No More Learning

Yet what faculties and powers you possess for attaining courage and
greatness of heart, I can easily show you; what you have for upbraiding
and accusation, it is for you to show me!




XXI

How did Socrates bear himself in this regard? How else than as became
one who was fully assured that he was the kinsman of Gods?




XXII

If God had made that part of His own nature which He severed from
Himself and gave to us, liable to be hindered or constrained either by
Himself or any other, He would not have been God, nor would He have been
taking care of us as He ought . . . . If you choose, you are free; if
you choose, you need blame no man--accuse no man. All things will be at
once according to your mind and according to the Mind of God.




XXIII

Petrifaction is of two sorts. There is petrifaction of the
understanding; and also of the sense of shame. This happens when a
man obstinately refuses to acknowledge plain truths, and persists in
maintaining what is self-contradictory. Most of us dread mortification
of the body, and would spare no pains to escape anything of that kind.
But of mortification of the soul we are utterly heedless. With regard,
indeed, to the soul, if a man is in such a state as to be incapable of
following or understanding anything, I grant you we do think him in a
bad way. But mortification of the sense of shame and modesty we go so
far as to dub strength of mind!




XXIV

If we were as intent upon our business as the old fellows at Rome are
upon what interests them, we too might perhaps accomplish something.
I know a man older than I am, now Superintendent of the Corn-market at
Rome, and I remember when he passed through this place on his way back
from exile, what an account he gave me of his former life, declaring
that for the future, once home again, his only care should be to pass
his remaining years in quiet and tranquility. "For how few years have
I left! " he cried. "That," I said, "you will not do; but the moment the
scent of Rome is in your nostrils, you will forget it all; and if you
can but gain admission to Court, you will be glad enough to elbow your
way in, and thank God for it. " "Epictetus," he replied, "if ever you
find me setting as much as one foot within the Court, think what you
will of me. "

Well, as it was, what did he do? Ere ever he entered the city, he was
met by a despatch from the Emperor. He took it, and forgot the whole
of his resolutions. From that moment, he has been piling one thing upon
another. I should like to be beside him to remind him of what he said
when passing this way, and to add, How much better a prophet I am than
you!

What then? do I say man is not made for an active life? Far from it!
. . . But there is a great difference between other men's occupations and
ours. . . . A glance at theirs will make it clear to you. All day long
they do nothing but calculate, contrive, consult how to wring their
profit out of food-stuffs, farm-plots and the like. . . . Whereas, I
entreat you to learn what the administration of the World is, and what
place a Being endowed with reason holds therein: to consider what you
are yourself, and wherein your Good and Evil consists.




XXV

A man asked me to write to Rome on his behalf who, as most people
thought, had met with misfortune; for having been before wealthy and
distinguished, he had afterwards lost all and was living here. So I
wrote about him in a humble style. He however on reading the letter
returned it to me, with the words: "I asked for your help, not for your
pity. No evil has happened unto me. "




XXVI

True instruction is this:--to learn to wish that each thing should come
to pass as it does. And how does it come to pass? As the Disposer has
disposed it. Now He has disposed that there should be summer and winter,
and plenty and dearth, and vice and virtue, and all such opposites, for
the harmony of the whole.




XXVII

Have this thought ever present with thee, when thou losest any outward
thing, what thou gainest in its stead; and if this be the more precious,
say not, I have suffered loss.




XXVIII

Concerning the Gods, there are who deny the very existence of the
Godhead; others say that it exists, but neither bestirs nor concerns
itself nor has forethought for anything. A third party attribute to it
existence and forethought, but only for great and heavenly matters, not
for anything that is on earth. A fourth party admit things on earth as
well as in heaven, but only in general, and not with respect to each
individual. A fifth, of whom were Ulysses and Socrates are those that
cry:--

I move not without Thy knowledge!




XXIX

Considering all these things, the good and true man submits his
judgement to Him that administers the Universe, even as good citizens to
the law of the State. And he that is being instructed should come thus
minded:--How may I in all things follow the Gods; and, How may I rest
satisfied with the Divine Administration; and, How may I become free?
For he is free for whom all things come to pass according to his will,
and whom none can hinder. What then, is freedom madness? God forbid. For
madness and freedom exist not together.

