MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS THE ROMAN EMPEROR, HIS MEDITATIONS Concerning HIMSELF: TREATING OF A NATURAL Man's happiness; Wherein it consisteth, and of the means to attain unto it.  
TRANSLATED OUT OF THE Original Greek; with Notes: BY MERIC CASAUBON, B. of D. and prebendary of CHRIST Church, Canterbury.  ECCLUS. 18.8. 
What is man, and whereto serveth he?  
What is his good, and what is his evil?  Ibid. 37.3. 
O wicked imagination, whence camest thou in, to cover the Earth with deceit?  
LONDON, Printed by M. FLESHER, for RICHARD MYNNE, in Little Britain at the Sign of S. Paul.  
MDCXXXIV.   

REcensui hunc tractatum, cui titulus est. (M. Aurelius Antoninus the Emperor, His Meditations concerning Himself, etc. Translated out of the original Greek with notes) in quo nihil reperio, quod non cum utilitate Publica imprimatur, modo intra septem menses proxime sequentes typis mandetur.  
Dat, ex Aedibus Londin. decimo quarto die Mensis Maii. 1633. Guil. Bray R. P. Domino Episcopo Londin. Capellanus Domesticus.  
 sideways coat of arms 
〈…〉  〈…〉   

To the most R. Father in God, WILLIAM, BY THE DIVINE Providence, LORD Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of all England, and Metropolitan, One of the Lo: of his Ma.tie most Honourable privy Council; and Chancellor of the University of Oxford My very Honourable good Lord.  
May it please your Grace,  
I Present here unto you the Writings of a King. I have praesumed that You would honour that sacred Name even in a Heathen so fare, as to accept of the work, were it but for the Author's sake. For as it may well be esteemed (in such an age as this) none of your Graces lest commendations, that you are truly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; so I suppose yourself account it no small happiness, that you live to serve so Great & Gracious a King. But if the bare Name of a King would not serve, I could add, that they are the writings of the Wisest, the Learnedest, the Bost that ever was among Heathen Kings, if Historians may be credited. It is observed by some of them as a great argument of the Divine Providence, that such a Prince was provided against such times, when all things seemed to tend to ruin and confusion, and all human ordinary means were thought too little to keep the Empire standing: the happy preservation whereof they generally ascribe to the singular & extraordinary Wisdom of this One; both in his Wars, abroad; & in his Civil government, at home. Hence it is, that as of a man of whom there is no hope, we commonly say, Ne Salus quidem: so was it used as a Proverb in afterages by some of them, of a State irrecoverably gone, and declined, Ne Marcus quidem. As for his Learning, I could wish your Grace had the leisure to peruse the historians own words, lest mine may seem too hyberbolical, and yet come far short of their expressions. What shall I say then of his Integrity, which is so commended by them, as it alone might well be thought sufficient without any other commendation, to make him Incomparable? And indeed I fear I have spoken but improperly, when I have mentioned his Wisdom, Learning, & Integrity, as three several Excellencies, since that (as he Himself professed, & they report of him) all the Learning he was ambitious of, was but to be Wise, & all the wisdom, but to be good. The writings of such a one, I know your Grace would respect, although he had been no King. And yet another reason, which hath made me the bolder to present them to your Grace is, because in reading them you shall often read yourself: and though perchance your Modesty will not suffer you to make the application, yet others will, I am sure, that shall read him, and I could not but have respect unto it. Upon these reasons I have presumed. If beyond reason; I have no other excuse of my boldness, but as I am,  
YOUR GRACES humbly devoted Chaplain, MERIC CASAUBON.   

SOME FEW TESTIMONIES CONCERNING ANTONINUS, AND THESE HIS BOOKS.  

Out of SVIDAS.  
MARCUS the Roman Emperor; whom it is easier to admire in silence then to praise, it being altogether impossible to equal his merits with any expression of words. For from his youth having betaken himself to a compozed, and settled course of life, ho was never seen to alter his countenance, through either fear or pleasure. He most approved the Stoics, not only in their order and discipline of life, but also in their course and method of learning. He therefore from his younger years, became so famous and illustrious, that Adrianus intended oftentimes to settle the Empire upon him: but having after a more legal way first settled it upon Antoninus Pius, he nevertheless reserved the succession of it unto Marcus. He thought good also by marriage to alley him unto Anton. Pius, that so by succession of blood also he might come to the Empire. As for Marcus, he still continued in the same private course of life, and in the like subjection as other Romans did, and was in nothing altered by this adoption, and new affinity. And when he was come to the Empire, and had the absolute power in his hands, he was never known to do any thing insolently, but as in matters of bounty he was always most free, and exuberant; so in his government, he was no less meek and moderate.   

Again out of the same.  
MArcus Antoninus a Roman Emperor, having deserved in all things the commendation of a perfect Philosopher, etc. He hath written concerning the course of his own life, twelve Books.   

Athenagoras, a Philosopher of Athens, in his Apology for the Christians addressed unto Marcus Antoninus, and his son Commodus, by way of humble Mediation and Intercession.  
I Know well enough, that ye do not more surpass others in royal power and prudence, then in the exact perfection of all manner of learning: so that even they that have singled out, and wholly applied themselves to any one part, have not attained to that happy perfection in that one, which ye have attained unto in all parts of learning.   

jul. Capitol. in vita Marci.  
ERat enim ipse tantae tranquillitatis, ut vultum nunquam mutaverit maerore vel gaudio, Philosophiae deditus Stoicae, quam et per optimos quosque magistros acceperat, et undique ipse collegerat.   

Vulcatius Gallicanus in Avidio Cassio.  
NEc defuere qui illum [Cassium, scil.] Catilinam vocarent; cum et ipse gauderet se ita appellari, addens futurum se Sergium, si Dialogistam occidisset, Antoninum hoc nomine significans; qui tantum enituit in Philosophia, ut iturus ad bellum Marcommanicum, timentibus cunctis ne quid fatale proveniret, rogatus sit, non adulatione sed serio, ut praecepta Philosophiae ederet, etc.   

Aurelius Victor, in Breviario.  
TAntum Marco sapientiae, innocentiae, ac literarum fuit, ut is Marcommanos cum filio Commodo, quem Caesarem suffecerat, petiturus, Philosophorum obtestantium [vi] circumfunderetur, ne se expeditioni aut pugnae prius committer et, quàm sectarum ardua et occulta explanavisset. Ita incerta belli [in] ejus salute doctrinae studijs metuebantur; tantumque illo imperante floruere artes bonae, ut illam gloriam etiam temporum putem.   

Is. C. Exercit. in Bar. pag. 85.  
MVlta in hanc sententiam scribit M. Antoninus Imperator, in suis illis divinis libris, etc.  
Idem ad ista julij Capit: ridens res humanas, etc. Non ridere, sed ritè, ac suo pretio aestimare res humanas solitus hic vir sapientissimus. Hoc ille nos docet, divinis illis suis libris: velut cum ait in II. non enim tempero mihi, quin mellitissimi doctoris verba adscribam, etc.   

Canterus Nou. Lect. lib. 7. cap. 1.  
MArcus Aurelius Antoninus, imperator optimus, atque idem philosophus tantus, ut hoc meruerit proprium cognomen, duodecim conscripsit de officio suo libros, maximae pietatis, humanitatis, temperantiae, eruditionis, aliarum rerum praeclararum testes plenissimos; et cum quibus multorum philosophorum operosa praecepta collata, merito sordere possint. Quocirca nemo, spero, male collocatum tempus putabit, quod in ejus operis lectionem studiosè quondam impendimus, cùm ex eâ praeter caetera, fructum hunc retulerimus, quod ex multis vitiosis locis duo saltem dextro, si dicere licet, Aesculapio sanavimus. Ac primum sub finem primi lib. ait, 
Lib. 1. num. XIV.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, repetitur autem 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, sed pro 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ego 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 legendum affirmare non dubito. Nam ideo mox subjungit haec, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Quod si, inquit, in poeticis et oratoriis studiis faeliciter progressus fuissem; nemo me inde retrahere, et ad maiora perducere facile potuisset. Quocirca Diis gratias ago, quod in studiis illis non nimis magnum feci profectum, nec ea nimis adamare coepi. Nec iniuria Imperator. Nam ut in homine privato tolerari fortassis queat, si natura iubente, suppetente otio, aspirante fortuna, iucunda Musarum studia paulo diutius colat, et amoenissimas sirenas, quae tamen non dent sine ment sonum, attentius ac pertinacius auscultet: Ita non potest is, quem ad res maximas gerendas, ac totius Vniversi curam natura progenuit, aliò cogitationes omnes suas, quàm ad cum scopum dirigere, et ut illum assequatur quàm citissime, non omnem operam dare. Sed iam ad alterum pergamus locum. 
Lib. VI num. I.  In fin. lib. sexti, hanc adfert similitudinem, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Quemadmodum, inquit, si nautae gubernatori, aut aegroti medico maledicerent, non facilè alium auscultarent, nec vel ille vectorum salutem, vel hic aegrotantium sanitatem procurare posset: ita cum quis alius nunquam alteri bene et recte monenti parere consilium capit, is non temere vel rectum vitae cursum tenere, vel post errorem in viam possit redire. Uerum quod pene oblitus eram, pro 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 legendum est 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Quod cum non advertisset interpres, 
A lanaer.  alioqui doctissimus, quique paucos hac aetate pares habet, alienum planè sensum commentus est. Sed profecto homines omnes sumus, et erramus facilime: nec reperitur hoc saeculo quisquam, qui securus possit medium Momo digitum ostendere.    

ERRATA.  
PREF. pag. 4. lin. 31. read arbitretur. p. 5. l. 8. r. by nature. p. 21. l. 21. r. inpraecipuis.  
ANTONIN. p. 33. l. 15. as a man. r. a man. p. 37. l. 20. r. cheerfully. p. 120. l. 19 Africanus. r. Adrianus. p. 121. l. 9 and that it des. r. and desireth. p. 137. l. 3. r. everflowing. p. 159. l 17. r. thou art enclosed. p. 162. l. 10. r. shall they that are of my K. p. 172. l. 20. r. of or for any th'. p. 179. l 26. r. so then. p. 182. l. 23. for shame. r. for dance. p. 183. l. 29. r. Io Cith. p. 184. l. 25. r. of life. p. 186. l. 3. r. common it is. p. 196. l 4. r. after green figs. p 198. l. 11. r. nev. begin to live.  
NOTES. p. 40. l. 3. r. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. p, 43. l. 15.16. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 must be put out. ibid. l. 25. r. jam. p. 44. l. 28. r. and be.   

TO THE READER.  
THis Book (of what worth I say not; but more men, I fear, will commend it, then will know how to make use of it:) after it had for so many ages undeservedly been buried in darkness: is now first; if I may not say brought unto light, yet at least made common and intelligible. Twice it is true, within these 80. years it hath already been set out in its own original Greek: and set out both times with a Latin Translation, much revised and corrected in the latter edition. Yet such are those editions, both of them, so confused, and so corrupt; and such is the Translation in both the Editions, so imperfect often, and impertinent; that I say not so absurd and erroneous, as that it is not easy to determine, whether it be harder to understand Antoninus his meaning by the Greek that is printed; or the Greek that is printed, by the Translation of it: but that of both we may boldly and peremptorily conclude; of the one, that it cannot possibly be understood, as it is printed; and of the other, that it would be more for the credit of the Author (a man otherwise acknowledged very learned:) if we did take no notice of it at all. I must add beside, that there hath been many years ago a certain Book, first written in Spanish, and since translated into Italian, French, English, and how many tongues more I know not; pretended by the Title to be a Translation of M. Aurel. Antoninus. But that the Author of it, (a learned Spaniard) was in good earnest, I could never have believed, and would have thought I had done him great wrong to say it, had not I read his Prefaces, where he so earnestly by reasons, such as he could find, goes about to make his Title good, and as earnestly expostulates with men for their incredulity, who did not take his reasons for current and clear ones. I cannot but commend his intention, which certainly was to do good; but his way I much abhor, and wonder as much at his judgement and discretion. Sure I am that by his whole book it doth not appear, that he had ever so much as seen that himself, which his Title doth promise unto others, M. Aurel. Antoninus his book: which either must be this here, or none. For besides this, there is not any other, that ever was extant. For as for those other writings of his, which either he himself in his second book, or Capitolinus in his life, or Nicephorus in his Ecclesiastical History (lib. 3. cap. 31.) or any others mention, they mention them as books written, and composed by him, but not as ever publicly extant; which if they had, Suidas, or whosoever they be, whom Suidas in his Dictionary, in the word Marcus, doth allege, would not have omitted them. Thus much I thought good here briefly to acquaint the Reader with; who if he please, may receive further satisfaction, by the ensuing Discourse.   

A DISCOURSE BY WAY OF PREFACE: Concerning The Use and Subject of this Book: The Author ANTONINUS; And this Translation of it.  
OF all the several sects and professions of Philosophers that ever were known or heard of in the world, there was not any that ever did hold maxims and opinions so contrary to flesh and blood; never any that was judged even by the learned Heathens themselves (witness learned Plutarch, who hath written a whole Book of this very subject:) so grossly and manifestly to oppose nature, and to overthrow all grounds and principles of humane sense or reason, as the Stoics did. And yet of all sects and professions, never any, that either with the best was of more credit, or with the vulgar more plausible. So plausible and popular, that there have been times, 
Lucian in Hermotimo, & Is: C. ad ista Pers. Si Cynico barbam petulans, etc. pag▪ 165.  when the number of the Stoics alone, did exceed all the followers and professors of all other sects being put together. A thing the more to be wondered at, because that for that very reason, Christianity (though nothing so harsh in comparison:) hath ever by them of contrary professions, been much opposed and contradicted. Of this a main reason I conceive to have been, that the Stoics, though by their particular Tenets and opinions, they might seem of all others most to oppose nature, yet that which they proposed unto themselves as the end of their lives, and the ground of all their Philosophy; that which they did ever sound in the ears of men and press them with, was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to live according to nature. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: 
B. V N. IX.  Remember that philosophy requireth no more at thy hands, than what thine own nature doth require, and leads thee unto: saith Antoninus. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
B. VI N. XXV.  What acruell and unnatural thing would it be to restrain men from the pursuit of those things, which they conceive to themselves and their own nature, 
See Ant. B. V Numb. I.  most proper and convenient? So they all speak, and that which they all generally did most beat upon, was this. Now whether the particular means which they did commend & propose unto that end, were indeed proper and natural unto that end, unto which they did propose them, I will not here dispute. For the end, whether true or pretended, is that which men usually take most notice of. As for the means, how direct or indirect to that end, is not so easily discerned. Their end therefore, being of itself so plausible and acceptable, I conceive it to have been the thing especially, which made their doctrine and philosophy so too. And I am as verily persuaded, that a conceit and opinion many Christians have, that most of those things which are reproved in them as sins and vices, agree best with their natures; and many, if not most, of those duties that are required of them as Christians, are against, not depraved and corrupted only, which is not properly nature; but absolutely against the nature of man: and in general that divine law and humane sense and reason, are things contrary and opposite; is that as much as any thing that doth discourage them from the intent practice and study of those things, which they by their profession cannot but acknowledge themselves bound unto. For it is not more natural to a man to love his own flesh, (which the Apostle witnesseth, no man ever hated:) then to love nature, and what he conceives to be according to nature. Though it be not so, yet if he conceive it so, he affects it naturally, and in time it becomes natural unto him indeed.  
Now concerning Christianity, I know it is the opinion of many, that, matters of Faith and the Sacraments only excepted, there is nothing in the whole Gospel which is not juris naturalis, and most agreeable to humane reason. For my part, as I would not take upon me, 
See Hugo Grot. de jure Belliac P. lib. 1. cap. 2. § 6.  to maintain their opinion precisely true in all points, and circumstances; so I must needs say, if we esteem that natural, which natural men of best account by the mere strength of humane reason, have taught and taken upon them to maintain as just and reasonable, I know not any Evangelicall precept, or duty belonging to a Christians practice, (even the harshest, and those that seem to ordinary men most contrary to flesh and blood, not excepted,) but upon due search and examination, will prove of that nature. I say upon due search and examination. Many have touched upon this point, rather to show the way unto others, then by way of undertaking themselves: among others, of late, the best able that I know now living to perform this or any thing else that belongs to a general and complete Scholar, Mr. Hugo Grotius, in his collection and Translation of Greek sentences. There be too, I know, that have undertaken much in this kind: but of whom (as many as I have seen:) I may boldly say (and the more boldly because I name none:) that in many respects they have performed but little. I wish it with all my heart, that some able and judicious man would think it worth his labour and pains: were it but to this end, that the harshness which many Christians (though Christians, yet flesh and blood they will say) do conceive to be in many divine precepts, might be mollified and lessened, when it shall appear that the very same things did not seem harsh to them, that (in comparison of them whom God hath called by more special and supernatural illumination:) were nothing but flesh and blood. That they who as men can so hardly prevail upon themselves to strive against nature, and to yield to those things which they conceive against all humane sense and reason; might be of another mind, when they shall see that mere natural men, who in humane sense and reason, of all others most excelled, have both esteemed themselves bound by nature, and others most unnatural that refused, to follow or to forbear those very things: ut quivis arbitratur (saith Minutius F. though upon another occasion) aut nunc Christianos philosophos esse, aut philosophos fuisse jam tunc Christianos'. But not to prosecute this general any further at this present. Of all Books in this kind that ever have been written by any Heathens. I know not any which either in regard of itself, (for the bulk thereof;) or in regard of the Author, deserves more respect, than this of Marcus Antoninus; son by name of Annius Verus (a man of great quality in Rome) and adopted son of Antoninus Pius, a Roman Emperor, whom also he succeeded in the Empire about the year of our Lord 162, or 163. The chiefest subject of the Book, is, the vanity of the world and all worldly things, as wealth, honour, life, etc. and the end and scope of it, to teach a man how to submit himself wholly to God's providence, and to live content and thankful in what estate or calling soever. But the Book, I doubt not, will sufficiently commend itself, to them who shall be able to read it with any judgement, and to compare it with all others of the same subject, written either by Christians or Heathens: so that it be remembered that it was written by a Heathen: that is, one that had no other knowledge of any God, than such as was grounded upon natural reasons merely: no certain assurance of the Immortality of the soul; no other light whereby he might know what was good or bad, right or wrong, but the light of nature, and humane reason. Which though it were, (such as it was) from God the Author of nature (as what is not?) yet inregard it was not by any revelation, or any other extraordinary means, is therefore called humane and natural. As for the Book itself then, to let it speak for itself; In the Author of it two main things I conceive very considerable, which because by the knowledge of them, the use and benefit of the Book may be much the greater than otherwise it would be, I would not have any ignorant of. The things are these: first, that he was a very great man, one that had good experience of what he spoke; and secondly, that he was a very good man, one that lived as he did write, and exactly (as fare as was possible to a natural man,) performed what he exhorted others unto.  
For the first, I have always thought that it was not without God's especial Providence, that of all them that once were the peculiar people of God, he was chosen to write against the vain pleasures and delights of this world, who of all the rest had had most knowledge and experience of those things, that he did write against. A poor man may from his heart perchance declaim against the vanity of wealth, and pleasures; and a private man, against the vanity of honour, and greatness; it may be from their hearts, but it is ever suspicious, and therefore of less power and efficacy. Suspicious I mean, that they are angry with that they would feign, and cannot get themselves; yea, and perchance inveigh of purpose, that by inveighing (an ordinary thing in the world:) they may get that which they inveigh against. But at the best, that they make a virtue of necessity; that they speak against they know not what; and though they mean sincerely, as now; yet if they were in place themselves, God knows what mind they would be of. And the event indeed, doth justifiie these suspicions but too often. But when a man shall hear such a one as Solomon was, speaking in this manner: I said in my heart, Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth etc. I made me great works, etc. I made me gardens and orchards, etc. I made me pools of water, etc. I got me servants and maidens, etc. I gathered me silver and gold, etc. So I was great, etc. And whatsoever mine eyes desired, I kept not from them, I withheld not my heart from any joy, etc. Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do; and behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the Sun. Is there any man so bewitched, and besotted with worldly wealth and pleasure, whom such a confession from such a one, will not move for a while at the least? And if this of Solomon, who at first had received such measure of Grace and illumination from God, that it may be more justly wondered, that he ever did any thing contrary to this profession, then that he should profess so much; how much more should that confession of Antoninus move us, dilated here by him and enlarged into XII. books and briefly expressed and summed up in these words of his eight Book. 
B. VIII. N. I.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Thou hast already had sufficient experience, that of all the things that hitherto thou hast wandered and erred about, thou couldst not find happiness in any of them: not in syllogisms, and Logical subtleties; not in wealth, not in honour and reputation; not in pleasure: in none of all these. Of Antoninus I say, a mere Heathen, lead by humane reason only; Antoninus a man for worldly wealth and greatness so fare greater than Solomon, as Lord and Master I dare say of more great Kingdoms, than Solomon was of great towns in all his Kingdom; Antoninus, a man for his goodness and wisdom, by all men during his life, had in that honour and reputation, as never man either before him was, or (that we know of) ever after him.  
But his goodness was the second consideration. It hath ever been the complaint of all ages: There hath ever been store enough of men that could speak well, and give good instructions: But great want of them that either could, or so much as endeavoured, to do as they spoke and taught others to do. And what is the good that such can do? The only good I can conceive, is, that they persuade men as much as in them lies (and they go very effectually about it:) that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That all this that we call virtue and godliness, so much spoken of amongst men, are but words and empty sounds; that there is no such thing really existent indeed, as piety and justice, but that it is a mere figment of some cunning jugglers and impostors, or at the best a pretty device of Lawmakers, and founders of commonwealths, to keep silly people in awe and fear. Can any man think otherwise (if otherwise he be not better grounded:) that shall hear them speak and then look upon their actions? Such therefore in my judgement might deserve fare more thankes if they did forbear, and would rather lose the commendations of either a smooth tongue, or a ready pen, then to incur both the just suspicion of being Atheists themselves, and the certain guilt and crime of having made many others so. Be it therefore spoken to the immortal praise and commendation of this famous Antoninus, that as 〈◊〉 did write so he did live. Never did writers so conspire to give all possible testimony of goodness, uprightness, innocency, and whatsoever could among Heathens be most commendable, as they have done to commend this One. They commend him, not as the best Prince only, but absolutely as the best man, and best Philosopher that ever was. And it is his proper commendation, that being so commended, he is commended without exception. If any thing hath ever been talked against him, the Historians mention it but as a talk: not credited by them nor by any that ever were of any credit. Thus the Heathens of Him. The Christians had but little reason to speak well of him, as having suffered many cruel persecutions under him: And in this case how free they have been (some of them:) even with all extremity to inveigh against other Emperors, though much commended and magnified by the Heathens, is not unknown. Yet I find not that ever they could fasten any thing upon our Antoninus, whereby to stain his reputation; that ever they did so much as object unto Him, these many and grievous persecutions which they did suffer under him, as his own act, or charge Him therefore of cruelty. And though it be granted, that Antoninus gave way to those persecutions, which certainly he could not altogether be ignorant of; yet to them that know the state of those days, it can be no wonder, that such a thing should happen in the days of such a Prince as Antoninus was. When Christians, besides the infamy of many horrible crimes, as common incest, homicide, etc. which (such was the power of calumny:) lay upon them; were generally accounted no better, then mere Atheists and Epicures. For indeed Atheists, Christians, and Epicures, were commonly joined together as names, if not of the same signification, yet of very great affinity, and hardly distinguished by the vulgar, but that of the three, the Christian was thought the worst. Let it be then Antoninus his commendation, the greater and the more incredible in this age, the more the age is full of dissimulation and hypocrisy, that he was not (as now they rightly style themselves, whom the common received Names of Christians, and Protestants will not content, such is their Zeal and purity they think:) a Professor: as he spoke and wrote, so he did. His meditations were his actions. His deeds (so still you remember Him a man and a Heathen:) did agree with his sentences. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. And again, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. That he did not only as he spoke, but what he did, he did it out of mere love to virtue. That it was a clear case, which no man doubted of, that he was in very deed a good man; so incapable was he of any dissimulation. So Dio of him, and so others. And now that I have spoken so much of Antoninus his life, it will not be amiss to say somewhat of that surname the Philosopher, which by many hath been given and appropriated to this Emperor. In so much as Xylander, though he found it not at all (as he confesseth) in his MS. yet thought it fitting to add it in the Title, and Inscription of these books as his proper and usual Cognomen. But sure enough it is (as hath been observed by learned men:) that this Title of Philosopher was never taken by Antoninus himself, nor given unto him by others, as a proper surname, as his father Antoninus was surnamed PIUS, and others otherwise, but only as a deserved Elogium and testimony, at the discretion of them that either did speak unto Him, or wrote of Him. And so indeed it was very commonly, and even by those learned and Pious Christians, that directed Apologies unto Him for the Christians, ascribed unto him as an Elogium, and Testimony: just indeed and deserved, but arbitrary and not proper unto Him, by way of a Cognomen or surname.  
But, an Elogium and testimony of what think you? of his great learning (as we take learning now;) and progress in the Sciences? Read him himself, and judge how much he would have esteemed such a commendation. A man would think, if Heathens, through their ignorance of the true God, and of his truth, had been mistaken in the true application of words of praise or dispraise, that we, by the help of a better light, might have rectified them, and not followed their examples. But now it is fallen out quite contrary. Who they be that the holy Scriptures usually call wise; who they to whom they ascribe knowledge and understanding; and who they are, who by them are termed fools, blind, ignorant, and the like, is not unknown unto any. So spoke the Ancient Heathens, when they would speak properly. He that was an honest upright, virtuous man, without dissimulation and hypocrisy, though he were such a one as had never been brought up to learning, yea such a one as could neither read nor write, was their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 their good scholar, their learned man, their Philosopher. His life and his actions, were all that they stood upon, though indeed they were of opinion, that it was very difficult, if not altogether impossible, for a man to come to the knowledge, of that which was right and wrong, just or unjust, and by consequent of true virtue, without much study and pains taking. On the other side, an unjust man, a cunning, an intemperate; in general, a vicious man, was their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 their Illiterate, their Ignorant, their Idiot. The most ordinary distinction was, of an Idiot, and a Philosopher. Neither was this the proper language of the Stoics (which sect our Antoninus was much addicted unto:) but of the Platonics likewise, and of most others. But the main and principal property, whereby they did distinguish a Philosopher from all other men, was that he did all things 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, with a relation unto God and his Providence; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Epictetus (in Arrianus) speaketh. This you shall find that Antoninus doth much stand upon. For indeed they did esteem it the very character and essential note of a philosopher. In so much as that if any man seemed never so just and upright in his actions, yet if it were not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, they esteemed him little more than a mere Idiot.  
Much more I had here to say concerning this matter, both in defence of Plato (whose name hath much suffered through some men's ignorance of the true sense of this word Philosophus) and for the clearing of many obscure places of Antoninus, which otherwise I think will hardly be understood. But because I fear it would make the body of this Preface to swell too much beyond the proportion of the rest, 
See Notes upon B. VIII. N. I.  and that in the Notes it will come in well enough, I will reserve it unto that place.  
Now for this my Translation of Antoninus, which is the last thing we are to speak of, were it so that this Book were as commonly known, and as easy to be got as many others of less worth are, I should be well content to spare my labour, and refer it wholly to the judgement of the Reader. But for as much as by my own experience I know the Book, (though twice printed,) to be so rare, that it is not to be found in many private studies, and sometimes not for many years together, in any Booksellers shop: (I was beholding to learned Mr. Holsworths well furnished library for the first sight, and long use of the latter and better Edition; as also for the use of many other Books:) and that the Latin Translation of Xylander, hath been commended and approved by the most learned (doctissimus; eruditissimus Interpres; vir profundae eruditionis, etc. So they speak of him:) I do think it very necessary, both that I should give the Reader that satisfaction, that I do not actum agere, and do myself that right, that whereas I take upon me to translate Marcus Antoninus Augustus, I may not be suspected to have translated Guilielmus Xylander Augustanus. Indeed what might be expected from Xylanders Interpretation, may be collected by his own ingenuous intimation, both in his Preface, where he is fain to Apologise for it, that he durst undertake it, professing that in quibusdam he was constrained, to divinare & audacter à codice Graeco aut usu communi recedere; as also in his Notes, where his words are, Sunt autem passim permulta, in quibus ariolo magis quam Interprete opus sit: And that he doth so indeed, it doth but too manifestly appear by his Translation. For I dare boldly say, and do him no wrong, that sometimes in a whole page, he hath not two lines of Antoninus his sense, and meaning. Besides the liberty that he takes unto himself to supply of his own head, to leave out sometimes words, sometimes lines, to change and alter at his will; without any reason given for it, or so much as the Reader acquainted with it. And whereas Xylander puts the fault of all this upon the corruption and imperfection of the copy, I cannot any ways approve it. For first, as I confess the faults and corruptions of it, if in the printed copies they have not been made more, than they were in the Manuscript (which I do not believe:) to be many, so of those many, I know none or very few, that may be termed incurable. And as for the Lacunae of it, I hope that they neither in this Translation (and what ancient book is there almost but hath some?) will not be found many. As for any greater hiatus, as perchance of many leaves together, if any shall suspect the Copy to have been defective in that kind, the method and composition of the book being such, that it doth for the most part consist of certain Aphorisms and Canons, (they called them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) without any certain order or series, either in regard of the whole (but that they all tend to one purpose;) or in regard of the parts themselves: as it is not possible by the matter itself for any man, to determine how much more in this kind may have been written by Antoninus; so if there were never so much extant, yet how this that we have here, could thereby be made more perfect than it is, I do not see. Their conceit, who by reason of this undependance of matters, would have the whole book to be but excerpts and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of a greater, and better compacted work; there being so many other books both sacred and profane written in the same kind; and Epictetus (the Pattern of all latter Stoics:) his Enchiridion among the rest, it can at the best pass but for a mere conceit, and needs I hope no other refutation.  
To tell you then what I have done, and that you may be the better satisfied that I except not against Xylanders' Interpretation without cause, it remains that for a Specimen I produce some few passages, by which it will be easy for any to judge of the rest. But first I must faithfully profess that my purpose in all this is not any ways to detract, either from Xylander himself, or from the judgement of those learned men, by whom he hath been highly commended, but rather to follow (after my best ability:) Xylanders own example; whom for his great pains, and labour in his life-time to further and promote learning, I acknowledge to have deserved much honour & respect from all that love learning. I might add that I shall deal with him more ingenuously too, than some others have done, who take upon them to correct some corrupt places of Antoninus, which Xylander in his Translation, whereof they take no notice, had already plainly corrected. But now to Antoninus.  
Where Antoninus in his first Book saith, that he learned by his Father's example, that it is not impossible for a man that lives at the Court, 
B. I. N. XIV.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. To live almost a private man's life, for matter of worldly pomp, and magnificence, and all outward show and appearance (expressed by him before more at large:) and yet for all that, not to be a whit the more base and pusillanimous, or less stout or resolute in any public affairs that shall require the power and authority of a Prince and Commander: he translates it, 
Bas. Edit. pag. 174.  sed licere ei proximum privato homini habitum sumere: imò verò eum splendorem, eos qui principes rempublicam gerere velint, demissiores, segnioresque efficere. Which neither of itself affords any tolerable sense, and is as wide from Antoninus his meaning, as any thing that could have been conceived.  
In the eight book Antonius saith that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: 
Pas. Edit. 247.  That the common Nature (which was one of the many Synomina's, by which the Stoics did express God:) doth distribute all things in equality, as matter, form, duration, and the like; and then adds, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; This equality, thou shalt observe, not if absolutely thou shalt go to compare all the particulars of any one thing by themselves, with the particulars of another by themselves: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (it is printed, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that is, 
B. VIII. N. VI  but if thou consider all the particulars of any one thing together, with all the particulars of another, together likewise. His meaning is, that every natural thing in his own kind, that is, after a Geometrical, though not Arithmetical equality, is equally perfect: an Ant, as perfect in her quantity, as an Elephant and Whale, so great and vast, in theirs. As strong for her little proportion of body, and other circumstances of her nature, and as long lived, as any other creature; and so of all other things, if all things be well considered. And this doth not only extend to things of several kinds and natures; but even to those that are of the same. It is a very pleasant and useful speculation, as it may be prosecuted and applied, and it is very fully expressed by Antoninus. After this (as his manner is:) abruptly passing to another matter, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, saith he to himself (for so must the words be distinguished, which in the Greek are viciously joined and confounded— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) by way of objection, and then immediately answers, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Thou hast no time nor opportunity to read books; What then? Hast thou not time and opportunity to practise thyself not to do any wrong: (to thyself I understand it; that is, to thy soul according to Plato's doctrine, followed and expressed by Antoninus, in those words at the beginning of the second book, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. and again at the end of the same book more at large:) to resist and overcome all pains and pleasures, to contemn honour and vain glory, and not only not to be angry with those whom thou dost find unsensible, and unthankful towards thee, but also to have a care of them still, and of their welfare? Confer this with other like passages of Antoninus, 
See B. V N. V B. VII. N. XXXVIII.  both for form and matter, and you will think that nothing could be plainer. All this is expressed by Xylander: Considera autem aequalitatem eam, inventurum te si singulas res examines; sin unam cum universis conferas, non item. and then he leaves a blank, and begins a new line; Atqui licet libidinem arcere, voluptatibusque & doloribus superiorem esse, itemque gloriola: licet etiam stupidis & ingratis non irasci.  
Some three or four pages from the beginning of the seventh Book, 
B. VII. N. XVIII. Bas. edit. 234.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith Antoninus:) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 
* See Note 2. upon B. II.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; That an angry countenance, (saith he) is much against nature, hence mayst thou gather, because oftentimes it is the proper countenance of them that are at the point of death; [and a forerunner of death as it were.] But were it so that all anger and passion were so throughly quenched in thee, that it were altogether impossible that it should be kindled 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, as it is innocence; if that also shall be gone from thee, [the comfort of a good conscience, 
See B. III. N. VII. XI. XIII. B. VIII. N. II.  that thou dost all things to thy utmost power according to Reason:] what shouldest thou desire to live any longer for? All this is by Xylander contracted into these few words; Irati vultus omnino est contra naturam, quando saepius immoriendi sit praetextus, 
pag. 251.  aut ad extremum extinctus est, ut omnino inflammari non potuerit. Hoc ipso intelligere labora, iram a ratione esse alienam. Nam si etiam sensus peccati nullus erit, quae erit vivendi causa?  
At the end of the fift book, Antoninus having spoken of some vanities, adds 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. O man hast thou forgotten what things these are? yea, but howsoever, they are things that other men much care for; saith he, by way of objection; then answers, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Wilt thou therefore be a fool also? it is enough that thou hast already been one so long. And then passes to another matter: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Let death surprise a man where and when it will. It is more than it can do to make him therefore unhappy. He is an happy man, who (in his life time) dealeth unto himself a happy lot and portion. A happy lot and portion is; good inclinations of the soul; good motions, and desires, good actions. This passage cannot well be translated, because we have never a word answerable to the Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which Antoninus here elegantly, and acutely plays upon, which may signify, either in general a happy man, or in particular one that dies happily: but properly signifies one that hath obtained a good part and portion. Howsoever, to render it as it may be rendered, the sense is very tolerable. Now Xylander having found the words somewhat confused, and incorrect, (for it is printed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) translates them: Propteria tu quoque stultus es factus? Aliquando utcunque relictus, factus sum faelix: Faelicitas autem est, etc.  
At the end of the seventh Book, Antoninus his words are, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That the place must be so read and corrected (if any man make a question of it:) I will be judged by Antoninus himself B. VI N. 39 B. IX. 26. not to mention others, as Arrianus lib. 1. cap. 12. Ven. Edit. pag. 21. The nature of the Universe, saith he, did once certainly deliberate and resolve upon the creation of the world. Whatsoever therefore, since that, is and happens in the world, is either but a consequent of that first, and one deliberation; (by which all things by a necessary and uninterrupted series of causes, were ordained and appointed to be:) or if so be that this Ruling rational part of the world, takes any thought and care of things particular, They are surely his reasonable and principal creatures, that are the proper object of his particular care and providence. This often thought upon, will much conduce to thy tranquillity. I take 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here, as spoken of the same that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; to which purpose he hath other passages, that reasonable creatures are the chiefest creatures. Yet if any man would rather have it; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. reasonable creatures are his chiefest objects, I will not be against it, and it will be all one thing. But who could bear with Xylander his Interpretation, Universi natura olim ad mundum fabricandum se contulit: nunc autem vel omnia quae fiunt, consequentia fiunt sua: vel etiam in principiis eorum, ad quae se mundi gubernatrix natura confert, rationi nullum locum esse & consilio, tenendum est. Hoc si memoria teneas, multis in rebus animo ut sis tranquilliori, efficiet.  
An easy matter it were to add to these many more such passages, if I thought it as necessary, as it would be easy. They that shall take the pains (and it will be worth their pains I dare promise them) to compare diligently the Translations with Antoninus himself, will, I doubt not, before they have gone one or two Books over, be of my mind. I have of purpose made choice of such places especially, where I have made bold somewhat to correct the Text. I say bold, but no bolder I will maintain, than any reasonable man must, and aught, that doth undertake any such work. For I have not (to my knowledge:) by my Translation altered any one place in this kind in the whole book, but such as by certain proofs and demonstrations from Antoninus himself, I can maintain. Those places that I thought any thing doubtful, I have given account of them to the Reader in my Notes. And if I have left any for desperate, as either imperfect or not intelligible by me, I may truly say, that had I taken to myself but the tenth part of the liberty, which Xylander doth usually throughout the whole book; I needed not to have left any such places at all. And I make no question, but that in so doing, I might have given to many content and satisfaction good enough. But considering how much this liberty is commonly abused, and how prejudicial it proves to good Authors, I have rather chosen sometimes to say less than I might, then to give unto others an example of this bold kind of dealing with ancient Authors. The chiefest ground of all the obscurity in the Book, is, that Antoninus having been all his life an indefatigable student, and so read a world of writers of all sorts, his manner is in these his books, as he rend any thing that made for his present purpose, closely and briefly to allude unto it, by some short meditation upon it: sometimes barely to excerpt some words, which either he had an especial liking unto, or afterward intended further to meditate upon, without any mention of the place or Author from whence they are taken. Now many of these Authors being quite perished, many of his allusions so close and obscure, that though the Authors be yet extant, yet it is not easy to find from whence, or of whom, nor to what intent or purpose: it must not be wondered, if not only many places seem obscure, but some also of little worth and use; because, it doth not appear, what further use Antoninus had of them in his mind. Howsoever to them that are any thing versed in the writings of ancient Philosophers, Stoics especially, there will not occur many such places. If a man take but Arrianus, and Seneca, and compare them diligently with Antoninus, he will find a marvellous consent, and many obscure short places of Antoninus, illustrated and explained by their larger discourse. I have done it in some few places, which I thought could not well otherwise be understood. And for the rest, I leave them to every diligent Readers industry. Neither indeed would I have put myself to the labour of writing any Notes at all, if the book could as well have wanted them, as I could easily have found as well, or better to my mind, how to bestow my time. However as I thought some would be needful, so did I think also, that if in the former Books, I did give satisfaction to the Reader, I might afterwards be spared, and either be trusted myself, or trust to the Readers diligence and ability for the rest. Wheresoever by supplying a word or two in the Text, I thought I could help the sense, and illustrate the matter sufficiently; to spare myself a Note, and for the ease of the Reader, I have done it. All such additions to the Text, you shall find within two such [] marks included. And whereas those former passages by me produced wherein I except against the Latin Translation, are all such as could not be well translated without some correction of the Text, that it may not be thought, that in such places only it is amiss, I have for the further satisfaction of the Reader (the books as hath already been said, being so scarce and hard to become by:) taken occasion in my Notes, now and then to instance in some other passages, wherein there can be no such exception. In the Author himself I fear exception will be taken, at many places, as mere repetitions; at some others, wherein he seemeth to contradict what he had said before. But if the Readers consider, first, that what Antoninus wrote, he wrote it not for the public, but for his own private use; and secondly, that Antoninus his words are so intermingled every where with his Excerpta that it doth not well appear what is his own, and what is not; as in regard of the first consideration they will, I doubt not, allow him fare more liberty than otherwise were fitting: so in regard of the second, I presume they will yield both those many suspected repetitions in the Books, and those few supposed contradictions, the one perchance to be but several collections of one subject and to one purpose from several Authors; and the others certainly, rather the different opinions of different Authors concerning the same thing, than the contradictions of one man, inconstant to himself. And as for such places which may give offence, as repugnant to our Christian faith, and impious; as when he seemeth to speak doubtfully of God, and his Providence; and to ascribe all things to Fatal necessity, and the like: I shall but desire the Readers to remember who he was that wrote, and I hope they will desire no other satisfaction in this point. For that any Christian should expect from any out of the Church and without the Scriptures perfect sound knowledge in these high points would be no small wonder to me: it being both the happiness of every the meanest Christian, that he may know more in these mysteries, than the greatest Philosophers could ever, with all their wit and learning attain unto; and the proper privilege of the divine Scriptures, that from them only all solid truth in points of this nature, is to be expected. However that Antoninus may not want any just defence that his cause doth afford, the Reader must further be entreated not to judge of his opinions, by one or two short passages here and there, occurrent, which whether they be his or no (as we have already said) is hard to determine; but to have a respect to other more large, and peremptory passages concerning the same purpose elsewhere to be found. As for example concerning God and his Providence, to B. II. Num. VIII. B. V I. Num. XXXIX. etc. and concerning Fatal necessity not only to the same Lib. II. Num. VIII. but also to diverse other places, as B. VIII. Num. 6.27.30.32.46. etc. by which places as it doth plainly appear, that he doth exclude all manner of Necessity from humane wills and actions, so doth it appear by other passages, as Lib. 8 Num. 33. that he did not altogether exclude from all divine providence not even those actions of men, that are most contrary to the will of God: from which place moreover may appear what it is that he often calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Fate, or Destiny; which in his meaning is no other than (as by diverse other Philosophers also it is expounded) God's order and providence in matters of the world: to which purpose he doth also expound the word Fortune, B. I. Num. XVII. On the other side, although he doth every where very absolutely maintain this liberty of man's will, and that he was not acquainted with the mystery of original sin, and natural concupiscence; yet shall you not find in him those blasphemies, in exaltation of this humane power and liberty, which you shall in Seneca, and other Stoics: neither did he (it should seem, though but an Heathen:) so much rely upon it, but that he doth very piously commend prayers, as very powerful and effectual unto virtue. See lib. IX. Num. XL. Now if Antoninus himself being a Roman, for the propriety and facility of his expressions (wherein the Latin tongue, in matter of Philosophy, comes as short of the Greek, as the English doth of the Latin:) did in the composing of these his Books prefer the Greek tongue before his own mother tongue; no man I hope will expect, that all things should in this Translation run so smoothly, as in another kind of Translation happily they might. But herein I must confess my fear is for Antoninus, more than for myself. For first whereas he, being (I think) as well acquainted with ancient writers and philosophers as ever any was, doth every where very strictly and carefully observe their proper choice words and terms, which both make the sense itself more current, and pleasing; and for a Scholar to know them and to be acquainted with them, is in many respects very useful; This in the Translation must needs be lost, and by consequent so much lost to Antoninus, of his due praise and commendation. And secondly, whereas in all these his XII. books there be not many lines (if any:) which if well considered, will not be found either to be taken out of some ancient Author, or at least by way either of Exception, Confirmation, Illustration, and the like, to either passage or opinion of some ancient to have some relation; as to Scholars I know whatsoever is in this kind, be it otherwise what it will, cannot but be acceptable and useful, so to others I fear, many things for want of this use of it, which they are not capable of, will seem but dry and impertinent. In these two respects I cannot deny but I have done Antoninus some wrong to make him so vulgar, as I have done, and yet because I thought he might in other respects do good to any that should read him, if before the credit of one I have preferred the good of many I have but done what Antoninus himself (as by these his books may appear:) would have me or any others do in the like case.  
And now in the last place, if any shall by these my pains receive any content, my desire is that they would thank him, by whose encouragement especially I did undertake this little work, my Reverend Kind friend Dr. Lyndsell, the right worthy Bishop of Pee●…er-borough, a man for his singular worth and lear●…ing in all kind of literature, not to be named by any ●hat know Him, without expression of all due respect ●d admiration; and one to whom myself, and my ●dies of old have been much beholding, as I shall e●er most gladly acknowledge.   

