No More Learning

It is now located at the beginning like a kind of introduction, but it is really more of a parallel work; it is obviously related to the Meditations (in Book VI, 30, r example, we can discern an initial sketch ofthe portrait ofAntoninus Pius), but it repre­ sents a wholly di erent psychic disposition. Book I is a prayer of thanks­ giving, whereas Books II to XII are a meditation on the Stoic dogmas and rule oflife. These latter books were composed on a day-to-day basis, with each thought llowing without any connection to the previous thought; whereas Book I was written at a precise moment, and in ac­ cordance with a precise plan.
Books II-XII
As discussed previously, it is not certain whether the twelve books as we have them today corresponded to twelve groups of meditations which, in the eyes of their author, had their own unity, de ned by one or more dominant themes. In that case, they would a ow us to glimpse some­ thing ofMarcus' personal preoccupations, or ofwhat he happened to be reading. Or is this grouping into twelve books purely accidental, perhaps a result of the rm and dimensions of the writing materials that were used? Book I obviously represents a coherent whole in itsel it responds to a very particular intention and is independent om the eleven other books. What can we say about Books II-XII?
At rst glance, the divisions between these groups ofmeditations seem purely arbitrary. The same themes and expressions are repeated through­ out them. The tripartite structure of the disciplines which I have de­ scribed has no influence on the work's literary rm; instead, it is re­ peated in the most varied rms. A precise plan cannot be discerned in any ofthese books, with the possible exception ofBook III, which turns out to be a kind ofseries ofessays on the theme ofthe good man.
Nevertheless, a close examination allows us to discover some charac­ teristics which are peculiar to each of these books: vorite themes, special vocabularies, the greater or lesser equency of the literary rms that are used-whether they are sayings, r example, or rather short dissertations. We are justi ed in supposing that if Marcus wrote his Meditations on a day-to-day basis, and probably during the last years ofhis
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li , then certain spiritual preoccupations or readings may have in uenced him in di erent ways at di erent moments in the process of composition.
The preferred themes in a given book o en appear by means of a process that I would call "interwoven composition. " Marcus does not gather together one a er the other those meditations which deal with the same subject; instead-probably on a day-to-day basis-he interweaves them with other thoughts which deal with entirely di erent subjects. In other words, after an interruption, which may be very brie he returns to the theme which, r the time being, has retained his attention. Throughout a given book, then, one or more precise themes reappear intermittently, like a leitmotif
Books II and III are very close to each other. Within them, death is sensed as imminent (II, 2; II, 5; II, 6; II, l l; II, 12; II, 14; II, 17), and there is no more time to distract oneselfby reading (II, 2; 3). Marcus decides not to write anything more which does not contribute to the trans rmation ofhis moral life and to his meditation on Stoic doctrines (III, 14). It is urgent that he change his life, especially since he has received so many reprieves om the gods (II, 14). Only one thing counts: philosophy (II, 17, 3), which consists of the three disciplines. First, it means keeping the guiding principle ofthe soul (hegemonikon; II, 2, 4), or-another way ofexpressing the same thing-the soul (II, 6) or else the inner daimon (II, 17, 4; II, 13, 2), ee om the slave offalse thoughts (II, 2, 4). This is the discipline ofthought orjudgment. Second, the soul must be kept pure ofall irritation against events, and accept the portion which has been attributed to it by destiny (II, 2, 4; II, 16, l-2; II, 17, 4); this is the discipline ofdesire. Finally, it must be kept pure ofall egoistic action, or actions which are undertaken lightly or without a goal (II, 2, 4; II, 17; 4); this is the discipline ofaction.
Book III takes up exactly the same themes. We nd in it the same atmosphere of the imminence of death, and Marcus' decision to devote himself exclusively to spiritual exercises intended to trans rm moral life:
Cease your wandering. Don't read your little notebooks any more (III, 14).
We also re-encounter the description ofthe one thing necessary, and the only thing that counts in such an urgent situation: to maintain the purity of one's daimon or guiding principle, in the areas of thought, desire, and action.
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations
It is very interesting, however, to observe how Book III attempts to present these themes om Book II in a much more developed and elaborate way, so that Book III is essentially made up ofa series ofshort dissertations which are all on the same topic: the description ofthe "good man" as an ideal r life, and the enumeration ofthose precepts which permit the realization of such an ideal (III, 9-1 1). An initial attempt is presented in III, 4 (in about rty lines), then brie y taken up again in III, 5 ( r about ten lines), and then nally set rth abundantly once again in III, 6-8 (in about rty lines). The "good man," who has pre­ ferred his inner daimon in every circumstance, and is in some way its priest and its se ant, attains the supreme level of human happiness, which consists in acting in accordance with right reason (III, 7, 2).
Books IV-XII are rather di erent om the two preceding books. First ofall, even ifwe do sometimes nd short dissertations ofthe same kind as those in Book III, especially in Books V, X, and XI, the majority of meditations in these books appear in the rm of short, striking sayings. Marcus himself seems to theorize about this literary genre when he mentions the "spiritual retreat into himsel " which consists precisely in the act ofconcentrating on "short and ndamental" sayings which can dissipate all griefand irritation (IV, 3, 1-3).
Some themes om Books II-III are still present in Book IV: r instance, the theme ofthe imminence ofdeath and the ideal ofthe "good man" (IV, 17; c£ IV, 25; 37):
Don't live as ifyou were going to live r ten thousand years. The inevitable is hanging over you. As long as you are still alive, and as long at it is still possible, become a good man.
As in the previous books, this sense ofurgency does not allow Marcus to waste his time by concerning himselfwith what others do or say (IV, 1 8) ; rather, one must hasten toward the goal by the shortest path possible (IV,
18; 51).
The notion of the daimon disappears almost completely in the later
books, and reappears in the Meditations only sporadically (V, IO, 6; V, 27; VIII, 45, 1; X, 13, 2; XII, 3, 4). By contrast, new themes, which be und throughout all the llowing books, make their appearance. For example, we ndthe dilemma "Providence or atoms" (IV, 3, 6), which I have already discussed at some length.
In Book V, the themes which had dominated Books II and III disap­ pear or become blurred once and r all. In particular, although death is
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sometimes still mentioned as a possibility which might compromise our e orts toward per ction, it is now also present as a liberation r which we must wait with patience and con dence; r it will deliver us om a human world in which moral li -the only thing that counts, and the only valu i s constantly ustrated (V, I O, 6; V, 3 3 , 5).