"But I wish all that I desire to come to pass and in the manner that I
desire. "

--You are mad, you are beside yourself. Know you not that Freedom is a
glorious thing and of great worth? But that what I desired at random I
should wish at random to come to pass, so far from being noble, may well
be exceeding base.




XXX

You must know that it is no easy thing for a principle to become a man's
own, unless each day he maintain it and hear it maintained, as well as
work it out in life.




XXXI

You are impatient and hard to please. If alone, you call it solitude: if
in the company of men, you dub them conspirators and thieves, and find
fault with your very parents, children, brothers, and neighbours.
Whereas when by yourself you should have called it Tranquillity and
Freedom: and herein deemed yourself like unto the Gods. And when in the
company of many, you should not have called it a wearisome crowd and
tumult, but an assembly and a tribunal; and thus accepted all with
contentment.



XXXII

What then is the chastisement of those who accept it not? To be as they
are. Is any discontented with being alone? let him be in solitude. Is
any discontented with his parents? let him be a bad son, and lament. Is
any discontented with his children? let him be a bad father. --"Throw
him into prison! "--What prison? --Where he is already: for he is there
against his will; and wherever a man is against his will, that to him is
a prison. Thus Socrates was not in prison, since he was there with his
own consent.




XXXIII

Knowest thou what a speck thou art in comparison with the
Universe? ---That is, with respect to the body; since with respect to
Reason, thou art not inferior to the Gods, nor less than they. For the
greatness of Reason is not measured by length or height, but by the
resolves of the mind. Place then thy happiness in that wherein thou art
equal to the Gods.




XXXIV

Asked how a man might eat acceptably to the Gods, Epictetus replied:--If
when he eats, he can be just, cheerful, equable, temperate, and orderly,
can he not thus eat acceptably to the Gods? But when you call for warm
water, and your slave does not answer, or when he answers brings it
lukewarm, or is not even found to be in the house at all, then not to be
vexed nor burst with anger, is not that acceptable to the Gods?

"But how can one endure such people? "

Slave, will you not endure your own brother, that has God to his
forefather, even as a son sprung from the same stock, and of the same
high descent as yourself? And if you are stationed in a high position,
are you therefor forthwith set up for a tyrant? Remember who you are,
and whom you rule, that they are by nature your kinsmen, your brothers,
the offspring of God.

"But I paid a price for them, not they for me. "

Do you see whither you are looking--down to the earth, to the pit, to
those despicable laws of the dead? But to the laws of the Gods you do
not look.




XXXV

When we are invited to a banquet, we take what is set before us; and
were one to call upon his host to set fish upon the table or sweet
things, he would be deemed absurd. Yet in a word, we ask the Gods for
what they do not give; and that, although they have given us so many
things!




XXXVI

Asked how a man might convince himself that every single act of his was
under the eye of God, Epictetus answered:--

"Do you not hold that things on earth and things in heaven are
continuous and in unison with each other? "

"I do," was the reply.

"Else how should the trees so regularly, as though by God's command,
at His bidding flower; at His bidding send forth shoots, bear fruit and
ripen it; at His bidding let it fall and shed their leaves, and folded
up upon themselves lie in quietness and rest? How else, as the Moon
waxes and wanes, as the Sun approaches and recedes, can it be that such
vicissitude and alternation is seen in earthly things?

"If then all things that grow, nay, our own bodies, are thus bound up
with the whole, is not this still truer of our souls? And if our souls
are bound up and in contact with God, as being very parts and fragments
plucked from Himself, shall He not feel every movement of theirs as
though it were His own, and belonging to His own nature? "




XXXVII

"But," you say, "I cannot comprehend all this at once. "

"Why, who told you that your powers were equal to God's? "

Yet God hath placed by the side of each a man's own Guardian Spirit, who
is charged to watch over him--a Guardian who sleeps not nor is deceived.
For to what better or more watchful Guardian could He have committed
which of us? So when you have shut the doors and made a darkness within,
remember never to say that you are alone; for you are not alone, but
God is within, and your Guardian Spirit, and what light do they need to
behold what you do? To this God you also should have sworn allegiance,
even as soldiers unto Caesar. They, when their service is hired, swear
to hold the life of Caesar dearer than all else: and will you not swear
your oath, that are deemed worthy of so many and great gifts? And will
you not keep your oath when you have sworn it? And what oath will you
swear? Never to disobey, never to arraign or murmur at aught that comes
to you from His hand: never unwillingly to do or suffer aught that
necessity lays upon you.

