| From my grandfather Verus I learned good morals and the government | |
| of my temper. | |
| From the reputation and remembrance of my father, modesty and a manly | |
| character. | |
| From my mother, piety and beneficence, and abstinence, not only from | |
| evil deeds, but even from evil thoughts; and further, simplicity in | |
| my way of living, far removed from the habits of the rich. | |
| From my great-grandfather, not to have frequented public schools, | |
| and to have had good teachers at home, and to know that on such things | |
| a man should spend liberally. | |
| From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of the blue party | |
| at the games in the Circus, nor a partizan either of the Parmularius | |
| or the Scutarius at the gladiators' fights; from him too I learned | |
| endurance of labour, and to want little, and to work with my own hands, | |
| and not to meddle with other people's affairs, and not to be ready | |
| to listen to slander. | |
| From Diognetus, not to busy myself about trifling things, and not | |
| to give credit to what was said by miracle-workers and jugglers about | |
| incantations and the driving away of daemons and such things; and | |
| not to breed quails for fighting, nor to give myself up passionately | |
| to such things; and to endure freedom of speech; and to have become | |
| intimate with philosophy; and to have been a hearer, first of Bacchius, | |
| then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written dialogues in my | |
| youth; and to have desired a plank bed and skin, and whatever else | |
| of the kind belongs to the Grecian discipline. | |
| From Rusticus I received the impression that my character required | |
| improvement and discipline; and from him I learned not to be led astray | |
| to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on speculative matters, nor | |
| to delivering little hortatory orations, nor to showing myself off | |
| as a man who practises much discipline, or does benevolent acts in | |
| order to make a display; and to abstain from rhetoric, and poetry, | |
| and fine writing; and not to walk about in the house in my outdoor | |
| dress, nor to do other things of the kind; and to write my letters | |
| with simplicity, like the letter which Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa | |
| to my mother; and with respect to those who have offended me by words, | |
| or done me wrong, to be easily disposed to be pacified and reconciled, | |
| as soon as they have shown a readiness to be reconciled; and to read | |
| carefully, and not to be satisfied with a superficial understanding | |
| of a book; nor hastily to give my assent to those who talk overmuch; | |
| and I am indebted to him for being acquainted with the discourses | |
| of Epictetus, which he communicated to me out of his own collection. | |
| From Apollonius I learned freedom of will and undeviating steadiness | |
| of purpose; and to look to nothing else, not even for a moment, except | |
| to reason; and to be always the same, in sharp pains, on the occasion | |
| of the loss of a child, and in long illness; and to see clearly in | |
| a living example that the same man can be both most resolute and yielding, | |
| and not peevish in giving his instruction; and to have had before | |
| my eyes a man who clearly considered his experience and his skill | |
| in expounding philosophical principles as the smallest of his merits; | |
| and from him I learned how to receive from friends what are esteemed | |
| favours, without being either humbled by them or letting them pass | |
| unnoticed. | |
| From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example of a family | |
| governed in a fatherly manner, and the idea of living conformably | |
| to nature; and gravity without affectation, and to look carefully | |
| after the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons, | |
| and those who form opinions without consideration: he had the power | |
| of readily accommodating himself to all, so that intercourse with | |
| him was more agreeable than any flattery; and at the same time he | |
| was most highly venerated by those who associated with him: and he | |
| had the faculty both of discovering and ordering, in an intelligent | |
| and methodical way, the principles necessary for life; and he never | |
| showed anger or any other passion, but was entirely free from passion, | |
| and also most affectionate; and he could express approbation without | |
| noisy display, and he possessed much knowledge without ostentation. | |
| From Alexander the grammarian, to refrain from fault-finding, and | |
| not in a reproachful way to chide those who uttered any barbarous | |
| or solecistic or strange-sounding expression; but dexterously to introduce | |
| the very expression which ought to have been used, and in the way | |
| of answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an inquiry about the | |
| thing itself, not about the word, or by some other fit suggestion. | |
| From Fronto I learned to observe what envy, and duplicity, and hypocrisy | |
| are in a tyrant, and that generally those among us who are called | |
| Patricians are rather deficient in paternal affection. | |
| From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor without necessity | |
| to say to any one, or to write in a letter, that I have no leisure; | |
| nor continually to excuse the neglect of duties required by our relation | |
| to those with whom we live, by alleging urgent occupations. | |
| From Catulus, not to be indifferent when a friend finds fault, even | |
| if he should find fault without reason, but to try to restore him | |
| to his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak well of teachers, | |
| as it is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love my children | |
| truly. | |
| From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to love truth, and to | |
| love justice; and through him I learned to know Thrasea, Helvidius, | |
| Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I received the idea of a polity in | |
| which there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regard | |
| to equal rights and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kingly | |
| government which respects most of all the freedom of the governed; | |
| I learned from him also consistency and undeviating steadiness in | |
| my regard for philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and to give | |
| to others readily, and to cherish good hopes, and to believe that | |
| I am loved by my friends; and in him I observed no concealment of | |
| his opinions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that his | |
| friends had no need to conjecture what he wished or did not wish, | |
| but it was quite plain. | |
| From Maximus I learned self-government, and not to be led aside by | |
| anything; and cheerfulness in all circumstances, as well as in illness; | |
| and a just admixture in the moral character of sweetness and dignity, | |
| and to do what was set before me without complaining. I observed that | |
| everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and that in all that | |
| he did he never had any bad intention; and he never showed amazement | |
| and surprise, and was never in a hurry, and never put off doing a | |
| thing, nor was perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to disguise | |
| his vexation, nor, on the other hand, was he ever passionate or suspicious. | |
| He was accustomed to do acts of beneficence, and was ready to forgive, | |
| and was free from all falsehood; and he presented the appearance of | |
| a man who could not be diverted from right rather than of a man who | |
| had been improved. I observed, too, that no man could ever think that | |
| he was despised by Maximus, or ever venture to think himself a better | |
| man. He had also the art of being humorous in an agreeable way. | |
| In my father I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeable resolution | |
| in the things which he had determined after due deliberation; and | |
| no vainglory in those things which men call honours; and a love of | |
| labour and perseverance; and a readiness to listen to those who had | |
| anything to propose for the common weal; and undeviating firmness | |
| in giving to every man according to his deserts; and a knowledge derived | |
| from experience of the occasions for vigorous action and for remission. | |
| And I observed that he had overcome all passion for boys; and he considered | |
| himself no more than any other citizen; and he released his friends | |
| from all obligation to sup with him or to attend him of necessity | |
| when he went abroad, and those who had failed to accompany him, by | |
| reason of any urgent circumstances, always found him the same. I observed | |
| too his habit of careful inquiry in all matters of deliberation, and | |
| his persistency, and that he never stopped his investigation through | |
| being satisfied with appearances which first present themselves; and | |
| that his disposition was to keep his friends, and not to be soon tired | |
| of them, nor yet to be extravagant in his affection; and to be satisfied | |
| on all occasions, and cheerful; and to foresee things a long way off, | |
| and to provide for the smallest without display; and to check immediately | |
| popular applause and all flattery; and to be ever watchful over the | |
| things which were necessary for the administration of the empire, | |
| and to be a good manager of the expenditure, and patiently to endure | |
| the blame which he got for such conduct; and he was neither superstitious | |
| with respect to the gods, nor did he court men by gifts or by trying | |
| to please them, or by flattering the populace; but he showed sobriety | |
| in all things and firmness, and never any mean thoughts or action, | |
| nor love of novelty. And the things which conduce in any way to the | |
| commodity of life, and of which fortune gives an abundant supply, | |
| he used without arrogance and without excusing himself; so that when | |
| he had them, he enjoyed them without affectation, and when he had | |
| them not, he did not want them. No one could ever say of him that | |
| he was either a sophist or a home-bred flippant slave or a pedant; | |
| but every one acknowledged him to be a man ripe, perfect, above flattery, | |
| able to manage his own and other men's affairs. Besides this, he honoured | |
| those who were true philosophers, and he did not reproach those who | |
| pretended to be philosophers, nor yet was he easily led by them. He | |
| was also easy in conversation, and he made himself agreeable without | |
| any offensive affectation. He took a reasonable care of his body's | |
| health, not as one who was greatly attached to life, nor out of regard | |
| to personal appearance, nor yet in a careless way, but so that, through | |
| his own attention, he very seldom stood in need of the physician's | |
| art or of medicine or external applications. He was most ready to | |
| give way without envy to those who possessed any particular faculty, | |
| such as that of eloquence or knowledge of the law or of morals, or | |
| of anything else; and he gave them his help, that each might enjoy | |
| reputation according to his deserts; and he always acted conformably | |
| to the institutions of his country, without showing any affectation | |
| of doing so. Further, he was not fond of change nor unsteady, but | |
| he loved to stay in the same places, and to employ himself about the | |
| same things; and after his paroxysms of headache he came immediately | |
| fresh and vigorous to his usual occupations. His secrets were not | |
| but very few and very rare, and these only about public matters; and | |
| he showed prudence and economy in the exhibition of the public spectacles | |
| and the construction of public buildings, his donations to the people, | |
| and in such things, for he was a man who looked to what ought to be | |
| done, not to the reputation which is got by a man's acts. He did not | |
| take the bath at unseasonable hours; he was not fond of building houses, | |
| nor curious about what he ate, nor about the texture and colour of | |
| his clothes, nor about the beauty of his slaves. His dress came from | |
| Lorium, his villa on the coast, and from Lanuvium generally. We know | |
| how he behaved to the toll-collector at Tusculum who asked his pardon; | |
| and such was all his behaviour. There was in him nothing harsh, nor | |
| implacable, nor violent, nor, as one may say, anything carried to | |
| the sweating point; but he examined all things severally, as if he | |
| had abundance of time, and without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously | |
| and consistently. And that might be applied to him which is recorded | |
| of Socrates, that he was able both to abstain from, and to enjoy, | |
| those things which many are too weak to abstain from, and cannot enjoy | |
| without excess. But to be strong enough both to bear the one and to | |
| be sober in the other is the mark of a man who has a perfect and invincible | |
| soul, such as he showed in the illness of Maximus. | |
| To the gods I am indebted for having good grandfathers, good parents, | |
| a good sister, good teachers, good associates, good kinsmen and friends, | |
| nearly everything good. Further, I owe it to the gods that I was not | |
| hurried into any offence against any of them, though I had a disposition | |
| which, if opportunity had offered, might have led me to do something | |
| of this kind; but, through their favour, there never was such a concurrence | |
| of circumstances as put me to the trial. Further, I am thankful to | |
| the gods that I was not longer brought up with my grandfather's concubine, | |
| and that I preserved the flower of my youth, and that I did not make | |
| proof of my virility before the proper season, but even deferred the | |
| time; that I was subjected to a ruler and a father who was able to | |
| take away all pride from me, and to bring me to the knowledge that | |
| it is possible for a man to live in a palace without wanting either | |
| guards or embroidered dresses, or torches and statues, and such-like | |
| show; but that it is in such a man's power to bring himself very near | |
| to the fashion of a private person, without being for this reason | |
| either meaner in thought, or more remiss in action, with respect to | |
| the things which must be done for the public interest in a manner | |
| that befits a ruler. I thank the gods for giving me such a brother, | |
| who was able by his moral character to rouse me to vigilance over | |
| myself, and who, at the same time, pleased me by his respect and affection; | |
| that my children have not been stupid nor deformed in body; that I | |
| did not make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and the other studies, | |
| in which I should perhaps have been completely engaged, if I had seen | |
| that I was making progress in them; that I made haste to place those | |
| who brought me up in the station of honour, which they seemed to desire, | |
| without putting them off with hope of my doing it some time after, | |
| because they were then still young; that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus, | |
| Maximus; that I received clear and frequent impressions about living | |
| according to nature, and what kind of a life that is, so that, so | |
| far as depended on the gods, and their gifts, and help, and inspirations, | |
| nothing hindered me from forthwith living according to nature, though | |
| I still fall short of it through my own fault, and through not observing | |
| the admonitions of the gods, and, I may almost say, their direct instructions; | |
| that my body has held out so long in such a kind of life; that I never | |
| touched either Benedicta or Theodotus, and that, after having fallen | |
| into amatory passions, I was cured; and, though I was often out of | |
| humour with Rusticus, I never did anything of which I had occasion | |
| to repent; that, though it was my mother's fate to die young, she | |
| spent the last years of her life with me; that, whenever I wished | |
| to help any man in his need, or on any other occasion, I was never | |
| told that I had not the means of doing it; and that to myself the | |
| same necessity never happened, to receive anything from another; that | |
| I have such a wife, so obedient, and so affectionate, and so simple; | |
| that I had abundance of good masters for my children; and that remedies | |
| have been shown to me by dreams, both others, and against bloodspitting | |
| and giddiness...; and that, when I had an inclination to philosophy, | |
| I did not fall into the hands of any sophist, and that I did not waste | |
| my time on writers of histories, or in the resolution of syllogisms, | |
| or occupy myself about the investigation of appearances in the heavens; | |
| for all these things require the help of the gods and fortune. | |
| Among the Quadi at the Granua. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK TWO | |
| Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body, | |
| the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these | |
| things happen to them by reason of their ignorance of what is good | |
| and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is beautiful, | |
| and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who does wrong, | |
| that it is akin to me, not only of the same blood or seed, but that | |
| it participates in the same intelligence and the same portion of the | |
| divinity, I can neither be injured by any of them, for no one can | |
| fix on me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate | |
| him, For we are made for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like | |
| eyelids, like the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act against | |
| one another then is contrary to nature; and it is acting against one | |
| another to be vexed and to turn away. | |
| Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the | |
| ruling part. Throw away thy books; no longer distract thyself: it | |
| is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, despise the flesh; | |
| it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins, | |
| and arteries. See the breath also, what kind of a thing it is, air, | |
| and not always the same, but every moment sent out and again sucked | |
| in. The third then is the ruling part: consider thus: Thou art an | |
| old man; no longer let this be a slave, no longer be pulled by the | |
| strings like a puppet to unsocial movements, no longer either be dissatisfied | |
| with thy present lot, or shrink from the future. | |
| All that is from the gods is full of Providence. That which is from | |
| fortune is not separated from nature or without an interweaving and | |
| involution with the things which are ordered by Providence. From thence | |
| all things flow; and there is besides necessity, and that which is | |
| for the advantage of the whole universe, of which thou art a part. | |
| But that is good for every part of nature which the nature of the | |
| whole brings, and what serves to maintain this nature. Now the universe | |
| is preserved, as by the changes of the elements so by the changes | |
| of things compounded of the elements. Let these principles be enough | |
| for thee, let them always be fixed opinions. But cast away the thirst | |
| after books, that thou mayest not die murmuring, but cheerfully, truly, | |
| and from thy heart thankful to the gods. | |
| Remember how long thou hast been putting off these things, and how | |
| often thou hast received an opportunity from the gods, and yet dost | |
| not use it. Thou must now at last perceive of what universe thou art | |
| a part, and of what administrator of the universe thy existence is | |
| an efflux, and that a limit of time is fixed for thee, which if thou | |
| dost not use for clearing away the clouds from thy mind, it will go | |
| and thou wilt go, and it will never return. | |
| Every moment think steadily as a Roman and a man to do what thou hast | |
| in hand with perfect and simple dignity, and feeling of affection, | |
| and freedom, and justice; and to give thyself relief from all other | |
| thoughts. And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act | |
| of thy life as if it were the last, laying aside all carelessness | |
| and passionate aversion from the commands of reason, and all hypocrisy, | |
| and self-love, and discontent with the portion which has been given | |
| to thee. Thou seest how few the things are, the which if a man lays | |
| hold of, he is able to live a life which flows in quiet, and is like | |
| the existence of the gods; for the gods on their part will require | |
| nothing more from him who observes these things. | |
| Do wrong to thyself, do wrong to thyself, my soul; but thou wilt no | |
| longer have the opportunity of honouring thyself. Every man's life | |
| is sufficient. But thine is nearly finished, though thy soul reverences | |
| not itself but places thy felicity in the souls of others. | |
| Do the things external which fall upon thee distract thee? Give thyself | |
| time to learn something new and good, and cease to be whirled around. | |
| But then thou must also avoid being carried about the other way. For | |
| those too are triflers who have wearied themselves in life by their | |
| activity, and yet have no object to which to direct every movement, | |
| and, in a word, all their thoughts. | |
| Through not observing what is in the mind of another a man has seldom | |
| been seen to be unhappy; but those who do not observe the movements | |
| of their own minds must of necessity be unhappy. | |
| This thou must always bear in mind, what is the nature of the whole, | |
| and what is my nature, and how this is related to that, and what kind | |
| of a part it is of what kind of a whole; and that there is no one | |
| who hinders thee from always doing and saying the things which are | |
| according to the nature of which thou art a part. | |
| Theophrastus, in his comparison of bad acts- such a comparison as | |
| one would make in accordance with the common notions of mankind- says, | |
| like a true philosopher, that the offences which are committed through | |
| desire are more blameable than those which are committed through anger. | |
| For he who is excited by anger seems to turn away from reason with | |
| a certain pain and unconscious contraction; but he who offends through | |
| desire, being overpowered by pleasure, seems to be in a manner more | |
| intemperate and more womanish in his offences. Rightly then, and in | |
| a way worthy of philosophy, he said that the offence which is committed | |
| with pleasure is more blameable than that which is committed with | |
| pain; and on the whole the one is more like a person who has been | |
| first wronged and through pain is compelled to be angry; but the other | |
| is moved by his own impulse to do wrong, being carried towards doing | |
| something by desire. | |
| Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, | |
| regulate every act and thought accordingly. But to go away from among | |
| men, if there are gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods | |
| will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or | |
| if they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live | |
| in a universe devoid of gods or devoid of Providence? But in truth | |
| they do exist, and they do care for human things, and they have put | |
| all the means in man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils. | |
| And as to the rest, if there was anything evil, they would have provided | |
| for this also, that it should be altogether in a man's power not to | |
| fall into it. Now that which does not make a man worse, how can it | |
| make a man's life worse? But neither through ignorance, nor having | |
| the knowledge, but not the power to guard against or correct these | |
| things, is it possible that the nature of the universe has overlooked | |
