by Epictetus
[24] ‘So now I have to live my life among the mob?’ The mob? You mean crowds? What’s wrong with crowds? Imagine you’re at Olympia, in the middle of the festival, where you will likewise find some people shouting while others conduct business on the side, and everywhere people are jostling one another. The baths, too, are a madhouse. Yet which of us does not enjoy the party, and regret when it’s time to leave? [25] Don’t grow peevish about trivialities. ‘The vinegar is bad, it’s sharp; the honey’s bad, it upsets my constitution; I didn’t like the vegetables.’
[26] Similarly, someone says, ‘I don’t like leisure, it’s boring; I don’t like crowds, they’re a nuisance.’ But if events ordain that you spend time either alone or with just a few other people, look upon it as tranquillity and play along with it for the duration. Talk to yourself, train your thoughts and shape your preconceptions. If, on the contrary, you happen upon a crowd, call it a sporting event, a festival or celebration, [27] and try to keep holiday with the people. What could better please a person who loves his fellow man than the sight of them in numbers? We like to see herds of cows or horses, we delight in the sight of a fleet of boats; why hate the sight of a gathering of human beings?
[28] ‘But they deafen me with their shouting.’
So your hearing is offended; what does it have to do with you? Your power of using impressions isn’t diminished, is it? Who can keep you from using desire and aversion, or choice and refusal, in conformity with nature? No mob is big enough for that.
[29] Just keep in mind the central questions: ‘What is mine, what is not mine? What has been given to me? What does God want me to do, or not do, now?’ [30] It wasn’t long ago he wanted you to take time off, to commune with yourself, to read, write and attend classes on these subjects – all by way of preparation, because you had the time available. Now, however, he’s saying to you, ‘It’s high time you were tested. Show us what you’ve learned, show us how well you’ve trained. How long do you plan on working out alone? We want to know whether you are champion material or a touring professional pushover. [31] So don’t make difficulties, no public match is devoid of commotion. There have to be trainers, supporters, many judges and many people in the stands.’
[32] ‘But I was hoping to lead a peaceful life.’
Well, then, mope and be miserable, as you should be. What greater punishment do you deserve for ignoring and defying God’s will than to be sad, disgruntled and malcontent -unhappy, in short, and ill-fated? Don’t you want to be free of all that?
[33] ‘But how can I do it?’
You’ve often heard how – you need to suspend desire completely, and train aversion only on things within your power. You should dissociate yourself from everything outside yourself – the body, possessions, reputation, books, applause, as well as office or lack of office. Because a preference for any of them immediately makes you a slave, a subordinate, and prone to disappointment. [34] Keep Cleanthes’ verse handy:
Lead me, Zeus, lead me, Destiny.
Do I have to go to Rome? Then I go to Rome. To Gyara? All right, I go to Gyara instead. To Athens? Then Athens it is. To jail? Well then I go to jail. [35] But if you ever think, ‘When do we get to go to Athens?’ you are already lost. Either you’re going to be depressed when your wish is not realized or foolishly pleased with yourself if it is, overjoyed for the wrong reasons. And next time, if you’re not so lucky, you’ll grow disconsolate when events are not so much to your liking. [36] Give them all up.
‘But Athens is lovely.’
It would be lovelier still if you could secure happiness, free of emotion, poised and dependent on no one except yourself.
‘And Rome is all crowds and sycophancy.’
[37] But the reward for enduring such inconveniences is peace. So if this is the time for them, why not conquer your aversion? Why endure them like a donkey hit by sticks? [38] Otherwise, look, you will always have to serve the person who is able to secure your release, or the person who can block your way. You will have to serve him the way you would an evil deity.
[39] There is one road to peace and happiness (keep the thought near by morning, noon and night): renunciation of externals; regarding nothing as your own; handing over everything to fortune and the deity. Leave those things in the care of the same people God appointed to govern them, [40] while you devote yourself to the one thing that is truly yours and that no one can obstruct; make that the focus of all your reading, your writing and your lecture attendance.
