BOOK II.

“Warden of men, and with so many cares.”Il.ii. 25.

on whom it lies to oversee all men, the married, and parents, and who useth his wife well, and who ill, and who wrangles, and what household is well-ordered, and what not; going about as a physician, and feeling pulses—“thou hast a fever, thou a headache, thou the gout; do thou fast, do thou eat, do thou avoid the bath, thou needest the knife, thou the cautery?” Where is the place for leisure to one who is bound to private duties? Must he not provide raiment for his children? yea, and send them to the schoolmaster with their tablets and writing instruments? and have a bed ready for them, since a man cannot be a Cynic from the womb? Else were it better to cast them away at once than kill them in this way. See, now, to what we have brought our Cynic—how we have taken away his kingship from him!True, but Crates married.Thou speakest of a circumstance that arosefrom love, and adducest a wife who was another Crates.11But our inquiry is concerning common marriages, and how men may be undistracted; and thus inquiring, we do not find it, in this condition of the world, a purpose of chief concern for a Cynic.

15.How, then, said he,shall he still be preserving the community?God help thee! Whether do they best serve mankind who fill their own place by bringing into the world two or three screaming children, or those who, as far they may, oversee all men, what they do, how they live, wherewith they concern themselves, and what duties they neglect? And were the Thebans more benefited by as many as left their little children behind, or by Epaminondas, who died childless? And did Priam, who begat fifty good-for-nothing sons, or Danaus, or Æolus,12better serve the community than Homer? Shall, then, the command of an army or the writing of poems withdraw a man from marriage and fatherhood, and he shall not be thought to have gained nothing for his childlessness, but the kingship of a Cynic shall be not worth what it costs? It may be we do not perceive his greatness, nor do we worthily conceive of the character of Diogenes; but we turn away our eyes to the present Cynics, “watch-dogs of the dining-room,”13who in nothing resemble those others, save perchance in breakingwind; but in no other thing. For else these things would not have moved us, nor should we have marveled if a Cynic will not marry nor beget children. Man! he hath begotten all mankind, he hath all men for his sons, all women for his daughters; so doth he visit all and care for all. Thinkest thou that he is a mere meddler and busybody in rebuking those whom he meets? As a father he doth it, as a brother, and as servant of the Universal Father, which is God.

16. If it please thee, ask of me also whether he shall have to do with affairs of public polity? Fool! dost thou seek a greater polity than that in whose affairs he is already concerned? Will it be greater if he come forward among the Athenians to say something about ways or means—he, whose part it is to discourse with all men, Athenians, Corinthians, Romans alike, not concerning means or ways, nor concerning peace or war, but about happiness and unhappiness, about good-fortune and ill-fortune, about slavery and freedom? And of a man that hath his part in so great a polity will you ask me if he shall attend to public affairs? Ask me also if he shall be a ruler; and again I shall say, Thou fool, what rule can be greater than his?

17. And to such a man there is need also of a certain kind of body. For if he shall appear consumptive, meager, and pale, his witness hath not the same emphasis. Notonly by showing forth the things of the spirit must he convince foolish men that it is possible, without the things that are admired of them, to be good and wise, but also in his body must he show that plain and simple and open-air living are not mischievous even to the body: “Behold, even of this I am a witness, I and my body.” So Diogenes was wont to do, for he went about radiant with health, and with his very body he turned many to good. But a Cynic that men pity seems to be a beggar—all men turn away from him, all stumble at him. For he must not appear squalid; so that neither in this respect shall he scare men away; but his very austerity should be cleanly and pleasing.

18. Much grace of body, then, must belong to the Cynic, and also quickness of mind, else he is a mere clot of slime and nothing else; for he must be ready and apt to meet all that may befall him. Thus when one said to Diogenes:Thou art that Diogenes who thinkest there are no Gods, he replied,And how may that be, seeing I hold thee hateful to the Gods?And again, when Alexander stood beside him, as he was lying asleep, and said:

“Not all night must a man of counsel sleep,”

he answered, ere he was yet awake:

“Warden of men, and with so many cares.”14

19. But before all things must his ruling faculty be purer than the sun, else he must needs be a gambler and cheater, who, being himself entangled in some iniquity, will reprove others. For, see how the matter stands: to these kings and tyrants, their spearmen and their arms give the office of reproving men, and the power to punish transgressors, yea, though they themselves be evil; but to the Cynic, instead of arms and spearmen, his conscience giveth this power. When he knows that he has watched and labored for men, and lain down to sleep in purity, and sleep hath left him yet purer; and that his thoughts have been the thoughts of one dear to the Gods, of a servant, and a sharer in the rule of Zeus; and he hath had ever at hand that

“Lead me, O Zeus, and thou Destiny,15

and,

“If thus it be pleasing to the Gods, so may it be”—

wherefore, then, shall he not take heart to speak boldly to his brothers, to his children, in a word, to all his kin? For this reason, he that is in this state is no meddler or busybody, for when he overlooks human affairs he meddles not with foreign matters, but with his own affairs. Else, name the general a busybody when he overlooks his soldiers, and reviews them, and watches them, andpunishes the disorderly. But if you have a flat cake under your cloak while you reprove others, I say, get hence rather into a corner, and eat what thou hast stolen—what are other men’s concerns to thee? For what art thou—the bull of the herd? or the queen bee? Show me the tokens of thy supremacy, such as nature hath given her. But if thou art a drone claiming sovereignty over the bees, thinkest thou not that thy fellow-citizens will overthrow thee, as bees do the drones?

