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Listening to the Philosophers: Part II

Listening to the Philosophers
Part II
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Notes

table of contents
  1. Foreword
  2. Acknowledgments
  3. A Note on References and Abbreviations
  4. Introduction: Orality and Note-Taking
  5. Part I: Ancient Annotations in Context
    1. 1. Notes and Notetakers
    2. 2. Taking Notes in Class
    3. 3. Students’ Annotations in Philosophy
    4. 4. Notae of Stenographers
  6. Part II: The Voice of Epictetus
    1. 5. Epictetus as an Educator and a Man
    2. 6. Epictetus and the World of Culture
  7. Part III: Recording Lectures of Philosophers
    1. 7. Introduction: Ancient Commentaries
    2. 8. Notes from Athens: Philodemus On Frank Criticism
    3. 9. Taking Notes in the School of Didymus the Blind
    4. 10. Listening to Olympiodorus
  8. Conclusion: The Authentic Philosopher’s Voice
  9. References
  10. Index

Part II

The Voice of Epictetus

Come, have you not received faculties that enable you to bear whatever happens? Have you not received magnanimity? Have you not received courage? Have you not received endurance? And why should I care any longer for anything that may happen if I am magnanimous? What will upset me or disturb me or seem grievous? Shall I fail to use my faculty to that end for which I have received it but groan instead and lament over events as they occur? “Yes, but my nose is running.” Why do you have hands, slave? Is it not that you may wipe your nose? Is it reasonable then that there should be running noses in the world? And how much better would it be for you to wipe your nose than to find fault? Or what do you think that Heracles would have amounted to if there would not have been a lion like the one he encountered and a hydra, and a stag and a boar and wicked and brutal men whom he drove out and cleared away?

—Diss. 1.6.28–33

Remember that it is not only desire for office and wealth that makes one low and subservient to others but also desire for peace, leisure, travel, and scholarship … For just as salutations and office holding are among things that are external and without a moral purpose, so also is a book. Why do you want to read? Tell me. If you turn to reading only for amusement or to learn something, you are indifferent and lazy. But if you engage yourself with proper reading what else is this but a happy life?

—Diss. 4.4.4

The Stoic philosopher and educator Epictetus flourished at the end of the first century and the beginning of the second, until around 110 CE.1 He was born around 50 or 60 in Hierapolis (Phrygia) and became the slave of Epaphroditus, secretary of Nero. He never married and never had a family. On leaving Rome he established a school of philosophy in Nicopolis in Epirus and produced eight volumes of his Discourses (diatribai, lectures), of which only four survive. In addition, a synthetic Handbook (Encheiridion) has been transmitted. My account of the school of Epictetus is focused on the Discourses but also takes into account at least some of the Encheiridion, due to its vast popularity across the centuries. When he was a student, the future provincial governor and historian Lucius Flavius Arrianus (Arrian) of Nicomedia assembled the Encheiridion as a compendium of Epictetus’s philosophy, drawing on his teaching but at the same time introducing some modifications. It is useful to have le tout Epictetus, whose force becomes somewhat attenuated in the larger oeuvre amid a host of issues. At the same time, a slow perusal of the Encheiridion is necessary, even if in that text the philosopher appears almost to suffocate under the weight of his sayings. Two examples of his teaching philosophy are in the epigraphs above.

As indicated in the excerpts, Epictetus often insists that enduring difficulties is imperative and that men have both physical and moral faculties to withstand adversity. The argument was popular in later Stoicism, but here, Epictetus adapts it to his educational principles. He berates his whining students, whom he calls “slaves,” claiming that they are passive and deaf to the message of philosophy. Human beings possess reason with which they make choices and act.

Ethics, moral philosophy, needs to structure a person’s life. This, rather than knowledge per se, was the aim of Epictetus’s philosophical training. The first two extant books of notes show that his teaching, at least at the beginning, was intended to form his students without providing or increasing a knowledge of literature and philosophy. The highest aim and goal to achieve was eudaimonia—happiness, specifically the happiness of a life well lived.2 Epictetus notes that human virtue is a condition of the mind and declares that students who left home only to read more books in his school should return home (1.4.22). Externals (sometimes called “indifferents”) are outside one’s power, and renouncing externals means to practice removing sorrow, disappointment, and fear of death from one’s life. Progress meant turning one’s attention to moral character, but real progress needed to be distinguished from delusive progress. The Stoic philosopher should not complain about what happens but find his happiness in the thought of having done the best.

