Chapter 29

[29.1] In every undertaking, consider what comes before it and what follows it, and only then set your hand to it. Otherwise, you will approach it eagerly at first, because you have given no thought to what comes afterward; but later, when difficulties appear, you will shamefully abandon it. Do you wish to win at Olympia?

[29.2] So do I, by the gods; for it is a splendid thing. But consider what comes before it and what follows it, and only then undertake the task. You must submit to discipline, eat according to strict rules, abstain from cakes, exercise under compulsion at an appointed hour, in heat and in cold, drink no cold water and no wine whenever you please; in short, you must surrender yourself to your trainer as to a physician. Then, in the contest, you may be gashed, sometimes have your hand dislocated, twist your ankle, swallow a great deal of dust, sometimes be whipped, and, after all this, be defeated.

[29.3] After considering all this, if you still wish it, proceed to become an athlete. Otherwise, you will behave like children, who at one moment play wrestlers, then gladiators, then blow trumpets, and then act tragedies. So you too will be an athlete now, then a gladiator, then an orator, then a philosopher, but nothing with your whole soul. Like an ape, you imitate every spectacle you see, and one thing after another takes your fancy. For you have approached nothing after careful consideration and a complete examination, but at random and from a listless desire.

[29.4] In the same way, some people, after seeing a philosopher and hearing someone speak as Euphrates speaks (though who can speak as he does?

[29.5] ), wish to practice philosophy themselves. Man, first consider what kind of undertaking it is; then examine your own nature to see whether you can bear it. Do you wish to be a pentathlete or a wrestler? Look at your arms, look at your thighs, examine your lower back.

[29.6] For different people are naturally suited to different things. Do you think that while doing these things you can eat as you do now, drink as you do now, and indulge the same desires and aversions? You must go without sleep, endure hardship, leave your own people, be despised by a little slave, be ridiculed by everyone you meet, and have the lesser share in everything—in honor, in office, in court, and in every petty affair.

[29.7] Consider these things. Decide whether you are willing to receive in exchange for them freedom from passion, freedom, and tranquility. If not, do not approach philosophy. Do not be like children: now a philosopher, later a tax collector, then an orator, and then Caesar’s procurator. These things do not agree with one another. You must be one person, either good or bad. You must cultivate either your own ruling faculty or external things; you must devote yourself either to what is within or to what is outside. That is, you must hold the station either of a philosopher or of an ordinary person.

[29.1] In every undertaking, consider what comes before it and what follows it, and only then proceed to it. Otherwise, you will approach it enthusiastically at first, because you have given no thought to what comes afterward; but later, when difficulties appear, you will abandon it disgracefully. Do you want to win at Olympia?

[29.2] By the gods, so do I, because it is a splendid thing. But consider what comes before it and what follows it, and only then take up the undertaking. You must submit to discipline, follow a strict diet, abstain from pastries, exercise under compulsion at an appointed time, in heat and in cold, drink no cold water and no wine whenever you please—in short, hand yourself over to your trainer as you would to a doctor. Then, in the contest, you must be gouged, sometimes have your hand dislocated, twist your ankle, swallow a great deal of sand, sometimes be whipped, and, after all that, be defeated.

[29.3] After considering all this, if you still want to, take up athletic training. Otherwise, you will behave like children, who now play at being wrestlers, then gladiators, then trumpet players, and then tragic actors. In the same way, you will now be an athlete, then a gladiator, then an orator, then a philosopher, but nothing with your whole soul. Like a monkey, you imitate every spectacle you see, and one thing after another appeals to you. For you did not approach anything after careful consideration and examining it from every side, but at random and on the basis of a lukewarm desire.

[29.4] In this way, some people, after seeing a philosopher and hearing someone speak as Euphrates speaks—and yet who can speak as he does?—

[29.5] want to practice philosophy themselves. Man, first examine what the undertaking is like. Then also study your own nature to see whether you can bear it. Do you want to be a pentathlete or a wrestler? Look at your arms, examine your thighs, and study your lower back.

[29.6] For different people are naturally suited to different things. Do you think that if you do these things, you can continue to eat in the same way, drink in the same way, have the same desires, and feel the same dissatisfaction? You must go without sleep, work hard, leave your family, be treated with contempt by a little slave, be laughed at by everyone you meet, and receive less in everything—in honor, in public office, in court, and in every minor affair.

[29.7] Consider these things, and decide whether you are willing to receive in exchange for them freedom from passion, freedom, and tranquility. If not, do not approach philosophy. Do not be like children—now a philosopher, later a tax collector, then an orator, and then an imperial procurator. These things do not go together. You must be one person, either good or bad. You must devote yourself either to your own governing faculty or to external things, and direct your efforts either toward what is within or toward what is outside. That is, you must occupy either the position of a philosopher or that of an ordinary person.