EPICTETUS
« » «
THE
DISCOURSES AND MANUAL
TOGETHER WITH
FRAGMENTS OF HIS WRITINGS
TRANSLATED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES
BY
P. E. MATHESON, M.A.
FELLOW AND TUTOR OF NEW COLLEGE
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL I -
W*
OXFORD J
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
1916
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK
TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY
HUMPHREY MILFORD M.A.
PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY
5(30
v.
546-24 I
PREFACE
THE Manual of Epictetus is well known, but
the Discourses have been less widely read than they
deserve to be, and it is hoped that this translation
may bring them some new readers. It is based on the
text edited by Dr. H. Schenkl (Teubner, 1894), an<^
the chief divergences from the text are mentioned
in the notes. I am much indebted to this book and
to the monumental edition of Schweighaeuser (i 799),
as well as to the works of Bonhoffer mentioned
on p. 10.
It must be remembered that the Discourses as we
have them are notes taken by Arrian of the lectures
of his master, and therefore have not the finished
form of a work of literary art. It is hoped that the
running summary printed beside the text may
enable the reader to follow the argument more
easily. The style of the Discourses is colloquial and
a large part is in the form of dialogue. Where the
speaker is not Epictetus the words are printed
within commas, so as to indicate the change of
person. In a few places words have been added to
complete the sense. These are put within square
brackets.
I wish to thank those who have helped me, and
especially my old Head Master and friend of forty
years, Dr. Edwin Abbott, at whose suggestion this
translation was undertaken, and to whom I owe
4 Preface
much on this and many other occasions, and my
colleague Mr. Edwyn Bevan, who has been kind
enough to read the proofs, and has made many
valuable suggestions. If I have failed, the fault
is not theirs. Other friends have advised me on
particular points and given me their encouragement
on my way. I wish to thank them, and also the
staff of the Press for the trouble they have taken
in printing this book at a difficult time.
When the doctrine that ' might is right ' is being
once more asserted by the armed forces of absolutism
it may not be inopportune to recall to men's minds
the words of one who preached unceasingly the
supremacy and independence of the spirit of man.
P. E. MATHESON.
NEW COLLEGE.
CONTENTS
VOLUME I
INTRODUCTION
PAGE
EPICTEFUS AND HIS AGE . . . . .11
EPICTETUS AND STOICISM ..... 16
PSYCHOLOGY OF EPICTETUS ..... 27
ETHICAL PRINCIPLES ...... 33
DISCOURSES
BOOK I
CHAP.
1. On things in our power and things not in our
power . ....... 43
2. How one may be true to one's character in every
thing . . 47
3. What conclusions may be drawn from the fact that
God is Father of men ..... 52
4. On progress, or moral advance .... 53
5. Against followers of the Academy ... 57
6 On Providence ....... 59
7. On the use of variable premisses and hypothetical
arguments and the like ..... 64
8. That faculties are fraught with danger for the un
educated ....... 68
9. How one may draw conclusions from the fact that
we are God's kinsmen ..... 70
10. To those who have spent their energies on advance
ment in Rome . ..... 74
11. On family affection ...... 76
6 Discourses of Epictetus
CHAP. PAGE
12. On contentment ...... 82
13. How one may act in all things so as to please the gods 87
14. That God beholds all men ... 88
15. What philosophy professes ..... 90
1 6. On Providence . . . . . . 91
17. That the processes of logic are necessary . . 94
1 8. That we should not be angry at men's errors . 98
19. How one should behave towards tyrants . . 101
20. How reason has the faculty of taking cognizance of
itself ........ 105
21. To those who wish to be admired . . .108
22. On primary conceptions ..... 108
23. Against Epicurus . . . . . .Ill
24. How one should contend against difficulties . 113
25. On the same theme . . . . , .116
26. What is the law of life . . . . .120
27. On the ways in which impressions come to us, and
the aids we must provide for ourselves to deal
with them . . . . . . .123
28. That we must not be angry with men : and con
cerning what things are small and what are great
among men ....... 126
29. On constancy . . . . . . 131
30. What a man should have ready to hand in the
crises of life ....... 140
BOOK II
1. That there is no conflict between confidence and
caution ........ 142
2. On peace of mind ...... 148
3. To those who commend persons to philosophers . 151
4. To the man caught in adultery . . . .152
5. How a careful life is compatible with a noble spirit 154
Contents
CHAP. PAGE
6. On what is meant by 'indifferent' things . .158
7. How to consult diviners . . • .162
8. What is the true nature of the good . . .164
9. That we adopt the profession of the philosopher
when we cannot fulfil that of a man . .168
10. How the acts appropriate to man are to be dis
covered from the names he bears . . • I7I
u. What is the beginning of Philosophy . . '75
12. On the art of discussion . 179
-O-
13. Concerning anxiety .....
14. On Naso ... .187
15. On those who cling stubbornly to their judgements 191
16. That we do not practise applying our judgements
about things good and evil .... 194
17. How we must adjust our primary conceptions to
particular things . .... 201
1 8. How we must struggle against impressions . . 206
19. To those who take up the principles of the philo
sophers only to discuss them .... 210
20. Against followers of Epicurus and of the Academy . 216
21. Concerning inconsistency of mind . • 222
22. On Friendship ....••• 2Z^
23. On the faculty of expression .... 232
24. To one whom he did not think worthy . .239
25. How the art of reasoning is necessary . 244
26. What is the distinctive character of error . . 244
VOLUME II
BOOK III
1. On Adornment . . 3
2. (i) In what matters should the man who is to
make progress train himself IO
(2) That we neglect what is most vital . . 10
8 Discourses of Epictetus
CHAP. PAGE
3. What is the material with which the good man deals,
and what should be the object of our training . 14
4. Against one who was indecorously excited in the
theatre . . . . . . . .17
5. Against those who make illness an excuse for
leaving the lecture-room . . . -19
6. Scattered sayings ...... 22
7. Dialogue with the Commissioner of the Free
Cities, who was an Epicurean . . . 23
8. How we should train ourselves to deal with impres
sions ........ 29
9. To a Rhetor going up to Rome for a trial . 30
10. How one should bear illnesses .... 34
n. Scattered sayings ...... 37
12. On training ....... 38
13. What a 'forlorn' condition means, and a 'forlorn'
man 40
14. Scattered sayings ...... 44
15. That we should approach everything with con
sideration ....... 46
16. That we must be cautious in our social relations 48
17. Concerning Providence ..... 50
18. That we must not allow news to disturb us . 51
19. What is the difference between the philosopher
and the uneducated man .... 53
20. That benefit may be derived from all outward things 54
21. To those who undertake the profession of teacher
with a light heart . . . . . • 57
22. On the calling of the Cynic .... 60
23. To those who read and discourse for display . 77
24. That we ought not to spend our feelings on things
beyond our power ...... 84
Contents 9
PAGE
CHAP.
25. To those who fail to achieve what they set before
them .
26. To those who fear want . • IO4
BOOK IV
1. On Freedom
2. On intercourse with men .
3. What to aim at in exchange . • H2
4. To those whose heart is set on a quiet life . H4
5. To those that are contentious and brutal . 152
6. To those who are distressed at being pitied . 158
7. On freedom from fear . . • J°5
8. To those who hastily assume the character of
Philosophers .
9. To one who was modest and has become shame
less
l8°
10. What things we should despise, and what we should
deem important .... • 1°2
00
11. On cleanliness .
12. On attention . • J93
13. To those who lightly communicate their secrets 197
FRAGMENTS . . .... 201
MANUAL OF EPICTETUS
NOTES .... . • • 239
LIST OF PASSAGES QUOTED . • 265
INDEX OF PROPER NAMES, with Descriptions . . 267
INDEX OF MATTERS ...... 276
SOME BOOKS OF REFERENCE1
EDWIN A. ABBOTT. Silanus the Christian.
VON ARNIM. Epiktctos (in Pauly-Wissowa's Rcal-Encyclo-
pddic],
E. V. ARNOLD. Roman Stoicism.
E. R. BEVAN. Stoics and Sceptics.
A. BONHOFFER. I. Epiktet und die Stoa. II. Die Ethik des
Stoikers Epiktet.
S. Dn.r.. Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius.
T. R. GLOVER. The Conflict of Religions in the Roman
Empire.
R. D. HICKS. Stoic and Epicurean.
C. MARTHA. Les Moralistes sous I'Empire roinahi.
GILBERT MURRAY. The Stoic Philosophy.
E. ZELLER. Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics.
1 This list is intended rather for the ordinary reader than for
the scholar, and does not profess to be complete. A full biblio
graphy will be found in Professor E. V. Arnold's Roman Stoicism.
INTRODUCTION
EPICTETUS AND HIS AGE
THE new life given to the study of Rome and her insti
tutions under the early Empire has served to dispel many
false notions. It is fully realized now that the pagan
world in the first century was not bankrupt in institutions
or ideas. The Roman Republic, noble as its achieve
ments had been in its best age, had not said the last word
in the development of Roman Law and institutions ; the
work of the great jurists, the Romanization of the Empire
by means of new centres of free municipal life, the organi
zation for defence and government of the Graeco-Roman
world which preserved it against barbarian forces, until
the inheritance of Rome could be passed on to the nations
of modern Europe — all this positive achievement is seen
to compensate in some measure for the loss of an indepen
dent Senate and the disappearance of the simple life of
old Rome. So also in the spiritual world : the state
religion of Rome, it is true, had become a pompous
mockery, but that does not mean that Rome had nothing
to live by, no theory of living. It is against reason to
suppose that the great work of law and government
which Rome accomplished between Augustus and Diocle
tian had no counterpart in the inner life of its subjects.
The history of the Empire is unintelligible without some
1 2 Introduction
study of the mingled influences which came from the
traditional discipline of family education, and from the
penetration of the Roman world by Greek philosophy.
Happily these influences are now in no danger of being
overlooked. The works of M. Martha, Mr. Glover, and
Dr. Wendland, and the studies of Sir Samuel Dill on
the Empire, not to speak of the imaginative presentment
of the conflict of ideas in Roman society in Marius the
Epicurean, to name only a few writers, have helped us to
realize more adequately the moving forces of the world
in which Christianity arose, and the continuity, as well
as the contrast, of the new world with the old. In this
record of the inner life of Rome Stoicism holds a large
place. Its doctrines find literary expression in many
forms : but no utterance is perhaps so forcible or so
instructive as this of Epictetus. Seneca, as Professor
Pelham has pointed out, is rather a cultivated man of the
world than a teacher whose heart is in his mission ;
Marcus Aurelius rises to nobler heights and his position —
that of the philosopher with greatness thrust upon him —
gives a peculiar note of pathos to his writing. But
Epictetus's influence comes closer to the bosom of the
common man and is also more illustrative of the age.
We see the preacher at his business : here is no work of
literary art, but a plain report of the day-to-day discourses
to which young Romans listened, and which gripped
their attention by the pungent irony and the masterful
directness with which the new scale of values is enforced.
It is not the monologue of reflection, but a series of
dramatic scenes in which preacher and listener and this
Epictetus and his age 1 3
or that third person play their parts, in a perpetual
dialectic. If at times the discussion seems to become
abstract and remote, we are brought into the real world
again by some suggestive touch of contemporary life, of
the court or the magistrate, or the public games, or the
actual lecture-room, where all this dialogue is going on.
It is a striking testimony to the wide range of Stoic
influence that it should have found its highest expression
in a Roman Emperor and a Greek slave, both finding
common ground in the Stoic doctrine and the language
of the later Greek world. That the slave's sermons
should have been preserved by a high Roman official is
a proof that the great administrators of the Empire had
turned to good purpose the teaching of Hellenism.
Who and what was this Greek slave ? Like many of the
greatest he is almost unknown except in his writings.
From the scattered statements which have been collected
from writers of the second and later centuries, based
largely on his own writings, we learn that he was slave
to one Epaphroditus, a freedman of Nero, that he came
from Hierapolis in Phrygia, and that he was lame. His
master seems to have allowed him to attend the lectures
of the Stoic Musonius Rufus and ultimately to obtain
his freedom. He lived a life of bare simplicity, and
taught philosophy in Rome, but on the expulsion of
philosophers from Rome and Italy by Domitian in A. D. 89
he went and taught at Nicopolis in Epirus, the Greek
city founded by Augustus to commemorate the victory
of Actium. There his lectures were attended by many
students from Italy and the Greek East. The Discourses
1 4 Introduction
show us how the sophist's lecture had passed into the
sermon of the popular preacher, and from his Discourses
we can construct some picture of the scene in his lecture-
room. Sometimes the master would read his own dis
courses to his pupils, sometimes he would comment on
the Stoic texts, or would listen to his pupils' essays1 and
criticize them in class. The teaching would one day
take the form of a dialogue, in which both master and
pupil joined, or in which Epictetus himself would play
both parts, supplying question and answer, in rapid
interchange. Now and again some person of fashion or
importance, landing at the port, would look into the
lecture-room to hear what the master had to say, thinking
to pick up in a casual visit the lessons of a lifetime, and
would as often as not receive the snub he deserved.
There was plenty of diversity among the audience ;
there were serious students and frivolous young dandies ;
earnest young Stoics, whose main interest was in specula
tion, and men of the world like Arrian, who were taking
a course of philosophy as a preparation for the higher
service of the State.
We are told that Epictetus was on intimate terms with
Hadrian, but whether they met at Nicopolis or Athens
is not known. According to Suidas he lived into the
reign of Marcus Aurelius (accession 161 A.D.) but as he
left Italy in 89 and must have then been already known
1 The precise meaning of ava^iyvwaKuv in Epictetus has been
much discussed. It seems sometimes to mean reading out a Stoic
text, sometimes the reading of a pupil's essay. See Bruns' de
Schola Epicleli, Kiel, 1897.
Epictetus and his age i f
as a teacher it is very unlikely that he lived much beyond
the accession of Antoninus Pius (138). He wrote nothing
so far as we know, and we owe the preservation of his
Discourses and the compilation of the Manual to one of
his most devoted pupils, who also became a distinguished
Roman official. This man, Flavius Arrianus,2 of Nico-
media in Bithynia, attended Epictetus's lectures at
Nicopolis as a young man, and took notes of them ; later
he attracted the notice of Hadrian and became consul
in 130 and legate of Cappadocia in 131. The history
of the publication of the Discourses is given in Arrian's
touching preface. The precise extent of the Discourses
is uncertain. Photius says that there were eight books of
discourses (8taTpi/3at) and twelve of colloquies (6/uA.icu),
and Gellius xix. 2 refers to the 5th book of the SiaAe£ets,
but this last is probably a variant for Starpt/^ai. Schenkl
thinks that there were eight booksof discourses (Starpt/Sat )
and four of ' colloquies ' (6/uAiai), but this must remain
doubtful. The ' Handbook ' or ' Manual ' (ey^eipt'Stov),
which is a condensed selection of Epictetus's sayings, also
made by Arrian, is in itself evidence that the present
collection of the Discourses is incomplete, for it contains
sayings which are not to be found in them. Stobaeus also
(a lexicographer of the fifth or sixth century) quotes (see
fragments 13-16 of Epictetus) sayings from Epictetus's
'Commentaries' (uTro/mj/zoveiVaTa) which Schenkl believes
to be distinct from Arrian's records of him. His works
were widely read and admired, and after being quoted
against the Christians as the noblest utterances of pagan
3 See Pelham's Essays on Roman History, pp. 212 ff.
1 6 Introduction
philosophy were later so far adopted by Christian writers
that the Manual became a popular work of edification
and was re-edited in a Christian form. Both the pagan
and the Christian revered him as a master. Lucian tells
us (adv. indoct. 13) that a man gave 3,000 drachmae for
Epictetus's earthenware lamp in the hope that it would
light him on to attain the wisdom of that wondrous old
man ; and Fabricius has a story of uncertain origin that
Augustine prayed that Epictetus might attain to eternal
life.
EPICTETUS AND STOICISM
This is not the place to trace the history of Stoic ideas
or to give a complete account of Stoic doctrine. Happily
the greater part of Epictetus's Discourses can be followed
without any detailed knowledge of Stoicism. For a fuller
study readers should consult Mr. Edwyn Bevan's Stoics
and Sceptics, or the other works on Stoicism mentioned
in the list given on p. 10. It is sufficient here to say some
thing on the relation of Epictetus to his predecessors and
to his contemporaries, and then to give a short account
of the technical terms of his psychology and ethics.
The earlier history of the school is associated with a few
great names : Zeno, of Citium in Cyprus, its founder ;
Cleanthes, strong in character rather than in intellect,
whose noble hymn to Zeus is perhaps the best-known
Stoic utterance; Chrysippus, who expanded and formu
lated the Stoic doctrines. All these are referred to in
Epictetus's Discourses. In Stoicism as it influenced
\
Epictetus and Stoicism i 7
Roman society other great men bore a large part :
Panaetius, who, as the friend of Scipio and his circle, made
Stoicism familiar at Rome, and still more Posidonius,
whose versatile genius illuminated many fields and gave
a wider scope to the Stoic doctrine until it threatened
to lose its distinctive colour and become merged in the
common stock, in that fusion of Platonic and Stoic teach
ing which we find represented in the pages of Plutarch.
But with these later developments Epictetus had little to
do ; though he belongs to the first century of the Empire
he is a Stoic of the old school as Bonhoffer has conclusively
shown ; and it is therefore not necessary to say anything
here of the modified Stoicism for which Posidonius more
than any one man seems to have been responsible. A few
words on the earlier stage of Stoic doctrine must suffice as
an introduction to Epictetus's own teaching.
Stoicism was an attempt to simplify the problems of
existence and of conduct by a bold assertion of the unity
of the world on the one hand, and of the unity of man's
soul on the other. The universe is an ordered whole, in
constant movement, but moving in a rational order ; it
is material, but there are gradations in the elements of
which it is composed ; the whole may be regarded at once
as governed by God, and identical with God. God is, on
the one hand, the purest form of matter — fire or spirit 3
— on the other, the highest expression of reason (Ao'yos).
Similarly man's being is one : he must not be regarded
as a composite creature with a rational part distinct from
an irrational; he is a rational creature, his Governing
3 trvtv^a, ' air-current ', as some translate it.
546-24 I B
1 8 Introduction
Principle (rjyefj.oviKov) is reason, a fragment of the divine.
The Universe (KOCT/AOS), the source of things, is in periodic
process, and at the end of each period is consumed in
a conflagration, from which the process of things recom
mences. Fire once more passes into vapour and moisture,
and out of these are generated the earth, air, and water,
out of which the world is built up, the air and fire being
the active elements or force, and earth and water the
passive or matter.
At first sight the whole Stoic position might seem
doomed to hopeless materialism, but it is saved from this
by its bold assertion of (l) the dynamic power of reason
in the world, and (2) the independence of the human will.
The rational will of man has power to recognize the
rational order of the world and to adopt it as his own.
By the exercise of his own powers, the authority which
reason gives him, he is able to control his own inner life
and to accept events as the outcome of God's will, and by
this attitudeto attain to perfect freedom. He achieves this
consummation, in which tranquillity and independence
are to be found, by the exercise of his faculties — by the
right use of experience, whether the outward experience
of events or the inward experience of the mind. Stress
is constantly laid, as will be seen in these pages, on reason,
discourse, logical training, mental discipline ; but at the
back of all is a conviction that man is in some sense
immediately conscious of the divine order of the world,
and it is this which gives to Stoic doctrine the fervour of
a religious faith.
Its admission that man's soul, even God Himself, is
Epictetus and Stoicism 19
material, that there is no ultimate line to be drawn
between body and spirit, exposes Stoicism to perpetual
contradiction ; it is the price paid for securing that
unity which gave to Stoicism its driving power, and
which appealed so strongly to the Roman mind, interested
in the marshalling of disciplined forces on a large scale
and in the wide application of ordered laws.
The main interest of Stoicism was in conduct : its chief
contribution in this field was the assertion that the highest
good lies in conformity with nature or reason : this alone
has absolute value, all other things are ' indifferent '
(dSiae^opa). The only good things (dya#a) of absolute
value are those which lie within the control of man's will,
which belong to his inner life. To these alone he must
direct his will if he is to find freedom from fear and desire,
the peace of mind which is the Stoic ideal. But being in
the every-day world of action the Stoic has to take some
notice of the ' indifferent ' things with which the daily
actions of ordinary men are concerned. There is a
difference of value (d£ia) even among these things.
From the first Zeno distinguished certain things as
' promoted ' or ' preferred ' 4 (Trpo^y^eva) which still have
value for men though they should not be objects of his
desire. They are relatively but not absolutely indifferent.
He can do without them and their loss does not mean
failure, but he may take them in preference to other
indifferent things. Such are ' in the sphere of the soul,
cleverness, skill, intellectual progress, and the like ; in the
sphere of the body, life, health, strength, good condition,
4 Arnold, Roman Stoicism, translates 'things of high degree'.
B 2
20 Introduction
completeness of members, beauty ; in the sphere of
detached things, wealth, repute, gentle birth, and the
like.' 5 But this distinction between Trpor/y/AeW which
have value and a7ro7rpo^y/x,eva which have not, though it
plays a large part in Stoic doctrine, is not mentioned by
Epictetus. We need not believe that he ignored it, but
he is so much interested in insisting on the primary truth
that the sole concern of man is with what lies within the
control of his will that, at least in the discourses preserved
to us, he does not call attention to this lesser distinction.
In this, as in some other features of his ethics, he comes
very near to the Cynic position. There is another aspect
of the practical side of Stoicism to which Epictetus gives
much more attention. When the Stoic was asked how
his rational formula of life was to be applied in detail,
he answered that everyday conduct is determined by con
sideration of what actions are ' appropriate ' (/c
to a man's circumstances and to the relations
in which he stands to other people.
True happiness is to be found in rational conduct only ;
pleasure as such has no value. The emotions or feelings
(irdOif) — fear, desire, pleasure, pain — though they are
states of the ruling reason, are not true to man's nature —
they are the product of false judgements. The rational
man must keep them in control, or get rid of them by
coming to realize his errors.6 The young must be trained
5 Diog. Laert, vii. 106 (Bevan's Trans.).
6 It is in regard to the emotions generally that Epictetus comes
most into conflict with the Christian ideal. Sympathy is allow
able, but only if it does not disturb the soul's serenity. You may
Epictetus and Stoicism
21
in the application of judgements if they are to keep in the
right way.
Connected with the Stoic idea of the supremacy of
reason is the paradox, made familiar to us in the criticisms
of Horace and others, that the wise man alone is virtuous
and that there are no degrees in virtue. Epictetus has
too much humanity and humour to adopt this extreme
position. There is, to his mind, a world of difference
between the philosopher and the layman, but the philo
sopher too must be a man indeed, a man who lives up to
his true nature, and in practice the dividing line between
enlightenment and ignorance cannot be sharply drawn.
It will be seen from what Epictetus says about moral
progress or proficiency (irpoKoirrj) that he regards all
men as having the potential germ of perfection ; the de
termining factor is a right direction of the will. The
' probationer ' (6 TT/JOKOTTTWV), who is on the right way,
may still be only in the rudimentary stages or he may have
come near to perfection, but in either case his character
has in it the promise of wisdom.
The paradox of Stoicism in regard to conduct is the
antinomy of free-will and necessity. The order of the
world is a necessary order : Zeus, Fate, the rational order
— under whatever name the principle of the universe is
described — is fixed and unchangeable. Yet the Stoics are
equally clear that man is master of his fate, in the sense
that his every action on its inner side is his own choice.
sigh with your friend, but your inner being must remain unmoved
(cf. Ench. 16). Similarly pity is viewed with suspicion, and friend
ship and affection must be kept within strict limits.
2 2 Introduction
His true attitude combines self-surrender and indepen
dence.
Conduct was the supreme interest of Stoicism, but
conduct was not to be isolated from knowledge : only he
who knows his place in the world can live and act in
accordance with nature. This at once gives heightened
value and interest to science. And as reason is the soul
of the world, the handling of the processes of human
reason is an important part of human study. Logic and
grammar, the analysis of expression and discourse, occupy
a large place.7 This purely intellectual side of Stoicism,
as we shall see, appeals little to Epictetus, and he is often
at pains to point out that its value is only in relation to
life and action and as preparatory to it.
If we turn from the actual teaching of Epictetus and
ask what are the surroundings in which it was delivered,
the moral atmosphere of the world which he addressed,
we find in his discourses many hints of the institutions
and life of the century in which he lived. Foremost and
ominously significant are the references to absolute
monarchy : ' the tyrant ' and his guards are always in the
background, dominating the life of the plain man, a per
petual menace to the freedom of the individual citizen.
The friendship of the Emperor is the avenue to Roman
society. His frown may mean at any moment exile or
death. His spies are scattered in the city, ready to entrap
7 The Stoics were specially interested in hypothetical and
disjunctive inferences. When Epictetus refers to logical studies
he describes them as consisting in ' analysis of variable syllogisms,
fallacious premisses and hypothetical propositions' (ii. 21. 17).
Epictetus and Stoicism 23
the innocent citizen. The citizen has indeed his oppor
tunity to exercise his powers, in an ordinary country-town
or a provincial capital (e.g. Corinth, iii. I. 34), or in the
more exciting life of Rome with its noisy ambitions. In
Rome everything is overshadowed by the ambition of
office ; men's hopes and fears are centred on the dignities
and emoluments of the Senatorial or Equestrian career.
The highest class look forward to the rank of Senator or
Consular, with the prospect of a governorship to follow.
The Equestrian order look forward to rising to one of the
great prefectures. We get glimpses of provincial gover
nors presiding at public games or festivals, or ruling a
province for their personal profit, and of the 'Corrector'
of free cities 8 visiting the philosopher's lecture-room.
Epictetus speaks of the ' Roman Peace ' established by
the Principate, which gives every man security to travel
by land or sea (iii. 13.9). To the great lawyers, Masurius
and Cassius, he refers to contrast their subject with the
high laws of God. The philosopher and his school are
in evidence ; apart from the references to his own
teaching there is the vivid picture of his master, Musonius
Rufus (iii. 23. 29-30). Everywhere it is implied that
the young Roman is sent from home to sit at the feet of
public teachers, at Nicopolis or Athens, or elsewhere.
The games — especially those of Olympia — are constantly
spoken of and supply Epictetus, as they do St. Paul, with
many of his illustrations ; and there is frequent mention
8 An Imperial official who begins to appear in the first century
A. D., coming in to regulate the affairs of cities which were nominally
' free ' : a sign of the growing centralization.
24 Introduction
of the other public festivals, and of the theatre and its
spectacles. The quieter life of Italy and the provinces
is suggested in many pictures by the way — the children
with their games and mud-pies, the professional beggar
with his long hair and ragged cloak, the slave and his
servitude, the freedman and the price of his enfranchise
ment. The very smell of Rome reawakens ambition in
the returning exile, who had sworn that he would live
quietly, and he yields to the overpowering fascination.
Along with these touches, which show an observant and
sympathetic eye, there are glimpses of the fopperies and
vanities and vices of a world where old household pieties
had been undermined and no new religion had yet
replaced the old family discipline. The Jews are
several times mentioned, but we hear nothing of the
other Oriental cults, such as those of Isis and Mithras,
which were coming in with their new emotional appeals,
and a casual reference to ' the Galileans ' is the only hint
we find of the Christian communities which were now
springing up in the quiet corners of Rome and the Roman
world. On the other hand the ordinary religious obser
vances of the Graeco-Roman world — sacrifice, consultation
of oracles, worship — are assumed as a part of daily life,
but they are raised to a higher plane by the constant
identification of God with reason and by the almost
personal language in which Zeus or God or the spirit of
the world is spoken of, and the exultant note with which
the preacher accepts the decrees of Providence. The
Mysteries are referred to with respect (iii. 21. 13), but it
is not to them that Epictetus looks for strength, nor do
Epictetus and Stoicism 2?
they supply him with much of his technical language.
To him, it would seem, as to other cultivated Romans,
philosophy rather than religion is the basis of con
duct ; and in the region of philosophy there are two main
theories of conduct, the Stoic and the Epicurean. That
is why he devotes a large space to analysing and rebutting
the Epicurean doctrine (ii. 20, iii. 7), which he evidently
regards as the chief rival of Stoicism in the Roman world.
The scepticism of Pyrrho and the doctrine of the New
Academy are indeed referred to, but Epicurus is the one
teacher whose sayings and arguments are examined at any
length. Epictetus is zealous to combat and overthrow
them by all possible means, for he regards their principle
of life as utterly unsound. The Epicureans who are good
are good in spite of their doctrine : they are nobly incon
sistent. Though he constantly contrasts the philosopher,
the enlightened or educated man (6 7r€7rcuSev/AeVos) with
the uninstructed layman (6 tSico-n??), the unphilosophic
mind, we feel, as we hear him discourse, that we are not
asked to admire the pedantry of the abstract theorist :
he keeps always close to everyday life and conduct, and
the performance of
the little nameless unremembered acts
of daily life is not despised. A wise cheerfulness is to him
a large part of the secret of life. And in the last resort,
when cheerfulness is no longer possible, because the con
dition of self-respect seems gone, and the rational life is
threatened in its very citadel of the soul, ' the door is
open,' and a man may leave life as quietly as he came into
2 6 Introduction
it. This ' open door ', which to us seems a weakness in
Stoicism, is only a last resource ; in a world more happily
organized than imperial Rome it would be unnecessary,
and even here no man may use it unless he is convinced in
his mind that God has ' sounded the bugle for his retreat '.
Till then he must live his life, he must ' play the game
out '. Like all theories of life the Stoic has its antinomies
to reconcile, and Epictetus is aware of them : the Stoic,
in a sense, is detached and independent, but he is also
a social being with all sorts of human ties ; he must be a
student, but he must study only that he may be and do ;
he must be brave, but he must also be cautious; a citizen
of this human world, he must never forget his citizenship
' which is in heaven ' ; alive to the stern realities of life,
inflexible and immovable in matters of principle, he must,
like Socrates, wear a countenance ' attired with bright
ness ', and be a source of cheerfulness and joy to his fellows.
But the radiant face is no gloss upon the surface, it is the
sign of that conformity with God's will which is the test
of the rational man.
Lead me, O Zeus, and lead me Destiny,
Whither your high disposal bids me go.
It is at once his necessity and his deliberate choice.
Psychology of Epictetus 27
PSYCHOLOGY OF EPICTETUS
The psychology of Epictetus can only be pieced
together from his discourses, and its technical terms are
not always strictly used, but its main features are clear,
and are those of the earlier Stoics. There is no distinction
of a rational and an irrational element in the soul of man.
It is one and indivisible. The characteristic name for
it is ' the Governing Principle ' (TO rjjf/jioviKov). It in
cludes feeling (TTU^OS) and perception (cucrifyo-is) as well
as reason (Xoyos) and is identified with the whole spirit
(i/'i'X7?) of man.9 The characteristic feature 'n man's
nature is reason (Adyos) and therefore the Governing
Principle is thought of as rational, but Epictetus with his
strong interest in character often applies to it epithets
which belong rather to what We should call the ' character '
or ' will ' or ' heart ' of man, than to ' reason ' 10 in the
narrower sense.
The senses are but functions of the Governing Principle
(TO -ffyf/jiovLKov), exercised through separate organs. The
word ' perception ' or ' sensation ' (euo-fl^o-is) is used
both of perception by the senses and of the inner percep
tion or self-consciousness (sometimes called
TU ff^tfjioviKov is sometimes distinguished from the rest of the
fi, but on the whole must be regarded as coextensive with it.
10 Other phrases used sometimes to express the whole being
of man, sometimes one aspect only, are : Sidvoia (understanding),
which is the rational element in man ; irpoaiptais, moral choice, the
will, the distinctive quality of man on the side of character and
action.
2 8 Introduction
Sometimes the purely sensuous aspect of the process of
aicr^cris is emphasized, at other times the intellectual.
But the word most commonly used by Epictetus in
regard to sensation or perception in general is (/rnvracria,
' imagination,' ' impression,' ' presentation,' a word of
very wide range and very difficult to render. The Latin
rendering visum, ' appearance,' is not very informing, and
no English word can convey its whole range of mean
ing ; it is used by Epictetus for everything presented
to consciousness, whether the simplest sensation or the
images called up by the rational mind (Stavota) or by the
memory, or even those more complex images presented to
the mind and adopted by its assent (oTry/caTa&ro-is), which
are more properly called ' judgements ' (Soy/mra). Its
range, in fact, covers the whole sphere of the mind's
action, and its exact meaning must be determined by
the context.
Such ' impressions ' are the material on which the
mind works. The power not only to deal with his
impressions in the ordinary sense (which he shares with
the lower animals) but to understand them and deal
with them or attend to them intelligently (n-apaKoXovOelv)
depends upon man's rational faculty (Aoyi/o) StW/xis).
From this point of view the whole activity of man may
be summed up in ' the faculty of handling impressions
rightly' (6p@r] xprja-LS^avTao-iStv). The much disputed
phrase KaraX-iyim.^ ^avrao-ta, ' apprehensive impression '
(i.e. an impression which lays hold on the mind with
convincing force) is rarelyused by Epictetus, but he shares
the general Stoic view that such impressions carry with
Psychology of Epictetus 29
them the conviction of their truth and command assent
(oa-yKaratfecm). Assent (cnry/caTa(9ecm) is the approval
by the reason (Siavoia) of the impressions (<£avTao-/ai)
presented to it. A man may either give assent or refuse
it (dvaveveiv), or withhold his judgement (eTre'xeiv,
i. 28. 2).
But apart from the product of sensation, the mind finds
itself at the outset in possession of certain general ' pre
conceptions ' (TrpoA^eis) of ' good ' and ' bad ' and the
like, which he shares with other men as ' general concep
tions' Ootvai eVvotcu). They are at first vague and imper
fectly understood and one part of man's activity lies in
applying these preconceptions to the concrete details
of life in a word, in making them definite and articu
late (S^po^eV?/ TpoM^w)- The same process from
another aspect (ii. 10) consists in making definite and
articulate to ourselves the true meaning of the terms
(ovo/iora) which we begin by using in a rough and
ready way.
It will be seen that on the psychological side the terms
of primary importance are : ' impressions ' (^avrao-tat) and
' judgements ' (Sdy/xara). In the handling and interpre
tation of the raw material of experience and thought, in
the framing of true judgements from what the senses
and the self-conscious mind present to man, lies the secret
of the rational life.
Introduction
PSYCHOLOGY OF CONDUCT
When we examine Epictetus's psychology on the side of
action and conduct we find the best starting-point in his
classification of the departments of philosophic education
(TOTTOI). These are three, concerned respectively with (i)
the will to get and the will to avoid (ope£t9 and l/cKvWis) ;
(2) impulse (opprj) ; (3) assent (o-uyKaratfecris). The third
sphere is concerned with all the logical activities of man.
Assent indeed is implied in the other functions of the
rational soul (Aoyi/o) i/^x7?) which are covered by o/aefis
and opfji-rj, but as Epictetus's main concern is with the
practical working of character and conduct he does not
take pains to analyse the intellectual processes involved.
Logic, as the reader of the Discourses will see, he holds
to be a necessary element in the training of the true
philosopher, but its more advanced problems are outside
the range of the ordinary man, whose main concern is to
keep his will (which is covered by ope£ts and op/nij) in
a right state. What is the relation of ' will ' (o/oe£«) and
' impulse ' (opp.r{) to one another ? How are they distin
guished ? The hardest word to translate in Epictetus
is oppri, and any rendering adopted must be regarded
rather as a symbol than an exact equivalent, as no Eng
lish word exactly corresponds to it.11 In its widest sense
it was applied by the Stoics to all processes of the will and
from this point of view all ope£ets would be species of
11 The Romans found the same difficulty : the translations
appetitio and impetus are not very satisfactory.
OP/AT;, but it is clear from the threefold division of man's
activities mentioned above (opt£is, opfj-rj, crvyKara^ecri?)
that in general Epictetus regards them as distinct stages
in the operation of the mind in regard to action. The
main distinction between opf£i<s (will to get) and opp.rj
(impulse) is this, that the former is less closely related to
action : it implies direction to an object as good (dyaOov)
or advantageous (o-up£e'pov) but without involving action :
impulse (opp.rj) marks the first step towards action, the
adoption of an object as something to be done or achieved.
opc£is is the choice of an end, 6/>/n; the first step toward
its realization : its sphere is TO. KaO^Kovra, the ' appro
priate acts ' of daily life.
The converse of ope£i? is eK/cAtcris, ' the will to avoid,'
the converse of opfjirj (impulse to act) is d^op/xr; (impulse
not to act). All these functions of the soul are normal
and rational if rightly directed, but they are subject to
error and may be directed to wrong objects. The philo
sopher, the enlightened or educated man, wills only to get
those goods which are in his power, and that being so, his
will never fails ; in the same way he wills to avoid only the
evils which it is in his power to avoid, and he therefore
never incurs those evils. On the other hand, if a man
directs his will to get or to avoid what is beyond his con
trol he is always liable to failure and disappointment.
ope£ts in itself is a neutral word and may be used both
of rational and irrational exercise of will. If the Stoic
wishes to speak of will as irrational he uses the word
fTTidv^La, ' desire,' as distinguished from fiovXycns,
'rational will.' But in certain passages (i. 4 note I, iii. 22.
3 2 Introduction
13, &c.) Epictetus speaks of the necessity of removing
or postponing ope£is altogether as though it were bad in
itself. The explanation is that he is here addressing the
beginner in ethics, who is under discipline, learning from
his master how to avoid what is evil, but not yet having
a formed character to supply him with proper objects for
his will. It is one of the paradoxes of conduct that a man
cannot will to do good until in a sense he has become good,
but Epictetus would doubtless admit that the will must
from the first have exercise. Only he is anxious to warn
his pupil not to be too ready to exercise his will before
he has learnt the distinction between the goods which
are within our power (TrpoaipcTiKa) and those which
are not, those which are ' our own ' and those which are
' alien ' or ' another's ' (dAAo'rpia). In the exercise of
impulse, positive and negative (O/D/AT? and a^opprj), the
criterion is that they should be in accordance with nature
or reason (iv. 4. 28 OP/JLTJ Kal a(f>op/j.7J ^p^ja-OaL Kara <£u(riv).
The will acts in accord with nature if it is rational, and
the process of education consists in educating the will
by means of the reason. Error and sin lie not in the
triumph of a material element in the soul over the rational
—the Stoics admit no such dualism- — but in the perversion
of the reason, and the object of education is to set it
right, to mould man's reason (Xoyos) into right reason
(6p#os Aoyos). In this lifelong process the material
conditions of life cannot control or hinder man's spiritual
development ; the body is indeed lower than the soul,
of which it is the husk or vehicle, but it cannot hinder
man if he sets his choice on the objects which are within
Psychology of Conduct 33
his control. The body is not a degrading prison, but
the necessary means of his personal growth. The diffi
culties of life, all that is summed up in circumstance
(Trept'o-racris), is the material for his moral training, and
must be used to strengthen him for further achievement.
ETHICAL PRINCIPLES
The ethical principles of Epictetus will appear in his
Discourses, but the main features may be set down here
in outline. It is clear from what has been said of his
psychology that conduct for him consists in the proper
regulation of the will. The happiness which it is natural
to man to aim at, and which is within the reach of all, is
to be found in freedom and peace ; the freedom of man's
rational soul. The soul achieves this freedom when it is
directed to its own proper objects, and when its choice
is set on internal goods alone, which are man's own (tSta),
and within the region of his will (Trpoatperi/ca), not on
wealth and external goods, which are beyond his will
(a-rrpoaLpfTa) and do not belong to him (dAAdrpia). If his
will is ordered thus, he will always achieve what he wills
and avoid what he seeks to avoid, and by his escape from
the pain and fear which arise from unrealized or hampered
will he may attain a freedom from perturbation (drapa^ta)
and from passion (d.7ra$€ia) and a constancy which nothing
can shake.
