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That confidence (courage) is not inconsistent with caution.

THE opinion of the philosophers perhaps seems to some to be a paradox; but still let us examine as well as we can, if it is true that it is possible to do every thing both with caution and with confidence. For caution seems to be in a manner contrary to confidence, and contraries are in no way consistent. That which seems to many to be a paradox in the matter under consideration in my opinion is of this kind: if we asserted that we ought to employ caution and confidence in the same things, men might justly accuse us of bringing together things which cannot be united. But now where is the difficulty in what is said? for if these things are true, which have been often said and often proved, that the nature of good is in the use of appearances, and the nature of evil likewise, and that things independent of our will do not admit either the nature of evil nor of good, what paradox do the philosophers assert if they say that where things are not dependent on the will, there you should employ confidence, but where they are dependent on the will, there you should employ caution? For if the bad consists in a bad exercise of the will, caution ought only to be used where things are dependent on the will. But if things independent of the will and not in our power are nothing to us, with respect to these we must employ confidence; and thus we shall both be cautious and confident, and indeed confident because of our caution. For by employing caution towards things which are really bad, it will result that we shall have confidence with respect to things which are not so.

We are then in the condition of deer;¹ when they flee from the huntsmen’s feathers in fright, whither do they turn and in what do they seek refuge as safe? They turn to the nets, and thus they perish by confounding things which are objects of fear with things that they ought not to fear. Thus we also act: in what cases do we fear? In things which are independent of the will. In what cases on the contrary do we behave with confidence, as if there were no danger? In things dependent on the will. To be deceived then, or to act rashly, or shamelessly or with base desire to seek something, does not concern us at all, if we only hit the mark in things which are independent of our will. But where there is death, or exile or pain or infamy, there we attempt to run away, there we are struck with terror. Therefore as we may expect it to happen with those who err in the greatest matters, we convert natural confidence (that is, according to nature) into audacity, desperation, rashness, shamelessness; and we convert natural caution and modesty into cowardice and meanness, which are full of fear and confusion. For if a man should transfer caution to those things in which the will may be exercised and the acts of the will, he will immediately by willing to be cautious have also the power of avoiding what he chooses: but if he transfer it to the things which are not in his power and will, and attempt to avoid the things which are in the power of others, he will of necessity fear, he will be unstable, he will be disturbed. For death or pain is not formidable, but the fear of pain or death. For this reason we commend the poet² who said

Not death is evil, but a shameful death.

Confidence (courage) then ought to be employed against death, and caution against the fear of death. But now we do the contrary, and employ against death the attempt to escape; and to our opinion about it we employ carelessness, rashness and indifference. These things Socrates³ properly used to call tragic masks; for as to children masks appear terrible and fearful from inexperience, we also are affected in like manner by events (the things which happen in life) for no other reason than children are by masks. For what is a child? Ignorance. What is a child? Want of knowledge. For when a child knows these things, he is in no way inferior to us. What is death? A tragic mask. Turn it and examine it. See, it does not bite. The poor body must be separated⁴ from the spirit either now or later as it was separated from it before. Why then are you troubled, if it be separated now? for if it is not separated now, it will he separated afterwards. Why? That the period of the universe may be completed,⁵ for it has need of the present, and of the future, and of the past. What is pain? A mask. Turn it and examine it. The poor flesh is moved roughly, then on the contrary smoothly. If this does not satisfy (please) you, the door is open:⁶ if it does, bear (with things). For the door ought to be open for all occasions; and so we have no trouble.

What then is the fruit of these opinions? It is that which ought to be the most noble and the most becoming to those who are really educated, release from perturbation, release from fear, freedom. For in these matters we must not believe the many, who say that free persons only ought to be educated, but we should rather believe the philosophers who say that the educated only are free. How is this? In this manner. Is freedom any thing else than the power of living as we choose? Nothing else. Tell me then, ye men, do you wish to live in error? We do not. No one then who lives in error is free. Do you wish to live in fear? Do you wish to live in sorrow? Do you wish to live in perturbation? By no means. No one then who is in a state of fear or sorrow or perturbation is free; but whoever is delivered from sorrows and fears and perturbations, he is at the same time also delivered from servitude. How then can we continue to believe you, most dear legislators, when you say, We only allow free persons to be educated? For philosophers say we allow none to be free except the educated; that is, God does not allow it. When then a man has turned⁷ round before the praetor his own slave, has he done nothing? He has done something. What? He has turned round his own slave before the praetor. Has he done nothing more? Yes: he is also bound to pay for him the tax called the twentieth. Well then, is not the man who has gone through this ceremony become free? No more than he is become free from perturbations. Have you who are able to turn round (free) others no master? is not money your master, or a girl or a boy, or some tyrant, or some friend of the tyrant? why do you tremble then when you are going off to any trial (danger) of this kind? It is for this reason that I often say, study and hold in readiness these principles by which you may determine what those things are with reference to which you ought to have confidence (courage), and those things with reference to which you ought to be cautious: courageous in that which does not depend on your will; cautious in that which does depend on it.

Well have I not read to you,⁸ and do you not know what I was doing? In what? In my little dissertations. —Show me how you are with respect to desire and aversion ( ἔκκλισιν); and show me if you do not fail in getting what you wish, and if you do not fall into the things which you would avoid: but as to these long and labored sentences⁹ you will take them and blot them out.

What then did not Socrates write? And who wrote so much?¹⁰—But how? As he could not always have at hand one to argue against his principles or to be argued against in turn, he used to argue with and examine himself, and he was always treating at least some one subject in a practical way. These are the things which a philosopher writes. But little dissertations and that method, which I speak of, he leaves to others, to the stupid, or to those happy men who being free from perturbations¹¹ have leisure, or to such as are too foolish to reckon con. sequences.

And will you now, when the opportunity invites, go and display those things which you possess, and recite them, and make an idle show,¹² and say, See how I make dialogues? Do not so, my man; but rather say; See how I am not disappointed of that which I desire: See how I do not fall into that which I would avoid. Set death before me, and you will see. Set before me pain, prison, disgrace and condemnation. This is the proper display of a young man who is come out of the schools. But leave the rest to others, and let no one ever hear you say a word about these things; and if any man commends you for them, do not allow it; but think that you are nobody and know nothing. Only show that you know this, how never to be disappointed in your desire and how never to fall into that which you would avoid. Let others labour at forensic causes, problems and syllogisms: do you labour at thinking about death,¹³ chains, the rack, exile;¹⁴ and do all this with confidence and reliance on him who has called you to these sufferings, who has judged you worthy of the place in which being stationed you will show what things the rational governing power can do when it takes its stand against the forces which are not within the power of our will. And thus this paradox will no longer appear either impossible or a paradox, that a man ought to be at the same time cautious and courageous: courageous towards the things which do not depend on the will, and cautious in things which are within the power of the will.

Of tranquillity (freedom from perturbation).

CONSIDER, you who are going into court, what you wish to maintain and what you wish to succeed in. For if you wish to maintain a will conformable to nature, you have every security, every facility, you have no troubles. For if you wish to maintain what is in your own power and is naturally free, and if you are content with these, what else do you care for? For who is the master of such things? Who can take them away? If you choose to be modest and faithful, who shall not allow you to be so? If you choose not to be restrained or compelled, who shall compel you to desire what you think that you ought not to desire? who shall compel you to avoid what you do not think fit to avoid? But what do you say? The judge will determine against you something that appears formidable; but that you should also suffer in trying to avoid it, how can he do that? When then the pursuit of objects and the avoiding of them are in your power, what else do you care for? Let this be your preface,¹⁵ this your narrative, this your confirmation, this your victory, this your peroration, this your applause (or the approbation which you will receive).

Therefore Socrates said to one who was reminding him to prepare for his trial,¹⁶ Do you not think then that I have been preparing for it all my life? By what kind of preparation? I have maintained that which was in my own power. How then? I have never done anything unjust either in my private or in my public life.

But if you wish to maintain externals also, your poor body, your little property and your little estimation, I advise you to make from this moment all possible preparation, and then consider both the nature of your judge and your adversary. If it is necessary to embrace his knees, embrace his knees; if to weep, weep; if to groan, groan. For when you have subjected to externals what is your own, then be a slave and do not resist, and do not sometimes choose to be a slave, and sometimes not choose, but with all your mind be one or the other, either free or a slave, either instructed or uninstructed, either a well bred cock or a mean one, either endure to be beaten until you die or yield at once; and let it not happen to you to receive many stripes and then to yield. But if these things are base, determine immediately. Where is the nature of evil and good? It is where truth is: where truth is and where nature is, there is caution: where truth is, there is courage where nature is.¹⁷

For what do you think? do you think that, if Socrates had wished to preserve externals, he would have come forward and said: Anytus and Melitus can certainly kill me, but to harm me they are not able? Was he so foolish as not to see that this way leads not to the preservation of life and fortune, but to another end? What is the reason then that he takes no account of his adversaries, and even irritates them?¹⁸ Just in the same way my friend Heraclitus, who had a little suit in Rhodes about a bit of land, and had proved to the judges ( δικασταῖς) that his case was just, said when he had come to the peroration of his speech, I will neither intreat you nor do I care what judgment you will give, and it is you father than I who are on your trial. And thus he ended the business.¹⁹ What need was there of this? Only do not intreat; but do not also say, I do not intreat. unless there is a fit occasion to irritate purposely the judges, as was the case with Socrates. And you, if you are preparing such a peroration, why do you wait, why do you obey the order to submit to trial? For if you wish to be crucified, wait and the cross will come: but if you choose to submit and to plead your cause as well as you can, you must do what is consistent with this object, provided you maintain what is your own (your proper character).

For this reason also it is ridiculous to say, Suggest something to me²⁰ (tell me what to do). What should I suggest to you? Well, form my mind so as to accommodate itself to any event. Why that is just the same as if a man who is ignorant of letters should say, Tell me what to write when any name is proposed to me. For if I should tell him to write Dion, and then another should come and propose to him not the name of Dion but that of Theon, what will be done? what will he write? But if you have practised writing, you are also prepared to write (or to do) any thing that is required. If²¹ you are not, what can I now suggest? For if circumstances require something else, what will you say, or what will you do? Remember then this general precept and you will need no suggestion. But if you gape after externals, you must of necessity ramble up and down in obedience to the will of your master. And who is the master? He who has the power over the things which you seek to gain or try to avoid.²²

To those who recommend persons to philosophers.

DIOGENES said well to one who asked from him letters of recommendation, That you are a man, he said, he will know as soon as he sees you; and he will know whether you are good or bad, if he is by experience skilful to distinguish the good and the bad; but if he is without experience, he will never know, if I write to him ten thousand times.²³ For it is just the same as if a drachma (a piece of silver money) asked to be recommended to a person to be tested. If he is skilful in testing silver, he will know what you are, for you (the drachma) will recommend yourself. We ought then in life also to have some skill as in the case of silver coin that a man may be able to say like the judge of silver, Bring me any drachma and I will test it. But in the case of syllogisms, I would say, Bring any man that you please, and I will distinguish for you the man who knows how to resolve syllogisms and the man who does not. Why? Because I know how to resolve syllogisms. I have the power, which a man must have who is able to discover those who have the power of resolving syllogisms. But in life how do I act? At one time I call a thing good, and at another time bad. What is the reason? The contrary to that which is in the case of syllogisms, ignorance and inexperience.

Against a person who had once been detected in adultery.

As Epictetus was saying that man is formed for fidelity, and that he who subverts fidelity subverts the peculiar characteristic of men, there entered one of those who are considered to be men of letters, who had once been detected in adultery in the city. Then Epictetus continued, But if we lay aside this fidelity for which we are formed and make designs against our neighbour’s wife, what are we doing? What else but destroying and overthrowing? Whom, the man of fidelity, the man of modesty, the man of sanctity. Is this all? And are we not overthrowing neighbourhood, and friendship, and the community; and in what place are we putting ourselves? How shall I consider you, man? As a neighbour, as a friend? What kind of one? As a citizen? Wherein shall I trust you? So if you were an utensil so worthless that a man could not use you, you would be pitched out on the dung heaps, and no man would pick you up. But if being a man you are unable to fill any place which befits a man, what shall we do with you? For suppose that you cannot hold the place of a friend, can you hold the place of a slave? And who will trust you? Are you not then content that you also should be pitched somewhere on a dung heap, as a useless utensil, and a bit of dung? Then will you say, no man cares for me, a man of letters? They do not, because you are bad and useless. It is just as if the wasps complained because no man cares for them, but all fly from them, and if a man can, he strikes them and knocks them down. You have such a sting that you throw into trouble and pain any man that you wound with it. What would you have us do with you? You have no place where you can be put.

What then, are not women common by nature?²⁴ So I say also; for a little pig is common to all the invited guests, but when the portions have been distributed, go, if you think it right, and snatch up the portion of him who reclines next to you, or slily steal it, or place your hand down by it and lay hold of it, and if you can not tear away a bit of the meat, grease your fingers and lick them. A fine companion over cups, and Socratic guest indeed Well, is not the theatre common to the citizens? When then they have taken their seats, come, if you think proper, and eject one of them. In this way women also are common by nature. When then the legislator, like the master of a feast, has distributed them, will you not also look for your own portion and not filch and handle what belongs to another. But I am a man of letters and understand Archedemus.²⁵—Understand Archedemus then, and be an adulterer, and faithless, and instead of a man, be a wolf or an ape: for what is the difference?²⁶

How magnanimity is consistent with care.

THINGS themselves (materials) are indifferent;²⁷ but the use of them is not indifferent. How then shall a man preserve firmness and tranquillity, and at the same time be careful and neither rash nor negligent? If he imitates those who play at dice. The counters are indifferent; the dice are indifferent. How do I know what the cast will be? But to use carefully and dexterously the cast of the dice, this is my business.²⁸ Thus then in life also the chief business is this: distinguish and separate things, and say, Externals are not in my power: will is in my power. Where shall I seek the good and the bad? Within, in the things which are my own. But in what does not belong to you call nothing either good or bad, or profit or damage or any thing of the kind.

What then? Should we use such things carelessly? In no way: for this on the other hand is bad for the faculty of the will, and consequently against nature; but we should act carefully because the use is not indifferent, and we should also act with firmness and freedom from perturbations because the material is indifferent. For where the material is not indifferent, there no man can hinder me nor compel me. Where I can be hindered and compelled, the obtaining of those things is not in my power, nor is it good or bad; but the use is either bad or good, and the use is in my power. But it is difficult to mingle and to bring together these two things, the carefulness of him who is affected by the matter (or things about him) and the firmness of him who has no regard for it; but it is not impossible: and if it is, happiness is impossible. But we should act as we do in the case of a voyage. What can I do? I can choose the master of the ship, the sailors, the day, the opportunity. Then comes a storm. What more have I to care for? for my part is done. The business belongs to another, the master.—But the ship is sinking—what then have I to do? I do the only thing that I can, not to be drowned fill of fear, nor screaming nor blaming God, but knowing that what has been produced must also perish: for I am not an immortal being, but a man, a part of the whole, as an hour is a part of the day; I must be present like the hour, and past like the hour. What difference then does it make to me, how I pass away, whether by being suffocated or by a fever, for I must pass through some such means?

This is just what you will see those doing who play at ball skilfully. No one cares about the ball²⁹ as being good or bad, but about throwing and catching it. In this therefore is the skill, in this the art, the quickness, the judgment, so that even if I spread out my lap I may not be able to catch it, and another, if I throw, may catch the ball. But if with perturbation and fear we receive or throw the ball, what kind of play is it then, and wherein shall a man be steady, and how shall a man see the order in the game? But one will say, Throw; or Do not throw; and another will say, You have thrown once. This is quarrelling, not play.

Socrates then knew how to play at ball. How? By using pleasantry in the court where he was tried. Tell me, he says, Anytus, how do you say that I do not believe in God. The Daemons ( δαίμονες), who are they, think you? Are they not sons of Gods, or compounded of gods and men? When Anytus admitted this, Socrates said, Who then, think you, can believe that there are mules (half asses), but not asses; and this he said as if he were playing at ball.³⁰ And what was the ball in that case? Life, chains, banishment, a draught of poison, separation from wife and leaving children orphans. These were the things with which he was playing; but still he did play and threw the ball skilfully. So we should do: we must employ all the care of the players, but show the same indifference about the ball. For we ought by all means to apply our art to some external material, not as valuing the material, but, whatever it may be, showing our art in it. Thus too the weaver does not make wool, but exercises his art upon such as he receives. Another gives you food and property and is able to take them away and your poor body also. When then you have received the material, work on it. If then you come out (of the trial) without having suffered any thing, all who meet you will congratulate you on your escape; but he who knows how to look at such things, if he shall see that you have behaved properly in the matter, will commend you and be pleased with you; and if he shall find that you owe your escape to any want of proper behaviour, he will do the contrary. For where rejoicing is reasonable, there also is congratulation reasonable.

How then is it said that some external things are according to nature and others contrary to nature? It is said as it might be said if we were separated from union (or society). for to the foot I shall say that it is according to nature for it to be clean; but if you take it as a foot and as a thing not detached (independent), it will befit it both to step into the mud and tread on thorns, and sometimes to be cut off for the good of the whole body; otherwise it is no longer a foot. We should think in some such way about ourselves alsc. What are you? A man. If you consider yourself as detached from other men, it is according to nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if you consider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is for the sake of that whole that at one time you should be sick, at another time take a voyage and run into danger, and at another time be in want, and in some cases die prematurely. Why then are you troubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no longer a foot if it is detached from the body, so you are no longer a man if you are separated from other men. For what is a man?³¹ A part of a state, of that first which consists of Gods and of men; then of that which is called ³² next to it, which is a small image of the universal state. What then must I be brought to trial; must another have a fever, another sail on the sea, another die, and another be condemned? Yes, for it is impossible in such a body, in such a universe of things, among so many living together, that such things should not happen, some to one and others to others. It is your duty then since you are come here, to say what you ought, to arrange these things as it is fit.³³ Then some one says, I shall charge you with doing me wrong. Much good may it do you: I have done my part; but whether you also have done yours, you must look to that; for there is some danger of this too, that it may escape your notice.

Of indifference.

³⁴

THE hypothetical proposition³⁵ is indifferent: the judgment about it is not indifferent, but it is either knowledge or opinion or error. Thus life is indifferent: the use is not indifferent. When any man then tells you that these things also are indifferent, do not become negligent; and when a man invites you to be careful (about such things), do not become abject and struck with admiration of material things. And it is good for you to know your own preparation and power, that in those matters where you have not been prepared, you may keep quiet, and not be vexed, if others have the advantage over you. For you too in syllogisms will claim to have the advantage over them; and if others should be vexed at this, you will console them by saying, I have learned them, and you have not. Thus also where there is need of any practice, seek not that which is acquired from the need (of such practice), but yield in that matter to those who have had practice, and be yourself content with firmness of mind.

Go and salute a certain person. How? Not meanly.— But I have been shut out, for I have not learned to make my way through the window; and when I have found the door shut, I must either come back or enter through the window.—But still speak to him.—In what way? Not meanly. But suppose that you have not got what you wanted. Was this your business, and not his? Why then do you claim that which belongs to another? Always remember what is your own, and what belongs to another; and you will not be disturbed. Chrysippus therefore said well, So long as future things are uncertain, I always cling to those which are more adapted to the conservation of that which is according to nature; for God himself has given me the faculty of such choice. But if I knew that it was fated (in the order of things) for me to be sick, I would even move towards it; for the foot also, if it had intelligence, would move to go into the mud.³⁶ For why are ears of corn produced? Is it not that they may become dry? And do they not become dry that they may be reaped?³⁷ for they are not separated from communion with other things. If then they had perception, ought they to wish never to be reaped? But this is a curse upon ears of corn, to be never reaped. So we must know that in the case of men too it is a curse not to die, just the same as not to be ripened and not to be reaped. But since we must be reaped, and we also know that we are reaped, we are vexed at it; for we neither know what we are nor have we studied what belongs to man, as those who have studied horses know what belongs to horses. But Chrysantas³⁸ when he was going to strike the enemy checked himself when he heard the trumpet sounding a retreat: so it seemed better to him to obey the general’s command than to follow his own inclination. But not one of us chooses, even when necessity summons, readily to obey it, but weeping and groaning we suffer what we do suffer, and we call them circumstances. What kind of circumstances, man? If you give the name of circumstances to the things which are around you, all things are circumstances; but if you call hardships by this name, what hardship is there in the dying of that which has been produced? But that which destroys is either a sword, or a wheel, or the sea, or a tile, or a tyrant. Why do you care about the way of going down to Hades? All ways are equal.³⁹ But if you will listen to the truth, the way which the tyrant sends you is shorter. A tyrant never killed a man in six months: but a fever is often a year about it. All these things are only sound and the noise of empty names.

I am in danger of my life from Caesar.⁴⁰ And am not I in danger who dwell in Nicopolis , where there are so many earthquakes: and when you are crossing the Hadriatic, what hazard do you run? Is it not the hazard of your life? But I am in danger also as to opinion. Do you mean your own? how? For who can compel you to have any opinion which you do not choose? But is it as to another man’s opinion? and what kind of danger is yours, if others have false opinions? But I am in danger of being banished. What is it to be banished? To be somewhere else than at Rome ? Yes: what then if I should be sent to Gyara?⁴¹ If that suits you, you will go there; but if it does not, you can go to another place instead of Gyara, whither he also will go, who sends you to Gyara, whether he choose or not. Why then do you go up to Rome as if it were something great? It is not worth all this preparation, that an ingenuous youth should say, It was not worth while to have heard so much and to have written so much and to have sat so long by the side of an old man who is not worth much. Only remember that division by which your own and not your own are distinguished: never claim any thing which belongs to others. A tribunal and a prison are each a place, one high and the other low; but the will can be maintained equal, if you choose to maintain it equal in each. And we shall then be imitators of Socrates, when we are able to write paeans in prison.⁴² But in our present disposition, consider if we could endure in prison another person saying to us, Would you like me to read Paeans to you?—Why do you trouble me? do you not know the evils which hold me? Can I in such circumstances (listen to paeans)?—What circumstances?—I am going to die.— And will other men be immortal?

How we ought to use divination.

THROUGH an unreasonable regard to divination many of us omit many duties.⁴³ For what more can the diviner see than death or danger or disease, or generally things of that kind? If then I must expose myself to danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, what need have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner who has told me the nature of good and of evil, and has explained to me the signs (or marks) of both? What need have I then to consult the viscera of victims or the flight of birds, and why do I submit when he says, It is for your interest? For does he know what is for my interest, does he know what is good; and as he has learned the signs of the viscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil? For if he knows the signs of these, he knows the signs both of the beautiful and of the ugly, and of the just and of the unjust. Do you tell me, man, what is the thing which is signified for me: is it life or death, poverty or wealth? But whether these things are for my interest or whether they are not, I do not intend to ask you. Why don’t you give your opinion on matters of grammar, and why do you give it here about things on which we are all in error and disputing with one another?⁴⁴ The woman therefore, who intended to send by a vessel a month’s provisions to Gratilla⁴⁵ in her banishment, made a good answer to him who said that Domitian would seize what she sent, I would rather, she replied, that Domitian should seize all than that I should not send it.

What then leads us to frequent use of divination? Cowardice, the dread of what will happen. This is the reason why we flatter the diviners. Pray, master, shall I succeed to the property of my father? Let us see: let us sacrifice on the occasion.—Yes, master, as fortune chooses. —When he has said, You shall succeed to the inheritance, we thank him as if we received the inheritance from him. The consequence is that they play upon us.⁴⁶

What then should we do? We ought to come (to divination) without desire or aversion, as the wayfarer asks of the man whom he meets which of two roads leads (to his journey’s end), without any desire for that which leads to the right rather than to the left, for he has no wish to go by any road except the road which leads (to his end). In the same way ought we to come to God also as a guide; as we use our eyes, not asking them to show us rather such things as we wish, but receiving the appearances of things such as the eyes present them to us. But now we trembling take the augur (bird interpreter)⁴⁷ by the hand, and while we invoke God we intreat the augur, and say Master have mercy on me;⁴⁸ suffer me to come safe out of this difficulty. Wretch, would you have then any thing other than what is best? Is there then any thing better than what pleases God? Why do you, as far as is in your power, corrupt your judge and lead astray your adviser?

What is the nature ( ἡ οὐσία) of the Good

⁴⁹

GOD is beneficial. But the Good also is beneficial.⁵⁰ It is consistent then that where the nature of God is, there also the nature of the good should be. What then is the nature of God?⁵¹ Flesh? Certainly not. An estate in land? By no means. Fame? No. Is it intelligence, knowledge, right reason? Yes. Herein then simply seek the nature of the good; for I suppose that you do not seek it in a plant. No. Do you seek it in an irrational animal? No. If then you seek it in a rational animal, why do you still seek it any where except in the superiority of rational over irrational animals?⁵² Now plants have not even the power of using appearances, and for this reason you do not apply the term good to them. The good then requires the use of appearances. Does it require this use only? For if you say that it requires this use only, say that the good, and that happiness and unhappiness are in irrational animals also. But you do not say this, and you do right; for if they possess even in the highest degree the use of appearances, yet they have not the faculty of understanding the use of appearances; and there is good reason for this, for they exist for the purpose of serving others, and they exercise no superiority. For the ass, I suppose, does not exist for any superiority over others. No; but because we had need of a back which is able to bear something; and in truth we had need also of his being able to walk, and for this reason he received also the faculty of making use of appearances, for other wise he would not have been able to walk. And here then the matter stopped. For if he had also received the faculty of comprehending the use of appearances, it is plain that consistently with reason he would not then have beer subjected to us, nor would he have done us these services, but he would have been equal to us and like to us.

Will you not then seek the nature of good in the rational animal? for if it is not there, you will not choose to say that it exists in any other thing (plant or animal). What then? are not plants and animals also the works of God? They are; but they are not superior things, nor yet parts of the Gods. But you are a superior thing; you are a portion separated from the deity; you have in yourself a certain portion of him. Why then are you ignorant of your own noble descent?⁵³ Why do you not know whence you came? will you not remember when you are eating, who you are who eat and whom you feed? When you are in conjunction with a woman, will you not remember who you are who do this thing? When you are in social intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, when you are engaged in discussion, know you not that you are nourishing a god, that you are exercising a god? Wretch, you are carrying about a god with you, and you know it not.⁵⁴ Do you think that I mean some God of silver or of gold, and external? You carry him within yourself, and you perceive not that you are polluting him by impure thoughts and dirty deeds. And if an image of God were present, you would not dare to do any of the things which you are doing: but when God himself is present within and sees all and hears all, you are not ashamed of thinking such things and doing such things, ignorant as you are of your own nature and subject to the anger of God. Then why do we fear when we are sending a young man from the school into active life, lest he should do anything improperly, eat improperly, have improper intercourse with women; and lest the rags in which he is wrapped should debase him, lest fine garments should make him proud? This youth (if he acts thus) does not know his own God: he knows not with whom he sets out (into the world). But can we endure when he says I wish I had you (God) with me. Have you not God with you? and do you seek for any other, when you have him? or will God tell you any thing else than this? If you were a statue of Phidias, either Athena or Zeus, you would think both of yourself and of the artist, an if you had any understanding (power of perception) you would try to do nothing unworthy of him who made you or of yourself, and try not to appear in an unbecoming dress (attitude) to those who look on you. But now because Zeus has made you, for this reason do you care not how you shall appear? And yet is the artist (in the one case) like the artist in the other? or the work in the one case like the other? And what work of an artist, for instance, has in itself the faculties, which the artist shows in making it? Is it not marble or bronze, or gold or ivory? and the Athena of Phidias when she has once extended the hand and received in it the figure of Victory⁵⁵ stands in that attitude for ever. But the works of God have power of motion, they breathe, they have the faculty of using the appearances of things, and the power of examining them. Being the work of such an artist do you dishonour him? And what shall I say, not only that he made you, but also entrusted you to yourself and made you a deposit to yourself? Will you not think of this too, but do you also dishonour your guardianship? But if God had entrusted an orphan to you, would you thus neglect him? He has delivered yourself to your own care, and says, I had no one fitter to intrust him to than yourself: keep him for me such as he is by nature, modest, faithful, erect, unterrifled, free from passion and perturbation. And then you do not keep him such. But some will say, whence has this fellow got the arrogance which he displays and these supercilious looks?—I have not yet so much gravity as befits a philosopher; for I do not yet feel confidence in what I have learned and in what I have assented to: I still fear my own weakness. Let me get confidence and then you shall see a countenance such as I ought to have and an attitude such as I ought to have: then I will show to you the statue, when it is perfected, when it is polished. What do you expect? a supercilious countenance? Does the Zeus at Olympia ⁵⁶ lift up his brow? No, his look is fixed as becomes him who is ready to say

Irrevocable is my word and shall not fail.

—Iliad, i. 526. Such will I show myself to you, faithful, modest, noble, free from perturbation—What, and immortal too, exempt from old age, and from sickness? No, but dying as becomes a god, sickening as becomes a god. This power I possess; this I can do. But the rest I do not possess, nor can I do. I will show the nerves (strength) of a philosopher. What Lerves⁵⁷ are these? A desire never disappointed, an aversion⁵⁸ which never falls on that which it would avoid, a proper pursuit ( ὁρμήν), a diligent purpose, an assent which is not rash. These you shall see.

That when we cannot fulfil that which the character of a man promises, we assume the character of a philosopher.

It is no common (easy) thing to do this only, to fulfil the promise of a man’s nature. For what is a man? The answer is, a rational and mortal being. Then by the rational faculty from whom are we separated?⁵⁹ From wild beasts. And from what others? From sheep and like animals. Take care then to do nothing like a wild beast; but if you do, you have lost the character of a man; you have not fulfilled your promise. See that you do nothing like a sheep; but if you do, in this case also the man is lost. What then do we do as sheep? When we act gluttonously, when we act lewdly, when we act rashly, filthily, inconsiderately, to what have we declined? To sheep. What have we lost? The rational faculty. When we act contentiously and harmfully and passionately, and violently, to what have we declined? To wild beasts. Consequently some of us are great wild beasts, and others little beasts, of a bad disposition and small, whence we may say, Let me be eaten by a lion.⁶⁰ But in all these ways the promise of a man acting as a man is destroyed. For when is a conjunctive (complex) proposition maintained?⁶¹ When it fulfils what its nature promises; so that the preservation of a complex proposition is when it is a conjunction of truths. When is a disjunctive maintained? When it fulfils what it promises. When are flutes, a lyre, a horse, a dog, preserved? (when they severally keep their promise). What is the wonder then if man also in like manner is preserved, and in like manner is lost? Each man is improved and preserved by corresponding acts, the carpenter by acts of carpentry, the grammarian by acts of grammar. But if a man accustoms himself to write ungrammatically, of necessity his art will be corrupted and destroyed. Thus modest actions preserve the modest man, and immodest actions destroy him: and actions of fidelity preserve the faithful man, and the contrary actions destroy him. And on the other hand contrary actions strengthen contrary characters: shamelessness strengthens the shameless man, faithlessness the faithless man, abusive words the abusive man, anger the man of an angry temper, and unequal receiving and giving make the avaricious man more avaricious.

For this reason philosophers admonish us not to be satisfied with learning only, but also to add study, and then practice.⁶² For we have long been accustomed to do contrary things, and we put in practice opinions which are contrary to true opinions. If then we shall not also put in practice right opinions, we shall be nothing more than the expositors of the opinions of others. For now who among us is not able to discourse according to the rules of art about good and evil things (in this fashion)? That of things some are good, and some are bad, and some are indifferent: the good then are virtues, and the things which participate in virtues; and the bad are the contrary; and the indifferent are wealth, health, reputation.— Then, if in the midst of our talk there should happen some greater noise than usual, or some of those who are present should laugh at us, we are disturbed. Philosopher, where are the things which you were talking about? Whence did you produce and utter them. From the lips, and thence only. Why then do you corrupt the aids provided by others? Why do you treat the weightiest matters as if you were playing a game of dice? For it is one thing to lay up bread and wine as in a storehouse, and another thing to eat. That which has been eaten, is digested, distributed, and is become sinews, flesh, bones, blood, healthy colour, healthy breath. Whatever is stored up, when you choose you can readily take and show it; but you have no other advantage from it except so far as to appear to possess it. For what is the difference between explaining these doctrines and those of men who have different opinions? Sit down now and explain according to the rules of art the opinions of Epicurus, and perhaps you will explain his opinions in a more useful manner than Epicurus himself.⁶³ Why then do you call yourself a Stoic? Why do you deceive the many? Why do you act the part of a Jew,⁶⁴ when you are a Greek? Do you not see how (why) each is called a Jew, or a Syrian or an Egyptian? and when we see a man inclining to two sides, we are accustomed to say, This man is not a Jew, but he acts as one. But when he has assumed the affects of one who has been imbued with Jewish doctrine and has adopted that sect, then he is in fact and he is named a Jew.⁶⁵ Thus we too being falsely imbued (baptized), are in name Jews, but in fact we are something else. Our affects (feelings) are inconsistent with our words; we are far from practising what we say, and that of which we are proud, as if we knew it. Thus being unable to fulfil even what the character of a man promises, we even add to it the profession of a philosopher, which is as heavy a burden, as if a man who is unable to bear ten pounds should attempt to raise the stone which Ajax⁶⁶ lifted.

How we may discover the duties of life from names.

CONSIDER who you are. In the first place, you are a man⁶⁷ and this is one who has nothing superior to the faculty of the will, but all other things subjected to it; and the faculty itself he possesses unenslaved and free from subjection. Consider then from what things you have been separated by reason. You have been separated from wild beasts: you have been separated from domestic animals ( προβάτων). Further, you are a citizen of the world,⁶⁸ and a part of it, not one of the subservient (serving), but one of the principal (ruling) parts, for you are capable of comprehending the divine administration and of considering the connexion of things. What then does the character of a citizen promise (profess)? To hold nothing as profitable to himself; to deliberate about nothing as if he were detached from the community, but to act as the hand or foot would do, if they had reason and understood the constitution of nature, for they would never put themselves in motion nor desire any thing otherwise than with reference to the whole. Therefore the philosophers say well, that if the good man had foreknowledge of what would happen, he would co-operate towards his own sickness and death and mutilation, since he knows⁶⁹ that these things are assigned to him according to the universal arrangement, and that the whole is superior to the part, and the state to the citizen.⁷⁰ But now because we do not know the future, it is our duty to stick to the things which are in their nature more suitable for our choice, for we were made among other things for this.

After this remember that you are a son. What does this character promise? To consider that every thing which is the son’s belongs to the father, to obey him in all things, never to blame him to another, nor to say or do any thing which does him injury, to yield to him in all things and give way, co-operating with him as far as you can. After this know that you are a brother also, and that to this character it is due to make concessions; to be easily persuaded, to speak good of your brother, never to claim in opposition to him any of the things which are independent of the will, but readily to give them up, that you may have the larger share in what is dependent on the will. For see what a thing it is, in place of a lettuce, if it should so happen, or a seat, to gain for yourself goodness of disposition. How great is the advantage.⁷¹

Next to this, if you are a senator of any state, remember that you are a senator: if a youth, that you are a youth: if an old man, that you are an old man; for each of such names, if it comes to be examined, marks out the proper duties. But if you go and blame your brother, I say to you, You have forgotten who you are and what is your name. In the next place, if you were a smith and made a wrong use of the hammer, you would have forgotten the smith; and if you have forgotten the brother and instead of a brother have become an enemy, would you appear not to have changed one thing for another in that case? And if instead of a man, who is a tame animal and social, you are become a mischievous wild beast, treacherous, and biting, have you lost nothing? But, (I suppose) you must lose a bit of money that you may suffer damage? And does the loss of nothing else do a man damage? If you had lost the art of grammar or music, would you think the loss of it a damage? and if you shall lose modesty, moderation ( καταστολήν) and gentleness, do you think the loss nothing? And yet the things first mentioned are lost by some cause external and independent of the will, and the second by our own fault; and as to the first neither to have them nor to lose them is shameful; but as to the second, not to have them and to lose them is shameful and matter of reproach and a misfortune. What does the pathic lose? He loses the (character of) man. What does he lose who makes the pathic what he is? Many other things; and he also loses the man no less than the other. What does he lose who commits adultery? He loses the (character of the) modest, the temperate, the decent, the citizen, the neighbour. What does he lose who is angry? Something else. What does the coward lose? Something else. No man is bad without suffering some loss and damage. If then you look for the damage in the loss of money only, all these men receive no harm or damage; it may be, they have even profit and gain, when they acquire a bit of money by any of these deeds. But consider that if you refer every thing to a small coin, not even he who loses his nose is in your opinion damaged. Yes, you say, for he is mutilated in his body. Well; but does he who has lost his smell only lose nothing? Is there then no energy of the soul which is an advantage to him who possesses it, and a damage to him who has lost it?— Tell me what sort (of energy) you mean.—Have we not a natural modesty?—We have.—Does he who loses this sustain no damage? is he deprived of nothing, does he part with nothing of the things which belong to him? Have we not naturally fidelity? natural affection, a natural disposition to help others, a natural disposition to forbearance? The man then who allows himself to be damaged in these matters, can he be free from harm and uninjured⁷² What then? shall I not hurt him, who has hurt me?⁷³ In the first place consider what hurt ( βλάβη) is, and remember what you have heard from the philosophers. For if the good consists in the will (purpose, intention, προαιρέσει), and the evil also in the will,⁷⁴ see if what you say is not this: What then, since that man has hurt himself by doing an unjust act to me, shall I not hurt myself by doing some unjust act to him? Why do we not imagine to ourselves (mentally think of) something of this kind? But where there is any detriment to the body or to our possession, there is harm there; and where the same thing happens to the faculty of the will, there is (you suppose) no harm; for he who has been deceived or he who has done an unjust act neither suffers in the head nor in the eye nor in the hip, nor does he lose his estate; and we wish for nothing else than (security to) these things. But whether we shall have the will modest and faithful or shameless and faithless, we care not the least, except only in the school so far as a few words are concerned. Therefore our proficiency is limited to these few words; but beyond them it does not exist even in the slightest degree.⁷⁵

What the beginning of philosophy is.

THE beginning of philosophy to him at least who enters on it in the right way and by the door, is a consciousness of his own weakness and inability about necessary things. For we come into the world with no natural notion of a right angled triangle, or of a diesis (a quarter tone), or of a half tone; but we learn each of these things by a certain transmission according to art; and for this reason those who do not know them, do not think that they know them. But as to good and evil, and beautiful and ugly, and becoming and unbecoming, and happiness and misfortune, and proper and improper, and what we ought to do and what we ought not to do, who ever came into the world without having an innate idea of them? Wherefore we all use these names, and we endeavour to fit the preconceptions⁷⁶ to the several cases (things) thus: he has done well, he has not done well; he has done as he ought, not as he ought; he has been unfortunate, he has been fortunate; he is unjust, he is just: who does not use these names? who among us defers the use of them till he has learned them, as he defers the use of the words about lines (geometrical figures) or sounds? And the cause of this is that we come into the world already taught as it were by nature some things on this matter ( τόπον), and proceeding from these we have added to them self—conceit ( οἴησιν).⁷⁷ For why, a man says, do I not know the beautiful and the ugly? Have I not the notion of it? You have. Do I not adapt it to particulars? You do. Do I not then adapt it properly? In that lies the whole question; and conceit is added here. For beginning from these things which are admitted men proceed to that which is matter of dispute by means of unsuitable adaptation; for if they possessed this power of adaptation in addition to those things, what would hinder them from being perfect? But now since you think that you properly adapt the preconceptions to the particulars, tell me whence you derive this (assume that you do so). Because I think so. But it does not seem so to another, and he thinks that he also makes a proper adaptation; or does he not think so? He does think so. Is it possible then that both of you can properly apply the preconceptions to things about which you have contrary opinions? It is not possible. Can you then show us anything better towards adapting the preconceptions beyond your thinking that you do? Does the madman do any other things than the things which seem to him right? Is then this criterion sufficient for him also? It is not sufficient. Come then to something which is superior to seeming ( τοῦ δοκεῖν). What is this?

Observe, this is the beginning of philosophy, a perception of the disagreement of men with one another, and an inquiry into the cause of the disagreement, and a condemnation and distrust of that which only seems, and a certain investigation of that which seems whether it seems rightly, and a discovery of some rule ( κανόνος), as we have discovered a balance in the determination of weights, and a carpenter’s rule (or square) in the case of straight and crooked things.—This is the beginning of philosophy. Must we say that all things are right which seem so to all?⁷⁸ And how is it possible that contradictions can be right?—Not all then, but all which seem to us to be right.—How more to you than those which seem right to the Syrians? why more than what seem right to the Egyptians? why more than what seems right to me or to any other man? Not at all more. What then seems to every man is not sufficient for determining what is. for neither in the case of weights or measures are we satisfied with the bare appearance, but in each case we have discovered a certain rule. In this matter then is there no rule superior to what ’seems’? And how is it possible that the most necessary things among men should have no sign (mark), and be incapable of being discovered? There is then some rule. And why then do we not seek the rule and discover it, and afterwards use it without varying from it, not even stretching out the finger without it?⁷⁹ For this, I think, is that which when it is discovered cures of their madness those who use mere seeming as a measure, and misuse it; so that for the future proceeding from certain things (principles) known and made clear we may use in the case of particular things the preconceptions which are distinctly fixed.

What is the matter presented to us about which we are inquiring? Pleasure (for example). Subject it to the rule, throw it into the balance. Ought the good to be such a thing that it is fit that we have confidence in it? Yes. And in which we ought to confide? It ought to be. Is it fit to trust to any thing which is insecure? No. Is then pleasure any thing secure? No. Take it Then and throw it out of the scale, and drive it far away from the place of good things. But if you are not sharp-sighted, and one balance is not enough for you, bring another. Is it fit to be elated over what is good? Yes. Is it proper then to be elated over present pleasure? See that you do not say that it is proper; but if you do, I shall then not think you worthy even of the balance.⁸⁰ Thus things are tested and weighed when the rules are ready. And to philosophize is this, to examine and confirm the rules; and then to use them when they are known is the act of a wise and good man.⁸¹

Of disputation or discussion.

WHAT things a man must learn in order to be able to apply the art of disputation, has been accurately shown by our philosophers (the Stoics); but with respect to the proper use of the things, we are entirely without practice. Only give to any of us, whom you please, an illiterate man to discuss with, and he can not discover how to deal with the man. But when he has moved the man a little, if he answers beside the purpose, he does not know how to treat him, but he then either abuses or ridicules him, and says, He is an illiterate man; it is not possible to do any thing with him. Now a guide, when he has found a man out of the road leads him into the right way: he does not ridieule or abuse him and then leave him. Do you also show the illiterate man the truth, and you will see that he fellows. But so long as you do not show him the truth, do not ridicule him, but rather feel your own incapacity.

How then did Socrates act? He used to compel his adversary in disputation to bear testimony to him, and he wanted no other witness.⁸² Therefore he could say, I care not for other witnesses, but I am always satisfied with the evidence (testimony) of my adversary, and I do not ask the opinion of others, but only the opinion of him who is disputing with me. For he used to make the conclusions drawn from natural notions⁸³ so plain that every man saw the contradiction (if it existed) and withdrew from it (thus): Does the envious⁸⁴ man rejoice? By no means, but he is rather pained.⁸⁵ Well, Do you think that envy is pain over evils? and what envy is there of evils? Therefore he made his adversary say that envy is pain over good things. Well then, would any man envy those who are nothing to him? By no means. Thus having completed the notion and distinctly fixed it he would go away without saying to his adversary, Define to me envy; and if the adversary had defined envy, he did not say, You have defined it badly, for the terms of the definition do not correspond to the thing defined—These are technical terms, and for this reason disagreeable and hardly intelligible to illiterate men, which terms we (philosophers) cannot lay aside. But that the illiterate man himself, who follows the appearances presented to him, should be able to concede any thing or reject it, we can never by the use of these terms move him to do.⁸⁶ Accordingly being conscious of our own inability, we do not attempt the thing; at least such of us as have any caution do not. But the greater part and the rash, when they enter into such disputations, confuse themselves and confuse others; and finally abusing their adversaries and abused by them, they walk away. Now this was the first and chief peculiarity of Socrates, never to be irritated in argument, never to utter any thing abusive, any thing insulting, but to bear with abusive persons and to put an end to the quarrel. If you would know what great power he had in this way, read the Symposium of Xenophon,⁸⁷ and you will see how many quarrels he put an end to. Hence with good reason in the poets also this power is most highly praised,

Quickly with skill he settles great disputes.

Hesiod, Theogony, v. 87. Well then; the matter is not now very safe, and particularly at Rome ; for he who attempts to do it, must not do it in a corner, you may be sure, but must go to a man of consular rank, if it so happen, or to a rich man, and ask him, Can you tell me, Sir, to whose care you have entrusted your horses? I can tell you. Have you entrusted them to any person indifferently and to one who has no experience of horses?—By no means.—Well then; can you tell me to whom you entrust your gold or silver things or your vestments? I don’t entrust even these to any one indifferently. Well; your own body, have you already considered about entrusting the care of it to any person?—Certainly.—To a man of experience, I suppose, and one acquainted with the aliptic,⁸⁸ or with the healing art?—Without doubt.—Are these the best things that you have, or do you also possess something else which is better than all these?—What kind of a thing do you mean?— That I mean which makes use of these things, and tests each of them, and deliberates.—Is it the soul that you mean?—You think right, for it is the soul that I mean.— In truth I do think that the soul is a much better thing than all the others which I possess.—Can you then show us in what way you have taken care of the soul? for it is not likely that you, who are so wise a man and have a reputation in the city, inconsiderately and carelessly allow the most valuable thing that you possess to be neglected and to perish.—Certainly not.—But have you taken care of the soul yourself; and have you learned from another to do this, or have you discovered the means yourself?— Here comes the danger that in the first place he may say, What is this to you, my good man, who are you? Next, if you persist in troubling him, there is danger that he may raise his hands and give you blows. I was once myself also an admirer of this mode of instruction until I fell into these dangers.⁸⁹

On anxiety (solicitude).

WHEN I see a man anxious, I say, What does this man want? If he did not want some thing which is not in his power, how could he be anxious? For this reason a lute player when he is singing by himself has no anxiety, but when he enters the theatre, he is anxious even if he has a good voice and plays well on the lute; for he not only wishes to sing well, but also to obtain applause: but this is not in his power. Accordingly, where he has skill, there he has confidence. Bring any single person who knows nothing of music, and the musician does not care for him. But in the matter where a man knows nothing and has not been practised, there he is anxious. What matter is this? He knows not what a crowd is or what the praise of a crowd is. However he has learned to strike the lowest chord and the highest;⁹⁰ but what the praise of the many is, and what power it has in life he neither knows nor has he thought about it. Hence he must of necessity tremble and grow pale. I cannot then say that a man is not a lute player when I see him afraid, but I can say something else, and not one thing, but many. And first of all I call him a stranger and say, This man does not know in what part of the world he is, but though he has been here so long, he is ignorant of the laws of the State and the customs, and what is permitted and what is not; and he has never employed any lawyer to tell him and to explain the laws. But a man does not write a will, if he does not know how it ought to be written, or he employs a person who does know; nor does he rashly seal a bond or write a security. But he uses his desire without a lawyer’s advice, and aversion, and pursuit (movement), and attempt and purpose. How do you mean without a lawyer? He does not know that he wills what is not allowed, and does not will that which is of necessity; and he does not know either what is his own or what is another man’s; but if he did know, he would never be impeded, he would never be hindered, he would not be anxious. How so?—Is any man then afraid about things which are not evils?—No.—Is he afraid about things which are evils, but still so far within his power that they may not happen?—Certainly he is not.— If then the things which are independent of the will are neither good nor bad, and all things which do depend on the will are within our power, and no man can either take them from us or give them to us, if we do not choose, where is room left for anxiety? But we are anxious about our poor body, our little property, about the will of Caesar; but not anxious about things internal. Are we anxious about not forming a false opinion?—No, for this is in my power.—About not exerting our movements contrary to nature?—No, not even about this.—When then you see a man pale, as the physician says, judging from the complexion, this man’s spleen is disordered, that man’s liver; so also say, this man’s desire and aversion are disordered, he is not in the right way, he is in a fever. For nothing else changes the colour, or causes trembling or chattering of the teeth, or causes a man to

Sink in his knees and shift from foot to foot.

—Iliad, xiii. 281. For this reason when Zeno was going to meet Antigonus,⁹¹ he was not anxious, for Antigonus had no power over any of the things which Zeno admired; and Zeno did not care for those things over which Antigonus had power. But Antigonus was anxious when he was going to meet Zeno, for he wished to please Zeno; but this was a thing external (out of his power). But Zeno did not want to please Antigonus; for no man who is skilled in any art wishes to please one who has no such skill.

Should I try to please you? Why? I suppose, you know the measure by which one man is estimated by another. Have you taken pains to learn what is a good man and what is a bad man, and how a man becomes one or the other? Why then are you not good yourself? —How, he replies, am I not good?—Because no good man laments or groans or weeps, no good man is pale and trembles, or says, How will he receive me, how will he listen to me?—Slave, just as it pleases him. Why do you care about what belongs to others? Is it now his fault if he receives badly what proceeds from you?—Certainly.— And is it possible that a fault should be one man’s, and the evil in another?—No.—Why then are you anxious about that which belongs to others?—Your question is reasonable; but I am anxious how I shall speak to him. Cannot you then speak to him as you choose?—But I fear that I may be disconcerted?—If you are going to write the name of Dion, are you afraid that you would be disconcerted?—By no means.—Why? is it not because you have practised writing the name?—Certainly.—Well, if you were going to read the name, would you not feel the same? and why? Because every art has a certain strength and confidence in the things which belong to it. —Have you then not practised speaking? and what else did you learn in the school? Syllogisms and sophistical propositions?⁹² For what purpose? was it not for the purpose of discoursing skilfully? and is not discoursing skilfully the same as discoursing seasonably and cautiously and with intelligence, and also without making mistakes and without hindrance, and besides all this with confidence?— Yes.—When then you are mounted on a horse and go into a plain, are you anxious at being matched against a man who is on foot, and anxious in a matter in which you are practised, and he is not?—Yes, but that person (to whom I am going to speak) has power to kill me.⁹³ Speak the truth then, unhappy man, and do not brag, nor claim to be a philosopher, nor refuse to acknowledge your masters, but so long as you present this handle in your body, follow every man who is stronger than yourself. So, crates used to practise speaking, he who talked as he did to the tyrants,⁹⁴ to the dicasts (judges), he who talked in his prison. Diogenes had practised speaking, he who spoke as he did to Alexander, to the pirates, to the person who bought him. These men were confident in the things which they practised.⁹⁵ But do you walk off to your own affairs and never leave them: go and sit in a corner, and weave syllogisms, and propose them to another. There is not in you the man who can rule a state.

To Naso.

WHEN a certain Roman entered with his son and listened to one reading, Epictetus said, This is the method of instruction; and he stopped. When the Roman asked him to go on, Epictetus said, Every art when it is taught causes labour to him who is unacquainted with it and is unskilled in it, and indeed the things which proceed from the arts immediately show their use in the purpose for which they were made; and most of them contain something attractive and pleasing. For indeed to be present and to observe how a shoemaker learns is not a pleasant thing; but the shoe is useful and also not disagreeable to look at. And the discipline of a smith when he is learning is very disagreeable to one who chances to be present and is a stranger to the art: but the work shows the use of the art. But you will see this much more in music; for if you are present while a person is learning, the discipline will appear most disagreeable; and yet the results of music are pleasing and delightful to those who know nothing of music. And here we conceive the work of a philosopher to be something of this kind: he must adapt his wish ( βούλησιν) to what is going on,⁹⁶ so that neither any of the things which are taking place shall take place contrary to our wish, nor any of the things which do not take place shall not take place when we wish that they should. From this the result is to those who have so arranged the work of philosophy, not to fail in the desire, nor to fall in with that which they would avoid; without uneasiness, without fear, without perturbation to pass through life themselves, together with their associates maintaining the relations both natural and acquired,⁹⁷ as the relation of son, of father, of brother, of citizen, of man, of wife, of neighbour, of fellow traveller, of ruler, of ruled. The work of a philosopher we conceive to be something like this. It remains next to inquire how this must be accomplished.

We see then that the carpenter ( τέκτων) when he has learned certain things becomes a carpenter; the pilot by learning certain things becomes a pilot. May it not then in philosophy also not be sufficient to wish to be wise and good, and that there is also a necessity to learn certain things? We inquire then what these things are. The philosophers say that we ought first to learn that there is a God and that he provides for all things; also that it is not possible to conceal from him our acts, or even our intentions and thoughts.⁹⁸ The next thing is to learn what is the nature of the Gods; for such as they are discovered to be, he, who would please and obey them, must try with all his power to be like them. If the divine is faithful, man also must be faithful; if it is free, man also must be free; if beneficent, man also must be beneficent; if magnanimous, mall also must be magnanimous; as being then an imitator of God he must do and say every thing consistently with this fact.

With what then must we begin? If you will enter on the discussion, I will tell you that you must first understand names⁹⁹ (words).—So then you say that I do not now understand names.—You do not understand them.— How then do I use them?—Just as the illiterate use written language, as cattle use appearances: for use is one thing, understanding is another. But if you think that you understand them, produce whatever word you please, and let us try whether we understand it.—But it is a disagreeable thing for a man to be confuted who is now old, and, it may be, has now served his three campaigns.—I too know this: for now you are come to me as if you were in want of nothing: and what could you even imagine to be wanting to you? You are rich, you have children and a wife perhaps, and many slaves: Caesar knows you, in Rome you have many friends, you render their dues to all, you know how to requite him who does you a favour, and to repay in the same kind him who does you a wrong. What do you lack? If then I shall shew you that you lack the things most necessary and the chief things for happiness, and that hitherto you have looked after every thing rather than what you ought, and, to crown all,¹⁰⁰ that you neither know what God is nor what man is, nor what is good nor what is bad; and as to what I have said about your ignorance of other matters, that may perhaps be endured, but if I say that you know nothing about yourself, how is it possible that you should endure me and bear the proof and stay here? It is not possible; but you immediately go off in bad humour. And yet what harm have I done you? unless the mirror also injures the ugly man because it shows him to himself such as he is; unless the physician also is supposed to insult the sick man, when he says to him, Man, do you think that you ail nothing? But you have a fever: go without food to—day; drink water. And no one says, what an insult! But if you say to a man, Your desires are inflamed, your aversions are low, your intentions are inconsistent, your pursuits (movements) are not conformable to nature, your opinions are rash and false, the man immediately goes away and says, He has insulted me.

Our way of dealing is like that of a crowded assembly.¹⁰¹ Beasts are brought to be sold and oxen; and the greater part of the men come to buy and sell, and there are some few who come to look at the market and to inquire how it is carried on, and why, and who fixes the meeting and for what purpose. So it is here also in this assembly (of life): some like cattle trouble themselves about nothing except their fodder. For to all of you who are busy about possessions and lands and slaves and magisterial offices, these are nothing except fodder. But there are a few who attend the assembly, men who love to look on and consider what is the world, who governs it. Has it no governor?¹⁰² And how is it possible that a city or a family cannot continue to exist, not even the shortest time without an administrator and guardian, and that so great and beautiful a system should be administered with such order and yet without a purpose and by chance?¹⁰³ There is then an administrator. What kind of administrator and how does he govern? And who are we, who were produced by him, and for what purpose? Have we some connexion with him and some relation towards him, or none? This is the way in which these few are affected, and then they apply themselves only to this one thing, to examine the meeting and then to go away. What then? They are ridiculed by the many, as the spectators at the fair are by the traders; and if the beasts had any understanding, they would ridicule those who admired anything else than fodder.

To or against those who obstinately persist in what they have determined.

WHEN some persons have heard these words, that a man ought to be constant (firm), and that [the will is naturally free and not subject to compulsion, but that all other things are subject to hindrance, to slavery, and are in the power of others, they suppose that they ought without deviation to abide by every thing which they have determined. But in the first place that which has been determined ought to be sound (true). I require tone (sinews) in the body, but such as exists in a healthy body, in an athletic body; but if it is plain to me that you have the tone of a phrensied man and you boast of it, I shall say to you, man, seek the physician: this is not tone, but atony (deficiency in right tone). In a different way something of the same kind is felt by those who listen to these discourses in a wrong manner; which was the case with one of my companions who for no reason resolved to starve himself to death.¹⁰⁴ I heard of it when it was the third day of his abstinence from food and I went to inquire what had happened. I have resolved, he said.—But still tell me what it was which induced you to resolve; for if you have resolved rightly, we shall sit with you and assist you to depart; but if you have made an unreasonable resolution, change your mind.—We ought to keep to our determinations. —What are you doing, man? We ought to keep not to all our determinations, but to those which are right; for if you are now persuaded that it is night, do not change your mind, if you think fit, but persist and say, we ought to abide by our determinations. Will you not make the beginning and lay the foundation in an inquiry whether the determination is sound or not sound, and so then build on it firmness and security? But if you lay a rotten and ruinous foundation, will not your miserable little building fall down the sooner, the more and the stronger are the materials which you shall lay on it? Without any reason would you withdraw from us out of life a man who is a friend, and a companion, a citizen of the same city, both the great and the small city?¹⁰⁵ Then while you are committing murder and destroying a man who has done no wrong, do you say that you ought to abide by your determinations? And if it ever in any way came into your head to kill me, ought you to abide by your determinations?

Now this man was with difficulty persuaded to change his mind. But it is impossible to convince some persons at present; so that I seem now to know, what I did not know before, the meaning of the common saying, That you can neither persuade nor break a fool.¹⁰⁶ May it never be my lot to have a wise fool for my friend: nothing is more untractable, I am determined, the man says. Madmen are also; but the more firmly they form a judgment on things which do not exist, the more ellebore¹⁰⁷ they require. Will you not act like a sick man and call in the physician?—I am sick, master, help me; consider what I must do: it is my duty to obey you. So it is here also: I know not what I ought to do, but I am come to learn.—Not so; but speak to me about other things: upon this I have determined.—What other things? for what is greater and more useful than for you to be persuaded that it is not sufficient to have made your determination and not to change it. This is the tone (energy) of madness, not of health.—I will die, if you compel me to this.—Why, man? What has happened?—I have determined—I have had a lucky escape that you have not determined to kill me—I take no money.¹⁰⁸ Why?—I have determined—Be assured that with the very tone (energy) which you now use in refusing to take, there is nothing to hinder you at some time from inclining without reason to take money and then saying, I have determined. As in a distempered body, subject to defluxions, the humour inclines sometimes to these parts, and then to those, so too a sickly soul knows not which way to incline: but if to this inclination and movement there is added a tone (obstinate resolution), then the evil becomes past help and cure.

That we do not strive to use our opinions about good and evil.

WHERE is the good? In the will.¹⁰⁹ Where is the evil? In the will. Where is neither of them? In those things which are independent of the will. Well then? Does any one among us think of these lessons out of the schools? Does any one meditate (strive) by himself to give an answer to things¹¹⁰ as in the case of questions? Is it day?—Yes.—Is it night?—No.—Well, is the number of stars even?¹¹¹—I cannot say.—When money is shown (offered) to you, have you studied to make the proper answer, that money is not a good thing? Have you practised yourself in these answers, or only against sophisms? Why do you wonder then if in the cases which you have studied, in those you have improved; but in those which you have not studied, in those you remain the same? When the rhetorician knows that he has written well, that he has committed to memory what he has written, and brings an agreeable voice, why is he still anxious? Because he is not satisfied with having studied. What then does he want? To be praised by the audience? For the purpose then of being able to practise declamation he has been disciplined; but with respect to praise and blame he has not been disciplined. For when did he hear from any one what praise is, what blame is, what the nature of each is, what kind of praise should be sought, or what kind of blame should be shunned? And when did he practise this discipline which follows these words (things)?¹¹² Why then do you still wonder, if in the matters which a man has learned, there he surpasses others, and in those in which he has not been disciplined, there he is the same with the many. So the lute player knows how to play, sings well, and has a fine dress, and yet he trembles when he enters on the stage; for these matters he understands, but he does not know what a crowd is, nor the shouts of a crowd, nor what ridicule is. Neither does he know what anxiety is, whether it is our work or the work of another, whether it is possible to stop it or not. For this reason if he has been praised, he leaves the theatre puffed up, but if he has been ridiculed, the swollen bladder has been punctured and subsides.

This is the case also with ourselves. What do we admire? Externals. About what things are we busy? Externals. And have we any doubt then why we fear or why we are anxious? What then happens when we think the things, which are coming on us, to be evils? It is not in our power not to be afraid, it is not in our power not to be anxious. Then we say, Lord God, how shall I not be anxious? Fool, have you not hands, did not God make them for you? Sit down now and pray that your nose may not run.¹¹³ Wipe yourself rather and do not blame him. Well then, has he given to you nothing in the present case? Has he not given to you endurance? has he not given to you magnanimity? has he not given to you manliness? When you have such hands, do you still look for one who shall wipe your nose? But we neither study these things nor care for them. Give me a man who cares how he shall do any thing, not for the obtaining of a thing, but who cares about his own energy. What man, when he is walking about, cares for his own energy? who, when he is deliberating, cares about his own deliberation, and not about obtaining that about which he deliberates? And if he succeeds, he is elated and says, How well we have deliberated; did I not tell you, brother, that it is impossible, when we have thought about any thing, that it should not turn out thus? But if the thing should turn out otherwise, the wretched man is humbled; he knows not even what to say about what has taken place. Who among us for the sake of this matter has consulted a seer? Who among us as to his actions has not slept in indifference?¹¹⁴ Who? Give (name) tome one that I may see the man whom I have long been looking for, who is truly noble and ingenuous, whether young or old; name him.¹¹⁵

Why then are we still surprised, if we are well practised in thinking about matters (any given subject), but in our acts are low, without decency, worthless, cowardly, impatient of labour, altogether bad? For we do not care about these things nor do we study them. But if we had feared not death or banishment, but fear itself,¹¹⁶ we should have studied not to fall into those things which appear to us evils. Now in the school we are irritable and wordy; and if any little question arises about any of these things, we are able to examine them fully. But drag us to practice, and you will find us miserably shipwrecked. Let some disturbing appearance come on us, and you will know what we have been studying and in what we have been exercising ourselves. Consequently through want of discipline we are always adding something to the appearance and representing things to be greater than what they are. For instance as to myself, when I am on a voyage and look down on the deep sea, or look round on it and see no land, I am out of my mind and imagine that I must drink up all this water if I am wrecked, and it does not occur to me that three pints are enough. What then disturbs me? The sea? No, but my opinion. Again, when an earthquake shall happen, I imagine that the city is going to fall on me; but is not one little stone enough to knock my brains out?

What then are the things which are heavy on us and disturb us? What else than opinions? What else then opinions lies heavy upon him who goes away and leaves his companions and friends and places and habits of life? Now little children, for instance, when they cry on the nurse leaving them for a short time, forget their sorrow if they receive a small cake. Do you choose then that we should compare you to little children?—No, by Zeus, for I do not wish to be pacified by a small cake, but by right opinions.—And what are these? Such as a man ought to study all day, and not to be affected by any thing that is not his own, neither by companion nor place nor gymnasia, and not even by his own body, but to remember the law and to have it before his eyes. And what is the divine law? To keep a man’s own, not to claim that which belongs to others, but to use what is given, and when it is not given, not to desire it; and when a thing is taken away, to give it up readily and immediately, and to be thankful for the time that a man has had the use of it, if you would not cry for your nurse and mamma. For what matter does it make by what thing a man is subdued, and on what he depends? In what respect are you better than he who cries for a girl, if you grieve for a little gymnasium, and little porticoes and young men and such places of amusement? Another comes and laments that he shall no longer drink the water of Dirce. Is the Marcian water worse than that of Dirce? But I was used to the water of Dirce.¹¹⁷ And you in turn will be used to the other. Then if you become attached to this also, cry for this too, and try to make a verse like the verse of Euripides,

The hot baths of Nero and the Marcian water.

See how tragedy is made when common things happen to silly men.

When then shall I see Athens again and the Acropolis? Wretch, are you not content with what you see daily? have you any thing better or greater to see than the sun, the moon, the stars, the whole earth, the sea? But if indeed you comprehend him who administers the Whole, and carry him about in yourself, do you still desire small stones, and a beautiful rock?¹¹⁸ When then you are going to leave the sun itself and the moon, what will you do? will you sit and weep like children? Well, what have you been doing in the school? what did you hear, what did you learn? why did you write yourself a philosopher, when you might have written the truth; as, I made certain introductions,¹¹⁹ and I read Chrysippus, but I did not even approach the door of a philosopher. For how should I¹²⁰ possess any thing of the kind which Socrates possessed, who died as he did, who lived as he did, or any thing such as Diogenes possessed? Do you think that any one of such men wept or grieved, because he was not going to see a certain man, or a certain woman, nor to be in Athens or in Corinth , but, if it should so happen, in Susa or in Ecbatana ? For if a man can quit the banquet when he chooses, and no longer amuse himself, does he still stay and complain, and does he not stay, as at any amusement, only so long as he is pleased? Such a man, I suppose, would endure perpetual exile or to be condemned to death. Will you not be weaned now, like children, and take more solid food, and not cry after mammas and nurses, which are the lamentations of old women?—But if I go away, I shall cause them sorrow.—You cause them sorrow? By no means; but that will cause them sorrow which also causes you sorrow, opinion. What have you to do then? Take away your own opinion, and if these women are wise, they will take away their own: if they do not, they will lament through their own fault.

My man, as the proverb says, make a desperate effort on behalf of tranquillity of mind, freedom and magnanimity. Lift up your head at last as released from slavery. Dare to look up to God and say, Deal with me for the future as thou wilt; I am of the same mind as thou art; I am thine:¹²¹ I refuse nothing that pleases thee: lead me where thou wilt: clothe me in any dress thou choosest: is it thy will that I should hold the office of a magistrate, that I should be in the condition of a private man, stay here or be an exile, be poor, be rich? I will make thy defence to men in behalf of all these conditions:¹²² I will shew the nature of each thing what it is.—You will not do so; but sit in an ox’s belly¹²³ and wait for your mamma till she shall feed you. Who would Hercules have been, if he had sat at home? He would have been Eurystheus and not Hercules. Well, and in his travels through the world how many intimates and how many friends had he? But nothing more dear to him than God. For this reason it was believed that he was the son of God, and he was. In obedience to God then he went about purging away injustice and lawlessness. But you are not Hercules and you are not able to purge away the wickedness of others; nor yet are you Theseus, able to purge away the evil things of Attica Clear away your own. From yourself, from your thoughts cast away instead of Procrustes and Sciron,¹²⁴ sadness, fear, desire, envy, malevolence, avarice, effeminacy, intemperance. But it is not possible to eject these things otherwise than by looking to God only, by fixing your affections on him only, by being consecrated to his commands. But if you choose any thing else, you will with sighs and groans be compelled to follow¹²⁵ what is stronger than yourself, always seeking tranquillity and never able to find it; for you seek tranquillity there where it is not, and you neglect to seek it where it is.

How we must adapt preconceptions to particular cases.

WHAT is the first business of him who philosophizes? To throw away self-conceit ( οἴησις).¹²⁶ For it is impossible for a man to begin to learn that which he thinks that he knows. As to things then which ought to be done and ought not to be done, and good and bad, and beautiful and ugly, all of us talking of them at random go to the philosophers; and on these matters we praise, we censure, we accuse, we blame, we judge and determine about principles honourable and dishonourable. But why do we go to the philosophers? Because we wish to learn what we do not think that we know. And what is this? Theorems.¹²⁷ For we wish to learn what philosophers say as being something elegant and acute; and some wish to learn that they may get profit from what they learn. It is ridiculous then to think that a person wishes to learn one thing, and will learn another; or further, that a man will make proficiency in that which he does not learn. But the many are deceived by this which deceived also the rhetorician Theopompus,¹²⁸ when he blames even Plato for wishing everything to be defined. For what does he say? Did none of us before you use the words Good or Just, or do we utter the sounds in an unmeaning and empty way without understanding what they severally signify? Now who tells you, Theopompus, that we had not natural notions of each of these things and preconceptions ( προλήψεις)? But it is not possible to adapt preconceptions to their correspondent objects if we have not distinguished (analyzed) them, and inquired what object must be subjected to each preconception. You may make the same charge against physicians also. For who among us did not use the words healthy and unhealthy before Hippocrates lived, or did we utter these words as empty sounds? For we have also a certain preconception of health,¹²⁹ but we are not able to adapt it. For this reason one says, abstain from food; another says, give food; another says, bleed; and another says, use cupping. What is the reason? is it any other than that a man cannot properly adapt the preconception of health to particulars?

So it is in this matter also, in the things which concern life. Who among us does not speak of good and bad, of useful and not useful; for who among us has not a preconception of each of these things? Is it then a distinct and perfect preconception? Show this. How shall I show this? Adapt the preconception properly to the particular things. Plato, for instance, subjects definitions to the preconception of the useful, but you to the preconception of the useless. Is it possible then that both of you are right? How is it possible? Does not one man adapt the preconception of good to the matter of wealth, and another not to wealth, but to the matter of pleasure and to that of health? For, generally, if all of us who use those words know sufficiently each of them, and need no diligence in resolving (making distinct) the notions of the preconceptions, why do we differ, why do we quarrel, why do we blame one another?