M. AUREL. ANTONINUS THE ROMAN EMPEROR, HIS FIRST BOOK concerning HIMSELF: Wherein Antoninus recordeth, What and of whom, whether Parents, Friends or Masters; by their good examples, or good advice and counsel, he had learned: Divided into Numbers, or Sections.  
[Antoninus' Book VI Num. XLIII. Whensoever thou wilt rejoice thyself, think and meditate upon those good parts and especial gifts, which thou hast observed in any of them that live with thee: as industry in one, in another modesty, in another bountifulness, in another some other thing. For nothing can so much rejoice thee, as the resemblances and parallels of several virtues, eminent in the dispositions of them that live with thee; especially when all at once, as it were, they represent themselves unto thee. See therefore, that thou have them always in a readiness.]  
Num. I. OF my Grandfather Verus [I have learned] to be gentle and meek, and to refrain from all anger and passion. From the fame and memory of him that begot me [I have learned both] shamefastness, and manlike behaviour. Of my Mother [I have learned] to be religious, and bountiful; and to forbear, not only to do, but to intent any evil; to content myself with a spare diet, and to fly all such excess as is incidental to great wealth. Of my great Grandfather, both to frequent public schools and Auditories; and to get me good and able Teachers at home; and that I ought not to think much, if upon such occasions, I were at excessive charges.  
II. Of him that brought me up, not to be fond addicted to [either of the two great factions of the Coursers in the Circus, called] Prasini, and Veneti: [nor in the Amphitheatre] partially to favour [any of the Gladiators, or fencers, as either] the Parmularij, or the Secutoriani. Moreover, to endure labour; not to need many things. when I have any thing to do, to do it myself [rather then by others;] not to meddle with many businesses; and not easily to admit of any slander.  
III. Of Diognetus, not to busy myself about vain things, and not easily to believe those things, which are [commonly] spoken, by such as take upon them to work wonders, and by Sorcerers, [or, praestigiators, and impostors;] concerning the power of charms, and their driving out of Daemons, [or, evil spirits;] and the like. Not to keep coturnices [or, quails for the game;] nor to be mad after such things. Not to be offended with other men's liberty of speech, and to apply myself unto Philosophy. [Him also I must thank:] that ever I heard first Bacchius, then Tandasis, and Marcianus: and that I did write Dialogues in my youth, and that I took liking to the [Philosopher's] little couch and skins, and such other things, which by the Grecian discipline are proper [to those who profess philosophy.]  
iv To Rusticus I am beholding, that I first entered into the conceit that my life wanted some redress, and cure. And then, that I did not fall into the ambition of [ordinary] Sophists, either to write tracts concerning the [common] Theorems, or to exhort men [unto virtue and the study of philosophy] by [public] orations; as also that I never by way of ostentation did affect to show myself an active able man, [for any kind of bodily exercises.] And that I gave over the study of Rhetoric and Poetry, and of elegant neat language. That I did not use to walk about the house in my long robe, nor to do any such things. Moreover [I learned of him] to write letters without any affectation, or curiosity; such as that was, which by him was written to my Mother from Sinoessa: and to be easy and ready to be reconciled, and well pleased again with them that had offended me, as soon as any of them would be content to seek unto me again. To read with diligence; not to rest satisfied with a light and superficial knowledge, nor quickly to assent to things commonly spoken of: whom also I must thank that ever I lighted upon Epictetus his Hypomnemata [or, moral commentaries and commonefactions:] which also he gave me of his own.  
V From Apollonius, true liberty, and unvariable steadfastness, and not to regard any thing at all, though never so little, but right and reason: and always, whether in the sharpest pains, or after the loss of a child, or in long diseases, to be still the same man; who also was a present and visible example unto me, that it was possible for the same man to be both vehement and remiss: a man not subject to be vexed, and offended [with the incapacity of his Scholars and Auditors] in his lectures and expositions; and a true pattern of a man who of all his good gifts and faculties, lest esteemed in himself, that his excellent skill and ability to teach and persuade others the common Theorems, [and Maxims of the Stoic Philosophy.] Of him also I learned, how to receive favours and kindnesses (as commonly they are accounted:) from friends, so that I might not become obnoxious unto them, for them, nor more yielding [upon occasion, then in right I ought;] and yet so that I should not pass them neither, as an unsensible and unthankful man.  
VI Of Sextus, mildness and the pattern of a family governed with paternal affection; and a purpose to live according to nature: to be grave without affectation: to observe carefully the several dispositions of my friends, not to be offended with Idiots, nor unseasonably to set upon those that are carried with the vulgar opinions, with the Theorems, and Tenets of Philosophers: [his conversation] being an example how a man might accommodate himself to all men and companies; so that though his company were sweeter and more pleasing, than any flatterers cogging and fawning; yet was it at the same time most respected and reverenced: who also had a proper happiness, and faculty, rationally, and methodically to find out, and set in order all necessary Dogmata [or, determinations] and instructions for a man's life. A man without ever the least appearance of anger, or any other passion; able at the same time most exactly to observe the stoic Apathia, [or, unpassionatnesse] and yet to be most tender hearted: ever of good credit; and yet almost without any noise, or rumour: very learned, and yet making little show.  
VII. From Alexander the Grammarian, not hastily to reprehend others, and not reproachfully to take up any man for a barbarism, or a solecism, or any false pronunciation, but dextrously by way of answer, or testimony, or confirmation of the same matter (taking no notice of the word) to utter it as it should have been spoken; or by some other such close and indirect admonition, handsomely and civilly to tell him of it.  
VIII. Of Frontinus, to how much envy and fraud, and hypocrisy the state of a Tyrannous King is subject unto, & how they who are commonly called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [or patricii, i. nobly born] are in some sort incapable [or, void] of natural affection.  
IX. Of Alexander the Platonic, not often nor without great necessity to say, or to write to any man in a letter, I am not at leisure; nor in this manner still to put off those duties, which we own to our friends and acquaintances, (to every one in his kind:) under pretence of urgent affairs.  
X. Of Catulus, not to contemn any friend's expostulation, though unjust, but to strive to reduce him to his former disposition: Freely and hearty to speak well of all my Master's [upon any occasion;] as it is reported of Domitius, and Athenodotus, and to love my children with true affection.  
XI. From my Brother Severus, to be kind and loving to all them of my house and family; by whom also I came to the knowledge of Thraseas and Helvidius, and Caro, and Dio, and Brutus. He it was also that did put me in the first conceit and desire of an equal common wealth, administered by Justice and equality; and of a Kingdom wherein should be regarded nothing more than the good and welfare of the subjects. Of him also, to observe a constant tenor, (not interrupted, with any other cares and distractions,) in the study and esteem of Philosophy: to be bountiful and liberal in the largest measure; always to hope the best; and to be confident that my friends love me. In whom I moreover observed open dealing towards those whom he reproved at any time, and that his friends might without all doubt or much observation know what he would, 
See B. VIII. N. 58.  or would not; so open and plain was he.  
XII. From Claudius Maximus, in all things to endeavour to have power of myself, and in nothing to be carried about; to be cheerful and courageous in all sudden chances and accidents, as in sicknesses: to love mildness, and moderation, and gravity; and to do my business, whatsoever it be, thoroughly, and without querelousnesse. Whatsoever he said, all men believed him that as he spoke, so he thought, & whatsoever he did, that he did it with a good intent. His manner was, never to wonder at any thing; never to be in haste, and yet never slow: nor to be perplexed, or dejected, or at any time unseemly, [or, excessively] to laugh: nor to be angry, or suspicious, but ever ready to do good, and to forgive, and to speak truth; and all this, as one that seemed rather of himself to have been strait and right, then ever to have been rectified, or redressed: neither was there any man that ever thought himself undervalved by him, or that could find in his heart, to think himself a better man than he. He would also be very pleasant and gracious.  
XIII. In my Father, I observed his meekness; his constancy without wavering in those things, which after a due examination and deliberation, he had determined. How free from all vanity he carried himself in matter of honour and digni●ie, (as they are esteemed:) his laboriousness, ●nd assiduity, his readiness to hear any man, ●hat had aught to say, tending to any common ●ood: how generally and impartially he would give every man his due; his skill and knowledge, when rigour or extremity; when remissness or moderation was in season; how he did abstain from all unchaste love of youths; his moderate condescending to other men's occasions as an ordinary man, neither absolutely requiring of his friends, that they should wait upon him at his ordinary meals, nor that they should of necessity accompany him in his journeys; and that whensoever any business upon some necessary occasions was to be put off and omitted before it could be ended, he was ever found when he went about it again, the same man that he was before. His accurate examination of things in consultations, and patiented hearing of others. He would not hastily give over the search of the matter, as one easy to be satisfied with sudden notions and apprehensions. His care to preserve his friends; how neither at any time he would carry himself towards them with disdainful neglect, and grow weary of them; nor yet at any time be madly fond of them. His contented mind in all things, his cheerful countenance, his care to foresee things afar off, and to take order for the least, without any noise or clamour. Moreover, how all acclamations and flattery were repressed by him: how carefully he observed all things necessary to the government, and kept an account of the common expenses, and how patiently he did abide that he was reprehended by some for this his strict and rigid kind of dealing. How he was neither a superstitious worshipper of the gods, nor an ambitious pleaser of men, or studious of popular applause but sober in all things, and every where observant of that which was fitting, no affecter of novelties: in those things which conduced to his ease and convenience, (plenty whereof his fortune did afford him,) without pride and bragging, yet with all freedom and liberty: so that as he did freely enjoy them without any anxiety or affectation when they were present; so when absent, he found no want of them. Moreover, that he was never commended by any man, as either a learned acute man, or an obsequious officious man, or a fine Orator; but as a ripe mature man, a perfect sound man; one that could not endure to be flattered; able to govern both himself and others. Moreover, how much he did honour all true philosophers, without upbraiding those that were not so, his sociableness, his gracious and delightful conversation, but never unto satiety; his care of his body within bounds and measure, not as one that desired to live long, or overstudious of neatness, and elegancy, and yet not as one that did not regard it: so that through his own care and providence, he seldom needed any inward Physic, or outward applications: but especially how ingeniously he would yield to any that had obtained any peculiar faculty, as either Eloquence, or the knowledge of the laws, or of ancient customs, or the like; and how he concurred with them, in his best care and endeavour that every one of them might in his kind, for that wherein he excelled, be regarded and esteemed: and although he did all things carefully after the ancient customs of his forefathers, yet even of this was he not desirous that men should take notice, that he did imitate ancient customs. Again, how he was not easily moved and tossed up and down, but loved to be constant, both in the same places and businesses; and how after his great fits of headache, he would return fresh and vigorous to his wont affairs. Again, that secrets he neither had many, nor often, and such only as concerned public matters: His discretion and moderation, in exhibiting of the Spectacula, [or, public sights and shows for the pleasure and pastime of the people:] in public buildings, Congiaries, and the like. In all these things, having a respect unto men only as men, and to the equity of the things themselves, and not unto the glory that might follow. Never wont to use the baths at unseasonable hours; no builder; never curious, or solicitous, either about his meat, or about the workmanship, or colour of his clothes, or about any thing that belonged to external beauty. ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀. In all his conversation, fare from all inhumanity, all boldness, and incivility, all greediness and impetuosity; never doing any thing with such earnestness and intention, that a man could say of him, that he did sweat about it: but contrariwise, all things distinctly, as at leisure; without trouble; orderly, sound, and agreeably. A man might have applied that to him, which is recorded of Socrates, that he knew how to want, and to enjoy those things, in the want whereof, most men show themselves weak; and in the fruition, intemperate: But to hold out firm and constant, and to keep within the compass of true moderation and sobriety in either estate, is proper to a man, who hath a perfect and invincible soul; such as he shown himself in the sickness of Maximus.  
XIV. From the gods [I received] that I had good Grandfathers, and Parents, a good Sister, good masters, good domestics, loving kinsmen, almost all that I have; and that I never through haste, and rashness transgressed against any of them, notwithstanding that my disposition was such, as that such a thing (if occasion had been) might very well have been committed by me, but that it was the mercy of the gods, to prevent such a concurring of matters and occasions, as might make me to incur this blame. That I was not long brought up by the Concubine of my Father; that I preserved the flower of my youth. That I took not upon me to be a man before my time, but rather put it off longer than I needed. That I lived under the government of my Lord and Father, who would take away from me all pride and vainglory, and reduce me to that conceit and opinion that it was not impossible [for a Prince] to live in the Court without a troop of guards and followers, extraordinary apparel, such and such torches and statues, and other like, particulars of state and magnificence; but that a man may reduce and contract himself almost to the state of a private man, and yet for all that not to become the more base and remiss in those public matters and affairs, wherein power and authority is requisite. That I have had such a Brother, who by his own example might stir me up to think of myself; and by his respect and love, delight and please me. That I have got ingenuous children, and that they were not borne distorted, nor with any other natural deformity. That I was no great proficient in the study of Rhetoric and Poetry, and of other faculties, which perchance I might have dwelled upon, if I had found myself to go on in them with success. That I did by times prefer those, by whom I was brought up, to such places and dignities, which they seemed unto me most to desire; & that I did not put them off with hope and expectation, that (since that they were yet but young:) I would do the same hereafter. That I ever knew Apollonius, and Rusticus, and Maximus. That I have had occasion often and effectually to consider and meditate with myself, concerning that life which is according to nature, what the nature and manner of it is: So that as for the gods and such Suggestions, helps and inspirations, as might be expected from them, nothing did hinder, but that I might have begun long before to live according to nature; or that even now that I was not yet partaker and in present possession of that life, that I myself (in that I did not observe those inward motions, and suggestions, yea and almost plain and apparent instructions and admonitions of the gods,) was the only cause of it. That my body in such a life, hath been able to hold out so long. That I never had to do with Benedicta and Theodotus, yea and afterwards when I fell into some fits of love, I was soon cured. That having been often displeased with Rusticus, I never did him any thing, for which afterwards I had occasion to repent: That it being so that my Mother was to die young, yet she lived with me all her latter years. That as often as I had a purpose to help and secure any that either was poor, or fallen into some present necessity, I never was answered [by my Officers] that there was not ready money enough to do it; and that I myself never had occasion to require the like succour from any other. That I have such a wife, so obedient, so loving, so ingenuous. That I had choice of sit and able men, to whom I might commit the bringing up of my children. That by dreams I have received help, as for other things, so in particular, how I might stay my casting of blood, and cure my dizzenesse, and how thou shouldst make use of that in Cajeta [or, when thou wert as Cajeta.] And when I did first apply myself to Philosophy, that I did not fall into the hands of some sophists, or spent my time either in reading the manifold volumes [of ordinary Philosophers,] nor in practising myself in the solution of arguments and fallacies, nor dwelled upon the studies of the Metheores, [and other natural curiosities.] All these things without the assistance of the gods, and 
* See N. XVII  fortune, could not have been.  
XV. In the Country of the Quadi at Granua, these.  
Betimes in the morning say to thyself, This day I shall have to do with an idle curious man, with an unthankful man, a railer, a crafty false, or an envious man; an unsociable uncharitable man. All these ill qualities have happened unto them, through ignorance of that which is truly good, and truly bad. But I that understand the nature of that which is good, that it [only] is to be desired; and of that which is bad, that it [only] is [truly] odious and shameful: who know moreover, that this transgressor, whosoever he be, is my kinsman, not by the same blood and seed, but by participation of the same reason, and of the same divine particle; How can I either be hurt by any of those, since it is not in their power, to make me incur any thing that is [truly] reproachful? or angry, and ill affected towards him, who by nature is so near unto me? for we are all borne to be fellow workers, as the feet, the hands, and the eyelids; as the rows of the upper and under teeth: for such therefore to be in opposition, is against nature; and what is it to chafe at, and to be averse from, but to be in opposition?  
X VI. Whatsoever I am, is either flesh, or life, or [that which we commonly call] the mistress & overruling part of man; [Reason.] Away with thy books, suffer not thy mind any more to be distracted, and carried too and fro; 
* See B. III. N. XV.  for it will not be; but as even now ready to die, think little of thy flesh: blood, bones, and a skin; a pretty piece of knit and twisted work, consisting of nerves, veins and arteries; [think no more of it, than so.] And as for thy life, consider what it is: a wind; not one constant wind neither, but every moment of an hour let out, and sucked in again. The third, is thy ruling part; and here consider; Thou art an old man; suffer not that excellent part to be brought in subjection, and to become slavish: suffer it not to be drawn up and down with unreasonable and 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See before Note 17.  unsociable lusts and motions, as it were with wires and nerves; suffer it not any more, either to repine at any thing now present, or to fear and fly any thing to come, which the Destiny hath appointed thee.  
XV II. Whatsoever proceeds from the gods [immediately,] 
See B. III. Num. XII.  that [any man will grant] totally depends from their divine providence. As for those things that [are commonly said to] happen by Fortune, even those must be conceived to have dependence from nature, or from that first and general connexion, and concatenation of all those things, which [more apparently] by the divine providence are administered and brought to pass. All things flow from thence: And whatsoever it is that is, is both necessary, and conducing to the whole; part of which thou art: and whatsoever it is that is requisite and necessary for the preservation of the general, must [of necessity] for every particular nature, be good and behooveful. And as for the whole, it is preserved, as by the perpetual mutation and conversion of the simple Elements one into another, so also by the mutation, and alteration of things mixed and compounded. Let these things suffice thee; Let them be a ways unto thee, as thy general rules and precepts. As for thy thirst after books, away with it with all speed, that thou die not murmuring and complaining, but truly meek and well satisfied, and from thy heart thankful unto the gods.   

THE SECOND BOOK.  
REmember how long thou hast already put off these things, and how often a certain day and hour as it were, having been set unto thee by the gods, thou hast neglected it. It is high time for thee to understand the true nature both of the world, whereof thou art a part; and of that Lord and Governor of the World from whom, as a channel from the spring, thou thyself didst flow: And that there is but a certain limit of time appointed unto thee, which if thou shalt not make use of to calm and allay the many distempers of thy soul, it will pass away and thou with it, and never after return.  
II. Let it be thy earnest and incessant care as a Roman and a man to perform whatsoever it is that thou art about, with true and unfeigned gravity, natural affection, freedom and justice: and as for all other cares, and imaginations, how thou mayest ease thy mind of them. Which thou shalt do; if thou shalt go about every action as thy last action, free from all vanity, all passionate and wilful aberration from reason, and from all hypocrisy, and self-love, and dislike of those things, which by the 
* See Pref. fol. 26.  fates [or, appointment of God] have happened unto thee. Thou seest that those things, which for a man to hold on in a prosperous course, and to live a divine life, are requisite and necessary, are not many, for the gods will require no more of any man, that shall but keep and observe these things.  
III. Do, 
See Pref. fol. 18. and Num. 14. of this Bo:  Soul, do; abuse and contemn thyself; yet a while and the time for thee to respect thyself, will be at an end. Every man's happiness depends from himself, but behold thy life is almost at an end, whiles affording thyself no respect, thou dost make thy happiness to consist in the souls, and conceits of other men.  
IU. Why should any of these things that happen externally, so much distract thee? Give thyself leisure to learn some good thing; and cease roving and wand'ring to and fro. Thou must also take heed of another kind of wand'ring, for they are idle in their actions, who toil and labour in this life, and have no certain scope to which to direct all their motions, and desires.  
V For not observing the state of another man's soul, scarce was ever any man known to be unhappy. But whosoever they be that intent not, and guide not by reason and discretion the motions of their own souls, they must of necessity be unhappy.  
VI These things thou must always have in mind: What is the nature of the Universe, and what is mine in particular: This unto that what relation it hath: what kind of part, of what kind of Universe it is: And that there is no body that can hinder thee, but that thou mayest always, both do and speak those things, which are agreeable to that Nature whereof thou art a part.  
VII. Theophrastus, where he compares sin with sin (as after a vulgar sense such things I grant may be compared:) says well and like a philosopher, that those sins are greater which are committed through lust, than those which are committed through anger. For he that is angry seems with a kind of grief and close contraction of himself, to turn away from reason: but he that sins through lust, being overcome by pleasure, doth in his very sin bewray a more impotent, and unmanlike disposition. Well then and like a philosopher doth he say, that he of the two is the more to be condemned, that sins with pleasure, than he that sins with grief. For indeed this latter may seem first to have been wronged, and so in some manner through grief thereof to have been forced to be angry, whereas he who through lust doth commit any thing, did of himself merely resolve upon that action.  
VIII. Whatsoever thou dost affect, whatsoever thou dost project, so do, and so project all, as one who, for aught thou knowest, may at this very present depart out of this life. And as for death, if there be any gods, it is no grievous thing to leave the society of men. The gods will do thee no hurt thou mayst be sure. But if it be so that there be no gods, or that they take no care of the world, why should I desire to live in a world void of gods, and of all divine providence? But gods there be certainly, and they take care for the world; and as for those things which be truly evil, as vice and wickedness; such things they have put in a man's own power, that he might avoid them if he would: and had there been any thing besides that had been truly bad and evil, they would have had a care of that also, that a man might have avoided it. But why should that be thought to hurt and prejudice a man's life in this world, which cannot any ways make man himself the better, or the worse in his own person? Neither must we think that the Nature of the Universe did either through ignorance pass these things, or if not as ignorant of them, yet as unable either to prevent, or better to order and dispose them. It cannot be that she through want either of power or skill, should have committed such a thing, as to suffer all things both good and bad, equally and promiscuously to happen unto all both good and bad. As for life therefore, and death, honour and dishonour, labour and pleasure, riches and poverty, all these things happen unto men indeed, both good and bad, equally; but as things which of themselves are neither good nor bad; because of themselves, neither shameful nor praiseworthy.  
IX. Consider how quickly all things are dissolved and resolved: the bodies and substances themselves, into the matter and substance of the world: and their memories into the general Age and Time of the world. Consider the nature of all worldly sensible things; of those especially, which either ensnare by pleasure, or son their irksomeness are dreadful, or for their outward lustre and show are in great esteem and request, how vile and contemptible, how base and corruptible, how destitute of all true life and being they are.  
X. It is the part of a man endowed with a good understanding faculty, to consider what they themselves are in very deed, from whose bare conceits and voices, honour and credit do proceed: as also what it is to die, and how if a man shall consider this by itself alone, to die, and separate from it in his mind all those things which with it usually represent themselves unto us, he can conceive of it no otherwise, then as of a work of nature, and he that fears any work of nature, is a very child. Now death, it is not only a work of Nature, but also conducing to Nature.  
XI. Consider with thyself how man, and by what part of his, is joined unto God, and how that part of man is affected, when it is said to be diffused. There is nothing more wretched than that soul, which in a kind of circuit compasseth all things▪ searching (as he saith) even the very depths of the Earth; and by all signs and conjectures prying into the very thoughts of other men's souls; and yet of this is not sensible, that it is sufficient for a man to apply himself wholly, and to confine all his thoughts and cares to the tendance of that Spirit, which is within him, and truly and really to serve him. His service doth consist in this, that a man keep himself pure from all violent passion, and evil affection, from all rashness and vanity, and from all manner of discontent, either in regard of the gods, or men. For indeed whatsoever proceeds from the gods, deserves respect for their worth and excellency; and whatsoever proceeds from men, as they are our kinsmen, should by us be entertained, with love, always; sometimes, as proceeding from their ignorance of that which is truly good and bad, (a blindness no less, then that by which we are not able to discern between white and black:) with a kind of pity and compassion also.  
XII. If thou shouldst live 3000, or as many 10000 of years, yet remember this, that man can part with no life properly, save with that little part of life, which he now lives: and that which he lives, is no other, then that which at every instant he parts with. That than which is longest of duration, and that which is shortest, come both to one effect. For although in regard of that which is already past there may be some inequality, yet that time which is now present and in being, is equal unto all men. And that being it which we part with [whensoever we die,] it doth manifestly appear, that it can be but a moment of time, that we then part with. For as for that which is either past or to come, a man cannot be said properly to part with it. For how should a man part with that which he hath not? These two things therefore thou must remember. First, that all things in the world from all eternity, by a perpetual revolution of the same times and things ever continued and renewed, are of one kind and nature; so that whether for a 100 or 200 hundred years only, or for an infinite space of time, a man see those things which are still the same, it can be no matter of great moment. And secondly, that that life which any the longest liver, or the shortest liver parts with, is for length and duration the very same, for that only which is present, is that, which either of them can lose, as being that only which they have, for that which he hath not, no man can truly be said to lose.  
XIII. Remember that all is but opinion and conceit, for those things are plain and apparent, which were spoken unto Monimus the Cynic, and as plain and apparent is the use that may be made of those things, if that which is true and serious in them, be received as well as that which is sweet and pleasing.  
XIV. A man's soul doth wrong and disrespect itself first and especially, when as much as in itself lies it becomes an Aposteme, and as it were an excrescency of the world, for to be grieved and displeased with any thing that happens in the world, is direct apostasy from the Nature of the Universe, part of which, all particular Natures of the world, are: Secondly, when she either is averse from any man, or lead by contrary desires and affections, tending to his hurt and prejudice; such as are the souls of them that are angry. Thirdly, when she is overcome by any pleasure or pain. Fourthly, when she doth dissemble, and covertly and falsely, either doth or saith any thing. Fiftly, when she doth either affect or endeavour any thing to no certain end, but rashly and without due ratiocination, and consideration, how consequent or inconsequent it is to the common end. For even the least things ought not to be done, without relation unto the end; and the end of the reasonable creatures is, to follow and obey him, who is the reason as it were, and the law of this great City, and ancient Commonwealth.  
XV. The time of a man's life is as a point; the substance of it ever flowing, the sense obscure: and the whole composition of the body, tending to corruption. His soul is restless, fortune uncertain, and same doubtful, to be brief, as a stream so are all things belonging to the body; as a dream, or as a smoke, so are all that belong unto the soul. Our life is a warfare, and a mere pilgrimage. Fame after life, is no better than oblivion. What is it then that will adhere and follow? One only thing, Philosophy. And philosophy doth consist in this, for a man to preserve that Spirit which is within him, from all manner of contumelies and injuries, and above all pains or pleasures; never to do anything either rashly, or feignedly, or hypocritically: Wholly to depend from himself, and his own proper actions: all things that happen unto him to embrace contentedly, as coming from Him from whom He Himself also came; and above all things, with all meekness and a calm cheerfulness, to expect death, as being nothing else, but the resolution of those Elements, of which every creature is composed. And if the Elements themselves suffer nothing by this their perpetual conversion of one into another, that dissolution, and alteration, which is so common unto all, why should it be feared by any? Is not this according to Nature? But nothing that is according to nature, can be evil.  
Whilst I was at Carnuntus.   