This inward state will find its counterpart in the ex
pression of his rational nature in the appropriate acts
(TO. KaOrjKovra} of life. On the personal side these include
546-24 I C
34 Introduction
cleanliness, purity (with some concession to human
weakness), moderation, cheerfulness, piety. A man's life
is to be pervaded by a sense of the presence of God, and
by a conviction that circumstance and character are gifts
of which the best possible use is to be made. On the
intellectual side Epictetus's intense interest in conduct
overshadows the purely scientific interest ; at the same
time he insists that some knowledge of metaphysics is
necessary for man to understand his relations to God and
nature, and that without some logical training he cannot
aim at those right judgements (opOa. 8dy/Aara) which are
the indispensable conditions of right conduct. On the
other hand, the more advanced study of logic is only for
those who are specially gifted (eu^veis) .
If it be asked how the character and conduct which
Epictetus commends are to be achieved, the answer is that
all men have by nature some rudimentary moral endow
ment : they have also some general ideas or preconceptions
(irpoXrj{f/ei<;) of good and evil, right and wrong. Their
potential virtue may indeed be obscured and distorted by
bad surroundings and bad education. The first condition
then of ' moral progress ' (TTPOKOTT??) is to recognize one's
error, to be shown the right ; it is the function of the
preacher and the philosopher to awaken and direct. As
soon as a man's feet are set on the right path he may be
called in a state of progress (TTPO/COTTTWV) ; in a rudimentary
sense he is a ' probationer ', but he is not really a ' profi
cient ' in the full sense until he has approached much
nearer to the perfection (o-weyytcr^os Trpos
which is to be found in the truly wise.
Ethical Principles
Nowhere is Epictetus's strength more clearly shown than
in what he says of the character and method of ethical
education. It is slow, like the processes of nature. The
philosophic mind, the sense of the true values of things,
cannot be picked up by passing into and out of a lecture-
room ; it demands trained fitness in the teacher and
disciplined attention in the pupil. It implies a spiritual
sympathy between master and pupils in which one mind
reacts on another. The dull or indolent pupil will never
get the best that his master has to give.12 Education
demands time, but it is after all only a preparation for
life and action, and we cannot afford to spend all our days
in the lecture-room. Life is more than learning.
Again, man is not an isolated being, he is by nature
social (^wov KoivwviKov, ii. 10. 14) and cannot fulfil his
nature without understanding his proper social relations
(o^eo-eis) both to his family and to the State. He has
a duty to his city, and must serve it, if called upon ; but
he has a higher allegiance to ' the great City ' (17 fj.fydXrj
TrdXts, iii. 22. 4) which is the Universe (KOO-^OS)- This
background of ' the higher citizenship ' lessens the in
tensity of the ordinary civic claims, but the ' small city '
which lies nearest is by no means ignored (ii. 5. 26). The
wider conception of the world carries with it the idea of
universal equality : ' there is neither bond nor free ',
slavery is nothing unless it is a slavery of the spirit. All
men are linked together by the common tie of sonship
to God. Throughout life man's highest aim must be to
adopt God's will as his own ; in other words, to accept
12 Cf. i. 10. 10 foil.
c 2
3 6 Introduction
events. The Stoic conception of God does not indeed
allow this to be interpreted in the sense of any intimate
personal relation between the human soul and the divine.
The idea of God's fatherhood, which is frequently insisted
on, means to Epictetus that man shares in the rational
life of God and must learn to see in the rational forces
of the universe the operation of a divine providence.
He must also recognize his fellow men to be his brothers
in the human family. This bond of brotherhood has in
deed its own strict limits. It finds its highest expression in
Epictetus's description of ' the Cynic ', the ideal teacher,
whose mission it is to rouse his fellow men to right
living and who has a warning and awakening power. His
life is one of devotion to his fellow men. But in general
there is a certain hardness in the Stoic's attitude to his
fellows. The rational man has no room for pity, because
physical misery is nothing, and spiritual misery depends
on the man who feels it : no one else can remove it. Again,
it must be admitted that the Stoic doctrine looks upon
sin rather as error of judgement than as rooted deep in
character. It is true that when analysed the judgements
involved in conduct are seen to be not purely intellectual :
they depend on a man's whole nature, on the discipline
through which he has passed and on his own power of self-
control. But it remains true that this conception of sin
weakens the moral appeal of the preacher. When we
remember the degrading vices of which we have glimpses
in the pages of Martial and Juvenal as well as of Epictetus
himself, we can understand the relief with which a man
struggling under the influences of a vicious society might
Ethical Principles 37
turn from the colder counsels of Stoicism to another and
a more winning appeal. While Epictetus bade the sinner
look within to his own reason, there was growing up in
scattered groups over the Roman world a society which
promised to lift men out of this evil world and to save
them from spiritual death by the power of One who had
authority to forgive sin and to reconcile men with God.
In place of the Christian idea of the fatherhood of God,
in the sense of a divine love and self-sacrifice, which are
to relieve men of the burden of sin, Epictetus preaches to
his pupils the belief in a divine order to be accepted and
obeyed and of a divine presence to be recognized in the
ordinary pieties of life and worship. This faith is to be
strengthened and sustained by the powerful examples
afforded by the great heroes of the past. Man is not
alone in the world. In Heracles, the great deliverer, in
Socrates and in Diogenes men may find inspiring examples.
It is just this appeal to personal imitation which gives a
more human touch to the preacher's inculcation of the
ideal life. In these great leaders the true spirit of the
world has manifested itself in the past, and their record
is a proof of what the life of reason can achieve. The
man whose feet are set on the right path, who is advancing
in the philosophic life, may feel that he is not merely an
isolated unit, but one in the succession of noble spirits
who have worked together to make the world habitable
and to give to it the ordered discipline which reason
demands.
The doctrine of Epictetus, as will be seen from what
has been said, when analysed into its elements may seem
3 8 Introduction
too rational to satisfy ordinary human needs. The note
of detachment and independence makes it appear hard and
unlovely when contrasted with the ideal of a love which
1 oses itself in the lives of others. But no analysis or descrip
tion can do it justice. Like many other appeals, religious
and ethical, it depends for its force more on an inspiring
character than on a formulated creed. The personality
of Epictetus himself is what lays hold on the reader.
Selections can give his epigrams and finer sayings, but
one must read the full text of the Discourses to appreciate
the range of his powers. His overmastering conviction
of the supremacy of reason, his impatience of unmanliness
and loose living, his profound belief i n the unity of nature
and the kinship of the rational world, in which all men
are related as the children of one father — all these doc
trines are enforced by a dramatic method which arrests
and convicts, a sarcasm which strips affectation bare, and
a fiery earnestness which robs his rude strokes of their
cruelty. There are dull passages in the Discourses, but
they are perhaps necessary to remind the reader that he
has to do with no mere maker of epigrams, but with one
who appeals to reason. Epictetus believes that man
must think hard as well as live simply if he is to do well.
He need not be a philosopher, but he must equip himself
to dispose of the crude illusions that lie in wait to entrap
him into wrong. For this reason the Discourses are
much more representative of the preacher than the
Manual. They not only put before us the drama of the
lecture-room, but they give us the connexion between
the different parts of his doctrine. If they are sometimes
Ethical Principles 39
tedious, and occasionally obscure, they are from time to
time illumined by flashes of imagination, which make the
reader feel the majesty of the law of reason and the glory
of the universe about him. When all else is gone nothing
can take away from man the fatherhood of God, and the
splendour of ' all the company of heaven '. For to Epic-
tetus, as to Kant and Manilius,13 the unfailing wonder of
the universe presents itself in ' the starry heavens above
and the moral law within '.
The cycle of the universe will proceed through its
ordered changes, with its periodic conflagrations, the
individual soul will perish like the other constituents of
the universe and will pass into new forms. Epictetus
holds out no hope of the permanence of the individual
soul, no compensation in another world for the sorrows
of this one, no suggestion of the possibility of further
progress in knowledge and character beyond the grave —
these are consolations which Stoicism could not offer.
But for the brief moment that man finds himself in this
great gathering of human kind, this Olympia of life,
Epictetus would have man feel that through the conscious
ness that he is at one with the divine order of the universe,
the part, however humble, that he is cast to play upon
the stage is touched to higher issues which give it a dignity
and value that nothing can destroy.
13 A Stoic poet of the Augustan age. See H. W. Garrod's
Introduction to his edition of Book II of Manilius.
ARRIAN'S DISCOURSES OF
EPICTETUS
PREFACE
Arrianus to Lucius Gellius greeting
I DID not write down the Lectures of Epictetus in the
form of a book, as one might do with such utterances as
his, nor did I of my own will give them to the public, for,
as I say, I did not write them down for publication.
What I tried to do was to make notes of all that I used to
hear him say word for word in the very language he used,
so far as possible, and to preserve his sayings as reminders
for myself hereafter of the nature of his mind and the
directness of his speech. It follows then, as is natural,
that the words are just such as a man might use to
another on the impulse of the moment, not such as he
would write for formal publication, with a view to a circle
of readers hereafter. Moreover, such as they are, some
how or other they were put abroad among men without
my consent and without my knowledge. Well, to me it
is no great matter, if I appear in the world's eyes incapable
of writing a book ; and to Epictetus it will not matter in
the least if men despise his lectures, for in the very act of
giving them he made it plain that his one and only desire
was to impel the minds of his hearers towards the noblest
42 Discourses of Epictetus
objects. If then these lectures should accomplish this
result and no other, I take it they would be just what the
lectures of philosophers ought to be ; and if they fail, yet
I would have those who read them understand that when
Epictetus himself was speaking, his hearers were forced
to feel just what he would have them feel. If the words
read by themselves do not achieve this result, it may be
that I am to blame, but it may be also that it could not
be otherwise. Farewell.
BOOK 1
CHAPTER I
On things in our power and things not in our power.
OF our faculties in general you will find that none can How
take cognizance of itself ; none therefore has the power TZ??
to approve or disapprove its own action. Our gramma- from all
tical faculty for instance : how far can that take cogni- ? ,r .
zance ? Only so far as to distinguish expression. Our
musical faculty? Only so far as to distinguish tune. Does
any one of these then take cognizance of itself ? By no
means. If you are writing to your friend, when you
want to know what words to write grammar will tell
you ; but whether you should write to your friend or
should not write grammar will not tell you. And in the
same way music will tell you about tunes, but whether
at this precise moment you should sing and play the lyre
or should not sing nor play the lyre it will not tell you.
What will tell you then ? That faculty which takes cogni
zance of itself and of all things else. What is this ? The
reasoning faculty : for this alone of the faculties we have
received is created to comprehend even its own nature ;
that is to say, what it is and what it can do, and with
what precious qualities it has come to us, and to compre
hend all other faculties as well. For what else is it that
tells us that gold is a goodly thing ? For the gold does not
tell us. Clearly it is the faculty which can deal with our
44
Discourses of Epictetus
It is the
power to
deal with
impres
sions.
A gift of
and^tsel'f
divine.
impressions.1 What else is it which distinguishes the
faculties of music, grammar, and the rest, testing their
uses and pointing out the due seasons for their use ? It is
reason and nothing else.
The gods then, as was but right, put in our hands the
one blessing that is best of all and master of all, that and
nothing else, the power to deal rightly with our impres
sions, but everything else they did not put in our hands.
Was it that they would not ? For my part I think that
if they could have entrusted us with those other powers
as well they would have done so, but they were quite
unable. Prisoners on the earth and in an earthly body
and among earthly companions, how was it possible that
we should not be hindered from the attainment of these
powers by these external fetters ?
But what says Zeus ? ' Epictetus, if it were possible
I would have made your body and your possessions (those
trifles that you prize) 2 free and untrammelled. But as '
things are — never forget this — this body is not yours, it is
but a clever mixture of clay. But since I could not make
it free, I gave you a portion in our divinity, this faculty
of impulse to act and not to act, of will to get and will to
avoid,3 in a word the faculty which can turn impressions
to right use. If you pay heed to this, and put your affairs
in its keeping, you will never suffer let nor hindrance, you
will not groan, you will blame no man, you will flatter
none. What then ? Does all this seem but little to you ? '
Heaven forbid !
' Are you content then ? '
So surely as I hope for the gods' favour.
Book I, Chapter i 4J
But, as things are, though we have it in our power to If we fol
low it, we
pay heed to one thing and to devote ourselves to one, yet attend to
instead of this we prefer to pay heed to many things and one thing
instead of
to be bound fast to many — our body, our property, to many.
brother and friend, child and slave. Inasmuch then as
we are bound fast to many things, we are burdened by
them and dragged down. That is why, if the weather is
bad for sailing, we sit distracted and keep looking con
tinually and ask, ' What wind is blowing ? ' ' The north
wind.' What have we to do with that ? ' When will
the west wind blow ? ' When it so chooses, good sir, or
when Aeolus chooses. For God made Aeolus the master
of the winds, not you. What follows ? We must make
the best of those things that are in our power, and take
the rest as nature gives it. What do you mean by
' nature ' ? I mean, God's will.
' What? Am I to be beheaded now, and I alone ? '
Why ? would you have had all beheaded, to give you ^"e are un'
. dismayed
consolation ? Will you not stretch out your neck as by death.
Lateranus did in Rome when Nero ordered his beheadal ?
For he stretched out his neck and took the blow, and when
the blow dealt him was too weak he shrank up a little and
then stretched it out again. Nay more, on a previous
occasion, when Nero's freedman Epaphroditus came to
him and asked him the cause of his offence, he answered,
' If I want to say anything, I will say it to your master.'
What then must a man have ready to help him in such Because
... ... , ,tn we know
emergencies? Surely this : he must ask himself, What wnat can-
is mine, and what is not mine ? What may I do, what may not be
taken
I not do ? from us.
46 Discourses of Epictetus
I must die. But must I die groaning? I must be
imprisoned. But must I whine as well ? I must suffer
exile. Can any one then hinder me from going with
a smile, and a good courage, and at peace ?
' Tell the secret ! '
I refuse to tell, for this is in my power.
' But I will chain you '
What say you, fellow ? Chain me ? My leg you will
chain — yes, but my will — no, not even Zeus can conquer
that.
' I will imprison you.'
My bit of a body, you mean.
' I will behead you.'
Why ? When did I ever tell you that I was the only
man in the world that could not be beheaded ?
These are the thoughts that those who pursue philoso
phy should ponder, these are the lessons they should
write down day by day, in these they should exercise
themselves.
And are Thrasea used to say ' I had rather be killed to-day than
with what ex^ec^ to-morrow '. What then did Rufus say to him ?
is given. ' If you choose it as the harder, what is the meaning of
your foolish choice ? If as the easier, who has given you
the easier ? Will you not study to be content with what
is given you ? '
Agrippi- It was in this spirit that Agrippinus used to say — do
mis' atti- . , , T ... . .
tudeisthat 7OU know what ? I will not stand in my own way ! '
of the true News was brought him, 'Your trial is on in the Senate ! '
pher. ' Good luck to it, but the fifth hour is come '• — this was
the hour when he used to take his exercise and have a cold
Book /, Chapter i 47
bath — ' let us go and take exercise.' When he had taken
his exercise they came and toldhim, 'You are condemned.'
'Exile or death?' he asked. 'Exile.' 'And my pro
perty ? ' 'It is not confiscated.' ' Well then, let us go to
Aricia and dine.'
Here you see the result of training as training should
be, of the will to get and will to avoid, so disciplined that
nothing can hinder or frustrate them. I must die,
must I ? If at once, then I am dying : if soon, I dine now,
as it is time for dinner, and afterwards when the time
comes I will die. And die how ? As befits one who gives
back what is not his own.
CHAPTER II
How one may be true to one's character in everything.
To the rational creature that which is against reason To the
is alone past bearing ; the rational he can always bear. rati°nal
T>I u -11.1 creature
Blows are not by nature intolerable. all things
' What do you mean ? ' in. acc°rd
Let me explain ; the Lacedaemonians bear flogging, reason are
because they have learnt that it is in accord with reason. to'erable.
' But is it not intolerable to hang oneself ? '
At any rate, when a man comes to feel that it is rational,
he goes and hangs himself at once. In a word, if we look
to it we shall see that by nothing is the rational creature
so distressed as by the irrational, and again to nothing so
much attracted as to the rational.
But rational and irrational mean different things to But man
48
Discourses of Epictetus
needs edu
cation to
know what
is truly
rational
and act
upon it.
Nothing
is rational
for a man
which is
not in
keeping
with his
character.
Every
thing
depends
upon a
man's
standard.
He must
be true to
himself.
This is
illustrated
by the
dialogue
of Agrip-
pinus and
Florus.
different persons, just as good and evil, expedient and
inexpedient, are different for different persons. That is
the chief reason why we need education, that we may
learn so to adjust our preconceptions * of rational and
irrational to particular conditions as to be in harmony
with nature. But to decide what is rational and irrational
we not only estimate the value of things external, but each
one of us considers what is in keeping with his character.
For one man thinks it reasonable to perform the meanest
office 2 for another ; for he looks merely to this, that if
he refuses he will be beaten and get no food, while if he
does it nothing hard or painful will be done to him. To
another it seems intolerable not only to do this service
himself, but even to suffer another to do it. If then you
ask me, ' Am I to do it or not ? ' I shall say to you, to get
food is worth more than to go without it, and to be
flogged is worth less than to escape flogging: therefore, if
you measure your affairs by this standard, go and do it.
' But I shall be false to myself.'
That is for you to bring into the question, not for me.
For it is you who know yourself ; you know at how much
you put your worth, and at what price you sell yourself.
For different men sell at different prices.
That is why Agrippinus, when Florus was considering
whether he should go down to Nero's shows, to perform
some part in them himself, said to him, ' Go down.' And
when he asked, ' Why do you not go down yourself ? '
said, ' Because I do not even consider the question.' For
when a man once lowers himself to think about such
matters, and to value external things and calculate about
Book /, Chapter 2 49
them he has almost forgotten his own character. What
is it you ask me ? ' Is death or life to be preferred ? '
I say ' life '. ' Pain or pleasure ? ' I say ' pleasure '.3
' But, if I do not act in the tragedy, I shall be
beheaded.'
Go then and act your tragedy, but I will not do so.
You ask me, ' Why ? ' I answer, ' Because you count
yourself to be but an ordinary thread in the tunic.' The purple
What follows then ? You ought to think how you can be
like other men, just as one thread does not wish to have stands out
something special to distinguish it from the rest : but rest
I want to be the purple, that touch of brilliance which
gives distinction and beauty to the rest. Why then do
you say to me, ' Make yourself like unto the many ? ' If
I do that, I shall no longer be the purple.
Priscus Helvidius too saw this, and acted on it. When As we see
Vespasian sent to him not to come into the Senate he \n * e Y1"
answered, ' You can forbid me to be a senator ; but as spirit of
long as I am a senator I must come in.'
' Come in then,' he says, ' and be silent.'
' Question me not and I will be silent.'
' But I am bound to question you.'
' And I am bound to say what seems right to me.'
' But, if you say it, I shall kill you.'
'When did I tell you, that I was immortal? You
will do your part, and I mine. It is yours to kill, mine
to die without quailing : yours to banish, mine to go
into exile without groaning.'
What good, you ask, did Priscus do, being but one ?
What good does the purple do to the garment ? Just this,
546-241 D
He, like
the athlete
who pre
ferred
death to
shame,
acted in
keeping
with his
character.
Each man
will come
5-0 Discourses of Epictetus
that being purple it gives distinction and stands out as
a fine example to the rest. Another man, had Caesar in
such circumstances told him not to come into the Senate,
would have said, ' Thank you for sparing me.' Such a
one he would never have forbidden to come in ; he
would know that he would either sit silent like a pipkin
or if he spoke would say what he knew Caesar wished and
pile on more besides.
This spirit too was shown by a certain athlete, who
was threatened with death if he did not sacrifice his
virility. When his brother, who was a philosopher,
came to him and said, ' Brother, what will you do ? Are
we to let the knife do its work and still go into the gymna
sium ? ' he would not consent, but endured to meet his
death. (Here some one asked, ' How did he do so, as an
athlete or as a philosopher?') He did so as a man,
and a man who had wrestled at Olympia and been pro
claimed victor, one who had passed his days in such a place
as that, not one who anoints himself at Bato's. Another
man would have consented to have even his head cut off,
if he could have lived without it.
That is what I mean by keeping your character : such
is its power with those who have acquired the habit of
carrying it into every question that arises.
'• Go to, Epictetus, have yourself shaved.'
If I am a philosopher I say, ' I will not be shaved.'
' I must behead you then.'
Behead me, if it is better for you so.
One asked, ' How then shall we discover, each of us,
what suits his character ? '
Book /, Chapter 2 yi
How does the bull, he answered, at the lion's approach, to the
alone discover what powers he is endowed with, when he ^^ e ^e
stands forth to protect the whole herd ? It is plain that character,
with the possession of his power the consciousness of it
also is given him. So each of us, who has power of this
sort, will not be unaware of its possession. Like the bull, 1
the man of noble nature does not become noble of a
sudden ; he must train through the winter, and make
ready, and not lightly leap to meet things that concern
him not.
Of one thing beware, O man ; see what is the price at Above all,
which you sell your will. If you do nothing else, do not u1^ ma-?i
sell your will cheap. The great, heroic style, it may be, too cheap,
belongs to others, to Socrates 4 and men like him. b h
' If then this is our true nature, why do not all men, or of heroic
many, show it ? ' mould> he
J may yet
What ? Do all horses turn out swift, are all dogs good do, Ms beat,
at the scent ?
' What am I to do then ? Since I have no natural gifts,
am I to make no effort for that reason ? '
Heaven forbid. Epictetus is not better than Socrates :
if only he is as good as Socrates I am content. For I
shall never be a Milo, yet I do not neglect my body ;
nor a Croesus, and yet I do not neglect my property ;
nor, in a word, do we abandon our effort in any field
because we despair of the first place.
D 2
Discourses of Epictetus
He who
believes in
the father
hood of
God will
have no
mean
thoughts.
But most
men think
only of
their piti
ful body..
CHAPTER III
What conclusions may be drawn from the fact that God is
Father of men.
IF a man could only take to heart this judgement, as
he ought, that we are all, before anything else, children
of God and that God is the Father of gods and men,
I think that he will never harbour a mean or ignoble
thought about himself. Why, if Caesar adopts you, your
arrogance will be past all bearing ; but if you realize that
you are a son of Zeus, will you feel no elation ? We ought
to be proud, but we are not ; as there are these two
elements mingled in our birth, the body which we share
with the animals, and the reason and mind which we
share with the gods, men in general decline upon that
wretched and dead kinship with the beasts, and but few
claim that which is divine and blessed.
And so, since every one, whoever he be, must needs
deal with each person or thing according to the opinion
that he holds about them, those few who think that they
have been born to be faithful, born to be honourable,
born to deal with their impressions without error, have
no mean or ignoble thought about themselves. But
the thoughts of most men are just the opposite to this.
' What am I ? A miserable creature of a man ' ; and ' my
wretched rags of flesh '. Wretched indeed, but you
have too something better than your ' rags of flesh '.
Why then do you discard the better and cling to your
rags ?
Book /5 Chapter 3
beasts.
By reason of this lower kinship some of us fall away, and and so fall
become like wolves, faithless and treacherous and mis
chievous, others like lions, savage and brutal and untame- mere
able, but the greater part of us become foxes and the most
god-forsaken creatures in the animal world. For a foul-
mouthed and wicked man is no better than a fox or the
meanest and most miserable of creatures. Look to it
then and beware lest you turn out to be one of these god
forsaken creatures.
CHAPTER IV
On progress, or moral advance.
How shall we describe ' progress ' l ? It is the state of The true
him who having learnt from philosophers that man wills Pr°gress
_ L _ is towards
to get what is good, and wills to avoid what is evil, and peace of
having/learnt also that peace and calm come to a man only minc*>
if he fail not to get what he wills, and if he fall not into
that which he avoids,mas put away from him altogether
the will to get anything and has postponed it to the
future, and wills to avoid only such things as are dependent
on his will. For if he tries to avoid anything beyond his
will, he knows that, for all his avoidance, he will one
day come to grief and be unhappy. And if this is the
/ promise that virtue makes to us) — the promise to produce
happiness and peace and calm, surely progress toward
virtue is progress toward each of these. For to whatever
end the perfection of a thing leads, to that end is progress
an approach.
How is it then that, though we admit that this is the But men
^4 Discourses of Epictetus
seek it nature of virtue, we search elsewhere for progress and
elsewhere. disp]ay jt elsewhere ?
What does virtue produce ?
Peace of mind.
Who then makes progress ? Is it he who has read many
treatises of Chrysippus ? Can this be virtue — to have
understood Chrysippus ? For if this be so, we must admit
that progress is nothing but to understand a lot of sayings
of Chrysippus. But, the fact is, we admit that virtue
tends to one result, and yet declare that progress, the
approach to virtue, tends to another.
Progress ' Yonder man ', he says, ' can already read Chrysippus by
!iesnof. himself.'
in reading
books, but Bravo, by the gods, you make progress, fellow. Pro-
*" tra|'llnK gress indeed ! Why do you mock him ? Why do you
draw him away from the sense of his own shortcomings ?
Will you not show him what virtue really means, that he
may learn where to seek for progress ? Miserable man,
there is only one place to seek it — where your work lies.
Where .does it lie ? It lies in the region of will ; * that you
may not fail to get what you will to get, nor fall into what
you will to avoid ; it lies in avoiding error in the region
of impulse, impulse to act and impulse not to act : it lies
in assent and the withholding of assent, that in these you
may never be deceived.2 But the first department I
have named comes first and is most necessary. If you
merely tremble and mourn and seek to escape misfortune,
progress is of course impossible.
This is the Show me your progress then in this field. You act as
true work tjloug]1 wnen \ was talking to an athlete and said ' Show
Book /, Chapter 4 5-5-
me your shoulders ', he answered, ' Look at my leaping- of man, to
weights.' That is for you and your leaping-weights to w"j"fntoS
look to ; I want to see the final result of your leaping- harmony
with
weights. nature.
' Take the treatise on " Impulse" and learn how i have
read it.'
Slave, that is not what I am looking for — I want to
know what impulses you have, for action and against it,
to know what you will to get and will to avoid ; how you
plan and purpose and prepare — whether in harmony
with nature, or out of harmony with nature. Show me
that you act in harmony with nature, and I will tell you
that you are making progress ; act out of harmony with
nature, and I bid you begone and write books on such
things and not merely expound them. What good, I ask,
will they do you ? Do not you know that the whole book
is worth but five pence ? Do you think then that the
man who expounds it is worth more ? Therefore never
seek your work in one place and progress in another.
Where then is progress ? The man
, . . . , . . , i who is in
If any one of you, dismissing things without, has the way Of
brought his mind to bear on his own will, to work out its progress
, . . . r i has trained
full development, that he may bring it into perfect har- hig will>
mony with nature — lofty, free, unhindered, untrammelled, and left
trustworthy, self-respecting ; if he has learnt that he that c
wills to get or to avoid what is not in his power cannot that lies
be trustworthy nor free, but must needs h mself change
as they change, fitful as the winds, and must needs have
made himself subservient to others, who can procure or
hinder such things ; and if, in a word, when he rises in
56 Discourses of Epictetus
the morning he guards and keeps these principles, washes
as one thatis trustworthy, eats as one that is self-respecting,
and on each occasion that arises labours to achieve his
main tasks, even as the runner makes running his one aim
and the voice-trainer his training — he is the man who is
indeed in the path of progress and who has not travelled
to no purpose.
This puts But if all his efforts are turned to the study of books, if
mm above on ^jg ^e Spen(js nis labour, and for this has gone abroad,
laments of then I bid him go straight home and not neglect what
Priam and ^g £n(jg t^ere • for this that he has gone abroad for is
Oedipus
and gives nothing ; his true work is to study to remove from his
him the jj£e mourning and lamentation, the ' ah me ' and ' alas
calm con
tent of for my misery ', the talk of ' bad fortune ' and ' misfor-
Socrates. tun£ , . an(j tQ }earnj wnat is death, what is exile, what
is imprisonment, what is the cup of hemlock ; that he
may be able to say in prison, ' My dear Crito, if it pleases
the gods, so be it ', and not such words as ' miserable old
man that I am, is it for this I kept my grey hairs ? ' Whose
words are they ? Do you think I shall name to you a mean
man of no reputation ? Are they not the words of Priam
and of Oedipus ? Are they not the words of all kings that
are ? For what else are tragedies but a portrayal in such
metrical form of the sufferings of men who have set their
admiration on outward things ? If delusion after all were
the only means for a man to learn this lesson3 — the lesson
that not one of the things beyond the compass of our will
concerns us, then I for my part would choose a delusion
such as this, if it should procure me a life of undisturbed
tranquillity ; I leave it to you to see what you choose.
Book /, Chapter 4 5" 7
What then does Chrysippus offer us ? Yet men
'That you may know ', he says, 'that these truths from "kankftcT
which tranquillity and peace of mind come to men are God for
not false — take my books and you shall find that what thereve-
gives me peace of mind is true and in harmony with this truth,
nature.'
O great good fortune ! O great benefactor, who shows
us the way ! And yet — though all men have raised temples
and altars to Triptolemus, for teaching us the cultivation
of the crops, yet what man of you ever set up an altar
in honour of him who found the truth and brought it
to light and published it among all men — not the truth
of mere living, but the truth that leads to right living ?
Who ever dedicated a shrine or an image for this gift, or
worships God for it ? I say shall we, who offer sacrifices
because the gods gave us wheat or the vine, never give
thanks to God that they produced this manner of fruit
in the mind of men, whereby they were to show us the
true way of happiness ?
CHAPTER V
Against followers of the Academy.
IF a man, says Epictetus, objects to what is manifestly it is im-
clear, it is not easy to find an argument against him, Possible to
' . . . reason
whereby one shall change his mind. And this is not with a
because of his power, nor because of the weakness of him hardened
r . mind,
that is instructing him ; but, when a man, worsted in
argument, becomes hardened like a stone, how can one
reason with him any more ?
5" 8 Discourses of Epictetus
It is bad Now there are two ways in which a man may be thus
to have hardened : one when his reasoning faculty is petrified,
the reason
hardened, and the other when his moral sense is petrified, and he
sets himself deliberately not to assent to manifest argu-
worse when '
the moral ments, and not to abandon what conflicts with them.
sense is Now most Qj ug £ear ^ deaclening of tne body and would
take all possible means to avoid such a calamity, yet we
take no heed of the deadening of the mind and the spirit.
When the mind itself is in such a state that a man can
follow nothing and understand nothing, we do indeed
think that he is in a bad condition; yet, if a man's sense
of shame and self-respect is deadened, we even go so far
as to call him ' a strong man '.
Do you comprehend that you are awake ?
This is not 'No,' he says, 'no more than I comprehend it, when
ind ' ^ seem to be awake in my dreams.'
but mere Is there no difference then between the one sort of
weakness. • . 1^.1.^.1.5
impression and the other r
' None.'
Can I argue with him any longer ? What fire or sword,
I say, am I to bring to bear on him, to prove that his mind
is deadened ? He has sensation and pretends that he
has not ; he is worse than the dead. One man does not
see the battle ; he is ill off. This other sees it but stirs
not, nor advances ; his state is still more wretched. His
sense of shame and self-respect is cut out of him, and his
reasoning faculty, though not cut away, is brutalized.
Am I to call this ' strength '? Heaven forbid, unless I call
it ' strength ' in those who sin against nature, that makes
them do and say in public whatever occurs to their fancy.
Book /, Chapter 6 f9
CHAPTER VI
On Providence.
EACH single thing that comes into being in the universe There is
,_ T , • • -n • j -r reason to
affords a ready ground for praising Providence, it one prajse
possesses these two qualities — a power to see clearly the Providence
circumstances of each, and the spirit of gratitude there- tnjng '
with. Without these, one man will fail to see the useful
ness of nature's products and another though he see it
will not give thanks for them. If God had created
colours and, in general, all visible things, but had not
created a faculty to behold them, of what use would they
be ? None at all. If on the other hand He had created
this faculty, but had not created objects of such a nature
as to fall under the faculty of vision, even so of what use
would it be ? None at all. If again He had created both
these, and had not created light, even so there would be
no use in them. Who is it then that has adapted this to The hand
that, and that to this ? Who is it that has fitted the sword "j.^^^
to the scabbard and the scabbard to the sword ? Is there appears in
no one ? Surely the very structure of such finished pro- Q^^re
ducts leads us commonly to infer that they must be the no less
work of some craftsman, and are not constructed at ran
dom. Are we to say then that each of these products art.
points to the craftsman, but that things visible and vision
and light do not ? Do not male and female and the desire
of union and the power to use the organs adapted for it —
do not these point to the craftsman ? But if these things
are so, then the fact that the intellect is so framed that
Man,
created for
self -con
templa
tion, has
higher
faculties
than the
irrational
creatures.
60 Discourses of Epictetus
we are not merely the passive subjects of sensations, but
select and subtract from them and add to them, and by
this means construct particular objects, nay more, that
we pass from them to others which are not in mere
juxtaposition — I say are not these facts sufficient to rouse
men's attention and to deter them from leaving out the
craftsman ? If it be not so, let them explain to us what
it is which makes each of these things, or how it is possible
that objects so marvellously designed should have come
into being by chance and at random ?
Again, Are these faculties found in us alone ? Many
in us alone — faculties which the rational creature had
special need of — but many you will find that we share
with irrational creatures. Do they also then understand
events and things ? No — for using is one thing, and
understanding is another. God had need of them as
creatures dealing with impressions, and of us as dealing
with them and understanding them as well. That is
why it is enough for them to eat and drink and rest and
breed, and every function is theirs which each irrational
creature fulfils ; while we, to whom He gave also the
power of understanding, cannot be satisfied with these
functions, but, unless we act with method and order and
consistently with our respective natures and constitutions,
we shall no longer attain to our end. For those whose con
stitutions are different have also differentfunctionsanddif-
ferentends. Thereforethatwhichbyconstitutioniscapable
only of using things, is satisfied to use them anyhow ;
but that which by constitution is capable of understand
ing things as well as using them, will never attain its end,
Book /, Chapter 6 61
unless to use it adds method also. What is my conclusion ?
God makes one animal for eating, and another for service
in farming, another to produce cheese, and others for
different uses of a like nature, for which there is no need
of understanding impressions and being able to distin
guish them ; but He brought man into the world to take
cognizance of Himself and His works, and not only to take
cognizance but also to interpret them. Therefore it is
beneath man's dignity to begin and to end where the
irrational creatures do : he must rather begin where they
do and end where nature has ended in forming us ; and
nature ends in contemplation and understanding and
a way of life in harmony with nature. See to it then
that ye do not die without taking cognizance of these
things.
You travel to Olympia, that you may see the work of
Phidias, and each of you thinks it a misfortune to die
without visiting these sights, and will you have no desire
to behold and to comprehend those things for which
there is no need of travel, in the presence of which you
stand here and now, each one of you ? Will you not realize
then who you are and to what end you are born and what
that is which you have received the power to see ?
' Yes, but there are unpleasant and hard things in life.'
Are there none such at Olympia ? Are you not scorched
with heat ? Are you not cramped for room ? Is not
washing difficult ? Are you not wet through when it is
wet ? Do you not get your fill of noise and clamour and
other annoyances ? Yet I fancy that when you set against
all these hardships the magnificence of the spectacle you
Therefore
he must
use them
to bring
his life
into har
mony with
nature.
Every man
has within
his reach
a spectacle
far greater
than
Olympia,
the spec
tacle of
life.
The
' troubles
of life',
like the
tasks of
Heracles,
are the
school of
man's
faculties.
62 Discourses of Epictetus
bear them and put up with them. And have you not
received faculties, which will enable you to bear all that
happens to you ? Have you not received greatness of
spirit ? Have you not received courage ? Have you not
received endurance ? If I am of a great spirit what
concern have I in what may happen ? What shall shake me
or confound me or seem painful to me ? Instead of using
my faculty for the purpose for which I have received it,
am I to mourn and lament at the events of fortune ?
' Yes, but my rheum flows. '
Slave ! What have you hands for then ? Is it not to
wipe your rheum away ?
' Is it reasonable then that there should be rheum in
the world ? '
Well, how much better it is to wipe your rheum
away than to complain ! What do you think would
have become of Heracles if there had not been a lion,
as in the story, and a hydra and a stag and a boar
and unjust and brutal men, whom he drove forth and
cleansed the world of them ? What would he have done,
if there had been nothing of this sort ? Is it not plain that
he would have wrapped himself up and slept ? Nay to
begin with he would never have been a Heracles at all,
had he slumbered all his life in such ease and luxury ; and
if by any chance he had been, of what good would he have
been ? What use would he have made of his arms and his
might and his endurance and noble heart as well, had not
he been stimulated and trained by such perils and oppor
tunities ?
' Was it his duty then to contrive these occasions for
Book J, Chapter 6 63
himself and to seek means to bring a lion, a boar, or a
hydra into his country ? '
That were madness and folly ; but as they had come
into being and were found in the world these monsters were
of service to display Heracles' powers and to train them.
It is for you then, when you realize this, to look to the If a man
faculties you possess, and considering them to say, ' Zeus, ^1^, he §
send me what trial Thou wilt ; for I have endowments will cease
and resources, given me by Thee, to bring myself honour j^^n"
through what befalls.' Nay, instead, you sit trembling show a
for fear of what may happen, or lamenting, mourning, ^ag
and groaning for what does happen, and then you reproach spirit,
the gods. What else but impiety indeed can attend
upon so ignoble a spirit as yours ? And yet God not only
gave us these faculties, which will enable us to bear all
the issue of events without being humiliated or broken
down by it, but, as became a good king and a true father,
He gave us this gift free from all let or hindrance or
compulsion — nay, He put it wholly in our hands, not
even leaving Himself any power to let or hinder us. Yet
possessing these powers in freedom for your own you
refuse to use them and will not realize what gifts you
have received and from whose hand, but you sit mourning
and grieving, some of you blinded to the giver Himself
and refusing to recognize your benefactor, and some from
meanness of spirit turning to reproaches and complaints
against God. Yet I will show you that you have resources
and endowment to fit you for a noble and courageous
spirit : show me, if you can, what endowments you have
for complaining and reproach.
^4 Discourses of Epictetus
CHAPTER VII
On the use of variable premisses and hypothetical arguments
and the like.1
Logic, like MOST men ignore the fact that the treatment of
other variable premisses and hypothetical arguments and again of
activities, syllogisms that conclude by way of question, and, in a word,
is con- Of an gych arguments is concerned with conduct.2 For
with really, whatever subject we are dealing with, our aim is to
conduct, £nd now the good man may fitly deal with it and fitly be
have towards it. It follows then that either they must say
that the virtuous man will not condescend to question
and must and answer, or that if he does he will take no care to avoid
therefore Behaving lightly and at random in questioning and
ignored answering ; or else, if they accept neither alternative,
by V16 they must admit that we have to investigate those subjects
good man. ' . ,
round which question and answer chiefly turn, lor what
do we promise in a discussion ? To establish what is true,
to remove what is false, to withhold assent in what is
uncertain. Is it enough then merely to learn that this
is so ?
' It is enough.'
Is it enough then for him who wishes not to go wrong
in the use of coin merely to be told why you accept
genuine drachmas and reject spurious ones ?
' It is not enough.'
What then must you acquire besides ? Surely you
He must must have a faculty to test and distinguish genuine
learn to drachmas from spurious. Is it not true then in
Booh 7, Chapter 7
regard to argument also that merely to hear what is said is
not enough ; a man must acquire the faculty to test and
distinguish the true from the false and the uncertain ?
' It must be so.'
This being so, what is required in argument ?
' Accept what follows from the premisses you have duly
granted.'
Here again, is it enough merely to know this ? No, you
must learn how a conclusion follows from the premisses,
and how sometimes one proposition follows from one
other, and sometimes from many together. May we say
then that this faculty too must be acquired by him who is
to behave with good sense in discussion, and who is himself
to prove each point in his demonstration and to follow
the demonstrations of others, and to avoid being led astray
by sophistical arguments, posing as demonstrations ?
' Thus it comes about that we are led to think it really
necessary to discuss and to practise the arguments and
moods which are conclusive.
But note this : there are cases where we have granted
the premisses properly, and such and such a conclusion
follows which, though it follows, is none the less false.
What then is it fitting for me to do ? Must I accept
the false conclusion ? How can I do that ? Must I say I
was wrong in granting the premisses ?