In another new theme, Marcus exhorts himselfto examine his con­ science (V, I I):
Toward which goal am I using my soul in this moment? Ask myself this question in every circumstance . . .
Similarly, he wonders (V, 3I) how he has behaved with regard to the gods, his mily, his teachers, his friends, and his slaves. Here we recog­ nize the domain of "duties" (kathekonta), which are the subject of the discipline of action. Marcus continues by sketching a kind of balance sheetofhisli (V,31, 2),which,asinV,IO, 6andV,33, 5,givesusto understand that he can wait r death with serenity, since he has had everything he could expect om life.
One particular notion, to which Book II had made only a brief allu­ sion (II, 9), is amply and equently developed in Book V: the distinction between universal Nature and "my" own nature. As we have seen, this distinction is the basis of the opposition between the discipline of desire, which consists in consenting to the ct that I "su er" owing to the action ofuniversal Nature, and the discipline ofaction, which consists in "acting" by virtue ofmy own rational nature (V, 3 , 2; V, IO, 6; V, 25, 2; V, 27):
In this very moment, I have what common Nature wants me to have at this moment, and at this moment I am doing what my own nature wants me to do at this moment (V, 25, 2).
As Marcus says, the road that these two natures llow is, in ct, the same (V, 3 , 2) ; it is the straightest and shortest road. It is here, moreover, that the notion ofthe daimon brie y reappears, and it is extremely inter­ esting to observe an identi cation and an opposition between the "outer" god, who is universal Nature or Reason, and the "inner" god­ the daimon or hegemonikon-who emanates om it (V, I O , 6) :
Nothing will happen to me which is not in con rmity with the Nature ofthe All. It depends on me to do nothing which is contrary to my god and my daimon.
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations
This is why moral life can be de ned as "a life with the gods" (V, 27):
He lives with the gods who constantly shows them a soul which greets what has been allotted to it with joy, and, at the same time, does everything wanted by that daimon which Zeus [i. e. , universal Nature] has given to each person as a watchman and a guide, and which is a parcel detached om himself This is nothing other than the intellect and reason of each of us.
This theme ofthe two natures is und in otherbooks (VI, 58; VII, 55, XI, 13, 4 ; XII, 32, 3), but never as equently as in Book V.
l ;
Other themes also seem to be characteristic ofBook V. For example, it contains two allusions to a Stoic cosmological doctrine which Marcus mentions very rarely: that ofthe eternal return. Usually, Marcus imagines the metamo hoses ofthings and the destiny ofsouls within the "period" ofthe world in which we are now living, without worrying about the eternal return ofthis period. This is what he does rst, in V, 13, where he begins by a rming that each part ofthe universe, as it is born and dies, is trans rmed into another part ofthe universe. Yet he remarks:
There is nothing to prevent one om talking like this, even if the world is administered in accordance with determinate periods.
In this case, he means, all the parts of the universe will be reabsorbed at the end of each period into the original Fire-Reason, be re they are reborn om this same Fire in the llowing period. Elsewhere, in V, 32, we get a glimpse ofthe immensity ofthe space that opens up be re the soul which "knows"-that is, which accepts Stoic doctrine:
It knows the beginning and the end, and the Reason which tra­ verses universal substance, and which administers the All through­ out eternity, in accordance with determinate periods.
We do not nd another allusion to the eternal return until XI, l , 3 . Finally, an important autobiographical theme also makes its appear­ ance in Book V: the opposition, which constitutes a serious personal problem r Marcus, between the court at which he is obliged to live, and philosophy, to which he would like to devote himself entirely (V, 1 6 , 2). This theme will be taken up again in Book VI (12, 2), and in Book
VIII (9).
The rst meditations of Book VI present a good example of the
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"interwoven composition" of which I have been speaking. Chapter l deals with the Stoic doctrine that explains the constitution of reality by the opposition between the matter of the world-which is docile and ready r any and all trans rmations, and in which there is there re no evil-and the "Reason which guides it," in which there is similarly no place r evil. After three very short meditations, which have no connec­ tion with this problem, Marcus returns (VI, 5) to the theme of the beginning: the action which the "Reason which guides" exerts upon matter. The expression "Reason which guides/governs" (dioikon logos), which is attested in VI, l and 5, is not und elsewhere in the Meditations, with the exception of a quotation om Heraclitus in IV, 46, 3 . One could say that it is as if this book's rst meditations were inspired by a reading which dealt with the goodness of that Reason which governs matter.
Some personal features also appear in Book VI. For instance, Marcus mentions (VI, 26) his own name, Antoninus, which he received after having been adopted by Antoninus Pius. He also makes a distinction within himsel as it were, between "Antoninus," the Emperor whose city is Rome, and the "man," whose city is the World (VI, 44, 6). Marcus takes up this distinction between Emperor and man again in VI, 3 0, and he advises himself not to "become Caesarized, " or let the impe­ rial purple rub o on the man. He then turns to the model which Antoninus Pius, his adoptive ther, had represented r him. Advising himselfto "Do everything as a disciple ofAntoninus," Marcus describes some of the qualities he admired in Antoninus, which may guide him in his way of governing and living.
Even more than Book VI, Book VII gives a number of examples of "interwoven composition. " Marcus returns to a few vorite, recurrent themes, which, although they are present in other books as well, reap­ pear with regularity om one end of Book VII to the other, separated om each other only by a few meditations which deal with other sub­
jects. Thus, he repeats several times that we have the power to criticize and to modi the value-judgments which we apply to things (VII, 2, 2; VII, 14; VII, 16; VII, 17, 2; VII, 68); that things are subject to rapid and universal metamorphosis (VII, rn; VII, 18; VII, 19; VII, 23; VII, 25); that it is vain to seek r me and glory (VII, 6; VII, rn; VII, 21; VII, 62). Marcus also speaks of how we are to behave and the principles we must recall when someone has committed a ult against us (VII, 22; VII, 26); and nally, he exalts the excellence and the supremacy of moral li (that is to say, ofthe three disciplines), by comparison with all other qualities (VII, 52; VII, 66-67; VII, 72).
