Discourses - Book IV   

yourself, to keep your desire steadily fixed to the things which do
concern yourself, and turned from the things which do not concern
yourself; do you still fear any man? "No one." For about what will you
be afraid? about the things which are your own, in which consists
the nature of good and evil? and who has power over these things?
who can take them away? who can impede them? No man can, no more
than he can impede God. But will you be afraid about your body and
your possessions, about things which are not yours, about things which
in no way concern you? and what else have you been studying from the
beginning than to distinguish between your own and not your own, the
things which are in your power and not in your power, the things
subject to hindrance and not subject? and why have you come to the
philosophers? was it that you may nevertheless be unfortunate and
unhappy? You will then in this way, as I have supposed you to have
done, be without fear and disturbance. And what is grief to you? for
fear comes from what you expect, but grief from that which is present.
But what further will you desire? For of the things which are within
the power of the will, as being good and present, you have a proper
and regulated desire: but of the things which are not in the power
of the will you do not desire any one, and so you do not allow any
place to that which is irrational, and impatient, and above measure
hasty.
When, then, you are thus affected toward things, what man can any
longer be formidable to you? For what has a man which is formidable to
another, either when you see him or speak to him or, finally, are
conversant with him? Not more than one horse has with respect to
another, or one dog to another, or one bee to another bee. Things,
indeed, are formidable to every man; and when any man is able to
confer these things on another or to take them away, then he too
becomes formidable. How then is an acropolis demolished? Not by the
sword, not by fire, but by opinion. For if we abolish the acropolis
which is in the city, can we abolish also that of fever, and that of
beautiful women? Can we, in a word, abolish the acropolis which is
in us and cast out the tyrants within us, whom we have dally over
us, sometimes the same tyrants, at other times different tyrants?
But with this we must begin, and with this we must demolish the
acropolis and eject the tyrants, by giving up the body, the parts of
it, the faculties of it, the possessions, the reputation,
magisterial offices, honours, children, brothers, friends, by
considering all these things as belonging to others. And if tyrants
have been ejected from us, why do I still shut in the acropolis by a
wall of circumvallation, at least on my account; for if it still
stands, what does it do to me? why do I still eject guards? For
where do I perceive them? against others they have their fasces, and
their spears, and their swords. But I have never been hindered in my
will, nor compelled when I did not will. And how is this possible? I
have placed my movements toward action in obedience to God. Is it
His will that I shall have fever? It is my will also. Is it His will
that I should move toward anything? It is my will also. Is it His will
that I should obtain anything? It is my wish also. Does He not will? I