Discourses and Enchiridion

We fail to make progress because we pay no heed to our natural will. Of course the man who is deceived or the man who does a wrong has no pain in his head or his eye or his hip, nor does he lose his estate; and these are the things we care for, nothing else. But we take no concern whatever whether our will is going to be kept honourable and trustworthy or shameless and faithless, except only so far as we discuss it in the lecture-room, and therefore so far as our wretched discussions go we make some progress, but beyond them not the least.

Plain English · paraphraseWe fail to make progress because we ignore our natural will. Of course, a man who is deceived or who does wrong does not have pain in his head or his eye or his hip, nor does he lose his estate; and these are the things we care about, nothing else. But we take no concern at all whether our will is going to be honorable and trustworthy or shameless and faithless, except only when we talk about it in the lecture room. And so far as our pitiful discussions go, we make some progress, but beyond them, not the least.

CHAPTER XI What is the beginning of philosophy.

Philosophy begins with a sense of one's weakness. The beginning of philosophy with those who approach it in the right way and by the door is a consciousness of one's own weakness and want of power in regard to necessary things. For we come into the world with no innate conception of a right-angled triangle, or of a quarter-tone or of a semi-tone, but we are taught what each of these means by systematic instruction; and therefore those who are ignorant of these things do not think that they know them. Men have innate conceptions of good and bad, happy and unhappy, but differ in applying them. On the other hand every one has come into the world with an innate conception as to good and bad, noble and shameful, becoming and unbecoming, happiness and unhappiness, fitting and inappropriate, what is right to do and what is wrong. Therefore we all use these terms and try to fit our preconceived notions to particular facts. 'He did nobly', 'dutifully', 'undutifully'. 'He was unfortunate', 'he was fortunate'; 'he is unjust', 'he is just.' Which of us refrains from these phrases? Which of us puts off using them until he is taught them, just as men who have no knowledge of lines or sounds refrain from talking of them? The reason is that on the subject in question we come into the world with a certain amount of teaching, so to say, already given us by nature; to this basis of knowledge we have added our own fancies.

Plain English · paraphrasePhilosophy begins with a sense of one's weakness. The beginning of philosophy for those who approach it correctly is a recognition of their own weakness and lack of power regarding necessary things. We are born without an innate understanding of a right-angled triangle, or of a quarter-tone or a semi-tone. We learn what each of these is through systematic instruction. Therefore, those who are ignorant of these things do not think they know them. People have innate ideas of good and bad, happy and unhappy, but differ in how they apply them. On the other hand, everyone is born with an innate understanding of good and bad, noble and shameful, becoming and unbecoming, happiness and unhappiness, fitting and inappropriate, what is right to do and what is wrong. Therefore, we all use these terms and try to fit our preconceived notions to particular facts. "He did nobly," "dutifully," "undutifully." "He was unfortunate," "he was fortunate"; "he is unjust," "he is just." Which of us refrains from these phrases? Which of us waits to use them until we are taught them, just as people who have no knowledge of lines or sounds refrain from talking about them? The reason is that regarding this subject, we are born with a certain amount of teaching already given us by nature; to this basis of knowledge we have added our own fancies.

'Why!' says he; 'do I not know what is noble and what is shameful? Have I no conception of them?' You have. 'Do I not fit my conception to particulars?' You do. 'Do I not fit them well then?' There lies the whole question and there fancy comes in. For, starting with these admitted principles, men advance to the matter in dispute, applying these principles inappropriately. For if they really possessed this faculty as well, what would prevent them from being perfect? You think that you apply your preconceptions properly to particular cases; but tell me, how do you arrive at this? I have such a conviction. But another has a different conviction, has he not, and yet believes. as you do, that he is applying his conception rightly? He does. How can we get beyond these differences? Is it possible then for you both to apply your conceptions properly in matters on which you hold contrary opinion? It is impossible. Can you then point us to anything beyond your own opinion which will enable us to apply our conceptions better? Does the madman do anything else but what he thinks right? Is this criterion then sufficient for him too? It is not. Come, then, let us look for something beyond personal opinion. Where shall we find it?

Philosophy is an attempt to find a standard Here you see the beginning of philosophy, in the discovery of the conflict of men's minds with one another, and the attempt to seek for the reason of this conflict, and the condemnation of mere opinion, as a thing not to be trusted; and a search to determine whether your opinion is true, and an attempt to discover a standard, just as we discover the balance to deal with weights and the rule to deal with things straight and crooked. This is the beginning of philosophy. which shall go beyond personal opinion and give us principles which we can apply with confidence.'Are all opinions right which all men hold?' Nay, how is it possible for contraries to be both right? 'Well, then, not all opinions, but our opinions?' Why ours, rather than those of the Syrians or the Egyptians, or the personal opinion of myself or of this man or that? 'Why indeed?'

