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Of the things which are, and the things which are not in our own power.

Of human faculties in general, you will find that each is unable to contemplate itself, and therefore to approve or disapprove itself. How far does the proper sphere of grammar extend? As far as the judging of language. Of music? As far as the judging of melody. Does either of them contemplate itself, then? By no means.

Thus, for instance, when you are to write to your friend, grammar will tell you what to write; but whether you are to write to your friend at all, or no, grammar will not tell you. Thus music, with regard to tunes; but whether it be proper or improper, at any particular time, to sing or play, music will not tell you. What will tell, then?

That faculty which contemplates both itself and all other things.

And what is that?

The Reasoning Faculty; for that alone is found able to place an estimate upon itself,—what it is, what are its powers, what its value and likewise all the rest. For what is it else that says, gold is beautiful? since the gold itself does not speak. Evidently, that faculty which judges of the appearances of things.¹ What else distinguishes music, grammar, the other faculties, proves their uses, and shows their proper occasions?

Nothing but this.

As it was fit, then, this most excellent and superior faculty alone, a right use of the appearances of things, the gods have placed in our own power; but all other matters they have not placed in our power. What, was it because they would not? I rather think that, if they could, they had granted us these too; but they certainly could not. For, placed upon earth, and confined to such a body and to such companions, how was it possible that, in these respects, we should not be hindered by things outside of us?

But what says Zeus? Epictetus, if it had been possible, I had made this little body and property of thine free, and not liable to hindrance. But now do not mistake; it is not thy own, but only a finer mixture of clay. Since, then, I could not give thee this, I have given thee a certain portion of myself; this faculty of exerting the powers of pursuit and avoidance, of desire and aversion, and, in a word, the use of the appearances of things. Taking care of this point, and making what is thy own to consist in this, thou wilt never be restrained, never be hindered; thou wilt not groan, wilt not complain, wilt not flatter any one. How, then? Do all these advantages seem small to thee? Heaven forbid! Let them suffice thee, then, and thank the gods.

But now, when it is in our power to take care of one thing, and to apply ourselves to one, we choose rather to take care of many, and to encumber ourselves with many,—body, property, brother, friend, child, and slave,—and, by this multiplicity of encumbrances, we are burdened and weighed down. Thus, when the weather does not happen to be fair for sailing, we sit in distress and gaze out perpetually. Which way is the wind? North. What good will that do us? When will the west blow? When it pleases friend, or when Aeolus pleases; for Zeus has not made you dispenser of the winds, but Aeolus.

What, then, is to be done?

To make the best of what is in our power, and take the rest as it occurs.

And how does it occur?

As it pleases God.

What, then, must I be the only one to lose my head?

Why, would you have all the world, then, lose their heads for your consolation? Why are not you willing to stretch out your neck, like Lateranus,² when he was commanded by Nero to be beheaded? For, shrinking a little after receiving a weak blow, he stretched it out again. And before this, when Epaphroditus,³ the freedman of Nero, interrogated him about the conspiracy, If I have a mind to say anything, replied he, will tell it to your master.

What resource have we, then, upon such occasions? Why, what else but to distinguish between what is ours, and what not ours,—what is right, and what is wrong? I must die, and must I die groaning too? I must be fettered; must I be lamenting too? I must be exiled; and what hinders me, then, but that I may go smiling, and cheerful, and serene? Betray a secret. I will not betray it, for this is in my own power. Then I will fetter you. What do you say, man? Fetter me? You will fetter my leg, but not Zeus himself can get the better of my free will. I will throw you into prison; I will behead that paltry body of yours. Did I ever tell you that I alone had a head not liable to be cut off? These things ought philosophers to study; these ought they daily to write, and in these to exercise themselves.

Thraseas⁴ used to say, had rather be killed today than banished to-morrow. But how did Rufus⁵ answer him? If you prefer it as a heavier misfortune, how foolish a preference! If as a lighter, who has put it in your power? Why do you not study to be contented with what is allotted you?

Well, and what said Agrippinus ⁶ upon this account? will not be a hindrance to myself. Word was brought him, Your cause is pending in the senate. Good luck attend it; but it is eleven o’clock (the hour when he used to exercise before bathing),— let us go to our exercise. This being over, a messenger tells him, You are condemned. To banishment, says he, or to death? To banishment. What of my estate? It is not taken away. Well, then, let us go as far as Aricia,⁷ and dine there.

This it is to have studied what ought to be studied; to have placed our desires and aversions above tyranny and above chance. I must die,—if instantly, I will die instantly; if in a short time, I will dine first, and when the hour comes, then will I die. How? As becomes one who restores what is not his own.

In what manner, upon every occasion, to preserve our character.

To a reasonable creature, that alone is insupportable which is unreasonable, but everything reasonable may be supported. Stripes are not in themselves insupportable. How so? See how the Spartans⁸ bear whipping, after they have learned that it is a reasonable thing. Hanging is not insupportable; for, as soon as a man has taken it into his head that it is reasonable, he goes and hangs himself. In short, we shall find by observation that no creature is oppressed so much by anything as by what is unreasonable; nor on the other hand, attracted to anything so strongly, as to what is reasonable.

But it happens that different things are reasonable and unreasonable, as well as good and bad, advantageous and disadvantageous, to different persons. On this account, chiefly, we stand in need of a liberal education, to teach us to adapt the preconceptions of reasonable and unreasonable to particular cases, conformably to nature. But to judge of reasonable and unreasonable, we make use not only of a due estimation of things without us, but of what relates to each person’s particular character. Thus, it is reasonable for one man to submit to a menial office, who considers this only, that if he does not submit to it he shall be whipt and lose his dinner, but that if he does, he has nothing hard or disagreeable to suffer; whereas to another it appears insupportable, not only to submit to such an office himself, but to respect any one else who does. If you ask me, then, whether you shall do this menial office or not, I will tell you it is a pleasanter thing to get a dinner than not, and a greater disgrace to be whipt than not to be whipt; so that, if you measure yourself by these things, go and do your office.

Ay, but this is not suitable to my character.

It is you who are to consider that, not I; for it is you who know yourself, what value you set upon yourself, and at what rate you sell yourself; for different people sell themselves at different prices.

Hence Agrippinus,⁹ when Florus was deliberating whether he should go to Nero’s shows, and perform some part in them himself, bid him go. But why do not you go, then? says Florus. Because, replied Agrippinus, do not deliberate about it. For he who once sets himself about such considerations, and goes to calculating the worth of external things, approaches very near to those who forget their own character. Why, then, do you ask me whether death or life be the more eligible? I answer, life. Pain or pleasure? I answer, pleasure. But if I do not act a part, I shall lose my head. Go and act it, then, but I will not. Why? Because you esteem yourself only as one thread of many that make up the piece. What then? You have nothing to care for, but how to be like the rest of mankind, as one thread desires not to be distinguished from the others. But I would be the purple,¹⁰ that small and brilliant part, which gives a lustre and beauty to the rest. Why, then, do you bid me resemble the multitude? At that rate, how shall I be the purple?

This Priscus Helvidius,¹¹ too, saw, and acted accordingly; for when Vespasian had sent to forbid his going to the Senate, he answered, It is in your power to prevent my continuing a senator; but while I am one I must go.— Well, then, at least be silent there. Do not ask my opinion and I will be silent.— But I must ask it. And I must speak what appears to me to be right.— But if you do, I will put you to death. When did I ever tell you that I was immortal? You will do your part, and I mine; it is yours to kill, and mine to die intrepid; fours to banish, mine to depart untroubled.

What good, then, did Priscus do, who was but a single person?, Why, what good does the purple do to the garment? What, but to be beautiful in itself, and to set a good example to the rest? Another, perhaps, if in such circumstances Caesar had forbidden his going to the Senate, would have answered, am obliged to you for excusing me. But such a one he would not have forbidden to go,—well knowing that he would either sit like a statue, or, if he spoke, would say what he knew to be agreeable to Caesar, and would overdo it by adding still more.

Thus acted even a wrestler, who was in danger of death, unless he consented to an ignominious amputation. His brother, who was a philosopher, coming to him, and saying Well, brother, what do you design to do? Let us cut away this part, and return again to the field. He refused, and courageously died.

When it was asked whether he acted thus as a wrestler, or a philosopher, I answer, as a man, said Epictetus; but as a man who had been proclaimed a champion at the Olympic games; who had been used to such places, and not exercised merely in the school of Bato.¹² Another would have had his very head cut off, if he could have lived without it. This is that regard to character, so powerful with those who are accustomed to introduce it, from their own breasts, into their deliberations.

Come now, Epictetus, take off your beard.¹³ If I am a philosopher, I answer, I will not take it off.— Then I will take off your head. If that will do you any good, take it.

It was asked, How shall each of us perceive what belongs to his character? Whence, replied Epictetus, does a bull, when the lion approaches, alone recognize his own qualifications, and expose himself alone for the whole herd? It is evident that with the qualifications occurs, at the same time, the consciousness of being indued with them. And in the same manner, whoever of us hath such qualifications will not be ignorant of them. But neither is a bull nor a gallant-spirited man formed all at once. We are to exercise, and qualify ourselves, and not to run rashly upon what doth not concern us.

Only consider at what price you sell your own free will, O man!—if only that you may not sell it for a trifle. The highest greatness and excellence perhaps seem to belong to others, to such as Socrates. Why, then, as we are born with a like nature, do not all, or the greater number, become such as he? Why, are all horses swift? Are all dogs sagacious? What, then, because my gifts are humble shall I neglect all care of myself? Heaven forbid! Epictetus may not surpass Socrates,—granted; but could I overtake him it might be enough for me. I shall never be Milo, and yet I do not neglect my body; nor Croesus, and yet I do not neglect my property; nor should we omit any effort from a despair of arriving at the highest.

How, from the doctrine that god is the father of mankind, we may proceed to its consequences.

If a person could be persuaded of this principle as he ought, that we are all originally descended from God, and that he is the father of men and gods, I conceive he never would think of himself meanly or ignobly. Suppose Caesar were to adopt you, there would be no bearing your haughty looks; and will you not feel ennobled on knowing yourself to be the son of God? Yet, in fact, we are not ennobled. But having two things united in our composition, a body in common with the brutes, and reason in common with the gods, many incline to this unhappy and mortal kindred, and only some few to that which is happy and divine. And, as of necessity every one must treat each particular thing according to the notions he forms about it, so those few who suppose that they are made for faith and honor and a wise use of things will never think meanly or ignobly concerning themselves. But with the multitude the case is contrary. For what am I? A poor contemptible man, with this miserable flesh of mine? Miserable indeed; but you have likewise something better than this poor flesh. Why, then, overlooking that, do you pine away in attention to this?

By means of this [animal] kindred some of us, deviating towards it, become like wolves, faithless, and crafty, and mischievous; others, like lions, wild and savage and untamed; but most of us foxes, and disgraceful even among brutes. For what else is a slanderous and ill-natured man but a fox, or something yet more wretched and mean? Watch and take heed, then, that you do not sink thus low.

Of progress.

He who is entering on a state of progress, having learned from the philosophers that good should be sought and evil shunned, and having learned, too, that prosperity and peace are no otherwise attainable by man than in not missing what he seeks, nor incurring what he shuns,—such a one totally extirpates and banishes all wayward desire, and shuns only those things over which he can have control. For if he should attempt to shun those things over which he has no control, he knows that he must sometimes incur that which he shuns, and be unhappy. Now if virtue promises happiness, prosperity, and peace, then progress in virtue is certainly progress in each of these. For to whatever point the perfection of anything absolutely brings us, progress is always an approach towards it.

How happens it, then, that when we confess virtue to be such, yet we seek, and make an ostentatious show of progress in other things! What is the business of virtue?

A life truly prosperous.

Who is in a state of progress, then? He who has best studied Chrysippus?¹⁴ Why, does virtue consist in having read Chrysippus through? If so, progress is confessedly nothing else than understanding a great deal of Chrysippus; otherwise we confess virtue to consist in one thing, and declare progress, which is an approach to it, to be quite another thing.

This person, they say, is already able to understand Chrysippus, by himself. Certainly, sir, you have made a vast improvement! What improvement? Why do you delude him? Why do you withdraw him from a sense of his real needs? Why do not you show him the real function of virtue, that he may know where to seek progress? Seek it there, O unfortunate, where your work lies. And where does your work lie? In learning what to seek and what to shun, that you may neither be disappointed of the one nor incur the other; in practising how to pursue and how to avoid, that you may not be liable to fail; in practising intellectual assent and doubt, that you may not be liable to be deceived. These are the first and most necessary things. But if you merely seek, in trembling and lamentation, to keep away all possible ills, what real progress have you made?

Show me then your progress in this point. As if I should say to a wrestler, Show me your muscle; and he should answer me, See my dumb-bells. Your dumb-bells are your own affair; I desire to see the effect of them.

Take the treatise on the active powers, and see how thoroughly I have perused it.

I do not inquire into this, O slavish man, but how you exert those powers, how you manage your desires and aversions, your intentions and purposes, how you meet events,—whether in accordance with nature’s laws or contrary to them. If in accordance, give me evidence of that, and I will say you improve; if the contrary, you may go your way, and not only comment on these treatises, but write such yourself; and yet what service will it do you? Do not you know that the whole volume is sold for five denarii? Does he who comments upon it, then, value himself at more than that sum? Never make your life to lie in one thing and yet seek progress in another.

Where is progress, then?

If any of you, withdrawing himself from externals, turns to his own will, to train, and perfect, and render it conformable to nature,—noble, free, unrestrained, unhindered, faithful, humble;—if he has learned, too, that whoever desires or shuns things beyond his own power can neither be faithful nor free, but must necessarily take his chance with them, must necessarily too be subject to others, to such as can procure or prevent what he desires or shuns; if, rising in the morning, he observes and keeps to these rules; bathes regularly, eats frugally, and to every subject of action applies the same fixed principles,—if a racer to racing, if an orator to oratory,—this is he who truly makes progress; this is he who has not labored in vain. But if he is wholly intent on reading books, and has labored that point only, and travelled for that, I bid him go home immediately and do his daily duties; since that which he sought is nothing.

The only real thing is to study how to rid life of lamentation, and complaint, and Alas! and I am undone, and misfortune, and failure; and to learn what death, what exile, what a prison, what poison is; that he may be able to say in a prison, like Socrates, My dear Crito, if it thus pleases the gods, thus let it be; and not, Wretched old man, have I kept my gray hairs for this! [Do you ask] who speaks thus? Do you think I quote some mean and despicable person? Is it not Priam who says it? Is it not Oedipus? Nay, how many kings say it? For what else is tragedy but the dramatized sufferings of men, bewildered by an admiration of externals? If one were to be taught by fictions that things beyond our will are nothing to us, I should rejoice in such a fiction, by which I might live prosperous and serene. But what your own aims are, it is your business to consider.

Of what service, then, is Chrysippus to us?

To teach you that those things are not false on which true prosperity and peace depend. Take my books, and you will see how true and conformable to nature those things are which give me peace. How great a happiness! And how great the benefactor who shows the way! To Triptolemus¹⁵ all men have raised temples and altars, because he gave us a milder kind of food; but to him who has discovered and brought to light and communicated the truth to all,—the means, not merely of living, but of living well,—who among you ever raised an altar or a temple, or dedicated a statue; or who worships God in his name? We offer sacrifices in memory of those who have given us corn and the vine; and shall we not give thanks to God for those who have nurtured such fruit in the human breast,—even the truth which makes us blessed?

Concerning the academics.¹⁶

It is said that there are those who will oppose very evident truths, and yet it is not easy to find a reason which may persuade such an one to alter his opinion. This may arise neither from his own strength nor from the weakness of his teacher; but when a man becomes obstinate in error, reason cannot always reach him.

Now there are two sorts of obstinacy: the one, of the intellect; the other, of the will. A man may obstinately set himself not to assent to evident truths, nor to quit the defence of contradictions. We all dread a bodily paralysis, and would make use of every contrivance to avoid it; but none of us is troubled about a paralysis of the soul. And yet, indeed, even with regard to the soul, when a person is so affected as not to apprehend or understand anything, we think him in a sad condition; but where the emotions of shame and modesty are under an absolute paralysis, we go so far as even to call this strength of mind!

Are you certain that you are awake? am not, replies such a person, for neither am I certain when in dreaming I appear to myself to be awake. Is there no difference, then, between these appearances? None. Shall I argue with this man any longer? For what steel or what caustic can I apply, to make him sensible of his paralysis? If he is sensible of it, and pretends not to be so, he is even worse than dead. He sees not his inconsistency, or, seeing it, holds to the wrong. He moves not, makes no progress; he rather falls back. His sense of shame is gone; his reasoning faculty is not gone, but brutalized. Shall I call this strength of mind? By no means,—unless we allow it to be such in the vilest debauchees publicly to speak and act out their worse impulses.

Of providence.

For every event that happens in the world it is easy to give thanks to Providence, if a person has but these two qualities in himself: a habit of closely considering what happens to each individual, and a grateful temper. Without the first, he will not perceive the usefulness of things which happen; and without the other, he will not be thankful for them. If God had made colors, and had not made the faculty of seeing them, what would have been their use? None. On the other hand, if he had made the faculty of observation, without objects to observe, what would have been the use of that? None. Again, if he had formed both the faculty and the objects, but had not made the light of day? Neither in that case would they have been of any use.

Who is it, then, that has fitted each of these to the other? Who is it that has fitted the sword to the scabbard, and the scabbard to the sword? Is there no such Being? From the very construction of a complete work, we are used to declare positively that it must be the operation of some artificer, and not the effect of mere chance. Does every such work, then, demonstrate an artificer, and do not visible objects, and the sense of seeing, and light, demonstrate one? Do not the difference of the sexes, and their inclination to each other, and the use of their several powers,—do not these things demonstrate an artificer? Most certainly they do.

But further; this constitution of understanding, by which we are not simply impressed by sensible objects, but take and subtract and add and combine, and pass from point to point by inference,—is not all this sufficient to prevail on some men, and make them ashamed of leaving an artificer out of their scheme? If not, let them explain to us what the power is that effects each of these, and how it is possible that chance should produce things so wonderful, and which carry such marks of design.

What, then, do these things belong to us alone?

Many, indeed,—such as are peculiarly necessary for a reasonable creature; but you will find many which are common to us with mere animals.

Then, do they too understand what happens?

Not at all; for use is one affair, and understanding another. But God had need of animals to make use of things, and of us to understand that use. It is sufficient, therefore, for them to eat, and drink, and sleep, and continue their species, and perform other such offices as belong to each of them; but to us, to whom He has given likewise a faculty of understanding, these offices are not sufficient. For if we do not proceed in a wise and systematic manner, and suitably to the nature and constitution of each thing, we shall never attain our end. For where the constitution of beings is different, their offices and ends are different likewise. Thus where the constitution is adapted only to use, there use is alone sufficient; but where understanding is added to use, unless that too be duly exercised the end of such a being will never be attained.

Well, then, each of the animals is constituted either for food, or husbandry, to produce milk, or for some other like use; and for these purposes what need is there of understanding things, and being able to discriminate concerning them? But God has introduced man, as a spectator of Himself and of his works; and not only as a spectator, but an interpreter of them. It is therefore shameful that man should begin and end where irrational creatures do. He is indeed to begin there, but to end where nature itself has fixed our end; and that is, in contemplation and understanding, and in a scheme of life conformable to nature.

Take care, then, not to die without the contemplation of these things. You take a journey to Olympia to behold the work of Phidias, and each of you thinks it a misfortune to die without a knowledge of such things; and will you have no inclination to see and understand those works for which there is no need to take a journey, but which are ready and at hand even to those who bestow no pains! Will you never perceive what you are, or for what you were born, or for what purpose you are admitted to behold this spectacle?

But there are in life some things unpleasant and difficult.

And are there none at Olympia ? Are you not heated? Are you not crowded? Are you not without good conveniences for bathing? Are you not wet through when it happens to rain? Do you not have uproar, and noise, and other disagreeable circumstances? But, I suppose, by comparing all these with the merit of the spectacle, you support and endure them. Well, and have you not received faculties by which you may support every event [of life]? Have you not received greatness of soul? Have you not received a manly spirit? Have you not received patience? What signifies to me anything that happens, while my soul is above it? What shall disconcert or trouble or appear grievous to me? Shall I neglect to use my powers to that purpose for which I received them; and shall I lament and groan at every casualty?

True, no doubt; but I have such a disagreeable catarrh! Attend to your diseases, then, as best you can. Do you say it is unreasonable that there should be such a discomfort in the world?

And how much better is it that you should have a catarrh than complain? Pray, what figure do you think Hercules would have made if there had not been a lion, and a hydra, and a stag, and unjust and brutal men, whom he expelled and cleared away? And what would he have done if none of these had existed? Is it not plain that he must have wrapped himself up and slept? In the first place, then, he would never have become a Hercules by slumbering away his whole life in such delicacy and ease; or if he had, what good would it have done? What would have been the use of his arm and his strength, of his patience and greatness of mind, if such circumstances and subjects of action had not roused and exercised him?

What, then, must we provide these things for ourselves; and introduce a boar and a lion and a hydra into our country?

This would be madness and folly. But as they were in being, and to be met with, they were proper subjects to call out and exercise Hercules. Do you therefore likewise, being sensible of this, consider the faculties you have, and after taking a view of them say, Bring on me now, O Zeus, what difficulty thou wilt, for I have faculties granted me by thee, and powers by which I may win honor from every event? No; but you sit trembling, for fear this or that should happen, and lamenting and mourning and groaning at what doth happen; and then you accuse the gods! In what does such baseness end but in impiety? And yet God has not only granted these faculties by which we may bear every event without being depressed or broken by it, but, like a good prince and a true father, has placed their exercise above restraint, compulsion, or hindrance, and wholly within our own control; nor has he reserved a power, even to himself, of hindering or restraining them. Having these things free, and your own, will you not use them, nor consider what you have received, nor from whom? But you sit groaning and lamenting, some of you, blind to him who gave them, and not acknowledging your benefactor; while others basely turn themselves to complaints and accusations against God! I undertake to show you that you have means and faculties to exhibit greatness of soul, and a manly spirit; but what occasion you have to find fault and complain, do you show me if you can.

Of the use of the forms of right reasoning.

It is not understood by most persons that the proper use of inferences and hypotheses and interrogations, and logical forms generally, has any relation to the duties of life. In every matter of action the question is, how a wise and good man may come honestly and consistently out of it. We must admit, therefore, either that the wise man will not engage in difficult problems or that, if he does, he will not think it worth his care to deal with them thoroughly; or if we allow neither of these alternatives, it is necessary to confess that some examination ought to be made of those points on which the solution of these problems chiefly depends. For what is reasoning? To lay down true positions, to reject false ones, and to suspend the judgment in doubtful ones. Is it enough, then, to have learned merely this? It is enough, say you. Is it enough, then, for him who would not commit any mistake in the use of money, merely to have heard that we are to receive the good pieces, and to reject the bad? This is not enough. What must be added besides? That skill which tries and distinguishes what pieces are good, what bad. Therefore, in reasoning too, the definition just given is not enough; but it is necessary that we should be able to prove and distinguish between the true and the false and the doubtful. This is clear.

And what further is attempted in reasoning? To admit the logical consequence of whatever you have properly granted. Well, and is it enough merely to know this necessity? It is not; but we must learn how it happens that such a thing is the consequence of such another, and when one thing follows from one premise, and when from many premises. Is it not moreover necessary that he who would acquit himself skilfully in reasoning should both himself demonstrate whatever he asserts and be able to comprehend the demonstrations of others, and not be deceived by such as use sophistry as if they were reasoning fairly? Hence arises the use and practice of logical forms; and it appears to be indispensable.

But it may possibly happen that from the premises which we have honestly granted there arises some consequence which, though false in itself, is nevertheless a fair inference. What then ought I to do? To admit a falsehood? Impossible. To take back my concessions? But this will not be allowed. Or assert that the consequence does not fairly follow from the premises? Nor is even this practicable. What then, is to be done in the case? Is it not this? As the having once borrowed money is not enough to make a person a debtor, unless he still continues to owe money and has not paid it, so the having granted the premises is not enough to make it necessary to grant the inference, unless we continue our concessions. If the premises continue to the end such as they were when the concessions were made, it is absolutely necessary to continue the concessions, and to admit what follows from them. But if the premises do not continue such as they were when the concession was made, it is absolutely necessary to revoke the concession, and refuse to accept the inference. For this inference is no consequence of ours, nor belongs to us, when we have revoked the concession of the premises. We ought then thoroughly to consider our premises and their different aspects, on which any one, by laying hold,—either on the question itself or on the answer, or on the inference, or elsewhere,—may embarrass the unthinking who did not foresee the result. So that in this way we may not be led into any unbecoming or confused position.

The same thing is to be observed in hypotheses and hypothetical arguments. For it is sometimes necessary to require some hypothesis to be granted, as a kind of step to the rest of the argument. Is every given hypothesis, then, to be granted, or not every one? and if not every one, which? And is he who has granted an hypothesis forever to abide by it! Or is he sometimes to revoke it, and admit only consequences, but not to admit contradictions? Ay, but a person may say, on your admitting a possible hypothesis, will drive you upon an impossibility. With such a one as this, shall the wise man never engage, but avoid all argument and conversation with him? And yet who beside the wise man is capable of treating an argument, or who beside is sagacious in reasoning, and incapable of being deceived and imposed on by sophistry? Or will he indeed engage, but without regarding whether he behaves rashly and heedlessly in the argument? Yet how, then, can he be wise, as we are supposing him? and without some such exercise and preparation, how can he hold his own? If this could be shown, then indeed all these forms of reasoning would be superfluous and absurd, and unconnected with our idea of the virtuous man.

Why, then, are we still indolent, and slothful, and sluggish, seeking pretences of avoiding labor? Shall we not be watchful to render reason itself accurate? But suppose, after all, I should make a mistake in these points,—it is not as if I had killed my father. O slavish man, in this case you had no father to kill. but the only fault that you could commit in this instance, you have committed. This very thing I myself said to Rufus when he reproved me for not finding the weak point in some syllogism. Why, said I, have I burnt the capitol then? Slave! answered he, was the thing here involved the capitol? Or are there no other faults but burning the capitol, or killing a father? And is it no fault to treat rashly, and vainly, and heedlessly, the things which pass before our eyes,—not to comprehend a reason, nor a demonstration, nor a sophism; nor, in short, to see what is strong in reasoning and what is weak? Is there nothing wrong in this?

That logical subtleties are not safe to the uninstructed.

In as many ways as equivalent syllogisms may be varied, in so many may the technical forms be varied likewise. As, for instance: If you had borrowed and not paid, you owe me money; but you have not borrowed and not paid; therefore you do not owe me money. To perform these processes skilfully, is held to be the peculiar mark of a philosopher. For if an enthymema be an imperfect syllogism, he who is versed in the perfect syllogism must be equally ready to detect an imperfect one.

Why, then, do not we exercise ourselves and others after this manner?

Because, even now, though we are not wholly absorbed in these things, nor diverted, by me at least, from the study of morality, yet we make no eminent advances in virtue. What is to be expected, then, if we should add this avocation too? Especially as it would not only withdraw us from more necessary studies, but likewise afford a capital occasion of conceit and insolence. For the faculty of arguing and of persuasive reasoning is great; and particularly, if it is constantly practised, and receives an additional ornament from rhetoric. In general, every such faculty is dangerous to weak and uninstructed persons, as being apt to render them arrogant and elated. For by what method can one persuade a young man who excels in these kinds of study that he ought not to be an appendage to these accomplishments, but they to him? Will he not trample upon all such advice, and walk about elated and puffed up, not bearing that any one should touch him, to put him in mind where he is wanting, and in what he goes wrong?

What, then, was not Plato a philosopher?

Well, and was not Hippocrates a physician? Yet you see how he expresses himself. But what has his style to do with his professional qualities? Why do you confound things accidentally united in the same men? If Plato was handsome and well made, must I too set myself to becoming handsome and well made,—as if this was necessary to philosophy, because a certain person happened to be at once handsome and a philosopher? Why will you not perceive and distinguish what are the things that make men philosophers, and what belong to them on other accounts? Pray, if I were a philosopher, would it be necessary that you should be lame too [like me]?

What then? Do I reject these special faculties? By no means; neither do I reject the faculty of seeing. But if you ask me what is the good of man, I know not where it lies save in dealing wisely with the phenomena of existence.

How from the doctrine of our relationship to god we are to deduce its consequences.

If what philosophers say of the kinship between God and men be true, what has any one to do but, like Socrates, when he is Asked what countryman he is, never to say that he is a citizen of Athens , or of Corinth , but of the universe? For why, if you limit yourself to Athens , do you not farther limit yourself to that mere corner of Athens where your body was brought forth? Is it not, evidently, from some larger local tie, which comprehends, not only that comer and your whole house, but the whole country of your fathers, that you call yourself an Athenian, or a Corinthian? He, then, who understands the administration of the universe, and has learned that the principal and greatest and most comprehensive of all things is this vast system, extending from men to God: and that from Him the seeds of being are descended not only to one’s father or grandfather, but to all things that are produced and born on earth; and especially to rational natures, since they alone are qualified to partake of a communication with the Deity, being connected with him by reason,—why may not such a one call himself a citizen of the universe! Why not a son of God? And why shall he fear any thing that happens among men? Shall kinship to Caesar, or any other of the great at Rome , enable a man to live secure, above contempt, and void of all fear whatever; and shall not the having God for our maker, and father, and guardian, free us from griefs and alarms?

But wherewithal shall I be fed? For I have nothing.

To what do fugitive slaves trust when they run away from their masters? Is it to their estates,—their servants,—their plate? To nothing but themselves. Yet they do not fail to obtain the necessaries of life. And must a philosopher, think you, leave his own abode to rest and rely upon others, and not take care of himself? Must he be more helpless and anxious than the brute beasts?—each of which is self-sufficient, and wants neither proper food nor any suitable and natural provision. One would think that you would need an instructor, not to guard you from thinking too meanly or ignobly of yourselves, but that his business would be to rear up young men of such a spirit that, knowing their affinity to the gods, and that we are as it were fettered by the body and its possessions, and by so many other things as are thus made needful for the daily pursuits of life, they should resolve to throw them all off, as both troublesome and useless, and depart to their divine kindred.

This is the work, if any, that ought to employ your master and preceptor if you had one, that you should come to him and say: Epictetus, we can no longer bear being tied down to this poor body,—feeding, and resting, and cleaning it, and vexed with so many low cares on its account. Are not these things indifferent, and nothing to us, and death no evil? Are we not of kindred to God; and did we not come from him? Suffer us to go back thither from whence we came. Suffer us at length to be delivered from these fetters that bind and weigh us down. Here thieves and robbers, courts and tyrants, claim power over us, through the body and its possessions. Suffer us to show them that they have no power.

And in this case it would be my part to answer: My friends, wait for God, till he shall give the signal and dismiss you from this service; then return to him. For the present, be content to remain at this post where he has placed you. The time of your abode here is short and easy to such as are disposed like you; for what tyrant, what robber, what thief, or what court can be formidable to those who thus count for nothing the body and its possessions. Stay, nor foolishly depart.

Thus ought the case to stand between a preceptor and ingenuous young men. But how stands it now? The preceptor has no life in him, and you have none. When you have had enough to-day, you sit weeping about to-morrow, in regard to how you shall get food. Why, if you have it, slave, you will have it; if not, you will go out of life. The door is open, why do you lament; what room remains for tears; what occasion for flattery? Why should any one person envy another? Why should he be impressed with awe by those who have great possessions, or are placed in high rank,—especially, if they are powerful and passionate? For what can they do to us? The things which they can do, we do not regard; the things about which we are concerned, they cannot reach. Who, then, after all, shall hold sway over a person thus disposed? How behaved Socrates in regard to these things? As it became one conscious of kinship with the gods. He said to his judges:—

If you should tell me, We will acquit you upon condition that you shall no longer discourse in the manner you have hitherto done, nor make any disturbance among either our young or our old people, I would answer: You are ridiculous in thinking that if your general had placed me in any post I ought to maintain and defend it, and choose to die a thousand times, rather than desert it, but that if God has assigned me any station or method of life, I ought to desert that for you.

This it is for a man to truly recognize his relationship with God, But we habitually think of ourselves as [made up of] mere stomach and intestines and bodily parts. Because we fear, because we desire, we flatter those who can help us in these matters; we dread them too.

A person desired me once to write for him to Rome . He was one vulgarly esteemed unfortunate, as he had been formerly illustrious and rich, and was afterwards stripped of all his possessions, and reduced to live here. I wrote for him in a submissive style; but after reading my letter he returned it to me and said: wanted your assistance, not your pity; for no evil has befallen me.

Thus Rufus, to try me, used to say, This or that you will have from your master. When I answered him, These are mere human affairs, Why, then, says he, should I intercede with him,¹⁷ when you can receive from yourself things more important? For what one has of his own, it is superfluous and vain to receive from another. Shall I, then, who can receive nobleness and a manly spirit from myself, receive an estate, or a sum of money, or a place, from you? Heaven forbid! I will not be so insensible of my own possessions. But if a person is fearful and abject, what else is necessary but to apply for permission to bury him as if he were dead? Please forward to us the corpse of such a one. For, in fact, such a one is that, and nothing more. If he were anything more, he would be sensible that man is not to be made miserable at the will of his fellow-man.

Concerning those who seek preferment at Rome .

If we all applied ourselves as heartily to our proper business as the old politicians at Rome to their schemes, perhaps we too might accomplish something. I know a man older than I am, who is now a commissary at Rome . When he passed through this place, on his return from exile, what an account did he give me of his former life; and how did he promise that for the future, when he had returned he would apply himself to nothing but how to spend the remainder of his days in repose and tranquillity. For how few have I now remaining! he said. You will not do it, said I. When you are once within reach of Rome you will forget all this; and if you can but once gain admittance to court, you will be rejoiced and thank God. It you ever find me, Epictetus, said he, putting one foot into the court, think of me whatever you please. Yet, after all, how did he act? Before he entered the city he was met by a letter from Caesar. On receiving it he forgot all his former resolutions; and has ever since been accumulating affairs upon himself. I should be glad now to have an opportunity of putting him in mind of his discourse upon the road, and of pointing out by how much I was the truer prophet.

What, then, do I say? that man is made for an inactive life? No, surely. But why is not this life of ours fill of action? For my own part, I wake at dawn with my head full of my lessons for the coming day, and then say to myself, quickly, What is it to me how such a one recites? My present business is to sleep.

What comparison can be made between their kind of activity and ours? If you consider what it is they do, you will see; for about what are they employed the whole day but in calculating, contriving, consulting,—about provisions, about an estate, or other interests like these? Is there any likeness, then, between reading a petition, entreat you to give me a permission to export corn, and this, entreat you to learn from Chrysippus what the administration of the universe is, and what place a reasonable creature holds in it; learn, too, what you yourself are, and wherein your good and evil consist? Are these things at all alike? Do they require an equal degree of application? And is it no more shameful to neglect the one than the other?

Well, then, are we older men the only idle dreamers?

No, but you young men are so in a greater degree. And as we old folks, when we see young ones trifling, are tempted to trifle with them; so, much more, if I were to see you earnest and ardent, I should be excited to labor with you.

Of natural affection.

When an important personage once came to visit him, Epictetus, having inquired into the particulars of his affairs, asked him whether he had a wife and children. The other replying that he had, Epictetus likewise inquired, In what manner do you live with them? Very miserably, says he. How so? For men do not marry, and have children, in order to be miserable, but rather to make themselves happy. But I am so very miserable about my children that the other day, when my daughter was sick and appeared to be in danger, I could not bear even to be with her, but ran away, till it was told me that she was recovered. And pray do you think this was acting right? It was acting naturally, said he. Well, do but convince me that it was acting naturally, and I can as well convince you that everything natural is right. All, or most of us fathers, are affected in the same way. I do not deny the fact; but the question between us is, whether it is right. For by this way of reasoning it must be said that diseases happen for the good of the body, because they do happen; and even that vices are natural, because all, or most of us, are guilty of them. Do you show me, then, how such a behavior as yours appears to be natural.

I cannot undertake that; but do you rather show me that it is neither natural nor right.

If we were disputing about black and white, what criterion must we call in, to distinguish them?

The sight. If about hot and cold, or hard and soft, what? The touch.

Well, then, when we are debating about natural and unnatural and right and wrong what criterion are we to take?

I cannot tell.

And yet to be ignorant of a criterion of colors, or of smells, or tastes, might perhaps be no very great loss; but do you think that he suffers only a small loss who is ignorant of what is good and evil, and natural and unnatural to man?

No,—the very greatest.

Well, tell me; are all things which are judged good and proper by some rightly judged to be so? Thus, is it possible that the several opinions of Jews, and Syrians, and Egyptians, and Romans, concerning food should all be right?

How can it be possible?

I suppose, then, it is absolutely necessary that, if the opinions of the Egyptians be right, the others must be wrong; if those of the Jews be good, all the rest must be bad.

How can it be otherwise?

And where ignorance is, there likewise is want of wisdom and instruction in the most necessary points.

It is granted.

Then, as you are sensible of this, you will for the future apply yourself to nothing, and think of nothing else, but how to learn the criterion of what is agreeable to nature; and to use that in judging of each particular case. At present the assistance I have to give you towards what you desire is this: Does affection seem to you to be a right and a natural thing?

How should it be otherwise?

Well, and is affection natural and right, and reason not so?

By no means.

Is there any opposition, then, between reason and affection?

I think not.

Suppose there were; if one of two opposites be natural, the other must necessarily be unnatural, must it not?

It must.

What we find, then, to accord at once with love and reason, that we may safely pronounce to be right and good.

Agreed.

Well, then; you will not dispute this, that to run away, and leave a sick child, is contrary to reason. It remains for us to consider whether it be consistent with affection.

Let us consider it.

Did you, then, from an affection to your child, do right in running away and leaving her? Has her mother no affection for the child?

Yes, surely she has.

Would it have been right, then, that her mother too should leave her, or would it not?

It would not.

And does not her nurse love her?

She does.

Then ought she likewise to leave her?

By no means.

And does not her preceptor love her?

He does.

Then ought he also to have run away and left her,—the child being thus left alone and unassisted, from the great affection of her parents and her friends, or left to die among people who neither loved her nor took care of her?

Heaven forbid!

But is it not unreasonable and unjust that what you think right in yourself, on account of your affection, should not be allowed to others, who have the very same affection with you

It is absurd.

Pray, if you were ill yourself should you be willing to have your family, and even your wife and children, so very affectionate as to leave you helpless and alone?

By no means.

Or would you wish to be so loved by your friends as from their excessive affection always to be left alone when you were ill? Or would you not rejoice, if it were possible, to have such a kind of affection from your enemies, as to make them thus let you alone? If so, it remains, that your behavior was by no means affectionate. But now, was there no other motive that induced you to desert your child?

How is that possible?

I mean some such motive as induced a person at Rome to hide his face while a horse was running to which he earnestly wished success; and when, beyond his expectation, it won the race he was obliged himself to be sponged, to recover from his faintness.

And what was this motive?

At present, perhaps, it cannot be made clear to you. It is sufficient to be convinced, if what philosophers say be true, that we are not to seek any motive merely from without; but that there is the same [unseen] motive in all cases, which moves us to do or forbear any action; to speak or not to speak; to be elated or depressed; to avoid or pursue,—that very impulse which hath now moved us two; you, to come, and sit and hear me; and me, to speak as I do.

And what is that?

Is it anything else than that it seemed right to us to do so?

Nothing else.

And if it had seemed otherwise to us. what else should we have done than what we thought right? This, and not the death of Patroclus, was the real source of the lamentation of Achilles,—for every man is not thus affected by the death of a friend,—that it seemed right to him. This too was the cause of your running away from your child, that it then seemed right; and if hereafter you should stay with her, it will be because that seems right. You are now returning to Rome because it seems right to you; but if you should alter your opinion you will not return. In a word, neither death, nor exile, nor pain, nor anything of this kind, is the real cause of our doing or not doing any action, but our inward opinions and principles. Do I convince you of this, or not?

You do.

Well, then, such as the cause is, such will be the effect. From this day forward, then, whenever we do anything wrong, we will impute it to the wrong principle from which we act; and we will endeavor to remove and extirpate that, with greater care than we would remove wens and tumors from the body. In like manner, we will ascribe what we do right to the same cause; and we will accuse neither servant, nor neighbor, nor wife, nor children, as the cause of any evil to us,—persuaded that if we had not accepted certain principles, we should not carry them to such consequences. The control of these principles lies in us, and not in any outward things. Of these principles we ourselves, and not things outward, are the masters.

Agreed.

From this day, then, we will not so closely inquire as to any external conditions,—estate or slaves, or horses, or dogs,—but only make sure of our own principles.

Such is my desire, said the visitor.

You see, then, that it is necessary for you to become a student, that being whom every one laughs at, if you really desire to make an examination of your own principles; but this, as you should know, is not the work of an hour or a day.

Of contentment.

Concerning the gods, some affirm that there is no deity; others, that he indeed exists, but is slothful, negligent, and without providential care; a third class admits both his being and his providence, but only in respect to great and heavenly objects, not earthly; a fourth recognizes him both in heaven and earth, but only in general, not individual matters; a fifth, like Odysseus and Socrates, says, cannot be hid from thee in any of my motions.¹⁸

It is, before all things, necessary to examine each of these opinions; which is, and which is not rightly spoken. Now, if there are no gods, wherefore serve them? If there are, but they take no care of anything, how is the case bettered? Or, if they both are, and take care; yet, if there is nothing communicated from them to men, and therefore certainly nothing to me, how much better is it? A wise and good man, after examining these things, submits his mind to Him who administers the whole, as good citizens do to the laws of the commonwealth.

He, then, who comes to be instructed, ought to come with this aim: How may I in everything follow the gods? How may I acquiesce in the divine administration? And how may I be free? For he is free to whom all happens agreeably to his desire, and whom no one can unduly restrain.

What, then, is freedom mere license?

By no means; for madness and freedom are incompatible.

But I would have that happen which appears to me desirable, however it comes to appear so.

You are mad; you have lost your senses. Do not you know that freedom is a very beautiful and valuable thing? But for me to choose at random, and for things to happen agreeably to such a choice, may be so far from a beautiful thing, as to be of all things the most undesirable. For how do we proceed in writing? Do I choose to write the name of Dion (for instance) as I will? No, but I am taught to be willing to write it as it ought to be written. And what is the case in music? The same. And what in every other art or science? Otherwise, it would be of no purpose to learn anything if it were to be adapted to each one’s particular humor. Is it, then, only in the greatest and principal matter, that of freedom, permitted me to desire at random? By no means; but true instruction is this,—learning to desire that things should happen as they do. And how do they happen? As the appointer of them hath appointed. He hath appointed that there should be summer and winter, plenty and dearth, virtue and vice, and all such contrarieties, for the harmony of the whole. To each of us he has given a body and its parts, and our several possessions and companions. Mindful of this appointment, we should enter upon a course of education and instruction, not in order to change the constitution of things,—a gift neither practicable nor desirable,—but that, things being as they are with regard to us, we may have our minds accommodated to the facts. Can we, for instance, flee from mankind? How is that possible? Can we, by conversing with them, transform them? Who has given us such a power? What, then, remains, or what method is there to be found, for such a commerce with them that, while they act according to the appearances in their own minds, we may nevertheless be affected conformably to nature?

But you are wretched and discontented. If you are alone, you term it a desert; and if with men, you call them cheats and robbers. You find fault too with your parents, and children, and brothers, and neighbors. Whereas you ought, if you live alone, to call that repose and freedom, and to esteem yourself as resembling the gods; and when you are in company, not to call it a crowd, and a tumult, and a trouble, but an assembly, and a festival,—and thus to take all things contentedly. What, then, is the punishment of those who do not so accept them? To be as they are. Is any one discontented with being alone? Let him remain in his desert. Discontented with his parents? Let him be a bad son; and let him mourn, Discontented with his children? Let him be a bad father. Shall we throw him into prison? What prison? Where he already is; for he is in a situation against his will, and wherever any one is against his will, that is to him a prison,—just as Socrates was not truly in prison, for he was willingly there.

What, then, must my leg be lame?

And is it for one paltry leg, wretch, that you accuse the universe? Can you not forego that, in consider tion of the whole? Can you not give up something? Can you not gladly yield it to him who gave it? And will you be angry and discontented with the decrees of Zeus,—which he, with the Fates, who spun in his presence the thread of your birth, ordained and appointed? Do not you know how very small a part you are of the whole?—that is, as to body; for, as to reason, you are neither worse nor less than divine. For reason is not measured by size or height, but by principles. Will you not, therefore, place your good there where you share with the gods?

But how wretched am I, in such a father and mother!

What, then, was it granted you to come beforehand, and make your own terms, and say, Let such and such persons, at this hour, be the authors of my birth? It was not granted; for it was necessary that your parents should exist before you, and so you be born afterwards. Of whom? Of just such as they were. What, then, since they are such, is there no remedy afforded you? Surely, you would be wretched and miserable if you knew not the use of sight, and shut your eyes in presence of colors; and are not you more wretched and miserable in being ignorant that you have within you the needful nobleness and manhood wherewith to meet these accidents? Events proportioned to your reason are brought before you; but you turn your mind away, at the very time when you ought to have it the most open and discerning. Why do not you rather thank the gods that they have made you superior to those events which they have not placed within your own control, and have rendered you accountable for that only which is within your own control? They discharge you from all responsibility for your parents, for your brothers, for your body, possessions, death, life. For what, then, have they made you responsible? For that which is alone in your own power,—a right use of things as they appear. Why, then, should you draw those cares upon yourself for which you are not accountable? This is giving one’s self vexation without need.

How everything may be performed to the divine acceptance.

When a person inquired how any one might eat to the divine acceptance, If he eats with justice, said Epictetus, and with gratitude, and fairly, and temperately, and decently, must he not also eat to the divine acceptance? And if you call for hot water, and your servant does not hear you, or, if he does, brings it only warm, or perhaps is not to be found at home, then to abstain from anger or petulance, is not this to the divine acceptance?

But how is it possible to bear such things?

O slavish man! will you not bear with your own brother, who has God for his Father, as being a son from the same stock, and of the same high descent? But if you chance to be placed in some superior station, will you presently set yourself up for a tyrant? Will you not remember what you are, and over whom you bear rule,—that they are by nature your relations, your brothers; that they are the offspring of God?

But I have them by right of purchase, and not they me.

Do you see what it is you regard? Your regards look downward towards the earth, and what is lower than earth, and towards the unjust laws of men long dead; but up towards the divine laws you never turn your eyes.

That all things are under the divine supervision.

When a person asked him, how any one might be convinced that his every act is under the supervision of God? Do not you think, said Epictetus, that all things are mutually connected and united?

I do.

Well; and do not you think that things on earth feel the influence of the heavenly powers?

Yes.

Else how is it that in their season, as if by express command, God bids the plants to blossom and they blossom, to bud and they bud, to bear fruit and they bear it, to ripen it and they ripen; and when again he bids them drop their leaves, and withdrawing into themselves to rest and wait, they rest and wait? Whence again are there seen, on the increase and decrease of the moon, and the approach and departure of the sun, so great changes and transformations in earthly things? Have, then, the very leaves, and our own bodies, this connection and sympathy with the whole, and have not our souls much more? But our souls are thus connected and intimately joined to God, as being indeed members and distinct portions of his essence; and must he not be sensible of every movement of them, as belonging and connatural to himself? Can even you think of the divine administration, and every other divine subject, and together with these of human affairs also; can you at once receive impressions on your senses and your understanding from a thousand objects; at once assent to some things, deny or suspend your judgment concerning others, and preserve in your mind impressions from so many and various objects, by whose aid you can revert to ideas similar to those which first impressed you? Can you retain a variety of arts and the memorials of ten thousand things? And is not God capable of surveying all things, and being present with all, and in communication with all? Is the sun capable of illuminating so great a portion of the universe, and of leaving only that small part of it unilluminated, which is covered by the shadow of the earth, and cannot He who made and moves the sun, a small part of himself, if compared with the whole,—cannot he perceive all things?

But I cannot, say you, attend to all things at once. Who asserts that you have equal power with Zeus? Nevertheless, he has assigned to each man a director, his own good genius, and committed him to that guardianship,—a director sleepless and not to be deceived. To what better and more careful guardian could he have committed each one of us? So that when you have shut your doors, and darkened your room, remember never to say that you are alone; for you are not alone, but God is within, and your genius is within; and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To this God you likewise ought to swear such an oath as the soldiers do to Caesar. For they, in order to receive their pay, swear to prefer before all things the safety of Caesar; and will you not swear, who have received so many and so great favors; or, if you have sworn, will you not fulfil the oath? And what must you swear? Never to distrust, nor accuse, nor murmur at any of the things appointed by him; nor to shrink from doing or enduring that which is inevitable. Is this oath like the former In the first oath persons swear never to dishonor Caesar: by the last. never to dishonor themselves.

What philosophy promises.

When one consulted him, how he might persuade his brother to forbear treating him ill, Philosophy, answered Epictetus, does not promise to procure any outward good for man; otherwise it would include something beyond its proper theme. For as the material of a carpenter is wood; of a statuary, brass; so of the art of living, the material is each man’s own life.

What, then, is my brother’s life?

That, again, is matter for his own art, but is external to you; like property, health, or reputation. Philosophy undertakes none of these. In every circumstance I will keep my will in harmony with nature. To whom belongs that will? To Him in whom I exist.

But how, then, is my brother’s unkindness to be cured?

Bring him to me, and I will tell him; but I have nothing to say to you about his unkindness.

But the inquirer still further asking for a rule for self-government, if he should not be reconciled, Epictetus answered thus,—

No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer you, that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. Since, then, the fruit of a fig-tree is not brought to perfection suddenly, or in one hour, do you think to possess instantaneously and easily the fruit of the human mind? I warn you, expect it not.

Of providence.

Be not surprised if other animals have all things necessary to the body ready provided for them, not only meat and drink, but lodging; if they want neither shoes nor bedding nor clothes, while we stand in need of all these. For they not being made for themselves, but for service, it was not fit that they should be so formed as to be waited on by others. For consider what it would be for us to take care, not only for ourselves, but for sheep and asses too,—how they should be clothed, how shod, and how they should eat and drink. But as soldiers are furnished ready for their commander, shod, clothed, and armed,—for it would be a grievous thing for a colonel to be obliged to go through his regiment to put on their clothes,—so nature has furnished these useful animals, ready provided, and standing in need of no further care; so that one little boy, with only a crook, drives a flock.

But we, instead of being thankful for this, complain of God that there is not the same kind of care taken of us likewise; and yet, good Heaven! any one thing in the creation is sufficient to demonstrate a Providence, to a humble and grateful mind. Not to instance great things, the mere possibility of producing milk from grass, cheese from milk, and wool from skins,—who formed and planned this? No one, say you. O surprising irreverence and dulness! But come, let us omit the primary works of nature; let us contemplate her merely incidental traits. What is more useless than the hairs upon one’s chin? And yet has she not made use even of these, in the most becoming manner possible? Has she not by these distinguished the sexes? Does not nature in each of us call out, even at a distance, I am a man; approach and address me as such; inquire no further; see the characteristic? On the other hand, with regard to women, as she has mixed something softer in their voice, so she has deprived them of a beard. But no; [some think] this living being should have been left undistinguished, and each of us should be obliged to proclaim, I am a man! But why is not this characteristic beautiful and becoming and venerable? How much more beautiful than the comb of cocks; how much more noble than the mane of lions! Therefore we ought to preserve the characteristics made by the Creator; we ought not to reject them, nor confound, as much as in us lies, the distinct sexes.

Are these the only works of Providence with regard to us? And what speech can fitly celebrate their praise? For, if we had any understanding, ought we not, both in public and in private, incessantly to sing and praise the Deity, and rehearse his benefits? Ought we not, whether we dig or plough or eat, to sing this hymn to God,—Great is God, who has supplied us with these instruments to till the ground; great is God, who has given us hands and organs of digestion; who has given us to grow insensibly, to breathe in sleep? These things we ought forever to celebrate; and to make it the theme of the greatest and divinest hymn, that he has given us the power to appreciate these gifts, and to use them well. But because the most of you are blind and insensible, there must be some one to fill this station, and lead, in behalf of all men, the hymn to God; for what else can I do, a lame old man, but sing hymns to God? Were I a nightingale, I would act the part of a nightingale were I a swan, the part of a swan; but since I am a reasonable creature, it is my duty to praise God. This is my business; I do it; nor will I ever desert this post, so long as it is permitted me; and I call on you to join in the same song.

That the art of reasoning is necessary.

Since it is Reason which shapes and regulates all other things, it ought not itself to be left in disorder; but by what shall it be regulated? Evidently, either by itself, or by something else. Well, either that too is Reason, or something else superior to Reason, which is impossible; and if it be Reason, what again shall regulate that? For if this Reason can regulate itself, so can the former; and if we still require any further agent, the series will be infinite and without end.

But, say you, the essential thing is to prescribe for qualities of character.

Would you hear about these, therefore? Well, hear. But then, if you say to me that you cannot tell whether my arguments are true or false, and if I happen to express myself ambiguously, and you bid me make it clearer, I will then at once show you that this is the first essential. Therefore, I suppose, they first establish the art of reasoning,—just as before the measuring of corn, we settle the measure; for, unless we first determine the measure and the weight, how shall we be able to measure or weigh? Thus, in the present case, unless we have first learned and fixed that which is the criterion of other things, and by which other things are learned, how shall we be able accurately to learn anything else? How is it possible? Well, a bushel-measure is only wood, a thing of no value, but it measures corn; and logic is of no value in itself. That we will consider hereafter, but grant it now; it is enough that it distinguishes and examines, and, as one may say, measures and weighs all other things. Who says this? Is it only Chrysippus, and Zeno, and Cleanthes? Does not Antisthenes say it? And who is it, then, who has written that the beginning of a right education is the examination of words? Does not Socrates say it? Of whom, then, does Xenophon write, that he began by the examination of words, what each signified?

Is this, then, the great and admirable thing, to understand or interpret Chrysippus?

Who says that it is? But what, then, is the admirable thing?

To understand the will of nature.

Well, then; do you conform to it yourself? In that case, what need have you for any one else? For if it be true that men err but unwillingly, and if you have learnt the truth, you must needs act rightly.

But, indeed, I do not conform to the will of nature.

Who, then, shall interpret that?

They say, Chrysippus. I go and inquire what this interpreter of nature says. Soon I cannot understand his meaning; I seek one to interpret that. I call on him to explain everything as clearly as if it were in Latin. Yet what right has this last interpreter to boast? Nor has Chrysippus himself, so long as he only interprets the will of nature, and does not follow it; and much less has his interpreter. For we have no need of Chrysippus on his own account; but that, by his means, we may apprehend the will of nature; just as no one values a diviner on his own account, but that, by his assistance, men hope to understand future events and heavenly indications; nor the auguries, on their own account, but on account of what is signified by them; neither is it the raven, or the crow, that is admired, but the divine purposes displayed through their means. Thus I come to the diviner and interpreter of these higher things, and say, Inspect the auguries for me: what is signified for me? Having taken, and inspected them, he thus interprets them: You have a free will, O man! incapable of being restrained or compelled. This is written here in the auguries. I will show you this, first, in the faculty of assent. Can any one restrain you from assenting to truth? No one. Can any one compel you to admit a falsehood? No one. You see, then, that you have here a free will, incapable of being restrained, or compelled, or hindered. Well, is it otherwise with regard to pursuit and desire? What can displace one pursuit. Another pursuit. What [can displace] desire and aversion? Another desire and another aversion. If you offer death as an alternative, say you, you compel me. No, not the alternative does it, but your conviction that it is better to do such a thing than to die. Here, again, you see that it is your own conviction which compels you,—that is, choice compels choice; for if God had constituted that portion which he has separated from his own essence, and given to us, capable of being restrained or compelled, either by himself, or by any other, he would not have been God, nor have fitly cared for us.

These things, says the diviner, I find in the auguries. These things are announced to you. If you please, you are free. If you please, you will have no one to complain of, no one to accuse. All will be equally according to your own mind, and to the mind of God.

For the sake of this oracle, I go to this diviner and philosopher; admiring not alone him for his interpretation, but also the things which he interprets.

That we ought not to be angry with the erring.

If what the philosophers say be true, that all men’s actions proceed from one source; that as they assent from a persuasion that a thing is so, and dissent from a persuasion that it is not, and suspend their judgment from a persuasion that it is uncertain; so, likewise, they seek a thing from a persuasion that it is for their advantage,—and it is impossible to esteem one thing advantageous, and yet desire another; to esteem one thing a duty, and yet pursue another, why, after all, should we be angry at the multitude?

They are thieves and robbers.

What do you mean by thieves and robbers? They are in an error concerning good and evil. Ought you, then, to be angry, or rather to pity them? Do but show them their error, and you will see that they will amend their faults; but if they do not see the error, they will rise no higher than their convictions.

What, then; ought not this thief and this adulterer to be destroyed?

Nay, call him rather one who errs and is deceived in things of the greatest importance; blinded, not in the vision, that distinguishes white from black, but in the reason, that discerns good from evil. By stating your question thus, you would see how inhuman it is, and just as if you should say, Ought not this blind or that deaf man to be destroyed? For, if the greatest hurt be a deprivation of the most valuable things, and the most valuable thing to every one be rectitude of will; when any one is deprived of this, why, after all, are you angry? You ought not to be affected, O man! contrary to nature, by the evil deeds of another. Pity him rather. Yield not to hatred and anger; nor say, as many do, What! shall these execrable and odious wretches dare to act thus? Whence have you so suddenly learnt wisdom?

Why are we thus enraged? Because we make idols of those things which such people take from us. Make not an idol of your clothes, and you will not be enraged with the thief. Make not an idol of a woman’s beauty, and you will not be enraged with an adulterer. Know, that thief and adulterer cannot reach the things that are properly your own; but those only which belong to others, and are not within your power. If you can give up these things, and look upon them as not essential, with whom will you any longer be enraged? But while you idolize them, be angry with yourself, rather than with others. Consider the case: you have a fine suit of clothes, your neighbor has not. You have a casement; you want to air them. He knows not in what the good of man consists, but imagines it is in a fine suit of clothes, just as you imagine. Shall he not come and take them away? When you show a cake to greedy people, and are devouring it all yourself, would you not have them snatch it from you? Do not tempt them. Do not have a casement. Do not expose your clothes. I, too, the other day, had an iron lamp burning before my household deities. Hearing a noise at the window, I ran. I found my lamp was stolen. I considered that he who took it away did nothing unaccountable. What then? I said, to-morrow you shall find an earthen one, for a man loses only what he has. I have lost my coat. Ay, because you had a coat. I have a pain in my head. You certainly can have none in your horns. Why, then, are you out of humor? For loss and pain can be only of such things as are possessed.

But the tyrant will chain—what? A leg. He will take away—what? A head. What is there, then, chat he .can neither chain nor take away? The free will. Hence the advice of the ancients,—Know thyself.

What, then, ought we to do?

Practise yourself, for Heaven’s sake, in little things, and thence proceed to greater. I have a pain in my head. Do not lament. I have a pain in my ear. Do not lament. I do not say you may never groan, but do not groan in spirit; or if your servant be a long while in bringing you something to bind your head, do not croak and go into hysterics, and say, ( Everybody hates me. For who would not hate such a one?

Relying for the future on these principles, walk erect and free, not trusting to bulk of body, like a wrestler; for one should not be unconquerable in the sense that an ass is.

Who, then, is unconquerable? He whom the inevitable cannot overcome. For such a person I imagine every trial, and watch him as an athlete in each. He has been victorious in the first encounter. What will he do in the second? What, if he should be exhausted by the heat? What, if the field be Olympia ? And so in other trials. If you throw money in his way, he will despise it. Is he proof against the seductions of women? What if he be tested by fame. by calumny, by praise, by death? He is able to overcome them all. If he can bear sunshine and storm, discouragement and fatigue, I pronounce him an athlete unconquered indeed.

Of the right treatment of tyrants.

When a person is possessed of some personal advantage, either real or imaginary, he will necessarily be puffed up with it, unless he has been well instructed. A tyrant openly says, am supreme over all. And what can you bestow on me? Can you exempt my desires from disappointment? How should you? For do you never incur what you shun? Are your own aims infallible? Whence came you by that privilege? Pray, on shipboard, do you trust to yourself, or to the pilot In a chariot, to whom but the driver? And to whom in all other arts? Just the same. In what, then, does your power consist?