| them; nor is it possible that it has made so great a mistake, either | |
| through want of power or want of skill, that good and evil should | |
| happen indiscriminately to the good and the bad. But death certainly, | |
| and life, honour and dishonour, pain and pleasure, all these things | |
| equally happen to good men and bad, being things which make us neither | |
| better nor worse. Therefore they are neither good nor evil. | |
| How quickly all things disappear, in the universe the bodies themselves, | |
| but in time the remembrance of them; what is the nature of all sensible | |
| things, and particularly those which attract with the bait of pleasure | |
| or terrify by pain, or are noised abroad by vapoury fame; how worthless, | |
| and contemptible, and sordid, and perishable, and dead they are- all | |
| this it is the part of the intellectual faculty to observe. To observe | |
| too who these are whose opinions and voices give reputation; what | |
| death is, and the fact that, if a man looks at it in itself, and by | |
| the abstractive power of reflection resolves into their parts all | |
| the things which present themselves to the imagination in it, he will | |
| then consider it to be nothing else than an operation of nature; and | |
| if any one is afraid of an operation of nature, he is a child. This, | |
| however, is not only an operation of nature, but it is also a thing | |
| which conduces to the purposes of nature. To observe too how man comes | |
| near to the deity, and by what part of him, and when this part of | |
| man is so disposed. | |
| Nothing is more wretched than a man who traverses everything in a | |
| round, and pries into the things beneath the earth, as the poet says, | |
| and seeks by conjecture what is in the minds of his neighbours, without | |
| perceiving that it is sufficient to attend to the daemon within him, | |
| and to reverence it sincerely. And reverence of the daemon consists | |
| in keeping it pure from passion and thoughtlessness, and dissatisfaction | |
| with what comes from gods and men. For the things from the gods merit | |
| veneration for their excellence; and the things from men should be | |
| dear to us by reason of kinship; and sometimes even, in a manner, | |
| they move our pity by reason of men's ignorance of good and bad; this | |
| defect being not less than that which deprives us of the power of | |
| distinguishing things that are white and black. | |
| Though thou shouldst be going to live three thousand years, and as | |
| many times ten thousand years, still remember that no man loses any | |
| other life than this which he now lives, nor lives any other than | |
| this which he now loses. The longest and shortest are thus brought | |
| to the same. For the present is the same to all, though that which | |
| perishes is not the same; and so that which is lost appears to be | |
| a mere moment. For a man cannot lose either the past or the future: | |
| for what a man has not, how can any one take this from him? These | |
| two things then thou must bear in mind; the one, that all things from | |
| eternity are of like forms and come round in a circle, and that it | |
| makes no difference whether a man shall see the same things during | |
| a hundred years or two hundred, or an infinite time; and the second, | |
| that the longest liver and he who will die soonest lose just the same. | |
| For the present is the only thing of which a man can be deprived, | |
| if it is true that this is the only thing which he has, and that a | |
| man cannot lose a thing if he has it not. | |
| Remember that all is opinion. For what was said by the Cynic Monimus | |
| is manifest: and manifest too is the use of what was said, if a man | |
| receives what may be got out of it as far as it is true. | |
| The soul of man does violence to itself, first of all, when it becomes | |
| an abscess and, as it were, a tumour on the universe, so far as it | |
| can. For to be vexed at anything which happens is a separation of | |
| ourselves from nature, in some part of which the natures of all other | |
| things are contained. In the next place, the soul does violence to | |
| itself when it turns away from any man, or even moves towards him | |
| with the intention of injuring, such as are the souls of those who | |
| are angry. In the third place, the soul does violence to itself when | |
| it is overpowered by pleasure or by pain. Fourthly, when it plays | |
| a part, and does or says anything insincerely and untruly. Fifthly, | |
| when it allows any act of its own and any movement to be without an | |
| aim, and does anything thoughtlessly and without considering what | |
| it is, it being right that even the smallest things be done with reference | |
| to an end; and the end of rational animals is to follow the reason | |
| and the law of the most ancient city and polity. | |
| Of human life the time is a point, and the substance is in a flux, | |
| and the perception dull, and the composition of the whole body subject | |
| to putrefaction, and the soul a whirl, and fortune hard to divine, | |
| and fame a thing devoid of judgement. And, to say all in a word, everything | |
| which belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to the soul | |
| is a dream and vapour, and life is a warfare and a stranger's sojourn, | |
| and after-fame is oblivion. What then is that which is able to conduct | |
| a man? One thing and only one, philosophy. But this consists in keeping | |
| the daemon within a man free from violence and unharmed, superior | |
| to pains and pleasures, doing nothing without purpose, nor yet falsely | |
| and with hypocrisy, not feeling the need of another man's doing or | |
| not doing anything; and besides, accepting all that happens, and all | |
| that is allotted, as coming from thence, wherever it is, from whence | |
| he himself came; and, finally, waiting for death with a cheerful mind, | |
| as being nothing else than a dissolution of the elements of which | |
| every living being is compounded. But if there is no harm to the elements | |
| themselves in each continually changing into another, why should a | |
| man have any apprehension about the change and dissolution of all | |
| the elements? For it is according to nature, and nothing is evil which | |
| is according to nature. | |
| This in Carnuntum. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK THREE | |
| We ught to consider not only that our life is daily wasting away | |
| and a smaller part of it is left, but another thing also must be taken | |
| into the account, that if a man should live longer, it is quite uncertain | |
| whether the understanding will still continue sufficient for the comprehension | |
| of things, and retain the power of contemplation which strives to | |
| acquire the knowledge of the divine and the human. For if he shall | |
| begin to fall into dotage, perspiration and nutrition and imagination | |
| and appetite, and whatever else there is of the kind, will not fail; | |
| but the power of making use of ourselves, and filling up the measure | |
| of our duty, and clearly separating all appearances, and considering | |
| whether a man should now depart from life, and whatever else of the | |
| kind absolutely requires a disciplined reason, all this is already | |
| extinguished. We must make haste then, not only because we are daily | |
| nearer to death, but also because the conception of things and the | |
| understanding of them cease first. | |
| We ought to observe also that even the things which follow after the | |
| things which are produced according to nature contain something pleasing | |
| and attractive. For instance, when bread is baked some parts are split | |
| at the surface, and these parts which thus open, and have a certain | |
| fashion contrary to the purpose of the baker's art, are beautiful | |
| in a manner, and in a peculiar way excite a desire for eating. And | |
| again, figs, when they are quite ripe, gape open; and in the ripe | |
| olives the very circumstance of their being near to rottenness adds | |
| a peculiar beauty to the fruit. And the ears of corn bending down, | |
| and the lion's eyebrows, and the foam which flows from the mouth of | |
| wild boars, and many other things- though they are far from being | |
| beautiful, if a man should examine them severally- still, because | |
| they are consequent upon the things which are formed by nature, help | |
| to adorn them, and they please the mind; so that if a man should have | |
| a feeling and deeper insight with respect to the things which are | |
| produced in the universe, there is hardly one of those which follow | |
| by way of consequence which will not seem to him to be in a manner | |
| disposed so as to give pleasure. And so he will see even the real | |
| gaping jaws of wild beasts with no less pleasure than those which | |
| painters and sculptors show by imitation; and in an old woman and | |
| an old man he will be able to see a certain maturity and comeliness; | |
| and the attractive loveliness of young persons he will be able to | |
| look on with chaste eyes; and many such things will present themselves, | |
| not pleasing to every man, but to him only who has become truly familiar | |
| with nature and her works. | |
| Hippocrates after curing many diseases himself fell sick and died. | |
| The Chaldaei foretold the deaths of many, and then fate caught them | |
| too. Alexander, and Pompeius, and Caius Caesar, after so often completely | |
| destroying whole cities, and in battle cutting to pieces many ten | |
| thousands of cavalry and infantry, themselves too at last departed | |
| from life. Heraclitus, after so many speculations on the conflagration | |
| of the universe, was filled with water internally and died smeared | |
| all over with mud. And lice destroyed Democritus; and other lice killed | |
| Socrates. What means all this? Thou hast embarked, thou hast made | |
| the voyage, thou art come to shore; get out. If indeed to another | |
| life, there is no want of gods, not even there. But if to a state | |
| without sensation, thou wilt cease to be held by pains and pleasures, | |
| and to be a slave to the vessel, which is as much inferior as that | |
| which serves it is superior: for the one is intelligence and deity; | |
| the other is earth and corruption. | |
| Do not waste the remainder of thy life in thoughts about others, when | |
| thou dost not refer thy thoughts to some object of common utility. | |
| For thou losest the opportunity of doing something else when thou | |
| hast such thoughts as these, What is such a person doing, and why, | |
| and what is he saying, and what is he thinking of, and what is he | |
| contriving, and whatever else of the kind makes us wander away from | |
| the observation of our own ruling power. We ought then to check in | |
| the series of our thoughts everything that is without a purpose and | |
| useless, but most of all the over-curious feeling and the malignant; | |
| and a man should use himself to think of those things only about which | |
| if one should suddenly ask, What hast thou now in thy thoughts? With | |
| perfect openness thou mightest, immediately answer, This or That; | |
| so that from thy words it should be plain that everything in thee | |
| is simple and benevolent, and such as befits a social animal, and | |
| one that cares not for thoughts about pleasure or sensual enjoyments | |
| at all, nor has any rivalry or envy and suspicion, or anything else | |
| for which thou wouldst blush if thou shouldst say that thou hadst | |
| it in thy mind. For the man who is such and no longer delays being | |
| among the number of the best, is like a priest and minister of the | |
| gods, using too the deity which is planted within him, which makes | |
| the man uncontaminated by pleasure, unharmed by any pain, untouched | |
| by any insult, feeling no wrong, a fighter in the noblest fight, one | |
| who cannot be overpowered by any passion, dyed deep with justice, | |
| accepting with all his soul everything which happens and is assigned | |
| to him as his portion; and not often, nor yet without great necessity | |
| and for the general interest, imagining what another says, or does, | |
| or thinks. For it is only what belongs to himself that he makes the | |
| matter for his activity; and he constantly thinks of that which is | |
| allotted to himself out of the sum total of things, and he makes his | |
| own acts fair, and he is persuaded that his own portion is good. For | |
| the lot which is assigned to each man is carried along with him and | |
| carries him along with it. And he remembers also that every rational | |
| animal is his kinsman, and that to care for all men is according to | |
| man's nature; and a man should hold on to the opinion not of all, | |
| but of those only who confessedly live according to nature. But as | |
| to those who live not so, he always bears in mind what kind of men | |
| they are both at home and from home, both by night and by day, and | |
| what they are, and with what men they live an impure life. Accordingly, | |
| he does not value at all the praise which comes from such men, since | |
| they are not even satisfied with themselves. | |
| Labour not unwillingly, nor without regard to the common interest, | |
| nor without due consideration, nor with distraction; nor let studied | |
| ornament set off thy thoughts, and be not either a man of many words, | |
| or busy about too many things. And further, let the deity which is | |
| in thee be the guardian of a living being, manly and of ripe age, | |
| and engaged in matter political, and a Roman, and a ruler, who has | |
| taken his post like a man waiting for the signal which summons him | |
| from life, and ready to go, having need neither of oath nor of any | |
| man's testimony. Be cheerful also, and seek not external help nor | |
| the tranquility which others give. A man then must stand erect, not | |
| be kept erect by others. | |
| If thou findest in human life anything better than justice, truth, | |
| temperance, fortitude, and, in a word, anything better than thy own | |
| mind's self-satisfaction in the things which it enables thee to do | |
| according to right reason, and in the condition that is assigned to | |
| thee without thy own choice; if, I say, thou seest anything better | |
| than this, turn to it with all thy soul, and enjoy that which thou | |
| hast found to be the best. But if nothing appears to be better than | |
| the deity which is planted in thee, which has subjected to itself | |
| all thy appetites, and carefully examines all the impressions, and, | |
| as Socrates said, has detached itself from the persuasions of sense, | |
| and has submitted itself to the gods, and cares for mankind; if thou | |
| findest everything else smaller and of less value than this, give | |
| place to nothing else, for if thou dost once diverge and incline to | |
| it, thou wilt no longer without distraction be able to give the preference | |
| to that good thing which is thy proper possession and thy own; for | |
| it is not right that anything of any other kind, such as praise from | |
| the many, or power, or enjoyment of pleasure, should come into competition | |
| with that which is rationally and politically or practically good. | |
| All these things, even though they may seem to adapt themselves to | |
| the better things in a small degree, obtain the superiority all at | |
| once, and carry us away. But do thou, I say, simply and freely choose | |
| the better, and hold to it.- But that which is useful is the better.- | |
| Well then, if it is useful to thee as a rational being, keep to it; | |
| but if it is only useful to thee as an animal, say so, and maintain | |
| thy judgement without arrogance: only take care that thou makest the | |
| inquiry by a sure method. | |
| Never value anything as profitable to thyself which shall compel thee | |
| to break thy promise, to lose thy self-respect, to hate any man, to | |
| suspect, to curse, to act the hypocrite, to desire anything which | |
| needs walls and curtains: for he who has preferred to everything intelligence | |
| and daemon and the worship of its excellence, acts no tragic part, | |
| does not groan, will not need either solitude or much company; and, | |
| what is chief of all, he will live without either pursuing or flying | |
| from death; but whether for a longer or a shorter time he shall have | |
| the soul inclosed in the body, he cares not at all: for even if he | |
| must depart immediately, he will go as readily as if he were going | |
| to do anything else which can be done with decency and order; taking | |
| care of this only all through life, that his thoughts turn not away | |
| from anything which belongs to an intelligent animal and a member | |
| of a civil community. | |
| In the mind of one who is chastened and purified thou wilt find no | |
| corrupt matter, nor impurity, nor any sore skinned over. Nor is his | |
| life incomplete when fate overtakes him, as one may say of an actor | |
| who leaves the stage before ending and finishing the play. Besides, | |
| there is in him nothing servile, nor affected, nor too closely bound | |
| to other things, nor yet detached from other things, nothing worthy | |
| of blame, nothing which seeks a hiding-place. | |
| Reverence the faculty which produces opinion. On this faculty it entirely | |
| depends whether there shall exist in thy ruling part any opinion inconsistent | |
| with nature and the constitution of the rational animal. And this | |
| faculty promises freedom from hasty judgement, and friendship towards | |
| men, and obedience to the gods. | |
| Throwing away then all things, hold to these only which are few; and | |
| besides bear in mind that every man lives only this present time, | |
| which is an indivisible point, and that all the rest of his life is | |
| either past or it is uncertain. Short then is the time which every | |
| man lives, and small the nook of the earth where he lives; and short | |
| too the longest posthumous fame, and even this only continued by a | |
| succession of poor human beings, who will very soon die, and who know | |
| not even themselves, much less him who died long ago. | |
| To the aids which have been mentioned let this one still be added:- | |
| Make for thyself a definition or description of the thing which is | |
| presented to thee, so as to see distinctly what kind of a thing it | |
| is in its substance, in its nudity, in its complete entirety, and | |
| tell thyself its proper name, and the names of the things of which | |
| it has been compounded, and into which it will be resolved. For nothing | |
| is so productive of elevation of mind as to be able to examine methodically | |
| and truly every object which is presented to thee in life, and always | |
| to look at things so as to see at the same time what kind of universe | |
| this is, and what kind of use everything performs in it, and what | |
| value everything has with reference to the whole, and what with reference | |
| to man, who is a citizen of the highest city, of which all other cities | |
| are like families; what each thing is, and of what it is composed, | |
| and how long it is the nature of this thing to endure which now makes | |
| an impression on me, and what virtue I have need of with respect to | |
| it, such as gentleness, manliness, truth, fidelity, simplicity, contentment, | |
| and the rest. Wherefore, on every occasion a man should say: this | |
| comes from God; and this is according to the apportionment and spinning | |
| of the thread of destiny, and such-like coincidence and chance; and | |
| this is from one of the same stock, and a kinsman and partner, one | |
| who knows not however what is according to his nature. But I know; | |
| for this reason I behave towards him according to the natural law | |
| of fellowship with benevolence and justice. At the same time however | |
| in things indifferent I attempt to ascertain the value of each. | |
| If thou workest at that which is before thee, following right reason | |
| seriously, vigorously, calmly, without allowing anything else to distract | |
| thee, but keeping thy divine part pure, as if thou shouldst be bound | |
| to give it back immediately; if thou holdest to this, expecting nothing, | |
| fearing nothing, but satisfied with thy present activity according | |
| to nature, and with heroic truth in every word and sound which thou | |
| utterest, thou wilt live happy. And there is no man who is able to | |
| prevent this. | |
| As physicians have always their instruments and knives ready for cases | |
| which suddenly require their skill, so do thou have principles ready | |
| for the understanding of things divine and human, and for doing everything, | |
| even the smallest, with a recollection of the bond which unites the | |
| divine and human to one another. For neither wilt thou do anything | |
| well which pertains to man without at the same time having a reference | |
| to things divine; nor the contrary. | |
| No longer wander at hazard; for neither wilt thou read thy own memoirs, | |
| nor the acts of the ancient Romans and Hellenes, and the selections | |
| from books which thou wast reserving for thy old age. Hasten then | |
| to the end which thou hast before thee, and throwing away idle hopes, | |
| come to thy own aid, if thou carest at all for thyself, while it is | |
| in thy power. | |
| They know not how many things are signified by the words stealing, | |
| sowing, buying, keeping quiet, seeing what ought to be done; for this | |
| is not effected by the eyes, but by another kind of vision. | |
| Body, soul, intelligence: to the body belong sensations, to the soul | |
| appetites, to the intelligence principles. To receive the impressions | |
| of forms by means of appearances belongs even to animals; to be pulled | |
| by the strings of desire belongs both to wild beasts and to men who | |
| have made themselves into women, and to a Phalaris and a Nero: and | |
| to have the intelligence that guides to the things which appear suitable | |
| belongs also to those who do not believe in the gods, and who betray | |
| their country, and do their impure deeds when they have shut the doors. | |
| If then everything else is common to all that I have mentioned, there | |
| remains that which is peculiar to the good man, to be pleased and | |
| content with what happens, and with the thread which is spun for him; | |
| and not to defile the divinity which is planted in his breast, nor | |
| disturb it by a crowd of images, but to preserve it tranquil, following | |
| it obediently as a god, neither saying anything contrary to the truth, | |
| nor doing anything contrary to justice. And if all men refuse to believe | |
| that he lives a simple, modest, and contented life, he is neither | |
| angry with any of them, nor does he deviate from the way which leads | |
| to the end of life, to which a man ought to come pure, tranquil, ready | |
| to depart, and without any compulsion perfectly reconciled to his | |
| lot. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK FOUR | |
| That which rules within, when it is according to nature, is so affected | |
| with respect to the events which happen, that it always easily adapts | |
| itself to that which is and is presented to it. For it requires no | |
| definite material, but it moves towards its purpose, under certain | |
| conditions however; and it makes a material for itself out of that | |
| which opposes it, as fire lays hold of what falls into it, by which | |
| a small light would have been extinguished: but when the fire is strong, | |
| it soon appropriates to itself the matter which is heaped on it, and | |
| consumes it, and rises higher by means of this very material. | |
| Let no act be done without a purpose, nor otherwise than according | |
| to the perfect principles of art. | |
| Men seek retreats for themselves, houses in the country, sea-shores, | |
| and mountains; and thou too art wont to desire such things very much. | |
| But this is altogether a mark of the most common sort of men, for | |
| it is in thy power whenever thou shalt choose to retire into thyself. | |
