Book 3, Chapter 1

Fancy Clothing

10 min

A certain young man a rhetorician came to see Epictetus, with his hair dressed more carefully than was usual and his attire in an ornamental style; whereupon Epictetus said, Tell me if you do not think that some dogs are beautiful and some horses, and so of all other animals. I do think so, the youth replied. Are not then some men also beautiful and others ugly? Certainly. Do we then for the same reason call each of them in the same kind beautiful, or each beautiful for something peculiar? And you will judge of this matter thus. Since we see a dog naturally formed for one thing, and a horse for another, and for another still, as an example, a nightingale, we may generally and not improperly declare each of them to be beautiful then when it is most excellent according to its nature; but since the nature of each is different, each of them seems to me to be beautiful in a different way. Is it not so? He admitted that it was. That then which makes a dog beautiful, makes a horse ugly; and that which makes a horse beautiful, makes a dog ugly, if it is true that their natures are different. It seems to be so. For I think that what makes a Pancratiast beautiful, makes a wrestler to be not good, and a runner to be most ridiculous; and he who is beautiful for the Pentathlon, is very ugly for wrestling. It is so said he. What then makes a man beautiful? Is it that which in its kind makes both a dog and a horse beautiful? It is, he said. What then makes a dog beautiful? The possession of the excellence of a dog. And what makes a horse beautiful? The possession of the excellence of a horse. What then makes a man beautiful? Is it not the possession of the excellence of a man? And do you then, if you wish to be beautiful, young man, labour at this, the acquisition of human excellence. But what is this? Observe whom you yourself praise, when you praise many persons without partiality: do you praise the just or the unjust? The just. Whether do you praise the moderate or the immoderate? The moderate. And the temperate or the intemperate? The temperate. If then you make yourself such a person, you will know that you will make yourself beautiful: but so long as you neglect these things, you must be ugly (αἰσχρόν), even though you contrive all you can to appear beautiful.

A young rhetorician came to see Epictetus. His hair was more carefully styled than usual, and his clothes were ornamental. Epictetus said, “Tell me, don’t you think some dogs are beautiful and some horses are too? And isn’t the same true of all other animals?” “I do,” the young man replied. “Then aren’t some people beautiful and others ugly?” “Certainly.” “Do we call each kind beautiful for the same reason, or is each beautiful for a different reason? Here is how you can judge. We see that a dog is naturally suited for one thing, a horse for another, and a nightingale for yet another. Generally speaking, we can rightly call each beautiful when it is most excellent according to its nature. But since each has a different nature, each seems to me to be beautiful in a different way. Isn’t that so?” The young man agreed. “Then what makes a dog beautiful makes a horse ugly, and what makes a horse beautiful makes a dog ugly, if their natures are different.” “It seems so.” “For I think what makes a Pancratiast beautiful makes a wrestler poor and a runner utterly ridiculous. And someone who is beautiful for the Pentathlon is very ugly for wrestling.” “That’s true,” he said. “What, then, makes a person beautiful? Is it the same kind of thing that makes a dog or a horse beautiful?” “Yes,” he said. “What makes a dog beautiful?” “Having the excellence of a dog.” “And what makes a horse beautiful?” “Having the excellence of a horse.” “Then what makes a person beautiful? Isn’t it having the excellence of a human being? So, young man, if you want to be beautiful, work to acquire human excellence. “But what is human excellence? Notice whom you praise when you judge many people without favoritism. Do you praise the just or the unjust?” “The just.” “Do you praise the moderate or the immoderate?” “The moderate.” “And the temperate or the intemperate?” “The temperate.” “Then, if you make yourself such a person, you will know that you are making yourself beautiful. But as long as you neglect these things, you must be ugly (αἰσχρόν), even if you do everything you can to look beautiful.”

A Pancratiast is trained for the Pancratium, which combines boxing and wrestling. The Pentathlon included five exercises, expressed in one Greek line,

Further I do not know what to say to you: for if I say to you what I think, I shall offend you, and you will perhaps leave the school and not return to it: and if I do not say what I think, see how I shall be acting, if you come to me to be improved, and I shall not improve you at all, and if you come to me as to a philosopher, and I shall say nothing to you as a philosopher. And how cruel it is to you to leave you uncorrected. If at any time afterwards you shall acquire sense, you will with good reason blame me and say, What did Epictetus observe in me that when he saw me in such a plight coming to him in such a scandalous condition, he neglected me and never said a word? did he so much despair of me? was I not young? was I not able to listen to reason? and how many other young men at this age commit many like errors? I hear that a certain Polemon from being a most dissolute youth underwent such a great change. Well, suppose that he did not think that I should be a Polemon; yet he might have set my hair right, he might have stripped off my decorations, he might have stopped me from plucking the hair out of my body; but when he saw me dressed like—what shall I say?—he kept silent. I do not say like what; but you will say when you come to your senses, and shall know what it is, and what persons use such a dress.

