19. When a person is possessed of some personal advantage, either real or imaginary, he will necessarily be puffed up with it, unless he has been well instructed. A tyrant openly says, “am supreme over all.” And what can you bestow on me? Can you exempt my desires from disappointment? How should you? For do you never incur what you shun? Are your own aims infallible? Whence came you by that privilege? Pray, on shipboard, do you trust to yourself, or to the pilot In a chariot, to whom but the driver? And to whom in all other arts? Just the same. In what, then, does your power consist? “All men pay regard to me.” So do I to my desk. I wash it and wipe it, and drive a nail for my oil-flask. “What, then; are these things to be valued beyond me?” No; but they are of some use to me, and therefore I pay regard to them. Why, do I not pay regard to an ass? Do I not wash his feet? Do I not clean him? Do not you know that every one pays such regard even to himself; and that he does it to you, just as he does to an ass? For who pays regard to you as a man? Show that. Who would wish to be like you? Who would desire to imitate you, as he would Socrates? “But I can take off your head.” You say rightly. I had forgot that one is to pay regard to you as to a fever, or the cholera; and that there should be an altar erected to you, as there is to the goddess Fever at Rome. What is it, then, that disturbs and terrifies the multitude,—the tyrant and his guards? By no means. What is by nature free cannot be disturbed or restrained by anything but itself; but its own convictions disturb it. Thus, when the tyrant says to any one, “will chain your leg,” he who chiefly values his leg cries out for pity; while he who chiefly values his own free will says, “If you imagine it for your interest, chain it.” “What! do you not care?” No, I do not care. “I will show you that I am master.” You? How should you? Zeus has set me free. What! do you think he would suffer his own son to be enslaved? You are master of my carcass; take it. “So that, when you come into my presence, you pay no regard to me?” No, but to myself; or, if you will have me recognize you also, I will do it as if you were a piece o; furniture. This is not selfish vanity; for every animal is so constituted as to do everything for itself. Even the sun does all for himself, and for that matter so does even Zeus himself; but when he would be styled the dispenser of rain and plenty, and the father of gods and men, you see that he cannot attain these offices and titles unless he contributes to the common good. And he has universally so constituted the nature of every reasonable creature, that no one can attain its own good without contributing something for the good of all. And thus it becomes not selfish to do everything for one’s self; for do you expect that a man should desert himself and his own concerns, when all beings have one and the same original instinct, self-preservation? What follows then? That where we recognize those absurd convictions, which treat things outward as if they were the true good or evil of life, there must necessarily be a regard paid to tyrants; and I wish it were to tyrants only, and not to the very officers of their bed-chamber too. For how wise a man grows on a sudden, when Caesar has made him his flunkey? How immediately we say, “Felicio talked very sensibly to me!” I wish he were turned out of office, that he might once more appear to you the fool he is. Epaphroditus owned a shoemaker, whom, because he was good for nothing, he sold. This very fellow being, by some strange luck, bought by a courtier, became shoemaker to Caesar. Then, you might have seen how Epaphroditus honored him. “How is good Felicio, pray?” And, if any one of us asked what the great man himself was about, it was answered, “He is consulting about affairs with Felicio.” Did he not sell him previously as good for nothing? Who, then, has all on a sudden made a wise man of him? This it is to reverence externals. Is any one exalted to the office of tribune? All who meet him congratulate him. One kisses his eyes, another his neck, and the slaves his hands. He goes to his house; finds it illuminated. He ascends the capitol; offers a sacrifice. Now, who ever offered a sacrifice for having good desires; for conforming his aims to nature? Yet we thank the gods for that wherein we place our good. A person was talking with me to-day about applying for the priesthood in the temple of Augustus. I said to him, Let the thing alone, friend; you will be at great expense for nothing. “But my name,” said he, “will be written in the annals.” Will you stand by, then, and tell those who read them, “am the person whose name is written there”? And even if you could tell every one so now, what will you do when you are dead? “My name will remain.” Write it upon a stone, and it will remain just as well. And, pray, what remembrance will there be of you out of Nicopolis? “But I shall wear a crown of gold.” If your heart is quite set upon a crown, make and put on one of roses; for it will make the prettier appearance.
19. ὅτι ἄν τινι προσῇ τι πλεονέκτημα ἢ δοκῇ γε προσεῖναι μὴ προσόν, τοῦτον πᾶσα ἀνάγκη, ἐὰν ἀπαίδευτος ᾖ, πεφυσῆσθαι διʼ αὐτό. εὐθὺς ὁ τύραννος λέγει ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ πάντων κράτιστος. καὶ τί μοι δύνασαι παρασχεῖν; ὄρεξίν μοι δύνασαι περιποιῆσαι ἀκώλυτον; πόθεν σοι; σὺ γὰρ ἔχεις; ἔκκλισιν ἀπερίπτωτον; σὺ γὰρ ἔχεις; ὁρμὴν ἀναμάρτητον; καὶ ποῦ σοι μέτεστιν; ἄγε, ἐν νηὶ δὲ σαυτῷ θαρρεῖς ἢ τῷ εἰδότι; ἐπὶ δʼ ἅρματος τίνι ἢ τῷ εἰδότι; τί δʼ ἐν ταῖς ἄλλαις τέχναις; ὡσαύτως. τί οὖν δύνασαι; πάντες με θεραπεύουσιν. καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ τὸ πινάκιον θεραπεύω καὶ πλύνω αὐτὸ καὶ ἐκμάσσω καὶ τῆς ληκύθου ἕνεκα πάσσαλον πήσσω. τί οὖν; ταῦτά μου κρείττονά ἐστιν; οὔ· ἀλλὰ χρείαν μοι παρέχει τινά. ταύτης οὖν ἕνεκα θεραπεύω αὐτά. τί δέ; τὸν ὄνον οὐ θεραπεύω; οὐ νίπτω αὐτοῦ τοὺς πόδας; οὐ περικαθαίρω; οὐκ οἶδας ὅτι πᾶς ἄνθρωπος ἑαυτὸν θεραπεύει, σὲ δʼ οὕτως ὡς τὸν ὄνον; ἐπεὶ τίς σε θεραπεύει ὡς ἄνθρωπον; δείκνυε. τίς σοι θέλει ὅμοιος γενέσθαι, τίς σου ζηλωτὴς γίνεται ὡς Σωκράτους; ἀλλὰ δύναμαί σε τραχηλοκοπῆσαι. καλῶς λέγεις. ἐξελαθόμην ὅτι σε δεῖ θεραπεύειν καὶ ὡς πυρετὸν καὶ ὡς χολέραν καὶ βωμὸν στῆσαι, ὡς ἐν Ῥώμῃ Πυρετοῦ βωμός ἐστιν. τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ ταράσσον καὶ καταπλῆττον τοὺς πολλούς; ὁ τύραννος καὶ οἱ δορυφόροι; πόθεν; μὴ γένοιτο· οὐκ ἐνδέχεται τὸ φύσει ἐλεύθερον ὑπʼ ἄλλου τινὸς ταραχθῆναι ἢ κωλυθῆναι πλὴν