---
title: "Discourses · Ἀρριανοῦ τῶν Ἐπικτήτου Διατριβῶν"
author: "Epictetus"
translator: "Thomas Wentworth Higginson"
languages: [grc, en]
shelf: "Philosophy"
section: 4 of 23
url: https://scriptura.si/works/epictetus-discourses/4/
cite: "Epictetus, tr. Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Discourses · Ἀρριανοῦ τῶν Ἐπικτήτου Διατριβῶν, section 4. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/epictetus-discourses/4/"
---

# Discourses · Ἀρριανοῦ τῶν Ἐπικτήτου Διατριβῶν

*Epictetus, tr. Thomas Wentworth Higginson*

A former slave’s lessons in Stoic freedom, taken down by his pupil Arrian.

> Greek: ed. Heinrich Schenkl, from the Perseus Digital Library (canonical-greekLit, tlg0557.tlg001, CC BY-SA 4.0).

> English: Thomas Wentworth Higginson, from the Perseus Digital Library (tlg0557.tlg001.perseus-eng4). Notes are not included.

> Rows follow the references the two texts share (books, chapters and sections), cut where both reach the end of a sentence.

## 4. Book I · chapters 11–18

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/epictetus-discourses/4/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/epictetus-discourses/4/#p-N

[¶0] And if it had seemed otherwise to us. what else should we have done than what we thought right? This, and not the death of Patroclus, was the real source of the lamentation of Achilles,—for every man is not thus affected by the death of a friend,—that it seemed right to him. This too was the cause of your running away from your child, that it then seemed right; and if hereafter you should stay with her, it will be because that seems right. You are now returning to Rome because it seems right to you; but if you should alter your opinion you will not return. In a word, neither death, nor exile, nor pain, nor anything of this kind, is the real cause of our doing or not doing any action, but our inward opinions and principles. Do I convince you of this, or not? “You do.”

> Greek: τί δʼ ἐστὶ τοῦτο; ἆρά γε ἄλλο ἢ ὅτι ἔδοξεν ἡμῖν; — οὐδέν. — εἰ δʼ ἄλλως ἡμῖν ἐφάνη, τί ἂν ἄλλο ἢ τὸ δόξαν ἐπράττομεν; οὐκ οὖν καὶ τῷ Ἀχιλλεῖ τοῦτο αἴτιον τοῦ πενθεῖν, οὐχ ὁ τοῦ Πατρόκλου θάνατος (ἄλλος γάρ τις οὐ πάσχει ταῦτα τοῦ ἑταίρου ἀποθανόντος), ἀλλʼ ὅτι ἔδοξεν αὐτῷ. καὶ σοὶ τότε φεύγειν τοῦτο αὐτὸ ὅτι ἔδοξέν σοι· καὶ πάλιν, ἐὰν μείνῃς, ὅτι ἔδοξέν σοι. καὶ νῦν ἐν Ῥώμῃ ἀνέρχῃ, ὅτι δοκεῖ σοι· κἂν μεταδόξῃ, οὐκ ἂν ἀπελεύσῃ. καὶ ἁπλῶς οὔτε θάνατος οὔτε φυγὴ οὔτε πόνος οὔτε ἄλλο τι τῶν τοιούτων αἴτιόν ἐστι τοῦ πράττειν τι ἢ μὴ πράττειν ἡμᾶς, ἀλλʼ ὑπολήψεις καὶ δόγματα.

[¶1] Well, then, such as the cause is, such will be the effect. From this day forward, then, whenever we do anything wrong, we will impute it to the wrong principle from which we act; and we will endeavor to remove and extirpate that, with greater care than we would remove wens and tumors from the body. In like manner, we will ascribe what we do right to the same cause; and we will accuse neither servant, nor neighbor, nor wife, nor children, as the cause of any evil to us,—persuaded that if we had not accepted certain principles, we should not carry them to such consequences. The control of these principles lies in us, and not in any outward things. Of these principles we ourselves, and not things outward, are the masters. “Agreed.”

> Greek: τοῦτό σε πείθω ἢ οὐχί; — Πεί[σ]θεις, ἔφη. — οἷα δὴ τὰ αἴτια ἐφʼ ἑκάστου, τοιαῦτα καὶ τὰ ἀποτελούμενα. οὐκοῦν ὅταν μὴ ὀρθῶς τι πράττωμεν, ἀπὸ ταύτης τῆς ἡμέρας οὐδὲν ἄλλο αἰτιασόμεθα ἢ τὸ δόγμα, ἀφʼ οὗ αὐτὸ ἐπράξαμεν, κἀκεῖνο ἐξαίρειν καὶ ἐκτέμνειν πειρασόμεθα μᾶλλον ἢ τὰ φύματα καὶ τὰ ἀποστήματα ἐκ τοῦ σώματος. ὡσαύτως δὲ καὶ τῶν ὀρθῶς πραττομένων ταὐτὸν τοῦτο αἴτιον ἀποφανοῦμεν. καὶ οὔτʼ οἰκέτην ἔτι αἰτιασόμεθα οὔτε γείτονα οὔτε γυναῖκα οὔτε τέκνα ὡς αἴτιά τινων κακῶν ἡμῖν γινόμενα πεπεισμένοι ὅτι, ἂν μὴ ἡμῖν δόξῃ τοιαῦτά τινα εἶναι, οὐ πράττομεν τὰ ἀκόλουθα· τοῦ δόξαι δὲ ἢ μὴ δόξαι, ἡμεῖς κύριοι καὶ οὐ τὰ ἐκτός. — οὕτως, ἔφη.

[¶2] From this day, then, we will not so closely inquire as to any external conditions,—estate or slaves, or horses, or dogs,—but only make sure of our own principles.

> Greek: — ἀπὸ τῆς σήμερον τοίνυν ἡμέρας οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἐπισκοπήσομεν οὐδʼ ἐξετάσομεν, ποῖόν τι ἐστὶν ἢ πῶς ἔχει, οὔτε τὸν ἀγρὸν οὔτε τὰ ἀνδράποδα οὔτε τοὺς ἵππους ἢ κύνας, ἀλλὰ τὰ δόγματα.

[¶3] “Such is my desire,” said the visitor.

> Greek: — εὔχομαι, ἔφη.

[¶4] You see, then, that it is necessary for you to become a student, that being whom every one laughs at, if you really desire to make an examination of your own principles; but this, as you should know, is not the work of an hour or a day.

> Greek: — ὁρᾷς οὖν, ὅτι σχολαστικόν σε δεῖ γενέσθαι, τοῦτο τὸ ζῷον οὗ πάντες καταγελῶσιν, εἴπερ ἄρα θέλεις ἐπίσκεψιν τῶν σαυτοῦ δογμάτων ποιεῖσθαι. τοῦτο δʼ ὅτι μιᾶς ὥρας ἢ ἡμέρας οὐκ ἔστιν, ἐπινοεῖς καὶ αὐτός.

[¶5] 12. Concerning the gods, some affirm that there is no deity; others, that he indeed exists, but is slothful, negligent, and without providential care; a third class admits both his being and his providence, but only in respect to great and heavenly objects, not earthly; a fourth recognizes him both in heaven and earth, but only in general, not individual matters; a fifth, like Odysseus and Socrates, says, “cannot be hid from thee in any of my motions.” It is, before all things, necessary to examine each of these opinions; which is, and which is not rightly spoken. Now, if there are no gods, wherefore serve them? If there are, but they take no care of anything, how is the case bettered? Or, if they both are, and take care; yet, if there is nothing communicated from them to men, and therefore certainly nothing to me, how much better is it? A wise and good man, after examining these things, submits his mind to Him who administers the whole, as good citizens do to the laws of the commonwealth. He, then, who comes to be instructed, ought to come with this aim: “How may I in everything follow the gods? How may I acquiesce in the divine administration? And how may I be free?” For he is free to whom all happens agreeably to his desire, and whom no one can unduly restrain. “What, then, is freedom mere license?” By no means; for madness and freedom are incompatible. “But I would have that happen which appears to me desirable, however it comes to appear so.” You are mad; you have lost your senses. Do not you know that freedom is a very beautiful and valuable thing? But for me to choose at random, and for things to happen agreeably to such a choice, may be so far from a beautiful thing, as to be of all things the most undesirable. For how do we proceed in writing? Do I choose to write the name of Dion (for instance) as I will? No, but I am taught to be willing to write it as it ought to be written. And what is the case in music? The same. And what in every other art or science? Otherwise, it would be of no purpose to learn anything if it were to be adapted to each one’s particular humor. Is it, then, only in the greatest and principal matter, that of freedom, permitted me to desire at random? By no means; but true instruction is this,—learning to desire that things should happen as they do. And how do they happen? As the appointer of them hath appointed. He hath appointed that there should be summer and winter, plenty and dearth, virtue and vice, and all such contrarieties, for the harmony of the whole. To each of us he has given a body and its parts, and our several possessions and companions. Mindful of this appointment, we should enter upon a course of education and instruction, not in order to change the constitution of things,—a gift neither practicable nor desirable,—but that, things being as they are with regard to us, we may have our minds accommodated to the facts. Can we, for instance, flee from mankind? How is that possible? Can we, by conversing with them, transform them? Who has given us such a power? What, then, remains, or what method is there to be found, for such a commerce with them that, while they act according to the appearances in their own minds, we may nevertheless be affected conformably to nature? But you are wretched and discontented. If you are alone, you term it a desert; and if with men, you call them cheats and robbers. You find fault too with your parents, and children, and brothers, and neighbors. Whereas you ought, if you live alone, to call that repose and freedom, and to esteem yourself as resembling the gods; and when you are in company, not to call it a crowd, and a tumult, and a trouble, but an assembly, and a festival,—and thus to take all things contentedly. What, then, is the punishment of those who do not so accept them? To be as they are. Is any one discontented with being alone? Let him remain in his desert. Discontented with his parents? Let him be a bad son; and let him mourn, Discontented with his children? Let him be a bad father. Shall we throw him into prison? What prison? Where he already is; for he is in a situation against his will, and wherever any one is against his will, that is to him a prison,—just as Socrates was not truly in prison, for he was willingly there. “What, then, must my leg be lame?” And is it for one paltry leg, wretch, that you accuse the universe? Can you not forego that, in consider tion of the whole? Can you not give up something? Can you not gladly yield it to him who gave it? And will you be angry and discontented with the decrees of Zeus,—which he, with the Fates, who spun in his presence the thread of your birth, ordained and appointed? Do not you know how very small a part you are of the whole?—that is, as to body; for, as to reason, you are neither worse nor less than divine. For reason is not measured by size or height, but by principles. Will you not, therefore, place your good there where you share with the gods? “But how wretched am I, in such a father and mother!” What, then, was it granted you to come beforehand, and make your own terms, and say, “Let such and such persons, at this hour, be the authors of my birth”? It was not granted; for it was necessary that your parents should exist before you, and so you be born afterwards. Of whom? Of just such as they were. What, then, since they are such, is there no remedy afforded you? Surely, you would be wretched and miserable if you knew not the use of sight, and shut your eyes in presence of colors; and are not you more wretched and miserable in being ignorant that you have within you the needful nobleness and manhood wherewith to meet these accidents? Events proportioned to your reason are brought before you; but you turn your mind away, at the very time when you ought to have it the most open and discerning. Why do not you rather thank the gods that they have made you superior to those events which they have not placed within your own control, and have rendered you accountable for that only which is within your own control? They discharge you from all responsibility for your parents, for your brothers, for your body, possessions, death, life. For what, then, have they made you responsible? For that which is alone in your own power,—a right use of things as they appear. Why, then, should you draw those cares upon yourself for which you are not accountable? This is giving one’s self vexation without need.

