Book 2, Chapter 23
The Power of Speaking
Every man will read a book with more pleasure or even with more ease, if it is written in fairer characters. Therefore every man will also listen more readily to what is spoken, if it is signified by appropriate and becoming words. We must not say then that there is no faculty of expression: for this affirmation is the characteristic of an impious and also of a timid man. Of an impious man, because he undervalues the gifts which come from God, just as if he would take away the commodity of the power of vision, or of hearing, or of seeing. Has then God given you eyes to no purpose? and to no purpose has he infused into them a spirit so strong and of such skilful contrivance as to reach a long way and to fashion the forms of things which are seen? What messenger is so swift and vigilant? And to no purpose has he made the interjacent atmosphere so efficacious and elastic that the vision penetrates through the atmosphere which is in a manner moved? And to no purpose has he made light, without the presence of which there would be no use in any other thing?
Everyone reads a book with more pleasure, and even more easily, if it is printed in clearer type. In the same way, everyone listens more readily when a speaker uses fitting and appropriate words. So we must not say that there is no skill in expressing ourselves. To say that is both irreverent and timid. It is irreverent because it undervalues God's gifts. It is like denying the usefulness of sight or hearing. Did God give you eyes for no purpose? Did he fill them with a spirit for no purpose? That spirit is so powerful and skillfully designed that it can reach far and form images of visible things. What messenger is so swift and watchful? Did he make the air between us and things for no purpose? He made it so responsive and flexible that sight can pass through it, as though the air were being moved. And did he make light for no purpose? Without light, none of these other things would be of any use.
The word for 'spirit' is πνεῦμα. Schweighaeuser explains it as a vital spirit, an animal spirit, or a nervous fluid. Plutarch calls it (De Placit. Philosoph. iv. 15) 'the spirit which has the power of vision, which permeates from the chief faculty of the mind to the pupil of the eye.' In another passage of the same treatise (iv. 8), he says: 'the instruments of perception are said to be intelligent spirits (πνεύματα νοερά) which have a motion from the chief faculty of the mind to the organs.'
See Schweig.'s note.
Man, be neither ungrateful for these gifts nor yet forget the things which are superior to them. But indeed for the power of seeing and hearing, and indeed for life itself, and for the things which contribute to support it, for the fruits which are dry, and for wine and oil give thanks to God: but remember that he has given you something else better than all these, I mean the power of using them, proving them and estimating the value of each. For what is that which gives information about each of these powers, what each of them is worth? Is it each faculty itself? Did you ever hear the faculty of vision saying any thing about itself? or the faculty of hearing? or wheat, or barley, or a horse or a dog? No; but they are appointed as ministers and slaves to serve the faculty which has the power of making use of the appearances of things. And if you inquire what is the value of each thing, of whom do you inquire? who answers you? How then can any other faculty be more powerful than this, which uses the rest as ministers and itself proves each and pronounces about them? for which of them knows what itself is, and what is its own value? which of them knows when it ought to employ itself and when not? what faculty is it which opens and closes the eyes, and turns them away from objects to which it ought not to apply them and does apply them to other objects? Is it the faculty of vision? No; but it is the faculty of the will. What is that faculty which closes and opens the ears? what is that by which they are curious and inquisitive, or on the contrary unmoved by what is said? is it the faculty of hearing? It is no other than the faculty of the will. Will this faculty then, seeing that it is amidst all the other faculties which are blind and dumb and unable to see any thing else except the very acts for which they are appointed in order to minister to this (faculty) and serve it, but this faculty alone sees sharp and sees what is the value of each of the rest; will this faculty declare to us that any thing else is the best, or that itself is? And what else does the eye do when it is opened than see? But whether we ought to look on the wife of a certain person, and in what manner, who tells us? The faculty of the will. And whether we ought to believe what is said or not to believe it, and if we do believe, whether we ought to be moved by it or not, who tells us? Is it not the faculty of the will? But this faculty of speaking and of ornamenting words, if there is indeed any such peculiar faculty, what else does it do, when there happens to be discourse about a thing, than to ornament the words and arrange them as hairdressers do the hair? But whether it is better to speak or to be silent, and better to speak in this way or that way, and whether this is becoming or not becoming, and the season for each and the use, what else tells us than the faculty of the will? Would you have it then to come forward and condemn itself?
