Ch. 25
On the same subject.
If these things are true; and if we are not stupid
or insincere when we say that the good or ill of
man lies within his own will, and that all beside is
nothing to us, why are we still troubled? Why do
we still fear? What truly concerns us is in no one's
power; what is in the power of others concerns not
us. What embarrassment have we left?
" But you must direct me."
Why should I direct you? Has not Zeus directed
you? Has he not given you what is your own. incapable of restraint or hindrance; and what is not your
own, liable to both? What directions, then, what
orders, have you brought from him? " By all means
guard what is your own; what belongs to others do
not covet. Honesty is your own; a sense of virtuous
shame is your own. Who, then, can deprive you of
these? Who can restrain you from making use of
them, but yourself? And how do you do it? When
you make that your concern which is not truly your
own, you lose that which is." Having such precepts
and directions from Zeus, what sort do you still want
from me? Am I better than He, or more worthy of
credit? If you observe these precepts, what others
do you need? Are not these His? Apply the. recognized principles; apply the demonstrations of philosophers; apply what you have often heard, and what
you have said yourself; what you have read, and what
you have carefully studied.
How long is it right to devote one's self to these
things and not break up the game?
As long as it goes on well. A king is chosen at
the Saturnalian Festival, supposing it to be agreed
to play at that game; he orders: "Do you drink;
you mix the wine; you sing: you go; you come." I
obey, that the game may not be broken up by my
fault.
[Then he orders] "I bid you think yourself to be
unhappy." I do not think so; and who shall compel
me to think so?
Again, suppose we agree to play Agamemnon and
Achilles. He who is appointed for Agamemnon says
to me, " Go to Achilles, and force away Briseis." I
go. "Come." I come. We should deal with life
as with these imaginary orders.
"Suppose it to be night." Well, suppose it. "Is
it day then?" No; for I admitted the hypothesis,
that it was night. "Suppose that you think it to be
night." Well, suppose it. "But you must really
think that it is night." That by no means follows
from the hypothesis. Thus it is in the case illustrated.
Suppose you have ill luck? Suppose it. "Are you
then unlucky?" Yes. "Are you thoroughly unfor-
tunate?" Yes. "Well; but you must really regard
yourself as miserable." But this is no part of the assumption, and there is a power who forbids me [to
admit that].
How far, then, are we to carry such analogies? As
far as is useful; that is, till we go farther than is reasonable and fit.
Moreover, some are peevish and fastidious, and say,
I cannot dine with such a fellow, to be obliged to
hear him all day recounting how he fought in Mysia.
"I told you, my friend, how I gained the eminence."
There I begin to suffer another siege. But another
says, " I had rather get a dinner, and hear him prate
as much as he pleases."
Do you decide between these opinions; but do not
let it be with depression and anxiety, and the assumption that you are miserable, for no one compels you
to that. Is there smoke in my house? If it be moderate, I will stay; if very great, I will go out. For
you must always remember, and hold to this, that the
door is open. "You are forbidden to live at Nicopolis." Then I will not live there. " Nor at Athens."
Well, nor at Athens. " Nor at Rome." Nor at Rome.
"But you shall live at Gyaros."20 I will live there.
But suppose that living at Gyaros seems to me like
living in a great smoke. I can then retire where no
one can forbid me to live, for it is an abode open to
all, and put off my last garment, this poor body of
mine; beyond this, no one has any power over me.
Thus Demetrius said to Nero: "You sentence me
to death; and Nature you." If I prize my body first,
I have surrendered myself as a slave; if my estate,
the same; for I at once betray where I am vulnerable. Just as when a reptile pulls in his head, I bid
you strike that part of him which he guards; and be
you assured, that wherever you show a desire to guard
yourself. there your master will attack you. Remember but this, and whom will you any longer flatter or
fear?
"But I want to sit where the senators do."
Do not you see, that by this you incommode and
torment yourself?
"Why, how else shall I see the show in the Amphitheatre advantageously? "
Do not insist on seeing it, O man ! and you will
not be incommoded. Why do you vex yourself?
Or wait a little while; and when the show is over, go
sit in the senators' places and sun yourself. For remember, that this holds universally, - we incommode
and torment ourselves; that is, our own preconceived
notions do it for us. What is it to be reviled, for
instance? Stand by a stone and revile it, and what
will you get by it? If you, therefore, would listen
only as a stone, what would your reviler gain? But
if the reviler has the weakness of the reviled for a
vantage-ground, then he carries his point.
"Strip him" [bids the tyrant]. What mean you
by him? Take my clothes, strip them, at your pleasure. "I meant only to insult you." Much good
may it do you.
These things were the study of Socrates; and by
these means he always preserved the same countenance. Yet we had rather exercise and study anything, than how to become unrestrained and free.
" But the philosophers talk paradoxes." And are
there not paradoxes in other arts? What is more
paradoxical than to prick any one's eye, that he may
see? Should one tell this to one ignorant of surgery,
would not he laugh at him? What wonder then, if
in philosophy also many truths appear paradoxes to
the ignorant?