' No, you may not do this either.'
That it does not follow from the premisses granted ?
' No, you may not do this.'
What then is one to do in these circumstances ? May
we not say that just as in order to be in debt it is not
546-241 E
distinguish
true argu -
ments from
false.
But he
must not
accept
conclusions
on pre
misses he
has agreed
to, unless
he still
accepts the
premisses.
66 Discourses of Epictetus
enough merely to borrow, but one must remain a bor
rower and not have paid off the loan, so in order to be
bound to admit an inference it is not enough to have
granted the premisses, but one must abide by having
granted them ? 2
In a word, if they remain to the end as we granted them,
we are absolutely bound to remain by our concessions
and accept what follows the premisses ; if, on the other
hand, they do not remain as they were granted, we are
also absolutely bound to abandon the concession and no
longer to accept what is inconsistent with the premisses;
for since we have abandoned our agreement as to the
premisses, this inference which is drawn no longer con
cerns us or touches us. We must then examine into
premisses of this sort and into such changes and alterations
in them, by which they are changed in the actual process
of question or answer or syllogism or the like, and so
afford occasion to the foolish to be troubled because they
do not see the sequence of the argument. Why must
For care- we so do ? That in this sphere we may do what ^is
ful reason- fjttine by avoiding what is random or confused in
ing is fit
ting for us. argument.
The same And we ought to do the same with hypotheses ^and
care is hypothetical arguments. For it is necessary sometimes
iTregaTd to assume a hypothesis as a step to the next argument.
to hypo- Must we then concede every given hypothesis or not ?
reasoning. And if not every one, which ? 3 And, having conceded it,
must we abide by it once for all and maintain it, or are
we sometimes to abandon it, and are we to accept what
follows from it and reject what conflicts with it ?
Book /, Chapter 7 6j
' Yes.'
But a man says, ' If you accept a hypothesis of what is
possible, I will reduce you in argument to what is impos
sible.'
Will the prudent man refuse to meet him in argument,
and avoid examination and discussion with him ? Nay,
it is just the prudent man who is capable of reasoning The wise
logically and who is expert at questioning and answering, man Wl11
yes and who is proof against deception and sophistry, bewise
Will he then consent to argue, but take no pains to avoid lf he,ls .
, . . , careless in
being careless and casual in argument ? If so, will he not argument.
cease to be the man we consider him to be ? But without
some such training and preparation as I suggest can he
guard the sequence of his argument? Let them show
that he can, and then all these speculation are idle ;
they were absurd and inconsistent with the conception
we have formed of the good man.
Why do we persist in being lazy and indolent and
sluggish, why do we seek excuses to enable us to avoid
toiling early and late to perfect ourselves in logical
theory ?
' Do you call it parricide if I go wrong in logic ? '
Slave, here is no father for you to kill. You ask what
you have done ; you have committed the one error
which was possible in this field. Your answer is the very
one I made myself to Rufus when he rebuked me because
I could not find the one missing step in a syllogism.
' Well,' said I, ' I suppose I have not burnt the Capitol
down ' ; and he answered, ' Slave, the missing step here
is the Capitol.'
Failure in
logic in its
way may
be com
pared to
parricide
68 Discourses of Epictetus
You are not going to tell me, are you, that setting fire
to the Capitol and killing one's father are the only forms
of wrongdoing ? To deal with one's impressions without
thought or method, to fail to follow argument or demon
stration or sophism, in a word, to be unable to see what
concerns himself and what does not in question and answer
— is there no wrongdoing, I ask, in any of these ?
Untrained
persons
cannot
properly
handle
imperfect
any more
than
perfect
syllogisms.
The
reasons
why we do
not devote
more time
to such
training,
are (i) that
we cannot
CHAPTER VIII
That faculties are fraught with danger for the uneducated.
JUST as it is possible to interchange terms which are
equivalent to one another, so and in just as many ways it
is allowable to vary in argument the types of disputative
argument and enthymeme.1 Take for instance this kind of
argument : ' If you borrowed and did not repay, you owe
me the money. You did not borrow without repaying ;
therefore2 you do not owe me the money.' And the
philosopher above all others is the proper person to
handle such arguments with skill. For if enthymeme is
imperfect syllogism, plainly he who is trained in perfect
syllogism would be equally capable in dealing with
imperfect.
Why then, you ask, do we not train ourselves and one
another in this style of argument ? Because even now,
though we do not devote ourselves to training in these
matters and though we are not drawn away, so far as I have
any influence, from cultivating character, nevertheless
we make no advance towards goodness. What should
Book /, Chapter 8 6$
we have to expect then, if we should add this business to spare time
our other employments ? And there is more — not only f™m cul-
r J i tivatmg
should we have less leisure for more necessary things, but character,
we should give uncommon occasion for conceit and
vanity. For the faculty of disputative and plausible (2) Rhe-
reasoning is a powerful one, especially if it should be torical
j , , , . . arguments
developed by training and gam further dignity from tend to
mastery of language. For indeed generally every faculty Puff UP tne
. j i . ignorant,
is dangerous when it comes into the hands of those who
are without education and without real force, for it tends
to exalt and puff them up. For how would it be possible
to persuade the young man who excels in these arguments
that he ought not to become dependent upon them, but
to make them depend upon him ? Instead of this he
tramples under foot all we say to him and walks among
us in a high state of elation, so puffed up that he cannot
bear that any one should remind him how far he has
fallen short and into what errors he has lapsed.
' What do you mean ? Was not Plato a philosopher ? ' Rhetorical
I reply, Was not Hippocrates a physician ? But you Power 1S
' not neces-
see how eloquent Hippocrates was. Was Hippocrates so sary in a
eloquent by virtue of being a physician ? Why then do phllos°-
you mix qualities, which are casually united in the same
persons? Suppose Plato was handsome and strong; ought
I also to set to and strive to become handsome or strong,
as though this were necessary for philosophy, just because
one philosopher was handsome as well ? Will you not
have the discernment to see what makes men philosophers
and what qualities are accidental in them ? Suppose now
I were a philosopher, ought you to become lame f
70 Discourses of Epictetus
Such You ask me, do I then count these faculties as of no
power has effcct ?
its value,
but it is Heaven forbid ! no more than I ignore the faculty of
not man s v;sjon Nevertheless if you ask me what is the true good
end, which ' _ °
is dis- of man, I can only say to you that it lies in a certain disposi-
Pf1,110",, tionof the will3,
of the will.
CHAPTER IX
How one may draw conclusions from the fact that ive are
God's kinsmen.
If we are IF these statements of the philosophers are true, that
of God we ^°d and men are akin, there is but one course open to
are citizens men, to do as Socrates did : never to reply to one who
universe as^s ^s country, ' I am an Athenian ', or, ' I am a Corin
thian ', but ' I am a citizen of the universe.' For why do
you say that you are an Athenian, instead of merely a
native of the little spot on which your bit of a body was
cast forth at birth ? Plainly you call yourself Athenian
or Corinthian after that more sovereign region which
includes not only the very spot where you were born, and
all your household, but also generally that region from
which the race of your forbears has come down to you.
connected When a man therefore has learnt to understand the
the } T t g°vernment of the universe and has realized that there is
frame of nothing so great or sovereign" or all-inclusive as this
d" b§' frame of things wherein men and God are united, and
our son- that from it come the seeds from which are sprung not
abTve'alf3 onl>' my own father or grandfather, but all things that
fear. are begotten and that grow upon earth, and rational
Book /, Chapter 9 71
creatures in particular — for these alone are by nature fitted
to share in the society of God, being connected with Him
by the bond of reason — why should he not call himself
a citizen of the universe and a son of God ? Why should
he fear anything that can happen to him among men ?
When kinship with Caesar or any other of those who are
powerful in Rome is sufficient to make men live in
security, above all scorn and free from every fear, shall
not the fact that we have God as maker and father and
kinsman relieve us from pains and fears ?
' And where am I to find food to eat, if I have nothing ? ' For the
says one. Phi!f
' sopher
Well, what do slaves do when they leave their masters, or depends
what do they rely on ? Do they rely on fields, or servants, on himse •
or silver plate ? No, on nothing but themselves ; never
theless sustenance does not fail them. And shall our
philosopher in his wanderings have to rest his confidence
in others, instead of taking care of himself ? Is he to be
baser and more cowardly than the unreasoning beasts ? For
each one of them is content with itself, and lacks not its
proper sustenance nor the way of life that is naturally
suited to it.
I think that the old man l who sits here to teach you Indeed
ought to devote his skill not to save you from being low- some fear
minded, and from reasoning about yourselves in a low of young
and ignoble spirit, but rather to prevent young men from Conine ufe
arising of the type who, discovering their kinship with the from pride
gods, and seeing that we have these fetters attached to us
in the shape of the body and its possessions and all that sonship.
we find necessary for the course and management of
young
72 Discourses of Epictetus
our life by reason of the body, may desire to fling all these
away as vexatious and useless burdens and so depart to
the gods their kindred.
The And so your teacher and instructor, if he were a true
must warn teacner> should engage in this conflict of argument :
hisyounger You come saying, ' Epictetus, we can bear no longer to
against be bound with the fetters of this wretched body, giving it
this error, meat and drink and rest and purgation, and by reason of
The pleas the body having to adapt ourselves to this or that set of
of the
circumstances. Are not these things indifferent and as
nothing to us, and death no evil thing ? Are we not kins
men of the gods, from whom we have come hither ?
Suffer us to depart to the place whence we have come,
suffer us to be released from these bonds that are fastened
to us and weigh us down. Here are robbers and thieves
and law-courts and so-called kings, who by reason of our
poor body and its possessions are accounted to have
authority 2 over us. Suffer us to show them that they
have authority over nothing.'
Hereupon I answer : Men as you are, wait upon God.
When He gives the signal and releases you from this
service, then you shall depart to Him ; but for the present
be content to dwell in this country wherein He appointed
you to dwell. Short indeed is the time of your dwelling
here, and easy for them whose spirit is thus disposed.
What manner of tyrant or what thief or what law-courts
have any fears for those who have thus set at nought the
body and its possessions ? Stay where you are, and depart
not without reason.' Such should be the answer of the
teacher to his gifted pupils. How different is what we
should be
answered
by the
master's
warning
not to
depart
without
reason.
Book /, Chapter 9 73
see ! There is no life in your master, and no life in you. But too
When you have had your fill to-day, you sit groaning ? ten mere
about the morrow, and how you are to find food. Slave, in master
if you get food, you will have it ; if not, you will depart : or PuPlls>
the door is open. Why do you whine ? What room is cherish
there for tears any more ? What occasion for flattery any j. e £ares
more ? Why should one envy another ? Why should morrow,
he gaze with wonder on them that are rich or powerful,
especially if they be strong and quick to anger ? For what
will they do with us ? We will pay no heed to what
they have power to do, what we really care for they The great
cannot touch. Who, I ask you, will be master over one a "r1
• cannot
who is of this spirit ? touch what
How did Socrates approach these matters ? Surely as you r,ea ^
one should who is convinced of his kinship with the gods, The spirit
' If you tell me,' he says, " we acquit you on condition °f God's
. . kinsmen,
that you discourse no longer as you have done hitherto, asseenin
and that you do not annoy young or old among us ", I shall Socrates,
answer, " It is absurd for you to suppose that, while I am
bound to maintain and guard any post to which your
general appointed me, and should rather die ten thousand
times than abandon it, yet if God has appointed us to
a certain place and way of life we ought to abandon that." '
Here you see a man who is a kinsman of the gods in very is far
truth. But as for us — we think of ourselves as if we were removed
from our
all belly and flesh and animal desire ; such are our fears, fleshly
such our passions ; those that can help us to these ends standards
we flatter, and at the same time fear.
Some one has asked me to write for him to Rome, one The true
who, as the world thought, had had misfortunes ; he had man n s
no one to
plead for
him;
for he can
find in
himself all
that he
needs — a
noble and
lofty
spirit.
74 Discourses of Epictetus
once been famous and rich, and had now lost everything
and was living here. So I wrote for him in a humble
tone. And he read my letter and gave it me back and
said, ' I wanted your help, not your pity.' So, too,
Rufus, to try me, used to say, ' Your master will do this
or that to you ' ; and when I answered him, ' This is the
lot of man ', ' Why then ', said he, ' do I appeal to your
master when I can get everything from you ? ' for,
indeed, it is true that what a man has of himself it is idle
and futile for him to receive from another.4 Am I then,
who can get from myself the gift of a noble and lofty
spirit, to get from you a field or money or office ? Heaven
forbid ! I will not be so blind to my true possessions.
But when a man is mean and cowardly, for him one must
needs write letters as for one that is dead. ' Make us
a present of the corpse of so and so and his miserable quart
of blood.' For indeed such a one is a mere corpse and a
quart of blood and nothing more. If he were anything
more, he would have realized that one man cannot make
another miserable.
CHAPTER X
To those who have spent their energies on advancement in
Rome.
If we IF we had been as earnest and serious about our work
showed as •, j • r> i_ i_ •
much zeal as men m ^ome are about their concerns, we too
as men of might perhaps have achieved something. I know what
Rome we was sa^ to me ^7 a man older than myself who is now
should in charge of the corn-supply l in Rome, when he passed
Book 7, Chapter 10 75-
through here on his way back from exile ; he ran down his achieve
much
more.
former life and made great professions for the future, n
saying that when once he was back he would have no
other interest except to live out the rest of his life in
peace and tranquillity, ' For how little I have still left
me ', said he.
And I said to him, ' You will not do it ; so soon as
you sniff the air of Rome you will forget all your pro
fessions ' ; and I told him that if he got a chance of en
tering the Palace, he would thrust his way in and give
God thanks.
' Epictetus,' he answered, ' if you find me putting one
foot in the Palace, believe what you like of me.'
Well, what did he do? Before he came to Rome, a dis
patch from the Emperor met him, and as soon as he got
it he forgot all he had said and has gone on adding to his
heap ever since. I should like to stand by him now and
remind him of the words he used as he passed through,
and say to him, ' How much more clever a prophet am
I than you ! '
What conclusion do I draw ? Do I say that the creature Man is
man is not to be active ? Heaven forbid ! But what is it actjon
that fetters our faculty of action ? Take myself first : but is
when day comes, I remind myself a little as to what mcj0ience
lesson I ought to read to my pupils. Then in a moment
I find myself saying, ' But what do I really care what sort
of lesson I give to this man or that ? The first thing is
for me to sleep.' And yet how can their business be
compared in importance with ours ? If you attend to
what they are doing you will see the difference. They
The fault
lies partly
with the
teacher
himself,
partly
with the
younp,
whose
interest
reacts on
his.
To an
official
who
asked for
direction,
76 Discourses of Epictetus
do nothing all day long except vote, dispute, de
liberate about a handful of corn or an acre of land, and
petty profits of this sort. Is there any resemblance
between receiving and reading a petition such as this :
' I beg you to let me export a little corn', and a petition
such as, ' I beg you to inquire from Chrysippus how the
universe is governed and what position the rational
creature holds in it ; inquire too who you are and what
is good for you, and what is evil ? ' What have these
petitions in common ? Do both demand the same atten
tion ? Is it equally shameful to neglect one and to neglect
the other ?
What is my conclusion ? Are we elders alone indolent
and sleepy ? Nay, the fault is much rather with you
young men. For indeed, we old folk, when we see young
men playing, are only too eager and ready to join their
play. Much more, if I saw them thoroughly awakened
and eager to share my studies, should I be eager myself to
take my studies seriously too.
CHAPTER XI
On family affection.
WHEN an official came to Epictetus and inquired for
special directions he asked whether he had a wife and
children ; and when the man said, ' Yes ', he asked again,
How do you get on ?
' Miserably ', he said.
What do you mean ? said he ; Men do not marry
II 77
and have children to the end that they may be miserable,
but rather that they may be happy.
' Ah,' said he, ' but I am so miserable about my poor
children, that lately when my daughter was ill and was
thought to be in danger I could not bear to be near her,
but fled away from her, until some one brought me news
that she was well.'
Well, do you think you were right to do it ? Epictetus
' It was natural ', he said.
Nay, said the master, only convince me that it was criterion in
natural, and I will convince you that everything that is "
natural is right. 'natural'.
' All fathers,' he said, ' or most of us, at least, feel like
that.'
I do not deny, said Epictetus, that parents feel so,
but the real question is whether it is right. No doubt
as far as that goes, we must say that even tumours come
into being for the good of the body, and in a word that
error is natural, for nearly all, or most of us at least, are
prone to error. Prove to me then how it is natural.
' I cannot ; ' he said, ' rather do you prove to me how
it is wrong or unnatural.'
He answered, Suppose we were discussing black and
white, what test should we call in to distinguish between
them ?
' The sight ', he said.
What if we were discussing things hot or cold, hard
and soft, what test should we use ?
' Touch.'
Well then, as we are discussing what is natural and Error in
78
Discourses of Epictetus
conduct
is ™°re
serious
than in
of taste
or touch,
But judge
differ5 and
a criterion
is neces-
sary.
The par-
because
here
reason and
right and the opposite, what test would you have us
take ?
' I do not know ', said he.
Look here, it is no great loss perhaps not to know the
proper test for colours and smells, nay, and flavours too,
but do you think it is a small loss to man not to know what
is good and what is evil, what is natural and what is
unnatural ?
' No, the greatest possible loss.'
Tell me now, is everything right which seems noble and
^tt:^n8 to certain people ? To-day, for instance, are the
opinions of Jews and Syrians, Egyptians and Romans, as
tQ food aU of them • h ?
' How can they be ? '
No, I suppose if the Egyptians' views are right the
other nations' must of necessity be wrong ; if the Jews'
opinions are good, other people's must be bad.
' Of course.'
And where there is ignorance, there is also want of
insight and education as to necessary things,
'Yes.'
When once you have realized this, then, said Epicte
tus, you will make this your one interest in the future,
and to this alone devote your mind — to discover the
means of judging what is natural and to use your criterion
to distinguish each particular case as it arises.
For the present I can help you just so far as this in
reSar<^ to w^at 7OU wis^ •' ^° 7OU ^'ink family affection
is natural and good ?
' Of course.'
Book /, Chapter 1 1 79
Again, is it true that affection is natural and good, and affection
i , coincide,
reason not good?
' Certainly not.'
Is there a conflict then between reason and affection?
' I think not.'
If there were a conflict, then, as one of the two is
natural, the other must needs be unnatural ?
' Certainly ', he said.
It follows then that whenever we find reason and affec
tion united in an action, we confidently affirm that it is
right and good.
' Granted ', he said.
Mark what follows. I do not think you will deny that
it is not reasonable to leave one's child when it is ill and
to go away. The only question left for us is to consider
whether it is affectionate.
' Let us consider it then.'
Was it right, I ask, for you, being affectionately dis
posed to your child, to run away and leave her? Is her
mother not fond of the child?
' She is indeed.'
Should the mother then have left her too, or should she
not?
' She should not.'
What of the nurse? Is she fond of the child?
' She is ', he said.
Ought she then to have left her ?
' By no means.'
Again, is not the child's attendant fond of her?
'He is.'
8o
Discourses of Epictetus
The error
was due,
not to
external
causes but
to wrong
judgement.
Ought he then to have gone away and left her? Was
it right that as a consequence the child should be thus left
desolate and helpless because of the great affection of
you its parents and of those about it, or should die in the
hands of those who had no love or care for it?
' Heaven forbid ! '
Once more, it is not fair or reasonable, is it, that a man
should not allow others equally affectionate with himself
to do what, because he is affectionate, he thinks proper
for himself. It is absurd. Tell me, would you have liked,
if you were ill, your relations and every one else, even your
wife and children, to show their affection for you in such
a way as to leave you alone and desolate?
' Certainly not.'
Would you pray to be so loved by your own people, as
to be always left alone by them when you were ill, because
of their exceeding affection, or would you, if it were
a question of being left alone, rather pray, supposing
that were possible, to have the affection of your enemies ?
And if that is so, we are forced to the conclusion that
your conduct was not that of affection.
What reason had you then? Was there nothing which
moved and impelled you to abandon the child? How is
that possible? It must have been the same sort of motive,
which once made a man in Rome cover his eyes when the
horse he had backed was running, and then again when
the horse unexpectedly won made him faint so that he
needed sponges to recover him. What is the motive?
This perhaps is not the moment to define it ; but it is
enough that we should be convinced of this — if what
Book /, Chapter
1 1
philosophers say is sound — that we must not look for it ^/
somewhere outside us, but that it is always one and the
same motive which causes us to do or not to do a thing,
to speak or not to speak, to be elated or depressed, to fly
or to pursue — the very motive which has moved you and
me at this moment, you to come and sit and listen to me,
and me to say what I do. What is the motive? Surely
it is nothing but this — that we are so minded ? 1
' Nothing else.'
And if things had looked different to us, we should still
have done what we were minded to do and nothing else.
So when Achilles mourned, his reason was, not the death
of Patroclus — for another man, when his comrade dies, is
not thus affected — but that he was so minded. So in
your case, you ran away just because you were so minded ;
and again, if you stay it will be because you are so minded.
And now you return to Rome, because you have a mind to
do so ; and if your mind changes, you will not depart
thither. And in a word it is not death nor exile nor pain
nor any such thing which is the cause of our action or
inaction, but thoughts and judgements of the mind.
Are you convinced of this or not ? Whenever
< I am ', he said. weg°
wroiitj
Then on each occasion the effects of an action correspond then we
to the causes. So henceforward whenever we do a thin£ must
3 blame
wrong, we shall blame nothing else but the judgement ourselves.
which led us to do it, and we shall try to remove and
extirpate this even more than we do tumours and abscesses
from the body. And so also we shall assert that our right
actions are determined in the same way ; and we shall
546-241 F
That is
why we
must
become
students—
to study
our judge
ments.
8 2 Discourses of Epictetus
no longer blame neighbour or wife or children as though
they caused evils to befall us, being convinced that, unless
we make up our mind that things are such, we do not
act as though they were, but that whether we judge them
to be so or not depends upon ourselves and not on any
thing outside us.
' True ', he said.
From this day forward then we shall not investigate or
examine the nature or condition of anything else —
whether it be land or slaves or horses or dogs — but only
our own judgements.
' I hope so ', said he.
You see then that you must become a student — that
creature whom all mock at — if you really wish to investi
gate your judgements. That this is not the work of an
hour or a day you fully understand without my telling
you.
CHAPTER XII
On contentment.
There are CONCERNING the gods there are some who say that the
many Divine does not exist, others that it exists but is inactive
views of i-i
the rela- and indifferent and takes no thought for anything, others
t10? of again that God does exist and take thought but only for
gods to i i_ •
the world, great things and things in the heavens, but for nothing
on earth ; and a fourth class say that God takes thought
also for earthly and human things, but only in a general
way, and has no care for individuals : and there is
Book /, Chapter 12 83
a fifth class, to whom belong Odysseus and Socrates,
who say
where'er I move
Thou seest me.
Before all things then it is necessary to examine each of and these
these views, to see whether it is true or untrue. For if we mVst
examine,
there are no gods, how can following the gods be the end because of
of man ? If againthere are gods, but they care for nothing, !-^e'r ^ear"
in that case too what good will it be to follow them? conduct.
But once more, if they exist and do care, yet if there is no
communication between them and men, nay what is
more, if there is none between them and me, to follow
them cannot be a true end. The good man then, having The good
examined into all these questions, has submitted his m?n fV^"
mits his
mind to Him that orders the universe, as good citizens mind to
submit to the law of the city. The man who is under t^ie divine
... govern-
education ought to approach education with this purpose ance, and
in his mind : ' How can I follow the gods in everything, *n ,
finds
and how can I be content with the divine governance freedom.
and how can I become free? ' For he is free, for whom
all things happen according to his will and whom no one
can hinder.
' What then ? Is freedom the same as madness ? ' For free-
Heaven forbid ! frenzy and freedom have nothing in
' not mean
common. personal
' But ', you say, ' I want everything to happen as I think capn<
good, whatever that may be.'
Then you are in a state of madness, you are out of your
mind. Do you not know that freedom is a noble thing,
F 2
but im
plies a
standard,
as in all
arts and
sciences.
Freedom
means
con
forming
the will to
events as
ordained
by God.
We cannot
change
events.
84 Discourses of Epictetus
and worthy of regard ? But merely to want one's chance
thoughts to be realized, is not a noble thing ; it comes
perilously near being the most shameful of all things.
How do we act in matters of grammar ? Do I want to
write Dion's name as I will ? No, I am taught to will the
right way of writing. How is it in music ? Just the same.
So it is universally, in every region of art or science.
Otherwise it would not be worth while to know anything,
if everything conformed itself to each man's will.
Are we to say then that in this sphere alone, the greatest
and most momentous of all, the sphere of freedom, it is
permitted me to indulge chance desires ? By no means :
education is just this— learning to frame one's will in
accord with events. How do events happen ? They
happen as the Disposer of events has ordained them. He
ordained summer and winter, fruitful and barren seasons,
virtue and vice and all such opposites for the.sake of the
harmony of the universe, and gave to each one of us a body
and bodily parts and property and men to associate
with.
Remembering then that things are thus ordained we
ought to approach education, not that we may change
the conditions of life,1 that is not given to us, nor is it good
for us — but that, our circumstances being as they are
and as nature makes them, we may conform our mind
to events.
I ask you, is it possible to avoid men ? How can we ?
Can we change their nature by our society ? Who gives
us that power ? What is left for us then, or what means
do we discover to deal with them ? We must so act as
Book /, Chapter 1 2
to leave them to do as seems good to them, while we
remain in accord with nature.
But you are impatient and discontented ; if you are
alone you call it a wilderness, and if you are with men
you describe them as plotters and robbers, and you find
fault even with your own parents and children and
brothers and neighbours.
Why, when you are alone you ought to call it peace Whether
and freedom and consider yourself the equal of the gods ; in f
when you are in a large company you should not call it or in a
a crowd or a mob or a nuisance, but a high-day and cr°Y we
J ought to
a festival, and so accept all things in a spirit of content. be content.
What punishment is there, you ask, for those who do Discon-
not accept things in this spirit ? Their punishment is to l
be as they are. Is one discontented with being alone? punish-
Let him be deserted. Is one discontented with his mirnt
prison,
parents ? Let him be a bad son, and mourn his lot. Is
one discontented with his children? Let him be a bad
father.
' Cast him into prison.'
What do you mean by prison? he is in prison already ;
for a man's prison is the place that he is in against his will,
just as, conversely, Socrates was not in prison, for he
chose to be there.
' Am I then to have a maimed leg ? ' Bodily
oil ..... defects are
blave, do you mean to arraign the universe for one no Rrounci
wretched leg ? Will you not make a gift of it to the sum for dis-
of things ? Will you not resign it ? Will you not joyfully
yield it up to Him who gave it ? Will you be vexed and
discontented with the ordinances of Zeus, laid down and
8 6 Discourses of Epictetus
ordained by Him with the Fates who were present at your
birth and span your thread of life ? Do you not know,
what a little part you are compared with the universe?
and in I say this of your body, for in reason you are not inferior
reason to t^e gocjs nor Jess than they : for the greatness of
manlsthe i i i .-11 i •
equal of reason is judged not by length or height but by its
the gods, judgements.
In reason Will you not then set your good in that region where
must find 7°u are equal to the §ods ?
his good. ' Alas, but look what a father and mother I have got ! '
Why ? was it given you on entering life to choose and
say, ' Let such an one marry such an one at this hour,
that I may be born ? ' No such choice was given you :
your parents had to be in existence first, and your birth
had to follow. Of what parents ? Of such as they were.
Well then, as your parents are what they are, is no
Reason resource left you ? Surely if you did not know to what end
him to^fac^ Xou Possess the faculty of vision, you would be unhappy
everything, and miserable if you closed your eyes, when colours were
responsible brought near you ; but are you not more wretched and
only for unhappy still for not knowing that you have a high and
rns^power n°ble spirit to face each occasion as it arises ? The
objects which correspond to the faculty that you have
are brought near you : yet you turn away your faculty
just at the very moment when you ought to keep it
open-eyed and alert. Rather give thanks to the gods
that they set you above those things which they put out
of your power, and made you responsible only for what
is within your control. For your parents they left you
without responsibility ; and the same is true of brothers
Book I, Chapter 12 87
body, property, death, life. For what then did they
make you responsible ? For that which alone is in your
power, the proper handling of your impressions. Why
then do you insist on dragging in these things for which
you are not responsible ? That is to make trouble for
yourself.
CHAPTER XIII
How one may act in all things so as to 'please the gods.
WHEN some one asked Epictetus how one may eat so It is pos-
as to please the gods, he said, If you can eat justly, S1, e to,
and with good feeling and, it may be, with self-control gods in
and modesty, may you not also eat so as to please the gods ? ^ T ,
And when you call for hot water and the slave does not self-con-
answer, or answers and brings it luke-warm, or is not f
to be found in the house, is it not pleasing to the
gods that you should not be angry nor break into
a passion ?
' How then is one to bear with such persons ? '
Slave, will you not bear with your own brother, who Men must
has Zeus for his forefather, and is born as a son of the same
seed as you and of the same heavenly descent ? You other, as
were appointed to a place of superiority like this, and are £ ' °
you straightway going to constitute yourself a despot ?
Will you not remember what you are and whom you
are ruling ? that they are kinsmen, born your brothers,
children of Zeus ?
' But I have bought them, and they have not bought
88
Discourses of Epictetus
God be
holds a
man's
every act
because
the uni
verse is
one,
for our
minds are
portions
of God's
being.
Do you see where your eyes are looking ? You are
looking at the earth, at what is lowest and basest \ at
these miserable laws of the dead, and you regard not the
laws of the gods.
CHAPTER XIV
That God beholds all men.
WHEN one asked him how a man may be convinced
that every one of his acts is seen by God, Do you not
think, he said, that all things are united together ?
' I do ', he said.
Again, do you think that things on earth feel the
influence of things in heaven ?
'I do ', he said.
Whence comes it that in such perfect order as at
God's command, when He bids the plants to flower,
they flower, when He bids them grow they grow,
when He bids them to bear fruit, they bear, when to
ripen, they ripen ; when again He bids them drop their
fruit, they drop it, and when to let fall their leaves,
they let them fall, and when He bids them gather them
selves up * and be still and take their rest, they are still
and take their rest ? Whence is it that as the moon
waxes and wanes and as the sun draws near and departs
afar we behold so great a change and transformation
of things on the earth ? If the plants then and our
own bodies are so closely bound up with the universe,
and so share its affections, is it not much more so with
our minds ? And if our minds are so bound up with God
and in such close touch with Him as being part and portion
Book /, Chapter 14 89
of His very being, does not God perceive their every
movement as closely akin to Him ?
Consider this : you, a man, have power to reflect on If man can
the divine governance and on each divine operation as
well as upon things human, you have the faculty of being and corn-
moved in your senses and your intelligence by countless
objects, sometimes assenting, sometimes rejecting, God be-
sometimes doubting ; you guard in your own mind these , •
many impressions derived from so many and various
objects, and moved by them you conceive thoughts
corresponding to those objects which have first impressed
you, and so from countless objects you derive and main
tain one after another the products of art and memo"--.
All this you do, and is God not able to behold ail
things and be present with all and to have some communi
cation with all ? Why, the sun is able to illuminate so
large a part of the universe, and to leave unilluminated
only so much as the shadow which the earth makes can
cover : and cannot He who has created the sun itself,
and who makes it to revolve — a small part of Himself
as compared with the whole — has not He, I say, the
power to perceive all things ?
' But ', says one, ' I cannot comprehend all these things Man is not
at once.' flufin
faculty to
Of course no one tells you that in faculty you are equal Zeus, but
to Zeus.2 Nevertheless He has set by each man his he ha^ a
. guardian
genius 3 to guard him, and committed each man to genius,
his genius to watch over, aye and a genius which sleeps WP°'.S
not and is not to be beguiled. To what other guardian, him.
better or more attentive, could He have committed 4
90 Discourses of Epictetus
each one of us ? Therefore, when you close your doors
and make darkness within, remembe never to say that
you are alone : you are not alone, God is within, and
your genius. What need have they of light to see what
you are doing ? To th's God you ought to swear allegiance
from the first as the soldiers swear to Caesar. They
are paid servants, yet they swear that they will put the
safety of Caesar above all things : and shall you not
swear too, who have been counted worthy of so many
and so great blessings, or having sworn shall you not
To God keep your oath ? And what shall your oath be ? Never
he must to disobey, never to accuse, never to find fault with any
L3.K.C 3.11
oath like of God's gifts, never to let your will rebel, when you
the soldier, have to jo or to bear what necessity demands. Can
oath to the soldier's oath be compared with ours ? The soldiers
respect swear to respect no man above Caesar, but we to
himself.
respect ourselves first of all.' 5
CHAPTER XV
What philosophy professes.
Philosophy WHEN a man consulted Epictetus how to persuade his
brother to be angry with him no longer, he replied,
control ' Philosophy does not promise to secure to man anything
external outside him. If it did it would be admitting something
No man beyond its subject-matter. For as wood is the material
can inter- dealt with by the carpenter, bronze by the statuary, so
fere with ......
another's tne subject-matter of each man s art ot living is his own
art of life- What are we to say then of your brother's life ?
living.
Book /, Chapter i y 91
That again is the concern of his art of living : to yours
it is a thing external, like land, health, good repute.
Philosophy makes no promises about such things.
' In all circumstances ' (says philosophy) ' I will keep the
Governing Principle l in accord with nature.'
Whose Governing Principle ?
1 His, in whom I am.'
How then am I to prevent my brother from being
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 consulted him said, ' What I am In conduct
looking for is this — how I may be in accord with nature, ^n £
even though he be not reconciled with me ', he replied, the natural
No great thing comes suddenly into being, any more wor ^e
than a cluster of grapes or a fig. If you say to me now, pect not
'I want a fig', I shall answer that it needs time. Let it rfpl
flower first, then put forth its fruit and then ripen, but slow
I say then, if the fig tree's fruit is not brought to perfec- Srowt •
tion suddenly in a single hour, would you gather fruit of
men's minds so soon and so easily ? I tell you, you must
not expect it.
CHAPTER XVI
On Providence.
MARVEL not that the other creatures have their bodily The other
needs supplied — not only meat and drink, but a bed to cre^ures>
lie on — and that they want no shoes nor rugs nor clothes, man, have
while we want all these things. For it would not have , '^i
been a good thing that these creatures, born not for wants
supplied
92
Discourses of Epictetus
We ought
th^ksf
this and
provi-
We may
the hair
given man
., i"1
from
themselves but for service, should have been created
liable to wants. Consider what it would be for us to
have to take thought not only for ourselves but for
sheep and asses, how they were to dress and what shoes
they were to put on, and how they should find meat and
drink. But just as soldiers when they appear before their
general are ready shod, and clothed and armed, and it
would be a strange thing indeed if the tribune had to
go round and shoe or clothe his regiment, so also nature
has made the creatures that are born for service ready
and prepared and able to dispense with any attention.
So one small child can drive sheep with a rod.
Yet we forbear to give thanks that we have not to
Pay tke same attention to them as to ourselves, and
proceed to complain against God on our own account.
l declare> b7 Zeus and a11 the g°ds' one single fact of
nature would suffice to make him that is reverent and
grateful realize the providence of God : no great matter,
I mean ; take the mere fact that milk is produced from
grass and cheese from milk and wool from skin. Who is
it that has created or contrived these things ?
' No one ', he says.
Oh, the depth of man's stupidity and shamelessness !
Come, let us leave the chief works of nature, and behold
what she works by the way. Is anything more useless
than the hairs upon the chin ? Did she not use even
these in the most suitable way she could ? Did she not
by these means distinguish male and female ? Does
not the nature of each one of us cry aloud from afar,
' I am a man : on these terms approach me and address
Book /, Chapter \6 93
me ; seek nothing else. Behold the signs.' Again, in
women nature took the hair from their face, even as
she mingled in their voice a softer note. What ! You
say the creature ought to have been left undistinguished
and each of us to have proclaimed, ' I am a man ' ? Nay,
but how noble and comely and dignified is this sign,
how much more fair than the cock's crest, how much
more magnificent than the lion's mane ! Therefore we
ought to preserve the signs God has given ; we ought
not to abandon them, nor, so far as in us lies, to confound
the sexes which have been distinguished.
Are these the only works of Providence in us ? Nay, For this
what words are enough to praise them or bring them -fts we
home to us ? If we had sense we ought to do nothing ought to
else, in public and in private, than praise and bless God
and pay Him due thanks. Ought we not, as we dig and
plough and eat, to sing the hymn to God ? ' Great is God
that He gave us these instruments wherewith we shall
till the earth. Great is God that He has given us hands,
and power to swallow, and a belly, and the power to grow
without knowing it, and to draw our breath in sleep.'
At every moment we ought to sing these praises and above
all the greatest and divinest praise, that God gave us the
faculty to comprehend these gifts and to use the way
of reason.
More than that : since most of you are walking in
blindness, should there not be some one to discharge
this duty and sing praises to God for all ? What else
can a lame old man as I am do but chant the praise of
God ? If, indeed, I were a nightingale I should sing as a
94
Discourses of Epictetus
nightingale, if a swan, as a swan : but as I am a rational
creature I must praise God. This is my task, and I do
it : and I will not abandon this duty, so long as it is
given me ; and I invite you all to join in this same song.
Logic is
necessary.
If it be
urged that
moral pro
gress is
more
pressing,
the answer
is that
logic is a
necessary
test and
condition
of sound
knowledge.
CHAPTER XVII
That the processes of logic are necessary.
SINCE it is reason which makes 1 all other things articu
late and complete, and reason itself must be analysed
and made articulate, what is it that shall effect this ?
Plainly, reason itself or something else. That something
else either is reason or it will be something superior
to reason, which is impossible. If it is reason, who again
will analyse that reason ? For if it analyses itself, so
can the reason with which we started. If we are going to
call in something else, the process will be endless and
unceasing.
' Yes,' says one, ' but the more pressing need is not
logic but the discipline of men's thoughts and feelings', 2
and the like.
If you want to hear about moral improvement, well
and good. But if you say to me, ' I do not know whether
you argue truly or falsely ', and if I use an ambiguous
word and you say to me ' distinguish ', I shall grow
impatient and say to you, ' this is the more pressing need.'
It is for this reason,3 I suppose, that men put the processes
of logic in the forefront, just as we put the testing of
the measure before the measuring of the corn. And
Book /, Chapter 17 9 y
if we do not determine first what is the bushel and what
is the scale, how shall we be able to measure or weigh
anything ? So in the sphere of thought if we have not
fully grasped and trained to perfection the instrument
by which we judge other things and understand other
things, shall we ever be able to arrive at accurate know
ledge ? Of course, it is impossible.
' Yes,' they say, ' but the bushel is a mere thing of Logic
wood and bears no fruit.' ^
True, but it can measure corn. or test of
' The processes of logic, too, are unfruitful.' terms, &c.
This we will consider presently : but even if one
should concede this, it is enough that logic has the power
to analyse and distinguish other things and in fact, as
one might say, has the power to weigh and measure.
Who asserts this ? Is it only Chrysippus and Zeno and
Cleanthes ? Does not Antisthenes agree ? 4 Why, who
is it that has written, ' The beginning of education is
the analysis of terms ' ? Does not Socrates too say the
same ? Does not Xenophon write of him that he began
with the analysis of terms, to discover what each
means ?
Is this then what you call great and admirable — to But it is
understand or interpret Chrysippus ? Nay, no one
says that. What is admirable then ? To understand thing to
the will of Nature. Very well : do you understand ja t
it of yourself ? If so, what more do you need ?
For if it is true that all error is involuntary and
you have learnt the truth, you must needs do rightly
hereafter.
9 6 Discourses of Epictetus
But who ' But ', you may say, ' I do not understand the will of
shall in- XT ,. ,
terpret Nature"
Nature ? Who then expounds it ? They say ' Chrysippus.'
usor I come and inquire what this interpreter of Nature
his com- says. I begin not to understand what he means and
' I seek some one to interpret. The interpreter says,
' Let us examine the sense of this phrase, as if it were
Latin.'