Man, do not be ungrateful for these gifts, but do not forget what is superior to them. Thank God for sight and hearing, for life itself, and for the things that sustain it. Thank him for dried fruits, wine, and oil. But remember that he has given you something better than all these. I mean the power to use them, test them, and judge the value of each. What tells us what each of these powers is worth? Does each faculty tell us its own value? Have you ever heard sight or hearing say anything about itself? Or wheat, barley, a horse, or a dog? No. They are appointed as servants and slaves to the faculty that can make use of how things appear. And if you ask what each thing is worth, whom do you ask? Who answers you? How can any other faculty be more powerful than this one? It uses the others as servants, tests each one, and passes judgment on them. Which of the others knows what it is or what it is worth? Which knows when it should act and when it should not? What faculty opens and closes the eyes? What turns them away from things they should not look at and directs them toward other things? Is it sight? No, it is the faculty of the will. What faculty opens and closes the ears? What makes the ears curious and eager to hear, or, on the other hand, unmoved by what is said? Is it hearing? It is none other than the faculty of the will. All the other faculties are blind and dumb. They can perceive nothing beyond the very acts assigned to them as servants of the will. The faculty of the will alone sees clearly and knows the value of each of the others. Will this faculty declare that something else is best, or that it is itself? What does the eye do when opened, except see? But who tells us whether we should look at another man's wife, and how we should look at her? The faculty of the will. And who tells us whether to believe what is said or not? If we do believe it, who tells us whether we should be moved by it? Is it not the faculty of the will? And what about the faculty of speaking and adorning words, if there is indeed such a distinct faculty? When a subject comes up for discussion, what does this faculty do? It adorns and arranges words, just as hairdressers arrange hair. But what tells us whether it is better to speak or stay silent? What tells us whether it is better to speak one way or another? What tells us whether it is fitting or not, and the time and purpose for each? What else but the faculty of the will? Would you expect it to come forward and condemn itself?
See i. 1.
Schweighaeuser notes: 'That which Epictetus names the προαιρετικὴ δυναμις and afterwards frequently προαίρεσις, is generally translated by 'voluntas' (will); but it has a wider meaning than is generally given to the Latin word, and it comprehends the intellect with the will, and all the active power of the mind which we sometimes designate by the general name Reason.'
What then? it (the will) says, if the fact is so, can that which ministers be superior to that to which it ministers, can the horse be superior to the rider, or the dog to the huntsman, or the instrument to the musician, or the servants to the king? What is that which makes use of the rest? The will. What takes care of all? The will. What destroys the whole man, at one time by hunger, at another time by hanging, and at another time by a precipice? The will. Then is any thing stronger in men than this? and how is it possible that the things which are subject to restraint are stronger than that which is not? What things are naturally formed to hinder the faculty of vision? Both will and things which do not depend on the faculty of the will. It is the same with the faculty of hearing, with the faculty of speaking in like manner. But what has a natural power of hindering the will? Nothing which is independent of the will; but only the will itself, when it is perverted. Therefore this (the will) is alone vice or alone virtue.
What then? The will says, if this is so, can what serves be superior to what it serves? Can the horse be superior to the rider, or the dog to the huntsman? Can the instrument be superior to the musician, or the servants to the king? What makes use of everything else? The will. What takes care of everything? The will. What destroys the whole person, sometimes by hunger, sometimes by hanging, and sometimes by a fall from a cliff? The will. Then is anything in people stronger than the will? How can things that can be restrained be stronger than what cannot be restrained? What kinds of things can naturally hinder sight? Both the will and things that do not depend on the will. The same is true of hearing and speaking. But what has the natural power to hinder the will? Nothing independent of the will can hinder it. Only the will itself can do so, when it is corrupted. Therefore, the will alone is the source of vice or virtue.
