Book 3, Chapter 15

We Should Approach Everything With Caution.[519]

3 min

In every act consider what precedes and what follows, and then proceed to the act. If you do not consider, you will at first begin with spirit, since you have not thought at all of the things which follow; but afterwards when some consequences have shown themselves, you will basely desist (from that which you have begun).—I wish to conquer at the Olympic games.—[And I too, by the gods: for it is a fine thing]. But consider here what precedes and what follows; and then, if it is for your good, undertake the thing. You must act according to rules, follow strict diet, abstain from delicacies, exercise yourself by compulsion at fixed times, in heat, in cold; drink no cold water, nor wine, when there is opportunity of drinking it. In a word you must surrender yourself to the trainer, as you do to a physician. Next in the contest, you must be covered with sand, sometimes dislocate a hand, sprain an ankle, swallow a quantity of dust, be scourged with the whip; and after undergoing all this, you must sometimes be conquered. After reckoning all these things, if you have still an inclination, go to the athletic practice. If you do not reckon them, observe you will behave like children who at one time play as wrestlers, then as gladiators, then blow a trumpet, then act a tragedy, when they have seen and admired such things. So you also do: you are at one time a wrestler (athlete), then a gladiator, then a philosopher, then a rhetorician; but with your whole soul you are nothing: like the ape you imitate all that you see; and always one thing after another pleases you, but that which becomes familiar displeases you. For you have never undertaken any thing after consideration, nor after having explored the whole matter and put it to a strict examination; but you have undertaken it at hazard and with a cold desire. Thus some persons having seen a philosopher and having heard one speak like Euphrates—and yet who can speak like him?—wish to be philosophers themselves.

Before every action, consider what comes before and after it. Only then should you act. If you do not consider these things, you will begin enthusiastically because you have given no thought to the consequences. But when some consequences appear, you will shamefully abandon what you began. “I want to win at the Olympic games.” [By the gods, so do I, for it is a fine thing.] But consider what comes before and after that victory. Then, if it is good for you, take it on. You must follow the rules, keep a strict diet, and give up delicacies. You must make yourself exercise at set times, in heat and cold. You must drink no cold water or wine, even when you have the chance. In short, you must submit to the trainer as you would to a physician. Then, in the contest, you must be covered with sand. You must sometimes dislocate a hand, sprain an ankle, swallow a great deal of dust, and be whipped. After going through all this, you must sometimes face defeat. If you still want to compete after considering all this, begin your athletic training. If you do not consider these things, you will behave like children. After seeing and admiring wrestlers, gladiators, trumpeters, or actors in a tragedy, they imitate them. First they play at wrestling, then at being gladiators, then they blow a trumpet, and then they act a tragedy. You do the same. At one moment you are a wrestler, then a gladiator, then a philosopher, then a rhetorician. But you are nothing with your whole soul. Like an ape, you imitate everything you see. One thing after another pleases you, but whatever becomes familiar displeases you. For you have never undertaken anything after careful thought or a thorough, searching examination. Instead, you have taken things up at random and with only a weak desire. So some people see a philosopher and hear someone speak like Euphrates. Yet who can speak like him? After that, they want to be philosophers themselves.

The commentators refer us to Paul, 1 Cor. c. 9, 25. Compare Horace, Ars Poetica, 39:

Wolf thought the word παρορύσσεσθαι might mean the loss of an eye. But other commentators interpret the word differently. See Schweigh.'s note.

The Encheiridion 29 had 'Socrates' in place of Euphrates. Recent editors of the Encheiridion changed the name to 'Euphrates,' correctly. The younger Pliny (i. Ep. 10) praises the merits and engaging eloquence of this Syrian philosopher, Euphrates. M. Antoninus (x. 31) and others also mention him.

Compare Encheiridion 29. Mrs. Carter writes: "This chapter has a great conformity to Luke xiv. 28 etc. But it is to be observed that Epictetus, both here and elsewhere, supposes some persons incapable of being philosophers; that is, virtuous and pious men but Christianity requires and enables all to be such." The passage in Luke teaches a practical lesson, and in that respect it agrees with Epictetus’s teaching. But the conclusion in v. 33 does not seem to follow from the preceding verses, 28 to 32. Mrs. Carter’s claim that Christianity 'enables all to be such' is not true, unless she means something by 'enables' that I do not see.

Man, consider first what the matter is (which you propose to do), then your own nature also, what it is able to bear. If you are a wrestler, look at your shoulders, your thighs, your loins: for different men are naturally formed for different things. Do you think that, if you do (what you are doing daily), you can be a philosopher? Do you think that you can eat as you do now, drink as you do now, and in the same way be angry and out of humour? You must watch, labour, conquer certain desires, you must depart from your kinsmen, be despised by your slave, laughed at by those who meet you, in every thing you must be in an inferior condition, as to magisterial office, in honours, in courts of justice. When you have considered all these things completely, then, if you think proper, approach to philosophy, if you would gain in exchange for these things freedom from perturbations, liberty, tranquillity. If you have not considered these things, do not approach philosophy: do not act like children, at one time a philosopher, then a tax collector, then a rhetorician, then a procurator (officer) of Caesar. These things are not consistent. You must be one man either good or bad: you must either labour at your own ruling faculty or at external things: you must either labour at things within or at external things: that is, you must either occupy the place of a philosopher or that of one of the vulgar.

First, consider what you propose to do. Then consider your own nature and what you can bear. If you are a wrestler, look at your shoulders, thighs, and hips. Different people are naturally suited to different things. Do you think you can become a philosopher while living as you do every day? Can you eat and drink as you do now and still get angry and bad-tempered as you do now? You must stay alert, work hard, and overcome certain desires. You must leave your relatives, be despised by your slave, and be laughed at by people you meet. You must accept a lower position in everything, whether in public office, honors, or courts of justice. Once you have fully considered all this, take up philosophy if you think it right. Do so if you want freedom from disturbance, liberty, and peace of mind in exchange for these sacrifices. If you have not considered all this, do not take up philosophy. Do not behave like children, playing a philosopher one moment, then a tax collector, then a public speaker, then an officer of Caesar. These roles do not fit together. You must be one person, either good or bad. You must work either on your own power to govern yourself or on external things. You must work either on what is within you or on what is outside you. In other words, you must take the place either of a philosopher or of an ordinary person.

A person said to Rufus when Galba was murdered, Is the world now governed by Providence? But Rufus replied, Did I ever incidentally form an argument from Galba that the world is governed by Providence?

When Galba was murdered, someone asked Rufus, “Is the world still governed by Providence?” But Rufus replied, “Did I ever argue that the world was governed by Providence because of Galba?”

Rufus was a philosopher. See i. 1, i. 9. Galba is the emperor Galba, who was murdered. The passage’s meaning is rather unclear. It is evident that it does not belong in this chapter. Lord Shaftesbury notes that it perhaps belongs in chapter 11 or 14, or perhaps at the end of chapter 17.

Versate diu quid ferre recusent, Quid valeant humeri.

Consider carefully what your shoulders can bear and what they cannot.