Gnomologium (Books 3–4)
Imperial Epictetus GreekA life entangled with fortune is like a torrent stream: turbulent, full of mud, hard to ford, tyrannical, loud, and short-lived.
A soul that keeps company with virtue is like an ever-flowing spring: clean, untroubled, sweet to drink, wholesome, sociable, abundant, harmless, and undying.
If you wish to be good, first believe that you are bad.
It is better to err seldom while owning that you act amiss, than to act amiss often while claiming you rarely fail.
Chastise the passions, so that you may not be punished by them.
Do not so much be ashamed of the disgrace that comes from reputation as flee the disgrace that comes from truth.
If you wish to be well spoken of, learn to speak well; and having learned to speak well, try to act well, and so you will reap the reward of being well spoken of.
Examine yourself, whether you wish to be rich or to be happy. If to be rich, know that this is neither a good nor wholly within your power; if to be happy, know that this is both a good and within your power. For the one is a passing loan of fortune, while happiness is the work of moral choice.
As, when you behold a viper or an asp or a scorpion in a casket of ivory or gold, you do not love it or call it blessed for the costliness of the material, but, because its nature is destructive, you turn from it and loathe it — so too, when you see vice lodged in wealth and the pomp of fortune, do not be dazzled by the brilliance of the material, but despise the baseness in the character.
Wealth is not among the goods, extravagance is among the evils, self-command is among the goods. Self-command summons us to frugality and to the acquisition of goods, but wealth summons us to extravagance and draws us away from self-command. It is hard, then, for a rich man to be temperate, or a temperate man to be rich.
As, if you had been sown or born aboard a ship, you would not be eager to become its helmsman [. . .] for there the ship will not by nature be yours, nor here will wealth, but in every case reason will be. So whatever is natural and akin to you, namely reason, deem this your own and take care of it.
Had you been born among the Persians, you would not be eager to dwell in Greece, but to fare well staying where you were. Born then into poverty, why are you eager to grow rich, instead of faring well staying where you are?
As it is better to be healthy on a small cot than to lie sick on a broad couch, so it is better to be of good cheer, drawn in within a small competence, than to be downcast amid a great one.
It is not poverty that breeds grief, but desire; nor does wealth free a man from fear, but reasoning. If, then, you acquire reasoning, you will neither desire wealth nor complain of poverty.
Neither does a horse pride itself and grow vain over its manger and trappings and rugs, nor a bird over its food and nest, but both over their swiftness — the one of foot, the other of wing. So you too should not give yourself great airs over food and shelter and, in a word, your outward abundance, but over kindness and well-doing.
To live well differs from living extravagantly. The one arises from self-command and self-sufficiency and good order and decency and frugality; the other from licentiousness and luxury and disorder and unseemliness. The end of the one is true praise, of the other blame. If, then, you wish to live well, do not seek to be praised for extravagance.
Let the first satisfying of your appetite be your measure for all food and drink; let the relish and the pleasure be the appetite itself. Then you will neither take more than you need, nor stand in want of cooks, and you will be content with whatever drink comes your way.
Make your meals not extravagant and gloomy, but bright and frugal, so that souls may not be troubled on account of the body, nor, beguiled by bodily pleasures, hold the body in contempt — bodies that take harm by indulging now and falling sick hereafter.
Take care that it is not the food in your belly that lifts you up, but the good cheer in your soul; for the former is cast off as refuse and flows away [along with the praise], while the latter, even when the soul departs, remains forever undefiled.
At feasts remember that you are entertaining two guests, body and soul; and whatever you give to the body you have at once poured away, but whatever you give to the soul you keep forever.
Do not bring anger mingled together with extravagance. Extravagance, leaping upon the body, soon takes its leave; but anger, sinking into the soul, remains for the longest time. Take care, then, lest, carried away by anger, you outrage your guests extravagantly, but rather with gentleness give them frugal cheer.
It is shameful, while sweetening one's swallow with the bees' gifts, to embitter with vice that gift of the gods, our reason.
At your meals let it be your care that those who serve you not outnumber those they serve; for it is out of place that many souls should be slaves to a few couches.
Best of all is it if, working with your own hands in the preparations and feasting at the table, you share the food at hand with those who attend you. But if such a thing is awkward to the occasion, remember that you, not weary, are served by the weary; that you eat, served by those not eating; that you drink, served by those not drinking; that you talk, served by those keeping silent; that you are at ease, served by those held in check. So you will neither, growing inflamed yourself, suffer something out of place, nor, provoking another, work him a grievous wrong.
To wrangle and contend is everywhere unbecoming, but most unseemly in the talk over wine. For neither could a drunken man teach a sober one, nor again could a drunken man be persuaded by a sober one. And where there is no end of persuasion at hand, you offer yourself up to strain in vain.
The cicadas are musical, but the snails are mute; the one delights in being made wet, the other in being warmed. Then the dew calls forth the snails, and at it they come out; but the blazing sun rouses the cicadas, and at it they sing. So, if you wish to be a musical and well-tuned man, then, when at the drinking your soul is bedewed with wine, do not let it go forth to be defiled; but when in the councils it is set ablaze by reason, then bid it utter and sing the oracles of justice.
Consider the man you talk with in one of three ways: as better, or as worse, or as your equal. If better, you must listen to him and be persuaded by him; if worse, persuade him; if equal, agree with him; and so you will never be caught in contentiousness.
It is better, yielding to truth, to overcome opinion than, yielding to opinion, to be overcome by truth.
Seeking truth, you will not seek to win by every means; and having found truth, you will have the gift of not being overcome.
Truth wins by its own resources, but opinion by what lies outside.