On the Greek text, Upton remarks that 'there are many passages in these dissertations which are ambiguous or rather confused on account of the small questions, and because the matter is not expanded by oratorical copiousness, not to mention other causes.'
The usual reading is καὶ προαιρετά. Salmasius proposes καὶ ἀπροαίρετα. Schweig. says in a note that he accepts this reading and uses it in his Latin translation. But his text has καὶ προαιρετά.
Then being so great a faculty and set over all the rest, let it (the will) come forward and tell us that the most excellent of all things is the flesh. Not even if the flesh itself declared that it is the most excellent, would any person bear that it should say this. But what is it, Epicurus, which pronounces this, which wrote about the End (purpose) of our Being, which wrote on the Nature of Things, which wrote about the Canon (rule of truth), which led you to wear a beard, which wrote when it was dying that it was spending the last and a happy day? Was this the flesh or the will? Then do you admit that you possess any thing superior to this (the will)? and are you not mad? are you in fact so blind and deaf?
The will is so great a faculty, and it rules over all the others. So let it come forward and tell us that the flesh is the best of all things. Even if the flesh itself declared that it was the best, no one would tolerate such a claim. But Epicurus, what is it that makes this claim? What wrote about the End (purpose) of our Being, the Nature of Things, and the Canon (rule of truth)? What led you to wear a beard? What wrote, as it was dying, that it was spending its last day happily? Was it the flesh or the will? Do you then admit that you possess anything superior to the will? Are you not mad? Are you really so blind and deaf?
This appears to be the book Cicero (Tuscul. iii. 18) calls 'supreme good' (de summo bono). Cicero says the book contains all the doctrine of Epicurus. Velleius mentions the book on the Canon or Rule in Cicero de Nat. Deorum i. c. 16. He calls it 'that celestial volume of Epicurus on the Rule and Judgment.' See also De Fin. i. 19.
Epicurus wrote this in a letter while dying in great pain (Diog. Laert. x. 22). Cicero (De Fin. ii. c. 30) quotes the letter.
What then? does any man despise the other faculties? I hope not. Does any man say that there is no use or excellence in the speaking faculty? I hope not. That would be foolish, impious, ungrateful towards God. But a man renders to each thing its due value. For there is some use even in an ass, but not so much as in an ox: there is also use in a dog, but not so much as in a slave: there is also some use in a slave, but not so much as in citizens: there is also some use in citizens, but not so much as in magistrates. Not indeed because some things are superior, must we undervalue the use which other things have. There is a certain value in the power of speaking, but it is not so great as the power of the will. When then I speak thus, let no man think that I ask you to neglect the power of speaking, for neither do I ask you to neglect the eyes, nor the ears nor the hands nor the feet, nor clothing nor shoes. But if you ask me what then is the most excellent of all things, what must I say? I cannot say the power of speaking, but the power of the will, when it is right (open). For it is this which uses the other (the power of speaking), and all the other faculties both small and great. For when this faculty of the will is set right, a man who is not good becomes good: but when it fails, a man becomes bad. It is through this that we are unfortunate, that we are fortunate, that we blame one another, are pleased with one another. In a word, it is this which if we neglect it makes unhappiness, and if we carefully look after it, makes happiness.
