Discourses and Enchiridion

If you want to hear, you must show your worth. Because you do not excite my interest. Is there anything in you to excite me as men who keep horses are excited at sight of a well-bred horse? Your poor body? You make an ugly figure. Your clothes? They are too luxurious. Your air, your countenance? There is nothing to see. When you wish to hear a philosopher, do not say to him, 'You say nothing to me,' but only show yourself worthy to hear and you will see how you will rouse him to discourse!

CHAPTER XXV How the art of reasoning is necessary. When one of his audience said, 'Convince me that logic is useful,' he said, Would you have me demonstrate it? 'Yes.' Well, then, must I not use a demonstrative argument? And, when the other agreed, he said, How then shall you know if I impose upon you? And when the man had no answer, he said, You see how you yourself admit that logic is necessary, if without it you are not even able to learn this much—whether it is necessary or not.

CHAPTER XXVI What is the distinctive character of error. Error arises from conflict. Every error implies conflict; for since he who errs does not wish to go wrong but to go right, plainly he is not doing what he wishes. For what does the thief wish to do? What is to his interest. If then thieving is against his interest, he is not doing what he wishes. But every rational soul by nature dislikes conflict; and so, as long as a man does not understand that he is in conflict, there is nothing to prevent him from doing conflicting acts, but, whenever he understands, strong necessity makes him abandon the conflict and avoid it, just as bitter necessity makes a man renounce a falsehood when he discovers it, though as long as he has not this impression he assents to it as true.

Plain English · paraphraseCHAPTER XXVI What is the distinctive character of error. Error comes from conflict. Every error means there is conflict; for since the one who makes a mistake does not want to be wrong but to be right, clearly he is not doing what he wants. For what does the thief want to do? What is in his interest. If then stealing is against his interest, he is not doing what he wants. But every rational soul naturally hates conflict; and so, as long as a man does not understand that he is in conflict, there is nothing to stop him from acting in conflict, but whenever he understands, strong necessity makes him give up the conflict and avoid it, just as bitter necessity makes a man give up a falsehood when he discovers it, though as long as he has not this impression he agrees with it as true.

You can only stop error by exposing the conflict. He then who can show to each man the conflict which causes his error, and can clearly bring home to him how he fails to do what he wishes and does what he does not wish, is powerful in argument and strong to encourage and convict. For if one shows this, a man will retire from his error of himself; but as long as you do not succeed in showing this, you need not wonder if he persists in his error, for he acts because he has an impression that he is right. That is why Socrates too, relying on this faculty, said, 'I am not wont to produce any other witness to support what I say, but am content with him to whom I am talking on each occasion; it is his vote that I take, his evidence that I call, and his sole word suffices instead of all.' For Socrates knew what moves the rational soul, and that it will incline to what moves it, whether it wishes to or not. Show the conflict to the rational Governing Principle and it will desist. If you do not show it, blame yourself rather than him who refuses to obey.

BOOK III CHAPTER I On Adornment. Beauty varies in different creatures: it consists in the fulfilment of their nature. When a young student of rhetoric came into his lecture-room with his hair elaborately arranged and paying great attention to his dress in general: Tell me, said he, do you not think that some dogs and horses are beautiful and some ugly, and is it not so with every creature? 'I think so', he said. Is not the same true of men, some are beautiful, some ugly? 'Certainly.' Now do we give the attribute 'beautiful' to each of them in their own kind on the same grounds or on special grounds in each case? Listen and you will see what I mean. Since we see that a dog is born for one thing and a horse for another, and a nightingale, if you like to take that, for another, speaking generally one would not be giving an absurd opinion in saying that each of them was beautiful when it best fulfilled its nature; and since the nature of each is different, I think that each of them would be beautiful in a different way, would it not? 'Yes.'

So that what makes a dog beautiful makes a horse ugly, and what makes a horse beautiful makes a dog ugly, seeing that their natures are different? 'So it seems.' Yes, for what makes a pancratiast beautiful does not, I imagine, make a good wrestler, and makes a very ridiculous runner; and one who is beautiful for the pentathlon makes a very ugly appearance as a wrestler? 'True', he said. What then makes a man beautiful if it is not that which in its kind makes dog and horse beautiful? 'It is just that', he said. What then makes a dog beautiful? The presence of a dog's virtue. What makes a horse beautiful? The presence of a horse's virtue. What makes a man beautiful? Is it the presence of a man's virtue? Therefore, to attain beauty, you must pursue human virtue. Therefore, young man, if you would be beautiful, make this the object of your effort, human virtue. And what is human virtue? Consider whom you praise, when you praise men dispassionately; do you praise the just or the unjust? 'The just.' Do you praise the temperate or the intemperate? 'The temperate.' The continent or the incontinent? 'The continent.'