So then, what each man thinks is not sufficient to make a thing so: for in dealing with weights and measures we are not satisfied with mere appearance, but have found a standard to determine each. Is there, then, no standard here beyond opinion? It is impossible surely that things most necessary among men should be beyond discovery and beyond proof? There is a standard then. Then, why do we not seek it and find it, and having found it use it hereafter without fail, never so much as 'stretching out our finger' without it? For it is this standard, I suppose, the discovery of which relieves from madness those who wrongly use personal opinion as their only measure, and enables us thereafter to start from known principles, clearly defined, and so to apply our conceptions to particulars in definite and articulate form. What subject, I might ask, lies before us for our present discussion? 'Pleasure.' Submit it to the rule, put it in the balance. Ought the good to be something which is worthy to inspire confidence and trust? 'It ought.' Is it proper to have confidence in anything which is insecure? 'No.' Has pleasure, then, any certainty in it? 'No.'

Away with it then! Cast it from the scales and drive it far away from the region of good things. But if your sight is not keen, and you are not satisfied with one set of scales, try another. Is it proper to be elated at what is good? 'It is.' Is it proper, then, to be elated at the pleasure of the moment? Be careful how you say that it is proper. If you do, I shall not count you worthy of the scales. Thus things are judged and weighed if we have standards ready to test them: and in fact the work of philosophy is to investigate and firmly establish such standards; and the duty of the good man is to proceed to apply the decisions arrived at.

Plain English · paraphraseGet rid of it then! Throw it out of the scales and push it far from the realm of good things. But if your vision is not sharp, and you aren't satisfied with one set of scales, try another. Is it right to be happy about what is good? "Yes, it is." Is it then right to be happy about the pleasure of the moment? Be careful how you say it is right. If you do say it is, I will not consider you worthy of the scales. This is how things are judged and weighed if we have standards ready to test them. In fact, the job of philosophy is to examine and firmly set such standards; and the task of the good person is to put these decisions into practice.

CHAPTER XII On the art of discussion. We have how to not learnt argue, and to make the most so we fail of those we argue with. Our philosophers have precisely defined what a man must learn in order to know how to argue: but we are still quite unpractised in the proper use of what we have learnt. Give any one of us you like an unskilled person to argue with, and he does not discover how to deal with him: he just rouses the man for a moment, and then if he answers him in the wrong key he cannot deal with him any longer: he either reviles him or laughs at him ever after, and says, 'He is an ignoramus, there is nothing to be got out of him.' But the true guide, when he finds a man wandering, leads him to the right road, instead of leaving him with a gibe or an insult. So should you do. Only show him the truth and you will see that he follows. But so long as you do not show it him, do not laugh at him, but rather realize your own incapacity.

Socrates' method was the right one, to use only the witness of his interlocutor. Now how did Socrates proceed? He compelled the man who was conversing with him to be his witness, and needed no witness besides. Therefore he was able to say: 'I am satisfied with my opponent as a witness, and let every one else alone: and I do not take the votes of other people, but only of him who is arguing with me.' For he drew out so clearly the consequences of a man's conceptions that every one realized the contradiction and abandoned it. 'Does the man who envies rejoice in his envy?' 'Not at all; he is pained rather than pleased.' Thus he rouses his neighbour by contradiction. 'Well, does envy seem to you to be a feeling of pain at evil things? Yet how can there be envy of things evil?' So he makes his opponent say that envy is pain felt at good things. 'Again, can a man envy things which do not concern him?' 'Certainly not.'