The inter- Why, pray, should the interpreter put on airs ? Even
Nature is Chrysippus has no right to do so, if he is only expounding
of no good tne wiU of Nature, and does not follow it himself : how
follows much less his interpreter. For we have no need of
Nature — Chrysippus for his own sake, but only to enable us to
thesu- follow Nature : just as we have no need, for himself, of
preme end. the priest 5 who offers sacrifice, but because we think
that through him we shall understand the signs which
the gods give of the future, nor do we need the sacrifice
for itself, but because through it the sign is given, nor
do we marvel at the crow or the raven but at God who
gives His signs by them.
The lesson So I come to this interpreter and priest 5 and say,
learnt from ' Examine the victim's flesh to see what sign is given
the Divine me.' He takes and opens the flesh and interprets, ' Man,
freedom 7OU nave a w^ unhindered and unconstrained by nature.
of man This is written here in the flesh of the sacrifice. I will
in assent. , ....,,.,, .
show you the truth of it first in the sphere of assent.
Can any one prevent you from agreeing to what is true ?
No one. Can any one compel you to accept the
false ? No one. Do you see that in this sphere your
faculty is free from let and hindrance and constraint and
Bock /, Chapter 17 97
compulsion ? Is it any different in the spher of will and
impulse ? What, I ask, can overcome impulse except in will
another impulse ? And what can overcome the will to and
.,, . . impulse,
get or will to avoid except another will to get or to
avoid ?
'If he threatens me with death,' one says, 'he compels
me.' Compul-
No, it is not what he threatens you with which com- sion can'
1 not be put
pels you, but your decision that it is better to do what on man
you are bidden than to die. Once more then it is your ^m ^V
own judgement which compels you — that is, will puts his own
pressure on will. For if God had so created that portion of Judgement
tj. . . can com-
His own being which He has taken from Himself and given pel him.
to us, that it could suffer hindrance or compulsion from God could
another, He would cease to be God and to care for us as not,have
made man
He must needs do. ' This ', says the priest, ' is what I find who shares
in the sacrifice : this is God's sign to you : if you will, Hls.nature
' ' ' subject
you are free : if you will, you will blame no one, you to corn-
will accuse no one : everything shall be in accordance Pulsion-
with your own mind and the mind of God.'
This is the prophecy which draws me to consult this
seer and philosopher, and his interpretation makes me
admire not him but the truths which he interprets.
546.24 I
9 8 Discourses of Epictctus
CHAPTER XVIII
That we should not be angry at men's errors.
All action IF what philosophers say is true, that in all men
source in action starts from one source, feeling, as in assent it is
feeling, and the feeling1 that a thing is so, and in denial the feeling
we^must6 that ^ *s not so' yes' ^7 Zeus, and in withholding
not be judgement, the feeling that it is uncertain : so also
theerring imPu^se towards a thing is originated by the feeling
multitude, that it is fitting, and will to get a thing by the feeling
that it is expedient for one, and it is impossible to judge
one thing expedient and will to get another, and to judge
one thing fitting and be impelled to another. If all
this be true, why are we angry with the multitude ?
' They are thieves ', he says, ' and robbers.'
What do you mean by thieves and robbers ?
' They are gone astray and know not what is good and
what is evil.'
They only Ought we then to be angry with them or to pity
need to see tjiem ? Only show them their error and you will see how
their error, ' '
to desist, they desist from their faults. But if their eyes are not
opened, they regard nothing as superior to their own
judgement.
To put ' What ! ' you say. ' Ought not this robber and this
death Ts as adulterer to be put to death ? '
inhuman Nay, say not so, but rather, ' Should I not destroy
to death^ ^^ man w^° *s *n error an^ delusion about the greatest
the blind matters and is blinded not merely in the vision which
deaf6 distinguishes white and black, but in the judgement
Book /, Chapter i 8 99
which distinguishes good and evil ? ' If you put it this
way, you will recognize how inhuman your words are ;
that it is like saying, ' Should I not kill this blind man,
or this deaf one ? ' For if the greatest harm that can
befall one is the loss of what is greatest, and a right
will is the greatest thing in every one, is it not enough
for him to lose this, without incurring your anger
besides ? Man, if you must needs harbour unnatural Rather
feelings at the misfortune of another, pity him rather
than hate him ; give up this spirit of offence and hatred :
do not use these phrases which the backbiting multitude
use, 'These accursed and pestilent fools '.
Very well. How are you suddenly converted to
wisdom ? What an angry temper you show ! 2
Why then are we angry ? Because we admire the We are
material things of which they rob us. For only cease to causg we
admire your clothes, and you are not angry with him set store
who steals them : cease to admire your wife's beauty, CQO(JS
and you cease to be angry with the adulterer. Know that
the thief and adulterer have no place among things
that are your own, but only among things that are
another's and beyond your power. If you let them alone If we
and count them as nothing you have no one to be angry l|n?r-e a
with any more. But as long as you admire these things not ours,
you must be angry with yourself rather than with them. £*";
For, look you, you have fine clothes, your neighbour place,
has none : you have a window, you wish to air them. He
does not know what is the true good of man, but
fancies, as you do too, that it is to have fine clothes.
Is he not to come then and carry them off ? Why,
G 2
ioo Discourses of Epictetus
if you show a cake to greedy men, and gobble it down
all to yourself, do you expect them not to snatch at it ?
Do not provoke them, do not have a window, do not air
your clothes.
If your For my part, yesterday I had an iron lamp beside
iron lamp m household gods, and hearing a noise I rushed to
is stolen, ' . , ~ T
buy one the window. I found the lamp had been carried on.
of earthen- reasonecl witn myself, that the man who took it yielded
to some plausible feeling. What do I conclude ? To-
A man's morrow, I say, you will find one of earthenware. The
losses are truth js a man loses only what he has. ' I have lost my
limited to , , , ,
his posses- cloak.' Yes, for you had one. I have got a headache.
sions. Have you a horn-ache too ? Why then are you vexed ?
Your losses and your pains are concerned only with what
you possess.
The tyrant ' But the tyrant will chain me.'
cannot rob Yes, your leg.
you of .
your will. 'But he will cut off.'
What ? Your neck. But what will he fail to bind or cut
off ? Your will. That is why the men of old enjoined
' Know thyself.' What follows ? You ought to practise
in small things and go on from them to greater.
' I have a headache.'
Then do not say, ' Ah me ! '
[' I have earache.'
Do not say, ' Ah me ! ' And I do not mean that you
may not groan, but do not groan in spirit.3 And if the
boy brings you your leg-bands slowly, do not cry out
loud and pull a long face and say, ' Every one hates me.'
Who is not likely to hate such an one ?
Book /, Chapter 18 101
Put confidence in these thoughts for the future and
walk erect and free, not relying on bulk of body like an
athlete. For you do not need to be invincible by brute
force like an ass.
Who then is the man who is invincible ? He whom Practise
nothing beyond his will can dismay. So I go on observing jn smau
him in each set of circumstances as if he were an athlete. things,that
He has overcome the first round. What will he do in ^ invin-
the second ? What if it be a hot sun, and the struggle cible in
• • /-M • , all trials,
is in Olympia ?
So it is in life. If you offer a man a trifle of silver, he
will scorn it. What will happen if you offer him a young
maid ? What if you do it in the dark ? What happens
if you ply him with reputation, or abuse, or praise,
or death ? All these he can conquer. What will he do
if he is wrestling in the hot sun, I mean, if he has drunk
too much ? What if he is in a frenzy, or in sleep ?
The man who can overcome in all these circumstances
is what I mean by the invincible athlete.
CHAPTER XIX
How one should behave towards tyrants.
IF a man possesses some advantage, or thinks he does The
though he does not, he is bound, if he be uneducated,
to be puffed up because of it. The tyrant, for instance, merely
< T • i_ • r 11 5 external.
says, 1 am mightiest of all men.
Well, and what can you give me ? Can you enable me
to get what I will to get ? How can you ? Can you avoid
He is not
respected
as one to
be ad
mired and
imitated.
What
disturbs
a man is
not the
tyrant's
body
guard but
his own
judge
ments.
i o 2 Discourses of Epictetus
what you will to avoid, independent of circumstances ?
Is your impulse free from error ? How can you claim
any such power ?
Tell me, on shipboard, do you put confidence in your
self or in the man who knows ? And in a chariot ?
Surely in him who knows. How is it in other arts ?
Exactly the same. What does your power come to then ?
' All men pay me attention.'
Yes, and I pay attention to my platter and work it
and polish it and I fix up a peg for my oil-flask. Does
that mean that these are superior to me ? No, but they
do me some service, and for this reason I pay them
attention. Again : do I not pay attention to my ass ?
Do I not wash his feet ? Do I not curry him ? Do you
not know that every man pays regard to himself, and to
you only as to his ass ? For who pays regard to you as
a man ? Show me. Who wishes to become like you ?
Who regards you as one like Socrates to admire and
follow ?
' But I can behead you.'
Well said. I forgot, of course, one ought to pay you
worship as if you were fever or cholera, and raise an altar
to you, like the altar to Fever in Rome.
What is it then which disturbs and confounds the
multitude ? Is it the tyrant and his guards ? Nay,
God forbid ! It is impossible for that which is free by
nature to be disturbed or hindered by anything but
itself. It is a man's own judgements which disturb
him. For when the tyrant says to a man, ' I will chain
your leg,' he that values his leg says, ' Nay, have mercy,'
Book /, Cbapt 19 103
but he that values his will says, ' If it seems more profit
able to you, chain it.'
' Do you pay no heed ? '
No, I pay no heed.
' I will show you that I am master.'
How can you ? Zeus gave me my freedom. Or do
you think that he was likely to let his own son be enslaved ?
You are master of my dead body, take it.
' Do you mean that when you approach me, you pay
no respect to me ? '
No, I only pay respect to myself : if you wish me to
say that I pay respect to you too, I tell you that I do
so, but only as I pay respect to my water-pot.
/* This is not mere self-love : for it is natural to man, as Man, like
to other creatures, to do everything for his own sake ; features
for even the sun does everything for its own sake, and in acts for
a word so does Zeus himself. But when he would be J^s^but
called ' The Rain-giver ' and ' Fruit-giver ' and ' Father to achieve
of men and Gods ', you see that he cannot win these enSdtrmuSt
names or do these works unless he does some good to serve the
the world at large : and in general he has so created the ^°tmmi
nature of the rational animal, that he can attain nothing
good for himself, unless he contributes some service to
the community. So it turns out that to do everything
for his own sake is not unsocial. For what do you
expect ? Do you expect a man to hold aloof from himself He cannot
and his own interest ? No : we cannot ignore the one 1!
principle of action which governs all things — to be at terest ; he
• i . i i must seek
unity with themselves. t ^e at
What follows ? When men's minds harbour wrong unity with
himself.
Regard
for tyrants
and their
courtiers
arises from
false
notions
about
external
things.
Men give
thanks for
office in
stead of
for right
will and
natural
imnulse.
If you
want a
crown, let
it be a
104. Discourses of Epictetus
opinions on things beyond the will, counting them good
and evil, they are bound to pay regard to tyrants. Would
that it were only tyrants, and not chamberlains too !
How can a man possibly grow wise of a sudden, when
Caesar appoints him to the charge of the privy ? How
is it we straightway say, ' Felicio has spoken wisely
to me ' ? I would fain have him deposed from the
dung-heap, that he may seem foolish to you again.
Epaphroditus had a shoemaker, whom he sold because
he was useless : then by some chance he was bought by
one of Caesar's officials, and became Caesar's shoemaker.
If you could have seen how Epaphroditus honoured him.
' How is my good Felicio, I pray you ? ' Then if
some one asked us, ' What is your master doing ? ' the
answer was, ' He is consulting Felicio about something.'
What, had he not sold him for useless ? Who has sudden
ly made a wise man of him ? This is what comes of
honouring anything outside one's will.
He has been honoured with a tribuneship. All who
meet him congratulate him ; one kisses his eyes, another
his neck, his slaves kiss his hands. He comes into his
house and finds lamps being lighted. He goes up to
the Capitol and offers sacrifice. Who, I ask you,
eve i- offered sacrifice in gratitude for right direction of
the will or for impulse in accordance with nature ?
For we give thanks to the gods for what we think our
good !
To-day one spoke to me about the priesthood of
Augustus. I told him, ' Fellow, leave the thing alone ;
you will spend a great deal on nothing.'
Book 7, Chapter 19 105-
' Well, but those who draw up contracts l will record plain
crown of
my name. roses<
Can you be there when men read it and say to them,
' That is my name,' and even supposing you can be
there now, what will you do if you die ?
' My name will remain.'
Write it on a stone and it will remain. But who will
remember you outside Nicopolis ?
' But I shall wear a golden crown.'
If you desire a crown at all, take a crown of roses and
wear that : you will look smarter in that.
CHAPTER XX
How reason has the faculty of taking cognizance of itself .
EVERY art ; and faculty has certain principal things x Reason is
of which it is to take cognizance. Wrhen therefore the r16 ° ^
faculty itself is of like kind with the objects of which that can
it takes cognizance, it must of necessity have power to ta .
. . . . ... cognizance
take cognizance of itself : when it is of unlike kind, it of itself.
cannot take cognizance of itself. For instance, the
shoemaker's art is concerned with hides, but itself is
absolutely different from the material of hides : for this
reason it does not take cognizance of itself. Grammar
again is concerned with written speech : is it then
written speech itself ? Certainly not : therefore it
cannot take cognizance of itself.
For what purpose then have we received reason from
nature ?
rod Discourses of Epictetus
That we may deal with impressions aright.
What then is reason itself ?
A system framed from impressions of a certain kind.2
Thus it naturally has the power to take cognizance of itself.
Again, sagacity 3 has been given us. To take cognizance
of what ?
Things good and bad and indifferent.
What is it then itself ?
Good.
And what is folly ?
The philo- Bad. Do you see then that of necessity sagacity has the
sopher has pOwer of taking cognizance of itself and its opposite ?
pressions Therefore the primary and highest task of the philosopher
just as the -g to test impressions ancl distinguish them and to make
assayer r °
tests the use of none which is untested. Consider how we have
rrency. invented an art to test the currency, in which we are
admitted to have some interest. Look how many means
the assayer uses to test the coin — sight, touch, smell,
finally hearing : he breaks the penny and attends to the
sound, and is not content with hearing its note once,
but by much attention gets an ear for music.
Thus, where we think it makes a serious difference
to us whether we are right or wrong, we take great
pains to distinguish the possible sources of error, and yet
when we have to do with our Governing Principle itself,
poor thing, we gape and sleep and are ready to accept any
impression that comes : for we do not notice our loss.
But most When you wish, therefore, to realize how little con-
not'take cerned 7OU are about good and evil, and how eager
the trouble about things indifferent,4 consider how you regard
Book /, Chapter 20 107
physical blindness on the one hand, and mental delusion to learn
on the other, and you will recognize that you are far from .ow ^ ,
having a proper feeling in regard to things good and evil, good and
' Yes, but it needs much preparation and much toil '
j.i, We are
and study.' told that
What of that ? Do you expect that a brief study will it requires
enable you to acquire the greatest art ? Yet the principal but tne
doctrine of philosophers itself is brief enough. If you main
will learn it, read Zeno's words and you will see. For js short-
it is no long matter to say man's end is to follow the enough,
gods, and the essence of good is the power of dealing
rightly with impressions.
'Tell us then what is "God", and what is " im- Still, it
pression ", and what is nature in the individual, and takes time
..... to analyse
what in the universe . ourno-
That is a long story. tions, and
...,„. iij ,1 n to confute
Again, it rLpicurus should come and say, that the good fa]se doc.
must be in the flesh, that too means a long discussion ; trine, such
, , . . .. as that of
it means we must be taught what is the commanding Epicurus.
faculty in us, what constitutes our substantial and true
nature. If it is not probable that the good of the snail
is in the shell, is it probable that man's good is in his
body ? Take yourself, Epicurus. What is the more
masterful faculty you possess ? What is it in you which
deliberates, which examines everything, which examines
the flesh itself and decides that it is the principal thing ?
Why do you light a lamp and toil for us, and write such
big volumes ? Is it that we may not be ignorant of
the truth ? Who are we ? What concern have we with
you ? So the argument becomes a long one..
i o 8 Discourses of Epictetus
A man's
true end
is to be in
harmony
with
Nature.
To seek
admiration
is to accept
the opinion
of mad-
CHAPTER XXI
To those who wish to be admired.
WHEN a man has his proper station in life, he does not
hanker after what is beyond him.
What is it, man, that you wish to have ?
' I am content if I am in accord with Nature in what
I will to get and will to avoid, if I follow Nature in impulse
to act and to refrain from action, in purpose, and design
and assent.'
Why then do you walk about as if you had swallowed
a poker ?
' I would fain that they who meet me should admire
me, and cry aloud, " What a great philosopher" ! '
Who are these by whom you wish to be admired ?
Are not these the men whom you generally describe as
mad ? What do you want then ? Do you want to be
admired by madmen ?
Primary
concep
tions are
common
to all,
CHAPTER XXII
On primary conceptions}-
PRIMARY conceptions are common to all men, and one
does not conflict with another. Who among us, for
instance, does not assume that the good is expedient
and desirable and that we ought in all circumstances
to follow and pursue it ? Which of us does not assume
that the just is noble and becoming ?
Book /, Chapter 22 109
At what moment then does conflict arise ? It arises but con-
, .. . , . . , flict arises
in the application or primary conceptions to particular jn ^^
facts ; when for instance one says, ' He has done well : applica-
he is brave,' and another, ' Nay, he is out of his mind.'
Hence arises the conflict of men with one another. Such Such is
is the conflict between Tews and Syrians and Egyptians ^e conflict
' . °f racial
and Romans — not the question whether holiness must customs
be put before all things and must in all circumstances
be pursued, but whether it is holy or unholy to eat of
swine's flesh. Such you will find is the conflict between or of
Agamemnon and Achilles. Call them to come forward.
What do you say, Agamemnon ? Do you say that non and
what is right and noble ought not to be done ?
' Of course it ought.'
And what do you say, Achilles ? Do you not approve
of doing what is noble ?
' Nay, I approve of it above all things.'
Now apply these primary notions : and here the
conflict begins. One says, ' I ought not to give back
Chryseis to her father.' The other says, ' Nay, you ought.'
Certainly one or other of them wrongly applies the primary
notion of right. Again one says, ' Well, if I must give
back Chryseis, I must take the prize from one of you ' :
the other says, ' What, take away my beloved ? ' ' Yes,
yours,' he says. ' Am I alone then to be the loser ' ?
' But am I alone to have nothing ? ' So a conflict arises.
In what then does education consist ? In learning Education
to apply the natural primary conceptions to particular |^.^jns m
occasions in accordance with nature, and further to how to
distinguish between things in our power and things not apP ^ Pn'
I 10
Discourses of Epictetus
mary con
ceptions,
and to dis
tinguish
what is in
our power
from what
is not.
If we place
' the good '
among
things not
in our
power, we
shall fail
in conduct,
and we
shall not
recognize
in Zeus
a Saviour.
in our power. In our power are will and all operations
of the will, and beyond our power are the body, the parts
of the body, possessions, parents, brothers, children,
country, in a word — those whose society we share. Where
then are we to place ' the good ' ? To what class of
things shall we apply it ?
' To what is in our power '.
Does it follow then that health and a whole body, and
life are not good, nor children, parents, and country ?
No one will bear with you if you say that. Let us
then transfer the name ' good ' to this class of things.
Is it possible for a man to be happy if he is injured and
fails to win good things ?
' It is impossible.'
Can he also find the proper way to live with his fellows ?
Nay, how is it possible ? For instance, I incline by
nature to my true interest 2. If it is my interest to have
a field, it is also my interest to take it away from my
neighbour : if it is my interest to have a robe, it is my
interest also to steal it from the bath. This is the source
of wars, factions, tyrannies, plots.
Again, how shall I be able to observe what is fitting
towards Zeus, for if I am injured or unfortunate, he
heeds me not ? So one hears, ' What have I to do with
him, if he cannot help me ? ' and again, ' What have
1 to do with him, if he wills that I should be as I am
now ? ' It follows that I begin to hate him. Why then
do we build temples and make images to Zeus as if he
were an evil genius, as if he were Fever ? How can we
give him any more the name Saviour, Rain-giver, and
Booh /, Chapter 22 111
Fruit-giver ? Surely if we place the true nature of the
good in outward things, all these consequences follow.
What are we to do then ? This is the search to be
notbedis-
made by the true student of philosophy, who is in travail couraged
with truth. [These are his thoughts :] ' I do not see by ^he
what is good and what evil. Am I not mad ? 3 I am.' wjse, but
But if I put ' the good ' in the region of things that ,
my will controls, every one will laugh at me. Some jn the
grey-haired old man will arrive, with many gold rings region of
on his fingers : then he will shake his head and say,
' Listen to me, my child : you must study philosophy,
but you must keep a cool head too. All that talk is
folly. You learn the syllogism from philosophers, but
you know better than the philosophers what you ought
to do.'
Fellow, why do you rebuke me then, if I know it ?
What am I to say to this slave ? If I am silent, he
bursts with anger. One ought to say, ' Pardon me as
you would pardon lovers. I am not my own master.
I am mad.'
CHAPTER XXIII
Against Epicurus.
EPICURUS understands as well as we do that we are Epicurus
by nature social beings, but having once placed our good '? mcon'
. . . . . sistent,
not in the spirit but in the husk which contains it he admitting
cannot say anything different. On the other hand he * w? ,
. . are social
firmly grasps the principle that one must not admire beings,
112
Discourses of Epictetus
but advis
ing men
not to
bring up
children,
nor enter
into
politics.
The lower
animals
teach us
a lesson of
affection
for chil
dren.
nor accept anything which is severed from the nature
of the good : and he is quite right.
How can we be social beings,1 if (as you say) we have no
natural affection for our offspring ? Why do you advise
the wise man not to bring up children ? Why are you
afraid that they may bring him into troubles ?
Does the mouse he rears indoors cause him trouble ?
What does he care then, if a tiny mouse begins crying
in his house ? 2 But he knows that if once a child is
born, it will not be in our power not to love it nor care
for it.
Epicurus says that the man who is wise does not enter
into politics, for he knows what sort of things the politician
has to do. Of course if you are going to live among
men as if they were flies, what is to prevent you ? 3
But Epicurus, as though he did not know what natural
affection is, says ' Let us not bring up children.'
If a sheep does not abandon its offspring, nor a wolf,
does a man abandon his ? What would you have us do ?
Would you have us foolish as sheep ? Even they do
not abandon their young. Would you have us savage
as wolves ? Even they do not abandon theirs. Nay,
who takes your advice when he sees his child fallen on
the ground and crying ? Why, I think that if your
father and mother had foreseen that you were going
to talk thus, even then they would not have cast you
away from them.4
Book /, Chapter 24. 113
CHAPTER XXIV
How one should contend against difficulties.
DIFFICULTIES are what show men's character. There- Difficul-
fore when a difficult crisis meets you, remember that you ties are m
are as the raw youth with whom God the trainer is tunityfor
wrestling. trial and
' To what end ? ' the hearer asks.
That you may win at Olympia : and that cannot
be done without sweating for it. To my mind no man's
difficulties ever gave him a finer trial than yours, if only
you will use them for exercise, as the athlete wrestles
with the young man. Even now we are sending you x K we send
to Rome to spy out the land 2 : and no one sends a coward RoSXe
as a spy, for that means that if he but hears a noise or must be no
sees a shadow anywhere, he will come running in confusion coward>
and saying that the enemy are close at hand. So now if
you come and tell us ' The doings in Rome are fearful,
death is terrible, exile is terrible, evil-speaking is terrible,
poverty is terrible : fly sirs, the enemy is at hand ', we
shall say to you, ' Begone, prophesy to yourself, the only
mistake we made was in sending a man like you to spy out
the land '. Diogenes, who was sent scouting before you, Against
has brought us back a different report : he says, ' Death the,false
is not evil, for it is not dishonour' ; he says, ' Glory is port we set
a vain noise made by madmen '. And what a message
this scout brought us about pain and pleasure and genes,
poverty ! ' To wear no raiment ', he says, ' is better
than any robe with purple hem ' ; ' to sleep on the ground
546.24 1 H
ii4 Discourses of Epictetus
enforced without a bed ', he says, ' is the softest couch.' Moreover
peace of ^e Proves each point by showing his own confidence,
mind, and his tranquillity of mind, his freedom, and withal his body
dition. we^ knit, and in good condition. ' No enemy is near,'
he says, ' all is full of peace.'
What do you mean, Diogenes ?
' See,' he says, ' have I suffered shot or wound or rout ? '
That is the right kind of scouting : but you come back
to us and talk at random. Drop your cowardice and go
back again, and take a more accurate observation.
What am I to do then ?
If you re- What do you do, when you disembark from a ship ?
member to Do ou take the heim and the oars with ? ^ t
take only J J
what is do you take then ? You take what is yours, oil-flask and
y°u wallet. So now if you remember what is yours, you will
no em- never claim what is another's.
The emperor says to you, ' Lay aside your purple
hem.' 3
See, I wear the narrow one.
' Lay aside this also.'
See, I wear the toga only.
' Lay aside the toga.'
See, I take that off too.
' Aye, but you still rouse my envy.'
Then take my poor body, every bit of it. The man to
whom I can throw away my body has no fears for me.
' But he will not leave me as his heir.'
What ? Did I forget that none of these things was
mine. ? In what sense do we call them ' mine ' ? Only
as we call ' mine ' the pallet in an inn. If then the inn-
Book /, Chapter 24 1 1 f
keeper dies and leaves you the pallets, well and good ;
if he leaves them to another, that man will have them,
and you will look for another. If you do not find one Tyrants
you will sleep on the ground, only do so with a good afte^alJ85
cheer, snoring the while, and remembering that it is are tragic
among rich men and kings and emperors that tragedies (j^f8'00
find room, and that no poor man fills a part in a tragedy envied,
except as one of the chorus. But kings begin with
a prelude of good things :
Crown high the halls
and then about the third or fourth act comes —
O Cithaeron, why didst than receive me*?
Poor slave, where are your crowns, where your diadem ?
Your guards avail you nought. Therefore when you
come near to one of those great men remember this,
that you are meeting a tragic character, no actor, but
Oedipus in person.
' Nay, but such a one is blessed, for he has a great
company to walk with him.'
I too join the ranks of the multitude and have a large
company to walk with.
To sum up : remember that the door is open. Do not In the last
be a greater coward than the children, but do as thev do r,esor* the
„,, , • door is
Children, when things do not please them, say, { I will open and
not play any more ' ; so, when things seem to you to ¥ou m^y
.... ' leave the
reach that point, just say, I will not play any more,' and game.
so depart, instead of staying to make moan.
H 2
1 1 6 Discourses of Epictettis
You have
no reason,
then, for
fear or
anxiety.
You need
no other
precept
than that
which Zeus
has given
you
to guard
what is
your own,
but your
own is
yours only
so long as
you use it.
CHAPTER XXV
On the same theme.
IF this is true, and if we are not silly and insincere
when we say that for men good and evil lies in the region
of the will, and that everything else has no concern for
us, why are we disturbed or fearful any more ? No one
has authority1 over the things in which we are interested :
and we pay no regard to the things over which others have
authority. What more have we to trouble about ?
' Nay, but give me commands ' (says the student).
What command should I give you ? Has not Zeus laid
commands upon you ? Has He not given you what is
yours, free from hindrance and constraint, and what
is not yours subject to hindrance and constraint ? What
command then have you brought with you into the world,
and what manner of ordinance ? Guard what is your
own by all means, grasp not at the things of others.
Your good faith 2 is your own. . . . Who can take these
qualities from you ? Who shall hinder you from using
them but yourself ? And how will you do so ? When
you take no interest in what is your own, you lose it and
it ceases to be yours.
When you have instructions and commands from Zeus
such as these, what commands would you have from me ?
Am I greater or more trustworthy than He ? Do you need
any other commands if you keep these of His ? Has He
not laid these commands upon you ? Look at the primary
conceptions. Look at the demonstrations of philosophers.
Book /, Chapter 25 117
Look at the lessons you have often heard, and the words
you have spoken yourself — all you have read, all you
have studied.
How long, then, is it right to keep these commands The limit
and not break up the game ?
As long as it is conducted properly. your own
Here is a king chosen by lot at the Saturnalia : for ^nte. e
they decide to play the game of ' Kings '. He gives which lies
his orders : ' You drink, you mix the wine, you sing, you n w j
go, you come '. I obey, that I may not break up the game, consistent.
' Now believe that you are in evil case.'
I do not believe it, and who will compel me to
believe it ?
Again, we agree to play 'Agamemnon and Achilles'.
He who is given the part of Agamemnon says to me,
' Go to Achilles and drag away Briseis '. I go. ' Come.'
I come.
In fact we must behave in life as we do with hypothe
tical arguments.
' Let us assume it is night.'
Granted.
' What follows ? Is it day ? '
No, for I have already assented to the assumption
that it is night.
' Let us assume that you believe that it is night.'
Granted.
' Now believe that it really is night.'
This does not follow from the hypothesis.
So too it is in life. ' Let us assume that you are un
fortunate.'
1 1 8 Discourses of Epictetus
Granted.
' Are you then unfortunate ? '
Yes.
' What then, are you in misery ? '
Yes.
' Now, believe that you are in evil case.'
This does not follow from the hypothesis : and Another3
forbids me.
How far, then, must we submit to such commands ? 4
So far as is expedient ; that is, so far as I am true to
But some what is becoming and consistent. There are, however,
men can ,
bear much some severe and sour-tempered persons who say, ' I
more than cannot dine with this fellow, and put up with his daily
narrative of how he fought in Mysia. " I told you,
brother, how I mounted the hill : now I begin again
at the siege." ' Another says, ' I would rather dine and
hear him babble on to his heart's content.' It is for you
to compare these estimates : only do nothing in the
spirit of one burdened and afflicted, who believes him-
The door self in evil case : for no one compels you to this. Sup-
the'room Pose some one made the room smoke. If the smoke
becomes is moderate I will stay : if excessive, I go out : for one
•'' must remember and hold fast to this, that the door
is open.
The order comes, ' Do not dwell in Nicopolis.'
I will not.
' Nor in Athens.'
I give up Athens.
' Nor in Rome.'
I give up Rome.
Book 7, Chapter 25- 119
' Dwell in Gyara.'
I dwell in Gyara : but this seems to me a very smoky
room indeed, and I depart where no one shall hinder
me from dwelling : for that dwelling is open to every
man. And beyond the last inner tunic, which is this The tyrant
, • may take
poor body of mine, no one has any authority over me ^r tunjc
at all. That is why Demetrius said to Nero, ' You or your
threaten me with death, but nature threatens you '. beondU
If I pay regard to my poor body, I have given myself that you
over as a slave : and if I value my wretched property
I am a slave, for thereby I show at once what power
can master me. Just as when the snake draws in its head
I say, ' Strike the part of him which he guards,' so you
may be sure that your master will trample on that part
of you which you wish to guard. When you remember
this, whom will you flatter or fear any more ?
' Nay, but I want to sit where the senators sit.' The
. . • 1 r ambitious
Do you see that you are making a strait place tor only make
yourself and squeezing yourself ? discomfort
, . , i . f or thein-
How else then shall I have a good view in the ampni- sejveSi
theatre ? '
Man, do not go to the show and you will not be
crushed. Why do you trouble yourself ? Or wait
a little, and when the show is done, sit down in the
senator's seats and sun yourself. For remember this No one can
...... , • trouble us
(and it is true universally) that it is we who straiten uniessour
and crush ourselves — that is to say, it is our judgements own
which straiten and crush us. For instance, what does Rjvehima
it mean to be slandered ? Stand by a stone and slander hold on us.
it : what effect will you produce ? If a man then listens
Let us
follow the
example of
Socrates,
who let
nothing
disturb
him.
120 Discourses of Epictctus
like a stone, what advantage has the slanderer? But if
the slanderer has the weakness of him that he slanders to
work upon, then he does achieve something.
' Tear his toga off him.'
Why bring him in ? Take his toga. Tear that.5
' I have done you an outrage.'
May it turn out to your good.
These were the principles that Socrates practised :
that is why his face always wore the same expression.
But we are fain to study and practise everything except
how to be free men and untrammelled.
' The philosophers talk paradoxes.'
But are there no paradoxes in the other arts ? Nay, what
is more paradoxical than to lance a man's eye that he
may see ? If one told this to a person unskilled in the
physician's art, would he not laugh at him who said it ?
Is it surprising then that in philosophy also many truths
seem paradoxical to those who are unskilled?
CHAPTER XXVI
What is the law of life.
The law of WHEN some one was reciting hypothetical arguments,
living is Epictetus said : This also is a law which governs hypo-
more im- -11
portant thesis, that we must accept what conforms with the
than any hypothesis. But much more important is the law of
law of ' r ...
hypothesis, living, which is this — to act in conformity with nature.
For if we wish in every subject and in all circumstances
Book /, Chapter 26
I 21
to observe what is natural, it is plain that in everything
we must aim at not letting slip what is in harmony with
nature nor accepting what is in conflict with it. First, but it is
then, philosophers train us in the region of speculation, harder> .
, . , . . ,fo because in
which is easier, and only then lead us on to what is life there
harder: for in the sphere of speculation there is no in- are.°P'
fluence which hinders us from following what we are influences,
taught, but in life there are many influences which drag
us the contrary way. We may laugh, then, at him who
says that he wants to try living first ; for it is not easy
to begin with what is harder.
And this is the defence that we must plead with parents The study
who are angered at their children studying philosophy : °* p,~ °^n
' Suppose I am in error, my father, and ignorant of what only be
is fitting and proper for me. If, then, this cannot be
taught or learnt, why do you reproach me? If it can be to live
taught, teach me, and, if you cannot, let me learn from rig * y'
those who say that they know. For what think you ?
That I fall into evil and fail to do well because I wish
to ? God forbid. What, then, is the cause of my going
wrong ? Ignorance. Would you not then have me put
away my ignorance ? Who was ever taught the art of
music or of steering by anger ? Do you think, then, that
your anger will enable me to learn the art of living ? '
This argument can only be used by one who has enter- But some
tained the purpose of right living. But if a man studies stu X l\
logic and goes to the philosophers just because he wants display,
to show at a dinner party that he knows hypothetical
arguments, is he not merely trying to win the admiration
of some senator who sits next him? For in such society
122
Discourses of Epictetus
the great forces of the world prevail, and what we call
wealth here seems child's-play there.1
and are This is what makes it difficult to get the mastery
influenced , . . •,. . ,
bv the over one s impressions, where distracting forces are
material strong. I know a man who clung to the knees of Epaphro-
their ditus in tears and said he was in distress, for he had nothing
society. left but a million and a half. What did Epaphroditus
do ? Did he laugh at him, as we should ? No, he was
astonished, and said, ' Unhappy man, how ever did you
manage to keep silence and endure it ? '
We cannot Once when he put to confusion the student who was
moral reading hypothetical arguments, and the master who had
judge- set him to read laughed at his pupil, he said, You are
men ts from, , . 1r ,., ,
the young ^augnmg at yourself ; you did not give the young man
unless they any preliminary training, nor discover whether he can
nrelim- follow the arguments, but just treat him as a reader.
inary_ Why is it, he said, that when a mind is unable to follow
and judge a complex argument we trust to it the task
of praise and blame and of deciding on good and bad
actions? If he speaks ill of any one, does the man attend
to him, and is any one elated by a praise which comes
from one who cannot find the logical connexion in such
small matters?
This, then, is where the philosophic life begins ; in
the discovery of the true state of one's own mind :
for when once you realize that it is in a feeble state, you
will not choose to employ it any more for great matters.
To read But, as it is, some men, finding themselves unable to
books is swallow a mouthful, buy themselves a treatise, and set
useless,
unless the about eating it whole, and, in consequence they vomit
Book 7, Chapter 26 123
or have indigestion. Hence come colics and fluxes and mind can
fevers. They ought first to have considered whether
they have the faculty.
It is easy enough in speculation to examine and refute
the ignorant, but in practical life men do not submit
themselves to be tested, and we hate the man who examines
and exposes us. Yet Socrates used to say that a life
which was not put to the test was not worth living.
CHAPTER XXVII
On the ways in which impressions come to us : and the
aids we must provide for ourselves to deal with them,
IMPRESSIONS come to us in four ways : either things are The philo-
and seem so to us ; or they are not and seem not to be ; f"°P. \
or they are and seem not ; or they are not and yet seem to deal
to be. Now it is the business of the true philosopher 1 "n"
pressions.
to deal rightly with all these ; he ought to afford help
at whatever point the pressure comes. If it is the
fallacies of Pyrrho and of the Academy which crush us,
let us render help against them. If it is the plausibilities
of circumstances, which make things seem good which
are not, let us seek help against this danger : if it is habit
which crushes us we must try to discover help against
that.
What, then, can we discover to help us against habit ? Habit can
Contrary habit. ^,,c
You hear ignorant folk saying, ' Unhappy man that by con-
' he was, he died': ' His father perished, and his mother ':
The fear
of death
can only
be met by
the convic
tion that
it is not
an evil.
Trouble
comes
from un
realized
wishes.
124 Discourses of Epictetus
' He was cut off, yes, and untimely and in a foreign land.'
Now listen to the arguments on the other side ; draw
yourself away from these voices, set against habit the
opposite habit. Set against fallacious arguments the
processes of reason, training yourself to be familiar with
these processes : against the plausibilities of things we
must have our primary conceptions clear, like weapons
bright and ready for use.
When death appears an evil we must have ready to
hand the argument that it is fitting to avoid evils, and
death is a necessary thing.2 What am I to do ? where
am I to escape it ? Grant that I am not Sarpedon son
of Zeus, to utter those noble words, ' I would fain go
and achieve glory or afford another the occasion to
achieve it : if I cannot win success myself, I will not
grudge another the chance of doing a noble deed '.
Grant that this is beyond us, can we not compass the
other ? 3
I ask you, Where am I to escape death ? Point me
to the place, point me to the people, among whom I am
to go, on whom it does not light, point me to a charm
against it. If I have none, what would you have me
do ? I cannot escape death : am I not to escape the fear
of it ? Am I to die in tears and trembling ? For trouble
of mind springs from this, from wishing for a thing
which does not come to pass. Wheresoever I can alter
external things to suit my own will, I alter them : where
I cannot, I am fain to tear any man's eyes out who
stands in my way. For man's nature is such that he
cannot bear to be deprived of what is good, nor can he
Book 7, Chapter 2.7 125
bear to be involved in evil. And so the end of the matter
is that when I cannot alter things, nor blind him that
hinders me, I sit still and moan and revile whom I can- —
Zeus and the other gods ; for if they heed me not,
what have I to do with them?
' Yes, but that will be impious of you.' Piety can
Well, how shall I be worse off than I am now ? In a
word, we must remember this, that unless piety and true if a man
. , i • finds his
interest coincide, piety cannot be preserved in a man. truejn.
Do not these principles seem to you to be urgent? terest in it.
Let the Pyrrhonist and the disciple of the Academy
come and maintain the contrary ! For my part I have
no leisure for these discussions, nor can I act as advocate
to the common-sense view.4
If I had some petty action concerned with a plot of
land, I should have called in another to be my advocate,
[how much more in a matter of this concern].5
With what argument, then, am I content ? With what It is not
is appropriate to the subject in hand. How sensation takes tofa&]j[e
place, whether through the whole body or through par- to deal
ticular parts, I cannot render a reasoned account, though phji0?ve
I find difficulty in both views. But that you and I are sophical
not the same persons, I know absolutely and for certain. ^
How is that ? When I want to swallow a morsel I never
lift it to your mouth, but to mine. When I want to
take a piece of bread, I never take rubbish instead, but
go to the bread as to a mark. And even you who make
nothing of the senses, act just as I do. Which of you
when he wants to go to the bath goes to the mill
instead ?
The ordin
ary man
must be
content
with what
serves him
for prac
tical use.
Assent
depends
on im
pressions.
