No More Learning

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.

XVI. Under, above, and about, are the motions of the elements; but
the motion of virtue, is none of those motions, but is somewhat more
excellent and divine. Whose way (to speed and prosper in it) must be
through a way, that is not easily comprehended.

XVII. Who can choose but wonder at them? They will not speak well of
them that are at the same time with them, and live with them; yet they
themselves are very ambitious, that they that shall follow, whom they
have never seen, nor shall ever see, should speak well of them. As if
a man should grieve that he hath not been commended by them, that lived
before him.

XVIII. Do not ever conceive anything impossible to man, which by thee
cannot, or not without much difficulty be effected; but whatsoever in
general thou canst Conceive possible and proper unto any man, think that
very possible unto thee also.

XIX. Suppose that at the palestra somebody hath all to-torn thee with
his nails, and hath broken thy head. Well, thou art wounded. Yet thou
dost not exclaim; thou art not offended with him. Thou dost not suspect
him for it afterwards, as one that watcheth to do thee a mischief. Yea
even then, though thou dost thy best to save thyself from him, yet not
from him as an enemy. It is not by way of any suspicious indignation,
but by way of gentle and friendly declination. Keep the same mind and
disposition in other parts of thy life also. For many things there be,
which we must conceit and apprehend, as though we had had to do with an
antagonist at the palestra. For as I said, it is very possible for us to
avoid and decline, though we neither suspect, nor hate.

XX. If anybody shall reprove me, and shall make it apparent unto me,
that in any either opinion or action of mine I do err, I will most
gladly retract. For it is the truth that I seek after, by which I am
sure that never any man was hurt; and as sure, that he is hurt that
continueth in any error, or ignorance whatsoever.

XXI. I for my part will do what belongs unto me; as for other things,
whether things unsensible or things irrational; or if rational, yet
deceived and ignorant of the true way, they shall not trouble or
distract me. For as for those creatures which are not endued with reason
and all other things and-matters of the world whatsoever I freely, and
generously, as one endued with reason, of things that have none, make
use of them. And as for men, towards them as naturally partakers of the
same reason, my care is to carry myself sociably. But whatsoever it is
that thou art about, remember to call upon the Gods. And as for the time
how long thou shalt live to do these things, let it be altogether
indifferent unto thee, for even three such hours are sufficient.

XXII. Alexander of Macedon, and he that dressed his mules, when once
dead both came to one. For either they were both resumed into those
original rational essences from whence all things in the world are
propagated; or both after one fashion were scattered into atoms.

XXIII Consider how many different things, whether they concern our
bodies, or our souls, in a moment of time come to pass in every one of
us, and so thou wilt not wonder if many more things or rather all things
that are done, can at one time subsist, and coexist in that both one and
general, which we call the world.

XXIV. if any should put this question unto thee, how this word Antoninus
is written, wouldst thou not presently fix thine intention upon it, and
utter out in order every letter of it? And if any shall begin to gainsay
thee, and quarrel with thee about it; wilt thou quarrel with him again,
or rather go on meekly as thou hast begun, until thou hast numbered out
every letter? Here then likewise remember, that every duty that belongs
unto a man doth consist of some certain letters or numbers as it were,
to which without any noise or tumult keeping thyself thou must orderly
proceed to thy proposed end, forbearing to quarrel with him that would
quarrel and fall out with thee.

XXV. Is it not a cruel thing to forbid men to affect those things, which
they conceive to agree best with their own natures, and to tend most
to their own proper good and behoof? But thou after a sort deniest them
this liberty, as often as thou art angry with them for their sins. For
surely they are led unto those sins whatsoever they be, as to
their proper good and commodity. But it is not so (thou wilt object
perchance). Thou therefore teach them better, and make it appear unto
them: but be not thou angry with them.

XXVI. Death is a cessation from the impression of the senses, the
tyranny of the passions, the errors of the mind, and the servitude of
the body.