> Greek: 12. περὶ θεῶν οἱ μέν τινές εἰσιν οἱ λέγοντες μηδʼ εἶναι τὸ θεῖον, οἱ δʼ εἶναι μέν, ἀργὸν δὲ καὶ ἀμελὲς καὶ μὴ προνοεῖν μηδενός· τρίτοι δʼ οἱ καὶ εἶναι καὶ προνοεῖν, ἀλλὰ τῶν μεγάλων καὶ οὐρανίων, τῶν δὲ ἐπὶ γῆς μηδενός· τέταρτοι δʼ οἱ καὶ τῶν ἐπὶ γῆς καὶ τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων, εἰς κοινὸν δὲ μόνον καὶ οὐχὶ δὲ καὶ κατʼ ἰδίαν ἑκάστου· πέμπτοι δʼ, ὧν ἦν καὶ Ὀδυσσεὺς καὶ Σωκράτης, οἱ λέγοντες ὅτι οὐδέ σε λήθω κινύμενος. πολὺ πρότερον οὖν ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστι περὶ ἑκάστου τούτων ἐπεσκέφθαι, πότερα ὑγιῶς ἢ οὐχ ὑγιῶς λεγόμενόν ἐστιν. εἰ γὰρ μὴ εἰσὶν θεοί, πῶς ἐστι τέλος ἕπεσθαι θεοῖς; εἰ δʼ εἰσὶν μέν, μηδενὸς δʼ ἐπιμελούμενοι, καὶ οὕτως πῶς ὑγιὲς ἔσται; ἀλλὰ δὴ καὶ ὄντων καὶ ἐπιμελομένων εἰ μηδεμία διάδοσις εἰς ἀνθρώπους ἐστὶν ἐξ αὐτῶν καὶ νὴ Δία γε καὶ εἰς ἐμέ, πῶς ἔτι καὶ οὕτως ὑγιές ἐστιν; πάντα οὖν ταῦτα ὁ καλὸς καὶ ἀγαθὸς ἐπεσκεμμένος τὴν αὑτοῦ γνώμην ὑποτέταχεν τῷ διοικοῦντι τὰ ὅλα καθάπερ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ πολῖται τῷ νόμῳ τῆς πόλεως. ὁ δὲ παιδευόμενος ταύτην ὀφείλει τὴν ἐπιβολὴν ἔχων ἐλθεῖν ἐπὶ τὸ παιδεύεσθαι πῶς ἂν ἑποίμην ἐγὼ ἐν παντὶ τοῖς θεοῖς καὶ πῶς ἂν εὐαρεστοίην τῇ θείᾳ διοικήσει καὶ πῶς ἂν γενοίμην ἐλεύθερος; ἐλεύθερος γάρ ἐστιν, ᾧ γίνεται πάντα κατὰ προαίρεσιν καὶ ὃν οὐδεὶς δύναται κωλῦσαι. τί οὖν; ἀπόνοιά ἐστιν ἡ ἐλευθερία; μὴ γένοιτο. μανία γὰρ καὶ ἐλευθερία εἰς ταὐτὸν οὐκ ἔρχεται. ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ θέλω πᾶν τὸ δοκοῦν μοι ἀποβαίνειν, κἂν ὁπωσοῦν δοκῇ. μαινόμενος εἶ, παραφρονεῖς. οὐκ οἶδας, ὅτι καλόν τι ἐλευθερία ἐστὶ καὶ ἀξιόλογον; τὸ δʼ ὡς ἔτυχέν με βούλεσθαι τὰ [δʼ] ὡς ἔτυχεν δόξαντα γίνεσθαι, τοῦτο κινδυνεύει οὐ μόνον οὐκ εἶναι καλόν, ἀλλὰ καὶ πάντων αἴσχιστον εἶναι. πῶς γὰρ ἐπὶ γραμματικῶν ποιοῦμεν; βούλομαι γράφειν ὡς θέλω τὸ Δίωνος ὄνομα; οὔ· ἀλλὰ διδάσκομαι θέλειν, ὡς δεῖ γράφεσθαι. τί ἐπὶ μουσικῶν; ὡσαύτως. τί ἐν τῷ καθόλου, ὅπου τέχνη τις ἢ ἐπιστήμη ἐστίν; εἰ δὲ μή, οὐδενὸς ἦν ἄξιον τὸ ἐπίστασθαί τι, εἰ ταῖς ἑκάστων βουλήσεσι προσηρμόζετο. ἐνταῦθα οὖν μόνον ἐπὶ τοῦ μεγίστου καὶ κυριωτάτου, τῆς ἐλευθερίας, ὡς ἔτυχεν ἐφεῖταί μοι θέλειν; οὐδαμῶς, ἀλλὰ τὸ παιδεύεσθαι τοῦτʼ ἔστι μανθάνειν ἕκαστα οὕτω θέλειν ὡς γίνεται. πῶς δὲ γίνεται; ὡς διέταξεν αὐτὰ ὁ διατάσσων. διέταξε δὲ θέρος εἶναι καὶ χειμῶνα καὶ φορὰν καὶ ἀφορίαν καὶ ἀρετὴν καὶ κακίαν καὶ πάσας τὰς τοιαύτας ἐναντιότητας ὑπὲρ συμφωνίας τῶν ὅλων ἡμῶν θʼ ἑκάστῳ σῶμα καὶ μέρη τοῦ σώματος καὶ κτῆσιν καὶ κοινωνοὺς ἔδωκεν. ταύτης οὖν τῆς διατάξεως μεμνημένους ἔρχεσθαι δεῖ ἐπὶ τὸ παιδεύεσθαι, οὐχ ἵνʼ ἀλλάξωμεν τὰς ὑποθέσεις (οὔτε γὰρ δίδοται ἡμῖν οὔτʼ ἄμεινον), ἀλλʼ ἵνα οὕτως ἐχόντων τῶν περὶ ἡμᾶς ὡς ἔχει καὶ πέφυκεν αὐτοὶ τὴν γνώμην τὴν αὑτῶν συνηρμοσμένην τοῖς γινομένοις ἔχωμεν. τί γάρ; ἐνδέχεται φυγεῖν ἀνθρώπους; καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε; ἀλλὰ συνόντας αὐτοῖς ἐκείνους ἀλλάξαι; καὶ τίς ἡμῖν δίδωσιν; τί οὖν ἀπολείπεται ἢ τίς εὑρίσκεται μηχανὴ πρὸς τὴν χρῆσιν αὐτῶν; τοιαύτη, διʼ ἧς ἐκεῖνοι μὲν ποιήσουσι τὰ φαινόμενα αὐτοῖς, ἡμεῖς δʼ οὐδὲν ἧττον κατὰ φύσιν ἕξομεν. σὺ δʼ ἀταλαίπωρος εἶ καὶ δυσάρεστος κἂν μὲν μόνος ᾖς, ἐρημίαν καλεῖς τοῦτο, ἂν δὲ μετὰ ἀνθρώπων, ἐπιβούλους λέγεις καὶ λῃστάς, μέμφῃ δὲ καὶ γονεῖς τοὺς σεαυτοῦ καὶ τέκνα καὶ ἀδελφοὺς καὶ γείτονας. ἔδει δὲ μόνον μένοντα ἡσυχίαν καλεῖν αὐτὸ καὶ ἐλευθερίαν καὶ ὅμοιον τοῖς θεοῖς ἡγεῖσθαι αὑτόν, μετὰ πολλῶν δʼ ὄντα μὴ ὄχλον καλεῖν μηδὲ θόρυβον μηδʼ ἀηδίαν, ἀλλʼ ἑορτὴν καὶ πανήγυριν καὶ οὕτως πάντα εὐαρέστως δέχεσθαι. τίς οὖν ἡ κόλασις τοῖς οὐ προσδεχομένοις; τὸ οὕτως ἔχειν ὡς ἔχουσιν. δυσαρεστεῖ τις τῷ μόνος εἶναι; ἔστω ἐν ἐρημίᾳ. δυσαρεστεῖ τις τοῖς γονεῦσιν; ἔστω κακὸς υἱὸς καὶ πενθείτω. δυσαρεστεῖ τοῖς τέκνοις; ἔστω κακὸς πατήρ. βάλε αὐτὸν εἰς φυλακήν. ποίαν φυλακήν; ὅπου νῦν ἐστιν. ἄκων γάρ ἐστιν· ὅπου δέ τις ἄκων ἐστίν, ἐκεῖνο φυλακὴ αὐτῷ ἐστιν. καθὸ καὶ Σωκράτης οὐκ ἦν ἐν φυλακῇ, ἑκὼν γὰρ ἦν. σκέλος οὖν μοι γενέσθαι πεπηρωμένον. ἀνδράποδον, εἶτα διʼ ἓν σκελύδριον τῷ κόσμῳ ἐγκαλεῖς; οὐκ ἐπιδώσεις αὐτὸ τοῖς ὅλοις; οὐκ ἀποστήσῃ; οὐ χαίρων παραχωρήσεις τῷ δεδωκότι; ἀγανακτήσεις δὲ καὶ δυσαρεστήσεις τοῖς ὑπὸ τοῦ Διὸς διατεταγμένοις, ἃ ἐκεῖνος μετὰ τῶν Μοιρῶν παρουσῶν καὶ ἐπικλωθουσῶν σου τὴν γένεσιν ὥρισεν καὶ διέταξεν; οὐκ οἶσθα[ς], ἡλίκον μέρος πρὸς τὰ ὅλα; τοῦτο δὲ κατὰ τὸ σῶμα, ὡς κατά γε τὸν λόγον οὐδὲν χείρων τῶν θεῶν οὐδὲ μικρότερος· λόγου γὰρ μέγεθος οὐ μήκει οὐδʼ ὕψει κρίνεται, ἀλλὰ δόγμασιν. οὐ θέλεις οὖν, καθʼ ἃ ἴσος εἶ τοῖς θεοῖς, ἐκεῖ που τίθεσθαι τὸ ἀγαθόν; τάλας ἐγώ, τὸν πατέρα ἔχω τοιοῦτον καὶ τὴν μητέρα. τί οὖν; ἐδίδοτό σοι προελθόντι ἐκλέξασθαι καὶ εἰπεῖν ὁ δεῖνα τῇ δεῖνι συνελθέτω τῇδε τῇ ὥρᾳ, ἵνα ἐγὼ γένωμαι; οὐκ ἐδίδοτο. ἀλλʼ ἔδει προυποστῆναί σου τοὺς γονεῖς, εἶτα οὕτως γεννηθῆναι. ἐκ ποίων τινῶν; ἐκ τοιούτων, ὁποῖοι ἦσαν. τί οὖν; τοιούτων αὐτῶν ὄντων οὐδεμία σοι δίδοται μηχανή; εἶτʼ εἰ μὲν τὴν ὁρατικὴν δύναμιν ἠγνόεις πρὸς τί κέκτησαι, δυστυχὴς ἂν ἦς καὶ ἄθλιος, εἰ κατέμυες, προσαγόντων σοι τῶν χρωμάτων· ὅτι δὲ μεγαλοψυχίαν ἔχων καὶ γενναιότητα πρὸς ἕκαστα τούτων ἀγνοεῖς, οὐ δυστυχέστερος εἶ καὶ ἀθλιώτερος; προσάγεταί σοι τὰ κατάλληλα τῇ δυνάμει ἣν ἔχεις· σὺ δʼ αὐτὴν τότε μάλιστα ἀποστρέφεις, ὁπότε ἠνοιγμένην καὶ βλέπουσαν ἔχειν ἔδει. οὐ μᾶλλον εὐχαριστεῖς τοῖς θεοῖς, ὅτι σε ἐπάνω τούτων ἀφῆκαν ὅσα μηδʼ ἐποίησαν ἐπὶ σοί, μόνον δʼ ὑπεύθυνον ἀπέφηναν τῶν ἐπὶ σοί; γονέων ἕνεκα ἀνυπεύθυνον ἀφῆκαν· ἀδελφῶν ἕνεκα ἀφῆκαν, σώματος ἕνεκα ἀφῆκαν, κτήσεως, θανάτου, ζωῆς. τίνος οὖν ὑπεύθυνόν σε ἐποίησαν; τοῦ μόνου ὄντος ἐπὶ σοί, χρήσεως οἵας δεῖ φαντασιῶν. τί οὖν ἐπισπᾷς σεαυτῷ ταῦτα ὧν ἀνυπεύθυνος εἶ; τοῦτό ἐστιν ἑαυτῷ παρέχειν πράγματα.

