To a Rhetorician Going to Rome for a Lawsuit

When a certain person came to him, who was going up to Rome on account of a suit which had regard to his rank, Epictetus enquired the reason of his going to Rome, and the man then asked what he thought about the matter. Epictetus replied, If you ask me what you will do in Rome, whether you will succeed or fail, I have no rule (θεώρημα) about this. But if you ask me how you will fare, I can tell you: if you have right opinions (δόγματα), you will fare well; if they are false, you will fare ill. For to every man the cause of his acting is opinion. For what is the reason why you desired to be elected governor of the Cnossians? Your opinion. What is the reason that you are now going up to Rome? Your opinion. And going in winter, and with danger and expense.—I must go.—What tells you this? Your opinion. Then if opinions are the causes of all actions, and a man has bad opinions, such as the cause may be, such also is the effect. Have we then all sound opinions, both you and your adversary? And how do you differ? But have you sounder opinions than your adversary? Why? You think so. And so does he think that his opinions are better; and so do madmen. This is a bad criterion. But show to me that you have made some inquiry into your opinions and have taken some pains about them. And as now you are sailing to Rome in order to become governor of the Cnossians, and you are not content to stay at home with tho honours which you had, but you desire something greater and more conspicuous, so when did you ever make a voyage for the purpose of examining your own opinions, and casting them out, if you have any that are bad? Whom have you approached for this purpose? What time have you fixed for it? What age? Go over the times of your life by yourself, if you are ashamed of me (knowing the fact) when you were a boy, did you examine your own opinions? and did you not then, as you do all things now, do as you did do? and when you were become a youth and attended the rhetoricians, and yourself practised rhetoric, what did you imagine that you were deficient in? And when you were a young man and engaged in public matters, and pleaded causes yourself, and were gaining reputation, who then seemed your equal? And when would you have submitted to any man examining and showing that your opinions are bad? What then do you wish me to say to you?—Help me in this matter.—I have no theorem (rule) for this. Nor have you, if you came to me for this purpose, come to me as a philosopher, but as to a seller of vegetables or a shoemaker. For what purpose then have philosophers theorems? For this purpose, that whatever may happen, our ruling faculty may be and continue to be conformable to nature. Does this seem to you a small thing?—No; but the greatest.—What then? does it need only a short time? and is it possible to seize it as you pass by? If you can, seize it.

A man once came to Epictetus. He was going to Rome because of a legal dispute concerning his rank. Epictetus asked why he was going, and the man asked what he thought about the matter. Epictetus replied, “If you ask what you will do in Rome, whether you will succeed or fail, I have no rule (θεώρημα) for that. But if you ask how you will fare, I can tell you. If your opinions (δόγματα) are right, you will fare well. If they are false, you will fare badly. “For every man acts because of his opinions. Why did you want to be elected governor of the Cnossians? Because of your opinion. Why are you going to Rome now? Because of your opinion. And you are going in winter, despite the danger and expense.” “I must go.” “What tells you that? Your opinion. So if opinions cause all actions, and a man has bad opinions, the effects will be as bad as their cause. Do we all have sound opinions, both you and your opponent? Then how do you differ? But are your opinions sounder than your opponent’s? Why? You think they are. But he also thinks his opinions are better, and so do madmen. That is a poor test. “Show me that you have examined your opinions and taken some trouble over them. You are now sailing to Rome to become governor of the Cnossians. You are not content to stay home with the honors you already had. You want something greater and more conspicuous. But when have you ever made a journey to examine your opinions and get rid of any bad ones? Whom have you approached for that purpose? When have you set aside time for it? At what age? “Go over your life by yourself, if you are ashamed to let me know the truth. When you were a boy, did you examine your opinions? Or did you simply act as you pleased, just as you do everything now? And when you became a youth, studied under teachers of rhetoric, and practiced rhetoric yourself, what did you think you lacked? Later, as a young man, you took part in public affairs, argued cases yourself, and gained a reputation. Who then seemed your equal? And when would you have allowed anyone to examine your opinions and show that they were bad? “What, then, do you want me to say to you?” “Help me in this matter.” “I have no rule for that. If that is why you came to me, you did not come to me as a philosopher. You came as you would to a vegetable seller or a shoemaker. What, then, are philosophers’ rules for? They are meant to ensure that, whatever happens, our ruling faculty is and remains in accord with nature. Does that seem a small thing to you?” “No, it is the greatest thing.” “What then? Does it take only a little time? Can you seize it as you pass by? If you can, seize it.”