20. And truly the Cynic must be so long-suffering as that he shall seem to the multitude insensate and a stone. Him doth none revile, nor smite, nor insult; but his body hath he given to any man to use at will. For he remembers that the worse must needs be vanquished by the better, whereinsoever it is the worse; and the body is worse than the multitude—the weaker than the stronger. Never, then, doth he go down to any contest where it is possible for him to be vanquished, but he yields up all that is not his own, and contends for nothing that is subject to others. But where there is question of the will and the use of appearances, then you shall see how many eyes he hath, so that you may say that compared with him Argus was blind. Is his assent ever hasty; or his desire idle; or his pursuit in vain; or his avoidance unsuccessful; or his aim unfulfilled? doth he ever blame,or cringe, or envy? This is his great study and his design; but as regards all other things, he lies on his back and snores, for all is peace. There is no thief of his will, nor tyrant; but of his body? yea; and of his chattels? yea, and also of his authority and his honors. What, then, are these things to him? So when one may seek to make him afraid on account of them—Go hence, he saith to him,and find out little children; it is to these that masks are dreadful, but I know they are made of clay, and that inside them there is nothing.

21. On such a matter art thou now meditating. Therefore, if it please thee, in God’s name delay it yet awhile, and see first what ability thou hast for it. For mark what Hector speaks to Andromache:Go, he saith,rather into the house and weave—

“For war’s the careOf every man, and more than all of me.”—Il.vi. 490.

Thus he knew where lay his own ability and her incapacity.

1.Themaster-argument seems to start from propositions such as these:1There being a mutual contradiction among these three propositions—(1) “Every past event is necessarily true,” and (2) “An impossibility cannot follow a possibility,” and (3) “Things are possible which neither are nor will be true,” Diodorus, perceiving this contradiction, made use of the force of the first two in order to prove that nothing is possible which neither is nor will be true. And, again, one will hold these two, (3) that a thing is possible which neither is nor will be true, and (2) that an impossibility cannot follow from a possibility; but by no means that every past thing is necessarily true, and thus those of the school of Cleanthes appear to think, whom Antipater strongly defended. But some hold the other two, (3) that a thing is possible that neither is nor will be true, and (1) that every past event is necessarily true; but maintain that an impossibility mayfollow from a possibility. But all three it is impossible to hold at once, because of their mutual contradiction.

2. Now, if any one inquire of me,And which of these dost thou hold?I shall answer him that I do not know, but I have received this account, that Diodorus holds certain of them, and I think the followers of Panthoides and Cleanthes certain others, and those of Chrysippus yet others.And thyself?Nay, it is no affair of mine to try my own thoughts, and to compare and estimate statements, and to form some opinion of my own upon the matter.2And thus I differ no whit from the grammarians. Who was Hector’s father?Priam.And his brothers?Alexander and Deiphobus.And their mother, who was she?Hecuba. That is the account I have received.From whom?From Homer; and I think Hellanicus has written of them, and maybe others too.And I; what better have I to say about the master-argument? But if I am a vain man, and especially at a banquet, I shall amaze all the company by recounting those who have written on it;—for Chrysippus wrote on it wonderfully in his first book “On Possibilities;” and Cleanthes wrote a separate treatise on it, and so did Archedemus. And Antipater wrote too, not only in his book “On Possibilities,” but also separately in those on the master-argument. Have you not read the work? No! Thenread it. And what good will it do him to read it? He will become yet more of a babbler and a nuisance than he is now, for what else hath the reading of it done for you? What opinion have you formed for yourself on the matter? Nay, but you will tell us all about Helen, and Priam, and the island of Calypso, that never existed, nor ever will.

3. And in Homer, indeed, it is no great matter if you have simply mastered the account, and formed no opinion of your own. But in ethics this is even much more often the case than in other matters. Tell me concerning good and evil things! Listen to him, then, with his—

“Me to Ciconia brought the wind from Troy.”—Od.ix, 39.

Of things some are good, some evil, and some indifferent. Now the good things are the virtues, and those that have the nature of virtue, and the evil things the vices, and those that have the nature of vice; and the indifferent things3are between these, as wealth, health, life, death, pleasure, affliction.And how do you know this? Because Hellanicus affirms it in his history of the Egyptians; for as well say this as that Diogenes has it in his Ethics, or Chrysippus, or Cleanthes. But have you tested any of their sayings, and formed an opinion for yourself? Show me how you are wont to bear a storm at sea.Do you remember the difference between good and evil when the sail clatters, and some vexatious man comes to you as you are shrieking, and says—

——“Tell me, by the Gods, what you were lately saying, Is it any vice to be shipwrecked? Hath it anything of the nature of vice?”

Would you not lay hold of a stick and shake it in his face:Let us alone, man; we are perishing, and you come to mock us!And do you remember the difference if you are accused of something and Cæsar sends for you? If one should come to you when you enter, pale and trembling, and should say, “Why do you tremble, man? what is your business concerned with? Doth Cæsar there within dispense virtue and vice to those who go in to him?Why, you will say;must you too mock me in my calamities?