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations
Chapters 3 l to 5 l are extremely interesting because they seem to have preserved r us traces ofthe notebooks Marcus wrote r himself These quotations om various authors-Democritus (VII, 3 l , 4), Plato (VII,
35; VII, 44-46), Antisthenes, and Euripides (VII, 38-42; VII, 50-51)­ are probably secondhand. For example, Marcus probably read the l­ lowing quote om Antisthenes, "To do good and yet to have a bad reputation is something which kings can expect," in the Discourses of Epictetus as recorded by Arrian (see IV, 6, 20). It was a the more likely to attract Marcus' attention in that it may have seemed to him to re ect his own experience. The quotations om Euripides, r their part, e­ quently appeared in collections of sayings. In another book (XI, 6), Marcus composes a brief history of the dramatic art, alluding successively to tragedy, old comedy, and new comedy. In the context of tragedy, Marcus notes that tragedians gave use l moral lessons, and he quotes the same three texts om Euripides-in which the Stoics recognized their own doctrine-which we nd in chapters 38, 40, and 41 ofBook VII:
Ifthe gods have abandoned me, as well as my children, there is a reason r that as well.
We must not become angry with things, r it is not their ult.
To harvest li like a swollen ear ofgrain; one exists; the other is no more .
"Interwoven composition" is also used quite abundantly in Book VIII; I shall give only one very typical example. Book VIII marks the reap­ pearance ofa theme that we have already encountered: the short, straight path which is proper to nature. Rational human nature llows its path and heads straight r its goal ifit practices the three disciplines (VIII, 7). In this book, however, the theme takes on a nuance which it did not have in the others: now Marcus speaks ofthe rectilinear movement not only of nature, but also of the intellect. Moreover, instead of describing the movement proper to the intellect on one occasion, Marcus returns to it three times in di erent chapters, and these occurrences are separated by meditations which are unrelated to this subject. He rst touches on the theme in chapter 54, where he urges himself to breathe the intellect which embraces all things as ifit were the surrounding air: r the power of the intellect, he writes, is d u sed eve where, like the air which beings breathe. Then come two chapters-55 and 56-which are unrelated to this theme. The theme reappears in chapter 57, where the movement of
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the intellect is no longer compared to that of the air, but to that of the light ofthe sun, which, says Marcus, is d u sed everywhere and extends in a straight line as it illuminates the objects it encounters, thus somehow assimilating them to itself Then come two other chapters, which deal with entirely di erent themes. In chapter 60, we return to our miliar theme: here the movement of the intellect is compared to that of an arrow. Like an arrow, the intellect moves in a straight line toward its goal when it advances prudently and takes the trouble to examine things attentively. Chapter 54 spoke only of the divine intellect in which we participate, whereas chapters 57 and 60 describe the movement of our intellect as it imitates the divine intellect. It is hard to imagine that Marcus would have thus returned three times to a very speci c theme unless he had been under the in uence of a particular reading, or at least ofa momentary preoccupation. Be that as it may, chapters 54, 57, and 60 are intimately linked to one another.
In Book VIII, the theme of universal metamorphosis takes on a very particular rm. Here, Nature has the power to use the detritus which results om its vital activity to create new beings (VIII, 50). Since it has no space outside itselfwhere it can throw this detritus, it trans rms it within itselfand makes it into its matter once again (VIII, 18). Intellectual or rational nature, r its part, trans rms the obstacles that oppose its
activity into a subject r exercises, which thereby permits it to attain its goal by using that which resists it (VIII, 7, 2; VIII, 32; VIII, 35; VIII, 41; VIII, 47; VIII, 54; VIII, 57).
We can note a few autobiographical allusions in Book VIII, such as life at court (VIII, 9) and speeches be re the Senate (VIII, 30). Figures ofthe dead who were close to Marcus are evoked: his mother (VIII, 25) and his adoptive brother (VIII, 37). Encouragements to examine his conscience, which had already occurred in Book V, reappear several times (VIII, 1-2) and are linked to the theme ofthe imminence ofdeath (VIII, i; VIII, 8; VIII, 22, 2).
Although Book IX, like Books IV, VI, VII, and VIII, is composed r the most part ofbriefsayings, it does contain ve rather long expositions, which vary in length om about thirty to rty lines, and which have either no parallels in the rest of Marcus' works, or at the very least few parallels. In IX, 1, Marcus demonstrates rigorously that the lapses one commits in the three disciplines of action, thought, and desire constitute ults ofimpiety and injustice with regard to Nature, the most venerable of deities. In IX, 3 , we nd an exposition on the theme of death: not only does Marcus expect and wait r the dissolution ofthe body, but, as
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations
in Book V, this dissolution is perceived as a liberation. When Marcus speaks of the tigue produced by discord in communal life (IX, 3 , 8) , and prays r death to come as soon as possible, we can perhaps detect an autobiographical trait; I shall return to this point later. In IX, 9, reason establishes that the higher up one rises in the hierarchy of beings, the more mutual attraction is increased. In IX, 40, the problem ofprayer is examined. Finally, in IX, 42, we nd a collection of considerations intended as a remedy r the temptation ofanger.
Book IX may also contain some rther autobiographical allusions: r example, the rapid evocation ofMarcus' childhood (IX, 21); a possible allusion to the plague which was then ravaging the Empire (IX, 2, 4) ; and above all a highly important re ection on the art of governing (IX, 29) .
Book IX also has its own peculiarities ofvocabulary. Nowhere else, r instance, does Marcus use the expression ektos aitia ("outer cause") to designate the causality ofFate and ofuniversal Nature (IX, 6; IX, 3 1).
I n the entirely di erent context o f the relations between oneself and others, Book IX is the only one to mention the paradigm of the gods, who, despite the ults ofmankind, maintain their benevolence toward humans and help them in the area of things which, to the Stoics, are indi erent and have no moral value, such as health and glory, r exam­ ple (IX, I I ; IX, 27) . The Emperor, too, will consequently also have to be attentive to those human desires which are not in con rmity with phi­ losophy.
Book IX likes to insist upon the necessity of "penetrating into the guiding principle of other people's souls, " in order to understand the motives which make them act in a certain way, and there re excuse them (IX, 18; IX, 22; IX, 27; IX, 34).
I n Book X , the number of longer expositions ( om thirty to one hundred lines) clearly increases, and we nd r fewer examples of "in­ terwoven composition. " One should note, however, the recurrence of the theme of a realistic vision of other people (X, 1 3 ; 1 9) . In order to
judge people in accordance with their true value, we must observe them or imagine them when they eat, sleep, make love, and relieve them­ selves.
When Marcus evokes the picture ofpeople whispering around a sick­ bed-which could be his own-we get the impression that the Emperor is sharing a con dence with us when he makes them say: "At last that schoolmaster is going to let us breathe! "
Book X is the only one to use the word theoretikon. It occurs in X, 9, 2, where the importance ofthe theoretic undations ofaction is a rmed;
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and again in X , l l , I , where Marcus exhorts himself to acquire a theoretic method, in order to practice the spiritual exercise which consists in recognizing the universal metamo hosis of all things; in other words, this exercise must be based upon solid, well-assimilated dogmas. It is also only in Book X that reason and the intellect, which take all events as od r their moral life, are compared to a healthy stomach, which assimilates to itselfallkinds of od (X, 3I, 6; X, 35, 3).
