Book 2, Chapter 24
To (or Against) Someone He Did Not Esteem
A certain person said to him (Epictetus): Frequently I desired to hear you and came to you, and you never gave me any answer: and now, if it is possible, I intreat you to say something to me. Do you think, said Epictetus, that as there is an art in any thing else, so there is also an art in speaking, and that he who has the art, will speak skilfully, and he who has not, will speak unskilfully?—I do think so.—He then who by speaking receives benefit himself, and is able to benefit; others, will speak skilfully: but he who is rather damaged by speaking and does damage to others, will he be unskilled in this art of speaking? And you may find that some are damaged and others benefited by speaking. And are all who hear benefited by what they hear? Or will you find that among them also some are benefited and some damaged?—There are both among these also, he said.—In this case also then those who hear skilfully are benefited, and those who hear unskilfully are damaged? He admitted this. Is there then a skill in hearing also, as there is in speaking?—It seems so.—If you choose, consider the matter in this way also. The practice of music, to whom does it belong? To a musician. And the proper making of a statue, to whom do you think that it belongs? To a statuary. And the looking at a statue skilfully, does this appear to you to require the aid of no art?—This also requires the aid of art.—Then if speaking properly is the business of the skilful man, do you see that to hear also with benefit is the business of the skilful man? Now as to speaking and hearing perfectly, and usefully, let us for the present, if you please, say no more, for both of us are a long way from every thing of the kind. But I think that every man will allow this, that he who is going to hear philosophers requires some amount of practice in hearing. Is it not so?
A man said to Epictetus: I have often wanted to hear you speak and have come to you. But you never gave me an answer. Now, if possible, I beg you to say something to me. Epictetus said: Do you think speaking is an art, like any other? And do you think someone who knows the art will speak skillfully, while someone who does not will speak unskillfully? The man said he did. Then someone who benefits himself and can benefit others by speaking will speak skillfully. But what about someone who is harmed by speaking and harms others? Would he not be unskilled in the art of speaking? You can see that some people are harmed by speaking, while others benefit from it. And do all listeners benefit from what they hear? Or will you find that some are benefited and others harmed? The man said there were both kinds among listeners too. Then here too, those who listen skillfully benefit, while those who listen unskillfully are harmed? He agreed. So is there a skill in listening, just as there is in speaking? It seems so, he replied. If you like, consider it this way too. Who practices music? A musician. And who properly makes a statue? A sculptor. And does looking at a statue skillfully seem to require no art? It requires art too, he replied. Then, if speaking properly is the work of a skilled person, do you see that listening with benefit also requires skill? For now, if you please, let us say no more about speaking and listening perfectly and usefully. Both of us are a long way from anything of the kind. But I think everyone will agree that anyone who intends to listen to philosophers needs some practice in listening. Is that not so?
'In other words, let us not consider now whether I am a perfect speaker or whether your mind is prepared to benefit from philosophical discussion. Let us consider only whether you are ready to listen and can understand a philosophical discussion.' Schweig.
Tell me then about what I should talk to you: about what matter are you able to listen?—About good and evil.—Good and evil in what? In a horse? No. Well, in an ox? No. What then? In a man? Yes. Do we know then what a man is, what the notion is which we have of him, or have we our ears in any degree practised about this matter? But do you understand what nature is? or can you even in any degree understand me when I say, I shall use demonstration to you? How? Do you understand this very thing, what demonstration is, or how any thing is demonstrated, or by what means; or what things are like demonstration, but are not demonstration? Do you know what is true or what is false? What is consequent on a thing, what is repugnant to a thing, or not consistent, or inconsistent? But must I excite you to philosophy, and how? Shall I show to you the repugnance in the opinions of most men, through which they differ about things good and evil, and about things which are profitable and unprofitable, when you know not this very thing, what repugnance (contradiction) is? Show me then what I shall accomplish by discoursing with you: excite my inclination to do this. As the grass which is suitable, when it is presented to a sheep, moves its inclination to eat, but if you present to it a stone or bread, it will not be moved to eat; so there are in us certain natural inclinations also to speak, when the hearer shall appear to be somebody, when he himself shall excite us: but when he shall sit by us like a stone or like grass, how can he excite a man's desire (to speak)? Does the vine say to the husbandman, Take care of me? No, but the vine by showing in itself that it will be profitable to the husbandman, if he does take care of it, invites him to exercise care. When children are attractive and lively, whom do they not invite to play with them, and crawl with them, and lisp with them? But who is eager to play with an ass or to bray with it? for though it is small, it is still a little ass.
Tell me, then, what should I talk to you about? What subject are you able to listen to? Good and evil? Good and evil in what? In a horse? No. In an ox, then? No. In what, then? In a human being? Yes. Do we know what a human being is, or what idea we have of one? Have we even had any practice listening to discussions about this? Do you understand what nature is? Can you understand me at all when I say I will demonstrate something to you? How? Do you even understand what a demonstration is, or how something is demonstrated, or by what means? Do you know what resembles a demonstration but is not one? Do you know what is true or false? Do you know what follows from something, or what contradicts it or is incompatible or inconsistent with it? But must I stir your interest in philosophy? And how? Shall I show you the contradictions in most people's opinions? These contradictions lead them to disagree about good and evil, and about what is beneficial and what is not. But you do not even know what a contradiction is. So show me what I can accomplish by talking with you. Give me a reason to want to do it. When a sheep is offered grass that suits it, the grass stirs its desire to eat. But offer it a stone or bread, and it will not want to eat. In the same way, we have natural inclinations to speak when a listener seems worth speaking to. The listener himself stirs that desire in us. But when he sits beside us like a stone or a blade of grass, how can he stir anyone's desire to speak? Does the vine say to the farmer, “Take care of me”? No. But the vine shows that it will be profitable to the farmer if he cares for it. In this way, it invites his care. When children are charming and lively, who would not want to play, crawl, and lisp with them? But who is eager to play with a donkey or bray with it? Though it is small, it is still a little donkey.