THE THIRD BOOK.  
A Man must not only consider how daily his life wasteth and decreaseth, but this also, that if he live long, he cannot be certain, whether his understanding shall continue so able and sufficient, for either discreet consideration, in matter of businesses; or for contemplation: it being the thing, whereon true knowledge of things both divine and humane, doth depend. For if once he shall begin to dote, his respiration, nutrition, his imaginative, and appetitive [and other natural faculties, may still continue the same:] he shall find no want of them. But how to make that right use of himself that he should, how to observe exactly in all things that which is right and just; how to redress and rectify all [wrong, or sudden:] apprehensions and imaginations, and even of this particular, whether he should live any longer or no, to consider duly: for all such things, wherein the best strength, and vigour of the mind is most requisite; [his power and ability] will be passed and gone. Thou must hasten therefore; not only because thou art every day nearer unto death then other, but also because that intellective faculty in thee, whereby thou art enabled to know the true nature of things, and to order all thy actions by that knowledge, doth daily waste and decay: [or, may fail thee before thou die.]  
II. This also thou must observe, that whatsoever it is that naturally doth happen to things natural, hath somewhat in itself, that is pleasing and delightful, as a [great] loaf when it is baked, some parts of it cleave as it were, and part asunder [and make the crust of it rugged and unequal,] and yet those parts of it, though in some sort it be against the art and intention of baking itself, that they are thus cleft and parted, [which should have been, and were first made all even and uniform,] they become it well nevertheless, and have a certain peculiar property, to stir the appetite. So figs are accounted fairest and ripest then, when they begin to shrink, and whither as it were. So ripe olives, when they are next to putrefaction, then are they in their proper beauty. The hanging down of grapes, the brow of a Lion; the froth of a foaming wild boar, and many other like things, though by themselves considered, they are fare from any beauty, yet because they happen naturally, they both are comely, and delightful; so that if a man shall with a profound mind and apprehension, consider all things in the world, even among all those things which are but mere accessories, and natural appendices as it were, there will scarce appear any thing unto him, wherein he will not find matter of pleasure and delight. So will he behold with as much pleasure the true rictus of wild beasts, as those which by skilful painters, and other artificers are imitated. So will he be able to perceive the proper ripeness and beauty of old age, whether in man, or woman: and whatsoever else it is that is beautiful and alluring in whatsoever is, with chaste and continent eyes, he will soon find out and discern. Those and many other things will he discern, not credible unto every one, but unto them only who are truly and familiarly acquainted, both with nature itself, and all natural things [or, and all the works of nature]  
III. Hypocrates having cured many sicknesses, fell sick himself and died. The Chaldeans [and Astrologians] having foretold the deaths of diverse, were afterwards themselves surprised by the fates. Alexander and Pompeius, and Caius Caesar, having destroyed so many towns, and cut off in the field so many thousands both of horse and foot, yet they themselves at last, were fain to part with their own lives. Heraclitus having written so many natural tracts concerning the [last & general] conflagration of the world, died afterwards all filled with water within, and all bedaubed with dirt and dung without. Lice killed Democritus; and Socrates, another sort of vermin; [wicked ungodly men.] How then stands the case? Thou hast taken ship, thou hast sailed, thou art come to land, go out, if to another life, there also shalt thou find gods, who are every where. If all life and sense shall cease, then shalt thou cease also to be subject to either pains, or pleasures; and to serve and tend this vile cottage; so much the viler, by how much that which ministers unto it doth excel; the one being a rational substance, and a spirit, the other nothing but earth and blood.  
iv Spend not the remnant of thy days in thoughts and fancies concerning other men, when it is not in relation to some common good, when by it thou art hindered from some other [better] work. That is, [spend not thy time] in thinking, what such a man doth, and to what end: what he saith, and what he thinks, and what he is about, and such other things [or, curiosities] which make a man to roave and wander from the care and observation of that part of himself, which is rational, and overruling. See therefore in the whole series and connexion of thy thoughts, that thou be careful to prevent whatsoever is idle and impertinent: but especially, whatsoever is curious and malicious: and thou must use thyself to think only of such things, of which if a man upon a sudden should ask thee, what it is that thou art now thinking, thou mayest answer This, and That; freely and boldly, that so by thy thoughts it may presently appear that all in thee is sincere, and peaceable; as becometh one that is made for society, and regards not pleasures, nor gives way to any voluptuous imaginations at all [or, to any longing thoughts or desires at all▪] free from all contentiousness, envy, and suspicion, and from whatsoever else thou wouldst blush to confess, thy thoughts were set upon. He that is such, is he surely that doth not put off to lay hold on that which is best indeed, a very Priest and Minister of the gods, well acquainted and in good correspondence with Him especially that is seated and placed within himself, [as in a Temple and sacrarie:] To whom also he keeps and preserves himself unspotted by pleasure, undaunted by pain; free from any manner of wrong, or contumely, [by 
a See B. II. N. XIV.  himself offered unto himself:] not capable of any evil [
b See B. IU. N. VII.  from others:] a wrestler of the best sort, and for the highest prize, that he may not be cast down by any passion, or affection of his own; deeply died and drenched in righteousness, embracing and accepting with his whole heart, whatsoever either happeneth or is allotted unto him. One who not often, nor without some great necessity tending to some public good, mindeth what any other, either speaks, or doth, or purposeth: for those things only that are in his own power [or, that are truly his own;] are the objects of his employments, and his thoughts are ever taken up with those things, which of the whole Universe are by the Fates [or, Providence] destinated and appropriated unto Himself. Those things that are his own, and in his own power, he himself takes order for that they be good: and as for those that happen unto him, he believes them to be so. For that lot and portion which is assigned to every one, as it is unavoidable and necessary, so is it always profitable. He remembers beside that whatsoever partakes of reason, is a kin unto him, and that to care for all men generally, is agreeing to the nature of a man: But as for honour and praise, that they, ought not generally to be admitted and accepted of from all, but from such only, who live according to nature. As for them that do not, what manner of men they be at home, or abroad; day, or night, how conditioned themselves with what manner of conditions [or, with men of what conditions] they moil and pass away the time together, he knoweth, and remembers right well, he therefore regards not such praise and approbation, as proceeding from them, who cannot like and approve themselves.  
V Do nothing against thy will, nor contrary to the community, nor without due examination, nor with reluctancy. Affect not to set out thy thoughts with curious neat language. Be neither a great talker, nor a great undertaker. Moreover, let thy god that is in thee to rule over thee, find by thee, that he hath to do with a man; and aged man; a sociable man; a Roman; a Prince; one that hath ordered his life, as one that expecteth, as it were, nothing but the sound of the trumpet, sounding a retreat to departed out of this life with all expedition. One who [for his word or actions] neither needs an oath, nor any man to be a witness.  
VI To be cheerful, and to stand in no need, either of other men's help or attendance, or of that rest and tranquillity, which thou must be beholding to others for. Rather like one that is strait of himself [or, 
See B. I. N. XII.  hath ever been strait] then one that hath been rectified.  
VII. If thou shalt find any thing in this mortal life better than righteousness, than truth, temperance, fortitude, and in general better than a mind contented both with those things which according to right and reason she doth, and in those, which without her will and knowledge happen unto thee by the Providence; If I say, thou canst find out any thing better than this; apply thyself unto it with thy whole heart, and that which is best wheresoever thou dost find it, enjoy [freely.] But if nothing thou shalt find worthy to be preferred to that Spirit which is within thee; if nothing better than to subject unto thee thine own lusts and desires, and not to give way to any fancies or imaginations before thou hast duly considered of them, nothing better than to withdraw thyself (to use Socrates his words) from all sensuality, and submit thyself unto the gods, and to have care of all men in general: If thou shalt find that all other things in comparison of this, are but vile, and of little moment; then give not way to any other thing, which being once, [though but] affected and inclined unto, it will no more be in thy power, without all distraction [as thou oughtest] to prefer and to pursue after that good, which is thine own and thy proper good. For it is not lawful, that any thing that is of another [and inferior] kind and nature, be it what it will, as either popular applause, or honour, or riches, or pleasures; should be suffered to confront and contest as it were, with that which is rational, and operatively good. For all these things, if once though but for a while, they begin to please, they presently prevail, and pervert a man's mind [or, turn a man from the right way.] Do thou therefore I say absolutely and freely make choice of that which is best, and stick unto it. Now, that [they say] is best, which is most profitable. If they mean profitable to man as he is a rational man, stand thou to it, and maintain it; but if they mean profitable, as he is a creature [only] reject it; and from this thy Tenet, and Conclusion keep off carefully, all plausible shows, and colours of external appearance, 
G●eeke 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See B. VI Num. XI.  all plausible shows, and colours of external appearance, that thou mayst be able to discern things rightly.  
VIII. Never esteem of any thing as profitable, which shall ever constrain thee either to break thy faith, or to lose thy modesty; to hate any man, to suspect, to curse, to dissemble, to lust after any thing, that requireth the secret of walls, or veils. But he that preferreth before all things his Rational part and Spirit, and the sacred mysteries of virtue which issueth from him, he shall never lament and exclaim; never sigh, he shall never want either solitude or company: and which is chiefest of all, he shall live without either desire or fear. And as for life, whether for a long or short time he shall enjoy his soul thus compassed about with a body, he is altogether indifferent. For if even now he were to departed, he is as ready for it, as for any other action, which may be performed with modesty, and decency. For all his life long, this is his only care, that his mind may always be occupied in such intentions and objects, as are proper to a rational sociable creature.  
IX. In the mind that is [once truly] disciplined and purged, thou canst not find any thing, either foul or impure, or (as it were) festered: nothing that is either servile, or affected: no [partial] tie; no [malicious] averseness; nothing obnoxious; nothing concealed. The life of such one, Death can never surprise as imperfect; as of an Actor, that should dye before he had ended, or the play itself were at an end, as a man might speak.  
X. Use thine opinative faculty with all honour and respect, for in her [indeed] is all: that thy opinion do not beget in thy understanding any thing contrary to either Nature, or the proper constitution of a Rational creature. The end and object of a Rational constitution, is, to do nothing rashly, to be kindly affected towards men, and in all things willingly to submit unto the gods. Casting therefore all other things aside, keep thyself to these few, and remember withal that no man properly, can be said to live more than that which is now present, which is but a moment of time. Whatsoever is beside either is already past, or incertain. The time therefore that any man doth live, is but a little, and the place where he liveth, is but a very little corner of the earth, and the greatest fame that can remain of a man after his Death, even that is but little, and that too, such as it is whilst it is, is by the succession of silly mortal men preserved, who likewise shall shortly die, [and even whiles they live] know not what in very deed they themselves are: and much less can know one, who long before is dead and gone.  
XI. To these ever present helps and mement●●s, let one more be added, Ever to make a particular description and delineation as it were of every object that presents itself to thy mind, 
See B. VI Num. XI.  that thou mayst wholly and throughly contemplate it, in its own proper nature, bare and naked; wholly, and severally; divided into its several parts and quarters: and then by thyself in thy mind, to call both it, and those things of which it doth consist, and in which it shall be resolved, by their own proper true Names, and appellations. For there is nothing so effectual to beget true Magnanimity, as to be able truly and methodically to examine and consider all things that happen in this life, and so to penetrate into their natures, that at the same time, this also may concur in our apprehensions: What is the true use of it? and what is the true nature of this Universe, to which it is useful? How much in regard of the Universe may it be esteemed? how much in regard of man, a Citiren of the supreme City, of which all other Cities in the World, are as it were but houses and families?  
XII. What is this, that now my fancy is set upon? of what things doth it consist? how long can it last? which of all the virtues, is the proper virtue for this present use? as whether meekness, fortitude, truth, faith, sincerity, contentation, or any of the rest? 
See B. I. N. XVII.  Of every thing therefore thou must use thyself to say, This [immediately] comes from God, This by that fatal connexion and concatenation of things, or (which almost comes to one:) by some coincidentall casualty. And as for this, it proceeds from my neighbour, my kinsman, my fellow: through his ignorance indeed, because he knows not what is truly natural unto him: But I know it, and therefore carry myself towards him according to the natural law of fellowship; that is kindly, and justly. As for those things that of themselves are altogether indifferent, as in my best judgement I conceive every thing to deserve more or less, so I carry myself towards it.  
XIII. If thou shalt intent that which is present, following the rule of right and reason carefully, solidly, meekly, and shalt not intermix any other businesses, but shalt study this [only] to preserve thy Spirit impolluted, and pure, and shalt cleave unto Him without either hope or fear of any thing, in all things that thou shalt either do or speak, contenting thyself with Heroical truth, thou shalt live happily; and from this, there is no man that can hinder thee.  
XIV. As Physicians [and Surgeon's] have always their instruments ready at hand for all sudden cures; so have thou always thy Dogmata in a readiness for the knowledge of things, both divine and humane: and whatsoever thou dost, even in the smallest things that thou dost, thou must ever remember that mutual relation, an connexion that is between these two [things divine, and things humane.] For without relation unto God, thou shalt never speed in any worldly actions; nor on the other side in any divine, [without some respect had to things humane.]  
XV. Be not deceived; For thou shalt never live to read thy moral Commentaries, nor the Acts of the [famous] Romans and Grecians; nor those Excerpta from several Books; all which thou hadst provided and laid up for thyself, against thine old age. Hasten therefore to an end, and giving over all vain hopes, help they self [in time] if thou carest for thyself, as thou oughtest to do.  
XVI. To 
a See B. X. N. XV. B. XI. N. XVI.  steal, to 
b See B. IU. N. XXIX.  sow, to buy, to be 
c See B. IU. N. III.  at rest, to 
d See B. IU. N. XXIV. B. VIII N. XXXVI.  see what is to be done (which is not seeneby the eyes, but by another kind of sight:) what these words mean, and how many ways to be understood, they do not understand. The Body, the Soul, the Understanding. [As] the senses [naturally,] belong to the body, and the desires and affections to the soul, so do the dogmata to the understanding.  
XVII. To be capable of fancies and imaginations, is common to man and beast. To be violently drawn and moved by the lusts and desires [of the soul,] is proper to wild beasts and monsters; such as Phalaris, and Nero were. To follow reason for ordinary duties and actions, 
See Pref. fol. 12. and Notes upon Book VIII. 1.  is common to them also, who believe not that there be any gods, and for [their advantage would make no conscience] to betray their own Country; and who when once the doors be shut upon them, dare do any thing. If therefore all things else be common to these likewise, it follows, that for a man to like and embrace all things that happen and are destinated unto him, and not to trouble and molest that Spirit which is seated in the temple of his own breast, with a multitude of [vain] fancy's, and imaginations, but to keep him propitious and to obey him as a god, never either speaking any thing contrary to truth, or doing any thing contrary to Justice; is the only true property of a good man. And such a one, though no man should believe that he liveth as he doth, either sincerely and conscionably; or cheerful and contentedly; yet is he neither with any man at all angry for it, nor diverted by it from the way that leadeth to the end of his life, through whih a man must pass pure, ever ready to departed, and willing of himself without any compulsion to fit and accommodate himself to his proper lot and calling.   

THE FOURTH BOOK.  
THat inward mistress part [of man] if it be in its own true natural temper, is towards all worldly chances and events ever so disposed and affected, that it will easily turn and apply itself to that which may be, and is within its own power to compass, [when that cannot be which at first it intended.] For it never doth absolutely addict and apply itself to any one object, but whatsoever it is that it doth now intent and prosecute, it doth prosecute it with exception and reservation; so that whatsoever it is that falls out contrary [to its first intentions] even that afterwards it makes its proper object. Even as the fire when it prevails upon those things that are in his way; by which things indeed a little fire would have been quenched, but a great fire doth soon turn to its own nature, and so consume whatsoever comes in his way: yea by those very things it is made greater and greater.  
II. Let nothing be done rashly, and at random, but all things according to the most exact and perfect rules of art.  
III. They seek for themselves private retiring places, 
See B. X. 24.  as country villages, the sea shore, mountains; yea thou thyself art wont to long much after such places. But all this [thou must know] proceeds from simplicity in the highest degree. At what time soever thou wilt, it is in thy power, to retire into thyself, and to be at rest, and free from all businesses. A man cannot any whither retire better, then to his own soul. He especially who is before hand provided of such things within, which whensoever he doth withdraw himself to look in, may presently afford unto him perfect ease and tranquillity. By tranquillity I understand a decent orderly disposition and carriage, free from all confusion and tumultuousness. Afford then thyself this retiring continually, and thereby refresh and renew thyself. Let these [precepts] be brief and fundamental, which as soon as thou dost call them to mind, may suffice thee to purge thy soul throughly, and to send thee away well pleased with those things whatsoever they be, which now again [after this short withdrawing of thy soul into herself:] thou dost return unto. For what is it that thou art offended at? Can it be at the wickedness of men, when thou dost call to mind this conclusion, that all reasonable creatures are made one for another? and that it is part of justice to bear with them? and that it is against their wills that they offend? and how many already, who [once likewise] prosecuted their enmities, suspected, hated, and fiercely contended, are now [long ago] stretched out, and reduced unto Ashes? It is time for thee to make an end. As for those things which among the common chances of the world happen unto thee as thy particular lot and portion, canst thou be displeased with any of them, when thou dost call that [our ordinary] Dilemma to mind, Either a Providence, or [Democritus his] Atoms; and with it, whatsoever we brought to prove, that the whole world is as it were one City? And as for thy body, what canst thou fear, if thou dost consider that thy Mind and Understanding, when once it hath recollected itself, and knows its own power, hath in this life and Breath, (whether 
* See B. V N. XX. B. VII. XX XVII. B. IX. XLI.  it run smoothly and gently, or whether harshly and rudely,) no interest at all, but is altogether indifferent: and whatsoever else thou hast heard and assented unto concerning either pain or pleasure? But the care of thine honour and reputation will perchance distract thee? How can that be, if thou dost look back, and consider both how quickly all things that are, are forgotten, and what an immense chaos of eternity was before, and will follow after all things: and the vanity of praise, and the inconstancy and variableness of humane Judgements and opinions, and the narrowness of the place, wherein it is limited and circumscribed? For the whole earth is but as one point; and of it, this inhabited part of it, is but a very little part; and of this part, how many in number, and what manner of men are they, that will commend thee? What remains then, but that thou often put in practise this kind of retiring of thyself, to this little part of thyself; and above all things, keep thyself from distraction, and intent not any thing vehemently; but be free and consider all things, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  as a man, [whose proper object is virtue:] as a 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See Note 14. and 18 upon B. I. And B. V. N VI.  man [whose true nature is to be kind and sociable] as a Citizen; as a mortal creature. Among other things, which to consider, and look into thou must use to withdraw thyself, let those two be among the most obvious and at hand. One, that the things or objects themselves, reach not unto the soul, but stand without still, and quiet, and that it is from the opinion only which is within, that all the tumult and all the trouble doth proceed. The next, that all these things, which now thou seest, shall within a very little while be changed, and be no more: and ever call to mind, how many changes and alterations in the world thou thyself hast already been an eye witness of in thy time. This world is mere change, and this life, opinion.  
iv if to understand and to be reasonable be common unto all men, then is that reason, for which we are termed reasonable, common unto all. If reason in general, then is that reason also, which prescribeth what is to be done and what not, common unto all. If that, than Law. If Law, then are we fellow Citizens. If so, then are we partners in some one common weal. If so, than the world is as it were a City. For which other common weal is it, that all men can be said to be members of? From this common City it is, that Understanding, Reason, and Law is derived unto us, for from whence else? For as that which in me is earthly I have from some [common] earth; and that which is moist from some other Element is imparted: as my breath and life hath its proper fountain; and that likewise which is dry and fiery in me: (for there is nothing which doth not proceed from something; as also there is nothing that can be reduced unto mere nothing:) so also is there some [common beginning] from whence my understanding hath proceeded.  
V As generation is, so also death, a secret of Nature's wisdom: a mixture of Elements, resolved into the same Elements again, a thing surely which no man ought to be ashamed of: in the series of other fatal events and consequences, to which a rational creature is subject unto, not improper or incongruous; nor contrary to the natural and proper constitution of man himself.  
VI Such and such things, from such and such causes, must of necessity proceed. He that would not have such things to happen, is as he that would have the figtree [grow] without any sap or moisture. 
See B. VI N. LI. B. VIII N XIII  In sum, remember this, that within a very little while, both thou and he shall both be dead. and after a little while more, not so much as your names and memories shall be remaining.  
VII. Let opinion be taken away, and no man will think himself wronged. If no man shall think himself wronged, then is there no more any such thing as wrong. That which makes not man himself the worse, cannot make his life the worse, neither can it hurt him either inwardly or outwardly. It was expedient in nature that it should be so, and therefore necessary.  
VIII. Whatsoever doth happen in the world, doth happen justly, and so if thou dost well take heed, thou shalt find it. I say not only in right order by a series of inevitable consequences, but according to Justice and as it were by way of equal distribution, according to the true worth of every thing. Continue then to take notice of it, as thou hast begun, and whatsoever thou dost, do it not without this proviso, that it be a thing of that nature that a good man, (as the word good is properly taken) may do it. This observe carefully in every action.  
IX. Conceit no such things, as he that wrongeth thee conceiveth, or would have thee to conceive, but look into the matter itself, and see what it is in very truth.  
X. These two rules, thou must have always in a readiness. First do nothing at all, but what Reason proceeding from that Regal and supreme part, shall for the good and benefit of men, suggest unto thee. And secondly, if any man that is present, shall be able to rectify thee or to turn thee from some [erroneous] persuasion, that thou be always ready to change thy mind, and this change to proceed, not from any respect of any pleasure or credit thereon depending, but always from some probable appearant ground of Justice, or of some public good thereby to be farthered; or from some other such inducement.  
XI. Hast thou reason? I have. Why then makest thou not use of it? For if thy reason do her part, what more canst thou require?  
XII. As a part hitherto thou hast had a particular subsistence: and now shalt thou vanish away into the common substance of Him, who first begot thee or rather thou shall be resumed again into that original rational substance, out of which all others have issued, and are propagated. Many small pieces of frankincense are set upon the same alter, one drops first [and is consumed] another after; and it comes all to one.  
XIII. Within ten days [if so happen] thou shalt be esteemed a god of them, who now if thou shalt return to the Dogmata and to the honouring of Reason, will esteem of thee no better then of a mere brute, and of an ape.  
XIV. Not as though thou hadst thousands of years to live. Death hangs over thee: whilst yet thou livest, whilst thou mayest, be good.  
XV. How much time and leisure doth he gain, who is not curious to know, what his neighbour hath said, or hath done, or hath attempted, but only what he doth himself, that it may be Just and holy? or to express it in Agathos words, Not to look about upon the evil conditions of others, but to run on strait in the line, without any lose, and extravagant agitation.  
XVI. He who is greedy of credit and reputation after his death, doth not consider, that they themselves by whom he is remembered, shall soon after every one of them be dead; And they likewise that succeed those; until at last all memory, which hitherto by the succession of men admiring and soon after dying hath had its course, be quite extinct. But suppose that both they that shall remember thee, and thy memory with them should be immortal, what is that to thee? I will not say to thee after thou art dead; but even to thee living, what is thy praise? But only for a secret and politic consideration, which we call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or Dispensation. For as for that, that it is the gift of nature [what soever is commended in thee, what might be objected from thence,] let that now that we are upon another consideration, be omitted as unseasonable. That which is fair and goodly, whatsoever it be, and in what respect soever it be, that it is fair and goodly, it is so of itself, and terminates in itself, not admitting praise as a part or member: that therefore which is praised, is not thereby made either better or worse. This I understand even of those things, that are commonly called fair and good, as those which are commended either for the matter itself, or for curious workmanship. As for that which is truly good, what can it stand in need of more, than either Law or Truth; or more than either kindness and modesty? Which of all those, either becomes good or fair, because commended; or dispraised suffers any damage? Doth the Emerald become worse in itself, or more vile if it be not commended? Doth gold, or ivory, or purple? Is there any thing that doth though never so common, as a knife, a flower, or a tree?  
XVII. If so be that the souls remain after death [say they that will not believe it:] how is the air from all eternity able to contain them? How is the earth [say I:] ever from that time able to contain the bodies of them that are buried? For as here the change and resolution of dead bodies into another kind of subsistence, (whatsoever it be;) makes place for other dead bodies: so the souls after death transferred into the air, after they have conversed there a while, are either by way of transmutation, or transfusion, or conflagration, received again into that original rational substance, from which all others do proceed: and so give way to those souls, who before coupled and associated unto bodies, [now begin to subsist single.] This, upon a supposition that the souls after death do for a while subsist single, may be answered. And here, (besides the number of bodies, so buried and contained by the earth,) we may further consider the number of several beasts, eaten by us men, and by other creatures. For notwithstanding that such a multitude of them is daily consumed, and as it were buried in the bodies of the eaters, yet is the same place and body able to contain them, by reason of their conversion, partly into blood, partly into air and fire. What in these things is the speculation of truth? to divide things into that which is passive, and material; and that which is active and formal.  
XVIII. Not to wander out of the way, but upon every motion and desire, to perform that which is just: and ever to be careful to attain to the true natural apprehension of every fancy, that presents itself.  
XIX. Whatsoever is expedient unto the, O World, is expedient unto me, nothing can either he unseasonable unto me, or out of date, which unto thee is seasonable. Whatsoever thy seasons bear, shall ever by me be esteemed as happy fruit, and increase. O Nature! from thee are all things, in thee all things subsist, and to thee all tend. Can he say of Athens, Thou lovely City of Cecrops; and shalt not thou say of the World, Thou lovely City of God?  
XX. They will say commonly, Meddle not with many things, if thou wilt live cheerfully. Certainly there is nothing better, then for a man to confine himself to necessary actions; to such and so many only, as reason in a creature that knows itself borne for society, will command and enjoin. This will not only procure that cheerfulness, which from the goodness, but that also, which from the paucity of actions doth usually proceed. For since it is so, that most of those things, which we either speak or do, are unnecessary; if a man shall cut them off, it must needs follow that he shall thereby gain much leisure, and save much trouble, and therefore at every action a man must privately by way of admonition suggest unto himself, What? may not this that now I go about, be of the number of unnecessary actions? Neither must he use himself to cut off actions only, but thoughts and imaginations also, that are unnecessary; for so will unnecessary consequent actions the better be prevented and cut off.  
XXI. Try also how a good man's life; (of one, who is well pleased with those things whatsoever, which among the common changes and chances of this world fall to his own lot and snare; and can live well contented and fully satisfied in the justice of his own proper present action, and in the goodness of his disposition for the future:) will agree with thee. Thou hast had experience of that other kind of life: make now trial of this also. Trouble not thyself any more henceforth, reduce thyself unto perfect simplicity. Doth any man offend? It is against himself that he doth offend: [why should it trouble thee?] Hath any thing happened unto thee? It is well, whatsoever it be, it is that which of all the common chances of the world from the very beginning in the series of all other things that have, or shall happen, was destinated and appointed unto thee. To comprehend all in few words; Our life is short; we must endeavour to gain the present time with best discretion and justice. Use recreation with sobriety.  
XXII. Either this world is a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or a comely piece, because all disposed and governed by certain order: or if it be a mixture, though confused, yet still it is a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a comely piece. For is it possible that in thee there should be any beauty at all, and that in the whole world there should be nothing but disorder, and confusion? and all things in it too, [by natural different properties] one from another differenced, and distinguished; 
See B. VI N. 38.  and yet all through diffused, and by natural Sympathy, one to another united, as they are?  
XXIII. 
See before N. XV.  Ablack, [or, malign disposition, an effeminate disposition; an hard inexorable disposition, a wild inbumane disposition, a sheepish disposition, a childish disposition; a blockish, a false, a scurril, a fraudulent, a tyrannical: [what then?] If he be a stranger in the world, that knows not the things that are in it; why not he astranger as well, that wonders at the things that are done in it?  
XXIV. He is a true fugitive, that flies from reason, by which men are sociable. He blind, who cannot see with the eyes of his understanding. He poor, that stands in need of another, and hath not in himself all things needful for this life. He an Aposteme of the world, who by being discontented with those things that happen unto him in the world, doth as it were Apostatise, and separate himself from Common Nature's rational Administration. For the same nature it is that brings this unto thee, whatsoever it be, that first brought thee into the world. He raises sedition in the City, who [by irrational actions] withdraws his own soul from that One and common soul of all rational Creatures.  
XXV. There is, who without so much as a Coat; and there is, who without so much as a book, doth put philosophy in practice. I am half naked, neither have I bread to eat, and yet I depart not from Reason, saith one. But I say; I want the food of good teaching, and instructions, and yet I depart not from Reason.  
XXVI. What art, and profession soever thou hast learned, endeavour to affect it, and comfort thyself in it; and pass the remainder of thy life as one who from his whole heart commits himself and whatsoever belongs unto him, unto the gods, and as for men, carry not thyself either tyrannically, or servilely towards any.  
XXVII. Consider in thy mind, for example's sake, the times of Vespasian: Thou shalt see but the same things: some marrying, some bringing up children, some sick, some dying, some fight, some feasting, some merchandizing, some tilling, some flattering, some boasting, some suspecting, some undermining, some wishing to die, some fretting and murmuring at their present estate, some wooing, some hoarding, some seeking after Magistracies, and some after Kingdoms. And is not that their age quite over, and ended? Again, consider now the times of Trajan. There likewise thou seest the very selfsame things, and that age also is now over and ended. In the like manner consider other periods, both of times, and of whole nations, and see how many men, after they had with all their might and main intended, and prosecuted some one worldly thing or other, did soon after drop away, and were resolved into the Elements. But especially thou must call to mind them, whom thou thyself [in thy life time] haste known much distracted [about vain things,] and in the mean time neglecting to do that, and closely, and unseparably (as fully satisfied with it:) to adhere unto it, which their own proper constitution did require. And here thou must remember, that thy carriage in every business must be according to the worth, and due proportion of it, for so shalt thou not easily be [tired out] and vexed, if thou shalt not dwell upon small matters longer than is fitting.  
XXVIII. Those words which once were common and ordinary, are now become obscure, and obsolet; and so the names of men once commonly known and famous, are now become in a manner obscure, and obsolet names. Camillus, Caeso, Volesius, Leonnatus; not long after, Scipio, Cato, than Augustus, than Adrianus, than Antoninus Pius: All these in a short time will be out of date, and [as things of another world as it were.] become fabulous. And this I say of them, who once shined as the wonders of their ages, for as for the rest, no sooner are they expired, then with them all their fame and memory. And what is it then that shall always be remembered? all is vanity. What is it that we must bestow our care and diligence upon? even upon this only: That our minds & wills be just; that our actions be charitable, that our speech be never deceitful: [or, that our understanding be not subject to error:] that our inclination be always set to embrace whatsoever shall happen unto us, as necessary, as usual, as ordinary, as flowing from such a beginning, and such a fountain, [from which both thou thyself, and all things are.]. Willingly therefore, 
See the Pref. towards the end.  and wholly surrender up thyself unto that fatal concatenation, yielding up thyself unto the fates, to be disposed of at their pleasure.  
XXIX. Whatsoever is now present, and from day to day hath its existence; all objects of memories, and the minds and memories themselves, incessantly consider, all things that are, have their being by change, and alteration. Use thyself therefore often to meditate upon this, that the Nature of the Universe delights in nothing more, then in altering those things that are, and in making others like unto them. 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 dye, 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, 
See B. VI N. XXIII.  and having but one soul, and how all things in the world, are terminated, into one sensitive power, [or, terminate into one general sense;] and are done by one general motion as it were, & 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 connexion 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 carcase 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 any thing 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 sooles' use to be occasion either of joy or sorrow. That, whatsoever it is, that comes after, doth 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 lose independent number, consisting merely of necessary events; but as a discreet connexion 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 any thing as men in their sleep, [by opinion and bare imagination:] for than 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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; or, As [by 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, then to morrow: (for alas what is the difference! 
Sceva N. XLII. ) 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 tetrically 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, Herculanum, 
See Notes  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 ones burial, and soon after was buried himself. So one, so another: and all things in a short time. 
* See B. V N. XXVII B. VII N. III.  For herein layeth all indeed, ever to look upon all worldly things, as things for their continuance, [that last but] from day to day; [or, 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 
Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See B. VI N. XI.  snivel; 
See Notes  and within few days shall be either an embalmed carcase, 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 departed meek, and contented: even as if a ripe Olive falling, should praise the ground that bore her, and give thankes 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! 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 than 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 any thing 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 course 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 Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, or any other who in their life time 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.  
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 borne 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 borne, 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 be sides,] how every tree and 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; or, of this Universe, which doth consist of Order) naturally doth become and belong unto them? 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 goest beyond thy stint, and beyond that which would suffice, & in matter of action, there thou comest short of that which thou mayst. It must needs be therefore, that thoudost not love thyself, for if thou didst, thou wouldst also love thy Nature, & 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 dost thou less honour thy nature, than an ordinary mechanic his trade, or a good dancer his art? then a covetous man his silver, and a vain glorious 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 humane 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 any thing, 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 overruling part, and their own proper inclination: which thou must not stand and look about to take notice of, but go on strait, 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, and 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 of 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. Dost 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 dost 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 toplease, and pacify thy body: to be vainglorious, to be so guidy headed, and unsettled in thy thoughts? nay (witness 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: 
See B. IV III.  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, & are in a manner unsensible 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 doth. 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 himself 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 bare foot: 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 any thing, 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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, 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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; as if thou shouldest say, fall together: so that in the general, [though the things be diverse 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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 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 by 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 unpleasing, 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 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  produced, had it not 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  conduced to the good of the Universe. For neither doth any ordinary particular nature bring any thing 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 than thou must be well pleased with any thing 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 connexion of the first causes, it hath ever had a reference unto thee. And secondly, because the good success and perfect welfare, & 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 any thing at all, whereby the coherence, and contiguity (as of parts, so) of causes, is maintained & preserved. Of which certain it is, that thou dost (as much as lieth in thee:) cut off, and in some sort violently take somewhat away, as often as thou art displeased [with any thing 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 humane 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 dost return unto: [a Philosophers life, and proper occupation after the most exact manner.] And when thou dost return to thy philosophy, return not unto it [as the manner of some is after play & liberty as it were] to their School Masters & 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 wouldst thou thyself desire any thing 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 & 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 & 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? such as may be in the power and possession of some abominable lose liver, of some common strumpet, of some notorious oppressor, and extortioner. Pass from thence to the dispositions of them that thou dost 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 mean time] 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 youths? a woman's? or a tyrants? some brute, or some wild beasts soul?  
XII. What those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are esteemed good, thou mayst 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, these 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 martyr. 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 insinitum; by which kind of mutation, I also became what I am, and so did they that begot me, and they before them, & 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, 
See B. IV N. I. B. V N. X VII. B. VI N. XLV.  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 & 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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to intimate the directness of they way, [by which they are atcheived.] 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 that 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, than would it not belong unto man, to contemn them and to stand in opposition with them. Neither would he be praise worthy 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 contrary wise, 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. Die it therefore and throughly 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 every thing is made for, he is also made unto that, and cannot but naturally incline unto it. That which any thing doth naturally incline unto, therein is his end. Wherein the end of every thing 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 men should not commit some such things. Neither doth any thing happen to any man, which in the ordinary course of nature as natural unto him doth not happen. 
See Note upon B XI. N. III.  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 patiented, and is not grieved: is it not a grievous thing, that either ignorance or a vain desire to please and to be commanded, should be more powerful and effectual then 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 & move herself, and according as the Dogmata and opinions are, which she doth vouchsafe herself, so are those things which, as accessories, have any coexistence 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, 
See B. IU. N. I.  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 spoke 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, & all things that are done in the world, are carried away, and as it were conveyed out of sight: For both the substances themselves, (we see) as a flood, are in a continual flux; and all actions in a perpetual change; & the causes themselves, subject to a thousand alterations, neither is there any thing 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 passed, 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 as for a thing that would trouble thee for a very long time, canst find in thy heart to make such moans? Consider the whole Universe, whereof thou art but a very little part, & 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 mean time 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 its self, 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 as 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 ala [or arm holes] are offensive. What can he do? such is his breath [naturally] and, such are his ala; 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 harken unto thee, thou hast cured him, and there will be no more occasion of anger.  
XXIII. Where there shall neither roarer be, nor wheremonger. 
See B. IU. N. III  [Why so?] As thou dost purpose to live, when thou hast retired thyself [to some such place, where neither roarer, nor wheremonger is:] so mayest thou here. And if they will not suffer thee, then mayst thou leave thy life [rather than thy ca●●ing,] but so as one that doth not think himself any ways wronged. Only as one would say, Here is a smoal●●; 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 those which are best allied and knit together, as it were in an harmony. Seest thou not how it hath subordinated, and coordinated? and how it hath distributed unto every thing according to its worth? and those which have the praeeminencie 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 comtempt? how many things [externally] 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, & 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 till 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 any thing: 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 any ways 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:] but though thou must after thy best ability as occasion shall require, though but in middle [or, worldly] things they sustain any damage, ever be ready to help them; yet 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, remembering nevertheless that it is but a rhombus; so here also [do thou likewise]  
XXX. 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.]  
XXXI. Let death surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [or, a happy man] nevertheless. For he is a happy man, who [in his life time] 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.  
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 any thing that is evil; neither can any thing 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 any thing 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 every thing 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 any thing 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 Noah. But if the latter be, then am not I religious in vain; then will I be quiet and patiented, 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 carcase 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, died with the blood of a shellfish. So for coitus, it is but the attrition of an ordinary base entrall; and the excretion of a little 
* Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See B. IV 39  vile snivel; with a certain kind of convulsion: [according to Hypocrates his opinion.] How excellent useful are these lively fancies and representation 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, 
Gr: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 See B III N. VII.  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 gentile 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 subtle 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 any thing 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 cooperate 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 flying by him, who is no sooner seen, then out of sight. For we must not think otherwise of our lives, then as a mere exhalation of blood, or of an ordinary respiration of air. For what [in our common apprehension] is, to breath in the air and to breathe it out again, which we do daily: so much is it and no more, at once to breath out all thy respirative faculty into that common air from whence but lately (as being but from yesterday, and today,) 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 and violence of our sensual appetites; or that we can gather, and live together; or that we can feed: for that in effect is no better, then 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 who [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, 
See Note 5. upon the II. B. out of Epictetus, and N. XXXVI. of this VI B  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, 
See job 28.1.2. to 12.13. etc.  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 any thing 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 Palaestra some body 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 Palaestra. For as I said, it is very possible for us to avoid and decline, though we neither suspect, nor hate.  
XX. If any body 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, 
See B. IV Num. XXXIII  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 gain say 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 it is with an opinion of their own proper good and commodity, that they are lead unto such things. But it is not so, 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 impressions 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 any thing that becomes thee. Endeavour to continue such, as philosophie [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 vain glory; 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, & how patiently, and without any contestation he would bear with them, that did unjustly condemn him: how he would never be overhasty in any thing, 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 frighted, 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 patiented; 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 awaken, 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 doth she busy herself about any, but those that are present; for as for future and passed operation, 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, than 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 then 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, to which the gods themselves are bound?  
XXXIII. Asia, Europe; what are they, but as corners of the whole world; of which the whole Sea, is but as one drop; & 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, 
See B. VII. N. XLIV.  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 seethe 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 connexion 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 utensile, 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 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 cooperate 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 cooperate.] 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, 
See B. VIII N. XXXIII.  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 cooperate with him, that whatsoever thou dost, 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 
* See the Notes.  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? 
See B. IV N. 22. B. VII. N. 26. last lines.  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 cooperate 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 discreet & 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 & accept of. But if so be that they have not deliberated at all (which indeed is very irreligious for any man to believe: forthen 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, & 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 common wealth, 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 & 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 Philestio, Phoebus, and Origanius. 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, subtle, peremptory dispositions; and among others, even they, that have been the greatest scoffers and deriders of the frailty and brevity of this our humane 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 aught by us much to be esteemed; and that is, according to truth and righteousness, meekly and lovingly to converse with false, & 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 unto thee many together do represent themselves: as many as thy mind is well capable of at once. And therefore thou must have them always in a readiness.  
XLIV. Dost thou grieve that thou dost weigh but so many pounds, and not 300 rather? Just as much reason hast thou to grieve that thou must live but so many years, and not longer. For as for bulcke 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, & hinder thee in it, convert [thy virtuous inclination from one object unto another, from justice.] too contented aequanimitie, and cheerful patience: so that what [in the one] is thy hindrance, thou mayest make use of it for the exercise of another virtue: 
See B V. N. XIV.  & remember that it was with due exception, & 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 exception, and 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 borne, 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 fare 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, if either the one be well carried, or the others 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 jaundis, 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, 
See B VII N. 34. B. VIII. 13. etc. ] then either choler, [being immoderate and excessive] to cause the jaundis; 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.  
What is wickedness? It is that which many times and often thou hast already seen and known [in the world.] And so, as any thing 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, whatsoever 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 mayest [whilst thou livest] grant unto thyself; to live again. See the things of the world again; as thou hast already seen them. 
See B IU. N. 39 B V.N. 27.  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 bee 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, 
See B. III. N. XVI. B. IU. N. XXIV.  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 effecting of such a work. 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 intent, 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 mayest; [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 any thing 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 beside.] 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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [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 any thing, 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. Strait [of itself] not made strait.  
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 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or, a member of the mass and body of reasonable substances. But if thou shalt say I am 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 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 sitting; 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 mayest 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 any thing, if itself doth not trouble and hinder itself.  
XIV. What is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [or, happiness:] but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, [or, a good Daemon, or, Spirit?] What then dost thou do here, O opinion? By the gods I adjure thee, that thou get thee gone, as thou camest: for I need thee not. Thou camest indeed [unto me] according to thy ancient wont manner. [It is that, that all men have ever been subject unto. That thou camest therefore] I am not angry with thee; only be gone, [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] own 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 any thing 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 any thing,] upon every such occasion presently come to thy mind. Of all my thoughts & 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 man, 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 form 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 throughly 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 dost 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.  
XIX. Whensoever any man doth trespass against thee, presently consider with thyself what it was that he did suppose to be good, what to be evil, when he did trespass. For this when thou knowest, thou wilt pity him thou wilt have no occasion either to wonder, or to be angry. For either thou thyself dost yet [live in that error and ignorance, as that thou dost] suppose either that very thing that he doth, or some other like [worldly] thing, to be good: and so thou art bound to pardon him [if he have done that which thou in the like case wouldst have done thyself.] Or if so be that thou dost not any more suppose the same things to be good or evil, that he doth; how canst thou but be gentle unto him that is in an error?  
XX. Fancy not to thyself things, future, as though they were present: but of those that are present, take some aside, that thou takest most benefit of, and consider of them particularly, how wonderfully thou wouldst want them, if they were not present. But take heed withal, lest that whilst thou dost settle thy contentment in things present, thou grow in time so to overprize them, as that the want of them (whensoever it shall so fall out) should be a trouble and a vexation unto thee. Wind up thyself into thyself. Such is the Nature of thy reasonable commanding part, as that if it exercise justice, and have by that means tranquillity within itself, it doth rest fully satisfied with itself [without any other thing.]  
XXI. Wipe off all opinion: stay the force and violence of unreasonable lusts and affections: Circumscribe the present time: Examine whatsoever it be that is happened; either to thyself or to another: Divide all present objects, either in that which is formal or material: think of the last hour. That which thy neighbour hath committed, where the guilt of it lieth, there let it rest. Extend thy mind to [or, Examine in order] whatsoever is spoken. Let thy mind penetrate, both into the effects, and into the causes. Rejoice thyself with true simplicity, and modesty, and that all middle things between virtue and vice are indifferent unto thee. [Finally,] Love mankind; obey God.  
XXII. All things (saith he) are by certain order and appointment. And what if the Elements only ❀ ❀ ❀. It will suffice to remember, that all things in general are by certain order and appointment: or if it be but few. ❀ ❀ And as concerning death, that either Dispersion, or the Atoms, or Annihilation, or Extinction, or Translation [will ensue.] And as concerning pain, that that which is intolerable is soon ended by death; and that which holds long must needs be tolerable; and that the mind in the mean time [which is all in all may 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 See B. V N. 20. B. IX. N. 41  by way of interclusion, or interception [by stopping all manner of commerce and sympathy with the body,] still retain its own tranquillity. Thy understanding is not made worse by it. As for those parts that suffer, let them, 
See Note 6. upon B. II. and B. VII. 34.  if they can, declare their grief themselves. As for praise and commendation, view their mind and understanding, what estate they are in; what kind of things they fly, and what things they seek after and that as in the seaside, whatsoever was before to be seen, is by the continual succession of new heaps of sand cast up one upon another, soon hid and covered; so in this life, all former things by those which immediately succeed.  
XXIII. Out of Plato. He than whose mind is endowed with true magnanimity, who hath accustomed himself to the contemplation both of all times, and of all things in general; can this mortal life (thinkest thou) seem any great matter unto him? It is not possible; answered he. Then neither will such a one account death a grievous thing? By no means.  
XXIV. Out of Antisthenes. It is a princely thing to do well, and to be ill spoken of. It is a shameful thing that the face should be subject unto the mind, to be put into what shape it will, and to be dressed by it as it will; and that the mind should not bestow so much care upon herself, as to fashion herself, and to dress herself as best becometh her.  
XXV. [Out of several poets and Comicks] It will but little avail thee, to turn thine anger and indignation upon the things themselves [that have fallen cross unto thee.] For as for them, they are not sensible of it, etc. Thou shalt but make thyself a laughing flock; both unto the gods and men, etc. To reap one's life, as a ripe ear, etc. And that this is, and that this is not, etc. But if so be that I and my children be neglected by the gods, there is some reason even for that, etc. As long as right and equity is of my side, etc. Not to lament with them, Not to tremble, etc.  
XXVI. Out of Plato. My answer, full of justice and equity, should be this: Thy speech is not right, O man! if thou supposest that he that is of any worth at all, should apprehend either life or death, as a matter of great hazard and danger; and should not make this rather his only care, to examine his own actions, whether just or unjust: whether actions of a good, or of a wicked man, etc. For thus in very truth, stands the case, O ye men of Athens. What place or station soever a man either hath chosen to himself, judging it best for himself; or is by lawful authority put & settled in, therein do I think (all appearance of danger notwithstanding:) that he should continue as one who feareth neither death, nor any thing else so much as he feareth to commmit any thing that is vicious and shameful, etc. But, O noble Sir, consider I pray, whether true generosity and true happiness, do not consist in somewhat else rather, then in the preservation either of ours, or other men's lives. For it is not the part of a man that is a man indeed, to desire to live long [or to make much of his life whilst he liveth:] But rather (he that is such) will in these things wholly refer himself unto the gods, and believing that which every woman can tell him, that, no man can escape death; the only thing that he takes thought and care for is this, that what time he liveth, he may live as well and as virtuously as he can possibly, etc. To look about, and with the eyes to follow the course of the stars and planets, as though thou wouldst run with them; and to mind perpetually the several changes of the Elements one into another. For such fancies and imaginations, help much to purge away, the dross and filth of this our earthly life, etc. That also is a fine passage of Plato's, where he speaketh of worldly things in these words: Thou must also as from some higher place look down, 
See B. X 29. B. X. I 18.  as it were upon the things of this world, as flocks, armies, husband-mens' labours, marriages, divorces, generations, deaths: the tumults of Courts and places of judicatures; desert places; the several nations of Barbares, public festivals, mournings, fairs, markets. How all things [upon Earth] are pesse mess; 
See B. IV N. 22.  and how [miraculously things contrary one to another, concur to the beauty and perfection of this Universe.  
XXVII. To look back upon things of former ages, as upon the manifold changes and conversions of several Monarchies and commonwealths. We may also foresee things future, for they shall all be of the same kind; neither is it possible that they should leave the tune, or break the consort that is now begun as it were, by these things that are now done and brought to pass in the World. It comes all to one therefore, whether a man be a spectator of the things of this life but forty years, or whether he see them ten thousand years together: for what shall he see more? And as for those parts that came from the Earth, they shall return unto the Earth again; and those that came from Heaven, they also shall return unto those heavenly places. Whether it be a mere dissolution and unbinding of the manifold intricacies and entanglements of the confused atoms; or some such dispersion of the simple and incorruptible Elements ❀ ❀ ❀. With meats and drinks and diverse charms, they seek to divert the channel, that they might not die. Yet must we needs endure that blast of wind that cometh from above, though we bewail our toil and misery.  
XXVIII. He hath a stronger body, and is a better wrestler than I: [What then?] Is he more bountiful? is he more modest? Doth he bear all adverse chances with more equanimity: Or with his neighbour's offences with more meekness and gentleness than I?  
XXIX. Where the matter may be effected agreeably to that Reason, which both unto the gods, and men is common, there can be no just cause of grief or sorrow. For where the fruit and benefit of an action well begun and prosecuted according to the proper constitution of man may be reaped and obtained, [or, is sure and certain,] it is against reason that any damage should there be suspected. In all places, and at all times, it is in thy power religiously to embrace whatsoever [by God's appointment] is happened unto thee, and justly to converse with those men, whom thou hast to do with; and accurately to examine every fancy that presents itself, that nothing may slip and steal in, before thou hast rightly apprehended the true Nature of it.  
XXX. Look not about upon other men's minds and understandings; but look right on forwards whither Nature, both that of the Universe, in those things that happen unto thee; and thine in particular, in those things that are done by thee, doth lead, and direct thee. Now every one is bound to do that, which is consequent and agreeable to that end which by his true natural constitution he was ordained unto. As for all other things, they are ordained for the use of reasonable creatures: as in all things we see that that which is worse and inferior, is made for that which is better. Reasonable creatures, they are ordained one for another. That therefore which is chief in every man's constitution, is, that he intent the common good. The second is, that he yield not to any lusts and motions of the flesh. For it is the part and privilege of the reasonable and intellective faculty, that she can so bound herself, as that neither the sensitive, nor the appetitive faculties, may not any ways prevail upon her. For both these are brutish. And [therefore] over both she challengeth mastery, and cannot any ways endure [if in her right temper,] to be subject unto either. And this indeed most justly. For by nature she was ordained to command all in the body. The third thing proper to man by his constitution, is, to avoid all rashness, and precipitancy; and not to be subject to error. To these things then, let the mind apply herself and go strait on [without any distraction about other things] and she hath her end, [and by consequent her happiness.]  
XXXI. As one who had lived, and were now to die by right, whatsoever is yet remaining, bestow that wholly as [a gracious] overplus upon a virtuous life. 
G●: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See pref.  Love and affect that only, whatsoever it be that happeneth, and is by the Fates appointed unto thee. For what can be more reasonable? And as any thing doth happen unto thee [by way of cross, or calamity,] call to mind presently and set before thine eyes, the examples of some other men, to whom the self same thing did once happen likewise. Well, what did they? They grieved; they wondered, they complained. And where are they now? All dead and gone. Wilt thou also be like one of them? Or rather leaving to men of the world (whose life both in regard of themselves, and them that they converse with, is nothing but mere mutability; or men of as fickle minds, as fickle bodies; ever changing and soon changed themselves:) their own fickle dispositions; let it be thine only care and study, how to make a right use of all such accidents. For there is good use to be made of them, and they will prove fit matter for thee to work upon, if it shall be both thy care and thy desire, that whatsoever thou dost, thou thyself mayst like and approve thyself for it. And both these, see, that thou remember well, according as the diversity of the matter of the action that thou art about; shall require. Look within; within is the fountain of all good. Such a fountain, where springing waters can never fail, so thou dig still deeper and deeper.  
XXXII. Thou must use thyself also to keep thy body fixed and steady; free from all lose fluctuant, either motion, or posture. And as upon thy face and looks, thy mind hath easily power over them to keep them to that which is grave and decent; so let it challenge the same power over the whole body also. But so observe all things in this kind, as that it be without any manner of affectation.  
XXXIII. The art of true living in this world, is more like a wrestlers, than a dancers practise. For in this they both agree [to teach] a man whatsoever falls upon him, that he may be ready for it, and that nothing may cast him down.  
XXXIV. Thou must continually ponder & consider with thyself, what manner of men they be, and for their minds and understandings what is their present estate, whose good word and testimony thou dost desire. For then neither wilt thou see cause to complain of them that offend against their wills; or find any want of their applause, 
See B. VIII. N. 13.  if once thou dost but penetrate into the true force, and ground both of their opinions; and of their desires. No soul (saith he:) is willingly bereft of the Truth, and by consequent, neither of justice, or temperance, or kindness, and mildness; nor of any thing that is of the same kind. It is most needful that thou shouldest always remember this. For so shalt thou be fare more gentle and moderate towards all men.  
XXXV. What pain soever thou art in, let this presently come to thy mind, that it is not a thing whereof thou needest to be ashamed, neither is it a thing, whereby thy understanding, that hath the government of all, can be made worse. For neither in regard of the substance of it, nor in regard of the end of it (which is, to intent the common good;) can it alter and corrupt it. This also of Epicurus mayst thou in most pains find some help of, that it is: neither intolerable, nor eternal; so thou keep thyself to the true bounds and limits [of reason] and give not way to opinion. This also thou must consider, that many things there be, which oftentimes unsensibly trouble & vex thee [as not armed against them with patience, because they go not ordinarily under the name of pains] which in very deed, are of the same nature as pain; as to slumber unquietly: to suffer heat, to want appetite, when therefore any of these things make thee discontented, check thyself with these words. Now hath pain given thee the foil. Thy courage hath failed thee.  
XXXVI. Take heed least at any time thou stand so affected, though towards unnatural evil men, as ordinary men are commonly one towards another.  
XXXVII. How know we whether Socrates were so Eminent indeed, and of so extraordinary a disposition? For that he died more gloriously, that he disputed with the Sophists more subtly; that he watched in the Pagus more affiduously; that being commanded to fetch [innocent] Salaminius, he refused to do it more generously; all this will not serve. Nor that he walked in the streets, with much gravity and majesty as was objected unto him by his adversaries, which nevertheless a man may we doubt of whether it were so or no, [or, which above all the rest, if so be that it were true, a man would well consider of, whether commendable, or discommendable.] The thing therefore that we must inquire into, is this; what manner of soul Socrates had whether his disposition was such; as that all that he stood upon; and sought after in this world, was barely this; That he night ever carry himself justly towards men, and holily towards the gods. Whether without indignation, when it would do no good, he could bear with other men's wickedness, and yet never condescend to any man's evil fact, or evil intentions; [through either fear, or engagement of friendship.] Whether of those things that happened unto him by God's appointment, he neither did wonder at any when it did happen, or thought it intolerable in the trial of it. And lastly, whether he never did suffer his mind to sympathise with the senses, and affections of the body. For we must not think that Nature hath so mixed and rempered it with the body, as that she hath not power to circumscribe herself, and by herself to intent her own ends and occasions.  
XXXVIII. For it is a thing very possible, that a man should be a very divine man, and yet be altogether unknown. This thou must ever be mindful of, as of this also, that a man's true happiness doth consist in very few things. And that although thou dost despair, that thou shalt ever be a good either Logician, or Naturalist, yet thou art never the further off by it from being either liberal, or modest, or charitable, or obedient unto God.  
XXXIX. Free from all compulsion in all cheerfulness and alacrity thou mayst run out thy time, though men should exclaim against thee never so much, and the wild beasts should pull in sunder the poor members of thy pampered mass of flesh. For what in either of these or the like cases, should hinder the mind to retain her own rest and tranquillitle, consisting both in the right judgement of chose things that happen unto her, and in the ready use of all present matters and occasions? So that her judgement may say, 
Gr: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  to that which is befallen her by way of cross: This thou art in very deed, and according to thy true nature; notwithstanding that in the judgement of opinion thou dost appear otherwise: and her Discretion to the present object; Thou art that, which I sought for. For whatsoever it be, that is now present, shall ever be embraced by me as a fit and seasonable object, both for my reasonable faculty, and for my sociable, or charitable inclination to work upon. And that which is principal in this matter, is, that it may be referred either unto [the praise of] God, or to [the good of] men. For either unto God or man, whatsoever it is that ●oth happen in the world hath in the ordinary course of nature its proper reference; neither is there any thing, that [in regard of nature] is either new, or reluctant and intractable, but all things both usual and easy.  
XL. Then hath a man attained to the estate of perfection in his life and conversation, when he so spends every day, as if it were his last day: never hot and vehement in his affections, nor yet so cold and stupid as one that had no sense; and free from all manner of dissimulation.  
XLI. Can the gods, who are immortal, for the continuance of so many ages bear without indignation with such and so many sinners, as have ever been, yea not only so, but also take such care for them, that they want nothing; and dost thou so grievously take on, as one that could bear with them no longer; thou that art but for a moment of time? yea thou that art one of those sinners thyself? A very ridiculous thing it is, that any man should dispense with vice and wickedness in himself, which is in his power to restrain, and should go about to suppress it in others, which is altogether impossible.  
XLII. What object soever, our reasonable and sociable faculty doth meet with, that affords nothing either for the satisfaction of reason, or for the practice of charity, she worthily doth think unworthy of herself.  
XLIII. When thou hast done well, and another is benefited by thy action, must thou like a very fool look for a third thing beside, as that it may appear unto others also that thou hast done well, or that thou mayest in time, receive one good turn for another? No man useth to be weary of that which is beneficial unto him. But every action according to Nature, is beneficial. Be not weary then of doing that which is beneficial unto thee, whilst it is so unto others.  
XLIV. The nature of the Universe did once certainly [before it was created, 
See B. VI Num. XXXIII XX XIX. B. IX. XXVI.  whatsoever it hath done since] deliberate and so resolve upon the creation of the World. Now since that time, whatsoever it is, that is and happens in the world, is either but a consequent of that one and first deliberation: or if so be that this ruling rational part of the world, takes any thought and care of things particular, they are surely his reasonable and principal creatures, that are the proper object of his particular care and providence. This often thought upon, will much conduce to thy tranquillity.   

