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Are these the only works of Providence within us? What words suffice to praise or set them forth? Had we but understanding, should we ever cease hymning and blessing the Divine Power, both openly and in secret, and telling of His gracious gifts? Whether digging or ploughing or eating, should we not sing the hymn to God:—

Are these the only works of Providence within us? What words are enough to praise them or describe them properly? If we truly understood, would we ever stop singing and blessing the Divine Power? We should do this both in public and in private, telling others of His gracious gifts. Whether we're digging or plowing or eating, shouldn't we sing this hymn to God:

Thus should we ever have sung; yea and this, the grandest and divinest hymn of all:—

This is how we should always have sung. Yes, and this too, the greatest and most divine hymn of all:

What then! seeing that most of you are blinded, should there not be some one to fill this place, and sing the hymn to God on behalf of all men? What else can I that am old and lame do but sing to God? Were I a nightingale, I should do after the manner of a nightingale. Were I a swan, I should do after the manner of a swan. But now, since I am a reasonable being, I must sing to God: that is my work: I do it, nor will I desert this my post, as long as it is granted me to hold it; and upon you too I call to join in this self-same hymn.

What then? Since most of you are blind, should there not be someone to fill this place and sing the hymn to God on behalf of all mankind? What else can I do, old and lame as I am, but sing to God? If I were a nightingale, I would do what a nightingale does. If I were a swan, I would do what a swan does. But as it is, I am a rational being, so I must sing to God. That is my work. I do it, and I will not desert this post of mine for as long as it is granted to me to hold it. And I call on you too to join in this same hymn.

How then do men act? As though one returning to his country who had sojourned for the night in a fair inn, should be so captivated thereby as to take up his abode there.

How do people actually behave? Like a traveler who stops at a beautiful inn for one night on his way home. He becomes so enchanted with the place that he decides to live there permanently.

“Friend, thou hast forgotten thine intention! This was not thy destination, but only lay on the way thither.”

"Friend, you've forgotten your purpose! This wasn't your destination. It was just a stop along the way."

“Nay, but it is a proper place.”

“No, but it is a pleasant place.”

“And how many more of the sort there may be; only to pass through upon thy way! Thy purpose was to return to thy country; to relieve thy kinsmen’s fears for thee; thyself to discharge the duties of a citizen; to marry a wife, to beget offspring, and to fill the appointed round of office. Thou didst not come to choose out what places are most pleasant; but rather to return to that wherein thou wast born and where wert appointed to be a citizen.”

“And how many more places like it there may be, only to pass through on your way! Your purpose was to return to your country. It was to relieve your relatives’ fears for you, to carry out the duties of a citizen yourself, to marry a wife, to have children, and to fill your appointed round of public office. You did not come to pick out the most pleasant places. You came to return to the place where you were born and where you were appointed to be a citizen.”

Try to enjoy the great festival of life with other men.

Try to enjoy the great celebration of life with other people.

But I have one whom I must please, to whom I must be subject, whom I must obey:—God, and those who come next to Him. He hath entrusted me with myself: He hath made my will subject to myself alone and given me rules for the right use thereof.

But I have one person I must please, one I must answer to, one I must obey: God, and those who come after Him. He has entrusted me with myself. He has made my will subject to me alone and given me rules for using it correctly.

Rufus used to say, If you have leisure to praise me, what I say is naught. In truth he spoke in such wise, that each of us who sat there, though that some one had accused him to Rufus:—so surely did he lay his finger on the very deeds we did: so surely display the faults of each before his very eyes.

Rufus used to say, If you have time to praise me, then what I'm saying is worthless. He truly spoke in such a way that each of us sitting there thought someone had reported our faults to Rufus. He put his finger exactly on the things we had done. He displayed each person's flaws right before their eyes.

But what saith God?—“Had it been possible, Epictetus, I would have made both that body of thine and thy possessions free and unimpeded, but as it is, be not deceived:—it is not thine own; it is but finely tempered clay. Since then this I could not do, I have given thee a portion of Myself, in the power of desiring and declining and of pursuing and avoiding, and in a word the power of dealing with the things of sense. And if thou neglect not this, but place all that thou hast therein, thou shalt never be let or hindered; thou shalt never lament; thou shalt not blame or flatter any. What then? Seemth this to thee a little thing?”—God forbid!—“Be content then therewith!”

But what does God say? "If it were possible, Epictetus, I would have made your body and your possessions free and unhindered. But as things are, don't be fooled. Your body is not truly your own. It is only finely crafted clay. Since I could not give you that freedom, I have given you a portion of Myself instead. I gave you the power to desire and refuse. I gave you the power to pursue and avoid. In short, I gave you the power to handle the things you perceive with your senses. If you don't neglect this gift, if you place everything you have in it, you will never be blocked or hindered. You will never complain. You will not blame or flatter anyone. So what then? Does this seem like a small thing to you?" God forbid! "Then be content with it!"

And so I pray the Gods.

And so I pray to the Gods.

What saith Antisthenes? Hast thou never heard?—

What does Antisthenes say? Haven't you heard?

It is a kingly thing, O Cyrus, to do well and to be evil spoken of.

It's a mark of true leadership, O Cyrus, to do good deeds and still be criticized for them.

“Aye, but to debase myself thus were unworthy of me.”

"Yes, but lowering myself like that would be beneath me."

“That,” said Epictetus, “is for you to consider, not for me. You know yourself what you are worth in your own eyes; and at what price you will sell yourself. For men sell themselves at various prices. This was why, when Florus was deliberating whether he should appear at Nero’s shows, taking part in the performance himself, Agrippinus replied, ‘But why do not you appear?’ he answered, ‘Because I do not even consider the question.’ For the man who has once stooped to consider such questions, and to reckon up the value of external things, is not far from forgetting what manner of man he is. Why, what is it that you ask me? Is death preferable, or life? I reply, Life. Pain or pleasure? I reply, Pleasure.”