| For nowhere either with more quiet or more freedom from trouble does | |
| a man retire than into his own soul, particularly when he has within | |
| him such thoughts that by looking into them he is immediately in perfect | |
| tranquility; and I affirm that tranquility is nothing else than the | |
| good ordering of the mind. Constantly then give to thyself this retreat, | |
| and renew thyself; and let thy principles be brief and fundamental, | |
| which, as soon as thou shalt recur to them, will be sufficient to | |
| cleanse the soul completely, and to send thee back free from all discontent | |
| with the things to which thou returnest. For with what art thou discontented? | |
| With the badness of men? Recall to thy mind this conclusion, that | |
| rational animals exist for one another, and that to endure is a part | |
| of justice, and that men do wrong involuntarily; and consider how | |
| many already, after mutual enmity, suspicion, hatred, and fighting, | |
| have been stretched dead, reduced to ashes; and be quiet at last.- | |
| But perhaps thou art dissatisfied with that which is assigned to thee | |
| out of the universe.- Recall to thy recollection this alternative; | |
| either there is providence or atoms, fortuitous concurrence of things; | |
| or remember the arguments by which it has been proved that the world | |
| is a kind of political community, and be quiet at last.- But perhaps | |
| corporeal things will still fasten upon thee.- Consider then further | |
| that the mind mingles not with the breath, whether moving gently or | |
| violently, when it has once drawn itself apart and discovered its | |
| own power, and think also of all that thou hast heard and assented | |
| to about pain and pleasure, and be quiet at last.- But perhaps the | |
| desire of the thing called fame will torment thee.- See how soon everything | |
| is forgotten, and look at the chaos of infinite time on each side | |
| of the present, and the emptiness of applause, and the changeableness | |
| and want of judgement in those who pretend to give praise, and the | |
| narrowness of the space within which it is circumscribed, and be quiet | |
| at last. For the whole earth is a point, and how small a nook in it | |
| is this thy dwelling, and how few are there in it, and what kind of | |
| people are they who will praise thee. | |
| This then remains: Remember to retire into this little territory of | |
| thy own, and above all do not distract or strain thyself, but be free, | |
| and look at things as a man, as a human being, as a citizen, as a | |
| mortal. But among the things readiest to thy hand to which thou shalt | |
| turn, let there be these, which are two. One is that things do not | |
| touch the soul, for they are external and remain immovable; but our | |
| perturbations come only from the opinion which is within. The other | |
| is that all these things, which thou seest, change immediately and | |
| will no longer be; and constantly bear in mind how many of these changes | |
| thou hast already witnessed. The universe is transformation: life | |
| is opinion. | |
| If our intellectual part is common, the reason also, in respect of | |
| which we are rational beings, is common: if this is so, common also | |
| is the reason which commands us what to do, and what not to do; if | |
| this is so, there is a common law also; if this is so, we are fellow-citizens; | |
| if this is so, we are members of some political community; if this | |
| is so, the world is in a manner a state. For of what other common | |
| political community will any one say that the whole human race are | |
| members? And from thence, from this common political community comes | |
| also our very intellectual faculty and reasoning faculty and our capacity | |
| for law; or whence do they come? For as my earthly part is a portion | |
| given to me from certain earth, and that which is watery from another | |
| element, and that which is hot and fiery from some peculiar source | |
| (for nothing comes out of that which is nothing, as nothing also returns | |
| to non-existence), so also the intellectual part comes from some source. | |
| Death is such as generation is, a mystery of nature; a composition | |
| out of the same elements, and a decomposition into the same; and altogether | |
| not a thing of which any man should be ashamed, for it is not contrary | |
| to the nature of a reasonable animal, and not contrary to the reason | |
| of our constitution. | |
| It is natural that these things should be done by such persons, it | |
| is a matter of necessity; and if a man will not have it so, he will | |
| not allow the fig-tree to have juice. But by all means bear this in | |
| mind, that within a very short time both thou and he will be dead; | |
| and soon not even your names will be left behind. | |
| Take away thy opinion, and then there is taken away the complaint, | |
| "I have been harmed." Take away the complaint, "I have been harmed," | |
| and the harm is taken away. | |
| That which does not make a man worse than he was, also does not make | |
| his life worse, nor does it harm him either from without or from within. | |
| The nature of that which is universally useful has been compelled | |
| to do this. | |
| Consider that everything which happens, happens justly, and if thou | |
| observest carefully, thou wilt find it to be so. I do not say only | |
| with respect to the continuity of the series of things, but with respect | |
| to what is just, and as if it were done by one who assigns to each | |
| thing its value. Observe then as thou hast begun; and whatever thou | |
| doest, do it in conjunction with this, the being good, and in the | |
| sense in which a man is properly understood to be good. Keep to this | |
| in every action. | |
| Do not have such an opinion of things as he has who does thee wrong, | |
| or such as he wishes thee to have, but look at them as they are in | |
| truth. | |
| A man should always have these two rules in readiness; the one, to | |
| do only whatever the reason of the ruling and legislating faculty | |
| may suggest for the use of men; the other, to change thy opinion, | |
| if there is any one at hand who sets thee right and moves thee from | |
| any opinion. But this change of opinion must proceed only from a certain | |
| persuasion, as of what is just or of common advantage, and the like, | |
| not because it appears pleasant or brings reputation. | |
| Hast thou reason? I have.- Why then dost not thou use it? For if this | |
| does its own work, what else dost thou wish? | |
| Thou hast existed as a part. Thou shalt disappear in that which produced | |
| thee; but rather thou shalt be received back into its seminal principle | |
| by transmutation. | |
| Many grains of frankincense on the same altar: one falls before, another | |
| falls after; but it makes no difference. | |
| Within ten days thou wilt seem a god to those to whom thou art now | |
| a beast and an ape, if thou wilt return to thy principles and the | |
| worship of reason. | |
| Do not act as if thou wert going to live ten thousand years. Death | |
| hangs over thee. While thou livest, while it is in thy power, be good. | |
| How much trouble he avoids who does not look to see what his neighbour | |
| says or does or thinks, but only to what he does himself, that it | |
| may be just and pure; or as Agathon says, look not round at the depraved | |
| morals of others, but run straight along the line without deviating | |
| from it. | |
| He who has a vehement desire for posthumous fame does not consider | |
| that every one of those who remember him will himself also die very | |
| soon; then again also they who have succeeded them, until the whole | |
| remembrance shall have been extinguished as it is transmitted through | |
| men who foolishly admire and perish. But suppose that those who will | |
| remember are even immortal, and that the remembrance will be immortal, | |
| what then is this to thee? And I say not what is it to the dead, but | |
| what is it to the living? What is praise except indeed so far as it | |
| has a certain utility? For thou now rejectest unseasonably the gift | |
| of nature, clinging to something else... | |
| Everything which is in any way beautiful is beautiful in itself, and | |
| terminates in itself, not having praise as part of itself. Neither | |
| worse then nor better is a thing made by being praised. I affirm this | |
| also of the things which are called beautiful by the vulgar, for example, | |
| material things and works of art. That which is really beautiful has | |
| no need of anything; not more than law, not more than truth, not more | |
| than benevolence or modesty. Which of these things is beautiful because | |
| it is praised, or spoiled by being blamed? Is such a thing as an emerald | |
| made worse than it was, if it is not praised? Or gold, ivory, purple, | |
| a lyre, a little knife, a flower, a shrub? | |
| If souls continue to exist, how does the air contain them from eternity?- | |
| But how does the earth contain the bodies of those who have been buried | |
| from time so remote? For as here the mutation of these bodies after | |
| a certain continuance, whatever it may be, and their dissolution make | |
| room for other dead bodies; so the souls which are removed into the | |
| air after subsisting for some time are transmuted and diffused, and | |
| assume a fiery nature by being received into the seminal intelligence | |
| of the universe, and in this way make room for the fresh souls which | |
| come to dwell there. And this is the answer which a man might give | |
| on the hypothesis of souls continuing to exist. But we must not only | |
| think of the number of bodies which are thus buried, but also of the | |
| number of animals which are daily eaten by us and the other animals. | |
| For what a number is consumed, and thus in a manner buried in the | |
| bodies of those who feed on them! And nevertheless this earth receives | |
| them by reason of the changes of these bodies into blood, and the | |
| transformations into the aerial or the fiery element. | |
| What is the investigation into the truth in this matter? The division | |
| into that which is material and that which is the cause of form, the | |
| formal. | |
| Do not be whirled about, but in every movement have respect to justice, | |
| and on the occasion of every impression maintain the faculty of comprehension | |
| or understanding. | |
| Everything harmonizes with me, which is harmonious to thee, O Universe. | |
| Nothing for me is too early nor too late, which is in due time for | |
| thee. Everything is fruit to me which thy seasons bring, O Nature: | |
| from thee are all things, in thee are all things, to thee all things | |
| return. The poet says, Dear city of Cecrops; and wilt not thou say, | |
| Dear city of Zeus? | |
| Occupy thyself with few things, says the philosopher, if thou wouldst | |
| be tranquil.- But consider if it would not be better to say, Do what | |
| is necessary, and whatever the reason of the animal which is naturally | |
| social requires, and as it requires. For this brings not only the | |
| tranquility which comes from doing well, but also that which comes | |
| from doing few things. For the greatest part of what we say and do | |
| being unnecessary, if a man takes this away, he will have more leisure | |
| and less uneasiness. Accordingly on every occasion a man should ask | |
| himself, Is this one of the unnecessary things? Now a man should take | |
| away not only unnecessary acts, but also, unnecessary thoughts, for | |
| thus superfluous acts will not follow after. | |
| Try how the life of the good man suits thee, the life of him who is | |
| satisfied with his portion out of the whole, and satisfied with his | |
| own just acts and benevolent disposition. | |
| Hast thou seen those things? Look also at these. Do not disturb thyself. | |
| Make thyself all simplicity. Does any one do wrong? It is to himself | |
| that he does the wrong. Has anything happened to thee? Well; out of | |
| the universe from the beginning everything which happens has been | |
| apportioned and spun out to thee. In a word, thy life is short. Thou | |
| must turn to profit the present by the aid of reason and justice. | |
| Be sober in thy relaxation. | |
| Either it is a well-arranged universe or a chaos huddled together, | |
| but still a universe. But can a certain order subsist in thee, and | |
| disorder in the All? And this too when all things are so separated | |
| and diffused and sympathetic. | |
| A black character, a womanish character, a stubborn character, bestial, | |
| childish, animal, stupid, counterfeit, scurrilous, fraudulent, tyrannical. | |
| If he is a stranger to the universe who does not know what is in it, | |
| no less is he a stranger who does not know what is going on in it. | |
| He is a runaway, who flies from social reason; he is blind, who shuts | |
| the eyes of the understanding; he is poor, who has need of another, | |
| and has not from himself all things which are useful for life. He | |
| is an abscess on the universe who withdraws and separates himself | |
| from the reason of our common nature through being displeased with | |
| the things which happen, for the same nature produces this, and has | |
| produced thee too: he is a piece rent asunder from the state, who | |
| tears his own soul from that of reasonable animals, which is one. | |
| The one is a philosopher without a tunic, and the other without a | |
| book: here is another half naked: Bread I have not, he says, and I | |
| abide by reason.- And I do not get the means of living out of my learning, | |
| and I abide by my reason. | |
| Love the art, poor as it may be, which thou hast learned, and be content | |
| with it; and pass through the rest of life like one who has intrusted | |
| to the gods with his whole soul all that he has, making thyself neither | |
| the tyrant nor the slave of any man. | |
| Consider, for example, the times of Vespasian. Thou wilt see all these | |
| things, people marrying, bringing up children, sick, dying, warring, | |
| feasting, trafficking, cultivating the ground, flattering, obstinately | |
| arrogant, suspecting, plotting, wishing for some to die, grumbling | |
| about the present, loving, heaping up treasure, desiring counsulship, | |
| kingly power. Well then, that life of these people no longer exists | |
| at all. Again, remove to the times of Trajan. Again, all is the same. | |
| Their life too is gone. In like manner view also the other epochs | |
| of time and of whole nations, and see how many after great efforts | |
| soon fell and were resolved into the elements. But chiefly thou shouldst | |
| think of those whom thou hast thyself known distracting themselves | |
| about idle things, neglecting to do what was in accordance with their | |
| proper constitution, and to hold firmly to this and to be content | |
| with it. And herein it is necessary to remember that the attention | |
| given to everything has its proper value and proportion. For thus | |
| thou wilt not be dissatisfied, if thou appliest thyself to smaller | |
| matters no further than is fit. | |
| The words which were formerly familiar are now antiquated: so also | |
| the names of those who were famed of old, are now in a manner antiquated, | |
| Camillus, Caeso, Volesus, Leonnatus, and a little after also Scipio | |
| and Cato, then Augustus, then also Hadrian and Antoninus. For all | |
| things soon pass away and become a mere tale, and complete oblivion | |
| soon buries them. And I say this of those who have shone in a wondrous | |
| way. For the rest, as soon as they have breathed out their breath, | |
| they are gone, and no man speaks of them. And, to conclude the matter, | |
| what is even an eternal remembrance? A mere nothing. What then is | |
| that about which we ought to employ our serious pains? This one thing, | |
| thoughts just, and acts social, and words which never lie, and a disposition | |
| which gladly accepts all that happens, as necessary, as usual, as | |
| flowing from a principle and source of the same kind. | |
| Willingly give thyself up to Clotho, one of the Fates, allowing her | |
| to spin thy thread into whatever things she pleases. | |
| Everything is only for a day, both that which remembers and that which | |
| is remembered. | |
| Observe constantly that all things take place by change, and accustom | |
| thyself to consider that the nature of the Universe loves nothing | |
| so much as to change the things which are and to make new things like | |
| them. For everything that exists is in a manner the seed of that which | |
| will be. But thou art thinking only of seeds which are cast into the | |
| earth or into a womb: but this is a very vulgar notion. | |
| Thou wilt soon die, and thou art not yet simple, not free from perturbations, | |
| nor without suspicion of being hurt by external things, nor kindly | |
| disposed towards all; nor dost thou yet place wisdom only in acting | |
| justly. | |
| Examine men's ruling principles, even those of the wise, what kind | |
| of things they avoid, and what kind they pursue. | |
| What is evil to thee does not subsist in the ruling principle of another; | |
| nor yet in any turning and mutation of thy corporeal covering. Where | |
| is it then? It is in that part of thee in which subsists the power | |
| of forming opinions about evils. Let this power then not form such | |
| opinions, and all is well. And if that which is nearest to it, the | |
| poor body, is burnt, filled with matter and rottenness, nevertheless | |
| let the part which forms opinions about these things be quiet, that | |
| is, let it judge that nothing is either bad or good which can happen | |
| equally to the bad man and the good. For that which happens equally | |
| to him who lives contrary to nature and to him who lives according | |
| to nature, is neither according to nature nor contrary to nature. | |
| Constantly regard the universe as one living being, having one substance | |
| and one soul; and observe how all things have reference to one perception, | |
| the perception of this one living being; and how all things act with | |
| one movement; and how all things are the cooperating causes of all | |
| things which exist; observe too the continuous spinning of the thread | |
| and the contexture of the web. | |
| Thou art a little soul bearing about a corpse, as Epictetus used to | |
| say. | |
| It is no evil for things to undergo change, and no good for things | |
| to subsist in consequence of change. | |
| Time is like a river made up of the events which happen, and a violent | |
| stream; for as soon as a thing has been seen, it is carried away, | |
| and another comes in its place, and this will be carried away too. | |
| Everything which happens is as familiar and well known as the rose | |
| in spring and the fruit in summer; for such is disease, and death, | |
| and calumny, and treachery, and whatever else delights fools or vexes | |
| them. | |
| In the series of things those which follow are always aptly fitted | |
| to those which have gone before; for this series is not like a mere | |
| enumeration of disjointed things, which has only a necessary sequence, | |
| but it is a rational connection: and as all existing things are arranged | |
| together harmoniously, so the things which come into existence exhibit | |
| no mere succession, but a certain wonderful relationship. | |
| Always remember the saying of Heraclitus, that the death of earth | |
| is to become water, and the death of water is to become air, and the | |
| death of air is to become fire, and reversely. And think too of him | |
| who forgets whither the way leads, and that men quarrel with that | |
| with which they are most constantly in communion, the reason which | |
| governs the universe; and the things which daily meet with seem to | |
| them strange: and consider that we ought not to act and speak as if | |
| we were asleep, for even in sleep we seem to act and speak; and that | |
| we ought not, like children who learn from their parents, simply to | |
| act and speak as we have been taught. | |
| If any god told thee that thou shalt die to-morrow, or certainly on | |
| the day after to-morrow, thou wouldst not care much whether it was | |
| on the third day or on the morrow, unless thou wast in the highest | |
| degree mean-spirited- for how small is the difference?- So think it | |
| no great thing to die after as many years as thou canst name rather | |
| than to-morrow. | |
| Think continually how many physicians are dead after often contracting | |
| their eyebrows over the sick; and how many astrologers after predicting | |
| with great pretensions the deaths of others; and how many philosophers | |
| after endless discourses on death or immortality; how many heroes | |
| after killing thousands; and how many tyrants who have used their | |
| power over men's lives with terrible insolence as if they were immortal; | |
| and how many cities are entirely dead, so to speak, Helice and Pompeii | |
| and Herculaneum, and others innumerable. Add to the reckoning all | |
| whom thou hast known, one after another. One man after burying another | |
| has been laid out dead, and another buries him: and all this in a | |
| short time. To conclude, always observe how ephemeral and worthless | |
| human things are, and what was yesterday a little mucus to-morrow | |
| will be a mummy or ashes. Pass then through this little space of time | |
| conformably to nature, and end thy journey in content, just as an | |
| olive falls off when it is ripe, blessing nature who produced it, | |
| and thanking the tree on which it grew. | |
| Be like the promontory against which the waves continually break, | |
| but it stands firm and tames the fury of the water around it. | |
| Unhappy am I because this has happened to me.- Not so, but happy am | |
| I, though this has happened to me, because I continue free from pain, | |
| neither crushed by the present nor fearing the future. For such a | |
| thing as this might have happened to every man; but every man would | |
| not have continued free from pain on such an occasion. Why then is | |
| that rather a misfortune than this a good fortune? And dost thou in | |
| all cases call that a man's misfortune, which is not a deviation from | |
| man's nature? And does a thing seem to thee to be a deviation from | |
| man's nature, when it is not contrary to the will of man's nature? | |
| Well, thou knowest the will of nature. Will then this which has happened | |
| prevent thee from being just, magnanimous, temperate, prudent, secure | |
| against inconsiderate opinions and falsehood; will it prevent thee | |
| from having modesty, freedom, and everything else, by the presence | |
| of which man's nature obtains all that is its own? Remember too on | |
| every occasion which leads thee to vexation to apply this principle: | |
| not that this is a misfortune, but that to bear it nobly is good fortune. | |
| It is a vulgar, but still a useful help towards contempt of death, | |
| to pass in review those who have tenaciously stuck to life. What more | |
| then have they gained than those who have died early? Certainly they | |
| lie in their tombs somewhere at last, Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, | |
| Lepidus, or any one else like them, who have carried out many to be | |
| buried, and then were carried out themselves. Altogether the interval | |
| is small between birth and death; and consider with how much trouble, | |
| and in company with what sort of people and in what a feeble body | |
| this interval is laboriously passed. Do not then consider life a thing | |
| of any value. For look to the immensity of time behind thee, and to | |
| the time which is before thee, another boundless space. In this infinity | |
| then what is the difference between him who lives three days and him | |
| who lives three generations? | |
| Always run to the short way; and the short way is the natural: accordingly | |
| say and do everything in conformity with the soundest reason. For | |
| such a purpose frees a man from trouble, and warfare, and all artifice | |