Then you will say, I met with Epictetus as I should meet with a stone or a statue: for you saw me, and nothing more. But he meets with a man as a man, who learns his opinions, and in his turn shows his own. Learn my opinions: show me yours; and then say that you have visited me. Let us examine one another: if I have any bad opinion, take it away: if you have any, show it. This is the meaning of meeting with a philosopher.—Not so, (you say): but this is only a passing visit, and while we are hiring the vessel, we can also see Epictetus. Let us see what he says. Then you go away and say: Epictetus was nothing; he used solecisms and spoke in a barbarous way. For of what else do you come as judges?—Well, but a man may say to me, if I attend to such matters⁴⁸⁵ (as you do), I shall have no land, as you have none; I shall have no silver cups as you have none, nor fine beasts as you have none.—In answer to this it is perhaps sufficient to say: I have no need of such things: but if you possess many things, you have need of others: whether you choose or not, you are poorer than I am. What then have I need of? Of that which you have not: of firmness, of a mind which is conformable to nature, of being free from perturbation. Whether I have a patron⁴⁸⁶ or not, what is that to me? but it is something to you. I am richer than you: I am not anxious what Caesar will think of me: for this reason, I flatter no man. This is what I possess instead of vessels of silver and gold. You have utensils of gold; but your discourse, your opinions, your assents, your movements (pursuits), your desires are of earthen ware. But when I have these things conformable to nature, why should I not employ my studies also upon reason? for I have leisure: my mind is not distracted. What shall I do, since I have no distraction? What more suitable to a man have I than this? When you have nothing to do, you are disturbed, you go to the theatre or you wander about without a purpose. Why should not the philosopher labour to improve his reason? You employ yourself about crystal vessels: I employ myself about the syllogism named the lying:⁴⁸⁷ you about myrrhine⁴⁸⁸ vessels; I employ myself about the syllogism named the denying (τοῦ ἀποφάσκοντος). To you every thing appears small that you possess: to me all that I have appears great. Your desire is insatiable: mine is satisfied. To (children) who put their hand into a narrow-necked earthen vessel and bring out figs and nuts, this happens; if they fill the hand, they cannot take it out, and then they cry. Drop a few of them and you will draw things out. And do you part with your desires: do not desire many things and you will have what you want.

Then you will say, “I met Epictetus as I would meet a stone or a statue.” You saw me, and nothing more. But you meet a man as a man when you learn his opinions and show him your own. Learn my opinions. Show me yours. Then say that you have visited me. Let us examine one another. If I have a bad opinion, take it away. If you have one, show it to me. That is what it means to meet a philosopher. “No,” you say. “This is only a passing visit. While we are hiring the ship, we can also see Epictetus. Let us see what he says.” Then you leave and say, “Epictetus was nothing. He made grammatical mistakes and spoke like a barbarian.” For what else have you come to judge? But someone may say to me, “If I pay attention to such matters⁴⁸⁵ as you do, I shall have no land, just as you have none. I shall have no silver cups or fine animals, just as you have none.” Perhaps it is enough to answer: I have no need of such things. But if you own many things, you need others. Whether you like it or not, you are poorer than I am. What, then, do I need? I need what you do not have: firmness, a mind in harmony with nature, and freedom from disturbance. Whether I have a patron⁴⁸⁶ or not, what difference does it make to me? But it makes a difference to you. I am richer than you. I am not anxious about what Caesar will think of me. For that reason, I flatter no one. This is what I have instead of silver and gold vessels. You have gold utensils. But your speech, opinions, judgments, pursuits, and desires are made of clay. But when these things are in harmony with nature, why should I not also study reasoning? I have leisure, and my mind is not distracted. What should I do, since nothing distracts me? What could be more fitting for a human being? When you have nothing to do, you become restless. You go to the theatre or wander around aimlessly. Why should the philosopher not work to improve his reasoning? You occupy yourself with crystal vessels. I occupy myself with the syllogism called the liar.⁴⁸⁷ You occupy yourself with myrrhine⁴⁸⁸ vessels. I occupy myself with the syllogism called the denier (τοῦ ἀποφάσκοντος). Everything you own seems small to you. Everything I have seems great to me. Your desire can never be satisfied. Mine is satisfied. Children put their hands into a narrow-necked clay jar to take out figs and nuts. If they fill their hands, they cannot pull them out, and then they cry. Drop a few, and you can pull the rest out. So give up some of your desires. Do not desire many things, and you will have what you want.