“That,” said Epictetus, “is for you to consider, not for me. You know yourself what you are worth in your own eyes, and at what price you will sell yourself. For men sell themselves at various prices. This is why Agrippinus answered as he did. Florus was deliberating whether he should appear at Nero’s shows and take part in the performance himself. When he asked Agrippinus, ‘But why do you not appear?’ Agrippinus answered, ‘Because I do not even consider the question.’ For the man who has once stooped to consider such questions, and to reckon up the value of external things, is not far from forgetting what kind of man he is. Why, what is it you are asking me? Is death preferable, or life? I reply, Life. Pain or pleasure? I reply, Pleasure.”

“Well, but if I do not act, I shall lose my head.”

"Sure, but if I don't do it, I'll be executed."

“Then go and act! But for my part I will not act.”

"Then go ahead and do it! But I'm not going to."

“Why?”

"Why?"

“Because you think yourself but one among the many threads which make up the texture of the doublet. You should aim at being like men in general—just as your thread has no ambition either to be anything distinguished compared with the other threads. But I desire to be the purple—that small and shining part which makes the rest seem fair and beautiful. Why then do you bid me become even as the multitude? Then were I no longer the purple.”

“Because you think of yourself as just one of the many threads that make up the fabric of the garment. You should aim to be like men in general, just as your thread has no ambition to be anything special compared with the other threads. But I want to be the purple, that small and shining part that makes the rest look fair and beautiful. Why then do you tell me to become like the crowd? Then I would no longer be the purple.”

If a man could be throughly penetrated, as he ought, with this thought, that we are all in an especial manner sprung from God, and that God is the Father of men as well as of Gods, full surely he would never conceive aught ignoble or base of himself. Whereas if Cæsar were to adopt you, your haughty looks would be intolerable; will you not be elated at knowing that you are the son of God? Now however it is not so with us: but seeing that in our birth these two things are commingled—the body which we share with the animals, and the Reason and Thought which we share with the Gods, many decline towards this unhappy kinship with the dead, few rise to the blessed kinship with the Divine. Since then every one must deal with each thing according to the view which he forms about it, those few who hold that they are born for fidelity, modesty, and unerring sureness in dealing with the things of sense, never conceive aught base or ignoble of themselves: but the multitude the contrary. Why, what am I?—A wretched human creature; with this miserable flesh of mine. Miserable indeed! but you have something better than that paltry flesh of yours. Why then cling to the one, and neglect the other?

If someone could truly grasp this thought as they should, that we all come from God in a special way, and that God is the Father of humans just as much as of the divine, they would never think anything unworthy or base about themselves. If Caesar adopted you, your proud bearing would be unbearable. Won't you feel uplifted knowing you are a child of God? But that's not how it works for us. At birth, two things mix together: the body we share with animals, and the Reason and Thought we share with the Gods. Many people lean toward this unfortunate kinship with the dead. Few rise to the blessed kinship with the Divine. Everyone must deal with each thing according to how they view it. Those few who believe they are born for faithfulness, modesty, and perfect judgment in handling physical things never think anything base or unworthy of themselves. But most people think the opposite. "What am I?" they ask. "A wretched human creature with this miserable flesh of mine." Miserable indeed! But you have something better than that worthless flesh of yours. Why cling to one and neglect the other?

Thou art but a poor soul laden with a lifeless body.

You are just a poor soul carrying around a dead body.

The other day I had an iron lamp placed beside my household gods. I heard a noise at the door and on hastening down found my lamp carried off. I reflected that the culprit was in no very strange case. “Tomorrow, my friend,” I said, “you will find an earthenware lamp; for a man can only lose what he has.”

The other day I had an iron lamp placed beside my household gods. I heard a noise at the door, and when I hurried down I found my lamp carried off. I reflected that the thief had done nothing very strange. “Tomorrow, my friend,” I said, “you will find an earthenware lamp. For a man can only lose what he has.”

The reason why I lost my lamp was that the thief was superior to me in vigilance. He paid however this price for the lamp, that in exchange for it he consented to become a thief: in exchange for it, to become faithless.

I lost my lamp because the thief was more alert than me. But he paid a price for that lamp. In exchange for it, he agreed to become a thief. In exchange for it, he became faithless.

But God hath introduced Man to be a spectator of Himself and of His works; and not a spectator only, but also an interpreter of them. Wherefore it is a shame for man to begin and to leave off where the brutes do. Rather he should begin there, and leave off where Nature leaves off in us: and that is at contemplation, and understanding, and a manner of life that is in harmony with herself.

God brought humanity into the world to witness Him and His creation. But we're not just spectators. We're also meant to interpret what we see. That's why it's shameful for humans to start and stop where animals do. We should begin where they begin, yes. But we should end where Nature intended for us to end. That means contemplation. That means understanding. That means living in harmony with our true nature.

See then that ye die not without being spectators of these things.

Make sure you don't die without witnessing these things.

You journey to Olympia to see the work of Phidias; and each of you holds it a misfortune not to have beheld these things before you die. Whereas when there is no need even to take a journey, but you are on the spot, with the works before you, have you no care to contemplate and study these?

You travel to Olympia to see the work of Phidias. Each of you thinks it's a tragedy to die without seeing these famous works. But you don't need to travel anywhere now. You're already here, standing right in front of these works. Yet you have no interest in looking at them or studying them?

Will you not then perceive either who you are or unto what end you were born: or for what purpose the power of contemplation has been bestowed on you?

Won't you understand who you are? Won't you see what purpose you were born for? Don't you realize why you were given the ability to think and reflect?