| and ostentatious display. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK FIVE | |
| In he morning when thou risest unwillingly, let this thought be present- | |
| I am rising to the work of a human being. Why then am I dissatisfied | |
| if I am going to do the things for which I exist and for which I was | |
| brought into the world? Or have I been made for this, to lie in the | |
| bed-clothes and keep myself warm?- But this is more pleasant.- Dost | |
| thou exist then to take thy pleasure, and not at all for action or | |
| exertion? Dost thou not see the little plants, the little birds, the | |
| ants, the spiders, the bees working together to put in order their | |
| several parts of the universe? And art thou unwilling to do the work | |
| of a human being, and dost thou not make haste to do that which is | |
| according to thy nature?- But it is necessary to take rest also.- | |
| It is necessary: however nature has fixed bounds to this too: she | |
| has fixed bounds both to eating and drinking, and yet thou goest beyond | |
| these bounds, beyond what is sufficient; yet in thy acts it is not | |
| so, but thou stoppest short of what thou canst do. So thou lovest | |
| not thyself, for if thou didst, thou wouldst love thy nature and her | |
| will. But those who love their several arts exhaust themselves in | |
| working at them unwashed and without food; but thou valuest thy own | |
| own nature less than the turner values the turning art, or the dancer | |
| the dancing art, or the lover of money values his money, or the vainglorious | |
| man his little glory. And such men, when they have a violent affection | |
| to a thing, choose neither to eat nor to sleep rather than to perfect | |
| the things which they care for. But are the acts which concern society | |
| more vile in thy eyes and less worthy of thy labour? | |
| How easy it is to repel and to wipe away every impression which is | |
| troublesome or unsuitable, and immediately to be in all tranquility. | |
| Judge every word and deed which are according to nature to be fit | |
| for thee; and be not diverted by the blame which follows from any | |
| people nor by their words, but if a thing is good to be done or said, | |
| do not consider it unworthy of thee. For those persons have their | |
| peculiar leading principle and follow their peculiar movement; which | |
| things do not thou regard, but go straight on, following thy own nature | |
| and the common nature; and the way of both is one. | |
| I go through the things which happen according to nature until I shall | |
| fall and rest, breathing out my breath into that element out of which | |
| I daily draw it in, and falling upon that earth out of which my father | |
| collected the seed, and my mother the blood, and my nurse the milk; | |
| out of which during so many years I have been supplied with food and | |
| drink; which bears me when I tread on it and abuse it for so many | |
| purposes. | |
| Thou sayest, Men cannot admire the sharpness of thy wits.- Be it so: | |
| but there are many other things of which thou canst not say, I am | |
| not formed for them by nature. Show those qualities then which are | |
| altogether in thy power, sincerity, gravity, endurance of labour, | |
| aversion to pleasure, contentment with thy portion and with few things, | |
| benevolence, frankness, no love of superfluity, freedom from trifling | |
| magnanimity. Dost thou not see how many qualities thou art immediately | |
| able to exhibit, in which there is no excuse of natural incapacity | |
| and unfitness, and yet thou still remainest voluntarily below the | |
| mark? Or art thou compelled through being defectively furnished by | |
| nature to murmur, and to be stingy, and to flatter, and to find fault | |
| with thy poor body, and to try to please men, and to make great display, | |
| and to be so restless in thy mind? No, by the gods: but thou mightest | |
| have been delivered from these things long ago. Only if in truth thou | |
| canst be charged with being rather slow and dull of comprehension, | |
| thou must exert thyself about this also, not neglecting it nor yet | |
| taking pleasure in thy dulness. | |
| One man, when he has done a service to another, is ready to set it | |
| down to his account as a favour conferred. Another is not ready to | |
| do this, but still in his own mind he thinks of the man as his debtor, | |
| and he knows what he has done. A third in a manner does not even know | |
| what he has done, but he is like a vine which has produced grapes, | |
| and seeks for nothing more after it has once produced its proper fruit. | |
| As a horse when he has run, a dog when he has tracked the game, a | |
| bee when it has made the honey, so a man when he has done a good act, | |
| does not call out for others to come and see, but he goes on to another | |
| act, as a vine goes on to produce again the grapes in season.- Must | |
| a man then be one of these, who in a manner act thus without observing | |
| it?- Yes.- But this very thing is necessary, the observation of what | |
| a man is doing: for, it may be said, it is characteristic of the social | |
| animal to perceive that he is working in a social manner, and indeed | |
| to wish that his social partner also should perceive it.- It is true | |
| what thou sayest, but thou dost not rightly understand what is now | |
| said: and for this reason thou wilt become one of those of whom I | |
| spoke before, for even they are misled by a certain show of reason. | |
| But if thou wilt choose to understand the meaning of what is said, | |
| do not fear that for this reason thou wilt omit any social act. | |
| A prayer of the Athenians: Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, down on the ploughed | |
| fields of the Athenians and on the plains.- In truth we ought not | |
| to pray at all, or we ought to pray in this simple and noble fashion. | |
| Just as we must understand when it is said, That Aesculapius prescribed | |
| to this man horse-exercise, or bathing in cold water or going without | |
| shoes; so we must understand it when it is said, That the nature of | |
| the universe prescribed to this man disease or mutilation or loss | |
| or anything else of the kind. For in the first case Prescribed means | |
| something like this: he prescribed this for this man as a thing adapted | |
| to procure health; and in the second case it means: That which happens | |
| to (or, suits) every man is fixed in a manner for him suitably to | |
| his destiny. For this is what we mean when we say that things are | |
| suitable to us, as the workmen say of squared stones in walls or the | |
| pyramids, that they are suitable, when they fit them to one another | |
| in some kind of connexion. For there is altogether one fitness, harmony. | |
| And as the universe is made up out of all bodies to be such a body | |
| as it is, so out of all existing causes necessity (destiny) is made | |
| up to be such a cause as it is. And even those who are completely | |
| ignorant understand what I mean, for they say, It (necessity, destiny) | |
| brought this to such a person.- This then was brought and this was | |
| precribed to him. Let us then receive these things, as well as those | |
| which Aesculapius prescribes. Many as a matter of course even among | |
| his prescriptions are disagreeable, but we accept them in the hope | |
| of health. Let the perfecting and accomplishment of the things, which | |
| the common nature judges to be good, be judged by thee to be of the | |
| same kind as thy health. And so accept everything which happens, even | |
| if it seem disagreeable, because it leads to this, to the health of | |
| the universe and to the prosperity and felicity of Zeus (the universe). | |
| For he would not have brought on any man what he has brought, if it | |
| were not useful for the whole. Neither does the nature of anything, | |
| whatever it may be, cause anything which is not suitable to that which | |
| is directed by it. For two reasons then it is right to be content | |
| with that which happens to thee; the one, because it was done for | |
| thee and prescribed for thee, and in a manner had reference to thee, | |
| originally from the most ancient causes spun with thy destiny; and | |
| the other, because even that which comes severally to every man is | |
| to the power which administers the universe a cause of felicity and | |
| perfection, nay even of its very continuance. For the integrity of | |
| the whole is mutilated, if thou cuttest off anything whatever from | |
| the conjunction and the continuity either of the parts or of the causes. | |
| And thou dost cut off, as far as it is in thy power, when thou art | |
| dissatisfied, and in a manner triest to put anything out of the way. | |
| Be not disgusted, nor discouraged, nor dissatisfied, if thou dost | |
| not succeed in doing everything according to right principles; but | |
| when thou bast failed, return back again, and be content if the greater | |
| part of what thou doest is consistent with man's nature, and love | |
| this to which thou returnest; and do not return to philosophy as if | |
| she were a master, but act like those who have sore eyes and apply | |
| a bit of sponge and egg, or as another applies a plaster, or drenching | |
| with water. For thus thou wilt not fail to obey reason, and thou wilt | |
| repose in it. And remember that philosophy requires only the things | |
| which thy nature requires; but thou wouldst have something else which | |
| is not according to nature.- It may be objected, Why what is more | |
| agreeable than this which I am doing?- But is not this the very reason | |
| why pleasure deceives us? And consider if magnanimity, freedom, simplicity, | |
| equanimity, piety, are not more agreeable. For what is more agreeable | |
| than wisdom itself, when thou thinkest of the security and the happy | |
| course of all things which depend on the faculty of understanding | |
| and knowledge? | |
| Things are in such a kind of envelopment that they have seemed to | |
| philosophers, not a few nor those common philosophers, altogether | |
| unintelligible; nay even to the Stoics themselves they seem difficult | |
| to understand. And all our assent is changeable; for where is the | |
| man who never changes? Carry thy thoughts then to the objects themselves, | |
| and consider how short-lived they are and worthless, and that they | |
| may be in the possession of a filthy wretch or a whore or a robber. | |
| Then turn to the morals of those who live with thee, and it is hardly | |
| possible to endure even the most agreeable of them, to say nothing | |
| of a man being hardly able to endure himself. In such darkness then | |
| and dirt and in so constant a flux both of substance and of time, | |
| and of motion and of things moved, what there is worth being highly | |
| prized or even an object of serious pursuit, I cannot imagine. But | |
| on the contrary it is a man's duty to comfort himself, and to wait | |
| for the | |
| natural dissolution and not to be vexed at the delay, but to rest | |
| in these principles only: the one, that nothing will happen to me | |
| which is not conformable to the nature of the universe; and the other, | |
| that it is in my power never to act contrary to my god and daemon: | |
| for there is no man who will compel me to this. | |
| About what am I now employing my own soul? On every occasion I must | |
| ask myself this question, and inquire, what have I now in this part | |
| of me which they call the ruling principle? And whose soul have I | |
| now? That of a child, or of a young man, or of a feeble woman, or | |
| of a tyrant, or of a domestic animal, or of a wild beast? | |
| What kind of things those are which appear good to the many, we may | |
| learn even from this. For if any man should conceive certain things | |
| as being really good, such as prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude, | |
| he would not after having first conceived these endure to listen to | |
| anything which should not be in harmony with what is really good. | |
| But if a man has first conceived as good the things which appear to | |
| the many to be good, he will listen and readily receive as very applicable | |
| that which was said by the comic writer. Thus even the many perceive | |
| the difference. For were it not so, this saying would not offend and | |
| would not be rejected in the first case, while we receive it when | |
| it is said of wealth, and of the means which further luxury and fame, | |
| as said fitly and wittily. Go on then and ask if we should value and | |
| think those things to be good, to which after their first conception | |
| in the mind the words of the comic writer might be aptly applied- | |
| that he who has them, through pure abundance has not a place to ease | |
| himself in. | |
| I am composed of the formal and the material; and neither of them | |
| will perish into non-existence, as neither of them came into existence | |
| out of non-existence. Every part of me then will be reduced by change | |
| into some part of the universe, and that again will change into another | |
| part of the universe, and so on for ever. And by consequence of such | |
| a change I too exist, and those who begot me, and so on for ever in | |
| the other direction. For nothing hinders us from saying so, even if | |
| the universe is administered according to definite periods of revolution. | |
| Reason and the reasoning art (philosophy) are powers which are sufficient | |
| for themselves and for their own works. They move then from a first | |
| principle which is their own, and they make their way to the end which | |
| is proposed to them; and this is the reason why such acts are named | |
| catorthoseis or right acts, which word signifies that they proceed | |
| by the right road. | |
| None of these things ought to be called a man's, which do not belong | |
| to a man, as man. They are not required of a man, nor does man's nature | |
| promise them, nor are they the means of man's nature attaining its | |
| end. Neither then does the end of man lie in these things, nor yet | |
| that which aids to the accomplishment of this end, and that which | |
| aids towards this end is that which is good. Besides, if any of these | |
| things did belong to man, it would not be right for a man to despise | |
| them and to set himself against them; nor would a man be worthy of | |
| praise who showed that he did not want these things, nor would he | |
| who stinted himself in any of them be good, if indeed these things | |
| were good. But now the more of these things a man deprives himself | |
| of, or of other things like them, or even when he is deprived of any | |
| of them, the more patiently he endures the loss, just in the same | |
| degree he is a better man. | |
| Such as are thy habitual thoughts, such also will be the character | |
| of thy mind; for the soul is dyed by the thoughts. Dye it then with | |
| a continuous series of such thoughts as these: for instance, that | |
| where a man can live, there he can also live well. But he must live | |
| in a palace;- well then, he can also live well in a palace. And again, | |
| consider that for whatever purpose each thing has been constituted, | |
| for this it has been constituted, and towards this it is carried; | |
| and its end is in that towards which it is carried; and where the | |
| end is, there also is the advantage and the good of each thing. Now | |
| the good for the reasonable animal is society; for that we are made | |
| for society has been shown above. Is it not plain that the inferior | |
| exist for the sake of the superior? But the things which have life | |
| are superior to those which have not life, and of those which have | |
| life the superior are those which have reason. | |
| To seek what is impossible is madness: and it is impossible that the | |
| bad should not do something of this kind. | |
| Nothing happens to any man which he is not formed by nature to bear. | |
| The same things happen to another, and either because he does not | |
| see that they have happened or because he would show a great spirit | |
| he is firm and remains unharmed. It is a shame then that ignorance | |
| and conceit should be stronger than wisdom. | |
| Things themselves touch not the soul, not in the least degree; nor | |
| have they admission to the soul, nor can they turn or move the soul: | |
| but the soul turns and moves itself alone, and whatever judgements | |
| it may think proper to make, such it makes for itself the things which | |
| present themselves to it. | |
| In one respect man is the nearest thing to me, so far as I must do | |
| good to men and endure them. But so far as some men make themselves | |
| obstacles to my proper acts, man becomes to me one of the things which | |
| are indifferent, no less than the sun or wind or a wild beast. Now | |
| it is true that these may impede my action, but they are no impediments | |
| to my affects and disposition, which have the power of acting conditionally | |
| and changing: for the mind converts and changes every hindrance to | |
| its activity into an aid; and so that which is a hindrance is made | |
| a furtherance to an act; and that which is an obstacle on the road | |
| helps us on this road. | |
| Reverence that which is best in the universe; and this is that which | |
| makes use of all things and directs all things. And in like manner | |
| also reverence that which is best in thyself; and this is of the same | |
| kind as that. For in thyself also, that which makes use of everything | |
| else, is this, and thy life is directed by this. | |
| That which does no harm to the state, does no harm to the citizen. | |
| In the case of every appearance of harm apply this rule: if the state | |
| is not harmed by this, neither am I harmed. But if the state is harmed, | |
| thou must not be angry with him who does harm to the state. Show him | |
| where his error is. | |
| Often think of the rapidity with which things pass by and disappear, | |
| both the things which are and the things which are produced. For substance | |
| is like a river in a continual flow, and the activities of things | |
| are in constant change, and the causes work in infinite varieties; | |
| and there is hardly anything which stands still. And consider this | |
| which is near to thee, this boundless abyss of the past and of the | |
| future in which all things disappear. How then is he not a fool who | |
| is puffed up with such things or plagued about them and makes himself | |
| miserable? for they vex him only for a time, and a short time. | |
| Think of the universal substance, of which thou hast a very small | |
| portion; and of universal time, of which a short and indivisible interval | |
| has been assigned to thee; and of that which is fixed by destiny, | |
| and how small a part of it thou art. | |
| Does another do me wrong? Let him look to it. He has his own disposition, | |
| his own activity. I now have what the universal nature wills me to | |
| have; and I do what my nature now wills me to do. | |
| Let the part of thy soul which leads and governs be undisturbed by | |
| the movements in the flesh, whether of pleasure or of pain; and let | |
| it not unite with them, but let it circumscribe itself and limit those | |
| affects to their parts. But when these affects rise up to the mind | |
| by virtue of that other sympathy that naturally exists in a body which | |
| is all one, then thou must not strive to resist the sensation, for | |
| it is natural: but let not the ruling part of itself add to the sensation | |
| the opinion that it is either good or bad. | |
| Live with the gods. And he does live with the gods who constantly | |
| shows to them, his own soul is satisfied with that which is assigned | |
| to him, and that it does all that the daemon wishes, which Zeus hath | |
| given to every man for his guardian and guide, a portion of himself. | |
| And this is every man's understanding and reason. | |
| Art thou angry with him whose armpits stink? Art thou angry with him | |
| whose mouth smells foul? What good will this danger do thee? He has | |
| such a mouth, he has such arm-pits: it is necessary that such an emanation | |
| must come from such things- but the man has reason, it will be said, | |
| and he is able, if he takes pain, to discover wherein he offends- | |
| I wish thee well of thy discovery. Well then, and thou hast reason: | |
| by thy rational faculty stir up his rational faculty; show him his | |
| error, admonish him. For if he listens, thou wilt cure him, and there | |
| is no need of anger. Neither tragic actor nor whore... | |
| As thou intendest to live when thou art gone out,...so it is in thy | |
| power to live here. But if men do not permit thee, then get away out | |
| of life, yet so as if thou wert suffering no harm. The house is smoky, | |
| and I quit it. Why dost thou think that this is any trouble? But so | |
| long as nothing of the kind drives me out, I remain, am free, and | |
| no man shall hinder me from doing what I choose; and I choose to do | |
| what is according to the nature of the rational and social animal. | |
| The intelligence of the universe is social. Accordingly it has made | |
| the inferior things for the sake of the superior, and it has fitted | |
| the superior to one another. Thou seest how it has subordinated, co-ordinated | |
| and assigned to everything its proper portion, and has brought together | |
| into concord with one another the things which are the best. | |
| How hast thou behaved hitherto to the gods, thy parents, brethren, | |
| children, teachers, to those who looked after thy infancy, to thy | |
| friends, kinsfolk, to thy slaves? Consider if thou hast hitherto behaved | |
| to all in such a way that this may be said of thee: | |
| Never has wronged a man in deed or word. And call to recollection | |
| both how many things thou hast passed through, and how many things | |
| thou hast been able to endure: and that the history of thy life is | |
| now complete and thy service is ended: and how many beautiful things | |
| thou hast seen: and how many pleasures and pains thou hast despised; | |
| and how many things called honourable thou hast spurned; and to how | |
| many ill-minded folks thou hast shown a kind disposition. | |
| Why do unskilled and ignorant souls disturb him who has skill and | |
| knowledge? What soul then has skill and knowledge? That which knows | |
| beginning and end, and knows the reason which pervades all substance | |
| and through all time by fixed periods (revolutions) administers the | |
| universe. | |
| Soon, very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or a skeleton, and either a name | |
| or not even a name; but name is sound and echo. And the things which | |
| are much valued in life are empty and rotten and trifling, and like | |
| little dogs biting one another, and little children quarrelling, laughing, | |
| and then straightway weeping. But fidelity and modesty and justice | |
| and truth are fled | |
| Up to Olympus from the wide-spread earth. What then is there which | |
| still detains thee here? If the objects of sense are easily changed | |
| and never stand still, and the organs of perception are dull and easily | |
| receive false impressions; and the poor soul itself is an exhalation | |
| from blood. But to have good repute amidst such a world as this is | |
| an empty thing. Why then dost thou not wait in tranquility for thy | |
| end, whether it is extinction or removal to another state? And until | |
| that time comes, what is sufficient? Why, what else than to venerate | |
| the gods and bless them, and to do good to men, and to practise tolerance | |
| and self-restraint; but as to everything which is beyond the limits | |
| of the poor flesh and breath, to remember that this is neither thine | |
| nor in thy power. | |
| Thou canst pass thy life in an equable flow of happiness, if thou | |
| canst go by the right way, and think and act in the right way. These | |
| two things are common both to the soul of God and to the soul of man, | |
| and to the soul of every rational being, not to be hindered by another; | |