ὑφʼ ἑαυτοῦ. ἀλλὰ τὰ δόγματα αὐτὸν ταράσσει. ὅταν γὰρ ὁ τύραννος εἴπῃ τινὶ δήσω σου τὸ σκέλος, ὁ μὲν τὸ σκέλος τετιμηκὼς λέγει μή· ἐλέησον, ὁ δὲ τὴν προαίρεσιν τὴν ἑαυτοῦ λέγει εἴ σοι λυσιτελέστερον φαίνεται, δῆσον. οὐκ ἐπιστρέφῃ; οὐκ ἐπιστρέφομαι. ἐγώ σοι δείξω ὅτι κύριός εἰμι. πόθεν σύ; ἐμὲ ὁ Ζεὺς ἐλεύθερον ἀφῆκεν. ἢ δοκεῖς ὅτι ἔμελλεν τὸν ἴδιον υἱὸν ἐᾶν καταδουλοῦσθαι; τοῦ νεκροῦ δέ μου κύριος εἶ, λάβε αὐτόν. ὥσθʼ ὅταν μοι προσίῃς, ἐμὲ οὐ θεραπεύεις; οὐ· ἀλλʼ ἐμαυτόν. εἰ δὲ θέλεις με λέγειν ὅτι καὶ σέ, λέγω σοι οὕτως ὡς τὴν χύτραν. τοῦτο οὐκ ἔστιν φίλαυτον· γέγονε γὰρ οὕτως τὸ ζῷον· αὑτοῦ ἕνεκα πάντα ποιεῖ. καὶ γὰρ ὁ ἥλιος αὑτοῦ ἕνεκα πάντα ποιεῖ καὶ τὸ λοιπὸν αὐτὸς ὁ Ζεύς. ἀλλʼ ὅταν θέλῃ εἶναι Ὑέτιος καὶ Ἐπικάρπιος καὶ πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε, ὁρᾷς ὅτι τούτων τῶν ἔργων καὶ τῶν προσηγοριῶν οὐ δύναται τυχεῖν, ἂν μὴ εἰς τὸ κοινὸν ὠφέλιμος ᾖ. καθόλου τε τοιαύτην τὴν φύσιν τοῦ λογικοῦ ζῴου κατεσκεύασεν, ἵνα μηδενὸς τῶν ἰδίων ἀγαθῶν δύνηται τυγχάνειν, ἂν μή τι εἰς τὸ κοινὸν ὠφέλιμον προσφέρηται. οὕτως οὐκέτι ἀκοινώνητον γίνεται τὸ πάντα αὑτοῦ ἕνεκα ποιεῖν. ἐπεὶ τί ἐκδέχῃ; ἵνα τις ἀποστῇ αὑτοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἰδίου συμφέροντος; καὶ πῶς ἔτι μία καὶ ἡ αὐτὴ ἀρχὴ πᾶσιν ἔσται ἡ πρὸς αὐτὰ οἰκείωσις; τί οὖν; ὅταν ὑπῇ δόγματα ἀλλόκοτα περὶ τῶν ἀπροαιρέτων [π]ὡς ὄντων ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν, πᾶσα ἀνάγκη θεραπεύειν τοὺς τυράννους. ὤφελον γὰρ τοὺς τυράννους μόνον, τοὺς κοιτωνίτας δʼ οὔ. πῶς δὲ καὶ φρόνιμος γίνεται ἐξαίφνης ὁ ἄνθρωπος, ὅταν Καῖσαρ αὐτὸν ἐπὶ τοῦ λασάνου ποιήσῃ· πῶς εὐθὺς λέγομεν φρονίμως μοι λελάληκεν Φηλικίων. ἤθελον αὐτὸν ἀποβληθῆναι τοῦ κοπρῶνος, ἵνα πάλιν ἄφρων σοι δοκῇ. εἶχέν τινα Ἐπαφρόδιτος σκυτέα, ὃν διὰ τὸ ἄχρηστον εἶναι ἐπώλησεν. εἶτα ἐκεῖνος κατά τινα δαίμονα ἀγορασθεὶς ὑπό τινος τῶν Καισαριανῶν τοῦ Καίσαρος σκυτεὺς ἐγένετο. εἶδες ἂν πῶς αὐτὸν ἐτίμα ὁ Ἐπαφρόδιτος· τί πράσσει Φηλικίων ὁ ἀγαθός; φιλῶ σε. εἶτα εἴ τις ἡμῶν ἐπύθετο τί ποιεῖ αὐτός; ἐλέγετο ὅτι μετὰ Φηλικίωνος βουλεύεται περί τινος. οὐχὶ γὰρ πεπράκει αὐτὸν ὡς ἄχρηστον; τίς οὖν αὐτὸν ἄφνω φρόνιμον ἐποίησεν; τοῦτʼ ἔστι τὸ τιμᾶν ἄλλο τι ἢ τὰ προαιρετικά. ἠξίωται δημαρχίας. πάντες οἱ ἀπαντῶντες συνήδονται· ἄλλος τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς καταφιλεῖ, ἄλλος τὸν τράχηλον, οἱ δοῦλοι τὰς χεῖρας. ἔρχεται εἰς οἶκον, εὑρίσκει λύχνους ἁπτομένους. ἀναβαίνει εἰς τὸ Καπιτώλιον, ἐπιθύει. τίς οὖν πώποτε ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὀρεχθῆναι καλῶς ἔθυσεν; ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὁρμῆσαι κατὰ φύσιν; ἐκεῖ γὰρ καὶ θεοῖς εὐχαριστοῦμεν, ὅπου τὸ ἀγαθὸν τιθέμεθα. σήμερόν τις ὑπὲρ ἱερωσύνης ἐλάλει μοι τοῦ Αὐγούστου. λέγω αὐτῷ ἄνθρωπε, ἄφες τὸ πρᾶγμα· δαπανήσεις πολλὰ εἰς οὐδέν. — ἀλλʼ οἱ τὰς [φ]ὠνάς, φησί, γράφοντες γράψουσι τὸ ἐμὸν ὄνομα. — μή τι οὖν σὺ τοῖς ἀναγιγνώσκουσι λέγεις παρών· ἐμὲ γεγράφασιν; εἰ δὲ καὶ νῦν δύνασαι παρεῖναι πᾶσιν, ἐὰν ἀποθάνῃς, τί ποιήσεις; — μενεῖ μου τὸ ὄνομα. — γράψον αὐτὸ εἰς λίθον καὶ μενεῖ. ἄγε ἔξω δὲ Νικοπόλεως τίς σου μνεία; — ἀλλὰ χρυσοῦν στέφανον φορήσω. — εἰ ἅπαξ ἐπιθυμεῖς στεφάνου, ῥόδινον λαβὼν περίθου· ὄψει γὰρ κομψότερον.
20. Every art, and every faculty, contemplates certain things as its principal objects. Whenever, therefore, it is of the same nature with the objects of its contemplation, it necessarily contemplates itself too; but where it is of a different nature, it cannot contemplate itself. The art of shoemaking, for instance, is exercised upon leather, but is itself entirely distinct from the materials it works upon; therefore it does not contemplate itself. Again, grammar is exercised on articulate speech. Is the art of grammar itself, then, articulate speech? By no means. Therefore, it cannot contemplate itself. To what purpose, then, is reason appointed by nature? To a proper use of the phenomena of existence. And what is reason? The art of systematizing these phenomena. Thus, by its nature, it becomes contemplative of itself too. Again, what subjects of contemplation belong to prudence? Good and evil, and that which is indifferent. What, then, is prudence itself? Good. What imprudence? Evil. You see, then, that it necessarily contemplates both itself and its contrary. Therefore, the first and greatest work of a philosopher is to try to distinguish the phenomena of existence, and to admit none untried. Even in money, where our interest seems to be concerned, you see what an art we have invented, and how many ways an assayer uses to try its value,—by the sight, the touch, the smell, and, lastly, the hearing. He throws the piece down, and attends to the jingle; and is not contented with its jingling only once, but, by frequent attention to it, trains his ear for sound. So, when we think it of consequence whether we are deceived or not, we use the utmost attention to discern those things which may deceive us. But, yawning and slumbering over our poor neglected reason, we are imposed upon by every appearance, nor know the mischief done. Would you know, then, how very languidly you are affected by good and evil, and how vehemently by things indifferent, consider how you feel with regard to bodily blindness, and how with regard to being deceived; and you will find that you are far from being moved, as you ought, in relation to good and evil. “But trained powers and much labor and learning are here needed.” What then? Do you expect the greatest of arts to be acquired by slight endeavors? And yet the principal doctrine of the philosophers is in itself short. If you have a mind to know it, read Zeno, and you will see. It is not a long story to say, “Our end is to serve the gods,” and “The essence of good consists in the proper use of the phenomena of existence.” If you say, what then is God; what are phenomena; what is particular, what universal nature,—here the long story comes in. And so, if Epicurus should come and say that good lies in the body, here, too, it will be a long story; and it will be necessary to hear what is the principal, and substantial, and essential part in us. It is unlikely that the good of a snail should be placed in the shell; and is it likely that the good of a man should? You yourself, Epicurus, have in you something superior to this. What is that in you which deliberates, which examines, which recognizes the body as the principal part? Why light your lamp, and labor for us, and write so many books? That we may not be ignorant of the truth? But what are we? What are we to you? Thus the doctrine becomes a long story.