Book XI can be divided into two parts: there are the rst twenty-one chapters, and then there are the nal eighteen, which are a collection of quotations and notes jotted down in the course of Marcus' readings, comparable to the similar group which we encountered in the middle of Book VII. Why is it here? It is impossible to say. At least eight of these passages come om the Discourses of Epictetus, as collected by Arrian. The rest consists ofquotations om Homer and Hesiod, agments om the tragic poets, and other reminiscences om Marcus' readings.
In the rst part of Book XI, long expositions (of which there are urteen) are much more equent than short sayings (seven). The phe­ nomenon of "interwoven composition" scarcely appears, and there are few recurrent themes, with the exception ofthe theme ofthe eedom which we possess to criticize and to suspend our judgments on events and things. We nd this theme in two passages, almost identical in rm (XI, II; XI, 16, 2):
Things do not reach us, but they remain immobile outside of us.
Several ofthe longer expositions have no parallel in the rest ofMarcus' work: the detailed description of the properties of the rational soul (XI, l), r instance, or the method of division of objects and events (XI, 2); the history oftragedy and comedy (XI, 6), which I mentioned above; the
description ofthe luminous sphere ofthe soul (XI, 12), as well as that of true sincerity which one cannot help discerning immediately, like a man's bad odor (XI, 15). Finally, there is the long enumeration ofthe dogmas which can cure us ofanger (XI, 18). By its content and its rm, then, Book XI is rather di erent om the other books ofthe Meditations.
Book XII also has its characteristic expressions. "Stripped of their bark" umna ton phloi n), r instance, recurs twice in it. On the one hand, divine vision sees the guiding principles ofsouls "stripped oftheir bark" (XII, 2); on the other, we must exercise ourselves in order to be able to see the elements of those beings which have causal rce-in other words, none other than the guiding principles of souls-"stripped
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations 273
oftheir bark" (XII, 8). The theme ofthe separation ofthe center ofthe soul om all its envelopes is, moreover, one of the major motifs of the Meditations. We nd it sketched as ea y as the rst chapter, where we are urged not to recognize anything but the hegemonikon, or guiding princi­ ple of the soul, as the sole thing of value. The theme is developed in chapter 2 (like God himsel see nothing but the hegemonikon), and in chapter 3 (separate everything reign om the intellect, the culty of thought, and the guiding principle of the soul). We nd it again in chapter 8 (see those elements which have causal valu t hat is, the guid­ ing principles of souls-stripped of their bark) ; in chapter r 9 (become aware ofwhat is most noble and divine within us); and nally, in chapter 3 3 , where the Emperor asks himself about the use he is making of the guiding part ofhis soul, r "Everything depends upon that. "
We have just encountered the notion of an "element having a causal value" (aitiodes). For Marcus, this concept is opposed to the notion of a material element ulikon). As we have seen, this is one ofthe ndamen­ tal oppositions of Stoic physics. For Marcus, however, it serves above all to rmulate a spiritual exercise which is described again and again in Book XII: it consists in the intellect or guiding part ofthe soul becoming aware of itself as a causal, guiding, determining element, so that it may distinguish and separate itself om the material element. In other words, it must separate itself not only om the body, but om everything that does not depend upon us. This is why the theme of the opposition between the "causal" and the "material" also recurs constantly in Book XII (XII, 8; XII, ro; XII, r8; XII, 29).
The preceding brief analyses-no doubt somewhat tedious-should allow the reader to impse the ct that in almost all the books of the Meditations, a characteristic vocabulary and recurrent themes can be dis­ covered. This leads us to suspect that each chapter rms a comparatively autonomous unity. Although it is true that there are many literal repeti­ tions throughout the Meditations, it is nevertheless also true that particu­ larities can be observed that are proper to each chapter.
The nal three chapters of Book XII, which are also those of the entire work, are concerned with death. The last chapter, which is in the rm ofa dialogue, thus seems particularly moving (XII, 36):
0 man, you have played your part as a citizen in this great City! What does it matter to you whether you have played it r ve, or r one hundred years? For that which is distributed in accordance with the law is equal r all. What is there that is terrible ifyou are
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sent away om this City, not by a tyrant or an unjustjudge, but by that Nature who had put you on stage in the rst place, as a praetor dismisses an actor he has hired?
-But I acted only three acts, and not ve!
-You are right; but in li three acts make up a complete play; r what makes the play complete is determined by He who is the cause both of constitution and of dissolution. You, by contrast, are cause neither ofthe one nor ofthe other. Leave, then, in peace; r He who dismisses you does so in peace.
It has been claimed52 that the Meditations deliberately end with the word "peace. " Perhaps; but who placed it there? Was it Marcus, resee­ ing his imminent death? Was it the person who edited his meditations, and removed one om its place to put it there? These words are, more­ over, an echo ofthe rst pages ofBook II (3, 3): "Don't die murmuring, but truly in peace, thanking the gods om the bottom ofyour heart. "
We can thus see-in an entirely hypothetical way-that some kind of order and speci c correspondences have perhaps been introduced among these eleven books (II-XII) , which are groups of meditations written on a daily basis. It could no doubt be objected that in a work in which the thought of death plays so considerable a role, it is not surprising to encounter it-whether in the rst or the last lines-without this indicat­ ing any kind ofstylistic composition. One might also wonder, however, why at the beginnings ofBooks III, VIII, X, and XII, we nd examina­ tions ofconscience which are all analogously inspired by the imminence ofdeath. They are situated in a rather privileged position, as ifthe author or editor had wanted to provide a kind ofintroduction to the llowing meditations. In these examinations, Marcus exhorts himselfto immediate conversion, r he is a aid that even be re death, his intellectual capaci­ ties may be weakened to the point where they no longer allow him to live a moral life. He is still r om having succeeded in becoming a philosopher, and he recognizes that, in the last analysis, what he should fear the most is not ceasing to live, but iling to begin to live (XII, r , 5) . This is the source of Marcus' melancholy question at the beginning of Book X:
0 my soul; will you ever be good and simple; one and naked; more luminous than the body which surrounds you? Will you ever be l lled, without need, neither regretting nor desiring anything . . .
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations 275 Will you ever be happy with what 1s happening to you at the
present moment?