XXVII. If in this kind of life thy body be able to hold out, it is a
shame that thy soul should faint first, and give over, take heed, lest
of a philosopher thou become a mere Caesar in time, and receive a new
tincture from the court. For it may happen if thou dost not take heed.
Keep thyself therefore, truly simple, good, sincere, grave, free
from all ostentation, a lover of that which is just, religious, kind,
tender-hearted, strong and vigorous to undergo anything that becomes
thee. Endeavour to continue such, as philosophy (hadst thou wholly and
constantly applied thyself unto it) would have made, and secured thee.
Worship the Gods, procure the welfare of men, this life is short.
Charitable actions, and a holy disposition, is the only fruit of this
earthly life.

XXVIII. Do all things as becometh the disciple of Antoninus Pius.
Remember his resolute constancy in things that were done by him
according to reason, his equability in all things, his sanctity; the
cheerfulness of his countenance, his sweetness, and how free he was from
all vainglory; how careful to come to the true and exact knowledge of
matters in hand, and how he would by no means give over till he did
fully, and plainly understand the whole state of the business; and how
patiently, and without any contestation he would bear with them, that
did unjustly condemn him: how he would never be over-hasty in anything,
nor give ear to slanders and false accusations, but examine and observe
with best diligence the several actions and dispositions of men. Again,
how he was no backbiter, nor easily frightened, nor suspicious, and in
his language free from all affectation and curiosity: and how easily he
would content himself with few things, as lodging, bedding, clothing,
and ordinary nourishment, and attendance. How able to endure labour, how
patient; able through his spare diet to continue from morning to evening
without any necessity of withdrawing before his accustomed hours to
the necessities of nature: his uniformity and constancy in matter of
friendship. How he would bear with them that with all boldness and
liberty opposed his opinions; and even rejoice if any man could better
advise him: and lastly, how religious he was without superstition. All
these things of him remember, that whensoever thy last hour shall
come upon thee, it may find thee, as it did him, ready for it in the
possession of a good conscience.

XXIX. Stir up thy mind, and recall thy wits again from thy natural
dreams, and visions, and when thou art perfectly awoken, and canst
perceive that they were but dreams that troubled thee, as one newly
awakened out of another kind of sleep look upon these worldly things
with the same mind as thou didst upon those, that thou sawest in thy
sleep.

XXX. I consist of body and soul. Unto my body all things are
indifferent, for of itself it cannot affect one thing more than another
with apprehension of any difference; as for my mind, all things which
are not within the verge of her own operation, are indifferent unto her,
and for her own operations, those altogether depend of her; neither
does she busy herself about any, but those that are present; for as
for future and past operations, those also are now at this present
indifferent unto her.

XXXI. As long as the foot doth that which belongeth unto it to do, and
the hand that which belongs unto it, their labour, whatsoever it be, is
not unnatural. So a man as long as he doth that which is proper unto
a man, his labour cannot be against nature; and if it be not against
nature, then neither is it hurtful unto him. But if it were so that
happiness did consist in pleasure: how came notorious robbers, impure
abominable livers, parricides, and tyrants, in so large a measure to
have their part of pleasures?

XXXII. Dost thou not see, how even those that profess mechanic arts,
though in some respect they be no better than mere idiots, yet they
stick close to the course of their trade, neither can they find in
their heart to decline from it: and is it not a grievous thing that
an architect, or a physician shall respect the course and mysteries of
their profession, more than a man the proper course and condition of his
own nature, reason, which is common to him and to the Gods?

XXXIII. Asia, Europe; what are they, but as corners of the whole world;
of which the whole sea, is but as one drop; and the great Mount Athos,
but as a clod, as all present time is but as one point of eternity. All,
petty things; all things that are soon altered, soon perished. And all
things come from one beginning; either all severally and particularly
deliberated and resolved upon, by the general ruler and governor of all;
or all by necessary consequence.
So that the dreadful hiatus of a gaping
lion, and all poison, and all hurtful things, are but (as the thorn and
the mire) the necessary consequences of goodly fair things. Think not
of these therefore, as things contrary to those which thou dost much
honour, and respect; but consider in thy mind the true fountain of all.

