f a thing, but
who cares about his own energy. What man, when he is walking about,
cares for his own energy? Who, when he is deliberating, cares about his
own deliberation, and not about obtaining that about which he
deliberates? And if he succeeds, he is elated and says, How well we have
deliberated; did I not tell you, brother, that it is impossible, when we
have thought about anything, that it should not turn out thus? But if
the thing should turn out otherwise, the wretched man is humbled; he
knows not even what to say about what has taken place. Who among us for
the sake of this matter has consulted a seer? Who among us as to his
actions has not slept in indifference? Who? Give (name) to me one that I
may see the man whom I have long been looking for, who is truly noble
and ingenuous, whether young or old; name him.

What then are the things which are heavy on us and disturb us? What else
than opinions? What else than opinions lies heavy upon him who goes away
and leaves his companions and friends and places and habits of life? Now
little children, for instance, when they cry on the nurse leaving them
for a short time, forget their sorrow if they receive a small cake. Do
you choose then that we should compare you to little children? No, by
Zeus, for I do not wish to be pacified by a small cake, but by right
opinions. And what are these? Such as a man ought to study all day, and
not to be affected by anything that is not his own, neither by companion
nor place nor gymnasia, and not even by his own body, but to remember
the law and to have it before his eyes. And what is the divine law? To
keep a man's own, not to claim that which belongs to others, but to use
what is given, and when it is not given, not to desire it; and when a
thing is taken away, to give it up readily and immediately, and to be
thankful for the time that a man has had the use of it, if you would not
cry for your nurse and mamma. For what matter does it make by what thing
a man is subdued, and on what he depends? In what respect are you better
than he who cries for a girl, if you grieve for a little gymnasium, and
little porticos, and young men, and such places of amusement? Another
comes and laments that he shall no longer drink the water of Dirce. Is
the Marcian water worse than that of Dirce? But I was used to the water
of Dirce. And you in turn will be used to the other. Then if you become
attached to this also, cry for this too, and try to make