Epictetus: The Discourses
Book Four, Chapter 7 On freedom from fear
What makes the tyrant formidable? "The guards," you say,
"and their swords, and the men of the bedchamber and those who exclude them who
would enter." Why, then, if you bring a boy to the tyrant when he is with his
guards, is he not afraid; or is it because the child does not understand these
things? If, then, any man does understand what guards are and that they have
swords, and comes to the tyrant for this very purpose because he wishes to die
on account of some circumstance and seeks to die easily by the hand of another,
is he afraid of the guards? "No, for he wishes for the thing which makes the
guards formidable." If, then, neither any man wishing to die nor to live by all
means, but only as it may be permitted, approaches the tyrant, what hinders him
from approaching the tyrant without fear? "Nothing." If, then, a man has the
same opinion about his property as the man whom I have instanced has about his
body; and also about his children and his wife, and in a word is so affected by
some madness or despair that he cares not whether he possesses them or not, but
like children who are playing, with shells care about the play, but do not
trouble themselves about the shells, so he too has set no value on the
materials, but values the pleasure that he has with them and the occupation,
what tyrant is then formidable to him or what guards or what swords?
Then through madness is it possible for a man to be so
disposed toward these things, and the Galilaens through habit, and is it
possible that no man can learn from reason and from demonstration that God has
made all the things in the universe and the universe itself completely free from
hindrance and perfect, and the parts of it for the use of the whole? All other
animals indeed are incapable of comprehending the administration of it; but the
rational animal, man, has faculties for the consideration of all these and for
understanding that it is a part, and what kind of a part it is, and that it is
right for the parts to be subordinate to the whole. And besides this being
naturally noble, magnanimous and free, man sees that of the things which
surround him some are free from hindrance and in his power, and the other things
are subject to hindrance and in the power of others; that the things which are
free from hindrance are in the power of the will; and those which are subject to
hinderance are the things which are not in the power of the will. And, for this
reason, if he thinks that his good and his interest be in these things only
which are free from hindrance and in his own power, he will be free, prosperous,
happy, free from harm, magnanimous pious, thankful to God for all things; in no
matter finding fault with any of the things which have not been put in his
power, nor blaming any of them. But if he thinks that his good and his interest
are in externals and in things which are not in the power of his will, he must
of necessity be hindered, be impeded, be a slave to those who have the power
over things which he admires and fears; and he must of necessity be impious
because he thinks that he is harmed by God, and he must be unjust because he
always claims more than belongs to him; and he must of necessity be abject and
mean.
What hinders a man, who has clearly separated these
things, from living with a light heart and bearing easily the reins, quietly
expecting everything which can happen, and enduring that which has already
happened? "Would you have me to bear poverty?" Come and you will know what
poverty is when it has found one who can act well the part of a poor man. "Would
you have me to possess power?" Let me have power, and also the trouble of it.
"Well, banishment?" Wherever I shall go, there it will be well with me; for here
also where I am, it was not because of the place that it was well with me, but
because of my opinions which I shall carry off with me: for neither can any man
deprive me of them; but my opinions alone are mine and they cannot he taken from
me, and I am satisfied while I have them, wherever I may be and whatever I am
doing. "But now it is time to die." Why do you say "to die"? Make no tragedy
show of the thing, but speak of it as it is: it is now time for the matter to be
resolved into the things out of which it was composed. And what is the
formidable thing here? what is going to perish of the things which are in the
universe? what new thing or wondrous is going to happen? Is it for this reason
that a tyrant is formidable? Is it for this reason that the guards appear to
have swords which are large and sharp? Say this to others; but I have considered
about all these thins; no man has power over me. I have been made free; I know
His commands, no man can now lead me as a slave. I have a proper person to
assert my freedom; I have proper judges. Are you not the master of my body?
What, then, is that to me? Are you not the master of my property? What, then, is
that to me? Are you not the master of my exile or of my chains? Well, from all
these things and all the poor body itself I depart at your bidding, when you
please. Make trial of your power, and you will know how far it reaches.
