Book 3
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Well then; do you wish me to pay court to a certain person? to go to his doors?What follows hath no connection with what immediately preceded; but belongs to the general subject of the chapter. Mrs. Carter. The person with whom Epictetus chiefly held this discourse, seems to have been instructed by his friends to pay his respects to some great man at Nicopolis (perhaps the procurator, iii. 4. 1) and to visit his house. Schweig.—If reason requires this to be done for the sake of country, for the sake of kinsmen, for the sake of mankind, why should you not go? You are not ashamed to go to the doors of a shoemaker, when you are in want of shoes, nor to the door of a gardener, when you want lettuces; and are you ashamed to go to the doors of the rich when you want any thing?—Yes, for I have no awe of a shoemaker—Don’t feel any awe of the rich—Nor will I flatter the gardener—And do not flatter the rich— How then shall I get what I want?—Do I say to you, go as if you were certain to get what you want? And do not I only tell you, that you may do what is becoming to yourself? Why then should I still go? That you may have gone, that you may have discharged the duty of a citizen, of a brother, of a friend. And further remember that you have gone to the shoemaker, to the seller of vegetables, who have no power in any thing great or noble, though he may sell dear. You go to buy lettuces: they cost an obolus (penny), but not a talent. So it is here also. The matter is worth going for to the rich man’s door—Well, I will go —It is worth talking about—Let it be so; I will talk with him—But you must also kiss his hand and flatter him with praise—Away with that, it is a talent’s worth: it is not profitable to me, nor to the state nor to my friends, to have done that which spoils a good citizen and a friend.—But you will seem not to have been eager about the matter, if you do not succeed. Have you again forgotten why you went? Know you not that a good man does nothing for the sake of appearance, but for the sake of doing right?— What advantage is it then to him to have done right?—And what advantage is it to a man who writes the name of Dion to write it as he ought?—The advantage is to have written it.—Is there no reward thenThe reward of virtue is in the acts of virtue. The Stoics taught that virtue is its own reward. When I was a boy I have written this in copies, but I did not know what it meant. I know now that few people believe it; and like the man here, they inquire what reward they shall have for doing as they ought to do. A man of common sense would give no other answer than what Epictetus gives. But that will not satisfy all. The heathens must give the answer: For what more dost thou want when thou hast done a man a service? Art thou not content that thou hast done something conformable to thy nature, and dost thou seek to be paid for it? just as if the eye demanded a recompense for seeing or the feet for walking. M. Antoninus. ix. 42. Compare Seneca, de Vita Beata, c. 9.?—Do you seek a reward for a good man greater than doing what is good and just? At Olympia you wish for nothing more, but it seems to you enough to be crowned at the games. Does it seem to you so small and worthless a thing to be good and happy? For these purposes being introduced by the gods into this city (the world), and it being now your duty to undertake the work of a man, do you still want nurses also and a mamma, and do foolish women by their weeping move you and make you effeminate? Will you thus never cease to be a foolish child? know you not that he who does the acts of a child, the older he is, the more ridiculous he is?