20. πᾶσα τέχνη καὶ δύναμις προηγουμένων τινῶν ἐστι θεωρητική. ὅταν μὲν οὖν ὁμοειδὴς τοῖς θεωρουμένοις καὶ αὐτή, ἀναγκαίως καὶ αὑτῆς γίνεται θεωρητική· ὅταν δʼ ἀνομογενής, οὐ δύναται θεωρεῖν ἑαυτήν. οἷον σκυτικὴ περὶ δέρματα ἀναστρέφεται, αὐτὴ δὲ παντελῶς ἀπήλλακται τῆς ὕλης τῶν δερμάτων· διὰ τοῦτο οὐκ ἔστιν αὑτῆς θεωρητική. γραμματικὴ πάλιν περὶ τὴν ἐγγράμματον φωνήν· μή τι οὖν ἐστι καὶ αὐτὴ ἐγγράμματος φωνή; οὐδαμῶς. διὰ τοῦτο οὐ δύναται θεωρεῖν ἑαυτήν. ὁ οὖν λόγος πρὸς τί ποτε ὑπὸ τῆς φύσεως παρείληπται; πρὸς χρῆσιν φαντασιῶν οἵαν δεῖ. αὐτὸς οὖν τί ἐστιν; σύστημα ἐκ ποιῶν φαντασιῶν. οὕτως γίνεται φύσει καὶ αὑτοῦ θεωρητικός. πάλιν ἡ φρόνησις τίνα θεωρήσουσα παρελήλυθεν; ἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ καὶ οὐδέτερα. αὐτὴ οὖν τί ἐστιν; ἀγαθόν. ἡ δʼ ἀφροσύνη τί ἐστιν; κακόν. ὁρᾷς οὖν ὅτι ἀναγκαίως καὶ αὑτῆς γίνεται καὶ τῆς ἐναντίας θεωρητική; διὰ τοῦτο ἔργον τοῦ φιλοσόφου τὸ μέγιστον καὶ πρῶτον δοκιμάζειν τὰς φαντασίας καὶ διακρίνειν καὶ μηδεμίαν ἀδοκίμαστον προσφέρεσθαι. ὁρᾶτε ἐπὶ τοῦ νομίσματος, ὅπου δοκεῖ τι εἶναι πρὸς ἡμᾶς, πῶς καὶ τέχνην ἐξευρήκαμεν καὶ ὅσοις ὁ ἀργυρογνώμων προσχρῆται πρὸς δοκιμασίαν τοῦ νομίσματος, τῇ ὄψει, τῇ ἁφῇ, τῇ ὀσφρασίᾳ, τὰ τελευταῖα τῇ ἀκοῇ· ῥήξας τὸ δηνάριον τῷ ψόφῳ προσέχει καὶ οὐχ ἅπαξ ἀρκεῖται ψοφήσαντος, ἀλλʼ ὑπὸ τῆς πολλῆς προσοχῆς μουσικὸς γίνεται. οὕτως ὅπου διαφέρειν οἰόμεθα τὸ πλανᾶσθαι τοῦ μὴ πλανᾶσθαι, ἐνταῦθα πολλὴν προσοχὴν εἰσφέρομεν εἰς διάκρισιν τῶν διαπλανᾶν δυναμένων, ἐπὶ δὲ ταλαιπώρου ἡγεμονικοῦ χάσκοντες καὶ καθεύδοντες, πᾶσαν φαντασίαν παραπροσδεχόμεθα· ἡ γὰρ ζημία οὐ προσπίπτει. ὅταν οὖν θέλῃς γνῶναι, πῶς ἔχεις περὶ μὲν τἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ ἀνειμένως, περὶ τἀδιάφορα δʼ ἐσπευσμένως, ἐπίστησον πῶς ἔχεις πρὸς τὸ ἐκτυφλωθῆναι καὶ πῶς πρὸς τὸ ἐξαπατηθῆναι καὶ γνώσῃ ὅτι μακρὰν εἶ τοῦ ὡς δεῖ πεπονθέναι περὶ ἀγαθῶν καὶ κακῶν. ἀλλὰ πολλῆς ἔχει χρείαν παρασκευῆς καὶ πόνου πολλοῦ καὶ μαθημάτων. τί οὖν; ἐλπίζεις ὅτι τὴν μεγίστην τέχνην ἀπὸ ὀλίγων ἔστιν ἀναλαβεῖν; καίτοι αὐτὸς μὲν ὁ προηγούμενος λόγος τῶν φιλοσόφων λίαν ἐστὶν ὀλίγος. εἰ θέλεις γνῶναι, ἀνάγνωθι τὰ Ζήνωνος καὶ ὄψει. τί γὰρ ἔχει μακρὸν εἰπεῖν ὅτι τέλος ἐστὶ τὸ ἕπεσθαι θεοῖς, οὐσία δʼ ἀγαθοῦ χρῆσις οἵα δεῖ φαντασιῶν; λέγε τί οὖν ἐστι θεὸς καὶ τί φαντασία; καὶ τί ἐστι φύσις ἡ ἐπὶ μέρους καὶ τί ἐστι φύσις ἡ τῶν ὅλων; ἤδη μακρόν. ἂν οὖν ἐλθὼν Ἐπίκουρος εἴπῃ, ὅτι ἐν σαρκὶ δεῖ εἶναι τὸ ἀγαθόν, πάλιν μακρὸν γίνεται καὶ ἀνάγκη ἀκοῦσαι τί τὸ προηγούμενόν ἐστιν ἐφʼ ἡμῶν, τί τὸ ὑποστατικὸν καὶ οὐσιῶδες. ὅτι τὸ κοχλίου ἀγαθὸν οὐκ εἰκὸς εἶναι ἐν τῷ κελύφει, τὸ οὖν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου εἰκός; σὺ δʼ αὐτὸς τί κυριώτερον ἔχεις, Ἐπίκουρε; τί ἐστιν ἐν σοὶ τὸ βουλευόμενον, τὸ ἐπισκεπτόμενον ἕκαστα, τὸ περὶ τῆς σαρκὸς αὐτῆς ὅτι τὸ προηγούμενόν ἐστιν [τὸ] ἐπικρῖνον; τί δὲ καὶ λύχνον ἅπτεις καὶ πονεῖς ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν καὶ τηλικαῦτα βιβλία γράφεις; ἵνα μὴ ἀγνοήσωμεν ἡμεῖς τὴν ἀλήθειαν; τίνες ἡμεῖς; τί πρὸς σὲ ὄντες; οὕτω μακρὸς ὁ λόγος γίνεται.
21. When one maintains his proper attitude in life, he does not long after externals. What would you have, O man? “I am contented, if my desires and aversions are conformable to nature; if I seek and shun that which I ought, and thus regulate my purposes, my efforts, and my opinions.” Why, then, do you walk as if you had swallowed a spit? “Because I could wish moreover to have all who meet me admire me, and all who follow me cry out, What a great philosopher!” Who are those by whom you would be admired? Are they not the very people who you used to say were mad? What, then, would you be admired by madmen?
21. ὅταν τις ἣν δεῖ στάσιν ἔχῃ ἐν τῷ βίῳ, ἔξω οὐ κέχηνεν. ἄνθρωπε, τί θέλεις σοι γενέσθαι; ἐγὼ μὲν ἀρκοῦμαι, ἂν ὀρέγωμαι καὶ ἐκκλίνω κατὰ φύσιν, ἂν ὁρμῇ καὶ ἀφορμῇ χρῶμαι ὡς πέφυκα, ἂν προ[σ]θέσει, ἂν ἐπιβολῇ, ἂν συγκαταθέσει. τί οὖν ἡμῖν ὀβελίσκον καταπιὼν περιπατεῖς; ἤθελον, ἵνα με καὶ οἱ ἀπαντῶντες θαυμάζωσιν καὶ ἐπακολουθοῦντες ἐπικραυγάζωσιν· ὦ μεγάλου φιλοσόφου. τίνες εἰσὶν οὗτοι, ὑφʼ ὧν θαυμάζεσθαι θέλεις; οὐχ οὗτοί εἰσι, περὶ ὧν εἴωθας λέγειν ὅτι μαίνονται; τί οὖν; ὑπὸ τῶν μαινομένων θαυμάζεσθαι θέλεις;
22. The same general principles are common to all men, nor does one such principle contradict another; for which of us does not admit that good is advantageous and eligible, and in all cases to be pursued and followed? Who does not admit that justice is fair and becoming? Where, then, arises the dispute? In adapting these principles to particular cases; as when one cries, “Such a person has acted well,—he is a gallant man;” and another, “No, he has acted like a fool.” Hence arise disputes among men. This is the dispute between Jews and Syrians and Egyptians and Romans,—not whether the right be preferable to all things, and in every instance to be sought; but whether the eating swine’s flesh be consistent with right, or not. This, too, you will find to have been the dispute between Achilles and Agamemnon; for call them forth. What say you, Agamemnon,—ought not that to be done which is fit and right? “Yes, surely.” Achilles, what say you,—is it not agreeable to you, that what is right should be done? “Yes; I desire it beyond everything.” Apply your principles then. Here begins the dispute. One says, “It is not fit that I should restore Chryseis to her father.” The other says, “Yes; but it is.” One or the other of them, certainly, makes a wrong conception of the principle of fitness. Again, the one says, “If it be fit that I should give up Chryseis, it is fit, too, that I should take some of your prizes.” The other answers, “What, that you should take my mistress?” “Ay; yours.” “What, mine only? Must I only, then, lose my prize?” What, then, is it to be properly educated? To learn how to apply the principles of natural right to particular cases, and, for the rest, to distinguish that some things are in our power, while others are not. In our own power are the will, and all voluntary actions; out of our power, the body and its parts, property, parents, brothers, children, country, and, in short, all our fellow-beings. Where, then, shall we place good? In what shall we define it to consist? In things within our own power. “But are not health and strength and life good? And are not children, parents, country? You talk unreasonably.” Let us, then, try another point of view. Can he who suffers evil, and is disappointed of good, be happy? He cannot. And can he preserve a right behavior with regard to society? How is it possible that he should? I am naturally led to seek my own highest good. If, therefore, it is my highest good to have an estate, it is for my good likewise to take it away from my neighbor. If it is my highest good to have a suit of clothes, it is for my good likewise to steal it wherever I find it. Hence wars, seditions, tyranny, unjust invasions. How shall I, if this be the case, be able any longer to do my duty towards Zeus? If I suffer evil, and am disappointed, he takes no care of me. And what is he to me if he cannot help me; or. again, what is he to me if he chooses I should be in the condition that I am? Then I begin to hate him. What, then, do we build temples, do we raise statues, to Zeus. as to evil demons, as to the goddess Fever? How, then, is he the preserver, and how the dispenser of rain and plenty? If we place the essence of good on any such ground, all this will follow. What, then, shall we do? This is the inquiry which interests him who philosophizes in earnest, and to some result. Do I not now see what is good, and what is evil, or am I mad? Suppose I place good only in things dependent on my own will? Why, every one will laugh at me. Some gray-headed old fellow will come, with his fingers covered with gold rings, and will shake his head, and say, “Hark ye, child, it is fit you should learn philosophy; but it is fit, too, you should have common-sense. All this is nonsense. You learn syllogisms from philosophers; but how you are to act, you know better than they.” Then what displeases you if I do know? What can I say to this unfortunate? If I make no answer, he will burst; so I must answer thus: “Bear with me, as with lovers. Granted; I am not myself. I have lost my senses.”
