The Handbook

The Enchiridion

Or, The Handbook

I

Some things are within our control, and others are not. Within our control are our judgments, our impulses toward action, our desires, and our aversions — in short, everything that is our own doing. Not within our control are our bodies, our property, our reputations, our public offices — in short, everything that is not our own doing. What lies within our control is by nature free, immune to obstruction and interference. What lies outside it is feeble, dependent, obstructible, and belongs to others. So remember: if you mistake what is by nature dependent for something free, and what belongs to others for your own, you will be thwarted, you will grieve, you will be troubled, and you will find fault with gods and men alike. But if you take as your own only what is genuinely your own, and recognize that what belongs to another does in fact belong to another, then no one will ever coerce you, no one will obstruct you, you will blame no one, accuse no one, do nothing against your own will. No one will harm you, and you will have no enemies, because nothing harmful can happen to you.

If your aims are this high, remember that you cannot reach them with a half-hearted effort. Some things you will have to give up entirely, and others you will have to set aside for now. If you want these great things and also want office and wealth, you may well fail to get even the office and the wealth, precisely because you are also reaching for the greater things — and you will certainly fail to get the things through which freedom and happiness alone are secured. So train yourself, from this moment, to say to every disturbing impression: You are an impression, and not at all the thing you present yourself as being. Then test it against the standards you have, and above all by this first one: does it concern something within our control, or something outside it? And if it concerns something outside our control, have this answer ready: It is nothing to me.

II

Remember that desire carries with it the expectation of getting what you want, and aversion carries the expectation of not encountering what you are trying to escape. The man who fails to get what he desires is unlucky; the man who runs into what he wants to avoid is miserable. So if you confine your aversion to the things within your control that run contrary to nature, you will never encounter anything you are trying to avoid. But if you set yourself against illness, death, or poverty, you are guaranteed misery. Withdraw your aversion, then, from everything outside your control and redirect it toward those things within your control that run contrary to nature. As for desire, suppress it completely for the time being. If you desire something outside your control, you are bound to be disappointed; and among the things within your control that would be good to desire, none is yet available to you. Restrict yourself to the impulse toward things and away from them — and even these lightly, with reservations, and without strain.

III

With everything that delights you, or serves some use, or is dear to you, remember to describe it to yourself as the kind of thing it actually is, starting with the smallest cases. If you are fond of a clay pot, say to yourself, “This is a clay pot I am fond of” — and when it breaks, you will not be shaken. When you kiss your child or your wife, say to yourself that you are kissing a human being — and when death takes them, you will not be shaken.

IV

Whenever you are about to undertake something, remind yourself what sort of undertaking it is. If you are going to the baths, picture what happens there: people splashing water, people shoving one another, people insulting one another, people stealing. You will approach the business more safely if you say to yourself, “I intend to bathe, and to keep my will in accordance with nature.” Do the same with every act. That way, if anything interferes with the bathing, you will have this thought ready: “That was not all I intended. I also intended to keep my will in accordance with nature — and I will not manage that if I let this upset me.”

V

People are disturbed not by things, but by their opinions about things. Death, for example, is nothing terrible, or it would have struck Socrates as terrible. What is terrible is the opinion that death is terrible. So whenever we are obstructed, or disturbed, or grieved, let us never blame anyone else, but only ourselves — that is, our own opinions. It is the mark of an untrained man to blame others for his own condition; the mark of a man who has begun his training to blame himself; and the mark of a man whose training is complete to blame neither anyone else nor himself.

VI

Never take pride in an excellence that belongs to something other than yourself. If a horse were to say proudly, “I am beautiful,” that would be tolerable. But when you say proudly, “I have a beautiful horse,” understand that what you are proud of is a horse’s good quality. So what is your own? The handling of impressions. When you handle impressions in accordance with nature, then take pride, because then your pride will rest on a good that is genuinely yours.

VII

On a voyage, when the ship has put in at a port and you go ashore for water, you might amuse yourself along the way by picking up a shellfish or a bulb; but your mind should stay on the ship, and you should keep looking back in case the captain calls, and when he does you must drop all of it, or you will be tied up and thrown aboard like livestock. It is the same in life. If, instead of a bulb and a shellfish, you are given a wife and a child, nothing stops you from taking them. But when the captain calls, run for the ship and leave all of it behind without a backward glance. And if you are old, do not stray far from the ship at all, in case you are called and fail to answer.

VIII

Do not demand that events happen as you wish them to. Wish them to happen as they do happen, and your life will go smoothly.

IX

Illness obstructs the body, but not the will, unless the will consents. Lameness obstructs the leg, but not the will. Apply this reflection to everything that happens to you, and you will find that it obstructs something else, but never you.

X

Whenever anything happens to you, remember to turn inward and ask what capacity you have for putting it to use. If you see an attractive man or woman, you will find that the relevant capacity is self-control. If pain confronts you, you will find endurance. If it is abuse, you will find patience. Train yourself into this habit, and impressions will no longer sweep you along with them.

XI

Never say of anything, “I have lost it,” but rather, “I have given it back.” Your child has died? It has been given back. Your wife has died? She has been given back. Your land has been taken from you? That too has been given back. “But the man who took it is a scoundrel.” What business is it of yours which agent the giver used to ask for it back? For as long as he lets you keep it, take care of it as something belonging to another — the way travellers treat an inn.

XII

If you want to make progress, throw away thoughts like these: “If I neglect my affairs, I will have nothing to live on,” and “If I don’t punish my slave, he will turn out badly.” It is better to die of hunger, free of grief and fear, than to live in plenty and be perpetually agitated; and it is better for your slave to be bad than for you to be unhappy. So begin with small things. Is the oil spilled? Is a little wine stolen? Say to yourself on the spot: “This is the price of freedom from agitation; this is the price of tranquillity — nothing comes free.” And when you call your slave, bear in mind that he may not hear you, and that if he does hear, he may not do what you want. But his position is not so strong, nor yours so weak, that whether you are disturbed should be up to him.

XIII

If you want to make progress, accept being thought senseless and foolish in matters of externals. Be willing to be taken for someone who knows nothing; and if you find that some people regard you as important, be suspicious of yourself. Understand that it is not easy both to keep your will in accordance with nature and to secure external things: if you attend to one, you will inevitably neglect the other.

XIV

If you want your children, your wife, and your friends to live forever, you are being silly, since you are demanding that what is outside your control be within it, and that what belongs to others be your own. In the same way, if you want your slave to be faultless, you are a fool, since you are demanding that badness not be badness but something else. But if what you want is not to be disappointed in your desires, that is within your power. Practice, then, what is within your power. A man’s master is whoever has power over the things he wants or wants to avoid — power to grant them or to take them away. So whoever wants to be free must neither want nor avoid anything that depends on others. Otherwise he is necessarily a slave.

XV

Remember to conduct yourself in life as you would at a banquet. A dish is being passed around and reaches you: extend your hand and take a modest portion. It passes you by: do not hold it back. It has not come round yet: do not stretch your desire out toward it, but wait until it reaches you. Behave this way about children, about a wife, about public offices, about wealth, and in time you will be a fit companion at the banquets of the gods. And if you decline even to take what is set before you, and disregard it entirely, then you will not merely dine with the gods but share their power. This is how Diogenes and Heraclitus and men like them earned the name of divine, and deserved it.

XVI

When you see someone weeping in grief because his child has gone abroad, or has died, or because he has lost his property, take care that the impression does not sweep you away with it, as though the man were suffering from external circumstances. Instead, make the distinction at once in your own mind and have this ready to say: “What afflicts this man is not the event, since it does not afflict someone else, but his opinion about the event.” As far as words go, do not hesitate to show him sympathy, and even to grieve along with him if it comes to that. But take care that you do not grieve inwardly as well.

XVII

Remember that you are an actor in a play, and that the playwright decides what kind of play it will be: short, if he wants it short; long, if he wants it long. If he casts you as a beggar, play even that part well; and the same if he casts you as a cripple, a public official, or a private citizen. Your job is to act well the part you are given. Choosing the part belongs to someone else.