[41] I cannot call somebody ‘hard-working’ knowing only that they read and write. Even if ‘all night long’ is added, I cannot say it – not until I know the focus of all this energy. You don’t call someone ‘hard-working’ who stays up nights with their girlfriend. No more do I. [42] If the goal is glory, I call them ambitious; if it’s money, I call them avaricious. [43] If, however, their efforts aim at improving the mind, then – and only then – do I call them hard-working. [44] Never praise or blame people on common grounds; look to their judgements exclusively. Because that is the determining factor, which makes everyone’s actions either good or bad.
[45] Bearing all this in mind, welcome present circumstances and accept the things whose time has arrived. [46] Be happy when you find that doctrines you have learned and analysed are being tested by real events. If you’ve succeeded in removing or reducing the tendency to be mean and critical, or thoughtless, or foul-mouthed, or careless, or nonchalant; if old interests no longer engage you, at least not to the same extent; then every day can be a feast day – today because you acquitted yourself well in one set of circumstances, tomorrow because of another.
[47] How much better cause is this to celebrate than becoming consul or governor; because you have yourself to thank, and the gods. Remember, then, who is responsible for the gift, to whom it was given, and for what reason. [48] With these thoughts, can you doubt where your future happiness lies, or how you will best please God? Is it not the same distance to God everywhere? Are not events equally visible from every vantage point?
IV 13 To those who lightly share personal
information
[1] Whenever we think that someone has spoken frankly about their personal affairs, somehow or other we are impelled to share our secrets with them too and think this is being honest; [2] in the first place, because it seems unfair that we should hear news from our neighbour, and not share with them some news of our own; and secondly, because we imagine that we won’t make a forthright impression if we keep our personal affairs confidential. [3] People often say, in fact, ‘I have told you everything about myself, while you won’t share with me anything about your life; why?’ [4] Additionally, we believe that it is safe to confide in someone who has already entrusted us with private information, on the assumption that they would never betray our secrets lest we betray theirs – [5] which is just how incautious people are entrapped by soldiers in the capital. A soldier in civilian dress sits down beside you and begins to criticize the emperor. Then you, encouraged to trust them by the fact that they initiated the conversation, open up on this score too. Next thing you know you are being hauled off to prison in chains.27
[6] Something similar happens in our everyday life. We keep one person’s secrets, and likewise share our own with whomever. [7] But I don’t divulge what I’ve been told in confidence (if, indeed, I am so honourable), whereas the other person goes off and blabs to all and sundry. Now, if I am like him, after finding out what’s happened I want to get even and proceed to spill his secrets, hurting him and myself in the process. [8] If, on the other hand, I remind myself that one person cannot harm another, but it is rather our own actions that help or harm each of us, then I refrain from acting similarly. My own thoughtlessness was the cause of the trouble to begin with.
[9] ‘Yes, but it’s unfair to receive the confidences of your neighbour and not share anything of your own with him.’
[10] Did I invite your confidences, sir? Did you open up to me solely on condition that yo
u would get to hear my secrets? [11] Just because you are so stupid as to suppose that everyone you meet is your friend, why expect me to do likewise? You were right to trust me with your secrets, whereas you cannot well be trusted with mine; should I then be indiscreet? [12] It’s as though I owned a watertight jug, while you had one with a hole in it, and you came and left your wine with me to store in my jug, and then got angry because I didn’t deposit my wine with you – in your leaky jug, that is.
