by Epictetus
[4] So what can? The faculty that analyses itself as well as the others, namely, the faculty of reason. Reason is unique among the faculties assigned to us in being able to evaluate itself – what it is, what it is capable of, how valuable it is – in addition to passing judgement on others.
[5] What decides whether a sum of money is good? The money is not going to tell you; it must be the faculty that makes use of such impressions – reason. [6] Reason, in addition, takes the measure of music, grammar and the other arts, judging their benefit and deciding when it’s best to use them.
[7] So it’s only appropriate that the gods have given us the best and most efficacious gift: the ability to make good use of impressions. Other capacities they did not put in our power. [8] Was it because they did not want to? Personally, I believe that they would have endowed us with those others too, had they been able. But they were not. [9] Since we are on earth, you see, bound to a material body and material things, we can hardly avoid being limited by these extraneous factors.
[10] Well, what does Zeus say? ‘Epictetus, if it were possible, I would have made your little body and possessions both free and unrestricted. [11] As it is, though, make no mistake: this body does not belong to you, it is only cunningly constructed clay. [12] And since I could not make the body yours, I have given you a portion of myself instead, the power of positive and negative impulse, of desire and aversion – the power, in other words, of making good use of impressions. If you take care of it and identify with it, you will never be blocked or frustrated; you won’t have to complain, and never will need to blame or flatter anyone. [13] Is that enough to satisfy you?’
‘It’s more than enough. Thank you.’
[14] And yet, while there is only the one thing we can care for and devote ourselves to, we choose instead to care about and attach ourselves to a score of others: to our bodies, to our property, to our family, friends and slaves. [15] And, being attached to many things, we are weighed down and dragged along with them. [16] If the weather keeps us from travelling, we sit down, fret, and keep asking, ‘Which way is the wind blowing?’ ‘From the north.’ ‘That’s no good. When will it blow from the west?’ ‘When it wants to, or rather when Aeolus wants it to; because God put Aeolus in charge of the winds, not you.’ [17] What should we do then? Make the best use of what is in our power, and treat the rest in accordance with its nature. And what is its nature? However God decides.
[18] ‘Must I be beheaded now, and alone?’ Well, do you want everyone to be beheaded just because misery loves company? [19] Why not hold out your neck the way Lateranus did at Rome, when condemned by Nero to be beheaded? He held out his neck willingly to take the blow – but the blow was deficient, so he recoiled a bit, but then had enough self-command to offer his neck a second time. [20] And prior to that, when Epaphroditus, Nero’s freedman, approached a certain man and asked him about the grounds of his offence, he replied, ‘If I want anything, I will tell it to your master.’1
[21] What should we have ready at hand in a situation like this? The knowledge of what is mine and what is not mine, what I can and cannot do. [22] I must die. But must I die bawling? I must be put in chains – but moaning and groaning too? I must be exiled; but is there anything to keep me from going with a smile, calm and self-composed?
‘Tell us your secrets.’
[23] ‘I refuse, as this is up to me.’
‘I will put you in chains.’
‘What’s that you say, friend? It’s only my leg you will chain, not even God can conquer my will.’
[24] ‘I will throw you into prison.’
‘Correction – it is my body you will throw there.’
‘I will behead you.’
‘Well, when did I ever claim that mine was the only neck that couldn’t be severed?’
[25] That’s the kind of attitude you need to cultivate if you would be a philosopher, the sort of sentiments you should write down every day and put in practice.
[26] Thrasea used to say, ‘I would sooner be killed today than banished tomorrow.’2 [27] And what did Musonius say to him? ‘If you choose death because it is the greater evil, what sense is there in that? Or if you choose it as the lesser evil, remember who gave you the choice. Why not try coming to terms with what you have been given?’
[28] Agrippinus used to say, ‘I don’t add to my troubles.’ To illustrate, someone once said to him, ‘You are being tried in the Senate – [29] good luck.’ But it was eleven in the morning, and at that hour he was in the habit of taking his bath and exercise. ‘Let us be off to exercise.’ [30] When he was done, word came that he had been condemned. ‘To exile,’ he asked, ‘or death?’ ‘Exile.’ ‘And my estate, what about that?’ ‘It has not been confiscated.’ ‘Well then, let us go to my villa in Aricia and have lunch there.’ [31] This shows what is possible when we practise what is necessary, and make our desire and aversion safe against any setback or adversity. [32] ‘I have to die. If it is now, well then I die now; if later, then now I will take my lunch, since the hour for lunch has arrived – and dying I will tend to later.’ How? As someone who knows that you have to return what belongs to somebody else.
I 2 How a person can preserve their proper character in any situation
[1] Man, the rational animal, can put up with anything except what seems to him irrational; whatever is rational is tolerable. [2] Physical hardships are not intolerable by nature. The Spartans, for instance, gladly submit to being whipped because they are taught that it is done for good reason. [3] But what about being hanged – isn’t that intolerable? Well, people frequently go and hang themselves, whenever they judge that it is a reasonable course of action.
[4] In short, reflection will show that people are put off by nothing so much as what they think is unreasonable, and attracted to nothing more than what to them seems reasonable.
