Ch. 6
Concerning those who are annoyed at being pitied.
It vexes me, say you, to be pitied. Is this your
affair, then, or theirs who pity you? And further, how is it in your power to prevent it? " It is,
if I show them that I do not need pity." But are
you now in such a condition as not to need pity, or
are you not? "I think I am. But these people do
not pity me for what, if anything, would deserve pity,
my faults; but for poverty, and want of power, and
sicknesses, and deaths, and other things of that kind."
Are you, then, prepared to convince the world that
none of these things is in reality an evil; but that it
is possible for a person to be happy, even when he is
poor, and without honors and power? Or are you
prepared to put on the appearance of being rich and
powerful? The last of these is the part of an arrogant, silly, worthless fellow. Observe, too, by what
means this fiction must be carried on. You must
hire some poor slaves, and get possessed of a few
little pieces of plate, and often show them in public;
and though they are the same, endeavor to conceal
that they are the same; you must have gay clothes
and other finery, and make a show of being honored
by your great people; and endeavor to sup with
them, or be thought to sup with them; and use some
vile arts with your person, to make it appear handsomer and genteeler than it really is. All this you
must contrive, if you would take the second way not
to be pitied. And the first is impracticable as well as
tedious, to undertake the very thing that Zeus himself could not do, - to convince all mankind what
things are really good and evil. Is this granted you?
The only thing granted you is to convince yourself;
and you have not yet done that; and yet do you
undertake to convince others? Why, who has lived
so long with you as you have with yourself? Who
is so likely to have faith in you, in order to be convinced by you, as yourself? Who is more truly a
well-wisher or a friend to you than yourself? How
is it, then, that you have not yet convinced yourself?
Should you not now revolve these things? What
you were studying was this: to learn to be exempt
from grief, perturbation, and meanness, and to be
free. Have you not heard, then, that the only way
that leads to this is to give up what is beyond the
control of will; to withdraw from it, and confess that
it belongs to others? To what order of things belongs another's opinion about you? "Things uncontrollable by will." Is it nothing then to you?
" Nothing." While you are still piqued and disturbed about it, then, do you consider that you are
convinced concerning good and evil?
Letting others alone, then, why will you not be
your own scholar and teacher? Let others look to it,
whether it be for their advantage to think and act
contrary to nature; but no one is nearer to me than
myself. What means this? I have heard the reasonings of philosophers, and assented to them; yet,
in fact, I am not the more relieved. Am I so stupid?
And yet, in other things to which I had an inclination, I was not found very stupid; but I quickly
learned grammar and the exercises of the palaestra,
and geometry, and the solution of syllogisms. Has
not reason, then, convinced me? And yet there is
no one of the other things that I so much approved
or liked from the very first. And now I read concerning these subjects, I hear discourses upon them,
I write about them, and I have not yet found any
principle more sure then this. What, then, do I
need? Is not this the difficulty, that the contrary
principles are not removed out of my mind? Is it
not that I have not strengthened these opinions by
exercise, nor practised them in action; but, like arms
thrown aside, they are grown rusty, and do not suit
me? Yet neither in the palaestra, nor writing, nor
reading, nor solving syllogisms, am I contented with
merely learning; but I apply in every way the forms
of arguments which are presented to me, and I invent
others; and the same of convertible propositions.
But the necessary principles by which I might become exempted from fear, grief, and passion, and be
unrestrained and free, I do not exercise, nor bestow
on them the proper care. And then I trouble myself
what others will say of me; whether I shall appear
to them worthy of regard; whether I shall appear
happy. Will you not see, foolish man, what you can
say of yourself; what sort of person you appear to
yourself in your opinions, in your desires, in your
aversions, in your pursuits, in your preparation, in
your intention, in the other proper works of a man?
But instead of that, do you trouble yourself whether
others pity you? "Very true. But I am pitied without reason." Then are you not pained by this?
And is not he who is in pain to be pitied? " Yes."
How, then, are you pitied without reason? For you
render yourself worthy of pity by what you suffer upon
being pitied.