22. προλήψεις κοιναὶ πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις εἰσίν· καὶ πρόληψις προλήψει οὐ μάχεται. τίς γὰρ ἡμῶν οὐ τίθησιν, ὅτι τὸ ἀγαθὸν συμφέρον ἐστὶ ἐστι καὶ αἱρετὸν καὶ ἐκ πάσης αὐτὸ περιστάσεως δεῖ μετιέναι καὶ διώκειν; τίς δʼ ἡμῶν οὐ τίθησιν, ὅτι τὸ δίκαιον καλόν ἐστι καὶ πρέπον; πότʼ οὖν ἡ μάχη γίνεται; περὶ τὴν ἐφαρμογὴν τῶν προλήψεων ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρους οὐσίαις, ὅταν ὁ μὲν εἴπῃ καλῶς ἐποίησεν, ἀνδρεῖός ἐστιν· οὔ, ἀλλʼ ἀπονενοημένος. ἔνθεν ἡ μάχη γίνεται τοῖς ἀνθρώποις πρὸς ἀλλήλους. αὕτη ἐστὶν ἡ Ἰουδαίων καὶ Σύρων καὶ Αἰγυπτίων καὶ Ῥωμαίων μάχη, οὐ περὶ τοῦ ὅτι τὸ ὅσιον πάντων προτιμητέον καὶ ἐν παντὶ μεταδιωκτέον, ἀλλὰ πότερόν ἐστιν ὅσιον τοῦτο τὸ χοιρείου φαγεῖν ἢ ἀνόσιον. ταύτην τὴν μάχην εὑρήσετε καὶ Ἀγαμέμνονος καὶ Ἀχιλλέως. κάλει γὰρ αὐτοὺς εἰς τὸ μέσον. τί λέγεις σύ, ὦ Ἀγάμεμνον; οὐ δεῖ γενέσθαι τὰ δέοντα καὶ τὰ καλῶς ἔχοντα; δεῖ μὲν οὖν. σὺ δὲ τί λέγεις, ὦ Ἀχιλλεῦ; οὐκ ἀρέσκει σοι γίνεσθαι τὰ καλῶς ἔχοντα; ἐμοὶ μὲν οὖν πάντων μάλιστα ἀρέσκει. ἐφαρμόσατε οὖν τὰς προλήψεις. ἐντεῦθεν ἡ ἀρχὴ μάχης. ὁ μὲν λέγει οὐ χρὴ ἀποδιδόναι με τὴν Χρυσηίδα τῷ πατρί, ὁ δὲ λέγει δεῖ μὲν οὖν. πάντως ὁ ἕτερος αὐτῶν κακῶς ἐφαρμόζει τὴν πρόληψιν τοῦ δέοντος. πάλιν ὁ μὲν λέγει οὐκοῦν, εἴ με δεῖ ἀποδοῦναι τὴν Χρυσηίδα, δεῖ με λαβεῖν ὑμῶν τινος τὸ γέρας, ὁ δέ τὴν ἐμὴν οὖν λάβῃς ἐρωμένην;. τὴν σήν φησίν. ἐγὼ οὖν μόνος — ἀλλʼ ἐγὼ μόνος μὴ ἔχω; οὕτως μάχη γίνεται. τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ παιδεύεσθαι; μανθάνειν τὰς φυσικὰς προλήψεις ἐφαρμόζειν ταῖς ἐπὶ μέρους οὐσίαις καταλλήλως τῇ φύσει καὶ λοιπὸν διελεῖν, ὅτι τῶν ὄντων τὰ μέν ἐστιν ἐφʼ ἡμῖν, τὰ δὲ οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν· ἐφʼ ἡμῖν μὲν προαίρεσις καὶ πάντα τὰ προαιρετικὰ ἔργα, οὐκ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν δὲ τὸ σῶμα, τὰ μέρη τοῦ σώματος, κτήσεις, γονεῖς, ἀδελφοὶ, τέκνα, πατρίς, ἁπλῶς οἱ κοινωνοί. ποῦ οὖν θῶμεν τὸ ἀγαθόν; ποίᾳ οὐσίᾳ αὐτὸ ἐφαρμόσομεν; τῇ ἐφʼ ἡμῖν; — εἶτα οὐκ ἔστιν ἀγαθὸν ὑγίεια καὶ ἀρτιότης καὶ ζωή, ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ τέκνα οὐδὲ γονεῖς οὐδὲ πατρίς; — καὶ τίς σου ἀνέξεται; μεταθῶμεν οὖν αὐτὸ πάλιν ἐνθάδε. ἐνδέχεται οὖν βλαπτόμενον καὶ ἀποτυγχάνοντα τῶν ἀγαθῶν εὐδαιμονεῖν; — οὐκ ἐνδέχεται. — καὶ τὴν πρὸς τοὺς κοινωνοὺς οἵαν δεῖ … ἀναστροφήν; καὶ πῶς ἐνδέχεται; ἐγὼ γὰρ πέφυκα πρὸς τὸ ἐμὸν συμφέρον. εἰ συμφέρει μοι ἀγρὸν ἔχειν, συμφέρει μοι καὶ ἀφελέσθαι αὐτὸν τοῦ πλησίον· εἰ συμφέρει μοι ἱμάτιον ἔχειν, συμφέρει μοι καὶ κλέψαι αὐτὸ ἐκ βαλανείου. ἔνθεν πόλεμοι, στάσεις, τυραννίδες, ἐπιβουλαί. πῶς δʼ ἔτι δυνήσομαι τὸ πρὸς τὸν Δία καθῆκον; εἰ γὰρ βλάπτομαι καὶ ἀτυχῶ, οὐκ ἐπιστρέφεταί μου. καὶ τί μοι καὶ αὐτῷ, εἰ οὐ δύναταί μοι βοηθῆσαι; καὶ πάλιν τί μοι καὶ αὐτῷ, εἰ θέλει μʼ ἐν τοιούτοις εἶναι ἐν οἷς εἰμι; ἄρχομαι λοιπὸν μισεῖν αὐτόν. τί οὖν ναοὺς ποιοῦμεν, τί οὖν ἀγάλματα, ὡς κακοῖς δαίμοσιν, ὡς πυρετῷ τῷ Διί; καὶ πῶς ἔτι Σωτὴρ καὶ πῶς Ὑέτιος καὶ πῶς Ἐπικάρπιος; καὶ μήν, ἂν ἐνταῦθά που θῶμεν τὴν οὐσίαν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ, πάντα ταῦτα ἐξακολουθεῖ. τί οὖν ποιήσωμεν;— αὕτη ἐστὶ ζήτησις τοῦ φιλοσοφοῦντος τῷ ὄντι καὶ ὠδίνοντος· νῦν ἐγὼ οὐχ ὁρῶ τί ἐστι τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ τὸ κακόν· οὐ μαίνομαι; ναί· ἀλλʼ ἂν ἐνταῦθά που θῶ τὸ ἀγαθόν, ἐν τοῖς προαιρετικοῖς, πάντες μου καταγελάσονται. ἥξει τις γέρων πολιὸς χρυσοῦς δακτυλίους ἔχων πολλούς, εἶτα ἐπισείσας τὴν κεφαλὴν ἐρεῖ ἄκουσόν μου, τέκνον· δεῖ μὲν καὶ φιλοσοφεῖν, δεῖ δὲ καὶ ἐγκέφαλον ἔχειν· ταῦτα μωρά ἐστιν. σὺ παρὰ τῶν φιλοσόφων μανθάνεις συλλογισμόν, τί δέ σοι ποιητέον ἐστίν, σὺ κάλλιον οἶδας ἢ οἱ φιλόσοφοι. ἄνθρωπε, τί οὖν μοι ἐπιτιμᾷς, εἰ οἶδα; τούτῳ τῷ ἀνδραπόδῳ τί εἴπω; ἂν σιωπῶ, ῥήγνυται ἐκεῖνος. ὡς δεῖ λέγειν ὅτι σύγγνωθί μοι ὡς τοῖς ἐρῶσιν· οὐκ εἰμὶ ἐμαυτοῦ, μαίνομαι.
23. Even Epicurus is sensible that we are by nature sociable beings; but having once placed our good in the mere outward shell, he can say nothing afterwards inconsistent with that; for again, he strenuously maintains that we ought not to admire or accept anything separated from the nature of good, and he is in the right to maintain it. But how, then, arise any affectionate anxieties, unless there be such a thing as natural affection towards our offspring? Then why do you, Epicurus, dissuade a wise man from bringing up children? Why are you afraid that upon their account he may fall into anxieties? Does he fall into any for a mouse, that feeds within his house? What is it to him, if a little mouse bewails itself there? But Epicurus knew that, if once a child is born, it is no longer in our power not to love and be solicitous for it. On the same grounds he says that a wise man will not engage himself in public business, knowing very well what must follow. If men are only so many flies, why should he not engage in it? And does he, who knows all this, dare to forbid us to bring up children? Not even a sheep, or a wolf, deserts its offspring; and shall man? What would you have, that we should be as silly as sheep? Yet even these do not desert their offspring. Or as savage as wolves? Neither do these desert them. Pray, who would mind you, if he saw his child fallen upon the ground and crying? For my part, I am of opinion that your father and another, even if they could have foreseen that you would have been the author of such doctrines, would not have thrown you away.
