and this I do, nor, as long as it is granted me, will I ever abandon this post. And you, too, I summon to join me in the same song.
CHAPTER IV.
GOD IN MAN.
1. God is beneficial. But the Good is also beneficial. It is likely, then, that where the essence of God is, there also should be the essence of the Good. And what is the essence of God? Flesh? God forbid. A property in land? God forbid. Fame? God forbid. Mind, Intelligence, Right Reason? Even so. Here, then, once for all, seek the essence of the Good. For surely you will in no wise seek it in a plant? _Nay._ Or in any unreasoning creature? _Nay._ If, then, it is sought in a reasoning creature, wherefore continue to seek it anywhere else than in the difference between reasoning and unreasoning creatures?
2. The plants have not so much as the use of appearances, therefore we speak not of the Good in their regard. The Good, then, needs the power of using appearances. And this alone? Nay; for if so, say then that Good and Happiness and Unhappiness are with the lower animals too. But this you will not say, and you are right; for though they possessed the use of appearances in the highest degree, yet the observing and considering of this use they do not possess, and naturally so, for they exist to serve others, nor have any supreme object in themselves.[1] For the ass was not made for any supreme object in himself? Nay, but he was made able to bear, because we had need of a back; and, by Zeus, we had need moreover that he should walk; wherefore he received also the power to use appearances, else had he not been able to walk. And thereupon the matter stopped. For had he also received the observing and considering of the use of appearances, it is clear that in reason he could no longer have been subject to us, nor have served those needs of ours, but he had been our equal and our like.
3. For use is one thing, and observation and study is another. God had need of the other animals to use appearances, but of us to observe and study appearances. Wherefore it is enough for them to eat and drink, and rest and breed, and do whatever else each of them performs, but to us, to whom the faculty of observing and studying hath also been given, these things are not enough; but unless we act after a certain manner and ordinance, and conformably to the nature and constitution of man, we shall never attain the end of our being. For where the constitution is different, different there also is the task and the end. When, therefore, the constitution is one for use alone, then the use, of whatever kind it be, is enough; but where there is also observing and studying of the use, then, unless the due employment of this faculty be added, the end shall never be gained. What then? God hath constituted every other animal, one to be eaten, another to serve for tilling the land, another to yield cheese, another to some kindred use; for which things what need is there of the observing and studying of appearances, and the ability to make distinctions in them? But man he hath brought in to be a spectator of God and of His works, and not a spectator alone, but an interpreter of them. Wherefore it is shameful for a man to begin and to end where creatures do that are without Reason; but rather should he begin when they begin, and end where Nature ends in ourselves. But she ends in contemplation, in observing and studying, in a manner of life that is in harmony with Nature. See to it, then, that ye die not without having been spectators of these things.
4. Seek, then, the essence of the Good there, where if it be not, thou wilt not say that the Good is in any other thing.
5. But what? are not those creatures also works of God? Surely; yet not supreme objects, yet not parts of the Gods. But thou art a supreme object, thou art a piece of God, thou hast in thee something that is a portion of Him. Why, then, art thou ignorant of thy high ancestry? Why knowest thou not whence thou camest? Wilt thou not remember, in thine eating, who it is that eats, and whom thou dost nourish? in cohabiting, who it is that cohabits? in converse, in exercise, in argument, knowest thou not that thou art nourishing a God, exercising a God? Unhappy man!
thou bearest about with thee a God, and knowest it not! Thinkest thou I speak of some God of gold and silver, and external to thee? Nay, but in thyself thou dost bear Him, and seest not that thou defilest Him with thine impure thoughts and filthy deeds. In the presence even of an image of God thou hadst not dared to do one of those things which thou dost.
But in the presence of God Himself within thee, who seeth and heareth all things, thou art not ashamed of the things thou dost both desire and do, O thou unwitting of thine own nature, and subject to the wrath of God?
6. Why, then, do we fear in sending forth a young man from the school into some of the business of life, lest he should do wrong in anything, and be luxurious or profligate, and lest a wrapping of rags degrade him, or fine raiment uplift him? Such a one knoweth not his own God, nor with whom he is setting out. But can we have patience with him, saying, _Would that I had you with me!_[2] And hast thou not God with thee there? or having Him, dost thou seek for any other? or will He speak other things to thee than even these?
