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I also lately had an iron lamp placed by the side of my household gods: hearing a noise at the door, I ran down, and found that the lamp had been carried off. I reflected that he who had taken the lamp had done nothing strange. What then?
To-morrow, I said, you will find an earthen lamp: for a man only loses that which he has. "I have lost my garment." The reason is that you had a garment.
"I have pain in my head." Have you any pain in your horns? Why then are you troubled?
for we only lose those things, we have only pains about those things which we possess. "But the tyrant will chain." What?
the leg. "He will take away." What?
the neck. What then will he not chain and not take away? the will.
This is why the ancients taught the maxim, "Know thyself." Therefore we ought to exercise ourselves in small things and, beginning with them, to proceed to the greater. "I have pain in the head."
Do not say, "Alas!" "I have pain in the ear." Do not say, "Alas!"
And I do not say that you are not allowed to groan, but do not groan inwardly; and if your slave is slow in bringing a bandage, do not cry out and torment yourself, and say, "Everybody hates me": for who would not hate such a man? For the future, relying on these opinions, walk about upright, free; not trusting to the size of your body, as an athlete, for a man ought not to be invincible in the way that an ass is. Who then is the invincible?
It is he whom none of the things disturb which are independent of the will. Then examining one circumstance after another I observe, as in the case of an athlete; he has come off victorious in the first contest: well then, as to the second? and what if there should be great heat?
and what, if it should be at Olympia? And the same I say in this case: if you should throw money in his way, he will despise it. Well, suppose you put a young girl in his way, what then?
and what, if it is in the dark? what if it should be a little reputation, or abuse; and what, if it should be praise; and what if it should be death? He is able to overcome all.
What then if it be in heat, and what if it is in the rain, and what if he be in a melancholy mood, and what if he be asleep? He will still conquer. This is my invincible athlete.
How we should behave to tyrants If a man possesses any superiority, or thinks that he does, when he does not, such a man, if he is uninstructed, will of necessity be puffed up through it. For instance, the tyrant says, "I am master of all." And what can you do for me?
Can you give me desire which shall have no hindrance? How can you? Have you the infallible power of avoiding what you would avoid?
Have you the power of moving toward an object without error? And how do you possess this power? Come, when you are in a ship, do you trust to yourself or to the helmsman?
And when you are in a chariot, to whom do you trust but to the driver? And how is it in all other arts? Just the same.
In what then lies your power? "All men pay respect to me." Well, I also pay respect to my platter, and I wash it and wipe it; and for the sake of my oil flask, I drive a peg into the wall.
Well then, are these things superior to me? No, but they supply some of my wants, and for this reason I take care of them. Well, do I not attend to my ass?
Do I not wash his feet? Do I not clean him? Do you not know that every man has regard to himself, and to you just the same as he has regard to his ass?
For who has regard to you as a man? Show me. Who wishes to become like you?
Who imitates you, as he imitates Socrates? "But I can cut off your head." You say right.
I had forgotten that I must have regard to you, as I would to a fever and the bile, and raise an altar to you, as there is at Rome an altar to fever. What is it then that disturbs and terrifies the multitude? is it the tyrant and his guards?
I hope that it is not so. It is not possible that what is by nature free can be disturbed by anything else, or hindered by any other thing than by itself. But it is a man's own opinions which disturb him: for when the tyrant says to a man, "I will chain your leg," he who values his leg says, "Do not; have pity": but he who values his own will says, "If it appears more advantageous to you, chain it."
"Do you not care?" I do not care. "I will show you that I am master."
You cannot do that. Zeus has set me free: do you think that he intended to allow his own son to be enslaved? But you are master of my carcass: take it.
"So when you approach me, you have no regard to me?" No, but I have regard to myself; and if you wish me to say that I have regard to you also, I tell you that I have the same regard to you that I have to my pipkin. This is not a perverse self-regard, for the animal is constituted so as to do all things for itself.
For even the sun does all things for itself; nay, even Zeus himself. But when he chooses to be the Giver of rain and the Giver of fruits, and the Father of gods and men, you see that he cannot obtain these functions and these names, if he is not useful to man; and, universally, he has made the nature of the rational animal such that it cannot obtain any one of its own proper interests, if it does not contribute something to the common interest. In this manner and sense it is not unsociable for a man to do everything, for the sake of himself.
For what do you expect? that a man should neglect himself and his own interest? And how in that case can there be one and the same principle in all animals, the principle of attachment to themselves?
What then? when absurd notions about things independent of our will, as if they were good and bad, lie at the bottom of our opinions, we must of necessity pay regard to tyrants; for I wish that men would pay regard to tyrants only, and not also to the bedchamber men. How is it that the man becomes all at once wise, when Caesar has made him superintendent of the close stool?