Generally speaking, a short saying is never placed at the beginning of a book. Books II-XII always open with a relatively lengthy exposition, which can vary om ve to thirty- ve lines. Books II and V both begin with an exercise which is to be practiced in the morning: "At dawn . . . "; "In the morning, when you have trouble getting up . . . " The compara­ tively long dissertations on the rational soul (XI, 1 ) and on impiety with regard to nature (IX, I) also seem to have been placed at the beginning of these books because of the importance of the subject matter with which they deal.
As I have said, the equent repetitions which can be observed in the Meditations allow us to suppose that they were composed on a day-to-day basis. The slight indications which I have just enumerated, however, perhaps allow us to glimpse some ofMarcus' habits- r instance, that of beginning a new notebook with a speci c type of exhortation. In any event, I have thought it worthwhile to point out such details in the hope that they may inspire more in-depth research.
Remembe ng the dead
As we have seen, the Meditations are dominated, om one end to the other, by the thought of death. Within the work, death appears succes­ sively as an imminence which may prevent Marcus om nally raising himself up to the level of the philosophical life; or as a phenomenon of nature which is no more extraordinary than any other; and nally as a liberation, which will deliver Marcus om a world where people are ignorant ofthe sole value: that ofvirtue and the moral good.
From beginning to end, the Meditations are also an exercise ofprepara­ tion r death, which involves, among other things, evoking mous gures of bygone times, who, in spite of their power, knowledge, and renown, died like everybody else. Just like Fran ois Villon, Marcus thus composes his Ballad the Lords Former Times. To be sure, it was too ea y r Marcus to wonder: "But where is the knight Charlemagne? "53 Yet he does mention Alexander-as well as his mule-driver-Ar­ chimedes, Augustus, Caesar, Chrysippus, Croesus, Democritus, Epictetus, Eudoxus, Heraclitus, Hipparchus, Hippocrates, Menippus, Philip, Pompey, Pythagoras, Socrates, Tiberius, Trajan, and all those
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who are now no more than legendary names (VIII, 2 5 , 3) or are men­ tioned only rarely: Caeso, Volesus, Dentatus, Scipio, and Cato. He also speaks ofpeople who are less noble, but did have their moment of me, like the mimographers Philistion, Phoebus, and Origanion (VI, 47, 1). Marcus also thinks ofthe whole crowd ofanonymous people: doctors, astrologers, philosophers, princes, and tyrants ofbygone days; as well as the people of Pompeii (IV, 48, 1 ; VIII, 1 , 2) and Herculaneum. Finally, he thinks ofall the people who lived in the time ofVespasian or Trajan: they have all been swept away by death.
Marcus also thinks ofthe people he knew during his li . His adoptive brother Lucius Verus, who reigned together with Marcus, died compara­ tively young. He had married Lucilla, one of Marcus' daughters; but be re this marriage, when he was staying at Antioch, he had a mistress named Pantheia. Pantheia was om Smyrna, and she was delight lly portrayed by the satirist Lucian in 163-164. She gures in two of his works: Images and the D nse ef Images. Was she really as beauti l, cultivated, good-hearted, simple, sweet, and benevolent as Lucian says? And yet, unless he was mocking her, Lucian could scarcely have made up such details as that she sang while accompanying herself on the cithara; that she spoke Ionic Greek; that she behaved modestly and simply to those who approached her; and that she knew how to laugh at Lucian's praise. What happened to Pantheia a er the marriage ofLucilla? Did she remain in the entourage ofLucius, who, ifwe can believe the gossip of the Histo a Augusta, seems not to have had any qualms about bringing back om Antioch to Rome a band of eed slaves, with whom he caroused? 54
In any event, it is rather touching to encounter the gure ofPantheia in the Meditations. This allows us to suppose that she had remained close to Lucius Verus until his death, and that she herself had died a w years a ft e r h e r l o v e r ( V I I I , 3 7 ) :
Are Pantheia and Pergamos [perhaps a male lover o fLucius Verus? ] still sitting near the ashes ofVerus?
Or Chabrias and Diotimos near those ofHadrian?
How ridiculous! [probably because they too were dead].
And even if they were still sitting there, would the dead notice them? And if the dead noticed them, would they derive pleasure om their presence? And if the dead did derive some pleasure, would those who were sitting there be immortal? Has it not been xed by Destiny that those who were sitting there should rst
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become old women and men, and nally die? What will happen to the dead, when those who had been sitting near their ashes are dead too?
This same Book VIII describes analogous situations, in which living people weep r the dead, and are themselves wept over shortly a er­ wards (VIII, 25): Marcus' mother Lucilla, who lost her husband Verus, and then died in turn; Secunda, the wi of Maximus, one of Marcus' friends and teachers, who died after having buried Maximus; Antoninus, Marcus' adoptive ther, who decreed the apotheosis ofhis wi Faustina, and then did not survive her r long. Marcus also evokes Caninius Celer,55 one of his rhetoric teachers, who had been secretary to the emperor Hadrian, and who had perhaps delivered the latter's neral oration. He too was dead by the time Marcus was writing. In this context we also nd a certain Diotimos, no doubt a eedman ofHadrian, and the same person whom Marcus had pictured sitting near Hadrian's neral urn in the description cited above (VIII, 37).
Elsewhere, Marcus again causes all kinds o f characters whom h e has known to come to life be re our eyes; but it is di cult r us to identi them.
It is especially in Book I that Marcus evokes the dead who had been close to him: his parents, his teachers, Antoninus Pius, his adoptive brother Lucius Verus, and the Empress Faustina. There is no melancholy in these pages, which retain only the virtues of the beings whom the Emperor has known and loved. Yet we cannot help eling that the Emperor is thinking nostal cally of those whom he has loved, and whose departure has left him pro undly alone.
The "Confessions" ofMarcus Aurelius
There is a sense in which Book I represents Marcus' "Confessions," in the way that there are " Con ssions " of Saint Augustine: not the more or less indecent confessions ofaJean-Jacques Rousseau, but an act ofthanks r the bene ts one has received om gods and men. 56 The book ends with the llowing rmula:
this requires the help ofthe gods and ofGood Fortune.
This remark refers especially to chapter 17, which enumerates all the special vors which the gods have granted; but it also applies to the
entire book, r it is thanks to the "help of the gods and of Good Fortune" that Marcus thinks he has been lucky enough to have the parents, teachers, and iends that he has had.
