No More Learning

So that we
may say, that whatsoever is, is but as it were the seed of that which
shall be. For if thou think that that only is seed, which either the
earth or the womb receiveth, thou art very simple.

XXX. Thou art now ready to die, and yet hast thou not attained to
that perfect simplicity: thou art yet subject to many troubles and
perturbations; not yet free from all fear and suspicion of external
accidents; nor yet either so meekly disposed towards all men, as thou
shouldest; or so affected as one, whose only study and only wisdom is,
to be just in all his actions.

XXXI. Behold and observe, what is the state of their rational part; and
those that the world doth account wise, see what things they fly and are
afraid of; and what things they hunt after.

XXXII. In another man's mind and understanding thy evil Cannot subsist,
nor in any proper temper or distemper of the natural constitution of thy
body, which is but as it were the coat or cottage of thy soul. Wherein
then, but in that part of thee, wherein the conceit, and apprehension
of any misery can subsist? Let not that part therefore admit any such
conceit, and then all is well. Though thy body which is so near it
should either be cut or burnt, or suffer any corruption or putrefaction,
yet let that part to which it belongs to judge of these, be still at
rest; that is, let her judge this, that whatsoever it is, that equally
may happen to a wicked man, and to a good man, is neither good nor evil.
For that which happens equally to him that lives according to nature,
and to him that doth not, is neither according to nature, nor against
it; and by consequent, neither good nor bad.

XXXIII. Ever consider and think upon the world as being but one living
substance, and having but one soul, and how all things in the world, are
terminated into one sensitive power; and are done by one general motion
as it were, and deliberation of that one soul; and how all things that
are, concur in the cause of one another's being, and by what manner of
connection and concatenation all things happen.

XXXIV. What art thou, that better and divine part excepted, but as
Epictetus said well, a wretched soul, appointed to carry a carcass up
and down?

XXXV. To suffer change can be no hurt; as no benefit it is, by change to
attain to being. The age and time of the world is as it were a flood and
swift current, consisting of the things that are brought to pass in
the world. For as soon as anything hath appeared, and is passed away,
another succeeds, and that also will presently out of sight.

XXXVI. Whatsoever doth happen in the world, is, in the course of nature,
as usual and ordinary as a rose in the spring, and fruit in summer. Of
the same nature is sickness and death; slander, and lying in wait, and
whatsoever else ordinarily doth unto fools use to be occasion either
of joy or sorrow. That, whatsoever it is, that comes after, doth always
very naturally, and as it were familiarly, follow upon that which was
before. For thou must consider the things of the world, not as a loose
independent number, consisting merely of necessary events; but as a
discreet connection of things orderly and harmoniously disposed. There
is then to be seen in the things of the world, not a bare succession,
but an admirable correspondence and affinity.

XXXVII. Let that of Heraclitus never be out of thy mind, that the death
of earth, is water, and the death of water, is air; and the death of
air, is fire; and so on the contrary. Remember him also who was ignorant
whither the way did lead, and how that reason being the thing by which
all things in the world are administered, and which men are continually
and most inwardly conversant with: yet is the thing, which ordinarily
they are most in opposition with, and how those things which daily
happen among them, cease not daily to be strange unto them, and that
we should not either speak, or do anything as men in their sleep, by
opinion and bare imagination: for then we think we speak and do, and
that we must not be as children, who follow their father's example;
for best reason alleging their bare successive tradition from our
forefathers we have received it.

XXXVIII. Even as if any of the gods should tell thee, Thou shalt
certainly die to-morrow, or next day, thou wouldst not, except thou wert
extremely base and pusillanimous, take it for a great benefit, rather
to die the next day after, than to-morrow; (for alas, what is the
difference! ) so, for the same reason, think it no great matter to die
rather many years after, than the very next day.

XXXIX. Let it be thy perpetual meditation, how many physicians who
once looked so grim, and so theatrically shrunk their brows upon their
patients, are dead and gone themselves. How many astrologers, after that
in great ostentation they had foretold the death of some others, how
many philosophers after so many elaborate tracts and volumes concerning
either mortality or immortality; how many brave captains and commanders,
after the death and slaughter of so many; how many kings and tyrants,
after they had with such horror and insolency abused their power upon
men's lives, as though themselves had been immortal; how many, that
I may so speak, whole cities both men and towns: Helice, Pompeii,
Herculaneum, and others innumerable are dead and gone. Run them over
also, whom thou thyself, one after another, hast known in thy time
to drop away. Such and such a one took care of such and such a one's
burial, and soon after was buried himself. So one, so another: and all
things in a short time. For herein lieth all indeed, ever to look upon
all worldly things, as things for their continuance, that are but for a
day: and for their worth, most vile, and contemptible, as for example,
What is man? That which but the other day when he was conceived was vile
snivel; and within few days shall be either an embalmed carcass, or mere
ashes. Thus must thou according to truth and nature, throughly consider
how man's life is but for a very moment of time, and so depart meek and
contented: even as if a ripe olive falling should praise the ground that
bare her, and give thanks to the tree that begat her.