XXXIV He that seeth the things that are now, hath Seen all that either
was ever, or ever shall be, for all things are of one kind; and all like
one unto another. Meditate often upon the connection of all things in
the world; and upon the mutual relation that they have one unto another.
For all things are after a sort folded and involved one within another,
and by these means all agree well together. For one thing is consequent
unto another, by local motion, by natural conspiration and agreement,
and by substantial union, or, reduction of all substances into one.

XXXV. Fit and accommodate thyself to that estate and to those
occurrences, which by the destinies have been annexed unto thee; and
love those men whom thy fate it is to live with; but love them truly. An
instrument, a tool, an utensil, whatsoever it be, if it be fit for the
purpose it was made for, it is as it should be though he perchance that
made and fitted it, be out of sight and gone. But in things natural,
that power which hath framed and fitted them, is and abideth within them
still: for which reason she ought also the more to be respected, and we
are the more obliged (if we may live and pass our time according to her
purpose and intention) to think that all is well with us, and according
to our own minds. After this manner also, and in this respect it is,
that he that is all in all doth enjoy his happiness.

XXXVI. What things soever are not within the proper power and
jurisdiction of thine own will either to compass or avoid, if thou shalt
propose unto thyself any of those things as either good, or evil; it
must needs be that according as thou shalt either fall into that which
thou dost think evil, or miss of that which thou dost think good, so
wilt thou be ready both to complain of the Gods, and to hate those men,
who either shall be so indeed, or shall by thee be suspected as the
cause either of thy missing of the one, or falling into the other. And
indeed we must needs commit many evils, if we incline to any of these
things, more or less, with an opinion of any difference. But if we mind
and fancy those things only, as good and bad, which wholly depend of our
own wills, there is no more occasion why we should either murmur against
the Gods, or be at enmity with any man.

XXXVII. We all work to one effect, some willingly, and with a rational
apprehension of what we do: others without any such knowledge. As I
think Heraclitus in a place speaketh of them that sleep, that even they
do work in their kind, and do confer to the general operations of the
world. One man therefore doth co-operate after one sort, and another
after another sort; but even he that doth murmur, and to his power doth
resist and hinder; even he as much as any doth co-operate. For of such
also did the world stand in need. Now do thou consider among which of
these thou wilt rank thyself. For as for him who is the Administrator
of all, he will make good use of thee whether thou wilt or no, and make
thee (as a part and member of the whole) so to co-operate with him,
that whatsoever thou doest, shall turn to the furtherance of his own
counsels, and resolutions. But be not thou for shame such a part of the
whole, as that vile and ridiculous verse (which Chrysippus in a place
doth mention) is a part of the comedy. XXXVIII. Doth either the sun take
upon him to do that which belongs to the rain? or his son Aesculapius
that, which unto the earth doth properly belong? How is it with every
one of the stars in particular? Though they all differ one from another,
and have their several charges and functions by themselves, do they not
all nevertheless concur and co-operate to one end?

XXXIX. If so be that the Gods have deliberated in particular of those
things that should happen unto me, I must stand to their deliberation,
as discrete and wise. For that a God should be an imprudent God, is a
thing hard even to conceive: and why should they resolve to do me hurt?
for what profit either unto them or the universe (which they specially
take care for) could arise from it? But if so be that they have not
deliberated of me in particular, certainly they have of the whole in
general, and those things which in consequence and coherence of this
general deliberation happen unto me in particular, I am bound to embrace
and accept of. But if so be that they have not deliberated at all (which
indeed is very irreligious for any man to believe: for then let us
neither sacrifice, nor pray, nor respect our oaths, neither let us any
more use any of those things, which we persuaded of the presence and
secret conversation of the Gods among us, daily use and practise:)
but, I say, if so be that they have not indeed either in general, or
particular deliberated of any of those things, that happen unto us
in this world; yet God be thanked, that of those things that
concern myself, it is lawful for me to deliberate myself, and all my
deliberation is but concerning that which may be to me most profitable.
Now that unto every one is most profitable, which is according to his
own constitution and nature. And my nature is, to be rational in all my
actions and as a good, and natural member of a city and commonwealth,
towards my fellow members ever to be sociably and kindly disposed and
affected. My city and country as I am Antoninus, is Rome; as a man, the
whole world. Those things therefore that are expedient and profitable to
those cities, are the only things that are good and expedient for me.

