HOW WE SHOULD THINK AS GOD'S OFFSPRING.
1. If those things are true which are said by philosophers concerning
the kinship of God and men, what else remains for men to do than after
Socrates' way, who never, when men inquired of him what was his native
country, replied _Athens_ or _Corinth_, but _the universe_. For why wilt
thou say thou art an Athenian, and not rather name thyself from that
nook alone into which thy wretched body was cast at birth? Is it not
plainly from the lordlier place, and that which contains not only that
nook and all thy household, but also the whole land whence the race of
thy ancestors has come down even to thee, that thou callest thyself
Athenian or Corinthian? Whoso, therefore, hath watched the governance of
the universe, and hath learned that the greatest and mightiest and
amplest of all societies is that which is composed of mankind and of
God; and that from Him have descended the seeds not only to my father
alone, nor to my grandfather, but to all creatures that are conceived
and born upon the earth (but especially to reasoning beings, since to
these alone hath nature given it to have communion and intercourse with
God, being linked with Him through Reason),--wherefore should such a one
not name himself a citizen of the universe? wherefore not a son of God?
wherefore shall he fear anything that may come to pass among men? And
shall kinship with Cæsar, or with some other of those that are mighty at
Rome, be enough to let us live in safety and undespised and fearing
nothing at all; but to have God for our maker and father and guardian,
shall this not avail to deliver us from griefs and fears?
_But I have no money_, saith one; _whence shall I have bread to eat?_
2. Art thou not ashamed to be more cowardly and spiritless than fugitive
slaves are? How do they leave their masters when they run away? in what
estates do they put their trust? in what servants? After stealing a
little to serve them for the first few days, do they not afterwards
journey by land and sea, and make their living by one device after
another? And when did ever any fugitive slave die of hunger? But thou
tremblest and sleepest not of nights, for fear lest the necessaries of
life fail thee. Wretched man! art thou thus blind? and seest not the
road whither the want of necessaries leads a man? And whither leads it?
To the same place that a fever doth, or a falling rock--to death. Hast
thou not often said this to thy friends? and often read aloud these
things, and written them? and how often hast thou vaunted thyself that
thou wert at peace about death? _Yea, but my dear ones shall also suffer
hunger._ What then? Doth their hunger lead to any other place than
thine? Do they not descend where thou descendest? Is there not one
underworld for them and thee? Wilt thou not, then, be bold in all
poverty and need, looking to that place whither the wealthiest of men,
and the mightiest governors, yea, and even kings and tyrants, must go
down; thou, it may be, an-hungered, and they bursting with indigestion
and drunkenness?
How seldom is it that a beggar is seen that is not an old man, and even
of exceeding age? but freezing by night and day, and lying on the
ground, and eating only what is barely necessary, they come near to
being unable to die. Canst thou not transcribe writings? canst thou not
teach children? or be some man's door-keeper?
_But it is shameful to come to such a necessity!_
Then first of all learn what things are shameful, and afterwards tell
us thou art a philosopher. But at present suffer not even another man to
call thee so.
3. Is that shameful to thee which is not thine own doing, whereof thou
art not the cause, which cometh to thee without thy will, like a
headache or a fever? If thy parents were poor, or made others their
heirs, or are alive and give thee nothing, are these things shameful to
thee? Is this what thou hast learnt from the philosophers? Hast thou
never heard that what is shameful is blamable; and that which is
blamable ought to be blamed? But what man wilt thou blame for a work not
his own, one that he himself never did! And didst thou make thy father
such as he is? or was it in thy power to correct him?--is it given thee
to do this? What then? Oughtest thou to desire what is not given to
thee? or to be ashamed if thou attain it not? Or hast thou been
accustomed, in philosophy, to look to others, and to hope for nothing
from thyself? Lament, therefore, and groan, and eat thy bread in fear,
lest thou have nothing to eat on the morrow. Tremble for thy slaves,
lest they steal, or run away, or die. Do thou live thus, now and ever,
who hast approached to the name only of philosophy, and hast brought the
precepts of it to shame, so far as in thee lies, showing them to be
worthless and useless to those who adopt them; thou, who hast never
striven to gain steadfastness, tranquillity, peace; that never waited
upon any man for the sake of these things, but upon many for the sake of
learning syllogisms; that never tested for thine own self any one of
these appearances:--_Am I able to bear it, or am I not able? What, then,
remains for me to do?_ But, as though all went fairly and safely with
thee, thou abidest in the final part of philosophy,[1] that which
confirms beyond all change--and wherein wilt thou be confirmed? in
cowardice, meanness, admiration of wealth, in vain pursuit, and vain
efforts to avoid? These are the things thou dost meditate how to
preserve unharmed.