All men pay regard to me.

So do I to my desk. I wash it and wipe it, and drive a nail for my oil-flask.

What, then; are these things to be valued beyond me?

No; but they are of some use to me, and therefore I pay regard to them. Why, do I not pay regard to an ass? Do I not wash his feet? Do I not clean him? Do not you know that every one pays such regard even to himself; and that he does it to you, just as he does to an ass? For who pays regard to you as a man? Show that. Who would wish to be like you? Who would desire to imitate you, as he would Socrates?

But I can take off your head.

You say rightly. I had forgot that one is to pay regard to you as to a fever, or the cholera; and that there should be an altar erected to you, as there is to the goddess Fever at Rome .

What is it, then, that disturbs and terrifies the multitude,—the tyrant and his guards? By no means. What is by nature free cannot be disturbed or restrained by anything but itself; but its own convictions disturb it. Thus, when the tyrant says to any one, will chain your leg, he who chiefly values his leg cries out for pity; while he who chiefly values his own free will says, If you imagine it for your interest, chain it.

What! do you not care? No, I do not care. I will show you that I am master.

You? How should you? Zeus has set me free. What! do you think he would suffer his own son to be enslaved? You are master of my carcass; take it.

So that, when you come into my presence, you pay no regard to me?

No, but to myself; or, if you will have me recognize you also, I will do it as if you were a piece o; furniture. This is not selfish vanity; for every animal is so constituted as to do everything for itself. Even the sun does all for himself, and for that matter so does even Zeus himself; but when he would be styled the dispenser of rain and plenty, and the father of gods and men, you see that he cannot attain these offices and titles unless he contributes to the common good. And he has universally so constituted the nature of every reasonable creature, that no one can attain its own good without contributing something for the good of all. And thus it becomes not selfish to do everything for one’s self; for do you expect that a man should desert himself and his own concerns, when all beings have one and the same original instinct, self-preservation? What follows then? That where we recognize those absurd convictions, which treat things outward as if they were the true good or evil of life, there must necessarily be a regard paid to tyrants; and I wish it were to tyrants only, and not to the very officers of their bed-chamber too. For how wise a man grows on a sudden, when Caesar has made him his flunkey? How immediately we say, Felicio talked very sensibly to me! I wish he were turned out of office, that he might once more appear to you the fool he is.

Epaphroditus owned a shoemaker, whom, because he was good for nothing, he sold. This very fellow being, by some strange luck, bought by a courtier, became shoemaker to Caesar. Then, you might have seen how Epaphroditus honored him. How is good Felicio, pray? And, if any one of us asked what the great man himself was about, it was answered, He is consulting about affairs with Felicio. Did he not sell him previously as good for nothing? Who, then, has all on a sudden made a wise man of him? This it is to reverence externals.

Is any one exalted to the office of tribune? All who meet him congratulate him. One kisses his eyes, another his neck, and the slaves his hands. He goes to his house; finds it illuminated. He ascends the capitol; offers a sacrifice. Now, who ever offered a sacrifice for having good desires; for conforming his aims to nature? Yet we thank the gods for that wherein we place our good.

A person was talking with me to-day about applying for the priesthood in the temple of Augustus. I said to him, Let the thing alone, friend; you will be at great expense for nothing. But my name, said he, will be written in the annals. Will you stand by, then, and tell those who read them, am the person whose name is written there? And even if you could tell every one so now, what will you do when you are dead? My name will remain. Write it upon a stone, and it will remain just as well. And, pray, what remembrance will there be of you out of Nicopolis ? But I shall wear a crown of gold. If your heart is quite set upon a crown, make and put on one of roses; for it will make the prettier appearance.

In what manner reason contemplates itself.

Every art, and every faculty, contemplates certain things as its principal objects. Whenever, therefore, it is of the same nature with the objects of its contemplation, it necessarily contemplates itself too; but where it is of a different nature, it cannot contemplate itself. The art of shoemaking, for instance, is exercised upon leather, but is itself entirely distinct from the materials it works upon; therefore it does not contemplate itself. Again, grammar is exercised on articulate speech. Is the art of grammar itself, then, articulate speech? By no means. Therefore, it cannot contemplate itself. To what purpose, then, is reason appointed by nature? To a proper use of the phenomena of existence. And what is reason? The art of systematizing these phenomena. Thus, by its nature, it becomes contemplative of itself too.

Again, what subjects of contemplation belong to prudence? Good and evil, and that which is indifferent. What, then, is prudence itself? Good. What imprudence? Evil.

You see, then, that it necessarily contemplates both itself and its contrary. Therefore, the first and greatest work of a philosopher is to try to distinguish the phenomena of existence, and to admit none untried. Even in money, where our interest seems to be concerned, you see what an art we have invented, and how many ways an assayer uses to try its value,—by the sight, the touch, the smell, and, lastly, the hearing. He throws the piece down, and attends to the jingle; and is not contented with its jingling only once, but, by frequent attention to it, trains his ear for sound. So, when we think it of consequence whether we are deceived or not, we use the utmost attention to discern those things which may deceive us. But, yawning and slumbering over our poor neglected reason, we are imposed upon by every appearance, nor know the mischief done. Would you know, then, how very languidly you are affected by good and evil, and how vehemently by things indifferent, consider how you feel with regard to bodily blindness, and how with regard to being deceived; and you will find that you are far from being moved, as you ought, in relation to good and evil.

But trained powers and much labor and learning are here needed.

What then? Do you expect the greatest of arts to be acquired by slight endeavors? And yet the principal doctrine of the philosophers is in itself short. If you have a mind to know it, read Zeno, and you will see. It is not a long story to say, Our end is to serve the gods, and The essence of good consists in the proper use of the phenomena of existence. If you say, what then is God; what are phenomena; what is particular, what universal nature,—here the long story comes in. And so, if Epicurus should come and say that good lies in the body, here, too, it will be a long story; and it will be necessary to hear what is the principal, and substantial, and essential part in us. It is unlikely that the good of a snail should be placed in the shell; and is it likely that the good of a man should? You yourself, Epicurus, have in you something superior to this. What is that in you which deliberates, which examines, which recognizes the body as the principal part? Why light your lamp, and labor for us, and write so many books? That we may not be ignorant of the truth? But what are we? What are we to you? Thus the doctrine becomes a long story.

Of the desire of admiration.

When one maintains his proper attitude in life, he does not long after externals. What would you have, O man?

I am contented, if my desires and aversions are conformable to nature; if I seek and shun that which I ought, and thus regulate my purposes, my efforts, and my opinions.

Why, then, do you walk as if you had swallowed a spit?

Because I could wish moreover to have all who meet me admire me, and all who follow me cry out, What a great philosopher!

Who are those by whom you would be admired? Are they not the very people who you used to say were mad? What, then, would you be admired by madmen?

Of general principles.

The same general principles are common to all men, nor does one such principle contradict another; for which of us does not admit that good is advantageous and eligible, and in all cases to be pursued and followed? Who does not admit that justice is fair and becoming? Where, then, arises the dispute? In adapting these principles to particular cases; as when one cries, Such a person has acted well,—he is a gallant man; and another, No, he has acted like a fool. Hence arise disputes among men. This is the dispute between Jews and Syrians and Egyptians and Romans,—not whether the right be preferable to all things, and in every instance to be sought; but whether the eating swine’s flesh be consistent with right, or not. This, too, you will find to have been the dispute between Achilles and Agamemnon; for call them forth. What say you, Agamemnon,—ought not that to be done which is fit and right? Yes, surely. Achilles, what say you,—is it not agreeable to you, that what is right should be done? Yes; I desire it beyond everything. Apply your principles then. Here begins the dispute. One says, It is not fit that I should restore Chryseis to her father. The other says, Yes; but it is. One or the other of them, certainly, makes a wrong conception of the principle of fitness. Again, the one says, If it be fit that I should give up Chryseis, it is fit, too, that I should take some of your prizes. The other answers, What, that you should take my mistress? Ay; yours. What, mine only? Must I only, then, lose my prize?

What, then, is it to be properly educated? To learn how to apply the principles of natural right to particular cases, and, for the rest, to distinguish that some things are in our power, while others are not. In our own power are the will, and all voluntary actions; out of our power, the body and its parts, property, parents, brothers, children, country, and, in short, all our fellow-beings. Where, then, shall we place good? In what shall we define it to consist? In things within our own power. But are not health and strength and life good? And are not children, parents, country? You talk unreasonably.

Let us, then, try another point of view. Can he who suffers evil, and is disappointed of good, be happy? He cannot. And can he preserve a right behavior with regard to society? How is it possible that he should? I am naturally led to seek my own highest good. If, therefore, it is my highest good to have an estate, it is for my good likewise to take it away from my neighbor. If it is my highest good to have a suit of clothes, it is for my good likewise to steal it wherever I find it. Hence wars, seditions, tyranny, unjust invasions. How shall I, if this be the case, be able any longer to do my duty towards Zeus? If I suffer evil, and am disappointed, he takes no care of me. And what is he to me if he cannot help me; or. again, what is he to me if he chooses I should be in the condition that I am? Then I begin to hate him. What, then, do we build temples, do we raise statues, to Zeus. as to evil demons, as to the goddess Fever? How, then, is he the preserver, and how the dispenser of rain and plenty? If we place the essence of good on any such ground, all this will follow. What, then, shall we do?

This is the inquiry which interests him who philosophizes in earnest, and to some result. Do I not now see what is good, and what is evil, or am I mad? Suppose I place good only in things dependent on my own will? Why, every one will laugh at me. Some gray-headed old fellow will come, with his fingers covered with gold rings, and will shake his head, and say, Hark ye, child, it is fit you should learn philosophy; but it is fit, too, you should have common-sense. All this is nonsense. You learn syllogisms from philosophers; but how you are to act, you know better than they. Then what displeases you if I do know? What can I say to this unfortunate? If I make no answer, he will burst; so I must answer thus: Bear with me, as with lovers. Granted; I am not myself. I have lost my senses.

Against Epicurus.

Even Epicurus is sensible that we are by nature sociable beings; but having once placed our good in the mere outward shell, he can say nothing afterwards inconsistent with that; for again, he strenuously maintains that we ought not to admire or accept anything separated from the nature of good, and he is in the right to maintain it. But how, then, arise any affectionate anxieties, unless there be such a thing as natural affection towards our offspring? Then why do you, Epicurus, dissuade a wise man from bringing up children? Why are you afraid that upon their account he may fall into anxieties? Does he fall into any for a mouse, that feeds within his house? What is it to him, if a little mouse bewails itself there? But Epicurus knew that, if once a child is born, it is no longer in our power not to love and be solicitous for it. On the same grounds he says that a wise man will not engage himself in public business, knowing very well what must follow. If men are only so many flies, why should he not engage in it?

And does he, who knows all this, dare to forbid us to bring up children? Not even a sheep, or a wolf, deserts its offspring; and shall man? What would you have, that we should be as silly as sheep? Yet even these do not desert their offspring. Or as savage as wolves? Neither do these desert them. Pray, who would mind you, if he saw his child fallen upon the ground and crying? For my part, I am of opinion that your father and another, even if they could have foreseen that you would have been the author of such doctrines, would not have thrown you away.

How we ought to struggle with difficulties.

Difficulties are things that show what men are. For the future, in case of any difficulty, remember that God, like a gymnastic trainer, has pitted you against a rough antagonist. For what end? That you may be an Olympic conqueror; and this cannot be without toil. No man, in my opinion, has a more profitable difficulty on his hands than you have, provided you will but use it, as an athletic champion uses his antagonist.

Suppose we were to send you as a scout to Rome . But no one ever sends a timorous scout, who, when he only hears a noise, or sees a shadow, runs back frightened, and says, The enemy is at hand. So now, if you should come and tell us, Things are in a fearful way at Rome ; death is terrible, banishment terrible, calumny terrible, poverty terrible; run, good people, the enemy is at hand; we will answer, Get you gone, and prophesy for yourself; our only fault is that we have sent such a scout. Diogenes was sent as a scout before you, but he told us other tidings. He says that death is no evil, for it is nothing base; that calumny is only the noise of madmen. And what account did this spy give us of pain, of pleasure, of poverty? He says that to be naked is better than a purple robe; to sleep upon the bare ground, the softest bed; and gives a proof of all he says by his own courage, tranquillity, and freedom, and, moreover, by a healthy and robust body. There is no enemy near, he says; all is profound peace. How so, Diogenes? Look upon me, he says. Am I hurt? Am I wounded? Have I run away from any one? This is a scout worth having. But you come, and tell us one tale after another. Go back and look more carefully, and without fear.

What shall I do, then?

What do you do when you land from a ship? Do you take away with you the rudder, or the oars? What do you take, then? Your own, your bundle and your flask. So, in the present case, if you will but remember what is your own, you will not covet what belongs to others. If some tyrant bids you put off your consular robe,— Well, I am in my equestrian robe. Put off that too. I have only my coat. Put off that too. Well, I am naked. I am not yet satisfied. Then e’en take my whole body. If I can throw off a paltry body, am I any longer afraid of a tyrant?

But such a one will not leave me his heir. What, then, have I forgotten, that such possessions are never really mine? How, then, do we call them ours? It is as with a bed in an inn. If the landlord, when he dies. leaves you the bed. well and good; but if to another, it will be his, and you will seek one elsewhere; and consequently, if you do not find one, you will sleep upon the ground; only sleep fearlessly and profoundly, and remember that tragedies find their theme among the rich and kings and tyrants. No poor man fills any other place in one than as part of the chorus; whereas, kings begin indeed with prosperity: Crown the palace; but continue about the third and fourth act: Alas, Citheron! why didst thou receive me!¹⁹ Where are thy crowns, wretch; where is thy diadem? Cannot thy guards help thee?

Whenever you are brought into any such society, think then that you meet a tragic actor, or, rather, not an actor, but Oedipus himself. But such a one is happy; he walks with a numerous train. Well, I too walk with a numerous train.

But remember the principal thing,—that the door is open. Do not be more fearful than children; but as they, when the play dues not please them, say, will play no longer, so do you, in the same case, say, will play no longer, and go; but, if you stay, do not complain.

On the same subject.

If these things are true; and if we are not stupid or insincere when we say that the good or ill of man lies within his own will, and that all beside is nothing to us, why are we still troubled? Why do we still fear? What truly concerns us is in no one’s power; what is in the power of others concerns not us. What embarrassment have we left?

But you must direct me.

Why should I direct you? Has not Zeus directed you? Has he not given you what is your own. incapable of restraint or hindrance; and what is not your own, liable to both? What directions, then, what orders, have you brought from him? By all means guard what is your own; what belongs to others do not covet. Honesty is your own; a sense of virtuous shame is your own. Who, then, can deprive you of these? Who can restrain you from making use of them, but yourself? And how do you do it? When you make that your concern which is not truly your own, you lose that which is. Having such precepts and directions from Zeus, what sort do you still want from me? Am I better than He, or more worthy of credit? If you observe these precepts, what others do you need? Are not these His? Apply the. recognized principles; apply the demonstrations of philosophers; apply what you have often heard, and what you have said yourself; what you have read, and what you have carefully studied.

How long is it right to devote one’s self to these things and not break up the game?

As long as it goes on well. A king is chosen at the Saturnalian Festival, supposing it to be agreed to play at that game; he orders: Do you drink; you mix the wine; you sing: you go; you come. I obey, that the game may not be broken up by my fault.

[Then he orders] bid you think yourself to be unhappy. I do not think so; and who shall compel me to think so?

Again, suppose we agree to play Agamemnon and Achilles. He who is appointed for Agamemnon says to me, Go to Achilles, and force away Briseis. I go. Come. I come. We should deal with life as with these imaginary orders.

Suppose it to be night. Well, suppose it. Is it day then? No; for I admitted the hypothesis, that it was night. Suppose that you think it to be night. Well, suppose it. But you must really think that it is night. That by no means follows from the hypothesis. Thus it is in the case illustrated. Suppose you have ill luck? Suppose it. Are you then unlucky? Yes. Are you thoroughly unfortunate? Yes. Well; but you must really regard yourself as miserable. But this is no part of the assumption, and there is a power who forbids me [to admit that].

How far, then, are we to carry such analogies? As far as is useful; that is, till we go farther than is reasonable and fit.

Moreover, some are peevish and fastidious, and say, I cannot dine with such a fellow, to be obliged to hear him all day recounting how he fought in Mysia . I told you, my friend, how I gained the eminence. There I begin to suffer another siege. But another says, had rather get a dinner, and hear him prate as much as he pleases.

Do you decide between these opinions; but do not let it be with depression and anxiety, and the assumption that you are miserable, for no one compels you to that. Is there smoke in my house? If it be moderate, I will stay; if very great, I will go out. For you must always remember, and hold to this, that the door is open. You are forbidden to live at Nicopolis . Then I will not live there. Nor at Athens . Well, nor at Athens . Nor at Rome . Nor at Rome . But you shall live at Gyaros.²⁰ I will live there. But suppose that living at Gyaros seems to me like living in a great smoke. I can then retire where no one can forbid me to live, for it is an abode open to all, and put off my last garment, this poor body of mine; beyond this, no one has any power over me.

Thus Demetrius said to Nero: You sentence me to death; and Nature you. If I prize my body first, I have surrendered myself as a slave; if my estate, the same; for I at once betray where I am vulnerable. Just as when a reptile pulls in his head, I bid you strike that part of him which he guards; and be you assured, that wherever you show a desire to guard yourself. there your master will attack you. Remember but this, and whom will you any longer flatter or fear?

But I want to sit where the senators do.

Do not you see, that by this you incommode and torment yourself?

Why, how else shall I see the show in the Amphitheatre advantageously?

Do not insist on seeing it, O man! and you will not be incommoded. Why do you vex yourself? Or wait a little while; and when the show is over, go sit in the senators’ places and sun yourself. For remember, that this holds universally,—we incommode and torment ourselves; that is, our own preconceived notions do it for us. What is it to be reviled, for instance? Stand by a stone and revile it, and what will you get by it? If you, therefore, would listen only as a stone, what would your reviler gain? But if the reviler has the weakness of the reviled for a vantage-ground, then he carries his point.

Strip him [bids the tyrant]. What mean you by him? Take my clothes, strip them, at your pleasure. I meant only to insult you. Much good may it do you.

These things were the study of Socrates; and by these means he always preserved the same countenance. Yet we had rather exercise and study anything, than how to become unrestrained and free. But the philosophers talk paradoxes. And are there not paradoxes in other arts? What is more paradoxical than to prick any one’s eye, that he may see? Should one tell this to one ignorant of surgery, would not he laugh at him? What wonder then, if in philosophy also many truths appear paradoxes to the ignorant?

What the rule of life is.

S some one was reading hypothetical propositions, Epictetus remarked that it was a rule in these to admit whatever was in accordance with the hypothesis, but much more a rule in life to do what was in accordance with nature. For, if we desire in every matter and on every occasion to conform to nature, we must on every occasion evidently make it our aim, neither to omit anything thus conformabley nor to admit anything inconsistent. Philosophers, therefore, first exercise us in theory, which is the more easy task, and then lead us to the more difficult; for in theory there is nothing to hinder our following what we are taught, but in life there are many things to draw us aside. It is ridiculous, then, to say we must begin with these applications, for it is not easy to begin with the most difficult; and this excuse children should make to those parents who dislike that they should study philosophy. Am I to blame then, sir, and ignorant of my duty, and of what is incumbent on me? If this is neither to be learned, nor taught, why do you find fault with me? If it is to be taught, pray teach me yourself; or, if you cannot, let me learn it from those who profess to understand it. For what think you; that I voluntarily fall into evil, and miss good? Heaven forbid! What, then, is the cause of my faults? Ignorance. Are you not willing, then, that I should get rid of my ignorance? Who was ever taught the art of music, or navigation, by anger? Do you expect, then, that your anger should teach me the art of living?

This, however, can properly be said only by one who is really in earnest. But he who reads these things, and applies to the philosophers, merely for the sake of showing, at some entertainment, that he understands hypothetical reasonings, what aim has he but to be admired by some senator, who happens to sit near him? ²¹ Great possessions may be won by such aims as that, but what we hold as wealth passes there for folly. It is hard, therefore, to overcome by appearances, where vain things thus pass for great.

I once saw a person weeping and embracing the Knees of Epaphroditus, and deploring his hard fortune, that he had not more than 150,000 drachmae left. What said Epaphroditus then? Did he laugh at him, as we should do? No; but cried out with astonishment: Poor man! How could you be silent under it? How could you bear it?

The first step, therefore, towards becoming a philosopher is to be sensible in what state the ruling faculty of the mind is; for on knowing it to be weak, no person will immediately employ it in great attempts. But, for want of this, some who can scarce digest a crumb will yet buy and swallow whole treatises; and so they throw them up again, or cannot digest them; and then come colics, fluxes, and fevers. Such persons ought to consider what they can bear. Indeed, it is easy to convince an ignorant person, so far as concerns theory; but in matters relating to life, no one offers himself to conviction, and we hate those who have convinced us. Socrates used to say, that we ought not to live a life unexamined.²²

Of the varied appearances of things to the mind, and what means are at hand by which to regulate them.

Appearances to the mind are of four kinds.

Things either are what they appear to be; or they neither are, nor appear to be; or they are, and do not appear to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Rightly to aim, in all these cases, is the wise man’s task. Whatever unduly constrains us, to that a remedy must be applied. If the sophistries of Pyrrhonism, or the Academy, constrain us, the remedy must be applied there; if specious appearances, by which things seem to be good which are not so, let us seek for a remedy there. If it be custom which constrains us, we must endeavor to find a remedy against that.

What remedy is to be found against custom?

Establish a contrary custom. You hear the vulgar say, Such a one, poor soul! is dead. Well, his father died; his mother died. Ay, but he was cut off in the flower of his age, and in a foreign land. Observe these contrary ways of speaking; and abandon such expressions. Oppose to one custom a contrary custom; to sophistry the art of reasoning, and the frequent use and exercise of it. Against specious appearances we must set clear convictions, bright and ready for use. When death appears as an evil, we ought immediately to remember that evils are things to be avoided, but death is inevitable. For what can I do, or where can I fly from it? Let me suppose myself to be Sarpedon, the son of Jove, that I may speak as nobly. I go either to excel, or to give another the occasion to excel.²³ If I can achieve nothing myself, I will not grudge another his achievement.

But suppose this to be a strain too high for us; do not these following thoughts befit us? Whither shall I fly from death? Show me the place, show me the people, to whom I may have recourse, whom death does not overtake. Show me the charm to avoid it. If there be none, what would you have me do? I cannot escape death; but cannot I escape the dread of it? Must I die trembling and lamenting? For the very origin of the disease lies in wishing for something that is not obtained. Under the influence of this, if I can make outward things conform to my own inclination, I do it; if not, I feel inclined to tear out the eyes of whoever hinders me. For it is the nature of man not to endure the being deprived of good; not to endure the falling into evil. And so, at last, when I can neither control events, nor tear out the eyes of him who hinders me, I sit down, and groan, and revile him whom I can,—Zeus, and the rest of the gods; for what are they to me, if they take no care of me?

Oh! but then you will be impious.

What then? Can I be in a worse condition than I am now? In general, remember this, that unless we make our religion and our treasure to consist in the same thing, religion will always be sacrificed.

Have these things no weight? Let a Pyrrhonist, or an Academic, come and oppose them. For my part, I have neither leisure nor ability to stand up as an advocate for common-sense. Even if the business were concerning an estate, I should call in another advocate. To what advocate, then, shall I now appeal? I will leave it to any one who may be upon the spot. Thus, I may not be able to explain how sensation takes place, whether it be diffused universally, or reside in a particular part; for I find perplexities in either case; but that you and I are not the same person, I very exactly know.

How so?

Why, I never, when I have a mind to swallow anything, carry it to your mouth, but my own. I never, when I wanted bread, seized a broom instead, but went directly to the bread as I needed it. You who deny all evidence of the senses, do you act otherwise? Which of you, when he wished to go into a bath, ever went into a mill?

Why, then, must not we, to the utmost, defend these points; stand by common-sense; be fortified against everything that opposes it?

Who denies that? But it must be done by him who has ability and leisure to spare; but he who is full of trembling and perturbation and inward disorders of heart must first employ his time about something else.

That we ought not to be angry with mankind. What things are little, what great, among men.

What is the basis of assent to anything? Its appearing to be true. It is not possible, therefore, to assent to what appears to be not true. Why? Because it is the very nature of the understanding to agree to truth, to be dissatisfied with falsehood, and to suspend its belief in doubtful cases.

What is the proof of this?

Persuade yourself, if you can, that it is now night. Impossible. Dissuade yourself from the belief that it

1 This seems to be said by one of the hearers, who wanted to have the absurdities of the sceptics confuted and guarded against by regular argument. Epictetus allows this to be right, for such as have abilities and leisure; but recommends in others the more necessary task of curing their own moral disorders, and insinuates that the mere common occurences of life are sufficient to overthrow the notions of the Pyrrhonists.—C. is day. Impossible. Persuade yourself that the number of the stars is even or odd. Impossible.

When any one, then, assents to what is false, be assured that he does not wilfully assent to it as false,—for, as Plato affirms, the soul is unwillingly deprived of truth,²⁴—but what is false appears to him to be true. Well, then; have we, in actions, anything correspondent to this distinction between true and false? There are right and wrong; advantageous and disadvantageous; desirable and undesirable, and the like.

A person, then, cannot think a thing truly advantageous to him, and not choose it?

He cannot. But how says Medea?—

I know what evils wait upon my purpose;

But wrath is stronger than this will of mine.

Euripides, Medea, 1087.—H.

Was it that she thought the very indulgence of her rage, and the punishing her husband, more advantageous than the preservation of her children? Yes; but she is deceived. Show clearly to her that she is deceived, and she will forbear; but, till you have shown it, what has she to follow but what appears to herself? Nothing.

Why, then, are you angry with her, that the unhappy woman is deceived in the most important points, and instead of a human creature, becomes a viper? Why do you not rather, as we pity the blind and lame, so likewise pity those who are blinded .and lamed in their superior faculties? Whoever, therefore, duly remembers, that the appearance of things to the mind is the standard of every action to man,—that this is either right or wrong, and if right, he is without fault; if wrong, he himself suffers punishment; for that one man cannot be the person deceived, and another the only sufferer,—such a person will not be outrageous and angry at any one; will not revile, or reproach, or hate, or quarrel with any one.

So, then, have all the great and dreadful deeds that have been done in the world no other origin than semblances?

Absolutely no other. The Iliad consists of nothing but such semblances and their results. It seemed to Paris that he should carry off the wife of Menelaus. It seemed to Helen that she should follow him. If, then, it had seemed to Menelaus that it was an advantage to be robbed of such a wife, what could have happened? Not only the Iliad had been lost, but the Odyssey too.

Do such great events, then, depend on so small a cause?

What events, then, call you great?

Wars and seditions, the destruction of numbers of men, and the overthrow of cities.

And what in all this is great? Nothing. What is great in the death of numbers of oxen, numbers of sheep, or in the burning or pulling down numbers of nests of storks or swallows?

Are these things then similar?

They are. The bodies of men are destroyed, and the bodies of sheep and oxen. The houses of men are burnt, and the nests of storks. What is there so great or fearful in all this? Pray, show me what difference there is between the house of a man and the nest of a stork, considered as a habitation, except that houses are built with beams and tiles and bricks, and nests with sticks and clay?

What, then; are a stork and a man similar? What do you mean?

Similar in body.

Is there no difference, then, between a man and a stork?

Yes, surely; but not in these things. In what, then?

Inquire; and you will find, that the difference lies in something else. See whether it be not in rationality of action, in social instincts, fidelity, honor, providence, judgment.

Where, then, is the real good or evil of man?

Just where this difference lies. If this distinguishing trait is preserved, and remains well fortified, and neither honor, fidelity, nor judgment is destroyed, then he himself is likewise saved; but when any one of these is lost or demolished, he himself is lost also. In this do all great events consist. Paris, they say, was undone, because the Greeks invaded Troy , and laid it waste, and his family were slain in battle. By no means; for no one is undone by an action not his own. All that was only like laying waste the nests of storks. But his true undoing was when he lost modesty, faith, honor, virtue. When was Achilles undone,—when Patroclus died? By no means. But when he gave himself up to rage; when he wept over a girl; when he forgot that he came there, not to win mistresses, but to fight. This is human undoing; this is the siege, this the overthrow, when right principles are ruined and destroyed.

But when wives and children are led away captives, and the men themselves killed, are not these evils?

Whence do you conclude them such? Pray inform me, in my turn.

Nay; but whence do you affirm that they are not evils?

Recur to the rules. Apply your principles. One cannot sufficiently wonder at what happens among men. When we would judge of light and heavy, we do not judge by guess, nor when we judge of straight and crooked; and, in general, when it concerns us to know the truth on any special point, no one of us will do anything by guess. But where the first and principal source of right or wrong action is concerned, of being prosperous or unprosperous, happy or unhappy,—there only do we act rashly, and by guess. Nowhere anything like a balance; nowhere anything like a rule; but something seems thus or so to me, and I at once act accordingly. For am I better than Agamemnon or Achilles; that they, by following what seemed best to them, should do and suffer so many things, and yet that seeming should not suffice me? And what tragedy hath any other origin? The Atreus of Euripides, what is it? Seeming. The Oedipus of Sophocles? Seeming. The Phoenix? The Hippolytus? All seeming. Who then, think you, can escape this influence? What are they called who follow every seeming? Madmen. Yet do we, then, behave otherwise?

Of courage.

The essence of good and evil is a certain disposition of the will.

What are things outward, then?

Materials on which the will may act, in attaining its own good or evil.

How, then, will it attain good?

If it be not dazzled by its own materials; for right principles concerning these materials keep the will in a good state; but perverse and distorted principles, in a bad one. This law hath God ordained, who says, If you wish for good, receive it from yourself. You say, No; but from another. Nay; but from yourself.

Accordingly, when a tyrant threatens, and sends for me, I say, Against what is your threatening pointed? If he says, will chain you, I answer, It is my hands and feet that you threaten. If he says, will cut off your head, I answer, It is my head that you threaten. If he says, will throw you into prison, I answer, It is the whole of this paltry body that you threaten; and if he threatens banishment, just the same.

Does he not threaten you, then?

If I am persuaded that these things are nothing to me, he does not; but if I fear any of them, it is me that he threatens. Who is it, after all, that I fear? The master of what? Of things in my own power? Of these no one is the master. Of things not in my power? And what are these to me?

What, then! do you philosophers teach us a contempt of kings?

By no means. Which of us teaches any one to contend with them about things of which they have the command? Take my body; take my possessions; take my reputation; take away even my friends. If I persuade any one to claim these things as his own, you may justly accuse me. Ay; but I would command your principles too. And who hath given you that power? How can you conquer the principle of another? By applying terror, I will conquer it. Do not you see that what conquers itself .is not conquered by another? And nothing but itself can conquer the will. Hence, too, the most excellent and equitable law of God, that the better should always prevail over the worse. Ten are better than one.

For what purpose?

For chaining, killing, dragging where they please; for taking away an estate. Thus ten conquer one, in the cases wherein they are better.

In what, then, are they worse?

When the one has right principles, and the others have not. For can they conquer in this case? How should they? If we were weighed in a scale, must not the heavier outweigh?

How then came Socrates to suffer such things from the Athenians?

O foolish man! what mean you by Socrates? Express the fact as it is. Are you surprised that the mere body of Socrates should be carried away, and dragged to prison, by such as were stronger; that it should be poisoned by hemlock and die? Do these things appear wonderful to you; these things unjust? Is it for such things as these that you accuse God? Had Socrates, then, no compensation for them? In what, then, to him, did the essence of good consist? Whom shall we regard, you or him? And what says he? Anytus and Melitus may indeed kill; but hurt me they cannot. And again, If it so pleases God, so let it be.

But show me that he who has the worse principles can get the advantage over him who has the better. You never will show it, nor anything like it; for the Law of Nature and of God is this,—let the better always prevail over the worse.

In what?

In that wherein it is better. One body may be stronger than another; many, than one; and a thief, than one who is not a thief. Thus I, for instance, lost my lamp, because the thief was better at keeping awake than I. But for that lamp he paid the price of becoming a thief; for that lamp he lost his virtue and became like a wild beast. This seemed to him a good bargain; and so let it be!

But some one takes me by the collar, and drags me to the forum; and then all the rest cry out, Philosopher, what good do your principles do you? See, you are being dragged to prison; see, you are going to lose your head! And, pray, what rule of philosophy could I contrive, that when a stronger than myself lays hold on my collar, I should not be dragged; or that, when ten men pull me at once, and throw me into prison, I should not be thrown there? But have I learned nothing, then? I have learned to know, whatever happens, that if it concerns not my will, it is nothing to me. Have my principles, then, done me no good? What then; do I seek for anything else to do me good, but what I have learned? Afterwards, as I sit in prison, I say, He who has made all this disturbance neither recognizes any guidance, nor heeds any teaching, nor is it any concern to him to know what philosophers say or do. Let him alone.

Come forth again from prison. If you have no further need for me in prison, I will come out; if you want me again, I will return. For how long? Just so long as reason requires I should continue in this body; when that is over, take it, and fare ye well. Only let us not act inconsiderately, nor from cowardice, nor on slight grounds, since that would be contrary to the will of God; for he hath need of such a world, and such beings to live on earth. But, if he sounds a retreat, as he did to Socrates, we are to obey him when he sounds it, as our General.

Well; but can these things be explained to the multitude?

To what purpose? Is it not sufficient to be convinced one’s self? When children come to us clapping their hands, and saying, To-morrow is the good feast of Saturn; do we tell them that good doth not consist in such things? By no means; but we clap our hands also. Thus, when you are unable to convince any one, consider hint as a child, and clap your hands with him; or, ii you will not do that, at least hold your tongue. These things we ought to remember; and when we are called to any trial, to know that an opportunity is come of showing whether we have been well taught. For he who goes from a philosophical lecture to a difficult point of practice is like a young man who has been studying to solve syllogisms. If you propose an easy one, he says, Give me rather a fine intricate one, that I may try my strength. Thus athletic champions are displeased with a slight antagonist. He cannot lift me, says one. Is this a youth of spirit? No; for when the occasion calls upon him, he may begin crying, and say, wanted to learn a little longer first. Learn what? If you did not learn these things to show them in practice, why did you learn them?

I trust there must be some one among you, sitting here, who feels secret pangs of impatience, and says, When will such a trial come to my share, as hath now fallen to his? Must I sit wasting my life in a corner, when I might be crowned at Olympia ? When will any one bring the news of such a combat for me? Such should be the disposition of you all. Even among the gladiators of Caesar, there are some who bear it very ill that they are not brought upon the stage and matched; and who offer vows to God, and address the officers, begging to fight. And will none among you appear such? I would willingly take a voyage on purpose to see how a champion of mine acts; how he meets his occasion.

This is not the contest I would choose, say you. Is it in your power, then, to make the selection? Such a body is given you, such parents, such brothers, such a country, and such a rank in it; and then you come to me, to change the conditions! Have you not abilities to manage that which is given you You should say to me, It is your business to propose; mine, to treat the subject well. No; but you say, Do not meet me with such a perplexity, but such a one; do not offer such an obstacle to me, but such a one. There will be a time, I suppose, when tragedians will fancy themselves to be mere masks, and buskins, and long train. These things are your materials, man, and your stage-properties. Speak something; that we may know whether you are a tragedian or a buffoon; for both have all the rest in common. Suppose any one should take away his buskins and his mask, and bring him upon the stage in his common dress, is the tragedian lost, or does he remain? If he has a voice, he remains. Here, this instant, take upon you the command. I take it; and taking it, I show how a skilful man performs the part. Now lay aside your robe; put on rags, and come upon the stage in that character. What then? Is it not in my power to express the character by a suitable voice?

In what character do you now appear? As a witness summoned by God. Come you, then, and bear witness for me; for you are a fit witness to be produced by me. Is anything which is inevitable to be classed as either good or evil? Do I hurt any one? Have I made the good of each individual to rest on any one but himself? What evidence do you give for God?

I am in a miserable condition, O Lord; I am undone: no mortal cares for me; no mortal gives me anything; all blame me; all speak ill of me.

Is this the evidence you are to give? And will you bring disgrace upon his summons, who hath conferred such an honor upon you, and thought you worthy of being produced as a witness in such a cause?

But some one in authority has given a sentence. I judge you to be impious and profane. What has befallen you?—I have been judged to be impious and profane.—Anything else?—Nothing.—Suppose he had passed his judgment upon any process of reasoning, and had questioned the conclusion that, if it be day, it is light; what would have befallen the proposition? In this case, who is judged, who is condemned,—the proposition, or he who cannot understand it? Does he know, who claims the power of ruling in your case, what pious or impious means? Has he made it his study or learned it? Where? From whom? A musician would not regard him, if he pronounced bass to be treble; nor a mathematician, if he passed sentence, that lines drawn from the centre to the circumference are not equal. And shall he who is instructed in the truth respect an ignorant man, when he pronounces upon pious and impious, just and unjust?

Oh, the persecutions to which the wise are exposed! Is it here that you have learned this talk? Why do not you leave such pitiful discourse to idle, pitiful fellows; and let them sit in a corner, and receive some little mean pay, or grumble that nobody gives them anything? But do you come, and make some use of what you have learned. It is not reasonings that are wanted now, for there are books stuffed full of stoical reasonings.

What is wanted, then?

The man who shall apply them; whose actions may bear testimony to his doctrines. Assume this character for me, that we may no longer make use in the schools of the examples of the ancients, but may have some examples of our own.

To whom, then, does the contemplation of these abstractions belong?

To any one who has leisure for them; for man is a being fond of contemplation. But it is shameful to take only such view of things as truant slaves take of a play. We ought to sit calmly, and listen, whether to the actor or to the musician; and not do like those poor fellows, who come in and admire the actor, constantly glancing about them, and then, if any one happens to mention their master, run frightened away. It is shameful for a philosopher thus to contemplate the works of nature. What, in this parallel case, stands for the master? Man is not the master of man; but death is, and life, and pleasure, and pain; for without these, bring even Caesar to me, and you will see how intrepid I shall be. But, if he comes thundering and lightening with these, and these are the objects of my terror, what do I else but, like the truant slave, acknowledge my master? While I have any respite from these, as the truant comes into the theatre, so I bathe, drink, sing; but all with terror and anxiety. But if I free myself from my masters, that is, from such things as render a master terrible, what trouble, what master have I remaining?

Shall we then insist upon these things with all men?

No. But make allowance for the ignorant, and say, This poor man. advises me to what he thinks good for himself. I excuse him; for Socrates, too, excused the jailer, who wept when he was to drink the poison, and said, How heartily he sheds tears for us! Was it to him that Socrates said, For this reason we sent the women out of the way? No, but to his friends,—to such as were capable of hearing it; while he humored the other, as a child.

Weapons ready for difficult occasions.

When you are going before any of the great, remember that there is another who sees from above what passes, and whom you ought to please, rather than man. He therefore asks you,—

In the schools, what did you use to call exile, and prison, and chains, and death, and calumny?

I? Indifferent things.

What, then, do you call them now? Are they at all changed?

No.

Are you changed, then? No.

Tell me, then, what things are indifferent. Things not dependent on our own will. What is the inference?

Things not dependent on my own will are nothing to me.

Tell me, likewise, what appeared to be the good of man.

Rectitude of will, and to understand the appearances of things.

What his end?

To follow Thee. Do you say the same things now, too? Yes. I do say the same things, even now.

Well, go in then boldly, and mindful of these things; and you will show the difference between the instructed and the ignorant. I protest, I think you will then have such thoughts as these: Why do we provide so many and great resources for nothing? Is the power, the antechamber, the attendants, the guards, no more than this? Is it for these that I have listened to so many dissertations? These are nothing; and yet I had qualified myself as for some great encounter.

Discourses. Epictetus. Thomas Wentworth Higginson (Translator). New York. 1890.

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Current edition Perseus

The Discourses of Epictetus (English) (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.)

Editions (1)

Ἀρριανοῦ τῶν Ἐπικτήτου Διατριβῶν Perseus (Epictetus. Epicteti dissertationes ab Arriano digestae, editio maior. Schenkl, Heinrich. editor. Leipzig: Teubner, 1916.) — 1.1 focus

περὶ τῶν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν καὶ οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν.

[1] τῶν ἄλλων δυνάμεων οὐδεμίαν εὑρήσετε αὐτὴν αὑτῆς θεωρητικήν, οὐ τοίνυν οὐδὲ δοκιμαστικὴν ἢ ἀποδοκιμαστικήν.

[2] ἡ γραμματικὴ μέχρι τίνος κέκτηται τὸ θεωρητικόν; μέχρι τοῦ διαγνῶναι τὰ γράμματα. ἡ μουσική; μέχρι τοῦ διαγνῶναι τὸ μέλος.

[3] αὐτὴ οὖν αὑτὴν θεωρεῖ τις αὐτῶν; οὐδαμῶς. ἀλλʼ ὅτε μέν, ἄν τι γράφῃς τῷ ἑταίρῳ, δεῖ τούτων τῶν γραπτέων, ἡ γραμματικὴ ἐρεῖ· πότερον δὲ γραπτέον τῷ ἑταίρῳ ἢ οὐ γραπτέον, ἡ γραμματικὴ οὐκ ἐρεῖ. καὶ περὶ τῶν μελῶν ὡσαύτως ἡ μουσική· πότερον δʼ ᾀστέον νῦν καὶ κιθαριστέον ἢ οὔτε ᾀστέον οὔτε κιθαριστέον οὐκ ἐρεῖ.

[4] τίς οὖν ἐρεῖ; ἡ καὶ αὑτὴν θεωροῦσα καὶ τἆλλα πάντα. αὕτη δʼ ἐστὶ τίς; ἡ δύναμις ἡ λογική· μόνη γὰρ αὕτη καὶ αὑτὴν κατανοήσουσα παρείληπται, τίς τέ ἐστι καὶ τί δύναται καὶ πόσου ἀξία οὖσα ἐλήλυθεν, καὶ τὰς ἄλλας ἁπάσας.

[5] τί γάρ ἐστιν ἄλλο τὸ λέγον ὅτι χρυσίον καλόν ἐστιν; αὐτὸ γὰρ οὐ λέγει. δῆλον ὅτι ἡ χρηστικὴ δύναμις ταῖς φαντασίαις.

[6] τί ἄλλο τὸ μουσικήν, γραμματικήν, τὰς ἄλλας δυνάμεις διακρῖνον, δοκιμάζον τὰς χρήσεις αὐτῶν καὶ τοὺς καιροὺς παραδεικνύον; οὐδὲν ἄλλο.

[7] ὥσπερ οὖν ἦν ἄξιον, τὸ κράτιστον ἁπάντων καὶ κυριεῦον οἱ θεοὶ μόνον ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἐποίησαν, τὴν χρῆσιν τὴν ὀρθὴν ταῖς φαντασίαις, τὰ δʼ ἄλλα οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν. ἆρά γε ὅτι οὐκ ἤθελον;

[8] ἐγὼ μὲν δοκῶ ὅτι, εἰ ἠδύναντο, κἀκεῖνα ἂν ἡμῖν ἐπέτρεψαν· ἀλλὰ πάντως οὐκ ἠδύναντο.

[9] ἐπὶ γῆς γὰρ ὄντας καὶ σώματι συνδεδεμένους τοιούτῳ καὶ κοινωνοῖς τοιούτοις πῶς οἷόν τʼ ἦν εἰς ταῦτα ὑπὸ τῶν ἐκτὸς μὴ ἐμποδίζεσθαι;

ἀλλὰ τί λέγει ὁ Ζεύς;

[10] Ἐπίκτητε, εἰ οἷόν τε ἦν, καὶ τὸ σωμάτιον ἄν σου καὶ τὸ κτησίδιον ἐποίησα ἐλεύθερον καὶ ἀπαραπόδιστον.

[11] νῦν δέ, μή σε λανθανέτω, τοῦτο οὐκ ἔστιν σόν, ἀλλὰ πηλὸς κομψῶς πεφυραμένος.

[12] ἐπεὶ δὲ τοῦτο οὐκ ἠδυνάμην, ἐδώκαμέν σοι μέρος τι ἡμέτερον, τὴν δύναμιν ταύτην τὴν ὁρμητικήν τε καὶ ἀφορμητικὴν καὶ ὀρεκτικήν τε καὶ ἐκκλιτικὴν καὶ ἁπλῶς τὴν χρηστικὴν ταῖς φαντασίαις, ἧς ἐπιμελούμενος καὶ ἐν ᾗ τὰ σαυτοῦ τιθέμενος οὐδέποτε κωλυθήσῃ, οὐδέποτʼ ἐμποδισθήσῃ, οὐ στενάξεις, οὐ μέμψῃ, οὐ κολακεύσεις οὐδένα. τί οὖν; μή τι μικρά σοι φαίνεται ταῦτα; μὴ γένοιτο.

[13] ἀρκῇ οὖν αὐτοῖς; εὔχομαι δὲ τοῖς θεοῖς.

[14] νῦν δʼ ἑνὸς δυνάμενοι ἐπιμελεῖσθαι καὶ ἑνὶ προσηρτηκέναι ἑαυτοὺς μᾶλλον θέλομεν πολλῶν ἐπιμελεῖσθαι καὶ πολλοῖς προσδεδέσθαι καὶ τῷ σώματι καὶ τῇ κτήσει καὶ ἀδελφῷ καὶ φίλῳ καὶ τέκνῳ καὶ δούλῳ.

[15] ἅτε οὖν πολλοῖς προσδεδεμένοι βαρούμεθα ὑπʼ αὐτῶν καὶ καθελκόμεθα.

[16] διὰ τοῦτο, ἂν ἄπλοια ᾖ, καθήμεθα σπώμενοι καὶ παρακύπτομεν συνεχῶς· τίς ἄνεμος πνεῖ; βορέας. τί ἡμῖν καὶ αὐτῷ; πότε ὁ ζέφυρος πνεύσει; ὅταν αὐτῷ δόξῃ, ὦ βέλτιστε, ἢ τῷ Αἰόλῳ. σὲ γὰρ οὐκ ἐποίησεν ὁ θεὸς ταμίαν τῶν ἀνέμων, ἀλλὰ τὸν Αἴολον.

[17] τί οὖν; δεῖ τὰ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν βέλτιστα κατασκευάζειν, τοῖς δʼ ἄλλοις χρῆσθαι ὡς πέφυκεν. πῶς οὖν πέφυκεν; ὡς ἂν ὁ θεὸς θέλῃ.

[18] ἐμὲ οὖν νῦν τραχηλοκοπεῖσθαι μόνον; τί οὖν; ἤθελες πάντας τραχηλοκοπηθῆναι, ἵνα σὺ παραμυθίαν ἔχῃς;

[19] οὐ θέλεις οὕτως ἐκτεῖναι τὸν τράχηλον, ὡς Λατερανός τις ἐν τῇ Ῥώμῃ κελευσθεὶς ὑπὸ τοῦ Νέρωνος ἀποκεφαλισθῆναι; ἐκτείνας γὰρ τὸν τράχηλον καὶ πληγεὶς καὶ πρὸς αὐτὴν τὴν πληγὴν ἀσθενῆ γενομένην ἐπʼ ὀλίγον συνελκυσθεὶς πάλιν ἐξέτεινεν.

[20] ἀλλὰ καὶ ἔτι πρότερον προσελθόντι τις Ἐπαφροδίτῳ τῷ κυρίῳ τοῦ Νέρωνος καὶ ἀνακρίνοντι αὐτὸν ὑπὲρ τοῦ συγκρουσθῆναι ἄν τί θέλω, φησίν, ἐρῶ σου τῷ κυρίῳ.

[21] τί οὖν δεῖ πρόχειρον ἔχειν ἐν τοῖς τοιούτοις; τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἢ τί ἐμὸν καὶ τί οὐκ ἐμὸν καὶ τί μοι ἔξεστιν καὶ τί μοι οὐκ ἔξεστιν;

[22] ἀποθανεῖν με δεῖ· μή τι οὖν καὶ στένοντα; δεθῆναι· μή τι καὶ θρηνοῦντα; φυγαδευθῆναι· μή τις οὖν κωλύει γελῶντα καὶ εὐθυμοῦντα καὶ εὐροοῦντα;

[23] εἰπὲ τὰ ἀπόρρητα. οὐ λέγω· τοῦτο γὰρ ἐπʼ ἐμοί ἐστιν. ἀλλὰ δήσω σε. ἄνθρωπε. τί λέγεις; ἐμέ; τὸ σκέλος μου δήσεις, τὴν προαίρεσιν δὲ οὐδʼ ὁ Ζ εὺς νικῆσαι δύναται.

[24] εἰς φυλακήν σε βαλῶ. τὸ σωμάτιον. ἀποκεφαλίσω σε. πότε οὖν σοὶ εἶπον, ὅτι μόνου ἐμοῦ ὁ τράχηλος ἀναπότμητός ἐστιν;

[25] ταῦτα ἔδει μελετᾶν τοὺς φιλοσοφοῦντας, ταῦτα καθʼ ἡμέραν γράφειν, ἐν τούτοις γυμνάζεσθαι.

[26] Θρασέας εἰώθει λέγειν σήμερον ἀναιρεθῆναι θέλω μᾶλλον ἢ αὔριον φυγαδευθῆναι

[27] τί οὖν αὐτῷ Ῥοῦφος εἶπεν; εἰ μὲν ὡς βαρύτερον ἐκλέγῃ, τίς ἡ μωρία τῆς ἐκλογῆς; εἰ δʼ ὡς κουφότερον, τίς σοι δέδωκεν; οὐ θέλεις μελετᾶν ἀρκεῖσθαι τῷ δεδομένῳ;

[28] διὰ τοῦτο γὰρ Ἀγριππῖνος τί ἔλεγεν; ὅτι ἐγὼ ἐμαυτῷ ἐμπόδιος οὐ γίνομαι. ἀπηγγέλη αὐτῷ ὅτι κρίνῃ ἐν συγκλήτῳ. —

[29] ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ. ἀλλὰ ἦλθεν ἡ πέμπτη (ταύτῃ δʼ εἰώθει γυμνασάμενος ψυχρολουτρεῖν)·

[30] ἀπέλθωμεν καὶ γυμνασθῶμεν. γυμνασαμένῳ λέγει τις, αὐτῷ ἐλθὼν ὅτι Κατακέκρισαι. — φυγῇ,, φησίν, ἢ θανάτῳ; — φυγῇ. — τὰ ὑπάρχοντα τί; — οὐκ ἀφῃρέθη. — εἰς Ἀρίκειαν οὖν ἀπελθόντες ἀριστήσωμεν.

[31] — τοῦτʼ ἔστι μεμελετηκέναι ἃ δεῖ μελετᾶν, ὄρεξιν ἔκκλισιν ἀκώλυτα ἀπερίπτωτα παρεσκευακέναι. ἀποθανεῖν με δεῖ.

[32] εἰ ἤδη, ἀποθνῄσκω· κἂν μετʼ ὀλίγον, νῦν ἀριστῶ τῆς ὥρας ἐλθούσης, εἶτα τότε τεθνήξομαι. πῶς; ὡς προσήκει τὸν τὰ ἀλλότρια ἀποδιδόντα.

πῶς ἄν τις σῴζοι τὸ κατὰ πρόσωπον ἐν παντί.

[1] τῷ λογικῷ ζῴῳ μόνον ἀφόρητόν ἐστι τὸ ἄλογον, τὸ δʼ εὔλογον φορητόν.

[2] πληγαὶ οὐκ εἰσὶν ἀφόρητοι τῇ φύσει. — τίνα τρόπον; — ὅρα πῶς· Λακεδαιμόνιοι μαστιγοῦνται μαθόντες ὅτι εὔλογόν ἐστιν.

[3] — τὸ δʼ ἀπάγξα σθαι οὐκ ἔστιν ἀφόρητον; — ὅταν γοῦν πάθῃ τις ὅτι εὔ λογον, ἀπελθὼν ἀπήγξατο.

[4] ἁπλῶς ἐὰν προσέχωμεν, ὑπʼ οὐδενὸς οὕτως εὑρήσομεν τὸ ζῷον θλιβόμενον ὡς ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀλόγου καὶ πάλιν ἐπʼ οὐδὲν οὕτως ἑλκόμενον ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ εὔλογον.

[5] ἄλλῳ δʼ ἄλλο προσπίπτει τὸ εὔλογον καὶ ἄλογον, καθάπερ καὶ ἀγαθὸν καὶ κακὸν ἄλλο ἄλλῳ καὶ συμφέρον καὶ ἀσύμφορον.

[6] διὰ τοῦτο μάλιστα παιδείας δεόμεθα, ὥστε μαθεῖν τοῦ εὐλόγου καὶ ἀλόγου πρόληψιν ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρο υς οὐσίαις ἐφαρμόζειν συμφώνως τῇ φύσει.

[7] εἰς δὲ τὴν τοῦ εὐλόγου καὶ ἀλόγου κρίσιν οὐ μόνον ταῖς τῶν ἐκτὸς ἀξίαις συγχρώμεθα, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν κατὰ τὸ πρόσωπον ἑαυτοῦ ἕκαστος.

[8] τῷ μὲν γάρ τινι εὔλογον τὸ ἀμίδα παρακρατεῖν αὐτὸ μόνον βλέποντι, ὅτι μὴ παρακρατήσας μὲν πληγὰς λήψεται καὶ τροφὰς οὐ λήψεται, παρακρατήσας δʼ οὐ πείσεταί τι τραχὺ ἢ ἀνιαρόν·

[9] ἄλλῳ δέ τινι οὐ μόνον τὸ αὐτὸν παρακρατῆσαι ἀφόρητον δοκεῖ, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ ἄλλου παρακρατοῦντος ἀνασχέσθαι.

[10] ἂν οὖν μου πυνθάνῃ παρακρατήσω τὴν ἀμίδα ἢ μή;, ἐρῶ σοι ὅτι μείζονα ἀξίαν ἔχει τὸ λαβεῖν τροφὰς τοῦ μὴ λαβεῖν καὶ μείζονα ἀπαξίαν τὸ δαρῆναι τοῦ μὴ δαρῆναι· ὥστʼ εἰ τούτοις παραμετρεῖς τὰ σαυτοῦ, ἀπελθὼν παρακράτει.

[11] ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἂν κατʼ ἐμέ. τοῦτο σὲ δεῖ συνεισφέρειν εἰς τὴν σκέψιν, οὐκ ἐμέ. σὺ γὰρ εἶ ὁ σαυτὸν εἰδώς, πόσου ἄξιος εἶ σεαυτῷ καὶ πόσου σεαυτὸν πιπράσκεις· ἄλλοι γὰρ ἄλλων πιπράσκουσιν.

[12] διὰ τοῦτο Ἀγριππῖνος Φλώρῳ σκεπτομένῳ, εἰ καταβατέον αὐτῷ ἐστιν εἰς Νέρωνος θεωρίας, ὥστε καὶ αὐτόν τι λειτουργῆσαι, ἔφη κατάβηθι.

[13] πυθομένου δʼ αὐτοῦ διὰ τί σὺ οὐ καταβαίνεις; ἔφη ὅτι ἐγὼ οὐδὲ βουλεύομαι.

[14] ὁ γὰρ ἅπαξ εἰς τὴν περὶ τῶν τοιούτων σκέψιν καὶ τὰς τῶν ἐκτὸς ἀξίας συγκαθεὶς καὶ ψηφίζων ἐγγύς ἐστι τῶν ἐπιλελησμένων τοῦ ἰδίου προσώπου.

[15] τί γάρ μου πυνθάνῃ; θάνατος αἱρετώτερόν ἐστιν ἢ ζωή; λέγω ζωή.

[16] πόνος ἢ ἡδονή; λέγω ἡδονή. ἀλλά, ἂν μὴ τραγῳδήσω, τραχηλοκοπηθήσομαι. ἄπελθε τοίνυν καὶ τραγῴδει, ἐγὼ δʼ οὐ τραγῳδήσω.

[17] διὰ τί; ὅτι σὺ σεαυτὸν ἡγῇ μίαν τινὰ εἶναι κρόκην τῶν ἐκ τοῦ χιτῶνος. τί οὖν; σὲ ἔδει φροντίζειν πῶς ἀνόμοιος ᾖς τοῖς ἄλλοις ἀνθρώποις, ὥσπερ οὐδʼ ἡ κρόκη πρὸς τὰς ἄλλας κρόκας θέλει τι ἔχειν ἐξαίρετον.

[18] ἐγὼ δὲ πορφύρα εἶναι βούλομαι, τὸ ὀλίγον ἐκεῖνο καὶ στιλπνὸν καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις αἴτιον τοῦ εὐπρεπῆ φαίνεσθαι καὶ καλά. τί οὖν μοι λέγεις ὅτι ἐξομοιώθητι τοῖς πολλοῖς; καὶ πῶς ἔτι πορφύρα ἔσομαι;

[19] ταῦτα εἶδεν καὶ Πρῖσκος Ἑλουίδιος καὶ ἰδὼν ἐποίησε. προσπέμψαντος αὐτῷ Οὐεσπασιανοῦ, ἵνα μὴ εἰσέλθῃ εἰς τὴν σύγκλητον, ἀπεκρίνατο ἐπὶ σοί ἐστι μὴ ἐᾶσαί με εἶναι συγκλητικόν· μέχρι δὲ ἂν ὦ, δεῖ με εἰσέρχεσθαι.

[20] ἄγε ἀλλʼ εἰσελθών, φησίν, σιώπησον. μή μʼ ἐξέταζε καὶ σιωπήσω. ἀλλὰ δεῖ με ἐξετάσαι. κἀμὲ εἰπεῖν τὸ φαινόμενον δίκαιον. ἀλλʼ ἐὰν εἴπῃς, ἀποκτενῶ σε.

[21] πότε οὖν σοι εἶπον, ὅτι ἀθάνατός εἰμι; καὶ σὺ τὸ σὸν ποιήσεις κἀγὼ τὸ ἐμόν. σόν ἐστιν ἀποκτεῖναι, ἐμὸν ἀποθανεῖν μὴ τρέμοντα· σὸν φυγαδεῦσαι, ἐμὸν ἐξελθεῖν μὴ λυπούμενον.

[22] τί οὖν ὠφέλησε Πρῖσκος εἷς ὤν; τί δʼ ὠφελεῖ ἡ πορφύρα τὸ ἱμάτιον; τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἢ διαπρέπει ἐν αὐτῷ ὡς πορφύρα καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις δὲ καλὸν παράδειγμα ἔκκειται;

[23] ἄλλος δʼ ἂν εἰπόντος αὐτῷ Καίσαρος ἐν τοιαύτῃ περὶ στάσει μὴ ἐλθεῖν εἰς σύγκλητον εἶπεν ἔχω χάριν, ὅτι μου φείδῃ.

[24] τὸν τοιοῦτον οὐδʼ ἂν ἐκώλυεν εἰσελθεῖν, ἀλλʼ ᾔδει, ὅτι ἢ καθεδεῖται ὡς κεράμιον ἢ λέγων ἐρεῖ, ἃ οἶδεν ὅτι ὁ Καῖσαρ θέλει, καὶ προσεπισωρεύσει ἔτι πλείονα.

[25] τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον καὶ ἀθλητής τις κινδυνεύων ἀποθανεῖν, εἰ μὴ ἀπεκόπη τὸ αἰδοῖον, ἐπελθόντος αὐτῷ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ (ἦν δʼ ἐκεῖνος φιλόσοφος) καὶ εἰπόντος ἄγε, ἀδελφέ, τί μέλλεις ποιεῖν; ἀποκόπτομεν τοῦτο τὸ μέρος καὶ ἔτι εἰς γυμνάσιον προερχόμεθα; οὐχ ὑπέμεινεν, ἀλλʼ ἐγκαρτερήσας ἀπέθανεν.

[26] πυθομένου δέ τινος· πῶς τοῦτο ἐποίησεν; ὡς ἀθλητὴς ἢ ὡς φιλόσοφος; ὡς ἀνήρ, ἔφη, ἀνὴρ δʼ Ὀλύμπια κεκηρυγμένος καὶ ἠγωνισμένος, ἐν τοιαύτῃ τινὶ χώρᾳ ἀνεστραμμένος, οὐχὶ παρὰ τῷ Βάτω νι ἀλειφόμενος.