“Well, but in life there are some things disagreeable and hard to bear.”

"Sure, but life has some unpleasant and difficult things to deal with."

And are there none at Olympia? Are you not scorched by the heat? Are you not cramped for room? Have you not to bathe with discomfort? Are you not drenched when it rains? Have you not to endure the clamor and shouting and such annoyances as these? Well, I suppose you set all this over against the splendour of the spectacle and bear it patiently. What then? have you not received greatness of heart, received courage, received fortitude? What care I, if I am great of heart, for aught that can come to pass? What shall cast me down or disturb me? What shall seem painful? Shall I not use the power to the end for which I received it, instead of moaning and wailing over what comes to pass?

Aren't there problems at Olympia too? Aren't you scorched by the heat? Don't you have to deal with cramped conditions? Don't you bathe in discomfort? Don't you get drenched when it rains? Don't you have to put up with the noise, the shouting, and all sorts of other annoyances? But I imagine you weigh all of this against the magnificence of the games and bear it patiently. So what's different here? Haven't you been given greatness of heart? Haven't you received courage and strength? If I have a great heart, why should I care about anything that happens? What could possibly knock me down or upset me? What could seem painful? Shouldn't I use this power for the purpose I received it, instead of complaining and crying about whatever happens?

If what philosophers say of the kinship of God and Man be true, what remains for men to do but as Socrates did:—never, when asked one’s country, to answer, “I am an Athenian or a Corinthian,” but “I am a citizen of the world.”

If philosophers are right that God and humanity are related, then we should follow Socrates' example. When someone asks where you're from, don't say "I am an Athenian" or "I am a Corinthian." Instead, say "I am a citizen of the world."

He that hath grasped the administration of the World, who hath learned that this Community, which consists of God and men, is the foremost and mightiest and most comprehensive of all:—that from God have descended the germs of life, not to my father only and father’s father, but to all things that are born and grow upon the earth, and in an especial manner to those endowed with Reason (for those only are by their nature fitted to hold communion with God, being by means of Reason conjoined with Him)—why should not such an one call himself a citizen of the world? Why not a son of God? Why should he fear aught that comes to pass among men? Shall kinship with Cæsar, or any other of the great at Rome, be enough to hedge men around with safety and consideration, without a thought of apprehension: while to have God for our Maker, and Father, and Kinsman, shall not this set us free from sorrows and fears?

Someone who understands how the World is governed has learned something important. This Community is made up of God and humanity. It is the greatest and most powerful community of all. From God came the seeds of life. These seeds didn't just go to my father and grandfather. They went to everything born and growing on earth. They went especially to beings with Reason. Only these beings can naturally connect with God. Through Reason, they are joined with Him. Why shouldn't such a person call himself a citizen of the world? Why not a son of God? Why should he fear anything that happens among people? Being related to Caesar or any other powerful person in Rome can protect you. It brings safety and respect without worry. If that's true, then having God as our Maker, Father, and Kinsman should do even more. Shouldn't this free us from sorrows and fears?

I do not think that an old fellow like me need have been sitting here to try and prevent your entertaining abject notions of yourselves, and talking of yourselves in an abject and ignoble way: but to prevent there being by chance among you any such young men as, after recognising their kindred to the Gods, and their bondage in these chains of the body and its manifold necessities, should desire to cast them off as burdens too grievous to be borne, and depart their true kindred. This is the struggle in which your Master and Teacher, were he worthy of the name, should be engaged. You would come to me and say: “Epictetus, we can no longer endure being chained to this wretched body, giving food and drink and rest and purification: aye, and for its sake forced to be subservient to this man and that. Are these not things indifferent and nothing to us? Is it not true that death is no evil? Are we not in a manner kinsmen of the Gods, and have we not come from them? Let us depart thither, whence we came: let us be freed from these chains that confine and press us down. Here are thieves and robbers and tribunals: and they that are called tyrants, who deem that they have after a fashion power over us, because of the miserable body and what appertains to it. Let us show them that they have power over none.”

I don't think an old man like me should have to sit here trying to stop you from thinking poorly of yourselves or talking about yourselves in degrading and shameful ways. My real concern is that there might be young men among you who recognize their kinship with the Gods. They see themselves bound by these chains of the body and its many needs. They might want to throw off these burdens as too heavy to bear and leave to join their true family. This is the real struggle your Master and Teacher should be fighting, if he were worthy of that title. You would come to me and say: "Epictetus, we can no longer stand being chained to this miserable body. We have to give it food and drink and rest and keep it clean. Because of it, we're forced to serve this person and that person. Aren't these things meaningless to us? Isn't it true that death is not evil? Aren't we related to the Gods in some way? Haven't we come from them? Let us return to where we came from. Let us be freed from these chains that bind us and weigh us down. There are thieves and robbers and courts. There are those called tyrants who think they have some kind of power over us because of this wretched body and everything connected to it. Let us show them that they have power over no one."

And to this I reply:—

And here's my response:

“Friends, wait for God. When He gives the signal, and releases you from this service, then depart to Him. But for the present, endure to dwell in the place wherein He hath assigned you your post. Short indeed is the time of your habitation therein, and easy to those that are minded. What tyrant, what robber, what tribunals have any terrors for those who thus esteem the body and all that belong to it as of no account? Stay; depart not rashly hence!”

Friends, wait for God. When He gives you the signal and releases you from this service, then go to Him. But for now, keep living in the place where He has stationed you. Your time here is short and easy for those who accept it. What tyrant, what thief, what court should frighten those who see the body and everything connected to it as worthless? Stay. Don't leave rashly.

