Discourses and Enchiridion

That is the result the teacher would fain produce. And so now I am your teacher, and you are at school with me: and my purpose is this, to make you my completed work, untouched by hindrance or compulsion, or constraint, free, tranquil, happy, looking to God in everything small or great; and you are here to learn and practise these things. Why, then, do you not finish the work, if indeed you also have the purpose you should have, and if I have the purpose and the proper equipment also? What is it that is wanting? When I see a craftsman and material ready to his hand, I look for the finished work. Now here, too, is the craftsman, and here is the material. What do we lack? Is not the subject teachable? It is teachable. Is it not within our power then? Nay, it is the one thing of all others which is in our power. Wealth is not in our power, nor health, nor anything else, in a word, except the proper use of impressions. If teacher and pupil work together, it may be achieved. This alone, by nature's gift, is unhindered and untrammelled. Why, then, do you not finish the work? Tell me the reason: for it lies either in me or in you or in the nature of the thing. The achievement itself is possible, and rests with us alone. It follows then that the reason lies in me or in you, or, more truly, in both. What is my conclusion? Let us begin, if you only will, to carry out such purpose here and now. Let us leave behind what is past. Only let us begin; have trust in me, and you shall see.

CHAPTER XX Against followers of Epicurus and of the Academy. The Academics claim assent, though they deny that assent is possible. Even those who contradict propositions that are true and evident are obliged to make use of them. And indeed one may almost give as the strongest proof that a thing is evident that even he who contradicts it finds himself obliged to make use of it. For instance, if one should deny that any universal statement is true, plainly he cannot help asserting the contrary. 'No universal statement is true.' Slave, this is not true either: for what else is your assertion than, 'If a statement is universal, it is false?' Again, if one comes forward and says, 'Know that nothing is knowable, but that everything is unprovable,' or another says, 'Believe me, and it will be to your advantage; you ought not to believe a man at all'; or again, if another says, 'Learn from me, man, that it is impossible to learn anything; I tell you this, and will teach you, if you will.' What difference is there between such persons and—whom shall I say?—those who call themselves Academics? 'Men, give your assent to the statement that no man assents!' 'Believe us that no man believes any one!'

Epicurus denies human fellowship, but acts as if he recognised it So too Epicurus, when he wishes to get rid of the natural fellowship of men with one another, makes use of the very principle of which he is getting rid. For what does he say? 'Men, be not deceived, be not misled or deluded. There is no natural fellowship of rational beings with one another: believe me. Those who state the contrary deceive you and mislead your reason.'

What concern, then, is it of yours? Let us be deceived. Will you come off any the worse if the rest of us are all convinced that we have a natural fellowship with one another and that we are bound by all means to guard it? Nay, your position will be much better and more secure. Man, why do you take thought for our sake, why do you keep awake for us, why do you light your lamp, why do you rise early, why do you write such big books? Is it to prevent any of us being deluded into thinking that the gods have any care for mankind, or to prevent us from supposing that the nature of the good is anything but pleasure? For if this is so, be off with you and go to sleep; do as the worm does, for this is the life of which you pronounce yourself worthy: eating, drinking, copulation, evacuation, and snoring.

The Epicurean should reserve his doctrine for his fellows, and take advantage of the rest of the world. What does it matter to you, what opinions others will hold on these matters, or whether they are right or wrong? What have we to do with you? You take interest in sheep because they offer themselves to be shorn and milked and finally to be slaughtered by us. Would it not be desirable if men could be charmed and bewitched by the Stoics into slumber, and offer themselves to you and those like you to be shorn and milked? These sentiments were proper enough to utter to your fellow Epicureans; ought you not to conceal them from outsiders, and take special pains to convince them before all things that we are born with a sociable nature, that self-control is a good thing, that so you may secure everything for yourself? Or do you say we must maintain this fellowship towards some and not towards others? Towards whom, then, must we observe it? Towards those who observe it in their turn, or towards those who transgress it? And who transgress it more completely than you who have laid down these doctrines?

