"What, then, must my leg be lame?" And is it for one paltry leg, wretch, that you accuse the world? Why will you not give it up to the whole? Why will you not withdraw yourself from it? Why will you not gladly yield it to him who gave it? And will you be angry and discontented with the decrees of Jupiter, which he, with the Fates who spun in his presence the thread of your birth, ordained and appointed? Do you not know how very small a part you are of the whole? That is, as to body; for as to reason you are neither worse, nor less, than the gods. For reason is not measured by length or height, but by principles. Will you not therefore place your good there, where you are equal to the gods?4 "How wretched am I in such a father and mother!" What, then, was it granted you to come beforehand, and make your own terms, and say: "Let such and such persons, at this hour, be the authors of my birth? "It was not granted; for it was necessary that your parents should exist before you, and so you be born afterwards. Of whom? Of just such as they were. What, then, since they are such, is there no remedy afforded you? Now, surely, if you were ignorant to what purpose you possess the faculty of sight, you would be wretched and miserable in shutting your eyes at the approach of colours, and are not you more wretched and miserable in being ignorant that you have a greatness of soul and a manly spirit, answerable to each of the above-mentioned accidents? Occurrences proportioned to your faculty [of discernment] are brought before you; but you turn it away at the very time when you ought to have it the most open and quick-sighted. Why do not you rather thank the gods that they have made you superior to whatever they have not placed in your own power, and have rendered you accountable for that only which is in your own power? Of your parents they acquit you; as not accountable of your brothers they acquit you; of body, possessions, death, life, they acquit you. For what, then, have they made you accountable? For that which is alone in your own power, a right use of the appearances of objects. Why, then, should you draw those things upon yourself for which you are not accountable? This is giving one's self trouble without need.
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Chapter XIII
How Everything May Be Performed Acceptably to the Gods
WHEN a person inquired, how any one might eat acceptably to the gods: If he eats with justice, says Epictetus, and gratitude, and fairly and temperately and decently, must he not also eat acceptably to the gods? And when you call for hot water, and your servant doth not hear you, or, if he doth, brings it only warm; or perhaps is not to be found at home; then not to be angry, or burst with passion, is not this acceptable to the gods?
But how, then, can one bear such things?
Wretch, will you not bear with your own brother, who hath God for his father, as being a son from the same stock, and of the same high descent? But if you chance to be placed in some superior station, will you presently set yourself up for a tyrant? Will you not remember what you are, and over whom you bear rule? That they are by nature your relations, your brothers; that they are the offspring of God?1
But I have them by right of purchase, and not they me.
Do you see what it is you regard? That it is earth and mire, and these wretched laws of dead2 men, and that you do not regard those of the gods.
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Chapter XIV
That All Things Are under the Divine Inspection
§ 1. WHEN a person asked him, how any one might be convinced that each of his actions are under the inspection of God: Do not you think, says Epictetus, that all things are mutually bound together and united?
I do.
Well; and do not you think that things on earth feel the influence of the heavenly bodies?
Yes.
Else how could the trees so regularly, as if by God's express command, bud,1 blossom, bring forth fruit, and ripen it; then let it drop, and shed their leaves, and lie contracted within themselves in quiet and repose, all when he speaks the word? Whence, again, are there seen, on the increase and decrease of the moon, and the approach and departure of the sun, so great vicissitudes and changes to the direct contrary in earthly things? Have then the very leaves, and our own bodies, this connection and sympathy with the whole, and have not our souls much more? But our souls are thus connected and intimately joined to God, as being indeed members and distinct portions of his essence; and must not he be sensible of every movement of them as belonging, and connatural to himself? Can even you think of the divine administration, and every other divine subject, and, together with these, of human affairs also: can you at once receive impressions on your senses and your understanding from a thousand objects; at once assent to some things, deny or suspend your judgment concerning others, and preserve in your mind impressions from so many and various objects, and whenever you are moved by [the traces of] them, hit on ideas similar to those which first impressed you: can you retain a variety of arts, and the memorials of ten thousand things, and is not God capable of surveying all things, and being present with all, and receiving a certain communication from all? Is the sun capable of illuminating so great a portion of the universe, and of leaving only that small part of it unilluminated which is covered by the shadow of the earth; and cannot he who made and revolves the sun, a small part of himself if compared with the whole, cannot he perceive all things?
§ 2. "But I cannot" (say you) "attend to all things at once." Why, doth any one tell you that you have equal power with Jupiter? No! but nevertheless he has assigned to each man a director, his own good genius, and committed him to his guardianship; a director whose vigilance no slumbers interrupt, and whom no false reasoning can deceive. For to what better and more careful guardian could he have committed us? So that when you have shut your doors, and darkened your room, remember never to say that you are alone, for you are not; but God is within, and your genius is within, and what need have they of light to see what you are doing? To2 this God you likewise ought to swear such an oath as the soldiers do to Cæsar. For do they, in order to receive their pay, swear to prefer before all things the safety of Cæsar, and will not you swear, who have received so many and so great favours, or if you have sworn, will you not stand to it? And what must you swear? Never to disobey, nor accuse, nor murmur at any of the things appointed by him, nor unwillingly to do or suffer anything necessary. Is this oath like the former? In the first, persons swear not to honour any other beyond Cæsar; in the last, beyond all, to honour themselves.
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Chapter XV
What It Is That Philosophy Promises
§ 1. WHEN one consulted him, how he might persuade his brother to forbear treating him ill: Philosophy, answered Epictetus, doth not promise to procure anything external to man, otherwise it would admit something beyond its proper subject-matter. For the subject-matter of a carpenter is wood; of a statuary, brass: and so of the art of living, the subject-matter is each person's own life.
What, then, is my brother's?
That, again, belongs to his own art [of living]; but to yours is external like an estate, like health, like reputation. Now, philosophy promises none of these. In every circumstance I will preserve the governing part conformable to nature. Whose governing part? His in whom I exist.
But how, then, is my brother to lay aside his anger against me?
Bring him to me, and I will tell him; but I have nothing to say to you about his anger.
§ 2. Well, but I still farther ask, How am I to keep myself in a state of mind conformable to nature though he should not be reconciled to me?
No great thing is brought to perfection suddenly, when not so much as a bunch of grapes or a fig is. If you tell me that you would at this minute have a fig, I will answer you, that there must be time. Let it first1 blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. Is then the fruit of a fig-tree not brought to perfection suddenly, and in one hour; and would you possess the fruit of the human mind in so short a time, and without trouble? I tell you, expect no such thing.
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Chapter XVI
Of Providence
§ 1. BE not surprised, if other animals have all things necessary to the body ready provided for them, not only meat and drink but lodging: that they want neither shoes, nor bedding, nor clothes, while we stand in need of all these. For they not being made for themselves, but for service, it was not fit that they should be formed so as to need the help of others. For, consider what it would be for us to take care, not only for ourselves, but for sheep and asses too, how they should be clothed, how shod, and how they should eat and drink. But as soldiers are ready for their commander, shod, clothed, and armed (for it would be a grievous thing for a colonel to be obliged to go through his regiment to put on their shoes and clothes), so nature likewise has formed the animals made for service, ready provided, and standing in need of no further care. Thus one little boy, with only a crook, drives a flock.
§ 2. But now we, instead of being thankful for this, complain of God that there is not the same kind of care taken of us likewise. And yet, good heaven! any one thing in the creation is sufficient to demonstrate a providence to a modest and grateful mind. Not to instance at present in great things, but only in the very production of milk from grass, cheese from milk, and wool from skins: who formed and contrived these things? No one, say you.
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