[27] ἄλλος δὲ κἂν τὸν τράχηλον ἀπετμήθη, εἰ ζῆν ἠδύνατο δίχα τοῦ τραχήλου.

[28] τοιοῦτόν ἐστι τὸ κατὰ πρόσωπον· οὕτως ἰσχυρὸν παρὰ τοῖς εἰθισμένοις αὐτὸ συνεισφέρειν ἐξ αὐτῶν ἐν ταῖς σκέψεσιν.

[29] ἄγε οὖν, Ἐπίκτητε, διαξύρησαι. ἂν ὦ φιλόσοφος, λέγω οὐ διαξυρῶμαι. ἀλλʼ ἀφελῶ σου τὸν τράχηλον. εἰ σοὶ ἄμεινον, ἄφελε.

[30] ἐπύθετό τις· πόθεν οὖν αἰσθησόμεθα τοῦ κατὰ πρόσωπον ἕκαστος; — πόθεν δʼ ὁ ταῦρος, ἔφη, λέοντος ἐπελθόντος μόνος αἰσθάνεται τῆς αὑτοῦ παρασκευῆς καὶ προβέβληκεν ἑαυτὸν ὑπὲρ τῆς ἀγέλης πάσης; ἢ δῆλον ὅτι εὐθὺς ἅμα τῷ τὴν παρασκευὴν ἔχειν ἀπαντᾷ καὶ συναίσθησις αὐτῆς;

[31] καὶ ἡμῶν τοίνυν ὅστις ἂν ἔχῃ τοιαύτην παρασκευήν, οὐκ ἀγνοήσει αὐτήν.

[32] ἄφνω δὲ ταῦρος οὐ γίνεται οὐδὲ γενναῖος ἄνθρωπος, ἀλλὰ δεῖ χειμασκῆσαι, παρασκευάσασθαι καὶ μὴ εἰκῇ προσπηδᾶν ἐπὶ τὰ μηδὲν προσήκοντα.

[33] μόνον σκέψαι, πόσου πωλεῖς τὴν σεαυτοῦ προαίρεσιν. ἄνθρωπε, εἰ μηδὲν ἄλλο, μὴ ὀλίγου αὐτὴν πωλήσῃς. τὸ δὲ μέγα καὶ ἐξαίρετον ἄλλοις τάχα προσήκει, Σωκράτει καὶ τοῖς τοιούτοις.

[34] — διὰ τί οὖν, εἰ πρὸς τοῦτο πεφύκαμεν, οὐ πάντες ἢ πολλοὶ γίνονται τοιοῦτοι; — ἵπποι γὰρ ὠκεῖς ἅπαντες γίνονται, κύνες γὰρ ἰχνευτικοὶ πάντες;

[35] τί οὖν; ἐπειδὴ ἀφυής εἰμι, ἀποστῶ τῆς ἐπιμελείας τούτου ἕνεκα;

[36] μὴ γένοιτο. Ἐπίκτητος κρείσσων Σωκράτους οὐκ ἔσται· εἰ δὲ μή, οὐ χείρων, τοῦτό μοι ἱκανόν ἐστιν.

[37] οὐδὲ γὰρ Μίλων ἔσομαι καὶ ὅμως οὐκ ἀμελῶ τοῦ σώματος· οὐδὲ Κροῖσος καὶ ὅμως οὐκ ἀμελῶ τῆς κτήσεως· οὐδʼ ἁπλῶς ἄλλου τινὸς τῆς ἐπιμελείας διὰ τὴν ἀπόγνωσιν τῶν ἄκρων ἀφιστάμεθα.

πῶς ἄν τις ἀπὸ τοῦ τὸν θεὸν πατέρα εἶναι τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἐπὶ τὰ ἑξῆς ἐπέλθοι.

[1] εἴ τις τῷ δόγματι τούτῳ συμπαθῆσαι κατʼ ἀξίαν δύναιτο, ὅτι γεγόναμεν ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ πάντες προηγουμένως καὶ ὁ θεὸς πατήρ ἐστι τῶν τʼ ἀνθρώπων καὶ τῶν θεῶν, οἶμαι ὅτι οὐδὲν ἀγεννὲς οὐδὲ ταπεινὸν ἐνθυμηθήσεται περὶ ἑαυτοῦ.

[2] ἀλλʼ ἂν μὲν Καῖσαρ εἰσποιήσηταί σε, οὐδείς σου τὴν ὀφρῦν βαστάσει· ἂν δὲ γνῷς, ὅτι τοῦ Διὸς υἱὸς εἶ, οὐκ ἐπαρθήσῃ;

[3] νῦν δʼ οὐ ποιοῦμεν, ἀλλʼ ἐπειδὴ δύο ταῦτα ἐν τῇ γενέσει ἡμῶν ἐγκαταμέμικται, τὸ σῶμα μὲν κοινὸν πρὸς τὰ ζῷα, ὁ λόγος δὲ καὶ ἡ γνώμη κοινὸν πρὸς τοὺς θεούς, ἄλλοι μὲν ἐπὶ ταύτην ἀποκλίνουσιν τὴν συγγένειαν τὴν ἀτυχῆ καὶ νεκράν, ὀλίγοι δέ τινες ἐπὶ τὴν θείαν καὶ μακαρίαν.

[4] ἐπειδὴ τοίνυν ἀνάγκη πάνθʼ ὁντινοῦν οὕτως ἑκάστῳ χρῆσθαι ὡς ἂν περὶ αὐτοῦ ὑπολάβῃ, ἐκεῖνοι μὲν οἱ ὀλίγοι, ὅσοι πρὸς πίστιν οἴονται γεγονέναι καὶ πρὸς αἰδῶ καὶ πρὸς ἀσφάλειαν τῆς χρήσεως τῶν φαντασιῶν, οὐδὲν ταπεινὸν οὐδʼ ἀγε ννὲς ἐνθυμοῦνται περὶ αὑτῶν, οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ τἀναντία.

[5] τί γὰρ εἰμί; ταλαίπωρον ἀνθρωπάριον καὶ τὰ δύστηνά μου σαρκίδια.

[6] τῷ μὲν ὄντι δύστηνα, ἀλλὰ ἔχεις τι καὶ κρεῖσσον τῶν σαρκιδίων. τί οὖν ἀφεὶς ἐκεῖνο τούτοις προστέτηκας;

[7] διὰ ταύτην τὴν συγγένειαν οἱ μὲν ἀποκλίναντες λύκοις ὅμοιοι γινόμεθα, ἄπιστοι καὶ ἐπίβουλοι καὶ βλαβεροί, οἱ δὲ λέουσιν, ἄγριοι καὶ θηριώδεις καὶ ἀνήμεροι, οἱ πλείους δʼ ἡμῶν ἀλώπεκες καὶ ὡς ἐν ζῴοις ἀτυχήματα.

[8] τί γάρ ἐστιν ἄλλο λοίδορος καὶ κακοήθης ἄνθρωπος ἢ ἀλώπηξ ἢ τί ἄλλο ἀτυχέστερον καὶ ταπεινότερον;

[9] ὁρᾶτε οὖν καὶ προσέχετε, μή τι τούτων ἀποβῆτε τῶν ἀτυχημάτων.

περὶ προκοπῆς.

[1] ὁ προκόπτων μεμαθηκὼς παρὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων ὅτι ἡ μὲν ὄρεξις ἀγαθῶν ἐστιν, ἡ δʼ ἔκκλισις πρὸς κακά, μεμαθηκὼς δὲ καὶ ὅτι οὐκ ἄλλως τὸ εὔρουν καὶ ἀπαθὲς περιγίνεται τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ ἢ ἐν ὀρέξει μὲν μὴ ἀποτυγχάνοντι, ἐν ἐκκλίσει δὲ μὴ περιπίπτοντι, τὴν μὲν ὄρεξιν ἦρκεν ἐξ αὑτοῦ εἰσάπαν καὶ ὑπερτέθειται, τῇ ἐκκλίσει δὲ πρὸς μόνα χρῆται τὰ προαιρετικά.

[2] τῶν γὰρ ἀπροαιρέτων ἄν τι ἐκκλίνῃ, οἶδεν ὅτι περιπεσεῖταί ποτέ τινι παρὰ τὴν ἔκκλισιν τὴν αὑτοῦ καὶ δυστυχήσει.

[3] εἰ δʼ ἡ ἀρετὴ ταύτην ἔχει τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν εὐδαιμονίαν ποιῆσαι καὶ ἀπάθειαν καὶ εὔροιαν, πάντως καὶ ἡ προκοπὴ ἡ πρὸς αὐτὴν πρὸς ἕκαστον τούτων ἐστὶ προκοπή.

[4] ἀεὶ γὰρ πρὸς ὃ ἂν ἡ τελειότης τινὸς καθάπαξ ἄγῃ, πρὸς αὐτὸ ἡ προκοπὴ συνεγγισμός ἐστιν.

[5] πῶς οὖν τὴν μὲν ἀρετὴν τοιοῦτόν τι ὁμολογοῦμεν, τὴν προκοπὴν δʼ ἐν ἄλλοις ζητοῦμεν καὶ ἐπιδείκνυμεν; τί ἔργον ἀρετῆς;

[6] εὔροια. τίς οὖν προκόπτει; ὁ πολλὰς Χρυσίππου συντάξεις ἀνεγνωκώς;

[7] μὴ γὰρ ἡ ἀρετὴ τοῦτʼ ἔστι Χρύσιππον νενοηκέναι; εἰ γὰρ τοῦτʼ ἔστιν, ὁμολογουμένως ἡ προκοπὴ οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἐστὶν ἢ τὸ πολλὰ τῶν Χρυσίππου νοεῖν.

[8] νῦν δʼ ἄλλο μέν τι τὴν ἀρετὴν ἐπιφέρειν ὁμολογοῦμεν, ἄλλο ν δὲ τὸν συνεγγισμόν, τὴν προκοπὴν ἀποφαίνομεν.

[9] οὗτος, φησίν, ἤδη καὶ διʼ αὑτοῦ δύναται Χρύσιππον ἀναγιγνώσκειν. εὖ, νὴ τοὺς θεούς, προκόπτεις, ἄνθρωπε· ποίαν προκοπήν.

[10] τί ἐμπαίζεις αὐτῷ; τί δʼ ἀπάγεις αὐτὸν τῆς συναισθήσεως τῶν αὑτοῦ κακῶν; οὐ θέλεις δεῖξαι αὐτῷ τὸ ἔργον τῆς ἀρετῆς, ἵνα μάθῃ ποῦ τὴν προκοπὴν ζητῇ;

[11] ἐκεῖ ζήτησον αὐτήν, ταλαίπωρε, ὅπου σου τὸ ἔργον. ποῦ δέ σου τὸ ἔργον; ἐν ὀρέξει καὶ ἐκκλίσει, ἵνʼ ἀναπότευκτος ᾖς καὶ ἀπερίπτωτος, ἐν ὁρμαῖς καὶ ἀφορμαῖς, ἵνʼ ἀναμάρτητος, ἐν προ ςθέσει καὶ ἐποχῇ, ἵνʼ ἀνεξαπάτητος.

[12] πρῶτοι δʼ εἰσὶν οἱ πρῶτοι τόποι καὶ ἀναγκαιότατοι. ἂν δὲ τρέμων καὶ πενθῶν ζητῇς ἀπερίπτωτος εἶναι, ἄρα πῶς προκόπτεις;

[13] σὺ οὖν ἐνταῦθά μοι δεῖξόν σου τὴν προκοπήν. καθάπερ εἰ ἀθλητῇ διελεγόμην δεῖξόν μοι τοὺς ὤμους, εἶτα ἔλεγεν ἐκεῖνος ἴδε μου τοὺς ἁλτῆρας. ὄψει σὺ καὶ οἱ ἁλτῆρες, ἐγὼ τὸ ἀποτέλεσμα τῶν ἁλτήρων ἰδεῖν βούλομαι.

[14] λάβε τὴν περὶ ὁρμῆς σύνταξιν καὶ γνῶθι πῶς αὐτὴν ἀνέγνωκα. ἀνδράποδον, οὐ τοῦτο ζητῶ, ἀλλὰ πῶς ὁρμᾷς καὶ ἀφορμᾷς, πῶς ὀρέγῃ καὶ ἐκκλίνεις, πῶς ἐπιβάλλῃ καὶ προ στίθεσαι καὶ παρασκευάζῃ, πότερα συμφώνως τῇ φύσει ἢ ἀσυμφώνως.

[15] εἰ γὰρ συμφώνως, τοῦτό μοι δείκνυε καὶ ἐρῶ σοι ὅτι προκόπτεις· εἰ δʼ ἀσυμφώνως, ἄπελθε καὶ μὴ μόνον ἐξηγοῦ τὰ βιβλία, ἀλλὰ καὶ γράφε αὐτὸς τοιαῦτα.

[16] καὶ τί σοι ὄφελος; οὐκ οἶδας ὅτι ὅλον τὸ βιβλίον πέντε δηναρίων ἐστίν; ὁ οὖν ἐξηγούμενος αὐτὸ δοκεῖ ὅτι πλείονος ἄξιός ἐστιν ἢ πέντε δηναρίων;

[17] μηδέποτε οὖν ἀλλαχοῦ τὸ ἔργον ζητεῖτε, ἀλλαχοῦ τὴν προκοπήν.

[18] ποῦ οὖν προκοπή; εἴ τις ὑμῶν ἀποστὰς τῶν ἐκτὸς ἐπὶ τὴν προαίρεσιν ἐπέστραπται τὴν αὑτοῦ, ταύτην ἐξεργάζεσθαι καὶ ἐκπονεῖν, ὥστε σύμφωνον ἀποτελέσαι τῇ φύσει, ὑψηλὴν ἐλευθέραν ἀκώλυτον ἀνεμπόδιστον πιστὴν αἰδήμονα·

[19] μεμάθηκέν τε, ὅτι ὁ τὰ μὴ ἐφʼ αὑτῷ ποθῶν ἢ φεύγων οὔτε πιστὸς εἶναι δύναται οὔτʼ ἐλεύθερος, ἀλλʼ ἀνάγκη μεταπίπτειν καὶ μεταρριπίζεσθαι ἅμα ἐκείνοις καὶ αὐτόν, ἀνάγκη δὲ καὶ ὑποτεταχέναι ἄλλοις ἑαυτόν, τοῖς ἐκεῖνα περιποιεῖν ἢ κωλύειν δυναμένοις·

[20] καὶ λοιπὸν ἕωθεν ἀνιστάμενος ταῦτα τηρεῖ καὶ φυλάσσει, λούεται ὡς πιστός, ὡς αἰδήμων ἐσθίει, ὡσαύτως ἐπὶ τῆς ἀεὶ παραπιπτούσης ὕλης τὰ προηγούμενα ἐκπονῶν, ὡς ὁ δρομεὺς δρομικῶς καὶ ὁ φώνασκος φωνασκικῶς·

[21] οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ προκόπτων ταῖς ἀληθείαις καὶ ὁ μὴ εἰκῇ ἀποδεδημηκὼς οὗτός ἐστιν.

[22] εἰ δʼ ἐπὶ τὴν ἐν τοῖς βιβλίοις ἕξιν τέταται καὶ ταύτην ἐκπονεῖ καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦτο ἐκδεδήμηκε, λέγω αὐτῷ αὐτόθεν πορεύεσθαι εἰς οἶκον καὶ μὴ ἀμελεῖν τῶν ἐκεῖ·

[23] τοῦτο γὰρ ἐφʼ ὃ ἀποδεδήμηκεν οὐδέν ἐστιν· ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνο, με λετᾶν ἐξελεῖν τοῦ αὑτοῦ βίου πένθη καὶ οἰμωγὰς καὶ τὸ οἴμοι καὶ τὸ τάλας ἐγὼ καὶ δυστυχίαν καὶ ἀτυχίαν καὶ μαθεῖν,

[24] τί ἐστι θάνατος, τί φυγή, τί δεσμωτήριον, τί νοσκών ειον, ἵνα δύνηται λέγειν ἐν τῇ φυλακῇ ὦ φίλε Κρίτων, εἰ ταύτῃ τοῖς θεοῖς φίλον, ταύτῃ γινέσθω καὶ μὴ ἐκεῖνα τάλας ἐγώ, γέρων ἄνθρωπος, ἐπὶ ταῦτά μου τὰς πολιὰς ἐτήρησα.

[25] τίς λέγει ταῦτα; δοκεῖτε ὅτι ὑμῖν ἄδοξόν τινα ἐρῶ καὶ ταπεινόν; Πρίαμος αὐτὰ οὐ λέγει; Οἰδίπους οὐ λέγει; ἀλλʼ ὁπόσοι βασιλεῖς λέγουσιν;

[26] τί γάρ εἰσιν ἄλλο τραγῳδίαι ἢ ἀνθρώπων πάθη τεθαυμακότων τὰ ἐκτὸς διὰ μέτρου τοιοῦδʼ ἐπιδεικνύμενα;

[27] εἰ γὰρ ἐξαπατηθέντα τινὰ ἔδει μαθεῖν, ὅτι τῶν ἐκτὸς καὶ ἀπροαιρέτων οὐδέν ἐστι πρὸς ἡμᾶς, ἐγὼ μὲν ἤθελον τὴν ἀπάτην ταύτην, ἐξ ἧς ἤμελλον εὐρόως καὶ ἀταράχως βιώσεσθαι, ὑμεῖς δʼ ὄψεσθʼ αὐτοὶ τί θέλετε.

[28] τί οὖν ἡμῖν παρέχει Χρύσιππος; ἵνα γνῷς, φησίν, ὅτι οὐ ψευδῆ ταῦτά ἐστιν, ἐξ ὧν ἡ εὔροιά ἐστι καὶ ἀπάθεια ἀπαντᾷ,

[29] λάβε μου τὰ βιβλία καὶ γνώσῃ ὡς τε καὶ σύμφωνά ἐστι τῇ φύσει τὰ ἀπαθῆ με ποιοῦντα. ὦ μεγάλης εὐτυχίας, ὦ μεγάλου εὐεργέτου τοῦ δεικνύοντος τὴν ὁδόν.

[30] εἶτα Τριπτολέμῳ μὲν ἱερὰ καὶ βωμοὺς πάντες ἄνθρωποι ἀνεστάκασιν,

[31] ὅτι τὰς ἡμέρους τροφὰς ἡμῖν ἔδωκεν, τῷ δὲ τὴν ἀλήθειαν εὑρόντι καὶ φωτίσαντι καὶ εἰς πάντας ἀνθρώπους ἐξενεγκόντι, οὐ τὴν περὶ τὸ ζῆν, ἀλλὰ τὴν πρὸς τὸ εὖ ζῆν, τίς ὑμῶν ἐπὶ τούτῳ βωμὸν ἱδρύσατο ἢ ναὸν ἢ ἄγαλμα ἀνέθηκεν ἢ τὸν θεὸν ἐπὶ τούτῳ προσκυνεῖ;

[32] ἀλλʼ ὅτι μὲν ἄμπελον ἔδωκαν ἢ πυρούς, ἐπιθύομεν τούτου ἕνεκα, ὅτι δὲ τοιοῦτον ἐξήνεγκαν καρπὸν ἐν ἀνθρωπίνῃ διανοίᾳ, διʼ οὗ τὴν ἀλήθειαν τὴν περὶ εὐδαιμονίας δείξειν ἡμῖν ἤμελλον, τούτου δʼ ἕνεκα οὐκ εὐχαριστήσωμεν τῷ θεῷ;

πρὸς τοὺς Ἀκαδημαικούς.

[1] ἄν τις, φησίν, ἐνίστηται πρὸς τὰ ἄγαν ἐκφανῆ, πρὸς τοῦτον οὐ ῥᾴδιόν ἐστιν εὑ ρεῖν λόγον, διʼ οὗ μεταπείσει τις αὐτόν.

[2] τοῦτο δʼ οὔτε παρὰ τὴν ἐκείνου γίνεται δύναμιν οὔτε παρὰ τὴν τοῦ διδάσκοντος ἀσθένειαν, ἀλλʼ ὅταν ἀπαχθεὶς ἀπολιθωθῇ, πῶς ἔτι χρήσηταί τις αὐτῷ διὰ λόγου;

[3] Ἀπολιθώσεις δʼ εἰσὶ διτταί· ἡ μὲν τοῦ νοητικοῦ ἀπολίθωσις, ἡ δὲ τοῦ ἐντρεπτικοῦ, ὅταν τις παρατεταγμένος ᾖ μὴ ἐπινεύειν τοῖς ἐναργέσι μηδʼ ἀπὸ τῶν μαχομένων ἀφίστασθαι.

[4] οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ τὴν μὲν σωματικὴν ἀπονέκρωσιν φοβούμεθα καὶ πάντʼ ἂν μηχανησαίμεθα ὑπὲρ τοῦ μὴ περιπεσεῖν τοιούτῳ τινί, τῆς ψυχῆς δʼ ἀπονεκρουμένης οὐδὲν ἡμῖν μέλει.

[5] καὶ νὴ Δία ἐπὶ αὐτῆς τῆς ψυχῆς ἂν μὲν ᾖ οὕτως διακείμενος, ὥστε μηδενὶ παρακολουθεῖν μηδὲ συνιέναι μηδέν, καὶ τοῦτον κακῶς ἔχειν οἰόμεθα· ἂν δέ τινος τὸ ἐντρεπτικὸν καὶ αἰδῆμον ἀπονεκρωθῇ, τοῦτο ἔτι καὶ δύναμιν καλοῦμεν.

Καταλαμβάνεις ὅτι ἐγρήγορας;

[6] οὔ, φησίν· οὐδὲ γάρ, ὅταν ἐν τοῖς ὕπνοις φαντάζωμαι, ὅτι ἐγρήγορα. οὐδὲν οὖν διαφέρει αὕτη ἡ φαντασία ἐκείνης; οὐδέν. ἔτι τούτῳ διαλέγομαι;

[7] καὶ ποῖον αὐτῷ πῦρ ἢ ποῖον σίδηρον προσαγάγω, ἵνʼ αἴσθηται ὅτι νενέκρωται; αἰσθανόμενος οὐ προσποιεῖται· ἔτι χείρων ἐστὶ τοῦ νεκροῦ. μάχην οὗτος οὐ συνορᾷ· κακῶς ἔχει.

[8] συνορῶν οὗτος οὐ κινεῖται οὐδὲ προκόπτει· ἔτι ἀθλιώτερον ἔχει.

[9] ἐκτέτμηται τὸ αἰδῆμον αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐντρεπτικὸν καὶ τὸ λογικὸν οὐκ ἀποτέτμηται, ἀλλʼ ἀποτεθηρίωται.

[10] ταύτην ἐγὼ δύναμιν εἴπω; μὴ γένοιτο, εἰ μὴ καὶ τὴν τῶν κιναίδων, καθʼ ἣν πᾶν τὸ ἐπελθὸν ἐν μέσῳ καὶ ποιοῦσι καὶ λέγουσι.

περὶ προνοίας.

[1] ἀφʼ ἑκάστου τῶν ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ γινομένων ῥᾴδιόν ἐστιν ἐγκωμιάσαι τὴν πρόνοιαν, ἂν δύο ἔχῃ τις ταῦτα ἐν ἑαυτῷ, δύναμίν τε συνορατικὴν τῶν γεγονότων ἑκάστῳ καὶ τὸ εὐχάριστον.

[2] εἰ δὲ μή, ὁ μὲν οὐκ ὄψεται τὴν εὐχρηστίαν τῶν γεγονότων, ὁ δʼ οὐκ εὐχαριστήσει ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς οὐδʼ ἂν ἴδῃ.

[3] χρώματα ὁ θεὸς εἰ πεποιήκει, δύναμιν δὲ θεατικὴν αὐτῶν μὴ πεποιήκει, τί ἂν ἦν ὄφελος;

[4] — οὐδʼ ὁτιοῦν. — ἀλλʼ ἀνάπαλιν εἰ τὴν μὲν δύναμιν πεποιήκει, τὰ ὄντα δὲ μὴ τοιαῦτα οἷα ὑποπίπτειν τῇ δυνάμει τῇ ὁρατικῇ, καὶ οὕτως τί ὄφελος;

[5] — οὐδʼ ὁτιοῦν.

[6] — τί δʼ, εἰ καὶ ἀμφότερα ταῦτα πεποιήκει, φῶς δὲ μὴ πεποιήκει; — οὐδʼ οὕτως τι ὄφελος. — τίς οὖν ὁ ἁρμόσας τοῦτο πρὸς ἐκεῖνο κἀκεῖνο πρὸς τοῦτο; τίς δʼ ὁ ἁρμόσας τὴν μάχαιραν πρὸς τὸ κολεὸν καὶ τὸ κολεὸν πρὸς τὴν μάχαιραν;

[7] οὐδείς; καὶ μὴν ἐξ αὐτῆς τῆς κατασκευῆς τῶν ἐπιτετελεσμένων ἀποφαίνεσθαι εἰώθαμεν, ὅτι τεχνίτου τινὸς πάντως τὸ ἔργον, οὐχὶ δʼ εἰκῇ κατεσκευασμένον.

[8] ἆρʼ οὖν τούτων μὲν ἕκαστον ἐμφαίνει τὸν τεχνίτην, τὰ δʼ ὁρατὰ καὶ ὅρας εις καὶ φῶς οὐκ ἐμφαίνει;

[9] τὸ δʼ ἄρρεν καὶ τὸ θῆλυ καὶ ἡ προθυμία ἡ πρὸς τὴν συνουσίαν ἑκατέρου καὶ δύναμις ἡ χρηστικὴ τοῖς μορίοις τοῖς κατεσκευασμένοις οὐδὲ ταῦτα ἐμφαίνει τὸν τεχνίτην;

[10] ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μέν· ἡ δὲ τοιαύτη τῆς διανοίας κατασκευή, καθʼ ἣν οὐχ ἁπλῶς ὑποπίπτοντες τοῖς αἰσθητοῖς τυπούμεθα ὑπʼ αὐτῶν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐκλαμβάνομέν τι καὶ ἀφαιροῦμεν καὶ προστίθεμεν καὶ συντίθεμεν τάδε τινὰ διʼ αὐτῶν καὶ νὴ Δία μεταβαίνομεν ἀπʼ ἄλλων ἐπʼ ἄλλα τινὰ οὕτω πως παρακείμενα, οὐδὲ ταῦτα ἱκανὰ κινῆσαί τινας καὶ διατρέψαι πρὸς τὸ ἀπολιπεῖν τὸν τεχνίτην;

[11] ἢ ἐξηγησάσθωσαν ἡμῖν τί τὸ ποιοῦν ἐστιν ἕκαστον τούτων ἢ πῶς οἷόν τε τὰ οὕτω θαυμαστὰ καὶ τεχνικὰ εἰκῇ καὶ ἀπὸ ταὐτομάτου γίνεσθαι.

[12] τί οὖν; ἐφʼ ἡμῶν μόνων γίνεται ταῦτα; πολλὰ μὲν ἐπὶ μόνων, ὧν ἐξαιρέτως χρείαν εἶχεν τὸ λογικὸν ζῷον, πολλὰ δὲ κοινὰ εὑρήσεις ἡμῖν καὶ πρὸς τὰ ἄλογα.

[13] ἆρʼ οὖν καὶ παρακολουθεῖ τοῖς γινομένοις ἐκεῖνα; οὐδαμῶς. ἄλλο γάρ ἐστι χρῆσις καὶ ἄλλο παρακολούθησις. ἐκείνων χρείαν εἶχεν ὁ θεὸς χρωμένων ταῖς φαντασίαις, ἡμῶν δὲ παρακολουθούντων τῇ χρήσει.

[14] διὰ τοῦτο ἐκείνοις μὲν ἀρκεῖ τὸ ἐσθίειν καὶ πίνειν καὶ τὸ ἀναπαύεσθαι καὶ ὀχεύειν καὶ τἆλλʼ ὅσα ἐπιτελεῖ τῶν αὑτῶν ἕκαστον, ἡμῖν δʼ, οἷς καὶ τὴν παρακολουθητικὴν δύναμιν ἔδωκεν,

[15] οὐκέτι ταῦτʼ ἀπαρκεῖ, ἀλλʼ ἂν μὴ κατὰ τρόπον καὶ τεταγμένως καὶ ἀκολούθως τῇ ἑκάστου φύσει καὶ κατασκευῇ πράττωμεν, οὐκέτι τοῦ τέλους τευξόμεθα τοῦ ἑαυτῶν.

[16] ὧν γὰρ αἱ κατασκευαὶ διάφοροι, τούτων καὶ τὰ ἔργα καὶ τὰ τέλη.

[17] οὗ τοίνυν ἡ κατασκευὴ μόνον χρηστική, τούτῳ χρῆσθαι ὁπωσοῦν ἀπαρκεῖ· οὗ δὲ καὶ παρακολουθητικὴ τῇ χρήσει, τούτῳ τὸ κατὰ τρόπον ἂν μὴ προσῇ οὐδέποτε τεύξεται τοῦ τέλους.

[18] τί οὖν; ἐκείνων ἕκαστον κατασκευάζει τὸ μὲν ὥστʼ ἐσθίεσθαι, τὸ δʼ ὥστε ὑπηρετεῖν εἰς γεωργίαν, τὸ δʼ ὥστε τυρὸν φέρειν, τὸ δʼ ἄλλο ἐπʼ ἄλλῃ χρείᾳ παραπλησίῳ, πρὸς ἃ τίς χρεία τοῦ παρακολουθεῖν ταῖς φαντασίαις καὶ ταύτας διακρίνειν δύνασθαι;

[19] τὸν δʼ ἄνθρωπον θεατὴν εἰσήγαγεν αὐτοῦ τε καὶ τῶν ἔργων τῶν αὐτοῦ, καὶ οὐ μόνον θεατήν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐξηγητὴν αὐτῶν.

[20] διὰ τοῦτο αἰσχρόν ἐστι τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ ἄρχεσθαι καὶ καταλήγειν ὅπου καὶ τὰ ἄλογα, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἔνθεν μὲν ἄρχεσθαι, καταλήγειν δὲ ἐφʼ ὃ κατέληξεν ἐφʼ ἡμῶν καὶ ἡ φύσις.

[21] κατέληξεν δʼ ἐπὶ θεωρίαν καὶ παρακολούθησιν καὶ σύμφωνον διεξαγωγὴν τῇ φύσει.

[22] ὁρᾶτε οὖν, μὴ ἀθέατοι τούτων ἀποθάνητε.

[23] ἀλλʼ εἰς Ὀλυμπίαν μὲν ἀποδημεῖτε, ἵνʼ εἴδητε τὸ ἔργον τοῦ Φειδίου, καὶ ἀτύχημα ἕκαστος ὑμῶν οἴεται τὸ ἀνιστόρητος τούτων ἀποθανεῖν·

[24] ὅπου δʼ οὐδʼ ἀποδημῆσαι χρεία ἐστίν, ἀλλʼ ἐστὲ ἤδη καὶ πάρεστε τοῖς ἔργοις, ταῦτα δὲ θεάσασθαι καὶ κατανοῆσαι οὐκ ἐπιθυμήσετε;

[25] οὐκ αἰσθήσεσθε τοίνυν, οὔτε τίνες ἐστὲ οὔτʼ ἐπὶ τί γεγόνατε οὔτε ἐπὶ τί τοῦτό ἐστιν, ἐφʼ οὗ τὴν θέαν παρείληφθε;

[26] — ἀλλὰ γίνεταί τινα ἀηδῆ καὶ χαλεπὰ ἐν τῷ βίῳ. — ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ δʼ οὐ γίνεται; οὐ καυματίζεσθε; οὐ στενοχωρεῖσθε; οὐ κακῶς λούεσθε; οὐ καταβρέχεσθε, ὅταν βρέχῃ; θορύβου δὲ καὶ βοῆς καὶ τῶν ἄλλων χαλεπῶν οὐκ ἀπολαύετε;

[27] ἀλλʼ οἶμαι ὅτι ταῦτα πάντα ἀντιτιθέντες πρὸς τὸ ἀξιόλογον τῆς θέας φέρετε καὶ ἀνέχεσθε.

[28] ἄγε δυνάμεις δʼ οὐκ εἰλήφατε, καθʼ ἃς οἴσετε πᾶν τὸ συμβαῖνον; μεγαλοψυχίαν οὐκ εἰλήφατε; ἀνδρείαν οὐκ εἰλήφατε;

[29] καρτερίαν οὐκ εἰλήφατε; καὶ τί ἔτι μοι μέλει μεγαλοψύχῳ ὄντι τῶν ἀποβῆναι δυναμένων; τί μʼ ἐκστήσει ἢ ταράξει ἢ τί ὀδυνηρὸν φανεῖται; οὐ χρήσομαι τῇ δυνάμει πρὸς ἃ εἴληφα αὐτήν, ἀλλʼ ἐπὶ τοῖς ἀποβαίνουσιν πενθήσω καὶ στενάξω;

[30] ναί· ἀλλʼ αἱ μύξαι μου ῥέουσιν. τίνος οὖν ἕνεκα χεῖρας ἔχεις, ἀνδράποδον; οὐχ ἵνα καὶ ἀπομύσσῃς σεαυτόν;

[31] — τοῦτο οὖν εὔλογον μύξας γίνεσθαι ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ;

[32] — καὶ πόσῳ κρεῖττον ἀπομύξασθαί σε ἢ ἐγκαλεῖν; ἢ τί οἴει ὅτι ὁ Ἡρακλῆς ἂν ἀπέβη, εἰ μὴ λέων τοιοῦτος ἐγένετο καὶ ὕδρα καὶ ἔλαφ ρος καὶ σῦς καὶ ἄδικοί τινες ἄνθρωποι καὶ θηριώδεις, οὓς ἐκεῖνος ἐξήλαυνεν καὶ ἐκάθαιρεν;

[33] καὶ τί ἂν ἐποίει μηδενὸς τοιούτου γεγονότος; ἢ δῆλον ὅτι ἐντετυλιγμένος ἂν ἐκάθευδεν; οὐκοῦν πρῶτον μὲν οὐκ ἂν ἐγένετο Ἡρακλῆς ἐν τρυφῇ τοιαύτῃ καὶ ἡσυχίᾳ νυστάζων ὅλον τὸν βίον· εἰ δʼ ἄρα καὶ ἐγένετο, τί ὄφελος αὐτοῦ;

[34] τίς δὲ χρῆσις τῶν βραχιόνων τῶν ἐκείνου καὶ τῆς ἄλλης ἀλκῆς καὶ καρτερίας καὶ γενναιότητος, εἰ μὴ τοιαῦταί τινες αὐτὸν περιστάσεις καὶ ὗλαι διέσεισαν καὶ ἐγύμνασαν;

[35] τί οὖν; αὑτῷ ταύτας ἔδει κατασκευάζειν καὶ ζητεῖν ποθεν λέοντα εἰσαγαγεῖν εἰς τὴν χώραν τὴν αὑτοῦ καὶ σῦν καὶ ὕδραν;

[36] μωρία τοῦτο καὶ μανία. γενόμενα δὲ καὶ εὑρεθέντα εὔχρηστα ἦν πρὸς τὸ δεῖξαι καὶ γυμνάσαι τὸν Ἡρακλέα.

[37] ἄγε οὖν καὶ σὺ τούτων αἰσθόμενος ἀπόβλεψον εἰς τὰς δυνάμεις ἃς ἔχεις καὶ ἀπιδὼν εἰπὲ φέρε νῦν, ὦ Ζεῦ, ἣν θέλεις περίστασιν· ἔχω γὰρ παρασκευὴν ἐκ σοῦ μοι δεδομένην καὶ ἀφορμὰς πρὸς τὸ κοσμῆσαι διὰ τῶν ἀποβαινόντων ἐμαυτόν

[38] οὔ· ἀλλὰ κάθησθε τὰ μὲν μὴ συμβῇ τρέμοντες, τῶν δὲ συμβαινόντων ὀδυρόμενοι καὶ πενθοῦντες καὶ στένοντες· εἶτα τοῖς θεοῖς ἐγκαλεῖτε.

[39] τί γάρ ἐστιν ἄλλο ἀκόλουθον τῇ τοιαύτῃ ἀγεννείᾳ ἢ καὶ ἀσέβεια;

[40] καίτοι ὅ γε θεὸς οὐ μόνον ἔδωκεν ἡμῖν τὰς δυνάμεις ταύτας, καθʼ ἃς οἴσομεν πᾶν τὸ ἀποβαῖνον μὴ ταπεινούμενοι μηδὲ συγκλώμενοι ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ, ἀλλʼ ὃ ἦν ἀγαθοῦ βασιλέως καὶ ταῖς ἀληθείαις πατρός, ἀκώλυτον τοῦτο ἔδωκεν, ἀνανάγκαστον, ἀπαραπόδιστον, ὅλον αὐτὸ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἐποίησεν οὐδʼ αὑτῷ τινα πρὸς τοῦτο ἰσχὺν ἀπολιπών, ὥστε κωλῦσαι ἢ ἐμποδίσαι.

[41] ταῦτα ἔχοντες ἐλεύθερα καὶ ὑμέτερα μὴ χρῆσθε αὐτοῖς μηδʼ αἰσθάνεσθε τίνα εἰλήφατε καὶ παρὰ τίνος,

[42] ἀλλὰ κάθησθε πενθοῦντες καὶ στένοντες οἱ μὲν πρὸς αὐτὸν τὸν δόντα ἀποτετυφλωμένοι μηδʼ ἐπιγινώσκοντες τὸν εὐεργέτην, οἱ δʼ ὑπʼ ἀγεννείας εἰς μέμψεις καὶ τὰ ἐγκλήματα τῷ θεῷ ἐκτρεπόμενοι.

[43] καίτοι πρὸς μεγαλοψυχίαν μὲν καὶ ἀνδρείαν ἐγὼ σοὶ δείξω ὅτι ἀφορμὰς καὶ παρασκευὴν ἔχεις, πρὸς δὲ τὸ μέμφεσθαι καὶ ἐγκαλεῖν ποίας ἀφορμὰς ἔχεις σὺ δʼ ἐμοὶ δείκνυε.

περὶ τῆς χρείας τῶν μεταπιπτόντων καὶ ὑποθετικῶν καὶ τῶν ὁμοίων.

[1] ἡ περὶ τοὺς μεταπίπτοντας καὶ ὑποθετικούς, ἔτι δὲ ἠρωτῆσθαι περαίνοντας καὶ πάντας ἁπλῶς τοὺς τοιούτους λόγους πραγματεία λανθάνει τοὺς πολλοὺς περὶ καθήκοντος οὖσα.

[2] ζητοῦμεν γὰρ ἐπὶ πάσης ὕλης πῶς ἂν εὕρ οοι ὁ καλὸς καὶ ἀγαθὸς τὴν διέξοδον καὶ ἀναστροφὴν τὴν ἐν αὐτῇ καθήκουσαν.

[3] οὐκοῦν ἢ τοῦτο λεγέτωσαν, ὅτι οὐ συγκαθήσει εἰς ἐρώτησιν καὶ ἀπόκρισιν ὁ σπουδαῖος ἢ ὅτι συγκαθεὶς οὐκ ἐπιμελήσεται τοῦ μὴ εἰκῇ μηδʼ ὡς ἔτυχεν ἐν ἐρωτήσει καὶ ἀποκρίσει ἀναστρέφεσθαι,

[4] μἢ τούτων μηδέτερον προσδεχομένοις ἀναγκαῖον ὁμολογεῖν, ὅτι ἐπίσκεψίν τινα ποιητέον τῶν τόπων τούτων, περὶ οὓς μάλιστα στρέφεται ἐρώτησις καὶ ἀπόκρισις.

[5] τί γὰρ ἐπαγγέλλεται ἐν λόγῳ; τἀληθῆ τιθέναι, τὰ ψευδῆ αἴρειν, πρὸς τὰ ἄδηλα ἐπέχειν.

[6] ἆρʼ οὖν ἀρκεῖ τοῦτο μόνον μαθεῖν; — ἀρκεῖ, φησίν. — οὐκοῦν καὶ τῷ βουλομένῳ ἐν χρήσει νομίσματος μὴ διαπίπτειν ἀρκεῖ τοῦτο ἀκοῦσαι, διὰ τί τὰς μὲν δοκίμους δραχμὰς παραδέχῃ, τὰς δʼ ἀδοκίμους ἀποδοκιμάζεις;

[7] — οὐκ ἀρκεῖ. — τί οὖν δεῖ τούτῳ προσλαβεῖν; τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἢ δύναμιν δοκιμαστικήν τε καὶ διακριτικὴν τῶν δοκίμων τε καὶ ἀδοκίμων δραχμῶν;

[8] οὐκοῦν καὶ ἐπὶ λόγου οὐκ ἀρκεῖ τὸ λεχθέν, ἀλλʼ ἀνάγκη δοκιμαστικὸν γενέσθαι καὶ διακριτικὸν τοῦ ἀληθοῦς καὶ τοῦ ψεύδους καὶ τοῦ ἀδήλου;

[9] — ἀνάγκη. — ἐπὶ τούτοις τί παραγγέλλεται ἐν λόγῳ; τὸ ἀκόλουθον τοῖς δοθεῖσιν ὑπὸ σοῦ καλῶς παραδέχου.

[10] ἄγε ἀρκεῖ οὖν κἀνταῦθα γνῶναι τοῦτο; οὐκ ἀρκεῖ, δεῖ δὲ μαθεῖν πῶς τί τισιν ἀκόλουθον γίνεται καὶ ποτὲ μὲν ἓν ἑνὶ ἀκολουθεῖ, ποτὲ δὲ πλείοσιν κοινῇ.

[11] μή ποτε οὖν καὶ τοῦτο ἀνάγκη προσλαβεῖν τὸν μέλλοντα ἐν λόγῳ συνετῶς ἀναστραφήσεσθαι καὶ αὐτόν τʼ ἀποδείξειν ἕκαστα ἀποδόντα καὶ τοῖς ἀποδεικνύουσι παρακολουθήσειν μηδʼ ὑπὸ τῶν σοφιζομένων διαπλανηθήσεσθαι ὡς ἀποδεικνυόντων;

[12] οὐκοῦν ἐλήλυθεν ἡμῖν περὶ τῶν συναγόντων λόγων καὶ τρόπων πραγματεία καὶ γυμνασία καὶ ἀναγκαία πέφηνεν.

[13] ἀλλὰ δὴ ἔστιν ἐφʼ ὧν δεδώκαμεν ὑγιῶς τὰ λήμματα καὶ συμβαίνει τουτὶ ἐξ αὐτῶν· ψεῦδος δὲ ὂν οὐδὲν ἧττον συμβαίνει.

[14] τί οὖν μοι καθήκει ποιεῖν; προσδέχεσθαι τὸ ψεῦδος;

[15] καὶ πῶς οἷόν τʼ; ἀλλὰ λέγειν ὅτι οὐχ ὑγιῶς παρεχώρησα τὰ ὡμολογημένα; καὶ μὴν οὐδὲ τοῦτο δίδοται. ἀλλʼ ὅτι οὐ συμβαίνει διὰ τῶν παρακεχωρημένων; ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ τοῦτο δίδοται.

[16] τί οὖν ἐπὶ τούτων ποιητέον; ἢ μή ποτε ὡς οὐκ ἀρκεῖ τὸ δανείσασθαι πρὸς τὸ ἔτι ὀφείλειν, ἀλλὰ δεῖ προσεῖναι καὶ τὸ ἐπιμένειν ἐπὶ τοῦ δανείου καὶ μὴ διαλελύσθαι αὐτό, οὕτως οὐκ ἀρκεῖ πρὸς τὸ δεῖν παραχωρεῖν τὸ ἐπιφερόμενον τὸ δεδωκέναι τὰ λήμματα, δεῖ δʼ ἐπιμένειν ἐπὶ τῆς παραχωρήσεως αὐτῶν.

[17] καὶ δὴ μενόντων μὲν αὐτῶν εἰς τέλος ὁποῖα παρεχωρήθη πᾶσα ἀνάγκη ἡμᾶς ἐπὶ τῆς παραχωρήσεως ἐπιμένειν καὶ τὸ ἀκόλουθον αὐτοῖς προσδέχεσθαι

[19] οὐδὲ γὰρ ἡμῖν ἔτι οὐδὲ καθʼ ἡμᾶς συμβαίνει τοῦτο τὸ ἐπιφερόμενον, ἐπειδὴ τῆς συγχωρήσεως τῶν λημμάτων ἀπέστημεν.

[20] δεῖ οὖν καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα τῶν λημμάτων ἱστορῆσαι καὶ τὴν τοιαύτην μεταβολήν τε καὶ μετάπτωσιν αὐτῶν, καθʼ ἣν ἐν αὐτῇ τῇ ἐρωτήσει ἢ τῇ ἀποκρίσει ἢ τῷ συλλελογίσθαι ἤ τινι ἄλλῳ τοιούτῳ λαμβάνοντα τὰς μεταπτώσεις ἀφορμὴν παρέχει τοῖς ἀνοήτοις τοῦ ταράσσεσθαι μὴ βλέπουσι τὸ ἀκόλουθον. τίνος ἕνεκα;

[21] ἵνʼ ἐν τῷ τόπῳ τούτῳ μὴ παρὰ τὸ καθῆκον μηδʼ εἰκῇ μηδὲ συγκεχυμένως ἀναστρεφώμεθα.

[22] καὶ τὸ αὐτὸ ἐπί τε τῶν ὑποθέσεων καὶ τῶν ὑποθετικῶν λόγων. ἀναγκαῖον γὰρ ἔστιν ὅτʼ αἰτῆσαί τινα ὑπόθεσιν ὥσπερ ἐπιβάθραν τῷ ἑξῆς λόγῳ.

[23] πᾶσαν οὖν τὴν δοθεῖσαν παραχωρητέον ἢ οὐ πᾶσαν; καὶ εἰ οὐ πᾶσαν, τίνα;

[24] περὶ τίνος ἡ σκέψις; περὶ καθήκοντος. παραχωρήσαντι δὲ μενετέον εἰς ἅπαν ἐπὶ τῆς τηρήσεως ἢ ἔστιν ὅτε ἀποστατέον, τὰ δʼ ἀκόλουθα προσδεκτέον καὶ τὰ μαχόμενα οὐ προσδεκτέον;

[25] — ναί. — ἀλλὰ λέγει τις ὅτι ποιήσω σε δυνατοῦ δεξάμενον ὑπόθεσιν ἐπʼ ἀδύνατον ἀπαχθῆναι. πρὸς τοῦτον οὐ συγκαθήσει ὁ φρόνιμος, ἀλλὰ φεύξεται ἐξέτασιν καὶ κοινολογίαν;

[26] καὶ τίς ἔτι ἄλλος ἐστὶ λόγῳ χρηστικὸς καὶ δεινὸς ἐρωτήσει καὶ ἀποκρίσει καὶ νὴ Δία ἀνεξαπάτητός τε καὶ ἀσόφιστος;

[27] ἀλλὰ συγκαθήσει μέν, οὐκ ἐπιστραφήσεται δὲ τοῦ μὴ εἰκῇ καὶ ὡς ἔτυχεν ἀναστρέφεσθαι ἐν λόγῳ; καὶ πῶς ἔτι ἔσται τοιοῦτος οἷον αὐτὸν ἐπινοοῦμεν;

[28] ἀλλʼ ἄνευ τινὸς τοιαύτης γυμνασίας καὶ παρασκευῆς φυλάττειν οἷός τʼ ἐστὶ τὸ ἑξῆς;

[29] τοῦτο δεικνύτωσαν καὶ παρέλκει τὰ θεωρήματα ταῦτα πάντα, ἄτοπα ἦν καὶ ἀνακόλουθα τῇ προλήψει τοῦ σπουδαίου.

[30] τί ἔτι ἀργοὶ καὶ ῥᾴθυμοι καὶ νωθροί ἐσμεν καὶ προφάσεις ζητοῦμεν, καθʼ ἃς οὐ πονήσομεν οὐδʼ ἀγρυπνήσομεν ἐξεργαζόμενοι τὸν αὑτῶν λόγον;

[31] — ἂν οὖν ἐν τούτοις πλανηθῶ, μή τι τὸν πατέρα ἀπέκτεινα; — ἀνδράποδον, ποῦ γὰρ ἐνθάδε πατὴρ ἦν, ἵνʼ αὐτὸν ἀποκτείνῃς; τί οὖν ἐποίησας; ὃ μόνον ἦν κατὰ τὸν τόπον ἁμάρτημα, τοῦτο ἡμάρτηκας.

[32] ἐπεί τοι τοῦτʼ αὐτὸ καὶ ἐγὼ Ῥούφῳ εἶπον ἐπιτιμῶντί μοι ὅτι τὸ παραλειπόμενον ἓν ἐν συλλογισμῷ τινι οὐχ εὕρισκον. οὐχ οἷον μέν, φημί, εἰ τὸ Καπιτώλιον κατέκαυσα, ὁ δʼ ἀνδράποδον, ἔφη, ἐνθάδε τὸ παραλειπόμενον Καπιτώλιόν ἐστιν.

[33] ἢ ταῦτα μόνα ἁμαρτήματά ἐστι τὸ Καπιτώλιον ἐμπρῆσαι καὶ τὸν πατέρα ἀποκτεῖναι, τὸ δʼ εἰκῇ καὶ μάτην καὶ ὡς ἔτυχεν χρῆσθαι ταῖς φαντασίαις ταῖς αὑτοῦ καὶ μὴ παρακολουθεῖν λόγῳ μηδʼ ἀποδείξει μηδὲ σοφίσματι μηδʼ ἁπλῶς βλέπειν τὸ καθʼ αὑτὸν καὶ οὐ καθʼ αὑτὸν ἐν ἐρωτήσει καὶ ἀποκρίσει, τούτων δʼ οὐδέν ἐστιν ἁμάρτημα;

ὅτι αἱ δυνάμεις τοῖς ἀπαιδεύτοις οὐκ ἀσφαλεῖς.

[1] καθʼ ὅσους τρόπους μεταλαμβάνειν ἔστι τὰ ἰσοδυναμοῦντα ἀλλήλοις, κατὰ τοσούτους καὶ τὰ εἴδη τῶν ἐπιχειρημάτων τε καὶ ἐνθυμημάτων ἐν τοῖς λόγοις ἐκποιεῖ μεταλαμβάνειν.

[2] οἷον φέρε τὸν τρόπον τοῦτον· εἰ ἐδανείσω καὶ μὴ ἀπέδωκας, ὀφείλεις μοι τὸ ἀργύριον· οὐχὶ ἐδανείσω μὲν καὶ οὐκ ἀπέδωκας· οὐ μὴν ὀφείλεις μοι τὸ ἀργύριον.

[3] καὶ τοῦτο οὐδενὶ μᾶλλον προσήκει ἢ τῷ φιλοσόφῳ ἐμπείρως ποιεῖν. εἴπερ γὰρ ἀτελὴς συλλογισμός ἐστι τὸ ἐνθύμημα, δῆλον ὅτι ὁ περὶ τὸν τέλειον συλλογισμὸν γεγυμνασμένος οὗτος ἂν ἱκανὸς εἴη καὶ περὶ τὸν ἀτελῆ οὐδὲν ἧττον.

[4] τί ποτʼ οὖν οὐ γυμνάζομεν αὑτούς τε καὶ ἀλλήλους τὸν τρόπον τοῦτον;

[5] ὅτι νῦν καίτοι μὴ γυμναζόμενοι περὶ ταῦτα μηδʼ ἀπὸ τῆς ἐπιμελείας τοῦ ἤθους ὑπό γε ἐμοῦ περισπώμενοι ὅμως οὐδὲν ἐπιδίδομεν εἰς καλοκἀγαθίαν.

[6] τί οὖν χρὴ προσδοκᾶν, εἰ καὶ ταύτην τὴν ἀσχολίαν προσλάβοιμεν; καὶ μάλισθʼ, ὅτι οὐ μόνον ἀσχολία τις ἀπὸ τῶν ἀναγκαιοτέρων αὐτὴ προσγένοιτʼ ἄν, ἀλλὰ καὶ οἰήσεως ἀφορμὴ καὶ τύφου οὐχ ἡ τυχοῦσα.

[7] μεγάλη γάρ ἐστι δύναμις ἡ ἐπιχειρητικὴ καὶ πιθανολογική, καὶ μάλιστʼ εἰ τύχοι γυμνασίας ἐπιπλέον καί τινα καὶ εὐπρέπειαν ἀπὸ τῶν ὀνομάτων προσλάβοι.

[8] ὅτι καὶ ἐν τῷ καθόλου πᾶσα δύναμις ἐπισφαλὴς τοῖς ἀπαιδεύτοις καὶ ἀσθενέσι προσγενομένη πρὸς τὸ ἐπᾶραι καὶ χαυνῶσαι ἐπʼ αὐτῇ.

[9] ποίᾳ γὰρ ἄν τις ἔτι μηχανῇ πείσαι τὸν νέον τὸν ἐν τούτοις διαφέροντα, ὅτι οὐ δεῖ προσθήκην αὐτὸν ἐκείνων γενέσθαι, ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνα αὐτῷ προσθεῖναι;

[10] οὐχὶ δὲ πάντας τοὺς λόγους τούτους καταπατήσας ἐπηρμένος ἡμῖν καὶ πεφυσημένος περιπατεῖ μηδʼ ἀνεχόμενος, ἄν τις ἅπτηται τι αὐτοῦ ὑπομιμνῄσκων, τίνος ἀπολελειμμένος ποῦ ἀποκέκλικεν;

[11] τί οὖν; Πλάτων φιλόσοφος οὐκ ἦν; — Ἱπποκράτης γὰρ ἰατρὸς οὐκ ἦν; ἀλλʼ ὁρᾷς πῶς φράζει Ἱπποκράτης. μή τι οὖν Ἱπποκράτης οὕτω φράζει, καθὸ ἰατρός ἐστιν;

[12] τί οὖν μιγνύεις πράγματα ἄλλως ἐπὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἀνθρώπων συνδραμόντα;

[13] εἰ δὲ καλὸς ἦν Πλάτων καὶ ἰσχυρός, ἔδει κἀμὲ καθήμενον ἐκπονεῖν, ἵνα καλὸς γένωμαι ἢ ἵνα ἰσχυρός, ὡς τοῦτο ἀναγκαῖον πρὸς φιλοσοφίαν, ἐπεί τις φιλόσοφος ἅμα καὶ καλὸς ἦν καὶ φιλόσοφος;

[14] οὐ θέλεις αἰσθάνεσθαι καὶ διακρῖναι κατὰ τί οἱ ἄνθρωποι γίνονται φιλόσοφοι καὶ τίνα ἄλλως αὐτοῖς πάρεστιν; ἄγε εἰ δʼ ἐγὼ φιλόσοφος ἤμην, ἔδει ὑμᾶς καὶ χωλοὺς γενέσθαι; τί οὖν;

[15] αἴρω τὰς δυνάμεις ταύτας; μὴ γένοιτο· οὐδὲ γὰρ τὴν ὁρατικήν.

[16] ὅμως δʼ, ἄν μου πυνθάνῃ τί ἐστιν ἀγαθὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, οὐκ ἔχω σοι ἄλλο εἰπεῖν ἢ ὅτι ποιὰ προαίρεσις φαντασιῶν.

πῶς ἀπὸ τοῦ συγγενεῖς ἡμᾶς εἶναι τῷ θεῷ ἐπέλθοι ἄν τις ἐπὶ τὰ ἑξῆς.

[1] εἰ ταῦτά ἐστιν ἀληθῆ τὰ περὶ τῆς συγγενείας τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ ἀνθρώπων λεγόμενα ὑπὸ τῶν φιλοσόφων, τί ἄλλο ἀπολείπεται τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ἢ τὸ τοῦ Σωκράτους, μηδέποτε πρὸς τὸν πυθόμενον ποδαπός ἐστιν εἰπεῖν ὅτι Ἀθηναῖος ἢ Κορίνθιος, ἀλλʼ ὅτι κόσμιος;

[2] διὰ τί γὰρ λέγεις Ἀθηναῖον εἶναι σεαυτόν, οὐχὶ δʼ ἐξ ἐκείνης μόνον τῆς γωνίας, εἰς ἣν ἐρρίφη γεννηθέν σου τὸ σωμάτιον;

[3] ἢ δῆλον ὅτι ἀπὸ τοῦ κυριωτέρου καὶ περιέχοντος οὐ μόνον αὐτὴν ἐκείνην τὴν γωνίαν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὅλην σου τὴν οἰκίαν καὶ ἁπλῶς ὅθεν σου τὸ γένος τῶν προγόνων εἰς σὲ κατελήλυθεν ἐντεῦθέν ποθεν καλεῖς σεαυτὸν Ἀθηναῖον καὶ Κορίνθιον;

[4] ὁ τοίνυν τῇ διοικήσει τοῦ κόσμου παρηκολουθηκὼς καὶ μεμαθηκώς, ὅτι τὸ μέγιστον καὶ κυριώτατον καὶ περιεκτικώτατον πάντων τοῦτό ἐστι τὸ σύστημα τὸ ἐξ ἀνθρώπων καὶ θεοῦ, ἀπʼ ἐκείνου δὲ τὰ σπέρματα καταπέπτωκεν οὐκ εἰς τὸν πατέρα τὸν ἐμὸν μόνον οὐδʼ εἰς τὸν πάππον, ἀλλʼ εἰς ἅπαντα μὲν τὰ ἐπὶ γῆς γεννώμενά τε καὶ φυόμενα, προηγουμένως δʼ εἰς τὰ λογικά,

[5] ὅτι κοινωνεῖν μόνον ταῦτα πέφυκεν τῷ θεῷ τῆς συναναστροφῆς κατὰ τὸν λόγον ἐπι πεπλεγμένα,

[6] διὰ τί μὴ εἴπῃ τις αὑτὸν κόσμιον; διὰ τί μὴ υἱὸν τοῦ θεοῦ; διὰ τί δὲ φοβηθήσεταί τι τῶν γιγνομένων ἐν ἀνθρώποις;

[7] ἀλλὰ πρὸς μὲν τὸν Καίσαρα ἡ συγγένεια ἢ ἄλλον τινὰ τῶν μέγα δυναμένων ἐν Ῥώμῃ ἱκανὴ παρέχειν ἐν ἀσφαλείᾳ διάγοντας καὶ ἀκαταφρονήτους καὶ δεδοικότας μηδʼ ὁτιοῦν, τὸ δὲ τὸν θεὸν ποιητὴν ἔχειν καὶ πατέρα καὶ κηδεμόνα οὐκέτι ἡμᾶς ἐξαιρήσεται λυπῶν καὶ φόβων;

[8] — καὶ πόθεν φάγω, φησίν, μηδὲν ἔχων; — καὶ πῶς οἱ δοῦλοι, πῶς οἱ δραπέται, τίνι πεποιθότες ἐκεῖνοι ἀπαλλάττονται τῶν δεσποτῶν; τοῖς ἀγροῖς. ἢ τοῖς οἰκέταις ἢ τοῖς ἀργυρώμασιν; οὐδενί, ἀλλʼ ἑαυτοῖς· καὶ ὅμως οὐκ ἐπιλείπουσιν αὐτοὺς τροφαί.

[9] τὸν δὲ φιλόσοφον ἡμῖν δεήσει ἄλλοις θαρροῦντα καὶ ἐπαναπαυόμενον ἀποδημεῖν καὶ μὴ ἐπιμελεῖσθαι αὐτὸν αὑτοῦ καὶ τῶν θηρίων τῶν ἀλόγων εἶναι χείρονα καὶ δειλότερον, ὧν ἕκαστον αὐτὸ αὑτῷ ἀρκούμενον οὔτε τροφῆς ἀπορεῖ τῆς οἰκείας οὔτε διεξαγωγῆς τῆς καταλλήλου ς καὶ κατὰ φύσιν;

[10] ἐγὼ μὲν οἶμαι, ὅτι ἔδει καθῆσθαι τὸν πρεσβύτερον ἐνταῦθα οὐ τοῦτο μηχανώμενον, ὅπως μὴ ταπεινοφρονήσητε μηδὲ ταπεινοὺς μηδʼ ἀγεννεῖς τινας διαλογισμοὺς διαλογιεῖσθε αὐτοὶ περὶ ἑαυτῶν,

[11] ἀλλὰ μή τινες ἐμπίπτωσιν τοιοῦτοι νέοι, οἳ ἐπιγνόντες τὴν πρὸς τοὺς θεοὺς συγγένειαν καὶ ὅτι δεσμά τινα ταῦτα προσηρτήμεθα τὸ σῶμα καὶ τὴν κτῆσιν αὐτοῦ καὶ ὅσα τούτων ἕνεκα ἀναγκαῖα ἡμῖν γίνεται εἰς οἰκονομίαν καὶ ἀναστροφὴν τὴν ἐν τῷ βίῳ, ὡς βάρη τινὰ καὶ ἀνιαρὰ καὶ ἄχρηστα ἀπορρῖψαι θέλωσιν καὶ ἀπελθεῖν πρὸς τοὺς συγγενεῖς.