Therefore if you make yourself such an one, be sure that you will make yourself beautiful, but as long as you neglect this you cannot help being ugly, though you should use every device to appear beautiful.

But beyond this I do not know what more to say to you; Epictetus, if he does not speak out, may fairly be blamed hereafter. for, if I say what I think, I shall vex you and you will go out and perhaps never return, but if I say nothing, consider what my conduct will be then; you come to me to get good, and I shall be refusing to do you good; you come to me to consult a philosopher, and I shall be refusing you a philosopher's advice. Besides, it is cruelty towards you to leave you uncorrected. If some day hereafter you come to your senses you will accuse me with god reason: 'What did Epictetus find in me, that when he saw me coming in to him in such a shameful state he should do nothing for me a say never a word to me? Did he so utterly despair of me? Was I n young? Was I not fit to listen to discourse? How many other young men make many mistakes like me in their youth? I hear that one Polemo, who had been the most intemperate of young men, underwent such a wonderful change. Grant that he did not think I should be a Polemo: he could have set my hair right, have taken away my bangles, have stopped me pulling my hairs out, but seeing that I had the aspect of—whom shall I say?—he said nothing.' I do not say whose aspect this is, but you will say it for yourself when you come to look into your own heart, and you will learn what it means and what sort of men they are who adopt it.

It is no excuse to say that he would not have been listened to. If hereafter you bring this charge against me, what defence shall I be able to make? Yes, but suppose I do speak, and he will not obey? Did Laius obey Apollo? Did he not go away in his drunken stupor and dismiss the oracle from his mind? What then? Did Apollo withhold the truth from him for that reason? Indeed I do not know whether you will obey me or not, but Apollo knew most certainly that Laius would not obey, and yet he spoke. Why did he speak? Nay, why is he Apollo, why does he give oracles, why has he set himself in this position, to be a Prophet and a Fountain of truth, so that men from all the world come to him? Why is 'Know thyself' written up over his shrine, though no one understands it?

Socrates took no heed of this. Did Socrates persuade all who came to him to attend to their characters? Not one in a thousand! Nevertheless when appointed to this post, as he says, by the ordinance of God, he refused to desert it. Nay, what did he say to his judges? 'If you acquit me', he says, 'on these terms, that I cease to do what I do now, I shall not accept your offer, nor give up my ways, but I shall go to any one I meet, young or old, and put to him these questions that I put now, and I shall question you my fellow citizens far more than any others because you are nearer akin to me.' Are you so fussy and interfering, Socrates? What do you care what we do? 'What language to use! You are my fellow and kinsman, yet you neglect yourself and provide the city with a bad citizen, your kinsmen with a bad kinsman, and your neighbours with a bad neighbour!' The philosopher is bound to take interest in men. 'Who are you, then?'

Plain English · paraphraseSocrates paid no attention to this. Did Socrates persuade all who came to him to care about their characters? Not one in a thousand! Still, when he was placed in this position, as he says, by God's command, he refused to leave it. No, what did he say to his judges? "If you set me free," he said, "on the condition that I stop doing what I do now, I will not accept your offer, nor will I change my ways. I will go to anyone I meet, young or old, and ask them the same questions I ask now. And I will question you, my fellow citizens, more than anyone else, because you are more closely related to me." Are you so picky and meddlesome, Socrates? What do you care what we do? "What kind of language is that!" he said. "You are my fellow and relative, yet you neglect yourself and produce a bad citizen for the city, a bad relative for your kin, and a bad neighbor for your neighbors!" The philosopher must be concerned with people. "Who are you, then?"

To this question it is a weighty answer to say, 'I am he who is bound to take interest in men.' For ordinary cattle dare not resist the lion; but if the bull comes up to withstand him, say to him, if you think fit, 'Who are you?' and 'What do you care?' Man! in every class of creatures nature produces some exceptional specimen; it is so among cattle, dogs, bees, horses. Do not say then to the exception, 'What are you then?' He is like the purple thread in a garment. If you do, he will get a voice somehow and say, 'I am like the purple in a garment: do not require me to be like the rest, nor blame my nature, because it made me different from the rest.'