And why do I now allege this contention with one another and speak of it? If you yourself properly adapt your preconceptions, why are you unhappy, why are you hindered? Let us omit at present the second topic about the pursuits ( ὅρμας) and the study of the duties which relate to them. Let us omit also the third topic, which relates to the assents ( συγκαταθέσεις): I give up to you these two topics. Let us insist upon the first, which presents an almost obvious demonstration that we do not properly adapt the preconoeptions.¹³⁰ Do you now desire that which is possible and that which is possible to you? Why then are you hindered? why are you unhappy? Do you not now try to avoid the unavoidable? Why then do you fall in with any thing which you would avoid? Why are you unfortunate? Why, when you desire a thing, does it not happen, and, when you do not desire it, does it happen? For this is the greatest proof of unhappiness and misery: I wish for something, and it does not happen. And what is more wretched than I?¹³¹

It was because she could not endure this that Medea came to murder her children: an act of a noble spirit in this view at least, for she had a just opinion what it is for a thing not to succeed which a person wishes. Then she says, Thus I shall be avenged on him (my husband) who has wronged and insulted me; and what shall I gain if he is punished thus? how then shall it be don? I shall kill my children, but I shall punish myself also: and what do I care?¹³² This is the aberration of soul which possesses great energy. For she did not know wherein lies the doing of that which we wish; that you cannot get this from without, nor yet by the alteration and new adaptation of things. Do not desire the man (Jason, Medea’s husband), and nothing which you desire will fail to happen: do not obstinately desire that he shall live with you: do not desire to remain in Gerinth; and in a word desire nothing than that which God wills.— And who shall hinder you? who shall compel you? No man shall compel you any more than he shall compel Zeus.

When you have such a guide¹³³ and your wishes and desires are the same as his, why do you still fear disappointment? Give up your desire to wealth and your aversion to poverty, and you will be disappointed in the one, you will fall into the other. Well give them up to health, and you will be unfortunate: give them up to magistracies, honours, country, friends, children, in a word to any of the things which are not in man’s power (and you will be unfortunate). But give them up to Zeus and to the rest of the gods; surrender them to the gods, let the gods govern, let your desire and aversion be ranged on the side of the gods, and wherein will you be any longer unhappy?¹³⁴ But if, lazy wretch, you envy, and complain, and are jealous, and fear, and never cease for a single day complaining both of yourself and of the gods, why do you still speak of being educated? What kind of an education, man? Do you mean that you have been employed about sophistical syllogisms ( συλλογισμοὺς μεταπίπτοντας)?¹³⁵ Will you not, if it is possible, unlearn all these things and begin from the beginning, and see at the same time that hitherto you have not even touched the matter; and then commencing from this foundation, will you not build up all that comes after, so that nothing may happen which you do not choose, and nothing shall fail to happen which you do choose?

Give me one young man who has come to the school with this intention, who is become a champion for this matter and says, I give up every thing else, and it is enough for me if it shall ever be in my power to pass my life free from hindrance and free from trouble, and to stretch out (present) my neck to all things like a free man, and to look up to heaven as a friend of God and fear nothing that can happen. Let any of you point out such a man that I may say, Come, young man, into the possession of that which is your own, for it is your destiny to adorn philosophy: yours are these possessions, yours these books, yours these discourses. Then when he shall have laboured sufficiently and exercised himself in this part of the matter ( τόπον), let him come to me again and say, I desire to be free from passion and free from perturbation; and I wish as a pious man and a philosopher and a diligent person to know what is my duty to the gods, what to my parents, what to my brothers, what to my country, what to strangers.(I say) Come also to the second matter ( τόπον): this also is yours.— But I have now sufficiently studied the second part ( τόπον) also, and I would gladly be secure and unshaken, and not only when I am awake, but also when I am asleep, and when I am filled with wine, and when I am melancholy. Man, you are a god, you have great designs.

No: but I wish to understand what Chrysippus says in his treatise of the Pseudomenos¹³⁶ (the Liar).—Will you not hang yourself, wretch, with such your intention? And what good will it do you? You will read the whole with sorrow, and you will speak to others trembling. Thus you also do. Do you wish me,¹³⁷ brother, to read to you, and you to me?—You write excellently, my man; and you also excellently in the style of Xenophon, and you in the style of Plato, and you in the style of Antisthenes Then having told your dreams to one another you return to the same things: your desires are the same, your aversions the same, your pursuits are the same, and your designs and purposes, you wish for the same things and work for the same. In the next place you do not even seek for one to give you advice, but you are vexed if you hear such things (as I say). Then you say, An ill-natured old fellow: when I was going away, he did not weep nor did he say, Into what danger you are going: if you come off safe, my child, I will burn lights.¹³⁸ This is what a good natured man would do. It will be a great thing for you if you do return safe, and it will be worth while to burn lights for such a person: for you ought to be immortal and exempt from disease.

Casting away then, as I say, this conceit of thinking that we know something useful, we must come to philosophy as we apply to geometry, and to music: but if we do not, we shall not even approach to proficiency though we read all the collections¹³⁹ and commentaries of Chrysippus and those of Antipater and Archedemus.¹⁴⁰

How we should struggle against appearances.

EVERY habit and faculty¹⁴¹ is maintained and increased by the corresponding actions: the habit of walking by walking, the habit of running by running. If you would be a good reader, read; if a writer, write. But when you shall not have read for thirty days in succession, but have done something else, you will know the consequence. In the same way, if you shall have lain down ten days, get up and attempt to make a long walk, and you will see how your legs are weakened. Generally then if you would make any thing a habit, do it; if you would not make it a habit, do not do it, but accustom yourself to do something else in place of it.

So it is with respect to the affections of the soul: when you have been angry, you must know that not only has this evil befallen you, but that you have also increased the habit, and in a manner thrown fuel upon fire. When you have been overcome in sexual intercourse with a person, do not reckon this single defeat only, but reckon that you have also nurtured, increased your incontinence. For it is impossible for habits and faculties, some of them not to be produced, when they did not exist before, and others not be increased and strengthened by corresponding acts.

In this manner certainly, as philosophers say, also diseases of the mind grow up.¹⁴² For when you have once desired money, if reason be applied to lead to a perception of the evil, the desire is stopped, and the ruling faculty of our mind is restored to the original authority. But if you apply no means of cure, it no longer returns to the same state, but being again excited by the corresponding appearance, it is inflamed to desire quicker than before: and when this takes place continually, it is henceforth hardened (made callous), and the disease of the mind confirms the love of money. For he who has had a fever, and has been relieved from it, is not in the same state that he was before, unless he has been completely cured. Something of the kind happens also in diseases of the soul. Certain traces and blisters are left in it, and unless a man shall completely efface them, when he is again lashed on the same places, the lash will produce not blisters (weals) but sores. If then you wish not to be of an angry temper, do not feed the habit: throw nothing on it which will increase it: at first keep quiet, and count the days on which you have not been angry. I used to be in passion every day; now every second day; then every third, then every fourth. But if you have intermitted thirty days, make a sacrifice to God. For the habit at first begins to be weakened, and then is completely destroyed. I have not been vexed to—day, nor the day after, nor yet on any succeeding day during two or three months; but I took care when some exciting things happened. Be assured that you are in a good way.¹⁴³ To-day when I saw a handsome person, I did not say to myself, I wish I could lie with her, and Happy is her husband; for he who says this says, Happy is her adulterer also. Nor do I picture the rest to my mind; the woman present, and stripping herself and lying down by my side. I stroke my head and say, Well done, Epictetus, you have solved a fine little sophism, much finer than that which is called the master sophism. And if even the woman is willing, and gives signs, and sends messages, and if she also fondle me and come close to me, and I should abstain and be victorious, that would be a sophism beyond that which is named the Liar, and the Quiescent.¹⁴⁴ Over such a victory as this a man may justly be proud; not for proposing the master sophism.

How then shall this be done? Be willing at length to be approved by yourself, be willing to appear beautiful to God, desire to be in purity with your own pure self and with God. Then when any such appearance visits you, Plato says,¹⁴⁵ Have recourse to expiations, go a suppliant to the temples of the averting deities. It is even sufficient if you resort to the society of noble and just men, and compare yourself with them, whether you find one who is living or dead. Go to Socrates and see him lying down with Alcibiades, and mocking his beauty: consider what a victory he at last found that he had gained over himself; what an Olympian victory; in what number he stood from Hercules;¹⁴⁶ so that, by the Gods, one may justly salute him, Hail, wondrous man, you who have conquered not these sorry boxers¹⁴⁷ and pancratiasts, nor yet those who are like them, the gladiators. By placing these objects on the other side you will conquer the appearance: you will not be drawn away by it. But in the first place be not hurried away by the rapidity of the appearance, but say, Appearances, wait for me a little: let me see who you are, and what you are about:¹⁴⁸ let me put you to the test. And then do not allow the appearance to lead you on and draw lively pictures of the things which will follow; for if you do, it will carry you off wherever it pleases. But rather bring in to oppose it some other beautiful and noble appearance and cast out this base appearance. And if you are accustomed to be exercised in this way, you will see what shoulders, what sinews, what strength you have. But now it is only trifling words, and nothing more.

This is the true athlete, the man who exercises himself against such appearances. Stay, wretch, do not be carried way. Great is the combat, divine is the work; it is for kingship, for freedom, for happiness, for freedom from perturbation. Remember God: call on him as a helper and protector, as men at sea call on the Dioscur¹⁴⁹ in a storm. For what is a greater storm than that which comes from appearances which are violent and drive away the reason?¹⁵⁰ For the storm itself, what else is it but an appearance? For take away the fear of death, and suppose as many thunders and lightnings as you please, and you will know what calm¹⁵¹ and serenity there is in the ruling faculty. But if you have once been defeated and say that you will conquer hereafter, and then say the same again, be assured that you will at last be in so wretched a condition and so weak that you will not even know afterwards that you are doing wrong, but you will even begin to make apologies (defences) for your wrong doing, and then you will confirm the saying of Hesiod¹⁵² to be true,

With constant ills the dilatory strives.

Against those who embrace philosophical opinions only in words.

¹⁵³

THE argument called the ruling argument ( ὁ κυριεύων λόγος)¹⁵⁴ appears to have been proposed from such principles as these: there is in fact a common contradiction between one another in these three propositions, each two being in contradiction to the third. The propositions are, that every thing past must of necessity be true; that an impossibility does not follow a possibility; and that a thing is possible which neither is nor will be true. Diodorus¹⁵⁵ observing this contradiction employed the probative force of the first two for the demonstration of this proposition, That nothing is possible which is not tine and never will be. Now another will hold these two: That something is possible. which is neither true nor ever will be: and That an impossibility does not follow a possibility. But he will not allow that every thing which is past is necessarily true, as the followers of Cleanthes seem to think, and Antipater copiously defended them. But others maintain the other two propositions, That a thing is possible which is neither true nor will be true: and That everything which is past is necessarily true; but then they will maintain that an impossibility can follow a possibility. But it is impossible to maintain these three propositions, because of their common contradiction.¹⁵⁶

If then any man should ask me, which of these propositions do you maintain? I will answer him, that I do not know; but I have received this story, that Diodorus maintained one opinion, the followers of Panthoides, I think, and Cleanthes maintained another opinion, and those of Chrysippus a third. What then is your opinion? I was not made for this purpose, to examine the appearances that occur to me, and to compare what others say and to form an opinion of my own on the thing. Therefore I differ not at all from the grammarian. Who was Hector’s father? Priam. Who were his brothers? Alexander and Deiphobus. Who was their mother? Hecuba.—I have heard this story. From whom? From Homer. And Hellanicus also, I think, writes about the same things, and perhaps others like him. And what further have I about the ruling argument? Nothing. But, if I am a vain man, especially at a banquet I surprise the guests by enumerating those who have written on these matters. Both Chrysippus has written wonderfully in his first book about Possibilities, and Cleanthes has written specially on the subject, and Archedemus. Antipater also has written not only in his work about Possibilities, but also separately in his work on the ruling argument. Have you not read the work? I have not read it. Read. And what profit will a man have from it? he will be more trifling and impertinent than he is now; for what else have you gained by reading it? What opinion have you formed on this subject? none; but you will tell us of Helen and Priam, and the island of Calypso which never was and never will be. And in this matter indeed it is of no great importance if you retain the story, but have formed no opinion of your own. But in matters of morality (Ethic) this happens to us much more than in these things of which we are speaking.

Speak to me about good and evil. Listen:

The wind from Ilium to Ciconian shores Brought me.

¹⁵⁷ —Odyssey, ix. 39.

Of things some are good, some are bad, and others are indifferent. The good then are the virtues and the things which partake of the virtues: the bad are the vices, and the things which partake of them; and the indifferent are the things which lie between the virtues and the vices, wealth, health, life, death, pleasure, pain. Whence do you know this? Hellanicus says it in his Egyptian history; for what difference does it make to say this, or to say that Diogenes has it in his Ethic, or Chrysippus or Cleanthes? Have you then examined any of these things and formed an opinion of your own? Show how you are used to behave in a storm on shipboard? Do you remember this division (distinction of things), when the sail rattles and a man, who knows nothing of times and seasons, stands by you when you are screaming and says, Tell me, I ask you by the Gods, what you were saying just now, Is it a vice to suffer shipwreck: does it participate in vice? Will you not take up a stick and lay it on his head? What have we to do with you, man? we are perishing and you come to mock us? But if Caesar send for you to answer a charge, do you remember the distinction? If when you are going in pale and trembling, a person should come up to you and say, Why do you tremble, man? what is the matter about which you are engaged? Does Caesar who sits within give virtue and vice to those who go in to him? You reply, Why do you also mock me and add to my present sorrows?—Still tell me, philosopher, tell me why you tremble? Is it not death of which you run the risk, or a prison, or pain of the body, or banishment, or disgrace? What else is there? Is there any vice or anything which partakes of vice? What then did you use to say of these things?— What have you to do with me, man? my own evils are enough for me. And you say right. Your own evils are enough for you, your baseness, your cowardice, your boasting which you showed when you sat in the school. Why did you decorate yourself with what belonged to others? Why did you call yourself a Stoic?

Observe yourselves thus in your actions, and you will find to what sect you belong. You will find that most of you are Epicureans, a few Peripatetics,¹⁵⁸ and those feeble. For wherein will you show that you really consider virtue equal to everything else or even superior? But show me a Stoic, if you can. Where or how? But you can show me an endless number who utter small arguments of the Stoics. For do the same persons repeat the Epicurean opinions any worse? And the Peripatetic, do they not handle them also with equal accuracy? who then is a Stoic? As we call a statue Phidiac, which is fashioned according to the art of Phidias; so show me a man who is fashioned according to the doctrines which he utters. Show me a man who is sick and happy, in danger and happy, dying and happy, in exile and happy, in disgrace and happy. Show him: I desire, by the gods, to see a Stoic. You cannot show me one fashioned so; but show me at least one who is forming, who has shown a tendency to be a Stoic. Do me this favour: do not grudge an old man seeing a sight which I have not seen yet. Do you think that you must show me the Zeus of Phidias or the Athena, a work of ivory and gold?¹⁵⁹ Let any of you show me a human soul ready to think as God does, and not to blame¹⁶⁰ either God or man, ready not to be disappointed about any thing, not to consider himself damaged by any thing, not to be angry, not to be envious, not to be jealous; and why should I not say it direct? desirous from a man to become a god, and in this poor mortal body thinking of his fellowship with Zeus.¹⁶¹ Show me the man. But you cannot. Why then do you delude yourselves and cheat others? and why do you put on a guise which does not belong to you, and walk about being thieves and pilferers of these names and things which do not belong to you?

And now I am your teacher, and you are instructed in my school. And I have this purpose, to make you free from restraint, compulsion, hindrance, to make you free, prosperous, happy, looking to God in everything small and great. And you are here to learn and practise these things. Why then do you not finish the work, if you also have such a purpose as you ought to have, and if I in addition to the purpose also have such qualification as I ought to have? What is that which is wanting? When I see an artificer and material lying by him, I expect the work. Here then is the artificer, here the material; what is it that we want? Is not the thing one that can be taught? It is. Is it not then in our power? The only thing of all that is in our power. Neither wealth is in our power, nor health, nor reputation, nor in a word any thing else except the right use of appearances. This (right use) is by nature free from restraint, this alone is free from impediment. Why then do you not finish the work? Tell me the reason. For it is either through my fault that you do not finish it, or through your own fault, or through the nature of the thing. The thing itself is possible, and the only thing in our power. It remains then that the fault is either in me or in you, or, what is nearer the truth, in both. Well then, are you willing that we begin at last to bring such a purpose into this school, and to take no notice of the past? Let us only make a beginning. Trust to me, and you will see.

Against the Epicureans and Academics.

THE propositions which are true and evident are of necessity used even by those who contradict them: and a man might perhaps consider it to be the greatest proof of a thing being evident that it is found to be necessary even for him who denies it to make use of it at the same time. For instance, if a man should deny that there is anything universally true, it is plain that he must make the contradictory negation, that nothing is universally true. What, wretch, do you not admit even this? For what else is this than to affirm that whatever is universally affirmed is false? Again if a man should come forward and say: Know that there is nothing that can be known,¹⁶² but all things are incapable of sure evidence; or if another say, Believe me and you will be the better for it, that a man ought not to believe any thing; or again, if another should say, Learn from me, man, that it is not possible to learn any thing; I tell you this and will teach you, if you choose. Now in what respect do these differ from those? Whom shall I name? Those who call themselves Academics? Men, agree [with us] that no man agrees [with another]: believe us that no man believes anybody.

Thus Epicurus¹⁶³ also, when he designs to destroy the natural fellowship of mankind, at the same time makes use of that which he destroys. For what does he say? Be not deceived, men, nor be led astray, nor be mistaken: there is no natural fellowship among rational animals; believe me. But those who say otherwise, deceive you and seduce you by false reasons.—What is this to you? Permit us to be deceived. Will you fare worse, if all the rest of us are persuaded that there is a natural fellowship among us, and that it ought by all means to be preserved? Nay, it will be much better and safer for you. Man, why do you trouble yourself about us? Why do you keep awake for us? Why do you light your lamp? Why do you rise early? Why do you write so many books, that no one of us may be deceived about the gods and believe that they take care of men; or that no one may suppose the nature of good to be other than pleasure? For if this is so, lie down and sleep, and lead the life of a worm, of which you judged yourself worthy: eat and drink, and enjoy women, and ease yourself, and snore.¹⁶⁴ And what is it to you, how the rest shall think about these things, whether right or wrong? For what have we to do with you? You take care of sheep because they supply us with wool and milk, and last of all with their flesh. Would it not be a desirable thing if men could be lulled and enchanted by the Stoics, and sleep and present themselves to you and to those like you to be shorn and milked? For this you ought to say to your brother Epicureans: but ought you not to conceal it from others, and particularly before every thing to persuade them, that we are by nature adapted for fellowship, that temperance is a good thing; in order that all things may be secured for you?¹⁶⁵ Or ought we to maintain this fellowship with some and not with others? With whom then ought we to maintain it? With such as on their part also maintain it, or with such as violate this fellowship? And who violate it more than you who establish such doctrines?

What then was it that waked Epicurus from his sleepiness, and compelled him to write what he did write? What else was it than that which is the strongest thing in men, nature, which draws a man to her own will though he be unwilling and complaining? For since, she says, you think that there is no community among mankind, write this opinion and leave it for others, and break your sleep to do this, and by your own practice condemn your own opinions. Shall we then say that Orestes was agitated by the Erinyes (Furies) and roused from his deep sleep, and did not more savage Erinyes and Pains rouse Epicurus from his sleep and not allow him to rest, but compelled him to make known his own evils, as madness and wine did the Galli (the priests of Cybele)? So strong and invincible is man’s nature, For how can a vine be moved not in the manner of a vine, but in the manner of an olive tree? or on the other hand how can an olive tree be moved not in the manner of an olive tree, but in the manner of a vine? It is impossible: it cannot be conceived. Neither then is it possible for a man completely to lose the movements (affects) of a man; and even those who are deprived of their genital members are not able to deprive themselves of man’s desires.¹⁶⁶ Thus Epicurus also mutilated all the offices of a man, and of a father of a family, and of a citizen and of a friend, but he did not mutilate human desires, for he could not; not more than the lazy Academics can cast away or blind their own senses, though they have tried with all their might to do it. What a shame is this? when a man has received from nature measures and rules for the knowing of truth, and does not strive to add to these measures and rules and to improve¹⁶⁷ them, but just the contrary, endeavours to take away and destroy whatever enables us to discern the truth?

What say you philosopher? piety and sanctity, what do you think that they are? If you like, I will demonstrate that they are good things. Well, demonstrate it that our citizens may be turned and honour the deity and may no longer be negligent about things of the highest value. Have you then the demonstrations?—I have, and I am thankful.—Since then you are well pleased with them, hear the contrary: That there are no Gods, and, if there are, they take no care of men, nor is there any fellowship between us and them; and that this piety and sanctity which is talked of among most men is the lying of boasters and sophists, or certainly of legislators for the purpose of terrifying and checking wrong doers.¹⁶⁸—Well done, philosopher, you have done something for our citizens, you have brought back all the young men to contempt of things divine.—What then, does not this satisfy you? Learn now, that justice is nothing, that modesty is folly, that a father is nothing, a son nothing.—Well done, philosopher, persist, persuade the young men, that we may have more with the same opinions as you and who say the same as you. From such principles as these have grown our well constituted states; by these was Sparta founded: Lycurgus fixed these opinions in the Spartans by his laws and education, that neither is the servile condition more base than honourable, nor the condition of free men more honourable than base, and that those who died at Thermopylae ¹⁶⁹ died from these opinions; and through what other opinions did the Athenians leave their city?¹⁷⁰ Then those who talk thus, marry and beget children, and employ themselves in public affairs and make themselves priests and interpreters. Of whom? of gods who do not exist: and they consult the Pythian priestess that they may hear lies, and they report the oracles to others. Monstrous impudence and imposture.

Man what are you doing?¹⁷¹ are you refuting yourself every day; and will you not give up these frigid attempts? When you eat, where do you carry your hand to? to your mouth or to your eye? when you wash yourself, what do you go into? do you ever call a pot a dish, or a ladle a spit? If I were a slave of any of these men, even if I must be flayed by him daily, I would rack him. If he said, Boy, throw some olive oil into the bath, I would take pickle sauce and pour it down on his head. What is this? he would say—An appearance was presented to me, I swear by your genius, which could not be distinguished from oil and was exactly like it—Here give me the barley-drink (tisane), he says—I would fill and carry him a dish of sharp sauce—Did I not ask for the barley drink? Yes, mister: this is the barley drink? Take it and smell; take it and taste. How do you know then if our senses deceive us?—If I had three or four fellow—slaves of the same opinion, I should force him to hang himself through passion or to change his mind. But now they mock us by using all the things which nature gives, and in words destroying them.

Grateful indeed are men and modest, who, if they do nothing else, are daily eating bread and yet are shameless enough to say, we do not know if there is a Demeter or her daughter Persephone or a Pluto;¹⁷² not to mention that they are enjoying the night and the day, the seasons of the year, and the stars, and the sea and the land and the co—operation of mankind, and yet they are not moved in any degree by these things to turn their attention to them; but they only seek to belch out their little problem (matter for discussion), and when they have exercised their stomach to go off to the bath. But what they shall say, and about what things or to what persons, and what their hearers shall learn from this talk, they care not even in the least degree, nor do they care if any generous youth after hearing such talk should suffer any harm from it, nor after he has suffered harm should lose all the seeds of his generous nature; nor if we¹⁷³ should give an adulterer help towards being shameless in his acts; nor if a public peculator should lay hold of some cunning excuse from these doctrines; nor if another who neglects his parents should be confirmed in his audacity by this teaching.—What then in your opinion is good or bad? This or that?— Why then should a man say any more in reply to such persons as these, or give them any reason or listen to any reason from them, or try to convince them? By Zeus one might much sooner expect to make catamites change their mind than those who are become so deaf and blind to their own evils.¹⁷⁴

Of inconsistency.

¹⁷⁵

SOME things men readily confess, and other things they do not. No one then will confess that he is a fool or without understanding; but quite the contrary you will hear all men saying, I wish that I had fortune equal to my understanding. But men readily confess that they are timid, and they say: I am rather timid, I confess; but as to other respects you will not find me to be foolish. A man will not readily confess that he is intemperate; and that he is unjust, he will not confess at all. He will by no means confess that he is envious or a busy body. Most men will confess that they are compassionate. What then is the reason?—The chief thing (the ruling thing) is inconsistency and confusion in the things which relate to good and evil. But different men have different reasons; and generally what they imagine to be base, they do not confess at all. But they suppose timidity to be a characteristic of a good disposition, and compassion also; but silliness to be the absolute characteristic of a slave. And they do not at all admit (confess) the things which are. offences against society. But in the case of most errors for this reason chiefly they are induced to confess them, because they imagine that there is something involuntary in them as in timidity and compassion; and if a man confess that he is in any respect intemperate, he alleges love (or passion) as an excuse for what is involuntary. But men do not imagine injustice to be at all involuntary. There is also in jealousy, as they suppose, something involuntary; and for this reason they confess to jealousy also.

Living then among such men, who are so confused, so ignorant of what they say, and of the evils which they have or have not, and why they have them, or how they shall be relieved of them, I think it is worth the trouble for a man to watch constantly (and to ask) whether I also am one of them, what imagination I have about myself, how I conduct myself, whether I conduct myself as a prudent man, whether I conduct myself as a temperate man, whether I ever say this, that I have been taught to be prepared for every thing that may happen. Have I the consciousness, which a man who knows nothing ought to have, that I know nothing? Do I go to my teacher as men go to oracles, prepared to obey? or do I like a snivelling boy go to my school to learn history and understand the books which I did not understand before, and, if it should happen so, to explain them also to others?—Man, you have had a fight in the house with a poor slave, you have turned the family upside down, you have frightened the neighbours, and you come to me¹⁷⁶ as if you were a wise man, and you take your seat and judge how I have explained some word, and low I have babbled whatever came into my head. You come full of envy, and humbled, because you bring nothing from home;¹⁷⁷ and you sit during the discussion thinking of nothing else than how your father is disposed towards you and your brother. What are they saying about me there? now they think that I am improving, and are saying, He will return with all knowledge. I wish I could learn every thing before I return: but much labour is necessary, and no one sends me any thing, and the baths at Nicopolis are dirty; every thing is bad at home, and bad here.

Then they say, no one gains any profit from the school. —Why, who comes to the school? who comes for the purpose of being improved? who comes to present his opinions to be purified? who comes to learn what he is in want of? Why do you wonder then if you carry back from the school the very things which you bring into it? For you come not to lay aside (your principles) or to correct them or to receive other principles in place of them. By no means, nor any thing like it. You rather look to this, whether you possess already that for which you come. You wish to prattle about theorems? What then? Do you not become greater triflers? Do not your little theorems give you some opportunity of display? You solve sophistical syllogisms.¹⁷⁸ Do you not examine the assumptions of the syllogism named the Liar?¹⁷⁹ Do you not examine hypothetical syllogisms? Why then are you still vexed if you receive the things for which you come to the school? Yes; but if my child die or my brother, or if I must die or be racked, what good will these things do me¹⁸⁰?— Well, did you come for this? for this do you sit by my side? did you ever for this light your lamp or keep awake? or, when you went out to the walking place, did you ever propose any appearance that had been presented to you instead of a syllogism, and did you and your friends discuss it together? Where and when? Then you say, Theorems are useless. To whom? To such as make a bad use of them. For eye—salves are not useless to those who use them as they ought and when they ought. Fomentations are not useless. Dum-bells¹⁸¹ are not useless; but they are useless to some, useful to others. If you ask me now if syllogisms are useful, I will tell you that they are useful, and if you choose, I will prove it.¹⁸²—How then will they in any way be useful to me? Man, did you ask if they are useful to you, or did you ask generally? Let him who is suffering from dysentery, ask me if vinegar is useful; I will say that it is useful.—Will it then be useful to me?—I will say, no. Seek first for the discharge to be stopped and the ulcers to be closed. And do you, O men, first cure the ulcers and stop the discharge; be tranquil in your mind, bring it free from distraction into the school, and you will know what power reason has.

On friendship.

¹⁸³

WHAT a man applies himself to earnestly, that he naturally loves. Do men then apply themselves earnestly to the things which are bad? By no means. Well, do they apply themselves to things which in no way concern themselves? not to these either. It remains then that they employ themselves earnestly only about things which are good; and if they are earnestly employed about things, they love such things also. Whoever then understands what is good, can also know how to love: but he who cannot distinguish good from bad, and things which are neither good nor bad from both, how can he possess the power of loving? To love then is only in the power of the wise.

How is this? a man may say; I am foolish, and yet I love my child.—I am surprised indeed that you have begun by making the admission that you are foolish. For what are you deficient in? Can you not make use of your senses? do you not distinguish appearances? do you not use food which is suitable for your body, and clothing and habitation? Why then do you admit that you are foolish? It is in truth because you are often disturbed by appearances and perplexed, and their power of persuasion often conquers you; and sometimes you think these things to be good, and then the same things to be bad, and lastly neither good nor bad; and in short you grieve, fear, envy, are disturbed, you are changed. This is the reason why you confess that you are foolish. And are you not changeable in love? But wealth, and pleasure and in a word things themselves, do you sometimes think them to be good, and sometimes bad? and do you not think the same men at one time to be good, at another time bad? and have you not at one time a friendly feeling towards them, and at another time the feeling of an enemy? and do you not at one time praise them, and at another time blame them? Yes; I have these feelings also. Well then, do you think that he who has been deceived about a man is his friend? Certainly not. And he who has selected a man as his friend and is of a changeable disposition, has he good will towards him? He has not. And he who now abuses a man, and afterwards admires him? This man also has no good will to the other. Well then, did you never see little dogs caressing and playing with one another, so that you might say, there is nothing more friendly? but that you may know what friendship is, throw a bit of flesh among them, and you will learn. Throw between yourself and your son a little estate, and you will know how soon he will wish to bury you and how soon you wish your son to die. Then you will change your tone and say, what a son I have brought up! He has long been wishing to bury me. Throw a smart girl between you; and do you the old man love her, and the young one will love her too. If a little fame intervene or dangers, it will be just the same. You will utter the words of the father of Admetus!

Life gives you pleasure: and why not your father?

¹⁸⁴

Do you think that Admetus did not love his own child when he was little? that he was not in agony when the child had a fever? that he did not often say, I wish I had the fever instead of the child? then when the test (the thing) came and was near, see what words they utter. Were not Eteocles and Polynices from the same mother and from the same father? Were they not brought up together, had they not lived together, drunk together, slept together, and often kissed one another? So that, if any man, I think, had seen them, he would have ridiculed the philosophers for the paradoxes which they utter about friendship. But when a quarrel rose between them about the royal power, as between dogs about a bit of meat, see what they say

Polynices.

Where will you take your station before the towers?

Eteocles.

Why do you ask me this?

Pol.

I will place myself opposite and try to kill you.

Et.

I also wish to do the same.

¹⁸⁵ Such are the wishes that they utter.

For universally, be not deceived, every animal is attached to nothing so much as to its own interest.¹⁸⁶ Whatever then appears to it an impediment to this interest, whether this be a brother, or a father, or a child, or beloved, or lover, it hates, spurns, curses: for its nature is to love nothing so much as its own interest; this is father, and brother and kinsman, and country, and God. When then the gods appear to us to be an impediment to this, we abuse them and throw down their statues and burn their temples, as Alexander ordered the temples of Aesculapius to be burned when his dear friend died.¹⁸⁷ For this reason if a man put in the same place his interest, sanctity, goodness, and country, and parents, and friends, all these are secured: but if he puts in one place his interest, in another his friends, and his country and his kinsmen and justice itself, all these give way being borne down by the weight of interest. For where the I and the Mine are placed, to that place of necessity the animal inclines: if in the flesh, there is the ruling power: if in the will, it is there: and if it is in externals, it is there.¹⁸⁸ If then I am there where my will is, then only shall I be a friend such as I ought to be, and son, and father; for this will be my interest, to maintain the character of fidelity, of modesty, of patience, of abstinence, of active co—operation, of observing my relations (towards all). But if I put myself in one place, and honesty in another, then the doctrine of Epicurus becomes strong, which asserts either that there is no honesty or it is that which opinion holds to be honest (virtuous).¹⁸⁹

It was through this ignorance that the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians quarrelled, and the Thebans with both; and the great king quarrelled with Hellas , and the Macedonians with both; and the Romans with the Getae.¹⁹⁰ And still earlier the Trojan war happened for these reasons. Alexander was the guest of Menelaus; and if any man had seen their friendly disposition, he would not have believed any one who said that they were not friends. But there was cast between them (as between dogs) a bit of meat, a handsome woman, and about her war arose. And now when you see brothers to be friends appearing to have one mind, do not conclude from this any thing about their friendship, not even if they swear it and say that it is impossible for them to be separated from one another. For the ruling principle of a bad man cannot be trusted, it is insecure, has no certain rule by which it is directed, and is overpowered at different times by different appearances.¹⁹¹ But examine, not what other men examine, if they are born of the same parents and brought up together, and under the same paedagogue; but examine this only, wherein they place their interest, whether in externals or in the will. If in externals, do not name them friends, no more than name them trustworthy or constant, or brave or free: do not name them even men, if you have any judgment. For that is not a principle of human nature which makes them bite one another, and abuse one another, and occupy deserted places or public places, as if they were mountains,¹⁹² and in the courts of justice display the acts of robbers; nor yet that which makes them intemperate and adulterers and corrupters, nor that which makes them do whatever else men do against one another through this one opinion only, that of placing themselves and their interests in the things which are not within the power of their will. But if you hear that in truth these men think the good to be only there, where will is, and where there is a right use of appearances, no longer trouble yourself whether they are father or son, or brothers, or have associated a long time and are companions, but when you have ascertained this only, confidently declare that they are friends, as you declare that they are faithful, that they are just. For where else is friendship than where there is fidelity, and modesty, where there is a communion¹⁹³ of honest things and of nothing else?

But you may say, such a one treated me with regard so lung; and did he not love me? How do you know, slave, if he did not regard you in the same way as he wipes his shoes with a sponge, or as he takes care of his beast? How do you know, when you have ceased to be useful as a vessel, he will not throw you away like a broken platter? But this woman is my wife, and we have lived together so long. And how long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus, and was the mother of children and of many? But a necklace¹⁹⁴ came between them: and what is a necklace? It is the opinion about such things. That was the bestial principle, that was the thing which broke asunder the friendship between husband and wife, that which did not allow the woman to be a wife nor the mother to be a mother. And let every man among you who has seriously resolved either to be a friend himself or to have another for his friend, cut out these opinions, hate them, drive them from his soul. And thus first of all he will not reproach himself, he will not be at variance with himself, he will not change his mind, he will not torture himself. In the next place, to another also, who is like himself, he will be altogether and completely a friend.¹⁹⁵ But he will bear with the man who is unlike himself, he will be kind to him, gentle, ready to pardon on account of his ignorance, on account of his being mistaken in things of the greatest importance; but he will be harsh to no man, being well convinced of Plato’s doctrine that every mind is deprived of truth unwillingly. If you cannot do this, yet you can do in all other respects as friends do, drink together, and lodge together, and sail together, and you may be born of the same parents; for snakes also are: but neither will they be friends nor you, so long as you retain these bestial and cursed opinions.

On the power of speaking.

EVERY man will read a book with more pleasure or even with more ease, if it is written in fairer characters. Therefore every man will also listen more readily to what is spoken, if it is signified by appropriate and becoming words. We must not say then that there is no faculty of expression: for this affirmation is the characteristic of an impious and also of a timid man. Of an impious man, because he undervalues the gifts which come from God, just as if he would take away the commodity of the power of vision, or of hearing, or of seeing. Has then God given you eyes to no purpose? and to no purpose has he infused into them a spirit¹⁹⁶ so strong and of such skilful contrivance as to reach a long way and to fashion the forms of things which are seen? What messenger is so swift and vigilant? And to no purpose has he made the interjacent atmosphere so efficacious and elastic that the vision penetrates through the atmosphere which is in a manner moved?¹⁹⁷ And to no purpose has he made light, without the presence of which there would be no use in any other thing?

Man, be neither ungrateful for these gifts nor yet forget the things which are superior to them. But indeed for the power of seeing and hearing, and indeed for life itself, and for the things which contribute to support it, for the fruits which are dry, and for wine and oil give thanks to God: but remember that he has given you something else better than all these, I mean the power of using them, proving them and estimating the value of each. For what is that whom gives information about each of these powers, what each of them is worth?¹⁹⁸ Is it each faculty itself? Did you ever hear the faculty of vision saying any thing about itself? or the faculty of hearing? or wheat, or barley, or a horse or a dog? No; but they are appointed as ministers and slaves to serve the faculty which has the power of making use of the appearances of things. And if you inquire what is the value of each thing, of whom do you inquire? who answers you? How then can any other faculty be more powerful than this, which uses the rest as ministers and itself proves each and pronounces about them? for which of them knows what itself is, and what is its own value? which of them knows when it ought to employ itself and when not? what faculty is it which opens and closes the eyes, and turns them away from objects to which it ought not to apply them and does apply them to other objects? Is it the faculty of vision? No; but it is the faculty of the will. What is that faculty which closes and opens the ears? what is that by which they are curious and inquisitive, or on the contrary unmoved by what is said? is it the faculty of hearing? It is no other than the faculty of the will.¹⁹⁹ Will this faculty then, seeing that it is amidst all the other faculties which are blind and dumb and unable to see any thing else except the very acts for which they are appointed in order to minister to this (faculty) and serve it, but this faculty alone sees sharp and sees what is the value of each of the rest; will this faculty declare to us that any thing else is the best, or that itself is? And what else does the eye do when it is opened than see? But whether we ought to look on the wife of a certain person, and in what manner, who tells us? The faculty of the will. And whether we ought to believe what is said or not to believe it, and if we do believe, whether we ought to be moved by it or not, who tells us? Is it not the faculty of the will? But this faculty of speaking and of ornamenting words, if there is indeed any such peculiar faculty, what else does it do, when there happens to be discourse about a thing, than to ornament the words and arrange them as hairdressers do the hair? But whether it is better to speak or to be silent, and better to speak in this way or that way, and whether this is becoming or not becoming, and the season for each and the use, what else tells us than the faculty of the will? Would you have it then to come forward and condemn itself?

What then? it (the will) says,²⁰⁰ if the fact is so, can that which ministers be superior to that to which it ministers, can the horse be superior to the rider, or the dog to the huntsman, or the instrument to the musician, or the servants to the king? What is that which makes use of the rest? The will. What takes care of all? The will. What destroys the whole man, at one time by hunger, at another time by hanging, and at another time by a precipice? The will. Then is any thing stronger in men than this? and how is it possible that the things which are subject to restraint are stronger than that which is not? What things are naturally formed to hinder the faculty of vision? Both will and things which do not depend on the faculty of the will.²⁰¹ It is the same with the faculty of hearing, with the faculty of speaking in like manner. But what has a natural power of hindering the will? Nothing which is independent of the will; but only the will itself, when it is perverted. Therefore this (the will) is alone vice or alone virtue.

Then being so great a faculty and set over all the rest, let it (the will) come forward and tell us that the most excellent of all things is the flesh. Not even if the flesh itself declared that it is the most excellent, would any person bear that it should say this. But what is it, Epicurus, which pronounces this, which wrote about the End (purpose) of our Being,²⁰² which wrote on the Nature of Things, which wrote about the Canoa (rule of truth), which led you to wear a beard, which wrote when it was dying that it was spending the last and a happy day?²⁰³ Was this the flesh or the will? Then do you admit that you possess any thing superior to this (the will)? and are you not mad? are you in fact so blind and deaf?

What then? does any man despise the other faculties? I hope not. Does any man say that there is no use or excellence in the speaking faculty?²⁰⁴ I hope not. That would be foolish, impious, ungrateful towards God. But a man renders to each thing its due value. For there is some use even in an ass, but not so much as in an ox: there is also use in a dog, but not so much as in a slave: there is also some use in a slave, but not so much as in citizens: there is also some use in citizens, but not so much as in magistrates. Not indeed because some things are superior, must we undervalue the use which other things have. There is a certain value in the power of speaking, but it is not so great as the power of the will. When then I speak thus, let no man think that I ask you to neglect the power of speaking, for neither do I ask you to neglect the eyes, nor the ears nor the hands nor the feet, nor clothing nor shoes. But if you ask me what then is the most excellent of all things, what must I say? I cannot say the power of speaking, but the power of the will, when it is right ( ὀρθὴ). For it is this which uses the other (the power of speaking), and all the other faculties both small and great. For when this faculty of the will is set right, a man who is not good becomes good: but when it fails, a man becomes bad. It is through this that we are unfortunate, that we are fortunate, that we blame one another, are pleased with one another. In a word, it is this which if we neglect it makes unhappiness, and if we carefully look after it, makes happiness.

But to take away the faculty of speaking and to say that there is no such faculty in reality, is the act not only of an ungrateful man towards those who gave it, but also of a cowardly man: for such a person seems to me to fear, if there is any faculty of this kind, that we shall not be able to despise it. Such also are those who say that there is no difference between beauty and ugliness. Then it would happen that a man would be affected in the same way if he saw Thersites and if he saw Achilles; in the same way, if he saw Helen and any other woman. But these are foolish and clownish notions, and the notions of men who know not the nature of each thing, but are afraid, if a man shall see the difference, that he shall immediately be seized and carried off vanquished. But this is the great matter; to leave to each thing the power (faculty) which it has, and leaving to it this power to see what is the worth of the power, and to learn what is the most excellent of all things, and to pursue this always, to be diligent about this, considering all other things of secondary value compared with this, but yet, as far as we can, not neglecting all those other things. For we must take care of the eyes also, not as if they were the most excellent thing, but we must take care of them on account of the most excellent thing, because it will not be in its true natural condition, if it does not rightly use the ether faculties, and prefer some things to others.

What then is usually done? Men generally act as a traveller would do on his way to his own country, when he enters a good inn, and being pleased with it should remain there. Man, you have forgotten your purpose: you were not travelling to this inn, but you were passing through it.—But this is a pleasant inn.—And how many other inns are pleasant? and how many meadows are pleasant? yet only for passing through. But your purpose is this, to return to your country, to relieve your kinsmen of anxiety, to discharge the duties of a citizen, to marry, to beget children, to fill the usual magistracies.²⁰⁵ For you are not come to select more pleasant places, but to live in these where you were born and of which you were made a citizen. Something of the kind takes place in the matter which we are considering. Since by the aid of speech and such communication as you receive here you must advance to perfection, and purge your will and correct the faculty which makes use of the appearances of things; and since it is necessary also for the teaching (delivery) of theorems to be effected by a certain mode of expression and with a certain variety and sharpness, some persons captivated by these very things abide in them, one captivated by the expression, another by syllogisms, another again by sophisms, and still another by some other inn ( πανδοκείου) of the kind; and there they stay and waste away as if they were among Sirens.

Man, your purpose (business) was to make yourself capable of using comformably to nature the appearances presented to you, in your desires not to be frustrated, in your aversion from things not to fall into that which you would avoid, never to have no luck (as one may say), nor ever to have bad luck, to be free, not hindered, not compelled, conforming yourself to the administration of Zeus, obeying it, well satisfied with this, blaming no one, charging no one with fault, able from your whole soul to utter these verses

Lead me, O Zeus, and thou too Destiny.

²⁰⁶ Then having this purpose before you, if some little form of expression pleases you, if some theorems please you, do you abide among them and choose to dwell there, forgetting the things at home, and do you say, These things are fine? Who says that they are not fine? but only as being a way home, as inns are. For what hinders you from being an unfortunate man, even if you speak like Demosthenes? and what prevents you, if you can resolve syllogisms like Chrysippus,²⁰⁷ from being wretched, from sorrowing, from envying, in a word, from being disturbed, from being unhappy? Nothing. You see then that these were inns, worth nothing; and that the purpose before you was something else. When I speak thus to some persons, they think that I am rejecting care about speaking or care about theorems. But I am not rejecting this care, but I am rejecting the abiding about these things incessantly²⁰⁸ and putting our hopes in them. If a man by this teaching does harm to those who listen to him, reckon me too among those who do this harm: for I am not able, when I see one thing which is most excellent and supreme, to say that another is so, in order to please you.

To (or against) a person who was one of those who were not valued (esteemed) by him.

A CERTAIN person said to him (Epictetus): Frequently I desired to hear you and came to you, and you never gave me any answer: and now, if it is possible, I intreat you to say something to me. Do you think, said Epictetus, that as there is an art in any thing else, so there is also an art in speaking, and that he who has the art, will speak skilfully, and he who has not, will speak unskilfully?— I do think so.—He then who by speaking receives benefit himself, and is able to benefit others, will speak skilfully: but he who is rather damaged by speaking and does damage to others, will he be unskilled in this art of speaking? And you may find that some are damaged and others benefited by speaking. And are all who hear benefited by what they hear? Or will you find that among them also some are benefited and some damaged?—There are both among these also, he said.—In this case also then those who hear skilfully are benefited, and those who hear unskilfully are damaged? He admitted this. Is there then a skill in hearing also, as there is in speaking?— It seems so.—If you choose, consider the matter in this way also. The practice of music, to whom does it belong? To a musician. And the proper making of a statue, to whom do you think that it belongs? To a statuary. And the looking at a statue skilfully, does this appear to you to require the aid of no art?—This also requires the aid of art.—Then if speaking properly is the business of the skilful man, do you see that to hear also with benefit is the business of the skilful man.? Now as to speaking and hearing perfectly, and usefully,²⁰⁹ let us for the present, if you please, say no more, for both of us are a long way from every thing of the kind. But I think that every man will allow this, that he who is going to hear philosophers requires some amount of practice in hearing. Is it not so?

Tell me then about what I should talk to you: about what matter are you able to listen?—About good and evil. —Good and evil in what? In a horse? No. Well, in an ox? No. What then? In a man? Yes. Do we know then what a man is, what the notion is which we have of him, or have we our ears in any degree practised about this matter? But do you understand what nature is? or can you even in any degree understand me when I say, I shall use demonstration to you? How? Do you understand his very thing, what demonstration is, or how any thing i, demonstrated, or by what means; or what things are like demonstration, but are not demonstration? Do you know what is true or what is false? What is consequent on a thing, what is repugnant to a thing, or not consistent, or inconsistent?²¹⁰ But must I excite you to philosophy, and how? Shall I show to you the repugnance in the opinions of most men, through which they differ about things good and evil, and about things which are profitable and unprofitable, when you know not this very thing, what repugnance (contradiction) is? Show me then what I shall accomplish by discoursing with you: excite my inclination to do this. As the grass which is suitable, when it is presented to a sheep, moves its inclination to eat, but if you present to it a stone or bread, it will not be moved to eat; so there are in us certain natural inclinations also to speak, when the hearer shall appear to be somebody, when he himself shall excite us: but when he shall sit by us like a stone or like grass, how can he excite a man’s desire (to speak)? Does the vine say to the husbandman, Take care of me? No, but the vine by showing in itself that it will be profitable to the husbandman, if he does take care of it, invites him to exercise care. When children are attractive and lively, whom do they not invite to play with them, and crawl with them, and lisp with them? But who is eager to play with an ass or to bray with it? for though it is small, it is still a little ass.

Why then do you say nothing to me? I can only say this to you, that he who knows not who he is, and for what purpose he exists, and what is this world, and with whom he is associated, and what things are the good and the bad, and the beautiful and the ugly, and who neither understands discourse nor demonstration, nor what is true nor what is false, and who is not able to distinguish them, will neither desire according to nature nor turn away nor move towards, nor intend (to act), nor assent, nor dissent nor suspend his judgment: to say all in a few words, he will go about dumb and blind, thinking that he is somebody, but being nobody. Is this so now for the first time? Is it not the fact that ever since the human race existed, all errors and misfortunes have arisen through this ignorance? Why did Agamemnon and Achilles quarrel with one another? Was it not through not knowing what things are profitable and not profitable? Does not the one say it is profitable to restore Chryseis to her father, and does not the other say that it is not profitable? does not the one say that he ought to take the prize of another, and does not the other say that he ought not? Did they not for these reasons forget, both who they were and for what purpose they had come there? Oh, man, for what purpose did you come? to gain mistresses or to fight? To fight. With whom? the Trojans or the Hellenes? With the Trojans. Do you then leave Hector alone and draw your sword against your own king? And do you, most excellent Sir, neglect the duties of the king, you who are the people’s guardian and have such cares; and are you quarrelling about a little girl with the most warlike of your allies, whom you ought by every means to take care of and protect? and do you become worse than (inferior to) a well behaved priest who treats you these fine gladiators with all respect? Do you see what kind of things ignorance of what is profitable does?

But I also am rich. Are you then richer than Agamemnon? But I am also handsome. Are you then more handsome than Achilles? But I have also beautiful hair. But had not Achilles more beautiful hair and gold coloured? and he did not comb it elegantly nor dress it. But I am also strong. Can you then lift so great a stone as Hector or Ajax? But I am also of noble birth. Are you the son of a goddess mother? are you the son of a father sprung from Zeus? What good then do these things do to him, when he sits and weeps for a girl? But I am an orator. And was he not? Do you not see how he handled the most skilful of the Hellenes in oratory, Odysseus and Phoenix? how he stopped their mouths?²¹¹

This is all that I have to say to you; and I say even this not willingly. Why? Because you have not roused me. For what must I look to in order to be roused, as men who are expert in riding are roused by generous horses? Must I look to your body? You treat it disgracefully. To your dress? That is luxurious. To your behaviour, to your look? That is the same as nothing. When you would listen to a philosopher, do not say to him, You tell me nothing; but only show yourself worthy of hearing or fit for hearing; and you will see how you will move the speaker.

That logic is necessary.

²¹²

WHEN one of those who were present said, Persuade me that logic is necessary, he replied, Do you wish me to prove this to you? The answer was—Yes.—Then I must use a demonstrative form of speech.—This was granted.— How then will you know if I am cheating you by my argument? The man was silent. Do you see, said Epictetus, that you yourself are admitting that logic is necessary, if without it you cannot know so much as this, whether logic is necessary or not necessary?

What is the property of error.

EVERY error comprehends contradiction: for since he who errs does not wish to err, but to be right, it is plain that he does not do what he wishes. For what does the thief wish to do? That which is for his own interest.²¹³ If then the theft is not for his interest, he does not do that which he wishes. But every rational soul is by nature offended at contradiction, and so long as it does not understand this contradiction, it is not hindered from doing contradictory things: but when it does understand the contradiction, it must of necessity avoid the contradiction and avoid it as much as a man must dissent from the false when he sees that a thing is false; but so long as this falsehood does not appear to him, he assents to it as to truth.

He then is strong in argument and has the faculty of exhorting and confuting, who is able to show to each man the contradiction through which he errs and clearly to prove how he does not do that which he wishes and does that which he does not wish. For if any one shall show this, a man will himself withdraw from that which he does; but so long as you do not show this, do not be surprised if a man persists in his practice; for having the appearance of doing right, he does what he does. For this reason Socrates also trusting to this power used to say, I am used to call no other witness of what I say, but I am always satisfied with him with whom I am discussing, and I ask him to give his opinion and call him as a witness, and though he is only one, he is sufficient in the place of all. For Socrates knew by what the rational soul is moved, just like a pair of scales, and then it must incline, whether it chooses or not.²¹⁴ Show the rational governing faculty a contradiction, and it will withdraw from it; but if you do not show it, rather blame yourself than him who is not persuaded.²¹⁵

Discourses. Epictetus. George Long (Translator). London. 1890.

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Current edition Perseus

Arrian's Discourses of Epictetus (English) (Epictetus. The Discourses of Epictetus, with the Encheridion and Fragments. Long, George, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1887.)

Editions (1)

Ἀρριανοῦ τῶν Ἐπικτήτου Διατριβῶν Perseus (Epictetus. Epicteti dissertationes ab Arriano digestae, editio maior. Schenkl, Heinrich. editor. Leipzig: Teubner, 1916.) — 2.1 focus

ὅτι οὐ μάχεται τὸ θαρρεῖν τῷ εὐλαβεῖσθαι.

[1] παράδοξον μὲν τυχὸν φαίνεταί τισιν τὸ ἀξιούμενον ὑπὸ τῶν φιλοσόφων, ὅμως δὲ σκεψώμεθα κατὰ δύναμιν, εἰ ἀληθές ἐστι τὸ δεῖν ἅμα μὲν εὐλαβῶς ἅμα δὲ θαρρούντως πάντα ποιεῖν.

[2] ἐναντίον γάρ πως δοκεῖ τῷ θαρραλέῳ τὸ εὐλαβές, τὰ δʼ ἐναντία οὐδαμῶς συνυπάρχει.

[3] τὸ δὲ φαινόμενον πολλοῖς ἐν τῷ τόπῳ παράδοξον δοκεῖ μοι τοιούτου τινὸς ἔχεσθαι· εἰ μὲν γὰρ πρὸς ταὐτὰ ἠξιοῦμεν χρῆσθαι τῇ τʼ εὐλαβείᾳ καὶ τῷ θάρσει, δικαίως ἂν ἡμᾶς ᾐτιῶντο ὡς τὰ ἀσύνακτα συνάγοντας.

[4] νῦν δὲ τί δεινὸν ἔχει τὸ λεγόμενον; εἰ γὰρ ὑγιῆ ταῦτʼ ἐστι τὰ πολλάκις μὲν εἰρημένα, πολλάκις δʼ ἀποδεδειγμένα, ὅτι ἡ οὐσία τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἔστιν ἐν χρήσει φαντασιῶν καὶ τοῦ κακοῦ ὡσαύτως, τὰ δʼ ἀπροαίρετα οὔτε τὴν τοῦ κακοῦ δέχεται φύσιν οὔτε τὴν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ,

[5] τί παράδοξον ἀξιοῦσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι, εἰ λέγουσιν ὅπου μὲν τὰ ἀπροαίρετα, ἐκεῖ τὸ θάρσος ἔστω σοι, ὅπου δὲ τὰ προαιρετικά, ἐκεῖ ἡ εὐλάβεια;

[6] εἰ γὰρ ἐν κακῇ προαιρέσει τὸ κακόν, πρὸς μόνα ταῦτα χρῆσθαι ἄξιον εὐλαβείᾳ· εἰ δὲ τὰ ἀπροαίρετα καὶ μὴ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν οὐδὲν πρὸς ἡμᾶς, πρὸς ταῦτα τῷ θάρσει χρηστέον.

[7] καὶ οὕτως ἅμα μὲν εὐλαβεῖς ἅμα δὲ θαρραλέοι ἐσόμεθα καὶ νὴ Δία διὰ τὴν εὐλάβειαν θαρραλέοι. διὰ γὰρ τὸ εὐλαβεῖσθαι τὰ ὄντως κακὰ συμβήσεται θαρρεῖν ἡμῖν πρὸς τὰ μὴ οὕτως ἔχοντα.

[8] λοιπὸν ἡμεῖς τὸ τῶν ἐλάφων πάσχομεν· ὅτε φοβοῦνται καὶ φεύγουσιν αἱ ἔλαφοι τὰ πτερά, ποῦ τρέπονται καὶ πρὸς τίνα ἀναχωροῦσιν ὡς ἀσφαλῆ; πρὸς τὰ δίκτυα· καὶ οὕτως ἀπόλλυνται ἐναλλάξασαι τὰ φοβερὰ καὶ τὰ θαρραλέα.

[9] οὕτως καὶ ἡμεῖς ποῦ χρώμεθα τῷ φόβῳ; πρὸς τὰ ἀπροαίρετα. ἐν τίσιν πάλιν θαρροῦντες ἀναστρεφόμεθα ὡς οὐδενὸς ὄντος δεινοῦ; ἐν τοῖς προαιρετικοῖς.

[10] ἐξαπατηθῆναι ἢ προπεσεῖν ἢ ἀναίσχυντόν τι ποιῆσαι ἢ μετʼ ἐπιθυμίας αἰσχρᾶς ὀρεχθῆναί τινος οὐδὲν διαφέρει ἡμῖν, ἂν μόνον ἐν τοῖς ἀπροαιρέτ ικοις εὐστοχῶμεν. ὅπου δὲ θάνατος ἢ φυγὴ ἢ πόνος ἢ ἀδοξία, ἐκεῖ τὸ ἀναχωρητικόν, ἐκεῖ τὸ σεσοβημένον.

[11] τοιγαροῦν ὥσπερ εἰκὸς τοὺς περὶ τὰ μέγιστα διαμαρτάνοντας τὸ μὲν φύσει θαρραλέον θρασὺ κατασκευάζομεν, ἀπονενοημένον, ἰταμόν, ἀναίσχυντον, τὸ δʼ εὐλαβὲς φύσει καὶ αἰδῆμον δειλὸν καὶ ταπεινόν, φόβων καὶ ταραχῶν μεστόν.

[12] ἂν γάρ τις ἐκεῖ μεταθῇ τὸ εὐλαβές, ὅπου προαίρεσις καὶ ἔργα προαιρέσεως, εὐθὺς ἅμα τῷ θέλειν εὐλαβεῖσθαι καὶ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ κειμένην ἕξει τὴν ἔκκλισιν· ἂν δʼ ὅπου τὰ μὴ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἐστι καὶ ἀπροαίρετα, πρὸς τὰ ἐπʼ ἄλλοις ὄντα τὴν ἔκκλισιν ἔχων ἀναγκαίως φοβήσεται, ἀκαταστατήσει, ταραχθήσεται.

[13] οὐ γὰρ θάνατος ἢ πόνος φοβερόν, ἀλλὰ τὸ φοβεῖσθαι πόνον ἢ θάνατον. διὰ τοῦτο ἐπαινοῦμεν τὸν εἰπόντα ὅτι οὐ κατθανεῖν γὰρ δεινόν, ἀλλʼ αἰσχρῶς θανεῖν.

[14] ἔδει οὖν πρὸς μὲν τὸν θάνατον τὸ θάρσος ἐστράφθαι, πρὸς δὲ τὸν φόβον τοῦ θανάτου τὴν εὐλάβειαν· νῦν δὲ τὸ ἐναντίον πρὸς μὲν τὸν θάνατον τὴν φυγήν, πρὸς δὲ τὸ περὶ αὐτοῦ δόγμα τὴν ἀνεπιστρεψίαν καὶ τὸ ἀφειδὲς καὶ τὸ ἀδιαφορητικόν.

[15] ταῦτα δʼ ὁ Σωκράτης καλῶς ποιῶν μορμολύκεια ἐκάλει. ὡς γὰρ τοῖς παιδίοις τὰ προσωπεῖα φαίνεται δεινὰ καὶ φοβερὰ διʼ ἀπειρίαν, τοιοῦτόν τι καὶ ἡμεῖς πάσχομεν πρὸς τὰ πράγματα διʼ οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ ὥσπερ καὶ τὰ παιδία πρὸς τὰς μορμολυκείας.

[16] τί γάρ ἐστι παιδίον; ἄγνοια. τί ἐστι παιδίον; ἀμαθία. ἐπεὶ ὅπου οἶδεν, κἀκεῖνα οὐδὲν ἡμῶν ἔλαττον ἔχει.

[17] θάνατος τί ἐστιν; μορμολύκειον. στρέψας αὐτὸ κατάμαθε· ἰδοῦ, πῶς οὐ δάκνει. τὸ σωμάτιον δεῖ χωρισθῆναι τοῦ πνευματίου, ὡς πρότερον ἐκεχώριστο, ἢ νῦν ἢ ὕστερον. τί οὖν ἀγανακτεῖς, εἰ νῦν; εἰ γὰρ μὴ νῦν, ὕστερον.

[18] διὰ τί; ἵνα ἡ περίοδος ἀνύηται τοῦ κόσμου· χρείαν γὰρ ἔχει τῶν μὲν ἐνισταμένων, τῶν δὲ μελλόντων, τῶν δʼ ἠνυσμένων.

[19] πόνος τί ἐστιν; μορμολύκειον. στρέψον αὐτὸ καὶ κατάμαθε. τραχέως κινεῖται τὸ σαρκίδιον, εἶτα πάλιν λείως. ἄν σοι μὴ λυσιτελῇ, ἡ θύρα ἤνοικται· ἂν λυσιτελῇ, φέρε.

[20] πρὸς πάντα γὰρ ἠνοῖχθαι δεῖ τὴν θύραν· καὶ πρᾶγμα οὐκ ἔχομεν.

[21] τίς οὖν τούτων τῶν δογμάτων καρπός; ὅνπερ δεῖ κάλλιστόν τʼ εἶναι καὶ πρεπωδέστατον τοῖς τῷ ὄντι παιδευομένοις, ἀταραξία ἀφοβία ἐλευθερία.

[22] οὐ γὰρ τοῖς πολλοῖς περὶ τούτων πιστευτέον, οἳ λέγουσιν μόνοις ἐξεῖναι παιδεύεσθαι τοῖς ἐλευθέροις, ἀλλὰ τοῖς φιλοσόφοις μᾶλλον, οἳ λέγουσι μόνους τοὺς παιδευθέντας ἐλευθέρους εἶναι.

[23] — πῶς τοῦτο; — οὕτως· νῦν ἄλλο τί ἐστιν ἐλευθερία ἢ τὸ ἐξεῖναι ὡς βουλόμεθα διεξάγειν; οὐδέν. λέγετε δή μοι, ὦ ἄνθρωποι, βούλεσθε ζῆν ἁμαρτάνοντες; οὐ βουλόμεθα. οὐδεὶς τοίνυν ἁμαρτάνων ἐλεύθερός ἐστιν.

[24] βούλεσθε ζῆν φοβούμενοι, βούλεσθε λυπούμενοι, βούλεσθε ταρασσόμενοι; οὐδαμῶς. οὐδεὶς ἄρα οὔτε φοβούμενος οὔτε λυπούμενος οὔτε ταρασσόμενος ἐλεύθερός ἐστιν, ὅστις δʼ ἀπήλλακται λυπῶν καὶ φόβων καὶ ταραχῶν, οὗτος τῇ αὐτῇ ὁδῷ καὶ τοῦ δουλεύειν ἀπήλλακται.

[25] πῶς οὖν ἔτι ὑμῖν πιστεύσομεν, ὦ φίλτατοι νομοθέται; οὐκ ἐπιτρέπομεν παιδεύεσθαι, εἰ μὴ τοῖς ἐλευθέροις; οἱ φιλόσοφοι γὰρ λέγουσιν ὅτι οὐκ ἐπιτρέπομεν ἐλευθέροις εἶναι εἰ μὴ τοῖς πεπαιδευμένοις, τοῦτό ἐστιν ὁ θεὸς οὐκ ἐπιτρέπει.

[26] — ὅταν οὖν στρέψῃ τις ἐπὶ στρατηγοῦ τὸν αὑτοῦ δοῦλον, οὐδὲν ἐποίησεν; — ἐποίησεν. — τί; — ἔστρεψεν τὸν αὑτοῦ δοῦλον ἐπὶ στρατηγοῦ. — ἄλλο οὐδέν; — ναί· καὶ εἰκοστὴν αὐτοῦ δοῦναι ὀφείλει.

[27] — τί οὖν; ὁ ταῦτα παθὼν οὐ γέγονεν ἐλεύθερος; — οὐ μᾶλλον ἢ ἀτάραχος.

[28] ἐπεὶ σὺ ὁ ἄλλους στρέφειν δυνάμενος οὐδένα ἔχεις κύριον; οὐκ ἀργύριον, οὐ κοράσιον, οὐ παιδάριον, οὐ τὸν τύραννον, οὐ φίλον τινὰ τοῦ τυράννου; τί οὖν τρέμεις ἐπί τινα τοιαύτην ἀπιὼν περίστασιν;

[29] διὰ τοῦτο λέγω πολλάκις· ταῦτα μελετᾶτε καὶ ταῦτα πρόχειρα ἔχετε, πρὸς τίνα δεῖ τεθαρρηκέναι καὶ πρὸς τίνα εὐλαβῶς διακεῖσθαι, ὅτι πρὸς τὰ ἀπροαίρετα θαρρεῖν, εὐλαβεῖσθαι τὰ προαιρετικά.

[30] — ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἀνέγνων σοι οὐδʼ ἔγνως τί ποιῶ.

[31] — ἐν τίνι; ἐν λεξειδίοις. ἔχε σου τὰ λεξείδια· δεῖξον, πῶς ἔχεις πρὸς ὄρεξιν καὶ ἔκκλισιν, εἰ μὴ ἀποτυγχάνεις ὧν θέλεις, εἰ μὴ περιπίπτεις οἷς οὐ θέλεις. ἐκεῖνα δὲ τὰ περιόδια, ἂν νοῦν ἔχῃς, ἄρας πού ποτε ἀπαλείψεις.

[32] — τί οὖν; Σωκράτης οὐκ ἔγραφεν; — καὶ τίς τοσαῦτα; ἀλλὰ πῶς; ἐπεὶ μὴ ἐδύνατο ἔχειν ἀεὶ τὸν ἐλέγχοντα αὐτοῦ τὰ δόγματα ἢ ἐλεγχθησόμενον ἐν τῷ μέρει, αὐτὸς ἑαυτὸν ἤλεγχεν καὶ ἐξήταζεν καὶ ἀεὶ μίαν γέ τινα πρόληψιν ἐγύμναζεν χρηστικῶς.

[33] ταῦτα γράφει φιλόσοφος· λεξείδια δὲ καὶ ἡ ὁδός, ἣν λέγω, ἄλλοις ἀφίησι, τοῖς ἀναισθήτοις ἢ τοῖς μακαρίοις, τοῖς σχολὴν ἄγουσιν ὑπὸ ἀταραξίας ἢ τοῖς μηδὲν τῶν ἑξῆς ὑπολογιζομένοις διὰ μωρίαν.

[34] καὶ νῦν καιροῦ καλοῦντος ἐκεῖνα δείξεις ἀπελθὼν καὶ ἀναγνώσῃ καὶ ἐμπερπερεύσῃ; ἰδοῦ, πῶς διαλόγους συντίθημι.

[35] μή, ἄνθρωπε, ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνα μᾶλλον ἰδοῦ, πῶς ὀρεγόμενος οὐκ ἀποτυγχάνω. ἰδοῦ, πῶς ἐκκλίνων οὐ περιπίπτω. φέρε θάνατον καὶ γνώσῃ· φέρε πόνους, φέρε δεσμωτήριον, φέρε ἀδοξίαν, φέρε καταδίκην.

[36] αὕτη ἐπίδειξις νέου ἐκ σχολῆς ἐληλυθότος. τἆλλα δʼ ἄλλοις ἄφες, μηδὲ φωνήν τις ἀκούσῃ σου περὶ αὐτῶν ποτε μηδʼ, ἂν ἐπαινέσῃ τις ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς, ἀνέχου, δόξον δὲ μηδεὶς εἶναι καὶ εἰδέναι μηδέν.

[37] μόνον τοῦτο εἰδὼς φαίνου, πῶς μήτʼ ἀποτύχῃς ποτὲ μήτε περιπέσῃς.

[38] ἄλλοι μελετάτωσαν δίκας, ἄλλοι προβλήματα, ἄλλοι συλλογισμούς· σὺ ἀποθνῄσκειν, σὺ δεδέσθαι, σὺ στρεβλοῦσθαι, σὺ ἐξορίζεσθαι.

[39] πάντα ταῦτα θαρρούντως, πεποιθότως τῷ κεκληκότι σε ἐπʼ αὐτά, τῷ ἄξιον τῆς χώρας ταύτης κεκρικότι, ἐν ᾗ καταταχθεὶς ἐπιδείξεις, τίνα δύναται λογικὸν ἡγεμονικὸν πρὸς τὰς ἀπροαιρέτους δυνάμεις ἀντιταξάμενον.

[40] καὶ οὕτως τὸ παράδοξον ἐκεῖνο οὐκέτι οὔτʼ ἀδύνατον φανεῖται οὔτε παράδοξον, ὅτι ἅμα μὲν εὐλαβεῖσθαι δεῖ ἅμα δὲ θαρρεῖν, πρὸς μὲν τὰ ἀπροαίρετα θαρρεῖν, ἐν δὲ τοῖς προαιρετικοῖς εὐλαβεῖσθαι.

περὶ ἀταραξίας.

[1] ὅρα σὺ ὁ ἀπιὼν ἐπὶ τὴν δίκην, τί θέλεις τηρῆσαι καὶ ποῦ θέλεις ἀνύσαι.

[2] εἰ γὰρ προαίρεσιν θέλεις τηρῆσαι κατὰ φύσιν ἔχουσαν, πᾶσά σοι ἀσφάλεια, πᾶσά σοι εὐμάρεια, πρᾶγμα οὐκ ἔχεις.

[3] τὰ γὰρ ἐπὶ σοὶ αὐτεξούσια καὶ φύσει ἐλεύθερα θέλων τηρῆσαι καὶ τούτοις ἀρκούμενος τίνος ἔτι ἐπιστρέφῃ; τίς γὰρ αὐτῶν κύριος, τίς αὐτὰ δύναται ἀφελέσθαι;

[4] εἰ θέλεις αἰδήμων εἶναι καὶ πιστός, τίς οὐκ ἐάσει σε; εἰ θέλεις μὴ κωλύεσθαι μηδʼ ἀναγκάζεσθαι, τίς σε ἀναγκάσει ὀρέγεσθαι ὧν οὐ δοκεῖ σοι, τίς ἐκκλίνειν ἃ μὴ φαίνεταί σοι;

[5] ἀλλὰ τί; πράξει μέν σοί τινα ἃ δοκεῖ φοβερὰ εἶναι· ἵνα δὲ καὶ ἐκκλίνων αὐτὰ πάθῃς, πῶς δύναται ποιῆσαι;

[6] ὅταν οὖν ἐπὶ σοὶ ᾖ τὸ ὀρέγεσθαι καὶ ἐκκλίνειν, τίνος ἔτι ἐπιστρέφῃ;

[7] τοῦτό σοι προοίμιον, τοῦτο διήγησις, τοῦτο πίστις, τοῦτο νίκη, τοῦτο ἐπίλογος, τοῦτο εὐδοκίμησις.