[12] καὶ τοῦτον ἔδει τὸν ἀγῶνα ἀγωνίζεσθαι τὸν διδάσκαλον ὑμῶν καὶ παιδευτήν, εἴ τις ἄρα ἦν· ὑμᾶς μὲν ἔρχεσθαι λέγοντας Ἐπίκτητε, οὐκέτι ἀνεχόμεθα μετὰ τοῦ σωματίου τούτου δεδεμένοι καὶ τοῦτο τρέφοντες καὶ ποτίζοντες καὶ ἀναπαύοντες καὶ καθαίροντες, εἶτα διʼ αὐτὸ συμπεριφερόμενοι τοῖσδε καὶ τοῖσδε.

[13] οὐκ ἀδιάφορα ταῦτα καὶ οὐδὲν πρὸς ἡμᾶς καὶ ὁ θάνατος οὐ κακόν; καὶ συγγενεῖς τινες τοῦ θεοῦ ἐσμεν κἀκεῖθεν ἐληλύθαμεν;

[14] ἄφες ἡμᾶς ἀπελθεῖν ὅθεν ἐληλύθαμεν, ἄφες λυθῆναί ποτε τῶν δεσμῶν τούτων τῶν ἐξηρτημένων καὶ βαρούντων.

[15] ἐνταῦθα λῃσταὶ καὶ κλέπται καὶ δικαστήρια καὶ οἱ καλούμενοι τύραννοι δοκοῦντες ἔχειν τινὰ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἐξουσίαν διὰ τὸ σωμάτιον καὶ τὰ τούτου κτήματα. ἄφες δείξωμεν αὐτοῖς, ὅτι οὐδενὸς ἔχουσιν ἐξουσίαν·

[16] ἐμὲ δʼ ἐν τῷδε λέγειν ὅτι ἄνθρωποι, ἐκδέξασθε τὸν θεόν. ὅταν ἐκεῖνος σημήνῃ καὶ ἀπολύσῃ ὑμᾶς ταύτης τῆς ὑπηρεσίας, τότʼ ἀπολύεσθε πρὸς αὐτόν· ἐπὶ δὲ τοῦ παρόντος ἀνάσχεσθε ἐνοικοῦντες ταύτην τὴν χώραν, εἰς ἣν ἐκεῖνος ὑμᾶς ἔταξεν.

[17] ὀλίγος ἄρα χρόνος οὗτος ὁ τῆς οἰκήσεως καὶ ῥᾴδιος τοῖς οὕτω διακειμένοις. ποῖος γὰρ ἔτι τύραννος ἢ ποῖος κλέπτης ἢ ποῖα δικαστήρια φοβερὰ τοῖς οὕτως παρʼ οὐδὲν πεποιημένοις τὸ σῶμα καὶ τὰ τούτου κτήματα; μείνατε, μὴ ἀλογίστως ἀπέλθητε.

[18] τοιοῦτόν τι ἔδει γίνεσθαι παρὰ τοῦ παιδευτοῦ πρὸς τοὺς εὐφυεῖς τῶν νέων.

[19] νῦν δὲ τί γίνεται; νεκρὸς μὲν ὁ παιδευτής, νεκροὶ δʼ ὑμεῖς. ὅταν χορτασθῆτε σήμερον, κάθησθε κλάοντες περὶ τῆς αὔριον, πόθεν φάγητε.

[20] ἀνδράποδον, ἂν σχῇς, ἕξεις· ἂν μὴ σχῇς, ἐξελεύσῃ· ἤνοικται ἡ θύρα. τί πενθεῖς; ποῦ ἔτι τόπος δακρύοις; τίς ἔτι κολακείας ἀφορμή; διὰ τί ἄλλος ἄλλῳ φθονήσει; διὰ τί πολλὰ κεκτημένους θαυμάσει ἢ τοὺς ἐν δυνάμει τεταγμένους, μάλιστʼ ἂν καὶ ἰσχυροὶ ὦσιν καὶ ὀργίλοι;

[21] τί γὰρ ἡμῖν ποιήσουσιν; ἃ δύνανται ποιῆσαι, τούτων οὐκ ἐπιστρεψόμεθα· ὧν ἡμῖν μέλει, ταῦτα οὐ δύνανται. τίς οὖν ἔτι ἄρξει τοῦ οὕτως διακειμένου;

[22] πῶς Σωκράτης εἶχεν πρὸς ταῦτα; πῶς γὰρ ἄλλως ἢ ὡς ἔδει τὸν πεπεισμένον ὅτι ἐστὶ τῶν θεῶν συγγενής;

[23] ἄν μοι λέγητε, φησίν, νῦν ὅτι ἀφίεμέν σε ἐπὶ τούτοις, ὅπως μηκέτι διαλέξῃ τούτους τοὺς λόγους οὓς μέχρι νῦν διελέγου μηδὲ παρενοχλήσεις ἡμῶν τοῖς νέοις μηδὲ τοῖς γέρουσιν,

[24] ἀποκρινοῦμαι ὅτι γελοῖοί ἐστε, οἵτινες ἀξιοῦτε, εἰ μέν με ὁ στρατηγὸς ὁ ὑμέτερος ἔταξεν εἴς τινα τάξιν, ὅτι ἔδει με τηρεῖν αὐτὴν καὶ φυλάττειν καὶ μυριάκις πρότερον αἱρεῖσθαι ἀποθνῄσκειν ἢ ἐγκαταλιπεῖν αὐτήν, εἰ δʼ ὁ θεὸς ἔν τινι χώρᾳ καὶ ἀναστροφῇ κατατέταχεν, ταύτην δʼ ἐγκαταλιπεῖν δεῖ ἡμᾶς.

[25] τοῦτʼ ἔστιν ἄνθρωπος ταῖς ἀληθείαις συγγενὴς τῶν θεῶν.

[26] ἡμεῖς οὖν ὡς κοιλίαι, ὡς ἔντερα, ὡς αἰδοῖα, οὕτω περὶ αὑτῶν διανοούμεθα, ὅτι φοβούμεθα, ὅτι ἐπιθυμοῦμεν· τοὺς εἰς ταῦτα συνεργεῖν δυναμένους κολακεύομεν, τοὺς αὐτοὺς τούτους δεδοίκαμεν.

[27] ἐμέ τις ἠξίωκεν ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ γράψαι εἰς τὴν Ῥώμην ὡς ἐδόκει τοῖς πολλοῖς ἠτυχηκὼς καὶ πρότερον μὲν ἐπιφανὴς ὢν καὶ πλούσιος, ὕστερον δʼ ἐκπεπτωκὼς ἁπάντων καὶ διάγων ἐνταῦθα.

[28] κἀγὼ ἔγραψα ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ ταπεινῶς. ὁ δʼ ἀναγνοὺς τὴν ἐπιστολὴν ἀπέδωκέν μοι αὐτὴν καὶ ἔφη ὅτι ἐγὼ βοηθηθῆναί τι ὑπὸ σοῦ ἤθελον, οὐχὶ ἐλεηθῆναι· κακὸν δέ μοι οὐθέν ἐστιν.

[29] οὕτως καὶ Ῥοῦφος πειράζων μʼ εἰώθει λέγειν συμβήσεταί σοι τοῦτο καὶ τοῦτο ὑπὸ τοῦ δεσπότου.

[30] κἀμοῦ πρὸς αὐτὸν ἀποκριναμένου ὅτι ἀνθρώπινα τί οὖν ἔτι ἐκεῖνον παρακαλῶ παρὰ σοῦ αὐτὰ λαβεῖν δυνάμενος;

[31] τῷ γὰρ ὄντι, ὃ ἐξ αὑτοῦ τις ἔχει, περισσὸς καὶ μάταιος παρʼ ἄλλου λαμβάνων.

[32] ἐγὼ οὖν ἔχων ἐξ ἐμαυτοῦ λαβεῖν τὸ μεγαλόψυχον καὶ γενναῖον, ἀγρὸν παρὰ σοῦ λάβω καὶ ἀργύριον ἢ ἀρχήν τινα; μὴ γένοιτο. οὐχ οὕτως ἀναίσθητος ἔσομαι τῶν ἐμῶν κτημάτων.

[33] ἀλλʼ ὅταν τις ᾖ δειλὸς καὶ ταπεινός, ὑπὲρ τούτου τί ἄλλο ἢ ἀνάγκη γράφειν ἐπιστολὰς ὡς ὑπὲρ νεκροῦ τὸ πτῶμα ἡμῖν χάρισαι τοῦ δεῖνος καὶ ξέστην αἱματίου;

[34] τῷ γὰρ ὄντι πτῶμα ὁ τοιοῦτός ἐστι καὶ ξέστης αἱματίου, πλέον δʼ οὐδέν. εἰ δʼ ἦν πλέον τι, ᾐσθάνετʼ ἄν, ὅτι ἄλλος διʼ ἄλλον οὐ δυστυχεῖ.

πρὸς τοὺς περὶ τὰς ἐν Ῥώμῃ προαγωγὰς ἐσπουδακότας.

[1] εἰ οὕτως σφοδρῶς συνετετά γμεθα περὶ τὸ ἔργον τὸ ἑαυτῶν ὡς οἱ ἐν Ῥώμῃ γέροντες περὶ ἃ ἐσπουδάκασιν, τάχα ἄν τι ἠνύομεν καὶ αὐτοί.

[2] οἶδα ἐγὼ πρεσβύτερον ἄνθρωπον ἐμοῦ τὸν νῦν ἐπὶ τοῦ σίτου ὄντα ἐν Ῥώμῃ, ὅτε ταύτῃ παρῆγεν ἀπὸ τῆς φυγῆς ἀναστρέφων, οἷα εἶπέν μοι, κατατρέχων τοῦ προτέρου ἑαυτοῦ βίου καὶ περὶ τῶν ἑξῆς ἐπαγγελλόμενος, ὅτι ἄλλο οὐδὲν ἀναβὰς σπουδάσει ἢ ἐν ἡσυχίᾳ καὶ ἀταραξίᾳ διεξαγαγεῖν τὸ λοιπὸν τοῦ βίου· πόσον γὰρ ἔτι ἐστὶν ἐμοὶ τὸ λοιπόν;

[3] — κἀγὼ ἔλεγον αὐτῷ ὅτι οὐ ποιήσεις, ἀλλʼ ὀσφρανθεὶς μόνον τῆς Ῥώμης ἁπάντων τούτων ἐπιλήσῃ. ἂν δὲ καὶ εἰς αὐλὴν πάροδός τις δίδωται, ὅτι χαίρων καὶ τῷ θεῷ εὐχαριστῶν ὤσεται.

[4] — ἄν μʼ εὕρῃς, ἔφη, Ἐπίκτητε, τὸν ἕτερον πόδα εἰς τὴν αὐλὴν τιθέντα, ὃ βούλει ὑπολάμβανε.

[5] νῦν οὖν τί ἐποίησεν; πρὶν ἐλθεῖν εἰς τὴν Ῥώμην, ἀπήντησαν αὐτῷ παρὰ Καίσαρος πινακίδες· ὁ δὲ λαβὼν πάντων ἐκείνων ἐξελάθετο καὶ λοιπὸν ἓν ἐξ ἑνὸς ἐπισεσώρευκεν.

[6] ἤθελον αὐτὸν νῦν παραστὰς ὑπομνῆσαι τῶν λόγων, οὓς ἔλεγεν παρερχόμενος, καὶ εἰπεῖν ὅτι πόσῳ σοῦ ἐγὼ κομψότερος μάντις εἰμί.

[7] τί οὖν; ἐγὼ λέγω, ὅτι ἄπρακτόν ἐστι τὸ ζῷον; μὴ γένοιτο. ἀλλὰ διὰ τί ἡμεῖς οὐκ ἐσμὲν πρακτικοί;

[8] εὐθὺς ἐγὼ πρῶτος, ὅταν ἡμέρα γένηται, μικρὰ ὑπομιμνῄσκομαι, τίνα ἐπαναγνῶναί με δεῖ. εἶτα εὐθὺς ἐμαυτῷ· τί δέ μοι καὶ μέλει πῶς ὁ δεῖνα ἀναγνῷ; πρῶτόν ἐστιν, ἵνα ἐγὼ κοιμηθῶ.

[9] καίτοι τί ὅμοια τὰ ἐκείνων πράγματα τοῖς ἡμετέροις; ἂν ἐπιστῆτε, τί ἐκεῖνοι ποιοῦσιν, αἰσθήσεσθε. τί γὰρ ἄλλο ἢ ὅλην τὴν ἡμέραν ψηφίζουσιν, συζητοῦσι, συμβουλεύουσι περὶ σιταρίου, περὶ ἀγριδίου, περί τινων προκοπῶν τοιούτων;

[10] ὅμοιον οὖν ἐστιν ἐντευξίδιον παρά τινος λαβόντα ἀναγιγνώσκειν παρακαλῶ σε ἐπιτρέψαι μοι σιτάριον ἐξαγαγεῖν ἢ παρακαλῶ σε παρὰ Χρυσίππου ἐπισκέψασθαι τίς ἐστιν ἡ τοῦ κόσμου διοίκησις καὶ ποίαν τινὰ χώραν ἐν αὐτῷ ἔχει τὸ λογικὸν ζῷον· ἐπίσκεψαι δὲ καὶ τίς εἶ σὺ καὶ ποῖόν τι σοῦ τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ κακόν;

[11] ταῦτα ἐκείνοις ὅμοιά ἐστιν; ἀλλʼ ὁμοίας σπουδῆς χρείαν ἔχοντα; ἀλλʼ ὡσαύτως ἀμελεῖν αἰσχρὸν τούτων κἀκείνων;

[12] τί οὖν; ἡμεῖς μόνοι ῥᾳθυμοῦμεν καὶ νυστάζομεν; οὔ· ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρότερον ὑμεῖς οἱ νέοι.

[13] ἐπεί τοι καὶ ἡμεῖς οἱ γέροντες, ὅταν παίζοντας ὁρῶμεν νέους, συμπροθυμούμεθα καὶ αὐτοὶ συμπαίζειν. πολὺ δὲ πλέον, εἰ ἑώρων διεγηγερμένους καὶ συμπροθυμουμένους, προεθυμούμην ἂν συσπουδάζειν καὶ αὐτός.

περὶ φιλοστοργίας.

[1] ἀφικομένου δέ τινος πρὸς αὐτὸν τῶν ἐν τέλει πυθόμενος παρʼ αὐτοῦ τὰ ἐπὶ μέρους ἠρώτησεν, εἰ καὶ τέκνα εἴη αὐτῷ καὶ γυνή.

[2] τοῦ δʼ ὁμολογήσαντος προσεπύθετο· πῶς τι οὖν χρῇ τῷ πράγματι; — ἀθλίως, ἔφη.

[3] — καὶ ὅς· τίνα τρόπον; οὐ γὰρ δὴ τούτου γʼ ἕνεκα γαμοῦσιν ἄνθρωποι καὶ παιδοποιοῦνται, ὅπως ἄθλιοι ὦσιν, ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ὅπως εὐδαίμονες.

[4] — ἀλλʼ ἐγώ, ἔφη, οὕτως ἀθλίως ἔχω περὶ τὰ παιδάρια, ὥστε πρῴην νοσοῦντός μου τοῦ θυγατρίου καὶ δόξαντος κινδυνεύειν οὐχ ὑπέμεινα οὐδὲ παρεῖναι αὐτῷ νοσοῦντι, φυγὼν δʼ ᾠχόμην, μέχρις οὗ προσήγγειλέ τις μοι ὅτι ἔχει καλῶς.

[5] — τί οὖν; ὀρθῶς φαίνει σαυτῷ ταῦτα πεποιηκέναι; — φυσικῶς, ἔφη. — ἀλλὰ μὴν τοῦτό με πεῖσον, ἔφη, σύ, διότι φυσικῶς, καὶ ἐγώ σε πείσω, ὅτι πᾶν τὸ κατὰ φύσιν γινόμενον ὀρθῶς γίνεται.

[6] — τοῦτο, ἔφη, πάντες ἢ οἵ γε πλεῖστοι πατέρες πάσχομεν. — οὐδʼ ἐγώ σοι ἀντιλέγω, ἔφη, ὅτι οὐ γίνεται, τὸ δʼ ἀμφισβητούμενον ἡμῖν ἐκεῖνό ἐστιν, εἰ ὀρθῶς.

[7] ἐπεὶ τούτου γʼ ἕνεκα καὶ τὰ φύματα δεῖ λέγειν ἐπʼ ἀγαθῷ γίνεσθαι τοῦ σώματος, ὅτι γίνεται, καὶ ἁπλῶς τὸ ἁμαρτάνειν εἶναι κατὰ φύσιν, ὅτι πάντες σχεδὸν ἢ οἵ γε πλεῖστοι ἁμαρτάνομεν.

[8] δεῖξον οὖν μοι σύ, πῶς κατὰ φύσιν ἐστίν. — οὐ δύναμαι, ἔφη· ἀλλὰ σύ μοι μᾶλλον δεῖξον, πῶς οὐκ ἔστι κατὰ φύσιν οὐδʼ ὀρθῶς γίνεται.

[9] — καὶ ὅς· ἀλλʼ εἰ ἐζητοῦμεν, ἔφη, περὶ λευκῶν καὶ μελάνων, ποῖον ἂν κριτήριον παρεκαλοῦμεν πρὸς διάγνωσιν αὐτῶν; — τὴν ὅρασιν, ἔφη. — τί δʼ εἰ περὶ θερμῶν καὶ ψυχρῶν καὶ σκληρῶν καὶ μαλακῶν, ποῖόν τι; — τὴν ἁφήν. —

[10] οὐκοῦν, ἐπειδὴ περὶ τῶν κατὰ φύσιν καὶ τῶν ὀρθῶς ἢ οὐκ ὀρθῶς γινομένων ἀμφισβητοῦμεν, ποῖον θέλεις κριτήριον παραλάβωμεν;

[11] — οὐκ οἶδʼ, ἔφη. — καὶ μὴν τὸ μὲν τῶν χρωμάτων καὶ ὀσμῶν, ἔτι δὲ χυλῶν κριτήριον ἀγνοεῖν τυχὸν οὐ μεγάλη ζημία, τὸ δὲ τῶν ἀγαθῶν καὶ τῶν κακῶν καὶ τῶν κατὰ φύσιν καὶ παρὰ φύσιν τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ δοκεῖ σοι μικρὰ ζημία εἶναι τῷ ἀγνοοῦντι;

[12] — ἡ μεγίστη μὲν οὖν. — φέρε, εἰπέ μοι, πάντα ἃ δοκεῖ τισιν εἶναι καλὰ καὶ προσήκοντα, ὀρθῶς δοκεῖ; καὶ νῦν Ἰουδαίοις καὶ Σύροις καὶ Αἰγυπτίοις καὶ Ῥωμαίοις οἷόν τε πάντα τὰ δοκοῦντα περὶ τροφῆς ὀρθῶς δοκεῖν;

[13] — καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε; — ἀλλʼ οἶμαι πᾶσα ἀνάγκη, εἰ ὀρθά ἐστι τὰ Αἰγυπτίων, μὴ ὀρθὰ εἶναι τὰ τῶν ἄλλων, εἰ καλῶς ἔχει τὰ Ἰουδαίων, μὴ καλῶς ἔχειν τὰ τῶν ἄλλων.

[14] — πῶς γὰρ οὔ; — ὅπου δʼ ἄγνοια, ἐκεῖ καὶ ἀμαθία καὶ ἡ περὶ τὰ ἀναγκαῖα ἀπαιδευσία.

[15] — συνεχώρει. — σὺ οὖν, ἔφη, τούτων αἰσθόμενος οὐδὲν ἄλλο τοῦ λοιποῦ σπουδάσεις οὐδὲ πρὸς ἄλλῳ τινὶ τὴν γνώμην. ἕξεις ἢ ὅπως τὸ κριτήριον τῶν κατὰ φύσιν καταμαθὼν τούτῳ προσχρώμενος διακρινεῖς τῶν ἐπὶ μέρους ἕκαστον.

[16] ἐπὶ δὲ τοῦ παρόντος τὰ τοσαῦτα ἔχω σοι πρὸς ὃ βούλει βοηθῆσαι.

[17] τὸ φιλόστοργον δοκεῖ σοι κατὰ φύσιν τʼ εἶναι καὶ καλόν; — πῶς γὰρ οὔ; — τί δέ; τὸ μὲν φιλόστοργον κατὰ φύσιν τʼ ἐστὶ καὶ καλόν, τὸ δʼ εὐλόγιστον οὐ καλόν;

[18] — οὐδαμῶς. — μὴ τοίνυν μάχην ἔχει τῷ φιλοστόργῳ τὸ εὐλόγιστον; — οὐ δοκεῖ μοι. — εἰ δὲ μή, τῶν μαχομένων ἀνάγκη θατέρου κατὰ φύσιν ὄντος θάτερον εἶναι παρὰ φύσιν; ἢ γὰρ οὔ; — οὕτως, ἔφη.

[19] — οὐκοῦν ὅ τι ἂν εὑρίσκωμεν ὁμοῦ μὲν φιλόστοργον ὁμοῦ δʼ εὐλόγιστον, τοῦτο θαρροῦντες ἀποφαινόμεθα ὀρθόν τε εἶναι καὶ καλόν;

[20] — ἔστω, ἔφη. — τί οὖν; ἀφεῖναι νοσοῦν τὸ παιδίον καὶ ἀφέντα ἀπελθεῖν ὅτι μὲν οὐκ εὐλόγιστον οὐκ οἶμαί σʼ ἀντερεῖν. ὑπολείπεται δʼ ἡμᾶς σκοπεῖν εἰ φιλόστοργον. — σκοπῶμεν δή. —

[21] ἆρʼ οὖν σὺ μὲν ἐπειδὴ φιλοστόργως διέκεισο πρὸς τὸ παιδίον, ὀρθῶς ἐποίεις φεύγων καὶ ἀπολείπων αὐτό; ἡ μήτηρ δʼ οὐ φιλοστοργεῖ τὸ παιδίον; — Φιλοστοργεῖ μὲν οὖν.

[22] — οὐκοῦν ἔδει καὶ τὴν μητέρα ἀφεῖναι αὐτὸ ἢ οὐκ ἔδει; — οὐκ ἔδει. — τί δʼ ἡ τιτθή; στέργει αὐτό; — στέργει, ἔφη. — ἔδει οὖν κἀκείνην ἀφεῖναι αὐτό; — οὐδαμῶς. — τί δʼ ὁ παιδαγωγός; οὐ στέργει αὐτό;

[23] — στέργει. — ἔδει οὖν κἀκεῖνον ἀφέντα ἀπελθεῖν, εἶθʼ οὕτως ἔρημον καὶ ἀβοήθητον ἀπολειφθῆναι τὸ παιδίον διὰ τὴν πολλὴν φιλοστοργίαν τῶν γονέων ὑμῶν καὶ τῶν περὶ αὐτὸ ἢ ἐν ταῖς χερσὶν τῶν οὔτε στεργόντων οὔτε κηδομένων ἀποθανεῖν; — μὴ γένοιτο.

[24] — καὶ μὴν ἐκεῖνό γε ἄνισον καὶ ἄγνωμον, ὅ τις αὑτῷ προσῆκον οἴεται διὰ τὸ φιλόστοργος εἶναι, τοῦτο τοῖς ὁμοίως φιλοστοργοῦσιν μὴ ἐφιέναι;

[25] — ἄτοπον. — ἄγε, σὺ δʼ ἂν νοσῶν ἠβούλου φιλοστόργους οὕτως ἔχειν τοὺς προσήκοντας τούς τʼ ἄλλους καὶ αὐτὰ τὰ τέκνα καὶ τὴν γυναῖκα, ὥστʼ ἀφεθῆναι μόνος ὑπʼ αὐτῶν καὶ ἔρημος;

[26] — οὐδαμῶς. — εὔξαιο δʼ ἂν οὕτως στερχθῆναι ὑπὸ τῶν σαυτοῦ, ὥστε διὰ τὴν ἄγαν αὐτῶν φιλοστοργίαν ἀεὶ μόνος ἀπολείπεσθαι ἐν ταῖς νόσοις, ἢ τούτου γʼ ἕνεκα μᾶλλον ἂν ὑπὸ τῶν ἐχθρῶν, εἰ δυνατὸν ἦν, φιλοστοργεῖσθαι ηὔχου, ὥστʼ ἀπολείπεσθαι ὑπʼ αὐτῶν; εἰ δὲ ταῦτα, ὑπολείπεται μηδαμῶς ἔτι φιλόστοργον εἶναι τὸ πραχθέν.

[27] τί οὖν; οὐδὲν ἦν τὸ κινῆσάν σε καὶ ἐξορμῆσαν πρὸς τὸ ἀφεῖναι τὸ παιδίον; καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε; ἀλλὰ τοιοῦτόν τι ἄν, οἷον καὶ ἐν Ῥώμῃ τινὰ ἦν τὸ κινοῦν, ὥστʼ ἐγκαλύπτεσθαι τοῦ ἵππου τρέχοντος ᾧ ἐσπουδάκει, εἶτα νικήσαντός ποτε παραλόγως σπόγγων δεῆσαι αὐτῷ πρὸς τὸ ἀναληφθῆναι λιποψυχοῦντα.

[28] τί οὖν τοῦτό ἐστιν; τὸ μὲν ἀκριβὲς οὐ τοῦ παρόντος καιροῦ τυχόν· ἐκεῖνο δʼ ἀπαρκεῖ πεισθῆναι, εἴπερ ὑγιές ἐστι τὸ ὑπὸ τῶν φιλοσόφων λεγόμενον, ὅτι οὐκ ἔξω που δεῖ ζητεῖν αὐτό, ἀλλʼ ἓν καὶ ταὐτόν ἐστιν ἐπὶ πάντων τὸ αἴτιον τοῦ ποιεῖν τι ἡμᾶς ἢ μὴ ποιεῖν, τοῦ λέγειν τινὰ ἢ μὴ λέγειν, τοῦ ἐπαίρεσθαι ἢ συστέλλεσθαι ἢ φεύγειν τινὰ ἢ διώκειν,

[29] τοῦθʼ ὅπερ καὶ νῦν ἐμοί τε καὶ σοὶ γέγονεν αἴτιον, σοὶ μὲν τοῦ ἐλθεῖν πρὸς ἐμὲ καὶ καθῆσθαι νῦν ἀκούοντα, ἐμοὶ δὲ τοῦ λέγειν ταῦτα.

[30] τί δʼ ἐστὶ τοῦτο; ἆρά γε ἄλλο ἢ ὅτι ἔδοξεν ἡμῖν; — οὐδέν. — εἰ δʼ ἄλλως ἡμῖν ἐφάνη, τί ἂν ἄλλο ἢ τὸ δόξαν ἐπράττομεν;

[31] οὐκ οὖν καὶ τῷ Ἀχιλλεῖ τοῦτο αἴτιον τοῦ πενθεῖν, οὐχ ὁ τοῦ Πατρόκλου θάνατος (ἄλλος γάρ τις οὐ πάσχει ταῦτα τοῦ ἑταίρου ἀποθανόντος)

[32] , ἀλλʼ ὅτι ἔδοξεν αὐτῷ. καὶ σοὶ τότε φεύγειν τοῦτο αὐτὸ ὅτι ἔδοξέν σοι· καὶ πάλιν, ἐὰν μείνῃς, ὅτι ἔδοξέν σοι. καὶ νῦν ἐν Ῥώμῃ ἀνέρχῃ, ὅτι δοκεῖ σοι· κἂν μεταδόξῃ, οὐκ ἂν ἀπελεύσῃ.

[33] καὶ ἁπλῶς οὔτε θάνατος οὔτε φυγὴ οὔτε πόνος οὔτε ἄλλο τι τῶν τοιούτων αἴτιόν ἐστι τοῦ πράττειν τι ἢ μὴ πράττειν ἡμᾶς, ἀλλʼ ὑπολήψεις καὶ δόγματα.

[34] τοῦτό σε πείθω ἢ οὐχί; — Πεί σθεις, ἔφη. — οἷα δὴ τὰ αἴτια ἐφʼ ἑκάστου, τοιαῦτα καὶ τὰ ἀποτελούμενα.

[35] οὐκοῦν ὅταν μὴ ὀρθῶς τι πράττωμεν, ἀπὸ ταύτης τῆς ἡμέρας οὐδὲν ἄλλο αἰτιασόμεθα ἢ τὸ δόγμα, ἀφʼ οὗ αὐτὸ ἐπράξαμεν, κἀκεῖνο ἐξαίρειν καὶ ἐκτέμνειν πειρασόμεθα μᾶλλον ἢ τὰ φύματα καὶ τὰ ἀποστήματα ἐκ τοῦ σώματος.

[36] ὡσαύτως δὲ καὶ τῶν ὀρθῶς πραττομένων ταὐτὸν τοῦτο αἴτιον ἀποφανοῦμεν.

[37] καὶ οὔτʼ οἰκέτην ἔτι αἰτιασόμεθα οὔτε γείτονα οὔτε γυναῖκα οὔτε τέκνα ὡς αἴτιά τινων κακῶν ἡμῖν γινόμενα πεπεισμένοι ὅτι, ἂν μὴ ἡμῖν δόξῃ τοιαῦτά τινα εἶναι, οὐ πράττομεν τὰ ἀκόλουθα· τοῦ δόξαι δὲ ἢ μὴ δόξαι, ἡμεῖς κύριοι καὶ οὐ τὰ ἐκτός.

[38] — οὕτως, ἔφη. — ἀπὸ τῆς σήμερον τοίνυν ἡμέρας οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἐπισκοπήσομεν οὐδʼ ἐξετάσομεν, ποῖόν τι ἐστὶν ἢ πῶς ἔχει, οὔτε τὸν ἀγρὸν οὔτε τὰ ἀνδράποδα οὔτε τοὺς ἵππους ἢ κύνας, ἀλλὰ τὰ δόγματα. — εὔχομαι, ἔφη.

[39] — ὁρᾷς οὖν, ὅτι σχολαστικόν σε δεῖ γενέσθαι, τοῦτο τὸ ζῷον οὗ πάντες καταγελῶσιν, εἴπερ ἄρα θέλεις ἐπίσκεψιν τῶν σαυτοῦ δογμάτων ποιεῖσθαι.

[40] τοῦτο δʼ ὅτι μιᾶς ὥρας ἢ ἡμέρας οὐκ ἔστιν, ἐπινοεῖς καὶ αὐτός.

περὶ εὐαρεστήσεως.

[1] περὶ θεῶν οἱ μέν τινές εἰσιν οἱ λέγοντες μηδʼ εἶναι τὸ θεῖον, οἱ δʼ εἶναι μέν, ἀργὸν δὲ καὶ ἀμελὲς καὶ μὴ προνοεῖν μηδενός·

[2] τρίτοι δʼ οἱ καὶ εἶναι καὶ προνοεῖν, ἀλλὰ τῶν μεγάλων καὶ οὐρανίων, τῶν δὲ ἐπὶ γῆς μηδενός· τέταρτοι δʼ οἱ καὶ τῶν ἐπὶ γῆς καὶ τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων, εἰς κοινὸν δὲ μόνον καὶ οὐχὶ δὲ καὶ κατʼ ἰδίαν ἑκάστου·

[3] πέμπτοι δʼ, ὧν ἦν καὶ Ὀδυσσεὺς καὶ Σωκράτης, οἱ λέγοντες ὅτι

οὐδέ σε λήθω
κινύμενος.

[4] πολὺ πρότερον οὖν ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστι περὶ ἑκάστου τούτων ἐπεσκέφθαι, πότερα ὑγιῶς ἢ οὐχ ὑγιῶς λεγόμενόν ἐστιν. εἰ γὰρ μὴ εἰσὶν θεοί, πῶς ἐστι τέλος ἕπεσθαι θεοῖς;

[5] εἰ δʼ εἰσὶν μέν, μηδενὸς δʼ ἐπιμελούμενοι, καὶ οὕτως πῶς ὑγιὲς ἔσται;

[6] ἀλλὰ δὴ καὶ ὄντων καὶ ἐπιμελομένων εἰ μηδεμία διάδοσις εἰς ἀνθρώπους ἐστὶν ἐξ αὐτῶν καὶ νὴ Δία γε καὶ εἰς ἐμέ, πῶς ἔτι καὶ οὕτως ὑγιές ἐστιν;

[7] πάντα οὖν ταῦτα ὁ καλὸς καὶ ἀγαθὸς ἐπεσκεμμένος τὴν αὑτοῦ γνώμην ὑποτέταχεν τῷ διοικοῦντι τὰ ὅλα καθάπερ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ πολῖται τῷ νόμῳ τῆς πόλεως.

[8] ὁ δὲ παιδευόμενος ταύτην ὀφείλει τὴν ἐπιβολὴν ἔχων ἐλθεῖν ἐπὶ τὸ παιδεύεσθαι πῶς ἂν ἑποίμην ἐγὼ ἐν παντὶ τοῖς θεοῖς καὶ πῶς ἂν εὐαρεστοίην τῇ θείᾳ διοικήσει καὶ πῶς ἂν γενοίμην ἐλεύθερος;

[9] ἐλεύθερος γάρ ἐστιν, ᾧ γίνεται πάντα κατὰ προαίρεσιν καὶ ὃν οὐδεὶς δύναται κωλῦσαι.

[10] τί οὖν; ἀπόνοιά ἐστιν ἡ ἐλευθερία; μὴ γένοιτο. μανία γὰρ καὶ ἐλευθερία εἰς ταὐτὸν οὐκ ἔρχεται.

[11] ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ θέλω πᾶν τὸ δοκοῦν μοι ἀποβαίνειν, κἂν ὁπωσοῦν δοκῇ.

[12] μαινόμενος εἶ, παραφρονεῖς. οὐκ οἶδας, ὅτι καλόν τι ἐλευθερία ἐστὶ καὶ ἀξιόλογον; τὸ δʼ ὡς ἔτυχέν με βούλεσθαι τὰ δʼ ὡς ἔτυχεν δόξαντα γίνεσθαι, τοῦτο κινδυνεύει οὐ μόνον οὐκ εἶναι καλόν, ἀλλὰ καὶ πάντων αἴσχιστον εἶναι.

[13] πῶς γὰρ ἐπὶ γραμματικῶν ποιοῦμεν; βούλομαι γράφειν ὡς θέλω τὸ Δίωνος ὄνομα; οὔ· ἀλλὰ διδάσκομαι θέλειν, ὡς δεῖ γράφεσθαι. τί ἐπὶ μουσικῶν; ὡσαύτως.

[14] τί ἐν τῷ καθόλου, ὅπου τέχνη τις ἢ ἐπιστήμη ἐστίν; εἰ δὲ μή, οὐδενὸς ἦν ἄξιον τὸ ἐπίστασθαί τι, εἰ ταῖς ἑκάστων βουλήσεσι προσηρμόζετο.

[15] ἐνταῦθα οὖν μόνον ἐπὶ τοῦ μεγίστου καὶ κυριωτάτου, τῆς ἐλευθερίας, ὡς ἔτυχεν ἐφεῖταί μοι θέλειν; οὐδαμῶς, ἀλλὰ τὸ παιδεύεσθαι τοῦτʼ ἔστι μανθάνειν ἕκαστα οὕτω θέλειν ὡς γίνεται. πῶς δὲ γίνεται; ὡς διέταξεν αὐτὰ ὁ διατάσσων.

[16] διέταξε δὲ θέρος εἶναι καὶ χειμῶνα καὶ φορὰν καὶ ἀφορίαν καὶ ἀρετὴν καὶ κακίαν καὶ πάσας τὰς τοιαύτας ἐναντιότητας ὑπὲρ συμφωνίας τῶν ὅλων ἡμῶν θʼ ἑκάστῳ σῶμα καὶ μέρη τοῦ σώματος καὶ κτῆσιν καὶ κοινωνοὺς ἔδωκεν.

[17] ταύτης οὖν τῆς διατάξεως μεμνημένους ἔρχεσθαι δεῖ ἐπὶ τὸ παιδεύεσθαι, οὐχ ἵνʼ ἀλλάξωμεν τὰς ὑποθέσεις (οὔτε γὰρ δίδοται ἡμῖν οὔτʼ ἄμεινον), ἀλλʼ ἵνα οὕτως ἐχόντων τῶν περὶ ἡμᾶς ὡς ἔχει καὶ πέφυκεν αὐτοὶ τὴν γνώμην τὴν αὑτῶν συνηρμοσμένην τοῖς γινομένοις ἔχωμεν.

[18] τί γάρ; ἐνδέχεται φυγεῖν ἀνθρώπους; καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε; ἀλλὰ συνόντας αὐτοῖς ἐκείνους ἀλλάξαι; καὶ τίς ἡμῖν δίδωσιν;

[19] τί οὖν ἀπολείπεται ἢ τίς εὑρίσκεται μηχανὴ πρὸς τὴν χρῆσιν αὐτῶν; τοιαύτη, διʼ ἧς ἐκεῖνοι μὲν ποιήσουσι τὰ φαινόμενα αὐτοῖς, ἡμεῖς δʼ οὐδὲν ἧττον κατὰ φύσιν ἕξομεν.

[20] σὺ δʼ ἀταλαίπωρος εἶ καὶ δυσάρεστος κἂν μὲν μόνος ᾖς, ἐρημίαν καλεῖς τοῦτο, ἂν δὲ μετὰ ἀνθρώπων, ἐπιβούλους λέγεις καὶ λῃστάς, μέμφῃ δὲ καὶ γονεῖς τοὺς σεαυτοῦ καὶ τέκνα καὶ ἀδελφοὺς καὶ γείτονας.

[21] ἔδει δὲ μόνον μένοντα ἡσυχίαν καλεῖν αὐτὸ καὶ ἐλευθερίαν καὶ ὅμοιον τοῖς θεοῖς ἡγεῖσθαι αὑτόν, μετὰ πολλῶν δʼ ὄντα μὴ ὄχλον καλεῖν μηδὲ θόρυβον μηδʼ ἀηδίαν, ἀλλʼ ἑορτὴν καὶ πανήγυριν καὶ οὕτως πάντα εὐαρέστως δέχεσθαι. τίς οὖν ἡ κόλασις τοῖς οὐ προσδεχομένοις;

[22] τὸ οὕτως ἔχειν ὡς ἔχουσιν. δυσαρεστεῖ τις τῷ μόνος εἶναι; ἔστω ἐν ἐρημίᾳ. δυσαρεστεῖ τις τοῖς γονεῦσιν; ἔστω κακὸς υἱὸς καὶ πενθείτω. δυσαρεστεῖ τοῖς τέκνοις;

[23] ἔστω κακὸς πατήρ. βάλε αὐτὸν εἰς φυλακήν. ποίαν φυλακήν; ὅπου νῦν ἐστιν. ἄκων γάρ ἐστιν· ὅπου δέ τις ἄκων ἐστίν, ἐκεῖνο φυλακὴ αὐτῷ ἐστιν. καθὸ καὶ Σωκράτης οὐκ ἦν ἐν φυλακῇ, ἑκὼν γὰρ ἦν.

[24] σκέλος οὖν μοι γενέσθαι πεπηρωμένον. ἀνδράποδον, εἶτα διʼ ἓν σκελύδριον τῷ κόσμῳ ἐγκαλεῖς; οὐκ ἐπιδώσεις αὐτὸ τοῖς ὅλοις; οὐκ ἀποστήσῃ; οὐ χαίρων παραχωρήσεις τῷ δεδωκότι;

[25] ἀγανακτήσεις δὲ καὶ δυσαρεστήσεις τοῖς ὑπὸ τοῦ Διὸς διατεταγμένοις, ἃ ἐκεῖνος μετὰ τῶν Μοιρῶν παρουσῶν καὶ ἐπικλωθουσῶν σου τὴν γένεσιν ὥρισεν καὶ διέταξεν;

[26] οὐκ οἶσθα ς, ἡλίκον μέρος πρὸς τὰ ὅλα; τοῦτο δὲ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα, ὡς κατά γε τὸν λόγον οὐδὲν χείρων τῶν θεῶν οὐδὲ μικρότερος· λόγου γὰρ μέγεθος οὐ μήκει οὐδʼ ὕψει κρίνεται, ἀλλὰ δόγμασιν.

[27] οὐ θέλεις οὖν, καθʼ ἃ ἴσος εἶ τοῖς θεοῖς, ἐκεῖ που τίθεσθαι τὸ ἀγαθόν;

[28] τάλας ἐγώ, τὸν πατέρα ἔχω τοιοῦτον καὶ τὴν μητέρα. τί οὖν; ἐδίδοτό σοι προελθόντι ἐκλέξασθαι καὶ εἰπεῖν ὁ δεῖνα τῇ δεῖνι συνελθέτω τῇδε τῇ ὥρᾳ, ἵνα ἐγὼ γένωμαι;

[29] οὐκ ἐδίδοτο. ἀλλʼ ἔδει προυποστῆναί σου τοὺς γονεῖς, εἶτα οὕτως γεννηθῆναι. ἐκ ποίων τινῶν;

[30] ἐκ τοιούτων, ὁποῖοι ἦσαν. τί οὖν; τοιούτων αὐτῶν ὄντων οὐδεμία σοι δίδοται μηχανή; εἶτʼ εἰ μὲν τὴν ὁρατικὴν δύναμιν ἠγνόεις πρὸς τί κέκτησαι, δυστυχὴς ἂν ἦς καὶ ἄθλιος, εἰ κατέμυες, προσαγόντων σοι τῶν χρωμάτων· ὅτι δὲ μεγαλοψυχίαν ἔχων καὶ γενναιότητα πρὸς ἕκαστα τούτων ἀγνοεῖς, οὐ δυστυχέστερος εἶ καὶ ἀθλιώτερος; προσάγεταί σοι τὰ κατάλληλα τῇ δυνάμει ἣν ἔχεις·

[31] σὺ δʼ αὐτὴν τότε μάλιστα ἀποστρέφεις, ὁπότε ἠνοιγμένην καὶ βλέπουσαν ἔχειν ἔδει.

[32] οὐ μᾶλλον εὐχαριστεῖς τοῖς θεοῖς, ὅτι σε ἐπάνω τούτων ἀφῆκαν ὅσα μηδʼ ἐποίησαν ἐπὶ σοί, μόνον δʼ ὑπεύθυνον ἀπέφηναν τῶν ἐπὶ σοί; γονέων ἕνεκα ἀνυπεύθυνον ἀφῆκαν·

[33] ἀδελφῶν ἕνεκα ἀφῆκαν, σώματος ἕνεκα ἀφῆκαν, κτήσεως, θανάτου, ζωῆς.

[34] τίνος οὖν ὑπεύθυνόν σε ἐποίησαν; τοῦ μόνου ὄντος ἐπὶ σοί, χρήσεως οἵας δεῖ φαντασιῶν.

[35] τί οὖν ἐπισπᾷς σεαυτῷ ταῦτα ὧν ἀνυπεύθυνος εἶ; τοῦτό ἐστιν ἑαυτῷ παρέχειν πράγματα.

πῶς ἕκαστα ἔστιν ποιεῖν ἀρεστῶς θεοῖς.

[1] πυθομένου δέ τινος, πῶς ἔστιν ἐσθίειν ἀρεστῶς θεοῖς, Εἰ δικαίως ἔστιν, ἔφη, καὶ εὐγνωμόνως καὶ ἴσως ἐγκρατῶς καὶ κοσμίως, οὐκ ἔστι καὶ ἀρεστῶς τοῖς θεοῖς;

[2] ὅταν δὲ θερμὸν αἰτήσαντός σου μὴ ὑπακούσῃ ὁ παῖς ἢ ὑπακούσας χλιαρώτερον ἐνέγκῃ ἢ μηδʼ εὑρεθῇ ἐν τῇ οἰκίᾳ, τὸ μὴ χαλεπαίνειν μηδὲ ῥήγνυσθαι οὐκ ἔστιν ἀρεστὸν τοῖς θεοῖς;

[3] — πῶς οὖν τις ἀνάσχηται τῶν τοιούτων; — ἀνδράποδον, οὐκ ἀνέξῃ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ τοῦ σαυτοῦ, ὃς ἔχει τὸν Δία πρόγονον, ὥσπερ υἱὸς ἐκ τῶν αὐτῶν σπερμάτων γέγονεν καὶ τῆς αὐτῆς ἄνωθεν καταβολῆς,

[4] ἀλλʼ εἰ ἔν τινι τοιαύτῃ χώρᾳ κατετάγης ὑπερεχούσῃ, εὐθὺς τύραννον καταστήσεις σεαυτόν; οὐ μεμνήσῃ τί εἶ καὶ τίνων ἄρχεις; ὅτι συγγενῶν, ὅτι ἀδελφῶν φύσει, ὅτι τοῦ Διὸς ἀπογόνων;

[5] — ἀλλʼ ὠνὴν αὐτῶν ἔχω, ἐκεῖνοι δʼ ἐμοῦ οὐκ ἔχουσιν. — ὁρᾷς ποῦ βλέπεις; ὅτι εἰς τὴν γῆν, ὅτι εἰς τὸ βάραθρον, ὅτι εἰς τοὺς ταλαιπώρους τούτους νόμους τοὺς τῶν νεκρῶν, εἰς δὲ τοὺς τῶν θεῶν οὐ βλέπεις;

ὅτι πάντας ἐφορᾷ τὸ θεῖον.

[1] πυθομένου δέ τινος, πῶς ἄν τις πεισθείη, ὅτι ἕκαστον τῶν ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ πραττομένων ἐφορᾶται ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ, Οὐ δοκεῖ σοι, ἔφη, ἡνῶσθαι τὰ πάντα;

[2] — δοκεῖ, ἔφη. — τί δέ; συμπαθεῖν τὰ ἐπίγεια τοῖς οὐρανίοις οὐ δοκεῖ σοι;

[3] — δοκεῖ, ἔφη. — πόθεν γὰρ οὕτω τεταγμένως καθάπερ ἐκ προστάγματος τοῦ θεοῦ, ὅταν ἐκεῖνος εἴπῃ τοῖς φυτοῖς ἀνθεῖν, ἀνθεῖ, ὅταν εἴπῃ βλαστάνειν, βλαστάνει, ὅταν ἐκφέρειν τὸν καρπόν, ἐκφέρει, ὅταν πεπαίνειν, πεπαίνει, ὅταν πάλιν ἀποβάλλειν καὶ φυλλορροεῖν καὶ αὐτὰ εἰς αὑτὰ συνειλούμενα ἐφʼ ἡσυχίας μένειν καὶ ἀναπαύεσθαι, μένει καὶ ἀναπαύεται;

[4] πόθεν δὲ πρὸς τὴν αὔξησιν καὶ μείωσιν τῆς σελήνης καὶ τὴν τοῦ ἡλίου πρόσοδον καὶ ἄφοδον τοσαύτη παραλλαγὴ καὶ ἐπὶ τὰ ἐναντία μεταβολὴ τῶν ἐπιγείων θεωρεῖται;

[5] ἀλλὰ τὰ φυτὰ μὲν καὶ τὰ ἡμέτερα σώματα οὕτως ἐνδέδεται τοῖς ὅλοις καὶ συμπέπονθεν, αἱ ψυχαὶ δʼ αἱ ἡμέτεραι οὐ πολὺ πλέον;

[6] ἀλλʼ αἱ ψυχαὶ μὲν οὕτως εἰσὶν ἐνδεδεμέναι καὶ συναφεῖς τῷ θεῷ ἅτε αὐτοῦ μόρια οὖσαι καὶ ἀποσπάσματα, οὐ παντὸς δʼ αὐτῶν κινήματος ἅτε οἰκείου καὶ συμφυοῦς ὁ θεὸς αἰσθάνεται;

[7] ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν περὶ τῆς θείας διοικήσεως καὶ περὶ ἑκάστου τῶν θείων, ὁμοῦ δὲ καὶ περὶ τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων πραγμάτων ἐνθυμεῖσθαι δύνασαι καὶ ἅμα μὲν αἰσθητικῶς ἀπὸ μυρίων πραγμάτων κινεῖσθαι, ἅμα δὲ διανοητικῶς, ἅμα δὲ συγκαταθετικῶς, τοῖς δʼ ἀνανευστικῶς ἢ ἐφεκτικῶς,

[8] τύπους δὲ τοσούτους ἀφʼ οὕτω πολλῶν καὶ ποικίλων πραγμάτων ἐν τῇ σαυτοῦ ψυχῇ φυλάττεις καὶ ἀπʼ αὐτῶν κινούμενος εἰς ἐπινοίας ὁμοειδεῖς ἐμπίπτεις τοῖς πρώτως τετυπωκόσι τέχνας τʼ ἄλλην ἐπʼ ἄλλῃ καὶ μνήμας ἀπὸ μυρίων πραγμάτων διασῴζεις·

[9] ὁ δὲ θεὸς οὐχ οἷός τʼ ἐστὶ πάντα ἐφορᾶν καὶ πᾶσιν συμπαρεῖναι καὶ ἀπὸ πάντων τινὰ ἴσχειν διάδοσιν;

[10] ἀλλὰ φωτίζειν οἷός τʼ ἐστὶν ὁ ἥλιος τηλικοῦτον μέρος τοῦ παντός, ὀλίγον δὲ τὸ ἀφώτιστον ἀπολιπεῖν ὅσον οἷόν τʼ ἐπέχεσθαι ὑπὸ σκιᾶς, ἣν ἡ γῆ ποιεῖ· ὁ δὲ καὶ τὸν ἥλιον αὐτὸν πεποιηκὼς καὶ περιάγων μέρος ὄντʼ αὐτοῦ μικρὸν ὡς πρὸς τὸ ὅλον, οὗτος δʼ οὐ δύναται πάντων αἰσθάνεσθαι;

[11] ἀλλʼ ἐγώ, φησίν, οὐ δύναμαι πᾶσιν ἅμα τούτοις παρακολουθεῖν. — τοῦτο δέ σοι καὶ λέγει τις, ὅτι ἴσην ἔχεις δύναμιν τῷ Διί;

[12] ἀλλʼ οὖν οὐδὲν ἧττον καὶ ἐπίτροπον ἑκάστῳ παρέστησεν τὸν ἑκάστου δαίμονα καὶ παρέδωκεν φυλάσσειν αὐτὸν αὐτῷ καὶ τοῦτον ἀκοίμητον καὶ ἀπαραλόγιστον.

[13] τίνι γὰρ ἄλλῳ κρείττονι καὶ ἐπιμελεστέρῳ φύλακι παρέδωκεν ἡμῶν ἕκαστον; ὥσθʼ, ὅταν κλείσητε τὰς θύρας καὶ σκότος ἔνδον ποιήσητε, μέμνησθε μηδέποτε λέγειν ὅτι μόνοι ἐστέ·

[14] οὐ γὰρ ἐστέ, ἀλλʼ ὁ θεὸς ἔνδον ἐστὶ καὶ ὁ ὑμέτερος δαίμων ἐστίν. καὶ τίς τούτοις χρεία φωτὸς εἰς τὸ βλέπειν τί ποιεῖτε;

[15] τούτῳ τῷ θεῷ ἔδει καὶ ὑμᾶς ὀμνύειν ὅρκον, οἷον οἱ στρατιῶται τῷ Καίσαρι. ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνοι μὲν τὴν μισθοφορίαν λαμβάνοντες ὀμνύουσιν πάντων προτιμήσειν τὴν τοῦ Καίσαρος σωτηρίαν, ὑμεῖς δὲ δε τοσούτων καὶ τηλικούτων ἠξιωμένοι οὐκ ὀμόσετε ἢ ὀμόσαντες οὐκ ἐμμενεῖτε;

[16] καὶ τί ὀμόσετε; μὴ ἀπειθήσειν μηδέποτε μηδʼ ἐγκαλέσειν μηδὲ μέμψεσθαί τινι τῶν ὑπʼ ἐκείνου δεδομένων μηδʼ ἄκοντες ποιήσειν τι ἢ πείσεσθαι τῶν ἀναγκαίων.

[17] ὅμοιός γε ὅρκος οὗτος ἐκείνῳ; ἐκεῖ μὲν ὀμνύουσιν αὐτοῦ μὴ προτιμήσειν ἕτερον, ἐνταῦθα δʼ αὑτοὺς ἁπάντων.

τί ἐπαγγέλλεται φιλοσοφία.

[1] συμβουλευομένου τινός, πῶς τὸν ἀδελφὸν πείσῃ μηκέτι χαλεπῶς αὐτῷ ἔχειν,

[2] οὐκ ἐπαγγέλλεται, ἔφη, φιλοσοφία τῶν ἐκτός τι περιποιήσειν τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ· εἰ δὲ μή, ἔξω τι τῆς ἰδίας ὕλης ἀναδέξεται. ὡς γὰρ τέκτονος ὕλη τὰ ξύλα, ἀνδριαντοποιοῦ ὁ χαλκός, οὕτως τῆς περὶ βίον τέχνης ὕλη ὁ βίος αὐτοῦ ἑκάστου.

[3] — τί οὖν ὁ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ; — πάλιν τῆς αὐτοῦ ἐκείνου τέχνης ἐστίν, πρὸς δὲ τὴν σὴν τῶν ἐκτός ἐστιν, ὅμοιον ἀγρῷ, ὅμοιον ὑγείᾳ, ὅμοιον εὐδοξίᾳ. τούτων δʼ οὐδὲν ἐπαγγέλλεται· φιλοσοφία.

[4] ἐν πάσῃ περιστάσει τηρήσω τὸ ἡγεμονικὸν κατὰ φύσιν ἔχον. — τὸ τίνος; — τὸ ἐκείνου, ἐν ᾧ εἰμί.

[5] — πῶς οὖν ἐκεῖνός μοι μὴ ὀργίζηται; — φέρε μοι ἐκεῖνον κἀκείνῳ ἐρῶ, σοὶ δὲ περὶ τῆς ἐκείνου ὀργῆς οὐδὲν ἔχω λέγειν.

[6] εἰπόντος δὲ τοῦ συμβουλευομένου ὅτι Τοῦτο ζητῶ, πῶς ἂν ἐκείνου καὶ μὴ διαλλασσομένου κατὰ φύσιν ἔχοιμι,

[7] οὐδέν, ἔφη, τῶν μεγάλων ἄφνω γίνεται, ὅπου γε οὐδʼ ὁ βότρυς οὐδὲ σῦκον. ἄν μοι νῦν λέγῃς ὅτι θέλω σῦκον, ἀποκρινοῦμαί σοι ὅτι χρόνου δεῖ. ἄφες ἀνθήσῃ πρῶτον, εἶτα προβάλῃ τὸν καρπόν, εἶτα πεπανθῇ.

[8] εἶτα συκῆς μὲν καρπὸς ἄφνω καὶ μιᾷ ὥρᾳ οὐ τελειοῦται, γνώμης δʼ ἀνθρώπου καρπὸν θέλεις οὕτως διʼ ὀλίγου καὶ εὐκόλως κτήσασθαι; μηδʼ ἂν ἐγώ σοι λέγω, προσδόκα.

περὶ προνοίας.

[1] μὴ θαυμάζετʼ εἰ τοῖς μὲν ἄλλοις ζῴοις τὰ πρὸς τὸ σῶμα ἕτοιμα γέγονεν, οὐ μόνον τροφαὶ καὶ πόμα, ἀλλὰ καὶ κοίτη καὶ τὸ μὴ δεῖσθαι ὑποδημάτων, μὴ ὑποστρωμάτων, μὴ ἐσθῆτος, ἡμεῖς δὲ πάντων τούτων προσδεόμεθα.

[2] τὰ γὰρ οὐκ αὐτῶν ἕνεκα, ἀλλὰ πρὸς ὑπηρεσίαν γεγονότα οὐκ ἐλυσιτέλει προσδεόμενα ἄλλων πεποιηκέναι.

[3] ἐπεὶ ὅρα οἷον ἦν ἡμᾶς φροντίζειν μὴ περὶ αὑτῶν μόνον ἀλλὰ καὶ περὶ τῶν προβάτων καὶ τῶν ὄνων, πῶς ἐνδύσηται καὶ πῶς ὑποδήσηται, πῶς φάγῃ, πῶς πίῃ.

[4] ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ οἱ στρατιῶται ἕτοιμοί εἰσι τῷ στρατηγῷ ὑποδεδεμένοι ἐνδεδυμένοι ὡπλισμένοι, εἰ δʼ ἔδει περιερχόμενον τὸν χιλίαρχον ὑποδεῖν ἢ ἐνδύειν τοὺς χιλίους, δεινὸν ἂν ἦν, οὕτω καὶ ἡ φύσις πεποίηκε τὰ πρὸς ὑπηρεσίαν γεγονότα ἕτοιμα παρεσκευασμένα μηδεμιᾶς ἐπιμελείας ἔτι προσδεόμενα.

[5] οὕτως ἓν παιδίον μικρὸν καὶ ῥάβδῳ ἐλαύνει τὰ πρόβατα.

[6] νῦν δʼ ἡμεῖς ἀφέντες ἐπὶ τούτοις εὐχαριστεῖν, ὅτι μὴ καὶ αὐτῶν τὴν ἴσην ἐπιμέλειαν ἐπιμελούμεθα, ἐφʼ αὑτοῖς ἐγκαλοῦμεν τῷ θεῷ.

[7] καίτοι νὴ τὸν Δία καὶ τοὺς θεοὺς ἓν τῶν γεγονότων ἀπήρκει πρὸς τὸ αἰσθέσθαι τῆς προνοίας τῷ γε αἰδήμονι καὶ εὐχαρίστῳ.

[8] καὶ μή μοι νῦν τὰ μεγάλα· αὐτὸ τοῦτο τὸ ἐκ π τόας γάλα γεννᾶσθαι καὶ ἐκ γάλακτος τυρὸν καὶ ἐκ δέρματος ἔρια τίς ἐστιν ὁ πεποιηκὼς ταῦτα ἢ ἐπινενοηκώς; οὐδὲ εἷς φησίν. ὦ μεγάλης ἀναισθησίας καὶ ἀναισχυντίας.

[9] ἄγε ἀφῶμεν τὰ ἔργα τῆς φύσεως, τὰ πάρεργα αὐτῆς θεασώμεθα.

[10] μή τι ἀχρηστότερον τριχῶν τῶν ἐπὶ γενείου; τί οὖν; οὐ συνεχρήσατο καὶ ταύταις ὡς μάλιστα πρεπόντως ἐδύνατο; οὐ διέκρινεν διʼ αὐτῶν τὸ ἄρρεν καὶ τὸ θῆλυ;

[11] οὐκ εὐθὺς μακρόθεν κέκραγεν ἡμῶν ἑκάστου ἡ φύσις ἀνήρ εἰμι· οὕτω μοι προσέρχου, οὕτω μοι λάλει, ἄλλο μηδὲν ζήτει· ἰδοὺ τὰ σύμβολα;

[12] πάλιν ἐπὶ τῶν γυναικῶν ὥσπερ ἐν φωνῇ τι ἐγκατέμιξεν ἁπαλώτερον, οὕτως καὶ τὰς τρίχας ἀφεῖλεν. οὔ· ἀλλʼ ἀδιάκριτον ἔδει τὸ ζῷον ἀπολειφθῆναι καὶ κηρύσσειν ἕκαστον ἡμῶν ὅτι ἀνήρ εἰμι.

[13] πῶς δὲ καλὸν τὸ σύμβολον καὶ εὐπρεπὲς καὶ σεμνόν, πόσῳ κάλλιον τοῦ τῶν ἀλεκτρυόνων λόφου, πόσῳ μεγαλοπρεπέστερον τῆς χαίτης τῶν λεόντων.

