5. But, O man! consider first what it is you are about to do, and then inquire of your own nature whether you can carry it out. Will you be a pentathlos,[3] or a wrestler? Then, scan your arms and thighs; try your loins. For different men are made for different ends. 6. Think you, you can be a sage, and continue to eat and drink and be wrathful and take offense just as you were wont? Nay, but you must watch and labor, and withdraw yourself from your household, and be despised by any serving boy, and be ridiculed by your neighbors, and take the lower place everywhere, in honors, in authority, in courts of justice, in dealings of every kind.[4] 7. Consider these things—whether you are willing at such a price to gain peace, freedom, and an untroubled spirit. And if not, then attempt it not, nor, like a child, play now the philosopher, then the tax-gatherer, then the orator, then the Procurator of Cæsar. For these things agree not among themselves; and, good or bad, it behooves you to be one man. You should be perfecting either your own ruling faculty, or your outward well-being; spending your art either on the life within or the life without; that is to say, you must hold your place either among the sages or the vulgar. END OF BOOK II. _BOOK III._ CHAPTER I. OBLIGATIONS. 1. Obligations are universally defined by the bonds of relation. Is such a man your father? Then it is implied that you are to take care of him, to give place to him in all things, to bear his rebukes, his chastisement. _But if he be a bad father?_ Were you then related by any law of Nature to a good father? Nay, but simply to a father. Your brother does you wrong. Then guard your own place towards him, nor scrutinize what he is doing, but what you may do to keep your will in accord with Nature. For none other shall hurt you, if yourself choose it not, but you shall be hurt then when you conceive yourself to be so. 2. Thus shall you discover your obligations from the offices of a neighbor, a citizen, a general, if you will accustom yourself to watch the relationships. CHAPTER II. AGAINST EPICURUS. 1. Even Epicurus is conscious that we are by nature social, but having once placed the Good in the husk,[1] he cannot thereafter speak anything but what agrees with this; for again he affirms, and rightly affirms, that nothing is to be admired or received that is separated from the nature of the Good. How, then, Epicurus, do you suspect that we are social, if Nature had given us no affection for our offspring?[2] Wherefore do you counsel the sage against bringing up children? Why do you fear lest he fall into sorrow by so doing? Doth he fall into sorrow for the mouse that lives in his house? What careth he if a little mouse complain to him at home. But he knows well that if a little child be born, it is no longer in our power not to love it and be anxious for it.