Something like that is what should pass between a teacher and ingenuous youths. As it is, what does pass? The teacher is a lifeless body, and you are lifeless bodies yourselves. When you have had enough to eat today, you sit down and weep about tomorrow’s food. Slave! if you have it, well and good; if not, you will depart: the door is open—why lament? What further room is there for tears? What further occasion for flattery? Why should one envy another? Why should you stand in awe of them that have much or are placed in power, especially if they be also strong and passionate? Why, what should they do to us? What they can do, we will not regard: what does concern us, that they cannot do. Who then shall rule one that is thus minded?

Something like that is what should pass between a teacher and young men of open, noble nature. As it is, what does pass? The teacher is a lifeless body, and you are lifeless bodies yourselves. When you have had enough to eat today, you sit down and weep about tomorrow’s food. Slave! If you have it, well and good. If not, you will depart. The door is open. Why lament? What further room is there for tears? What further reason for flattery? Why should one man envy another? Why should you stand in awe of those who have much or are placed in power, especially if they are also strong and hot-tempered? Why, what can they do to us? What they can do, we will pay no attention to. What does concern us, they cannot do. Who then shall rule a man who thinks this way?

Seeing this then, and noting well the faculties which you have, you should say,—“Send now, O God, any trial that Thou wilt; lo, I have means and powers given me by Thee to acquit myself with honour through whatever comes to pass!”—No; but there you sit, trembling for fear certain things should come to pass, and moaning and groaning and lamenting over what does come to pass. And then you upbraid the Gods. Such meanness of spirit can have but one result—impiety.

Understanding this, and recognizing the abilities you have, you should say: "Send me any challenge you want, O God. Look, you've given me the tools and strength to handle whatever happens with honor!" But no. Instead you sit there, shaking with fear that certain things might happen. You moan and groan and complain about what does happen. And then you blame the Gods. This kind of weak spirit can only lead to one thing: disrespect for the divine.

Yet God has not only given us these faculties by means of which we may bear everything that comes to pass without being crushed or depressed thereby; but like a good King and Father, He has given us this without let or hindrance, placed wholly at our own disposition, without reserving to Himself any power of impediment or restraint. Though possessing all these things free and all you own, you do not use them! you do not perceive what it is you have received nor whence it comes, but sit moaning and groaning; some of you blind to the Giver, making no acknowledgment to your Benefactor; others basely giving themselves to complaints and accusations against God.

God has given us abilities that let us handle whatever happens without being crushed or depressed. Like a good King and Father, He gave us these abilities freely, without restrictions. He placed them completely under our control. He kept no power to block or restrain us. You have all these things free and clear, yet you don't use them. You don't realize what you've received or where it came from. Instead, you sit around moaning and groaning. Some of you are blind to the Giver. You make no acknowledgment to your Benefactor. Others stoop even lower, complaining and accusing God.

Yet what faculties and powers you possess for attaining courage and greatness of heart, I can easily show you; what you have for upbraiding and accusation, it is for you to show me!

I can easily show you the abilities you have for courage and greatness of spirit. But you'll have to show me what you have for complaining and blaming others!

How did Socrates bear himself in this regard? How else than as became one who was fully assured that he was the kinsman of Gods?

How did Socrates handle himself in this situation? Exactly as you'd expect from someone who was completely convinced that he was related to the Gods.

If God had made that part of His own nature which He severed from Himself and gave to us, liable to be hindered or constrained either by Himself or any other, He would not have been God, nor would He have been taking care of us as He ought . . . . If you choose, you are free; if you choose, you need blame no man—accuse no man. All things will be at once according to your mind and according to the Mind of God.

If God had made the part of His nature that He separated and gave to us capable of being blocked or controlled by Himself or anyone else, He wouldn't be God. He wouldn't be caring for us the way He should. If you choose, you are free. If you choose, you don't need to blame anyone or accuse anyone. Everything will align with your will and with God's will at the same time.

Petrifaction is of two sorts. There is petrifaction of the understanding; and also of the sense of shame. This happens when a man obstinately refuses to acknowledge plain truths, and persists in maintaining what is self-contradictory. Most of us dread mortification of the body, and would spare no pains to escape anything of that kind. But of mortification of the soul we are utterly heedless. With regard, indeed, to the soul, if a man is in such a state as to be incapable of following or understanding anything, I grant you we do think him in a bad way. But mortification of the sense of shame and modesty we go so far as to dub strength of mind!

There are two kinds of becoming hardened like stone. One affects our ability to think clearly. The other deadens our sense of shame. This happens when someone stubbornly refuses to accept obvious truths. They keep insisting on things that contradict themselves. Most of us fear physical harm to our bodies. We would do anything to avoid that kind of damage. But when it comes to damage to our souls, we don't care at all. Now, if someone's soul is so damaged that they can't follow or understand anything, we do recognize that person is in bad shape. But when someone's sense of shame and decency becomes deadened? We actually call that strength of mind!

If we were as intent upon our business as the old fellows at Rome are upon what interests them, we too might perhaps accomplish something. I know a man older than I am, now Superintendent of the Corn-market at Rome, and I remember when he passed through this place on his way back from exile, what an account he gave me of his former life, declaring that for the future, once home again, his only care should be to pass his remaining years in quiet and tranquility. “For how few years have I left!” he cried. “That,” I said, “you will not do; but the moment the scent of Rome is in your nostrils, you will forget it all; and if you can but gain admission to Court, you will be glad enough to elbow your way in, and thank God for it.” “Epictetus,” he replied, “if ever you find me setting as much as one foot within the Court, think what you will of me.”

