4. Mark, therefore, that greater seer, the Pythian, who cast out of his temple one that, when his friend was being murdered, did not help him.[2]
END OF BOOK IV
_BOOK V._
CHAPTER I.
THE BEHAVIOUR OF A PHILOSOPHER.
1. Ordain for thyself forthwith a certain form and type of conduct, which thou shalt maintain both alone and, when it may chance, among men.
2. And for the most part keep silence, or speak only what is necessary, and in few words. But when occasion may call thee to speak, then speak, but sparingly, and not about any subject at hap-hazard, nor about gladiators, nor horse races, nor athletes, nor things to eat and drink, which are talked of everywhere; but, above all, not about men, as blaming or praising or comparing them.
If, then, thou art able, let thy discourse draw that of the company towards what is seemly and good. But if thou find thyself apart among men of another sort, keep silence.
3. Laugh not much, nor at many things, nor unrestrainedly.
4. Refuse altogether, if thou canst, to take an oath; if thou canst not, then as the circ.u.mstances allow.[1]
5. Shun banquets given by strangers and by the vulgar. But if any occasion bring thee to them, give strictest heed, lest thou fall unawares into the ways of the vulgar. For know that if thy companion be corrupt, he who hath conversation with him must needs be corrupted also, even if himself should chance to be pure.
6. Hath any of you the art of a lute-player when he takes the lute in his hand, so as at once when he hath touched the strings to know which are out of tune, and then to tune the instrument?-such a gift as Socrates had, who in every company could lead those that were with him to his own topic? Whence should you have it? but ye must needs be carried about hither and thither by the vulgar. And wherefore, then, are they stronger than ye? For that they speak their sorry stuff from belief; but ye, your fine talk from the lips out. Wherefore it is flat and dead; and sickening it is to hear your exhortations and this wretched virtue of yours, which is prated of in every quarter. And thus the vulgar conquer you. For everywhere belief is mighty, belief is invincible. Until then the right opinions are hardened in you; and until ye shall have gained a certain strength for your safety, I counsel you to mingle cautiously with the vulgar, else every day, like wax in the sun, shall whatever hath been written in you in the school be melted away.
7. In things that concern the body accept only so far as the bare need-as in food, drink, clothing, habitation, servants. But all that makes for glory or luxury thou must utterly proscribe.
8. Concerning intercourse of the s.e.xes, it is right to be pure before marriage, to the best of thy power. But, using it, let a man have to do only with what is lawful. Yet be not grievous to those who use such pleasures, nor censorious; nor be often putting thyself forward as not using them.
9. If one shall bear thee word that such a one hath spoken evil of thee, then do not defend thyself against his accusations, but make answer: _He little knew my other vices, or he had not mentioned only these_.
10. There is no necessity to go often to the arena, but if occasion should take thee there, do not appear ardent on any man"s side but thine own; that is to say, choose that only to happen which does happen, and that the conqueror may be simply he who wins; for so shalt thou not be thwarted. But from shouting and laughing at this or that, or violent gesticulation, thou must utterly abstain. And when thou art gone away, converse little on the things that have pa.s.sed, so far as they make not for thine own correction. For from that it would appear that admiration of the spectacle had overcome thee.
11. Go not freely nor indiscriminately to recitations.[2] But if thou go, then preserve (yet without being grievous to others) thy gravity and calmness.
12. When thou art about to meet any one, especially one of those that are thought high in rank, set before thy mind what Socrates or Zeno had done in such a case. And so thou wilt not fail to deal as it behooves thee with the occasion.
13. When thou goest to any of those that are great in power, set before thy mind the case that thou wilt not find him at home, that thou wilt be shut out, that the doors may be slammed in thy face, that he will take no notice of thee. And if even with these things it behooves thee to go, then go, and bear all that happens; and never say to thyself-_It was not worth this_. For that is the part of the foolish, and of those that are offended at outward things.
14. In company, be it far from thee to dwell much and over-measure on thine own deeds and dangers. For to dwell on thine own dangers is pleasant indeed to thee, but not equally pleasant for others is it to hear of the things that have chanced to thee.