[8] διὰ τοῦτο ὁ Σωκράτης πρὸς τὸν ὑπομιμνῄσκοντα, ἵνα παρασκευάζηται πρὸς τὴν δίκην, ἔφη οὐ δοκῶ οὖν σοι ἅπαντι τῷ βίῳ πρὸς τοῦτο παρασκευάζεσθαι;

[9] — ποίαν παρασκευήν; — τετήρηκα, φησίν, τὸ ἐπʼ ἐμοί. — πῶς οὖν; — οὐδὲν οὐδέποτʼ ἄδικον οὔτʼ ἰδίᾳ οὔτε δημοσίᾳ ἔπραξα.

[10] εἰ δὲ θέλεις καὶ τὰ ἐκτὸς τηρῆσαι, τὸ σωμάτιον καὶ τὸ οὐσίδιον καὶ τὸ ἀξιωμάτιον, λέγω σοι· ἤδη αὐτόθεν παρασκευάζου τὴν δυνατὴν παρασκευὴν πᾶσαν καὶ λοιπὸν σκέπτου καὶ τὴν φύσιν τοῦ δικαστοῦ καὶ τὸν ἀντίδικον.

[11] εἰ γονάτων ἅψασθαι δεῖ, γονάτων ἅψαι· εἰ κλαῦσαι, κλαῦσον· εἰ οἰμῶξαι, οἴμωξον.

[12] ὅταν γὰρ ὑποθῇς τὰ σὰ τοῖς ἐκτός, δούλευε τὸ λοιπὸν καὶ μὴ ἀντισπῶ καὶ ποτὲ μὲν θέλε δουλεύειν, ποτὲ δὲ μὴ θέλε,

[13] ἀλλʼ ἁπλῶς καὶ ἐξ ὅλης τῆς διανοίας ἢ ταῦτα ἢ ἐκεῖνα· ἢ ἐλεύθερος ἢ δοῦλος, ἢ πεπαιδευμένος ἢ ἀπαίδευτος, ἢ γενναῖος ἀλεκτρυὼν ἢ ἀγεννής, ἢ ὑπόμενε τυπτόμενος, μέχρις ἂν ἀποθάνῃς, ἢ ἀπαγόρευσον εὐθύς. μή σοι γένοιτο πληγὰς πολλὰς λαβεῖν καὶ ὕστερον ἀπαγορεῦσαι.

[14] εἰ δʼ αἰσχρὰ ταῦτα, αὐτόθεν ἤδη δίελε ποῦ φύσις κακῶν καὶ ἀγαθῶν; οὗ καὶ ἀλήθεια. ὅπου ἀλήθεια καὶ οὗ φύσις, ἐκεῖ τὸ εὐλαβές· ὅπου ἡ ἀλήθεια, ἐκεῖ τὸ θαρραλέον, ὅπου ἡ φύσις.

[15] ἐπεί τ οι δοκεῖς, ὅτι τὰ ἐκτὸς τηρῆσαι θέλων Σωκράτης παρελθὼν ἂν ἔλεγε ἐμὲ δʼ Ἄνυτος καὶ Μέλητος ἀποκτεῖναι μὲν δύνανται, βλάψαι δʼ οὔ;

[16] οὕτω μωρὸς ἦν, ἵνα μὴ ἴδῃ ὅτι αὕτη ἡ ὁδὸς ἐνταῦθα οὐ φέρει, ἀλλʼ ἄλλῃ; τί οὖν ἐστιν, ὅτι οὐκ ἔχει λόγον καὶ προσερεθίζει;

[17] ὡς ὁ ἐμὸς Ἡράκλειτος περὶ ἀγριδίου πραγμάτιον ἔχων ἐν Ῥόδῳ καὶ ἀποδείξας τοῖς δικασταῖς ὅτι δίκαια λέγει ἐλθὼν ἐπὶ τὸν ἐπίλογον ἔφη ὅτι ἀλλʼ οὔτε δεήσομαι ὑμῶν οὔτʼ ἐπιστρέφομαι, τί μέλλετε κρίνειν· ὑμεῖς τε μᾶλλον οἱ κρινόμενοί ἐστε ἢ ἐγώ.

[18] καὶ οὕτως κατέστρεψε τὸ πραγμάτιον. τίς χρεία; μόνον μὴ δέου, μὴ προστίθει δʼ ὅτι καὶ οὐ δέομαι. εἰ μή τι καιρός ἐστιν ἐπίτηδες ἐρεθίσαι τοὺς δικαστὰς ὡς Σωκράτει.

[19] καὶ σὺ εἰ τοιοῦτον ἐπίλογον παρασκευάζῃ, τί ἀναβαίνεις, τί ὑπακούεις;

[20] εἰ γὰρ σταυρωθῆναι θέλεις, ἔκδεξαι καὶ ἥξει ὁ σταυρός· εἰ δʼ ὑπακοῦσαι λόγος αἱρεῖ καὶ πεῖσαι τό γε παρʼ αὐτόν, τὰ ἑξῆς τούτῳ ποιητέον τηροῦντι μέντοι τὰ ἴδια.

[21] ταύτῃ καὶ γελοῖόν ἐστι τὸ λέγειν ὑπόθου μοι. τί σοι ὑποθῶμαι; ἀλλὰ ποίησόν μου τὴν διάνοιαν ὅ τι ἂν ἀποβαίνῃ πρὸς τοῦτο ἁρμόσασθαι.

[22] ἐπεὶ ἐκεῖνό γε ὅμοιόν ἐστιν οἷον εἰ ἀγράμματος λέγοι εἰπέ μοι τί γράψω, ὅταν μοι προβληθῇ τι ὄνομα.

[23] ἂν γὰρ εἴπω ὅτι Δίων, εἶτα παρελθὼν ἐκεῖνος αὐτῷ προβάλῃ μὴ τὸ Δίωνος ὄνομα, ἀλλὰ τὸ Θέωνος, τί γένηται;

[24] τί γράψῃ; ἀλλʼ εἰ μὲν μεμελέτηκας γράφειν, ἔχεις καὶ παρασκευάσασθαι πρὸς πάντα τὰ ὑπαγορευόμενα· εἰ δὲ μή, τί σοι ἐγὼ νῦν ὑποθῶμαι; ἂν γὰρ ἄλλο τι ὑπαγορεύῃ τὰ πράγματα, τί ἐρεῖς ἢ τί πράξεις;

[25] τούτου οὖν τοῦ καθολικοῦ μέμνησο καὶ ὑποθήκης οὐκ ἀπορήσεις. ἐὰν δὲ πρὸς τὰ ἔξω χάσκῃς, ἀνάγκη σε ἄνω καὶ κάτω κυλίεσθαι πρὸς τὸ βούλημα τοῦ κυρίου.

[26] τίς δʼ ἐστὶ κύριος; ὁ τῶν ὑπὸ σοῦ τινος σπουδαζομένων ἢ ἐκκλινομένων ἔχων ἐξουσίαν.

πρὸς τοὺς συνιστάντας τινὰς τοῖς φιλοσόφοις.

[1] καλῶς ὁ Διογένης πρὸς τὸν ἀξιοῦντα γράμματα παρʼ αὐτοῦ λαβεῖν συστατικὰ ὅτι μὲν ἄνθρωπος, φησίν, εἶ, καὶ ἰδὼν γνώσεται· εἰ δʼ ἀγαθὸς ἢ κακός, εἰ μὲν ἔμπειρός ἐστι διαγνῶναι τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς καὶ κακούς, γνώσεται, εἰ δʼ ἄπειρος, οὐδʼ ἂν μυριάκις γράψω αὐτῷ.

[2] ὅμοιον γὰρ ὥσπερ εἰ δραχμὴ συσταθῆναί τινι ἠξίου, ἵνα δοκιμασθῇ. εἰ ἀργυρογνωμονικός ἐστιν, σὺ σαυτὴν συστήσεις.

[3] ἔδει οὖν τοιοῦτόν τι ἔχειν ἡμᾶς καὶ ἐν τῷ βίῳ οἷον ἐπʼ ἀργυρίου, ἵνʼ εἰπεῖν δύνωμαι καθάπερ ὁ ἀργυρογνώμων λέγει φέρε ἣν θέλεις δραχμὴν καὶ διαγνώσομαι.

[4] ἀλλʼ ἐπὶ συλλογισμῶν φέρε ὃν θέλεις καὶ διακρινῶ σοι τὸν ἀναλυτικόν τε καὶ μή. διὰ τί; οἶδα γὰρ ἀναλύειν συλλογισμούς· ἔχω τὴν δύναμιν, ἣν ἔχειν δεῖ τὸν ἐπιγνωστικὸν τῶν περὶ συλλογισμοὺς κατορθούντων.

[5] ἐπὶ δὲ τοῦ βίου τί ποιῶ; νῦν μὲν λέγω ἀγαθόν, νῦν δὲ κακόν. τί τὸ αἴτιον; τὸ ἐναντίον ἢ ἐπὶ τῶν συλλογισμῶν, ἀμαθία καὶ ἀπειρία.

πρὸς τὸν ἐπὶ μοιχείᾳ ποτὲ κατειλημμένον.

[1] λέγοντος αὐτοῦ ὅτι Ὁ ἄνθρωπος πρὸς πίστιν γέγονεν καὶ τοῦτο ὁ ἀνατρέπων ἀνατρέπει τὸ ἴδιον τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐπεισῆλθέν τις τῶν δοκούντων φιλολόγων, ὃς κατείληπτό ποτε μοιχὸς ἐν τῇ πόλει.

[2] ὁ δʼ Ἀλλʼ ἄν, φησίν, ἀφέντες τοῦτο τὸ πιστόν, πρὸς ὃ πεφύκαμεν, ἐπιβουλεύωμεν τῇ γυναικὶ τοῦ γείτονος, τί ποιοῦμεν; τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἢ ἀπόλλυμεν καὶ ἀναιροῦμεν; τίνα; τὸν πιστόν, τὸν αἰδήμονα, τὸν ὅσιον.

[3] ταῦτα μόνα; γειτνίασιν δʼ οὐκ ἀναιροῦμεν, φιλίαν δʼ οὔ, πόλιν δʼ οὔ; εἰς τίνα δὲ χώραν αὑτοὺς κατατάσσομεν; ὡς τίνι σοι χρῶμαι, ἄνθρωπε; ὡς γείτονι, ὡς φίλῳ; ποίῳ τινί; ὡς πολίτῃ; τί σοι πιστεύσω;

[4] εἶτα σκευάριον μὲν εἰ ἦς οὕτως σαπρόν, ὥστε σοι πρὸς μηδὲν δύνασθαι χρῆσθαι, ἔξω ἂν ἐπὶ τὰς κοπρίας ἐρρίπτου καὶ οὐδʼ ἐκεῖθεν ἄν τίς σε ἀνῃρεῖτο·

[5] εἰ δʼ ἄνθρωπος ὢν οὐδεμίαν χώραν δύνασαι ἀποπληρῶσαι ἀνθρωπικήν, τί σε ποιήσομεν; ἔστω γάρ, φίλου οὐ δύνασαι τόπον ἔχειν· δούλου δύνασαι; καὶ τίς σοι πιστεύσει; οὐ θέλεις οὖν ῥιφῆναί που καὶ αὐτὸς ἐπὶ κοπρίαν ὡς σκεῦος ἄχρηστον, ὡς κόπριον;

[6] εἶτα ἐρεῖς οὐδείς μου ἐπιστρέφεται, ἀνθρώπου φιλολόγου; κακὸς γὰρ εἶ καὶ ἄχρηστος. οἷον εἰ οἱ σφῆκες ἠγανάκτουν, ὅτι οὐδεὶς αὐτῶν ἐπιστρέφεται, ἀλλὰ φεύγουσι πάντες κἄν τις δύνηται, πλήξας κατέβαλεν.

[7] σὺ κέντρον ἔχεις τοιοῦτον, ὥστε ὃν ἂν πλήξῃς εἰς πράγματα καὶ ὀδύνας ἐμβάλλειν. τί σε θέλεις ποιήσωμεν; οὐκ ἔχεις ποῦ τεθῇς.

[8] τί οὖν; οὐκ εἰσὶν αἱ γυναῖκες κοιναὶ φύσει; κἀγὼ λέγω. καὶ γὰρ τὸ χοιρίδιον κοινὸν τῶν κεκλημένων· ἀλλʼ ὅταν μέρη γένηται, ἄν σοι φανῇ, ἀνάρπασον ἀπελθὼν τὸ τοῦ παρακατακειμένου μέρος, λάθρᾳ κλέψον ἢ παρακαθεὶς τὴν χεῖρα λίχνευε, κἂν μὴ δύνῃ τοῦ κρέως ἀποσπάσαι, λίπαινε τοὺς δακτύλους καὶ περίλειχε. καλὸς συμπότης καὶ σύνδειπνος Σωκρατικός.

[9] ἄγε, τὸ δὲ θέατρον οὐκ ἔστι κοινὸν τῶν πολιτῶν; ὅταν οὖν καθίσωσιν, ἐλθών, ἄν σοι φανῇ, ἔκβαλέ τινα αὐτῶν.

[10] οὕτως καὶ αἱ γυναῖκες φύσει κοιναί. ὅταν δʼ ὁ νομοθέτης ὡς ἑστιάτωρ διέλῃ αὐτάς, οὐ θέλεις καὶ αὐτὸς ἴδιον μέρος ζητεῖν, ἀλλὰ τὸ ἀλλότριον ὑφαρπάζεις καὶ λιχνεύεις;

[11] ἀλλὰ φιλόλογός εἰμι καὶ Ἀρχέδημον νοῶ. Ἀρχέδημον τοίνυν νοῶν μοιχὸς ἴσθι καὶ ἄπιστος καὶ ἀντὶ ἀνθρώπου λύκος ἢ πίθηκος. τί γὰρ κωλύει;

πῶς συνυπάρχει μεγαλοφροσύνη καὶ ἐπιμέλεια.

[1] αἱ ὗλαι ἀδιάφοροι, ἡ δὲ χρῆσις αὐτῶν οὐκ ἀδιάφορος.

[2] πῶς οὖν τηρήσῃ τις ἅμα μὲν τὸ εὐσταθὲς καὶ ἀτάραχον, ἅμα δὲ τὸ ἐπιμελὲς καὶ μὴ εἰκαῖον μηδʼ ἐπισεσυρμένον;

[3] ἂν μιμῆται τοὺς κυβεύοντας. αἱ ψῆφοι ἀδιάφοροι, οἱ κύβοι ἀδιάφοροι· πόθεν οἶδα, τί μέλλει πίπτειν; τῷ πεσόντι δʼ ἐπιμελῶς καὶ τεχνικῶς χρῆσθαι, τοῦτο ἤδη ἐμὸν ἔργον ἐστίν.

[4] οὕτως τοίνυν τὸ μὲν προηγούμενον καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦ βίου ἔργον ἐκεῖνο· δίελε τὰ πράγματα καὶ διάστησον καὶ εἰπὲ τὰ ἔξω οὐκ ἐπʼ ἐμοί· προαίρεσις ἐπʼ ἐμοί.

[5] ποῦ ζητήσω τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ κακόν; ἔσω ἐν τοῖς ἐμοῖς. ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις μηδέποτε μήτʼ ἀγαθὸν ὀνομάσῃς μήτε κακὸν μήτʼ ὠφέλειαν μήτε βλάβην μήτʼ ἄλλο τι τῶν τοιούτων.

[6] τί οὖν; ἀμελῶς τούτοις χρηστέον; οὐδαμῶς. τοῦτο γὰρ πάλιν τῇ προαιρέσει κακόν ἐστι καὶ ταύτῃ τὴν παρὰ φύσιν.

[7] ἀλλʼ ἅμα μὲν ἐπιμελῶς, ὅτι ἡ χρῆσις οὐκ ἀδιάφορον, ἅμα δʼ εὐσταθῶς καὶ ἀταράχως, ὅτι ἡ ὕλη οὐ διαφέρουσα.

[8] ὅπου γὰρ τὸ διαφέρον, ἐκεῖ οὔτε κωλῦσαί μέ τις δύναται οὔτʼ ἀναγκάσαι. ὅπου κωλυτὸς καὶ ἀναγκαστός εἰμι, ἐκείνων ἡ μὲν τεῦξις οὐκ ἐπʼ ἐμοὶ οὐδʼ ἀγαθὸν ἢ κακόν, ἡ χρῆσις δʼ ἢ κακὸν ἢ ἀγαθόν, ἀλλʼ ἐπʼ ἐμοί.

[9] δύσκολον δὲ μῖξαι καὶ συναγαγεῖν ταῦτα, ἐπιμέλειαν τοῦ προσπεπονθότος ταῖς ὕλαις καὶ εὐστάθειαν τοῦ ἀνεπιστρεπτοῦντος, πλὴν οὐκ ἀδύνατον. εἰ δὲ μή, ἀδύνατον τὸ εὐδαιμονῆσαι.

[10] ἀλλʼ οἷόν τι ἐπὶ τοῦ πλοῦ ποιοῦμεν. τί μοι δύναται; τὸ ἐκλέξασθαι τὸν κυβερνήτην, τοὺς ναύτας, τὴν ἡμέραν, τὸν καιρόν.

[11] εἶτα χειμὼν ἐμπέπτωκεν. τί οὖν ἔτι μοι μέλει; τὰ γὰρ ἐμὰ ἐκπεπλήρωται. ἄλλου ἐστὶν ἡ ὑπόθεσις, τοῦ κυβερνήτου. ἀλλὰ καὶ ἡ ναῦς καταδύεται.

[12] τί οὖν ἔχω ποιῆσαι; ὃ δύναμαι, τοῦτο μόνον ποιῶ· μὴ φοβούμενος ἀποπνίγομαι οὐδὲ κεκραγὼς οὐδʼ ἐγκαλῶν τῷ θεῷ, ἀλλʼ εἰδώς, ὅτι τὸ γενόμενον καὶ φθαρῆναι δεῖ.

[13] οὐ γάρ εἰμι αἰών, ἀλλʼ ἄνθρωπος, μέρος τῶν πάντων ὡς ὥρα ἡμέρας. ἐνστῆναί με δεῖ ὡς τὴν ὥραν καὶ παρελθεῖν ὡς ὥραν.

[14] τί οὖν μοι διαφέρει πῶς παρέλθω, πότερον πνιγεὶς ἢ πυρέξας; διὰ γὰρ τοιούτου τινὸς δεῖ παρελθεῖν με.

[15] τοῦτο ὄψει ποιοῦντας καὶ τοὺς σφαιρίζοντας ἐμπείρως. οὐδεὶς αὐτῶν διαφέρεται περὶ τοῦ ἁρπαστοῦ ὡς περὶ ἀγαθοῦ ἢ κακοῦ, περὶ δὲ τοῦ βάλλειν καὶ δέχεσθαι.

[16] λοιπὸν ἐν τούτῳ ἡ εὐρυθμία, ἐν τούτῳ ἡ τέχνη, τὸ τάχος, ἡ εὐγνωμοσύνη, ἵνʼ ἐγώ, μηδʼ ἂν τὸν κόλπον ἐκτείνω, δύναμαι λαβεῖν αὐτό, ὁ δέ, ἂν βάλω, λαμβάνει.

[17] ἂν δὲ μετὰ ταραχῆς καὶ φόβου δεχώμεθα ἢ βάλλωμεν αὐτό, ποία ἔτι παιδιά, ποῦ δέ τις εὐσταθήσει, ποῦ δέ τις τὸ ἑξῆς ὄψεται ἐν αὐτῇ; ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ἐρεῖ βάλε, ὁ δὲ μὴ βάλῃς, ὁ δὲ μὴ ἀνέβαλες. τοῦτο δὴ μάχη ἐστὶ καὶ οὐ παιδιά.

[18] τοιγαροῦν Σωκράτης ᾔδει σφαιρίζειν. πῶς; παίζειν ἐν τῷ δικαστηρίῳ. λέγε μοι, φησίν, Ἄνυτε, πῶς με φῂς θεὸν οὐ νομίζειν; οἱ δαίμονές σοι τίνες εἶναι δοκοῦσιν; οὐχὶ ἤτοι θεῶν παῖδές εἰσιν ἢ ἐξ ἀνθρώπων καὶ θεῶν μεμιγμένοι τινές;

[19] ὁμολογήσαντος δὲ τίς οὖν σοι δοκεῖ δύνασθαι ἡμιόνους μὲν ἡγεῖσθαι εἶναι, ὄνους δὲ μή; ὡς ἁρπαστίῳ παίζων. καὶ τί ἐκεῖ ἐν μέσῳ ἁρπάστιον τότʼ ἦν; τὸ δεδέσθαι, τὸ φυγαδευθῆναι, τὸ πιεῖν φάρμακον, τὸ γυναικὸς ἀφαιρεθῆναι, τὸ τέκνα ὀρφανὰ καταλιπεῖν.

[20] ταῦτα ἦν ἐν μέσῳ οἷς ἔπαιζεν, ἀλλʼ οὐδὲν ἧττον ἔπαιζεν καὶ ἐσφαίριζεν εὐρύθμως. οὕτως καὶ ἡμεῖς τὴν μὲν ἐπιμέλειαν σφαιριστικωτάτην, τὴν δʼ ἀδιαφορίαν ὡς ὑπὲρ ἁρπαστίου.

[21] δεῖ γὰρ πάντως περί τινα τῶν ἐκτὸς ὑλῶν φιλοτεχνεῖν, ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἐκείνην ἀποδεχόμενον, ἀλλʼ οἵα ἂν ᾖ ἐκείνη, τὴν περὶ αὐτὴν φιλοτεχνίαν ἐπιδεικνύοντα. οὕτως καὶ ὁ ὑφάντης οὐκ ἔρια ποιεῖ, ἀλλʼ οἷα ἂν παραλάβῃ περὶ αὐτὰ φιλοτεχνεῖ.

[22] ἄλλος σοι δίδωσι τροφὰς καὶ κτῆσιν καὶ αὐτὰ ταῦτα δύναται ἀφελέσθαι καὶ τὸ σωμάτιον αὐτό. σὺ λοιπὸν παραλαβὼν τὴν ὕλην ἐργάζου. εἶτα ἂν ἐξέλθῃς μηδὲν παθών,

[23] οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι ἀπαντῶντές σοι συγχαρήσονται ὅτι ἐσώθης, ὁ δʼ εἰδὼς βλέπειν τὰ τοιαῦτα, ἂν μὲν ἴδῃ ὅτι εὐσχημόνως ἀνεστράφης ἐν τούτῳ, ἐπαινέσει καὶ συνησθήσεται· ἂν δὲ διʼ ἀσχημοσύνην τινὰ διασεσωσμένον, τὰ ἐναντία. ὅπου γὰρ τὸ χαίρειν εὐλόγως, ἐκεῖ καὶ τὸ συγχαίρειν.

[24] πῶς οὖν λέγεται τῶν ἐκτός τινα κατὰ φύσιν καὶ παρὰ φύσιν; ὥσπερ ἂν εἰ ἀπόλυτοι ἦμεν. τῷ γὰρ ποδὶ κατὰ φύσιν εἶναι ἐρῶ τὸ καθαρῷ εἶναι, ἀλλʼ, ἂν αὐτὸν ὡς πόδα λάβῃς καὶ ὡς μὴ ἀπόλυτον, καθήξει αὐτὸν καὶ εἰς πηλὸν ἐμβαίνειν καὶ ἀκάνθας πατῆσαι καὶ ἔστιν ὅτε ἀποκοπῆναι ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὅλου· εἰ δὲ μή, οὐκέτι ἔσται πούς. τοιοῦτόν τι καὶ ἐφʼ ἡμῶν ὑπολαβεῖν δεῖ.

[25] τί εἶ; ἄνθρωπος. εἰ μὲν ὡς ἀπόλυτον σκοπεῖς, κατὰ φύσιν ἐστὶ ζῆσαι μέχρι γήρως, πλουτεῖν, ὑγιαίνειν. εἰ δʼ ὡς ἄνθρωπον σκοπεῖς καὶ μέρος ὅλου τινός, διʼ ἐκεῖνο τὸ ὅλον νῦν μέν σοι νοσῆσαι καθήκει, νῦν δὲ πλεῦσαι καὶ κινδυνεῦσαι, νῦν δʼ ἀπορηθῆναι, πρὸ ὥρας δʼ ἔστιν ὅτʼ ἀποθανεῖν.

[26] τί οὖν ἀγανακτεῖς; οὐκ οἶδας ὅτι ὡς ἐκεῖνος οὐκέτι ἔσται πούς, οὕτως οὐδὲ σὺ ἄνθρωπος; τί γάρ ἐστιν ἄνθρωπος; μέρος πόλεως, πρώτης μὲν τῆς ἐκ θεῶν καὶ ἀνθρώπων, μετὰ ταῦτα δὲ τῆς ὡς ἔγγιστα λεγομένης, ἥ τί ἐστι μικρὸν τῆς ὅλης μίμημα.

[27] νῦν οὖν ἐμὲ κρίνεσθαι; νῦν οὖν ἄλλον πυρέσσειν, ἄλλον πλεῖν, ἄλλον ἀποθνῄσκειν, ἄλλον κατακεκρίσθαι; ἀδύνατον γὰρ ἐν τοιούτῳ σώματι, ἐν τούτῳ τῷ περιέχοντι, τούτοις τοῖς συζῶσιν μὴ συμπίπτειν ἄλλοις ἄλλα τοιαῦτα.

[28] σὸν οὖν ἔργον ἐλθόντα εἰπεῖν ἃ δεῖ, διαθέσθαι ταῦτα ὡς ἐπιβάλλει.

[29] εἶτα ἐκεῖνος λέγει κρίνω σε ἀδικεῖν. εὖ σοι γένοιτο. ἐποίησα ἐγὼ τὸ ἐμόν, εἰ δὲ καὶ σὺ τὸ σὸν ἐποίησας, ὄψει αὐτός. ἔστι γάρ τις κἀκείνου κίνδυνος, μή σε λανθανέτω.

περὶ ἀδιαφορίας.

[1] τὸ συνημμένον ἀδιάφορον· ἡ κρίσις ἡ περὶ αὐτοῦ οὐκ ἀδιάφορος, ἀλλʼ ἢ ἐπιστήμη ἢ δόξα ἢ ἀπάτη. οὕτως τὸ ζῆν ἀδιάφορον, ἡ χρῆσις οὐκ ἀδιάφορος.

[2] μή ποτʼ οὖν, ὅταν εἴπῃ τις ὑμῖν ἀδιαφορεῖν καὶ ταῦτα, ἀμελεῖς γίνεσθε, μήθʼ ὅταν εἰς ἐπιμέλειάν τις ὑμᾶς παρακαλῇ, ταπεινοὶ καὶ τᾶς ὕλας τεθαυμακότες.

[3] καλὸν δὲ καὶ τὸ εἰδέναι τὴν αὑτοῦ παρασκευὴν καὶ δύναμιν, ἵνʼ ἐν οἷς μὴ παρεσκεύασαι, ἡσυχίαν ἄγῃς μηδʼ ἀγανακτῇς, εἴ τινες ἄλλοι πλεῖόν σου ἔχουσιν ἐν ἐκείνοις.

[4] καὶ γὰρ σὺ ἐν συλλογισμοῖς πλεῖον ἀξιώσεις σεαυτὸν ἔχειν κἂν ἀγανακτῶσιν ἐπὶ τούτῳ, παραμυθήσῃ αὐτούς· ἐγὼ ἔμαθον, ὑμεῖς δʼ οὔ.

[5] οὕτως καί, ὅπου τινὸς χρεία τριβῆς, μὴ ζήτει τὸ ἀπὸ τῆς χρείας περιγινόμενον, ἀλλʼ ἐκείνου μὲν παραχώρει τοῖς περιτετριμμένοις, σοὶ δʼ ἀρκείτω τὸ εὐσταθεῖν.

[6] ἄπελθε καὶ ἄσπασαι τὸν δεῖνα. ἀσπάζομαι. πῶς; οὐ ταπεινῶς. ἀλλʼ ἐξεκλείσθης. διὰ θυρίδος γὰρ οὐκ ἔμαθον εἰσέρχεσθαι. ὅταν δὲ κεκλειμένην εὕρω τὴν θύραν, ἀνάγκη μʼ ἢ ἀποχωρῆσαι ἢ διὰ τῆς θυρίδος εἰσελθεῖν.

[7] ἀλλὰ καὶ λάλησον αὐτῷ. λαλῶ.

[8] τίνα τρόπον; οὐ ταπεινῶς. ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἐπέτυχες. μὴ γὰρ σὸν τοῦτο τὸ ἔργον ἦν; ἀλλʼ ἐκείνου. τί οὖν ἀντιποιῇ τοῦ ἀλλοτρίου; ἀεὶ μεμνημένος ὅ τι σὸν καὶ τί ἀλλότριον καὶ οὐ ταραχθήσῃ.

[9] διὰ τοῦτο καλῶς ὁ Χρύσιππος λέγει ὅτι μέχρις ἂν ἄδηλά μοι ᾖ τὰ ἑξῆς, ἀεὶ τῶν εὐφυεστέρων ἔχομαι πρὸς τὸ τυγχάνειν τῶν κατὰ φύσιν· αὐτὸς γάρ μʼ ὁ θεὸς ἐποίησεν τούτων ἐκλεκτικόν.

[10] εἰ δέ γε ᾔδειν ὅτι νοσεῖν μοι καθείμαρται νῦν, καὶ ὥρμων ἂν ἐπʼ αὐτό· καὶ γὰρ ὁ πούς, εἰ φρένας εἶχεν, ὥρμα ἂν ἐπὶ τὸ πηλοῦσθαι.

[11] ἐπεί τοι τίνος ἕνεκα γίνονται στάχυες; οὐχ ἵνα καὶ ξηρανθῶσιν; ἀλλὰ ξηραίνονται μέν, οὐχ ἵνα δὲ καὶ θερισθῶσιν;

[12] οὐ γὰρ ἀπόλυτοι γίνονται. εἰ οὖν αἴσθησιν εἶχον, εὔχεσθαι αὐτοὺς ἔδει, ἵνα μὴ θερισθῶσιν μηδέποτε; τοῦτο δὲ κατάρα ἐστὶν ἐπὶ σταχύων τὸ μηδέποτε θερισθῆναι.

[13] οὕτως ἴστε ὅτι καὶ ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπων κατάρα ἐστὶ τὸ μὴ ἀποθανεῖν· ὅμοιον τῷ μὴ πεπανθῆναι, μὴ θερισθῆναι.

[14] ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐπειδὴ οἱ αὐτοί ἐσμεν, ἅμα μὲν οὓς δεῖ θερισθῆναι, ἅμα δὲ καὶ αὐτῷ τούτῳ παρακολουθοῦντες ὅτι θεριζόμεθα, διὰ τοῦτο ἀγανακτοῦμεν. οὔτε γὰρ ἴσμεν τίνες ἐσμὲν οὔτε μεμελετήκαμεν τὰ ἀνθρωπικὰ ὡς ἱππικοὶ τὰ ἱππικά.

[15] ἀλλὰ Χρυσάντας μὲν παίειν μέλλων τὸν πολέμιον, ἐπειδὴ τῆς σάλπιγγος ἤκουσεν ἀνακαλούσης, ἀνέσχεν· οὕτως προυργιαίτερον ἔδοξεν αὐτῷ τὸ τοῦ στρατηγοῦ πρόσταγμα ἢ τὸ ἴδιον ποιεῖν·

[16] ἡμῶν δʼ οὐδεὶς θέλει οὐδὲ τῆς ἀνάγκης καλούσης εὐλύτως ὑπακοῦσαι αὐτῇ, ἀλλὰ κλάοντες καὶ στένοντες πάσχομεν ἃ πάσχομεν καὶ περιστάσεις αὐτὰ καλοῦντες.

[17] ποίας περιστάσεις, ἄνθρωπε; εἰ περιστάσεις λέγεις τὰ περιεστηκότα, πάντα περιστάσεις εἰσίν· εἰ δʼ ὡς δύσκολα καλεῖς, ποίαν δυσκολίαν ἔχει τὸ γενόμενον φθαρῆναι;

[18] τὸ δὲ φθεῖρον ἢ μάχαιρά ἐστιν ἢ τροχὸς ἢ θάλασσα ἢ κεραμὶς ἢ τύραννος. τί σοι μέλει, ποίᾳ ὁδῷ καταβῇς εἰς Ἅιδου;

[19] ἴσαι πᾶσαί εἰσιν. εἰ δὲ θέλεις ἀκοῦσαι τἀληθῆ, συντομωτέρα ἣν πέμπει ὁ τύραννος. οὐδέποτʼ οὐδεὶς τύραννος ἓξ μησίν τινα ἔσφαξεν, πυρετὸς δὲ καὶ ἐνιαυτῷ πολλάκις. ψόφος ἐστὶ πάντα ταῦτα καὶ κόμπος κενῶν ὀνομάτων.

[20] τῇ κεφαλῇ κινδυνεύω ἐπὶ Καίσαρος. ἐγὼ δʼ οὐ κινδυνεύω, ὃς οἰκῶ ἐν Νικοπόλει, ὅπου σεισμοὶ τοσοῦτοι; σὺ δʼ αὐτὸς ὅταν διαπλέῃς τὸν Ἀδρίαν, τί κινδυνεύεις; οὐ τῇ κεφαλῇ;

[21] ἀλλὰ καὶ τῇ ὑπολήψει κινδυνεύω. τῇ σῇ; πῶς; τίς γάρ σε ἀναγκάσαι δύναται ὑπολαβεῖν τι ὧν οὐ θέλεις; ἀλλὰ τῇ ἀλλοτρίᾳ; καὶ ποῖός ἐστι κίνδυνος σὸς ἄλλους τὰ ψεύδη ὑπολαβεῖν;

[22] ἀλλʼ ἐξορισθῆναι κινδυνεύω. τί ἐστιν ἐξορισθῆναι; ἀλλαχοῦ εἶναι ἢ ἐν Ῥώμῃ; ναί. τί οὖν; ἂν εἰς Γύαρα πεμφθῶ; ἄν σοι ποιῇ, ἀπελεύσῃ· εἰ δὲ μή, ἔχεις ποῦ ἀντὶ Γυάρων ἀπέλθῃς, ὅπου κἀκεῖνος ἐλεύσεται, ἄν τε θέλῃ ἄν τε μή, ὁ πέμπων σε εἰς Γύαρα.

[23] τί λοιπὸν ὡς ἐπὶ μεγάλα ἀνέρχῃ; μικρότερά ἐστι τῆς παρασκευῆς, ἵνʼ εἴπῃ νέος εὐφυὴς ὅτι οὐκ ἦν τοσούτου τοσούτων μὲν ἀκηκοέναι, τοσαῦτα δὲ γεγραφέναι, τοσούτῳ δὲ χρόνῳ παρακεκαθικέναι γεροντίῳ οὐ πολλοῦ ἀξίῳ.

[24] μόνον ἐκείνης τῆς διαιρέσεως μέμνησο, καθʼ ἣν διορίζεται τὰ σὰ καὶ οὐ τὰ σά. μή ποτʼ ἀντιποιήσῃ τινὸς τῶν ἀλλοτρίων.

[25] βῆμα καὶ φυλακὴ τόπος ἐστὶν ἑκάτερον, ὁ μὲν ὑψηλός, ὁ δὲ ταπεινός· ἡ προαίρεσις δʼ ἴση, ἂν ἴσην αὐτὴν ἐν ἑκατέρῳ φυλάξαι θέλῃς, δύναται φυλαχθῆναι.

[26] καὶ τότʼ ἐσόμεθα ζηλωταὶ Σωκράτους, ὅταν ἐν φυλακῇ δυνώμεθα παιᾶνας γράφειν.

[27] μέχρι δὲ νῦν ὡς ἔχομεν, ὅρα εἰ ἠνεσχόμεθʼ ἂν ἐν τῇ φυλακῇ ἄλλου τινὸς ἡμῖν λέγοντος θέλεις ἀναγνῶ σοι παιᾶνας; τί μοι πράγματα παρέχεις; οὐκ οἶδας τὰ ἔχοντά με κακά; ἐν τούτοις γάρ μοι ἔστιν — ἐν τίσιν οὖν; ἀποθνῄσκειν μέλλω. ἄνθρωποι δʼ ἄλλοι ἀθάνατοι ἔσονται;

πῶς μαντευτέον.

[1] διὰ τὸ ἀκαίρως μαντεύεσθαι πολλοὶ καθήκοντα πολλὰ παραλείπομεν.

[2] τί γὰρ ὁ μάντις δύναται πλέον ἰδεῖν θανάτου ἢ κινδύνου ἢ νόσου ἢ ὅλως τῶν τοιούτων;

[3] ἂν οὖν δέῃ κινδυνεῦσαι ὑπὲρ τοῦ φίλου, ἂν δὲ καὶ ἀποθανεῖν ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ καθήκῃ, ποῦ μοι καιρὸς ἔτι μαντεύεσθαι; οὐκ ἔχω τὸν μάντιν ἔσω τὸν εἰρηκότα μοι τὴν οὐσίαν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ καὶ τοῦ κακοῦ, τὸν ἐξηγημένον τὰ σημεῖα ἀμφοτέρων;

[4] τί οὖν ἔτι χρείαν ἔχω τῶν σπλάγχνων ἢ τῶν οἰωνῶν; ἀλλʼ ἀνέχομαι λέγοντος ἐκείνου συμφέρει σοι; τί γάρ ἐστι συμφέρον οἶδεν;

[5] τί ἐστιν ἀγαθὸν οἶδεν; μεμάθηκεν ὥσπερ τὰ σημεῖα τῶν σπλάγχνων οὕτως σημεῖα τίνα ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν; εἰ γὰρ τούτων οἶδεν σημεῖα, καὶ καλῶν καὶ αἰσχρῶν οἶδεν καὶ δικαίων καὶ ἀδίκων.

[6] ἄνθρωπε, σύ μοι λέγε τί σημαίνεται, ζωὴ ἢ θάνατος, πενία ἢ πλοῦτος· πότερον δὲ συμφέρει ταῦτα ἢ ἀσύμφορά ἐστιν, σοῦ μέλλω πυνθάνεσθαι;

[7] διὰ τί ἐν γραμματικοῖς οὐ λέγεις; ἐνθάδʼ οὖν, ὅπου πάντες ἄνθρωποι πλανώμεθα καὶ πρὸς ἀλλήλους μαχόμεθα;

[8] διὰ τοῦτο ἡ γυνὴ καλῶς εἶπεν ἡ πέμψαι θέλουσα τῇ Γρατίλλῃ ἐξωρισμένῃ τὸ πλοῖον τῶν ἐπιμηνίων κατὰ τὸν εἰπόντα ὅτι ἀφαιρήσεται αὐτὰ Δομιτιανὸς μᾶλλον θέλω, φησίν, ἵνʼ ἐκεῖνος αὐτὰ ἀφέληται ἢ ἵνʼ ἐγὼ μὴ πέμψω.

[9] τί οὖν ἡμᾶς ἐπὶ τὸ οὕτω συνεχῶς μαντεύεσθαι ἄγει; ἡ δειλία, τὸ φοβεῖσθαι τὰς ἐκβάσεις. διὰ τοῦτο κολακεύομεν τοὺς μάντεις· κληρονομήσω, κύριε, τὸν πατέρα; ἴδωμεν· ἐπεκθυσώμεθα. ναί, κύριε, ὡς ἡ τύχη θέλει. εἶτʼ ἂν εἴπῃ κληρονομήσεις, ὡς παρʼ αὐτοῦ τὴν κληρονομίαν εἰληφότες εὐχαριστοῦμεν αὐτῷ. διὰ τοῦτο κἀκεῖνοι λοιπὸν ἐμπαίζουσιν ἡμῖν.

[10] τί οὖν; δεῖ δίχα ὀρέξεως ἔρχεσθαι καὶ ἐκκλίσεως, ὡς ὁ ὁδοιπόρος πυνθάνεται παρὰ τοῦ ἀπαντήσαντος, ποτέρα ν τῶν ὁδῶν φέρει, οὐκ ἔχων ὄρεξιν πρὸς τὸ τὴν δεξιὰν μᾶλλον φέρειν ἢ τὴν ἀριστεράν· οὐ γὰρ τούτων τινὰ ἀπελθεῖν θέλει, ἀλλὰ τὴν φέρουσαν.

[11] οὕτως ἔδει καὶ ἐπὶ τὸν θεὸν ἔρχεσθαι ὡς ὁδηγόν, ὡς τοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς χρώμεθα, οὐ παρακαλοῦντες αὐτοὺς ἵνα τὰ τοιαῦτα μᾶλλον ἡμῖν δεικνύωσιν, ἀλλʼ οἷα ἐνδείκνυνται τούτων τὰς φαντασίας δεχόμενοι.

[12] νῦν δὲ τρέμοντες τὸ ὀρνιθάριον κρατοῦμεν καὶ τὸν θεὸν ἐπικαλούμενοι δεόμεθα αὐτοῦ·

[13] κύριε, ἐλέησον· ἐπίτρεψόν μοι ἐξελθεῖν. ἀνδράποδον, ἄλλο γάρ τι θέλεις ἢ τὸ ἄμεινον; ἄλλο οὖν τι ἄμεινον ἢ τὸ τῷ θεῷ δοκοῦν;

[14] τί τὸ ὅσον ἐπὶ σοὶ διαφθείρεις τὸν κριτήν, παράγεις τὸν σύμβουλον;

τίς οὐσία τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ.

[1] ὁ θεὸς ὠφέλιμος· ἀλλὰ καὶ τἀγαθὸν ὠφέλιμον. εἰκὸς οὖν, ὅπου ἡ οὐσία τοῦ θεοῦ, ἐκεῖ εἶναι καὶ τὴν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ.

[2] τίς οὖν οὐσία θεοῦ; σάρξ; μὴ γένοιτο. ἀγρός; μὴ γένοιτο. φήμη; μὴ γένοιτο. νοῦς, ἐπιστήμη, λόγος ὀρθός.

[3] ἐνταῦθα τοίνυν ἁπλῶς ζήτει τὴν οὐσίαν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ. ἐπεί τοι μή τι αὐτὴν ἐν φυτῷ ζητεῖς; οὔ. μή τι ἐν ἀλόγῳ; οὔ. ἐν λογικῷ οὖν ζητῶν τί ἔτι ἀλλαχοῦ ζητεῖς ἢ ἐν τῇ παραλλαγῇ τῇ πρὸς τὰ ἄλογα;

[4] τὰ φυτὰ οὐδὲ φαντασίαις χρηστικά ἐστιν· διὰ τοῦτο οὐ λέγεις ἐπʼ αὐτῶν τὸ ἀγαθόν. δεῖται οὖν τὸ ἀγαθὸν χρήσεως φαντασιῶν.

[5] ἆρά γε μόνης; εἰ γὰρ μόνης, λέγε καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἄλλοις ζῴοις τὰ ἀγαθὰ εἶναι καὶ εὐδαιμονίαν καὶ κακοδαιμονίαν.

[6] νῦν δʼ οὐ λέγεις καὶ καλῶς ποιεῖς· εἰ γὰρ καὶ τὰ μάλιστα χρῆσιν φαντασιῶν ἔχει, ἀλλὰ παρακολούθησίν γε τῇ χρήσει τῶν φαντασιῶν οὐκ ἔχει. καὶ εἰκότως. ὑπηρετικὰ γὰρ γέγονεν ἄλλοις, οὐκ αὐτὰ προηγούμενα.

[7] ὁ ὄνος ἐπεὶ γέγονεν μή τι προηγουμένως; οὔ· ἀλλʼ ὅτι νώτου χρείαν. εἴχομεν βαστάζειν τι δυναμένου. ἀλλὰ νὴ Δία καὶ περιπατοῦντος αὐτοῦ χρείαν εἴχομεν· διὰ τοῦτο προσείληφε καὶ τὸ χρῆσθαι φαντασίαις· ἄλλως γὰρ περιπατεῖν οὐκ ἐδύνατο.

[8] καὶ λοιπὸν αὐτοῦ που πέπαυται. εἰ δὲ καὶ αὐτός που προσειλήφει παρακολούθησιν τῇ χρήσει τῶν φαντασιῶν, καὶ δῆλον ὅτι κατὰ λόγον οὐκέτʼ ἂν ἡμῖν ὑπετέτακτο οὐδὲ τὰς χρείας ταύτας παρεῖχεν, ἀλλʼ ἦν ἂν ἴσος ἡμῖν καὶ ὅμοιος.

[9] οὐ θέλεις οὖν ἐκεῖ ζητεῖν τὴν οὐσίαν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ, οὗ μὴ παρόντος ἐπʼ οὐδενὸς τῶν ἄλλων θέλεις λέγειν τὸ ἀγαθόν;

[10] τί οὖν; οὐκ ἔστι θεῶν ἔργα κἀκεῖνα; ἔστιν, ἀλλʼ οὐ προηγούμενα οὐδὲ μέρη θεῶν.

[11] σὺ δὲ προηγούμενον εἶ, σὺ ἀπόσπασμα εἶ τοῦ θεοῦ· ἔχεις τι ἐν σεαυτῷ μέρος ἐκείνου. τί οὖν ἀγνοεῖς σου τὴν συγγένειαν; τί οὐκ οἶδας, πόθεν ἐλήλυθας;

[12] οὐ θέλεις μεμνῆσθαι, ὅταν ἐσθίῃς, τίς ὢν ἐσθίεις καὶ τίνα τρέφεις; ὅταν συνουσίᾳ χρῇ, τίς ὢν χρῇ; ὅταν ὁμιλίᾳ; ὅταν γυμνάζῃ, ὅταν διαλέγῃ, οὐκ οἶδας ὅτι θεὸν τρέφεις, θεὸν γυμνάζεις; θεὸν περιφέρεις, τάλας, καὶ ἀγνοεῖς.

[13] δοκεῖς με λέγειν ἀργυροῦν τινα ἢ χρυσοῦν ἔξωθεν; ἐν σαυτῷ φέρεις αὐτὸν καὶ μολύνων οὐκ αἰσθάνῃ ἀκαθάρτοις μὲν διανοήμασι, ῥυπαραῖς δὲ πράξεσι.

[14] καὶ ἀγάλματος μὲν τοῦ θεοῦ παρόντος οὐκ ἂν τολμήσαις τι τούτων ποιεῖν ὧν ποιεῖς. αὐτοῦ δὲ τοῦ θεοῦ παρόντος ἔσωθεν καὶ ἐφορῶντος πάντα καὶ ἐπακούοντος οὐκ αἰσχύνῃ ταῦτα ἐνθυμούμενος καὶ ποιῶν, ἀναίσθητε τῆς αὑτοῦ φύσεως καὶ θεοχόλωτε;

[15] λοιπὸν ἡμεῖς τί φοβούμεθα ἐκπέμποντες νέον ἐπί τινας πράξεις ἐκ τῆς σχολῆς, μὴ ἄλλως ποιήσῃ τι, μὴ ἄλλως φάγῃ, μὴ ἄλλως συνουσιάσῃ, μὴ ταπεινώσῃ αὐτὸν ῥάκη περιτεθέντα, μὴ ἐπάρῃ κομψὰ ἱμάτια;

[16] οὗτος οὐκ οἶδεν αὑτοῦ θεόν, οὗτος οὐκ οἶδεν, μετὰ τίνος ἀπέρχεται. ἀλλʼ ἀνεχόμεθα λέγοντος αὐτοῦ σὲ ἤθελον ἔχειν;

[17] ἐκεῖ τὸν θεὸν οὐκ ἔχεις; εἶτʼ ἄλλον τινὰ ζητεῖς ἐκεῖνον ἔχων;

[18] ἢ ἄλλα σοι ἐρεῖ ἐκεῖνος ἢ ταῦτα; ἀλλʼ εἰ μὲν τὸ ἄγαλμα ἦς τὸ Φειδίου, ἡ Ἀθηνᾶ ἢ ὁ Ζεύς, ἐμέμνησο ἂν καὶ σαυτοῦ καὶ τοῦ τεχνίτου καὶ εἴ τινα αἴσθησιν εἶχες, ἐπειρῶ ἂν μηδὲν ἂν ἀνάξιον ποιεῖν τοῦ κατασκευάσαντος μηδὲ σεαυτοῦ μηδʼ ἐν ἀπρεπεῖ σχήματι φαίνεσθαι τοῖς ὁρῶσι·

[19] νῦν δέ σε ὅτι ὁ Ζεὺς πεποίηκεν, διὰ τοῦτο ἀμελεῖς οἷόν τινα δείξεις σεαυτόν; καὶ τί ὁ τεχνίτης τῷ τεχνίτῃ ὅμοιος ἢ τὸ κατασκεύασμα τῷ κατασκευάσματι;

[20] καὶ ποῖον ἔργον τεχνίτου εὐθὺς ἔχει τὰς δυνάμεις ἐν ἑαυτῷ, ἃς ἐμφαίνει διὰ τῆς κατασκευῆς; οὐχὶ λίθος ἐστὶν ἢ χαλκὸς ἢ χρυσὸς ἢ ἐλέφας; καὶ ἡ Ἀθηνᾶ ἡ Φειδίου ἅπαξ ἐκτείνασα τὴν χεῖρα καὶ τὴν Νίκην ἐπʼ αὐτῆς δεξαμένη ἕστηκεν οὕτως ὅλῳ τῷ αἰῶνι, τὰ δὲ τοῦ θεοῦ κινούμενα, ἔμπνοα, χρηστικὰ φαντασιῶν, δοκιμαστικά.

[21] τούτου τοῦ δημιουργοῦ κατασκεύασμα ὢν καταισχύνεις αὐτό; τί δʼ; ὅτι οὐ μόνον σε κατεσκεύασεν, ἀλλὰ καὶ σοὶ μόνῳ ἐπίστευσεν καὶ παρακατέθετο,

[22] οὐδὲ τούτου μεμνήσῃ, ἀλλὰ καὶ καταισχυνεῖς τὴν ἐπιτροπήν; εἰ δέ σοι ὀρφανόν τινα ὁ θεὸς παρέθετο, οὕτως ἂν αὐτοῦ ἠμέλεις;

[23] παραδέδωκέ σοι σεαυτὸν καὶ λέγει οὐκ εἶχον ἄλλον πιστότερόν σου· τοῦτόν μοι φύλασσε τοιοῦτον οἷος πέφυκεν, αἰδήμονα, πιστόν, ὑψηλόν, ἀκατάπληκτον, ἀπαθῆ, ἀτάραχον. εἶτα σὺ οὐ φυλάσσεις;

[24] ἀλλʼ ἐροῦσιν· πόθεν ἡμῖν οὗτος ὀφρῦν ἐνήνοχεν καὶ σεμνοπροσωπεῖ; οὔπω κατʼ ἀξίαν. ἔτι γὰρ οὐ θαρρῶ οἷς ἔμαθον καὶ συγκατεθέμην· ἔτι τὴν ἀσθένειαν τὴν ἐμαυτοῦ φοβοῦμαι.

[25] ἐπεί τοι ἄφετέ με θαρρῆσαι καὶ τότε ὄψεσθε βλέμμα οἷον δεῖ καὶ σχῆμα οἷον δεῖ, τότε ὑμῖν δείξω τὸ ἄγαλμα, ὅταν τελειωθῇ, ὅταν στιλπνωθῇ.

[26] τί δοκεῖτε; ὀφρῦν; μὴ γένοιτο. μὴ γὰρ ὁ Ζεὺς ὁ ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ ὀφρῦν ἀνέσπακεν; ἀλλὰ πέπηγεν αὐτοῦ τὸ βλέμμα, οἷον δεῖ εἶναι τοῦ ἐροῦντος

οὐ γὰρ ἐμὸν παλινάγρετον οὐδʼ ἀπατηλόν.

[27] τοιοῦτον ὑμῖν δείξω ἐμαυτόν, πιστόν, αἰδήμονα, γενναῖον, ἀτάραχον.

[28] μή τι οὖν ἀθάνατον ἀγήρων, μή τι ἄνοσον; ἀλλʼ ἀποθνῄσκοντα θείως, νοσοῦντα θείως. ταῦτα ἔχω, ταῦτα δύναμαι· τὰ δʼ ἄλλα οὔτʼ ἔχω οὔτε δύναμαι.

[29] δείξω ὑμῖν νεῦρα φιλοσόφου. ποῖα νεῦρα; ὄρεξιν ἀναπότευκτον, ἔκκλισιν ἀπερίπτωτον, ὁρμὴν καθήκουσαν, πρόθεσιν ἐπιμελῆ, συγκατάθεσιν ἀπρόπτωτον. ταῦτα ὄψεσθε.

ὅτι οὐ δυνάμενοι τὴν ἀνθρώπου ἐπαγγελίαν πληρῶσαι τὴν φιλοσόφου προσλαμβάνομεν.

[1] οὐκ ἔστι τὸ τυχὸν αὐτὸ μόνον ἀνθρώπου ἐπαγγελίαν πληρῶσαι.

[2] τί γάρ ἐστιν ἄνθρωπος; — ζῷον, φησί, λογικὸν θνητόν. — εὐθὺς ἐν τῷ λογικῷ τίνων χωριζόμεθα; — τῶν θηρίων. — καὶ τίνων ἄλλων;

[3] — τῶν προβάτων καὶ τῶν ὁμοίων. — ὅρα οὖν μή τί πως ὡς θηρίον ποιήσῃς· εἰ δὲ μή, ἀπώλεσας τὸν ἄνθρωπον, οὐκ ἐπλήρωσας τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν. ὅρα μή τι ὡς πρόβατον· εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ οὕτως ἀπώλετο ὁ ἄνθρωπος.

[4] τίνα οὖν ποιοῦμεν ὡς πρόβατα; ὅταν τῆς γαστρὸς ἕνεκα, ὅταν τῶν αἰδοίων, ὅταν εἰκῇ, ὅταν ῥυπαρῶς, ὅταν ἀνεπιστρέπτως, ποῦ ἀπεκλίναμεν; ἐπὶ τὰ πρόβατα.

[5] τί ἀπωλέσαμεν; τὸ λογικόν. ὅταν μαχίμως καὶ βλαβερῶς καὶ θυμικῶς καὶ ὠστικῶς, ποῦ ἀπεκλίναμεν;

[6] ἐπὶ τὰ θηρία. λοιπὸν οἱ μὲν ἡμῶν μεγάλα θηρία εἰσίν, οἱ δὲ θηρίδια κακοήθη καὶ μικρά, ἀφʼ ὧν ἔστιν εἰπεῖν λέων με καὶ φαγέτω.

[7] διὰ πάντων δὲ τούτων ἀπόλλυται ἡ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐπαγγελία.

[8] πότε γὰρ σῴζεται συμπεπλεγμένον; ὅταν τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν πληρώσῃ, ὥστε σωτηρία συμπεπλεγμένου ἐστὶ τὸ ἐξ ἀληθῶν συμπεπλέχθαι. πότε διεζευγμένον; ὅταν τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν πληρώσῃ. πότε αὐλοί, πότε λύρα, πότε ἵππος, πότε κύων;

[9] τί οὖν θαυμαστόν, εἰ καὶ ἄνθρωπος ὡσαύτως μὲν σῴζεται, ὡσαύτως δʼ ἀπόλλυται;

[10] αὔξει δʼ ἕκαστον καὶ σῴζει τὰ κατάλληλα ἔργα· τὸν τέκτονα τὰ τεκτονικά, τὸν γραμματικὸν τὰ γραμματικά. ἂν δʼ ἐθίσῃ γράφειν ἀγραμμάτως, ἀνάγκη καταφθείρεσθαι καὶ ἀπόλλυσθαι τὴν τέχνην.

[11] οὕτως τὸν μὲν αἰδήμονα σῴζει τὰ αἰδήμονα ἔργα, ἀπολλύει δὲ τὰ ἀναιδῆ· τὸν δὲ πιστὸν τὰ πιστὰ καὶ τὰ ἐναντία ἀπολλύει.

[12] καὶ τοὺς ἐναντίους πάλιν ἐπαύξει τὰ ἐναντία· τὸν ἀναίσχυντον ἀναισχυντία, τὸν ἄπιστον ἀπιστία, τὸν λοίδορον λοιδορία, τὸν ὀργίλον ὀργή, τὸν φιλάργυρον αἱ ἀκατάλληλοι λήψεις καὶ δόσεις.

[13] διὰ τοῦτο παραγγέλλουσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι μὴ ἀρκεῖσθαι μόνῳ τῷ μαθεῖν, ἀλλὰ καὶ μελέτην προσλαμβάνειν, εἶτα ἄσκησιν.

[14] πολλῷ γὰρ χρόνῳ τὰ ἐναντία ποιεῖν εἰθίσμεθα καὶ τὰς ὑπολήψεις τὰς ἐναντίας ταῖς ὀρθαῖς χρηστικὰς ἔχομεν. ἂν οὖν μὴ καὶ τὰς ὀρθὰς χρηστικὰς ποιήσωμεν, οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ ἐξηγηταὶ ἐσόμεθα ἀλλοτρίων δογμάτων.

[15] ἄρτι γὰρ τίς ἡμῶν οὐ δύναται τεχνολογῆσαι περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν; ὅτι τῶν ὄντων τὰ μὲν ἀγαθά, τὰ δὲ κακά, τὰ δʼ ἀδιάφορα· ἀγαθὰ μὲν οὖν ἀρεταὶ καὶ τὰ μετέχοντα τῶν ἀρετῶν· κακὰ τὰ δʼ ἐναντία· ἀδιάφορα δὲ πλοῦτος, ὑγεία, δόξα.

[16] εἶτʼ ἂν μεταξὺ λεγόντων ἡμῶν ψόφος μείζων γένηται ἢ τῶν παρόντων τις καταγελάσῃ ἡμῶν, ἐξεπλάγημεν.

[17] ποῦ ἐστιν, φιλόσοφε, ἐκεῖνα ἃ ἔλεγες; πόθεν αὐτὰ προφερόμενος ἔλεγες; ἀπὸ τῶν χειλῶν αὐτόθεν. τί οὖν ἀλλότρια βοηθήματα μολύνεις; τί κυβεύεις περὶ τὰ μέγιστα;

[18] ἄλλο γάρ ἐστιν ὡς εἰς ταμιεῖον ἀποθέσθαι ἄρτους καὶ οἶνον, ἄλλο ἐστὶ φαγεῖν. τὸ βρωθὲν ἐπέφθη, ἀνεδόθη, νεῦρα ἐγένετο, σάρκες, ὀστέα, αἷμα, εὔχροια, εὔπνοια. τὰ ἀποκείμενα ὅταν μὲν θελήσῃς ἐκ προχείρου λαβὼν δεῖξαι δύνασαι, ἀπʼ αὐτῶν δέ σοι ὄφελος οὐδὲν εἰ μὴ μέχρι τοῦ δοκεῖν ὅτι ἔχεις. τί γὰρ διαφέρει ταῦτα ἐξηγεῖσθαι ἢ τὰ τῶν ἑτεροδόξων;

[19] τεχνολόγει νῦν καθίσας τὰ Ἐπικούρου καὶ τάχα ἐκείνου χρηστικώτερον τεχνολογήσεις. τί οὖν Στωικὸν λέγεις σεαυτόν, τί ἐξαπατᾷς τοὺς πολλούς, τί ὑποκρίνῃ Ἰουδαῖον ὢν Ἕλλην;

[20] οὐχ ὁρᾷς, πῶς ἕκαστος λέγεται Ἰουδαῖος, πῶς Σύρος, πῶς Αἰγύπτιος; καὶ ὅταν τινὰ ἐπαμφοτερίζοντα ἴδωμεν, εἰώθαμεν λέγειν οὐκ ἔστιν Ἰουδαῖος, ἀλλʼ ὑποκρίνεται. ὅταν δʼ ἀναλάβῃ τὸ πάθος τὸ τοῦ βεβαμμένου καὶ ᾑρημένου, τότε καὶ ἔστι τῷ ὄντι καὶ καλεῖται Ἰουδαῖος.

[21] οὕτως καὶ ἡμεῖς παραβαπτισταί, λόγῳ μὲν Ἰουδαῖοι, ἔργῳ δʼ ἄλλο τι, ἀσυμπαθεῖς πρὸς τὸν λόγον, μακρὰν ἀπὸ τοῦ χρῆσθαι τούτοις ἃ λέγομεν, ἐφʼ οἷς ὡς εἰδότες αὐτὰ ἐπαιρόμεθα.

[22] οὕτως οὐδὲ τὴν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐπαγγελίαν πληρῶσαι δυνάμενοι προσλαμβάνομεν τὴν τοῦ φιλοσόφου, τηλικοῦτο φορτίον οἷον εἴ τις δέκα λίτρας ἆραι μὴ δυνάμενος τὸν τοῦ Αἴαντος λίθον βαστάζειν ἤθελεν.

πῶς ἀπὸ τῶν ὀνομάτων τὰ καθήκοντα ἔστιν εὑρίσκειν.

[1] σκέψαι τίς εἶ. τὸ πρῶτον ἄνθρωπος, τοῦτο δʼ ἔστιν οὐδὲν ἔχων κυριώτερον προαιρέσεως, ἀλλὰ ταύτῃ τὰ ἄλλα ὑποτεταγμένα, αὐτὴν δʼ ἀδούλευτον καὶ ἀνυπότακτον.

[2] σκόπει οὖν, τίνων κεχώρισαι κατὰ λόγον. κεχώρισαι θηρίων, κεχώρισαι προβάτων.

[3] ἐπὶ τούτοις πολίτης εἶ τοῦ κόσμου καὶ μέρος αὐτοῦ, οὐχ ἓν τῶν ὑπηρετικῶν, ἀλλὰ τῶν προηγουμένων· παρακολουθητικὸς γὰρ εἶ τῇ θείᾳ διοικήσει καὶ τοῦ ἑξῆς ἐπιλογιστικός.

[4] τίς οὖν ἐπαγγελία πολίτου; μηδὲν ἔχειν ἰδίᾳ συμφέρον, περὶ μηδενὸς βουλεύεσθαι ὡς ἀπόλυτον, ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ ἄν, εἰ ἡ χεὶρ ἢ ὁ ποὺς λογισμὸν εἶχον καὶ παρηκολούθουν τῇ φυσικῇ κατασκευῇ, οὐδέποτʼ ἂν ἄλλως ὥρμησαν ἢ ὠρέχθησαν ἢ ἐπανενεγκόντες ἐπὶ τὸ ὅλον.

[5] διὰ τοῦτο καλῶς λέγουσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι ὅτι εἰ προῄδει ὁ καλὸς καὶ ἀγαθὸς τὰ ἐσόμενα, συνήργει ἂν καὶ τῷ νοσεῖν καὶ τῷ ἀποθνῄσκειν καὶ τῷ πηροῦσθαι, αἰσθανόμενός γε, ὅτι ἀπὸ τῆς τῶν ὅλων διατάξεως τοῦτο ἀπονέμεται, κυριώτερον δὲ τὸ ὅλον τοῦ μέρους καὶ ἡ πόλις τοῦ πολίτου.

[6] νῦν δʼ ὅτι οὐ προγιγνώσκομεν, καθήκει τῶν πρὸς ἐκλογὴν εὐφυεστέρων ἔχεσθαι, ὅτι καὶ πρὸς τοῦτο γεγόναμεν.

[7] μετὰ τοῦτο μέμνησο, ὅτι υ ἱὸς εἶ. τίς τούτου τοῦ προσώπου ἐπαγγελία; πάντα τὰ αὑτοῦ ἡγεῖσθαι τοῦ πατρός, πάντα ὑπακούειν, μηδέποτε ψέξαι πρός τινα μηδὲ βλαβερόν τι αὐτῷ εἰπεῖν ἢ πρᾶξαι, ἐξίστασθαι ἐν πᾶσιν καὶ παραχωρεῖν συνεργοῦντα κατὰ δύναμιν. μετὰ τοῦτο ἴσθι ὅτι καὶ ἀδελφὸς εἶ.

[8] καὶ πρὸς τοῦτο δὲ τὸ πρόσωπον ὀφείλεται παραχώρησις, εὐπείθεια, εὐφημία, μηδέποτʼ ἀντιποιήσασθαί τινος πρὸς ἑαὐτὸν τῶν ἀπροαιρέτων, ἀλλʼ ἡδέως ἐκεῖνα προίεσθαι, ἵνʼ ἐν τοῖς προαιρετικοῖς πλέον ἔχῃς.

[9] ὅρα γὰρ οἷόν ἐστιν ἀντὶ θίδρακος, ἂν οὕτως τύχῃ, καὶ καθέδρας αὐτὸν εὐγνωμοσύνην κτήσασθαι, ὅση ἡ πλεονεξία.

[10] μετὰ ταῦτα εἰ βουλευτὴς πόλεώς τινος, ὅτι βουλευτής· εἰ νέος, ὅτι νέος· εἰ πρεσβύτης, ὅτι πρεσβύτης· εἰ πατήρ, ὅτι πατήρ.

[11] ἀεὶ γὰρ ἕκαστον τῶν τοιούτων ὀνομάτων εἰς ἐπιλογισμὸν ἐρχόμενον ὑπογράφει τὰ οἰκεῖα ἔργα.

[12] ἐὰν δʼ ἀπελθὼν ψέγῃς σου τὸν ἀδελφόν, λέγω σοι ἐπελάθου, τίς εἶ καὶ τί σοι ὄνομα.

[13] εἶτα εἰ μὲν χαλκεὺς ὢν ἐχρῶ τῇ σφύρᾳ ἄλλως, ἐπιλελησμένος ἂν ἦς τοῦ χαλκέως· εἰ δὲ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ ἐπελάθου καὶ ἀντὶ ἀδελφοῦ ἐχθρὸς ἐγένου, οὐδὲν ἀντʼ οὐδενὸς ἠλλάχθαι φανεῖ σεαυτῷ;

[14] εἰ δʼ ἀντὶ ἀνθρώπου, ἡμέρου ζῴου καὶ κοινωνικοῦ, θηρίον γέγονας βλαβερόν, ἐπίβουλον, δηκτικόν, οὐδὲν ἀπολώλεκας; ἀλλὰ δεῖ σε κέρμα ἀπολέσαι, ἵνα ζημιωθῆς, ἄλλου δʼ οὐδενὸς ἀπώλεια ζημιοῖ τὸν ἄνθρωπον;

[15] εἶτα γραμματικὴν μὲν ἀποβαλὼν ἢ μουσικὴν ζημίαν ἂν ἡγοῦ τὴν ἀπώλειαν αὐτῆς· εἰ δʼ αἰδῶ καὶ καταστολὴν καὶ ἡμερότητα ἀποβαλεῖς, οὐδὲν ἡγῇ τὸ πρᾶγμα;

[16] καίτοι ἐκεῖνα μὲν παρʼ ἔξωθέν τινα καὶ ἀπροαίρετον αἰτίαν ἀπόλλυται, ταῦτα δὲ παρʼ ἡμᾶς· καὶ ἐκεῖνα μὲν οὔτʼ ἔχειν καλόν ἐστιν οὔτʼ ἀπολλύειν αἰσχρόν ἐστιν, ταῦτα δὲ καὶ μὴ ἔχειν καὶ ἀπολλύειν καὶ αἰσχρόν ἐστι καὶ ἐπονείδιστον καὶ ἀτύχημα. τί ἀπολλύει ὁ τὰ τοῦ κιναίδου πάσχων;

[17] τὸν ἄνδρα. ὁ δὲ διατιθείς; πολλὰ μὲν καὶ ἄλλα καὶ αὐτὸς δʼ οὐδὲν ἧττον τὸν ἄνδρα. τί ἀπολλύει ὁ μοιχεύων;

[18] τὸν αἰδήμονα, τὸν ἐγκρατῆ, τὸν κόσμιον, τὸν πολίτην, τὸν γείτονα. τί ἀπολλύει ὁ ὀργιζόμενος; ἄλλο τι. ὁ φοβούμενος;

[19] ἄλλο τι. οὐδεὶς δίχα ἀπωλείας καὶ ζημίας κακός ἐστιν. λοιπὸν εἰ τὴν ζημίαν ζητεῖς ἐν κέρματι, πάντες οὗτοι ἀβλαβεῖς, ἀζήμιοι, ἂν οὕτως τύχῃ, καὶ ὠφελούμενοι καὶ κερδαίνοντες, ὅταν διά τινος τούτων τῶν ἔργων κέρμα αὐτοῖς προσγένηται.

[20] ὅρα δʼ εἰ ἐπὶ κερμάτιον πάντα ἀνάγεις, ὅτι οὐδʼ ὁ τὴν ῥῖνά σοι ἀπολλύων ἔσται βεβλαμμένος. — ναί, φησίν, κεκολόβωται γὰρ τὸ σῶμα.