[5] But standards of reasonableness and unreasonableness vary from one person to the next – just as we consider different things good or bad, harmful or beneficial. [6] Which is why education has no goal more important than bringing our preconception of what is reasonable and unreasonable in alignment with nature.
[7] But this not only involves weighing the value of externals, it also means considering what agrees with our own, individual nature. [8] For one person it is reasonable to be a bathroom attendant, because he only thinks about what punishment and privation lie in wait for him otherwise, and knows that if he accepts the assignment he will be spared that pain and hardship. [9] Someone else not only finds such a job intolerable for him personally, but finds it intolerable that anyone should have to perform it. [10] But ask me, ‘Shall I be a bathroom attendant or not?’ and I will tell you that earning a living is better than starving to death; so that if you measure your interests by these criteria, go ahead and do it. [11] ‘But it would be beneath my dignity.’ Well, that is an additional factor that you bring to the question, not me. You are the one who knows yourself – which is to say, you know how much you are worth in your own estimation, and therefore at what price you will sell yourself; because people sell themselves at different rates.
[12] So, for instance, Agrippinus told Florus to ‘Go ahead’ when he was debating whether to attend Nero’s festival, maybe even participate. [13] But when Florus asked him why he was not going himself, Agrippinus answered, ‘I don’t even consider the possibility.’ [14] Taking account of the value of externals, you see, comes at some cost to the value of one’s own character.
[15] So if you want to know if life or death is better, the answer I give is, ‘Life.’ [16] If you ask about pain versus pleasure, I say, ‘Pleasure is preferable.’
‘But if I refuse to participate in Nero’s festival, he will kill me.’
[17] Go ahead and participate, then – but I still refuse.
‘Why?’
Because you think of yourself as no more than a single thread in the robe, whose duty it is to conform to the mass of people – just as a single white thread seemingly
has no wish to clash with the remainder of the garment. [18] But I aspire to be the purple stripe, that is, the garment’s brilliant hem. However small a part it may be, it can still manage to make the garment as a whole attractive. Don’t tell me, then, ‘Be like the rest,’ because in that case I cannot be the purple stripe.3
[19] In his actions Helvidius Priscus showed his awareness of this principle. When Emperor Vespasian sent him word barring him from the Senate, his response was, ‘You can disqualify me as a senator. But as long as I do remain a member I must join the assembly.’ [20] ‘Well join, then, but don’t say anything.’ ‘Don’t call on me for my vote and I won’t say anything.’ ‘But I must call on you for your vote.’ ‘And I have to give whatever answer I think is right.’ [21] ‘Answer, and I will kill you.’ ‘Did I ever say I was immortal? You do your part, and I will do mine. It is your part to kill me, mine to die without flinching; your part to exile me, mine to leave without protest.’
[22] And what did Priscus accomplish, who was but a single man? Well, what good does the purple stripe do the robe? Its lustre is a good example to the rest. [23] If it had been someone else in the same situation whom the emperor barred from entering the Senate, he would have probably said, ‘I’m so grateful you can spare me.’ [24] In fact, the emperor would not have even bothered to bar him, well aware that the man would either sit there like a blockhead or, if he did speak, would only mouth words he knew that Caesar wanted to hear – and would pile additional inanities on besides.
[25] A certain athlete, at risk of dying unless his genitals were amputated, made a comparable choice. His brother, a philosopher, went and asked him, ‘Well, my brother, what’s it going to be? Will you have them amputated, and return to life in the gymnasium?’ The man refused to submit to the indignity, however, and summoned the will to die. [26] Someone asked, ‘Did he choose death as an athlete or as a philosopher?’ ‘As a man,’ Epictetus said, ‘one who had competed at the level of the Olympic Games, where he was a familiar figure, and a victor more than once – no occasional visitor to the local gym. [27] Someone else might have even allowed his head to be removed, if his life could have been saved thereby. [28] That’s what I mean by having consideration for one’s character. And it shows how weighty a factor it can be when it is allowed a regular role in one’s deliberations.
[29] ‘Come, Epictetus, shave off your beard.’
If I am a philosopher, I will not shave it off.
‘But I will cut off your head.’
If that will do you any good, then cut it off.
[30] Someone asked, ‘But how do we know what is in keeping with our character?’
Well, how does the bull realize its own strength, rushing out to protect the whole herd when a lion attacks? The possession of a particular talent is instinctively sensed by its owner; [31] so if any of you are so blessed you will be the first to know it. [32] It is true, however, that no bull reaches maturity in an instant, nor do men become heroes overnight. We must endure a winter training, and can’t be dashing into situations for which we aren’t yet prepared.
[33] Consider at what price you sell your integrity; but please, for God’s sake, don’t sell it cheap. The grand gesture, the ultimate sacrifice – that, perhaps, belongs to others, to people of Socrates’ class. [34] ‘But if we are endowed by nature with the potential for greatness, why do only some of us achieve it?’ Well, do all horses become stallions? Are all dogs greyhounds? [35] Even if I lack the talent, I will not abandon the effort on that account. [36] Epictetus will not be better than Socrates. But if I am no worse, I am satisfied. [37] I mean, I will never be Milo either; nevertheless, I don’t neglect my body. Nor will I be another Croesus – and still, I don’t neglect my property. In short, we do not abandon any discipline for despair of ever being the best in it.