In this way he made the conception full and articulate, and so went away. He did not say, 'Define me envy', and then, when the man defined it, 'You define it ill, for the terms of the definition do not correspond to the subject defined.' Most of us use technical phrases, and failing, give up in despair. Such phrases are technical and therefore tiresome to the lay mind, and hard to follow, yet you and I cannot get away from them. We are quite unable to rouse the ordinary man's attention in a way which will enable him to follow his own impressions and so arrive at admitting or rejecting this or that. And therefore those of us who are at all cautious naturally give the subject up, when we become aware of this incapacity; while the mass of men, who venture at random into this sort of enterprise, muddle others and get muddled themselves, and end by abusing their opponents and getting abused in return, and so leave the field. His good temper made him a peacemaker. But the first quality of all in Socrates, and the most characteristic, was that he never lost his temper in argument, never uttered anything abusive, never anything insolent, but bore with abuse from others and quieted strife. If you would get to know what a faculty he had in this matter, read the Banquet of Xenophon and you will see how many strifes he has brought to an end. Therefore the poets too with good reason have praised this gift most highly:

Plain English · paraphraseHe made the idea complete and clear, then left. He did not say, "Define envy for me," and then, when the man did so, say, "You defined it poorly, because the definition does not match the subject." Most of us use technical terms, and when that fails, we give up in frustration. These terms are technical, so they are tiring for the average mind and hard to follow. Yet you and I cannot avoid them. We are completely unable to get the average person's attention in a way that lets him follow his own thoughts and thus accept or reject something. Because of this, those of us who are cautious naturally give up when we realize this inability. Meanwhile, most people, who jump into such matters without care, confuse others and confuse themselves, and end up insulting their opponents and being insulted in return, then leave the discussion. His good temper made him a peacemaker. But the most important quality in Socrates, and the one most characteristic of him, was that he never lost his temper in an argument, never said anything insulting, never anything arrogant, but endured insults from others and calmed conflicts. If you want to understand how skilled he was in this, read Xenophon's Banquet and you will see how many arguments he ended. Therefore, the poets too, with good reason, have praised this ability most highly:

And straightway with skill he brought to rest a mighty quarrel. But philosophic discussion is not easy, especially in Rome. What follows? The occupation is not a very safe one nowadays, and especially in Rome. For he who pursues it will certainly not have to do it in a corner, but he must go up to a consular or a rich man, if it so chance, and ask him: 'You there, can you tell me to whose care you trust your horses?' 'Yes.' Do you trust them to a chance comer and one unskilled in horse-keeping? 'Certainly not.' Again, tell me to whom you trust your gold or your silver or your clothes. 'Not to a chance comer either.' And your body—have you ever thought of trusting that to anybody to look after it? 'Certainly.' He too, no doubt, is one skilled in the art of training or of medicine, is he not? 'Certainly he is.' Are these then your best possessions or have you got something besides, better than all? 'What can you mean?' I mean, of course, that which makes use of all these possessions and tests each one, and thinks about them. 'Do you mean the soul?' You are right; that is exactly what I do mean.

'Yes, I certainly think that this is a better possession than all the rest.' Can you tell me, then, in what manner you have taken care of your soul? for it is not likely that one so wise as you. and of such position in the state, should lightly and recklessly allow the best possession you have to be neglected and go to ruin. 'Certainly not.' Well, have you taken care of it yourself? Did any one teach you how, or did you find out for yourself? When you do this, the danger is, you will find, that first he will say: 'My good sir, what concern is it of yours? Are you my master?' Then, if you persist in annoying him he will lift his hand and give you a drubbing. That (says Epictetus) was a pursuit I had a keen taste for once, before I was reduced to my present condition.

Plain English · paraphrase"I certainly think this is a better possession than all the rest." So tell me, then, in what way have you taken care of your soul? It doesn't seem likely that someone as wise as you, and in your position in the state, would carelessly allow your best possession to be neglected and ruined. "Certainly not." Well, have you taken care of it yourself? Did someone teach you how, or did you figure it out on your own? When you do this, you will find that first he will say, "My good sir, what business is it of yours? Are you my master?" And if you keep bothering him, he will lift his hand and give you a beating. That, says Epictetus, was a pursuit I had a strong interest in once, before I was brought to my present condition.

CHAPTER XIII Concerning anxiety. Anxiety implies desire for something not in one's power. When I see a man in a state of anxiety, I say, 'What can this man want? If he did not want something which is not in his power, how could he still be anxious? It is for this reason that one who sings to the lyre is not anxious when he is performing by himself, but when he enters the theatre, even if he has a very good voice and plays well: for he not only wants to perform well, but also to win a great name, and that is beyond his own control.

Plain English · paraphraseCHAPTER XIII Concerning anxiety. Anxiety means wanting something that is not under your control. When I see someone anxious, I say, "What does this person want? If he did not want something that is not in his power, how could he still be anxious? For this reason, a man who sings with the lyre is not anxious when he performs alone, but when he enters the theatre, even if he has a very good voice and plays well: for he not only wants to perform well, but also to win a great name, and that is beyond his own control.