What then? Does anyone despise the other faculties? I hope not. Does anyone say that the power of speech has no use or excellence? I hope not. That would be foolish, impious, and ungrateful to God. But we should give each thing its proper value. Even a donkey has some use, but not as much as an ox. A dog also has some use, but not as much as a slave. A slave also has some use, but not as much as citizens. Citizens also have some use, but not as much as magistrates. Just because some things are superior, we must not undervalue the use of other things. The power of speech has value, but not as much as the power of the will. When I say this, no one should think I am asking you to neglect the power of speech. Nor am I asking you to neglect your eyes, ears, hands, feet, clothing, or shoes. But if you ask me what is most excellent of all, what must I say? I cannot say the power of speech. I must say the power of the will, when it is right (open). For the will uses the power of speech and all the other faculties, both small and great. When the will is set right, a person who is not good becomes good. But when the will fails, a person becomes bad. It is through the will that we are unfortunate or fortunate. It is through the will that we blame one another or are pleased with one another. In short, if we neglect the will, it makes us unhappy. If we care for it carefully, it makes us happy.
The manuscripts have προαιρετικῆς δυνάμεως. Lord Shaftesbury and Salmasius both suggested φραστικῆς. Schweig. has rightly put φραστικῆς in the text.
But to take away the faculty of speaking and to say that there is no such faculty in reality, is the act not only of an ungrateful man towards those who gave it, but also of a cowardly man: for such a person seems to me to fear, if there is any faculty of this kind, that we shall not be able to despise it. Such also are those who say that there is no difference between beauty and ugliness. Then it would happen that a man would be affected in the same way if he saw Thersites and if he saw Achilles; in the same way, if he saw Helen and any other woman. But these are foolish and clownish notions, and the notions of men who know not the nature of each thing, but are afraid, if a man shall see the difference, that he shall immediately be seized and carried off vanquished. But this is the great matter; to leave to each thing the power (faculty) which it has, and leaving to it this power to see what is the worth of the power, and to learn what is the most excellent of all things, and to pursue this always, to be diligent about this, considering all other things of second.. ary value compared with this, but yet, as far as we can, not neglecting all those other things. For we must take care of the eyes also, not as if they were the most excellent thing, but we must take care of them on account of the most excellent thing, because it will not be in its true natural condition, if it does not rightly use the ether faculties, and prefer some things to others.
But denying the power of speech and saying that no such power really exists is both ungrateful and cowardly. It is ungrateful to those who gave us this power. And it seems to me that anyone who denies it fears we will be unable to look down on it if it exists. The same is true of those who say there is no difference between beauty and ugliness. If that were true, a man would be affected in the same way by seeing Thersites as by seeing Achilles. He would be affected in the same way by seeing Helen as by seeing any other woman. But these are foolish, clownish ideas. They come from people who do not understand the nature of each thing. They fear that if a man sees the difference, he will immediately be seized and carried away, defeated by it. But the important thing is to recognize each thing’s power, while also seeing what that power is worth. We must learn what is best of all, always pursue it, and devote ourselves to it. We must consider all other things less valuable than what is best, but still not neglect them, as far as we can. For we must take care of our eyes too, not as though they were the best thing, but for the sake of what is best. For what is best will not be in its proper natural condition if it does not use the other powers rightly and prefer some things to others.
What then is usually done? Men generally act as a traveller would do on his way to his own country, when he enters a good inn, and being pleased with it should remain there. Man, you have forgotten your purpose: you were not travelling to this inn, but you were passing through it.—But this is a pleasant inn.—And how many other inns are pleasant? and how many meadows are pleasant? yet only for passing through. But your purpose is this, to return to your country, to relieve your kinsmen of anxiety, to discharge the duties of a citizen, to marry, to beget children, to fill the usual magistracies. For you are not come to select more pleasant places, but to live in these where you were born and of which you were made a citizen. Something of the kind takes place in the matter which we are considering. Since by the aid of speech and such communication as you receive here you must advance to perfection, and purge your will and correct the faculty which makes use of the appearances of things; and since it is necessary also for the teaching (delivery) of theorems to be effected by a certain mode of expression and with a certain variety and sharpness, some persons captivated by these very things abide in them, oue captivated by the expression, another by syllogisms, another again by sophisms, and still another by some other inn (πανδοκείου) of the kind; and there they stay and waste away as if they were among Sirens.
