How We Should Think as God’s Children

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

1. Suppose what philosophers say about the kinship between God and humanity is true. What else should we do but follow Socrates’ example? When asked where he came from, he never answered Athens or Corinth, but the universe. Why do you call yourself an Athenian? Why not name only the little corner where your miserable body was dropped at birth? Surely you take the name Athenian or Corinthian from the larger, more important place. It contains not only that corner and your whole household, but also the entire land your ancestors came from. Now consider someone who has studied how the universe is governed. They have learned that the greatest, strongest, and largest of all communities consists of humanity and God. From him come the seeds of life. They come not only to my father or grandfather, but to all creatures conceived and born on earth. This is especially true of rational beings. Nature has given them alone the ability to share in life with God and communicate with him. They are linked to him through reason. Why should someone who understands this not call themselves a citizen of the universe? Why not a son of God? Why should they fear anything that may happen among human beings? Can kinship with Caesar, or another powerful person in Rome, let us live safely, respected, and completely without fear? Then should having God as our maker, father, and guardian not free us from grief and fear?

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

But I have no money, someone says. Where will I get bread to eat?

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

2. Aren’t you ashamed to be more cowardly and fainthearted than runaway slaves? How do they leave their masters when they run away? What estates do they rely on? What servants? Don’t they steal a little to get through the first few days? Then don’t they travel by land and sea, finding one way after another to earn a living? And when has a runaway slave ever died of hunger? Yet you tremble and lie awake at night, afraid you’ll lack the necessities of life. You wretched man! Are you so blind? Don’t you see where a lack of necessities leads? And where does it lead? To the same place as a fever or a falling rock. To death. Haven’t you often said this to your friends? Haven’t you often read these things aloud and written them down? And how often have you boasted that you were at peace with death? Yes, but my loved ones will also go hungry. So what? Does their hunger lead anywhere different from yours? Don’t they go down to the same place you do? Isn’t there one underworld for both them and you? Won’t you then face all poverty and hardship with courage? Look toward the place where the wealthiest men and the most powerful rulers must go, even kings and tyrants. You may arrive hungry, while they arrive bursting with indigestion and drunkenness.

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

How rarely do you see a beggar who is not an old man, often extremely old? Yet they freeze night and day, lie on the ground, and eat barely enough to survive. They seem almost unable to die. Can’t you copy writings? Can’t you teach children? Or work as someone’s doorkeeper?

But it is shameful to come to such a necessity!

But it is shameful to be forced into such a situation!

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

First, learn what things are shameful. Then tell us you are a philosopher. But for now, do not even let anyone else call you one.

3. Is that shameful to thee which is not thine own doing, whereof thou art not the cause, which cometh to thee without thy will, like a headache or a fever? If thy parents were poor, or made others their heirs, or are alive and give thee nothing, are these things shameful to thee? Is this what thou hast learnt from the philosophers? Hast thou never heard that what is shameful is blamable; and that which is blamable ought to be blamed? But what man wilt thou blame for a work not his own, one that he himself never did! And didst thou make thy father such as he is? or was it in thy power to correct him?—is it given thee to do this? What then? Oughtest thou to desire what is not given to thee? or to be ashamed if thou attain it not? Or hast thou been accustomed, in philosophy, to look to others, and to hope for nothing from thyself? Lament, therefore, and groan, and eat thy bread in fear, lest thou have nothing to eat on the morrow. Tremble for thy slaves, lest they steal, or run away, or die. Do thou live thus, now and ever, who hast approached to the name only of philosophy, and hast brought the precepts of it to shame, so far as in thee lies, showing them to be worthless and useless to those who adopt them; thou, who hast never striven to gain steadfastness, tranquillity, peace; that never waited upon any man for the sake of these things, but upon many for the sake of learning syllogisms; that never tested for thine own self any one of these appearances:—Am I able to bear it, or am I not able? What, then, remains for me to do? But, as though all went fairly and safely with thee, thou abidest in the final part of philosophy,⁵⁷ that which confirms beyond all change—and wherein wilt thou be confirmed? in cowardice, meanness, admiration of wealth, in vain pursuit, and vain efforts to avoid? These are the things thou dost meditate how to preserve unharmed.

3. Is something shameful to you if it is not your doing, you did not cause it, and it comes against your will? What if it is like a headache or a fever? Suppose your parents were poor, made others their heirs, or are alive and give you nothing. Are these things shameful to you? Is this what you have learned from philosophers? Have you never heard that what is shameful deserves blame, and what deserves blame ought to be blamed? But who would you blame for something he did not do, something that was never his own action? Did you make your father what he is? Was it in your power to change him? Is that power yours? What then? Should you desire what is beyond your power? Should you feel ashamed if you fail to obtain it? Or have you learned through philosophy to look to others and expect nothing from yourself? Then weep and groan, and eat your bread in fear that you will have nothing to eat tomorrow. Tremble for your slaves, afraid they will steal, run away, or die. Go on living this way, now and always. You have embraced philosophy in name only. As far as you can, you have disgraced its teachings, making them seem worthless and useless to those who follow them. You have never worked to gain steadfastness, calm, or peace. You have never sought out anyone to gain these things, though you have sought out many to learn syllogisms. You have never tested any of these impressions for yourself: Can I bear it, or can I not? What, then, remains for me to do? Instead, as though everything were going well and safely for you, you remain in the final part of philosophy.⁵⁷ This is the part that makes your convictions unshakable. And what convictions will you make unshakable? Cowardice, pettiness, admiration of wealth, the futile pursuit of things, and futile efforts to avoid them? These are the things you study how to keep intact.