In fact, where he has knowledge there he has confidence. Bring in any unskilled person you like, and he pays no heed to him. On the other hand he is anxious whenever he has no knowledge and has made no study of the subject. What does this mean? He does not know what 'the people' is, nor what its praise is worth: he has learnt to strike the bottom note or the top note, but he does not know what the praise of the multitude is, nor what value it has in life; he has made no study of that. To tremble before the people means ignorance. So he is bound to tremble and grow pale.

When I see a man, then, in this state of fear I cannot say that he is no performer with the lyre, but I can say something else of him, and not one thing but many. And first of all I call him a stranger and say, This man does not know where in the world he is; though he has been with us so long, he does not know the laws and customs of the City—what he may do and what he may not do—no, nor has he called in a lawyer at any time to tell him and explain to him what are the requirements of the law. Of course he does not draw up a will without knowing how he ought to draw it up, or without calling in one who knows, nor does he lightly put his seal to a guarantee or give a written security; but he calls in no lawyer when he is exercising the will to get and will to avoid, impulse and intention and purpose. What do I mean by 'having no lawyer'? I mean that he does not know that he is wishing to have what is not given him, and wishing not to have what he cannot avoid, and he does not know what is his own and what is not his own. If he did know, he would never feel hindrance or constraint or anxiety; how could he? Does any one fear about things which are not evil?

'No.' Or again about things which are evil but are in his power to prevent? 'Certainly not.' If we know what is in our power and what is not we need never be anxious. If, then, nothing beyond our will's control is either good or evil, and everything within our will's control depends entirely on ourselves, so that no one can take any such thing away from us or win it for us against our will, what room is left for anxiety? Yet we are anxious for our bit of a body, for our bit of property, for what Caesar will think, but are not anxious at all for what is within us. Am I anxious about not conceiving a false thought? No, for that depends on myself. Or about indulging an impulse contrary to nature? No, not about this either. So, when you see a man pale, just as the physician, judging from his colour, says, 'This man's spleen is out of order, or that man's liver', so do you say, 'This man is disordered in the will to get and the will to avoid, he is not in the right way, he is feverish'; for nothing else changes the complexion and causes a man to tremble and his teeth to chatter,

and droop the knee and sink upon his feet. That is why Zeno was calm when he met Antigonus. Therefore Zeno was not distressed when he was going to meet Antigonus, for Antigonus had no authority over any of the things that Zeno admired, and Zeno paid no attention to the possessions of Antigonus. Antigonus was anxious when he was going to meet Zeno, and with good reason, for he wanted to please him, and this lay beyond his control; but Zeno did not wish to please Antigonus, any more than any artist cares to please one who has no skill. To depend on the pleasure of another is to admit a master. Do I want to please you? Why should I? Do you know the standards by which man judges man? Have you made it your study to learn what a good man is and what a bad man is, and what makes each of them so? Why, then, are you not good yourself? 'Not good? What do you mean?' he replies. Why, no good man whines or groans or laments, no good man grows pale or trembles or says, 'How will he receive me? What hearing will he give me?'

Slave, he will do as he thinks good. What concern have you in what does not belong to you? Is it not his fault if he gives a bad reception to what you offer? 'His fault, certainly.' But can the fault be one man's and the harm another's? 'No.' Why, then, are you anxious about another's concerns? 'Nay, but I am anxious to know how I am to address him.' What, is it not in your power to address him as you will? 'Yes, but I am afraid I may lose my self-possession.' Are you afraid of losing your self-possession when you are going to write the name Dion? 'Certainly not.' What is the reason? Is it not, that you have practised writing? Of course it is. Or again, when you are about to read, would you not be in like case? 'Exactly.'

Plain English · paraphraseSlave, he will do what he thinks is right. What is it to you if it does not belong to you? If he gives a bad reception to what you offer, is that not his fault? "Yes, his fault." But can one man's fault cause harm to another? "No." Then why are you worried about another's matters? "No, but I worry about how I should speak to him." Is it not in your power to speak to him as you choose? "Yes, but I fear I might lose my composure." Are you afraid of losing your composure when you are going to write the name Dion? "Certainly not." Why not? Is it not because you have practiced writing? Of course. Or again, when you are about to read, would you not be in the same situation? "Exactly."

