Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2010 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/harvardclassics002elio 
 
The Emperor Marcus Aurelius 
 
THE HARVARD CLASSICS 
 
 EDITED BY CHARLES W ELIOT LL D 
 
 r 
 
 THE APOLOGY, VHMDO AND 
 CKITO OF PLATO 
 
 TRANSLATED BY BENJAMIN JOWETT 
 
 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS 
 OF EPICTETUS 
 
 TRANSLATED BY HASTINGS CROSSLEY 
 
 THE MEDITATIONS OF 
 MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 TRANSLATED BY GEORGE LONG 
 WITH INTRODUCTIONS AND NOTES 
 
 VOLUME 2 
 
 P F COLLIER & SON COMPANY 
 NEW YORK 
 

 Copyright, 1909 
 By p. F. Coloer & Son 
 
 manufactured in u. s. a. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 Socrates, the son of an Athenian sculptor, was horn in 469 
 B. C. He was trained in his father's art, but gave it up early to 
 devote his time to the search for truth and virtue. He took his 
 part as a citizen both in war and in peace, and bore the hardships 
 of poverty and u shrewish wife with calm indifference. He did 
 not give formal instruction after the fashion of other philoso- 
 phers of his time, but went about engaging people in conversa- 
 tion, seeking, chiefly by questions, to induce his contemporaries, 
 and especially the young men, to think clearly and to act reason- 
 ably. He made profession of no knowledge except of His ozun 
 ignorance, and the famous "Socratic irony" was shown in his at- 
 titude of apparent willingness to learn from anyone who professed 
 to know. The inevitable result of such conversations, however, 
 was the reduction of the would-be instructor to a state either of ■ 
 irritation at the unmasking of his pretensions, or of humility 
 and eagerness to be instructed by his questioner. It was natural 
 that such a habit should create enemies, and Socrates was finally 
 accused of introducing new gods and of corrupting the youth. 
 His defense, as will be seen from the "Apology," was conducted 
 with his customary firm adherence to his convictions, and with 
 entire fearlessness of consequences. He could, in all probability, 
 have easily escaped the death sentence had he been willing to 
 take a conciliatory tone, but he died (B. C. 399) a martyr to his 
 unswerving devotion to truth. Socrates wrote nothing, and we 
 learn what we know of his teachings chiefly from his disciples, 
 Xenophon and Plato. 
 
 Plato was also an Athenian, horn in 428 B. C. of a distinguished 
 family. He became a disciple of Socrates at the age of twenty, 
 and after the death of his master he traveled in Egypt, Sicily, 
 and elsewhere, returning to Athens about 388. Here he estab- 
 lished his school of philosophy in a garden near a gymnasium, 
 called the Academy, and here he spent the last forty years of his 
 life, numbering among his pupils his great rival in philosophical 
 renown, Aristotle. Unlike Socrates, Plato took no part in the 
 civic life of Athens, but he was much interested in political phi- 
 losophy, and is said to have been consulted by statesmen both at 
 home and abroad. 
 
 Hc — ^Vol. % 
 
2 INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 All the zvorks of Plato have been preserved, and they include^ 
 besides those here printed, the "Republic*' *' Symposium,'" "Phae- 
 drus^^ '^'Protagoras," ^'Theaetetus," "Gorgi'as,^* and many others. 
 They take the form of dialogues, in which Plato himself appears, 
 if at all, only as a listener, and in which the chief speaker is 
 Socrates. As Plato developed the philosophy of Socrates, es- 
 pecially on speculative lines, far beyond the point reached by 
 Socrates himself, it is impossible to judge with any exactness 
 precisely how much of the teaching is the master^s, how much 
 the pupil's. 
 
 The philosophy of these dialogues has remained for over two 
 thousand years one of the great intellectual influences of the civ- 
 ilised world; and they are as admirable from the point of view 
 of literature as of philosophy. The style is not only beautiful in 
 itself, but is adapted with great dramatic skill to the large variety 
 of speakers; and the suggestion of situation and the drawing of 
 character are the work of a great artist. The three dialogues 
 here given are at once favorable examples of the literary skill of 
 Plato and intim.ate pictures of the personality of his master. 
 
 Planfied and Destined 
 at The Collier Press 
 £y Williayn Patien 
 
'OW you have felt, O men of Athens, at hearing the 
 speeches of my accusers, I cannot tell; but I 
 know that their persuasive v/ords almost made 
 me forget who I was, such was the effect of them; and yet 
 they have hardly spoken a word of truth. But many as 
 their falsehoods were, there was one of them which quite 
 amiazed me: I miean when they told you to be upon your 
 guard, and not to let yourself be deceived by the force of my 
 eloquence. They ought to have been ashamed of saying 
 this, because they were sure to be detected as soon as I opened 
 my lips and displayed my deficiency; they certainly did ap- 
 pear to be most shameless in saying this, unless by the force 
 of eloquence they mean the force of truth: for then I do 
 indeed admit that I am eloquent. But in how different a 
 way from theirs! Well, as I was saying, they have hardly 
 uttered a word, or not more than a word, of truth ; but you 
 shall hear from m^e the whole truth: not, however, delivered 
 after their m.anner, in a set oration duly ornamented >. with 
 words and phrases. No, indeed! but I shall use the words 
 and arguments which occur to me at the moment; for T 
 am certain that this is right, and that at my time of life I 
 ought not to be appearing before you, O men of Athens, in 
 the character of a juvenile orator: let no one expect this 
 of me. And I must beg of you to grant me one favor, 
 which is this — if you hear me using the same words in my 
 defence which I have been in the habit of using, and which 
 most of you may have heard in the agora, and at the tables of 
 the money-changers, or anywhere else, I would ask you not 
 to be surprised at this, and not to interrupt me. For I am 
 more than seventy years of age, and this is the first time 
 
 3 
 
4 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 that I have ever appeared in a court of law, and I am quite 
 a stranger to the ways of the place; and therefore I would 
 have you regard me as if I were really a stranger, whom 
 you would excuse if he spoke in his native tongue, and 
 after the fashion of his country : that I think is not an unfair 
 request. Never mind the manner, which may or may not 
 be good; but think only of the justice of my cause, and 
 give heed to that: let the judge decide justly and the speaker 
 speak truly. 
 
 And first, I have to reply to the older charges and to 
 my first accusers, and then I will go to the later ones. 
 For I have had many accusers, who accused me of old, and 
 their false charges have continued during many years; and 
 I am. more afraid of them than of Anytus and his associates, 
 who are dangerous, too, in their own way. But far more 
 dangerous are these, who began when you were children, 
 and took possession of your minds with their falsehoods, 
 telling of one Socrates, a wise man, who speculated about 
 the heaven above, and searched into the earth beneath, and 
 made the worse appear the better cause. These are the 
 accusers whom I dread; for they are the circulators of this 
 rumor, and their hearers are too apt to fancy that specu- 
 lators of this sort do not believe in the gods. And they are 
 many, and their charges against me are of ancient date, 
 and they made them in days when you were impressible— 
 in childhood, or perhaps in youth — and the cause when heard 
 went by default, for there was none to answer. And, hard- 
 est of all, their names I do not know and cannot tell ; unless 
 in the chance of a comic poet. But the main body of 
 these slanderers who from envy and malice have wrought 
 upon you — and there are some of them who are convinced 
 themselves, and impart their convictions to others — all these, 
 I say, are most difficult to deal with ; for I cannot have them 
 Up here, and examine them, and therefore I must simply 
 fight with shadows in my own defence, and examine when 
 there is no one who answers. I will ask you then to assume 
 with me^ as I was saying, that my opponents are of two kinds 
 — one recent, the other ancient; and I hope that you will see 
 the propriety of my answering the latter first, for these accu- 
 sations you heard long before the others, and much oftener. 
 
APOLOGY 5 
 
 Well, then, I will make my defence, and I will endeavor 
 in the short time which is allowed to do away with this evil 
 opinion of me which you have held for such a long time; 
 and I hope I may succeed, if this be well for you and me, 
 and that my words may find favor with you. But I know 
 that to accomplish this is not easy — I quite see the nature of 
 the task. Let the event be as God wills: in obedience to 
 the law I make my defence. 
 
 I will begin at the beginning, and ask what the accusation 
 is which has given rise to this slander of me, and v/hich has 
 encouraged Meletus to proceed against me. What do the 
 slanderers say? They shall be my prosecutors, and I will 
 sum up their words in an affidavit : " Socrates is an evil- 
 doer, and a curious person, who searches into things under 
 the earth and in heaven, and he makes the worse appear the 
 better cause; and he teaches the aforesaid doctrines to 
 others." That is the nature of the accusation, and that is 
 what you have seen yourselves in the comedy of Aristoph- 
 anes; who has introduced a man whom he calls Socrates, 
 going about and saying that he can walk in the air, and tallc- 
 ing a deal of nonsense concerning matters of which I do not 
 pretend to know either much or little — not that I mean to 
 say anything disparaging of anyone who is a student of 
 natural philosophy. I should be very sorry if Meletus could 
 lay that to my charge. But the simple truth is, O Atheni- 
 ans, that I have nothing to do with these studies. Very 
 many of those here present are witnesses to the truth of 
 this, and to them I appeal. Speak then, you who have heard 
 me, and tell your neighbors whether any of you have ever 
 known me hold forth in few words or in many upon mat- 
 ters of this sort. . . . You hear their answer. And 
 from what they say of this you will be able to judge of the 
 truth of the rest. 
 
 As little foundation is there for the report that I am a 
 teacher, and take m.oney ; that is no more true than the other. 
 Although, if a man is able to teach, I honor him for being 
 paid. There is Gorgias of Leontlum, and Prodicus of Ceos, 
 and Hippias of Elis, who go the round of the cities, and are 
 able to persuade the young men to leave their own citizens, 
 by whom they might be taught for nothing, and come to them. 
 
6 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 whom they not only pay, but are thankful if they may be al- 
 lowed to pay them. There is actually a Parian philosopher 
 residing in Athens, of whom I have heard ; and I came to hear 
 of him in this way: I met a man who has spent a world of 
 money on the Sophists, Callias the son of Hipponicus, and 
 knowing that he had sons, I asked him : " Callias," I said, 
 " if your two sons were foals or calves, there would be no 
 difficulty in finding someone to put over them; we should 
 hire a trainer of horses or a farmer probably who would 
 improve and perfect them in their own proper virtue and ex- 
 cellence ; but as they are human beings, whom are you think- 
 ing of placing over them ? Is there anyone who understands 
 human and political virtue? You must have thought about 
 this as you have sons ; is there anyone ? " " There is," he 
 said. " Who is he ? " said I, " and of what country ? and 
 what does he charge ? " " Evenus the Parian," he replied ; 
 " he is the man, and his charge is five minse." Happy is 
 [Evenus, I said to myself, if he really has this wisdom, and 
 teaches at such a modest charge. Had I the same, I should 
 have been very proud and conceited ; but the truth is that I 
 have no knowledge of the kind, O Athenians. 
 
 I dare say that someone will ask the question, " Why is 
 this, Socrates, and what is the origin of these accusations of 
 you : for there must have been something strange which you 
 have been doing? All this great fame and talk about you 
 would never have arisen if you had been like other men : tell 
 us, then, why this is, as we should be sorry to judge hastily 
 of you." Nov/ I regard this as a fair challenge, and I will 
 endeavor to explain to you the origin of this name of " wise," 
 and of this evil fame. Please to attend them. And although 
 some of you may think I am joking, I declare that I will 
 tell you the entire truth. Men of Athens, this reputation of 
 mine has come of a certain sort of wisdom which I possess. 
 If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I reply, such wisdom 
 as is attainable by man, for to that extent I am inclined to 
 believe that I am wise; whereas the persons of whom I was 
 speaking have a superhuman wisdom, which I may fail to 
 describe, because I have it not myself ; and he who says that 
 I have, speaks falsely, and is taking away my character. 
 'And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt 
 
APOLOGY 7 
 
 me, eyen if I seem to say something extravagant. For the 
 word which I wiU speak is not mme. I will refer you tp a 
 witness who is worthy of credit, and will tell you about my 
 wisdom— whether I have any, and of what sort— and that 
 witness shall be the god of Delphi. You must have known 
 Chsrephon ; he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend 
 of yours, for he shared in the exile of the people, and re- 
 turned with you. Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very 
 impetuous in all his doings, and he went to Delphi and boldly 
 asked the oracle to tell him whether — as I was saying, I must 
 beg yau not to interrupt — he asked the oracle to tell him 
 whether there was anyone wiser than I .was, and the 
 Pythian prophetess answered that there was no man wiser. 
 Chasrephon is dead himself, but his brotlier, who is in court, 
 will confirm the truth of this story. 
 
 Why do I mention this? Because I am going to explain 
 to you why I have such an evil name. When I heard the 
 answer, I said to myself. What can the god mean ? and wh^at 
 is the interpretation of this riddle? for I know that I have 
 no wisdom, small or great. What can he mean when he 
 says that I am the wisest of men? And yet he is a god and 
 cannot lie; that would be against his nature. After a long 
 consideration, I at last thought of a method of trying the 
 question. I reflected that if I could only find a man wiser 
 than myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in 
 my hand. I should say to him, " Here is a man who is wiser 
 than I am ; but you said that I was the wisest." Accordingly 
 I went to one who had the reputation of wisdom, and ob- 
 served to him — his name I need not mention ; he was a poli- 
 tician whom I selected for examination — and the result was 
 as follows : When I began to talk with him, I could not help 
 thinking that he was not really wise, although he was thought 
 wise by many, and wiser still by himself; and I went and 
 tried to explain to him that he thought himself wise, but was 
 not really wise ; and the consequence was that he hated me, 
 and his enmity was shared by several who were present and 
 heard me. So I left him, saying to myself, as I went away : 
 Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows 
 anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he 
 is — for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows, i 
 
8 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 neither know nor think that I know. In this latter particular, 
 then, I seem to have slightly the advantage of him. Then I 
 went to another, who had still higher philosophical preten- 
 sions, and my conclusion was exactly the same. I made 
 another enemy of him, and of many others besides him. 
 
 After this I went to one man after another, being not un- 
 conscious of the enmity which I provoked, and I lamented 
 and feared this : but necessity was laid upon me — the word 
 of God, I thought, ought to be considered first. And I said 
 to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and find out 
 the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, 
 by the dog I swear ! — for I must tell you the truth — the result 
 of my mission was just this: I found that the men most in 
 repute were all but the most foolish; and that some inferior 
 men were really wiser and better. I will tell you the tale of 
 my wanderings and of the " Herculean " labors, as I may 
 call them, which I endured only to find at last the oracle 
 irrefutable. When I left the politicians, I went to the poets ; 
 tragic, dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to my- 
 self, you will be detected ; now you will find out that you are 
 more ignorant than they are. Accordingly, I took them some 
 of the most elaborate passages in their own writings, and 
 asked what was the meaning of them — thinking that they 
 would teach me something. Will you believe me? I am 
 almost ashamed to speak of this, but still I must say that there 
 is hardly a person present who would not have talked better 
 about their poetry than they did themselves. That showed 
 me in an instant that not by wisdom do poets write poetry, 
 but by a sort of genius and inspiration ; they are like diviners 
 or soothsayers who also say many fine things, but do not un- 
 derstand the meaning of them. And the poets appeared to me 
 to be much in the same case; and I further observed that 
 upon the strength of their poetry they believed themselves to 
 be the wisest of men in other things in which they were not 
 wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be superior to 
 them for the same reason that I was superior to the 
 politicians. 
 
 At last I went to the artisans, for I was conscious that I 
 Icnew nothing at all, as I may say, and I was sure that they 
 knew many fine things ; and in this I was not mistaken, for 
 
APOLOGY 9 
 
 tHey did know many things of which I was ignorant, and in 
 this they certainly were wiser than I was. But I observed 
 that even the good artisans fell into the same error as the 
 poets; because they were good workmen they thought that 
 they also knew all sorts of high matters, and this defect in 
 them overshadowed their wisdom — therefore I asked myself 
 on behalf of the oracle, whether I would like to be as I was, 
 neither having their knowledge nor their ignorance, or like 
 them in both; and I made answer to myself and the oracle 
 that I was better off as I was. 
 
 This investigation has led to my having many enemies of 
 the worst and most dangerous kind, and has given occasion 
 also to many calummies, and I am called wise, for my hearers 
 always imagine that I myself possess the wisdom which I 
 find wanting in others : but the truth is, O men of Athens, 
 that God only is wise; and in this oracle he means to say 
 that the wisdom of men is little or nothing; he is not speaking 
 of Socrates, he is only using my name as an illustration, as 
 if he said, He, O men, is the wisest, who, like Socrates, knows 
 that his wisdom is in truth worth nothing. And so I go my 
 way, obedient to the god, and make inquisition into the wis- 
 dom of anyone, whether citizen or stranger, who appears to 
 be wise; and if he is not wise, then in vindication of the 
 oracle I show him that he is not wise; and this occupation 
 quite absorbs me, and I have no time to give either to any 
 public matter of interest or to any concern of my own, but I 
 am in utter poverty by reason of my devotion to the god. 
 
 There is another thing: — young men of the richer classes, 
 who have not much to do, come about me of their own ac- 
 cord; they like to hear the pretenders examined, and they 
 often imitate me, and exam.ine others themselves; there are 
 plenty of persons, as they soon enough discover, who think 
 that they know something, but really know little or nothing : 
 and then those who are examined by them instead of being 
 angry with themselves are angry with me : This confounded 
 Socrates, they say ; this villainous misleader of youth ! — and 
 then if som.ebody asks them. Why, what evil does he practise 
 or teach? they do not know, and cannot tell; but in order 
 that they may not appear to be at a loss, they repeat the 
 ready-made charges which are used against all philosophers 
 
10 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 about teaching things up in the clouds and under the earth, 
 and having no gods, and making the worse appear the better 
 cause; for they do not Uke to confess that their pretence of 
 knowledge has been detected — which is the truth: and as 
 they are numerous and ambitious and energetic, and are ah 
 in battle array and have persuasive tongues, they have filled 
 your ears with their loud and inveterate calumnies. And 
 this is the reason why my three accusers, Meletus and Anytus 
 and Lycon, have set upon me; Meletus, who has a quarrel 
 with me on behalf of the poets; Anytus, on behalf of the 
 craftsmen; Lycon, on behalf of the rhetoricians: and as 
 I said at the beginning, I cannot expect to get rid of this 
 mass of calumny all in a moment. And this, O men of 
 Athens, is the truth and the whole truth; I have concealed 
 nothing, I have dissembled nothing. And yet I know that 
 this plainness of speech makes them hate me, and what is 
 their hatred but a proof that I am speaking the truth ? — this 
 is the occasion and reason of their slander of me, as you will 
 find out either in this or in any future inquiry. 
 
 I have said enough in my defence against the first class of 
 my accusers; I turn to the second class, who are headed by 
 Meletus, that good and patriotic m^an, as he calls himself. 
 And now I will try to defend myself against them: these 
 new accusers must also have their affidavit read. What do 
 they say? Something of this sort: That Socrates is a doer 
 of evil, and corrupter of the youth, and he does not believe 
 in the gods of the State, and has other new divinities of his 
 own. That is the sort of charge ; and now let us examine the 
 particular counts-. He says that I am a doer of evil, who 
 corrupt the youth ; but I say, O men of Athens, that Meletus 
 is a doer of evil, and the evil is that he makes a joke of a 
 serious matter, and is too ready at bringing other men to 
 trial from a pretended zeal and interest about matters in 
 which he really never had the smallest interest. And the 
 truth of this I will endeavor to prove. 
 
 Com.e hither, Meletus, and let me ask a question of yoti. 
 You think a great deal about the improvement of youth ? 
 
 Yes, I do. 
 
 Tell the judges, then, who Is their improver; for you must 
 know, as you have taken the pains to discover their corrupter. 
 
APOLOGY 11 
 
 and are citing and accusing me before them. Speak, then, 
 and tell the judges who their im.prover is. Observe, Meletus, 
 that you are silent, and have nothing to say. But is not this 
 rather disgraceful, and a very considerable proof of what 
 I was saying, that you have no interest in the matter ? Speak 
 up, friend, and tell us who their improver is. 
 
 The laws. 
 
 But that, my good sir, is not my meaning. I want to know 
 who the person is, who, in the first place, knows the laws. 
 
 The judges, Socrates, who are present in court. 
 
 What do you mean to say, Meletus, that they are able to 
 instruct and improve youth? 
 
 Certainly they are. 
 
 What, all of them, or some only and not others? 
 
 All of them.. 
 
 By the goddess Here, that is good news ! There are plenty 
 of improvers, then. And what do you say of the audience — 
 do they im.prove them? 
 
 Yes, they do. 
 
 And the Senators? 
 
 Yes, the Senators improve them. 
 
 But perhaps the ecclesiasts corrupt them?— or do they too 
 improve them? 
 
 They improve them. 
 
 Then every Athenian improves and elevates them; all 
 with the exception of myself; and I alone am their cor- 
 rupter ? Is that what you affirm ? 
 
 That is what I stoutly affirm. 
 
 I am very unfortunate if that is true. But suppose I ask 
 you a question: Would you say that this also holds true in 
 the case of horses? Does one man do them harm and all 
 the world good ? Is not the exact opposite of this true ? One 
 man is able to do them good, or at least not many ; the trainer 
 of horses, that is to say, does them good, and others who have 
 to do with them rather injure them ? Is not that true, Meletus, 
 of horses, or any other animals? Yes, certainly. Whether 
 you and Anytus say yes or no, that is no matter. Happy 
 indeed would be the condition of youth if they had one cor- 
 rupter only, and all the rest of the v/orld were their im- 
 provers. And you, Meletus, have sufficiently shown that 
 
12 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 you never had a thought about the young: your carelessness 
 is seen in your not caring about matters spoken of in this 
 very indictment. 
 
 And now, Meletus, I must ask you another question: 
 Which is better, to live among bad citizens, or among good 
 ones? Answer, friend, I say; for that is a question which 
 may be easily answered. Do not the good do their neighbors 
 good, and the bad do them evil? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 And is there anyone who would rather be injured than 
 benefited by those who live with him? Answer, my good 
 friend; the law requires you to answer — does anyone like to 
 be injured? 
 
 Certainly not. 
 
 And when you accuse me of corrupting and deteriorating 
 the youth, do you allege that I corrupt them intentionally or 
 unintentionally ? 
 
 Intentionally, I say. 
 
 But you have just admitted that the good do their neigh- 
 bors good, and the evil do them evil. Now is that a truth 
 which your superior wisdom has recognized thus early in life, 
 and am I, at my age, in such darkness and ignorance as not 
 to know that if a man with whom I have to live is corrupted 
 by me, I am very likely to be harmed by him, and yet I cor- 
 rupt him, and intentionally, too ? that is what you are saying, 
 and of that you will never persuade me or any other human 
 being. But either I do not corrupt them, or I corrupt them 
 unintentionally, so that on either view of the case you lie. 
 If my offence is unintentional, the law has no cognizance of 
 unintentional offences : you ought to have taken me privately, 
 and warned and admonished me; for if I had been better 
 advised, I should have left of¥ doing what I only did unin- 
 tentionally — no doubt I should; whereas you hated to con- 
 verse with me or teach me, but you indicted me in this court, 
 which is a place not of instruction, but of punishment. 
 
 I have shown, Athenians, as I was saying, that Meletus has 
 no care at all, great or small, about the matter. But still I 
 should like to know, Meletus, in what I am aflirmed to cor- 
 rupt the young. I suppose you mean, as I infer from your 
 indictment, that I teach them not to acknowledge the gods 
 
APOLOGY 13 
 
 which the State acknowledges, but some other new divinities 
 or spiritual agencies in their stead. These are the lessons 
 which corrupt the youth, as you say. 
 
 Yes, that I say emphatically. 
 
 Then, by the gods, Meletus, of whom we are speaking, tell 
 me and the court, in somewhat plainer terms, what you 
 mean ! for I do not as yet understand whether you affirm that 
 I teach others to acknowledge some gods, and therefore 
 do believe in gods and am not an entire atheist — this you do 
 not lay to my charge; but only that they are not the same 
 gods which the city recognizes — the charge is that they are 
 different gods. Or, do you mean to say that I am an atheist 
 simply, and a teacher of atheism ? 
 
 I mean the latter — that you are a complete atheist. 
 
 That is an extraordinary statement, Meletus. Why do 
 you say that? Do you mean that I do not believe in the 
 god-head of the sun or moon, which is the common creed 
 of all men? 
 
 I assure you, judges, that he does not believe in them; for 
 he says that the sun is stone, and the moon earth. 
 
 Friend Meletus, you think that you are accusing Anaxag- 
 oras; and you have but a bad opinion of the judges, if you 
 fancy them ignorant to such a degree as not to know that 
 those doctrines are found in the books of Anaxagoras the 
 Clazomenian, who is full of them. And these are the doc- 
 trines which the youth are said to learn of Socrates, when 
 there are not unfrequently exhibitions of them at the theatre 
 (price of admission one drachma at the most) ; and they 
 might cheaply purchase them, and laugh at Socrates if he 
 pretends to father such eccentricities. And so, Meletus, you 
 really think that I do not believe in any god ? 
 
 I swear by Zeus that you believe absolutely in none at all. 
 
 You are a liar, Meletus, not believed even by yourself. 
 For I cannot help thinkings O men of Athens, that Meletus 
 is reckless and impudent, and that he has written this indict- 
 ment in a spirit of mere wantonness and youthful bravado. 
 Has he not compounded a riddle, thinking to try me? He 
 said to himself: I shall see v/hether this wise Socrates will 
 discover my ingenious contradiction, or whether I shall be 
 able to deceive him and the rest of them. For he certainly 
 
14 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 does appear to me to contradict himself in the indictment as 
 much as if he said that Socrates is guilty of not believing 
 in the gods, and yet of believing in them — but this surely 
 is a piece of fun. 
 
 I should like you, O men of Athens, to join me in examin- 
 ing Vs^hat I conceive to be his inconsistency; and do you, 
 Melettts, answer. And I must remind you that you are not 
 to interrupt me if I speak in my accustomed manner. 
 
 Did ever man, Meletus, believe in the existence of human 
 things, and not of human beings? ... I wish, men of 
 Athens, that he would answer, and not be always trying to 
 get up an interruption. Did ever any man beli'eve in horse- 
 manship, and not in horses? or in flute-playing and not in 
 flute-players? No, my friend; I will answer to you and to 
 the court, as you refuse to answer for yourself. There is no 
 man who ever did. But now please to answer the next ques- 
 tion : Can a man believe in spiritual and divine agencies, and 
 not in spirits or demigods ? 
 
 He cannot. 
 
 I am glad that I have extracted that answer, by the assist- 
 ance of the court; nevertheless you swear in the indictment 
 that I teach and believe in divine or spiritual agencies (new 
 or old, no matter for that) ; at any rate, I believe in spiritual 
 agencies, as you say and swear in the affidavit; but if I 
 believe in divine beings, I must beHeve in spirits or demi- 
 gods ; is not that true ? Yes, that is true, for I may assume 
 that your silence gives assent to that. Now what are spirits 
 or demigods? are they not either gods ot the sons of gods? 
 Is that true? 
 
 Yes, that is true. 
 
 But this is just the ingenious riddle of which I was speak- 
 ing : the demigods or spirits are gods, and you say first that 
 I don't believe in gods, and then again that I do believe in 
 gods ; that is, if I believe in demigods. For if the demigods 
 are the illegitimate sons of gods, whether by the Nymphs or 
 by any other mothers, as is thought, that, as all men will 
 allow, necessarily implies the existence of th^ir parents* You 
 might as well affirm the existence of mules, and deny that 
 of horses and asses. Such nonsense, Meletus, could only 
 haye jseen intended by yott as a trial of me. You hare gttt 
 
APOLOGY IS 
 
 this into the indictment because you had nothing real of 
 which to accuse me. But no one who has a particle of 
 understanding will ever be convinced by you that the same 
 man can believe in divine and superhuman things, and yet 
 not believe that there are gods and demigods and heroes. 
 
 I have said enough in answer to the charge of Meletus: 
 any elaborate defence is unnecessary; but as I was saying 
 before, I certainly have many enemies, -"and this is what will 
 be my destruction if I am destroyed; of that I am certain; 
 not Meletus, nor yet Anytus, but the envy and detraction of 
 the world, which has been the death of many good men, and 
 ,will probably be the death of many more ; there is no danger 
 of my being the last of them. 
 
 Someone will say : And are you not ashamed, Socrates, of 
 a course of life which is likely to bring you to an untimely 
 end? To him I may fairly answer: There you are mistaken: 
 a man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the 
 chance of living or dying ; he ought only to consider whether 
 in doing anything he is doing right or wrong — acting the 
 part of a good man or of a bad. Whereas, according to your 
 viev/, the heroes who fell at Troy were not good for much, 
 and the son of Thetis above all, who altogether despised dan- 
 ger in comparison with disgrace; and when his goddess 
 mother said to him, in his eagerness to slay Hector, that if 
 he avenged his companion Patroclus^ and slew Hector, he 
 would die himself — " Fate," as she said, " waits upon you 
 next after Hector " ; he, hearing this, utterly despised danger 
 and death, and instead of fearing them, feared rather to live 
 in dishonor, and not to avenge his friend, "Let me die 
 next/' he replies, " and be avenged of my enemy, rather than 
 abide here by the beaked ships, a scorn and a burden of the 
 earth." Had Achilles any thought of death and danger? 
 For wherever a man's place is, whether the place which he 
 has chosen or that in v/hich he has been placed by a com- 
 mander, there he ought to remain in the hour of danger; he 
 should not think of death or of anything, but of disgrace. 
 And this, O men of Athens, is a true saying. 
 
 Strange, indeed, would be my conduct, O men of Athens, 
 if I who, when I was ordered by the generals whom you 
 chose to command me at Potidsea and Amphipolis and Delium, 
 
16 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 remained where they placed me, like any other man, facing 
 death — if, I say, nov/, when, as I conceive and imagine, God 
 orders me to fulfil the philosopher's mission of searching into 
 myself and other men, I were to desert my post through fear 
 of death, or any other fear; that would indeed be strange, 
 and I might justly be arraigned in court for denying the 
 existence of the gods, if I disobeyed the oracle because I was 
 afraid of death: then I should be fancying that I was wise 
 when I was not wise* For this fear of death is indeed the 
 pretence of wisdom, and not real wisdom, being the appear- 
 ance of knowing the unknown; since no one knows whether 
 death, which they in their fear apprehend to be the greatest 
 evil, may not be the greatest good. Is there not here conceit 
 of knowledge, which is a disgraceful sort of ignorance? 
 And this is the point in which, as I think, I am superior to 
 men m general, and in which I might perhaps fancy myself 
 wiser than other men — that whereas I know but little of the 
 world below, I do not suppose that I know : but I do know that 
 injustice and disobedience to a better, v\/"hether God or man, 
 is evil and dishonorable, and I will never fear or avoid a 
 possible good rather than a certain evil. And therefore if 
 you let me go now, and reject the counsels of Anytus, who 
 said that if I were not put to death I ought not to have been 
 prosecuted, and that if I escape now, your sons will all be 
 utterly ruined by listening to my words — if you say to me, 
 Socrates, this time we will not mind Anytus, and will let 
 you off, but upon one condition, that you are not to inquire 
 and speculate in this way any more, and that if you are caught 
 doing this again you shall die — if this was the condition on 
 which you let me go, I should reply : Men of Athens, I honor 
 and love you ; but I shall obey God rather than you, and while 
 I have life and strength I shall never cease from the practice 
 and teaching of philosophy, exhorting anyone whom I meet 
 after my manner, and convincing him, saying: O my friend, 
 why do you who are a citizen of the great and mighty and 
 wise city of Athens, care so much about laying up the 
 greatest amount of money and honor and reputation, and 
 so little about wisdom and truth and the greatest improve- 
 ment of the soul, which you never regard or heed at all? 
 Are you not ashamed of this ? And if the person with whom 
 
APOLOGY 17 
 
 I am arguing says : Yes, but I do care ; I do not depart or let 
 him go at once; I interrogate and examine and cross-exam- 
 ine him, and if I think that he has no virtue, but only says 
 that he has, I reproach him^with undervaluing the greater, 
 and overvaluing the less. And this I should say to eve^ryone 
 whom I meet, young and old, citizen and alien, but especially 
 to the citizens, inasmuch as they are my brethren. For this 
 is the command of God, as I would have you know; and I 
 believe that to this day no greater good has ever happened 
 in the State than my service to the God. For I do nothing 
 but go about persuading you all, old and young alike, not to 
 take thought for your persons and your properties, but first 
 and chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of the 
 soul. I tell you that virtue is not given by money, but that 
 from virtue come money and every other good of man, pub- 
 lic as well as private. This is my teaching, and if this is 
 the doctrine which corrupts the youth, my influence is ruin- 
 ous indeed. But if anyone says that this is not my teaching, 
 he is speaking an untruth. Wherefore, O men of Athens, I 
 say to you, do as Anytus bids or not as Anytus bids, and either 
 acquit me or not; but whatever you do, know that I shall 
 never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many times. 
 
 Men of Athens, do not interrupt, but hear me; there was 
 an agreement between us that you should hear me out. And 
 I think that what I am going to say will do you good: for 
 I have something more to say, at which you may be in- 
 clined to cry out; but I beg that you will not do this* I 
 would have you know that, if you kill such a one as I am, 
 you wall injure yourselves more than you will injure me. 
 Meletus and Anytus will not injure me: they cannot; for it 
 is not in the nature of things that a bad man should injure 
 a better than himself. I do not deny that he may, perhaps, 
 kill him, or drive him into exile, or deprive him of civil 
 rights; and he may imagine, and others may imagine, that 
 he is doing him a great injury: but in that I do not agree 
 with him; for the evil of doing as Anytus is doing—of un- 
 justly taking away another man's life — is greater far. And 
 now, Athenians, I am not going to argue for my own sake, 
 as you may think, but for yours, that you may not sin against 
 the God, or lightly reject his boon by condemning me. Foc 
 
tB DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 if you kill me you will not easily find another like me, who, 
 if I may use such a ludicrous figure of speech, am a sort of 
 gadfly, given to the State by the God; and the State is like 
 a great and noble steed who is tardy in his motions owing to 
 Ills very size, and requires to be stirred into life. I am that 
 gadfly which God has given the State and all day long and 
 in all places am always fastening upon you, arousing and 
 persuading and reproaching you. And as you will not easily 
 find another like me, I would advise you to spare me. I 
 dare say that you may feel irritated at being suddenly awak- 
 ened when you are caught napping; and you may think that 
 if you v/ere to strike me dead, as Anytus advises, which you 
 easily might, then you would sleep on for the remainder of 
 your lives, unless God in his care of you gives you another 
 gadfly. And that I am given to you by God is proved by 
 this: that if I had been like other men, I should not have 
 neglected all my own concerns, or patiently seen the neglect 
 of them during all these years, and have been doing yours, 
 coming to you individually, like a father or elder brother, ex- 
 horting you to regard virtue; this, I say, would not be like 
 human nature. And had I gained anything, or if my exhor- 
 tations had been paid, there would have been some sense in 
 that: but now, as you will perceive, not even the impudence 
 of my accusers dares to say that I have ever exacted or 
 sought pay of anyone; they have no vv^itness of that. And I 
 have a witness of the truth of what I say; my poverty is 
 a sufficient witness. 
 
 Someone may wonder why I go about in private, giving 
 advice and busying myself with the conce*>ns of others, but 
 do not venture to come forward in public and advise the 
 State. I will tell you the reason of this. You have often 
 heard me speak of an oracle or sign which comes to me, and 
 is the divinity which Meletus ridicules in the indictment. 
 This sign I have had ever since I was a child. The sign 
 is a voice which comes to me and always forbids me to do 
 something which I am going to do, but never commands me 
 to do anything, and this is what stands in the way of m.y be- 
 ing a politician. A-ud rightly, as I think. For I am cer- 
 tain, O men of Athens, that 'if I had engaged in politics, 
 I should have perished long ago and done no good 
 
APOLOGY 19 
 
 eitfier to you or to myself. And don't be offended at my 
 telling you the truth: for the truth is that no man who 
 goes to war with you or any other multitude, honestly 
 struggling against the commission of unrighteousness and 
 wrong in the State, will save his life; he who will really 
 fight for the right, if he would live even for a little while, 
 must have a private station and not a public one. 
 
 I can give you as proofs of this, not words only, but deeds, 
 which you value more than words. Let me tell you a passage 
 of my own life, which will prove to you that I should never 
 have yielded to injustice from any fear of death, and that 
 if I had not yielded I should have died at once. I will tell 
 you a story — tasteless, perhaps, and commonplace, but never- 
 theless true. The only office of State which I ever held, O 
 men of Athens, was that of Senator; the tribe Antiochis, 
 which is my tribe, had the presidency at the trial of the 
 generals who had not taken up the bodies of the slain after 
 the battle of Arginuss; and you proposed to try them all 
 together, which was illegal, as you all thought afterwards; 
 but at the time I was the only one of the Prytanes who was 
 opposed to the illegality, and I gave miy vote against you; 
 and when the orators threatened to impeach and arrest me, 
 and have me taken away, and you called and shouted, I 
 made up my mind that I would run the risk, having law 
 and justice with me, rather than take part in your injustice 
 because I feared imprisonment and death. This happened 
 in the days of the democracy. But when the oligarchy of 
 the Thirty was in power, they sent for me and four others 
 into the rotunda, and bade us bring Leon the Salaminian 
 from Salamis, as they v/anted to execute him. This was a 
 specimen of the sort of commands which they were always 
 giving with the view of implicating as many as possible in 
 their crimes; and then I showed, not in words only, but in 
 deed, that, if I may be allowed to use such an expression, I 
 cared not a straw for death, and that my only fear was the 
 fear of doing an unrighteous or unholy thing. For the 
 strong arm of that oppressive power did not frighten me into 
 doing wrong; and v/hen we came out of the rotunda the 
 other four went to Salamis and fetched Leon, but I went 
 qtiietly home. For which I might have lost my life, had 
 
20 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 not the power of the Thirty shortly afterwards come to an 
 end. And to this many will witness. 
 
 Now do you really imagine that I could have survived all 
 these years, if I had led a public life, supposing that like 
 a good man I had always supported the right and had made 
 justice, as I ought, the first thing? No, indeed, men of 
 Athens, neither I nor any other. But I have been always 
 the same in all my actions, public as well as private, and 
 never have I yielded any base compliance to those whO' 
 are slanderously termed my disciples or to any other. For the 
 truth is that I have no regular disciples: but if anyone likes 
 to come and hear me while I am pursuing my mission, 
 whether he be young or old, he may freely come. Nor do 
 I converse with those who pay only, and not with those who 
 do not pay ; but any one, whether he be rich or poor, may ask 
 and answer me and listen to my words; and whether he 
 turns out to be a bad man or a good one; that cannot be 
 justly laid to my charge, as I never taught him anything. 
 And if anyone says that he has ever learned or heard any- 
 thing from me m private which all the world has not heard, 
 I should like you to know that he is speaking an untruth. 
 
 But I shall be asked. Why do people delight in continually 
 conversing with you? I have told you already, Athenians, 
 the whole truth about this: they like to hear the cross ex- 
 amination of the pretenders to wisdom; there is amusement 
 in this. And this is a duty which the God has imposed upon 
 me, as I am assured by oracles, visions, and in every sort of 
 way in which the will of divine power was ever signified to 
 anyone. This is true, O Athenians ; or, if not true, would be 
 soon refuted. For if I am really corrupting the youth, and 
 have corrupted some of them already, those of them who 
 have grown up and have become sensible that I gave them 
 bad advice in the days of their youth should come forward 
 as accusers and take their revenge ; and if they do not like to 
 come themselves, some of their relatives, fathers, brothers, 
 or other kinsmen, should say what evil their families suffered 
 at my hands. Now is their time. Many of them I see in the 
 court. There is Crito, who is of the same age and of the 
 same deme with myself; and there is Critobulus his son, 
 whom I also see. Then again there is Lysanias of Sphettus^ 
 
APOLOGY 21 
 
 wKo IS tfie father of vEschines — he is present ; and also there 
 is Antiphon of Cephisus, who is the father of Epignes; and 
 there are the brothers of several who have associated with 
 me. There is Nicostratus the son of Theosdotides, and the 
 brother of Theodotus (now Theodotus himself is dead, and 
 therefore he, at any rate, will not seek to stop him) ; and 
 there is Paralus the son of Demodocus, who had a brother 
 Theages ; and Adeimantus the son of Ariston, whose brother 
 Plato is present; and ^antodorus, who is the brother of 
 Apollodorus, whom I also see. I might mention a great 
 many others, any of whom Meletus should have produced as 
 witnesses in the course of his speech ; and let him still produce 
 them, if he has forgotten; I will make way for him. And 
 let him say, if he has any testimony of the sort which he can 
 produce. Nay, Athenians, the very opposite is the truth. 
 For all these are ready to witness on behalf of the corrupter, 
 of the destroyer of their kindred, as Meletus and Anytus call 
 me; not the corrupted youth only — there might have been a 
 motive for that — but their uncorrupted elder relatives. Why 
 should they too support me with their testimony? Why, in- 
 deed, except for the sake of truth and justice, and because 
 they know that I am speaking the truth, and that Meletus 
 is lying. 
 
 Well, Athenians, this and the like of this is nearly all the 
 defence which I have to offer. Yet a word more. Perhaps 
 there may be someone vv^ho is offended at me, when he calls 
 to mind how he himself, on a similar or even a less serious 
 occasion, had recourse to prayers and supplications with 
 many tears, and how he produced his children in court, which 
 was a moving spectacle, together with a posse of his relations 
 and friends; whereas I, who am probably in danger of my 
 life, will do none of these things. Perhaps this may come 
 into his mind, and he may be set against me, and vote in 
 anger because he is displeased at this. Now if there be such 
 a person among you, which I am far from affirming, I may 
 fairly reply to him : My friend, I am a man, and like other 
 men, a creature of flesh and blood, and not of wood or stone, 
 as Homer says; and I have a family, yes, and sons, O Athe- 
 nians, three in number, one of whom is growing up, and 
 the two others are still young; and yet I will not bring any 
 
22 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 of them hither in order to petition you for an acquittal. And 
 why not? Not from any self-will or disregard of you. 
 Whether I am or am not afraid of death is another question, 
 of which I will not now speak. But my reason simply is 
 that I feel such conduct to be discreditable to m.yself, and 
 you, and the whole State. One who has reached my years, 
 and who has a name for wisdom, whether deserved or not, 
 ought not to debase himself. At any rate, the world has 
 decided that Socrates is in some way superior to other men. 
 And if those among you who are said to be superior in wisdom 
 and courage, and any other virtue, demean themselves in this 
 way, how shameful is their conduct ! I have seen m.en of 
 reputation, when they have been condemned, behaving in 
 the strangest manner: they seemed to fancy that they were 
 going to suffer something dreadful if they died, and that 
 they could be immortal if you only allowed them to live ; and 
 I think that they were a dishonor to the State, and that 
 any stranger coming in would say of them that the most 
 eminent men of Athens, to whom the Athenians themselves 
 give honor and command, are no better than women. And 
 I say that these things ought not to be done by those of 
 us who are of reputation; and if they are done, you ought 
 not to permit them; you ought rather to show that you are 
 more inclined to condemn, not the man who is quiet, but 
 the m.an who gets up a doleful scene, and makes the city 
 ridiculous. 
 
 But, setting aside the question of dishonor, there seems to 
 be something wrong in petitioning a judge, and thus procur- 
 ing an acquittal instead of informing and convincing him. 
 For his duty is, not to make a present of justice, but to give 
 judgment; and he has sworn that he will judge according to 
 the laws, and not according to his own good pleasure; and 
 neither he nor we should get into the habit of perjuring our- 
 selves — there can be no piety in that. Do not then require 
 me to do what I consider dishonorable and impious and 
 wrong, especially now, when I am being tried for impiety on 
 the indictment of Meletus. For if, O men of Athens, by 
 force of persuasion and entreaty, I could overpower youf 
 oaths, then I should be teaching you to believe that therg 
 are no gods, and convict myself, in my own defence, ol 
 
APOLOGY 23 
 
 tiot believing in them. But that is not the case ; for I do be- 
 lieve that there are gods, and in a far higher sense than that 
 in which any of my accusers believe in them. And to you 
 and to God I commit my cause, to be determined by you as 
 is best for you and me. 
 
 There are many reasons why I am not grieved, O men of 
 Athens, at the vote of condemnation. I expected this, and 
 am only surprised that the votes are so nearly equal; for I 
 had thought that the majority against me would have 
 been far larger; but now, had thirty votes gone over to the 
 other side, I should have been acquitted. And I may say 
 that I have escaped Meletus. And I may say more; for 
 without the assistance of Anytus and Lycon, he would not 
 have had a fifth part of the votes, as the law requires, in 
 which case he would have incurred a fine of a thousand 
 drachmae, as is evident. 
 
 And so he proposes death as the penalty. And what shall 
 I propose on my part, O men of Athens ? Clearly that which 
 is my due. And what is that which I ought to pay or to re- 
 ceive? What shall be done to the man who has never had 
 the wit to be idle during his whole life; but has been care- 
 less of what the many care about — wealth and family inter- 
 ests, and military offices, and speaking in the assembly, and 
 magistracies, and plots, and parties. Reflecting that I v/as 
 really too honest a man to follow in this way and live, I did 
 not go where I could do no good to you or to m^yself; but 
 where I could do the greatest good privately to everyone of 
 you, thither I went, and sought to persuade every man among 
 you that he must look to himself, and seek virtue and wis- 
 dom before he looks to his private interests, and look to the 
 State before he looks to the interests of the State; and that 
 this should be the order which he observes in all his actions. 
 What shall be done to such a one? Doubtless some good 
 thing, O men of Athens, if he has his rev/ard; and the good 
 should be of a kind suitable to him. What would be a re- 
 ward suitable to a poor m.an who is your benefactor, who 
 desires leisure that he may instruct you? There can be no 
 more fitting reward than maintenance in the Prytaneum, O 
 men of Athens, a reward which he deserves far more thaa 
 
24 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 the citizen who has won the prize at Olympia in the horse 
 or chariot race, whether the chariots were drawn by two 
 horses or by many. For I am in want, and he has enough; 
 and he only gives you the appearance of happiness, and I 
 give you the reaHty. And if I am to estimate the penalty 
 justly, I say that maintenance in the Prytaneum is the just 
 return. 
 
 Perhaps you may think that I am braving you in saying 
 this, as in what I said before about the tears and prayers. 
 But that is not the case. I speak rather because I am con- 
 vinced that I never intentionally wronged anyone, although 
 I cannot convince you of that — for we have had a short con- 
 versation only; but if there were a law at Athens, such as 
 there is in other cities, that a capital cause should not be 
 decided in one day, then I believe that I should have con- 
 vinced you; but now the time is too short. I cannot in a 
 moment refute great slanders; and, as I am convinced that 
 I never wronged another, I will assuredly not wrong myself. 
 I will not say of myself that I deserve any evil, or propose 
 any penalty. Why should I? Because I am afraid of the 
 penalty of death which Meletus proposes? When I do not 
 know whether death is a good or an evil, why should I pro- 
 pose a penalty which would certainly be an evil? Shall 
 I say imprisonment? And why should I live in prison, and 
 be the slave of the magistrates of the year — of the Eleven? 
 Or shall the penalty be a fine, and imprisonment until the 
 fine is paid? There is the same objection. I should have 
 to lie in prison, for money I have none, and I cannot pay. 
 Arid if I say exile (and this may possibly be the penalty 
 which you will affix), I must indeed be blinded by the love 
 of life if I were to consider that when you, who are my own 
 citizens, cannot endure my discourses and words, and have 
 found them so grievous and odious that you would fain have 
 done with them, others are likely to endure me. No, indeed, 
 men of Athens, that is not very likely. And what a life should 
 I lead, at my age, wandering from city to city, living in ever- 
 changing exile, and always being driven out ! For I am 
 quite sure that into whatever place I go, as here so also 
 there, the young m.en will come to me; and if I drive them 
 away, their elders will drive me out at their desire; and if 
 
APOLOGY 25 
 
 I let them come, their fathers and friends will drive me out 
 for their sakes. Someone will say : Yes, Socrates, but can- 
 not you hold your tongue, and then you may go into a foreign 
 city, and no one will interfere with you ? Now I have great 
 difficulty in making you understand my answer to this. For 
 if I tell you that this would be a disobedience to a divine 
 command, and therefore that I cannot hold my tongue, you 
 will not believe that I am serious ; and if I say again that the 
 greatest good of man is daily to converse about virtue, and 
 all that concerning which you hear me examining myself and 
 others, and that the life which is unexamined is not worth 
 living — ^that you are still less likely to believe. And yet what 
 I say is true, although a thing of which it is hard for me to 
 persuade you. Moreover, I am not accustomed to think that 
 I deserve any punishment. Had I money I might have pro- 
 posed to give you what I had, and have been none the worse. 
 But you see that I have none, and can only ask you to propor- 
 tion the fine to my means. However, I think that I could 
 afford a mina, and therefore I propose that penalty; Plato, 
 Crito, Critobulus, and Apollodorus, my friends here, bid me 
 say thirty minss, and they will be the sureties. Well then, 
 say thirty minse, let that be the penalty ; for that they will be 
 ample security to you. 
 