XVIII

When a raven croaks an ill omen, do not let the impression sweep you away. Make the distinction at once in your mind and say: “None of this is a sign about me. It is a sign about my poor body, or my scrap of property, or my reputation, or my children, or my wife. To me, every sign is favorable, if I choose to make it so. Whatever comes of it, it is in my power to benefit from it.”

XIX

You can be undefeated, so long as you enter no contest that is not yours to win. So when you see a man honored above others, or holding great power, or held in high regard for any reason, take care not to assume he is happy, and do not let the impression carry you off. If the nature of the good lies in what is within our control, then neither envy nor jealousy has any foothold in us. And you yourself will not want to be a general, or a magistrate, or a consul, but a free man — and there is only one road to that, which is indifference to what is outside our control.

XX

Remember that what insults you is not the man who abuses you or strikes you, but your opinion that these things are insulting. So when someone provokes you, understand that it is your own opinion that has provoked you. Make it your first concern, then, not to be carried away by the impression. If you can once gain a little time and delay, you will find it easier to master yourself.

XXI

Keep death and exile and everything else that seems dreadful before your eyes every day — death most of all. Then you will never entertain a mean thought, nor want anything to excess.

XXII

If you set your heart on philosophy, prepare yourself from the outset to be laughed at and expect the sneers of many, who will say, “He’s come back to us a philosopher, all at once,” and “Where did he pick up that superior look for us?” Do not put on a superior look. Hold to whatever seems best to you, as a man assigned by God to this post. And remember, if you stand by your principles, the very people who ridiculed you at first will come to admire you later; but if they overpower you, you will earn a double share of ridicule.

XXIII

If it should ever happen that you turn outward in order to please someone else, understand that you have lost your way of life. Be content, then, in every circumstance, to be a philosopher; and if you also want to appear one to somebody, appear so to yourself, and that will be enough.

XXIV

Do not let thoughts like these weigh on you: “I will live without honor, a nobody everywhere.” If lack of honor is an evil, you can no more be made to suffer evil through someone else’s doing than you can be made to suffer disgrace through it. Is it your business to obtain public office, or an invitation to a banquet? Not at all. How then can failing to get these be dishonor? And how will you be a nobody everywhere, when you need to be somebody only in the things within your control — where it is open to you to be a man of the highest worth?

“But your friends will go without help.” What do you mean by “without help”? They will not get money out of you, and you will not have them made Roman citizens. But who told you that these things are within our control rather than in the power of others? And who can give another what he does not have himself? “Make money, then,” they say, “so that we can have some too.” If I can make money and remain modest, trustworthy, and high-minded, show me the way and I will make it. But if you are asking me to lose what is genuinely good and my own so that you can gain what is not good at all, see how unfair and thoughtless you are being. Which would you rather have, money or a trustworthy and modest friend? Then help me toward that instead, and do not ask me to do the things that would cost me that character.

“But my country will go without my help, so far as it depends on me.” Again, what help do you mean? It will not get colonnades or baths from you. And what of it? It does not get shoes from the blacksmith or weapons from the shoemaker either. It is enough that each man fully discharges his own work. And if you supplied your country with one more trustworthy and modest citizen, would you not be doing it some good? “Yes.” Then you cannot be useless to it after all. “What position shall I hold in the city, then?” Whatever you can hold while keeping your integrity and your modesty. But if you lose those qualities in your eagerness to be useful to the state, what use could you be to it once you have been made shameless and untrustworthy?

XXV

Has someone been given precedence over you at a banquet, or in being greeted, or in being called in for advice? If these things are good, you ought to be glad he got them; and if they are bad, do not be upset that you did not. And remember that you cannot expect an equal share of what is outside our control unless you do the same things to get it. How can a man who does not haunt another man’s door get the same as the man who does? Or who does not escort him out, as the other does? Or who does not flatter him, as the other does? You are being unjust and greedy if you refuse to pay the price these things are sold for and still expect to get them for nothing.

What does a head of lettuce cost? An obol, say. If one man hands over his obol and takes the lettuce, and you neither hand over the obol nor take the lettuce, do not imagine you have come off worse than he has. He has the lettuce; you have the obol you did not spend. It works the same way in the other case. You were not invited to a man’s dinner, because you did not pay the host the price at which the dinner is sold — and he sells it for flattery, he sells it for personal attendance. Pay the price, then, if it is worth it to you. But if you want the goods without paying for them, you are greedy and foolish. So have you nothing in place of the dinner? You do, in fact. You have not flattered a man you did not wish to flatter, and you have not had to endure his manner as he comes into the room.

XXVI

We can learn what nature intends from the cases in which we all agree. When your neighbor’s slave breaks a cup or anything else, we are quick to say, “These things happen.” Understand, then, that when your own cup is broken, you ought to think exactly what you thought when your neighbor’s was broken. Carry the same reflection over to weightier matters. Another man’s child or wife has died? There is no one who would not say, “That is the human lot.” But when a man’s own child or wife dies, he cries out at once, “How wretched I am!” We ought to recall how we felt when we heard the same news about someone else.

XXVII

Just as a target is not set up in order to be missed, so nothing in the universe exists whose nature is evil.

XXVIII

If someone were planning to hand your body over to any stranger you happened to meet on the road, you would be furious. And yet you hand your mind over to anyone you happen to meet, so that if he insults you, your mind is thrown into confusion and distress. Are you not ashamed of this?

XXIX

In every undertaking, look at what comes before it and what follows from it, and only then go ahead. Otherwise you will start out eagerly, having thought nothing through, and later, when the unpleasant parts show themselves, you will give it up in shame. A man wants to win at the Olympic Games. So do I, for that matter — it is a fine thing. But look at what comes first and what follows, and then begin. You will have to submit to discipline, eat under strict orders, keep away from rich food, exercise on a fixed schedule whether you feel like it or not, in the heat and in the cold; you must not drink cold water, nor wine whenever you please. In short, you must hand yourself over to your trainer as you would to a doctor, and then go to the contest. And along the way you will sprain your wrist, turn your ankle, swallow quantities of dust, sometimes take a beating — and after all that, lose.

Once you have considered all this, go to the contest if you still want to. If you do not, you will be behaving like children, who play at being wrestlers one moment, flute-players the next, then gladiators, then trumpeters, then tragic actors. So it will be with you: an athlete now, then a gladiator, then an orator, then a philosopher — and with your whole soul, nothing at all. Like an ape you imitate whatever you see, and each new thing takes your fancy in turn, because you never took anything up after due consideration or examined it properly, but casually, on a lukewarm impulse. This is how it goes with men who have seen a philosopher, or heard one speak — Euphrates, say, and who can speak as he does? — and decide they will be philosophers too.

My friend, first consider what sort of thing this is, and then examine your own nature, to see whether you can bear the weight of it. Do you want to be a pentathlete, or a wrestler? Look at your arms, your thighs; take stock of your loins. Different men are built by nature for different things. Do you suppose that if you take this up you can go on eating as you do, drinking as you do, and being disgusted by the same things as before? You will have to go without sleep, work yourself hard, leave your family behind, be looked down on by a slave, take the lesser share in everything — in honor, in office, in the courts, in every trifling matter. Weigh all this, and decide whether you are willing to trade it for freedom from passion, for liberty, for tranquillity. If you are not, then take care that you do not behave like a small child, a philosopher now, then a tax collector’s man, then an orator, then an imperial administrator. These roles do not fit together. You have to be one man, either good or bad. You must either work on your own governing faculty or work on things outside you; you must either apply your skill to what is within or to what is without. That is to say, you must hold the position of a philosopher or that of an ordinary man.

XXX

Our obligations are generally determined by our relationships. Is a man your father? Then the rule is to take care of him, to give way to him in everything, to bear it when he reproaches you or even strikes you. “But he is a bad father.” Were you assigned by nature to a good father? No — to a father. Does your brother wrong you? Then hold your own position in relation to him, and do not consider what he is doing, but what you must do to keep your will in accordance with nature. Another man will not harm you unless you allow it; you are harmed at the moment you believe you are harmed. So in this way you will discover what you owe from the relation of a neighbor, of a citizen, of a commander — provided you make a habit of examining these relationships.