[¶6] 13. When a person inquired how any one might eat to the divine acceptance, If he eats with justice, said Epictetus, and with gratitude, and fairly, and temperately, and decently, must he not also eat to the divine acceptance? And if you call for hot water, and your servant does not hear you, or, if he does, brings it only warm, or perhaps is not to be found at home, then to abstain from anger or petulance, is not this to the divine acceptance? “But how is it possible to bear such things?” O slavish man! will you not bear with your own brother, who has God for his Father, as being a son from the same stock, and of the same high descent? But if you chance to be placed in some superior station, will you presently set yourself up for a tyrant? Will you not remember what you are, and over whom you bear rule,—that they are by nature your relations, your brothers; that they are the offspring of God? “But I have them by right of purchase, and not they me.” Do you see what it is you regard? Your regards look downward towards the earth, and what is lower than earth, and towards the unjust laws of men long dead; but up towards the divine laws you never turn your eyes.

> Greek: 13. πυθομένου δέ τινος, πῶς ἔστιν ἐσθίειν ἀρεστῶς θεοῖς, Εἰ δικαίως ἔστιν, ἔφη, καὶ εὐγνωμόνως καὶ ἴσως ἐγκρατῶς καὶ κοσμίως, οὐκ ἔστι καὶ ἀρεστῶς τοῖς θεοῖς; ὅταν δὲ θερμὸν αἰτήσαντός σου μὴ ὑπακούσῃ ὁ παῖς ἢ ὑπακούσας χλιαρώτερον ἐνέγκῃ ἢ μηδʼ εὑρεθῇ ἐν τῇ οἰκίᾳ, τὸ μὴ χαλεπαίνειν μηδὲ ῥήγνυσθαι οὐκ ἔστιν ἀρεστὸν τοῖς θεοῖς; — πῶς οὖν τις ἀνάσχηται τῶν τοιούτων; — ἀνδράποδον, οὐκ ἀνέξῃ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ τοῦ σαυτοῦ, ὃς ἔχει τὸν Δία πρόγονον, ὥσπερ υἱὸς ἐκ τῶν αὐτῶν σπερμάτων γέγονεν καὶ τῆς αὐτῆς ἄνωθεν καταβολῆς, ἀλλʼ εἰ ἔν τινι τοιαύτῃ χώρᾳ κατετάγης ὑπερεχούσῃ, εὐθὺς τύραννον καταστήσεις σεαυτόν; οὐ μεμνήσῃ τί εἶ καὶ τίνων ἄρχεις; ὅτι συγγενῶν, ὅτι ἀδελφῶν φύσει, ὅτι τοῦ Διὸς ἀπογόνων; — ἀλλʼ ὠνὴν αὐτῶν ἔχω, ἐκεῖνοι δʼ ἐμοῦ οὐκ ἔχουσιν. — ὁρᾷς ποῦ βλέπεις; ὅτι εἰς τὴν γῆν, ὅτι εἰς τὸ βάραθρον, ὅτι εἰς τοὺς ταλαιπώρους τούτους νόμους τοὺς τῶν νεκρῶν, εἰς δὲ τοὺς τῶν θεῶν οὐ βλέπεις;

[¶7] 14. When a person asked him, how any one might be convinced that his every act is under the supervision of God? Do not you think, said Epictetus, that all things are mutually connected and united? “I do.” Well; and do not you think that things on earth feel the influence of the heavenly powers? “Yes.” Else how is it that in their season, as if by express command, God bids the plants to blossom and they blossom, to bud and they bud, to bear fruit and they bear it, to ripen it and they ripen; and when again he bids them drop their leaves, and withdrawing into themselves to rest and wait, they rest and wait? Whence again are there seen, on the increase and decrease of the moon, and the approach and departure of the sun, so great changes and transformations in earthly things? Have, then, the very leaves, and our own bodies, this connection and sympathy with the whole, and have not our souls much more? But our souls are thus connected and intimately joined to God, as being indeed members and distinct portions of his essence; and must he not be sensible of every movement of them, as belonging and connatural to himself? Can even you think of the divine administration, and every other divine subject, and together with these of human affairs also; can you at once receive impressions on your senses and your understanding from a thousand objects; at once assent to some things, deny or suspend your judgment concerning others, and preserve in your mind impressions from so many and various objects, by whose aid you can revert to ideas similar to those which first impressed you? Can you retain a variety of arts and the memorials of ten thousand things? And is not God capable of surveying all things, and being present with all, and in communication with all? Is the sun capable of illuminating so great a portion of the universe, and of leaving only that small part of it unilluminated, which is covered by the shadow of the earth, and cannot He who made and moves the sun, a small part of himself, if compared with the whole,—cannot he perceive all things? “But I cannot,” say you, “attend to all things at once.” Who asserts that you have equal power with Zeus? Nevertheless, he has assigned to each man a director, his own good genius, and committed him to that guardianship,—a director sleepless and not to be deceived. To what better and more careful guardian could he have committed each one of us? So that when you have shut your doors, and darkened your room, remember never to say that you are alone; for you are not alone, but God is within, and your genius is within; and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To this God you likewise ought to swear such an oath as the soldiers do to Caesar. For they, in order to receive their pay, swear to prefer before all things the safety of Caesar; and will you not swear, who have received so many and so great favors; or, if you have sworn, will you not fulfil the oath? And what must you swear? Never to distrust, nor accuse, nor murmur at any of the things appointed by him; nor to shrink from doing or enduring that which is inevitable. Is this oath like the former In the first oath persons swear never to dishonor Caesar: by the last. never to dishonor themselves.