——“Nevertheless, tell me, O Philosopher, why you tremble—is it not merely death that you are in danger of, or imprisonment, or bodily suffering, or exile, or disgrace? What else? Is it any vice? or anything of the nature of vice?”

And you will reply somewhat to this effect:Let me alone, man; my own evils are enough for me.

And truly you say well, for your own evils are enough for you; which are meanness, cowardice, and your false pretenses when you sat in the school of philosophy.Why did you deck yourself in others’ glory? Why did you call yourself a Stoic?

4. Watch yourselves thus in the things that ye do, and ye shall see of what school ye are. And the most of you will be found Epicureans, but some few Peripatetics,4and those but slack. For where is the proof that ye hold virtue equal to all other things, or indeed superior? Show me a Stoic, if ye have one. Where or how can ye? But persons that repeat the phrases of Stoicism, of these ye can show us any number. And do they repeat those of the Epicureans any worse? and are they not equally accurate in the Peripatetic? Who is, then, a Stoic? As we say that a statue is Pheidian which is wrought according to the art of Pheidias, show me a man that is wrought according to the opinions he utters! Show me one that is sick and yet prosperous, in peril and prosperous, dying and prosperous, in exile and prosperous, in evil repute and prosperous. Show him to me! by the Gods! fain would I see a Stoic! And have ye none that is fully wrought out; then show me at least one that is in hand to be wrought—one that even leaneth towards these things. Do me this favor—grudge not an old man a sight that I have never seen yet. Think ye that I would have you show me the Zeus of Pheidias or the Athene—a work all ivory and gold? Nay; but let one show me a man’s soul that longs to be like-mindedwith God, and to blame neither Gods nor men, and not to fail in any effort or avoidance, and not to be wrathful nor envious, nor jealous, but—for why should I make rounds to say it?—that desires to become a God from a man, and in this body of ours, this corpse, is mindful of his fellowship with Zeus. Show me that man. But ye cannot! Why, then, will ye mock yourselves and cheat others? Why wrap yourselves in others’ garb, and go about, like thieves that steal clothes from the bath, with names and things that in nowise belong to you?

5. And now I am your teacher and ye are being taught by me. And I have this aim—to perfect you, that ye be unhindered, uncompelled, unembarrassed, free, prosperous, happy, looking unto God alone in all things great and small. And ye are here to learn these things, and to do them. And wherefore do ye not finish the work, if ye have indeed such an aim as behooves you, and if I, besides the aim, have such ability as behooves me? What is here lacking? When I see a carpenter, and the wood lying beside him, I look for some work. And now, here is the carpenter, here is the wood—what is yet lacking? Is the thing such as cannot be taught? It can. Is it, then, not in our power? Yea, this alone of all things is. Wealth is not in our power, nor health, nor repute, nor any other thing, save only the right use of appearances. This alone is bynature unhindered; this alone is unembarrassed. Wherefore, then, will ye not make an end? Tell me the reason. For either the fault lies in me, or in you, or in the nature of the thing. But the thing itself is possible, and indeed the only thing that is in our power. It remains that I am to blame, or else ye are; or, to speak more truly, both of us. What will ye, then? Let us at length begin to entertain such a purpose among us, and let the past be past. Only let us make a beginning: trust in me, and ye shall see.

1.Thisabove all is the task of Nature—to bind and harmonize together the force of the appearances of the Right and of the Useful.

2. Things are indifferent, but the uses of them are not indifferent. How, then, shall one preserve at once both a steadfast and tranquil mind, and also carefulness of things, that he be not heedless or slovenly? If he take the example of dice players. The numbers are indifferent, the dice are indifferent. How can I tell what may be thrown up? But carefully and skillfully to make use of what is thrown, that is wheremy proper business begins. And this is the great task of life also, to discern things and divide them, and say, “Outward things are not in my power; to will is in my power. Where shall I seek the Good, and where the Evil? Within me—in all that is my own.” But of all that is alien to thee call nothing good nor evil, nor profitable nor hurtful, nor any such term as these.

3. What then? should we be careless of such things? In no wise. For this, again, is a vice in the Will, and thus contrary to Nature. But be at once careful, because the use of things is not indifferent, and steadfast and tranquil because the things themselves are. For where there is aught that concerns me, there none can hinder or compel me; and in those things where I am hindered or compelled the attainment is not in my power, and is neither good nor evil; but my use of the event is either evil or good, and this is in my power. And hard it is, indeed, to mingle and reconcile together the carefulness of one whom outward things affect, with the steadfastness of him who regards them not. But impossible, it is not; and if it is, it is impossible to be happy.

4. Give me one man that cares how he shall do anything—that thinks not of the gaining of the thing, but thinks of his own energy.

5. Chrysippus, therefore, said well—“As long as future things are hidden from me, Ihold always by whatever state is the most favorable for gaining the things that are according to Nature; for God Himself gave it to me to make such choice. But if I knew that it were now ordained for me to be sick, I would even move to it of myself. For the foot, too, if it had intelligence, would move of itself to be mired.”