THE EIGHTH BOOK.  
THis also, among other things; may serve to keep thee from vain glory, if thou shalt consider, that thou art now altogether incapable of the commendation of one, who all his life long, or from his youth at least, hath lived a Philosopher's life. For both unto others, and to thyself especially, it is well known, that thou hast done many things contrary to that perfection of life. Thou hast therefore been confounded in thy course, and henceforth it will be hard for thee to recover the Title, and credit of a Philosopher. And to it also is thy calling and profession repugnant. If therefore thou dost truly understand, what it is that is of moment indeed; as for thy same and credit, take no thought or care for that: let it suffice thee if all the rest of thy life, be it more or less, thou shalt live as thy nature requireth. [or, according to the true and natural end of thy making.] Take pains therefore to know what it is that thy nature requireth, and let nothing else distract thee. Thou hast already had sufficient experience, that of those many things that hitherto thou hast erred and wandered about, thou couldst not find happiness in any of them. Not in Syllogisms, and Logical subtleties, not in wealth, not in honour and reputation, not in pleasure. In none of all these. Wherein then is it to be found? In the practice of those things, which the nature of man, as he is a man, doth require. How then shall he do those things? If his Dogmata, or, moral Tenets and opinions (from which all motions and actions do proceed:) be right and true. Which be those Dogmata? Those that concern that which is good or evil, as that there is nothing truly good and beneficial unto man, but that which makes him just, temperate, courageous, liberal; and that there is nothing truly evil and hurtful unto man, but that which causeth the contrary effects.  
II. Upon every action that thou art about, put this question to thyself; How will this when it is done agree with me? Shall I have no occasion to repent of it? Yet a very little while and I am dead and gone; and all things are at end. What then do I care for more than this, that my present action whatsoever it be, may be the proper action of one that is reasonable; whose end is, the common good; who in all things is ruled and governed by the same law [of right and reason,] by which God himself is.  
III. Alexander, Caius, Pompeius; what are these to Diogenes, Heraclitus, and Socrates? These penetrated into the true nature of things: into all causes, and all subjects: and upon these did they exercise their power and authority; [or, these were the objects of their power and jurisdiction:] But as for those as the extent of their error was, so fare did their slavery extend.  
IU. What they have done, they will still do, although thou shouldest hang thyself. First; Let it not trouble thee. For all things [both good and evil:] come to pass according to the nature and general condition of the Universe, and within a very little while, all things will be at an end; no man will be remembered: as now of Africanus (for example) and Augustus it is already come to pass. Then secondly; Fix thy mind upon the thing itself; look into it, and remembering thyself, that thou art bound nevertheless to be a good man, and what it is that thy Nature requireth of thee as thou art a man, be not diverted from what thou art about, and speak that which seemeth unto thee most just: only speak it kindly, modestly, and without hypocrisy.  
V That which the Nature of the Universe doth busy herself about, is; that which is here, to transfer it thither, to change it, and thence again to take it away, and to carry it to another place. So that thou needest not fear any new thing. For all things are usual and ordinary; and all things are disposed by equality.  
VI Every particular nature hath content, when in its own proper course it speeds. A reasonable nature doth then speed, when first in matter of fancies and imaginations, it gives no consent to that which is either false or incertain. Secondly, when in all its motions and resolutions it takes its level at the common good only, and that it desireth nothing, and flieth from nothing, but what is in its own power to compass or avoid. And lastly, when it willingly and gladly embraceth, whatsoever is dealt and appointed unto it by the common Nature. For it is part of it; even as the nature of any one leaf, is part of the common nature of all plants and trees. But that the nature of a leaf, is part of a nature both unreasonable and unsensible, and which [in its proper end] may be hindered; [or, which is servile and slavish:] whereas the nature of man is part of a common nature which cannot be hindered, and which is both reasonable and just. From whence also it is, that according to the worth of every thing, she doth make such equal distribution of all things, as of duration, substance, form, operation, and of events and accidents. But herein consider not whether thou shalt find this equality in every thing absolutely and by itself; but whether in all the particulars of some one thing taken together, and compared with all the particulars of some other thing; and them together likewise.  
VII. Thou hast no time nor opportunity to read. What then? Hast thou not time and opportunity to exercise thyself, not to wrong [thy self;] tostrive against [all carnal] pleasures and pains, and to get the upper hand of them; to contemn honour and vain glory; and not only, not to be angry with them, whom towards thee thou dost find unsensible and unthankful; but also to have a care of them still, and of their welfare?  
VIII. Forbear henceforth to complain of the troubles of a Courtly life, either in public before others, or in private by thyself.  
IX. Repentance, is an inward and selfe-reprehension for the neglect or omission of somewhat that was profitable. Now whatsoever is good, is also profitable, and it is the part of an honest virtuous man to set by it, and to make reckoning of it accordingly. But never did any honest virtuous man repent of the neglect or omission of any [carnal] pleasure: no [carnal] pleasure than is either good or profitable.  
X. This, what is it in itself, and by itself, according to its proper constitution? What is the substance of it? What is the matter, [or, proper use?] What is the form [or, efficient cause?] What is it for in this world, and how long will it abide? [Thus must thou examine all things, that present themselves unto thee.]  
XI. When thou art hard to be stirred up and awaked out of thy sleep, admonish thyself and call to mind, that, to perform actions tending to the common good is that which thine own proper constitution, and that which the nature of man do require. But to sleep, is common to unreasonable creatures also. And what more proper and natural, yea what more kind and pleasing, then that which is according to Nature?  
XII. As every fancy and imagination presents itself unto thee, consider (if it be possible) the true nature, and the proper qualities of it, and reason with thyself about it.  
XIII. At thy first encounter with any one, say presently to thyself; This man, what are his opinions concerning that which is good or evil? as concerning pain, pleasure, and the causes of both; concerning honour, and dishonour, concerning life and death; thus and thus. Now if it be no wonder that a man should have such & such opinions how can it be a wonder, that he should do such and such things? I will remember then, that he cannot but do as he doth [holding those opinions that he doth.] Remember, that as it is a shame for any man to wonder that a fig tree should bear figs, so also to wonder that the World should bear any thing, whatsoever it is which in the ordinary course of nature it may bear. To a physician also & to a pilot it is a shame either for the one to wonder, that such and such a one should have an ague; or for the other, that the winds should prove contrary.  
XIV. Remember, that to change thy mind upon occasion, and to follow him that is able to rectif●… thee, is equally ingenuous, [as to find out at the first, what is right and just, without help.] For of thee nothing is required, that is beyond the extent of thine own deliberation and judgement, and of thine own understanding.  
XV. If it were thine act and in thine own power, why wouldst thou do it? If it were not, whom dost thou accuse? the atoms, or the gods? For to do either, is the part of a mad man. Thou must therefore blame no body, but if it be in thy power, redress what is amiss; if it be not, to what end is it to complain? For nothing should be done but to some certain end.  
XVI. Whatsoever dyeth [and falleth, however and wheresoever it die and fall,] it cannot fall out of the world. If here it have its abode and change, here also shall it have its dissolution into its proper elements. The same are the world's Elements, and the elements of which thou dost consist. And they when they are changed, they murmur not; [why shouldest thou?]  
XVII. Whatsoever is, was made for something: as a horse, a vine. Why wonder'st thou? The Sun itself will say of itself, I was made for something: and so [hath] every god [its proper function.] What then wert thou made for? to disport and delight thyself? See how even common sense and reason cannot brook it.  
XVIII. Nature hath its end as well in the end and final consummation of any thing that is, as in the beginning and continuation of it.  
XIX. As one that tosseth up a ball. And what is a hall the better, if the motion of it be upwards; or the worse if it be downwards; or if it chance to fall upon the ground? So for the bubble; if it continue, what is it the better? and if it dissolve, what is it the worse? And so is it of a candle too. [And so must thou reason with thyself, both in matter of fame, and in matter of death. For as for the body itself, (the subject of death) wouldst thou know the vileness of it?] Turn it about, [that thou mayest behold it the worst sides upwards as well, as in its more ordinary pleasant shape:] how doth it look, when it is old and withered? when sick and pained? when in the act of lust, and fornication? [And as for fame] This life is short. Both he that praiseth, and he that is praised; he that remembers, and he that is remembered, [will soon be dust and ashes.] Besides, it is but in one corner of this part of the world [that thou art praised;] and yet in this corner, thou hast not the joint praises of all men; no nor scarce of any one constantly. And yet the whole earth itself, what is it but as one point, [in regard of the whole world?]  
XX. That which must be the subject of thy consideration, is either the matter itself, or the Dogma, or the operation, or the true sense and signification.  
XXI. Most justly have these things happened unto thee: [why dost not thou amend?] O but thou hadst rather become good to morrow, then to be so to day.  
XXII. Shall I do it? I will; so the end of my action be to do good unto men. Doth any thing by way of cross, or adversity happen unto me? I accept it, with reference unto the Gods, and [their providence;] the fountain of all things, from which whatsoever comes to pass, doth hang and depend.  
XXIII. [By one action judge of the rest:] This bathing [which usually takes up so much of our time] what is it? Oil, sweat, filth; [or the sordes of the body:] and excrementitious viscosity, [the excrements of oil, & other ointments used about the body, and mixed with the sordes of the body: all base and loathsome. And such [almost] is every part of our life, and every [worldly] object.  
XXIV. Lucilla [buried] Verus; then was Lucilla herself [buried by others.] So Secunda, Maximus then Secunda herself. So Epitunchanus, Diotimus; then Epitunchanus himself. So Antoninus Pius, Faustina [his wife;] then Antoninus himself. This is the course of the world. First, Celer, Adrianus; then Adrianus himself. And those austere ones; those that foretold other men's deaths; those that were so proud and stately, where are they now? Those austere ones I mean, such as were Charux, and Demetrius, the Platonic; and Eudaemon, and others like unto those. They were all but for one day; all dead and gone long since. Some of them no sooner dead, then forgotten. Others soon turned into fables. Of others, even that which was fabulous, is now long since forgotten. This therefore thou must remember, that whatsoever thou art compounded of, shall soon be dispersed, and that thy life and breath [or, thy soul:] shall either be no more, or shall be translated, and appointed to some certain place and station.  
XXV. The true joy of a man, is to do that, which properly belongs unto a man. That which is most proper unto a man, is, First, to be kindly affected towards them, that are of the same kind and nature as he is himself; to contemn all sensual motions and appetites to discern rightly all plausible fancies and imaginations, to contemplate the nature of the Universe; both it, and all things that are done in it. [In which kind of contemplation] three several relations [are to be observed.] The first, to the appearant secundary cause. The second, to the first original cause, God, from whom originally proceeds whatsoever doth happen in the world. The third and last, to them that we live and converse with: [what use may be made of it, to their use and benefit.]  
XXVI. If pain be an evil, either it is in regard of the body; (and that cannot be, 
* Gr: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 See. B. VII. N. 13.  because the body of itself is altogether insensible:) or in regard of the soul. But it is in the power of the soul, to preserve her own peace and tranquillity, and not to suppose that pain is evil. For all judgement and deliberation; all prosecution, or aversation is from within, whither the sense of evil [except it be let in by opinion] cannot penetrate.  
XXVII. Wipe off all [idle] fancies, and say unto thyself incessantly; Now if I will it is in my power to keep out of this my soul all wickedness, all lust, and concupiscences, all trouble and confusion. But on the contrary, to behold and consider all things according to their true nature, and to carry myself towards every thing according to its true worth. Remember then this thy power, that Nature hath given thee.  
XXVIII. Whether thou speak in the Senate, or whether thou speak to any particular, let thy speech be always grave and modest. But thou must not openly and vulgarly observe that sound and exact form of speaking [concerning that which is truly good and truly evil; the vanity of the world, & of worldly men:] which otherwise Truth, and Reason doth prescribe.  
XXIX. Augustus' his Court; His wife, his daughter, his nephews, his sons in Law; his sister, Agrippa, his Kinsmen, his domestics, his friends; Areus, Maecenas, his aruspices [or slayers of beasts for sacrifice and divination:] There thou hast the death of a whole Court together. Proceed now on to the rest [that have been since that of Augustus.] Hath death dealt with them otherwise, [though so many and so stately whilst they lived] than it doth use to deal with any one particular man? Consider now the death of a whole kindred and family, as of that of the Pompeyeses, as that also that useth to be written upon some monuments, HE WAS THE LAST OF HIS OWN KINDRED. O what care did his predecessors take, that they might leave a successor, yet behold! at last one or other must of necessity be THE LAST. Here again therefore consider the death of a whole kindred.  
XXX. Contract thy whole life to the measure and proportion of one single action. And if in every particular action thou dost perform what is fitting to the utmost of thy power, let it suffice thee. [or, think that thou hast lived long enough.] And who can hinder thee, but that thou mayest perform what is fitting? But there may be some outward  and impediment. Not any, that can hinder thee, but that whatsoever thou dost, thou may do it, justly, temperately, and with the praise of God. Yea but there may be somewhat, whereby some operation or other of thine may be hindered. And then, with that very thing that doth hinder, thou mayest be well pleased, and so by this gentle and aequanimous conversion of thy mind unto that which may be [in stead of that which at first thou didst intent] in the room of that former action there succeedeth another, which agrees [as well] with this contraction of thy life, that we now speak of.  
XXXI. Receive [temper all blessings] without ostentation, when they are sent; and [thou shalt be able] to part with them with all readiness and facility when they are taken from thee again.  
XXXII. If ever thou sawest either a hand, or a foot, or a head lying by itself, in some place or other, as cut off from the rest of the body, such must thou conceive him to make himself, as much as in him lieth, that either is offended with any thing that is happened, (whatsoever it be) and as it were divides himself from it: or that commits any thing against the natural Law of mutual correspondence, and society among men: or, [he that commits any act of uncharitableness.] Whosoever thou art, that art such, thou art cast forth I know not whither out of the general unity, which is according to Nature. Thou wert borne indeed a part, but now thou hast cut thyself off. However, herein is matter of joy and exultation, that thou mayst be united again. God hath not granted it unto any other part, that once separated and cut off, it might be reunited, and come together again. But, behold, that GOODNESS [how great and immense it is!] which hath so much esteemed MAN. 
See N. 53. B. XI. N. 7.  As at first he was so made, that he needed not, except he would himself, have divided himself from the whole; so once divided and cut off, IT hath so provided and ordered it, that if he would himself, he might return, and grow together again, and be admitted into its former rank and place of a part, as he was before.  
XXXIII. As almost all her other faculties and properties the nature of the Universe hath imparted unto every reasonable Creature, so this in particular we have received from her, that as whatsoever doth oppose itself unto her, and doth withstand her in her purposes and intentions, she doth though against its will and intention, bring it about to herself, 
Gr: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: etc. See B. VI N. xxxvij.  to serve herself of it in the execution of her own dostinated ends; and so [by this though not intended cooperation of it with herself] makes it part of herself [whether it will or no;] So may every reasonable Creature, what crosses or impediments soever it meets with [in the course of this mortal life,] it may use them as fit and proper objects, to the furtherance of whatsoever it intended, and absolutely proposed unto itself [as its natural end and happiness.]  
XXXIV. Let not the general representation unto thyself of the wretchedness of this our mortal life, 
Gr: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  trouble thee. Let not thy mind wander up and down, and heap together in her thoughts, the many troubles and grievous calamities which thou art as subject unto as any other. But as every thing in particular doth happen, put this question unto thyself, and say; What is it that in this present matter, seems unto thee so intolerable? For thou wilt be ashamed to confess it. Then upon this presently call to mind, that neither that which is future, nor that which is past can hurt thee; but that only which is present. (And that also is much lessened, if thou dost rightly circumscribe it:) and then check thy mind if for so little a while, (a mere instant) it cannot hold out with patience.  
XXXV. What? are either Panthea's or Pergamus abiding to this day by their Master's tombs? or either Chabrias or Diotimus by that of Adrianus? O foolery! For what if they did, would their Masters be sensible of it? or if sensible, would they be glad of it? or if glad, were these immortal? Was not it appointed unto them also (both men and women,) to become old in time, and then to dye? And these once dead, what would become of these former? [And when all is done, what is all this for,] but for a mere bag of blood and corruption; [or, loathsome excrements?]  
XXXVI. If thou be'st quicksighted, be so in matter of judgement, and best discretion, saith he.  
XXXVII. In the whole constitution of man, I see not any virtue contrary to justice, whereby it may be resisted and opposed. But one whereby pleasure and voluptuousness may be resisted and opposed, I see, Continence.  
XXXVIII. If thou canst but withdraw conceit and opinion concerning that which may seem hurtful and offensive, thou thyself art as safe, as safe may be. Thou thyself? and who is that? Thy Reason. Yea, but I am not Reason. Well, be it so. How ever, 
See before N. XXVI.  let not thy Reason [or understanding] admit of grief, and if there be any thing in thee that is greeved, let that, (whatsoever it be,) conceive its own grief, [if it can.]  
XXXIX. That which is a hindrance of the senses, is an evil to the sensitive nature. That which is an hindrance of the appetitive and prosecutive faculty, is an evil to the sensitive nature. As of the sensitive, so of the vegetative constitution whatsoever is an hindrance unto it, is also in that respect an evil unto the same. And so likewise, whatsoever is an hindrance unto the mind and understanding, must needs be the proper evil of the reasonable nature. Now apply all those things unto thyself. Do either pain or pleasure seize on thee? Let the senses look to that. 
See B. IU. N. 1.  Hast thou met with some obstacle or other in thy purpose, and intention? If thou didst propose without due reservation and exception, now hath thy reasonable part received a blow indeed. But if in general thou didst propose unto thyself whatsoever might be, thou art not thereby either hurt, nor [properly] hindered. For in those things that properly belong unto the mind, she cannot be hindered by any man. It is not fire, nor iron; nor the power of a tyrant, nor the power of a slandering tongue; nor any thing else that can penetrate into her.  
XL. If once round and solid, there is no fear that ever it will change.  
XLI. Why should I grieve myself; who never did willingly grieve any other? One thing rejoiceth one, and another thing another. As for me, this is my joy; if my understanding be right and found, as neither averse from any man, nor refusing any of those things, which as a man I am subject unto; If I can look upon all things in the world meekly and kindly; accept all things, and carry myself towards every thing according to the true worth of the thing itself.  
XLII. This time that is now present, bestow thou upon thyself. They that rather hunt for fame after death, do not consider, that those men that shall be hereafter, will be even such, as these whom now they can so hardly bear with. And beside they also will be mortal men. But to consider the thing in itself, if so many with so many voices, shall make such, and such a sound, or shall have such, and such an opinion concerning thee, what is it to thee?  
XLIII. Take me and throw me where thou wilt: [I am indifferent.] For there also I shall have that Spirit which is within me propitious; that is well pleased and fully contented both in that constant disposition, and with those particular actions, which to its own proper constitution are suitable and agreeable.  
XLIV. Is this then a thing of that worth, that for it my soul should suffer, and become worse than it was? as either basely dejected, or disordinately affected, or confounded within itself, or terrified? What can there be, that thou shouldest so much esteem?  
XLV. Nothing can happen unto thee, which is not incidental unto thee, as thou art a man. As nothing can happen either to an ox, a vine, or to a stone, which is not incidental unto them; unto every one in his own kind. If therefore nothing can happen unto any thing, which is not both usual and natural; why art thou displeased? Sure the common nature of all would not bring any thing upon any, that were intolerable. If therefore it be a thing external that causeth thy grief, [know, that] it is not that properly that doth cause it, but thine own conceit and opinion concerning the thing: which thou mayest rid thyself of, when thou wilt. But if it be somewhat that is amiss in thine own disposition, that doth grieve thee, mayest thou not rectify thy dogmata [or, moral Tenets and opinions.] But if it gireve thee, that thou dost not perform that which seemeth unto thee right and just, why dost not thou choose rather to perform it then to grieve? But somewhat that is stronger than thyself doth hinder thee. Let it not grieve thee then, if it be not thy fault that the thing is not performed Yea but it is a thing of that nature, as that thy life is not worth the while, except it may be performed. If it be so, upon condition that thou be kindly and lovingly disposed towards all men, thou mayest be gone. For even then, as much as at any time, art thou in a very good estate of performance, when thou dost die in charity with those, that are an obstacle unto thy performance.  
XLVI. Remember that thy mind [is of that nature as that it] becometh altogether unconquerable, when once recollected in herself, she seeks no other content then this, that she cannot be forced: yea though it so fall out, that it be even against Reason itself, that it doth bandy. How much less when by the help of Reason she is able to judge of things with discretion? And therefore let thy chief fort and place of defence be, a mind free from passions. A stronger place, (whereunto to make his refuge, and so to become impregnable) and better fortified then this, hath no man. He that seethe not this, is unlearned. He that seethe it, and betaketh not himself to this place of refuge; is unhappy.  
XLVII. Keep thyself to the first [bore and naked] apprehensions of things, as they present themselves unto thee, and add not unto them. It is reported unto thee, that such a one speaketh ill of thee. Well; that he speaketh ill of thee, so much is reported. But that thou art hurt thereby, is not reported: [That is the addition of opinion, which thou must exclude.] I see that my child is sick. That he is sick, I see, but that he is in danger of his life also, I see it not. Thus thou must use to keep thyself to the first motions and apprehensions of things, as they present themselves outwardly; and add not unto them from within thyself [through mere conceit and opinion.] Or rather add unto them; but as one that understandeth the true nature of all things that happen in the world.  
XLVIII. Is the cucumber bitter? set it away. Brambles are in the way? avoid them. Let this suffice. 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Add not presently speaking unto thyself, What serve these things for in the world? For, this, one that is acquainted with the mysteries of Nature, will laugh at thee for it; as a Carpenter would or a Shoemaker, if meeting in either of their shops with some shave, or small remnants of their work, thou shouldest blame them for it And yet those men, it is not for want of a place where to throw them [that obey keep them in their shops for a while:] but the nature of the Universe hath no such out-place: but herein doth consist the wonder of her art and skill, that she having once circumscribed herself within some certain bounds and limits, whatsoever is within her that seems either corrupted, or old, or unprofitable, she can change it into herself, and of these very things can make new things, so that she needeth not to seek elsewhere out of herself either for a new supply of manner and substance, or for a place where to throw our whatsoever is irrecoverably putrid and corrupt. Thus she, as for place, so for matter and art, is herself sufficient unto herself.  
XLIX. Not to be slack and negligent; or lose, and wanton in thy actions, nor contentions, and troublesome in thy conversation, nor to rove and wander in thy fancies and imaginations. Not basely to contract thy soul: nor boisterously to fally out with it, [or, furiously to launch out as it were,] nor ever to want employment.  
L. They kill me, they cut my flesh: they persecute my person with curses. What then? May not thy mind for all this continue pure, prudent, temperate, just? As a fountain of sweet and clear water, though she be cursed by some slander by, yet do her springs nevertheless still run as sweet and clear as before, yea though either dirt or dung he thrown in, yet is it no sooner thrown, then dispersed, and she cleared. She cannot be died [or, infected] by it. What then must I do, that I may have [within myself] an overflowing fountain, and not a well? Beget thyself by continual [pains and endeavours] to [true] liberty with charity, and true simplicity and modesty.  
LI. He that knoweth not what the world is, knoweth not where he himself is. And he that knoweth not what the world was made for, cannot possibly know either what are the qualities, or what is the nature of the world. Now he that in either of these is to seek, for what he himself was made, is ignorant also. What then dost thou think of that man, who proposeth unto himself, as a matter of great moment, the noise and applause of men, who both where they are, and what they are themselves, are altogether ignorant? Dost thou desire to be commended of that man, who thrice in one hour perchance, doth himself curse himself? Dost thou desire to please him, who pleaseth not himself? or dost thou think that he pleaseth himself, who doth use to repent himself almost of every thing that he doth?  
LII. Not only now henceforth to 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  have a common breath [or, to hold correspondency of breath:] with that Air, that compasseth us about; but 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  to have a common mind [or, to hold correspondency of mind] also with that rational substance, which compasseth all things. For, that also is of itself, and of its own nature (if a man can but draw it in as he should:) every where diffused, and passeth through all things, no less than the Air doth, if a man can but suck it in.  
LIII. Wickedness in general doth not hurt the World. Particular wickedness doth not hurt any other: 
See before N. 32.  only unto him it is hurtful, [whosoever he be that offends,] unto whom [in great favour and mercy] it is granted, that whensoever he himself shall but first desire it, he may be presently delivered of it. Unto my  my neighbour's freewill, whoever he be, (as his life, or his body) is altogether indifferent. For though we are all made one for another, yet have our minds and understandings, each of them their own proper and limited jurisdiction. For else another man's wickedness might be my evil; which God would not have, that it might not be in another man's power; to make me unhappy: [which nothing now can do but mine own wickedness.]  
LIV. The Sun seemeth to be shed abroad. And indeed it is diffused but not effused. For that diffusion of it is a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or an extension. For therefore are the beams of it called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 from the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to be stretched out and extended. Now what a Sun beam is, thou mayest know if thou observe the light of the Sun, when through some narrow hole it pierceth into some room that is dark. For it is always in a direct line. And as by any solid body, that it meets with in the way that is not penetrable by air, it is divided and abrupted, and yet neither slides off, or falls down, but stayeth there nevertheless: such must the diffusion of the mind be: not an effusion, but an extension. What obstacles and impediments soever she meeteth with in her way, she must not violently, and by way of an impetuous onset light upon them; neither must she fall down; but she must stand, and give light unto that which doth admit of it. For as for that which doth not, [it is its own fault and loss, if] it bereave itself of her light.  
LV. He that feareth Death, either feareth that he shall have no sense at all, or that his senses will not be the same. Whereas, [he should rather comfort himself, that] either no sense at all, and so no sense of evil; or if any sense, than another life, and so no death [properly.]  
LVI. All men are made one for another either than teach them better, or bear with them.  
LVII. The motion of the mind, is not as the motion of a dart. For the mind when it is wary and cautelous, and by way of diligent circumspection turneth herself many ways, may then as well be said to go strait on to the object, [as when it useth no such circumspection.]  
LVIII. To pierce and penetrate into the estate of every one's understanding [that thou hast to do with:] 
See B. IX. N. 16 B. I. N. XI  as also to make the estate of thine own open, and penetrable to any other.   