XL. Thou must be like a promontory of the sea, against which though
the waves beat continually, yet it both itself stands, and about it are
those swelling waves stilled and quieted.

XLI. Oh, wretched I, to whom this mischance is happened! nay, happy I,
to whom this thing being happened, I can continue without grief; neither
wounded by that which is present, nor in fear of that which is to come.
For as for this, it might have happened unto any man, but any man having
such a thing befallen him, could not have continued without grief. Why
then should that rather be an unhappiness, than this a happiness? But
however, canst thou, O man! term that unhappiness, which is no mischance
to the nature of man I Canst thou think that a mischance to the nature
of man, which is not contrary to the end and will of his nature? What
then hast thou learned is the will of man's nature? Doth that then which
hath happened unto thee, hinder thee from being just? or magnanimous? or
temperate? or wise? or circumspect? or true? or modest? or free? or from
anything else of all those things in the present enjoying and possession
whereof the nature of man, (as then enjoying all that is proper unto
her,) is fully satisfied? Now to conclude; upon all occasion of sorrow
remember henceforth to make use of this dogma, that whatsoever it is
that hath happened unto thee, is in very deed no such thing of itself,
as a misfortune; but that to bear it generously, is certainly great
happiness.

XLII. It is but an ordinary coarse one, yet it is a good effectual
remedy against the fear of death, for a man to consider in his mind the
examples of such, who greedily and covetously (as it were) did for a
long time enjoy their lives. What have they got more, than they whose
deaths have been untimely? Are not they themselves dead at the last?
as Cadiciant's, Fabius, Julianus Lepidus, or any other who in their
lifetime having buried many, were at the last buried themselves. The
whole space of any man's life, is but little; and as little as it is,
with what troubles, with what manner of dispositions, and in the society
of how wretched a body must it be passed! Let it be therefore unto thee
altogether as a matter of indifferency. For if thou shalt look backward;
behold, what an infinite chaos of time doth present itself unto thee;
and as infinite a chaos, if thou shalt look forward. In that which is
so infinite, what difference can there be between that which liveth but
three days, and that which liveth three ages?

XLIII. Let thy course ever be the most compendious way. The most
compendious, is that which is according to nature: that is, in all both
words and deeds, ever to follow that which is most sound and perfect.
For such a resolution will free a man from all trouble, strife,
dissembling, and ostentation.




THE FIFTH BOOK

I. In the morning when thou findest thyself unwilling to rise, consider
with thyself presently, it is to go about a man's work that I am stirred
up. Am I then yet unwilling to go about that, for which I myself was
born and brought forth into this world? Or was I made for this, to
lay me down, and make much of myself in a warm bed? 'O but this is
pleasing. ' And was it then for this that thou wert born, that thou
mightest enjoy pleasure? Was it not in very truth for this, that thou
mightest always be busy and in action? Seest thou not how all things
in the world besides, how every tree md plant, how sparrows and ants,
spiders and bees: how all in their kind are intent as it were orderly to
perform whatsoever (towards the preservation of this orderly universe)
naturally doth become and belong unto thin? And wilt not thou do that,
which belongs unto a man to do? Wilt not thou run to do that, which thy
nature doth require? 'But thou must have some rest. ' Yes, thou must.
Nature hath of that also, as well as of eating and drinking, allowed
thee a certain stint. But thou guest beyond thy stint, and beyond that
which would suffice, and in matter of action, there thou comest short of
that which thou mayest. It must needs be therefore, that thou dost not
love thyself, for if thou didst, thou wouldst also love thy nature, and
that which thy nature doth propose unto herself as her end. Others,
as many as take pleasure in their trade and profession, can even pine
themselves at their works, and neglect their bodies and their food for
it; and doest thou less honour thy nature, than an ordinary mechanic
his trade; or a good dancer his art? than a covetous man his silver, and
vainglorious man applause? These to whatsoever they take an affection,
can be content to want their meat and sleep, to further that every one
which he affects: and shall actions tending to the common good of
human society, seem more vile unto thee, or worthy of less respect and
intention?

II. How easy a thing is it for a man to put off from him all turbulent
adventitious imaginations, and presently to be in perfect rest and
tranquillity!

III. Think thyself fit and worthy to speak, or to do anything that is
according to nature, and let not the reproach, or report of some that
may ensue upon it, ever deter thee. If it be right and honest to be
spoken or done, undervalue not thyself so much, as to be discouraged
from it. As for them, they have their own rational over-ruling part, and
their own proper inclination: which thou must not stand and look
about to take notice of, but go on straight, whither both thine own
particular, and the common nature do lead thee; and the way of both
these, is but one.