Before entering Epictetus’s classes, it may be good to see how he devised three areas of studies in which people who aimed at being good had to be trained (Diss. 3.2.1–2). These topoi concerned desire, duty, and judgment:

The first has to do with desires and hate, so that he does obtain what he desires but never falls into what he avoids. The second concerns choice and refusal and generally with duty, so that he may act with order and good reason and not carelessly. The third is about avoidance of error and rashness in judgement.

The Discourses of Epictetus have often been referred to as diatribai, sermons of a type associated with Cynic philosophy. This term, however, should be understood to refer mostly to Epictetus’s style of teaching, even if observations on Cynic philosophy are sometimes present. We should keep in mind that the extant Discourses in their current form transmit only a part of Epictetus’s message, as four books have been lost. Thus it is possible that the most technical and theoretical details of the philosopher’s teaching are missing. Though his philosophical background is not simple to define, Epictetus inherited the main lines of his thoughts on ethical theory from the Stoic tradition.3 His distinction between things “up to us” and “things not up to us” refers to exercising choice, prohairesis. However, there are very few remains of the doctrines of the Stoics (e.g., Zeno) from the fourth and third centuries BCE. Therefore we do not have direct knowledge of their teaching and depend on writers of the imperial period, notably Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, who reflect indirectly the doctrines of the earlier Stoics. Prior to their writings, there are only literary and nontechnical philosophical testimonies, paraphrases, and quotations.4

Epictetus was neither the founder of a school of thought nor a significant innovator, yet he attained formidable status as a thinker both in antiquity and in modernity. Adolf Bonhöffer strongly upheld the idea of Epictetus’s orthodoxy, but recently scholars have recognized in him certain innovations.5 Anthony Long, who read and wrote about the philosopher with deep understanding, said on this topic, “In times of stress, as modern Epictetans have attested, his recommendations make their presence felt.”6 Epictetus has been one of the most widely read philosophers across the centuries,7 and two major reasons for his popularity must have been the efficiency of his communication and the fact that his message was mostly accessible, even if difficult to digest. In the turbulent times in which we are now living, nonspecialists find comfort in his maxims, which can teach them how to cope with difficulties. However, Epictetus was not only a philosopher but also a formidable educator in close contact with many aspects of life.

Epictetus was a deeply admired figure. There are several examples describing how people from other countries sought his help to not only defend themselves from sorrows but also allow themselves to feel some joy after sorrow had been endured and conquered.8 A particular episode describes an official visiting Epictetus, talking about his family, and declaring that for him his children are a source of great anxiety rather than pleasure. In this tense conversation, the interlocutor exhibits authentic anguish and concerns, and he reveals that when his little daughter was extremely sick, he could not bear to stay by her side but deserted her and returned only when he was told that she had recovered. While the man argues that his behavior had been natural and logical for a father, Epictetus instead explains how unnatural and irrational his behavior had been. Employing an example more typical of Socrates, Epictetus compares the official to someone in Rome who, too nervous to follow his favorite horse as it competed in a race, covered his head and refused to watch. When people informed this man that the horse had unexpectedly won, he fainted and had to be revived.9 At the end of the passage, Epictetus describes a possibility that the little girl’s father might be suited to become a student.

Epictetus was a practical thinker who rarely tried to solve issues only theoretically. His capacity to identify with those who consulted him made his interventions efficacious. When we read him, we still perceive the charm and power of his message but are also made aware that people in antiquity, as now, could receive his message at two different levels. On one hand, Epictetus deals with a range of practical issues, such as loss of property, sexuality, table manners, and family interactions. On the other, Epictetus discusses ethics, theology, and freedom. On both, though, he exhibits striking authenticity when he analyzes the mind’s strengths and limitations, as well as those educational practices that can make young men grow into strong human beings.