 Not much time will be gained, O Athenians, in return for 
 the evil name which you will get from the detractors of the 
 city, who will say that you killed Socrates, a wise man; for 
 they will call me wise even although I am not wise when 
 they want to reproach you. If you had waited a little while, 
 your desire would have been fulfilled in the course of nature, 
 For I am far advanced in years, as you may perceive and 
 not far from death. I am speaking now only to those of you 
 who have condemned me to death. And I have another 
 thing to say to them: You think that I was convicted 
 through deficiency of words — I mean, that if I had thought 
 fit to leave nothing undone, nothing unsaid, I might have 
 gained an acquittal. Not so; the deficiency which led to 
 my conviction was not of words — certainly not. But I had 
 not the boldness or impudence or inclination to address you 
 as you would have liked me to address you, weeping and 
 
26 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 wailing and lamenting, and saying and doing many things 
 which you have been accustomed to heai* from others, and 
 which, as I say, are unworthy of me. But I thought that 
 I ought not to do anything common or mean in the hour of 
 danger: nor do I now repent of the manner of my defence, 
 and I would rather die having spoken after my manner, than 
 speak in your manner and live. For neither in war nor 
 yet at law ought any man to use every way of escaping death. 
 For often in battle there is no doubt that if a man will throw 
 away his arms, and fall on his knees before his pursuers, 
 he may escape death; and in other dangers there are other 
 ways of escaping death, if a man is willing to say and do 
 anything. The difficulty, my friends, is not in avoiding 
 death, but in avoiding unrighteousness; for that runs faster 
 than death. I am old and move slowly, and the slower run- 
 ner has overtaken me, and my accusers are keen and quick, 
 and the faster runner, who is unrighteousness, has overtaken 
 them. And now I depart hence condemned by you to suffer 
 the penalty of death, and they, too, go their ways condemned 
 by the truth to suffer the penalty of villainy and wrong; 
 and I must abide by my award — let them abide by theirs. 
 I suppose that these things may be regarded as fated — and 
 I think that they are well. 
 
 And now, O men who have condemned me, I would fain 
 prophesy to you ; for I am about to die, and that is the hour 
 in which men are gifted with prophetic power. And I 
 prophesy to you who are my murderers, that immediately 
 after my death punishment far heavier than you have in- 
 flicted on me will surely await you. Me you have killed 
 because you wanted to escape the accuser, and not to give 
 an account of your lives. But that will not be as you sup- 
 pose : far otherwise. For I say that there will be more ac- 
 cusers of you than there are now; accusers whom hitherto 
 I have restrained : and as they are younger they will be more 
 severe with you, and you will be more offended at them. 
 For if you think that by killing men you can avoid the accuser 
 censuring your lives, you are mistaken; that is not a way 
 of escape which is either possible or honorable; the easiest 
 and noblest way is not to be crushing others, but to 
 b^ improving yourselves. This is the prophecy which 
 
APOLOGY 27 
 
 I utter before my departure, to the judges who have con- 
 demjied me. 
 
 Friends, who would have acquitted me, I would like alsQ 
 to talk with you about this thing which has happened, while 
 the magistrates are busy, and before I go to the place at 
 which I must die. Stay then awhile, for v^^e may as well 
 talk with one another while there is time. You are my 
 friends, and I should like to show you the meaning of this 
 event which has happened to me. O my judges— for you I 
 may truly call judges — I should like to tell you of a wonder- 
 ful circumstance. Hitherto the familiar oracle within me 
 has constantly been in the habit of opposing me even about 
 trifles, if I was going to make a slip or error about anything ; 
 and now as you see there has come upon me that which may 
 be thought, and is generally believed to be, the last and 
 worst evil. But the oracle made no sign of opposition, either 
 as I was leaving my house and going out in the morning, 
 or when I was going up into this court, or while I was 
 speaking, at anything which I was going to say; and yet I 
 have often been stopped in the middle of a speech; but now 
 in nothing I either said or did touching this matter has the 
 oracle opposed me. What do I take to be the explanation of 
 this? I will tell you. I regard this as a proof that what 
 has happened to me is a good, and that those of us who think 
 that death is an evil are in error. This is a great proof to 
 me of what I am saying, for the customary sign would surely 
 have opposed me had I been going to evil and not to good. 
 
 Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there 
 is great reason to hope that death is a good, for one of two 
 things : either death is a state of nothingness and utter uncon- 
 sciousness, or, as men say, there is a change and migration 
 of the soul from this world to another. Now if you suppose 
 that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of 
 him who is undisturbed even by the sight of dreams, death 
 will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to select 
 the night in which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams, 
 and were to compare with this the other days and nights of 
 his lifcj and then were to tell us how many days and nights 
 be had passed in the course of his life better and more pleas- 
 antly than this one, I think that any man, I will not say a 
 
28 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 private man, but even the great king, will not find many such 
 days or nights, when compared with the others. Now if 
 death is like this, I say that to die, is gain; for eternity is 
 then only a single night. But if death is the journey to an- 
 other place, and there, as men say, all the dead are, what good, 
 O my friends and judges, can be greater than this? If in- 
 deed when the pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is de- 
 livered from the professors of justice in this world, and 
 finds the true judges who are said to give judgm.ent there, 
 Minos and Rhadamanthus and ^acus and Triptolemus, and 
 other sons of God who were righteous in their own life, that 
 pilgrimage will be worth making. What would not a man 
 give if he might converse with Orpheus and Musseus and 
 Hesiod and Homer? Nay, if this be true, let me die again 
 and again. I, too, shall have a wonderful interest in a place 
 where I can converse with Palamedes, and Ajax the son of 
 Telamon, and other heroes of old, who have suffered death 
 through an unjust judgment; and there will be no small 
 pleasure, as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with 
 theirs. Above all, I shall be able to continue my search 
 into true and false knowledge; as in this world, so also in 
 that; I shall find out who is wise, and who pretends to be 
 wise, and is not. What would not a man give, O judges, tO' 
 be able to examine the leader of the great Trojan expedition; 
 or Odysseus or Sisyphus, or numberless others, men and 
 women too ! What infinite delight would there be in con- 
 versing with them and asking them questions ! For in that 
 world they do not put a man to death for this ; certainly not. 
 For besides being happier in that world than in this, they will 
 be immortal, if what is said is true. 
 
 Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and 
 know this of a truth — that no evil can happen to a good man, 
 either in life or after death. He and his are not neglected 
 by the gods; nor has my own approaching end happened 
 by mere chance. But I see clearly that to die and be released 
 was better for me; and therefore the oracle gave no sign. 
 For which reason also, I am not angry with my accusers, or 
 my condemners; they have done me no harm, although 
 neither of them meant to do me any good ; and for this I ma}^ 
 gently blame them. 
 
APOLOGY 29 
 
 Still I have a favor to ask of them. When my sons are 
 grown np, I would ask you, O my friends, to punish them; 
 and I would have you trouble them, as I have troubled you, 
 if they seem to care about riches, or anything, more than 
 about virtue; or if they pretend to be something when they 
 are really nothing — then reprove them, as I have reproved 
 you, for not caring about that for which they ought to care, 
 and thinking that they are something when they are really 
 nothing. And if you do this, I and my sons will have re- 
 ceived justice at your hands. 
 
 The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways — 
 I to die, and you to live. Which is better, God only knows. 
 
CRITO 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE 
 Socrates Crito 
 
 Scene: The Prison of Socrates 
 
 Socrates 
 
 HY have you come at this hour, Crito? it must be 
 quite early. 
 Crito. Yes, certainly. 
 
 Soc. What is the exact time? 
 
 Cr. The dawn is breaking. 
 
 Soc. I wonder the keeper of the prison would let you in. 
 
 Cr. He knows me because I often come, Socrates; more- 
 over, I have done him a kindness. 
 
 Soc. And are you only just come? 
 
 Cr. No, I came some time ago. 
 
 Soc. Then why did you sit and say nothing, instead of 
 awakening me at once? 
 
 Cr. Why, indeed, Socrates, I myself would rather not 
 have all this sleeplessness and sorrow. But I have been 
 wondering at your peaceful slumbers, and that was the 
 reason why I did not awaken you, because I wanted you to 
 be out of pain. I have always thought you happy in the 
 calmness of your temperament; but never did I see the 
 like of the easy, cheerful way in which you bear this 
 calamity. 
 
 Soc. Why, Crito, when a man has reached my age !ie 
 ought not to be repining at the prospect of death. 
 
 Cr. And yet other old men find themselves in similar mis- 
 fortunes, and age does not prevent them from repining. 
 
 Soc, That may be. But you have not told me why you 
 come at this early hour. 
 
 Cr, I come to bring you a message which is sad and pain- 
 
 31 
 
32 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 ful; not^ as I believe, to yourself, but to all of us who are 
 your friends, and saddest of all to me. 
 
 Soc, What ! I suppose that the ship has come from 
 Delos, on the arrival of which I am to die ? 
 
 Cr, No, the ship has not actually arrived, but she will 
 probably be here to-day, as persons who have come from 
 Sunium tell me that they have left her there ; and therefore 
 to-morrow, Socrates, will be the last day of your life. 
 
 Soc. Very well, Crito; if such is the will of God, I am 
 wilHng; but my belief is that there will be a delay of 
 a day. 
 
 Cr. Why do you say this ? 
 
 Soc. I will tell you. I am to die on the <iay after the ar- 
 rival of the ship? 
 
 Cr. Yes; that is what the authorities say. 
 
 Soc. But I do not think that the ship will be here until 
 to-morrow; this I gather from a vision which I had last 
 night, or rather only just now, when you fortunately allowed 
 me to sleep. 
 
 Cr. And what was the nature of the vision? 
 
 Soc. There came to me the likeness of a woman, fair and 
 comely, clothed in white raiment, who called to me and said : 
 
 Socrates- — 
 
 " The third day hence, to Phthia shalt thou go." 
 
 Cr. What a singular dream, Socrates ! 
 
 Soc. There can be no doubt about the meaning, Crito, I 
 think. 
 
 Cr. Yes : the meaning is only too clear. But, O ! my 
 beloved Socrates, let me entreat you once more to take my 
 advice and escape. For if you die I shall not only lose a 
 friend who can never be replaced, but there is another evil : 
 people who do not know you and me will believe that I might 
 have saved you if I had been willing to give money, but that 
 
 1 did not care. Now, can there be a worse disgrace than this 
 — that I should be thought to value money more than the 
 life of a friend ? For the many will not be persuaded that I 
 wanted you to escape, and that you refused. 
 
 Soc. But why, my dear Crito, should we care about the 
 opinion of the many? Good men, and they are the only 
 
 1 HC— Vol. 2 
 
CEITO 33 
 
 persons who are worth considering, will think of these things 
 truly as they happened. 
 
 Cr. But do you see, Socrates, that the opinion of the 
 many must be regarded, as is evident in your own case, be- 
 cause they can do the very greatest evil to anyone who has 
 lost their good opinion? 
 
 Soc. I only wish, Crito, that they could; for then they 
 could also do the greatest good, and that would be well. But 
 the truth is, that they can do neither good nor evil: they 
 cannot make a man wise or make him foolish ; and whatever 
 they do is the result of chance. 
 
 Cr. Well, I will not dispute about that; but please to tell 
 me, Socrates, whether you are not acting out of regard to me 
 and your other friends : are you not afraid that if you escape 
 hence we may get into trouble with the informers for having 
 stolen you away, and lose either the whole or a great part of 
 our property; or that even a worse evil may happen to us? 
 Now, if this is your fear, be at ease; for in order to save 
 you, we ought surely to run this or even a greater risk; be 
 persuaded, then, and do as I say. 
 
 Soc. Yes, Crito, that is one fear which you mention, but 
 by no means the only one. 
 
 Cr. Fear not. There are persons who at no great cost are 
 willing to save you and bring you out of prison ; and as for 
 the informers, you may observe that they are far from being 
 exorbitant in their demands ; a little money will satisfy them. 
 My means, which, as I am sure, are ample, are at your ser- 
 vice, and if you have a scruple about spending all mine, here 
 are strangers v/ho will give you the use of theirs ; and one of 
 them, Simmias the Theban, has brought a sum of money for 
 this very purpose; and Cebes and many others are willing 
 to spend their money too. I say, therefore, do not on that 
 account hesitate about making your escape, and do not say, 
 as you did in the court, that you will have a difficulty in 
 knowing what to do with yourself if you escape. For men 
 will love you in other places to which you may go, and not 
 in Athens only; there are friends of mine in Thessaly, if 
 you like to go to them, who will value and protect you, and 
 no Thessalian will give you any trouble. Nor can I think that 
 jrou are justified, Socrates, in betraying your own life when 
 
 2 HC— Vol. 2 
 
34 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 you might be saved; this is playing into the hands of your 
 enemies and destroyers ; and moreover I should say that you 
 were betraying your children; for you might bring them 
 up and educate them; instead of which you go away and 
 leave them, and they will have to take their chance; and 
 if they do not meet with the usual fate of orphans, there will 
 be small thanks to you. No man should bring children into 
 the world who is unwilling to persevere to the end in their 
 nurture and education. But you are choosing the easier 
 part, as I think, not the better and manlier, which would 
 rather have become one who professes virtue in all his 
 actions, like yourself. And, indeed, I am ashamed not only 
 of you, but of us who are your friends, when I reflect that 
 this entire business of yours will be attributed to our want 
 of courage. The trial need never have come on, or might 
 have been brought to another issue ; and the end of all, which 
 Is the crowning absurdity, will seem to have been permitted 
 by us, through cowardice and baseness, who might have 
 saved you, as you might have saved yourself, if we had been 
 good for anything (for there was no difficulty in escaping) ; 
 and we did not see how disgraceful, Socrates, and also mis- 
 erable all this will be to us as well as to you. Make your 
 mind up then, or rather have your mind already made up, 
 for the time of deliberation is over, and there is only one 
 thing to be done, which must be done, if at all, this very 
 night, and which any delay will render all but imipossible; 
 I beseech you therefore, Socrates, to be persuaded by me, 
 and to do as I say. 
 
 Soc. Dear Crito, your zeal is invaluable, if a right one; 
 but if wrong, the greater the zeal the greater the evil ; and 
 therefore we ought to consider whether these things shall 
 be done or not. For I am and always have been one of those 
 natures who must be guided by reason, whatever the reason 
 may be which upon reflection appears to me to be the best; 
 and now that this fortune has come upon me, I cannot put 
 away the reasons which I have before given: the principles 
 which I have hitherto honored and revered I still honor, and 
 unless we can find other and better principles on the instant, 
 I am certain not to agree with you ; no, not even if the power 
 of the multitude could inflict rnanjr more imprisonments. 
 
CRITO 35 
 
 confiscations, deaths, frightening us like children with hob- 
 goblin terrors. But what will be the fairest way of con- 
 sidering the question? Shall I return to your old argument 
 about the opinions of men, some of which are to be re- 
 garded, and others, as we were saying, are not to be 
 regarded ? Now were we right in maintaining this before I 
 was condemned? And has the argument which was once 
 good now proved to be talk for the sake of talking; in fact 
 an amusement only, and altogether vanity? That is wnat 
 I want to consider with your help, Crito : whether, under my 
 present circumstances, the argument appears to be in any 
 way different or not; and is to be allov/ed by me or disal- 
 lowed. That argument, which, as I believe, is maintained 
 by many who assume to be authorities, was to the effect, as 
 I was saying, that the opinions of some men are to be re- 
 garded, and of other men not to be regarded. Now^ you, 
 Crito, are a disinterested person who are not going to die 
 to-morrow — at least, there is no human probability of this, 
 and you are therefore not liable to be deceived by the 
 circumstances in which you are placed. Tell me, then, 
 whether I am right in saying that some opinions, and the 
 opinions of some men only, are to be valued, and other 
 opinions, and the opinions of other men, are not to be 
 valued. I ask you whether I was right in maintaining 
 this? 
 
 Cr. Certainly. 
 
 Soc. The good are to be regarded, and not the bad? 
 
 Cr. Yes. 
 
 Sgc. And the opinions of the wise are good, and the opin- 
 ions of the unwise are evil ? 
 
 Cr. Certainly. 
 
 Soc. And what was said about another matter? Was 
 the disciple in gymnastics supposed to attend to the praise 
 and blame and opinion of every man, or of one man only — 
 his physician or trainer, whoever that was? 
 
 Cr. Of one man only. 
 
 Soc. And he ought to fear the censure and welcome the 
 praise of that one only, and not of the many? 
 
 Cr. That is clear. 
 
 Soc, And he ought to live and train, and eat and drink 
 
36 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 in the way which seems good to his single master who has 
 understanding, rather than according to the opinion of all 
 other men put together? 
 
 Cr. True. 
 
 Soc. And if he disobeys and disregards the opinion and 
 approval of the one, and regards the opinion of the manjr 
 who have no understanding, will he not suffer evil? 
 
 Cr. Certainly he will. 
 
 Soc. And what will the evil be, whither tending and what 
 affecting, in the disobedient person? 
 
 Cr. Clearly, affecting the body; that is what is destroyed 
 by the evil. 
 
 Soc. Very good; and is not this true, Crito, of other 
 things which we need not separately enumerate? In the 
 matter of just and unjust, fair and foul, good and evil, which 
 are the subjects of our present consultation, ought we to 
 follow the opinion of the many and to fear them; or the 
 opinion of the one man who has understanding, and whom 
 we ought to fear and reverence more than all the rest of the 
 world: and whom deserting we shall destroy and injure that 
 principle in us which may be assumed to be improved by 
 justice and deteriorated by injustice; is there not such a 
 principle ? 
 
 Cr. Certainly there is, Socrates. 
 
 Soc. Take a parallel instance; if, acting under the advice 
 of m.en who have no understanding, we destroy that which 
 is improvable by health and deteriorated by disease — when 
 that has been destroyed, I say, would life be worth having? 
 And that is — the body? 
 
 Cr. Yes. 
 
 Soc. Could we live, having an evil and corrupted body ? 
 
 Cr. Certainly not. 
 
 Soc. And will life be worth having, if that higher part of 
 man be depraved, which is improved by justice and deterio- 
 rated by injustice? Do we suppose that principle, whatever 
 it may be in man, which has to do with justice and injustice, 
 to be inferior to the body? 
 
 Cr. Certainly not. 
 
 Soc. More honored, then? 
 
 Cr. Far more honored. 
 
CRITO 37 
 
 Soc, Then, my friend, we must not regard what the many 
 say of us : but what he, the one man who has understanding 
 of just and unjust, will say, and what the truth will say. And 
 therefore you begin in error when you suggest that we 
 should regard the opinion of the many about just and unjust, 
 good and evil, honorable and dishonorable. Well, someone 
 will say, " But the many can kill us." 
 
 Cr. Yes, Socrates; that will clearly be the answer. 
 
 Soc. That is true; but still I find with surprise that the 
 old argument is, as I conceive, unshaken as ever. And I 
 should like to know whether I may say the same of another 
 proposition — that not life, but a good life, is to be chiefly 
 valued ? 
 
 Cr. Yes, that also remains. 
 
 Soc. And a good life is equivalent to a just and honorable 
 one — that holds also? 
 
 Cr. Yes, that holds. 
 
 Soc. From these premises I proceed to argue the question 
 ^whether I ought or ought not to try to escape without the 
 consent of the Athenians : and if I am clearly right in escap- 
 ing, then I will m.ake the attempt; but if not, I will abstain. 
 The other considerations which you mention, of money and 
 loss of character, and the duty of educating children, are as 
 I hear, only the doctrines of the multitude, who would be as 
 ready to call people to life, if they were able, as they are to 
 put them to death — and with as little reason. But now, since 
 the argument has thus far prevailed, the only question which 
 remains to be considered is, whether we shall do rightly 
 either in escaping or in suffering others to aid in our escape 
 and paying them in money and thanks, or whether we shall 
 not do rightly; and if the latter, then death or any other 
 calamity which may ensue on my remaining here must not 
 be allowed to enter into the calculation. 
 
 Cr. I think that you are right, Socrates; how then shall 
 "we proceed? 
 
 Soc. Let us consider the matter together, and do you 
 either refute me if you can, and I will be convinced ; or else 
 cease, my dear friend, from repeating to me that I ought 
 to escape against the wishes of the Athenians: for I am 
 extremely desirous to be persuaded by you, but not against 
 
38 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 my own better judgment. And now please to consider 
 my first position, and do your best to answer me. 
 
 Cr. I will do my best. 
 
 Soc. Are we to say that we are never intentionally to do 
 wrong, or that in one way we ought and in another way we 
 ought not to do wrong, or is doing wrong always evil and 
 dishonorable, as I was just now saying, and as has been 
 already acknowledged by us ? Are all our former admissions 
 which were made within a few days to be thrown away? 
 And have we, at our age, been earnestly discoursing with 
 one another all our life long only to discover that we are 
 no better than children? Or are we to rest assured, in spite 
 of the opinion of the many, and in spite of consequences 
 whether better or worse, of the truth of what was then said, 
 that injustice is always an evil and dishonor to him who acts 
 unjustly? Shall we affirm that? 
 
 Cr. Yes. 
 
 Soc. Then we must do no wrong? 
 
 Cr. Certainly not. 
 ' Soc. Nor when injured injure in return, as the many 
 imagine ; for we must injure no one at all ? 
 
 Cr. Clearly not. 
 
 Soc. Again, Crito, may we do evil? 
 
 Cr. Surely not, Socrates. 
 
 Soc. And what of doing evil in return for evil, which is 
 the morality of the many — is that just or not? 
 
 Cr. Not just. 
 
 Soc. For doing evil to another is the same as injuring 
 him ? 
 
 Cr. Very true. 
 
 Soc. Then we ought not to retaliate or render evil for 
 evil to anyone, whatever evil w^e may have suffered from 
 him. But I would have you consider, Crito, whether you 
 really mean what you are saying. For this opinion has never 
 been held, and never will be held, by any considerable num- 
 ber of persons; and those who are agreed and those who 
 are not agreed upon this point have no common ground, 
 and can only despise one another, when they see how widely 
 they differ. Tell me, then, whether you agree with and 
 assent to my first principle, that neither injury nor retalia- 
 
CRITO 39 
 
 tion nor v/arding off evil by evil is ever right. And shall 
 that be the premise of our argument ? Or do you decline and 
 dissent from this? For this has been of old and is still my 
 opinion ; but, if you are of another opinion, let me hear what 
 you have to say. If, however, you remain of the same mind 
 as formerly, I will proceed to the next step. 
 
 Cr, You may proceed, for I have not changed my mind. 
 
 Soc. Then I will proceed to the next step, which may be 
 put in the form of a question: Ought a man to do what he 
 admits to be right, or ought he to betray the right? 
 
 Cr, He ought to do what he thinks right. 
 
 Soc. But if this is true, what is the application? In leav- 
 ing the prison against the will of the Athenians, do I wrong 
 any ? or rather do I not wrong those whom I ought least to 
 wrong? Do I not desert the principles v/hich were acknowl- 
 edged by us to be just? What do you say? 
 
 Cr. I cannot tell, Socrates, for I do not know. 
 
 Soc. Then consider the matter in this way: Imagine that 
 I am about to play truant (you may call the proceeding by 
 any name which you like), and the laws and the government 
 come and interrogate me: "Tell us, Socrates," they say; 
 " what are you about ? are you going by an act of yours to 
 overturn us — the laws and the whole State, as far as in 3^ou 
 lies? Do you imagine that a State can subsist and not be 
 overthrown, in which the decisions of law have no power, 
 but are set aside and overthrown by individuals?" What 
 will be our answer, Crito, to these and the like words? 
 Anyone, and especially a clever rhetorician, will have a good 
 deal to urge about the evil of setting aside the law which 
 requires a sentence to be carried out; and we might reply, 
 "Yes; but the State has injured us and given an unjust 
 sentence." Suppose I say that? 
 
 Cr. Very good, Socrates. 
 
 Soc. "And was that our agreement v/ith you?" the law 
 would say; "or were you to abide by the sentence of the 
 State?" And if I were to express astonishment at their 
 saying this, the law would probably add : " Ansv^er, Socrates, 
 instead of opening your eyes : you are in the habit of asking 
 and answering questions. Tell us what complaint you have 
 tio make against us which justifies you in attempting to de- 
 
40 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 s-troy tas and the State ? In the first place did we no? bring 
 you into existence? Your father married your mother by 
 our aid and begat you. Say whether you have any objection 
 to urge against those of us who regulate marriage ? " None, 
 I should reply. " Or against those of us who regulate the 
 system of nurture and education of children in which you 
 were trained? Were not the laws, v/ho have the charge of 
 this, right in commanding your father to train you in music 
 and gymnastic ? " Right, I should reply. '' Well, then, since 
 you were brought into the world and nurtured and educated 
 by us, can you deny in the first place that you are our child 
 and slave, as your fathers were before you? And if this is 
 true you are not on equal terms with us; nor can you think 
 that you have a right to do to us what we are doing to you. 
 Would you have any right to strike or revile or do any other 
 evil to a father or to your master, if you had one, when you 
 have been struck or reviled by him, or received some other 
 evil at his hands? — you would not say this? And because 
 we think right to destroy you, do you think that you have 
 any right to destroy us in return, and your country as far 
 as in you lies ? And will you, O professor of true virtue, say 
 that you are justified in this? Has a philosopher like you 
 failed to discover that our country is more to be valued and 
 higher and holier far than mother or father or any ancestor, 
 and more to be regarded in the eyes of the gods and of men 
 of understanding? also to be soothed, and gently and rev- 
 erently entreated when angry, even more than a father, and 
 if not persuaded, obeyed? And when we are punished by 
 her, whether with imprisonment or stripes, the punishment 
 is to be endured in silence; and if she leads us to wounds 
 or death in battle, thither we follow as is right; neither may 
 anyone yield or retreat or leave his rank, but whether in 
 battle or in a court of law, or In any other place, he must 
 do what his city and his country order him; or he must 
 change their view of what is just: and if he may do no vio- 
 lence to his father or mother, much less may he do violence 
 to his country." What answer shall we make to this, Crito ? 
 Do the lav>^s speak truly, or do they not ? 
 
 Cr. I think that they do. 
 
 Soc. Then the laws will say : " Consider, Socrates, if this 
 
CRITO 41 
 
 is true, that in your present attempt you are going to do us 
 wrong. For, after having brought you into the world, and 
 nurtured and educated you, and given you and every other 
 citizen a share in every good that we had to give, we further 
 proclaim and give the right to every Athenian, that if he 
 does not like us when he has come of age and has seen the 
 ways of the city, and made our acquaintance, he may go 
 where he pleases and take his goods with him; and none of 
 us laws will forbid him or interfere with him. Any of you 
 who does not like us and the city, and who wants to go to 
 a colony or to any other city, may go where he likes, and 
 take his goods with him. But he who has experience of the 
 manner in which we order justice and administer the State, 
 and still remains, has entered into an implied contract that 
 he will do as we command him. And he who disobeys us 
 is, as we maintain, thrice wrong: first, because in disobeying 
 us he is disobeying his parents; secondly, because we are 
 the authors of his education; thirdly, because he has made 
 an agreement with us that he will duly obey our commands ; 
 and he neither obeys them nor convinces us that our com- 
 mands are v/rong; and we do not rudely impose them, but 
 give him the alternative of obeying or convincing us; that 
 is what we offer, and he does neither. These are the sort 
 of accusations to which, as we were saying, you, Socrates, 
 will be exposed if you accomplish your intentions; you, 
 above all other Athenians." Suppose I ask, why is this? 
 they will justly retort upon me that I above all other men 
 have acknowledged the agreement. " There is clear proof," 
 they will say, " Socrates, that we and the city were not dis- 
 pleasing to you. Of all Athenians you have been the most 
 constant resident in the city, which, as you never leave, you 
 may be supposed to love. For you never went out of the 
 city either to see the games, except once when you went to 
 the Isthmus, or to any other place unless when you were on 
 military service; nor did you travel as other men do. Nor 
 had you any curiosity to know other States or their laws: 
 your affections did not go beyond us and our State ; we were 
 your especial favorites, and you acquiesced in our govern- 
 ment of you; and this is the State in which you begat your 
 children, which is a proof of your satisfaction. Moreover^ 
 
42 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 you might, if you had liked, have fixed the penalty at ban- 
 ishment in the course of the trial — the State which refuses 
 to let you go now would have let you go then. But you 
 pretended that you preferred death to exile, and that you 
 were not grieved at death. And now you have forgotten 
 these fine sentiments, and pay no respect to us, the laws, 
 of whom you are the destroyer; and are doing what only a 
 miserable slave would do, running away and turning your 
 back upon the compacts and agreements which you made 
 as a citizen. And first of all answer this very question : Are 
 we right in saying that you agreed to be governed according 
 to us in deed, and not in word only ? Is that true or not ? " 
 How shall we answer that, Crito ? Must we not agree ? 
 
 Cr. There is no help, Socrates. 
 
 Soc. Then will they not say: "You, Socrates, are break- 
 ing the covenants and agreements which you made with us 
 at your leisure, not in any haste or under any compulsion or 
 deception, but having had seventy years to think of them, 
 during which time you were at liberty to leave the city, if we 
 were not to your mind, or if our covenants appeared to you 
 to be unfair. You had your choice, and might have gone 
 either to Lacedasmon or Crete, which you often praise for 
 their good government, or to some other Hellenic or foreign 
 State. Whereas you, above all other Athenians, seemed to 
 be so fond of the State, or, in other words, of us her laws 
 (for who would like a State that has no laws?), that you 
 never stirred out of her: the halt, the blind, the maimed, 
 were not more stationary in her than you were. And now 
 you run away and forsake your agreements. Not so, Soc- 
 rates, if you will take our advice; do not make yourself 
 ridiculous by escaping out of the city. 
 
 "For just consider, if you transgress and err in this sort 
 of way, what good will you do, either to yourself or to your 
 friends? That your friends will be driven into exile and 
 deprived of citizenship, or will lose their property, is toler- 
 ably certain; and you yourself, if you fly to one of the neigh- 
 boring cities, as, for example, Thebes or Megara, both of 
 which are well-governed cities, will come to them as an 
 enemy, Socrates, and their government will be against you, 
 and all patriotic citizens will cast an evil eye upon you as 
 
CRITO 43 
 
 a subverter of the laws, and you will confirm in the minds 
 of the judges the justice of their own condem.nation of you. 
 For he who is a corrupter of the laws is more than likely to 
 be corrupter of the young and foolish portion of mankind. 
 Will you then flee from well-ordered cities and virtuous 
 men? and is existence worth having on these terms? Or 
 will you go to them without shame, and talk to them, Soc- 
 rates ? And what will you say to them ? What you say here 
 about virtue and justice and institutions and laws being the 
 best things among men? Would that be decent of you? 
 Surely not. But if you go away from well-governed States 
 to Crito's friends in Thessaly, where there is great disorder 
 and license, they will be charmed to have the tale of your 
 escape from prison, set off with ludicrous particulars of 
 the manner in which you were wrapped in a goatskin or 
 some other disguise, and metamorphosed as the fashion of 
 runaways is — that is very likely; but will there be no one 
 to remind you that in your old age you violated the most 
 sacred laws from a miserable desire of a little m-ore life? 
 Perhaps not, if you keep them in a good temper ; but if they 
 are out of temper you will hear many degrading things; 
 you will live, but hov/ ? — as the flatterer of all men, and the 
 servant of all men ; and doing what ? — eating and drinking 
 in Thessaly, having gone abroad in order that you may 
 get a dinner. And where will be your fine sentiments about 
 justice and virtue then? Say that 3^ou wish to live for the 
 sake of your children, that you may bring them up and edu- 
 cate them — will you take them into Thessaly and deprive 
 them of Athenian citizenship ? Is that the benefit which you 
 would confer upon them.? Or are you under the impression 
 that they will be better cared for and educated here if you 
 are still alive, although absent from them; for that your 
 friends will take care of them ? Do you fancy that if you are 
 an inhabitant of Thessaly they will take care of them, and if 
 you are an inhabitant of the other world they will not take 
 xare of them ? Nay ; but if they who call themselves friends 
 are trtily friends, they surely will. 
 
 " Listen, then, Socrates, to us v^^ho have brought you up. 
 Think not of life and children first, and of justice afterwards, 
 but of justice first, that you may be justified before the 
 
44 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 princes of the world below. For neither will you nor any 
 that belong to you be happier or holier or juster in this life, 
 or happier in another, if you do as Crito bids. Now you 
 depart in innocence, a sufferer and not a doer of evil; 
 a victim, not of the laws, but of men. But if you go forth, 
 returning evil for evil, and injury for injury, breaking the 
 covenants and agreements which you have made with us, 
 and wronging those whom you ought least to wrong, that 
 is to say, yourself, your friends, your country, and us, we 
 shall be angry with you while you live, and our brethren, 
 the laws in the world below, will receive you as an enemy; 
 for they will know that you have done your best to destroy? 
 us. Listen, then, to us and not to Crito." 
 
 This is the voice which I seem to hear murmuring in my 
 ears, like the sound of the flute in the ears of the mystic; 
 that voice, I say, is humming in my ears, and prevents me 
 from hearing any other. And I know that anything more 
 which you will say will be in vain. Yet speak, if you have 
 anything to say. 
 
 Cr. I have nothing to say, Socrates. 
 
 Soc. Then let me follow the intimations of the will of 
 God 
 
PH^DO 
 
 PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE 
 "Pbjedo, who is the narrator of Apollodorus 
 
 the dialogue to Echecrates Simmias 
 
 of Phlius Cebes 
 
 Socrates Crito 
 
 Attendant of the Prison 
 Scene: The Prison of Socrates 
 Place of the Narration: Phlius 
 
 Echecrates 
 
 WERE you yourself, Phaedo, in the prison with Soc- 
 rates on the day when he drank the poison ? 
 Pkcedo. Yes, Echecrates, I was. 
 
 Ech. I wish that you would tell me about his death. What 
 did he say in his last hours? We were informed that he 
 died by taking poison, but no one knew anything more ; for no 
 Phliasian ever goes to Athens now, and a long time has 
 elapsed since any Athenian found his way to Phlius, and 
 therefore we had no clear account. 
 
 Phced. Did you not hear of the proceedings at the trial? 
 
 Ech. Yes ; some one told us about the trial, and we could 
 not understand why, having been condemned, he was put to 
 death, as appeared, not at the time, but long afterwards. 
 What was the reason of this ? 
 
 PhcBd. An accident, Echecrates. The reason was that the 
 stern of the ship which the Athenians send to Delos happened 
 to have been crowned on the day before he was tried. 
 
 Ech. What is this ship? 
 
 Phcsd. This is the ship in which, as the Athenians say, 
 Theseus went to Crete when he took with him the fourteen 
 youths, and was the saviour of them and of himself. And 
 they were said to have vowed to Apollo at the time, that if 
 they were saved they would make an annual pilgrimage tQ 
 
 45 
 
46 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 0elos. Now this custom still continues, and the' whole period 
 of the voyage to and from Delos, beginning when the priest 
 of Apollo crowns the stern of the ship, is a holy season, dur- 
 ing which the city is not allowed to be polluted by public 
 executions ; and often, when the vessel is detained by adverse 
 winds, there may be a very considerable delay. As I was say- 
 ing, the ship was crowned on the day before the trial, and 
 this was the reason why Socrates lay in prison and was not 
 put to death until long after he was condemned. 
 
 Ech. What was the manner of his death, Ph^do? What 
 was said or done? And which of his friends had he with 
 him? Or were they not allowed by the authorities to be 
 present? And did he die alone? 
 
 Phced. No; there were several of his friends with him. 
 
 Ech. If you have nothing to do, I wish that you would tell 
 me what passed, as exactly as you can. 
 
 Phcud. I have nothing to do, and will try to gratify your 
 wish. For to me, too, there is no greater pleasure than to 
 have Socrates brought to my recollection, whether I speak 
 myself or hear another speak of him.. 
 
 Ech. You will have listeners who are of the same 
 mind with you, and I hope that you will be as exact as 
 you can. 
 
 Phced. I remember the strange feeling which came over me 
 at being with him. For I could hardly believe that I was 
 present at the death of a friend, and therefore I did not pity 
 him, Echecrates; his mien and his language were so noble 
 and fearless in the hour of death that to me he appeared 
 blessed. I thought that in going to the other world he could 
 not be without a divine call, and that he would be happy, if 
 any man ever was, when he arrived there, and therefore I did 
 not pity him as might seem natural at such a time. But 
 neither could I feel the pleasure which I usually felt in phil- 
 osophical discourse (for philosophy was the theme of which 
 we spoke). I was pleased, and I was also pained, because I 
 knew that he was soon to die, and this strange mixture of 
 feeling was shared by us all ; we were laughing and weeping 
 by turns, especially the excitable ApoUodorus — you know the 
 sort of man? 
 
 Ech. Yes. 
 
PH^DO 47 
 
 PlicEd. He was quite overcome ; and I myself, and all of us 
 were greatly moved. 
 
 Ech. Who were present? 
 
 Phcsd. Of native Athenians there v/ere, besides Apollo- 
 dorus, Critobulus and his father Crito,Hermogenes, Epigenes, 
 ^schines, and Antisthenes; likewise Ctesippus of the deme 
 of Pseania, Menexenus, and some others; but Plato, if I am 
 not mistaken, was ill. 
 
 Ech. Were there any strangers? 
 
 Phced. Yes, there were; Sim.mias the Theban, and Cebes, 
 and Phsedondes; Euclid and Terpison, w^ho came from Meg- 
 ara. 
 
 Ech. And was Aristippus there, and Cleombrotus ? 
 
 Phced. No, they were said to be in ^gina. 
 
 Ech. Anyone else? 
 
 Phced. I think that these were about all. 
 
 Ech. And what was the discourse of which you spoke? 
 
 Phced. I will begin at the beginning, and endeavor to re- 
 peat the entire conversation. You must understand that we 
 had been previously in the habit of assembling early in the 
 morning at the court in which the trial was held, and which 
 is not far from the prison. There we remained talking with 
 one another until the opening of the prison doors (for they 
 were not opened very early), and then vv^ent in and generally 
 passed the day with Socrates. On the last morning the meet- 
 ing was earlier than usual ; this was owing to our having heard 
 on the previous evening that the sacred ship had arrived from 
 Delos, and therefore we agreed to meet very early at the ac- 
 customed place. On our going to the prison, the jailer who 
 answered the door, instead of admitting us, came out and bade 
 us wait and he would call us. " For the Eleven," he said, 
 " are now with Socrates ; they are taking off his chains, and 
 giving orders that he is to die to-day." He soon returned 
 and said that we might come in. On entering we found Soc- 
 rates just released from chains, and Xanthippe, whom you 
 know, sitting by him, and holding his child in her arms. 
 When she saw us she uttered a cry and said, as women 
 will : " O Socrates, this is the last time that either you will 
 converse with your friends, or they with you." Socrates 
 turned to Crito and said : " Crito, let some one take her 
 
48 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 home." Some of Crito's people accordingly led her away, 
 crying out and beating herself. And when she was gone, 
 Socrates, sitting up on the couch, began to bend and rub his 
 leg, saying, as he rubbed : " How singular is the thing called 
 pleasure, and how curiously related to pain, which might be 
 thought to be the opposite of it; for they never come to a 
 man together, and yet he who pursues either of them is gen- 
 erally compelled to take the other. They are two, and yet 
 they grow together out of one head or stem; and I cannot 
 help thinking that if ^sop had noticed them, he would have 
 made a fable about God trying to reconcile their strife, and 
 when he could not^ he fastened their heads together ; and this 
 is the reason why when one comes the other follows, as I 
 find in my own case pleasure comes following after the pain 
 in my leg, which was caused by the chain." 
 
 Upon this Cebes said: I am very glad indeed, Socrates, 
 that you mentioned the name of ^sop. For that reminds me 
 of a question which has been asked by others, and was asked 
 of me only the day before yesterday by Evenus the poet, and 
 as he will be sure to ask again, you may as well tell me what 
 I should say to him, if you would like him to have an answer. 
 He wanted to know why you who never before wrote a line 
 of poetry, now that you are in prison are putting ^sop into 
 verse, and also composing that hymn in honor of Apollo. 
 
 Tell him, Cebes, he replied, that I had no idea of rivalling 
 him or his poems; which is the truth, for I knew that I 
 could not do that. But I wanted to see whether I could 
 purge away a scruple which I felt about certain dreams. In 
 the course of my life I have often had intimations in dreams 
 "that I should make music." The same dream came to me 
 sometimes in one form, and sometimes in another, but always 
 saying the same or nearly the same words : Make and cultivate 
 music, saia the dream. And hitherto I had imagined that 
 this was only intended to exhort and encourage me in the 
 study of philosophy, which has always been the pursuit of my 
 life, and is the noblest and best of music. The dream was bid- 
 ding me to do what I was already doing, In the same way that 
 the competitor in a race is bidden by the spectators to run 
 when he is already running. But I was not certain of this, 
 as the dream might have meant music in the popular sense 
 
PH^DO 49 
 
 of the word, and being under sentence of death, and the festi- 
 val giving me a respite, I thought that I should be safer if I 
 satisfied the scruple, and, in obedience to the dream, com- 
 posed a few verses before I departed. And first I made a 
 hymn in honor of the god of the festival, and then consider- 
 ing that a poet, if he is really to be a poet or maker, should 
 not only put words together but make stories, and as I have 
 no invention, I took some fables of ^sop, which I had ready 
 at hand and knew, and turned them into verse. Tell Evenus 
 this, and bid him be of good cheer; say that I would have 
 him come after me if he be a wise man, and not tarry; and 
 that to-day I am likely to be going, for the Athenians say 
 that I must. 
 
 Simmias said : What a message for such a man ! having 
 been a frequent companion of his I should say that, as far 
 as I know him, he will never take your advice unless he is 
 obliged. 
 
 Why, said Socrates. Is not Evenus a philosopher? 
 
 I think that he is, said Simmias. 
 
 Then he, or any man who has the spirit of philosophy, will 
 be willing to die, though he will not take his own life, for 
 that is held not to be right. 
 
 Here he changed his position, and put his legs off the couch 
 on to the ground, and during the rest of the conversation he 
 remained sitting. 
 
 Why do you say, inquired Cebes, that a man ought not to 
 take his own life, but that the philosopher will be ready to 
 follow the dying? 
 
 Socrates replied: And have you, Cebes and Simmias, who 
 are acquainted with Philolaus, never heard him speak of 
 this? 
 
 I never understood him, Socrates. 
 
 My words, too, are only an echo ; but I am very willing to 
 say what I have heard: and indeed, as I am going to another 
 place, I ought to be thinking and talking of the nature of the 
 pilgrimage which I am about to make. What can I do better 
 in the interval between this and the setting of the sun ? 
 
 Then tell me, Socrates, why is suicide held not to be right ? 
 as I have certainly heard Philolaus affirm when he was stay- 
 ing with us at Thebes: and there are others who say the 
 
50 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 same, although none of them has ever made me tinderstatid 
 him. 
 
 But do your best, replied Socrates, and the day may come 
 when you will understand. I suppose that you wonder why, 
 as most things which are evil may be accidentally good, this 
 is to be the only exception (for may not death, too, be better 
 than life in some cases?), and why, when a man is better 
 dead, he is not permitted to be his own benefactor, but must 
 wait for the hand of another. 
 
 By Jupiter ! yes, indeed, said Cebes, laughing, and speak- 
 ing in his native Doric. 
 
 I admit the appearance of inconsistency, replied Socrates, 
 but there may not be any real inconsistency after all in this. 
 There is a doctrine uttered in secret that man is a prisoner 
 who has no right to open the door of his prison and run away ; 
 this is a great mystery which I do not quite understand. Yet 
 I, too, believe that the gods are our guardians, and that we 
 are a possession of theirs. Do you not agree? 
 
 Yes, I agree to that, said Cebes. 
 
 And if one of your ovv'n possessions, an ox or an ass, for ex- 
 ample, took the liberty of putting himself out of the way when 
 you had given no intim.ation of your wish that he should die, 
 would you not be angry with him, and would you not punish 
 him if you could? 
 
 Certainly, replied Cebes. 
 
 Then there may be reason in saying that a man should wait, 
 and not take his own life until God summons him, as he is 
 now summoning me. 
 
 Yes, Socrates, said Cebes, there is surely reason in that. 
 And yet how can you reconcile this seemingly true belief 
 that God is our guardian and we his possessions, with that 
 willingness to die which we were attributing to the philos- 
 opher? That the wisest of men should be willing to leave 
 this service in which they are ruled by the gods who are 
 the best of rulers is not reasonable, for surely no wise man 
 thinks that when set at liberty he can take better care of 
 himself than the gods take of him. A fool may perhaps think 
 tfiis — ^he may argue that he had better run away from his 
 master, not considering that his duty is to remain to the end, 
 and not to run away from the good, and that there is no sense 
 
PHiEDO Si 
 
 in his rtinning away. But the wise man will want to be ever 
 with hira who is better than himself. Now this, Socrates, is 
 the reverse of what was just now said; for upon this vitw 
 the wise man should sorrow and the fool rejoice at passing 
 out of life. 
 
 The earnestness of Cebes seemed to please Socrates. Here, 
 said he, turning to us, is a man who is always inquiring, and 
 is not to be convinced all in a moment, nor by every argument. 
 
 And in this case, added Simmias, his objection does ap- 
 pear to me to have some force. For what can be the mean- 
 ing of a truly wise man wanting to fly away and lightly 
 leave a master who is better than himself? And I rather 
 imagine that Cebes is referring to you; he thinks that you 
 are too ready to leave us, and too ready to leave the gods 
 who, as you acknowledge, are our good rulers. 
 
 Yes, replied Socrates; there is reason in that. And this 
 indictment you think that I ought to answer as if I were 
 in court? 
 
 That is what we should like, said Simmias. 
 
 Then I must try to make a better impression upon you than 
 I did when defending myself before the judges. For I am 
 quite ready to acknowledge, Simmias and Cebes, that I ought 
 to be grieved at death, if I were not persuaded that I am go- 
 ing to other gods who are wise and good (of this I am as 
 certain as I can be of anything of the sort) and to men de- 
 parted (though I am not so certain of this), who are better 
 than those whom I leave behind; and therefore I do not 
 grieve as I might have done, for I have good hope that there 
 is yet something remaining for the dead, and, as has been 
 said of old, some far better thing for the good than for the 
 evil. 
 
 But do you mean to take away your thoughts with you, 
 Socrates? said Simmias. Will you not communicate them to 
 us? — the benefit is one in which we too may hope to share. 
 Moreover, if you succeed in convincing us, that will be an 
 answer to the charge against yourself. 
 
 I will do m.y best, replied Socrates. But you must first 
 let me hear v/hat Crito wants; he was going to say some- 
 thing to me. 
 
 Only this, Socrates, replied Crito: the attendant who is to 
 
52 DIALOGUES OP PLATO 
 
 give you the poison has been telling me that you are not to 
 talk much, and he wants me to let you know this; for that 
 by talking heat is increased, and this interferes with the 
 action of the poison; those who excite themselves are some- 
 times obliged to drink the poison two or three times. 
 
 Then, said Socrates, let him mind his business and be 
 prepared to give the poison two or three times, if necessary; 
 that is all. 
 
 I was almost certain that you would say that, replied Crito ; 
 but I was obliged to satisfy him. 
 
 Never mind him, he said. 
 
 And now I will make answer to you, O my judges, and 
 show that he who has lived as a true philosopher has reason 
 to be of good cheer when he is about to die, and that after 
 death he may hope to receive the greatest good in the other 
 world. And how this may be, Simmias and Cebes, I will 
 endeavor to explain. For I deem that the true disciple of 
 philosophy is likely to be misunderstood by other men; they 
 do not perceive that he is ever pursuing death and dying; 
 and if this is true, why, having had the desire of death all 
 his life long, should he repine at the arrival of that which 
 he has been always pursuing and desiring? 
 