| and to hold good to consist in the disposition to justice and the | |
| practice of it, and in this to let thy desire find its termination. | |
| If this is neither my own badness, nor an effect of my own badness, | |
| and the common weal is not injured, why am I troubled about it? And | |
| what is the harm to the common weal? | |
| Do not be carried along inconsiderately by the appearance of things, | |
| but give help to all according to thy ability and their fitness; and | |
| if they should have sustained loss in matters which are indifferent, | |
| do not imagine this to be a damage. For it is a bad habit. But as | |
| the old man, when he went away, asked back his foster-child's top, | |
| remembering that it was a top, so do thou in this case also. | |
| When thou art calling out on the Rostra, hast thou forgotten, man, | |
| what these things are?- Yes; but they are objects of great concern | |
| to these people- wilt thou too then be made a fool for these things?- | |
| I was once a fortunate man, but I lost it, I know not how.- But fortunate | |
| means that a man has assigned to himself a good fortune: and a good | |
| fortune is good disposition of the soul, good emotions, good actions. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK SIX | |
| The substance of the universe is obedient and compliant; and the | |
| reason which governs it has in itself no cause for doing evil, for | |
| it has no malice, nor does it do evil to anything, nor is anything | |
| harmed by it. But all things are made and perfected according to this | |
| reason. | |
| Let it make no difference to thee whether thou art cold or warm, if | |
| thou art doing thy duty; and whether thou art drowsy or satisfied | |
| with sleep; and whether ill-spoken of or praised; and whether dying | |
| or doing something else. For it is one of the acts of life, this act | |
| by which we die: it is sufficient then in this act also to do well | |
| what we have in hand. | |
| Look within. Let neither the peculiar quality of anything nor its | |
| value escape thee. | |
| All existing things soon change, and they will either be reduced to | |
| vapour, if indeed all substance is one, or they will be dispersed. | |
| The reason which governs knows what its own disposition is, and what | |
| it does, and on what material it works. | |
| The best way of avenging thyself is not to become like the wrong doer. | |
| Take pleasure in one thing and rest in it, in passing from one social | |
| act to another social act, thinking of God. | |
| The ruling principle is that which rouses and turns itself, and while | |
| it makes itself such as it is and such as it wills to be, it also | |
| makes everything which happens appear to itself to be such as it wills. | |
| In conformity to the nature of the universe every single thing is | |
| accomplished, for certainly it is not in conformity to any other nature | |
| that each thing is accomplished, either a nature which externally | |
| comprehends this, or a nature which is comprehended within this nature, | |
| or a nature external and independent of this. | |
| The universe is either a confusion, and a mutual involution of things, | |
| and a dispersion; or it is unity and order and providence. If then | |
| it is the former, why do I desire to tarry in a fortuitous combination | |
| of things and such a disorder? And why do I care about anything else | |
| than how I shall at last become earth? And why am I disturbed, for | |
| the dispersion of my elements will happen whatever I do. But if the | |
| other supposition is true, I venerate, and I am firm, and I trust | |
| in him who governs. | |
| When thou hast been compelled by circumstances to be disturbed in | |
| a manner, quickly return to thyself and do not continue out of tune | |
| longer than the compulsion lasts; for thou wilt have more mastery | |
| over the harmony by continually recurring to it. | |
| If thou hadst a step-mother and a mother at the same time, thou wouldst | |
| be dutiful to thy step-mother, but still thou wouldst constantly return | |
| to thy mother. Let the court and philosophy now be to thee step-mother | |
| and mother: return to philosophy frequently and repose in her, through | |
| whom what thou meetest with in the court appears to thee tolerable, | |
| and thou appearest tolerable in the court. | |
| When we have meat before us and such eatables we receive the impression, | |
| that this is the dead body of a fish, and this is the dead body of | |
| a bird or of a pig; and again, that this Falernian is only a little | |
| grape juice, and this purple robe some sheep's wool dyed with the | |
| blood of a shell-fish: such then are these impressions, and they reach | |
| the things themselves and penetrate them, and so we see what kind | |
| of things they are. Just in the same way ought we to act all through | |
| life, and where there are things which appear most worthy of our approbation, | |
| we ought to lay them bare and look at their worthlessness and strip | |
| them of all the words by which they are exalted. For outward show | |
| is a wonderful perverter of the reason, and when thou art most sure | |
| that thou art employed about things worth thy pains, it is then that | |
| it cheats thee most. Consider then what Crates says of Xenocrates | |
| himself. | |
| Most of the things which the multitude admire are referred to objects | |
| of the most general kind, those which are held together by cohesion | |
| or natural organization, such as stones, wood, fig-trees, vines, olives. | |
| But those which are admired by men who are a little more reasonable | |
| are referred to the things which are held together by a living principle, | |
| as flocks, herds. Those which are admired by men who are still more | |
| instructed are the things which are held together by a rational soul, | |
| not however a universal soul, but rational so far as it is a soul | |
| skilled in some art, or expert in some other way, or simply rational | |
| so far as it possesses a number of slaves. But he who values rational | |
| soul, a soul universal and fitted for political life, regards nothing | |
| else except this; and above all things he keeps his soul in a condition | |
| and in an activity conformable to reason and social life, and he co-operates | |
| to this end with those who are of the same kind as himself. | |
| Some things are hurrying into existence, and others are hurrying out | |
| of it; and of that which is coming into existence part is already | |
| extinguished. Motions and changes are continually renewing the world, | |
| just as the uninterrupted course of time is always renewing the infinite | |
| duration of ages. In this flowing stream then, on which there is no | |
| abiding, what is there of the things which hurry by on which a man | |
| would set a high price? It would be just as if a man should fall in | |
| love with one of the sparrows which fly by, but it has already passed | |
| out of sight. Something of this kind is the very life of every man, | |
| like the exhalation of the blood and the respiration of the air. For | |
| such as it is to have once drawn in the air and to have given it back, | |
| which we do every moment, just the same is it with the whole respiratory | |
| power, which thou didst receive at thy birth yesterday and the day | |
| before, to give it back to the element from which thou didst first | |
| draw it. | |
| Neither is transpiration, as in plants, a thing to be valued, nor | |
| respiration, as in domesticated animals and wild beasts, nor the receiving | |
| of impressions by the appearances of things, nor being moved by desires | |
| as puppets by strings, nor assembling in herds, nor being nourished | |
| by food; for this is just like the act of separating and parting with | |
| the useless part of our food. What then is worth being valued? To | |
| be received with clapping of hands? No. Neither must we value the | |
| clapping of tongues, for the praise which comes from the many is a | |
| clapping of tongues. Suppose then that thou hast given up this worthless | |
| thing called fame, what remains that is worth valuing? This in my | |
| opinion, to move thyself and to restrain thyself in conformity to | |
| thy proper constitution, to which end both all employments and arts | |
| lead. For every art aims at this, that the thing which has been made | |
| should be adapted to the work for which it has been made; and both | |
| the vine-planter who looks after the vine, and the horse-breaker, | |
| and he who trains the dog, seek this end. But the education and the | |
| teaching of youth aim at something. In this then is the value of the | |
| education and the teaching. And if this is well, thou wilt not seek | |
| anything else. Wilt thou not cease to value many other things too? | |
| Then thou wilt be neither free, nor sufficient for thy own happiness, | |
| nor without passion. For of necessity thou must be envious, jealous, | |
| and suspicious of those who can take away those things, and plot against | |
| those who have that which is valued by thee. Of necessity a man must | |
| be altogether in a state of perturbation who wants any of these things; | |
| and besides, he must often find fault with the gods. But to reverence | |
| and honour thy own mind will make thee content with thyself, and in | |
| harmony with society, and in agreement with the gods, that is, praising | |
| all that they give and have ordered. | |
| Above, below, all around are the movements of the elements. But the | |
| motion of virtue is in none of these: it is something more divine, | |
| and advancing by a way hardly observed it goes happily on its road. | |
| How strangely men act. They will not praise those who are living at | |
| the same time and living with themselves; but to be themselves praised | |
| by posterity, by those whom they have never seen or ever will see, | |
| this they set much value on. But this is very much the same as if | |
| thou shouldst be grieved because those who have lived before thee | |
| did not praise thee. | |
| If a thing is difficult to be accomplished by thyself, do not think | |
| that it is impossible for man: but if anything is possible for man | |
| and conformable to his nature, think that this can be attained by | |
| thyself too. | |
| In the gymnastic exercises suppose that a man has torn thee with his | |
| nails, and by dashing against thy head has inflicted a wound. Well, | |
| we neither show any signs of vexation, nor are we offended, nor do | |
| we suspect him afterwards as a treacherous fellow; and yet we are | |
| on our guard against him, not however as an enemy, nor yet with suspicion, | |
| but we quietly get out of his way. Something like this let thy behaviour | |
| be in all the other parts of life; let us overlook many things in | |
| those who are like antagonists in the gymnasium. For it is in our | |
| power, as I said, to get out of the way, and to have no suspicion | |
| nor hatred. | |
| If any man is able to convince me and show me that I do not think | |
| or act right, I will gladly change; for I seek the truth by which | |
| no man was ever injured. But he is injured who abides in his error | |
| and ignorance. | |
| I do my duty: other things trouble me not; for they are either things | |
| without life, or things without reason, or things that have rambled | |
| and know not the way. | |
| As to the animals which have no reason and generally all things and | |
| objects, do thou, since thou hast reason and they have none, make | |
| use of them with a generous and liberal spirit. But towards human | |
| beings, as they have reason, behave in a social spirit. And on all | |
| occasions call on the gods, and do not perplex thyself about the length | |
| of time in which thou shalt do this; for even three hours so spent | |
| are sufficient. | |
| Alexander the Macedonian and his groom by death were brought to the | |
| same state; for either they were received among the same seminal principles | |
| of the universe, or they were alike dispersed among the atoms. | |
| Consider how many things in the same indivisible time take place in | |
| each of us, things which concern the body and things which concern | |
| the soul: and so thou wilt not wonder if many more things, or rather | |
| all things which come into existence in that which is the one and | |
| all, which we call Cosmos, exist in it at the same time. | |
| If any man should propose to thee the question, how the name Antoninus | |
| is written, wouldst thou with a straining of the voice utter each | |
| letter? What then if they grow angry, wilt thou be angry too? Wilt | |
| thou not go on with composure and number every letter? just so then | |
| in this life also remember that every duty is made up of certain parts. | |
| These it is thy duty to observe and without being disturbed or showing | |
| anger towards those who are angry with thee to go on thy way and finish | |
| that which is set before thee. | |
| How cruel it is not to allow men to strive after the things which | |
| appear to them to be suitable to their nature and profitable! And | |
| yet in a manner thou dost not allow them to do this, when thou art | |
| vexed because they do wrong. For they are certainly moved towards | |
| things because they suppose them to be suitable to their nature and | |
| profitable to them.- But it is not so.- Teach them then, and show | |
| them without being angry. | |
| Death is a cessation of the impressions through the senses, and of | |
| the pulling of the strings which move the appetites, and of the discursive | |
| movements of the thoughts, and of the service to the flesh. | |
| It is a shame for the soul to be first to give way in this life, when | |
| thy body does not give way. | |
| Take care that thou art not made into a Caesar, that thou art not | |
| dyed with this dye; for such things happen. Keep thyself then simple, | |
| good, pure, serious, free from affectation, a friend of justice, a | |
| worshipper of the gods, kind, affectionate, strenuous in all proper | |
| acts. Strive to continue to be such as philosophy wished to make thee. | |
| Reverence the gods, and help men. Short is life. There is only one | |
| fruit of this terrene life, a pious disposition and social acts. Do | |
| everything as a disciple of Antoninus. Remember his constancy in every | |
| act which was conformable to reason, and his evenness in all things, | |
| and his piety, and the serenity of his countenance, and his sweetness, | |
| and his disregard of empty fame, and his efforts to understand things; | |
| and how he would never let anything pass without having first most | |
| carefully examined it and clearly understood it; and how he bore with | |
| those who blamed him unjustly without blaming them in return; how | |
| he did nothing in a hurry; and how he listened not to calumnies, and | |
| how exact an examiner of manners and actions he was; and not given | |
| to reproach people, nor timid, nor suspicious, nor a sophist; and | |
| with how little he was satisfied, such as lodging, bed, dress, food, | |
| servants; and how laborious and patient; and how he was able on account | |
| of his sparing diet to hold out to the evening, not even requiring | |
| to relieve himself by any evacuations except at the usual hour; and | |
| his firmness and uniformity in his friendships; and how he tolerated | |
| freedom of speech in those who opposed his opinions; and the pleasure | |
| that he had when any man showed him anything better; and how religious | |
| he was without superstition. Imitate all this that thou mayest have | |
| as good a conscience, when thy last hour comes, as he had. | |
| Return to thy sober senses and call thyself back; and when thou hast | |
| roused thyself from sleep and hast perceived that they were only dreams | |
| which troubled thee, now in thy waking hours look at these (the things | |
| about thee) as thou didst look at those (the dreams). | |
| I consist of a little body and a soul. Now to this little body all | |
| things are indifferent, for it is not able to perceive differences. | |
| But to the understanding those things only are indifferent, which | |
| are not the works of its own activity. But whatever things are the | |
| works of its own activity, all these are in its power. And of these | |
| however only those which are done with reference to the present; for | |
| as to the future and the past activities of the mind, even these are | |
| for the present indifferent. | |
| Neither the labour which the hand does nor that of the foot is contrary | |
| to nature, so long as the foot does the foot's work and the hand the | |
| hand's. So then neither to a man as a man is his labour contrary to | |
| nature, so long as it does the things of a man. But if the labour | |
| is not contrary to his nature, neither is it an evil to him. | |
| How many pleasures have been enjoyed by robbers, patricides, tyrants. | |
| Dost thou not see how the handicraftsmen accommodate themselves up | |
| to a certain point to those who are not skilled in their craft- nevertheless | |
| they cling to the reason (the principles) of their art and do not | |
| endure to depart from it? Is it not strange if the architect and the | |
| physician shall have more respect to the reason (the principles) of | |
| their own arts than man to his own reason, which is common to him | |
| and the gods? | |
| Asia, Europe are corners of the universe: all the sea a drop in the | |
| universe; Athos a little clod of the universe: all the present time | |
| is a point in eternity. All things are little, changeable, perishable. | |
| All things come from thence, from that universal ruling power either | |
| directly proceeding or by way of sequence. And accordingly the lion's | |
| gaping jaws, and that which is poisonous, and every harmful thing, | |
| as a thorn, as mud, are after-products of the grand and beautiful. | |
| Do not then imagine that they are of another kind from that which | |
| thou dost venerate, but form a just opinion of the source of all. | |
| He who has seen present things has seen all, both everything which | |
| has taken place from all eternity and everything which will be for | |
| time without end; for all things are of one kin and of one form. | |
| Frequently consider the connexion of all things in the universe and | |
| their relation to one another. For in a manner all things are implicated | |
| with one another, and all in this way are friendly to one another; | |
| for one thing comes in order after another, and this is by virtue | |
| of the active movement and mutual conspiration and the unity of the | |
| substance. | |
| Adapt thyself to the things with which thy lot has been cast: and | |
| the men among whom thou hast received thy portion, love them, but | |
| do it truly, sincerely. | |
| Every instrument, tool, vessel, if it does that for which it has been | |
| made, is well, and yet he who made it is not there. But in the things | |
| which are held together by nature there is within and there abides | |
| in them the power which made them; wherefore the more is it fit to | |
| reverence this power, and to think, that, if thou dost live and act | |
| according to its will, everything in thee is in conformity to intelligence. | |
| And thus also in the universe the things which belong to it are in | |
| conformity to intelligence. | |
| Whatever of the things which are not within thy power thou shalt suppose | |
| to be good for thee or evil, it must of necessity be that, if such | |
| a bad thing befall thee or the loss of such a good thing, thou wilt | |
| blame the gods, and hate men too, those who are the cause of the misfortune | |
| or the loss, or those who are suspected of being likely to be the | |
| cause; and indeed we do much injustice, because we make a difference | |
| between these things. But if we judge only those things which are | |
| in our power to be good or bad, there remains no reason either for | |
| finding fault with God or standing in a hostile attitude to man. | |
| We are all working together to one end, some with knowledge and design, | |
| and others without knowing what they do; as men also when they are | |
| asleep, of whom it is Heraclitus, I think, who says that they are | |
| labourers and co-operators in the things which take place in the universe. | |
| But men co-operate after different fashions: and even those co-operate | |
| abundantly, who find fault with what happens and those who try to | |
| oppose it and to hinder it; for the universe had need even of such | |
| men as these. It remains then for thee to understand among what kind | |
| of workmen thou placest thyself; for he who rules all things will | |
| certainly make a right use of thee, and he will receive thee among | |
| some part of the co-operators and of those whose labours conduce to | |
| one end. But be not thou such a part as the mean and ridiculous verse | |
| in the play, which Chrysippus speaks of. | |
| Does the sun undertake to do the work of the rain, or Aesculapius | |
| the work of the Fruit-bearer (the earth)? And how is it with respect | |
| to each of the stars, are they not different and yet they work together | |
| to the same end? | |
| If the gods have determined about me and about the things which must | |
| happen to me, they have determined well, for it is not easy even to | |
| imagine a deity without forethought; and as to doing me harm, why | |
| should they have any desire towards that? For what advantage would | |
| result to them from this or to the whole, which is the special object | |
| of their providence? But if they have not determined about me individually, | |
| they have certainly determined about the whole at least, and the things | |
| which happen by way of sequence in this general arrangement I ought | |
| to accept with pleasure and to be content with them. But if they determine | |
| about nothing- which it is wicked to believe, or if we do believe | |
| it, let us neither sacrifice nor pray nor swear by them nor do anything | |
| else which we do as if the gods were present and lived with us- but | |
| if however the gods determine about none of the things which concern | |
| us, I am able to determine about myself, and I can inquire about that | |
| which is useful; and that is useful to every man which is conformable | |
| to his own constitution and nature. But my nature is rational and | |
| social; and my city and country, so far as I am Antoninus, is Rome, | |
| but so far as I am a man, it is the world. The things then which are | |
| useful to these cities are alone useful to me. Whatever happens to | |
| every man, this is for the interest of the universal: this might be | |
| sufficient. But further thou wilt observe this also as a general truth, | |
| if thou dost observe, that whatever is profitable to any man is profitable | |
| also to other men. But let the word profitable be taken here in the | |
| common sense as said of things of the middle kind, neither good nor | |
| bad. | |
| As it happens to thee in the amphitheatre and such places, that the | |
| continual sight of the same things and the uniformity make the spectacle | |
| wearisome, so it is in the whole of life; for all things above, below, | |
| are the same and from the same. How long then? | |
| Think continually that all kinds of men and of all kinds of pursuits | |
| and of all nations are dead, so that thy thoughts come down even to | |
| Philistion and Phoebus and Origanion. Now turn thy thoughts to the | |
| other kinds of men. To that place then we must remove, where there | |
| are so many great orators, and so many noble philosophers, Heraclitus, | |
| Pythagoras, Socrates; so many heroes of former days, and so many generals | |
| after them, and tyrants; besides these, Eudoxus, Hipparchus, Archimedes, | |
| and other men of acute natural talents, great minds, lovers of labour, | |
| versatile, confident, mockers even of the perishable and ephemeral | |
| life of man, as Menippus and such as are like him. As to all these | |
| consider that they have long been in the dust. What harm then is this | |
| to them; and what to those whose names are altogether unknown? One | |