"Is this oath like theirs? "

They swear to hold no other dearer than Caesar: you, to hold our true
selves dearer than all else beside.




XXXVIII

"How shall my brother cease to be wroth with me? "

Bring him to me, and I will tell him. But to thee I have nothing to say
about his anger.




XXXIX

When one took counsel of Epictetus, saying, "What I seek is this, how
even though my brother be not reconciled to me, I may still remain as
Nature would have me to be," he replied: "All great things are slow of
growth; nay, this is true even of a grape or of a fig. If then you say
to me now, I desire a fig, I shall answer, It needs time: wait till it
first flower, then cast its blossom, then ripen. Whereas then the fruit
of the fig-tree reaches not maturity suddenly nor yet in a single hour,
do you nevertheless desire so quickly, and easily to reap the fruit of
the mind of man? --Nay, expect it not, even though I bade you! "




XL

Epaphroditus had a shoemaker whom he sold as being good-for-nothing.
This fellow, by some accident, was afterwards purchased by one of
Caesar's men, and became a shoemaker to Caesar. You should have seen
what respect Epaphroditus paid him then. "How does the good Felicion?
Kindly let me know! " And if any of us inquired, "What is Epaphroditus
doing? " the answer was, "He is consulting about so and so with
Felicion. "--Had he not sold him as good-for-nothing? Who had in a trice
converted him into a wiseacre?

This is what comes of holding of importance anything but the things that
depend on the Will.




XLI

What you shun enduring yourself, attempt not to impose on others. You
shun slavery--beware of enslaving others! If you can endure to do that,
one would think you had been once upon a time a slave yourself. For Vice
has nothing in common with virtue, nor Freedom with slavery.




XLII

Has a man been raised to tribuneship? Every one that he meets
congratulates him. One kisses him on the eyes, another on the neck,
while the slaves kiss his hands. He goes home to find torches burning;
he ascends to the Capitol to sacrifice. --Who ever sacrificed for having
had right desires; for having conceived such inclinations as Nature
would have him? In truth we thank the Gods for that wherein we place our
happiness.




XLIII

A man was talking to me to-day about the priesthood of Augustus. I said
to him, "Let the thing go, my good Sir; you will spend a good deal to no
purpose. "

"Well, but my name will be inserted in all documents and contracts. "

"Will you be standing there to tell those that read them, That is my
name written there? And even if you could now be there in every case,
what will you do when you are dead? "

"At all events my name will remain. "

"Inscribe it on a stone and it will remain just as well. And think,
beyond Nicopolis what memory of you will there be? "

"But I shall have a golden wreath to wear. "

"If you must have a wreath, get a wreath of roses and put it on; you
will look more elegant! "




XLIV

Above all, remember that the door stands open. Be not more fearful than
children; but as they, when they weary of the game, cry, "I will play
no more," even so, when thou art in the like case, cry, "I will play no
more" and depart. But if thou stayest, make no lamentation.




XLV

Is there smoke in the room? If it be slight, I remain; if grievous,
I quit it. For you must remember this and hold it fast, that the door
stands open.

"You shall not dwell at Nicopolis! "

Well and good.

"Nor at Athens. "

Then I will not dwell at Athens either.

"Nor at Rome. "

Nor at Rome either.

"You shall dwell in Gyara! "

Well: but to dwell in Gyara seems to me like a grievous smoke; I depart
to a place where none can forbid me to dwell: that habitation is open
unto all! As for the last garment of all, that is the poor body; beyond
that, none can do aught unto me. This why Demetrius said to Nero: "You
threaten me with death; it is Nature who threatens you! "




XLVI

The beginning of philosophy is to know the condition of one's own mind.
If a man recognises that this is in a weakly state, he will not then
want to apply it to questions of the greatest moment. As it is, men who
are not fit to swallow even a morsel, buy whole treatises and try to
devour them. Accordingly they either vomit them up again, or suffer from
indigestion, whence come gripings, fluxions, and fevers. Whereas they
should have stopped to consider their capacity.