126 Discourses of Epictetus
What follows ? Must we not to the best of our power
hold fast to this — that is, maintain the view of common
sense, and guard ourselves against all that upsets it ? Yes,
who disputes that ? But these are matters for one who
has the power and the leisure : the man who trembles,
and is disturbed, and whose heart is shaken within him,
ought to devote his time to something else.
CHAPTER XXVIII
That we must not be angry with men: and concerning what
things are small and what are great among men.
WHAT is the reason that we assent to a thing? because
it seems to us that it is so. It is impossible that we shall
assent to that which seems not to be. Why ? Because
this is the nature of the mind — to agree to what is true,
and disagree with what is false, and withhold judgement
on what is doubtful.
What is the proof of this ?
' Feel now, if you can, that it is night.'
It is impossible.
' Put away the feeling that it is day. '
It is impossible.
' Assume or put away the feeling that the stars are even
in number.'
It is not possible.
When a man assents, then, to what is false, know that
he had no wish to assent to the false : ' for no soul is
robbed of the truth with its own consent ', as Plato says,
but the false seemed to him true.
Book 7, Chapter 28 127
Now, in the sphere of action what have we to corre- and in
j^ j r i • .uv. v. r ^.-3 action too
spond to true and false in the sphere of perception: j ^
What is fitting and unfitting, profitable and unprofitable, on im-
appropriate and inappropriate, and the like.
Cannot a man, then, think a thing is to his profit, and
not choose it ?
He cannot.
What of her 1 who says
/ know full well what ills I mean to do
But -passion overpowers what counsel bids me.
Here the very gratification of passion and the vengeance To correct
she takes on her husband she believes to be more to her ^ou
duct you
profit than saving her children. must cor-
' Yes, but she is deceived.' .rect >'our
impres-
Prove to her plainly that she is deceived and she will sions.
not do it, but as long as you do not show her, what else
can she follow but that which appears to her ? Nothing.
Why then are you indignant with her, because, unhappy
woman, she is deluded on the greatest matters and is
transformed from a human being into a serpent ?
Why do you not rather pity her — if so it may be ?
As we pity the blind and the lame, so should we pity
those who are blinded and lamed in their most sovereign
faculties.
We must remember this clearly, that man measures If you
his every action by his impressions ; of course they may reanze |nis
be good or bad : if good, he is free from reproach ; if never be
bad, he pays the penalty in his own person, for it is angr7wltn
' J any one.
impossible for one to be deluded and another to suffer
The deeds
that
Homer
records
depend
on im
pressions.
There is
nothing
great in
them.
128 Discourses of Epictetus
for it. The man who remembers this, I say, will be
angry with no one, indignant with no one, revile none,
blame none, hate none, offend none.
' So you say that deeds so great and awful take their
origin from this, the impressions of the mind ? '
From this and nothing else. The Iliad is nothing
but men's impressions and how they dealt with them.
It was impressions that made Paris take away the wife
of Menelaus, impressions that drew Helen to follow
him. If, then, his impressions had led Menelaus to feel
that it was a gain to be robbed of such a wife, what
would have happened ? We should have lost the Iliad,
and not only that but the Odyssey too.
' What ? Do these great matters depend on one that
is so small ? '
What are these you call ' such great matters '? Wars
and factions, deaths of many men and destructions of
cities. What is there great in this, pray ?
' Is there nothing great ? '
Why, what is there great in the death of many oxen
and many sheep, and the burning and destruction of
many nests of swallows and storks ?
' Are these like those other horrors ? '
Most like : bodies of men perished, so did bodies
of oxen and sheep. Huts of men were burnt : so were
storks' nasts. What is great or awful here ? Or if it be
so, show me how a man's home differs from a stork's
nest, as a dwelling.
' Is a stork, then, like a man ? '
What do you say? In respect of his body, very like j
Book /, Chapter 28 129
save only that men's homes are built of beams and rafters
and bricks, and storks' nests of sticks and clay.
' Does a man then differ in nothing from a stork ? '
God forbid : but he does not differ in these matters.
' In what then does he differ ? ' For man's
Search and you will find that he differs in something Kreatness
i T i i i ' i depends on
else. Look whether it be not that he differs in under- his reason.
standing what he does, in his. faculty for society, in
his good faith, his self-respect, his security of aim, his
prudence.
Where then is man's good and man's evil, in the true
sense, to be found ?
In that faculty which makes men different from all
else. If a man preserves this and keeps it safely fortified ;
if his sense of honour, his good faith, and his prudence
are not destroyed, then he too is preserved ; but if any
of these perish or be taken by storm, then he too perishes
with them. And it is on this that great events depend. Man fails
Was Alexander's great failure when the Hellenes came when he
against the Trojans and sacked Troy and when his brothers ^ason and
perished ? By no means : for no one fails by the act of self-
another ; yet then there was destruction of storks' nests. respec '
Nay, his failure was when he lost the man of honour,
the man of good faith, the man who respected manners
and the laws of hospitality. When did Achilles fail ?
Was it when Patroclus died ? God forbid : it was when
he was angry, when he cried for a trumpery maiden,
when he forgot that he was there not to win lady-loves,
but to make war. These are man's failures — this is
his siege, this is his razed city, when his right judge-
546.24 I T
1 3 o Discourses of Epictetus
ments are broken to the ground, and when they are
destroyed,
not where ' But when women are carried off, and children are made
.V5 j captive, and men themselves are slaughtered — are not
robbed or
killed. these things evil ? '
Where do you get this idea from? If it is true, teach
it me too.
' No, I cannot : but how can you say that they are
not evil? '
We go Let us turn to our standards, let us look to our primary
notions. For I cannot be sufficiently astonished at what
because we J
recognize men do. When we want to judge weights, we ,do not
no stand- ;uc[ge at ranjom : when we judge things straight and
ard in con- J J
duct and crooked, it is not at random : in a word, when it is
' X im" important to us to know the truth on any subject, no one
of us will ever do anything at random. Yet when we are
dealing with the primary and sole cause of right or
wrong action, of prosperity or adversity, of good or bad
fortune, there alone we are random and headlong :
we nowhere have anything like a scale, nowhere anything
like a standard : some impression strikes me, and straight
way I act on it.
This is the Am I anv better than Agamemnon or Achilles, that
source of they should do and suffer such evils because they
all tragedy. . . . „ . . .
follow their impressions, and I should8 be content with
mine ?
Surely tragedy has no other source but this. What is
the ' Atreus ' of Euripides? Impressions. What is the
' Oedipus ' of Sophocles? Impressions. 'Phoenix'? Im
pressions. ' Hippolytus ' ? Impressions. Plow do you
Book /, Chapter 28 131
think then we should describe the man who takes no
pains to discipline his impressions ? What name do we
give to those who follow everything that comes into
their mind ?
'Madmen.'
Well, is not this exactly what we do ?
CHAPTER XXIX
On Constancy.
THE essence of good and of evil lies in an attitude Good and
evil dc*
of the will. pend on
What are external things then? the will.
They are materials for the will, in dealing with which
it will find its own good or evil.
How will it find its good ?
If it does not value over much the things that it deals
with. For its judgements on matters presented to it,
if they be right, make the will good, and if crooked and
perverse make it bad. This law God has ordained and
says, ' If you want anything good, get it from yourself.'
You say, ' Not so, but from another.'
I say, No, from yourself. So when the tyrant The
, ,T7, , , tyrant s
threatens and does not invite me, 1 say, What does he threats
threaten ? ' If he says, ' I will bind you ', I say, ' He cannot
threatens my hands and my feet.' If he says, ' I will man's 'wi]]_
behead you', I say, 'He threatens my neck'. If he says,
' I will put you in prison ', I say, ' He threatens all my
poor flesh ', and if he threatens banishment, the same.
' Does he then not threaten you at all? '
I 2
132 Discourses of Epictetus
Not at all, if I feel that these things are nothing to me :
but if I fear any of them, he does threaten me. Who is
there left for me to fear, and over what has he control ?
Over what is in my power? No one controls that.
Over what is not in my power? I have no concern in
that.
Philosophy ' Do you philosophers then teach us to despise kings ? '
teaches Heaven forbid ! Which of us teaches men to resist
resistance
only when them in the matters over which they have authority ?
^ Take m7 bit of a bod>'' take m? Pr°Pert7> take m7
madteto
control the name, take my companions. If I try to persuade any
'iid ement °^ tnem to resist, I giye him leave to accuse me indeed.
' Yes, but I want to command your judgements.'
Who has given you this authority? How can you
conquer another's judgement?
' I will conquer him ', he says, ' by bringing fear to
bear on him.'
You are not aware that it was the judgement that
conquered itself, it was not conquered by another.
The will may conquer itself, but nothing else can conquer
it. That is the reason too why the noblest and most just
law of God is this : ' Let the better always be victorious
over the worse.'
Right ' Ten ', you say, ' are better than one.'
judgement Better fof what ? TQ bind to gl to carr off where
is mvin- '
cible. they will, to take away property. Ten conquer one
therefore only in so far as they are better.
' In what then are they worse ? '
They are worse if the one has right judgements, and
the ten have not. I ask you, can they conquer him in
Book 7, Chapter 29 133
this? How can they? If we weigh them in the balance,
must not the heavier pull down the scale ?
' This is your outcome then, that Socrates should suffer
the fate he did at the hands of the Athenians ? '
Slave, why do you say, ' Socrates ' ? State the fact as Socrates
it really is, That Socrates' vile body should be arrested ^ h^lled'
and haled to prison by those who are stronger, and that judgement
some one should give hemlock to Socrates' vile body ™a* V1C"
and it should die of chill — does this seem to you mar
vellous, does this seem unjust, is it for this you accuse
God? Did Socrates then get nothing in exchange?
In what did his true good consist? Which are we to
attend to? To you or to him? Nay, what does Socrates
say? ' Anytus or Meletus can slay me, but they cannot
harm me ' : l and again, ' If God so will, so be it.' Prove,
I say, that one who has worse judgements gains the
mastery over him who is his superior in judgements.
You will not prove it : far from it. For the law of
nature and of God is this, ' Let the better always come
out victor over the worse.' Victorious in what? In
that wherein it is better. One body is stronger than
another, the majority are stronger than one, the thief
stronger than he who is not a thief. That is why I too The thief
lost my lamp, because in the matter of vigilance the who steals
thief was a stronger man than I. But he bought his lamp pays for it:
for this price : for a lamp he became a thief, for a lamp r?e Price 1S
. . . • his degra-
he broke his faith, for a lamp he became a brute. This dation.
seemed to his judgement to be profitable.
Very well : but now some one has laid hold on my cloak, Imprison-
and drags me into the market, then others raise a clamour P^ 1S
to the
philo
sopher,
because it
is beyond
his will.
He is con
tent to
stay where
he is, so
long as
God wants
him,
and to go,
if God
gives the
signal.
134 Discourses of Epictetus
against me, ' Philosopher, what good have your judge
ments done you ? for, see, you are haled to prison, see,
you are about to be beheaded.'
And what sort of Introduction to philosophy could
I have studied, that would save me from being haled
off, if a stronger man seizes my cloak, or, if ten men drag
me about and cast me into prison, will save me from being
cast there? Have I then learnt nothing else? I have
learnt to sec that everything that happens, if it is beyond
the control of my will, is nothing to me. Have you not
gained benefit then in this respect ? Why do you seek
benefit elsewhere than where you learnt that it is to be
found ?
I sit on then in prison and say, ' This person who
clamours at me has no car for the true meaning of things,
he does not understand what is said, in a word he has
taken no pains to know what philosophers do or say. Let
him be.'
But [the answer comes], ' Come out of your prison.'
If you have no more need of me in prison, I come
out : if you need me again, I will come in. For how
long? For as long as reason requires that I should abide
by my vile body ; but when reason demands it no longer,
take it from me and good health to you ! Only let me
not cast it off without reason or from a faint heart, or
for a casual pretext. For again God wills it not : for
He has need of a world like this, and of such creatures
as ourselves to move upon the earth. But if He give the
signal of retreat, as He gave it to Socrates, one must
obey His signal as that of the general in command.
Book /, Chapter 29 135*
'What then? must I say these things to the multitude? ' But there
Why should you ? Is it not sufficient to believe them 1S no nf^
i } to say this
yourself ? For when children come up to us and clap to the
their hands and say, ' A good Saturnalia to you to-day ! ' multitude.
do we say ' These things are not good ' ? Not at all, we
clap with them ourselves. So, when you cannot change
a man's opinion, recognize that he is a child, clap with
him, and if you do not wish to do this, you have only
to hold your peace.
These things we must remember, and when called to when the
face a crisis that is to test us we must realize that the ^"^
moment, is come to show whether we have learnt our show that
lesson. For a young man going straight from his studies
to face a crisis may be compared to one who has practised lesson,
the analysis of syllogisms. If some one offers him one jjjjjj^jj
that is easy to analyse, he says, ' Nay, propound me one study
which is cunningly involved, that I may get proper IonSer-
exercise.' And so wrestlers are discontented if put to
wrestle with young men of light weight : ' He cannot
lift me ', one says. Here is a young man of parts, yet when
the crisis calls he must needs weep and say, ' I would
fain go on learning.'
Learning what? If you did not learn your lesson to
display it in action, what did you learn it for ?
I imagine one of those who are sitting here crying Welcome
out in the travail of his heart, ' Why does not a crisis g^^iato,
come to me such as has come to him ? Am I to wear welcomes
my life out idly in a corner, when I might win a crown
at Olympia ? When will some one bring me news of
a contest like that ? ' Such ought to be the attitude of
The
student
cannot
choose
what task
shall be
set him.
He must
make the
most of it.
The actor
shows
what he is
by his
speech,
and so, in
whatever
rank of
life, we
136 Discourses of Epictetus
you all. Why, among Caesar's gladiators there are some
who are vexed that no one brings them out or matches
them in fight, and they pray to God and go to the
managers 2 and implore them to let them fight ; and shall
no one of you display a like spirit ? That is exactly why
I should like to take ship for Rome to see how my
wrestler puts his lesson into practice.
' I do not want ', says he, ' an exercise of this sort.'
What ? is it in your power to take the task you choose ?
No, a body is given you of such a kind, parents of such
a kind, brothers of such a kind, a country of such a kind,
a position in it of such a kind : and yet you come to me
and say, ' Change the task set me.' What ! have you
not resources, to deal with what is given you ? Instead of
saying, ' It is yours to set the task, and mine to study it
well ', you say, ' Do not put before me such a syllogism,
but such an one : do not impose on me such a conclusion,
but such an one.' A time will soon come when tragic
actors will imagine that they are merely mask and shoes
and robe, and nothing else. Man, you have these things
given you as your subject and task. Speak your part,
that we may know whether you are a tragic actor or
a buffoon : for except their speech they have all else
in common. Does the tragic actor disappear, if you
take away his shoes and mask and bring him on the stage
in the bare guise of a ghost, or is he there still? If he
has a voice he is there still.
So it is in life : ' Take a post of command ' ; I take it,
and taking it show how a philosopher behaves.
' Lay aside the senator's dress, and put on rags and
Book /, Chapter 29 137
appear in that character.' Very well : is it not given must bear
•11 j- i 11 -3 witness to
me still to display a noble voice? QO(J
In what part then do you appear now?
As a witness called by God : ' Come and bear
witness for me, for I count you worthy to come
forward as my witness. Is anything good or evil which
lies outside the range of the will? Do I harm any one?
Do I put each man's advantage elsewhere than in
himself? '
What is the witness you now bear to God ? If you
' I am in danger, O Lord, and in misfortune ; no man
heeds me, no man gives me anything, all blame me and honour
speak evil of me.'
Is this the witness you are going to bear, and so
dishonour the calling that he has given you, in that
he honoured you thus and counted you worthy to be
brought forward to bear such weighty witness ?
But suppose that he who has authority pronounces, It matters
' I judge you to be godless and unholy ', how does this man -n
affect you ? authority
' I am judged to be godless and unholy.' 'godless '
Nothing more?
' Nothing.'
If he had been giving judgement on a hypothetical
proposition and had declared, ' I judge the proposition
" if it be day, there is light " to be false ', how would it have
affected the proposition? Who is judged here? Who
is condemned? The proposition or the man who is
deluded about it? Who in the world then is this who
has authority to pronounce upon you? Does he know
for the
philo
sopher
pays no
heed to
the unen
lightened
on matters
of right
and wrong.
Leave
discussions
to others,
and apply
your prin
ciples to
conduct.
The philo
sopher
must con
template
the world
with an
138 Discourses of Epictetus
what godliness or ungodliness is? Has he msde a study
of it ? Has he learnt it ? Where and with what master ?
If a musician pays no heed to him when he pronounces
that the lowest note is the highest, nor a geometrician
when he decides that the Ikies from the centre of a circle
to the circumference are not equal, shall he who is
educated in true philosophy pay any heed to an uneducated
man when he gives judgement on what is holy and unholy,
just and unjust? What a great wrong for philosophers to
be guilty of ! Is this what you have learnt by coming to
school ?
Leave other people, persons of no endurance, to
argue on these matters to little purpose. Let them
sit in a corner and take their paltry fees, or murmur
that no one offers them anything, and come forward
yourself and practise what you have learnt. For it
is not arguments that are wanting nowadays : no,
the books of the Stoics are full of them. What then is
the one thing wanting? We want the man who will
apply his arguments, and bear witness to them by
action. This is the character I would have you take
up, that we may no longer make use of old examples
in the school, but may be able to show an example
from our own day.
Whose business then is it to take cognizance of 2 these
questions ? It is for him that has studied at school ; for
man is a creature with a faculty of taking cognizance, but
it is shameful for him to exercise it in the spirit of runaway
slaves. No : one must sit undistracted and listen in
turn to tragic actor or harp-player, and not do as the
Book 7, Chapter 29 139
runaways do. At the very moment one of them is attend- unper-
, . . , . . . .. , turbed
ing and praising the actor, he gives a glance all round, spirit,
and then if some one utters the word ' master ' he is
fluttered and confounded in a moment. It is shameful
that philosophers should take cognizance of the works
of nature in this spirit. For what does ' master ' mean ? showing
XT • c i • i no fear of
JNo man is master of another man ; his masters are only jg.^ or
death and life, pleasure and pain. For, apart from them, any other
you may bring me face to face with Caesar and you
shall see what constancy I show. But when he comes
in thunder and lightning with these in his train, and
I show fear of them, I am only recognizing my master
as the runaway does. But so long as I have respite from
them I am just like the runaway watching in the theatre ;
I wash, drink, sing, but do everything in fear and misery.
But if I once free myself from my masters, that is from
those feelings which make masters formidable, my trouble
is past, and I have a master no more.
' Should I then proclaim this to all men ? ' But he
No ! One should study the weakness of the uninstructed n , n.ot
1 proclaim
and say to them, ' This man advises me what he thinks his know-
good for himself, and I excuse him.' For Socrates too if^j
excused the gaoler who wept when he was going to drink treat the
the poison, and said, ' How nobly he has wept for us ! '
Does he say to the gaoler, ' That is why we dismissed ately.
the women ' ? No, he says that to his intimate friends,
who were fit to hear it, but the gaoler he treats consider
ately like a child.3
140 Discourses of Epictetus
In the
crises of
life you
must
please
God, who
watches
you.
If you hold
fast your
principles,
CHAPTER XXX
What a man should, have ready to hand in the crises of life.
WHEN you appear before one of the mighty of the earth,
remember that Another 1 looks from above on what is
happening and that you must please Him rather than
this man. He that is above inquires of you : ' What
did you say in the school about exile and prison and bonds
and death and dishonour? '
I said they were ' indifferent '.
' What do you call them now, then ? Have they
changed ? '
No.
' Have you changed then ? '
No.
' Tell me then what things are indifferent.'
Things which lie outside the will's control.
' Tell me what follows.'
Things indifferent concern me not at all.
'Tell me also what you thought were "good things ".'
A right will and a faculty of dealing rightly with
impressions.
' And what did you think was the end ? '
To follow Thee.
' Do you still say that ? '
Yes. I say the same now as before.
Go on then into the palace in confidence and remember
these things, and you shall see how a young man who has
studied what he ought compares with men who have had
Book /, Chapter 30 141
no study. By the gods I imagine that you will feel thus : Klngs',
' Why do we make these many and great preparations their
for nothing? Is this what authority meant? Are the terrors
vestibule, the chamberlains, the guards no more than this?
Was it for this that I listened to those long discourses ?
These terrors were naught, and I made ready for them
all the time as though they were great matters.'
BOOK II
CHAPTER I
That there is no conflict between confidence and caution.
Confidence PERHAPS the contention of philosophers that it is
tionare" Possible in everything we do to combine confidence
not incom- with caution may appear a paradox, but nevertheless
3 e' we must do our best to consider whether it is true. In
a sense, no doubt, caution seems to be contrary to confi
dence, and contraries are by no means compatible.
But I think that what seems to many a paradox in this
subject depends on a confusion, and it is this. If we
really called upon a man to use caution and confidence
in regard to the same things, they might fairly find
fault with us as uniting qualities which cannot be united.
if they are But as a matter of fact there is nothing strange in the
exercised r . r . .
in the right statement : for lf u 1S true> as has often been said and
spheres. often proved, that the true nature of good and also
of evil depends on how we deal with impressions, and
if things outside the will's control cannot be described
Confidence as good or bad, we cannot surely call it a paradoxical
region of Demand of tne philosophers if they say, ' Be confident
things out- in all that lies beyond the will's control, be cautious
wiH. *n a^ tnat *s dependent on the will.' For if evil depends
Caution in on evil choice, it is only in regard to matters of will
that il is right t0 USC cailtion ; and if things outside the
Book 77, Chapter i 143
will's control, which do not depend on us, concern us dependent
in no way, we should use confidence in regard to these. ontnewl"-
And in that way we shall be at once cautious and confident
and indeed confident because of our caution. For because
we are cautious as to things which are really evil we shall
get confidence to face things which are not so.
However, we behave like deer : when hinds fear the As it is, we
feathers 1 and fly from them, where do they turn, and in ^er
what do they take refuge as a safe retreat ? They turn the wrong
to the nets, and so they perish because they confuse sPheres'
objects of fear with objects of confidence.
So it is with us. Where do we show fear? In regard
to things outside our will's control. Again, when do we
behave with confidence as though there were nothing to
fear ? In matters within the will's control. So if only
we are successful in things beyond our will's control
we think it is of no consequence to us to be deceived or
to act rashly, or to do a shameless deed, or to conceive
a shameful desire. But where death or exile or pain or
infamy confronts us, there we show the spirit of retreat
and of wild alarm. Wherefore, as is likely with men who and so our
are mistaken in the greatest matters, we convert our Confidence
becomes
natural confidence into something bold, desperate, reckless-
reckless, shameless, whereas we change our natural ness a .
our caution
caution and modesty into a cowardly and abject quality, cowardice,
full of fears and perturbations. For if a man transfers
his caution to the region of the will and the operations
of the will, with the will to be cautious he will find that
the will to avoid lies in his control : while if he turns his
caution to what is beyond the control of our will, inas-
144 Discourses of Epictetus
much as his will to avoid will be directed to what depends
upon others he will of necessity be subject to fear,
What we inconstancy, and perturbation. For it is not death or
is not Pa*n which *s a fearful thing, but the fear of pain or
death but death. Therefore men praise him who said
the fear
of death. ftot ^^ lut shameful death, is to be feared.
We ought then to turn our confidence towards
death, and our caution towards the fear of death : what
we really do is just the contrary ; we fly from death.
yet we pay no heed to forming judgements about
death, but are reckless and indifferent. Socrates called
The fear of such fears ' bogies ', and rightly too. For just as masks
death is seem fearful and terrible to children from want of
a bogy.
experience, so we are affected by events for much the
same reason as children are affected by 'bogies '. For what
makes a child ? Want of knowledge. What makes a child ?
Want of instruction. For so far as a child knows those
things he is no worse off than we are. What is death ? A
bogy. Turn it round and see what it is : you see it does not
Death is bite. The stuff of the body was bound to be parted from
part o t e t^e ^^ e}ementj either now or hereafter, as it existed
the uni- apart from it before. Why then are you vexed if they are
parted now? for if not parted now, they will be hereafter.
Why so? That the revolution of the universe may be
accomplished, for it has need of things present, things
future, and things past and done with. What is pain?
A bogy. Turn it round and see what it is. The poor
flesh is subject to rough movement, then again to smooth.
If it is not to your profit, the door stands open : if it
Book II, Chapter i
is to your profit, bear it. For in every event the door
must stand open and then we have no trouble.
What then is the fruit of these judgements? A fruit
which must needs be most noble and most becoming to
those who are truly being educated — a mind tranquil
and fearless and free. For on these matters you must
not trust the multitude, who say, ' Only the free may
be educated ', but rather the philosophers who say, ' Only
the educated are free.'
' What do you mean by that? '
I mean this. What else is freedom but power to pass
our life as we will?
' True.'
Tell me, fellow men, do you wish to live doing wrong ?
'We do not.'
Is no one free who does wrong ?
'No one.'2
Do you wish to live in fear, in pain, in distress of mind ?
' By no means.'
Well, no man who suffers fear or pain or distress of
mind is free, but whoever is quit of fears and pains and
distresses is by the self-same road quit of slavery. How
then shall we go on believing you, dearest lawgivers?
Do we allow none but the free to get education ?
Nay ! philosophers say that we do not allow any to
be free except those whose education is complete : that
is, God does not allow it.
' Well then, when a man turns his slave round before
the praetor,3 does he do nothing ? '
He does something.
546.24 1 K
The fruit
of this
belief is
tranquil
lity,
in which
freedom
consists.
Freedom
is not the
result of
manumis
sion or of
paying a
tax.
It is to
know
when to
be con
fident and
when to be
cautious.
Fine
phrases
must be
left to the
stupid or
to those
who have
achieved
peace of
mind.
146 Discourses of Epictetus
' What ? '
He turns his slave round before the praetor.
' Nothing else ? '
Yes, he is bound to pay the twentieth 3 for him.
' What follows ? Has not the man to whom this is done
gained freedom ? '
No more than he has gained peace of mind. For do you
who can confer this freedom own no master? Have
you not a master in money, a girl lover or a boy lover,
the tyrant, or a friend of the tyrant? If not, why do
you tremble when you go away to face a crisis of this
sort ? Therefore I say many times over : What you must
practise and have at command is to know what you ought
to approach with confidence, and what with caution ;
all that is beyond the control of the will with confidence,
and what is dependent on the will with caution.
'But' (says my pupil) 'have I not recited to you? Do
you not know what I am doing ? '
What are you engaged on? Paltry phrases. Away
with your paltry phrases : show me how you stand
in regard to the will to get and the will to avoid : if you
do not fail to get what you will, or fall into what you
will to avoid. As for those paltry periods, if you have
sense you will take them away somewhere or other and
make away with them.
' What do you mean ? Did not Socrates write ? '
Yes, who wrote so much as he? But under what
conditions? He could not always have some one at hand
examining his judgements or to be examined by him in
turn, and therefore he examined and questioned himself
Book //, Chapter
147
and was always putting to trial some primary conception
or other in a practical way. This is what a philosopher
writes : but paltry phrases and periods 4 "he leaves to
others, to the stupid or the blessed, those whose peace of
mind gives them leisure for study or those who can
draw no logical conclusions because of their folly.
To-day, when the crisis calls you, will you go off and
,. , . . ,
.display your recitation and harp on, How cleverly I
compose dialogues ' ? Nay, fellow man, make this your
object, ' Look how I fail not to get what I will. Look
how I escape what I will to avoid. Let death come
and you shall know ; bring me pains, prison, dishonour,
condemnation.' This is the true field of display for
a young man come from school. Leave those other
trifles to other men ; let no one ever hear you say a word
on them, do not tolerate any compliments upon them ;
assume the air of being no one and of knowing nothing.
Show that you know this only, how not to fail and how
, „ T i •
not to fall. Let others practise law-suits, logical puzzles
and syllogisms : let your study be how to suffer death,
bondage, the rack, exile : let all this be done with
confidence and trust in Him who has called you to face
them, and judged you worthy of this place you hold,
wherein at your appointed post you shall show what is the
power of reason, the Governing Principle, when arrayed
against forces which are outside the will. And, if you do
this, that paradox will no longer seem impossible or
paradoxical — that we must show caution and confidence
at the same time, confidence in regard to things beyond
the will, caution in things which depend on the will.
K2
When the
crisis calls
you Dis
p'ay not
patience in
suffering
and trust
who has
cal'ed y°u-
148 Discourses of Epictetus
CHAPTER II
•
On -peace of mind.1
He who is CONSIDER, you who are going into court, what you
OI?11t, want to maintain and where you want to end : for if
will have '
no trouble you want to maintain your freedom of will in its natural
f he keeps concJition, you have all security and facility to do so,
kingdom and your trouble is over. If you wish to maintain
of the will. authority over what is in your power and to keep it
naturally free, and if you are content with this, what
more need you attend to? For who is master of this,
who can take it away from you? If you wish to be
a man of honour and trust, who will forbid you? If
you wish not to be hindered or compelled, what man
will compel you to will to get what is against your
judgement, and to will to avoid things that you do not
think proper to avoid?
For in this What can he do then ? He will cause you troubles
no compul- whjch seem to you formidable : but how can he make
sion can . /
touch him. you will to avoid what is done to you ? As long then as
you retain in your control the will to get and the will
to avoid, you need attend to nothing else. This is your
introduction, this your narrative, this your proof, this
your victory, this your peroration, this your ground of
boasting.2
Life, as That is why Socrates, in reply to one who reminded
saw is the ^m to make ready for the court, said : ' Do you not
true pre- think my whole life is a preparation for this ? '
for trial. What kind of preparation?
Book //, Chapter 2 149
' I have maintained ', said he, ' what is my own.'
What do you mean?
' I never did an unjust act in my private or in my
public life.'
But if you wish to keep what is outside you as well — Make your
your paltry body, and goods, and reputation — I advise fo^ii01
you to begin this moment to make all possible preparation, between
and further to study the character of your judge and mwar ^n
your opponent. If you must clasp his knees, clasp
them ; if you must weep, then weep ; if you must
lament, then lament. For when once you allow out
ward things to dominate what is your own, you had
better become a slave and have done with it. Don't
be drawn this way and that, wishing to be a slave one
moment and free another, but be this or that simply
and with all your mind, free or slave, philosopher or
unenlightened, a fighting cock of spirit, or one of no
spirit ; either bear stroke after stroke patiently till you
die, or give way at once. Let it not be your lot to suffer
many blows and then give way in the end. If such con
duct is shameful, get your own mind clear at once :
' Where is the nature of good and evil to be found ?
Where truth is. Where truth and nature are, there
is caution ; where truth and nature are, there is con
fidence.' 3
For what think you? If Socrates had wished to keep Socrates
his outward possessions, would he have come forward and j^atti^
said, ' Anytus and Meletus have power to kill me, but tude would
not to harm me ' ? Was he so foolish as not to see that
this road leads not to that end, but elsewhere? Why is it
1 5*o Discourses of Epictetus
then, that he renders no account to his judges, and adds
a word of provocation? Just as my friend Heraclitus,
when he had an action in Rhodes concerning a plot of
land and had pointed out to the judges that his arguments
were just, when he came to his peroration said, ' I will
not supplicate you, nor do I regard the judgement you
will give ; it is you who are on your trial rather than
But you I '? and so ne made an end of the business. You need not
need not Speak like that, only do not supplicate. Do not add the
provoke .
your words, ' I do not supplicate ', unless, as happened to
judges, un- Socrates, the right time has come deliberately to provoke
less the 5 . . 7
time has your judges. If, indeed, you are preparing a peroration
come. of tnjs sort> why Jo yOU appear J n court ? 4 Why do you
answer the summons? If you wish to be crucified, wait
and the cross will come : but if reason requires that you
should answer the summons and do your best to persuade
the judge, you must act in accordance with this, but
always keeping true to yourself.
Do not ask On this principle it is ridiculous to say, ' Give me advice.'
for -par- What advice am I to give you? Say rather, ' Enable my
advice, but mind to adapt itself to the issue, whatever it may be',
be ready to for ^e other phrase is as though a man unskilled in
yourself to writing should say, ' Tell me what to write, when
any issue. a name is set me to write.' For if I say ' Dion ', and
then yonder fellow comes forward and sets him the
name not of Dion but of Theon, what is to happen ?
What is he to write? If you have practised writing,
you can prepare yourself for anything that is dictated
to you. But if you have not practised, what is the good
of my making a suggestion ? For if circumstances suggest
Book //, Chapter 2 1 5- 1
something different, what will you say or what will
you do ? Remember then this general principle, and you
will need no special suggestion. But if you fix your
gaze on outward things, you must needs be tossed up
and down, at the will of your master. And who is your
master? He who has authority over any of those things
on which you set your heart or which you will to avoid.
CHAPTER III
To those who commend persons to philosophers.
THAT is a good answer of Diogenes to one who asked The philo-
him for letters of introduction : 'You are a man, and ^f^^
that his eyes will tell him ; but whether you are good himself
or bad he will discover, if he has skill to distinguish the v
good from the bad ; and if he has not that skill, he will worth,
never discover it, though I should write him ten thousand
letters.' A drachma might just as well ask tobe introduced
to some one in order to be tested. If the man is a judge
of silver, you will introduce yourself. We ought, there- But most
fore, to have some faculty to guide us in life, as the n
assayer has in dealing with silver, that I may be able to of distin-
say as he does, ' Give me any drachma you please, and I will
distinguish.' Now I can deal with a syllogism and say, bad.
' Bring any one you like/and I will distinguish between him
who can analyse syllogisms and him who cannot.' Why?
Because I know how to analyse them : I have the faculty
a man must have who is to recognize those who can
handle syllogisms aright. But when I have to deal
1 5" 2 Discourses of Epictetus
with life, how do I behave? Sometimes I call a thing
good, sometimes evil. And the reason is just this, that
whereas I have knowledge of syllogisms, I have no
knowledge or experience of life.
The adul
terer
destroys
trust and
honour.
If you are
not fit to
be a mem
ber of
society you
must be
cast on the
dunghill.
CHAPTER IV
To the man caught in adultery.
WHEN Epictetus was saying that man is born for
mutual trust, and he who overthrows this overthrows the
quality peculiar to man, there came in one of those who
are reputed scholars, a man who had once been caught
committing adultery in the city. If, said Epictetus,
we put away this trust, for which we are born, and plot
against our neighbour's wife, what are we doing? Are
we not pulling down and destroying ? Whom ? The man
of trust, of honour, of piety. Is this all? Are we not
overthrowing neighbourly feeling, friendship, the city
itself? What position are we taking up?
How am I to treat you, my fellow man? As a neighbour?
As a friend? Of what kind? As a citizen? What trust
am I to put in you? No doubt, if you were a piece of
pottery, so cracked that you could not be used for
anything, you would be cast out on the dunghill, and no
one would stoop to take you thence : what shall we do
with you then, if being a man you can fill no place
becoming to a man ? Granted that you cannot hold the
position of a friend, can you hold that of a slave? And
who will trust you? Will you not then consent to be
Book //, Chapter 4 1^3
cast upon a dunghill yourself as a useless vessel, as
a thing for the dunghill?
Will you complain, ' No man pays any attention to
me, a man and a scholar ' ?
Of course, for you are bad and useless. Wasps might
as well be indignant because no one heeds them, but all
avoid them and any one who can strikes and crushes
them. Your sting is such that you cause pain and trouble
to any one you strike with it. What would you have us
do to you? There is no place to put you.
What then? Is it not true that 'women are com- If it be
mon property by nature'?1 I agree, for the sucking- s '
pig is the common property of those who are bidden common
to the feast. Very well, when it has been cut into P™Perty >
' the answer
portions, come, if you see fit, and snatch the portion is, ' Not
of the guest who sits next you, steal it secretly or slip ^ (
your hand over it and taste it, or if you cannot snatch has dis-
any of the flesh rub your fingers on the fat and lick them. P°sed,of
A fine companion you are for a feast or a dinner, worthy
of Socrates indeed !
Again, is not the theatre common to all citizens ?
When they are seated there, come, if you see fit, and turn
one of them out. In the same way you may say that
women are common property by nature. But when the
law-giver, like the giver of the feast, has apportioned
them, will you not look for your own portion instead
of stealing what is another's and guzzling that?
'Yes, but I am a scholar and understand Archedemus.'
Well then, understand Archedemus, be an adulterer and
a man of broken trust, a wolf or an ape instead of a man ;
for what is there to hinder you ?
1 5-4 Discourses of Epictetus
Man must
learn to
deal with
things, as
dicers
learn to
play.
He must
place good
and evil
among
things
within his
control,
and must
learn to
deal aright
with what
is beyond
his control.
CHAPTER V
How a careful life is compatible with a noble spirit.
MATERIAL things are indifferent, but how we handle
them is not indifferent.
How then is one to maintain the constant and tranquil
mind, and therewith the careful spirit which is not
random or hasty?
You can do it if you imitate those who play dice.
Counters and dice are indifferent : how do I know what
is going to turn up? My business is to use what does
turn up with diligence and skill. In like manner this is
the principal business of life : distinguish between things,
weigh them one against the other, and say, ' External
things are not in my power, my will is my own. Where
am I to seek what is good and what is evil ? Within me,
among my own possessions.' You must never use the
word good or evil or benefit or injury or any such word,
in connexion with other men's possessions.
'Do you mean then that outward things are to be used
without care?'
By no means. For this again is evil for the will and
unnatural to it. They must be used with care, for their
use is not a matter of indifference, but at the same time
with constancy and tranquillity, for in themselves they
are indifferent. For where the true value of things is
concerned, no one can hinder or compel me. I am subject
to hindrance and compulsion only in matters which lie
out of my power to win, which are neither good nor evil,
Book //, Chapter
but they may be dealt with well or ill, and this rests
with me.
It is difficult to unite and combine these qualities — To com-
the diligence of a man who devotes himself to material cence wjth
things, and the constancy of one who disregards them — yet constancy
not impossible. Otherwise it would be impossible to but not
be happy. We act very much as if we were on a voyage, impossible.
What can I do .?1 I can choose out the helmsman, the
sailors, the day, the moment. Then a storm arises.
What do I care? I have fulfilled my task : another has
now to act, the helmsman. Suppose even the ship goes Do your
down. What have I to do then? I do only what lies {g^'eath
in my power, drowning, if drown I must, without fear, come if it
not crying out or accusing heaven, for I know that what is
born must needs also perish. For I am not immortal, but
a man, a part of the universe as an hour is part of the day.
Like the hour I must be here and like an hour'pass away.
What matters it then to me how I pass, by drowning
or by fever, for by some such means I must needs pass
away?
You will see that those who play ball with skill behave Play the
so. No one of them discusses whether the ball is good |ame' . an
or bad, but only how to strike it and how to receive it. think of
Therefore balanced play consists in this — skill, speed, t
good judgement consist in this — that while I cannot
catch the ball, even if I spread my gown for it, the expert
catches it if I throw it. But if we catch or strike the ball
with flurry or fear, what is the good of the game? How
will any one stick to the game and see how it works out ?
One will say, ' Strike ', and another, ' Do not strike ', and
So, like
Socrates,
you will
combine
diligence
with in
difference.
Use what
is given
you, but do
not cling
to life.
i y 6 Discourses of Epictetus
another, ' You have had one stroke.' 2 This surely is
fighting instead of playing.
In that sense Socrates knew how to play the game.
' What do you mean ? '
He knew how to play in the court. ' Tell me, Anytus,'
said he, ' in what way you say that I disbelieve in God.
What do you think that divinities are? Are they not
either children of the gods, or the mixed offspring of
men and gods ? ' And when Anytus agreed, he said, ' Who
then do you think can believe in the existence of mules
and not in asses ? ' He was like one playing at ball. What
then was the ball that he played with? Life, imprison
ment, exile, taking poison, being deprived of his wife,
leaving his children orphans. These were the things
he played with, but none the less he played and tossed
the ball with balance. So we ought to play the game,
so to speak, with all possible care and skill, but treat the
ball itself as indifferent. A man must certainly cultivate
skill in regard to some outward things : he need not
accept a thing for its own sake, but he should show his
skill in regard to it, whatever it be. In the same way the
weaver does not make fleeces, but devotes himself to
dealing with them in whatever form he receives them.