 Simmias laughed and said : Though not in a laughing humor 
 I swear that I cannot help laughing when I think what the 
 wicked world will say when they hear this. They will say 
 that this is very true, and our people at home will agree with 
 them in saying that the life which philosophers desire is 
 truly death, and that they have found them out to be deserv- 
 ing of the death which they desire. 
 
 And they are right, Simmias, in saying this, with the ex- 
 ception of the words " They have found them out " ; for they 
 have not found out what is the nature of this death which the 
 true philosopher desires, or how he deserves or desires death. 
 But let us leave them and have a word with ourselves : Do we 
 believe that there is such a thing as death? 
 
 To be sure, replied Simmias. 
 
 And is this anything but the separation of soul and body? 
 And being dead is the attainment of this separation whgn 
 the soul exists in herself, and is parted from the body and the 
 h<^4y is parted from the soul — that is death? 
 
PHiEDO 53 
 
 Exactly: that and nothing else, he replied. 
 
 And what do you say of another question, my friend, 
 about which I should like to have your opinion, and the an- 
 swer to which will probably throw light on our present 
 inquiry: Do you think that the philosopher ought to care 
 about the pleasures — if they are to be called pleasures — of 
 eating and drinking? 
 
 Certainly not, answered Simmias. 
 
 And what do you say of the pleasures of love — should h@ 
 care about them? 
 
 By no means. 
 
 And will he think much of the other ways of indulging the 
 body — for example, the acquisition of costly raiment, or san- 
 dals, or other adornments of the body? Instead of caring 
 about them, does he not rather despise anything more than 
 nature needs? What do you say? 
 
 I should say the true philosopher would despise them. 
 
 Would you not say that he is entirely concerned with the 
 soul and not with the body? He v/ould like, as far as he 
 can, to be quit of the body and turn to the soul. 
 
 That is true. 
 
 In matters of this sort philosophers, above all other men, 
 may be observed in every sort of way to dissever the soul 
 from the body. 
 
 That is true. 
 
 Whereas, Simmias, the rest of the world are of opinion 
 that a life which has no bodily pleasures and no part in 
 them is not worth having; but that he who thinks nothing 
 of bodily pleasures is almost as though he were dead. 
 
 That is quite true. 
 
 What again shall we say of the actual requirement of 
 knowledge? — is the body, if invited to share in the inquiry, 
 a hinderer or a helper ? I mean to say, have sight and hear- 
 ing any truth in them? Are they not, as the poets are 
 always telling us, inaccurate witnesses ? and yet, if even they 
 are inaccurate and indistinct, what is to be said of the 
 other senses? — for you will allow that they are the best of 
 them? 
 
 Certainly, he replied. 
 
 Then when does the soul attain truth?— for in attempting 
 
54 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 to consider anything in company with the body she is ob- 
 viously deceived. 
 
 Yes, that is true. 
 
 Then must not existence be revealed to her in thought, if 
 at all? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 And thought is best when the mind is gathered into herself 
 and none of these things trouble her — neither sounds nor 
 sights nor pain nor any pleasure — when she has as little as 
 possible to do v/ith the body, and has no bodily sense or 
 feeling, but is aspiring after being? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 And in this the philosopher dishonors the body; his soul 
 runs away from the body and desires to be alone and by 
 herself ? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 Well, but there is another thing, Simmias: Is there or is 
 there not an absolute justice? 
 
 Assuredly there is. 
 
 And an absolute beauty and absolute good ? 
 
 Of course. 
 
 But did you ever behold any of them with your eyes ? 
 
 Certainly not. 
 
 Or did you ever reach them with any other bodily sense? 
 (and I speak not of these alone, but of absolute greatness, 
 and health and strength, and of the essence or true nature 
 of everything). Has the reality of, them ever been perceived 
 by you through the bodily organs? or rather, is not the 
 nearest approach to the knowledge of their several natures 
 made hy him who so orders his intellectual vision as to have 
 the most exact conception of the essence of that which he 
 considers ? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 And he attains to the knowledge of them in their highest 
 purity who goes to each of them with the mind alone, not 
 allowing when in the act of thought the intrusion or intro- 
 duction of sight or any other sense in the company of reason, 
 but v/ith the very light of the mind in her clearness penetrates 
 into the very light of truth in each; he has got rid, as far 
 as he can, of eyes and ears and of the whole body, which he 
 
PH^DO 55 
 
 conceives of only as a disturbing element, hindering the 
 soul from the acquisition of knowledge when in company 
 with her — is not this the sort of man who, if ever man did, 
 is likely to attain the knowledge of existence ? 
 
 There is admirable truth in that, Socrates, replied 
 Simmias. 
 
 And when they consider all this, must not true philoso- 
 phers make a reflection, of which they will speak to one 
 another in such words as these: We have found, they will 
 say, a path of speculation which seem.s to bring us and the 
 argument to the conclusion that while we are in the body, 
 and while the soul is mingled with this mass of evil, our 
 desire will not be satisfied, and our desire is of the truth. 
 For the body is a source of endless trouble to us by reason 
 of the mere requirement of food; and also is liable to diseases 
 which overtake and impede us in the search after truth: 
 and by filling us so full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and 
 fancies, and idols, and every sort of folly, prevents out ever 
 having, as people say^ so much as a thought. For whence 
 come wars, and fightings, and factions? whence btit from 
 the body and the lusts of the body ? For wars are occasioned 
 by the love of money, and money has to be acquired for the 
 sake and in the service of the body ; and in consequence of all 
 these things the time which ought to be given to philosophy is 
 lost. Moreover, if there is time and an inclination tov/ard 
 philosophy, yet the body introduces a turmoil and confusion 
 and fear into the course of speculation, and hinders ua from 
 seeing the truth : and all experience shows that if we would 
 have pure knowledge of anything we must be quit of the 
 body, and the soul in herself must behold all things in them- 
 selves: then I suppose that we shall attain that which we 
 desire, and of which we say that we are lovers, and that is 
 wisdom, not while we live, but after death, as the argument 
 shows; for if wdiile in company with the body the soul 
 cannot have pure knowledge, one of two things seems to 
 follow — either knowledge is not to be attained at all, or, 
 if at all, after death. For then, and not till then, the soul 
 will be in herself alone and without the body. In this present 
 life, I reckon that we make the nearest approach to knowl- 
 edge when we have the least possible concern or interes' 
 
56 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 in the body, and are not saturated with the bodily nature, 
 but remain pure until the hour when God himself is pleased 
 to release us. And when the foolishness of the body will be 
 cleared away and we shall be pure and hold converse with 
 other pure souls, and know of ourselves the clear light every- 
 where; and this is surely the light of truth. For no impure 
 thing is allowed to approach the pure. These are the sort 
 of words, Simmias, which the true lovers of wisdom cannot 
 help saying to one another, and thinking. You will agree 
 with me in that? 
 
 Certainly, Socrates. 
 
 But if this is true, O my friend, then there is great hope 
 that, going whither I go, I shall there be satisfied with that 
 which has been the chief concern of you and me in our past 
 lives. And now that the hour of departure is appointed to 
 me, this is the hope with which I depart, and not I only, 
 but every man who believes that he has his mind purified. 
 
 Certainly, replied Simmias. 
 
 And what is purification but the separation of the soul 
 from the body, as I was saying before ; the habit of the soul 
 gathering and collecting herself into herself, out of all the 
 courses of the body; the dwelling in her own place alone, 
 as in another life, so also in this, as far as she can; the re- 
 lease of the soul from the chains of the body ? 
 
 Very true, he said. 
 
 And what is that which is termed death, but this very sepa- 
 ration and release of the soul from the body? 
 
 To be sure, he said. 
 
 And the true philosophers, and they only, study and are 
 eager to release the soul. Is not the separation and release 
 of the soul from the body their especial study? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 And as I was saying at first, there v/ould be a ridiculous 
 contradiction in men studying to live as nearly as they can 
 in a state of death, and yet repining when death comes. 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 Then, Simmias, as the true philosophers are ever studying 
 'death, to them, of all men, death is the least terrible. Look 
 at the matter in this way : how inconsistent of them to have 
 been always enemies of the body^ and wanting to have the 
 
PH^DO 57 
 
 soul alone, and when this is granted to them, to be trembling 
 and repining; instead of rejoicing at their departing to that 
 place where, when they arrive, they hope to gain that which 
 in life they loved (and this was wisdom), and at the same 
 time to be rid of the company of their enemy. Many a 
 man has been willing to go to the world below in the hope 
 of seeing there an earthly love, or wife, or son, and con- 
 versing VN^ith them. And will he who is a true lover of 
 wisdom, and is persuaded in like manner that only in the 
 ,world below he can worthily enjoy her, still repine at death? 
 Will he not depart with joy? Surely he will, my friend, if 
 he be a true philosopher. For he will have a firm convic- 
 tion that there only, and nowhere else, he can find wisdom 
 in her purity. And if this be true, he would be very absurd, 
 as I was saying, if he were to fear death. 
 
 He would, indeed, replied Simmias. 
 
 And when you see a man who is repining at the approach 
 of death, is not his reluctance a sufficient proof that he is not 
 a lover of wisdom, but a lover of the body, and probably at 
 the same time a lover of either money or power, or both? 
 
 That is very true, he replied. 
 
 There is a virtue, Simmias, which is named courage. Is 
 not that a special attribute of the philosophy. 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 Again, there is temperance. Is not the calm, and control, 
 and disdain of the passions which even the many call tem- 
 perance, a quality belonging only to those who despise the 
 body and live in philosophy? 
 
 That is not to be denied. 
 
 For the courage and temperance of other men, if you will 
 consider them, are really a contradiction. 
 
 How is that, Socrates? 
 
 Well, he said, you are aware that death is regarded by 
 tnen in general as a great evil. 
 
 That is true, he said. 
 
 And do not courageous men endure death because they are 
 afraid of yet greater evils? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 Then all but the philosophers are courageous only from 
 fear, and because they are afraid ; and yet that a man should 
 
S8 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 be courageous from fear, and because he is a coward, is 
 surely a strange thing. 
 
 Very true. 
 
 And are not the temperate exactly in the same case? 
 They are temperate because they are intemperate — which 
 may seem to be a contradiction, but is nevertheless the sort 
 of thing which happens with this foolish temperance; For 
 there are pleasures which they must have, and are afraid 
 of losing; and therefore they abstain from one class of 
 pleasures because they are overcome by another : and whereas 
 intemperance is defined as " being under the dominion of 
 pleasure," they overcome only because they are overcome 
 by pleasure. And that is what I mean by saying that they 
 are temperate through intemperance. 
 
 That appears to be true. 
 
 Yet the exchange of one fear or pleasure or pain for 
 another fear or pleasure or pain, which are measured like 
 coins, the greater with the less, is not the exchange of virtue. 
 O my dear Simmias, is there not one true coin for which 
 all things ought to exchange ? — and that is wisdom ; and only 
 in exchange for this, and in company with this, is anything 
 truly bought or sold, whether courage or temperance or 
 justice. And is not all true virtue the companion of wisdom, 
 no matter what fears or pleasures or other similar goods or 
 evils may not attend her? But the virtue which is made 
 up of these goods, when they are severed from wisdom 
 and exchanged with one another, is a shadow of virtue only, 
 nor is there any freedom or health or truth in her; but in 
 the true exchange there is a purging away of all these things, 
 and temperance, and justice, and courage, and wisdom her- 
 self are a purgation of them. And I conceive that the found- 
 ers of the mysteries had a real m-caning and were not mere 
 triflers when they intimated in a figure long ago that he who 
 passed unsanctified and uninitiated into the w^orld below 
 w-ill live in a slough, but that he who arrives there after 
 initiation and purification will dwell with the gods. For 
 " many," as they say in the mysteries, *' are the thyrsus bear- 
 ers, but few are the mystics," — meaning, as I interpret the 
 words, the true philosophers. In the number of whom I 
 have been seeking, according to my ability, to find a $lace 
 
PHiEDO 59 
 
 during my whole life; whether I have sought in a right 
 way or not, and whether I have succeeded or not, I shall 
 truly know in a little while, if God will, when I myself arrive 
 in the other world: that is my belief. And now, Simmias 
 and Cebes, I have answered those who charge me v/ith not 
 grieving or repining at parting from you and my masters 
 in this world; and I am right in not repining, for I believe 
 that I shall find other masters and friends who are as good 
 in the world below. But all men cannot receive this, and 
 I shall be glad if my words have any more success with you 
 than with the judges of Athenians. 
 
 Cebes answered: I agree, Socrates, in the greater part of 
 what you say. But in what relates to the soul, men are apt 
 to be incredulous; they fear that when she leaves the body 
 her place miay be nowhere, and that on the very day of death 
 she may be destroyed and perish — immediately on her release 
 from the body, issuing forth like smoke or air and vanishing 
 away into nothingness. For if she could only hold together 
 and be herself after she was released from the evils of the 
 body, there would be good reason to hope, Socrates, that 
 what you say is true. But much persuasion and miany argu- 
 ments are required in order to prove that when the man is 
 dead the soul yet exists, and has any force of intelligence. 
 
 True, Cebes, said Socrates; and shall I suggest that we 
 talk a little of the probabilities of these things? 
 
 I am sure, said Cebes, that I should greatly like to know 
 your opinion about them. 
 
 I reckon, said Socrates, that no one who heard me now, 
 not even if he were one of my old enemies, the comic poets, 
 could accuse me of idle talking about matters in which I 
 have no concern. Let us, then, if you please, proceed with 
 the inquiry. 
 
 Whether the souls of men after death are or are not in 
 the world below, is a question which may be argued in this 
 manner. The ancient doctrine of which I have been speak- 
 ing affirms that they go from this into the other world, and 
 return hither, and are born from the dead. Now if this be 
 true, and the living come from the dead, then our souls must 
 be in the other world, for if not, how could they be born 
 again? And this ;would be conclusive, if there were an^ 
 
60 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 real evidence that the living are only born from the dead; 
 but if there is no evidence of this, then other arguments 
 will have to be adduced. 
 
 That is very true, replied Cebes. 
 
 Then let us consider this question, not in relation to man 
 only, but in relation to animals generally, and to plants, and 
 to everything of which there is generation, and the proof 
 will be easier. Are not all things which have opposites 
 generated out of their opposites? I mean such things as 
 good and evil, just and unjust — and there are innumerable 
 other opposites which are generated out of opposites. And 
 I want to show that this holds universally of all opposites; 
 I mean to say, for example, that anything which becomes 
 greater must become greater after being less. 
 
 True. 
 
 And that which becomes less must have been once greater 
 and then become less. 
 
 Yes. 
 
 And the weaker is generated from the stronger, and the 
 swifter from the slower. 
 
 Very true. 
 
 And the worse is from the better, and the more just is 
 from the more unjust? 
 
 Of course. 
 
 And is this true of all opposites? and are we convinced 
 that all of them are generated out of opposites ? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 And in this universal opposition of all things, are there not 
 also two intermediate processes which are ever going on, 
 from one to the other, and back again; where there is a 
 greater and a less there is also an intermediate process of 
 increase and diminution, and that which grows is said to 
 wax, and that which decays to wane? 
 
 Yes, he said. 
 
 And there are many other processes, such as division and 
 composition, cooling and heating, which equally involve a 
 passage into and out of one another. And this holds of all 
 opposites, even though not always expressed in words — they 
 are generated out of one another, and there is a passing or 
 process from one to the other of them? 
 
PH^DO 61 
 
 Very true, he replied. 
 
 Well, and is there not an opposite of life, as sleep is the 
 opposite of waking? 
 
 True, he said. 
 
 And what is that? 
 
 Death, he answered. 
 
 And these, then, are generated, if they are opposites, the 
 one from the other, and have there their two intermediate 
 processes also? 
 
 Of course. 
 
 Now, said Socrates, I will analyze one of the two pairs of 
 opposites which I have mentioned to you, and also its inter- 
 mediate processes, and you shall analyze the other to me. 
 The state of sleep is opposed to the state of waking, and out 
 of sleeping waking is generated, and out of waking, sleeping, 
 and the process of generation is in the one case falling asleep, 
 and in the other waking up. Are you agreed about that? 
 
 Quite agreed. 
 
 Then suppose that you analyze life and death to me in the 
 same manner. Is not death opposed to life? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 And they are generated one from the other ? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 What is generated from life? 
 
 Death. 
 
 And what from death? 
 
 I can only say in answer — life. 
 
 Then the living, whether things or persons, Cebes, are 
 generated from the dead? 
 
 That is clear, he replied. 
 
 Then the inference is, that our souls are in the world 
 below ? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 And one of the two processes or generations is visible — 
 for surely the act of dying is visible? 
 
 Surely, he said. 
 
 And may not the othef 1)e inferred as the complement of 
 nature, who is not to be supposed to go on one leg only? 
 And if not, a corresponding process of generation in death 
 must also be assigned to her^ 
 
62 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 Certainly, he replied. 
 
 And what is that process ? 
 
 Revival. 
 
 And revival, if there be such a thing, is the birth of the 
 dead into the world of the living? 
 
 Quite true. 
 
 Then there is a new way in which we arrive at the infer- 
 ence that the living come from the dead, just as the dead 
 come from the living; and if this is true, then the souls of 
 the dead must be in some place out of which they come 
 again. And this, as I think, has been satisfactorily proved. 
 
 Yes, Socrates, he said; all this seems to flow necessarily 
 out of our previous admissions. 
 
 And that these admissions are not unfair, Cebes, he said, 
 may be shown, as I think, in this way : If generation were in 
 a straight line only, and there were no compensation or circle 
 in nature, no turn or return into one another, then you know 
 that all things would at last have the same form and pass 
 into the same state, and there would be no more generation 
 of them. . 
 
 What do you mean? he said. 
 
 A simple thing enough, which I will illustrate by the case 
 of sleep, he replied. You know that if there were no com- 
 pensation of sleeping and waking, the story of the sleeping 
 Endymion would in the end have no meaning, because all 
 other things would be asleep, too, and he would not be 
 thought of. Or if there were composition only, and no 
 division of substances, then the chaos of Anaxagoras w^ould 
 come again. And in like manner, my dear Cebes, if all 
 things which partook of life were to die, and after they were 
 dead remained in the form of death, and did not come to 
 life again, all would at last die, and nothing would be alive — 
 how could this be otherwise ? For if the living spring from 
 any others who are not the dead, and they die, must not 
 all things at last be swallowed up in death ? 
 
 There is no escape from that, Socrates, said Cebes; and I 
 think that what you say is entirely true. 
 
 Yes, he said, Cebes, I entirely think so, too; and we are 
 not v/alking in a vain imagination; but I am confident in 
 the belief that there truly is such a thing as living again, and 
 
PHiEDO 63 
 
 that the living spring from the dead, and that the souls of 
 the dead are in existence, and that the good souls have a 
 better portion than the evil. 
 
 Cebes added : Your favorite doctrine, Socrates, that knowl- 
 edge is simply recollection, if true, also necessarily implies a 
 previous time in which we learned that which we now recol- 
 lect. But this would be impossible unless our soul was in 
 som.e place before existing in the human form; here, then, 
 is another argument of the soul's immortality. 
 
 But tell me, Cebes, said Simmias, interposing, what proofs 
 are given of this doctrine of recollection? I am not very 
 sure at this moment that I remember them. 
 
 One excellent proof, said Cebes, is afforded by questions, 
 if you put a question to a person in a right way, he will give 
 a true answer of himself; but how could he do this unless 
 there were knowledge and right reason already in him ? And 
 this is most clearly shown when he is taken to a diagram or 
 to anything of that sort. 
 
 But if, said Socrates, you are still incredulous, Simmias, 
 I would ask you whether you may not agree with me when 
 you look at the matter in another way; I mean, if you are 
 still incredulous as to whether knowledge is recollection? 
 
 Incredulous, I am not, said Simmias; but I want to have 
 this doctrine of recollection brought to my own recollection, 
 and, from v/hat Cebes has said, I am beginning to recollect 
 and be convinced; but I should still like to hear what more 
 you have to say. 
 
 This is what I would say, he replied : We should agree, if 
 I am not mistaken, that what a man recollects he must have 
 known at some previous time. 
 
 Very true. 
 
 And what is the nature of this recollection? And, in ask- 
 ing this, I mean to ask whether, v/hen a person has already 
 seen or heard or in any way perceived anything, and he 
 knows not only that, but something else of which he has 
 not the same, but another knowledge, we may not fairly say 
 that he recollects that which comes into his mind. Are we 
 agreed about that? 
 
 What do you mean? 
 
 I mean what I may illustrate by the following instance: 
 
64 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 The knowledge of a lyre is not the same as the knowledge 
 of a man? 
 
 True. 
 
 And yet what is the feeling of lovers when they recognize 
 a lyre, or a garment, or anything else which the beloved has 
 been in the habit of using? Do not they, from knowing the 
 lyre, form in the mind's eye an image of the youth to whom 
 the lyre belongs? And this is recollection: and in the same 
 way any one who sees Simmias may remember Cebes; and 
 there are endless other things of the same nature. 
 
 Yes, indeed, there are — endless, replied Simmias. 
 
 And this sort of thing, he said, is recollection, and is most 
 commonly a process of recovering that which has been for- 
 gotten through time and inattention. 
 
 Very true, he said. 
 
 Well; and may you not also from seeing the picture of a 
 horse or a lyre remember a man? and from the picture of 
 Simmias, you may be led to remember Cebes ? 
 
 True. 
 
 Or you may also be led to the recollection of Simmias him- 
 self? 
 
 True, he said. 
 
 And in all these cases, the recollection may be derived 
 from things either like or unlike? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 And when the recollection is derived from like things, then 
 there is sure to be another question, which is, Whether the 
 likeness of that which is recollected is in any way defective 
 or not? 
 
 Very true, he said. 
 
 And shall we proceed a step further, and affirm that there 
 is such a thing as equality, not of wood with wood, or of 
 stone with stone, but that, over and above this, there is 
 equality in the abstract? Shall we affirm this? 
 
 Affirm, yes, and swear to it, replied Simmias, with all the 
 confidence in life. 
 
 And do we know the nature of this abstract essence? 
 
 To be sure, he said. 
 
 And whence did we obtain this knowledge? Did we not 
 see equalities of material things, such as pieces of wood and 
 
PHiEDO 65 
 
 stones, and gather from them the idea of an equality which 
 is different from them? — you will admit that? Or look at 
 the matter again in this way: Do not the same pieces of 
 wood or stone appear at one time, equal and at another time 
 unequal ? 
 
 That is certain. 
 
 But are real equals ever unequal ? or is the idea of equality 
 ever inequality? 
 
 That surely was never yet known, Socrates. 
 
 Then these (so-called) equals are not the same with the 
 idea of equality? 
 
 I should say, clearly not, Socrates. 
 
 And yet from these equals, although differing from the 
 idea of equality, you conceived and attained that idea ? 
 
 Very true, he said. 
 
 Which might be like, or might be unlike them? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 But that makes no difference; whenever from seeing one 
 thing you conceived another, whether like or unlike, there 
 must surely have been an act of recollection? 
 
 Very true. 
 
 But what would you say of equal portions of wood and 
 stone, or other material equals? and what is the impression 
 produced by them ? Are they equals in the same sense as ' 
 absolute equality ? or do they fall short of this in a measure ? 
 
 Yes, he said, in a very great measure, too. 
 
 And must we not allow that when I or any one look at 
 any object, and perceive that the object aims at being some 
 other thing, but falls short of, and cannot attain to it — he who 
 makes this observation must have had previous knowledge of 
 that to which, as he says, the other, although similar, was 
 inferior ? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 And has not this been our case in the matter of equals 
 and of absolute equality? 
 
 Precisely. 
 
 Then we must have known absolute equality previously to 
 the time when we first saw the material equals, and reflected 
 that all these apparent equals aim at this absolute equality, 
 but fall short of it? 
 
 3 HC— Vol. 2 
 
66 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 That is true. 
 
 And we recognize also that this absolute equality has only 
 been known, and can only be known, through the medium of 
 sight or touch, or of some other sense. And this I would 
 affirm of all such conceptions. 
 
 Yes, Socrates, as far as the argument is concerned, one of 
 them is the sam.e as the other. 
 
 And from the senses, then, is derived the knowledge that 
 all sensible things aim at an idea of equality of which they 
 fall short — is not that true? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 Then before we began to see or hear or perceive in any 
 way, we must have had a knowledge of absolute equality, or 
 we could not have referred to that the equals which are 
 derived from the senses — for to that they all aspire, and of 
 that they fall short? 
 
 That, Socrates, is certainly to be inferred from the previous 
 statements. 
 
 And did we not see and hear and acquire our other senses 
 as soon as we v/ere born? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 Then we must have acquired the knowledge of the ideal 
 equal at some time previous to this? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 That is to say, before we were born, I suppose? 
 
 True. 
 
 And if we acquired this knowledge before we were born, 
 and were born having it, then we also knew before we were 
 born and at the instant of birth not only equal or the greater 
 or the less, but all other ideas ; for we are not speaking only 
 of equality absolute, but of beauty, good, justice, holiness, and 
 all which we stamp with the name of essence in the dialectical 
 process, when we ask and answer questions. Of all this we 
 may certainly affirm that we acquired the knowledge before 
 birth ? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 Eut if, after having acquired, we have not forgotten tliat 
 which we acquired, then we must always have been born 
 with knowledge, and shall always continue to know as long 
 as life lasts — for knowing is the acquiring and retaining 
 
PHiEDO 67 
 
 knowledge and not forgetting. Is not forgetting, Simmias, 
 just the losing of knowledge? 
 
 Quite true, Socrates. 
 
 But if the knowledge which we acquired before birth was 
 lost by us at birth, and afterwards by the use of the senses 
 we recovered that which we previously knew, will not that 
 which we call learning be a process of recovering our know- 
 ledge, and may not this be rightly termed recollection by us ? 
 
 Very true. 
 
 For this is clear, that when we perceived something, either 
 by the help of sight or hearing, or some other sense, there was 
 no difficulty in receiving from this a conception of some 
 other thing like or unlike which had been forgotten and which 
 was associated with this; and therefore, as I was saying, 
 one of two alternatives follow : either we had this knowledge 
 at birth, and continued to know through life; or, after birth, 
 those who are said to learn only remember, and learning is 
 recollection only. 
 
 Yes, that is quite true, Socrates. 
 
 And which alternative, Simmias, do you prefer? Had we 
 the knowledge at our birth^ or did we remember afterwards 
 the things which we knew previously to our birth ? 
 
 I cannot decide at the moment. 
 
 At any rate you can decide whether he who has knowledge 
 ought or ought not to be able to give a reason for what he 
 knows. 
 
 Certainly, he ought. 
 
 But do you think that every man is able to give a reason 
 about these very matters of which we are speaking? 
 
 I wish that they could, Socrates, but I greatly fear that to- 
 morrow at this time there will be no one able to give a reason 
 worth having. 
 
 Then you are not of opinion, Simmias, that all men know 
 these things? 
 
 Certainly not. 
 
 Then they are In process of recollecting that which they 
 learned before. 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 But when did our souls acquire this knowledge ? — not since 
 we were born as men? 
 
63 
 
 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 Certainly not. 
 
 And therefore previously? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 Then, Simmias, our souls must have existed before they 
 were in the form of man — without bodies, and must have had 
 intelligence ? 
 
 Unless indeed you suppose, Socrates, that these notions 
 were given us at the moment of birth; for this is the only 
 time that remains. 
 
 Yes, my friend, but when we did lose them? for they are 
 not in us when we are born — that is admitted. Did we lose 
 them at the moment of receiving them, or at some other time ? 
 
 No, Socrates, I perceive that I was unconsciously talking 
 nonsense. 
 
 Then may we not say, Simmias, that if, as we are always 
 repeating, there is an absolute beauty, and goodness, and es- 
 sence in general, and to this, which is now discovered to be 
 a previous condition of our being, we refer all our sensations, 
 and with this compare them — assuming this to have a prior 
 existence, then our souls must have had a prior existence, 
 but if not, there would be no force in the argument. There 
 can be no doubt that if these absolute ideas existed before we 
 were born, then our souls must have existed before we were 
 born, and if not the ideas, then not the souls. 
 
 Yes, Socrates; I am convinced that there is precisely the 
 Same necessity for the existence of the soul before birth, and 
 of the essence of which you are speaking: and the argument 
 arrives at a result which happily agrees with my own notion. 
 For there is nothing which to my mind is so evident as that 
 beauty, good, and other notions of which you were just now 
 speaking have a most real and absolute existence; and I am 
 Satisfied with the proof. 
 
 Well, but is Cebes equally satisfied? for I must convince 
 him too. 
 
 I think, said Simmias, that Cebes Is satisfied : although he is 
 the most incredulous of mortals, yet I believe that he is con- 
 vinced of the existence of the soul before birth. But that 
 after death the soul will continue to exist is not yet proven 
 even to my own satisfaction. I cannot get rid of the feeling 
 of the many to which Cebes was referring— the feeling that 
 
PHiEDO 69 
 
 when the man dies the soul may be scattered, and that this 
 may be the end of her. For admitting that she may be gen- 
 erated and created in some other place, and may have existed 
 before entering the human body, why after having entered in 
 and gone out again may she not herself be destroyed and 
 come to an end? 
 
 Very true, Simmias, said Cebes; that our soul existed be- 
 fore we were born was the first half of the argument, and 
 this appears to have been proven; that the soul will exist 
 after death as well as before birth is the other half of which 
 the proof is still wanting, and has to be supplied. 
 
 But that proofs Simmias and Cebes, has been already given 
 said Socrates, if you put the two arguments together — I 
 mean this and the former one, in which we admitted that 
 everything living is born of the dead. For if the soul existed 
 before birth, and in coming to life and being born can be 
 born only from death and dying, must she not after death 
 continue to exist, since she has to be born again? surely the 
 proof which your desire has been already furnished. Still 
 I suspect that you and Simmias would be glad to probe the 
 argument further; like children, you are haunted with a fear 
 that when the soul leaves the body, the wind may really blow 
 her away and scatter her ; especially if a man should happen 
 to die in stormy weather and not when the sky is calm. 
 
 Cebes answered with a smile: Then, Socrates, you must 
 argue us out of our fears — and yet, strictly speaking, they 
 are not our fears, but there is a child within us to whom 
 death is a sort of hobgoblin; him too we laust persuade not 
 to be afraid when he is alone with him in the dark. 
 
 Socrates said: Let the voice of the charmer be applied 
 daily until you have charmed him away. 
 
 And where shall we find a good charmer of our fears, 
 Socrates, when you are gone? 
 
 Hellas, he replied, is a large place, Cebes, and has many 
 good men, and there are barbarous races not a few: seek 
 for him among them all, far and wide, sparing neither pains 
 nor money ; for there is no better way of using your money. 
 And you must not forget to seek for him among yourselves 
 too ; for he is nowhere more likely to be found. 
 
 The search, replied Cebes, shall certainly be made. And 
 
70 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 now, if you please, let us return to the point of the argument 
 at which we digressed. 
 
 By all means, replied Socrates ; what else should I please ? 
 
 Very good, he said. 
 
 Must we not, said Socrates, ask ourselves some question 
 of this sort? — What is that which, as we imagine, is liable 
 to be scattered away, and about which we fear? and what 
 again is that about which we have no fear ? And then we may 
 proceed to inquire whether that which suffers dispersion is 
 or is not of the nature of soul — our hopes and fears as to 
 our own souls will turn upon that. 
 
 That is true, he said. 
 
 Now the compound or composite may be supposed to be 
 naturally capable of being dissolved in like manner as of be- 
 ing compounded; but that which is uncompounded, and that 
 only, must be, if anything is, indissoluble. 
 
 Yes; that is what I should imagine, said Cebes. 
 
 And the uncompounded may be assumed to be the same and 
 unchanging, where the compound is always changing and 
 never the same? 
 
 That I also think, he said. 
 
 Then now let us return to the previous discussion. Is that 
 idea or essence, which in the dialectical process we define 
 as essence of true existence — whether essence of equality, 
 beauty, or anything else: are these essences, I say, liable at 
 times to some degree of change? or are they each of them 
 always what they are, having the same simple, self-existent 
 and unchanging forms, and not admitting of variation at all, 
 or in any way, or at any time? 
 
 They must be always the same, Socrates, replied Cebes. 
 
 And what would you say of the many beautiful — whether 
 men or horses or garments or any other things which may 
 be called equal or beautiful — are they all unchanging 
 and the same always, or quite the reverse? May they 
 not rather be described as almost alv^^ays changing and 
 hardly ever the same either with themselves or with one 
 another ? 
 
 The latter, replied Cebes; they are always in a state of 
 change. 
 
 And these you can touch and see and perceive with the 
 
PHiEDO 71 
 
 senses, but the unchanging things you can only perceive with 
 the mind — ^they are invisible and are not seen ? 
 
 That is very true, he said. 
 
 Well, then, he added, let us suppose that there are two 
 sorts of existences, one seen, the other unseen. 
 
 Let us suppose them. 
 
 The seen is the changing, and the unseen is the unchanging. 
 
 That may be also supposed. 
 
 And, further, is not one part of us body, and the rest of 
 us soul? 
 
 To be sure. 
 
 And to which class may we say that the body is more alike 
 and akin? 
 
 Clearly to the seen : no one can doubt that. 
 
 And is the soul seen or not seen? 
 
 Not by man, Socrates. 
 
 And by " seen " and " not seen " is meant by us that which 
 is or is not visible to the eye of man? 
 
 Yes, to the eye of man. 
 
 And what do we say of the soul ? is that seen or not seen ? 
 
 Not seen. 
 
 Unseen then? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 Then the soul is more like to the unseen, and the body to 
 the seen? 
 
 That is most certain, Socrates. 
 
 And were we not saying long ago that the soul when using 
 the body as an instrument of perception, that is to say, when 
 using the sense of sight or hearing or some other sense (for 
 the meaning of perceiving through the body is perceiving 
 through the senses) — were we not saying that the soul too 
 is then dragged by the body into the region of the change- 
 able, and wanders and is confused; the world spins round 
 her, and she is like a drunkard when under their influence ? 
 
 Very true. 
 
 But when returning into herself she reflects; then she 
 passes into the realm of purity, and eternity, and immortality, 
 and unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them 
 she ever lives, when she is by herself and is not let or hin- 
 dered; then she ceases from her erring ways, and being in 
 
72 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 communion with the unchanging is unchanging. And this 
 state of the soul is called wisdom ? 
 
 That is well and truly said, Socrates, he replied. 
 
 And to which class is the soul more nearly alike and akin, 
 as far as may be inferred from this argument, as well as from 
 the preceding one? 
 
 I think, Socrates, that^ in the opinion of every one who fol- 
 lows the argument, the soul will be infinitely more like the un- 
 changeable — even the most stupid person will not deny that. 
 
 And the body is more like the changing? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 Yet once more consider the matter in this light : When the 
 soul and the body are united, then nature orders the soul to 
 rule and govern, and the body to obey and serve. 
 
 Now which of these two functions is akin to the divine? 
 and which to the mortal ? Does not the divine appear to you 
 to be that which naturally orders and rules, and the mortal 
 that which is subject and servant? 
 
 True. 
 
 And which does the soul resemble ? 
 
 The soul resembles the divine and the body the mortal — 
 there can be no doubt of that, Socrates. 
 
 Then reflect, Cebes : is not the conclusion of the whole mat- 
 ter this — that the soul is in the very likeness of the divine, 
 and immortal, and intelligible, and uniform, and indissoluble, 
 and unchangeable ; and the body is in the very likeness of the 
 human, and mortal, and unintelligible, and multiform, and 
 dissoluble, and changeable. Can this, my dear Cebes, be 
 denied ? 
 
 No, indeed. 
 
 But if this is true, then is not the body liable to speedy 
 dissolution? and is not the soul almost or altogether indis- 
 soluble ? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 And do you further observe, that after a man is dead, the 
 body, which is the visible part of man, and has a visible 
 framework, which is called a corpse, and which would nat- 
 urally be dissolved and decomposed and dissipated, is not 
 dissolved or decomposed at once, but may remain for a good 
 while, if the constitution be sound at the time of death, and 
 
PH^DO 73 
 
 the season of the year favorable ? For the body when shrunk 
 and embalmed, as is the custom in Egypt, may remain almost 
 entire through infinite ages ; and even in decay, still there are 
 some portions, such as the bones and ligaments, which are 
 practically indestructible. You allow that? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 And are we to suppose that the soul, which is invisible, in 
 passing to the true Hades, which like her is invisible, and 
 pure, and noble, and on her way to the good and wise God, 
 whither, if God will, my soul is also soon to go — ^that the 
 soul, I repeat, if this be her nature and origin, is blown away 
 and perishes immediately on quitting the body as the many 
 say? That can never be, dear Simmias and Cebes. The 
 truth rather is that the soul which is pure at departing draws 
 after her no bodily taint, having never voluntarily had con- 
 nection with the body, which she is ever avoiding, herself 
 gathered into herself (for such abstraction has been the study 
 of her life). And what does this mean but that she has been 
 a true disciple of philosophy and has practised how to die 
 easily? And is not philosophy the practice of death? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 That soul, I say, herself invisible, departs to the invisible 
 world — to the divine and immortal and rational : thither arriv- 
 ing, she lives in bliss and is released from the error and 
 folly of men, their fears and wild passions and all other 
 human ills, and forever dwells, as they say of the initiated, 
 in company with the gods. Is not this true, Cebes? 
 
 Yes, said Cebes, beyond a doubt. 
 
 But the soul which has been polluted, and is impure at the 
 time of her departure, and is the companion and servant of 
 the body always, and is in love with and fascinated by the 
 body and by the desires and pleasures of the body, until she 
 is led to believe that the truth only exists in a bodily form, 
 which a man may touch and see and taste and use for the pur- 
 poses of his lusts — the soul, I mean, accustomed to hate and 
 fear and avoid the intellectual principle, which to the bodily 
 eye is dark and invisible, and can be attained only by philos- 
 ophy — do you suppose that such a soul as this will depart 
 pure and unalloyed? 
 
 That is impossible, he replied. 
 
74 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 She is engrossed by the corporeal, which the continual as- 
 sociation and constant care of the body have made natural 
 to her. 
 
 Very true. 
 
 And this, my friend, may be conceived to be that heavy, 
 weighty, earthy element of sight by which such a soul is 
 depressed and dragged down again into the visible world, be- 
 cause she is afraid of the invisible and of the world below — 
 prowling about tombs and sepulchres, in the neighborhood of 
 which, as they tell us, are seen certain ghostly apparitions 
 of souls which have not departed pure, but are cloyed with 
 sight and therefore visible. 
 
 That is very likely, Socrates. 
 
 Yes, that is very likely, Cebes ; and these must be the souls, 
 not of the good, but of the evil, who are compelled to wander 
 about such places in payment of the penalty of their former 
 evil way of life ; and they continue to wander until the desire 
 which haunts them is satisfied and they are imprisoned in 
 another body. And they may be supposed to be fixed in the 
 same natures which they had in their former life. 
 
 What natures do you mean, Socrates? 
 
 I mean to say that men who have followed after gluttony, 
 and wantonness, and drunkenness, and have had no thought 
 of avoiding them, would pass into asses and animals of that 
 sort. What do you think? 
 
 I think that exceedingly probable. 
 
 And those who have chosen the portion of injustice, and 
 tyranny, and violence, will pass into wolves, or hawks, and 
 kites ; whither else can we suppose them to go ? 
 
 Yes, said Cebes ; that is doubtless the place of natures such 
 as theirs. 
 
 And there is no difficulty, he said, in assigning to all of 
 them places answering to their several natures and pro- 
 pensities ? 
 
 There is not, he said. 
 
 Even among them some are happier than others; and the 
 happiest both in themselves and their place of abode are those 
 who have practised the civil and social virtues which are 
 called temperance and justice, and are acquired by habit and 
 attention without philosophy and mind. 
 
PHiEDO 75 
 
 Why are they the happiest? 
 
 Because they may be expected to pass into some gentle, 
 social nature which is hke their own, such as that of bees or 
 ants, or even back again into the form of man, and just and 
 moderate men spring from them. 
 
 That is not impossible. 
 
 But he who is a philosopher or lover of learning, and is 
 entirely pure at departing, is alone permitted to reach the 
 gods. And this is the reason, Simmias and Cebes, why the 
 true votaries of philosophy abstain from all fleshly lusts, 
 and endure and refuse to give themselves up to them — not 
 because they fear poverty or the ruin of their families, like 
 the lovers of money, and the world in general; nor like the 
 lovers of power and honor, because they dread the dishonor 
 or disgrace of evil deeds. 
 
 No, Socrates, that would not become them, said Cebes. 
 
 No, indeed, he replied; and therefore they who have a 
 care of their souls, and do not merely live in the fashions 
 of the body, say farewell to all this ; they will not walk in 
 the ways of the blind: and when Philosophy offers them 
 purification and release from evil, they feel that they ought 
 not to resist her influence, and to her they incline, and 
 whither she leads they follow her. 
 
 What do you mean, Socrates ? 
 
 I will tell you, he said. The lovers of knowledge are con- 
 scious that their souls, when philosophy receives them, are 
 simply fastened and glued to their bodies: the soul is only 
 able to view existence through the bars of a prison, and not 
 in her own nature; she is wallowing in the mire of all 
 ignorance; and philosophy, seeing the terrible nature of her 
 confinement, and that the captive through desire is led to 
 conspire in her own captivity (for the lovers of knowledge 
 are aware that this was the original state of the soul, and 
 that when she was in this state philosophy received and 
 gently counseled her, and wanted to release her, pointing 
 out to her that the eye is full of deceit, and also the ear and 
 other senses, and persuading her to retire from them in all 
 but the necessary use of them and to be gathered up and 
 collected into herself, and to trust only to herself and her 
 own intuitions of absolute existence, and mistrust that which 
 
76 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 comes to her through others and is subject to vicissitude) — 
 philosophy shows her that this is visible and tangible, but 
 that what she sees in her own nature is intellectual and in- 
 visible. And the soul of the true philosopher thinks that 
 she ought not to resist this deliverance, and therefore ab- 
 stains from pleasures and desires and pains and fears, as 
 far as she is able; reflecting that when a man has great joys 
 or sorrows or fears or desires he suffers from them, not 
 the sort of evil which might be anticipated — as, for example, 
 the loss of his health or property, ,which he has sacrificed 
 to his lusts — but he has suffered an evil greater far, which 
 is the greatest and worst of all evils, and one of which he 
 never thinks. 
 
 And what is that, Socrates? said Cebes. 
 
 Why this: When the feeling of pleasure or pain in the 
 soul is most intense, all of us naturally suppose that the 
 object of this intense feeling is then plainest and truest: 
 but this is not the case. 
 
 Very true. 
 
 And this is the state in which the soul is most enthralled 
 by the body. 
 
 How is that? 
 
 Why, because each pleasure and pain is a sort of nail 
 which nails and rivets the soul to the body, and engrosses 
 her and makes her believe that to be true which the body 
 affirms to be true; and from agreeing with the body and 
 having the same delights she is obliged to have the same 
 habits and ways, and is not likely ever to be pure at her 
 departure to the world below, but is always saturated with 
 the body ; so that she soon sinks into another body and there 
 germinates and grows, and has therefore no part in the 
 communion of the divine and pure and simple. 
 
 That is most true, Socrates, answered Cebes. 
 
 And this, Cebes, is the reason why the true lovers of 
 knowledge are temperate and brave; and not for the reason 
 which the world gives. 
 
 Certainly not. 
 
 Certainly not! For not in that way does the soul of a 
 philosopher reason; she will not ask philosophy to release 
 her in order that when released she may deliver herself up 
 
PHiEDO 77 
 
 again to the thraldom of pleasures and pains, doing a work 
 only to be undone again, weaving instead of unweaving her 
 Penelope's web. But she will make herself a calm of passion 
 and follow Reason, and dwell in her, beholding the true and 
 divine (which is not matter of opinion), and thence derive 
 nourishment. Thus she seeks to live while she lives, and 
 after death she hopes to go to her own kindred and to be 
 freed from human ills. Never fear, Simmias and Cebes, that 
 a soul which has been thus nurtured and has had these pur- 
 suits, will at her departure from the body be scattered and 
 blown away by the winds and be nowhere and nothing. 
 
 When Socrates had done speaking, for a considerable time 
 there was silence; he himself and most of us appeared to be 
 meditating on what had been said; only Cebes and Simmias 
 spoke a few words to one another. And Socrates observing 
 this asked them what they thought of the argument, and 
 whether there was anything wanting? For, said he, much is 
 still open to suspicion and attack, if any one were disposed 
 to sift the matter thoroughly. If you are talking of some- 
 thing else I would rather not interrupt you, but if you are 
 still doubtful about the argument do not hesitate to say 
 exactly what you think, and let us have anything better 
 which you can suggest; and if I am likely to be of any use, 
 allow me to help you. 
 
 Simmias said: I must confess, Socrates, that doubts did 
 arise in our minds, and each of us was urging and inciting 
 the other to put the question which he wanted to have 
 answered and which neither of us liked to ask, fearing that 
 our importunity might be troublesome under present cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 Socrates smiled and said : O Simmias, how strange that is ; 
 I am not very likely to persuade other men that I do not 
 regard my present situation as a misfortune, if I am unable to 
 persuade you, and you will keep fancying that I am at all more 
 troubled now than at any other time. Will you not allow 
 that I have as much of the spirit of prophecy in me as the 
 swans? For they, when they perceive that they must die, 
 having sung all their life long, do then sing more than ever, 
 rejoicing in the thought that they are about to go away to 
 the god whose ministers they are. But men, because they 
 
78 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 are themselves afraid of death, slanderously affirm of the 
 swans that they sing a lament at the last, not. considering 
 that no bird sings when cold, or hungry, or in pain, not 
 even the nightingale, nor the swallow, nor yet the hoopoe; 
 which are said indeed to tune a lay of sorrow, although I 
 do not believe this to be true of them any more than of the 
 swans. But because they are sacred to Apollo and have the 
 gift of prophecy and anticipate the good things of another 
 world, therefore they sing and rejoice in that day more than 
 they ever did before. And I, too, believing myself to be the 
 consecrated servant of the same God, and the fellow servant 
 of the swans, and thinking that I have received from my 
 master gifts of prophecy which are not inferior to theirs, 
 would not go out of life less merrily than the swans. Cease 
 to mind then about this, but speak and ask anything which 
 you like, while the eleven magistrates of Athens allow. 
 
 Well, Socrates, said Simmias, then I will tell you my diffi- 
 culty, and Cebes will tell you his. For I dare say that you, 
 Socrates, feel as I do, how very hard or almost impossible 
 is the attainment of any certainty about questions such as 
 these in the present life. And yet I should deem him a 
 coward who did not prove of what is said about them to the 
 uttermost, or whose heart failed him before he had examined 
 them on every side. For he should persevere until he has 
 attained one of two things: either he should discover or 
 learn the truth about them ; or, if this is impossible, I would 
 have him take the best and most irrefragable of human no- 
 tions, and let this be the raft upon which he sails through life 
 • — not without risk, as I admit, if he cannot find some word 
 of God which will more surely and safely carry him. And 
 nov/, as you bid me, I will venture to question you, as I 
 should not like to reproach myself hereafter with not having 
 said at the time what I think. For when I consider the 
 m-atter either alone or with Cebes, the argument does cer- 
 tainly appear to me, Socrates, to be not sufficient. 
 
 Socrates answered: I dare say, my friend, that you may 
 be right, but I should like to know in what respect the argu- 
 ment is not sufficient. 
 
 In this respect, replied Simmias: Might not a person use 
 the same argument about harmony and the lyre — might he 
 
PHiEDO 79 
 
 not say that harmony is a thing invisible, incorporeal, fair, 
 divine, abiding in the lyre which is harmonized, but that 
 the lyre and the strings are matter and material, composite^ 
 earthy, and akin to mortality? And when some one breaks 
 the lyre, or cuts and rends the strings, then he who takes 
 this view would argue as you do, and on the same analogy, 
 that the harmony survives and has not perished; for you 
 cannot imagine, as we would say, that the lyre without the 
 strings, and the broken strings themselves, remain, and yet 
 that the harmony, which is of heavenly and immortal nature 
 and kindred, has perished — and perished too before the 
 mortal. The harmony, he would say, certainly exists some- 
 v/here, and the wood and strings will decay before that de- 
 cays. For I suspect, Socrates, that the notion of the soul 
 which we are all of us inclined to entertain, would also be 
 yours, and that you too would conceive the body to be strung 
 up, and held together, by the elements of hot and cold, wet 
 and dry, and the like, and that the soul is the harmony or 
 due proportionate admixture pf them. And, if this is true, 
 the inference clearly is that when the strings of the body 
 are unduly loosened or overstrained through disorder or 
 other injury, then the soul, though most divine, like other 
 harmonies of music or of the works of art, of course perishes 
 at once, although the material remains of the body may 
 last for a considerable time, until they are either decayed 
 or burnt. Now if any one maintained that the soul, being 
 the harmony of the elements of the body, first perishes in 
 that which is called death, how shall we answer him? 
 