THE NINTH BOOK.  
HE that is unjust, is also impious. For the Nature of the Universe, having made all reasonable creatures one for another, to the end that they should do one another good; more or less according to the several persons and occasions; but in no wise hurt one another: it is manifest that he that doth transgress against this her will, is guilty of impiety towards the most ancient and venerable of all the Deities. For the Nature of the Universe, is the nature [the common Parent of all, and therefore piously to be observed] of all things that are, and that which now is, to whatsoever first was, and gave it its being, hath relation of blood and kindred. She is also called Truth; and is the first cause of all truths. He therefore that willingly and wittingly doth lie, is impious in that he doth deceive, and so commit injustice: but he that against his will, in that he disagreeth from the nature of the Universe, and in that striving with the nature of the World he doth in his particular, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  violate the general order of the world. For he doth no better than strive and war against it, who contrary to his own Nature applieth himself to that which is contrary to truth. For Nature had before furnished him with instincts and opportunities [sufficient for the attainment of it:] which he having hitherto neglected, is not now able to discern that which is false from that which is true. He also that pursues after pleasures, as that which is truly good; 
See Note 5. upon B. II.  and flies from pains, as that which is truly evil, is impious. For such a one must of necessity oftentimes accuse that common Nature, as distributing many things both unto the evil, & unto the good, not according to the deserts of either: as unto the bad oftentimes pleasures, and the causes of pleasures; So unto the good, pains, and the occasions of pains. Again, he that feareth pains and crosses in the world, feareth some of those things which sometime or other must needs happen in the world. And that we have already shown to be impious. And he that pursueth after pleasures, will not spare, [to compass his desires] to do that which is unjust, and that is manifestly impious. Now those things which unto Nature are equally indifferent (for she had not created both, both pain and pleasure, if both had not been unto her equally indifferent:) they that will live according to Nature, must in those things (as being of the same mind and disposition that she is) be as equally indifferent. Whosoever therefore in either matter of pleasure and pain; death, and life; honour and dishonour, (which things Nature in the administration of the world, indifferently doth make use of,) is not as indifferent, it is apparent that he is impious. When I say that common Nature doth indifferently make use of them, my meaning is, that in the ordinary course of things, which by a necessary consequence (according to that first and ancient deliberation of Providence, by which she from some certain beginning, did resolve upon the creation of such a World, conceiving then in her womb as it were some certain rational generative seeds & faculties of things future, whether subjects, changes, successions; both such and such▪ and just so many:) whether as principal or accessory come to pass in the world, they happen indifferently.  
II. It were indeed more happy and comfortable, for a man to departed out of this World, having lived all his life long clear from all falsehood, dissimulation, voluptuousness, and pride. But if this cannot be, yet is it some comfort for a man [joyfully] to departed [as] weary, and out of love with those; rather then to desire to live, and to continue long in these wicked courses. Hath not yet experience taught thee to fly from the plague? For a fare greater plague is the corruption of the mind, than any certain change and distemper of the common air can be. This is a plague of creatures, as they are living creatures; but that of men as they are men [or reasonable.]  
III. Thou must not in matter of death, carry thyself scornfully, but as one that is well pleased with it, as being one of those things that Nature hath appointed. For what thou dost conceive of these, of a boy to become a young man, to wax old, to grow, to ripen, to get teeth, or a beard, or grey hairs; to beget, to bear, or to be delivered; or what other action soever it be, that is natural unto man according to the several seasons of his life; such a thing is it also to be dissolved. It is therefore the part of a wise man, in matter of death, 
See note upon B. XI N. 3.  not in any wise to carry himself either violently, or proudly; but patiently to wait for it, as one of Nature's operations: that with the same mind as now thou dost expect when that which yet is but an Embryo in thy Wife's belly shall come forth; thou mayst expect also when thy soul shall fall off from that [outward coat or skin:] wherein [as a child in the belly] it lieth involved and shut up. But if thou desirest a more popular, and though not so direct and philosophical, yet a very powerful and penetrative receipt against the fear of death, Nothing can make thee more willing to part with thy life, then if thou shalt consider, both what the subjects themselves are that thou shalt part with, and what manner of dispositions thou shalt no more have to do with. True it is, that offended with them thou must not be by no means, but take care of them, and meekly bear with them. However, this thou mayest remember, that whensoever it happens that thou depart, it shall not be from men that held the same opinions that thou dost. For that indeed, (if it were so) is the only thing that might make thee averse from death, and willing to continue here, if it were thy hap to live with men that had obtained the same belief that thou hast. But now, what a toil it is for thee to live with men of different opinions, thou seest: so that thou hast rather occasion to say, Hasten, I thee pray, O Death; lest I also in time forget myself.  
iv He that sinneth, sinneth unto himself. He that is unjust, hurts himself, in that he makes himself worse than he was before. Not he only that committeth, but he also that omitteth some thing, is oftentimes unjust.  
V If my present apprehension of the object be right, and my present action charitable, and this, towards whatsoever doth proceed from God, be my present disposition, to be well pleased with it, it sufficeth.  
VI To wipe away fancy, to use deliberation, to quench concupiscence, to keep the mind free to herself.  
VII. Of all unreasonable creatures, there is but one unreasonable soul; and of all that are reasonable, but one reasonable Soul, divided betwixt them all. As of all earthly things there is but one Earth; and but one light that we see by; and but one air that we breath in, as many as either breath or see. Now whatsoever partakes of some common thing, naturally affects & inclines unto that whereof it is part, being of one kind and nature with it. Whatsoever is Earthly, presseth downwards to the common Earth. Whatsoever is liquid, would flow together. And whatsoever is airy, would be together likewise. So that without some obstacle, and some kind of violence, they cannot well be kept asunder. Whatsoever is fiery, doth not only by reason of the Elementary fire tend upwards; but here also is so ready to join, and to burn together, that whatsoever doth want sufficient moisture to make resistance, is easily set on fire. Whatsoever therefore is partaker of that reasonable common Nature, [naturally] doth as much and more long after his own kind. For by how much in its own nature it excels all other things, by so much more is it desirous to be joined and united unto that, which is of its own nature. As for unreasonable creatures then, they had not long been, but presently begun among them swarms, and flocks, and brood's of young ones, and a kind of mutual love and affection. For [though but unreasonable, yet] a [kind of] soul these had, and therefore was that natural desire of union more strong and intense in them, as in creatures of a more excellent nature, then either in plants, or stones, or trees. But among reasonable creatures, begun commonwealths, friendships, families, public meetings, and even in their wars conventions and truces. Now among them that were yet of a more excellent nature, as the stars and planets, though by their nature fare distant one from another, yet even among them began some mutual correspondency and unity. So proper is it to excellency in a high degree to affect unity, as that even in things so fare distant, it could operate unto a mutual Sympathy. But now behold, what is now come to pass. Those creatures that are reasonable, are now the only creatures that have forgotten their natural affection & inclination of one towards another. Among them alone [of all other things that are of one kind] there is not to be found, a general disposition to flow together. But though they fly from Nature, yet are they stopped in their course, and apprehended. Do they what they can, Nature doth prevail. And so shalt thou confess, if thou dost observe it. For sooner mayest thou find a thing earthly, where no earthly thing is, then find a man that [naturally] can live by himself alone.  
VIII. Man, God, the World, every one in their kind, bear some fruits. All things have their proper time to bear. Though by custom, the word itself is in a manner become proper unto the vine, and the like, yet is it so nevertheless, as we have said. As for reason, that beareth both common fruit for the use of others; and peculiar, which itself doth enjoy. Reason is of a diffusive nature, what itself is in itself, it begets in others, and so doth multiply.  
IX. Either teach them better if it be in thy power; or if it be not, remember that for this use [to bear with them patiently] was mildness and goodness granted unto thee. The gods themselves are good unto such; yea and in some things, (as in matter of health, of wealth, of honour,) are content often to further their endeavours: so good and gracious are thy. And mightest thou not be so too? or, tell me, what doth hinder thee?  
X. Labour not as one [to whom it is appointed to be] wretched, nor as one that either would be pitied, or admired; but let this be thine only care & desire, so always and in all things to prosecute or to forbear, as the law of Charity [or, mutual society] doth require.  
XI. This day I did come out of all my trouble. Nay I have cast out all my trouble; it should rather be. For that which troubled thee, whatsoever it was, was not without any where [that thou shouldest come out of it] but within in thine own opinions, [from whence it must be cast out, before thou canst truly and constantly be at ease.]  
XII. All those things, for matter of experience are usual and ordinary; for their continuance but for a day; and for their matter, most base, and filthy. As they were in the days of those whom we have buried, so are they now also, and no otherwise.  
XIII. The things themselves [that affect us] they stand without doors, neither knowing any thing themselves nor able to utter any thing unto others concerning themselves. What then is it, that passeth verdict on them? The understanding.  
XIV. As virtue and wickedness consist not in passion, but in action; so neither doth the true good or evil of a reasonable charitable man consist in passion, but in operation and action.  
XV. To the stone that is cast up, when it comes down it is no hurt unto it; as neither benefit, when it doth ascend.  
XVI. Sift their minds and understandings, and behold what men they be, whom thou dost stand in fear of what they shall judge of thee, what they themselves judge of themselves.  
XVII. All things that are in the world, are always in the estate of alteration. Thou also art in a perpetual change, yea and under corruption too, in some part: and so is the whole world.  
XVIII. It is [not thine, but] another man's sin. [Why should it trouble thee?] Let him look to it, whose sin it is.  
XIX. Of an operation and of a purpose there is an ending [or, of an action and of a purpose we say commonly; that it is at an end:] from opinion also there is an [absolute] cessation, which is as it were the death of it. In all this there is no hurt. Apply this now to a man's age, as first, a child; then a youth, than a young man, than an old man; every change from one age to another is a kind of death. And all this while here is no matter of grief yet. Pass now unto that life, first, that which thou livedst under thy Grandfather, then under thy Mother, then under thy Father. And thus when through the whole course of thy life hitherto thou hast found and observed many alterations, many changes, many kinds of end and cessations, put this question to thyself, what matter of grief or sorrow dost thou find in any of these? [or, what dost thou suffer through any of these?] If in none of these, then neither in the ending and consummation of thy whole life, [which also is but] a cessation and change.  
XX. [As occasion shall require,] either to thine own Understanding, or to that of the Universe, or to his, [whom thou hast now to do with,] let thy refuge be with all speed. To thine own, that it resolve upon nothing against justice. To that of the Universe, that thou mayst remember, part of whom thou art. Of his, that thou mayest consider, whether in the estate of ignorance, or of knowledge. And then also must thou call to mind, that he is thy Kinsman.  
XXI. As thou thyself [who ever thou art] wert made for the perfection and consummation [being a member of it] of a common society; so must every action of thine tend to the perfection and consummation of a life that is [truly] sociable. What action soever of thine therefore that either immediately or afar off, hath not reference to the common good, that is an exorbitant, and disoderly action; yea it is seditious; as one among the people who from such and such a consent and unity, should factiously divide and separate himself.  
XXII. children's anger, mere babbles; wretched souls bearing up dead bodies, that they may not have their fall so soon: Even as it is in that common dirge song. [or, bearing up dead bodies, that the number of the dead, may not be full so soon.]  
XXIII. Go to the quality of the cause [from which the effect doth proceed.] Behold it by itself bare and naked, separated from all that is material. Then consider the utmost bounds of time that that cause, thus and thus qualified, can subsist and abide.  
XXIV. Infinite are the troubles and miseries, that thou hast already been put to, by reason of this only, because that for all happiness it did not suffice thee, [or, that thou didst not account it sufficient happiness,] that thy understanding did operate according to its natural constitution.  
XXV. When any shall either impeach thee with false accusations, or hatefully reproach thee, or shall use any such carriage towards thee, get thee presently to their minds and understandings, and look in them, and behold what manner of men they be. Thou shalt see, that there is no such occasion why it should trouble thee, what such as they are think of thee. Yet must thou love them still, for by nature they are thy friends. 
See before N. IX.  And the gods themselves, in those things that they seek from them as matters of great moment, are well content, all manner of ways (as by dreams and oracles) to help them [as well as others.]  
XXVI. Up and down, from one age to another, go the ordinary things of the world; being still the same. And either of every thing in particular [before it come to pass,] the mind of the Universe doth consider with itself and deliberate: And if so, then submit [for shame] unto the determination of [such an excellent] Understanding: or once for all it did resolve upon all things in general; and since that whatsoever happens, happens by a necessary consequence; and all things indivisibly in a manner and inseparably hold one of another. In sum, either there is a God, and then all is well; or or if all things go by chance and fortune, yet mayst thou use thine own providence [in those things that concern thee properly; and then art thou well.]  
XXVII. Within a while the Earth shall cover us all, and then she herself shall have her change. And then the course will be, from one period of eternity unto another, and so a perpetual eternity. Now can any man that shall consider with himself in his mind the several rollings [or, successions] of so many changes and alterations, and the swiftness of all these rollings; can he otherwise but contemn in his heart and despise all worldly things? The Cause of the Universe [or, the general cause] is as it were a strong torrent, it carrieth all away.  
XXVIII. And these your professed politicians, the only true practic of philosophers of the world, (as they think of themselves) so full of affected gravity, [or, such professed lovers of virtue and honesty,] what wretches be they in very deed; how vile and contemptible in themselves? O man! what a do dost thou keep? Do what thy nature doth now require. Resolve upon it, if thou mayest: and take no thought, whether any body shall know it or no. Yea, but [sayest thou] I must not expect a Plato's commonwealth. If they profit though never so little, I must be content; and think much even of that little progress. Doth then any of them forsake their former [false] opinions [that I should think they profit?] For without a change of opinions, alas! what is all that ostentation, but mere wretchedness of slavish minds, that groan privately, and yet would make a show of obedience [to Reason, and Truth?] Go too now and tell me of Alexander and Philippus, and Demetrius Phalaereus Whether they understood what the common nature requireth, & could rule themselves or no, they know best themselves. But if they kept a life, and swaggered; I (God be thanked) am not bound to imitate them. The effect of true philosopy is, unaffected simplicity, and modesty. Persuade me not to ostentation and vain glory.  
XXIX. From some high place as it were to look down, and to behold here flocks, 
See B. VII. N. 26.  and there sacrifices, without number; and all kind of navigation; some in a ruff and stormy sea, and some in a calm: the general differences, [or, different estates] of things, some, that are now first upon being; the several and mutual relations of those things that are together; and some other things that are at their last. Their lives also, who were long ago, and theirs who shall be hereafter, and the present estate and life of those many nations of Barbares that are now in the world, thou must likewise consider in thy mind. And how many there be, who never so much as heard of thy Name, how many that will soon forget it; how many who but even now did commend thee, within a very little while perchance, will speak ill of thee. So that neither fame, nor honour, nor any thing else that this world doth afford, is worth the while. The sum then of all; Whatsoever doth happen unto thee, whereof God is the cause, to accept it contentedly: whatsoever thou dost, whereof thou thyself art the cause; to do it justly: which will be, if both in thy resolution, and in thy action thou have no further end, then to do good unto others, as being that, which by thy natural constitution, [or, as a man:] thou art bound unto.  
XXX. Many of those things that trouble and straighten thee, it is in thy power to cut off, as wholly depending from mere conceit and opinion, and then thou shalt have room enough.  
XXXI. To comprehend the whole world together in thy mind, and the whole course of this present age to represent it unto thyself, and to fix thy thoughts upon the sudden change of every particular object. How short the time is from the generation of any thing, unto the dissolution of the same; but how immense and infinite both that which was before the generation, and that which after the generation of it shall be. All things that thou seest, will soon be perished, and they that see their corruptions, will soon vanish away themselves. He that dieth a hundred years old, and he that dieth young, shall come all to one.  
XXXII. What are their minds and understandings; and what the things that they apply themselves unto: what do they love, and what do they hate for? Fancy to thyself the estate of their souls openly to be seen. When they think they hurt them shrewdly, whom they speak ill of; and when they think they do them a very good turn, whom they commend and extol: O how full are they then of conceit, and opinion!  
XXXIII. Loss and corruption, is in very deed nothing else but change and alteration; and that is it, which the Nature of the Universe doth most delight in, by which, and according to which, whatsoever is done, is well done. For that was the estate of worldly things from the beginning, and so shall it ever be. Or wouldst thou rather say, that all things in the world have gone ill [from the beginning for so many Ages] and shall ever go ill▪ And then among so many Deities, could no Divine power be found all this while, that could rectify the things of the world? Or is the world, to incessant woes and miseries, for ever condemned?  
XXXIV. How base and putrid, every common matter is? Water, dust, [and from the mixture of these] bones, and all that loathsome stuff [that our bodies do consist of; so subject to be infected, and corrupted. And again [those other things that are so much prized, and admired, as] marble stones [what are they, but as it were] the Kernels of the Earth? gold and silver, [what are they, but as] the more gross faeces of the Earth? Thy [most royal] apparel, for matter, it is but as it were the hair [of a silly sheep] and for colour, the very blood [of a shell fish] of this nature are all other things. Thy life itself, is some such thing too; [a mere exhalation of blood:] and it also, apt to be changed into some other common thing.  
XXXV. Will this querulousnesse, this murmuring, this complaining and dissembling never be at an end? What then is it, that troubleth thee? Doth any new thing happen unto thee? What dost thou so wonder at? At the Cause, or the matter? Behold either by itself, [is either of that weight and moment indeed?] And besides these, there is not any thing. But thy duty towards the Gods also, it is time that thou shouldest acquit thyself of it with more goodness and simplicity.  
XXXVI. It is all one to see these things for a hundred of years together, or but for three years.  
XXXVII. If he have sinned, his is the harm, not mine. But perchance he hath not.  
XXXVIII. Either all things by the providence of Reason happen unto every particular, as a part of one general body; and than it is against reason that a part should complain of any thing that happens for the good of the Whole; or if [according to Epicurus] Atoms [be the Cause of all things] and [that life be] nothing else but an accidentary confusion of things, and [death nothing else, but] a mere Dispersion [and so of all other things:] what dost thou trouble thyself for?  
XXXIX. Sayest thou unto that Rational part, Thou art dead; corruption hath taken hold on thee? Doth it then also void excrements? Doth it like either Oxen, or sheep, graze or feed; [that it also should be mort all, as well as the body?]  
XL. Either the Gods can do nothing for us at all, or they can still and allay all the distractions and distempers of thy mind. If they can do nothing, why dost thou pray? If they can, why wouldst not thou rather pray, that they will grant unto thee, that thou mayst neither fear, nor lust after any of those [worldly] things [which cause these distractions, and distempers of it?] Why not rather, that thou mayst not at either their absence or presence, be grieved and discontented: then either that thou mayst obtain them, or that thou mayst avoid them? For certainly it must needs be, that if the Gods can help us in any thing, they may in this kind also. But thou wilt say perchance, In those things the Gods have given me my liberty: and it is in mine own power to do what I will. But if thou mayest use this liberty, rather to set thy mind at true liberty, then wilfully with baseness and servility of mind, to affect those things, which [either to compass or to avoid] is not in thy power, wert not thou better? And as for the Gods, who hath told thee, that they may not help us up even in those things that they have put in our own power? Whether it be so or no, thou shalt soon perceive, if thou wilt but try thyself and pray. One prayeth that he may compass his desire, to lie with such or such a one, pray thou that thou mayest not lust to lie with her. Another how he may be rid of such a one; pray thou that thou [mayest so patiently bear with him, as that thou] have no such need to be rid of him. Another, that he may not lose his child. Pray thou that thou mayst not fear to lose him. To this end and purpose, let all thy prayer be, and see what will be the event.  
XLI. In my sickness (sayeth Epicurus of himself:) my discourses were not concerning the nature of my discase, neither was that, to them that came to visit me, the subject of my talk; but in the consideration and contemplation of that, which was of especial weight and moment, was all my time bestowed and spent, and among others in this very thing, how my mind, by a natural and unavoidable sympathy partaking in some sort with the present indisposition of my body, might nevertheless keep herself free from trouble, and in present possession of her own proper happiness. Neither did I leave the ordering of my body to Physicians altogether to do with me what they would, as though I expected any great matter from them, [Or, as though I thought it a matter of such great consequence, by their means to recover my health:] for my present estate, me thought, liked me very well, and gave me good content. Whether therefore in sickness (if thou chance to sicken:) or in what other kind of extremity soever, endeavour thou also to be in thy mind so affected, as he doth report of himself: not to departed from thy philosophy for any thing that can befall thee, nor to give ear to the discourses of silly people, and mere naturalists.  
XLII. It is common to all trades and professions to mind and intent that only, which now they are about, and the instrument whereby they work.  
XLIII. When at any time thou art offended with any one's impudency, put presently this question to thyself; What? Is it then possible, that there should not be any impudent men in the world! Certainly it is not possible. Desire not then that which is impossible. For this one, (thou must think) whosoever he be, is one of those impudent ones, that the world cannot be without. So of the subtle and crafty, so of the perfidious, so of every one that offendeth, must thou ever be ready to reason with thyself. For whilst in general thou dost thus reason with thyself, that the kind of them must needs be in the world, thou wilt be the better able to use meekness towards every particular. This also thou shalt find of very good use, upon every such occasion, presently to consider with thyself, what proper virtue nature hath furnished man with, against such a vice, [or, to encounter with a disposition vicious in this kind.] As for example, against the unthankful, it hath given goodness and meekness, as an antidote, and so against another [vicious in another kind] some other peculiar faculty. And generally, is it not in thy power to instruct him better, that is in an error? For whosoever sinneth, doth in that decline from his purposed end, and is certainly deceived. And again, what art thou the worse for his sin? For thou shalt not find that any one of these, against whom thou art incensed, hath in very deed done any thing whereby thy mind (the only true subject of thy hurt and evil:) can be made worse, than it was. And what a matter of either grief or wonder is this, if he that is unlearned, do the deeds of one that is unlearned? Should not thou rather blame thyself, who, when upon very good grounds of reason, thou mightst have thought it very probable, that such a thing would by such a one be committed, didst not only not foresee it, but moreover dost wonder at it, that such a thing should be. But then especially, when thou dost find fault with either an unthankful, or a false man, must thou reflect upon thyself. For without all question, thou thyself art much in fault, if either of one that were of such a disposition thou didst expect that he should be true unto thee: or when unto any thou didst a good turn, thou didst not there bound thy thoughts, as one that had obtained his end; nor didst not think that from the action itself thou hadst received a full reward of the good that thou hadst done. For what wouldst thou have more? Unto him that is a man, thou hast done a good turn: doth not that suffice thee? What thy nature required, that hast thou done. Must thou be rewarded for it? As if either the eye for that it seeth, or the feet for that they go, should require satisfaction. For as these being by nature appointed for such an use, can challenge no more, then that they may work according to their natural constitution: so man being borne to do good unto others whensoever he doth a real good unto any [by helping them out of error;] or though but in middle things [as in matter of wealth, life, preferment, and the like] doth help to further their desires; he doth that for which he was made, and therefore can require no more.   