> Greek: 14. πυθομένου δέ τινος, πῶς ἄν τις πεισθείη, ὅτι ἕκαστον τῶν ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ πραττομένων ἐφορᾶται ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ, Οὐ δοκεῖ σοι, ἔφη, ἡνῶσθαι τὰ πάντα; — δοκεῖ, ἔφη. — τί δέ; συμπαθεῖν τὰ ἐπίγεια τοῖς οὐρανίοις οὐ δοκεῖ σοι; — δοκεῖ, ἔφη. — πόθεν γὰρ οὕτω τεταγμένως καθάπερ ἐκ προστάγματος τοῦ θεοῦ, ὅταν ἐκεῖνος εἴπῃ τοῖς φυτοῖς ἀνθεῖν, ἀνθεῖ, ὅταν εἴπῃ βλαστάνειν, βλαστάνει, ὅταν ἐκφέρειν τὸν καρπόν, ἐκφέρει, ὅταν πεπαίνειν, πεπαίνει, ὅταν πάλιν ἀποβάλλειν καὶ φυλλορροεῖν καὶ αὐτὰ εἰς αὑτὰ συνειλούμενα ἐφʼ ἡσυχίας μένειν καὶ ἀναπαύεσθαι, μένει καὶ ἀναπαύεται; πόθεν δὲ πρὸς τὴν αὔξησιν καὶ μείωσιν τῆς σελήνης καὶ τὴν τοῦ ἡλίου πρόσοδον καὶ ἄφοδον τοσαύτη παραλλαγὴ καὶ ἐπὶ τὰ ἐναντία μεταβολὴ τῶν ἐπιγείων θεωρεῖται; ἀλλὰ τὰ φυτὰ μὲν καὶ τὰ ἡμέτερα σώματα οὕτως ἐνδέδεται τοῖς ὅλοις καὶ συμπέπονθεν, αἱ ψυχαὶ δʼ αἱ ἡμέτεραι οὐ πολὺ πλέον; ἀλλʼ αἱ ψυχαὶ μὲν οὕτως εἰσὶν ἐνδεδεμέναι καὶ συναφεῖς τῷ θεῷ ἅτε αὐτοῦ μόρια οὖσαι καὶ ἀποσπάσματα, οὐ παντὸς δʼ αὐτῶν κινήματος ἅτε οἰκείου καὶ συμφυοῦς ὁ θεὸς αἰσθάνεται; ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν περὶ τῆς θείας διοικήσεως καὶ περὶ ἑκάστου τῶν θείων, ὁμοῦ δὲ καὶ περὶ τῶν ἀνθρωπίνων πραγμάτων ἐνθυμεῖσθαι δύνασαι καὶ ἅμα μὲν αἰσθητικῶς ἀπὸ μυρίων πραγμάτων κινεῖσθαι, ἅμα δὲ διανοητικῶς, ἅμα δὲ συγκαταθετικῶς, τοῖς δʼ ἀνανευστικῶς ἢ ἐφεκτικῶς, τύπους δὲ τοσούτους ἀφʼ οὕτω πολλῶν καὶ ποικίλων πραγμάτων ἐν τῇ σαυτοῦ ψυχῇ φυλάττεις καὶ ἀπʼ αὐτῶν κινούμενος εἰς ἐπινοίας ὁμοειδεῖς ἐμπίπτεις τοῖς πρώτως τετυπωκόσι τέχνας τʼ ἄλλην ἐπʼ ἄλλῃ καὶ μνήμας ἀπὸ μυρίων πραγμάτων διασῴζεις· ὁ δὲ θεὸς οὐχ οἷός τʼ ἐστὶ πάντα ἐφορᾶν καὶ πᾶσιν συμπαρεῖναι καὶ ἀπὸ πάντων τινὰ ἴσχειν διάδοσιν; ἀλλὰ φωτίζειν οἷός τʼ ἐστὶν ὁ ἥλιος τηλικοῦτον μέρος τοῦ παντός, ὀλίγον δὲ τὸ ἀφώτιστον ἀπολιπεῖν ὅσον οἷόν τʼ ἐπέχεσθαι ὑπὸ σκιᾶς, ἣν ἡ γῆ ποιεῖ· ὁ δὲ καὶ τὸν ἥλιον αὐτὸν πεποιηκὼς καὶ περιάγων μέρος ὄντʼ αὐτοῦ μικρὸν ὡς πρὸς τὸ ὅλον, οὗτος δʼ οὐ δύναται πάντων αἰσθάνεσθαι; ἀλλʼ ἐγώ, φησίν, οὐ δύναμαι πᾶσιν ἅμα τούτοις παρακολουθεῖν. — τοῦτο δέ σοι καὶ λέγει τις, ὅτι ἴσην ἔχεις δύναμιν τῷ Διί; ἀλλʼ οὖν οὐδὲν ἧττον καὶ ἐπίτροπον ἑκάστῳ παρέστησεν τὸν ἑκάστου δαίμονα καὶ παρέδωκεν φυλάσσειν αὐτὸν αὐτῷ καὶ τοῦτον ἀκοίμητον καὶ ἀπαραλόγιστον. τίνι γὰρ ἄλλῳ κρείττονι καὶ ἐπιμελεστέρῳ φύλακι παρέδωκεν ἡμῶν ἕκαστον; ὥσθʼ, ὅταν κλείσητε τὰς θύρας καὶ σκότος ἔνδον ποιήσητε, μέμνησθε μηδέποτε λέγειν ὅτι μόνοι ἐστέ· οὐ γὰρ ἐστέ, ἀλλʼ ὁ θεὸς ἔνδον ἐστὶ καὶ ὁ ὑμέτερος δαίμων ἐστίν. καὶ τίς τούτοις χρεία φωτὸς εἰς τὸ βλέπειν τί ποιεῖτε; τούτῳ τῷ θεῷ ἔδει καὶ ὑμᾶς ὀμνύειν ὅρκον, οἷον οἱ στρατιῶται τῷ Καίσαρι. ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνοι μὲν τὴν μισθοφορίαν λαμβάνοντες ὀμνύουσιν πάντων προτιμήσειν τὴν τοῦ Καίσαρος σωτηρίαν, ὑμεῖς δὲ δε τοσούτων καὶ τηλικούτων ἠξιωμένοι οὐκ ὀμόσετε ἢ ὀμόσαντες οὐκ ἐμμενεῖτε; καὶ τί ὀμόσετε; μὴ ἀπειθήσειν μηδέποτε μηδʼ ἐγκαλέσειν μηδὲ μέμψεσθαί τινι τῶν ὑπʼ ἐκείνου δεδομένων μηδʼ ἄκοντες ποιήσειν τι ἢ πείσεσθαι τῶν ἀναγκαίων. ὅμοιός γε ὅρκος οὗτος ἐκείνῳ; ἐκεῖ μὲν ὀμνύουσιν αὐτοῦ μὴ προτιμήσειν ἕτερον, ἐνταῦθα δʼ αὑτοὺς ἁπάντων.

[¶8] 15. When one consulted him, how he might persuade his brother to forbear treating him ill, Philosophy, answered Epictetus, does not promise to procure any outward good for man; otherwise it would include something beyond its proper theme. For as the material of a carpenter is wood; of a statuary, brass; so of the art of living, the material is each man’s own life. “What, then, is my brother’s life?” That, again, is matter for his own art, but is external to you; like property, health, or reputation. Philosophy undertakes none of these. In every circumstance I will keep my will in harmony with nature. To whom belongs that will? To Him in whom I exist. “But how, then, is my brother’s unkindness to be cured?” Bring him to me, and I will tell him; but I have nothing to say to you about his unkindness. But the inquirer still further asking for a rule for self-government, if he should not be reconciled, Epictetus answered thus,— No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer you, that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. Since, then, the fruit of a fig-tree is not brought to perfection suddenly, or in one hour, do you think to possess instantaneously and easily the fruit of the human mind? I warn you, expect it not.