[13] So how can an exchange between us still be considered fair? You made a deposit with someone trustworthy and high-minded, someone who only regards his personal actions, not externals, as good or bad. [14] Do you want me to make a deposit with you – you who don’t value your character, but only want to earn money, or an office, or advancement at court – even if you have to sacrifice your children to get it, like Medea? [15] What’s fair about that? Just prove to me that you are trustworthy, high-minded and reliable, and that your intentions are benign – prove to me that your jar doesn’t have a hole in it – and you’ll find that I won’t even wait for you to open your heart to me, I’ll be the first to implore you to lend an ear to my own affairs. [16] Who, after all, wouldn’t want to make use of a sound vessel, who doesn’t welcome a friendly and reliable counsellor, who wouldn’t gladly invite someone to share his problems as he would share his burden, and lighten it by the very act of sharing?
[17] ‘Fine. But I have faith in you, and you don’t have faith in me.’
First of all, the reason you can’t keep anything to yourself is that you’re a born loudmouth. If you really do trust me, show it by confiding in me alone. [18] As it is, however, you pull up a seat alongside whoever is free and proceed to accost them. ‘Brother, I have no one nearer or dearer to me than you, please listen to my story.’ You say this to people whom you have barely known a week.
[19] Let’s suppose you do trust me. It must be because you think I’m trustworthy and discreet – not because I’ve already shared with you my private life. [20] So allow me to entertain the same opinion of you. Show me that, if someone discloses his secrets to another, he is therefore personally discreet and reliable. Well, if that were so, I would go around telling everyone my story – if that would really improve my character. But such is not the case; what we need are judgements of a particular kind. [21] At any rate, if you see someone fond of externals, someone who values them over their own moral integrity, you can be sure that he is vulnerable to thousands of people who can frustrate or coerce him. [22] There’s no need of pitch or the wheel to force him to say what he knows; a mere nod from a young woman is enough to get him to talk, a token of favour from a partisan of Caesar, a longing for office, the hope of an inheritance – a thousand other such things in addition.
[23] In general, remember that sharing intimate details calls for people of faithfulness and sound principles; [24] and how easy is it to find people of that description today? Just point out to me, please, someone with the moral fibre to say, ‘I’m only interested in my own business, in what is inalienable, what is by nature free. This, the essence of the good, I hold secure; as for the rest, let it be as it is, it makes no difference to me.’
FRAGMENTS
The ‘fragments’ are mostly brief quotations of passages not found elsewhere in Epictetus’ extant writings. Fragment 9 purports to be taken from ‘the fifth book of Discourses’, which indicates that at least one whole book has been lost, since only four survive. It is likely that some of the other fragments also derive from this source – or perhaps from other books of Discourses that have disappeared. Most of these fragments (‘excerpts’ might be a better word) are preserved in an anthology of writings, mainly on ethical topics, compiled in the fifth century ad by Johannes Stobaeus for the education of his son. Those with a different provenance are indicated below by naming the alternative source.
For the text (and selection of fragments) I follow the Loeb edition (Epictetus: The Discourses as Reported by Arrian, the Manual, and Fragments, ed. W. A. Oldfather, 2 vols., London and Cambridge, Mass., 1925–8), which is based in turn on the edition of Schenkl (Epicteti: Dissertationes ab Arriano Digestae, ed. H. Schenkl, 2nd edn, Leipzig, 1916) with an additional fragment (28b).
1. What do I care whether matter is made up of atoms, indivisibles, or fire and earth? Isn’t it enough to know the nature of good and evil, the limits of desire and aversion, and of choice and refusal, and to use these as virtual guidelines for how to live? Questions beyond our ken we should ignore, since the human mind may be unable to grasp them. However easily one assumes they can be understood, what’s to be gained by understanding them in any case? It must be said, I think, that those who make such matters an essential part of a philosopher’s knowledge are creating unwanted difficulties.
And what of the commandment at Delphi, to ‘know yourself’ – is that redundant too? No, not that, certainly. Well, what does it mean? If someone said to a chorus member ‘Know yourself,’ the command would mean that he should give attention to the other chorus members and their collective harmony. Similarly with a soldier or sailor. So do you infer that man is an animal created to live on his own, or in a community?
‘A community.’
Created by whom?
