these things are good, 
 you ought to rejoice that he has them ; and 
 if they are evil, do not be grieved that you 
 have them not. And remember that you 
 cannot be permitted to rival others in ex- 
 ternals, without using the same means to ob- 
 tain them. For how can he who will not 
 haunt the door of any man, will not attend 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. I3I 
 
 him, will not praise him, have an equal 
 share with him who does these things. You 
 are unjust, then, and unreasonable, if you 
 are unwilling to pay the price for which 
 these things are sold, and would have 
 them for nothing. For how much are let- 
 tuces sold ? An obolus, for instance. If an- 
 other, then, paying an obolus takes the 
 lettuces, and you, not paying it, go without 
 them, do not imagine that he has gained 
 any advantage over you. For as he has 
 the lettuces so you have the obolus which 
 you did not give. 
 
 XVII. (xxvi.) 
 
 The will of Nature may be learned from 
 things upon which we are all agreed. As, 
 when our neighbor's boy has broken a cup, 
 or the like, we are ready at once to say, 
 fc These are casualties that will happen.'' 
 Be assured, then, that when your own cup 
 is likewise broken, you ought to be affected 
 just as when another's cup was broken. 
 Now apply this to greater things. Is the 
 child or wife of another dead ? There is no 
 
132 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 one who would not say, " This is an accident 
 of mortality." But if any one's own child 
 happens to die, it is immediately, " Alas ! 
 how wretched am I ! " It should be always 
 remembered how we are affected on hearing 
 the same thing concerning others. 
 
 XVIII. (xxvu.) 
 
 As a mark is not set up for the sake ot 
 missing the aim, so neither does the nature 
 of evil exist in the world. 
 
 XIX. (xxxi.) 
 
 Be assured that the essence of piety to- 
 wards the Gods lies in this, to form right 
 opinions concerning them as existing, and 
 as governing the universe justly and well. 
 And fix yourself in this resolution, to obey 
 them, and yield to them, and willingly follow 
 them amidst all events, as being ruled by 
 the most perfect wisdom. For thus, you 
 will never find fault with the Gods, nor ac- 
 cuse them of neglecting you. And it is not 
 possible for this to be effected in any othei 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 133 
 
 way, than by withdrawing yourself from 
 things which are not within our own power, 
 and by making good or evil to consist only 
 in those which are. For, if you suppose any 
 other things to be good or evil, it is inevita- 
 ble that, when you are disappointed of what 
 you wish, or incur what you would avoid, you 
 should reproach and blame their authors. 
 
 XX. (xxxm.) 
 
 Begin by prescribing to yourself some 
 character and demeanor, such as you may 
 preserve both alone and in company. 
 
 Be mostly silent ; or speak merely what 
 is needful, and in few words. We may, 
 however, enter sparingly into discourse some- 
 times, when occasion calls for it ; but let it 
 not run on any of the common subjects, as 
 gladiators, or horse-races, or athletic cham- 
 pions, or food, or drink, the vulgar topics 
 of conyersation ; and especially not on 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 hap- 
 
134 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 pen to find yourself among strangers, be 
 silent. 
 
 Let not your laughter be loud, frequent, 
 or abundant. 
 
 Provide things relating to the body no 
 farther than absolute need requires ; as 
 meat, drink, clothing, house, retinue. But 
 cut off every thing that looks towards show 
 and luxury. 
 
 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 was 
 ignorant of my other faults, else he would 
 not have mentioned these alone." 
 
 When you are going to confer with any 
 one, and especially with one who seems 
 your superior, represent to yourself how 
 Socrates or Zeno would behave in such a 
 case, and you will not be at a loss to meet 
 properly whatever may occur. 
 
 In society, avoid a frequent and excessive 
 mention of your own actions and dangers. 
 For however agreeable it may be to your- 
 self to allude to 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 may readily 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 135 
 
 slide you into vulgarity. Approaches to in- 
 decent discourse are likewise dangerous. 
 Therefore when any thing of this sort hap- 
 pens, use the first fit opportunity to rebuke 
 him who makes advances ; or, at least, by 
 silence and blushing and a serious look, 
 show yourself to be displeased by such talk. 
 
 XXI. (xxxv.) 
 
 When you do any thing from a clear 
 judgment that it ought to be done, never 
 shrink from being seen to do it, even 
 though the world should misunderstand it ; 
 for, if you are not acting rightly, shun the 
 action itself ; if you are, why fear those 
 who wrongly censure you ? 
 