> Greek: 15. συμβουλευομένου τινός, πῶς τὸν ἀδελφὸν πείσῃ μηκέτι χαλεπῶς αὐτῷ ἔχειν, οὐκ ἐπαγγέλλεται, ἔφη, φιλοσοφία τῶν ἐκτός τι περιποιήσειν τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ· εἰ δὲ μή, ἔξω τι τῆς ἰδίας ὕλης ἀναδέξεται. ὡς γὰρ τέκτονος ὕλη τὰ ξύλα, ἀνδριαντοποιοῦ ὁ χαλκός, οὕτως τῆς περὶ βίον τέχνης ὕλη ὁ βίος αὐτοῦ ἑκάστου. — τί οὖν ὁ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ; — πάλιν τῆς αὐτοῦ ἐκείνου τέχνης ἐστίν, πρὸς δὲ τὴν σὴν τῶν ἐκτός ἐστιν, ὅμοιον ἀγρῷ, ὅμοιον ὑγείᾳ, ὅμοιον εὐδοξίᾳ. τούτων δʼ οὐδὲν ἐπαγγέλλεται· φιλοσοφία. ἐν πάσῃ περιστάσει τηρήσω τὸ ἡγεμονικὸν κατὰ φύσιν ἔχον. — τὸ τίνος; — τὸ ἐκείνου, ἐν ᾧ εἰμί. — πῶς οὖν ἐκεῖνός μοι μὴ ὀργίζηται; — φέρε μοι ἐκεῖνον κἀκείνῳ ἐρῶ, σοὶ δὲ περὶ τῆς ἐκείνου ὀργῆς οὐδὲν ἔχω λέγειν. εἰπόντος δὲ τοῦ συμβουλευομένου ὅτι Τοῦτο ζητῶ, πῶς ἂν ἐκείνου καὶ μὴ διαλλασσομένου κατὰ φύσιν ἔχοιμι, οὐδέν, ἔφη, τῶν μεγάλων ἄφνω γίνεται, ὅπου γε οὐδʼ ὁ βότρυς οὐδὲ σῦκον. ἄν μοι νῦν λέγῃς ὅτι θέλω σῦκον, ἀποκρινοῦμαί σοι ὅτι χρόνου δεῖ. ἄφες ἀνθήσῃ πρῶτον, εἶτα προβάλῃ τὸν καρπόν, εἶτα πεπανθῇ. εἶτα συκῆς μὲν καρπὸς ἄφνω καὶ μιᾷ ὥρᾳ οὐ τελειοῦται, γνώμης δʼ ἀνθρώπου καρπὸν θέλεις οὕτως διʼ ὀλίγου καὶ εὐκόλως κτήσασθαι; μηδʼ ἂν ἐγώ σοι λέγω, προσδόκα.

[¶9] 16. Be not surprised if other animals have all things necessary to the body ready provided for them, not only meat and drink, but lodging; if they want neither shoes nor bedding nor clothes, while we stand in need of all these. For they not being made for themselves, but for service, it was not fit that they should be so formed as to be waited on by others. For consider what it would be for us to take care, not only for ourselves, but for sheep and asses too,—how they should be clothed, how shod, and how they should eat and drink. But as soldiers are furnished ready for their commander, shod, clothed, and armed,—for it would be a grievous thing for a colonel to be obliged to go through his regiment to put on their clothes,—so nature has furnished these useful animals, ready provided, and standing in need of no further care; so that one little boy, with only a crook, drives a flock. But we, instead of being thankful for this, complain of God that there is not the same kind of care taken of us likewise; and yet, good Heaven! any one thing in the creation is sufficient to demonstrate a Providence, to a humble and grateful mind. Not to instance great things, the mere possibility of producing milk from grass, cheese from milk, and wool from skins,—who formed and planned this? No one, say you. O surprising irreverence and dulness! But come, let us omit the primary works of nature; let us contemplate her merely incidental traits. What is more useless than the hairs upon one’s chin? And yet has she not made use even of these, in the most becoming manner possible? Has she not by these distinguished the sexes? Does not nature in each of us call out, even at a distance, I am a man; approach and address me as such; inquire no further; see the characteristic? On the other hand, with regard to women, as she has mixed something softer in their voice, so she has deprived them of a beard. But no; [some think] this living being should have been left undistinguished, and each of us should be obliged to proclaim, “I am a man!” But why is not this characteristic beautiful and becoming and venerable? How much more beautiful than the comb of cocks; how much more noble than the mane of lions! Therefore we ought to preserve the characteristics made by the Creator; we ought not to reject them, nor confound, as much as in us lies, the distinct sexes. Are these the only works of Providence with regard to us? And what speech can fitly celebrate their praise? For, if we had any understanding, ought we not, both in public and in private, incessantly to sing and praise the Deity, and rehearse his benefits? Ought we not, whether we dig or plough or eat, to sing this hymn to God,—Great is God, who has supplied us with these instruments to till the ground; great is God, who has given us hands and organs of digestion; who has given us to grow insensibly, to breathe in sleep? These things we ought forever to celebrate; and to make it the theme of the greatest and divinest hymn, that he has given us the power to appreciate these gifts, and to use them well. But because the most of you are blind and insensible, there must be some one to fill this station, and lead, in behalf of all men, the hymn to God; for what else can I do, a lame old man, but sing hymns to God? Were I a nightingale, I would act the part of a nightingale were I a swan, the part of a swan; but since I am a reasonable creature, it is my duty to praise God. This is my business; I do it; nor will I ever desert this post, so long as it is permitted me; and I call on you to join in the same song.

> Greek: 16. μὴ θαυμάζετʼ εἰ τοῖς μὲν ἄλλοις ζῴοις τὰ πρὸς τὸ σῶμα ἕτοιμα γέγονεν, οὐ μόνον τροφαὶ καὶ πόμα, ἀλλὰ καὶ κοίτη καὶ τὸ μὴ δεῖσθαι ὑποδημάτων, μὴ ὑποστρωμάτων, μὴ ἐσθῆτος, ἡμεῖς δὲ πάντων τούτων προσδεόμεθα. τὰ γὰρ οὐκ αὐτῶν ἕνεκα, ἀλλὰ πρὸς ὑπηρεσίαν γεγονότα οὐκ ἐλυσιτέλει προσδεόμενα ἄλλων πεποιηκέναι. ἐπεὶ ὅρα οἷον ἦν ἡμᾶς φροντίζειν μὴ περὶ αὑτῶν μόνον ἀλλὰ καὶ περὶ τῶν προβάτων καὶ τῶν ὄνων, πῶς ἐνδύσηται καὶ πῶς ὑποδήσηται, πῶς φάγῃ, πῶς πίῃ. ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ οἱ στρατιῶται ἕτοιμοί εἰσι τῷ στρατηγῷ ὑποδεδεμένοι ἐνδεδυμένοι ὡπλισμένοι, εἰ δʼ ἔδει περιερχόμενον τὸν χιλίαρχον ὑποδεῖν ἢ ἐνδύειν τοὺς χιλίους, δεινὸν ἂν ἦν, οὕτω καὶ ἡ φύσις πεποίηκε τὰ πρὸς ὑπηρεσίαν γεγονότα ἕτοιμα παρεσκευασμένα μηδεμιᾶς ἐπιμελείας ἔτι προσδεόμενα. οὕτως ἓν παιδίον μικρὸν καὶ ῥάβδῳ ἐλαύνει τὰ πρόβατα. νῦν δʼ ἡμεῖς ἀφέντες ἐπὶ τούτοις εὐχαριστεῖν, ὅτι μὴ καὶ αὐτῶν τὴν ἴσην ἐπιμέλειαν ἐπιμελούμεθα, ἐφʼ αὑτοῖς ἐγκαλοῦμεν τῷ θεῷ. καίτοι νὴ τὸν Δία καὶ τοὺς θεοὺς ἓν τῶν γεγονότων ἀπήρκει πρὸς τὸ αἰσθέσθαι τῆς προνοίας τῷ γε αἰδήμονι καὶ εὐχαρίστῳ. καὶ μή μοι νῦν τὰ μεγάλα· αὐτὸ τοῦτο τὸ ἐκ π[τ]όας γάλα γεννᾶσθαι καὶ ἐκ γάλακτος τυρὸν καὶ ἐκ δέρματος ἔρια τίς ἐστιν ὁ πεποιηκὼς ταῦτα ἢ ἐπινενοηκώς; οὐδὲ εἷς φησίν. ὦ μεγάλης ἀναισθησίας καὶ ἀναισχυντίας. ἄγε ἀφῶμεν τὰ ἔργα τῆς φύσεως, τὰ πάρεργα αὐτῆς θεασώμεθα. μή τι ἀχρηστότερον τριχῶν τῶν ἐπὶ γενείου; τί οὖν; οὐ συνεχρήσατο καὶ ταύταις ὡς μάλιστα πρεπόντως ἐδύνατο; οὐ διέκρινεν διʼ αὐτῶν τὸ ἄρρεν καὶ τὸ θῆλυ; οὐκ εὐθὺς μακρόθεν κέκραγεν ἡμῶν ἑκάστου ἡ φύσις ἀνήρ εἰμι· οὕτω μοι προσέρχου, οὕτω μοι λάλει, ἄλλο μηδὲν ζήτει· ἰδοὺ τὰ σύμβολα; πάλιν ἐπὶ τῶν γυναικῶν ὥσπερ ἐν φωνῇ τι ἐγκατέμιξεν ἁπαλώτερον, οὕτως καὶ τὰς τρίχας ἀφεῖλεν. οὔ· ἀλλʼ ἀδιάκριτον ἔδει τὸ ζῷον ἀπολειφθῆναι καὶ κηρύσσειν ἕκαστον ἡμῶν ὅτι ἀνήρ εἰμι. πῶς δὲ καλὸν τὸ σύμβολον καὶ εὐπρεπὲς καὶ σεμνόν, πόσῳ κάλλιον τοῦ τῶν ἀλεκτρυόνων λόφου, πόσῳ μεγαλοπρεπέστερον τῆς χαίτης τῶν λεόντων. διὰ τοῦτο ἔδει σῴζειν τὰ σύμβολα τοῦ θεοῦ, ἔδει αὐτὰ μὴ καταπροίεσθαι, μὴ συγχεῖν ὅσον ἐφʼ ἑαυτοῖς τὰ γένη τὰ διῃρημένα. ταῦτα μόνα ἐστὶν ἔργα ἐφʼ ἡμῶν τῆς προνοίας; καὶ τίς ἐξαρκεῖ λόγος ὁμοίως αὐτὰ ἐπαινέσαι ἢ παραστῆσαι; εἰ γὰρ νοῦν εἴχομεν, ἄλλο τι ἔδει ἡμᾶς ποιεῖν καὶ κοινῇ καὶ ἰδίᾳ ἢ ὑμνεῖν τὸ θεῖον καὶ εὐφημεῖν καὶ ἐπεξέρχεσθαι τὰς χάριτας; οὐκ ἔδει καὶ σκάπτοντας καὶ ἀροῦντας καὶ ἐσθίοντας ᾁδειν τὸν ὕμνον τὸν εἰς τὸν θεόν; μέγας ὁ θεὸς, ὅτι ἡμῖν παρέσχεν ὄργανα ταῦτα διʼ ὧν τὴν γῆν ἐργασόμεθα· μέγας ὁ θεός, ὅτι χεῖρας δέδωκεν, ὅτι κατάποσιν, ὅτι κοιλίαν, ὅτι αὔξεσθαι λεληθότως, ὅτι καθεύδοντας ἀναπνεῖν. ταῦτα ἐφʼ ἑκάστου ἐφυμνεῖν ἔδει καὶ τὸν μέγιστον καὶ θειότατον ὕμνον ἐφυμνεῖν, ὅτι τὴν δύναμιν ἔδωκεν τὴν παρακολουθητικὴν τούτοις καὶ ὁδῷ χρηστικήν. τί οὖν; ἐπεὶ οἱ πολλοὶ ἀποτετύφλωσθε, οὐκ ἔδει τινὰ εἶναι τὸν ταύτην ἐκπληροῦντα τὴν χώραν καὶ ὑπὲρ πάντων ᾁδοντα τὸν ὕμνον τὸν εἰς τὸν θεόν; τί γὰρ ἄλλο δύναμαι γέρων χωλὸς εἰ μὴ ὑμνεῖν τὸν θεόν; εἰ γοῦν ἀηδὼν ἤμην, ἐποίουν τὰ τῆς ἀηδόνος, εἰ κύκνος, τὰ τοῦ κύκνου. νῦν δὲ λογικός εἰμι· ὑμνεῖν με δεῖ τὸν θεόν. τοῦτό μου τὸ ἔργον ἐστίν, ποιῶ αὐτὸ οὐδʼ ἐγκαταλείψω τὴν τάξιν ταύτην, ἐφʼ ὅσον ἂν διδῶται, καὶ ὑμᾶς ἐπὶ τὴν αὐτὴν ταύτην ᾠδὴν παρακαλῶ.