| thing here is worth a great deal, to pass thy life in truth and justice, | |
| with a benevolent disposition even to liars and unjust men. | |
| When thou wishest to delight thyself, think of the virtues of those | |
| who live with thee; for instance, the activity of one, and the modesty | |
| of another, and the liberality of a third, and some other good quality | |
| of a fourth. For nothing delights so much as the examples of the virtues, | |
| when they are exhibited in the morals of those who live with us and | |
| present themselves in abundance, as far as is possible. Wherefore | |
| we must keep them before us. | |
| Thou art not dissatisfied, I suppose, because thou weighest only so | |
| many litrae and not three hundred. Be not dissatisfied then that thou | |
| must live only so many years and not more; for as thou art satisfied | |
| with the amount of substance which has been assigned to thee, so be | |
| content with the time. | |
| Let us try to persuade them (men). But act even against their will, | |
| when the principles of justice lead that way. If however any man by | |
| using force stands in thy way, betake thyself to contentment and tranquility, | |
| and at the same time employ the hindrance towards the exercise of | |
| some other virtue; and remember that thy attempt was with a reservation, | |
| that thou didst not desire to do impossibilities. What then didst | |
| thou desire?- Some such effort as this.- But thou attainest thy object, | |
| if the things to which thou wast moved are accomplished. | |
| He who loves fame considers another man's activity to be his own good; | |
| and he who loves pleasure, his own sensations; but he who has understanding, | |
| considers his own acts to be his own good. | |
| It is in our power to have no opinion about a thing, and not to be | |
| disturbed in our soul; for things themselves have no natural power | |
| to form our judgements. | |
| Accustom thyself to attend carefully to what is said by another, and | |
| as much as it is possible, be in the speaker's mind. | |
| That which is not good for the swarm, neither is it good for the bee. | |
| If sailors abused the helmsman or the sick the doctor, would they | |
| listen to anybody else; or how could the helmsman secure the safety | |
| of those in the ship or the doctor the health of those whom he attends? | |
| How many together with whom I came into the world are already gone | |
| out of it. | |
| To the jaundiced honey tastes bitter, and to those bitten by mad dogs | |
| water causes fear; and to little children the ball is a fine thing. | |
| Why then am I angry? Dost thou think that a false opinion has less | |
| power than the bile in the jaundiced or the poison in him who is bitten | |
| by a mad dog? | |
| No man will hinder thee from living according to the reason of thy | |
| own nature: nothing will happen to thee contrary to the reason of | |
| the universal nature. | |
| What kind of people are those whom men wish to please, and for what | |
| objects, and by what kind of acts? How soon will time cover all things, | |
| and how many it has covered already. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK SEVEN | |
| What is badness? It is that which thou hast often seen. And on the | |
| occasion of everything which happens keep this in mind, that it is | |
| that which thou hast often seen. Everywhere up and down thou wilt | |
| find the same things, with which the old histories are filled, those | |
| of the middle ages and those of our own day; with which cities and | |
| houses are filled now. There is nothing new: all things are both familiar | |
| and short-lived. | |
| How can our principles become dead, unless the impressions (thoughts) | |
| which correspond to them are extinguished? But it is in thy power | |
| continuously to fan these thoughts into a flame. I can have that opinion | |
| about anything, which I ought to have. If I can, why am I disturbed? | |
| The things which are external to my mind have no relation at all to | |
| my mind.- Let this be the state of thy affects, and thou standest | |
| erect. To recover thy life is in thy power. Look at things again as | |
| thou didst use to look at them; for in this consists the recovery | |
| of thy life. | |
| The idle business of show, plays on the stage, flocks of sheep, herds, | |
| exercises with spears, a bone cast to little dogs, a bit of bread | |
| into fish-ponds, labourings of ants and burden-carrying, runnings | |
| about of frightened little mice, puppets pulled by strings- all alike. | |
| It is thy duty then in the midst of such things to show good humour | |
| and not a proud air; to understand however that every man is worth | |
| just so much as the things are worth about which he busies himself. | |
| In discourse thou must attend to what is said, and in every movement | |
| thou must observe what is doing. And in the one thou shouldst see | |
| immediately to what end it refers, but in the other watch carefully | |
| what is the thing signified. | |
| Is my understanding sufficient for this or not? If it is sufficient, | |
| I use it for the work as an instrument given by the universal nature. | |
| But if it is not sufficient, then either I retire from the work and | |
| give way to him who is able to do it better, unless there be some | |
| reason why I ought not to do so; or I do it as well as I can, taking | |
| to help me the man who with the aid of my ruling principle can do | |
| what is now fit and useful for the general good. For whatsoever either | |
| by myself or with another I can do, ought to be directed to this only, | |
| to that which is useful and well suited to society. | |
| How many after being celebrated by fame have been given up to oblivion; | |
| and how many who have celebrated the fame of others have long been | |
| dead. | |
| Be not ashamed to be helped; for it is thy business to do thy duty | |
| like a soldier in the assault on a town. How then, if being lame thou | |
| canst not mount up on the battlements alone, but with the help of | |
| another it is possible? | |
| Let not future things disturb thee, for thou wilt come to them, if | |
| it shall be necessary, having with thee the same reason which now | |
| thou usest for present things. | |
| All things are implicated with one another, and the bond is holy; | |
| and there is hardly anything unconnected with any other thing. For | |
| things have been co-ordinated, and they combine to form the same universe | |
| (order). For there is one universe made up of all things, and one | |
| God who pervades all things, and one substance, and one law, one common | |
| reason in all intelligent animals, and one truth; if indeed there | |
| is also one perfection for all animals which are of the same stock | |
| and participate in the same reason. | |
| Everything material soon disappears in the substance of the whole; | |
| and everything formal (causal) is very soon taken back into the universal | |
| reason; and the memory of everything is very soon overwhelmed in time. | |
| To the rational animal the same act is according to nature and according | |
| to reason. | |
| Be thou erect, or be made erect. | |
| Just as it is with the members in those bodies which are united in | |
| one, so it is with rational beings which exist separate, for they | |
| have been constituted for one co-operation. And the perception of | |
| this will be more apparent to thee, if thou often sayest to thyself | |
| that I am a member (melos) of the system of rational beings. But if | |
| (using the letter r) thou sayest that thou art a part (meros) thou | |
| dost not yet love men from thy heart; beneficence does not yet delight | |
| thee for its own sake; thou still doest it barely as a thing of propriety, | |
| and not yet as doing good to thyself. | |
| Let there fall externally what will on the parts which can feel the | |
| effects of this fall. For those parts which have felt will complain, | |
| if they choose. But I, unless I think that what has happened is an | |
| evil, am not injured. And it is in my power not to think so. | |
| Whatever any one does or says, I must be good, just as if the gold, | |
| or the emerald, or the purple were always saying this, Whatever any | |
| one does or says, I must be emerald and keep my colour. | |
| The ruling faculty does not disturb itself; I mean, does not frighten | |
| itself or cause itself pain. But if any one else can frighten or pain | |
| it, let him do so. For the faculty itself will not by its own opinion | |
| turn itself into such ways. Let the body itself take care, if it can, | |
| that is suffer nothing, and let it speak, if it suffers. But the soul | |
| itself, that which is subject to fear, to pain, which has completely | |
| the power of forming an opinion about these things, will suffer nothing, | |
| for it will never deviate into such a judgement. The leading principle | |
| in itself wants nothing, unless it makes a want for itself; and therefore | |
| it is both free from perturbation and unimpeded, if it does not disturb | |
| and impede itself. | |
| Eudaemonia (happiness) is a good daemon, or a good thing. What then | |
| art thou doing here, O imagination? Go away, I entreat thee by the | |
| gods, as thou didst come, for I want thee not. But thou art come according | |
| to thy old fashion. I am not angry with thee: only go away. | |
| Is any man afraid of change? Why what can take place without change? | |
| What then is more pleasing or more suitable to the universal nature? | |
| And canst thou take a bath unless the wood undergoes a change? And | |
| canst thou be nourished, unless the food undergoes a change? And can | |
| anything else that is useful be accomplished without change? Dost | |
| thou not see then that for thyself also to change is just the same, | |
| and equally necessary for the universal nature? | |
| Through the universal substance as through a furious torrent all bodies | |
| are carried, being by their nature united with and cooperating with | |
| the whole, as the parts of our body with one another. How many a Chrysippus, | |
| how many a Socrates, how many an Epictetus has time already swallowed | |
| up? And let the same thought occur to thee with reference to every | |
| man and thing. | |
| One thing only troubles me, lest I should do something which the constitution | |
| of man does not allow, or in the way which it does not allow, or what | |
| it does not allow now. | |
| Near is thy forgetfulness of all things; and near the forgetfulness | |
| of thee by all. | |
| It is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong. And this happens, | |
| if when they do wrong it occurs to thee that they are kinsmen, and | |
| that they do wrong through ignorance and unintentionally, and that | |
| soon both of you will die; and above all, that the wrong-doer has | |
| done thee no harm, for he has not made thy ruling faculty worse than | |
| it was before. | |
| The universal nature out of the universal substance, as if it were | |
| wax, now moulds a horse, and when it has broken this up, it uses the | |
| material for a tree, then for a man, then for something else; and | |
| each of these things subsists for a very short time. But it is no | |
| hardship for the vessel to be broken up, just as there was none in | |
| its being fastened together. | |
| A scowling look is altogether unnatural; when it is often assumed, | |
| the result is that all comeliness dies away, and at last is so completely | |
| extinguished that it cannot be again lighted up at all. Try to conclude | |
| from this very fact that it is contrary to reason. For if even the | |
| perception of doing wrong shall depart, what reason is there for living | |
| any longer? | |
| Nature which governs the whole will soon change all things which thou | |
| seest, and out of their substance will make other things, and again | |
| other things from the substance of them, in order that the world may | |
| be ever new. | |
| When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately consider with what | |
| opinion about good or evil he has done wrong. For when thou hast seen | |
| this, thou wilt pity him, and wilt neither wonder nor be angry. For | |
| either thou thyself thinkest the same thing to be good that he does | |
| or another thing of the same kind. It is thy duty then to pardon him. | |
| But if thou dost not think such things to be good or evil, thou wilt | |
| more readily be well disposed to him who is in error. | |
| Think not so much of what thou hast not as of what thou hast: but | |
| of the things which thou hast select the best, and then reflect how | |
| eagerly they would have been sought, if thou hadst them not. At the | |
| same time however take care that thou dost not through being so pleased | |
| with them accustom thyself to overvalue them, so as to be disturbed | |
| if ever thou shouldst not have them. | |
| Retire into thyself. The rational principle which rules has this nature, | |
| that it is content with itself when it does what is just, and so secures | |
| tranquility. | |
| Wipe out the imagination. Stop the pulling of the strings. Confine | |
| thyself to the present. Understand well what happens either to thee | |
| or to another. Divide and distribute every object into the causal | |
| (formal) and the material. Think of thy last hour. Let the wrong which | |
| is done by a man stay there where the wrong was done. | |
| Direct thy attention to what is said. Let thy understanding enter | |
| into the things that are doing and the things which do them. | |
| Adorn thyself with simplicity and modesty and with indifference towards | |
| the things which lie between virtue and vice. Love mankind. Follow | |
| God. The poet says that Law rules all.- And it is enough to remember | |
| that Law rules all. | |
| About death: Whether it is a dispersion, or a resolution into atoms, | |
| or annihilation, it is either extinction or change. | |
| About pain: The pain which is intolerable carries us off; but that | |
| which lasts a long time is tolerable; and the mind maintains its own | |
| tranquility by retiring into itself, and the ruling faculty is not | |
| made worse. But the parts which are harmed by pain, let them, if they | |
| can, give their opinion about it. | |
| About fame: Look at the minds of those who seek fame, observe what | |
| they are, and what kind of things they avoid, and what kind of things | |
| they pursue. And consider that as the heaps of sand piled on one another | |
| hide the former sands, so in life the events which go before are soon | |
| covered by those which come after. | |
| From Plato: The man who has an elevated mind and takes a view of all | |
| time and of all substance, dost thou suppose it possible for him to | |
| think that human life is anything great? it is not possible, he said.- | |
| Such a man then will think that death also is no evil.- Certainly | |
| not. | |
| From Antisthenes: It is royal to do good and to be abused. | |
| It is a base thing for the countenance to be obedient and to regulate | |
| and compose itself as the mind commands, and for the mind not to be | |
| regulated and composed by itself. | |
| It is not right to vex ourselves at things, | |
| For they care nought about it. | |
| To the immortal gods and us give joy. | |
| Life must be reaped like the ripe ears of corn: | |
| One man is born; another dies. | |
| If gods care not for me and for my children, | |
| There is a reason for it. | |
| For the good is with me, and the just. | |
| No joining others in their wailing, no violent emotion. | |
| From Plato: But I would make this man a sufficient answer, which is | |
| this: Thou sayest not well, if thou thinkest that a man who is good | |
| for anything at all ought to compute the hazard of life or death, | |
| and should not rather look to this only in all that he does, whether | |
| he is doing what is just or unjust, and the works of a good or a bad | |
| man. | |
| For thus it is, men of Athens, in truth: wherever a man has placed | |
| himself thinking it the best place for him, or has been placed by | |
| a commander, there in my opinion he ought to stay and to abide the | |
| hazard, taking nothing into the reckoning, either death or anything | |
| else, before the baseness of deserting his post. | |
| But, my good friend, reflect whether that which is noble and good | |
| is not something different from saving and being saved; for as to | |
| a man living such or such a time, at least one who is really a man, | |
| consider if this is not a thing to be dismissed from the thoughts: | |
| and there must be no love of life: but as to these matters a man must | |
| intrust them to the deity and believe what the women say, that no | |
| man can escape his destiny, the next inquiry being how he may best | |
| live the time that he has to live. | |
| Look round at the courses of the stars, as if thou wert going along | |
| with them; and constantly consider the changes of the elements into | |
| one another; for such thoughts purge away the filth of the terrene | |
| life. | |
| This is a fine saying of Plato: That he who is discoursing about men | |
| should look also at earthly things as if he viewed them from some | |
| higher place; should look at them in their assemblies, armies, agricultural | |
| labours, marriages, treaties, births, deaths, noise of the courts | |
| of justice, desert places, various nations of barbarians, feasts, | |
| lamentations, markets, a mixture of all things and an orderly combination | |
| of contraries. | |
| Consider the past; such great changes of political supremacies. Thou | |
| mayest foresee also the things which will be. For they will certainly | |
| be of like form, and it is not possible that they should deviate from | |
| the order of the things which take place now: accordingly to have | |
| contemplated human life for forty years is the same as to have contemplated | |
| it for ten thousand years. For what more wilt thou see? | |
| That which has grown from the earth to the earth, | |
| But that which has sprung from heavenly seed, | |
| Back to the heavenly realms returns. This is either a dissolution | |
| of the mutual involution of the atoms, or a similar dispersion of | |
| the unsentient elements. | |
| With food and drinks and cunning magic arts | |
| Turning the channel's course to 'scape from death. | |
| The breeze which heaven has sent | |
| We must endure, and toil without complaining. | |
| Another may be more expert in casting his opponent; but he is not | |
| more social, nor more modest, nor better disciplined to meet all that | |
| happens, nor more considerate with respect to the faults of his neighbours. | |
| Where any work can be done conformably to the reason which is common | |
| to gods and men, there we have nothing to fear: for where we are able | |
| to get profit by means of the activity which is successful and proceeds | |
| according to our constitution, there no harm is to be suspected. | |
| Everywhere and at all times it is in thy power piously to acquiesce | |
| in thy present condition, and to behave justly to those who are about | |
| thee, and to exert thy skill upon thy present thoughts, that nothing | |
| shall steal into them without being well examined. | |
| Do not look around thee to discover other men's ruling principles, | |
| but look straight to this, to what nature leads thee, both the universal | |
| nature through the things which happen to thee, and thy own nature | |
| through the acts which must be done by thee. But every being ought | |
| to do that which is according to its constitution; and all other things | |
| have been constituted for the sake of rational beings, just as among | |
| irrational things the inferior for the sake of the superior, but the | |
| rational for the sake of one another. | |
| The prime principle then in man's constitution is the social. And | |
| the second is not to yield to the persuasions of the body, for it | |
| is the peculiar office of the rational and intelligent motion to circumscribe | |
| itself, and never to be overpowered either by the motion of the senses | |
| or of the appetites, for both are animal; but the intelligent motion | |
| claims superiority and does not permit itself to be overpowered by | |
| the others. And with good reason, for it is formed by nature to use | |
| all of them. The third thing in the rational constitution is freedom | |
| from error and from deception. Let then the ruling principle holding | |
| fast to these things go straight on, and it has what is its own. | |
| Consider thyself to be dead, and to have completed thy life up to | |
| the present time; and live according to nature the remainder which | |
| is allowed thee. | |
| Love that only which happens to thee and is spun with the thread of | |
| thy destiny. For what is more suitable? | |
| In everything which happens keep before thy eyes those to whom the | |
| same things happened, and how they were vexed, and treated them as | |
| strange things, and found fault with them: and now where are they? | |
| Nowhere. Why then dost thou too choose to act in the same way? And | |
| why dost thou not leave these agitations which are foreign to nature, | |
| to those who cause them and those who are moved by them? And why art | |
| thou not altogether intent upon the right way of making use of the | |
| things which happen to thee? For then thou wilt use them well, and | |
| they will be a material for thee to work on. Only attend to thyself, | |
| and resolve to be a good man in every act which thou doest: and remember... | |
| Look within. Within is the fountain of good, and it will ever bubble | |
| up, if thou wilt ever dig. | |
| The body ought to be compact, and to show no irregularity either in | |
| motion or attitude. For what the mind shows in the face by maintaining | |
| in it the expression of intelligence and propriety, that ought to | |
| be required also in the whole body. But all of these things should | |
| be observed without affectation. | |
| The art of life is more like the wrestler's art than the dancer's, | |
| in respect of this, that it should stand ready and firm to meet onsets | |
| which are sudden and unexpected. | |
| Constantly observe who those are whose approbation thou wishest to | |
| have, and what ruling principles they possess. For then thou wilt | |
| neither blame those who offend involuntarily, nor wilt thou want their | |
| approbation, if thou lookest to the sources of their opinions and | |
| appetites. | |
| Every soul, the philosopher says, is involuntarily deprived of truth; | |
| consequently in the same way it is deprived of justice and temperance | |
| and benevolence and everything of the kind. It is most necessary to | |
| bear this constantly in mind, for thus thou wilt be more gentle towards | |
| all. | |
| In every pain let this thought be present, that there is no dishonour | |
| in it, nor does it make the governing intelligence worse, for it does | |
| not damage the intelligence either so far as the intelligence is rational | |
| or so far as it is social. Indeed in the case of most pains let this | |
| remark of Epicurus aid thee, that pain is neither intolerable nor | |
| everlasting, if thou bearest in mind that it has its limits, and if | |
| thou addest nothing to it in imagination: and remember this too, that | |
| we do not perceive that many things which are disagreeable to us are | |
| the same as pain, such as excessive drowsiness, and the being scorched | |
| by heat, and the having no appetite. When then thou art discontented | |
| about any of these things, say to thyself, that thou art yielding | |
| to pain. | |
| Take care not to feel towards the inhuman, as they feel towards men. | |
| How do we know if Telauges was not superior in character to Socrates? | |
| For it is not enough that Socrates died a more noble death, and disputed | |
| more skilfully with the sophists, and passed the night in the cold | |
| with more endurance, and that when he was bid to arrest Leon of Salamis, | |
| he considered it more noble to refuse, and that he walked in a swaggering | |
| way in the streets- though as to this fact one may have great doubts | |
| if it was true. But we ought to inquire, what kind of a soul it was | |