Book I has a most peculiar structure. In sixteen chapters of unequal length, the Emperor evokes sixteen people to whom Destiny has related him. They have each been the example r him ofspeci c virtues, either generally or in a given circumstance; or else they have given him a piece of advice which has had a strong in uence upon him. The seventeenth chapter enumerates the bene ts which the gods have showered upon him throughout his life, by making him meet a certain person or experi­ ence a particular event. There is thus often an echo between the rst sixteen chapters and the seventeenth.
The rst chapters provide a sketch, as it were, of the history of a life which has been a spiritual itinerary. First comes childhood, surrounded by the tutelary gures of Marcus' grand ther, Annius Verus; his ther, who died so young; his mother; his great-grand ther, Catilius Severus; his tutor; and a certain Diognetus.
Then we have the discovery ofphilosophy, withJunius Rusticus, and Marcus' teachers Apollonius and Sextus. This part ofhis life is so impor­ tant to Marcus that he inverts chronological order, by placing his gram­ mar teacher, Alexander of Cotiaeum, and his rhetoric teacher, Fronto, after the philosophers. Then Marcus moves on to his iends and loved ones, whom he evokes because they have either been models r him, or philosophy teachers: there was Alexander the Platonist, who was his secretary r Greek correspondence; the Stoic Cinna Catulus; Claudius Severus, of whom Marcus remembers especially what he learned om him about the heroes of Republican Rome; and another statesman, the Stoic Claudius Maximus. Chapter 16 contains a lengthy portrait of the emperor Antoninus Pius. By living with him r twenty-three years­ om the age ofseventeen until he became emperor at the age of rty­ Marcus had been able to observe his adoptive ther at length, and to be pro undly in uenced by him.
In the course of the enumeration in chapter r 7 of the vors which the gods have granted Marcus, some of these characters reappear, especially Antoninus Pius, Marcus' relatives, his mother, and three philosopher­ iends: Apollonius, Rusticus, and Maximus. He also evokes his grand ­ ther's concubine, and two " temptations " named Benedicta and Theodo­ tus; as well as his adoptive brother Lucius Verus, and Marcus' wi , the Empress Faustina.
In all likelihood, other people had also played a crucial role in Marcus'
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li . One thinks, r example, ofHerodes Atticus, the "ancient billion­ aire. "57 This renowned rhetor, such a powerful gure in Athens, had been Marcus' rhetoric teacher; but he does not appear in Book I. In this particular case, there could be two reasons r such silence. In the rst place, Herodes was a shady character. Marcus had a great deal ofa ection r him, and guided him through the two trials in which Herodes was implicated, particularly in 174, when Herodes was summoned to the Emperor's headquarters at Sirmium on charges brought against him by the Athenians. 58 Nevertheless, Marcus could hardly il to recognize that Herodes was scarcely a model r the philosophical life. Another reason r Marcus' silence could possibly be that the Emperor seems to talk only about the dead in Book I, whereas Herodes did not die until 179. We might thus suppose that Book I was written between 176 and 179, perhaps at Rome in 177 or 178.
To understand the way Marcus wrote Book I, it will perhaps be su cient to examine how he evokes the gure of Fronto, his Latin rhetoric teacher. When we read the correspondence exchanged between Fronto and Marcus, we get the impression ofan intimate friendship, with a perpetual exchange of ideas, advice, and vors. Thus, one would expect Book I to contain a lengthy couplet on Marcus' venerated teacher. Yet the Emperor devotes only three lines to him, whereas he uses thirteen lines to speak ofhis debt toward Rusticus. What has Marcus retained om all those years ofworking intimacy with Fronto? Only two things, which have nothing to do with rhetoric (I, 1 1) :
To have learned how tyranny leads to envious evil, to caprices, and to dissimulation; and how, on the whole, those whom we call "patricians " are somehow lacking in a ectionateness.
Marcus' remark about the patricians is indeed attested in his corre­ spondence with Fronto; and this allows us to glimpse that behind each one of Marcus' notes, there is certainly a precise matter of ct. For instance, Fronto writes to the emperor Lucius Verus, in order to recom­ mend to him one of his students, Gavius Clams. He praises Gavius' conscientiousness, modesty, reserve, generosity, simplicity, continence, truth lness, and entirely Roman uprightness:
. . . I don't know ifhis a ectionateness hilostorgia) is Roman, r in all my life at Rome, there is nothing I have und less o en than a man having sincere a ectionateness. I would not be surprised i
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since there is really no one to b e und at Rome who has a ection­ ateness, there is no Latin word to designate this virtue. 59
When he writes to the proconsul Lollianus Avitus to recommend Licinius Montanus to him, Fronto uses an analogous enumeration: "He is sober, honest, tender in his a ections hilosto us) . . . " And he notes once again that there is no Latin word r that quality. 60 When Marcus writes to his teacher in Latin, he addresses him in Greek as philosto e anthrope, as if there were indeed no Latin equivalent r this Greek word. 61 We may wonder whether this remark does not contain a hint of resentment on the part of the provincial homo novus Fronto with regard to the old Roman aristocracy. In any case, Fronto's remark struck Mar­ cus, and we may suppose that he too sensed a lack of tenderness of the heart in the ruling class. In the Meditations, Marcus exhorts himself sev­ eraltimestobea ectionate(VI,30,2;II,5, r;XI,r8,r8),whileinBook I he notes the philosto ia ofhis teacher Sextus.
With regard to Marcus' remarks on tyranny as a corruption ofmonar­ chy which consists in pro ting om power r one's own pleasure: we possess no text by Fronto that might shed light on this allusion. It may have come om a conversation they had, or om a Latin literary text relative to this theme which Marcus had studied together with his teacher. At any rate, the Emperor retained the idea that the egotistical exercise ofpower leads to evil, inconstancy, and dissimulation. As R. B. Ruther rd has rightly pointed out,62 Marcus was particularly a ected by this idea because, as Emperor, he was the precisely the one who could easily become a tyrant. Marcus was a "potential tyrant," and on several occasions the Meditations ask him to question himself in order to see whether he does not have a tyrannical soul. This is particularly the case in IV, 28, which may be understood as a kind ofdescription ofthe tyranni­ cal character:
A dark character: e eminate, harsh, savage, bestial, puerile, cow­ ardly, false, olish, mercenary, and tyrannical.
Elsewhere, such tyrants as Phalaris and Nero appear as yanked about by their disorde y tendencies, like wild, androgynous beasts (III, r 6) .
From his long miliarity with Fronto, then, Marcus either can o r will retain no more than two items of moral instruction. He evokes no virtue or character trait ofFronto's worthy ofbeing mentioned.