Sustenance and property are given you by Another, who
can take them away from you too, yes and your bit of
a body as well.
It is for you, then, to take what is given you and make
the most of it. Then if you come off without harm,
others who meet you will rejoice with you in your safety,
but the man who has a good eye for conduct, if he sees
Book 77, Chapter $ 15-7
that you behaved here with honour, will praise you and
rejoice with you : but if he sees a man has saved his life
by acting dishonourably, he will do the opposite. For
where a man can rejoice with reason, his neighbour can
rejoice with him also.
How is it then that some external things are described You can-
as natural and some as unnatural? It is because we "hin^is^
regard ourselves as detached from the rest of the uni- 'natural'
verse. For the foot (for instance), I shall say it is natural ^str^ct
to be clean, but if you take it as a foot and not as a de
tached thing, it will be fitting for it to walk in the mud
and tread upon thorns and sometimes to be cut off for
the sake of the whole body : or else it will cease to be
a foot. We must hold exactly the same sort of view about
ourselves. Man is not
What are you ? A man. If you regard man as a detached an isolated
. . being, but
being, it is natural for him to live to old age, to be rich, part of a
to be healthy. But if you regard him as a man and a part vg(fr -,
of a larger whole, that whole makes it fitting that at one must take
moment you should fall ill, at another go a voyage and con"
' . } J f sequences,
risk your life, and at another be at your wit s end, and,
it may be, die before your time. Why then are you
indignant? Do you not know that, just as the foot
spoke of if viewed apart will cease to be a foot, so you will
cease to be a man? For what is a man? A part of a city,
first a part of the City in which gods and men are incor
porate, and secondly of that city which has the next claim
to be called so, which is a small copy of the City universal.
' What,' you say, ' am I now to be put on my trial ? '
Is another then to have a fever, another to go a voyage,
another die, another be condemned ? I say it is impossible
Do your
part and
leave the
judge to
do his.
if 8 Discourses of Epictetus
in a body like ours, in this enveloping space, in this
common life, that events of this sort should not happen,
one to this man and another to that. It is your business
then to take what fate brings and deal with what
happens, as is fitting.3 Suppose then the judge says,
' I will judge you to be a wrongdoer ' ; you reply, ' May
it go well with you ! I did my part, and it is for you
to see if you have done yours : for the judge's part too,
do not forget, has its own danger ! '
Life is in
different,
but not the
use of life.
It is good
to know
the limits
of your
capacity.
CHAPTER VI
On what is meant by ' indifferent ' things.
TAKE a given hypothetical proposition. In itself it is
indifferent, but your judgement upon it is not indifferent,
but is either knowledge, or mere opinion, or delusion.
In the same way though life is indifferent, the way you
deal with it is not indifferent. Therefore, when you are
told ' These things also are indifferent', do not be careless,
and when you are urged to be careful, do not show
a mean spirit and be overawed by material things.
It is a good thing to know what you can do and what
you are prepared for, that in matters where you are not
prepared, you may keep quiet and not be vexed if others
have the advantage of you there. For when it is a
question of syllogisms, you in your turn will expect to
have the advantage, and if they are vexed with this you
will console them with the words, ' I learnt them, but
you did not.' So when acquired dexterity is. needed1
Book II j Chapter 6 15-9
it is for you in your turn not to seek what only practice
can give : leave that to those who have acquired the
knack, and be content yourself to show constancy.
1 Go and salute such an one.' Right
I have saluted him. conduct
. , depends on
How ? holding
In no mean spirit. ^ast to.
, T, ... what is
.But his house was shut upon you. your own
Yes, for I have not learnt to enter by the window • ?nd what,
i T c 1S natural,
when 1 hnd the door shut, I must either retire or go
in by the window.
' But again one says, " Talk to him." '
I do talk to him.
' How ? '
In no mean spirit.
Suppose you did not get what you wanted ? Surely
that was his business and not yours. Why then do you
claim what is another's ? If you always remember what is
yours and what is not yours, you will never be put to
confusion. Therefore Chrysippus well says, ' As long as
the consequences are unknown to me, I always hold fast
to what is better adapted to secure what is natural,
for God Himself created me with the faculty of choosing
what is natural.' Nay, if I really knew that it was
ordained for me now to be ill, I should wish 2 to be ill ;
for the foot too, if it had a mind, would wish to get
muddy.
For instance, why do ears of corn grow ? Is it not that It is as
they may ripen in the sun ? And if they are ripened natural f.or
. . i , men to die,
is it not that they may be reaped, for they are not as for corn
to ripen
and be
reaped.
We are
angry be
cause we
are con
scious of
our lot, but
unaware
of our true
nature.
And so we
do not
obey like
Chrysan-
tas, but
protest.
It is no
hardship
to die, and
one road
to death is
as good as
another.
1 60 Discourses of Epictetus
things apart? If they had feelings then, ought they
to pray never to be reaped at any time? But this is
a curse upon corn — to pray that it should never be
reaped. In like manner know that you are cursing men
when you pray for them not to die : it is like a prayer
not to be ripened, not to be reaped. But we men, be
ing creatures whose fate it is to be reaped, are also made
aware of this very fact, that we are destined for reaping,
and so we are angry ; for we do not know who we are,
nor have we studied human things as those who are
skilled in horses study the concerns of horses.
But Chrysantas, when he was about to strike the enemy,
and heard the bugle sounding the retreat, desisted : so
convinced was he that it was more to his advantage to
do the general's bidding than his own. But not a man
of us, even when necessity calls, is willing to obey her
easily, but we bear what comes upon us with tears and
groans, and we call it ' circumstances '.3
What do you mean by ' circumstances', fellow men?
If you mean by ' circumstances ' what surrounds you,
everything is circumstance : if you use the term in the
sense of hardships, how is it a hardship that what was
born should be destroyed ? The instrument of destruction
is a sword or a wheel or the sea or a potsherd or a tyrant.
What matters it to you, by what road you are to go
down to Hades? All roads are alike. But, if you will
hear the truth, the road the tyrant sends you is shorter.
No tyrant ever took six months to execute a man, but
a fever often takes a year to kill one. All these complaints
are mere noise and vanity of idle phrases.
Book 77, Chapter 6 161
' In Caesar's presence my life is in danger.' Caesar's
But am not I in equal danger, dwelling in Nicopolis, J£"rrt J °°
where earthquakes are so many? And you too, when gerous
you sail across the Adriatic, are you not in danger of th^n Nico-
,.,. , polis, and
life? in the last
' Yes, but in thought too I am in danger.' res°rt y°u
v T i , TT are free to
Tour thought? How can that be? Who can go else-
compel you to think against your will ? The thought where-
of others? How can it be any danger to you for others
to have false ideas?
' Yes, but I am in danger of being banished.'
What is being banished ? Is it being elsewhere than
in Rome?
' Yes, suppose I am sent to Gyara ? '
If it makes for your good, you will go : if not, you have
a place to go to instead of Gyara, a place whither he
who is sending you to Gyara will also go whether he
will or no. Why then do you go to Rome as though it
meant so much? It is not much compared with your
preparation for it : so that a youth of fine feeling may
say, ' It was not worth this price — to have heard so
many lectures and written so many exercises, and sat
at the feet of an old man of no great merit.'
There is only one thing for you to remember, that is, The one
the distinction between what is yours and what is not thlnfi *?
,, . . . remember
yours. Never lay claim to anything that is not your own. is to keep
Tribunal and prison are distinct places, one high, the y?"r own
i , will secure.
other low ; but your will, if you choose to keep it the
same in both, may be kept the same. So we shall emulate
Socrates, but only when we can write songs of triumph
546.24 1 L
1 62 Discourses of Epictetns
in prison. As for our condition up till now, I doubt
whether we should have borne with one who should
say to us in prison, ' Would you like me to recite to you
songs of triumph? '
' Why do you trouble me ? Do you not know the ills
which beset me ? for this is my state.'
What is it ?
' I am at the point of death.'
Yes, but are other men going to be immortal?
CHAPTER VII
How to consult diviners.
The MANY of us often neglect acts which are fitting
diviner because we consult the diviners out of season. What
cannot tell
you what can the diviner see more than death or danger or disease
is right or or generally things of that sort ? If then I have to risk
wrong. . .
my life for a friend, if even it is fitting for me to die for
him, how can it be in season for me to consult a diviner?
Have I not within me the diviner who has told me the
true nature of good and evil, who has expounded the
signs of both? What need have I then of the flesh of
victims or the flight of birds ? Can I bear with him when
he says, ' This is expedient for you ' ? Does he know what
is expedient, does he know what is good, has he learnt
signs to distinguish between good things and bad, like
the signs in the flesh of victims ? If he knows the signs
of good and evil, he knows also the signs of things noble
and shameful, just and unjust. It is yours, man, to tell
Book //, Chapter 7 163
me what is portended — life or death, poverty or wealth ;
but whether this is expedient or inexpedient I am not
going to inquire of you.
Why do you not lay down the law in matters of gram
mar ? Are you going to do it here then, where all mankind
are at sea and in conflict with one another? Therefore
that was a good answer that the lady made who wished
to send the shipload of supplies to Gratilla in exile, when
one said, ' Domitian will take them away ' : ' I would
rather', she said, 'that Domitian should take them away
than that I should not send them.'
What then leads us to consult diviners so constantly? Nothing
Cowardice, fear of events. That is why we flatter , j-
the diviners. makes us
' Master, shall I inherit from my father ? ' ™nsult
J them.
' Let us see : let us offer sacrifice.'
'Yes, master, as fortune wills.'
When he says, ' You shall inherit ', we give thanks to
him as though we had received the inheritance from him.
That is why they go on deluding us.
What must we do then? We must come without the We ought
will to get or the will to avoid, iust as the wayfarer asks to aP~
proach
the man he meets which of two ways leads anywhere, God like
not wanting the right hand to be the road rather than trayellers
° ' ready to
the left, for he does not wish to go one particular road, take what
but the road which leads to his goal. We ought to r?ac\
. . . . may lead
approach God as we approach a guide, dealing with Him to.
as we deal with our eyes, not beseeching them to show
us one sort of things rather than another, but accepting
the impressions of things as they are shown us, But
L2
1 64 Discourses of Epictetus
instead of that we tremble and get hold of the augur
and appeal to him as if he were a god 1and say, 'Master,
have pity, suffer me to come off safe.'
Slave, do you not wish for what is better for you?
Is anything better than what seems good to God? Why
do you do all that in you lies to corrupt the judge, and
pervert your counsellor?
CHAPTER VIII
What is the true nature of the good.
The good GOD is beneficent, but the good also is beneficent. It
take'oTthe *S natural tnerefore that the true nature of the good
nature of should be in the same region as the true nature of God.
God> What then is the nature of God ? Is it flesh ? God forbid.
Land? God forbid. Fame? God forbid. It is intelli
gence, knowledge, right reason. In these then and no
where else seek the true nature of the good. Do you
look for it in a plant ? No. Or in an irrational creature?
No. If then you seek it in what is rational why do you
seek it elsewhere than in what distinguishes it from
irrational things? Plants have not the faculty of dealing
with impressions ; therefore you do not predicate ' good '
of them.
It implies The good then demands power to deal with impressions.
deaTwith *S tliat a^ ^ demands -? If tnat be all, you must say that
impres- other animals also are capable of good and of happiness and
unhappiness. But you do not say so and you are right,
for whatever power they may have to deal with impressions,
Book //, Chapter 8 16?
they have not the power to understand how they do so, to under
stand
them.
and with good reason, for they are subservient to others, s
and are not of primary importance.
Take the ass, for instance, is it born to be of primary
importance? No; it is born because we had need of
a back able to bear burdens. Nay, more, we had need
that it should walk ; therefore it has further received the
power of dealing with impressions, for else it could not
have walked. Beyond that its powers cease. But if the
ass itself had received the power to understand how
it deals with impressions, then it is plain that reason
would have required that it should not have been subject
to us or have supplied these needs, but should have been
our equal and like ourselves. Will you not then seek the Man is
true nature of the good in that, the want of which makes , s c ie
work, a
you refuse to predicate good of other things ? portion of
' What do you mean ? Are not they too God's ^fd Him'
works ? '
They are, but not His principal works, nor parts of the
Divine. But you are a principal work, a fragment of God
Himself, you have in yourself a part of Him. Why then
are you ignorant of your high birth? Why do you not
know whence you have come? Will you not remember,
when you eat, who you are that eat, and whom you are
feeding, and the same in your relations with women ?
When you take part in society, or training, or conversa
tion, do you not know that it is God you are nourishing
and training? You bear God about with you, poor
wretch, and know it not. Do you think I speak of some Every man
external god of silver or gold ? No, you bear Him about
with him,
and must
see that
he defiles
Him not.
A statue
would re
member its
maker, but
man — a far
nobler
creature —
forgets
Zeus, who
made him.
1 66 Discourses of Epictetus
within you and are unaware that you are defiling Him with
unclean thoughts and foul actions. If an image of God
were present, you would not dare to do any of the things
you do ; yet when God Himself is present within you and
sees and hears all things, you are not ashamed of thinking
and acting thus : O slow to understand your nature, and
estranged from God !
Again, when we send a young man from school to the
world of action, why is it that we fear that he may do some
thing amiss — in eating, in relations with women, that he
may be humbled by wearing rags, or puffed up by fine
clothes ?
He does not know the God that is in him, he knows
not in whose company he is going. Can we allow him to
say, ' I would fain have you with me ' ? Have you not
God there ? and, having Him, do you look for any one
else? Will He tell you anything different from this?
Why, if you were a statue wrought by Phidias — his Zeus
or his Athena — you would have remembered what you are
and the craftsman who made you, and if you had any
intelligence, you would have tried to do nothing un
worthy of him who made you or of yourself, and to
bear yourself becomingly in men's eyes. But as it is, do
you, whom Zeus has made, for that reason take no thought
what manner of man you will show yourself? Yet what
comparison is there between the one artificer and the
other or the one work and the other ? What work of art,
for instance, has in itself the faculties of which it gives
indication in its structure? Is it not stone or bronze or
gold or ivory? Even the Athena of Phidias having once
for all stretched out her hand and received the Victory
Book 77, Chapter 8 167
upon it stands thus for all time, but the works of God are
endowed with movement and breath, and have the
faculty of dealing with impressions and of testing them.
When this Craftsman has made you, do you dishonour
his work? Nay, more, He not only made you, but com
mitted you as a trust to yourself and none other. Will
you not remember this, but even dishonour the trust
committed to you ?
If God had committed some orphan to your care, would God
you have neglected him so? Yet He has entrusted your trusted
! you to
own self to you and He says, ' I had none other more trust- yourself, to
worthy than you : keep this man for me such as he is kee!j u?l
born to be, modest, faithful, high-minded, undismayed, Him.
free from passion and tumult.' After that, do you refuse
to keep him so ?
But they will say, ' Where has this man got his high
looks and his lofty countenance ? '
Nay, I have not got them yet as I ought : for as yet
I have not confidence in what I have learnt and assented
to, I still fear my own weakness. Only let me gain confi
dence and then you shall see a proper aspect and a proper
bearing, then I will show you the statue as it is when it
is finished and polished. What think you? That this
means proud looks? Heaven forbid! Does Zeus of
Olympia wear proud looks? No, but his gaze is steadfast,
as his should be who is to say :
For my word cannot be taken back, nor can it deceive.
Such will I show myself to you — faithful, self-respecting,
noble, free from tumult.
itf8 Discourses of Epictetus
Keep your- ' Do you mean, free from death and old age and disease ? '
self then — -\T u i
not free rslo> but as one w^° "ies as a g°d, and who bears illness
from like a god. These are my possessions, these my faculties •
death, but ,, ,
ready to a11 otners are beyond me. 1 will show you the smews of
die like a philosopher.
' What do you mean by sinews ? '
Will to achieve that fails not, will to avoid that falls
not into evil, impulse to act appropriately, strenuous
purpose, assent that is not precipitate. This is what you
shall see.
CHAPTER IX
That we adopt the profession of the philosopher when we
cannot fulfil that of a man.
Man's call- IT is no ordinary task merely to fulfil man's promise.
rational.1'6 F°r what is Man? A rational animal, subject to death.
This marks At once we ask, from what does the rational element
?rorn°o[her distinguisn us ? From wild beasts. And from what else?
animals. From sheep and the like. Look to it then that you do
nothing like a wild beast, else you destroy the Man in you
and fail to fulfil his promise. See that you do not act
like a sheep, or else again the Man in you perishes.
You ask how we act like sheep ?
When we consult the belly, or our passions, when our
actions are random or dirty or inconsiderate, are we not
falling away to the state of sheep? What do we destroy?
The faculty of reason. When our actions are combative,
mischievous, angry, and rude, do we not fall away and
become wild beasts ? In a word, some of us are great beasts,
Book //, Chapter 9 169
and others are small but base-natured beasts, which give
occasion to say, ' Nay, rather let me be food for a lion.' All
these are actions by which the calling of man is destroyed.
What makes a complex proposition be what it is? It
must fulfil its promise ; it keeps its character only if the
parts it is composed of are true. What makes a disjunc
tive proposition? It must fulfil its purport. Is not the
same true of flutes, lyre, horse, and dog? Is it surprising But man
then that man too keeps or loses his nature on the same can 011}y
principle? Each man is strengthened and preserved by true nature
the exercise of the functions that correspond to his nature, b7 exer'
11. cismg it.
the carpenter by carpentering, the grammarian by studies
in grammar. If a man gets the habit of writing ungram
matically, his art is bound to be destroyed and perish.
In the same way the modest man is made by modest acts
and ruined by immodest acts, the man of honour keeps
his character by honest acts and loses it by dishonest.
So again men of the opposite character are strengthened
by the opposite actions : the shameless man by shameless-
ness, the dishonest by dishonesty, the slanderous by
slander, the ill-tempered by ill-temper, the miser by
grasping at more than he gives. That is why philosophers
enjoin upon us ' not to be content with learning only, but
to add practice as well and then training '. For we have
acquired wrong habits in course of years and have adopted
for our use conceptions opposite to the true, and therefore
if we do not adopt true conceptions for our use we shall
be nothing else but interpreters of judgements which
are not our own.
Of course any one of us can discourse for the moment It is easy
ijo Discourses of Epictetus
to ex- on what is good and what is bad : as thus, ' Of things
pound the t^at are some are good, some bad, some indifferent : good
principles
of our are virtues and things that have part in virtues ; evil are
the opposite ; indifferent are wealth, health, reputation.'
And then if some loud noise disturbs us while we are
speaking or one of the bystanders laughs at us, we are put
but it is out of countenance. Philosopher, where are those princi-
useless un- pjes yOU were talking of? Whence did you fetch them
are forth to utter? From the lips and no further.
wrought These principles1 are not your own : why do you make
into our L ...
being. a mess of them ? Why do you gamble with things of highest
moment? It is one thing (to use an illustration) to put
bread and wine away into a store-cupboard, and another
thing to eat. What you eat is digested and distributed,
and is turned into sinews, flesh, bones, blood, complexion,
breath. What you store away you have at hand and can
show to others at will, but it does you no good except for
the mere name of having it. What is the good of ex
pounding these doctrines any more than those of another
Unless this school ? Sit down now and discourse on the doctrines of
be done, Epicurus, and you will soon discourse more effectively than
you are no . .
more Stoic Epicurus himself. Why then do you call yourself a Stoic,
than Epi- w^y jo vou deceive the world, why being a Hellene do
curean.
you act the Jew ? a Do you not see in what sense a man
is called a Jew, in what sense a Syrian, in what an Egyp
tian? When we see a man trimming between two faiths
we are wont to say, ' He is no Jew, but is acting a part ',
but when he adopts the attitude of mind of him who is
baptized and has made his choice, then he is not only
called a Jew but is a Jew indeed. So we also are but
Book //, Chapter 9 171
counterfeit ' baptists ', Jews in name only, but really Do not
something else, with no feeling for reason, far from acting pnjj°0"ie '
on the principles we talk of, though we pride ourselves on sopher
them as though we knew them. So, being unable to fulfil ^[^0^
the calling of Man we adopt that of the Philosopher, cannot
a heavy burden indeed ! It is as though one who could |^_
not lift ten pounds were fain to lift the stone of Ajax !
CHAPTER X
How the acts appropriate to man are to be discovered from
the names he bears.
CONSIDER who you are. First, a Man ; that is, one who Man is
has nothing more sovereign than will, but all else -subject "u'
to this, and will itself free from slavery or subjection, under-
Consider then from what you are parted by reason. sta.nd tne
' ' universe.
You are parted from wild beasts, you are parted from
sheep. On these terms you are a citizen of the universe
and a part of it, not one of those marked for service, but
of those fitted for command ; for you have the faculty
to understand the divine governance of the universe and
to reason on its sequence. What then is the calling of
a Citizen? To have no personal interest, never to think Asa
about anything as though he were detached, but to be ^^
like the hand or the foot, which, if they had the power of universe
\\ ' 11 "
reason and understood the order of nature, would direct jsisto°a
every impulse and every process of the will by reference work with
to the whole. That is why it is well said by philosophers
that ' if the good man knew coming events beforehand
172 Discourses of Epictetus
he would help on nature, even if it meant working with
disease, and death and maiming ', for he would realize
that by the ordering of the universe this task is allotted
him, and that the whole is more commanding than the
part and the city than the citizen. ' But seeing that we
do not know beforehand, it is appropriate that we should
hold fast to the things that are by nature more fit to be
chosen ; for indeed we are born for this.'
As son, he Next remember that you are a Son. What part do we
must obey
his father. exPect a son to Pla7-? His part is to count all that is his as
his father's, to obey him in all things, never to speak ill
of him to any, nor to say or do anything to harm him, to
give way to him and yield him place in all things, working
with him so far as his powers allow.
As brother, Next know that you are also a Brother. For this part
he must ,
be con- ° you are bound to show a spirit of concession and
siderate. obedience ; and to speak kindly, and not to claim against
another anything that is outside the will, but gladly to
sacrifice those things, that you may gain in the region
where your will has control. For look what a thing it is
to gain good nature at the price of a lettuce, if it so
chance, or the surrender of a chair : what a gain is that !
Every Nextj if you are a member of a city council, remember
name he , . '
bears sug- tnat 7OU are a councillor ; if young, that you are young ;
conduc*6 ^ °ld' that ^°U 3re °ld ' if a father' that Xou are a father.
proper For each of these names, if properly considered, suggests
the acts appropriate to it. But if you go and disparage
your brother, I tell you that you are forgetting who you
To act are and what is your name. I say, if you were a smith
- lhe and used your hammer wrong, you would have forgotten
Book //, Chapter i o 173
the smith ; but if you forget the brother's part and turn
into an enemy instead of a brother, are you going to
imagine that you have undergone no change? If instead
of man, a gentle and sociable creature, you have become
a dangerous, aggressive, and biting brute, have you lost
nothing? Do you think you must lose cash in order to
suffer damage? Does no other sort of loss damage man?
If you lost skill in grammar or music you would count
the loss as damage ; if you are going to lose honour and
dignity and gentleness, do you count it as nothing?
Surely those other losses are due to some external cause
outside our will, but these are due to ourselves. Those
qualities it is no honour to have and no dishonour to lose,
but these you cannot lack or lose without dishonour,
reproach, and disaster.
What does he lose who is the victim of unnatural lust?
He loses his manhood. And the agent of such lust, what
does he lose? He loses his manhood like the other, and
much besides. What does the adulterer lose? He loses
the man of honour and self-control, the gentleman, the
citizen, the neighbour. What does the angry man lose ?
Something else. The man who fears? Something else.
No one is evil without destruction and loss.
If on the other hand you look for loss in paltry pence,
all the men I have mentioned are without loss or damage,
if it so chance, nay they actually receive gain and profit,
when they get cash by any of these actions. But
notice, that if you make money the standard in every
thing, you will not count even the man who loses his
nose as having suffered injury.
spirit of
your name
means loss
and dis
honour.
All evil
means de
struction
or loss,
not mere
loss of
money,
but of
man's most
precious
faculties.
174 Discourses of Epictetus
' Yes, I do,' he says, ' for his body is mutilated.'
Well, but does the man who has lost, not his nose but
his sense of smell, lose nothing? Is there no faculty of
the mind, which brings gain to him that gets it and hurt
to him that loses it ?
' What can possibly be the faculty you mean ? '
Have we no natural sense of honour?
' We have.'
Does he that destroys this suffer no damage, no depriva
tion, no loss of what belongs to him? Have we not
a natural faculty of trust, a natural gift of affection, of
beneficence, of mutual toleration? Are we then to count
the man who suffers himself to be injured in regard to
these as free from loss and damage ?
To return 'What conclusion do you draw? Am I not to harm him
evil for evil who harmcd me ? '
is only
to harm First consider what 'harm means and remember what
ourselves. ^QU heard from the philosophers. For if good lies in the
will and evil also lies in the will, look whether what you
are saying does not come to this : ' What do you mean?
As he harmed himself by doing me a wrong, am I not to
harm myself by doing him a wrong? ' Why then do we
not look at things in this light ? When we suffer some loss
in body or property, we count it hurt : is there no hurt,
when we suffer loss in respect of our will ?
We fail Of course the man who is deceived or the man who
to make ^ a wrong has no pain ;n his head or his eye or his hip,
progress
because we nor does he lose his estate ; and these are the things we
pay no care for, nothing else. But we take no concern whatever
heed to
whether our will is going to be kept honourable and trust-
Book II y Chapter i o 175*
worthy or shameless and faithless, except only so far as we our natural
discuss it in the lecture-room, and therefore so far as our
wretched discussions go we make some progress, but
beyond them not the least.
CHAPTER XI
What is the beginning of Philosophy.
THE beginning of philosophy with those who approach Philo-
it in the right way and by the door is a consciousness of f°phy
, i j r • begins with
one s own weakness and want of power in regard to a sense
necessary things. For we come into the world with no °* one's
, . , , i , weakness,
innate conception ot a right-angled triangle, or of a quar
ter-tone or of a semi-tone, but we are taught what each
of these means by systematic instruction ; and therefore
those who are ignorant of these things do not think that
they know them. On the other hand every one has come Men have
into the world with an innate conception as to good and lnna.tecon;
ceptions of
bad, noble and shameful, becoming and unbecoming, hap- good and
piness and unhappiness, fitting and inappropriate, what ba^> happy
is right to do and what is wrong. Therefore we all use happy, but
these terms and try to fit our preconceived notions to par- differ m
applying
ticular facts. ' He did nobly', 'dutifully ', 'undutifully '. them.
'He was unfortunate', ' he was fortunate'; ' he is unjust ', 'he
is just.' Which of us refrains from these phrases ? Which
of us puts off using them until he is taught them, just as
men who have no knowledge of lines or sounds refrain
from talking of them ? The reason is that on the subject in
question we come into the world with a certain amount
How can
we get
beyond
these dif
ferences ?
176 Discourses of Epictetus
of teaching, so to say, already given us by nature ; to this
basis of knowledge we have added our own fancies.
' Why ! ' says he ; ' Do I not know what is noble and
what is shameful? Have I no conception of them? '
You have.
' Do I not fit my conception to particulars ? '
You do.
' Do I not fit them well then ? '
There lies the whole question and there fancy comes in.
For, starting with these admitted principles, men advance
to the matter in dispute, applying these principles inap
propriately. For if they really possessed this faculty as
well, what would prevent them from being perfect ? You
think that you apply your preconceptions properly to
particular cases ; but tell me, how do you arrive at this ?
I have such a conviction.
But another has a different conviction, has he not, and
yet believes, as you do, that he is applying his conception
rightly ?
He does.
Is it possible then for you both to apply your conceptions
properly in matters on which you hold contrary opinion ?
It is impossible.
Can you then point us to anything beyond your own
opinion which will enable us to apply our conceptions
better? Does the madman do anything else but what he
thinks right ? Is this criterion then sufficient for him too?
It is not.
Come, then, let us look for something beyond personal
opinion. Where shall we find it?
Book //, Chapter 1 1 1 7 7
Here you see the beginning of Philosophy, in the Philosophy
discovery of the conflict of men's minds with one another, is an at'
and the attempt to seek for the reason of this conflict, and finTa "
the condemnation of mere opinion, as a thing not to be standard
trusted ; and a search to determine whether your opinion
is true, and an attempt to discover a standard, just as
we discover the balance to deal with weights and the rule
to deal with things straight and crooked. This is the
beginning of Philosophy.
' Are all opinions right which all men hold ? ' which shall
Nay, how is it possible for contraries to be both right ? go be>T°nd
' \\r n u 11 ' personal
Well, then, not all opinions, but our opinions ? ' opinion
Why ours, rather than those of the Syrians or the andgiveus
T? principles
Egyptians, or the personal opinion of myself or of this which we
man or that ? can apply
' -IT/I • j j •< 5 with con-
Why indeed ? fidence-
So then, what each man thinks is not sufficient to make
a thing so : for in dealing with weights and measures we
are not satisfied with mere appearance, but have found
a standard to determine each. Is there, then, no standard
here beyond opinion ? It is impossible surely that things
most necessary among men should be beyond discovery
and beyond proof?
There is a standard then. Then, why do we not seek
it and find it, and having found it use it hereafter without
fail, never so much as ' stretching out our finger ' without
it? For it is this standard, I suppose, the discovery of
which relieves from madness those who wrongly use per
sonal opinion as their only measure, and enables us there-
after to start from known principles, clearly defined, and
546 .24 I * M
178 Discourses of Epic fetus
so to apply our conceptions to particulars in definite
and articulate form.
What subject, I might ask, lies before us for our present
discussion?
' Pleasure.'
Submit it to the rule, put it in the balance. Ought the
good to be something which is worthy to inspire con
fidence and trust?
' It ought.'
Is it proper to have confidence in anything which is
insecure ?
'No.'
Has pleasure; then, any certainty in it?
'No.'
Away with it then ! Cast it from the scales and drive
it far away from the region of good things. But if your
sight is not keen, and you are not satisfied with one set
of scales, try another.
Is it proper to be elated at what is good?
'It is.'
Is it proper, then, to be elated at the pleasure of the
moment? Be careful how you say that it is proper.
If you do, I shall not count you worthy of the scales.
Thus things are judged and weighed if we have standards
ready to test them : and in fact the work of philosophy
is to investigate and firmly establish such standards ; and
the duty of the good man is to proceed to apply the
decisions arrived at.
Book //, Chapter 12 179
CHAPTER XII
On the art of discussion.
OUR philosophers have precisely defined what a man We have
must learn in order to know how to argue : but we are ?0t learnt
... . _ < now to
still quite unpractised in the proper use of what we have argue, and
learnt. Give any one of us you like an unskilled person ^ make'1
to argue with, and he does not discover how to deal with the most
him : he just rouses the man for a moment, and then if jj^ewith
he answers him in the wrong key he cannot deal with him
any longer : he either reviles him or laughs at him ever
after, and says, ' He is an ignoramus, there is nothing to
be got out of him.'
But the true guide, when he finds a man wandering,
leads him to the right road, instead of leaving him with
a gibe or an insult. So should you do. Only show him
the truth and you will see that he follows. But so long
as you do not show it him, do not laugh at him, but rather
realize your own incapacity.
Now how did Socrates proceed ? He compelled the man Socrates'
who was conversing with him to be his witness, and needed was^he
no witness besides. Therefore he was able to say : 'I am right °ne,
satisfied with my opponent as a witness, and let every one JJJwitwai
else alone : and I do not take the votes of other people, ofhisinter-
but only of him who is arguing with me.' For he drew locutor'
out so clearly the consequences of a man's conceptions
that every one realized the contradiction and aban
doned it.
' Does the man who envies rejoice in his envy? '
M 2
1 8 o Discourses of Epictetus
' Not at all ; he is pained rather than pleased.'
Thus he rouses his neighbour by contradiction.
' Well, does envy seem to you to be a feeling of pain at
evil things? Yet how can there be envy of things evil? '
So he makes his opponent say that envy is pain felt at
good things.
' Again, can a man envy things which do not concern
him?'
' Certainly not.'
In this way he made the conception full and articulate,
and so went away. He did not say, 'Define me envy',
and then, when the man defined it, ' You define it ill, for
the terms of the definition do not correspond to the
Most of us subject defined.' Such phrases are technical and there-
cal phrases ^ore tiresorne to the lay mind, and hard to follow, yet you
and failing, and I cannot get away from them. We are quite unable
despair to rouse tne ordinary man's attention in a way which will
enable him to follow his own impressions and so arrive
at admitting or rejecting this or that. And therefore
those of us who are at all cautious naturally give the sub
ject up, when we become aware of this incapacity ;
while the mass of men, who venture at random into this
sort of enterprise, muddle others and get muddled them
selves, and end by abusing their opponents and getting
His good abused in return, and so leave the field. But the first
madcThim 4ua^ty °^ a^ m Socrates, and the most characteristic, was
a peace- that he never lost his temper in argument, never uttered
cer' anything abusive, never anything insolent, but bore
with abuse from others and quieted strife. If you would
get to know what a faculty he had in this matter, read the
Book //, Chapter
12
Banquet of Xenophon and you will see how many strifes
he has brought to an end. Therefore the poets too with
good reason have praised this gift most highly :
And straightway with skill be brought to rest a mighty
quarrel.
What follows? The occupation is not a very safe one But philo-
nowadays, and especially in Rome. For he who pursues it s°phlcd.ls"
' ' L J _ cussion is
will certainly not have to do it in a corner, but he must not easy,
go up to a consular or a rich man, if it so chance, and .esP^clally
. in Rome,
ask him : ' You there, can you tell me to whose care you
trust your horses? '
'Yes.'
Do you trust them to a chance comer and one unskilled
in horse-keeping?
' Certainly not.'
Again, tell me to whom you trust your gold or your
silver or your clothes.
' Not to a chance comer either.'
And your body — have you ever thought of trusting
that to anybody to look after it ?
' Certainly.'
He too, no doubt, is one skilled in the art of training or
of medicine, is he not ?
' Certainly he is.'
Are these then your best possessions or have you got
something besides, better than all?
' What can you mean ? '
I mean, of course, that which makes use of all these
possessions and tests each one, and thinks about them.
i 8 2 Discourses of Epictetus
' Do you mean the soul? '
You are right ; that is exactly what I do mean.
' Yes, I certainly think that this is a better possession
than all the rest.'
Can you tell me, then, in what manner you have taken
care of your soul? for it is not likely that one so wise
as you, and of such position in the state, should lightly
and recklessly allow the best possession you have to be
neglected and go to ruin.
' Certainly not.'
Well, have you taken care of it yourself? Did any one
teach you how, or did you find out for yourself?
When you do this, the danger is, you will find, that
first he will say : ' My good sir, what concern is it of
yours? Are you my master? ' Then, if you persist in
annoying him he will lift his hand and give you a
drubbing.
That (says Epictetus) was a pursuit I had a keen taste
for once, before I was reduced to my present condition.1
CHAPTER XIII
Concerning anxiety.
Anxiety WHEN I see a man in a state of anxiety, I say, ' What
implies can tnjs ma-n want ? ]f ne JJ^ not want something which
desire ior e i ...
something is not in his power, how could he still be anxious? It is for
not m one s tnjs reason that one who sings to the lyre is not anxious
Dower.
when he is performing by himself, but when he enters the
theatre, even if he has a very good voice and plays well :
Book //, Chapter 13 183
for he not only wants to perform well, but also to win
a great name, and that is beyond his own control.
In fact, where he has knowledge there he has confidence.
Bring in any unskilled person you like, and he pays no
heed to him. On the other hand he is anxious whenever
he has no knowledge and has made no study of the subject.
What does this mean ? He does not know what ' the
people ' is, nor what its praise is worth : he has learnt to
strike the bottom note or the top note, but he does not
know what the praise of the multitude is, nor what value
it has in life ; he has made no study of that. So he is To tremble
bound to tremble and grow pale. before the
people
When I see a man, then, in this state of fear I cannot say means
that he is no performer with the lyre, but I can say some- lgnc
thing else of him, and not one thing but many. And first
of all I call him a stranger and say, This man does not
know where in the world he is ; though he has been with
us so long, he does not know the laws and customs of the
City — what he may do and what he may not do — no, nor
has he called in a lawyer at any time to tell him and
explain to him what are the requirements of the law.
Of course he does not draw up a will without knowing how
he ought to draw it up, or without calling in one who
knows, nor does he lightly put his seal to a guarantee or
give a written security ; but he calls in no lawyer when
he is exercising the will to get and will to avoid, impulse
and intention and purpose.1 What do I mean by ' having
no lawyer ' ? I mean that he does not know that he is
wishing to have what is not given him, and wishing not to
have what he cannot avoid, and he docs not know1 what
184 Discourses of Epictetus
is his own and what is not his own. If he did know,
he would never feel hindrance or constraint or anxiety ;
how could he? Does any one fear about things which
are not evil?
'No.'
Or again about things which are evil but are in his
power to prevent?
' Certainly not.'
If we know If? then, nothing beyond our will's control is either good
what is in
our power or ev"> and everything within our will's control depends
and what entirely on ourselves, so that no one can take any such
is not we
need never thing away from us or win it for us against our will, what
be anxious, room is left for anxiety ? Yet we are anxious for our bit of
a body, for our bit of property, for what Caesar will
think, but are not anxious at all for what is within us.
Am I anxious about not conceiving a false thought?
No, for that depends on myself.
Or about indulging an impulse contrary to nature?
No, not about this either. So, when you see a man
pale, just as the physician, judging from his colour, says,
' This man's spleen is out of order, or that man's liver ',
so do you say, ' This man is disordered in the will to get
and the will to avoid, he is not in the right way, he is
feverish ' ; for nothing else changes the complexion and
causes a man to tremble and his teeth to chatter,
and droop the knee and sink upon his feet.
fore Zeno was not distressed when he was gc
Antigonus, for Antigonus had no authorit1
when he any of the things that Zeno admired, and Zeno paid no
That is Therefore Zeno was not distressed when he was gome to
why Zeno . .
w-is cairn meet Antigonus, for Antigonus had no authority over
Book 7/? Chapter 13 i 8 f
attention to the possessions of Antigonus. Antigonus met Anti-
was anxious when he was going to meet Zeno, and with s°r
good reason, for he wanted to please him, and this lay
beyond his control ; but Zeno did not wish to please
Antigonus, any more than any artist cares to please one
who has no skill.
Do I want to please you ? Why should I ? Do you To depend
know the standards by which man judges man? Have you 0]\ e *
made it your study to learn what a good man is and what another is
a bad man is, and what makes each of them so? Why, to adlut
* *
then, are you not good yourself?
'Not good? What do you mean?' he replies.
Why, no good man whines or groans or laments, no
good man grows pale or trembles or says, ' How will
he receive me ? What hearing will he give me ? '
Slave, he will do as he thinks good. What concern
have you in what does not belong to you ? Is it not his fault
if he gives a bad reception to what you offer?
' His fault, certainly.'
But can the fault be one man's-and the harm another's ?
'No.'
Why, then, are you anxious about another's concerns ?
'Nay, but I am anxious to know how I am to addresshim.'
What, is it not in your power to address him as you will ?
' Yes, but I am afraid I may lose my self-possession.'
Are you afraid of losing your self-possession when you
are going to write the name Dion?
' Certainly not.'
What is the reason? Is it not, that you have practised
writing ?
Art or skill
means con
fidence. If
you sur
render this
you are
a slave,
and must
go back
to your
corner.
i 8 6 Discourses of Epictetus
Of course it is. Or again, when you are about to read,
would you not be in like case?
' Exactly.'
What is the reason? The reason is that every art con
tains within it an element of strength and confidence.
Have you not practised speaking, then ? What else did you
study at school ? You studied syllogisms and variable argu
ments. What for? Was it not that you might converse
with skill, and does not 'with skill' mean in good season,
with security and good sense, and, more than that, with
out failure or hindrance, and, to crown all, with con
fidence ?
' Yes.'
Well, if you are a rider and have to confront a man on
foot in the plain, where you have the advantage of practice
and he has not, are you anxious?
' Nay, but he has power to put me to death.'
