Book 4, Chapter 10
What We Should Despise and Value
The difficulties of all men are about external things, their helplessness is, about externals. What shall I do, how will it be, how will it turn out, will this happen, will that? All these are the words of those who are turning themselves to things which are not within the power of the will. For who says, How shall I not assent to that which is false? how shall I not turn away from the truth? If a man be of such a good disposition as to be anxious about these things, I will remind him of this, Why are you anxious? The thing is in your own power: be assured: do not be precipitate in assenting before you apply the natural rule. On the other side, if a man is anxious (uneasy) about desire, lest it fail in its purpose and miss its end, and with respect to the avoidance of things, lest he should fall into that which he would avoid, I will first kiss (love) him, because he throws away the things about which others are in a flutter (others desire) and their fears, and employs his thoughts about his own affairs and his own condition. Then I shall say to him, if you do not choose to desire that which you will fail to obtain nor to attempt to avoid that into which you will fall, desire nothing which belongs to (which is in the power of) others, nor try to avoid any of the things which are not in your power. If you do not observe this rule, you must of necessity fail in your desires and fall into that which you would avoid. What is the difficulty here? where is there room for the words, How will it be? and How will it turn out? and will this happen or that?
Everyone’s difficulties and helplessness concern external things. What shall I do? How will it be? How will it turn out? Will this happen? Will that happen? All these questions come from people concerned with things outside the power of their will. For who asks, How can I avoid accepting what is false? How can I avoid turning away from the truth? If someone is good enough to worry about these things, I will remind him: Why are you worried? The matter is in your own power. Be confident. Do not be too quick to accept something before applying the natural rule. On the other hand, someone may worry that his desires will fail and that he will not get what he wants. He may also worry that he will fall into what he wants to avoid. First, I will kiss him with affection. He has put aside the things others desire and fear and that make them anxious. Instead, he thinks about his own affairs and his own condition. Then I will say to him: If you do not want your desires to fail or your attempts at avoidance to bring you into what you fear, desire nothing that is in someone else’s power. Do not try to avoid anything that is not in your power. If you do not follow this rule, you must fail to get what you desire and fall into what you would avoid. What is difficult about that? Where is there room for questions like, How will it be? How will it turn out? Will this happen or that?
Now is not that which will happen independent of the will? Yes. And the nature of good and of evil is it not in the things which are within the power of the will? Yes. Is it in your power then to treat according to nature every thing which happens? Can any person hinder you? No man. No longer then say to me, How will it be? For however it may be, you will dispose of it well, and the result to you will be a fortunate one. What would Hercules have been if he said, How shall a great lion not appear to me, or a great boar, or savage men? And what do you care for that? If a great boar appear, you will fight a greater fight: if bad men appear, you will relieve the earth of the bad. Suppose then that I lose my life in this way. You will die a good man, doing a noble act. For since we must certainly die, of necessity a man must be found doing something, either following the employment of a husbandman, or digging, or trading, or serving in a consulship or suffering from indigestion or from diarrhœa. What then do you wish to be doing when you are found by death? I for my part would wish to be found doing something which belongs to a man, beneficent, suitable to the general interest, noble. But if I cannot be found doing things so great, I would be found doing at least that which I cannot be hindered from doing, that which is permitted me to do, correcting myself, cultivating the faculty which makes use of appearances, labouring at freedom from the affects (labouring at tranquillity of mind), rendering to the relations of life their due; if I succeed so far, also (I would be found) touching on (advancing to) the third topic (or head) safety in the forming judgments about things. If death surprises me when I am busy about these things, it is enough for me if I can stretch out my hands to God and say: The means which I have received from thee for seeing thy administration (of the world) and following it, I have not neglected: I have not dishonoured thee by my acts: see how I have used my perceptions, see how I have used my preconceptions: have I ever blamed thee? have I been discontented with any thing that happens, or wished it to be otherwise? have I wished to transgress the (established) relations (of things)? That thou hast given me life, I thank thee for what thou hast given: so long as I have used the things which are thine I am content; take them back and place them wherever thou mayest choose; for thine were all things, thou gavest them to me—Is it not enough to depart in this state of mind, and what life is better and more becoming than that of a man who is in this state of mind? and what end is more happy?