6. For to what end, think you, are ears of corn produced? Is it not that they may become dry and parched? And the reason they are parched, is it not that they may be reaped? for it is not to exist for themselves alone that they come into the world. If, then, they had perception would it be proper for them to pray that they should never be reaped? since never to be reaped is for ears of corn a curse. So understand that for men it is a curse not to die, just as not to be ripened and not to be reaped. But we, since we are both the things to be reaped and are also conscious that we shall be reaped, have indignation thereat. For we know not what we are, nor have we studied what concerns humanity as those that have the care of horses study what concerns them. But Chrysantas, when just about to smite the enemy, forbore on hearing the trumpet sounding his recall; so much better did it seem to him to obey the commander’s order than to do his own will. But of us not one will follow with docility the summons even of necessity, but weeping and groaning thethings that we suffer, we suffer, calling them our doom.1What doom, man? If by doom you mean that which is doomed to happen to us, then we are doomed in all things. But if only our afflictions are to be called doom, then what affliction is it that that which has come into being should perish? But we perish by the sword, or the wheel, or the sea, or the tile of a roof, or a tyrant. What matters it by what road thou goest down into Hades? they are all equal. But if thou wilt hear the truth, the way the tyrant sends thee is the shortest. Never did a tyrant cut a man’s throat in six months, but a fever will often be a year killing him. All these things are but noise, and a clatter of empty names.

7. But let us do as in setting out on a voyage. What is it possible for me to do? This—to choose the captain, crew, the day, the opportunity. Then a tempest has burst upon us; but what doth it concern me? I have left nothing undone that was mine to do; the problem is now another’s, to wit, the captain’s. But now the ship is sinking! and what have I to do? I do only what I am able—drown without terror and screaming and accusing of God, but knowing that that which has come into being must also perish. For I am no Immortal, but a man, a part of the sum of things as an hour is of the day. Like the hour, I must arrive, and, like the hour, pass away. What, then, canit matter to me how I pass away—whether by drowning or by a fever? for pass I must, even by some such thing. Now, this is what you shall see done by skillful ball-players. None careth for the ball as it were a thing good or bad; but only about throwing it and catching it. In this, then, there is rule, in this art, quickness, judgment: so that I may fail of catching the ball, even if I spread out my lap, and another, if I throw it, may catch it. But if I am anxious and nervous as I catch and throw, what kind of play is this? how shall one be steady? how shall he observe the order of the game? One will call “Throw,” “Do not throw,” and another, “You have thrown once.” But this is strife and not play.

8. Thus Socrates knew how to play ball. How? When he jested in the court of justice. “Tell me, Anytus,” he said, “how say you that I believe there is no God? The Dæmons, who are they, think you? Are they not sons of God, or a mixed nature between Gods and men?” And when this was admitted—“Who, do you think, can hold that mules exist, but not asses?”2And thus he played with the ball. And what was the ball that was there thrown about among them? Life, chains, exile, a draught of poison, to be torn from a wife, to leave children orphans. These were the things among them that they played withal; yet none the less did he play, and flung the ball withproper grace and measure. And so should we do also, having the carefulness of the most zealous players, and yet indifference, as were it merely about a ball.

1.Eachthing that allures the mind or offers an advantage or is loved by you, remember to speak of it as it is, from the smallest things upward. If you love an earthen jar, then think,I love an earthen jar, for so shall you not be troubled when it breaks. And when you kiss your little child, or wife, think,I kiss a mortal; and so shall you not be troubled when they die.

2. When you are about to take in hand some action, bethink you what it is that you are about to do. If you go to the bath, represent to yourself all that takes place there—the squirting of water, the slapping, the scolding, the pilfering; and then shall you take the matter in hand more safely, saying straightway:I desire to be bathed, and maintain my purpose according to Nature.And even so with each and every action. For thus, if aught should occur to cross you in your bathing, this thought shall be straightway at hand:But not this alone did I desire; but also to maintain my purpose according toNature. And I shall not maintain it if I have indignation at what happens here.

3. The first difference between the vulgar man and the philosopher: The one saith,Woe is me for my child, my brother, woe for my father; but the other, if ever he shall be compelled to say,Woe is me, checks himself, and saith,for myself. For nothing that the Will willeth not can hinder or hurt the Will, but itself only can hurt itself. If then, indeed, we too incline to this, that when we are afflicted we accuse ourselves, and recollect that nothing else than Opinion can cause us any trouble or unsettlement, I swear by all the Gods we have advanced! But as it is, we have from the beginning traveled a different road. While we are still children, if haply we stumbled as we were gaping about, the nurse did not chide us, but beat the stone. For what had the stone done? Ought it to have moved out of the way for your child’s folly? Again, if we find nothing to eat after coming from the bath, never doth the tutor check our desire, but he beats the cook. Man, we did not set thee to be a tutor of the cook, but of our child—him shall you train, him improve. And thus, even when full-grown, we appear as children. For a child in music is he who hath not learned music, and in letters, one who hath not learned letters, and in life, one undisciplined in philosophy.

4. It is not things, but the opinions about the things, that trouble mankind. Thus Death is nothing terrible; if it were so, it would have appeared so to Socrates. But the opinion we have about Death, that it is terrible,thatit is wherein the terror lieth. When, therefore, we are hindered or troubled or grieved, never let us blame any other than ourselves; that is to say, our opinions. A man undisciplined in philosophy blames others in matters in which he fares ill; one who begins to be disciplined blames himself, one who is disciplined, neither others nor himself.