Plain English · paraphraseTo this question, it is a strong answer to say, "I am the one who must care about people." Ordinary cattle do not dare to resist the lion; but if a bull comes forward to face him, you may ask him, if you wish, "Who are you?" and "What business is it of yours?" In every kind of creature, nature produces some special example; this is true among cattle, dogs, bees, horses. Do not then ask the special one, "What are you then?" He is like the purple thread in a garment. If you do, he will find a way to say, "I am like the purple in a garment: do not expect me to be like the others, nor blame my nature, because it made me different from the rest."

Adorn your reason, if you would attain to beauty. What then? Am I fit to play this part? How can I be? And are you fit to hear the truth? Would that it were so! Nevertheless since I am condemned, it seems, to wear a white beard and a cloak, and since you come to me as to a philosopher, I will not treat you cruelly as though I despaired of you, but will say, Young man, who is it that you want to make beautiful? First get to know who you are, and then adorn yourself. You are a man, that is, a mortal creature which has the power to deal with impressions rationally. What does 'rationally' mean? Perfectly, and in accordance with nature. What then is your distinctive possession? Your animal nature? No. Your mortality? No. Your power to deal with impressions? No. Your reasoning faculty is the distinctive one: this you must adorn and make beautiful. Leave your hair to Him that formed it in accordance with His will. Tell me, what other names have you? Are you man or woman? 'Man.'

Do not make a woman of yourself, Adorn Man then, not Woman. Woman is born smooth and tender, and if she has much hair on her body it is a prodigy, and exhibited in Rome as a prodigy. But in a man it is a prodigy not to be hairy: if he is born smooth it is a prodigy, and if he make himself smooth by shaving and plucking, what are we to make of him? Where are we to show him, and what notice are we to put up? 'I will show you a man who prefers to be a woman.' What a shocking exhibition! Every one will be astonished at the notice: by Zeus, I think that even the men who pluck out their hairs do so without understanding that this is what they are doing! Man, what complaint have you to make of Nature? Is it that she made you a man? Ought she to have made all to be women? Why, if all were women, there would be no one to adorn yourself for.

If you are not satisfied with your condition as it is, do the thing completely. unless you are prepared to do so completely. Remove—what shall I call it?—that which is the cause of your hairiness; make yourself a woman out and out, and not half-man, half-woman, and then we shall not be misled. Whom do you wish to please? Your darling womenkind? Then please them as a man. 'Yes, but they like smooth men.' Go and hang yourself! If they liked unnatural creatures, would you become one? Is this your function, is this what you were born for, that profligate women should take pleasure in you? Is it with this character that we are to make you a citizen of Corinth, and, if it so chance, City-warden, or Governor of the Ephebi, or General, or Steward of the games? Well, and when you have married a wife, are you going to pluck yourself smooth? For whom and for what? And when you have begotten boys, are you going to bring them into our citizenship as plucked creatures too? Noble citizen and senator and orator! Is this the kind of young man we are to pray to have bred and reared for us?

Epictetus, in urging men to beautify their reason, is the mouthpiece of God. Nay, by the gods, young man! but when once you have heard these words, go and say to yourself: 'These are not the words of Epictetus: how could they be? but some kind god speaks through him; for it would never have occurred to Epictetus to say this, as he is not wont to speak to any one. Come then, let us obey God, that we may not incur God's wrath.' Why, if a raven croaks and gives you a sign, it is not the raven that gives the sign, but God through him: and if He gives you a sign through a human voice, will He not be making man tell you this, that you may learn the power of the divine, and see that it gives signs to some in this way, and to others in that, and of the highest and most sovereign matters gives signs through the noblest messenger? What else is the meaning of the poet, when he says Since we warned him By Hermes Argus-slayer, clear of sight, To slay him not nor woo his wedded wife?

And as Hermes was sent down to tell him this, so now the gods have sent 'Hermes the Argus-slayer, their messenger,' and tell you this—not to pervert what is good and right, and not to interfere with it, but to leave man man and woman woman, the beautiful person a beautiful person, and the ugly person an ugly person. For you are not flesh, nor hair, but a rational will: if you get this beautiful, then you will be beautiful. So far I do not dare to tell you that you are ugly, for I think you would hear anything rather than that. But see what Socrates says to Alcibiades, most beautiful and charming of men: 'Strive then to attain beauty,' What does he say to him? Does he say, 'Arrange your hair and smooth your legs'? God forbid! but 'Set your will in order, rid it of bad judgements.' 'How treat the poor body then?' According to its nature: that is God's concern, trust it to Him. 'What then? Is the body to be unclean?' God forbid! but cleanse your true, natural self: let man be clean as man, woman as woman, child as child. Nay, let us pluck out the lion's mane, lest it be unclean, and the cock's comb, for he too must be clean!

