Book 2, Chapter 19

Against Those Who Only Talk Philosophy.[380]

7 min

The argument called the ruling argument (ὁ κυριεύων λόγος) appears to have been proposed from such principles as these: there is in fact a common contradiction between one another in these three propositions, each two being in contradiction to the third. The propositions are, that every thing past must of necessity be true; that an impossibility does not follow a possibility; and that a thing is possible which neither is nor will be true. Diodorus observing this contradiction employed the probative force of the first two for the demonstration of this proposition, That nothing is possible which is not true and never will be. Now another will hold these two: That something is possible, which is neither true nor ever will be: and That an impossibility does not follow a possibility. But he will not allow that every thing which is past is necessarily true, as the followers of Cleanthes seem to think, and Antipater copiously defended them. But others maintain the other two propositions, That a thing is possible which is neither true nor will be true: and That everything which is past is necessarily true; but then they will maintain that an impossibility can follow a possibility. But it is impossible to maintain these three propositions, because of their common contradiction.

The argument called the ruling argument (ὁ κυριεύων λόγος) appears to have been based on principles like these. Three propositions contradict one another, so that any two contradict the third. The propositions are: everything in the past is necessarily true; an impossibility does not follow from a possibility; and something is possible that neither is nor will be true. Diodorus noticed this contradiction. He used the force of the first two propositions to prove that nothing is possible unless it is true or will be true. Someone else will accept two propositions: something is possible that neither is nor ever will be true, and an impossibility does not follow from a possibility. But he will not accept that everything in the past is necessarily true. The followers of Cleanthes seem to take this view, and Antipater defended them at length. Others maintain a different pair of propositions: something is possible that neither is nor will be true, and everything in the past is necessarily true. But then they will maintain that an impossibility can follow from a possibility. It is impossible to maintain all three propositions, because they contradict one another.

See the long note James Harris sent to Upton, and Schweighaeuser's note.

Diodorus, known as Cronus, lived in Alexandria during the time of Ptolemaeus Soter. He belonged to the Megaric school and was distinguished in dialectic.

If you accept any two of these three, they must contradict and rule out the third.

Compare Gellius xvii. c. 19.

If then any man should ask me, which of these propositions do you maintain? I will answer him, that I do not know; but I have received this story, that Diodorus maintained one opinion, the followers of Panthoides, I think, and Cleanthes maintained another opinion, and those of Chrysippus a third. What then is your opinion? I was not made for this purpose, to examine the appearances that occur to me, and to compare what others say and to form an opinion of my own on the thing. Therefore I differ not at all from the grammarian. Who was Hector's father? Priam. Who were his brothers? Alexander and Deiphobus. Who was their mother? Hecuba.—I have heard this story. From whom? From Homer. And Hellanicus also, I think, writes about the same things, and perhaps others like him. And what further have I about the ruling argument? Nothing. But, if I am a vain man, especially at a banquet I surprise the guests by enumerating those who have written on these matters. Both Chrysippus has written wonderfully in his first book. about Possibilities, and Cleanthes has written specially on the subject, and Archedemus. Antipater also has written not only in his work about Possibilities, but also separately in his work on the ruling argument. Have you not read the work? I have not read it. Read. And what profit will a man have from it? he will be more trifling and impertinent than he is now; for what else have you gained by reading it? What opinion have you formed on this subject? none; but you will tell us of Helen and Priam, and the island of Calypso which never was and never will be. And in this matter indeed it is of no great importance if you retain the story, but have formed no opinion of your own. But in matters of morality (Ethic) this happens to us much more than in these things of which we are speaking.

If someone asks me, “Which of these propositions do you defend?” I will answer, “I don’t know. But I have heard that Diodorus held one opinion. The followers of Panthoides, I think, and Cleanthes held another, and the followers of Chrysippus held a third.” “Then what is your opinion?” I was not made to examine the appearances I encounter, compare what others say, and form my own opinion. So I am no different from a grammarian. Who was Hector’s father? Priam. Who were his brothers? Alexander and Deiphobus. Who was their mother? Hecuba. I have heard this story. From whom? From Homer. Hellanicus also writes about the same things, I think, and perhaps others like him do too. What more do I know about the ruling argument? Nothing. But if I am vain, I can astonish guests at a banquet by listing those who have written about it. Chrysippus wrote wonderfully about it in the first book of his work on Possibilities. Cleanthes and Archedemus each wrote a work devoted to the subject. Antipater wrote about it not only in his work on Possibilities, but also in a separate work on the ruling argument. “Haven’t you read that work?” “I haven’t.” “Read it.” What good will reading it do a man? It will make him more frivolous and meddlesome than he is now. For what else have you gained by reading it? What opinion have you formed on the subject? None. Instead, you will tell us about Helen and Priam, and about Calypso’s island, which never existed and never will. In this case, it hardly matters if you remember the story but have formed no opinion of your own. But this happens to us much more often in matters of morality than in the matters we are discussing.