7. But wert thou a statue of Pheidias, an Athena or Zeus, then wert thou mindful both of thyself and of the artist; and if thou hadst any consciousness, thou wouldst strive to do nothing unworthy of thy maker nor of thyself, nor ever to appear in any unseemly guise. But now that Zeus hath made thee, thou carest therefore nothing what kind of creature thou showest thyself for? And yet, is the one Artist like the other artist, or the one work like the other work? And what kind of work is that which hath in itself the faculties that were manifest in the making of it? Do not artists work in stone or brass or gold or ivory? and the Athena of Pheidias, when she hath once stretched out her hand and received upon it the figure of Victory, standeth thus for all time? But the works of God have motion and breathing, and the use of appearances and the judgment of them. Wilt thou dishonor such a Maker, whose work thou art? Nay, for not only did He make thee, but to thee alone did He trust and commit thyself. Wilt thou not remember this too, or wilt thou dishonor thy charge? But if God had committed some orphan child to thee, wouldst thou have neglected it? Now He hath given thee to thyself, and saith, _I had none more worthy of trust than thee; keep this man such as he was made by nature--reverent, faithful, high, unterrified, unshaken of passions, untroubled_. And thou wilt not.
8. But they may say: _Whence doth this fellow bring us that eye of scorn and solemn looks?_ I have it not yet as I should, For I am yet unbold in those things which I have learned and assented to; I yet fear my weakness. But let me be bold in them, and then ye shall see such a look, such a guise, as behooveth me to wear. Then shall I show you the statue when it is perfected and polished. What look ye for?--an eye of scorn?
God forbid! For doth the Zeus in Olympia look scornfully?--nay, but his glance is steadfast, as becometh him who will say, "None trusts in vain my irrevocable word."--_Il._ i. 526.
Such will I show myself to you--faithful, reverent, generous, untroubled. _Not also, then, deathless, ageless, deceaseless?_ Nay, but dying as God, sickening as a God. These I have, these I can; but other things I neither have nor can. I will show you the thews of a philosopher. And what are these? A pursuit that never fails, an avoidance that never miscarries, seemly desire, studious resolve, cautious assent.[3] These shall ye see.
CHAPTER V.
OF DIVINATION.
1. When thou goest to inquire of an oracle, remember that what the event will be thou knowest not, for this is the thing thou art come to learn from the seer; but of what nature it is (if haply thou art a philosopher), thou knewest already in coming. For if it be any of those things that are not in our own power, it follows of necessity that it can be neither good nor evil.
2. Bring, therefore, to the seer neither pursuit nor avoidance, nor go before him with trembling, but well knowing that all events are indifferent and nothing to thee. For whatever it may be, it shall lie with thee to use it nobly; and this no man can prevent. Go, then, with a good courage to the Gods as to counselors; and for the rest, when anything hath been counseled thee, remember of whom thou hast taken counsel, and whom thou wilt be slighting if thou art not obedient.
3. Therefore, as Socrates would have it, go to the oracle for those matters only where thy whole inquiry bendeth solely towards the event, and where there are no means either from reason or any other art for knowing beforehand what is to happen. Thus, when it may be needful to share some peril with thy friend or thy country, inquire of no oracle whether thou shouldst do the thing. For if the seer should declare that the sacrifices are inauspicious, this signifies clearly either death, or the loss of some limb, or banishment; yet doth Reason decree that even so thou must stand by thy friend, and share thy country's danger.
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 circumstances 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 sexes, 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 passed, 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 passion, think not that this defeat is all; but thou hast nourished thine incontinence, and increased it. For it is impossible but that aptitudes 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 God.
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 pass? Resolve at last to seek thine own commendation, to appear fair in the eyes of God; desire to become pure with thine own pure self, and with God. 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 Gods_.[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 noble 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 God, 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."
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? _Assuredly._ 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.
CHAPTER IV.
THAT WE SHOULD BE SLOW IN ACCEPTING PLEASURE.
1. When thou hast received the appearance of some pleasure, then, as in other things, guard thyself lest thou be carried away by it, but delay with thyself a little, and let the thing await thee for a while. Then bethink thyself of the two periods of time, one when thou shalt be enjoying the pleasure, the other, when, having enjoyed it, thou shalt afterwards repent of it and reproach thyself. And set on the other side how thou shalt rejoice and commend thyself if thou abstain.
2. But if it seem reasonable to thee to do the thing, beware lest thou have been conquered by the flattery and the sweetness and the allurement of it. But set on the other side how much better were the consciousness of having won that victory.
CHAPTER V.
THAT WE SHOULD BE OPEN IN OUR DEALINGS.