 Socrates looked round at us as his manner was, and said, 
 with a smile : Simmias has reason on his side ; and why does 
 not some one of you who is abler than myself answer him? 
 for there is force in his attack upon me. But perhaps, before 
 we answer him, we had better also hear what Cebes has to 
 say against the argument — this will give us time for reflec- 
 tion, and when both of them have spoken, we may either 
 assent to them if their words appear to be in consonance 
 with the truth, or if not, v/e may take up the other side, and 
 argue with them. Please to tell me then, Cebes, he said, 
 what was the difficulty which troubled you ? 
 
 Cebes said: I will tell you. My feeling is that the argu- 
 
80 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 ment is still in the same position, and open to the same 
 objections which were urged before; for I am ready to admit 
 that the existence of the soul before entering into the bodily 
 lorm has been very ingeniously, and, as I may be allowed 
 to say, quite sufficiently proven; but the existence of the 
 soul after death is still, in my judgment, unproven. Now 
 my objection is not the same as that of Simmias; for I am 
 not disposed to deny that the soul is stronger and more 
 lasting than the body, being of opinion that in all such 
 respects the soul very far excels the body. Well, then, says 
 the argument to me, why do you remain unconvinced? 
 When you see that the weaker is still in existence after 
 the man is dead, will you not admit that the more lasting 
 must also survive during the same period of time? Now I, 
 like Simmias, must employ a figure; and I shall ask you to 
 consider whether the figure is to the point. The parallel 
 which I will suppose is that of an old weaver, who dies, 
 and after his death somebody says : He is not dead, he must 
 be alive; and he appeals to the coat which he himself wove 
 and wore, and which is still whole and undecayed. And then 
 he proceeds to ask of some one who is incredulous, whether 
 a man lasts longer, or the coat which is in use and wear; 
 and when he is answered that a man lasts far longer, thinks 
 that he has thus certainly demonstrated the survival of 
 the man, who is the more lasting, because the less lasting 
 remains. But that, Simmias, as I would beg you to observe, 
 is not the truth; every one sees that he who talks thus is 
 talking nonsense. For the truth is that this weaver, having 
 worn and woven many such coats, though he outlived several 
 of them, was himself outlived by the last; but this is surely 
 very far from proving that a man is slighter and weaker 
 than a coat. Now the relation of the body to the soul may 
 be expressed in a similar figure ; for you may say with reason 
 that the soul is lasting, and the body weak and shortlived in 
 comparison. And every soul may be said to wear out many 
 bodies, especially in the course of a long life. For if while 
 the man is alive the body deliquesces and decays, and yet 
 the soul always weaves her garment anew and repairs the 
 waste, then of course, when the soul perishes, she must have 
 on her last garment, and this only ,will survive her; but then 
 
PH^DO 81 
 
 again when the soul is dead the body will at last show its 
 native weakness, and soon pass into decay. And therefore 
 this is an argument on which I would rather not rely as 
 proving that the soul exists after death. For suppose that 
 we grant even more than you affirm as within the range 
 of possibility, and besides acknowledging that the soul ex- 
 isted before birth admit also that after death the souls of 
 some are existing still, and will exist, and will be born and 
 die again and again, and that there is a natural strength in 
 the soul which will hold out and be born many times — 
 for all this, we may be still inclined to think that she will 
 iweary in the labors of successive births, and may at last 
 succumb in one of her deaths and utterly perish; and this 
 death and dissolution of the body which brings destruction 
 to the soul may be imknown to any of us, for no one of 
 us can have had any experience of it: and if this be true, 
 then I say that he who is confident in death has but a foolish 
 confidence, unless he is able to prove that the soul is alto- 
 gether immortal and imperishable. But if he is not able to 
 prove this, he who is about to die will always have reason 
 to fear that when the body is disunited, the soul also may 
 utterly perish. 
 
 All of us, as we afterwards remarked to one another, had 
 an unpleasant feeling at hearing them say this. When we 
 had been so firmly convicted before, now to have our faith 
 shaken seemed to introduce a confusion and uncertainty, 
 not only into the previous argument, but into any future 
 one; either we were not good judges, or there were no real 
 grounds of belief. 
 
 Ech. There I feel with you — indeed I do, Ph^do, and 
 when you were speaking, I was beginning to ask myself the 
 same question : What argument can I ever trust again ? For 
 what could be more convincing than the argument of Soc- 
 rates, which has now fallen into discredit? That the soul 
 is a harmony is a doctrine which has always had a wonderful 
 attraction for me, and, when mentioned, came back to me 
 at once, as my own original conviction. And now I must 
 begin again and find another argument which will assure 
 me that when the man is dead the soul dies not with him. 
 Tell me, I beg, how did Socrates proceed? Did he appear 
 
82 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 to share the unpleasant feeling which you mentiofi? or did 
 he receive the interruption calmly and give a sufficient 
 answer ? Tell us, as exactly as you can, what passed. 
 
 Phced. Often, Echecrates, as I have admired Socrates, I 
 never admired him more than at that moment. That he 
 should be able to answer was nothing, but what astonished 
 me was, first, the gentle and pleasant and approving manner 
 in which he regarded the words of the young men, and then 
 his quick sense of the wound which had been inflicted by 
 the argument, and his ready application of the healing art. 
 He might be compared to a general rallying his defeated 
 and broken army, urging them to follow him and return to 
 the field of argument. 
 
 Ech. How was that? 
 
 Phced. You shall hear, for I was close to him on his right 
 hand, seated on a sort of stool, and he on a couch which 
 was a good deal higher. Now he had a way of playing with 
 my hair, and then he smoothed my head, and pressed the 
 hair upon my neck, and said : To-morrow, Phsedo, I suppose 
 that these fair locks of yours will be severed. 
 
 Yes, Socrates, I suppose that they will, I replied. 
 
 Not so if you will take my advice. 
 
 What shall I do with them ? I said. 
 
 To-day, he replied, and not to-morrow, if this argument 
 dies and cannot be brought to life again by us, you and I 
 will both shave our locks; and if I were you, and could 
 not maintain my ground against Simmias and Cebes, I would 
 myself take an oath, like the Argives, not to wear hair any 
 more until I had renewed the conflict and defeated them. 
 
 Yes, I said, but Heracles himself is said not to be a match 
 for two. 
 
 Summon me then, he said, and I will be your lolaus until 
 the sun goes down. 
 
 I summon you rather, I said, not as Heracles summoning 
 lolaus, but as lolaus might summon Heracles. 
 
 That will be all the same, he said. But first let us take 
 care that we avoid a danger. 
 
 And what is that ? I said. 
 
 The danger of becoming misologists, he replied, which is 
 one of the very worst things that can happen to us. For as 
 
PHvEDO 83 
 
 there are misanthropists or haters of men, there are also 
 misologists or haters of ideas, and both spring from the 
 same cause, which is ignorance of the world. Misanthropy 
 5irises from the- too great confidence of inexperience; you 
 trust a man and think him altogether true and good and 
 faithful, and then in a little while he turns out to be false 
 and knaviph; and then another and another, and when this 
 has happened several times to a man, especially within the 
 circle of his most trusted friends, as he deems them, and he 
 has often quarreled with them, he at last hates all men, and 
 believes that no one has any good in him at all. I dare say 
 that you must have observed this. 
 
 Yes, I said. 
 
 And is not this discreditable? The reason is that a man, 
 having to deal with other men, has no knowledge of them; 
 for if he had knowledge he would have known the true state 
 of the case, that few are the good and few the evil, and that 
 the great majority are in the interval between them.. 
 
 How do you mean ? I said. 
 
 I mean, he replied, as you might say of the very large and 
 very small, that nothing is more uncommon than a very large 
 or a very small man; and this applies generally to all ex- 
 tremes, whether of great and small, or swift and slow, or fair 
 and foul, or black and white : and whether the instances you 
 select be men or dogs or anything else, few are the extremes, 
 but many are in the mean between them. Did you never ob- 
 serve this? 
 
 Yes, I said, I have. 
 
 And do you not imagine, he said, that if there were a 
 competition of evil, the first in evil would be found to be 
 very few? 
 
 Yes, that is very likely, I said. 
 
 Yes, that is very likely, he replied ; not that in this respect 
 arguments are like men — there I was led on by you to say 
 more than I had intended; but the point of comparison was 
 that when a simple man who has no skill in dialectics be- 
 lieves an argument to be true which he afterwards imagines 
 to be false, whether really false or not, and then another and 
 another, he has no longer any faith left, and great disputers, 
 ;as you know, come to think at last that they have grown to 
 
84 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 be the wisest of mankind; for they alone perceive the utter 
 unsoundness and instability of all arguments, or, indeed, of 
 all things, which, like the currents in the Euripus, are going 
 up and down in never-ceasing ebb and flow. 
 
 That is quite true, I said. 
 
 Yes, Phsedo, he replied, and very melancholy too, if there 
 be such a thing as truth or certainty or power of knowing at 
 all, that a man should have lighted upon some argument or 
 other which at first seemed true and then turned out to be 
 false, and instead of blaming himself and his own want of 
 wit, because he is annoyed, should at last be too glad to trans- 
 fer the blame from himself to arguments in general ; and for- 
 ever afterwards should hate and revile them, and lose the 
 truth and knowledge of existence. 
 
 Yes, indeed, I said ; that is very melancholy. 
 
 Let us, then, in the first place, he said, be careful of admit- 
 ting into our souls the notion that there is no truth or health 
 or soundness in any arguments at all; but let us rather say 
 that there is as yet no health in us, and that we must quit 
 ourselves like men and do our best to gain health — ^you and 
 all other men with a view to the whole of your future life, 
 and I myself with a view to death. For at this moment I 
 am sensible that I have not the temper of a philosopher ; like 
 the vulgar, I am only a partisan. For the partisan, when he 
 is engaged in a dispute, cares nothing about the rights of the 
 question, but is anxious only to convince his hearers 6i 
 his own assertions. And the difference between him and me 
 at the present moment is only this — that whereas he seeks to 
 convince his hearers that what he says is true, I am rather 
 seeking to convince myself; to convince my hearers is a sec- 
 ondary matter with me. And do but see how much I gain by 
 this. For if what I say is true, then I do well to be persuaded 
 of the truths but if there be nothing after death, still, during 
 the short time that remains, I shall save my friends from 
 lamentations, and my ignorance will not last, and therefore 
 no harm will be done. This is the state of mind, Simmias and 
 Cebes, in which I approach the argument. And I would ask 
 you to be thinking of the truth and not of Socrates: agree 
 with me, if I seem to you to be speaking the truth ; or if not, 
 withstand me might and main, that I may not deceive you as 
 
PH^DO 85 
 
 well as myself in my enthusiasm, and, like the bee, leave my 
 sting in you before I die. 
 
 And now let us proceed, he said. And first of all let me 
 be sure that I have in my mind what you were saying. Sim- 
 mias, if I remember rightly, has fears and misgivings whether 
 the soul, being in the form of harmony, although a fairer 
 and diviner thing than the body, may not perish first. On 
 the other hand, Cebes appeared to grant that the soul was 
 more lasting than the body, but he said that no one could 
 know whether the soul, after having worn out many bodies, 
 might not perish herself and leave her last body behind her; 
 and that this is death, which is the destruction not of the 
 body but of the soul, for in the body the work of destruction 
 is ever going on. Are not these, Simmias and Cebes, the 
 points which we have to consider? 
 
 They both agreed to this statement of them. 
 
 He proceeded: And did you deny the force of the whole 
 preceding argument, or of a part only? 
 
 Of a part only, they replied. 
 
 And what did you think, he said, of that part of the argu- 
 ment in which we said that knowledge was recollection only, 
 and inferred from this that the soul must have previously 
 existed somewhere else before she was enclosed in the body ? 
 Cebes said that he had been wonderfully impressed by that 
 part of the argumient, and that his conviction remained un- 
 shaken. Simmias agreed, and added that he himself could 
 hardly imagine the possibility of his ever thinking differently 
 about that. 
 
 But, rejoined Socrates, you will have to think differently, 
 my Theban friend, if you still maintain that harmony is a 
 compound, and that the soul is a harmony which is made out 
 of strings set in the frame of the body; for you will surely 
 never allow yourself to say that a harmony is prior to the 
 elements which com.pose the harmony. 
 
 No, Socrates, that is impossible. 
 
 But do you not see that you are saying this when you say 
 that the soul existed before she took the form and body of 
 man, and was made up of elements which as yet had no 
 existence ? For harmony is not a sort of thing like the soul, 
 as you suppose; but first the lyre, and the strings, and the 
 
86 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 sounds exist in a state of discord, and then harmony is made 
 last of all, and perishes first. And how can such a notion of 
 the soul as this agree with the other? 
 
 Not at all, replied Simmias. 
 
 And yet, he said, there surely ought to be harmony when 
 harmony is the theme of discourse. 
 
 Tliere ought, replied Simmias. 
 
 But there is no harmony, he said, in the two propositions 
 that knowledge is recollection, and that the soul is a harmony. 
 Which of them, then, will you retain ? 
 
 I think, he replied, that I have a much stronger faith, Soc- 
 rates, in the first of the tvv^o, which has been fully demon- 
 strated to me, than in the latter, which has not been demon- 
 strated at all, but rests only on probable and plausible 
 grounds; and I know too well that these arguments from 
 probabilities are impostors, and unless great caution is ob- 
 served in the use of them they are apt to be deceptive — in 
 geometry, and in other things too. But the doctrine of knowl- 
 edge and recollection has been proven to me on trustworthy 
 grounds; and the proof was that the soul must have existed 
 before she came into the body, because to her belongs the 
 essence of which the very name implies existence. Having, 
 as I am convinced, rightly accepted this conclusion, and on 
 sufficient grounds, I must, as I suppose, cease to argue or 
 allow others to argue that the soul is a harmony. 
 
 Let me put the matter, Simmias, he said, in another point 
 of view: Do you imagine that a harmony or any other 
 composition can be in a state other than that of the elements 
 out of which it is compounded ? 
 
 Certainly not. 
 
 Or do or suffer anything other than they do or suffer ? 
 
 He agreed. 
 
 Then a harmony does not lead the parts or elements which 
 make up the harmony, but only follows them. 
 
 He assented. 
 
 For harmony cannot possibly have any motion, or sound, 
 or other quality which is opposed to the parts. 
 
 That would be impossible, he replied. 
 
 And does not every harmony depend upon the manner in 
 which the elements are harmonized? 
 
FHMDO 87 
 
 I do not understand you, he said. 
 
 I mean to say that a harmony admits of degrees, and is 
 more of a harmony, and more completely a harmony, when 
 more completely harmonized, if that be possible; and less 
 of a harmiony, and less completely a harmony, when less 
 harmonized. 
 
 True. 
 
 But does the soul admit of degrees? or is one soul in the 
 very least degree more or less, or more or less completely, 
 a soul than another? 
 
 Not in the least. 
 
 Yet surely one squI is said to have intelligence and virtue, 
 and to be good, and another soul is said to have folly and 
 vice, and to be an evil soul : and this is said truly ? 
 
 Yes, truly. 
 
 But what will those who maintain the soul to be a harmony 
 say of this presence of virtue and vice in the soul? — will 
 they say that there is another harmony, and another discord, 
 and that the virtuous soul is harmonized, and herself being 
 harmony has another harmony within her, and that the 
 vicious soul is inharmonical and has no harmony within her? 
 
 I cannot say, replied Simmias; but I suppose that some- 
 thing of that kind would be asserted by those who take this 
 view. 
 
 And the admission is already made that no soul is more a 
 soul than another; and this is equivalent to admitting that 
 harmony is not more or less harmony, or more or less com- 
 pletely a harmony? 
 
 Quite true. 
 
 And that which is not more or less a harmony is not more 
 or less harmonized? 
 
 True. 
 
 And that which is not more or less harmonized cannot have 
 more or less of harmony, but only an equal harmony? 
 
 Yes, an equal harmony. 
 
 Then one soul not being more or less absolutely a soul than 
 another, is not more or less harmonized? 
 
 Exactly. 
 
 And therefore has neither more nor less of harmony or of 
 discord ? 
 
88 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 She has not. 
 
 And having neither more nor less of harmony or of dis- 
 cord, one soul has no more vice or virtue than another, if 
 vice be discord and virtue harmony? 
 
 Not at all more. 
 
 Or speaking more correctly, Simmias, the soul, if she is a 
 harmony, will never have any vice ; because a harmony, being 
 absolutely a harmony, has no part in the inharmonical ? 
 
 No. 
 
 And therefore a soul which is absolutely a soul has no vice ? 
 
 How can she have, consistently with the preceding argu- 
 ment? 
 
 Then, according to this, if the souls of all animals are 
 equally and absolutely souls, they will be equally good? 
 
 I agree with you, Socrates, he said. 
 
 And can all this be true, think you? he said; and are all 
 these consequences admissible — which nevertheless seem to 
 follow from the assumption that the soul is a harmony? 
 
 Certainly not, he said. 
 
 Once m-ore, he said, what ruling principle is there of human 
 things other than the soul, and especially the wise soul ? Do 
 you know of any? 
 
 Indeed, I do not. 
 
 And is the soul in agreement with the affections of the 
 body? or is she at variance with them? For example, when 
 the body is hot and thirsty, does not the soul incline us 
 against drinking? and when the body is hungry, against eat- 
 ing? And this is only one instance out of ten thousand of 
 the opposition of the soul to the things of the body. 
 
 Very true. 
 
 But we have already acknowledged that the soul, being a 
 harmony, can never utter a note at variance with the tensions 
 and relaxations and vibrations and other affections of the 
 strings out of which she is composed; she can only follow, 
 she cannot lead them ? 
 
 Yes, he said, we acknowledged that, certainly. 
 
 And yet we do not now discover the soul to be doing the 
 exact opposite — leading the elements of which she is be- 
 lieved to be composed; almost always opposing and coercing 
 them in all sorts of ways throughout life, sometimes more 
 
PH^DO 89 
 
 violently with the pains of medicine and gymnastic; then 
 again more gently; threatening and also reprimanding the 
 desires, passions, fears, as if talking to a thing which is not 
 herself, as Homer in the " Odyssey " represents Odysseus 
 doing in the words, 
 
 "He beat his breast, and thus reproached his heart: 
 Endure, my heart; far worse hast thou endured I" 
 
 Do you think that Homer could have written this under the 
 idea that the soul is a harmony capable of being led by the af- 
 fections of the body, and not rather of a nature which leads 
 and masters them; and herself a far diviner thing than any 
 harmony ? 
 
 Yes, Socrates, I quite agree to that. 
 
 Then, my friend, we can never be right in saying that the 
 soul is a harmony, for that would clearly contradict the 
 divine Homer as well as ourselves. 
 
 True, he said. 
 
 Thus much, said Socrates, of Harmonia, your Theban god- 
 dess, Cebes, who has not been ungracious to us, I think; but 
 what shall I say to the Theban Cadmus, and how shall I pro- 
 pitiate him? 
 
 I think that you will discover a way of propitiating him, 
 said Cebes ; I am sure that you have answered the argument 
 about harmony in a manner that I could never have expected. 
 For when Simmias m.entioned his objection, I quite imagined 
 that no answer could be given to him, and therefore I was 
 surprised at finding that his argument could not sustain the 
 first onset of yours ; and not impossibly the other, whom you 
 call Cadmus, may share a similar fate. 
 
 Nay, my good friend, said Socrates, let us not boast, lest 
 some evil eye should put to flight the word which I am about 
 to speak. That, however, may be left in the hands of those 
 above, while I draw near in Homeric fashion, and try the 
 mettle of your words. Briefly, the sum of your objection is 
 as follows: You want to have proven to you that the soul 
 is imperishable and immortal, and you think that the philoso- 
 pher who is confident in death has but a vain and foolish 
 confidence, if he thinks that he will fare better than one v^rho 
 has led another sort of life, in the world below,, unless he 
 
90 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 can prove this; and you say that the demonstration of the 
 strength and divinity of the soul, and of her existence prior 
 to our becoming men, does not necessarily imply her immor- 
 tality. Granting that the soul is long-lived, and has known 
 and done much in a former state, still she is not on that 
 account immortal; and her entrance into the human form 
 may be a sort of disease v/hich is the beginning of dissolu- 
 tion, and may at last, after the toils of life are over, end 
 in that which is called death. And whether the soul enters 
 into the body once only or many times, that as you would 
 say, makes no difference in the fears of individuals. For 
 any man, who is not devoid of natural feeling, has reason 
 to fear, if he has no knowledge or proof of the soul's immor- 
 tality. That is what I suppose you to say, Cebes, which I 
 designedly repeat, in order that nothing may escape us, 
 and that you may, if you wish, add or subtract anything. 
 
 But, said Cebes, as far as I can see at present, I have noth- 
 ing to add or subtract; you have expressed my meaning. 
 
 Socrates paused awhile, and seemed to be absorbed in re- 
 flection. At length he said: This is a very serious inquiry 
 which you are raising, Cebes, involving the whole question 
 of generation and corruption, about which I will, if you like, 
 give you my own experience; and you can apply this, if 
 you think that anything which I say will avail towards the 
 solution of your difficulty. 
 
 I should very much like, said Cebes, to hear what you 
 have to say. 
 
 Then I will tell you, said Socrates. When I was young, 
 Cebes, I had a prodigious desire to know that department 
 of philosophy which is called Natural Science ; this appeared 
 to me to have lofty aims, as being the science which has 
 to do with the causes of things, and which teaches why a 
 thing is, and is created and destroyed; and I was always 
 agitating myself with the consideration of such questions 
 as these : Is the growth of animals the result of some decay 
 which the hot and cold principle contract, as some have 
 said? Is the blood the element with which we think, or the 
 air, or the fire ? or perhaps nothing of this sort — but the brain 
 may be the originating power of the perceptions of hearing 
 and sight and smell, and memorjr and opinion may come 
 
PH^DO 91 
 
 from them, and science may be based on mem.ory and opinion 
 when no longer in motion, but at rest. And then I went 
 on to examine the decay of them, and then to the things 
 of heaven and earth, and at last I concluded that I was 
 wholly incapable of these inquiries, as I will satisfactorily 
 prove to you. For I was fascinated by them to such a 
 degree that my eyes grew blind to things that I had seemed 
 to myself, and also to others, to know quite v/ell; and I 
 forgot what I had before thought to be self-evident, that the 
 growth of man is the result of eating and drinking ; for when 
 by the digestion of food flesh is added to flesh and bone to 
 bone, and whenever there is an aggregation of congenial 
 elements, the lesser bulk becomes larger and the small man 
 greater. Was not that a reasonable notion? 
 
 Yes, said Cebes, I think so. 
 
 Well; but let me tell you something more. There was a 
 time when I thought that I understood the meaning of greater 
 and less pretty well; and when I saw a great man standing 
 by a little one I fancied that one was taller than the other 
 by a head, one horse would appear to be greater than another 
 horse: and still more clearly did I seem to perceive that 
 ten is two more than eight, and that two cubits are more 
 than one, because two is twice one. 
 
 And what is now your notion of such matters? said 
 .Cebes. 
 
 I should be far enough from imagining, he replied, that I 
 knew the cause of any of them, indeed I should, for I cannot 
 satisfy myself that when one is added to one, the one to 
 which the addition is made becomes two, or that the two 
 units added together make two by reason of the addition. 
 For I cannot understand how, when separated from the 
 other, each of them was one and not two, and now, when 
 they are brought together, the mere juxtaposition of them 
 can be the cause of their becoming two: nor can I under- 
 stand how the division of one is the way to make two; for 
 then a different cause would produce the same effect — as 
 in the former instance the addition and juxtaposition of 
 one to one was the cause of two, in this the separation 
 and subtraction of one from the other would be the 
 cause. Nor am I any longer satisfied that I understand 
 
92 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 the reason why one or anything else either is generated or 
 destroyed or is at all, but I have in my mind some confused 
 notion of another method, and can never admit this. 
 
 Then I heard some one who had a book of Anaxagoras, as 
 he said, out of which he read that mind was the disposer and 
 cause of all, and I was quite delighted at the notion of this, 
 which appeared admirable, and I said to myself: If mind is 
 the disposer, mind will dispose all for the best, and put each 
 particular in the best place; and I argued that if any one 
 desired to find out the cause of the generation or destruction 
 or existence of anything, he must find out what state of 
 being or suffering or doing was best for that thing, and 
 therefore a man had only to consider the best for himself 
 and others, and then he would also know the worse, for that 
 the same science comprised both. And I rejoiced to think 
 that I had found in Anaxagoras a teacher of the causes 
 of existence such as I desired, and I imagined that he would 
 tell me first whether the earth is flat or round; and then 
 he would further explain the cause and the necessity of this, 
 and would teach me the nature of the best and show that 
 this was best; and if he said that the earth was in the 
 centre, he would explain that this position was the best, 
 and I should be satisfied if this were shown to me, and 
 not want any other sort of cause. And I thought that I 
 would then go and ask him about the sun and moon and 
 stars, and that he would explain to m.e their comparative 
 swiftness, and their returnings and various states, and how 
 their several affections, active and passive, were all for the 
 best. For I could not imagine that when he spoke of 
 mind as the disposer of them, he would give any other 
 account of their being as they are, except that this was best ; 
 and I thought when he had explained to me in detail the 
 cause of each and the cause of all, he would go on to 
 explain to me what was best for each and what was best 
 for all. I had hopes which I would not have sold for much, 
 and I seized the books. and read them as fast as I could in 
 my eagerness to know the better and the worse. 
 
 What hopes I had formed, and how grievously was I dis- 
 appointed ! As I proceeded, I found my philosopher alto- 
 gether forsaking mind or any other principle of order, but 
 
PH^DO 93 
 
 having recourse to air, and ether, and >vater, and other 
 eccentricities. I might compare him to a person who began 
 by maintaining generally that mind is the cause of the actions 
 of Socrates, but who, when he endeavored to explain the 
 causes of my several actions in detail, went on to show that 
 I sit here because my body is made up of bones and muscles ; 
 and the bones, as he would say, are hard and have liga- 
 ments which divide them, and the muscles are elastic, and 
 they cover the bones, which have also a covering or en- 
 vironment of flesh and skin which contains them ; and as the 
 bones are lifted at their joints by the contraction or relaxa- 
 tion of the muscles, I am able to bend my limbs, and this is 
 why I am sitting here in a curved posture: that is what he 
 would say, and he would have a similar explanation of my 
 talking to you, which he would attribute to sound, and air, 
 and hearing, and he would assign ten thousand other causes 
 of the same sort, forgetting to mention the true cause, which 
 is that the Athenians have thought fit to condemn me, and 
 accordingly I have thought it better and more right to 
 remain here and undergo my sentence; for I am inclined to 
 think that these muscles and bones of mine would have gone 
 off to Megara or Boeotia — by the dog of Egypt they would, 
 if they had been guided only by their own idea of what was 
 best, and if I had not chosen as the better and nobler part, 
 instead of playing truant and running away, to undergo any 
 punishment which the State inflicts. There is surely a 
 strange confusion of causes and conditions in all this. It 
 may be said, indeed, that without bones and muscles and the 
 other parts of the body I cannot execute my purposes. But 
 to say that I do as I do because of them, and that is the 
 way in which mind acts, and not from the choice of the best, 
 is a very careless and idle mode of speaking. I wonder that 
 they cannot distinguish the cause from the condition, which 
 the many, feeling about in the dark, are always mistaking 
 and misnaming. And thus one man makes a vortex all 
 round and steadies the earth by the heaven; another gives 
 the air as a support to the earth, which is a sort of broad 
 trough. Any power which in disposing them as they are 
 disposes them for the best never enters into their minds, nor 
 do they imagine that there is any superhuman strength 
 
04 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 in that ; they rather expect to find another Atlas of the world 
 who is stronger and more everlasting and more containing 
 than the good is, and are clearly of opinion that the obliga- 
 tory and containing power of the good is as nothing; and 
 yet this is the principle which I would fain learn if any 
 one would teach me. But as I have failed either to discover 
 myself or to learn of anyone else, the nature of the best, 
 I will exhibit to you, if you like, what I have found to be 
 the second best mode of inquiring into the cause. 
 
 I should very much like to hear that, he replied. 
 
 Socrates proceeded: I thought that as I had failed in the 
 contemplation of true existence, I ought to be careful that 
 I did not lose the eye of my soul; as people may injure their 
 bodily eye by observing and gazing on the sun during an 
 eclipse, unless they take the precaution of only looking at 
 the image reflected in the water, or in some similar medium. 
 That occurred to me, and I was afraid that my soul might 
 be blinded altogether if I looked at things with my eyes 
 or tried by the help of the senses to apprehend them. And 
 I thought that I had better have recourse to ideas, and seek 
 in them the truth of existence. I dare say that the simile 
 is not perfect — for I am very far from admitting that he 
 who contemplates existence through the medium of ideas, 
 sees them only " through a glass darkly," any more than 
 he who sees them in their working and effects. However, 
 this was the method which I adopted: I first assumed some 
 principle which I judged to be the strongest, and then I 
 afiirmed as true whatever seemed to agree with this, whether 
 relating to the cause or to anything else; and that which 
 disagreed I regarded as untrue. But I should like to explain 
 my meaning clearly, as I do not think that you under- 
 stand me. 
 
 No, indeed, replied Cebes, not very well. 
 
 There is nothing new, he said, in what I am about to tell 
 you; but only what I have been always and everywhere re- 
 peating in the previous discussion and on other occasions: 
 I want to show you the nature of that cause which has occu- 
 pied my thoughts, and I shall have to go back to those famil- 
 iar words which are in the mouth of every one, and first of 
 all assume that there is an absolute beauty and goodness, 
 
PHiEDO 95 
 
 and greatness, and the like ; grant me this, and I hope to be 
 able to show you the nature of the cause, and to prove the 
 immortality of the soul. 
 
 Cebes said : You may proceed at once with the proof, as I 
 readily grant you this. 
 
 Well, he said, then I should like to know whether you agree 
 with me in the next step; for I cannot help thinking that 
 if there be anything beautiful other than absolute beauty, 
 that can only be beautiful in as far as it partakes of absolute 
 beauty — and this I should say of everything. Do you agree 
 in this notion of the cause? 
 
 Yes, he said, I agree. 
 
 He proceeded: I know nothing and can understand noth- 
 ing of any other of those wise causes which are alleged ; and 
 if a person says to me that the bloom of color, or form, or 
 anything else of that sort is a source of beauty, I leave all 
 that, which is only confusing to me, and simply and singly, 
 and perhaps foolishly, hold and am assured in my own mind 
 that nothing makes a thing beautiful but the presence and 
 participation of beauty in whatever way or manner obtained ; 
 for as to the manner I am uncertain, but I stoutly contend 
 that by beauty all beautiful things become beautiful. That 
 appears to me to be the only safe answer that I can give, 
 either to myself or to any other, and to that I cling, in the 
 persuasion that I shall nerer be overthrown, and that I may 
 safely answer to myself or any other that by beauty beautiful 
 things become beautiful. Do you not agree to that? 
 
 Yes, I agree. 
 
 And that by greatness only great things become great 
 and greater greater, and by smallness the less becomes less. 
 
 True. 
 
 Then if a person remarks that A is taller by a head than B, 
 and B less by a head than A, you would refuse to admit this, 
 and would stoutly contend that what you mean is only that 
 the greater is greater by, and by reason of, greatness, and 
 the less is less only by, or by reason of, smallness ; and thus 
 you would avoid the danger of saying that the greater^ is 
 greater and the less less by the measure of the head, which 
 is the same in both and would also avoid the monstrous ab- 
 surdity of supposing that the greater man is greater by 
 
96 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 reason of the head, which is small. Would you not be afraid 
 of that ? 
 
 Indeed, I should, said Cebes, laughing. 
 
 In like manner you would be afraid to say that ten exceeded 
 eight by, and by reason of, two; but would say by, and by 
 reason of, number; or that two cubits exceed one cubit by 
 a half, but by magnitude — that is what you would say, for 
 there is the same danger in both cases. 
 
 Very true, he said. 
 
 Again, would you not be cautious of affirming that the 
 addition of one to one, or the division of one, is the cause 
 of two? And you would loudly asseverate that you know 
 of no way in which anything comes into existence except by 
 participation in its own proper essence, and consequently, 
 as far as you know, the only cause of two is the participation 
 in duality; that is, the way to make two, and the participa- 
 tion in one is the way to make one. Yoa would say: I will 
 let alone puzzles of division and addition — wiser heads than 
 mine may answer them; inexperienced as I am, and ready 
 to start, as the proverb says, at my own shadow, I cannot 
 afford to give up the sure ground of a principle. And if 
 any one assails you there, you would not mind him, or 
 answer him until you had seen whether the consequences 
 which follow agree with one another or not, and when you 
 are further required to give an explanation of this principle, 
 you would go on to assume a higher principle, and the best 
 of the higher ones until you found a resting-place; but you 
 would not refuse the principle and the consequences in your 
 reasoning like the Eristics — at least if you wanted to 
 discover real existence. Not that this confusion signifies 
 to them who never care or think about the matter at 
 all, for they have the wit to be well pleased with them- 
 selves, however great may be the turmoil of their ideas. 
 But you, if you are a philosopher, will, I believe, do as 
 I say. 
 
 What you say is most true, said Simmias and Cebes, botK 
 speaking at once. 
 
 Ech. Yes, Phsedo; and I don't wonder at their assenting. 
 Anyone who has the least sense will acknowledge the won- 
 derful clearness of Socrates's reasoning. 
 
PHiEDO 97 
 
 Phced. Certainly, Echecrates; and that was the feeling of 
 the whole company at the time. 
 
 Ech. Yes, and equally of ourselves, who were not of the 
 company, and are now listening to your recital. But what 
 followed ? 
 
 Phced. After all this was admitted, and they had agreed 
 about the existence of ideas and the participation in them 
 of the other things which derive their names from them, Soc- 
 rates, if I remember rightly, said : — 
 
 This is your way of speaking; and yet when you say that 
 Simmias is greater than Socrates and less than Phaedo, do 
 you not predicate of Simmias both greatness and smallness? 
 
 Yes, I do. 
 
 But still you allow that Simmias does not really exceed 
 Socrates, as the words may seem to imply, because he is 
 Simmias, but by reason of the size which he has ; just as Sim- 
 mias does not exceed Socrates because he is Simmias, any 
 more than because Socrates is Socrates, but because he has 
 smallness when compared with the greatness of Simmias? 
 
 True. 
 
 And if Phgedo exceeds him in size, that is not because 
 Phaedo is Phsedo, but because Phaedo has greatness relatively 
 to Simmias, who is comparatively smaller? 
 
 That is true. 
 
 And therefore Simmias is said to be great, and is also said 
 to be small, because he is in a mean between them, exceeding 
 the smallness of the one by his greatness, and allowing the 
 greatness of the other to exceed his smallness. He added, 
 laughing, I am speaking like a book, but I believe that what 
 I am now saying is true. 
 
 Simmias assented to this. 
 
 The reason why I say this is that I want you to agree 
 with me in thinking, not only that absolute greatness will 
 never be great and also small, but that greatness in us or 
 in the concrete will never admit the small or admit of being 
 exceeded: instead of this, one of two things will happen — 
 either the greater will fly or retire before the opposite, which 
 is the less, or at the advance of the less will cease to exist; 
 but will not, if allowing or admitting smallness, be changed 
 by that; even as I, having received and admitted smallness 
 
 4 HC— Vol. 2 
 
98 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 when compared with Simmias, remain just as I was, and am 
 the same small person. And as the idea of greatness cannot 
 condescend ever to be or become small, in like manner the 
 smallness in us cannot be or become great; nor can any other 
 opposite which remains the same ever be or become its own 
 opposite, but either passes away or perishes in the change. 
 
 That, replied Cebes, is quite my notion. 
 
 One of the company, though I do not exactly remember 
 which of them, on hearing this, said : By Heaven, is not this 
 the direct contrary of what was admitted before— that out 
 of the greater came the less and out of the less the greater, 
 and that opposites are simply generated from opposites; 
 whereas now this seems to be utterly denied. 
 
 Socrates inclined his head to the speaker and listened. I 
 like your courage, he said, in reminding us of this. But you 
 do not observe that there is a difference in the two cases. 
 For then we were speaking of opposites in the concrete, 
 and now of the essential opposite which, as is afifirm_ed, 
 neither in us nor in nature can ever be at variance with 
 itself: then, my friend, we were speaking of things in which 
 opposites are inherent and which are called after them, but 
 now about the opposites which are inherent in them and 
 which give their name to them; these essential opposites 
 will never, as v/e maintain, admit of generation into or 
 out of one another. At the same timxe, turning to Cebes, he 
 said: Were you at all disconcerted, Cebes, at our friend's 
 objection? 
 
 That was not my feeling, said Cebes; and yet I cannot 
 deny that I am apt to be disconcerted. 
 
 Then we are agreed after all, said Socrates, that the 
 opposite will never in any case be opposed to itself? 
 
 To that we are quite agreed, he replied. 
 
 Yet once more let me ask you to consider the question 
 from another point of view, and see whether you agree with 
 me: There is a thing which you term heat, and another 
 thing which you term cold? 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 But are they the same as fire and snow? 
 
 Most assuredly not. 
 
 Heat is not the same as fire, nor is cold the same as snow? 
 
FH^DO 99 
 
 No. 
 
 And yet you will surely admit that when snow, as before 
 said, is under the influence of heat, they will not remain 
 snow and heat ; but at the advance of the heat the snow will 
 either retire or perish? 
 
 Very true, he replied. 
 
 And the fire too at the advance of the cold will either 
 retire or perish; and when the fire is under the influence o£ 
 the cold, they will not remain, as before, fire and cold. 
 
 That is true, he said. 
 
 And in som.e cases the name of the idea is not confined to 
 the idea; but anything else which, not being the idea, exists, 
 only in the form of the idea, may also lay claim to it. I will 
 try to make this clearer by an example : The odd number is 
 always called by the name of odd? 
 
 Very true. 
 
 But is this the only thing which is called odd? Are there 
 not other things which have their own name, and yet are 
 called odd, because, although not the same as oddness, they 
 are never without oddness? — that is what I mean to ask — 
 whether numbers such as the number three are not of the 
 class of odd. And there are many other examples : would 
 you not say, for example, that three may be called by its 
 proper name, and also be called odd, which is not the same 
 with three? and this may be said not only of three but also 
 of five, and every alternate number — each of them without 
 being oddness is odd, and in the same way two and four, and 
 the whole series of alternate numbers, has ever}^ number even, 
 v/ithout being evenness. Do you admit that? 
 
 Yes, he said, how can I deny that? 
 
 Then now mark the point at which I am aiming: not only 
 do essential opposites exclude one another, but also concrete 
 things, which, although not in themselves opposed, contain 
 opposites; these, I say, also reject the idea which is opposed 
 to that which is contained in them, and at the advance of 
 that they either perish or withdraw. There is the number 
 three for example; will not that endure annihilation or any- 
 thing sooner than be converted into an even number, remain- 
 ing three? 
 
 Very true, said Cebes. 
 
100 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 And yet, he said, the number two is certainly not opposed 
 to the number three ? 
 
 It is not. 
 
 Then not only do opposite ideas repel the advance of one 
 another, but also there are other things which repel the ap- 
 proach of opposites. 
 
 That is quite true, he said. 
 
 Suppose, he said, that we endeavor, if possible, to deter- 
 mine what these are. 
 
 By all means. 
 
 Are they not, Cebes, such as compel the things of which 
 they have possession, not only to take their own form, but 
 also the form of some opposite? 
 
 What do you mean? 
 
 I mean, as I was just now saying, and have no need to re- 
 peat to you, that those things which are possessed by the 
 number three m.ust not only be three in number, but must 
 also be odd. 
 
 Quite true. 
 
 And on this oddness, of which the number three has the 
 impress, the opposite idea will never intrude? 
 
 No. 
 
 And this impress was given by the odd principle? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 And to the odd is opposed the even ? 
 
 True. 
 
 Then the idea of the even number will never arrive at 
 three ? 
 
 No. 
 
 Then three has no part in the even? 
 
 None. 
 
 Then the triad or number three is uneven? 
 
 Very true. 
 
 To return then to my distinction of natures which are not 
 opposites, and yet do not admit opposites : as in this instance, 
 three although not opposed to the even, does not any the 
 more admit of the even, but always brings the opposite into 
 play on the other side; or as two does not receive the odd, 
 or fire the cold — from these examples (and there are many 
 more of them) perhaps you may be able to arrive at the gen- 
 
PHJEDO 101 
 
 eral conclusion that not only opposites will not receive op- 
 posites, but also thai nothing which brings the opposite will 
 admit the opposite of that which it brings in that to which 
 it is brought. And here let me recapitulate — for there is no 
 harm in repetition. The number five will not admit the 
 nature of the even, any more than ten, which is the double of 
 five, will admit the nature of the odd — the double, though not 
 strictly opposed to the odd, rejects the odd altogether. Nor 
 again will parts in the ratio of 3 : 2, nor any fraction in 
 which there is a half, nor again in which there is a third, 
 admit the notion of the whole, although they are not opposed 
 to the whole. You will agree to that? 
 
 Yes, he said, I entirely agree and go along with you in 
 that. 
 
 And now, he said, I think that I may begin again ; and to 
 the question which I am about to ask I will beg you to give 
 not the old safe answer, but another, of which I will offer you 
 an example; and I hope that you will find in what has been 
 just said another foundation which is as safe. I mean that 
 if anyone asks you, " What that is, the inherence of which 
 makes the body hot?" you will reply not heat (this is what 
 I call the safe and stupid ansv/er), but fire, a far better an- 
 swer, which we are now in a condition to give. Or if any- 
 one asks you, " Why a body is diseased," you will not say 
 from disease, but from fever ; and instead of saying that odd- 
 ness is the cause of odd numbers, you will say that the monad 
 is the cause of them : and so of things in general, as I dare say 
 that you will understand sufficiently without my adducing 
 any further examples. 
 
 Yes, he said, I quite understand you. 
 
 Tell me, then, what is that the inherence of which will 
 render the body alive? 
 
 The soul, he replied. 
 
 And is this always the case? 
 
 Yes, he said, of course. 
 
 Then whatever the soul possesses, to that she comes bear^ 
 ing life? 
 
 Yes, certainly. 
 
 And is there any opposite to life? 
 
 There is, he said. 
 
102 DIALOGUE OF PLATO 
 
 And what is that? 
 
 Death. 
 
 Then the soul, as has been acknowledged, will never re- 
 ceive the opposite of what she brings. A.nd now, he said^ 
 what did we call that principle which repels the even ? 
 
 The odd. 
 
 And that principle which repels the musical; or the just?. 
 
 The unmusical, he said, and the unjust. 
 
 And what do we call the principle which does not admit 
 of death? 
 
 The immortal, he said. 
 
 And does the soul admit of death? 
 
 No. 
 
 Then the soul is immortal? 
 
 Yes, he said. 
 
 And may we say that this is proven? 
 
 Yes, abundantly proven, Socrates, he replied. 
 
 And supposing that the odd were imperishable, must not 
 three be imperishable? 
 
 Of course. 
 
 And if that which is cold were imperishable, when the 
 warm principle came attacking the snow, must not the snow 
 have retired whole and unmelted — for it could never have 
 perished, nor could it have remained and admitted the heat? 
 
 True, he said. 
 
 Again, if the uncooling or warm principle were imperish- 
 able, the fire when assailed by cold would not have perished 
 or have been extinguished, but would have gone away un- 
 affected ? 
 
 Certainly, he said. 
 
 And the same may be said of the immortal : if the Immortal 
 is also imperishable, the soul when attacked by death cannot 
 perish; for the preceding argument shows that the soul will 
 not admit of death, or ever be dead, any more than tkree or 
 the odd number will admit of the even, or fire or the heat 
 in the fire, of the cold. Yet a person may say : " But although 
 the odd will not become even at the approach of the even, 
 why may not the odd perish and the even take the place of 
 the odd?'' Now to him who makes this objection, we can- 
 not answer that the odd principle is imperishable; for this 
 
PHiEDO 103 
 
 lias not been acknowledged, but if this had been aclcnowl- 
 edgedj there would have been no difficulty in contending 
 that at the approach of the even the odd principle and the 
 number three took up their departure; and the same argu- 
 ment would have held good of fire and heat and any other 
 thing. 
 
 Very true 
 
 And the same may be said of the immortal : if the immortal 
 is also imperishable, then the soul v/ill be imperishable as 
 well as immortal; but if not, some other proof of her im- 
 perishableness will have to be given. 
 
 No other proof is needed, he said ; for if the immortal, be- 
 ing eternal, is liable to perish, then nothing is imperishable. 
 
 Yes, replied Socrates, all men will agree that God, and the 
 essential form of life, and the immortal in general will never 
 perish. 
 
 Yes, all men, he said— that is true ; and what is more, gods, 
 if I am not mistaken, as well as men. 
 
 Seeing then that the immortal is indestructible, must not 
 the soul, if she is immortal, be also imperishable? 
 
 Most certainly. 
 
 Then when death attacks a man, the mortal portion of him 
 may be supposed to die, but the im^mortal goes out of the 
 way of death and is preserved safe and sound? 
 
 True. -'^ 
 
 Then, Cebes, beyond question the soul is immortal an3 
 imperishable, and our souls will truly exist in another world ! 
 
 I am convinced, Socrates, said Cebes, and have nothing 
 more to object; but if my friend Simmias, or anyone else, 
 has any further objection, he had better speak out, and not 
 keep silence, since I do not know how there can ever be a 
 more fitting time to which he can defer the discussion, if 
 there is anything which he wants to say or have said. 
 
 But I have nothing more to say, replied Simmias ; nor do I 
 see any room for uncertainty, except that which arises neces- 
 sarily out of the greatness of the subject and the feebleness 
 of man, and which I cannot help feeling. 
 
 Yes, Simmias, replied Socrates, that is well said : and more 
 ^han that, first principles, even if they appear certain, should 
 be carefully considered; and when they are satisfactorily 
 
104 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 ascertained, then, with a sort of hesitating conSdence m 
 human reason, you may, I think, follow the course of the 
 argument ; and if this is clear, there will be no need iov any 
 further inquiry. 
 
 That, he said, is true. 
 
 But then, O my friends, he said, if the soul Is really im- 
 mortal, what care should be taken of her, not only in respect 
 of the portion of time which is called life, but of eternity! 
 And the danger of neglecting her from this point of view 
 does indeed appear to be awful. If death had only been the 
 end of all, the wicked would have had a good bargain in 
 dying, for they would have been happily quit not only of their 
 body, but of their own evil together with their souls. But 
 now, as the soul plainly appears to be immortal, there is no 
 release or salvation from evil except the attainment of the 
 highest virtue and wisdom. For the soul when on her progress 
 to the world below takes nothing with her but nurture and 
 education ; which are indeed said greatly to benefit or greatly 
 to injure the departed, at the very beginning of its pilgrimage 
 in the other world. 
 
 For after death, as they say, the genius of each individual, 
 to whom he belonged in life, leads him to a certain place 
 in which the dead are gathered together for judgment, whence 
 they go into the world below, following the guide who is 
 appointed to conduct them from this world to the other: and 
 when they have there received their due and remained their 
 time, another guide brings them back again after many revo- 
 lutions of ages. Now this journey to the other world is not, 
 as ^schylus says in the " Telephus," a single and straight 
 path — no guide would be wanted for that, and no one could 
 miss a single path; but there are many partings of the road, 
 and windings, as I must infer from the rites and sacrifices 
 which are offered to the gods below in places where three 
 ways meet on earth. The wise and orderly soul is conscious 
 of her situation and follows in the path; but the soul which 
 desires the body, and which, as I was relating before, has 
 long been fluttering about the lifeless frame and the world 
 of sight, is after many struggles and many sufferings hardly 
 and with violence carried away by her attendant genius, and 
 when she arrives at the place where the other souls are 
 
PH^DO 105 
 
 gathered, iff she be impure and have done impure deeds, or 
 been concerned in foul murders or other crimes which are the 
 brothers of these, and the works of brothers in crime — from 
 that soul every one flees and turns away; no one will be her 
 com.panion, no one her guide, but alone she wanders in ex- 
 tremity of evil until certain times are fulfilled, and when they 
 are fulfilled, she is borne irresistibly to her own fitting habi- 
 tation; as every pure and just soul which has passed through 
 life in the company and under the guidance of the gods has 
 also her own proper home. 
 
