A Stoic Breviary

Him I call indeed a Brahmana who knows his former abodes, who sees heaven and hell, has reached the end of births, is perfect in knowledge, a sage, and whose perfections are all perfect. 

Again, of good things, some are things which exist in themselves and some are relative dispositions. 

Knowledge, just action, and similar things are things which exist in themselves. 

Honor, goodwill, friendship, and agreement are relative. 

And knowledge is a grasp which is secure and unchangeable by argument. 

Another definition: knowledge is a complex system of grasps of this sort, such as knowledge of the particulars, which is, in the virtuous man, rational. 

Another definition: a complex system of craftsmanlike knowledge, which provides its own stability, which is what the virtues are like. 

Another definition: a condition receptive of presentations which is unchangeable by argument, which they say consists in a tension and power of the soul. 

Friendship is a community of life. Agreement is a sharing of opinions about things relevant to life. 

Within friendship, familiarity is friendship with people who are well known to you; habituation is friendship with people you have become accustomed to; companionship is friendship by choice, such as that with one’s contemporaries; guest-friendship is friendship with foreigners; there is also a kind of family friendship between relatives; and an erotic friendship based on sexual love. 

And painlessness and organization are the same as temperance, just as insight and wits are the same as prudence, and sharing and generosity are the same as good-heartedness; for they have been given names by reference to their relative dispositions. And one must note this too in each of the other virtues. 

IMAGE: Carl Spitzweg, Childhood Friends (1855) 

—Publilius Syrus

IMAGE: John Everett Millais, Trust Me (1862)

[1] My son, be attentive to my wisdom, incline your ear to my understanding; [2] that you may keep discretion, and your lips may guard knowledge. [3] For the lips of a loose woman drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil; [4] but in the end she is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword. [5] Her feet go down to death; her steps follow the path to Sheol; [6] she does not take heed to the path of life; her ways wander, and she does not know it. 

IMAGE: Gustave Moreau, Delilah (c. 1896) 

Man's character is his fate. 

IMAGE: Henry Fuseli, The Death of Oedipus (c. 1784) 

. . . Well, but what is properly our own excellence, upon the account of which we may be admitted to look upon ourselves? As better and happier than we were before? 

At the beginning of this book, the first thing he mentioned of this kind, was a just and true opinion; but here he calls it a right use and management of ideas; so that opinion in that place, and ideas in this, signify one and the same thing. For we judge of things by the different representations of them to our minds, and those judgements are sometimes true, and sometimes false. 

Now the right management of ideas is, when what appears to us, agrees exactly with the nature of things themselves; and when we proceed upon these appearances, so that the judgments we form upon them, carry nothing in them that is false and inconsistent; as it would be if we should affirm, that intemperance is good, and temperance evil.

But the most proper sense of this use of ideas, as nature and reason direct, I look upon to be a desire of those things that are good, and an aversion and detestation of those that are evil. When we have not only a bare speculative notion, what is good and what is evil, but desire and pursue that which we think to be good, and decline and abhor that which we think to be evil. 

And this may very well be called our own proper excellence; because the regulation of our desire and aversions, according to reason and nature, is always in our own power; though the exerting these, and making them effectual by outward acts, is not always so. 

And yet it is highly probable, that Epictetus may intend something farther still, by this right use of ideas, which is, that our practice and behavior should express a constant conformity to these true opinions and regular desires: that we should not think it sufficient to declare it our sense, that temperance is a virtue, but should be actually temperate, and make all our actions speak the conceptions of our minds, and the regularity of our desires upon this occasion; not to satisfy ourselves with the empty commendations of justice, nor with a few faint and feeble desires of this virtue; for this is what follows of course, and whatever we apprehend as desirable too at the same time, and yet allow ourselves in acts of injustice. 

This is the case of impotent and incontinent persons; they desire virtue, but that desire is overborne by a stronger, which inclines to pleasure. Their reason discerns what should be done, though not so clearly and powerfully as it might and ought, and for a while stands up in its vindication; and the virtuous desires and aversions, which are rightly disposed, but weak and confused, strike in, and take its part; but presently the brutish inclinations, like an impetuous torrent, bear down all before them, distract and divert the man from his cooler purposes, and drive him to what is most agreeable to his present heat. 