XXXI

As to piety toward the gods, know that the chief thing is to hold right opinions about them: that they exist, and that they govern the whole of things well and justly. Fix yourself in this principle, that your duty is to obey them, to yield to them in everything that happens, and to follow willingly, since what happens is brought about by the wisest intelligence. If you do this, you will never blame the gods, nor accuse them of neglecting you. And there is no other way of arriving at this than by withdrawing from the things not in our power and locating good and evil only in the things that are. For if you think anything not in our power is good or bad, then it is absolutely necessary that when you fail to get what you want, and fall into what you don’t want, you will find fault with the causes of it and hate them. Every animal is formed by nature to flee and turn away from whatever appears harmful, and from whatever causes the harm, and to pursue and admire whatever is useful, and whatever causes the useful. A man who thinks he is being harmed cannot possibly delight in what he takes to be the cause of the harm, any more than he can be pleased with the harm itself. This is why a son reviles his father when the father gives him no share of the things reckoned good; this is what made Polynices and Eteocles enemies, the opinion that royal power was a good. This is why the farmer curses the gods, and the sailor, and the merchant, and those who lose their wives and children. For where a man’s interest lies, there also lies his piety. So the man who takes care to desire as he ought and to turn away as he ought is, by that very act, taking care of piety as well. But to pour libations, to sacrifice, and to offer first fruits according to the custom of our fathers—purely, not meanly or carelessly or stingily, and not beyond our means—is something that belongs to everyone to do.

XXXII

When you resort to divination, remember that you do not know how the matter will turn out, and that you have come to learn this from the diviner; but if you are indeed a philosopher, you knew already, before you came, what kind of thing it is. For if it belongs to the things not in our power, it is absolutely necessary that it be neither good nor bad. So do not bring desire or aversion with you to the diviner; if you do, you will come to him trembling. Rather, having settled it in your mind that whatever the result may be it is indifferent and nothing to you, and that whatever it is you will be able to use it well, and that no one can prevent this—come then with confidence to the gods as your advisers. And when advice has been given, remember whom you have taken as advisers, and whom you will be disregarding if you disobey. Go to divination, as Socrates said you ought, about those matters in which the whole inquiry concerns the outcome, and where neither reason nor any other skill provides the means of knowing what you are asking about. So when we ought to share a friend’s danger, or our country’s, do not consult the diviner about whether you should share it. For even if the diviner tells you the omens from the sacrificed animals are unfavorable, it is clear that this signifies death, or the loss of some part of the body, or exile. But reason prevails that even at these risks we should stand with our friend and our country. Attend, then, to the greater diviner, the Pythian god, who expelled from his temple the man who had not helped his friend while he was being murdered.

XXXIII

Prescribe for yourself at once a certain character and pattern, one you will keep both when you are alone and when you are among others.

Let silence be your general rule, or let only what is necessary be said, and in few words. Rarely, and when the occasion calls for it, we shall say something—but on none of the common topics: not about gladiators, or horse races, or athletes, or eating and drinking, which are the usual subjects; and above all not about people, whether blaming them, praising them, or comparing them. If you are able, bring the conversation of your companions round by your own to what is fitting; but if you happen to find yourself among strangers, keep silent.

Do not laugh much, nor on many occasions, nor immoderately.

Refuse to take an oath at all, if that is possible; if it is not, refuse as far as you can.

Avoid the banquets of strangers and of the ignorant. But if the occasion ever arises to join in one, keep your attention carefully fixed, so that you do not slip into the manners of the crowd. For you must know that if your companion is unclean, the man who keeps company with him must become unclean too, however clean he may happen to be himself.

Take up the things that concern the body only so far as bare use requires: food, drink, clothing, house, servants. Exclude everything meant for display or luxury.

As to sexual pleasure, abstain as far as you can before marriage; but if you do indulge, do so in the way that custom permits. Do not, however, be disagreeable to those who do indulge, or reprove them, and do not keep boasting that you abstain yourself.

If someone reports to you that a certain man is speaking ill of you, do not defend yourself against what has been said, but reply: he clearly did not know the rest of my faults, or he would not have mentioned only these.

There is no need to go often to the theaters; but if the occasion is ever a proper one, do not show yourself the partisan of anyone but yourself—that is, want only what is happening to happen, and only the one who wins the prize to win it. In this way you will meet with no obstruction. But abstain entirely from shouting, from laughter at anyone or anything, and from violent emotion. And when you have come away, do not talk much about what took place on the stage, except so far as it may lead to your own improvement. For if you do talk much about it, it is plain that you admired the spectacle more than you should have.

Do not go to hear certain people’s public readings, or visit them readily. But if you do attend, maintain gravity and composure, and at the same time avoid making yourself disagreeable.

When you are about to meet someone, especially one of those reckoned to be in a superior position, set before yourself what Socrates or Zeno would have done in such circumstances, and you will have no difficulty in handling the occasion properly.

When you are about to visit one of the powerful, set before yourself that you will not find him at home, that you will be shut out, that the door will not be opened to you, that the man will take no notice of you. And if, in spite of all this, it is your duty to go, bear what happens, and never say to yourself that it was not worth the trouble. That is the mark of a foolish man, one who takes offense at externals.

In company, take care not to talk much or excessively about your own exploits or dangers. It may be pleasant to you to mention the dangers you have faced, but it is not equally pleasant for others to hear what has happened to you. Take care also not to provoke laughter, for that is a slippery path toward vulgar habits, and it also tends to lessen your neighbors’ respect for you. It is a dangerous habit, too, to drift toward obscene talk. So when anything of this kind occurs, if there is a good opening, rebuke the man who has started it; but if there is no opening, then at least by your silence, by blushing, and by the displeasure on your face, make it plain that such talk offends you.

XXXIV

When you have received the impression of some pleasure, guard yourself against being carried away by it. Let the thing wait for you, and grant yourself a certain interval. Then think of the two moments: the moment when you will enjoy the pleasure, and the moment afterward, when you will regret it and reproach yourself. Set against these how you will rejoice if you have abstained, and how you will commend yourself. And if it does seem to you that this is a suitable thing to do, take care that its charm, its sweetness, and its attraction do not conquer you; set on the other side the thought of how much better it is to be conscious of having won this victory.

XXXV

When you have decided that a thing ought to be done and are doing it, never avoid being seen doing it, even though most people will form an unfavorable opinion of it. If it is not right to do, avoid doing it altogether; but if it is right, why fear those who will criticize you wrongly?

XXXVI

The proposition “it is either day or it is night” carries great weight in a disjunctive argument, where one alternative or the other must hold, but it is worthless in a conjunctive one, where both would have to be true at once. In the same way, at a dinner party, taking the larger portion has great value for the body but no value at all for the maintenance of good fellowship. So when you are eating with another, remember to consider not only the value to your body of what is set before you, but also the value of the conduct that ought to be observed toward your host.

XXXVII

If you have taken on a role beyond your strength, you have both played that part unbecomingly and neglected the part you could have filled.

XXXVIII

Just as in walking about you take care not to step on a nail or twist your foot, so take care not to damage your own ruling faculty. And if we observe this rule in every act, we shall undertake each act with greater safety.

XXXIX

The measure of a man’s property is his body, as the foot is the measure of the shoe. If you keep to this standard, the demands of the body, you will keep the measure; but if you go beyond it, you must then be swept along as if down a precipice. It is the same with the shoe: once you go beyond the needs of the foot, the shoe is gilded, then dyed purple, then embroidered. Once a thing has passed the true measure, there is no limit to it.

XL

From the age of fourteen women are addressed by men as mistresses. And so, seeing that there is nothing else they can obtain but the power of lying with men, they begin to adorn themselves and to place all their hopes in this. It is worth our while, then, to take care that they come to know they are valued for nothing else than appearing decent, modest, and discreet.

XLI

It is the mark of a small mind to spend much time on the things of the body: much exercise, much eating, much drinking, much relieving of the body, much copulation. These things should be done in passing, as secondary matters; let all your care be directed to the mind.