What do people usually do? They act like a traveler on his way home who enters a good inn, likes it, and stays there. Man, you have forgotten your purpose. You were not traveling to this inn. You were only passing through it. But this is a pleasant inn. How many other inns are pleasant? And how many meadows are pleasant? Yet they are only places to pass through. Your purpose is to return home, put your relatives’ minds at ease, and fulfill your duties as a citizen. You are to marry, have children, and hold the usual public offices. You have not come to choose more pleasant places. You have come to live where you were born and where you were made a citizen. Something similar happens in the matter we are considering. With the help of speech and the instruction you receive here, you must progress toward perfection. You must purify your will and correct the faculty that deals with how things appear. To teach principles, one must also express them with some variety and sharpness. But some people become captivated by these very things and remain absorbed in them. One is captivated by the expression, another by syllogisms, another by sophisms, and still another by some other inn (πανδοκείου) of that kind. There they stay and waste away, as if they were among Sirens.
The Stoics taught that a man should lead an active life. Horace (Ep. i. 1. 16) describes himself as sometimes following Stoic principles:
Man, your purpose (business) was to make yourself capable of using comformably to nature the appearances presented to you, in your desires not to be frustrated, in your aversion from things not to fall into that which you would avoid, never to have no luck (as one may say), nor ever to have bad luck, to be free, not hindered, not compelled, conforming yourself to the administration of Zeus, obeying it, well satisfied with this, blaming no one, charging no one with fault, able from your whole soul to utter these verses
Man, your purpose was to learn to respond to appearances in accordance with nature. You were to get what you desired and avoid what you sought to avoid. You were never to be unlucky, as one might say, or to suffer bad luck. You were to be free, without being hindered or forced. You were to conform to Zeus’s rule, obey it, and be content with it. You were to blame no one and accuse no one of wrongdoing. You were to be able to say these verses with your whole soul:
Lead me, O Zeus, and thou too Destiny.
Lead me, Zeus, and you too, Destiny.
The remaining verses are quoted in the Encheiridion, s. 52.
Then having this purpose before you, if some little form of expression pleases you, if some theorems please you, do you abide among them and choose to dwell there, forgetting the things at home, and do you say, These things are fine? Who says that they are not fine? but only as being a way home, as inns are. For what hinders you from being an unfortunate man, even if you speak like Demosthenes? and what prevents you, if you can resolve syllogisms like Chrysippus, from being wretched, from sorrowing, from envying, in a word, from being disturbed, from being unhappy? Nothing. You see then that these were inns, worth nothing; and that the purpose before you was something else. When I speak thus to some persons, they think that I am rejecting care about speaking or care about theorems. But I am not rejecting this care, but I am rejecting the abiding about these things incessantly and putting our hopes in them. If a man by this teaching does harm to those who listen to him, reckon me too among those who do this harm: for I am not able, when I see one thing which is most excellent and supreme, to say that another is so, in order to please you.
With this goal in mind, suppose you like a particular expression or some philosophical theories. Do you linger over them and choose to stay there, forgetting what awaits you at home? Do you say, These things are fine? Who says they are not? But they are fine only as a means of getting home, like inns along the way. What stops you from being unfortunate, even if you speak like Demosthenes? What stops you from being miserable if you can solve syllogisms like Chrysippus? What stops you from feeling sorrow or envy, or, in short, from being troubled and unhappy? Nothing. You see, then, that these things were inns, worth nothing in themselves. Your goal was something else. When I say this to some people, they think I am dismissing the study of speaking or philosophical theories. But I am not dismissing that study. I am rejecting the habit of dwelling on these things endlessly and placing our hopes in them. If someone who teaches this harms those who listen, count me among those who do such harm. When I see what is best and highest, I cannot say that something else is, just to please you.
Chrysippus wrote a book on the resolution of Syllogisms. Diogenes Laertius (vii.) says that Chrysippus was very famous among Dialecticians. Most people thought that if the Gods used Dialectic, it would be no different from that of Chrysippus.
See Schweig.'s note on ἀκαταληκτικῶς.