I do not know what else to say to you. If I tell you what I think, I will offend you. Perhaps you will leave the school and never return. But consider how I would be acting if I kept my thoughts to myself. You come to me to improve, and I would not improve you at all. You come to me as a philosopher, and I would say nothing to you as a philosopher. How cruel it would be to leave you uncorrected. If you ever come to your senses, you will have good reason to blame me. You will say, What did Epictetus see in me? He saw me come to him in such a scandalous state, yet he neglected me and never said a word. Had he given up all hope for me? Was I not young? Could I not listen to reason? And how many other young men my age make many similar mistakes? I hear that a certain Polemon, once a very dissolute young man, changed greatly. Well, suppose Epictetus did not think I could become another Polemon. Even so, he could have set my hair right and stripped off my decorations. He could have stopped me from plucking the hair from my body. But he saw me dressed like, what shall I say? He kept silent. I will not say what you looked like. But you will say it when you come to your senses and understand what that dress means and who wears it.

If you bring this charge against me hereafter, what defence shall I make? Why, shall I say that the man will not be persuaded by me? Was Laius persuaded by Apollo? Did he not go away and get drunk and show no care for the oracle? Well then for this reason did Apollo refuse to tell him the truth? I indeed do not know, whether you will be persuaded by me or not; but Apollo knew most certainly that Laius would not be persuaded and yet he spoke. But why did he speak? I say in reply, But why is he Apollo, and why does he deliver oracles, and why has he fixed himself in this place as a prophet and source of truth and for the inhabitants of the world to resort to him? and why are the words Know yourself written in front of the temple, though no person takes any notice of them?

If you bring this charge against me later, how shall I defend myself? Shall I say that the man will not listen to me? Did Laius listen to Apollo? Didn't he go away, get drunk, and pay no attention to the oracle? But did Apollo refuse to tell him the truth for that reason? I do not know whether you will listen to me or not. But Apollo knew for certain that Laius would not listen, and yet he spoke. Why did he speak? I ask in reply: Why is he Apollo? Why does he deliver oracles? Why has he established himself in this place as a prophet and source of truth, for the world's inhabitants to consult? And why are the words Know yourself written on the front of the temple, though no one pays any attention to them?

Laius asked the oracle at Delphi how he could have children. The oracle told him not to have children, and to abandon them if he did. Laius was foolish enough to disobey the god in both ways. He had children and raised them. He did order his child Oedipus to be abandoned, but the boy was saved and later killed Laius.

Did Socrates persuade all his hearers to take care of themselves? Not the thousandth part. But however, after he had been placed in this position by the deity, as he himself says, he never left it. But what does he say even to his judges? "If you acquit me on these conditions that I no longer do that which I do now, I will not consent and I will not desist; but I will go up both to young and to old, and, to speak plainly, to every man whom I meet, and I will ask the questions which I ask now; and most particularly will I do this to you my fellow citizens, because you are more nearly related to me."—Are you so [2] curious, Socrates, and such a busy-body? and how does it concern you how we act? and what is it that you say? Being of the same community and of the same kin, you neglect yourself, and show yourself a bad citizen to the state, and a bad kinsman to your kinsmen, and a bad neighbour to your neighbours. Who then are you?—Here it is a great thing to say, "I am he whose duty it is to take care of men; for it is not every little heifer which dares to resist a lion; but if the bull comes up and resists him, say to the bull, if you choose, 'and who are you, and what business have you here?'" Man, in every kind there is produced something which excels; in oxen, in dogs, in bees, in horses. Do not then say to that which excels, Who then are you? If you do, it will find a voice in some way and say, I am such a thing as the purple in a garment: do not expect me to be like the others, or blame my nature that it has made me different from the rest of men.

Did Socrates persuade all his listeners to take care of themselves? Not even one in a thousand. But, as he himself says, the deity had put him in this position, and he never abandoned it. What does he say even to his judges? "If you acquit me on the condition that I stop doing what I do now, I will not agree. I will not stop. I will approach young and old alike. To put it plainly, I will approach everyone I meet and ask the same questions I ask now. I will do this especially to you, my fellow citizens, because you are more closely related to me." Are you so [2] curious, Socrates, such a busybody? What business is it of yours how we act? And what are you saying? We belong to the same community and are related, yet you neglect yourself. You show yourself to be a bad citizen to the state, a bad kinsman to your kinsmen, and a bad neighbor to your neighbors. Who are you, then? Here it is a great thing to say, "I am the one whose duty it is to take care of people. Not every little heifer dares to stand up to a lion. But if the bull comes forward and stands up to the lion, say to the bull, if you like, 'And who are you, and what business do you have here?'" My friend, every kind of creature produces something that excels, whether oxen, dogs, bees, or horses. So do not ask the one who excels, Who are you, then? If you do, that one will somehow find a voice and say, I am like the purple in a garment. Do not expect me to be like the others, or blame my nature for making me different from other people.