XLII

When anyone treats you badly or speaks badly of you, remember that he does or says it because he thinks it is his duty. It is not possible for him to follow what seems right to you, but only what seems right to himself. So if his opinion is wrong, he is the one who is hurt, since he is the one who has been deceived. If a man supposes a true conjunction of premises to be false, it is not the conjunction that suffers, but the man who has been mistaken about it. If you start from these opinions, you will be gentle toward the man who abuses you. Say on each occasion: so it seemed to him.

XLIII

Everything has two handles: one by which it can be carried, and one by which it cannot. If your brother acts unjustly, do not take hold of the matter by the handle of his injustice, for that is the handle by which it cannot be carried. Take hold of the other, that he is your brother, that you were brought up together, and you will have taken hold of the thing by the handle that will bear the weight.

XLIV

These lines of reasoning do not hold together: I am richer than you, therefore I am better than you; I am more eloquent than you, therefore I am better than you. These hold together far better: I am richer than you, therefore my possessions are greater than yours; I am more eloquent than you, therefore my speech is better than yours. But you are neither your possessions nor your speech.

XLV

Does a man bathe quickly? Do not say that he bathes badly, but that he bathes quickly. Does a man drink a great deal of wine? Do not say that he does this badly, but that he drinks a great deal. For until you have determined what his judgment was, how can you know that he is acting wrongly? In this way you will not end up giving your assent to impressions other than the ones you have actually grasped.

XLVI

Never call yourself a philosopher, and do not talk much among the uninstructed about philosophical principles; do instead what follows from them. At a banquet, for example, do not say how a man ought to eat—eat as a man ought to eat. Remember that this was how Socrates avoided ostentation entirely: people used to come to him and ask to be recommended to philosophers, and he would take them to philosophers, so readily did he submit to being passed over. So if a conversation should arise among the uninstructed about some principle, as a rule keep quiet, for there is great danger that you will immediately vomit up what you have not digested. And when a man tells you that you know nothing, and you are not stung by it, then be assured that you have begun the work. Even sheep do not vomit up their grass to show the shepherds how much they have eaten; when they have digested the pasture within, they produce wool and milk without. Do the same: do not display your principles to the uninstructed, but display the acts that come from digesting them.

XLVII

When you are supplied with everything your body needs at small cost, do not be proud of it, and if you drink water, do not say on every occasion, I drink water. Consider first how much more frugal the poor are than we are, and how much more capable of hard labor. And if you ever wish to train yourself in labor and endurance, do it for yourself and not for others; do not go about embracing statues in the cold. But if you are ever very thirsty, take a mouthful of cold water, spit it out, and tell no one.

XLVIII

The state and character of the uninstructed man is this: he never looks to himself for benefit or harm, but always to things outside. The state and character of the philosopher is this: he looks for all benefit and all harm from himself. The signs of the man who is making progress are these: he censures no one, praises no one, blames no one, accuses no one; he says nothing about himself as though he were somebody or knew something; when he is obstructed or hindered in anything, he blames himself; if anyone praises him, he laughs at the praiser privately; if anyone censures him, he offers no defense; he goes about like an invalid, careful not to disturb anything that has been set in place before it has firmly settled; he removes all desire from himself, and transfers his aversion only to those things within our power that are contrary to nature; he exerts a moderate impulse toward everything; whether he is thought foolish or ignorant, he does not care; and in a word, he watches himself as though he were an enemy lying in ambush.

XLIX

When a man is proud because he can understand and explain the writings of Chrysippus, say to yourself: if Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this man would have had nothing to be proud of. But what is it that I want? To understand Nature and to follow it. So I look for an interpreter, and when I hear that Chrysippus is the man, I go to him. But I do not understand what he has written, and so I seek someone to interpret him. Up to this point there is nothing to be proud of. And when I have found the interpreter, what remains is to put the precepts into practice; that alone is the thing to be proud of. But if I merely admire the exposition, what have I become except a grammarian instead of a philosopher, with this one difference, that I am explaining Chrysippus rather than Homer? So when someone says to me, read me some Chrysippus, I blush instead, when I cannot show him acts that match and agree with the words.

L

Whatever rules are set before you for the conduct of life, hold to them as if they were laws, as if you would be guilty of impiety in transgressing any one of them. And whatever anyone says about you, pay no attention to it; that is no business of yours.

LI

How long will you go on putting off thinking yourself worthy of the best things, and never transgressing what reason marks out? You have received the principles you ought to have accepted, and you have accepted them. What teacher, then, are you still waiting for, that you defer your own correction to him? You are no longer a boy; you are already a grown man. If you are careless and lazy, and go on making one postponement after another, one resolution after another, fixing one day and then the next as the day you will attend to yourself, you will not notice that you are making no progress, and you will go on uninstructed both in life and in death. So decide at once to live as a grown man, as one who is making progress, and let everything that appears to you to be best be a law to you that must not be broken. And when anything laborious or pleasant, glorious or inglorious, is set before you, remember that now is the contest, now are the Olympic games, and they cannot be postponed; and that a single defeat, a single yielding, is enough for progress to be lost or maintained. This was how Socrates became what he was, improving himself in everything, attending to nothing but reason. You are not yet a Socrates, but you ought to live as one who wishes to become a Socrates.

LII

The first and most necessary department in philosophy is the application of the precepts—for example, that we must not lie. The second is that of demonstrations: how is it proved that we ought not to lie? The third is what confirms and clarifies the other two: how is this a demonstration? What is demonstration, what is logical consequence, what is contradiction, what is truth, what is falsehood? The third department is necessary for the sake of the second, and the second for the sake of the first; but the most necessary of all, the one we ought to rest in, is the first. Yet we do the opposite. We spend our time on the third department, and all our enthusiasm goes there, while we neglect the first entirely. And so we lie—but we have the demonstration that we ought not to lie ready to hand.

LIII

In every circumstance we should keep these maxims ready to hand:

Lead me, O Zeus, and thou O Destiny,

The way that I am bid by you to go:

To follow I am ready. If I choose not,

I make myself a wretch, and still must follow.

But whoso nobly yields unto necessity,

We hold him wise, and skill’d in things divine.

And the third as well: O Crito, if it so pleases the gods, so let it be; Anytus and Meletus can indeed kill me, but they cannot harm me.

Fragments

These fragments were collected under the title Epicteti Fragmenta maxime ex Ioanne Stobaeo, Antonio, et Maximo collecta in Schweighaeuser’s edition, which also contains notes, proposed corrections, and a short essay on them.

We know nothing about Stobaeus or when he lived, except that he preserved some ethical extracts from the New Platonist Hierocles, who lived around the middle of the fifth century AD. From this it is inferred that Stobaeus came after Hierocles. The fragments attributed to Epictetus survive in his anthology, the Florilegium, or Sermones.

Antonius Monachus, a Greek monk, also compiled an anthology, which he called Melissa, “the bee.” His date is unknown, but he certainly came long after Stobaeus.

Maximus, likewise called the monk and honoured as a saint, is said to have been born in Constantinople around AD 580.

Some of the fragments in Schweighaeuser’s edition are certainly not by Epictetus. Many of them are obscure; I have translated them as accurately as I can, and the reader must make of them what he can.

I

A life bound up with fortune is like a winter torrent: turbulent, muddy, hard to cross, overbearing, loud, and soon gone.

II

A soul at home with virtue is like a spring that never runs dry: clear, calm, fit to drink, sweet, sociable, abundant, and incapable of doing harm.

III

If you want to become good, begin by believing that you are bad.

IV

Better to do wrong rarely and admit it, and to act rightly most of the time, than to admit wrongdoing rarely and do wrong often.

V

Discipline your passions, so that they do not punish you.

VI

Do not be so troubled by the disgrace that comes from what people think; run instead from the disgrace that comes from the truth.

VII

If you want to be well spoken of, learn to speak well of others; and once you have learned that, try to act well, and you will reap the reward of being well spoken of.

VIII

Freedom and slavery are the names of a virtue and a vice, and both are acts of the will. Where there is no will, neither of them applies. The soul is accustomed to rule the body, and the things that belong to the body have no share in the will. No man is a slave whose will is free.

IX

Fortune is an evil chain on the body, and vice an evil chain on the soul. The man who is loose in body but bound in soul is a slave; the man bound in body but unbound in soul is free.

