1. The will of Nature is to be learned from matters which do not concern ourselves.[1] Thus, when a boy may break the cup of another man, we are ready to say, It is a common chance. Know, then, that when thine own is broken, it behooves thee to be as though it were another man’s. And apply this even to greater things. Has another man’s child died, or his wife? who is there that will not say, It is the lot of humanity. But when his own may die, then straightway it is, Alas, wretched that I am! But we should bethink ourselves what we felt on hearing of others in the same plight.
2. As a mark is not set up to be missed, even so the nature of evil exists not in the universe.
CHAPTER XXVI.
the mind’s security.
If any one should set your body at the mercy of every passer-by, you would be indignant. When, therefore, you set your own mind at the mercy of every chance, to be troubled and perturbed when any one may revile you, have you no shame of this?
CHAPTER XXVII.
that a man should be one man.
1. In every work you will take in hand mark well what must go before and what must follow, and so proceed. For else you shall at first set out eagerly, as not regarding what is to follow; but in the end, if any difficulties have arisen, you will leave it off with shame.
2. So you wish to conquer in the Olympic games? And I, too, by the Gods; and a fine thing it would be. But mark the prefaces and the consequences, and then set to work. You must go under discipline, eat by rule, abstain from dainties, exercise yourself at the appointed hour, in heat or cold, whether you will or no, drink nothing cold, nor wine at will; in a word, you must give yourself over to the trainer as to a physician. Then in the contest itself there is the digging race,[1] and you are like enough to dislocate your wrist, or turn your ankle, to swallow a great deal of dust, to be soundly drubbed, and after all these things to be defeated.
3. If, having considered these things, you are still in the mind to enter for the contest, then do so. But without consideration you will turn from one thing to another like a child, who now plays the wrestler, now the gladiator, now sounds the trumpet, then declaims like an actor; and so you, too, will be first an athlete, then a gladiator, then an orator, then a philosopher, and nothing with your whole soul; but as an ape you will mimic everything you see, and be charmed with one thing after another. For you approached nothing with consideration nor regularity, but rashly, and with a cold desire.