XLVII

In theory it is easy to convince an ignorant person: in actual life, men
not only object to offer themselves to be convinced, but hate the man
who has convinced them. Whereas Socrates used to say that we should
never lead a life not subjected to examination.




XLVIII

This is the reason why Socrates, when reminded that he should prepare
for his trial, answered: "Thinkest thou not that I have been preparing
for it all my life? "

"In what way? "

"I have maintained that which in me lay! "

"How so? "

"I have never, secretly or openly, done a wrong unto any. "




XLIX

In what character dost thou now come forward?

As a witness summoned by God. "Come thou," saith God, "and testify for
me, for thou art worthy of being brought forward as a witness by Me. Is
aught that is outside thy will either good or bad? Do I hurt any man?
Have I placed the good of each in the power of any other than himself?
What witness dost thou bear to God? "

"I am in evil state, Master, I am undone! None careth for me, none
giveth me aught: all men blame, all speak evil of me. "

Is this the witness thou wilt bear, and do dishonour to the calling
wherewith He hath called thee, because He hath done thee so great
honour, and deemed thee worthy of being summoned to bear witness in so
great a cause?




L

Wouldst thou have men speak good of thee? speak good of them. And when
thou hast learned to speak good of them, try to do good unto them, and
thus thou wilt reap in return their speaking good of thee.




LI

When thou goest in to any of the great, remember that Another from above
sees what is passing, and that thou shouldst please Him rather than man.
He therefore asks thee:--

"In the Schools, what didst thou call exile, imprisonment, bonds, death
and shame? "

"I called them things indifferent. "

"What then dost thou call them now? Are they at all changed? "

"No.
"

"Is it then thou that art changed? "

"No. "

"Say then, what are things indifferent? "

"Things that are not in our power. "

"Say then, what follows? "

"That things which are not in our power are nothing to me. "

"Say also what things you hold to be good. "

"A will such as it ought to be, and a right use of the things of sense. "

"And what is the end? "

"To follow Thee! "




LII

"That Socrates should ever have been so treated by the Athenians! "

Slave! why say "Socrates"? Speak of the thing as it is: That ever then
the poor body of Socrates should have been dragged away and haled by
main force to prison! That ever hemlock should have been given to the
body of Socrates; that that should have breathed its life away! --Do you
marvel at this? Do you hold this unjust? Is it for this that you accuse
God? Had Socrates no compensation for this? Where then for him was the
ideal Good? Whom shall we hearken to, you or him? And what says he?

"Anytus and Melitus may put me to death: to injure me is beyond their
power. "

And again:--

"If such be the will of God, so let it be. "




LIII

Nay, young man, for heaven's sake; but once thou hast heard these words,
go home and say to thyself:--"It is not Epictetus that has told me these
things: how indeed should he? No, it is some gracious God through him.
Else it would never have entered his head to tell me them--he that is
not used to speak to any one thus. Well, then, let us not lie under the
wrath of God, but be obedient unto Him. "---Nay, indeed; but if a raven
by its croaking bears thee any sign, it is not the raven but God that
sends the sign through the raven; and if He signifies anything to thee
through human voice, will He not cause the man to say these words to
thee, that thou mayest know the power of the Divine--how He sends a sign
to some in one way and to others in another, and on the greatest and
highest matters of all signifies His will through the noblest messenger?

What else does the poet mean:--

I spake unto him erst Myself, and sent
Hermes the shining One, to check and warn him,
The husband not to slay, nor woo the wife!




LIV

In the same way my friend Heraclitus, who had a trifling suit about a
petty farm at Rhodes, first showed the judges that his cause was just,
and then at the finish cried, "I will not entreat you: nor do I care
what sentence you pass. It is you who are on your trial, not I! "--And so
he ended the case.




LV

As for us, we behave like a herd of deer. When they flee from the
huntsman's feathers in affright, which way do they turn? What haven of
safety do they make for? Why, they rush upon the nets! And thus they
perish by confounding what they should fear with that wherein no danger
lies. . . . Not death or pain is to be feared, but the fear of death or
pain. Well said the poet therefore:--

Death has no terror; only a Death of shame!