‘By nature.’
What nature is and how it governs everything, whether it is knowable or not – are these additional questions superfluous?∗
2. Whoever chafes at the conditions dealt by fate is unskilled in the art of life; whoever bears with them nobly and makes wise use of the results is a man who deserves to be considered good.
3. Everything obeys and serves the universe1 – the land and sea, the sun and other stars, as well as the world’s plants and animals. Our body also obeys it in both sickness and health (whichever it dictates), in youth and old age, and in the course of the body’s other changes. So it is unreasonable that our will, which is in our power, be the only thing to try to resist it. It is stronger than we are and very powerful indeed; besides, it has planned for us better than we could ourselves by including us in its grand design. Resistance is vain in any case; it only leads to useless struggle while inviting grief and sorrow.
4. Of things that are, God has put some under our control, some not. The best and most important thing is under our control and the basis of God’s own well-being – the use of external impressions. Rightly used, this leads to freedom, serenity, happiness and satisfaction; it is also the source of justice, law, restraint and virtue in general. He did not put anything else under our control. So we should support God by making the same distinction and doing everything to lay claim to what is in our control, while surrendering what is not to the care of the universe. Whether it asks for our children, our homeland, our body or anything else, resign it gracefully.
5. Which one of you does not admire what Lycurgus the Spartan2 said? He was blinded in one eye by a young citizen of Sparta, who was then handed over to Lycurgus to punish as he saw fit. Lycurgus not only declined to exact revenge, he gave the youth an education and made a good man of him. He then publicly introduced him at the theatre. The Spartans were indignant, but Lycurgus said, ‘The person you gave me was violent and aggressive; I’m returning him to you civilized and refined.’
6. Above all, nature demands that we conform and adapt our will to our idea of what’s right and useful.
7. To imagine that we will be despised by others unless we use every means to inflict harm, especially on our enemies, is typical of very mean and ignorant people. We say that worthless people are recognized by, among other things, their inability to do harm; it would be much better to say that they’re recognized by their inability to do anyone good.
8. The nature of the universe was, is and always will be the same, and things cannot happen any differently than they do now. It’s not just mankind and the other animals on earth that share in the cycle of change, but also the heavens and even the four basic elements: up and down they change and alternate, earth becoming water, water air,
and air in turn becoming fire – with an analogous change from above downwards.3 If we try to adapt our mind to the regular sequence of changes and accept the inevitable with good grace, our life will proceed quite smoothly and harmoniously.
9. [from Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights4 XIX 1, 14-21] A renowned Stoic philosopher drew from his satchel Book Five of the Discourses of Epictetus, edited by Arrian, writings that undoubtedly agree with those of Zeno and Chrysippus. There (translated from the Greek) we find a passage to this effect:
Impressions (which philosophers call), striking a person’s mind as soon as he perceives something within range of his senses, are not voluntary or subject to his will, they impose themselves on people’s attention almost with a will of their own. But the act of assent (which they call) which endorses these impressions is voluntary and a function of the human will. Consequently, when a frightening noise comes from heaven or in consequence of some accident, if an abrupt alarm threatens danger, or if anything else of the kind happens, the mind even of a wise man is inevitably shaken a little, blanches and recoils – not from any preconceived idea that something bad is about to happen, but because certain irrational reflexes forestall the action of the rational mind.
Instead of automatically assenting to these impressions (i.e. these frightening mental images), however (that is), our wise man spurns and rejects them, because there is nothing there that need cause him any fear.5 And this, they say, is how the mind of the wise man differs from the fool’s: the latter believes that impressions apparently portending pain and hardship when they strike his mind really are as they seem, so he approves (the word the Stoics use when discussing this matter) them and accepts that he should fear them as if this were self-evident. But the wise man, soon regaining his colour and composure, (does not assent), reaffirms his support of the view he’s always had about such impressions – that they are not in the least to be feared, but are only superficially and speciously frightening.