Plato, Apology, i. 9, etc. and c. 17.

i. 2. note 4.

What then? am I such a man? Certainly not. And are you such a man as can listen to the truth? I wish you were. But however since in a manner I have been condemned to wear a white beard and a cloak, and you come to me as to a philosopher, I will not treat you in a cruel way nor yet as if I despaired of you, but I will say, Young man, whom do you wish to make beautiful? In the first place, know who you are and then adorn yourself appropriately. You are a human being; and this is a mortal animal which has the power of using appearances rationally. But what is meant by 'rationally'? Conformably to nature and completely. What then do you possess which is peculiar? Is it the animal part? No. Is it the condition of mortality? No. Is it the power of using appearances? No. You possess the rational faculty as a peculiar thing: adorn and beautify this; but leave your hair to him who made it as he chose. Come, what other appellations have you? Are you man or woman? Man. Adorn yourself then as man, not as woman. Woman is naturally smooth and delicate; and if she has much hair (on her body), she is a monster and is exhibited at Rome among monsters. And in a man it is monstrous not to have hair; and if he has no hair, he is a monster; but if he cuts off his hairs and plucks them out, what shall we do with him? where shall we exhibit him? and under what name shall we show him? I will exhibit to you a man who chooses to be a woman rather than a man. What a terrible sight! There is no man who will not wonder at such a notice. Indeed I think that the men who pluck out their hairs do what they do without knowing what they do. Man what fault have you to find with your nature? That it made you a man? What then? was it fit that nature should make all human creatures women? and what advantage in that case would you have had in being adorned? for whom would you have adorned yourself, if all human creatures were women? But you are not pleased with the matter: set to work then upon the whole business. Take away—what is its name?—that which is the cause of the hairs: make yourself a woman in all respects, that we may not be mistaken: do not make one half man, and the other half woman. Whom do you wish to please? The women? Please them as a man. Well; but they like smooth men. Will you not hang yourself? and if women took delight in catamites, would you become one? Is this Is this your business? were you born for this purpose, that dissolute women should delight in you? Shall we make such a one as you a citizen of Corinth and perchance a praefect of the city, or chief of the youth, or general or superintendent of the games? Well, and when you have taken a wife, do you intend to have your hairs plucked out? To please whom and for what purpose? And when you have begotten children, will you introduce them also into the state with the habit of plucking their hairs? A beautiful citizen, and senator and rhetorician. We ought to pray that such young men be born among us and brought up.

Well then, am I such a man? Certainly not. And are you the kind of man who can listen to the truth? I wish you were. But in a way, I have been condemned to wear a white beard and a cloak. And you come to me as a philosopher. So I will not treat you cruelly or as if I had given up on you. Instead, I will say: Young man, whom do you want to make beautiful? First, know who you are. Then adorn yourself accordingly. You are a human being, a mortal animal capable of using appearances rationally. But what does ‘rationally’ mean? It means in accordance with nature and completely. What is unique to you, then? Is it your animal nature? No. Is it your mortality? No. Is it your ability to use appearances? No. What is unique to you is your capacity for reason. Adorn and beautify that, but leave your hair to the one who made it as he chose. Come now, what else are you called? Are you a man or a woman? A man. Then adorn yourself as a man, not as a woman. A woman is naturally smooth and delicate. If she has a lot of body hair, she is a monster and is exhibited among monsters in Rome. And in a man, it is monstrous to have no hair. If he has no hair, he is a monster. But if he cuts off his hair and plucks it out, what should we do with him? Where should we exhibit him? And under what name should we show him? I will show you a man who chooses to be a woman rather than a man. What a terrible sight! There is no man who would not be amazed by such an announcement. Indeed, I think that men who pluck out their hair do so without knowing what they are doing. Man, what fault do you find with your nature? That it made you a man? Well then, should nature have made all human beings women? And what advantage would you have had in adorning yourself then? For whom would you have adorned yourself, if all human beings were women? But you are not pleased with the way things are. Then finish the whole job. Remove, what is it called, the thing that causes the hair. Make yourself a woman in every respect, so that we are not mistaken. Do not make one half a man and the other half a woman. Whom do you want to please? Women? Please them as a man. Well, but they like smooth men. Why do you not hang yourself? And if women took delight in catamites, would you become one? Is that your job? Were you born so that dissolute women could take delight in you? Should we make someone like you a citizen of Corinth? Perhaps we should make you prefect of the city, chief of the youth, general, or superintendent of the games. And when you have taken a wife, do you intend to have your hair plucked out? To please whom, and for what purpose? And when you have had children, will you bring them into the state with the same habit of plucking their hair? What a fine citizen, senator, and orator you are. We ought to pray that such young men are born and raised among us.