This means that Book I is not a collection of recollections in which
Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations 2 8 1
the Emperor causes those he has known to live againjust as they were. Rather, it is a kind ofprecise record ofthose who have played a role in his li . The very style ofthe book makes it resemble the inventory ofan inheritance, or an acknowledgement of debt. 63 At the beginning of each chapter, we rst have a kind of label: " From my grand ther Verus . . . , " "From my mother . . . ," "From Sextus . . . ," "From Fronto . . . " Then the qualities Marcus admires are enumerated, as are the teachings he has received and the exemplary actions performed. Grammatically, all this is expressed by neuter adjectives used substantively, or by an in nitive proposition; there are hardly any personally in ected verbs. Marcus does not say, "From my grand ther, I admired . . . ," or "I retained," or "I learned"; but rather "From my grand ther Verus: good character and lack of anger. " Thus, this balance-sheet concerns the virtues which Mar­ cus saw practiced, the advice he heard, speci c actions and signi cant examples which made an impression on him, and nally the bene ts which he received.
In the case of some of the gures Marcus evokes, their personality disappears completely behind the advice they have given to the Emperor. Marcus mentions no particular virtue in the case of his tutor, or of Diognetus, or of Rusticus, or of Fronto. This does not mean that they did not possess any moral qualities, but that it was not by means of such qualities that they in uenced Marcus. What "made" Marcus Aurelius were, r instance, the reprimands about his character addressed to him by Rusticus, or the ct that he communicated to him Epictetus' Dis­ courses.
In the case of some other gures, such as that of his mother, the Emperor evokes only those virtues which were obviously exemplary r him (I, 3):
From my mother: piety; a disposition to give generously; and a horror not only ofdoing evil, but even ofthinking about doing evil. In addition, ugality in my daily routine, r removed om the life-style ofthe rich.
The same holds true r Claudius Maximus, whose entire personality was exemplary r Marcus: self-mastery; peace of mind in adversity; gentleness and dignity; re ection in the carrying out of a project; har­ mony between words, actions, and moral conscience; the quality ofnot being surprised by anything, of aring nothing, and of remaining self-
identical; bene cence; indulgence; veracity; spontaneity in action; and the art ofjoking.
Finally, there are those of whom Marcus has remembered both the teachings and the virtues, such as Severus, who was bene cent, liberal, and ee-speaking, but who also caused Marcus to discover the entire philosophical tradition ofresistance to tyranny.
Through this catalogue of virtues and of teachings, an outline of Marcus' life itself is traced. Thus, thanks to his great-grand ther, he bene ted om instruction at home; thanks to his tutor, he learned not to get caught up in the partisan battles of ns of the Greens and the Whites- ctions of the circus games-and not to get excited about any particular group ofgladiators. Diognetus turned him away om tilities, superstitions, and playing with quails, and instilled in him a taste r a Spartan life-style. Rusticus showed him the need to correct his character: as he taught him philosophy, he also prevented Marcus om getting carried away by enthusiasm r writing theoretical or hortatory philo­ sophical tracts, and om lling into ostentatious asceticism. Rusticus made him give up rhetoric and poetry, and taught him simplicity ofstyle, particula y by the example of a letter he had written to Marcus' mother. He taught Marcus how to read philosophical texts, and, most important, passed on to him some notes taken at the classes ofEpictetus. More than any precise teachings, the Emperor retained the examples ofhow to live given him by his other philosophy teachers, Apollonius and Sextus.
From Alexander the grammarian, Marcus learned the art of repri­ manding people without annoying them, and of making them aware of their ults indirectly. By equenting Alexander " the Platonist, " his sec­ retary r Greek correspondence, the Emperor learned not to try to get out ofhis duties toward other people by claiming that one has no time to reply to letters. In the case ofMarcus' three friends Catulus, Severus, and Maximus, it was especially their virtues which were exemplary; but Marcus owed Severus the discovery of an entire political attitude: the monarchy's respect r the eedom ofits subjects. I shall return to this point.
Fina y, there was the encounter with Antoninus, who, in his entire behavior, revealed to the ture Emperor the features ofthe ideal ruler.
Chapter 1 7, which celebrates the bene ts which the gods have show­ ered upon him, gives Marcus the opportunity to go over the stages ofhis life once again. After the death of his ther, the young Marcus lived brie y in the house of his grand ther, Annius Verus. It seems that this was a time of temptations r Marcus, and he thanks the gods r
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Marcus Aurelius in His Meditations
not having been brought up r too long with my grand ther's concubine; r having been able to maintain the bloom of my youth; r not having reached manhood too soon, but having even gone past the time r that.
Then comes youth, the time of Marcus' adoption by the emperor Antoninus Pius, at the age of seventeen (in 1 3 8) . Once again, the main discovery which Marcus made then was that ofsimplicity (I, 17, 5):
to have been subject to a ruler who was to take away om me every trace of pride, and give me the idea that it was possible to live at court without any bodyguards, nor conspicuous dress, nor the lamps and statues which go along with it; nor in general with any of this kind of pomp; but that one may very well restrict oneself to a kind of life very close to that of a private citizen, without thereby becoming base or indi erent toward devoting oneselflike a sover­ eign to what must be done r the public good.
His adoption would give Marcus an adoptive brother, Lucius Verus (I, l 7, 6) ; and Marcus thanks the gods r having made him meet
such a brother, who, by his character, could awaken me to take care of mysel and who, at the same time, made me happy by his deference and his a ection.
Soon would come Marcus' marriage to Faustina (in 145), which Mar­ cus mentions rther on. At the moment, he thinks ofhis children, "who were neither ungi ed nor misshapen. "
This was also the time of his rhetorical studies with Pronto and Herodes Atticus, but Marcus makes no allusion to them in this chapter. Too much success in this eld would have taken him away om philoso­ phy, but here again the gods were watch l (I, 17, 8):
Not to have made too much progress in rhetoric, poetry, and the other occupations, by which I might have been caught up, if I had felt that I was making good progress in them.
In any case, Marcus has, thanks to the gods, done everything to repay his teachers (I, 17, 9):
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To have hurried to establish my teachers in the honori c positions which it seemed to me they wanted, and not to have le them in the mere hope that I would do it later, since they were still young.
Finally comes the main point: philosophy and its practice (I, 17, rn):
To have known Apollonius, Rusticus, and Maximus. To have had clear and equent representations ofthe "li according to nature," so that, inso r as it depends on the gods and on the communica­ tions, assistance, and inspirations which come om above, nothing now prevents me om living "according to nature"; but I am r om that point by my own ult, because I pay no attention to the reminders, or rather to the teachings, which come om the gods.