 Now the earth has divers wonderful regions, and is indeed 
 in nature and extent very unlike the notions of geographers, 
 as I believe on the authority of one who shall be nameless. 
 
 What do you mean, Socrates? said Simmias. I have my- 
 self heard many descriptions of the earth, but I do not 
 know in what you are putting your faith, and I should 
 like to know. 
 
 Well, Simmias, replied Socrates, the recital of a tale does 
 not, I think, require the art of Giaucus ; and I know not that 
 the art of Giaucus could prove the truth of my tale, which I 
 myself should never be able to prove, and even if I could, I 
 fear, Simmias, that my life would come to an end before the 
 argum^ent was com.pieted. I may describe to you, however, 
 the form and regions of the earth according to my conception 
 of them. 
 
 That, said Simmias, will be enough. 
 
 Well, then, he said, my conviction is that the earth is a 
 round body in the center of the heavens, and therefore has no 
 need of air or any similar force as a support, but is kept there 
 and hindered from falling or inclining any way by the equa- 
 bility of the surrounding heaven and by her own equipoise. 
 For that which, being in equipoise, is in the center of that 
 which is equably diffused, will not incline any way in any 
 degree, but will always remain in the same state and not 
 deviate. And this is my first notion. 
 
 Which is surely a correct one, said Simmias. 
 
 Also I believe that the earth is very vast, and that we who 
 dwell in the region extending from the river Phasis to the 
 Pillars of Heracles, along the borders of the sea, are just like 
 ants or frogs about a marsh, and inhabit a small portion only, 
 
106 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 and that many others dwell in many like places. For I should 
 say that in all parts of the earth there are hollows of various 
 forms and sizes, into which the water and the mist and the 
 air collect; and that the true earth is pure and in the pure 
 heaven, in which also are the stars — that is the heaven which 
 is commonly spoken of as the ether, of which this is but the 
 sediment collecting in the hollows of the earth. But we who 
 live in these hollows are deceived into the notion that we 
 are dwelling above on the surface of the earth; which is just 
 as if a creature who was at the bottom of the sea w^ere to fancy 
 that he was on the surface of the water, and that the sea was 
 the heaven through which he saw the sun and the other stars 
 — he having never come to the surface by reason of his 
 feebleness and sluggishness, and havmg never lifted up his 
 head and seen, nor ever heard from one who had seen, this 
 region which is so much purer and fairer than his own. Now 
 this is exactly our case : for we are dwelling in a hollow of 
 the earth, and fancy that we are on the surface ; and the air 
 we call the heaven, and in this we imagine that the stars 
 move. But this is also owing to our feebleness and sluggish- 
 ness, which prevent our reaching the surface of the air : for 
 if any man could arrive at the exterior limit, or take the 
 wings of a bird and fly upward, like a fish who puts his head 
 out and sees this world, he would see a world beyond; and, 
 if the nature of mian could sustain the sight, he would ac- 
 knowledge that this was the place of the true heaven and 
 the true light and the true stars. For this earth, and the 
 stones, and the entire region which surrounds us are spoilt 
 and corroded, like the things in the sea which are corroded by 
 the brine; for in the sea too there is hardly any noble or 
 perfect growth, but clefts onl)'-, and sand, and an endless 
 slough of mud: and even the shore is not to be compared 
 to the fairer sights of this world. And greater far is the 
 superiority of the other. Now of that upper earth which is 
 mnder the heaven, I can tell you a charming tale, Simmias, 
 which is well worth hearing. 
 
 And we, Socrates, replied Simmias, shall be charmed to 
 listen. 
 
 The tale, my friend, he said, is as follows. In the first 
 place, the earth, when looked at from above, is like one of 
 
PH^DO 107 
 
 those balls which have leather coverings in twelve pieces, 
 and is of divers colors, of which the colors which painters 
 use on earth are only a sample. But there the whole earth 
 is made up of them, and they are brighter far and clearer 
 than ours; there is a purple of wonderful luster, also the 
 radiance of gold, and the white which is in the earth is 
 whiter than any chalk or snow. Of these and other colors 
 the earth is made up, and they are more in number and 
 fairer than the eye of man has ever seen; and the very 
 hollows (of which I was speaking) filled with air and water 
 are seen like light flashing amid the other colors, and have 
 a color of their own, which gives a sort of unity to the 
 variety of earth. And in this fair region everything that 
 grows — trees, and flowers, and fruits — is in a like degree fairer 
 than any here; and there are hills, and stones in them in a 
 like degree smoother, and more transparent, and fairer in 
 color than our highly valued emeralds and sardonyxes and jas- 
 pers, and other gems, which are but minute fragments of them : 
 for there all the stones are like our precious stones, and 
 fairer still. The reason of this is that they are pure, and not, 
 like our precious stones, infected or corroded by the corrupt 
 briny elements which coagulate among us, and which breed 
 foulness and disease both in earth and stones, as well as in 
 animals and plants. They are the jewels of the upper earth, 
 which also shines with gold and silver and the like, and they 
 are visible to sight and large and abundant and found in 
 every region of the earth, and blessed is he who sees them. 
 And uoon the earth are animals and men, some in a middle 
 region, others dwelling about the air as we dwell about 
 the sea ; others in islands which the air flov/s round, near the 
 continent: and in a word, the air is used by them as the 
 water and the sea are by us, and the ether is to them what 
 the air to us. Moreover, the temperament of their seasons 
 is such that they have no disease, and live much longer than 
 we do, and have sight and hearing and smell, and all the 
 other senses, in far greater perfection, in the same degree 
 that air is purer than water or the ether than air. Also 
 they have temples and sacred places in which the gods really 
 dwell, and they hear their voices and receive their answers, 
 and are conscious of them and hold converse with them, and 
 
108 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 they see the sun, moon, and stars as they really are, and 
 their other blessedness is of a piece with this. 
 
 Such is the nature of the whole earth, and of the things 
 which are around the earth; and there are divers regions 
 in the hollows on the face of the globe everywhere, some of 
 them deeper and also wider than that which we inhabit, others 
 deeper and with a narrower opening than ours, and some 
 are shallower and wider; all have numerous perforations, 
 and passages broad and narrow in the interior of the earth, 
 connecting them with one another; and there flows into and 
 out of them, as into basins, a vast tide of v/ater, and huge 
 subterranean streams of perennial rivers, and springs hot 
 and cold, and a great fire, and great rivers of fire, and 
 streams of liquid mud, thin or thick (like the rivers of mud 
 in Sicily, and the lava-streams which follow them), and the 
 regions about which they happen to flow are filled up with 
 them. And there is a sort of swing in the interior of the 
 earth which moves all this up and down. Now the swing is 
 in this wise : There is a chasm which is the vastest of them 
 all, and pierces right through the whole earth; this is that 
 which Homer describes in the words — 
 
 "Far off, where is the inmost depth beneath the earth"; 
 
 and which he in other places, and many other poets, have 
 called Tartarus. And the swing is caused by the streams 
 flowing into and out of this chasm, and they each have the 
 nature of the soil through which they flow. And the reason 
 why the streams are always flowing in and out is that 
 the watery element has no bed or bottom, and is surging 
 and swinging up and down, and the surrounding wind and 
 air do the same; they follow the v/ater up and dow^n, hither 
 and thither, over the earth — just as in respiring the air is 
 always in process of inhalation and exhalation; and the 
 wind swinging with the water in and out produces fearful 
 and irresistible blasts: when the waters retire with a rush 
 into the lower parts of the earth, as they are called, they flow 
 through the earth into those regions, and fill them up as with 
 the alternate motion of a pump, and then when they leave 
 those regions and rush back hither, they again fill the hol- 
 lows here, and when these are filled, flow through subter- 
 
PH^DO 109 
 
 ranean channels and find their way to their several places, 
 forming seas, and lakes and rivers, and springs. Thence 
 they again enter the earth, some of them making a long cir- 
 cuit into many lands, others going to few places and those 
 not distant, and again fall into Tartarus, some at a point a 
 good deal lower than that at which they rose, and others 
 not much lower, but all in some degree lower than the point 
 of issue. And some burst forth again on the opposite side, 
 and some on the same side, and some wind round the earth 
 with one or many folds, like the coils of a serpent, and 
 descend as far as they can, but always return and fall into 
 the lake. The rivers on either side can descend only to the 
 center and no further, for to the rivers on both sides the 
 opposite side is a precipice. 
 
 Now these rivers are many, and mighty, and diverse, and 
 there are four principal ones, of which the greatest and 
 outermost is that called Oceanus, which flows round the 
 earth in a circle ; and in the opposite direction flows Acheron, 
 which passes under the earth through desert places, into 
 the Acherusian Lake : this is the lake to the shores of which 
 the souls of the many go when they are dead, and after 
 waiting an appointed time, which is to som.e a longer and to 
 some a shorter time, they are sent back again to be born 
 as animals. The third river rises between the two, and 
 near the place of rising pours into a vast region of fire, and 
 forms a lake larger than the Mediterranean Sea, boiling with 
 water and mud; and proceeding muddy and turbid, and 
 winding about the earth, comes, among other places, to the 
 extremities of the Acherusian Lake, but mingles not with 
 the waters of the lake, and after making many coils about 
 the earth plunges into Tartarus at a deeper level. This is 
 that Pyriphlegethon, as the stream is called, which throws 
 up jets of fire in all sorts of places. The fourth river goes 
 out on the opposite side, and falls first of all into a wild and 
 savage region, which is all of a dark-blue color, like lapis 
 lazuli; and this is that river which is called the Stygian 
 River, and falls into and forms the Lake Styx, and after 
 falling into the lake and receiving strange powers in the 
 waters, passes under the earth, v/inding round in the op- 
 posite direction to Pyriphlegethon, and meeting in the Ache- 
 
110 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 rusian Lake from the opposite side. And the water of this 
 river too mingles with no other, but flows round in a circle 
 and falls into Tartarus over against Pyriphlegethon, and the 
 name of this river, as the poet says, is Cocytus. 
 
 Such is the name of the other world; and when the dead 
 arrive at the place to which the genius of each severally 
 conveys them, first of all they have sentence passed upon 
 them, as they have lived well and piously or not. And those 
 who appear to have lived neither well nor ill, go to the 
 river Acheron, and mount such conveyances as they can get, 
 and are carried in them to the lake, and there they dwell and 
 are purified of their evil deeds, and suffer the penalty of 
 the wrongs which they have done to others, and are absolved, 
 and receive the rewards of their good deeds according to 
 their deserts. But those who appear to be incurable by 
 reason of the greatness of their crimes — who have com- 
 mitted many and terrible deeds of sacrilege, murders foul 
 and violent, or the like — such are hurled into Tartarus, which 
 is their suitable destiny, and they never come out. Those 
 again v/ho have committed crim.es, which, although great, are 
 not unpardonable — who in a moment of anger, for example, 
 have done violence to a father or mother, and have repented 
 for the remainder of their lives, or who have taken the life 
 of another under like extenuating circumstances — these are 
 plunged into Tartarus, the pains of which they are com- 
 pelled to undergo for a year, but at the end of the year the 
 wave casts them forth — mere homicides by way of Cocytus, 
 parricides and matricides by Pyriphlegethon — and they are 
 borne to the Acherusian Lake, and there they lift up 
 their voices and call upon the victims whom they have 
 slain or wronged, to have pity on them, and to receive them, 
 and to let them come out of the river into the lake. And if 
 they prevail, then they come forth and cease from their 
 troubles; but if not, they are carried back again into Tar- 
 tarus and from thence into the rivers unceasingly, until they 
 obtain mercy from those whom they have wronged : for that is 
 the sentence inflicted upon them by their judges. Those also 
 who are remarkable for having led holy lives are released 
 from this earthly prison, and go to their pure home which is 
 above, and dwell in the purer earth ; and those who have duly 
 
PH^DO 111 
 
 purifi'ed tfiemselves with philosophy live henceforth altogether 
 without the body, in mansions fairer far than these, which may 
 not be described, and of which the time would fail me to tell. 
 
 Wherefore, Simmias, seeing all these things, what ought 
 not we to do in order to obtain virtue and ;wisdom in this 
 life? Fair is the prize, and the hope great. 
 
 I do not mean to affirm that the description which I have 
 given of the soul and her mansions is exactly true — a man of 
 sense ought hardly to say that. But I do say that, inasmuch 
 as the soul is shown to be immortal, he may venture to think 
 not improperly or unworthily, that something of the kind is 
 true. The venture is a glorious one, and he ought to com- 
 fort himself with words like these, which is the reason why 
 I lengthen out the tale. Wherefore, I say, let a man be of 
 good cheer about his soul, who hast cast away the pleasures 
 and ornaments of the body as alien to him, and rather hurt- 
 ful in their effects, and has followed after the pleasures of 
 knowledge in this life; who has adorned the soul in her own 
 proper jewels, which are temperance, and justice, and cour- 
 age, and nobility, and truth — in these arrayed she is ready 
 to go on her journey to the world below, when her time 
 comes. You, Simmias and Cebes, and all other men, will 
 depart at some time or other. Me already, as the tragic 
 poet would say, the voice of fate calls. Soon I must drink 
 the poison; and I think that I had better repair to the bath 
 first, in order that the women may not have the trouble of 
 washing my body after I am dead. 
 
 When he had done speaking, Crito said : And have you any 
 commands for us, Socrates — anything to say ^bout your 
 children, or any other matter in v/hich we can serve you? 
 
 Nothing particular, he said: only, as I have always told 
 you, I would have you to look to yourselves ; that is a service 
 which you may always be doing to me and mine as well as 
 to yourselves. And you need not make professions; for if 
 you take no thought for yourselves, and walk not according 
 to the precepts v/hich I have given you, not now for the first 
 time, the warmth of your professions will be of no avail. 
 
 We will do our best, said Crito. But in what way would 
 you have us bury you? 
 
 In any ,way that you like ; only you must get hold of me. 
 
112 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 and take care that I do not walk away from you. Then he 
 turned to us, and added with a smile: I cannot make Crito 
 believe that I am the same Socrates who have been talking 
 and conducting the argument ; he fancies that I am the other 
 Socrates whom he will soon see, a dead body—and he asks, 
 How shall he bury me? And though I have spoken many 
 words in the endeavor to show that when I have drunk the 
 poison I shall leave you and go to the joys of the blessed — 
 these word^ of mine, with which I comforted you and myself, 
 have had, I perceive, no effect upon Crito. And therefore 
 I want you to be surety for me now, as he was surety for 
 me at the trial: but let the promise be of another sort; for 
 he was my surety to the judges that I would remain, but 
 you must be my surety to him that I shall not remain, but 
 go away and depart; and then he will suffer less at my 
 death, and not be grieved when he sees my body being 
 burned or buried. I would not have him sorrow at my hard 
 lot, or say at the burial. Thus we lay out Socrates, or, Thus 
 ,we follow him to the grave or bury him ; for false words are 
 not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with 
 evil. Be of good cheer, then, my dear Crito, and say that 
 you are burying my body only, and do with that as is usual, 
 and as you think best. 
 
 When he had spoken these words, he arose and went into 
 the bath chamber with Crito, who bade us wait; and we 
 waited, talking and thinking of the subject of discourse, and 
 also of the greatness of our sorrow; he was like a father of 
 whom we were being bereaved, and we were about to pass the 
 rest of our lives as orphans. When he had taken the bath his 
 children were brought to him — (he had two young sons and 
 an elder one) ; and the women of his family also came, and 
 he talked to them and gave them a few directions in the pres- 
 ence of Crito ; and he then dismissed them and returned to us. 
 
 Now the hour of sunset was near, for a good deal of time 
 had passed while he was within. When he came out, he sat 
 down with us again after his bath, but not much was said. 
 Soon the jailer, who was the servant of the Eleven, entered 
 and stood by him, saying: To you, Socrates, whom I know 
 to be the noblest and gentlest and best of all who ever came 
 to this place, I will not impute the angry feelings of other 
 men, who rage and swear at me when, in obedience to the 
 
PHiEDO 113 
 
 authorities, I bid them drink the poison— indeed I am sure 
 that you will not be angry with me ; for others, as you are 
 aware, and not I, are the guilty cause. And so fare you well, 
 and try to bear lightly what must needs be ; you know my er- 
 rand. Then bursting into tears he turned away and went out. 
 
 Socrates looked at him and said: I return your good 
 wishes, and will do as you bid. Then, turning to us, he said. 
 How charming the man is: since I have been in prison he 
 has always been coming to see me, and at times he would 
 talk to me, and was as good as could be to me, and now see 
 how generously he sorrows for me. But we must do as he 
 says, Crito ; let the cup be brought, if the poison is prepared : 
 if not, let the attendant prepare some. 
 
 Yet, said Crito, the sun is still upon the hilltops, and many 
 Sf one has taken the draught late, and after the announcement 
 has been made to him, he has eaten and drunk, and indulged 
 in sensual delights ; do not hasten, then, there is still time. 
 
 Socrates said: Yes, Crito, and they of whom you speak 
 are right in doing thus, for they think that they will gain 
 by the delay; but I am right in not doing thus, for I do not 
 think that I should gain anything by drinking the poison a 
 little later; I should be sparing and saving a life which is 
 already gone : I could only laugh at myself for this. Please 
 then to do as I say, and not refuse me. 
 
 Crito, when he heard this, made a sign to the servant, and 
 the servant went in, and remained for some time, and then 
 returned with the jailer carrying a cup of poison. Socrates 
 said: You, my good friend, who are experienced in these 
 matters, shall give me directions how I am to proceed. The 
 man answered : You have only to walk about until your legs 
 are heavy, and then to lie down, and the poison will act 
 At the same time he handed the cup to Socrates, who in the 
 easiest and gentlest manner, without the least fear or change 
 of color or feature, looking at the man with all his eyes, 
 Echecrates, as his manner was, took the cup and said: 
 What do you say about making a libation out of this cup to 
 any god? May I, or not? The man answered: We only 
 prepare, Socrates, just so much as we deem enough. I un- 
 derstand, he said: yet I may and must pray to the gods to 
 prosper my journey from this to that other world — may 
 this, then, which is my prayer, be granted to me, Thea 
 
114 DIALOGUES OF PLATO 
 
 holding the cup to his lips, quite readily and cheerfully he 
 drank off the poison. And hitherto most of us had been able 
 to control our sorrow ; but now when we saw hfm drinking, 
 and saw too that he had finished the draught, we could no 
 longer forbear, and in spite of myself my own tears were 
 flowing fast; so that I covered my face and wept over 
 myself, for certainly I was not weeping over him, but at the 
 thought of my own calamity in having lost such a com- 
 panion. Nor was I the first, for Crito, when he found him- 
 self unable to restrain his tears, had got up and moved away, 
 and I followed; and at that moment, Apollodorus, who had 
 been weeping all the time, broke out in a loud cry which 
 made cowards of us all. Socrates alone retained his calm- 
 ness : What is this strange outcry ? he said. I sent away the 
 women mainly in order that they might not offend in this 
 way, for I have heard that a man should die in peace. Be 
 quiet, then, and have patience. 
 
 When we heard that, we were ashamed, and refrained our 
 tears; and he walked about until, as he said, his legs began 
 to fail, and then he lay on his back, according to the direc- 
 tions, and the man who gave him the poison now and then 
 looked at his feet and legs ; and after a while he pressed his 
 foot hard and asked him. if he could feel; and he said, no^ 
 and then his leg, and so upwards and upwards, and 
 showed us that he was cold and stiff. And he felt 
 them himself, and said: When the poison reaches the 
 heart, that will be the end. He was beginning to grow 
 cold about the groin, when he uncovered his face, for 
 he had covered himself up, and said (they were his 
 last words) — he said: Crito, I owe a cock to Asclepius; 
 will you remember to pay the debt ? The debt shall be paid, 
 said Crito; is there anything else? There was no answer 
 to this question; but in a minute or two a movement was 
 heard, and the attendants uncovered him; his eyes were set, 
 and Crito closed his eyes and mouth. 
 
 Such was the end, Echecrates, of our friend, whom I may 
 truly call the wisest, and justest, and best of all the men 
 whom I have ever known. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS 
 OF EPICTETUS 
 
 TRANSLATED AND ARRANGED 
 BY 
 
 HASTINGS CROSSLEY, M.A, 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 Epictetus was a Greek, horn at Hierapolis in Phrygia, probably 
 about the middle of the first century, A. D. His early history is 
 unknown till we find him in Rome, the slave of Epaphroditus, a 
 freedman of Nero's. The lameness, which is the only physical 
 characteristic of his recorded, was, according to one tradition^ 
 due to tortures inflicted by his master. He seems to have become 
 acquainted with the principles of the Stoic philosophy through the 
 lectures of C. Musonim Rufus; and after his emancipation he 
 •became a teacher of that system in Rome. When the Emperor 
 'Domitian banished all philosophers from Italy about go A. D.j 
 Epictetus went to Nicopolis in Epirus, where he continued his 
 teaching. He left nothing in writing, and for a knowledge of his 
 utterances we are indebted to his disciple, the Greek philosopher 
 and historian Arrian, who compiled from his master's lectures and 
 conversations the "Discourses and Encheiridion," from which 
 the "Golden Sayings" are drawn. The date and circumstances 
 of his death are unknown. 
 
 Epictetus is a main authority on Stoic morals. The points on 
 which he laid chief stress were the importance of cultivating com- 
 plete independence of external circumstances, the realisation that 
 man must find happiness within himself, and the duty of rev* 
 erencing the voice of Reason in the soul. Few teachers of morals 
 in any age are so bracing and invigorating ; and the tonic quality 
 of his utterances has been recognized ever since his own day by 
 Pagan and Christian alike. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYI 
 
 OF EPICTETUS 
 
 X 
 
 RE these the only works of providence in us? What 
 words suffice to praise or set them forth ? Had we but 
 understanding, should we ever cease hymning and 
 blessing the Divine Power, both openly and in secret, and 
 telling of His gracious gifts ? Whether digging or ploughing 
 or eating, should we not sing the hymn to God: — 
 
 Great is God, for that He has given us such instruments to till the 
 ground withal : 
 
 Great is God, for that He hath given us hands, and the power of 
 swallowing and digesting; of unconsciously growing and breath- 
 ing while we sleep ! 
 
 Thus should we ever have sung : yea and this, the grandest 
 and divinest hymn of all : — 
 
 Great is God, for that He hath given us a mind to apprehend these 
 things, and duly to use them i 
 
 What then ! seeing that most of you are blinded, should 
 there not be some one to fill this place, and sing the hymn 
 to God on behalf of all men? What else can I that am old 
 and lame do but sing to God? Were I a nightingale, I 
 should do after the manner of a nightingale. Were I a swan, 
 I should do after the manner of a swan. But now, since I 
 am a reasonable being, I must sing to God : that is ray work : 
 I do it, nor will I desert this my post, as long as it is granted 
 me to hold it; and upon you too I call to join in this self- 
 same hymn. 
 
 117 
 
118 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 II 
 
 How then do men act? As though one returning to his 
 country who had sojourned for the night in a fair inn, should 
 be so captivated thereby as to take up his abode there. 
 
 " Friend, thou hast forgotten thine intention ! This was 
 not thy destination, but only lay on the way thither." 
 
 " Nay, but it is a proper place." 
 
 " And how many more of the sort there be ; only to pass 
 through upon thy way 1 Thy purpose was to return to thy 
 country; to relieve thy kinsmen's fears for thee; thyself to 
 discharge the duties of a citizen ; to marry a wife, to beget 
 offspring, and to fill the appointed round of office. Thou 
 didst not come to choose out what places are most pleasant; 
 but rather to return to that wherein thou wast born and 
 where thou wert appointed to be a citizen." 
 
 Ill 
 
 Try to enjoy the great festival of life with other men. 
 
 IV 
 
 But I have one whom I must please, to whom I must be 
 subject, whom I must obey: — God, and those who come next 
 to Him.^ He hath entrusted m^e with myself : He hath made 
 my will subject to myself alone and given me rules for the 
 right use thereof. 
 
 V 
 
 Rufus^ used to say, // you have leisure to praise me, what 
 tway is naught. In truth he spoke in such wise, that each of 
 us v/ho sat there, thought that some one had accused him to 
 Bufus : — so surely did he lay his fimger on the very deeds we 
 did : so surely display the faults of each before his very eyes. 
 
 VI 
 
 But what saith God? — "Had it been possible, Epictetus, I 
 would have made both that body of thine and thy possessions 
 free and unimpeded, but as it is, be not deceived: — it is not 
 thine own; it is but finely tempered clay. Since then this 
 I could not do, I have given thee a portion of Myself, in the 
 
 ^ I. e., " good and just men." •c^-.i^tj 
 
 2 C. Musonius Rufus, a Stoic philosopher, whose lectures Epictetus had 
 attended. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 119 
 
 power of desiring and declining and of pursuing and avoid- 
 ing, and in a word the power of dealing with the things of 
 sense. And if thou neglect not this, but place all that thou 
 hast therein, thou shalt' never be let or hindered ; thou shalt 
 never lament; thou shalt not blame or flatter any. What 
 then? Seemeth this to thee a little thing?/' — God forbid! — ? 
 "Be content then therewith ! " 
 And so I pray the Gods. 
 
 VII 
 
 What saith Antisthenes?' Hast thou never heard? — - 
 It is a kingly thing, O Cyrus, to do well and to be evil 
 spoken of. 
 
 VIII 
 
 " Ay, but to debase myself thus were unworthy of me." 
 " That," said Epictetus, " is for you to consider, not for 
 me. You know yourself what you are worth in your own 
 eyes ; and at what price you will sell yourself. For men sell 
 themselves at various prices. This was why, when Florus 
 was deliberating whether he should appear at Nero's shows, 
 taking part in the performance himself, Agrippinus replied, 
 * Appear by all means.' And when Florus inquired, * But why 
 do not you appear?' he answered, 'Because I do not even 
 consider the question.' For the man who has once stooped to 
 consider such questions, and to reckon up the value of ex- 
 ternal things, is not far from forgetting what manner of 
 man he is. "Why, what is it that you ask me? Is death 
 preferable, or life ? I reply, Life. Pain or pleasure ? I re- 
 ply, Pleasure." 
 
 " Well, but if I do not act, I shall lose my head." 
 " Then go and act ! But for my part I will not act." 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you think yourself but one among the many 
 threads which make up the texture of the doublet. You 
 should aim at being like men in general — just as your thread 
 has no ambition either to be anything distinguished compared 
 with the other threads. But I desire to be the purple — that 
 small and shining part which makes the rest seem fair and 
 beautiful. Why then do you bid me become even as the 
 multitude? Then were I no longer the purple." 
 
 * The founder of the Cynic school of philosophy. 
 
120 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EFICTETUS 
 
 IX 
 
 If a man could be thoroughly penetrated, as he ought, with 
 this thought, that we are all in an especial manner sprung 
 from God, and that God is the Father of men as well as of 
 Gods, full surely he would never conceive aught ignoble or 
 base of himself. Whereas if Cs'sar were to adopt you, your 
 haughty looks would be intolerable ; will you not be elated at 
 knowing that you are the son of God? Now however it is 
 not so with us : but seeing that in our birth these two things 
 are commingled — the body which we share with the animals, 
 and the Reason and Thought which we share with the Gods, 
 many decline tov/ards this unhappy kinship with the dead, 
 few rise to the blessed kinship with the Divine. Since then 
 every one must deal with each thing according to the view 
 which he forms about it, those few who hold that they are 
 born for fidelity, modesty, and unerring sureness in dealing 
 with the things of sense, never conceive aught base or ignoble 
 of themselves : but the multitude the contrary. "VVhy, what 
 am I? — A wretched human creature; with this miserable 
 flesh of mine. Miserable indeed ! but you have something 
 better than that paltry flesh of yours. Why then cling to the 
 one, and neglect the other? 
 
 X 
 
 Thou art but a poor soul laden with a lifeless body. 
 
 XI 
 
 The other day I had an iron lamp placed beside my house- 
 hold gods. I heard a noise at the door and on hastening 
 down found my lamp carried off. I reflected that the culprit 
 was in no very strange case. " To-morrow, my friend," I 
 said, " you will find an earthenware lamp ; for a man can 
 only lose what he has." 
 
 XII 
 
 The reason why I lost my lamp was that the thief was 
 superior to me in vigilance. He paid however this price for 
 the lamp, that in exchange for it he consented to become a 
 thief : in exchange for it, to become faithless. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 121 
 
 XIII 
 
 But God hath introduced Man to be a spectator of Himself 
 and of His works; and not a spectator only, but also an in- 
 terpreter of them. Wherefore it is a shame for man to begin 
 and to leave off where the brutes do. Rather he should begin 
 there, and leave off where Nature leaves off in us : and that 
 is at contemplation, and understanding, and a manner of life 
 that is in harmony with herself. 
 
 See then that ye die not without being spectators of these 
 things. 
 
 XIV 
 
 You journey to Olympia to see the work of Phidias; and 
 each of you holds it a misfortune not to have beheld these 
 things before you die. Whereas when there is no need even 
 to take a journey, but you are on the spot, with the works 
 before you, have you no care to contemplate and study these ? 
 
 Will you not then perceive either who you are or unto what 
 end you were born: or for what purpose the power of con- 
 templation has been bestowed upon you? 
 
 " Well, but in life there are some things disagreeable and 
 hard to bear." 
 
 And are there none at Olympia ? Are you not scorched by 
 the heat? Are you not cramped for room? Have you not 
 to bathe with discomfort? Are you not drenched when it 
 rains? Have you not to endure the clamour and shouting 
 and such annoyances as these? Well, I suppose you set all 
 this over against the splendour of the spectacle, and bear it 
 patiently. What then? have you not received powers where- 
 with to endure all that comes to pass ? have you not received 
 greatness of heart, received courage, received fortitude? 
 What care I, if I am great of heart, for aught that can come 
 to pass ? What shall cast me down or disturb me ? What shall 
 seem painful? Shall I not use the power to the end for 
 which I received it, instead of moaning and wailing over 
 what comes to pass? 
 
 XV 
 
 If what philosophers say of the kinship of God and Men 
 be true what remains for men to do but as Socrates did: — 
 
122 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 never, when asked one's country, to answer, " I am an 
 Athenian or a Corinthian," but " I am a citizen of the world." 
 
 XVI 
 
 He that hath grasped the administration of the World, who 
 hath learned that this Community, which consists of God and 
 men, is the foremost and mightiest and most comprehensive 
 of all: — that from God have descended the germs of life, 
 not to my father only and father's father, but to all things 
 that are born and grow upon the earth, and in an especial 
 manner to those endowed with Reason (for those only are 
 by their nature fitted to hold communion with God, being by 
 means of Reason conjoined with Him) — why should not 
 such an one call himself a citizen of the world? Why not a 
 son of God? Why should he fear aught that comes to pass 
 among men? Shall kinship with Csesar, or any other of the 
 great at Rome, be enough to hedge men around Vv^ith safety 
 and consideration, without a thought of apprehension: while 
 to have God for our Maker, and Father, and Kinsman, shall 
 not this set us free from sorrows and fears? 
 
 XVII 
 
 I do not think that an old fellow like me need have been 
 sitting here to try and prevent your entertaining abject 
 notions of yourselves, and talking of yourselves in an abject 
 and ignoble way : but to prevent there being by chance among 
 you any such young men as, after recognising their kindred 
 to the Gods, and their bondage in these chains of the body 
 and its manifold necessities, should desire to cast them off as 
 burdens too grievous to be borne, and depart to their true 
 kindred. This is the struggle in which your Master and 
 Teacher, were he worthy of the name, should be engaged. 
 You would come to me and say: " Epictetus, we can no 
 longer endure being chained to this wretched body, giving 
 it food and drink and rest and purification; aye, and for its 
 sake forced to be subservient to this man and that. Are 
 not these things indifferent and nothing to us? Is it not 
 true that death is no evil ? Are we not in a manner kinsmen 
 of the Gods, and have we not come from them? Let us 
 depart thither, whence we came : let us be freed from these 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTSTUS 123 
 
 chains that confine and press us down. Here are thieves 
 and robbers and tribunals: and they that are called tyrants, 
 who deem that they have after a fashion power over us, be- 
 cause of the miserable body and what appertains to it. Let 
 us show them that they have power over none." 
 
 XVIII 
 
 And to this I reply: — 
 
 "Friends, wait for God. When He gives the signal, and 
 releases you from this service, then depart to Him. But for 
 the present, endure to dv/ell in the place wherein He hath 
 assigned you your post. Short indeed is the time of your 
 habitation therein, and easy to those that are thus minded. 
 What tyrant, what robber, what tribunals have any terrors 
 for those who thus esteem the body and all that belong to it 
 as of no account ? Stay ; depart not rashly hence ! " 
 
 XIX 
 
 Something like that is what should pass between a teacher 
 and ingenuous youths. As it is, what does pass? The 
 teacher is a lifeless body, and you are lifeless bodies your- 
 selves. When you have had enough to eat to-day, you sit 
 down and weep about to-morrow's food. Slave ! if you have 
 it, well and good ; if not, you will depart : the door is open — 
 why lament ? What further room is there for tears ? What 
 further occasion for flattery? Why should one envy an- 
 other? Why should you stand in awe of them that have 
 much or are placed in power, especially if they be also 
 strong and passionate? Why, what should they do to us? 
 What they can do, we will not regard: what does concern 
 us, that they cannot do. Who then shall still rule one that 
 is thus minded? 
 
 XX 
 
 Seeing this then, and noting well the faculties which you 
 have, you should say, — " Send now, O God, any trial that 
 Thou wilt; lo, I have means and powers given me by Thee 
 to acquit myself with honour through whatever comes to 
 pass ! " — No ; but there you sit, trembling for fear certain 
 things should come to pass, and moaning and groaning and 
 lamenting over v^^hat does come to pass. And then you up- 
 
124 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 braid the Gods. Such meanness of spirit can have but one 
 result — impiety. 
 
 Yet God has not only given us these faculties by means 
 of which we may bear everything that comes to pass without 
 being crushed or depressed thereby; but like a good King 
 and Father, He has given us this without let or hindrance, 
 placed wholly at our own disposition, without reserving to 
 Himself any power of impediment or restraint. Though 
 possessing all these things free and all your own, you do 
 not use them ! you do not perceive what it is you have re- 
 ceived nor whence it comes, but sit moaning and groaning; 
 some of you blind to the Giver, making no acknowledgment 
 to your Benefactor ; others basely giving themselves to com- 
 plaints and accusations against God. 
 
 Yet what faculties and powers you possess for attaining 
 courage and greatness of heart, I can easily show you ; what 
 you have for upbraiding and accusation, it is for you to 
 show me ! 
 
 XXI 
 
 How did Socrates bear himself in this regard ? How else 
 than as became one who was fully assured that he was the 
 kinsman of the Gods? 
 
 XXII 
 
 If God had made that part of His own nature which He 
 severed from Himself and gave to us, liable to be hindered 
 or constrained either by Himself or any other. He would not 
 have been God, nor would He have been taking care of us 
 as He ought. . . . H you choose, you are free; if you 
 choose, you need blame no man — accuse no man. Ail things 
 will be at once according to your mind and according to the 
 Mind of God. 
 
 XXIII 
 
 Petrifaction is of two sorts. There is petrifaction of the 
 understanding; and also of the sense of shame. This hap- 
 pens when a man obstinately refuses to acknowledge plain 
 truths, and persists in maintaining what is self-contradictory. 
 Most of us dread mortification of the body, and would spare 
 no pains to escape anything of that kind. But of mortification 
 of the soul we are utterly heedless. With regard, indeed, to 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 125 
 
 the soul, if a man is in such a state as to be incapable of 
 following or understanding anything, I grant you we do 
 think him in a bad way. But mortification of the sense of 
 shame and modesty we go so far as to dub strength of mind ! 
 
 XXIV 
 
 If we were as intent upon our own business as the old 
 fellows at Rome are upon what interests them, we too might 
 perhaps accomplish something. I know a man older than 
 I am, now Superintendent of the Corn-market at Rome, and 
 I remember when he passed through this place on his way 
 back from exile, what an account he gave me of his former 
 life, declaring that for the future, once home again, his 
 only care should be to pass his remaining years in quiet 
 and tranquillity. " For how few years have I left ! " he cried. 
 " That," I said, " you will not do ; but the moment the scent 
 of Rome is in your nostrils, you will forget it all ; and if you 
 can but gain admission to Court, you will be glad enough to 
 elbow your way in, and thank God for it." " Epictetus," he 
 replied, " if ever you find me setting as much as one foot 
 within the Court, think what you will of me." 
 
 Well, as it was, what did he do ? Ere ever he entered the 
 city, he was met by a despatch from the Emperor. He took 
 it, and forgot the whole of his resolutions. From that mo- 
 ment, he has been piling one thing upon another. I should 
 like to be beside him to remind him of what he said when 
 passing this way, and to add. How much better a prophet 
 I am than you ! 
 
 What then? do I say man is not made for an active life? 
 Far from it! . . . But there is a great difference between 
 other men's occupations and ours. ... A glance at theirs 
 will make it clear to you. All day long they do nothing 
 but calculate, contrive, consult how to wring their profit out 
 of food-stuffs, farm-plots and the like. . . . Whereas, I en- 
 treat you to learn what the administration of the World is, 
 and what place a Being endowed with reason holds therein : 
 to consider what you are yourself, and wherein your Good 
 and Evil consists. 
 
126 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 XXV 
 
 A man asked me to write to Rome on his behalf who, as 
 most people thought, had met with misfortune; for having 
 been before wealthy and distinguished, he had afterwards 
 lost all and was living here. So I wrote about him in a 
 humble style. He however on reading the letter returned 
 it to me, with the words : " I asked for your help, not for 
 your pity. No evil has happened unto me." 
 
 XXVI 
 
 True instruction is this : — to learn to wish that each thing 
 should come to pass as it does. And how does it come to 
 pass? As the Disposer has disposed it. Now He has dis- 
 posed that there should be summer and winter, and plenty 
 and dearth, and vice and virtue, and all such opposites, for 
 the harmony of the whole. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 Have this thought ever present with thee, when thou 
 losest any outward thing, what thou gainest in its stead; 
 and if this be the more precious, say not, I have suffered loss. 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 Concerning the Gods, there are who deny the very ex- 
 istence of the Godhead; others say that it exists, but neither 
 bestirs nor concerns itself nor has forethought for anything. 
 A third party attribute to it existence and forethought, but 
 only for great and heavenly matters, not for anything that 
 is on earth. A fourth party admit things on earth as well 
 as in heaven, but only in general, and not with respect to 
 each individual. A fifth, of whom were Ulysses and Soc- 
 rates, are those that cry: — 
 
 / move not without Thy knowledge ! 
 
 XXIX 
 
 Considering all these things, the good and true man sub- 
 mits his judgment to Him that administers the Universe, 
 even as good citizens to the law of the State. And he that 
 Is being instructed should come thus minded:-— How may 
 I in all things follow the Gods ; and, How may I rest satis- 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 127 
 
 fied with the Divine Administration; and, How may I be- 
 come free? For he is free for whom all things come to 
 pass according to his will, and whom none can hinder. What 
 then, is freedom madness? God forbid. For madness and 
 freedom exist not together. 
 
 " But I wish all that I desire to com.e to pass and in the 
 manner that I desire." 
 
 — You are mad, you are beside yourself. Know you not 
 that Freedom is a glorious thing and of great worth? But 
 that what I desired at random I should wish at random to 
 come to pass, so far from being noble, may well be exceeding 
 base. 
 
 XXX 
 
 You must know that it is no easy thing for a principle 
 to becom^e a man's own, unless each day he maintain it and 
 hear it maintained, as well as work it out in life. 
 
 XXXI 
 
 You are impatient and hard to please. If alone, you call it 
 solitude: if in the company of men, you dub them conspira- 
 tors and thieves, and find fault with 3^our very parents, chil- 
 dren, brothers and neighbours. Whereas when by yourself 
 you should have called it Tranquillity and Freedom: and 
 herein deemed yourself like unto the Gods. And when in 
 the company of the many, you should not have called it a 
 wearisome crowd and tumult, but an assembly and a tri- 
 bunal; and thus accepted all with contentment. 
 
 XXXII 
 
 What then is the chastisement of those wHo accept it not? 
 To be as they are. Is any discontented with being alone? 
 let him be in solitude. Is any discontented with his parents ? 
 let him be a bad son, and lament. Is any discontented with 
 his children ? let him be a bad father. — " Throw him into 
 prison ! " — What prison ? — Where he is already : for he is 
 there against his will; and wherever a man is against his 
 v/ill, that to him is a prison. Thus Socrates was not in 
 prison, since he was there with his own consent. 
 
128 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 Knowest thou what a speck thou art in comparison with 
 the Universe ? — That is, with respect to the body ; since with 
 respect to Reason, thou art not inferior to the Gods, nor 
 less than they. For the greatness of Reason is not measured 
 by length or height, but by the resolves of the mind. Place 
 then thy happiness in that wherein thou art equal to the 
 Gods. 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 Asked how a man might eat acceptably to the Gods, 
 Epictetus replied : — If when he eats, he can be just, cheerful, 
 equable, temperate, and orderly, can he not thus eat accept- 
 ably to the Gods? But when you call for warm water, and 
 your slave does not answer, or when he answers brings it 
 luke-warm, or is not even found to be in the house at all, 
 then not to be vexed nor burst with anger, is not that accept- 
 able to the Gods? 
 
 " But how can one endure such people ? " 
 
 Slave, will you not endure your own brother, that has 
 God to his forefather, even as a son sprung from the same 
 stock, and of the same high descent as yourself? And if 
 you are stationed in a high position, are you therefore forth- 
 with to set up for a tyrant? Remember who you are, and 
 whom you rule, that they are by nature your kinsmen, your 
 brothers, the offspring of God. 
 
 " But I paid a price for them, not they for me." 
 
 Do you see whither you are looking — down to the earth, 
 to the pit, to those despicable laws of the dead? But to 
 the laws of the Gods you do not look. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 When we are invited to a banquet we take what is set be- 
 fore us ; and were one to call upon his host to set fish upon 
 the table or sweet things, he would be deemed absurd. Yet 
 in a word, we ask the Gods for what they do not give; and 
 that, although they have given us so many things ! 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 129 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 Asked how a man might convince himself that every 
 single act of his was under the eye of God, Epictetus an- 
 swered: — 
 
 " Do you not hold that all things are bound together in 
 one?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Well, and do you not hold that things on earth and 
 things in heaven are continuous and in unison with each 
 other?" 
 
 " I do," was the reply. 
 
 " Else how should the trees so regularly, as though by 
 God's command, at His bidding flower; at His bidding send 
 forth shoots, bear fruit and ripen it; at His bidding let it 
 fall and shed their leaves, and folded up upon themselves lie 
 in quietness and rest? How else, as the Moon waxes and 
 wanes, as the Sun approaches and recedes, can it be that 
 such vicissitude and alternation is seen in earthly things? 
 
 " If then all things that grow, nay our own bodies are thus 
 bound up with the whole, is not this still truer of our souls? 
 And if our souls are bound up and in contact with God, as 
 being very parts and fragments plucked from Himself, shall 
 He not feel every movement of theirs as though it ,were His 
 own, and belonging to His own nature ? " 
 
 xxxvii 
 " But," you say, " I cannot comprehend all this at once." 
 " Why, who told you that your powers were equal to 
 God's?" 
 
 Yet God hath placed by the side of each a man's own 
 Guardian Spirit,* who is charged to watch over him — a 
 Guardian who sleeps not nor is deceived. For to what better 
 or more watchful Guardian could He have committed each 
 of us? So when you have shut the doors and made a dark- 
 ness within, remember never to say that you are alone; for 
 you are not alone, but God is within, and your Guardian 
 Spirit, and what light do they need to behold what you do? 
 To this God you also should have sworn allegiance, even as 
 soldiers unto Caesar. They when their service is hired, swear 
 
 *To the Stoics the Guardian Spirit was each man's Reason. 
 
 5 HC— Vol. 2 
 
130 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPiCTETUS 
 
 to hold the life of Caesar dearer than all else : and \¥ill you 
 not sv/ear your oath, that are deemed worthy of so many and 
 great gifts? And will you not keep your oath when you 
 have sworn it? And what oath will you swear? Never to 
 disobey, never to arraign or murmur at aught that comes to 
 you from His hand: never unwillingly to do or suffer aught 
 that necessity lays upon you. 
 
 " Is this oath like theirs ? " 
 
 They sv/ear to hold no other dearer than Caesar: you, to 
 hold our true selves dearer than all else beside. 
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 " How shall my brother cease to be wroth with me ? " 
 Bring to him to me, and I will tell him. But to thee I 
 have nothing to say about his anger. 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 "When one took counsel of Epictetus, saying, " What I seek 
 is this, how even though my brother be not reconciled to 
 me, I may still remain as Nature would have me to be," 
 he replied: "All great things are slow of grov/th; nay, 
 this is true even of a grape or of a fig. If then you say 
 to me now, I desire a fig, I shall answer. It needs time : wait 
 till it first flower, then cast its blossom, then ripen. Whereas 
 then the fruit of the fig-tree reaches not maturity suddenly 
 nor yet in a single hour, do you nevertheless desire so 
 quickly and easily to reap the fruit of the mind of m.an? — 
 Nay, expect it not, even though I bade you 1 " 
 
 XL 
 
 Epaphroditus^ had a shoemaker whom he sold as being 
 good-for-nothing. This fellow, by some accident, was after- 
 wards purchased by one of Csesar's men, and became shoe- 
 maker to Csesar. You should have seen what respect Epaph- 
 roditus paid him then. " How does the good Felicion ? 
 Kindly let me know ! " A^nd if any of us inquired, " What 
 is Epaphroditus doing?" the answer was, "He is consulting 
 about so and so with Felicion." — Had he not sold him as 
 good-for-nothing? Who had in a trice converted him into 
 a wiseacre? 
 
 ^A freedman of Nero, and at one time owner of Epictetus. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 131 
 
 This is what comes of holding of importance anything but 
 the things that depend on the Will. 
 
 XLI 
 
 What you shun enduring yourself, attempt not to impose 
 on others. You shun slavery — beware of enslaving others ! 
 If you can endure to do that, one would think you had been 
 once upon a time a slave yourself. For Vice has nothing 
 in common with virtue, nor Freedom with slavery. 
 
 XLII 
 
 Has a man been raised to the tribuneship? Every one 
 that he meets congratulates him. One kisses him on the 
 eyes, another on the neck, while the slaves kiss his hands. 
 He goes home to find torches burning; he ascends to the 
 Capitol to sacrifice — Who ever sacrificed for having had 
 right desires ; for having conceived such inclinations as 
 Nature would have him? In truth we thank the Gods for 
 that wherein yvQ place our happiness. 
 
 XLIII 
 
 A man was talking to me to-day about the priesthood of 
 Augustus. I said to him, " Let the thing go, my good Sir ; 
 you will spend a great deal to no purpose." 
 
 " Well, but my name will be inserted in all documents 
 and contracts." 
 
 " Will you be standing there to tell those that read them, 
 That is my name written there ? And even though you could 
 now be there in every case, what will you do when you are 
 dead?" 
 
 " At all events my name w^ill remain." 
 
 " Inscribe it on a stone and it will remain just as well. 
 And think, beyond Nicopolis what memory of you will there 
 be?" 
 
 " But I shall have a golden wreath to wear." 
 
 " If you must have a wreath, get a wreath of roses and 
 put it on ; you will look more elegant ! " 
 
 XLIV 
 
 Above all, remember that the door stands open. Be not 
 more fearful than children; but as they, when they weary 
 
132 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 of the game, cry, " I will play no more," even so, when thou 
 art in the like case, cry, " I will play no morp "' and depart. 
 But if thou stayest, make no lamentation. 
 
 XLV 
 
 Is there smoke in the room? If it be slight, I remain; if 
 grievous, I quit it. For you must remember this and hold 
 it fast, that the door stands open. 
 
 " You shall not dwell at Nicopolis ! " 
 
 Well and good. 
 
 "Nor at Athens." 
 
 Then I will not dwell at Athens either. 
 
 " Nor at Rome." 
 
 Nor at Rome either. 
 