THE TENTH BOOK.  
O My soul, the time I trust will be, when thou shalt be good, simple, single, more open and visible, than that body by which it is enclosed. Thou wilt one day be sensible of their happiness, whose end is love, and their affections dead to all worldly things. Thou shalt one day be full, and in want of no external thing: not seeking pleasure from any thing, either living or unsensible, that this World can afford; neither wanting time for the continuation of thy pleasure, nor place and opportunity, nor the favour either of the weather or of men. When thou shalt have content in thy present estate, and all things present shall add to thy content: when thou shalt persuade thyself, that thou hast all things; all for thy good, and all by the providence of the gods: and of things future also shalt be as confident, 
See B. v. N. 8. last lines.  that all will do well, as tending to the maintenance and preservation in some sort, of his perfect welfare and happiness, who is perfection of life, of goodness, and beauty; Who begets all things, and containeth all things in himself, and in himself doth recollect all things from all places that are dissolved, that of them he may beget others again like unto them. Such one day shall be thy disposition, that thou shalt be able, both in regard of the gods, and in regard of men, so to fit and order thy conversation, as neither to complain of them at any time, for any thing that they do; nor to do any thing thyself, for which thou mayest [justly] be condemned.  
II. As one who is altogether governed by nature, let it be thy care to observe what it is that thy nature [in general] doth require. That done, if thou find not that thy nature, as thou art a living sensible creature, will be the worse for it, thou mayest proceed. Next than thou must examine, what thy nature as thou art a living sensible creature, doth require. And that, whatsoever it be, thou mayest admit of and do it, if thy nature as thou art a reasonable living creature, will not be the worse for it. Now whatsoever is reasonable, is also sociable. Keep thyself to these rules, and trouble not thyself about idle things.  
III. Whatsoever doth happen unto thee, thou art naturally by thy natural constitution either able, or not able to bear. If thou be'st able, be not offended, but bear it according to thy natural constitution [or, as nature hath enabled thee,] If thou be'st not able, be not offended. For it will soon make an end of thee, and itself, (whatsoever it be) at the same time end with thee. But remember, that whatsoever by the strength of opinion, grounded upon a certain apprehension of both [true] profit and duty thou canst conceive tolerable; that thou art able to bear that by thy natural constitution.  
iv Him that offends, to teach with love and meekness, and to show him his error. But if thou canst not, then to blame thyself, or rather not thyself neither, [if thy will and endeavours have not been wanting,]  
V Whatsoever it be that happens unto thee, it is that which from all time was appointed unto thee. For by the same cohaerence of causes, by which thy substance from all eternity was appointed to be, was also whatsoever should happen unto it, destinated and appointed.  
VI Either [with Epicurus, we must fond imagine] the atoms [to be the cause of all things] or [we must needs grant] a Nature. Let this then be thy first ground, that thou art part of that Universe, which is governed by nature. Then secondly, that to those parts that are of the same kind and Nature as thou art, thou hast relation of kindred. For of these, if I shall always be mindful, first as I am a part, I shall never be displeased with any thing, that falls to my particular share of the common chances of the world. For nothing that is behooveful unto the whole, can be [truly] hurtful to that which is part of it. For this being the common privilege of all natures, that they contain nothing in themselves that is hurtful unto them; it cannot be that the nature of the Universe (whose privilege beyond other particular natures, is, that she cannot against her will by any higher external cause be constrained,) should beget any thing [and cherish it in her bosom] that should tend to her own hurt and prejudice. As than I bear in mind that I am a part of such an Universe, I shall not be displeased with any thing that happens. And as I have relation of kindred to those parts that are of the same kind and nature that I am, so I shall be careful to do nothing that is prejudicial to the community, but in all my deliberations shall my Kind ever be; and the common good, that, which all my intentions and resolutions shall drive unto, as that which is contrary unto it, I shall by all means endeavour to prevent and avoid. These things once so fixed and concluded, as thou wouldst think him an happy citizen, whose constant study and practice were for the good and benefit of his fellow Citizens, and the carriage of the City such towards him, that he were well pleased with it; so must it needs be with thee, that thou shalt live a happy life.  
VII. All parts of the world, (all things I mean that are contained within the whole world,) must of necessity at some time or other come to corruption. Alteration I should say, to speak truly and properly; but that I may be the better understood, I am content at this time to use that more common word. Now say I, if so be that this be both hurtful unto them, and yet unavoidable, would not, thinkest thou, the whole itself be in a sweet case, all the parts of it being subject to alteration, yea and by their making itself fitted for corruption, as consisting of things different and contrary? And did nature then either of herself thus project and purpose the affliction and misery of her parts, & therefore of purpose so made them, not only that haply they might, but of necessity that they should fall into evil; or did not she know what she did, when she made them? For either of these two to say, is equally absurd. But to let pass nature in general, and to reason of things particular according to their own particular natures; how absurd and ridiculous is it, first to say that all parts of the whole are, by their proper natural constitution subject to alteration; and then when any such thing doth happen [as when one doth fall sick and dyeth] too take on and wonder as though some strange thing had happened? Though this beside might move not so grievously to take on when any such thing doth happen, that whatsoever is dissolved, it is dissolved into those things, whereof it was compounded. For every dissolution is either a mere dispersion, of the Elements into those Elements again whereof every thing did consist, or a change, of that which is more solid into Earth; and of that which is pure and subtle [or, spiritual;] into air. So that [by this means nothing is lost, but] all resumed again into those rational generative seeds of the Universe; and this Universe, either after a certain period of time to be consumed by fire, or by continual changes to be renewed, and so for ever to endure. Now that solid and Spiritual that we speak of, thou must not conceive it to be that very same, which at first was, when thou wert borne. For alas! all this that now thou art in either kind [either for matter of substance, or, of life;] hath but two or three days ago partly from meats eaten, and partly from air breathed in, received all its 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  influx, [being the same then in no other respect, than a running river, maintained by the perpetual influx and new supply of waters, is the same.] That therefore which thou hast since received, not that which came from thy Mother, is that which comes to change [and corruption.] But suppose that that [for the general substance, and more solid part of it] should still cleave unto thee never so close, yet what is that to the proper qualities, and affections of it, [by which persons are distinguished] which certainly are quite different?  
VIII. Now that thou hast taken these names upon thee of good, modest, true; of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; take heed least at any times [by doing any thing that is contrary,] thou be but improperly so called, and lose thy right to these appellations. Or if thou do, return unto them again with all possible speed. And remember, that the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 notes unto thee an intent and intelligent consideration of every object that presents itself unto thee, without distraction. And the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a ready and contented acceptation of whatsoever by the appointment of the common nature, happens unto thee. And the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a super-extention [or, a transcendent, and outreaching disposition] of thy mind, whereby it passeth by all bodily pains and pleasures, honour and credit, death and whatsoever is of the same Nature, [as matters of absolate indifferency, and in no wife to be stood upon by a wise man.] These than if inviolably thou shalt observe, and shalt not be ambitious to be so called by others, both thou thyself shalt become a new man, and thou shalt begin a new life. For to continue such as hitherto thou hast been, to undergo those distractions and distempers [as thou must needs] for such a life [as hitherto thou hast lived,] is the part of one that is very foolish, and is overfond of his life. Whom a man might compare to one of those halfe-eaten wretches, matched in the Amphitheatre with wild beasts; who as full as they are all the body over with wounds and blood, desire for a great favour, that they may be reserved till the next day, than also, and in the same estate to be exposed to the same nails and teeth as before. Away therefore, ship thyself, and [from the troubles & distractions of thy former life] convey thyself as it were unto these few Names; and if thou canst abide in them [or, be constant in the practice and possession of them] continue there [as glad and joyful] as one that were translated unto certain [truly and really so, not by way of name and appellation only] MAKAPON NHCOYC. Lands of the Blessed, [otherwise called, The Blessed Lands. And whensoever thou findest thyself, that thou art in danger of a relapse, and that thou art not able to master and overcome [those difficulties, and temptations that present themselves in thy present station:] get thee into any private corner, where thou mayest be better able. Or if that will not serve, forsake even thy life rather. But so that it be not in passion, but in a plain voluntary modest way: this being the only commendable action of thy whole life, that thus thou art departed [or, this having been the main work, and business of thy whole life, that thou mightest thus departed.] Now for the better remembrance of those names that we have spoken of, thou shalt find it a very good help, to remember the Gods [as often as may be;] and that, that which they require at our hands, of as many of us, as are by nature reasonable creatures; is not that [with fair words, and outward show of piety and devotion.] we should flatter them, but that we should become like unto them: and that as all other natural creatures, the Fig tree for example; the Dog, the Bee; both do, all of them, and apply themselves unto that, which by their natural constitution, is proper unto them; so man likewise should do that, which by his Nature, as he is a man, belongs unto him.  
IX. Toys and fooleries [at home;] wars [abroad:] sometimes terror, sometimes torpor, or, stupid sloth:] this is thy daily slavery. By little and little [if thou dost not better look to it] those sacred Dogmata will be blotted out of thy mind. How many things be there, which when as a mere naturalist, thou hast barely considered of according to their nature, thou dost let pass without any further use? Whereas thou shouldst i● all things so join action and contemplation, that thou mightest both at the same time attend all present occasions, to perform every thing duly, and carefully; and yet so intent the contemplative part too, that no part of that delight and pleasure, which the contemplative knowledge of every thing, according to its true nature doth of itself afford, might be lost. [Or, that the true and contemplative knowledge of every thing according to its own nature, might of itself, (action being subject to many lets and impediments) afford unto thee sufficient pleasure and happiness.] Not apparent indeed, but not concealed. And when shalt thou attain to the happiness of true Simplicity, and unaffected gravity? When shalt thou rejoice in the certain knowledge of every particular object according to its true Nature: as what the matter and substance of it is; what use it is for in the world: how long it can subsist: what things it doth consist of: who they be that are capable of it, and who they that can give it, and take it away?  
X. As the Spider, when it hath caught the Fly that it hunted after, is not little proud, nor meanly conceited of herself: as he likewise that hath caught an Hare, or hath taken a Fish with his net: as another for the taking of a Boar, and another of a Bear: so may they be proud, and applaud themselves for their valiant acts against the Sarmatae [or, Northern Nations lately defeated.] For these also, [these famous soldiers and warlike men,] if thou dost look into their minds and opinions, what do they for the most part but hunt after prey?  
XI. To find out, and set to thyself some certain way and method of contemplation, whereby thou mayest clearly discern and represent unto thyself, the mutual change of all things, the one into the other. Bear it in thy mind evermore, and see that thou be throughly well exercised in this particular. For there is not any thing more effectual to beget true magnanimity.  
XII. He hath got lose from, [or, he hath shaken off the bonds of] his body, and perceiving that within a very little while he must of necessity hide the World farewell, and leave all these things behind him, he wholly applied himself, as to righteousness in all his actions, so to the common Nature in all things that should happen unto him. And contenting himself with these two things, to do all things justly, and whatsoever God doth send to like well of it: what others shall either say or think of him, or shall do against him, he doth not so much as trouble his thoughts with it. To go on strait, whither right and reason directed him, and by so doing to follow God, was the only thing that he did mind, that, his only business and occupation.  
XIII. What use is there of suspicion at all? [or, why should thoughts of mistrust, and suspicion concerning that which is future, trouble thy mind at all?] What now is to be done, if thou mayest search and inquire into that, what needs thou care for more? And if thou art well able to perceive it alone, let no man divert thee from it. But if alone thou dost not so well perceive it, suspend thine action, and take advice from the best. And if there be any thing else that doth hinder thee, go on with prudence and discretion, according to the present occasion and opportunity, still proposing that unto thyself, which thou dost conceive most right and just. For to 〈◊〉 that aright, and to speed in one prosecution of it, must needs be happiness, since it is that only which we can. [truly and properly be said to] miss of, [or, miscarry 〈◊〉]  
XIV. What is that that is slow, and yet quick? merry and yet grave? Ho that in all things doth follow Reason for his guide.  
XV. In the morning as soon as thou art awaked [when thy judgement, before either thy affections, or external objects have wrought upon it, is yet most free and impartial:] put this question to thyself whether if that which is right and just be done, the doing of it by thyself, or by others [when thou art not able thyself] be a thing material or no. For sure it is not not. And as for these that keep such a life, and stand so much upon the praises, or dispraises of other men, hast thou forgotten: what manner of men they be? that such and such upon their beds, and such at their hoard: what their ordinary actions are: what they pursue after, and what they fly from: what thefts and rapines they commit, if not with their hands and feet, yet with that more precious part of theirs, their minds: which (would it but admit of them) might enjoy faith, modesty, truth, justice, a good spirit.  
XVI. Give what thou wilt, and take away what thou wilt, saith he that is well taught and truly modest, to Him that gives, and takes away. And it is out of a stout, and peremptory resolution, that he saith it, but in mere love and humble submission.  
XVII. So live [as indifferent to the world, and all worldly objects] as one who live● by himself alone upon some desert hill. For whether here, or there, if the whole world be was one Town, it matters not much for the place. Let them behold, and see a Man, that is a Man indeed, living according to the true nature of man. If they cannot bear with me, let them kill me. For better were it to die, than so to live [as they would have thee.]  
XVIII. Not to make it any longer a matter of dispute, or discourse, what are the signs and proprieties of a good man, but really, and actually to be such.  
XIX. Ever to represent unto thyself, and to set before thee, both the general Age, and Time of the World, and the whole Substance of it. And how all things particular in respect of these are for their substance, as one of the least seeds that is, [or, as the seed that is in a Fig:] and for their duration, as the turning of the pestle in the Mortar once about. Then to six thy mind upon every particular object of the World, and to conceive it, (as it is indeed,) as already being in the state of dissolution, and of change; tending to some kind of either putrefaction or dispersion; or whatsoever else it is, that is the death as it were of every thing in his own kind.  
XX. Consider them through all actions and occupations, of their lives: as when they eat, and when they sleep: when they are in the act of necessary exoneration, and when in the act of lust. Again, when they either are in their greatest exultation; and in the middle of all their pomp and glory; or being angry and displeased, in great state and majesty, as from an higher place, they chide and rebuke. How base, and slavish, but a little while ago, they were fain to be, that they might come to this; and within a very little while what will be their estate, [when death hath once seized upon them.]  
XXI. That is best for every one, that the common Nature of all doth send unto every one, and then is it best, when she doth send it.  
XXII. The Earth [saith the Poet] doth often long after the rain. So is the glorious sky often as desirous to fall upon the Earth, which argues a mutual kind of love between them. And so [say I] doth the world bear a certain affection of love to whatsoever shall come to pass. With thine affections shall mine concur, O World. The same (and no other,) shall the object of my longing be, which is of thine. Now that the World doth love as it is true indeed, so is it as commonly said, and acknowledged, when [according to the Greek phrase, imitated by the Latins, of things that use to be,] we say commonly, that they love to be.  
XXIII. Either thou dost continue in this kind of life, and that is it, which so long thou hast been used unto [and therefore tolerable:] or thou dost retire [or, leave the World] and that of thine own accord, [and then thou hast thy mind:] or thy life is cut off, and then [mayest thou rejoice that] thou hast ended thy charge. One of these must needs be. Be therefore of good comfort.  
XXIV. Let it always appear, 
See B. IV N. III.  and be manifest unto thee, that solitariness, and desert place, [by many Philosophers, so much esteemed of, and affected,] are of themselves but thus and thus; and that all things are here [too them that live in Towns, and converse with others:] as they are [the same nature every where to be seen and observed:] too them that have retired themselves to the top of mountains, and to desert Havens, or what other [desert and inhabited] places soever. For any where [if thou wilt] mayest thou quickly find and apply that to thyself, which Plato saith [of his Philosopher,] in a place; [as private and retired] saith he, [as if he were] shut up and enclosed about in some Shepherd's lane, on the top of a hill. There by thyself to put these questions to thyself [or, to enter into these considerations:] What is my chief and principal part, which hath power over the rest? What is now the present estate of it, as I use it: and what is it, that I employ it about? Is it now void of reason or no? Is it free, and separated; or so affixed, so congealed and grown together, as it were with the flesh, that it is swayed by the motions and inclinations of it?  
XXV. He that runs away from his Master, is a fugitive. But the law is every man's Master. He therefore that forsakes the Law, is a fugitive. So is he, whosoever he be, that is either sorry, angry, or afraid, or for any thing that either hath been, is, or shall be by his appointment, who is the Lord and Governor of the Universe. For he truly and properly is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [or, the Law] as the only 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 [or, distributer and dispenser:] of all things that happen unto any one in his life time. Whosoever then is either sorry, angry, or afraid is a fugitive.  
XXVI. From man is the seed, that once cast into the womb, man hath no more to do with it. Another Cause succeedeth, and undertakes the Work, and in time brings a Child (that wonderful effect from such a beginning!) to perfection. Again, Man lets food down through his throat; and that once down, he hath no more to do with it. Another Cause succeedeth and distributeth this food into the Senses, and the affections: into life and into strength; and doth with it those other many and marvelous things, that belong unto man. These things therefore that are so secretly, and invisible wrought and brought to pass, thou must use to behold and contemplate; and not the things themselves only, but the power also by which they are effected; that thou mayst behold it, though not with the eyes of the body, yet as plainly and visibly as thou canst see and discern the [outward] efficient cause of the depression and elevation of any thing.  
XXVII. Ever to mind and consider with thyself, how all things that now are, have been heretofore much after the same sort, and after the same fashion that now they are: and so to think of those things which shall be hereafter also. Moreover, whole dramata, and uniform scenes, [or, scenes that comprehend the lives and actions of men of one calling and profession:] as many as either in thine own experience thou hast known, or by reading of ancient histories; (as the whole Court of Adrianus, the whole Court of Antoninus Pius, the whole Court of Philippus, that of Alexander, that of Croesus:) to set them all before thine eyes. For thou shalt find that they are all but after one sort and fashion: [or, all of the same kind and nature:] only that the actors were others.  
XXVIII. As a pig that cries and flings when his throat is cut, fancy to thyself every one to be, that grieves [for any worldly thing] and takes on. Such a one is he also, who upon his bed alone, doth bewail the miseries of this our mortal life. And remember this, that unto reasonable creatures only it is granted that they may willingly and freely submit unto Providence: but absolutely to submit, is a necessity imposed upon all creatures equally.  
XXIX. Whatsoever it is that thou goest about, consider of it by thyself, and ask thyself, What? because I shall do this no more when I am dead, should therefore death seem grievous unto me?  
XXX. When thou art offended with any man's transgression, presently reflect upon thyself, and consider what thou thyself art guilty of in the same kind. As that thou also perchance dost think it a happiness either to be rich, or to live in pleasure, or to be praised and commended, and so of the rest in particular. For this if thou shalt call to mind, thou shalt soon forget thine anger: especially when at the same time this also shall concur in thy thoughts, that he was constrained [by his error and ignorance] so to do: For how can he choose [as long as he is of that opinion?] Do thou therefore if thou canst, take away that from him, that forceth him to do as he doth.  
XXXI. When thou seest Satyro, think of Socraticus, & Eutyches, or Hymen, and when Euphrates, think of Eutychio, and Sylvanus, when Alciphron, of Tropaeophorus, when Xenophon, of Crito, or Severus. And when thou dost look upon thyself, fancy unto thyself some one or other of the Caesars; and so for every one, some one or other that hath been for estate and profession answerable unto him. Then let this come to thy mind at the same time; And where now are they all? No where or any where? For so shalt thou at all times be able to perceive how all worldly things are but as the smoke, [that vanisheth away:] or, indeed, mere nothing. Especially when thou shalt call to mind this also, that whatsoever is once changed, shall never be again as long as the world endureth. And thou then, how long shalt thou endure? And why doth it not suffice thee, if virtuously, and as becometh thee, thou mayest pass that portion of time, how little soever it be, that is allotted unto thee?  
XXXII. What a subject, and what a course of life is it, that thou dost so much desire to be rid of. For all these things, what are they, but fit objects for an understanding, that beholdeth every thing according to its true nature, to exercise itself upon? Be patiented therefore, until that (as a strong stomach that turns all things into his own nature; and as a great fire that turneth in flame and light, whatsoever thou dost cast into it:) thou have made these things also familiar, and as it were natural unto thee.  
XXXIII. Let it not be in any man's power, to say truly of thee, that thou art not truly simple, [or, sincere and open,] or not good. Let him be deceived whosoever he be that shall have any such opinion of thee. For all this doth depend of thee. For who is it that should hinder thee from being either truly simple or good? Do thou only resolve rather not to live, than not to be such. For indeed neither doth it stand with reason that he should live that is not such. What [then]  it that may upon this present occasion according to best reason and discretion, either he said or done? For whatsoever it be, it is in thy power either to do it, or to say it, and therefore seek not any pretences, as though thou wert hindered. Thou wilt never cease groaning and complaining, until such time as that, what pleasure is unto the voluptuous, be unto thee, to do in every thing that presents itself, whatsoever may be done conformably and agreeably to the proper constitution of man, [or, to man as he is a man.] For thou must account that pleasure, whatsoever it be, that thou mayest do according to thine own Nature. And to do this, every place will fit thee. Unto the Cylindrus [or, roller] it is not granted to move every where according to its own proper motion, as neither unto the water, nor unto the fire, nor unto any other thing, that either is merely natural, or natural and sensitive, but not rational. For many things there be that can hinder their operations. But of the mind and understanding this is the proper privilege, that according to its own nature, and as it will itself, it can pass through every obstacle that it finds, and keep strait on forwards. Setting therefore before thine eyes this happiness and felicity of thy mind, whereby it is able to pass through all things [and is capable of all motions, whether] as the fire, upwards; or as the stone downwards, or as the Cylindrus through that which is sloping: [or, through a declivitie:] content thyself with it, and seek not after any other thing. For all other kind of hindrances [that are not hindrances of thy mind] either they are proper to the body, or merely proceed from the opinion, Reason not making that resistance that it should, but basely, and cowardly suffering itself to be foiled; and of themselves can neither wound, nor do any hurt at all. Else must he of necessity, whosoever he be that meets with any of them, become worse than he was before. For so is it in all other subjects, that that is thought hurtful unto them, whereby they are made worse. But here contrariwise, man (if he make that good use of them that he should) is rather the better and the more praise worthy for any of those kind of hindrances, than otherwise. But generally remember that nothing can hurt a natural Citizen, that is not hurtful unto the City itself, nor any thing hurt the City, that is not hurtful unto the Law itself. But none of these casualties, or external hindrances, do hurt the Law itself; [or, are contrary to that course of justice, and equity, by which public societies are maintained:] neither therefore do they hurt either City or Citizen.  
XXXIV. [As he that is bitten by a mad dog, is afraid of every thing almost that he seethe: so] unto him, whom the Dogmata have once bitten [or, in whom true knowledge hath made an impression] every thing almost [that he sees or reads] be it never so short or ordinary, doth afford a good memento; to put him out of all grief and fear, as that of the Poet, The winds blow upon the trees, and their leaves fall upon the ground. Then do the trees begin to bud again, and by the spring time they put forth new branches. So is the generation of men; some come into the world, and others go out of it. Of these leaves then thy Children are. And they also that applaud thee so gravely, [or, that applaud thy speeches, with that their usual acclamation, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or, O wisely spoken!] and speak well of thee, as on the other side, they that stick not to curse thee, they that privately and secretly dispraise and deride thee, they also are but leaves. And they also that shall follow, in whose memories the names of men famous after death, is preserved, they are but leaves neither. For even so is it of all these [worldly] things. Their Spring comes, and they are put forth. Then blows the wind, and they go down. And then in lieu of them grow others out of the wood [or, common matter of all things:] like unto them. But, to endure but for a while, is common unto all. Why then shouldest thou so [earnestly] either seek after these things, or fly from them, as though they should endure for ever? Yet a little while, and thine eyes will be closed up, and for him that caries thee to thy grave shall another mourn within a while after.  
XXXV. A good eye must be good to see whatsoever is to be seen, and not green things only. For that is proper to sore eyes. So must a good ear, and a good smell be ready for whatsoever is either to be heard, or smelled: and a good stomach as indifferent to all kinds of food, as a millstone, to whatsoever she was made for, to grind. As ready therefore must a sound understanding be for whatsoever shall happen. But he that saith, O that my Children might live! and, O that all men might commend me for whatsoever I do! is an eye that seeks after green things; or as teeth, after that which is tender.  
XXXVI. There is not any man that is so happy in his death, but that some of those that are by him when he dies, will be ready to rejoice at his [supposed] calamity. Is it one that was virtuous and wise indeed? Will there not some one or other be found, who thus will say to himself, Well now at last shall I be at rest from this Pedagogue. He did not indeed otherwise trouble us much: but I know well enough that in his heart, he did much condemn us. Thus will they speak of the virtuous. But as for us, alas! how many things be there, for which there be many that glad would be to be rid of us. This therefore if thou shalt think of whensoever thou diest, thou shalt die the more willingly, when thou shalt think with thyself, I am now to departed from that world, wherein those that have been my nearest friends and acquaintances, they whom I have so much suffered for, so often prayed for, and for whom I have taken such care; even they would have me die, hoping that after my death they shall live happier, than they did before. What then should any man desire to continue here any longer? Nevertheless, whensoever thou diest, thou must not be less kind and loving unto them for it; but as before, see them, continue to be their friend, to wish them well, and meekly, and gently to carry thyself towards them, but yet so that on the other side, it make thee not the more unwilling to die. But as it fareth with them that die an easy quick death, whose soul is soon separated from their bodies, so must thy separation from them be. To these had nature joined and annexed me: now she parts us; I am ready to departed, as from friends and kinsmen, but yet without either reluctancy, or compulsion. For this also is according to Nature.  
XXXVII. Use thyself, as often, as thou seest any man do any thing, presently (if it be possible) to say unto thyself, what is this man's end in this his action? But begin this course with thyself first of all, and diligently examine thyself [concerning whatsoever thou dost.]  
XXXVIII. Remember, that that which sets a man at work, and hath power over the affections to draw them either one way, or the other way, is [not any external thing properly but] that which is hidden within [every man's dogmata, and opinions:] That, that is Rhetoric; that is life; that (to speak true) is man himself. As for [thy body,] which as a vessel, [or, a case:] compasseth thee about, and the many and curious instruments that it hath annexed unto it, let them not trouble thy thoughts. For of themselves they are but as a carpenters axe; but that they are borne with us, and naturally sticking unto us. But otherwise, without the inward cause that hath power to move them, and to restrain them, those parts are of themselves of no more use unto us, than the shuttle is of itself to the weaver, or the pen to the writer, or the whip to the coachman.   

THE ELEVENTH BOOK.  
THE natural properties, and privileges of a reasonable soul are; That she seethe herself; that she can order, and compose herself: that she makes herself as she will herself: that she reaps her own fruits whatsoever, whereas plants, trees, unreasonable creatures, what fruit soever (be it either fruit properly, or analogically only;) they bear, they bear them unto others, and not to themselves. Again; Whensoever, and wheresoever [sooner, or later] her life doth end, she hath her own end nevertheless. For it is not with her, as with dancers, and players, who if they be interrupted in any part of their action, the whole action must needs be imperfect: but she in what part, of time, or action soever, she be surprised, can make that which she hath in her hand whatsoever it be, complete and full, so that she may departed with that comfort, I have lived; neither want I any thing of that which properly did belong unto me. Again, she compasseth the whole world, and penetrateth into the Vanity, and mere outside (wanting substance and solidity) of it, and stretcheth herself unto the infiniteness of eternity; and the revolution [or, restauration] of all things after a certain period of time, to the same state and place as before, she fetcheth about, and doth comprehend in herself; and considers withal, and sees clearly this, that neither they that shall follow us, shall see any new thing, that we have not seen, nor they that went before, any thing more than we: but that he that is once come to forty (if he have any wit at all) can in a manner (for that they are all of one kind) see all things, both passed, and future. As proper is it, and natural to the soul of man to love her neighbour, to be true and modest; and to regard nothing so much as herself: which is also the property of the Law: whereby [by the way] it appears, that sound reason and justice comes all to one, and therefore that justice is the chief thing, that reasonable creatures ought to propose unto themselves as their end.]  
II. A pleasant song or dance; the Pancratiastes exercise, 
See B. xii N. VI  [sport's that thou art wont to be much taken with,] thou shalt easily contemn, if the harmonious voice thou shalt divide into so many particular sounds whereof it doth consist, and of every one in particular shall ask thyself, whether this or that sound is it, that doth so conquer thee. For thou wilt be ashamed of it. And so for shame, if accordingly thou shalt consider it, every particular motion and posture by itself: and so for the wrestler's exercise too. Generally then, whatsoever it be, besides virtue, and those things that proceed from virtue [that thou art subject to be much affected with] remember presently thus to divide it, & by this kind of division, in each particular to attain unto the contempt of the Whole. This thou must transfer and apply to thy whole life also.  
III. That soul which is ever ready, even now presently (if need be) from the body, whether by way of Extinction, or Dispersion, or Continuation [in another place & estate] to be separated, 
Gr: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See the Notes.  how blessed, and happy is it? But this readiness of it, it must proceed, not from an obstinate and peremptory resolution of the mind, violently and passionately set upon opposition, (as Christians are wont;) but from a peculiar judgement; with discretion and gravity, so that others may be persuaded also & drawn to the like example, but without any noise and passionate exclamations.  
iv Have I done any thing charitably? then am I benefitted by it. See that this upon all occasions may present itself unto thy mind, and never cease to think of it. What is thy profession? to be good. And how should this be well brought to pass, but by certain Theorems and doctrines; Some concerning the Nature of the Universe, and some concerning the proper and particular constitution of man [or, by the true and Theoremeticall knowledge both of the nature of the Universe, etc.  
V Tragedies were at first brought in, and instituted, to put men in mind of worldly chances and casualties: That these things in the ordinary course of nature did so happen: That men that were much pleased and delighted by such accidents upon this stage, would not by the same things in a greater stage be grieved and afflicted: For here you see what is the end of all such things; and that even they that cry out so mournfully to Cithairon, must bear them [for all their cries and exclamations,] as well as others. And in very truth many good things are spoken by these Poets; as that (for example) is an excellent passage: But if so be that I and my two children be neglected by the Gods, they have some reason even for that, etc. And again, It will but little avail thee to storm & rage against the things themselves, etc. Again, To reap one's life, as a ripe ear of corn; and whatsoever else is to be found in them, that is of the same kind. After the Tragedy, the Comoedia vetus, or ancient Comedy was brought in, which had the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  liberty to inveigh against personal vices; being therefore through this her freedom and liberty of speech of very good use and effect, to restrain men from pride and arrogancy. To which end it was, that Diogenes took also the same liberty. After these, what were either the Media, or Nova Comoedia admitted for, but merely, (or for the most part at least) for the delight and pleasure of curious and excellent imitation? It will steal away; look to it, etc. Why, no man denies, but that these also have some good things [whereof that may be one:] But the whole drift and foundation of that kind of Dramatical Poetry, what is it else, but as we have said?  
VI How clearly doth it appear unto thee, that no other course of thy life could fit a true Philosophers practise better, than this very course, that thou art now already in?  
VII. A branch cut off from the continuity of that which was next unto it, must needs be cut off from the whole tree: so a man that is divided from another man, is divided from the whole Society. A branch is cut off by another, but he that hates and is averse, cuts himself off from his neighbour, and knows not that at the same time he divides himself from the whole body, [or, corporation.] But herein is the gift and mercy of God, the Author of this society, in that, [once cut off] we may grow together and become part of the Whole again. But if this happen often [the misery is that] the further a man is run in this division, the harder he is to be reunited and restored again: and however, the branch which, once cut off, afterwards was graffed in, gardener's can tell you is not like that which sprouted together at first, and still continued in the unity of the body.  
VIII. To grow together like fellow branches [in matter of good correspondence and affection;] but not in matter of opinions. They that shall oppose thee in thy right courses, as it is not in their power to divert thee from thy good action, so neither let it be to divert thee from thy good affection towards them. But be it thy care to keep thyself constant in both; both in a right judgement and action, and in true meekness towards them, that either shall do their endeavour to hinder thee, or at least will be displeased with thee [for what thou hast done.] For to fail in either (either in the one to give over for fear, or in the other to forsake thy natural affection towards him, who by nature is both thy friend and thy kinsman:) is equally base, and much savouring of the disposition of a cowardly fugitive soldier.  
IX. It is not possible that any nature should be inferior unto art, since that all arts imitate nature. If this be so; that the most perfect and general nature of all natures should [in her operation] come short of the skill of arts, is most improbable. Now common is it to all arts, to make that which is worse for the betters sake. Much more than doth the common Nature do the same. Hence is the first ground of Justice. From Justice all other virtues have their existence. For Justice cannot be preserved, if either we settle our minds and affections upon worldly things; or be apt to be deceived, or rash, and inconstant.  
X. The things themselves (which either to get or to avoid thou art put to so much trouble:) come not unto thee themselves; but thou in a manner goest unto them. Let then thine own judgement and opinion concerning those thing be at rest; and as for the things themselves, they stand still and quiet, without any noise or stir at all; and so shall all pursuing and flying cease.  
XI. Then is the Soul [as Empedocles doth liken it] like unto a Sphere, or, Globe, when she is all of one form and figure: When she neither [greedily] stretcheth out herself unto any thing, nor [basely] contracts herself, or lies flat and dejected; but shineth all with light, whereby she does see and behold the true nature, both that of the Universe, and her own in particular.  
XII. Will any contemn me? let him look to that, [upon what grounds he does it,] my care shall be that I may never be found either doing, or speaking any thing that doth truly deserve contempt. Will any hate me? let him look to that. I for my part will be kind and loving unto all, and even unto him that hates me [whomsoever he be] will I be ready to show his error, not by way of exprobration, or ostentation of my patience, but ingenuously and meekly: such as was that famous Photion, if so be that he did not dissemble. For it is inwardly that these things must be: that the gods [who look inwardly, and not upon the outward appearance,] may behold a man truly free from all indignation and grief. For what hurt can it be unto thee [whatsoever any man else doth] as long as thou mayest do that which is proper and suitable to thine own nature? Wilt not thou (a man wholly appointed to be both what, and as the common good shall require:) accept of that which is now seasonable to the nature of the Universe?  
XIII. They contemn one another, and yet they seek to please one another: and whilst they seek to surpass one another [in worldly pomp and greatness:] they most debase and prostitute themselves [in their better part] one to another.  
XIV. How rotten and unsincere is he, that saith, I am resolved to carry myself hereafter towards you with all ingenuity, and simplicity. O man, what dost thou mean! what needs this profession of thine? the thing itself will show it. It ought to be written upon thy forehead, No sooner thy voice is heard, than thy countenance must be able to show what is in thy mind: even as he that is loved knows presently by the looks of his sweetheart what is in her mind. Such must he be for all the world, that is truly simple and good, as he whose arm holes are offensive, that whosoever stands by, as soon as ever he comes near him, may as it were smell him whether he will or no. But the affectation of simplicity, is nowise laudable. There is nothing more shameful than perfidious friendship. Above all things, that must be avoided. [However] true goodness simplicity and kindness cannot so be hidden, but that [as we have already said] in the very eyes and countenance they will show themselves.  
XV. To live happily is an inward power of the soul, when she is affected with indifferency [or, indifferently affected] towards those things that are by their nature indifferent. To be thus affected she must consider all worldly objects both divided and whole: remembering withal that no object can of itself beget any opinion in us, neither can come to us, but stands without still and quiet; but that we ourselves beget, and as it were print in ourselves opinions concerning them. Now it is in our power, not to print them; and [if they creep in] and lurk in some corner, it is in our power to wipe them off. Remembering moreover, that this care and circumspection of thine, is to continue but for a while, and then thy life will be at an end. And what should hinder, but that thou mayest do well with all these things? For if they be according to nature, rejoice in them, and let them be pleasing and acceptable unto thee. But if they be against Nature, seek thou that which is according to thine own Nature, and whether it be for thy credit or no, use all possible speed [for the attainment of it:] for no man ought to be blamed, for seeking his own good and happiness.  
XVI. Of every thing [thou must consider] from whence it came, of what things it doth consist, & into what it will be changed: what will be the nature of it [or, what it will be like unto] when it is changed; and that it can suffer no hurt by this change. [And as for other men's, either foolishness, or wickedness, that it may not trouble and grieve thee;] First generally thus; What reference have I unto these? and that we are all borne for one another's good: Then [more particularly] after another consideration; as a Ram is first in a flock of Sheep, and a Bull in a Herd of cattles, so am I borne to rule over them. Begin yet higher, even from this: if Atoms be not the beginning of all things [then which to believe nothing can be more absurd] then must we needs grant that there is a Nature, that doth govern the Universe. If such a Nature, then are all worse things made for the betters sake; & all better for one another's sake. Secondly, what manner of men they be, at board, and upon their beds, and so forth. But above all things, how they are forced by their opinions that they hold, to do what they do; and even those things that they do, with what pride and self-conceit they do them. Thirdly, that if they do these things rightly, thou hast no reason to be grieved. But if not rightly, it must needs be that they do them against their wills, and through mere ignorance. For as [according to Plato's opinion] no soul doth willingly err, so by consequent neither doth it any thing otherwise than it ought, but against her will. Therefore are they grieved, whensoever they hear themselves charged, either of unjustice, or unconscionableness, or covetousness, or in general, of any injurious kind of dealing towards their neighbours. Fourthly, that thou thyself dost transgress in many things, and art even such another as they are. And though perchance thou dost forbear the very act of some sins, yet hast thou in thyself an habitual disposition to them, but that either through fear, or vain glory, or some such other ambitious foolish respect, thou art restrained. Fiftly, that whether they have sinned or no, thou dost not understand perfectly. For many things are done by way of discreet policy; and generally a man must know many things first, before he be able truly and judiciously to judge of another man's action. Sixtly, that whensoever thou dost take on grievously, or makest great woe, [little ●●est thou remember then] that a man's life, is but for a moment of time, and that within a while we shall all be in our graves. Seaventhly, That it is not the sins and transgressions themselves that trouble us properly; for they have their existence in their minds and understandings only, [that commit them;] but our own opinions concerning those sins. Remove then, and be content to part with that conceit of thine, that it is a grievous thing, and thou hast removed thine anger. But how should I remove it? [How?] reasoning with thyself that it is not shameful. For if that which is shameful, be not the only true evil that is, thou also wilt be driven [whilst thou dost follow the common instinct of Nature, 
See B. ●II  to avoid that which is evil,] to commit many unjust things, and to become a thief, and any thing, [that will make to the attainment of thy intended worldly ends.] Eightly, How many things may and do oftentimes follow upon such fits of anger and grief; fare more grievous in themselves, than those very things which we are so grieved or angry for. Ninthly, That meekness is a thing unconquerable, if it be true and natural, and not affected, or hypocritical. For how shall even the most fierce and malicious that thou shalt conceive, be able to hold on against thee, if thou shalt still continue meek and loving unto him; and that even at that time, when he is about to do thee wrong, thou shalt be well disposed, and in good temper, with all meekness to teach him, and to instruct him better? As for example; My son, we were not borne for this, to hurt and annoy one another; It will be thy hurt not mine, my son: and so to show him forcibly and fully, that it is so in very deed: and that neither Bees do it one to another, nor any other creatures that are naturally sociable. But this thou must do, not scoffingly, nor by way of exprobration, but tenderly without any harshness of words. Neither must thou do it by way of exercise, or ostentation, that they that are by and hear thee, may admire thee: but so always that no body be privy to it, but himself alone: yea, though there be more present at the same time. These nine particular heads, as so many gifts from the Muses, see that thou remember well: and begin one day, whilst thou art yet alive, to be a man indeed. But on the other side thou must take heed, as much to flatter them, as to be angry with them: for both are equally uncharitable, and equally hurtful. And in thy passions, take it presently to thy consideration, that to be angry, is not the part of a man, but that to be meek and gentle, as it savours of more humanity, so of more manhood. That in this, there is strength and nerves [or, vigour] and fortitude; whereof anger and indignation is altogether void. For the nearer every thing is unto unpassionatnesse, the nearer it is unto power. And as grief doth proceed from weakness, so doth anger. For both [both he that is angry & that grieveth] have received a wound, and cowardly have as it were yielded themselves [unto their affections.] If thou wilt have a Tenth also, receive this Tenth gift from [Hercules] the Guide and Leader of the Muses: That it is a mad man's part, to look that there should be no wicked men in the World, because it is impossible. Now for a man to brook well enough, that there should be wicked men in the World, but not to endure that any should transgress against himself, is against all equity, and indeed tyrannical.  
XVII Four several dispositions, [or, inclinations] there be of the mind and understanding, which to be ware of, thou must carefully observe: and whensoever thou dost discover them, thou must rectify them, saying to thyself concerning every one of them, This imagination is not necessary; This is uncharitable: This thou shalt speak as another man's slave, or instrument; than which nothing can be more senseless and absurd: For the Fourth, thou shalt sharply check and upbraid thyself, for that thou dost suffer that more divine part in thee, to become subject and obnoxious to that more ignoble part of thy body, and the gross lusts and concupiscences thereof.  
XVIII. What portion soever, either of air, or fire there be in thee, although by nature it tend upwards, submitting nevertheless to the ordinance of the Universe, it abides here below in this mixed body. So whatsoever is in thee, either earthy, or humid, although by nature it tend downwards, yet is it against its nature both raised upwards, and standing [or, consistent,] So obedient are even the elements themselves to the Universe, abiding patiently wheresoever (though against their Nature) they are placed, until the sound as it were of their retreat, and separation. Is it not a grievous thing then, that thy reasonable part only should be disobedient, and should not endure to keep its place: yea though it be nothing enjoined that is contrary unto it, but that only which is according to its nature? For [we cannot say of it when it is disobedient, as we say of the fire, or air,] that it tends upwards towards its proper Element, for than goes it the quite contrary way. [or, For we cannot say of it, as of the Elements, that it suffers against its own nature to be obedient: but rather when disobedient, then goes it a quite contrary course, to that which is natural unto it.] For the motion of the mind to any injustice, or incontinency, or to sorrow, or to fear, is nothing else but a separation from nature. Also when the mind is grieved for any thing that is happened [by the divine Providence] then doth it likewise forsake its own place. 
See B. XII. I.  For it was ordained unto holiness and godliness, [which specially consist in anhumble submission to God and his Providence in all things;] as well as unto Justice: these also being part of those duties, which as naturally sociable, we are bound unto; and without which we cannot happily converse one with another [or, without which common societies cannot prosper:] yea and the very ground, and fountain indeed of all just actions.  
XIX. He that hath not one and the self same general end always as long as he liveth, cannot possibly be one and the self same man always. But this will not suffice except thou add also what ought to be this general end. For as the general conceit and apprehension of all those things which upon no certain ground are by the greater part of men deemed good, cannot be uniform and agreeable, but that only which is limited, and restrained by some certain proprieties and conditions, as of community: [that nothing be conceived good, which is not commonly, and publicly good:] so must the end also that we propose unto ourselves, be common and sociable. For he that doth direct all his own private motions and purposes to that end, all his actions will be agreeable and uniform; and by that means will be still the same man.  
XX. Remember the fable of the country mouse, and the city mouse, and the great fright and terror that this was put into.  
XXI. Socrates was wont to call the common conceits and opinions of men, the common Lamiaes, or bugbears of the world: the proper terror of silly children.  
XXII. The Lacedæmonians at their public spectacula, were wont to appoint seats and forms for their strangers in the shadow; they themselves were content to set any where.  
XXIII. What Socrates answered unto Perdiccas, why he did not come unto him, Lest of all deaths I should die the worst kind of death, said he: that is, not able to requite the good that hath been done unto me.  
XXIV. In the ancient mystical letters of the Ephesians, [commonly called Ephesiae litterae] there was an Item, that a man should always have in his mind some one or other of the Ancient Worthies.  
XXV. The Pythagoraeans were wont betimes in the morning the first thing they did, to look up unto the heavens, to put themselves in mind of them who constantly, and unvariably did perform their task: as also to put themselves in mind of orderliness [or, good order] and of purity, and of naked simplicity. For no star or planet hath any cover before it.  
XXVI. How Socrates looked, when he was fain to gird himself with a skin, Xantippe his wife having taken away his clothes, and carried them abroad with her, and what he said to his fellows and friends, who were ashamed; and out of respect to him, did retire themselves when they saw him thus decked.  
XXVII. In matter of writing or reading thou must needs be taught before thou can do either: much more in matter of life. For thou art borne a mere slave, [to thy senses and brutish affections;] destitute [without teaching] of all true knowledge and sound reason.  
XXVIII. My heart smiled within me. They will accuse even virtue herself, with most heinous, and opprobrious words.  
XXIX. As they that long after figs in winter [when they cannot be had;] so are they that long after children, before they be granted them.  
XXX. As often as a Father kisseth his Child, He should say secretly with himself (said Epictetus,) To morrow perchance shall be die. But these words be ominous. No words ominous (said he) that signify any thing that is natural: In very truth and deed not more ominous than this, To cut down grapes when they are ripe. Green grapes, ripe grapes, dried grapes [or, raisons:] so many changes and mutations of one thing, not into that which was not absolutely [or, into so many several substances:] but rather so many successions of time in one and the self same subject, and substance. [or, so many several changes and mutations, not into that which hath no being at all, but into that which is not yet in being.]  
XXXI. Of the free will there is no thief or robber: out of Epictetus; Whose is this also: That we should find a certain art and method of assenting; and that we should always observe with great care and heed the inclinations of our minds, that they may always be with their due restraint and reservation, always charitable, and according to the true worth of every present object. And as for earnest longing, that we should altogether avoid it: and to use averseness in those things only, that wholly depend of our own wills. It is not about ordinary petty matters, believe it, that all our strife and contention is, but whether [with the vulgar] we should be mad, or [by the help of Philosophy] wise and sober, said he.  
XXXII. Socrates' said, What will you have? the souls of reasonable, or unreasonable creatures? Of reasonable. But what? Of those whose reason is sound and perfect? or of those whose reason is vitiated and corrupted? Of those whose reason is sound and perfect. Why then labour ye not for such? Because we have them already. What then do ye so strive and contend between you?   