[21] — ἄγε, ὁ δὲ τὴν ὀσφρασίαν αὐτὴν ἀπολωλεκὼς οὐδὲν ἀπολλύει; ψυχῆς οὖν δύναμις οὐκ ἔστιν οὐδεμία, ἣν ὁ μὲν κτησάμενος ὠφελεῖται, ὁ δʼ ἀποβαλὼν ζημιοῦται;

[22] — ποίαν καὶ λέγεις; — οὐδὲν ἔχομεν αἰδῆμον φύσει; — ἔχομεν. — ὁ τοῦτο ἀπολλύων οὐ ζημιοῦται, οὐδενὸς στερίσκεται, οὐδὲν ἀποβάλλει τῶν πρὸς αὑτόν;

[23] οὐκ ἔχομεν φύσει τι πιστόν, φύσει στερκτικόν, φύσει ὠφελητικόν, ἀλλήλων φύσει ἀνεκτικόν; ὅστις οὖν εἰς ταῦτα περιορᾷ ζημιούμενον ἑαυτόν, οὗτος ᾖ ἀβλαβὴς καὶ ἀζήμιος;

[24] τί οὖν; μὴ βλάψω τὸν βλάψαντα; — πρῶτον μὲν ἰδού, τί ἐστι βλάβη καὶ μνήσθητι ὧν ἤκουσας παρὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων.

[25] εἰ γὰρ τὸ ἀγαθὸν ἐν προαιρέσει καὶ τὸ κακὸν ὡσαύτως ἐν προαιρέσει, βλέπε μὴ τοιοῦτʼ ἐστιν ὃ λέγεις τί οὖν;

[26] ἐπειδὴ ἐκεῖνος ἑαυτὸν ἔβλαψεν πρὸς ἐμέ τι ἄδικον ποιήσας, ἐγὼ ἐμαυτὸν μὴ βλάψω πρὸς ἐκεῖνον ἄδικόν τι ποιήσας;

[27] τί οὖν οὐ τοιοῦτόν τι φανταζόμεθα, ἀλλʼ ὅπου τι σωματικὸν ἐλάττωμα ἢ εἰς κτῆσιν, ἐκεῖ ἡ βλάβη, ὅπου εἰς τὴν προαίρεσιν, οὐδεμία βλάβη;

[28] οὔτε γὰρ τὴν κεφαλὴν ἀλγεῖ ὁ ἐξαπατηθεὶς ἢ ἀδικήσας οὔτε τὸν ὀφθαλμὸν οὔτε τὸ ἰσχίον οὔτε τὸν ἀγρὸν ἀπολλύει.

[29] ἡμεῖς δʼ ἄλλο οὐδὲν ἐθέλομεν ἢ ταῦτα· τὴν προαίρεσιν δὲ π ρότερον αἰδήμονα καὶ πιστὴν ἕξομεν ἢ ἀναίσχυντον καὶ ἄπιστον, οὐδʼ ἐγγὺς διαφερόμεθα πλὴν μόνον ἐν τῇ σχολῇ μέχρι τῶν λογαρίων.

[30] τοιγαροῦν μέχρι τῶν λογαρίων προκόπτομεν, ἔξω δʼ αὐτῶν οὐδὲ τὸ ἐλάχιστον.

τίς ἀρχὴ φιλοσοφίας.

[1] ἀρχὴ φιλοσοφίας παρά γε τοῖς ὡς δεῖ καὶ κατὰ θύραν ἁπτομένοις αὐτῆς συναίσθησις τῆς αὑτοῦ ἀσθενείας καὶ ἀδυναμίας περὶ τὰ ἀναγκαῖα.

[2] ὀρθογωνίου μὲν γὰρ τριγώνου ἢ διέσεως ἡμιτονίου οὐδεμίαν φύσει ἔννοιαν ἥκομεν ἔχοντες, ἀλλʼ ἔκ τινος τεχνικῆς παραλήψεως διδασκόμεθα ἕκαστον αὐτῶν καὶ διὰ τοῦτο οἱ μὴ εἰδότες αὐτὰ οὐδʼ οἴονται εἰδέναι.

[3] ἀγαθοῦ δὲ καὶ κακοῦ καὶ καλοῦ καὶ αἰσχροῦ καὶ πρέποντος καὶ ἀπρεποῦς καὶ εὐδαιμονίας καὶ προσήκοντος καὶ ἐπιβάλλοντος καὶ ὅ τι δεῖ ποιῆσαι καὶ ὅ τι οὐ δεῖ ποιῆσαι τίς οὐκ ἔχων ἔμφυτον ἔννοιαν ἐλήλυθεν;

[4] διὰ τοῦτο πάντες χρώμεθα τοῖς ὀνόμασιν καὶ ἐφαρμόζειν πειρώμεθα τὰς προλήψεις ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρους οὐσίαις.

[5] καλῶς ἐποίησεν, δεόντως, οὐ δεόντως· ἠτύχησεν, εὐτύχησεν· ἄδικός ἐστιν, δίκαιός ἐστιν. τίς ἡμῶν φείδεται τούτων τῶν ὀνομάτων; τίς ἡμῶν ἀναβάλλεται τὴν χρῆσιν αὐτῶν μέχρι μάθῃ καθάπερ τῶν περὶ τὰς γραμμὰς ἢ τοὺς φθόγγους οἱ οὐκ εἰδότες;

[6] τούτου δʼ αἴτιον τὸ ἥκειν ἤδη τινὰ ὑπὸ τῆς φύσεως κατὰ τὸν τόπον ὥσπερ δεδιδαγμένους, ἀφʼ ὧν ὁρμώμενοι καὶ τὴν οἴησιν προσειλήφαμεν.

[7] — διὰ γάρ, φησίν, οὐκ οἶδα ἐγὼ τὸ καλὸν καὶ τὸ αἰσχρόν; οὐκ ἔχω ἔννοιαν αὐτοῦ; — ἔχεις. — οὐκ ἐφαρμόζω τοῖς ἐπὶ μέρους; — ἐφαρμόζεις. — οὐ καλῶς οὖν ἐφαρμόζω;

[8] — ἐνταῦθά ἐστι τὸ ζήτημα πᾶν καὶ οἴησις ἐνταῦθα προσγίνεται. ἀφʼ ὁμολογουμένων γὰρ ὁρμώμενοι τούτων ἐπὶ τὸ ἀμφισβητούμενον προάγουσιν ὑπὸ τῆς ἀκαταλλήλου ἐφαρμογῆς.

[9] ὡς εἴ γε καὶ τοῦτο ἔτι πρὸς ἐκείνοις ἐκέκτηντο, τί ἐκώλυεν αὐτοὺς εἶναι τελείους;

[10] νῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ δοκεῖς ὅτι καὶ καταλλήλως ἐφαρμόζεις τὰς προλήψεις τοῖς ἐπὶ μέρους, εἰπέ μοι, πόθεν τοῦτο λαμβάνεις; — ὅτι δοκεῖ μοι. — τουτὶ οὖν ᾧτινι οὐ δοκεῖ, καὶ οἴεται καὶ αὐτὸς ἐφαρμόζειν καλῶς· ἢ οὐκ οἴεται;

[11] — οἴεται. — δύνασθε οὖν περὶ ὧν τὰ μαχόμενα δοξάζετε ἀμφότεροι καταλλήλως ἐφαρμόζειν τὰς προλήψεις;

[12] — οὐ δυνάμεθα. — ἔχεις οὖν δεῖξαί τι ἡμῖν πρὸς τὸ αὐτὰς ἐφαρμόζειν ἄμεινον ἀνωτέρω τοῦ δοκεῖν σοι; ὁ δὲ μαινόμενος ἄλλα τινὰ ποιεῖ ἢ τὰ δοκοῦντά οἱ καλά; κἀκείνῳ οὖν ἀρκεῖ τοῦτο τὸ κριτήριον; — οὐκ ἀρκεῖ. — ἐλθὼν οὖν ἐπί τι ἀνωτέρω τοῦ δοκεῖν τί τοῦτό ἐστιν

[13] ἴδʼ ἀρχὴ φιλοσοφίας· αἴσθησις μάχης τῆς πρὸς ἀλλήλους τῶν ἀνθρώπων καὶ ζήτησις τοῦ παρʼ ὃ γίνεται ἡ μάχη καὶ κατάγνωσις καὶ ἀπιστία πρὸς τὸ ψιλῶς δοκοῦν, ἔρευνα δέ τις περὶ τὸ δοκοῦν εἰ ὀρθῶς δοκεῖ καὶ εὕρεσις κανόνος τινός, οἷον ἐπὶ βαρῶν τὸν ζυγὸν εὕρομεν, οἷον ἐπὶ εὐθέων καὶ στρεβλῶν τὴν στάθμην.

[14] — τοῦτʼ ἔστιν ἀρχὴ φιλοσοφίας; πάντα καλῶς ἔχει τὰ δοκοῦντα ἅπασι; — καὶ πῶς δυνατὸν τὰ μαχόμενα καλῶς ἔχειν; οὐκοῦν οὐ πάντα, ἀλλὰ τὰ ἡμῖν δοκοῦντα.

[15] τί μᾶλλον ἢ τὰ Σύροις, τί μᾶλλον ἢ τὰ Αἰγυπτίοις, τί μᾶλλον ἢ τὰ ἐμοὶ φαινόμενα ἢ τὰ τῷ δεῖνι; — οὐδὲν μᾶλλον. — οὐκ ἄρα ἀρκεῖ τὸ δοκοῦν ἑκάστῳ πρὸς τὸ εἶναι· οὐδὲ γὰρ ἐπὶ βαρῶν ἢ μέτρων ψιλῇ τῇ ἐμφάσει ἀρκούμεθα, ἀλλὰ κανόνα τινὰ ἐφʼ ἑκάστου εὕρομεν.

[16] ἐνταῦθʼ οὖν οὐδεὶς κανὼν ἀνωτέρω τοῦ δοκεῖν; καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε ἀτέκμαρτα εἶναι καὶ ἀνεύρετα τὰ ἀναγκαιότατα ἐν ἀνθρώποις; — ἔστιν οὖν.

[17] — καὶ διὰ τί οὐ ζητοῦμεν αὐτὸν καὶ ἀνευρίσκομεν καὶ ἀνευρόντες λοιπὸν ἀπαραβάτως χρώμεθα δίχα αὐτοῦ μηδὲ τὸν δάκτυλον ἐκτείνοντες;

[18] τοῦτο γάρ, οἶμαι, ἐστὶν ὃ εὑρεθὲν ἀπαλλάσσει μανίας τοὺς μόνῳ τῷ δοκεῖν μέτρῳ πάντων χρωμένους, ἵνα λοιπὸν ἀπό τινων γνωρίμων καὶ διευκρινημένων ὁρμώμενοι χρώμεθα ἐπὶ τῶν ἐπὶ μέρους διηρθρωμέναις ταῖς προλήψεσι.

[19] τίς ὑποπέπτωκεν οὐσία περὶ ἧς ζητοῦμεν;— ἡδονή.

[20] — ὕπαγε αὐτὴν τῷ κανόνι, βάλε εἰς τὸν ζυγόν. τὸ ἀγαθὸν δεῖ εἶναι τοιοῦτον, ἐφʼ ᾧ θαρρεῖν ἄξιον καὶ ᾧ πεποιθέναι; — δεῖ. — ἀβεβαίῳ οὖν τινι θαρρεῖν ἄξιον;

[21] — οὔ. — μή τι οὖν βέβαιον ἡ ἡδονή; — οὔ. — ἆρον οὖν καὶ βάλε ἔξω ἐκ τοῦ ζυγοῦ καὶ ἀπέλασον τῆς χώρας τῶν ἀγαθῶν μακράν.

[22] εἰ δʼ οὐκ ὀξυβλεπτεῖς καὶ ἕν σοι ζυγὸν οὐκ ἀρκεῖ, φέρε ἄλλο. ἐπὶ τῷ ἀγαθῷ ἄξιον ἐπαίρεσθαι; — ναί. — ἐφʼ ἡδονῇ οὖν παρούσῃ ἄξιον ἐπαίρεσθαι; βλέπε μὴ εἴπῃς ὅτι ἄξιον· εἰ δὲ μή, οὐκέτι σε οὐδὲ τοῦ ζυγοῦ ἄξιον ἡγήσομαι.

[23] οὕτως κρίνεται τὰ πράγματα καὶ ἵσταται τῶν κανόνων ἡτοιμασμένων·

[24] καὶ τὸ φιλοσοφεῖν τοῦτό ἐστιν, ἐπισκέπτεσθαι καὶ βεβαιοῦν τοὺς κανόνας,

[25] τὸ δʼ ἤδη χρῆσθαι τοῖς ἐγνωσμένοις τοῦτο τοῦ καλοῦ καὶ ἀγαθοῦ ἔργον ἐστίν.

περὶ τοῦ διαλέγεσθαι.

[1] ἃ μὲν δεῖ μαθόντα εἰδέναι χρῆσθαι λόγῳ, ἠκρίβωται ὑπὸ τῶν ἡμετέρων. περὶ δὲ τὴν χρῆσιν αὐτῶν τὴν προσήκουσαν τελέως ἀγύμναστοί ἐσμεν.

[2] δὸς γοῦν ᾧ θέλεις ἡμῶν ἰδιώτην τινὰ τὸν προσδιαλεγόμενον· καὶ οὐχ εὑρίσκει χρήσασθαι αὐτῷ, ἀλλὰ μικρὰ κινήσας τὸν ἄνθρωπον, ἂν παρὰ σκέλος ἀπαντᾷ ἐκεῖνος, οὐκέτι δύναται μεταχειρίσασθαι, ἀλλʼ ἢ λοιδορεῖ λοιπὸν ἢ καταγελᾷ καὶ λέγει ἰδιώτης ἐστίν· οὐκ ἔστιν αὐτῷ χρήσασθαι.

[3] ὁ δʼ ὁδηγός, ὅταν λάβῃ τινὰ πλανώμενον, ἤγαγεν ἐπὶ τὴν ὁδὸν τὴν δέουσαν, οὐχὶ καταγελάσας ἢ λοιδορησάμενος ἀπῆλθεν.

[4] καὶ σὺ δεῖξον αὐτῷ τὴν ἀλήθειαν καὶ ὄψει ὅτι ἀκολουθεῖ. μέχρι δʼ ἂν οὗ μὴ δεικνύῃς, μὴ ἐκείνου καταγέλα, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον αἰσθάνου τῆς ἀδυναμίας τῆς αὑτοῦ.

[5] πῶς οὖν ἐποίει Σωκράτης; αὐτὸν ἠνάγκαζεν τὸν προσδιαλεγόμενον αὐτῷ μαρτυρεῖν, ἄλλου δʼ οὐδενὸς ἐδεῖτο μάρτυρος. τοιγαροῦν ἐξῆν αὐτῷ λέγειν ὅτι τοὺς μὲν ἄλλους ἐῶ χαίρειν, ἀεὶ δὲ τῷ ἀντιλέγοντι ἀρκοῦμαι μάρτυρι· καὶ τοὺς μὲν ἄλλους οὐκ ἐπιψηφίζω, τὸν δὲ προσδιαλεγόμενον μόνον.

[6] οὕτω γὰρ ἐναργῆ ἐτίθει τὰ ἀπὸ τῶν ἐννοιῶν, ὥστε πάνθʼ ὁντιναοῦν συναισθανόμενον τῆς μάχης ἀναχωρεῖν ἀπʼ αὐτῆς.

[7] ἆρά γε ὁ φθονῶν χαίρει; — οὐδαμῶς, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον λυπεῖται. ἀπὸ τοῦ ἐναντίου ἐκίνησε τὸν πλησίον. τί δʼ; ἐπὶ κακοῖς δοκεῖ σοι εἶναι λύπη ὁ φθόνος; καὶ τί ὁ φθόνος ἐστὶ κακῶν;

[8] οὐκοῦν ἐκεῖνον ἐποίησεν εἰπεῖν ὅτι λύπη ἐστὶν ἐπʼ ἀγαθοῖς ὁ φθόνος. τί δέ; φθονοίη ἄν τις τοῖς οὐδὲν πρὸς αὐτόν;

[9] — οὐδαμῶς. καὶ οὕτως ἐκπεπληρωκὼς τὴν ἔννοιαν καὶ διηρθρωκὼς ἀπηλλάσσετο, οὐ λέγων ὅτι ὅρισαί μοι τὸν φθόνον, εἶτα ὁρισαμένου κακῶς ὡρίσω· οὐ γὰρ ἀντακολουθεῖ τῷ κεφαλαιώδει τὸ ὁρικόν·

[10] ῥήματα τεχνικὰ καὶ διὰ τοῦτο τοῖς ἰδιώταις φορτικὰ καὶ δυσπαρακολούθητα, ὧν ἡμεῖς ἀποστῆναι οὐ δυνάμεθα.

[11] ἐξ ὧν δʼ αὐτὸς ὁ ἰδιώτης ἐπακολουθῶν ταῖς αὑτοῦ φαντασίαις παραχωρῆσαι δύναιτʼ ἄν τι ἢ ἀθετῆσαι, οὐδαμῶς διὰ τούτων αὐτὸν κινῆσαι δυνάμεθα.

[12] καὶ λοιπὸν εἰκότως συναισθανόμενοι ταύτης ἡμῶν τῆς ἀδυναμίας ἀπεχόμεθα τοῦ πράγματος, ὅσοις γʼ ἐστί τι εὐλαβείας.

[13] οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ καὶ εἰκαῖοι συγκαθέντες εἴς τι τοιοῦτον φύρονται καὶ φύρουσι καὶ τὰ τελευταῖα λοιδορήσαντες καὶ λοιδορηθέντες ἀπέρχονται.

[14] τὸ πρῶτον δὲ τοῦτο καὶ μάλιστα ἴδιον Σωκράτους μηδέποτε παροξυνθῆναι ἐν λόγῳ, μηδέποτε λοίδορον προενέγκασθαι μηδέν, μηδέποθʼ ὑβριστικόν, ἀλλὰ τῶν λοιδορούντων ἀνέχεσθαι καὶ παύειν μάχην.

[15] εἰ θέλετε γνῶναι, πόσην ἐν τούτῳ δύναμιν εἶχεν, ἀνάγνωτε τὸ Ξενοφῶντος Συμπόσιον καὶ ὄψεσθε πόσας μάχας διαλέλυκεν.

[16] διὰ τοῦτο εἰκότως καὶ παρὰ τοῖς ποιηταῖς ἐν μεγίστῳ ἐπαίνῳ λέλεκται τὸ αἶψά τε καὶ μέγα νεῖκος ἐπισταμένως κατέπαυσεν.

[17] τί οὖν; οὐ λίαν ἐστὶ νῦν ἀσφαλὲς τὸ πρᾶγμα καὶ μάλιστα ἐν Ῥώμῃ. τὸν γὰρ ποιοῦντα αὐτὸ οὐκ ἐν γωνίᾳ δηλονότι δεήσει ποιεῖν, ἀλλὰ προσελθόντα ὑπατικῷ τινι, ἂν οὕτως τύχῃ, πλουσίῳ πυθέσθαι αὐτοῦ

[18] ἔχεις μοι εἰπεῖν, ὦ οὗτος, ᾧ τινι τοὺς ἵππους τοὺς σεαυτοῦ παρέδωκας; ἔγωγε. ἆρα τῷ τυχόντι καὶ ἀπείρῳ ἱππικῆς; οὐδαμῶς. τί δʼ; ᾧ τινι τὸ χρυσίον ἢ τὸ ἀργύριον ἢ τὴν ἐσθῆτα; οὐδὲ ταῦτα τῷ τυχόντι.

[19] τὸ σῶμα δὲ τὸ σαυτοῦ ἤδη τινὶ ἔσκεψαι ἐπιτρέψαι εἰς ἐπιμέλειαν αὐτοῦ; πῶς γὰρ οὔ; ἐμπείρῳ δηλονότι καὶ τούτῳ ἀλειπτικῆς ἢ ἰατρικῆς; πάνυ μὲν οὖν.

[20] πότερον ταῦτά σοι τὰ κράτιστά ἐστιν ἢ καὶ ἄλλο τι ἐκτήσω πάντων ἄμεινον; ποῖον καὶ λέγεις; τὸ αὐτοῖς νὴ Δία τούτοις χρώμενον καὶ δοκιμάζον ἕκαστον καὶ βουλευόμενον.

[21] ἆρά γε τὴν ψυχὴν λέγεις; ὀρθῶς ὑπέλαβες· ταύτην γάρ τοι καὶ λέγω. πολὺ νὴ Δία τῶν ἄλλων τοῦτο ἄμεινον δοκῶ μοι κεκτῆσθαι.

[22] ἔχεις οὖν εἰπεῖν, ὅτῳ τρόπῳ τῆς ψυχῆς ἐπιμεμέλησαι; οὐ γὰρ εἰκῇ χὠς ἔτυχεν εἰκός σε οὕτως σοφὸν ὄντα καὶ ἐν τῇ πόλει δόκιμον τὸ κράτιστον τῶν σεαυτοῦ περιορᾶν ἀμελούμενον καὶ ἀπολλύμενον.

[23] οὐδαμῶς. ἀλλʼ αὐτὸς ἐπιμεμέλησαι αὐτοῦ; πότερον μαθὼν παρά του ἢ εὑρὼν αὐτός; ὧδε λοιπὸν ὁ κίνδυνος, μὴ πρῶτον μὲν εἴπῃ

[24] τί δέ σοι μέλει, βέλτιστε; κύριός μου εἶ; εἶτʼ ἂν ἐπιμείνῃς πράγματα παρέχων, διαράμενος κονδύλους σοι δῷ.

[25] τούτου τοῦ πράγματος ἤμην ποτὲ ζηλωτὴς καὶ αὐτός, πρὶν εἰς ταῦτα ἐμπεσεῖν.

περὶ τοῦ ἀγωνιᾶν.

[1] ὅταν ἀγωνιῶντα ἴδω ἄνθρωπον, λέγω· οὗτος τί ποτε θέλει; εἰ μὴ τῶν οὐκ ἐφʼ αὑτῷ τι ἤθελεν, πῶς ἂν ἔτι ἠγωνία;

[2] διὰ τοῦτο καὶ ὁ κιθαρῳδὸς μόνος μὲν ᾁδων οὐκ ἀγωνιᾷ, εἰς θέατρον δʼ εἰσερχόμενος, κἂν λίαν εὔφωνος ᾖ καὶ καλῶς κιθαρίζῃ· οὐ γὰρ ᾆσαι μόνον θέλει καλῶς, ἀλλὰ καὶ εὐδοκιμῆσαι, τοῦτο δʼ οὐκέτι ἐστὶν ἐπʼ αὐτῷ.

[3] λοιπὸν οὗ μὲν ἡ ἐπιστήμη αὐτῷ πρόσεστιν, ἐκεῖ τὸ θάρσος· φέρε ὃν θέλεις ἰδιώτην καὶ οὐκ ἐπιστρέφεται· ὅπου δʼ οὐκ οἶδεν οὐδὲ μεμελέτηκεν, ἐκεῖ ἀγωνιᾷ.

[4] τί δʼ ἔστι τοῦτο; οὐκ οἶδεν, τί ἐστιν ὄχλος οὐδὲ τί ὄχλου ἔπαινος· ἀλλὰ τὴν νήτην μὲν τύπτειν ἔμαθεν καὶ τὴν ὑπάτην, ἔπαινος δʼ ὁ παρὰ τῶν πολλῶν τί ἐστι καὶ τίνα δύναμιν ἔχει ἐν βίῳ οὔτε οἶδεν οὔτε μεμελέτηκεν αὐτό.

[5] ἀνάγκη λοιπὸν τρέμειν καὶ ὠχριᾶν. κιθαρῳδὸν μὲν οὖν οὐ δύναμαι εἰπεῖν μὴ εἶναι, ὅταν ἴδω τινὰ φοβούμενον, ἄλλο δέ τι δύναμαι εἰπεῖν καὶ οὐδὲ ἕν, ἀλλὰ πολλά.

[6] καὶ πρῶτον πάντων ξένον αὐτὸν καλῶ καὶ λέγω· οὗτος ὁ ἄνθρωπος οὐκ οἶδεν ποῦ τῆς γῆς ἐστιν, ἀλλʼ ἐκ τοσούτου χρόνου ἐπιδημῶν ἀγνοεῖ τοὺς νόμους τῆς πόλεως καὶ τὰ ἔθη καὶ τί ἔξεστι καὶ τί οὐκ ἔξεστιν. ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ νομικόν τινα παρέλαβεν πώποτε τὸν ἐροῦντα αὐτῷ καὶ ἐξηγησόμενον τὰ νόμιμα·

[7] ἀλλὰ διαθήκην μὲν οὐ γράφει μὴ εἰδὼς πῶς δεῖ γράφειν ἢ παραλαβὼν τὸν εἰδότα οὐδʼ ἐγγύην ἄλλως σφραγίζεται ἢ ἀσφάλειαν γράφει, ὀρέξει δὲ χρῆται δίχα νομικοῦ καὶ ἐκκλίσει καὶ ὁρμῇ καὶ ἐπιβολῇ καὶ προθέσει.

[8] πῶς δίχα νομικοῦ; οὐκ οἶδεν ὅτι θέλει τὰ μὴ διδόμενα καὶ οὐ θέλει τὰ ἀναγκαῖα καὶ οὐκ οἶδεν οὔτε τὰ ἴδια οὔτε τὰ ἀλλότρια. εἰ δέ γʼ ᾔδει, οὐδέποτʼ ἂν ἐνεποδίζετο, οὐδέποτʼ ἐκωλύετο, οὐκ ἂν ἠγωνία.

[9] πῶς γὰρ οὔ; φοβεῖταί τις οὖν ὑπὲρ τῶν μὴ κακῶν; — οὔ. — τί δʼ; ὑπὲρ τῶν κακῶν μέν, ἐπʼ αὐτῷ δʼ ὄντων ὥστε μὴ συμβῆναι;

[10] — οὐδαμῶς. — εἰ οὖν τὰ μὲν ἀπροαίρετα οὔτʼ ἀγαθὰ οὔτε κακά, τὰ προαιρετικὰ δὲ πάντα ἐφʼ ἡμῖν καὶ οὔτʼ ἀφελέσθαι τις ἡμῶν αὐτὰ δύναται οὔτε περιποιῆσαι ἃ οὐ θέλομεν αὐτῶν, ποῦ ἔτι τόπος ἀγωνίας;

[11] ἀλλὰ περὶ τοῦ σωματίου ἀγωνιῶμεν, ὑπὲρ τοῦ κτησιδίου, περὶ τοῦ τί δόξει τῷ Καίσαρι, περὶ τῶν ἔσω δʼ οὐδενός. μή τι περὶ τοῦ μὴ ψεῦδος ὑπολαβεῖν; — οὔ· ἐπʼ ἐμοὶ γάρ ἐστιν. — μή τι τοῦ ὁρμῆσαι παρὰ φύσιν; — οὐδὲ περὶ τούτου. —

[12] ὅταν οὖν ἴδῃς τινὰ ὠχριῶντα, ὡς ὁ ἰατρὸς ἀπὸ τοῦ χρώματος λέγει τούτου ὁ σπλὴν πέπονθε, τούτου δὲ τὸ ἧπαρ, οὕτως καὶ σὺ λέγε τούτου ὄρεξις καὶ ἔκκλισις πέπονθεν, οὐκ εὐοδεῖ, φλεγμαίνει.

[13] χρῶμα γὰρ οὐ μεταβάλλει οὐδὲν ἄλλο οὐδὲ τρόμον ποιεῖ οὐδὲ ψόφον τῶν ὀδόντων οὐδὲ

μετοκλάζει καὶ ἐπʼ ἀμφοτέρους πόδας ἵζει.

[14] διὰ τοῦτο Ζήνων μὲν Ἀντιγόνῳ μέλλων ἐντυγχάνειν οὐκ ἠγωνία· ἃ γὰρ οὗτος ἐθαύμαζεν, τούτων οὐδενὸς εἶχεν ἐκεῖνος ἐξουσίαν, ὧν δʼ εἶχεν ἐκεῖνος οὐκ ἐπεστρέφετο οὗτος·

[15] Ἀντίγονος δὲ Ζήνωνι μέλλων ἐντυγχάνειν ἠγωνία, καὶ εἰκότως· ἤθελε γὰρ ἀρέσκειν αὐτῷ, τοῦτο δʼ ἔξω ἔκειτο· οὗτος δʼ ἐκείνῳ οὐκ ἤθελεν, οὐδὲ γὰρ ἄλλος τις τεχνίτης τῷ ἀτέχνῳ.

[16] ἐγώ σοι ἀρέσαι θέλω; ἀντὶ τίνος; οἶδας γὰρ τὰ μέτρα, καθʼ ἃ κρίνεται ἄνθρωπος ὑπʼ ἀνθρώπου; μεμέλ ετηκέ σοι γνῶναι, τί ἐστιν ἀγαθὸς ἄνθρωπος καὶ τί κακὸς καὶ πῶς ἑκάτερον γίγνεται; διὰ τί οὖν σὺ αὐτὸς ἀγαθὸς οὐκ εἶ;

[17] — πῶς, φησίν, οὐκ εἰμί; — ὅτι οὐδεὶς ἀγαθὸς πενθεῖ οὐδὲ στενάζει, οὐδεὶς οἰμώζει, οὐδεὶς ὠχριᾷ καὶ τρέμει οὐδὲ λέγει πῶς μʼ ἀποδέξεται, πῶς μου ἀκούσει;

[18] ἀνδράποδον, ὡς ἂν αὐτῷ δοκῇ. τί οὖν σοὶ μέλει περὶ τῶν ἀλλοτρίων; νῦν οὐκ ἐκείνου ἁμάρτημά ἐστι τὸ κακῶς ἀποδέξασθαι τὰ παρὰ σοῦ; — πῶς γὰρ οὔ; — δύναται δʼ ἄλλου μὲν εἶναι ἁμάρτημα, ἄλλου δὲ κακόν; — οὔ. — τί οὖν ἀγωνιᾷς ὑπὲρ τῶν ἀλλοτρίων;

[19] — ναί· ἀλλʼ ἀγωνιῶ, πῶς ἐγὼ αὐτῷ λαλήσω. — εἶτʼ οὐκ ἔξεστι γὰρ ὡς θέλεις αὐτῷ λαλῆσαι; — ἀλλὰ δέδοικα μὴ ἐκκρουσθῶ.

[20] — μή τι γράφειν μέλλων τὸ Δίωνος ὄνομα δέδοικας μὴ ἐκκρουσθῇς; — οὐδαμῶς. — τί τὸ αἴτιον; οὐχ ὅτι μεμελέτηκας γράφειν; — πῶς γὰρ οὔ; — τί δʼ; ἀναγιγνώσκειν μέλλων οὐχ ὡσαύτως ἂν εἶχες; — ὡσαύτως. — τί τὸ αἴτιον; ὅτι πᾶσα τέχνη ἰσχυρόν τι ἔχει καὶ θαρραλέον ἐν τοῖς ἑαυτῆς.

[21] λαλεῖν οὖν οὐ μεμελέτηκας; καὶ τί ἄλλο ἐμελέτας ἐν τῇ σχολῇ; — συλλογισμοὺς καὶ μεταπίπτοντας. — ἐπὶ τί; οὐχ ὥστε ἐμπείρως διαλέγεσθαι; τὸ δʼ ἐμπείρως ἐστὶν οὐχὶ εὐκαίρως καὶ ἀσφαλῶς καὶ συνετῶς, ἔτι δʼ ἀπταίστως καὶ ἀπαραποδίστως, ἐπὶ πᾶσι δὲ τούτοις τεθαρρηκότως; — ναί.

[22] — ἱππεὺς οὖν ὢν εἰς πεδίον ἐληλυθὼς πρὸς πεζὸν ἀγωνιᾶς, ὅπου σὺ μεμελέτηκας, ἐκεῖνος δʼ ἀμελέτητός ἐστιν; — ναί· ἀλλὰ ἐξουσίαν ἔχει ἀποκτεῖναί με.

[23] — λέγε οὖν τὰ ἀληθῆ, δύστηνε, καὶ μὴ ἀλαζονεύου μηδὲ φιλόσοφος εἶναι ἀξίου μηδὲ ἀγνόει σου τοὺς κυρίους, ἀλλὰ μέχρις ἂν ἔχῃς ταύτην τὴν λαβὴν τὴν ἀπὸ τοῦ σώματος, ἀκολούθει παντὶ τῷ ἰσχυροτέρῳ.

[24] λέγειν δὲ Σωκράτης ἐμελέτα ὁ πρὸς τοὺς τυράννους οὕτως διαλεγόμενος, ὁ πρὸς τοὺς δικαστάς, ὁ ἐν τῷ δεσμωτηρίῳ. λέγειν Διογένης μεμελετήκει ὁ πρὸς Ἀλέξανδρον οὕτως λαλῶν, ὁ πρὸς Φίλιππον, ὁ πρὸς τοὺς πειρατάς, ὁ πρὸς τὸν ὠνησάμενον αὐτόν

[25]

(25, 26)

ἐκείνοις, οἷς μεμέλ ετηκεν, τοῖς θαρροῦσι· σὺ δʼ ἐπὶ τὰ σαυτοῦ βάδιζε καὶ ἐκείνων ἀποστῇς μηδέποτε· εἰς τὴν γωνίαν ἀπελθὼν κάθησο καὶ πλέκε συλλογισμοὺς καὶ ἄλλῳ πρότεινε·

[27]

οὐκ ἔστι δʼ ἐν σοὶ πόλεος ἡγεμὼν ἀνήρ.

πρὸς Νάσωνα.

[1] εἰσελθόντος τινὸς τῶν Ῥωμαικῶν μετὰ υἱοῦ καὶ ἐπακούοντος ἑνὸς ἀναγνώσματος Οὗτος, ἔφη, ὁ τρόπος ἐστὶ τῆς διδασκαλίας καὶ ἀπεσιώπησεν.

[2] ἀξιοῦντος δʼ ἐκείνου εὑρεῖν τὰ ἑξῆς Κόπον ἔχει, ἔφη, πᾶσα τέχνη τῷ ἰδιώτῃ καὶ ἀπείρῳ αὐτῆς, ὅταν παραδιδῶται.

[3] καὶ τὰ μὲν ἀπὸ τῶν τεχνῶν γινόμενα τήν τε χρείαν εὐθὺς ἐνδείκνυται πρὸς ὃ γέγονεν καὶ τὰ πλεῖστα αὐτῶν ἔχει τι καὶ ἀγωγὸν καὶ ἐπίχαρι.

[4] καὶ γὰρ σκυτεὺς πῶς μὲν μανθάνει τις παρεῖναι καὶ παρακολουθεῖν ἀτερπές, τὸ δʼ ὑπόδημα χρήσιμον καὶ ἰδεῖν ἄλλως οὐκ ἀηδές.

[5] καὶ τέκτονος ἡ μὲν μάθησις ἀνιαρὰ μάλιστα τῷ ἰδιώτῃ παρατυγχάνοντι, τὸ δʼ ἔργον ἐπιδείκνυσι τὴν χρείαν τῆς τέχνης.

[6] πολὺ δὲ μᾶλλον ἐπὶ μουσικῆς ὄψει αὐτό· ἂν γὰρ παρῇς τῷ διδασκομένῳ, φανεῖταί σοι πάντων ἀτερπέστατον τὸ μάθημα, τὰ μέντοι ἀπὸ τῆς μουσικῆς ἡδέα καὶ ἐπιτερπῆ τοῖς ἰδιώταις ἀκούειν.

[7] καὶ ἐνταῦθα τὸ μὲν ἔργον τοῦ φιλοσοφοῦντος τοιοῦτόν τι φανταζόμεθα, ὅτι δεῖ τὴν αὑτοῦ βούλησιν συναρμόσαι τοῖς γινομένοις, ὡς μήτε τι τῶν γινομένων ἀκόντων ἡμῶν γίνεσθαι μήτε τῶν μὴ γινομένων θελόντων ἡμῶν μὴ γίνεσθαι.

[8] ἐξ οὗ περίεστι τοῖς συστησαμένοις αὐτὸ ἐν ὀρέξει μὴ ἀποτυγχάνειν, ἐν ἐκκλίσει δὲ μὴ περιπίπτειν, ἀλύπως, ἀφόβως, ἀταράχως διεξάγειν καθʼ αὑτὸν μετὰ τῶν κοινωνῶν τηροῦντα τὰς σχέσεις τάς τε φυσικὰς καὶ ἐπιθέτους, τὸν υἱόν, τὸν πατέρα, τὸν ἀδελφόν, τὸν πολίτην, τὸν ἄνδρα, τὴν γυναῖκα, τὸν γείτονα, τὸν σύνοδον, τὸν ἄρχοντα, τὸν ἀρχόμενον.

[9] τὸ ἔργον τοῦ φιλοσοφοῦντος τοιοῦτόν τι φανταζόμεθα. λοιπὸν ἐφεξῆς τούτῳ ζητοῦμεν, πῶς ἔσται τοῦτο.

[10] ὁρῶμεν οὖν ὅτι ὁ τέκτων μαθών τινα γίνεται τέκτων, ὁ κυβερνήτης μαθών τινα γίνεται κυβερνήτης. μή ποτʼ οὖν καὶ ἐνθάδε οὐκ ἀπαρκεῖ τὸ βούλεσθαι καλὸν καὶ ἀγαθὸν γενέσθαι, χρεία δὲ καὶ μαθεῖν τινα; ζητοῦμεν οὖν τίνα ταῦτα.

[11] λέγουσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι, ὅτι μαθεῖν δεῖ πρῶτον τοῦτο, ὅτι ἔστι θεὸς καὶ προνοεῖ τῶν ὅλων καὶ οὐκ ἔστι λαθεῖν αὐτὸν οὐ μόνον ποιοῦντα, ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ διανοούμενον ἢ ἐνθυμούμενον· εἶτα ποῖοί τινες εἰσίν.

[12] οἷοι γὰρ ἂν ἐκεῖνοι εὑρεθῶσιν, τὸν ἐκείνοις ἀρέσοντα καὶ πεισθησόμενον ἀνάγκη πειρᾶσθαι κατὰ δύναμιν ἐξομοιοῦσθαι ἐκείνοις·

[13] εἰ πιστόν ἐστι τὸ θεῖον, καὶ τοῦτον εἶναι πιστόν· εἰ ἐλεύθερον, καὶ τοῦτον ἐλεύθερον· εἰ εὐεργετικόν, καὶ τοῦτον εὐεργετικόν· εἰ μεγαλόφρον, καὶ τοῦτον μεγαλόφρονα· ὡς θεοῦ τοίνυν ζηλωτὴν τὰ ἑξῆς πάντα καὶ ποιεῖν καὶ λέγειν.

[14] πόθεν οὖν ἄρξασθαι δεῖ;— ἂν συγκαθῇς, ἐρῶ σοι ὅτι πρῶτον δεῖ σε τοῖς ὀνόμασι παρακολουθεῖν. — ὥστʼ ἐγὼ νῦν οὐ παρακολουθῶ τοῖς ὀνόμασιν;

[15] — οὐ παρακολουθεῖς. — πῶς οὖν χρῶμαι αὐτοῖς; — οὕτως ὡς οἱ ἀγράμματοι ταῖς ἐγγραμμάτοις φωναῖς, ὡς τὰ κτήνη ταῖς φαντασίαις· ἄλλο γάρ ἐστι χρῆσις, ἄλλο παρακολούθησις.

[16] εἰ δʼ οἴει παρακολουθεῖν, φέρε ὃ θέλεις ὄνομα καὶ βασανίσωμεν αὑτούς, εἰ παρακολουθοῦμεν.

[17] — ἀλλʼ ἀνιαρὸν τὸ ἐξελέγχεσθαι πρεσβύτερον ἄνθρωπον ἤδη κἂν οὕτως τύχῃ τὰς τρεῖς στρατείας ἐστρατευμένον.

[18] — οἶδα κἀγώ. νῦν γὰρ σὺ ἐλήλυθας πρὸς ἐμὲ ὡς μηδενὸς δεόμενος. τίνος δʼ ἂν καὶ φαντασθείης ὡς ἐνδέοντος; πλουτεῖς, τέκνα ἔχεις τυχὸν καὶ γυναῖκα καὶ οἰκέτας πολλούς, ὁ Καῖσάρ σε οἶδεν, ἐν Ῥώμῃ πολλοὺς φίλους κέκτησαι, τὰ καθήκοντα ἀποδίδως, οἶδας τὸν εὖ ποιοῦντα ἀντευποιῆσαι καὶ τὸν κακῶς ποιοῦντα κακῶς ποιῆσαι.

[19] τί σοι λείπει; ἂν οὖν σοι δείξω, ὅτι τὰ ἀναγκαιότατα καὶ μέγιστα πρὸς εὐδαιμονίαν καὶ ὅτι μέχρι δεῦρο πάντων μᾶλλον ἢ τῶν προσηκόντων ἐπιμεμέλησαι, καὶ τὸν κολοφῶνα ἐπιθῶ· οὔτε τί θεός ἐστιν οἶδας οὔτε τί ἄνθρωπος οὔτε τί ἀγαθὸν οὔτε τί κακόν,

[20] καὶ τὸ μὲν τῶν ἄλλων ἴσως ἀνεκτόν, ὅτι δʼ αὐτὸς αὑτὸν ἀγνοεῖς, πῶς δύνασαι ἀνασχέσθαι μου καὶ ὑποσχεῖν τὸν ἔλεγχον καὶ παραμεῖναι;

[21] οὐδαμῶς, ἀλλʼ εὐθὺς ἀπαλλάσσῃ χαλεπῶς ἔχων. καίτοι τί σοι ἐγὼ κακὸν πεποίηκα; εἰ μὴ καὶ τὸ ἔσοπτρον τῷ αἰσχρῷ, ὅτι δεικνύει αὐτὸν αὐτῷ οἷός ἐστιν· εἰ μὴ καὶ ὁ ἰατρὸς τὸν νοσοῦντα ὅταν αὐτὸν ὑβρίζει, ὅταν εἴπῃ αὐτῷ ἄνθρωπε, δοκεῖς μηδὲν ἔχειν, πυρέσσεις δέ· ἀσίτησον σήμερον, ὕδωρ πίε· καὶ οὐδεὶς λέγει ὦ δεινῆς ὕβρεως.

[22] ἐὰν δέ τινι εἴπῃς αἱ ὀρέξεις σου φλεγμαίνουσιν, αἱ ἐκκλίσεις ταπειναί εἰσιν, αἱ ἐπιβολαὶ ἀνομολογούμεναι, αἱ ὁρμαὶ ἀσύμφωνοι τῇ φύσει, αἱ ὑπολήψεις εἰκαῖαι καὶ ἐψευσμέναι, εὐθὺς ἐξελθὼν λέγει ὕβρισέν με.

[23] τοιαῦτά ἐστι τὰ ἡμέτερα ὡς ἐν πανηγύρει. τὰ μὲν κτήνη π αραθησόμενα ἄγεται καὶ οἱ βόες, οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ τῶν ἀνθρώπων οἱ μὲν ὠνησόμενοι οἱ δὲ πωλήσοντες· ὀλίγοι δέ τινές εἰσιν οἱ κατὰ θέαν ἐρχόμενοι τῆς πανηγύρεως, πῶς τοῦτο γίνεται καὶ διὰ τί καὶ τίνες οἱ τιθέντες τὴν πανήγυριν καὶ ἐπὶ τίνι.

[24] οὕτως καὶ ἐνθάδʼ ἐν τῇ πανηγύρει ταύτῃ· οἱ μέν τινες ὡς κτήνη οὐδὲν πλέον πολυπραγμονοῦσι τοῦ χόρτου· ὅσοι γὰρ περὶ κτῆσιν καὶ ἀγροὺς καὶ οἰκέτας καὶ ἀρχάς τινας ἀναστρέφεσθε, ταῦτα οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ χόρτος ἐστίν·

[25] ὀλίγοι δʼ εἰσὶν οἱ πανηγυρίζοντες ἄνθρωποι φιλοθεάμονες. τί ποτʼ οὖν ἐστιν ὁ κόσμος, τίς αὐτὸν διοικεῖ. οὐδείς;

[26] καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε πόλιν μὲν ἢ οἶκον μὴ δύνασθαι διαμένειν μηδʼ ὀλιγοστὸν χρόνον δίχα τοῦ διοικοῦντος καὶ ἐπιμελομένου, τὸ δʼ οὕτως μέγα καὶ καλὸν κατασκεύασμα εἰκῇ καὶ ὡς ἔτυχεν οὕτως εὐτάκτως οἰκονομεῖσθαι;

[27] ἔστιν οὖν ὁ διοικῶν. ποῖός τις καὶ πῶς ὁ διοικῶν; ἡμεῖς δὲ τίνες ὄντες ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ γεγόναμεν καὶ πρὸς τί ἔργον; ἆρά γʼ ἔχομέν τινα ἐπιπλοκὴν πρὸς αὐτὸν καὶ σχέσιν ἢ οὐδεμίαν;

[28] ταῦτʼ ἔστιν ἃ πάσχουσιν οὗτοι οἱ ὀλίγοι· καὶ λοιπὸν τούτῳ μόνῳ σχολάζουσι τῷ τὴν πανήγυριν ἱστορήσαντας ἀπελθεῖν.

[29] τί οὖν; καταγελῶνται ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν· καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖ οἱ θεαταὶ ὑπὸ τῶν ἐμπόρων· καὶ εἰ τὰ κτήνη συναίσθησίν τινα εἶχεν, κατεγέλα τῶν ἄλλο τι τεθαυμακότων ἢ τὸν χόρτον.

πρὸς τοὺς σκληρῶς τισιν ὧν ἔκριναν ἐμμένοντας.

[1] ὅταν ἀκούσωσί τινες τούτων τῶν λόγων, ὅτι βέβαιον εἶναι δεῖ καὶ ἡ μὲν προαίρεσις ἐλεύθερον φύσει καὶ ἀνανάγκαστον, τὰ δʼ ἄλλα κωλυτά, ἀναγκαστά, δοῦλα, ἀλλότρια, φαντάζονται ὅτι δεῖ παντὶ τῷ κριθέντι ὑπʼ αὐτῶν ἀπαραβάτως ἐμμένειν.

[2] ἀλλὰ πρῶτον ὑγιὲς εἶναι δεῖ τὸ κεκριμένον. θέλω γὰρ εἶναι τόνους ἐν σώματι, ἀλλʼ ὡς ὑγιαίνοντι, ὡς ἀθλοῦντι·

[3] ἂν δέ μοι φρενιτικοῦ τόνους ἔχων ἐνδεικνύῃ ς καὶ ἀλαζονεύῃ ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς, ἐρῶ σοι ὅτι ἄνθρωπε, ζήτει τὸν θεραπεύσοντα. τοῦτο οὐκ εἰσὶ τόνοι, ἀλλʼ ἀτονία.

[4] ἕτερον τρόπον τοιοῦτόν τι καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς ψυχῆς πάσχουσιν οἱ παρακούοντες τῶν λόγων τούτων. οἷον καὶ ἐμός τις ἑταῖρος ἐξ οὐδεμιᾶς αἰτίας ἔκρινεν ἀποκαρτερεῖν.

[5] ἔγνων ἐγὼ ἤδη τρίτην ἡμέραν ἔχοντος αὐτοῦ τῆς ἀποχῆς καὶ ἐλθὼν ἐπυνθανόμην τί ἐγένετο.

[6] — κέκρικα, φησίν. — ἀλλʼ ὅμως τί σε ἦν τὸ ἀναπεῖσαν; εἰ γὰρ ὀρθῶς ἔκρινας, ἰδοὺ παρακαθήμεθά σοι καὶ συνεργοῦμεν, ἵνʼ ἐξέλθῃς· εἰ δʼ ἀλόγως ἔκρινας, μετάθου.

[7] — τοῖς κριθεῖσιν ἐμμένειν δεῖ. — τί ποιεῖς, ἄνθρωπε; οὐ πᾶσιν, ἀλλὰ τοῖς ὀρθῶς. ἐπεὶ παθὼν ἄρτι ὅτι νύξ ἐστιν, ἄν σοι δοκῇ, μὴ μετατίθεσο, ἀλλʼ ἔμμενε καὶ λέγε ὅτι τοῖς κριθεῖσιν ἐμμένειν δεῖ.

[8] τί ποιεῖς, ἄνθρωπε; οὐ πᾶσιν. οὐ θέλεις τὴν ἀρχὴν στῆσαι καὶ τὸν θεμέλιον, τὸ κρίμα σκέψασθαι πότερον ὑγιὲς ἢ οὐχ ὑγιές, καὶ οὕτως λοιπὸν ἐποικοδομεῖν αὐτῷ τὴν εὐτονίαν, τὴν ἀσφάλειαν;

[9] ἂν δὲ σαπρὸν ὑποστήσῃ καὶ καταπῖπτον, οὐκ οἰκοδόμημά τι ὄν, ὅσῳ δʼ ἂν πλείονα καὶ ἰσχυρότερα ἐπιθῇς, τοσούτῳ θᾶττον θᾶττον κατενεχθήσεται.

[10] ἄνευ πάσης αἰτίας ἐξάγεις ἡμῖν ἄνθρωπον ἐκ τοῦ ζῆν φίλον καὶ συνήθη, τῆς αὐτῆς πόλεως πολίτην καὶ τῆς μεγάλης καὶ τῆς μικρᾶς·

[11] εἶτα φόνον ἐργαζόμενος καὶ ἀπολλύων ἄνθρωπον μηδὲν ἠδικηκότα λέγεις ὅτι τοῖς κριθεῖσιν ἐμμένειν δεῖ.

[12] εἰ δʼ ἐπῆλθέν σοί πώς ποτʼ ἐμὲ ἀποκτεῖναι, ἔδει σε ἐμμένειν τοῖς κριθεῖσιν;

[13] ἐκεῖνος μὲν οὖν μόγις μετεπείσθη. τῶν δὲ νῦν τινας οὐκ ἔστι μεταθεῖναι. ὥστε μοι δοκῶ ὃ πρότερον ἠγνόουν νῦν εἰδέναι, τί ἐστι τὸ ἐν τῇ συνηθείᾳ λεγόμενον· μωρὸν οὔτε πεῖσαι οὔτε ῥῆξαι ἔστιν.

[14] μή μοι γένοιτο φίλον ἔχειν σοφὸν μωρόν. δυσμεταχειριστότερον οὐδέν ἐστιν. κέκρικα. καὶ γὰρ οἱ μαινόμενοι· ἀλλʼ ὅσῳ βεβαιότερον κρίνουσι τὰ οὐκ ὄντα, τοσούτῳ πλείονος ἐλλεβόρου δέονται.

[15] οὐ θέλεις τὰ τοῦ νοσοῦντος ποιεῖν καὶ τὸν ἰατρὸν παρακαλεῖν; νοσῶ, κύριε· βοήθησόν μοι. τί με δεῖ ποιεῖν σκέψαι· ἐμόν ἐστι πείθεσθαί σοι.

[16] οὕτως καὶ ἐνταῦθʼ. ἃ δεῖ με ποιεῖν οὐκ οἶδα, ἐλήλυθα δὲ μαθησόμενος. οὔ, ἀλλὰ περὶ τῶν ἄλλων μοι λέγε. τοῦτο δὲ κέκρικα.

[17] περὶ ποίων ἄλλων; τί γάρ ἐστι μεῖζον ἢ προὐργιαίτερον τοῦ πεισθῆναί σε, ὅτι οὐκ ἀρκεῖ τὸ κεκρικέναι καὶ τὸ μὴ μεταθέσθαι;

[18] οὗτοι οἱ μανικοὶ τόνοι, οὐχ ὑγιεινοί. ἀποθανεῖν θέλω, ἄν με τοῦτο ἀναγκάσῃς. διὰ τί, ἄνθρωπε; τί ἐγένετο; κέκρικα. ἐσώθην, ὅτι οὐ κέκρικας ἐμὲ ἀποκτεῖναι.

[19] ἀργύριον οὐ λαμβάνω. διὰ τί; κέκρικα. ἴσθι ὅτι ᾧ τόνῳ νῦν χρῇ πρὸς τὸ μὴ λαμβάνειν, οὐδὲν κωλύει σε ἀλόγως ποτὲ ῥέψαι πρὸς τὸ λαμβάνειν καὶ πάλιν λέγειν ὅτι κέκρικα,

[20] ὥσπερ ἐν νοσοῦντι καὶ ῥευματιζομένῳ σώματι ποτὲ μὲν ἐπὶ ταῦτα ποτὲ δʼ ἐπʼ ἐκεῖνα ῥέπει τὸ ῥεῦμα. οὕτως καὶ ἀσθενὴς ψυχή, ὅπου μὲν κλίνει, ἄδηλον ἔχει· ὅταν δὲ καὶ τόνος προσῇ τῷ κλίματι τούτῳ καὶ τῇ φορᾷ, τότε γίνεται τὸ κακὸν ἀβοήθητον καὶ ἀθεράπευτον.

ὅτι οὐ μελετῶμεν χρῆσθαι τοῖς περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν δόγμασιν.

[1] ποῦ τὸ ἀγαθόν; — ἐν προαιρέσει. — ποῦ τὸ κακόν; — ἐν προαιρέσει. — ποῦ τὸ οὐδέτερον; — ἐν τοῖς ἀπροαιρέτοις.

[2] — τί οὖν; μέμνηταί τις ἡμῶν ἔξω τούτων τῶν λόγων; μελετᾷ τις αὐτὸς ἐφʼ αὑτοῦ τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον ἀποκρίνεσθαι τοῖς πράγμασιν ὡς ἐπὶ τῶν ἐρωτημάτων· ἆρά γε ἡμέρα ἐστίν; ναί. τί δέ; νύξ ἐστιν; οὔ. τί δʼ; ἄρτιοί εἰσιν οἱ ἀστέρες; οὐκ ἔχω λέγειν.

[3] ὅταν σοι προφαίνηται ἀργύριον, μεμελέτηκας ἀποκρίνεσθαι τὴν δέουσαν ἀπόκρισιν, ὅτι οὐκ ἀγαθόν; ἤσκηκας ἐν ταύταις ταῖς ἀποκρίσεσιν ἢ πρὸς μόνα· τὰ σοφίσματα;

[4] τί οὖν θαυμάζεις, εἰ, ὅπου μὲν μεμελέτηκας, ἐκεῖ κρείττων γένῃ σεαυτοῦ, ὅπου δʼ ἀμελετήτως ἔχεις, ἐκεῖ δʼ ὁ αὐτὸς διαμένεις;

[5] ἐπεὶ διὰ τί ὁ ῥήτωρ εἰδὼς ὅτι γέγραφε καλῶς, ὅτι ἀνείληφε τὰ γεγραμμένα, φωνὴν εἰσφέρων ἡδεῖαν ὅμως ἔτι ἀγωνιᾷ; ὅτι οὐκ ἀρκεῖται τῷ μελετῆσαι.

[6] τί οὖν θέλει ς; ἐπαινεθῆναι ὑπὸ τῶν παρόντων. πρὸς μὲν οὖν τὸ δύνασθαι μελετᾶν ἤσκηται, πρὸς ἔπαινον δὲ καὶ ψόγον οὐκ ἤσκηται.

[7] πότε γὰρ ἤκουσεν παρά τινος, τί ἐστιν ἔπαινος, τί ἐστι ψόγος, τίς ἑκατέρου φύσις; τοὺς ποίους τῶν ἐπαίνων διωκτέον ἢ τοὺς ποίους τῶν ψόγων φευκτέον; πότε δʼ ἐμελέτησεν ταύτην τὴν μελέτην ἀκόλουθον τούτοις τοῖς λόγοις;

[8] τί οὖν ἔτι θαυμάζεις, εἰ, ὅπου μὲν ἔμαθεν, ἐκεῖ διαφέρει τῶν ἄλλων, ὅπου δʼ οὐ μεμελέτηκεν, ἐκεῖ τοῖς πολλοῖς ὁ αὐτός ἐστιν;

[9] ὡς ὁ κιθαρῳδὸς οἶδεν κιθαρίζειν, ᾁδει καλῶς, στατὸν ἔχει καλὸν καὶ ὅμως εἰσερχόμενος τρέμει· ταῦτα γὰρ οἶδεν, ὄχλος δὲ τί ἐστιν οὐκ οἶδεν οὐδʼ ὄχλου βοὴ οὐδὲ κατάγελως.

[10] ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ αὐτὸ τὸ ἀγωνιᾶν τί ἐστιν οἶδεν, πότερον ἡμέτερον ἔργον ἐστὶν ἢ ἀλλότριον, ἔστιν αὐτὸ παῦσαι ἢ οὐκ ἔστιν. διὰ τοῦτο ἐὰν μὲν ἐπαινεθῇ, φυσηθεὶς ἐξῆλθεν· ἐὰν δὲ καταγελασθῇ, τὸ φυσημάτιον ἐκεῖνο ἐκεντήθη καὶ προσεκάθισεν.

[11] τοιοῦτόν τι καὶ ἡμεῖς πάσχομεν. τίνα θαυμάζομεν; τὰ ἐκτός. περὶ τίνα σπουδάζομεν; περὶ τὰ ἐκτός. εἶτʼ ἀποροῦμεν, πῶς φοβούμεθα ἢ πῶς ἀγωνιῶμεν;

[12] τί οὖν ἐνδέχεται, ὅταν τὰ ἐπιφερόμενα κακὰ ἡγώμεθα; οὐ δυνάμεθα μὴ φοβεῖσθαι, οὐ δυνάμεθα μὴ ἀγωνιᾶν.

[13] εἶτα λέγομεν κύριε ὁ θεός, πῶς μὴ ἀγωνιῶ; μωρέ, χεῖρας οὐκ ἔχεις; οὐκ ἐποίησέν σοι αὐτὰς ὁ θεός; εὔχου νῦν καθήμενος, ὅπως αἱ μύξαι σου μὴ ῥέωσιν· ἀπόμυξαι μᾶλλον καὶ μὴ ἐγκάλει.

[14] τί οὖν; ἐνταῦθά σοι οὐδὲν δέδωκεν; οὐ δέδωκέ σοι καρτερίαν, οὐ δέδωκέ σοι μεγαλοψυχίαν, οὐ δέδωκεν ἀνδρείαν; τηλικαύτας ἔχων χεῖρας ἔτι ζητεῖς τὸν ἀπομύξοντα;

[15] ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ μελετῶμεν ταῦτα οὐδʼ ἐπιστρεφόμεθα. ἐπεὶ δότε μοι ἕνα, ᾧ μέλει πῶς τι ποιήσῃ, ὃς ἐπιστρέφεται οὐ τοῦ τυχεῖν τινος, ἀλλὰ τῆς ἐνεργείας τῆς αὑτοῦ· τίς περιπατῶν τῆς ἐνεργείας τῆς αὑτοῦ ἐπιστρέφεται; τίς βουλευόμενος αὐτῆς τῆς βουλῆς, οὐχὶ δὲ τοῦ τυχεῖν ἐκείνου περὶ οὗ βουλεύεται;

[16] κἂν μὲν τύχῃ, ἐπῆρται καὶ λέγει πῶς γὰρ ἡμεῖς καλῶς ἐβουλευσάμεθα; οὐκ ἔλεγόν σοι, ἀδελφέ, ὅτι ἀδύνατόν ἐστιν ἡμῶν τι σκεψαμένων μὴ οὕτως ἐκβῆναι; ἂν δʼ ἑτέρως χωρήσῃ, τεταπείνωται τάλας, οὐχ εὑρίσκει οὐδὲ τί εἴπῃ περὶ τῶν γεγονότων. τίς ἡμῶν τούτου ἕνεκα μάντιν παρέλαβεν;

[17] τίς ἡμῶν οὐκ ἐνεκοιμήθη ὑπὲρ ἐνεργείας; τίς; ἕνα μοι δότε, ἵνα ἴδω τοῦτον, ὃν ἐκ πολλοῦ χρόνου ζητῶ, τὸν ταῖς ἀληθείαις εὐγενῆ καὶ εὐφυᾶ· εἴτε νέον εἴτε πρεσβύτερον, δότε.

[18] τί οὖν ἔτι θαυμάζομεν εἰ περὶ μὲν τὰς ὕλας τετρίμμεθα, ἐν δὲ ταῖς ἐνεργείαις ταπεινοί, ἀσχήμονες, οὐδενὸς ἄξιοι, δειλοί, ἀταλαίπωροι, ὅλοι ἀτυχήματα; οὐ γὰρ μεμέληκεν ἡμῖν οὐδὲ μελετῶμεν.

[19] εἰ δὲ μὴ τὸν θάνατον ἢ τὴν φυγὴν ἐφοβούμεθα, ἀλλὰ τὸν φόβον, ἐμελετῶμεν ἂν ἐκείνοις μὴ περιπίπτειν ἃ φαίνεται ἡμῖν κακά.

[20] νῦν δʼ ἐν μὲν τῇ σχολῇ γοργοὶ καὶ κατάγλωσσοι, κἂν ζητημάτιον ἐμπέσῃ περί τινος τούτων, ἱκανοὶ τὰ ἑξῆς ἐπελθεῖν· ἕλκυσον δʼ εἰς χρῆσιν καὶ εὑρήσεις τάλανας ναυαγούς. προσπεσέτω φαντασία ταρακτικὴ καὶ γνώσῃ, τί ἐμελετῶμεν καὶ πρὸς τί ἐγυμναζόμεθα.

[21] λοιπὸν ὑπὸ τῆς ἀμελετησίας προσεπισωρεύομεν ἀεί τινα καὶ προσπλάσσομεν μείζονα τῶν καθεστώτων.

[22] εὐθὺς ἐγώ, ὅταν πλέω, κατακύψας εἰς τὸν βυθὸν ἢ τὸ πέλαγος περιβλεψάμενος καὶ μὴ ἰδὼν γῆν ἐξίσταμαι καὶ φανταζόμενος, ὅτι ὅλον με δεῖ τὸ πέλαγος τοῦτο ἐκπιεῖν, ἂν ναυαγήσω, οὐκ ἐπέρχεταί μοι, ὅτι μοι τρεῖς ξέσται ἀρκοῦσιν. τί οὖν με ταράσσει; τὸ πέλαγος; οὔ, ἀλλὰ τὸ δόγμα.

[23] πάλιν ὅταν σεισμὸς γένηται, φαντάζομαι ὅτι ἡ πόλις ἐπιπίπτειν μοι μέλλει· οὐ γὰρ ἀρκεῖ μικρὸν λιθάριον, ἵνʼ ἔξω μου τὸν ἐγκέφαλον βάλῃ;

[24] τίνα οὖν ἐστι τὰ βαροῦντα καὶ ἐξιστάντα ἡμᾶς; τίνα γὰρ ἄλλα ἢ τὰ δόγματα; τὸν γὰρ ἐξιόντα καὶ ἀπαλλαττόμενον τῶν συνήθων καὶ ἑταίρων καὶ τόπων καὶ συναναστροφῆς τί ἐστι τὸ βαροῦν ἄλλο ἢ δόγμα;

[25] τὰ γοῦν παιδία εὐθὺς ὅταν κλαύσῃ μικρὰ τῆς τιτθῆς ἀπελθούσης, πλακούντιον λαβόντα ἐπιλέλησται.

[26] θέλεις οὖν καὶ ἡμεῖς τοῖς παιδίοις ὁμοιῶμεν; οὔ, νὴ τὸν Δία. οὐ γὰρ ὑπὸ πλακουντίου τοῦτο πάσχειν ἀξιῶ, ἀλλʼ ὑπὸ δογμάτων ὀρθῶν.

[27] τίνα δʼ ἐστὶ ταῦτα; ἃ δεῖ τὸν ἄνθρωπον ὅλην τὴν ἡμέραν μελετῶντα μηδενὶ προσπάσχειν τῶν ἀλλοτρίων, μηθʼ ἑταίρῳ μήτε τόπῳ μήτε γυμνασίοις, ἀλλὰ μηδὲ τῷ σώματι τῷ αὑτοῦ, μεμνῆσθαι δὲ τοῦ νόμου καὶ τοῦτον πρὸ ὀφθαλμῶν ἔχειν. τίς δʼ ὁ νόμος ὁ θεῖος;

[28] τὰ ἴδια τηρεῖν, τῶν ἀλλοτρίων μὴ ἀντιποιεῖσθαι, ἀλλὰ διδομένοις μὲν χρῆσθαι, μὴ διδόμενα δὲ μὴ ποθεῖν, ἀφαιρουμένου δέ τινος ἀποδιδόναι εὐλύτως καὶ αὐτόθεν, χάριν εἰδότα οὗ ἐχρήσατο χρόνου, εἰ θέλεις μὴ κλάειν τὴν τιτθὴν καὶ μάμμην.

[29] τί γὰρ διαφέρει, τίνος ἥττων ἐστὶ καὶ ἐκ τίνος κρέμαται; τί κρείττων εἶ τοῦ διὰ κοράσιον κλάοντος, εἰ διὰ γυμνασίδιον καὶ στωίδια καὶ νεανισκάρια καὶ τοιαύτην διατριβὴν πενθεῖς;

[30] ἄλλος ἐλθὼν ὅτι οὐκέτι τὸ τῆς Δίρκης ὕδωρ πίνειν μέλλει. τὸ γὰρ Μάρκιον χεῖρόν ἐστι τοῦ τῆς Δίρκης; ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνό μοι σύνηθες ἦν.

[31] καὶ τοῦτο πάλιν ἔσται σοι σύνηθες. εἶτʼ ἂν μὲν τοιούτῳ προσπάθῃς, καὶ τοῦτο πάλιν κλαῖε καὶ ζήτει στίχον ὅμοιον τῷ Εὐριπίδου ποιῆσαι

θερμάς τε τὰς Νέρωνος Μάρκιόν θʼ ὕδωρ.

ἴδε πῶς τραγῳδία γίνεται, ὅταν εἰς μωροὺς ἀνθρώπους πράγματα τὰ τυγχάνοντʼ ἐμπέσῃ.

[32] πότε οὖν Ἀθήνας πάλιν ὄψομαι καὶ τὴν ἀκρόπολιν; τάλας, οὐκ ἀρκεῖ σοι ἃ βλέπεις καθʼ ἡμέραν; κρεῖττόν τι ἔχεις ἢ μεῖζον ἰδεῖν τοῦ ἡλίου, τῆς σελήνης, τῶν ἄστρων, τῆς γῆς ὅλης, τῆς θαλάσσης;

[33] εἰ δὲ δὴ παρακολουθεῖς τῷ διοικοῦντι τὰ ὅλα κἀκεῖνον ἐν σαυτῷ περιφέρεις, ἔτι ποθεῖς λιθάρια καὶ πέτραν κομψήν; ὅταν οὖν μέλλῃς ἀπολιπεῖν αὐτὸν τὸν ἥλιον καὶ τὴν σελήνην, τί ποιήσεις;

[34] κλαύσεις καθήμενος ὡς τὰ παιδία; τί οὖν ἐν τῇ σχολῇ ἐποίεις, τί ἤκουες, τί ἐμάνθανες; τί σαυτὸν φιλόσοφον ἐπέγραφες ἐξὸν τὰ ὄντα ἐπιγράφειν; ὅτι εἰσαγωγὰς ἔπραξά ς τινας καὶ Χρυσίππεια ἀνέγνων, φιλοσόφου δʼ οὐδὲ θύραν παρῆλθον.

[35] ποῦ γάρ μοι μέτεστι τούτου τοῦ πράγματος, οὗ Σωκράτει μετῆν τῷ οὕτως ἀποθανόντι, οὕτως ζήσαντι; οὗ Διογένει μετῆν;

[36] ἐπινοεῖς τούτων τινὰ κλάοντα ἢ ἀγανακτοῦντα, ὅτι τὸν δεῖνα οὐ μέλλει βλέπειν οὐδὲ τὴν δεῖνα οὐδʼ ἐν Ἀθήναις ἔσεσθαι ἢ ἐν Κορίνθῳ, ἀλλʼ, ἂν οὕτως τύχῃ, ἐν Σούσοις ἢ ἐν Ἐκβατάνοις;

[37] ᾧ γὰρ ἔξεστιν ἐξελθεῖν, ὅταν θέλῃ, τοῦ συμποσίου καὶ μηκέτι παίζειν, ἔτι οὗτος ἀνιᾶται μένων; οὐχὶ δʼ ὡς παιδιᾷ παραμένει, μέχρις ἂν ψυχαγωγῆται;

[38] ταχύ γʼ ἂν ὁ τοιοῦτος ὑπομείναι φυγήν τινα φυγεῖν εἰς ἅπαντα ἢ τὴν ἐπὶ θανάτῳ κατακριθείς.

[39] οὐ θέλεις ἤδη ὡς τὰ παιδία ἀπογαλακτισθῆναι καὶ ἅπτεσθαι τροφῆς στερεωτέρας μηδὲ κλάειν μάμμας καὶ τιτθάς, γραῶν ἀποκλαύματα;

[40] ἀλλʼ ἐκείνας ἀπαλλασσόμενος ἀνιάσω. σὺ αὐτὰς ἀνιάσεις; οὐδαμῶς, ἀλλʼ ὅπερ καὶ σέ, τὸ δόγμα. τί οὖν ἔχεις ποιῆσαι; ἔξελε, τὸ δʼ ἐκείνων, ἂν εὖ ποιῶσιν, αὐταὶ ἐξελοῦσιν· εἰ δὲ μή, οἰμώξουσι διʼ αὑτάς.