[14] διὰ τοῦτο ἔδει σῴζειν τὰ σύμβολα τοῦ θεοῦ, ἔδει αὐτὰ μὴ καταπροίεσθαι, μὴ συγχεῖν ὅσον ἐφʼ ἑαυτοῖς τὰ γένη τὰ διῃρημένα.

[15] ταῦτα μόνα ἐστὶν ἔργα ἐφʼ ἡμῶν τῆς προνοίας; καὶ τίς ἐξαρκεῖ λόγος ὁμοίως αὐτὰ ἐπαινέσαι ἢ παραστῆσαι; εἰ γὰρ νοῦν εἴχομεν, ἄλλο τι ἔδει ἡμᾶς ποιεῖν καὶ κοινῇ καὶ ἰδίᾳ ἢ ὑμνεῖν τὸ θεῖον καὶ εὐφημεῖν καὶ ἐπεξέρχεσθαι τὰς χάριτας;

[16] οὐκ ἔδει καὶ σκάπτοντας καὶ ἀροῦντας καὶ ἐσθίοντας ᾁδειν τὸν ὕμνον τὸν εἰς τὸν θεόν; μέγας ὁ θεὸς, ὅτι ἡμῖν παρέσχεν ὄργανα ταῦτα διʼ ὧν τὴν γῆν ἐργασόμεθα·

[17] μέγας ὁ θεός, ὅτι χεῖρας δέδωκεν, ὅτι κατάποσιν, ὅτι κοιλίαν, ὅτι αὔξεσθαι λεληθότως, ὅτι καθεύδοντας ἀναπνεῖν.

[18] ταῦτα ἐφʼ ἑκάστου ἐφυμνεῖν ἔδει καὶ τὸν μέγιστον καὶ θειότατον ὕμνον ἐφυμνεῖν, ὅτι τὴν δύναμιν ἔδωκεν τὴν παρακολουθητικὴν τούτοις καὶ ὁδῷ χρηστικήν.

[19] τί οὖν; ἐπεὶ οἱ πολλοὶ ἀποτετύφλωσθε, οὐκ ἔδει τινὰ εἶναι τὸν ταύτην ἐκπληροῦντα τὴν χώραν καὶ ὑπὲρ πάντων ᾁδοντα τὸν ὕμνον τὸν εἰς τὸν θεόν;

[20] τί γὰρ ἄλλο δύναμαι γέρων χωλὸς εἰ μὴ ὑμνεῖν τὸν θεόν; εἰ γοῦν ἀηδὼν ἤμην, ἐποίουν τὰ τῆς ἀηδόνος, εἰ κύκνος, τὰ τοῦ κύκνου.

[21] νῦν δὲ λογικός εἰμι· ὑμνεῖν με δεῖ τὸν θεόν. τοῦτό μου τὸ ἔργον ἐστίν, ποιῶ αὐτὸ οὐδʼ ἐγκαταλείψω τὴν τάξιν ταύτην, ἐφʼ ὅσον ἂν διδῶται, καὶ ὑμᾶς ἐπὶ τὴν αὐτὴν ταύτην ᾠδὴν παρακαλῶ.

ὅτι ἀναγκαῖα τὰ λογικά.

[1] ἐπειδὴ λόγος ἐστὶν ὁ διαρθρῶν καὶ ἐξεργαζόμενος τὰ λοιπά, ἔδει δʼ αὐτὸν μὴ ἀδιάρθρωτον εἶναι, ὑπὸ τίνος διαρθρωθῇ;

[2] δῆλον γὰρ ὅτι ἢ ὑφʼ αὑτοῦ ἢ ὑπʼ ἄλλου. ἤ τοι λόγος ἐστὶν ἐκεῖνος ἢ ἄλλο τι κρεῖσσον ἔσται τοῦ λόγου, ὅπερ ἀδύνατον.

[3] εἰ λόγος, ἐκεῖνον πάλιν τίς διαρθρώσει; εἰ γὰρ αὐτὸς ἑαυτόν, δύναται καὶ οὗτος. εἰ ἄλλου δεησόμεθα, ἄπειρον ἔσται τοῦτο καὶ ἀκατάληκτον.

[4] εἰναί, ἀλλʼ ἐπείγει μᾶλλον θεραπεύειν καὶ τὰ ὅμοια. θέλεις οὖν περὶ ἐκείνων ἀκούειν; ἄκουε.

[5] ἀλλʼ ἄν μοι λέγῃς ὅτι οὐκ οἶδα πότερον ἀληθῶς ἢ ψευδῶς διαλέγῃ, κἄν τι κατʼ ἀμφίβολον φωνὴν εἴπω καὶ λέγῃς μοι διάστιξον, οὐκ ἔτι ἀνέξομαί σου, ἀλλʼ ἐρῶ σοι·

[6] ἀλλʼ ἐπείγει μᾶλλον. διὰ τοῦτο γὰρ οἶμαι προ στάσσουσιν τὰ λογικά, καθάπερ τῆς μετρήσεως τοῦ σίτου προτάσσομεν τὴν τοῦ μέτρου ἐπίσκεψιν.

[7] ἂν δὲ μὴ διαλάβωμεν πρῶτον τί ἐστι μόδιος μηδὲ διαλάβωμεν πρῶτον τί ἐστι ζυγός, πῶς ἔτι μετρῆσαί τι ἢ στῆσαι δυνησόμεθα;

[8] ἐνταῦθα οὖν τὸ τῶν ἄλλων κριτήριον καὶ διʼ οὗ τἆλλα καταμανθάνεται μὴ καταμεμαθηκότες μηδʼ ἠκριβωκότες δυνησόμεθά τι τῶν ἄλλων ἀκριβῶσαι καὶ καταμαθεῖν;

[9] καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε; ναί· ἀλλʼ ὁ μόδιος ξύλον ἐστὶ καὶ ἄκαρπον.

[10] ἀλλὰ μετρητικὸν σίτου. καὶ τὰ λογικὰ ἄκαρπά ἐστι. καὶ περὶ τούτου μὲν ὀψόμεθα. εἰ δʼ οὖν καὶ τοῦτο δοίη τις, ἐκεῖνο ἀπαρκεῖ ὅτι τῶν ἄλλων ἐστὶ διακριτικὰ καὶ ἐπισκεπτικὰ καὶ ὡς ἄν τις εἴποι μετρητικὰ καὶ στατικά.

[11] τίς λέγει ταῦτα; μόνος Χρύσιππος καὶ Ζήνων καὶ Κλεάνθης;

[12] Ἀντισθένης δʼ οὐ λέγει; καὶ τίς ἐστιν ὁ γεγραφὼς ὅτι ἀρχὴ παιδεύσεως ἡ τῶν ὀνομάτων ἐπίσκεψις; Σωκράτης δʼ οὐ λέγει; καὶ περὶ τίνος γράφει Ξενοφῶν, ὅτι ἤρχετο ἀπὸ τῆς τῶν ὀνομάτων ἐπισκέψεως, τί σημαίνει ἕκαστον;

[13] ἆρʼ οὖν τοῦτό ἐστι τὸ μέγα καὶ τὸ θαυμαστὸν νοῆσαι Χρύσιππον ἢ ἐξηγήσασθαι; καὶ τίς λέγει τοῦτο; τί οὖν τὸ θαυμαστόν ἐστιν;

[14] νοῆσαι τὸ βούλημα τῆς φύσεως. τί οὖν; αὐτὸς διὰ σεαυτοῦ παρακολουθεῖς; καὶ τίνος ἔτι χρείαν ἔχεις; εἰ γὰρ ἀληθές ἐστι τὸ πάντας ἄκοντας ἁμαρτάνειν, σὺ δὲ καταμεμάθηκας τὴν ἀλήθειαν, ἀνάγκη σε ἤδη κατορθοῦν.

[15] ἀλλὰ νὴ Δία οὐ παρακολουθῶ τῷ βουλήματι τῆς φύσεως. τίς οὖν ἐξηγεῖται αὐτό; λέγουσιν ὅτι Χρύσιππος.

[16] ἔρχομαι καὶ ἐπιζητῶ τί λέγει οὗτος ὁ ἐξηγητὴς τῆς φύσεως. ἄρχομαι μὴ νοεῖν τί λέγει, ζητῶ τὸν ἐξηγούμενον. ἴδε ἐπίσκεψαι, πῶς τοῦτο λέγεται, καθάπερ εἰ Ῥωμαϊστί.

[17] ποία οὖν ἐνθάδʼ ὀφρὺς τοῦ ἐξηγουμένου; οὐδʼ αὐτοῦ Χρυσίππου δικαίως, εἰ μόνον ἐξηγεῖται τὸ βούλημα τῆς φύσεως, αὐτὸς δʼ οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ· πόσῳ πλέον τοῦ ἐκεῖνον ἐξηγουμένου;

[18] οὐδὲ γὰρ Χρυσίππου χρείαν ἔχομεν διʼ αὐτόν, ἀλλʼ ἵνα παρακολουθήσωμεν τῇ φύσει. οὐδὲ γὰρ τοῦ θύτου διʼ αὐτόν, ἀλλʼ ὅτι διʼ ἐκείνου κατανοήσειν οἰόμεθα τὰ μέλλοντα καὶ σημαινόμενα ὑπὸ τῶν θεῶν, οὐδὲ τῶν σπλάγχνων διʼ αὐτά,

[19] ἀλλʼ ὅτι διʼ ἐκείνων σημαίνεται, οὐδὲ τὸν κόρακα θαυμάζομεν ἢ τὴν κορώνην, ἀλλὰ τὸν θεὸν σημαίνοντα διὰ τούτων.

[20] ἔρχομαι τοίνυν ἐπὶ τὸν ἐξηγητὴν τοῦτον καὶ θύτην καὶ λέγω ὅτι ἐπίσκεψαί μοι τὰ σπλάγχνα, τί μοι σημαίνεται.

[21] λαβὼν καὶ ἀναπτύξας ἐκεῖνος ἐξηγεῖται ὅτι ἄνθρωπε, προαίρεσιν ἔχεις ἀκώλυτον φύσει καὶ ἀνανάγκαστον. τοῦτο ἐνταῦθα ἐν τοῖς σπλάγχνοις γέγραπται.

[22] δείξω σοι αὐτὸ πρῶτον ἐπὶ τοῦ συγκαταθετικοῦ τόπου. μή τίς σε κωλῦσαι δύναται ἐπινεῦσαι ἀληθεῖ; οὐδὲ εἷς. μή τίς σε ἀναγκάσαι δύναται παραδέξασθαι τὸ ψεῦδος;

[23] οὐδὲ εἷς. ὁρᾷς ὅτι ἐν τούτῳ τῷ τόπῳ τὸ προαιρετικὸν ἔχεις ἀκώλυτον ἀνανάγκαστον ἀπαραπόδιστον;

[24] ἄγε ἐπὶ δὲ τοῦ ὀρεκτικοῦ καὶ ὁρμητικοῦ ἄλλως ἔχει; καὶ τίς ὁρμὴν νικῆσαι δύναται ἢ ἄλλη ὁρμή; τίς δʼ ὄρεξιν καὶ ἔκκλισιν ἢ ἄλλη ὄρεξις καὶ ἔκκλισις;

[25] ἄν μοι, φησί, προσάγῃ θανάτου φόβον, ἀναγκάζει με. οὐ τὸ προσαγόμενον, ἀλλʼ ὅτι δοκεῖ σοι κρεῖττον εἶναι ποιῆσαί τι τούτων ἢ ἀποθανεῖν.

[26] πάλιν οὖν τὸ σὸν δόγμα σε ἠνάγκασεν, τοῦτʼ ἔστι προαίρεσιν προαίρεσις.

[27] εἰ γὰρ τὸ ἴδιον μέρος, ὃ ἡμῖν ἔδωκεν ἀποσπάσας ὁ θεός, ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ ἢ ὑπʼ ἄλλου τινὸς κωλυτὸν ἢ ἀναγκαστὸν κατεσκευάκει, οὐκέτι ἂν ἦν θεὸς οὐδʼ ἐπεμελεῖτο ἡμῶν ὃν δεῖ τρόπον.

[28] ταῦτα εὑρίσκω, φησίν, ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς. ταῦτά σοι σημαίνεται. ἐὰν θέλῃς, ἐλεύθερος εἶ· ἐὰν θέλῃς, μέμψῃ οὐδένα, ἐγκαλέσεις οὐδενί, πάντα κατὰ γνώμην ἔσται ἅμα τὴν σὴν καὶ τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ.

[29] διὰ ταύτην τὴν μαντείαν ἔρχομαι ἐπὶ τὸν θύτην τοῦτον καὶ τὸν φιλόσοφον, οὐκ αὐτὸν θαυμάσας ἕνεκά γε τῆς ἐξηγήσεως, ἀλλὰ ἐκεῖνα ἃ ἐξηγεῖται.

ὅτι οὐ δεῖ χαλεπαίνειν τοῖς ἁμαρτανομένοις.

[1] εἰ ἀληθές ἐστι τὸ ὑπὸ τῶν φιλοσόφων λεγόμενον ὅτι πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις μία ἀρχὴ καθάπερ τοῦ συγκαταθέσθαι τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι ὑπάρχει καὶ τοῦ ἀνανεῦσαι τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι οὐχ ὑπάρχει καὶ νὴ Δία τοῦ ἐπισχεῖν τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι ἄδηλόν ἐστιν,

[2] οὕτως καὶ τοῦ ὁρμῆσαι ἐπί τι τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι ἐμοὶ συμφέρει, ἀμήχανον δʼ ἄλλο μὲν κρίνειν τὸ συμφέρον, ἄλλου δʼ ὀρέγεσθαι καὶ ἄλλο μὲν κρίνειν καθῆκον, ἐπʼ ἄλλο δὲ ὁρμᾶν, τί ἔτι τοῖς πολλοῖς χαλεπαίνομεν;

[3] — κλέπται, φησίν, εἰσὶ καὶ λωποδύται. — τί ἐστι τὸ κλέπται καὶ λωποδύται; πεπλάνηνται περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν. χαλεπαίνειν οὖν δεῖ αὐτοῖς ἢ ἐλεεῖν αὐτούς;

[4] ἀλλὰ δεῖξον τὴν πλάνην καὶ ὄψει πῶς ἀφίστανται τῶν ἁμαρτημάτων. ἂν δὲ μὴ βλέπωσιν, οὐδὲν ἔχουσιν ἀνώτερον τοῦ δοκοῦντος αὐτοῖς.

[5] τοῦτον οὖν τὸν λῃστὴν καὶ τοῦτον τὸν μοιχὸν οὐκ ἔδει ἀπολωλέναι;

[6] — μηδαμῶς, ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνο μᾶλλον τοῦτον τὸν πεπλανημένον καὶ ἐξηπατημένον περὶ τῶν μεγίστων καὶ ἀποτετυφλωμένον οὐ τὴν ὄψιν τὴν διακριτικὴν τῶν λευκῶν καὶ μελάνων, ἀλλὰ τὴν γνώμην τὴν διακριτικὴν τῶν ἀγαθῶν καὶ τῶν κακῶν μὴ ἀπολλύναι;

[7] κἂν οὕτως λέγῃς, γνώσῃ πῶς ἀπάνθρωπόν ἐστιν ὃ λέγεις καὶ ὅτι ἐκείνῳ ὅμοιον τοῦτον οὖν τὸν τυφλὸν μὴ ἀπολλύναι καὶ τὸν κωφόν;

[8] εἰ γὰρ μεγίστη βλάβη ἡ τῶν μεγίστων ἀπώλειά ἐστιν, μέγιστον δʼ ἐν ἑκάστῳ προαίρεσις οἵα δεῖ καὶ τούτου στέρεταί τις, τί ἔτι χαλεπαίνεις αὐτῷ;

[9] ἄνθρωπε, εἰ σὲ δεῖ παρὰ φύσιν ἐπὶ τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις κακοῖς διατίθεσθαι, ἐλέει αὐτὸν μᾶλλον ἢ μίσει· ἄφες τοῦτο τὸ προσκοπτικὸν καὶ μισητικόν·

[10] μὴ ἐ̣ π̣ῃς τὰς φωνὰς ταύτας ἃς οἱ πολλοὶ τῶν φ των τούτους οὖν τοὺς καταράτους καὶ μιαροὺς ἔστω· σὺ πῶς ποτʼ ἀπεσοφώθης ἄφνω ν̣.

[11] ἀ̣λ̣λ̣ω̣ς̣ χαλεπὸς εἶ. διὰ τί οὖν χαλεπαίνομεν; ὅτι τὰς ὕλας θαυμάζομεν, ὧν ἡμᾶς ἀφαιροῦνται. ἐπεί τοι μὴ θαύμαζέ σου τὰ ἱμάτια καὶ τῷ κλέπτῃ οὐ χαλεπαίνεις· μὴ θαύμαζε τὸ κάλλος τῆς γυναικὸς καὶ τῷ μοιχῷ οὐ χαλεπαίνεις.

[12] γνῶθι ὅτι κλέπτης καὶ μοιχὸς ἐν τοῖς σοῖς τόπον οὐκ ἔχει, ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις καὶ τοῖς οὐκ ἐπὶ σοί. ταῦτα ἂν ἀφῇς καὶ παρὰ μηδὲν ἡγήσῃ, τίνι ἔτι χαλεπαίνεις; μέχρι δʼ ἂν ταῦτα θαυμάζῃς, σεαυτῷ χαλέπαινε μᾶλλον ἢ ἐκείνοις. σκόπει γάρ·

[13] ἔχεις καλὰ ἱμάτια, ὁ γείτων σου οὐκ ἔχει· θυρίδα ἔχεις, θέλεις αὐτὰ ψῦξαι. οὐκ οἶδεν ἐκεῖνος τί τὸ ἀγαθόν ἐστι τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, ἀλλὰ φαντάζεται ὅτι τὸ ἔχειν καλὰ ἱμάτια, τοῦτο ὃ καὶ σὺ φαντάζῃ.

[14] εἶτα μὴ ἔλθῃ καὶ ἄρῃ αὐτά; ἀλλὰ σὺ πλακοῦντα δεικνύων ἀνθρώποις λίχνοις καὶ μόνος αὐτὸν καταπίνων οὐ θέλεις ἵνα αὐτὸν ἁρπάσωσι; μὴ ἐρέθιζε αὐτούς, θυρίδα μὴ ἔχε, μὴ ψῦχέ σου τὰ ἱμάτια.

[15] κἀγὼ πρῴην σιδηροῦν λύχνον ἔχων παρὰ τοῖς θεοῖς ἀκούσας ψόφον τῆς θυρίδος κατέδραμον. εὗρον ἡρπασμένον τὸν λύχνον. ἐπελογισάμην, ὅτι ἔπαθέν τι ὁ ἄρας οὐκ ἀπίθανον. τί οὖν; αὔριον, φημί, ὀστράκινον εὑρήσεις.

[16] ἐκεῖνα γὰρ ἀπολλύει, ἃ ἔχει. ἀπώλεσά μου τὸ ἱμάτιον. εἶχες γὰρ ἱμάτιον. ἀλγῶ τὴν κεφαλήν. μή τι κέρατα ἀλγεῖς; τί οὖν ἀγανακτεῖς; τούτων γὰρ αἱ ἀπώλειαι, τούτων οἱ πόνοι, ὧν καὶ αἱ κτήσεις.

[17] ἀλλʼ ὁ τύραννος δήσει. τί; τὸ σκέλος. ἀλλʼ ἀφελεῖ. τί; τὸν τράχηλον. τί οὖν οὐ δήσει οὐδʼ ἀφελεῖ; τὴν προαίρεσιν. διὰ τοῦτο παρήγγελλον οἱ παλαιοὶ τὸ Γνῶθι σαυτόν.

[18] τί οὖν; ἔδει νὴ τοὺς θεοὺς μελετᾶν ἐπὶ τῶν μικρῶν καὶ ἀπʼ ἐκείνων ἀρχομένους διαβαίνειν ἐπὶ τὰ μείζω.

[19] κεφαλὴν ἀλγῶ. οἴμοι μὴ λέγε. ὠτίον ἀλγῶ. οἴμοι μὴ λέγε. καὶ οὐ λέγω ὅτι οὐ δέδοται στενάξαι, ἀλλὰ ἔσωθεν μὴ στενάξῃς. μηδʼ ἂν βραδέως τὸν ἐπίδεσμον ὁ παῖς φέρῃ, κραύγαζε καὶ σπῶ καὶ λέγε πάντες με μισοῦσιν. τίς γὰρ μὴ μισήσῃ τὸν τοιοῦτον;

[20] τούτοις τὸ λοιπὸν πεποιθὼς τοῖς δόγμασιν ὀρθὸς περιπάτει, ἐλεύθερος, οὐχὶ τῷ μεγέθει πεποιθὼς τοῦ σώματος ὥσπερ ἀθλητής· οὐ γὰρ ὡς ὄνον ἀήττητον εἶναι.

[21] τίς οὖν ὁ ἀήττητος; ὃν οὐκ ἐξίστησιν οὐδὲν τῶν ἀπροαιρέτων. εἶτα λοιπὸν ἑκάστην τῶν περιστάσεων ἐπερχόμενος καταμανθάνω ὡς ἐπὶ τοῦ ἀθλητοῦ. οὗτος ἐξεβίασε τὸν πρῶτον κλῆρον. τί οὖν τὸν δεύτερον; τί δʼ ἂν καῦμα ᾖ;

[22] τί δʼ ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ; καὶ ἐνταῦθα ὡσαύτως. ἂν ἀργυρίδιον προβάλῃς, καταφρονήσει. τί οὖν ἂν κορασίδιον; τί οὖν ἂν ἐν σκότῳ; τί οὖν ἂν δοξάριον; τί οὖν ἂν λοιδορίαν; τί οὖν ἂν ἔπαινον; τί δʼ ἂν θάνατον;

[23] δύναται ταῦτα πάντα νικῆσαι. τί οὖν ἂν καῦμα ᾖ, τοῦτό ἐστι· τί, ἂν οἰνωμένος ᾖ; τί ἂν μελαγχολῶν; τί ἐν ὕπνοις; οὗτός μοί ἐστιν ὁ ἀνίκητος ἀθλητής.

πῶς ἔχειν δεῖ πρὸς τοὺς τυράννους.

[1] ὅτι ἄν τινι προσῇ τι πλεονέκτημα ἢ δοκῇ γε προσεῖναι μὴ προσόν, τοῦτον πᾶσα ἀνάγκη, ἐὰν ἀπαίδευτος ᾖ, πεφυσῆσθαι διʼ αὐτό.

[2] εὐθὺς ὁ τύραννος λέγει ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ πάντων κράτιστος. καὶ τί μοι δύνασαι παρασχεῖν; ὄρεξίν μοι δύνασαι περιποιῆσαι ἀκώλυτον; πόθεν σοι; σὺ γὰρ ἔχεις; ἔκκλισιν ἀπερίπτωτον; σὺ γὰρ ἔχεις; ὁρμὴν ἀναμάρτητον;

[3] καὶ ποῦ σοι μέτεστιν; ἄγε, ἐν νηὶ δὲ σαυτῷ θαρρεῖς ἢ τῷ εἰδότι; ἐπὶ δʼ ἅρματος τίνι ἢ τῷ εἰδότι;

[4] τί δʼ ἐν ταῖς ἄλλαις τέχναις; ὡσαύτως. τί οὖν δύνασαι; πάντες με θεραπεύουσιν. καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ τὸ πινάκιον θεραπεύω καὶ πλύνω αὐτὸ καὶ ἐκμάσσω καὶ τῆς ληκύθου ἕνεκα πάσσαλον πήσσω. τί οὖν; ταῦτά μου κρείττονά ἐστιν; οὔ· ἀλλὰ χρείαν μοι παρέχει τινά. ταύτης οὖν ἕνεκα θεραπεύω αὐτά. τί δέ; τὸν ὄνον οὐ θεραπεύω;

[5] οὐ νίπτω αὐτοῦ τοὺς πόδας; οὐ περικαθαίρω; οὐκ οἶδας ὅτι πᾶς ἄνθρωπος ἑαυτὸν θεραπεύει, σὲ δʼ οὕτως ὡς τὸν ὄνον; ἐπεὶ τίς σε θεραπεύει ὡς ἄνθρωπον; δείκνυε.

[6] τίς σοι θέλει ὅμοιος γενέσθαι, τίς σου ζηλωτὴς γίνεται ὡς Σωκράτους; ἀλλὰ δύναμαί σε τραχηλοκοπῆσαι. καλῶς λέγεις. ἐξελαθόμην ὅτι σε δεῖ θεραπεύειν καὶ ὡς πυρετὸν καὶ ὡς χολέραν καὶ βωμὸν στῆσαι, ὡς ἐν Ῥώμῃ Πυρετοῦ βωμός ἐστιν.

[7] τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ ταράσσον καὶ καταπλῆττον τοὺς πολλούς; ὁ τύραννος καὶ οἱ δορυφόροι; πόθεν; μὴ γένοιτο· οὐκ ἐνδέχεται τὸ φύσει ἐλεύθερον ὑπʼ ἄλλου τινὸς ταραχθῆναι ἢ κωλυθῆναι πλὴν ὑφʼ ἑαυτοῦ.

[8] ἀλλὰ τὰ δόγματα αὐτὸν ταράσσει. ὅταν γὰρ ὁ τύραννος εἴπῃ τινὶ δήσω σου τὸ σκέλος, ὁ μὲν τὸ σκέλος τετιμηκὼς λέγει μή· ἐλέησον, ὁ δὲ τὴν προαίρεσιν τὴν ἑαυτοῦ λέγει εἴ σοι λυσιτελέστερον φαίνεται, δῆσον. οὐκ ἐπιστρέφῃ;

[9] οὐκ ἐπιστρέφομαι. ἐγώ σοι δείξω ὅτι κύριός εἰμι. πόθεν σύ; ἐμὲ ὁ Ζεὺς ἐλεύθερον ἀφῆκεν. ἢ δοκεῖς ὅτι ἔμελλεν τὸν ἴδιον υἱὸν ἐᾶν καταδουλοῦσθαι; τοῦ νεκροῦ δέ μου κύριος εἶ, λάβε αὐτόν.

[10] ὥσθʼ ὅταν μοι προσίῃς, ἐμὲ οὐ θεραπεύεις; οὐ· ἀλλʼ ἐμαυτόν. εἰ δὲ θέλεις με λέγειν ὅτι καὶ σέ, λέγω σοι οὕτως ὡς τὴν χύτραν.

[11] τοῦτο οὐκ ἔστιν φίλαυτον· γέγονε γὰρ οὕτως τὸ ζῷον· αὑτοῦ ἕνεκα πάντα ποιεῖ. καὶ γὰρ ὁ ἥλιος αὑτοῦ ἕνεκα πάντα ποιεῖ καὶ τὸ λοιπὸν αὐτὸς ὁ Ζεύς.

[12] ἀλλʼ ὅταν θέλῃ εἶναι Ὑέτιος καὶ Ἐπικάρπιος καὶ πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε, ὁρᾷς ὅτι τούτων τῶν ἔργων καὶ τῶν προσηγοριῶν οὐ δύναται τυχεῖν, ἂν μὴ εἰς τὸ κοινὸν ὠφέλιμος ᾖ.

[13] καθόλου τε τοιαύτην τὴν φύσιν τοῦ λογικοῦ ζῴου κατεσκεύασεν, ἵνα μηδενὸς τῶν ἰδίων ἀγαθῶν δύνηται τυγχάνειν, ἂν μή τι εἰς τὸ κοινὸν ὠφέλιμον προσφέρηται.

[14] οὕτως οὐκέτι ἀκοινώνητον γίνεται τὸ πάντα αὑτοῦ ἕνεκα ποιεῖν.

[15] ἐπεὶ τί ἐκδέχῃ; ἵνα τις ἀποστῇ αὑτοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἰδίου συμφέροντος; καὶ πῶς ἔτι μία καὶ ἡ αὐτὴ ἀρχὴ πᾶσιν ἔσται ἡ πρὸς αὐτὰ οἰκείωσις;

[16] τί οὖν; ὅταν ὑπῇ δόγματα ἀλλόκοτα περὶ τῶν ἀπροαιρέτων πὡς ὄντων ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν, πᾶσα ἀνάγκη θεραπεύειν τοὺς τυράννους.

[17] ὤφελον γὰρ τοὺς τυράννους μόνον, τοὺς κοιτωνίτας δʼ οὔ. πῶς δὲ καὶ φρόνιμος γίνεται ἐξαίφνης ὁ ἄνθρωπος, ὅταν Καῖσαρ αὐτὸν ἐπὶ τοῦ λασάνου ποιήσῃ· πῶς εὐθὺς λέγομεν φρονίμως μοι λελάληκεν Φηλικίων.

[18] ἤθελον αὐτὸν ἀποβληθῆναι τοῦ κοπρῶνος, ἵνα πάλιν ἄφρων σοι δοκῇ.

[19] εἶχέν τινα Ἐπαφρόδιτος σκυτέα, ὃν διὰ τὸ ἄχρηστον εἶναι ἐπώλησεν. εἶτα ἐκεῖνος κατά τινα δαίμονα ἀγορασθεὶς ὑπό τινος τῶν Καισαριανῶν τοῦ Καίσαρος σκυτεὺς ἐγένετο. εἶδες ἂν πῶς αὐτὸν ἐτίμα ὁ Ἐπαφρόδιτος·

[20] τί πράσσει Φηλικίων ὁ ἀγαθός;

[21] φιλῶ σε. εἶτα εἴ τις ἡμῶν ἐπύθετο τί ποιεῖ αὐτός; ἐλέγετο ὅτι μετὰ Φηλικίωνος βουλεύεται περί τινος.

[22] οὐχὶ γὰρ πεπράκει αὐτὸν ὡς ἄχρηστον; τίς οὖν αὐτὸν ἄφνω φρόνιμον ἐποίησεν;

[23] τοῦτʼ ἔστι τὸ τιμᾶν ἄλλο τι ἢ τὰ προαιρετικά.

[24] ἠξίωται δημαρχίας. πάντες οἱ ἀπαντῶντες συνήδονται· ἄλλος τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς καταφιλεῖ, ἄλλος τὸν τράχηλον, οἱ δοῦλοι τὰς χεῖρας. ἔρχεται εἰς οἶκον, εὑρίσκει λύχνους ἁπτομένους. ἀναβαίνει εἰς τὸ Καπιτώλιον, ἐπιθύει.

[25] τίς οὖν πώποτε ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὀρεχθῆναι καλῶς ἔθυσεν; ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὁρμῆσαι κατὰ φύσιν; ἐκεῖ γὰρ καὶ θεοῖς εὐχαριστοῦμεν, ὅπου τὸ ἀγαθὸν τιθέμεθα.

[26] σήμερόν τις ὑπὲρ ἱερωσύνης ἐλάλει μοι τοῦ Αὐγούστου. λέγω αὐτῷ ἄνθρωπε, ἄφες τὸ πρᾶγμα· δαπανήσεις πολλὰ εἰς οὐδέν.

[27] — ἀλλʼ οἱ τὰς φὠνάς, φησί, γράφοντες γράψουσι τὸ ἐμὸν ὄνομα. — μή τι οὖν σὺ τοῖς ἀναγιγνώσκουσι λέγεις παρών· ἐμὲ γεγράφασιν;

[28] εἰ δὲ καὶ νῦν δύνασαι παρεῖναι πᾶσιν, ἐὰν ἀποθάνῃς, τί ποιήσεις; — μενεῖ μου τὸ ὄνομα. — γράψον αὐτὸ εἰς λίθον καὶ μενεῖ. ἄγε ἔξω δὲ Νικοπόλεως τίς σου μνεία;

[29] — ἀλλὰ χρυσοῦν στέφανον φορήσω. — εἰ ἅπαξ ἐπιθυμεῖς στεφάνου, ῥόδινον λαβὼν περίθου· ὄψει γὰρ κομψότερον.

περὶ τοῦ λόγου πῶς αὑτοῦ θεωρητικός ἐστιν.

[1] πᾶσα τέχνη καὶ δύναμις προηγουμένων τινῶν ἐστι θεωρητική.

[2] ὅταν μὲν οὖν ὁμοειδὴς τοῖς θεωρουμένοις καὶ αὐτή, ἀναγκαίως καὶ αὑτῆς γίνεται θεωρητική· ὅταν δʼ ἀνομογενής, οὐ δύναται θεωρεῖν ἑαυτήν.

[3] οἷον σκυτικὴ περὶ δέρματα ἀναστρέφεται, αὐτὴ δὲ παντελῶς ἀπήλλακται τῆς ὕλης τῶν δερμάτων· διὰ τοῦτο οὐκ ἔστιν αὑτῆς θεωρητική.

[4] γραμματικὴ πάλιν περὶ τὴν ἐγγράμματον φωνήν· μή τι οὖν ἐστι καὶ αὐτὴ ἐγγράμματος φωνή; οὐδαμῶς. διὰ τοῦτο οὐ δύναται θεωρεῖν ἑαυτήν. ὁ οὖν λόγος πρὸς τί ποτε ὑπὸ τῆς φύσεως παρείληπται;

[5] πρὸς χρῆσιν φαντασιῶν οἵαν δεῖ. αὐτὸς οὖν τί ἐστιν; σύστημα ἐκ ποιῶν φαντασιῶν. οὕτως γίνεται φύσει καὶ αὑτοῦ θεωρητικός.

[6] πάλιν ἡ φρόνησις τίνα θεωρήσουσα παρελήλυθεν; ἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ καὶ οὐδέτερα. αὐτὴ οὖν τί ἐστιν; ἀγαθόν. ἡ δʼ ἀφροσύνη τί ἐστιν; κακόν. ὁρᾷς οὖν ὅτι ἀναγκαίως καὶ αὑτῆς γίνεται καὶ τῆς ἐναντίας θεωρητική;

[7] διὰ τοῦτο ἔργον τοῦ φιλοσόφου τὸ μέγιστον καὶ πρῶτον δοκιμάζειν τὰς φαντασίας καὶ διακρίνειν καὶ μηδεμίαν ἀδοκίμαστον προσφέρεσθαι.

[8] ὁρᾶτε ἐπὶ τοῦ νομίσματος, ὅπου δοκεῖ τι εἶναι πρὸς ἡμᾶς, πῶς καὶ τέχνην ἐξευρήκαμεν καὶ ὅσοις ὁ ἀργυρογνώμων προσχρῆται πρὸς δοκιμασίαν τοῦ νομίσματος, τῇ ὄψει, τῇ ἁφῇ, τῇ ὀσφρασίᾳ, τὰ τελευταῖα τῇ ἀκοῇ·

[9] ῥήξας τὸ δηνάριον τῷ ψόφῳ προσέχει καὶ οὐχ ἅπαξ ἀρκεῖται ψοφήσαντος, ἀλλʼ ὑπὸ τῆς πολλῆς προσοχῆς μουσικὸς γίνεται.

[10] οὕτως ὅπου διαφέρειν οἰόμεθα τὸ πλανᾶσθαι τοῦ μὴ πλανᾶσθαι, ἐνταῦθα πολλὴν προσοχὴν εἰσφέρομεν εἰς διάκρισιν τῶν διαπλανᾶν δυναμένων,

[11] ἐπὶ δὲ ταλαιπώρου ἡγεμονικοῦ χάσκοντες καὶ καθεύδοντες, πᾶσαν φαντασίαν παραπροσδεχόμεθα· ἡ γὰρ ζημία οὐ προσπίπτει.

[12] ὅταν οὖν θέλῃς γνῶναι, πῶς ἔχεις περὶ μὲν τἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ ἀνειμένως, περὶ τἀδιάφορα δʼ ἐσπευσμένως, ἐπίστησον πῶς ἔχεις πρὸς τὸ ἐκτυφλωθῆναι καὶ πῶς πρὸς τὸ ἐξαπατηθῆναι καὶ γνώσῃ ὅτι μακρὰν εἶ τοῦ ὡς δεῖ πεπονθέναι περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν.

[13] ἀλλὰ πολλῆς ἔχει χρείαν παρασκευῆς καὶ πόνου πολλοῦ καὶ μαθημάτων. τί οὖν; ἐλπίζεις ὅτι τὴν μεγίστην τέχνην ἀπὸ ὀλίγων ἔστιν ἀναλαβεῖν;

[14] καίτοι αὐτὸς μὲν ὁ προηγούμενος λόγος τῶν φιλοσόφων λίαν ἐστὶν ὀλίγος. εἰ θέλεις γνῶναι, ἀνάγνωθι τὰ Ζήνωνος καὶ ὄψει.

[15] τί γὰρ ἔχει μακρὸν εἰπεῖν ὅτι τέλος ἐστὶ τὸ ἕπεσθαι θεοῖς, οὐσία δʼ ἀγαθοῦ χρῆσις οἵα δεῖ φαντασιῶν;

[16] λέγε τί οὖν ἐστι θεὸς καὶ τί φαντασία; καὶ τί ἐστι φύσις ἡ ἐπὶ μέρους καὶ τί ἐστι φύσις ἡ τῶν ὅλων;

[17] ἤδη μακρόν. ἂν οὖν ἐλθὼν Ἐπίκουρος εἴπῃ, ὅτι ἐν σαρκὶ δεῖ εἶναι τὸ ἀγαθόν, πάλιν μακρὸν γίνεται καὶ ἀνάγκη ἀκοῦσαι τί τὸ προηγούμενόν ἐστιν ἐφʼ ἡμῶν, τί τὸ ὑποστατικὸν καὶ οὐσιῶδες. ὅτι τὸ κοχλίου ἀγαθὸν οὐκ εἰκὸς εἶναι ἐν τῷ κελύφει, τὸ οὖν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου εἰκός;

[18] σὺ δʼ αὐτὸς τί κυριώτερον ἔχεις, Ἐπίκουρε; τί ἐστιν ἐν σοὶ τὸ βουλευόμενον, τὸ ἐπισκεπτόμενον ἕκαστα, τὸ περὶ τῆς σαρκὸς αὐτῆς ὅτι τὸ προηγούμενόν ἐστιν τὸ ἐπικρῖνον;

[19] τί δὲ καὶ λύχνον ἅπτεις καὶ πονεῖς ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν καὶ τηλικαῦτα βιβλία γράφεις; ἵνα μὴ ἀγνοήσωμεν ἡμεῖς τὴν ἀλήθειαν; τίνες ἡμεῖς; τί πρὸς σὲ ὄντες; οὕτω μακρὸς ὁ λόγος γίνεται.

πρὸς τοὺς θαυμάζεσθαι θέλοντας.

[1] ὅταν τις ἣν δεῖ στάσιν ἔχῃ ἐν τῷ βίῳ, ἔξω οὐ κέχηνεν.

[2] ἄνθρωπε, τί θέλεις σοι γενέσθαι; ἐγὼ μὲν ἀρκοῦμαι, ἂν ὀρέγωμαι καὶ ἐκκλίνω κατὰ φύσιν, ἂν ὁρμῇ καὶ ἀφορμῇ χρῶμαι ὡς πέφυκα, ἂν προ σθέσει, ἂν ἐπιβολῇ, ἂν συγκαταθέσει. τί οὖν ἡμῖν ὀβελίσκον καταπιὼν περιπατεῖς;

[3] ἤθελον, ἵνα με καὶ οἱ ἀπαντῶντες θαυμάζωσιν καὶ ἐπακολουθοῦντες ἐπικραυγάζωσιν· ὦ μεγάλου φιλοσόφου.

[4] τίνες εἰσὶν οὗτοι, ὑφʼ ὧν θαυμάζεσθαι θέλεις; οὐχ οὗτοί εἰσι, περὶ ὧν εἴωθας λέγειν ὅτι μαίνονται; τί οὖν; ὑπὸ τῶν μαινομένων θαυμάζεσθαι θέλεις;

περὶ τῶν προλήψεων.

[1] προλήψεις κοιναὶ πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις εἰσίν· καὶ πρόληψις προλήψει οὐ μάχεται. τίς γὰρ ἡμῶν οὐ τίθησιν, ὅτι τὸ ἀγαθὸν συμφέρον ἐστὶ ἐστι καὶ αἱρετὸν καὶ ἐκ πάσης αὐτὸ περιστάσεως δεῖ μετιέναι καὶ διώκειν; τίς δʼ ἡμῶν οὐ τίθησιν, ὅτι τὸ δίκαιον καλόν ἐστι καὶ πρέπον;

[2] πότʼ οὖν ἡ μάχη γίνεται; περὶ τὴν ἐφαρμογὴν τῶν προλήψεων ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρους οὐσίαις,

[3] ὅταν ὁ μὲν εἴπῃ καλῶς ἐποίησεν, ἀνδρεῖός ἐστιν· οὔ, ἀλλʼ ἀπονενοημένος. ἔνθεν ἡ μάχη γίνεται τοῖς ἀνθρώποις πρὸς ἀλλήλους.

[4] αὕτη ἐστὶν ἡ Ἰουδαίων καὶ Σύρων καὶ Αἰγυπτίων καὶ Ῥωμαίων μάχη, οὐ περὶ τοῦ ὅτι τὸ ὅσιον πάντων προτιμητέον καὶ ἐν παντὶ μεταδιωκτέον, ἀλλὰ πότερόν ἐστιν ὅσιον τοῦτο τὸ χοιρείου φαγεῖν ἢ ἀνόσιον.

[5] ταύτην τὴν μάχην εὑρήσετε καὶ Ἀγαμέμνονος καὶ Ἀχιλλέως. κάλει γὰρ αὐτοὺς εἰς τὸ μέσον. τί λέγεις σύ, ὦ Ἀγάμεμνον; οὐ δεῖ γενέσθαι τὰ δέοντα καὶ τὰ καλῶς ἔχοντα;

[6] δεῖ μὲν οὖν. σὺ δὲ τί λέγεις, ὦ Ἀχιλλεῦ; οὐκ ἀρέσκει σοι γίνεσθαι τὰ καλῶς ἔχοντα; ἐμοὶ μὲν οὖν πάντων μάλιστα ἀρέσκει. ἐφαρμόσατε οὖν τὰς προλήψεις. ἐντεῦθεν ἡ ἀρχὴ μάχης.

[7] ὁ μὲν λέγει οὐ χρὴ ἀποδιδόναι με τὴν Χρυσηίδα τῷ πατρί, ὁ δὲ λέγει δεῖ μὲν οὖν. πάντως ὁ ἕτερος αὐτῶν κακῶς ἐφαρμόζει τὴν πρόληψιν τοῦ δέοντος.

[8] πάλιν ὁ μὲν λέγει οὐκοῦν, εἴ με δεῖ ἀποδοῦναι τὴν Χρυσηίδα, δεῖ με λαβεῖν ὑμῶν τινος τὸ γέρας, ὁ δέ τὴν ἐμὴν οὖν λάβῃς ἐρωμένην;. τὴν σήν φησίν. ἐγὼ οὖν μόνος — ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ μόνος μὴ ἔχω; οὕτως μάχη γίνεται.

[9] τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ παιδεύεσθαι; μανθάνειν τὰς φυσικὰς προλήψεις ἐφαρμόζειν ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρους οὐσίαις καταλλήλως τῇ φύσει καὶ λοιπὸν διελεῖν,

[10] ὅτι τῶν ὄντων τὰ μέν ἐστιν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν, τὰ δὲ οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν· ἐφʼ ἡμῖν μὲν προαίρεσις καὶ πάντα τὰ προαιρετικὰ ἔργα, οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν δὲ τὸ σῶμα, τὰ μέρη τοῦ σώματος, κτήσεις, γονεῖς, ἀδελφοὶ, τέκνα, πατρίς, ἁπλῶς οἱ κοινωνοί.

[11] ποῦ οὖν θῶμεν τὸ ἀγαθόν; ποίᾳ οὐσίᾳ αὐτὸ ἐφαρμόσομεν; τῇ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν;

[12] — εἶτα οὐκ ἔστιν ἀγαθὸν ὑγίεια καὶ ἀρτιότης καὶ ζωή, ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ τέκνα οὐδὲ γονεῖς οὐδὲ πατρίς; — καὶ τίς σου ἀνέξεται;

[13] μεταθῶμεν οὖν αὐτὸ πάλιν ἐνθάδε. ἐνδέχεται οὖν βλαπτόμενον καὶ ἀποτυγχάνοντα τῶν ἀγαθῶν εὐδαιμονεῖν; — οὐκ ἐνδέχεται. — καὶ τὴν πρὸς τοὺς κοινωνοὺς οἵαν δεῖ ἀναστροφήν; καὶ πῶς ἐνδέχεται;

[14] ἐγὼ γὰρ πέφυκα πρὸς τὸ ἐμὸν συμφέρον. εἰ συμφέρει μοι ἀγρὸν ἔχειν, συμφέρει μοι καὶ ἀφελέσθαι αὐτὸν τοῦ πλησίον· εἰ συμφέρει μοι ἱμάτιον ἔχειν, συμφέρει μοι καὶ κλέψαι αὐτὸ ἐκ βαλανείου. ἔνθεν πόλεμοι, στάσεις, τυραννίδες, ἐπιβουλαί.

[15] πῶς δʼ ἔτι δυνήσομαι τὸ πρὸς τὸν Δία καθῆκον; εἰ γὰρ βλάπτομαι καὶ ἀτυχῶ, οὐκ ἐπιστρέφεταί μου. καὶ τί μοι καὶ αὐτῷ, εἰ οὐ δύναταί μοι βοηθῆσαι; καὶ πάλιν τί μοι καὶ αὐτῷ, εἰ θέλει μʼ ἐν τοιούτοις εἶναι ἐν οἷς εἰμι; ἄρχομαι λοιπὸν μισεῖν αὐτόν.

[16] τί οὖν ναοὺς ποιοῦμεν, τί οὖν ἀγάλματα, ὡς κακοῖς δαίμοσιν, ὡς πυρετῷ τῷ Διί; καὶ πῶς ἔτι Σωτὴρ καὶ πῶς Ὑέτιος καὶ πῶς Ἐπικάρπιος; καὶ μήν, ἂν ἐνταῦθά που θῶμεν τὴν οὐσίαν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ, πάντα ταῦτα ἐξακολουθεῖ.

[17] τί οὖν ποιήσωμεν;— αὕτη ἐστὶ ζήτησις τοῦ φιλοσοφοῦντος τῷ ὄντι καὶ ὠδίνοντος· νῦν ἐγὼ οὐχ ὁρῶ τί ἐστι τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ κακόν· οὐ μαίνομαι;

[18] ναί· ἀλλʼ ἂν ἐνταῦθά που θῶ τὸ ἀγαθόν, ἐν τοῖς προαιρετικοῖς, πάντες μου καταγελάσονται. ἥξει τις γέρων πολιὸς χρυσοῦς δακτυλίους ἔχων πολλούς, εἶτα ἐπισείσας τὴν κεφαλὴν ἐρεῖ ἄκουσόν μου, τέκνον· δεῖ μὲν καὶ φιλοσοφεῖν, δεῖ δὲ καὶ ἐγκέφαλον ἔχειν· ταῦτα μωρά ἐστιν. σὺ παρὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων μανθάνεις συλλογισμόν,

[19] τί δέ σοι ποιητέον ἐστίν, σὺ κάλλιον οἶδας ἢ οἱ φιλόσοφοι. ἄνθρωπε, τί οὖν μοι ἐπιτιμᾷς, εἰ οἶδα;

[20] τούτῳ τῷ ἀνδραπόδῳ τί εἴπω;

[21] ἂν σιωπῶ, ῥήγνυται ἐκεῖνος. ὡς δεῖ λέγειν ὅτι σύγγνωθί μοι ὡς τοῖς ἐρῶσιν· οὐκ εἰμὶ ἐμαυτοῦ, μαίνομαι.

πρὸς Ἐπίκουρον.

[1] ἐπινοεῖ καὶ Ἐπίκουρος ὅτι φύσει ἐσμὲν κοινωνικοί, ἀλλʼ ἅπαξ ἐν τῷ κελύφει θεὶς τὸ ἀγαθὸν ἡμῶν οὐκέτι δύναται ἄλλο οὐδὲν εἰπεῖν.

[2] πάλιν γὰρ ἐκείνου λίαν κρατεῖ, ὅτι οὐ δεῖ ἀπεσπασμένον οὐδὲν τῆς τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ οὐσίας οὔτε θαυμάζειν οὔτʼ ἀποδέχεσθαι· καὶ καλῶς αὐτοῦ κρατεῖ.

[3] πῶς οὖν ὑπονοητικοί ἐσμεν, οἷς μὴ φυσικὴ ἔστι πρὸς τὰ ἔγγονα φιλοστοργία; διὰ τί ἀποσυμβουλεύεις τῷ σοφῷ τεκνοτροφεῖν; τί φοβῇ μὴ διὰ ταῦτα εἰς λύπας ἐμπέσῃ;

[4] διὰ γὰρ τὸν μῦν τὸν ἔσω τρεφόμενον ἐμπίπτει; τί οὖν αὐτῷ μέλει, ἂν μυίδιον μικρὸν ἔσω κατακλαίῃ αὐτοῦ;

[5] ἀλλʼ οἶδεν, ὅτι, ἂν ἅπαξ γένηται παιδίον, οὐκέτι ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἐστι μὴ στέργειν μηδὲ φροντίζειν ἐπʼ αὐτῷ.

[6] διὰ τοῦτο φησὶν οὐδὲ πολιτεύσεσθαι τὸν νοῦν ἔχοντα· οἶδεν γὰρ τίνα δεῖ ποιεῖν τὸν πολιτευόμενον· ἐπείτοι εἰ ὡς ἐν μυίαις μέλλεις ἀναστρέφεσθαι, τί κωλύει;

[7] ἀλλʼ ὅμως εἰδὼς ταῦτα τολμᾷ λέγειν ὅτι μὴ ἀναιρώμεθα τέκνα. ἀλλὰ πρόβατον μὲν οὐκ ἀπολείπει τὸ αὑτοῦ ἔγγονον οὐδὲ λύκος, ἄνθρωπος δʼ ἀπολείπει;

[8] τί θέλεις; μωροὺς ἡμᾶς εἶναι ὡς τὰ πρόβατα; οὐδʼ ἐκεῖνα ἀπολείπει. θηριώδεις ὡς τοὺς λύκους; οὐδʼ ἐκεῖνοι ἀπολείπουσιν.

[9] ἄγε, τίς δέ σοι πείθεται ἰδὼν παιδίον αὐτοῦ κλαῖον ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν πεπτωκός;

[10] ἐγὼ μὲν οἶμαι ὅτι εἰ καὶ ἐμαντεύσατο ἡ μήτηρ σου καὶ ὁ πατήρ, ὅτι μέλλεις ταῦτα λέγειν, οὐκ ἄν σε ἔρριψαν.

πῶς πρὸς τὰς περιστάσεις ἀγωνιστέον.

[1] αἱ περιστάσεις εἰσὶν αἱ τοὺς ἄνδρας δεικνύουσαι. λοιπὸν ὅταν ἐμπέσῃ περίστασις, μέμνησο ὅτι ὁ θεός σε ὡς ἀλείπτης τραχεῖ νεανίσκῳ συμβέβληκεν. —

[2] ἵνα τί; φησίν. — ἵνα Ὀλυμπιονίκης γένῃ· δίχα δʼ ἱδρῶτος οὐ γίγνεται. ἐμοὶ μὲν οὐδεὶς δοκεῖ κρείσσονα ἐσχηκέναι περίστασιν ἧς σὺ ἔσχηκας, ἂν θέλῃς ὡς ἀθλητὴς νεανίσκῳ χρῆσθαι.

[3] καὶ νῦν ἡμεῖς γε εἰς τὴν Ῥώμην κατάσκοπον πέμπομεν. οὐδεὶς δὲ δειλὸν κατάσκοπον πέμπει, ἵνʼ, ἂν μόνον ἀκούσῃ ψόφου καὶ σκιάν ποθεν ἴδῃ, τρέχων ἔλθῃ τεταραγμένος καὶ λέγων ἤδη παρεῖναι τοὺς πολεμίους.

[4] οὕτως νῦν καὶ σὺ ἂν ἐλθὼν ἡμῖν εἴπῃς φοβερὰ τὰ ἐν Ῥώμῃ πράγματα, δεινόν ἐστι θάνατος, δεινόν ἐστι φυγή, δεινὸν λοιδορία, δεινὸν πενία· φεύγετε ἄνδρες, πάρεισιν οἱ πολέμιοι,

[5] ἐροῦμέν σοι ἄπελθε, σεαυτῷ μαντεύου· ἡμεῖς τοῦτο μόνον ἡμάρτομεν, ὅτι τοιοῦτον κατάσκοπον ἐπέμπομεν.

[6] πρὸ σοῦ κατάσκοπος ἀποσταλεὶς Διογένης ἄλλα ἡμῖν ἀπήγγελκεν. λέγει ὅτι ὁ θάνατος οὐκ ἔστι κακόν, οὐδὲ γὰρ αἰσχρόν· λέγει ὅτι ἀδοξία ψόφος ἐστὶ μαινομένων ἀνθρώπων.

[7] οἷα δὲ περὶ πόνου, οἷα δὲ περὶ ἡδονῆς, οἷα περὶ πενίας εἴρηκεν οὗτος ὁ κατάσκοπος. τὸ δὲ γυμν ασιὸν εἶναι λέγει ὅτι κρεῖσσόν ἐστι πάσης περιπορφύρου· τὸ δʼ ἐπʼ ἀστρώτῳ πέδῳ καθεύδειν λέγει ὅτι μαλακωτάτη κοίτη ἐστίν.

[8] καὶ ἀπόδειξιν φέρει περὶ ἑκάστου τὸ θάρσος τὸ αὑτοῦ, τὴν ἀταραξίαν, τὴν ἐλευθερίαν, εἶτα καὶ τὸ σωμάτιον στίλβον καὶ συνεστραμμένον.

[9] οὐδείς, φησίν, πολέμιος ἐγγύς ἐστιν· πάντα εἰρήνης γέμει. πῶς, ὦ Διόγενες; ἰδού, φησίν, μή τι βέβλημαι, μή τι τέτρωμαι, μή τινα πέφευγα;

[10] τοῦτʼ ἔστιν οἷος δεῖ κατάσκοπος, σὺ δʼ ἡμῖν ἐλθὼν ἄλλα ἐξ ἄλλων λέγεις. οὐκ ἀπελεύσῃ πάλιν καὶ ὄψει ἀκριβέστερον δίχα τῆς δειλίας;

[11] τί οὖν ποιήσω;— τί ποιεῖς, ἐκ πλοίου ὅταν ἐξίῃς; μή τι τὸ πηδάλιον αἴρεις, μή τι τὰς κώπας; τί οὖν αἴρεις; τὰ σά, τὴν λήκυθον, τὴν πήραν. καὶ νῦν ἂν ᾖς μεμνημένος τῶν σῶν, οὐδέποτε τῶν ἀλλοτρίων ἀντιποιήσῃ.

[12] λέγει σοι θὲς τὴν πλατύσημον· ἰδοὺ στενόσημος. θὲς καὶ ταύτην· ἰδοὺ ἱμάτιον μόνον. θὲς τὸ ἱμάτιον·

[13] ἰδοὺ γυμνός. ἀλλὰ φθόνον μοι κινεῖς. λάβε τοίνυν ὅλον τὸ σωμάτιον. ᾧ δύναμαι ῥῖψαι τὸ σωμάτιον, ἔτι τοῦτον φοβοῦμαι;

[14] ἀλλὰ κληρονόμον μʼ οὐκ ἀπολείψει. τί οὖν; ἐπελαθόμην ὅτι τούτων οὐδὲν ἐμὸν ἦν; πῶς οὖν ἐμὰ αὐτὰ λέγομεν; ὡς τὸν κράβαττον ἐν τῷ πανδοκείῳ. ἂν οὖν ὁ πανδοκεὺς ἀποθανὼν ἀπολίπῃ σοι τοὺς κραβάττους· ἂν δʼ ἄλλῳ, ἐκεῖνος ἕξει, σὺ δʼ ἄλλον ζητήσεις·

[15] ἂν οὖν μὴ εὕρῃς, χαμαὶ κοιμήσῃ μόνον θαρρῶν καὶ ῥέγκων καὶ μεμνημένος ὅτι ἐν τοῖς πλουσίοις καὶ βασιλεῦσι καὶ τυράννοις αἱ τραγῳδίαι τόπον ἔχουσιν, οὐδεὶς δὲ πένης τραγῳδίαν συμπληροῖ εἰ μὴ ὡς χορευτής.

[16] οἱ δὲ βασιλεῖς ἄρχονται μὲν ἀπʼ ἀγαθῶν·

στέψατε δώματα·

εἶτα περὶ τρίτον ἢ τέταρτον μέρος·

ἰὼ Κιθαιρών, τί μʼ ἐδέχου;

ἀνδράποδον, ποῦ οἱ στέφανοι, ποῦ τὸ διάδημα;

[17] οὐδέν σε ὠφελοῦσιν οἱ δορυφόροι;

[18] ὅταν οὖν ἐκείνων τινὶ προσίῃς, τούτων μέμνησο, ὅτι τραγῳδῷ προσέρχῃ, οὐ τῷ ὑποκριτῇ, ἀλλʼ αὐτῷ τῷ Οἰδίποδι.

[19] ἀλλὰ μακάριος ὁ δεῖνα· μετὰ πολλῶν γὰρ περιπατεῖ. κἀγὼ συγκατατάττω ἐμαυτὸν σὺν τοῖς πολλοῖς καὶ μετὰ πολλῶν περιπατῶ.

[20] τὸ δὲ κεφάλαιον· μέμνησο ὅτι ἡ θύρα ἤνοικται. μὴ γίνου τῶν παιδίων δειλότερος, ἀλλʼ ὡς ἐκεῖνα, ὅταν αὐτοῖς μὴ ἀρέσκῃ τὸ πρᾶγμα, λέγει οὐκέτι παίξω, καὶ σύ, ὅταν σοι φαίνηταί τινα εἶναι τοιαῦτα, εἰπὼν οὐκέτι παίξω ἀπαλλάσσου, μένων δὲ μὴ θρήνει.

πρὸς τὸ αὐτό.

[1] εἰ ταῦτα ἀληθῆ ἐστι καὶ μὴ βλακεύομεν μηδʼ ὑποκρινόμεθα ὅτι τὸ ἀγαθὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐν προαιρέσει καὶ τὸ κακόν, τὰ δʼ ἄλλα πάντα οὐδὲν πρὸς ἡμᾶς, τί ἔτι ταρασσόμεθα, τί ἔτι φοβούμεθα; περὶ ἃ ἐσπουδάκαμεν, τούτων ἐξουσίαν οὐδεὶς ἔχει·

[2] ὧν ἐξουσίαν οἱ ἄλλοι ἔχουσιν, τούτων οὐκ ἐπιστρεφόμεθα. ποῖον ἔτι πρᾶγμα ἔχομεν;

[3] — ἀλλὰ ἔντειλαί μοι. — τί σοι ἐντείλωμαι; ὁ Ζεύς σοι οὐκ ἐντέταλται; οὐ δέδωκέν σοι τὰ μὲν σὰ ἀκώλυ στα καὶ ἀπαραπόδιστα, τὰ δὲ μὴ σὰ κωλυτὰ καὶ παραποδιστά;

[4] τίνα οὖν ἐντολὴν ἔχων ἐκεῖθεν ἐλήλυθας, ποῖον διάταγμα; τὰ σὰ τήρει ἐκ παντὸς τρόπου, τῶν ἀλλοτρίων μὴ ἐφίεσο. τὸ πιστὸν σόν · τίς οὖν ἀφελέσθαι δύναταί σου ταῦτα; τίς κωλύσει χρῆσθαι αὐτοῖς ἄλλος εἰ μὴ σύ; σὺ δὲ πῶς; ὅταν περὶ τὰ μὴ σαυτοῦ σπουδάσῃς, τὰ σαυτοῦ ἀπώλεσας.