See Schweig.'s note.
Why then do you say nothing to me? I can only say this to you, that he who knows not who he is, and for what purpose he exists, and what is this world, and with whom he is associated, and what things are the good and the bad, and the beautiful and the ugly, and who neither understands discourse nor demonstration, nor what is true nor what is false, and who is not able to distinguish them, will neither desire according to nature nor turn away nor move towards, nor intend (to act), nor assent, nor dissent nor suspend his judgment: to say all in a few words, he will go about dumb and blind, thinking that he is somebody, but being nobody. Is this so now for the first time? Is it not the fact that ever since the human race existed, all errors and misfortunes have arisen through this igno rance? Why did Agamemnon and Achilles quarrel with one another? Was it not through not knowing what things are profitable and not profitable? Does not the one say it is profitable to restore Chryseis to her father, and does not the other say that it is not profitable? does not the one say that he ought to take the prize of another, and does not the other say that he ought not? Did they not for these reasons forget, both who they were and for what purpose they had come there? Oh, man, for what purpose did you come? to gain mistresses or to fight? To fight. With whom? the Trojans or the Hellenes? With the Trojans. Do you then leave Hector alone and draw your sword against your own king? And do you, most excellent Sir, neglect the duties of the king, you who are the people's guardian and have such cares; and are you quarrelling about a little girl with the most warlike of your allies, whom you ought by every means to take care of and protect? and do you become worse than (inferior to) a well behaved priest who treats you these fine gladiators with all respect? Do you see what kind of things ignorance of what is profitable does?
Why, then, do you say nothing to me? I can only say this. A person may not know who he is, why he exists, what this world is, or whom he lives among. He may not know what is good or bad, beautiful or ugly. He may understand neither reasoning nor proof, nor what is true or false, and be unable to tell them apart. Such a person will not desire or avoid things, pursue them or intend to act, in accordance with nature. Nor will he assent, dissent, or suspend judgment in accordance with nature. In short, he will go about dumb and blind, thinking he is somebody when he is nobody. Is this happening for the first time now? Haven’t all errors and misfortunes arisen from this ignorance ever since the human race began? Why did Agamemnon and Achilles quarrel? Wasn’t it because they did not know what was beneficial and what was not? Didn’t one say it was beneficial to return Chryseis to her father, while the other said it was not? Didn’t one say he should take another man’s prize, while the other said he should not? For these reasons, didn’t they forget both who they were and why they had come there? Man, why did you come? To gain mistresses or to fight? To fight. Against whom? The Trojans or the Hellenes? The Trojans. So do you leave Hector alone and draw your sword against your own king? And you, most excellent sir, are you neglecting your duties as king? You are the guardian of the people and have such responsibilities. Yet you quarrel over a little girl with the most warlike of your allies. You ought to care for and protect him by every means. Are you behaving worse than a good priest who treats you fine gladiators with all respect? Do you see what ignorance of what is beneficial can do?
But I also am rich. Are you then richer than Agamemnon? But I am also handsome. Are you then more handsome than Achilles? But I have also beautiful hair. But had not Achilles more beautiful hair and gold coloured? and he did not comb it elegantly nor dress it. But I am also strong. Can you then lift so great a stone as Hector or Ajax? But I am also of noble birth. Are you the son of a goddess mother? are you the son of a father sprung from Zeus? What good then do these things do to him, when he sits and weeps for a girl? But I am an orator. And was he not? Do you not see how he handled the most skilful of the Hellenes in oratory, Odysseus and Phoenix? how he stopped their mouths?
But I am rich too. Are you richer than Agamemnon? But I am handsome too. Are you more handsome than Achilles? But I have beautiful hair too. Didn’t Achilles have more beautiful, golden hair? Yet he did not comb or style it elegantly. But I am strong too. Can you lift a stone as large as Hector or Ajax could? But I am of noble birth too. Is your mother a goddess? Is your father descended from Zeus? What good do these things do Achilles when he sits and weeps for a girl? But I am a skilled speaker. Wasn’t Achilles one too? Don’t you see how he dealt with Odysseus and Phoenix, the most skilled Hellenes at speaking? How he silenced them?
In the ninth book of the Iliad, Achilles answers the messengers Agamemnon sent to him. His reply is a wonderful example of eloquence.
This is all that I have to say to you; and I say even this not willingly. Why? Because you have not roused me. For what must I look to in order to be roused, as men who are expert in riding are roused by generous horses? Must I look to your body? You treat it disgracefully. To your dress? That is luxurious. To your behaviour, to your look? That is the same as nothing. When you would listen to a philosopher, do not say to him, You tell me nothing; but only show yourself worthy of hearing or fit for hearing; and you will see how you will move the speaker.
That is all I have to say to you, and I say even that reluctantly. Why? Because you have not inspired me. What am I to look at for inspiration, as skilled riders are inspired by spirited horses? Your body? You treat it disgracefully. Your clothes? They are luxurious. Your behavior or your appearance? They are as good as nothing. When you come to listen to a philosopher, do not say, “You tell me nothing.” Just show that you are worthy and fit to listen. Then you will see how you can inspire the speaker.