Isn't what will happen beyond the control of your will? Yes. And aren't good and evil found in what is within your will's control? Yes. Then can you respond to everything that happens in accordance with nature? Can anyone stop you? No one. So do not ask me anymore, “What will happen?” Whatever happens, you will handle it well, and the outcome will be fortunate for you. What would Hercules have been if he had said, “How can I avoid encountering a great lion, a great boar, or savage men?” And why should you care about that? If a great boar appears, you will have a greater fight. If bad men appear, you will rid the earth of them. “But suppose I lose my life this way.” You will die a good man, doing a noble deed. We must all die, and when death finds us, we must be doing something. We might be farming, digging, trading, serving as consul, or suffering from indigestion or diarrhea. So what do you want to be doing when death finds you? For my part, I would want to be doing something worthy of a human being, something helpful, noble, and in the common interest. But suppose I cannot be found doing anything so great. Then I would at least be doing what no one can stop me from doing, what I am free to do. I would be correcting myself and cultivating my ability to make use of appearances. I would be working to free myself from passions and achieve peace of mind. I would be fulfilling my duties in the relationships of life. If I succeed in all this, I would also be making progress on the third topic: forming judgments about things without error. If death surprises me while I am occupied with these things, that is enough for me. I can stretch out my hands to God and say: “I have not neglected the means you gave me to understand how you govern the world and to follow your order. I have not dishonored you by my actions. See how I have used my perceptions and my preconceptions. Have I ever blamed you? Have I been unhappy with anything that happens, or wished it were otherwise? Have I wished to violate the established relationships between things? I thank you for giving me life. I am content for as long as I have used what belongs to you. Take it back and put it wherever you choose. For all things were yours, and you gave them to me.” Isn't it enough to depart in this state of mind? What life is better or more fitting than that of someone in this state of mind? And what end could be happier?
See a passage in Plutarch on Tranquillity from Euripides, a great storehouse of noble thoughts. Ancient writers drew much good material from him. Perhaps that is one reason so many of his plays and fragments have survived.
See iii. c. 2.
"Thine they were, and thou gavest them to me." John xvii. 6. Mrs. Carter.
[4] But that this may be done (that such a declaration may be made), a man must receive (bear) no small things, nor are the things small which he must lose (go without). You cannot both wish to be a consul and to have these things (the power of making such a dying speech), and to be eager to have lands, and these things also; and to be solicitous about slaves and about yourself. But if you wish for any thing which belongs to another, that which is your own is lost. This is the nature of the thing: nothing is given or had for nothing. And where is the wonder? If you wish to be a consul, you must keep awake, run about, kiss hands, waste yourself with exhaustion at other men's doors, say and do many things unworthy of a free man, send gifts to many, daily presents to some. And what is the thing that is got? Twelve bundles of rods (the consular fasces), to sit three or four times on the tribunal, to exhibit the games in the Circus and to give suppers in small baskets. Or, if you do not agree about this, let some one show me what there is besides these things. In order then to secure freedom from passions (ἀπαφείας), tranquillity, to sleep well when you do sleep, to be really awake when you are awake, to fear nothing, to be anxious about nothing, will you spend nothing and give no labour? But if any thing belonging to you be lost while you are thus busied, or be wasted badly, or another obtains what you ought to have obtained, will you immediately be vexed at what has happened? Will you not take into the account on the other side what you receive and for what, how much for how much? Do you expect to have for nothing things so great? And how can you? One work (thing) has no community with another. You cannot have both external things after bestowing care on them and your own ruling faculty: but if you would have those, give up this. If you do not, you will have neither this nor that, while you are drawn in different ways to both. The oil will be spilled, the household vessels will perish: (that may be), but I shall be free from passions (tranquil).—There will be a fire when I am not present, and the books will be destroyed: but I shall treat appearances according to nature—Well; but I shall have nothing to eat. If I am so unlucky, death is a harbour; and death is the harbour for all; this is the place of refuge; and for this reason not one of the things in life is difficult: as soon as you choose, you are out of the house, and are smoked no more. Why then are you anxious, why do you lose your sleep, why do you not straightway, after considering wherein your good is and your evil, say, Both of them are in my power? Neither can any man deprive me of the good, nor involve me in the bad against my will. Why do I not throw myself down and snore? for all that I have is safe. As to the things which belong to others, he will look to them who gets them, as they may be given by him who has the power. Who am I who wish to have them in this way or in that? is a power of selecting them given to me? has any person made me the dispenser of them? Those things are enough for me over which I have power: I ought to manage them as well as I can: and all the rest, as the master of them (God) may choose.