 XXII. (xliii.) 
 
 Every thing has two handles : one by 
 .vhich it may be borne ; another by which 
 it cannot. If your brother acts unjustly, 
 do not lay hold on the affair by the handle 
 of his injustice ; for by that it cannot be 
 borne : but rather 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. 
 
I38 THE ENCHIRIDION. 
 
 gard what any one says of you; for this, 
 after all, is no concern of yours. 
 
 Let whatever appears to be the best, be to 
 you an inviolable law. And if any instance 
 of pain or pleasure, glory or disgrace, be set 
 before you, remember that now is the com- 
 bat, now the Olympiad comes on, nor can it 
 be put off ; and that by one failure and de- 
 feat, honor may be lost or won. Thus, 
 Socrates became perfect, improving himself 
 by every thing; following reason. And 
 though you are not yet a Socrates, you 
 ought, however, to live as one seeking 
 to be a Socrates. 
 
 XXVII. (lii.) 
 
 Upon all occasions we ought to have 
 these maxims ready at hand: 
 
 u Conduct me, Zeus, and thou, O Destiny, 
 Wherever your decrees have fixed my lot. 
 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." 1 
 
 * Cleanthes. t Euripides ; Fragments. 
 
THE ENCHIRIDION. 139 
 
 And this third : 
 
 "O Crito, if it thus pleases the gods, thus let it 
 be." "Aiytus and Melitus may kill me, indeed; 
 but hurt me they cannot." * 
 
 * Plato, in Crito and Apology. 
 
JFragmrats of (Eptctetug* 
 
 FROM 
 
 StOBjEUS, ANTONIUS, AND MaXIMUS.* 
 
 I. (VIII.) 
 
 IF you would live tranquil and contented, 
 endeavor that all who live with you may 
 be good. And you can have them good by 
 instructing the willing and dismissing the 
 unwilling. For sin and bondage will fly with 
 those who leave you, and with those who re- 
 main with you will virtue and liberty be left. 
 
 II. (XII.) 
 
 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 
 
 * Stobaeus lived early in the fifth century, Max- 
 imus in the seventh, and Antonius in the eighth. 
 Their collections are printed together. Many of 
 these sayings are merely traditional. 
 
FRAGMENTS. I4I 
 
 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 there 
 are so many things which they have given us 
 
 III. (xvi.) 
 
 Examine yourself, whether you had rathei 
 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 will. 
 
 IV. (xx.) 
 
 If you were born in Persia, you would not 
 endeavor to live in Greece ; but to be happy 
 in the place where you were. Why, then, 
 if you are born in poverty, do you yearn to 
 be rich, and not rather to be happy in the 
 condition where you are ? 
 
 V. (xxi.) 
 
 As it is better to lie straitened for room 
 upon a little couch, in health, than to toss 
 
142 FRAGMENTS. 
 
 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. 
 
 VI. (xxv.) 
 
 Let the first satisfaction of appetite be 
 always the measure to you of eating and 
 drinking ; and appetite itself the sauce and 
 the pleasure. Thus, you will never take 
 more than is necessary, nor will you want 
 cooks ; and you will be contented with what- 
 ever drink falls in your way. 
 
 VII. (xxx.) 
 
 It would be best if, both while you are 
 personally making your preparations and 
 while you are feasting at table, you could 
 give among the servants part of what is be- 
 fore you. But if such a thing be difficult at 
 that time, remember that you, who are not 
 weary, are attended by those who are ; you, 
 who are eating and drinking, by those who 
 are not ; you, who are talking, by those who 
 
FRAGMENTS. 143 
 
 are silent ; you, who are at case, by those 
 who are under constraint; and thus you 
 will never be heated into any unreasona- 
 ble passion yourself, nor do any mischief 
 by provoking another. 
 
 VIII. (xxxv.) 
 
 If you seek truth, you will not seek 
 merely victory at all hazards ; and, when 
 you have found truth, you will have a 
 security against being conquered. 
 
 IX. (xxxviii.) 
 
 What you avoid suffering yourself, seek 
 not to impose on others. You avoid slavery, 
 for instance ; take care not to enslave. 
 For if you can bear to exact slavery from 
 oihers, you appear to have been yourself 
 a slave. For vice has nothing in common 
 with virtue, nor freedom with slavery. As 
 a person in health would not wish to be 
 attended by the sick, nor to have those who 
 live with him in a state of sickness ; so 
 neither would a person who is free bear to 
 
144 FRAGMENTS. 
 
 be served by slaves, nor to have those who 
 live with him in a state of slavery. 
 