 " You shall dwell in Gyara ! " ' 
 
 Well: but to dwell in Gyara seems to me like a grievous 
 smoke; I depart to a place where none can forbid me to 
 dwell : that habitation is open unto all ! As for the last gar- 
 ment of all, that is the poor body ; beyond that, none can do 
 aught unto me. This is why Demetrius' said to Nero : " You 
 threaten me with death ; it is Nature who threatens you ! " 
 
 XLVI 
 
 The beginning of philosophy is to know the condition of 
 one's own mind. If a man recognises that this is in a weakly 
 state, he will not then want to apply it to questions of the 
 greatest moment. As it is, men who are not fit to swallow 
 even a morsel, buy whole treatises and try to devour them. 
 Accordingly they either vomit them up again, or suffer from 
 indigestion, whence come gripings, fluxions, and fevers. 
 Whereas they should have stopped to consider their 
 capacity. 
 
 XLVII 
 
 In theory it is easy to convince an ignorant person: in 
 actual life, men not only object to offer themselves to be 
 convinced, but hate the man who has convinced them. 
 Whereas Socrates used to say that we should never lead a 
 life not subjected to examination. 
 
 6 An island in the ^gean, used as a place of banishment. 
 ''A well-known Cynic philosopher. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 133 
 
 XLVIII 
 
 This is the reason why Socrates, when reminded that he 
 should prepare for his trial, answered : " Thinkest thou not 
 that I have been preparing for it all my life ? " 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " I have maintained that which in me lay." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " I have never, secretly or openly, done a wrong unto any." 
 
 XLIX 
 
 In what character dost thou now come forward? 
 
 As a witness summoned by God, " Come thou," saith 
 God, " and testify for me, for thou art v/orthy of being 
 brought forward as a witness by Me. Is aught that is 
 outside thy will either good or bad ? Do I hurt any man ? 
 Have I placed the good of each in the power of any other 
 than himself ? What witness dost thou bear to God ? " 
 
 " I am in evil state. Master, I am undone ! None careth 
 for me, none giveth me aught: all men blame, all speak 
 evil of me." 
 
 Is this the witness thou wilt bear, and do dishonour to 
 the calling wherewith He hath called thee, because He hath 
 done thee so great honour, and deemed thee worthy of 
 being summoned to bear witness in so great a cause? 
 
 L 
 
 Wouldst thou have men speak good of thee? speak good 
 of them. And when thou hast learned to speak good of 
 them, try to do good unto them, and thus thou wilt reap 
 in return their speaking good of thee. 
 
 LI 
 
 When thou goest in to any of the great, remember that 
 Another from above sees what is passing, and that thou 
 shouldst please Him rather than man. He therefore asks 
 thee : — 
 
 " In the Schools, what didst thou call exile, imprisonment, 
 bonds, death and shame ? " 
 
 " I called them things indifferent." 
 
 " What then dost thou call them now ? Are they at all 
 changed ? " 
 
134 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Is it then thou that art changed? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Say then, what are things indifferent ? " 
 
 " Things that are not in our power." 
 
 " Say then, what follows ? " 
 
 " That things which are not in our power are nothing 
 to me." 
 
 " Say also what things you hold to be good." 
 
 " A will such as it ought to be, and a right use of the 
 things of sense." 
 
 " And what is the end ? " 
 
 " To follow Thee I " 
 
 LII 
 
 " That Socrates should ever have been so treated by the 
 Athenians ! " 
 
 Slave ! why say " Socrates " ? Speak of the thing as it is : 
 That ever then the poor body of Socrates should have been 
 dragged away and haled by main force to prison ! That 
 ever hemlock should have been given to the body of Socrates ; 
 that that should have breathed its life away ! — Do you marvel 
 at this? Do you hold this unjust? Is it for this that you 
 accuse God ? Had Socrates no compensation for this ? Where 
 then for him was the ideal Good? Whom shall we hearken 
 to, you or him? And what says he? 
 
 " Anytus and Melitus® may put me to death: to injure me 
 is beyond their pov/er." 
 
 And again : — 
 
 " If such be the will of God, so let it be." 
 
 LIII 
 
 Nay, young man, for heaven's sake; but once thou hast 
 heard these words, go home and say to thyself : — '* It is 
 not Epictetus that has told me these things: how indeed 
 should he? No, it is some gracious God through him. Else 
 it would never have entered his head to tell me them — he 
 that is not used to speak to any one thus. Well, then, let 
 us not lie under the wrath of God, but be obedient unto Him." 
 — Nay, indeed ; but if a raven by its croaking bears thee any 
 
 8 The accusers of Socrates. See Plato's Apology. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 135 
 
 sign, it is not the raven but God that sends the sign through 
 the raven ; and if He signifies anything to thee through human 
 voice, will He not cause the man to say these words to thee, 
 that thou mayest know the power of the Divine — ^how He sends 
 a sign to some in one v/ay and to others in another, and on 
 the greatest and highest matters of all signifies His will 
 through the noblest messenger? 
 What else does the poet mean: — 
 
 I spake unto him erst Myself, and sent 
 
 Hermes the shining One, to check and warn him, 
 
 The husband not to slay, nor woo the wife ! 
 
 "' . . . V 
 
 In the same way my friend Heraclitus, who had a triflmg 
 
 suit about a petty farm at Rhodes, first showed the judges 
 that his cause v/as just, and then at the finish cried, "I will 
 not entreat you: nor do I care what sentence you pass. It 
 is you who are on your trial, not I ! " — ^And so he ended the 
 
 case." 
 
 LV 
 
 As for us, we behave like a herd of deer. When they flee 
 from the huntsman's feathers^" in affright, which way do they 
 turn? What haven of safety do they make for? Why, 
 they rush upon the nets ! And thus they perish by confound- 
 ing what they should fear with that wherein no danger lies. 
 . . . Not death or pain is to be feared, but the fear of death 
 or pain. Well said the poet therefore: — 
 
 Death has no terror ; only a Death of shame ! 
 
 LVI 
 
 How is it then that certain external things are said to be 
 natural, and others contrary to Nature? 
 
 Why, just as it might be said if we stood alone and apart 
 from others. A foot, for instance, I will allow it is natural 
 should be clean. But if you take it as a foot, and as a thing 
 ':which does not stand by itself, it will beseem it (if need be) 
 to walk in the mud, to tread on thorns, and sometimes even 
 to be cut off, for the benefit of the whole body ; else it is no 
 
 ® Or, " And so he lost his case " (Long). 
 ^Colored feathers fixed to ropes partly surrounding the cover. 
 
136 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 longer a foot. In some such way we should conceive of our- 
 selves also. What art thou ? — A man. — Looked at as standing 
 by thyself and separate, it is natural for thee in health and 
 wealth long to live. But looked at as a Man, and only as a 
 part of a Whole, it is for that Whole's sake that thou shouldst 
 at one time fall sick, at another brave the perils of the sea, 
 again, know the meaning of want and perhaps die an early 
 death. Why then repine? Knowest thou not that as the 
 foot is no more a foot if detached from the body, so thou in 
 like case art no longer a Man ? For what is a Man ? A part 
 of a City: — first, of the City of Gods and Men; next, of that 
 which ranks nearest it, a miniature of the universal City. 
 ... In such a body, in such a world enveloping us, among 
 lives like these, such things must happen to one or another. 
 Thy part, then, being here, is to speak of these things as is 
 meet, and to order them as befits the matter. 
 
 LVII 
 
 That was a good reply which Diogenes made to a man 
 who asked him for letters of recommendation. — " That you 
 are a man, he will know when he sees you ; — v/hether a good 
 or bad one, he will know if he has any skill in discerning the 
 good and the bad. But if he has none, he will never know, 
 though I write to him a thousand times." — It is as though a 
 piece of silver money desired to be recommended to some one 
 to be tested. If the man be a good judge of silver, he will 
 know : the coin will tell its own tale. 
 
 LVIII 
 
 Even as the traveller asks his way of him that he meets, 
 inclined in no wise to bear to the right rather than to the 
 left (for he desires only the way leading whither he would 
 go), so should we come unto God as to a guide; even as 
 we use our eyes without admonishing them to show us some 
 things rather than others, but content to receive the images 
 of such things as they present unto us. But as it is we stand 
 anxiously watching the victim, and with the voice of sup- 
 plication call upon the augur : — " Master, have mercy on me : 
 vouchsafe unto me a way of escape ! " Slave, would you then 
 have aught else than what is best? is there anything better 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 137 
 
 than what is God's good pleasure? Why, as far as in you 
 lies, would you corrupt your Judge, and lead your Counsellor 
 astray ? 
 
 LIX 
 
 God is beneficent. But the Good also is beneficent. It 
 should seem then that where the real nature of God is, there 
 too is to be found the real nature of the Good. What then 
 is the real nature of God? — Intelligence, Knowledge, Right 
 Reason. Here then without more ado seek the real nature 
 of the Good. For surely thou dost not seek it in a plant or 
 in an animal that reasoneth not. 
 
 LX 
 
 Seek then the real nature of the Good in that without 
 whose presence thou wilt not admit the Good to exist in 
 aught else. — What then? Are not these other things also 
 v/orks of God? — They are; but not preferred to honour, nor 
 are they portions of God. But thou art a thing preferred to 
 honour: thou art thyself a fragment torn from God: — thou 
 hast a portion of Him within thyself. How is it then that 
 thou dost not know thy high descent — dost not know whence 
 thou comest? When thou eatest, wilt thou not remember 
 who thou art that eatest and whom thou feedest? In inter- 
 course, in exercise, in discussion knowest thou not that it is 
 a God whom thou feedest, a God whom thou exercisest, a 
 God whom thou bearest about with thee, O miserable ! and 
 thou perceivest it not. Thinkest thou that I speak of a God 
 of silver or gold, that is without thee? Nay, thou bearest 
 Him within thee ! all unconscious of polluting Him with 
 thoughts impure and unclean deeds. Were an image of 
 God present, thou wouldst not dare to act as thou dost, yet, 
 when God Himself is present within thee, beholding and hear- 
 ing all, thou dost not blush to think such thoughts and do 
 such deeds, O thou that art insensible of thine own nature 
 and liest tmder the wrath of God ! 
 
 LXI 
 
 Why then are we afraid when we send a young man 
 from the Schools into active life, lest he should indulge his 
 appetites intemperately, lest he should debase himself by 
 
138 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 ragged clothing, or be puffed up by fine raiment? Knows 
 he not the God within him; knows he not with whom he is 
 starting on his way? Have we patience to hear him say to 
 us. Would I had thee with me ! — Hast thou not God where 
 thou art, and having Him dost thou still seek for any other? 
 Would He tell thee aught else than these things? Why, wert 
 thou a statue of Phidias, an Athena or a Zens, thou wouldst 
 bethink thee both of thyself and thine artificer ; and hadst thou 
 any sense, thou wouldst strive to do no dishonour to thy- 
 self or him that fashioned thee, nor appear to beholders in un- 
 befitting guise. But now, because God is thy Maker, is that 
 why thou carest not of what sort thou shalt show thyself to 
 be ? Yet how different the artists and their workmanship ! 
 What human artist's work, for example, has in it the fac- 
 ulties that are displayed in fashioning it? Is it aught but 
 marble, bronze, gold, or ivory? Nay, when the Athena of 
 Phidias has put forth her hand and received therein a 
 Victory, in that attitude she stands for evermore. But God's 
 works move and breathe; they use and judge the things of 
 sense. The workmanship of such an Artist, wilt thou dis- 
 honour Him? Ay, when he not only fashioned thee, but 
 placed thee, like a ward, in the care and guardianship of 
 thyself alone, wilt thou not only forget this, but also do 
 dishonour to what is committed to thy care ! If God had 
 entrusted thee with an orphan, wouldst thou have thus 
 neglected him? He hath delivered thee to thine own care, 
 saying, I had none more faithful than myself: keep this man 
 for me such as Nature hath made him — modest, faithful, 
 high-minded, a stranger to fear, to passion, to perturba- 
 tion. . . . 
 
 Such will I show myself to you all. — " What, exempt from 
 sickness also: from age, from death?" — Nay, but accepting 
 sickness, accepting death as becomes a God! 
 
 LXII 
 
 No labour, according to Diogenes, is good but that which 
 aims at producing courage and strength of soul rather than 
 of body. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 139 
 
 LXIII 
 
 A guide, on finding a man who has lost his way, brings 
 him back to the right path — he does not mock and jeer at 
 him and then take himself off. You also must show the 
 unlearned man the truth, and you will see that he will follow. 
 But so long as you do not show it him, you should not mock, 
 but rather feel your own incapacity. 
 
 LXIV 
 
 It was the first and most striking characteristic of Socrates 
 never to become heated in discourse, never to utter an in- 
 jurious or insulting v/ord — on the contrary, he persistently 
 bore insult from others and thus put an end to the fray. If 
 you care to know the extent of his power in this direction, 
 read Xenophon's Banquet, and you will see how many quar- 
 rels he put an end to. That is why the Poets are right in so 
 highly commending this faculty: — 
 
 Quickly and wisely withal even bitter feuds would he settle. 
 
 Nevertheless the practice is not very safe at present, 
 especially in Rome. One who adopts it, I need not say, ought 
 not to carry it out in an obscure corner, but boldly accost, 
 if occasion serve, som.e personage of rank or wealth. 
 
 " Can you tell me, sir, to whose care you entrust your 
 horses ? " 
 
 it T „ " 
 
 1 can. 
 
 " Is it to the first comer, who knows nothing about them? " 
 
 "Certainly not." 
 
 " Well, what of the man who takes care of your gold, 
 your silver or your raim.ent ? " 
 
 " He must be experienced also." 
 
 " And your body — have you ever considered about entrust- 
 ing it to any one's care ? " 
 
 " Of course I have." 
 
 " And no doubt to a person of experience as a trainer, a 
 physician ? 
 
 " Surely." 
 
 " Are these things the best you possess^ or have you any- 
 thing more precious ? " 
 
 -' What can you mean ? " 
 
140 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 " I mean that which employs these ; which weighs all 
 things ; which talces counsel and resolve." 
 
 " Oh, you mean the soul." 
 
 "You take me rightly; I do mean the soul. By Heaven, 
 I hold that far more precious than all else I possess. Can 
 you show me then what care you bestow on the soul? For 
 it can scarcely be thought that a man of your wisdom and 
 consideration in the city would suffer your most precious 
 possession to go to ruin through carelessness and neglect." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 "Well, do you take care of it yourself? Did any one 
 teach you the right method, or did you discover it yourself ? " 
 
 Now here comes in the danger: first, that the great man 
 may answer, "Why, what is that to you, my good fellow? 
 are you my master ? " And then, if you persist in troubling 
 him, may raise his hand to strike you. It is a practice of 
 which I was myself a warm admirer until such experiences 
 as these befell me. 
 
 LXV 
 
 When a youth was giving himself airs in the Theatre and 
 saying, " I am wise, for I have conversed with many wise 
 m«n," Epictetus replied, " I too have conversed with many 
 rich men, yet I am not rich ! " 
 
 LXVI 
 
 We see that a carpenter becomes a carpenter by learning 
 certain things: that a pilot, by learning certain things, 
 becomes a pilot. Possibly also in the present case the 
 mere desire to be wise and good is not enough. It is neces- 
 sary to learn certain things. This is then the object of our 
 search. The Philosophers would have us first learn that 
 there is a God, and that His Providence directs the Universe ; 
 further, that to hide from Him not only one's acts but even 
 one's thoughts and intentions is impossible; secondly, what 
 the nature of God is. Whatever that nature is discovered to 
 be, the man who would please and obey Him must strive with 
 all his might to be made like unto Him. If the Divine is 
 faithful, he also must be faithful; if free, he also must be 
 free; if beneficent, he also must be beneficent; if mag- 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 141 
 
 nanimous, he also must be magnanimous. Thus as an imita- 
 tor of God must he follow Him in every deed and word. 
 
 LXVII 
 
 If I show you, that you lack just what is most important 
 and necessary to happiness, that hitherto your attention has 
 been bestowed on everything rather than that which claims 
 it most; and, to crown all, that you know neither what God 
 nor Man is — neither what Good nor Evil is: why, that you 
 are ignorant of everything else, perhaps you may bear to 
 be told; but to hear that you know nothing of yourself, how 
 could you submit to that ? How could you stand your ground 
 and suffer that to be proved? Clearly not at all. You 
 instantly turn away in wrath. Yet what harm have I done 
 you? Unless indeed the mirror harms the ill-favoured man 
 by showing him to himself just as he is; unless the physician 
 can be thought to insult his patient, when he tells him: — 
 " Friend, do you suppose there is nothing wrong with you ? 
 why, you have a fever. Eat nothing to-day, and drink only 
 water." Yet no one says, " What an insufferable insult ! " 
 Whereas, if you say to a man, " Your desires are inflamed, 
 your instincts of rejection are weak and low, your aims are 
 inconsistent, your impulses are not in harmony with Nature, 
 your opinions are rash and false," he forthwith goes away 
 and complains that you have insulted him. 
 
 LXVIII 
 
 Our way of life resembles a fair. The flocks and herds 
 are passing along to be sold, and the greater part of the 
 crowd to buy and sell. But there are some few who come 
 only to look at the fair, to inquire how and why it is being 
 held, upon what authority and with what object. So too, 
 in this great Fair of life, some, like the cattle, trouble them- 
 selves about nothing but the fodder. Know all of you, who 
 are busied about land, slaves and public posts, that these 
 are nothing but fodder! Some few there are attending the 
 Fair, who love to contemplate what the world is, what He 
 that administers it. Can there be no Administrator? is it 
 possible, that while neither city nor household could endure 
 even for a moment without one to administer and see to its 
 
142 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 welfare, this Fabric, so fair, so vast, should be administered 
 in order so harmonious, without a purpose and by blind 
 chance? There is therefore an Administrator. What is 
 His nature and how does He administer? And who are we 
 that are His children and what work were we born to per- 
 form? Have we any close connection or relation with Him 
 or not? 
 
 Such are the impressions of the few of whom I speak. 
 And further, they apply themselves solely to considering 
 and examining the great assembly before they depart. Well, 
 they are derided by the multitude. So are the lookers-on 
 by the traders : aye, and if the beasts had any sense, they 
 would deride those who thought much of anything but 
 fodder 1 
 
 LXIX 
 
 I think I know now what I never knew before — the mean- 
 ing of the common saying, A fool you can neither bend nor 
 break. Pray heaven I may never have a wise fool for my 
 friend ! There is nothing more intractable. — " My resolve 
 is fixed ! " — Why, so madmen say too ; but the more firmly 
 they believe in their delusions, the more they stand in need 
 of treatment. 
 
 LXX 
 
 — " O ! when shall I see Athens and its Acropolis again ? " 
 — Miserable man ! art thou not contented with the daily 
 sights that meet thine eyes ? canst thou behold aught greater 
 or nobler than the Sun, Moon, and Stars ; than the outspread 
 Earth and Sea? If indeed thou apprehendest Him who 
 administers the universe, if thou bearest Him about within 
 thee, canst thou still hanker after mere fragments of stone 
 and a fine rock ? When thou art about to bid farewell to the 
 Sun and Moon itself, wilt thou sit down and cry like a child ? 
 Why, what didst thou hear, what didst thou learn ? why didst 
 thou write thyself down a philosopher, when thou mightest 
 have written what was the fact, namely, " I have made one 
 or two Compendiums, I have read some works of Chrysippus, 
 and I have not even touched the hem of Philosophy's robe " ! 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 143 
 
 LXXI 
 
 Friend, lay hold with a desperate grasp, ere it is too late, on 
 Freedom, on Tranquillity, on Greatness of soul ! Lift up thy 
 head, as one escaped from slavery; dare to look up to God, 
 and say : — " Deal with me henceforth as Thou wilt ; Thou 
 and I are of one mind. I am Thine: I refuse nothing that 
 seemeth good to Thee ; lead on whither Thou wilt ; clothe me 
 in what garb Thou pleasest; wilt Thou have me a ruler or 
 a subject — at hom.e or in exile — poor or rich? All these 
 things will I justify unto men for Thee. I will show the 
 true nature of each. ..." 
 
 Who would Hercules have been had he loitered at home? 
 no Hercules, but Eurystheus. And in his wanderings 
 through the world how many friends and com.rades did he 
 find? but nothing dearer to him than God. Wherefore he 
 was believed to be God's son, as indeed he was. So then 
 in obedience to Him, he went about delivering the earth 
 from injustice and lawlessness. 
 
 But thou art not Hercules, thou sayest, and canst not de- 
 liver others from their iniquity — not even Theseus, to deliver 
 the soil of Attica from its monsters ? Purge away thine own, 
 cast forth thence — from thine own mind, not robbers and 
 monsters, but Fear, Desire, Envy, Malignity, Avarice, Ef- 
 feminacy, Intemperance. And these may not be cast out, 
 except by looking to God alone, by fixing thy affections on 
 Him only, and by consecrating thyself to His com.mands. 
 If thou choosest aught else, with sighs and groans thou vnlt 
 be forced to follow a Might greater than thine own, ever 
 seeking Tranquillity without, and never able to attain unto 
 her. For thou seekest her where she is not to be found; 
 and where she is, there thou seekest her not ! 
 
 LXXH 
 
 If a man would pursue Philosophy, his first task is to throw 
 away conceit. For it is im.possible for a man to begin to 
 learn what he has a conceit that he already know<5. 
 
 LXXIII 
 
 Give me but one young man, that has com.e to the School 
 with this mtention, who stands forth a champion of this 
 
144 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 cause, and says, "All else I renounce, content if I am btit 
 able to pass my life free from hindrance and trouble; to 
 raise my head aloft and face all things as a free man; to 
 look up to heaven as a friend of God, fearing nothing that 
 may come to pass ! " Point out such a one to me, that I may 
 say, " Enter, young man, into possession of that which is 
 thine own. For thy lot is to adorn Philosophy. Thine are 
 these possessions ; thine these books, these discourses ! " 
 
 And when our champion has dlily exercised himself in 
 this part of the subject, I hope he will come back to me 
 and say : — " What I desire is to be free from passion and 
 from perturbation; as one who grudges no pains in the 
 pursuit of piety and philosophy, what I desire is to know my 
 duty to the Gods, my duty to my parents, to my brothers, 
 to my country, to strangers." 
 
 "Enter then on the second part of the subject; it is 
 thine also." 
 
 " But I have already mastered the second part ; only I 
 wished to stand firm and unshaken — as firm when asleep 
 as when awake, as firm when elated with wine as in despon- 
 dency and dejection." 
 
 " Friend, you are verily a God ! you cherish great designs." 
 
 LXXIV 
 
 " The question at stake," said Epictetus, " is no common 
 one; it is this: — Are we in our senses, or are we not?" 
 
 LXXV 
 
 If you "have given way to anger, be sure that over and 
 above the evil involved therein, you have strengthened the 
 habit, and added fuel to the fire. If overcome by a tempta- 
 tion of the flesh, do not reckon it a single defeat, but that 
 you have also strengthened your dissolute habits. Habits 
 and faculties are necessarily affected by the corresponding 
 acts. Those that were not there before, spring up : the rest 
 gain in strength and extent. This is the account which 
 Philosophers give of the origin of diseases of the mind:— 
 Suppose you have once lusted after money: if reason sufi^i- 
 cient to produce a sense of the evil be appHed, then the lust 
 is checked, and the mind at once regains its original author- 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 145 
 
 It}''; whereas if you have recourse to no remedy, you can 
 no longer look for this return — on the contrary, the next 
 time it is excited by the corresponding object, the flame of 
 desire leaps up more quickly than before. By frequent 
 repetition, the mind in the long run becomes callous; and 
 thus this mental disease produces confirmed Avarice. 
 
 One who has had fever, even when it has left him, is not 
 in the same condition of health as before, unless indeed his 
 cure is complete. Something of the sam^e sort is true also 
 of diseases of the mind. Behind, there remains a legacy 
 of traces and of blisters: and unless these are effectually 
 erased, subsequent blows on the same spot will produce no 
 longer mere blisters, but sores. If you do not wish to 
 be prone to anger, do not feed the habit; give it nothing 
 which may tend to its increase. At first, keep quiet and 
 count the days when you were not angry : " I used to be 
 angry every day, then every other day: next every two, 
 next every three days ! " and if you succeed in passing thirty 
 days, sacrifice to the Gods in thanksgiving. 
 
 LXXVI 
 
 How then may this be attained? — Resolve, now if never 
 before, to approve thyself to thyself; resolve to shov/ thyself 
 fair in God's sight; long to be pure with thine own pure 
 self and God! 
 
 LXXVII 
 
 That is the true athlete, that trains himself to resist such 
 outward impressions as these. 
 
 " Stay, wretched man ! suffer not thyself to be carried 
 away ! " Great is the combat, divine the task ! you are 
 fighting for Kingship, for Liberty, for Happiness, for Tran- 
 quillity. Remember God: call upon Him to aid thee, like 
 a comrade that stands beside thee in the fight. 
 
 LXXVIII 
 
 Who then is a Stoic- — in the sense that we call that a 
 statue of Phidias which is modelled after that master's art? 
 Show me a man in this sense modelled after the doctrines 
 that are ever upon his lips. Show me a man that is sick — 
 and happy; in danger — and happy; on his death-bed-^and 
 
146 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 happy; an exile — and happy; in evil report — and happy! 
 Show me him, I ask again. So help me Heaven, I long to see 
 one Stoic ! Nay, if you cannot show me one fully modelled, let 
 m.e at least see one in whom the process is at work — one whose 
 bent is in that direction. Do me that favour ! Grudge it not to 
 an old man, to behold a sight that he has never yet beheld. 
 Think you I vv^ish to see the Zeiis or Athena of Phidias, be- 
 decked with gold and ivory? — Nay, show me, one of you, a 
 human soul, desiring to be of one mind with God, no more to 
 lay .blame on God or man, to suffer nothing to disappoint, noth- 
 ing to cross him, to yield neither to anger, envy, nor jealousy 
 — in a word, why disguise the matter? one that from a man 
 would fain become a God; one that while still imprisoned 
 in this dead body makes fellowship with God his aim. Show 
 me him ! — Ah, you cannot ! Then why mock yourselves and 
 delude others? why stalk about tricked out in other men's 
 attire, thieves and robbers that you are of names and things 
 to which you can show no title ! 
 
 LXXIX 
 
 If you have assum^ed a character beyond your strength, 
 you have both played a poor figure in that, and neglected 
 one that is within your powers. 
 
 LXXX 
 
 Fellow, you have come to blows at home with a slave: 
 you have turned the household upside down, and thrown the 
 neighbourhood into confusion ; and do you come to me then 
 with airs of assumed modesty — do you sit down like a sage 
 and criticise my explanation of the readings, and whatever 
 idle babble you say has come into my head ? Have you come 
 full of envy, and dejected because nothing is sent you from 
 home; and while the discussion is going on, do you sit 
 brooding on nothing but hov7 5^our father or your brother 
 are disposed towards you :— " What are they saying about 
 me there? at this moment they imagine I am making prog- 
 ress and saying, He will return perfectly omniscient ! I wish 
 I could becomiC omniscient before I return; but that would 
 be very troublesome. No one sends me anything — the baths 
 at Nicopolis are dirty; things are wretched at home and 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 147 
 
 wretched here." And then they say, " Nobody is any the 
 better for the School." — Who comes to the School with a 
 sincere wish to learn: to submit his principles to correction 
 and himself to treatment? Who, to gain a sense of his 
 wants ? Why then be surprised if you carry home from the 
 School exactly what you bring into it? 
 
 LXXXI 
 
 " Epictetus, I have often come desiring to hear you speak, 
 and you have never given me any answer; now if possible, 
 I entreat you, say something to me.'* 
 
 " Is there, do you think," replied Epictetus, " an art of 
 speaking as of other things, if it is to be done skilfully and 
 with profit to the hearer ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And are all profited by what they hear, or only some 
 among them? So that it seems there is an art of hearing 
 as well as of speaking. ... To make a statue needs skill: 
 to viev/ a statue aright needs skill also." 
 
 " Admitted." 
 
 " And I think all will allow that one who proposes to hear 
 philosophers speak needs a considerable training in hearing. 
 Is that not so? Then tell me on what subject you are able 
 to hear me." 
 
 " Why, on good and evil." 
 
 " The good and evil of what ? a horse, an ox ? " 
 
 "No; of a man." 
 
 "Do we know then what Man is? what his nature is? 
 what is the idea we have of him? And are our ears prac- 
 tised in any degree on the subject? Nay, do you understand 
 what Nature is? can you follow me in any degree when I 
 say that I shall have to use demonstration? Do you under- 
 stand what Demonstration is? what True or False is? . . , 
 must I drive you to Philosophy? . . . Show me what good 
 I am to do by discoursing with you. Rouse my desire to 
 do so. The sight of the pasture it loves stirs in a sheep 
 the desire to feed : show it a stone or a bit of bread and it 
 remains unmoved. Thus we also have certain natural de- 
 sires, aye, and one that moves us to speak when we find a 
 .listener that is worth his salt: one that himself stirs the 
 
148 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 spirit. But if he sits by like a stone or a tuft of grass, how 
 can he rouse a man's desire ? " 
 
 " Then you will say nothing to me ? " 
 
 " I can only tell you this : that one who knows not who 
 he is and to what end he was born; what kind of world 
 this is and with whom he is associated therein ; one who can- 
 not distinguish Good and Evil, Beauty and Foulness, , . . 
 Truth and Falsehood, will never follov/ Reason in shaping 
 his desires and impulses and repulsions, nor yet in assent, 
 denial, or suspension of judgment; but will in one word go 
 about deaf and blind, thinking himself to be somewhat, when 
 he is in truth of no account. Is there anything new in all 
 this? Is not this ignorance the cause of all the mistakes and 
 mischances of men since the human race began? . . ." 
 
 " This is all I have to say to you, and even this against 
 the grain. Why? Because you have not stirred my spirit. 
 For what can I see in you to stir me, as a spirited horse will 
 fetir a judge of horses? Your body? That you maltreat. 
 Your dress ? That is luxurious. Your behaviour, your look ? 
 r^-Nothing whatever. When you want to hear a philosopher, 
 do not say, 'You say nothing to me'; only show yourself 
 worthy or fit to hear, and then you will see how you will 
 move the speaker." 
 
 LXXXII 
 
 And now, when you see brothers apparently good friends 
 and living in accord, do not immediately pronounce any- 
 thing upon their friendship, though they should affirm it 
 with an oath, though they should declare, " For us to live 
 apart is a thing impossible ! " For the heart of a bad man 
 is faithless, unprincipled, inconstant: now overpowered by 
 one impression, now by another. Ask not the usual ques- 
 tions, Were they born of the same parents, reared together, 
 and under the same tutor; but ask this only, in what they 
 place their real interest — whether in outvv^ard things or in 
 the Will. If in outward things, call them not friends, any 
 more than faithful, constant, brave or free: call them 
 not even human beings, if you have any sense. . * . But 
 should you hear that these men hold the Good to lie only 
 in the Will, only in rightly dealing with the things of sense, 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 149 
 
 take no more trouble to inquire whether they are father and 
 son or brothers, or comrades of long standing; but, sure of 
 this one thing, pronounce as boldly that they are friends 
 as that they are faithful and just: for where else can Friend- 
 ship be found than where Modesty is, where there is an 
 interchange of things fair and honest, and of such only? 
 
 LXXXIII 
 
 No man can rob us of our Will — no man can lord it over 
 that ! 
 
 LXXXIV 
 
 When disease and death overtake me, I would fain be 
 found engaged in the task of liberating mine own Will from 
 the assaults of passion, from hindrance, from resentment, 
 from slavery. 
 
 Thus would I fain be found employed, so that I may say 
 to God, " Have I in aught transgressed Thy commands ? 
 Have I in aught perverted the faculties, the senses, the 
 natural principles that Thou didst give me? Have I ever 
 blamed Thee or found fault with Thine administration? 
 When it was Thy good pleasure, I fell sick — and so did 
 other men: but my will consented. Because it was Thy 
 pleasure, I became poor, — but my heart rejoiced. No power 
 in the State was mine, because Thou wouldst not: such 
 power I never desired ! Hast Thou ever seen me of more 
 doleful countenance on that account? Have I not ever 
 drawn nigh unto Thee with cheerful look, waiting upon Thy 
 commands, attentive to Thy signals ? Wilt Thou that I now 
 depart from the great Assembly of men? I go: I give Thee 
 ?11 thanks, that Thou hast deemed me worthy to take part 
 with Thee in this Assembly: to behold Thy works, to com- 
 prehend this Thine administration." 
 
 Such I would were the subject of my thoughts, my pen, 
 my study, when death overtakes me. 
 
 LXXXV 
 
 Seemeth it nothing to you, never to accuse, never to blame 
 either God or Man? to wear ever the same countenance in 
 going forth as in coming in? This was the secret of Soc- 
 rates: ytt he never said that he knew or taught anything. 
 
ISO THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 c o o Who amongst you makes this his aim? V/ere it indeed 
 so, you would gladly endure sickness, hunger, aye, death 
 itself. 
 
 LXXXVI 
 
 How are we constituted by Nature? To be free, to be 
 noble, to be modest (for what other living thing is capable 
 of blushing, or of feeling the impression of shame?) and to 
 subordinate pleasure to the ends for which Nature designed 
 us, as a handm.aid and a minister, in order to call forth our 
 activity; in order to keep us constant to the path prescribed 
 by Nature, 
 
 LXXXVII 
 
 The husbandman deals with land; physicians and trainers 
 with the body ; the wise man with his own Mind. 
 
 Lxxxviir 
 
 Which of us does not admire what Lycurgus the Spartan 
 did? A young citizen had put out his eye, and been handed 
 over to him by the people to be punished at his own dis- 
 cretion. Lycurgus abstained from all vengeance, but on 
 the contrary instructed and made a good man of him. Pro- 
 ducing him in public in the theatre, he said to the astonished 
 Spartans : — " I received this young man at your hands full 
 of violence and wanton insolence ; I restore him to you in 
 his right mind and fit to serve his country." 
 
 LXXXIX 
 
 A money-changer may not reject Caesar's coin, nor may 
 the seller of herbs, but must when once the coin is shown, 
 deliver what is sold for it, v/hether he v/ill or nOo So is 
 it also with the Soul. Once the Good appears, it attracts 
 towards itself; evil repels. But a clear and certain impres- 
 sion of the Good the Soul will never reject, any more than 
 men do Caesar's coin. On this hangs every impulse alike of 
 Man and God. 
 
 xc 
 
 Asked what Common Sense was, Epictetus replied :^ — 
 As that may be called a Common Ear which distinguishes 
 only sounds, while that which distinguishes musical notes 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 151 
 
 is not common but produced by training; so there are certain 
 things which men not entirely perverted see by the natural 
 principles common to all. Such a constitution of the Mind 
 is called Common Sense. 
 
 xci 
 
 Canst thou judge men? . . . then make us imitators of 
 thyself, as Socrates did. Do this, do not do that, else zvill I 
 cast thee into prison; this is not governing men like reason- 
 able creatures. Say rather, As God hath ordained, so do; 
 else thou wilt suifer chastisement and loss, xA.skest thou 
 what loss? None other than this: To have left undone 
 what thou shouldst have done: to have lost the faithfulness, 
 the reverence, the modesty that is in thee ! Greater loss 
 than this seek not to find ! 
 
 xcii 
 
 " His son is dead." 
 
 What has happened? 
 
 " His son is dead/' 
 
 Nothing more? 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " His ship is lost." 
 
 What has happened? 
 
 " His ship is lost." 
 
 " He has been haled to prison/* 
 
 What has happened? 
 
 " He has been haled to prison." 
 
 But that any of these things are misfortunes to him, Is 
 an addition which every one m.akes of his own. But (you 
 say) God is unjust in this. — ^Why? For having given thee 
 endurance and greatness of soul? For having made such 
 things to be no evils? For placing happiness within thy 
 reach, even when enduring them? For opening unto thee 
 a door, when things make not for thy good? — Depart, my 
 friend, and find fault no more 1 
 
 XCIII 
 
 You are sailing to Rome (you tell me) to obtain the post 
 of Governor of Cnossus." You are not content to stay at 
 home with the honours you had before ; you want something 
 
 ^ In Cret^o 
 
152 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 on a larger scale, and more conspicuous. But when did you 
 ever undertake a voyage for the purpose of reviewing your 
 own principles and getting rid of any of them that proved 
 unsound? Whom did you ever visit for that object? What 
 time did you ever set yourself for that? What age? Run 
 over the times of your life — ^by yourself, if you are ashamed 
 before me. Did you examine your principles w^hen a boy? 
 Did you not do everything just as you do nov/? Or when 
 you were a stripling, attending the school of oratory and 
 practising the art yourself, what did you ever imagine you 
 lacked? And when you were a young man, entered upon 
 public life, and were pleading causes and making a nam.e, 
 .who any longer seemed equal to you ? And at what momicnt 
 would you have endured another examining your principles 
 and proving that they were unsound? What then am I to 
 say to you ? " Help me in this matter ! " you cry. Ah, for 
 that I have no rule ! And neither did you, if that was your 
 object, come to me as a philosopher, but as you might have 
 gone to a herb-seller or a cobbler. — " What do philosophers 
 have rules for, then ? " — Why, that whatever may betide, our 
 ruling faculty may be as Nature would have it, and so 
 remain. Think you this a small matter? Not so! but the 
 greatest thing there is. Well, does it need but a short time ? 
 Can it be grasped by a passer-by ? — grasp it, if you can ! 
 Then you will say, " Yes, I met Epictetus ! " 
 Ay, just as you might a statue or a monument. You saw 
 me ! and that is all. But a man who meets a man is one who 
 learns the other's mind, and lets him see his in turn. Learn 
 my mind — show me yours; and then go and say that you 
 met me. Let us try each other; if I have any wrong prin- 
 ciple, rid me of it; if you have, out v/ith it. That is what 
 meeting a philosopher means. Not so, you think; this is 
 only a flying visit; while we are hiring the ship, we can 
 see Epictetus too ! Let us see what he has to say. Then on 
 leaving you cry, " Out on Epictetus for a worthless fellow, 
 provincial and barbarous of speech ! " What else indeed did 
 you come to judge of? 
 
 xciv 
 
 "Whether you will or no, you are poorer than I ! 
 *• What then do I tack?/* 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 153 
 
 What you have not: Constancy of mind, such as Nature 
 would have it to be : Tranquillity. Patron or no patron, what 
 care I? but you do care. I am richer than you: I am not 
 racked with anxiety as to what Csesar may think of me; I 
 flatter none on that account. This is what I have, instead 
 of vessels of gold and silver ! your vessels may be of gold, 
 but your reason, your principles, your accepted views, your 
 inclinations, your desires are of earthenware. 
 
 xcv 
 To you, all you have seems small : to me, all I have seems 
 great. Your desire is insatiable, mine is satisfied. See 
 children thrusting their hands into a narrow-necked jar, and 
 striving to pull out the nuts and figs it contains: if they 
 fill the hand, they cannot pull it out again, and then th-y 
 fall to tears. — "Let go a few of them, and then you cun 
 draw out the rest!" — You, too, let your desire go! covet 
 not many things, and you will obtain. 
 
 xcvi 
 Pittacus,^ wronged by one whom he had it in his power 
 to punish, let him go free, saying. Forgiveness is better than 
 revenge. The one shows native gentleness, the other 
 savagery. 
 
 XCVII 
 
 " My brother ought not to have treated me thus." 
 
 True : but he must see to that. However he may treat me, 
 
 I must deal rightly by him. This is what lies with me, ;what 
 
 none can hinder. 
 
 XCVIII 
 
 Nevertheless a man should also be prepared to be sufficient 
 unto himself — to dwell with himself alone, even as God 
 dwells with Himself alone, shares His repose with none, 
 and considers the nature of His own administration, intent 
 upon such thoughts as are meet unto Himself. So should 
 we also be able to converse with ourselves, to need none 
 else beside, to sigh for no distraction, to bend our thoughts 
 upon the Divine Administration, and how we stand related 
 
 12 One of the Seven Wise Men of Greece. He ruled Mytilene m. Lesbos 
 in the seventh century B. c. 
 
154 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 to all else; to observe how human accidents touched us of 
 old, and how they touch us now; ;what things they are that 
 still have power to hurt us, and how they may be cured or 
 removed ; to perfect what needs perfecting as Reason would 
 direct. 
 
 xcix 
 
 If a man has frequent intercourse with others, either in 
 the way of conversation, entertainment, or simple familiarity, 
 he must either become like them, or change them to his own 
 fashion. A live coal placed next a dead one will either 
 kindle that or be quenched by it. Such being the risk, it is 
 well to be cautious in admitting intimacies of this sort, re- 
 membering that one cannot rub shoulders with a soot-stained 
 man without sharing the soot oneself. What will you do, 
 supposing the talk turns on gladiators, or horses or prize- 
 fighters, or (what is worse) on persons j condemning this and 
 that, approving the other? Or suppose a m.an sneers or jeers 
 or shows a malignant temper? Has any among us the skill 
 of the lute-player, v/ho knows at the first touch which strings 
 are out of tune and sets the instrument right: has any of 
 you such a power as Socrates had, in all his intercourse with 
 men, of winning them over to his own convictions? Nay, 
 but you must needs be swayed hither and thither by the un- 
 instructed. How comes it then that they prove so much 
 stronger than you? Because they speak from the fulness 
 of the heart — their low, corrupt views are their real con- 
 victions : whereas your fine sentiments are but from the lips, 
 outwards; that is iwhy they are so nerveless and dead. It 
 turns one's stomach to listen to your exhortations, and hear 
 of your miserable Virtue, that you prate of up and down. 
 Thus it is that the Vulgar prove too strong for you. Every- 
 where strength, everywhere victory waits your conviction! 
 
 C 
 
 In general, any methods of discipline applied to the body 
 which tend to modify its desires or repulsions, are good — 
 for ascetic ends. But if done for display, they betray at once 
 a man who keeps an eye on outward show; who has an 
 ulterior purpose, and is looking for spectators to shout, " Oh 
 what a great man ! " This is why ApoUonius so well said : 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 15S 
 
 "If you are bent upon a little private discipline, wait till 
 you are choking with heat some day — then take a mouthful 
 of cold water, and spit it out again, and tell no man ! " 
 
 CI 
 
 Study how to give as one that is sick: that thou mayest 
 hereafter give as one that is whole. Fast ; drink water only ; 
 abstain altogether from desire, that thou mayest hereafter 
 conform thy desire to Reason. 
 
 CII 
 
 Thou wouldst do good unto men ? then show them by thine 
 own example what kind of men philosophy can make, and 
 cease from foolish trifling. Eating, do good to them that 
 eat with thee; drinking, to them that drink with thee; 
 yield unto all, give way, and bear with them. Thus shalt 
 thou do them good: but vent not upon them thine own evil 
 humour ! 
 
 cm 
 
 Even as bad actors cannot sing alone, but only in chorus : 
 so some cannot walk alone, 
 
 Man, if thou art aught, strive to walk alone and hold 
 converse with thyself, instead of skulking in the chorus ! at 
 length think; look around thee; bestir thyself, that thou 
 mayest know who thou art ! 
 
 CIV 
 
 You would fain be victor at the Olympic games, you say. 
 Yes, but weigh the conditions, weigh the consequences ; then 
 and then only, lay to your hand— if it be for your profit. 
 You must live by rule, submit to diet, abstain from dainty 
 meats, exercise your body perforce at stated hours, in heat 
 or in cold; drink no cold water, nor, it may be, wine. In 
 a word, you must surrender yourself wholly to your trainer, 
 as though to a physician. 
 
 Then in the hour of contest, you will have to delve the 
 ground, it may chance dislocate an arm, strain an ankle, 
 gulp down abundance of yellow sand, be scourged with the 
 whip — and with all this somictimes lose the victory. Count 
 the cost — and then, if your desire still holds, try the wrest- 
 ler's life. Else let me tell you that you will be behaving like 
 
156 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 a pack of children playing now at wrestlers, now at gladia- 
 tors; presently falling to trumpeting and anon to stage-play- 
 ing, when the fancy takes them for what they have seen. 
 And you are even the same : wrestler, gladiator, philosopher, 
 orator all by turns and none of them with your whole soul. 
 Like an ape, you mimic what you see, to one thing constant 
 never; the thing that is familiar charms no more. This is 
 because you never undertook aught with due consideration, 
 nor after strictly testing and viewing it from every side ; no, 
 your choice vv^as thoughtless; the glow of your desire had 
 waxed cold. . . . 
 
 Friend, bethink you first what it is that you would do, and 
 then what your own nature is able to bear. Would you be 
 a wrestler, consider your shoulders, your thighs, your loins — 
 not all men are formed to the same end. Think you to be 
 a philosopher while acting as you do? think you to go on 
 thus eating, thus drinking, giving way in like manner to 
 wrath and to displeasure? Nay, you must watch, you must 
 labour ; overcome certain desires ; quit your familiar friends, 
 submit to be despised by your slave, to be held in derision 
 by them that meet you, to take the lower place in all things, 
 in office, in positions of authority, in courts of law. 
 
 Weigh these things fully, and then, if you will, lay to your 
 hand; if as the price of these things you would gain Free- 
 dom, Tranquillity, and passionless Serenity. 
 
 cv 
 
 He that hath no musical instruction is a child in Music; 
 he that hath no letters is a child in Learning; he that is 
 untaught is a child in Life. 
 
 cvi 
 
 Can any profit be derived from these men ? Aye, from all. 
 
 " What, even from a reviler ? " 
 
 Why, tell me what profit a wrestler gains from him who 
 exercises him beforehand ? The very greatest : he trains me 
 in the practice of endurance, of controlling my temper, of 
 gentle ways. You deny it. What, the man who lays hold 
 of my neck, and disciplines loins and shoulders does me good, 
 . . . while he that trains me to keep my temper does me 
 none? This is what it means, not knowing how to gain 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 157' 
 
 advantage from men! Is my neighbour bad? Bad to him- 
 self, but good to me: he brings my good temper, my gentle- 
 ness into play. Is my father bad? Bad to himself, but good 
 to m.e. This is the rod of Hermes ; touch what you will with if, 
 they say, and it becomes gold. Nay, but bring what you will 
 and I will transm^ute it into Good. Bring sickness, bring death, 
 bring poverty and reproach, bring trial for life — all these 
 things through the rod of Hermes shall be turned to profit. 
 
 CVII 
 
 Till then these sound opinions have taken firm root in you, 
 and you have gained a measure of strength for your security, 
 I counsel you to be cautious in associating with the unin- 
 structed. Else whatever impressions you receive upon the 
 tablets of your mind in the School will day by day melt and 
 disappear, like wax in the sun. Withdraw then somewhere 
 far from the sun, while you have these waxen sentiments. 
 
 CVIII 
 
 We must approach this matter in a different way; it is 
 great and mystical : it is no common thing ; nor given to every 
 man. Wisdom alone, it may be, will not suffice for the care 
 of youth : a man needs also a certain measure of readiness — 
 an aptitude for the office; aye, and certain bodily qualities; 
 and above all, to be counselled of God Himself to undertake 
 this post; even as He counselled Socrates to fill the post of 
 one who confutes error, assigning to Diogenes^* the royal 
 office of high reproof, and to Zeno^* that of positive instruc- 
 tion. Whereas you would fain set up for a physician pro- 
 vided with nothing but drugs ! Where and how they should 
 be applied you neither know nor care. 
 
 cix 
 
 If what charms you is nothing but abstract principles, sit 
 down and turn them over quietly in your mind: but never 
 dub yourself a Philosopher, nor suffer others to call you so. 
 Say rather : He is in error ; for my desires, my impulses are 
 unaltered. I give in my adhesion to what I did before; nor 
 has my mode of dealing with the things of sense undergone 
 any change. 
 
 ^^ The well-known Cynic philosopher. 
 "Founder of the Stoic school of philosophy. 
 
158 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 ex 
 
 When a friend inclined to Cynic views asked Epictetus, 
 what sort of person a true Cynic should be, requesting a 
 general sketch of the system, he answered : — " We will con- 
 sider that at leisure. At present I content myself with say- 
 ing this much : If a man put his hand to so weighty a matter 
 without God, the wrath of God abides upon him. That 
 which he covets will but bring upon him public shame. Not 
 even on finding himself in a well-ordered house does a man 
 step forward and say to himself, I must be master here ! 
 Else the lord of that house takes notice of -it, and seeing him 
 insolently giving orders drags him forth and chastises him. 
 So it is also in this great City, the World. Here also is there 
 a Lord of the House, who orders all things : — 
 
 " Thou art the Sun ! in thhie orbit thou hast poiuer to make the year 
 and the seasons; to bid the fruits of the earth grow and increase^ 
 the winds arise and fall; thou canst in due measure cherish with 
 thy zvarnith the frames of m.en; go ?nake thy circuit, and thus min- 
 ister unto all from the greatest to the least! . . . 
 