IV. I continue my course by actions according to nature, until I
fall and cease, breathing out my last breath into that air, by which
continually breathed in I did live; and falling upon that earth, out of
whose gifts and fruits my father gathered his seed, my mother her
blood, and my nurse her milk, out of which for so many years I have
been provided, both of meat and drink. And lastly, which beareth me that
tread upon it, and beareth with me that so many ways do abuse it, or
so freely make use of it, so many ways to so many ends.

V. No man can admire thee for thy sharp acute language, such is thy
natural disability that way. Be it so: yet there be many other good
things, for the want of which thou canst not plead the want or natural
ability. Let them be seen in thee, which depend wholly from thee;
sincerity, gravity, laboriousness, contempt of pleasures; be not
querulous, be Content with little, be kind, be free; avoid all
superfluity, all vain prattling; be magnanimous. Doest not thou
perceive, how many things there be, which notwithstanding any pretence
of natural indisposition and unfitness, thou mightest have performed and
exhibited, and yet still thou doest voluntarily continue drooping
downwards? Or wilt thou say that it is through defect of thy natural
constitution, that thou art constrained to murmur, to be base and
wretched to flatter; now to accuse, and now to please, and pacify thy
body: to be vainglorious, to be so giddy-headed. , and unsettled in thy
thoughts? nay (witnesses be the Gods) of all these thou mightest have
been rid long ago: only, this thou must have been contented with, to
have borne the blame of one that is somewhat slow and dull, wherein thou
must so exercise thyself, as one who neither doth much take to heart
this his natural defect, nor yet pleaseth himself in it.

VI. Such there be, who when they have done a good turn to any, are ready
to set them on the score for it, and to require retaliation. Others
there be, who though they stand not upon retaliation, to require any,
yet they think with themselves nevertheless, that such a one is their
debtor, and they know as their word is what they have done. Others again
there be, who when they have done any such thing, do not so much as
know what they have done; but are like unto the vine, which beareth her
grapes, and when once she hath borne her own proper fruit, is contented
and seeks for no further recompense. As a horse after a race, and a
hunting dog when he hath hunted, and a bee when she hath made her honey,
look not for applause and commendation; so neither doth that man that
rightly doth understand his own nature when he hath done a good turn:
but from one doth proceed to do another, even as the vine after she hath
once borne fruit in her own proper season, is ready for another time.
Thou therefore must be one of them, who what they do, barely do it
without any further thought, and are in a manner insensible of what they
do. 'Nay but,' will some reply perchance, 'this very thing a rational
man is bound unto, to understand what it is, that he doeth. ' For it
is the property, say they, of one that is naturally sociable, to be
sensible, that he doth operate sociably: nay, and to desire, that the
party him self that is sociably dealt with, should be sensible of it
too. I answer, That which thou sayest is true indeed, but the true
meaning of that which is said, thou dost not understand. And therefore
art thou one of those first, whom I mentioned. For they also are led by
a probable appearance of reason. But if thou dost desire to understand
truly what it is that is said, fear not that thou shalt therefore give
over any sociable action.

VII. The form of the Athenians' prayer did run thus: 'O rain, rain, good
Jupiter, upon all the grounds and fields that belong to the Athenians. '
Either we should not pray at all, or thus absolutely and freely; and not
every one for himself in particular alone.

VIII. As we say commonly, The physician hath prescribed unto this man,
riding; unto another, cold baths; unto a third, to go barefoot: so it is
alike to say, The nature of the universe hath prescribed unto this man
sickness, or blindness, or some loss, or damage or some such thing. For
as there, when we say of a physician, that he hath prescribed anything,
our meaning is, that he hath appointed this for that, as subordinate
and conducing to health: so here, whatsoever doth happen unto any, is
ordained unto him as a thing subordinate unto the fates, and therefore
do we say of such things, that they do happen, or fall together; as of
square stones, when either in walls, or pyramids in a certain position
they fit one another, and agree as it were in an harmony, the masons
say, that they do (sumbainein) as if thou shouldest say, fall together:
so that in the general, though the things be divers that make it, yet
the consent or harmony itself is but one. And as the whole world is made
up of all the particular bodies of the world, one perfect and complete
body, of the same nature that particular bodies; so is the destiny of
particular causes and events one general one, of the same nature that
particular causes are. What I now say, even they that are mere idiots
are not ignorant of: for they say commonly (touto eferen autw) that is,
This his destiny hath brought upon him. This therefore is by the fates
properly and particularly brought upon this, as that unto this in
particular is by the physician prescribed. These therefore let us
accept of in like manner, as we do those that are prescribed unto us our
physicians. For them also in themselves shall We find to contain many
harsh things, but we nevertheless, in hope of health, and recovery,
accept of them. Let the fulfilling and accomplishment of those things
which the common nature hath determined, be unto thee as thy health.
Accept then, and be pleased with whatsoever doth happen, though
otherwise harsh and un-pleasing, as tending to that end, to the health
and welfare of the universe, and to Jove's happiness and prosperity.
For this whatsoever it be, should not have been produced, had it not
conduced to the good of the universe. For neither doth any ordinary
particular nature bring anything to pass, that is not to whatsoever
is within the sphere of its own proper administration and government
agreeable and subordinate. For these two considerations then thou must
be well pleased with anything that doth happen unto thee. First, because
that for thee properly it was brought to pass, and unto thee it
was prescribed; and that from the very beginning by the series and
connection of the first causes, it hath ever had a reference unto thee.
And secondly, because the good success and perfect welfare, and indeed
the very continuance of Him, that is the Administrator of the whole,
doth in a manner depend on it. For the whole (because whole, therefore
entire and perfect) is maimed, and mutilated, if thou shalt cut off
anything at all, whereby the coherence, and contiguity as of parts, so
of causes, is maintained and preserved. Of which certain it is,
that thou doest (as much as lieth in thee) cut off, and in some sort
violently take somewhat away, as often as thou art displeased with
anything that happeneth.