I 3 How to draw the correct consequences from the fact that God is the father of mankind
[1] If we could completely subscribe, as we should, to the view that we are all primary creatures of God, and that God is father of both gods and men, I don’t believe that we would ever think mean or lowly thoughts about ourselves. [2] If the emperor adopts you, no one will be able to put up with your pretension; but knowing that you are the son of God, shouldn’t your pride be that much greater?
[3] In fact, though, we react quite differently. Two elements are combined in our creation, the body, which we have in common with the beasts; and reason and good judgement, which we share with the gods. Most of us tend toward the former connection, miserable and mortal though it is, whereas only a few favour this holy and blessed alliance.
[4] Since everyone will necessarily treat things in accordance with their beliefs about them, those few who think that they are born for fidelity, respect and confidence in their use of impressions entertain no mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves, while the majority does the opposite. [5] ‘What am I? A wretched mortal – a feeble piece of flesh.’ [6] Feeble indeed – but you have something better than the flesh. So why turn away from this and cling to that?
[7] Because of this connection, some of us sink to the level of wolves – faithless, vicious and treacherous. Others turn into lions – wild, savage and uncivilized. But most of us become like foxes, the sorriest of the lot. [8] For what else is a spiteful, malicious man except a fox, or something even lower and less dignified?
[9] See that you don’t turn out like one of those unfortunates.
I 4 On progress
[1] Whoever is making progress, after learning from philosophers that desire is directed toward good things and avoidance directed toward bad, and having also learned that impassivity and a good flow of life are not attained except through unerring desire and unfailing avoidance – that person will do away with desire altogether, or else defer it to another time, and exercise avoidance only on things within the moral sphere. [2] Because they know that if they try to avoid anything outside the moral sphere they are going to run into something contrary to their aversion and face disaster.
[3] But if virtue holds this promise – to secure happiness, impassivity, and a good flow of life – then progress toward virtue must involve progress toward these other states as well. [4] For wherever the perfection of anything tends, progress is always an approach towards the same thing.
[5] So how is it that, although we are now agreed about the nature of virtue, we still try to demonstrate progress in areas that are unrelated? What is the goal of virtue, after all, except a life that flows smoothly? [6] So who is making progress – the person who has read many of Chrysippus’ books? [7] Is virtue no more than this – to become literate in Chrysippus? Because, if that’s what it is, then progress cannot amount to anything more than learning as much Chrysippus as we can. [8] We are agreed, however, that virtue produces one thing, while maintaining that the approach to it, progress, results in something different. [9] ‘This person can read Chrysippus already by himself. You are making progress, by God,’ someone says sarcastically. ‘Some progress that is!’ [10] ‘Why do you make fun of him?’ ‘Well, why do you try to distract him from coming to an awareness of his faults?’ Don’t you want to show him the purpose of virtue, so that he will know what real progress consists in? [11] Look for it in your volition, friend – that is, in your desire and avoidance. Make it your goal never to fail in your desires or experience things you would rather avoid; try never to err in impulse and repulsion; aim to be perfect also in the practice of attention and withholding judgement. [12] But the first subjects are the most essential. If you aim to be perfect when you are still anxious and apprehensive, how have you made progress? [13] So let’s see some evidence of it. But no, it’s as if I were to say to an athlete, ‘Show me your shoulders,’ and he responded with, ‘Have a look at my weights.’ ‘Get out of here with you and your gigantic weights!’ I’d say, ‘What I want to see isn’t the weights but how you’ve profited from using them.’
[14] ‘Take the treatise On Impulse and see how well I’ve read it.’ Idiot. It�
��s not that I’m after, I want to know how you put impulse and repulsion into practice, and desire and avoidance as well. I want to know how you apply and prepare yourself, and how you practise attention,∗ so that I can decide whether with you these functions operate in harmony with nature. [15] If you are, in fact, acting in accord with nature, then show me, and I will be the first to say that you are making progress. But otherwise, be off, and rather than just comment on books, you might as well go write one yourself. But, in the end, what good will it do you? [16] You know that a whole book costs around five denarii.4 Is the commentator, then, worth more than that? [17] Don’t put your purpose in one place and expect to see progress made somewhere else.
[18] Where is progress, then? If there is anyone who renounces externals and attends instead to their character, cultivating and perfecting it so that it agrees with nature, making it honest and trustworthy, elevated, free, unchecked and undeterred; [19] and if they’ve learned that whoever desires or avoids things outside their control cannot be free or faithful, but has to shift and fluctuate right along with them, subject to anyone with the power to furnish or deprive them of these externals; [20] and if from the moment they get up in the morning they adhere to their ideals, eating and bathing like a person of integrity, putting their principles into practice in every situation they face – the way a runner does when he applies the principles of running, or a singer those of musicianship [21] – that is where you will see true progress embodied, and find someone who has not wasted their time making the journey here from home.