Marcus Aurelius
The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius was perhaps the only true philosopher- king(sic,he forgets Julian) in the history of the world. He was not an original nor a systematic philosopher, but in his meditations, a series of notes to himself, he formulated his pantheist Stoic beliefs with a passionate religious conviction.
He shared the basic Stoic belief in the divinity of the cosmos as an intelligent being with a soul, and stressed (perhaps too fatalistically) the harmony of all things and the importance of resigning oneself to whatever happened.
Marcus Aurelius reigned from 161 AD to 180 AD. He seems to have been a good and conscientious ruler who was magnanimous towards his enemies. He banned informers, stamped down hard on corruption, and freed slaves at every opportunity. Although he tolerated the circus, he ordered gladiators to fight with blunted points. Needing extra funds for his wars in Eastern Europe, he refused to raise taxes but instead held a public auction of his own golden tableware and of his wife's silk and gold embroidered dresses.
The Meditations were written day by day, in every situation including war. They often appear to be responses to the stress of supreme power, from the imminent fear of death in battle, to the trials of everyday life.
With hindsight Marcus' greatest omission was that he did not impose Stoicism as the imperial religion, with as much rigour as Theodosius later imposed Christianity. Had he done so, the history of the world might have turned out very differently. But the fact that he was more tolerant might be regarded as another of his virtues.
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS
BOOK ONE
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 OUGHT 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 THE 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.
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Originally Posted by Nordhammer
What an emperor. He also killed his child and sister...
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