[5] τοιαύτας ἔχων ὑποθήκας καὶ ἐντολὰς παρὰ τοῦ Διὸς ποίας ἔτι παρʼ ἐμοῦ θέλεις; κρείσσων εἰμὶ ἐκείνου, ἀξιοπιστότερος;

[6] ἀλλὰ ταύτας τηρῶν ἄλλων τινῶν προσδέῃ; ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνος οὐκ ἐντέταλται ταῦτα; φέρε τὰς προλήψεις, φέρε τὰς ἀποδείξεις τὰς τῶν φιλοσόφων, φέρε ἃ πολλάκις ἤκουσας, φέρε δʼ ἃ εἶπας αὐτός, φέρε ἃ ἀνέγνως, φέρε ἃ ἐμελέτησας.

[7] μέχρις οὖ ν τίνος ταῦτα τηρεῖν καλῶς ἔχει ς καὶ τὴν παιδιὰν μὴ λύειν;

[8] μέχρις ἂν κομψῶς διεξάγηται. ἐν Σατορναλίοις λέλογχεν βασιλεύς· ἔδοξε γὰρ παῖξαι ταύτην τὴν παιδιάν. προστάσσει σὺ πίε, σὺ κέρασον, σὺ ᾆσον, σὺ ἄπελθε, σὺ ἐλθέ. ὑπακούω, ἵνα μὴ παρʼ ἐμὲ λύηται ἡ παιδιά.

[9] ἀλλὰ σὺ ὑπολάμβανε ὅτι ἐν κακοῖς εἶ. οὐχ ὑπολαμβάνω· καὶ τίς μʼ ἀναγκάσει ὑπολαμβάνειν;

[10] πάλιν συνεθέμεθα παῖξαι τὰ περὶ Ἀγαμέμνονα καὶ Ἀχιλλέα. καταταγεὶς Ἀγαμέμνων λέγει μοι πορεύου πρὸς τὸν Ἀχιλλέα καὶ ἀπόσπασον τὴν Βρισηίδα. πορεύομαι.

[11] ἔρχου. ἔρχομαι. ὡς γὰρ ἐπὶ τῶν ὑποθετικῶν λόγων ἀναστρεφόμεθα, οὕτως δεῖ καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦ βίου. ἔστω νύξ. ἔστω. τί οὖν; ἡμέρα ἐστίν; οὔ· ἔλαβον γὰρ ὑπόθεσιν τοῦ νύκτα εἶναι.

[12] ἔστω σε ὑπολαμβάνειν ὅτι νύξ ἐστιν. ἔστω. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὑπόλαβε ὅτι νύξ ἐστιν. οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ τῇ ὑποθέσει.

[13] οὕτως καὶ ἐνταῦθα. ἔστω σε εἶναι δυστυχῆ. ἔστω. ἆρʼ οὖν ἀτυχὴς εἶ; ναί. τί οὖν; κακοδαιμονεῖς; ναί. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὑπόλαβε ὅτι ἐν κακοῖς εἶ. οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ τῇ ὑποθέσει· καὶ ἄλλος με κωλύει.

[14] μέχρι πόσου οὖν ὑπακουστέον τοῖς τοιούτοις; μέχρις ἂν οὗ λυσιτελῇ, τοῦτο δʼ ἔστιν μέχρις ἂν οὗ σῴζω τὸ πρέπον καὶ κατάλληλον.

[15] λοιπὸν οἱ μέν εἰσι κακαύστηροι καὶ κακοστόμαχοι καὶ λέγουσιν ἐγὼ οὐ δύναμαι παρὰ τούτῳ δειπνεῖν, ἵνʼ αὐτοῦ ἀνέχομαι καθʼ ἡμέραν διηγουμένου, πῶς ἐν Μυσίᾳ ἐπολέμησεν· διηγησάμην σοι, ἀδελφέ, πῶς ἐπὶ τὸν λόφον ἀνέβην· πάλιν ἄρχομαι πολιορκεῖσθαι.

[16] ἄλλος λέγει ἐγὼ δειπνῆσαι θέλω μᾶλλον καὶ ἀκούειν αὐτοῦ ὅσα θέλει ἀδολεσχοῦντος.

[17] καὶ σὺ σύγκρινε ταύτας τὰς ἀξίας· μόνον μηδὲν βαρούμενος ποίει, μὴ θλιβόμενος μηδʼ ὑπολαμβάνων ἐν κακοῖς εἶναι· τοῦτο γὰρ οὐδείς σε ἀναγκάζει.

[18] καπνὸν πεποίηκεν ἐν τῷ οἰκήματι; ἂν μέτριον, μενῶ· ἂν λίαν πολύν, ἐξέρχομαι. τούτου γὰρ μεμνῆσθαι καὶ κρατεῖν, ὅτι ἡ θύρα ἤνοικται.

[19] ἀλλὰ μὴ οἴκει ἐν Νικοπόλει. οὐκ οἰκῶ. μηδʼ ἐν Ἀθήναις. οὐδʼ ἐν Ἀθήναις. μηδʼ ἐν Ῥώμῃ. οὐδʼ ἐν Ῥώμῃ. ἐν Γυάροις οἴκει. οἰκῶ. ἀλλὰ πολύς μοι καπνὸς φαίνεται τὸ ἐν Γυάροις οἰκεῖν.

[20] ἀποχωρῶ, ὅπου μʼ οὐδεὶς κωλύσει οἰκεῖν· ἐκείνη γὰρ ἡ οἴκησις παντὶ ἤνοικται.

[21] καὶ τὸ τελευταῖον χιτωνάριον, τοῦτʼ ἔστι τὸ σωμάτιον, τούτου ἀνωτέρω οὐδενὶ οὐδὲν εἰς ἐμὲ ἔξεστιν.

[22] διὰ τοῦτο ὁ Δημήτριος εἶπεν τῷ Νέρωνι ἀπειλεῖς μοι θάνατον, σοὶ δʼ ἡ φύσις.

[23] ἂν δὲ τὸ σωμάτιον θαυμάσω, δοῦλον ἐμαυτὸν παραδέδωκα· ἂν τὸ κτησείδιον, δοῦλον.

[24] εὐθὺς γὰρ ἐμαὐτὸς κατʼ ἐμαυτοῦ δηλῶ, τίνι ἁλωτός εἰμι. ὡς ὁ ὄφις ἐὰν συσπᾷ τὴν κεφαλήν, λέγω ἐκεῖνο αὐτοῦ τύπτε ὃ φυλάσσει. καὶ σὺ γίγνωσκε, ὅτι ὃ ἂν φυλάσσειν ἐθέλῃς, κατʼ ἐκεῖνο ἐπιβήσεταί σοι ὁ κύριος.

[25] τούτων μεμνημένος τίνα ἔτι κολακεύσεις ἢ φοβήσῃ;

[26] ἀλλὰ θέλω καθῆσθαι ὅπου οἱ συγκλητικοί.— ὁρᾷς ὅτι σὺ σαυτῷ στενοχωρίαν παρέχεις, σὺ σαυτὸν θλίβεις;

[27] — πῶς οὖν ἄλλως θεωρήσω καλῶς ἐν τῷ ἀμφιθεάτρῳ; — ἄνθρωπε, καὶ μὴ θεώρει καὶ οὐ μὴ θλιβῇς. τί πράγματα ἔχεις; ἢ μικρὸν ἔκδεξαι καὶ ἀχθείσης τῆς θεωρίας κάθισον εἰς τοὺς τῶν συγκλητικῶν τόπους καὶ ἡλιάζου.

[28] καθόλου γὰρ ἐκείνου μέμνησο, ὅτι ἑαυτοὺς θλίβομεν, ἑαυτοὺς στενοχωροῦμεν, τοῦτʼ ἔστιν τὰ δόγματα ἡμᾶς θλίβει καὶ στενοχωρεῖ.

[29] ἐπεὶ τί ἐστιν αὐτὸ τὸ λοιδορεῖσθαι; παραστὰς λίθον λοιδόρει· καὶ τί ποιήσεις; ἂν οὖν τις ὡς λίθος ἀκούῃ, τί ὄφελος τῷ λοιδοροῦντι; ἂν δʼ ἔχῃ τὴν ἀσθένειαν τοῦ λοιδορουμένου ὁ λοιδορῶν ἐπιβάθραν, τότε ἀνύει τι.

[30] περίσχισον αὐτόν. τί λέγεις αὐτόν; τὸ ἱμάτιον λάβε, περίσχισον.

[31] ὕβριν σοι πεποίηκα. καλῶς σοι γένοιτο. ταῦτα ἐμελέτα Σωκράτης, διὰ τοῦτο ἓν ἔχων πρόσωπον ἀεὶ διετέλει. ἡμεῖς δὲ θέλομεν πάντα μᾶλλον ἀσκεῖν καὶ μελετᾶν ἢ ὅπως ἀπαραπόδιστοι καὶ ἐλεύθεροι ἐσόμεθα.

[32] παράδοξα λέγουσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι. ἐν δὲ ταῖς ἄλλαις τέχναις οὐκ ἔστι παράδοξα; καὶ τί παραδοξότερόν ἐστιν ἢ κεντεῖν τινος τὸν ὀφθαλμόν, ἵνα ἴδῃ; εἴ τις ἀπείρῳ τῶν ἰατρικῶν τοῦτο εἶπεν, οὐκ ἂν κατεγέλα τοῦ λέγοντος;

[33] τί οὖν θαυμαστὸν εἰ καὶ ἐν φιλοσοφίᾳ πολλὰ τῶν ἀληθῶν παράδοξα φαίνεται τοῖς ἀπείροις;

τίς ὁ βιωτικὸς νόμος.

[1] ἀναγιγνώσκοντος δὲ τοὺς ὑποθετικοὺς ἔφη Νόμος ὑποθετικός ἐστι καὶ οὗτος τὸ ἀκόλουθον τῇ ὑποθέσει παραδέχεσθαι. πολὺ πρότερον δὲ νόμος βιωτικός ἐστιν οὗτος τὸ ἀκόλουθον τῇ φύσει πράττειν.

[2] εἰ γὰρ ἐπὶ πάσης ὕλης καὶ περιστάσεως βουλόμεθα τηρῆσαι τὸ κατὰ φύσιν, δῆλον ὅτι ἐν παντὶ στοχαστέον τοῦ μήτε τὸ ἀκόλουθον ἡμᾶς ἐκφυγεῖν μήτε παραδέξασθαι τὸ μαχόμενον.

[3] πρῶτον οὖν ἐπὶ τῆς θεωρίας γυμνάζουσιν ἡμᾶς οἱ φιλόσοφοι ὅπου ῥᾷον, εἶτα οὕτως ἐπὶ τὰ χαλεπώτερα ἄγουσιν· ἐνταῦθα γὰρ οὐδέν ἐστι τὸ ἀνθέλκον ὡς πρὸς τὸ ἀκολουθῆσαι τοῖς διδασκομένοις, ἐπὶ δὲ τῶν βιωτικῶν πολλὰ τὰ περισπῶντα. γελοῖος οὖν ὁ λέγων πρῶτον βούλεσθαι ἐπʼ ἐκείνων·

[4] οὐ γὰρ ῥᾴδιον ἄρχεσθαι ἀπὸ τῶν χαλεπωτέρων.

[5] καὶ τοῦτον ἀπολογισμὸν ἔδει φέρειν πρὸς τοὺς γονεῖς τοὺς ἀγανακτοῦντας ἐπὶ τῷ φιλοσοφεῖν τὰ τέκνα. οὐκοῦν ἁμαρτάνω, πάτερ, καὶ οὐκ οἶδα τὸ ἐπιβάλλον ἐμαυτῷ καὶ προσῆκον· εἰ μὲν οὐδὲ μαθητόν ἐστιν οὐδὲ διδακτόν, τί μοι ἐγκαλεῖς; εἰ δὲ διδακτόν, δίδασκε· εἰ δὲ σὺ μὴ δύνασαι, ἄφες με μαθεῖν παρὰ τῶν λεγόντων εἰδέναι.

[6] ἐπεὶ τί δοκεῖς; ὅτι θέλων περιπίπτω κακῷ καὶ ἀποτυγχάνω τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ; μὴ γένοιτο. τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ αἴτιον τοῦ ἁμαρτάνειν με;

[7] ἡ ἄγνοια. οὐ θέλεις οὖν ἀποθῶμαι τὴν ἄγνοιαν; τίνα πώποτε ὀργὴ ν ἐδίδαξε τὰ κυβερνητικά, τὰ μουσικά; τὰ βιωτικὰ οὖν διὰ τὴν ὀργήν σου δοκεῖς ὅτι μαθήσομαι;

[8] ταῦτα ἐκείνῳ μόνῳ λέγειν ἔξεστι τῷ τοιαύτην ἐπιβολὴν ἐνηνοχότι.

[9] εἰ δέ τις μόνον ἐπιδείκνυσθαι θέλων ἐν συμποσίῳ ὅτι οἶδεν τοὺς ὑποθετικοὺς ἀναγιγνώσκει ταῦτα καὶ προσέρχεται τοῖς φιλοσόφοις, οὗτος ἄλλο τι πράσσει ἵνα αὐτὸν συγκλητικὸς παρακατακείμενος θαυμάσει;

[10] ἐκεῖ γὰρ τῷ ὄντι αἱ μεγάλαι ὗλαί εἰσι καὶ οἱ ἐνθάδε πλοῦτοι ἐκεῖ παίγνια δοκοῦσιν. διὰ τοῦτο ἐκεῖ δύσκολον κρατῆσαι τῶν αὑτοῦ φαντασιῶν, ὅπου τὰ ἐκ σείοντα μεγάλα.

[11] ἐγώ τινα οἶδα κλαίοντα Ἐπαφροδίτου τῶν γονάτων ἁπτόμενον καὶ λέγοντα ταλαιπωρεῖν· ἀπολελεῖφθαι γὰρ αὐτῷ μηδέν, εἰ μὴ ἑκατὸν πεντήκοντα μυριάδας.

[12] τί οὖν ὁ Ἐπαφρόδιτος; κατεγέλασεν ὡς ὑμεῖς; οὔ· ἀλλʼ ἐπιθαυμάσας λέγει τάλας, πῶς οὖν ἐσιώπας, πῶς ἐκαρτέρεις;

[13] ταράξας δὲ τὸν ἀναγιγνώσκοντα τοὺς ὑποθετικοὺς καὶ γελάσαντος τοῦ ὑποθεμένου αὐτῷ τὴν ἀνάγνωσιν Σεαυτοῦ, ἔφη, καταγελᾷς· οὐ προεγύμνασας τὸν νεανίσκον οὐδʼ ἔγνως εἰ δύναται τούτοις παρακολουθεῖν, ἀλλʼ ὡς ἀναγνώστῃ αὐτῷ χρῇ.

[14] τί οὖν, ἔφη, μὴ δυναμένῃ διανοίᾳ συμπεπλεγμένου ἐπικρίσει παρακολουθεῖν ἔπαινον πιστεύομεν, ψόγον πιστεύομεν, ἐπίκρισιν περὶ τῶν καλῶς ἢ κακῶς γινομένων; κἄν τινα κακῶς λέγῃ, οὗτος ἐπιστρέφεται, κἂν ἐπαινῇ τινα, ἐπαίρεται; ἐν τοῖς οὕτως μικροῖς μὴ εὑρίσκων τὸ ἑξῆς;

[15] αὕτη οὖν ἀρχὴ τοῦ φιλοσοφεῖν, αἴσθησις τοῦ ἰδίου ἡγεμονικοῦ πῶς ἔχει· μετὰ γὰρ τὸ γνῶναι ὅτι ἀσθενῶς οὐκ ἔτι θελήσει χρῆσθαι αὐτῷ πρὸς τὰ μεγάλα.

[16] νῦν δὲ μὴ δυνάμενοί τινες τὸν ψωμὸν καταπίνειν σύνταξιν ἀγοράσαντες ἐπιβάλλονται ἐσθίειν. διὰ τοῦτο ἐμοῦσιν ἢ ἀπεπτοῦσιν· εἶτα στρόφοι καὶ κατάρροιαι καὶ πυρετοί. ἔδει δʼ ἐφιστάνειν, εἰ δύνανται.

[17] ἀλλʼ ἐν μὲν θεωρίᾳ ῥᾴδιον ἐξελέγξαι τὸν οὐκ εἰδότα, ἐν δὲ τοῖς κατὰ τὸν βίον οὔτε παρέχει ἑαυτόν τις ἐλέγχῳ τόν τʼ ἐξελέγξαντα μισοῦμεν.

[18] ὁ δὲ Σωκράτης ἔλεγεν ἀνεξέταστον βίον μὴ ζῆν.

ποσαχῶς αἱ φαντασίαι γίνονται καὶ τίνα πρόχειρα πρὸς αὐτὰς βοηθήματα παρασκευαστέον.

[1] τετραχῶς αἱ φαντασίαι γίνονται ἡμῖν· ἢ γὰρ ἔστι τινὰ καὶ οὕτως φαίνεται ἢ οὐκ ὄντα οὐδὲ φαίνεται ὅτι ἔστιν ἢ ἔστι καὶ οὐ φαίνεται ἢ οὐκ ἔστι καὶ φαίνεται.

[2] λοιπὸν ἐν πᾶσι τούτοις εὐστοχεῖν ἔργον ἐστὶ τοῦ πεπαιδευμένου. ὅ τι δʼ ἂν ᾖ τὸ θλῖβον, ἐκείνῳ δεῖ προσάγειν τὴν βοήθειαν. εἰ σοφίσματα ἡμᾶς Πυρρώνεια καὶ Ἀκαδημαικὰ τὰ θλίβοντά ἐστιν, ἐκείνοις προσάγωμεν τὴν βοήθειαν·

[3] εἰ αἱ τῶν πραγμάτων πιθανότητες, καθʼ ἃς φαίνεταί τινα ἀγαθὰ οὐκ ὄντα, ἐκεῖ τὴν βοήθειαν ζητῶμεν· εἰ ἔθος ἐστὶ τὸ θλῖβον, πρὸς ἐκεῖνο τὴν βοήθειαν ἀνευρίσκειν πειρατέον.

[4] τί οὖν πρὸς ἔθος ἔστιν εὑρίσκειν βοήθημα;

[5] τὸ ἐναντίον ἔθος. ἀκούεις τῶν ἰδιωτῶν λεγόντων τάλας ἐκεῖνος, ἀπέθανεν· ἀπώλετο ὁ πατὴρ αὐτοῦ, ἡ μήτηρ· ἐξεκόπη, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἄωρος καὶ ἐπὶ ξένης.

[6] ἄκουσον τῶν ἐναντίων λόγων, ἀπόσπασον σεαυτὸν τούτων τῶν φωνῶν, ἀντίθες τῷ ἔθει τὸ ἐναντίον ἔθος. πρὸς τοὺς σοφιστικοὺς λόγους τὰ λογικὰ καὶ τὴν ἐν τούτοις γυμνασίαν καὶ τριβήν, πρὸς τὰς τῶν πραγμάτων πιθανότητας τὰς προλήψεις ἐναργεῖς ἐσμηγμένας καὶ προχείρους ἔχειν δεῖ.

[7] ὅταν θάνατος φαίνηται κακόν, πρόχειρον ἔχειν ὅτι τὰ κακὰ ἐκκλίνειν καθήκει καὶ ἀναγκαῖον ὁ θάνατος. τί γὰρ ποιήσω;

[8] ποῦ γὰρ αὐτὸν φύγω; ἔστω ἐμὲ εἶναι Σαρπηδόνα τὸν τοῦ Διός, ἵνʼ οὕτως γενναίως εἴπω ἀπελθὼν ἢ αὐτὸς ἀριστεῦσαι θέλω ἢ ἄλλῳ παρασχεῖν ἀφορμὴν τοῦ ἀριστεῦσαι· εἰ μὴ δύναμαι κατορθῶσαί τι αὐτός, οὐ φθονήσω ἄλλῳ τοῦ ποιῆσαί τι γενναῖον· ἔστω ταῦτα ὑπὲρ ἡμᾶς, ἐκεῖνο οὐ πίπτει εἰς ἡμᾶς;

[9] καὶ ποῦ φύγω τὸν θάνατον; μηνύσατέ μοι τὴν χώραν, μηνύσατε ἀνθρώπους, εἰς οὓς ἀπέλθω, εἰς οὓς οὐ παραβάλλει, μηνύσατε ἐπαοιδήν· εἰ μὴ ἔχω, τί με θέλετε ποιεῖν;

[10] οὐ δύναμαι τὸν θάνατον ἀποφυγεῖν· τὸ φοβεῖσθαι αὐτὸν μὴ ἀποφύγω, ἀλλʼ ἀποθάνω πενθῶν καὶ τρέμων; αὕτη γὰρ γένεσις πάθους θέλειν τι καὶ μὴ γίνεσθαι.

[11] ἔνθεν ἂν μὲν δύνωμαι τὰ ἐκτὸς μετατιθέναι πρὸς τὴν βούλησιν τὴν ἐμαυτοῦ, μετατίθημι· εἰ δὲ μή, τὸν ἐμποδίζοντα ἐκτυφλῶσαι θέλω.

[12] πέφυκε γὰρ ὁ ἄνθρωπος μὴ ὑπομένειν ἀφαιρεῖσθαι τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ, μὴ ὑπομένειν περιπίπτειν τῷ κακῷ.

[13] εἶτα τὸ τελευταῖον, ὅταν μήτε τὰ πράγματα μεταθεῖναι δυνηθῶ μήτε τὸν ἐμποδίζοντα ἐκτυφλῶσαι, κάθημαι καὶ στένω καὶ ὃν δύναμαι λοιδορῶ, τὸν Δία καὶ τοὺς θεοὺς τοὺς ἄλλους· εἰ γὰρ μὴ ἐπιστρέφονταί μου, τί ἐμοὶ καὶ αὐτοῖς;

[14] ναί· ἀλλʼ ἀσεβὴς ἔσῃ. τί οὖν μοι χεῖρον ἔσται, ὧν ἔστι μοι νῦν; τὸ σύνολον ἐκείνου μεμνῆσθαι, ὅτι, ἐὰν μὴ ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ ᾖ τὸ εὐσεβὲς καὶ συμφέρον, οὐ δύναται σωθῆναι τὸ εὐσεβὲς ἔν τινι. ταῦτα οὐ δοκεῖ ἐπείγοντα;

[15] ἐρχέσθω καὶ ἀπαντάτω Πυρρώνειος καὶ Ἀκαδημαικός. ἐγὼ μὲν γὰρ τὸ ἐμὸν μέρος οὐκ ἄγω σχολὴν πρὸς ταῦτα οὐδὲ δύναμαι συνηγορῆσαι τῇ συνηθείᾳ.

[16] εἰ καὶ περὶ ἀγριδίου πραγμάτιον εἶχον, ἄλλον ἂν παρεκάλεσα τὸν συνηγορήσοντα· τίνι οὖν ἀρκοῦμαι κατὰ τὸν τόπον;

[17] πῶς μὲν αἴσθησις γίνεται, π ρότερον διʼ ὅλων ἢ ἀπὸ μέρους, ἴσως οὐκ οἶδα ἀπολογίσασθαι, ταράσσει δέ με ἀμφότερα. ὅτι δʼ ἐγὼ καὶ σὺ οὐκ ἐσμὲν οἱ αὐτοί, λίαν ἀκριβῶς οἶδα.

[18] πόθεν τοῦτο; οὐδέποτε καταπίνειν τι θέλων ἐκεῖ φέρω τὸν ψωμόν, ἀλλʼ ὧδε· οὐδέποτʼ ἄρτον θέλων λαβεῖν τὸ σάρον ἔλαβον, ἀλλʼ ἀεὶ ἐπὶ τὸν ἄρτον ἔρχομαι ὡς πρὸς σκοπόν.

[19] ὑμεῖς δʼ αὐτοὶ οἱ τὰς αἰσθήσεις ἀναιροῦντες ἄλλο τι ποιεῖτε; τίς ὑμῶν εἰς βαλανεῖον ἀπελθεῖν θέλων εἰς μυλῶνα ἀπῆλθεν;

[20] — τί οὖν; οὐ δεῖ κατὰ δύναμιν καὶ τούτων ἀντέχεσθαι, τοῦ τηρῆσαι τὴν συνήθειαν, τοῦ πεφράχθαι πρὸς τὰ κατʼ αὐτῆς;

[21] — καὶ τίς ἀντιλέγει; ἀλλὰ τὸν δυνάμενον, τὸν σχολάζοντα· τὸν δὲ τρέμοντα καὶ ταρασσόμενον καὶ ῥηγνύμενον ἔσωθεν τὴν καρδίαν ἄλλῳ τινὶ δεῖ προσευκαιρεῖν.

ὅτι οὐ δεῖ χαλεπαίνειν ἀνθρώποις καὶ τίνα τὰ μικρὰ καὶ μεγάλα ἐν ἀνθρώποις.

[1] τί ἐστιν αἴτιον τοῦ συγκατατίθεσθαί τινι; τὸ φαίνεσθαι ὅτι ὑπάρχει.

[2] τῷ οὖν φαινομένῳ ὅτι οὐχ ὑπάρχει συγκατατίθεσθαι οὐχ οἷόν τε. διὰ τί; ὅτι ἡ φύσις αὕτη ἐστὶ τῆς διανοίας τοῖς μὲν ἀληθέσιν ἐπινεύειν, τοῖς δὲ ψευδέσι δυσαρεστεῖν, πρὸς δὲ τὰ ἄδηλα ἐπέχειν.

[3] τίς τούτου πίστις; πάθε, εἰ δύνασαι, νῦν ὅτι νύξ ἐστιν. οὐχ οἷόν τε. ἀπόπαθε ὅτι ἡμέρα ἐστίν. οὐχ οἷόν τε. πάθε ἢ ἀπόπαθε ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀρτίους εἶναι τοὺς ἀστέρας. οὐχ οἷόν τε.

[4] ὅταν οὖν τις συγκατατίθηται τῷ ψεύδει, ἴσθι ὅτι οὐκ ἤθελεν ψεύδει συγκαταθέσθαι· πᾶσα γὰρ ψυχὴ ἄκουσα στέρεται τῆς ἀληθείας, ὡς λέγει Πλάτων· ἀλλὰ ἔδοξεν αὐτῷ τὸ ψεῦδος ἀληθές.

[5] ἄγε ἐπὶ δὲ τῶν πράξεων τί ἔχομεν τοιοῦτον οἷον ἐνθάδε τὸ ἀληθὲς ἢ τὸ ψεῦδος; τὸ καθῆκον καὶ παρὰ τὸ καθῆκον, τὸ συμφέρον καὶ τὸ ἀσύμφορον, τὸ κατʼ ἐμὲ καὶ οὐ κατʼ ἐμὲ καὶ ὅσα τούτοις ὅμοια.

[6] οὐ δύναται οὖν τις δοκεῖν μέν, ὅτι συμφέρει αὐτῷ, μὴ αἱρεῖσθαι δʼ αὐτό; οὐ δύναται.

[7] πῶς ἡ λέγουσα

καὶ μανθάνω μὲν οἷα δρᾶν μέλλω κακά,
θυμὸς δὲ κρείσσων τῶν ἐμῶν βουλευμάτων;

ὅτι αὐτὸ τοῦτο, τῷ θυμῷ χαρίσασθαι καὶ τιμωρήσασθαι τὸν ἄνδρα, συμφορώτερον ἡγεῖται τοῦ σῶσαι τὰ τέκνα.

[8] ναί· ἀλλʼ ἐξηπάτηται. δεῖξον αὐτῇ ἐναργῶς ὅτι ἐξηπάτηται καὶ οὐ ποιήσει· μέχρι δʼ ἂν οὗ μὴ δεικνύῃς, τίνι ἔχει ἀκολουθῆσαι ἢ τῷ φαινομένῳ;

[9] οὐδενί. τί οὖν χαλεπαίνεις αὐτῇ, ὅτι πεπλάνηται ἡ ταλαίπωρος περὶ τῶν μεγίστων καὶ ἔχις ἀντὶ ἀνθρώπου γέγονεν; οὐχὶ δʼ, εἴπερ ἄρα, μᾶλλον ἐλεεῖς, ὡς τοὺς τυφλοὺς ἐλεοῦμεν, ὡς τοὺς χωλούς, οὕτως τοὺς τὰ κυριώτατα τετυφλωμένους καὶ ἀποκεχωλωμένους;

[10] ὅστις οὖν τούτου μέμνηται καθαρῶς ὅτι ἀνθρώπῳ μέτρον πάσης πράξεως τὸ φαινόμενον (λοιπὸν ἢ καλῶς φαίνεται ἢ κακῶς· εἰ καλῶς, ἀνέγκλητός ἐστιν· εἰ κακῶς, αὐτὸς ἐζημίωται· οὐ δύναται γὰρ ἄλλος μὲν εἶναι ὁ πεπλανημένος, ἄλλος δʼ ὁ βλαπτόμενος), οὐδενὶ ὀργισθήσεται, οὐδενὶ χαλεπανεῖ, οὐδένα λοιδορήσει, οὐδένα μέμψεται, οὐ μισήσει, οὐ προσκόψει οὐδενί.

[11] ὥστε καὶ τὰ οὕτω μεγάλα καὶ δεινὰ ἔργα ταύτην ἔχει τὴν ἀρχήν, τὸ φαινόμενον; ταύτην οὐδʼ ἄλλην.

[12] ἡ Ἰλιὰς οὐδέν ἐστιν ἢ φαντασία καὶ χρῆσις φαντασιῶν. ἐφάνη τῷ Ἀλεξάνδρῳ ἀπάγειν τοῦ Μενελάου τὴν γυναῖκα, ἐφάνη τῇ Ἑλένῃ ἀκολουθῆσαι αὐτῷ.

[13] εἰ οὖν ἐφάνη τῷ Μενελάῳ παθεῖν ὅτι κέρδος ἐστὶ τοιαύτης γυναικὸς στερηθῆναι, τί ἂν ἐγένετο; ἀπολώλει ἡ Ἰλιὰς οὐ μόνον ἀλλὰ καὶ ἡ Ὀδύσσεια. —

[14] ἐκ τοιούτου οὖν μικροῦ πράγματος ἤρτηται τὰ τηλικαῦτα; — τίνα δὲ καὶ λέγεις τὰ τηλικαῦτα; πολέμους καὶ στάσεις καὶ ἀπωλείας πολλῶν ἀνθρώπων καὶ κατασκαφὰς πόλεων; καὶ τί μέγα ἔχει ταῦτα; — οὐδέν; —

[15] τί δʼ ἔχει μέγα πολλοὺς βοῦς ἀποθανεῖν καὶ πολλὰ πρόβατα καὶ πολλὰς καλιὰς χελιδόνων ἢ πελαργῶν ἐμπρησθῆναι καὶ κατασκαφῆναι;

[16] — ὅμοια οὖν ἐστι ταῦτα ἐκείνοις; — ὁμοιότατα. σώματα ἀπώλετο ἀνθρώπων· καὶ βοῶν καὶ προβάτων. οἰκημάτια ἐνεπρήσθη ἀνθρώπων· καὶ πελαργῶν νεοσσιαί.

[17] τί μέγα ἢ δεινόν; ἢ δεῖξόν μοι τί διαφέρει οἰκία ἀνθρώπου καὶ νεοσσιὰ πελαργοῦ ὡς οἴκησις.

[18] — ὅμοιον οὖν ἐστι πελαργὸς καὶ ἄνθρωπος; — τί λέγεις; κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ὁμοιότατον. πλὴν ὅτι μὲν ἐκ δοκῶν καὶ κεραμίδων καὶ πλίνθων οἰκοδομεῖται τὰ οἰκίδια, ἡ δʼ ἐκ ῥάβδων καὶ πηλοῦ.

[19] οὐδενὶ οὖν διαφέρει ἄνθρωπος πελαργοῦ;— μὴ γένοιτο· ἀλλὰ τούτοις οὐ διαφέρει. — τίνι οὖν διαφέρει;

[20] — ζήτει καὶ εὑρήσεις, ὅτι ἄλλῳ διαφέρει. ὅρα μὴ τῷ παρακολουθεῖν οἷς ποιεῖ, ὅρα μὴ τῷ κοινωνικῷ, μὴ τῷ πιστῷ, τῷ αἰδήμονι, τῷ ἀσφαλεῖ, τῷ συνετῷ.

[21] ποῦ οὖν τὸ μέγα ἐν ἀνθρώποις κακὸν καὶ ἀγαθόν; ὅπου ἡ διαφορά. ἂν σῴζηται τοῦτο καὶ περιτετειχισμένον μένῃ καὶ μὴ διαφθείρηται τὸ αἰδῆμον μηδὲ τὸ πιστὸν μηδὲ τὸ συνετόν, τότε σῴζεται καὶ αὐτός· ἂν δʼ ἀπολλύηταί τι τούτων καὶ ἐκπολιορκῆται, τότε καὶ αὐτὸς ἀπόλλυται. καὶ τὰ μεγάλα πράγματα ἐν τούτῳ ἐστίν.

[22] ἔπταισεν μεγάλα ὁ Ἀλέξανδρος, ὅτʼ ἐπῆλθον φασιν οἱ Ἕλληνες καὶ ὅτε ἐπόρθουν τὴν Τροίαν καὶ ὅτε οἱ ἀδελφοὶ αὐτοῦ ἀπώλλυντο;

[23] οὐδαμῶς· διʼ ἀλλότριον γὰρ ἔργον πταίει οὐδείς· ἀλλὰ τότε πελαργῶν νεοσσιαὶ ἐπορθοῦντο. πταῖσμα δʼ ἦν, ὅτε ἀπώλεσε τὸν αἰδήμονα, τὸν πιστόν, τὸν φιλόξενον, τὸν κόσμιον.

[24] πότʼ ἔπταισεν ὁ Ἀχιλλεύς; ὅτε ἀπέθανεν ὁ Πάτροκλος; μὴ γένοιτο· ἀλλʼ ὅτε ὠργίζετο, ὅτε κορασίδιον ἔκλαεν, ὅτʼ ἐπελάθετο ὅτι πάρεστιν οὐκ ἐπὶ τὸ ἐρωμένας κτᾶσθαι, ἀλλʼ ἐπὶ τὸ πολεμεῖν.

[25] ταῦτʼ ἐστὶ τὰ ἀνθρωπικὰ πταίσματα, τοῦτό ἐστιν ἡ πολιορκία, τοῦτό ἐστι κατασκαφή, ὅταν τὰ δόγματα τὰ ὀρθὰ καθαιρῆται, ὅταν ἐκεῖνα διαφθείρηται.

[26] — ὅταν οὖν γυναῖκες ἄγωνται καὶ παιδία αἰχμαλωτίζηται καὶ ὅταν αὐτοὶ κατασφάζωνται, ταῦτα οὐκ ἔστι κακά;

[27] — πόθεν τοῦτο προσδοξάζεις; κἀμὲ δίδαξον. — οὔ· ἀλλὰ πόθεν σὺ λέγεις ὅτι οὐκ ἔστι κακά;

[28] — ἔλθωμεν ἐπὶ τοὺς κανόνας, φέρε τὰς προλήψεις.

διὰ τοῦτο γὰρ οὐκ ἔστιν ἱκανῶς θαυμάσαι τὸ γινόμενον. ὅπου βάρη κρῖναι θέλομεν, οὐκ εἰκῇ κρίνομεν· ὅπου τὰ εὐθέα καὶ στρεβλά, οὐκ εἰκῇ·

[29] ἁπλῶς ὅπου διαφέρει ἡμῖν γνῶναι τὸ κατὰ τὸν τόπον ἀληθές, οὐδέποθʼ ἡμῶν οὐδεὶς οὐδὲν εἰκῇ ποιήσει.

[30] ὅπου δὲ τὸ πρῶτον καὶ μόνον αἴτιόν ἐστι τοῦ κατορθοῦν ἢ ἁμαρτάνειν, τοῦ εὐροεῖν ἢ δυσροεῖν, τοῦ ἀτυχεῖν ἢ εὐτυχεῖν, ἐνθάδε μόνον εἰκαῖοι καὶ προπετεῖς. οὐδαμοῦ ὅμοιόν τι ζυγῷ, οὐδαμοῦ ὅμοιόν τι κανόνι, ἀλλά τι ἐφάνη καὶ εὐθὺς ποιῶ τὸ φανέν.

[31] κρείσσων γάρ εἰμι τοῦ Ἀγαμέμνονος ἢ τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως, ἵνʼ ἐκεῖνοι μὲν διὰ τὸ ἀκολουθῆσαι τοῖς φαινομένοις τοιαῦτα κακὰ ποιήσωσι καὶ πάθωσιν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μὴ ἀρκῇ τὸ φαινόμενον;

[32] καὶ ποία τραγῳδία ἄλλην ἀρχὴν ἔχει; Ἀτρεὺς Εὐριπίδου τί ἐστιν; τὸ φαινόμενον. Οἰδίπους Σοφοκλέους τί ἐστιν; τὸ φαινόμενον. Φοῖνιξ;

[33] τὸ φαινόμενον. Ἱππόλυτος; τὸ φαινόμενον. τούτου οὖν μηδεμίαν ἐπιμέλειαν ποιεῖσθαι τίνος ὑμῖν δοκεῖ; τίνες δὲ λέγονται οἱ παντὶ τῷ φαινομένῳ ἀκολουθοῦντες; — μαινόμενοι. — ἡμεῖς οὖν ἄλλο τι ποιοῦμεν;

περὶ εὐσταθείας.

[1] οὐσία τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ προαίρεσις ποιά, τοῦ κακοῦ προαίρεσις ποιά.

[2] τί οὖν τὰ ἐκτός; ὗλαι τῇ προαιρέσει, περὶ ἃς ἀναστρεφομένη τεύξεται τοῦ ἰδίου ἀγαθοῦ ἢ κακοῦ. πῶς τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ τεύξεται;

[3] ἂν τὰς ὕλας μὴ θαυμάσῃ. τὰ γὰρ περὶ τῶν ὑλῶν δόγματα ὀρθὰ μὲν ὄντα ἀγαθὴν ποιεῖ τὴν προαίρεσιν, στρεβλὰ δὲ καὶ διεστραμμένα κακήν.

[4] τοῦτον τὸν νόμον ὁ θεὸς τέθεικεν καὶ φησίν εἰ τι ἀγαθὸν θέλεις, παρὰ σεαυτοῦ λάβε. σὺ λέγεις οὔ· ἀλλὰ παρʼ ἄλλου. μή, ἀλλὰ παρὰ σεαυτοῦ.

[5] λοιπὸν ὅταν ἀπειλῇ ὁ τύραννος καὶ μὴ καλῇ, λέγω τίνι ἀπειλεῖ; ἂν λέγῃ δήσω σε, φημὶ ὅτι ταῖς χερσὶν ἀπειλεῖ καὶ τοῖς ποσίν.

[6] ἂν λέγῃ τραχηλοκοπήσω σε, λέγω τῷ τραχήλῳ ἀπειλεῖ. ἂν λέγῃ εἰς φυλακήν σε βαλῶ, ὅλῳ τῷ σαρκιδίῳ· κἂν ἐξορισμὸν ἀπειλῇ, τὸ αὐτό.

[7] — σοὶ οὖν οὐδὲν ἀπειλεῖ; — εἰ πέπονθα ὅτι ταῦτα οὐδέν ἐστι πρὸς ἐμέ, οὐδέν· εἰ δὲ φοβοῦμαί τι τούτων, ἐμοὶ ἀπειλεῖ.

[8] τίνα λοιπὸν δέδοικα; τὸν τίνων ὄντα κύριον; τῶν ἐπʼ ἐμοί; οὐδὲ εἷς ἐστιν. τῶν οὐκ ἐπʼ ἐμοί; καὶ τί μοι αὐτῶν μέλει;

[9] ὑμεῖς οὖν οἱ φιλόσοφοι διδάσκετε καταφρονεῖν τῶν βασιλέων; — μὴ γένοιτο. τίς ἡμῶν διδάσκει ἀντιποιεῖσθαι πρὸς αὐτούς, ὧν ἐκεῖνοι ἔχουσιν ἐξουσίαν;

[10] τὸ σωμάτιον λάβε, τὴν κτῆσιν λάβε, τὴν φήμην λάβε, τοὺς περὶ ἐμὲ λάβε. ἄν τινας τούτων ἀναπείθω ἀντιποιεῖσθαι, τῷ ὄντι ἐγκαλείτω μοι.

[11] ναί· ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν δογμάτων ἄρχειν θέλω. καὶ τίς σοι ταύτην τὴν ἐξουσίαν δέδωκεν;

[12] ποῦ δύνασαι νικῆσαι δόγμα ἀλλότριον; προσάγων, φησίν, αὐτῷ φόβον νικήσω. ἀγνοεῖς ὅτι αὐτὸ αὑτὸ ἐνίκησεν, οὐχ ὑπʼ ἄλλου ἐνικήθη· προαίρεσιν δὲ οὐδὲν ἄλλο νικῆσαι δύναται, πλὴν αὐτὴ ἑαυτήν.

[13] διὰ τοῦτο καὶ ὁ τοῦ θεοῦ νόμος κράτιστός ἐστι καὶ δικαιότατος· τὸ κρεῖσσον ἀεὶ περιγινέσθω τοῦ χείρονος.

[14] κρείττονές εἰσιν οἱ δέκα τοῦ ἑνός. πρὸς τί; πρὸς τὸ δῆσαι, πρὸς τὸ ἀποκτεῖναι, πρὸς τὸ ἀπαγαγεῖν ὅπου θέλουσιν, πρὸς τὸ ἀφελέσθαι τὰ ὄντα. νικῶσιν τοίνυν οἱ δέκα τὸν ἕνα ἐν τούτῳ, ἐν ᾧ κρείσσονές εἰσιν.

[15] ἐν τίνι οὖν χείρονές εἰσιν; ἂν ὁ μὲν ἔχῃ δόγματα ὀρθά, οἱ δὲ μή. τί οὖν; ἐν τούτῳ δύνανται νικῆσαι; πόθεν; εἰ δʼ ἱστάμεθα ἐπὶ ζυγοῦ, οὐκ ἔδει τὸν βαρύτερον καθελκύσαι;

[16] Σωκράτης οὖν ἵνα πάθῃ ταῦτα ὑπʼ Ἀθηναίων;— ἀνδράποδον, τί λέγεις τὸ Σωκράτης; ὡς ἔχει τὸ πρᾶγμα λέγε· ἵνʼ οὖν τὸ Σωκράτους σωμάτιον ἀπαχθῇ καὶ συρῇ ὑπὸ τῶν ἰσχυροτέρων εἰς δεσμωτήριον καὶ κώνειόν τις δῷ τῷ σωματίῳ τῷ Σωκράτους κἀκεῖνο ἀποψυγῇ;

[17] ταῦτά σοι φαίνεται θαυμαστά, ταῦτα ἄδικα, ἐπὶ τούτοις ἐγκαλεῖς τῷ θεῷ; οὐδὲν οὖν εἶχε Σωκράτης ἀντὶ τούτων; ποῦ ἦν ἡ οὐσία αὐτῷ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ;

[18] τίνι προσσχῶμεν; σοὶ ἢ αὐτῷ; καὶ τί λέγει ἐκεῖνος; ἐμὲ δʼ Ἄνυτος καὶ Μέλητος ἀποκτεῖναι μὲν δύνανται, βλάψαι δʼ οὔ. καὶ πάλιν εἰ ταύτῃ τῷ θεῷ φίλον, ταύτῃ γινέσθω.

[19] ἀλλὰ δεῖξον ὅτι χείρονα ἔχων δόγματα κρατεῖ τοῦ κρείττονος ἐν δόγμασιν. οὐ δείξεις· οὐδʼ ἐγγύς. νόμος γὰρ τῆς φύσεως. καὶ τοῦ θεοῦ οὗτος τὸ κρεῖσσον ἀεὶ περιγινέσθω τοῦ χείρονος. ἐν τίνι; ἐν ᾧ κρεῖσσόν ἐστιν.

[20] σῶμα σώματος ἰσχυρότερον, οἱ πλείονες τοῦ ἑνός, ὁ κλέπτης τοῦ μὴ κλέπτου.

[21] διὰ τοῦτο κἀγὼ τὸν λύχνον ἀπώλεσα, ὅτι ἐν τῷ ἀγρυπνεῖν μου κρείσσων ἦν ὁ κλέπτης. ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνος τοσούτου ὠνήσατο λύχνον· ἀντὶ λύχνου κλέπτης ἐγένετο, ἀντὶ λύχνου ἄπιστος, ἀντὶ λύχνου θηριώδης. τοῦτο ἔδοξεν αὐτῷ λυσιτελεῖν.

[22] ἔστω· ἀλλʼ εἴληπταί μού τις τοῦ ἱματίου καὶ ἕλκει μʼ εἰς τὴν ἀγοράν, εἶτα ἐπικραυγάζουσιν ἄλλοι φιλόσοφε, τί σε ὠφέληκε τὰ δόγματα; ἰδοὺ σύρῃ εἰς τὸ δεσμωτήριον, ἰδοὺ μέλλεις τραχηλοκοπεῖσθαι.

[23] καὶ ποίαν ἔπραξα ἂν εἰσαγωγήν, ἵνʼ, ἂν ἰσχυρότερος ἐπιλάβηταί μου τοῦ ἱματίου, μὴ σύρωμαι; ἵνα, ἄν με δέκα περισπάσαντες εἰς τὸ δεσμωτήριον ἐμβάλωσιν, μὴ ἐμβληθῶ;

[24] ἄλλο οὖν οὐδὲν ἔμαθον; ἔμαθον, ἵνα· πᾶν τὸ γινόμενον ἴδω ὅτι, ἂν ἀπροαίρετον ᾖ, οὐδέν ἐστι πρὸς ἐμέ.

[25] πρὸς τοῦτο οὖν οὐκ ὠφέλησαι; τί οὖν ἐν ἄλλῳ ζητεῖς τὴν ὠφέλειαν ἢ ἐν ᾧ ἔμαθες;

[26] καθήμενος λοιπὸν ἐν τῇ φυλακῇ λέγω οὗτος ὁ ταῦτα κραυγάζων οὔτε τοῦ σημαινομένου ἀκούει οὔτε τῷ λεγομένῳ παρακολουθεῖ οὔτε ὅλως μεμέληκεν αὐτῷ εἰδέναι περὶ τῶν φιλοσόφων τί λέγουσιν ἢ τί ποιοῦσιν. ἄφες αὐτόν.

[27] ἀλλʼ ἔξελθε πάλιν ἀπὸ τῆς φυλακῆς. εἰ μηκέτι χρείαν ἔχητέ μου ἐν τῇ φυλακῇ, ἐξέρχομαι· ἂν πάλιν σχῆτε, εἰσελεύσομαι.

[28] μέχρι τίνος; μέχρις ἂν οὗ λόγος αἱρῇ συνεῖναί με τῷ σωματίῳ· ὅταν δὲ μὴ αἱρῇ, λάβετε αὐτὸ καὶ ὑγιαίνετε.

[29] μόνον μὴ ἀλογίστως, μόνον μὴ μαλακῶς, μὴ ἐκ τῆς τυχούσης προφάσεως. πάλιν γὰρ ὁ θεὸς οὐ βούλεται· χρείαν γὰρ ἔχει κόσμου τοιούτου, τῶν ἐπὶ γῆς ἀναστρεφομένων τοιούτων. ἐὰν δὲ σημήνῃ τὸ ἀνακλητικὸν ὡς τῷ Σωκράτει, πείθεσθαι δεῖ τῷ σημαίνοντι ὡς στρατηγῷ.

[30] τί οὖν; λέγειν δεῖ ταῦτα πρὸς τοὺς πολλούς; — ἵνα τί;

[31] οὐ γὰρ ἀρκεῖ τὸ αὐτὸν πείθεσθαι; τοῖς γὰρ παιδίοις, ὅταν προσελθόντα κροτῇ καὶ λέγῃ σήμερον Σατορνάλια ἀγαθά, λέγομεν οὐκ ἔστιν ἀγαθὰ ταῦτα; οὐδαμῶς· ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτοὶ ἐπικροτοῦμεν.

[32] καὶ σὺ τοίνυν, ὅταν μεταπεῖσαί τινα μὴ δύνῃ, γίγνωσκε ὅτι παιδίον ἐστὶ καὶ ἐπικρότει αὐτῷ· ἂν δὲ μὴ τοῦτο θέλῃς, σιώπα λοιπόν.

[33] τούτων δεῖ μεμνῆσθαι καὶ κληθέντα εἴς τινα τοιαύτην περίστασιν εἰδέναι, ὅτι ἐλήλυθεν ὁ καιρὸς τοῦ ἀποδεῖξαι, εἰ πεπαιδεύμεθα.

[34] νέος γὰρ ἀπὸ σχολῆς ἀπιὼν εἰς περίστασιν ὅμοιός ἐστι τῷ μεμελετηκότι συλλογισμοὺς ἀναλύειν, κἄν τις εὔλυτον αὐτῷ προτείνῃ, λέγει μᾶλλόν μοι πεπλεγμένον κομψῶς προτείνατε, ἵνα γυμνασθῶ. καὶ οἱ ἀθληταὶ τοῖς κούφοις νεανίσκοις δυσαρεστοῦσιν·

[35] οὐ βαστάζει με, φησίν. οὗτός ἐστιν εὐφυὴς νέος. οὔ· ἀλλὰ καλέσαντος τοῦ καιροῦ κλάειν δεῖ καὶ λέγειν ἤθελον ἔτι μανθάνειν. τίνα; εἰ ταῦτα οὐκ ἔμαθες οὐχ ὥστʼ ἔργῳ δεῖξαι, πρὸς τί αὐτὰ ἔμαθες;

[36] ἐγώ τινα οἶμαι τῶν καθημένων ἐνταῦθα ὠδίνειν αὐτὸν ἐφʼ ἑαυτοῦ καὶ λέγειν ἐμοὶ νῦν περίστασιν μὴ ἔρχεσθαι τοιαύτην, ὁποία τούτῳ ἐλήλυθεν; ἐμὲ νῦν κατατριβῆναι καθήμενον ἐν γωνίᾳ δυνάμενον στεφανωθῆναι Ὀλύμπια; πότε τις ἐμοὶ καταγγελεῖ τοιοῦτον ἀγῶνα; οὕτως ἔχειν ἔδει πάντας ὑμᾶς.

[37] ἀλλʼ ἐν μὲν τοῖς Καίσαρος μονομάχοις εἰσί τινες οἱ ἀγανακτοῦντες ὅτι οὐδεὶς αὐτοὺς προάγει οὐδὲ ζευγνύει καὶ εὔχονται τῷ θεῷ καὶ προσέρχονται τοῖς ἐπιτρόποις δεόμενοι μονομαχῆσαι, ἐξ ὑμῶν δʼ οὐδεὶς φανήσεται τοιοῦτος;

[38] ἤθελον πλεῦσαι ἐπʼ αὐτὸ τοῦτο καὶ ἰδεῖν, τί μου ποιεῖ ὁ ἀθλητής, πῶς μελετᾷ τὴν ὑπόθεσιν.

[39] οὐ θέλω, φησίν, τοιαύτην. ἐπὶ σοὶ γάρ ἐστι λαβεῖν ἣν θέλεις ὑπόθεσιν; δέδοταί σοι σῶμα τοιοῦτον, γονεῖς τοιοῦτοι, ἀδελφοὶ τοιοῦτοι, πατρὶς τοιαύτη, τάξις ἐν αὐτῇ τοιαύτη· εἶτά μοι λέγεις ἐλθὼν ἄλλαξόν μοι τὴν ὑπόθεσιν. εἶτα οὐκ ἔχεις ἀφορμὰς πρὸς τὸ χρήσασθαι τοῖς δοθεῖσιν;

[40] σόν ἐστι προτεῖναι, ἐμὸν μελετῆσαι καλῶς. οὔ· ἀλλὰ μὴ τοιοῦτό μοι προβάλῃς τροπικόν, ἀλλὰ τοιοῦτον· μὴ τοιαύτην ἐπενέγκῃς τὴν ἐπιφοράν, ἀλλὰ τοιαύτην.

[41] ἔσται χρόνος τάχα, ἐν ᾧ οἱ τραγῳδοὶ οἰήσονται ἑαυτοὺς εἶναι προσωπεῖα καὶ ἐμβάδας καὶ τὸ σύρμα. ἄνθρωπε, ταῦτα ὕλην ἔχεις καὶ ὑπόθεσιν.

[42] φθέγξαι τι, ἵνα εἰδῶμεν πότερον τραγῳδὸς εἶ ἢ γελωτοποιός· κοινὰ γὰρ ἔχουσι τὰ ἄλλα ἀμφότεροι.

[43] διὰ τοῦτο ἂν ἀφέλῃ τις αὐτοῦ καὶ τὰς ἐμβάδας καὶ τὸ προσωπεῖον καὶ ἐν εἰδώλῳ αὐτὸν προαγάγῃ, ἀπώλετο ὁ τραγῳδὸς ἢ μένει; ἂν φωνὴν ἔχῃ, μένει.

[44] καὶ ἐνθάδε. λάβε ἡγεμονίαν. λαμβάνω καὶ λαβὼν δεικνύω, πῶς ἄνθρωπος ἀναστρέφεται πεπαιδευμένος.

[45] θὲς τὴν πλατύσημον καὶ ἀναλαβὼν ῥάκη πρόσελθε ἐν προσώπῳ τοιούτῳ. τί οὖν; οὐ δέδοταί μοι καλὴν φωνὴν εἰσενεγκεῖν;

[46] πῶς οὖν ἀναβαίνεις νῦν; ὡς μάρτυς ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ κεκλημένος.

[47] ἔρχου σὺ καὶ μαρτύρησόν μοι· σὺ γὰρ ἄξιος εἶ προαχθῆναι μάρτυς. ὑπʼ ἐμοῦ. μή τι τῶν ἐκτὸς τῆς προαιρέσεως ἀγαθόν ἐστιν ἢ κακόν; μή τινα βλάπτω; μή τι ἐπʼ ἄλλῳ τὴν ὠφέλειαν ἐποίησα τὴν ἑκάστου ἢ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ;

[48] τίνα μαρτυρίαν δίδως τῷ θεῷ; ἐν δεινοῖς εἰμι, κύριε, καὶ δυστυχῶ, οὐδείς μου ἐπιστρέφεται, οὐδείς μοι δίδωσιν οὐδέν, πάντες ψέγουσιν, κακολογοῦσιν.

[49] ταῦτα μέλλεις μαρτυρεῖν καὶ καταισχύνειν τὴν κλῆσιν ἣν κέκληκεν, ὅτι σε ἐτίμησεν ταύτην τὴν τιμὴν καὶ ἄξιον ἡγήσατο προσαγαγεῖν εἰς μαρτυρίαν τηλικαύτην;

[50] ἀλλʼ ἀπεφήνατο ὁ ἔχων τὴν ἐξουσίαν κρίνω σε ἀσεβῆ καὶ ἀνόσιον εἶναι. τί σοι γέγονεν; ἐκρίθην ἀσεβὴς καὶ ἀνόσιος εἶναι.

[51] ἄλλο οὐδέν; οὐδέν. εἰ δὲ περὶ συνημμένου τινὸς ἐπικεκρίκει καὶ ἐδεδώκει ἀπόφασιν τὸ εἰ ἡμέρα ἐστίν, φῶς ἐστιν κρίνω ψεῦδος εἶναι, τί ἐγεγόνει τῷ συνημμένῳ; τίς ἐνθάδε κρίνεται, τίς κατακέκριται; τὸ συνημμένον ἢ ὁ ἐξαπατηθεὶς περὶ αὐτοῦ;

[52] οὗτος οὖν τίς ποτε ὁ ἔχων ἐξουσίαν τοῦ ἀποφήνασθαί τι περὶ σοῦ; οἶδεν τί ἐστι τὸ εὐσεβὲς ἢ τὸ ἀσεβές; μεμελέτηκεν αὐτό; μεμάθηκεν; ποῦ; παρὰ τίνι;

[53] εἶτα μουσικὸς μὲν οὐκ ἐπιστρέφεται αὐτοῦ ἀποφαινομένου περὶ τῆς νήτης ὅτι ἐστὶν ὑπάτη οὐδὲ γεωμετρικός, ἂν ἐπικρίνῃ τὰς ἀπὸ κέντρου πρὸς τὸν κύκλον προσπιπτούσας μὴ εἶναι ἴσας·

[54] ὁ δὲ ταῖς ἀληθείαις πεπαιδευμένος ἀνθρώπου ἀπαιδεύτου ἐπιστραφήσεται ἐπικρίνοντός τι περὶ ὁσίου καὶ ἀνοσίου καὶ ἀδίκου καὶ δικαίου; ὦ πολλῆς ἀδικίας τῶν πεπαιδευμένων. ταῦτα οὖν ἔμαθες ἐνταῦθα;

[55] οὐ θέλεις τὰ μὲν λογάρια τὰ περὶ τούτων ἄλλοις ἀφεῖναι, ἀταλαιπώροις ἀνθρωπαρίοις, ἵνʼ ἐν γωνίᾳ καθεζόμενοι μισθάρια λαμβάνωσιν ἢ γογγ ρύζωσιν, ὅτι οὐδεὶς αὐτοῖς παρέχει οὐδέν, σὺ δὲ χρῆσθαι παρελθὼν οἷς ἔμαθες;

[56] οὐ γὰρ λογάριά ἐστι τὰ λείποντα νῦν, ἀλλὰ γέμει τὰ βιβλία τῶν Στωικῶν λογαρίων. τί οὖν τὸ λεῖπόν ἐστιν; ὁ χρησόμενος, ὁ ἔργῳ μαρτυρήσων τοῖς λόγοις.

[57] τοῦτό μοι τὸ πρόσωπον ἀνάλαβε, ἵνα μηκέτι παλαιοῖς ἐν τῇ σχολῇ παραδείγμασι χρώμεθα, ἀλλὰ ἔχωμέν τι καὶ καθʼ ἡμᾶς παράδειγμα.

[58] ταῦτα οὖν τίνος ἐστὶ θεωρεῖν; τοῦ σχολάζοντος. ἔστι γὰρ φιλοθέωρόν τι ζῷον ὁ ἄνθρωπος.

[59] ἀλλʼ αἰσχρόν ἐστι θεωρεῖν ταῦτα οὕτως ὡς οἱ δραπέται· ἀλλʼ ἀπερισπάστως καθῆσθαι καὶ ἀκούειν νῦν μὲν τραγῳδοῦ νῦν δὲ κιθαρῳδοῦ, οὐχ ὡς ἐκεῖνοι ποιοῦσιν. ἅμα μὲν ἐπέστη καὶ ἐπῄνεσεν τὸν τραγῳδόν, ἅμα δὲ περιεβλέψατο· εἶτα ἄν τις φθέγξηται κύριον, εὐθὺς σεσόβηνται, ταράσσονται.

[60] αἰσχρόν ἐστιν οὕτως καὶ τοὺς φιλοσόφους θεωρεῖν τὰ ἔργα τῆς φύσεως. τί γάρ ἐστι κύριος; ἄνθρωπος ἀνθρώπου κύριος οὐκ ἔστιν, ἀλλὰ θάνατος καὶ ζωὴ καὶ ἡδονὴ καὶ πόνος.

[61] ἐπεὶ χωρὶς τούτων ἄγαγέ μοι τὸν Καίσαρα καὶ ὄψει πῶς εὐσταθῶ. ὅταν δὲ μετὰ τούτων ἔλθῃ βροντῶν καὶ ἀστράπτων, ἐγὼ δὲ ταῦτα φοβῶμαι, τί ἄλλο ἢ ἐπέγνωκα τὸν κύριον ὡς ὁ δραπέτης;

[62] μέχρι δʼ ἂν οὗ τινα ἀνοχὴν ἀπὸ τούτων ἔχω, ὡς δραπέτης ἐφίσταται θεάτρῳ οὕτως κἀγώ· λούομαι, πίνω, ᾁδω, πάντα δὲ μετὰ φόβου καὶ ταλαιπωρίας.

[63] ἐὰν δʼ ἐμαυτὸν ἀπολύσω τῶν δεσποτῶν, τοῦτʼ ἔστιν ἐκείνων, διʼ ἃ οἱ δεσπόται εἰσὶ φοβεροί, ποῖον ἔτι πρᾶγμα ἔχω, ποῖον ἔτι κύριον;

[64] τί οὖν; κηρύσσειν δεῖ ταῦτα πρὸς πάντας; — οὔ, ἀλλὰ τοῖς ἰδιώταις συμπεριφέρεσθαι καὶ λέγειν οὗτος ὃ αὑτῷ ἀγαθὸν οἴεται τοῦτο κἀμοὶ συμβουλεύει· συγγιγνώσκω αὐτῷ.