Clean? yes, but clean as a cock, and the lion as a lion, and the hound of the chase as such a hound should be.

CHAPTER II (1) In what matters should the man who is to make progress train himself: and (2) that we neglect what is most vital. There are three departments of training. There are three departments in which a man who is to be good and noble must be trained. The first concerns the will to get and will to avoid; (1)he must be trained not to fail to get what he wills to get nor fall into what he wills to avoid. (2)The second is concerned with impulse to act and not to act, and, in a word, the sphere of what is fitting: that we should act in order, with due consideration, and with proper care. The object of the third (3) is that we may not be deceived, and may not judge at random, and generally it is concerned with assent. Of these the most important and the most pressing is the first, which is concerned with strong emotions, for such emotion does not arise except when the will to get or the will to avoid fails of its object. This it is which brings with it disturbances, tumults, misfortunes, bad fortunes, mournings, lamentations, envies; which makes men envious and jealous—passions which make us unable to listen to reason.

The second is the sphere of what is fitting: for I must not be without feeling like a statue, but must maintain my natural and acquired relations, as a religious man, as son, brother, father, citizen. The third, that of logic, is suited only for men already in a state of progress. The third department is appropriate only for those who are already making progress, and is concerned with giving certainty in the very things we have spoken of, so that even in sleep or drunkenness or melancholy no untested impression may come upon us unawares. 'This', says a pupil, 'is beyond us.' But the philosophers of to-day have disregarded the first and second departments, and devote themselves to the third—variable premisses, syllogisms concluding with a question, hypothetical syllogisms, fallacious arguments. 'Of course,' he says, 'when a man, is engaged on these subjects he must take pains to escape being deceived.' But whose business is it to do this? It is only for the man who is already good.

You fall short in this, but are you perfect in the others? In logic then you fall short: but have you reached perfection in other subjects? Are you proof against deceit in regard to money? If you see a pretty girl, do you resist the impression? If your neighbour comes in for an inheritance, do you not feel a twinge? Do you lack nothing now but security of judgement? Unhappy man, even while you are learning this lesson you are in an agony of terror lest some one should think scorn of you, and you ask whether any one is talking about you! And if some one comes and tells you, 'We were discussing who was the best philosopher, and one who was there said, "There is only one philosopher, So-and-so (naming you)"', straightway your poor little four-inch soul shoots up to two cubits! Then if another who is by says, 'Nonsense! It is not worth while to listen to So-and-so: what does he know? He has the first rudiments, nothing more', you are beside yourself, and grow pale and cry out at once, 'I will show him the man I am, he shall see I am a great philosopher.' Why, the facts themselves are evidence; why do you want to show it by something else? Do you not know that Diogenes pointed out one of the sophists thus, making a vulgar gesture? Then, when the man was furious, 'That is So-and-so,' said he, 'I have shown him to you.' A man is not indeed like a stone or a log, that you can show what he is by just pointing a finger, but you show what he is as a man, when you show what are his judgements.

Your judgements will show what you really are. Let us look at your judgements too. Is it not clear that you set no value on your will, but look outside to things beyond your will?—what So-and-so will say, what men will think of you, whether they will think you a scholar, one who has read Chrysippus or Antipater, for if you have read them and Archedemus as well, you have read everything. Why are you still in agony, lest you should fail to show us what manner of man you are? Would you like me to say what manner of man you showed yourself to us? A man who comes before us mean, critical, quick-tempered, cowardly, blaming everything, accusing every one, never quiet, vainglorious—that is what you showed us! Go away now and read Archedemus; then if a mouse fall and make a noise, you die of fright! For the same sort of death awaits you, as—whom shall I say?—Crinis! He too was proud of understanding Archedemus!

Until you can resist your passions, it is useless to study logic Unhappy man, will you not leave these things alone, which do not concern you? They are suited only to those who can learn them without confusion, to those who are able to say, 'I feel no anger, pain, or envy; I am under no hindrance, no constraint. What is left for me to do? I have leisure and peace of mind. Let us see how we ought to deal with logical changes: let us see how one may adopt a hypothesis and not be led to an absurd conclusion.' These are matters well enough for men like that. It is fitting for sailors who are in good trim to light a fire, and take their dinner, if luck serves, and to sing and dance: but you come to me when the ship is sinking and begin hoisting the topsails!