How is it that we say immediately, "Felicion spoke sensibly to me." I wish he were ejected from the bedchamber, that he might again appear to you to be a fool. Epaphroditus had a shoemaker whom he sold because he was good for nothing.
This fellow by some good luck was bought by one of Caesar's men, and became Caesar's shoemaker. You should have seen what respect Epaphroditus paid to him: "How does the good Felicion do, I pray?" Then if any of us asked, "What is master doing?"
the answer "He is consulting about something with Felicion." Had he not sold the man as good for nothing? Who then made him wise all at once?
This is an instance of valuing something else than the things which depend on the will. Has a man been exalted to the tribuneship? All who meet him offer their congratulations; one kisses his eyes, another the neck, and the slaves kiss his hands.
He goes to his house, he finds torches lighted. He ascends the Capitol: he offers a sacrifice of the occasion. Now who ever sacrificed for having had good desires?
for having acted conformably to nature? For in fact we thank the gods for those things in which we place our good. A person was talking to me to-day about the priesthood of Augustus.
I say to him: "Man, let the thing alone: you will spend much for no purpose." But he replies, "Those who draw up agreements will write any name." Do you then stand by those who read them, and say to such persons, "It is I whose name is written there;" And if you can now be present on all such occasions, what will you do when you are dead?
"My name will remain." Write it on a stone, and it will remain. But come, what remembrance of you will there be beyond Nicopolis?
"But I shall wear a crown of gold." If you desire a crown at all, take a crown of roses and put it on, for it will be more elegant in appearance. About reason, how it contemplates itself Every art and faculty contemplates certain things especially.
When then it is itself of the same kind with the objects which it contemplates, it must of necessity contemplate itself also: but when it is of an unlike kind, it cannot contemplate itself. For instance, the shoemaker's art is employed on skins, but itself is entirely distinct from the material of skins: for this reason it does not contemplate itself. Again, the grammarian's art is employed about articulate speech; is then the art also articulate speech?
By no means. For this reason it is not able to contemplate itself. Now reason, for what purpose has it been given by nature?
For the right use of appearances. What is it then itself? A system of certain appearances.
So by its nature it has the faculty of contemplating itself so. Again, sound sense, for the contemplation of what things does it belong to us? Good and evil, and things which are neither.
What is it then itself? Good. And want of sense, what is it?
Evil. Do you see then that good sense necessarily contemplates both itself and the opposite? For this reason it is the chief and the first work of a philosopher to examine appearances, and to distinguish them, and to admit none without examination.
You see even in the matter of coin, in which our interest appears to be somewhat concerned, how we have invented an art, and how many means the assayer uses to try the value of coin, the sight, the touch, the smell, and lastly the hearing. He throws the coin down, and observes the sound, and he is not content with its sounding once, but through his great attention he becomes a musician. In like manner, where we think that to be mistaken and not to be mistaken make a great difference, there we apply great attention to discovering the things which can deceive.
But in the matter of our miserable ruling faculty, yawning and sleeping, we carelessly admit every appearance, for the harm is not noticed. When then you would know how careless you are with respect to good and evil, and how active with respect to things which are indifferent, observe how you feel with respect to being deprived of the sight of eyes, and how with respect of being deceived, and you will discover you are far from feeling as you ought to in relation to good and evil. "But this is a matter which requires much preparation, and much labor and study."
Well then do you expect to acquire the greatest of arts with small labor? And yet the chief doctrine of philosophers is brief. If you would know, read Zeno's writings and you will see.
For how few words it requires to say man's end is to follow the god's, and that the nature of good is a proper use of appearances. But if you say "What is 'God,' what is 'appearance,' and what is 'particular' and what is 'universal nature'? then indeed many words are necessary.
If then Epicures should come and say that the good must be in the body; in this case also many words become necessary, and we must be taught what is the leading principle in us, and the fundamental and the substantial; and as it is not probable that the good of a snail is in the shell, is it probable that the good of a man is in the body? But you yourself, Epicurus, possess something better than this. What is that in you which deliberates, what is that which examines everything, what is that which forms a judgement about the body itself, that it is the principle part?
and why do you light your lamp and labor for us, and write so many books? is it that we may not be ignorant of the truth, who we are, and what we are with respect to you? Thus the discussion requires many words.
Against those who wish to be admired When a man holds his proper station in life, he does not gape after things beyond it. Man, what do you wish to happen to you? "I am satisfied if I desire and avoid conformably to nature, if I employ movements toward and from an object as I am by nature formed to do, and purpose and design and assent."