If we were as intent on our business as the old men at Rome are on what interests them, we too might perhaps accomplish something. I know a man older than I am, now Superintendent of the Corn-market at Rome. I remember when he passed through here on his way back from exile. What an account he gave me of his former life! He declared that from then on, once home again, his only care would be to spend his remaining years in quiet and tranquility. “For how few years I have left!” he cried. “That,” I said, “you will not do. The moment you catch the scent of Rome, you will forget it all. And if you can only gain admission to Court, you will be glad enough to elbow your way in, and thank God for it.” “Epictetus,” he replied, “if you ever find me setting so much as one foot inside the Court, think what you like of me.”

Well, as it was, what did he do? Ere ever he entered the city, he was met by a despatch from the Emperor. He took it, and forgot the whole of his resolutions. From that moment, he has been piling one thing upon another. I should like to be beside him to remind him of what he said when passing this way, and to add, How much better a prophet I am than you!

Well, here's what actually happened. Before he even reached the city, a message from the Emperor intercepted him. He read it and instantly forgot all his resolutions. From that moment on, he kept piling one thing on top of another. I wish I could stand beside him now to remind him of what he said when he passed through here. I'd add, "See? I'm a much better prophet than you are!"

What then? do I say man is not made for an active life? Far from it! . . . But there is a great difference between other men’s occupations and ours. . . . A glance at theirs will make it clear to you. All day long they do nothing but calculate, contrive, consult how to wring their profit out of food-stuffs, farm-plots and the like. . . . Whereas, I entreat you to learn what the administration of the World is, and what place a Being endowed with reason holds therein: to consider what you are yourself, and wherein your Good and Evil consists.

So what am I saying? That humans aren't made for active lives? Not at all! But there's a huge difference between what other people do and what we should be doing. Just look at them. You'll see it clearly. They spend all day calculating, scheming, and planning how to squeeze profit from food supplies, land deals, and things like that. But I'm asking you to learn something different. Learn how the Universe actually works. Understand what role a thinking, reasoning being has in it. Think about what you really are. Figure out what truly makes your life good or bad.

A man asked me to write to Rome on his behalf who, as most people thought, had met with misfortune; for having been before wealthy and distinguished, he had afterwards lost all and was living here. So I wrote about him in a humble style. He however on reading the letter returned it to me, with the words: “I asked for your help, not for your pity. No evil has happened unto me.”

A man asked me to write a letter to Rome on his behalf. Most people thought he had suffered a terrible misfortune. He had once been wealthy and respected, but he lost everything and was now living here. So I wrote about him in a sympathetic way. When he read the letter, he returned it to me with these words: "I asked for your help, not for your pity. Nothing bad has happened to me."

True instruction is this:—to learn to wish that each thing should come to pass as it does. And how does it come to pass? As the Disposer has disposed it. Now He has disposed that there should be summer and winter, and plenty and dearth, and vice and virtue, and all such opposites, for the harmony of the whole.

True instruction is this: to learn to wish that each thing should happen just as it does. And how does it happen? As the Disposer has arranged it. Now he has arranged that there should be summer and winter, plenty and scarcity, vice and virtue, and all such opposites, for the harmony of the whole.

Have this thought ever present with thee, when thou losest any outward thing, what thou gainest in its stead; and if this be the more precious, say not, I have suffered loss.

Keep this thought always in mind: when you lose something external, consider what you gain in its place. If what you gain is more valuable, don't say you've suffered a loss.

Concerning the Gods, there are who deny the very existence of the Godhead; others say that it exists, but neither bestirs nor concerns itself nor has forethought for anything. A third party attribute to it existence and forethought, but only for great and heavenly matters, not for anything that is on earth. A fourth party admit things on earth as well as in heaven, but only in general, and not with respect to each individual. A fifth, of whom were Ulysses and Socrates are those that cry:—

When it comes to the Gods, some people deny that divinity exists at all. Others say it exists but doesn't act, doesn't care, and has no plan for anything. A third group believes in its existence and its planning, but only for great cosmic matters, not for anything on earth. A fourth group accepts divine concern for earthly things as well as heavenly ones, but only in a general sense, not for individual people. A fifth group, which included Ulysses and Socrates, are the ones who declare:

I move not without Thy knowledge!

I don't move without You knowing!

Considering all these things, the good and true man submits his judgement to Him that administers the Universe, even as good citizens to the law of the State. And he that is being instructed should come thus minded:—How may I in all things follow the Gods; and, How may I rest satisfied with the Divine Administration; and, How may I become free? For he is free for whom all things come to pass according to his will, and whom none can hinder. What then, is freedom madness? God forbid. For madness and freedom exist not together.

When you think about all this, a good and honest person accepts the judgment of the one who runs the Universe. It's like how good citizens accept the laws of their country. Anyone who wants to learn should approach with these questions in mind: How can I follow the Gods in everything? How can I be content with how the Divine runs things? How can I become free? A person is free when everything happens according to their will and no one can stop them. But does this mean freedom is the same as madness? Absolutely not. Madness and freedom cannot exist together.

“But I wish all that I desire to come to pass and in the manner that I desire.”

"But I want everything I desire to happen, and I want it to happen exactly the way I want it to."

—You are mad, you are beside yourself. Know you not that Freedom is a glorious thing and of great worth? But that what I desired at random I should wish at random to come to pass, so far from being noble, may well be exceeding base.

You're crazy. You've lost your mind. Don't you know that freedom is glorious and valuable? But wanting random things to happen just because I randomly desired them isn't noble at all. In fact, it might be deeply shameful.

You must know that it is no easy thing for a principle to become a man’s own, unless each day he maintain it and hear it maintained, as well as work it out in life.

You need to understand that making a principle truly your own isn't easy. You have to practice it every day. You need to hear it reinforced. And you must apply it in real life.