XL. Whatsoever in any kind doth happen to any one, is expedient to the
whole. And thus much to content us might suffice, that it is expedient
for the whole in general. But yet this also shalt thou generally
perceive, if thou dost diligently take heed, that whatsoever doth happen
to any one man or men. . . . And now I am content that the word expedient,
should more generally be understood of those things which we otherwise
call middle things, or things indifferent; as health, wealth, and the
like.

XLI. As the ordinary shows of the theatre and of other such places,
when thou art presented with them, affect thee; as the same things still
seen, and in the same fashion, make the sight ingrateful and tedious;
so must all the things that we see all our life long affect us. For all
things, above and below, are still the same, and from the same causes.
When then will there be an end?

XLII. Let the several deaths of men of all sorts, and of all sorts of
professions, and of all sort of nations, be a perpetual object of thy
thoughts,. . . so that thou mayst even come down to Philistio, Phoebus,
and Origanion. Pass now to other generations. Thither shall we after
many changes, where so many brave orators are; where so many grave
philosophers; Heraclitus, Pythagoras, Socrates. Where so many heroes of
the old times; and then so many brave captains of the latter times; and
so many kings. After all these, where Eudoxus, Hipparchus, Archimedes;
where so many other sharp, generous, industrious, subtile, peremptory
dispositions; and among others, even they, that have been the greatest
scoffers and deriders of the frailty and brevity of this our human life;
as Menippus, and others, as many as there have been such as he. Of all
these consider, that they long since are all dead, and gone. And what do
they suffer by it! Nay they that have not so much as a name remaining,
what are they the worse for it? One thing there is, and that only, which
is worth our while in this world, and ought by us much to be esteemed;
and that is, according to truth and righteousness, meekly and lovingly
to converse with false, and unrighteous men.

XLIII. When thou wilt comfort and cheer thyself, call to mind the
several gifts and virtues of them, whom thou dost daily converse with;
as for example, the industry of the one; the modesty of another; the
liberality of a third; of another some other thing. For nothing can so
much rejoice thee, as the resemblances and parallels of several virtues,
visible and eminent in the dispositions of those who live with thee;
especially when, all at once, as near as may be, they represent
themselves unto thee. And therefore thou must have them always in a
readiness.

XLIV. Dost thou grieve that thou dost weigh but so many pounds, and not
three hundred rather? Just as much reason hast thou to grieve that
thou must live but so many years, and not longer. For as for bulk and
substance thou dost content thyself with that proportion of it that is
allotted unto thee, so shouldst thou for time.

XLV. Let us do our best endeavours to persuade them; but however, if
reason and justice lead thee to it, do it, though they be never so much
against it. But if any shall by force withstand thee, and hinder thee in
it, convert thy virtuous inclination from one object unto another, from
justice to contented equanimity, and cheerful patience: so that what in
the one is thy hindrance, thou mayst make use of it for the exercise of
another virtue: and remember that it was with due exception, and
reservation, that thou didst at first incline and desire. For thou didst
not set thy mind upon things impossible. Upon what then? that all thy
desires might ever be moderated with this due kind of reservation. And
this thou hast, and mayst always obtain, whether the thing desired be in
thy power or no. And what do I care for more, if that for which I was
born and brought forth into the world (to rule all my desires with
reason and discretion) may be?