LVI

How is it then that certain external things are said to be natural, and
other contrary to Nature?

Why, just as it might be said if we stood alone and apart from others.
A foot, for instance, I will allow it is natural should be clean. But if
you take it as a foot, and as a thing which does not stand by itself, it
will beseem it (if need be) to walk in the mud, to tread on thorns, and
sometimes even to be cut off, for the benefit of the whole body; else
it is no longer a foot. In some such way we should conceive of ourselves
also. What art thou? --A man. --Looked at as standing by thyself and
separate, it is natural for thee in health and wealth long to live.
But looked at as a Man, and only as a part of a Whole, it is for that
Whole's sake that thou shouldest at one time fall sick, at another brave
the perils of the sea, again, know the meaning of want and perhaps die
an early death. Why then repine? Knowest thou not that as the foot is
no more a foot if detached from the body, so thou in like case art no
longer a Man? For what is a Man? A part of a City:--first of the City
of Gods and Men; next, of that which ranks nearest it, a miniature of
the universal City. . . . In such a body, in such a world enveloping us,
among lives like these, such things must happen to one or another. Thy
part, then, being here, is to speak of these things as is meet, and to
order them as befits the matter.




LVII

That was a good reply which Diogenes made to a man who asked him for
letters of recommendation. --"That you are a man, he will know when he
sees you;--whether a good or bad one, he will know if he has any skill
in discerning the good or bad. But if he has none, he will never know,
though I write him a thousand times. "--It is as though a piece of silver
money desired to be recommended to some one to be tested. If the man be
a good judge of silver, he will know: the coin will tell its own tale.




LVIII

Even as the traveller asks his way of him that he meets, inclined in no
wise to bear to the right rather than to the left (for he desires only
the way leading whither he would go), so should we come unto God as to a
guide; even as we use our eyes without admonishing them to show us some
things rather than others, but content to receive the images of such
things as they present to us. But as it is we stand anxiously
watching the victim, and with the voice of supplication call upon the
augur:--"Master, have mercy on me: vouchsafe unto me a way of escape! "
Slave, would you then have aught else then what is best? is there
anything better than what is God's good pleasure? Why, as far as in you
lies, would you corrupt your Judge, and lead your Counsellor astray?




LIX

God is beneficent. But the Good also is beneficent. It should seem then
that where the real nature of God is, there too is to be found the real
nature of the Good. What then is the real nature of God? --Intelligence,
Knowledge, Right Reason. Here then without more ado seek the real nature
of the Good. For surely thou dost not seek it in a plant or in an animal
that reasoneth not.




LX

Seek then the real nature of the Good in that without whose presence
thou wilt not admit the Good to exist in aught else. --What then? Are not
these other things also works of God? --They are; but not preferred to
honour, nor are they portions of God. But thou art a thing preferred to
honour: thou art thyself a fragment torn from God:--thou hast a portion
of Him within thyself. How is it then that thou dost not know thy high
descent--dost not know whence thou comest? When thou eatest, wilt
thou not remember who thou art that eatest and whom thou feedest? In
intercourse, in exercise, in discussion knowest thou not that it is
a God whom thou feedest, a God whom thou exercisest, a God whom thou
bearest about with thee, O miserable! and thou perceivest it not.
Thinkest thou that I speak of a God of silver or gold, that is without
thee? Nay, thou bearest Him within thee! all unconscious of polluting Him
with thoughts impure and unclean deeds. Were an image of God present,
thou wouldest not dare to act as thou dost, yet, when God Himself is
present within thee, beholding and hearing all, thou dost not blush to
think such thoughts and do such deeds, O thou that art insensible of
thine own nature and liest under the wrath of God!