Why then do you strut before us as if you had swallowed a spit? "My wish has always been that those who meet me should admire me, and those who follow me should exclaim, 'Oh, the great philosopher.'" Who are they by whom you wish to be admired?
Are they not those of whom you are used to say that they are mad? Well then do you wish to be admired by madmen? On precognitions Precognitions are common to all men, and precognition is not contradictory to precognition.
For who of us does not assume that Good is useful and eligible, and in all circumstances that we ought to follow and pursue it? And who of us does not assume that justice is beautiful and becoming? When, then, does the contradiction arise?
It arises in the adaptation of the precognitions to the particular cases. When one man says, "He has done well: he is a brave man," and another says, "Not so; but he has acted foolishly"; then the disputes arise among men. This is the dispute among the Jews and the Syrians and the Egyptians and the Romans; not whether holiness should be preferred to all things and in all cases should be pursued, but whether it is holy to eat pig's flesh or not holy.
You will find this dispute also between Agamemnon and Achilles; for call them forth. What do you say, Agamemnon ought not that to be done which is proper and right? "Certainly."
Well, what do you say, Achilles? do you not admit that what is good ought to be done? "I do most certainly."
Adapt your precognitions then to the present matter. Here the dispute begins. Agamemnon says, "I ought not to give up Chryseis to her father."
Achilles says, "You ought." It is certain that one of the two makes a wrong adaptation of the precognition of ought" or "duty." Further, Agamemnon says, "Then if I ought to restore Chryseis, it is fit that I take his prize from some of you."
Achilles replies, "Would you then take her whom I love?" "Yes, her whom you love." "Must I then be the only man who goes without a prize?
and must I be the only man who has no prize?" Thus the dispute begins. What then is education?
Education is the learning how to adapt the natural precognitions to the particular things conformably to nature; and then to distinguish that of things some are in our power, but others are not; in our power are will and all acts which depend on the will; things not in our power are the body, the parts of the body, possessions, parents, brothers, children, country, and, generally, all with whom we live in society. In what, then, should we place the good? To what kind of things shall we adapt it?
"To the things which are in our power?" Is not health then a good thing, and soundness of limb, and life? and are not children and parents and country?
Who will tolerate you if you deny this? Let us then transfer the notion of good to these things. is it possible, then, when a man sustains damage and does not obtain good things, that he can be happy?
"It is not possible." And can he maintain toward society a proper behavior? He cannot.
For I am naturally formed to look after my own interest. If it is my interest to have an estate in land, it is my interest also to take it from my neighbor. If it is my interest to have a garment, it is my interest also to steal it from the bath.
This is the origin of wars, civil commotions, tyrannies, conspiracies. And how shall I be still able to maintain my duty toward Zeus? for if I sustain damage and am unlucky, he takes no care of me; and what is he to me if he allows me to be in the condition in which I am?
I now begin to hate him. Why, then, do we build temples, why set up statues to Zeus, as well as to evil demons, such as to Fever; and how is Zeus the Saviour, and how the Giver of rain, and the Giver of fruits? And in truth if we place the nature of Good in any such things, all this follows.
What should we do then? This is the inquiry of the true philosopher who is in labour. "Now I do not see what the Good is nor the Bad.
Am I not mad? Yes." But suppose that I place the good somewhere among the things which depend on the will: all will laugh at me.
There will come some grey-head wearing many gold rings on his fingers and he will shake his head and say, "Hear, my child. It is right that you should philosophize; but you ought to have some brains also: all this that you are doing is silly. You learn the syllogism from philosophers; but you know how to act better than philosophers do."
Man, why then do you blame me, if I know? What shall I say to this slave? If I am silent, he will burst.
I must speak in this way: "Excuse me, as you would excuse lovers: I am not my own master: I am mad." Against Epicurus Even Epicurus perceives that we are by nature social, but having once placed our good in the husk he is no longer able to say anything else. For on the other hand he strongly maintains this, that we ought not to admire nor to accept anything which is detached from the nature of good; and he is right in maintaining this.
How then are we [suspicious], if we have no natural affection to our children? Why do you advise the wise man not to bring up children? Why are you afraid that he may thus fall into trouble?
For does he fall into trouble on account of the mouse which is nurtured in the house? What does he care if a little mouse in the house makes lamentation to him? But Epicurus knows that if once a child is born, it is no longer in our power not to love it nor care about it.
For this reason, Epicurus says that a man who has any sense also does not engage in political matters; for he knows what a man must do who is engaged in such things; for, indeed, if you intend to behave among men as you do among a swarm of flies, what hinders you? But Epicurus, who knows this, ventures to say that we should not bring up children. But a sheep does not desert its own offspring, nor yet a wolf; and shall a man desert his child?