This is just the description before of Medea, when the tragedian brings her in with these words, which I have so oft had occasion to repeat.

Remorse and sense of guilt pull back my soul,  But stronger passion does her powers control;  With rage transported, I push boldly on,  And see the precipice I cannot shun. 

So then, it is by no means sufficient, that a man’s judgment is rightly informed, and that his desires be virtuously inclined in many instances, unless he be all of a piece; unless he takes care, the commendableness of his practice holds correspondence with the truth of his opinions. 

This is the right and best use of our ideas, and this we may think our own peculiar excellence; but no external advantage can ever be so. 

Illustrations are at hand: Did not the sons of Iocasta, when they became at variance in their desire for more, the one wishing to be sole ruler, and the other seeking by fair means or foul to secure his portion of the kingdom—did they not, though brothers, slay each the other and bring the greatest evils, both of them, upon those who espoused their causes, since the invaders of the land straightway perished, while those who fought to defend it were worsted soon after because they would not allow the corpses to be buried? 

And again, on account of the greed of one man who carried off Helen and the possessions of Menelaus, the inhabitants of Asia's greatest city perished along with their children and wives, for harboring one woman and a little property they paid so huge a penalty. 

Then take the case of Xerxes, the master of the other continent. When he cast covetous eyes upon Greece too, and collected and brought against her so mighty a fleet and so many myriads, he shamefully lost all his armament and with difficulty saved his own person by taking to flight himself; and afterwards he was forced to endure the ravishing of his country and of his cities on the seacoast. 

As a further illustration take Polycrates: They say that so long as he was ruler of Samos alone he enjoyed the greatest felicity of any man in the whole world; but that when he wished to meddle somewhat in the affairs of the people of the opposite mainland and sailed across for the purpose of getting money from Orestes, he met with no easy death, but was impaled by that barbarian prince and thus perished.  These instances, in order that they be warning examples to you, I have taken not only from exceedingly ancient, but also from subsequent times, and as related both in poetry and in narrative prose. 

Then it is worth your while to call to mind the attitude of the god likewise, that he also by his very nature punishes the covetous. When, for instance, the Spartans consulted his oracle to ask if he gave Arcadia to them, he not only refused them, but rebuked their insatiable greed in the following words: 

Arcadia thou askest of me? 'Tis much! Nay, give it I'll not, 

but also imposed a penalty upon them and foretold the future, yet in such a way that they did not understand, but marched against Tegea to meet with disasters known of all men. And yet, while plainly denying Arcadia to them, he would not give them Tegea either. For this was the strongest and most important place in Arcadia. But, speaking generally, the majority of mankind are so covetous that they have not even ears to hear, nor do they so much as understand words of warning when spoken. 

At another time, when the Athenians asked about the island of Sicily, the oracle answered that they should annex to their city "Sicily," this being the name of a hill near the city. But they paid no attention to what was near at hand and before their eyes; so bereft of sense were they on account of their lust for more, that they imagined the god was telling them to enclose without one wall Athens and an island some ten thousand stades distant. 

As a result they sailed thither, and not only failed to get Sicily, but lost Attica as well, and saw their city itself in the hands of her enemies. 

And if you should wish to enumerate all such examples as these, it is clear that not even in a year's time would you run out of them. Then consider, I beg of you, that most men regard physical strength as one of the blessings of life; yet I believe that in the case of those who have the greatest physical strength and greatly excel in bodily vigor, it is of advantage to sacrifice a part of this; for in my opinion what exceeds the right proportion is very troublesome. 

In the same manner wealth which may be put to use does not, if it be moderate, injure its possessor, but makes his life easier and certainly frees it from want; but if it becomes excessive, it causes far more worries and troubles than that which passes for pleasure; and many have rued the day when they acquired enormous wealth, while some for this very reason have come to lack even the barest necessities. 

So far so good! But let us take our own selves: If each element that makes up our being should wish to have the advantage, would it be possible for us to keep alive for the shortest time? 

I mean, for example, if the blood should increase a little beyond the proper proportion, or even if something or other in us should increase the pressure of the warm breath beyond its due and proper proportion, do you not know that serious and dangerous illnesses inevitably come on? And in the harmonies of these instruments of our bodies, if any one of the strings should get more than its share of tension, in Heaven's name must not the harmony as a whole be destroyed? 