LXI

Why then are we afraid when we send a young man from the Schools into
active life, lest he should indulge his appetites intemperately, lest
he should debase himself by ragged clothing, or be puffed up by fine
raiment? Knows he not the God within him; knows he not with whom he is
starting on his way? Have we patience to hear him say to us, Would I
had thee with me! --Hast thou not God where thou art, and having Him dost
thou still seek for any other! Would He tell thee aught else than these
things? Why, wert thou a statue of Phidias, an Athena or a Zeus, thou
wouldst bethink thee both of thyself and thine artificer; and hadst thou
any sense, thou wouldst strive to do no dishonour to thyself or him that
fashioned thee, nor appear to beholders in unbefitting guise. But now,
because God is thy Maker, is that why thou carest not of what sort
thou shalt show thyself to be? Yet how different the artists and their
workmanship! What human artist's work, for example, has in it the
faculties that are displayed in fashioning it? Is it aught but marble,
bronze, gold, or ivory? Nay, when the Athena of Phidias has put forth
her hand and received therein a Victory, in that attitude she stands
for evermore. But God's works move and breathe; they use and judge the
things of sense. The workmanship of such an Artist, wilt thou dishonor
Him? Ay, when he not only fashioned thee, but placed thee, like a ward,
in the care and guardianship of thyself alone, wilt thou not only forget
this, but also do dishonour to what is committed to thy care! If God had
entrusted thee with an orphan, wouldst thou have thus neglected him? He
hath delivered thee to thine own care, saying, I had none more faithful
than myself: keep this man for me such as Nature hath made him--modest,
faithful, high-minded, a stranger to fear, to passion, to perturbation.
. . .

Such will I show myself to you all. --"What, exempt from sickness also:
from age, from death? "--Nay, but accepting sickness, accepting death as
becomes a God!




LXII

No labour, according to Diogenes, is good but that which aims at
producing courage and strength of soul rather than of body.




LXIII

A guide, on finding a man who has lost his way, brings him back to the
right path--he does not mock and jeer at him and then take himself off.
You also must show the unlearned man the truth, and you will see that he
will follow. But so long as you do not show it him, you should not mock,
but rather feel your own incapacity.




LXIV

It was the first and most striking characteristic of Socrates never to
become heated in discourse, never to utter an injurious or insulting
word--on the contrary, he persistently bore insult from others and thus
put an end to the fray. If you care to know the extent of his power
in this direction, read Xenophon's Banquet, and you will see how many
quarrels he put an end to. This is why the Poets are right in so highly
commending this faculty:--

Quickly and wisely withal even bitter feuds would he settle.

Nevertheless the practice is not very safe at present, especially in
Rome. One who adopts it, I need not say, ought not to carry it out in an
obscure corner, but boldly accost, if occasion serve, some personage of
rank or wealth.

"Can you tell me, sir, to whose care you entrust your horses? "

"I can. "

"Is it to the first comer, who knows nothing about them? "

"Certainly not. "

"Well, what of the man who takes care of your gold, your silver or your
raiment? "

"He must be experienced also. "

"And your body--have you ever considered about entrusting it to any
one's care? "

"Of course I have. "

"And no doubt to a person of experience as a trainer, a physician? "

"Surely. "

"And these things the best you possess, or have you anything more
precious? "

"What can you mean? "

"I mean that which employs these; which weights all things; which takes
counsel and resolve. "

"Oh, you mean the soul. "

"You take me rightly; I do mean the soul. By Heaven, I hold that far
more precious than all else I possess. Can you show me then what care
you bestow on a soul? For it can scarcely be thought that a man of your
wisdom and consideration in the city would suffer your most precious
possession to go to ruin through carelessness and neglect. "

"Certainly not. "

"Well, do you take care of it yourself? Did any one teach you the right
method, or did you discover it yourself? "

Now here comes in the danger: first, that the great man may answer,
"Why, what is that to you, my good fellow? are you my master? " And then,
if you persist in troubling him, may raise his hand to strike you. It is
a practice of which I was myself a warm admirer until such experiences
as these befell me.




LXV

When a youth was giving himself airs in the Theatre and saying, "I am
wise, for I have conversed with many wise men," Epictetus replied, "I
too have conversed with many rich men, yet I am not rich! "




LXVI

We see that a carpenter becomes a carpenter by learning certain things:
that a pilot, by learning certain things, becomes a pilot. Possibly also
in the present case the mere desire to be wise and good is not enough.
It is necessary to learn certain things. This is then the object of our
search. The Philosophers would have us first learn that there is a God,
and that His Providence directs the Universe; further, that to hide
from Him not only one's acts but even one's thoughts and intentions is
impossible; secondly, what the nature of God is. Whatever that nature is
discovered to be, the man who would please and obey Him must strive with
all his might to be made like unto him. If the Divine is faithful, he
also must be faithful; if free, he also must be free; if beneficent, he
also must be beneficent; if magnanimous, he also must be magnanimous.
Thus as an imitator of God must he follow Him in every deed and word.