What do you mean? that we should be as silly as sheep? but not even do they desert their offspring: or as savage as wolves, but not even do wolves desert their young.
Well, who would follow your advice, if he saw his child weeping after falling on the ground? For my part I think that, even if your mother and your father had been told by an oracle that you would say what you have said, they would not have cast you away. How we should struggle with circumstances It is circumstances which show what men are.
Therefore when a difficulty falls upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched you with a rough young man. "For what purpose?" you may say, Why, that you may become an Olympic conqueror; but it is not accomplished without sweat.
In my opinion no man has had a more profitable difficulty than you have had, if you choose to make use of it as an athlete would deal with a young antagonist. We are now sending a scout to Rome; but no man sends a cowardly scout, who, if he only hears a noise and sees a shadow anywhere, comes running back in terror and reports that the enemy is close at hand. So now if you should come and tell us, "Fearful is the state of affairs at Rome, terrible is death, terrible is exile; terrible is calumny; terrible is poverty; fly, my friends; the enemy is near"; we shall answer, "Begone, prophesy for yourself; we have committed only one fault, that we sent such a scout."
Diogenes, who was sent as a scout before you, made a different report to us. He says that death is no evil, for neither is it base: he says that fame is the noise of madmen. And what has this spy said about pain, about pleasure, and about poverty?
He says that to be naked is better than any purple robe, and to sleep on the bare ground is the softest bed; and he gives as a proof of each thing that he affirms his own courage, his tranquillity his freedom, and the healthy appearance and compactness of his body. "There is no enemy he says; "all is peace." How so, Diogenes?
"See," he replies, "if I am struck, if I have been wounded, if I have fled from any man." This is what a scout ought to be. But you come to us and tell us one thing after another.
Will you not go back, and you will see clearer when you have laid aside fear? What then shall I do? What do you do when you leave a ship?
Do you take away the helm or the oars? What then do you take away? You take what is your own, your bottle and your wallet; and now if you think of what is your own, you will never claim what belongs to others.
The emperor says, "Lay aside your laticlave." See, I put on the angusticlave. "Lay aside this also."
See, I have only my toga. "Lay aside your toga." See, I am naked.
"But you still raise my envy." Take then all my poor body; when, at a man's command, I can throw away my poor body, do I still fear him? "But a certain person will not leave to me the succession to his estate."
What then? had I forgotten that not one of these things was mine. How then do we call them mine?
just as we call the bed in the inn. If, then, the innkeeper at his death leaves you the beds, all well; but if he leaves them to another, he will have them, and you will seek another bed. If then you shall not find one, you will sleep on the ground: only sleep with a good will and snore, and remember that tragedies have their place among the rich and kings and tyrants, but no poor man fills a part in the tragedy, except as one of the chorus.
Kings indeed commence with prosperity: "ornament the palaces with garlands," then about the third or fourth act they call out, "O Cithaeron, why didst thou receive me?" Slave, where are the crowns, where the diadem? The guards help thee not at all.
When then you approach any of these persons, remember this that you are approaching a tragedian, not the actor but OEdipus himself. But you say, "Such a man is happy; for he walks about with many," and I also place myself with the many and walk about with many. In sum remember this: the door is open; be not more timid than little children, but as they say, when the thing does not please them, "I will play no loner," so do you, when things seem to you of such a kind, say I will no longer play, and begone: but if you stay, do not complain.
On the same If these things are true, and if we are not silly, and are not acting hypocritically when we say that the good of man is in the will, and the evil too, and that everything else does not concern us, why are we still disturbed, why are we still afraid? The things about which we have been busied are in no man's power: and the things which are in the power of others, we care not for. What kind of trouble have we still?
"But give me directions." Why should I give you directions? has not Zeus given you directions?
Has he not given to you what is your own free from hindrance and free from impediment, and what is not your own subject to hindrance and impediment? What directions then, what kind of orders did you bring when you came from him? Keep by every means what is your own; do not desire what belongs to others.
Fidelity is your own, virtuous shame is your own; who then can take these things from you? who else than yourself will hinder you from using them? But how do you act?
when you seek what is not your own, you lose that which is your own. Having such promptings and commands from Zeus, what kind do you still ask from me? Am I more powerful than he, am I more worthy of confidence?
But if you observe these, do you want any others besides? "Well, but he has not given these orders" you will say. Produce your precognitions, produce the proofs of philosophers, produce what you have often heard, and produce what you have said yourself, produce what you have read, produce what you have meditated on (and you will then see that all these things are from God).
How long, then, is it fit to observe these precepts from God, and not to break up the play? As long as the play is continued with propriety. In the Saturnalia a king is chosen by lot, for it has been the custom to play at this game.

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