Miserable man, tell the truth and be not a braggart
nor claim to be a philosopher. Know who are your
masters. As long as you give them this hold over your
body, you must follow every one who is stronger than you.
But Socrates, who spoke to the Tyrants, to his judges,
and in prison, in the tone we know, had studied speaking
to some purpose. So had Diogenes, who spoke in the same
tone to Alexander, to Philip, to the pirates, to his purchaser.
. . . Leave this to those who have made it their concern,
to the confident : and do you go to your own concerns
and never leave them again. Go and sit in your corner
and weave syllogisms and propound them to others,
No ruler of a state is found in you.
Book //, Chapter 14 187
CHAPTER XIV
On Naso.
ONCE when a Roman came in with his son and was The pro-
listening to one of his lectures Epictetus said : ' This is ^chin
the method of my teaching', and broke off short. And philo-
when the Roman begged him to continue, he replied : — tbat^'
Every art, when it is being taught, is tiresome to one of other
who is unskilled and untried in it. The products of the !?re^!Le
arts indeed show at once the use they are made for, and
most of them have an attraction and charm of their own ;
for though it is no pleasure to be present and follow the
process by which a shoemaker learns his art, the shoe itself
is useful and a pleasant thing to look at as well. So too
the process by which a carpenter learns is very tiresome
to the unskilled person who happens to be by, but his
work shows the use of his art. This you will see still more
in the case of music, for if you are by when a man is being
taught you will think the process of all things the most
unpleasant, yet the effects of music are pleasant and
delightful for unmusical persons to hear.
So with philosophy ; we picture to ourselves the work The philo-
of the philosopher to be something of this sort : he must s?1' .er s
bring his own will into harmony with events, in such bring his
manner that nothing which happens should happen ^ ln'°
against our will, and that we should not wish for anything with
to happen that does not happen. The result of this is that e
those who have thus ordered their life do not fail to get
what they will, and do not fall into what they will to avoid :
To achieve
this he
must learn
that God
is, and try
to make
himself
like Him.
As a first
step, it is
necessary
to under
stand
terms.
188 Discourses of Epictetus
each man spends his own life free from pain, from fear,
and from distraction, and maintains the natural and
acquired relations which unite him to his fellows — the
part of son, father, brother, citizen, husband, wife, neigh
bour, fellow traveller, ruler, subject.
Such is the business of the philosopher as we picture it.
The next thing is that we seek how we are to achieve it.
Now we see that the carpenter becomes a carpenter by
learning certain things, the helmsman becomes a helms
man by learning certain things. May we, then, infer that
in the sphere of conduct too it is not enough merely to
wish to become good, but one must learn certain things?
We have, then, to look and see what these things are. The
philosophers say that the first thing one must learn is this :
' that God exists and provides for the universe, and it is
impossible for a man to act or even to conceive a thought
or reflection without God knowing. The next thing is
to learn the true nature of the gods. For whatever their
nature is discovered to be, he that is to please and obey
them must needs try, so far as he can, to make himself
like them.' If God is faithful, he must be faithful too ; if
free, he must be free too ; if beneficent, he too must be
beneficent : if high-minded, he must be high-minded :
he must, in fact, as one who makes God his ideal, follow
this out in every act and word.
' At what point, then, must we begin? '
If you attempt this task, I will tell you, that you must
first understand terms.
' What? Do you imply that I do not understand terms
now ? '
Book //, Chapter 14 189
You do not.
' How then do I use them? '
You use them as illiterate persons deal with written
sounds, as cattle deal with impressions : for it is one thing
to use them, and another to understand. If you think
you understand them, let us take any term you like and
put ourselves to the test, to see if we understand.
' But it is vexatious when one is getting old, and has No doubt
, . r . , ,1 , an old man
served, if it so chance, one s three campaigns, to be put Ofg00(j
through an examination.' 1 position
I know that as well as you. You have come to me being told
now as if you were in want of nothing : and indeed of his
what could you be imagined as wanting? You are rich, 8
you have children, it may be, and a wife and many servants,
the Emperor knows you, you possess many friends in
Rome, you perform the acts appropriate to you,2 you
know how to return good for good and evil for evil.
What do you lack? If I show you that you lack what is
most necessary and important for happiness, and that
hitherto you have paid attention to everything rather
than to acting appropriately, and if I conclude my criti
cism by saying that you do not know what God or man is,
or what good or evil is, though perhaps you may bear
being told of your ignorance in other ways, you cannot
bear with me when I say that you do not know your own
self ; how can you submit to examination and abide my
question? You cannot bear it at all : you go away at
once in disgust. And yet what evil have I done you ?
Unless indeed the mirror does harm to the ugly man, by but he
showing him what sort of man he is : unless the physician ou&nt not
to resent
being told
of his par
lous state.
In the
' world's
festival '
most
comers
care only
for what
they can
buy and
sell.
Only few
care to
know what
the world
means and
how it is
governed.
190 Discourses of Epictetus
too insults the sick man, when he says to him, ' Sir, you
think there is nothing wrong with you, but you are in
a fever ; take no food to-day and drink water ' ; and no
one says, ' What shocking insolence ! ' But if you say
to a man, ' There is fever in your will to get, your will to
avoid is degraded, your designs are inconsistent, your
impulses out of harmony with nature, your conceptions
random and false ', he goes away at once and says, ' He
insulted me !'
Our condition may be compared to the gathering at
a public festival. Cattle and oxen are brought thither
for sale, and the mass of men come to buy or to sell ; only
some few come to look at the assembled people and see
how and why the assembly gathers and who instituted it
and with what object. It is just the same here, in this
assembly of the world : some are like cattle and trouble
themselves about nothing but their fodder, for you who
busy yourselves with property and lands and servants and
public offices are busy with fodder and nothing else.
There are but few who come to this assembly with a desire
to see what really is the meaning of the universe and Who
governs it. Does no one govern it? How can that be?
A city or a household cannot endure even for a brief span
of time without one to govern and take charge of it, and
can this great and noble frame of things 3 be administered
in such good order by mere random chance?
There is, then, One who governs it. What is His nature
and how does He govern ? And we, what are we, His
creations, and to what work are we born ? Have we any
connexion and relation with Him or not? Such are the
thoughts which occur to these few, and so they devote
their time to this and this alone, to investigate the assem
bly of life before they leave it. What follows ? They are
laughed at by the multitude, just as in the other assembly
those who look on are laughed at by those who buy and
sell. Nay, the cattle themselves, if they shared our
perception, would laugh at those who have made anything
else but fodder the object of their wonder and regard !
CHAPTER XV
On those who cling stubbornly to their judgements.
THERE are some who when they hear these precepts — A man
that a man must be steadfast, and that the will is by m aydVe
nature a free thing and not subject to compulsion, whereas without
all else is subject to hindrance and compulsion, being in f1? .f to
J his judge-
bondage and dependence — imagine that they must abide ments im-
without swerving by every judgement that they have mutably-
formed. No — first of all the judgement arrived at must
be sound.
For I would have the body firmly braced, but it must
be the firmness of health and good condition ; if you
show me that you have the firmness of a madman and
boast of that, I shall say to you, ' Look, man, for some one
to cure you.' This is not firmness, but the opposite. To decide
Let me describe another state of mind to be found in ng Is
more im-
those who hear these precepts amiss. A friend of mine, portant
for instance, determined for no reason to starve himself. , ?? *?
abide by
I learnt of it when he was in the third day of his fasting, your de-
and went and asked him what had happened,
192 Discourses of Epictetus
' I have decided ', said he.
Yes, but, for all that, say what it was that per
suaded you ; for if your decision was right, here we are
at your side ready to help you to leave this life, but,
if your decision was against reason, then change your
mind.
' A man must abide by his decisions.'
What are you doing, man? Not all decisions, but right
decisions. For instance, if you were convinced at the
moment that it was night, abide by that opinion if you
think fit, and do not change it, but say, ' one must abide
by one's decisions.' l
Lay a Will you not lay this foundation to begin with — that is,
foundation examine your decision and see whether it is sound cr
first in unsound, and then afterwards build on it your firmness
decision anc^ unsnaken resolve? But if you lay a rotten and crum
bling foundation } ou will not be able to build even a tiny
building ; the more courses and the stronger that you
lay upon it the quicker will it collapse. You are removing
from life without any reason our familiar friend, our
fellow citizen in the great City and the small,2 and then,
though you are guilty of murder and of killing one who
has done no wrong, you say, ' I must abide by my decisions.'
If perchance it occurred to you to kill me, would you be
bound to abide by your decisions?
When you ' '
are in Well, I had much ado to persuade that friend to change
doubt call ^ mincl. But it is impossible to move some of the men
in advice, . r
as the sick of to-day, so that I think that I know now what I did not
man con- know before, the meaning of the familiar saying, ' A fool
doctor is not to be persuaded nor broken of his folly.' May
Book //, Chapter ly 193
it never be my lot to have for friend a wise fool : nothing
is more difficult to handle.
' I have decided.'
So have the madmen, but the more firmly they persist
in false judgements the more hellebore3 do they require.
Will you not act as the sick man should, and call in the
physician? As he says, 'I am sick, master; help me:
consider what I ought to do, it is for me to obey you ', so
you should say, ' I do not know what I ought to do, but
I have come to learn.' Oh no, you say : ' Talk to me about
other things ; this I have decided.' Other things indeed !
What is greater or more to your advantage than that you
should be convinced that it is not sufficient to have
decided and to refuse all change of mind? This is the
firmness of madness, not of health.
' If you force me to this, I would fain die.' Man-s ob.
Why, man, what has happened ? stinacy is
' I have decided.' asi8nof
weakness,
Lucky for me that you have not decided to kill me * not of
' I do not take fees.' strength.
Why?
' I have decided.'
Let me tell you that the same energy with which you now
refuse to take fees may incline you one day (what is to pre
vent it?) to take them and to say again, ' I have decided.'
Just as in an ailing body, which suffers from a flux,
the flux inclines now to this part and now to that, so it is
with a weak mind : no one can tell which way it
sways, but when this swaying and drift has energy to
back it, then the mischief becomes past help and remedy.
516-24 I N
194 Discourses of Epictetus
We fail in
conduct for
want of
practice in
applying
our prin
ciples.
As the
orator or
musician
suffers
agonies,
because he
does not
know the
true value
of his
audience,
CHAPTER XVI
That we do not practise applying our judgements about
things good and evil.
WHERE lies the good?
In a man's will.
Where lies evil ?
In the will.
Where is the neutral sphere?
In the region outside the will's control.
Well, now, does any one of us remember these principles
outside the lecture-room? Does any man practise by
himself to answer facts as he would answer questions ? For
instance, is it day? 'Yes.' Again, is it night ? 'No.'
Again, are the stars even in number? ' I cannot say.'
When money is shown you have you practised giving
the proper answer, that it is not a good thing? Have
you trained yourself in answers like this, or only to meet
fallacious arguments? Why are you surprised, then, that
you surpass yourself in the sphere where you have prac
tised, and make no progress where you are unpractised?
Why is it that the orator, though he knows that he has
written a good speech, and has got by heart what he has
written, and brings a pleasant voice to his task, still feels
anxiety in spite of all? The reason is that merely to de
claim his speech does not content him. What does he
want then? To be praised by his audience. Now he has
been trained to be able to declaim, but he has not been
trained in regard to praise and blame. For when did he
Book 77, Chapter 16 195-
hear from any one what praise is and what blame is : what
is the nature of each, what manner of praise must be
pursued, and what manner of blame must be avoided?
When did he go through this training in accordance with
these principles?
Why, then, are you still surprised that he is superior to
others in the things he has been taught, and on a level
with the mass of men in the things he has not studied ?
He is like the singer accompanying the lyre who knows
how to play, sings well, and wears a fine tunic, and yet
trembles when he comes on ; for though he has all this
knowledge he does not know what the people is or the
clamour or mockery of the people. Nay, he does not
even know what this anxiety is that he is feeling, whether
it depends on himself or on another, whether it can be
suppressed or not. Therefore, if men praise him, he leaves
the stage puffed up ; if they mock him, his poor bubble
of conceit is pricked and subsides.
Very much the same is our position. What do we so we live
admire? External things. What are we anxious about? the^uture
External things. And yet we are at a loss to know how forgetting
fears or anxiety assail us ! What else can possibly happen r° s gl ts
when we count impending events as evil? We cannot be and en-
free from fear, we cannot be free from anxiety. Yet we durance-
say, ' O Lord God, how am I to be rid of anxiety? ' Fool,
have you no hands? Did not God make them for you?
Sit still and pray forsooth, that your rheum may not flow.
Nay, wipe your nose rather and do not accuse God.
What moral do I draw? Has not God given you any
thing in the sphere of conduct ? Has He not given you en-
N 2
i<?6 Discourses of Epictetiis
durance, has Henotgivenyou greatness of mind, has He not
given you manliness ? When you have these strong hands to
help you, do you still seek for one to wipe your rheum away ?
Instead of But we do not piactise such conduct nor pay attention
our'activi- to *t- F^d me one man who cares how he is going to
ouractivi-
ties in do a thing, who is interested not in getting something but
we care for *n reahzmg his true nature. Who is there that when
what they walking is interested in his own activity, or when deli-
^ berating is interested in the act of deliberation, and not
in getting that for which he is planning? And then if he
succeeds he is elated and says, ' What a fine plan that was
of ours ! Did not I tell you, my brother, that if we have
thought a thing out it is bound to happen so ? ' But if
he fails he is humbled and miserable, and cannot find
anything to say about what has happened. Which of us
ever called in a prophet in order to realize his true nature?
Which of us ever slept in a temple of dreams for this?
Name the man. Give me but one, that I may set eyes on
him I have long been seeking for, the man who is truly
noble and has fine feeling ; be he young or old, give me
one.
We are Why, then, do we wonder any more that, whereas we are
fluent in , .. . , ....
thelecture- °iulte at home in dealing with material things, when we
room, but come to express ourselves in action we behave basely
life are full an^ unseemly, are worthless, cowardly, unenduring,
of fears. failures altogether? But if we kept our fear not for death
or exile, but for fear itself, then we should practise to
avoid what we think evil. As it is we are glib and fluent
in the lecture-room, and if any paltry question arises
about a point of conduct, we are capable of pursuing the
Book //, Chapter 16 197
subject logically ; but put us to the practical test and
you will find us miserable shipwrecks. Let a distracting
thought occur to us and you will soon find out for what
we were studying and training. The result of our want
of practice is that we are always heaping up terrors and
imagining things bigger than they really are. When I go
a voyage, as soon as I gaze down into the deep or look
round on the sea and find no land, I am beside myself,
imagining that if I am wrecked I must swallow all this
sea, for it never occurs to me that three quarts are enough
for me. What is it alarms me? The sea? No, but my
judgement about it. Again, when an earthquake hap
pens, I imagine that the city is going to fall on me. What !
Is not a tiny stone enough to knock my brains out?
What, then, are the burdens that weigh upon us and It is our
drive us out of our minds? What else but our judgements? ^T
When a man goes away and leaves the companions and the ments that
places and the society that he is used to, what else is it |^Ui
that weighs upon him but judgement? Children, when
they cry a little because their nurse has left them, forget
her as soon as they are given a bit of cake.
' Do you want us to be like children too ? '
No, not at all ; it is not by cake I would have you in- In order to
fluenced, but by true judgements. What do I mean? have true
T 1-1 judge-
1 mean the judgements that a man must study all day ments, we
long, uninfluenced by anything that does not concern must keep
, . ii_ • the law of
him, whether it be companion or place or gymnasia, or God before
even his own body ; he must remember the law and keep our eyes'
this before his eyes.
What is the law of God?
198 Discourses of Epictetus
To guard what is your own, not to claim what is
another's ; to use what is given you, not to long for
anything if it be not given ; if anything be taken away,
to give it up at once and without a struggle, with gratitude
for the time you have enjoyed it, if you would not cry
and learn for your nurse and your mammy. For what difference
not to ^^ -t make wnat a man is a slave to, and what he de-
depend on
anything pends on ? How are you better than one who weeps for
beyond our a mistresS) if vou break your heart for a paltry gymna
sium and paltry colonnades and precious young men and
that sort of occupation ? Here comes a man complaining
that he is not to drink the water of Dirce any more.1
What ! is not the Marcian water as good as that of
Dirce ?
' Nay, but I was used to the other.'
Yes, and you will get used to this in turn. I say, if such
things are going to influence you, go away and cry for it,
and try to write a line like that of Euripides,
The baths of Nero and the Marcian spring.
See how tragedy arises when fools have to face everyday
events !
Why pine ' When shall I see Athens again, then, and the Acro-
for Athens, poijs ? '
when you -11
can see the Unhappy man, are you not content with what you see
sun and ^ jay by jay? can yOU set eyes on anything better or
greater than the sun, the moon, the stars, the whole earth,
the ocean? And if you really understand Him that governs
the universe and if you carry Him about within you, do
you still long for paltry stones and pretty rock? 2 What
Book //, Chapter 16
99
will you do, then, when you are going to leave the very
sun and moon? Shall you sit crying like little children?
What were you doing, then, at school ? What did you hear ?
What did you learn? Why did you write yourself down
a philosopher when you might have written the truth,
saying, ' I did a few Introductions and read Chrysippus'
sayings, but I never entered the door of a philosopher.
What share have I in the calling of Socrates, who lived
and died so nobly, or of Diogenes? Can you imagine one
of them weeping or indignant, because he is not going
to see this man or that or be in Athens or in Corinth,
but in Susa, if it so chance, or Ecbatana? Does he who
may leave the banquet when he will and play no longer,
vex himself while he stays on? Does he not stay at
play just as long as it pleases him? Do you suppose the
man I describe would endure interminable exile or con
demnation to death?
Will you not be weaned at last, as children are, and take
more solid food, and cease to cry ' nurse ' and ' mammy ',
cries for old women's ears?
' But I shall distress them ', you say, ' by departing.'
You will distress them ? No, you will not distress
them ; what distresses them and you is judgement.3
What can you do then? Get rid of your judgement :
theirs, if they do well, they will get rid of themselves, or
they will sorrow for it and have themselves to thank.
Man, be bold at last, even to despair,4 as the phrase is,
that you may have peace and freedom and a lofty mind.
Lift up your neck at last, as one released from slavery.
Have courage to look up to God and say, ' Deal with me
Studies are
of no use
unless they
enable you
to share
the atti
tude of
Socrates or
Diogenes.
It is time
to put
away
childish
thoughts
and look
to God and
accept
His will.
Heracles,
the obe
dient son
of Zeus,
should be
your
model.
Cleanse
your heart
as he
cleansed
the world.
200 Discourses of Epictetus
hereafter as Thou wilt, I am as one with Thee, I am Thine.
I flinch from nothing so long as Thou thinkest it good.
Lead me, where Thou wilt, put on me what raiment Thou
wilt. Wouldst Thou have me hold office, or eschew it,
stay or fly, be poor or rich ? For all this I will defend Thee
before men. I will show each thing in its true nature,
as it is.'
Nay, stay rather in the cow's belly and wait for your
mammy's milk to fill you.5 What would have become of
Heracles, if he had stayed at home ? He would have been
Eurystheus, and no Heracles.
But tell me, how many friends and companions had he,
as he went about the world ? No nearer friend than God :
and that is why he was believed to be son of Zeus, and
was so. Obedient to Him, he went about the world,
cleansing it of wrong and lawlessness.
Do you say you are no Heracles, nor able to get rid of
other men's evils, not even a Theseus, to cleanse Attica
of ills?
Cleanse your own heart, cast out from your mind,
not Procrustes and Sciron, but pain, fear, desire, envy,
ill will, avarice, cowardice, passion uncontrolled. These
things you cannot cast out, unless you look to God
alone, on Him alone set your thoughts, and consecrate
yourself to His commands. If you wish for anything
else, with groaning and sorrow you will follow what is
stronger than you, ever seeking peace outside you, and
never able to be at peace : for you seek it where it is not,
and refuse to seek it where it is.
from con
ceit.
Book II j Chapter 17 201
CHAPTER XVII
How we must adjust our primary conceptions to particular
things.
WHAT is the first business of the philosopher? To cast Thephilo-
away conceit: for it is impossible for a man to begin ^Jsinessis
learning what he thinks he knows. When we go to to free us
the philosophers we all bandy phrases freely of things to
be done and not to be done, of things good and bad, noble
and base ; we make them the ground of our praise and
blame, accusation and disparagement, pronouncing judge
ment on noble and base conduct and distinguishing
between them. But what do we go to the philosophers
for? To learn in their school what we think we do not
know. What is that? Principles.1 For we want to learn
what the philosophers talk of, some of us because we
think their words witty and smart, and others in hope to
make profit of them. It is absurd, then, to think that
a man will learn anything but what he wishes to learn,
or in fact that he will make progress if he does not learn.
But the mass of men are under the same delusion as We have
Theopompus the rhetor, when he criticized Plato because Primary
concep-
he wanted to define every term. What are his words? tions al-
' Did none of us before you talk of "good" or " just", ready' ^
'are unable
or did we use the terms vaguely and idly without under- to apply
standing what each of them meant ? ' them.
Who told you, Theopompus, that we had not natural
notions and primary conceptions of each of these? But
it is impossible to adjust the primary conceptions to the
2 o 2 Discourses of Epictetus
appropriate facts, without making them articulate and
without considering just this — what fact must be ranged
under each conception.
You may say just the same thing, for instance, to physi
cians. Which of us did not use the words ' healthy '
and ' diseased ' before Hippocrates was born ? Were
those terms we used mere empty sounds ? No, we
have a conception of ' healthy ', but we cannot apply it.
Therefore one physician says, ' Take no food ',2 and another
' Give food ', and one says, ' Cut the vein ', and another,
' Use the cupping-glass.' What is the reason? Nothing
but incapacity to apply the conception of ' the healthy'
to particulars in the proper way.
We talk of So it is here in life. Which of us does not talk of 'good'
id°'bad' and 'bad', 'expedient 'and 'inexpedient'? Which of us has
but our not a primary conception of each of these? Is that con-
i^"otptl"n ception, then, articulate and complete? Prove it. How
articulate, am I to prove it? Apply it properly to particular facts.
To begin with, Plato makes his definitions conform to
the conception of 'the useful ', you to the conception of
' the useless '. Is it possible, then, for both of you to be
right? Of course not. Does not one man apply his
primary conception of ' good ' to wealth while another does
not? Another applies it to pleasure, another to health.
To sum up, if all of us who use these terms really know
them adequately as well, and if we need take no pains to
make our conceptions articulate, why do we quarrel and
make war and criticize one another ?
If you Indeed, I need not bring forward our contentions with
ply your one another and make mention of them. Take yourself
•
Book //, Chapter 17 203
alone ; if you apply your preconceptions properly, why concep-
do you feel miserable and hampered? Let us dismiss for Der[v vou
the moment the Second Department 3 of study, that would not
concerned with impulses and with what is fitting in rela- ^^
tion to them. Let us dismiss also the Third Department,3
that of assents. I grant you all this. Let us confine
ourselves to the First Department,3 where we have
almost sensible demonstration that we do not apply our
preconceptions properly. Do you now will things
possible, and possible for you? Why, then, do you feel
hindered and miserable? Do you now refuse to shun
what is necessary? Why, then, do you fall into trouble
and misfortune? Why does a thing not happen when you
will it, and happen when you do not will it, for this is
the strongest proof of misery and misfortune? I will
a thing, and it does not happen ; what could be more
wretched than I ? I will it not and it happens ; again,
what is more wretched than I ?
It was because she could not endure this that Medea Medea's
was led to kill her children : and the act showed a great a.ct
snowed a
nature ; for she had a right conception of what it means great
for one's will not to be realized. ' Then ', said she, nature»
astray
' I shall thus take vengeance on him who did me wrong through
and outrage. Yet what is the good of putting him in ignorance
of what it
this misery? What am I to do then? I kill my children, means to
but I shall also be punishing myself. What do I care? ' reallze
r . one s will.
This is the aberration of a mind of great force ; for she
did not know where the power lies to do what we will ;
that we must not get it from outside, nor by disturbing
or disarranging events. Do not will to have your
\
204 Discourses of Epictetus
husband, and then nothing that you will fails to happen.
Do not will that he should live with you in all circum
stances, do not will to stay in Corinth : in a word, will
nothing but what God wills. Then who shall hinder
you, who compel you? You will be as free as Zeus
If you Himself.
your will When you have a leader such as this, and identify your
with God's will with His, you need never fear failure any more. But,
troubles once make a gift to poverty and wealth of your will to get
are at an and your will to avoid, and you will fail and be unfortunate.
Give them to health and you will be unhappy : or to
office, honour, country, friends, children — in a word, if
you give them to anything beyond your will's control. But
give them to Zeus and to the other gods ; hand them to
their keeping, let them control them, and command them,
and you can never be miserable any more. But if, O man
of no endurance, you are envious, pitiful, jealous, timorous,
and never go a day without bewailing yourself and the
gods, how can you call yourself a philosopher any more?
True edu- Philosophy indeed ! Just because you worked at variable
cation con- .. . , „,.„ „ , . .,
sists not in syllogisms: Will you not unlearn all this, it you can, and
learning begin at the beginning again, and realize that so far you
but in ' never touched the matter, and, beginning here, build
realizing further on this foundation, so that nothing shall be when
freedom as ... . , . , ,, .,, . ,
the friend 7OU wl^ lt: not' nothmg shall not be when you will it ?
of God. Give me one young man who has come to school with this
purpose, ready to strive at this, like one at the games, say
ing, ' For my part let all else go for nothing : I am content
if I shall be allowed to spend my life unhindered and free
from pain, and to lift my neck like a free man in face of facts,
Book 77, Chapter 17 205-
and to look up to heaven as God's friend, fearing nothing
that can happen.' Let one of you show himself in this
character, that I may say, ' Come to your own, young
man : for it is your destiny to adorn philosophy, these
possessions are yours, the books and theories are for you.'
Then, when he has worked at this subject and made him
self master of it, let him come again and say to me,
' I wish to be free from passion and disquiet, and to know
in a religious and philosophic and devoted spirit how it
is fitting for me to behave towards the gods, towards my
parents, my brothers, my country, and towards foreigners.'
Enter now on the Second Department : this is yours
too.
'Yes, but now I have studied the Second Department ;
next I should wish to be secure and unshaken, and that
not only in my waking hours, but in my sleep and in my
cups and when distraught.'
Man, you are a god, you have great designs !
' No,' he replies, ' I want to understand what Chrysip- Mere read-
pus says in his treatise on " The Liar ".' 4
' , writing
That 's your design, is it, my poor fellow? Take it and books is of
go hang ! What good will it do you ? You will read all the no avail-
treatise with sorrow and repeat it to others with trembling.
That is just how you behave. ' Would you like me to
read to you, brother, and you to me? ' ' Man, you are
a wonderful writer ' : and, ' You have a great turn for
Xenophon's style', and, 'You for Plato's', and, 'You for
Antisthenes'.' And after all, when you have related
your dreams to one another, you return again to the
same behaviour as before : the same will to get and will
206 Discourses of Epictetus
to avoid, the same impulses and designs and purposes,
the same prayers, the same interests. Then you never
look for any one to remind you of the truth, but are
vexed if any one reminds you. Then you say, ' He is an
unamiable man ; he did not weep when I left home nor
say, "What difficulties you are going to \5 my son, if you
return safe, I will light some lamps." This is what an
amiable man would say.' Great good you will get if
you return safe ! It is worth while lighting a lamp for
such as you, for you ought no doubt to be free from disease
and death !
Philo- We must, then, as I say, put off this fancy of thinking
sop y is t^at we know anything useful, and we must approach
a serious '
study, like philosophy as we approach the study of geometry and
geometry musjc . otherwise we shall not come near making progress,
and music.
even if we go through all the Introductions and treatises
of Chrysippus and Antipater and Archedemus.
CHAPTER XVIII
How we must struggle against impressions.
Habit and EVERY habit and every faculty is confirmed and
acu .tyj""6 strengthened by the corresponding acts, the faculty of
and con- walking by walking, that of running by running. If you
rme. y wish to have a faculty for reading, read ; if for writing,
exercise. J
write. When you have not read for thirty days on end,
but have done something else, you will know what happens.
So if you lie in bed for ten days, and then get up and try
to take a fairly long walk, you will see how your legs lose
Book 77, Chapter 18 207
their power. So generally if you wish to acquire a habit
for anything, do the thing ; if you do not wish to acquire
the habit, abstain from doing it, and acquire the habit of
doing something else instead. The same holds good in
things of the mind : when you are angry, know that you
have not merely done ill, but that you have strengthened
the habit, and, as it were, put fuel on the fire. When you
yield to carnal passion you must take account not only
of this one defeat, but of the fact that you have fed your
incontinence and strengthened it. For habits and faculties
are bound to be affected by the corresponding actions ;
they are either implanted if they did not exist before, or
strengthened and intensified if they were there already.
This is exactly how philosophers say that morbid habits Unless
spring up in the mind. For when once you conceive a *au'ts ar^
r m ° r . . , corrected
desire for money, if reason is applied to make you realize the by reason
evil, the desire is checked and the Governing Principle "1CX are ,
confirmed,
recovers its first power ; but if you give it no medicine to
heal it, it will not return to where it was, but when stimu
lated again by the appropriate impression it kindles to desire
quicker than before. And if this happens time after time
it ends by growing hardened, and the weakness confirms the
avarice in a man. For he who has a fever and gets quit
of it is not in the same condition as before he had it, unless
he has undergone a complete cure. The same sort of
thing happens with affections of the mind. They leave
traces behind them like weals from a blow, and if a man
does not succeed in removing them, when he is flogged
again on the same place his weals turn into sores. If, then, jj0 not add
you wish not to be choleric, do not feed the angry habit, ^ue' to l^e
208 Discourses of Epictetus
Hames of do not add fuel to the fire. To begin with, keep quiet
passion. , , ,
but check ancl count tne days when you were not angry. I used to
it- be angry every day, then every other day, then every three
days, then every four. But if you miss thirty days, then
sacrifice to God : for the habit is first weakened and then
wholly destroyed.
I kept free from distress to-day, and again next day,
and for two or three months after ; and when occasions
arose to provoke it, I took pains to check it.
Know that you are doing well.
To check To-day when I saw a handsome woman I did not
a growing lr ,- xTT , , ,
passion is Sa7 to m7self> Would that she were mine ! and
better than ' Blessed is her husband ! ' For he who says that will say,
a fallacy. ' Blessed is the adulterer ! ' Nor do I picture the next
scene : the woman present and disrobing and reclining by
my side. I pat myself on the head and say, ' Bravo, Epi
ctetus, you have refuted a pretty fallacy, a much prettier
one than the so-called ' Master '.* And if, though the
woman herself, poor thing, is willing and beckons and
sends to me, and even touches me and comes close to me,
I still hold aloof and conquer : the refutation of this
fallacy is something greater than the argument of ' The
Liar ', or the ' Resting ' argument.2 This is a thing to be
really proud of, rather than of propounding the
' Master ' argument.
To do this, How, then, is this to be done? Make up your mind at
you must , , , , ,
resolve to *ast to Please your true sell, make up your mind to appear
be pure noble to God ; set your desires on becoming pure in the
'presence of your pure self and God. 'Then when an
impression of that sort assails you ', says Plato, ' go and
Book //, Chapter 18 209
offer expiatory sacrifices, go as a suppliant and sacrifice
to the gods who avert evil ' : it is enough even if ' you
withdraw to the society of the good and noble ' and set
yourself to compare them with yourself, whether your or find a
pattern be among the living or the dead. Go to Socrates ^ 3rnt,
and see him reclining with Alcibiades and making light of great
his beauty. Consider what a victory, what an Olym- ^eroe^'llke
pic triumph, he won over himself — and knew it — what
place he thus achieved among the followers of Heracles !
a victory that deserves the salutation, ' Hail, admirable
victor, who hast conquered something more than these
worn-out boxers and pancratiasts and the gladiators who
are like them ! ' If you set these thoughts against your
impression, you will conquer it, and not be carried away
by it. But first of all do not be hurried away by the It is a
suddenness of the shock, but say, ' Wait for me a little, fgcuritv
impression. Let me see what you are, and what is at not to be
stake : let me test you '. And, further, do not allow it to a^y vv
go on picturing the next scene. If you do, it straight- base im-
way carries you off whither it will. Cast out this filthy Pre
impression and bring in some other impression, a lovely
and noble one, in its place. I say, if you acquire the
habit of training yourself thus, you will see what shoulders
you get, what sinews, what vigour ; but now you have
only paltry words and nothing more.
The man who truly trains is he who disciplines himself but this
to face such impressions. Stay, unhappy man ! be not
carried away. Great is the struggle, divine the task ; the
stake is a kingdom, freedom, peace, an unruffled spirit.
Remember God, call Him to aid and support you, as
546.24 1 O
210
Discourses of Epictetus
voyagers call in storm to the Dioscuri.3 Can any storm
be greater than that which springs from violent impres
sions that drive out reason? For what is storm itself but
an impression ? Take away the fear of death, and you may
bring as much thunder and lightning as you will, and
you will discover what deep peace and tranquillity is in
your mind. But if you once allow yourself to be defeated
and say that you will conquer hereafter, and then do the
same again, be sure that you will be weak and miserable ;
you will never notice hereafter that you are going wrong,
but will even begin to provide excuses for your conduct :
and then you will confirm the truth of Hesiod's words,
' A dilatory man is ever wrestling with calamities '.
There are
three pro
positions
on the re
lations of
which the
' Master '
argument
is based.
CHAPTER XIX
To those who take up the principles of the philosophers only
to discuss them.
THE ' Master ' argument appears to have been pro
pounded on some such basis as this.
There are three propositions which are at variance
with one another1 — i.e. any two with the third —
namely, these : (l) everything true as an event in the past
is necessary ; (2) the impossible does not follow from
the possible ; (3) what neither is true nor will be is
yet possible. Diodorus, noticing this conflict of state
ments, used the probability of the first two to prove
the conclusion, ' Nothing is possible which neither is nor
will be true '. Some one else, however, will maintain
another pair of these propositions. What neither is nor
Book 77, Chapter 1 9
211
will be true is yet possible ', and, ' The impossible does
not follow from the possible ', while rejecting the
third, 'Everything true in the past is necessary', as
appears to be the view of Cleanthes and his school, who
have been supported to a large extent by Antipater.
Others maintain the third pair, 'What neither is true nor
will be is yet possible ', and ' Everything true as an event
in the past is necessary', and reject 'The impossible does
not follow from the possible '. But to maintain all three
propositions at once is impracticable, because every pair
is in conflict with the third.
If, then, some one ask me, 'But which of these do you If I am
maintain ? ' I shall answer him that I do not know, but fSjjgj. vje
the account I have received is that Diodorus maintained I take of it
one pair, and the school of Panthoides and Cleanthes, I
fancy, the second, and the school of Chrysippus the third, three
'What do you hold then?'
I have never given my mind to this, to put my own
impression to the test and compare different views and
form a judgement of my own on the subject : therefore
I am no better than a grammarian.
' Who was Hector's father? '
Priam.
' Who were his brothers ? '
Paris and Deiphobus.
' And who was their mother ? '
Hecuba. That is the account I have received.
' From whom ? '
From Homer : and Hellanicus also writes on the same
subject, I believe, and others of the same class.
02
212
Discourses of Epictetus
So it is with me and the ' Master ' argument : I go no
further. But if I am a vain person I cause the utmost
amazement among the company at a banquet by enumera
ting those who have written on the subject. ' Chrysippus
also has written admirably in the first book of his treatise
" On the possible ". Cleanthes, too, has written a special
book on this, and Archedemus. AndAntipater also has
written, not only in his book on " The possible ", but also
specially in his work on ' the Master ' argument. Have
you not read the treatise ? '
' I have not read it.'
But mere Read it.
tionai And what good will he get from it ? He will only be
knowledge more silly and tiresome than he is now. For what have
use unless 7OU §ot by reading it ? What judgement have you formed
you learn on the subject ? You will only tell us of Helen and Priam
youTpnn- an^ tne island of Calypso, which never was nor will be.
ciples to And indeed in the field of literature it does not matter
much that you should master the received account and
have formed no judgement of your own. But we are
much more liable to this fault in matters of conduct
than in literary matters.
' Tell me about things good and evil.'
Listen.
The'philo- From Ilion to the Cicones I came,
s°P^er> Wind-borne.
quotes
ethics as
glibly as « Qf things that are, some are good, some bad, some
his Homer,
but with- indifferent. The virtues and all that share in them are
put realiz- gOO(} vices and all that share in them are bad, and all
ing it.
Book 77, Chapter 19 213
that comes between is indifferent — wealth, health, life,
death, pleasure, pain.'
How do you know?
' Hellanicus says so in his history of Egypt.' For you
might just as well say that as say ' Diogenes or Chrysippus
or Cleanthes said so in his Ethics '. I ask, have you put Life is the
any of these doctrines to the test, and formed a judge- ti, ' :s:s
ment of your own? Show us how you are wont to bear of storm or
yourself in a storm on shipboard. Do you remember this K^fo™°nS
distinction of good and bad when the sail cracks and you Caesar
cry aloud to heaven, and some bystander, untimely merry, £
says 'Tell me, by the gods, what have you been telling us
lately? Is it a vice to suffer shipwreck? Does it partake
of vice? ' Will you not take up a belaying pin and give
him a drubbing ? ' What have we to do with you, fellow ?
We are perishing, and you come and mock us.'
Again, if you are sent for by Caesar and are accused,
do you remember the distinction ? As you enter with
a pale face, and trembling withal, suppose some one
comes up and says to you, ' Why do you tremble, man ?
What are you concerned about ? Does Caesar put vir
tue and vice in the hearts of those who come before
him?'
' Why do you mock me, as though I had not miseries
enough ? '
Nay, philosopher, tell me why you tremble. Is it
not of death you stand in danger, or prison or pain of
body or exile or disgrace, nothing else? Is it wickedness,
or anything that partakes of wickedness? And what did
you tell us that all these were ?
214 Discourses of Epictetus
' Man, what have I to do with you? My own evils are
enough for me.'
Well said, indeed : for your own evils are indeed
enough — meanness, cowardice, the boasting spirit, which
you showed when you sat in the lecture-room. Why did
you pride yourself on what was not your own ? Why
did you call yourself a Stoic ?
The occa- Watch your own conduct thus and you will discover to
sion will wh.at school you belong. You will find that most of you
show what 7 /
school you are Epicureans and some few Peripatetics, but with all the
really fibre gone from you. Where have you shown that you
belong to. J
really hold virtue to be equal to all else, or even superior?
Show me a Stoic if you can ! Where or how is he to be
found? You can show me men who use the fine phrases
of the Stoics, in any number, for the same men who
do this can recite Epicurean phrases just as well and can
repeat those of the Peripatetics just as perfectly ; is it
not so?
Who then is a Stoic?
Show me a man moulded to the pattern of the judge
ments that he utters, in the same way as we call a statue
Phidian that is moulded according to the art of Phidias.
Show me one who is sick and yet happy, in peril and yet
happy, dying and yet happy, in exile and happy, in dis-
The true grace and happy. Show him me. By the gods I would
Stoic is he fajn see a Stoic. Nay you cannot show me a finished
whose soul . .
desires to Stoic ; then show me one in the moulding, one who has
be at one set h;s feet on ^g path. Do me this kindness, do not
with God. f '
grudge an old man like me a sight I never saw till now.
What ! you think you are going to show me the Zeus of
Book //, Chapter 19 21 f
Phidias or his Athena, that work of ivory and gold? It
is a soul I want ; let one of you show me the soul of a man
who wishes to be at one with God, and to blame God or
man no longer, to fail in nothing, to feel no misfortune,
to be free from anger, envy, and jealousy — one who (why
wrap up my meaning?) desires to change his manhood for
godhead, and who in this poor dead body of his has his
purpose set upon communion with God. Show him to
me. Nay, you cannot. Why, then, do you mock your
selves, and trifle with others? Why do you put on a
character which is not your own, and walk about like
thieves and robbers in these stolen phrases and properties
that do not belong to you ?