In doing aught which thou hast clearly discerned as right to do, seek never to avoid being seen in the doing of it, even though the multitude should be destined to form some wrong opinion concerning it. For if thou dost not right, avoid the deed itself. But if rightly, why fear those who will wrongly rebuke thee?
CHAPTER VI.
THAT HALF TRUE MAY BE ALL FALSE.
As the sayings, _It is day_, _It is night_, are wholly justifiable if viewed disjunctively, but not if viewed together, even so at a feast, to pick out the largest portion for one's self may be justifiable, if we look to the needs of the body alone, but is unjustifiable if viewed as it concerns the preservation of the proper community in the feast.
Therefore, in eating with another person, remember not to look only at the value for the body of the things that are set before thee, but to preserve also the reverence due to the giver of the feast.
CHAPTER VII.
THAT EACH MAN PLAY HIS OWN PART.
1. If thou hast assumed a part beyond thy power to play, then thou hast both come to shame in that, and missed one thou couldst have well performed.
2. And some one having inquired, _How then, shall each of us perceive what character he befits?_ Whence, said Epictetus, doth the bull alone, when the lion approacheth, discover his own capacity, and advance to defend the whole herd? It is clear that with the capacity is ever joined the perception of the same, and thus, whoever of us may possess a like capacity will not be ignorant of it. But a bull is not made in a moment, nor is a man of generous spirit; but we must have preparation and winter-training,[1] and not lightly rush upon things that do not concern us.
CHAPTER VIII.
THAT WE SHOULD BE CAREFUL OF THE SOUL AS OF THE BODY.
In going about, you are careful not to step upon a nail or to twist your foot. Care thus also lest you injure your ruling faculty. And if we observe this in each thing we do, we shall the more safely undertake it.
CHAPTER IX.
THE MEASURE OF GAIN.
The measure of gain for each man is the body, as the foot is for the shoe. Take your stand on this, and you shall preserve the measure. But if you transgress it, you must thenceforth be borne, as it were, down a steep. And so it is with the shoe, for if you will go beyond the measure of the foot, the shoe will be first gilded, then dyed purple, then embroidered. For that which hath once transgressed its measure hath no longer any limit.
CHAPTER X.
THE WORTH OF WOMEN.
From the age of fourteen years women are flattered and worshiped by men. Seeing thus that there is nothing else for them but to serve the pleasure of men, they begin to beautify themselves, and to place all their hopes in this. It were well, then, that they should perceive themselves to be prized for nothing else than modesty and decorum.
CHAPTER XI.
A DULL NATURE.
It betokens a dull nature to be greatly occupied in matters that concern the body, as to be much concerned about exercising one's self, or eating, or drinking, or other bodily acts. But these things should be done by the way, and all attention be given to the mind.
CHAPTER XII.
OF ADORNMENT OF THE PERSON.
1. A certain young man, a rhetorician, having come to Epictetus with his hair dressed in an unusually elaborate way, and his other attire much adorned, Tell me, said Epictetus, think you not that some dogs are beautiful, and some horses, and so of the other animals?
----"I do think it," said he.
And men too--are not some beautiful and some ill-favored?
----"How otherwise?"
Whether, then, do we call each of these beautiful for the same reasons and in the same kind, or each for something proper to itself? And you shall see the matter thus: Inasmuch as we observe a dog to be formed by nature for one end, and a horse for another, and, let us say, a nightingale for another, we may in general say, not unreasonably, that each of them is then beautiful when it is excellent according to its own nature; but since the nature of each is different, different also, it seems to me, is the manner of being beautiful in each. Is it not so?
He acknowledged that it was.
Therefore, that which maketh a dog beautiful maketh a horse ill-favored; and that which maketh a horse beautiful, a dog ill-favored; if, indeed, their natures are different?
----"So it seems."
And that which maketh a beautiful Pancratiast,[1] the same maketh a wrestler not good, and a runner utterly laughable? And he who is beautiful for the Pentathlon is very bad for wrestling?
----"It is so," he said.
What is it, then, that makes a man beautiful? Is it not that which, in its kind, makes also a dog or a horse beautiful?
----"It is that," he answered.
What, then, makes a dog beautiful? The presence of the virtue of a dog.
And a horse? The presence of the virtue of a horse. And what, then, a man? Is it not also the presence of the virtue of a man? And, O youth, if thou wouldst be beautiful, do thou labor to perfect this, the virtue of a human being. But what is it? Look whom you praise when you praise any without affection--is it the righteous or the unrighteous?
----"The righteous."
Is it the temperate or the profligate?
----"The temperate."