[¶10] 17. Since it is Reason which shapes and regulates all other things, it ought not itself to be left in disorder; but by what shall it be regulated? Evidently, either by itself, or by something else. Well, either that too is Reason, or something else superior to Reason, which is impossible; and if it be Reason, what again shall regulate that? For if this Reason can regulate itself, so can the former; and if we still require any further agent, the series will be infinite and without end. “But,” say you, “the essential thing is to prescribe for qualities of character.” Would you hear about these, therefore? Well, hear. But then, if you say to me that you cannot tell whether my arguments are true or false, and if I happen to express myself ambiguously, and you bid me make it clearer, I will then at once show you that this is the first essential. Therefore, I suppose, they first establish the art of reasoning,—just as before the measuring of corn, we settle the measure; for, unless we first determine the measure and the weight, how shall we be able to measure or weigh? Thus, in the present case, unless we have first learned and fixed that which is the criterion of other things, and by which other things are learned, how shall we be able accurately to learn anything else? How is it possible? Well, a bushel-measure is only wood, a thing of no value, but it measures corn; and logic is of no value in itself. That we will consider hereafter, but grant it now; it is enough that it distinguishes and examines, and, as one may say, measures and weighs all other things. Who says this? Is it only Chrysippus, and Zeno, and Cleanthes? Does not Antisthenes say it? And who is it, then, who has written that the beginning of a right education is the examination of words? Does not Socrates say it? Of whom, then, does Xenophon write, that he began by the examination of words, what each signified? Is this, then, the great and admirable thing, to understand or interpret Chrysippus? Who says that it is? But what, then, is the admirable thing? To understand the will of nature. Well, then; do you conform to it yourself? In that case, what need have you for any one else? For if it be true that men err but unwillingly, and if you have learnt the truth, you must needs act rightly. But, indeed, I do not conform to the will of nature. Who, then, shall interpret that? They say, Chrysippus. I go and inquire what this interpreter of nature says. Soon I cannot understand his meaning; I seek one to interpret that. I call on him to explain everything as clearly as if it were in Latin. Yet what right has this last interpreter to boast? Nor has Chrysippus himself, so long as he only interprets the will of nature, and does not follow it; and much less has his interpreter. For we have no need of Chrysippus on his own account; but that, by his means, we may apprehend the will of nature; just as no one values a diviner on his own account, but that, by his assistance, men hope to understand future events and heavenly indications; nor the auguries, on their own account, but on account of what is signified by them; neither is it the raven, or the crow, that is admired, but the divine purposes displayed through their means. Thus I come to the diviner and interpreter of these higher things, and say, “Inspect the auguries for me: what is signified for me?” Having taken, and inspected them, he thus interprets them: You have a free will, O man! incapable of being restrained or compelled. This is written here in the auguries. I will show you this, first, in the faculty of assent. Can any one restrain you from assenting to truth? No one. Can any one compel you to admit a falsehood? No one. You see, then, that you have here a free will, incapable of being restrained, or compelled, or hindered. Well, is it otherwise with regard to pursuit and desire? What can displace one pursuit. Another pursuit. What [can displace] desire and aversion? Another desire and another aversion. “If you offer death as an alternative,” say you, you compel me. No, not the alternative does it, but your conviction that it is better to do such a thing than to die. Here, again, you see that it is your own conviction which compels you,—that is, choice compels choice; for if God had constituted that portion which he has separated from his own essence, and given to us, capable of being restrained or compelled, either by himself, or by any other, he would not have been God, nor have fitly cared for us. These things, says the diviner, I find in the auguries. These things are announced to you. If you please, you are free. If you please, you will have no one to complain of, no one to accuse. All will be equally according to your own mind, and to the mind of God. For the sake of this oracle, I go to this diviner and philosopher; admiring not alone him for his interpretation, but also the things which he interprets.