X

The body’s chain is loosened by nature through death, and by vice through money; the soul’s chain is loosened by learning, by experience, and by discipline.

XI

If you want to live untroubled and with pleasure, try to make everyone who lives with you good. And you will make them good by teaching those willing to learn and dismissing those who are not; the wicked and the servile will leave along with those who go, and goodness and freedom will remain with those who stay.

XII

It is a disgrace that people who sweeten their drink with what the bees give them should, through their own badness, embitter reason, which is what the gods have given them.

XIII

No man who loves money, pleasure, and reputation also loves his fellow men. Only the man who loves virtue does.

XIV

You would not choose to sail in a great ship, decorated and loaded with gold, if it meant drowning; so do not choose to live in a great and costly house if it means living in a state of worry.

XV

When we are invited to a banquet, we take what is set in front of us; a guest who asked his host for fish or sweet cakes would be thought unreasonable. Yet in the world we ask the gods for what they do not give, and we do it despite the many things they have already given.

XVI

People who take pride in things not within their control, he said, are comic. One man says, I am better than you, because I own a great deal of land while you are starving. Another says, I hold consular rank. Another, I am an imperial administrator. Another, I have curly hair. But no horse says to another horse, I am your superior because I have more fodder and more barley, and my bit is gold and my harness embroidered. He says, I am faster than you. Every animal is better or worse according to its own excellence or its own defect. Is man alone to have no excellence of his own? Must we look instead at hair, and clothes, and ancestry?

XVII

Sick men are annoyed with a doctor who gives them no advice, and conclude he has given up on them. Why should they not feel the same about a philosopher, and conclude that he has given up on their ever coming to a sound state of mind, if he says nothing at all that is of use to a man?

XVIII

Those who are sound in body endure both heat and cold; likewise those who are sound in soul endure anger, grief, excessive joy, and the other passions.

XIX

Ask yourself whether you want to be rich or to be happy. If you want to be rich, understand that this is neither a good thing nor within your power. If you want to be happy, understand that this is both a good thing and within your power, since the one is a loan from fortune, while happiness comes from the will.

XX

When you see a viper, an asp, or a scorpion inside a box of ivory or gold, you do not love it or call it fortunate because of the costliness of the container; because its nature is deadly, you turn away in disgust. So when you see vice housed in wealth and in the swollen abundance of good fortune, do not be dazzled by the costliness of the setting; despise the counterfeit character within.

XXI

Wealth is not among the good things; lavish spending is among the bad; self-control is among the good. Self-control leads toward thrift and the acquisition of what is genuinely good, while wealth leads toward lavish spending and draws us away from self-control. It is hard, then, for a rich man to be self-controlled, or a self-controlled man to be rich.

XXII

If you had been conceived and born aboard a ship, you would not be eager to become its captain — the text breaks off here. The ship is not naturally bound to you, and neither is wealth; but reason is naturally bound to you everywhere. Since reason belongs to you by nature and was born in you, treat it as your own possession and take care of it.

XXIII

Had you been born among the Persians, you would not have wanted to live in Greece, but to live happily in Persia. So if you are born poor, why do you strain to grow rich? Why not remain poor and be happy?

XXIV

It is better to lie cramped in a narrow bed and be healthy than to toss with illness on a wide couch; likewise it is better to keep within a modest income and be happy than to have a great fortune and be miserable.

XXV

Sorrow is produced not by poverty but by desire, and freedom from fear comes not from wealth but from the power of reasoning. Acquire that power, and you will neither crave wealth nor complain of poverty.

XXVI

A horse is not elated or proud of his manger, his trappings, and his blankets, nor a bird of the scraps of cloth in its nest; both take pride in their swiftness, the one in the speed of its feet, the other of its wings. So do not take great pride in your food, your clothes, or any external thing; take pride in your integrity and in the good you do.

XXVII

Living well is not the same as living extravagantly. The first comes from moderation, self-sufficiency, good order, propriety, and thrift; the second from intemperance, luxury, disorder, and impropriety. The one ends in genuine praise, the other in blame. If you want to live well, do not seek to be complimented on how much you spend.

XXVIII

Let the measure of all your food and drink be the first satisfying of the appetite, and let the appetite itself supply both the meal and the pleasure of it. Then you will take no more than you need, you will have no use for cooks, and you will be content with whatever drink comes to hand.

XXIX

Let your way of eating be neither lavish nor grim, but cheerful and frugal, so that the soul is not disturbed by being taken in by bodily pleasures and instead learns to think little of them — so that the soul is not damaged by present indulgence, nor the body made ill by it afterwards.

XXX

See to it that what nourishes you is not the food you put into your stomach but the cheerfulness of your mind. Food is turned into waste and expelled, and the urine flows out along with it; cheerfulness remains uncorrupted always, even when the soul has been separated from the body.

XXXI

At a banquet, remember that you are entertaining two guests, the body and the soul. Whatever you give the body you soon expel; whatever you give the soul you keep for good.

XXXII

Do not mix anger with lavish spending and serve them both to your guests. Abundance that fills the body is quickly gone, but anger sinks into the soul and stays there a long time. Take care, then, not to be carried away by anger and insult your guests at great expense; please them instead with frugality and gentle manners.

XXXIII

At your meals, see that those who serve are not more numerous than those who are served; it is absurd for many people to wait upon a few couches.

XXXIV

Best of all is to take a share of the work even in preparing a feast, and while you are eating to share with those who serve what is set before you. If that is unsuitable to the occasion, remember at least that you are being waited on while you do no work by those who do, while you eat by those who do not eat, while you drink by those who do not drink, while you talk by those who keep silent, while you are at ease by those who are under constraint. Remember this and you will neither be heated by anger into some absurdity of your own, nor provoke another into causing trouble.

XXXV

Quarrelling and wrangling are foolish anywhere, and especially unbecoming in conversation over wine, since a drunk man cannot teach a sober one, nor can a sober one convince a drunk. Where sobriety is absent, it will turn out that all your effort at persuasion has gone nowhere.

XXXVI

Cicadas are musical; snails have no voice. Snails delight in being moist, cicadas in being dry. The dew draws the snails out and they crawl into the open; the sun, when it is hot, rouses the cicadas and they sing in it. So if you want to be a musical man and to harmonize with the company, do not let your soul come out and be fouled at the moment when it is soaked with wine over the cups. When it is fired by reason in company, then tell it to speak like an oracle and sing the oracles of justice.

XXXVII

Consider the man talking with you in one of three ways: as your superior, your inferior, or your equal. If he is your superior, listen to him and let him convince you; if your inferior, convince him; if your equal, come to agreement with him. In this way you will never be guilty of quarrelling.

XXXVIII

Better to assent to truth and so defeat mere opinion than to assent to opinion and so be defeated by truth.

XXXIX

If you are seeking the truth, you will not try by every means to win the argument; and if you have found the truth, your winnings will be that you cannot be defeated.

XL

Truth wins by its own power; opinion wins only among outsiders.

XLI

Better to live with one free man, without fear and free yourself, than to be a slave among many.

XLII

Do not try to inflict on others what you avoid suffering yourself. You avoid slavery; then take care that no one is your slave. If you can bear to own a slave, you show yourself to be a slave first. Vice has nothing in common with virtue, nor freedom with slavery.

XLIII

A healthy man would not choose to be waited on by the sick, or to have sick people living with him; likewise a free man could not bear to be waited on by slaves, or to have slaves living with him.

XLIV

Whoever you are, if you wish not to be counted among the slaves, release yourself from slavery. And you will be free once you are released from desire. Aristides, Epaminondas, and Lycurgus were called the just, the divine, and the saviour not because they were rich and attended by slaves, but because they were poor and delivered Greece from slavery.

XLV

If you want your household well run, imitate Lycurgus of Sparta. He did not fence his city with walls but fortified its inhabitants with virtue, and so kept the city free forever. Do not surround your house with a great courtyard and high towers; strengthen those who live in it with goodwill, loyalty, and friendship, and then nothing harmful will get in, not even if the whole army of wickedness draws itself up against it.