As for me, I wonder greatly how we should have acted if we had not received the shortest span of life from the gods! However, just as if we were making our plans for an endless life, we strive earnestly each to have more than his neighbor. 

Just as any man, then, who knowing that he has a voyage of only two or three days' duration at the most before him, should nevertheless put enough provisions on board to last a year, will be regarded as a fool; in the same way, any man who, being fully aware that he could not live more than the allotted span of seventy years, should provide himself with substance to last him a thousand years would he not be equally and in the same way insane? 

Indeed there are some who lay in stores so great that, if they were out at sea, their ship would founder at once. And I swear it does happen to countless numbers. 

So much for that. Well then, if a man has invited ten or fifteen guests to a banquet and although needing to satisfy only so many, should then go on and make ready food enough for five hundred or a thousand, will he not be thought to be quite out of his mind? 

In like manner we also, although we know that the needs of the body are easy enough to count—for clothing, I suppose, and shelter and nourishment we do need—nevertheless strain ourselves to the utmost as if we were gathering supplies for an army and, I swear, there is good reason for our doing so; for the great majority are feeding in their hearts a whole army of desires. 

As for clothing, nobody wants to have it too large for his body, knowing that it would be inconvenient to wear; but property altogether too large for their needs all men crave, not understanding that this is more objectionable than the other. 

I think, too, that Croesus the Lydian, when he wanted to expose the insatiable greed of men, did this admirably. He conducted a group of men into his treasure-house and permitted them to take away just as much gold as each man could carry on his person. 

For we see that most of them not only filled the bosoms of their clothing, but carried away some of the dust upon their heads and in their mouths and that they could scarcely walk, cutting a ridiculous figure, all twisted out of shape as they were. 

Suffer not yourself to be exalted with any excellence not properly your own. 

If your horse should be transported with his beauty, and boast of it, this would be tolerable in him: but when you value yourself, and brag of his beauty, consider, that you are not proud of an excellence in yourself, but in your horse. 

You will say then, what is a man’s own? 

I answer, a right use of his ideas. And when you manage these as you ought, then you may be allowed to please yourself. For this is being exalted with some excellence that is properly yours. 

Comment: 

The foregoing chapters acquainted us, what method must be taken to deliver ourselves from grief and fear and confusion, when any calamitous circumstances from without threaten our peace: this directs us, how to preserve an even and composed mind, when any external advantages would shake our moderation. 

Now these advantages he calls none of ours, in agreement with what he said at the beginning of his book, that the things out of our power are feeble, and servile, and liable to opposition, and not ours, but another’s. And upon the being conscious to ourselves of any such seeming advantages, he forbids us to be exalted. 

By this exaltation, I understand here, not any insolence, or haughtiness, or arrogance of humor, as the word is sometimes used in an ill sense; for sure we are not allowed to be exalted in such a manner as this, upon the account of any advantage whatsoever, though never so real a good, though never so truly our own, but, as I apprehend, this exaltation signifies the being satisfied with ourselves; and imagining, that we are better or happier upon the account of some additional good, which now we have, but had not formerly. 

So that he says, we must not think ourselves ever the better, for that good which belongs not to us; nor imagine, that another’s excellence adds anything to ours. For every good belongs to his own proper subject, in which it subsists, and whose quality it is; and no other can pretend to any right in it. 

The goodness, for instance, of a horse, belongs to the horse himself, and not to us; for if he be bold, and fleet, and manageable, he hath indeed the proper excellencies of a horse; but which way does this make for our commendation? How is this the excellence of a man? Or what augmentation can the virtue or the happiness of his owner receive from it? 

Yes, you will say, the excellence of any possessions redounds to the possessor, and the goodness of the instruments to the benefit of the artificers that use them. According to the common opinion of the world, it is acknowledged they do. 

But pray, is the excellency of an axe, suppose, able to make him a good carpenter, who was not one before? In this case therefore we would distinguish, between the excellencies peculiar to the tool, and those peculiar to the workman, with relation to the trade he professes. 

The proper excellence of an axe is to carry a good edge, and to be made neat and true; this renders it fit for service, and for the work to be cut out by it: for every instrument is commended by its work.