[41] ἄνθρωπε, τὸ λεγόμενον τοῦτο ἀπονοήθητι ἤδη ὑπὲρ εὐροίας, ὑπὲρ ἐλευθερίας, ὑπὲρ μεγαλοψυχίας. ἀνάτεινόν ποτε τὸν τράχηλον ὡς ἀπηλλαγμένος δουλείας,

[42] τόλμησον ἀναβλέψας πρὸς τὸν θεὸν εἰπεῖν ὅτι χρῶ μοι λοιπὸν εἰς ὃ ἂν θέλῃς· ὁμογνωμονῶ σοι, ἰσός εἰμι· οὐδὲν παραιτοῦμαι τῶν σοὶ δοκούντων· ὅπου θέλεις, ἄγε· ἣν θέλεις ἐσθῆτα περίθες. ἄρχειν με θέλεις, ἰδιωτεύειν, μένειν, φεύγειν, πένεσθαι, πλουτεῖν; ἐγώ σοι ὑπὲρ ἁπάντων τούτων πρὸς τοὺς ἀνθρώπους ἀπολογήσομαι· δείξω τὴν ἑκάστου φύσιν οἵα ἐστίν.

[43] οὔ·

[44] ἀλλʼ ἐν βοὸς κοιλίᾳ καθήμενος ἐκδέχου σου τὴν μάμμην, μέχρις σε χορτάσῃ. ὁ Ἡρακλῆς εἰ τοῖς ἐν οἴκῳ παρεκάθητο, τίς ἂν ἦν; Εὐρυσθεὺς καὶ οὐχὶ Ἡρακλῆς. ἄγε, πόσους δὲ περιερχόμενος τὴν οἰκουμένην συνήθεις ἔσχεν, φίλους; ἀλλʼ οὐδὲν φίλτερον τοῦ θεοῦ· διὰ τοῦτο ἐπιστεύθη Διὸς υἱὸς εἶναι καὶ ἦν. ἐκείνῳ τοίνυν πειθόμενος περιῄει καθαίρων ἀδικίαν καὶ ἀνομίαν.

[45] ἀλλʼ οὐκ εἶ Ἡρακλῆς καὶ οὐ δύνασαι καθαίρειν τὰ ἀλλότρια κακά, ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ Θησεύς, ἵνα τὰ τῆς Ἀττικῆς καθάρῃς· τὰ σαυτοῦ κάθαρον. ἐντεῦθεν ἐκ τῆς διανοίας ἔκβαλε ἀντὶ Προκρούστου καὶ Σκίρωνος λύπην, φόβον, ἐπιθυμίαν, φθόνον, ἐπιχαιρεκακίαν, φιλαργυρίαν, μαλακίαν, ἀκρασίαν.

[46] ταῦτα δʼ οὐκ ἔστιν ἄλλως ἐκβαλεῖν, εἰ μὴ πρὸς μόνον τὸν θεὸν ἀποβλέποντα, ἐκείνῳ μόνῳ προσπεπονθότα, τοῖς ἐκείνου προστάγμασι καθωσιωμένον. ἂν δʼ ἄλλο τι θέλῃς,

[47] οἰμώζων καὶ στένων ἀκολουθήσεις τῷ ἰσχυροτέρῳ ἔξω ζητῶν ἀεὶ τὴν εὔροιαν καὶ μηδέποτʼ εὐροεῖν δυνάμενος. ἐκεῖ γὰρ αὐτὴν ζητεῖς, οὗ μή ἐστιν, ἀφεὶς ἐκεῖ ζητεῖν, ὅπου ἐστίν.

πῶς ἐφαρμοστέον τὰς προλήψεις τοῖς ἐπὶ μέρους.

[1] τί πρῶτόν ἐστιν ἔργον τοῦ φιλοσοφοῦντος; ἀποβαλεῖν οἴησιν· ἀμήχανον γάρ, ἅ τις εἰδέναι οἴεται, ταῦτα ἄρξασθαι μανθάνειν.

[2] τὰ μὲν οὖν ποιητέα καὶ οὐ ποιητέα καὶ ἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ καὶ καλὰ καὶ αἰσχρὰ πάντες ἄνω καὶ κάτω λαλοῦντες ἐρχόμεθα πρὸς τοὺς φιλοσόφους, ἐπὶ τούτοις ἐπαινοῦντες ψέγοντες, ἐγκαλοῦντες μεμφόμενοι, περὶ ἐπιτηδευμάτων καλῶν καὶ αἰσχρῶν ἐπικρίνοντες καὶ διαλαμβάνοντες.

[3] τίνος δʼ ἕνεκα προσερχόμεθα τοῖς φιλοσόφοις; ἃ οὐκ οἰόμεθα εἰδέναι. τίνα δʼ ἐστὶ ταῦτα; τὰ θεωρήματα. ἃ γὰρ λαλοῦσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι, μαθεῖν θέλομεν ὡς κομψὰ καὶ δριμέα, οἱ δʼ, ἵνʼ ἀπʼ αὐτῶν περιποιήσωνται.

[4] γελοῖον οὖν τὸ οἴεσθαι, ὅτι ἄλλα μέν τις μαθεῖν βούλεται, ἄλλα δὲ μαθήσεται, ἢ λοιπὸν ὅτι προκόψει τις ἐν οἷς οὐ μανθάνει.

[5] τὸ δʼ ἐξαπατῶν τοὺς πολλοὺς τοῦτʼ ἔστιν, ὅπερ καὶ Θεόπομπον τὸν ῥήτορα, ὅπου καὶ Πλάτωνι ἐγκαλεῖ ἐπὶ τῷ βούλεσθαι ἕκαστα ὁρίζεσθαι.

[6] τί γὰρ λέγει; οὐδεὶς ἡμῶν πρὸ σοῦ ἔλεγεν ἀγαθὸν ἢ δίκαιον; ἢ μὴ παρακολουθοῦντες τί ἐστι τούτων ἕκαστον ἀσήμως καὶ κενῶς ἐφθεγγόμεθα τὰς φωνάς;

[7] τίς γάρ σοι λέγει, Θεόπομπε, ὅτι ἐννοίας οὐκ εἴχομεν ἑκάστου τούτων φυσικὰς καὶ προλήψεις; ἀλλʼ οὐχ οἷόν τʼ ἐφαρμόζειν τὰς προλήψεις ταῖς καταλλήλοις οὐσίαις μὴ διαρθρώσαντα αὐτὰς καὶ αὐτὸ τοῦτο σκεψάμενον, ποίαν τινὰ ἑκάστῃ αὐτῶν οὐσίαν ὑποτακτέον.

[8] ἐπεὶ τοιαῦτα λέγε καὶ πρὸς τοὺς ἰατρούς· τίς γὰρ ἡμῶν οὐκ ἔλεγεν ὑγιεινόν τι καὶ νοσερόν, πρὶν Ἱπποκράτη γενέσθαι; ἢ κενῶς τὰς φωνὰς ταύτας ἀπηχοῦμεν;

[9] ἔχομεν γάρ τινα καὶ ὑγιεινοῦ πρόληψιν, ἀλλʼ ἐφαρμόσαι οὐ δυνάμεθα. διὰ τοῦτο ὁ μὲν λέγει ἀνάτεινον, ὁ δὲ λέγει δὸς τροφήν· καὶ ὁ μὲν λέγει φλεβοτόμησον, ὁ δὲ λέγει σικύασον. τί τὸ αἴτιον; ἄλλο γε ἢ ὅτι τὴν τοῦ ὑγιεινοῦ πρόληψιν οὐ δύναται καλῶς ἐφαρμόσαι τοῖς ἐπὶ μέρους;

[10] οὕτως ἔχει καὶ ἐνθάδʼ ἐπὶ τῶν κατὰ τὸν βίον. ἀγαθὸν καὶ κακὸν καὶ συμφέρον καὶ ἀσύμφορον τίς ἡμῶν οὐ λαλεῖ; τίς γὰρ ἡμῶν οὐκ ἔχει τούτων ἑκάστου πρόληψιν; ἆρʼ οὖν διηρθρωμένην καὶ τελείαν;

[11] τοῦτο δεῖξον. πῶς δείξω; ἐφάρμοσον αὐτὴν καλῶς ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρους οὐσίαις. εὐθὺς τοὺς ὅρους Πλάτων μὲν ὑποτάσσει τῇ τοῦ χρησίμου προλήψει, σὺ δὲ τῇ τοῦ ἀχρήστου.

[12] δυνατὸν οὖν ἐστιν ἀμφοτέρους ὑμᾶς ἐπιτυγχάνειν; πῶς οἷόν τε; τῇ δὲ τοῦ πλούτου οὐσίᾳ οὐχ ὁ μέν τις ἐφαρμόζει τὴν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ πρόληψιν, ὁ δʼ οὔ; τῇ δὲ τῆς ἡδονῆς, τῇ δὲ τῆς ὑγείας;

[13] καθόλου γὰρ εἰ πάντες οἱ τὰ ὀνόματα λαλοῦντες μὴ κενῶς ἴσμεν ἕκαστα τούτων καὶ μηδεμιᾶς ἐπιμελείας περὶ τὴν διάρθρωσιν τῶν προλήψεων δεόμεθα, τί διαφερόμεθα, τί πολεμοῦμεν, τί ψέγομεν ἀλλήλους;

[14] καὶ τί μοι νῦν τὴν πρὸς ἀλλήλους μάχην παραφέρειν καὶ ταύτης μεμνῆσθαι; σὺ αὐτὸς εἰ ἐφαρμόζεις καλῶς τὰς προλήψεις, διὰ τί δυσροεῖς, διὰ τί ἐμποδίζῃ;

[15] ἀφῶμεν ἄρτι τὸν δεύτερον τόπον τὸν περὶ τὰς ὁρμὰς καὶ τὴν κατὰ ταύτας περὶ τὸ καθῆκον φιλοτεχνίαν. ἀφῶμεν καὶ τὸν τρίτον τὸν περὶ τὰς συγκαταθέσεις.

[16] χαρίζομαί σοι ταῦτα πάντα. στῶμεν ἐπὶ τοῦ πρώτου καὶ σχεδὸν αἰσθητὴν παρέχοντος τὴν ἀπόδειξιν τοῦ μὴ ἐφαρμόζειν καλῶς τὰς προλήψεις.

[17] νῦν σὺ θέλεις τὰ δυνατὰ καὶ τὰ σοὶ δυνατά; τί οὖν ἐμποδίζῃ; διὰ τί δυσροεῖς; νῦν οὐ φεύγεις τὰ ἀναγκαῖα; διὰ τί οὖν περιπίπτεις τινί, διὰ τί δυστυχεῖς; διὰ τί θέλοντός σού τι οὐ γίνεται καὶ μὴ θέλοντος γίνεται;

[18] ἀπόδειξις γὰρ αὕτη μεγίστη δυσροίας καὶ κακοδαιμονίας. θέλω τι καὶ οὐ γίνεται· καὶ τί ἐστιν ἀθλιώτερον ἐμοῦ; οὐ θέλω τι καὶ γίνεται· καὶ τί ἐστιν ἀθλιώτερον ἐμοῦ;

[19] τοῦτο καὶ ἡ Μήδεια οὐχ ὑπομείνασα ἦλθεν ἐπὶ τὸ ἀποκτεῖναι τὰ τέκνα. μεγαλοφυῶς κατά γε τοῦτο. εἶχε γὰρ ἣν δεῖ φαντασίαν, οἷόν ἐστι τὸ ἃ θέλει τινὶ μὴ προχωρεῖν.

[20] εἶτα οὕτως τιμωρήσομαι τὸν ἀδικήσαντά με καὶ ὑβρίσαντα. καὶ τί ὄφελος τοῦ κακῶς οὕτως διακειμένου; πῶς οὖν γένηται; ἀποκτείνω μὲν τὰ τέκνα. ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐμα υτὴν τιμωρήσομαι. καὶ τί μοι μέλει;

[21] τοῦτʼ ἔστιν ἔκπτωσις ψυχῆς μεγάλα νεῦρα ἐχούσης. οὐ γὰρ ᾔδει, ποῦ κεῖται τὸ ποιεῖν ἃ θέλομεν, ὅτι τοῦτο οὐκ ἔξωθεν δεῖ λαμβάνειν οὐδὲ τὰ πράγματα μετατιθέντα καὶ μεθαρμοζόμενον.

[22] μὴ θέλε τὸν ἄνδρα, καὶ οὐδὲν ὧν θέλεις οὐ γίνεται. μὴ θέλε αὐτὸν ἐξ ἅπαντός σοι συνοικεῖν, μὴ θέλε μένειν ἐν Κορίνθῳ καὶ ἁπλῶς μηδὲν ἄλλο θέλε ἢ ἃ ὁ θεὸς θέλει. καὶ τίς σε κωλύσει, τίς ἀναγκάσει; οὐ μᾶλλον ἢ τὸν Δία.

[23] ὅταν τοιοῦτον ἔχῃς ἡγεμόνα καὶ τοιούτῳ συνθέλῃς καὶ συνορέγῃ, τί φοβῇ ἔτι μὴ ἀποτύχῃς;

[24] χάρισαί σου τὴν ὄρεξιν καὶ τὴν ἔκκλισιν πενίᾳ καὶ πλούτῳ· ἀποτεύξῃ, περιπεσῇ. ἀλλʼ ὑγιείᾳ· δυστυχήσεις· ἀρχαῖς, τιμαῖς, πατρίδι, φίλοις, τέκνοις, ἁπλῶς ἄν τινι τῶν ἀπροαιρέτων. ἀλλὰ τῷ Διὶ χάρισαι αὐτάς, τοῖς ἄλλοις θεοῖς·

[25] ἐκείνοις παράδος, ἐκεῖνοι κυβερνάτωσαν, μετʼ ἐκείνων τετάχθωσαν· καὶ ποῦ ἔτι δυσροήσεις;

[26] εἰ δὲ φθονεῖς, ἀταλαίπωρε, καὶ ἐλεεῖς καὶ ζηλοτυπεῖς καὶ τρέμεις καὶ μίαν ἡμέραν οὐ διαλείπεις, ἐν ᾗ οὐ κατακλάεις καὶ σαυτοῦ καὶ τῶν θεῶν, καὶ τί ἔτι λέγεις πεπαιδεῦσθαι;

[27] ποίαν παιδείαν, ἄνθρωπε; ὅτι συλλογισμοὺς ἔπραξας, μεταπίπτοντας; οὐ θέλεις ἀπομαθεῖν, εἰ δυνατόν, πάντα ταῦτα καὶ ἄνωθεν ἄρξασθαι συναισθανόμενος ὅτι μέχρι νῦν οὐδʼ ἥψω τοῦ πράγματος,

[28] καὶ λοιπὸν ἔνθεν ἀρξάμενος προσοικοδομεῖν τὰ ἑξῆς, πῶς μηδὲν ἔσται σοῦ μὴ θέλοντος, θέλοντος μηδὲν οὐκ ἔσται;

[29] δότε μοι ἕνα νέον κατὰ ταύτην τὴν ἐπιβολὴν ἐληλυθότα εἰς σχολήν, τούτου τοῦ πράγματος ἀθλητὴν γενόμενον καὶ λέγοντα ὅτι ἐμοὶ τὰ μὲν ἄλλα πάντα χαιρέτω, ἀρκεῖ δʼ εἰ ἐξέσται ποτὲ ἀπαραποδίστῳ καὶ ἀλύπῳ διαγαγεῖν καὶ ἀνατεῖναι τὸν τράχηλον πρὸς τὰ πράγματα ὡς ἐλεύθερον καὶ εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν ἀναβλέπειν ὡς φίλον τοῦ θεοῦ μηδὲν φοβούμενον τῶν συμβῆναι δυναμένων. δειξάτω τις ὑμῶν αὐτὸν τοιοῦτον, ἵνα εἴπω·

[30] ἔρχου, νεανίσκε, εἰς τὰ σά· σοὶ γὰρ εἵμαρται κοσμῆσαι φιλοσοφίαν, σά ἐστι ταῦτα τὰ κτήματα, σὰ τὰ βιβλία, σοὶ οἱ λόγοι.

[31] εἶθʼ, ὅταν τοιοῦτον ἐκπονήσῃ καὶ καταθλήσῃ τὸν τόπον, πάλιν ἐλθών μοι εἰπάτω ἐγὼ θέλω μὲν καὶ ἀπαθὴς εἶναι καὶ ἀτάραχος, θέλω δʼ ὡς εὐσεβὴς καὶ φιλόσοφος καὶ ἐπιμελὴς εἰδέναι τί μοι πρὸς θεούς ἐστι καθῆκον, τί πρὸς γονεῖς, τί πρὸς ἀδελφούς, τί πρὸς τὴν πατρίδα, τί πρὸς ξένους.

[32] ἔρχου καὶ ἐπὶ τὸν δεύτερον τόπον· σός ἐστι καὶ οὗτος.

[33] ἀλλʼ ἤδη καὶ τὸν δεύτερον τόπον ἐκμεμελέτηκα. ἤθελον δʼ ἀσφαλῶς καὶ ἀσείστως καὶ οὐ μόνον ἐγρηγορώς, ἀλλὰ καὶ καθεύδων καὶ οἰνωμένος καὶ ἐν μελαγχολίᾳ. σὺ θεὸς εἶ, ὦ ἄνθρωπε, σὺ μεγάλας ἔχεις ἐπιβολάς.

[34] οὔ· ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ θέλω γνῶναι, τί λέγει Χρύσιππος ἐν τοῖς περὶ τοῦ Ψευδομένου. οὐκ ἀπάγξῃ μετὰ τῆς ἐπιβολῆς ταύτης, τάλας; καὶ τί σοι ὄφελος ἔσται; πενθῶν ἅπαν ἀναγνώσῃ καὶ τρέμων πρὸς ἄλλους ἐρεῖς.

[35] οὕτως καὶ ὑμεῖς ποιεῖτε. θέλεις ἀναγνῶ σοι, ἀδελφέ; καὶ σὺ ἐμοί. θαυμαστῶς, ἄνθρωπε, γράφεις· καὶ σὺ μεγάλως εἰς τὸν Ξενοφῶντος χαρακτῆρα, σὺ εἰς τὸν Πλάτωνος,

[36] σὺ εἰς τὸν Ἀντισθένους. εἶτʼ ἀλλήλοις ὀνείρους διηγησάμενοι πάλιν ἐπὶ ταὐτὰ ἐπανέρχεσθε· ὡσαύτως ὀρέγεσθε, ὡσαύτως ἐκκλίνετε, ὁμοίως ὁρμᾶτε, ἐπιβάλλεσθε, προ στίθεσθε, ταὐτὰ εὔχεσθε, περὶ ταὐτὰ σπουδάζετε. εἶτα οὐδὲ ζητεῖτε τὸν ὑπομνήσοντα ὑμᾶς,

[37] ἀλλʼ ἄχθεσθε, ἐὰν ἀκούητε τούτων. εἶτα λέγετε ἀφιλόστοργος γέρων· ἐξερχομένου μου οὐκ ἔκλαυσεν οὐδʼ εἶπεν 1εἰς οἵαν περίστασιν ἀπέρχῃ μοι, τέκνον· ἂν σωθῇς, ἅψω λύχνους. ταῦτʼ ἔστι τὰ τοῦ φιλοστόργου;

[38] μέγα σοι ἀγαθὸν ἔσται σωθέντι τοιούτῳ καὶ λύχνων ἄξιον. ἀθάνατον γὰρ εἶναί σε δεῖ καὶ ἄνοσον.

[39] ταύτην οὖν, ὅπερ λέγω, τὴν οἴησιν τὴν τοῦ δοκεῖν εἰδέναι τι τῶν χρησίμων ἀποβάλλοντας ἔρχεσθαι δεῖ πρὸς τὸν λόγον, ὡς πρὸς τὰ γεωμετρικὰ προσάγομεν, ὡς πρὸς τὰ μουσικά·

[40] εἰ δὲ μή, οὐδʼ ἐγγὺς ἐσόμεθα τῷ προκόψαι, κἂν πάσας τὰς εἰσαγωγὰς καὶ τὰς συντάξεις τὰς Χρυσίππου μετὰ τῶν Ἀντιπάτρου καὶ Ἀρχεδήμου διέλθωμεν.

πῶς ἀγωνιστέον πρὸς τὰς φαντασίας.

[1] πᾶσα ἕξις καὶ δύναμις ὑπὸ τῶν καταλλήλων ἔργων συνέχεται καὶ αὔξεται, ἡ περιπατητικὴ ὑπὸ τοῦ περιπατεῖν, ἡ τροχαστικὴ ὑπὸ τοῦ τρέχειν.

[2] ἂν θέλῃς ἀναγνωστικὸς εἶναι, ἀναγίγνωσκε· ἂν γραφικός, γράφε. ὅταν δὲ τριάκοντα ἐφεξῆς ἡμέρας μὴ ἀναγνῷς, ἀλλʼ ἄλλο τι πράξῃς, γνώσῃ τὸ γινόμενον.

[3] οὕτως κἂν ἀναπέσῃς δέκα ἡμέρας, ἀναστὰς ἐπιχείρησον μακροτέραν ὁδὸν περιπατῆσαι καὶ ὄψει, πῶς σου τὰ σκέλη παραλύεται.

[4] καθόλου οὖν εἴ τι ποιεῖν ἐθέλῃς, ἑκτικὸν ποίει αὐτό· εἴ τι μὴ ποιεῖν ἐθέλῃς, μὴ ποίει αὐτό, ἀλλʼ ἔθισον ἄλλο τι πράττειν μᾶλλον ἀντʼ αὐτοῦ.

[5] οὕτως ἔχει καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ψυχικῶν· ὅταν ὀργισθῇς, γίγνωσκε ὅτι οὐ μόνον σοι τοῦτο γέγονεν κακόν, ἀλλʼ ὅτι καὶ τὴν ἕξιν ηὔξησας καὶ ὡς πυρὶ φρύγανα παρέβαλες.

[6] ὅταν ἡττηθῇς τινος ἐν συνουσίᾳ, μὴ τὴν μίαν ἧτταν ταύτην λογίζου, ἀλλʼ ὅτι καὶ τὴν ἀκρασίαν σου τέτροφας, ἐπηύξησας.

[7] ἀδύνατον γὰρ ἀπὸ τῶν καταλλήλων ἔργων μὴ καὶ τὰς ἕξεις καὶ τὰς δυνάμεις τὰς μὲν ἐμφύεσθαι μὴ πρότερον οὔσας, τὰς δʼ ἐπιτείνεσθαι καὶ ἰσχυροποιεῖσθαι.

[8] οὕτως ἀμέλει καὶ τὰ ἀρρωστήματα ὑποφύεσθαι λέγουσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι. ὅταν γὰρ ἅπαξ ἐπιθυμήσῃς ἀργυρίου, ἂν μὲν προσαχθῇ λόγος εἰς αἴσθησιν ἄξ ιων τοῦ κακοῦ, πέπαυταί τε ἡ ἐπιθυμία καὶ τὸ ἡγεμονικὸν ἡμῶν εἰς τὸ ἐξαρχῆς ἀποκατέστη·

[9] ἐὰν δὲ μηδὲν προσαγάγῃς εἰς θεραπείαν, οὐκέτι εἰς ταὐτὰ ἐπάνεισιν, ἀλλὰ πάλιν ἐρεθισθὲν ὑπὸ τῆς καταλλήλου φαντασίας θᾶττον ἢ πρότερον ἐξήφθη πρὸς τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν. καὶ τούτου συνεχῶς γινομένου τυλοῦται λοιπὸν καὶ τὸ ἀρρώστημα βεβαιοῖ τὴν φιλαργυρίαν.

[10] ὁ γὰρ πυρέξας, εἶτα παυσάμενος οὐχ ὁμοίως ἔχει τῷ πρὸ τοῦ πυρέξαι, ἂν μή τι θεραπευθῇ εἰς ἅπαν.

[11] τοιοῦτόν τι καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν τῆς ψυχῆς παθῶν γίνεται. ἴχνη τινὰ καὶ μώλωπες ἀπολείπονται ἐν αὐτῇ, οὓς εἰ μή τις ἐξαλείψῃ καλῶς, πάλιν κατὰ τῶν αὐτῶν μαστιγωθεὶς οὐκέτι μώλωπας, ἀλλʼ ἕλκη ποιεῖ.

[12] εἰ οὖν θέλεις μὴ εἶναι ὀργίλος, μὴ τρέφε σου τὴν ἕξιν, μηδὲν αὐτῇ παράβαλλε αὐξητικόν. τὴν πρώτην ἡσύχασον καὶ τὰς ἡμέρας ἀρίθμει ἃς οὐκ ὠργίσθης.

[13] καθʼ ἡμέραν εἰώθειν ὀργίζεσθαι, νῦν παρʼ ἡμέραν, εἶτα παρὰ δύο, εἶτα παρὰ τρεῖς. ἂν δὲ καὶ τριάκοντα παραλίπῃς, ἐπίθυσον τῷ θεῷ. ἡ γὰρ ἕξις ἐκλύεται τὴν πρώτην, εἶτα καὶ παντελῶς ἀναιρεῖται.

[14] σήμερον οὐκ ἐλυπήθην οὐδʼ αὔριον οὐδʼ ἐφεξῆς διμήνῳ καὶ τριμήνῳ· ἀλλὰ προσέσχον γενομένων τινῶν ἐρεθιστικῶν. γίγνωσκε ὅτι κομψῶς σοί ἐστιν.

[15] σήμερον καλὸν ἰδὼν ἢ καλὴν οὐκ εἶπον αὐτὸς ἐμαυτῷ ὅτι ὤφελόν τις μετὰ ταύτης ἐκοιμήθη καὶ μακάριος ὁ ἀνὴρ αὐτῆς· ὁ γὰρ τοῦτʼ εἰπὼν μακάριος καὶ ὁ μοιχός·

[16] οὐδὲ τὰ ἑξῆς ἀναζωγραφῶ, παροῦσαν αὐτὴν καὶ ἀποδυομένην καὶ παρακατακλινομένην.

[17] καταψῶ τὴν κορυφήν μου καὶ λέγω· εὖ, Ἐπίκτητε, κομψὸν σοφισμάτιον ἔλυσας, πολλῷ κομψότερον τοῦ Κυριεύοντος.

[18] ἂν δὲ καὶ βουλομένου τοῦ γυναικαρίου καὶ νεύοντος καὶ προσπέμποντος, ἂν δὲ καὶ ἁπτομένου καὶ συνεγγίζοντος ἀπόσχωμαι καὶ νικήσω, τοῦτο μὲν ἤδη τὸ σόφισμα ὑπὲρ τὸν Ψευδόμενον, ὑπὲρ τὸν Ἡσυχάζοντα. ἐπὶ τούτῳ καὶ μέγα φρονεῖν ἄξιον, οὐκ ἐπὶ τῷ τὸν Κυριεύοντα ἐρωτῆσαι.

[19] πῶς οὖν γένηται τοῦτο; θέλησον ἀρέσαι αὐτός ποτε σεαυτῷ, θέλησον καλὸς φανῆναι τῷ θεῷ· ἐπιθύμησον καθαρὸς μετὰ καθαροῦ σαυτοῦ γενέσθαι καὶ μετὰ τοῦ θεοῦ.

[20] εἶθʼ ὅταν προσπίπτῃ σοί τις φαντασία τοιαύτη, Πλάτων μὲν ὅτι ἴθι ἐπὶ τὰς ἀποδιοπομπήσεις, ἴθι ἐπὶ θεῶν ἀποτροπαίων ἱερὰ ἱκέτης·

[21] ἀρκεῖ κἂν ἐπὶ τὰς τῶν καλῶν καὶ ἀγαθῶν ἀνδρῶν συνουσίας ἀποχωρήσας πρὸς τούτῳ γίνῃ ἀντεξετάζων, ἄν τε τῶν ζώντων τινὰ ἔχῃς ἄν τε τῶν ἀποθανόντων.

[22] ἄπελθε πρὸς Σωκράτη καὶ ἴδε αὐτὸν συγκατακείμενον Ἀλκιβιάδῃ καὶ διαπαίζοντα αὐτοῦ τὴν ὥραν. ἐνθυμήθητι οἵαν νίκην ποτὲ ἔγνω ἐκεῖνος νενικηκότα ἑαυτόν, οἷα Ὀλύμπια, πόστος ἀφʼ Ἡρακλέους ἐγένετο· ἵνα τις, νὴ τοὺς θεούς, δικαίως ἀσπάζηται αὐτὸν χαῖρε, παράδοξε, οὐχὶ τοὺς σαπροὺς τούτους πύκτας καὶ παγκρατιαστὰς οὐδὲ τοὺς ὁμοίους αὐτοῖς, τοὺς μονομάχους.

[23] ταῦτα ἀντιθεὶς νικήσεις τὴν φαντασίαν, οὐχ ἑλκυσθήσῃ ὑπʼ αὐτῆς.

[24] τὸ πρῶτον δʼ ὑπὸ τῆς ὀξύτητος μὴ συναρπασθῇς, ἀλλʼ εἰπὲ ἔκδεξαί με μικρόν, φαντασία· ἄφες ἴδω τίς εἶ καὶ περὶ τίνος, ἄφες σε δοκιμάσω.

[25] καὶ τὸ λοιπὸν μὴ ἐφῇς αὐτῇ προάγειν ἀναζωγραφούσῃ τὰ ἑξῆς. εἰ δὲ μή, οἴχεταί σε ἔχουσα ὅπου ἂν θέλῃ. ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἄλλην τινὰ ἀντεισάγαγε καλὴν καὶ γενναίαν φαντασίαν καὶ ταύτην τὴν ῥυπαρὰν ἔκβαλε.

[26] κἂν ἐθισθῇς οὕτως γυμνάζεσθαι, ὄψει, οἷοι ὦμοι γίνονται, οἷα νεῦρα, οἷοι τόνοι· νῦν δὲ μόνον τὰ λογάρια καὶ πλέον οὐδὲ ἕν.

[27] οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ ταῖς ἀληθείαις ἀσκητὴς ὁ πρὸς τὰς τοιαύτας φαντασίας γυμνάζων ἑαυτόν.

[28] μεῖνον, τάλας, μὴ συναρπασθῇς. μέγας ὁ ἀγών ἐστιν, θεῖον τὸ ἔργον, ὑπὲρ βασιλείας, ὑπὲρ ἐλευθερίας, ὑπὲρ εὐροίας, ὑπὲρ ἀταραξίας.

[29] τοῦ θεοῦ μέμνησο, ἐκεῖνον ἐπικαλοῦ βοηθὸν καὶ παραστάτην ὡς τοὺς Διοσκόρους ἐν χειμῶνι οἱ πλέοντες. ποῖος γὰρ μείζων χειμὼν ἢ ὁ ἐκ φαντασιῶν ἰσχυρῶν καὶ ἐκκρουστικῶν τοῦ λόγου; αὐτὸς γὰρ ὁ χειμὼν τί ἄλλο ἐστὶν ἢ φαντασία;

[30] ἐπεί τοι ἆρον τὸν φόβον τοῦ θανάτου καὶ φέρε ὅσας θέλεις βροντὰς καὶ ἀστραπὰς καὶ γνώσῃ, ὅση γαλήνη ἐστὶν ἐν τῷ ἡγεμονικῷ καὶ εὐδία.

[31] ἂν δʼ ἅπαξ ἡττηθεὶς εἴπῃς ὅτι ὕστερον νικήσεις, εἶτα πάλιν τὸ αὐτό, ἴσθι ὅτι οὕτως ποθʼ ἕξεις κακῶς καὶ ἀσθενῶς, ὥστε μηδʼ ἐφιστάνειν ὕστερον ὅτι ἁμαρτάνεις, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀπολογίας ἄρξῃ πορίζειν ὑπὲρ τοῦ πράγματος·

[32] καὶ τότε βεβαιώσεις τὸ τοῦ Ἡσιόδου, ὅτι ἀληθές ἐστιν

αἰεὶ δʼ ἀμβολιεργὸς ἀνὴρ ἄτῃσι παλαίει.

πρὸς τοὺς μέχρι λόγου μόνον ἀναλαμβάνοντας τὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων.

[1] ὁ κυριεύων λόγος ἀπὸ τοιούτων τινῶν ἀφορμῶν ἠρωτῆσθαι φαίνεται· κοινῆς γὰρ οὔσης μάχης τοῖς τρισὶ τούτοις πρὸς ἄλληλα, τῷ τὸ πᾶν παρεληλυθὸς ἀληθὲς ἀναγκαῖον εἶναι καὶ τῷ ἀδυνατῷ ἀδύνατον μὴ ἀκολουθεῖν καὶ τῷ ** δυνατὸν εἶναι ὃ οὔτʼ ἔστιν ἀληθὲς οὔτʼ ἔσται, συνιδὼν τὴν μάχην ταύτην ὁ Διόδωρος τῇ τῶν πρώτων δυεῖν πιθανότητι συνεχρήσατο πρὸς παράστασιν τοῦ μηδὲν εἶναι δυνατόν, ὃ οὔτʼ ἔστιν ἀληθὲς οὔτʼ ἔσται.

[2] λοιπὸν ὁ μέν τις ταῦτα τηρήσει τῶν δυεῖν, ὅτι ἔστι τέ τι δυνατόν, ὃ οὔτʼ ἔστιν ἀληθὲς οὔτʼ ἔσται, καὶ δυνατῷ ἀδύνατον οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ· οὐ πᾶν δὲ παρεληλυθὸς ἀληθὲς ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστιν, καθάπερ οἱ περὶ Κλεάνθην φέρεσθαι δοκοῦσιν, οἷς ἐπὶ πολὺ συνηγόρησεν Ἀντίπατρος.

[3] οἱ δὲ τἆλλα δύο, ὅτι δυνατόν τʼ ἐστίν, ὃ οὔτʼ ἔστιν ἀληθὲς οὔτʼ ἔσται, καὶ πᾶν παρεληλυθὸς ἀληθὲς ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστιν, δυνατῷ δʼ ἀδύνατον ἀκολουθεῖ.

[4] τὰ τρία δʼ ἐκεῖνα τηρῆσαι ἀμήχανον διὰ τὸ κοινὴν εἶναι αὐτῶν μάχην.

[5] ἂν οὖν τίς μου πύθηται σὺ δὲ ποῖα αὐτῶν τηρεῖς; ἀποκρινοῦμαι πρὸς αὐτὸν ὅτι οὐκ οἶδα· παρείληφα δʼ ἱστορίαν τοιαύτην, ὅτι Διόδωρος μὲν ἐκεῖνα ἐτήρει, οἱ δὲ περὶ Πανθοίδην οἶμαι καὶ Κλεάνθην τὰ ἄλλα, οἱ δὲ περὶ Χρύσιππον τὰ ἄλλα.

[6] σὺ οὖν τί; οὐδὲ γέγονα πρὸς τούτῳ, τῷ βασανίσαι τὴν ἐμαυτοῦ φαντασίαν καὶ συγκρῖναι τὰ λεγόμενα καὶ δόγμα τι ἐμαυτοῦ ποιήσασθαι κατὰ τὸν τόπον. διὰ τοῦτο οὐδὲν διαφέρω τοῦ γραμματικοῦ.

[7] τίς ἦν ὁ τοῦ Ἕκτορος πατήρ; Πρίαμος. τίνες ἀδελφοί; Ἀλέξανδρος καὶ Δηίφοβος. μήτηρ δʼ αὐτῶν τίς; Ἑκάβη. παρείληφα ταύτην τὴν ἱστορίαν. παρὰ τίνος; παρʼ Ὁμήρου. γράφει δὲ περὶ τῶν αὐτῶν δοκῶ καὶ Ἑλλάνικος καὶ εἴ τις ἄλλος τοιοῦτος.

[8] κἀγὼ περὶ τοῦ Κυριεύοντος τί ἄλλο ἔχω ἀνωτέρω; ἀλλʼ ἂν ὦ κενός, μάλιστα ἐπὶ συμποσίῳ καταπλήσσομαι τοὺς παρόντας ἐξαριθμούμενος τοὺς γεγραφότας.

[9] γέγραφεν δὲ καὶ Χρύσιππος θαυμαστῶς ἐν τῷ πρώτῳ περὶ Δυνατῶν. καὶ Κλεάνθης δʼ ἰδίᾳ γέγραφεν περὶ τούτου καὶ Ἀρχέδημος. γέγραφεν δὲ καὶ Ἀντίπατρος, οὐ μόνον δʼ ἐν τοῖς περὶ Δυνατῶν, ἀλλὰ καὶ κατʼ ἰδίαν ἐν τοῖς περὶ τοῦ Κυριεύοντος. οὐκ ἀνέγνωκας τὴν σύνταξιν;

[10] οὐκ ἀνέγνωκα. ἀνάγνωθι. καὶ τί ὠφεληθήσεται; φλυαρότερος ἔσται καὶ ἀκαιρότερος ἢ νῦν ἐστιν. σοὶ γὰρ τί ἄλλο προσγέγονεν ἀναγνόντι; ποῖον δόγμα πεποίησαι κατὰ τὸν τόπον; ἀλλʼ ἐρεῖς ἡμῖν Ἑλένην καὶ Πρίαμον καὶ τὴν τῆς Καλυψοῦς νῆσον τὴν οὔτε γενομένην οὔτʼ ἐσομένην.

[11] καὶ ἐνταῦθα μὲν οὐδὲν μέγα τῆς ἱστορίας κρατεῖν, ἴδιον δὲ δόγμα μηδὲν πεποιῆσθαι. ἐπὶ τῶν ἠθικῶν δὲ πάσχομεν αὐτὸ πολὺ μᾶλλον ἢ ἐπὶ τούτων.

[12] εἰπέ μοι περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν. ἄκουε·

Ἰλιόθεν με φέρων ἄνεμος Κικόνεσσι πέλασσεν.

τῶν ὄντων τὰ μέν ἐστιν ἀγαθά,

[13] τὰ δὲ κακά, τὰ δʼ ἀδιάφορα. ἀγαθὰ μὲν οὖν αἱ ἀρεταὶ καὶ τὰ μετέχοντα αὐτῶν, κακὰ δὲ κακίαι καὶ τὰ μετέχοντα κακίας, ἀδιάφορα δὲ τὰ μεταξὺ τούτων, πλοῦτος, ὑγίεια, ζωή, θάνατος, ἡδονή, πόνος.

[14] πόθεν οἶδας; Ἑλλάνικος λέγει ἐν τοῖς Αἰγυπτιακοῖς. τί γὰρ διαφέρει τοῦτο εἰπεῖν ἢ ὅτι Διογένης ἐν τῇ Ἠθικῇ ἢ Χρύσιππος ἢ Κλεάνθης; βεβασάνικας οὖν τι αὐτῶν καὶ δόγμα σεαυτοῦ πεποίησαι;

[15] δείκνυε πῶς εἴωθας ἐν πλοίῳ χειμάζεσθαι. μέμνησαι ταύτης τῆς διαιρέσεως, ὅταν ψοφήσῃ τὸ ἱστίον καὶ ἀνακραυγάσαντί σοι κακόσχολός πως παραστὰς εἴπῃ λέγε μοι τοὺς θεούς σοι ἃ πρῴην ἔλεγες· μή τι κακία ς ἐστὶ τὸ ναυαγῆσαι, μή τι κακίας μετέχον;

[16] οὐκ ἄρας ξύλον ἐνσείσεις αὐτῷ; τί ἡμῖν καὶ σοί, ἄνθρωπε; ἀπολλύμεθα καὶ σὺ ἐλθὼν παίζεις.

[17] ἂν δέ σε ὁ Καῖσαρ μεταπέμψηται κατηγορούμενον, μέμνησαι τῆς διαιρέσεως, ἄν τίς σοι εἰσιόντι καὶ ὠχριῶντι ἅμα καὶ τρέμοντι προσελθὼν εἴπῃ τί τρέμεις, ἄνθρωπε; περὶ τίνων σοί ἐστιν ὁ λόγος; μή τι ἔσω ὁ Καῖσαρ ἀρετὴν καὶ κακίαν τοῖς εἰσερχομένοις δίδωσι;

[18] τί μοι ἐμπαίζεις καὶ σὺ πρὸς τοῖς ἐμοῖς κακοῖς; ὅμως, φιλόσοφε, εἰπέ μοι, τί τρέμεις; οὐχὶ θάνατός ἐστι τὸ κινδυνευόμενον ἢ δεσμωτήριον ἢ πόνος τοῦ σώματος ἢ φυγὴ ἢ ἀδοξία; τί γὰρ ἄλλο; μή τι κακία, μή τι μέτοχον κακίας; σὺ οὖν τίνα ταῦτα ἔλεγες;

[19] τί ἐμοὶ καὶ σοί, ἄνθρωπε; ἀρκεῖ ἐμοὶ τὰ ἐμὰ κακά. καὶ καλῶς λέγεις. ἀρκεῖ γάρ σοι τὰ σὰ κακά, ἡ ἀγέννεια, ἡ δειλία, ἡ ἀλαζονεία, ἣν ἠλαζονεύου ἐν τῇ σχολῇ καθήμενος. τί τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις ἐκαλλωπίζου; τί Στωικὸν ἔλεγες σεαυτόν;

[20] Τηρεῖτε οὕτως ἑαυτοὺς ἐν οἷς ἐπράσσετε καὶ εὑρήσετε τίνος ἔσθʼ αἱρέσεως. τοὺς πλείστους ὑμῶν Ἐπικουρείους εὑρήσετε, ὀλίγους τινὰς Περιπατητικοὺς καὶ τούτους ἐκλελυμένους.

[21] ποῦ γὰρ ἵνʼ ὑμεῖς τὴν ἀρετὴν πᾶσιν τοῖς ἄλλοις ἴσην ἢ καὶ κρείττονα ἔργῳ ὑπολάβητε; Στωικὸν δὲ δείξατέ μοι, εἴ τινα ἔχητε.

[22] ποῦ ἢ πῶς; ἀλλὰ τὰ λογάρια τὰ Στωικὰ λέγοντας μυρίους. τὰ γὰρ Ἐπικούρεια αὐτοὶ οὗτοι χεῖρον λέγουσι; τὰ γὰρ Περιπατητικὰ οὐ καὶ αὐτὰ ὁμοίως ἀκριβοῦσιν;

[23] τίς οὖν ἐστι Στωικός; ὡς λέγομεν ἀνδριάντα Φειδιακὸν τὸν τετυπωμένον κατὰ τὴν τέχνην τὴν Φειδίου, οὕτως τινά μοι δείξατε κατὰ τὰ δόγματα ἃ λαλεῖ τετυπωμένον.

[24] δείξατέ μοί τινα νοσοῦντα καὶ εὐτυχοῦντα, κινδυνεύοντα καὶ εὐτυχοῦντα, ἀποθνῄσκοντα καὶ εὐτυχοῦντα, πεφυγαδευμένον καὶ εὐτυχοῦντα, ἀδοξοῦντα καὶ εὐτυχοῦντα. δείξατʼ· ἐπιθυμῶ τινα νὴ τοὺς θεοὺς ἰδεῖν Στωικόν.

[25] ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἔχετε τὸν τετυπωμένον δεῖξαι· τόν γε τυπούμενον δείξατε, τὸν ἐπὶ ταῦτα κεκλικότα. εὐεργετήσατέ με· μὴ φθονήσητε ἀνθρώπῳ γέροντι ἰδεῖν θέαμα, ὃ μέχρι νῦν οὐκ εἶδον.

[26] οἴεσθε ὅτι τὸν Δία τὸν Φειδίου δείξετε ἢ τὴν Ἀθηνᾶν, ἐλεφάντινον καὶ χρυσοῦν κατασκεύασμα. ψυχὴν δειξάτω τις ὑμῶν ἀνθρώπου θέλοντος ὁμογνωμονῆσαι τῷ θεῷ καὶ μηκέτι μήτε θεὸν μήτʼ ἄνθρωπον μέμφεσθαι, μὴ ἀποτυχεῖν τινος, μὴ περιπεσεῖν τινι, μὴ ὀργισθῆναι, μὴ φθονῆσαι, μὴ ζηλοτυπῆσαι (τί γὰρ δεῖ περιπλέκειν;

[27] ), θεὸν ἐξ ἀνθρώπου ἐπιθυμοῦντα γενέσθαι καὶ ἐν τῷ σωματίῳ τούτῳ τῷ νεκρῷ περὶ τῆς πρὸς τὸν Δία κοινωνίας βουλευόμενον. δείξατε. ἀλλὰ οὐκ ἔχετε. τί οὖν αὑτοῖς ἐμπαίζετε καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους κυβεύετε;

[28] καὶ περιθέμενοι σχῆμα ἀλλότριον περιπατεῖτε κλέπται καὶ λωποδύται τούτων τῶν οὐδὲν προσηκόντων ὀνομάτων καὶ πραγμάτων;

[29] καὶ νῦν ἐγὼ μὲν παιδευτής εἰμι ὑμέτερος, ὑμεῖς δὲ παρʼ ἐμοὶ παιδεύεσθε. κἀγὼ μὲν ἔχω ταύτην τὴν ἐπιβολήν, ἀποτελέσαι ὑμᾶς ἀκωλύτους, ἀναναγκάστους, ἀπαραποδίστους, ἐλευθέρους, εὐροοῦντας, εὐδαιμονοῦντας, εἰς τὸν θεὸν ἀφορῶντας ἐν παντὶ καὶ μικρῷ καὶ μεγάλῳ· ὑμεῖς δὲ ταῦτα μαθησόμενοι καὶ μελετήσοντες πάρεστε.

[30] διὰ τί οὖν οὐκ ἀνύετε τὸ ἔργον, εἰ καὶ ὑμεῖς ἔχετʼ ἐπιβολὴν οἵαν δεῖ κἀγὼ πρὸς τῇ ἐπιβολῇ καὶ παρασκευὴν οἵαν δεῖ;

[31] τί τὸ λεῖπόν ἐστιν; ὅταν ἴδω τέκτονα, ὅτῳ ὕλη πάρεστιν παρακειμένη, ἐκδέχομαι τὸ ἔργον. καὶ ἐνθάδε τοίνυν ὁ τέκτων ἐστίν, ἡ ὕλη ἐστίν· τί ἡμῖν λείπει;

[32] οὐκ ἔστι διδακτὸν τὸ πρᾶγμα; διδακτόν. οὐκ ἔστιν οὖν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν; μόνον μὲν οὖν τῶν ἄλλων πάντων. οὔτε πλοῦτός ἐστιν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν οὔθʼ ὑγίεια οὔτε δόξα οὔτε ἄλλο τι ἁπλῶς πλὴν ὀρθὴ χρῆσις φαντασιῶν. τοῦτο ἀκώλυτον φύσει μόνον, τοῦτο ἀνεμπόδιστον.

[33] διὰ τί οὖν οὐκ ἀνύετε; εἴπατέ μοι τὴν αἰτίαν. ἢ γὰρ παρʼ ἐμὲ γίνεται ἢ παρʼ ὑμᾶς ἢ παρὰ τὴν φύσιν τοῦ πράγματος. αὐτὸ τὸ πρᾶγμα ἐνδεχόμενον καὶ μόνον ἐφʼ ἡμῖν. λοιπὸν οὖν ἢ παρʼ ἐμέ ἐστιν ἢ παρʼ ὑμᾶς ἤ, ὅπερ ἀληθέστερον, παρʼ ἀμφοτέρους. τί οὖν;

[34] θέλετε ἀρξώμεθά ποτε τοιαύτην ἐπιβολὴν κομίζειν ἐνταῦθα; τὰ μέχρι νῦν ἀφῶμεν. ἀρξώμεθα μόνον, πιστεύσατέ μοι, καὶ ὄψεσθε.

πρὸς Ἐπικουρείους καὶ Ἀκαδημαικούς.

[1] τοῖς ὑγιέσι καὶ ἐναργέσιν ἐξ ἀνάγκης καὶ οἱ ἀντιλέγοντες προσχρῶνται. καὶ σχεδὸν τοῦτο μέγιστον ἄν τις ποιήσαιτο τεκμήριον τοῦ ἐναργές τι εἶναι, τὸ ἐπάναγκες εὑρίσκεσθαι καὶ τῷ ἀντιλέγοντι συγχρήσασθαι αὐτῷ·

[2] οἷον εἴ τις ἀντιλέγοι τῷ εἶναί τι καθολικὸν ἀληθές, δῆλον ὅτι τὴν ἐναντίαν ἀπόφασιν οὗτος ὀφείλει ποιήσασθαι· οὐδέν ἐστι καθολικὸν ἀληθές. ἀνδράποδον, οὐδὲ τοῦτο.

[3] τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἐστὶ τοῦτο ἢ οἷον εἴ τι ἔστι καθολικόν, ψεῦδός ἐστιν;

[4] πάλιν ἄν τις παρελθὼν λέγῃ γίγνωσκε, ὅτι οὐδέν ἐστι γνωστόν, ἀλλὰ πάντα ἀτέκμαρτα ἢ ἄλλος ὅτι πίστευσόν μοι καὶ ὠφεληθήσῃ· οὐδὲν δεῖ ἀνθρώπῳ πιστεύειν ἢ πάλιν ἄλλος μάθε παρʼ ἐμοῦ, ἄνθρωπε, ὅτι οὐδὲν ἐνδέχεται μαθεῖν· ἐγώ σοι λέγω τοῦτο καὶ διδάξω σε, ἐὰν θέλῃς·

[5] τίνι οὖν τούτων διαφέρουσιν οὗτοι — τίνες ποτέ; — οἱ Ἀκαδημαικοὺς αὑτοὺς λέγοντες; ὦ ἄνθρωποι, συγκατάθεσθε ὅτι οὐδεὶς συγκατατίθεται· πιστεύσατε ἡμῖν ὅτι οὐδεὶς πιστεύει οὐδενί.

[6] οὕτως καὶ Ἐπίκουρος, ὅταν ἀναιρεῖν θέλῃ τὴν φυσικὴν κοινωνίαν ἀνθρώποις πρὸς ἀλλήλους, αὐτῷ τῷ ἀναιρουμένῳ συγχρῆται.

[7] τί γὰρ λέγει; μὴ ἐξαπατᾶσθε, ἄνθρωποι, μηδὲ παράγεσθε μηδὲ διαπίπτετε· οὐκ ἔστι φυσικὴ κοινωνία τοῖς λογικοῖς πρὸς ἀλλήλους· πιστεύσατέ μοι. οἱ δὲ τὰ ἕτερα λέγοντες ἐξαπατῶσιν ὑμᾶς καὶ παραλογίζονται.

[8] τί οὖν σοι μέλει; ἄφες ἡμᾶς ἐξαπατηθῆναι. μή τι χεῖρον ἀπαλλάξεις, ἂν πάντες οἱ ἄλλοι πεισθῶμεν, ὅτι φυσική ἐστιν ἡμῖν κοινωνία πρὸς ἀλλήλους καὶ ταύτην δεῖ παντὶ τρόπῳ φυλάσσειν; καὶ πολὺ κρεῖσσον καὶ ἀσφαλέστερον.

[9] ἄνθρωπε, τί ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν φροντίζεις, τί διʼ ἡμᾶς ἀγρυπνεῖς, τί λύχνον ἅπτεις, τί ἐπανίστασαι, τί τηλικαῦτα βιβλία συγγράφεις; μή τις ἡμῶν ἐξαπατηθῇ περὶ θεῶν ὡς ἐπιμελουμένων ἀνθρώπων ἢ μή τις ἄλλην οὐσίαν ὑπολάβῃ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἢ ἡδονήν;

[10] εἰ γὰρ οὕτως ταῦτα ἔχει, βαλὼν κάθευδε καὶ τὰ τοῦ σκώληκος ποίει, ὧν ἄξιον ἔκρινας σεαυτόν· ἔσθιε καὶ πῖνε καὶ συνουσίαζε καὶ ἀφόδευε καὶ ῥέγκε.

[11] τί δὲ σοὶ μέλει, πῶς οἱ ἄλλοι ὑπολήψονται περὶ τούτων, πότερον ὑγιῶς ἢ οὐχ ὑγιῶς; τί γὰρ σοὶ καὶ ἡμῖν; τῶν γὰρ προβάτων σοι μέλει, ὅτι παρέχει ἡμῖν αὑτὰ καρησόμενα καὶ ἀμελχθησόμενα καὶ τὸ τελευταῖον κατακοπησόμενα;

[12] οὐχὶ δʼ εὐκταῖον ἦν, εἰ ἐδύναντο οἱ ἄνθρωποι κατακηληθέντες καὶ ἐπᾳσθέντες ὑπὸ τῶν Στωικῶν ἀπονυστάζειν καὶ παρέχειν σοι καὶ τοῖς ὁμοίοις καρησομένους καὶ ἀμελχθησομένους ἑαυτούς;

[13] πρὸς γὰρ τοὺς Συνεπικουρείους ἔδει σε ταῦτα λέγειν, οὐχὶ δὲ πρὸς ἐκείνους ἀποκρύπτεσθαι, πολὺ μάλιστʼ ἐκείνους πρὸ πάντων ἀναπείθειν, ὅτι φύσει κοινωνικοὶ γεγόναμεν, ὅτι ἀγαθὸν ἡ ἐγκράτεια, ἵνα σοι πάντα τηρῆται;

[14] ἢ πρός τινας μὲν δεῖ φυλάττειν ταύτην τὴν κοινωνίαν, πρός τινας δʼ οὔ; πρὸς τίνας οὖν δεῖ τηρεῖν; πρὸς τοὺς ἀντιτηροῦντας ἢ πρὸς τοὺς παραβατικῶς αὐτῆς ἔχοντας; καὶ τίνες παραβατικώτερον αὐτῆς ἔχουσιν ὑμῶν τῶν ταῦτα διειληφότων;

[15] τί οὖν ἦν τὸ ἐγεῖρον αὐτὸν ἐκ τῶν ὕπνων καὶ ἀναγκάζον γράφειν ἃ ἔγραφεν; τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἢ τὸ πάντων τῶν ἐν ἀνθρώποις ἰσχυρότατον, ἡ φύσις ἕλκουσα ἐπὶ τὸ αὑτῆς βούλημα ἄκοντα καὶ στένοντα;

[16] ὅτι γὰρ δοκεῖ σοι ταῦτα τὰ ἀκοινώνητα, γράψον αὐτὰ καὶ ἄλλοις ἀπόλιπε καὶ ἀγρύπνησον διʼ αὐτὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἔργῳ κατήγορος γενοῦ τῶν σαυτοῦ δογμάτων.

[17] εἶτα Ὀρέστην μὲν ὑπὸ Ἐρινύων ἐλαυνόμενον φῶμεν ἐκ τῶν ὕπνων ἐξεγείρεσθαι· τούτῳ δʼ οὐ χαλεπώτεραι αἱ Ἐρινύες καὶ Ποιναί; ἐξήγειρον καθεύδοντα καὶ οὐκ εἴων ἠρεμεῖν, ἀλλʼ ἠνάγκαζον ἐξαγγέλλειν τὰ αὑτοῦ κακὰ ὥσπερ τοὺς Γάλλους ἡ μανία καὶ ὁ οἶνος.

[18] οὕτως ἰσχυρόν τι καὶ ἀνίκητόν ἐστιν ἡ φύσις ἡ ἀνθρωπίνη. πῶς γὰρ δύναται ἄμπελος μὴ ἀμπελικῶς κινεῖσθαι, ἀλλʼ ἐλαικῶς, ἢ ἐλαία πάλιν μὴ ἐλαικῶς, ἀλλʼ ἀμπελικῶς; ἀμήχανον, ἀδιανόητον.

[19] οὐ τοίνυν οὐδʼ ἄνθρωπον οἷόν τε παντελῶς ἀπολέσαι τὰς κινήσεις τὰς ἀνθρωπικὰς καὶ οἱ ἀποκοπτόμενοι τάς γε προθυμίας τὰς τῶν ἀνδρῶν ἀποκόψασθαι οὐ δύνανται.

[20] οὕτως καὶ Ἐπίκουρος τὰ μὲν ἀνδρὸς πάντʼ ἀπεκόψατο καὶ τὰ οἰκοδεσπότου καὶ πολίτου καὶ φίλου, τὰς δὲ προθυμίας τὰς ἀνθρωπικὰς οὐκ ἀπεκόψατο· οὐ γὰρ ἠδύνατο, οὐ μᾶλλον ἢ οἱ ἀταλαίπωροι Ἀκαδημαικοὶ τὰς αἰσθήσεις τὰς αὑτῶν ἀποβαλεῖν ἢ ἀποτυφλῶσαι δύνανται καίτοι τοῦτο μάλιστα πάντων ἐσπουδακότες.

[21] τίς ἢ ἀτυχίας; λαβών τις παρὰ τῆς φύσεως μέτρα καὶ κανόνας εἰς ἐπίγνωσιν τῆς ἀληθείας οὐ προσφιλοτεχνεῖ τούτοις προσθεῖναι καὶ προσεξεργάσασθαι τὰ λείποντα, ἀλλὰ πᾶν τοὐναντίον, εἴ τι καὶ ἔχει γνωριστικὸν τῆς ἀληθείας, ἐξαιρεῖν πειρᾶται καὶ ἀπολλύειν.

[22] τί λέγεις, φιλόσοφε; τὸ εὐσεβὲς καὶ τὸ ὅσιον ποῖόν τί σοι φαίνεται; ἂν θέλῃς, κατασκευάσω ὅτι ἀγαθόν. ναὶ κατασκεύασον, ἵνʼ οἱ πολῖται ἡμῶν ἐπιστραφέντες τιμῶσι τὸ θεῖον καὶ παύσωνταί ποτε ῥᾳθυμοῦντες περὶ τὰ μέγιστα. ἔχεις οὖν τὰς κατασκευάς; ἔχω καὶ χάριν οἶδα.

[23] ἐπεὶ οὖν ταῦτά σοι λίαν ἀρέσκει, λάβε τὰ ἐναντία· ὅτι θεοὶ οὔτʼ εἰσίν, εἴ τε καὶ εἰσίν, οὐκ ἐπιμελοῦνται ἀνθρώπων οὐδὲ κοινόν τι ἡμῖν ἐστι πρὸς αὐτοὺς τό τʼ εὐσεβὲς τοῦτο καὶ ὅσιον παρὰ τοῖς πολλοῖς ἀνθρώποις λαλούμενον κατάψευσμά ἐστιν ἀλαζόνων ἀνθρώπων καὶ σοφιστῶν ἢ νὴ Δία νομοθετῶν εἰς φόβον καὶ ἐπίσχεσιν τῶν ἀδικούντων.

[24] εὖ, φιλόσοφε· ὠφέλησας ἡμῶν τοὺς πολίτας, ἀνεκτήσω τοὺς νέους ῥέποντας ἤδη πρὸς καταφρόνησιν τῶν θείων.

[25] τί οὖν; οὐκ ἀρέσκει σοι ταῦτα; λάβε νῦν, πῶς ἡ δικαιοσύνη οὐδέν ἐστιν, πῶς ἡ αἰδὼς μωρία ἐστίν, πῶς πατὴρ οὐδέν ἐστιν, πῶς ὁ υἱὸς οὐδέν ἐστιν.

[26] εὖ, φιλόσοφε· ἐπίμενε, πεῖθε τοὺς νέους, ἵνα πλείονας ἔχωμεν ταὐτά σοι πεπονθότας καὶ λέγοντας. ἐκ τούτων τῶν λόγων ηὐξήθησαν ἡμῖν αἱ εὐνομούμεναι πόλεις, Λακεδαίμων διὰ τούτους τοὺς λόγους ἐγένετο, Λυκοῦργος ταῦτα τὰ πείσματα ἐνεποίησεν αὐτοῖς διὰ τῶν νόμων αὐτοῦ καὶ τῆς παιδείας, ὅτι οὔτε τὸ δουλεύειν αἰσχρόν ἐστι μᾶλλον ἢ καλὸν οὔτε τὸ ἐλευθέρους εἶναι καλὸν μᾶλλον ἢ αἰσχρόν, οἱ ἐν Θερμοπύλαις ἀποθανόντες διὰ ταῦτα τὰ δόγματα ἀπέθανον, Ἀθηναῖοι δὲ τὴν πόλιν διὰ ποίους ἄλλους λόγους ἀπέλιπον;

[27] εἶτα οἱ λέγοντες ταῦτα γαμοῦσι καὶ παιδοποιοῦνται καὶ πολιτεύονται καὶ ἱερεῖς καθιστᾶσιν αὑτοὺς καὶ προφήτας. τίνων; τῶν οὐκ ὄντων· καὶ τὴν Πυθίαν ἀνακρίνουσιν αὐτοί, ἵνα τὰ ψευδῆ πύθωνται, καὶ ἄλλοις τοὺς χρησμοὺς ἐξηγοῦνται. ὦ μεγάλης ἀναισχυντίας καὶ γοητείας.

[28] ἄνθρωπε, τί ποιεῖς; αὐτὸς σεαυτὸν ἐξελέγχεις καθʼ ἡμέραν καὶ οὐ θέλεις ἀφεῖναι τὰ ψυχρὰ ταῦτα ἐπιχειρήματα; ἐσθίων ποῦ φέρεις τὴν χεῖρα; εἰς τὸ στόμα ἢ εἰς τὸν ὀφθαλμόν; λουόμενος ποῦ ἐμβαίνεις; πότε τὴν χύτραν εἶπες λο υπάδα ἢ τὴν τορύνην ὀβελίσκον;

[29] εἴ τινος αὐτῶν δοῦλος ἤμην, εἰ καὶ ἔδει με καθʼ ἡμέραν ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ ἐκδέρεσθαι, ἐγὼ ἂν αὐτὸν ἐστρέβλουν. βάλε ἐλάδιον, παιδάριον, εἰς τὸ βαλανεῖον. ἔβαλον ἂν γάριον καὶ ἀπελθὼν κατὰ τῆς κεφαλῆς αὐτοῦ κατέχεον. τί τοῦτο; φαντασία μοι ἐγένετο ἐλαίου ἀδιάκριτος, ὁμοιοτάτη, νὴ τὴν σὴν τύχην.

[30] δὸς ὧδε τὴν πτισάνην. ἤνεγκα ἂν αὐτῷ γεμίσας παροψίδα ὀξογάρου. οὐκ ᾔτησα τὴν πτισάνην; ναὶ κύριε· τοῦτο πτισάνη ἐστίν. τοῦτο οὐκ ἔστιν ὀξόγαρον; τί μᾶλλον ἢ πτισάνη; λάβε καὶ ὀσφράνθητι, λάβε καὶ γεῦσαι. πόθεν οὖν οἶδας, εἰ αἱ αἰσθήσεις ἡμᾶς ψεύδονται;

[31] τρεῖς, τέσσαρας τῶν συνδούλων εἰ ἔσχον ὁμονοοῦντας, ἀπάγξασθαι ἂν αὐτὸν ἐποίησα ῥηγνύμενον ἢ μεταθέσθαι. νῦν δʼ ἐντρυφῶσιν ἡμῖν τοῖς μὲν παρὰ τῆς φύσεως διδομένοις πᾶσι χρώμενοι, λόγῳ δʼ αὐτὰ ἀναιροῦντες.

[32] εὐχάριστοί γʼ ἄνθρωποι καὶ αἰδήμονες. εἰ μηδὲν ἄλλο καθʼ ἡμέραν ἄρτους ἐσθίοντες τολμῶσι λέγειν ὅτι οὐκ οἴδαμεν, εἰ ἔστι τις Δημήτηρ ἢ Κόρη ἢ Πλούτων·

[33] ἵνα μὴ λέγω, ὅτι νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρας ἀπολαύοντες καὶ μεταβολῶν τοῦ ἔτους καὶ ἄστρων καὶ θαλάσσης καὶ γῆς καὶ τῆς παρʼ ἀνθρώπων συνεργ είας ὑπʼ οὐδενὸς τούτων οὐδὲ κατὰ ποσὸν ἐπιστρέφονται, ἀλλὰ μόνον ἐξεμέσαι τὸ προβλημάτιον ζητοῦσι καὶ τὸν στόμαχον γυμνάσαντες ἀπελθεῖν εἰς βαλανεῖον.

[34] τί δʼ ἐροῦσι καὶ περὶ τίνων ἢ πρὸς τίνας καὶ τί ἔσται αὐτοῖς ἐκ τῶν λόγων τούτων, οὐδὲ κατὰ βραχὺ πεφροντίκασι· μή τι νέος εὐγενὴς ἀκούσας τῶν λόγων τούτων πάθῃ τι ὑπʼ αὐτῶν ἢ καὶ παθὼν πάντʼ ἀπολέσῃ τὰ τῆς εὐγενείας σπέρματα·

[35] μή τινι μοιχεύοντι ἀφορμὰς παράσχωμεν τοῦ ἀπαναισχυντῆσαι πρὸς τὰ γινόμενα· μή τις τῶν νοσφιζομένων τὰ δημόσια εὑρεσιλογίας τινὸς ἐπιλάβηται ἀπὸ τῶν λόγων τούτων· μή τις τῶν αὑτοῦ γονέων ἀμελῶν θράσος τι καὶ ἀπὸ τούτων προσλάβῃ.

[36] τί οὖν κατὰ σὲ ἀγαθὸν ἢ κακόν, αἰσχρὸν ἢ καλόν; ταῦτα ἢ ταῦτα; τί οὖν; ἔτι τούτων τις ἀντιλέγει τινὶ ἢ λόγον δίδωσιν ἢ λαμβάνει ἢ μεταπείθειν πειρᾶται;

[37] πολὺ νὴ Δία μᾶλλον τοὺς κιναίδους ἐλπίσαι τις ἂν μεταπείσειν ἢ τοὺς ἐπὶ τοσοῦτον ἀποκεκωφωμένους καὶ ἀποτετυφλωμένους τῶν περὶ αὑτοὺς κακῶν.

περὶ ἀνομολογίας.

[1] τὰ μὲν ῥᾳδίως ὁμολογοῦσιν ἄνθρωποι, τὰ δʼ οὐ ῥᾳδίως. οὐδεὶς οὖν ὁμολογήσει ὅτι ἄφρων ἐστὶν ἢ ἀνόητος, ἀλλὰ πᾶν τοὐναντίον πάντων ἀκούσεις λεγόντων ὤφελον ὡς φρένας ἔχω οὕτως καὶ τύχην εἶχον.

[2] δειλοὺς δὲ ῥᾳδίως ἑαυτοὺς ὁμολογοῦσι καὶ λέγουσιν ἐγὼ δειλότερός εἰμι, ὁμολογῶ· τὰ δʼ ἄλλʼ οὐχ εὑρήσεις με μωρὸν ἄνθρωπον.

[3] ἀκρατῆ οὐ ῥᾳδίως ὁμολογήσει τις, ἄδικον οὐδʼ ὅλως, φθονερὸν οὐ πάνυ ἢ περίεργον, ἐλεήμονα οἱ πλεῖστοι.

[4] τί οὖν τὸ αἴτιον; τὸ μὲν κυριώτατον ἀνομολογία καὶ ταραχὴ ἐν τοῖς περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν, ἄλλοις δʼ ἄλλα αἴτια καὶ σχεδὸν ὅσα ἂν αἰσχρὰ φαντάζωνται, ταῦτα οὐ πάνυ ὁμολογοῦσι·

[5] τὸ δὲ δειλὸν εἶναι εὐγνώμονος ἤθους φαντάζονται καὶ τὸ ἐλεήμονα, τὸ δʼ ἠλίθιον εἶναι παντελῶς ἀνδραπόδου· καὶ τὰ περὶ κοινωνίαν δὲ πλημμελήματα οὐ πάνυ προσίενται.

[6] ἐπὶ δὲ τῶν πλείστων ἁμαρτημάτων κατὰ τοῦτο μάλιστα φέρονται ἐπὶ τὸ ὁμολογεῖν αὐτά, ὅτι φαντάζονταί τι ἐν αὐτοῖς εἶναι ἀκούσιον καθάπερ ἐν τῷ δειλῷ καὶ ἐλεήμονι.

[7] κἂν ἀκρατῆ που παρομολογῇ τις αὑτόν, ἔρωτα προσέθηκεν, ὥστε συγγνωσθῆναι ὡς ἐπʼ ἀκουσίῳ. τὸ δʼ ἄδικον οὐδαμῶς φαντάζονται ἀκούσιον. ἔνι τι καὶ τῷ ζηλοτύπῳ, ὡς οἴονται, τοῦ ἀκουσίου· διὰ τοῦτο καὶ περὶ τούτου παρομολογοῦσιν.