5. Be not elated in mind at any superiority that is not of yourself. If your horse were elated and should say,I am beautiful, that would be tolerable. But when you are elated and say,I have a beautiful horse, know that it is at an excellence in your horse that you are elated. What, then, is your own? This—to make use of the appearances. So that when you deal according to Nature in the use of appearances, then shall you be elated, for you will then be elated at an excellence that is your own.

1.Thereare three divisions of Philosophy wherein a man must exercise himself who would be wise and good.1

The first concerns his pursuit and avoidance, so that he may not fail of aught that he would attain, nor fall into aught that he would avoid.

The second concerns his desires and aversions, and, generally, all that it becomes a man to be, so that he bear himself orderly and prudently and not heedlessly.

The third is that which concerns security from delusion and hasty apprehension, and, generally, the assenting to appearances.

Of these the chief and most urgent is that which hath to do with the passions,2for the passions arise in no other way than by our failing in endeavor to attain or to avoid something. This it is which brings in troubles and tumults and ill-luck and misfortune, that is the cause of griefs and lamentations and envies, that makes envious and jealous men; by which things we become unable even to hear the doctrines of reason.

The second concerns that which is becoming to a man; for I must not be passionless,2like a statue, but maintain all relations natural and acquired, as a religious being, as a son, as a brother, as a father, as a citizen.

The third is that which concerns men as soon as they are making advance in philosophy, which provides for the security of the two others; so that not even in dreams may any appearance that approacheth us pass untested, nor in wine, nor in ill-humors. This, a man may say, is beyond us. But the philosophers of this day, passing by the first and second parts of philosophy, occupy themselves in the third, caviling, and arguing by questions, and constructing hypotheses and fallacies. For, they say, when dealing with these subjects a man must guard himself from delusion. Who must? The wise and good man.

2. And this security is all you lack, then; the rest you have wrought out already? You are not to be imposed upon by money? and if you see a fair girl you can hold out against the appearance? and if your neighbor inherits a legacy you are not envious? there is now, in short, nothing lacking to you except to confirm what you have? Wretch! these very things dost thou hear in fear and anxiety lest some one may despise thee, and inquiring what men say about thee. And if some one come and tell you that when it was discussed who was the best of the philosophers, one present said,Such aone is the greatest philosopher, your little soul will grow up from a finger’s breadth to two cubits. And if another who was present said,Nothing of the kind; it is not worth while to listen to him; for what does he know? he has made a beginning in philosophy and no more, you are amazed, you grow pale, and straightway you cry out,I will show him who I am, that I am a great philosopher.

Out of these very things it is seen what you are; why do you desire to show it by any others?

1.Tosome it may perchance seem a paradox, this axiom of the philosophers; yet let us make the best inquiry we can if it be true that it is possible to do all things at once with fearfulness and with boldness. For fearfulness seemeth in a manner contrary to boldness, and contraries can never co-exist. But that which to many seemeth a paradox in this matter seems to me to stand somehow thus: If we affirmed that both fearfulness and boldness could be used in the very same things, they would justly accuse us that we were reconciling what is irreconcilable. But now, what is there so strange in this saying? For if it is sound, what hath beenso often both affirmed and demonstrated, that the essence of the Good is in the use of appearances, and even so of the Evil, and things uncontrollable by the Will have the nature neither of good nor of evil, what paradox do the philosophers affirm if they say that in things uncontrollable by the Will, then be boldness thy part, and in things subject to the Will, fearfulness. For if Evil lie in an evil Will, then in these things alone is it right to use fearfulness. And if things uncontrollable by the Will, and that are not in our power, are nothing to us, then in these things we should use boldness. And thus shall we be at one time both fearful and bold—yea, and bold even through our fearfulness. For through being fearful in things that are veritably evil it comes that we shall be bold in those that are not so.

2. But we, on the contrary, fall victims as deer do. When these are terrified and fly from the scares, whither do they turn and to what do they retreat as a refuge? To the nets: and thus they perish, confusing things to fear and things to be bold about. And thus do we also. Where do we employ fear? In things beyond our Will. And wherein do we act boldly, as were there nothing to dread? In things subject to the Will. To be beguiled, then, or to be rash, or to do some shameless act, or with base greed to pursue some object—these things concern us no whit if we may only hit the mark inthings beyond the Will. But where death is, or exile, or suffering, or evil repute, there we run away, there we are scared. Therefore, as it were to be looked for in those who are astray in the things of greatest moment, we work out our natural boldness into swaggering, abandonment, rashness, shamelessness; and our natural fearfulness and shamefastness into cowardice and meanness, full of terror and trouble. For if one should transfer his fearfulness to the realm of the Will, and the works thereof, straightway, together with the intention of fearing to do wrong, he shall have it in his power to avoid doing it; but if he use it in things out of our own power and beyond the Will, then striving to avoid things that are in others’ power, he shall of necessity be terrified and unsettled and troubled. For death is not fearful, nor pain, but the fear of pain or death. And thus we praise him1who said:

“Fear not to die, but fear a coward’s death.”