You are impatient and hard to please. If alone, you call it solitude: if in the company of men, you dub them conspirators and thieves, and find fault with your very parents, children, brothers, and neighbours. Whereas when by yourself you should have called it Tranquillity and Freedom: and herein deemed yourself like unto the Gods. And when in the company of many, you should not have called it a wearisome crowd and tumult, but an assembly and a tribunal; and thus accepted all with contentment.

You're never satisfied and always complaining. When you're alone, you call it loneliness. When you're with other people, you call them conspirators and thieves. You even find fault with your own parents, children, brothers, and neighbors. But when you're by yourself, you should call it peace and freedom. You should see yourself as being like the Gods. And when you're with a crowd, don't call it a tiresome mob or chaos. Call it a gathering, a court of judgment. Accept it all with contentment.

What then is the chastisement of those who accept it not? To be as they are. Is any discontented with being alone? let him be in solitude. Is any discontented with his parents? let him be a bad son, and lament. Is any discontented with his children? let him be a bad father.—“Throw him into prison!”—What prison?—Where he is already: for he is there against his will; and wherever a man is against his will, that to him is a prison. Thus Socrates was not in prison, since he was there with his own consent.

What then is the punishment of those who do not accept it? To be as they are. Is anyone discontented with being alone? Let him be in solitude. Is anyone discontented with his parents? Let him be a bad son, and lament. Is anyone discontented with his children? Let him be a bad father. “Throw him into prison!” What prison? The one he is in already. For he is there against his will, and wherever a man is against his will, that place is a prison to him. So Socrates was not in prison, since he was there by his own consent.

Knowest thou what a speck thou art in comparison with the Universe?—-That is, with respect to the body; since with respect to Reason, thou art not inferior to the Gods, nor less than they. For the greatness of Reason is not measured by length or height, but by the resolves of the mind. Place then thy happiness in that wherein thou art equal to the Gods.

Do you know how tiny you are compared to the Universe? That's in terms of your body. But when it comes to Reason, you are not inferior to the Gods. You are no less than they are. The greatness of Reason isn't measured by length or height. It's measured by the decisions of the mind. So place your happiness in that quality where you equal the Gods.

Asked how a man might eat acceptably to the Gods, Epictetus replied:—If when he eats, he can be just, cheerful, equable, temperate, and orderly, can he not thus eat acceptably to the Gods? But when you call for warm water, and your slave does not answer, or when he answers brings it lukewarm, or is not even found to be in the house at all, then not to be vexed nor burst with anger, is not that acceptable to the Gods?

Someone asked Epictetus how a person could eat in a way that pleases the Gods. He answered: If you can be just, cheerful, balanced, moderate, and orderly while eating, wouldn't that please the Gods? But imagine you call for warm water and your servant doesn't respond. Or he brings it lukewarm. Or he's not even in the house at all. If you don't get upset or explode with anger in those moments, isn't that what pleases the Gods?

“But how can one endure such people?”

"But how can anyone put up with people like that?"

Slave, will you not endure your own brother, that has God to his forefather, even as a son sprung from the same stock, and of the same high descent as yourself? And if you are stationed in a high position, are you therefor forthwith set up for a tyrant? Remember who you are, and whom you rule, that they are by nature your kinsmen, your brothers, the offspring of God.

Slave, will you not bear with your own brother? He has God for his forefather, just as you do. He is a son sprung from the same stock as you, and of the same high descent. And if you are placed in a high position, does that at once make you a tyrant? Remember who you are, and whom you rule. They are by nature your kinsmen, your brothers, the offspring of God.

“But I paid a price for them, not they for me.”

"But I paid a price for them, not the other way around."

Do you see whither you are looking—down to the earth, to the pit, to those despicable laws of the dead? But to the laws of the Gods you do not look.

Do you see where you're looking? Down to the earth, to the pit, to those worthless laws of the dead? But you don't look to the laws of the Gods.

When we are invited to a banquet, we take what is set before us; and were one to call upon his host to set fish upon the table or sweet things, he would be deemed absurd. Yet in a word, we ask the Gods for what they do not give; and that, although they have given us so many things!

When we're invited to a dinner party, we eat what's served to us. If someone demanded their host bring out fish or desserts that weren't on the menu, everyone would think they were ridiculous. Yet we constantly ask the Gods for things they don't give us. We do this even though they've already given us so much!

Asked how a man might convince himself that every single act of his was under the eye of God, Epictetus answered:—

When asked how someone could convince himself that God watches every single thing he does, Epictetus answered:

“Do you not hold that things on earth and things in heaven are continuous and in unison with each other?”

"Don't you see that everything on earth and everything in heaven are connected and work together?"

“I do,” was the reply.

"I do," he replied.

“Else how should the trees so regularly, as though by God’s command, at His bidding flower; at His bidding send forth shoots, bear fruit and ripen it; at His bidding let it fall and shed their leaves, and folded up upon themselves lie in quietness and rest? How else, as the Moon waxes and wanes, as the Sun approaches and recedes, can it be that such vicissitude and alternation is seen in earthly things?

How else could trees follow such a regular pattern, as if obeying God's command? At His word they flower. At His word they send out new shoots, bear fruit, and ripen it. At His word they let the fruit fall and shed their leaves, then fold in upon themselves to lie quiet and rest. How else could we explain it? As the Moon waxes and wanes, as the Sun moves closer and farther away, we see constant change and alternation in earthly things. What else could account for this?

“If then all things that grow, nay, our own bodies, are thus bound up with the whole, is not this still truer of our souls? And if our souls are bound up and in contact with God, as being very parts and fragments plucked from Himself, shall He not feel every movement of theirs as though it were His own, and belonging to His own nature?”

Think about it this way: if all growing things, even our own bodies, are connected to the whole universe, wouldn't this be even more true for our souls? And if our souls are connected and in contact with God, since they are actual pieces torn from Him, wouldn't He feel every movement they make as if it were His own, as if it belonged to His own nature?

