5. Then you fear hunger, as you suppose. But it is not hunger that you fear—you fear you will have no cook, nor nobody else to buy victuals for you, nor another to take off your boots, nor another to put them on, nor others to rub you down, nor others to follow you about, so that when you have stripped yourself in the bath, and stretched yourself out as if you were crucified, you may be rubbed to and fro, and then the rubber standing by may say, Turn him round, give me his side, take hold of his head, let me have his shoulder; and then when you leave the bath and go home you may shout, Is no one bringing anything to eat? and then, Take away the plates, and wipe them. This is what you fear,—lest you be not able to live like a sick man. But learn how those live that are in health—slaves, and laborers, and true philosophers; how Socrates lived, who moreover had a wife and children; how Diogenes lived; how Cleanthes that studied in the schools and drew his own water.[2] If you would have these things, they are everywhere to be had, and you will live boldly. Bold in what? In that wherein alone it is possible to be bold—in that which is faithful, which cannot be hindered, which cannot be taken away. But why hast thou made thyself so worthless and useless that no one is willing to receive thee into his house or take care of thee? But if any utensil were thrown away, and it was sound and serviceable, every one that found it would pick it up and think it a gain; but thee no man would pick up, nor count anything but damage. So thou canst not so much as serve the purpose of a watch-dog, or a cock? Why, then, wilt thou still live, being such a man as thou art?
6. Doth any good man fear lest the means of gaining food fail him? They fail not the blind, nor the lame; shall they fail a good man? To the good soldier there fails not one who gives him pay, nor to the laborer, nor to the shoemaker; and shall such a one fail to the good man? Is God, then, careless of His instruments, His servants, His witnesses, whom alone He useth to show forth to the untaught what He is, and that He governs all things well, and is not careless of human things? and that to a good man there is no evil, neither in life nor in death? How, then, when He leaves them without food? How else is this than as when a good general gives me the signal for retreat? I obey, I follow, praising my leader and hymning his works. For I came when it pleased him, and when it pleases him I will go. In my lifetime also my work was to sing the praise of God, both alone to myself, and to single persons, and in presence of many. He doth not provide me with many things, nor with great abundance of goods; He will not have me live delicately. For neither did He provide so for Hercules, His own son, but another man reigned over Argos and Mycenæ, while he obeyed and labored and was disciplined. And Eurystheus was what he was—no king of Argos and Mycenæ, who was not king even of himself; and Hercules was lord and leader of all the earth and sea, for he purged them of lawlessness and wrong, and brought in righteousness and holiness; naked and alone did he this. And when Odysseus was shipwrecked and cast away, did his need humble him one whit or break his spirit? But how did he go out to the maidens, to beg for the necessaries of life, which it is held most shameful to seek from another?
“Even as a lion from his mountain home, So went Odysseus trusting in his valor.” —Odyssey, vi. 130.
Trusting in what? Not in fame, nor wealth, but in his own valor—that is, his opinions of the things that are and are not in our power.[3] For these alone it is that make men free and unhindered; that lift up the heads of the abject, and bid them look rich men and tyrants steadily in the face. And this was the gift of the philosopher; but thou wilt never go forth boldly, but trembling for thy fine raiment and silver dishes. Miserable man! hast thou indeed thus wasted all thy time till now?
CHAPTER IX.
the open door.
1. For my part I think the old man should be sitting here, not to devise how ye may have no mean thoughts, nor speak no mean nor ignoble things about yourselves, but to watch that there arise not among us youths of such a mind, that when they have perceived their kinship with the Gods, and how the flesh and its possessions are laid upon us like bonds, and how many necessities for the management of life are by them brought upon us, they may desire to fling these things away for abhorred and intolerable burthens, and depart unto their kin. And this is what your master and teacher—if, in sooth, ye had any such—should have to contend with in you,—that ye should come to him and say, Epictetus, we can endure no longer being bound to this body, giving it food and drink, and resting it and cleansing it, and going about to court one man after another for its sake. Are not such things indifferent and nothing to us? And is not Death no evil? Are we not in some way kinsmen of God, and did we not come from Him? Let us depart to whence we came; let us be delivered at last from these bonds wherewith we are bound and burthened! Here are robbers, and thieves, and law courts, and those that are called tyrants, which through the body and its possessions seem as if they had some power over us. Let us show them that they have no power over any man! And to this it should be my part to say, “My friends, wait upon God. When He Himself shall give the signal and release you from this service, then are ye released unto Him. But for the present, bear to dwell in this place, wherein He has set you. Short, indeed, is this time of your sojourn, and easy to bear for those that are so minded. For what tyrant or what thief is there any longer, or what court of law is terrible to one who thus makes nothing of the body and the possessions of it? Remain, then, and depart not without a reason.” Some such part as this should the teacher have to play towards the well-natured among his disciples.
2. How long, then, are such injunctions to be obeyed? So long as it is profitable—that is to say, so long as I can do what becomes and befits me. Then some men are choleric and fastidious, and say, “I cannot sup with this man, to have to hear him every day telling how he fought in Mysia.” I told you, brother, how I went up the hill—then again I began to be besieged.... But another saith, “I prefer to have my supper, and listen to him prating as long as he likes.” And do thou compare the gain on both sides—only do naught in heaviness or affliction, or as supposing that thou art in evil case. For to this no man can compel thee. Doth it smoke in the chamber? if it is not very much I will stay, if too much, I will go out; for remember this always, and hold fast to it, that the door is open. Thou shalt not live in Nicopolis. I will not. Nor in Athens. I will not live in Athens. Nor in Rome. Neither in Rome. Live in Gyara.[1] I will live in Gyara. But living in Gyara seemeth to me like a great smoke. I will depart, whither no man shall hinder me to dwell—for that dwelling stands ever open to all.
3. Only do it not unreasonably, nor cowardly, nor make every common chance an excuse. For again, it is not God’s will, for He hath need of such an order of things, and of such a race upon the earth. But if He give the signal for retreat, as He did to Socrates, we must obey Him as our commander.