Speak to me about good and evil. Listen:

Tell me about good and evil. Listen:

The wind from Ilium to Ciconian shores Brought me.—Odyssey, ix. 39.

The wind carried me from Ilium to the Ciconian shores. (Odyssey, ix. 39.)

'Speak to me,' etc. may be understood as addressed to Epictetus, who has been mocking subtle points of logic and the learning of grammarians. When asked to speak about good and evil, he takes the first verse of the Odyssey that comes to mind and says, Listen. There is nothing to listen to, but it is as good for the listener as anything else. Then he states some philosophical principles. When asked where he learned them, he says he learned them from Hellanicus, who was a historian, not a philosopher. He is teasing the listener. It does not matter which author he learned them from. It is all the same. The real question is: have you examined what Good and Evil are and formed your own opinion?

Of things some are good, some are bad, and others are indifferent. The good then are the virtues and the things which partake of the virtues: the bad are the vices, and the things which partake of them; and the indifferent are the things which lie between the virtues and the vices, wealth, health, life, death, pleasure, pain. Whence do you know this? Hellanicus says it in his Egyptian history; for what difference does it make to say this, or to say that Diogenes has it in his Ethic, or Chrysippus or Cleanthes? Have you then examined any of these things and formed an opinion of your own? Show how you are used to behave in a storm on shipboard? Do you remember this division (distinction of things), when the sail rattles and a man, who knows nothing of times and seasons, stands by you when you are screaming and says, Tell me, I ask you by the Gods, what you were saying just now, Is it a vice to suffer shipwreck: does it participate in vice? Will you not take up a stick and lay it on his head? What have we to do with you, man? we are perishing and you come to mock us? But if Caesar send for you to answer a charge, do you remember the distinction? If when you are going in pale and trembling, a person should come up to you and say, Why do you tremble, man? what is the matter about which you are engaged? Does Caesar who sits within give virtue and vice to those who go in to him? You reply, Why do you also mock me and add to my present sorrows?—Still tell me, philosopher, tell me why you tremble? Is it not death of which you run the risk, or a prison, or pain of the body, or banishment, or disgrace? What else is there? Is there any vice or anything which partakes of vice? What then did you use to say of these things?—'What have you to do with me, man? my own evils are enough for me.' And you say right. Your own evils are enough for you, your baseness, your cowardice, your boasting which you showed when you sat in the school. Why did you decorate yourself with what belonged to others? Why did you call yourself a Stoic?

Some things are good, some are bad, and others are indifferent. Good things are the virtues and whatever shares in them. Bad things are the vices and whatever shares in them. Indifferent things lie between virtue and vice: wealth, health, life, death, pleasure, and pain. How do you know this? Hellanicus says it in his Egyptian history. What difference does it make whether you say that or say that Diogenes says it in his Ethic, or Chrysippus or Cleanthes says it? Have you examined any of these things and formed an opinion of your own? Show me how you behave aboard a ship in a storm. The sail rattles, and you are screaming. A man beside you has no sense of the right time for a question. Suppose he says, “Tell me, I ask you by the Gods, what were you saying just now? Is being shipwrecked a vice? Does it share in vice?” Do you remember your distinction between good, bad, and indifferent things then? Won’t you pick up a stick and hit him over the head? “What do you want with us, man? We’re dying, and you come to mock us?” But if Caesar summons you to answer a charge, do you remember the distinction? You are going in, pale and trembling. Suppose someone comes up and says, “Why are you trembling, man? What is at stake here? Does Caesar, sitting inside, give virtue and vice to the people who enter?” You reply, “Why are you mocking me too, and adding to my troubles?” “But tell me, philosopher, tell me why you tremble. Isn’t it death you risk, or prison, or bodily pain, or exile, or disgrace? What else is there? Is there any vice, or anything that shares in vice? What did you use to say about these things?” “What do you want with me, man? I have enough troubles of my own.” And you are right. Your own troubles are enough for you: your baseness, your cowardice, and your boasting when you sat in the school. Why did you dress yourself up in ideas that belonged to others? Why did you call yourself a Stoic?

Observe yourselves thus in your actions, and you will find to what sect you belong. You will find that most of you are Epicureans, a few Peripatetics, and those feeble. For wherein will you show that you really consider virtue equal to everything else or even superior? But show me a Stoic, if you can. Where or how? But you can show me an endless number who utter small arguments of the Stoics. For do the same persons repeat the Epicurean opinions any worse? And the Peripatetic, do they not handle them also with equal accuracy? who then is a Stoic? As we call a statue Phidiac, which is fashioned according to the art of Phidias; so show me a man who is fashioned according to the doctrines which he utters. Show me a man who is sick and happy, in danger and happy, dying and happy, in exile and happy, in disgrace and happy. Show him: I desire, by the gods, to see a Stoic. You cannot show me one fashioned so; but show me at least one who is forming, who has shown a tendency to be a Stoic. Do me this favour: do not grudge an old man seeing a sight which I have not seen yet. Do you think that you must show me the Zeus of Phidias or the Athena, a work of ivory and gold? Let any of you show me a human soul ready to think as God does, and not to blame either God or man, ready not to be disappointed about any thing, not to consider himself damaged by any thing, not to be angry, not to be envious, not to be jealous; and why should I not say it direct? desirous from a man to become a god, and in this poor mortal body thinking of his fellowship with Zeus. Show me the man. But you cannot. Why then do you delude yourselves and cheat others? and why do you put on a guise which does not belong to you, and walk about being thieves and pilferers of these names and things which do not belong to you?