XLVI

Do not hang your house with plaques and paintings; furnish it with self-control. The one is alien to the house and deceives the eye for a while; the other is a natural ornament that cannot be effaced and never fades.

XLVII

Instead of collecting herds of cattle, try to gather herds of friends in your house.

XLVIII

As a wolf resembles a dog, so a flatterer, an adulterer, and a hanger-on all resemble a friend. Take care, then, that you do not unknowingly let in destructive wolves in place of watchdogs.

XLIX

Wanting your house admired for its coat of white plaster is the mark of a man with no taste; setting off your character by the quality of your dealings with others is the mark of a man who loves beauty and loves his fellow men.

L

If you begin by admiring small things, you will not be judged worthy of great ones; but if you think little of the small, you will be greatly admired.

LI

Nothing is meaner than the love of pleasure, the love of gain, and pride. Nothing is higher than greatness of soul, gentleness, love of mankind, and generosity.

LII

People point to the sour-tempered philosophers, the Stoics, who hold that pleasure is not itself in accordance with nature but follows upon the things that are — upon justice, temperance, freedom. Well then: is the soul pleased and made calm by the smaller pleasures of the body, as Epicurus says, and yet not pleased by its own goods, which are the greatest? Nature has given me a sense of shame, and I blush deeply at the thought of saying anything indecent. That feeling will not let me treat pleasure as the good and the purpose of life.

LIII

In Rome the women go about with Plato’s Republic in their hands, because it permits women to be held in common; they attend to Plato’s words and not to his meaning. He does not recommend marriage, one man living with one woman, and then add that women should be shared; he abolishes that kind of marriage and introduces another kind. In short, men are glad to find excuses for their failings — though philosophy says we ought not to stretch out so much as a finger without a reason.

LIV

Among pleasures, the rarest give the greatest delight.

LV

If a man goes beyond moderation, the things that gave the greatest delight will give the least.

LVI

Agrippinus deserves praise for this: though he was a man of the highest character, he never praised himself, and if anyone else praised him he would blush. He was the sort of man, Epictetus said, who would write in praise of whatever unpleasant thing befell him — if it was a fever, he would write about fever; if disgrace, about disgrace; if exile, about exile. Once, as he was going in to dinner, a messenger brought word that Nero had ordered him into exile. Agrippinus said, Very well, we shall dine at Aricia.

LVII

Diogenes said that no exertion was any good unless its purpose was courage and strength of soul, rather than of body.

LVIII

A true balance is neither corrected by another true balance nor judged by a false one; likewise a just judge is neither corrected by other just judges nor condemned by unjust ones.

LIX

What is straight has no need of anything else straight; likewise what is just has no need of anything else just.

LX

Do not give judgment in any court before you have been tried yourself at the bar of justice.

LXI

If you want your judgments to be just, listen to none of the parties to the case, nor to the advocates who plead in it, but listen to justice itself.

LXII

You will stumble least in your judgments if you stumble least in your own life.

LXIII

Better to judge justly and be blamed undeservedly by the man you have condemned than to judge unjustly and be justly blamed before nature.

LXIV

As the touchstone that tests gold is not itself tested by the gold, so it is with the man who has the faculty of judgment.

LXV

It is a disgrace for the judge to be judged by others.

LXVI

As nothing is straighter than what is straight, so nothing is more just than what is just.

LXVII

Which of us does not admire what Lycurgus the Spartan did? After one of the citizens had blinded him in one eye, and the people handed the young man over to him to be punished as he saw fit, Lycurgus spared him. He taught him instead, made a good man of him, and brought him into the theatre. When the Spartans expressed their astonishment, Lycurgus said: I received this young man from you insolent and violent; I give him back to you gentle and a good citizen.

LXVIII

Pittacus, having been wronged by a certain man and having the power to punish him, let him go, saying: Forgiveness is better than revenge, for forgiveness is the mark of a gentle nature, revenge the mark of a savage one.

LXIX

Before anything else, it is nature’s work to bind together and fit together our impulse toward what appears fitting and useful.

LXX

To suppose that others will easily despise us unless we do some injury in return to whoever shows us hostility first is the mark of thoroughly ignoble and foolish men. It amounts to saying that a man is held in contempt for his inability to do harm — when in fact a man is far more likely to be held in contempt for his inability to do good.

LXXI

When you are about to attack someone violently and with threats, remember to say to yourself first that you are by nature a gentle creature; and if you do nothing savage, you will go on living without regret and without blame.

LXXII

A man ought to realise that it is not easy to hold a settled principle unless he says the same things daily, hears the same things, and at the same time applies them to his life.

LXXIII

[Nicias was so devoted to his work that he would often ask his slaves whether he had bathed and whether he had dined.]

LXXIV

[The slaves of Archimedes used to drag him away by force from his board of diagrams to oil him down, and Archimedes would then draw his figures on his own oiled body.]

LXXV

[Lampis the shipowner, asked how he had made his fortune, answered: My great wealth, with no difficulty at all; my small wealth, my first gains, with a great deal of labour.]

LXXVI

Periander, over the wine, asked Solon — who happened to be saying nothing — whether he was silent for want of words or because he was a fool. Solon replied: No fool is capable of staying silent over his cups.

LXXVII

On every occasion, provide for nothing so much as safety; and silence is safer than speech. Leave unsaid whatever is without sense and reason.

LXXVIII

The beacon-fires in harbours raise a great flame from a few pieces of dry wood and give ample guidance to ships wandering at sea; likewise a distinguished man in a storm-tossed state, content himself with very little, does great service to his fellow citizens.

LXXIX

If you were setting out to command a ship, you would certainly learn the steersman’s art thoroughly; so if you would govern a state, learn the art of governing one. Then it will be in your power, as in the first case to handle the whole ship, so in the second to handle the whole state.

LXXX

If you intend to adorn your city with dedicated monuments, first dedicate to yourself the noblest offering of all: gentleness, justice, and generosity.

LXXXI

You will do the state the greatest service if you raise not the roofs of its houses but the souls of its citizens; better that great souls should live in small houses than that mean slaves should skulk in great ones.

LXXXII

Do not decorate the walls of your house with costly stone from Euboea and Sparta; adorn instead the minds of the citizens and of those who administer the state with the learning that comes from Greece. States are governed well by the judgment of men, not by stone and timber.

LXXXIII

If you wanted to breed lions, you would not concern yourself with the costliness of their dens but with the habits of the animals; likewise, if you undertake to preside over your fellow citizens, be less anxious about the expense of the buildings than careful about the manly character of those who live in them.

LXXXIV

A skilful horse-trainer does not feed only the good colts and let the ones that resist the rein go hungry; he feeds both alike, and disciplines the difficult one more, forcing him up to the level of the other. In the same way a conscientious man skilled in political power tries to treat the citizens of good character well, but does not wish those of the opposite character to be destroyed outright. He begrudges neither group its food, but teaches the one who resists reason and law, and drives him on more forcefully.

LXXXV

A goose is not frightened by cackling, nor a sheep by bleating; do not let the noise of a senseless crowd alarm you either.

LXXXVI

Just as you are not thrown off balance when a crowd demands something of yours without reason, so do not be moved from your purpose even by a mob when it tries unjustly to shift you.

LXXXVII

What you owe the state, pay as promptly as you can, and you will never be asked for what you do not owe.

LXXXVIII

The sun does not wait for prayers and incantations to coax it into rising; it shines at once, and everyone greets it. So do not wait for applause and shouting and praise to coax you into doing good. Do good willingly, and you will be loved as much as the sun is.

LXXXIX

A ship should not depend on one small anchor, and a life should not rest on a single hope.

XC

We should stretch our legs, and our hopes, only as far as they can actually reach.

XCI

When Thales was asked what thing is most universal, he answered: hope, because hope stays with those who have nothing else left.

XCII

Healing the soul is more urgent than healing the body, since dying is better than living badly.

XCIII

Pyrrho used to say there is no difference between dying and living, and a man asked him, Why then don’t you die? Pyrrho answered, Because there is no difference.