Art or skill means confidence. If you surrender this you are a slave, What is the reason? The reason is that every art contains within it an element of strength and confidence. Have you not practised speaking, then? What else did you study at school? You studied syllogisms and variable arguments. What for? Was it not that .you might converse with skill, and does not 'with skill' mean in good season, with security and good sense, and, more than that, without failure or hindrance, and, to crown all, with confidence? 'Yes.' Well, if you are a rider and have to confront a man on foot in the plain, where you have the advantage of practice and he has not, are you anxious? 'Nay, but he has power to put me to death.' Miserable man, tell the truth and be not a braggart nor claim to be a philosopher. Know who are your masters. and must go back to your corner. As long as you give them this hold over your body, you must follow every one who is stronger than you.

Plain English · paraphraseSkill means confidence. If you give this up, you become a slave. Why? Because every skill includes strength and confidence. Did you not practice speaking? What else did you study at school? You studied syllogisms and changing arguments. Why? Was it not so you could speak skillfully? And does "skillfully" not mean speaking at the right time, with safety and good sense, and more than that, without failure or hindrance, and finally, with confidence? "Yes." Well, if you are a rider and must face a man on foot in the open, where you have the advantage of training and he does not, are you nervous? "No, but he can kill me." Poor man, tell the truth. Do not brag or pretend to be a philosopher. Know who your masters are and must return to your place. As long as you let them have power over your body, you must follow anyone stronger than you.

But Socrates, who spoke to the Tyrants, to his judges, and in prison, in the tone we know, had studied speaking to some purpose. So had Diogenes, who spoke in the same tone to Alexander, to Philip, to the pirates, to his purchaser. . . . Leave this to those who have made it their concern, to the confident: and do you go to your own concerns and never leave them again. Go and sit in your corner and weave syllogisms and propound them to others, No ruler of a state is found in you.

CHAPTER XIV. On Naso. The process of teaching philosophy, like that of other arts, is tiresome. Once when a Roman came in with his son and was listening to one of his lectures Epictetus said: 'This is the method of my teaching', and broke off short. And when the Roman begged him to continue, he replied:—Every art, when it is being taught, is tiresome to one who is unskilled and untried in it. The products of the arts indeed show at once the use they are made for, and most of them have an attraction and charm of their own; for though it is no pleasure to be present and follow the process by which a shoemaker learns his art, the shoe itself is useful and a pleasant thing to look at as well. So too the process by which a carpenter learns is very tiresome to the unskilled person who happens to be by, but his work shows the use of his art. This you will see still more in the case of music, for if you are by when a man is being taught you will think the process of all things the most unpleasant, yet the effects of music are pleasant and delightful for unmusical persons to hear.

The philosopher's aim is to bring his will into harmony with events. So with philosophy; we picture to ourselves the work of the philosopher to be something of this sort: he must bring his own will into harmony with events, in such manner that nothing which happens should happen against our will, and that we should not wish for anything to happen that does not happen. The result of this is that those who have thus ordered their life do not fail to get what they will, and do not fall into what they will to avoid: each man spends his own life free from pain, from fear, and from distraction, and maintains the natural and acquired relations which unite him to his fellows—the part of son, father, brother, citizen, husband, wife, neighbour, fellow traveller, ruler, subject.

To achieve this he must learn that God is, and try to make himself like Him. Such is the business of the philosopher as we picture it. The next thing is that we seek how we are to achieve it. Now we see that the carpenter becomes a carpenter by learning certain things, the helmsman becomes a helmsman by learning certain things. May we, then, infer that in the sphere of conduct too it is not enough merely to wish to become good, but one must learn certain things? We have, then, to look and see what these things are. The philosophers say that the first thing one must learn is this: 'that God exists and provides for the universe, and it is impossible for a man to act or even to conceive a thought or reflection without God knowing. The next thing is to learn the true nature of the gods. For whatever their nature is discovered to be, he that is to please and obey them must needs try, so far as he can, to make himself like them.' If God is faithful, he must be faithful too; if free, he must be free too; if beneficent, he too must be beneficent: if high-minded, he must be high-minded: he must, in fact, as one who makes God his ideal, follow this out in every act and word.

As a first step, it is necessary to understand terms. 'At what point, then, must we begin?' If you attempt this task, I will tell you, that you must first understand terms. 'What? Do you imply that I do not understand terms now?' You do not. 'How then do I use them?' You use them as illiterate persons deal with written sounds, as cattle deal with impressions: for it is one thing to use them, and another to understand. If you think you understand them, let us take any term you like and put ourselves to the test, to see if we understand. No doubt an old man of good position dislikes being told of his ignorance,'But it is vexatious when one is getting old, and has served, if it so chance, one's three campaigns, to be put through an examination.'