[8] ἐν οὖν τοιούτοις ἀνθρώποις ἀναστρεφόμενον, οὕτως τεταραγμένοις, οὕτως οὐκ εἰδόσιν οὔθʼ ὅ τι λέγουσιν οὔθʼ ὅ τι ἔχουσιν κακὸν ἢ εἰ ἔχουσιν ἢ παρὰ τί ἔχουσιν ἢ πῶς παύσονται αὐτῶν, καὶ αὐτὸν οἶμαι ἐφιστάνειν ἄξιον συνεχὲς

[9] μή που καὶ αὐτὸς εἷς εἰμι ἐκείνων; τίνα φαντασίαν ἔχω περὶ ἐμαυτοῦ; πῶς ἐμαυτῷ χρῶμαι; μή τι καὶ αὐτὸς ὡς φρονίμῳ, μή τι καὶ αὐτὸς ὡς ἐγκρατεῖ; μὴ καὶ αὐτὸς λέγω ποτὲ ταῦτα, ὅτι εἰς τὸ ἐπιὸν πεπαίδευμαι;

[10] ἔχω ἣν δεῖ συναίσθησιν τὸν μηδὲν εἰδότα, ὅτι οὐδὲν οἶδα; ἔρχομαι πρὸς τὸν διδάσκαλον ὡς ἐπὶ τὰ χρηστήρια πείθεσθαι παρεσκευασμένος; ἢ καὶ αὐτὸς κορύζης μεστὸς εἰς τὴν σχολὴν εἰσέρχομαι μόνην τὴν ἱστορίαν μαθησόμενος καὶ τὰ βιβλία νοήσων, ἃ πρότερον οὐκ ἐνόουν, ἂν δʼ οὕτως τύχῃ, καὶ ἄλλοις ἐξηγησόμενος;

[11] ἄνθρωπʼ, ἐν οἴκῳ διαπεπύκτευκας τῷ δουλαρίῳ, τὴν οἰκίαν ἀνάστατον πεποίηκας, τοὺς γείτονας συντετάραχας· καὶ ἔρχῃ μοι καταστολὰς ποιήσας ὡς σοφὸς καὶ καθήμενος κρίνεις, πῶς ἐξηγησάμην τὴν λέξιν, πῶς τί ποτʼ ἐφλυάρησα τὰ ἐπελθόντα μοι;

[12] φθονῶν ἐλήλυθας, τεταπεινωμένος, ὅτι σοι ἐξ οἴκου φέρεται οὐδέν, καὶ κάθῃ μεταξὺ λεγομένων τῶν λόγων αὐτὸς οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἐνθυμούμενος ἢ πῶς ὁ πατὴρ τὰ πρός σε ἢ πῶς ὁ ἀδελφός;

[13] τί λέγουσιν οἱ ἐκεῖ ἄνθρωποι περὶ ἐμοῦ; νῦν οἴονταί με προκόπτειν καὶ λέγουσιν ὅτι ἥξει ἐκεῖνος πάντα εἰδώς.

[14] ἤθελόν πώς ποτε πάντα μαθὼν ἐπανελθεῖν, ἀλλὰ πολλοῦ πόνου χρεία καὶ οὐδεὶς οὐδὲν πέμπει καὶ ἐν Νικοπόλει σαπρῶς λούει τὰ βαλανεῖα καὶ ἐν οἴκῳ κακῶς καὶ ὧδε κακῶς.

[15] εἶτα λέγουσιν οὐδεὶς ὠφελεῖται ἐκ τῆς σχολῆς. τίς γὰρ ἔρχεται εἰς σχολήν, τίς γάρ, ὡς θεραπευθησόμενος; τίς ὡς παρέξων αὑτοῦ τὰ δόγματα ἐκκαθαρθησόμενα, τίς συναισθησόμενος τίνων δεῖται;

[16] τί οὖν θαυμάζετʼ, εἰ ἃ φέρετʼ εἰς τὴν σχολήν, αὐτὰ ταῦτα ἀποφέρετε πάλιν; οὐ γὰρ ὡς ἀποθησόμενοι ἢ ἐπανορθώσοντες ἢ ἄλλʼ ἀντʼ αὐτῶν ληψόμενοι ἔρχεσθε.

[17] πόθεν; οὐδʼ ἐγγύς. ἐκεῖνο γοῦν βλέπετε μᾶλλον, εἰ ἐφʼ ὃ ἔρχεσθε τοῦτο ὑμῖν γίνεται. θέλετε λαλεῖν περὶ τῶν θεωρημάτων. τί οὖν; οὐ φλυαρότεροι γίνεσθε; οὐχὶ δὲ παρέχει τινὰ ὕλην ὑμῖν πρὸς τὸ ἐπιδείκνυσθαι τὰ θεωρημάτια; οὐ συλλογισμοὺς ἀναλύετε, μεταπίπτοντας; οὐκ ἐφοδεύετε Ψευδομένου λήμματα, ὑποθετικούς; τί οὖν ἔτι ἀγανακτεῖτε εἰ ἐφʼ ἃ πάρεστε, ταῦτα λαμβάνετε;

[18] ναί· ἀλλʼ ἂν ἀποθάνῃ μου τὸ παιδίον ἢ ὁ ἀδελφὸς ἢ ἐμὲ ἀποθνῄσκειν δέῃ ἢ στρεβλοῦσθαι, τί με τὰ τ οιαῦτα ὠφελήσει;

[19] μὴ γὰρ ἐπὶ τοῦτο ἦλθες, μὴ γὰρ τούτου ἕνεκά μοι παρακάθησαι, μὴ γὰρ διὰ τοῦτό ποτε λύχνον ἧψας ἢ ἠγρύπνησας; ἢ εἰς τὸν περίπατον ἐξελθὼν προέβαλές ποτε σαυτῷ φαντασίαν τινὰ ἀντὶ συλλογισμοῦ καὶ ταύτην κοινῇ ἐφωδεύσατε;

[20] ποῦ ποτε; εἶτα λέγετε ἄχρηστα τὰ θεωρήματα. τίσιν; τοῖς οὐχ ὡς δεῖ χρωμένοις. τὰ γὰρ κολλύρια οὐκ ἄχρηστα τοῖς ὅτε δεῖ καὶ ὡς δεῖ ἐγχριομένοις, τὰ μαλάγματα δʼ οὐκ ἄχρηστα, οἱ ἁλτῆρες οὐκ ἄχρηστοι, ἀλλὰ τισὶν ἄχρηστοι, τισὶν πάλιν χρήσιμοι.

[21] ἄν μου πυνθάνῃ νῦν χρήσιμοί εἰσιν οἱ συλλογισμοί; ἐρῶ σοι ὅτι χρήσιμοι, κἂν θέλῃς, ἀποδείξω, πῶς. ἐμὲ οὖν τι ὠφελήκασιν; ἄνθρωπε, μὴ γὰρ ἐπύθου, εἰ σοὶ χρήσιμοι, ἀλλὰ καθόλου;

[22] πυθέσθω μου καὶ ὁ δυσεντερικός, εἰ χρήσιμον ὄξος, ἐρῶ ὅτι χρήσιμον. ἐμοὶ οὖν χρήσιμον; ἐρῶ οὔ. ζήτησον πρῶτον σταλῆναί σου τὸ ῥεῦμα, τὰ ἑλκύδρια ἀπουλωθῆναι. καὶ ὑμεῖς, ἄνδρες, τὰ ἕλκη πρῶτον θεραπεύετε, τὰ ῥεύματα ἐπιστήσατε, ἠρεμήσατε τῇ διανοίᾳ, ἀπερίσπαστον αὐτὴν ἐνέγκατε εἰς τὴν σχολήν· καὶ γνώσεσθε οἵαν ἰσχὺν ὁ λόγος ἔχει.

περὶ φιλίας.

[1] περὶ ἅ τις ἐσπούδακεν, φιλεῖ ταῦτα εἰκότως. μή τι οὖν περὶ τὰ κακὰ ἐσπουδάκασιν οἱ ἄνθρωποι; οὐδαμῶς. ἀλλὰ μή τι περὶ τὰ μηδὲν πρὸς αὐτούς; οὐδὲ περὶ ταῦτα.

[2] ὑπολείπεται τοίνυν περὶ μόνα τὰ ἀγαθὰ ἐσπουδακέναι αὐτούς· εἰ δʼ ἐσπουδακέναι, καὶ φιλεῖν ταῦτα.

[3] ὅστις οὖν ἀγαθῶν ἐπιστήμων ἐστίν, οὗτος ἂν καὶ φιλεῖν εἰδείη· ὁ δὲ μὴ δυνάμενος διακρῖναι τὰ ἀγαθὰ ἀπὸ τῶν κακῶν καὶ τὰ οὐδέτερα ἀπʼ ἀμφοτέρων πῶς ἂν ἔτι οὗτος φιλεῖν δύναιτο; τοῦ φρονίμου τοίνυν ἐστὶ μόνου τὸ φιλεῖν.

[4] καὶ πῶς; φησίν· ἐγὼ γὰρ ἄφρων ὢν ὅμως φιλῶ μου τὸ παιδίον.

[5] — θαυμάζω μὲν νὴ τοὺς θεούς, πῶς καὶ τὸ πρῶτον ὡμολόγηκας ἄφρονα εἶναι σεαυτόν. τί γάρ σοι λείπει; οὐ χρῇ αἰσθήσει, οὐ φαντασίας διακρίνεις, οὐ τροφὰς προσφέρῃ τὰς ἐπιτηδείους τῷ σώματι, οὐ σκέπην, οὐκ οἴκησιν;

[6] πόθεν οὖν ὁμολογεῖς ἄφρων εἶναι; ὅτι νὴ Δία πολλάκις ἐξίστασαι ὑπὸ τῶν φαντασιῶν καὶ ταράττῃ καὶ ἡττῶσίν σε αἱ πιθανότητες αὐτῶν· καὶ ποτὲ μὲν ταῦτα ἀγαθὰ ὑπολαμβάνεις, εἶτα ἐκεῖνα αὐτὰ κακά, ὕστερον δʼ οὐδέτερα· καὶ ὅλως λυπῇ, φοβῇ, φθονεῖς, ταράσσῃ, μεταβάλλῃ· διὰ ταῦτα ὁμολογεῖς ἄφρων εἶναι.

[7] ἐν δὲ τῷ φιλεῖν οὐ μεταβάλλῃ; ἀλλὰ πλοῦτον μὲν καὶ ἡδονὴν καὶ ἁπλῶς αὐτὰ τὰ πράγματα ποτὲ μὲν ἀγαθὰ ὑπολαμβάνεις εἶναι, ποτὲ δὲ κακά· ἀνθρώπους δὲ τοὺς αὐτοὺς οὐχὶ ποτὲ μὲν ἀγαθούς, ποτὲ δὲ κακοὺς καὶ ποτὲ μὲν οἰκείως ἔχεις, ποτὲ δʼ ἐχθρῶς αὐτοῖς καὶ ποτὲ μὲν ἐπαινεῖς, ποτὲ δὲ ψέγεις; — ναὶ καὶ ταῦτα πάσχω.

[8] — τί οὖν; ὁ ἐξηπατημένος περί τινος δοκεῖ σοι φίλος εἶναι αὐτοῦ; — οὐ πάνυ. — οὐδʼ ὁ μεταπτώτως ἑλόμενος αὐτὸν εἶναι εὔνους αὐτῷ; — οὐδʼ οὗτος. — ὁ δὲ νῦν λοιδορῶν μέν τινα, ὕστερον δὲ θαυμάζων;

[9] — οὐδʼ οὗτος. — τί οὖν; κυνάρια οὐδέποτʼ εἶδες σαίνοντα καὶ προσπαίζοντα ἀλλήλοις, ἵνʼ εἴπῃς οὐδὲν φιλικώτερον; ἀλλʼ ὅπως ἴδῃς, τί ἐστι φιλία, βάλε κρέας εἰς μέσον καὶ γνώσῃ.

[10] βάλε καὶ σοῦ καὶ τοῦ παιδίου μέσον ἀγρίδιον καὶ γνώσῃ, πῶς σὲ τὸ παιδίον ταχέως κατορύξαι θέλει καὶ σὺ τὸ παιδίον εὔχῃ ἀποθανεῖν. εἶτα σὺ πάλιν οἷον ἐξέθρεψα τεκνίον· πάλαι ἐκφέρει.

[11] βάλε κορασίδιον κομψὸν καὶ αὐτὸ ὁ γέρων φίλει κἀκεῖνος ὁ νέος· ἂν δέ, δοξάριον. ἂν δὲ κινδυνεῦσαι δέῃ, ἐρεῖς τὰς φωνὰς τὰς τοῦ Ἀδμήτου πατρός·

χαίρεις ὁρῶν φῶς, πατέρα δʼ οὐ χαίρειν δοκεῖς;
θέλεις βλέπειν φῶς, πατέρα δʼ οὐ θέλειν δοκεῖς;

[12] οἴει ὅτι ἐκεῖνος οὐκ ἐφίλει τὸ ἴδιον παιδίον, ὅτε μικρὸν ἦν, οὐδὲ πυρέσσοντος αὐτοῦ ἠγωνία οὐδʼ ἔλεγεν πολλάκις ὅτι ὤφελον ἐγὼ μᾶλλον ἐπύρεσσον; εἶτα ἐλθόντος τοῦ πράγματος καὶ ἐγγίσαντος ὅρα οἵας φωνὰς ἀφιᾶσιν.

[13] ὁ Ἐτεοκλῆς καὶ ὁ Πολυνείκης οὐκ ἦσαν ἐκ τῆς αὐτῆς μητρὸς καὶ τοῦ αὐτοῦ πατρός; οὐκ ἦσαν συντεθραμμένοι, συμβεβιωκότες, συμπεπωκότες, συγκεκοιμημένοι, πολλάκις ἀλλήλους καταπεφιληκότες; ὥστʼ εἴ τις οἶμαι εἶδεν αὐτούς, κατεγέλασεν ἂν τῶν φιλοσόφων ἐφʼ οἷς περὶ φιλίας παραδοξολογοῦσιν.

[14] ἀλλʼ ἐμπεσούσης εἰς τὸ μέσον ὥσπερ κρέως τῆς τυραννίδος ὅρα οἷα λέγουσι·

ποῦ ποτε στήσῃ πρὸ πύργων; — ὡς τί μʼ ἐρωτᾷς τῷδʼ; —
ἀντιτάξομαι κτενῶν σε. — κἀμὲ τοῦδʼ ἔρως ἔχει.

καὶ εὔχονται εὐχὰς τοιάσδε.

[15] καθόλου γὰρ — μὴ ἐξαπατᾶσθε — πᾶν ζῷον οὐδενὶ οὕτως ᾠκείωται ὡς τῷ ἰδίῳ συμφέροντι. ὅ τι ἂν οὖν πρὸς τοῦτο φαίνηται αὐτῷ ἐμποδίζειν, ἄν τʼ ἀδελφὸς ᾖ τοῦτο ἄν τε πατὴρ ἄν τε τέκνον ἄν τʼ ἐρώμενος ἄν τʼ ἐραστής, μισεῖ, προβάλλεται, καταρᾶται.

[16] οὐδὲν γὰρ οὕτως φιλεῖν πέφυκεν ὡς τὸ αὑτοῦ συμφέρον· τοῦτο πατὴρ καὶ ἀδελφὸς καὶ συγγενεῖς καὶ πατρὶς καὶ θεός.

[17] ὅταν γοῦν εἰς τοῦτο ἐμποδίζειν ἡμῖν οἱ θεοὶ δοκῶσιν, κἀκείνους λοιδοροῦμεν καὶ τὰ ἱδρύματα αὐτῶν καταστρέφομεν καὶ τοὺς ναοὺς ἐμπιπρῶμεν, ὥσπερ Ἀλέξανδρος ἐκέλευσεν ἐμπρησθῆναι τὰ Ἀσκλήπεια ἀποθανόντος τοῦ ἐρωμένου.

[18] διὰ τοῦτο ἂν μὲν ἐν ταὐτῷ τις θῇ τὸ συμφέρον καὶ τὸ ὅσιον καὶ τὸ καλὸν καὶ πατρίδα καὶ γονεῖς καὶ φίλους, σῴζεται ταῦτα πάντα· ἂν δʼ ἀλλαχοῦ μὲν τὸ συμφέρον, ἀλλαχοῦ δὲ τοὺς φίλους καὶ τὴν πατρίδα καὶ τοὺς συγγενεῖς καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ δίκαιον, οἴχεται πάντα ταῦτα καταβαρούμενα ὑπὸ τοῦ συμφέροντος.

[19] ὅπου γὰρ ἂν τὸ ἐγὼ καὶ τὸ ἐμόν, ἐκεῖ ἀνάγκη ῥέπειν τὸ ζῷον· εἰ ἐν σαρκί, ἐκεῖ τὸ κυριεῦον εἶναι· εἰ ἐν προαιρέσει, ἐκεῖ νο εἶναι· εἰ ἐν τοῖς ἐκτός, ἐκεῖ νο.

[20] εἰ τοίνυν ἐκεῖ εἰμι ἐγώ, ὅπου ἡ προαίρεσις, οὕτως μόνως καὶ φίλος ἔσομαι οἷος δεῖ καὶ υἱὸς καὶ πατήρ. τοῦτο γάρ μοι συνοίσει τηρεῖν τὸν πιστόν, τὸν αἰδήμονα, τὸν ἀνεκτικόν, τὸν ἀφεκτικὸν καὶ συνεργητικόν, φυλάσσειν τὰς σχέσεις.

[21] ἂν δʼ ἀλλαχοῦ μὲν ἐμαυτὸν θῶ, ἀλλαχοῦ δὲ τὸ καλόν, οὕτως ἰσχυρὸς γίνεται ὁ Ἐπικούρου λόγος, ἀποφαίνων ἢ μηδὲν εἶναι τὸ καλὸν ἢ εἰ ἄρα τὸ ἔνδοξον.

[22] διὰ ταύτην τὴν ἄγνοιαν καὶ Ἀθηναῖοι καὶ Λακεδαιμόνιοι διεφέροντο καὶ Θηβαῖοι πρὸς ἀμφοτέρους καὶ μέγας βασιλεὺς πρὸς τὴν Ἑλλάδα καὶ Μακεδόνες πρὸς ἀμφοτέρους καὶ νῦν Ῥωμαῖοι πρὸς Γέτας καὶ ἔτι πρότερον τὰ ἐν Ἰλίῳ διὰ ταῦτα ἐγένετο.

[23] ὁ Ἀλέξανδρος τοῦ Μενελάου ξένος ἦν, καὶ εἴ τις αὐτοὺς εἶδεν φιλοφρονουμένους ἀλλήλους, ἠπίστησεν ἂν τῷ λέγοντι οὐκ εἶναι φίλους αὐτούς. ἀλλʼ ἐβλήθη εἰς τὸ μέσον μερίδιον, κομψὸν γυναικάριον, καὶ περὶ αὐτοῦ πόλεμος.

[24] καὶ νῦν ὅταν ἴδῃς φίλους, ἀδελφοὺς ὁμονοεῖν δοκοῦντας, μὴ αὐτόθεν ἀποφήνῃ περὶ τῆς φιλίας τι αὐτῶν μηδʼ ἂν ὀμνύωσιν μηδʼ ἂν ἀδυνάτως ἔχειν λέγωσιν ἀπηλλάχθαι ἀλλήλων.

[25] οὐκ ἔστι πιστὸν τὸ τοῦ φαύλου ἡγεμονικόν· ἀβέβαιόν ἐστιν, ἄκριτον, ἄλλοθʼ ὑπʼ ἄλλης φαντασίας νικώμενον.

[26] ἀλλʼ ἐξέτασον μὴ ταῦθʼ ἃ οἱ ἄλλοι, εἰ ἐκ τῶν αὐτῶν γονέων καὶ ὁμοῦ ἀνατεθραμμένοι καὶ ὑπὸ τῷ αὐτῷ παιδαγωγῷ, ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνο μόνον, ποῦ τὸ συμφέρον αὐτοῖς τίθενται, πότερον ἐκτὸς ἢ ἐν προαιρέσει.

[27] ἂν ἐκτός, μὴ εἴπῃς φίλους οὐ μᾶλλον ἢ πιστοὺς ἢ βεβαίους ἢ θαρραλέους ἢ ἐλευθέρους, ἀλλὰ μηδʼ ἀνθρώπους, εἰ νοῦν ἔχεις.

[28] οὐ γὰρ ἀνθρωπικὸν δόγμα ἐστὶ τὸ ποιοῦν δάκνειν ἀλλήλους καὶ λοιδορεῖσθαι καὶ τὰς ἐρημίας καταλαμβάνειν ἢ τὰς ἀγορὰς ὡς τὰ ὄρη καὶ ἐν τοῖς δικαστηρίοις ἀποδείκνυσθαι τὰ λῃστῶν· οὐδὲ τὸ ἀκρατεῖς καὶ μοιχοὺς καὶ φθορεῖς ἀπεργαζόμενον οὐδʼ ὅσʼ ἄλλα πλημμελοῦσιν ἄνθρωποι κατʼ ἀλλήλων διʼ ἓν καὶ μόνον τοῦτο δόγμα, τὸ ἐν τοῖς ἀπροαιρέτοις τίθεσθαι αὑτοὺς καὶ τὰ ἑαυτῶν.

[29] ἂν δʼ ἀκούσῃς, ὅτι ταῖς ἀληθείαις οὗτοι οἱ ἄνθρωποι ἐκεῖ μόνον οἴονται τὸ ἀγαθὸν ὅπου προαίρεσις, ὅπου χρῆσις ὀρθὴ φαντασιῶν, μηκέτι πολυπραγμονήσῃς μήτʼ εἰ υἱὸς καὶ πατήρ ἐστι μήτʼ εἰ ἀδελφοὶ μήτʼ εἰ πολὺν χρόνον συμπεφοιτηκότες καὶ ἑταῖροι, ἀλλὰ μόνον αὐτὸ τοῦτο γνοὺς θαρρῶν ἀποφαίνου, ὅτι φίλοι, ὥσπερ ὅτι πιστοί, ὅτι δίκαιοι.

[30] ποῦ γὰρ ἀλλαχοῦ φιλία ἢ ὅπου πίστις, ὅπου αἰδώς, ὅπου δόσις τοῦ καλοῦ, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων οὐδενός;

[31] ἀλλὰ τεθεράπευκέ με τοσούτῳ χρόνῳ· καὶ οὐκ ἐφίλει με; πόθεν οἶδας, ἀνδράποδον, εἰ οὕτως τεθεράπευκεν ὡς τὰ ὑποδήματα σπογγίζει τὰ ἑαυτοῦ, ὡς τὸ κτῆνος; πόθεν οἶδας, εἰ τὴν χρείαν σʼ ἀποβαλόντα τὴν τοῦ σκευαρίου ῥίψει ὡς κατεαγὸς πινάκιον;

[32] ἀλλὰ γυνή μου ἐστὶ καὶ τοσούτῳ χρόνῳ συμβεβιώκαμεν. πόσῳ δʼ ἡ Ἐριφύλη μετὰ τοῦ Ἀμφιαράου καὶ τέκνων μήτηρ καὶ πολλῶν;

[33] ἀλλʼ ὅρμος ἦλθεν εἰς τὸ μέσον. τί δʼ ἐστὶν ὅρμος; τὸ δόγμα τὸ περὶ τῶν τοιούτων. ἐκεῖνο ἦν τὸ θηριῶδες, ἐκεῖνο τὸ διακόπτον τὴν φιλίαν, τὸ οὐκ ἐῶν εἶναι γυναῖκα γαμετήν, τὴν μητέρα μητέρα.

[34] καὶ ὑμῶν ὅστις ἐσπούδακεν ἢ αὐτός τινι εἶναι φίλος ἢ ἄλλον κτήσασθαι φίλον, ταῦτα τὰ δόγματα ἐκκοπτέτω, ταῦτα μισησάτω, ταῦτα ἐξελασάτω ἐκ τῆς ψυχῆς τῆς ἑαυτοῦ.

[35] καὶ οὕτως ἔσται πρῶτον μὲν αὐτὸς ἑαυτῷ μὴ λοιδορούμενος, μὴ μαχόμενος, μὴ μετανοῶν, μὴ βασανίζων ἑαυτόν·

[36] ἔπειτα καὶ ἑτέρῳ, τῷ μὲν ὁμοίῳ παντὶ ἁπλῶς, τοῦ δʼ ἀνομοίου ἀνεκτικός, πρᾷος πρὸς αὐτόν, ἥμερος, συγγνωμονικὸς ὡς πρὸς ἀγνοοῦντα, ὡς πρὸς διαπίπτοντα περὶ τῶν μεγίστων· οὐδενὶ χαλεπός, ἅτʼ εἰδὼς ἀκριβῶς τὸ τοῦ Πλάτωνος, ὅτι πᾶσα ψυχὴ ἄκουσα στέρεται τῆς ἀληθείας.

[37] εἰ δὲ μή, τὰ μὲν ἄλλα πράξετε πάντα ὅσα οἱ φίλοι καὶ συμπιεῖσθε καὶ συσκηνήσετε καὶ συμπλεύσετε καὶ ἐκ τῶν αὐτῶν γεγενημένοι ἔσεσθε· καὶ γὰρ οἱ ὄφεις· φίλοι δʼ οὔτʼ ἐκεῖνοι οὔθʼ ὑμεῖς, μέχρις ἂν ἔχητε τὰ θηριώδη ταῦτα καὶ μιαρὰ δόγματα.

περὶ τῆς τοῦ λέγειν δυνάμεως.

[1] βιβλίον πᾶς ἂν ἥδιον ἀναγνῴη καὶ ῥᾷον τὸ εὐσημοτέροις γράμμασι γεγραμμένον οὐκοῦν καὶ λόγους πᾶς ἄν τις ῥᾷον ἀκούσειε τοὺς εὐσχήμοσιν ἅμα καὶ εὐπρεπέσιν ὀνόμασι σεσημασμένους.

[2] οὐκ ἄρα τοῦτο ῥητέον, ὡς οὐδεμία δύναμίς ἐστιν ἀπαγγελτική· τοῦτο γὰρ ἅμα μὲν ἀσεβοῦς ἐστιν ἀνθρώπου, ἅμα δὲ δειλοῦ. ἀσεβοῦς μέν, ὅτι τὰς παρὰ τοῦ θεοῦ χάριτας ἀτιμάζει, ὥσπερ εἰ ἀνῄρει τὴν εὐχρηστίαν τῆς ὁρατικῆς ἢ τῆς ἀκουστικῆς δυνάμεως ἢ αὐτῆς τῆς φωνητικῆς.

[3] εἰκῇ οὖν σοι ὁ θεὸς ὀφθαλμοὺς ἔδωκεν, εἰκῇ πνεῦμα ἐνεκέρασεν αὐτοῖς οὕτως ἰσχυρὸν καὶ φιλότεχνον, ὥστε μακρὰν ἐξικνούμενον ἀναμάσσεσθαι τοὺς τύπους τῶν ὁρωμένων;

[4] καὶ ποῖος ἄγγελος οὕτως ὠκὺς καὶ ἐπιμελής; εἰκῇ δὲ καὶ τὸν μεταξὺ ἀέρα οὕτως ἐνεργὸν ἐποίησεν καὶ ἔντονον, ὥστε διʼ αὐτοῦ τεινομένου πως διικνεῖσθαι τὴν ὅρασιν; εἰκῇ δὲ φῶς ἐποίησεν, οὗ μὴ παρόντος οὐδενὸς τῶν ἄλλων ὄφελος ἦν;

[5] ἄνθρωπε, μήτʼ ἀχάριστος ἴσθι μήτε πάλιν ἀμνήμων τῶν κρεισσόνων, ἀλλʼ ὑπὲρ μὲν τοῦ ὁρᾶν καὶ ἀκούειν καὶ νὴ Δία ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ τοῦ ζῆν καὶ τῶν συνεργῶν πρὸς αὐτό, ὑπὲρ καρπῶν ξηρῶν, ὑπὲρ οἴνου, ὑπὲρ ἐλαίου εὐχαρίστει τῷ θεῷ·

[6] μέμνησο δʼ ὅτι ἄλλο τί σοι δέδωκεν κρεῖττον ἁπάντων τούτων, τὸ χρησόμενον αὐτοῖς, τὸ δοκιμάσον, τὸ τὴν ἀξίαν ἑκάστου λογιούμενον.

[7] τί γάρ ἐστι τὸ ἀποφαινόμενον ὑπὲρ ἑκάστης τούτων τῶν δυνάμεων, πόσου τις ἀξία ἐστὶν αὐτῶν; μή τι αὐτὴ ἑκάστη ἡ δύναμις; μή τι τῆς ὁρατικῆς ποτʼ ἤκουσας λεγούσης τι περὶ ἑαυτῆς, μή τι τῆς ἀκουστικῆς; μή τι πυρῶν; μή τι κριθῶν; μή τι ἵππου; μή τι κυνός; ἀλλʼ ὡς διάκονοι καὶ δοῦλαι τεταγμέναι εἰσὶν ὑπηρετεῖν τῇ χρηστικῇ τῶν φαντασιῶν.

[8] κἂν πύθῃ, πόσου ἕκαστον ἄξιόν ἐστιν, τίνος πυνθάνῃ; τίς σοι ἀποκρίνεται; πῶς οὖν δύναταί τις ἄλλη δύναμις κρείσσων εἶναι ταύτης, ἣ καὶ ταῖς λοιπαῖς διακόνοις χρῆται καὶ δοκιμάζει αὐτὴ ἕκαστα καὶ ἀποφαίνεται;

[9] τίς γὰρ ἐκείνων οἶδεν, τίς ἐστιν αὐτὴ καὶ πόσου ἀξία; τίς ἐκείνων οἶδεν, ὁπότε δεῖ χρῆσθαι αὐτῇ καὶ πότε μή; τίς ἐστιν ἡ ἀνοίγουσα καὶ κλείουσα τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς καὶ ἀφʼ ὧν δεῖ ἀποστρέφουσα, τοῖς δὲ προσάγουσα; ἡ ὁρατική; οὔ, ἀλλʼ ἡ προαιρετική. τίς ἡ τὰ ὦτα ἐπικλείουσα καὶ ἀνοίγουσα;

[10] τίς, καθʼ ἣν περίεργοι καὶ πευθῆνες ἢ πάλιν ἀκίνητοι ὑπὸ λόγου; ἡ ἀκουστική;

[11] οὐκ ἄλλη ἢ ἡ προαιρετικὴ δύναμις. εἶτʼ αὐτὴ ἰδοῦσα, ὅτι ἐν τυφλαῖς καὶ κωφαῖς ταῖς ἄλλαις ἁπάσαις δυνάμεσίν ἐστι μηδέ τι ἄλλο συνορᾶν δυναμέναις πλὴν αὐτὰ ἐκεῖνα τὰ ἔργα, ἐφʼ οἷς τεταγμέναι εἰσὶ διακονεῖν ταύτῃ καὶ ὑπηρετεῖν, αὐτὴ δὲ μόνη ὀξὺ βλέπει καὶ τάς τʼ ἄλλας καθορᾷ, πόσου ἑκάστη ἀξία, καὶ αὑτήν, μέλλει ἡμῖν ἄλλο τι ἀποφαίνεσθαι τὸ κράτιστον εἶναι ἢ αὐτήν;

[12] καὶ τί ποιεῖ ἄλλο ὀφθαλμὸς ἀνοιχθεὶς ἢ ὁρᾷ; εἰ δὲ δεῖ τὴν τοῦ τινος ἰδεῖν γυναῖκα καὶ πῶς, τίς λέγει;

[13] ἡ προαιρετική. εἰ δὲ δεῖ πιστεῦσαι τοῖς λεχθεῖσιν ἢ ἀπιστῆσαι καὶ πιστεύσαντα ἐρεθισθῆναι ἢ μή, τίς λέγει;

[14] οὐχ ἡ προαιρετική; ἡ δὲ φραστικὴ αὕτη καὶ καλλωπιστικὴ τῶν ὀνομάτων, εἴ τις ἄρα ἰδία δύναμις, τί ἄλλο ποιεῖ ἤ, ὅταν ἐμπέσῃ λόγος περί τινος, καλλωπίζει τὰ ὀνομάτια καὶ συντίθησιν ὥσπερ οἱ κομμωταὶ τὴν κόμην;

[15] πότερον δʼ εἰπεῖν ἄμεινον ἢ σιωπῆσαι καὶ οὕτως ἄμεινον ἢ ἐκείνως καὶ τοῦτο πρέπον ἢ οὐ πρέπον, καὶ τὸν καιρὸν ἑκάστου καὶ τὴν χρείαν τίς ἄλλη λέγει ἢ ἡ προαιρετική; θέλεις οὖν αὐτὴν παρελθοῦσαν αὑτῆς καταψηφίσασθαι;

[16] τί οὖν;, φησίν, εἰ οὕτως τὸ πρᾶγμα ἔχει, καὶ δύναται τὸ διακονοῦν κρεῖσσον εἶναι ἐκείνου ᾧ διακονεῖ, ὁ ἵππος τοῦ ἱππέως ἢ ὁ κύων τοῦ κυνηγοῦ ἢ τὸ ὄργανον τοῦ κιθαριστοῦ ἢ οἱ ὑπηρέται τοῦ βασιλέως. — τί ἐστι τὸ χρώμενον;

[17] προαίρεσις. τί ἐπιμελεῖται πάντων; προαίρεσις. τί ὅλον ἀναιρεῖ τὸν ἄνθρωπον ποτὲ μὲν λιμῷ, ποτὲ δʼ ἀγχόνῃ, ποτὲ δὲ κατὰ κρημνοῦ; προαίρεσις.

[18] εἶτα τούτου τί ἰσχυρότερον ἐν ἀνθρώποις ἐστίν; καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε τοῦ ἀκωλύτου τὰ κωλυόμενα; τὴν ὁρατικὴν δύναμιν τίνα πέφυκεν ἐμποδίζειν;

[19] καὶ προαίρεσις καὶ ἀπροαίρετα. τὴν ἀκουστικὴν ταὐτά, τὴν φραστικὴν ὡσαύτως. προαίρεσιν δὲ τί ἐμποδίζειν πέφυκεν; ἀπροαίρετον οὐδέν, αὐτὴ δʼ ἑαυτὴν διαστραφεῖσα. διὰ τοῦτο κακία μόνη αὕτη γίνεται ἢ ἀρετὴ μόνη.

[20] εἶτα τηλικαύτη δύναμις οὖσα καὶ πᾶσι τοῖς ἄλλοις ἐπιτεταγμένη παρελθοῦσα ἡμῖν λεγέτω κράτιστον εἶναι τῶν ὄντων τὴν σάρκα. οὐδὲ εἰ αὐτὴ ἡ σὰρξ ἑαυτὴν ἔλεγεν εἶναι κράτιστον, ἠνέσχετο ἄν τις αὐτῆς.

[21] νῦν δὲ τί ἐστιν, Ἐπίκουρε, τὸ ταῦτα ἀποφαινόμενον; τὸ περὶ Τέλους συγγεγραφός, τὸ τὰ ς Φυσικά ς, τὸ περὶ Κανόνος; τὸ τὸν πώγωνα καθεικός; τὸ γράφον, ὅτε ἀπέθνῃσκεν, ὅτι τὴν τελευταίαν ἄγοντες ἅμα καὶ μακαρίαν ἡμέραν;

[22] ἡ σὰρξ ἢ ἡ προαίρεσις; εἶτα τούτου τι κρεῖσσον ἔχειν ὁμολογεῖς καὶ οὐ μαίνῃ; οὕτως τυφλὸς ταῖς ἀληθείαις καὶ κωφὸς εἶ;

[23] τί οὖν; ἀτιμάζει τις τὰς ἄλλας δυνάμεις; μὴ γένοιτο. λέγει τις μηδεμίαν εἶναι χρείαν ἢ προαγωγὴν τῆς προαιρετικῆς δυνάμεως; μὴ γένοιτο. ἀνόητον, ἀσεβές, ἀχάριστον πρὸς τὸν θεόν. ἀλλὰ τὴν ἀξίαν ἑκάστῳ ἀποδίδωσιν.

[24] ἔστι γάρ τις καὶ ὄνου χρεία, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἡλίκη βοός· ἔστι καὶ κυνός, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἡλίκη οἰκέτου· ἔστι καὶ οἰκέτου, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἡλίκη τῶν πολιτῶν· ἔστι καὶ τούτων, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἡλίκη τῶν ἀρχόντων.

[25] οὐ μέντοι διὰ τὸ ἄλλα εἶναι κρείττονα καὶ ἣν παρέχει τὰ ἕτερα χρείαν ἀτιμαστέον. ἔστι τις ἀξία καὶ τῆς φραστικῆς δυνάμεως, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ἡλίκη τῆς προαιρετικῆς.

[26] ὅταν οὖν ταῦτα λέγω, μή τις οἰέσθω ὅτι ἀμελεῖν ὑμᾶς ἀξιῶ φράσεως· οὐδὲ γὰρ ὀφθαλμῶν οὐδʼ ὤτων οὐδὲ χειρῶν οὐδὲ ποδῶν οὐδʼ ἐσθῆτος οὐδʼ ὑποδημάτων.

[27] ἀλλʼ ἄν μου πυνθάνῃ τί οὖν ἐστι κράτιστον τῶν ὄντων;, τί εἴπω; τὴν φραστικήν; οὐ δύναμαι· ἀλλὰ τὴν προαιρετικήν, ὅταν ὀρθὴ γένηται.

[28] τοῦτο γάρ ἐστι τὸ κἀκείνῃ χρώμενον καὶ ταῖς ἄλλαις πάσαις καὶ μικραῖς καὶ μεγάλαις δυνάμεσιν· τούτου κατορθωθέντος ἀγαθὸς ἄνθρωπος ἀγαθὸς γίνεται, ἀποτευχθέντος κακὸς ἄνθρωπος γίνεται·

[29] παρʼ ὃ ἀτυχοῦμεν, εὐτυχοῦμεν, μεμφόμεθʼ ἀλλήλους, εὐαρεστοῦμεν, ἁπλῶς ὃ λεληθὸς μὲν κακοδαιμονίαν ποιεῖται, τυχὸν δʼ ἐπιμελείας εὐδαιμονίαν.

[30] τὸ δʼ αἴρειν τὴν δύναμιν τῆς φραστικῆς καὶ λέγειν μὴ εἶναι μηδεμίαν ταῖς ἀληθείαις οὐ μόνον ἀχαρίστου ἐστὶ πρὸς τοὺς δεδωκότας, ἀλλὰ καὶ δειλοῦ.

[31] ὁ γὰρ τοιοῦτος φοβεῖσθαί μοι δοκεῖ, μή, εἴπερ ἐστί τις δύναμις κατὰ τὸν τόπον, οὐ δυνηθῶμεν αὐτῆς καταφρονῆσαι.

[32] τοιοῦτοί εἰσι καὶ οἱ λέγοντες μηδεμίαν εἶναι παραλλαγὴν κάλλους πρὸς αἶσχος. εἶτα ὁμοίως ἦν κινηθῆναι τὸν Θερσίτην ἰδόντα καὶ τὸν Ἀχιλλέα; ὁμοίως τὴν Ἑλένην καὶ ἣν ἔτυχε γυναῖκα;

[33] καὶ ταῦτα μωρὰ καὶ ἄγροικα καὶ οὐκ εἰδότων τὴν ἑκάστου φύσιν, ἀλλὰ φοβουμένων μὴ ἄν τις αἴσθηται τῆς διαφορᾶς, εὐθὺς συναρπασθεὶς καὶ ἡττηθεὶς ἀπέλθῃ.

[34] ἀλλὰ τὸ μέγα τοῦτο, ἀπολιπεῖν ἑκάστῳ τὴν αὑτοῦ δύναμιν ἣν ἔχει καὶ ἀπολιπόντα ἰδεῖν τὴν ἀξίαν τῆς δυνάμεως καὶ τὸ κράτιστον τῶν ὄντων καταμαθεῖν καὶ τοῦτο ἐν παντὶ μεταδιώκειν, περὶ τοῦτο ἐσπουδακέναι, πάρεργα τἆλλα πρὸς τοῦτο πεποιημένον, οὐ μέντοι ἀμελοῦντα οὐδʼ ἐκείνων κατὰ δύναμιν.

[35] καὶ γὰρ ὀφθαλμῶν ἐπιμελητέον, ἀλλʼ οὐχ ὡς τοῦ κρατίστου, ἀλλὰ καὶ τούτων διὰ τὸ κράτιστον· ὅτι ἐκεῖνο οὐκ ἄλλως ἕξει κατὰ φύσιν εἰ μὴ ἐν τούτοις εὐλογιστοῦν καὶ τὰ ἕτερα παρὰ τὰ ἕτερα αἱρούμενον.

[36] τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ γινόμενον; οἷον εἴ τις ἀπιὼν εἰς τὴν πατρίδα τὴν ἑαυτοῦ καὶ διοδεύων πανδοκεῖον καλὸν ἀρέσαντος αὐτῷ τοῦ πανδοκείου καταμένοι ἐν τῷ πανδοκείῳ.

[37] ἄνθρωπε, ἐπελάθου σου τῆς προθέσεως· οὐκ εἰς τοῦτο ὥδευες, ἀλλὰ διὰ τούτου. ἀλλὰ κομψὸν τοῦτο. πόσα δʼ ἄλλα πανδοκεῖα κομψά, πόσοι δὲ λειμῶνες· ἁπλῶς ὡς δίοδος.

[38] τὸ δὲ προκείμενον ἐκεῖνο· εἰς τὴν πατρίδα ἐπανελθεῖν, τοὺς οἰκείους ἀπαλλάξαι δέους, αὐτὸν τὰ τοῦ πολίτου ποιεῖν, γῆμαι, παιδοποιεῖσθαι, ἄρξαι τὰς νομιζομένας ἀρχάς.

[39] οὐ γὰρ τοὺς κομψοτέρους ἡμῖν τόπους ἐκλεξόμενος ἐλήλυθας, ἀλλʼ ἐν οἷς ἐγένου καὶ ὧν κατατέταξαι πολίτης, ἐν τούτοις ἀναστραφησόμενος. τοιοῦτόν τι καὶ ἐνταῦθά ἐστι τὸ γινόμενον.

[40] ἐπεὶ διὰ λόγου καὶ τοιαύτης παραδόσεως ἐλθεῖν ἐπὶ τὸ τέλειον δεῖ καὶ τὴν αὑτοῦ προαίρεσιν ἐκκαθᾶραι καὶ τὴν δύναμιν τὴν χρηστικὴν τῶν φαντασιῶν ὀρθὴν κατασκευάσαι, ἀνάγκη δὲ τὴν παράδοσιν γίνεσθαι διά τινων θεωρημάτων καὶ διὰ λέξεως ποιᾶς καὶ μετά τινος ποικιλίας καὶ δριμύτητος τῶν θεωρημάτων,

[41] ὑπʼ αὐτῶν τινες τούτων ἁλισκόμενοι καταμένουσιν αὐτοῦ, ὁ μὲν ὑπὸ τῆς λέξεως, ὁ δʼ ὑπὸ συλλογισμῶν, ὁ δʼ ὑπὸ μεταπιπτόντων, ὁ δʼ ὑπʼ ἄλλου τινὸς τοιούτου πανδοκείου, καὶ προσμείναντες κατασήπονται ὡς παρὰ ταῖς Σειρῆσιν.

[42] ἄνθρωπε, τὸ προκείμενον ἦν σοι κατασκευάσαι σαυτὸν χρηστικὸν ταῖς προσπιπτούσαις φαντασίαις κατὰ φύσιν, ἐν ὀρέξει ἀναπότευκτον, ἐν δʼ ἐκκλίσει ἀπερίπτωτον, μηδέποτʼ ἀτυχοῦντα, μηδέποτε δυστυχοῦντα, ἐλεύθερον, ἀκώλυτον, ἀνανάγκαστον, συναρμόζοντα τῇ τοῦ Διὸς διοικήσει, ταύτῃ πειθόμενον, ταύτῃ εὐαρεστοῦντα, μηδένα μεμφόμενον, μηδένʼ αἰτιώμενον, δυνάμενον εἰπεῖν τούτους τοὺς στίχους ἐξ ὅλης ψυχῆς

ἄγου δέ μʼ, ὦ Ζεῦ, καὶ σύ γʼ ἡ Πεπρωμένη.

[43] εἶτα τοῦτο τὸ προκείμενον ἔχων ἀρέσαντός σοι λεξειδίου, ἀρεσάντων θεωρημάτων τινῶν αὐτοῦ καταμένεις καὶ κατοικεῖν προαιρῇ ἐπιλαθόμενος τῶν ἐν οἴκῳ καὶ λέγεις ταῦτα κομψά ἐστιν; τίς γὰρ λέγει μὴ εἶναι αὐτὰ κομψά;

[44] ἀλλʼ ὡς δίοδον, ὡς πανδοκεῖα. τί γὰρ κωλύει φράζοντα ὡς Δημοσθένης ἀτυχεῖν; τί δὲ κωλύει συλλογισμοὺς ἀναλύοντα ὡς Χρύσιππος ἄθλιον εἶναι, πενθεῖν, φθονεῖν, ἁπλῶς ταράσσεσθαι, κακοδαιμονεῖν;

[45] οὐδὲ ἕν. ὁρᾷς οὖν ὅτι πανδοκεῖα ἦν ταῦτα οὐδενὸς ἄξια, τὸ δὲ προκείμενον ἄλλο ἦν.

[46] ταῦτα ὅταν λέγω πρός τινας, οἴονταί με καταβάλλειν τὴν περὶ τὸ λέγειν ἐπιμέλειαν ἢ τὴν περὶ τὰ θεωρήματα. ἐγὼ δʼ οὐ ταύτην καταβάλλω, ἀλλὰ τὸ περὶ ταῦτʼ ἀκαταληκτικῶς ἔχειν καὶ ἐνταῦθα τίθεσθαι τὰς αὑτῶν ἐλπίδας.

[47] εἴ τις τοῦτο παριστὰς βλάπτει τοὺς ἀκούοντας, κἀμὲ τίθεσθε ἕνα τῶν βλαπτόντων. οὐ δύναμαι δʼ ἄλλο βλέπων τὸ κράτιστον καὶ τὸ κυριώτατον ἄλλο λέγειν εἶναι, ἵνʼ ὑμῖν χαρίσωμαι.

πρός τινα τῶν οὐκ ἠξιωμένων ὑπʼ ερ αὐτοῦ.

[1] εἰπόντος αὐτῷ τινος ὅτι Πολλάκις ἐπιθυμῶν σου ἀκοῦσαι ἦλθον πρὸς σὲ καὶ οὐδέποτέ μοι ἀπεκρίνω·

[2] καὶ νῦν, εἰ δυνατόν, παρακαλῶ σε εἰπεῖν τί μοι, Δοκεῖ σοι, ἔφη, καθάπερ ἄλλου τινὸς εἶναι τέχνη οὕτως δὲ καὶ τοῦ λέγειν, ἣν ὁ μὲν ἔχων ἐμπείρως ἐρεῖ, ὁ δὲ μὴ ἔχων ἀπείρως;

[3] — δοκεῖ. — οὐκοῦν ὁ μὲν διὰ τοῦ λέγειν αὐτός τε ὠφελούμενος καὶ ἄλλους οἷός τε ὢν ὠφελεῖν οὗτος ἐμπείρως ἂν λέγοι, ὁ δὲ βλαπτόμενος μᾶλλον καὶ βλάπτων οὗτος ἄπειρος ἂν εἴη τῆς τέχνης ταύτης τῆς τοῦ λέγειν; εὕροις ἂν τοὺς μὲν βλαπτομένους τοὺς δʼ ὠφελουμένους.

[4] οἱ δʼ ἀκούοντες πάντες ὠφελοῦνται ἀφʼ ὧν ἀκούουσιν ἢ καὶ τούτων εὕροις ἂν τοὺς μὲν ὠφελουμένους τοὺς δὲ βλαπτομένους; — καὶ τούτων, ἔφη. — οὐκοῦν καὶ ἐνταῦθα ὅσοι μὲν ἐμπείρως ἀκούουσιν ὠφελοῦνται, ὅσοι δʼ ἀπείρως βλάπτονται;

[5] — ὡμολόγει. — ἔστιν ἄρα τις ἐμπειρία καθάπερ τοῦ λέγειν οὕτως καὶ τοῦ ἀκούειν; — ἔοικεν.

[6] — εἰ δὲ βούλει, καὶ οὕτως σκέψαι αὐτό. τὸ μουσικῶς ἅψασθαι τίνος σοι δοκεῖ; — μουσικοῦ. — τί δέ;

[7] τὸν ἀνδριάντα ὡς δεῖ κατασκευάσαι τίνος σοι φαίνεται; — ἀνδριαντοποιοῦ. — τὸ ἰδεῖν ἐμπείρως οὐδεμιᾶς σοι προσδεῖσθαι φαίνεται τέχνης; — προσδεῖται καὶ τοῦτο.

[8] — οὐκοῦν εἰ καὶ τὸ λέγειν ὡς δεῖ τοῦ ἐμπείρου ἐστίν, ὁρᾷς ὅτι καὶ τὸ ἀκούειν ὠφελίμως τοῦ ἐμπείρου ἐστίν;

[9] καὶ τὸ μὲν τελείως καὶ ὠφελίμως, εἰ βούλει, πρὸς τὸ παρὸν ἀφῶμεν, ἐπεὶ καὶ μακράν ἐσμεν ἀμφότεροι παντὸς τοῦ τοιούτου·

[10] ἐκεῖνο δὲ πᾶς ἄν τις ὁμολογῆσαί μοι δοκεῖ, ὅτι ποσῆς γέ τινος τριβῆς περὶ τὸ ἀκούειν προσδεῖται ὁ τῶν φιλοσόφων ἀκουσόμενος. ἢ γὰρ οὔ;

[11] περὶ τίνος οὖν λέγω πρὸς σέ; δεῖξόν μοι. περὶ τίνος ἀκοῦσαι δύνασαι; περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν; τίνος; ἆρά γε ἵππου; — οὔ. — ἀλλὰ βοός; — οὔ. — τί οὖν;

[12] ἀνθρώπου; — ναί. — οἴδαμεν οὖν, τί ἐστιν ἄνθρωπος, τίς ἡ φύσις αὐτοῦ, τίς ἡ ἔννοια; ἔχομεν καὶ κατὰ ποσὸν περὶ τοῦτο τὰ ὦτα τετρημένα; ἀλλὰ φύσις τί ἐστιν ἐννοεῖς ἢ δύνασαι καὶ κατὰ ποσὸν ἀκολουθῆσαί μοι λέγοντι;

[13] ἀλλʼ ἀποδείξει χρήσομαι πρὸς σέ; πῶς; παρακολουθεῖς γὰρ αὐτῷ τούτῳ, τί ἐστιν ἀπόδειξις ἢ πῶς τι ἀποδείκνυται ἢ διὰ τίνων; ἢ τίνα ὅμοια μὲν ἀποδείξει ἐστίν, ἀπόδειξις δʼ οὐκ ἔστιν;

[14] τί γάρ ἐστιν ἀληθὲς οἶδας ἢ τί ἐστι ψεῦδος; τί τίνι ἀκολουθεῖ, τί τίνι μάχεται ἢ ἀνομολογούμενόν ἐστιν ἢ ἀσύμφωνον;

[15] ἀλλὰ κινῶ σε πρὸς φιλοσοφίαν; πῶς παραδεικνύω σοι τὴν μάχην τῶν πολλῶν ἀνθρώπων, καθʼ ἣν διαφέρονται περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν καὶ συμφερόντων καὶ ἀσυμφόρων, αὐτὸ τοῦτο τί ἐστι μάχη οὐκ εἰδότι; δεῖξον οὖν μοι, τί περανῶ διαλεγόμενός σοι. κίνησόν μοι προθυμίαν.

[16] ὡς ἡ κατάλληλος πόα τῷ προβάτῳ φανεῖσα προθυμίαν αὐτῷ κινεῖ πρὸς τὸ φαγεῖν, ἂν δὲ λίθον ἢ ἄρτον παραθῇς, οὐ κινηθήσεται, οὕτως εἰσί τινες ἡμῖν φυσικαὶ προθυμίαι καὶ πρὸς τὸ λέγειν, ὅταν ὁ ἀκουσόμενος φανῇ τις, ὅταν αὐτὸς ἐρεθίσῃ. ἂν δʼ ὡς λίθος ἢ χόρτος ᾖ παρακείμενος, πῶς δύναται ἀνθρώπῳ ὄρεξιν κινῆσαι;

[17] ἡ ἄμπελος μή τι λέγει τῷ γεωργῷ ἐπιμελοῦ μου; ἀλλʼ αὐτὴ διʼ αὑτῆς ἐμφαίνουσα, ὅτι ἐπιμεληθέντι λυσιτελήσει αὐτῷ, ἐκκαλεῖται πρὸς τὴν ἐπιμέλειαν.

[18] τὰ παιδία τὰ πιθανὰ καὶ δριμέα τίνα οὐκ ἐκκαλεῖται πρὸς τὸ συμπαίζειν αὐτοῖς καὶ συνέρπειν καὶ πρὸς τὸ συμψελλίζειν; ὄνῳ δὲ τίς προθυμεῖται συμπαίζειν ἢ συνογκᾶσθαι; καὶ γὰρ εἰ μικρόν, ὅμως ὀνάριόν ἐστιν.

[19] τί οὖν μοι οὐδὲν λέγεις;— ἐκεῖνο μόνον ἔχω σοι εἰπεῖν, ὅτι ὁ ἀγνοῶν, τίς ἐστι καὶ ἐπὶ τί γέγονεν καὶ ἐν τίνι τούτῳ τῷ κόσμῳ καὶ μετὰ τίνων κοινωνῶν καὶ τίνα τὰ ἀγαθά ἐστι καὶ τὰ κακὰ καὶ τὰ καλὰ καὶ τὰ αἰσχρά, καὶ μήτε λόγῳ παρακολουθῶν μήτʼ ἀποδείξει, μήτε τί ἐστιν ἀληθὲς ἢ τί ψεῦδος, μήτε διακρῖναι ταῦτα δυνάμενος οὔτʼ ὀρέξεται κατὰ φύσιν οὔτʼ ἐκκλινεῖ οὔθʼ ὁρμήσει οὔτʼ ἐπιβαλεῖται, οὐ συγκαταθήσεται, οὐκ ἀνανεύσει, οὐκ ἐφέξει, τὸ σύνολον. κωφ λὸς καὶ τυφλὸς περιελεύσεται δοκῶν μέν τις εἶναι, ὢν δʼ οὐδείς.

[20] νῦν γὰρ πρῶτον τοῦθʼ οὕτως ἔχει; οὐχὶ ἐξ οὗ γένος ἀνθρώπων ἐστίν, ἐξ ἐκείνου πάντα τὰ ἁμαρτήματα καὶ τὰ ἀτυχήματα παρὰ ταύτην τὴν ἄγνοιαν γεγένηται;

[21] Ἀγαμέμνων καὶ Ἀχιλλεὺς διὰ τί ἀλλήλοις διεφέροντο; οὐχὶ διὰ τὸ μὴ εἰδέναι, τίνα ἐστὶ συμφέροντα καὶ ἀσύμφορα; οὐχὶ ὁ μὲν λέγει, ὅτι συμφέρει ἀποδοῦναι τῷ πατρὶ τὴν Χρυσηίδα, ὁ δὲ λέγει, ὅτι οὐ συμφέρει; οὐχὶ ὁ μὲν λέγει, ὅτι δεῖ αὐτὸν λαβεῖν τὸ ἄλλου γέρας, ὁ δέ, ὅτι οὐ δεῖ; οὐχὶ διὰ ταῦτα ἐπελάθοντο καὶ τίνες ἦσαν καὶ ἐπὶ τί ἐληλύθεσαν;

[22] ἔα, ἄνθρωπε, ἐπὶ τί ἐλήλυθας; ἐρωμένας κτησόμενος ἢ πολεμήσων; πολεμήσων. τίσι; τοῖς Τρωσὶν ἢ τοῖς Ἕλλησιν; τοῖς Τρωσίν. ἀφεὶς οὖν τὸν Ἕκτορα ἐπὶ τὸν βασιλέα τὸν σαυτοῦ σπᾷς τὸ ξίφος;

[23] σὺ δʼ, ὦ βέλτιστε, ἀφεὶς τὰ τοῦ βασιλέως ἔργα,

ᾧ λαοί τʼ ἐπιτετράφαται καὶ τόσσα μέμηλεν,

περὶ κορασιδίου διαπυκτεύεις τῷ πολεμικωτάτῳ τῶν συμμάχων, ὃν δεῖ παντὶ τρόπῳ περιέπειν καὶ φυλάττειν; καὶ χείρων γίνῃ κομψοῦ ἀρχιερέως, ὃς τοὺς καλοὺς μονομάχους διὰ πάσης ἐπιμελείας ἔχει; ὁρᾷς, οἷα ποιεῖ ἄγνοια περὶ τῶν συμφερόντων;

[24] ἀλλὰ κἀγὼ πλούσιός εἰμι. μή τι οὖν τοῦ Ἀγαμέμνονος πλουσιώτερος; ἀλλὰ καὶ καλός εἰμι. μή τι οὖν τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως καλλίων; ἀλλὰ καὶ κόμιον κομψὸν ἔχω. ὁ δʼ Ἀχιλλεὺς οὐ κάλλιον καὶ ξανθόν; καὶ οὐκ ἐκτένιζεν αὐτὸ κομψῶς οὐδʼ ἔπλασσεν.

[25] ἀλλὰ καὶ ἰσχυρός εἰμι. μή τι οὖν δύνασαι λίθον ἆραι ἡλίκον ὁ Ἕκτωρ ἢ ὁ Αἴας; ἀλλὰ καὶ εὐγενής. μή τι ἐκ θεᾶς μητρός, μή τι πατρὸς ἐγγόνου Διός; τί οὖν ἐκεῖνον ὠφελεῖ ταῦτα, ὅταν καθήμενος κλαίῃ διὰ τὸ κορασίδιον; ἀλλὰ ῥήτωρ εἰμί.

[26] ἐκεῖνος δʼ οὐκ ἦν; οὐ βλέπεις πῶς κέχρηται τοῖς δεινοτάτοις τῶν Ἑλλήνων περὶ λόγους Ὀδυσσεῖ καὶ Φοίνικι, πῶς αὐτοὺς ἀστόμους πεποίηκε;

[27] ταῦτά σοι μόνα ἔχω εἰπεῖν καὶ οὐδὲ ταῦτα προθύμως. — διὰ τί; — ὅτι με οὐκ ἠρέθισας.

[28] εἰς τί γὰρ ἀπιδὼν ἐρεθισθῶ ὡς οἱ ἱππικοὶ περὶ τοὺς ἵππους τοὺς εὐφυεῖς; εἰς τὸ σωμάτιον; αἰσχρῶς αὐτὸ πλάσσεις. εἰς τὴν ἐσθῆτα; καὶ ταύτην τρυφερὰν ἔχεις. εἰς σχῆμα, εἰς βλέμμα;

[29] εἰς οὐδέν. ὅταν ἀκοῦσαι θέλῃς φιλοσόφου, μὴ λέγε αὐτῷ ὅτι οὐδέν μοι λέγεις, ἀλλὰ μόνον δείκνυε σαυτὸν τοῦ ἀκούειν καὶ ὄψει, πῶς κινήσεις τὸν λέγοντα.

πῶς ἀναγκαῖα τὰ λογικά.

[1] τῶν παρόντων δέ τινος εἰπόντος Πεῖσόν με, ὅτι τὰ λογικὰ χρήσιμά ἐστιν, Θέλεις, ἔφη, ἀποδείξω σοι τοῦτο;

[2] — ναί. — οὐκοῦν λόγον μʼ ἀποδεικτικὸν διαλεχθῆναι δεῖ; — ὁμολογήσαντος δὲ Πόθεν οὖν εἴσῃ, ἄν σε σοφίσωμαι;

[3] — σιωπήσαντος δὲ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου Ὁρᾷς, ἔφη, πῶς αὐτὸς ὁμολογεῖς ὅτι ταῦτα ἀναγκαῖά ἐστιν, εἰ χωρὶς αὐτῶν οὐδʼ αὐτὸ τοῦτο δύνασαι μαθεῖν, πότερον ἀναγκαῖα ἢ οὐκ ἀναγκαῖά ἐστιν.

τί τὸ ἴδιον τοῦ ἁμαρτήματος.

[1] πᾶν ἁμάρτημα μάχην περιέχει. ἐπεὶ γὰρ ὁ ἁμαρτάνων οὐ θέλει ἁμαρτάνειν, ἀλλὰ κατορθῶσαι, δῆλον ὅτι ὃ μὲν θέλει οὐ ποιεῖ.

[2] τί γὰρ ὁ κλέπτης θέλει πρᾶξαι; τὸ αὑτῷ συμφέρον. οὐκ οὖν, εἰ ἀσύμφορόν ἐστιν αὐτῷ τὸ κλέπτειν, ὃ μὲν θέλει ποιεῖ.

[3] πᾶσα δὲ ψυχὴ λογικὴ φύσει διαβέβληται πρὸς μάχην· καὶ μέχρι μὲν ἂν μὴ παρακολουθῇ τούτῳ, ὅτι ἐν μάχῃ ἐστίν, οὐδὲν κωλύεται τὰ μαχόμενα ποιεῖν· παρακολουθήσαντα δὲ πολλὴ ἀνάγκη ἀποστῆναι τῆς μάχης καὶ φυγεῖν οὕτως ὡς καὶ ἀπὸ τοῦ ψεύδους ἀνανεῦσαι πικρὰ ἀνάγκη τῷ αἰσθανομένῳ, ὅτι ψεῦδός ἐστιν· μέχρι δὲ τοῦτο μὴ φαντάζηται, ὡς ἀληθεῖ ἐπινεύει αὐτῷ.

[4] δεινὸς οὖν ἐν λόγῳ, ὁ δʼ αὐτὸς καὶ προτρεπτικὸς καὶ ἐλεγκτικὸς οὗτος ὁ δυνάμενος ἑκάστῳ παραδεῖξαι τὴν μάχην, καθʼ ἣν ἁμαρτάνει, καὶ σαφῶς παραστῆσαι, πῶς ὃ θέλει οὐ ποιεῖ καὶ ὃ μὴ θέλει ποιεῖ.

[5] ἂν γὰρ τοῦτο δείξῃ τις, αὐτὸς ἀφʼ αὑτοῦ ἀναποχωρήσει. μέχρι δὲ μὴ δεικνύῃς, μὴ θαύμαζε, εἰ ἐπιμένει· κατορθώματος γὰρ φαντασίαν λαμβάνων ποιεῖ αὐτό.

[6] διὰ τοῦτο καὶ Σωκράτης ταύτῃ τῇ δυνάμει πεποιθὼς ἔλεγεν ὅτι ἐγὼ ἄλλον μὲν οὐδένα εἴωθα παρέχειν μάρτυρα ὧν λέγω, ἀρκοῦμαι δʼ ἀεὶ τῷ προσδιαλεγομένῳ καὶ ἐκεῖνον ἐπιψηφίζω καὶ καλῶ μάρτυρα καὶ εἷς ὢν οὗτος ἀρκεῖ μοι ἀντὶ πάντων.

[7] ᾔδει γάρ, ὑπὸ τίνος λογικὴ ψυχὴ κινεῖται, ζυγῷ ἐπιρρέψει, ἄν τε θέλῃς ἄν τε μή. λογικῷ ἡγεμονικῷ δεῖξον μάχην καὶ ἀποστήσεται· ἂν δὲ μὴ δεικνύῃς, αὐτὸς σαυτῷ μᾶλλον ἐγκάλει ἢ τῷ μὴ πειθομένῳ.

Translations (1)

The Discourses of Epictetus Perseus (Epictetus. The Works of Epictetus, His Discourses, in Four Books, the Enchiridion, and Fragments. Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, translator. New York: Thomas Nelson and Sons. 1890.) — 2 focus

That courage is not inconsistent with caution.

There is an assertion of the philosophers which may perhaps appear a paradox to many; yet let us fairly examine whether it be true,—that it is possible, in all things, to act at once with caution and courage. For caution seems, in some measure, contrary to courage; and contraries are by no means consistent. The appearance of a paradox in the present case seems to me to arise as follows. If indeed we assert that courage and caution are to be used in the same instances, we might justly be accused of uniting contradictions; but in the way that we affirm it, where is the absurdity? For if what has been so often said, and so often demonstrated, be certain, that the essence of good and evil consists in the use of things as they appear, and that things inevitable are not to be classed either as good or evil, what paradox do the philosophers assert, if they say, Where events are inevitable, meet them with courage, but otherwise with caution? For in these last cases only, if evil lies in a perverted will, is caution to be used; and if things inevitable and uncontrollable are nothing to us, in these we are to make use of courage. Thus we shall be at once cautious and courageous, and, indeed, courageous on account of this very caution; for by using caution with regard to things really evil, we shall gain courage with regard to what are not so.

But we are in the same condition with deer; when these in a fright fly from the plumes [which hunters wave], whither do they turn, and to what do they retire for safety? To the nets. And thus they are undone, by inverting the objects of fear and confidence. Thus we, too. When do we yield to fear? About things inevitable. When, on the other hand, do we behave with courage, as if there were nothing to be dreaded? About things that might be controlled by will. To be deceived, then, or to act rashly or imprudently, or to indulge a scandalous desire, we treat as of no importance, in our effort to bring about things which we cannot, after all, control. But where death, or exile, or pain, or ignominy, is concerned, then comes the retreat, the flutter, and the fright. Hence, as it must be with those who err in matters of the greatest importance, we turn what should be courage into rashness, desperation, recklessness, effrontery; and what should be caution becomes timid, base, and full of fears and perturbations. Let one apply his spirit of caution to things within the reach of his own will, then he will have the subject of avoidance within his own control; but if he transfers it to that which is inevitable, trying to shun that which he cannot control and others can, then he must needs fear, be harassed, and be disturbed. For it is not death or pain that is to be dreaded, but the fear of pain or death. Hence we commend him who says:

Death is no ill, but shamefully to die.

Euripides, Fragments.—H.

Courage, then, ought to be opposed to death, and caution to the fear of death; whereas we, on the contrary, oppose to death, flight; and to these our false convictions concerning it, recklessness, and desperation, and assumed indifference.

Socrates used, very properly, to call these things masks; for as masks appear shocking and formidable to children from their inexperience, so we are thus affected with regard to things for no other reason. For what constitutes a child? Ignorance. What constitutes a child? Want of instruction; for they are our equals, so far as their degree of knowledge permits. What is death? A mask. Turn it on the other side and be convinced. See, it doth not bite. This little body and spirit must be again, as once, separated, either now or hereafter; why, then, are you displeased if it be now? For if not now it will be hereafter. Why? To fulfil the course of the universe; for that hath need of some things present, others to come, and others already completed.

What is pain? A mask. Turn it and be convinced.

This weak flesh is sometimes affected by harsh, sometimes by smooth impressions. If suffering be beyond endurance, the door is open; till then, bear it. It is fit that the final door should be open against all accidents, since thus we escape all trouble.

What, then, is the fruit of these principles? What it ought to be; the most noble, and the most suitable to the wise,—tranquillity, security, freedom. For in this case we are not to give credit to the many, who say that none ought to be educated but the free; but rather to the philosophers, who say that the wise alone are free.

How so?

Thus: is freedom anything else than the power of living as we like?

Nothing else. Well; tell me then, do you like to live in error? We do not. No one who lives in error is free.

Do you like to live in fear? Do you like to live in sorrow? Do you like to live in perturbation?

By no means.

No one, therefore, in a state of fear, or sorrow, or perturbation, is free; but whoever is delivered from sorrow, fear, and perturbation, by the same means is delivered likewise from slavery. How shall we believe you, then, good legislators, when you say, We allow none to be educated but the free? For the philosophers say, We allow none to be free but the wise; that is, God doth not allow it.

What, then; when any person hath turned his slave about before the consul,¹ has he done nothing?

Yes, he has.

What?

He has turned his slave about before the consul.

Nothing more?

Yes. He pays a fine for him.

Well, then; is not the man who has gone through this ceremony rendered free?

Only so far as he is emancipated from perturbation. Pray, have you, who are able to give this freedom to others, no master of your own? Are you not a slave to money; to a girl; to a boy; to a tyrant; to some friend of a tyrant? Else why do you tremble when any one of these is in question? Therefore, I so often repeat to you, let this be your study and constant pursuit, to learn in what it is necessary to be courageous, and in what cautious; courageous against the inevitable, cautious so far as your will can control.

But have I not read my essay to you? Do not you know what I am doing?

In what?

In my essays.

Show me in what state you are as to desires and aversions; whether you do not fail of what you wish, and incur what you would avoid; but, as to these commonplace essays, if you are wise, you will take them, and destroy them.

Why? Did not Socrates write?

Yes; who so much? But how? As he had not always one at hand to argue against his principles, or be argued against in his turn, he argued with and examined himself, and always made practical application of some one great principle at least. These are the things which a philosopher writes; but such commonplaces as those of which I speak he leaves to the foolish, or to the happy creatures whom idleness furnishes with leisure, or to such as are too weak to regard consequences. And yet will you, when opportunity offers, come forward to exhibit and read aloud such things, and take a pride in them?

Pray, see how I compose dialogues.

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, never to fail nor fall. Let others study cases, problems, and syllogisms. Do you rather contemplate death, change, torture, exile; and all these with courage, and reliance upon Him who hath called you to them, and judged you worthy a post in which you may show what reason can do when it encounters the inevitable. And thus this paradox ceases to be a paradox, that we must be at once cautious and courageous; courageous against the inevitable, and cautious when events are within our own control.

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 mind in harmony with nature, you are entirely safe; everything 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 restrained or compelled, who shall compel you to desires contrary to your principles; to aversions contrary to your opinion? 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 victory; 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? have attended to my own work. What mean you? have done nothing unjust, either in public or in private life.

But if you wish to retain possession of outward things 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 externals, be a slave wholly; do not struggle, and be alternately willing and unwilling, but be simply and thoroughly the one or the other, _ —free, or a slave; instructed, or ignorant; 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.