23. ἐπινοεῖ καὶ Ἐπίκουρος ὅτι φύσει ἐσμὲν κοινωνικοί, ἀλλʼ ἅπαξ ἐν τῷ κελύφει θεὶς τὸ ἀγαθὸν ἡμῶν οὐκέτι δύναται ἄλλο οὐδὲν εἰπεῖν. πάλιν γὰρ ἐκείνου λίαν κρατεῖ, ὅτι οὐ δεῖ ἀπεσπασμένον οὐδὲν τῆς τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ οὐσίας οὔτε θαυμάζειν οὔτʼ ἀποδέχεσθαι· καὶ καλῶς αὐτοῦ κρατεῖ. πῶς οὖν ὑπονοητικοί ἐσμεν, οἷς μὴ φυσικὴ ἔστι πρὸς τὰ ἔγγονα φιλοστοργία; διὰ τί ἀποσυμβουλεύεις τῷ σοφῷ τεκνοτροφεῖν; τί φοβῇ μὴ διὰ ταῦτα εἰς λύπας ἐμπέσῃ; διὰ γὰρ τὸν μῦν τὸν ἔσω τρεφόμενον ἐμπίπτει; τί οὖν αὐτῷ μέλει, ἂν μυίδιον μικρὸν ἔσω κατακλαίῃ αὐτοῦ; ἀλλʼ οἶδεν, ὅτι, ἂν ἅπαξ γένηται παιδίον, οὐκέτι ἐφʼ ἡμῖν ἐστι μὴ στέργειν μηδὲ φροντίζειν ἐπʼ αὐτῷ. διὰ τοῦτο φησὶν οὐδὲ πολιτεύσεσθαι τὸν νοῦν ἔχοντα· οἶδεν γὰρ τίνα δεῖ ποιεῖν τὸν πολιτευόμενον· ἐπείτοι εἰ ὡς ἐν μυίαις μέλλεις ἀναστρέφεσθαι, τί κωλύει; ἀλλʼ ὅμως εἰδὼς ταῦτα τολμᾷ λέγειν ὅτι μὴ ἀναιρώμεθα τέκνα. ἀλλὰ πρόβατον μὲν οὐκ ἀπολείπει τὸ αὑτοῦ ἔγγονον οὐδὲ λύκος, ἄνθρωπος δʼ ἀπολείπει; τί θέλεις; μωροὺς ἡμᾶς εἶναι ὡς τὰ πρόβατα; οὐδʼ ἐκεῖνα ἀπολείπει. θηριώδεις ὡς τοὺς λύκους; οὐδʼ ἐκεῖνοι ἀπολείπουσιν. ἄγε, τίς δέ σοι πείθεται ἰδὼν παιδίον αὐτοῦ κλαῖον ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν πεπτωκός; ἐγὼ μὲν οἶμαι ὅτι εἰ καὶ ἐμαντεύσατο ἡ μήτηρ σου καὶ ὁ πατήρ, ὅτι μέλλεις ταῦτα λέγειν, οὐκ ἄν σε ἔρριψαν.
24. Difficulties are things that show what men are. For the future, in case of any difficulty, remember that God, like a gymnastic trainer, has pitted you against a rough antagonist. For what end? That you may be an Olympic conqueror; and this cannot be without toil. No man, in my opinion, has a more profitable difficulty on his hands than you have, provided you will but use it, as an athletic champion uses his antagonist. Suppose we were to send you as a scout to Rome. But no one ever sends a timorous scout, who, when he only hears a noise, or sees a shadow, runs back frightened, and says, “The enemy is at hand.” So now, if you should come and tell us, “Things are in a fearful way at Rome; death is terrible, banishment terrible, calumny terrible, poverty terrible; run, good people, the enemy is at hand;” we will answer, Get you gone, and prophesy for yourself; our only fault is that we have sent such a scout. Diogenes was sent as a scout before you, but he told us other tidings. He says that death is no evil, for it is nothing base; that calumny is only the noise of madmen. And what account did this spy give us of pain, of pleasure, of poverty? He says that to be naked is better than a purple robe; to sleep upon the bare ground, the softest bed; and gives a proof of all he says by his own courage, tranquillity, and freedom, and, moreover, by a healthy and robust body. “There is no enemy near,” he says; “all is profound peace.” How so, Diogenes? “Look upon me,” he says. “Am I hurt? Am I wounded? Have I run away from any one?” This is a scout worth having. But you come, and tell us one tale after another. Go back and look more carefully, and without fear. “What shall I do, then?” What do you do when you land from a ship? Do you take away with you the rudder, or the oars? What do you take, then? Your own, your bundle and your flask. So, in the present case, if you will but remember what is your own, you will not covet what belongs to others. If some tyrant bids you put off your consular robe,—“Well, I am in my equestrian robe.” Put off that too. “I have only my coat.” Put off that too. “Well, I am naked.” I am not yet satisfied. “Then e’en take my whole body. If I can throw off a paltry body, am I any longer afraid of a tyrant?” “But such a one will not leave me his heir.” What, then, have I forgotten, that such possessions are never really mine? How, then, do we call them ours? It is as with a bed in an inn. If the landlord, when he dies. leaves you the bed. well and good; but if to another, it will be his, and you will seek one elsewhere; and consequently, if you do not find one, you will sleep upon the ground; only sleep fearlessly and profoundly, and remember that tragedies find their theme among the rich and kings and tyrants. No poor man fills any other place in one than as part of the chorus; whereas, kings begin indeed with prosperity: “Crown the palace;” but continue about the third and fourth act: “Alas, Citheron! why didst thou receive me!” Where are thy crowns, wretch; where is thy diadem? Cannot thy guards help thee? Whenever you are brought into any such society, think then that you meet a tragic actor, or, rather, not an actor, but Oedipus himself. “But such a one is happy; he walks with a numerous train.” Well, I too walk with a numerous train. But remember the principal thing,—that the door is open. Do not be more fearful than children; but as they, when the play dues not please them, say, “will play no longer,” so do you, in the same case, say, “will play no longer,” and go; but, if you stay, do not complain.
24. αἱ περιστάσεις εἰσὶν αἱ τοὺς ἄνδρας δεικνύουσαι. λοιπὸν ὅταν ἐμπέσῃ περίστασις, μέμνησο ὅτι ὁ θεός σε ὡς ἀλείπτης τραχεῖ νεανίσκῳ συμβέβληκεν. — ἵνα τί; φησίν. — ἵνα Ὀλυμπιονίκης γένῃ· δίχα δʼ ἱδρῶτος οὐ γίγνεται. ἐμοὶ μὲν οὐδεὶς δοκεῖ κρείσσονα ἐσχηκέναι περίστασιν ἧς σὺ ἔσχηκας, ἂν θέλῃς ὡς ἀθλητὴς νεανίσκῳ χρῆσθαι. καὶ νῦν ἡμεῖς γε εἰς τὴν Ῥώμην κατάσκοπον πέμπομεν. οὐδεὶς δὲ δειλὸν κατάσκοπον πέμπει, ἵνʼ, ἂν μόνον ἀκούσῃ ψόφου καὶ σκιάν ποθεν ἴδῃ, τρέχων ἔλθῃ τεταραγμένος καὶ λέγων ἤδη παρεῖναι τοὺς πολεμίους. οὕτως νῦν καὶ σὺ ἂν ἐλθὼν ἡμῖν εἴπῃς φοβερὰ τὰ ἐν Ῥώμῃ πράγματα, δεινόν ἐστι θάνατος, δεινόν ἐστι φυγή, δεινὸν λοιδορία, δεινὸν πενία· φεύγετε ἄνδρες, πάρεισιν οἱ πολέμιοι, ἐροῦμέν σοι ἄπελθε, σεαυτῷ μαντεύου· ἡμεῖς τοῦτο μόνον ἡμάρτομεν, ὅτι τοιοῦτον κατάσκοπον ἐπέμπομεν. πρὸ σοῦ κατάσκοπος ἀποσταλεὶς Διογένης ἄλλα ἡμῖν ἀπήγγελκεν. λέγει ὅτι ὁ θάνατος οὐκ ἔστι κακόν, οὐδὲ γὰρ αἰσχρόν· λέγει ὅτι ἀδοξία ψόφος ἐστὶ μαινομένων ἀνθρώπων. οἷα δὲ περὶ πόνου, οἷα δὲ περὶ ἡδονῆς, οἷα περὶ πενίας εἴρηκεν οὗτος ὁ κατάσκοπος. τὸ δὲ γυμν[ασι]ὸν εἶναι λέγει ὅτι κρεῖσσόν ἐστι πάσης περιπορφύρου· τὸ δʼ ἐπʼ ἀστρώτῳ πέδῳ καθεύδειν λέγει ὅτι μαλακωτάτη κοίτη ἐστίν. καὶ ἀπόδειξιν φέρει περὶ ἑκάστου τὸ θάρσος τὸ αὑτοῦ, τὴν ἀταραξίαν, τὴν ἐλευθερίαν, εἶτα καὶ τὸ σωμάτιον στίλβον καὶ συνεστραμμένον. οὐδείς, φησίν, πολέμιος ἐγγύς ἐστιν· πάντα εἰρήνης γέμει. πῶς, ὦ Διόγενες; ἰδού, φησίν, μή τι βέβλημαι, μή τι τέτρωμαι, μή τινα πέφευγα; τοῦτʼ ἔστιν οἷος δεῖ κατάσκοπος, σὺ δʼ ἡμῖν ἐλθὼν ἄλλα ἐξ ἄλλων λέγεις. οὐκ ἀπελεύσῃ πάλιν καὶ ὄψει ἀκριβέστερον δίχα τῆς δειλίας; τί οὖν ποιήσω;— τί ποιεῖς, ἐκ πλοίου ὅταν ἐξίῃς; μή τι τὸ πηδάλιον αἴρεις, μή τι τὰς κώπας; τί οὖν αἴρεις; τὰ σά, τὴν λήκυθον, τὴν πήραν. καὶ νῦν ἂν ᾖς μεμνημένος τῶν σῶν, οὐδέποτε τῶν ἀλλοτρίων ἀντιποιήσῃ. λέγει σοι θὲς τὴν πλατύσημον· ἰδοὺ στενόσημος. θὲς καὶ ταύτην· ἰδοὺ ἱμάτιον μόνον. θὲς τὸ ἱμάτιον· ἰδοὺ γυμνός. ἀλλὰ φθόνον μοι κινεῖς. λάβε τοίνυν ὅλον τὸ σωμάτιον. ᾧ δύναμαι