IX. Be not discontented, be not disheartened, be not out of hope, if
often it succeed not so well with thee punctually and precisely to do
all things according to the right dogmata, but being once cast off,
return unto them again: and as for those many and more frequent
occurrences, either of worldly distractions, or human infirmities, which
as a man thou canst not but in some measure be subject unto, be not thou
discontented with them; but however, love and affect that only which
thou dust return unto: a philosopher's life, and proper occupation after
the most exact manner. And when thou dust return to thy philosophy,
return not unto it as the manner of some is, after play and liberty as
it were, to their schoolmasters and pedagogues; but as they that have
sore eyes to their sponge and egg: or as another to his cataplasm; or
as others to their fomentations: so shalt not thou make it a matter of
ostentation at all to obey reason but of ease and comfort. And
remember that philosophy requireth nothing of thee, but what thy
nature requireth, and wouldest thou thyself desire anything that is
not according to nature? for which of these sayest thou; that which is
according to nature or against it, is of itself more kind and pleasing?
Is it not for that respect especially, that pleasure itself is to so
many men's hurt and overthrow, most prevalent, because esteemed commonly
most kind, and natural? But consider well whether magnanimity rather,
and true liberty, and true simplicity, and equanimity, and holiness;
whether these be not most kind and natural? And prudency itself, what
more kind and amiable than it, when thou shalt truly consider with
thyself, what it is through all the proper objects of thy rational
intellectual faculty currently to go on without any fall or stumble?
As for the things of the world, their true nature is in a manner so
involved with obscurity, that unto many philosophers, and those no
mean ones, they seemed altogether incomprehensible, and the Stoics
themselves, though they judge them not altogether incomprehensible,
yet scarce and not without much difficulty, comprehensible, so that
all assent of ours is fallible, for who is he that is infallible in his
conclusions? From the nature of things, pass now unto their subjects
and matter: how temporary, how vile are they I such as may be in the
power and possession of some abominable loose liver, of some common
strumpet, of some notorious oppressor and extortioner. Pass from thence
to the dispositions of them that thou doest ordinarily converse with,
how hardly do we bear, even with the most loving and amiable! that I may
not say, how hard it is for us to bear even with our own selves, in such
obscurity, and impurity of things: in such and so continual a flux both
of the substances and time; both of the motions themselves, and things
moved; what it is that we can fasten upon; either to honour, and respect
especially; or seriously, and studiously to seek after; I cannot so much
as conceive For indeed they are things contrary.

X. Thou must comfort thyself in the expectation of thy natural
dissolution, and in the meantime not grieve at the delay; but rest
contented in those two things. First, that nothing shall happen unto
thee, which is not according to the nature of the universe. Secondly,
that it is in thy power, to do nothing against thine own proper God, and
inward spirit. For it is not in any man's power to constrain thee to
transgress against him.

XI. What is the use that now at this present I make of my soul? Thus
from time to time and upon all occasions thou must put this question to
thyself; what is now that part of mine which they call the rational
mistress part, employed about? Whose soul do I now properly possess? a
child's? or a youth's? a woman's? or a tyrant's? some brute, or some
wild beast's soul?

XII. What those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are
esteemed good, thou mayest gather even from this. For if a man shall
hear things mentioned as good, which are really good indeed, such as are
prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude, after so much heard and
conceived, he cannot endure to hear of any more, for the word good is
properly spoken of them. But as for those which by the vulgar are
esteemed good, if he shall hear them mentioned as good, he doth hearken
for more. He is well contented to hear, that what is spoken by the
comedian, is but familiarly and popularly spoken, so that even the
vulgar apprehend the difference. For why is it else, that this offends
not and needs not to be excused, when virtues are styled good: but that
which is spoken in commendation of wealth, pleasure, or honour, we
entertain it only as merrily and pleasantly spoken? Proceed therefore,
and inquire further, whether it may not be that those things also which
being mentioned upon the stage were merrily, and with great applause of
the multitude, scoffed at with this jest, that they that possessed them
had not in all the world of their own, (such was their affluence and
plenty) so much as a place where to avoid their excrements. Whether, I
say, those ought not also in very deed to be much respected, and
esteemed of, as the only things that are truly good.