[65] καὶ γὰρ Σωκράτης συνεγίγνωσκεν τῷ ἐπὶ τῆς φυλακῆς κλάοντι, ὅτι ἔμελλεν πίνειν τὸ φάρμακον, καὶ λέγει ὡς γενναίως ἡμᾶς ἀποδεδάκρυκεν.

[66] μή τι οὖν ἐκείνῳ λέγει ὅτι διὰ τοῦτο τὰς γυναῖκας ἀπελύσαμεν; ἀλλὰ τοῖς γνωρίμοις, τοῖς δυναμένοις αὐτὰ ἀκοῦσαι· ἐκείνῳ δὲ συμπεριφέρεται ὡς παιδίῳ.

τί δεῖ πρόχειρον ἔχειν ἐν ταῖς περιστάσεσιν.

[1] ὅταν εἰσίῃς πρός τινα τῶν ὑπερεχόντων, μέμνησο ὅτι καὶ ἄλλος ἄνωθεν βλέπει τὰ γιγνόμενα καὶ ὅτι ἐκείνῳ σε δεῖ μᾶλλον ἀρέσκειν ἢ τούτῳ.

[2] ἐκεῖνος οὖν σου πυνθάνεται φυγὴν καὶ φυλακὴν καὶ δεσμὰ καὶ θάνατον καὶ ἀδοξίαν τί ἔλεγες ἐν τῇ σχολῇ; ἐγὼ ἀδιάφορα.

[3] νῦν οὖν τίνα αὐτὰ λέγεις; μή τι ἐκεῖνα ἠλλάγη; οὔ. σὺ οὖν ἠλλάγης; οὔ. λέγε οὖν τίνα ἐστὶν ἀδιάφορα. τὰ ἀπροαίρετα. λέγε καὶ τὰ ἑξῆς.

[4] ἀπροαίρετα οὐδὲν πρὸς ἐμέ. λέγε καὶ τὰ ἀγαθὰ τίνα ὑμῖν ἐδόκει; προαίρεσις οἵα δεῖ καὶ χρῆσις φαντασιῶν. τέλος δὲ τί; τὸ σοὶ ἀκολουθεῖν.

[5] ταῦτα καὶ νῦν λέγεις; ταὐτὰ καὶ νῦν λέγω. ἄπ ειθι λοιπὸν ἔσω θαρρῶν καὶ μεμνημένος τούτων καὶ ὄψει τί ἐστι νέος μεμελετηκὼς ἃ δεῖ ἐν ἀνθρώποις ἀμελετήτοις.

[6] ἐγὼ μὲν νὴ τοὺς θεοὺς φαντάζομαι ὅτι πείσῃ τὸ τοιοῦτον τί οὕτως μεγάλα καὶ πολλὰ παρασκευαζόμεθα πρὸς τὸ μηδέν;

[7] τοῦτο ἦν ἡ ἐξουσία; τοῦτο τὰ πρόθυρα, οἱ κοιτωνῖται, οἱ ἐπὶ τῆς μαχαίρας; τούτων ἕνεκα τοὺς πολλοὺς λόγους ἤκουον; ταῦτα οὐδὲν ἦν, ἐγὼ δʼ ὡς μεγάλα παρεσκευαζόμην.

Translations (1)

Arrian's Discourses of Epictetus Perseus (Epictetus. The Discourses of Epictetus, with the Encheridion and Fragments. Long, George, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1887.) — 1 focus

Of the things which are in our power, and not in our power.

OF all the faculties (except that which I shall soon mention), you will find not one which is capable of contemplating itself, and, consequently, not capable either of approving or disapproving.¹ How far does the grammatic art possess the contemplating power? As far as forming a judgment about what is written and spoken. And how far music? As far as judging about melody. Does either of them then contemplate itself? By no means. But when you must write something to your friend, grammar will tell you what words you should write; but whether you should write or not, grammar will not tell you. And so it is with music as to musical sounds; but whether you should sing at the present time and play on the lute, or do neither, music will not tell you. What faculty then will tell you? That which contemplates both itself and all other things. And what is this faculty? The rational faculty;² for this is the only faculty that we have received which examines itself, what it is, and what power it has, and what is the value of this gift, and examines all other faculties: for what else is there which tells us that golden things are beautiful, for they do not say so themselves? Evidently it is the faculty which is capable of judging of appearances.³ What else judges of music, grammar, and the other faculties, proves their uses, and points out the occasions for using them? Nothing else.

As then it was fit to be so, that which is best of all and supreme over all is the only thing which the gods have placed in our power, the right use of appearances; but all other things they have not placed in our power. Was it because they did not choose? I indeed think that, if they had been able, they would have put these other things also in our power, but they certainly could not.⁴ For as we exist on the earth, and are bound to such a body and to such companions, how was it possible for us not to be hindered as to these things by externals?

But what says Zeus? Epictetus, if it were possible, I would have made both your little body and your little property free and not exposed to hindrance. But now be not ignorant of this: this body is not yours, but it is clay finely tempered. And since I was not able to do for you what I have mentioned, I have given you a small portion of us,⁵ this faculty of pursuing an object and avoiding it, and the faculty of desire and aversion, and, in a word, the faculty of using the appearances of things; and if you will take care of this faculty and consider it your only possession, you will never be hindered, never meet with impediments; you will not lament, you will not blame, you will not flatter any person.

Well, do these seem to you small matters? I hope not. Be content with them then and pray to the gods. But now when it is in our power to look after one thing, and to attach ourselves to it, we prefer to look after many things, and to be bound to many things, to the body and to property, and to brother and to friend, and to child and to slave. Since then we are bound to many things, we are depressed by them and dragged down. For this reason, when the weather is not fit for sailing, we sit down and torment ourselves, and continually look out to see what wind is blowing. It is north. What is that to us? When will the west wind blow? When it shall choose, my good man, or when it shall please Aeolus; for God has not made you the manager of the winds, but Aeolus.⁶ What then? We must make the best use that we can of the things which are in our power, and use the rest according to their nature. What is their nature then? As God may please.

Must I then alone have my head cut off? What, would you have all men lose their heads that you may be consoled? Will you not stretch out your neck as Lateranus⁷ did at Rome when Nero ordered him to be beheaded? For when he had stretched out his neck, and received a feeble blow, which made him draw it in for a moment, he stretched it out again. And a little before, when he was visited by Epaphroditus,⁸ Nero’s freedman, who asked him about the cause of offence which he had given, he said, If I choose to tell anything, I will tell your master.

What then should a man have in readiness in such circumstances? What else than this? What is mine, and what is not mine; and what is permitted to me, and what is not permitted to me. I must die. Must I then die lamenting? I must be put in chains. Must I then also lament? I must go into exile. Does any man then hinder me from going with smiles and cheerfulness and contentment? Tell me the secret which you possess. I will not, for this is in my power. But I will put you in chains.⁹ Man, what are you talking about? Me in chains? You may fetter my leg, but my will¹⁰ not even Zeus himself can overpower. I will throw you into prison. My poor body, you mean. I will cut your head off. When then have I told you that my head alone cannot be cut off? These are the things which philosophers should meditate on, which they should write daily, in which they should exercise themselves.

Thrasea¹¹ used to say, I would rather be killed to-day than banished to-morrow. What then did Rufus¹² say to him? If you choose death as the heavier misfortune, how great is the folly of your choice? But if, as the lighter, who has given you the choice? Will you not study to be content with that which has been given to you?

What then did Agrippinus¹³ say? He said, I am not a hindrance to myself. When it was reported to him that his trial was going on in the Senate, he said, I hope it may turn out well; but it is the fifth hour of the day —this was the time when he was used to exercise himself and then take the cold bath— let us go and take our exercise. After he had taken his exercise, one comes and tells him, You have been condemned. To banishment, he replies, or to death? To banishment. What about my property? It is not taken from you. Let us go to Aricia then,¹⁴ he said, and dine.

This it is to have studied what a man ought to study; to have made desire, aversion, free from hindrance, and free from all that a man would avoid. I must die. If now, I am ready to die. If, after a short time, I now dine because it is the dinner-hour; after this I will then die. How? Like a man who gives up¹⁵ what belongs to another.

How a man on every occasion can maintain his proper character.

To the rational animal only is the irrational intolerable; but that which is rational is tolerable. Blows are not naturally intolerable. How is that? See how the Lacedaemonians¹⁶ endure whipping when they have learned that whipping is consistent with reason. To hang yourself is not intolerable. When then you have the opinion that it is rational, you go and hang yourself. In short, if we observe, we shall find that the animal man is pained by nothing so much as by that which is irrational; and, on the contrary, attracted to nothing so much as to that which is rational.

But the rational and the irrational appear such in a different way to different persons, just as the good and the bad, the profitable and the unprofitable. For this reason, particularly, we need discipline, in order to learn how to adapt the preconception¹⁷ of the rational and the irrational to the several things conformably to nature. But in order to determine the rational and the irrational, we use not only the estimates of external things, but we consider also what is appropriate to each person. For to one man it is consistent with reason to hold a chamber pot for another, and to look to this only, that if he does not hold it, he will receive stripes, and he will not receive his food: but if he shall hold the pot, he will not suffer anything hard or disagreeable. But to another man not only does the holding of a chamber pot appear intolerable for himself, but intolerable also for him to allow another to do this office for him. If then you ask me whether you should hold the chamber pot or not, I shall say to you that the receiving of food is worth more than the not receiving of it, and the being scourged is a greater indignity than not being scourged; so that if you measure your interests by these things, go and hold the chamber pot. But this, you say, would not be worthy of me. Well then, it is you who must introduce this consideration into the inquiry, not I; for it is you who know yourself, how much you are worth to yourself, and at what price you sell yourself; for men sell themselves at various prices.

For this reason, when Florus was deliberating whether he should go down to Nero’s¹⁸ spectacles, and also perform in them himself, Agrippinus said to him, Go down: and when Florus asked Agrippinus, Why do not you go down? Agrippinus replied, Because I do not even deliberate about the matter. For he who has once brought himself to deliberate about such matters, and to calculate the value of external things, comes very near to those who have forgotten their own character. For why do you ask me the question, whether death is preferable or life? I say life. Pain or pleasure? I say pleasure. But if I do not take a part in the tragic acting, I shall have my head struck off. Go then and take a part, but I will not. Why? Because you consider yourself to be only one thread of those which are in the tunic. Well then it was fitting for you to take care how you should be like the rest of men, just as the thread has no design to be anything superior to the other threads. But I wish to be purple,¹⁹ that small part which is bright, and makes all the rest appear graceful and beautiful. Why then do you tell me to make myself like the many? and if I do, how shall I still be purple?

Priscus Helvidius²⁰ also saw this, and acted conformably. For when Vespasian sent and commanded him not to go into the senate, he replied, It is in your power not to allow me to be a member of the senate, but so long as I am, I must go in. Well, go in then, says the emperor, but say nothing. Do not ask my opinion, and I will be silent. But I must ask your opinion. And I must say what I think right. But if you do, I shall put you to death. When then did I tell you that I am immortal? You will do your part, and I will do mine: it is your part to kill; it is mine to die, but not in fear: yours to banish me; mine to depart without sorrow.

What good then did Priscus do, who was only a single person? And what good does the purple do for the toga? Why, what else than this, that it is conspicuous in the toga as purple, and is displayed also as a fine example to all other things? But in such circumstances another would have replied to Caesar who forbade him to enter the senate, I thank you for sparing me. But such a man Vespasian would not even have forbidden to enter the senate, for he knew that he would either sit there like an earthen vessel, or, if he spoke, he would say what Caesar wished, and add even more.

In this way an athlete also acted who was in danger of dying unless his private parts were amputated. His brother came to the athlete, who was a philosopher, and said, Come, brother, what are you going to do? Shall we amputate this member and return to the gymnasium? But the athlete persisted in his resolution and died. When some one asked Epictetus, How he did this, as an athlete or a philosopher? As a man, Epictetus replied, and a man who had been proclaimed among the athletes at the Olympic games and had contended in them, a man who had been familiar with such a place, and not merely anointed in Baton’s school.²¹ Another would have allowed even his head to be cut off, if he could have lived without it. Such is that regard to character which is so strong in those who have been accustomed to introduce it of themselves and conjoined with other things into their deliberations.

Come then, Epictetus, shave²² yourself. If I am a philosopher, I answer, I will not shave myself. But I will take off your head? If that will do you any good, take it off.

Some person asked, how then shall every man among us perceive what is suitable to his character? How, he replied, does the bull alone, when the lion has attacked, discover his own powers and put himself forward in defence of the whole herd? It is plain that with the powers the perception of having them is immediately conjoined: and, therefore, whoever of us has such powers will not be ignorant of them. Now a bull is not made suddenly, nor a brave man; but we must discipline ourselves in the winter for the summer campaign, and not rashly run upon that which does not concern us.

Only consider at what price you sell your own will: if for no other reason, at least for this, that you sell it not for a small sum. But that which is great and superior perhaps belongs to Socrates and such as are like him. Why then, if we are naturally such, are not a very great number of us like him? Is it true then that all horses become swift, that all dogs are skilled in tracking footprints? What then, since I am naturally dull, shall I, for this reason, take no pains? I hope not. Epictetus is not superior to Socrates; but if he is not inferior,²³ this is enough for me; for I shall never be a Milo,²⁴ and yet I do not neglect my body; nor shall I be a Croesus, and yet I do not neglect my property; nor, in a word, do we neglect looking after anything because we despair of reaching the highest degree.

How a man should proceed from the principle of god being the father of all men to the rest.

IF a man should be able to assent to this doctrine as he ought, that we are all sprung from God²⁵ in an especial manner, and that God is the father both of men and of gods, I suppose that he would never have any ignoble or mean thoughts about himself. But if Caesar (the emperor) should adopt you, no one could endure your arrogance; and if you know that you are the son of Zeus, will you not be elated? Yet we do not so; but since these two things are mingled in the generation of man, body in common with the animals, and reason and intelligence in common with the gods, many incline to this kinship, which is miserable and mortal; and some few to that which is divine and happy. Since then it is of necessity that every man uses everything according to the opinion which he has about it, those, the few, who think that they are formed for fidelity and modesty and a sure use of appearances have no mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves; but with the many it is quite the contrary. For they say, What am I? A poor, miserable man, with my wretched bit of flesh. Wretched, indeed; but you possess something better than your bit of flesh. Why then do you neglect that which is better, and why do you attach yourself to this?

Through this kinship with the flesh, some of us inclining to it become like wolves, faithless and treacherous and mischievous: some become like lions, savage and bestial and untamed; but the greater part of us become foxes, and other worse animals. For what else is a slanderer and a malignant man than a fox, or some other more wretched and meaner animal? See²⁶ then and take care that you do not become some one of these miserable things.

Of progress or improvement.

HE who is making progress, having learned from philosophers that desire means the desire of good things, and aversion means aversion from bad things; having learned too that happiness²⁷ and tranquillity are not attainable by man otherwise than by not failing to obtain what he desires, and not falling into that which he would avoid; such a man takes from himself desire altogether and defers it,²⁸ but he employs his aversion only on things which are dependent on his will. For if he attempts to avoid anything independent of his will, he knows that sometimes he will fall in with something which he wishes to avoid, and he will be unhappy. Now if virtue promises good fortune and tranquillity and happiness, certainly also the progress towards virtue is progress towards each of these things. For it is always true that to whatever point the perfecting of anything leads us, progress is an approach towards this point.

How then do we admit that virtue is such as I have said, and yet seek progress in other things and make a display of it? What is the product of virtue? Tranquillity. Who then makes improvement? Is it he who has read many books of Chrysippus?²⁹ But does virtue consist in having understood Chrysippus? If this is so, progress is clearly nothing else than knowing a great deal of Chrysippus. But now we admit that virtue produces one thing, and we declare that approaching near to it is another thing, namely, progress or improvement. Such a person, says one, is already able to read Chrysippus by himself. Indeed, sir, you are making great progress. What kind of progress? But why do you mock the man? Why do you draw him away from the perception of his own misfortunes? Will you not show him the effect of virtue that he may learn where to look for improvement? Seek it there, wretch, where your work lies. And where is your work? In desire and in aversion, that you may not be disappointed in your desire, and that you may not fall into that which you would avoid; in your pursuit and avoiding, that you commit no error; in assent and suspension of assent, that you be not deceived. The first things, and the most necessary, are those which I have named.³⁰ But if with trembling and lamentation you seek not to fall into that which you avoid, tell me how you are improving.

Do you then show me your improvement in these things? If I were talking to an athlete, I should say, Show me your shoulders; and then he might say, Here are my Halteres. You and your Halteres³¹ look to that. I should reply, I wish to see the effect of the Halteres. So, when you say: Take the treatise on the active powers ( ὁρμή), and see how I have studied it. I reply, Slave, I am not inquiring about this, but how you exercise pursuit and avoidance, desire and aversion, how you design and purpose and prepare yourself, whether conformably to nature or not. If conformably, give me evidence of it, and I will say that you are making progress: but if not conformably, be gone, and not only expound your books, but write such books yourself; and what will you gain by it? Do you not know that the whole book costs only five denarii? Does then the expounder seem to be worth more than five denarii? Never then look for the matter itself in one place, and progress towards it in another.

Where then is progress? If any of you, withdrawing himself from externals, turns to his own will ( προαίρεσις) to exercise it and to improve it by labour, so as to make it conformable to nature, elevated, free, unrestrained, unimpeded, faithful, modest; and if he has learned that he who desires or avoids the things which are not in his power can neither be faithful nor free, but of necessity he must change with them and be tossed abort with them as in a tempest,³² and of necessity must subject himself to others who have the power to procure or prevent what he desires or would avoid; finally, when he rises in the morning, if he observes and keeps these rules, bathes as a man of fidelity, eats as a modest man; in like manner, if in every matter that occurs he works out his chief principles τὰ προηγούμενα) as the runner does with reference to running, and the trainer of the voice with reference to the voice—this is the man who truly makes progress, and this is the man who has not travelled in vain. But if he has strained his efforts to the practice of reading books, and labours only at this, and has travelled for this, I tell him to return home immediately, and not to neglect his affairs there; for this for which he has travelled is nothing. But the other thing is something, to study how a man can rid his life of lamentation and groaning, and saying, Woe to me, and wretched that I am, and to rid it also of misfortune and disappointment, and to learn what death is, and exile, and prison, and poison, that he may be able to say when he is in fetters, Dear Crito,³³ if it is the will of the gods that it be so, let it be so; and not to say, Wretched am I, an old man; have I kept my grey hairs for this? Who is it that speaks thus? Do you think that I shall name some man of no repute and of low condition? Does not Priam say this? Does not Oedipus say this? Nay, all kings say it!³⁴ For what else is tragedy than the perturbations ( πάθη) of men who value externals exhibited in this kind of poetry? But if a man must learn by fiction that no external things which are independent of the will concern us, for my part I should like this fiction, by the aid of which I should live happily and undisturbed. But you must consider for yourselves what you wish.

What then does Chrysippus teach us? The reply is, to know that these things are not false, from which happiness comes and tranquillity arises. Take my books, and you will learn how true and conformable to nature are the things which make me free from perturbations. O great good fortune! 0 the great benefactor who points out the way! To Triptolemus all men have erected³⁵temples and altars, because he gave us food by cultivation; but to him who discovered truth and brought it to light and communicated it to all, not the truth which shows us how to live, but how to live well, who of you for this reason has built an altar, or a temple, or has dedicated a statue, or who worships God for this? Because the gods have given the vine, or wheat, we sacrifice to them: but because they have produced in the human mind that fruit by which they designed to show us the truth which relates to happiness, shall we not thank God for this?

Against the academics.

³⁶

IF a man, said Epictetus, opposes evident truths, it is not easy to find arguments by which we shall make him change his opinion. But this does not arise either from the man’s strength or the teacher’s weakness; for when the man, though he has been confuted,³⁷ is hardened like a stone, how shall we then be able to deal with him by argument?

Now there are two kinds of hardening, one of the understanding, the other of the sense of shame, when a man is resolved not to assent to what is manifest nor to desist from contradictions. Most of us are afraid of mortification of the body, and would contrive all means to avoid such a thing, but we care not about the soul’s mortification. And indeed with regard to the soul, if a man be in such a state as not to apprehend anything, or understand at all, we think that he is in a bad condition: but if the sense of shame and modesty are deadened, this we call even power (or strength).

Do you comprehend that you are awake? I do not, the man replies, for I do not even comprehend when in my sleep I imagine that I am awake. Does this appearance then not differ from the other? Not at all, he replies. Shall I still argue with this man?³⁸ And what fire or what iron shall I apply to him to make him feel that he is deadened? He does perceive, but he pretends that he does not. He is even worse than a dead man. He does not see the contradiction: he is in a bad condition. Another does see it, but he is not moved, and makes no improvement: he is even in a worse condition. His modesty is extirpated, and his sense of shame; and the rational faculty has not been cut off from him, but it is brutalised. Shall I name this strength of mind? Certainly not, unless we also name it such in catamites, through which they do and say in public whatever comes into their head.

Of Providence.

FROM everything which is or happens in the world, it is easy to praise Providence, if a man possesses these two qualities, the faculty of seeing what belongs and happens to all persons and things, and a grateful disposition. If he does not possess these two qualities, one man will not see the use of things which are and which happen; another will not be thankful for them, even if he does know them. If God had made colours, but had not made the faculty of seeing them, what would have been their use? None at all. On the other hand, if He had made the faculty of vision, but had not made objects such as to fall under the faculty, what in that case also would have been the use of it? None at all. Well, suppose that He had made both, but had not made light? In that case, also, they would have been of no use. Who is it then who has fitted this to that and that to this? And who is it that has fitted the knife to the case and the case to the knife? Is it no one?³⁹ And, indeed, from the very structure of things which have attained their completion, we are accustomed to show that the work is certainly the act of some artificer, and that it has not been constructed without a purpose. Does then each of these things demonstrate the workman, and do not visible things and the faculty of seeing and light demonstrate Him? And the existence of male and female, and the desire of each for conjunction, and the power of using the parts which are constructed, do not even these declare the workman? If they do not, let us consider⁴⁰ the constitution of our understanding according to which, when we meet with sensible objects, we do not simply receive impressions from them, but we also select⁴¹ something from them, and subtract something, and add, and compound by means of them these things or those, and, in fact, pass from some to other things which, in a manner, resemble them: is not even this sufficient to move some men, and to induce them not to forget the workman? If not so, let them explain to us what it is that makes each several thing, or how it is possible that things so wonderful and like the contrivances of art should exist by chance and from their own proper motion?

What, then, are these things done in us only? Many, indeed, in us only, of which the rational animal had peculiarly need; but you will find many common to us with irrational animals. Do they then understand what is done? By no means. For use is one thing, and understanding is another: God had need of irrational animals to make use of appearances, but of us to understand the use of appearances.⁴² It is therefore enough for them to eat and to drink, and to sleep and to copulate, and to do all the other things which they severally do. But for us, to whom He has given also the intellectual faculty, these things are not sufficient; for unless we act in a proper and orderly manner, and conformably to the nature and constitution of each thing, we shall never attain our true end. For where the constitutions of living beings are different, there also the acts and the ends are different. In those animals then whose constitution is adapted only to use, use alone is enough: but in an animal (man), which has also the power of understanding the use, unless there be the due exercise of the understanding, he will never attain his proper end. Well then God constitutes every animal, one to be eaten, another to serve for agriculture, another to supply cheese, and another for some like use; for which purposes what need is there to understand appearances and to be able to distinguish them? But God has introduced man to be a spectator of God⁴³ and of His works; and not only a spectator of them, but an interpreter. For this reason it is shameful for man to begin and to end where irrational animals do; but rather he ought to begin where they begin, and to end where nature ends in us; and nature ends in contemplation and understanding, and in a way of life conformable to nature. Take care then not to die without having been spectators of these things.

But you take a journey to Olympia to see the work of Phidias,⁴⁴ and all of you think it a misfortune to die without having seen such things. But when there is no need to take a journey, and where a man is, there he has the works (of God) before him, will you not desire to see and understand them? Will you not perceive either⁴⁵ what you are, or what you were born for, or what this is for which you have received the faculty of sight? But you may say, there are some things disagreeable and troublesome in life. And are there none at Olympia ? Are you not scorched? Are you not pressed by a crowd? Are you not without comfortable means of bathing? Are you not wet when it rains? Have you not abundance of noise, clamour, and other disagreeable things? But I suppose that setting all these things off against the magnificence of the spectacle, you bear and endure. Well then and have you not received faculties by which you will be able to bear all that happens? Have you not received greatness of soul? Have you not received manliness? Have you not received endurance? And why do I trouble myself about anything that can happen if I possess greatness of soul? What shall distract my mind or disturb me, or appear painful? Shall I not use the power for the purposes for which I received it, and shall I grieve and lament over what happens?

Yes, but my nose runs.⁴⁶ For what purpose then, slave, have you hands? Is it not that you may wipe your nose?— Is it then consistent with reason that there should be running of noses in the world?—Nay, how much better it is to wipe your nose than to find fault. What do you think that Hercules would have been if there had not been such a lion, and hydra, and stag, and boar, and certain unjust and bestial men, whom Hercules used to drive away and clear out? And what would he have been doing if there had been nothing of the kind? Is it not plain that he would have wrapped himself up and have slept? In the first place then he would not have been a Hercules, when he was dreaming away all his life in such luxury and ease; and even if he had been one, what would have been the use of him? and what the use of his arms, and of the strength of the other parts of his body, and his endurance and noble spirit, if such circumstances and occasions had not roused and exercised him? Well then must a man provide for himself such means of exercise, and seek to introduce a lion from some place into his country, and a boar, and a hydra? This would be folly and madness: but as they did exist, and were found, they were useful for showing what Hercules was and for exercising him. Come then do you also having observed these things look to the faculties which you have, and when you have looked at them, say: Bring now, O Zeus, any difficulty that thou pleasest, for I have means given to me by thee and powers⁴⁷ for honouring myself through the things which happen. You do not so: but you sit still, trembling for fear that some things will happen, and weeping, and lamenting, and groaning for what does happen: and then you blame the gods. For what is the consequence of such meanness of spirit but impiety?⁴⁸ And yet God has not only given us these faculties; by which we shall be able to bear everything thing happens without being depressed or broken by it; but, like a good king and a true father, He has given us these faculties free from hindrance, subject to no compulsion, unimpeded, and has put them entirely in our own power, without even having reserved to Himself any power of hindering or impeding. You, who have received these powers free and as your own, use them not: you do not even see what you have received, and from whom; some of you being blinded to the giver, and not even acknowledging your benefactor, and others, through meanness of spirit, betaking yourselves to fault-finding and making charges against God. Yet I will show to you that you have powers and means for greatness of soul and manliness: but what powers you have for finding fault and making accusations, do you show me.

Of the use of sophistical arguments and hypothetical and the like.

⁴⁹

THE handling of sophistical and hypothetical arguments, and of those which derive their conclusions from questioning, and in a word the handling of all such arguments, relates to the duties of life, though the many do not know this truth. For in every matter we inquire how the wise and good man shall discover the proper path and the proper method of dealing with the matter. Let then people either say that the grave man will not descend into the contest of question and answer, or, that if he does descend into the contest, he will take no care about not conducting himself rashly or carelessly in questioning and answering. But if they do not allow either the one or the other of these things, they must admit that some inquiry ought to be made into those topics ( τόπων) on which particularly questioning and answering are employed. For what is the end proposed in reasoning? To establish true propositions, to remove the false, to withhold assent from those which are not plain. Is it enough then to have learned only this? It is enough, a man may reply. Is it then also enough for a man, who would not make a mistake in the use of coined money, to have heard this precept, that he should receive the genuine drachmae and reject the spurious? It is not enough. What then ought to be added to this precept? What else than the faculty which proves and distinguishes the genuine and the spurious drachmae? Consequently also in reasoning what has been said is not enough; but it is necessary that a man should acquire the faculty of examining and distinguishing the true and the false, and that which is not plain? It is necessary. Besides this, what is proposed in reasoning? That you should accept what follows from that which you have properly granted. Well, is it then enough in this case also to know this? It is not enough; but a man must learn how one thing is a consequence of other things, and when one thing follows from one thing, and when it follows from several collectively. Consider then if it be not necessary that this power should also be acquired by him, who purposes to conduct himself skilfully in reasoning, the power of demonstrating himself the several things which he has proposed,⁵⁰ and the power of understanding the demonstrations of others, and of not being deceived by sophists, as if they were demonstrating. Therefore there has arisen among us the practice and exercise of conclusive arguments⁵¹ and figures, and it has been shown to be necessary.

But in fact in some cases we have properly granted the premises⁵² or assumptions, and there results from them something; and though it is not true, yet none the less it does result. What then ought I to do? Ought I to admit the falsehood? And how is that possible? Well, should I say that I did not properly grant that which we agreed upon? But you are not allowed to do even this. Shall I then say that the consequence does not arise through what has been conceded? But neither is this allowed. What then must be done in this case? Consider if it is not this: as to have borrowed is not enough to make a man still a debtor, but to this must be added the fact that he continues to owe the money and that the debt is not paid, so it is not enough to compel you to admit the inference⁵³that you have granted the premises ( τὰ λήμματα), but you must abide by what you have granted. Indeed, if the premises continue to the end such as they were when they were granted, it is absolutely necessary for us to abide by what we have granted, and we must accept their consequences: but if the premises do not remain⁵⁴ such as they were when they were granted, it is absolutely necessary for us also to withdraw from what we granted, and from accepting what does not follow from the words in which our concessions were made. For the inference is now not our inference, nor does it result with our assent, since we have withdrawn from the premises which we granted. We ought then both to examine such kinds of premises, and such change and variation of them (from one meaning to another), by which in the course of questioning or answering, or in making the syllogistic conclusion, or in any other such way, the premises undergo variations, and give occasion to the foolish to be confounded, if they do not see what conclusions (consequences) are. For what reason ought we to examine? In order that we may not in this matter be employed in an improper manner nor in a confused way.

And the same in hypotheses and hypothetical arguments; for it is necessary sometimes to demand the granting of some hypothesis as a kind of passage to the argument which follows. Must we then allow every hypothesis that is proposed, or not allow every one? And if not every one, which should we allow? And if a man has allowed an hypothesis, must he in every case abide by allowing it? or must he sometimes withdraw from it, but admit the consequences and not admit contradictions? Yes; but suppose that a man says, If you admit the hypothesis of a possibility, I will draw you to an impossibility. With such a person shall a man of sense refuse to enter into a contest, and avoid discussion and conversation with him? But what other man than the man of sense can use argumentation and is skilful in questioning and answering, and incapable of being cheated and deceived by false reasoning? And shall he enter into the contest, and yet not take care whether he shall engage in argument not rashly and not carelessly? And if he does not take care, how can he be such a man as we conceive him to be? But without some such exercise and preparation, can he maintain a continuous and consistent argument? Let them show this; and all these speculations ( θεωρήματα) become superfluous, and are absurd and inconsistent with our notion of a good and serious man.

Why are we still indolent and negligent and sluggish, and why do we seek pretences for not labouring and not being watchful in cultivating our reason? If then I shall make a mistake in these matters may I not have killed my father? Slave, where was there a father in this matter that you could kill him? What then have you done? The only fault that was possible here is the fault which you have committed. This is the very remark which I made to Rufus⁵⁵ when he blamed me for not having discovered the one thing omitted in a certain syllogism: I suppose, I said, that I have burnt the Capitol. Slave, he replied, was the thing omitted here the Capitol? Or are these the only crimes, to burn the Capitol and to kill your father? But for a man to use the appearances presented to him rashly and foolishly and carelessly, and not to understand argument, nor demonstration, nor sophism, nor, in a word, to see in questioning and answering what is consistent with that which we have granted or is not consistent; is there no error in this?

That the faculties⁵⁶ are not safe to the uninstructed

IN as many ways as we can change things⁵⁷ which are equivalent to one another, in just so many ways we can change the forms of arguments ( ἐπιχειρήματα) and enthymemes⁵⁸ ( ἐνθυμήματα) in argumentation. This is an instance: if you have borrowed and not repaid, you owe me the money: you have not borrowed and you have not repaid; then you do not owe me the money. To do this skilfully is suitable to no man more than to the philosopher; for if the enthymeme is an imperfect syllogism, it is plain that he who has been exercised in the perfect syllogism must be equally expert in the imperfect also.

Why then do we not exercise ourselves and one another in this manner? Because, I reply, at present, though we are not exercised in these things and not distracted from the study of morality, by me at least, still we make no progress in virtue. What then must we expect if we should add this occupation? and particularly as this would not only be an occupation which would withdraw us from more necessary things, but would also be a cause of self-conceit and arrogance, and no small cause. For great is the power of arguing and the faculty of persuasion, and particularly if it should be much exercised, and also receive additional ornament from language: and so universally, every faculty acquired by the uninstructed and weak brings with it the danger of these persons being elated and inflated by it. For by what means could one persuade a young man who excels in these matters, that he ought not to become an appendage⁵⁹ to them, but to make them an appendage to himself? Does he not trample on all such reasons, and strut before us elated and inflated, not enduring that any man should reprove him and remind him of what he has neglected and to what he has turned aside?

What then was not Plato a philosopher?⁶⁰ I reply, and was not Hippocrates a physician? but you see how Hippocrates speaks. Does Hippocrates then speak thus in respect of being a physician? Why do you mingle things which have been accidentally united in the same men? And if Plato was handsome and strong, ought I also to set to work and endeavour to become handsome or strong, as if this was necessary for philosophy, because a certain philosopher was at the same time handsome and a philosopher? Will you not choose to see and to distinguish in respect to what men become philosophers, and what things belong to them in other respects? And if I were a philosopher, ought you also to be made lame?⁶¹ What then? Do I take away these faculties which you possess? By no means; for neither do I take away the faculty of seeing. But if you ask me what is the good of man, I cannot mention to you anything else than that it is a certain disposition of the will with respect to appearances.⁶²

How from the fact that we are akin to God a man may proceed to the consequences.

IF the things are true which are said by the philosophers about the kinship between God and man, what else remains for men to do than what Socrates did? Never in reply to the question, to what country you belong, say that you are an Athenian or a Corinthian, but that you are a citizen of the world ( κόσμιος).⁶³ For why do you say that you are an Athenian, and why do you not say that you belong to the small nook only into which your poor body was cast at birth? Is it not plain that you call yourself an Athenian or Corinthian from the place which has a greater authority and comprises not only that small nook itself and all your family, but even the whole country from which the stock of your progenitors is derived down to you? He then who has observed with intelligence the administration of the world, and has learned that the greatest and supreme and the most comprehensive community is that which is composed of men and God, and that from God have descended the seeds not only to my father and grandfather, but to all beings which are generated on the earth and are produced, and particularly to rational beings—for these only are by their nature formed to have communion with God, being by means of reason conjoined with him⁶⁴—why should not such a man call himself a citizen of the world, why not a son of God,⁶⁵ and why should he be afraid of anything which happens among men? Is kinship with Caesar (the emperor) or with any other of the powerful in Rome sufficient to enable us to live in safety, and above ( contempt and without any fear at all? and to have God for your maker ( ποιητήν), and father and guardian, shall not this release us from sorrows and fears?

But a man may say, Whence shall I get bread to eat when I have nothing?

And how do slaves, and runaways, on what do they rely when they leave their masters? Do they rely on their lands or slaves, or their vessels of silver? They rely on nothing but themselves; and food does not fail them.⁶⁶ And shall it be necessary for one among us who is a philosopher to travel into foreign parts, and trust to and rely on others, and not to take care of himself, and shall he be inferior to irrational animals and more cowardly, each of which being self-sufficient, neither fails to get its proper food, nor to find a suitable way of living, and one conformable to nature?

I indeed think that the old man⁶⁷ ought to be sitting here, not to contrive how you may have no mean thoughts nor mean and ignoble talk about yourselves, but to take care that there be not among us any young men of such a mind, that when they have recognised their kinship to God, and that we are fettered by these bonds, the body, I mean, and its possessions, and whatever else on account of them is necessary to us for the economy and commerce of life, they should intend to throw off these things as if they were burdens painful and intolerable, and to depart to their kinsmen. But this is the labour that your teacher and instructor ought to be employed upon, if he really were what he should be. You should come to him and say, Epictetus, we can no longer endure being bound to this poor body, and feeding it and giving it drink, and rest, and cleaning it, and for the sake of the body complying with the wishes of these and of those.⁶⁸ Are not these things indifferent and nothing to us; and is not death no evil? And are we not in a manner kinsmen of God, and did we not come from him? Allow us to depart to the place from which we came; allow us to be released at last from these bonds by which we are bound and weighed down. Here there are robbers and thieves and courts of justice, and those who are named tyrants, and think that they have some power over us by means of the body and its possessions. Permit us to show them that they have no power over any man. And I on my part would say, Friends, wait for God: when He shall give the signal⁶⁹ and release you from this service, then go to Him; but for the present endure to dwell in this place where He has put you: short indeed is this time of your dwelling here, and easy to bear for those who are so disposed: for what tyrant or what thief, or what courts of justice, are formidable to those who have thus considered as things of no value the body and the possessions of the body? Wait then, do not depart without a reason.

Something like this ought to be said by the teacher to ingenuous youths. But now what happens? The teacher is a lifeless body, and you are lifeless bodies. When you have been well filled to-day, you sit down and lament about the morrow, how you shall get something to eat. Wretch, if you have it, you will have it; if you have it not, you will depart from life. The door is open.⁷⁰ Why do you grieve? where does there remain any room for tears? and where is there occasion for flattery? why shall one man envy another? why should a man admire the rich or the powerful, even if they be both very strong and of violent temper? for what will they do to us? We shall not care for that which they can do; and what we do care for, that they cannot do. How did Socrates behave with respect to these matters? Why, in what other way than a man ought to do who was convinced that he was a kinsman of the gods? If you say to me now, said Socrates to his judges,⁷¹ we will acquit you on the condition that you no longer discourse in the way in which you have hitherto discoursed, nor trouble either our young or our old men, I shall answer, you make yourselves ridiculous by thinking that, if one of our commanders has appointed me to a certain post, it is my duty to keep and maintain it, and to resolve to die a thousand times rather than desert it; but if God has put us in any place and way of life, we ought to desert it. Socrates speaks like a mar who is really a kinsman of the gods. But we think about ourselves, as if we were only stomachs, and intestines, and shameful parts; we fear, we desire; we flatter those who are able to help us in these matters, and we fear them also.

A man asked me to write to Rome about him, a man who, as most people thought, had been unfortunate, for formerly he was a man of rank and rich, but had been stripped of all, and was living here. I wrote on his behalf in a submissive manner; but when he had read the letter, he gave it back to me and said, I wished for your help, not your pity: no evil has happened to me.

Thus also Musonius Rufus, in order to try me, used to say: This and this will befall you from your master; and when I replied that these were things which happen in the ordinary course of human affairs. Why then, said he, should I ask him for anything when I can obtain it from you? For, in fact, what a man has from himself, it is superfluous and foolish to receive from another?⁷²s Shall I then, who am able to receive from myself greatness of soul and a generous spirit, receive from you land and money or a magisterial office? I hope not: I will not be so ignorant about my own possessions. But when a man is cowardly and mean, what else must be done for him than to write letters as you would about a corpse.⁷³ Please to grant us the body of a certain person and a sextarius of poor blood. For such a person is, in fact, a carcase and a sextarius (a certain quantity) of blood, and nothing more. But if he were anything more, lie would know that one man is not miserable through the means of another.

Against those who eagerly seek preferment at Rome .

IF we applied ourselves as busily to our own work as the old men at Rome do to those matters about which they are employed, perhaps we also might accomplish something. I am acquainted with a man older than myself, who is now superintendent of corn⁷⁴ at Rome , and I remember the time when he came here on his way back from exile, and what he said as he related the events of his former life, and how he declared that with respect to the future after his return he would look after nothing else than passing the rest of his life in quiet and tranquillity. For how little of life, he said, remains for me. I replied, you will not do it, but as soon as you smell Rome , you will forget all that you have said; and if admission is allowed even into the imperial palace, he⁷⁵ will gladly thrust himself in and thank God. If you find me, Epictetus, he answered, setting even one foot within the palace, think what you please. Well, what then did he do? Before he entered the city, he was met by letters from Caesar, and as soon as he received them, he forgot all, and ever after has added one piece of business to another. I wish that I were now by his side to remind him of what he said when he was passing this way, and to tell him how much better a seer I am than he is.

Well then do I say that man is an animal made for doing nothing?⁷⁶ Certainly not. But why are we not active?⁷⁷(We are active.) For example, as to myself, as soon as day comes, in a few words I remind myself of what I must read over to my pupils;⁷⁸ then forthwith I say to myself, But what is it to me how a certain person shall read? the first thing for me is to sleep. And indeed what resemblance is there between what other persons do and what we do? If you observe what they do, you will understand. And what else do they do all day long than make up accounts, enquire among themselves, give and take advice about some small quantity of grain, a bit of land, and such kind of profits? Is it then the same thing to receive a petition and to read in it: I intreat you to permit me to export⁷⁹ a small quantity of cor; and one to this effect: I intreat you to learn from Chrysippus what is the administration of the world, and what place in it the rational animal holds; consider also who you are, and what is the nature of your good and bad. Are these things like the other, do they require equal care, and is it equally base to neglect these and those? Well then are we the only persons who are lazy and love sleep? No; but much rather you young men are. For we old men when we see young men amusing themselves are eager to play with them; and if I saw you active and zealous, much more should I be eager myself to join you in your serious pursuits.

Of natural affection.

WHEN he was visited by one of the magistrates, Epictetus inquired of him about several particulars, and asked if he had children and a wife. The man replied that he had; and Epictetus inquired further, how he felt under the circumstances. Miserable, the man said. Then Epictetus asked, In what respect, for men do not marry and beget children in order to be wretched, but rather to be happy. But I, the man replied, am so wretched about my children that lately, when my little daughter was sick and was supposed to be in danger, I could not endure to stay with her, but I left home till a person sent me news that she had recovered. Well then, said Epictetus, do you think that you acted right? I acted naturally, the man replied. But convince me of this that you acted naturally, and I will convince you that everything which takes place according to nature takes place rightly. This is the case, said the man, with all or at least most fathers. I do not deny that: but the matter about which we are inquiring is whether such behaviour is right; for in respect to this matter we must say that tumours also come for the good of the body, because they do come; and generally we must say that to do wrong is natural, because nearly all or at least most of us do wrong. Do you show me then how your behaviour is natural. I cannot, he said; but do you rather show me how it is not according to nature, and is not rightly done.

Well, said Epictetus, if we were inquiring about white and black, what criterion should we employ for distinguishing between them? The sight, he said. And if about hot and cold, and hard and soft, what criterion? The touch. Well then, since we are inquiring about things which are according to nature, and those which are done rightly or not rightly, what kind of criterion do you think that we should employ? I do not know, he said. And yet not to know the criterion of colours and smells, and also of tastes, is perhaps no great harm; but if a man do not know the criterion of good and bad, and of things according to nature and contrary to nature, does this seem to you a small harm? The greatest harm (I think). Come tell me, do all things which seem to some persons to be good and becoming, rightly appear such; and at present as to Jews and Syrians and Egyptians and Romans, is it possible that the opinions of all of them in respect to food are right? How is it possible? he said. Well, I suppose, it is absolutely necessary that, if the opinions of the Egyptians are right, the opinions of the rest must be wrong: if the opinions of the Jews are right, those of the rest cannot be right. Certainly. But where there is ignorance, there also there is want of learning and training in things which are necessary. He assented to this. You then, said Epictetus, since you know this, for the future will employ yourself seriously about nothing else, and will apply your mind to nothing else than to learn the criterion of things which are according to nature, and by using it also to determine each several thing. But in the present matter I have so muck as this to aid you towards what you wish. Does affection to those of your family appear to you to be according to nature and to be good? Certainly. Well, is such affection natural and good, and is a thing consistent with reason not good? By no means. Is then that which is consistent with reason in contradiction with affection? I think not. You are right, for if it is otherwise, it is necessary that one of the contradictions being according to nature, the other must be contrary to nature. Is it not so? It is, he said. Whatever then we shall discover to be at the same time affectionate and also consistent with reason, this we confidently declare to be right and good. Agreed. Well then to leave your sick child and to go away is not reasonable, and I suppose that you will not say that it is; but it remains for us to inquire if it is consistent with affection. Yes, let us consider. Did you then, since you had an affectionate disposition to your child, do right when you ran off and left her; and has the mother no affection for the child? Certainly, she has. Ought then the mother also to have left her, or ought she not? She ought not. And the nurse, does she love her? She does. Ought then she also to have left her? By no means. And the paedagogue,⁸⁰ does he not love her? He does love her. Ought then he also to have deserted her? and so should the child have been left alone and without help on account of the great affection of you the parents and of those about her, or should she have died in the hands of those who neither loved her nor cared for her? Certainly not. Now this is unfair and unreasonable, not to allow those who have equal affection with yourself to do what you think to be proper for yourself to do because you have affection. It is absurd. Come then, if you were sick, would you wish your relations to be so affectionate, and all the rest, children and wife, as to leave you alone and deserted? By no means. And would you wish to be so loved by your own that through their excessive affection you would always be left alone in sickness? or for this reason would you rather pray, if it were possible, to be loved by your enemies and deserted by them? But if this is so, it results that your behaviour was not at all an affectionate act.

Well then, was it nothing which moved you and induced you to desert your child? and how is that possible? But it might be something of the kind which moved a man at Rome to wrap up his head while a horse was running which he favoured; and when contrary to expectation the horse won, he required sponges to recover from his fainting fit. What then is the thing which moved? The exact discussion of this does not belong to the present occasion perhaps; but it is enough to be convinced of this, if what the philosophers say is true, that we must not look for it anywhere without, but in all cases it is one and the same thing which is the cause of our doing or not doing something, of saying or not saying something, of being elated or depressed, of avoiding any thing or pursuing: the very thing which is now the cause to me and to you, to you of coming to me and sitting and hearing, and to me of saying what I do say. And what is this? Is it any other than our will to do sc? No other. But if we had willed otherwise, what else should we have been doing than that which we willed to do? This then was the cause of Achilles’ lamentation, not the death of Patroclus; for another man does not behave thus on the death of his companion; but it was because he chose to do so. And to you this was the very cause of your then running away, that you chose to do so; and on the other side, if you should (hereafter) stay with her, the reason will be the same. And now you are going to Rome because you choose; and if you should change your mind,⁸¹ you will not go thither. And in a word, neither death nor exile nor pain nor anything of the kind is the cause of our doing anything or not doing; but our own opinions and our wills ( δόγματα).

Do I convince you of this or not? You do convince me. Such then as the causes are in each case, such also are the effects. When then we are doing anything not rightly, from this day we shall impute it to nothing else than to the will ( δόγμα or opinion) from which we have done it: and it is that which we shall endeavour to take away and to extirpate more than the tumours and abscesses out of the body. And in like manner we shall give the same account of the cause of the things which we do right; and we shall no longer allege as causes of any evil to us, either slave or neighbour, or wife or children, being persuaded, that if we do not think things to be what we do think them to be, we do not the acts which follow from such opinions; and as to thinking or not thinking, that is in our power and not in externals. It is so, he said. From this day then we shall inquire into and examine nothing else, what its quality is, or its state, neither land nor slaves nor horses nor dogs, nothing else than opinions.⁸² I hope so. You see then that you must become a Scholasticus,⁸³ an animal whom all ridicule, if you really intend to make an examination of your own opinions: and that this is not the work of one hour or day, you know yourself.

Of contentment.

WITH respect to gods, there are some who say that a divine being does not exist: others say that it exists, but is inactive and careless, and takes no forethought about any thing; a third class say that such a being exists and exercises forethought, but only about great things and heavenly things, and about nothing on the earth; a fourth class say that a divine being exercises forethought both about things on the earth and heavenly things, but in a general way only, and not about things severally. There is a fifth class to whom Ulysses and Socrates belong, who say:

I move not without thy knowledge

⁸⁴(Iliad, x. 278). Before all other things then it is necessary to inquire about each of these opinions, whether it is affirmed truly or not truly. For if there are no gods, how is it our proper end to follow them?⁸⁵ And if they exist, but take no care of anything, in this case also how will it be right to follow them? But if indeed they do exist and look after things, still if there is nothing communicated from them to men, nor in fact to myself, how even so is it right (to follow them)? The wise and good man then after considering all these things, submits his own mind to him who administers the whole, as good citizens do to the law of the state. He who is receiving instruction ought to come to be instructed with this intention, How shall I follow the gods in all things, how shall I be contented with the divine administration, and how can I become free? For he is free to whom every thing happens according to his will, and whom no man can hinder. What then is freedom madness? Certainly not: for madness; in freedom do not consist. But, you say, I would have every thing result just as I like, and in whatever way I like. You are mad, you are beside yourself. Do you not know that freedom is a noble and valuable thing? But for me inconsiderately to wish for things to happen as I inconsiderately like, this appears to be not only not noble, but even most base. For how do we proceed in the matter of writing? Do I wish to write the name of Dion as I choose? No, but I am taught to choose to write it as it ought to be written. And how with respect to music? In the same manner. And what universally in every art or science? Just the same. If it were not so, it would be of no value to know anything, if knowledge were adapted to every man’s whim. Is it then in this alone, in this which is the greatest and the chief thing, I mean freedom, that I am permitted to will inconsiderately? By no means; but to be instructed is this, to learn to wish that every thing may happen as it does.⁸⁶ And how do things happen? As the disposer has disposed them? And he has appointed summer and winter, and abundance and scarcity, and virtue and vice, and all such opposites for the harmony of the whole;⁸⁷ and to each of us he has given a body, and parts of the body, and possessions, and companions.

Remembering then this disposition of things, we ought to go to be instructed, not that we may change the constitution⁸⁸ of things,—for we have not the power to do it, nor is it better that we should have the power,—but in order that, as the things around us are what they are and by nature exist, we may maintain our minds in harmony with the things which happen. For can we escape from men? and how is it possible? And if we associate with them, can we change them? Who gives us the power? What then remains, or what method is discovered of holding commerce with them? Is there such a method by which they shall do what seems fit to them, and we not the less shall be in a mood which is conformable to nature? But you are unwilling to endure and are discontented: and if you are alone, you call it solitude; and if you are with men, you call them knaves and robbers; and you find fault with your own parents and children, and brothers and neighbours. But you ought when you are alone to call this condition by the name of tranquillity and freedom, and to think yourself like to the gods; and when you are with many, you ought not to call it crowd, nor trouble, nor uneasiness, but festival and assembly, and so accept all contentedly.

What then is the punishment of those who do not accept? It is to be what they are. Is any person dissatisfied with being alone? let him be alone. Is a man dissatisfied with his parents? let him be a bad son, and lament. Is he dissatisfied with his children? let him be a bad father. Cast him into prison. What prison? Where he is already, for he is there against his will; and where a man is against his will, there he is in prison. So Socrates was not in prison, for he was there willingly— Must my leg then be lamed? Wretch, do you then on account of one poor leg find fault with the world? Will you not willingly surrender it for the whole? Will you not withdraw from it? Will you not gladly part with it to him who gave it? And will you be vexed and discontented with the things established by Zeus, which he with the Moirae (fates) who were present and spinning the thread of your generation, defined and put in order? Know you not how small apart you are compared with the whole.⁸⁹ I mean with respect to the body, for as to intelligence you are not inferior to the gods nor less; for the magnitude of intelligence is not measured by length nor yet by height, but by thoughts.⁹⁰

Will you not then choose to place your good in that in which you are equal to the gods?—Wretch that I am to have such a father and mother.—What then, was it permitted to you to come forth and to select and to say: Let such a man at this moment unite with such a woman that I may be produced? It was not permitted, but it was a necessity for your parents to exist first, and then for you to be begotten. Of what kind of parents? Of such as they were. Well then, since they are such as they are, is there no remedy given to you? Now if you did not know for what purpose you possess the faculty of vision, you would be unfortunate and wretched if you closed your eyes when colours were brought before them; but in that you possess greatness of soul and nobility of spirit for every event that may happen, and you know not that you possess them, are you not more unfortunate and wretched? Things are brought close to you which are proportionate to the power which you possess, but you turn away this power most particularly at the very time when you ought to maintain it open and discerning. Do you not rather thank the gods that they have allowed you to be above these things which they have not placed in your power, and have made you accountable only for those which are in your power? As to your parents, the gods have left you free from responsibility; and so with respect to your brothers, and your body, and possessions, and death and life. For what then have they made you responsible? For that which alone is in your power, the proper use of appearances. Why then do you draw on yourself the things for which you are not responsible? It is, indeed, a giving of trouble to yourself.

How everything may be done acceptably to the gods.

WHEN some one asked, how may a man eat acceptably to the gods, he answered: If he can eat justly and contentedly, and with equanimity, and temperately and orderly, will it not be also acceptably to the gods? But when you have asked for warm water and the slave has not heard, or if he did hear has brought only tepid water, or he is not even found to be in the house, then not to be vexed or to burst with passion, is not this acceptable to the gods?—How then shall a man endure such persons as this slave? Slave yourself, will you not bear with your own brother, who has Zeus for his progenitor, and is like a son from the same seeds and of the same descent from above? But if you have been put in any such higher place, will you immediately make yourself a tyrant? Will you not remember who you are, and whom you rule? that they are kinsmen, that they are brethren by nature, that they are the offspring of Zeus?⁹¹—But I have purchased them, and they have not purchased me. Do you see in what direction you are looking, that it is towards the earth, towards the pit, that it is towards these wretched laws of dead men?⁹² but towards the laws of the gods you are not looking.

That the deity oversees all things.

WHEN a person asked him how a man could be convinced that all his actions are under the inspection of God, he answered, Do you not think that all things are united in one?⁹³ do, the person replied. Well, do you not think that earthly things have a natural agreement and union⁹⁴ with heavenly things? I do. And how else so regularly as if by God’s command, when He bids the plants to flower, do they flower? when He bids them to send forth shoots, do they shoot? when He bids them to produce fruit, how else do they produce fruit? when He bids the fruit to ripen, does it ripen? when again He bids them to cast down the fruits, how else do they cast them down? and when to shed the leaves, do they shed the leaves? and when He bids them to fold themselves up and to remain quiet and rest, how else do they remain quiet and rest? And how else at the growth and the wane of the moon, and at the approach and recession of the sun, are so great an alteration and change to the contrary seen in earthly things?⁹⁵ But are plants and our bodies so bound up and united with the whole, and are not our souls much more? and our souls so bound up and in contact with God as parts of Him and portions of Him; and does not God perceive every motion of these parts as being his own motion connate with himself? Now are you able to think of the divine administration, and about all things divine, and at the same time also about human affairs, and to be moved by ten thousand things at the same time in your senses and in your understanding, and to assent to some, and to dissent from others, and again as to some things to suspend your judgment; and do you retain in your soul so many impressions from so many and various things, and being moved by them, do you fall upon notions similar to those first impressed, and do you retain numerous arts and the memories of ten thousand things; and is not God able to oversee all things, and to be present with all, and to receive from all a certain communication? And is the sun able to illuminate so large a part of the All, and to leave so little not illuminated, that part only which is occupied by the earth’s shadow; and He who made the sun itself and makes it go round, being a small part of himself compared with the whole, cannot He perceive all things?

But I cannot, the man may reply, comprehend all these things at once. But who tells you that you have equal power with Zeus? Nevertheless he has placed by every man a guardian, every man’s Daemon,⁹⁶ to whom he has committed the care of the man, a guardian who never sleeps, is never deceived. For to what better and more careful guardian could He have intrusted each of us?⁹⁷ When then you have shut the doors and made darkness within, remember never to say that you are alone, for you are not; but God is within, and your Daemon is within, and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To this God you ought to swear an oath just as the soldiers do to Caesar. But they who are hired for pay swear to regard the safety of Caesar before all things; and you who have received so many and such great favors, will you not swear, or when you have sworn, will you not abide by your oath? And what shall you swear? Never to be disobedient, never to make any charges, never to find fault with any thing that he has given, and never unwillingly to do or to suffer any thing that is necessary. Is this oath like the soldier’s oath? The soldiers swear not to prefer any man to Cæsar: in this oath men swear to honour themselves before all.⁹⁸

What philosophy promises.

WHEN a man was consulting him how he should persuade his brother to cease being angry with him, Epictetus replied, Philosophy does not propose to secure for a man any external thing. If it did (or, if it were not, as I say), philosophy would be allowing something which is not within its province. For as the carpenter’s material is wood, and that of the statuary is copper, so the matter of the art of living is each man’s life.—What then is my brother’s?—That again belongs to his own art; but with respect to yours, it is one of the external things, like a piece of land, like health, like reputation. But Philosophy promises none of these. In every circumstance I will maintain, she says, the governing part⁹⁹ conformable to nature. Whose governing part? His in whom I am, she says.

How then shall my brother cease to be angry with me? Bring him to me and I will tell him. But I have nothing to say to you about his anger.

When the man, who was consulting him, said, I seek to know this, How, even if my brother is not reconciled to me, shall I maintain myself in a state conformable to nature? Nothing great, said Epictetus, is produced suddenly, since not even the grape or the fig is. If you say to me now that you want a fig, I will answer to you that it requires time: let it flower¹⁰⁰ first, then put forth fruit, and then ripen. Is then the fruit of a fig-tree not perfected suddenly and in one hour, and would you possess the fruit of a man’s mind in so short a time and so easily? Do not expect it, even if I tell you.

Of Providence.

Do not wonder if for other animals than man all things are provided for the body, not only food and drink, but beds also, and they have no need of shoes nor bed materials, nor clothing; but we require all these additional things. For animals not being made for themselves, but for service, it was not fit for them to be made so as to need other things. For consider what it would be for us to take care not only of ourselves, but also about cattle and asses, how they should be clothed, and how shod, and how they should eat and drink. Now as soldiers are ready for their commander, shod, clothed, and armed: but it would be a hard thing for the chiliarch (tribune) to go round and shoe or clothe his thousand men: so also nature has formed the animals which are made for service, all ready, prepared, and requiring no further care. So one little boy with only a stick drives the cattle.

But now we, instead of being thankful that we need not take the same care of animals as of ourselves, complain of God on our own account; and yet, in the name of Zeus and the gods, any one thing of those which exist would be enough to make a man perceive the providence of God, at least a man who is modest and grateful. And speak not to me now of the great things, but only of this, that milk is produced from grass, and cheese from milk, and wool form skins. Who made these things or devised them? No one, you say. O amazing shamelessness and stupidity!

Well, let us omit the works of nature, and contemplate her smaller (subordinate, πάρεργα) acts. Is there anything less useful than the hair on the chin? What then, has not nature used this hair also in the most suitable manner possible? Has she not by it distinguished the male and the female? does not the nature of every man forthwith proclaim from a distance, I am a man: as such approach me, as such speak to me; look for nothing else; see the signs? Again, in the case of women, as she has mingled something softer in the voice, so she has also deprived them of hair (on the chin). You say, not so: the human animal ought to have been left without marks of distinction, and each of us should have been obliged to proclaim, I am a man. But how is not the sign beautiful and becoming and venerable? how much more beautiful than the cock’s comb, how much more becoming than the lion’s mane? For this reason we ought to preserve the signs which God has given, we ought not to throw them away, nor to confound, as much as we can, the distinctions of the sexes.

Are these the only works of providence in us? And what words are sufficient to praise them and set them forth according to their worth? For if we had understanding, ought we to do any thing else both jointly and severally than to sing hymns and bless the deity, and to tell of his benefits?¹⁰¹ Ought we not when we are digging and ploughing and eating to sing this hymn to God? Great is God, who has given us such implements with which we shall cultivate the earth: great is God who has given us hands, the power of swallowing, a stomach, imperceptible growth, and the power of breathing while we sleep. This is what we ought to sing on every occasion, and to sing the greatest and most divine hymn for giving us the faculty of comprehending these things and using a proper way.¹⁰² Well then, since most of you have become blind, ought there not to be some man to fill this office, and on behalf of all to sing¹⁰³ the hymn to God? For what else can I do, a lame old man, than sing hymns to God? If then I was a nightingale, I would do the part of a nightingale. if I were a swan, I would do like a swan. But now I am a rational creature, and I ought to praise God: this is my work; I do it, nor will I desert this post, so long as I am allowed to keep it; and I exhort you to join in this same song.

