For, did she hold this very thing, to gratify her wrath and avenge herself on her husband more profitable than to spare her children? Even so: but she was deceived. Show her clearly that she was deceived, and she will not do it; but so long as you show it not, what else hath she to follow than the thing as it appears to her? Nothing. Wherefore, then, have you indignation with her, that the unhappy wretch has gone astray concerning the greatest things, and has become a viper instead of a human being? If anything, will you not rather pity, as we pity the blind and the lame, those that are blinded and lamed in the chiefest of their faculties?
4. --"So that all these great and dreadful deeds have this same origin in the appearance of the thing?"
The same, and no other. The _Iliad_ is nought but appearance, and the use of appearances. The thing that appeared to Paris was the carrying off of the wife of Menelaus; the thing that appeared to Helen was to accompany him. Had it, then, appeared to Menelaus to be sensible that it was a gain to be deprived of such a wife, what would have happened? Not only had there been no _Iliad_, but no _Odyssey_ neither.
--"On such a little thing do such great ones hang?"
But what talk is this of great things? Wars and seditions and destructions of many men, and overthrow of cities? And what is there of great in these? Nothing. For what is there of greatness in the deaths of many oxen and sheep, and the burning or overthrow of many nests of swallows or storks?
--"But are these things like unto those?"
They are most like. The bodies of men are destroyed, and the bodies of oxen and of sheep. The dwellings of men are burned, and the nests of storks. What is there great, what is there awful in this? Or show me wherein differeth the dwelling of a man, as a dwelling, from the nest of a stork, save that the one buildeth his little houses of planks and tiles and bricks, and the other of sticks and mud?
--"Are a stork and a man, then, alike?"
What say you? In body they are most like.
--"Doth a man, then, differ in no respect from a stork?"
G.o.d forbid; but in these matters there is no difference.
--"Wherein, then, doth he differ?"
Seek, and you shall find that in another thing there is a difference.
Look if it be not in the observing and studying of what he doth; look if it be not in his social instinct, in his faith, his reverence, his steadfastness, his understanding. Where, then, is the great Good or Evil for man? There, where the difference is. If this be saved, and abide, as it were, in a fortress, and reverence be not depraved, nor faith, nor understanding, then is the man also saved. But if one of these things perish, or be taken by storm, then doth the man also perish. And in this it is that great actions are done. It was a mighty downfall, they say, for Paris, when the Greeks came, and when they sacked Troy, and when his brothers perished. Not so: for through another"s act can no man fall-that was the sacking of the storks" nests. But the downfall was then when he lost reverence and faith, when he betrayed hospitality and violated decorum. When was the fall of Achilles? When Patroclus died?
G.o.d forbid; but when he was wrathful, when he bewept the loss of his girl, when he forgot that he was there not to win mistresses but to make war. These, for men, are downfall and storming and overthrow, when right opinions are demolished or depraved.
CHAPTER XVII.
THAT THE PHILOSOPHER SHALL EXHIBIT TO THE VULGAR DEEDS, NOT WORDS.
1. Thou shalt never proclaim thyself a philosopher, nor speak much among the vulgar of the philosophic maxims; but do the things that follow from the maxims. For example, do not discourse at a feast upon how one ought to eat, but eat as one ought. For remember that even so Socrates everywhere banished ostentation, so that men used to come to him desiring that he would recommend them to teachers of philosophy, and he brought them away and did so, so well did he bear to be overlooked.
2. And if among the vulgar discourse should arise concerning some maxim of thy philosophy, do thou, for the most part, keep silence, for there is great risk that thou straightway vomit up what thou hast not digested. And when some one shall say to thee, _Thou knowest naught_, and it bites thee not, then know that thou hast begun the work.
3. And as sheep do not bring their food to the shepherds to show how much they have eaten, but digesting inwardly their provender, bear outwardly wool and milk, even so do not thou, for the most part, display the maxims before the vulgar, but rather the works which follow from them when they are digested.
CHAPTER XVIII.
ASCESIS.
When you have adapted the body to a frugal way of living, do not flatter yourself on that, nor if you drink only water, say, on every opportunity, _I drink only water_. And if you desire at any time to inure yourself to labor and endurance, do it to yourself and not unto the world. And do not embrace the statues; but some time when you are exceedingly thirsty take a mouthful of cold water, and spit it out, and say nothing about it.
CHAPTER XIX.
TOKENS.
1. The position and token of the vulgar: he looks never to himself for benefit or hurt, but always to outward things. The position and character of the philosopher: he looks for benefit or hurt only to himself.
2. The tokens of one that is making advance: he blames none, he praises none, he accuses none, he complains of none; he speaks never of himself, as being somewhat, or as knowing aught. When he is thwarted or hindered in aught, he accuseth himself. If one should praise him, he laughs at him in his sleeve; if one should blame him, he makes no defense. He goes about like the sick and feeble, fearing to move the parts that are settling together before they have taken hold. He hath taken out of himself all pursuit, and hath turned all avoidance to things in our power which are contrary to nature. Toward all things he will keep his inclination slack. If he is thought foolish or unlearned, he regardeth it not. In a word, he watches himself as he would a treacherous enemy.
CHAPTER XX.
THAT THE LOGICAL ART IS NECESSARY.
1. Since Reason is that by which all other things are organized and perfected,[1] it is meet that itself should not remain unorganized. But by what shall it be organized? For it is clear that this must be either by itself or by some other thing. But this must be Reason; or something else which is greater than Reason, which is impossible.
2. "Yea," one may say, "but it is more pressing to cure our vices, and the like."
You desire, then, to hear something of these things? Hear then; but if you shall say to me, _I know not if you are reasoning truly or falsely?_ or if I utter something ambiguous, and you shall bid me distinguish, shall I lose patience with you and tell you, _It is more pressing to cure our vices than chop logic_?
3. For this reason I think the logical are set at the beginning of our study, even as before the measuring of corn we set the examination of the measure. For unless we shall first establish what is a modius[2] and what is a balance, how shall we be able to measure or weigh anything?
4. In this case, then, if you have not understood and accurately investigated the criterion of all other things, and that through which they are understood, shall we be able to investigate and understand anything else? and how could we? _Yea, but a modius is a wooden thing, and barren._ But it measures corn. _And logic is also barren._ As regards this, indeed, we shall see. But even if one should grant this, it sufficeth that logic is that which distinguishes and investigates other things, and, as one may say, measures and weighs them. Who saith these things? is it Chrysippus alone and Zeno and Cleanthes? but doth not Antisthenes[3] say it? And who wrote that the investigation of terms is the beginning of education?-was it not Socrates? and of whom doth Xenophon write that he began with the investigation of terms, what each of them signified?
CHAPTER XXI.
GRAMMARIAN OR SAGE.
When some one may exalt himself in that he is able to understand and expound the works of Chrysippus, say then to thyself: If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this man would have had nothing whereon to exalt himself. But I, what do I desire? Is it not to learn to understand Nature and to follow her? I inquire, then, who can expound Nature to me, and hearing that Chrysippus can, I betake myself to him. But I do not understand his writings, therefore I seek an expounder for them. And so far there is nothing exalted. But when I have found the expounder, it remaineth for me to put in practice what he declares to me, and in this alone is there anything exalted. But if I shall admire the bare exposition, what else have I made of myself than a grammarian instead of a philosopher, save, indeed, that the exposition is of Chrysippus and not of Homer? When, therefore, one may ask me to lecture on the philosophy of Chrysippus, I shall rather blush when I am not able to show forth works of a like nature and in harmony with the words.
CHAPTER XXII.
ACCOMPLISHMENTS.