Plain English · paraphraseThe Epicurean should keep his teachings for his own group and benefit from the rest of the world. What difference does it make to you what opinions others have on these matters, or whether they are right or wrong? What business do we have with you? You care about sheep because they let themselves be sheared and milked and eventually slaughtered by us. Would it not be good if people could be lulled and enchanted by the Stoics into sleep, and then let themselves be sheared and milked by you and others like you? These ideas were fine to say to your fellow Epicureans; should you not keep them secret from outsiders, and especially work hard to convince them first of all that we are naturally sociable, that self-control is good, so that you can get everything you want for yourself? Or do you claim we must show this fellowship to some people but not to others? If so, to whom must we show it? To those who show it in return, or to those who break it? And who breaks it more completely than you, who have set down these very teachings?

But Nature was too strong for Epicurus, and forced him to preach his doctrine. What, then, was it that roused Epicurus from his slumbers and compelled him to write what he wrote? What else but that which is the most powerful of all human things, Nature, which draws a man to her will though he groan and resist? For (she says), because you hold these unsociable opinions, write them down and bequeath them to others and stay up late for them and by your own act accuse the very principles you maintain. What! we speak of Orestes pursued by the Furies and roused from his slumbers, but are not the Furies and Torments that beset Epicurus more exacting? They roused him from his sleep and would not allow him to rest, but compelled him to announce his miseries, as madness and wine compel the priests of Cybele. So powerful and unconquerable a thing is human nature. How can a vine be moved to act, not as a vine but as an olive, or again an olive not as an olive but as a vine? It is impossible, inconceivable. So it is impossible for man utterly to destroy the instincts of man; even those who have their bodily organs cut off cannot cut off the desires of men. Neither he nor the Academy can destroy human instincts. In the same way Epicurus, though he cut off all the attributes of a man and a householder and a citizen and a friend, could not cut off human desires. No, he could not do it, any more than the indolent Academics could cast away or blind their senses, though they have made this the chief object of their life. †Is not this sheer misfortune?† A man has received from Nature measures and standards for the discovery of truth, and instead of busying himself to add to them and to work out further results, he does exactly the opposite, and tries to remove and destroy any faculty which he possesses for discovering the truth.

Are philosophers to trifle with us, denying the claims of religion and yet acting as if they believed in them? What say you, philosopher? What is your view of religion and piety? 'If you will, I will prove that it is good.' Prove it then, that our fellow citizens may take heed and honour the Divine and cease at last from being indifferent as to the highest matters. 'Have you the proofs then?' I have, and am thankful for it! 'Since you find such an interest in these things, now hear the contrary: "The gods do not exist, and if they do, they pay no regard to men and we have no communion with them, and thus religion and piety, of which the multitude talk, are a lie of pretentious persons and sophists, or it may be of lawgivers, for the fear and deterrence of wrongdoers."' Bravo, philosopher! What a service you confer on our citizens! Our young men are already inclining to despise divine things, and you recover them for us! 'What is the matter? Does not this please you? Now learn, how justice is nothing, how self-respect is folly, how "father" and "son" are empty words.'

Plain English · paraphraseAre philosophers to play games with us, denying the claims of religion while acting as if they believe in them? What do you say, philosopher? What is your view of religion and piety? "If you wish, I will prove that it is good." Then prove it, so our fellow citizens may take notice and honor the Divine, and finally stop being indifferent to the most important matters. "Do you have the proofs?" I do, and I am grateful for them! "Since you take such an interest in these things, now listen to the opposite: 'The gods do not exist, and if they do, they pay no attention to men, and we have no connection with them. Therefore, religion and piety, which the common people talk about, are lies told by pretentious people and sophists, or perhaps by lawgivers, to instill fear and stop wrongdoers.'" Bravo, philosopher! What a service you do for our citizens! Our young men are already beginning to look down on divine things, and you bring them back to us! "What is the problem? Does this not please you? Now learn how justice is nothing, how self-respect is foolishness, how 'father' and 'son' are empty words."