4. Shouldst thou not first have gained something from Reason, and then
fortified this with safety? Whom sawest thou ever building a coping
round about, and never a wall on which to place it? And what
door-keeper is set on guard where there is no door? But thy study is
how to prove propositions--and _what_ proposition? How the billows of
false reasonings may sweep thee not away--and away from _what_? Show me
first what thing thou art guarding, or measuring, or weighing; and
afterwards the scales or the measuring-rod. Or how long wilt thou still
be measuring the dust? Are not these the things it behooves thee to
prove:--what it is that makes men happy, what makes things proceed as we
would have them, how one should blame no man accuse no man, and fit
one's self to the ordering of the All? Yea, prove me these! _But I do
so_, he saith. _See! I resolve you syllogisms._ Slave! this is the
measuring-rod--it is not the thing measured. Wherefore now you pay the
penalty for philosophy neglected; you tremble, you lie awake at nights,
you seek counsel on every hand, and if the counsels are not pleasing to
all men you think they were ill-counseled.
5. Then you fear hunger, as you suppose. But it is not hunger that you
fear--you fear you will have no cook, nor nobody else to buy victuals
for you, nor another to take off your boots, nor another to put them on,
nor others to rub you down, nor others to follow you about, so that when
you have stripped yourself in the bath, and stretched yourself out as if
you were crucified, you may be rubbed to and fro, and then the rubber
standing by may say, _Turn him round, give me his side, take hold of his
head, let me have his shoulder_; and then when you leave the bath and go
home you may shout, _Is no one bringing anything to eat?_ and then,
_Take away the plates, and wipe them_. This is what you fear,--lest you
be not able to live like a sick man. But learn how those live that are
in health--slaves, and laborers, and true philosophers; how Socrates
lived, who moreover had a wife and children; how Diogenes lived; how
Cleanthes that studied in the schools and drew his own water.[2] If you
would have these things, they are everywhere to be had, and you will
live boldly. Bold in what? In that wherein alone it is possible to be
bold--in that which is faithful, which cannot be hindered, which cannot
be taken away. But why hast thou made thyself so worthless and useless
that no one is willing to receive thee into his house or take care of
thee? But if any utensil were thrown away, and it was sound and
serviceable, every one that found it would pick it up and think it a
gain; but thee no man would pick up, nor count anything but damage. So
thou canst not so much as serve the purpose of a watch-dog, or a cock?
Why, then, wilt thou still live, being such a man as thou art?
6. Doth any good man fear lest the means of gaining food fail him? They
fail not the blind, nor the lame; shall they fail a good man? To the
good soldier there fails not one who gives him pay, nor to the laborer,
nor to the shoemaker; and shall such a one fail to the good man? Is God,
then, careless of His instruments, His servants, His witnesses, whom
alone He useth to show forth to the untaught what He is, and that He
governs all things well, and is not careless of human things? and that
to a good man there is no evil, neither in life nor in death? _How,
then, when He leaves them without food?_ How else is this than as when a
good general gives me the signal for retreat? I obey, I follow, praising
my leader and hymning his works. For I came when it pleased him, and
when it pleases him I will go. In my lifetime also my work was to sing
the praise of God, both alone to myself, and to single persons, and in
presence of many. He doth not provide me with many things, nor with
great abundance of goods; He will not have me live delicately. For
neither did He provide so for Hercules, His own son, but another man
reigned over Argos and Mycenæ, while he obeyed and labored and was
disciplined. And Eurystheus was what he was--no king of Argos and
Mycenæ, who was not king even of himself; and Hercules was lord and
leader of all the earth and sea, for he purged them of lawlessness and
wrong, and brought in righteousness and holiness; naked and alone did he
this. And when Odysseus was shipwrecked and cast away, did his need
humble him one whit or break his spirit? But how did he go out to the
maidens, to beg for the necessaries of life, which it is held most
shameful to seek from another?
"Even as a lion from his mountain home,
So went Odysseus trusting in his valor."
--_Odyssey_, vi. 130.
Trusting in what? Not in fame, nor wealth, but in his own valor--that
is, his opinions of the things that are and are not in our power.[3] For
these alone it is that make men free and unhindered; that lift up the
heads of the abject, and bid them look rich men and tyrants steadily in
the face. And this was the gift of the philosopher; but thou wilt never
go forth boldly, but trembling for thy fine raiment and silver dishes.
Miserable man! hast thou indeed thus wasted all thy time till now?