15. Be it far from thee to move laughter. For that habit is a slippery descent into vulgarity;[3] and it is always enough to relax thy neighbors" respect for thee.
16. And it is dangerous to approach to vicious conversation. Therefore, when anything of the kind may arise, rebuke, if there is opportunity, him who approaches thereto. But if not, then at least by silence and blushing and grave looks, let it be plain that his talk is disagreeable to thee.
CHAPTER II
ON HABIT.
1. Every skill and faculty is maintained and increased by the corresponding acts; as, the faculty of walking by walking, of running by running. If you will read aloud well, then do it constantly; if you will write, then write. But when you have not read aloud for thirty days together, but done something else, you shall see the result. Thus, if you have lain down for ten days, then rise up and endeavor to walk a good distance, and you shall see how your legs are enfeebled. In general, then, if you would make yourself skilled in anything, then do it; and if you would refrain from anything, then do it not, but use yourself to do rather some other thing instead of it.
2. And thus it is in spiritual things also. When thou art wrathful, know that not this single evil hath happened to thee, but that thou hast increased the aptness to it, and, as it were, poured oil upon the fire.
When thou art overcome in pa.s.sion, think not that this defeat is all; but thou hast nourished thine incontinence, and increased it. For it is impossible but that apt.i.tudes and faculties should spring up where they were not before, or spread and grow mightier, by the corresponding acts.
And thus, surely, do also, as the philosopher says, the infirmities of the soul grow up. For when thou hast once been covetous of money, if Reason, which leadeth to a sense of the vice, be called to aid, then both the desire is set at rest, and our ruling faculty is re-established, as it was in the beginning. But if thou bring no remedy to aid, then shall the soul return no more to the first estate; but when next excited by the corresponding appearance, shall be kindled to desire even more quickly than before. And when this is continually happening, the soul becomes callous in the end, and through its infirmity the love of money is strengthened. For he that hath had a fever, when the illness hath left him, is not what he was before his fever, unless he have been entirely healed. And somewhat on this wise also it happens in the affection of the soul: certain traces and scars are left in it, the which if a man do not wholly eradicate, when he hath been again scoured on the same place, it shall make no longer scars, but sores.
3. Wouldst thou, then, be no longer of a wrathful temper? Then do not nourish the aptness to it, give it nothing that will increase it, be tranquil from the outset, and number the days when thou hast not been wrathful. _I have not been wrathful now for one, nor for two, nor for three days_; but if thou have saved thirty days, then sacrifice to G.o.d.
For the aptness is at first enfeebled, and then destroyed. _To-day I was not vexed, nor to-morrow, nor for two or three months together; but I was heedful when anything happened to move me thus._ Know that thou art in good case. To-day, when I saw a fair woman, I did not say to myself, _Would that one could possess her_; nor, _Happy is her husband_, for he who saith this saith also, _Happy is her paramour_; nor do I picture to my mind what should follow. But I stroke my head, and say, _Well done, Epictetus! you have solved a fine sophism, finer by far than the master sophism_. But if she were also willing and consenting, and sent to me, and if she also laid hold of me, and drew near to me, and I should yet restrain myself and conquer, this were indeed then a sophism above the Liar, above the Quiescent. Verily, for this a man"s spirit may rightly swell, and not for propounding the master sophism.[1]
4. How, then, may this come to pa.s.s? Resolve at last to seek thine own commendation, to appear fair in the eyes of G.o.d; desire to become pure with thine own pure self, and with G.o.d. Then when thou shalt fall in with any appearance such as we have spoken of, what saith Plato? _Go to the purifying sacrifices, go and pray in the temples of the protecting G.o.ds_.[2] It shall even suffice if thou seek the company of good and wise men, and try thyself by one of them, whether he be one of the living or of the dead.
5. By opposing these remedies thou shalt conquer the appearance, nor be led captive by it. But at the outset, be not swept away by the vehemence of it; but say, _Await me a little, thou appearance; let me see what thou art, and with what thou hast to do; let me approve thee_. And then permit it not to lead thee forward, and to picture to thee what should follow, else it shall take possession of thee, and carry thee whithersoever it will. But rather bring in against it some other fair and n.o.ble appearance, and therewithal cast out this vile one. And if thou use to exercise thyself in this way, thou shalt see what shoulders and nerves and sinews thou wilt have! But now we have only wordiness, and nothing more.