If both alternatives be shameful, learn immediately to distinguish where good and evil lie. They lie where truth likewise lies. Where truth and nature dictate, there exercise caution or courage. Why, do you think that if Socrates had concerned himself about externals, he would have said, when he appeared at his trial, Anytus and Melitus may indeed kill me, but hurt me they cannot? Was he so foolish as not to see that this way did not lead to safety, but the contrary? What, then, is the reason that he not only disregarded, but defied, his judges? Thus my friend Heraclitus, in a trifling suit about a little estate at Rhodes , after having proved to the judges that his cause was good, when he came to the conclusion of his speech, will not entreat you, said he; nor be anxious as to what judgment you give; for it is rather you who are to be judged, than I. And thus he lost his suit. What need was there of this? Be content not to entreat; yet do not proclaim that you will not entreat; unless it be a proper time to provoke the judges designedly, as in the case of Socrates. But if you too are preparing such a speech as his, what do you wait for? Why do you consent to be tried? For if you wish to be hanged, have patience, and the gibbet will come. But if you choose rather to consent, and make your defence as well as you can, all the rest is to be. ordered accordingly, with a due regard, however, to the preservation of your own proper character.

For this reason it is absurd to call upon me for specific advice. How should I know what to advise you? Ask me rather to teach you to accommodate yourself to whatever may be the event. The former is just as if an illiterate person should say; Tell me how to write down some name that is proposed to me; and I show him how to write the name of Dion; and then another comes, and asks him to write the name, not of Dion, but of Theon. What will be the consequence? What will he write? Whereas, if you make writing your study, you are ready prepared for whatever word may occur; if not, how can I advise you? For if the actual case should suggest something else, what will you say, or how will you act? Remember, then, the general rule, and you will need no special suggestions; but if you are absorbed in externals, you must necessarily be tossed up and down, according to the inclination of your master.

Who is your master? Whosoever controls those things which you seek or shun.

Concerning such as recommend persons to the philosophers.

Diogenes rightly answered one who desired letters of recommendation from him: At first sight he will know you to be a man; and whether you are a good or a bad man, if he has any skill in distinguishing, he will know likewise; and if he has not, he will never know it, though I should write a thousand times. Just as if you were a piece of coin, and should desire to be recommended to any person as good, in order to be tried; if it be to an assayer, he will know your value, for you will recommend yourself.

We ought, therefore, in life also to have something analogous to this skill in gold; that one may be able to say, like the assayer, Bring me whatever piece you will, and I will find out its value; or, as I would say with regard to syllogisms, Bring me whomsoever you will, and I will distinguish for you whether he knows how to solve syllogisms, or not. Why? Because I can do that myself, and have that faculty which is necessary for one who can discern persons skilled in such solutions. But how do I act in life? I sometimes call a thing good, at other times bad. What is the cause of this? Something contrary to whit occurs to me in syllogisms,—ignorance and inexperience.

Concerning a man who had been guilty of adultery.

Just as he was once saying that man is made for fidelity, and that whoever subverts this subverts the peculiar property of man, there entered one of the so-called literary men, who had been found guilty of adultery in that city. But, continued Epictetus, if, laying aside that fidelity for which we were born, we form designs against the wife of our neighbor, what do we? What else but destroy and ruin—what? Fidelity, honor, and sanctity of manners. Only these? And do not we ruin neighborhood, friendship, our country? In what rank do we then place ourselves? How am I to consider you, sir,—as a neighbor; a friend? What sort of one? As a citizen? How shall I trust you? Indeed, if you were some potsherd, so noisome that no use could be made of you, you might be thrown on a dunghill, and no mortal would take the trouble to pick you up; but if, being a man, you cannot fill any one place in human society, what shall we do with you? For, suppose you cannot hold the place of a friend, can you hold even that of a slave? And who will trust you? Why, then, should not you also be contented to be thrown upon some dunghill, as a useless vessel, and indeed as worse than that? Will you say, after this, Has no one any regard for me, a man of letters? Why, you are wicked, and fit for no use. Just as if wasps should take it ill that no one has any regard for them, but all shun, and whoever can, beats them down. You have such a sting that whoever you strike with it is thrown into troubles and sorrows. What would you have us do with you? There is nowhere to place you.

What, then; are not women made by nature accessible to all?

I admit it; and so is food at table accessible to those who are invited. But, after it is distributed, will you go and snatch away the share of him who sits next you; or slyly steal it, or stretch out your hand, and taste; and if you cannot tear away any of the meat, dip your fingers and lick them? A fine companion! A Socratic guest indeed! Again, is not the theatre common to all the citizens? Therefore come, when all are seated, if you dare, and turn any one of them out of his place. In this sense only are women accessible by nature; but when the laws, like a good host, have distributed them, cannot you, like the rest of the company, be contented with your own share, but must you pilfer, and taste what belongs to another?

But I am a man of letters, and understand Archedemus.

With all your understanding of Archedemus, then, you will be an adulterer and a rogue; and instead of a man, a wolf or an ape. For where is the difference?

How nobleness of mind may be consistent with prudence.

The materials of action are variable, but the use we make of them should be constant.

How, then, shall one combine composure and tranquillity with energy; doing nothing rashly, nothing carelessly?

By imitating those who play at games. The dice are variable; the pieces are variable. 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 consider and discriminate things, and say, Externals are not in my power; choice is. Where shall I seek good and evil? Within; in what is my own. But in what is controlled 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; and at the same time with calmness and tranquillity, because the materials themselves are uncertain. For where a thing is not uncertain, there no one can restrain or compel me. Where I am capable of being restrained or compelled, the acquisition does not depend upon me; nor is it either good or evil. The use of it, indeed, is either good or evil; but that does depend upon me. 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 sinking; 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 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 fever? For, in some way or other, pass I must.

This you may see to be the practice of those who play skilfully at ball. No one strives for the ball itself, as either a good or an evil; but how he may throw and catch it again. Here lies the address, here the art, the nimbleness, the skill; lest I fail to catch it, even when I open my breast for it, while another catches it whenever I throw it. But if we catch or throw it in fear and trembling, what kind of play will this be? How shall we keep ourselves steady, or how see the order of the game? One will say, throw; another, do not throw; a third, you have thrown once already. This is a mere quarrel, not a play. Therefore Socrates well understood playing at ball.

What do you mean?

When he joked at his trial. Tell me, said he, Anytus, how can you say that I do not believe in a God? What do you think demons are? Are they not either the offspring of the gods, or compounded of gods and men? Yes. Do you think, then, that one can believe there are mules, and not believe that there are asses? This was just as if he had been playing at ball. And what was the ball he had to play with? Life, chains, exile, a draught of poison, separation from a wife, and leaving his children orphans. These were what he had to play with; and yet he did play, and threw the ball with address. Thus we should be careful as to the play, but indifferent as to the ball. We are by all means to manage our materials with art,—not taking them for the best, but showing our art about them, whatever they may happen to be. Thus a weaver does not make the wool, but employs his art upon what is given him. It is another who gives you food and property, and may take them away, and your paltry body too. Do you, however, work upon the materials you have received; and then, if you come off unhurt, others, no doubt, who meet you, will congratulate you on your escape. But he who has a clearer insight into such things will praise and congratulate you if he sees you to have done well; but if you owe your escape to any unbecoming action, he will do the contrary. For where there is a reasonable cause for rejoicing, there is cause likewise for congratulation.

How, then, are some external circumstances said to be according to nature; others contrary to it?

Only when we are viewed as isolated individuals. I will allow that it is natural for the foot (for instance) to be clean. But if you take it as a foot, and not as a mere isolated thing, it will be fit that it should walk in the dirt, and tread upon thorns; and sometimes that it should even be cut off, for the good of the whole; otherwise it is no longer a foot. We should reason in some such manner concerning ourselves. Who are you? A man. If then, indeed, you consider yourself isolatedly, it is natural that you should live to old age, should be prosperous and healthy; but if you consider yourself as a man, and as a part of the whole, it will be fit, in view of that whole, that you should at one time be sick; at another, take a voyage, and be exposed to danger; sometimes be in want; and possibly die before your time. Why, then, are you displeased? Do not you know that otherwise, just as the other ceases to be a foot, so you are no longer a man? For what is a man? A part of a commonwealth; first and chiefly of that which includes both gods and men; and next, of that to which you immediately belong, which is a miniature of the universal city.

What, then; must I, at one time, go before a tribunal; must another, at another time, be scorched by a fever; another be exposed to the sea; another die; another be condemned?

Yes; for it is impossible, in such a body, in such a world, and among such companions, but that some one or other of us must meet with such circumstances. Your business, then, is simply to say what you ought, to order things as the case requires. After this comes some one and says, pronounce that you have acted unjustly. Much good may it do you; I have done my part. You are to look to it, whether you have done yours; for you may as well understand that there is some danger in that quarter also.

Of circumstances.²

A process of reasoning may be an indifferent thing; but our judgment concerning it is not indifferent; for it is either knowledge, or opinion, or mistake. So the events of life occur indifferently, but the use of it is not indifferent. When you are told, therefore, that these things are indifferent, do not, on that account, ever be careless; nor yet, when you are governed by prudence, be abject, and dazzled by externals. It is good to know your own qualifications and powers; that, where you are not qualified, you may be quiet, and not angry that others have there the advantage of you. For you too will think it reasonable, that you should have the advantage in the art of reasoning; and, if others should be angry at it, you will tell them, by way of consolation, This I have learned, and you have not. Thus too, wherever practice is necessary, do not pretend to what can only be attained by practice; but leave the matter to those who are practised, and do you be contented in your own serenity.

Go, for instance, and pay your court to such a person. How? I will not do it abjectly. So I find myself shut out; for I have not learned to get in at the window, and finding the door shut, I must necessarily either go back, or get in at the window. But speak to him at least. I am willing. In what manner? Not basely at any rate. Well, you have failed. This is not your business, but his. Why do you claim what belongs to another? Always remember what is your own, and what is another’s, and you will never be disturbed.

Hence Chrysippus rightly says: While consequences 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. For why are ears of corn produced, if it be not to ripen? And why do they ripen, if not to be reaped? For they are not isolated, individual things. If they were capable of sense, do you think they would wish never to be reaped? It would be a curse upon ears of corn not to be reaped, and we ought to know that it would be a curse upon man not to die; like that of not ripening, and not being reaped. Since, then, it is necessary for us to be reaped, and we have at the same time understanding to know it, are we angry at it? This is only because we neither know what we are, nor have we studied what belongs to man, as jockeys do what belongs to horses. Yet Chrysantas, when he was about to strike an enemy, on hearing the trumpet sound a retreat, drew back his hand; for he thought it more eligible to obey the command of his general, than his own inclination.³ But not one of us, even when necessity calls, is ready and willing to obey it; but we weep and groan over painful events, calling them our circumstances. What circumstances, man? For if you call what surrounds you circumstances, everything is a circumstance; but if by this you mean hardships, where is the hardship, that whatever is born must die? The instrument is either a sword, or a wheel, or the sea, or a 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 tumor 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 earthquakes? And when you yourself recross the Adriatic, what is then in danger? Is it not your life?

Ay, and my convictions also.

What, your own? How so? Can any one compel you to have any convictions contrary to your own inclination?

But the convictions of others too.

And what danger is it of yours, if others have false convictions?

But I am in danger of being 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?⁴

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 ingenuous 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. Only remember the distinction between what is your own and what is not your own, and you will never claim what belongs to others. Judicial bench or dungeon, each is but a place,—one high, the other low; but your will is equal to either condition, and if you have a mind to keep it so, it may be so kept. We shall then become imitators of Socrates, when, even in a prison, we are able to write hymns of praise;⁵ but as we now are, consider whether we could even bear to have another say to us in prison, Shall I read you a hymn of praise? Why do you trouble me; do you not know my sad situation? In such circumstances, am I able to hear hymns? What circumstances? I am going to die. And are all other men to be immortal?

Of divination.

From an unseasonable regard to divination, we omit many duties; for what can the diviner contemplate besides death, danger, sickness, and such matters? When it is necessary, then, to expose one’s self to danger for a friend, or even a duty to die for him, what occasion have I for divination? Have not I a diviner within, who has told me the essence of good and evil, and who explains to me the indications of both? What further need, then, have I of signs or auguries? Can I tolerate the other diviner, when he says, This is for your interest? For does he know what is for my interest? Does he know what good is? Has he learned the indications of good and evil, as he has those of the victims? If so, he knows the indications likewise of fair and base, just and unjust. You may predict to me, sir, what is to befall me,—life or death, riches or poverty. But whether these things are for my interest or not, I shall not inquire of you. Why? Because you cannot even give an opinion about points of grammar; and do you give it here, in things about which all men differ and dispute? Therefore the lady who was going to send a month’s provision to Gratilla,⁶ in *her banishment, made a right answer to one who told her that Domitian would seize it. I had rather, said she, that he should seize it, than I not send it.

What, then, is it that leads us so often to divination? Cowardice; the dread of events. Hence we flatter the diviners. Pray, sir, shall I inherit my father’s estate? Let us see; let us sacrifice upon the occasion. Nay, sir, just as fortune pleases. Then if he predicts that we shall inherit it, we give him thanks, as if we received the inheritance from him. The consequence of this is, that they impose upon us.

What, then, is to be done?

We should come without previous desire or aversion; as a traveller inquires the road of the person he meets, without any desire for that which turns to the right hand, more than for that to the left; for he wishes for neither of these, but only for that road which leads him properly. Thus we should come to God as to a guide,—just as we make use of our eyes; not persuading them to show us one object rather than another, but receiving such as they present to us. But now we conduct the augury with fear and trembling, and in our invocations to God, entreat him: Lord, have mercy upon me, suffer me to come off safe. Foolish man! would you have anything then but what is best? And what is best but what pleases God? Why would you then, so far as in you lies, corrupt your judge and seduce your adviser?

Wherein consists the essence of good.

God is beneficial. Good is also beneficial. It should seem, then, that where the essence of God is, there too is the essence of good. What then is the essence of God,—flesh? By no means. An estate? Fame? By no means. Intelligence? Knowledge? Right reason? Certainly. Here, then, without more ado, seek the essence of good. For do you seek that quality in a plant? No. Or in a brute? No. If, then, you seek it only in a rational subject, why do you seek it anywhere but in what distinguishes that from things irrational? Plants make no voluntary use of things, and therefore you do not apply the term of good to them. Good, then, implies such use. And nothing else? If so, you may say that good and-happiness and unhappiness belong to mere animals. But this you do not say, and you are right; for, how much soever they have the use of things, they have not the intelligent use, and with good reason; for they are made to be subservient to others, and not of primary importance. Why was an ass made? Was it as being of primary importance? No; but because we had need of a back able to carry burdens. We had need too that he should be capable of locomotion; therefore he had the voluntary use of things added, otherwise he could not have moved. But here his endowments end; for, if an understanding of that use had been likewise added, he would not, in reason, have been subject to us, nor have done us these services, but would have been like and equal to ourselves. Why will you not, therefore, seek the essence of good in that without which you cannot say that there is good in anything?

What then? Are not all these likewise the works of the gods? They are; but not primary existences, nor parts of the gods. But you are a primary existence. You are a distinct portion of the essence of God, and contain a certain part of him in yourself. Why then are you ignorant of your noble birth? Why do not you consider whence you came? Why do not you remember, when you are eating, who you are who eat, and whom you feed? When you are in the company of women, when you are conversing, when you are exercising, when you are disputing, do not you know that it is 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. If the mere external image of God were present, you would not dare to act as you do; and when God himself is within you, and hears and sees all, are not you ashamed to think and act thus,—insensible of your own nature, and at enmity with God?

Why, then, are we afraid, when we send a young man from the school into active life, that he should behave indecently, eat indecently, converse indecently with women; that he should either debase himself by slovenliness, or clothe himself too finely? Knows he not the God within him? Knows he not in what company he goes? It is provoking to hear him say [to his instructor], wish to have you with me. Have you not God? Do you seek any other, while you have him? Or will He tell you any other things than these? If you were a statue of Phidias. as Zeus or Athena, you would remember both yourself 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 anything but marble, or brass, or gold, or ivory? And the Athena of Phidias, when its hand is once extended, and a Victory placed in it, remains in that attitude forever. 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, dishonor the trust? If God had committed some orphan to your charge, would you have been thus careless of him? He has delivered yourself to your care; and says, had no one fitter to be trusted than you; preserve this person for me, such as he is by nature,—modest, faithful, noble, unterrified, 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 accepted. I still fear my own weakness. Let me but take courage a little, and then you shall see such a look, and such an appearance, 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.

Iliad, 1.526

Such will I show myself to you; faithful, modest, noble, tranquil.

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. Shall I show you the muscular training of a philosopher?

What muscles are those?

A will undisappointed, evils avoided, powers duly exerted, careful resolutions, unerring decisions.

These you shall see.

That some persons, failing to fulfil what the character of a man implies, assume that of a philosopher.

It were no slight attainment, could we merely fulfil what the nature of man implies. For what is man? A rational and mortal being. Well; from what are we distinguished by reason? From wild beasts. From what else? From sheep, and the like.

Take care, then, to do nothing like a wild beast; otherwise you have destroyed the man; you have not fulfilled what your nature promises. Take care too, to do nothing like cattle; for thus likewise the man is destroyed.

In what do we act like cattle?

When we act gluttonously, lewdly, rashly, sordidly, inconsiderately, into what are we sunk? Into cattle. What have we destroyed? The rational being.

When we behave contentiously, injuriously, passionately, and violently, into what have we sunk? Into wild beasts.

And further, some of us are wild beasts of a larger size; others little mischievous vermin, such as suggest the proverb, Let me rather be eaten by a lion.

By all these means, that is destroyed which the nature of man implies.

For when is a conjunctive proposition sustained? When it fulfils what its nature implies. So then the sustaining of such a proposition consists in this, that its several parts remain a series of truths.

When is a disjunctive proposition sustained? When it fulfils what its nature implies.

When is a flute, a harp, a horse, or a dog, preserved in existence? While each fulfils what its nature implies.

Where is the wonder, then, that manhood should be preserved or destroyed in the same manner? All things are preserved and improved by exercising their proper functions; as a carpenter, by building; a grammarian, by grammar; but if he permit himself to write ungrammatically, his art will necessarily be spoiled and destroyed. Thus modest actions preserve the modest man, and immodest ones destroy him; faithful actions preserve the faithful man, and the contrary destroy him. On the other hand, the contrary actions heighten the contrary characters. Thus the practice of immodesty develops an immodest character; knavery, a knavish one; slander, a slanderous one; anger, an angry one; and fraud, a covetous one.

For this reason, philosophers advise us not to be contented with mere learning, but to add meditation likewise, and then practice. For we have been long accustomed to perverse actions, and have practised upon wrong opinions. If, therefore, we do not likewise habituate ourselves to practise upon right opinions, we shall be nothing more than expositors of the abstract doctrines of others. For who among us is not already able to discourse, according to the rules of art, upon good and evil?— That some things are good, some evil, and others indifferent; the good include the virtues and all things appertaining; the evil comprise the contrary; and the indifferent include riches, health, reputation; and then, if while we are saying all this, there should happen some more than ordinary noise, or one of the by-standers should laugh at us, we are disconcerted. Philosopher, what is become of what you were saying? Whence did it proceed,—merely from your lips? Why, then, do you confound the remedies which might be useful to others? Why do you trifle on the most important subjects? It is one thing to hoard up provision in a storehouse, and another to eat it. What is eaten is assimilated, digested, and becomes nerves, flesh, bones, blood, color, breath. Whatever is hoarded is ready indeed, whenever you desire to show it; but is of no further use to you than in the mere knowledge that you have it.

For what difference does it make whether you discourse on these doctrines, or those of the heterodox? Sit down and comment skilfully on Epicurus, for instance; perhaps you may comment more profitable than himself. Why then do you call yourself a Stoic? Why do you act like a Jew, when you are a Greek? Do not you see on what terms each is called a Jew, a Syrian, an Egyptian? And when we see any one wavering, we are wont to say, This is not a Jew, but only acts like one. But, when he assumes the sentiments of one who has been baptized and circumcised, then he both really is, and is called, a Jew. Thus we, falsifying our profession, may be Jews in name, but are in reality something else. We are inconsistent with our own discourse; we are far from practising what we teach, and what we pride ourselves on knowing. Thus, while we are unable to fulfil what the character of a man implies, we are ready to assume besides so vast a weight as that of a philosopher. As if a person, incapable of lifting ten pounds, should endeavor to heave the same stone with Ajax.

How we may infer the duties of life from its nominal functions.

Consider who you are. In the first place, a man; that is, one who recognizes nothing superior to the faculty of free will, but all things as subject to this; and this itself as not to be enslaved or subjected to anything. Consider, then, from what you are distinguished by reason. You are distinguished from wild beasts; you are distinguished from cattle. Besides, you are a citizen of the universe, and a part of it; not a subordinate, but a principal part. You are capable of comprehending the Divine economy, and of considering the connections of things. What then does the character of a citizen imply? To hold no private interest; to deliberate of nothing as a separate individual, but rather like the hand or the foot, which, if they had reason, and comprehended the constitution of nature, would never pursue, or desire, but with a reference to the whole. Hence the philosophers rightly say, that, if it were possible for a wise and good man to foresee what was to happen, he might co-operate in bringing on himself sickness, and death, and mutilation, being sensible that these things are appointed in the order of the universe; and that the whole is superior to a part. and the city to the citizen. But, since we do not foreknow what is to happen, it becomes our duty to hold to what is more agreeable to our choice, for this too is a part of our birthright.

Remember next, that perhaps you are a son, and what does this character imply? To esteem everything that is his, as belonging to his father; in every instance to obey him; not to revile him to any one; not to say or do anything injurious to him; to give way and yield in everything, co-operating with him to the utmost of his power.

After this, know likewise, that you are a brother too; and that to this character it 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 yourself a good temper. How great an advantage gained!

If, beside this, you are a senator of any city, demean yourself as a senator; if a youth, as a youth; if an old man, as an old man. For each of these names, if it comes to be considered, always points out the proper duties; but, if you go and revile your brother, I tell you that you have forgotten who you are, and what is your name. If you were a smith, and made an ill use of the hammer, you would have forgotten the smith; and if you have forgotten the brother, and are become, instead of a brother, an enemy, do you imagine you have made no change of one thing for another, in that case? If, instead of a man,—a gentle, social creature,—you have become a wild beast, mischievous, 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 grammar 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 be lost by some cause external and inevitable; but the last only by our own fault. There is no shame in not having or in losing the one; but either not to have or to lose the other is equally shameful and reproachful and unhappy. What does the debauchee lose? Manhood. What does he lose who made him such? Many things, but manhood also. What does an adulterer lose? The modest, the chaste character; the good neighbor. What does an angry person lose? A coward? Each loses his portion. No one is wicked without some loss or damage. Now if, after all, you treat the loss of money as the only damage, all these are unhurt and uninjured. Nay, they may be even gainers; as, by such practices, their money may possibly be increased. But consider; if you refer everything to money, then a man who loses his nose is not hurt. Yes, say you; he is maimed in his body. Well, but does he who loses his sense of smell itself lose nothing? Is there, then, no faculty of the soul which benefits the possessor, and which it is an injury to lose?

Of what sort do you mean?

Have we not a natural sense of honor?

We have.

Does he who loses this suffer no damage? Is he deprived of nothing? Does he part with nothing that belongs to him? Have we no natural fidelity; no natural affection; no natural disposition to mutual usefulness, to mutual forbearance? Is he, then, who carelessly suffers himself to be damaged in these respects still safe and uninjured?

What, then; shall not I injure him who has injured me?

Consider first what injury is; and remember what you have heard from the philosophers. For, if both good and evil lie in 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? Why do we not make to ourselves some such representation as this? Are we hurt when any detriment happens to our bodily possessions, and are we not at all hurt when our will is depraved? He who has erred, or injured another, has indeed no pain in his head; nor loses an eye, nor a leg, nor an estate; and we wish for nothing beyond these. Whether our will be habitually humble and faithful, or shameless and unfaithful, we regard as a thing indifferent, except only in the discussions of the schools. In that case, all the improvement we make reaches only to words; and beyond them is absolutely nothing.

The beginning of philosophy.

The beginning of philosophy, at least to such as enter upon it in a proper way, and by the door, is a consciousness of our own weakness and inability in necessary things. For we came into the world without any natural idea of a right-angled triangle; of a diesis, or a semitone, in music; but we learn each of these things by some artistic instruction. Hence, they who do not understand them do not assume to understand them. But who ever came into the world without an innate idea of good and evil, fair and base, becoming and unbecoming, happiness and misery, proper and improper; what ought to be done, and what not to be done? Hence, we all make use of the terms, and endeavor to apply our impressions to particular cases. Such a one hath acted well, not. well; right, not right; is unhappy, is happy; is just, is unjust. Which of us refrains from these terms? Who defers the use of them till he has learnt it, as those do who are ignorant of lines and sounds? The reason of this is, that we come instructed in some degree by nature upon these subjects; and from this beginning, we go on to add self-conceit. For why, say you, should I not know what fair or base is? Have I not the idea of it? You have. Do I not apply this idea to the particular instance? You do. Do I not apply it rightly, then? Here lies the whole question; and here arises the self-conceit. Beginning from these acknowledged points, men proceed, by applying them improperly, to reach the very position most questionable. For, if they knew how to apply them also, they would be all but perfect.

If you think that you know how to apply your general principles to particular cases, tell me on what you base this application.

Upon its seeming so to me.

But it does not seem so to another; and does not ne too think that he makes a right application?

He does.

Is it possible, then, that each of you should rightly apply your principles, on the very subjects about which your opinions conflict?

It is not.

Have you anything to show us, then, for this application, beyond the fact of its seeming so to you? And does a madman act any otherwise than seems to him right? Is this, then, a sufficient criterion for him too?

It is not.

Come, therefore, to some stronger ground than seeming.

What is that?

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

Is it possible that all things which seem right to all persons are so? Can things contradictory be right? We say not all things; but all that seem so to us. And why more to you than to the Syrians or Egyptians; than to me, or to any other man? Not at all more.

Therefore, what seems to each man is not sufficient to determine the reality of a thing; for even in weights and measures we are not satisfied with the bare appearance, but for everything we find some rule. And is there, then, in the present case no rule preferable to what seems? Is it possible that what is of the greatest necessity in human life should be left incapable of determination and discovery?

There must be some rule. And why do we not seek and discover it, and, when we have discovered, ever after make use of it, without fail, so as not even to move a finger without it? For this, I conceive, is what, when found, will cure those of their madness who make use of no other measure but their own perverted way of thinking. Afterwards, beginning from certain known and determinate points, we may make use of general principles, properly applied to particulars.

Thus, what is the subject that falls under our inquiry? Pleasure. Bring it to the rule. Throw it into the scale. Must good be something in which it is fit to confide, and to which we may trust? Yes. Is it fit to trust to anything unstable? No. Is pleasure, then, a stable thing? No. Take it, then, and throw it out of the scale, and drive it far distant from the place of good things.

But, if you are not quick-sighted, and one balance is insufficient, bring another. Is it fit to be elated by good? Yes. Is it fit, then, to be elated by a present pleasure? See that you do not say it is; otherwise I shall not think you so much as worthy to use a scale. Thus are things judged and weighed, when we have the rules ready. This is the part of philosophy, to examine, and fix the rules; and to make use of them, when they are known, is the business of a wise and good man.

Of disputation.

What things are to be learned, in order to the right use of reason; the philosophers of our sect have accurately taught; but we are altogether unpractised in the due application of them. Only give to any one of us whom you will some illiterate person for an antagonist, and he will not find out how to treat him. But when he has a little moved the man, if he happens to answer at cross purposes, the questioner knows not how to deal with him any further, but either reviles or laughs at him, and says: He is an illiterate fellow; there is no making anything of him. Yet a guide, when he perceives his charge going out of the way, does not revile and ridicule and then leave him, but leads him into the right path. Do you also show your antagonist the truth, and you will see that he will follow. But till you show it, do not ridicule him; but rather be sensible of your own incapacity.

How, then, did Socrates use to act? He obliged his antagonist himself to bear testimony to him; and wanted no other witness. Hence he might well say,⁷ I give up all the rest, and am always satisfied with the testimony of my opponent; and I call in no one to vote, but my antagonist alone. For he rendered the arguments drawn from natural impressions so clear, that every one saw and avoided the contradiction. Does an envious man rejoice? By no means; he rather grieves. (This he moves him to say by proposing the contrary.) Well, and do you think envy to be a grief caused by evils? And who ever envied evils? (Therefore he makes the other say, that envy is a grief caused by things good.) Does any one envy those things which are nothing to him? No, surely. Having thus fully drawn out his idea, he then leaves that point, not saying, Define to me what envy is; and after he has defined it, You have defined it wrong; for the definition does not correspond to the thing defined.

There are phrases repulsive and obscure to the illiterate, which yet we cannot dispense with. But we have no capacity at all to move them, by such arguments as might lead them, in following the methods of their own minds, to admit or abandon any position. And from a consciousness of this incapacity, those among us who have any modesty give the matter entirely up; but the greater part, rashly entering upon these debates, mutually confound and are confounded, and at last, reviling and reviled, walk off. Whereas it was the principal and most peculiar characteristic of Socrates, never to be provoked in a dispute, nor to throw out any reviling or injurious expression; but to bear patiently with those who reviled him, and thus put an end to the controversy. If you would know how great abilities he had in this particular, read Xenophon’s Banquet, and you will see how many controversies he ended. Hence, even among the poets, this is justly mentioned with the highest commendation,—

Wisely at once the greatest strife to still.

Hesiod, Theogony, 87.—H. But what then? This is no very safe affair now, and especially at Rome . For he who does it must not do it in a corer, but go to some rich consular senator, for instance, and question him. Pray, sir. can you tell me to whom you intrust your horses? Yes, certainly. Is it then to any one indifferently, though he be ignorant of horsemanship? By no means. To whom do you intrust your gold or your silver or your clothes? Not to any one indifferently; And did you ever consider to whom you committed the care of your body? Yes, surely. To one skilled in exercise or medicine, I suppose? Without doubt. Are these things your chief good, or are you possessed of something better than all of them? What do you mean? Something which makes use of these, and deliberates and counsels about each of them. What, then; do you mean the soul? You have guessed rightly; for indeed I do mean that. I do really think it a much better possession than all the rest. Can you show us, then, in what manner you have taken care of this soul? For it is not probable that a person of your wisdom and approved character in the state would carelessly suffer the most excellent thing that belongs to you to be neglected and lost. No, certainly. But do you take care of it yourself; and is it done by the instructions of another, or by your own ability?—Here, now, comes the danger that he may first say, Pray, good sir, what business is that of yours? What are you to me? Then if you persist in troubling him, he may lift up his hand and give you a box on the ear. I myself was once a great admirer of this method of instruction, till I fell into this kind of adventures.

Of anxiety.

When I see any one anxious, I say, what does this man mean? Unless he wanted something or other not in his own power, how could he still be anxious? A musician, for instance, feels no anxiety while he is singing by himself; but when he appears upon the stage he does, even if his voice be ever so good, or he plays ever so well. For what he wishes is not only to sing well, but likewise to gain applause. But this is not in his own power. In short, where his skill lies, there is his courage. Bring any ignorant person, and he does not mind him; but in the point which he neither understands nor has studied, there he is anxious.

What point is that?

He does not understand what a multitude is, nor what the applause of a multitude. He has learnt, indeed, how to sound bass and treble; but what the applause of the many is, and what force it has in life, he neither understands nor has studied. Hence he must necessarily tremble and turn pale. I cannot indeed say that a man is no musician, when I see him afraid; but I can say something else, and indeed many things. And first of all I call him a stranger, and say, this man does not know in what country he is; and though he has lived here so long, he is ignorant of the laws and customs of the state, and what is permitted and what not; nor has he ever consulted any legal adviser, who might tell and explain to him the laws. But no man writes a will without knowing how it ought to be written, or consulting some one who knows; nor does he rashly sign a bond, or give security. Yet he indulges his desires and aversions, exerts his pursuits, intentions, and resolutions, without consulting any legal adviser about the matter.

How do you mean, without a legal adviser?

He knows not when he chooses what is not allowed him, and does not choose what is necessary; and he knows not what is his own, and what belongs to others; for if he did know he would never be hindered, would never be restrained, would never be anxious.

How so? Why, does any one fear things that are not evils? No.

Does any one fear things that seem evils indeed, but which it is in his own power to prevent?

No, surely.

If, then, 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 anything 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 physician pronounces from the complexion that such a patient is disordered in the spleen, and another in the liver, so do you likewise say, this man is disordered in his desires and aversions; he cannot walk steadily; he is in a fever. 70r nothing else changes the complexion, or causes trembling, or sets the teeth chattering.

He crouching walks, or squats upon his heels.

Homer, Iliad, xiii. 281.—H.

Therefore Zeno,⁸ when he was to meet Antigonus, felt no anxiety. For over that which he prized, Antigonus had no power; and those things over which he had power, Zeno did not regard. But Antigonus felt anxiety when he was to meet Zeno, and with reason, for he was desirous to please him; and this was external ambition. But Zeno was not solicitous to please Antigonus; for no one skilful in any art is solicitous to please a person unskilful.

I am solicitous to please you.

For what? Do you know the rules by which one man judges of another? Have you studied to understand what a good and what a bad man is, and how each becomes such? Why, then, are not you yourself a good man?

In what respect am I not?

Because no good man laments or sighs or groans; no good man turns pale and trembles and says, How will such a one receive me; how will he hear me? As he thinks fit, foolish man. Why do you trouble yourself about what belongs to others? Is it not his fault if he receives you ill?

Yes, surely.

And can one person be in fault and another the sufferer?

No.

Why, then, are you anxious about what belongs to others?

Well; but I am anxious how I shall speak to him.

What, then; cannot you speak to him as you will?

But I am afraid I shall be disconcerted.

If you were going to write down the name of Dion, should you be afraid of being disconcerted?

By no means.

What is the reason? Is it because you have learned how to write?

Yes.

And if you were going to read, would it not be exactly the same?

Exactly. What is the reason?

Because every art gives a certain assurance and confidence on its own ground.

Have you not learned, then, how to speak? And what else did you study at school?

Syllogisms and convertible propositions.

For what purpose? Was it not in order to talk properly? And what is that but to talk seasonably and discreetly and intelligently, and without flutter or hesitation, and, by means of all this, with courage?

Very true.

When, therefore, you go into the field on horseback, are you anxious on being matched against one who is on foot,—you being practised and he unpractised?

Ay, but the person has power to kill me.

Then speak the truth, O unfortunate! and be not arrogant, nor take the philosopher upon you, nor conceal from yourself who are your masters; but while you are thus to be held by the body, follow the strongest. Socrates, indeed, had studied how to speak, who talked in such a manner to tyrants and judges, and in prison. Diogenes⁹ had studied how to speak, who talked in such a manner to Alexander, to Philip, to the pirates, to the person who bought him. This belonged to those who had studied the matter; who had courage. But do you go where you belong and remain there. Retire into some corner, and there sit and weave syllogisms, and propose them to others. For there is not in you a man who can rule the city.

Concerning Naso.

When a certain Roman came to him with his son, and had heard one lesson, This, said Epictetus, is the method of teaching; and ceased. When the other desired him to go on, he answered, Every art seems tedious, when it is delivered to a person ignorant and unskilful in it. The things performed by the common arts quickly manifest the use for which they were made; and most of them have something attractive and agreeable. Thus the trade of a shoemaker, as one seeks to learn it, is an unpleasant thing; but the shoe is useful, and not unpleasing to the eye. The trade of a smith is extremely unattractive to an ignorant observer; but the work shows the usefulness of the art. You will see this much more strongly in music; for if you stand by while a person is learning, it will appear to you of all sciences the most unpleasant; but the effects are agreeable and delightful, even to those who do not understand it.

So here 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 happen be desired by us. Hence they who have settled this point have it in their power never to be disappointed 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 acquired relations of son, father, brother, citizen, husband, wife, neighbor, fellow-traveller, ruler, or subject. Something like this is what we take to be the work of a philosopher. It remains to inquire, how it is to be effected. Now ,e see that a carpenter becomes a carpenter by learning certain things; and a pilot, by learning certain. things, becomes a pilot. Probably, then, it is not sufficient, in the present case, merely to be willing to be wise and good; but it is moreover 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 faithful; if free, beneficent, and noble, he must be free, beneficent, and noble likewise, in all his words and actions behaving as an imitator of God.

Whence, then, are we to begin?

If you will give me leave, I will tell you. It is necessary, in the first place, that you should understand words.

So then! I do not understand them now? No. You do not. How is it, then, that I use them?

Just as the illiterate use the words of the learned, and as brutes use the phenomena of nature. For use is one thing, and understanding another. But if you think you understand them, bring whatever words you please, and let us see whether we understand them or not.

Well; but it is a grievous thing for a man to be confuted who has grown old, and has perhaps served through his three campaigns to a senatorship.

I know it very well. For you now come to me, as if you wanted nothing. And how can it enter into your imagination that there should be anything 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 an injury. In what are you deficient? Suppose, 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 everything, rather than your duty; and to complete all, that you understand not what God or man, or good or evil, means? That you are ignorant of all the rest, perhaps, you may bear to be told; but if I prove to you that you are ignorant even of yourself, how will you bear with me, and how will you have patience to stay and be convinced? Not at all. You will immediately be offended, and go away. And yet what injury have I done you; 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? Nobody 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 contradictory, your pursuits not conformable to 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 inquire 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 considering: What then, after all, is the world? Who governs it? Has it no governor? How is it possible, when neither a city nor a house can remain, ever so short a time, 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 governor? Of what sort is he, and how 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 apprehension, they too would laugh at such as admired anything but fodder.

Concerning those who obstinately persist in whatever they have determined.

Some, when they hear such discourses as these,

That we ought to be steadfast; that the will is by nature free and unconstrained; and that all else is liable to restraint, compulsion, slavery, and tyranny, imagine that they must remain immutably fixed to everything which they have determined. But it is first necessary that the determination should be a wise one. I agree that there should be sinews in the body, but such as in a healthy, an athletic body; for if you show me that you exhibit the [convulsed] sinews of a lunatic, and value yourself upon that, I will say to you, Seek a physician, man; this is not muscular vigor, but is really enervation. Such is the distemper of mind in those who hear these discourses in a wrong manner; like an acquaintance of mine, who, for no reason, had determined to starve himself to death. I went the third day, and inquired what was the matter. He answered, am determined. Well; but what is your motive? For if your determination be right, we will stay, and assist your departure; but, if unreasonable, change it. We ought to keep our determinations. What do you mean, sir? Not all of them; but such as are right. Else, if you should fancy that it is night, if this be your principle, do not change, but persist, and say, We ought to keep to our determinations. What do you mean, sir? Not to all of them. Why do you not begin by first laying the foundation, inquiring whether your determination be a sound one or not, and then build your firmness and constancy upon it. For if you lay a rotten and crazy foundation, you must not build; since the greater and more weighty the superstructure, the sooner will it fall. Without any reason, you are withdrawing from us, out of life, a friend, a companion, a fellow-citizen both of the greater and the lesser city; and while you are committing murder, and destroying an innocent person, you say, We must keep to our determinations. Suppose, by any means, it should ever come into your head to kill me; must you keep such a determination?

With difficulty this person was, however, at last convinced; but there are some at present whom there is no convincing. So that now I think I understand, what before I did not, the meaning of that common saying, that a fool will neither bend nor break. May it never fall to my lot to have a wise, that is. an untractable, fool for my friend. It is all to no purpose; I am determined. So are madmen too; but the more strongly they are determined upon absurdities, the more need have they of hellebore. Why will you not act like a sick person, and apply yourself to a physician? Sir, I am sick. Give me your assistance; consider what I am to do. It is my part to follow your directions. So say in the present case: know not what I ought to do; and I am come to learn. No; but talk to me about other things; for upon this I am determined. What other things? What is of greater consequence, than to convince you that it is not sufficient to be determined, and to persist? This is the vigor of a madman; not of one in health. I will die, if you compel me to this. Why so, man; what is the matter? am determined. I have a lucky escape, that it is not your determination to kill me. I will not be bribed [from my purpose]. Why so? am determined. Be assured, that with that very vigor which you now employ to refuse the bribe, you may hereafter have as unreasonable a propensity to take it; and again to say, am determined. As, in a distempered and rheumatic body, the humor tends sometimes to one part, sometimes to another; thus it is uncertain which way a sickly mind will incline. But if to its inclination and bent a spasmodic vigor be likewise added, the evil then becomes desperate and incurable.

What we do not study to make use of the established principles concerning good and evil.

Where lies good? In the will. Where evil?

In the will. Where neither good nor evil? In things inevitable. What then? Does any one of us remember these lessons out of the schools? Does any one of us study how to answer for himself in the affairs of life, as in common questions? Is it day? Yes. Is it night, then? No. Is the number of stars even? cannot tell. When a bribe is offered you, have you learned to make the proper answer, that it is not a good? Have you exercised yourself in such answers as these, or only in sophistries? Why do you wonder, then, that you improve in points which you have studied; while in those which you have not studied, there you remain the same? When an orator knows that he has written well, that he has committed to memory what he has written, and that he brings an agreeable voice with him, why is he still anxious? Because he is not contented with what he has studied. What does he want then? To be applauded by the audience. He has studied the power of speaking, then; but he has not studied censure and applause. For when did he hear from any one what applause, what censure is? What is the nature of each? What kind of applause is to be sought, and what kind of censure to be shunned? And when did he ever apply himself to study what follows from these lessons? Why do you wonder, then, if, in what he has learned, he excels others; but where he has not studied, he is the same with the rest of the world? Just as a musician knows how to play, sings well, and has the proper dress of his profession, yet trembles when he comes upon the stage. For the first he understands; but what the multitude is, or what mean the clamor and laughter of the multitude, he does not understand. Nor does he even know what anxiety itself is; whether it be our own affair, or that of others; or whether it be possible to suppress it, or not. Hence, if he is applauded, he is puffed up when he makes his exit; but if he is laughed at, the inflation is punctured, and subsides.

Thus are we too affected. What do we admire? Externals. For what do we strive? Externals. And are we then in any doubt why we fear and are anxious? What is the consequence, then, when we esteem the things that are brought upon is to be evils? We cannot but fear; we cannot but be anxious. And then we say, Lord God, how shall I avoid anxiety! Have you not hands, foolish man? Has not God made them for you? You might as well kneel and pray to be cured of your catarrh. Take care of your disease, rather; and do not murmur. Well; and has he given you nothing in the present case? Has he not given you patience? Has he not given you magnanimity? Has he not given you fortitude? When you have such hands as these, do you still seek for aid from another? But we neither study nor regard these things. For give me but one who cares how he does anything, who does not regard the mete success of anything, but his own manner of acting. Who, when he is walking, regards his own action? Who, when he is deliberating, prizes the deliberation itself, and not the success that is to follow it? If it happens to succeed, he is elated, and cries, How prudently have we deliberated! Did not I tell you, my dear friend, that it was impossible, when we considered about anything, that it should not happen right? But if it miscarries, the poor wretch is dejected, and knows not what to say about the matter. Who among us ever, for such a purpose, consulted a diviner? Who of us ever slept in a temple, to be instructed [in a dream] concerning his manner of acting? I say, who? Show me one who is truly noble and ingenuous, that I may see what I have long sought. Show me either a young or an old man.

Why, then, are we still surprised, if, when we waste all our attention on the mere materials of action, we are, in the manner of action itself, low, sordid, unworthy, timid, wretched, and altogether failures? For we do not care about these things, nor make them our study. If we had feared, not death or exile, but fear itself, we should have studied not to fall into what appears to us to be evil. But as the case now stands, we are eager and loquacious in the schools; and when any little question arises about any of these things, we are prepared to trace its consequences; but drag us into practice, and you will find us miserably shipwrecked. Let something of alarming aspect attack us, and you will perceive what we have been studying, and in what we are exercised. Besides, through this negligence we always exaggerate, and represent things greater than the reality. In a voyage, for instance, casting my eyes down upon the ocean below, and looking round me, and seeing no land, I am beside myself, and imagine that, if I should be shipwrecked, I must swallow all that ocean; not does it occur to me, that. three pints are enough for me. What is it, then, that alarms me,—the ocean? No; but my own impressions. Again, in an earthquake I 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 oppresses 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 constantly before his eyes. And what is the divine law? To preserve inviolate what is properly our own; not to claim what belongs to others; to use what is given us, and not desire what is not given us; and when anything is taken away, to restore it readily, and to be thankful for the time you have been permitted the use of it; and not cry after it, like a child for its nurse and its mamma. For what does it signify what gets the better of you, or on what you depend? 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. Another comes lamenting that he must no longer drink the water of Dirce.¹⁰ Why, is not the Marcian water as good? But I was used to that. And in time you will be used to the other. And when you are attached to this too, you may weep again, and set yourself, in imitation of Euripides, to celebrate, in verse

The baths of Nero, and the Marcian water.

Hence see the origin of Tragedy, when trifling accidents befall foolish men. Ah, when shall I see Athens and the citadel again? Foolish man, are not you contented with what you see every day? Can you see anything 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? What, then, have you been doing in the school? What did you hear? What did you learn? Why have you written yourself down a philosopher, instead of writing the real fact? have prepared some abstracts, and read over Chrysippus; but I have not so much as approached the door of philosophy. For what pretensions have I in common with Socrates, who died and who lived in such a manner; or with Diogenes? Do you observe either of these crying, or out of humor, that he is not to see such a man, or such a woman; nor to live any longer at Athens nor at Corinth ; but at Susa , for instance, or Ecbatana ? For does he stay and repine, who may at any time, if he will, quit the entertainment, and play no longer? Why does he not stay, as children do, so long as he is amused? Such a one, no doubt, will bear perpetual banishment and a sentence of death wonderfully well! Why will not you be weaned, as children are; and take more solid food? Will you never cease to cry after your mammas and nurses, whom the old women about you have taught you to bewail? But if I go away, I shall trouble them also. You trouble them! No; it will not be you; but that which troubles you too,—a mere impression. What have you to do then? Rid yourself of that impression; and if they are wise, they will do the same for theirs; or if not, they must lament for themselves.

Boldly make a desperate push, man, as the saying is, for prosperity, for freedom, for magnanimity. Lift up your head at last, as being free from slavery. Dare to 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 whatever 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 explain 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 extirpating injustice and lawless force. But you are not Hercules, nor able to extirpate the evils of others; nor even Theseus, to extirpate the evils of Attica . Extirpate your own then. Expel, instead of Procrustes and Sciron,¹¹ grief, fear, desire, envy, malevolence, 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, and being consecrated to his commands. If you wish for anything else, you will, with sighs and groans, follow what is stronger than you; always seeking prosperity without, and never able to find it. For you seek it where it is not, and neglect to seek it where it is.

How to apply general principles to particular cases.

What is the first business of one who studies philosophy? To part with self-conceit. For it is impossible for any one to begin to learn what he thinks that he already knows. We all go to the philosophers, talking at random upon negative and positive duties; good and evil; fair and base. We praise, censure, accuse; we judge and dispute about fair and base enterprises. And yet for what do we go to the philosophers? To learn what we suppose ourselves not to know. And what is this? Propositions. We are desirous to hear what the philosophers say, for its elegance and acuteness; and some with a view only to gain. Now it is ridiculous to suppose that a person will learn anything but what he desires to learn; or make an improvement, in what he does not learn. But most are deceived, in the same manner as Theopompus, the orator, when he blames Plato for defining everything. For, he says, did none of us, before you, use the words good and just; or did we utter them as empty sounds, without understanding what each of them meant? Why, who tells you, Theopompus, that we had not natural ideas and general principles as to each of these? But it is not possible to apply principles in detail, without having minutely distinguished them, and examined what details appertain to each. You may make the same objection to the physicians. For who of us did not use the words wholesome and unwholesome, before Hippocrates was born; or did we utter them as empty sounds? For we have some general conception of what is wholesome too, but we cannot apply it. Hence one says, let the patient abstain from meat; another, give it to him. One says, let him be bled; another, cup him. And what is the reason, but not being able to adapt the general conception of wholesomeness to particular cases? Thus, too, in life; who of us does not talk of good or evil, advantageous and disadvantageous; for who of us has not a general conception of each of these? But is it then a distinct and perfect one? Show me this.

How shall I show it?

Apply it properly in detail. Plato, to go no further, puts definitions under the general head of useful; but you, under that of useless. Can both of you be right? How is it possible? Again, does not one man adapt the general conception of good to riches; another not to riches, but to pleasure or health? In general, unless we who use words employ them vaguely, or without proper care in discrimination, why do we differ? Why do we wrangle? Why do we censure each other? But what occasion have I to mention this mutual contradiction? If you yourself apply your principles properly, how comes it to pass that you do not prosper? Why do you meet with any hindrance? Let us for the present omit our second point concerning the pursuits and the duties relative to them; let us omit the third too, concerning assent. I waive all these for you. Let us insist only on the first,¹² which affords almost a sensible proof that you do not properly apply your principles. You desire what is possible in itself, and possible for you. Why then are you hindered? Why are you not in a prosperous way? You do not shrink from the inevitable. Why then do you incur anything undesirable? Why are you unfortunate? When you desire anything, why does it not happen? When you do not desire it, why happens it? For this is the greatest proof of ill success and misery: I desire something and it does not happen; and what is more wretched than I? From such impatience Medea came to murder her own children,—a lofty action in this point of view alone, that she had a proper impression of what it was to fail of one’s aim. Thus I shall punish him who has injured and dishonored me; and what is so wicked a wretch good for? But how is this to be effected? I will murder the children; but that will be punishing myself. And what care I? This is the error of a powerful soul. For she knew not where the fulfilment of our desires is to be found; that it is not to be had from without, nor by altering the appointment of things. Do not demand the man for your husband, and then nothing which you desire will fail to happen. Do not desire to keep him to yourself. Do not desire to stay at Corinth , and, in a word, 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 will be disappointed, the other incurred. Fix them on health. power, honors, your country, friends, children,—in short, on anything 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 the gods, why do you boast of your education? 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 upon the essential point? And for the future, beginning from this foundation, proceed in order to the superstructure; that nothing may happen which you do not wish, and that everything 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, yield up all the rest; it suffices me, if once I become able to pass my life free from hindrance and grief, to stretch out my neck to all events as freely, and to look up to Heaven as the friend of God, fearing nothing 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 destined to be an ornament to philosophy. Yours are these possessions; yours these books; yours these discourses. Then, when he has thoroughly mastered this first class, let him come to me again and say, desire indeed to be free from passion and perturbation; but I desire too, as a pious, a philosophic, and a diligent man, to know what is my duty to God, to my parents, to my relations, to my country, and to strangers. Come into the second class too; for this likewise is yours. But I have now sufficiently studied the second class too; and I would willingly be secure and unshaken by error and delusion, not only when awake, but even when asleep; when warmed with wine; when diseased with the spleen. You are becoming as a god, man; your aims are sublime!

Nay; but I, for my part, desire to understand what Chrysippus says, in his logical treatise of the Pseudomenos.¹³ Go hang yourself, pitiful man, with only such an aim as this! What good will it do you? You will read the whole, lamenting all the while; and say to others, trembling, Do as I do. Shall I read to you, my friend, and you to me? You write amazingly well; and you very finely imitate the style of Plato; and you, of Xenophon; and you, of Antisthenes. And thus, having related your dreams to each other, you return again to the same state. Your desires and aversions, your pursuits, your intentions, your resolutions, your wishes, and endeavors are just what they were. You do not so much as seek for one to advise you, but are offended when you hear such things as these, and cry, An ill-natured old man! He never wept over me, when I was setting out, nor said, To what a danger are you going to be exposed? If you come off safe, child, I will illuminate my house. This would have been the part of a man of feeling. Truly it will be a mighty happiness if you do come off safe; it will be worth while to make an illumination. For you ought to be immortal and exempt from sickness, to be sure.

Throwing away, then, I say, this self-conceit, by which we fancy we have gained some knowledge of what is useful, we should come to philosophic reasoning as we do to mathematics and music; otherwise we shall be far from making any improvement, even if we have read over all the compends and commentaries, not only of Chrysippus, but of Antipater, and Archedemus too.

How to deal with the semblances of things.

Every habit and faculty is preserved and increased by correspondent actions; as the habit of walking, by walking; of running, by running. If you would be a reader, read; if a writer, write. But if you do not read for a month together, but do 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 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 operations of the soul. Whenever you are angry, be assured that it is not only a present evil, but that you have increased a habit, and added fuel to a fire. When you are overcome by the 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 it is impossible but that habits and faculties must either be first produced, or strengthened and increased, by corresponding actions. Hence the philosophers derive the growth of all maladies. When you once desire money, for example, if reason be applied to produce a sense of the evil, the desire ceases, and the governing faculty of the mind regains its authority; whereas, if you apply no remedy, it returns no more to its former state, but being again similarly excited, it kindles at the desire more quickly than before; and by frequent repetitions at last becomes callous, and by this malady is the love of money fixed. 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 perfectly 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, whenever 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 nothing to help its increase. Be quiet at first and reckon the days in which you have not been angry. I used to be angry every day; now every other day; then every third and fourth day; and if you miss it so long as thirty days, offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to God. For habit is first weakened and then entirely destroyed. I was not vexed to-day, nor the next day, nor for three or four months after; but restrained myself under provocation. Be assured that you are in an excellent way. To-day, when I saw a handsome person, I did not say to myself, Oh. that I could possess her! and how happy is her husband (for he who says this, says too, how happy is her gallant), nor did I go on to fancy her in my arms. On this I stroke my head and say, Well done, Epictetus; thou hast solved a hard problem, harder than the chief syllogism. But if the lady herself should happen to be willing and give me intimations of it, and send for me and press my hand and place herself next to me, and I should then forbear and get the victory,—that would be a triumph beyond all the forms of logic. This is the proper subject for exultation, and not one’s power in handling the syllogism.

How then is this to be effected? Be willing to approve yourself to yourself. Be willing to appear beautiful in the sight of God; be desirous to converse in purity with your own pure mind, and with God; and then, if any such semblance bewilders you, Plato directs you: Have recourse to expiations; go a suppliant to the temples of the averting deities. It is sufficient, however, if you propose to yourself the example of wise and good men, whether alive or dead, and compare your conduct with theirs. Go to Socrates, and see him placed beside his beloved, yet not seduced by youth and beauty. Consider what a victory he was conscious of obtaining; what an Olympic triumph! How near does he rank to Hercules!¹⁴ So that, by Heaven! one might justly salute him, Hail! wondrous victor!¹⁵ instead of those sorry boxers and wrestlers, and the gladiators who resemble them.

By placing such an example before you, you will conquer any alluring semblance, and not be drawn away by it. But in the first place, be not hurried away by excitement; but say, Semblance, wait for me a little. Let me see what you are, and what you represent. Let me try you. Then, afterwards, do not suffer it to go on drawing gay pictures of what will follow; if you do, it will lead you wherever it pleases. But rather oppose to it some good and noble semblance, and banish this base one. If you are habituated to this kind of exercise, you will see what shoulders, what nerves, what sinews, you will have. But now it is mere trifling talk, and nothing more. He is the true athlete who trains himself to deal with such semblances as these. Stay, wretch, do not be hurried away. The combat is great, the achievement divine,—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. For what storm is greater than that which arises from these perilous semblances, contending to overset our reason? Indeed what is the storm itself, but a semblance? For do but take away the fear of death, and let there be as many thunders and lightnings as you please, you will find that to the reason all is serenity and calm; but if you are once defeated, and say, 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 behavior, and thus verify the saying of Hesiod:—

With constant ills, the dilatory strive.

Works and Days, v. 383.—H.

Concerning those who embrace philosophy only in words.

The science of the ruling argument¹⁶ appears to have its rise from hence. Of the following propositions, any two imply a contradiction to the third. They are these: That everything past is necessarily true; that an impossibility is not the consequence of a possibility; and, that something is a possibility, which neither is nor will be true. Diodorus, perceiving this contradiction, combined the first two, to prove that nothing is possible, which neither is nor will be true. Some again hold the second and third,— that something is possible, which neither is nor will be true; and that an impossibility is not the consequence of a possibility; and consequently assert, that not everything past is necessarily true. This way Cleanthes and his followers took; whom Antipater copiously defends. Others, lastly, maintain the first and third,— that something is possible; which neither is nor will be true; and that everything past is necessarily true; but then, that an impossibility may be the consequence of a possibility. But all these three propositions cannot be at once maintained, because of their mutual contradiction.

If any one should ask me, then, which of them I maintain, I answer him, that really I cannot tell. But I have heard it related that Diodorus held one opinion about them; the followers of Panthaedes, I think, and Cleanthes, another; and Chrysippus a third.

What then is your opinion?

I express none. I was born to examine things as they appear to my own mind; to compare what is said by others, and thence to form some conviction of my own on any topic. Of these things I have merely technical knowledge. Who was the father of Hector? Priam. Who were his brothers? Paris and Deiphobus. Who was his mother? Hecuba. this I have heard related. From whom? Homer. But I believe Hellanicus, and other authors, have written on the same subject. And what better account have I of the ruling argument? But, if I were vain enough, I might, especially at some entertainment, astonish all the company by an enumeration of authors relating to it. Chrysippus has written wonderfully, in his first Book of Possibilities. Cleanthes and Archedemus have each written separately on this subject. Antipater too has written, not only in his Treatise of Possibilities, but especially in a discourse on the ruling argument. Have you not read the work? No. Read it then. And what good will it do him? He will be more trifling and impertinent than he is already. For what else have you gained by reading it? What conviction have you formed upon this subject? But you tell us of Helen, and Priam, and the isle of Calypso, something which never was, nor ever will be. And in these matters, indeed, it is of no great consequence if you retain the story, without forming any principle of your own. But we commit this error much more in dealing with moral questions, than upon such subjects as these.

Talk to me concerning good and evil. Hear:—

Winds blew from Ilium to Ciconian shores.

Homer, Odyssey, ix. 39. The expression became proverbial, signifying from bad to worse.—H.

Some things are good, some evil, and some indifferent. Now the good are the virtues, and whatever partakes of them; and the evil are vices, and what partakes of vice; the indifferent lie between these, as riches, health, life, death, pleasure, pain.

Whence do you know this?

[Suppose I say] Hellanicus says it, in his Egyptian History. For what does it signify, whether one quotes the history of Hellanicus, or the ethics of Diogenes, or Chrysippus, or Cleanthes? Have you then examined any of these things, and formed convictions of your own? How, for instance, would you conduct 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 partake 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 accusation, 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? Does 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 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?

Observe yourselves thus in your actions, and you will find of what sect you are. You will find that most of you are Epicureans; a few are Peripatetics, and those but loose ones. For by what action will you prove that you think virtue equal, and even superior, to all other things? Show me a Stoic, if you have one. Where? Or how should you? You can show, indeed, a thousand who repeat the Stoic reasonings. But do they repeat the Epicurean less well? Are they not just as perfect in the Peripatetic? Who then is a Stoic? As we call that a Phidian statue which is formed according to the art of Phidias, so show me some one person formed according to the principles which he professes. Show me one who is sick, and happy; in danger, and happy; dying, and happy; exiled, and happy; disgraced, and happy. Show him 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 suppose that you are to show the Zeus or Athena of Phidias, a work of ivory or gold? Let any of you show me a human soul desiring 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 jealous; in a word, desiring from a man to become a god; and, in this poor mortal body, aiming to have fellowship with Zeus. Show him to me. But you cannot. Why then do you impose upon yourselves, and play tricks with others? Why do you put on a dress not your own, and walk about in it, mere thieves and pilferers of names and things which do not belong to you? 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 being 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 nor, in short, anything 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 not you 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.

Concerning the Epicureans and Academics.

Things true and evident must, of necessity, be recognized even by those who would contradict them. And perhaps one of the strongest proofs that there is such a thing as evidence is the necessity which compels even those who contradict it to make use of it. If a person, for instance, should deny that anything is universally true, he will be obliged to assert the contrary, that nothing is universally true. Foolish man, not so. For what is this but an universal statement?¹⁷ Again, suppose any one should come and say, Know that there is nothing to be known; but all things are uncertain; or another, Believe me, for your good, that no man ought to be believed in anything; or a third, Learn from me that nothing is to be learned; I tell you this, and will teach the proof of it, if you please. Now what difference is there between such as these, and those who call themselves Academics,—who say to us, Be convinced that no one ever is convinced; believe us, that nobody believes anybody?

Thus also, when Epicurus would destroy the natural tie between mankind, he makes use of the very thing he is destroying. For what says he? Be not deceived; be not seduced and mistaken. There is no natural tie between reasonable beings. Believe me. Those who say otherwise mislead and impose upon you. Why are you concerned for us then? Let us be deceived. You will fare never the worse, if all the rest of us are persuaded that there is a natural tie between mankind, and that it is by all means to be preserved. Nay, it will be much safer and better. Why do you give yourself any trouble about us, sir? Why do you break your rest for us? Why do you light your lamp? Why do you rise early? Why do you compose so many volumes? Is it that none of us should be deceived concerning the gods, as if they took any care of men; or that we may not suppose the essence of good consists in anything but in pleasure? For if these things be so, lie down and sleep, and lead the life of which you judge yourself worthy,—that of a mere worm. Eat, drink, debauch, snore. What is it to you, whether others think rightly or wrongly about these things? For what have you to do with us? You take care of sheep, because they afford their milk, their wool, and at last their flesh. And would it not be a desirable thing that men might be so lulled and enchanted by the Stoics as to give themselves up to be milked and fleeced by you, and such as you? Should not these doctrines be taught to your brother Epicureans only, and concealed from the rest of the world; who should by all means, above all things, be persuaded that we have a natural tie with each other, and that self-command is a good thing, in order that all may be kept safe for you? Or is this tie to be preserved towards some and not towards others? Towards whom, then, is it to be preserved,—towards such as mutually preserve, or such as violate it? And who violate it more than you, who teach such doctrines?

What was it, then, that waked Epicurus from his sleep, and compelled him to write what he did; what else, but that which is of all influences the most powerful among mankind, Nature; which draws every one, however unwilling and reluctant, to its own purposes. For since, she says, you think that there is no tie between mankind, write out this doctrine, and leave it for the use of others; and break your sleep upon that account; and by your own practice confute your own principles. Do we say that Orestes was roused from sleep because driven by the furies; and was not Epicurus waked by sterner furies and avengers, which would not suffer him to rest, but compelled him to utter his own ills, as wine and madness do the priests of Cybele? So strong and unconquerable a thing is human nature! For how can a vine have the properties not of a vine, but of an olivetree; or an olive-tree not those of an olive-tree, but of a vine? It is impossible. It is inconceivable. Neither, therefore, is it possible for a human creature entirely to lose human affections. But even those who have undergone a mutilation cannot have their inclinations also mutilated; and so Epicurus, when he had mutilated all the offices of a man, of a master of a family, of a citizen, and of a friend, did not mutilate the inclinations of humanity; for this he could not do, any more than the idle Academics can throw away or blind their own senses, though this be the point they chiefly labor. What a misfortune is it, when any one, after having received from Nature standards and rules for the knowledge of truth, does not strive to add to these, and make up their deficiencies; but, on the contrary, endeavors to take away and destroy whatever truth may be known even by them.

What say you, philosopher? What do you think of piety and sanctity? If you please, I will prove that they are good. Pray do prove it; that our citizens may be converted, and honor the Deity, and may no longer neglect what is of the highest importance. Do you accept these demonstrations, then? I have, and I thank you. Since you are so well pleased with this, then, learn these contrary propositions: that there are no gods, or, if there are, that they take no care of mankind, neither have we any concern with them; that this piety and sanctity, so much talked of by many, are only an imposition of boasting and sophistical men, or perhaps of legislators, for a terror and restraint to injustice. Well done, philosopher. Our citizens are much the better for you. You have already brought back all the youth to a contempt of the Deity. What! does not this please you, then? Learn next, that justice is nothing; that shame is folly; that the paternal relation is nothing; the filial, nothing. Well said, philosopher; persist, convince the youth; that we may have many more to think and talk like you. By such doctrines as these, no doubt, have our well-governed states flourished! Upon these was Sparta founded! Lycurgus, by his laws and method of education, introduced such persuasions as these: that it is not base to be slaves, rather than honorable; nor honorable to be free, rather than base! They who died at Thermopylae , died from such principles as these! And from what other doctrines did the Athenians leave their city?¹⁸

And yet they who talk thus marry, and produce children, and engage in public affairs, and get themselves made priests and prophets. Of whom? Of gods that have no existence. And they consult the Pythian priestess, only to hear falsehoods, and interpret the oracles to others. Oh, monstrous impudence and imposture!

What are you doing, man? ¹⁹ You contradict yourself every day; and you will not give up these paltry cavils. When you eat, where do you put your hand,—to your mouth, or to your eye? When you bathe, where do you go? Do you ever call a kettle a dish, or a spoon a spit? If I were a servant to one of these gentlemen, were it at the hazard of being flayed every day, I would plague him. Throw some oil into the bath, boy. I would take pickle, and pour upon his head. What is this? Really, sir, I was impressed by a certain semblance so like oil as not to be distinguished from it. Give me the soup. I would carry him a dish full of vinegar. Did I not ask for the soup? Yes, sir; this is the soup. Is not this vinegar? Why so, more than soup? Take it and smell it, take it and taste it. How do you know, then, but our senses deceive us? If I had three or four fellow-servants to join with me, I would make him either choke with passion and burst, or change his opinions. But now they insult us by making use of the gifts of nature, while in words they destroy them. Those must be grateful and modest men, at least, who, while eating their daily bread, dare to say, We do not know whether there be any such beings as Demeter, or Core, or Pluto. Not to mention that while they possess the blessings of night and day, of the annual seasons, of the stars, the earth, and the sea, they are not the last affected by any of these things; but only study to give out some idle problem, and when they have thus relieved themselves, go and bathe; but take not the least care what they say, nor on what subjects, nor to whom, nor what may be the consequence of their talk,—whether any well-disposed young man, on hearing such doctrines, may not be affected by them, and so affected as entirely to lose the seeds of his good disposition; whether they may not furnish an adulterer with occasions of growing shameless in his guilt; whether a public plunderer may not find excuses from these doctrines; whether he, who neglects his parents, may not gain an additional confidence from them.

What things, then, in your opinion, are good and evil, fair and base,—such things, or such things? But why should one argue any more with such as these, or interchange opinions, or endeavor to convince them? By Zeus! one might sooner hope to convince the most unnatural debauchees, than those who are thus deaf and blind to their own ills.

Of inconsistency.

There are some things which men confess with ease, and others with difficulty. No one, for instance, will confess himself a fool or a blockhead; but, on the contrary, you will hear every one say, wish my fortune were in proportion to my abilities. But they easily confess themselves fearful, and say, am somewhat timorous, I confess; but in other respects you will not find me a fool. No one will easily confess himself intemperate in his desires, upon no account dishonest, nor indeed very envious or meddling; but many confess themselves to have the weakness of being compassionate. What is the reason of all this? The principal reason is an inconsistency and confusion in what relates to good and evil. But different people have different motives, and in general, whatever they imagine to be base, they do not absolutely confess. Fear and compassion they imagine to belong to a well-meaning disposition; but stupidity, to a slave. Offences against society they do not own; but in most faults they are brought to a confession chiefly from imagining that there is something involuntary in them, as in fear and compassion. And though a person should in some measure confess himself intemperate in his desires, he accuses his passion, and expects forgiveness, as for an involuntary fault. But dishonesty is not imagined to be, by any means, involuntary. In jealousy too there is something they suppose involuntary and this likewise, in some degree, they confess.

Conversing therefore with such men, thus confused, thus ignorant what they say, and what are or are not their ills, whence they have them, and how they may be delivered from them, it is worth while, I think, to ask one’s self continually, Am I too one of these? What do I imagine myself to be? How do I conduct myself,—as a prudent, as a temperate man? Do I, too, ever talk at this rate,—that I am sufficiently instructed for what may happen? Have I that persuasion that I know nothing which becomes one who knows nothing? Do I go to a master as to an oracle, prepared to obey; or do I also, like a mere driveller, enter the school only to learn and understand books which I did not understand before, or perhaps to explain them to others?

You have been fighting at home with your manservant; 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 disputations 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 will come back with universal knowledge. I wish I could learn everything before my return; but this requires much labor, and nobody sends me anything. The baths are very bad at Nicopolis ; and things go very ill both at home and here.

After all this, it is said, nobody is the better for the philosophic school. Why, who comes to the school? I mean, who comes to be reformed; who, to submit his principles to correction; who, with a sense of his wants? Why do you wonder, then, that you bring back from the school the very thing you carried there? For you do not come to lay aside, or correct, or change, your principles. How should you? Far from it. Rather consider this, therefore, whether you have not what you have come for. You have come to talk about theorems. Well; and are you not more impertinently talkative than you were? Do not these paltry theorems furnish you with matter for ostentation? Do you not solve convertible and hypothetical syllogisms? Why, then, are you still displeased, if you have the very thing for which you came?

Very true; but if my child or my brother should die; or if I must die or be tortured myself, what good will these things do me? Why, did you come for this? Did you attend upon me for this? Was it upon any such account that you ever lighted your lamp, or sat up at night? Or did you, when you went into the walk, propose any delusive semblance to your own mind to be discussed, instead of a syllogism? Did any of you ever go through such a subject jointly? And after all, you say, theorems are useless. To whom? To such as apply them ill. For medicines for the eyes are not useless to those who apply them when and as they ought. Fomentations are not useless, dumb-bells are not useless: but they are useless to some, and on the contrary, useful to others. If you should ask me, now, are syllogisms useful? I should answer that they are useful; and, if you please, I will show you how. Will they be of service to me, then? Why, did you ask, man, whether they would be useful to you, or in general? If any one in a dysentery should ask me whether acids be useful, I should answer, they are. Are they useful for me, then? I say, no. First try to get the flux stopped, and the ulceration healed. Do you too first get your ulcers healed, your fluxes stopped. Quiet your mind, and bring it free from distraction to the school; and then you will know what force there is in reasoning.