Bravo, philosopher! Stick to your task, persuade our young men, that we may have more to agree with you and share your views. These, no doubt, are the arguments which have brought well-governed cities to greatness, these are the arguments which made Lacedaemon, these are the convictions which Lycurgus wrought into the Spartans by his laws and training: that slavery is no more shameful than noble, and freedom no more noble than shameful! For these beliefs no doubt those who died at Thermopylae died! And for what principles but these did the Athenians give up their city? And yet the men who state these theories marry and beget children and share in city life and appoint themselves priests and prophets. Of what? Of what has no existence! And they question the Pythian prophetess themselves, to learn lies, and they interpret oracles to others. Is not this the height of shameless imposition?

Such conduct is as foolish as to confuse one organ with another, or to refuse the evidence of the senses Man, what are you doing? You convict yourself of falsehood day by day: will you not abandon these crude fallacies? When you eat where do you put your hand, to your mouth or to your eye? When you bathe into what do you go? When did you ever call the jug a saucer or the ladle a spit? If I were slave to one of these men, I would torture him, even if I had to stand a flogging from him every day. Put a drop of oil, boy, in the bath.' I would get some fish sauce and pour it over his head. 'What is that? By your fortune I had an impression, very like oil, indistinguishable from it. 'Give me gruel here.' I would fill a dish with vinegar sauce and bring it him. 'Did I not ask for gruel?' Yes, master, this is gruel. 'Is not this vinegar sauce?' How is it more that than gruel? 'Take it and smell, take it and taste.'

Plain English · paraphraseThis behavior is as silly as mixing up one body part with another or denying what your senses tell you. Man, what are you doing? You prove yourself wrong every day. Will you not stop these silly mistakes? When you eat, do you put your hand to your mouth or to your eye? When you bathe, into what do you step? Have you ever called a jug a saucer or a ladle a spit? If I were a slave to one of these men, I would torment him, even if I had to take daily beatings from him. "Put a drop of oil, boy, in the bath." I would get some fish sauce and pour it over his head. "What is that?" "By your fortune, I had an impression, very like oil, indistinguishable from it." "Give me gruel here." I would fill a dish with vinegar sauce and bring it to him. "Did I not ask for gruel?" "Yes, master, this is gruel." "Is not this vinegar sauce?" "How is it more than that than gruel?" "Take it and smell, take it and taste."

How can you know if the senses play us false? If I had three or four fellow slaves who shared my mind I should give him such a dressing that he would hang himself, or change his opinion. Such men trifle with us; they take advantage of all the gifts of nature, while in theory they do away with them.

Plain English · paraphraseHow can you know if the senses trick us? If I had three or four fellow slaves who shared my mind, I would give him such a beating that he would hang himself or change his opinion. Such men play with us; they use up all the gifts of nature, while in theory they deny them.

These philosophers enjoy the gifts of Nature but disregard them, and do not consider the effect of their words. Grateful and self-respecting men indeed! they eat bread every day, to say nothing else, and yet dare to assert that we know not whether there is a Demeter or Kore or Pluto: not to say that they enjoy day and night and the changes of the year, the stars and sea and land and the service that men render, yet not one of these things makes them take notice in the least. No, their only aim is to vomit their paltry problem, and having thus exercised their stomach to go away and have a bath. But they have not given the slightest thought to what they are going to say: what subject they are going to speak about, or to whom, and what they are going to get from these arguments: whether any young man of noble spirit may be influenced by them or has been influenced already and may lose all the germs of nobility in him: whether we may be giving an adulterer opportunity to brazen out his acts: whether one who is embezzling public funds may find some excuse to lay hold of in these theories: whether one who neglects his parents may get from them fresh courage.