> Greek: 17. ἐπειδὴ λόγος ἐστὶν ὁ διαρθρῶν καὶ ἐξεργαζόμενος τὰ λοιπά, ἔδει δʼ αὐτὸν μὴ ἀδιάρθρωτον εἶναι, ὑπὸ τίνος διαρθρωθῇ; δῆλον γὰρ ὅτι ἢ ὑφʼ αὑτοῦ ἢ ὑπʼ ἄλλου. ἤ τοι λόγος ἐστὶν ἐκεῖνος ἢ ἄλλο τι κρεῖσσον ἔσται τοῦ λόγου, ὅπερ ἀδύνατον. εἰ λόγος, ἐκεῖνον πάλιν τίς διαρθρώσει; εἰ γὰρ αὐτὸς ἑαυτόν, δύναται καὶ οὗτος. εἰ ἄλλου δεησόμεθα, ἄπειρον ἔσται τοῦτο καὶ ἀκατάληκτον. [εἰ]ναί, ἀλλʼ ἐπείγει μᾶλλον θεραπεύειν καὶ τὰ ὅμοια. θέλεις οὖν περὶ ἐκείνων ἀκούειν; ἄκουε. ἀλλʼ ἄν μοι λέγῃς ὅτι οὐκ οἶδα πότερον ἀληθῶς ἢ ψευδῶς διαλέγῃ, κἄν τι κατʼ ἀμφίβολον φωνὴν εἴπω καὶ λέγῃς μοι διάστιξον, οὐκ ἔτι ἀνέξομαί σου, ἀλλʼ ἐρῶ σοι· ἀλλʼ ἐπείγει μᾶλλον. διὰ τοῦτο γὰρ οἶμαι προ[σ]τάσσουσιν τὰ λογικά, καθάπερ τῆς μετρήσεως τοῦ σίτου προτάσσομεν τὴν τοῦ μέτρου ἐπίσκεψιν. ἂν δὲ μὴ διαλάβωμεν πρῶτον τί ἐστι μόδιος μηδὲ διαλάβωμεν πρῶτον τί ἐστι ζυγός, πῶς ἔτι μετρῆσαί τι ἢ στῆσαι δυνησόμεθα; ἐνταῦθα οὖν τὸ τῶν ἄλλων κριτήριον καὶ διʼ οὗ τἆλλα καταμανθάνεται μὴ καταμεμαθηκότες μηδʼ ἠκριβωκότες δυνησόμεθά τι τῶν ἄλλων ἀκριβῶσαι καὶ καταμαθεῖν; καὶ πῶς οἷόν τε; ναί· ἀλλʼ ὁ μόδιος ξύλον ἐστὶ καὶ ἄκαρπον. ἀλλὰ μετρητικὸν σίτου. καὶ τὰ λογικὰ ἄκαρπά ἐστι. καὶ περὶ τούτου μὲν ὀψόμεθα. εἰ δʼ οὖν καὶ τοῦτο δοίη τις, ἐκεῖνο ἀπαρκεῖ ὅτι τῶν ἄλλων ἐστὶ διακριτικὰ καὶ ἐπισκεπτικὰ καὶ ὡς ἄν τις εἴποι μετρητικὰ καὶ στατικά. τίς λέγει ταῦτα; μόνος Χρύσιππος καὶ Ζήνων καὶ Κλεάνθης; Ἀντισθένης δʼ οὐ λέγει; καὶ τίς ἐστιν ὁ γεγραφὼς ὅτι ἀρχὴ παιδεύσεως ἡ τῶν ὀνομάτων ἐπίσκεψις; Σωκράτης δʼ οὐ λέγει; καὶ περὶ τίνος γράφει Ξενοφῶν, ὅτι ἤρχετο ἀπὸ τῆς τῶν ὀνομάτων ἐπισκέψεως, τί σημαίνει ἕκαστον; ἆρʼ οὖν τοῦτό ἐστι τὸ μέγα καὶ τὸ θαυμαστὸν νοῆσαι Χρύσιππον ἢ ἐξηγήσασθαι; καὶ τίς λέγει τοῦτο; τί οὖν τὸ θαυμαστόν ἐστιν; νοῆσαι τὸ βούλημα τῆς φύσεως. τί οὖν; αὐτὸς διὰ σεαυτοῦ παρακολουθεῖς; καὶ τίνος ἔτι χρείαν ἔχεις; εἰ γὰρ ἀληθές ἐστι τὸ πάντας ἄκοντας ἁμαρτάνειν, σὺ δὲ καταμεμάθηκας τὴν ἀλήθειαν, ἀνάγκη σε ἤδη κατορθοῦν. ἀλλὰ νὴ Δία οὐ παρακολουθῶ τῷ βουλήματι τῆς φύσεως. τίς οὖν ἐξηγεῖται αὐτό; λέγουσιν ὅτι Χρύσιππος. ἔρχομαι καὶ ἐπιζητῶ τί λέγει οὗτος ὁ ἐξηγητὴς τῆς φύσεως. ἄρχομαι μὴ νοεῖν τί λέγει, ζητῶ τὸν ἐξηγούμενον. ἴδε ἐπίσκεψαι, πῶς τοῦτο λέγεται, καθάπερ εἰ Ῥωμαϊστί. ποία οὖν ἐνθάδʼ ὀφρὺς τοῦ ἐξηγουμένου; οὐδʼ αὐτοῦ Χρυσίππου δικαίως, εἰ μόνον ἐξηγεῖται τὸ βούλημα τῆς φύσεως, αὐτὸς δʼ οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ· πόσῳ πλέον τοῦ ἐκεῖνον ἐξηγουμένου; οὐδὲ γὰρ Χρυσίππου χρείαν ἔχομεν διʼ αὐτόν, ἀλλʼ ἵνα παρακολουθήσωμεν τῇ φύσει. οὐδὲ γὰρ τοῦ θύτου διʼ αὐτόν, ἀλλʼ ὅτι διʼ ἐκείνου κατανοήσειν οἰόμεθα τὰ μέλλοντα καὶ σημαινόμενα ὑπὸ τῶν θεῶν, οὐδὲ τῶν σπλάγχνων διʼ αὐτά, ἀλλʼ ὅτι διʼ ἐκείνων σημαίνεται, οὐδὲ τὸν κόρακα θαυμάζομεν ἢ τὴν κορώνην, ἀλλὰ τὸν θεὸν σημαίνοντα διὰ τούτων. ἔρχομαι τοίνυν ἐπὶ τὸν ἐξηγητὴν τοῦτον καὶ θύτην καὶ λέγω ὅτι ἐπίσκεψαί μοι τὰ σπλάγχνα, τί μοι σημαίνεται. λαβὼν καὶ ἀναπτύξας ἐκεῖνος ἐξηγεῖται ὅτι ἄνθρωπε, προαίρεσιν ἔχεις ἀκώλυτον φύσει καὶ ἀνανάγκαστον. τοῦτο ἐνταῦθα ἐν τοῖς σπλάγχνοις γέγραπται. δείξω σοι αὐτὸ πρῶτον ἐπὶ τοῦ συγκαταθετικοῦ τόπου. μή τίς σε κωλῦσαι δύναται ἐπινεῦσαι ἀληθεῖ; οὐδὲ εἷς. μή τίς σε ἀναγκάσαι δύναται παραδέξασθαι τὸ ψεῦδος; οὐδὲ εἷς. ὁρᾷς ὅτι ἐν τούτῳ τῷ τόπῳ τὸ προαιρετικὸν ἔχεις ἀκώλυτον ἀνανάγκαστον ἀπαραπόδιστον; ἄγε ἐπὶ δὲ τοῦ ὀρεκτικοῦ καὶ ὁρμητικοῦ ἄλλως ἔχει; καὶ τίς ὁρμὴν νικῆσαι δύναται ἢ ἄλλη ὁρμή; τίς δʼ ὄρεξιν καὶ ἔκκλισιν ἢ ἄλλη ὄρεξις καὶ ἔκκλισις; ἄν μοι, φησί, προσάγῃ θανάτου φόβον, ἀναγκάζει με. οὐ τὸ προσαγόμενον, ἀλλʼ ὅτι δοκεῖ σοι κρεῖττον εἶναι ποιῆσαί τι τούτων ἢ ἀποθανεῖν. πάλιν οὖν τὸ σὸν δόγμα σε ἠνάγκασεν, τοῦτʼ ἔστι προαίρεσιν προαίρεσις. εἰ γὰρ τὸ ἴδιον μέρος, ὃ ἡμῖν ἔδωκεν ἀποσπάσας ὁ θεός, ὑπʼ αὐτοῦ ἢ ὑπʼ ἄλλου τινὸς κωλυτὸν ἢ ἀναγκαστὸν κατεσκευάκει, οὐκέτι ἂν ἦν θεὸς οὐδʼ ἐπεμελεῖτο ἡμῶν ὃν δεῖ τρόπον. ταῦτα εὑρίσκω, φησίν, ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς. ταῦτά σοι σημαίνεται. ἐὰν θέλῃς, ἐλεύθερος εἶ· ἐὰν θέλῃς, μέμψῃ οὐδένα, ἐγκαλέσεις οὐδενί, πάντα κατὰ γνώμην ἔσται ἅμα τὴν σὴν καὶ τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ. διὰ ταύτην τὴν μαντείαν ἔρχομαι ἐπὶ τὸν θύτην τοῦτον καὶ τὸν φιλόσοφον, οὐκ αὐτὸν θαυμάσας ἕνεκά γε τῆς ἐξηγήσεως, ἀλλὰ ἐκεῖνα ἃ ἐξηγεῖται.

[¶11] 18. If what the philosophers say be true, that all men’s actions proceed from one source; that as they assent from a persuasion that a thing is so, and dissent from a persuasion that it is not, and suspend their judgment from a persuasion that it is uncertain; so, likewise, they seek a thing from a persuasion that it is for their advantage,—and it is impossible to esteem one thing advantageous, and yet desire another; to esteem one thing a duty, and yet pursue another, why, after all, should we be angry at the multitude? “They are thieves and robbers.” What do you mean by thieves and robbers? They are in an error concerning good and evil. Ought you, then, to be angry, or rather to pity them? Do but show them their error, and you will see that they will amend their faults; but if they do not see the error, they will rise no higher than their convictions. “What, then; ought not this thief and this adulterer to be destroyed?” Nay, call him rather one who errs and is deceived in things of the greatest importance; blinded, not in the vision, that distinguishes white from black, but in the reason, that discerns good from evil. By stating your question thus, you would see how inhuman it is, and just as if you should say, “Ought not this blind or that deaf man to be destroyed?” For, if the greatest hurt be a deprivation of the most valuable things, and the most valuable thing to every one be rectitude of will; when any one is deprived of this, why, after all, are you angry? You ought not to be affected, O man! contrary to nature, by the evil deeds of another. Pity him rather. Yield not to hatred and anger; nor say, as many do, “What! shall these execrable and odious wretches dare to act thus?” Whence have you so suddenly learnt wisdom? Why are we thus enraged? Because we make idols of those things which such people take from us. Make not an idol of your clothes, and you will not be enraged with the thief. Make not an idol of a woman’s beauty, and you will not be enraged with an adulterer. Know, that thief and adulterer cannot reach the things that are properly your own; but those only which belong to others, and are not within your power. If you can give up these things, and look upon them as not essential, with whom will you any longer be enraged? But while you idolize them, be angry with yourself, rather than with others. Consider the case: you have a fine suit of clothes, your neighbor has not. You have a casement; you want to air them. He knows not in what the good of man consists, but imagines it is in a fine suit of clothes, just as you imagine. Shall he not come and take them away? When you show a cake to greedy people, and are devouring it all yourself, would you not have them snatch it from you? Do not tempt them. Do not have a casement. Do not expose your clothes. I, too, the other day, had an iron lamp burning before my household deities. Hearing a noise at the window, I ran. I found my lamp was stolen. I considered that he who took it away did nothing unaccountable. What then? I said, to-morrow you shall find an earthen one, for a man loses only what he has. “I have lost my coat.” Ay, because you had a coat. “I have a pain in my head.” You certainly can have none in your horns. Why, then, are you out of humor? For loss and pain can be only of such things as are possessed. But the tyrant will chain—what? A leg. He will take away—what? A head. What is there, then, chat he.can neither chain nor take away? The free will. Hence the advice of the ancients,—Know thyself. “What, then, ought we to do?” Practise yourself, for Heaven’s sake, in little things, and thence proceed to greater. “I have a pain in my head.” Do not lament. “I have a pain in my ear.” Do not lament. I do not say you may never groan, but do not groan in spirit; or if your servant be a long while in bringing you something to bind your head, do not croak and go into hysterics, and say, “( Everybody hates me.” For who would not hate such a one? Relying for the future on these principles, walk erect and free, not trusting to bulk of body, like a wrestler; for one should not be unconquerable in the sense that an ass is. Who, then, is unconquerable? He whom the inevitable cannot overcome. For such a person I imagine every trial, and watch him as an athlete in each. He has been victorious in the first encounter. What will he do in the second? What, if he should be exhausted by the heat? What, if the field be Olympia? And so in other trials. If you throw money in his way, he will despise it. Is he proof against the seductions of women? What if he be tested by fame. by calumny, by praise, by death? He is able to overcome them all. If he can bear sunshine and storm, discouragement and fatigue, I pronounce him an athlete unconquered indeed.