3. It is right, then, that we should turn our boldness against death, and our fearfulness against the fear of death. But now we do the contrary: death we flee from, but as to the state of our opinion about death we are negligent, heedless, indifferent. These things Socrates did well to call bugbears. For as to children, through their inexperience, ugly masks appear terrible and fearful; so we are somewhat in the same way moved towards the affairs of life, for no other cause than as children are affected by these bugbears. For what is a child? Ignorance. What is a child? That which has never learned. For when he knows these things he is nowise inferior to us. What is death? A bugbear. Turn it round; examine it: see, it does not bite. Now or later that which is body must be parted from that which is spirit, as formerly it was parted. Why, then, hast thou indignation if it be now? for if it be not now, it will be later. And wherefore? That the cycle of the world may be fulfilled; for it hath need of a present and of a future and of a past. What is pain? A bugbear. Turn it about and examine it. This poor body is moved harshly, then again softly. If thou hast no advantage thereof, the door is open;2if thou hast, then bear it. For in all events it is right that the door should stand open, and so have we no distress.

4. Shall I, then, exist no longer? Nay, thou shalt exist, but as something else, whereof the universe hath now need.3For neither didst thou choose thine own time to come into existence, but when the universe had need of thee.

5. What, then, is the fruit of these opinions? That which ought to be the fairest and comeliest to those who have been trulytaught,—tranquillity, courage, and freedom. For concerning these things, the multitude are not to be believed which say that those only should be taught who are freemen, but the philosophers rather, which say that those only are free who have been taught. How is this? It is thus—Is freedom anything else than the power to live as we choose?Nothing else.Do ye choose, then, to live in sin?We do not choose it.None, therefore, that fears or grieves or is anxious is free; but whosoever is released from griefs and fears and anxieties is by that very thing released from slavery. How, then, shall we still believe you, most excellent legislators, when ye say, “We permit none to be taught, save freemen?”4for the philosophers say, “We permit none to be free save those who have been taught”—that is, God permits it not.So, when a man turns round his slave before the Prætor,5has he done nothing?He has done something.And what?He has turned round his slave before the Prætor.Nothing else at all?Yea, this too—he must pay for him the tax of the twentieth.What then? has the man thus treated not gained his freedom?No more than he has gained tranquillity of mind. For thou, who art able to emancipate others, hast thou no master? is money not thy master, or lust, or a tyrant, or some friend of a tyrant? Why, then, dost thou tremble when thou art to meet with someaffliction in this kind? And therefore I say oftentimes, be these things your study, be these things ever at your hand, wherein ye should be bold and wherein fearful; bold in things beyond the Will, fearful in things subject to the Will.

1.Theappearances by which the mind of man is smitten with the first aspect of a thing as it approaches the soul, are not matters of the will, nor can we control them; but by a certain force of their own the objects which we have to comprehend are borne in upon us. But that ratification of them, which we name assent, whereby the appearances are comprehended and judged, these are voluntary, and are done by human choice. Wherefore at a sound from the heavens, or from the downfall of something, or some signal of danger, or anything else of this kind, it must needs be that the soul of the philosopher too shall be somewhat moved, and he shall shrink and grow pale; not through any opinion of evil that he has formed, but through certain rapid and unconsidered motions that forestall the office of the mind and reason. Soon, however, that philosopher doth not approve the appearances to be truly objects of terror to his soul, that is to say, he assents not to them nor ratifies them; but he rejects them, and casts them out; nor doth there seem to be in them anything that he should fear. But in this, say the philosophers, doth the wise man differ from the fool,—that the fool thinks the appearances to be in truth even so harsh and rough as they seemed at their first shock upon the soul; and taking them, as at first, to be rightly dreaded, he thus ratifies and approves them by his assent. The philosopher, however, though for a short time his color and countenance have been changed, doth not then assent, but he retains in its steadfastness and vigor the opinion he ever had of these appearances, that they are in no wise to be feared, but affright only by a false show and empty threat.

2. Such as is a dish of water, such is the soul; such as is the ray of light that falleth on the same, such are the appearances. When the water is moved, then the ray seemeth also to be moved; but it is not moved. And thus when a man’s mind is darkened and dizzy, it is not doctrines and virtues that are confounded, but the spirit on which they are impressed. And if that is restored, so are they.2

1.Appearancesexist for us in four ways. Either things appear even as they are; or having no existence, neither do they appear to have it; or they exist, and appear not; or they exist not, and yet appear. So, in all these cases, to hit the mark is the work of him who hath been taught in philosophy.

2. But whatever it be that afflicts us, it is to that thing that the remedy is to be applied. If it is the sophisms of the Pyrrhonists and Academics1that afflict us, to them let us apply the remedy. If it is the delusiveness of things, whereby that appeareth to be good which is not so, to that let us seek for the remedy. If a habit afflicts us, against that must we endeavor to find some remedy. And what remedy is to be found against a habit? The contrary habit. Thou hearest the ignorant when they say,The wretched man is dead; his father is perishing with grief for him, or his mother; he was cut off, yea, and untimely, and in a strange land. Hearken, then, to the contrary words. Tear thyself away from such utterances. Against habit set the contrary habit. Against the words of the Sophists have the maxims ofphilosophers and the exercise and constant usage of them; against the delusiveness of things have clear natural conceptions ever burnished and ready.