| that Socrates possessed, and if he was able to be content with being | |
| just towards men and pious towards the gods, neither idly vexed on | |
| account of men's villainy, nor yet making himself a slave to any man's | |
| ignorance, nor receiving as strange anything that fell to his share | |
| out of the universal, nor enduring it as intolerable, nor allowing | |
| his understanding to sympathize with the affects of the miserable | |
| flesh. | |
| Nature has not so mingled the intelligence with the composition of | |
| the body, as not to have allowed thee the power of circumscribing | |
| thyself and of bringing under subjection to thyself all that is thy | |
| own; for it is very possible to be a divine man and to be recognised | |
| as such by no one. Always bear this in mind; and another thing too, | |
| that very little indeed is necessary for living a happy life. And | |
| because thou hast despaired of becoming a dialectician and skilled | |
| in the knowledge of nature, do not for this reason renounce the hope | |
| of being both free and modest and social and obedient to God. | |
| It is in thy power to live free from all compulsion in the greatest | |
| tranquility of mind, even if all the world cry out against thee as | |
| much as they choose, and even if wild beasts tear in pieces the members | |
| of this kneaded matter which has grown around thee. For what hinders | |
| the mind in the midst of all this from maintaining itself in tranquility | |
| and in a just judgement of all surrounding things and in a ready use | |
| of the objects which are presented to it, so that the judgement may | |
| say to the thing which falls under its observation: This thou art | |
| in substance (reality), though in men's opinion thou mayest appear | |
| to be of a different kind; and the use shall say to that which falls | |
| under the hand: Thou art the thing that I was seeking; for to me that | |
| which presents itself is always a material for virtue both rational | |
| and political, and in a word, for the exercise of art, which belongs | |
| to man or God. For everything which happens has a relationship either | |
| to God or man, and is neither new nor difficult to handle, but usual | |
| and apt matter to work on. | |
| The perfection of moral character consists in this, in passing every | |
| day as the last, and in being neither violently excited nor torpid | |
| nor playing the hypocrite. | |
| The gods who are immortal are not vexed because during so long a time | |
| they must tolerate continually men such as they are and so many of | |
| them bad; and besides this, they also take care of them in all ways. | |
| But thou, who art destined to end so soon, art thou wearied of enduring | |
| the bad, and this too when thou art one of them? | |
| It is a ridiculous thing for a man not to fly from his own badness, | |
| which is indeed possible, but to fly from other men's badness, which | |
| is impossible. | |
| Whatever the rational and political (social) faculty finds to be neither | |
| intelligent nor social, it properly judges to be inferior to itself. | |
| When thou hast done a good act and another has received it, why dost | |
| thou look for a third thing besides these, as fools do, either to | |
| have the reputation of having done a good act or to obtain a return? | |
| No man is tired of receiving what is useful. But it is useful to act | |
| according to nature. Do not then be tired of receiving what is useful | |
| by doing it to others. | |
| The nature of the An moved to make the universe. But now either everything | |
| that takes place comes by way of consequence or continuity; or even | |
| the chief things towards which the ruling power of the universe directs | |
| its own movement are governed by no rational principle. If this is | |
| remembered it will make thee more tranquil in many things. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK EIGHT | |
| This reflection also tends to the removal of the desire of empty | |
| fame, that it is no longer in thy power to have lived the whole of | |
| thy life, or at least thy life from thy youth upwards, like a philosopher; | |
| but both to many others and to thyself it is plain that thou art far | |
| from philosophy. Thou hast fallen into disorder then, so that it is | |
| no longer easy for thee to get the reputation of a philosopher; and | |
| thy plan of life also opposes it. If then thou hast truly seen where | |
| the matter lies, throw away the thought, How thou shalt seem to others, | |
| and be content if thou shalt live the rest of thy life in such wise | |
| as thy nature wills. Observe then what it wills, and let nothing else | |
| distract thee; for thou hast had experience of many wanderings without | |
| having found happiness anywhere, not in syllogisms, nor in wealth, | |
| nor in reputation, nor in enjoyment, nor anywhere. Where is it then? | |
| In doing what man's nature requires. How then shall a man do this? | |
| If he has principles from which come his affects and his acts. What | |
| principles? Those which relate to good and bad: the belief that there | |
| is nothing good for man, which does not make him just, temperate, | |
| manly, free; and that there is nothing bad, which does not do the | |
| contrary to what has been mentioned. | |
| On the occasion of every act ask thyself, How is this with respect | |
| to me? Shall I repent of it? A little time and I am dead, and all | |
| is gone. What more do I seek, if what I am now doing is work of an | |
| intelligent living being, and a social being, and one who is under | |
| the same law with God? | |
| Alexander and Gaius and Pompeius, what are they in comparison with | |
| Diogenes and Heraclitus and Socrates? For they were acquainted with | |
| things, and their causes (forms), and their matter, and the ruling | |
| principles of these men were the same. But as to the others, how many | |
| things had they to care for, and to how many things were they slaves? | |
| Consider that men will do the same things nevertheless, even though | |
| thou shouldst burst. | |
| This is the chief thing: Be not perturbed, for all things are according | |
| to the nature of the universal; and in a little time thou wilt be | |
| nobody and nowhere, like Hadrian and Augustus. In the next place having | |
| fixed thy eyes steadily on thy business look at it, and at the same | |
| time remembering that it is thy duty to be a good man, and what man's | |
| nature demands, do that without turning aside; and speak as it seems | |
| to thee most just, only let it be with a good disposition and with | |
| modesty and without hypocrisy. | |
| The nature of the universal has this work to do, to remove to that | |
| place the things which are in this, to change them, to take them away | |
| hence, and to carry them there. All things are change, yet we need | |
| not fear anything new. All things are familiar to us; but the distribution | |
| of them still remains the same. | |
| Every nature is contented with itself when it goes on its way well; | |
| and a rational nature goes on its way well, when in its thoughts it | |
| assents to nothing false or uncertain, and when it directs its movements | |
| to social acts only, and when it confines its desires and aversions | |
| to the things which are in its power, and when it is satisfied with | |
| everything that is assigned to it by the common nature. For of this | |
| common nature every particular nature is a part, as the nature of | |
| the leaf is a part of the nature of the plant; except that in the | |
| plant the nature of the leaf is part of a nature which has not perception | |
| or reason, and is subject to be impeded; but the nature of man is | |
| part of a nature which is not subject to impediments, and is intelligent | |
| and just, since it gives to everything in equal portions and according | |
| to its worth, times, substance, cause (form), activity, and incident. | |
| But examine, not to discover that any one thing compared with any | |
| other single thing is equal in all respects, but by taking all the | |
| parts together of one thing and comparing them with all the parts | |
| together of another. | |
| Thou hast not leisure or ability to read. But thou hast leisure or | |
| ability to check arrogance: thou hast leisure to be superior to pleasure | |
| and pain: thou hast leisure to be superior to love of fame, and not | |
| to be vexed at stupid and ungrateful people, nay even to care for | |
| them. | |
| Let no man any longer hear thee finding fault with the court life | |
| or with thy own. | |
| Repentance is a kind of self-reproof for having neglected something | |
| useful; but that which is good must be something useful, and the perfect | |
| good man should look after it. But no such man would ever repent of | |
| having refused any sensual pleasure. Pleasure then is neither good | |
| nor useful. | |
| This thing, what is it in itself, in its own constitution? What is | |
| its substance and material? And what its causal nature (or form)? | |
| And what is it doing in the world? And how long does it subsist? | |
| When thou risest from sleep with reluctance, remember that it is according | |
| to thy constitution and according to human nature to perform social | |
| acts, but sleeping is common also to irrational animals. But that | |
| which is according to each individual's nature is also more peculiarly | |
| its own, and more suitable to its nature, and indeed also more agreeable. | |
| Constantly and, if it be possible, on the occasion of every impression | |
| on the soul, apply to it the principles of Physic, of Ethic, and of | |
| Dialectic. | |
| Whatever man thou meetest with, immediately say to thyself: What opinions | |
| has this man about good and bad? For if with respect to pleasure and | |
| pain and the causes of each, and with respect to fame and ignominy, | |
| death and life, he has such and such opinions, it will seem nothing | |
| wonderful or strange to me, if he does such and such things; and I | |
| shall bear in mind that he is compelled to do so. | |
| Remember that as it is a shame to be surprised if the fig-tree produces | |
| figs, so it is to be surprised if the world produces such and such | |
| things of which it is productive; and for the physician and the helmsman | |
| it is a shame to be surprised, if a man has a fever, or if the wind | |
| is unfavourable. | |
| Remember that to change thy opinion and to follow him who corrects | |
| thy error is as consistent with freedom as it is to persist in thy | |
| error. For it is thy own, the activity which is exerted according | |
| to thy own movement and judgement, and indeed according to thy own | |
| understanding too. | |
| If a thing is in thy own power, why dost thou do it? But if it is | |
| in the power of another, whom dost thou blame? The atoms (chance) | |
| or the gods? Both are foolish. Thou must blame nobody. For if thou | |
| canst, correct that which is the cause; but if thou canst not do this, | |
| correct at least the thing itself; but if thou canst not do even this, | |
| of what use is it to thee to find fault? For nothing should be done | |
| without a purpose. | |
| That which has died falls not out of the universe. If it stays here, | |
| it also changes here, and is dissolved into its proper parts, which | |
| are elements of the universe and of thyself. And these too change, | |
| and they murmur not. | |
| Everything exists for some end, a horse, a vine. Why dost thou wonder? | |
| Even the sun will say, I am for some purpose, and the rest of the | |
| gods will say the same. For what purpose then art thou? to enjoy pleasure? | |
| See if common sense allows this. | |
| Nature has had regard in everything no less to the end than to the | |
| beginning and the continuance, just like the man who throws up a ball. | |
| What good is it then for the ball to be thrown up, or harm for it | |
| to come down, or even to have fallen? And what good is it to the bubble | |
| while it holds together, or what harm when it is burst? The same may | |
| be said of a light also. | |
| Turn it (the body) inside out, and see what kind of thing it is; and | |
| when it has grown old, what kind of thing it becomes, and when it | |
| is diseased. | |
| Short-lived are both the praiser and the praised, and the rememberer | |
| and the remembered: and all this in a nook of this part of the world; | |
| and not even here do all agree, no, not any one with himself: and | |
| the whole earth too is a point. | |
| Attend to the matter which is before thee, whether it is an opinion | |
| or an act or a word. | |
| Thou sufferest this justly: for thou choosest rather to become good | |
| to-morrow than to be good to-day. | |
| Am I doing anything? I do it with reference to the good of mankind. | |
| Does anything happen to me? I receive it and refer it to the gods, | |
| and the source of all things, from which all that happens is derived. | |
| Such as bathing appears to thee- oil, sweat, dirt, filthy water, all | |
| things disgusting- so is every part of life and everything. | |
| Lucilla saw Verus die, and then Lucilla died. Secunda saw Maximus | |
| die, and then Secunda died. Epitynchanus saw Diotimus die, and Epitynchanus | |
| died. Antoninus saw Faustina die, and then Antoninus died. Such is | |
| everything. Celer saw Hadrian die, and then Celer died. And those | |
| sharp-witted men, either seers or men inflated with pride, where are | |
| they? For instance the sharp-witted men, Charax and Demetrius the | |
| Platonist and Eudaemon, and any one else like them. All ephemeral, | |
| dead long ago. Some indeed have not been remembered even for a short | |
| time, and others have become the heroes of fables, and again others | |
| have disappeared even from fables. Remember this then, that this little | |
| compound, thyself, must either be dissolved, or thy poor breath must | |
| be extinguished, or be removed and placed elsewhere. | |
| It is satisfaction to a man to do the proper works of a man. Now it | |
| is a proper work of a man to be benevolent to his own kind, to despise | |
| the movements of the senses, to form a just judgement of plausible | |
| appearances, and to take a survey of the nature of the universe and | |
| of the things which happen in it. | |
| There are three relations between thee and other things: the one to | |
| the body which surrounds thee; the second to the divine cause from | |
| which all things come to all; and the third to those who live with | |
| thee. | |
| Pain is either an evil to the body- then let the body say what it | |
| thinks of it- or to the soul; but it is in the power of the soul to | |
| maintain its own serenity and tranquility, and not to think that pain | |
| is an evil. For every judgement and movement and desire and aversion | |
| is within, and no evil ascends so high. | |
| Wipe out thy imaginations by often saying to thyself: now it is in | |
| my power to let no badness be in this soul, nor desire nor any perturbation | |
| at all; but looking at all things I see what is their nature, and | |
| I use each according to its value.- Remember this power which thou | |
| hast from nature. | |
| Speak both in the senate and to every man, whoever he may be, appropriately, | |
| not with any affectation: use plain discourse. | |
| Augustus' court, wife, daughter, descendants, ancestors, sister, Agrippa, | |
| kinsmen, intimates, friends, Areius, Maecenas, physicians and sacrificing | |
| priests- the whole court is dead. Then turn to the rest, not considering | |
| the death of a single man, but of a whole race, as of the Pompeii; | |
| and that which is inscribed on the tombs- The last of his race. Then | |
| consider what trouble those before them have had that they might leave | |
| a successor; and then, that of necessity some one must be the last. | |
| Again here consider the death of a whole race. | |
| It is thy duty to order thy life well in every single act; and if | |
| every act does its duty, as far as is possible, be content; and no | |
| one is able to hinder thee so that each act shall not do its duty.- | |
| But something external will stand in the way.- Nothing will stand | |
| in the way of thy acting justly and soberly and considerately.- But | |
| perhaps some other active power will be hindered.- Well, but by acquiescing | |
| in the hindrance and by being content to transfer thy efforts to that | |
| which is allowed, another opportunity of action is immediately put | |
| before thee in place of that which was hindered, and one which will | |
| adapt itself to this ordering of which we are speaking. | |
| Receive wealth or prosperity without arrogance; and be ready to let | |
| it go. | |
| If thou didst ever see a hand cut off, or a foot, or a head, lying | |
| anywhere apart from the rest of the body, such does a man make himself, | |
| as far as he can, who is not content with what happens, and separates | |
| himself from others, or does anything unsocial. Suppose that thou | |
| hast detached thyself from the natural unity- for thou wast made by | |
| nature a part, but now thou hast cut thyself off- yet here there is | |
| this beautiful provision, that it is in thy power again to unite thyself. | |
| God has allowed this to no other part, after it has been separated | |
| and cut asunder, to come together again. But consider the kindness | |
| by which he has distinguished man, for he has put it in his power | |
| not to be separated at all from the universal; and when he has been | |
| separated, he has allowed him to return and to be united and to resume | |
| his place as a part. | |
| As the nature of the universal has given to every rational being all | |
| the other powers that it has, so we have received from it this power | |
| also. For as the universal nature converts and fixes in its predestined | |
| place everything which stands in the way and opposes it, and makes | |
| such things a part of itself, so also the rational animal is able | |
| to make every hindrance its own material, and to use it for such purposes | |
| as it may have designed. | |
| Do not disturb thyself by thinking of the whole of thy life. Let not | |
| thy thoughts at once embrace all the various troubles which thou mayest | |
| expect to befall thee: but on every occasion ask thyself, What is | |
| there in this which is intolerable and past bearing? For thou wilt | |
| be ashamed to confess. In the next place remember that neither the | |
| future nor the past pains thee, but only the present. But this is | |
| reduced to a very little, if thou only circumscribest it, and chidest | |
| thy mind, if it is unable to hold out against even this. | |
| Does Panthea or Pergamus now sit by the tomb of Verus? Does Chaurias | |
| or Diotimus sit by the tomb of Hadrian? That would be ridiculous. | |
| Well, suppose they did sit there, would the dead be conscious of it? | |
| And if the dead were conscious, would they be pleased? And if they | |
| were pleased, would that make them immortal? Was it not in the order | |
| of destiny that these persons too should first become old women and | |
| old men and then die? What then would those do after these were dead? | |
| All this is foul smell and blood in a bag. | |
| If thou canst see sharp, look and judge wisely, says the philosopher. | |
| In the constitution of the rational animal I see no virtue which is | |
| opposed to justice; but I see a virtue which is opposed to love of | |
| pleasure, and that is temperance. | |
| If thou takest away thy opinion about that which appears to give thee | |
| pain, thou thyself standest in perfect security.- Who is this self?- | |
| The reason.- But I am not reason.- Be it so. Let then the reason itself | |
| not trouble itself. But if any other part of thee suffers, let it | |
| have its own opinion about itself. | |
| Hindrance to the perceptions of sense is an evil to the animal nature. | |
| Hindrance to the movements (desires) is equally an evil to the animal | |
| nature. And something else also is equally an impediment and an evil | |
| to the constitution of plants. So then that which is a hindrance to | |
| the intelligence is an evil to the intelligent nature. Apply all these | |
| things then to thyself. Does pain or sensuous pleasure affect thee? | |
| The senses will look to that.- Has any obstacle opposed thee in thy | |
| efforts towards an object? if indeed thou wast making this effort | |
| absolutely (unconditionally, or without any reservation), certainly | |
| this obstacle is an evil to thee considered as a rational animal. | |
| But if thou takest into consideration the usual course of things, | |
| thou hast not yet been injured nor even impeded. The things however | |
| which are proper to the understanding no other man is used to impede, | |
| for neither fire, nor iron, nor tyrant, nor abuse, touches it in any | |
| way. When it has been made a sphere, it continues a sphere. | |
| It is not fit that I should give myself pain, for I have never intentionally | |
| given pain even to another. | |
| Different things delight different people. But it is my delight to | |
| keep the ruling faculty sound without turning away either from any | |
| man or from any of the things which happen to men, but looking at | |
| and receiving all with welcome eyes and using everything according | |
| to its value. | |
| See that thou secure this present time to thyself: for those who rather | |
| pursue posthumous fame do consider that the men of after time will | |
| be exactly such as these whom they cannot bear now; and both are mortal. | |
| And what is it in any way to thee if these men of after time utter | |
| this or that sound, or have this or that opinion about thee? | |
| Take me and cast me where thou wilt; for there I shall keep my divine | |
| part tranquil, that is, content, if it can feel and act conformably | |
| to its proper constitution. Is this change of place sufficient reason | |
| why my soul should be unhappy and worse than it was, depressed, expanded, | |
| shrinking, affrighted? And what wilt thou find which is sufficient | |
| reason for this? | |
| Nothing can happen to any man which is not a human accident, nor to | |
| an ox which is not according to the nature of an ox, nor to a vine | |
| which is not according to the nature of a vine, nor to a stone which | |
| is not proper to a stone. If then there happens to each thing both | |
| what is usual and natural, why shouldst thou complain? For the common | |
| nature brings nothing which may not be borne by thee. | |
| If thou art pained by any external thing, it is not this thing that | |
| disturbs thee, but thy own judgement about it. And it is in thy power | |
| to wipe out this judgement now. But if anything in thy own disposition | |
| gives thee pain, who hinders thee from correcting thy opinion? And | |
| even if thou art pained because thou art not doing some particular | |
| thing which seems to thee to be right, why dost thou not rather act | |
| than complain?- But some insuperable obstacle is in the way?- Do not | |
| be grieved then, for the cause of its not being done depends not on | |
| thee.- But it is not worth while to live if this cannot be done.- | |
| Take thy departure then from life contentedly, just as he dies who | |
| is in full activity, and well pleased too with the things which are | |
| obstacles. | |
| Remember that the ruling faculty is invincible, when self-collected | |
| it is satisfied with itself, if it does nothing which it does not | |
| choose to do, even if it resist from mere obstinacy. What then will | |
| it be when it forms a judgement about anything aided by reason and | |
| deliberately? Therefore the mind which is free from passions is a | |
| citadel, for man has nothing more secure to which he can fly for, | |
| refuge and for the future be inexpugnable. He then who has not seen | |
| this is an ignorant man; but he who has seen it and does not fly to | |
| this refuge is unhappy. | |
| Say nothing more to thyself than what the first appearances report. | |
| Suppose that it has been reported to thee that a certain person speaks | |
| ill of thee. This has been reported; but that thou hast been injured, | |
| that has not been reported. I see that my child is sick. I do see; | |