Is it the continent or the incontinent?
----"The continent."
Then making yourself such a one as you praise, you will know that you are making yourself beautiful; but so long as you neglect these things, though you sought out every device to appear beautiful, you must of necessity be ugly.
2. For thou art not flesh and hair, but a Will: if thou keep this beautiful, then wilt thou be beautiful. But so far I dare not tell thee that thou art ugly, for I think thou wilt more easily bear to hear anything else than this. But see what Socrates saith to Alcibiades, the most beautiful and blooming of men: _Endeavor, then, to be beautiful_; and what saith he? _Curl thy locks, and pluck out the hairs of thy legs?_ God forbid. But _Set thy Will in order, cast out evil doctrines_.
----"And how then shall we deal with the body?"
As nature made it. Another hath cared for this; commit it to Him.
----"But what? Shall the body then be uncleansed?"
God forbid. But that which thou art and wast made by Nature, cleanse this; let a man be clean as a man, a woman as a woman, a child as a child.
3. For we ought not even by the aspect of the body to scare away the multitude from philosophy; but by his body, as in all other things, a philosopher should show himself cheerful, and free from troubles.
_Behold, friends, how I have nothing and need nothing; behold how I am homeless and landless, and an exile_, if so it chance, _and hearthless, and yet I live more free from troubles than all the lordly and the rich.
But look on my body, too; ye see that it is not the worse for my hard life._ But if one saith this to me, having the countenance and garb of a condemned criminal, what God shall persuade me to approach to philosophy which makes such men as this? God forbid! I would not, were it even to become a sage.
4. I, indeed, by the Gods, had rather a young man in his first movement towards philosophy came to me with his hair curled than disheveled and foul. For a certain impression of the beautiful is to be seen in him, and an aim at what is becoming; and to the thing wherein it seemeth to him to lie, there he applies his art. Thenceforth it only needs to show him its true place, and to say, _Young man, thou seekest the beautiful, and thou dost well. Know, then, that it flourishes there where thy Reason is; there seek it where are thy likes and dislikes, thy pursuits and avoidances, for this is what thou hast in thyself of choice and precious, but the body is by nature mud. Why dost thou spend thy labor upon it in vain? for that the body is naught, Time shall certainly teach thee, though it teach thee nothing else._ But if one come to me foul and filthy, and a mustache down to the knees, what have I to say to him?
with what image or likeness can I draw him on? For with what that is like unto Beauty hath he ever busied himself, so as I may set him on another course, and say, _Not here is Beauty, but there_? Will you have me tell him, _Beauty consists not in being befouled, but in the Reason_?
For doth he even seek Beauty? hath he any impression of it in his mind?
Go, and reason with a hog, that he shall not roll himself in the mud.
5. Behold a youth worthy of love--behold an old man worthy to love, and to be loved in return; to whom one may commit his sons, his daughters, to be taught; to whom young men may come, if it please you--that he may deliver lectures to them on a dunghill! God forbid. Every extravagance arises from something in human nature, but this is near to being one that is not human.
CHAPTER XIII.
WHY WE SHOULD BEAR WITH WRONG.
When some one may do you an injury, or speak ill of you, remember that he either does it or speaks it believing that it is right and meet for him to do so. It is not possible, then, that he can follow the thing that appears to you, but the thing that appears to him. Wherefore, if it appear evil to him, it is he that is injured, being deceived. For also if any one should take a true consequence to be false, it is not the consequence that is injured, but he which is deceived. Setting out, then, from these opinions, you will bear a gentle mind towards any man who may revile you. For, say on each occasion, _So it appeared to him_.
CHAPTER XIV.
THAT EVERYTHING HATH TWO HANDLES.
Every matter hath two handles--by the one it may be carried; by the other, not. If thy brother do thee wrong, take not this thing by the handle, _He wrongs me_; for that is the handle whereby it may not be carried. But take it rather by the handle, _He is my brother, nourished with me_; and thou wilt take it by a handle whereby it may be carried.
CHAPTER XV.
ON CERTAIN FALSE CONCLUSIONS.
There is no true conclusion in these reasonings: _I am richer than thou, therefore I am better_: _I am more eloquent than thou, therefore I am better_. But the conclusions are rather these: _I am richer than thou, therefore my wealth is better_: _I am more eloquent than thou, therefore my speech is better_. But thou art not wealth, and thou art not speech.
CHAPTER XVI.
PERCEPTION AND JUDGMENT.
1. Doth a man bathe himself quickly? Then, say not, _Wrongly_, but