Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcern'dly find

Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day.

Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; sweet recreation ;
And Innocence, which most does please
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

(Translation by C. Merivale.)

What makes the happiest life below,
A few plain rules, my friend, will show.
A good estate, not earn'd with toil,

But left by will, or giv'n by fate;
A land of no ungrateful soil,

A constant fire within your grate:

No laws; few cares; a quiet mind;
Strength unimpair'd, a healthful frame;
Wisdom with innocence combin'd;

Friends equal both in years and fame;

Your living easy, and your board
With food, but not with luxury stored;

A bed, though chaste, not solitary;

Sound sleep, to shorten night's dull reign; Wish nothing that is yours to vary;

Think all enjoyments that remain ; And for the inevitable hour,

Nor hope it nigh, nor dread its power.

EPICTETUS

(First century of the Christian era.)

DURING some considerable part of his life, Epictetus, the Stoic philosopher, was a slave. His master, Epaphroditus, had been himself a slave, had become a freedman, had risen to favor in the court of the emperor Nero, whom he served as librarian or secretary. "Epictetus was probably born in about the fiftieth year of the Christian era; but we do not know the exact date of his birth, nor do we even know his real name. 'Epictetus' means bought or acquired,' and is simply a servile designation. He was born at Hierapolis, in Phrygia. . . . What were the accidents or rather, what was • the unseen Providence, by man nicknamed chance' which assigned Epictetus to the house of Epaphroditus, we do not know. To a heart refined and noble there could hardly have been a more trying position. . slaves of a Roman familia were crowded together in immense gangs; they were liable to the most violent and capricious punishments; they might be subjected to the most degraded and brutalizing influences. . . . An anecdote has been handed down to us by several writers which would show that Epictetus was treated with atrocious cruelty. Epaphroditus, it is said, once gratified his cruelty by twisting his slave's leg in some instrument of torture. 'If you go on you will break it,' said Epictetus. The wretch did go on, and did break it. 'I told you that you would break it,' said Epictetus quietly, not giving vent to his anguish by a single word or a single groan. Another authority tells us that Epictetus became lame in consequence of a natural disease. . . . At some period of his life, but how or when we do not know, Epictetus was manumitted by his master, and was henceforward regarded by the world as free. We are told that he lived in a cottage of the simplest and even meanest description: it neither needed nor possessed a fasten

ing of any kind, for within it there was no furniture except a lamp and the poor straw pallet on which he slept. But, in spite of his deep poverty, it must not be supposed that there was anything eccentric or ostentatious in the life of Epictetus." Banished, with other philosophers, from Rome, by the emperor Domitian, he went to Nicopolis, in Epirus. "Whether he ever revisited Rome is uncertain, but it is probable that he did so, for we know that he enjoyed the friendship of several eminent philosophers and statesmen, and was esteemed and honored by the emperor Hadrian himself. He is said to have lived to a good old age, surrounded by affectionate and eager disciples, and to have died with the same noble simplicity which had marked his life. The date of his death is as little known as that of his birth. . . It is nearly certain that Epictetus never committed any of his doctrines to writing. Like his great exemplar, Socrates, he contented himself with oral instruction, and the bulk of what has come down to us in his name consists in the Discourses' reproduced for us by his pupil Arrian. It was the ambition of Arrian to be to Epictetus what Xenophon had been to Socrates.' .. With this view he wrote four books on Epictetus: a life, which is now unhappily lost; a book of conversations or 'table talk,' which is also lost; and two books which have come down to us, viz., the Discourses' and the Manual.' . . . The Manual' is a kind of abstract of Epictetus's ethical principles."-F. W. FARRAR, "Seekers after God."

6

It is from the "Manual " or "Enchiridion" of Epictetus that the subjoined precepts are selected.

SELECTIONS FROM THE PRECEPTS OF EPICTETUS. (From the "Works of Epictetus,” translated by Elizabeth Carter.)

Of Things, some are in our Power, and others not. In our Power are Opinion, Pursuit, Desire, Aversion, and, in one Word, whatever are our own Actions. Not in our Power, are Body, Property, Reputation, Command, and, in one Word, whatever are not our own Actions.

Now, the Things in our Power are, by Nature, free, unrestrained, unhindered; but those not in our Power, weak, slavish, restrained, belonging to others. Remember, then, that, if you suppose Things by Nature slavish, to be free; and what belongs to others, your own; you will be hindered; you will lament; you will be disturbed; you will find fault both with Gods and Men. But if you suppose that only to be your own which is your own; and what belongs to others, such as it really is; no one will ever compel you; no one will restrain you: you will find fault with no one; you will accuse no one; you will do no one Thing against your Will: no one will hurt you: you will not have an Enemy: for you will suffer no Harm.

Remember that Desire promises the Attainment of that of which you are desirous; and Aversion promises the Avoiding of that to which you are averse: that he who fails of the Object of his Desire, is disappointed: and he who incurs the Object of his Aversion, wretched. If then, you confine your Aversion to those Objects only which are contrary to that natural Use of your Faculties which you have in your own Power, you will never incur any thing to which you are averse. But if you are averse to Sickness, or Death, or Poverty, you will be wretched. Remove Aversion, then, from all Things that are not in our Power, and transfer it to Things contrary to the Nature of what is in our Power. But, for the present, totally suppress Desire; for if you desire any of the Things not in our own Power, you must necessarily be disappointed; and of those which are, and which it would be laudable to desire, nothing is yet in your Possession.

Men are disturbed, not by Things, but by the Principles and Notions which they form concerning Things. Death, for Instance, is not terrible, else it would have