THE TWELFTH BOOK.  
WHatsoever thou dost hereafter adspire unto, thou mayest even now enjoy and possess, if thou dost not envy thyself thine own happiness. And that will be, if thou shalt forget all that is past, and for the future, refer thyself wholly to the divine providence, and shalt bend and apply all thy present thoughts and intentions, to holiness and righteousness. To holiness, in accepting willingly whatsoever is sent by the divine providence, as being that which the nature of the Universe hath appointed unto thee, which also hath appointed thee for that, whatsoever it be. To righteousness in speaking the Truth freely, & without ambiguity; and in doing all things justly and discreetly. Now in this good course, let not other men's either wickedness, or opinion, or voice hinder thee: no, nor the sense of this thy pampered mass of flesh: for let that that suffers, look to itself. If therefore whensoever the time of thy departing shall come, thou shalt readily leave all things, and shalt respect thy mind only, and that divine part of thine, and this shall be thine only fear, not that some time or other, thou shalt cease to live, but that thou shalt never live to live according to Nature: then shalt thou be a man indeed, worthy of that world, from which thou hadst thy beginning; then shalt thou cease to be a stranger in thy Country, & to wonder at those things that happen daily, as things strange and unexpected, and anxiously to depend of diverse things [that art not in thy power.]  
II. God beholds our minds and understandings, bare and naked from these material vessels, and outsides, and all earthly dross. For with his simple and pure understanding, he pierceth into our inmost and purest parts, which from His, as it were by a water pipe and channel, first flowed and issued. This if thou also shalt use to do, thou shalt rid thyself of that manifold luggage, wherewith thou art round about encumbered. For he that does regard neither his body, nor his clothing, nor his dwelling, nor any such external furniture, must needs gain unto himself great rest and ease. Three things there be in all, which thou dost consist of; thy body, thy life, and thy mind. Of these the two former, are so fare forth thine, as that thou art bound to take care for them. But the third alone is that which is properly thine: from which (thy mind I mean:) if thou shalt sequester, and separate whatsoever other men either do or say, or whatsoever thou thyself hast heretofore either done or said; & all troublesome thoughts concerning the future, and whatsoever, (as either belonging to the body or life:) is without the jurisdiction of thine own will, and whatsoever in the ordinary course of humane chances and accidents doth happen unto thee; so that thy mind (keeping herself lose and free from all outward coincidentall entanglements; always in a readiness to departed:) shall live by herself, and to herself, doing that which is just; accepting whatsoever doth happen, and speaking the truth always; If I say thou shalt separate from thy mind, whatsoever by sympathy might adhaere unto it, and all time both passed and future, and shalt make thyself in all points and respects, like unto Empedocles his [allegorical] Sphere, all round and circular, etc. and shalt think of no longer life, then that which is now present: Then shalt thou be truly able to pass the remainder of thy days without troubles and distractions; nobly and generously disposed, and in good favour and correspondency, with that Spirit which is within thee.  
III. I have often wondered, how it should come to pass, that every man loving himself best, should more regard other men's opinions concerning himself, than his own. For if any God or grave Master standing by, should command any of us to think nothing by himself, but what he should presently speak out; no man were able to endure it, though but for one day. Thus do we fear more what our neighbours will think of us, than what we ourselves.  
IU. How comes it to pass, that the Gods having ordered all other things so well and so lovingly, should be overseen in this one only thing, that whereas there have been some very good men, that have made many covenants as it were with God, and by many holy actions, and outward services contracted a kind of familiarity with Him; that these men when once they are dead, should never be no more [or, should never rise again,] but be extinct for ever. But this thou mayest be sure of, that this (if it be so indeed;) would never have been so ordered by the Gods, had it been fit otherwise. For certainly it was possible, 
See Note 4. upon B. II.  had it been more just so; and had it been according to Nature, the Nature of the Universe would easily have borne it. But now because it is not so, (if so be that it be not so indeed) be therefore confident that it was not fit it should be so. For thou seest thyself, that now seeking after this matter, how freely thou dost argue and contest with God. But were not the Gods both just and good in the highest degree, thou durst not thus reason with them. Now if just and good, it could not be that in the creation of the world, they should either unjustly, or unreasonably oversee any thing.  
V Use thyself even unto those things that thou dost at first despair of. For the left hand we see, which for the most part lieth idle because not used; yet doth it hold the bridle with more strength than the right, because it hath been used unto it.  
VI Let these be the objects of thy ordinary meditation: to consider, what manner of men both for soul and body we ought to be, whensoever death shall surprise us: The shortness of this our mortal life: The immense vastness of the time that hath been before, and will be after us: the frailty of every worldly material object: all these things to consider, and behold clearly in themselves, all disguisement of external outside being removed and taken away. Again, to consider the efficient causes of all things: the proper ends and references of all actions: what pain is in itself, what pleasure, what death: what fame or honour, how every man is the true and proper ground of his own rest and tranquillity, and that no man can truly be hindered by any other: That all is but conceit and opinion. As for the use of thy Dogmata, thou must carry thyself in the practice of them, rather like unto a Pancratiastes, [or, one that at the same time both fights and wrestles with hands and feet, etc.] then a Gladiator. For this, if he lose his sword that he fights with, he is gone: whereas the other hath still his hand free, which he may easily turn, and manage at his will.  
VII. All worldly things thou must behold and consider, dividing them into matter, form, and reference, [or, their proper end.]  
VIII. How happy is man in this his power [that hath been granted unto him:] that he needs not do any thing but what God shall approve, and that he may embrace contentedly, whatsoever God doth send unto him?  
IX. Whatsoever doth happen in the ordinary course and consequence of natural events, neither the gods, (for it is not possible, that they either wittingly, or unwittingly should do any thing amiss) nor men, (for it is through ignorance, and therefore against their wills that they do any thing amiss:) must be accused. None then must be accused.  
X. How ridiculous and strange is he, that wonders at any thing that happens in this life in the ordinary course of nature!  
XI. Either Fate, (and that either an absolute necessity, and unavoidable decree; or a placable and flexible Providence:) or All is a mere casual Confusion, void of all order and government. If an absolute and unavoidable Necessity, why dost thou resist? If a placable and exorable Providence, make thyself worthy of the divine help and assistance. If all be a mere confusion without any Moderator, or Governor, than hast thou reason to congratulate thyself, that in such a general flood of Confusion, thou thyself hast obtained a reasonable Faculty, whereby thou mayest govern thine own life and actions. But if thou be'st carried away with the flood, it must be thy body perchance, or thy life, or some other thing that belongs unto them that is carried away: thy mind and understanding cannot. Or should it be so, that the light of a candle indeed is still bright, and lightsome until it be put out: & should Truth, and Righteousness, and Temperance cease to shine in thee whilst thou thyself hast any being?  
XII. At the conceit and apprehension that such and such a one hath sinned [thus reason with thyself] What do I know whether this be a sin indeed, as it seems to be? But if it be, what do I know but that he himself hath already condemned himself for it? And that is all one as if a man should scratch and tear his own face, [an object of compassion rather than of anger.] Again, that he that would not have a vicious man to sin, is like unto him that would not have moisture in the fig, nor children to weep, nor a horse to neigh, nor any thing else that in the course of nature is necessary. For what shall he do that hath such an habit? If thou therefore be'st powerful and eloquent, remedy it if thou canst.  
XIII. If it be not fitting; do it not. If it be not true, speak it not. Ever maintain thine own purpose and resolution free from all compulsion and necessity.  
XIV. Of every thing that presents itself unto thee, to consider what the true nature of it is, and to unfold it, as it were, by dividing it into that which is formal: that which is material: the true use or end of it, and the just time that it is appointed to last.  
XV. It is high time for thee, to understand that there is somewhat in thee, better and more divine then either thy passions, or thy sensual appetites and affections. What is now the object of my mind, is it fear, or suspicion, or lust, or any such thing? To do nothing rashly without some certain end; let that be thy first care. The next, to have no other end then the common good. For, alas! yet a little while, and thou art no more: no more will any, either of those things that now thou seest, or of those men that now are living, be any more. For all things are by nature appointed [soon] to be changed, turned, and corrupted, that other things might succeed in their room.  
XVI. [Remember] that all is but opinion, and all opinion depends of the mind. Take thine opinion away, and then as a ship that hath stricken in within the arms and mouth of the harbour, a present calm; all things safe and steady: a Bay, not capable of any storms and tempests: [as the Poet hath it.]  
XVII. No operation whatsoever it be, ceasing for a while, can be truly said to suffer any evil, because it is at an end. Neither can he that is the Author of that operation; for this very respect, because his operation is at an end, be said to suffer any evil. Likewise then, neither can the whole body of all our actions (which is our life:) if in time it cease, be said to suffer any evil for this very reason, because it is at an end: nor He truly be said to have been ill affected, that did put a period to this series of actions. Now this time or certain period, depends of the determination of Nature: sometimes of particular nature, as when a man dyeth old; but of nature in general, however; the parts whereof thus changing one after another, the whole world still continues fresh and new. Now that is ever best and most seasonable, which is for the good of the Whole. Thus it appears that death of itself, can neither be hurtful to any in particular, because it is not a shameful thing (for neither is it a thing that depends of our own will, nor of itself contrary to the common good) and generally, as it is both expedient and seasonable to the Whole, that in that respect it must needs be good. It is that also, which is brought unto us by the order and appointment of the divine providence; so that he whose will and mind in these things runs along with the divine ordinance, and by this concurrence of his will and mind with the Divine providence, is led & driven along, as it were by God himself, may truly be termed and esteemed the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Divinely led and inspired.  
XVIII. These three things thou must have always in a readiness: first concerning thine own actions, whether thou dost nothing either idly, or otherwise, than justice and equity do require: and concerning those things that happen unto thee externally; that either they happen unto thee by chance, or by providence; of which two to accuse either, is equally against reason. Secondly, what like unto our bodies are [or, what are the beginnings of our bodies] whilst yet rude and imperfect, until they be animated: and from their animation, until their expiration: of what things they are compounded, and into what things they shall be dissolved. Thirdly, [how vain all things will appear unto thee] when, from on high as it were, looking down, 
See B. VII. n. 26  thou shalt contemplate all things upon Earth, and the wonderful murability, that they are subject unto: considering withal, both the immensnesse of that Air, and of that Heaven [or, the infinite, both greatness and variety of things aerial and things celestial,] that are round about it. And that as often as thou shalt behold them, thou shalt still see the same: as the same things, so the same shortness of continuance of all those things. And, behold, These be the things that we are so proud, and puffed up for.  
XIX. Cast away from thee opinion, and thou art safe. And what is it that hinders thee from casting of it away? When thou art grieved at any thing, hast thou forgotten that all things happen according to the Nature of the Universe; and that him only it concerns, who is in fault; and moreover, that what is now done, is that which from ever hath been done in the world, and will ever be done, and is now done every where: how nearly all men are allied one to another by a kindred not of blood, nor of seed, but of the same mind. Thou hast also forgotten that every man's mind, partakes of the Deity; and issueth from thence; and that no man can properly call any thing his own, no not his son, nor his body, not his life; for that they all proceed from that One [who is the giver of all things:] That all things are but opinion; that no man lives properly, but that very instant of time which is now present [or, that all life properly doth consist in this present instant of time, 
See B. II. n. XII.  separated from the which is either past or future.] And therefore that no man [whensoever he dieth] can properly be said to lose any more, than an instant of time.  
XX. Let thy thoughts ever run upon them, who once for some one thing or other, were moved with extraordinary indignation; who were once in the highest pitch of either honour, or calamity; or mutual hatred and enmity; or of any other fortune or condition whatsoever. Then consider what's now become of all those things. All is turned to smoke; all to ashes, and a mere fable; and perchance not so much as a fable. As also whatsoever is of this Nature, as Fabius Catulinus in the field; Lucius Lupus, and Stertinius at Baiae; Tiberius at Capri: and Velius Rufus, and all such examples of vehement prosecution in worldly matters; let these also run in thy mind at the same time; and how vile every object of such earnest and vehement prosecution is; and how much more agreeable to true Philosophy it is, for a man to carry himself in every matter that offers itself, justly, and moderately, as one that followeth the Gods with all simplicity, For, for a man to be proud and high conceited, that he is not proud and high conceited, is of all kind of pride and presumption, the most intolerable.  
XXI. To them that ask thee, Where hast thou seen the Gods, or how knowest thou certainly that there be Gods, that thou art so devout in their worship? I answer first of all, that even to the very eye, they are in some manner visible and apparent. Secondly, neither have I ever seen mine own soul, and yet I respect and honour it. So then for the Gods, by the daily experience that I have of their power [and providence towards myself and others:] I know certainly that they are, and therefore worship them.  
XXII. Herein doth consist happiness of life, for a man to know theroughly the true nature of every thing; What is the matter, and what is the form of it: with all his heart and soul, ever to do that which is just, and to speak the truth. What then remaineth but to enjoy thy life in a course and cohaerence of good actions, one upon another immediately succeeding, and never interrupted, though for never so little a while?  
XXIII. There is but one light of the sun, though it be intercepted by walls & mountains, and other thousand objects. There is but one common substance of the whole World, though it be concluded and restrained into several different bodies, in number infinite. There is but one common soul, though divided into innumerable particular essences and natures. So is there but one common intellectual soul, though it seem to be divided. And as for all other parts of those Generals which we have mentioned, as either sensitive souls or subjects, these of themselves (as naturally irrational) have no common mutual reference one unto another, though many of them contain a Mind [or, Reasonable Faculty] in them, whereby they are ruled and governed [or, that hath power and authority over them.] But of every reasonable mind, this is the particular nature, that it hath reference to whatsoever is of her own kind, and desireth to be united: neither can this common affection, or mutual unity and correspondency, be here intercepted or divided, or confined to particulars [as those other common things are.]  
XXIV. What dost thou desire? To live long. What? To enjoy the operations of a sensitive soul; or of the appetitive Faculty? or wouldst thou grow, and then decrease again? Wouldst thou long be able to talk, to think and reason with thyself? Which of all these seems unto thee a worthy object of thy desire? Now if of all these thou dost find that they be but little worth in themselves, proceed on unto the last, which is, In all things to follow God and Reason. But for a man to grieve that by death he shall be deprived of any of these things, is both against God and Reason.  
XXV. What a small portion of  and infinite eternity it is, that is allowed unto every one of us, and how soon it vanisheth into the general age of the world: of the common substance, and of the common soul also what a small portion is allotted unto us: and in what a little clod of the whole Earth (as it were) it is that thou dost crawl. After thou shalt rightly have considered these things with thyself, fancy not any thing else in the world any more to be of any weight and moment but this, to do that only which thine own nature doth require; and to conform thyself to that which the common Nature doth afford.  
XXVI. What is the present estate of my understanding? For herein lieth all indeed. As for all other things, they are without the compass of mine own will: and if without the compass of my will, then are they as dead things unto me, and as it were mere smoke.  
XXVII. To stir up a man to the contempt of death this among other things, is of good power and efficacy, that even they who esteemed pleasure to be happiness, and pain misery, did nevertheless [many of them] contemn death [as much as any.] And can death be terrible to him, to whom that only seems good, which [in the ordinary course of nature] is seasonable? to him, to whom, whether his actions be many or few, so they be all good, is all one; and who whether he behold the things of the world [being always the same] either for many years, or for few years only, is altogether indifferent? O man! as a Citizen thou hast lived, and conversed in this great City [the World.] Whether just for so many years, or no, what is it unto thee? Thou hast lived (thou mayest be sure) as long as the Laws, and Orders of the City required; which may be the common comfort of all. Why then should it be grievous unto thee, if (not a Tyrant, nor an unjust Judge, but) the same nature that brought thee in, doth now send thee out of the world? As if the Praetor should fairly dismiss him from the scene [or, stage] whom he had taken in to act a while. Oh, but the play is not yet at an end, there are but three Acts yet acted of it? Thou hast well said: for in matter of life, three Acts is the whole Play. Now to set a certain time to every man's acting, belongs unto him only, who as first he was of thy composition, so is now the cause of thy dissolution. As for thyself, thou hast to do with neither. Go thy ways then well pleased and contented: for so is He that dismisseth thee.  
FINIS.   

NOTES UPON ANTONINUS.  

UPON The first Book.  
THe inscription of these Books is: M. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which I verily believe to be Antoninus his own, because both for propriety and obscurity so suitable to these his Books. I say both for propriety and obscurity: for as no other title could fit the subject of these books better, if rightly understood; so is the obscurity of it such, that few I think have penetrated into the true meaning of it. Not they I am sure, (as that ancient Greece Author, whom Suidas doth allege) who expound it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: much less they, (as Xylander and Lipsius) who translate it, De vita sua. Canterus comes nearer: De officio suo. But, de seipso (as Xylander himself in his first Edition had well rendered it, but ill expounded it, seu vita sua:) or Deses; as my Father (of blessed memory) doth render it in his Comments upon Persius, is both more literal, and more true by fare. Now by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, you must know, the Stoics understood 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a man's reason or intellectual part, and his opinions, by which he did frame and order the course of his life. Of all other things whatsoever, they held, that they were little or nothing at all unto man; (and therefore termed them 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or, things indifferent:) his mind and his opinions (in their judgement,) being the only thing, that every man in himself could properly call Himself. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Never either commend or discommend any man for ordinary common things (which men usually are either commended or discommended for:) but only for his dogmata, or, certain Tenets in points of life and practice. For they only are that which every man may truly account his own, and that only which can make actions either shameful or praiseworthy. See Antoninus himself Book VIII. Number (as for the ease and convenience of the Reader we have divided him) XXXVIII. And again B. X. n. XXXVII. Apuleius de Deo Socr. Si cotidiana corum aera dispungas, invenies in rationibus multa prodigè profusa, & in Semet nihil. In sui dico Daemonis cultum. If thou shalt run over their ordinary expenses (saith he) thou shalt find that upon many other occasions they have been very prodigal and excessive; but Upon Themselves at little or no cost at all. Upon their own Daemon [or, Spirit: See note 5. upon Book II.] I mean, etc.  
1. Both to frequent public Schools.] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, rendered by Xylander, ut ne in publicos ludos commearem, sed, etc. which by the plain and evident testimony of ancient Writers will appear most false. Witness the ancient Author cited by Suidas, who speaking of Antoninus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith he with great admiration:) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And that he did so to his dying day appeareth by that which followeth in the same writer. Tantum in eo studium Philosophiae fuit (they are the words of Julius Capitolinus in his life:) ut adscitus jam in Imperatoriam dignitatem tamen ad domum Apollonii discendi causae veniret. Audivit & Sextum Chaeronensem, etc. And again, Studuit & juri, audience L. Volusium etc. Frequentavit & declamatorum Scholas publicas, etc. So much I think will suffice, to make any man confess that it must be written, as I have interpreted, not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. or without any pronoun (if any man had rather have it so, because it is omitted in most places, though expressed in some towards the end,) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc.  
2. Not easily to believe those things which are commonly etc.] The words are, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the second edition:) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Xylander in his translation corrects it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; which is very probable. Suidas cities it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which I cannot altogether reject, because 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are words, that Antoninus doth often use, and to this purpose: as where he sayeth, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But in this sense I must confess, it should rather have been, 
Bas●p 242.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. However, that Antoninus by these words doth understand the Christians, I think probable for these reasons. First, because (as appeareth by the ancients) Christians were ordinarily accounted by the Heathens, and Christ himself held by them to have been a great Magician. Secondly, that the Heathens themselves, not only upon other occasions, but especially for Daemoniacs, and such as were possessed, made often use of Christians, appeareth by more than one passage of Tertullian: and in particular, how Lucilla daughter to this Antoninus, infested with the Devil, was cured by one Abercius, Bishop of Hieropolis; may be seen by the acts and particulars of it yet extant. Whether also those laws of Antoninus, made against them, qui sub obtentu & monitu deorum quaedam vel renunciant vel jactant, vel scientes effingunt, quo leves hominum animi superstitione Numinis terreantur, mentioned by Ulpianus and Modestinus, were made against Christians, as some are of opinion, I will not determine. Now if so be that Antoninus doth here intent the Christians, I do not see, how he could altogether discredit the truth of their strange and miraculous operations: especially if we give credit to those Acts extant, not as yet, that I know of, questioned by any: and that in general he should discredit all such operations as were accounted miraculous and supernatural, is much less credible: when as (besides many good reasons that might be given to the contrary:) the Christians themselves (as Athenagoras who then lived) did not deny, but that strange things in that kind were done and brought to pass among the very Heathens. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: That in some certain places and towns of several nations some operations (or, wonderful effects) are brought to pass in the name of Idols, is not by us denied: saith he in his Apology. I say therefore, except we much restrain Antoninus his words, of such, and such impostors, and of such, and such wonders; I do not see how he could profess that he did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 well he might; that is, first with best discretion and diligence examine things before he did believe them: and then in case the truth did appear, yet not as one of the silly multitude to stand amazed with a superstitious kind of astonishment, but as a wise man to consider of the causes and possibility of all such whether only seeming, because secret; or truly and really supernatural events and operations. For these reasons I conceive it should have been either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he did consider of them with discretion: or, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at least; that he gave no great heed unto such things; rather than so absolutely 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that he did not believe. But I determine it not. All this while, though my matter did in a manner lead me unto it, have I forborn to mention that great wonder, which in the days, & in the very presence of this Antoninus, happened in his wars of Germany, when God at the same time by a miraculous rain from heaven, both revived the Romans, which were now at the last cast, having lost already many of their number, which perished for want of water; and overthrew their enemies in the height of their greatest hopes and security: acknowledged by all generally as well Heathens as Christians, miraculous; but by the Heathens, ascribed, by some of them, to God immediately; by others, to art Magic; and by the Christians, both Fathers and Historians, to the Name of Christ, at the Intercession of some Christian Soldiers of the army. Before I would ground any thing upon this story, I must first profess my mind concerning some circumstances of it, wherein I may perchance be found to differ from others; and that I would be loath to do but upon very good grounds, which would require a large discourse; and therefore it is, that I have declined it. I will only tell you (because it may concern Antoninus, that you know it:) what some learned men have judged of those letters, which in these days go under Antoninus his name as written by him to the Senate about this matter (produced by Baron and others;) which is, that they are either supposititiae, aut saltem interpolatae. Capp. Hist. Eccles. p. 42.  
3. Not to keep coturnices] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. How marveilously and even madly some men were wont to affect such things, may appear by the composition of the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which among other examples of the like composition as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. is set down by Athenaeus lib. 11.  
4. I did write Dialogues in my youth] in imitation of Plato and others: to good purpose, as Antoninus did it; but not as many others, who took a pride in it, and thought themselves fine fellows for it. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉! Behold how bravely I can write Dialogues! saith a vain glorious Stoic, Arr. lib. 2. cap. 1. The next words may be conferred with those of Capitolinus in this Emperor's life: Duodecimum annum ingressus habitum philosophi sumpsit, & deinceps tolerantiam, cum studeret in pallio, & humi cubaret: vix autem matre agente instrato pellibus lectulo accubaret. Thus may many other places be compared with the like either of Capitolinus, or others that have written his life, or, of him, which will be no great labour for any to do, that desires to understand this book, and would be too tedious for me to undertake: which I desire the reader to take notice of.  
5. That I did never affect by way of ostentation] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. Of this kind of vanity see Epictetus in Arrianus at large lib. 6. cap. 12. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
6. Epictetus' his Hypomuemata] collected and set out by Arrianus his Scholar, and so called and entitled by Arrianus himself, in his preface before the said books: as learned Master Young, the worthy keeper of the King's Library, and my kind friend had noted in the Margin of that Antoninus, which he did lend me.  
7. A man not subject to be vexed] Antoninus' his words are, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Xylander translates them, Tum etiam ut in percipienda doctrina me non morosum praeberem: sed circumspicerem de homine qui palam experientiam, & in tradend●s scienti●… facultatem minimum suorum bonoru● putaret, praeterea modum beneficia (ut iis videntur) ab amicis accipiendi, ne vel accepta ea nos viliores redderent vel etc. The reason of that limitation, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as commonly they are accounted,) added by Antoninus to the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is, because that favours and courtesies may be thought a thing arbitrary, which either to perform or to omit wholly depends of our own good will and discretion; whereas all possible good turns and good offices of what kind or extent soever, that one man can perform unto another, are, by Antoninus his philosophy, mere duties of nature, and right reason: which all men as men, are ęqually obliged unto. So afterwards using the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of things external and worldly against the pręcise decrees of the Stoics, he restrains it likewise with a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: honours and dignities, as commonly they are accounted.  
8. Not to be offended with Idiots, nor unseasonably to set] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. There was not any thing more ordinary with their vain glorious affected Stoics, then in all places & upon all occasions, semper crepare Theoremata, To be ever talking and disputing about their Theorems and proper Tenets: so that this very word Theoremata, became almost infamous, through their abusę and vanity. To repress this abuse, the learned Stoics, who are yet extant, have many caveats and serious admonitions. But most pertinent here are Epictetus his words cap. 68 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which he repeats in the very next chapter also 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are words so frequent and ordinary, in the writings of the Stoics appropriated by them, to them, that they called Idiots, as men that in very deed saw nothing as it was, nor knew the true nature of any thing, but were altogether led by fancies and opinions: that I shall not need to produce any examples. Now for the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that I offer it no violence to translate it as I do, may appear by this passage of Diog. Laertius, who writes that the Stoics called virtues some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. If this would not serve, with little alteration it might have been read to the same purpose 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. For in the Stoics language 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (taken in another sense) and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are all one thing; as I could easily have showed.  
9 Who are commonly called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉] His meaning by these words I take to be no other, then, That Great men are not commonly so tenderhearted. Some such thing it was that Antoninus Pius alluded unto when in excuse of this our Antoninus his (as it was thought by others) unseemly lamentation, for the death of his Foster-father, he used these words: Permittite illi ut homo sit, neque enim vel Philosophia, vel Imperium tollit affectus. The word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, some lines after: I might have translated, I know, more literally. But than would it have been taken by many of the Vulgar, quite contrary to Antoninus his meaning: whose meaning we may best know by his form of Government, which he never went about to alter, that I know of. He might also allude perchance to that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that he speaketh of lib. 9 towards the end.  
10. From Claudius Maximus] it is printed, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. whereas in all the other examples from the beginning to the end, it is constantly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. But that here also it must of necessity be so, may be collected by these words following some few lines after, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. which words if you refer to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, you cannot possibly make any sense of. But if unto 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it will be here, as in other places, where this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 must be paraphrased, not only, I have learned from, but also, I have observed in; as in the example immediately before. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. It was written it seems 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. which was turned into 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That this Maximus surname was Claudius we learn by the Historians. Capitolinus. Audivit & Sextum Chaeronensem, Plutarchi nepotem, junium Rusticum, Claudium Maximum & Cinnam Catulum, Stoicos.  
11. And patiented hearing of others] in the Greece 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which words do not well hang together as any man may see. My Father in his Notes upon Jul. Capitol. cities this place, and writes it thus: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. which may very well be, if you conceive those words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. (as it seems my Father would have it:) not as Antoninus own words, but as taken by him from some other, and here applied; as indeed he doth often; and so here perchance. Otherwise, I should like better, that the words were thus read, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. which I have followed in my translation.  
12. And kept an account of the common expenses] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Capitolinus in his life, Rationes omnium provinciarum apprimè scivit, & vectigalium, etc. This book of accounts was called Rationarium Imperij: and it was kept very strictly by many Emperors, but not so strictly by any as by this Antoninus; who therefore was called by some in scorn 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as Xiphilinus recordeth, and is here intimated by our Antoninus; who toucheth upon it again, B. 6. n. XXV III. See also Julian, in his Casares. But as patiented as he was, I doubt much whether he would have borne with any man, that should have reported that of him, which Xylander (not Antoninus:) doth here, who translates this passage: Sumptus procurabat, neque detrectabat de iis rebus causar● dicere: which is little better than of a meek & patiented prince, to make him an obnoxious subject. Now if the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be not found in other Greece authors in this very sense, yet is it a most proper word for Anton. his purpose. For what is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 properly, but rigour? and rigour was the word, that was then used among the Latins upon this occasion. So Valerianus in his Epistle written in the behalf of Aurelianus, Vellemus q. (saith he) singulis devotissimis Reipub. viris multo maiora deferre compondia— sed facit rigor publicus ut accipere de provinciarum oblationibus ultra ordinis sui gradum nemo plus possit, etc. Flau. Vopiscus, in the life of Aurelianus the Emperor.  
13. That he never was commended by any man] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. The Greece words may be interpreted, either that he never so commended others, or, (as we have rendered it,) that he never was by others so commended himself. For both interpretations, probable reasons may be given. As for the first, That such a man as Antoninus was, should not be commended by any, for an officious obsequious man should be no wonder, a man would think, but rather a wonder if he should. Neither do these other titles of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sat so well with the person of a Prince, that the omission of them should be noted and recorded, as a matter observable. But that so ingenuous a man as Antoninus was, should never commend in any other those saidparts and faculties mentioned, is not in any man's judgement, I think, without some wonder; and in the judgement of a Stoic, must needs be very commendable: out of the school of which Sect proceeded this decree: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; etc. Never either commend or discommend any man for any thing that is common & popular, but only for his Dogmata or certain Tenets in point of life and practice; for they only are that which every man may truly account his own, and that only which can make our actions either shameful or praiseworthy: as by Epictetus in Arrianus, you shall find more than once expressed. But now on the other side, that which Antoninus not many lines after doth add of his Father's care, that all in any profession (as Orators by name) excellent might according to their desert be reputed and respected in the world; and that which in the sixth book he doth more clearly set down of the same among other things, that he was not sophists; doth as pregnantly cross and overthrow that former interpretation. Neither is it necessary, that what is here said of Pius, must be understood of him when Emperor; which he was not till the year of his life 53. or thereabouts. And as for those other commendations of Sophista and Scholasticus (words then, of the same or little different signification:) they were generally then, and many years after, titles of that high credit and esteem, that the greatest that were, as they disdained not the practice, so they were for the most part, very ambitious of the Name. That interpretation of the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (whereof 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I suppose to be but an illiterate, though literal glossema from the margin crept into the Text:) anofficious obsequious man, I have collected from the use of the words vernilitas and verniliter, for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. which I have found in Horace, Seine a and others. But a better interpreter of Antoninus his mind (though he was before him) we cannot desire then Epictetus, who, if I mistake not much, what ours intended by the words 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, doth more plainly express by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; a man of a sweet and pleasing conversation: by whom also, both how ambitious men were generally of this commendation, and how incompatible (as it was used:) the Stoics esteemed it with true virtue, we may further learn, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. For if of the two (saith he) thou hadst rather be a true modest grave man, then hear they self thus commended: O what a loving sweet man this is! then away with these, etc. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. But if otherwise, etc. Arrianus lib. 4. cap. 2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
14. Having a respect unto men only as men] in the Greece 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which I think should be read,— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 scil. or, for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I read it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) must needs have reference to some former reason. Now that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is a very good reason, these other passages of Antoninus may declare, lib. 8. n. XXII. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Shall I do it? yeas; I will: and the end of my action shall be, to do good unto men: that is, and my comfort shall be, that I do it for the good and benefit of men. And in the ninth Book n. XLIII. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Thou hast done a good turn to a man: what wouldst thou more? is not this sufficient? must thou also for a thing done according to thy nature be rewarded? many other like passages there be. And here I think it will not be unseasonable to note, that he that reads the writings of the Stoics, must not always too preciscly stand upon the ordinary use and construction of words. For besides that they were miri verborum novatores (as Cicero somewhere speaketh of them) and coiners of new words (in this little book you may observe many words not any where else to be read that I know:) them Master Chrysippus had taught them (as is recorded by Plutar.) not to think much if at any time they committed either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; even such soloecismes which most others would be ashamed of. For one thing I cannot but highly commend them, that they would express their thoughts, though commonly with words very proper and significant, yet in a style so free from all affectation or curiosity (such as is this of our Antoninus, that of Epictetus and some others) as cometh next to the simplicity of the holy Scriptures.  
15. ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀] The Greece words, as they are printed are, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Two learned men have had already to do with this place, and several ways have gone about to correct it; as may be seen in their Notes and Comments upon the Augustae Historiae scriptores. I may not interpose myself as a Judge between them, for many reasons: and perchance some reasons I could give, if I were to speak my mind freely, why I would follow neither. The case so standing, that I neither knew how to mend them myself, nor yet was sully satisfied with their conjectures, I thought good not to meddle with the place at all, and therefore have noted it as an imperfect place, though my opinion be (I must confess) that it is rather obscure then imperfect; and that very little alteration will serve the turn. The best is, the drist and scope of it, is apparent enough by the words before.  
16. To live in the Court without either guards or followers] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Lipsius' in his Comments upon Tacitus takes it for granted, that this place must needs be understood of those things which were properly called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or, Insignia Imperii. Indeed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I confess, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is commonly the first that is reckoned among these particulars; and yet the words are not so proper to express the Royal guard, but they are sometimes used of any troop or company, that either in duty, good will, or respect, attend any one, though he be neither King nor Prince, as for the words 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which he translates by Purpura they contain no more than extraordinary apparel in general; All the question is, by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 what is to be understood. By 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or fire (saith Lipsius:) which Herodian testifieth was wont in his time to be carried before the Emperor, as Insigne Majestatis. A strange thing to me it is, if this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 were a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 indeed, that Herodian making mention of it so often as he doth (four several times at the least) should never call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but always 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But if this were granted of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, what are these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that Antoninus speaks of here? doth any other Author mention any such thing among the Insignia Imperis? That indeed the ancient Romans had their cubiculares' imagines (as is observed by my Father upon Suetonius:) and that the latter Emperors of Rome did keep a Fortunam Auream in their bedchambers as Insigne Imperii, I know. Of these I am sure these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here mentioned cannot be understood, and Lipsius tells us nothing of them at all, nor any other that I know. For my part I rather think that Antoninus doth not here speak of those Insignia particularly, but that he doth instance in these particulars, as particulars of worldly pomp and magnificence in general: which he himself by those words (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) doth seem to intimate. Now among those many descriptions of great worldly pomp and magnificence, that have been made by ancient authors, there is not any that hath been more taken notice of (imitated since by others, and among others by Virgil himself in his Culex:) then that of Lucretius, in his second Book, the very beginning whereof is,  
Si non aurea sunt Juvenum Simulachra per aedes,  
Lampadas igniferas manibus retinentia dextris  
jumina nocturnis epulis ut suppoditentur. etc.  
And yet long before Lucretius, had a greater Poet, even Homer the Poet of Poets, used the same expression, whom Lucretius herein doth seem rather to translate then imitate: for as their sense so their words are the same without any difference, but of the language. Homer's words in the description of Alcinous his Palace are these:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Where though there could be no great doubt of it, yet since the Scholiast, thought good to make a note of it, I think it not impertinent, to transcribe it hither from him, that by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are to be understood 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: which is the word by Antoninus here used. I need not to say more. Let the reader judge. I must only add, that whereas Antoninus may be thought to commit a kind of Tautology in these words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, his meaning by those 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is, to distinguish those 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 from ordinary common ones such as were in every Romans house almost, which could be no fit instance of great excess and sumptuousness; but Such and Such, as were ordinary among the great ones and in great places.  
17. So that as for the Gods] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; etc. Xyl. Quod ad Deos attineret— nihil jam obstare, quin aut secundum naturam viverem, aut non. Atque hoc quidem fore mea culpa, qui Deûm monitus, etc. Between the particles 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, there is a manifest opposition, which Xylander did not observe. The words otherwise I confess are somewhat intricate and confused. Not long after, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is by Xylander rendered, Hocque Caietae sicut Chraesae, as if it had been, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: which although Xylander do not so well like of in his Notes, and therefore I may the better be excused, if I did not follow him; yet now upon better consideration I durst undertake to maintain it both against Xylander himself and my translation. For Caieta we know, was an Haven town of Campania in Italy; where Antoninus as it should seem, having been an earnest suitor by the sea shore, whether to Apollo, or any other Heathen God for some thing or other, wherein he conceived himself afterwards to have been heard; it could not but put him in mind of Chryses, Apollo's priest, who is described in Homer Iliad. 1. earnestly praying 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; that is, by the seashore; & there immediately obtaining his request. The words therefore, as I conceive, should thus be translated,— my dizzenesse: as that also that happened unto thee at Caieta, as unto Chryses, [when he prayed by the seashore.] That the seashore was a place in great request with Antoninus, he himself professeth. B. IU. n. 3.  
18. An unsociable uncharitable Man] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (a frequent word with him:) must in Antoninus be taken as the opposite of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a sociable Man, one who out of a due respect unto, and affectionate care of humane society, and of the public community of men, is in all things that tend to their good, willing to fit and accommodate himself unto others, accounting their welfare his own happiness. He then that is not so, is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: that is in general, an unsociable man. Now the virtue of a sociable man consisting especially partly in meekness and affability, and partly in goodness and bountifulness; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may be more particularly interpreted either a harsh rigid and arrogant man; or one that is hard hearted and uncharitable. Of these two, because Anton. doth always use the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, whether adjectively or substantively with special relation to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the like; by which words he doth also sometimes express himself: the proper signification of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 must in his acception be that which is properly contrary to goodness & bountifulness. But as Charity being otherwise of itself but one particular virtue, is nevertheless in another sense and respect said to comprehend all other virtues, (as Rom. 13. Cor. 13. and elsewhere we are taught at large,) so that a man any ways vicious may be called an uncharitable man: even so is the word unsociable used by Antoninus, which therefore I know not how better to express, then by the word uncharitable. And here I cannot but say somewhat of the marveilous consent of this Heathen man's philosophy, with the holy scriptures. That it doth in many things agree with the sacred word of God, any man that reads him will easily observe. But however, that in many it doth agree I do not so much regard, as that it doth in the chiefest. In those things I mean, which in the scriptures are termed, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the old Testament; 
Hos. 8.12. M. 23.23.  and in the new, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of which kind especially are those two great Commandments, to love God with all our hearts, and our neighbours as ourselves. Which be the very things which in these books are most pressed and stood upon; as might appear by a number of passages, obvious enough to any man that reads him; or almost any part of him. And as our Saviour saith of those, that on them the law and the prophets do hang; so doth Antoninus in some places seem to reduce all his Philosophy to these two very points: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; 
58.  (saith he in a place) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, what will suffice thee, as long as thou livest? what else, but to worship and praise the Gods, and to do good unto men? and again in another book: 
60  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Let the only object of thy joy and content in this world be this, from one charitable action presently to pass unto another, God always remembered in all. And in the same book again 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Fear the Gods, secure them that are in misery [or, intent the good and preservation of men] this life is but short, and the only fruit and comfort of this earthly life is, a holy disposition, and actions that are charitable. In the sixth book, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 There is but one thing in this present life, that is of great consequence, and by us much to be respected; for a man whilst he liveth, living according to justice and truth, kindly and lovingly to converse with false unrighteous men. And again as the Apostle doth particularly reduce all commandments to Charity which therefore he calls the fulfilling of the Law, as elsewhere it is called the end of the Law and the bond of perfectness: so doth Antoninus not only often mention 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.) which I cannot better English then by the word Charity) as that which is all in all; but also for the same reason, by words (as already hath been intimated) which of themselves are proper and peculiar to either this one virtue, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. or to the contrary vice, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. (words which of themselves imply no more than sociableness or unsociableness▪ a charitable, or uncharitable disposition;) he doth include & comprehend all virtues & vices in general. And whereas I have mentioned the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as proper to signify a sociable, or charitable disposition; of itself indeed, and as Antoninus doth use it, it is so: how be it it is not so used by all. For Plato (whom Antoninus otherwise both in words & sentences doth studiously follow:) first taking the word more popularly, for one that beareth offices in the commonwealth and for an ambitious aspiring man; as Anton doth extend that more proper signification of the word, to imply an honest virtuous man in general; so he (upon further consequences, and deductions from the present estate of that common wealth whereof he was a member,) that other more popular word, in general to express a vicious ungodly man. In a matter of such weight and consequence as this, which by writers both divine and humane is made the very matter indeed and purpose of our lives & of all religion: I thought I ought to be the larger, to make the words fully understood; for sure I am they are oftentimes much mistaken.  
19 Blood bones and a skin] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. It is certain that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 was properly some Peplus, or coif used by women tocover their head & hairs: answerable (if not the very same) to that which by the Latins was called reticulus or reticulum. As for the words therefore, we might have thought that Antoninus here had alluded to that part of the body which the Latins usually call omentum, and by the Greecs is sometimes called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, (a fisher's net properly;) as is observed by the Anatomists: and that these following words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, had been a further explication of this reticulus or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the reason of this greece appellation being rendered by Pollux, because that (the omentum scil. or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. and that the Anatomists do further describe it, as consisting of a world of little nerves, veins and arteries. And by this, I further grant, Antoninus might allude (and so include) to the bowels also, covered in some sort by this omentum, as the hairs divided into tresses, and wound up together (not much unlike the folding and twisting of the bowels in the belly:) were covered and kept in by this reticulus. Yet nevertheless why after general and principal parts as blood and bones, he should make such express mention either, of the omentum, or (to extend it as far as may be) of the belly itself, more than of other parts, I know not. And therefore until I be better satisfied, I rather understand this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here of a more general covering, to wit the skin of the body, which though by parts of less moment; yet wholly taken, is not only the most apparent; but also may be reckoned as a principal similary part of the body, and so of one extraordinarily fallen in his flesh, we usually say in English, that he is nothing but skin and bones; Now of it Anatomists say, that it is the opinion of the vulgus that exvenarum, arteriarum, & nervorum extremitatibus dilatatis, & eorum inexplicabili textura generatur. Whether it be so or no, I leave it to them to dispute.   