That the logical art is necessary.

SINCE reason is the faculty which analyses¹⁰⁴ and perfects the rest, and it ought itself not to be unanalysed, by what should it be analysed? for it is plain that this should be done either by itself or by another thing. Either then this other thing also is reason, or something else superior to reason; which is impossible. But if it is reason, again who shall analyse that reason? For if that reason does this for itself, our reason also can do it. But if we shall require something else, the thing will go on to infinity and have no end.¹⁰⁵ Reason therefore is analysed by itself. Yes: but it is more urgent to cure (our opinions¹⁰⁶) and the like. Will you then hear about those things? Hear. But if you should say, I know not whether you are arguing truly or falsely, and if I should express myself in any way ambiguously, and you should say to me, Distinguish, I will bear with you no longer, and I shall say to you, It is more urgent.¹⁰⁷ This is the reason, I suppose, why they (the Stoic teachers) place the logical art first, as in the measuring of corn we place first the examination of the measure. But if we do not determine first what is a modius, and what is a balance, how shall we be able to measure or weigh anything?

In this case then if we have not fully learned and accurately examined the criterion of all other things, by which the other things are learned, shall we be able to examine accurately and to learn fully any thing else? How is this possible? Yes; but the modius is only wood, and a thing which produces no fruit.—But it is a thing which can measure corn.—Logic also produces no fruit.—As to this indeed we shall see: but then even if a man should grant this, it is enough that logic has the power of distinguishing and examining other things, and, as we may say, of measuring and weighing them. Who says this? Is it only Chrysippus, and Zeno, and Cleanthes? And does not Antisthenes say so?¹⁰⁸ And who is it that has written that the examination of names is the beginning of education? And does not Socrates say so? And of whom does Xenophon write, that he began with the examination of names, what each name signified?¹⁰⁹ Is this then the great and wondrous thing to understand or interpret Chrysippus? Who says this?—What then is the wondrous thing?—To understand the will of nature. Well then do you apprehend it yourself by your own power? and what more have you need of? For if it is true that all men err involuntarily, and you have learned the truth, of necessity you must act right.—But in truth I do not apprehend the will of nature. Who then tells us what it is?—They say that it is Chrysippus.—I proceed, and I inquire what this interpreter of nature says. I begin not to understand what he says: I seek an interpreter of Chrysippus.—Well, consider how this is said, just as if it were said in the Roman tongue.¹¹⁰—What then is this superciliousness of the interpreter?¹¹¹ There is no superciliousness which can justly be charged even to Chrysippus, if he only interprets the will of nature, but does not follow it himself; and much more is this so with his interpreter. For we have no need of Chrysippus for his own sake, but in order that we may understand nature. Nor do we need a diviner (sacrificer) on his own account, but because we think that through him we shall know the future and understand the signs given by the gods; nor do we need the viscera of animals for their own sake, but because through them signs are given; nor do we look with wonder on the crow or raven, but on God, who through them gives signs?¹¹²

I go then to the interpreter of these things and the sacrificer, and I say, Inspect the viscera for me, and tell me what signs they give. The man takes the viscera, opens them, and interprets: Man, he says, you have a will free by nature from hindrance and compulsion; this is written here in the viscera. I will show you this first in the matter of assent. Can any man hinder you from assenting to the truth? No man can. Can any man compel you to receive what is false? No man can. You see that in this matter you have the faculty of the will free from hindrance, free from compulsion, unimpeded. Well then, in the matter of desire and pursuit of an object, is it otherwise? And what can overcome pursuit except another pursuit? And what can overcome desire and aversion ( ἔκκλισιν) except another desire and aversion? But, you object: If you place before me the fear of death, you do compel me. No, it is not what is placed before you that compels, but your opinion that it is better to do so and so than to die. In this matter then it is your opinion that compelled you: that is, will compelled will¹¹³. For if God had made that part of himself, which he took from himself and gave to us, of such a nature as to be hindered or compelled either by himself or by another, he would not then be God nor would he be taking care of us as he ought. This, says the diviner, I find in the victims: these are the things which are signified to you. If you choose, you are free; if you choose, you will blame no one: you will charge no one. All will be at the same time according to your mind and the mind of God. For the sake of this divination I go to this diviner and to the philosopher, not admiring him for this interpretation, but admiring the things which he interprets.

That we ought not to be angry with the errors (faults) of others.

IF what philosophers say is true, that all men have one principle, as in the case of assent the persuasion¹¹⁴ that a thing is so, and in the case of dissent the persuasion that a thing is not so, and in the case of a suspense of judgment the persuasion that a thing is uncertain, so also in the case of a movement towards any thing the persuasion that a thing is for a man’s advantage, and it is impossible to think that one thing is advantageous and to desire another, and to judge one thing to be proper and to move towards another, why then are we angry with the many?¹¹⁵ They are thieves and robbers, you may say. What do you mean by thieves and robbers? They are mistaken about good and evil. Ought we then to be angry with them, or to pity them? But show them their error, and you will see how they desist from their errors. If they do not see their errors, they have nothing superior to their present opinion.

Ought not then this robber and this adulterer to be destroyed? By no means say so, but speak rather in this way: This man who has been mistaken and deceived about the most important things, and blinded, not in the faculty of vision which distinguishes white and black, but in the faculty which distinguishes good and bad, should we not destroy him? If you speak thus, you will see how inhuman this is which you say, and that it is just as if you would say, Ought we not to destroy this blind and deaf man? But if the greatest harm is the privation of the greatest things, and the greatest thing in every man is the will or choice such as it ought to be, and a man is deprived of this will, why are you also angry with him? Man, you ought not to be affected contrary to nature by the bad things of another.¹¹⁶ Pity him rather: drop this readiness to be offended and to hate, and these words which the many utter: these accursed and odious fellows. How have you been made so wise at once? and how are you so peevish? Why then are we angry? Is it because we value so much the things of which these men rob us? Do not admire your clothes, and then you will not be angry with the thief. Do not admire the beauty of your wife, and you will not be angry with the adulterer. Learn that a thief and an adulterer have no place in the things which are yours, but in those which belong to others and which are not in your power. If you dismiss these things and consider them as nothing, with whom are you still angry? But so long as you value these things, be angry with yourself rather than with the thief and the adulterer. Consider the matter thus: you have fine clothes; your neighbour has not: you have a window; you wish to air the clothes. The thief does not know wherein man’s good consists, but he thinks that it consists in having fine clothes, the very thing which you also think. Must he not then come and take them away? When you show a cake to greedy persons, and swallow it all yourself, do you expect them not to snatch it from you? Do not provoke them: do not have a window: do not air your clothes. I also lately had an iron lamp placed by the side of my household gods: hearing a noise at the door, I ran down, and found that the lamp had been carried off. I reflected that he who had taken the lamp had done nothing strange. What then? To-morrow, I said, you will find an earthen lamp: for a man only loses that which he has. I have lost my garment. The reason is that you had a garment. I have pain in my head. Have you any pain in your horns? Why then are you troubled? for we only lose those things, we have only pains about those things which we possess.¹¹⁷

But the tyrant will chain—what? the leg. He will take away—what? the neck. What then will he not chain and not take away? the will. This is why the antients taught the maxim, Know thyself.¹¹⁸ Therefore we ought to exercise ourselves in small¹¹⁹ things, and beginning with them to proceed to the greater. I have pain in the head. Do not say, alas! I have pain in the ear. Do not say, alas! And I do not say, that you are not allowed to groan, but do not groan inwardly; and if your slave is slow in bringing a bandage, do not cry out and torment yourself, and say, Every body hates me: for who would not hate such a man? For the future, relying on these opinions, walk about upright, free; not trusting to the size of your body, as an athlete, for a man ought not to be invincible in the way that an ass is.¹²⁰

Who then is the invincible? It is he whom none of the things disturb which are independent of the will. Then examining one circumstance after another I observe, as in the case of an athlete; he has come off victorious in the first contest: well then, as to the second? and what if there should be great heat? and what, if it should be at Olympia ? And the same I say in this case: if you should throw money in his way, he will despise it. Well, suppose you put a young girl in his way, what then? and what, if it is in the dark?¹²¹ what if it should be a little reputation, or abuse; and what, if it should be praise; and what if it should be death? He is able to overcome all. What then if it be in heat, and what if it is in the rain,¹²² and what if he be in a melancholy (mad) mood, and what if he be asleep? He will still conquer. This is my invincible athlete.

How we should behave to tyrants.

IF a man possesses any superiority, or thinks that he does, when he does not, such a man, if he is uninstructed, will of necessity be puffed up through it. For instance, the tyrant says, I am master of all? And what can you do for me? Can you give me desire which shall have no hindrance? How can you? Have you the infallible power of avoiding what you would avoid? Have you the power of moving towards an object without error? And how do you possess this power? Come, when you are in a ship, do you trust to yourself or to the helmsman? And when you are in a chariot, to whom do you trust but to the driver? And how is it in all other arts? Just the same. In what then lies your power? All men pay respect¹²³ to me. Well, I also pay respect to my platter, and I wash it and wipe it; and for the sake of my oil flask, I drive a peg into the wall. Well then, are these things superior to me? No, but they supply some of my wants, and for this reason I take care of them. Well, do I not attend to my ass? Do I not wash his feet? Do I not clean him? Do you not know that every man has regard to himself, and to you just the same as he has regard to his ass? For who has regard to you as a man? Show me. Who wishes to become like you? Who imitates you, as he imitates Socrates?—But I can cut off your head.—You say right. I had forgotten that I must have regard to you, as I would to a fever¹²⁴ and the bile, and raise an altar to you, as there is at Rome an altar to fever.

What is it then that disturbs and terrifies the multitude? is it the tyrant and his guards? [By no means.] I hope that it is not so. It is not possible that what is by nature free can be disturbed by anything else, or hindered by any other thing than by itself. But it is a man’s own opinions which disturb him: for when the tyrant says to a man, I will chain your leg, he who values his leg says, Do not; have pity: but he who values his own will says, If it appears more advantageous to you, chain it. Do you not care? I do not care. I will show you that I am master. You cannot do that. Zeus has set me free: do you think that he intended to allow his own son¹²⁵ to be enslaved? But you are master of my carcase: take it.—So when you approach me, you have no regard to me? No, but I have regard to myself; and if you wish me to say that I have regard to you also, I tell you that I have the same regard to you that I have to my pipkin.

This is not a perverse self-regard,¹²⁶ for the animal is constituted so as to do all things for itself. For even the sun does all things for itself; nay, even Zeus himself. But when he chooses to be the Giver of rain and the Giver of fruits, and the Father of Gods and men, you see that he cannot obtain these functions and these names, if he is not useful to man; and, universally, he has made the nature of the rational animal such that it cannot obtain any one of its own proper interests, if it does not contribute something to the common interest.¹²⁷ In this manner and sense it is not unsociable for a man to do every thing for the sake of himself. For what do you expect? that a man should neglect himself and his own interest? And how in that case can there be one and the same principle in all animals, the principle of attachment (regard) to themselves?

What then? when absurd notions about things independent of our will, as if they were good and (or) bad, lie at the bottom of our opinions, we must of necessity pay regard to tyrants; for I wish that men would pay regard to tyrants only, and not also to the bedchamber men.¹²⁸ How is it that the man becomes all at once wise, when Caesar has made him superintendent of the close stool? How is it that we say immediately, Felicion spoke sensibly to me. I wish he were ejected from the bedchamber, that he might again appear to you to be a fool.

Epaphroditus¹²⁹ had a shoemaker whom he sold because he was good for nothing. This fellow by some good luck was bought by one of Caesar’s men, and became Caesar’s shoemaker. You should have seen what respect Epaphroditus paid to him: How does the good Felicion do, I pray? Then if any of us asked, What is master (Epaphroditus) doing? the answer was, He is consulting about something with Felicion. Had he not sold the man as good for nothing? Who then made him wise all at once? This is an instance of valuing something else than the things which depend on the will.

Has a man been exalted to the tribuneship? All who meet him offer their congratulations: one kisses his eyes, another the neck, and the slaves kiss his hands.¹³⁰ He goes to his house, he finds torches lighted. He ascends the Capitol: he offers a sacrifice on the occasion. Now who ever sacrificed for having had good desires? for having acted conformably to nature? For in fact we thank the gods for those things in which we place our good.¹³¹ A person was talking to me to-day about the priesthood of Augustus.¹³² I say to him: Man, let the thing alone: you will spend much for no purpose. But he replies, Those who draw up agreements will write my name. Do you then stand by those who read them, and say to such persons It is I whose name is written there? And if you can now be present on all such occasions, what will you do when you are dead? My name will remain.— Write it on a stone, and it will remain. But come, what remembrance of you will there be beyond Nicopolis ?—But I shall wear a crown of gold.—If you desire a crown at all, take a crown of roses and put it on, for it will be more elegant in appearance.

About reason, how it contemplates itself.

¹³³

EVERY art and faculty contemplates certain things especially.¹³⁴ When then it is itself of the same kind with the objects which it contemplates, it must of necessity contemplate itself also: but when it is of an unlike kind, it cannot contemplate itself. For instance, the shoemaker’s art is employed on skins, but itself is entirely distinct from the material of skins: for this reason it does not contemplate itself. Again, the grammarian’s art is employed about articulate speech;¹³⁵ is then the art also articulate speech? By no means. For this reason it is not able to contemplate itself. Now reason, for what purpose has it been given by nature? For the right use of appearances. What is it then itself? A system (combination) of certain appearances. So by its nature it has the faculty of contemplating itself also. Again, sound sense, for the contemplation of what things does it belong to us? Good and evil, and things which are neither. What is it then itself? Good. And want of sense, what is it? Evil. Do you see then that good sense necessarily contemplates both itself and the opposite? For this reason it is the chief and the first work of a philosopher to examine appearances, and to distinguish them, and to admit none without examination. You see even in the matter of coin, in which our interest appears to be somewhat concerned, how we have invented an art, and how many means the assayer uses to try the value of coin, the sight, the touch, the smell, and lastly the hearing. He throws the coin (denarius) down, and observes the sound, and he is not content with its sounding once, but through his great attention he becomes a musician. In like manner, where we think that to be mistaken and not to be mistaken make a great difference, there we apply great attention to discovering the things which can deceive. But in the matter of our miserable ruling faculty, yawning and sleeping, we carelessly admit every appearance, for the harm is not noticed.

When then you would know how careless you are with respect to good and evil, and how active with respect to things which are indifferent¹³⁶ (neither good nor evil), observe how you feel with respect to being deprived of the sight of the eyes, and how with respect to being deceived, and you will discover that you are far from feeling as you ought to do in relation to good and evil. But this is a matter which requires much preparation, and much labour and study. Well then do you expect to acquire the greatest of arts with small labour? And yet the chief doctrine of philosophers is very brief. If you would know, read Zeno’s¹³⁷ writings and you will see For how few words it requires to say that man’s end (or object) is to follow¹³⁸ the gods, and that the nature of good is a proper use of appearances. But if you say What is God, what is appearance, and what is particular and what is universal¹³⁹ nature? then indeed many words are necessary. If then Epicurus should come and say, that the good must be in the body; in this case also many words become necessary, and we must be taught what is the leading principle in us, and the fundamental and the substantial; and as it is not probable that the good of a snail is in the shell, is it probable that the good of a man is in the body? But you yourself, Epicurus, possess something better than this. What is that in you which deliberates, what is that which examines every thing, what is that which forms a judgment about the body itself, that it is the principal part? and why do you light your lamp and labour for us, and write so many¹⁴⁰ books? is it that we may not be ignorant of the truth, who we are, and what we are with respect to you? Thus the discussion requires many words.

Against those who wish to be admired.

WHEN a man holds his proper station in life, he does not gape after things beyond it. Man, what do you wish to happen to you? I am satisfied if I desire and avoid conformably to nature, if I employ movements towards and from an object as I am by nature formed to do, and purpose and design and assent. Why then do you strut before us as if you had swallowed a spit? My wish has always been that those who meet me should admire me, and those who follow me should exclaim O the great philosopher. Who are they by whom you wish to be admired? Are they not those of whom you are used to say, that they are mad? Well then do you wish to be admired by madmen?

On praecognitions.

¹⁴¹

PRAECOGNITIONS are common to all men, and praecognition is not contradictory to praecognition. For who of us does not assume that Good is useful and eligible, and in all circumstances that we ought to follow and pursue it? And who of us does not assume that Justice is beautiful and becoming? When then does the contradiction arise? It arises in the adaptation of the praecognitions to the particular cases. When one man says, He has done well: he is a brave man, and another says, Not so; but he has acted foolishly; then the disputes arise among men. This is the dispute among the Jews and the Syrians and the Egyptians and the Romans; not whether holiness¹⁴² should be preferred to all things and in all cases should be pursued, but whether it is holy to eat pig’s flesh or not holy. You will find this dispute also between Agamemnon and Achilles;¹⁴³ for call them forth. What do you say, Agamemnon? ought not that to be done which is proper and right? Certainly. Well, what do you say, Achilles? do you not admit that what is good ought to be done? I do most certainly. Adapt your praecognitions then to the present matter. Here the dispute begins. Agamemnon says, I ought not to give up Chryseis to her father. Achilles says, You ought. It is certain that one of the two makes a wrong adaptation of the praecognition of ought or duty. Further, Agamemnon says, Then if I ought to restore Chryseis, it is fit that I take his prize from some of you. Achilles replies, Would you then take her whom I love? Yes, her whom you love. Must I then be the only man who goes without a prize? and must I be the only man who has no prize? Thus the dispute begins.¹⁴⁴

What then is education? Education is the learning how to adapt the natural praecognitions to the particular things conformably to nature; and then to distinguish that of things some are in our power, but others are not: in our power are will and all acts which depend on the will; things not in our power are the body, the parts of the body, possessions, parents, brothers, children, country and generally, all with whom we live in society. In what then should we place the good? To what kind of things ( οὐσίᾳ) shall we adapt it? To the things which are in our power? Is not health then a good thing, and soundness of limb, and life? and are not children and parents and country? Who will tolerate you if you deny this?

Let us then transfer the notion of good to these things. Is it possible then, when a man sustains damage and does not obtain good things, that he can be happy? It is not possible. And can he maintain towards society a proper behaviour? He can not. For I am naturally formed to look after my own interest. If it is my interest to have an estate in land, it is my interest also to take it from my neighbour. If it is my interest to have a garment, it is my interest also to steal it from the bath.¹⁴⁵ This is the origin of wars, civil commotions, tyrannies, conspiracies. And how shall I be still able to maintain my duty towards Zeus? for if I sustain damage and am unlucky, he takes no care of me; and what is he to me if he cannot help me; and further, what is he to me if he allows me to be in the condition in which I am? I now begin to hate him. Why then do we build temples, why set up statues to Zeus, as well as to evil daemons, such as to Fever;¹⁴⁶ and how is Zeus the Saviour, and how the giver of rain, and the giver of fruits? And in truth if we place the nature of Good in any such things, all this follows.

What should we do then? This is the inquiry of the true philosopher who is in labour.¹⁴⁷ Now I do not see what the Good is nor the Bad. Am I not mad? Yes. But suppose that I place the good somewhere among the things which depend on the will: all will laugh at me. There will come some greyhead wearing many gold rings on his fingers, and he will shake his head and say, Hear, my child. It is right that you should philosophize; but you ought to have some brains also: all this that you are doing is silly. You learn the syllogism from philosophers; but you know how to act better than philosophers do.—Man, why then do you blame me, if I know? What shall I say to this slave? If I am silent, he will burst. I must speak in this way: Excuse me, as you would excuse lovers: I am not my own master: I am mad.

Against Epicurus.

EVEN Epicurus perceives that we are by nature social, but having once placed our good in the husk¹⁴⁸ he is no longer able to say anything else. For on the other hand lie strongly maintains this, that we ought not to admire nor to accept any thing which is detached from the nature of good; and he is right in maintaining this. How then are we [suspicious],¹⁴⁹ if we have no natural affection to our children? Why do you advise the wise man not to bring up children? Why are you afraid that he may thus fall into trouble? For does he fall into trouble on account of the mouse which is nurtured in the house? What does he care if a little mouse in the house makes lamentation to him? But Epicurus knows that if once a child is born, it is no longer in our power not to love it nor care about it. For this reason, Epicurus says, that a man who has any sense also does not engage in political matters; for he knows what a man must do who is engaged in such things; for indeed, if you intend to behave among men as you would among a swarm of flies, what hinders you? But Epicurus, who knows this, ventures to say that we should not bring up children. But a sheep does not desert its own offspring, nor yet a wolf; and shall a man desert his child? What do you mean? that we should be as silly as sheep? but not even do they desert their offspring: or as savage as wolves, but not even do wolves desert their young. Well, who would follow your advice, if he saw his child weeping after falling on the ground? For my part I think that even if your mother and your father had been told by an oracle, that you would say what you have said, they would not have cast you away.

How we should struggle with circumstances.

IT is circumstances (difficulties) which show what men are.¹⁵⁰ Therefore when a difficulty falls upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched you with a rough young man. For what purpose? you may say. Why that you may become an Olympic conqueror; but it is not accomplished without sweat. In my opinion no man has had a more profitable difficulty than you have had, if you choose to make use of it as an athlete would deal with a young antagonist. We are now sending a scout to Rome ;¹⁵¹ but no man sends a cowardly scout, who, if he only hears a noise and sees a shadow any where, comes running back in terror and reports that the enemy is close at hand. So now if you should come and tell us, Fearful is the state of affairs at Rome , terrible is death, terrible is exile; terrible is calumny; terrible is poverty; fly, my friends; the enemy is near—we shall answer, Be gone, prophesy for yourself; we have committed only one fault, that we sent such a scout.

Diogenes,¹⁵² who was sent as a scout before you, made a different report to us. He says that death is no evil, for neither is it base: he says that fame (reputation) is the noise of madmen. And what has this spy said about pain, about pleasure, and about poverty? He says that to be naked is better than any purple robe, and to sleep on the bare ground is the softest bed; and he gives as a proof of each thing that he affirms his own courage, his tranquillity, his freedom, and the healthy appearance and compactness of his body. There is no enemy near, he says; all is peace. How so, Diogenes? See, he replies, if I am struck, if I have been wounded, if I have fled from any man. This is what a scout ought to be. But you come to us and tell us one thing after another. Will you not go back, and you will see clearer when you have laid aside fear?

What then shall I do? What do you do when you leave a ship? Do you take away the helm or the oars? What then do you take away? You take what is your own, your bottle and your wallet; and now if you think of what is your own, you will never claim what belongs to others. The emperor (Domitian) says, Lay aside your laticlave.¹⁵³ See, I put on the angusticlave. Lay aside this also. See, I have only my toga. Lay aside your toga. See, I am now naked. But you still raise my envy. Take then all my poor body; when, at a man’s command, I can throw away my poor body, do I still fear him?

But a certain person will not leave to me the succession to his estate. What then? had I forgotten that not one of these things was mine. How then do we call them mine? Just as we call the bed in the inn. If then the innkeeper at his death leaves you the beds; all well; but if he leaves them to another, he will have them, and you will seek another bed. If then you shall not find one, you will sleep on the ground: only sleep with a good will and snore, and remember that tragedies have their place among the rich and kings and tyrants, but no poor man fills a part in a tragedy, except as one of the Chorus. Kings indeed commence with prosperity: ornament the palace with garlands: then about the third or fourth act they call out, Oh Cithaeron,¹⁵⁴ why didst thou receive me? Slave, where are the crowns, where the diadem? The guards help thee not at all. When then you approach any of these persons, remember this that you are approaching a tragedian, not the actor, but Oedipus himself. But you say, such a man is happy; for he walks about with many, and I also place myself with the many and walk about with many. In sum remember this: the door is open;¹⁵⁵ be not more timid than little children, but as they say, when the thing does not please them, I will play no longer, so do you, when things seem to you of such a kind, say I will no longer play, and be gone: but if you stay, do not complain.

On the same.

IF these things are true, and if we are not silly, and are not acting hypocritically when we say that the good of man is in the will, and the evil too, and that every thing else does not concern us, why are we still disturbed, why are we still afraid? The things about which we have been busied are in no man’s power: and the things which are in the power of others, we care not for. What kind of trouble have we still?

But give me directions. Why should I give you directions? has not Zeus given you directions? Has he not given to you what is your own free from hindrance and free from impediment, and what is not your own subject to hindrance and impediment? What directions then, what kind of orders did you bring when you came from him? Keep by every means what is your own; do not desire what belongs to others. Fidelity (integrity) is your own, virtuous shame is your own; who then can take these things from you? who else than yourself will hinder you from using them? But how do you act? when you seek what is not your own, you lose that which is your own. Having such promptings and commands from Zeus, what kind do you still ask from me? Am I more powerful than he, am I more worthy of confidence? But if you observe these, do you want any others besides? Well, but he has not given these orders, you will say. Produce your praecognitions ( προλήψεις), produce the proofs of philosophers, produce what you have often heard, and produce what you have said yourself, produce what you have read, produce what you have meditated on; and you will then see that all these things are from God.¹⁵⁶ How long then is it fit to observe these precepts from God, and not to break up the play?¹⁵⁷ As long as the play is continued with propriety. In the Saturnalia¹⁵⁸ a king is chosen by lot, for it has been the custom to play at this game. The king commands: Do you drink, Do you mix the wine, Do you sing, Do you go, Do you come. I obey that the game may not be broken up through me.—But if he says, think that you are in evil plight: I answer, I do not think so; and who will compel me to think so? Further, we agreed to play Agamemnon and Achilles. He who is appointed to play Agamemnon says to me, Go to Achilles and tear from him Briseis. I go. He says, Come, and I come.

For as we behave in the matter of hypothetical arguments, so ought we to do in life. Suppose it to be night. I suppose that it is night. Well then; is it day? No, for I admitted the hypothesis that it was night. Suppose that you think that it is night? Suppose that I do. But also think that it is night. That is not consistent with the hypothesis. So in this case also: Suppose that you are unfortunate. Well, suppose so. Are you then unhappy? Yes. Well then are you troubled with an unfavorable daemon (fortune)? Yes. But think also that you are in misery. This is not consistent with the hypothesis; and another (Zeus) forbids me to think so.

How long then must we obey such orders? As long as it is profitable; and this means as long as I maintain that which is becoming and consistent. Further, some men are sour and of bad temper, and they say, I cannot sup with this man to be obliged to hear him telling daily how he fought in Mysia : I told you, brother, how I ascended the hill: then I began to be besieged again. But another says, I prefer to get my supper and to hear him talk as much as he likes. And do you compare these estimates (judgments): only do nothing in a depressed mood, nor as one afflicted, nor as thinking that you are in misery, for no man compels you to that.—Has it smoked in the chamber? If the smoke is moderate, I will stay; if it is excessive, I go out: for you must always remember this and hold it fast, that the door is open.—Well, but you say to me, Do not live in Nicopolis . I will not live there.—Nor in Athens .— I will not live in Athens .—Nor in Rome .—I will not live in Rome .—Live in Gyarus.¹⁵⁹—I will live in Gyarus, but it seems like a great smoke to live in Gyarus; and I depart to the place where no man will hinder me from living, for that dwelling place is open to all; and as to the last garment,¹⁶⁰ that is the poor body, no one has any power over me beyond this. This was the reason why Demetrius¹⁶¹ said to Nero, You threaten me with death, but nature threatens you. If I set my admiration on the poor body, I have given myself up to be a slave: if on my little possessions, I also make myself a slave: for I immediately make it plain with what I may be caught; as if the snake draws in his head, I tell you to strike that part of him which be guards; and do you be assured that whatever part you choose to guard, that part your master will attack. Remembering this whom will you still flatter or fear?

But I should like to sit where the Senators sit.¹⁶²—Do you see that you are putting yourself in straits, you are squeezing yourself.—How then shall I see well in any other way in the amphitheatre? Man, do not be a spectator at all; and you will not be squeezed. Why do you give yourself trouble? Or wait a little, and when the spectacle is over, seat yourself in the place reserved for the Senators and sun yourself. For remember this general truth, that it is we who squeeze ourselves, who put ourselves in straits; that is our opinions squeeze us and put us in straits. For what is it to be reviled? Stand by a stone and revile it; and what will you gain? If then a man listens like a stone, what profit is there to the reviler? But if the reviler has as a stepping-stone (or ladder) the weakness of him who is reviled, then he accomplishes something.—Strip him.—What do you mean by him?¹⁶³— Lay hold of his garment, strip it off. I have insulted you. Much good may it do you.

This was the practice of Socrates: this was the reason why he always had one face. But we choose to practise and study any thing rather than the means by which we shall be unimpeded and free. You say, Philosophers talk paradoxes.¹⁶⁴ But are there no paradoxes in the other arts? and what is more paradoxical than to puncture a man’s eye in order that he may see? If any one said this to a man ignorant of the surgical art, would he not ridicule the speaker? Where is the wonder then if in philosophy also many things which are true appear paradoxical to the inexperienced?

What is the law of life.

WHEN a person was reading hypothetical arguments, Epictetus said, This also is an hypothetical law that we must accept what follows from the hypothesis. But much before this law is the law of life, that we must act conformably to nature. For if in every matter and circumstance we wish to observe what is natural, it is plain that in every thing we ought to make it our aim that neither that which is consequent shall escape us, and that we do not admit the contradictory. First then philosophers exercise us in theory¹⁶⁵(contemplation of things), which is easier; and then next they lead us to the more difficult things; for in theory, there is nothing which draws us away from following what is taught; but in the matters of life, many are the things which distract us. He is ridiculous then who says that he wishes to begin with the matters of real life, for it is not easy to begin with the more difficult things; and we ought to employ this fact as an argument to those parents who are vexed at their children learning philosophy: Am I doing wrong then my father, and do I not know what is suitable to me and becoming? If indeed this can neither be learned nor taught, why do you blame me? but if it can be taught, teach me; and if you can not, allow me to learn from those who say that they know how to teach. For what do you think? do you suppose that I voluntarily fall into evil and miss the good? I hope that it may not be so. What is then the cause of my doing wrong? Ignorance. Do you not choose then that I should get rid of my ignorance? Who was ever taught by anger the art of a pilot or music? Do you think then that by means of your anger I shall learn the art of life? He only is allowed to speak in this way who has shown such an intention.¹⁶⁶ But if a mar. only intending to make a display at a banquet and to show that he is acquainted with hypothetical arguments reads them and attends the philosophers, what other object has he than that some man of senatorian rank who sits by him may admire? For there (at Rome ) are the really great materials (opportunities), and the riches here (at Nicopolis ) appear to be trifles there. This is the reason why it is difficult for a man to be master of the appearances, where the things which disturb the judgment are great.¹⁶⁷ I know a certain person who complained, as he embraced the knees of Epaphroditus, that he had only one hundred and fifty times ten thousand denarii¹⁶⁸ remaining. What then did Epaphroditus do? Did he laugh at him, as we slaves of Epaphroditus did? No, but he cried out with amazement, Poor man, how then did you keep silence, how did you endure it?

When Epictetus had reproved¹⁶⁹(called) the person who was reading the hypothetical arguments, and the teacher who had suggested the reading was laughing at the reader, Epictetus said to the teacher, You are laughing at yourself: you did not prepare the young man nor did you ascertain whether he was able to understand these matters; but perhaps, you are only employing him as a reader. Well then said Epictetus, if a man has not ability enough to understand a complex (syllogism), do we trust him in giving praise, do we trust him in giving blame, do we allow that he is able to form a judgment about good or bad? and if such a man blames any one, does the man care for the blame? and if he praises any one, is the man elated, when in such small matters as an hypothetical syllogism he who praises cannot see what is consequent on the hypothesis?

This then is the beginning of philosophy,¹⁷⁰ a man’s perception of the state of his ruling faculty; for when a man knows that it is weak, then he will not employ it on things of the greatest difficulty. But at present, if men cannot swallow even a morsel, they buy whole volumes and attempt to devour them; and this is the reason why they vomit them up or suffer indigestion: and then come gripings, defluxes, and fevers.¹⁷¹ Such men ought to consider what their ability is. In theory it is easy to convince an ignorant person; but in the affairs of real life no one offers himself to be convinced, and we hate the man who has convinced us. But Socrates advised us not to live a life which is not subjected to examination.¹⁷²

In how many ways appearances exist, and what aids we should provide against them.

APPEARANCES are to us in four ways: for either things appear as they are; or they are not, and do not even appear to be; or they are, and do not appear to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Further, in all these cases to form a right judgment (to hit the mark) is the office of an educated man. But whatever it is that annoys (troubles) us, to that we ought to apply a remedy. If the sophisms of Pyrrho¹⁷³ and of the Academics are what annoys (troubles), we must apply the remedy to them. If it is the persuasion of appearances, by which some things appear to be good, when they are not good, let us seek a remedy for this. If it is habit which annoys us, we must try to seek aid against habit. What aid then can we find against habit? The contrary habit. You hear the ignorant say: That unfortunate person is dead: his father and mother are overpowered with sorrow;¹⁷⁴ he was cut off by an untimely death and in a foreign land. Hear the contrary way of speaking: Tear yourself from these expressions: oppose to one habit the contrary habit; to sophistry oppose reason, and the exercise and discipline of reason; against persuasive (deceitful) appearances we ought to have manifest praecognitions ( προλήψεις) cleared of all impurities and ready to hand.

When death appears an evil, we ought to have this rule in readiness, that it is fit to avoid evil things, and that death is a necessary thing. For what shall I do, and where shall I escape it? Suppose that I am not Sarpedon,¹⁷⁵ the son of Zeus, nor able to speak in this noble way: I will go and I am resolved either to behave bravely myself or to give to another the opportunity of doing so; if I cannot succeed in doing any thing myself, I will not grudge another the doing of something noble.—Suppose that it is above our power to act thus; is it not in our power to reason thus? Tell me where I can escape death: discover for me the country, show me the men to whom I must go, whom death does not visit. Discover to me a charm against death. If I have not one, what do you wish me to do? I cannot escape from death. Shall I not escape from the fear of death, but shall I die lamenting and trembling? For the origin of perturbation is this, to wish for something, and that this should not happen. Therefore if I am able to change externals according to my wish, I change them; but if I can not, I am ready to tear out the eyes of him who hinders me. For the nature of man is not to endure to be deprived of the good, and not to endure the falling into the evil. Then at last, when I am neither able to change circumstances nor to tear out the eyes of him who hinders me, I sit down and groan, and abuse whom I can, Zeus and the rest of the gods. For if they do not care for me, what are they to me?—Yes, but you will be an impious man.—In what respect then will it be worse for me than it is now?—To sum up, remember this that unless piety and your interest be in the same thing, piety cannot be maintained in any man. Do not these things seem necessary (true)?

Let the followers of Pyrrho and the Academics come and make their objections. For I, as to my part, have no leisure for these disputes, nor am I able to undertake the defence of common consent (opinion).¹⁷⁶ If I had a suit even about a bit of land, I would call in another to defend my interests. With what evidence then am I satisfied? With that which belongs to the matter in hand.¹⁷⁷ How indeed perception is effected, whether through the whole body or any part, perhaps I cannot explain: for both opinions perplex me. But that you and I are not the same, I know with perfect certainty. How do you know it? When I intend to swallow any thing, I never carry it to your mouth, but to my own. When I intend to take bread, I never lay hold of a broom, but I always go to the bread as to a mark.¹⁷⁸ And you yourselves (the Pyrrhonists), who take away the evidence of the senses, do you act otherwise? Who among you, when he intended to enter a bath, ever went into a mill?

What then? Ought we not with all our power to hold to this also, the maintaining of general opinion,¹⁷⁹ and fortifying ourselves against the arguments which are directed against it? Who denies that we ought to do this? Well, he should do it who is able, who has leisure for it; but as to him who trembles and is perturbed and is inwardly broken in heart (spirit), he must employ his time better on something else.

That we ought not to be angry with men; and what are the small and the great things among men.

¹⁸⁰

WHAT is the cause of assenting to any thing? The fact that it appears to be true. It is not possible then to assent to that which appears not to be true. Why? Because this is the nature of the understanding, to incline to the true, to be dissatisfied with the false, and in matters uncertain to withhold assent. What is the proof of this? Imagine (persuade yourself), if you can, that it is now night. It is not possible. Take away your persuasion that it is day. It is not possible. Persuade yourself or take away your persuasion that the stars are even in number.¹⁸¹ It is impossible. When then any man assents to that which is false, be assured that he did not intend to assent to it as false, for every soul is unwillingly deprived of the truth, as Plato says; but the falsity seemed to him to be true. Well, in acts what have we of the like kind as we have here truth or falsehood? We have the fit and the not fit (duty and not duty), the profitable and the unprofitable, that which is suitable to a person and that which is not, and whatever is like these. Can then a man think that a thing is useful to him and not choose it? He cannot. How says Medea?¹⁸²—

Tis true I know what evil I shall do,

But passion overpowers the better counsel.

She thought that to indulge her passion and take vengeance on her husband was more profitable than to spare her children. It was so; but she was deceived. Show her plainly that she is deceived, and she will not do it; but so long as you do not show it, what can she follow except that which appears to herself (her opinion)? Nothing else. Why then are you angry with the unhappy woman that she has been bewildered about the most important things, and is become a viper instead of human creature? And why not, if it is possible, rather pity, as we pity the blind and the lame, so those who are blinded and maimed in the faculties which are supreme?

Whoever then clearly remembers this, that to man the measure of every act is the appearance (the opinion),— whether the thing appears good or bad: if good, he is free from blame; if bad, himself suffers the penalty, for it is impossible that he who is deceived can be one person, and he who suffers another person—whoever remembers this will not be angry with any man, will not be vexed at any man, will not revile or blame any man, nor hate nor quarrel with any man.

So then all these great and dreadful deeds have this origin, in the appearance (opinion)? Yes, this origin and no other. The Iliad is nothing else than appearance and the use of appearances. It appeared¹⁸³ to Alexander to carry off the wife of Menelaus: it appeared to Helene to follow him. If then it had appeared to Menelaus to feel that it was a gain to be deprived of such a wife, what would have happened? Not only would the Iliad have been lost, but the Odyssey also. On so small a matter then did such great things depend? But what do you mean by such great things? Wars and civil commotions, and the destruction of many men and cities. And what great matter is this? Is it nothing?—But what great matter is the death of many oxen, and many sheep, and many nests of swallows or storks being burnt or destroyed? Are these things then like those? Very like. Bodies of men are destroyed, and the bodies of oxen and sheep; the dwellings of men are burnt, and the nests of storks. What is there in this great or dreadful? Or show me what is the difference between a man’s house and a stork’s nest, as far as each is a dwelling; except that man builds his little houses of beams and tiles and bricks, and the stork builds them of sticks and mud. Are a stork and a man then like things? What say you?—In body they are very much alike.

Does a man then differ in no respect from a stork? Don’t suppose that I say so; but there is no difference in these matters (which I have mentioned). In what then is the difference? Seek and you will find that there is a difference in another matter. See whether it is not in a man the understanding of what he does, see if it is not in social community, in fidelity, in modesty, in steadfastness, in intelligence. Where then is the great good and evil in men? It is where the difference is. If the difference is preserved and remains fenced round, and neither modesty is destroyed, nor fidelity, nor intelligence, then the man also is preserved; but if any of these things is destroyed and stormed like a city, then the man too perishes; and in this consist the great things. Alexander, you say, sustained great damage then when the Hellenes invaded and when they ravaged Troy , and when his brothers perished. By no means; for no man is damaged by an action which is not his own; but what happened at that time was only the destruction of storks’ nests: now the ruin of Alexander was when he lost the character of modesty, fidelity, regard to hospitality, and to decency. When was Achilles ruined? Was it when Patroclus died? Not so. But it happened when he began to be angry, when he wept for a girl, when he forgot that he was at Troy not to get mistresses, but to fight. These things are the ruin of men, this is being besieged, this is the destruction of cities, when right opinions are destroyed, when they are corrupted.

When then women are carried off, when children are made captives, and when the men are killed, are these not evils? How is it then that you add to the facts these opinions? Explain this to me also.—I shall not do that; but how is it that you say that these are not evils?—Let us come to the rules: produce the praecognitions ( προλήψεις): for it is because this is neglected that we can not sufficiently wonder at what men do. When we intend to judge of weights, we do not judge by guess: where we intend to judge of straight and crooked, we do not judge by guess. In all cases where it is our interest to know what is true in any matter, never will any man among us do anything by guess. But in things which depend on the first and on the only cause of doing right or wrong, of happiness or unhappiness, of being unfortunate or fortunate, there only we are inconsiderate and rash. There is then nothing like scales (balance), nothing like a rule: but some appearance is presented, and straightway I act according to it. Must I then suppose that I am superior to Achilles or Agamemnon, so that they by following appearances do and suffer so many evils: and shall not the appearance be sufficient for me?¹⁸⁴—And what tragedy has any other beginning? The Atreus of Euripides, what is it? An appearance.¹⁸⁵ The Oedipus of Sophocles, what is it? An appearance. The Phoenix? An appearance. The Hippolytus? An appearance. What kind of a man then do you suppose him to be who pays no regard to this matter? And what is the name of those who follow every appearance? They are called madmen. Do we then act at all differently?

On constancy (or firmness).

THE being¹⁸⁶ (nature) of the Good is a certain Will; the being of the Bad is a certain kind of Will. What then are externals? Materials for the Will, about which the will being conversant shall obtain its own good or evil. How shall it obtain the good. If it does not admire¹⁸⁷ (overvalue) the materials; for the opinions about the materials, if the opinions are right, make the will good: but perverse and distorted opinions make the will bad. God has fixed this law, and says, If you would have any thing good, receive it from yourself. You say, No, but I will have it from another.—Do not so: but receive it from yourself. Therefore when the tyrant threatens and calls me, I say, Whom do you threaten? If he says, I will put you in chains, I say, You threaten my hands and my feet. If he says, I will cut off your head, I reply, You threaten my head. If he says, I will throw you into prison, I say, You threaten the whole of this poor body. If he threatens me with banishment, I say the same. Does he then not threaten you at all? If I feel that all these things do not concern me, he does not threaten me at all; but if I fear any of them, it is I whom he threatens. Whom then do I fear? the master of what? The master of things which are in my own power? There is no such master. Do I fear the master of things which are not in my power? And what are these things to me?

Do you philosophers then teach us to despise kings? I hope not. Who among us teaches to claim against them the power over things which they possess? Take my poor body, take my property, take my reputation, take those who are about me. If I advise any persons to claim these things, they may truly accuse me.—Yes, but I intend to command your opinions also.—And who has given you this power? How can you conquer the opinion of another man? By applying terror to it, he replies, I will conquer it. Do you not know that opinion conquers itself,¹⁸⁸ and is not conquered by another? But nothing else can conquer Will except the Will itself. For this reason too the law of God is most powerful and most just, which is this: Let the stronger always be superior to the weaker. Ten are stronger than one. For what? For putting in chains, for killing, for dragging whither they choose, for taking away what a man has. The ten therefore conquer the one in this in which they are stronger. In what then are the ten weaker? If the one possesses right opinions and the others do not. Well then, can the ten conquer in this matter? How is it possible? If we were placed in the scales, must not the heavier draw down the scale in which it is.

How strange then that Socrates should have been so treated by the Athenians. Slave, why do you say Socrates? Speak of the thing as it is: how strange that the poor body of Socrates should have been carried off and dragged to prison by stronger men, and that any one should have given hemlock to the poor body of Socrates, and that it should breathe out the life. Do these things seem strange, do they seem unjust, do you on account of these things blame God? Had Socrates then no equivalent for these things? Where then for him was the nature of good? Whom shall we listen to, you or him? And what does Socrates say? Anytus and Melitus¹⁸⁹ can kill me, but they cannot hurt me: and further, he says, If it so pleases God, so let it be.

But show me that he who has the inferior principles overpowers him who is superior in principles. You will never show this, nor come near showing it; for this is the law of nature and of God that the superior shall always overpower the inferior. In what? In that in which it is superior. One body is stronger than another: many are stronger than one: the thief is stronger than he who is not a thief. This is the reason why I also lost my lamp,¹⁹⁰ because in wakefulness the thief was superior to me. But the man bought the lamp at this price: for a lamp he became a thief, a faithless fellow, and like a wild beast. This seemed to him a good bargain. Be it so. But a man has seized me by the cloak, and is drawing me to the public place: then others bawl out, Philosopher, what has been the use of your opinions? see you are dragged to prison, you are going to be beheaded. And what system of philosophy ( εἰσαγωγήν) could I have made so that, if a stronger man should have laid hold of my cloak, I should not be dragged off; that if ten men should have laid hold of me and cast me into prison, I should not be cast in? Have I learned nothing else then? I have learned to see that every thing which happens, if it be independent of my will, is nothing to me. I may ask, if you have not gained by this.¹⁹¹ Why then do you seek advantage in any thing else than in that in which you have learned that advantage is?

Then sitting in prison I say: The man who cries out in this way¹⁹² neither hears what words mean, nor understands what is said, nor does he care at all to know what philosophers say or what they do. Let him alone.

But now he says to the prisoner, Come out from your prison.—If you have no further need of me in prison, I come out: if you should have need of me again, I will enter the prison.—How long will you act thus?—So long as reason requires me to be with the body: but when reason does not require this, take away the body, and fare you well.¹⁹³ Only we must not do it inconsiderately, nor weakly, nor for any slight reason; for, on the other hand, God does not wish it to be done, and he has need of such a world and such inhabitants in it.¹⁹⁴ But if he sounds the signal for retreat, as he did to Socrates, we must obey him who gives the signal, as if he were a general.¹⁹⁵

Well then, ought we to say such things to the many? Why should we? Is it not enough for a man to be persuaded himself? When children come clapping their hands and crying out, To-day is the good Saturnalia,¹⁹⁶ do we say, The Saturnalia are not good? By no means, but we clap our hands also. Do you also then, when you are not able to make a man change his mind, be assured that he is a child, and clap your hands with him; and if you do not choose¹⁹⁷ to do this, keep silent.

A man must keep this in mind; and when he is called to any such difficulty, he should know that the time is come for showing if he has been instructed. For he who is come into a difficulty is like a young man from a school who has practised the resolution of syllogisms; and if any person proposes to him an easy syllogism, he says, rather propose to me a syllogism which is skilfully complicated that I may exercise myself on it. Even athletes are dissatisfied with slight young men, and say, He cannot lift me.— This is a youth of noble disposition.¹⁹⁸[You do not so]; but when the time of trial is come, one of you must weep and say, I wish that I had learned more. A little more of what? If you did not learn these things in order to show them in practice, why did you learn them I think that there is some one among you who are sitting here, who is suffering like a woman in labour, and saying, Oh, that such a difficulty does not present itself to me as that which has come to this man; oh, that I should be wasting my life in a corner, when I might be crowned at Olympia . When will any one announce to me such a contest? Such ought to be the disposition of all of you. Even among the gladiators of Caesar (the Emperor) there are some who complain grievously that they are not brought forward and matched, and they offer up prayers to God and address themselves to their superintendents intreating that they may fight.¹⁹⁹ And will no one among you show himself such? I would willingly take a voyage [to Rome ] for this purpose and see what my athlete is doing, how he is studying his subject.²⁰⁰—I do not choose such a subject, he says. Why, is it in your power to take what subject you choose? There has been given to you such a body as you have, such parents, such brethren, such a country, such a place in your country: —then you come to me and say, Change my subject. Have you not abilities which enable you to manage the subject which has been given to you? [You ought to say]: It is your business to propose; it is mine to exercise myself well. However, you do not say so, but you say, Do not propose to me such a tropic,²⁰¹ but such [as I would choose]: do not urge against me such an objection, but such [as I would choose]. There will be a time perhaps when tragic actors will suppose that they are [only] masks and buskins and the long cloak.²⁰² I say, these things, man, are your material and subject. Utter something that we may know whether you are a tragic actor or a buffoon; for both of you have all the rest in common. If any one then should take away the tragic actor’s buskins and his mask, and introduce him on the stage as a phantom, is the tragic actor lost, or does he still remain? If he has voice, he still remains.

An example of another kind. Assume the governorship of a province. I assume it, and when I have assumed it, I show how an instructed man behaves. Lay aside the laticlave (the mark of senatorial rank), and clothing yourself in rags, come forward in this character. What then have I not the power of displaying a good voice (that is, of doing something that I ought to do)? How then do you now appear (on the stage of life)? As a witness summoned by God. Come forward,²⁰³ you, and bear testimony for me, for you are worthy to be brought forward as a witness by me: is any thing external to the will good or bad? do I hurt any man? have I made every man’s interest dependent on any man except himself? What testimony do you give for God?—I am in a wretched condition, Master²⁰⁴ (Lord), and I am unfortunate; no man cares for me, no man gives me anything; all blame me, all steak ill of me.—Is this the evidence that you are going to give, and disgrace his summons, who has conferred so much honour on you, and thought you worthy of being called to bear such testimony?

But suppose that he who has the power has declared, I judge you to be impious and profane. What has happened to you? I have been judged to be impious and profane? Nothing else? Nothing else. But if the same person had, passed judgment on an hypothetical syllogism ( συνημμένου), and had made a declaration, the conclusion that, if it is day, it is light, I declare to be false, what has happened to the hypothetical syllogism? who is judged in this case? who has been condemned? the hypothetical syllogism, or the man who has been deceived by it? Does he then who has the power of making any declaration about you know what is pious or impious? Has he studied it, and has he learned it? Where? From whom? Then is it the fact that a musician pays no regard to him who declares that the lowest²⁰⁵ chord in the lyre is the highest; nor yet a geometrician, if he declares that the lines from the centre of a circle to the circumference are not equal; and shall he who is really instructed pay any regard to the uninstructed man when he pronounces judgment on what is pious and what is impious, on what is just and unjust? Oh, the signal wrong done by the instructed. Did they learn this here?²⁰⁶

Will you not leave the small arguments ( λογάρια)²⁰⁷ about these matters to others, to lazy fellows, that they may sit in a corner and receive their sorry pay, or grumble that no one gives them any thing; and will you not come forward and make use of what you have learned? For it is not these small arguments that are wanted now: the writings of the Stoics are full of them. What then is the thing which is wanted? A man who shall apply them, one who by his acts shall bear testimony to his words.²⁰⁸ Assume, I intreat you, this character, that we may no longer use in the schools the examples of the antients, but may have some example of our own.

To whom then does the contemplation of these matters (philosophical inquiries) belong? To him who has leisure, for man is an animal that loves contemplation. But it is shameful to contemplate these things as runaway slaves do: we should sit, as in a theatre, free from distraction, and listen at one time to the tragic actor, at another time to the lute-player; and not do as slaves do. As soon as the slave has taken his station he praises the actor²⁰⁹ and at the same time looks round: then if any one calls out his master’s name, the slave is immediately frightened and disturbed. It is shameful for philosophers thus to contemplate the works of nature. For what is a master? Man is not the master of man; but death is, and life and pleasure and pain; for if he comes without these things, bring Caesar to me and you will see how firm I am.²¹⁰ But when he shall come with these things, thundering and lightning,²¹¹ and when I am afraid of them, what do I do then except to recognize my master like the runaway slave? But so long as I have any respite from these terrors, as a runaway slave stands in the theatre, so do I: I bathe, I drink, I sing; but all this I do with terror and uneasiness. But if I shall release myself from my masters, that is from those things by means of which masters are formidable, what further trouble have I, what master have I still?

What then, ought we to publish these things to all men? No, but we ought to accommodate ourselves to the ignorant²¹² ( τοῖς ἰδιώταις) and to say: This man recommends to me that which he thinks good for himself: I excuse him. For Socrates also excused the jailor, who had the charge of him in prison and was weeping when Socrates was going to drink the poison, and said, How generously he laments over us.²¹³ Does he then say to the jailor that for this reason we have sent away the women? No, but he says it to his friends who were able to hear (understand) it; and he treats the jailor as a child.

What we ought to have ready in difficult circumstances.

²¹⁴

WHEN you are going in to any great personage, remember that another also from above sees what is going on, and that you ought to please him rather than the other. He then who sees from above asks you: In the schools what used you to say about exile and bonds and death and disgrace? I used to say that they are things indifferent (neither good nor bad). What then do you say of them now? Are they changed at all? No. Are you changed then? No. Tell me then what things are indifferent? The things which are independent of the will. Tell me, also, what follows from this. The things which are independent of the will are nothing to me. Tell me also about the Good, what was your opinion? A will such as we ought to have and also such a use of appearances. And the end (purpose), what is it? To follow thee. Do you say this now also? I say the same now also.

Then go in to the great personage boldly and remember these things; and you will see what a youth is who has studied these things when he is among men who have not studied them. I indeed imagine that you will have such thoughts as these: Why do we make so great and so many preparations for nothing? Is this the thing which men name power? Is this the antechamber? this the men of the bedchamber? this the armed guards? Is it for this that I listened to so many discourses? All this is nothing: but I have been preparing myself as for something great.

Notes on the current edition

Discourses

1. The word ( φαντασία) here translated the appearances of things, will sometimes be found rendered, in other passages, the phenomena of existence, and sometimes things as they appear. It was a favorite word with the Stoics, and can be adequately translated by no single English word, or even phrase,—implying as it does not merely the uncertainty of all impressions, but the unimportance of the emotions they involved. Fortunately for translators, Epictetus cared very little for metaphysical subtilties, and very much for his few and simple ethical principles; so that it is rarely difficult to make his meaning clear.—H.

2. Plautius Lateranus, a consul elect, was put to death by the command of Nero, for being privy to the conspiracy of Piso. His execution was so sudden that he was not permitted to take leave of his wife and children, but was hurried into a place appropriated to the punishment of slaves, and there killed by the hand of the tribune Statius. He suffered in obstinate silence, and without making any reproach to Statius, who was concerned in the same plot for which he himself was punished. Tacitus, Ann. 15.60 .—C.

3. Epaphroditus was the master of requests and freedman of Nero, and the master of Epictetus. He assisted Nero in killing himself, for which he was condemned to death by Domitian. Suetonius in Vita Neronis, 49 ; Domit. c. 14 .—C.

4. Thraseas Pastus, a Stoic philosopher put to death by Nero. Hie was husband of Arria, so well known by that beautiful epigram in Martial. The expression of Tacitus concerning him is remarkable:

After the murder of so many excellent persons, Nero at last formed a desire of cutting off virtue itself, by the execution of Thraseas Paetus and Bareas Soranus.

Ann. 16.21. —C.

5. Rufus was a Tuscan , of the equestrian order, and a Stoic philosopher. When Vespasian banished the other philosophers, Rufus was alone excepted.—C.

Agrippinus was banished by Nero, for no other crime than the unfortunate death of his father, who had been causelessly killed by the command of Tiberius; and this had furnished a pretence for accusing him of hereditary disloyalty.

Tacitus, Ann. 10.1 c. 28, 29.—C.

7. Aricia, a town about sixteen miles from Rome , the first stage in his road to banishment.—C.

8. The Spartans, to make a trial of the fortitude of their children, used to have them publicly whipped at the altar of Artemis; and often with so much severity that they expired. The boys supported this exercise with so much constancy as never to cry out, nor even groan.—C.

Nero was remarkably fond of theatrical entertainments, and used to introduce upon the stage the descendants of noble families, whom want had rendered venal.

Tacitus, Ann. 14. c. 14. —C.

10. An allusion to the purple border which distinguished the dress of the Roman nobility.—C.

11.

Helvidius Priscus was no less remarkable for his learning and philosophy than for the sanctity of his manners and the love of his country. He behaved, however, with too much haughtiness on several occasions, to Vespasian, who sentenced him to death with great reluctance, and even forbade the execution when it was too late.

Sueton. in Vesp. 15. —C.

12. Bato was a famous master of the Olympic exercises.—C.

13. Domitian ordered all the philosophers to be banished. To avoid this inconvenience, those who had a mind to disguise their profession, took off their beards.—C.

14. Chrysippus was regarded as the highest authority among the later Stoics; but not one of his seven hundred volumes bas come down to posterity.—H.

15. Triptolemus was said to have introduced agriculture and vegetable food among men, under the guidance of Demeter.—H.

16. The New Academy denied the existence of any universal truths.—H.

17. This is a disputed passage, and something is probably lost.—H.

18. Xenophon, Mem. 1.1 ; Homer, Iliad, 10.278. —H.

19. Sophocles, Oedipus Tyrannus, 1391. —H.

20. An island in the Aegean Sea , to which the Romans used to banish criminals.—C.

21. This passage is omitted as inexplicable by Mrs. Carter. Schweighaeuser says,

Tentare interpretationem possum; praestare non possum.

A passage just below I also have omitted, as the text is admitted to be in a hopeless state.—H.

22. Plato, Apologia, i. 28. —H.

23. Imitated from Iliad, 12. 328 .—H.

24. This is not a literal quotation from Plato, but similar passages are to be found in his Laws, 9. 5; Sophist, 29; Protagoras, 87, etc.—H.

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Of the things which are, and the things which are not in our own power.

In what manner, upon every occasion, to preserve our character.

How, from the doctrine that god is the father of mankind, we may proceed to its consequences.

Of progress.

Concerning the academics. 16

Of providence.

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Concerning those who seek preferment at Rome .

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On the same subject.

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Weapons ready for difficult occasions.

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περὶ τῶν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν καὶ οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν.

πῶς ἄν τις σῴζοι τὸ κατὰ πρόσωπον ἐν παντί.

πῶς ἄν τις ἀπὸ τοῦ τὸν θεὸν πατέρα εἶναι τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἐπὶ τὰ ἑξῆς ἐπέλθοι.

περὶ προκοπῆς.

πρὸς τοὺς Ἀκαδημαικούς.

περὶ προνοίας.

περὶ τῆς χρείας τῶν μεταπιπτόντων καὶ ὑποθετικῶν καὶ τῶν ὁμοίων.

ὅτι αἱ δυνάμεις τοῖς ἀπαιδεύτοις οὐκ ἀσφαλεῖς.

πῶς ἀπὸ τοῦ συγγενεῖς ἡμᾶς εἶναι τῷ θεῷ ἐπέλθοι ἄν τις ἐπὶ τὰ ἑξῆς.

πρὸς τοὺς περὶ τὰς ἐν Ῥώμῃ προαγωγὰς ἐσπουδακότας.

περὶ φιλοστοργίας.

περὶ εὐαρεστήσεως.

πῶς ἕκαστα ἔστιν ποιεῖν ἀρεστῶς θεοῖς.

ὅτι πάντας ἐφορᾷ τὸ θεῖον.

τί ἐπαγγέλλεται φιλοσοφία.

περὶ προνοίας.

ὅτι ἀναγκαῖα τὰ λογικά.

ὅτι οὐ δεῖ χαλεπαίνειν τοῖς ἁμαρτανομένοις.

πῶς ἔχειν δεῖ πρὸς τοὺς τυράννους.

περὶ τοῦ λόγου πῶς αὑτοῦ θεωρητικός ἐστιν.

πρὸς τοὺς θαυμάζεσθαι θέλοντας.

περὶ τῶν προλήψεων.

πρὸς Ἐπίκουρον.

πῶς πρὸς τὰς περιστάσεις ἀγωνιστέον.

πρὸς τὸ αὐτό.

τίς ὁ βιωτικὸς νόμος.

ποσαχῶς αἱ φαντασίαι γίνονται καὶ τίνα πρόχειρα πρὸς αὐτὰς βοηθήματα παρασκευαστέον.

ὅτι οὐ δεῖ χαλεπαίνειν ἀνθρώποις καὶ τίνα τὰ μικρὰ καὶ μεγάλα ἐν ἀνθρώποις.

περὶ εὐσταθείας.

τί δεῖ πρόχειρον ἔχειν ἐν ταῖς περιστάσεσιν.

Of the things which are in our power, and not in our power.

How a man on every occasion can maintain his proper character.

How a man should proceed from the principle of god being the father of all men to the rest.

Of progress or improvement.

Against the academics.

Of Providence.

Of the use of sophistical arguments and hypothetical and the like.

That the faculties 56 are not safe to the uninstructed

How from the fact that we are akin to God a man may proceed to the consequences.

Against those who eagerly seek preferment at Rome .

Of natural affection.

Of contentment.

How everything may be done acceptably to the gods.

That the deity oversees all things.

What philosophy promises.

Of Providence.

That the logical art is necessary.

Concerning the academics.¹⁶

That the faculties⁵⁶ are not safe to the uninstructed