[4] But to make such a declaration, a man must endure a great deal and give up a great deal. You cannot want to be a consul and also have the power to make such a dying speech. You cannot be eager to own lands and have that power too. Nor can you be concerned about slaves and about yourself. If you want anything that belongs to another, you lose what is your own. That is how things are. Nothing is given or obtained for nothing. And why should that surprise us? If you want to be a consul, you must stay awake, run about, and kiss hands. You must wear yourself out waiting at other men’s doors. You must say and do many things unworthy of a free man. You must send gifts to many people, and daily presents to some. And what do you get? Twelve bundles of rods (the consular fasces), and a seat on the tribunal three or four times. You get to put on games in the Circus and provide suppers in small baskets. If you disagree, let someone show me what else there is. Then, to be free from passions (ἀπαφείας) and tranquil, will you spend nothing and make no effort? Will you do nothing to sleep well when you sleep, and to be truly awake when you are awake? Will you do nothing to fear nothing and worry about nothing? But suppose that, while you are occupied with these aims, you lose something you own, or it is badly wasted. Or suppose someone else gets what you should have received. Will you immediately be upset by what has happened? Won’t you also count what you receive in return, and what you pay for it? Won’t you weigh how much you receive against how much you give? Do you expect to get such great things for nothing? How could you? These aims have nothing in common. You cannot devote your care to external things and still keep your own ruling faculty. If you want those external things, give up your ruling faculty. If you do not, you will have neither, as you are pulled in different directions by both. The oil will spill, and the household vessels will be ruined. That may happen, but I shall be free from passions (tranquil). There will be a fire while I am away, and the books will be destroyed. But I shall respond to appearances according to nature. Well, but I shall have nothing to eat. If I am so unlucky, death is a harbor. Death is a harbor for all. It is a place of refuge. For this reason, nothing in life is difficult. As soon as you choose, you can leave the house and escape the smoke. Why, then, are you anxious? Why do you lose sleep? Why don’t you at once consider where your good and your evil lie, and say: “Both are in my power”? No one can take the good from me or bring me into evil against my will. Why don’t I lie down and snore? Everything I have is safe. As for things that belong to others, whoever receives them will look after them. They may be given by the one who has power over them. Who am I to want them arranged one way or another? Have I been given the power to choose them? Has anyone put me in charge of distributing them? The things over which I have power are enough for me. I should manage them as well as I can, and leave all the rest to their master (God), as he chooses.
See iv. 2. 2.
The Romans called these 'sportulæ.' Rich people gave these portions of food to poor dependents who came early to pay their respects.
"You cannot serve God and Mammon." Matthew vi. 24. Mrs. Carter.
See iv. 2, 5.
Compare i. 25, 18, and i. 9, 20.
See the note in Schweig.'s ed.