“But,” you say, “I cannot comprehend all this at once.”

"But," you say, "I can't understand all this at once."

“Why, who told you that your powers were equal to God’s?”

"Wait, who told you that you have the same power as God?"

Yet God hath placed by the side of each a man’s own Guardian Spirit, who is charged to watch over him—a Guardian who sleeps not nor is deceived. For to what better or more watchful Guardian could He have committed which of us? So when you have shut the doors and made a darkness within, remember never to say that you are alone; for you are not alone, but God is within, and your Guardian Spirit, and what light do they need to behold what you do? To this God you also should have sworn allegiance, even as soldiers unto Cæsar. They, when their service is hired, swear to hold the life of Cæsar dearer than all else: and will you not swear your oath, that are deemed worthy of so many and great gifts? And will you not keep your oath when you have sworn it? And what oath will you swear? Never to disobey, never to arraign or murmur at aught that comes to you from His hand: never unwillingly to do or suffer aught that necessity lays upon you.

God has placed a Guardian Spirit beside each person, charged with watching over them. This Guardian never sleeps and cannot be deceived. What better or more watchful Guardian could He have given us? So when you close your doors and darken your room, remember you are never truly alone. You are not alone because God is within you, and your Guardian Spirit is there too. What light do they need to see what you do? You should pledge your loyalty to this God, just as soldiers pledge loyalty to Caesar. When soldiers are hired, they swear to value Caesar's life above all else. Won't you swear an oath when you've been given so many great gifts? And once you've sworn it, won't you keep your word? What oath will you swear? Never to disobey. Never to complain or grumble about anything that comes from His hand. Never to unwillingly do or endure anything that necessity requires of you.

“Is this oath like theirs?”

"Is this oath like theirs?"

They swear to hold no other dearer than Cæsar: you, to hold our true selves dearer than all else beside.

They swear to hold no one dearer than Caesar. You must hold your true self dearer than everything else.

“How shall my brother cease to be wroth with me?”

"How can I get my brother to stop being angry with me?"

Bring him to me, and I will tell him. But to thee I have nothing to say about his anger.

Bring him to me, and I'll tell him. But I have nothing to say to you about his anger.

When one took counsel of Epictetus, saying, “What I seek is this, how even though my brother be not reconciled to me, I may still remain as Nature would have me to be,” he replied: “All great things are slow of growth; nay, this is true even of a grape or of a fig. If then you say to me now, I desire a fig, I shall answer, It needs time: wait till it first flower, then cast its blossom, then ripen. Whereas then the fruit of the fig-tree reaches not maturity suddenly nor yet in a single hour, do you nevertheless desire so quickly, and easily to reap the fruit of the mind of man?—Nay, expect it not, even though I bade you!”

Someone once consulted Epictetus, saying, “What I seek is this: how I may still remain as Nature would have me be, even if my brother is not reconciled to me.” He replied: “All great things are slow to grow. Indeed, this is true even of a grape or a fig. If you say to me now, I want a fig, I will answer, It needs time. Wait until it first flowers, then sheds its blossom, then ripens. The fruit of the fig tree does not ripen suddenly, nor in a single hour. Do you still want to reap the fruit of a man’s mind so quickly and easily? No, do not expect it, even if I told you to!”

Epaphroditus had a shoemaker whom he sold as being good-for-nothing. This fellow, by some accident, was afterwards purchased by one of Cæsar’s men, and became a shoemaker to Cæsar. You should have seen what respect Epaphroditus paid him then. “How does the good Felicion? Kindly let me know!” And if any of us inquired, “What is Epaphroditus doing?” the answer was, “He is consulting about so and so with Felicion.”—Had he not sold him as good-for-nothing? Who had in a trice converted him into a wiseacre?

Epaphroditus had a shoemaker whom he sold as good for nothing. By some chance, this fellow was later bought by one of Cæsar’s men and became shoemaker to Cæsar. You should have seen the respect Epaphroditus paid him then! “How is the good Felicion doing? Please let me know!” And if any of us asked, “What is Epaphroditus doing?” the answer was, “He is consulting with Felicion about such and such.” Had he not sold him as good for nothing? Who had turned him into a wiseacre in an instant?

This is what comes of holding of importance anything but the things that depend on the Will.

This is what happens when you care about anything except the things that depend on your own will.

What you shun enduring yourself, attempt not to impose on others. You shun slavery—beware of enslaving others! If you can endure to do that, one would think you had been once upon a time a slave yourself. For Vice has nothing in common with virtue, nor Freedom with slavery.

Don't force on others what you yourself refuse to endure. You avoid slavery, so don't enslave others. If you can bring yourself to do that, it seems you must have been a slave yourself at some point. Vice has nothing in common with virtue. Freedom has nothing in common with slavery.

Has a man been raised to tribuneship? Every one that he meets congratulates him. One kisses him on the eyes, another on the neck, while the slaves kiss his hands. He goes home to find torches burning; he ascends to the Capitol to sacrifice.—Who ever sacrificed for having had right desires; for having conceived such inclinations as Nature would have him? In truth we thank the Gods for that wherein we place our happiness.

Has a man been promoted to tribune? Everyone he meets congratulates him. One person kisses him on the eyes, another on the neck. His slaves kiss his hands. He goes home to find torches burning. He climbs to the Capitol to make a sacrifice. But who ever sacrificed for having right desires? Who ever gave thanks for wanting what Nature intended? The truth is, we thank the Gods only for things we think will make us happy.

A man was talking to me to-day about the priesthood of Augustus. I said to him, “Let the thing go, my good Sir; you will spend a good deal to no purpose.”

