Harris obligingly lent it to me after I had published the proposals for printing this, which, notwithstanding the assistance given me in the prosecution of it, hath still, I am sensible, great faults. But they who will see them the most clearly will be the readiest to excuse, as they will know best the difficulty of avoiding them. There is one circumstance which, I am apprehensive, must be particularly striking, and possibly shocking to many, the frequent use of some words in an unpopular sense; an inconvenience which, however, I flatter myself, the introduction and notes will, in some degree, remove. In the translation of technical terms, if the same Greek word had not always been rendered in the same manner, at least when the propriety of our language will at all permit it, every new expression would have been apt to raise a new idea. The reader, I hope, will pardon, if not approve, the uncouthness, in many places, of a translation pretty strictly literal; as it seemed necessary, upon the whole, to preserve the original spirit, the peculiar turn and characteristic roughness of the author. For else, taking greater liberties would have spared me no small pains.
I have been much indebted to Mr. Upton's edition, by which many passages, unintelligible before, are cleared up. His emendations have often assisted me in the text, and his references furnished me with materials for the historical notes.
ELIZABETH CARTER.
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The Moral Discourses of Epictetus
ARRIAN
TO
LUCIUS GELLIUS
WISHETH ALL HAPPINESS
I NEITHER composed the Discourses of Epictetus in such a manner as things of this nature are commonly composed, nor did I myself produce them to public view any more than I composed them. But whatever sentiments I heard from his own mouth, the very same I endeavoured to set down in the very same words, as far as possible, and preserve as memorials, for my own use, of his manner of thinking and freedom of speech.
These discourses are such as one person would naturally deliver from his own thoughts, extempore, to another; not such as he would prepare to be read by numbers afterwards. Yet, notwithstanding this, I cannot tell how, without either my consent or knowledge, they have fallen into the hands of the public. But it is of little consequence to me if I do not appear an able writer;and of none to Epictetus if any one treats his discourses1 with contempt; since it was very evident, even when he uttered them, that he aimed at nothing more than to excite his hearers to virtue. If they produce that one effect, they have in them what, I think, philosophical discourses ought to have. And should they fail of it, let the readers, however, be assured, that when Epictetus himself pronounced them, his audience could not help being affected in the very manner he intended they should. If by themselves they have less efficacy, perhaps it is my fault, or perhaps it is unavoidable.—Farewell.
1He means the composition, not the subject matter of them.
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Book I
Chapter I
Of the Things Which Are, and Of Those Which Are Not, in Our Own Power
§ 1. OF other faculties, you will find no one that contemplates, or consequently approves or disapproves, itself. How far does the contemplative power of grammar extend?
As far as the judging of language.
Of music?
As far as judging of melody.
Does either of them contemplate itself, then?
By no means.
Thus, for instance, when you are to write to your friend, grammar will tell you what to write: but whether you are to write to your friend at all, or no, grammar will not tell you. Thus music, with regard to tunes; but whether it be proper or improper at any particular time to sing or play, music will not tell you.
What will tell, then?
That which contemplates both itself and all other things.
And what is that?
The reasoning faculty; for that alone is found to consider both itself, its powers, its value, and likewise all the rest. For what is it else that says gold is beautiful? (for the gold itself does not speak). Evidently that faculty which judges of the appearances of things.1 What else distinguishes music, grammar, the other faculties, proves their uses, and shows their proper occasions?
Nothing but this.
§ 2. As it was fit, then, this most excellent and superior faculty alone, a right use of the appearances of things, the gods have placed in our own power; but all other matters not in our power. Was it because they would not? I rather think, that if they could, they had granted us these too: but they certainly could not. For, placed upon Earth, and confined to such a body, and to such companions, how was it possible that in these respects we should not be hindered by things without us?
§ 3. But what says Jupiter? "O Epictetus, if it were possible, I had made this little body and property of thine free, and not liable to hindrance. But now do not mistake: it is not thine own, but only a finer mixture of clay.2 Since, then, I could not 3 give thee this, I have given thee a certain portion of myself: this faculty of exerting the powers of pursuit and avoidance,4 of desire and aversion; and, in a word, the use of the appearances of things. Taking care of this point, and making what is thy own to consist in this, thou wilt never be restrained, never be hindered; thou wilt not groan, wilt not complain, wilt not flatter any one. How then! Do all these advantages seem small to thee?" Heaven forbid! "Let them suffice thee then, and thank the gods."
§ 4. But now, when it is in our power to take care of one thing, and to apply to one, we choose rather to take care of many, and to encumber ourselves with many; body, property, brother, friend, child, and slave; and by this multiplicity of encumbrances we are burdened and weighed down. Thus, when the weather doth not happen to be fair for sailing, we sit screwing ourselves, and perpetually looking out.—Which way is the wind?—North.—What have we to do with that?—When will the west blow?—When itself, friend, or Æolus pleases; for Jupiter has not made you dispenser of the winds, but Æolus.
§ 5. What, then, is to be done?
To make the best of what is in our power, and take the rest as it naturally happens.
And how is that?
As it pleases God.
What, then, must I be the only one to lose my head?
Why, would you have all the world, then, lose their heads for your consolation? Why are not you willing to stretch out your neck, like Lateranus,5 when he was commanded by Nero to be beheaded? For, shrinking a little after receiving a weak blow, he stretched it out again. And, before this, when Epaphroditus,6 the freedman of Nero, interrogated him about the conspiracy; "If I have a mind to say any thing," replied he, "I will tell it to your master."
§ 6. What then should we have at hand upon such occasions? Why what else but—what is mine, and what not mine; what is permitted me, and what not.—I must die: and must I die groaning too?—Be fettered.
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