When a man has these things before his eyes, does he keep awake and turn hither and thither? What would he have, or what does he regret, Patroclus or Antilochus or Menelaus? For when did he suppose that any of his friends was immortal, and when had he not before his eyes that on the morrow or the day after he or his friend must die? Yes, he says, but I thought that he would survive me and bring up my son.—You were a fool for that reason, and you were thinking of what was uncertain. Why then do you not blame yourself, and sit crying like girls?—But he used to set my food before me.—Because he was alive, you fool, but now he cannot: but Automedon will set it before you, and if Automedon also dies, you will find another. But if the pot, in which your meat was cooked, should be broken, must you die of hunger, because you have not the pot which you are accustomed to? Do you not send and buy a new pot? He says:
When a man keeps these things in mind, does he lie awake, tossing and turning? What does he want, or whom does he mourn? Patroclus, Antilochus, or Menelaus? When did he ever imagine that any of his friends was immortal? Did he not always know that tomorrow or the next day, he or his friend must die? “Yes,” he says, “but I thought he would outlive me and raise my son.” You were a fool to think that, since you could not know. Why not blame yourself instead of sitting there crying like girls? “But he used to bring me my food.” That was because he was alive, you fool. Now he cannot. But Automedon will bring it to you. If Automedon dies too, you will find someone else. But suppose the pot in which your meat was cooked breaks. Must you starve because you no longer have the pot you are used to? Would you not send someone to buy a new pot? He says:
Epictetus refers to Iliad xxiv. 5, where Achilles mourns Patroclus's death and cannot sleep.
"This is a wretched idea of friendship; but a necessary consequence of the Stoic system. What a fine contrast to this gloomy consolation are the noble sentiments of an Apostle? Value your deceased friend, says Epictetus, as a broken pipkin; forget him, as a thing worthless, lost and destroyed. St. Paul, on the contrary, comforts the mourning survivors; bidding them not sorrow, as those who have no hope: but remember that the death of good persons is only a sleep; from which they will soon arise to a happy immortality." Mrs. Carter.
Epictetus does not say, 'value your deceased friend as a broken pipkin.' Achilles laments the loss of his friend's services at table, a vulgar complaint. He is thinking of his own loss instead of his friend. The answer is that the kind of loss he laments is easily made good. Losing such a friend is as easily made good as losing a cooking vessel.
Mrs. Carter is eager to contrast the Apostle's teaching with that of Epictetus. In her zeal, she seems to forget that, as far as we know, Epictetus did not accept or teach the doctrine of a future life. As for what he thought of friendship, if it was a real friendship such as we can imagine, I am sure he did not think of it as Mrs. Carter says he did. True friendship requires many of the virtues Epictetus taught and practised. He has a chapter on Friendship, ii. 22. I suppose Mrs. Carter did not think of it when she wrote this note.
No greater ill than this could fall on me. (Iliad xix. 321.)
Nothing worse than this could happen to me. (Iliad xix. 321.)
Why is this your ill? Do you then instead of removing it blame your mother (Thetis) for not foretelling it to you that you might continue grieving from that time? What do you think? do you not suppose that Homer wrote this that we may learn that those of noblest birth, the strongest and the richest, the most handsome, when they have not the opinions which they ought to have, are not prevented from being most wretched and unfortunate?
Why is this your misfortune? Instead of removing it, do you blame your mother (Thetis) for not foretelling it? Would you have preferred to grieve from that time onward? What do you think? Surely Homer wrote this to teach us something. Even those of the noblest birth, the strongest, the richest, and the most handsome can be utterly miserable and unfortunate. Nothing prevents this when they do not have the opinions they should have.
We must not quarrel with the things that are, For they care not for us; but he who feels them If he disposes well of things, fares well.
We must not quarrel with things as they are, because they do not care about us. But the person affected by them fares well if he handles them well.
Nunc sportula primo Limine parva sedet turbae rapienda togatae. Juvenal, Sat. i. 95.
Now a small handout waits at the entrance, ready to be snatched up by the crowd in togas. Juvenal, Sat. i. 95.