Plain English · paraphraseThese philosophers enjoy the gifts of nature but ignore them, and do not think about the effect of their words. Grateful and self-respecting men indeed! They eat bread every day, to say nothing else, and yet they claim we do not know whether there is a Demeter or Kore or Pluto. Not to mention that they enjoy day and night, the changes of the year, the stars, the sea, the land, and the service that people provide, yet not one of these things makes them pay the least attention. No, their only goal is to spit out their cheap problems, and after exercising their stomachs, they go away to take a bath. But they have not given the slightest thought to what they are going to say: what subject they are going to speak about, or to whom, and what they are going to gain from these arguments: whether any young man of noble spirit may be influenced by them or has already been influenced and may lose all the potential for nobility in him: whether we may be giving an adulterer the chance to make his actions seem bold: whether someone embezzling public funds may find some excuse to grab onto in these theories: whether someone who neglects his parents may get from them new courage.

They have no convictions and are beyond argument. What, then, do you hold good or evil, base or noble? Is it this doctrine, or that? It is useless to go on disputing with one of these men, or reasoning with him, or trying to alter his opinion. One might have very much more hope of altering the mind of a profligate than of men who are absolutely deaf and blind to their own miseries.

Plain English · paraphraseThey have no beliefs and cannot be reasoned with. So, what do you think is good or bad, low or noble? Is it this teaching, or that one? It is no use to keep arguing with such a person, or trying to reason with him, or to change his mind. You would have far more hope of changing the mind of a wicked person than of those who are completely deaf and blind to their own suffering.

CHAPTER XXI Concerning inconsistency of mind.

Men are ready to confess to some faults but not to others. There are some admissions which men readily make, others they do not. Now no one will admit that he is thoughtless or foolish: on the contrary, you will hear every one say, 'Would that I had luck as I have wits!' But men readily admit that they are cowards and say, 'I am a bit of a coward, I admit, but for the rest you will find me no fool'. A man will not readily own to incontinence, to injustice not at all, never to envy or fussiness, while most men will own to being pitiful. You ask what is the reason? The most vital reason is a confusion and want of consistency in men's views of what is good and evil, but, apart from this, different persons are affected by different motives; speaking generally, people are not ready to own to qualities which to their mind appear base. Cowardice and a sense of pity they imagine show good nature, silliness a slavish mind, and social faults they are least ready to admit. In most of the errors which they are inclined to confess to, it is because they think there is an involuntary element, as in the cowardly and the pitiful. So if any one does own to incontinence, he brings in passion, to give him the excuse of involuntary action. Injustice is in no circumstances conceived as involuntary. There is an involuntary element, they think, in jealousy, and for this reason this too is a fault which men confess.

Plain English · paraphraseMen are ready to admit some faults but not others. Some admissions they make easily, others they do not. No one will admit being thoughtless or foolish. On the contrary, everyone says, "I wish I had as much luck as I have wits!" But men readily admit being cowards and say, "I am a bit of a coward, I admit, but for the rest you will find me no fool." A man will not easily admit being incontinent, and never admit injustice, or envy, or fussiness, while most men will admit being pitiful. You ask why? The main reason is confusion and inconsistency in how men see good and evil. Also, different people are moved by different motives. Generally, people are not ready to admit qualities they think are base. Cowardice and pity they see as signs of good nature, silliness as a slavish mind, and social faults they are least ready to admit. Most of the errors they are willing to confess are those they think have an involuntary element, like cowardice and pity. So if anyone admits incontinence, he brings in passion, to excuse himself as acting involuntarily. Injustice is never seen as involuntary. Jealousy, they think, has an involuntary element, and for this reason it is a fault men are willing to confess.

Seeing men's ignorance we ought to be on our guard, Moving, then, as we do among men of this character, so bewildered, so ignorant of what they are saying, or of what evil is theirs, or whether they have any, or what is the reason of it, or how they are to be relieved, we ought ourselves, I think, to be constantly on our guard, asking ourselves, 'Am I too perhaps one of them? What impression have I of myself? How do I bear myself? Do I too bear myself as a man of prudence and self-control? Do I too sometimes say that I am educated to meet every emergency? Am I conscious, as the man who knows nothing should be, that I know nothing? lest we come to school in the wrong spirit. Do I come to my teacher as to the oracles, prepared to obey, or do I too come to school like a driveller, to learn nothing but history and to understand the books which I did not understand before, and if it so chance, to expound them to others?'