XCIV

Nature is admirable, and, as Xenophon says, a lover of living things. Consider the body, the most unpleasant and filthiest of all things, which we nevertheless love and care for. If we were required to look after a neighbour’s body for even five days, we could not stand it. Imagine getting up in the morning to scrub someone else’s teeth, and, after attending to certain other necessities, washing those parts as well. It is genuinely remarkable that we love a thing for which we perform such services every day. I fill this bag, and then I empty it — what could be more tiresome? But I must act as the servant of God. That is why I stay here, and put up with washing this wretched body, feeding it and clothing it. When I was younger, God laid another task on me as well, and I submitted to that. Why then will you not submit when Nature, who gave us this body, takes it back? I love the body, you say. Well, as I said a moment ago, Nature gave you that love of the body too — and now Nature says: let it go, and be troubled with it no longer.

XCV

When a man dies young, he blames the gods. When he grows old and does not die, he blames the gods for making him suffer when his suffering should long since have ended. And yet, when death comes near, he wants to live, and sends for the doctor and begs him to spare no effort or care. Remarkable creatures, he said, who are willing neither to live nor to die.

XCVI

Between a longer life that is worse and a shorter one that is better, the shorter should always be preferred.

XCVII

When we are children our parents hand us over to a tutor, whose task is to see on every occasion that we come to no harm. When we have become men, God hands us over to the conscience born in us, to take care of us. That guardianship we must never treat with contempt, for in doing so we both displease God and make enemies of ourselves.

XCVIII

[We should use wealth as the material for particular acts, not indiscriminately for every act alike.]

XCIX

[Virtue, then, should be desired by everyone more than wealth, which is dangerous to fools, since men’s wickedness grows along with their money. The less sense a man has, the more violent his excesses, because he has the means to satisfy his mad appetite for pleasures.]

C

What we ought not to do, we ought not even to think of doing.

CI

Deliberate at length before saying or doing anything, since you will have no power to call back what has been said or done.

CII

Every place is safe for the man who lives justly.

CIII

Crows eat the eyes of the dead, once the dead have no further use for them. Flatterers destroy the souls of the living and blind their eyes.

CIV

The rage of an ape and the threats of a flatterer should be reckoned as one and the same.

CV

Listen to those who mean to advise you what is useful, and not to those who are eager to flatter on every occasion. The first genuinely see what is useful; the second look only for what agrees with the opinion of whoever holds power, and, imitating the way shadows follow bodies, they assent to whatever the powerful say.

CVI

Anyone giving advice should first consider the sense of shame and the reputation of the person he is advising, since those who have lost the capacity to blush are past correcting.

CVII

To admonish is better than to reproach. Admonition is mild and friendly; reproach is harsh and insulting. Admonition corrects those who are going wrong, while reproach merely convicts them.

CVIII

Give from what you have to strangers and to those in need, for the man who gives nothing to the needy will receive nothing himself when he is in need.

CIX

A pirate had been cast ashore and was dying in the storm. A man fetched clothing, gave it to him, took him into his house, and supplied him with everything else he needed. When someone reproached him for showing kindness to a criminal, he answered, I showed this regard not to the man, but to mankind.

CX

A man should pursue not every pleasure, but the pleasure that leads to the good.

CXI

It belongs to a wise man to resist pleasures, and to a fool to be their slave.

CXII

Pleasure, like a piece of bait, is set in front of everything that is truly bad, and it easily lures greedy souls onto the hook of ruin.

CXIII

Choose to punish your appetites rather than be punished through them.

CXIV

No man is free who is not master of himself.

CXV

The vine bears three bunches of grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of drunkenness, the third of violence.

CXVI

Over wine, do not talk at length to show off your learning, for what comes up will be bile.

CXVII

A man is drunk when he drinks more than three cups; and if he is not drunk, he has still gone past moderation.

CXVIII

Let your talk of God be renewed daily, rather than your food.

CXIX

Think of God more often than you breathe.

CXX

If you always remember that whatever you are doing, in soul or in body, God stands by as an inspector, you will never go wrong in any prayer or any act, and you will have God living with you.

CXXI

As it is pleasant to look at the sea from dry land, so it is pleasant for a man who has escaped trouble to think back on it.

CXXII

Law means to serve human life, but it cannot do so when men refuse to accept its services; it shows its particular excellence only in those who obey it.

CXXIII

As doctors are saviours to the sick, so the laws are to those who have been wronged.

CXXIV

The justest laws are the truest ones.

CXXV

It is fitting to yield to the law, to a magistrate, and to anyone wiser than yourself.

CXXVI

Things done contrary to law count the same as things not done at all.

CXXVII

In prosperity it is very easy to find a friend; in adversity it is the hardest thing of all.

CXXVIII

Time relieves fools of their sorrow; reason relieves the wise.

CXXIX

He is a wise man who does not grieve over what he lacks, but takes joy in what he has.

CXXX

Epictetus, asked how a man might cause his enemy pain, answered: by preparing himself to live the best life he can.

CXXXI

Let no wise man refuse the office of a magistrate. It is impious to withhold yourself from being useful to those who need your services, and it is ignoble to give way to the worthless, since it is foolish to prefer being badly governed to governing well.

CXXXII

Nothing suits a man in power better than to look down on no one and show no arrogance, but to preside over all with equal care.

CXXXIII

[In poverty any man can live happily; in wealth and office, very seldom. Poverty is so far superior in value that no law-abiding man would trade it for disreputable riches — unless indeed Themistocles, son of Neocles, the richest of the Athenians, was a better man than Aristides and Socrates, though he was poor in virtue. But the wealth of Themistocles, and Themistocles himself, have perished and left no name behind. In a bad man everything dies at death; what is good is eternal.]

CXXXIV

Remember that this was, and is, and will be the nature of the universe, and that things which come into being cannot come into being otherwise than they do now. Remember too that this change and transmutation is shared not only by human beings and by all the other living creatures on earth, but by things divine as well. The very four elements are changed and transmuted upward and downward: earth becomes water, water becomes air, air is transmuted into something else, and the same process of transmutation runs from above downward. If a man will turn his mind toward these thoughts and persuade himself to accept willingly what is necessary, he will pass through life with complete moderation and harmony.

CXXXV

The man dissatisfied with present circumstances and with what fortune has given him is an amateur at living; the man who bears these things, and what follows from them, nobly and rationally, deserves to be considered good.

CXXXVI

All things obey and serve the universe — earth and sea and sun and the rest of the stars, the plants of the earth and the animals. Our body obeys it too, in sickness and in health, whenever the universe chooses, in youth and in old age, and as it passes through all its other changes. What is reasonable, then, and within our power, is that our judgment should not be the one thing that resists the universe. It is strong and superior, and it has decided better about us than we could, since it governs us as part of the whole. Besides, this opposition is itself unreasonable, and accomplishes nothing beyond tormenting us to no purpose and dropping us into pain and grief.

Fragments of Disputed Authorship

The fragments that follow are assigned partly to Epictetus and partly to others.

CXXXVII

Contentment, being a short road and a pleasant one, brings great delight and little trouble.

CXXXVIII

Fortify yourself with contentment, which is an impregnable fortress.

CXXXIX

Let nothing be valued above truth — not even the choosing of a friendship that lies beyond the reach of the passions, by which justice is both disturbed and darkened.

CXL

Truth is immortal and everlasting, and it gives us a beauty that time does not fade. It does not take away the frankness of speech that comes from justice; it gives us instead the knowledge of what is just and lawful, separating out what is unjust and refuting it.

CXLI

We should have neither a blunt knife nor a badly managed freedom of speech.

CXLII

Nature gave men one tongue and two ears, so that we might hear from others twice as much as we say.

CXLIII

Nothing is really pleasant or unpleasant by nature; things become so through habit.

CXLIV

Choose the best life, and habit will make it pleasant.

CXLV

Take care to leave your sons well taught rather than rich, for the hopes of the educated are worth more than the wealth of the ignorant.

CXLVI

A daughter is a possession her father does not own.

CXLVII

The same man advised leaving children modesty rather than gold.

CXLVIII

A father’s rebuke is an agreeable medicine, since it contains more that is useful than it does of what hurts.