| but that he is in danger, I do not see. Thus then always abide by | |
| the first appearances, and add nothing thyself from within, and then | |
| nothing happens to thee. Or rather add something, like a man who knows | |
| everything that happens in the world. | |
| A cucumber is bitter.- Throw it away.- There are briars in the road.- | |
| Turn aside from them.- This is enough. Do not add, And why were such | |
| things made in the world? For thou wilt be ridiculed by a man who | |
| is acquainted with nature, as thou wouldst be ridiculed by a carpenter | |
| and shoemaker if thou didst find fault because thou seest in their | |
| workshop shavings and cuttings from the things which they make. And | |
| yet they have places into which they can throw these shavings and | |
| cuttings, and the universal nature has no external space; but the | |
| wondrous part of her art is that though she has circumscribed herself, | |
| everything within her which appears to decay and to grow old and to | |
| be useless she changes into herself, and again makes other new things | |
| from these very same, so that she requires neither substance from | |
| without nor wants a place into which she may cast that which decays. | |
| She is content then with her own space, and her own matter and her | |
| own art. | |
| Neither in thy actions be sluggish nor in thy conversation without | |
| method, nor wandering in thy thoughts, nor let there be in thy soul | |
| inward contention nor external effusion, nor in life be so busy as | |
| to have no leisure. | |
| Suppose that men kill thee, cut thee in pieces, curse thee. What then | |
| can these things do to prevent thy mind from remaining pure, wise, | |
| sober, just? For instance, if a man should stand by a limpid pure | |
| spring, and curse it, the spring never ceases sending up potable water; | |
| and if he should cast clay into it or filth, it will speedily disperse | |
| them and wash them out, and will not be at all polluted. How then | |
| shalt thou possess a perpetual fountain and not a mere well? By forming | |
| thyself hourly to freedom conjoined with contentment, simplicity and | |
| modesty. | |
| He who does not know what the world is, does not know where he is. | |
| And he who does not know for what purpose the world exists, does not | |
| know who he is, nor what the world is. But he who has failed in any | |
| one of these things could not even say for what purpose he exists | |
| himself. What then dost thou think of him who avoids or seeks the | |
| praise of those who applaud, of men who know not either where they | |
| are or who they are? | |
| Dost thou wish to be praised by a man who curses himself thrice every | |
| hour? Wouldst thou wish to please a man who does not please himself? | |
| Does a man please himself who repents of nearly everything that he | |
| does? | |
| No longer let thy breathing only act in concert with the air which | |
| surrounds thee, but let thy intelligence also now be in harmony with | |
| the intelligence which embraces all things. For the intelligent power | |
| is no less diffused in all parts and pervades all things for him who | |
| is willing to draw it to him than the aerial power for him who is | |
| able to respire it. | |
| Generally, wickedness does no harm at all to the universe; and particularly, | |
| the wickedness of one man does no harm to another. It is only harmful | |
| to him who has it in his power to be released from it, as soon as | |
| he shall choose. | |
| To my own free will the free will of my neighbour is just as indifferent | |
| as his poor breath and flesh. For though we are made especially for | |
| the sake of one another, still the ruling power of each of us has | |
| its own office, for otherwise my neighbour's wickedness would be my | |
| harm, which God has not willed in order that my unhappiness may not | |
| depend on another. | |
| The sun appears to be poured down, and in all directions indeed it | |
| is diffused, yet it is not effused. For this diffusion is extension: | |
| Accordingly its rays are called Extensions [aktines] because they | |
| are extended [apo tou ekteinesthai]. But one may judge what kind of | |
| a thing a ray is, if he looks at the sun's light passing through a | |
| narrow opening into a darkened room, for it is extended in a right | |
| line, and as it were is divided when it meets with any solid body | |
| which stands in the way and intercepts the air beyond; but there the | |
| light remains fixed and does not glide or fall off. Such then ought | |
| to be the out-pouring and diffusion of the understanding, and it should | |
| in no way be an effusion, but an extension, and it should make no | |
| violent or impetuous collision with the obstacles which are in its | |
| way; nor yet fall down, but be fixed and enlighten that which receives | |
| it. For a body will deprive itself of the illumination, if it does | |
| not admit it. | |
| He who fears death either fears the loss of sensation or a different | |
| kind of sensation. But if thou shalt have no sensation, neither wilt | |
| thou feel any harm; and if thou shalt acquire another kind of sensation, | |
| thou wilt be a different kind of living being and thou wilt not cease | |
| to live. | |
| Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them then or bear with | |
| them. | |
| In one way an arrow moves, in another way the mind. The mind indeed, | |
| both when it exercises caution and when it is employed about inquiry, | |
| moves straight onward not the less, and to its object. | |
| Enter into every man's ruling faculty; and also let every other man | |
| enter into thine. | |
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | |
| BOOK NINE | |
| He ho acts unjustly acts impiously. For since the universal nature | |
| has made rational animals for the sake of one another to help one | |
| another according to their deserts, but in no way to injure one another, | |
| he who transgresses her will, is clearly guilty of impiety towards | |
| the highest divinity. And he too who lies is guilty of impiety to | |
| the same divinity; for the universal nature is the nature of things | |
| that are; and things that are have a relation to all things that come | |
| into existence. And further, this universal nature is named truth, | |
| and is the prime cause of all things that are true. He then who lies | |
| intentionally is guilty of impiety inasmuch as he acts unjustly by | |
| deceiving; and he also who lies unintentionally, inasmuch as he is | |
| at variance with the universal nature, and inasmuch as he disturbs | |
| the order by fighting against the nature of the world; for he fights | |
| against it, who is moved of himself to that which is contrary to truth, | |
| for he had received powers from nature through the neglect of which | |
| he is not able now to distinguish falsehood from truth. And indeed | |
| he who pursues pleasure as good, and avoids pain as evil, is guilty | |
| of impiety. For of necessity such a man must often find fault with | |
| the universal nature, alleging that it assigns things to the bad and | |
| the good contrary to their deserts, because frequently the bad are | |
| in the enjoyment of pleasure and possess the things which procure | |
| pleasure, but the good have pain for their share and the things which | |
| cause pain. And further, he who is afraid of pain will sometimes also | |
| be afraid of some of the things which will happen in the world, and | |
| even this is impiety. And he who pursues pleasure will not abstain | |
| from injustice, and this is plainly impiety. Now with respect to the | |
| things towards which the universal nature is equally affected- for | |
| it would not have made both, unless it was equally affected towards | |
| both- towards these they who wish to follow nature should be of the | |
| same mind with it, and equally affected. With respect to pain, then, | |
| and pleasure, or death and life, or honour and dishonour, which the | |
| universal nature employs equally, whoever is not equally affected | |
| is manifestly acting impiously. And I say that the universal nature | |
| employs them equally, instead of saying that they happen alike to | |
| those who are produced in continuous series and to those who come | |
| after them by virtue of a certain original movement of Providence, | |
| according to which it moved from a certain beginning to this ordering | |
| of things, having conceived certain principles of the things which | |
| were to be, and having determined powers productive of beings and | |
| of changes and of such like successions. | |
| It would be a man's happiest lot to depart from mankind without having | |
| had any taste of lying and hypocrisy and luxury and pride. However | |
| to breathe out one's life when a man has had enough of these things | |
| is the next best voyage, as the saying is. Hast thou determined to | |
| abide with vice, and has not experience yet induced thee to fly from | |
| this pestilence? For the destruction of the understanding is a pestilence, | |
| much more indeed than any such corruption and change of this atmosphere | |
| which surrounds us. For this corruption is a pestilence of animals | |
| so far as they are animals; but the other is a pestilence of men so | |
| far as they are men. | |
| Do not despise death, but be well content with it, since this too | |
| is one of those things which nature wills. For such as it is to be | |
| young and to grow old, and to increase and to reach maturity, and | |
| to have teeth and beard and grey hairs, and to beget, and to be pregnant | |
| and to bring forth, and all the other natural operations which the | |
| seasons of thy life bring, such also is dissolution. This, then, is | |
| consistent with the character of a reflecting man, to be neither careless | |
| nor impatient nor contemptuous with respect to death, but to wait | |
| for it as one of the operations of nature. As thou now waitest for | |
| the time when the child shall come out of thy wife's womb, so be ready | |
| for the time when thy soul shall fall out of this envelope. But if | |
| thou requirest also a vulgar kind of comfort which shall reach thy | |
| heart, thou wilt be made best reconciled to death by observing the | |
| objects from which thou art going to be removed, and the morals of | |
| those with whom thy soul will no longer be mingled. For it is no way | |
| right to be offended with men, but it is thy duty to care for them | |
| and to bear with them gently; and yet to remember that thy departure | |
| will be not from men who have the same principles as thyself. For | |
| this is the only thing, if there be any, which could draw us the contrary | |
| way and attach us to life, to be permitted to live with those who | |
| have the same principles as ourselves. But now thou seest how great | |
| is the trouble arising from the discordance of those who live together, | |
| so that thou mayest say, Come quick, O death, lest perchance I, too, | |
| should forget myself. | |
| He who does wrong does wrong against himself. He who acts unjustly | |
| acts unjustly to himself, because he makes himself bad. | |
| He often acts unjustly who does not do a certain thing; not only he | |
| who does a certain thing. | |
| Thy present opinion founded on understanding, and thy present conduct | |
| directed to social good, and thy present disposition of contentment | |
| with everything which happens- that is enough. | |
| Wipe out imagination: check desire: extinguish appetite: keep the | |
| ruling faculty in its own power. | |
| Among the animals which have not reason one life is distributed; but | |
| among reasonable animals one intelligent soul is distributed: just | |
| as there is one earth of all things which are of an earthy nature, | |
| and we see by one light, and breathe one air, all of us that have | |
| the faculty of vision and all that have life. | |
| All things which participate in anything which is common to them all | |
| move towards that which is of the same kind with themselves. Everything | |
| which is earthy turns towards the earth, everything which is liquid | |
| flows together, and everything which is of an aerial kind does the | |
| same, so that they require something to keep them asunder, and the | |
| application of force. Fire indeed moves upwards on account of the | |
| elemental fire, but it is so ready to be kindled together with all | |
| the fire which is here, that even every substance which is somewhat | |
| dry, is easily ignited, because there is less mingled with it of that | |
| which is a hindrance to ignition. Accordingly then everything also | |
| which participates in the common intelligent nature moves in like | |
| manner towards that which is of the same kind with itself, or moves | |
| even more. For so much as it is superior in comparison with all other | |
| things, in the same degree also is it more ready to mingle with and | |
| to be fused with that which is akin to it. Accordingly among animals | |
| devoid of reason we find swarms of bees, and herds of cattle, and | |
| the nurture of young birds, and in a manner, loves; for even in animals | |
| there are souls, and that power which brings them together is seen | |
| to exert itself in the superior degree, and in such a way as never | |
| has been observed in plants nor in stones nor in trees. But in rational | |
| animals there are political communities and friendships, and families | |
| and meetings of people; and in wars, treaties and armistices. But | |
| in the things which are still superior, even though they are separated | |
| from one another, unity in a manner exists, as in the stars. Thus | |
| the ascent to the higher degree is able to produce a sympathy even | |
| in things which are separated. See, then, what now takes place. For | |
| only intelligent animals have now forgotten this mutual desire and | |
| inclination, and in them alone the property of flowing together is | |
| not seen. But still though men strive to avoid this union, they are | |
| caught and held by it, for their nature is too strong for them; and | |
| thou wilt see what I say, if thou only observest. Sooner, then, will | |
| one find anything earthy which comes in contact with no earthy thing | |
| than a man altogether separated from other men. | |
| Both man and God and the universe produce fruit; at the proper seasons | |
| each produces it. But if usage has especially fixed these terms to | |
| the vine and like things, this is nothing. Reason produces fruit both | |
| for all and for itself, and there are produced from it other things | |
| of the same kind as reason itself. | |
| If thou art able, correct by teaching those who do wrong; but if thou | |
| canst not, remember that indulgence is given to thee for this purpose. | |
| And the gods, too, are indulgent to such persons; and for some purposes | |
| they even help them to get health, wealth, reputation; so kind they | |
| are. And it is in thy power also; or say, who hinders thee? | |
| Labour not as one who is wretched, nor yet as one who would be pitied | |
| or admired: but direct thy will to one thing only, to put thyself | |
| in motion and to check thyself, as the social reason requires. | |
| To-day I have got out of all trouble, or rather I have cast out all | |
| trouble, for it was not outside, but within and in my opinions. | |
| All things are the same, familiar in experience, and ephemeral in | |
| time, and worthless in the matter. Everything now is just as it was | |
| in the time of those whom we have buried. | |
| Things stand outside of us, themselves by themselves, neither knowing | |
| aught of themselves, nor expressing any judgement. What is it, then, | |
| which does judge about them? The ruling faculty. | |
| Not in passivity, but in activity lie the evil and the good of the | |
| rational social animal, just as his virtue and his vice lie not in | |
| passivity, but in activity. | |
| For the stone which has been thrown up it is no evil to come down, | |
| nor indeed any good to have been carried up. | |
| Penetrate inwards into men's leading principles, and thou wilt see | |
| what judges thou art afraid of, and what kind of judges they are of | |
| themselves. | |
| All things are changing: and thou thyself art in continuous mutation | |
| and in a manner in continuous destruction, and the whole universe | |
| too. | |
| It is thy duty to leave another man's wrongful act there where it | |
| is. | |
| Termination of activity, cessation from movement and opinion, and | |
| in a sense their death, is no evil. Turn thy thoughts now to the consideration | |
| of thy life, thy life as a child, as a youth, thy manhood, thy old | |
| age, for in these also every change was a death. Is this anything | |
| to fear? Turn thy thoughts now to thy life under thy grandfather, | |
| then to thy life under thy mother, then to thy life under thy father; | |
| and as thou findest many other differences and changes and terminations, | |
| ask thyself, Is this anything to fear? In like manner, then, neither | |
| are the termination and cessation and change of thy whole life a thing | |
| to be afraid of. | |
| Hasten to examine thy own ruling faculty and that of the universe | |
| and that of thy neighbour: thy own that thou mayest make it just: | |
| and that of the universe, that thou mayest remember of what thou art | |
| a part; and that of thy neighbour, that thou mayest know whether he | |
| has acted ignorantly or with knowledge, and that thou mayest also | |
| consider that his ruling faculty is akin to thine. | |
| As thou thyself art a component part of a social system, so let every | |
| act of thine be a component part of social life. Whatever act of thine | |
| then has no reference either immediately or remotely to a social end, | |
| this tears asunder thy life, and does not allow it to be one, and | |
| it is of the nature of a mutiny, just as when in a popular assembly | |
| a man acting by himself stands apart from the general agreement. | |
| Quarrels of little children and their sports, and poor spirits carrying | |
| about dead bodies, such is everything; and so what is exhibited in | |
| the representation of the mansions of the dead strikes our eyes more | |
| clearly. | |
| Examine into the quality of the form of an object, and detach it altogether | |
| from its material part, and then contemplate it; then determine the | |
| time, the longest which a thing of this peculiar form is naturally | |
| made to endure. | |
| Thou hast endured infinite troubles through not being contented with | |
| thy ruling faculty, when it does the things which it is constituted | |
| by nature to do. But enough of this. | |
| When another blames thee or hates thee, or when men say about thee | |
| anything injurious, approach their poor souls, penetrate within, and | |
| see what kind of men they are. Thou wilt discover that there is no | |
| reason to take any trouble that these men may have this or that opinion | |
| about thee. However thou must be well disposed towards them, for by | |
| nature they are friends. And the gods too aid them in all ways, by | |
| dreams, by signs, towards the attainment of those things on which | |
| they set a value. | |
| The periodic movements of the universe are the same, up and down from | |
| age to age. And either the universal intelligence puts itself in motion | |
| for every separate effect, and if this is so, be thou content with | |
| that which is the result of its activity; or it puts itself in motion | |
| once, and everything else comes by way of sequence in a manner; or | |
| indivisible elements are the origin of all things.- In a word, if | |
| there is a god, all is well; and if chance rules, do not thou also | |
| be governed by it. | |
| Soon will the earth cover us all: then the earth, too, will change, | |
| and the things also which result from change will continue to change | |
| for ever, and these again for ever. For if a man reflects on the changes | |
| and transformations which follow one another like wave after wave | |
| and their rapidity, he will despise everything which is perishable. | |
| The universal cause is like a winter torrent: it carries everything | |
| along with it. But how worthless are all these poor people who are | |
| engaged in matters political, and, as they suppose, are playing the | |
| philosopher! All drivellers. Well then, man: do what nature now requires. | |
| Set thyself in motion, if it is in thy power, and do not look about | |
| thee to see if any one will observe it; nor yet expect Plato's Republic: | |
| but be content if the smallest thing goes on well, and consider such | |
| an event to be no small matter. For who can change men's opinions? | |
| And without a change of opinions what else is there than the slavery | |
| of men who groan while they pretend to obey? Come now and tell me | |
| of Alexander and Philip and Demetrius of Phalerum. They themselves | |
| shall judge whether they discovered what the common nature required, | |
| and trained themselves accordingly. But if they acted like tragedy | |
| heroes, no one has condemned me to imitate them. Simple and modest | |
| is the work of philosophy. Draw me not aside to indolence and pride. | |
| Look down from above on the countless herds of men and their countless | |
| solemnities, and the infinitely varied voyagings in storms and calms, | |
| and the differences among those who are born, who live together, and | |
| die. And consider, too, the life lived by others in olden time, and | |
| the life of those who will live after thee, and the life now lived | |
| among barbarous nations, and how many know not even thy name, and | |
| how many will soon forget it, and how they who perhaps now are praising | |
| thee will very soon blame thee, and that neither a posthumous name | |
| is of any value, nor reputation, nor anything else. | |
| Let there be freedom from perturbations with respect to the things | |
| which come from the external cause; and let there be justice in the | |
| things done by virtue of the internal cause, that is, let there be | |
| movement and action terminating in this, in social acts, for this | |
| is according to thy nature. | |
| Thou canst remove out of the way many useless things among those which | |
| disturb thee, for they lie entirely in thy opinion; and thou wilt | |
| then gain for thyself ample space by comprehending the whole universe | |
| in thy mind, and by contemplating the eternity of time, and observing | |
| the rapid change of every several thing, how short is the time from | |
| birth to dissolution, and the illimitable time before birth as well | |
| as the equally boundless time after dissolution. | |
| All that thou seest will quickly perish, and those who have been spectators | |
| of its dissolution will very soon perish too. And he who dies at the | |
| extremest old age will be brought into the same condition with him | |
| who died prematurely. | |
| What are these men's leading principles, and about what kind of things | |
| are they busy, and for what kind of reasons do they love and honour? | |
| Imagine that thou seest their poor souls laid bare. When they think | |
| that they do harm by their blame or good by their praise, what an | |
| idea! | |
| Loss is nothing else than change. But the universal nature delights | |
| in change, and in obedience to her all things are now done well, and | |
| from eternity have been done in like form, and will be such to time | |
| without end. What, then, dost thou say? That all things have been | |
| and all things always will be bad, and that no power has ever been | |
| found in so many gods to rectify these things, but the world has been | |
| condemned to be found in never ceasing evil? | |
| The rottenness of the matter which is the foundation of everything! | |
| Water, dust, bones, filth: or again, marble rocks, the callosities | |
| of the earth; and gold and silver, the sediments; and garments, only | |
| bits of hair; and purple dye, blood; and everything else is of the | |
| same kind. And that which is of the nature of breath is also another | |
| thing of the same kind, changing from this to that. | |