XLVI. The ambitious supposeth another man's act, praise and applause, to
be his own happiness; the voluptuous his own sense and feeling; but he
that is wise, his own action.

XLVII. It is in thy power absolutely to exclude all manner of conceit
and opinion, as concerning this matter; and by the same means, to
exclude all grief and sorrow from thy soul. For as for the things and
objects themselves, they of themselves have no such power, whereby to
beget and force upon us any opinion at all.

XLVIII. Use thyself when any man speaks unto thee, so to hearken unto
him, as that in the interim thou give not way to any other thoughts;
that so thou mayst (as far as is possible) seem fixed and fastened to
his very soul, whosoever he be that speaks unto thee.

XLIX. That which is not good for the bee-hive, cannot be good for the
bee.

L. Will either passengers, or patients, find fault and complain, either
the one if they be well carried, or the others if well cured? Do they
take care for any more than this; the one, that their shipmaster may
bring them safe to land, and the other, that their physician may effect
their recovery?

LI. How many of them who came into the world at the same time when I
did, are already gone out of it?

LII. To them that are sick of the jaundice, honey seems bitter; and to
them that are bitten by a mad dog, the water terrible; and to children,
a little ball seems a fine thing. And why then should I be angry? or
do I think that error and false opinion is less powerful to make men
transgress, than either choler, being immoderate and excessive, to cause
the jaundice; or poison, to cause rage?

LIII. No man can hinder thee to live as thy nature doth require. Nothing
can happen unto thee, but what the common good of nature doth require.

LIV. What manner of men they be whom they seek to please, and what to
get, and by what actions: how soon time will cover and bury all things,
and how many it hath already buried!




THE SEVENTH BOOK

I. What is wickedness? It is that which many time and often thou hast
already seen and known in the world. And so oft as anything doth happen
that might otherwise trouble thee, let this memento presently come to
thy mind, that it is that which thou hast already often Seen and known.
Generally, above and below, thou shalt find but the same things. The
very same things whereof ancient stories, middle age stories, and fresh
stories are full whereof towns are full, and houses full. There is
nothing that is new. All things that are, are both usual and of little
continuance.

II. What fear is there that thy dogmata, or philosophical resolutions
and conclusions, should become dead in thee, and lose their proper
power and efficacy to make thee live happy, as long as those proper
and correlative fancies, and representations of things on which they
mutually depend (which continually to stir up and revive is in thy
power,) are still kept fresh and alive? It is in my power concerning
this thing that is happened, what soever it be, to conceit that which is
right and true. If it be, why then am I troubled? Those things that are
without my understanding, are nothing to it at all: and that is it only,
which doth properly concern me. Be always in this mind, and thou wilt be
right.

III. That which most men would think themselves most happy for, and
would prefer before all things, if the Gods would grant it unto them
after their deaths, thou mayst whilst thou livest grant unto thyself; to
live again. See the things of the world again, as thou hast already seen
them. For what is it else to live again? Public shows and solemnities
with much pomp and vanity, stage plays, flocks and herds; conflicts
and contentions: a bone thrown to a company of hungry curs; a bait for
greedy fishes; the painfulness, and continual burden-bearing of wretched
ants, the running to and fro of terrified mice: little puppets drawn up
and down with wires and nerves: these be the objects of the world among
all these thou must stand steadfast, meekly affected, and free from all
manner of indignation; with this right ratiocination and apprehension;
that as the worth is of those things which a man doth affect, so is in
very deed every man's worth more or less.

IV. Word after word, every one by itself, must the things that are
spoken be conceived and understood; and so the things that are done,
purpose after purpose, every one by itself likewise. And as in matter of
purposes and actions, we must presently see what is the proper use and
relation of every one; so of words must we be as ready, to consider of
every one what is the true meaning, and signification of it according to
truth and nature, however it be taken in common use.