XIII. All that I consist of, is either form or matter. No corruption can
reduce either of these unto nothing: for neither did I of nothing become
a subsistent creature. Every part of mine then will by mutation be
disposed into a certain part of the whole world, and that in time into
another part; and so in infinitum; by which kind of mutation, I also
became what I am, and so did they that begot me, and they before them,
and so upwards in infinitum. For so we may be allowed to speak, though
the age and government of the world, be to some certain periods of time
limited, and confined.

XIV. Reason, and rational power, are faculties which content themselves
with themselves, and their own proper operations. And as for their first
inclination and motion, that they take from themselves. But their
progress is right to the end and object, which is in their way, as it
were, and lieth just before them: that is, which is feasible and
possible, whether it be that which at the first they proposed to
themselves, or no. For which reason also such actions are termed
katorqwseiz to intimate the directness of the way, by which they are
achieved. Nothing must be thought to belong to a man, which doth not
belong unto him as he is a man. These, the event of purposes, are not
things required in a man. The nature of man doth not profess any such
things. The final ends and consummations of actions are nothing at all
to a man's nature. The end therefore of a man, or the summum bonum
whereby that end is fulfilled, cannot consist in the consummation of
actions purposed and intended. Again, concerning these outward worldly
things, were it so that any of them did properly belong unto man, then
would it not belong unto man, to condemn them and to stand in opposition
with them. Neither would he be praiseworthy that can live without them;
or he good, (if these were good indeed) who of his own accord doth
deprive himself of any of them. But we see contrariwise, that the more a
man doth withdraw himself from these wherein external pomp and greatness
doth consist, or any other like these; or the better he doth bear with
the loss of these, the better he is accounted.

XV. Such as thy thoughts and ordinary cogitations are, such will thy
mind be in time. For the soul doth as it were receive its tincture from
the fancies, and imaginations. Dye it therefore and thoroughly soak it
with the assiduity of these cogitations. As for example. Wheresoever
thou mayest live, there it is in thy power to live well and happy. But
thou mayest live at the Court, there then also mayest thou live well and
happy.
Again, that which everything is made for, he is also made unto
that, and cannot but naturally incline unto it. That which anything
doth naturally incline unto, therein is his end. Wherein the end of
everything doth consist, therein also doth his good and benefit consist.
Society therefore is the proper good of a rational creature. For that we
are made for society, it hath long since been demonstrated. Or can any
man make any question of this, that whatsoever is naturally worse and
inferior, is ordinarily subordinated to that which is better? and that
those things that are best, are made one for another? And those things
that have souls, are better than those that have none? and of those that
have, those best that have rational souls?

XVI. To desire things impossible is the part of a mad man. But it is a
thing impossible, that wicked man should not commit some such things.
Neither doth anything happen to any man, which in the ordinary course
of nature as natural unto him doth not happen. Again, the same things
happen unto others also. And truly, if either he that is ignorant that
such a thing hath happened unto him, or he that is ambitious to be
commended for his magnanimity, can be patient, and is not grieved: is it
not a grievous thing, that either ignorance, or a vain desire to please
and to be commended, should be more powerful and effectual than true
prudence? As for the things themselves, they touch not the soul, neither
can they have any access unto it: neither can they of themselves any
ways either affect it, or move it. For she herself alone can affect and
move herself, and according as the dogmata and opinions are, which she
doth vouchsafe herself; so are those things which, as accessories, have
any co-existence with her.

XVII. After one consideration, man is nearest unto us; as we are bound
to do them good, and to bear with them. But as he may oppose any of our
true proper actions, so man is unto me but as a thing indifferent: even
as the sun, or the wind, or some wild beast. By some of these it may be,
that some operation or other of mine, may be hindered; however, of my
mind and resolution itself, there can be no let or impediment, by reason
of that ordinary constant both exception (or reservation wherewith it
inclineth) and ready conversion of objects; from that which may not be,
to that which may be, which in the prosecution of its inclinations, as
occasion serves, it doth observe. For by these the mind doth turn and
convert any impediment whatsoever, to be her aim and purpose. So that
what before was the impediment, is now the principal object of her
working; and that which before was in her way, is now her readiest way.

XVIII. Honour that which is chiefest and most powerful in the world, and
that is it, which makes use of all things, and governs all things. So
also in thyself; honour that which is chiefest, and most powerful; and
is of one kind and nature with that which we now spake of. For it is the
very same, which being in thee, turneth all other things to its own use,
and by whom also thy life is governed.

