Discourses 2.7

Because we employ divination when there is no occasion for it, many of us neglect many of the duties of life. For what can the diviner see that is of greater import than death, or danger, or illness, or in general such things as these? If, then, it becomes necessary for me to risk my life for my friend, and if it becomes my duty even to die for him, where do I find beyond that any occasion to employ divination? Have I not within me the diviner that has told me the true nature of good and of evil, that has set forth the signs characteristic of both of them? What further use have I, then, of entrails, or of birds? But when he says, "It is expedient for you," do I accept it? Why, does he know what is expedient? Does he know what is good? Has he learned the signs characteristic of things good and things evil, as he has the signs characteristic of entrails? For if he knows the signs characteristic of these, he knows also those of things honourable and base, and right and wrong. Man, it is for you to tell me what is indicated by signs—life or death, poverty or wealth; but whether these things are expedient or inexpedient, am I going to ask of you? Why don't you speak on points of grammar? Well then, on this matter, in which we mortals are all astray and in conflict with one another, you do speak? Wherefore, that was an admirable answer which the woman gave who wished to send a boatload of supplies to Gratilla after she had been exiled. To a man who said, "Domitian will confiscate them," she replies, "I should rather have him confiscate them than myself fail to send them."

What, then, induces us to employ divination so constantly? Cowardice, fear of the consequences. This is why we flatter the diviners, saying: "Master, shall I inherit my father's property?" "Let us see; let us offer a sacrifice about that matter." "Yes, master, as fortune wills." Then if the diviner says, "You will inherit the property," we thank him as though we had received the inheritance from him. That is why they in their turn go on making mock of us. Well, what then? We ought to go to them without either desire or aversion, just as the wayfarer asks the man who meets him which of two roads leads to his destination, without any desire to have the right-hand road lead there any more than the left-hand road; for he does not care to travel one particular road of the two, but merely the one that leads to his destination. So also we ought to go to God as a guide, making use of Him as we make use of our eyes; we do not call upon them to show us such-and-such things by preference, but we accept the impressions of precisely such things as they reveal to us. But as it is, we tremble before the bird-augur, lay hold upon him, and appealing to him as if he were a god, we beg of him, saying: "Master, have mercy; grant that I come off safe." You slave! What, do you want anything but what is best for you? Is anything else best for you than what pleases God? Why do you do all that in you lies to corrupt your judge, to mislead your counsellor?

Epictetus, Discourses 2.7, translated by W. A. Oldfather

Through an unreasonable regard to divination many of us omit many duties. For what more can the diviner see than death or danger or disease, or generally things of that kind? If then I must expose myself to danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, what need have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner who has told me the nature of good and of evil, and has explained to me the signs (or marks) of both? What need have I then to consult the viscera of victims or the flight of birds, and why do I submit when he says, It is for your interest? For does he know what is for my interest, does he know what is good; and as he has learned the signs of the viscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil? For if he knows the signs of these, he knows the signs both of the beautiful and of the ugly, and of the just and of the unjust. Do you tell me, man, what is the thing which is signified for me: is it life or death, poverty or wealth? But whether these things are for my interest or whether they are not, I do not intend to ask you. Why don't you give your opinion on matters of grammar, and why do you give it here about things on which we are all in error and disputing with one another? The woman therefore, who intended to send by a vessel a month's provisions to Gratilla in her banishment, made a good answer to him who said that Domitian would seize what she sent, I would rather, she replied, that Domitian should seize all than that I should not send it.

What then leads us to frequent use of divination? Cowardice, the dread of what will happen. This is the reason why we flatter the diviners. Pray, master, shall I succeed to the property of my father? Let us see: let us sacrifice on the occasion.—Yes, master, as fortune chooses.—When he has said, You shall succeed to the inheritance, we thank him as if we received the inheritance from him. The consequence is that they play upon us.

What then should we do? We ought to come (to divination) without desire or aversion, as the wayfarer asks of the man whom he meets which of two roads leads (to his journey's end), without any desire for that which leads to the right rather than to the left, for he has no wish to go by any road except the road which leads (to his end). In the same way ought we to come to God also as a guide; as we use our eyes, not asking them to show us rather such things as we wish, but receiving the appearances of things such as the eyes present them to us. But now we trembling take the augur (bird interpreter) by the hand, and while we invoke God we intreat the augur, and say Master have mercy on me; suffer me to come safe out of this difficulty. Wretch, would you have then any thing other than what is best? Is there then any thing better than what pleases God? Why do you, as far as is in your power, corrupt your judge and lead astray your adviser?

Epictetus, Discourses 2.7, translated by George Long

Many of us often neglect acts which are fitting because we consult the diviners out of season. What can the diviner see more than death or danger or disease or generally things of that sort? If then I have to risk my life for a friend, if even it is fitting for me to die for him, how can it be in season for me to consult a diviner? Have I not within me the diviner who has told me the true nature of good and evil, who has expounded the signs of both? What need have I then of the flesh of victims or the flight of birds? Can I bear with him when he says, 'This is expedient for you'? Does he know what is expedient, does he know what is good, has he learnt signs to distinguish between good things and bad, like the signs in the flesh of victims? If he knows the signs of good and evil, he knows also the signs of things noble and shameful, just and unjust. It is yours, man, to tell me what is portended—life or death, poverty or wealth; but whether this is expedient or inexpedient I am not going to inquire of you.

Why do you not lay down the law in matters of grammar? Are you going to do it here then, where all mankind are at sea and in conflict with one another? Therefore that was a good answer that the lady made who wished to send the shipload of supplies to Gratilla in exile, when one said, 'Domitian will take them away': 'I would rather', she said, 'that Domitian should take them away than that I should not send them.'

What then leads us to consult diviners so constantly? Cowardice, fear of events. That is why we flatter the diviners.

'Master, shall I inherit from my father?'

'Let us see: let us offer sacrifice.'

'Yes, master, as fortune wills.'

When he says, 'You shall inherit', we give thanks to him as though we had received the inheritance from him. That is why they go on deluding us.

What must we do then? We must come without the will to get or the will to avoid, just as the wayfarer asks the man he meets which of two ways leads anywhere, not wanting the right hand to be the road rather than the left, for he does not wish to go one particular road, but the road which leads to his goal. We ought to approach God as we approach a guide, dealing with Him as we deal with our eyes, not beseeching them to show us one sort of things rather than another, but accepting the impressions of things as they are shown us. But instead of that we tremble and get hold of the augur and appeal to him as if he were a god and say, 'Master, have pity, suffer me to come off safe.'

Slave, do you not wish for what is better for you? Is anything better than what seems good to God? Why do you do all that in you lies to corrupt the judge, and pervert your counsellor?

Epictetus, Discourses 2.7, translated by P. E. Matheson