V. Is my reason, and understanding sufficient for this, or no? If it be
sufficient, without any private applause, or public ostentation as of an
instrument, which by nature I am provided of, I will make use of it for
the work in hand, as of an instrument, which by nature I am provided of.
if it be not, and that otherwise it belong not unto me particularly as
a private duty, I will either give it over, and leave it to some other
that can better effect it: or I will endeavour it; but with the help
of some other, who with the joint help of my reason, is able to bring
somewhat to pass, that will now be seasonable and useful for the common
good. For whatsoever I do either by myself, or with some other, the
only thing that I must intend, is, that it be good and expedient for
the public. For as for praise, consider how many who once were much
commended, are now already quite forgotten, yea they that commended
them, how even they themselves are long since dead and gone. Be not
therefore ashamed, whensoever thou must use the help of others. For
whatsoever it be that lieth upon thee to effect, thou must propose it
unto thyself, as the scaling of walls is unto a soldier. And what if
thou through either lameness or some other impediment art not able to
reach unto the top of the battlements alone, which with the help of
another thou mayst; wilt thou therefore give it over, or go about it
with less courage and alacrity, because thou canst not effect it all
alone?

VI. Let not things future trouble thee. For if necessity so require that
they come to pass, thou shalt (whensoever that is) be provided for them
with the same reason, by which whatsoever is now present, is made both
tolerable and acceptable unto thee. All things are linked and knitted
together, and the knot is sacred, neither is there anything in the
world, that is not kind and natural in regard of any other thing, or,
that hath not some kind of reference and natural correspondence with
whatsoever is in the world besides. For all things are ranked together,
and by that decency of its due place and order that each particular
doth observe, they all concur together to the making of one and the same
["Kosmos" ed] or world: as if you said, a comely piece, or an orderly
composition. For all things throughout, there is but one and the same
order; and through all things, one and the same God, the same substance
and the same law. There is one common reason, and one common truth, that
belongs unto all reasonable creatures, for neither is there save one
perfection of all creatures that are of the same kind, and partakers of
the same reason.

VII. Whatsoever is material, doth soon vanish away into the common
substance of the whole; and whatsoever is formal, or, whatsoever doth
animate that which is material, is soon resumed into the common reason
of the whole; and the fame and memory of anything, is soon swallowed up
by the general age and duration of the whole.

VIII. To a reasonable creature, the same action is both according
to nature, and according to reason.

IX. Straight of itself, not made straight.

X. As several members in one body united, so are reasonable creatures
in a body divided and dispersed, all made and prepared for one common
operation. And this thou shalt apprehend the better, if thou shalt use
thyself often to say to thyself, I am meloz, or a member of the mass and
body of reasonable substances. But if thou shalt say I am meroz, or
a part, thou dost not yet love men from thy heart. The joy that thou
takest in the exercise of bounty, is not yet grounded upon a due
ratiocination and right apprehension of the nature of things. Thou dost
exercise it as yet upon this ground barely, as a thing convenient and
fitting; not, as doing good to thyself, when thou dost good unto others.

XI. Of things that are external, happen what will to that which can
suffer by external accidents. Those things that suffer let them complain
themselves, if they will; as for me, as long as I conceive no such
thing, that that which is happened is evil, I have no hurt; and it is in
my power not to conceive any such thing.

XII. Whatsoever any man either doth or saith, thou must be good; not for
any man's sake, but for thine own nature's sake; as if either gold, or
the emerald, or purple, should ever be saying to themselves, Whatsoever
any man either doth or saith, I must still be an emerald, and I must
keep my colour.

XIII. This may ever be my comfort and security: my understanding, that
ruleth over all, will not of itself bring trouble and vexation upon
itself. This I say; it will not put itself in any fear, it will not lead
itself into any concupiscence. If it be in the power of any other to
compel it to fear, or to grieve, it is free for him to use his power.
But sure if itself do not of itself, through some false opinion or
supposition incline itself to any such disposition; there is no fear.
For as for the body, why should I make the grief of my body, to be the
grief of my mind? If that itself can either fear or complain, let it.
But as for the soul, which indeed, can only be truly sensible of either
fear or grief; to which only it belongs according to its different
imaginations and opinions, to admit of either of these, or of their
contraries; thou mayst look to that thyself, that it suffer nothing.
Induce her not to any such opinion or persuasion. The understanding
is of itself sufficient unto itself, and needs not (if itself doth not
bring itself to need) any other thing besides itself, and by consequent
as it needs nothing, so neither can it be troubled or hindered by
anything, if itself doth not trouble and hinder itself.