XIX. That which doth not hurt the city itself; cannot hurt any citizen.
This rule thou must remember to apply and make use of upon every conceit
and apprehension of wrong. If the whole city be not hurt by this,
neither am I certainly. And if the whole be not, why should I make it
my private grievance? consider rather what it is wherein he is overseen
that is thought to have done the wrong. Again, often meditate how
swiftly all things that subsist, and all things that are done in the
world, are carried away, and as it were conveyed out of sight: for both
the substance themselves, we see as a flood, are in a continual flux;
and all actions in a perpetual change; and the causes themselves,
subject to a thousand alterations, neither is there anything almost,
that may ever be said to be now settled and constant. Next unto this,
and which follows upon it, consider both the infiniteness of the time
already past, and the immense vastness of that which is to come, wherein
all things are to be resolved and annihilated. Art not thou then a
very fool, who for these things, art either puffed up with pride, or
distracted with cares, or canst find in thy heart to make such moans as
for a thing that would trouble thee for a very long time? Consider the
whole universe whereof thou art but a very little part, and the whole
age of the world together, whereof but a short and very momentary
portion is allotted unto thee, and all the fates and destinies together,
of which how much is it that comes to thy part and share! Again: another
doth trespass against me. Let him look to that. He is master of his own
disposition, and of his own operation. I for my part am in the meantime
in possession of as much, as the common nature would have me to possess:
and that which mine own nature would have me do, I do.

XX. Let not that chief commanding part of thy soul be ever subject to
any variation through any corporal either pain or pleasure, neither
suffer it to be mixed with these, but let it both circumscribe itself,
and confine those affections to their own proper parts and members.
But if at any time they do reflect and rebound upon the mind and
understanding (as in an united and compacted body it must needs;) then
must thou not go about to resist sense and feeling, it being natural.
However let not thy understanding to this natural sense and feeling,
which whether unto our flesh pleasant or painful, is unto us nothing
properly, add an opinion of either good or bad and all is well.

XXI. To live with the Gods. He liveth with the Gods, who at all times
affords unto them the spectacle of a soul, both contented and well
pleased with whatsoever is afforded, or allotted unto her; and
performing whatsoever is pleasing to that Spirit, whom (being part of
himself) Jove hath appointed to every man as his overseer and governor.

XXII. Be not angry neither with him whose breath, neither with him whose
arm holes, are offensive. What can he do? such is his breath naturally,
and such are his arm holes; and from such, such an effect, and such
a smell must of necessity proceed. 'O, but the man (sayest thou) hath
understanding in him, and might of himself know, that he by standing
near, cannot choose but offend. ' And thou also (God bless thee! ) hast
understanding. Let thy reasonable faculty, work upon his reasonable
faculty; show him his fault, admonish him. If he hearken unto thee, thou
hast cured him, and there will be no more occasion of anger.

XXIII. 'Where there shall neither roarer be, nor harlot. ' Why so? As
thou dost purpose to live, when thou hast retired thyself to some such
place, where neither roarer nor harlot is: so mayest thou here. And if
they will not suffer thee, then mayest thou leave thy life rather than
thy calling, but so as one that doth not think himself anyways wronged.
Only as one would say, Here is a smoke; I will out of it. And what a
great matter is this! Now till some such thing force me out, I will
continue free; neither shall any man hinder me to do what I will, and
my will shall ever be by the proper nature of a reasonable and sociable
creature, regulated and directed.

XXIV. That rational essence by which the universe is governed, is for
community and society; and therefore hath it both made the things that
are worse, for the best, and hath allied and knit together those
which are best, as it were in an harmony. Seest thou not how it hath
sub-ordinated, and co-ordinated? and how it hath distributed unto
everything according to its worth? and those which have the pre-eminency
and superiority above all, hath it united together, into a mutual
consent and agreement.

XXV. How hast thou carried thyself hitherto towards the Gods? towards
thy parents? towards thy brethren? towards thy wife? towards thy
children? towards thy masters? thy foster-fathers? thy friends? thy
domestics? thy servants? Is it so with thee, that hitherto thou hast
neither by word or deed wronged any of them? Remember withal through how
many things thou hast already passed, and how many thou hast been able
to endure; so that now the legend of thy life is full, and thy charge is
accomplished. Again, how many truly good things have certainly by thee
been discerned? how many pleasures, how many pains hast thou passed over
with contempt? how many things eternally glorious hast thou despised?
towards how many perverse unreasonable men hast thou carried thyself
kindly, and discreetly?

XXVI. Why should imprudent unlearned souls trouble that which is
both learned, and prudent? And which is that that is so? she that
understandeth the beginning and the end, and hath the true knowledge of
that rational essence, that passeth through all things subsisting, and
through all ages being ever the same, disposing and dispensing as it
were this universe by certain periods of time.