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

4. Shouldn’t you first have learned something from reason, and then made that knowledge secure? Have you ever seen anyone build a wall’s protective top without a wall to put it on? And who posts a doorkeeper where there is no door? Yet you study how to prove propositions. And what proposition? How to keep waves of false reasoning from sweeping you away. But away from what? First show me what you are guarding, measuring, or weighing. Then show me the scales or measuring rod. How long will you keep measuring dust? Aren’t these the things you ought to prove? What makes people happy? What makes things turn out as we wish? How can we blame no one, accuse no one, and adapt ourselves to the order of the universe? Yes, prove these things to me! But I do, he says. Look! I solve syllogisms for you. Slave! That is the measuring rod, not the thing being measured. So now you pay the price for neglecting philosophy. You tremble, lie awake at night, and seek advice everywhere. And if that advice does not please everyone, you think it was bad advice.

5. Then you fear hunger, as you suppose. But it is not hunger that you fear—you fear you will have no cook, nor nobody else to buy victuals for you, nor another to take off your boots, nor another to put them on, nor others to rub you down, nor others to follow you about, so that when you have stripped yourself in the bath, and stretched yourself out as if you were crucified, you may be rubbed to and fro, and then the rubber standing by may say, Turn him round, give me his side, take hold of his head, let me have his shoulder; and then when you leave the bath and go home you may shout, Is no one bringing anything to eat? and then, Take away the plates, and wipe them. This is what you fear,—lest you be not able to live like a sick man. But learn how those live that are in health—slaves, and laborers, and true philosophers; how Socrates lived, who moreover had a wife and children; how Diogenes lived; how Cleanthes that studied in the schools and drew his own water.⁵⁸ If you would have these things, they are everywhere to be had, and you will live boldly. Bold in what? In that wherein alone it is possible to be bold—in that which is faithful, which cannot be hindered, which cannot be taken away. But why hast thou made thyself so worthless and useless that no one is willing to receive thee into his house or take care of thee? But if any utensil were thrown away, and it was sound and serviceable, every one that found it would pick it up and think it a gain; but thee no man would pick up, nor count anything but damage. So thou canst not so much as serve the purpose of a watch-dog, or a cock? Why, then, wilt thou still live, being such a man as thou art?

5. So you think you fear hunger. But hunger is not what you fear. You fear having no cook, no one to buy your food, and no one to take off your boots. You fear having no one to put them on, massage you, or follow you around. At the baths, you strip and stretch yourself out as if you were crucified, to be rubbed all over. The attendant stands beside you and says, Turn him around, give me his side, hold his head, give me his shoulder. Then you leave the baths and go home, shouting, Is no one bringing anything to eat? Then you say, Clear the plates and wipe them. This is what you fear, not being able to live like a sick man. But learn how healthy people live, slaves, laborers, and true philosophers. Learn how Socrates lived, though he also had a wife and children. Learn how Diogenes lived, and how Cleanthes studied in the schools and drew his own water.⁵⁸ If you want this way of life, you can find it anywhere, and you will live boldly. Bold about what? About the only thing that allows real boldness, what is trustworthy, cannot be obstructed, and cannot be taken away. But why have you made yourself so worthless and useless? No one is willing to welcome you into their home or care for you. If a discarded tool were still sound and useful, anyone who found it would pick it up. They would consider it a gain. But no one would pick you up or consider you anything but a burden. So you cannot even serve the purpose of a watchdog or a rooster? Why, then, do you still want to live, being the kind of man you are?

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

6. Does any good man fear that he will lose the means to feed himself? The blind and the lame do not lack these means. Will a good man lack them? A good soldier finds someone to pay him. So do the laborer and the shoemaker. Will a good man find no one? Is God, then, careless about his instruments, his servants, his witnesses? He uses them alone to show the ignorant what he is like. Through them, he shows that he governs all things well and cares about human affairs. He also shows that nothing is evil for a good man, either in life or in death. But what about when he leaves them without food? How is that different from a good general giving me the signal to retreat? I obey and follow, praising my leader and singing hymns to his works. I came when it pleased him, and I will go when it pleases him. Throughout my life, my work has also been to sing God's praise. I have done this alone, with individuals, and before crowds. He does not give me many things or great wealth. He does not intend me to live in luxury. Nor did he provide such things for Hercules, his own son. Another man ruled Argos and Mycenae, while Hercules obeyed, worked, and underwent discipline. Eurystheus was what he was. He was no true king of Argos and Mycenae, since he was not even master of himself. Hercules, however, was lord and leader of all the earth and sea. He cleared them of lawlessness and wrongdoing and established righteousness and holiness. He did this naked and alone. And when Odysseus was shipwrecked and stranded, did his poverty humble him at all or break his spirit? How did he approach the young women to beg for life's necessities, which people consider most shameful to seek from others?

Trusting in what? Not in fame, nor wealth, but in his own valor—that is, his opinions of the things that are and are not in our power.⁵⁹ For these alone it is that make men free and unhindered; that lift up the heads of the abject, and bid them look rich men and tyrants steadily in the face. And this was the gift of the philosopher; but thou wilt never go forth boldly, but trembling for thy fine raiment and silver dishes. Miserable man! hast thou indeed thus wasted all thy time till now?

Trusting in what? Not in fame or wealth, but in his own courage. That means his judgments about what is and is not within our control.⁵⁹ These alone make people free and let them act without obstacles. They lift the heads of the downtrodden and tell them to look rich men and tyrants steadily in the face. This was the philosopher’s gift. But you will never step out boldly. Instead, you tremble with fear for your fine clothes and silver dishes. You miserable man! Have you really wasted all your time until now like this?