CXLIX

The man lucky in a son-in-law has found a son; the man unlucky in one has lost a daughter as well.

CL

Education, like gold, holds its value in every place.

CLI

Whoever practices wisdom practices the knowledge that concerns God.

CLII

Nothing among living creatures is so beautiful as a man adorned with learning.

CLIII

We should avoid the friendship of bad men and the enmity of good ones.

CLIV

Hard circumstances prove who your friends are and expose your enemies.

CLV

When our friends are present we should treat them well, and when they are absent we should speak of them well.

CLVI

Let no man imagine he is loved by anyone if he loves no one.

CLVII

Choose your doctor and your friend not for being the most agreeable, but for being the most useful.

CLVIII

If you want to live free of sorrow, think of what is going to happen as though it had already happened.

CLIX

Be free of grief, but not through insensibility, like the animals, nor through thoughtlessness, like fools; be free of it as a man of virtue is, having reason as the consolation of grief.

CLX

Those who are least disturbed in mind by disasters, and who in action struggle hardest against them, are the best men both in public and in private life.

CLXI

Those who have been educated, like those trained in the wrestling school, get up again quickly and skilfully after a fall.

CLXII

We should call in reason as a help in misfortune, the way we call in a good doctor.

CLXIII

A fool who has enjoyed good fortune, as though it were a great quantity of drink, becomes more foolish still.

CLXIV

Envy is the adversary of the fortunate.

CLXV

The man who keeps in mind what a human being is will never be disturbed by anything that happens.

CLXVI

A good voyage requires a pilot and a wind; happiness requires reason and skill.

CLXVII

We should enjoy good fortune while we have it, as we enjoy the fruits of autumn.

CLXVIII

It is unreasonable to be distressed at what happens by the necessity of nature.

Some Fragments of Epictetus Omitted by Upton and by Meibomius

CLXIX

Of the things that exist, God has placed some within our power and some not. Within our power he has put what is best and most important, the very thing through which he himself is happy: the use of impressions. When this use is exercised rightly, there is freedom, happiness, tranquillity, constancy — and this is also justice and law, and temperance, and every virtue. All other things he has not placed within our power. So we too should be of one mind with God, dividing things up in this way, attending to what is in our power, and entrusting what is not to the universe; and whether it asks for our children, or our country, or our body, or anything else, we should give it up willingly.

CLXX

When a young man was boasting in the theatre, I am wise, for I have talked with many wise men, Epictetus said: I have also talked with many rich men, and I am not rich.

CLXXI

The same man said that it is no good for the well-taught to talk among the untaught, just as it is not right for a sober man to talk among drunks.

CLXXII

Epictetus, asked which man is rich, answered: the one who has enough.

CLXXIII

Xanthippe was scolding Socrates for making such modest preparations to receive his friends. Socrates said, If they are our friends, they will not mind; and if they are not, we need not mind about them.

CLXXIV

When Archelaus sent for Socrates in order to make him rich, Socrates told the messengers to carry back this answer: At Athens four measures of meal sell for one obol, a sixth of a drachma, and the fountains run with water. If what I have is not enough for me, still I am enough for what I have, and so it becomes enough for me. Do you not see that the actor Polus used no nobler a voice playing Oedipus the king than playing Oedipus the wanderer and beggar at Colonus? Shall the good man, then, prove inferior to Polus, unable to play well every part that God assigns him? Shall he not imitate Ulysses, who in rags cut no worse a figure than in the soft purple robe?

CLXXV

What do I care, he says, whether all things are composed of atoms, or of like parts, or of fire and earth? Is it not enough to know the nature of good and evil, and the proper measure of our desires and aversions, and of our impulses toward things and away from them — using these as rules for managing the business of life, and not troubling ourselves about matters above us? Those matters are perhaps beyond the reach of the human mind; and even if a man supposed them to be entirely within its reach, what profit is there in comprehending them? Must we not say that men who lay these things down as necessary to a philosopher’s discourse are taking needless trouble? Is the precept written at Delphi superfluous too, then — Know yourself? Not at all, he says. What does it mean, then? If a man told a member of a chorus to know himself, would he not have meant, in giving that precept, that the man must pay attention to himself?

CLXXVI

You are a little soul carrying a corpse, as Epictetus said.

CLXXVII

He said that he had worked out a discipline for giving assent; and on the subject of impulses he had found that we must observe attentiveness — that impulses be held subject to reservation, that they be social, and that they match the worth of each thing. He said too that we ought to abstain from desire altogether, and to direct aversion toward nothing that is outside our power.

CLXXVIII

The dispute, he said, is about no ordinary matter, but about being sane or mad.

CLXXIX

Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights, book seventeen, chapter nineteen.

I heard Favorinus say that the philosopher Epictetus said that most of those who appear to be doing philosophy are philosophers of this sort: without the doing, only as far as the saying. He meant, far from deeds, no further than words. There is something still more forceful, which Arrian recorded him as saying habitually, in the books he compiled of Epictetus’s Discourses. When Epictetus noticed a man who had lost all sense of shame, whose energy was misapplied and whose morals were corrupt, brazen, reckless in speech, cultivating everything except his own mind — when he saw a man of that kind also handling the studies and disciplines of philosophy, taking up physics, practicing dialectic, and speculating and inquiring into many theorems of that sort, he would call on gods and men to witness it, and in the middle of his shouting would rebuke the man with these words: “Man, where are you pouring this? See whether the vessel has been cleaned first. If you pour it into your own conceit, it is lost. If it goes rotten, it will turn into urine or vinegar, or something worse than either.” Nothing could be weightier or truer than these words, by which the greatest of philosophers made it plain that the writings and teachings of philosophy, once they have flowed into a false and degenerate man as into a foul and polluted jar, are turned, altered, corrupted, and, as he himself put it in rather Cynic fashion, become urine, or something dirtier than urine. Besides this, the same Epictetus, as we heard from the same Favorinus, used to say that there are two faults by far the gravest and ugliest of all, an inability to endure and an inability to restrain oneself: when we neither tolerate nor put up with injuries that ought to be borne, or when we fail to hold ourselves back from things and pleasures we ought to avoid. And so, he said, if a man takes these two words to heart, and sees to them by commanding himself and watching himself, he will be for the most part free from fault and will live an entirely tranquil life. The two words he used to give were these: Bear, and Forbear.

CLXXX

Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights, book nineteen, chapter one.

A philosopher of some standing in the Stoic school took out of his little travelling bag the fifth book of the Discourses of the philosopher Epictetus, which were arranged by Arrian and which beyond doubt agree with the writings of Zeno and Chrysippus. In that book, written of course in Greek, we read to this effect: “The impressions of the mind, which philosophers call phantasiai, by which a man’s mind is struck at the very first appearance of whatever reaches it, are not matters of the will, nor subject to choice; they force themselves on us by a power of their own, to be taken notice of. But the approvals, which they call synkatatheseis, by which those same impressions are recognized and judged, are voluntary, and take place by a man’s own decision. So when some sound comes from the sky or from a building collapsing, or when there is a sudden report of danger, or anything else of that kind occurs, even the wise man’s mind is necessarily moved for a moment; it contracts and grows pale — not from any settled opinion that an evil is present, but by certain rapid and unconsidered movements that outrun the work of mind and reason. Yet immediately afterward the wise man does not approve those impressions, those alarming pictures in his own mind; that is, he does not assent to them and does not add his own further opinion to them, but throws them off and spits them out, and he sees nothing in them that need be feared. And they say this is the difference between the mind of the fool and the mind of the wise man: the fool believes that things really are as savage and harsh as they appeared at the first shock to his mind, and by his own assent approves them and confirms them, as if they were rightly to be feared, adding his own opinion — this being the term the Stoics use when discussing the matter. The wise man, when his colour and expression have been briefly and slightly moved, does not assent, but keeps intact the standing and vigour of the judgment he has always held about impressions of this kind: that they are not to be feared at all, and terrify only by a false front and an empty dread.”

CLXXXI

Arnobius, Against the Nations, at the end of book two.

When what is at stake is the salvation of souls and our concern for ourselves, something must be done even without a reason — as Arrian confirms that Epictetus said.

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