XXVII. Within a very little while, thou wilt be either ashes, or a
sceletum; and a name perchance; and perchance, not so much as a name.
And what is that but an empty sound, and a rebounding echo? Those things
which in this life are dearest unto us, and of most account, they are in
themselves but vain, putrid, contemptible. The most weighty and serious,
if rightly esteemed, but as puppies, biting one another: or untoward
children, now laughing and then crying. As for faith, and modesty, and
justice, and truth, they long since, as one of the poets hath it, have
abandoned this spacious earth, and retired themselves unto heaven. What
is it then that doth keep thee here, if things sensible be so mutable
and unsettled? and the senses so obscure, and so fallible? and our souls
nothing but an exhalation of blood? and to be in credit among such,
be but vanity? What is it that thou dost stay for? an extinction, or a
translation; either of them with a propitious and contented mind. But
still that time come, what will content thee? what else, but to worship
and praise the Gods; and to do good unto men. To bear with them, and
to forbear to do them any wrong. And for all external things belonging
either to this thy wretched body, or life, to remember that they are
neither thine, nor in thy power.

XXVIII. Thou mayest always speed, if thou wilt but make choice of the
right way; if in the course both of thine opinions and actions, thou
wilt observe a true method. These two things be common to the souls, as
of God, so of men, and of every reasonable creature, first that in their
own proper work they cannot be hindered by anything: and secondly, that
their happiness doth consist in a disposition to, and in the practice of
righteousness; and that in these their desire is terminated.

XXIX. If this neither be my wicked act, nor an act anyways depending
from any wickedness of mine, and that by it the public is not hurt; what
doth it concern me? And wherein can the public be hurt? For thou must
not altogether be carried by conceit and common opinion: as for help
thou must afford that unto them after thy best ability, and as occasion
shall require, though they sustain damage, but in these middle or
worldly things; but however do not thou conceive that they are truly
hurt thereby: for that is not right. But as that old foster-father
in the comedy, being now to take his leave doth with a great deal of
ceremony, require his foster-child's rhombus, or rattle-top, remembering
nevertheless that it is but a rhombus; so here also do thou likewise.
For indeed what is all this pleading and public bawling for at the
courts? O man, hast thou forgotten what those things are! yea but they
are things that others much care for, and highly esteem of. Wilt thou
therefore be a fool too? Once I was; let that suffice.

XXX. Let death surprise rue when it will, and where it will, I may be a
happy man, nevertheless.

For he is a happy man, who in his lifetime dealeth unto himself a happy
lot and portion. A happy lot and portion is, good inclinations of the
soul, good desires, good actions.




THE SIXTH BOOK

I. The matter itself, of which the universe doth consist, is of itself
very tractable and pliable. That rational essence that doth govern it,
hath in itself no cause to do evil. It hath no evil in itself; neither
can it do anything that is evil: neither can anything be hurt by it. And
all things are done and determined according to its will and prescript.

II. Be it all one unto thee, whether half frozen or well warm; whether
only slumbering, or after a full sleep; whether discommended or
commended thou do thy duty: or whether dying or doing somewhat else; for
that also 'to die,' must among the rest be reckoned as one of the duties
and actions of our lives.

III. Look in, let not either the proper quality, or the true worth of
anything pass thee, before thou hast fully apprehended it.

IV. All substances come soon to their change, and either they shall
be resolved by way of exhalation (if so be that all things shall be
reunited into one substance), or as others maintain, they shall be
scattered and dispersed. As for that Rational Essence by which all
things are governed, as it best understandeth itself, both its own
disposition, and what it doth, and what matter it hath to do with and
accordingly doth all things; so we that do not, no wonder, if we wonder
at many things, the reasons whereof we cannot comprehend.

V. The best kind of revenge is, not to become like unto them.

VI. Let this be thy only joy, and thy only comfort, from one sociable
kind action without intermission to pass unto another, God being ever in
thy mind.

VII. The rational commanding part, as it alone can stir up and turn
itself; so it maketh both itself to be, and everything that happeneth,
to appear unto itself, as it will itself.

VIII. According to the nature of the universe all things particular are
determined, not according to any other nature, either about compassing
and containing; or within, dispersed and contained; or without,
depending. Either this universe is a mere confused mass, and an
intricate context of things, which shall in time be scattered and
dispersed again: or it is an union consisting of order, and administered
by Providence. If the first, why should I desire to continue any longer
in this fortuit confusion and commixtion? or why should I take care for
anything else, but that as soon as may be I may be earth again? And
why should I trouble myself any more whilst I seek to please the Gods?
Whatsoever I do, dispersion is my end, and will come upon me whether I
will or no. But if the latter be, then am not I religious in vain;
then will I be quiet and patient, and put my trust in Him, who is the
Governor of all.

IX. Whensoever by some present hard occurrences thou art constrained to
be in some sort troubled and vexed, return unto thyself as soon as may
be, and be not out of tune longer than thou must needs. For so shalt
thou be the better able to keep thy part another time, and to maintain
the harmony, if thou dost use thyself to this continually; once out,
presently to have recourse unto it, and to begin again.