XIV. What is rv&nfLovia, or happiness: but a7~o~ &d~wv, or, a good
da~rnon, or spirit? What then dost thou do here, O opinion? By the Gods
I adjure thee, that thou get thee gone, as thou earnest: for I need thee
not. Thou earnest indeed unto me according to thy ancient wonted manner.
It is that, that all men have ever been subject unto. That thou camest
therefore I am not angry with thee, only begone, now that I have found
thee what thou art.

XV. Is any man so foolish as to fear change, to which all things that
once were not owe their being? And what is it, that is more pleasing and
more familiar to the nature of the universe? How couldst thou thyself
use thy ordinary hot baths, should not the wood that heateth them first
be changed? How couldst thou receive any nourishment from those things
that thou hast eaten, if they should not be changed? Can anything
else almost (that is useful and profitable) be brought to pass without
change? How then dost not thou perceive, that for thee also, by death,
to come to change, is a thing of the very same nature, and as necessary
for the nature of the universe?

XVI. Through the substance of the universe, as through a torrent pass
all particular bodies, being all of the same nature, and all joint
workers with the universe itself as in one of our bodies so many
members among themselves. How many such as Chrysippus, how many such
as Socrates, how many such as Epictetus, hath the age of the world
long since swallowed up and devoured? Let this, be it either men or
businesses, that thou hast occasion to think of, to the end that thy
thoughts be not distracted and thy mind too earnestly set upon anything,
upon every such occasion presently come to thy mind. Of all my thoughts
and cares, one only thing shall be the object, that I myself do nothing
which to the proper constitution of man, (either in regard of the
thing itself, or in regard of the manner, or of the time of doing,)
is contrary. The time when thou shalt have forgotten all things, is
at hand. And that time also is at hand, when thou thyself shalt be
forgotten by all. Whilst thou art, apply thyself to that especially
which unto man as he is a mart, is most proper and agreeable, and that
is, for a man even to love them that transgress against him. This shall
be, if at the same time that any such thing doth happen, thou call
to mind, that they are thy kinsmen; that it is through ignorance and
against their wills that they sin; and that within a very short while
after, both thou and he shall be no more. But above all things, that he
hath not done thee any hurt; for that by him thy mind and understanding
is not made worse or more vile than it was before.

XVII. The nature of the universe, of the common substance of all things
as it were of so much wax hath now perchance formed a horse; and then,
destroying that figure, hath new tempered and fashioned the matter of it
into the form and substance of a tree: then that again into the form and
substance of a man: and then that again into some other. Now every one
of these doth subsist but for a very little while. As for dissolution,
if it be no grievous thing to the chest or trunk, to be joined together;
why should it be more grievous to be put asunder?

XVIII. An angry countenance is much against nature, and it is oftentimes
the proper countenance of them that are at the point of death. But were
it so, that all anger and passion were so thoroughly quenched in thee,
that it were altogether impossible to kindle it any more, yet herein
must not thou rest satisfied, but further endeavour by good consequence
of true ratiocination, perfectly to conceive and understand, that all
anger and passion is against reason. For if thou shalt not be sensible
of thine innocence; if that also shall be gone from thee, the comfort of
a good conscience, that thou doest all things according to reason: what
shouldest thou live any longer for? All things that now thou seest,
are but for a moment. That nature, by which all things in the world are
administered, will soon bring change and alteration upon them, and then
of their substances make other things like unto them: and then soon
after others again of the matter and substance of these: that so by
these means, the world may still appear fresh and new.