And so now I am your teacher, and you are at school That is the
with me : and my purpose is this, to make you my com- ™* the
pleted work, untouched by hindrance or compulsion, or would fain
constraint, free, tranquil, happy, looking to God in Procluce<
everything small or great ; and you are here to learn and
practise these things. Why, then, do you not finish the
work, if indeed you also have the purpose you should
have, and if I have the purpose and the proper equipment
also? What is it that is wanting? When I see a craftsman
and material ready to his hand, I look for the finished work.
Now here, too, is the craftsman, and here is the material.
What do we lack? Is not the subject teachable? It is
teachable. Is it not within our power then? Nay, it is
the one thing of all others which is in our power. Wealth
is not in our power, nor health, nor anything else, in a
word, except the proper use of impressions. This alone, by If teacher
nature's gift, is unhindered and untrammelled. Why, an pupl
2i 6 Discourses of Epictetus
then, do you not finish, the work ? Tell me the reason : for
it lies either in me or in you or in the nature of the thing.
work to
gether, it
may be
achieved. The achievement itself is possible, and rests with us alone.
It follows then that the reason lies in me or in you, or,
more truly, in both. What is my conclusion? Let us
begin, if you only will, to carry out such purpose here
and now. Let us leave behind what is past. Only let
us begin ; have trust in me, and you shall see.
The Aca
demics
claim
assent,
though
they deny
that assent
is possible.
CHAPTER XX
Against followers of Epicurus and of the Academy.
EVEN those who contradict propositions that are true
and evident are obliged to make use of them. And
indeed one may almost give as the strongest proof that
a thing is evident that even he who contradicts it finds
himself obliged to make use of it. For instance, if one
should deny that any universal statement is true, plainly
he cannot help asserting the contrary.
' No universal statement is true.'
Slave, this is not true either : for what else is your
assertion than, ' If a statement is universal, it is false?'
Again, if one comes forward and says, ' Know that nothing
is knowable, but that everything is unprovable,' or
another says, ' Believe me, and it will be to your advan
tage ; you ought not to believe a man at all ' ; or again,
if another says, ' Learn from me, man, that it is impossible
to learn anything ; I tell you this, and will teach you, if
you will.' What difference is there between such persons
Book //, Chapter 20 217
and — whom shall I say? — those who call themselves
Academics ? ' Men, give your assent to the statement
that no man assents ! '
' Believe us that no man believes any one ! ' 1
So too Epicurus, when he wishes to get rid of the Epicurus
natural fellowship of men with one another, makes use of i
the very principle of which he is getting rid. For what fellowship,
does he say? ' Men, be not deceived, be not misled or U S
deluded. There is no natural fellowship of rational cognised it
beings with one another : believe me. Those who state
the contrary deceive you and mislead your reason.'
What concern, then, is it of yours ? Let us be deceived.
Will you come off any the worse if the rest of us are all
convinced that we have a natural fellowship with one
another and that we are bound by all means to guard it ?
Nay, your position will be much better and more secure.
Man, why do you take thought for our sake, why do you
keep awake for us, why do you light your lamp, why do
you rise early, why do you write such big books ? Is it to
prevent any of us being deluded into thinking that the
gods have any care for mankind, or to prevent us from
supposing that the nature of the good is anything but
pleasure ? For if this is so, be off with you and go to sleep ;
do as the worm does, for this is the life of which you
pronounce yourself worthy : eating, drinking, copulation,
evacuation, and snoring.
What does it matter to you, what opinions others will The Epicu-
hold on these matters, or whether they are right or wrong? reserve°his
What have we to do with you ? You take interest in sheep doctrine
because they offer themselves to be shorn and milked and
2 1 8 Discourses of Epictetus
fellows, finally to be slaughtered by us. Would it not be desirable
advantage ^ men cou^ be charmed and bewitched by the Stoics into
of the slumber, and offer themselves to you and those like you
the world to ^e s^orn and milked ? These sentiments were proper
enough to utter to your fellow Epicureans ; ought you
not to conceal them from outsiders, and take special pains
to convince them before all things that we are born with
a sociable nature, that self-control is a good thing, that
so you may secure everything for yourself? Or do you
say we must maintain this fellowship towards some and
not towards others? Towards whom, then, must we
observe it? towards those who observe it in their turn, or
towards those who transgress it? And who transgress it
more completely than you who have laid down these
doctrines?
But What, then, was it that roused Epicurus from his
Nature slumbers and compelled him to write what he wrote?
was too
strong for What else but that which is the most powerful of all
Lpicurus, numan things, Nature, which draws a man to her will
and forced
him to though he groan and resist? For (she says), because you
preach his ^old these unsOciable opinions, write them down and
doctrine.
bequeath them to others and stay lip late for them and
by your own act accuse the very principles you maintain.
What ! we speak of Orestes pursued by the Furies and
roused from his slumbers, but are not the Furies and
Torments that beset Epicurus more exacting? They
roused him from his sleep and would not allow him to
rest, but compelled him to announce his miseries, as
madness and wine compel the priests of Cybele. So
powerful and unconquerable a thing is human nature.
Book II, Chapter 20 219
How can a vine be moved to act, not as a vine but as an
olive, or again an olive not as an olive but as a vine? It
is impossible, inconceivable. So it is impossible for man
utterly to destroy the instincts of man ; even those who
have their bodily organs cut off cannot cut off the desires
of men. In the same way Epicurus, though he cut off all Neither he
the attributes of a man and a householder and a citizen r?or j
Academy
and a friend, could not cut off human desires. No, he can de-
could not do it, any more than the indolent Academics stroy
' , _ human
could cast away or blind their senses, though they have instincts.
made this the chief object of their life, f Is not this sheer
misfortune ? f 2 A man has received from Nature measures
and standards for the discovery of truth, and instead of
busying himself to add to them and to work out further
results, he does exactly the opposite, and tries to remove
and destroy any faculty which he possesses for discovering
the truth.
What say you, philosopher ? What is your view of Are philo-
religion and piety J
' If you will, I will prove that it is good.' us, denying
Prove it then, that our fellow citizens may take heed the cl.al.ms
' of religion
and honour the Divine and cease at last from being indif- and yet
ferent as to the highest matters. acting as
if they
' Have you the proofs then ? ' believed
I have, and am thankful for it ! in them ?
' Since you find such an interest in these things, now hear
the contrary : " The gods do not exist, and if they do, they
pay no regard to men and we have no communion with
them, and thus religion and piety, of which the multitude
talk, are a lie of pretentious persons and sophists, or it
22o Discourses of Epictetus
may be of lawgivers, for the fear and deterrence of wrong
doers." '
Bravo, philosopher ! What a service you confer on our
citizens ! our young men are already inclining to despise
divine things, and you recover them for us !
' What is the matter? Does not this please you? Now
learn, how justice is nothing, how self-respect is folly,
how " father " and " son " are empty words.'
Bravo, philosopher ! Stick to your task, persuade our
young men, that we may have more to agree with you
and share your views. These, no doubt, are the argu
ments which have brought well-governed cities to great
ness, these are the arguments which made Lacedaemon,
these are the convictions which Lycurgus wrought into
the Spartans by his laws and training : that slavery is no
more shameful than noble, and freedom no more noble
than shameful ! For these beliefs no doubt those who died
at Thermopylae died ! And for what principles but these
did the Athenians give up their city?
And yet the men who state these theories marry and
beget children and share in city life and appoint themselves
priests and prophets. Of what? Of what has no existence !
And they question the Pythian prophetess themselves, to
learn lies, and they interpret oracles to others. Is not
this the height of shameless imposition?
Such con- Man, what are you doing? You convict yourself of false-
duct is as hooddaybyday: will you not abandon these crude fallacies?
to confuse When you eat where do you put your hand, to your mouth
with°rgan °r t0 y°Ur eye'? When you bathe into what do you go?
another, or When did you ever call the jug a saucer or the ladle a spit?
Book 77, Chapter 20 221
If I were slave to one of these men, I would torture to refuse
him, even if I had to stand a flogging from him every day. \ e evl%
' Put a drop of oil, boy, in the bath.' I would get some the senses
fish sauce and pour it over his head. ' What is that? '
' By your fortune I had an impression, very like oil, indis
tinguishable from it. ' Give me gruel here.' I would
fill a dish with vinegar sauce and bring it him.
' Did I not ask for gruel ? '
Yes, master, this is gruel.
' Is not this vinegar sauce ? '
How is it more that than gruel?
' Take it and smell, take it and taste.'
How can you know if the senses play us false ? If I had
three or four fellow slaves who shared my mind I should
give him such a dressing that he would hang himself, or
change his opinion. Such men trifle with us ; they take
advantage of all the gifts of nature, while in theory they
do away with them.
Grateful and self-respecting men indeed ! they eat These phi-
bread every day, to say nothing else, and yet dare to assert los.°Phers
that we know not whether there is a Demeter or Kore or gifts of
Pluto : not to say that they enjoy day and night and the N.aturebut
changes of the year, the stars and sea and land and the them, and
service that men render, yet not one of these things n?}
J consider
makes them take notice in the least. No, their only aim the effect
is to vomit their paltry problem, and having thus exercised t-\eir
their stomach to go away and have a bath. But they
have not given the slightest thought to what they are
going to say : what subject they are going to speak about,
or to whom, and what they are going to get from these
222
Discourses of Epictetus
arguments : whether any young man of noble spirit may
be influenced by them or has been influenced already
and may lose all the germs of nobility in him : whether
we may be giving an adulterer opportunity to brazen out
his acts : whether one who is embezzling public funds
may find some excuse to lay hold of in these theories :
whether one who neglects his parents may get from them
fresh courage.
They have What, then, do you hold good or evil, base or noble ?
donsancT ^s ** ^s doctrine, or that? It is useless to go on dis-
are beyond puting with one of these men, or reasoning with him, or
trying to alter his opinion. One might have very much
more hope of altering the mind of a profligate than
of men who are absolutely deaf and blind to their own
miseries.
CHAPTER XXI
Concerning inconsistency of mind.
Men are THERE are some admissions which men readily make,
confess°to ot^ers ^ey do not. Now no one will admit that he is
some faults thoughtless or foolish : on the contrary, you will hear
others * ^ eveI7 °ne **y> ' Would that T had luck as ! have wits ! '
but men readily admit that they are cowards and say,
' I am a bit of a coward, I admit, but for the rest you will
find me no fool '. A man will not readily own to incon
tinence, to injustice not at all, never to envy or fussiness,
while most men will own to being pitiful. You ask
what is the reason ? The most vital reason is a confusion
Book //, Chapter 21 223
and want of consistency in men's views of what is good
and evil, but, apart from this, different persons are
affected by different motives ; speaking generally, people
are not ready to own to qualities which to their mind
appear base. Cowardice and a sense of pity they imagine
show good nature, silliness a slavish mind, and social
faults they are least ready to admit. In most of the errors
which they are inclined to confess to it is because they
think there is an involuntary element, as in the cowardly
and the pitiful. So if any one does own to incontinence,
he brings in passion, to give him the excuse of involuntary
action. Injustice is in no circumstances conceived as
involuntary. There is an involuntary element, they
think, in jealousy, and for this reason this too is a fault
which men confess.
Moving, then, as we do among men of this character, Seeing
so bewildered, so ignorant of what they are saying, or of P611 s
., . , . , . ignorance
what evil is theirs, or whether they have any, or what is we ought
the reason of it, or how they are to be relieved, we ought to ^e on
T i • i our guard,
ourselves, I think, to be constantly on our guard, asking
ourselves, ' Am I too perhaps one of them ? What impres
sion have I of myself? How do I bear myself? Do I too
bear myself as a man of prudence and self-control? Do
I too sometimes say that I am educated to meet every
emergency? Am I conscious, as the man who knows
nothing should be, that I know nothing ? Do I come to lest we
my teacher as to the oracles, prepared to obey, or do I too c°me *?
school in
come to school like a driveller, to learn nothing but history the wrong
and to understand the books which I did not understand
before, and if it so chance, to expound them to others ? '
224 Discourses of Epictetus
Man, you have had a boxing match with your slave at
home, and turned your house upside down and disturbed
your neighbours, and now do you come to me with a
solemn air like a wise man and sit and criticize the way
I interpret language, and how I rattle out anything that
comes into my head? Do you come in a spirit of envy,
depressed because nothing is brought you from home,
and while the discussion is going on, sit thinking of
nothing yourself but how you stand with your father or
your brother? ' What are men at home saying about
me? They are thinking now that I am making progress
and say, " He will come back knowing everything ". I did
indeed wish to return one day if I could, having learnt
everything, but it needs hard work, and no one sends
me anything and the baths are shockingly bad in Nicopolis,
and I am badly off in my lodgings and in the lecture-room.'
Men carry Then they say, ' No one gets any good from the lecture-
away from , ,
thelecture- room ! '
room what Why, who comes to the lecture-room? Who comes to
£OI/ ' be cured? Who comes to have his judgements purified?
Who comes that he may grow conscious of his needs ?
Why are you surprised, then, that you carry away from
school the very qualities you bring there, for you do not
come to put away your opinions or to correct them, or to
get others in exchange ? No, far from it ! What you
must look to is whether you get what you come for. You
wish to chatter about principles. Well, do you not come
away with lighter tongues than before? Does not school
afford you material for displaying your precious princi
ples? Do you not analyse variable syllogisms? Do you
Book //, Chapter 21 2 2 f
not pursue the assumptions of ' The Liar ' 1 and hypothe
tical propositions? Why then do you go on being vexed
at getting what you come for ? If you
' Yes, but if my child or my brother die, or if I must want
be racked and die myself, what good will such things to face
do me ? ' trouble,
What ! is this what you came for ? Is this what you ^ot ask for
sit by me for? Did you ever light your lamp or sit up syllogisms,
late for this ? Or, when you have gone out for a walk, have to Sch00i
you ever put a conception before your mind instead of with a
a syllogism and pursued this with your companion ? When Deace
have you ever done so ? Then you say, ' Principles are
useless.' To whom? To those who use them wrongly.
For collyrium is not useless to those who anoint themselves
at the right time and in the right way, plasters are not
useless, leaping-weights are not useless, but only useless to
some, and again useful to others.
If you ask me now, ' Are syllogisms useful ? ' I shall
say they are useful, and if you wish I will prove it.
' What good have they done me then ? '
Man, did you ask whether they were useful in general,
or useful to you ? Suppose a man suffering from dysentery
asked me, ' Is vinegar useful ? ' I shall say it is. ' Is it
useful to me ? ' I shall say. ' No ; seek first to get your
flux stayed, and your ulcerations healed.' It is the same
with you. You must first attend to your ulcers, and
stay your flux, and arrive at peace in your mind and bring
it to school undistracted, and then you will discover how
wonderful the power of reason is.
546.241 p
226 Discourses of Epictetus
The wise
man alone
can love
properly,
for he
knows
what is
good.
Without
wisdom
man is
subject to
confusion
and
change,
CHAPTER XXII
On Friendship.
A MAN naturally loves those things in which he is
interested. Now do men take an interest in things evil?
Certainly not. Do they take interest in what does
not concern them? No, they do not. It follows then
that they are interested in good things alone, and if
interested in them, therefore love them too. Whoever
then has knowledge of good things, would know how to
love them ; but how could one who cannot distinguish
good things from evil and things indifferent from both
have power to love? Therefore the wise man alone has
power to love.
' Nay, how is this ? ' says one. ' I am not wise, yet
I love my child.'
By the gods, I am surprised, to begin with, at your
admission that you are not wise. What do you lack?
Do you not enjoy sensation, do you not distinguish impres
sions, do you not supply your body with the food that is
suited to it, and with shelter and a dwelling? How is it
then that you admit that you are foolish? I suppose
because you are often disturbed and bewildered by your
impressions, and overcome by their persuasive powers,
so that the very things that at one moment you consider
good you presently consider bad and afterwards indifferent ;
and, in a word, you are subject to pain, fear, envy, confusion,
change : that is why you confess yourself to be foolish
Book 77, Chapter 22
And do you not change in your affections ? Do you
believe at one time that wealth and pleasure and mere
outward things are good, and at another time that they
are evil, and do you not regard the same persons now as
good, now as bad, and sometimes feel friendly towards
them, sometimes unfriendly, and now praise, now blame
them ?
' Yes. I am subject to these feelings.'
Well then ; do you think a man can be a friend to
anything about which he is deceived ?
' Not at all.'
Nor can he whose choice of a friend is subject to change
bear good will to him ?
' No, he cannot.'
Can he who first reviles a man and then admires him ? and there-
i -NT i > fore his
No, he cannot. affection
Again, did you never see curs fawning on one another can be
and playing with one another, so that you say nothing t ^
could be friendlier ? But to see what friendship is, throw personal
a piece of meat among them and you will learn. So with
you and your dear boy : throw a bit of land between you,
and you will learn how your boy wishes to give you a
speedy burial, and you pray for the boy to die. Then
you cry out again, ' What a child I have reared ! he is
impatient to bury me '. Throw a pretty maid between
you and suppose you both love her, you the old man, and
he the young man. Or suppose you throw a bit of glory
between you. And if you have to risk your life, you will
use the words of Admetus' father :
Ton love the light; shall not your father love it?
p 2
Interest
will out
weigh all
other
motives.
228 Discourses of Epictetus
Do you think that he did not love his own child when it
was small, and was not distressed when it had the fever,
and did not often say, ' Would it were I who had the fever
instead!'? yet when the event came close upon him, see
what words they utter ! Were not Eteocles and Polynices
born of the same mother and the same father? Were
they not reared together, did they not live together, drink
together, sleep together, often kiss one another, so that if
one had seen them he would, no doubt, have laughed at
the paradoxes of philosophers on friendship. Yet when
the bit of meat, in the shape of a king's throne, fell
between them, see what they say :
E. Where wilt stand upon the tower ?
P. Wherefore dost thou ask me this ?
E. / will face thee then and slay thee.
P. I desire thy blood no less.
Yes, such are the prayers they utter !
For be not deceived, every creature, to speak generally,
is attached to nothing so much as to its own interest.
Whatever then seems to hinder his way to this, be it
a brother or a father or a child, the object of his passion
or his own lover, he hates him, guards against him, curses
him. For his nature is to love nothing so much as his
own interest ; this is his father and brother and kinsfolk
and country and god. At any rate, when the gods seem
to hinder us in regard to this we revile even the gods
and overthrow their statues and set fire to their temples,
as Alexander ordered the shrines of Asclepius to be burnt
when the object of his passion died. Therefore if interest,
Book //, Chapter 22 229
religion and honour, country, parents and friends are set
in the same scale, then all are safe ; but if interest is in
one scale, and in the other friends and country and kindred
and justice itself, all these are weighed down by interest
and disappear. For the creature must needs incline to
that side where ' I ' and ' mine ' are ; if they are in the
flesh, the ruling power must be there ; if in the will, it
must be there ; if in external things, it must be there.
If then I identify myself with my will, then and only Love can
then shall I be a friend and son and father in the true i -^ a
sense. For this will be my interest — to guard my man finds
character for good faith, honour, forbearance, self-control, ^ yg wju
and service of others, to maintain my relations with
others.1 But if I separate myself from what is noble,
then Epicurus' statement is confirmed, which declares
that ' there is no such thing as the noble or at best it is
but the creature of opinion '.
It was this ignorance that made the Athenians and The wars
Lacedaemonians quarrel with one another, and the r ~-
Thebans with both, and the Great King with Hellas, men find-
and the Macedonians with Hellas and the King, and I^QJ^JQ
now the Romans with the Getae ; and yet earlier outward
this was the reason of the wars with Ilion. Paris
was the guest of Menelaus, and any one who had seen
the courtesies they used to one another would not
have believed one who denied that they were friends.
But a morsel was thrown between them, in the shape
of a pretty woman, and for that there was war ! So
now, when you see friends or brothers who seem to
be of one mind, do not therefore pronounce upon their
230 Discourses of Epictetus
friendship, though they swear to it and say it is impossible
for them to part with one another. The Governing Prin
ciple of the bad man is not to be trusted ; it is uncertain,
irresolute, conquered now by one impression, now by an
other. The question you must ask is, not what others ask,
whether they were born of the same parents and brought
up together and under the charge of the same slave ; but
this question only, where they put their interest — outside
them or in the will. If they put it outside, do not call
them friends, any more than you can call them faithful, or
stable, or confident, or free ; nay, do not call them even
men, if you are wise. For it is no human judgement which
makes them bite one another and revile one another and
occupy deserts or market-places like wild beasts 2 and be
have like robbers in the law-courts ; and which makes them
guilty of profligacy and adultery and seduction and the
other offences men commit against one another. There
is one judgement and one only which is responsible for
all this — that they set themselves and all their interests
When men elsewhere than in their will. But if you hear that these
find their men jn y truth believe the good to lie only in the
good in J
the region region of the will and in dealing rightly with impressions,
of the will yOU nee(j trouble yourself no more as to whether a man
friendship, is son or father, whether they are brothers, or have been
familiar companions for years ; I say, if you grasp this one
fact and no more, you may pronounce with confidence
that they are friends, as you may that they are faithful
and just. For where else is friendship but where faith
and honour are, where men give and take what is good,
and nothing else ?
Book //, Chapter 22 231
' But he has paid me attention all this time : did he not
love me ? '
How do you know, slave, whether he has paid you this
attention, as a man cleans his boots, or tends his beast?
How do you know whether, when you have lost your use
as a paltry vessel, he will not throw you away like a broken
plate ?
1 But she is my wife and we have lived together this
long time.'
How long did Eriphyle live with Amphiaraus, aye, and
was mother of many children ? — But a necklace came
between them.
' What do you mean by a necklace ? '
Man's judgement about good and evil. This was the
brutish element, this was what broke up the friendship,
which suffered not the wife to be true to her wedlock,
nor the mother to be a mother indeed. So let every
one of you, who is anxious himself to be friend to an- Without
other or to win another for his friend, uproot these lt: ,
. ' . r cannot be.
judgements, hate them, drive them out of his mind. If
he does that, then first he will never revile himself or be
in conflict with himself, he will be free from change of
mind, and self-torture ; secondly he will be friendly to
his neighbour, always and absolutely, if he be like himself,
and if he be unlike, he will bear with him, be gentle and
tender with him, considerate to him as to one who is
ignorant and in error about the highest matters ; not
hard upon any man, for he knows of a certainty Plato's
saying, 'No soul is robbed of the truth save involuntarily'.
But if you fail to do this, you may do everything else
232 Discourses of Epictetus
that friends do — drink together and live under the same
roof and sail in the same ship and be born of the same
parents ; well, the same may be true of snakes, but
neither they nor you will be capable of friendship so long
as you retain these brutish and revolting judgements.
CHAPTER XXIII
On the faculty of expression.
The EVERY one can read a book with the more pleasure and
faculty of vi-
expression ease tne plainer the letters in which it is written. So too
has its every one can listen more easily to discourse which is ex-
value, like , . . . I,..
other pressed in becoming and distinguished language. We must
faculties, therefore not say that the faculty of expression is nothing.
To say so is at once irreligious and cowardly ; irreligious
because it means disparaging God's gifts, just as though
one should deny the usefulness of the faculty of vision or
hearing or even the faculty of speech. Was it for nothing
then that God gave you your eyes ? Was it for nothing He
mingled with them a spirit1 so powerful and cunningly de
vised, that even from a distance they can fashion the shapes
of what they see? And what messenger is so swift and
attentive as they? Was it for nothing that He made the
intervening air so active and sensitive that vision passes
through it as through a tense medium ? Was it for nothing
that He made light, without the presence of which all the
rest would have been useless?
£ not ungratcful, nor again forget higher things !
ill C
Book //, Chapter 23 233
Give thanks to God for sight and hearing, yes, and for ordinate
life itself and what is conducive to life — for grain and fruit. to *"e
0 ' supreme
for wine and oil ; but remember that He has given you faculty
another gift superior to all these, the faculty which shall
use them, test them, and calculate the value of each.
For what is it that pronounces on each of these faculties,
and decides their value? Is it the faculty itself, in each
case ? Did you ever hear the faculty of vision saying any
thing about itself ? or the faculty of hearing ? 2 No, these
faculties are ordained as ministers and slaves to serve the
faculty which deals with impressions. And if you ask what
each is worth, whom do you ask? Who answers you ? How
then can any other faculty be superior to this, which uses
the rest as its servants and itself tests each result and
pronounces on it? Which of those faculties knows what
it is and what it is worth, which of them knows when it
ought to be used and when it ought not? What is the
faculty that opens and closes the eyes and brings them
near some objects and turns them away, at need, from
others ? Is it the faculty of vision ? No, it is the faculty of Which de-
will. What is it that closes and opens the ears ? What is terpines
r _ their value
it that makes us curious and questioning, or again unmoved
by discourse? Is it the faculty of hearing? It is no other
faculty but that of the will.
I say, when the will sees that all the other faculties
which surround it are blind and deaf and are unable to
see anything else beyond the very objects for which they
are ordained to minister to this faculty and serve it, and
this alone has clear sight and surveys the rest and itself
and estimates their value, is it likely to pronounce that
234 Discourses of Epictetus
any other faculty but itself is the highest? What is the
function of the eye, when opened, but to see ? But what
is it tells us whether we ought to look at a man's wife or
how? The faculty of will. What tells us whether we
ought to believe or disbelieve what we are told, and if
we believe whether we are to be excited or not ? Is it not
the faculty of will ? This faculty of eloquence I spoke
of, if such special faculty there be, concerned with the
framing of fair phrases, does no more than construct and
adorn phrases, when there is an occasion for discourse, just
as hairdressers arrange and adorn the hair. But whether
it is better to speak or be silent, and to speak in this way
or that, and whether it is proper or improper — in a word,
to decide the occasion and the use for each discourse, all
these are questions for one faculty only, that of the will.
Would you have it come forward and pronounce against
itself ?
' But ', says the objector, ' what if. the matter stands
thus, what if that which ministers can be superior to
that which it serves, the horse to the horseman, the
hound to the hunter, the lyre to him that plays it, the
The will servants to the king they serve ? ' The answer is : What
dependent is it: that USCS Other thin&S ? The wil1' What is h that
and un- attends to everything ? The will. What is it that destroys
hindered. tjle whoie marij now by starvation, now by a halter, now
by a headlong fall? The will. Is there then anything
stronger in men than this ? Nay, how can things that
are subject to hindrance be stronger than that which is
unhindered ? What has power to hinder the faculty of
vision? Will and events beyond the will. The faculty
Book //, Chapter 23 235-
of hearing and that of speech are subject to the same
hindrance. But what can hinder the will ? Nothing
beyond the will, only the perversion of the will itself.
Therefore vice or virtue resides in this alone. Yet being
so mighty a faculty, ordained to rule all the rest, you
would have it come forward and tell us that the flesh
is of all things most excellent. Why, if the flesh itself
asserted that it was the most excellent of things, one
would not tolerate it even then. But as it is, Epicurus,
what is the faculty that pronounces this judgement ? Is it
the faculty which has written on 'The End' or 'Physics'
or 'The Standard '? The faculty which made you grow
your beard as a philosopher ? which wrote in the hour
of death ' I am living my last day and that a blessed
one ' ? 3 Is this faculty flesh or will ? Surely it is madness
to admit that you have a faculty superior to this. Can
you be in truth so blind and deaf?
What follows ? Do we disparage the other faculties ? Do not de-
God forbid. Do we say that there is no use nor advance- splse °tner
ment save in the faculty of will ? God forbid ! that were but give
foolish, irreligious, ungrateful toward God. We are only £ie-nj
giving each thing its due. For there is use in an ass,
but not so much as in an ox • there is use in a dog, but
not so much as in a servant ; there is use in a servant,
but not so much as in a fellow-citizen ; there is use in
them too, but not so much as in those who govern them.
Yet because other faculties are higher we must not ,
. . Eloquence
depreciate the use which inferior faculties yield. The has its
faculty of eloquence has its value, but it is not so great
' \ is not the
as that of the will ; but when 1 say this, let no one suppose highest.
Yet to
deny its
value is
ungrate
ful and
cowardly.
Cultivate
other
faculties,
256 Discourses of Epictetus
that I bid you neglect your manner of speech, any more
than I would have you neglect eyes or ears or hands or
feet or clothes or shoes.
But if you ask me, ' What then is the highest of all
things,' what am I to say ? The faculty of speech ?
I cannot say that. No, the faculty of will, when it is in
the right way. For it is this which controls the faculty
of speech and all other faculties small and great. When
this is set in the right course, a man becomes good ; when
it fails, man becomes bad ; it is this which makes our
fortune bad or good, this which makes us critical of one
another or well content ; in a word, to ignore this means
misery, to attend to it means happiness.
Yet to do away with the faculty of eloquence and deny
its existence is indeed not only ungrateful to those who
have given it, but shows a coward's spirit. For he who
denies it seems to me to fear that, if there is a faculty of
eloquence, we may not be able to despise it. It is just
the same with those who deny that there is any difference
between beauty and ugliness. What ! are we to believe
that the sight of Thersites could move men as much as the
sight of Achilles, and the sight of Helen no more than the
sight of an ordinary woman ? No, these are the words of
foolish and uneducated persons, who do not know one
thing from another, and who fear that if once one becomes
aware of such differences, one may be overwhelmed and
defeated.
No, the great thing is this — to leave each in possession
of his own faculty, and so leaving him to see the value
of the faculty, and to understand what is the highest of
Book //, Chapter 23 237
all things and to pursue this always, and concentrate but con-
your interest on this, counting all other things subordinate c ^r.at^on
to this, yet not failing to attend to them too so far as
you may. For even to the eyes you must attend, yet not
as though they were the highest, but to these also for
the sake of the highest ; for the highest will not fulfil its
proper nature unless it uses the eyes with reason, and
chooses one thing rather than another.
What then do we see men doing? They are like a man To culti-
returning to his own country who finding a good inn on
his road, stays on there because it pleases him. Man, unduly is
you are forgetting your purpose ! You were not travelling ?
to this, but through it. inn instead
' Yes, but this is a fine inn.'
And how many other fine inns are there, and how road,
many fine meadows ? But they are merely to pass through ;
your purpose is yonder ; to return to your country, to
relieve your kinsfolk of their fears, to fulfil your own
duties as a citizen, to marry, beget children, and hold
office in due course. For you have not come into the
world to choose your pick of fine places, but to live and
move in the place where you were born and appointed
to be a citizen. The same principle holds good in what
we are discussing. Our road to perfection must needs
lie through instruction and the spoken word ; and one
must purify the will and bring into right order the faculty
which deals with impressions ; and principles must be
communicated in a particular style, with some variety
and epigram. But this being so, some people are attracted
by the very means they are using and stay where they are,
238 Discourses of Epictetus
one caught by style, another by syllogisms, a third by
variable arguments, and a fourth by some other seductive
inn by the way ; and there they stay on and moulder
away, like those whom the Sirens entertain.
Man, the purpose set before you was to make yourself
capable of dealing with the impressions that you meet as
nature orders, so as not to fail in what you will to get,
nor to fall into what you will to avoid, never suffering mis
fortune or bad fortune, free, unhindered, unconstrained,
conforming to the governance of God, obeying this, well
pleased with this, criticizing none, blaming none, able
to say these lines with your whole heart,
Lead, me, O Zeus, and tbou my Destiny.
It is to Having this purpose before you, are you going to stay
*Jj£ where you are just because a pretty phrase or certain
pose of life, precepts please you, and choose to make your home there,
forgetting what you have left at home, and say, ' These
things are fine ' ? Who says they are not fine ? But they
are fine as things to pass through, as inns by the way.
What prevents you from being unfortunate, though you
speak like Demosthenes ? Though you can analyse syllogisms
like Chrysippus, what prevents you from being wretched,
mournful, envious — in a word, bewildered and miserable ?
Nothing prevents you. Do you see then that these were
inns of no value ; and the goal set before you was different ?
Certain persons when I say this think I am disparaging
the study of rhetoric or of principles. No, I am not
depreciating that, but only the tendency to dwell un
ceasingly on such matters and to set your hopes on them.
Book 77, Chapter 23 239
If any man does his hearers harm by bringing this truth
home to them, count me among those who do this harm.
But when I see that what is highest and most sovereign is
something different, I cannot say that it is what it is not
in order to gratify you.
CHAPTER XXIV
To one whom he did not think worthy,
SOME one said to him, ' I often came to you, desiring to To listen
hear you and you never gave me an answer, and now, if it Pr°Per 'V
may be, I beg you to say something to me '. as much
Do you think, he replied, that there is an art of speaking, ^ as,
like other arts, and that he who has it will speak with properly,
skill and he who has it not, without skill ?
' I think so.'
Is it true then that he who by his speech gains benefit
himself and is able to benefit others would speak with skill,
and he who tends to be harmed himself and harm others
would be unskilled in the art of speaking?
' Yes, you would find that some are harmed, some
benefited.'
But what of the hearers? Are they all benefited by
what they hear, or would you find that of them too some
are benefited and some harmed?
' Yes, that is true of them too ', he said.
Here too then it is true that those who hear with skill
are benefited, and those who hear without skill are harmed ?
He agreed.
240 Discourses of Epictetus
Is there then a skill in hearing as well as in speaking?
' So it appears.'
If you will, look at the question thus. Whose part do
you think it is to touch an instrument musically?
' The musician's.'
And whose part do you think it is to make a statue
properly?
' The sculptor's.'
Does it not seem to you to require any art to look at
a statue with skill?
' Yes, this requires art too.'
If then right speaking demands a skilled person, do
you see that hearing with profit also demands a skilled
person? As for perfection and profit in the full sense,
that, if you like, we may for the moment dismiss, as we
are both far from anything of that sort ; but this I think
every one would admit, that he who is to listen to philo
sophers must have at least some practice in listening. Is
it not so?
Therefore Show me then what it is you would have me speak to
aski to you about. What are you able to hear about ? About
be taught things good and bad ? Good what ? A good horse ?
unless you < XT ,
are able
to listen. A good ox ?
'No.'
What then ? A good man ?
' Yes.'
Do we know then what man is, what his nature is, what
the notion is ? Are our ears open in any degree with
regard to this ? Nay, do you understand what Nature is,
Book //, Chapter 24 241
or can you in any measure follow me when I speak? Am
I to demonstrate to you? How am I to do it? Do you
really understand what demonstration is, or how a thing
is demonstrated, or by what means, or what processes arc
like demonstration without being demonstrations? Do
you know what is true or what is false, what follows what,
what is in conflict, or disagreement or discord with what ?
Can I rouse you to philosophy? How can I show you the
conflict of the multitude, their disputes as to things
good and evil, useful and harmful, when you do not so
much as know what conflict is ? Show me then what good
I shall do you by conversing with you.
' Rouse my interest.' It is im-
As the sheep when he sees the grass that suits him Posslt>le to
i i • ! • i in awaken
has his desire roused to eat, but it you set a stone or loal by interest
him he will not be roused, so there are in us certain without a
..... , ,. . responsive
natural inclinations toward discourse, when the appro- listener.
priate hearer appears and provokes the inclination ; but
if he lies there like a stone or a piece of grass, how can he
rouse a man's will? Does the vine say to the farmer,
' Attend to me ' ? No, its very appearance shows that
it will be to his profit to attend to it and so calls out his
energies. Who does not answer the call of winning and
saucy children to play with them and crawl with them
and talk nonsense with them, but who wants to play or
bray with an ass? However small he may be, he is still
an as?.
' Why then do you say nothing to me ? ' Some
There is only one thing I can say to you, that he who ^P0^ ge
is ignorant who he is and for what he is born and what the and of the
546-24 1 0
242 Discourses of Epictetus
world is world is that he is in and who are his fellows, and what
necessary faines are good and evil, noble and base ; who cannot
if you are
to follow understand reasoning or demonstration, or what is true
nature. Qr wjiat fajse^ ancj js unable to distinguish them, such a
man will not follow nature in his will to get or to avoid,
in his impulses or designs, in assent, refusal, or withholding
of assent ; to sum up, he will go about the world deaf and
blind, thinking himself somebody, when he is really
nobody. Do you think there is anything new in this?
Ever since the race of men began, have not all errors and
misfortunes arisen from this ignorance?
All errors Why did Agamemnon and Achilles quarrel with one
ha.ve another? Was it not because they did not know what was
arisen '
from want expedient or inexpedient? Did not one say that it was
ofthls- expedient to give back Chryseis to her father, and the
other that it was not? Did not one say that he ought to
take the other's prize, and the other that he ought not ?
Did not this too make them forget who they were and for
what they had come ?
Let be, man, what have you come for? To win women
for your love or to make war ?
' To make war.'
With whom? Trojans or Greeks?
'Trojans.'
Why then do you leave Hector and draw your sword
on your own king ? And you, best of men, have you left
your duties as a king,
trusted with dans and all their mighty cares,
to fight a duel for a paltry damsel with the most warlike
Book //, Chapter 24 243
of your allies, whom you ought by all means to respect
and guard ? Do you show yourself inferior to the courteous
high priest who pays all attention to you noble gladiators ?
Do you see what ignorance as to things expedient
leads to ?
' But I too am rich.' You are no
Are you any richer than Agamemnon ? TT .
' But I am handsome as well.' heroes.
Are you any handsomer than Achilles ?
' But I have a fine head of hair.'
Had not Achilles a finer, and golden hair too, and he
did not comb and smooth it to look fine ?
' But I am strong.'
Can you lift a stone as big as Hector or Ajax could?
' But I am noble too.'
Was your mother a goddess, or your father of the seed of
Zeus? What good do these things do Achilles, when he
sits weeping for his darling mistress?
'But I am an orator.'
And was not he? Do not you see how he handled
Odysseus and Phoenix, the most eloquent of the Hellenes,
how he shut their mouths ?
This is all I can say to you, and even this I have no
heart for.
' Why ? '
Because you do not excite my interest. Is there any- If you
thing in vou to excite me as men who keep horses are want to
0 J hear, you
excited at sight of a well-bred horse? Your poor body? must show
You make an ugly figure. Your clothes? They are too your,
luxurious. Your air, your countenance? There is nothing
244 Discourses of Epictetus
to see.' When you wish to hear a philosopher, do not say
to him, ' You say nothing to me,' but only show yourself
worthy to hear and you will see how you will rouse him to
discourse !
CHAPTER XXV
How the art of reasoning is necessary.
WHEN one of his audience said, ' Convince me that logic
is useful,' he said.
Would you have me demonstrate it?
' Yes.'
Well, then, must I not use a demonstrative argument?
And, when the other agreed, he said, How then shall
you know if I impose upon you ? And when the man
had no answer, he said, You see how you yourself admit
that logic is necessary, if without it you are not even able
to learn this much — whether it is necessary or not.
CHAPTER XXVI
What is the distinctive character of error.
Error EVERY error implies conflict ; for since he who errs does
conflict™"1 not w*sn to §° wrong but to go right, plainly he is not
doing what he wishes. For what does the thief wish to
do? What is to his interest. If then thieving is against
his interest, he is not doing what he wishes. But every
rational soul by nature dislikes conflict ; and so, as long
as a man does not understand that he is in conflict, there
Rook 11, Chapter 26 245-
is nothing to prevent him from doing conflicting acts, but,
whenever he understands, strong necessity makes him
abandon the conflict and avoid it, just as bitter necessity
makes a man renounce a falsehood when he discovers it,
though as long as he has not this impression he assents
to it as true.
He then who can show to each man the conflict which You can
causes his error, and can clearly bring home to him how °"rorSb°P
he fails to do what he wishes and does what he does not exposing
wish, is powerful in argument and strong to encourage
and convict. For if one shows this, a man will retire from
his error of himself ; but as long as you do not succeed
in showing this, you need not wonder if he persists in
his error, for he acts because he has an impression that
he is right. That is why Socrates too, relying on this
faculty, said, ' I am not wont to produce any other witness
to support what I say, but am content with him to whom
I am talking on each occasion ; it is his vote that I take,
his evidence that I call, and his sole word suffices instead
of all.' For Socrates knew what moves the rational soul,
and that it will incline to what moves it, whether it wishes
to or not.1 Show the conflict to the rational Governing
Principle and it will desist. If you do not show it, blame
yourself rather than him who refuses to obey.
4184
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