 " Thou canst lead a host against Troy; be Aga7nemnon! 
 
 ''''Thou canst meet Hector in single combat; be Achilles! 
 
 " But had Thersites stepped forward and claimed the chief 
 command, he had been met with a refusal, or obtained it only 
 to his own shame and confusion of face, before a cloud of 
 witnesses." 
 
 CXI 
 
 Others may fence themselves with walls and houses, when 
 they do such deeds as these, and wrap themselves in dark- 
 ness — aye, they have many a device to hide themselves. An- 
 other may shut his door and station one before his chamber 
 to say, if any comes, He has gone forth I he is not at leisure f 
 But the true Cynic will have none of these things; instead 
 of them, he must wrap himself in Modesty: else he will but 
 bring himself to shame, naked and under the open sky. That 
 is his house; that is his door; that is the slave that guards 
 his chamber ; that is his darkness ! 
 
 CXII 
 
 Death? let it come when it will, whether it smite but a 
 part or the whole : Fly, you tell me — fly ! But whither shall 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 159 
 
 I fly ? Can any man cast me beyond the limits of the World ? 
 It may not be ! And w^hithersoever I go, there shall I still 
 find Sun, Moon, and Stars; there shall I find dreams, and 
 omens, and converse with the Gods ! 
 
 CXIII 
 
 Furthermore the true Cynic must know that he is sent as 
 a Messenger from God to men, to show unto them that as 
 touching good and evil they are in error; looking for these 
 where they are not to be found, nor ever bethinking them- 
 selves where they are. And like Diogenes when brought be- 
 fore Philip after the battle of Chseronea, the Cynic must 
 remember that he is a Spy. For a Spy he really is — to bring 
 back word vv'hat things are on Man's side, and what against 
 him. And when he has diligently observed all, he must come 
 back with a true report, not terrified into announcing them 
 to be foes that are no foes, nor otherwise perturbed or con- 
 founded by the things of sense. 
 
 cxiv 
 How can it be that one who hath nothing, neither raiment, 
 nor house, nor home, nor bodily tendance, nor servant, nor 
 city, should yet live tranquil and contented? Behold God 
 hath sent you a man to show you in act and deed that it 
 may be so. Behold me ! I have neither city nor house nor 
 possessions nor servants: the ground is my couch; I have 
 no wife, no children, no shelter — nothing but earth and sky, 
 and one poor cloak. And what lack I yet? am I not un- 
 touched by sorrow, by fear ? am I not free ? . . . v/hen have 
 I laid anything to the charge of God or Man? when have I 
 accused any? hath any of you seen me with a sorrowful 
 countenance ? And in what wise treat I those of whom you 
 stand in fear and awe ? Is it not as slaves ? Who when he 
 seeth me doth not think that he beholdeth his Master and 
 his King? 
 
 cxv 
 
 Give thyself more 'diligently to refiection: know thyself: 
 take counsel with the Godhead : v/ithout God put thine hand 
 unto nothing! 
 
160 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EFICTETUS 
 
 CXVI 
 
 " But to marry and to rear offspring," said tHe young man, 
 " will the Cynic hold himself bound to undertake this as a 
 chief duty ? " 
 
 Grant me a republic of wise men, answered Epictetus, and 
 perhaps none will lightly take the Cynic life upon him. For 
 on whose account should he embrace that method of life? 
 Suppose however that he does, there will then be nothing 
 to hinder his marrying and rearing offspring. For his wife 
 will be even such another as himself, and likewise her father ; 
 and in like manner will his children be brought up. 
 
 But in the present condition of things, which resembles an 
 Army in battle array, ought not the Cynic to be free from 
 all distraction and given wholly to the service of God, so 
 that he can go in and out among men, neither fettered by 
 the duties nor entangled by the relations of common life? 
 For if he transgress them, he will forfeit the character of a 
 good man and true; whereas if he observe them, there is 
 an end of him as the Messenger, the Spy, the Herald of the 
 Gods! 
 
 CXVII 
 
 Ask me if you choose if a Cynic shall engage in the ad- 
 ministration of the State. O fool, seek you a nobler adminis- 
 tration than that in which he is engaged ? Ask you if a man 
 shall come forward in the Athenian assembly and talk about 
 revenue and supplies, when his business is to converse with 
 all men, Athenians, Corinthians, and Romans alike, not about 
 supplies, not about revenue, nor yet peace and war, but about 
 Happiness and Misery, Prosperity and Adversity, Slavery 
 and Freedom? 
 
 Ask you whether a man shall engage in the administration 
 of the State who has engaged in such an Administration as 
 this? Ask me too if he shall govern; and again I will an- 
 swer, Fool, what greater government shall he hold than that 
 he holds already? 
 
 CXVIII 
 
 Such a man needs also to have a certain habit of body, 
 if he appear consumptive, thin and pale, his testimony has 
 no longer the same authority. He must not only prove to 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF SPICTETUS 161 
 
 the unlearned by showing them what his Soul is that it is 
 possible to be a good man apart from all that they admire; 
 but he must also show them, by his body, that a plain and 
 simple manner of life under the open sky does no harm to 
 the body either. " See, I am a proof of this ! and my body 
 also." As Diogenes used to do, who went about fresh of 
 look and by the very appearance of his body drew men's eyes. 
 But if a Cynic is an object of pity, he seem^s a mere beggar; 
 all turn away, all are offended at him. Nor should he be 
 slovenly of look, so as not to scare men from him in this 
 way either; on the contrary, his very roughness should be 
 clean and attractive. 
 
 CXIX 
 
 Kings and tyrants have armed guards wherewith to chas- 
 tise certain persons, though they be themselves evil. But to 
 the Cynic conscience gives this power — not arms and guards. 
 When he knows that he has watched and laboured on behalf 
 of mankind: that sleep hath found him pure, and left him 
 purer still: that his thoughts have been the thought of a 
 Friend of the Gods — of a servant, yet of one that hath a part 
 in the government of the Supreme God: that the words are 
 ever on his lips : — 
 
 Lead me^ God, and thou, Destiny! 
 as well as these : — 
 
 If this be God^s will, so let it be! 
 Why should he not speak boldly unto his own brethren, unto 
 his children — in a word, unto all that are akin to him ! 
 
 cxx 
 
 Does a Philosopher apply to people to come and hear him ? 
 does he not rather, of his ovvm nature, attract those that will 
 be benefited by him — like the sun that warms, the food that 
 sustains them ? W^hat Physician applies to men to come and 
 be healed? (Though indeed I hear that the Physicians at 
 Rome do novvadays apply for patients — in my time they were 
 applied to). I apply to you to come and hear that you are 
 in evil case; that what deserves your attention most is the 
 last thing to gain it ; that you know not good from evil, and 
 are in short a hapless wretch ; a fine way to apply ! though 
 
 6 HC— Vol. 2 
 
162 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 unless the words of the Philosopher affect you thus, speaker 
 and speech are alike dead. 
 
 cxxi 
 
 A Philosopher's school is a Surgery: pain, not pleasure, 
 you should have felt therein. For on entering none of you 
 is whole. One has a shoulder out of joint, another an ab- 
 scess : a third suffers from an issue, a fourth from pains in 
 the head. And am I then to sit dov/n and treat you to pretty 
 sentiments and empty flourishes, so that you may applaud me 
 and depart, with neither shoulder, nor head, nor issue, nor 
 abscess a v/hit the better for your visit? Is it then for this 
 that young men are to quit their homes, and leave parents, 
 friends, kinsmen and substance to mouth out Bravo to your 
 empty phrases ! 
 
 cxxir 
 
 If any be unhappy, let him remember that he is unhappy 
 by reason of himself alone. For God hath made all men to 
 enjoy felicity and constancy of good. 
 
 CXXIII 
 
 Shall we never wean ourselves — shall we never heed the 
 teachings of Philosophy (unless perchance they have been 
 sounding in our ears like an enchanter's drone) : — - 
 
 This World is one great City, and one is the substance 
 whereof it is fashioned : a certain period indeed there needs 
 must be, while these give place to those; some must perish 
 for others to succeed ; some move and some abide : yet all is 
 full of friends — first God, then Men, whom Nature hath 
 bound by ties of kindred each to each. 
 
 cxxiv 
 
 Nor did the hero^^ weep and lam.ent at leaving his children 
 orphans. For he knew that no man is an orphan, but it is 
 the Father that careth for all continually and for evermore. 
 Not by mere report had he heard that the Supreme God is 
 the Father of men: seeing that he called Him Father be- 
 lieving Him so to be, and in all that he did had ever his 
 eyes fixed upon Him. Wherefore in whatsoever place he 
 was, there it was given him to live happily. 
 
 1^ Hercules. 
 
•THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPiCTSTUS 163 
 
 cxxv 
 Know you not that the thing is a warfare ? one man's duty 
 is to mount guard, another m^ust go out to reconnoitre, a 
 third to battle ; all cannot be in one place, nor would it even 
 be expedient. But you, instead of executing your Comman- 
 der's orders, complain if aught harsher than usual is en- 
 joined; not understanding to what condition you are bringing 
 the army; so far as in j^ou lies. If all were to follow your 
 example, none would dig a trench, none v/ould cast a ram- 
 part around the camp, none would keep watch, or expose 
 himself to danger ; but all turn out useless for the service of 
 war. . . . Thus it is here also. Every life is a warfare, and 
 that long and various. You must fulfil a soldier's duty, and 
 obey each order at your commander's nod : aye, if it be pos- 
 sible, divine what he would have done; for between that 
 Commander and thisj there is no comparison, either in might 
 or in excellence. 
 
 CXXVI 
 
 Have you again forgotten? Know you not that a good 
 man does nothing for appearance' sake, but for the sake of 
 having done right? . . . 
 
 " Is there no reward then? " 
 
 RevN^ard ! do you seek any greater reward for a good man 
 than doing what is right and just? Yet at the Great Games 
 you look for nothing else ; there the victor's crown you deem 
 enough. Seems it to you so small a thing and worthless, to 
 be a good man, and happy therein ? 
 
 CXXVII 
 
 It befits thee not to be unhappy by reason of any, but rather 
 to be happy by reason of all men, and especially by reason of 
 God, who formed us to this end. 
 
 CXXVIII 
 
 What, did Dio'genes love no man, he that was so gentle, 'so 
 true a friend to men as cheerfully to endure such bodily hard- 
 ships for the common weal of all mankind? But how loved 
 he them? As behoved a minister of the Supreme God, alike 
 ^ring for men and subject unto God. 
 
164 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 CXXIX 
 
 I am by Nature made for my own good; not for my own 
 evil. 
 
 cxxx 
 
 Remind thyself that he whom thou lovest is mortal — that 
 what thou lovest is not thine own; it is given thee for the 
 present, not irrevocably nor for ever, but even as a fig or a 
 bunch of grapes at the appointed season of the year. . . . 
 
 " But these are words of evil omen." . . . 
 
 What, callest thou aught of evil omen save that which 
 signifies some evil thing? Cowardice is a word of evil omen, 
 if thou wilt, and meanness of spirit, and lamentation and 
 mournine and shamelessness. . . . 
 
 But do not, I pray thee, call of evil omen a word that is 
 significant of any natural thing: — as well call of evil omen 
 the reaping of the corn; for it means the destruction of the 
 ears, though not of the World ! — as well say that the fall 
 of the leaf is of evil omen ; that the dried fig should take the 
 place of the green ; that raisins should be made from grapes. 
 All these are changes from a former state into another; not 
 destruction, but an ordered economy, a fixed administration. 
 Such is leaving home, a change of small account; such is 
 Death, a greater change, from what now is, not to what is 
 not, but to what is not now. 
 
 " Shall I then no longer be ? " 
 
 Not so; thou wilt be; but something different, of which 
 the World now hath need. For thou too v/ert born not when 
 thou chosest, but when the World had need of thee. 
 
 cxxxi 
 
 Wherefore a good man and true, bearing in mind who he 
 is and whence he came and from whom he sprang, cares only 
 how he may fill his post with due disciphne and obedience 
 to God. 
 
 Wilt thou that I continue to live ? Then will I live, as one 
 that is free and noble, as Thou wouldst have me. For Thou 
 hast made me free from hindrance in what appertaineth unto 
 m.e. But hast Thou no further need of me ? I thank Thee ! 
 Up to this hour have I stayed for Thy sake and none other's : 
 and mow in obedience to Thee I depart. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 165 
 
 "How dost thou depart?" 
 
 Again I say, as Thou wouldst have me ; as one that is free, 
 as Thy servant, as one whose ear is open unto what Thou 
 dost enjoin, what Thou dost forbid. 
 
 CXXXII 
 
 Whatsoever place or post Thou assignest me, sooner will 
 I die a thousand deaths, as Socrates said, than desert it. 
 And where wilt Thou have me to be ? At Rome or Athens ? 
 At Thebes or on a desert island ? Only remember me there ! 
 Shouldst Thou send me where man cannot live as Nature 
 would have him, I will depart, not in disobedience to Thee, 
 but as though Thou wert sounding the signal for my retreat: 
 I am not deserting Thee — far be that from me ! I only per-i 
 ceive that thou needest me no longer. 
 
 CXXXIII 
 
 If you are in Gyaros, do not let your mind dwell upon life 
 at Rome, and all the pleasures it offered to you when living 
 there, and all that would attend your return. Rather be in- 
 tent on this — how he that lives in Gyaros may live in Gyaros 
 like a man of spirit. And if you are at Rome, do not let 
 your mind dwell upon the life at Athens, but study only how 
 to live at Rome. 
 
 Finally, in the room of all other pleasures put this — the 
 pleasure which springs from conscious obedience to God. 
 
 CXXXIV 
 
 To a good man there is no evil, either in life or death. 
 And if God supply not food, has He not, as a wise Comman- 
 der, sounded the signal for retreat and nothing more? I 
 obey, I follow — speaking good of my Commander, and prais- 
 ing His acts. For at His good pleasure I came ; and I depart 
 when it pleases Him ; and while I was yet alive that was my 
 work, to sing praises unto God ! 
 
 cxxxv 
 Reflect that the chief source of all evils to Man, and 
 of baseness and cowardice, is not death, but the fear o| 
 death. 
 
165 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 Against this fear then, I pray you_, harden yourself; 
 to this let all your reasonings, your exercises, your read- 
 ing tend. Then shall you know that thus alone are men set 
 free. 
 
 cxxxvi 
 
 He is free who lives as he wishes to live; to whom none 
 can do violence, none hinder or compel; whose impulses are 
 unimpeded, whose desires attain their purpose, who falls not 
 into what he would avoid. Who then v/ould live in error ? — 
 None. Who would live deceived and prone to fall, unjust, 
 intemperate, in abject whining at his lot? — None. Then 
 doth no wicked man live as he would, and therefore neither 
 is he free. 
 
 CXXXVII 
 
 Thus do the more cautious of travellers act. The road is 
 said to be beset by robbers. The traveller will not venture 
 alone, but awaits the companionship on the road of an am- 
 bassador, a qusestor or a proconsul. To him he attaches him- 
 self and thus passes by in safety. So doth the wise men in 
 the world. Many are the companies of robbers and tyrants, 
 many the storms, the straits, the losses of all a man holds 
 dearest. Whither shall he fly for refuge — how shall he pass 
 by unassailed? What companion on the road shall he await 
 for protection? Such and such a wealthy m^an, of consular 
 rank? And how shall I be profited, if he is stripped and 
 falls to lamentation and weeping? And how if my fellow- 
 traveller himself turns upon me and robs me? What am I 
 to do ? I will become a friend of Caesar's ! in his train none 
 will do me wrong! In the first place — O the indignities I 
 must endure to win distinction. O the multitude of hands 
 there will be to rob me ! And if I succeed, Gsesar too is but 
 a miortal. While should it come to pass that I offend him, 
 v/hither shall I flee from his presence? To the wilderness? 
 And may not fever await me there? What then is to be 
 done ? Cannot a fellow-traveller be found that is honest and 
 loyal, strong and secure against surprise? Thus doth the 
 wise man reason, considering that if he would pass through 
 in safety, he must attach himself unto God. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 167 
 
 CXXXVIII 
 
 "How understandest thou attach himself to God"f 
 
 That what God wills, he should will also; that what God 
 wills not, neither should he will. 
 
 " How then may this come to pass ? " 
 
 By considering the movements of God, and His adminis- 
 tration. 
 
 CXXXIX 
 
 And dost thou that hast received all from another's hands, 
 repine and blame the Giver, if He takes anything from thee ? 
 Why, who art thou, and to what end comest thou here ? v/as 
 it not He that brought thee into the world; v/as it not He 
 that made the Light m.anifest unto thee, that gave thee fellow- 
 workers, and senses, and the power to reason? And how 
 brought He thee into the world? Was it not as one born 
 to die ; as one bound to live out his earthly life in some small 
 tabernacle of flesh; to behold His administration, and for a 
 little while to share with Him in the mighty march of this 
 great Festival Procession? Now therefore that thou hast 
 beheld, while it was permitted thee, the Solemn Feast and 
 Assembly, wilt thou not cheerfully depart, when He sum- 
 mons thee forth, with adoration arid thanksgiving for v^hat 
 thou hast seen and heard ? — *' Nay, but I v/ould fain have 
 stayed longer at the Festival." — ^Ah, so would the mystics 
 fain have the rites prolonged ; so perchance would the crowd 
 at the Great Games fain behold more wrestlers still. But the 
 Solemn Assembly is over ! Come forth, depart with thanks- 
 giving and modesty — give place to others that must come into 
 being even as thyself. 
 
 CXL 
 
 Why art thou thus insatiable? why thus unreasonable? 
 why encumber the world? — "Aye, but I fain would have 
 my wife and children with me too."— What, are tl'^ey then 
 thine, and not His that gave them— His that m^ade thee? 
 Give up then that which is not thine own: yield it to One 
 v>^ho is better than thou. " Nay, but why did He bring one 
 into the world on these conditions ? "—If it suits thee not, 
 depart 1 He hath no need of a spectator who finds fault with 
 his lot! Them that will take part in the Feast he needeth— 
 
168 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 that will lift their voices with the rest, that men may applaud 
 the more, and exalt the Great Assembly in hymns and songs 
 of praise. But the wretched and the fearfiil He will not be 
 displeased to see absent from it : for when they were present, 
 thy did not behave as at a Feast, nor fulfil their proper office ; 
 but moaned as though in pain, and found fault with their 
 fate, their fortune and their companions; insensible to what 
 had fallen to their lot, insensible to the powers they had re- 
 ceived for a very different purpose — the powers of Magna- 
 nimity, Nobility of Heart, of Fortitude, of Freedom! 
 
 CXLI 
 
 Art thou then free? a man may say. So help me heaven, 
 I long and pray for freedom ! But I cannot look my masters 
 boldly in the face; I still value the poor body; I still set 
 much store on its preservation whole and sound. 
 
 But I can point thee out a free man, that thou mayest 
 be no more in search of an example. Diogenes was free. 
 How so? Not because he was of free parentage (for that, 
 indeed, was not the case), but because he was himself free. 
 He had cast away every handle whereby slavery might lay 
 hold upon him, nor was it possible for any to approach and 
 take holu of him to enslave him. All things sat loose upon 
 him — all things were to him attached by but slender ties. 
 Hadst thou seized upon his possessions, he would rather 
 have let them go than have followed thee for them — aye, 
 had it been even a limb, or mayhap his whole body; and 
 in like manner, relatives, friends, and country. For he 
 knew whence they came — from whose hands and on what 
 terms he had received them. His true forefathers, the Gods, 
 his true Country, he never would have abandoned; nor 
 would he have yielded to any man in obedience and submis- 
 sion to the one nor in cheerfully dying for the other. For 
 he was ever mindful that everything that comes to pass has 
 its source and origin there; being indeed brought about for 
 the weal of that his true Country, and directed by Him in 
 whose governance it is. 
 
 CXLII 
 
 Ponder on this— on these convictions, on these words: fix 
 thine eyes on these examples, if thou wouldst be free, if thou 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 169 
 
 hast thine heart set upon the matter according to its worth. 
 And what marvel if thou purchase so great a thing at so 
 great and high a price ? For the sake of this that men deem 
 liberty, some hang themselves, others cast themselves down 
 from the rock; aye, time has been when whole cities came 
 utterly to an end: while for the sake of the Freedom that is 
 true, and sure, and unassailable, dost thou grudge to God 
 what He gave, when He claims it? Wilt thou not study, as 
 Plato saith, to endure, not death alone, but torture, exile, 
 stripes — in a word, to render up all that is not thine own? 
 Else thou wilt be a slave amiid slaves, wert thou ten thousand 
 times a consul; aye, not a whit the less, though thou climb 
 the Palace steps. And thou shalt know how true is the 
 saying of Cleanthes, that though the words of philosophy 
 may run counter to the opinions of the v/orld, yet have they 
 reason on their side. 
 
 CXLIII 
 
 Asked how a man should best grieve his enemy, Epictetus 
 replied, " By setting himself to live the noblest life himself." 
 
 CXLIV 
 
 I am free, I am a friend of God, ready to render Him will- 
 ing obedience. Of all else I may set store by nothing — 
 neither by mine own body, nor possessions, nor office, nor 
 good report, nor in a word, aught else beside. For it is not 
 His Will, that I should so set store by these things. Had 
 it been His pleasure. He v/ould have placed my Good therein. 
 But now He hath not done so : therefore I cannot transgress 
 one jot of His commands. In everything hold fast to that 
 which is thy Good — but to all else (as far as is given thee) 
 within the measure of Reason only, contented with this alone. 
 Else thou wilt meet with failure, ill success, let and hindrance. 
 These are the Lav/s ordained of God — these are His Edicts; 
 these a man should expound and interpret; to these submit 
 himself, not to the laws of Masurius and Cassius.^® 
 
 CXLV 
 
 Remember that not the love of power and v/ealth sets us 
 under the heel of others, but even the love of tranquillity, 
 
 " Famous Roman jurists. 
 
170 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 of leisure, of change of scene — of learning in general, it 
 matters not what the outward thing may be — to set store by 
 it is to place thyself in subjection to another. Where is the 
 difference then between desiring to be a Senator, and desir- 
 ing not to be one: between thirsting for ofSce and thirsting 
 to be quit of it? Where is the difference between crying 
 Woe is me, I knozv not what to do, bound hand and foot as 
 I am to my books so that I cannot stir! and crying. Woe is 
 me, I have not time to read! As though a book were not as 
 much an outward thing and independent of the will, as 
 office and power and the receptions of the great. 
 
 Or what reason hast thou (tell me) for desiring to read? 
 For if thou aim at nothing beyond the mere delight of it, 
 or gaining some scrap of knowledge, thou art but a poor, 
 spiritless knave. But if thou desirest to study to its proper 
 end, what else is this than a life that flows on tranquil 
 and serene? And if thy reading secures thee not serenity, 
 what profits it ? — " Nay, but it doth secure it," quoth he, " and 
 that is why I repine at being deprived of it." — And what 
 serenity is this that lies at the mercy of every passer-by? 
 I say not at the mercy of the Emperor or Emperor's favour- 
 ite, but such as trembles at a raven's croak and piper's din, 
 a fever's touch or a thousand things of like sort! Whereas 
 the life serene has no more certain mark than this, that it 
 ever moves with constant unimpeded flow. 
 
 CXLVI 
 
 If thou hast put malice and evil speaking from thee, alto- 
 gether, or in some degree: if thou hast put away from thee 
 rashness, foulness of tongue, intemperance, sluggishness: if 
 thou art not moved by v/hat once moved thee, or in like 
 manner as thou once wert moved — then thou mayst celebrate 
 a daily festival, to-day because thou hast done well in this 
 matter, to-morrow in that. How much greater cause is here 
 for offering sacrifice, than if a man should become Consul 
 or Prefect? 
 
 CXLVI I 
 
 These things hast thou from thyself and from the Gods: 
 only remember who it is that giveth them-— to whom and for 
 what purpose they were given. Feeding thy soul on thoughts 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 171 
 
 like these, dost thou debate in what place happiness awaits 
 thee? in vv'hat place thou shalt do God's pleasure? Are not 
 the Gods nigh unto all places alike; see they not alike what 
 everywhere comes to pass? 
 
 CXLVIII 
 
 To each man God hath granted this inward freedom. 
 These are the principles that in a house create love, 'in a 
 city concord, among nations peace, teaching a man gratitude 
 towards .God and cheerful confidence, v/herever he may be, 
 in dealing with outward things that he knows are neither 
 his nor worth striving after. 
 
 CXLIX 
 
 If you seek Truth, you will not seek to gain a victory by 
 every possible micans; and when you have found Truth, 
 you need not fear being defeated. 
 
 CL 
 
 What foolish talk is this? how can I any longer lay 
 claim to right principles, if I am not content with being 
 what I am, but am all aflutter about what I ami supposed 
 to be? 
 
 CLI 
 
 God hath made all things in the world, nay, the world it- 
 self, free from hindrance and perfect, and its parts for the 
 use of the whole. No other creature is capable of compre- 
 hending His administration thereof; but the reasonable be- 
 ing Man possesses faculties for the consideration of all these 
 things — not only that he is himself a part, but what part 
 he is, and how it is meet that the parts should give place to 
 the whole. Nor is this all. Being naturally constituted 
 noble, magnanimous, and free, he sees that the things which 
 surround him are of tvv^o kinds. Some are free from hin- 
 drance and in the pov^^er of the will. Others are subject to 
 hindrance, and depend on the will of other men. If then he 
 place his ov/n good, his own best interest, only in that v/hich 
 is free from hindrance and in his power, he will be free, 
 tranquil, happ}^ unharmed, noble-hearted and pious; giving 
 thanks for all things unto God, findinp- fault with nothing 
 that comes to pass, laying no charge against anything. 
 
172 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 Whereas if he place his good in outward things, depending 
 not on the will, he must perforce be subject to hindrance 
 and restraint, the slave of those that have power over the 
 things he desires and fears ; he must perforce be impious, as 
 deeming himself injured at the hands of God; he must be 
 unjust, as ever prone to claim more than his due; he must 
 perforce be of a mean and abject spirit. 
 
 CLII 
 
 Whom then shall I yet fear? the lords of the Bed-chamber, 
 lest they should shut me out? If they find me desirous of 
 entering in, let them shut me out, if they will. 
 
 " Then why comest thou to the door ? " 
 
 Because I think it meet and right, so long as the Play 
 lasts, to take part therein. 
 
 " In what sense art thou then shut out ? " 
 
 Because, unless I am admitted, it is not my will to enter: 
 on the contrary, my will is simply that which comes to pass. 
 For I esteem what God wills better than what I will. To 
 Him will I cleave as His minister and attendant; having the 
 same movements, the sam.e desires, in a word the same Will 
 as He. There is no such thing as being shut out for me, but 
 only for them that would force their way in. 
 
 CLIII 
 
 But what says Socrates? — "One man finds pleasure in 
 improving his land, another his horses. My pleasure lies 
 in seeing that I myself grow better day by day." 
 
 CLIV 
 
 The dress is suited to the craft; the craftsman takes his 
 name from the craft, not from the dress. For this reason 
 Euphrates was right in saying, " I long endeavoured to con- 
 ceal my following the philosophic life; and this profited me 
 much. In the first place, I knew that what I did aright, 
 I did not for the sake of lookers-on, but for my own. I ate 
 aright — unto myself; I kept the even tenor of my walk, my 
 glance composed and serene — all unto myself and unto God. 
 Then as I fought alone, I was alone in peril. If I did any- 
 thing amiss or shameful, the cause of Philosophy was not 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 173 
 
 in me endangered; nor did I v/rong the multitude by trans- 
 gressing as a professed philosopher. Wherefore those that 
 knew not my purpose marvelled how it came about, that 
 ;ivhilst all my life and conversation was passed with philos- 
 ophers without exception, I was yet none myself. And what 
 harm that the philosopher should be known by his acts, in- 
 stead of by mere outward signs and symbols ? " 
 
 CLV 
 
 First study to conceal what thou art; seek wisdom a little 
 while unto thyself. Thus grows the fruit; first, the seed 
 must be buried in the earth for a little space; there it must 
 be hid and slowly grow, th.at it may reach maturity. But 
 if it produce the ear before the jointed stalk, it is imperfect 
 — a thing from the garden of Adonis." Such a sorry growth 
 art thou ; thou hast blossomed too soon : the winter cold will 
 wither thee away ! 
 
 CLVI 
 
 First of all, condemn the life thou art now leading: but 
 when thou hast condemned it, do not despair of thyself — ^be 
 not like them^ of mean spirit, who once they have yielded, 
 abandon themselves entirely and as it were allow the torrent 
 to sweep them away. No; learn what the wrestling masters 
 do. Has the boy fallen ? " Rise," they say, " wrestle again, 
 till thy strength come to thee." Even thus should it be with 
 thee. For know that there is nothing more tractable than 
 the human soul. It needs but to will, and the thing is done ; 
 the soul is set upon the right path : as on the contrary it needs 
 but to nod over the task, and all is lost. For ruin and re- 
 covery alike are from within. 
 
 CLVII 
 
 It is the critical moment that shows the man. So when 
 the crisis is upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of 
 wrestlers, has matched you with a rough and stalwart antag- 
 onist. — " To what end ? " you ask. That you may prove the 
 victor at the Great Games. Yet without toil and sweat 
 this may not be ! 
 
 1' Potted plants of forced growth carried in the processions in honor of 
 Adonis. 
 
174 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 CLVIII 
 
 I£ thou wouldst make progress, be content to seem foolish/ 
 and void of understanding with respect to outward things,' 
 Care not to be thought to know anything. If any shoul(j 
 make account of thee, distrust thyself. 
 
 CLIX 
 
 Remember that in life thou shouldst order thy conduct as 
 at a banquet. Has any dish that is being served reached 
 thee? Stretch forth thy hand and help thyself modestly. 
 Doth it pass thee by ? Seek not to detain it. Has it not yet 
 come? Send not forth thy desire to meet it, but wait until 
 it reaches thee. Deal thus with children, thus with wife; 
 thus with office, thus with wealth — and one day thou wilt be 
 meet to share the Banquets of the Gods. But if thou dost 
 not so much as touch that which is placed before thee, but 
 despisest it, then shalt thou not only share the Banquets of 
 the Gods, but their Empire also. 
 
 CLX 
 
 Remember that thou art an actor in a play, and of such 
 sort as the Author chooses, whether long or short. If it be 
 his good pleasure to assign thee the part of a beggar, a 
 ruler, or a simple citizen, thine it is to play it fitly. For 
 thy business is to act the part assigned thee, well : to choose 
 it, is another's. 
 
 CLXI 
 
 Keep death and exile daily before thine eyes, with all else 
 that men deem terrible, but more especially Death. Then 
 wilt thou never think a mean thought, nor covet anything 
 beyond measure. 
 
 CLXII 
 
 As a mark is not set up in order to be missed, so neither 
 is such a thing as natural evil produced in the World. 
 
 CLXIII 
 
 Piety towards the Goids, be sure^ consists chiefly in think- 
 ing rightly concerning them — that tliey are, and that they 
 govern the Universe with goodness and justice; and that 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 175 
 
 thou thyself art appointed to obey them, and to submit under 
 all circum.stances that arise; acquiescing cheerfully in what- 
 ever may happen, sure that it is brought to pass and ac- 
 complished by the most Perfect Understanding. Thus thou 
 "wilt never find fault with the Gods, nor charge them with 
 neglecting thee. 
 
 CLXIV 
 
 Lose no time in setting before you a certain stamp of 
 character and behaviour to observe both when by yourself 
 and in company with others. Let silence be your general 
 rule; or say only what is necessary and in few words. We 
 shall, hov/ever, when occasion demands, enter into discourse 
 sparingly, avoiding such common topics as gladiators, horse- 
 races, athletes; and the perpetual talk about food and drink. 
 Above all avoid speaking of persons, either in the way of 
 praise or blame, or comparison. 
 
 If you can, win over the conversation of your company 
 to what it should be by your own. But if you should 
 find yourself cut off without escape among strangers and 
 aliens, be silent. 
 
 CLXV 
 
 Laughter should not be much, nor frequent, nor unre- 
 strained. 
 
 CLXVI 
 
 Refuse altogether to take an oath if you can, if not, as 
 
 far as miay be. 
 
 CLXVII 
 
 Banquets of the unlearned and of them that are without, 
 avoid. But if you have occasion to take part in them, let 
 not your attention be relaxed for a moment, lest you slip 
 after all into evil ways. For you may rest assured that be a 
 man ever so pure himself^ he cannot escape defilement if his 
 associates are impure. 
 
 CLXVIII 
 
 Take what relates to the body as far as the bare use war- 
 rants — as m.eat, drink, raiment, house and servants. But 
 all that makes for show and luxury reject. 
 
176 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 CLXIX 
 
 If you are told that such an one speaks ill of you, make/ 
 no defence against what was said, but answer, He surely 
 knew not my other faults, else he would not have mentioned 
 these only ! / 
 
 CLXX I 
 
 When you visit any of those in power, bethink yourself 
 that you will not find him in : that you may not be admitted : 
 that the door may be shut in your face; that he may not 
 concern himself about you. If with all this, it is your duty 
 to go, bear what happens, and never say to yourself. It was 
 not worth the trouble ! For that would smack of the foolish 
 and unlearned who suffer outward things to touch them. 
 
 CLXXI 
 
 In company avoid frequent and undue talk about your 
 own actions and dangers. However pleasant it may be to 
 you to enlarge upon the risks you have run, others may not 
 find such pleasure in listening to your adventures. Avoid 
 provoking laughter also: it is a habit from which one easily 
 slides into the v\^ays of the foolish, and apt to diminish the 
 respect which your neighbours feel for you. To border on 
 coarse talk is also dangerous. On such occasions, if a con- 
 venient opportunity offer, rebuke the speaker. If not, at least 
 by relapsing into silence, colouring, and looking annoyed, 
 show that you are displeased with the subject. 
 
 CLXXII 
 
 When you have decided that a thing ought to be done, 
 and are doing it, never shun being seen doing it, even though 
 the multitude should be likely to judge the matter amiss. 
 For if you are not acting rightly, shun the act itself; if 
 rightly, however, why fear misplaced censure? 
 
 CLXXIII 
 
 It stamps a man of mean capacity to spend much time on 
 the things of the body, as to be long over bodily exercises, 
 long over eating, long over drinking, long over other bodily 
 functions. Rather should these things take the second place, 
 while all your care is directed to the understanding. 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTSTUS 177 
 
 CLXXIV 
 
 Everything has two handles, one by which it may be borne, 
 the other by which it may not. If your brother sin against 
 you lay not hold of it by the handle of his injustice, for 
 by that it ma}^ not be borne: but rather by this, that he is 
 your brother, the comrade of your youth; and thus you will 
 lay hold on it so that it may be borne. 
 
 CLXXV 
 
 Never call yourself a Philosopher nor talk much among 
 the unlearned about Principles, but do that which follov/s 
 from them. Thus at a banquet, do not discuss how people 
 ought to eat ; but eat as you ought. Remember that Socrates 
 thus entirely avoided ostentation. Men would come to him 
 desiring to be recommended to philosophers, and he would 
 conduct them thither himself — so well did he bear being 
 overlooked. Accordingly if any talk concerning principles 
 should arise among the unlearned, be you for the most part 
 silent. For you run great risk of spewing up what you have 
 ill digested. And when a man tells you that you know noth- 
 ing and you are not nettled at it, then you may be sure that 
 you have begun the work. 
 
 CLXXVI 
 
 When you have brought yourself to supply the needs o£ 
 the body at small cost, do not pique yourself on that, nor if 
 you drink only water, keep saying on each occasion, / drink 
 water ! And if you ever want to practise endurance and toil, 
 tlo so unto yourself and not unto others — do not em.brace 
 statues !^ 
 
 CLXXVII 
 
 When a man prides himself on being able to understand 
 and interpret the writings of Chrysippus,^^ say to yourself : — 
 
 If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this fellow 
 would have had nothing to be proud of. But what is it that 
 / desire ? To understand Nature, and to follow her ! Ac- 
 cordingly I ask who is the Interpreter. On hearing that it 
 is Chrysippus, I go to him. But it seems I do not understand 
 what he wrote. So I seek one to interpret that. So far there 
 
 ^ As Diogenes is said to have done in winter. 
 
 ^ The so-called " Second Founder " of the Stoics. 
 
178 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 is nothing to pride myself upon. But when I have found 
 my interpreter, v/haj remains is to put in practice his in- 
 structions. This itself is the only thing to be proud of. 
 But if I admire the interpretation and that alone, what else 
 have I turned out but a mere commentator instead of a 
 lover of wisdom? — except indeed that I happen to be inter- 
 preting Chrysippus instead of Homer. So when any one 
 says to me, Prithee, read me Chrysippus, I am. more inclined 
 to blush, when I cannot show my deeds to be in harmony and 
 accordance with his sayings. 
 
 CLXXVIII 
 
 At feasts, remember that you are entertaining two guests, 
 body and soul. What you give to the body, you presentW, 
 lose; what you give to the soul, you keep for ever. 
 
 CLXXIX 
 
 At meals see to it that those who serve be not more in 
 number than those who are served. It is absurd for a crowd 
 of persons to be dancing attendance on half a dozen chairs. 
 
 CLXXX 
 
 It is best to share with j^our attendants what is going for- 
 ward, both in the labour of preparation and in the enjoyment 
 of the feast itself. If such a thing be difficult at the time, 
 recollect that you who are not weary are being served by 
 those that are, you who are eating and drinking by those 
 who do neither ; you who are talking by those who are silent ; 
 you who are at ease by those who are under constraint. Thus 
 no sudden wrath will betray you into unreasonable conduct^ 
 nor will you behave harshly by irritating anothen 
 
 CLXXXI 
 
 When Xanthippe was chiding Socrates for making scanty 
 preparation for entertaining his friends, he answered : — " If 
 they are friends of ours, they will not care for that; if they 
 are not, we shall care nothing for them ! " 
 
 CLXXXI I 
 
 Asked, Who is the rich man? Epictetus replied, "He who 
 is content" 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 179 
 
 CLXXXIII 
 
 Favorinus^" tells us how Epictetus would also say that there 
 were two faults far graver and fouler than any others — 
 inability to bear, and inability to forbear, when we neither 
 patiently bear the blows that must be borne, nor abstain 
 from the things and the pleasures we ought to abstain from. 
 " So," he went on, " if a man will only have these two words 
 at heart, and heed them carefully by ruling and watching 
 over himself, he wall for the most part fall into no sin, and 
 his life will be tranquil and serene." He meant the words 
 *Avs^/ou xat oTza'^ou — "Bear and Forbear." 
 
 CLXXXIV 
 
 On all occasions these thoughts should be at hand:— 
 
 Lead me, Gcd, and Thou, O Destiny, "^"^ 
 Be what it may the goal appointed me. 
 Bravely Fll follow; nay, and if I would noiy 
 Pd prove a coward, yet must follow still!'* 
 
 Again : 
 
 Who to Necessity doth bow aright^ 
 Is learn' d in wisdom- and the things of God. 
 Once more: — 
 
 Crito, if this be God's will, so let it be. As for me, Anytus and 
 Melitus can indeed put me to death, but injure me, never I 
 
 CLXXXV 
 
 We shall then be like Socrates, when we can indite hymns 
 of praise to the Gods in prison. 
 
 CLXXXVI 
 
 It is hard to combine and unite these two qualities, the 
 carefulness of one who is affected by circmnstances, and the 
 intrepidity of one who heeds them not. But it is not impos- 
 sible: else were happiness also impossible. We should act 
 as we do in sea-faring. 
 
 " What can I do ? " — Choose the master, the crev/, the day, 
 the opportunity. Then comes a sudden storm. What mat- 
 ters it to me ? my part has been fully done. The matter is in 
 
 ^ A Roman orator and sophist. 
 »» These verses are by Cleanthes, the sttccessor of Zeno as leader of th6 
 Stoics, and author of the Hymn printed in Appendix B. 
 
,^0 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 ths hands of another — the Master of the ship. The ship is 
 foundering. What then have I to do? I do the only thing 
 that remains to me — to be drowned without fear, without a 
 cry, without upbraiding God, but knowing that what has 
 been born must likewise perish. For I am not Eternity, but 
 a human being, — a part of the v/hole, as an hour is part of 
 the day. I must come like the hour, and like the hour must 
 pass! 
 
 CLXXXVII 
 
 And now we are sending you to Rome to spy out the land ; 
 but none send a coward as such a spy, that, if he hear but 
 a noise and see a shadow moving anywhere, loses his wits 
 and comes flying to say, The enemy are upon us! 
 
 So if you go now, and come and tell us : " Everything at 
 Rome is terrible: Death is terrible. Exile is terrible. Slander 
 is terrible, Want is terrible ; Fly comrades ! the enemy are 
 upon us ! we shall reply, Get you gone, and prophesy to your- 
 self! we have but erred in sending such a spy as you. 
 Diogenes, who was sent as a spy long before you, brought 
 us back another report than this. He says that Death is 
 no evil; for it need not even bring shame with it He says 
 that Fame is but the empty noise of madmen. And what 
 report did this spy bring us of Pain, what of Pleasure, what 
 of Want? That to be clothed in sackcloth is better than 
 any purple robe; that sleeping on the bare ground is the 
 softest couch; and in proof of each assertion he points to 
 his own courage, constancy, and freedom ; to his own healthy 
 and muscular fram.e. "There is no enemy near/' he cries, 
 " all is perfect peace ! " 
 
 CLXXXVIII 
 
 If a man has this peace — not the peace proclaimed by 
 Csesar (how indeed should he have it to proclaim?) nay, but 
 the peace proclaimed by God through reason, will not that 
 suffice him when alone, when he beholds and reflects: — Now 
 can no evil happen unto me ; for me there is no robber, for me 
 no earthquake ; all things are full of peace, full of tranquillity; 
 neither highway nor city nor gathering of men, neither neigh- 
 bour nor comrade can do me hurt. Another supplies my 
 food, whose care it is; another my raiment, another hath 
 
THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 181 
 
 givem me perceptions of sense and primary conceptions. And 
 when He supplies my necessities no more, it is that 
 He is sounding the retreat, that He hath opened, the 
 <loor, and is saying to thee. Come ! — Whither ? To nought 
 that thou needest fear, but to the friendly kindred ele- 
 ments whence tho didst spring. Whatsoever of fire is in 
 thee, unto fire shall return ; whatsoever of earth, unto earth ; 
 of spirit, unto spirit; of water, unto water. There is no 
 Hades, no fabled rivers of Sighs, of Lamentation, or of Fire : 
 but all things are full of Beings spiritual and divine. With 
 thoughts like these, beholding the Sun, Moon, and Stars, 
 enjoying earth and sea, a man is neither helpless nor alone ! 
 
 CLXXXIX 
 
 What wouldst thou be found doing when overtaken by 
 Death? If I might choose^ I would be found doing some 
 deed of true humanity, of wide import, beneficent and noble. 
 But if I may not be found engaged in aught so lofty, let 
 me hope at least for this — what none may hinder, what is 
 surely in my power — that I may be found raising up in my- 
 self that which had fallen ; learning to deal more wisely with 
 the things of sense; working out my own tranquillity, and 
 thus rendering that which is its due to every relation of 
 life. . . . 
 
 If death surprise me thus employed, it is enough if I can 
 stretch forth my hands to God and say, " The faculties which 
 I received at Thy hands for apprehending this thine Adm.in- 
 istration, I have not neglected. As far as in me lay, I have 
 done Thee no dishonour. Behold how I have used the senses, 
 the primary conceptions which Thou gavest me. Have I 
 ever laid anything to Thy charge? Have I ever murmured 
 at aught that came to pass, or wished it otherwise? Have 
 I in anything transgressed the relations of life? For that 
 Thou didst beget me, I thank Thee for that Thou hast given : 
 for the time during which I have used the things that were 
 Thine, it suffices me. Take them back and place them where- 
 ever Thou wilt ! They were all Thine, and Thou gavest them 
 me." — If a man depart thus minded, is it not enough? What 
 life is fairer or more nobie^ what end happier than his ? 
 
(APPENDIX A) 
 
 ATTRIBUTED TO EPICTETUS 
 
 I 
 
 A LIFE entangled with Fortune is like a torrent. It is turbulent 
 and muddy; hard to pass and masterful of mood: noisy and of 
 brief continuance. 
 
 II 
 
 The soul that companies with Virtue is like an ever-flowing 
 source. It is a pure, clear, and wholesome draught; sweet, rich, 
 and generous of its store; that injures not, neither destroys. 
 
 Ill 
 
 It is a shame that one who sweetens his drink with the gifts 
 of the bee, should embitter God's gift Reason with vice. 
 
 IV 
 
 Crows pick out the eyes of the dead, when the dead have no 
 longer need of them; but flatterers mar the soul of the living, 
 and her eyes they blind. 
 
 v 
 
 Keep neither a blunt knife nor an ill-disciplined looseness of 
 tongue. 
 
 VI 
 
 Nature hath given men one tongue but two ears, that we may 
 hear from others twice as much as we speak. 
 
 VII 
 
 Do not give sentence in another tribunal till you have been 
 yourself judged in the tribunal of Justice. 
 
 182 
 
APPENDIX A 183 
 
 VIII 
 
 It is shameful for a Judge to be judged by others. 
 
 IX 
 
 Give me by all means the shorter and nobler life, instead of 
 one that is longer but of less account ! 
 
 X 
 
 Freedom is the name of virtue : Slavery, of vice. . . . None is 
 a slave whose acts are free. 
 
 XI 
 
 Of pleasures, those which occur most rarely give the most 
 delight. 
 
 XII 
 
 Exceed due measure, and the most delightful things become 
 the least delightful. 
 
 XIII 
 
 The anger of an ape — the threat of a flatterer :— these deserve 
 equal regard. 
 
 XIV 
 
 Chastise thy passions that they avenge not themselves upon 
 thee. 
 
 XV 
 
 No man is free who is not master of himself. 
 
 XVI 
 
 A ship should not ride on a single anchor, nor life on a single 
 hope. 
 
 XVII 
 
 Fortify th3''self with contentment: that is an impregnable 
 stronghold. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 No man who is a lover of mone}'-, of pleasure, of glory, is 
 likewise a lover of Men; but only he that is a lover of what- 
 soever things are fair and good. 
 
 XIX 
 
 Think of God more often than thou breathest. 
 
184 THE GOLDEN SAYINGS OF EPICTETUS 
 
 XX 
 
 Choose the life that is noblest, for custom can make it sweet 
 to thee. 
 
 XXI 
 
 Let thy speech of God be renewed day by day, aye, rather than 
 thy meat and drink. 
 
 XXII 
 
 Even as the Sun doth not wait for prayers and incantations to 
 rise, but shines forth and is welcomed by all: so thou also wait 
 not for clapping of hands and shouts and praise to do thy duty; 
 nay, do good of thine own accord, and thou wilt be loved like 
 the Sun. 
 
 XXIII 
 
 Let no man think that he is loved by any who loveth none. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 If thou rememberest that God standeth by to behold and visit 
 all that thou doest; whether in the body or in the soul, thou 
 surely wilt not err in any prayer or deed; and thou shalt have 
 God to dwell with thee. 
 
 Note. — Schweighseuser's great edition collects i8i fragments attributed 
 to Epictetus, of which but a few are certainly genuine. Some (as xxi., 
 xxiv., above) bear the stamp of Pythagorean origin; others, though changed 
 in form, may well be based upon Epictetean sayings. Most have been pre- 
 served in the Anthology of John of Stobi (Stobseus), a Byzantine collector, 
 of whom scarcely anything is known but that he probably wrote towards 
 the end of the fifth century, and made his vast body of extracts from more 
 than five hundred authors for his son's u^e. The best examination of the 
 authenticity of the Fragm.ents is QucBstiones Epicteteae, by R. Asmus, 
 1888. The above selection includes some ©f doubtful origin but intrinsic 
 interest. — Crossley, 
 
(APPENDIX B) 
 
 THE 
 
 HYMN OF CLEANTHES 
 
 Chiefest glory of deathless Gods, Almighty for ever, 
 
 Sovereign of Nature that rulest by law, what Name shall we 
 
 give Thee? — 
 Blessed be Thou! for on Thee should call all things that are 
 
 mortal. 
 For that we are Thine offspring; nay, all that in myriad motion 
 Lives for its day on the earth bears one impress— Thy likeness 
 
 — upon it. 
 Wherefore my song is of Thee, and I hymn Thy power for ever. 
 
