1. Wouldst thou be good, then first believe that thou art evil.
1. If you want to be good, first believe that you are evil.
2. The beginning of philosophy, at least with those who lay hold of it as they ought and enter by the door, is the consciousness of their own feebleness and incapacity in respect of necessary things.
2. Philosophy begins, at least for those who approach it properly and enter through the door, with an awareness. They recognize their own weakness and inability to deal with life's essential matters.
“Enter by the door” (cf. S. John, x. 1). Similarities in thought and expression between Epictetus and the New Testament have often been noted. Readers will discover many others that I have not thought necessary to point out.
3. For we come into the world having by nature no idea of a right-angled triangle, or a quarter-tone, or a semi-tone, but by a certain tradition of art we learn each of these things. And thus those who know them not, do not suppose that they know them. But good and evil, and nobleness and baseness, and the seemly and the unseemly, and happiness and misfortune, and what is our concern and what is not, and what ought to be done and what not—who hath come into the world without an implanted notion of these things? Thus we all use these terms, and endeavor to fit our natural conceptions to every several thing. He did well, rightly, not rightly, he failed, he succeeded, he is unrighteous, he is righteous—which of us spareth to use terms like these? Which of us will defer the use of them till he hath learned them, even as ignorant men do not use terms of geometry or music? But this is the reason of it: we come into the world already, as it were, taught by Nature some things in this kind, and setting out from these things we have added thereto our own conceit. For how, saith one, do I not know what is noble and what is base? Have I not the notion of it? Truly. And do I not apply it to things severally? You do apply it. Do I not, then, apply it rightly? But here lies the whole question, and here conceit entereth in. For setting out from things confessed by all, they go on by a false application to that which is disputed. For if, in addition to those things, they had gained also this power of application, what would then hinder them to be perfect? But now since you think that you apply rightly the natural conceptions to things severally, tell me, whence have you this assurance?
3. We are born with no natural idea of a right-angled triangle, a quarter-tone, or a semitone. We learn each of these through instruction in a particular art. So those who do not know these things do not think they know them. But who is born without an inborn idea of good and evil, honor and shame, or proper and improper behavior? Who lacks such ideas about happiness and misfortune, what concerns us and what does not? Who lacks them about what we should and should not do? So we all use these terms and try to apply our natural ideas to each particular case. He did well, he acted rightly, he acted wrongly, he failed, he succeeded, he is unjust, he is just. Which of us holds back from using terms like these? Which of us waits until he has learned their meaning? People unfamiliar with geometry or music do wait before using those subjects’ terms. Here is the reason. We are born already taught by nature, so to speak, about some things of this kind. Starting from these things, we have added our own unfounded confidence. "How can I not know what is honorable and what is shameful?" someone asks. "Don’t I have an idea of it?" Certainly. "And don’t I apply it to particular cases?" You do. "Then don’t I apply it correctly?" But that is the whole question, and this is where unfounded confidence comes in. People start with things everyone agrees on. Then, by applying them wrongly, they reach conclusions that are disputed. If they had also gained the ability to apply these ideas correctly, what would keep them from being perfect? But as things stand, you think you apply your natural ideas correctly to particular cases. Tell me, where does this certainty come from?
“Conceit:” Greek οἴησις, German Einbildung.
——“Because it seems so to me.”
“Because that’s how it seems to me.”
But to another it seems otherwise—and he, too, doth he think his application right or not?
But someone else sees it differently. Does he, too, think his application is right or not?
——“He doth think it.”
“He does think it.”
Can ye, then, both be rightly applying the conceptions in matters wherein your opinions contradict each other?
Can you both be applying these concepts correctly, then, on matters where your opinions contradict each other?
——“We cannot.”
“We can’t.”
Have you, then, aught better to show for your application, or aught above this, that it seemeth so to you? But what else doth a madman do than those things that to him seem right? And doth this rule suffice for him?
Do you have anything better to show for your efforts than that it seems right to you? But what does a madman do except what seems right to him? And is this rule enough for him?