Man, you have had a boxing match with your slave at home, and turned your house upside down and disturbed your neighbours, and now do you come to me with a solemn air like a wise man and sit and criticize the way I interpret language, and how I rattle out anything that comes into my head? Do you come in a spirit of envy, depressed because nothing is brought you from home, and while the discussion is going on, sit thinking of nothing yourself but how you stand with your father or your brother? 'What are men at home saying about me? They are thinking now that I am making progress and say, "He will come back knowing everything". I did indeed wish to return one day if I could, having learnt everything, but it needs hard work, and no one sends me anything and the baths are shockingly bad in Nicopolis, and I am badly off in my lodgings and in the lecture-room.' Men carry away from the lecture-room what they come for. Then they say, 'No one gets any good from the lecture-room!'

Plain English · paraphraseYou had a boxing match with your slave at home, turned your house upside down, and disturbed your neighbors. Now you come to me with a serious look, like a wise man, and sit there criticizing how I interpret language and how I say whatever comes to mind. Are you here out of envy, feeling down because nothing is brought to you from home? While the discussion is going on, are you thinking only about how you stand with your father or your brother? "What are people at home saying about me? They must be thinking I'm making progress and say, 'He will come back knowing everything.'" I did hope to return one day, if I could, having learned everything. But it takes hard work. No one sends me anything, and the baths in Nicopolis are terrible. My lodgings and the lecture-room are bad too. People take away from the lecture-room what they came for. Then they say, "No one gets any good from the lecture-room!"

Why, who comes to the lecture-room? Who comes to be cured? Who comes to have his judgements purified? Who comes that he may grow conscious of his needs? Why are you surprised, then, that you carry away from school the very qualities you bring there, for you do not come to put away your opinions or to correct them, or to get others in exchange? No, far from it! What you must look to is whether you get what you come for. You wish to chatter about principles. Well, do you not come away with lighter tongues than before? Does not school afford you material for displaying your precious principles? Do you not analyse variable syllogisms? Do you not pursue the assumptions of 'The Liar' and hypothetical propositions? Why then do you go on being vexed If you want strength to face trouble, you must not ask for syllogisms, but come to school with a mind at peace. at getting what you come for? 'Yes, but if my child or my brother die, or if I must be racked and die myself, what good will such things do me?'

What! is this what you came for? Is this what you sit by me for? Did you ever light your lamp or sit up late for this? Or, when you have gone out for a walk, have you ever put a conception before your mind instead of a syllogism and pursued this with your companion? When have you ever done so? Then you say, 'Principles are useless.' To whom? To those who use them wrongly. For collyrium is not useless to those who anoint themselves at the right time and in the right way, plasters are not useless, leaping-weights are not useless, but only useless to some, and again useful to others. If you ask me now, 'Are syllogisms useful?' I shall say they are useful, and if you wish I will prove it. 'What good have they done me then?'

Man, did you ask whether they were useful in general, or useful to you? Suppose a man suffering from dysentery asked me, 'Is vinegar useful?' I shall say it is. 'Is it useful to me?' I shall say: 'No; seek first to get your flux stayed, and your ulcerations healed.' It is the same with you. You must first attend to your ulcers, and stay your flux, and arrive at peace in your mind and bring it to school undistracted, and then you will discover how wonderful the power of reason is.

CHAPTER XXII On Friendship. The wise man alone can love properly, for he knows what is good. A man naturally loves those things in which he is interested. Now do men take an interest in things evil? Certainly not. Do they take interest in what does not concern them? No, they do not. It follows then that they are interested in good things alone, and if interested in them, therefore love them too. Whoever then has knowledge of good things, would know how to love them; but how could one who cannot distinguish good things from evil and things indifferent from both have power to love? Therefore the wise man alone has power to love. Without wisdom man is subject to confusion and change, 'Nay, how is this?' says one. 'I am not wise, yet I love my child.'