Someone came to talk with me today about becoming a priest of Augustus. I told him, "Forget about it, my friend. You'll waste a lot of money for nothing."

“Well, but my name will be inserted in all documents and contracts.”

"Sure, but my name will appear on all the official documents and contracts."

“Will you be standing there to tell those that read them, That is my name written there? And even if you could now be there in every case, what will you do when you are dead?”

Will you be standing there to tell the people who read them, "That's my name written there"? And even if you could be there every time, what will you do when you're dead?

“At all events my name will remain.”

"At least my name will live on."

“Inscribe it on a stone and it will remain just as well. And think, beyond Nicopolis what memory of you will there be?”

"Carve it on a stone and it will last just as long. And think about this: beyond Nicopolis, who will remember you?"

“But I shall have a golden wreath to wear.”

"But I'll get to wear a golden wreath."

“If you must have a wreath, get a wreath of roses and put it on; you will look more elegant!”

"If you want to wear a wreath, choose one made of roses. You'll look more elegant!"

Above all, remember that the door stands open. Be not more fearful than children; but as they, when they weary of the game, cry, “I will play no more,” even so, when thou art in the like case, cry, “I will play no more” and depart. But if thou stayest, make no lamentation.

Above all, remember that the door stands open. Don't be more fearful than children. When they grow tired of a game, they simply say, "I don't want to play anymore," and they leave. Do the same when you find yourself in a similar situation. Say, "I don't want to play anymore" and depart. But if you choose to stay, don't complain.

Is there smoke in the room? If it be slight, I remain; if grievous, I quit it. For you must remember this and hold it fast, that the door stands open.

Is there smoke in the room? If it's just a little, I stay. If it's too much, I leave. You must remember this and hold onto it: the door is always open.

“You shall not dwell at Nicopolis!”

"You won't be allowed to live in Nicopolis!"

Well and good.

All right.

“Nor at Athens.”

"Not in Athens either."

Then I will not dwell at Athens either.

Then I won't live in Athens either.

“Nor at Rome.”

"Not in Rome either."

Nor at Rome either.

Not in Rome either.

“You shall dwell in Gyara!”

"You'll be sent to live in Gyara!"

Well: but to dwell in Gyara seems to me like a grievous smoke; I depart to a place where none can forbid me to dwell: that habitation is open unto all! As for the last garment of all, that is the poor body; beyond that, none can do aught unto me. This why Demetrius said to Nero: “You threaten me with death; it is Nature who threatens you!”

Well, but living in Gyara seems to me like a choking smoke. I leave for a place where no one can forbid me to live. That dwelling is open to all! As for the last garment of all, that is this poor body. Beyond that, no one can do anything to me. This is why Demetrius said to Nero: “You threaten me with death. It is Nature who threatens you!”

The beginning of philosophy is to know the condition of one’s own mind. If a man recognises that this is in a weakly state, he will not then want to apply it to questions of the greatest moment. As it is, men who are not fit to swallow even a morsel, buy whole treatises and try to devour them. Accordingly they either vomit them up again, or suffer from indigestion, whence come gripings, fluxions, and fevers. Whereas they should have stopped to consider their capacity.

Philosophy starts with understanding your own mind's condition. Once you recognize your mind is weak, you won't try to apply it to the most important questions. But that's not what happens. People who can't even swallow a bite buy entire books and try to devour them. So they either throw them back up or get indigestion. This leads to cramps, upset stomach, and fever. They should have paused to consider what they could actually handle.

In theory it is easy to convince an ignorant person: in actual life, men not only object to offer themselves to be convinced, but hate the man who has convinced them. Whereas Socrates used to say that we should never lead a life not subjected to examination.

It's easy to convince someone who doesn't know better when you're just talking theory. But in real life, people resist being convinced. They even end up hating the person who convinced them. Socrates used to say we should never live without examining our lives.

This is the reason why Socrates, when reminded that he should prepare for his trial, answered: “Thinkest thou not that I have been preparing for it all my life?”

This is why Socrates, when reminded that he should prepare for his trial, answered: "Don't you think I've been preparing for it all my life?"

“In what way?”

"How?"

“I have maintained that which in me lay!”

“I have guarded what lay in my own power!”

“How so?”

"How so?"

“I have never, secretly or openly, done a wrong unto any.”

"I have never wronged anyone, whether in secret or in the open."

In what character dost thou now come forward?

What role are you playing now?

As a witness summoned by God. “Come thou,” saith God, “and testify for me, for thou art worthy of being brought forward as a witness by Me. Is aught that is outside thy will either good or bad? Do I hurt any man? Have I placed the good of each in the power of any other than himself? What witness dost thou bear to God?”

As a witness called by God. "Come," God says, "and testify for me. You are worthy of being brought forward as my witness. Is anything outside your will either good or bad? Do I hurt anyone? Have I placed each person's good in the power of anyone other than themselves? What witness do you bear to God?"

“I am in evil state, Master, I am undone! None careth for me, none giveth me aught: all men blame, all speak evil of me.”

"I'm in a terrible state, Master. I'm ruined! Nobody cares about me. Nobody gives me anything. Everyone blames me. Everyone speaks badly of me."

Is this the witness thou wilt bear, and do dishonour to the calling wherewith He hath called thee, because He hath done thee so great honour, and deemed thee worthy of being summoned to bear witness in so great a cause?

Is this the testimony you'll give? Will you dishonor the calling He gave you? He has honored you greatly. He deemed you worthy of being called to testify in such an important matter.

Wouldst thou have men speak good of thee? speak good of them. And when thou hast learned to speak good of them, try to do good unto them, and thus thou wilt reap in return their speaking good of thee.

Do you want people to speak well of you? Then speak well of them. Once you've learned to speak well of them, try to do good things for them. This way you'll earn their good words in return.