ῥῖψαι τὸ σωμάτιον, ἔτι τοῦτον φοβοῦμαι; ἀλλὰ κληρονόμον μʼ οὐκ ἀπολείψει. τί οὖν; ἐπελαθόμην ὅτι τούτων οὐδὲν ἐμὸν ἦν; πῶς οὖν ἐμὰ αὐτὰ λέγομεν; ὡς τὸν κράβαττον ἐν τῷ πανδοκείῳ. ἂν οὖν ὁ πανδοκεὺς ἀποθανὼν ἀπολίπῃ σοι τοὺς κραβάττους· ἂν δʼ ἄλλῳ, ἐκεῖνος ἕξει, σὺ δʼ ἄλλον ζητήσεις· ἂν οὖν μὴ εὕρῃς, χαμαὶ κοιμήσῃ μόνον θαρρῶν καὶ ῥέγκων καὶ μεμνημένος ὅτι ἐν τοῖς πλουσίοις καὶ βασιλεῦσι καὶ τυράννοις αἱ τραγῳδίαι τόπον ἔχουσιν, οὐδεὶς δὲ πένης τραγῳδίαν συμπληροῖ εἰ μὴ ὡς χορευτής. οἱ δὲ βασιλεῖς ἄρχονται μὲν ἀπʼ ἀγαθῶν· στέψατε δώματα· εἶτα περὶ τρίτον ἢ τέταρτον μέρος· ἰὼ Κιθαιρών, τί μʼ ἐδέχου; ἀνδράποδον, ποῦ οἱ στέφανοι, ποῦ τὸ διάδημα; οὐδέν σε ὠφελοῦσιν οἱ δορυφόροι; ὅταν οὖν ἐκείνων τινὶ προσίῃς, τούτων μέμνησο, ὅτι τραγῳδῷ προσέρχῃ, οὐ τῷ ὑποκριτῇ, ἀλλʼ αὐτῷ τῷ Οἰδίποδι. ἀλλὰ μακάριος ὁ δεῖνα· μετὰ πολλῶν γὰρ περιπατεῖ. κἀγὼ συγκατατάττω ἐμαυτὸν σὺν τοῖς πολλοῖς καὶ μετὰ πολλῶν περιπατῶ. τὸ δὲ κεφάλαιον· μέμνησο ὅτι ἡ θύρα ἤνοικται. μὴ γίνου τῶν παιδίων δειλότερος, ἀλλʼ ὡς ἐκεῖνα, ὅταν αὐτοῖς μὴ ἀρέσκῃ τὸ πρᾶγμα, λέγει οὐκέτι παίξω, καὶ σύ, ὅταν σοι φαίνηταί τινα εἶναι τοιαῦτα, εἰπὼν οὐκέτι παίξω ἀπαλλάσσου, μένων δὲ μὴ θρήνει.
25. If these things are true; and if we are not stupid or insincere when we say that the good or ill of man lies within his own will, and that all beside is nothing to us, why are we still troubled? Why do we still fear? What truly concerns us is in no one’s power; what is in the power of others concerns not us. What embarrassment have we left? “But you must direct me.” Why should I direct you? Has not Zeus directed you? Has he not given you what is your own. incapable of restraint or hindrance; and what is not your own, liable to both? What directions, then, what orders, have you brought from him? “By all means guard what is your own; what belongs to others do not covet. Honesty is your own; a sense of virtuous shame is your own. Who, then, can deprive you of these? Who can restrain you from making use of them, but yourself? And how do you do it? When you make that your concern which is not truly your own, you lose that which is.” Having such precepts and directions from Zeus, what sort do you still want from me? Am I better than He, or more worthy of credit? If you observe these precepts, what others do you need? Are not these His? Apply the. recognized principles; apply the demonstrations of philosophers; apply what you have often heard, and what you have said yourself; what you have read, and what you have carefully studied. How long is it right to devote one’s self to these things and not break up the game? As long as it goes on well. A king is chosen at the Saturnalian Festival, supposing it to be agreed to play at that game; he orders: “Do you drink; you mix the wine; you sing: you go; you come.” I obey, that the game may not be broken up by my fault. [Then he orders] “bid you think yourself to be unhappy.” I do not think so; and who shall compel me to think so? Again, suppose we agree to play Agamemnon and Achilles. He who is appointed for Agamemnon says to me, “Go to Achilles, and force away Briseis.” I go. “Come.” I come. We should deal with life as with these imaginary orders. “Suppose it to be night.” Well, suppose it. “Is it day then?” No; for I admitted the hypothesis, that it was night. “Suppose that you think it to be night.” Well, suppose it. “But you must really think that it is night.” That by no means follows from the hypothesis. Thus it is in the case illustrated. Suppose you have ill luck? Suppose it. “Are you then unlucky?” Yes. “Are you thoroughly unfortunate?” Yes. “Well; but you must really regard yourself as miserable.” But this is no part of the assumption, and there is a power who forbids me [to admit that]. How far, then, are we to carry such analogies? As far as is useful; that is, till we go farther than is reasonable and fit. Moreover, some are peevish and fastidious, and say, I cannot dine with such a fellow, to be obliged to hear him all day recounting how he fought in Mysia. “I told you, my friend, how I gained the eminence.” There I begin to suffer another siege. But another says, “had rather get a dinner, and hear him prate as much as he pleases.” Do you decide between these opinions; but do not let it be with depression and anxiety, and the assumption that you are miserable, for no one compels you to that. Is there smoke in my house? If it be moderate, I will stay; if very great, I will go out. For you must always remember, and hold to this, that the door is open. “You are forbidden to live at Nicopolis.” Then I will not live there. “Nor at Athens.” Well, nor at Athens. “Nor at Rome.” Nor at Rome. “But you shall live at Gyaros.” I will live there. But suppose that living at Gyaros seems to me like living in a great smoke. I can then retire where no one can forbid me to live, for it is an abode open to all, and put off my last garment, this poor body of mine; beyond this, no one has any power over me. Thus Demetrius said to Nero: “You sentence me to death; and Nature you.” If I prize my body first, I have surrendered myself as a slave; if my estate, the same; for I at once betray where I am vulnerable. Just as when a reptile pulls in his head, I bid you strike that part of him which he guards; and be you assured, that wherever you show a desire to guard yourself. there your master will attack you. Remember but this, and whom will you any longer flatter or fear? “But I want to sit where the senators do.” Do not you see, that by this you incommode and torment yourself? “Why, how else shall I see the show in the Amphitheatre advantageously?” Do not insist on seeing it, O man! and you will not be incommoded. Why do you vex yourself? Or wait a little while; and when the show is over, go sit in the senators’ places and sun yourself. For remember, that this holds universally,—we incommode and torment ourselves; that is, our own preconceived notions do it for us. What is it to be reviled, for instance? Stand by a stone and revile it, and what will you get by it? If you, therefore, would listen only as a stone, what would your reviler gain? But if the reviler has the weakness of the reviled for a vantage-ground, then he carries his point. “Strip him” [bids the tyrant]. What mean you by him? Take my clothes, strip them, at your pleasure. “I meant only to insult you.” Much good may it do you. These things were the study of Socrates; and by these means he always preserved the same countenance. Yet we had rather exercise and study anything, than how to become unrestrained and free. “But the philosophers talk paradoxes.” And are there not paradoxes in other arts? What is more paradoxical than to prick any one’s eye, that he may see? Should one tell this to one ignorant of surgery, would not he laugh at him? What wonder then, if in philosophy also many truths appear paradoxes to the ignorant?