By the gods, I am surprised, to begin with, at your admission that you are not wise. What do you lack? Do you not enjoy sensation, do you not distinguish impressions, do you not supply your body with the food that is suited to it, and with shelter and a dwelling? How is it then that you admit that you are foolish? I suppose because you are often disturbed and bewildered by your impressions, and overcome by their persuasive powers, so that the very things that at one moment you consider good you presently consider bad and afterwards indifferent; and, in a word, you are subject to pain, fear, envy, confusion, change: that is why you confess yourself to be foolish. And do you not change in your affections? Do you believe at one time that wealth and pleasure and mere outward things are good, and at another time that they are evil, and do you not regard the same persons now as good, now as bad, and sometimes feel friendly towards them, sometimes unfriendly, and now praise, now blame them? 'Yes. I am subject to these feelings.' Well then; do you think a man can be a friend to anything about which he is deceived? 'Not at all.'

Nor can he whose choice of a friend is subject to change bear good will to him? 'No, he cannot.' and therefore his affection can be easily upset by personal interest. Can he who first reviles a man and then admires him? 'No, he cannot.' Again, did you never see curs fawning on one another and playing with one another, so that you say nothing could be friendlier? But to see what friendship is, throw a piece of meat among them and you will learn. So with you and your dear boy: throw a bit of land between you, and you will learn how your boy wishes to give you a speedy burial, and you pray for the boy to die. Then you cry out again, 'What a child I have reared! He is impatient to bury me'. Throw a pretty maid between you and suppose you both love her, you the old man, and he the young man. Or suppose you throw a bit of glory between you. And if you have to risk your life, you will use the words of Admetus' father: You love the light; shall not your father love it?

Do you think that he did not love his own child when it was small, and was not distressed when it had the fever, and did not often say, 'Would it were I who had the fever instead!'? yet when the event came close upon him, see what words they utter! Were not Eteocles and Polynices born of the same mother and the same father? Were they not reared together, did they not live together, drink together, sleep together, often kiss one another, so that if one had seen them he would, no doubt, have laughed at the paradoxes of philosophers on friendship. Yet when the bit of meat, in the shape of a king's throne, fell between them, see what they say: E. Where wilt stand upon the tower? P. Wherefore dost thou ask me this? E. I will face thee then and slay thee. P. I desire thy blood no less. Yes, such are the prayers they utter!

Plain English · paraphraseDo you think he did not love his own child when it was small, and was not upset when it had a fever, and did not often say, "I wish it were me who had the fever instead!"? Yet when the time came for the event to happen, look at the words they spoke! Were Eteocles and Polynices not born of the same mother and the same father? Were they not raised together, lived together, drank together, slept together, often kissed each other, so that if someone had seen them, he would no doubt have laughed at the strange ideas of philosophers about friendship. Yet when the piece of meat, in the form of a king's throne, fell between them, look at what they said: E. Where will you stand on the tower? P. Why are you asking me this? E. Then I will face you and kill you. P. I want your blood no less. Yes, such are the prayers they speak!

Interest will outweigh all other motives. For be not deceived, every creature, to speak generally, is attached to nothing so much as to its own interest. Whatever then seems to hinder his way to this, be it a brother or a father or a child, the object of his passion or his own lover, he hates him, guards against him, curses him. For his nature is to love nothing so much as his own interest; this is his father and brother and kinsfolk and country and god. At any rate, when the gods seem to hinder us in regard to this we revile even the gods and overthrow their statues and set fire to their temples, as Alexander ordered the shrines of Asclepius to be burnt when the object of his passion died. Therefore if interest, religion and honour, country, parents and friends are set in the same scale, then all are safe; but if interest is in one scale, and in the other friends and country and kindred and justice itself, all these are weighed down by interest and disappear. For the creature must needs incline to that side where 'I' and 'mine' are; if they are in the flesh, the ruling power must be there; if in the will, it must be there; if in external things, it must be there.