Discourses 3.19

The first difference between a layman and a philosopher: The one says, "Woe is me because of my child, my brother, woe because of my father"; and the other, if he can ever be compelled to say, "Woe is me," adds, after a pause, "because of myself." For nothing outside the sphere of the moral purpose can hamper or injure the moral purpose; it alone can hamper or injure itself. If, then, we too tend in this latter direction so that, whenever we go amiss, we blame ourselves, and bear in mind that nothing but judgement is responsible for the disturbance of our peace of mind and our inconstancy, I swear to you by all the gods that we have been making progress. But as it is, we have taken a different course from the start. Even while we were still children, our nurse, if ever we bumped into something, when we were going along with our mouths open, did not scold us, but used to beat the stone. Why, what did the stone do? Ought it to have moved out of the road because of your childish folly? And again, if we when children don't find something to eat after our bath, our attendant never checks our appetite, but he cudgels the cook. Man, we didn't make you the cook's attendant, did we? but our child's. Correct him, help him. So, even when we have grown up, we look like children. For it is being a child to be unmusical in things musical, to he unlettered in things literary, to be uneducated in life.

Epictetus, Discourses 3.19, translated by W. A. Oldfather

The first difference between a common person (ἰδιώτης) and a philosopher is this: the common person says, Woe to me for my little child, for my brother, for my father. The philosopher, if he shall ever be compelled to say, Woe to me, stops and says, 'but for myself.' For nothing which is independent of the will can hinder or damage the will, and the will can only hinder or damage itself. If then we ourselves incline in this direction, so as, when we are unlucky, to blame ourselves and to remember that nothing else is the cause of perturbation or loss of tranquillity except our own opinion, I swear to you by all the gods that we have made progress. But in the present state of affairs we have gone another way from the beginning. For example, while we were still children, the nurse, if we ever stumbled through want of care, did not chide us, but would beat the stone. But what did the stone do? Ought the stone to have moved on account of your child's folly? Again, if we find nothing to eat on coming out of the bath, the paedagogue never checks our appetite, but he flogs the cook. Man, did we make you the paedagogue of the cook and not of the child? Correct the child, improve him. In this way even when we are grown up we are like children. For he who is unmusical is a child in music; he who is without letters is a child in learning: he who is untaught, is a child in life.

Epictetus, Discourses 3.19, translated by George Long

The first difference between the philosopher and the uneducated man is that the latter says, 'Woe is me for my child, for my brother, woe is me for my father', and the other, if he is compelled to speak, considers the matter and says, Woe is me for myself.' For nothing outside the will can hinder or harm the will; it can only harm itself. If then we accept this, and, when things go amiss, are inclined to blame ourselves, remembering that judgement alone can disturb our peace and constancy, I swear to you by all the gods that we have made progress.

Instead of this we have come the wrong way from the beginning. When we were still children, if we stumbled when we were star-gazing, the nurse, instead of rebuking us, struck the stone. What is wrong with the stone? Was it to move out of the way because of your child's folly? Again, if (when children) we do not find something to eat after our bath our attendant does not check our appetite, but flogs the cook. Man, did we appoint you to attend on the cook? No, on our child: correct him, do him good. So even when we are grown up we appear like children: for it is being a child to be unmusical in musical things, ungrammatical in grammar, uneducated in life.

Epictetus, Discourses 3.19, translated by P. E. Matheson