Freedom and slavery — the one is the name of virtue, the other of vice, and both are works of moral choice. Of things in which moral choice has no part, neither touches; but fortune is wont to be master of the body and of all things about the body that have no share in moral choice. For no one is a slave whose moral choice is free.
An evil bond of the body is fortune, of the soul, vice. For the man freed in body but bound in soul is a slave; while the man bound in body but freed in soul is free.
The bond of the body is loosed both by Nature through death and by vice through money; but the bond of the soul is loosed by virtue, through learning and experience and training.
If you wish to live untroubled and well content, try to have all who dwell with you good. And you will have them good if you educate the willing, and let the unwilling go once they have been brought into hand. For wickedness will flee away together with those who flee, and slavery with them; but goodness will remain behind with those who stay with you, and freedom too.
It is better, living with one free man, to be fearless and free, than, living with many, to be a slave.
What you flee from suffering, do not set about inflicting. You flee slavery; guard, then, against enslaving others. For in submitting to enslave others, you seem first to have been a slave yourself; since virtue has no part with vice, nor freedom with slavery.
As a healthy man would not wish to be tended by the sick, nor that those who dwell with him be sick, so neither would the free man endure to be served by slaves, or that those who share his life be slaves.
If you wish to be without slaves, free yourself first from slavery; and you will be free if you free yourself from desire. For neither Aristides nor Epaminondas nor Lycurgus, by being rich and waited on by slaves, were proclaimed — the one the Just, another the Savior, another a god; rather it was because, living in poverty, they freed Greece from slavery.
If you wish your household to be well ordered, imitate the Spartan Lycurgus. For just as he fenced his city not with walls but fortified its inhabitants with virtue, and so kept the city free forever, so you too should not throw up a great courtyard and raise lofty towers, but stay your household with goodwill and faith and friendship; and nothing harmful will enter it, not even if the whole array of vice should marshal against it.
Do not encircle your house with panels and paintings, but inscribe it with self-command. For the one is a passing bewitchment of the eyes, but the other an inborn, indelible, and everlasting adornment of a house.
Instead of a herd of cattle, try to gather herds of friends to flock about your house.
As the wolf resembles the dog, so too the flatterer and the adulterer and the parasite resemble the friend. Take care, then, lest, in place of guard dogs, you unwittingly take in ravening wolves.
To be eager that one's house, whitened with plaster, be admired belongs to a man of vulgar taste; but to make one's character bright by the kindness of fellowship belongs to a man who loves what is fine and loves his fellow men alike.
If you admire small things before great ones, you will be despised; but if you greatly despise the small, you will be admired.
Nothing is meaner than love of gain, love of pleasure, and boastfulness; nothing is greater than greatness of soul, gentleness, love of mankind, and well-doing.
No man who loves money and pleasure and reputation loves his fellow men; only the man who loves what is fine.
As you would not wish, sailing in a great and elegant and gold-laden ship, to be sunk, so neither choose, lodging in a vast and costly house, to be storm-tossed.
As a true balance is neither set right by a true balance nor judged by a false one, so too the just judge is neither set right by the just nor judged by the unjust.
As the straight has no need of the straight, so neither does the just have need of the just.
Do not sit in judgment in another's court before you yourself have been judged before Justice.
If you wish to render judgments justly, take no note of any of the litigants who plead their cause, but only of Justice herself.
You will stumble least in your judgments if you yourself go through life without stumbling.
It is better, having judged justly, to be unjustly blamed by the man condemned, than, having judged unjustly, to be justly reproached before Nature.
As the touchstone that tests gold is not in turn itself tested by the gold, so too is the man who holds the standard of judgment.
It is shameful for the judge to be judged by others.
As nothing is straighter than the straight, so nothing is juster than the just.
As the beacons on the harbors, kindling a great flame from a few faggots, render sufficient aid to the ships wandering over the sea, so too a brilliant man in a storm-tossed city, content himself with little, confers great benefits on his fellow citizens.
As, if you set about steering a ship, you would by all means learn thoroughly the helmsman's craft [. . .] for it will be open to you, just as there to steer every ship, so here too to steer every city.
If it lies before you to adorn the city with offerings, dedicate first to yourself the fairest offering of gentleness and justice and well-doing.
You will benefit the city most greatly if you raise not the roofs but the souls. For it is better that great souls dwell in small houses than that mean slaves lurk in great ones.
Do not deck the walls of your dwelling with stones from Euboea and Sparta, but rather adorn the breasts of the citizens and of those who govern with the schooling that comes from Greece. For cities are well ordered by the counsels of men, and not by stones and timbers.
As, if you wished to rear lions, you would not concern yourself with the costliness of their cages but with the conduct of the beasts, so, if you undertake to lead the citizens, do not trouble yourself so much over the costliness of buildings as take care for the courage of those who dwell in them.
As a good colt-breaker does not feed the good colts but let the unruly ones starve, but feeds both alike and chastises the one the more, forcing it to come level with the other, so too a caring man, skilled in the art of statesmanship, undertakes to make some of the citizens fair-minded; the rest, on the other hand, he does not let go utterly to ruin, but grudges neither of them their nurture, and educates and spurs on more sharply the one who sets himself against reason and law.
As neither is a goose dismayed by a cackle nor a sheep by a bleat, so let not the voice of a senseless crowd dismay you.
As a crowd asking you indiscriminately for something of your own does not abash you, so neither let a mob, unjustly putting you to shame, throw you into confusion.
Whatever falls to your lot to contribute to the city, contribute it before you are asked; and you will never be asked for what does not fall to you.
As the sun does not wait for prayers and enchantments in order to rise, but straightway shines and is greeted by all, so neither should you wait for applause and noise and praises in order to do good, but do good willingly, and you will be loved on equal terms with the sun.