Passionate, intense, and determined, Epictetus sought to reach people deeply and convince them of the necessity of demanding the best from themselves. He aimed to make his audience understand what is important in life, urging them to pursue it. Everything else, he argued, is superfluous. Sorrows, envy, and fear of death are not supposed to leave their marks on one’s psyche; rather, the functions of a human being are to reason and to become a citizen of the world. Some of Epictetus’s pronouncements have been described as “repellent,” promoting distance from family, children, and wives, so that one would not feel bereft in the face of adversity.10 The rationale behind these pronouncements is indicative of Epictetus’s style—informed by rhetoric and diatribe with the determination to follow an argument to its very core.11 Alternatively, emotional statements like these need to be considered in context, and the background context available to us is limited. Self-deprecation is key to understanding some of Epictetus’s statements. He declared that his students had to forgive an old man and that people laughed at his style of speaking.

Life offered occasions for enjoyment, delusions, and laughter, and even there a philosopher might offer help: protecting men from disappointments and excessive expectations was one of Epictetus’s main objectives. In some passages his attention was focused on shows and banquets, creating a protective cage for the participants. At the public shows, people needed to defend themselves from frustration, “to wish only for that to happen which does happen.”12 In other words, the prudent man could afford a limited degree of participation free from pangs of anxiety. Epictetus also advised that shouting, laughing, and rowdy behavior after the show should be avoided. This suggests that he participated in spectacles and everyday life, but with a critical eye and a desire to help.

Guests at banquets had to respect some rules of behavior. Epictetus’s observant eyes followed the guest who was disappointed by being assigned a less honored place at the table or even by the lack of an invitation. This man needed to consider that there was a price for the invitation: praise for and personal attention to the host. In addition, the guest who tried to grab a plate needed to learn to observe proper table manners, wait for his turn when the plate was in front of him, and not try to detain it when it moved away.13 Thus patience and detachment without gluttony were to be observed (with regard to food and desire), and stretching the hand with impatience to receive one’s portion needed to be an exercise in politeness. In this vein, Epictetus provides us with courteous vignettes of civility, illustrating his attention to the details of human conduct. In his writing he challenges a world where being preeminent was of fundamental importance, and the norm was to prevail over others, be admired, and raise one’s voice.

Epictetus often reacted strongly to those whose pride extended to their physical aspects, their sharp minds, and their arrogant characters. Yet sometimes his virtue of toleration extended to the acceptance of some such qualities. For example, a philosopher who remarked on people’s bad comportment at a banquet was not supposed to reproach them directly and tell them how they should behave but should instead inspire them through his own good example.14 It is clear, though, that the banquet should be understood metaphorically, and in fact, his behavior will “make him worthy of the banquet of the gods.”

Many actions of Epictetus were inspired by restraint and control. He always applied the term “philosopher” to himself with great reticence. Like Socrates he sought to avoid ostentation. A philosopher needed to refrain from expounding on his philosophical principles among people who were discussing them, lest he look like an amateur and spew out something that was not completely digested. From Epictetus, it appears that some philosophers gave themselves grand airs, and that the profession was looked on as desirable.15 A lecture by an influential philosopher could inspire in people the desire to become philosophers themselves. “Do you have a natural talent for that?” asked Epictetus, suggesting that a philosopher was born a philosopher. Just as a wrestler needed strong arms and thighs, a philosopher had to have a strong predisposition for the job, to work hard, to not give way to impulse and irritation, and to be ready to get the worst of everything in honor, in office, or in court. At the price of these things, however, the philosopher had tranquility, freedom, and peace.

In a rare moment of disclosure, we see Epictetus confronting his vocation as a philosopher after telling the story of an athlete who had chosen to die rather than cutting off his genitals, which would have prevented his demise (1.2.25–29). And yet Epictetus remarks that another would have chosen to have his neck cut off if he could have lived without his neck. At this, someone interjects, “Come, Epictetus, shave off your beard.” “I reply: if I am a philosopher, I will not shave it off.”16 “But I will cut off your neck.” “If that will do you any good, then do so!” In a chapter centered on being clean and presenting oneself with dignity, Epictetus remarks on young prospective philosophers’ lack of care for their bodies (4.11.28). They come to him like pigs that enjoy rolling in mud: they stink and are dirty. There is a flash of humor: the image of one young man with his moustache reaching down to his knees.17