25. εἰ ταῦτα ἀληθῆ ἐστι καὶ μὴ βλακεύομεν μηδʼ ὑποκρινόμεθα ὅτι τὸ ἀγαθὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐν προαιρέσει καὶ τὸ κακόν, τὰ δʼ ἄλλα πάντα οὐδὲν πρὸς ἡμᾶς, τί ἔτι ταρασσόμεθα, τί ἔτι φοβούμεθα; περὶ ἃ ἐσπουδάκαμεν, τούτων ἐξουσίαν οὐδεὶς ἔχει· ὧν ἐξουσίαν οἱ ἄλλοι ἔχουσιν, τούτων οὐκ ἐπιστρεφόμεθα. ποῖον ἔτι πρᾶγμα ἔχομεν; — ἀλλὰ ἔντειλαί μοι. — τί σοι ἐντείλωμαι; ὁ Ζεύς σοι οὐκ ἐντέταλται; οὐ δέδωκέν σοι τὰ μὲν σὰ ἀκώλυ[σ]τα καὶ ἀπαραπόδιστα, τὰ δὲ μὴ σὰ κωλυτὰ καὶ παραποδιστά; τίνα οὖν ἐντολὴν ἔχων ἐκεῖθεν ἐλήλυθας, ποῖον διάταγμα; τὰ σὰ τήρει ἐκ παντὸς τρόπου, τῶν ἀλλοτρίων μὴ ἐφίεσο. τὸ πιστὸν σόν …· τίς οὖν ἀφελέσθαι δύναταί σου ταῦτα; τίς κωλύσει χρῆσθαι αὐτοῖς ἄλλος εἰ μὴ σύ; σὺ δὲ πῶς; ὅταν περὶ τὰ μὴ σαυτοῦ σπουδάσῃς, τὰ σαυτοῦ ἀπώλεσας. τοιαύτας ἔχων ὑποθήκας καὶ ἐντολὰς παρὰ τοῦ Διὸς ποίας ἔτι παρʼ ἐμοῦ θέλεις; κρείσσων εἰμὶ ἐκείνου, ἀξιοπιστότερος; ἀλλὰ ταύτας τηρῶν ἄλλων τινῶν προσδέῃ; ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνος οὐκ ἐντέταλται ταῦτα; φέρε τὰς προλήψεις, φέρε τὰς ἀποδείξεις τὰς τῶν φιλοσόφων, φέρε ἃ πολλάκις ἤκουσας, φέρε δʼ ἃ εἶπας αὐτός, φέρε ἃ ἀνέγνως, φέρε ἃ ἐμελέτησας. μέχρις οὖ ν τίνος ταῦτα τηρεῖν καλῶς ἔχει[ς] καὶ τὴν παιδιὰν μὴ λύειν; μέχρις ἂν κομψῶς διεξάγηται. ἐν Σατορναλίοις λέλογχεν βασιλεύς· ἔδοξε γὰρ παῖξαι ταύτην τὴν παιδιάν. προστάσσει σὺ πίε, σὺ κέρασον, σὺ ᾆσον, σὺ ἄπελθε, σὺ ἐλθέ. ὑπακούω, ἵνα μὴ παρʼ ἐμὲ λύηται ἡ παιδιά. ἀλλὰ σὺ ὑπολάμβανε ὅτι ἐν κακοῖς εἶ. οὐχ ὑπολαμβάνω· καὶ τίς μʼ ἀναγκάσει ὑπολαμβάνειν; πάλιν συνεθέμεθα παῖξαι τὰ περὶ Ἀγαμέμνονα καὶ Ἀχιλλέα. καταταγεὶς Ἀγαμέμνων λέγει μοι πορεύου πρὸς τὸν Ἀχιλλέα καὶ ἀπόσπασον τὴν Βρισηίδα. πορεύομαι. ἔρχου. ἔρχομαι. ὡς γὰρ ἐπὶ τῶν ὑποθετικῶν λόγων ἀναστρεφόμεθα, οὕτως δεῖ καὶ ἐπὶ τοῦ βίου. ἔστω νύξ. ἔστω. τί οὖν; ἡμέρα ἐστίν; οὔ· ἔλαβον γὰρ ὑπόθεσιν τοῦ νύκτα εἶναι. ἔστω σε ὑπολαμβάνειν ὅτι νύξ ἐστιν. ἔστω. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὑπόλαβε ὅτι νύξ ἐστιν. οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ τῇ ὑποθέσει. οὕτως καὶ ἐνταῦθα. ἔστω σε εἶναι δυστυχῆ. ἔστω. ἆρʼ οὖν ἀτυχὴς εἶ; ναί. τί οὖν; κακοδαιμονεῖς; ναί. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὑπόλαβε ὅτι ἐν κακοῖς εἶ. οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ τῇ ὑποθέσει· καὶ ἄλλος με κωλύει. μέχρι πόσου οὖν ὑπακουστέον τοῖς τοιούτοις; μέχρις ἂν οὗ λυσιτελῇ, τοῦτο δʼ ἔστιν μέχρις ἂν οὗ σῴζω τὸ πρέπον καὶ κατάλληλον. λοιπὸν οἱ μέν εἰσι κακαύστηροι καὶ κακοστόμαχοι καὶ λέγουσιν ἐγὼ οὐ δύναμαι παρὰ τούτῳ δειπνεῖν, ἵνʼ αὐτοῦ ἀνέχομαι καθʼ ἡμέραν διηγουμένου, πῶς ἐν Μυσίᾳ ἐπολέμησεν· διηγησάμην σοι, ἀδελφέ, πῶς ἐπὶ τὸν λόφον ἀνέβην· πάλιν ἄρχομαι πολιορκεῖσθαι. ἄλλος λέγει ἐγὼ δειπνῆσαι θέλω μᾶλλον καὶ ἀκούειν αὐτοῦ ὅσα θέλει ἀδολεσχοῦντος. καὶ σὺ σύγκρινε ταύτας τὰς ἀξίας· μόνον μηδὲν βαρούμενος ποίει, μὴ θλιβόμενος μηδʼ ὑπολαμβάνων ἐν κακοῖς εἶναι· τοῦτο γὰρ οὐδείς σε ἀναγκάζει. καπνὸν πεποίηκεν ἐν τῷ οἰκήματι; ἂν μέτριον, μενῶ· ἂν λίαν πολύν, ἐξέρχομαι. τούτου γὰρ μεμνῆσθαι καὶ κρατεῖν, ὅτι ἡ θύρα ἤνοικται. ἀλλὰ μὴ οἴκει ἐν Νικοπόλει. οὐκ οἰκῶ. μηδʼ ἐν Ἀθήναις. οὐδʼ ἐν Ἀθήναις. μηδʼ ἐν Ῥώμῃ. οὐδʼ ἐν Ῥώμῃ. ἐν Γυάροις οἴκει. οἰκῶ. ἀλλὰ πολύς μοι καπνὸς φαίνεται τὸ ἐν Γυάροις οἰκεῖν. ἀποχωρῶ, ὅπου μʼ οὐδεὶς κωλύσει οἰκεῖν· ἐκείνη γὰρ ἡ οἴκησις παντὶ ἤνοικται. καὶ τὸ τελευταῖον χιτωνάριον, τοῦτʼ ἔστι τὸ σωμάτιον, τούτου ἀνωτέρω οὐδενὶ οὐδὲν εἰς ἐμὲ ἔξεστιν. διὰ τοῦτο ὁ Δημήτριος εἶπεν τῷ Νέρωνι ἀπειλεῖς μοι θάνατον, σοὶ δʼ ἡ φύσις. ἂν δὲ τὸ σωμάτιον θαυμάσω, δοῦλον ἐμαυτὸν παραδέδωκα· ἂν τὸ κτησείδιον, δοῦλον. εὐθὺς γὰρ [ἐμ]αὐτὸς κατʼ ἐμαυτοῦ δηλῶ, τίνι ἁλωτός εἰμι. ὡς ὁ ὄφις ἐὰν συσπᾷ τὴν κεφαλήν, λέγω ἐκεῖνο αὐτοῦ τύπτε ὃ φυλάσσει. καὶ σὺ γίγνωσκε, ὅτι ὃ ἂν φυλάσσειν ἐθέλῃς, κατʼ ἐκεῖνο ἐπιβήσεταί σοι ὁ κύριος. τούτων μεμνημένος τίνα ἔτι κολακεύσεις ἢ φοβήσῃ; ἀλλὰ θέλω καθῆσθαι ὅπου οἱ συγκλητικοί.— ὁρᾷς ὅτι σὺ σαυτῷ στενοχωρίαν παρέχεις, σὺ σαυτὸν θλίβεις; — πῶς οὖν ἄλλως θεωρήσω καλῶς ἐν τῷ ἀμφιθεάτρῳ; — ἄνθρωπε, καὶ μὴ θεώρει καὶ οὐ μὴ θλιβῇς. τί πράγματα ἔχεις; ἢ μικρὸν ἔκδεξαι καὶ ἀχθείσης τῆς θεωρίας κάθισον εἰς τοὺς τῶν συγκλητικῶν τόπους καὶ ἡλιάζου. καθόλου γὰρ ἐκείνου μέμνησο, ὅτι ἑαυτοὺς θλίβομεν, ἑαυτοὺς στενοχωροῦμεν, τοῦτʼ ἔστιν τὰ δόγματα ἡμᾶς θλίβει καὶ στενοχωρεῖ. ἐπεὶ τί ἐστιν αὐτὸ τὸ λοιδορεῖσθαι; παραστὰς λίθον λοιδόρει· καὶ τί ποιήσεις; ἂν οὖν τις ὡς λίθος ἀκούῃ, τί ὄφελος τῷ λοιδοροῦντι; ἂν δʼ ἔχῃ τὴν ἀσθένειαν τοῦ λοιδορουμένου ὁ λοιδορῶν ἐπιβάθραν, τότε ἀνύει τι. περίσχισον αὐτόν. τί λέγεις αὐτόν; τὸ ἱμάτιον λάβε, περίσχισον. ὕβριν σοι πεποίηκα. καλῶς σοι γένοιτο. ταῦτα ἐμελέτα Σωκράτης, διὰ τοῦτο ἓν ἔχων πρόσωπον ἀεὶ διετέλει. ἡμεῖς δὲ θέλομεν πάντα μᾶλλον ἀσκεῖν καὶ μελετᾶν ἢ ὅπως ἀπαραπόδιστοι καὶ ἐλεύθεροι ἐσόμεθα. παράδοξα λέγουσιν οἱ φιλόσοφοι. ἐν δὲ ταῖς ἄλλαις τέχναις οὐκ ἔστι παράδοξα; καὶ τί παραδοξότερόν ἐστιν ἢ κεντεῖν τινος τὸν ὀφθαλμόν, ἵνα ἴδῃ; εἴ τις ἀπείρῳ τῶν ἰατρικῶν τοῦτο εἶπεν, οὐκ ἂν κατεγέλα τοῦ λέγοντος; τί οὖν θαυμαστὸν εἰ καὶ ἐν φιλοσοφίᾳ πολλὰ τῶν ἀληθῶν παράδοξα φαίνεται τοῖς ἀπείροις;
26. S some one was reading hypothetical propositions, Epictetus remarked that it was a rule in these to admit whatever was in accordance with the hypothesis, but much more a rule in life to do what was in accordance with nature. For, if we desire in every matter and on every occasion to conform to nature, we must on every occasion evidently make it our aim, neither to omit anything thus conformabley nor to admit anything inconsistent. Philosophers, therefore, first exercise us in theory, which is the more easy task, and then lead us to the more difficult; for in theory there is nothing to hinder our following what we are taught, but in life there are many things to draw us aside. It is ridiculous, then, to say we must begin with these applications, for it is not easy to begin with the most difficult; and this excuse children should make to those parents who dislike that they should study philosophy. “Am I to blame then, sir, and ignorant of my duty, and of what is incumbent on me? If this is neither to be learned, nor taught, why do you find fault with me? If it is to be taught, pray teach me yourself; or, if you cannot, let me learn it from those who profess to understand it. For what think you; that I voluntarily fall into evil, and miss good? Heaven forbid! What, then, is the cause of my faults? Ignorance. Are you not willing, then, that I should get rid of my ignorance? Who was ever taught the art of music, or navigation, by anger? Do you expect, then, that your anger should teach me the art of living?” This, however, can properly be said only by one who is really in earnest. But he who reads these things, and applies to the philosophers, merely for the sake of showing, at some entertainment, that he understands hypothetical reasonings, what aim has he but to be admired by some senator, who happens to sit near him? Great possessions may be won by such aims as that, but what we hold as wealth passes there for folly. It is hard, therefore, to overcome by appearances, where vain things thus pass for great. I once saw a person weeping and embracing the Knees of Epaphroditus, and deploring his hard fortune, that he had not more than 150,000 drachmae left. What said Epaphroditus then? Did he laugh at him, as we should do? No; but cried out with astonishment: “Poor man! How could you be silent under it? How could you bear it?” The first step, therefore, towards becoming a philosopher is to be sensible in what state the ruling faculty of the mind is; for on knowing it to be weak, no person will immediately employ it in great attempts. But, for want of this, some who can scarce digest a crumb will yet buy and swallow whole treatises; and so they throw them up again, or cannot digest them; and then come colics, fluxes, and fevers. Such persons ought to consider what they can bear. Indeed, it is easy to convince an ignorant person, so far as concerns theory; but in matters relating to life, no one offers himself to conviction, and we hate those who have convinced us. Socrates used to say, that we ought not to live a life unexamined.