X. If it were that thou hadst at one time both a stepmother, and
a natural mother living, thou wouldst honour and respect her also;
nevertheless to thine own natural mother would thy refuge, and recourse
be continually. So let the court and thy philosophy be unto thee. Have
recourse unto it often, and comfort thyself in her, by whom it is that
those other things are made tolerable unto thee, and thou also in those
things not intolerable unto others.

XI. How marvellous useful it is for a man to represent unto himself
meats, and all such things that are for the mouth, under a right
apprehension and imagination! as for example: This is the carcass of a
fish; this of a bird; and this of a hog. And again more generally; This
phalernum, this excellent highly commended wine, is but the bare juice
of an ordinary grape. This purple robe, but sheep's hairs, dyed with
the blood of a shellfish. So for coitus, it is but the attrition of an
ordinary base entrail, and the excretion of a little vile snivel, with
a certain kind of convulsion: according to Hippocrates his opinion. How
excellent useful are these lively fancies and representations of things,
thus penetrating and passing through the objects, to make their true
nature known and apparent! This must thou use all thy life long, and
upon all occasions: and then especially, when matters are apprehended
as of great worth and respect, thy art and care must be to uncover
them, and to behold their vileness, and to take away from them all those
serious circumstances and expressions, under which they made so grave
a show. For outward pomp and appearance is a great juggler; and then
especially art thou most in danger to be beguiled by it, when (to
a man's thinking) thou most seemest to be employed about matters of
moment.

XII. See what Crates pronounceth concerning Xenocrates himself.

XIII. Those things which the common sort of people do admire, are most
of them such things as are very general, and may be comprehended under
things merely natural, or naturally affected and qualified: as stones,
wood, figs, vines, olives. Those that be admired by them that are more
moderate and restrained, are comprehended under things animated: as
flocks and herds. Those that are yet more gentle and curious, their
admiration is commonly confined to reasonable creatures only; not in
general as they are reasonable, but as they are capable of art, or of
some craft and subtile invention: or perchance barely to reasonable
creatures; as they that delight in the possession of many slaves. But
he that honours a reasonable soul in general, as it is reasonable and
naturally sociable, doth little regard anything else: and above all
things is careful to preserve his own, in the continual habit and
exercise both of reason and sociableness: and thereby doth co-operate
with him, of whose nature he doth also participate; God.

XIV. Some things hasten to be, and others to be no more. And even
whatsoever now is, some part thereof hath already perished. Perpetual
fluxes and alterations renew the world, as the perpetual course of time
doth make the age of the world (of itself infinite) to appear always
fresh and new. In such a flux and course of all things, what of these
things that hasten so fast away should any man regard, since among all
there is not any that a man may fasten and fix upon? as if a man would
settle his affection upon some ordinary sparrow living by him, who is no
sooner seen, than out of sight. For we must not think otherwise of our
lives, than as a mere exhalation of blood, or of an ordinary respiration
of air. For what in our common apprehension is, to breathe in the air
and to breathe it out again, which we do daily: so much is it and no
more, at once to breathe out all thy respirative faculty into that
common air from whence but lately (as being but from yesterday, and
to-day), thou didst first breathe it in, and with it, life.

XV. Not vegetative spiration, it is not surely (which plants have) that
in this life should be so dear unto us; nor sensitive respiration, the
proper life of beasts, both tame and wild; nor this our imaginative
faculty; nor that we are subject to be led and carried up and down by
the strength of our sensual appetites; or that we can gather, and live
together; or that we can feed: for that in effect is no better, than
that we can void the excrements of our food. What is it then that should
be dear unto us? to hear a clattering noise? if not that, then neither
to be applauded by the tongues of men. For the praises of many tongues,
is in effect no better than the clattering of so many tongues. If then
neither applause, what is there remaining that should be dear unto thee?
This I think: that in all thy motions and actions thou be moved,
and restrained according to thine own true natural constitution and
Construction only. And to this even ordinary arts and professions do
lead us. For it is that which every art doth aim at, that whatsoever it
is, that is by art effected and prepared, may be fit for that work that
it is prepared for. This is the end that he that dresseth the vine, and
he that takes upon him either to tame colts, or to train up dogs,
doth aim at. What else doth the education of children, and all learned
professions tend unto? Certainly then it is that, which should be dear
unto us also. If in this particular it go well with thee, care not for
the obtaining of other things. But is it so, that thou canst not but
respect other things also? Then canst not thou truly be free? then canst
thou not have self-content: then wilt thou ever be subject to passions.
For it is not possible, but that thou must be envious, and jealous, and
suspicious of them whom thou knowest can bereave thee of such things;
and again, a secret underminer of them, whom thou seest in present
possession of that which is dear unto thee. To be short, he must of
necessity be full of confusion within himself, and often accuse the
Gods, whosoever stands in need of these things. But if thou shalt
honour and respect thy mind only, that will make thee acceptable
towards thyself, towards thy friends very tractable; and conformable
and concordant with the Gods; that is, accepting with praises whatsoever
they shall think good to appoint and allot unto thee.