What says Antisthenes, then? Have you never
heard?- " It is kingly, O Cyrus, to do well and to be
ill spoken of." My head is well, and all around me
think it aches. What is that to me? I am free
from a fever; and they compassionate me as if I had
one. "Poor soul, what a long while have you had
this fever! " I say, too, with a dismal countenance,
Ay, indeed, it is now a long time that I have been
ill. "What can be the consequence, then? " What
pleases God. And at the same time I secretly laugh
at those who pity me. What forbids, then, but that
the same may be done in the other case? I am
poor, but I have right principles concerning poverty.
What is it to me, then, if people pity me for my
poverty? I am not in power and others are; but I
have such opinions as I ought to have concerning
power and the want of power. Let them see to it
who pity me. I am neither hungry, nor thirsty, nor
cold. But because they are hungry and thirsty, they
suppose me to be so too. What can I do for them?
Am I to go about making proclamation, and saying,
Do not deceive yourselves, good people, I am very
well; I care for neither poverty, nor want of power,
nor anything else but right principles? These I possess unrestrained, and care for nothing further.
But what trifling is this! How have I right principles when I am not contented to be what I am; but
am in agony as to how I shall appear? "But others
will get more, and be preferred to me." Well, what
is more reasonable than that they who take pains for
anything should get most in that particular direction
in which they take pains? They have taken pains for
power; you, for right principles. They, for riches;
you, for a proper use of the phenomena of existence.
See whether they have the advantage of you in that
for which you have taken pains, and which they
neglect; if they judge better concerning the natural
bounds and limits of things; if their desires are less
often disappointed than yours, their aversions less
often incurred; if they aim better in their intentions,
in their purposes, in their pursuits; if they preserve
a becoming behavior as men, as sons, as parents, and
so on with the other relations of life. But if they are
in power, and you not, why will you not speak the
truth to yourself; that you do nothing for the sake of
power, but that they do everything? It were very
reasonable that he who carefully seeks anything should
be less successful than he who neglects it! "No;
but since I take care to have right principles, it is
more reasonable that I should excel." Yes, in respect
to what you take pains about, your principles. But
give up to others the things in which they have taken
more pains than you. Else it is just as if, because
you have right principles, you should expect to aim
an arrow better than an archer, or to forge better than
a smith. In that case cease to take pains about principles, and apply yourself to those things which you
wish to possess, and then begin crying, if you do not
succeed; for you deserve to cry. But now you claim
that you are engaged and absorbed in other things;
and they say well that no man can be of two trades.
One man, as soon as he rises and goes out, seeks to
whom he may pay his compliments, whom he may
flatter, to whom he may send a present, how he may
please the favorite; how, by doing mischief to one,
he may oblige another. Whenever he prays, he prays
for things like these; whenever he sacrifices, he sacrifices for things like these. To these he transfers the
Pythagorean precept,-
Let not the stealing god of Sleep surprise.
Where have I failed in point of flattery? What have I done, - anything like a free, brave-spirited
man?76 If he should find anything of this sort, he rebukes and accuses himself. " What business had you
to say that? For could you not have lied? Even
the philosophers say there is no objection against telling a lie."
But, on the other hand, if you have in reality been
careful about nothing else but to make a right use of
the phenomena of existence; then, as soon as you
are up in the morning, consider what you need in
order to be free from passion; what, to enjoy tranquillity? "In what do I consist,- merely in body,
in estate, in reputation? None of these. What, then?
I am a reasonable creature. What, then, is required
of me? " Meditate upon your actions. Where have I failed in any requisite for prosperity? What have I done, either unfriendly or unsocial? What have I omitted that was necessary in these points?
Since there is so much difference, then, in your desires, your actions, your wishes, would you yet have
an equal share with others in those things about which
you have not taken pains, and they have? And do
you wonder, after all, and are you out of humor, if
they pity you? But they are not out of humor, if you
pity them. Why? Because they are convinced that
they are in possession of their proper good; but you
are not convinced that you are. Hence you are not
contented with your own condition, but desire theirs;
whereas they are contented with theirs, and do not
desire yours. For if you were really convinced that
it is you who are in possession of what is good, and
that they are mistaken, you would not so much as
think what they say about you.