Whom then can I still fear? Those who are over the
bedchamber? Lest they should do, what? Shut me out? If they find that I wish to
enter, let them shut me out. "Why, then, do you go to the doors?" Because I
think it befits me, while the play lasts, to join in it. "How, then, are you not
shut out?" Because, unless some one allows me to go in, I do not choose to ,o
in, but am always content with that I which happens; for I think that what God
chooses is better than what I choose. I will attach myself as a minister and
follower to Him; I have the same movements as He has, I have the same desires;
in a word, I have the same will. There is no shutting out for me, but for those
who would force their in. Why, then, do not I force my way in? Because I know
that nothing good is distributed within to those who enter. But when I hear any
man called fortunate because he is honoured by Caesar, I say, "What does he
happen to get?" A province. Does he also obtain an opinion such as he ought? The
office of a Prefect. Does he also obtain the power of using his office well? Why
do I still strive to enter? A man scatters dried figs and nuts: the children
seize them and fight with one another; men do not, for they think them to be a
small matter. But if a man should throw about shells, even the children do not
seize them. Provinces are distributed: let children look to that. Money is
distributed: let children look to that. Praetorships, consulships are
distributed: let children scramble for them, let them be shut out, beaten, kiss
the hands of the giver, of the slaves: but to me these are only dried figs and
nuts. What then? If you fail to get them, while Caesar is scattering them about,
do not be troubled: if a dried fig come into your lap, take it and eat it; for
so far you may value even a fig. But if I shall stoop down and turn another
over, or be turned over by another, and shall flatter those who have got into
chamber, neither is a dried fig worth the trouble, nor anything else of the
things which are not good, which the philosophers have persuaded me not to think
good.
Show me the swords of the guards. "See how big they are,
and how sharp." What, then, do these big and sharp swords do? "They kill." And
what does a fever do? "Nothing else." And what else a tile? "Nothing else."
Would you then have me to wonder at these things and worship them, and go about
as the slave of all of them? I hope that this will not happen: but when I have
once learned that everything which has come into existence must also go out of
it, that the universe may not stand still nor be impeded, I no longer consider
it any difference whether a fever shall do it, or a tile, or a soldier. But if a
man must make a comparison between these things, I know that the soldier will do
it with less trouble, and quicker. When, then, I neither fear anything which a
tyrant can do to me, nor desire anything which he can give, why do I still look
on with wonder? Why am I still confounded? Why do I fear the guards? Why am I
pleased if he speaks to me in a friendly way, and receives me, and why do I tell
others how he spoke to me? Is he a Socrates, is he a Diogenes that his praise
should be a proof of what I am? Have I been eager to imitate his morals? But I
keep up the play and go to him, and serve him so long as he does not bid me to
do anything foolish or unreasonable. But if he says to me, "Go and bring Leon of
Salamis," I say to him, "Seek another, for I am no longer playing." "Lead him
away." I follow; that is part of the play. "But your head will be taken off."
Does the tyrant's head always remain where it is, and the heads of you who obey
him? "But you will be cast out unburied." If the corpse is I, I shall be cast
out; but if I am different from the corpse, speak more properly according as the
fact is, and do not think of frightening me. These things are formidable to
children and fools. But if any man has once entered a philosopher's school and
knows not what he is, he deserves to be full of fear and to flatter those whom
afterward he used to flatter; if he has not yet learned that he is not flesh nor
bones nor sinews, but he is that which makes use of these parts of the body and
governs them and follows the appearances of things.
"Yes, but this talk makes us despise the laws." And what
kind of talk makes men more obedient to the laws who employ such talk? And the
things which are in the power of a fool are not law. And yet see how this talk
makes us disposed as we ought to be even to these men; since it teaches us to
claim in opposition to them none of the things in which they are able to surpass
us. This talk teaches us, as to the body, to give it up, as to property, to give
that up also, as to children, parents, brothers, to retire from these, to give
up all; It only makes an exception of the opinions, which even Zeus has willed
to be the select property of every man. What transgression of the laws is there
here, what folly? Where you are superior and stronger, there I give way to you:
on the other hand, where I am superior, do you yield to me; for I have studied
this, and you have not. It is your study to live in houses with floors formed of
various stones, how your slaves and dependents shall serve you, how you shall
wear fine clothing, have many hunting men, lute players, and tragic actors. Do I
claim any of these? have you made any study of opinions and of your own rational
faculty? Do you know of what parts it is composed, how they are brought
together, how they are connected, what powers it has, and of what kind? Why then
are you vexed, if another, who has made it his study, has the advantage over you
in these things? "But these things are the greatest." And who hinders you from
being employed about these things and looking after them? And who has a better
stock of books, of leisure, of persons to aid you? Only turn your mind at last
to these things, attend, if it be only a short time, to your own ruling faculty:
consider what this is that you possess, and whence it came, this which uses all
others, and tries them, and selects and rejects. But so long as you employ
yourself about externals you will possess them as no man else does; but you will
have this such as you choose to have it, sordid and neglected.
Last reading: Chapter
6: Against those who lament over being pitied Next reading:
Chapter
8: Against those who hastily rush into the use of the philosophic dress
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