6. This is the true athlete,[3] he who exerciseth himself against such appearances. Hold, unhappy man! be not swept away. Great is the contest, divine the task, for kingship, for freedom, for prosperity, for tranquillity. Be mindful of G.o.d, call Him to be thy helper and defender, as men at sea call upon the Dioscuri in a storm.[4] For what greater tempest is there than that which proceedeth from appearances, that mightily overcome and expel the Reason? Yea, a storm itself, what is it but an appearance? For, take away only the dread of death, and bring as many thunderings and lightnings as thou wilt, and thou shalt see what fair weather and calm there will be in the ruling faculty. But if having been once defeated, thou shalt say, _The next time I will conquer_; and then the same thing over again, be sure that in the end thou wilt be brought to such a sorry and feeble state that henceforth thou wilt not so much as know that thou art sinning; but thou wilt begin to make excuses for the thing, and then confirm that saying of Hesiod to be true:-
"With ills unending strives the putter off."
-_Works and Days_, 411.
7. What then? can a man make this resolve, and so stand up faultless? He cannot; but this much he can-to be ever straining towards faultlessness. For happy it were if, by never relaxing this industrious heed, we shall rid ourselves of at least a few of our faults. But now, when thou sayest, _From to-morrow I shall be heedful_, know that this is what thou art saying:-_To-day I shall be shameless, importunate, abject; it shall be in others" power to afflict me; to-day I shall be wrathful, envious_. Lo, to how many vices dost thou give place! But if aught be well to-morrow, how much better to-day? if to-morrow suit, how much better to-day? Yea, and for this, too, that thou mayest have the power to-morrow, and not again put it off till the third day.
CHAPTER III.
ON DISPUTATION.
1. What things a man must have learned in order to be able to reason well have been accurately defined by our philosophers; but in the fitting use of them we are wholly unexercised. Give any one of us whom ye please some ignorant man for a disputant, and he shall find no way to deal with him; but if, when he hath moved him a little, the man answer beside the purpose, he is no longer able to manage him, but either he will revile him, or mock him, and say, _He is an ignorant fellow; nothing can be done with him_.
2. But a guide, when he hath found one straying from the way, leads him into the proper road, and does not mock him or revile him, and then go away. And do thou show such a man the truth, and thou shalt see that he will follow it. But so long as thou dost not show it, mock him not, but be sensible rather of thine own incapacity.
3. But what? this business of instruction is not very safe at present, and least of all in Rome; for he who pursues it will of course feel constrained not to do it in a corner, but he must go to some man of consular rank, it may be, or some rich man, and inquire of him: Sir, can you tell me to whom you have committed the care of your horses?
_Surely._ Was it, then, to any chance-comer and one inexperienced about horses? _By no means._ Well, then, to whom are your gold and silver vessels and raiment entrusted? _Neither are these committed to any chance person._ And your body, have you already sought out one to whom to commit the care of it? _How not?_ And that also one who is experienced in training and medicine? _a.s.suredly._ Whether, now, are these the best things you have, or do you possess aught that is better than all of them? _What thing do you mean?_ That, by Zeus, which useth all these, and approveth each of them and taketh counsel? _Is it the soul, then, that you mean?_ You have conceived me rightly; it is even this. _Truly I hold that I possess in this something much better than everything else._ Can you then declare to us in what manner you have taken thought for your soul? for it is not likely that a wise man like yourself, and one of repute in the State, would overlook the best think you possess, and use no diligence or design about it, but leave it neglected and perishing? _Surely not._ But do you provide for it yourself? and have you learned the way from another, or discovered it yourself?
4. And then at last there is danger lest he say first, _Good sir, what is this to you? who are you?_ and then, if you persist in troubling him, that he may lift up his hands and smite you. Once I too was an admirer of this method until I fell into these difficulties.