Of friendship.

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

How so? I am not this wise person, yet I love my child.

I protest it surprises me that you should, in the first place, confess yourself unwise. For in what are you deficient? Have not you the use of your senses? Do you not distinguish the semblances of things? Do you not provide such food and clothing and habitation as are suitable to you? Why then do you confess that you want wisdom? In truth, because you are often struck and disconcerted by semblances, and their speciousness gets the better of you; and hence you sometimes suppose the very same things to be good, then evil, and lastly, neither; and, in a word, you grieve, you fear, you envy, you are disconcerted, you change. Is it from this that you confess yourself unwise? And are you not changeable too in love? Riches, pleasure, in short, the very same things, you sometimes esteem good, and at other times evil. And do you not esteem the same persons too alternately as good and bad, at one time treating them with kindness, at another with enmity; at one time commending, and at another censuring them?

Yes. This too is the case with me.

Well, then; can he who is deceived in another be his friend, think you?

No, surely.

Or does he who loves him with a changeable affection bear him genuine good-will?

Nor he, neither. Or he who now vilifies, then admires him?

Nor he.

Do you not often see little dogs caressing and playing with each other, so that you would say nothing could be more friendly? But to learn what this friendship is, throw a bit of meat between them, and you will see. Do you too throw a bit of an estate betwixt you and your son, and you will see that he will quickly wish you under ground, and you him; and then you, no doubt, on the other hand will exclaim, What a son have I brought up! He would bury me alive! Throw in a pretty girl, and the old fellow and the young one will both fall in love with her; or let fame or danger intervene, the words of the father of Admetus will be yours:—

You love to see the light. Doth not your father?

You fain would still behold it. Would not he?

Euripides, Alcestis, v. [691] 701. The second line, as quoted by Epictetus, is not found in the received editions. Pheres, the father of Admetus, is defending himself for not consenting to die in place of his son.—H.

Do you suppose that he did not love his own child when it was little; that he was not in agonies when it had a fever, and often wished to undergo that fever in its stead? But, after all, when the trial comes home, you see what expressions he uses. Were not Eteocles and Polynices born of the same mother and of the same father? Were they not brought up, and did they not live and eat and sleep, together? Did not they kiss and fondle each other? So that any one, who saw them, would have laughed at all the paradoxes which philosophers utter about love. And yet when a kingdom, like a bit of meat, was thrown betwixt them, see what they say,—

Polynices

Where wilt thou stand before the towers?

Eteocles

Why askest thou this of me?

Pol.

I will oppose myself to thee, to slay thee.

Et.

Me too the desire of this seizes.

Euripides, Phoenissae 630-631.

Such are the prayers they offer. Be not therefore deceived. No living being is held by anything so strongly as by its own needs. Whatever therefore appears a hindrance to these, be it brother or father or child or mistress or friend, is hated, abhorred, execrated; for by nature it loves nothing like its own needs. This motive is father and brother and family and country and God. Whenever, therefore, the gods seem to hinder this, we vilify even them, and throw down their statues, and burn their temples; as Alexander ordered the temple of Esculapius to be burnt, because he had lost the man he loved.

When, therefore, 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 anything else than friends, country, family, and justice, then these all give way, borne down by the weight of self-interest. For wherever I 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 externals, these. If, therefore, I rest my personality 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 patient, the abstinent, the beneficent character; to keep the relations of life inviolate. But if I place my personality in one thing, and virtue in another, the doctrine of Epicurus will stand its ground, that virtue is nothing, or mere opinion.

From this ignorance it was that the Athenians and Lacedemonians quarrelled with each other, and the Thebans with both; the Persian king with Greece , and the Macedonians with both; and now the Romans with the Getes. And in still remoter times the Trojan war arose from the same cause. Alexander [Paris] was the guest of Menelaus; and whoever had seen the mutual proofs of good-will that passed between them would never have believed that they were not friends. But a tempting bait, a pretty woman, was thrown in between them; and thence came war. At present, therefore, when you see that dear brothers have, in appearance, but one soul do not immediately pronounce upon their love; not though they should swear it, and affirm it was impossible to live asunder. For the governing faculty of a bad man is faithless, unsettled, undiscriminating, successively vanquished by different semblances. But inquire, not as others do, whether they were born of the same parents, and brought up together, and under the same preceptor; but this thing only, in what they place their interest,—in externals or in their own wills. If in externals, you can no more pronounce them friends, than you can call them faithful, or constant, or brave, or free; nay, nor even truly men, if you are wise. For it is no principle of humanity that makes them bite and vilify each other, and take possession of public assemblies, as wild beasts do of solitudes and mountains; and convert courts of justice into dens of robbers; that prompts them to be intemperate, adulterers, seducers; or leads them into other offences that men commit against each other,—all from that one single error, by which they risk themselves and their own concerns on things uncontrollable by will.

But if you hear that these men in reality suppose good to be placed only in the will, and in a right use of things as they appear, no longer take the trouble of inquiring if they are father and son, or old companions and acquaintances; but boldly pronounce that they are friends, and also that they are faithful and just. For where else can friendship be met, but joined with fidelity and modesty, and the intercommunication of virtue alone?

Well; but such a one paid me the utmost regard for so long a time, and did he not love me?

How can you tell, foolish man, if that regard be any other than he pays to his shoes, or his horse, when he cleans them? And how do you know but that when you cease to be a necessary utensil, he may throw you away, like a broken stool?

Well; but it is my wife, and we have lived together many years.

And how many did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus, and was the mother of children not a few? But a bauble came between them. What was this bauble? A false conviction concerning certain things. This turned her into a savage animal; this cut asunder all love, and suffered neither the wife nor the mother to continue such.²⁰

Whoever, therefore, 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 reproaches and contests, from vacillation and self-torment. Then, with respect to others, to every like-minded person he will be without disguise; to such as are unlike he will be patient, mild, gentle, and ready to forgive them, as failing in points of the greatest importance; but severe to none, being fully convinced 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.

Of eloquence.

A book will always be read with more pleasure and ease, if it be written in fair characters; and so every one will the more easily attend to discourses likewise, if ornamented with proper and beautiful expressions. It ought not then to be said, that there is no such thing as the faculty of eloquence; for this would be at once the part of an impious and timid person,—impious, because he dishonors the gifts of God; just as if he should deny any use in the faculties of sight, hearing, and speech itself. Has God then given you eyes in vain? Is it in vain that he has infused into them such a strong and active spirit as to be able to represent the forms of distant objects? What messenger is so quick and diligent? Is it in vain that he has made the intermediate air so yielding and elastic that sight penetrates through it? And is it in vain that he has made the light, without which all the rest would be useless? Man, be not ungrateful, nor, on the other hand, unmindful of your superior advantages; but for sight and hearing, and indeed for life itself, and the supports of it, as fruits and wine and oil, be thankful to God; but remember that he has given you another thing, superior to them all, which uses them, proves them, estimates the value of each. For what is it that pronounces upon the value of each of these faculties? Is it the faculty itself? Did you ever perceive the faculty of sight or hearing to say anything concerning itself; or wheat, or barley, or horses, or dogs? No. These things are appointed as instruments and servants, to obey that which is capable of using things as they appear. If you inquire the value of anything, of what do you inquire? What is the faculty that answers you? How then can any faculty be superior to this, which uses all the rest as instruments, and tries and pronounces concerning each of them? For which of them knows what itself is, and what is its own value? Which of them knows when it is to be used, and when not? Which is it that opens and shuts the eyes, and turns them away from improper objects? Is it the faculty of sight? No; but that of Will. Which is it that opens and shuts the ears? Which is it by which they are made curious and inquisitive, or, on the contrary, deaf, and unaffected by what is said? Is it the faculty of hearing? No; but that of Will. This, then, recognizing itself to exist amidst other faculties, all blind and deaf, and unable to discern anything but those offices in which they are appointed to minister and serve, itself alone sees clearly, and distinguishes the value of each of the rest. Will this, I say, inform us that anything is supreme but itself? What can the eye, when it is opened, do more than see? But whether we ought to look upon the wife of any one, and in what manner, what is it that decides us? The faculty of Will. Whether we ought to believe, or disbelieve what is said; or whether, if we do believe, we ought to be moved by it, or not, what is it that decides us? Is it not the faculty of Will? Again, the very faculty of eloquence, and that which ornaments discourse, if any such peculiar faculty there be, what does it more than merely ornament and arrange expressions, as curlers do the hair? But whether it be better to speak or to be silent, or better to speak in this or in that manner, whether this be decent or indecent, and the season and use of each, what is it that decides for us, but the faculty of Will? What, then; would you have it appear, and bear testimony against itself? What means this? If the case be thus, then that which serves may be superior to that to which it is subservient; the horse to the rider, the dog to the hunter, the instrument to the musician, or servants to the king. What is it that makes use of all the rest? The Will. What takes care of all? The Will. What destroys the whole man, at one time, by hunger; at another, by a rope or a precipice? The Will. Has man, then, anything stronger than this? And how is it possible that what is liable to restraint should be stronger than what is not? What has a natural power to restrain the faculty of sight? The Will and its workings. And it is the same with the faculties of hearing and of speech. And what has a natural power of restraining the Will? Nothing beyond itself, only its own perversion. Therefore in the Will alone is vice; in the Will alone is virtue.

Since, then, the Will is such a faculty, and placed in authority over all the rest, suppose it to come forth and say to us that the body is of all things the most excellent! If even the body itself pronounced itself to be the most excellent, it could not be borne. But now, what is it, Epicurus, that pronounces all this? What was it that composed volumes concerning the End, the Nature of things, the Rule; that assumed a philosophic beard; that as it was dying wrote that it was then spending its last and happiest day?²¹ Was this the body, or was it the faculty of Will? And can you, then, without madness, admit anything to be superior to this? Are you in reality so deaf and blind? What, then; does any one dishonor the other faculties? Heaven forbid! Does any one assert that there is no use or excellence in the faculty of sight? Heaven forbid! It would be stupid, impious, and ungrateful to God. But we render to each its due. There is some use in an ass, though not so much as in an ox; and in a dog, though not so much as in a servant; and in a servant, though not so much as in the citizens; and in the citizens, though not so much as in the magistrates. And though some are more excellent than others, those uses which the last afford are not to be despised. The faculty of eloquence has thus its value, though not equal to that of the Will. When therefore I talk thus, let not any one suppose that I would have you neglect eloquence, any more than your eyes, or ears, or hands, or feet, or clothes, or shoes. But if you ask me what is the most excellent of things, what shall I say? I cannot say eloquence, but a right Will; for it is this which makes use of that and of all the other faculties, whether great or small. If this be set right, a bad man becomes good; if it be wrong, a good man becomes wicked. By this we are unfortunate or fortunate; we disapprove or approve each other. In a word, it is this which, neglected, forms unhappiness; and, well cultivated, happiness.

But to take away the faculty of eloquence, and to say that it is in reality nothing, is not only ungrateful to those who gave it, but cowardly too. For such a person seems to me to be afraid that, if there be any such faculty, we may on occasion be compelled to respect it. Such are they too, who deny any difference between beauty and deformity. Was it possible, then, to be affected in the same manner by seeing Thersites, as by Achilles; by Helen, as by any other woman? These also are the foolish and clownish notions of those who are ignorant of the nature of things, and afraid that whoever perceives such a difference must presently be carried away and overcome. But the great point is to leave to each thing its own proper faculty, and then to see what the value of that faculty is; to learn what is the principal thing, and upon every occasion to follow that, and to make it the chief object of our attention; to consider other things as trifling in comparison with this, and yet, so far as we are able, not to neglect even these. We ought, for instance, to take care of our eyes; yet not as of the principal thing, but only on account of that which is principal; because that can no otherwise preserve its own nature, than by making a due estimate of the rest, and preferring some to others. What is the usual practice, then? That of a traveller who, returning into his own country, and meeting on the way with a good inn, being pleased with the inn, should remain there. Have you forgotten your intention, man? You were not travelling to this place, but only through it. But this is a fine place. And how many other fine inns are there, and how many pleasant fields, yet they are simply as a means of passage. What is the real business? To return to your country; to relieve the anxieties of your family; to perform the duties of a citizen; to marry, have children, and go through the public offices. For you did not travel in order to choose the finest places; but to return, to live in that where you were born, and of which you are appointed a citizen.

Such is the present case. Because, by speech and such instruction, we are to perfect our education and purify our own will and rectify that faculty which deals with things as they appear; and because, for the statement of theorems, a certain diction, and some variety and subtilty of discourse are needful, many, captivated by these very things,—one by diction, another by syllogisms, a third by convertible propositions, just as our traveller was by the good inn,—go no further, but sit down and waste their lives shamefully there, as if amongst the sirens. Your business, man, was to prepare yourself 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, unrestrained, uncompelled; conformed to the Divine Administration, obedient to that; finding fault with nothing, but able to say, from your whole soul, the verses which begin,

Conduct me, Zeus; and thou, O Destiny.

A Fragment of Cleanthes, quoted in full in Enchiridion, c. 52.—H.

While you have such a business before you, will you be so pleased with a pretty form of expression, or a few theorems, as to choose to stay and live with them, forgetful of your home, and say, They are fine things! Why, who says they are not fine things? But only as a means; as an inn. For what hinders one speaking like Demosthenes from being miserable? What hinders a logician equal to Chrysippus from being wretched, sorrowful, envious, vexed, unhappy? Nothing. You see, then, that these are merely unimportant inns, and what concerns you is quite another thing. When I talk thus to some, they suppose that I am setting aside all care about eloquence and about theorems; but I do not object to that, only the dwelling on these things incessantly, and placing our hopes there. If any one, by maintaining this, hurts his hearers, place me amongst those hurtful people; for I cannot, when I see one thing to be the principal and most excellent, call another so to please you.

Concerning a person whom he treated with disregard.

When a certain person said to him, I have often come to you with a desire of hearing you, and you have never given me any answer; but now, if possible, I entreat you to say something to me,—Do you think, replied Epictetus, that as in other things, so in speaking, there is an art by which he who understands it speaks skilfully, and he who does not unskilfully?

I do think so.

He, then, who by speaking both benefits himself, and is able to benefit others, must speak skilfully; but he who injures and is injured, must be unskilful in this art. For you may find some speakers injured, and others benefited. And are all hearers benefited by what they hear? Or will you find some benefited, and some hurt?

Both.

Then those who hear skilfully are benefited, and those who hear unskilfully, hurt.

Granted.

Is there any art of hearing, then, as well as of speaking?

It seems so.

If you please, consider it thus. To whom think you that the practice of music belongs?

To a musician.

To whom the proper formation of a statue?

To a sculptor.

And do you not imagine some art necessary even to view a statue skilfully?

I do.

If, therefore, to speak properly belongs to one who is skilful, do you not see that to hear profitably belongs likewise to one who is skilful? For the present, however, if you please, let us say no more of doing things perfectly and profitably, since we are both far enough from anything of that kind; but this seems to be universally confessed, that he who would hear philosophers needs some kind of exercise in hearing. Is it not so? Tell me, then, on what I shall speak to you. On what subject are you able to hear me?

On good and evil.

The good and evil of what,—of a horse?

No.

Of an ox?

No.

What, then; of a man?

Yes.

Do we know, then, what man is; what is his nature, what our idea of him, and how far our ears are open in this respect to him? Nay, do you understand what Nature is; or are you able in any degree to comprehend me when I come to say, But I must use demonstration to you? How should you? Do you comprehend what demonstration is, or how a thing is demonstrated, or by what methods; or what resembles a demonstration, and yet is not a demonstration? Do you know what true or false is; what is consequent upon anything, and what contradictory; suitable, or dissonant? But I must excite you to study philosophy. How shall I show you that contradiction among the generality of mankind, by which they differ concerning good and evil, profitable and unprofitable, when you know not what contradiction means? Show me, then, what I shall gain by discoursing with you? Excite an inclination in me, as a proper pasture excites an inclination to eating, in a sheep; for if you offer him a stone or a piece of bread, he will not be excited. Thus we too have certain natural inclinations to speaking, when the hearer appears to be somebody, when he gives us encouragement; but if he sits by like a stone or a tuft of grass, how can he excite any desire in a man? Does a vine say to an husbandman, Take care of me? No; but invites him to take care of it, by showing him that, if he does, it will reward him for his care. Who is there, whom bright and agreeable children do not attract to play, and creep, and prattle with them? But who was ever taken with an inclination to divert himself or bray with an ass; for be the creature ever so little, it is still a little ass.

Why then do you say nothing to me?

I have only this to say to you; that whoever is utterly ignorant what he is and wherefore he was born, and in what kind of a universe and in what society; what things are good and what evil, what fair and what base; who understands neither discourse nor demonstration, nor what is true nor what is false, nor is able to distinguish between them; such a one will neither exert his desires, nor aversions, nor pursuits conformably to Nature; he will neither aim, nor assent, nor deny, nor suspend his judgment conformably to Nature; but will wander up and down, entirely deaf and blind, supposing himself to be somebody, while he is nobody. Is there anything new in all this? Is not this ignorance the cause of all the errors that have happened, from the very origin of mankind? Why did Agamemnon and Achilles differ? Was it not for want of knowing what is advantageous, what disadvantageous? Does not one of them say it is advantageous to restore Chryseis to her father; the other, that it is not? Does not one say that he ought to take away the prize of the other; the other, that he ought not? Did they not by these means forget who they were, and for what purpose they had come there? Why, what did you come for, man,—to win mistresses, or to fight? To fight. With whom,—Trojans or Greeks? With the Trojans. Leaving Hector, then, do you draw your sword upon your own king? And do you, good sir, forgetting the duties of a king,—

Intrusted with a nation and its cares,

Homer, Iliad, 2.25. go to squabbling about a girl with the bravest of your allies, whom you ought by every method to conciliate and preserve? And will you be inferior to a subtle priest who pays his court anxiously to you fine gladiators? You see the effects produced by ignorance of what is truly advantageous.

But I am rich, as well as other people. What, richer than Agamemnon? But I am handsome too. What, handsomer than Achilles? But I have fine hair too. Had not Achilles finer and brighter? Yet he never combed it exquisitely, nor curled it. But I am strong too. Can you lift such a stone, then, as Hector or Ajax? But I am of a noble family too. Is your mother a goddess, or your father descended from Zeus? And what good did all this do Achilles, when he sat crying for a girl? But I am an orator. And was not he? Do you not see how he treated the most eloquent of the Greeks,—Odysseus and Phoenix,—how he struck them dumb? This is all I have to say to you; and even this against my inclination.

Why so? Because you have not excited me to it. For what can I see in you to excite me, as spirited horses their riders? Your person? That you disfigure. Your dress? That is effeminate. Your behavior. Your look? Absolutely nothing. When you would hear a philosopher, do not say to him, You tell me nothing; but only show yourself fit and worthy to hear; and you will find how you will move him to speak.

That logic is necessary.

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

What is the test of error.

Every error implies a contradiction; for since he who errs does not wish to err, but to be in the right, it is evident that he acts contrary to his wish. What does a thief desire to attain? His own interest. If, then, thieving be really against his interest, he acts contrary to his own desire. Now, every rational soul is naturally averse to self-contradiction; but so long as any one is ignorant that it is a contradiction, nothing restrains him from acting contradictorily; but whenever he discovers it, he must as necessarily renounce and avoid it, as any one must dissent from a falsehood whenever he perceives it to be a falsehood; only while this does not appear, he assents to it as to a truth.

He, then, is gifted in speech, and excels at once in exhortation and conviction, who can disclose to each man the contradiction by which he errs, and prove clearly to him that what he would he doth not, and what he would not, that he doth. For, if that be shown, he will depart from it of his own accord; but, till you have shown it, be not surprised that he remains where he is; for he proceeds on the semblance of acting rightly. Hence Socrates, relying on this faculty, used to say. It is not my custom to cite any other witness for my assertions; but I am always contented with my opponent. I call and summon him for my witness; and his single evidence serves instead of all others. For he knew that if a rational soul be moved by anything, the scale must turn whether it will or no. Show the governing faculty of Reason a contradiction, and it will renounce it; but till you have shown it, rather blame yourself than him who remains unconvinced.

Notes on the current edition

Discourses

1. It was the fashion of hunters to frighten deer by displaying fathers of various colours on ropes or strings and thus frightening them towards the nets. Virgil, Georg. iii. 372—

Puniceaeve agitant pavidos formidine pennae,

2. Euripides, fragments.

3. In the Phaedon, c. 24, or p. 78.

4. It was the opinion of some philosophers that the soul was a portion of the divinity sent down into human bodies.

5. This was a doctrine of Heraclitus and of Zeno. Zeno (Diog. Laert. vii. 137) speaks of God as

in certain periods or revolutions of time exhausting into himself the universal substance ( οὐσία) and again generating it out of himself.

Antoninus (xi. 1) speaks of the periodical renovation of all things. For man, whose existence is so short, the doctrine of all existing things perishing in the course of time and then being renewed, is of no practical value. The present is enough for most men. But for the few who are able to embrace in thought the past, the present and the future, the contemplation of the perishable nature, of all existing things may have a certain value by elevating their minds above the paltry things which others prize above their worth.

6. Sec. i. 9, note 7. Schweighaeuser says that he does not quite see what is the meaning of ought to be open; and he suggests that Epictetus intended to say we ought to consider that the door is open for all occasions; but the occasions, he says, ought to be when things are such that a man can in no way bear them or cannot honourably endure them, and such occasions the wise man considers to be the voice of God giving to him the sign to retire.

7. This is an allusion to one of the Roman modes of manumitting a slave before the praetor. Compare, Persius, Sat. V. 75—

—Heu steriles veri, qulbus una Quiritem

Vertigo facit;

and again

Verterit hunc dominus, momento turbinis exit

Marcus Dama.

The sum paid on manumission was a tax of five per cent., established In B. C. 356 (Livy, vii. 16), and paid by the slave. Epictetus here speaks of the tax being paid by the master; but in iii. 26, he speaks of it as paid by the enfranchised slave. See Dureau de la Malle, Economie Politique des Romains i. 290, ii 169.

8. These are the words of some pupil who is boasting of what he has written.

9. The word is περιόδια. I am not sure about the exact meaning of περιόδια: see the notes of Wolf and Schweig.

10. No other author speaks of Socrates having written any thing. It is therefore very difficult to explain this passage in which Arrian, who took down the words of Epictetus, represents him as saying that Socrates wrote so much. Socrates talked much, and Epictetus may have spoken of talking as if it were writing; for he must have known that Socrates was not a writer. See Schweig.’s note.

11. The word is ὑπὸ ἀταραξίας. Mrs. Carter thinks that the true reading is ὑπὸ ἀπραξίας, through idleness or having nothing to do; and she remarks that freedom from perturbations is the very thing that Epictetus had been recommending through the whole chapter and is the subject of the next chapter, and therefore cannot be well supposed to be the true reading in a place where it is mentioned with contempt. It is probable that Mrs. Carter is right. Upton thinks that Epictetus is alluding to the Sophists, and that we should understand him as speaking ironically: and this may also be right. Schweighaeuser attempts to explain the passage by taking free from perturbations in the ordinary simple sense; but I doubt if he has succeeded.

12. ἐμπερπερεύσῃ. Epictetus (iii. 2. 14) uses the adjective πέρπερος to signify a vain man. Antoninus (v. 5) uses the verb περπέρευεσθαι: and Paul (Corinthians i. c. 13, 4), where our version is,

charity (love) vaunteth not itself.

Cicero ( ad Attic. i. 14, 4 ) uses ἐνεπερπερευσάμην, to express a rhetorical display.

13.

The whole life of philosophers,

says Cicero (Tusc. i. 30), following Plato,

is a reflection upon death

14.

Some English readers, too happy to comprehend how chains, torture, exile and sudden executions, can be ranked among the common accidents of life, may be surprised to find Epictetus so frequently endeavouring to prepare his hearers for them. But it must be recollected that he addressed himself to persons who lived under the Roman emperors, from whose tyranny the very best of men were perpetually liable to such kind of dangers.

—Mrs. Carter. All men even now are exposed to accidents and misfortunes against which there is no security, and even the most fortunate of men must die at last. The lessons of Epictetus may be as useful now as they were in his time. See i. 30.

15. Epictetus refers to the rhetorical divisions of a speech.

16. Xenophon ( Mem. iv. c. 8, 4 ) has reported this saying of Socrates on the authority of Hermogenes. Compare the Apology of Xenophon near the beginning.

17. Schweighaeuser says that he can extract no sense out of this passage. I leave it as it is.

18. There is some difficulty here in the original. See Schweig.’s note.

19. The words may mean either what I have written in the text, or and so he lost his suit.

20.

The meaning is, You must not ask for advice when you are come into a difficulty, but every man ought to have such principles as to be ready on all occasions to act as he ought; just as he who knows how to write can write any name which is proposed to him.

—Wolf.

21.

The reader must know that these dissertations were spoken extempore, and that one thing after another would come into the thoughts of the speaker. So the reader will not be surprised that when the discourse is on the maintenance of firmness or freedom from perturbations, Epictetus should now speak of philosophical preparation, which is most efficient for the maintenance of firmness.

—Wolf. See also Schweig.’s note on section 21,

Suggest something me:

and ii. 24.

22. In the Encheiridion or Manual (c. 14) it is written,

Every man’s master is he who has the power to give to a man or take away that which he would have or not have: whoever then wishes to be free, let him neither seek any thing or avoid any thing which is in the power of others: if he does not act thus, he will be a slave.

23.

Mrs. Carter says

This is one of the many extravagant refinements of the philosophers; and might lead persons into very dangerous mistakes, if it was laid down as a maxim in ordinary life.

I think that Mrs. Carter has not seen the meaning of Epictetus. The philosopher will discover the man’s character by trying him, as the assayer tries the silver by a test.

Cicero (De legibus, i. 9) says that the face expresses the hidden character. Euripides (Medea, 518) says better, that no mark is impressed on the body by which we can distinguish the good man from the bad. Shakspere says

There’s no art

To find the mind’s destruction in the face.

Macbeth, act i. sc. 4.

24. It is not clear what is meant by women being common by nature In any rational sense. Zeno and his school said (Diogenes Laertius, vii.; Zeno, p. 195. London , 1664):

it is their opinion also that the women should be common among the wise, so that any man should use any woman, as Zeno says in his Polity, and Chrysippus in the book on Polity, and Diogenes the Cynic and Plato; and we shall love all the children equally like fathers, and the jealousy about adultery will be removed.

These wise men knew little about human nature, if they taught such doctrines.

25. Archedemus was a Stoic philosopher of Tarsus . We know little about him.

26. A man may be a philosopher or pretend to be; and at the same time he may be a beat.

27. The materials ( ὕλαι) on which man works are neither good nor bad, and so they are, as Epictetus names them, indifferent. But the use of things, or of material, is not indifferent. They may be used well or ill, conformably to nature or not.

28. Terence says (Adelphi, iv. 7)—

Si illud, quod est maxime opus, jactu non cadit,

Illud quod cecidit forte, id arte ut corrigas.

Dexterously is arte, τεχνικῶς in Epictetus.

—Upton.

29. The word is ἁρπαστόν, which was also used by the Romans. One threw the ball and the other caught it. Chrysippus used this simile of a ball in speaking of giving and receiving (Seneca, De Beneficiis, ii. 17). Martial has the word (Epig. iv. 19) ’sive harpasta manu pulverulenta rapis’; and elsewhere.

30. In Plato’s Apology c. 15, Socrates addresses Meletus; and he says, it would be equally absurd if a man should believe that there are foals of horses and asses, and should not believe that there are horses and asses. But Socrates says nothing of mules, for the word mules in sore? texts of the Apology is manifestly wrong

31. Compare Antoninus, ii. 16, iii. 11, vi. 44, xii. 36; and Seneca, de Otio Sap. c. 31; and Cicero, De Fin. iii. 19.

32. ἀπόλυτοι. Compare Antoninus, x. 24, viii. 34.

33. He tells some imaginary person, who hears him, that since he is come into the world, he must do his duty in it.

34. This discussion is with a young philosopher who, intending to return from Nicopolis to Rome , feared the tyranny of Domitian, who was particularly severe towards philosophers. See also the note on i. 24. 3. Schweig. Compare Plin. Epp. i. 12, and the expression of Corellius Rufus about the detestable villain, the emperor Domitian.

The title of Indifference means of the indifference of things. of the things which are neither good nor bad.

35. τὸ συνημμένον, p. 93.

36. Sec. ii. 5, 24.

37. Epictetus alludes to the verses from the Hypsipyle of Euripides. Compare Antoninus (vii. 40):

Life must be reaped like the ripe ears of corn: one man is born; another dies.

Cicero (Tuscul. Disp. iii. 25) has translated six verses from Euripides, and among them are these two:

tum vita omnibus

Metenda ut fruges; sic jubet necessitas.

38. The story is in Xenophon’s Cyropaedia (IV. near the beginning) where Cyrus says that he called Chrysantas by name. Epictetus, as Upton remarks, quotes from memory.

39. So Anaxagoras said that the road to the other world (ad inferos) is the same from all places. (Cicero, Tusc. Disp. i. 43). What follows is one of the examples of extravagant assertion in Epictetus. A tyrant may kill by a slow death as a fever does. I suppose that Epictetus would have some answer to that. Except to a Stoic the ways to death are not indifferent: some ways of dying are painful, and even he who can endure with fortitude, would prefer an easy death.

40. The text has ἐπὶ Καίσαρος; but ἐπὶ perhaps ought to be ὑπό or ἀπό .

41. See i. 25, note 4.

42. Diogenes Laertius reports in his life of Socrates that he wrote in prison a Paean, and he gives the first line which contains an address to Apollo and Artemis.

43. Divination was a great part of ancient religion, and, as Epictetus says, it led men to omit many duties. In a certain sense there was some meaning in it. If it is true that those who believe in God can see certain signs in the administration of the world by which they can judge what their behaviour ought to be, they can learn what their duties are. If these signs are misunderstood, or if they are not seen right, men may be governed by an abject superstition. So the external forms of any religion may become the means of corruption and of human debasement, and the true indications of God’s will may be neglected. Upton compares Lucan (ix. 572), who sometimes said a few good things.

44. A man who gives his opinion on grammar gives an opinion on a thing of which many know something. A man who gives his opinion on divination or on future events, gives an opinion on things of which we all know nothing. When then a man affects to instruct on things unknown, we may ask him to give his opinion on things which are known, and so we may learn what kind of man he is.

45. Gratilla was a lady of rank, who was banished from Rome and Italy by Domitian. Pliny, Epp. iii. 11. See the note in Schweig.’s ed. on ἐπιμήνια.

46. As knavish priests have often played on the fears and hopes of the superstitious.

47. Schweighaeuser reads τὸν ὀρνιθάριον. See his note.

48.

Κύριε ἐλέησον, Domine miserere. Notissima formula in Christiana ecclesia jam usque a primis temporibus usurpata

’. Upton.

49. Schweighaeuser observes that the title of this chapter would more correctly be ὁ Τεὸς ἐν ὑμῖν, God in man. There is no better chapter in the book.

50. Socrates (Xenophon, Mem. iv. 6, 8 ) concludes

that the useful is good to him to whom it is useful.

51. I do not remember that Epictetus has attempted any other description of the nature of God. He has done more wisely than some who have attempted to answer a question which cannot be answered. But see ii. 14, 11–13.

52. Compare Cicero, de Office. i. 27.

53.

Noble descent. See i. c. 9.

The doctrine that God is in man is an old doctrine. Euripides said. (Apud Theon. Soph. Progym.):—

Ὀ νοῦς γὰρ ἡμῖν ἐστιν ἐν ἑκάστῳ Θεός.

.The doctrine became a common place of the poets (Ovid, Fast. vi.),

Est deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo;

and Horace, Sat. ii. 6, 79,

Atque affigit humo divinae particulam aurae.

See i. 14, note 4.

54.

Mrs. Carter has a note here.

See 1 Cor. vi. 19, 2 Cor. vi. 16, 2 Tim. i. 14, 1 John iii. 24, iv. 12, 13. But though the simple expression of carrying God about with us may seem to have some nearly parallel to it in the New Testament, yet those represent the Almighty in a more venerable manner, as taking the hearts of good men for a temple to dwell in. But the other expressions here of feeding and exercising God, and the whole of the paragraph, and indeed of the Stoic system, show the real sense of even its more decent phrases to be vastly different from that of Scripture.

The passage in 1 Cor. vi. 19 is,

What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God and ye are not your own

? This follows v. 18, which is an exhortation to flee fornication. The passage in 2 Cor. vi. 16 is

And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them and walk in them,

etc. Mrs. Carter has not correctly stated the sense of these two passages.

It is certain that Epictetus knew nothing of the writers of the Epistles in the New Testament; but whence did these writers learn such forms of expression as we find in the passages cited by Mrs. Carter? I believe that they drew them from the Stoic philosophers who wrote before Epictetus and that they applied them to the new religion which they were teaching. The teaching of Paul and of Epictetus does not differ: the spirit of God is in man.

Swedenborg says,

In these two faculties (rationality and liberty) the Lord resides with every man, whether he be good or evil, they being the Lord’s mansions in the human race. But the mansion of the Lord is nearer with a man, in proportion as the man opens the superior degrees by these faculties; for by the opening thereof he comes into superior degrees of love and wisdom, and consequently nearer to the Lord. Hence it may appear that as these degrees are opened, so a man is in the Lord and the Lord in him.

Swedeuborg, Angelic Wisdom, 240. Again,

the faculty of thinking rationally, viewed in itself, is not man’s, but God’s in man.

I am not quite sure in what sense the administration of the Eucharist ought to be understood in the church of England service. Some English divines formerly understood, and perhaps some now understand, the ceremony as a commemoration of the blood of Christ shed for us and of his body which was broken; as we see in T. Burnet’s Posthumous work (de Fide et Officiis Christianorum, p. 80). It was a commemoration of the last supper of Jesus and the Apostles. But this does not appear to be the sense in which the ceremony is now understood by some priests and by some members of the church of England , whose notions approach near to the doctrine of the Catholic mass. Nor does it appear to be the sense of the prayer made before delivering the bread and wine to the Communicants, for the prayer is

Grant us, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear son Jesus Christ and to drink his blood that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body and our souls washed through his most precious blood and that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us.

This is a different thing from Epictetus’ notion of God being in man, and also different, as I understand it, from the notion contained in the two passages of Paul; for it is there said generally that the Holy Ghost is in man or God in man, not that God is in man by virtue of a particular ceremony. It should not be omitted that there is after the end of the Communion service an admonition that the sacramental bread and wine remain what they were,

and that the natural body and blood of our Saviour Christ are in heaven and not here; it being against the truth of Christ’s natural body to be at one time in more places than one.

It was affirmed by the Reformers and the best writers of the English church that the presence of Christ in the Eucharist is a spiritual presence, and in this opinion they followed Calvin and the Swiss divines: and yet in the Prayer book we have the language that I have quoted; and even Calvin, who only maintained a spiritual presence, said,

that the verity is nevertheless joined to the signs, and that in the sacrament we have true Communion in Christ’s body and blood

(Contemporary Review, p. 464, August 1874). What would Epictetus have thought of the subtleties of our days?

55. The Athena of Phidias was in the Parthenon on the Athenian Acropolis, a colossal chryselephantine statue, that is, a frame work of wood, covered with ivory and gold (Pausanias, i. 24). The figure of Victory stood on the hand of the goddess, as we frequently see in coins. See. i. 6, 23, and the note in Schweig.’s edition. Cicero, de Natura Deorum, iii. 34.

56. The great statue at Olympia was the work of Phidias (Pausanias, v. 11). It was a seated colossal chryselephantine statue, and held a Victory in the right Land.

57. An allusion to the combatants in the public exercises, who used to show their shoulders, muscles and sinews as a proof of their strength. See i. 4, ii. 18, iii. 22 (Mrs. Carter).

58. ἔκκλισιν. See Book iii. c. 2.

59.

The abuse of the faculties, which are proper to man, called rationality and liberty, is the origin of evil. By rationality is meant the faculty of understanding truths and thence falses, and goods and then evils; and by liberty is meant the faculty of thinking, willing and acting freely—and these faculties distinguish man from beasts.

Swedenborg, Angelic Wisdom, 264 and also 240. See Epictetus, ii. c. 8

60. This seems to be a proverb. If I am eaten, let me be eaten by the nobler animal.

61. A conjunctive or complex ( συμπεπλεγμένον) axiom or lemma. Gellius ( xvi. 8 ) gives an example:

P. Scipio, the son of Paulus, was both twice consul and triumphed, and exercised the censorship and was the colleague of L. Mummius in his censorship.

Gellius adds,

in every conjunctive if there is one falsehood, though the other parts are true, the whole is said to be false,

For the whole is proposed as true: therefore if one part is false, the whole is not true. The disjunctive ( διεζευγμένον) is of this kind: pleasure is either bad or good, or neither good nor bad.

62. We often say a man learns a particular thing: and there are men who profess to teach certain things, such as a language, or an art; and they mean by teaching that the taught shall learn; and learning means that they shall be able to do what they learn. He who teaches an art professes that the scholar shall be able to practise the art, the art of making shoes for example, or other useful things. There are men who profess to teach religion, and morality, and virtue generally. These men may tell us what they conceive to be religion, and morality, and virtue; and those who are said to be taught may know what their teachers have told them. But the learning of religion, and of morality and of virtue, mean that the learner will do the acts of religion and of morality and of virtue; which is a very different thing from knowing what the acts of religion, of morality, and of virtue are. The teacher’s teaching is in fact only made efficient by his example, by his doing that which he teaches

63.

He is not a Stoic philosopher, who can only explain in a subtle and proper manner the Stoic principles: for the same person can explain the principles of Epicurus, of course for the purpose of refuting them, and perhaps he can explain them better than Epicurus himself. Consequently he might be at the same time a Stoic and an Epicurean; which is absurd.

—Schweig. He means that the mere knowledge of Stoic opinions does not make a man a Stoic, or any other philosopher. A man must according to Stoic principles practise them in order to be a Stoic philosopher. So if we say that a man is a religious man, he must do the acts which his religion teaches; for it is by his acts only that we can know him to be a religious man. What he says and professes may be false; and no man knows except himself whether his words and professions are true. The uniformity, regularity, and consistency of his acts are evidence which cannot be mistaken.

64. It has been suggested that Epictetus confounded under the name of Jews those who were Jews and those who were Christians. We know that some Jews became Christians. But see Schweig.’s note 1 and note 7.

65. It is possible, as I have said, that by Jews Epictetus means Christians, for Christians and Jews are evidently confounded by some writers, as the first Christians were of the Jewish nation. In book iv. c. 7, Epictetus gives the name of Galilaeans to the Jews. The term Galilaeans points to the country of the great teacher. Paul says (Romans, ii. 28),

For he is not a Jew, which is one outwardly—but he is a Jew which is one inwardly,

etc. His remarks (ii. 17–29) on the man

who is called a Jew, and rests in the law and makes his boast of God

may be compared with what Epictetus says of a man who is called a philosopher, and does not practise that which he professes.

66. See ii. 24, 26; Iliad, vii. 264, etc.; Juvenal, xv. 65,

Nec hunc lapidem, quales et Turnus et Ajax

Vel quo Tydides percussit pondere coxam

Aeneae.

—Upton.

67. Cicero (de Fin. iv. 10); Seneca, Ep. 95.

68.

See i. 9. M. Antoninus, vi. 44:

But my nature is rational and social; and my city and country, so far as I am Antoninus, is Rome , but so far as I am a man, it is the world.

I have here translated προβάτων by domestic animals. I suppose that the bovine species, and sheep and goats are meant.

69. This may appear extravagant; but it is possible to explain it, and even to assent to it. If a man believes that all is wisely arranged in the course of human events, he would not even try to resist that which he knows it is appointed for him to suffer: he would submit and he would endure. If Epictetus means that the man would actively pro— mote the end or purpose which he foreknew, in order that his acts may be consistent with what he foreknows and with his duty, perhaps the philosopher’s saying is too hard to deal with; and as it rests on an impossible assumption of foreknowledge, we may be here wiser than the philosophers, if we say no more about it. Compare Seneca, de Provid. c. 5.

70. Antoninus, vi. 42:

We are all working together to one end, some with knowledge and design, and others without knowing what they do.

71. A lettuce is an example of the most trifling thing. A seat probably means a seat of superiority, a magistrate’s seat, a Roman sella curulis.

72. οὗτος ᾖ ἀβλαβής. See Schweig.’s note.

73. Socrates. We must by no means then do an act of injustice. Crito. Certainly not. Socrates. Nor yet when you are wronged must you do wrong in return, as most people think, since you must in no way do an unjust act. Plato, Crito, c. 10.

74. See the beginning of ii. 16.

75. The same remark will apply to most dissertations spoken or written on moral subjects: they are exercises of skill for him who delivers or writes them, or matter for criticism and perhaps a way of spending an idle hour for him who listens; and that is all. Epictetus blames our indolence and indifference as to acts, and the trifling of the schools of philosophy in disputation.

76. See i. e. 2.

77. See Cicero’s use of opinatio (Tusc. iv. 11).

78. See Schweig.’s note.

79. Doing nothing without the rule. This is a Greek proverb, used also by Persius, Sat. v. 119; compare Cicero, de Fin. iii. 17; and Antoninus, ii 16.

80. That is, so far shall I consider you from being able to judge rightly of things without a balance that I shall understand that not even with the aid of a balance can you do it, that you cannot even use a balance, and consequently that you are not worth a single word from me. Schweig.

81. This is a just conclusion. We must fix the canons or rules by which things are tried; and then the rules may be applied by the wise and good to all cases.

82. This is what is said in the Gorgias of Plato, p. 472, 474 .

83. The word is ἔννοιαι, which Cicero explains to be the name as προλήψεις. Acad. Pr. ii. 10.

84. Socrates’ notion of envy is stated by Xenophon ( Mem. iii. 9, 8 ), to be this: it is the pain or vexation which men have at the prosperity of their friends, and that such are the only envious persons. Bishop Butler gives a better definition; at least a more complete description of the thing.

Emulation is merely the desire and hope of equality with or superiority over others, with whom we may compare ourselves. There does not appear to be any other grief in the natural passion, but only that want which is implied in desire. However this may be so strong as to be the occasion of great grief. To desire the attainment of this equality or superiority, by the particular means of others being brought down to our level, or below it, is, I think, the distinct notion of envy. From whence it is easy to see, that the real end which the natural passion, emulation, and which the unlawful one, envy, aims at is the same; namely, that equality or superiority: and consequently that to do mischief is not the end of envy, but merely the means it makes use of to attain its end.

—Sermons upon Human Nature, I.

85. I have omitted the words ἀπὸ τοῦ ἐναντίου ἐκίνησε τὸν πλησιον I see no sense in them; and the text is plain without them.

86. I am not sure that I have understood rightly it ἐξ ὧν δὲ αὐτός at the beginning of this sentence.

87. The Symposium or Banquet of Xenophon is extant. Compare Epietetus, iii. 16, 5, and iv. o. 5, the beginning.

88. The aliptic art is the art of anointing and rubbing, one of the best means of maintaining a body in health. The iatric or healing art is the art of restoring to health a diseased body. The aliptic art is also equivalent to the gymnastic art, or the art of preparing for gymnastic exercises, which are also a means of preserving the body’s health, when the exercises are good and moderate.

89. Epictetus in speaking of himself and of his experience at Rome .

90. See i. 29, note 20.

91. In Diogenes Laertius (Zeno, vii.) there is a letter from Antigonus to Zeno and Zeno’s answer. Simplicius (note on the Encheiridion. c. 51) supposes this Antigonus to be the King of Syria ; but Upton remarks that it is Antigonus Gonatas, king of Macedonia .

92. See i. c. 7.

93. The original is but that person ( ἐκεῖνος) has power to kill me. That person must be the person already mentioned, and Mrs. Carter has done right in adding this explanation.

94. The Thirty tyrants of Athens , as they were named (Xenophon, Hellenica, ii .). The talk of Socrates with Critias and Charicles two of the Thirty is reported in Xenophon’s Memorabilia ( i. 2, 33 ). The defence of Socrates before those who tried him and his conversation in prison are reported in Plato’s Apology, and in the Phaedon and Crito. Diogenes was captured by some pirates and sold (iv. 1, 115).

95. There is some corruption here.

96. Encheiridion, c. 8:

Do not seek (wish) that things which take place shall take place as you desire, but desire that things which take place shall take place as they do, and you will live a tranquil life.

97. Compare iii. 2. 4, iv. 8. 20. Antoninus (viii. 27) writes:

There are three relations [between thee and other things]: the one to the body which surrounds thee; the second to the divine cause from which all things come to all; and the third to those who live with thee.

This is precise, true and practical. Those who object to the divine cause, may write in place of it the nature and constitution of things. for there is a constitution of things, which the philosopher attempts to. discover; and for most practical purposes, it is immaterial whether we say that it is of divine origin or has some other origin, or no origin can be discovered. The fact remains that a constitution of things exists; or, if that expression be not accepted, we may say that we conceive that it exists and we cannot help thinking so.

98.

See i. 14. 13, ii. 8. 14. Socrates ( Xen. Mem. i. 1. 19 ) said the same. That man should make himself like the Gods is said also by Antoninus, x. 8.—See Plato, De Legg. i. 4. (Upton.)

When God is said to provide for all things, this is what the Greeks called πρόνοια, providence. (Epictetus, i. 16, iii. 17.) In the second of these passages there is a short answer to some objections made to Providence.

Epictetus could only know or believe what God is by the observation of phaenomena; and he could only know what he supposed to be God’s providence by observing his administration of the world and all that happens in it. Among other works of God is man, who possesses certain intellectual powers which enable him to form a judgment of God’s works, and a judgment of man himself. Man has or is supposed to have certain moral sentiments, or a capacity of acquiring them in some way. On the supposition that all man’s powers are the gift of God, man’s power of judging what happens in the world under God’s providence is the gift of God: and if he should not be satisfied with God’s administration, we have the conclusion that man, whose powers are from God, condemns that administration which is also from God. Thus God and man, who is God’s work, are in opposition to one another.

If a man rejects the belief in a deity and in a providence, because of the contradictions and difficulties involved in this belief or supposed to be involved in it, and if he finds the contradictions and difficulties such as he cannot reconcile with his moral sentiments and judgments, he will be consistent in rejecting the notion of a deity and of providence. But he must also consistently admit that his moral sentiments and judgments are his own, and that he cannot say how he acquired them, or how he has any of the corporeal or intellectual powers which he is daily using. By the hypothesis they are not from God. All then that a man can say is that he has such powers.

99. See ii. 10, i. 17. 12, ii. 11. 4, etc. M. Antoninus, x. 8.

100. The original is to add the colophon, which is a proverbial expresssion and signifies to give the last touch to a thing.

101. See the fragments of Menander quoted by Upton.

102.

Sunt In Fortunae qui casibus omnnia ponunt,

Et mundum credunt nullo rectore moveri.

Juvenal, xiii. 86 .

103. From the fact that man has some intelligence Voltaire concludes that we must admit that there is a greater intelligence. (Letter to Mde. Necker. Vol. 67, ed. Kehl. p. 278.)

104. The word is ἀποκαρτερεῖν, which Cicero (Tusc. i. 34) renders

perinediam vita discedere.

The words I have resolved are in Epictetus, κέκρικα. Pliny (Epp. i. 12) says that Corellius Rufus, when he determined to end his great sufferings by starvation made the same answer, κέκρικα, to the physician who offered him food.

105. The great city is the world.

106. The meaning is that you cannot lead a fool from his purpose either by words or force. A wise fool must mean a fool who thinks himself wise; and such we sometimes see.

Though thou shouldst bray a fool in the mortar among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness depart from him.

Proverbs, xxvii. 22.

107. Ellebore was a medicine used in madness. Horace says, Sat. ii. 3. 82—

Danda est ellebori multo pars maxima avaris.

108.

Epictetus seems in this discussion to be referring to some professor, who had declared that he would not take money from his hearers, and then, indirectly at least had blamed our philosopher for receiving some fee from his hearers.

Schweig.

109. See ii. 10. 25.

110. To answer to things means to act in a way suitable to circum— stances, to be a match for them. So Horace says (Sat. ii. 7. 85)—

Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores

Fortis.

111. Perhaps this was a common puzzle. The man answers right; he cannot say.

112. That is which follows praise or blame. He seems to mean making the proper use of praise or of blame.

113. By the words sit down Epictetus indicates the man’s baseness and indolence, who wishes God to do for him that which he can do himself and ought to do. Schweig.

114. So Schweighaeuser explains this difficult passage. Perhaps he is right. This part of the chapter is obscure.

115.

It is observable, that this most practical of all the philosophers owns his endeavours met with little or no success among his scholars. The Apostles speak a very different language in their epistles to the first converts of Christianity: and the Acts of the Apostles, and all the monuments of the primitive ages bear testimony to the reformation of manners produced by the Gospel. This difference of success might indeed justly be expected from the difference of the two systems.

Mrs. Carter.—I have not quoted this note of Mrs. Carter, because I think that it is true. We do not know what was the effect of the teaching of Epictetus, unless this passage informs us, if Mrs. Carter has drawn a right inference from it. The language of Paul to the Corinthians is not very different from that of Epictetus, and he speaks very unfavourably of some of his Corinthian converts. We may allow that a reformation of manners was produced by the Gospel in many of the converts to Christianity, but there is no evidence that this reformation was produced in all; and there is evidence that it was not. The corruptions in the early Christian church and in subsequent ages are a proof that the reforms made by the Gospel were neither universal nor permanent; and this is the result which our knowledge of human nature would lead us to expect.

116. See ii. 1. 13.

117. Dirce a pure stream in Boeotia , which flows into the Ismenus. The Marcian water is the Marcian aqueduct at Rome , which was constructed B. C. 144, and was the best water that Rome had. Some or me arches of this aqueduct exist. The bright stream of Dirce is spoken of in the Hercules Furens of Euripides (v. 573). The verse in the text which we may suppose that Epictetus made, has a spondee in the fourth place, which is contrary to the rule.

118. The small stones are supposed to be the marbles which decorated Athens , and the rock to be the Acropolis.

119. In the original it is Εἰσαγωγαί. It was a name used for short commentaries on the principles of any art; such as we now call Introductions, Compendiums, Elements. Gellius, xvi. 8 .

120. 12 See Schweig.’s note.

121. The MSS. have ἴσος εἰμί: but the emendation of Salmasius, σός εἰμι, is certain.

122.

There are innumerable passages in St. Paul, which, in reality, bear that noble testimony which Epictetus here requires in his imaginary character. Such are those in which he glories in tribulation; speaks with an heroic contempt of life, when set in competition with the performance of his duty; rejoices in bonds and imprisonments, and the view of his approaching martyrdom; and represents afflictions as a proof of God’s love. See Acts xx. 23, 24; Rom. v. 3, viii. 38—39; 2 Tim. iv. 6.

—Mrs. Carter.

123. The meaning is uncertain. See Schweighaeuser’s note.

124. Procrustes and Sciron, two robbers who infested Attica and were destroyed by Theseus, as Plutarch tells in his life of Theseus.

125. Antoninus x. 28,

only to the rational animal is it given to follow voluntarily what happens; but simply to follow is a necessity imposed on all.

Compare Seneca, Quaest. Nat. ii. 59.

126. See ii. 11. 1, and iii. 14. 8.

127. Theorems are defined by Cicero, de Fato, c. 6,

Percepta appelle quae dicuntur Graece θεωρήματα.

128. This rhetorician or orator, as Epictetus names him, appears to be the same person as Theopompus of Chios , the historian.

129.

That Epictetus does not quite correctly compare the notion of what is wholesome to the human body with the preconceived notion (anticipata notione) of moral good and bad, will be apparent to those who have carefully inquired into the various origin and principles of oar notions.

Schweigh. Also see his note on ἀνάτεινον.

130. The topic of the desires and aversions. Sec. iii. c. 2.

131. Compare i. c. 27, 10.

132. This is the meaning of what Medea says in the Medea of Euripides Epictetus does not give the words of the poet.

133. Compare iv. 7. 20.

134.

If you would subject all things to yourself, subject yourself to reason.

Seneca, Ep. 37.

135. See i. 7. 1.

136. The Pseudomenos was a treatise by Chrysippus (Diog. Laert. vii. Chrysippus).

The Pseudomenos was a famous problem among the Stoics, and it is this. When a person says, I lie; doth he lie, or doth he not? If he lies, he speaks truth: if he speaks truth, he lies. The philosophers composed many books on this difficulty. Chrysippus wrote six. Philetas wasted himself in studying to answer it.

Mrs. Carter.

137. Epictetus is ridiculing the men who compliment one another on their writings. Upton compares Horace, Epp. ii. 2. 87.

ut alter

Alterius sermone meros audiret honores—

Discedo Alcaeus puncto lllius? ille meo quis?

Quis nisi Callimachus?

138. Compare i. 19. 4.

139. Schweighaeuser has no doubt that we ought instead of συναγωγάς , collections, to read εἰσαγωγάς, introductions.

140. As to Archedemus, see ii. 4, 11; and Antipater, ii. 19, 2.

141. See iv. c. 12.

142. ἀῤῥωστήματα.

Aegrotationes quae appellantur a Stoicis ἀῤῥωστήματα .

Cicero, Tusc. iv. 10.

143. κομψῶς σοί ἐστι. Compare the Gospel of St. John iv. 52,

ἐπύθετο οὖν παρ’ αὐτῶν τὴν ὥραν ἐν ᾗ κομψότερον ἔσχε

144. Placet enim Chrysippo cum gradatim interrogetur, verbi causa, tria pauca sint anne multa, aliquanto prius quam ad multa perveniat quiescere; id est quod ab iis dicitur ἡσυχάζειν. Cicero, Acad. ii. Pr. 29. Compare Persius, Sat. vi. 80:

Depinge ubi sistam,

Inventus, Chrysippe, tui finitor acervi.

145. The passage is in Plato, Laws, ix. p. 854,

ὅταν σοι προσπίπτῃ τι τῶν τοιούτων δογμάτων

, etc. The conclusion is, if you cannot be cured of your (mental) disease, seek death which is better and depart from life. This bears some resemblance to the precept in Matthew vi. 29

And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee,

etc.

146. Hercules is said to have established gymnastic contests and to have been the first victor. Those who gained the victory both in wrestling and in the pancratium were reckoned in the list of victors as coming in the second or third place after him, and so on.

147. I have followed Wolff’s conjecture πύκτας instead of the old reading παίκτας.

148. Compare iii. 12. 15.

149. Castor and Pollux. Horace, Carm. i. 12:—

Quorum simul alba nautis

Stella refulsit, etc.

150. Gellius, xix. c. 1, 4

visa quae vi quadam sua sese inferunt noscitanda hominibus.

151.

Consider that every thing is opinion, and opinion is in thy power. Take away then, when thou choosest, thy opinion, and like a mariner, who has doubled the promontory, thou wilt find calm, every thing stable, and a waveless pay.

Antoninus, xii. 22.

152. Hesiod, Works and Days, v. 411.

153. Compare Gellius xvii. c. 19 .

154. See the long note communicated to Upton by James Harris; and Schweighaeuser’s note.

155. Diodorus, surnamed Cronus, lived at Alexandria in the time of Ptolemaeus Soter. He was of the school named the Megaric, and distinguished in dialectic.

156. If you assume any two of these three, they must be in contradiction to the third and destroy it.

157. speak to me, etc. may be supposed to be said to Epictetus, who has been ridiculing logical subtleties and the grammarians’ learning. When he is told to speak of good and evil, he takes a verse of the Odyssey, the first which occurs to him, and says, Listen. There is nothing to listen to, but it is as good for the hearer as any thing else. Then he utters some philosophical principles, and being asked where he learned them, he says, from Hellanicus, who was an historian, not a philosopher. He is bantering the hearer: it makes no matter from what author I learned them; it is all the same. The real question is, have you examined what Good and Evil are, and have you formed an opinion yourself?

158. The Peripatetics allowed many things to be good which contributed to a happy life; but still they contended that the smallest mental excellence was superior to all other things. Cicero, De Fin. v. 5. 31.

159. See ii. c. 8. 20.

160. to blame God means to blame the constitution and order of things, for to do this appeared to Epictetus to be absurd and wicked; as absurd as for the potter’s vessel to blame the potter, if that can be imagined, for making it liable to wear out and to break.

161.

Our fellowship is with the Father and with his son Jesus Christ,

1 John i. 3. The attentive reader will observe several passages besides those which have been noticed, in which there is a striking conformity between Epictetus and the Scriptures: and will perceive from them, either that the Stoics had learnt a good deal of the Christian language or that treating a subject practically and in earnest leads men to such strong expressions as we often find in Scripture and sometimes in the philosophers, especially Epictetus.

Mrs. Carter.

The word fellowship in the passage of John and of Epictetus is κοινωνία. See i. 29. note 19.

162.

Itaque Arcesilas negabat esse quidquam quod soiri posset, ne illud quidem ipsum, quod Socrates sibi reliquisset. Sic omnia latere censebat in occulto, neque ease quidquam quod oerni aut intelligi possit. Quibus de causis nihil oportere neque profiteri neque adfirmare quemquam neque adsensione adprobare.

Cicero, Academ. Post. 1. 12, Diog. Laert. ix. 90 of the Pyrrhonists.

163. Cicero, de Fin. ii. 30. 31, speaking of the letter, which Epicurus wrote to Hermarchus when he was dying, says

that the actions of Epicurus were inconsistent with his sayings,

and

his writings were confuted by his probity and morality.

164. Paul says, Cor. i. 15. 32:

If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus , what advantageth it me, if the dead rise not? let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.

The words let us eat and drink, etc. are said to be a quotation from the Thais of Menander. The meaning seems to be, that if I do not believe in the resurrection of the dead, why should I not enjoy the sensual pleasures of life only? This is not the doctrine of Epictetus, as we see in the text.

165. It would give security to the Epicureans, that they would enjoy all that they value, if other men should be persuaded that we are all made for fellowship, and that temperance is a good thing.

166. See Upton’s note.

167. I have followed Schweighaeuser who suggests προσεξεργάσασθαι in place of the MSS. προσεργάσασθαι.

168. Polybius (vi. 56), when he is speaking of the Roman state, commends the men of old time, who established in the minds of the multitude the opinions about the gods and Hades, wherein, he says, they acted more wisely than those in his time who would destroy suck opinions.

169. Epictetus alludes to the Spartans who fought at Thermopylae B. C. 480 against Xerxes and his army. Herodotus (vii. 228) has recorded the inscription placed over the Spartans:—

Stranger, go tell the Spartans, Here we lie

Obedient to those who bade us die.

The inscription is translated by Cicero, Tusc. Disp. i. 42.

170. When Xerxes was advancing on Athens , the Athenians left the city and embarked on their vessels before the battle of Salamis , B. C. 480. See Cicero, De Officiis, iii. 11.

171. He is now attacking the Academics, who asserted that we can know nothing.

172. Epictetus is speaking according to the popular notions. To deny Demeter and to eat the bread which she gives is the same thing in the common notions of the Greeks, as it would be for Epictetus to deny the existence of God and to eat the bread which he gives.

173. The MSS. have παράσχωμεν. Παράσχωσι would be in conformity with the rest of the passage. But this change of persons is common in Epictetus.

174.

This resembles what our Saviour said to the Jewish rulers:

Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you.

Matthew, xxi. 31.

Mrs. Carter.

To an Academic who said he comprehended nothing, the Stoic Ariston replied, Do you not see even the person who is sitting near you? When the Academic denied it, Ariston said, Who made you blind? who stole your power of sight. (Diog. Laert. vii. 163. Upton.)

175. Schweig. has some remarks on the title of this chapter. He says

that this discourse does not keep to the same subject, but proceeds from that with which it began to other things.

176. καταστολὰς ποιήσας. I have omitted these words because I don’t understand them; nor do the commentators. The word καταστολή occurs in ii. 10. 15, where it is intelligible.

177. Literally, because to you or for you nothing is brought from home. Perhaps the meaning is explained by what follows. The man has no comfort at home; he brings nothing by the thought of which he is comforted.

178. See i. 7.

179. See ii. 17. 34.

180. τί με ταῦτα ὠφελήσει; Schweig. in his note says that he has written the text thus; but he has not. He has written τί μετὰ ταῦτα ὠφελήσει; The με appears to be necessary, and he has rendered the passage accordingly; and rightly, I think.

181. See i. 4, note 5 on Halteres.

182. See ii. 25.

183.

In this dissertation is expounded the Stoic principle that friendship is only possible between the good.

Schweig. He also says that there was another discourse by Epictetus on this subject, in which he expressed some of the opinions of Musonius Rufus (i. 1. note 12). Schweig draws this conclusion from certain words of Stobaeus; and he supposes that this dissertation of Epictetus was in one of the last four books of Epictetus’ discourses by Arrian, which have been lost.

Cicero (de Amicit. c. 5) says

nisi in bonis amicitiam ease non posse,

and c. 18.

184. The first verse is from the Alcestis of Euripides, v. 691. The second in Epictetus is not in Euripides. Schweighaeuser thinks that it has been intruded into the text from a trivial scholium.

185. From the Phoenissae of Euripides, v. 723, etc.

186. Compare Euripides, Hecuba, v. 846, etc.:—

δεινόν γε θνητοῖς ὡς ἅπαντα συμπίτνει

καὶ τὰς ἀνάγκας ὡς νόμοι διώρισαν,

φίλους τιφέντες τούς γε πολεμιωτάτους

ἐχθρούς τε τοὺς πρὶν εὐμενεῖς ποιούμενοι.

187. Alexander did this when Hephaestion died. Arrian. Expedition of Alexander, vii. 14.

188. Matthew vi. 21,

for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

189.

By self is here meant the proper Good, or, as Solomon expresses it, Eccl. xii. 13, the whole of man. The Stoic proves excellently the inconvenience of placing this in any thing but a right choice (a right disposition and behaviour): but how it is the interest of each individual in every case to make that choice in preference to present pleasure and in defiance of present sufferings, appears only from the doctrine of a future recompense.

Mrs. Carter. Compare Cicero, De Fin. ii. 15, where he is speaking of Epicurus, and translates the words ἀποφαίνειν ἢ μηδὲν εἶναι τὸ καλὸν ἢ ἄρα τὸ ἔνδοξον,

ut enim consuetudo loquitur, id solum dicitur Honestum quod est populari fama gloriosum ( ἔνδοξον).

See Schweig.’s note.

190. The quarrels of the Athenians with the Lacedaemonians appear chiefly in the history of the Peloponnesian war. (Thucydides, i. 1). The quarrel of the great king, the king of Persia , is the subject of the history of Herodotus (i. 1). The great quarrel of the Macedonians with the Persians is the subject of Arrian’s expedition of Alexander. The Romans were at war with the Getae or Daci in the time of Trajan, and we may assume that Epictetus was still living then.

191. Aristotle, Eth. viii. c. 8. Mrs. Carter.

192. Schweig. thinks that this is the plain meaning: as wild beasts in the mountains lie in wait for men, so men lie in wait for men, not only in deserted places, but even in the forum.

193. ὅπου δόσις τοῦ καλοῦ. Lord Shaftesbury suggested δόσις καὶ λῆψις τοῦ καλοῦ: which Upton approved, and he refers to ii. 9. 12, αἱ ἀκατάλληλοι λήψεις καὶ δόσεις. Schweighaeuser suggests διαδόσις which I have followed in the version. Schweig. refers to i. 12. 6 i. 14. 9. The MSS. give no help.

194. The old story about Eriphyle who betrayed her husband for a necklace.

195. See Schweig.’s note

196. The word for spirit is πνεῦμα, a vital spirit, an animal spirit, a nervous fluid, as Schweighaeuser explains it, or as Plutarch says (De Placit. Philosoph. iv. 15).

the spirit which has the power of vision, which permeates from the chief faculty of the mind to the pupil of the eye.

and in another passage of the same treatise (iv. 8),

the instruments of perception are said to be intelligent spirits ( πνεύματα νοερά) which have a motion from the chief faculty of the mind to the organs.

197. See Schweig.’s note.

198. See i. 1.

199. Schweighaeuser has this note:

That which Epictetus names the προαιρετικὴ δυναμίς and afterwards frequently προαίρεσις, is generally translated by voluntas ( will); but it has a wider meaning than is generally given to the Latin word, and it comprehends the intellect with the will, and all the active power of the mind which we sometimes designate by the general name Reason.

200. On the Greek text Upton remarks that,

there are many passages in these dissertations which are ambiguous or rather confused on account of the small questions, and because the matter is not expanded by oratorical copiousness, not to mention other causes.

201. The general reading is καὶ προαιρετά. Salmasius proposes καὶ ἀπροαίρετα, which Schweig. says in a note that he accepts, and so he translates it in the Latin; but in his text he has καὶ προαιρετά.

202. This appears to be the book which Cicero (Tuscul. iii. 18) entitles on the supreme good (

de summo bono

), which, as Cicero, says, contains all the doctrine of Epicurus. The book on the Canon or Rule is mentioned by Velleius in Cicero de Nat. Deorum i. c. 16. as

that celestial volume of Epicurus on the Rule and Judgment.

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That confidence (courage) is not inconsistent with caution.

Of tranquillity (freedom from perturbation).

To those who recommend persons to philosophers.

Against a person who had once been detected in adultery.

How magnanimity is consistent with care.

Of indifference.

How we ought to use divination.

What is the nature ( ἡ οὐσία) of the Good

That when we cannot fulfil that which the character of a man promises, we assume the character of a philosopher.

How we may discover the duties of life from names.

What the beginning of philosophy is.

Of disputation or discussion.

On anxiety (solicitude).

To Naso.

To or against those who obstinately persist in what they have determined.

That we do not strive to use our opinions about good and evil.

How we must adapt preconceptions to particular cases.

How we should struggle against appearances.

Against those who embrace philosophical opinions only in words.

Against the Epicureans and Academics.

Of inconsistency.

On friendship.

Polynices.

Eteocles.

Pol.

Et.

On the power of speaking.

To (or against) a person who was one of those who were not valued (esteemed) by him.

That logic is necessary.

What is the property of error.

Current edition Perseus

ὅτι οὐ μάχεται τὸ θαρρεῖν τῷ εὐλαβεῖσθαι.

περὶ ἀταραξίας.

πρὸς τοὺς συνιστάντας τινὰς τοῖς φιλοσόφοις.

πρὸς τὸν ἐπὶ μοιχείᾳ ποτὲ κατειλημμένον.

πῶς συνυπάρχει μεγαλοφροσύνη καὶ ἐπιμέλεια.

περὶ ἀδιαφορίας.

πῶς μαντευτέον.

τίς οὐσία τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ.

ὅτι οὐ δυνάμενοι τὴν ἀνθρώπου ἐπαγγελίαν πληρῶσαι τὴν φιλοσόφου προσλαμβάνομεν.

πῶς ἀπὸ τῶν ὀνομάτων τὰ καθήκοντα ἔστιν εὑρίσκειν.

τίς ἀρχὴ φιλοσοφίας.

περὶ τοῦ διαλέγεσθαι.

περὶ τοῦ ἀγωνιᾶν.

(25, 26)

πρὸς Νάσωνα.

πρὸς τοὺς σκληρῶς τισιν ὧν ἔκριναν ἐμμένοντας.

ὅτι οὐ μελετῶμεν χρῆσθαι τοῖς περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν δόγμασιν.

πῶς ἐφαρμοστέον τὰς προλήψεις τοῖς ἐπὶ μέρους.

πῶς ἀγωνιστέον πρὸς τὰς φαντασίας.

πρὸς τοὺς μέχρι λόγου μόνον ἀναλαμβάνοντας τὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων.

πρὸς Ἐπικουρείους καὶ Ἀκαδημαικούς.

περὶ ἀνομολογίας.

περὶ φιλίας.

περὶ τῆς τοῦ λέγειν δυνάμεως.

πρός τινα τῶν οὐκ ἠξιωμένων ὑπʼ ερ αὐτοῦ.

πῶς ἀναγκαῖα τὰ λογικά.

τί τὸ ἴδιον τοῦ ἁμαρτήματος.

That courage is not inconsistent with caution.

Of tranquillity.

Concerning such as recommend persons to the philosophers.

Concerning a man who had been guilty of adultery.

How nobleness of mind may be consistent with prudence.

Of circumstances. 2

Of divination.

Wherein consists the essence of good.

That some persons, failing to fulfil what the character of a man implies, assume that of a philosopher.

How we may infer the duties of life from its nominal functions.

The beginning of philosophy.

Of disputation.

Of anxiety.

Concerning Naso.

Concerning those who obstinately persist in whatever they have determined.

What we do not study to make use of the established principles concerning good and evil.

How to apply general principles to particular cases.

How to deal with the semblances of things.

Concerning those who embrace philosophy only in words.

Concerning the Epicureans and Academics.

Of circumstances.²

Polynices

Where wilt thou stand before the towers?

Eteocles

Why askest thou this of me?

Pol.

I will oppose myself to thee, to slay thee.

Et.

Me too the desire of this seizes.