LXVII

If I show you, that you lack just what is most important and necessary
to happiness, that hitherto your attention has been bestowed on
everything rather than that which claims it most; and, to crown all,
that you know neither what God nor Man is--neither what Good or Evil is:
why, that you are ignorant of everything else, perhaps you may bear to
be told; but to hear that you know nothing of yourself, how could you
submit to that? How could you stand your ground and suffer that to be
proved? Clearly not at all. You instantly turn away in wrath. Yet what
harm have I done to you? Unless indeed the mirror harms the ill-favoured
man by showing him to himself just as he is; unless the physician can
be thought to insult his patient, when he tells him:--"Friend, do you
suppose there is nothing wrong with you? why, you have a fever. Eat
nothing to-day, and drink only water. " Yet no one says, "What an
insufferable insult! " Whereas if you say to a man, "Your desires are
inflamed, your instincts of rejection are weak and low, your aims
are inconsistent, your impulses are not in harmony with Nature, your
opinions are rash and false," he forthwith goes away and complains that
you have insulted him.




LXVIII

Our way of life resembles a fair. The flocks and herds are passing along
to be sold, and the greater part of the crowd to buy and sell. But there
are some few who come only to look at the fair, to inquire how and why
it is being held, upon what authority and with what object. So too, in
this great Fair of life, some, like the cattle, trouble themselves about
nothing but the fodder. Know all of you, who are busied about land,
slaves and public posts, that these are nothing but fodder! Some few
there are attending the Fair, who love to contemplate what the world
is, what He that administers it. Can there be no Administrator? is it
possible, that while neither city nor household could endure even a
moment without one to administer and see to its welfare, this Fabric, so
fair, so vast, should be administered in order so harmonious, without a
purpose and by blind chance? There is therefore an Administrator. What
is His nature and how does He administer? And who are we that are
His children and what work were we born to perform? Have we any close
connection or relation with Him or not?

Such are the impressions of the few of whom I speak. And further, they
apply themselves solely to considering and examining the great assembly
before they depart. Well, they are derided by the multitude. So are the
lookers-on by the traders: aye, and if the beasts had any sense, they
would deride those who thought much of anything but fodder!




LXIX

I think I know now what I never knew before--the meaning of the common
saying, A fool you can neither bend nor break. Pray heaven I may never
have a wise fool for my friend! There is nothing more intractable. --"My
resolve is fixed! "--Why so madman say too; but the more firmly they
believe in their delusions, the more they stand in need of treatment.




LXX

--"O! when shall I see Athens and its Acropolis again? "--Miserable man!
art thou not contented with the daily sights that meet thine eyes? canst
thou behold aught greater or nobler than the Sun, Moon, and Stars;
than the outspread Earth and Sea? If indeed thou apprehendest Him who
administers the universe, if thou bearest Him about within thee, canst
thou still hanker after mere fragments of stone and fine rock? When thou
art about to bid farewell to the Sun and Moon itself, wilt thou sit down
and cry like a child? Why, what didst thou hear, what didst thou learn?
why didst thou write thyself down a philosopher, when thou mightest have
written what was the fact, namely, "I have made one or two Compendiums,
I have read some works of Chrysippus, and I have not even touched the
hem of Philosophy's robe! "




LXXI

Friend, lay hold with a desperate grasp, ere it is too late, on Freedom,
on Tranquility, on Greatness of soul! Lift up thy head, as one escaped
from slavery; dare to look up to God, and say:--"Deal with me henceforth
as Thou wilt; Thou and I are of one mind. I am Thine: I refuse nothing
that seeeth good to Thee; lead on whither Thou wilt; clothe me in what
garb Thou pleasest; wilt Thou have me a ruler or a subject--at home or
in exile--poor or rich? All these things will I justify unto men for
Thee. I will show the true nature of each.