 X. (xli.) 
 
 Do not hang your house round with tablets 
 and pictures ; but adorn it with virtue. Foi 
 those are merely foreign and a fading decep- 
 tion of the eyes ; but this, a congenial and in- 
 delible and perpetual ornament to the house. 
 
 XI. (lii.) 
 
 Diogenes affirmed no labor to be good, 
 unless the end were a due state and tone of 
 the soul, and not of the body. 
 
 XII. (lvii.) 
 
 You will commit the fewest faults in judg- 
 ing, if you are faultless in your own life. 
 
 XIII. (lxv.) 
 
 It is the character of the most mean 
 spirited and foolish men, to suppose that they 
 
FRAGMENTS. 145 
 
 shall be despised by others, unless they some- 
 how strike the first blow at their enemies. 
 
 XIV. (lxvi.) 
 
 When you are going to attack any one 
 with vehemence and threatening, remem- 
 ber to say first to yourself, that you are 
 constituted gentle, and that, by doing noth- 
 ing violent, you will live without the need 
 of repentance, and irreproachable. 
 
 XV. (lxxvi.) 
 
 You will confer the greatest benefits on 
 your city, not by raising its roofs, but by 
 exalting its souls. For it is better that 
 great souls should live in small habita- 
 tions, than that abject slaves should bur- 
 row in great houses. 
 
 XVI. (lxxxiii.) 
 
 As the sun waits not for prayers and in- 
 cantations to be prevailed on to rise, but im- 
 mediately shines forth, and is received with 
 
14-6 FRAGMENTS. 
 
 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. 
 
 XVII. (lxxxiv.) 
 
 A ship ought not to be held by one anchor, 
 nor life by a single hope. 
 
 XVIII. (xcii.) 
 
 When we are children, our parents deliver 
 us to the care of a tutor ; who is continually 
 to watch over us that we get no hurt. When 
 we are become men, God delivers us to the 
 guardianship of an implanted conscience. 
 We ought by no means, then, to despise this 
 guardian ; for it will both displease God, and 
 we shall be enemies to our own conscience. 
 
 XIX. (xcv.) 
 
 What ought not to be done, do not even 
 think of doing. 
 
FRAGMENTS. 147 
 
 XX. (XCVI.) 
 
 Deliberate much before you speak or act ; 
 for what is once said or done you cannot 
 recall. 
 
 XXI. (en.) 
 
 It is better to advise than reproach ; for 
 the one is mild and friendly, the other stern 
 and severe; the one corrects the erring, 
 the other only convicts them. 
 
 XXII. (cvm.) 
 
 Choose rather to punish your appetites 
 than to be punished by them. 
 
 XXIII. (cix.) 
 
 No one is free who commands not himself, 
 
 XXIV. (cxiv.) 
 
 Think of God often er than you breathe. 
 
I48 FRAGMENTS. 
 
 XXV. (CXV.) 
 
 If you always remember that God stands 
 by as a witness 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. 
 
 XXVI. (cxxiv.) 
 
 He is a man of sense who does not 
 grieve for what he has not, but rejoices 
 in what he has. 
 
 XXVII. (cxxvi.) 
 
 Let no wise man estrange himself from 
 the government of the state ; for it is both 
 wicked to withdraw from being useful to the 
 needy, and cowardly to give way to the 
 worthless. For it is foolish to choose rather 
 to be governed ill than to govern well, 
 
 XXVIII. (cxxx.) 
 
 He who is discontented with things pres- 
 ent and allotted, is unskilled in life. But 
 
FRAGMENTS. 1 49 
 
 he who bears them, and the consequences 
 arising from them, nobly and rationally, is 
 worthy to be esteemed a good man. 
 
 The following Fragments are ascribed 
 jointly to Epictetus and other authors: 
 
 I. (m) 
 
 CHOOSE the best life; for habit will 
 make it pleasant. 
 
 II. (xv.) 
 
 He who cultivates wisdom cultivates the 
 knowledge of God. 
 
 III. (XIX.) 
 
 We ought to do well by our friends 
 when they are present; and speak well of 
 them, when they are absent 
 
ISO FRAGMENTS. 
 
 IV. (xx.) 
 
 Let him not think himself loved by any, 
 who loves none. 
 
 V. (xxn.) 
 
 If you would lead a life without sorrow, 
 regard things which will happen, as if they 
 had already happened. 
 
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