Against Those Who Go Home When Sick

I am sick here, said one of the pupils, and I wish to return home.—At home, I suppose, you were free from sickness. Do you not consider whether you are doing any thing here which may be useful to the exercise of your will, that it may be corrected? For if you are doing nothing towards this end, it was to no purpose that you came. Go away. Look after your affairs at home. For if your ruling power cannot be maintained in a state conformable to nature, it is possible that your land can, that you will be able to increase your money, you will take care of your father in his old age, frequent the public place, hold magisterial office: being bad you will do badly any thing else that you have to do. But if you understand yourself, and know that you are casting away certain bad opinions and adopting others in their place, and if you have changed your state of life from things which are not within your will to things which are within your will, and if you ever say, Alas! you are not saying what you say on account of your father, or your brother, but on account of yourself, do you still allege your sickness? Do you not know that both disease and death must surprise us while we are doing something? the husbandman while he is tilling the ground, the sailor while he is on his voyage? what would you be doing when death surprises you, for you must be surprised when you are doing something? If you can be doing anything better than this when you are surprised, do it. For I wish to be surprised by disease or death when I am looking after nothing else than my own will, that I may be free from perturbation, that I may be free from hindrance, free from compulsion, and in a state of liberty. I wish to be found practising these things that I may be able to say to God, Have I in any respect transgressed thy commands? have I in any respect wrongly used the powers which thou gavest me? have I misused my perceptions or my preconceptions (προλήψεσι)?⁴⁶³ have I ever blamed thee? have I ever found fault with thy administration? I have been sick, because it was thy will, and so have others, but I was content to be sick. I have been poor because it was thy will, but I was content also. I have not filled a magisterial office, because it was not thy pleasure that I should: I have never desired it. Hast thou ever seen me for this reason discontented? have I not always approached thee with a cheerful countenance, ready to do thy commands and to obey thy signals? Is it now thy will that I should depart from the assemblage of men? I depart. I give thee all thanks that thou hast allowed me to join in this thy assemblage of men and to see thy works, and to comprehend this thy administration. May death surprise me while I am thinking of these things, while I am thus writing and reading.

“I am sick here,” said one of the pupils, “and I want to go home.” At home, I suppose, you never got sick. Have you considered whether you are doing anything useful here to train and improve your will? If you are doing nothing toward that end, you came for nothing. Go away. Look after your affairs at home. If you cannot keep your ruling power in harmony with nature, perhaps you can keep your land in good order. You may be able to increase your money, care for your father in his old age, frequent the public square, and hold public office. But if you are bad, you will do badly at anything else you have to do. But perhaps you understand yourself. Perhaps you know that you are casting away certain bad opinions and adopting others in their place. Perhaps you have shifted your way of life from things outside your will to things within it. And perhaps, when you say, “Alas!” you say it on your own account, not your father’s or your brother’s. If so, do you still complain about your sickness? Don’t you know that both disease and death must catch us while we are doing something? They catch the farmer tilling the ground and the sailor on a voyage. What would you want to be doing when death catches you? It must catch you doing something. If you can be doing anything better than this when it catches you, do it. I want disease or death to catch me while I am attending to nothing but my own will. I want to be free from disturbance, hindrance, and compulsion. I want to be free. I want to be found practicing these things so that I can say to God: “Have I disobeyed your commands in any way? Have I used the powers you gave me wrongly in any way? Have I misused my perceptions or my preconceptions (προλήψεσι)?⁴⁶³ Have I ever blamed you? Have I ever found fault with the way you govern the world? I have been sick because it was your will, as others have been too, but I was content to be sick. I have been poor because it was your will, but I was content with that too. I have not held public office because it did not please you for me to do so. I have never desired it. Have you ever seen me discontented for that reason? Have I not always come to you with a cheerful face, ready to follow your commands and obey your signals? Is it now your will that I leave the gathering of human beings? I am leaving. I give you all thanks for allowing me to join this gathering of yours, to see your works, and to understand how you govern the world.” May death catch me while I am thinking about these things, while I am writing and reading in this way.

But my mother will not hold my head when I am sick. Go to your mother then; for you are a fit person to have your head held when you are sick.—But at home I used to lie down on a delicious bed.—Go away to your bed: indeed you are fit to lie on such a bed even when you are in health: do not then lose what you can do there (at home).

But my mother won’t hold my head when I’m sick. Then go to your mother. You’re just the sort of person who needs his head held when he’s sick. But at home I used to sleep in a luxurious bed. Go back to your bed. You’re just the sort of person who belongs in a bed like that, even when you’re healthy. So don’t miss out on what you can do there at home.

But what does Socrates say?⁴⁶⁴ As one man, he says, is pleased with improving his land, another with improving his horse, so I am daily pleased in observing that I am growing better. Better in what? in using nice little words? Man, do not say that. In little matters of speculation (θεωρήματα)? what are you saying?—And indeed I do not see what else there is on which philosophers employ their time.—Does it seem nothing to you to have never found fault with any person, neither with God nor man? to have blamed nobody? to carry the same face always in going out and coming in? This is what Socrates knew, and yet he never said that he knew any thing or taught any thing.⁴⁶⁵ But if any man asked for nice little words or little speculations, he would carry him to Protagoras or to Hippias; and if any man came to ask for potherbs, he would carry him to the gardener. Who then among you 'has this purpose (motive to action)? for if indeed you had it, you would both be content in sickness, and in hunger, and in death. If any among you has been in love with a charming girl, he knows that I say what is true.⁴⁶⁶

But what does Socrates say?⁴⁶⁴ One man takes pleasure in improving his land, and another in improving his horse. In the same way, Socrates says, he takes pleasure each day in seeing himself grow better. Better at what? At using clever little words? Man, don't say that. At little theories (θεωρήματα)? What are you saying? Yet I don't see what else philosophers spend their time on. Does it seem like nothing to you never to find fault with anyone, neither God nor man? To blame no one? To wear the same expression whenever you go out or come in? This is what Socrates knew, yet he never said he knew or taught anything.⁴⁶⁵ If anyone asked for clever little words or little theories, he would take him to Protagoras or Hippias. If anyone came asking for vegetables, he would take him to the gardener. Which of you, then, has this purpose? If you really had it, you would be content in sickness, in hunger, and in death. If any of you has been in love with a charming girl, he knows I am telling the truth.⁴⁶⁶