Notes upon the second Book.  
EVery man's happiness depends from himself] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. The purpose and meaning of all this passage, I think is apparent enough. If I thought it were not, I would refer the Reader to n. XIV. of this very Book, and sundry other places, where he handles the same matter more at large. As for those words 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, certainly somewhat must be supplied, to make the sense full; either 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as we have translated it: or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; which I think more probable, because Antoninus doth much affect (if I may use that word of him and do him no wrong) the simplicity of these repetitions, and that it is ordinary for Scribes (as is well known to all them that ever had to do with MS.) to flipp over some thing, when they come to such repetitions. All this passage is thus translated (whether I speak properly or Noah, when I say translated, let the Reader judge: 
Bas. ed. p. 179. ) by Xylander, Ignominia teipsum affice, anime, contemn teipsum inquam: ut enim honore teipsum afficias, non tibi praeterea tempus suppetet. Vita enim unicuique id praebet: quae tibi propemodum jam exacta est. Non igitur teipsum venerare sed felicitatem tuam aliorum in animis repositam habe. etc.  
2. That intent not, and guide not by reason and discretion] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Xyl. qui vero sui ipsius animi motibus non obsequitur, etc. motus non assequitur, at least, had been far more tolerable. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is in Antoninus, a word of great weight, and doth always import, a due, right and rational apprehension of things: but it cannot always be translated alike, though never but very fitly and properly used by him. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 also and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are proper Platonic words, by the right and full explication whereof much light might be given to many obscure passages both of Antoninus and of others.  
3. As after a vulgar sense such things,] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Xyl. ubi ostendit communioremea inter se conferendi rationem etc. But they are Antoninus' words of himself, who though he were not a professed Stoic, yet was so respective of them, that he would not transgress against their common Tenets and opinions without some short apology for himself. Now all the world knows, that the Stoics held, that omnia peccata were aequalia, and to compare things known and granted equal must needs be very absurd. Therefore doth Antoninus by this short parenthesis here, from the rigour of their Decrees, appeal to more vulgar and popular judgements.  
4. As unable either to prevent, or better to order and dispose] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. a word (or blasphemy rather) which most other Stoics upon this or the like occasion did not stick at. whose error therefore Antoninus doth here modestly and obscurely point at and correct. Epictetus (a man otherwise so divine in his writings, that some Christians I see, but upon weak grounds I think, have undertaken to prove him a Christian:) in Arrianus lib. 1. cap. 1. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. you may read more in him to the same purpose. so Seneca. Mittamus animum ad ea quae aeterna sunt, miremur in sublime volitantes rerum omnium formas, Deumque inter illa versantem & providentem, quemadmodum qua immortalia facere non potuit, quia materia prohibe bat, defendat à morte, ac ratione vitium corporis vincat. Epist. 58. and de Benef. lib. 2. cap. 29. Quicquid nobis negatum est, dari non potuit.  
5. As for life therefore and death, honour and dishonour] These words I would have the Reader, that is not otherwise much versed in the Stoics to take especial notice of, as the true ground of all their strange and unnatural Tenets and Paradoxes. That all temporal worldly blessings are common both to good and bad, they saw. That this, if there were no more in it then so, could not stand with God's justice and goodness (which to deny is to deny that there is a God:) they saw likewise. Upon this ground (a ground that he stands much upon, and presseth as far, as ever any Christian did:) Plato's illation was, That after this life there must needs be a Judgement, when both good and bad should according to their deeds be rewarded. The Stoics, as fully persuaded, as Plato was, that a God there is, and he a just and good God; and yet concerning the future estate of the dead, not so fully satisfied, as he was; to maintain their belief against that common exception could find no better way then to maintain, that all those things that men usually did either seek after or fly from, as either good or bad; were in themselves and in very truth, neither good nor bad, but altogether indifferent So that whether a man was rich or poor, in health or in pain, long lived or soon cut off, in honour or dishonour; that all this was nothing at all to either his happiness or unhappiness, no not whilst he lived; and by consequent, that it was no argument against the goodness and justice of God, that these things were known and grunted to happen unto all promiscuously, whether good or bad, Antoninus doth elsewhere touch upon it again, as towards the end of the fourth, and about the beginning of the ninth book. To him (though I intent brevity, yet for further illustration of a point of that weight and moment, as hath been the occasion of so many large volumes, I can do no less then add Epictetus his words at the least, out of his Enchirid: chapter as I find him by some divided, 38. as by others 29. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. Know that in this specially true piety towards the Gods doth consist, that thou have right opinions concerning them: as, That they are, that with justice and equity they govern the whole world: That thou to this end wert appointed and ordained, to obey them, to submit unto them, and willingly to follow them in all things, as proceeding all from Him, and by Him brought to pass, who is Reason and Understanding itself in the highest degree of excellency. So shalt thou never complain of the Gods, or accuse them as neglected and little cared for by them. But this cannot possibly be, except thou first give over all pursuit after those things which are not in our own power: and that on them only which are in our power and wholly depend on our own wills, thou be fully persuaded, that all that is truly good or evil doth depend. For as for any other things if thou shalt deem any of them good or evil, it must needs follow, 
See Ant. B. VI n. XV. B. IX. n. I.  that as thou dost either miss of those thou dost desire, or fall into those thou wouldst not, thou shalt not only complain of them that are the cause, but hate them also. For this is natural unto every creature, as to shun and abhor all things hurtful, both the things themselves and their causes: So those that are profitable both the things themselves, & their causes to prosecute and highly to respect: etc.  
6. From whose bare conceits and voices honour and credit] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. quorum opiniones & voces gloriam. Quidnam est mors. etc. So Xylander translates it, and marks it for an imperfect place. That a verb, to make the sense full, must be supplied I grant: but because without it the sense of the words may be apparent enough, it may very well be, that whatsoever it is that is to be supplied, was by Antoninus himself omitted as not necessary. Now for the sense I must appeal to other like places as lib. III. n. iv towards the end; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Moreover that honour & praise ought not generally &c. and again in the same book n. X. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. And the greatest fame that can remain, etc. In the fourth book n. III. towards the end, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. For the whole Earth is but as one point, etc. But I will not heap all the passages he hath against the vanity of praise & applause. This in the sixth, n. XV. comes very near: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. what is it then that should be dear unto us, etc. See also the last words of the same book.  
7. And how that part of man is affected when it is said to be diffused] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Xyland. Praterea quomodo afficitur eo tactu pars illa. I translate it as written 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; from the 8. book towards the end, where he treats concerning the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of the mind and understanding. But it may be, it would fit the place better if it were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: whether Antoninus himself did so by an (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) further expound himself; or whether it be but a mere glossema proceeding from any other, I leave to others to judge.  
8. To the tendance of that spirit which is within him] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. I could not easily find a word either Latin or English, whereby to express this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here and elsewhere so often mentioned by Antoninus. That by that word Antoninus doth intent a Deity he himself doth sufficiently clear, not only where he calls it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 but by other passages, where he plainly says of him that he is a God But even for these passages sake (besides other reasons) could not I well translate it God; for so must I have made him say, not only that God was a divine effluence, and a particle of God; but also that God was God; which would have been too gross and manifest a tautology. The word Genius used by Xylander, however it might fit in some respects; and as it is used and interpreted by some ancients, comes nearest of any Latin word to Antoninus his meaning: yet certain it is, as out of Apuleius may appear, that it is against its proper signification, that it is so used, and in regard of its more popular and ordinary use, there could not be any other more improper and contrary. For whereas there is nothing more ordinary among the Latins then these phrases Genio indulgere; genium curare, genium defraudare and the like, in which manner of speeches the word Genius is used, as the best and greatest motive, to Epicuraean mirth and jovialtie; Antoninus doth always press his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the best & greatest motive, and obligation to all manner of temperance, sobriety, chastiry, modesty, holiness and the like. Some will think perchance that I might have retained the word Daemon. But seeing even in Antoninus his time and before, that word by means of the blessed Gospel of Christ, was already become so publicly odious to Latin ears, that Apuleius himself, an arrant Heathen, being to write 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (which was Plutarch's title) though he maintained the thing, that it was not a God but a direct Daemon, of a nature far different and inferior to the Gods, yet avoided the word as odious, and of purpose, (as is well and at large observed by S. Augustin De Civitate Dei. lib. 8. cap. 14.) entitled his book not, de Daemone, but de Deo Socratis: I should have done Antoninus great wrong, if I could not have fitted his excellent matter and purpose, with a more plausible word. Now for the word Spirit which of all others I have made choice of, some will think perchance, that I have made too bold with it, to put it, so sacred a word, in a Heathens mouth so often, and to make it so common a word with him, as it will be found by my Translation. Although I could give a more direct and general answer both for Antoninus and myself, if I would take occasion here to fall upon that subject: yet for brevity's sake, I will content myself to require that of the Reader, which I think no reasonable man can deny, that to express an Heathens meaning, I may be allowed words that have been used by Heathens. I think that of Seneca, no man makes any question, (notwithstanding that ancient report an dopinion of many concerning some Epistles that should pass between him and S. Paul, which S. Hierome and others speak of;) but that he was a Heathen. His words are these Epist. 41. Propè est a te Deus: tecum est: intus est. Ita dico Lucili. Sacer intra nos Spiritus sedet, malorum bonorumque nostrorum observator & custos: hic prout à nobis tractatus est, it a nos ipse tractat. Bonus vir sine Deo nemo est. etc. Thus much of the word. Now concerning the thing itself, how Antoninus came by this philosophy (so much by him in these his books inculcated) of this inward spirit; and so to examine Plato's and other ancients opinion concerning the same: or how near either he or any of them came to the truth, and so to heap together many passages, and to compare them with some like passages in the scripture; is a thing which I myself have taken much pleasure in, and some others would perchance, but that would require far more scope, than this place can afford me, and therefore I let it alone.  
9 With a kind of pity and compassion also] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. The Stoics would not allow 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or misericordia in a wise man. For they maintained that such a one, was in continual joy. Now 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they defined to be Aegritudinem animi ob alienarum miseriarum speciem or, a grief of the mind, for other men's supposed miseries. As therefore the word employed grief and sorrow, they rejected it. But as for the effects of it, as clemency, goodness, and whatsoever it is that true compassion in the highest degree, for the relief and comfort of any distressed, would prompt a man unto, that they thought themselves bound unto as much as any, and proposed it (so they professed) as the main scope of their lives and actions. Seneca is very large upon this subject. The truth is: they would not have men to be men but mere Gods. And whiles they thus went about to elevate this virtue, the crown of all virtues, to a higher pitch of divine purity and simplicity, then humane nature was capable of; and to abstract from it, as it were, all that was humane and fleshly; I fear they made many, who were not so capable of their distinctions and subtleties (such as you shall find in Seneca upon this subject) the less to regard that, which nature otherwise, and to good purpose, had made them more capable of. Certain it is and by them confessed, that for this very thing, they commonly and their profession had a very hard report. This may be the occasion that Antoninus takes occasion to mention so often, and to commend 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which if it be not the same, yet comes next to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Yet such respect did he bear unto the Stoics, that he would not we see here, use that word by them condemned without some qualification; not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 barely; but, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
10. That man can part with no life properly, than that little] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Xyl. Tamen recordandum tibi est, neminem aliam ab ea quam vivit vitam deponere, neque aliam deponere quám eam quam vivit, so shall you find it in both the Editions.  
11. For those things are plain and apparent which] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Spoken unto Monimus, you must understand, by way of Dialogue, and philosophical conference; by persons introducted; and made to speak by Monimus himself. For that Monimus himself and no other must be conceived to be the Author of those writings both sweet and profitable, upon which Antoninus doth here pass his judgement, may be gathered by what Laertius doth relate of him, whose words are, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. He became (saith he) merveillous grave and serious; as in matter of honour and credit altogether careless; so after Truth, very hit and vehement. He did write some merry Pleasant books, mixed with hidden and profitable seriousness. That therefore of Monimus his own writings Antoninus is to be understood, I think is apparent, but because what was the form of these writings, whether they were Dialogues or otherwise, is not certain, and that Laertius saith nothing of it; I could be well content, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 were more generally translated, those things that are spoken of in the writings of Monimus the Cynic; if the Greece would allow it; which I much doubt of, though 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for apud, I know is ordinary.  
And thus have I now for reasons mentioned in the Preface, gone over the two first books, not omitting wittingly any place that required either light or cure. And because I presume the Reader by this to be fully satisfied both concerning my course that I have held in the translating of this Book, & that it needed a new translation: I will spare myself the labour to proceed further in the same kind; some few places, here and there (which would by no means be omitted) excepted. And to this end I will take all that remains together.   

Cursory Notes and Illustrations, UPON The X. Books that remain.  
B. IU. n. XXXIX. Helice, Pompeii, Herculanum] concerning Helice, that may suffice that Xyl. hath in his Notes. Of the sudden ruin of the famous town Pompeii by an earthquake, you may read in Tacitus Ann. XV. Seneca Nat. Quaest. lib. 6. cap. 1. Tertullian in his Apologetis, and elsewhere. Herculanum was very near Pompeii, as by Pliny, Strabo, Pomp. Mela, and others doth appear; by which neighbourhood it may be conceived that when the one did perish, the other could not but suffer. And though otherwise of the ruin of it I find not much in any other ancient besides Antoninus, yet as much as I said Seneca saith in the same place where he speaks of Pompeii; Nam & Herculanensis oppidi pars ruit, dubieque stant etiam quae relicta sunt. Xylander in his Notes upon this places refers us to another place of Anton. B. VIII. n. 29. where he by his Translation makes Antoninus to mention the same Pompeii again. But there the words bearing either Pompeiorum gens, as Xyl. in his first Edition had rendered it; or urbs Pompeii, as it is in his second: though I condemn not this latter, yet I have rather followed that former interpretation, for reasons which upon a better opportunity I shall give more at large.  
Ibid. That which but the other day, was vile snivel,] The whole passage in the Greece, (as it is printed) runs thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. The latter words (for the former he slips quite over) are thus translated by Xyland. Bas. ed. 214. & quod heri fuit piscis, eras erit salsamentum, aut cinis. The Greece words as they are printed, are not without fault; but the fault is neither great, nor hard to be discovered, in steed of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it must be corrected, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: a phrase to this purpose often used by Antoninus; as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and the like; which all signify one thing. Now for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which by Xylander is translated Piscis: whether the Greece Dictionaries deceived him, or he them; I know not: but sure I am, that both he and they are much deceived, and that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here is a mere diminutive of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as it signifieth mucus or mucor; used again in the same sense (and there well translated by Xylander) by Antoninus himself in another passage of these his Books. They that are any thing versed in the writings of Greece Stoics, cannot but know, that it is their ordinary style to speak of all worldly things (the more emphatically to express their vileness and contemptible baseness) by Diminutives: to that end taking usually that liberty to themselves, as to coin new ones, where they find none ready coined to their hands. For examples whereof I need to send you no further then to this our Anton. in very many places of these his books. The ground, as it seems by him, of Xylanders mistake, was the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here; which because in its more ordinary signification signifies salsamentum; and salsamentum is most proper of fishes; he concluded that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 must needs be a fish, and thus, by a translation rather of substances then of words, (which we might more properly call a Metamorphosis) of a man he hath made a fish; and so hath it continued hitherto in all Greece Dictionaries that I have seem. As for the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that Antoninus may not be thought either the first, or only, that everused it in this sense; I will produce but one passage of Lucian, which I think will abundantly do the deed. He therefore in his discourse de Luctu, towards the end treating of the several sorts of burial used by sundry nations, hath these words; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith he) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The Grecian did burn; the Persian, bury; The Indian doth anoint with swine's grease; (the word in Lucian is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which must need signify either swine's dung; or as Erasmus doth render it, adipem suillum: but some learned men there be, who correct it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 medulla:) the Scythian eat; and the Egyptian powder, or imbalm. When Antoninus then saith, (either an imbalmed carcase or ashes;) he doth allude to the custom of his days among the Romans, which was either to bury (the bodies of the richer sort being first imbalmed:) or to burn: though indeed the latter, through the increase of Christians, began soon after Antoninus his time to grow much out of use every where. Now they that burned, used to gather the relics of the dead corpse, consisting of bones and ashes, and to lay them up in urnis, ollis, ossuariis; in pots, urns, crockes, and the like earthen vessels made of purpose; and so to bury them. I would not Note it, (I must confess,) as a thing that I thought worth nothing (for I think there can be nothing more common:) but that I am glad to take this occasion to impart unto the Reader a memorable curiosity in matter of antiquity, which by the learned Antiquaries beyond the Seas, I am sure, would be much esteemed. Some 2. or 3. miles beyond Sitting borne in Kent, West, as you go to London, there is a little village in the way called Newington. It hath not been my luck hitherto in any either later Book or ancient record, to find any thing concerning this village worth the noting. All that I can say of it is, that the inhabitants show a place, to which they say that in former times the water came, as indeed by many circumstances it is very probable: and that Milton (A town before the Conquest of great fame, and of very great antiquity) is not above two miles from it. About a quarter of a mile before you come to Newington, not much above a stones cast from the high way on the right hand as you come from Sittingborne, there is a field, out of which, in a very little compass of ground, have been taken out by digging within these few years Roman pots and Urns, almost of all seyzes and fashions, and in number very many: some thousands, I have been told upon the place; but many hundreds, I am sure I may say, and speak within compass. And though so many have already been found, and carried way, yet doth the field afford them still (as I am told) plentifully enough now and then, according as you prove either skilful or lucky in the digging. The figures of some of them I have here caused to be represented to the Reader.  
The first and greatest, with an Inscription graven and ●●tt in about the neck of it SEVERIANUS, etc. was above a year ago by the pious and ingenuous Vicar of that Parish, M. Henry Dearing, bestowed upon me, which I keep as a great Treasure: as also was the last not long after, with the cover of it over it, so severally represented of purpose, that the form of either might the better appear. The words of the Inscription of that first (as near as they could be imitated) are these:   inscription on urn  depiction of urns 
In the writing of which 〈◊〉 although something may be observed not ordinary, as G●● for Olla; and those kind of A. and L. etc. yet is there nothing so singular, but a learned antiquary well versed in ●ruter's Thesaurus of Inscriptions, will soon find examples of it. As for the sense and meaning of the words, though not so obvious perchance as might be wished, yet must I (because few words will not serve) suspend my opinion till some sitter opportunity. That in the middle, with the Inscription COCCILLIM, was by the means of a worthy fiend, M. Dr. Winston, (that great ornament of his profession) procured unto me from the Right Honourable (for his worth, and love to learning as well as by his place) Richard, Earl of Pordand, Lord High Treasurer of England, etc. whom, with some other rare antiquities it was sent unto, some years ago. I was desirous to compare these that I had (for the Inscriptions sake especially) with some others of the same kind. But I find this difference, that whereas mine were much perished and worn by age. such was the brightness and smoothness of this middle, (of the cover of it I mean, which is of a red colcureth earth) as that it rather resembled pure Coral, then ordinary red earth: and as for the letters of the Inscription, that they were not as mine widely graven in with the hand, but in the same mould, and at the same time when the cover itself was form, very artificially printed, or embossed rather: as by these figures, that are represented, you may in part perceive. Since that, when I passed last by Newington coming from London, among many other fragments of antiquity in M. Dearing gardin I found the piece of just such an other Cover (but that the colour of it is nothing so fresh) with this Inscription in the middle likewise, PRISCIAN. Now as the multitude of these Newington urns (for I do not remember that ever so many in so narrow a compass of ground were found'st is observable; so is the manner of their laying in the ground. They that have been present often at their digging up, have observed, that where one great Urn is found, diverse less vessels are; some within the great, some about it: all covered either with a proper cover of the same earth and making as the pot itself is; or more coursely, but very closely stopped up with other earth. Of all those small vessels of what fashion soever that are found either in or about these urns, I know no other use (to satisfy in some part their curiosity, that wonder at them when they see them) that was ordinary among the Romans, but either to contain some fragrant odoriferous liquor, and durable confection; or that libatie of wine and milk that they used about their dead; or lastly (not to speak here of those burning lamps that have been found in some ancient urns and monuments, which so many have largely written and disputed of) to receive and preserve the tears that were shed by the friends of the deceased for grief of their death. As for the difference of the greater & the lesser urns, Fabricius in his Roma, and Marlianus in his topographical description of the same, are of opinion, that when urns of different bigness are found in the same place, the greater were for the greater and richer, as the masters and Patroni; and the lesser, for the poorer, and inferior, as the servants and clientes.  
In things of this nature, which were I mean, altogether arbitrary, there is no question but different fashions were used in different places; yea and likely in the same place, as every man's particular conceit, or humour served him. And therefore it were hard to determine any thing as certainly, and generally true. But as for these N. urns, this seems to have been the custom there used. One great urn was appointed to contain the bones and ashes of all one, either household or kindred. As often therefore as any of them died, so often had they recourse unto the common urn, which so often was uncovered. To prevent this I find that the fashion hath been in some places, to let in the ashes through some holes made and fitted for that purpose. See Gruter fol. 814. Now besides the great and common urn, it is likely that every particular person that died, had some less urn or vessel, particularly dedicated to his own memory; whereby both the number of the deceased, and the parties themselves might the better be remembered. There might be also another use of these lesser pots, in my judgement very necessary, and that is, that by them the common great Urns, might the better be known and discerned one from another; which being so near, in so small a compass of ground, and not much unlike one another, might otherwise easily be mistaken. And this is the more likely, because of those many hundreds that have been taken up of the lesser sort, scarce have there been found any, of one and the same making, I hear not of any thing that hath hitherto been found, in these Newington urns besides bones, and ashes; and sometimes clear water. And so do I read of urns or Earthen vessels plenis limpidissimâ aquâ, that have been found elsewhere, as that which is mentioned in Gruterus fol. 927. I doubt not but many would be glad (as well as I) to know certainly what this place hath formerly been. But alas! how should we (who are of yesterday, & know nothing) without the help of ancient records, recall the memory of things forgotten so many hundred of years ago? Thus much we may certainly enough conclude: First, from the multitude of these urns, that it was once a common burying place for the Romans. Secondly, from the History of the Romans in this land, that no urn is there found, but is 1200. or 1300 Years old, at the least: so many ages of men have these poor earthen vessels (of so much better clay for durance then human bodies are,) outlasted both the makers of them, and the persons to whose memory they were consecrated. Lastly, from the place, which is upon an ascent (and for a good way beyond, hilly;) not fare from the Sea, and near the high way; we may affirm in all probability, that it was once the feat of a Roman station. If any man can teach me more of it. I shall hearty thank him. Since this was written, I made another journey to the place and spent some time there in digging, but with no success. However, that I might not return home empty, the same M. Dearing gave me a piece of urn, which hath this inscription, FULL LINUS.  
B. VI n. XXXVII. As that vile and ridiculous verse] Chrysippus his own words and Plutarch's censure upon them you may read in Plutarch 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: whereby it appears that Chrysippus his word was not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as we have it here, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Book. VIII. n. 1. Contrary to that perfection of life] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith Epictetus in Arrianus lib. 4.) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 The profession of a Philosopher is, not to sin: and in the same chapter shall you find, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, exploded, as implying a flat contradiction. And now here will I perform, 
P. 13.  what in my preface I did promise for the more full and perfect explication of this word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. That the immortality of the soul, and the reward of the good and bad after this life was never more stoutly maintained by any of all the Heathens, then by Plato, is full well known and acknowledged by all. But it is objected, that this sound and true Tenet, he by many odd fictions of his own, and ridiculous descriptions of the torments of the wicked after this life, hath much corrupted & adulterated. One thing especially, though by more objected against him, 
Ihcodor.  yet by one Greece Father specially is much exaggerated, that in a place where he treatch of the reward of the just and unjust after this life, he should there propose unto his Philosophers as their best reward for their justice and piety, the metompsycosis and transmutation of their souls into bees and ants, and such like; a thing so strange and ridiculous even to conceive, that I cannot but wonder, how they that could believe any such thing of Plato, could in other places find in their hearts so highly to extol, and so absolutely to prefer him before all other Philosophers that ever were. But as for his many relations, and strange descriptions both of the manner and place of torments after this life, I will not take upon me to excuse him. Only this I will say, that he professing in so many places, that what he related in this kind, he neither believed himself, nor required of any that they should believe; and that he was well content, that such and such relations as these, should go for old women's tales, for that in very deed they were no better; and that all that he stood upon, was, That men might certainly be persuaded, that the soul was immortal, and that there was a reward for the just after this life; but as for the rest, whether these very things or somewhat ęquivalent were believed, until they had more certain information was to him indifferent: I do not see, what could well be expected more from an Heathen. And he that shall compare those many descriptions of Hell and Purgatory, which are to be found in books written many hundred years ago, with his; will cerrainly judge, that either Plato was not much amiss, or that many Christians have deserved far more blame than he. And I further think that Plato might in this case with as much reason, to maintain among the vulgar an opinion of the immortality of the soul and of a judgement after this life, make use of old women's tales; as the Angelical Doctor against some Fathers, who affirm the contrary, doth take upon him to maintain; that ignis inferni, ejusdem est speciei cum igne nostro, 
Supplem. 3. part. q. 97. Art. 6.  because Aristotle hath written, that omnis aqua omni aquae est idem specie. And as for that which Plato writes concerning the transformation of worldly carnal men's souls, according to Pythagoras' doctrine; it is true, that Pythagoras and his opinions being in great esteem among the people, Plato not knowing himself what certainly to affirm of the manner of their punishment after their death, was very indifferent, whether this or that were believed, so somewhat were believed; and therefore proposes sometimes one opinion, some times another. But as for the reward of the just and godly, it is an intolerable mistake. For in that very place which is alleged, he plainly says that the true Philosophers after their death 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, are received into the communion and society of the Gods, and are transformed into their very natures. And though it cannot be doubted, who they are that Plato calls Philosophers, they being so often and so amply described by Him; yet to make the case clearer, I will produce his description of them in that very place: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. All true Philosophers abstain from all carnal lusts and concupiscences, etc. They fear not the ruin of their goods and houses, nor poverty as other ordinary men, and such as are addicted to wealth and riches; They fear not the reproach and dishonour of a private idle life, as they that hunt after honour and glory; for they purposely avoid all such things, etc. The ground (and yet no ground at all, had he been but looked upon:) of the mistake, (as appears by them who have objected this unto him) is, that Plato setting down the several transformations of worldly men, according to their several dispositions and employments during their life; saith that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. by which words of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. he was mistaken as though he had meant them, whom he usually calls Philosophers, which in many respects was a very gross mistake. For first, as was said in the preface, it was not the love or exercise of virtue alone, that made a Philosopher, as they meant it; but the love of a virtue 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and so distinguished them from politic worldly men, who (not to speak of the vain glorious:) often exercise justice, & many other virtues, not out of any love to them, but because, as the times are, it may be most advantageous for them, to show themselves in their actions just and righteous. And from the Epicuraeans, who though they acknowledged not divine providence, nor immortality of the soul, and proposed unto themselves pleasure as the only end of their lives; yet maintained (most of them) that they that were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or, lovers of pleasure, must of necessity be, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or, lovers of justice: and that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or, without virtue it was not possible for a man to live in true pleasure. And certain it is that the Epicureans have written as many excellent books to exhort men to virtue, & for the most part, in the sight of the world lived as well as any of any other sect: so that as it was said of the Stoics (for they were most of them notable hypocrites) that they did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, of the Epicuraeans it was said, that they did 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Then it was further to be observed that Plato doth not say 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 absolutely, but, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; nor 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 absolutely, but, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: by which words he cannot be understood to mean others, than those, whom in other places he calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; men that interessed themselves in public affairs and in the government of the commonwealth; of which kind of men he in many places (as things then stood) maintained that they could not possibly be Philosophers: though otherwise (as all know) those commonwealths he pronounced most happy, which were governed by them that were. But that which plainly pats all out of doubt, and makes the mistake in a manner inexcusable, is, that Plato after these words, presently adds 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: and in the words immediately following, sets down those that he calls Philosophers, as men of a quite different sect & profession; which they that object this place unto him, confound with the former.  
I am glad I have had occasion here in this subject to do Plato some right; a man, if ever Heathen was (as Plutarch somewhere of Socrates 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; & I shall (when occasion serves) as gladly do it in many others, wherein he is as wrongfully mistaken. However that which hath now made me the more willing to say so much in his defence, is partly that our Antoninus might the better be understood as often as he useth these words Philosophy and Philosophers; and partly that some passages of his, otherwise obscure, compared with this of Plato, with that which hath been said upon it, might be made plain and easy. See B. III. n. 17. B. VIL. n. 37. B. II. n. 28. etc. Neither will this interpretation of these words Philosopher and Philosophy, only be useful in the reading of this Antoninus and other Heathens; but of ancient Fathers also, by whom they have been used in the same sense; but especially by Saint chrysostom; as where he saith, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that a man is bound to a great deal more Philosophy since Christ, than they were under the Law; that the Philosophy of the Gospel is most perfect: and many such other speeches, which he useth almost in every page.  
B. X. n. X. And appland themselves for their valiant acts against the Sarmate.] Great was the glory of these wars, equalled by good Historians to the greatest conquests of the Romans. Bellum quantum nulla unquam momoria fuit, say some of them. And by the same Historians, is all the honour and glory of these wars, next unto God (whose providence in some particular passages of this expedition is acknowledged both by Heathens and Christians, to have been very extraordinary, and indeed miraculous. (See Note 2. upon B. 1.) ascribed to Antoninus his great valour and wisdom; who himself was present in person all the while for many years together. Yet so little did Antoninus take upon himself of all that he had deserved, that as by the Heathens he is often styled verecundus Imperator, so by Orosius the Spanish Priest, and Historiographer, who lived in Saint Augustine's days, for this very reason he is called, gravissimus & modostissimus Imperator.  
B. X. n. 33. What [then]  it, that may upon this present occasion.] Because the coherence of these words with the former (grounded by me upon B. IU. n. 21.) will, I fear, be obscure unto many, I rather wish for plainness sake, I had begun here a new number, and had expressed the sense thus: [wouldst thou now be happy?] Do that and speak that whatsoever it be, that may now upon this present occasion, according to best reason and discretion either be said or done; (For whatsoever it be, it is in thy power either to do it, or to say it, and therefore seek not any pretences, as though thou wert bindred:) and thou hast thy wish. For until such time that thou be so minded, and affected, as that what pleasure is unto the voluptuous, the same thing be unto thee to do in every thing that presents itself, whatsoever may be done conformably and agreably to the proper constitution of man, thou wilt never cease groaning and complaining. Thou must therefore [if ever thou wilt be happy.] account that pleasure, whatsoever is be that thou mayest do etc. See B. III. n. 13. B. VIII. n. 30. B. IX. n. 5.24. as also B. VI n. 2. the last words; which because they there were forgotten by me, I will here set them down: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: duties— and actions of our lives. [Whensoever then the time of that duty shall come,] then also may it suffice thee [to make thee happy,] that thou do well acquit thyself of that present duty. [or that the present time is spent by thee upon a good action.]  
B. X. n. XXXVI. What then should any man desire, etc. Nevertheless,] Did ever a more meek soul concur, with so valiant and courageous a disposition? But these perchance, were but his intentions; perchance, not so much as intentions, but bare speculative Meditations. If that be true which Historians of best account relate concerning his son Commodus, that he hast ened his Father's death, etc. it will appear, that as he proved a true prophet in regard of others, so in regard of himself he approved himself in his death as true, and profitable a Teacher; yea that his practice in this very particular, rather went beyond his vows and meditations, than came short of them.  
B. XI. n. III. Violenty and passionately set upon opposition as Christians are wont,] Gr. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. It was an error of the Stoi ks (forsaking herein the more sound doctrine of ancienter Philosophers, as Plato, Aristotle, and others:) that in some cases it was not only lawful, but also laudable for a man to make himself away. I do not find that our Antoninus doth any where absolutely and directly oppose this error; but this I find and any man may observe that shall read him, that in many places he doth restrain the case with such limitations and restrictions, as might seem in some manner equivalent to a plain and direct opposition. However, I speak not this to excuse him, but that it shall be free for me for any man to judge him or his opinions, as they shall see occasion. The reason that moves me to take here more particular notice of his opinion in this point, than I do in many others of no less moment, is, partly because Antoninus, though he often toucheth upon it, yet every where he doth it so briefly and obscurely, that his main drift and intention I fear will not so easily be discovered by many: and partly, because I shall at once both remove from Antoninus the crime and imputation of being the author of a most heinous and fowl slander concerning the Christians, and vindicate those primitive godly Christians innocence from the malice or ignorance of Heathenish tongues. Antoninus then, you must know, was of opinion that they were much to blame, who either passionately, or inconsiderately (for to these two we may refer all his other exceptions by him inculcated in diverse places:) did at any time part with their lives; and in steed of these requireth and presseth often these two, rationally; and calmly; or meekly. For the first, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. It is the part of a wise man, etc. B. IX. n. 3. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not comtemptibly, or scornfully; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not angrily, or passionately, saith he elsewhere to the same purpose, and inculcats the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: calmly, & meekly so often, that were it not so good a word as it is, hardly would any man have the patience to read it so often as he repeats it. But much more shall we be induced to bear with Antoninus his many repetitions in this kind, if we further consider, that all that he did aim at by all these words, was merely to take down the pride and haughty spirit of the common Stoics of his days, and before. Many of whom both by their own practice, and by their doctrine and exhortations, did teach a man generally upon all occasions, but in matter of death especially, rather to be desperately stout and resolute; then rationally and really wise: which made Antoninus in almost all his exhortations and instructions so carefully to inculcat humility and a meek spirit. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Give what thou wilt, and take away what thou wilt, etc. B. X. n. 16. They that are any thing acquainted with Senecas' style and genius of writing, will easily make a Comment upon this. But not to go from this very subject of death, that we are now upon, how does he set out his Cato, his great and almost only pattern of wisdom? Tam (saith he) non tantum Caesari, sed sibi iratus, nudas in vulnus manus egit, & genero sum illum contemptoremque omnis potentiae spiritum non emisit, sed ejecit, etc. Epist. 24. Is this to dye like a Philosopher or a wise man, or rather like a desperate wretch? If any man shall answer for S. that he wrote this as an Orator rather than a Philosopher, I grant indeed that it was wit that he affected more than sound wisdom, (in this and many such passages I mean:) but yet it is in the person of a Philosopher that he speaks it; & whether it were a good Orator's part to ascribe such a passionate (that I say not desperate;) & discontented end to such a perfect wise man, as he would have Cato reputed, I leave to others to judge.  
The other main condition that Antoninus doth generally stand upon (as hath been said) is, rationally, or, not inconsiderately. A man may undervalue life as well as overprize it. It was Aristotle's opinion that a man 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the more virtuous he is, and the better furnished with all manner of rare perfections, the more unwilling he must needs be to dye. And certainly according to truth and sound Philosophy, for a man to contemn life, and either in a mere bravado (as many duelists, and contentions persons often do:) to cast it away; or otherwise easily and slightly upon no ground of sound reason and good ratiocination, to part with it, must needs be the highest degree of madness & mere brutishness, that can be conceived. As on the other side, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (as Epictetus upon this occasion speaketh:) when apparent reason doth induce us for some greater good, (as either for a better life, or for the performance of some duty which in reason ought to be dearer unto us then life:) not to regard it, for a man then through either fear of death or love of this world, to linger and to draw back, is great baseness and greater folly. As for that Antoninus doth here allege the Christians as an example of that frenzy that be doth tax and reproove; the ground of it is, the servant zeal of the primitive Christians, whole love to Christ was such, that they not only were content to suffer for him, when they were called to it, but even so longed to dye for him, that they could hardly by the Church Canons and discipline provided in that behalf be restrained from offering themselves to death, & being their own accusers & promoters. In so much that in Africa at a certain time when they flocked by multitudes to the Inquisitors or Judges, the Governor of that Province amazed cried out, O wretched creatures, if you must needs dye, have you no halters or praecipices at home? as is recorded by Tertull. ad Scap. last chapter. And though this course was by the better learned and more sober praelats inhibited and restrained, yet such was commonly their constancy and their readiness to death whensoever they were apprehended and condemned by their persecuters, Yea their joy and exultation such, (Deo gratias, or, God be praised, was their common and solemn word, when their sentence was read;) that that alone was sufficient to a●●●e their enemies, and to make them thi●●● very strangely of them. Neither indeed were the Christians better known unto the Heathens by any other property than this, that they were a kind of people, that did not regard their lives. Before Antoninus, Arrianus had already mentioned them upon the same occasion. For lib. 4. c. 7. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 treating of an undaunted disposition, not capable of any fear or terror, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. To him, (saith he) that stands so affected, what Tyrant, what officers, what swords can be dreadful? Or shall it be so that some through mere madness; others by use and custom, as the Galilaeans, can be brought to that pass, that they shall fear nothing; and shall not reason and sound ratiocination, etc. I know these words are somewhat otherwise interpreted by others, who refer both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to Christians; but if the whole passage be well considered, it will appear otherwise, especially if it be compared with Senecas last words of his Ep. 36. which are these, Denique finem faciam si hoc unum adjecer●, nec infants, nec pueros, nec ment lapsos timere mortem; & esse turpissimum, si came securitatem nobis ratio non praestat, ad quam stultitia perducit. Which words of Seneca I produce here the more willingly, because they may also serve to give light to another place of Antoninus lib. v. n. 1●. if any shall take the pains to compare them. As for that Arrianus calls the Christians Galilaeans, he doth but as many others did; as Lucian by name (if he be the author of that Dialogue concerning S. Paul, which goeth under his Name:) and Julian the Apostate, as all men know. This readiness then and alacrity of these godly Christians to seal their profession with their blood, so known and proved every where, was nevertheless so much mistaken and misinterpreted, as that upon a supposition that it had no ground in reason (as Anton you see, doth here allege:) it was commonly termed by the Heathens, pervicacy and obstinatnes. Obstinatio indeed was the very word. Illa ipsa Obstinatio quam exprobratis, saith Tertull. towards the end of his Apologeticus. and ad Nationes lib. 1. c. 18. Reliquum Obstinationis in illo capitulo collocatis, quod neque gladios, neque cruces, neque bestias vestras; non ig●em, non tormenta ob duritatem ac contemptum mortis animo recusemus, etc. And before him Pliny in his Epistle de Christianis written to Traianus the Emperor, Neque enim dubitabam qualecunque esset quod faterentur, pervicaciam certe & inflexibilem obstinationem debere puniri. Seneca also, though not of the Christians particularly he, yet in the same sense doth use the word obstinatio, in his 76. Epist. by which passages it doth appear how happily Xylander, professing what he doth in his Notes, did hit upon this word in his Translation, than which he could never have found a more fit & proper, had he sought never so long. But some Interpreters of Tertull. it seems did not well understand it in his de Spectac. first chapter, where he saith, Sunt qui existiment Christianum, expeditum morti genus ad hanc Obstinationem abdicatione voluptatum erudiri, etc. who note that Tertull. doth there use Obstinatio in a good sense for constantia; whereas he useth it in no other sense then the Heathens did, that objected it unto them; and it is as from them that he speaks it, as if he said, ad hanc quam nobis objicitis, or, exprobratis (as elsewhere) obstinationem, etc. The word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here used by Anton. will I think hardly be found in any other Greece author in this sense, a word nevertheless (as all his are) as elegant and proper as may be: importing as much in things civil, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 doth in things natural. That which S. Basill doth elegantly call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is much to the same purpose. Antoninus doth use the word again (but in the Verb there, as others use it also: in the same sense, B. VIII. n 46. speaking of the liberty of the will of man, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (saith he) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. Remember that thy mind, etc.  
FINIS.