26. ἀναγιγνώσκοντος δὲ τοὺς ὑποθετικοὺς ἔφη Νόμος ὑποθετικός ἐστι καὶ οὗτος τὸ ἀκόλουθον τῇ ὑποθέσει παραδέχεσθαι. πολὺ πρότερον δὲ νόμος βιωτικός ἐστιν οὗτος τὸ ἀκόλουθον τῇ φύσει πράττειν. εἰ γὰρ ἐπὶ πάσης ὕλης καὶ περιστάσεως βουλόμεθα τηρῆσαι τὸ κατὰ φύσιν, δῆλον ὅτι ἐν παντὶ στοχαστέον τοῦ μήτε τὸ ἀκόλουθον ἡμᾶς ἐκφυγεῖν μήτε παραδέξασθαι τὸ μαχόμενον. πρῶτον οὖν ἐπὶ τῆς θεωρίας γυμνάζουσιν ἡμᾶς οἱ φιλόσοφοι ὅπου ῥᾷον, εἶτα οὕτως ἐπὶ τὰ χαλεπώτερα ἄγουσιν· ἐνταῦθα γὰρ οὐδέν ἐστι τὸ ἀνθέλκον ὡς πρὸς τὸ ἀκολουθῆσαι τοῖς διδασκομένοις, ἐπὶ δὲ τῶν βιωτικῶν πολλὰ τὰ περισπῶντα. γελοῖος οὖν ὁ λέγων πρῶτον βούλεσθαι ἐπʼ ἐκείνων· οὐ γὰρ ῥᾴδιον ἄρχεσθαι ἀπὸ τῶν χαλεπωτέρων. καὶ τοῦτον ἀπολογισμὸν ἔδει φέρειν πρὸς τοὺς γονεῖς τοὺς ἀγανακτοῦντας ἐπὶ τῷ φιλοσοφεῖν τὰ τέκνα. οὐκοῦν ἁμαρτάνω, πάτερ, καὶ οὐκ οἶδα τὸ ἐπιβάλλον ἐμαυτῷ καὶ προσῆκον· εἰ μὲν οὐδὲ μαθητόν ἐστιν οὐδὲ διδακτόν, τί μοι ἐγκαλεῖς; εἰ δὲ διδακτόν, δίδασκε· εἰ δὲ σὺ μὴ δύνασαι, ἄφες με μαθεῖν παρὰ τῶν λεγόντων εἰδέναι. ἐπεὶ τί δοκεῖς; ὅτι θέλων περιπίπτω κακῷ καὶ ἀποτυγχάνω τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ; μὴ γένοιτο. τί οὖν ἐστι τὸ αἴτιον τοῦ ἁμαρτάνειν με; ἡ ἄγνοια. οὐ θέλεις οὖν ἀποθῶμαι τὴν ἄγνοιαν; τίνα πώποτε ὀργὴ[ν] ἐδίδαξε τὰ κυβερνητικά, τὰ μουσικά; τὰ βιωτικὰ οὖν διὰ τὴν ὀργήν σου δοκεῖς ὅτι μαθήσομαι; ταῦτα ἐκείνῳ μόνῳ λέγειν ἔξεστι τῷ τοιαύτην ἐπιβολὴν ἐνηνοχότι. εἰ δέ τις μόνον ἐπιδείκνυσθαι θέλων ἐν συμποσίῳ ὅτι οἶδεν τοὺς ὑποθετικοὺς ἀναγιγνώσκει ταῦτα καὶ προσέρχεται τοῖς φιλοσόφοις, οὗτος ἄλλο τι πράσσει ἵνα αὐτὸν συγκλητικὸς παρακατακείμενος θαυμάσει; ἐκεῖ γὰρ τῷ ὄντι αἱ μεγάλαι ὗλαί εἰσι καὶ οἱ ἐνθάδε πλοῦτοι ἐκεῖ παίγνια δοκοῦσιν. διὰ τοῦτο ἐκεῖ δύσκολον κρατῆσαι τῶν αὑτοῦ φαντασιῶν, ὅπου τὰ ἐκ σείοντα μεγάλα. ἐγώ τινα οἶδα κλαίοντα Ἐπαφροδίτου τῶν γονάτων ἁπτόμενον καὶ λέγοντα ταλαιπωρεῖν· ἀπολελεῖφθαι γὰρ αὐτῷ μηδέν, εἰ μὴ ἑκατὸν πεντήκοντα μυριάδας. τί οὖν ὁ Ἐπαφρόδιτος; κατεγέλασεν ὡς ὑμεῖς; οὔ· ἀλλʼ ἐπιθαυμάσας λέγει τάλας, πῶς οὖν ἐσιώπας, πῶς ἐκαρτέρεις; ταράξας δὲ τὸν ἀναγιγνώσκοντα τοὺς ὑποθετικοὺς καὶ γελάσαντος τοῦ ὑποθεμένου αὐτῷ τὴν ἀνάγνωσιν Σεαυτοῦ, ἔφη, καταγελᾷς· οὐ προεγύμνασας τὸν νεανίσκον οὐδʼ ἔγνως εἰ δύναται τούτοις παρακολουθεῖν, ἀλλʼ ὡς ἀναγνώστῃ αὐτῷ χρῇ. τί οὖν, ἔφη, μὴ δυναμένῃ διανοίᾳ συμπεπλεγμένου ἐπικρίσει παρακολουθεῖν ἔπαινον πιστεύομεν, ψόγον πιστεύομεν, ἐπίκρισιν περὶ τῶν καλῶς ἢ κακῶς γινομένων; κἄν τινα κακῶς λέγῃ, οὗτος ἐπιστρέφεται, κἂν ἐπαινῇ τινα, ἐπαίρεται; ἐν τοῖς οὕτως μικροῖς μὴ εὑρίσκων τὸ ἑξῆς; αὕτη οὖν ἀρχὴ τοῦ φιλοσοφεῖν, αἴσθησις τοῦ ἰδίου ἡγεμονικοῦ πῶς ἔχει· μετὰ γὰρ τὸ γνῶναι ὅτι ἀσθενῶς οὐκ ἔτι θελήσει χρῆσθαι αὐτῷ πρὸς τὰ μεγάλα. νῦν δὲ μὴ δυνάμενοί τινες τὸν ψωμὸν καταπίνειν σύνταξιν ἀγοράσαντες ἐπιβάλλονται ἐσθίειν. διὰ τοῦτο ἐμοῦσιν ἢ ἀπεπτοῦσιν· εἶτα στρόφοι καὶ κατάρροιαι καὶ πυρετοί. ἔδει δʼ ἐφιστάνειν, εἰ δύνανται. ἀλλʼ ἐν μὲν θεωρίᾳ ῥᾴδιον ἐξελέγξαι τὸν οὐκ εἰδότα, ἐν δὲ τοῖς κατὰ τὸν βίον οὔτε παρέχει ἑαυτόν τις ἐλέγχῳ τόν τʼ ἐξελέγξαντα μισοῦμεν. ὁ δὲ Σωκράτης ἔλεγεν ἀνεξέταστον βίον μὴ ζῆν.