CHAPTER III What is the material with which the good man deals: and what should be the object of our training.

The good has a natural attraction for the soul. It is like good coin, which cannot be refused. The material of the good man is his own Governing Principle, as the body is the material of the physician and trainer, the land of the farmer; and it is the function of the good man to deal with his impressions naturally. And just as it is the nature of every soul to assent to what is true and dissent from what is false, and withhold judgement in what is uncertain, so it is its nature to be moved with the will to get what is good and the will to avoid what is evil, and to be neutral towards what is neither good nor evil. For just as neither the banker nor the greengrocer can refuse the Emperor's currency, but, if you show it, he must part, willy-nilly, with what the coin will buy, so it is also with the soul. The very sight of good attracts one towards it, the sight of evil repels. The soul will never reject a clear impression of good, any more than we reject Caesar's currency. On this depends every motion of man and of God. It overrides all other claims. Therefore the good is preferred to every tie of kinship.

I have no concern with my father, but with the good! 'Are you so hard-hearted?' It is my nature; this is the currency which God has given me. Therefore if the good is different from the noble and just, then father and brother, country and all such things disappear. I say, am I to neglect my good, that you may get it? am I to make way for you? Why should I? 'I am your father.' But not my good. 'I am your brother.' But not my good. If we make the good consist in right will, the mere maintenance of such relations becomes good: further, he who resigns some of his external possessions attains the good. 'My father is taking away my money.' But he is not harming you. 'My brother will have the greater part of the land.' Character is not touched by external things. Let him have as much as he likes: does he gain in character? Is he more modest, trustworthy, brotherly? Who can eject one from that possession? Not even Zeus: nor did He wish to eject me; He put my character in my keeping and gave it me as He had it himself, unhindered, unfettered, unrestrained.

Plain English · paraphraseI have no concern with my father, but with what is good! "Are you so hard-hearted?" It is my nature; this is the way God has made me. Therefore, if what is good is different from what is noble and just, then father and brother, country and all such things disappear. I say, am I to neglect what is good for you to have it? Am I to step aside for you? Why should I? "I am your father." But not what is good. "I am your brother." But not what is good. If we make what is good consist in right will, then simply keeping these relationships is good: further, the one who gives up some of his external possessions attains what is good. "My father is taking away my money." But he is not harming you. "My brother will have the greater part of the land." Character is not affected by external things. Let him have as much as he likes: does he gain in character? Is he more modest, trustworthy, brotherly? Who can take that from you? Not even Zeus: nor did he want to take it from me; he placed my character in my care and gave it to me as he had it himself, free, unbound, unrestrained.

Different men use different currency. Inasmuch then as different people have a different currency, a man shows his coin and gets what it will buy. A thief has come to the province as Proconsul. What coin does he use? Money. Show him money, and carry off what you will. An adulterer has come. What currency does he use? Pretty girls. 'Take your coin', says he, 'and sell me the thing I want.' Give, and buy. Another's heart is set on minions. Give him the coin and take what you will. Another is a sportsman. Give him a fine horse or dog. With sighs and groans he will sell you what you like for it: for he is constrained from within, by Another, who has ordained this currency. Train yourself to reject as false coin all that is beyond the region of the will. It is by this principle above all that you must guide yourself in training. Go out as soon as it is dawn and whomsoever you may see and hear, question yourself and answer as to an interrogator. What did you see? A beautiful woman or boy. Apply the rule: Is this within the will's control or beyond it? Beyond. Away with it then!

Plain English · paraphraseDifferent people value different things. Since people have different values, each person offers what they have and gets what it can buy. A thief has come to the province as governor. What does he value? Money. Show him money, and he will give you what you want. A man who commits adultery has come. What does he value? Attractive women. "Take your offering," he says, "and give me what I want." Give, and receive. Another person desires flatterers. Give him what he wants and take what you want from him. Another is fond of sports. Give him a fine horse or dog. With sighs and complaints, he will trade what you want for it: for he is driven from within by Another, who set this value. Train yourself to reject as worthless anything that is outside the power of your will. This is the most important rule to follow in your training. Go out as soon as it is daylight, and whenever you see or hear anyone, ask yourself and answer as if speaking to an examiner. What did you see? A beautiful woman or man. Apply the rule: Is this within your will's control or outside it? Outside. Then reject it!