> Greek: 18. εἰ ἀληθές ἐστι τὸ ὑπὸ τῶν φιλοσόφων λεγόμενον ὅτι πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις μία ἀρχὴ καθάπερ τοῦ συγκαταθέσθαι τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι ὑπάρχει καὶ τοῦ ἀνανεῦσαι τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι οὐχ ὑπάρχει καὶ νὴ Δία τοῦ ἐπισχεῖν τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι ἄδηλόν ἐστιν, οὕτως καὶ τοῦ ὁρμῆσαι ἐπί τι τὸ παθεῖν ὅτι ἐμοὶ συμφέρει, ἀμήχανον δʼ ἄλλο μὲν κρίνειν τὸ συμφέρον, ἄλλου δʼ ὀρέγεσθαι καὶ ἄλλο μὲν κρίνειν καθῆκον, ἐπʼ ἄλλο δὲ ὁρμᾶν, τί ἔτι τοῖς πολλοῖς χαλεπαίνομεν; — κλέπται, φησίν, εἰσὶ καὶ λωποδύται. — τί ἐστι τὸ κλέπται καὶ λωποδύται; πεπλάνηνται περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν. χαλεπαίνειν οὖν δεῖ αὐτοῖς ἢ ἐλεεῖν αὐτούς; ἀλλὰ δεῖξον τὴν πλάνην καὶ ὄψει πῶς ἀφίστανται τῶν ἁμαρτημάτων. ἂν δὲ μὴ βλέπωσιν, οὐδὲν ἔχουσιν ἀνώτερον τοῦ δοκοῦντος αὐτοῖς. τοῦτον οὖν τὸν λῃστὴν καὶ τοῦτον τὸν μοιχὸν οὐκ ἔδει ἀπολωλέναι; — μηδαμῶς, ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνο μᾶλλον τοῦτον τὸν πεπλανημένον καὶ ἐξηπατημένον περὶ τῶν μεγίστων καὶ ἀποτετυφλωμένον οὐ τὴν ὄψιν τὴν διακριτικὴν τῶν λευκῶν καὶ μελάνων, ἀλλὰ τὴν γνώμην τὴν διακριτικὴν τῶν ἀγαθῶν καὶ τῶν κακῶν μὴ ἀπολλύναι; κἂν οὕτως λέγῃς, γνώσῃ πῶς ἀπάνθρωπόν ἐστιν ὃ λέγεις καὶ ὅτι ἐκείνῳ ὅμοιον τοῦτον οὖν τὸν τυφλὸν μὴ ἀπολλύναι καὶ τὸν κωφόν; εἰ γὰρ μεγίστη βλάβη ἡ τῶν μεγίστων ἀπώλειά ἐστιν, μέγιστον δʼ ἐν ἑκάστῳ προαίρεσις οἵα δεῖ καὶ τούτου στέρεταί τις, τί ἔτι χαλεπαίνεις αὐτῷ; ἄνθρωπε, εἰ σὲ δεῖ παρὰ φύσιν ἐπὶ τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις κακοῖς διατίθεσθαι, ἐλέει αὐτὸν μᾶλλον ἢ μίσει· ἄφες τοῦτο τὸ προσκοπτικὸν καὶ μισητικόν· μὴ ἐ̣ … π̣ῃς τὰς φωνὰς ταύτας ἃς οἱ πολλοὶ τῶν φ … των τούτους οὖν τοὺς καταράτους καὶ μιαροὺς … ἔστω· σὺ πῶς ποτʼ ἀπεσοφώθης ἄφνω … ν̣. ἀ̣λ̣λ̣ω̣ς̣ χαλεπὸς εἶ. διὰ τί οὖν χαλεπαίνομεν; ὅτι τὰς ὕλας θαυμάζομεν, ὧν ἡμᾶς ἀφαιροῦνται. ἐπεί τοι μὴ θαύμαζέ σου τὰ ἱμάτια καὶ τῷ κλέπτῃ οὐ χαλεπαίνεις· μὴ θαύμαζε τὸ κάλλος τῆς γυναικὸς καὶ τῷ μοιχῷ οὐ χαλεπαίνεις. γνῶθι ὅτι κλέπτης καὶ μοιχὸς ἐν τοῖς σοῖς τόπον οὐκ ἔχει, ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις καὶ τοῖς οὐκ ἐπὶ σοί. ταῦτα ἂν ἀφῇς καὶ παρὰ μηδὲν ἡγήσῃ, τίνι ἔτι χαλεπαίνεις; μέχρι δʼ ἂν ταῦτα θαυμάζῃς, σεαυτῷ χαλέπαινε μᾶλλον ἢ ἐκείνοις. σκόπει γάρ· ἔχεις καλὰ ἱμάτια, ὁ γείτων σου οὐκ ἔχει· θυρίδα ἔχεις, θέλεις αὐτὰ ψῦξαι. οὐκ οἶδεν ἐκεῖνος τί τὸ ἀγαθόν ἐστι τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, ἀλλὰ φαντάζεται ὅτι τὸ ἔχειν καλὰ ἱμάτια, τοῦτο ὃ καὶ σὺ φαντάζῃ. εἶτα μὴ ἔλθῃ καὶ ἄρῃ αὐτά; ἀλλὰ σὺ πλακοῦντα δεικνύων ἀνθρώποις λίχνοις καὶ μόνος αὐτὸν καταπίνων οὐ θέλεις ἵνα αὐτὸν ἁρπάσωσι; μὴ ἐρέθιζε αὐτούς, θυρίδα μὴ ἔχε, μὴ ψῦχέ σου τὰ ἱμάτια. κἀγὼ πρῴην σιδηροῦν λύχνον ἔχων παρὰ τοῖς θεοῖς ἀκούσας ψόφον τῆς θυρίδος κατέδραμον. εὗρον ἡρπασμένον τὸν λύχνον. ἐπελογισάμην, ὅτι ἔπαθέν τι ὁ ἄρας οὐκ ἀπίθανον. τί οὖν; αὔριον, φημί, ὀστράκινον εὑρήσεις. ἐκεῖνα γὰρ ἀπολλύει, ἃ ἔχει. ἀπώλεσά μου τὸ ἱμάτιον. εἶχες γὰρ ἱμάτιον. ἀλγῶ τὴν κεφαλήν. μή τι κέρατα ἀλγεῖς; τί οὖν ἀγανακτεῖς; τούτων γὰρ αἱ ἀπώλειαι, τούτων οἱ πόνοι, ὧν καὶ αἱ κτήσεις. ἀλλʼ ὁ τύραννος δήσει. τί; τὸ σκέλος. ἀλλʼ ἀφελεῖ. τί; τὸν τράχηλον. τί οὖν οὐ δήσει οὐδʼ ἀφελεῖ; τὴν προαίρεσιν. διὰ τοῦτο παρήγγελλον οἱ παλαιοὶ τὸ Γνῶθι σαυτόν. τί οὖν; ἔδει νὴ τοὺς θεοὺς μελετᾶν ἐπὶ τῶν μικρῶν καὶ ἀπʼ ἐκείνων ἀρχομένους διαβαίνειν ἐπὶ τὰ μείζω. κεφαλὴν ἀλγῶ. οἴμοι μὴ λέγε. ὠτίον ἀλγῶ. οἴμοι μὴ λέγε. καὶ οὐ λέγω ὅτι οὐ δέδοται στενάξαι, ἀλλὰ ἔσωθεν μὴ στενάξῃς. μηδʼ ἂν βραδέως τὸν ἐπίδεσμον ὁ παῖς φέρῃ, κραύγαζε καὶ σπῶ καὶ λέγε πάντες με μισοῦσιν. τίς γὰρ μὴ μισήσῃ τὸν τοιοῦτον; τούτοις τὸ λοιπὸν πεποιθὼς τοῖς δόγμασιν ὀρθὸς περιπάτει, ἐλεύθερος, οὐχὶ τῷ μεγέθει πεποιθὼς τοῦ σώματος ὥσπερ ἀθλητής· οὐ γὰρ ὡς ὄνον ἀήττητον εἶναι. τίς οὖν ὁ ἀήττητος; ὃν οὐκ ἐξίστησιν οὐδὲν τῶν ἀπροαιρέτων. εἶτα λοιπὸν ἑκάστην τῶν περιστάσεων ἐπερχόμενος καταμανθάνω ὡς ἐπὶ τοῦ ἀθλητοῦ. οὗτος ἐξεβίασε τὸν πρῶτον κλῆρον. τί οὖν τὸν δεύτερον; τί δʼ ἂν καῦμα ᾖ; τί δʼ ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ; καὶ ἐνταῦθα ὡσαύτως. ἂν ἀργυρίδιον προβάλῃς, καταφρονήσει. τί οὖν ἂν κορασίδιον; τί οὖν ἂν ἐν σκότῳ; τί οὖν ἂν δοξάριον; τί οὖν ἂν λοιδορίαν; τί οὖν ἂν ἔπαινον; τί δʼ ἂν θάνατον; δύναται ταῦτα πάντα νικῆσαι. τί οὖν ἂν καῦμα ᾖ, τοῦτό ἐστι· τί, ἂν οἰνωμένος ᾖ; τί ἂν μελαγχολῶν; τί ἐν ὕπνοις; οὗτός μοί ἐστιν ὁ ἀνίκητος ἀθλητής.