The great reputation Epictetus had in his time was also due to his unique character and personality that easily attracted the attention of his contemporaries. The image and references that Lucian left of him are full of deference.18 There is no way of knowing whether Lucian had known Epictetus personally, and it is possible that the satirist’s image of the “lamp of Epictetus” may have acquired a life of its own. In one of his diatribes, The Ignorant Book Collector, Lucian mentions an “earthenware lamp of Epictetus.” Here, someone who wanted to acquire the wisdom of the Stoic philosopher was forced to spend a fortune to purchase this prodigious lamp in order to read by its light.19Lucian probably here was referring to an anecdote mentioned by Epictetus in which, to replace a costly iron lamp that had been stolen, he planned to buy one of earthenware.20 Lucian presents the philosopher a bit ironically and with some indulgence as “a marvelous old man.” The intimate scene of reading at night communicates an impression of the philosopher that contributed to his popularity in spite of his contradictions and what Arrian calls “the frankness of his speech.”

In chapter 5 I concentrate on Epictetus as a teacher, while in chapter 6 I cover his attitude toward grammatical studies, books, rhetoric, and the Second Sophistic. These are issues that previous scholarship and commentaries on Epictetus have neglected or overlooked.21 Like many philosophers before and after him, Epictetus apparently did not leave anything in writing.22 His student Arrian declared that he had taken notes in his classes and that the text of the Discourses basically consisted of these notes.


1. According to an anecdote his master had tortured him and as a result he became crippled. Celsus, Origen, Gregory of Nazianzus, and his brother Caesarius reported the story in some detail. The historicity of these events cannot be ascertained. Cf. Souilhé 1948, iv note 3.

2. See Cooper 2012, 150–58; Gill 2022, 15–52 on the issue that learning and practicing virtue will be conducive to happiness. Following nature as a guide will bring eudaimonia.

3. Diogenes Laertius (Lives of the Philosophers) who lived in the first half of the third century is a major source for philosophy including the Stoics. On Stoicism, see Cooper 2012, 150–51. Dobbin 1998, xiv–xix. Cf. in part III Olympiodorus’s statement that he had become a Stoic in his soul.

4. See Cooper 2012, 148–51.

5. Bonhöffer 1890. On the originality of the Stoic treatises and the school, see Gill 2003, 38–40. On the doctrinal orthodoxy in Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius, see Gill 2003, 44–50.

6. Long 2002, 1.

7. Brooke 2012. Scaltsas and Mason 2007, 1–3.

8. Diss. 1.11; see the commentary of Dobbin 1998, 131–36.

9. Diss. 1.11.27.

10. Long (2002, 3) declared that he was deeply disturbed by certain passages.

11. For the argument that Epictetus’s style does not have much in common with diatribe, see Jocelyn 1982. The same definition, however, is maintained by Wehner 2000.

12. Ench. 33.10.

13. Ench. 25 and 15.

14. Ench. 46.

15. Ench. 29.

16. Long beards suited philosophers; see Disc. 1.6.10 and below. Cf. Disc. 3.22.9–11: long hairs and a disheveled aspect typical of Cynic philosophers.

17. The traditional image was that of philosophers with long hair, cf. Libanius, Decl. 33.12. However, Aristophanes in Clouds 14 considers long unkept hair as a sign of luxury.

18. Epictetus is mentioned in Demonax 3 and 55; The Death of Peregrinus 18; and Alexander 2, alongside Arrian.

19. Lucian, Ind. 13.

20. See Diss. 1.18.15–16; cf. also 1.29.21. The lesson was that we should not despise and blame wrongdoers but instead pity them, because they had less than us and made a wrong judgment; see Dobbin 1998, 171.

21. For the cultural historian there is much food for thought to be found in the Discourses. We know a great deal about how schools of grammar and rhetoric operated, including details both general and more personal regarding teachers and students. We are more in the dark about schools of philosophy. On students of philosophy, see Trapp 2007, 18–23.

22. Snyder (2000, 22) maintained that Epictetus might have written something for his classes but did not produce a treatise. On the writings of Socrates see Diss. 2.1.

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