3. Whenever death may appear to be an evil, have ready the thought that it is right to avoid evils, and that death is unavoidable. For what shall I do? whither shall I flee from it? Let it be granted that I am no Sarpedon, son of Zeus, to speak in that lofty style:I go either to do great deeds myself, or to give another the chance of doing them; though I myself fail I shall not grudge it to another to do nobly.2Let it be granted that this is above us; still can we not at least rise to the height of that? And whither shall I flee from death? declare to me the place; declare to me the men among whom I shall go, to whom death comes never near; declare to me the charms against it. If I have none, what would ye have me do? I cannot escape death—shall I not then escape the fear of death? shall I die lamenting and trembling? In this is the source of suffering, to wish for something, and that it should not come to pass; and thence it is that when I am able to alter outward things at my desire, I do so, but when not, I am ready to tear out the eyes of him that hindereth me. For man is so made by nature that he will not bear to be deprived of the Good nor to fall into the Evil. And in the end, when I am neither able to alter outward things norto tear out the eyes of him that hindereth me, I sit down and groan and rail on whomsoever I can, Zeus and the other Gods;—for if they neglect me, what have I to do with them?Yea, but thou wilt be an impious man.And how shall I be worse off than I am now? Here is the whole matter: Remember that unless religion and profit meet in the same thing, religion cannot be saved in any man. Do not these things mightily convince of their truth?

4. Let the Pyrrhonist and the Academic come and make their attack—I, for my part, have no leisure for such discussions, nor am I able to argue in defense of general consent.3For if I had a suit about a little piece of land, would I not call in another to argue for me? Wherewith shall I be satisfied? With that which concerns the matter in hand. How perception takes place, whether by the whole man or by parts, perhaps I know not how to declare: both opinions perplex me. But that thou and I are not the same I know very clearly.Whence know you this?Never, when I wish to eat, do I carry the morsel to another man’s mouth, but to my own. Never, when I wish to take a piece of bread, do I lay hold of a broom, but I always go to the bread, as to a mark. And ye who deny the truth of perception, what do ye other than I? Which of you, desiring to go to the bath, ever went into a mill?What then? Ought we not,according to our abilities, to busy ourselves with the upholding of general consent, and raising defenses against all that opposeth the same?And who denies it? But let him do it that can, that hath leisure; but he that trembleth, and is troubled, and his heart is broken within him, let him spend his time on something different.

1.Ifthose things are true which are said by philosophers concerning the kinship of God and men, what else remains for men to do than after Socrates’ way, who never, when men inquired of him what was his native country, repliedAthensorCorinth, butthe universe. For why wilt thou say thou art an Athenian, and not rather name thyself from that nook alone into which thy wretched body was cast at birth? Is it not plainly from the lordlier place, and that which contains not only that nook and all thy household, but also the whole land whence the race of thy ancestors has come down even to thee, that thou callest thyself Athenian or Corinthian? Whoso, therefore, hath watched the governance of the universe, and hath learned that the greatest and mightiest and amplest of all societies is thatwhich is composed of mankind and of God; and that from Him have descended the seeds not only to my father alone, nor to my grandfather, but to all creatures that are conceived and born upon the earth (but especially to reasoning beings, since to these alone hath nature given it to have communion and intercourse with God, being linked with Him through Reason),—wherefore should such a one not name himself a citizen of the universe? wherefore not a son of God? wherefore shall he fear anything that may come to pass among men? And shall kinship with Cæsar, or with some other of those that are mighty at Rome, be enough to let us live in safety and undespised and fearing nothing at all; but to have God for our maker and father and guardian, shall this not avail to deliver us from griefs and fears?

But I have no money, saith one;whence shall I have bread to eat?

2. Art thou not ashamed to be more cowardly and spiritless than fugitive slaves are? How do they leave their masters when they run away? in what estates do they put their trust? in what servants? After stealing a little to serve them for the first few days, do they not afterwards journey by land and sea, and make their living by one device after another? And when did ever any fugitive slave die of hunger? But thou tremblest and sleepestnot of nights, for fear lest the necessaries of life fail thee. Wretched man! art thou thus blind? and seest not the road whither the want of necessaries leads a man? And whither leads it? To the same place that a fever doth, or a falling rock—to death. Hast thou not often said this to thy friends? and often read aloud these things, and written them? and how often hast thou vaunted thyself that thou wert at peace about death?Yea, but my dear ones shall also suffer hunger.What then? Doth their hunger lead to any other place than thine? Do they not descend where thou descendest? Is there not one underworld for them and thee? Wilt thou not, then, be bold in all poverty and need, looking to that place whither the wealthiest of men, and the mightiest governors, yea, and even kings and tyrants, must go down; thou, it may be, an-hungered, and they bursting with indigestion and drunkenness?

How seldom is it that a beggar is seen that is not an old man, and even of exceeding age? but freezing by night and day, and lying on the ground, and eating only what is barely necessary, they come near to being unable to die. Canst thou not transcribe writings? canst thou not teach children? or be some man’s door-keeper?

But it is shameful to come to such a necessity!

Then first of all learn what things areshameful, and afterwards tell us thou art a philosopher. But at present suffer not even another man to call thee so.