Thus, divine graces helped Marcus to practice philosophy, and also to resist the temptations ofluxuriousness and anger, as well as the tigue of the imperial life (I, 17, 12):
That my body has resisted such a life r so long.
This brief remark perhaps allows us to glimpse the hardships which Marcus endured while on the Danubian campaign.
Not to have touched Benedicta or Theodotus; and later on, when I did fall prey to erotic passions, that I was cured.
Marcus was not the impassive Stoic that many have imagined. There were, ofcourse, his youth l in tuations with Benedicta and Theodotus, about whom we know nothing; perhaps Marcus met them while living with his grand ther. But there were also more mature passions, om which he was able to be cured. We should recall, moreover, that a er the death of Faustina, Marcus took in a concubine, with whom he lived r the last three years ofhis life. 64
Although I often got angry with Rusticus, that I did not do any­ thing extreme, which I would later have regretted.
There were thus stormy relations between the disciple and his director of conscience; but Marcus does not say whether they were limited to the period ofhis youth and philosophical education, or whether they contin-
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ued a er he became Emperor, when Rusticus became a highly in uen­ tial counselor to Marcus.
It was also a blessing om the gods that his mother, who died young, was able to live with him r the last years of her li , at the court of Antoninus. Another was that he was always able to help the needy. It was another blessing r Marcus to have had such a wife, in the person ofthe Empress Faustina, "so sweet, so a ectionate, so lacking in arti ce. " Fi­ nally, it was a blessing that he was able to provide his children with a good education.
Marcus then evokes the remedies against spitting blood and dizziness, which were revealed to him in dreams.
Finally, Marcus returns to a theme he has already mentioned when speaking ofRusticus: not the least ofthe gods' blessings was the ct that he did not become interested in abstract philosophical discourse, either logical or concerning the study ofnature. Rather, we are to understand that Marcus learned, above all, to live in a philosophical way. " this," Marcus concludes, "requires the help ofthe gods and ofFortune. " In the last analysis, "all this" is the entire content of the Meditations: all those relatives, teachers, and iends who showered him with examples and advice; but also the divine inspirations which helped him in his physical and spiritual life. I have spoken earlier ofthe two viewpoints ofthe Stoic conception ofprovidence, and I have said that these two viewpoints-a general law of the universe, indi erent to individual beings, and a par­ ticular action on the part of the gods, which takes care of individuals­ were not mutually exclusive. Book I can obviously be classi ed under the second perspective: that ofparticular providence. In this book, Mar­ cus sees his entire life in the peace l light ofthe gods' solicitude r him.
The reader may be surprised that the author of the Meditations, reign­ ing over an immense empire, overwhelmed with worries, but also used to elevating himself to grandiose visions which embraced the immensity of space and time, would thank the gods r things which may seem mundane or even trivial, such as the ct that he did not make progress in rhetoric. Other subjects r thanks do not rise above the level of the aspirations of an ordinary man: to raise his children well; to be in good health; to have good parents and a loving wife.
Perhaps we are touching here upon a particular aspect of Marcus' psychology. Thanks to his study of Epictetus and the Stoics, Marcus is quite capable ofmeditating, in a remarkable style, upon highly elevated themes. From his mother, however, as well as om Rusticus and Anton­ inus, he learned to live at court the life of an ordinary man; r instance,
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as we know om his correspondence with Fronto, he helped the rm workers with the grape harvest. We do not nd in Marcus an aristocratic or rhetorical search r "great elings" or geopolitical perspectives; in­ stead, we nd a highly characteristic attention paid to the realities ofdaily li . This was, moreover, also the lesson taught by Epictetus. In order to show that you are a human being, the latter used to say, "eat like a human being; drink like a human being; get married; have children" (III, 21, 4-6). In Marcus' case, we may add to the equation a certain candor, naivete, and simplicity, which made him search, in the pitiless world of the Roman aristocracy, r tenderness, a ection, and warmth offeelings, and the authenticity ofsimple human relations.
In the remaining books of the Meditations, we nd only a very small number of autobiographical references. There are a w allusions to Marcus' name and his position as Emperor, and to his adoptive ther, Antoninus Pius, of whom Marcus traces a brief portrait (VI, 30) which seems to be a sketch r the one that can now be read in Book I. There are also a few words on Marcus' old age (II, 2, 4; II, 6); on his di culty in getting up in the morning (V, l; VIII, 12); and on the repugnance he els r life at court (VIII, 9) and r the games ofthe circus (VI, 46).
What is completely remarkable, both in Book I and throughout the Meditations, is Marcus' consciousness ofhis own fallibility65-to the point that his "Confessions" are also a kind ofconfession ofhis ults. This is an eminently Stoic attitude (Epictetus, II, ll, l):
The starting-point ofphilosophy is our consciousness ofour weak­ ness and our incapacity with regard to necessary things.
For Marcus, however, this attitude perhaps comes naturally. In the rst place, he admits that he has not really succeeded so r in living like a philosopher (VII, l); that his soul is not yet in the dispositions ofpeace and love in which it should be (X, l); that, despite reprieves and warn­ ings om the gods, it is his ult that he does not yet live "according to Nature," that is, according to Reason (I, 17, I I). What is more, he perceives within himselfa disposition to commit errors (I, 17, 2; XI, 18, 7); and ifhe does not com t a given error, it is only out offear and of what others will say. Basically, however, he is no di erent om those whom he criticizes (XI, 18, 7). He also admits that he can be wrong, and he accepts that his errors must be corrected (VI, 21; VIII, 16). He knows that he runs the risk of seeing de cts where there are in ct none (IX,
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38; XII, 16); and he willingly accepts assistance, like a lame soldier inca­ pable ofclimbing up a wall (VII, 7; VII, 5).
Marcus is, moreover, perfectly aware of the limits of his intelligence (V, 5, r):
They can hardly admire your quickness ofmind. So be it! But there are many other things about which you cannot say, "I am not gifted. " Show us, then, these things that depend entirely on you: being without duplicity, being serious . . . being ee . . .
To be sure, we do not nd in Marcus the ndness r self-accusation which we nd in Augustine, who is persuaded a p o of the corruption of human nature. It does seem, however, that Marcus was gifted by nature with an acute self-consciousness, and a considerable capacity r self-criticism; or rather with the ability ofexamining himselfwith objec­ tivity, in which he recognized his ults, but also his qualities. The l­ lowing briefremark is noteworthy (VIII, 42):
I don't deserve to be ashamed ofmyself, r I have never voluntarily harmed anyone.