_all_ the luxuries for which men long, and he must greatly diminish the
number of supposed necessaries. We have already seen some of the
arguments which point in this direction, and we may add another from the
third book of _Discourses_.

A certain magnificent orator, who was going to Rome on a lawsuit, had
called on Epictetus. The philosopher threw cold water on his visit,
because he did not believe in his sincerity. "You will get no more from
me," he said, "than you would get from any cobbler or greengrocer, for
you have only come because it happened to be convenient, and you will
only criticise my style, not really wishing to learn _principles_"
"Well, but," answered the orator, "if I attend to that sort of thing, I
shall be a mere pauper like you, with no plate, or equipage, or land."
"I don't _want_ such things," replied Epictetus; "and, besides, you are
poorer than I am, after all." "Why, how so?" "You have no constancy, no
unanimity with nature, no freedom from perturbations. Patron or no
patron, what care I? You _do_ care. I am richer than you. _I_ don't care
what Caesar thinks of me. _I_ flatter no one. This is what I have
instead of your silver and gold plate. You have _silver_ vessels, but
_earthenware_ reasons, principles, appetites. My mind to me a kingdom
is, and it furnishes me abundant and happy occupation in lieu of your
restless idleness. All your possessions seem small to you, mine seem
great to me. Your desire is insatiate, mine is satisfied." The
comparison with which he ends the discussion is very remarkable. I once
had the privilege of hearing Sir William Hooker explain to the late
Queen Adelaide the contents of the Kew Museum. Among them was a
cocoa-nut with a hole in it, and Sir William explained to the Queen that
in certain parts of India, when the natives want to catch the monkeys
they make holes in cocoa-nuts, and fill them with sugar. The monkeys
thrust in their hands and fill them with sugar; the aperture is too