3. Is that shameful to thee which is not thine own doing, whereof thou art not the cause, which cometh to thee without thy will, like a headache or a fever? If thy parents were poor, or made others their heirs, or are alive and give thee nothing, are these things shameful to thee? Is this what thou hast learnt from the philosophers? Hast thou never heard that what is shameful is blamable; and that which is blamable ought to be blamed? But what man wilt thou blame for a work not his own, one that he himself never did! And didst thou make thy father such as he is? or was it in thy power to correct him?—is it given thee to do this? What then? Oughtest thou to desire what is not given to thee? or to be ashamed if thou attain it not? Or hast thou been accustomed, in philosophy, to look to others, and to hope for nothing from thyself? Lament, therefore, and groan, and eat thy bread in fear, lest thou have nothing to eat on the morrow. Tremble for thy slaves, lest they steal, or run away, or die. Do thou live thus, now and ever, who hast approached to the name only of philosophy, and hast brought the precepts of it to shame, so far as in thee lies, showing them to be worthless and useless to those who adopt them; thou, who hast never striven to gainsteadfastness, tranquillity, peace; that never waited upon any man for the sake of these things, but upon many for the sake of learning syllogisms; that never tested for thine own self any one of these appearances:—Am I able to bear it, or am I not able? What, then, remains for me to do?But, as though all went fairly and safely with thee, thou abidest in the final part of philosophy,1that which confirms beyond all change—and wherein wilt thou be confirmed? in cowardice, meanness, admiration of wealth, in vain pursuit, and vain efforts to avoid? These are the things thou dost meditate how to preserve unharmed.

4. Shouldst thou not first have gained something from Reason, and then fortified this with safety? Whom sawest thou ever building a coping round about, and never a wall on which to place it? And what door-keeper is set on guard where there is no door? But thy study is how to prove propositions—andwhatproposition? How the billows of false reasonings may sweep thee not away—and away fromwhat? Show me first what thing thou art guarding, or measuring, or weighing; and afterwards the scales or the measuring-rod. Or how long wilt thou still be measuring the dust? Are not these the things it behooves thee to prove:—what it is that makes men happy, what makes things proceed as we would have them, how one should blame no manaccuse no man, and fit one’s self to the ordering of the All? Yea, prove me these!But I do so, he saith.See! I resolve you syllogisms.Slave! this is the measuring-rod—it is not the thing measured. Wherefore now you pay the penalty for philosophy neglected; you tremble, you lie awake at nights, you seek counsel on every hand, and if the counsels are not pleasing to all men you think they were ill-counseled.

5. Then you fear hunger, as you suppose. But it is not hunger that you fear—you fear you will have no cook, nor nobody else to buy victuals for you, nor another to take off your boots, nor another to put them on, nor others to rub you down, nor others to follow you about, so that when you have stripped yourself in the bath, and stretched yourself out as if you were crucified, you may be rubbed to and fro, and then the rubber standing by may say,Turn him round, give me his side, take hold of his head, let me have his shoulder; and then when you leave the bath and go home you may shout,Is no one bringing anything to eat?and then,Take away the plates, and wipe them. This is what you fear,—lest you be not able to live like a sick man. But learn how those live that are in health—slaves, and laborers, and true philosophers; how Socrates lived, who moreover had a wife and children; how Diogenes lived; how Cleanthes that studied in the schools and drew his own water.2If you would have these things, they are everywhere to be had, and you will live boldly. Bold in what? In that wherein alone it is possible to be bold—in that which is faithful, which cannot be hindered, which cannot be taken away. But why hast thou made thyself so worthless and useless that no one is willing to receive thee into his house or take care of thee? But if any utensil were thrown away, and it was sound and serviceable, every one that found it would pick it up and think it a gain; but thee no man would pick up, nor count anything but damage. So thou canst not so much as serve the purpose of a watch-dog, or a cock? Why, then, wilt thou still live, being such a man as thou art?

6. Doth any good man fear lest the means of gaining food fail him? They fail not the blind, nor the lame; shall they fail a good man? To the good soldier there fails not one who gives him pay, nor to the laborer, nor to the shoemaker; and shall such a one fail to the good man? Is God, then, careless of His instruments, His servants, His witnesses, whom alone He useth to show forth to the untaught what He is, and that He governs all things well, and is not careless of human things? and that to a good man there is no evil, neither in life nor in death?How, then, when He leaves them without food?How else is this than as when a good general gives me the signal for retreat?I obey, I follow, praising my leader and hymning his works. For I came when it pleased him, and when it pleases him I will go. In my lifetime also my work was to sing the praise of God, both alone to myself, and to single persons, and in presence of many. He doth not provide me with many things, nor with great abundance of goods; He will not have me live delicately. For neither did He provide so for Hercules, His own son, but another man reigned over Argos and Mycenæ, while he obeyed and labored and was disciplined. And Eurystheus was what he was—no king of Argos and Mycenæ, who was not king even of himself; and Hercules was lord and leader of all the earth and sea, for he purged them of lawlessness and wrong, and brought in righteousness and holiness; naked and alone did he this. And when Odysseus was shipwrecked and cast away, did his need humble him one whit or break his spirit? But how did he go out to the maidens, to beg for the necessaries of life, which it is held most shameful to seek from another?

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