——“It doth not suffice.”
“It is not enough.”
Come, then, to that which is above seeming. What is this?
Turn, then, to what goes beyond appearances. What is it?
4. Behold, the beginning of philosophy is the observation of how men contradict each other, and the search whence cometh this contradiction, and the censure and mistrust of bare opinion. And it is an inquiry into that which seems, whether it rightly seems; and the discovery of a certain rule, even as we have found a balance for weights, and a plumb line for straight and crooked. This is the beginning of philosophy. Are all things right to all to whom they seem so? But how can contradictory things be right?
4. Look, philosophy begins by noticing how people contradict one another and asking where this contradiction comes from. It begins by criticizing and distrusting mere opinion. It asks whether what seems right really is right. It seeks a reliable standard, just as we have found scales for weighing and a plumb line for checking straightness. This is the beginning of philosophy. Is everything right for everyone who thinks it is? But how can contradictory things be right?
——“Nay, then, not all things, but those that seem to us right.”
“No, then, not all things, but those that seem right to us.”
And why to you more than the Syrians, or to the Egyptians? Why more than to me or to any other man? Not at all more. Seeming, then, doth not for every man answer to Being; for neither in weights or measures doth the bare appearance content us, but for each case we have discovered some rule. And here, then, is there no rule above seeming? And how could it be that there were no evidence or discovery of things the most necessary for men? There is, then, a rule. And wherefore do we not seek it, and find it, and, having found it, henceforth use it without transgression, and not so much as stretch forth a finger without it? For this it is, I think, that when it is discovered cureth of their madness those that mismeasure all things by seeming alone; so that henceforth, setting out from things known and investigated, we may use an organized body of natural conceptions in all our several dealings.
And why should your view count for more than the Syrians’ or the Egyptians’? Why more than mine or anyone else’s? It should count for no more at all. What seems true to each person, then, does not always match what is real. Even with weights and measures, we are not satisfied with appearances alone. We have found a standard for each case. Is there, then, no standard here beyond what seems true? How could there be no evidence or way to discover what people most need to know? There is, then, a standard. Why do we not seek it and find it? Once found, why do we not always follow it, never so much as lifting a finger without it? For I think discovering this standard cures the madness of those who judge all things by appearances alone. Then we can start from what is known and examined. We can use an organized set of natural concepts in all our dealings.
5. What is the subject about which we are inquiring? Pleasure? Submit it to the rule, cast it into the scales. Now the Good must be a thing of such sort that we ought to trust in it? Truly. And we ought to have faith in it? We ought. And ought we to trust in anything which is unstable? Nay. And hath pleasure any stability? It hath not. Take it, then, and fling it out of the scales, and set it far away from the place of the Good. But if you are dim of sight, and one balance doth not suffice, then take another. Is it right to be elated in what is good? Yea. And is it right to be elated then in the presence of a pleasure? See to it that thou say not it is right; or I shall not hold thee worthy even of the balance. Thus are things judged and weighed, when the rules are held in readiness. And the aim of philosophy is this, to examine and establish the rules. And to use them when they are known is the task of a wise and good man.
5. What are we examining? Pleasure? Test it against the standard, put it on the scales. Now, must the Good be something we can trust? Yes. And should we have faith in it? We should. And should we trust anything unstable? No. And is pleasure stable? It is not. Then take it and throw it off the scales. Put it far away from the Good. But if your eyesight is poor and one scale is not enough, take another. Is it right to be elated about what is good? Yes. Then is it right to be elated when you experience pleasure? Be careful not to say it is right. Otherwise, I will not consider you worthy even of using the scales. This is how things are judged and weighed when we have the standards ready. The aim of philosophy is to examine and establish those standards. Using them once they are known is the task of a wise and good person.
“To be elated:” ἐπαίρεσθαι. This could be translated as “to be puffed up,” but that expression always has a negative meaning. Yet one can be “elated” about anything that is truly good. The Stoics distinguished between χαρά, joy, and ἡδονή, pleasure. They did not reject or despise joy.