Cicero, de Fin. ii. 11: Horace, Epp. i. 10, 12. Zeno's great principle was to live according to nature. In the Preface to his Sermons, Bishop Butler discusses this philosophical principle that virtue consists in following nature. He calls it "a manner of speaking not loose and undeterminate, but clear and distinct, strictly just and true."

All animals can simply use objects (appearances). Only humans can use them rationally. Mrs. Carter, Introd. § 7.

ὅλον δι’ ὅλων αὐτὸ ποίησον. Wolf proposed a correction that Schweighaeuser did not include in his Greek text, but did express in his Latin translation. The Greek makes sense if we look at what follows.

Do not so, I intreat you by the Gods, young man: but when you have once heard these words, go away and say to yourself, 'Epictetus has not said this to me; for how could he? but some propitious God through him: for it would never have come into his thoughts to say this, since he is not accustomed to talk thus with any person. Come then let us obey God, that we may not be subject to his anger.' You say, No. But (I say), if a crow by his croaking signifies any thing to you, it is not the crow which signifies, but God through the crow; and if he signifies any thing through a human voice, will he not cause the man to say this to you, that you may know the power of the divinity, that he signifies to some in this way, and to others in that way, and concerning the greatest things and the chief he signifies through the noblest messenger? What else is it which the poet says:

Please do not do that, young man, I beg you by the gods. Instead, once you have heard these words, go away and say to yourself, 'Epictetus did not say this to me. How could he? Rather, some friendly god spoke through him. Epictetus would never have thought to say this, since he does not usually speak this way to anyone. Come, then, let us obey God, so that we do not incur his anger.' You say no. But if a crow means something to you by its croaking, it is not the crow giving you a sign. It is God speaking through the crow. And if God gives a sign through a human voice, will he not make the person say this to you? In this way you can know the power of the divine: God gives signs to some in one way and to others in another. And for the greatest and most important things, he gives signs through the noblest messenger. What else does the poet mean when he says:

For we ourselves have warned him, and have sent. Hermes the careful watcher, Argus' slayer, The husband not to kill nor wed the wife.

For we ourselves warned him and sent Hermes, the careful watcher and slayer of Argus, to tell him not to kill the husband or marry the wife.

From the Odyssey, i. 37, where Zeus speaks of Aegisthus.

Was Hermes going to descend from heaven to say this to him (Aegisthus)? And now the Gods say this to you and send the messenger, the slayer of Argus, to warn you not to pervert that which is well arranged, nor to busy yourself about it, but to allow a man to be a man, and a woman to be a woman, a beautiful man to be as a beautiful man, and an ugly man as an ugly man, for you are not flesh and hair, but you are will (προαίρεσις); and if your will is beautiful, then you will be beautiful. But up to the present time I dare not tell you that you are ugly, for I think that you are readier to hear anything than this. But see what Socrates says to the most beautiful and blooming of men Alcibiades: Try then to be beautiful. What does he say to him? Dress your hair and pluck the hairs from your legs? Nothing of that kind. But adorn your will, take away bad opinions. How with the body? Leave it as it is by nature. Another has looked after these things: intrust them to him. What then, must a man be uncleaned? Certainly not; but what you are and are made by nature, cleanse this. A man should be cleanly as a man, a woman as a woman, a child as a child. You say no: but let us also pluck out the lion's mane, that he may not be uncleaned, and the cock's comb for he also ought to be cleaned. Granted, but as a cock, and the lion as a lion, and the hunting dog as a hunting dog.

Was Hermes going to come down from heaven to tell Aegisthus this? Even now, the Gods are telling you the same thing. They send their messenger, the slayer of Argus, to warn you not to distort what is well arranged. Do not meddle with it, but let a man be a man and a woman be a woman. Let a beautiful man be a beautiful man, and an ugly man be an ugly man. For you are not flesh and hair. You are will (προαίρεσις), and if your will is beautiful, you will be beautiful. But I still dare not tell you that you are ugly. I think you are more willing to hear anything else. But see what Socrates says to Alcibiades, the most beautiful and youthful of men: Try to be beautiful. What does he mean? Does he tell him to style his hair and pluck the hair from his legs? Nothing of the kind. Instead, he tells him to adorn his will and rid himself of bad opinions. What about the body? Leave it as nature made it. Someone else has taken care of these things, so entrust them to him. Does this mean a man should be dirty? Certainly not. But clean yourself as the person nature made you. A man should be clean as a man, a woman as a woman, and a child as a child. You say no. Then let us also pluck out the lion's mane so that he will not be dirty. And let us pluck out the rooster's comb, for he too should be clean. Granted, but let the rooster be clean as a rooster, the lion as a lion, and the hunting dog as a hunting dog.