Watch how you act, and you will discover which school you belong to. You will find that most of you are Epicureans. A few are Peripatetics, and weak ones at that. How can you show that you truly consider virtue equal or superior to everything else? But show me a Stoic, if you can. Where or how can you find one? You can show me countless people who repeat the Stoics’ little arguments. But don’t those same people repeat Epicurean opinions just as well? Don’t they explain Peripatetic opinions just as accurately? Who, then, is a Stoic? We call a statue Phidiac when it is made according to the art of Phidias. In the same way, show me a person shaped by the doctrines he professes. Show me someone who is sick and happy, in danger and happy, dying and happy, exiled and happy, disgraced and happy. Show me such a person. By the gods, I want to see a Stoic. You cannot show me someone fully formed in this way. But at least show me someone who is developing, who has begun to become a Stoic. Do me this favor. Do not deny an old man the sight of something he has never yet seen. Do you think you must show me the Zeus or the Athena of Phidias, a work in ivory and gold? Let any of you show me a human soul ready to think as God does. Such a person would be ready to blame neither God nor man, to be disappointed by nothing, and to feel harmed by nothing. He would be ready to feel no anger, envy, or jealousy. And why should I not say it plainly? He would wish to rise from a man to a god. Even in this poor mortal body, he would think of his fellowship with Zeus. Show me the man. But you cannot. Why, then, do you deceive yourselves and cheat others? Why do you put on a disguise that does not belong to you? Why do you go about stealing these names and things that are not yours?

The Peripatetics recognized many things that contributed to a happy life as good. But they argued that even the smallest mental excellence was superior to all other things. Cicero, De Fin. v. 5. 31.

See ii. c. 8. 20.

'to blame God' means to blame the way things are made and ordered. Epictetus thought this was absurd and wicked. It was as absurd as a pot blaming the potter for making it able to wear out and break, if one can imagine that.

'Our fellowship is with the Father and with his son Jesus Christ,' 1 John i. 3. The attentive reader will notice several passages besides those already mentioned that show a striking agreement between Epictetus and the Scriptures. These passages suggest either that the Stoics had learned much of the language of Christianity, or that treating a subject practically and seriously leads people to use strong expressions. We often find such expressions in Scripture and sometimes in the philosophers, especially Epictetus.' Mrs. Carter.

And now I am your teacher, and you are instructed in my school. And I have this purpose, to make you free from restraint, compulsion, hindrance, to make you free, prosperous, happy, looking to God in everything small and great. And you are here to learn and practise these things. Why then do you not finish the work, if you also have such a purpose as you ought to have, and if I in addition to the purpose also have such qualification as I ought to have? What is that which is wanting? When I see an artificer and material lying by him, I expect the work. Here then is the artificer, here the material; what is it that we want? Is not the thing one that can be taught? It is. Is it not then in our power? The only thing of all that is in our power. Neither wealth is in our power, nor health, nor reputation, nor in a word any thing else except the right use of appearances. This (right use) is by nature free from restraint, this alone is free from impediment. Why then do you not finish the work? Tell me the reason. For it is either through my fault that you do not finish it, or through your own fault, or through the nature of the thing. The thing itself is possible, and the only thing in our power. It remains then that the fault is either in me or in you, or, what is nearer the truth, in both. Well then, are you willing that we begin at last to bring such a purpose into this school, and to take no notice of the past? Let us only make a beginning. Trust to me, and you will see.

Now I am your teacher, and you are learning in my school. My purpose is to free you from restraint, compulsion, and hindrance. I want to make you free, prosperous, and happy, looking to God in everything, great and small. And you are here to learn and practice these things. So why do you not finish the work? You should have the same purpose, and I should have both that purpose and the necessary skill. If we do, what is missing? When I see a craftsman with materials beside him, I expect him to produce something. Here is the craftsman, and here are the materials. So what are we missing? Can this be taught? Yes. Is it within our power? It is the only thing that is entirely within our power. Wealth, health, and reputation are not within our power. In short, nothing is, except the right use of appearances. This alone is naturally free from restraint and hindrance. So why do you not finish the work? Tell me why. The fault must lie with me, with you, or with the nature of the task. The task itself is possible, and it is the only thing within our power. So the fault must lie with me or with you. Or, closer to the truth, it lies with both of us. Well then, are you willing to bring such a purpose into this school at last? Are you willing to put the past aside? Let us just make a beginning. Trust me, and you will see.