 Lo, the vast orb of the Worlds, round the Earth evermore as 
 
 it rolleth. 
 Feels Thee its Ruler and Guide, and owns Thy lordship 
 
 rejoicing. 
 Aye, for Thy conquering hands have a servant of living fire — 
 Sharp is the bolt! — v/here it falls. Nature shrinks at the shock 
 
 and doth shudder. 
 Thus Thou directest the Word universal that pulses through all 
 
 things. 
 Mingling its life with Lights that are great and Lights that are 
 
 lesser. 
 E'en as beseemeth its birth, High King through ages unending. 
 
 Nought Is done that is done without Thee in the earth or the 
 
 waters 
 Or in the heights of heaven, save the deed of the fool and the 
 
 sinner. 
 
 185 
 
186 THE HYMN OF CLEANTHES 
 
 Thou canst make rough things smooth; at Thy Voice, lo, jarring 
 
 disorder 
 Moveth to music, and Love is born where hatred abounded. 
 Thus hast Thou fitted alike things good and things evil together, 
 That over all might reign one Reason, supreme and eternal; 
 Though thereunto the hearts of the wicked be hardened and 
 
 heedless — 
 Woe unto them! — for while ever their hands are grasping at 
 
 good things. 
 Blind are their eyes, yea, stopped are their ears to God's Law 
 
 universal. 
 Calling through wise obedience to live the life that is noble. 
 This they mark not, but heedless of right, turn each to his 
 
 own way. 
 Here, a heart fired with ambition, in strife and straining 
 
 unhallowed ; 
 There, thrusting honour aside, fast set upon getting and gaining; 
 Others again given over to lusts and dissolute softness, 
 y/orking never God's Law, but that which warreth upon it. 
 
 Nay, but, O Giver of all things good, whose home is the dark 
 
 cloud. 
 Thou that wieldest Heaven's bolt, save men from their ignorance 
 
 grievous ; 
 Scatter its night from their souls, and grant them to come to 
 
 that Wisdom 
 Wherewithal, sistered with Justice, Thou rulest and governest 
 
 all things; 
 That we, honoured by Thee, may requite Thee with worship and 
 
 honour. 
 Evermore praising thy works, as is meet for men that shall 
 
 perish ; 
 Seeing that none, be he mortal or God, hath privilege nobler 
 Than without stint, without stay, to extol Thy Law universal. 
 
INDEX FOR REFERENCE 
 
 ^cAwsiV^rrEpicteteae Philosophiae Monumenta, Sch-.veighffiuser, Lips. 1799. 
 S'crien^/^Epicteti Dissertationes, H. Schenkl, Ed. Minor, Lips. (Teubner), 
 398. 
 /lj«:M5=Qusstiones Epicteteae, R. Asmus, Friburg, 1888. 
 
 I. Arrian, Discourses i. 16, 15-19 
 
 II. ih. ii. 23, 36-39 
 
 III. ih. iv. 4, 26 
 
 IV. ib. iv. 12, 11-12 
 
 V. z&. iii. 22, 29 
 
 VI. i&. i. 7, 10 
 
 VII. i&. iv. 6, 20 
 VIIL tfe. i. 2, 11-18 
 
 IX. j&. i. 3, 1-6 
 
 X. Fragment, quoted by M. Anto- 
 ninus, iv. 41; Schweigh. clxxvi. 
 
 XI. Arrian, Disc. i. 18, 15 
 
 XII. ih. i. 29, 21 
 
 XIII. ih. i. 6, 19-22 
 
 XIV. ih. i. 6, 23-29 
 
 XV. ih. i. 9, I 
 
 XVI. ih. i. 9, 4-7 
 
 XVII. ih. i. 9, 10-15 
 
 XVIII. ih. i. 9, 16-17 
 
 XIX. ih. i. 9, 18-22 
 
 XX. ih. i. 6, 37-43 ^ 
 
 XXI. i&. i. 9, 22 
 
 XXII. ih. i. 17, 27-28 
 
 XXIII. ih. i. s, 3-5 
 
 XXIV. ih. i. 10, I- ID (abbreviated) 
 
 XXV. ih. i. 9, 27-28 
 
 XXVI. i&. i. 12, 15-16 
 
 XXVII. 1-&. iv. 3, I 
 
 XXVIII. t&. i. 12, 1-3 
 
 XXIX. j&. i. 12, 7-12 
 
 XXX. Fragment (from "'* Memoirs 
 of Epict."); Schweigh. Ixxii.; 
 Schenkl, 16 
 
 XXXI. Arrian, Disc. i. 12, 20-21 
 
 XXXII. ih. i. 12, 22-23 
 
 XXXIII. i&. i. 12, 26-27 
 
 XXXIV. ih. I 13 
 
 XXXV. Fragment (Stobs:us), 
 Schweigh. xv. ; Schenkl, 17 
 
 XXXVI. Arrian, Disc. i. 14, 1-6 
 
 XXXVII. i&. i. 14, 12-17 
 
 XXXVIII. ih. i. 15, 5 
 
 XXXIX. ih. i. IS, 6-8 
 XL. ih. i. 19, 19-23 
 
 XLI. Fragment, Schweigh. xlii.; 
 
 Schenkl, Gn. Epict. St oh. 36 
 XLII.i Arrian, Disc i. 19, 24-25 
 XLIII. ih. i. 19, 26-29 
 XLIV. ib. i. 24, 20. 
 XLV. ih. i. 25, 18-22 
 XLVI. ih. 1. 26, 15-16 
 XLVII. ib. L 26, 17-18 
 XLVIII. ib. ii. 2, 8-9 
 XLIX. ib. i. 29, 46-49 
 L. Fragment (Stobssus); Schweigh, vii, 
 LI. Arrian, Di^c. i. 30, 1-4 
 LII. ih. i. 29, 16-18 
 LIII. ib. iii. i, 36-38 
 LIV. ib. ii. 2, 17 
 LV. ib. ii. I, 8 and 13 
 LVI. i&. ii. 5, 24-29 
 LVII. ih. ii. 3, 1-2 
 LVIII. 2&. ii. 7, 10-14 
 LIX. {&. ii. 8, 1-3 
 LX. t&. ii. 8, 9-14 
 LXI. i&. ii. 8, 15-23 and 27-28 
 LXII. Fragment (Stobsus) ; 
 
 Schweigh. Ivii. 
 LXIII. ib. ii. 12, 3-4 
 LXIV. ib. ii. 12, 14-25 
 LXV. Fragment; Schweigh, clxr. 
 
 (v. Asmus, p. 20) 
 
 187 
 
INDEX FOR REFERENCE 
 
 LXVI. Arrian, Disc. ii. 14, 10-13 
 
 LXVII. ib. ii. 14, 19-23 
 
 LXVIII. ib. ii. 14, 23-29 
 
 LXIX. ib. ii. 15, 13-14 
 
 LXX. ib. ii. 165 32-34 
 
 LXXI. ib. ii. 16, 41-47 
 
 LXXII. ib. ii. 17, i 
 
 LXXIII. ib. ii. 17, 29-33 
 
 LXXIV. Fragment (M. Antoninus) ; 
 Schweigh. clxxviii. ; SchenkI, 28 
 
 LXXV. Arrian, Disc. ii. 18, 5-12 
 
 LXX VI. ib. ii. 18, 19 
 
 LXX VII, ib. ii. 18, 27-29 
 
 LXX VIII. ib. ii. 19, 23-28 
 
 LXXIX. Manual, 37 
 
 LXXX. Arrian, Disc. ii. 21, 11-16 
 
 LXXXI. i&. ii. 24 (abbreviated) 
 
 LXXXIL ib. ii. 22, 24-27, and 29-30 
 
 LXXXIII. ib. iii. 22, 105 
 
 LXXXI V. ib. iii. 5, /-n 
 
 LXXXV. ib. iii. 5, 16-18 (abbrevi- 
 ated) 
 
 LXXXVL ib. iii. 7, 27-28 
 
 LXXXVII, ib. iii. 3, i 
 
 LXXXVIII. Fragment (Stobssus) ; 
 Schweigh. Ixvii. ; SchenkI, 5 
 
 LXXXIX. Arrian, Disc, iii, 3, 3-4 
 
 XC. ib. iii. 6, 8 
 
 XCI. ib. iii. 7, 30-36 (abbreviated) 
 
 XCII. ib. iii. 8, 5-6 
 
 XCIII. ib. iii. 9, 1-14 (abbreviated) 
 
 XCIV. lb. iii. 9, 16-18 
 
 XCV. it', iii. 9, 21-22 
 
 XCVI. Fragment (Stobseus) ; 
 Schweigh. Ixviii. 
 
 XCVII. Arrian, Disc. iii. 10, 19-20 
 
 XCVIII. ib. iii. 13, 6-8 
 
 XCIX. ib. iii. 16, 1-3 
 
 C. ib. iii. 12, 16-17 
 
 CI. ib. iii. 13, 21 
 
 CII. ib. iii. 13, 23 
 
 cm. ib. iii. 14, 1-3 
 
 CIV. ib. iii. 15, 2-7 and g-f2 
 
 CV. i&. iii. 19, 6 
 
 CVI. *&. iii. 20, 9-12 (abbreviated) 
 
 CVII. ih. iii. 16, 9-10 
 
 CVIII. t&. iii 21, 17-20 
 
 CIX. *■&. iii. 21, 23 
 
 ex. z&. iii. 22, 1-8 
 
 C^. j&. iii. a J, 14-1^ 
 
 CXII. t&. iii. 22, 21 
 
 CXIII. ib. iii. 22, 23-2^, 
 
 CXIV. ib. iii. 22, 45-49 
 
 CXV. t&. iii. 22, 53 
 
 CXVI. i&. iii. 22, 67-69 
 
 CXVII. ib. iii. 22, 83-85 
 
 CXVIII. ib. iii. 22, 86-89 
 
 CXIX. iJ'. iii. 22, 94-96 
 
 CXX. i&. iii. 23, 27-28 
 
 CXXI. ib. iii. 23, 30-32 
 
 CXXII. ib. iii. 24, 2 
 
 CXXIII. ib. iii. 24, 9-1 1 
 
 CXXIV. ib. iii. 24, 15-16 
 
 CXXV. ib. iii. 24, 31-32 and 34-35 
 
 CXX VI. ib. iii. 24, 50-53 (abbrevi- 
 ated) 
 
 CXXVII. ib. iii. 24, 63 
 
 CXXVIII. ib. iii. 24, 64 
 
 CXXIX. ib. iii. 24, 83 
 
 CXXX. ib. iii. 24, 86 and 89-94 
 (abbreviated) 
 
 CXXXI. ib. iii. 24, 95-98 
 
 CXXXII. ib. iii, 24, 99-101 
 
 CXXXIII. ib. iii. 24, 109-110 
 
 CXXXIV. ib. iii. 26, 28-30 
 
 CXXXV. ib. iii. 26, 38-39 
 
 CXXX VI. ib. iv. I, 1-3 
 
 CXXXVII. ib. iv. I, 91-98 
 
 CXXXVIIL ib. iv. I, 99-100 
 
 CXXXIX. ib. iv. I, 103-106 
 
 CXL. {b. iv. I, 106-109 
 
 CXLI. ib. iv. I, 151-155 
 
 CXLII. ib. iv. I, 170-173 
 
 CXLIII. Fragment (Antonius Mo- 
 nachus) ; Schweigh. cxxx. 
 
 CXLIV. Arrian, Disc. iv. 3, 9-12 
 
 CXLV. ib. iv. 4, 1-5 
 
 CXLVI, ib. iv. 4, 46-47 
 
 CXLVII. «•&. iv. 4, 47-48 
 
 CXLVIIL «■&. iv. 5, 34-35 
 
 CXLIX. Fragment: Schweigh. 
 xxxix,; SchenkI, Gn. Epict. Stoh 
 29 
 
 CL. Arrian, Disc. iv. 6, 24 
 
 CLI. *&. iv. 7, 6-1 1 
 
 CLII. »&. iv. 7, 19-20 
 
 CLIII. •:&. iii. S» I4 
 
 CLIV. t&. iv. 8, 16-30 
 
 CLV. ib. iv. 8, 35-37 
 
 GLVL »&. iv. 9> 14-1S 
 
INDEX FOR REFERENCE 
 
 189 
 
 CLVII. Arrian, Disc. i. 23, 1-2 
 
 CLVIII. Manual, xiii. 
 
 CLIX. ih. XV. 
 
 CLX. ih. xvii. 
 
 CLXI. ih. xxi. 
 
 CLXII. ih. xxvii. 
 
 CLXIII. ih. xxxi. 
 
 CLXIV. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXV. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLX VI. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXVII, i&. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXVIII. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXIX. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXX. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXXI. ih. xxxiii. 
 
 CLXXII. ih. XXXV. 
 
 CLXXIII. ih. xli. 
 
 CLXXIV. ifc. xliii. 
 
 CLXXV. ib. xlvi. 
 
 f CLXXVI. ih. xlvii. 
 CLXXVII. f&. xlix. 
 CLXX VIII. Fragment; Sch weigh. 
 
 xxxi.; Schenkl, Gn. Epict. Stob. 
 
 20 
 CLXXIX. ib. xxxiii. and 23 
 CLXXX. ih. xxxiv. and 24 
 CLXXXI, ih. attributed to Epict. 
 
 by Maximus; Schweigh. clxxiii. 
 
 (v. Asmus, p. 20) 
 CLXXXII. ih.; Schweigh. clxxii. 
 CLXXXIII. ih. (Aulus Gellius); 
 
 Schweigh. clxxix. ; Schenkl, 10 
 CLXXXIV. Manual, lii. 
 CLXXXV. Arrian, Disc. ii. 6, 26 
 CLXXXVI. ih. ii. 5, 9-13 
 CLXXXVII. ih. i. 24, 3-9 
 CLXXXVIII. ib. iii. 13, 12-16 
 CLXXXIX. ib. iv. 10, 12-17 
 
 INDEX FOR REFERENCE 
 TO APPENDIX A 
 
 I. Schweigh. Fragment, i; Schenkl, 
 Gn. Epict. Stoh. i. 
 
 II. ih. 2 — ib. 2 
 
 III. Schweigh. 12; Schenkl, 22 
 
 IV. ib. 103 
 
 V. ib. 141 
 
 VI. ib. 142 
 
 VII. ih. 60; Schenkl, 50 
 
 VIII. ih. 65; ib. 55 
 
 IX. ib. 96 ♦ 
 
 X. ib. 9; ih. 32 
 
 XI. t&. 54; Schenkl, Fragment, 
 xxxiii. 
 
 XII. ib. 55 ; ib. xxkxVo 
 
 XIII. Schweigh. 104 
 
 XIV. ib. 5; Schenkl, Gn. Epict. 
 Stob. 5 
 
 XV. ih. 114; Schenkl, Fragment, xxxv. 
 
 XVI. ih. 89; ib. XXX. 
 
 XVII. ih. 138 
 
 XVIII. ib. 13; Schenkl, G>i. £/>»<:*, 
 Stoh. 46 
 
 XIX. ife. 119 
 
 XX. ib. 144 
 
 XXI. i&. 118 
 
 XXII. ib. 88; Schenkl, ib. 67 
 
 XXIII. j&. 156 
 
 XXIV. ib. 120 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF 
 MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 GEORGE LONG, M. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 Marcus Annius Verus was horn in Rome, A. D. 121, and as- 
 sumed the name of Marcm Aurelius Antoninus, by which he is 
 known to history, on his adoption by the Emperor T. Aurelius 
 Antoninus. He succeeded to the imperial throne in 161, and ruled 
 till his death in 180. His reign, though marked by justice and 
 moderation at home, was troubled by constant warfare on the 
 frontier's of the Empire, and Aurelius spent much of his later 
 years in the uncongenial task of commanding armies that no 
 longer proved irresistible agaitvst the barbarian hordes. 
 
 M. Aurelius was educated by the orator Pronto, but turned 
 aside from rhetoric to the study of the Stoic philosophy, of which 
 he was the last distinguished representative. The "Meditations," 
 which he wrote in Greek, are among the most noteworthy ex- 
 pressions of this system, and exhibit it favorably on its practical 
 side. His own precepts he carried out with singular consistency ; 
 and both in his public and his private life he was in the highest 
 degree conscientious. He and his predecessor are noted as the 
 only Roman emperors who can be said to have ruled with a single 
 eye to the welfare of their subjects. 
 
 During his reign Rome was visited by a severe pestilence, and 
 this, with reverses suffered by his armies, threw the populace into 
 a panic, and led them to demand the sacrifice of the Christians, 
 whom they regarded as having brought down the anger of the 
 gods. Aurelius seems to have shared the panic; and his record 
 is stained by his sanction of a cruel persecution. This incident 
 in the career of the last, and one of the loftiest, of the pagan mor- 
 alists may be regarded as symbolic of the dying effort of heath- 
 enism to check the advancing tide of Christianity. 
 
 The ''Meditations" picture with faithfulness the mind and 
 character of this noblest of the Emperors. Simple in style and 
 sincere in tone, they record for all time the height reached by 
 pagan aspiration in its effort to solve the problem of conduct; 
 and the essential agreement of his practice with his teaching 
 proved that "Even in a palace life may be led well" 
 
THE MEDITATIONS C 
 MARCUS AURELIUS 
 ANTONINUS 
 
 [ROM my grandfather Verus [I learned] good morals 
 and the government of my temper. 
 2. From the reputation and remembrance of my 
 father, modesty and a manly character. 
 
 3. From my m.other, piety and beneficence, and abstinence, 
 not only from evil deeds, but even from evil thoughts; and 
 further simplicity in my way of living, far removed from 
 the habits of the rich. 
 
 4. From my great-grandfather, not to have frequented 
 public schools, and to have had good teachers at home, and 
 to know that on such things a man should spend liberally. 
 
 5. From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of 
 the blue party at the games in the Circus, nor a partizan 
 either of the Parmularius or the Scutarius at the gladiators' 
 fights; from him too I learned endurance of labor, and to 
 want little, and to work with my own hands, and not 
 to meddle with other people's affairs, and not to be ready to 
 listen to slander. 
 
 6. From Diognetus, not to busy myself about trifling 
 things, and noc to give credit to what was said by miracle- 
 workers and jugglers about incantations and the driving 
 away of daemons and such things; and not to breed quails 
 [for fighting], nor to give myself up passionately to such 
 things; and to endure freedom of speech; and to have be- 
 come intimate with philosophy; and to have been a hearer, 
 first of Bacchius, then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to 
 
 193 
 y HC— Vol. 2 
 
194 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 have written dialogues in my youth; and to have desired a 
 plank bed and skin, and whatever else of the kind belongs 
 to the Grecian discipline. 
 
 7. From Rusticus I received the impression that my 
 character required improvement and discipline; and from 
 him I learned not to be led astray to sophistic emulation, nor 
 to writing on speculative matters, nor to delivering little 
 hortatory orations, nor to showing myself off as a man who 
 practises much discipline, or does benevolent acts in order 
 to make a display ; and to abstain from rhetoric, and poetry, 
 and fine writing; and not to walk about in the house in 
 my outdoor dress, nor to do other things of the kind; and 
 to write my letters with simplicity, like the letter which 
 Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa to my mother; and with re- 
 spect to those v^^ho have offended me by words, or done me 
 wrong, to be easily disposed to be pacified and reconciled, as 
 soon as they have shown a readiness to be reconciled; and 
 to read carefully, and not to be satisfied with a superficial 
 understanding of a book; nor hastily to give my assent to 
 those who talk overmuch; and I am indebted to him for 
 being acquainted with the discourses of Epictetus, which he 
 communicated to me out of his ov/n collection. 
 
 8. From Apollonius I learned freedom of will and undevi- 
 ating steadiness of purpose; and to look to nothing else, not 
 even for a moment, except to reason; and to be always the 
 same, in sharp pains, on the occasion of the loss of a child, 
 and in long illness; and to see clearly in a living example 
 that the same man can be both most resolute and yielding, 
 and not peevish in giving his instruction; and to have had 
 before my eyes a man who clearly considered his experience 
 and his skill in expounding philosophical principles as the 
 smallest of his merits; and from him I learned how to re- 
 ceive from friends what are esteemed favors, without being 
 either humbled by them or letting them pass unnoticed. 
 
 9. From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example 
 of a family governed in a fatherly manner, and the idea of 
 living conformably to nature; and gravity without affecta- 
 tion, and to look carefully after the interests of friends, and 
 to tolerate ignorant persons, and those who form opinions 
 without consideration: he had the power of readily accom- 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 195 
 
 modating himself to all, so that intercourse with him was 
 more agreeable than any flattery ; and at the same time he v/as 
 most highly venerated by those who associated with him; 
 and he had the faculty both of discovering and ordering, in 
 an intelligent and methodical way, the principles necessary 
 for life; and he never showed anger or any other passion, 
 but was entirely free from passion, and also most affection- 
 ate; and he could express approbation without noisy display, 
 and he possessed much knowledge without ostentation. 
 
 10. From Alexander, the^ grammarian, to refrain from 
 fault-finding, and not in a reproachful way to chide those 
 who uttered any barbarous or solecistic or strange-sounding 
 expression ; but dexterously to introduce the very expression 
 which ought to have been used, and in the way of answer 
 or giving confirm.ation, or joining in an inquiry about the 
 thing itself, not about the word, or by some other fit sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 11. From Fronto I learned to observe what envy and 
 duplicity and hypocrisy are in a tyrant, and that generally 
 those among us who are called Patricians are rather de- 
 ficient in paternal affection. 
 
 12. From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor 
 without necessity to say to any one, or to write in a letter, 
 that I have no leisure; nor continually to excuse the neglect 
 of duties required by our relation to those with whom we 
 live, by alleging urgent occupations. 
 
 13. From Catulus, not to be indifferent when a friend 
 finds fault, even if he should find fault without reason, but 
 to try to restore him to his usual disposition ; and to be ready 
 to speak well of teachers, as it is reported of Domitius and 
 Athenodotus; and to love my children truly. 
 
 14. From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to 
 love truth, and to love justice; and through him I learned to 
 know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him 
 I received the idea of a polity in which there is the same 
 law for all, a polity administered with regard to equal rights 
 and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kingly gov- 
 ernment which respects most of all the freedom of the 
 governed; I learned from him also consistency and un- 
 deviating steadiness in my regard for philosophy, and a 
 
188 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 disposition to do good, and to give to others readily, and 
 to cherish good hopes, and to beheve that I am loved by my 
 friends; and in him I observed no concealment of his opin- 
 ions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that 
 his friends had no need to conjecture what he wished or did 
 not wish, but it was quite plain. 
 
 15. From Maximus I learned self-government, and not to 
 be led aside by anything; and cheerfulness in all circum- 
 stances, as well as in illness; and a just admixture in the 
 moral character of sweetness and dignity, and to do what 
 was set before me without complaining. I observed that 
 everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and that 
 in all that he did he never had any bad intention; and he 
 never showed amazement and surprise, and was never in a 
 hurry, and never put off doing a thing, nor was perplexed 
 nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to disguise his vexation, 
 nor, on the other hand, was he ever passionate or suspicious. 
 He was accustomed to do acts of beneficence, and was ready 
 to forgive, and was free from all falsehood; and he pre- 
 sented the appearance of a man who could not be diverted 
 from right rather than of a man who had been improved. I 
 observed, too, that no man could ever think that he was 
 despised by Maximus, or ever venture to think himself a 
 better man. He had also the art of being humorous in an 
 agreeable v/ay. 
 
 16. In my father I observed mildness of temper, and un- 
 changeable resolution in the things which he had deter- 
 mined after due deliberation; and no vainglory in those 
 things which men call honors ; and a love of labor and per- 
 severance; and a readiness to listen to those who had any- 
 thing to propose for the common weal; and undeviating 
 firmness in giving to every man according to his deserts; 
 and a knowledge derived from experience of the occasions 
 for vigorous action and for remission. And I observed that 
 he had overcome all passion for joys; and he considered 
 himself no more than any other citizen, and he released his 
 friends from all obligation to sup with him or. to attend him 
 of a necessity when he went abroad, and those who failed 
 to accompany him by reason of any urgent circumstances, 
 always found him the same. I observed, too, his habit of 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OP MARCUS AURELIUS 197 
 
 fcareful inquiry in all matters of deliberation, and his per- 
 sistency, and that he never stopped his investigation through 
 being satisfied with appearances which first present them- 
 selves; and that his disposition was to keep his friends, 
 and not to be soon tired of them, nor yet to be extravagant 
 in his affection; and to be satisfied on all occasions, and 
 cheerful ; and to foresee things a long way off, and to provide 
 for the smallest without display; and to check immediately 
 popular applause and flattery, and to be ever watchful over 
 the things which were necessary for the administration of the 
 empire, and to be a good manager of the expenditure, and 
 patiently to endure the blame which he got for such conduct ; 
 and he was neither superstitious with respect to the gods, 
 nor did he court men by gifts or by trying to please them, 
 or by flattering the populace,; but he showed sobriety in all 
 things and firmness, and never any mean thoughts or action, 
 nor love of novelty. And the things which conduce in any 
 way to the commodity of life, and of which fortune gives 
 ian abundant supply, he used without arrogance and without 
 excusing himself; so that when he had them, he enjoyed 
 them without affectation, and wh«n he had them not he 
 did not want them. No one could ever say of him that he 
 was either a sophist or a [home-bred] flippant slave or a 
 pedant; but every one acknowledged him to be a m.an ripe, 
 perfect, above flattery, able to manage his own and other 
 men's affairs. Besides this, he honored those v/ho were 
 true philosophers, and he did not reproach those who pre- 
 tended to be philosophers, nor yet was he easily led by them. 
 He was also easy in conversation, and he made himself 
 agreeable without any offensive affectation. He took a 
 reasonable care of his body's health, not as one who was 
 greatly attached to life, nor out of regard to personal ap- 
 pearance, nor yet in a careless way, but so that, through 
 his own attention, he very seldom stood in need of the 
 physician's art or of medicine or external applications. He 
 was most ready to give way without envy to those v/ho 
 possessed any particular faculty, such as that of eloquence 
 or knowledge of the law or of morals, or of anything else; 
 and he gave them his help, that each might enjoy reputation 
 according to his deserts; a,nd he always acted conformably 
 
298 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 to the institutions of his country, without showing any affec- 
 tation of doing so. Further, he was not fond of change, 
 nor unsteady, but he loved to stay in the same places, and 
 to employ himself about the same things; and after his 
 paroxysms of headache he came immediately fresh and 
 vigorous to his usual occupations. His secrets were not 
 many, but very few and very rare, and these only about 
 public matters; and he showed prudence and economy in 
 the exhibition of the public spectacles and the construction 
 of public buildings, his donations to the people, and in such 
 things, for he was a man who looked to what ought to be 
 done, not to the reputation which is got by a man's acts. He 
 did not take the bath at unseasonable hours; he was not 
 fond of building houses, nor curious about what he eat, nor 
 about the texture and colour of his clothes, nor about the 
 beauty of his slaves. His dress came from Lorium, his 
 villa on the coast, and from Lanuvium generally. We know 
 how he behaved to the toll-collector at Tusculum who asked 
 his pardon; and such was all his behaviour. There was in 
 him nothing harsh, nor implacable, nor violent, nor, as one 
 may say, anything carried to the sweating point: but he 
 examined all things severally as if he had abundance of 
 time, and without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously 
 and consistently. And that might be applied to him which 
 is recorded of Socrates, that he was able both to abstain 
 from, and to enjoy, those things which many are too weak 
 to abstain from, and cannot enjoy without excess. But to 
 be strong enough both to bear the one and to be sober in 
 the other is the mark of a man who has a perfect and in- 
 vincible soul, such as he showed in the illness of Maxim.us. 
 17. To the gods I am indebted for having good grand- 
 fathers, good parents, a good sister, good teachers, good 
 associates, good kinsmen and friends, nearty everything 
 good. Further, I owe it to the gods that I was not hurried 
 into any oifence against any of them, though I had a dis- 
 position which, if opportunity had offered, might have led 
 me to do something of this kind ; but, through their favour, 
 there never was such a concurrence of circumstances as put 
 me to the trial. Further, I am thankful to the gods that I 
 was not longer brought up with my grandfather's concubine, 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 and that I preserved the fiower of my youth, and that I did 
 not make proof of my virility before the proper season, but 
 even deferred the time; that I was subjected to a ruler 
 and a father who was able to take away all pride from me, 
 and to bring me to the knowledge that it is possible for a 
 man to live in a palace without wanting either guards or em- 
 broidered dresses, or torches and statues, and such-like 
 show; but it is in such a man's power to bring himself very 
 near to the fashion of a private person, without being for 
 this reason either meaner in thought, or more remiss in 
 action, with respect to the things which must be done for 
 the public interest in a m.anner that befits a ruler. I thank 
 the gods for giving me such a brother, v/lio was able by 
 his moral character to rouse me to vigilance over myself, 
 and who, at the same time, pleased me by his respect and 
 affection; that my children have not been stupid nor dc 
 formed in body; that I did not make more proficiency in 
 rhetoric, poetry, and the other studies, in which I should 
 perhaps have been completely engaged, if I had seen that 
 I was making progress in them; that I made haste to place 
 those who brought me up in the station of honour, which 
 they seemed to desire without putting them off with hope 
 of my doing it some time after, because they were then still 
 young; that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus, Maximus; that I 
 received clear and frequent impressions about living accord- 
 ing to nature, and what kind of a life that is, so that, so far 
 as depended on the gods, and their gifts and help, and in- 
 spirations, nothing hindered me from forthwith living ac- 
 cording to nature, though I still fall short of it through my 
 own fault, and though not observing the admonitions of the 
 gods, and, I may almost say, their direct instructions; that 
 my body has held out so long in such a kind of life; that 
 I never touched either Benedicta or Theodotus, and that, 
 after having fallen into amatory passions, I was cured ; and, 
 though I was often out of humor v/ith Rusticus, I never 
 did anything of which I had occasion to repent; that, though 
 it was my mother's fate to die young, she spent the last 
 years of her life with me; that whenever I wished to help 
 any man in his need, or on any other occasion, I v/as never 
 toid that I had not the means of doing it; and that to myself 
 
200 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 the same necessity never happened, to receive any thing 
 from another; that I have such a wife, so obedient, and 
 so affectionate, and so simple; that I had abundance of 
 good masters for my children; and that rem.edies have been 
 shown to me by dreams, both others, and against blood- 
 spitting and giddiness; .... and that, when I had an 
 inclination to philosophy I did not fall into the hands of any 
 sophist, and that I did not waste my time on writers [of 
 histories], or in the resolution of syllogisms, or occupy my- 
 self about the investigation of appearances in the heavens; 
 for all these things require the help of the gods and fortune. 
 Among the Quadi at the Granua. 
 
 II 
 
 EGIN the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet 
 with the busybody, the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, 
 envious, unsocial. AH these things happen to them 
 by reason of their ignorance of what is good and evil. But 
 I who have seen the nature of the good that it is beautiful 
 and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who 
 does wrong, that it is akin to me, not [only] of the same 
 blood or seed, but that it participates in [the same] intelli- 
 gence and [the same] portion of the divinity, I can neither 
 be injured by any of them, for no one can fix on me what 
 is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate him. 
 For we are made for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like 
 eyelids, like the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act 
 against one another then is contrary to nature; and it is 
 acting against one another to be vexed and to turn away. 
 
 2. Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, 
 and the ruling part. Throw away thy books; no longer 
 distract thyself: it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now 
 dying, despise the flesh, it is blood and bones and a network, 
 a contexture of nerves, veins and arteries. See the breath 
 also, what kind of a thing it is ; air, and not always the same, 
 l)ut every moment sent out and again sucked in. The third 
 then is the ruling part : consider thus : Thou art an old man ; 
 no longer let this be a slave, no longer be pulled by the 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 201 
 
 Strings like a puppet to unsocial movements, no longer be 
 either dissatisfied with thy present lot, or shrink from the 
 future. 
 
 3. Ail that is from the gods is full of providence. That 
 which is from fortune is not separated from nature or with- 
 out an interweaving and involution with the things which 
 are ordered by Providence. From thence all things flow; 
 and there is besides necessity, and that which is for the 
 advantage of the whole universe, of which thou art a part. 
 But that is good for every part of nature which the nature 
 of the whole brings, and what serves to maintain this nature. 
 Now the universe is preserved, as by the changes of the 
 elements so by the changes of things compounded of the 
 elements. Let these principles be enough for thee; let them 
 always be fixed opinions. But cast away the thirst after 
 books, that thou miayest not die murmuring, but cheerfully, 
 truly, and from thy heart thankful to the gods. 
 
 4. Remember how long thou hast been putting of? these 
 things, and how often thou hast received an opportunity from 
 the gods, and yet dost not use it. Thou must now at last 
 perceive of what universe thou art a part, and of what 
 administrator of the universe thy existence is an efflux, and 
 that a limit of time is fixed for thee, which if thou dost not 
 use for clearing away the clouds from thy mind, it will go 
 and thou wilt go, and it will never return. 
 
 5. Every moment think steadily as a Roman and a man 
 to do what thou hast in hand with perfect and simple dig- 
 nity, and feeling of affection, and freedom, and justice; 
 and to give thyself relief from all other thoughts. And thou 
 wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act of thy life 
 as if it were the last, laying aside all carelessness and pas- 
 sionate aversion from the commands of reason, and all 
 hypocrisy, and self-love, and discontent with the portion 
 which has been given to thee. Thou seest how few the 
 things are, the which if a man lays hold of, he is able to 
 live a life which flows in quiet, and is like the existence 
 of the gods; for the gods on their part will require nothing 
 more from him who observes these things. 
 
 6. Do wrong to thj'-self, do wrong to thyself, my soul; 
 but thou wilt no longer have the opportunity of honouring 
 
202 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 thyself. Every man's life is sufficient. But thine is nearly 
 finished, though thy soul reverences not itself, but places thy 
 felicity in the souls of others. 
 
 7. Do the things external which fall upon thee distract 
 thee? Give thyself time to learn something new and good, 
 and cease to be whirled around. But then thou must also 
 avoid being carried about the other way. For those too are 
 trifiers who have wearied themselves in life by their activity, 
 and yet have no object to which to direct every movement, 
 and, in a word, all their thoughts. 
 
 8. Through not observing what is in the mind of another 
 a man has seldom been seen to be unhappy; but those who 
 do not observe the movements of their own mands must of 
 necessity be unhappy. 
 
 9. This thou must always bear in mind, what is the nature 
 of the whole, and what is my nature, and how this is related 
 
 'to that, and what kind of a part it is of what kind of a 
 whole; and that there is no one who hinders thee from 
 always doing and saying the things which are according to 
 the nature of which thou art a part. 
 
 10. Theophrastus, in his comparison of bad acts — such a 
 comparison as one would make in accordance with the com- 
 mon notions of mankind — says, like a true philosopher, that 
 the offences which are committed through desire are more 
 blamable than those which are committed through anger. 
 For he who is excited by anger seems to turn away from 
 reason with a certain pain and unconscious contraction; 
 but he who offends through desire, being overpowered by 
 pleasure, seems to be in a manner more intemperate and 
 more v/omanish in his oft'ences. Rightly then, and in a 
 way worthy of philosophy, he said that the offence which is 
 committed with pleasure is more blamable than that which 
 is committed with pain; and on the whole the one is more 
 like a person who has been first wronged and through pain 
 is compelled to be a-ngry ; but the other is moved by his own 
 impulse to do v/rong, being carried toward doing something 
 by desire. 
 
 11. Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life 
 this very moment, regulate every act and thought accord- 
 ingly. But to go away from among men, if there are gods. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 203 
 
 Is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods will not involve 
 thee in evil ; Uut if indeed they do not exist, or if they have 
 no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in 
 a universe devoid of gods or devoid of providence? But in 
 truth they do exist, and they do care for human things, and 
 they have put all the m^eans in man's power to enable him 
 not to fall into real evils. And as to the rest, if there was 
 anything evil, they would have provided for this also, that 
 it should be altogether in a m.an's povv^er not to fall into 
 it. Now, that which does not make a man worse, how can 
 it make a man's life worse ? But neither through ignorance, 
 nor having the knowledge, but not the power to guard 
 against or correct these things, is it possible that the nature 
 of the universe has overlooked them; nor is it possible that 
 it has made so great a mistake, either through want of 
 power or want of skill, that good and evil should happen 
 indiscriminately to the good and the bad. But death cer- 
 tainly, and life, honour and dishonour, pain and pleasure, all 
 these things equally happen to good men and bad, being 
 things which make us neither better nor worse. Therefore 
 they are neither good nor evil. 
 
 12. How quickly all these things disappear, in the universe 
 the bodies themselves, but in time the rem.embrance of them ; 
 what is the nature of all sensible things, and particularly 
 those v/hich attract with the bait of pleasure or terrify by 
 pain, or are noised about by vapory fame; how worthless, 
 and contemptible, and sordid and perishable, and dead they 
 are — all this it is the part of the intellectual faculty to ob- 
 serve. To observe too v/ho these are whose opinions and 
 voices give reputation; what death is, and the fact that, if 
 a man looks at it in itself, and by the abstractive power 
 of reflection resolves into their parts all the things which 
 present themselves to the imagination in it, he will then 
 consider it to be nothing else than an operation of nature; 
 and if any one is afraid of an operation of nature he is a 
 child. This, however, is not only an operation of nature, but 
 it is also a thing which conduces to the purposes of nature. 
 To observe, too, how man comes near to the Deity, and by 
 what part of him, and when this part of man is so dis' 
 posed (vi. 28), 
 
204 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 13. Nothing is more wretched than a man who traverses 
 everything in a round, and pries into things beneath the 
 earth, as the poet says, and seeks by conjecture what is 
 in the minds of his neighbors, without perceiving that it is 
 sufficient to attend to the daemon within him, and to reverence 
 it sincerely. And reverence of the daemon consists in keeping 
 it pure from passion and thoughtlessness, and dissatisfaction 
 with what comes from gods and men. For the things from 
 the gods merit veneration for their excellence; and the 
 things from, men should be dear to us by reason of kinship; 
 and sometimes even, in a manner, they move our pity by 
 reason of men's ignorance of good and bad; this defect 
 being not less than that which deprives us of the power of 
 distinguishing things that are white and black. 
 
 14. Though thou shouldest be going to live three thou- 
 sand years, and as many times ten thousand years, still re- 
 member that no man loses any other life than this v/hich he 
 now lives, nor lives any other than this which he now loses. 
 The longest and shortest are thus brought to the same. For 
 the present is the same to all, though that which perishes is 
 not the same; and so that which is lost appears to be a 
 mere moment. For a man cannot lose either the past or the 
 future : for what a m.an has not, how can any one take this 
 from him? These two things then thou must bear in mind: 
 the one, that all things from eternity are of like forms and 
 come round in a circle, and that it makes no difference 
 whether a man shall see the same things during a hundred 
 years or two hundred, or an infinite tim.e; and the second, 
 that the longest liver and he who will die soonest lose just 
 the same. For the present is the only thing of which a man 
 can be deprived, if it is true that this is the only thing which 
 he has, and that a man cannot lose a thing if he has it not. 
 
 15. Remember that all is opinion. For what was said by 
 the Cynic Monimus is manifest: and manifest too is the use 
 of what was said, if a man receives what may be got out of 
 it as far as it is true. 
 
 16. The soul of man does violence to itself, first of all 
 when it becomes an abscess and, as it were, a tumour on the 
 universe, so far as it can. For to be vexed at anything 
 whith happens is a separation of ourselves from nature, in 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 205 
 
 some part of which the natures of all other things are con- 
 tained. In the next place, the soul does violence to itself 
 when it turns away from any m.an, or even moves towards 
 him with the intention of injuring, such as are the souls 
 of those who are angry. In the third place, the soul does 
 violence to itself when it is overpowered by pleasure or 
 by pain. Fourthly, when it plays a part, and does or says 
 anything insincerely and untruly. Fifthly, when it allows 
 any act of its own and any movem.ent to be without an aim, 
 and does anything thoughtlessly and without considering 
 what it is, it being right that even the smallest things be 
 done with reference to an end; and the end of rational ani- 
 mals is to follow the reason and the law of the most ancient 
 city and polity. 
 
 17. Of the human life the time is a point, and the sub- 
 stance is in a flux, and the perception dull, and the com- 
 position of the whole body subject to putrefaction, and the 
 soul of a whirl, and fortune hard to divine, and fame a thing 
 devoid of judgment. And, to say all in a word, everything 
 which belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to 
 the soul is a dream and vapour, and life is a warfare and a 
 stranger's sojourn, and after-fame is oblivion. What, then, 
 is that which is able to conduct a man? One thing, and 
 only one — philosophy. But this consists in keeping the 
 daemon within a man free from violence and unharmed, 
 superior to pains and pleasures, doing nothing without a 
 purpose, nor yet falsely and with hypocrisy, not feeling the 
 need of another man's doing or not doing anything; and 
 besides, accepting all that happens, and all that is allotted, 
 as coming from thence, wherever it is, from whence he him- 
 self came; and, finally, waiting for death with a cheerful 
 mind, as being nothing else than a dissolution of the elements 
 of which every living being is compounded. But if there is 
 no harm to the elements themselves in each continually 
 changing into another, why should a man have any appre- 
 hension about the change and dissolution of all the elements ? 
 For it is according to nature, and nothing is evil which is 
 according to nature. 
 
 This in Carnuntum, 
 
206 ■ THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 III 
 
 E ought to consider not only that our life is daily 
 wasting away and a smaller part of it is left, but 
 another thing also must be taken into the account, 
 that if a man should live longer it is quite uncertain whether 
 the understanding will still continue sufficient for the com- 
 prehension of things, and retain the power of contemplation 
 v/hich strives to acquire the knowledge of the divine and the 
 human. For if he shall begin to fall into dotage, perspiration 
 and nutrition and imagination and appetite, and whatever 
 else there is of the kind, will not fail; but the power of 
 making use of ourselves, and filling up the measure of our 
 duty, and clearly separating all appearances, and considering 
 whether a man should now depart from life, and whatever 
 else of the kind absolutely requires a disciplined reason, all 
 this is already extinguished. We must m.ake haste then, not 
 only because we are daily nearer to death, but also because 
 the conception of things and the understanding of them 
 cease first. 
 
 2. We ought to observe also that even the things which 
 follow after the things which are produced according to 
 nature contain something pleasing and attractive. For in- 
 stance, when bread is baked some parts are split at the surface, 
 and these parts which thus open, and have a certain fashion 
 contrary to the purpose of the baker's art, are beautiful in 
 a manner, and in a peculiar way excite a desire for eating. 
 And again, figs, when they are quite ripe, gape open, and in 
 the ripe olives the very circum.stance of their being near to 
 rottenness adds a peculiar beauty to the fruit. And the ears 
 of corn bending down, and the lion's eyebrows, and the foam 
 which flows from the m.outh of wild boars, and many other 
 things — ^though they are far from being beautiful, if a man 
 should examine them severally — still, because they are con- 
 sequent upon the things which are formed by nature, help to 
 adorn them, and they please the mind; so that if a man 
 should have a feeling and deeper insight with respect to the 
 things which are produced in the universe, there is hardly 
 one of those which follow by way of consequence which 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 207- 
 
 will not seem to him to be in a manner disposed so as to 
 give pleasure. And so he will see even the real gaping jaws 
 of wild beasts with no less pleasure than those which paint- 
 ers and sculptors show by im.itation; and in an old woman 
 and an old man he will be able to see a certain maturity and 
 comeliness; and the attractive loveliness of young persons 
 he will be able to look on with chaste eyes; and many such 
 things will present themselves, not pleasing to every man, 
 but to him only who has become truly familiar with nature 
 and her works. 
 
 3. Hippocrates after curing many diseases himself fell sick 
 and died. The Chald^i foretold the deaths of many, and 
 then fate caught them too, Alexander, and Pompeius, and 
 Caius Caesar, after so often completely destroying whole 
 cities, and in battle cutting to pieces many ten thousands of 
 cavalry and infantry, themselves too at last departed from 
 life. Heraclitus, after so many speculations on the con- 
 flagration of the universe, was filled with water internally 
 and died smeared all over with mud. And lice destroyed 
 Democritus; and other lice killed Socrates. What means 
 all this? Thou hast embarked, thou hast made the voyage, 
 thou art come to shore; get out. If indeed to another life, 
 there is no want of gods, not even there. But if to a state 
 w^ithout sensation, thou wilt cease to be held by pains and 
 pleasures, and to be a slave to the vessel, which is as much 
 inferior as that which serves It is superior; for the one is 
 intelligence and deity; the other Is earth and corruption. 
 
 4. Do not waste the remainder of thy life In thoughts 
 about others, when thou dost not refer thy thoughts to some 
 object of common utility. For thou losest the opportunity 
 of doing something else when thou hast such thoughts as 
 these, What Is such a person doing, and why, and what is 
 he saying, and what Is he thinking of, and what Is he con- 
 triving, and v/hatever else of the kind makes us wander 
 away from the observation of our own ruling power. We 
 ought then to check In the series of our thoughts every- 
 thing that Is without a purpose and useless, but most of 
 all the overcurious feeling and the malignant; and a man 
 should use himself to think of those things only about which 
 if one should suddenly ask. What hast thou now in thy 
 
208 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 thoughts? with perfect openness thou mightest imme- 
 diately answer. This or That; so that from thy words 
 it should be plain that everything in thee is simple and be- 
 nevolent, and such as befits a social animal, one that cares 
 not for thoughts about pleasure or sensual enjoyments 
 at all, nor has any rivalry or envy and suspicion, or 
 anything else for which thou wouldst blush if thou 
 shouldst say that thou hadst it in thy mind. For the 
 man who is such and no longer delays being among the 
 number of the best, is like a priest and minister of the gods, 
 using too the [deity] which is planted within him, which 
 makes the man uncontaminated by pleasure, unharmed by 
 any pain, untouched by any insult, feeling no wrong, a 
 fighter in the noblest fight, one who cannot be overpowered 
 by any passion, dyed deep with justice, accepting with all 
 his soul everything which happens and is assigned to him 
 as his portion; and not often, nor yet without great neces- 
 sity and for the general interest, imagining what another 
 says, or does, or thinks. For it is only what belongs to 
 himself that he makes the matter for his activity; and he 
 constantly thinks of that which is allotted to himself out 
 of the sum total of things, and he makes his own acts fair, 
 and he is persuaded that his own portion is good. For 
 the lot which is assigned to each man is carried along 
 with him and carries him along with it. And he remem- 
 bers also that every rational animal is his kinsman, and 
 that to care for all m.en is according to man's nature; and 
 a man should hold on to the opinion not of all but of those 
 only v/ho confessedly live according to nature. But as to 
 those v/ho live not so, he always bears in mxind what kind 
 of men they are both at home and from home, both by 
 night and by day, and what they are, and V\^ith what men 
 they live an im.pure life. Accordingly, he does not value 
 at all the praise which comes from such men, since they 
 are not even satisfied with themselves. 
 
 5. Labour not unwillingly, nor without regard to the com- 
 mon interest, nor without due consideration, nor with dis- 
 traction; nor let studied ornament set off thy thoughts, and 
 be not either a man of many words, or busy about too many 
 things. And imthQX^ let the deity; which is in thee be the 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 209 
 
 guardian of a living being, manly and of ripe age, and en- 
 gaged in matter political, and a Roman, and a ruler, who has 
 taken his post like a man waiting for the signal which sum- 
 mons him from life, and ready to go, having need neither of 
 oath nor of any man's testimony. Be cheerful also, and seek 
 not external help nor the tranquillity which others give. A 
 man then must stand erect, not be kept erect by others. 
 
 6. If thou findest in human life anything better than justice, 
 truth, temperance, fortitude, and, in a word, anything better 
 than thy own mind's self-satisfaction in the things which it 
 enables thee to do according to right reason, and in the con- 
 dition that is assigned to thee without thy own choice; if, 
 I say, thou seest anything better than this^ turn to it with 
 all thy soul, and enjoy that which thou hast found to be the 
 best. But if nothing appears to be better than the deity 
 which is planted in thee, which has subjected to itself all 
 thy appetites, and carefully examines all the impressions, and 
 as Socrates said, has detached itself from the persuasions of 
 sense, and has submitted itself to the gods, and cares for 
 mankind; if thou findest everything else smaller and of less 
 value than this, give place to nothing else, for if thou dost 
 once diverge and incline to it, thou wilt no longer without 
 distraction be able to give the preference to that good thing 
 which is thy proper possession and thy own; for it is not 
 right that anything of any other kind, such as praise from 
 the many, or power, or enjoyment of pleasure, should come 
 into competition with that which is rationally and politically 
 [or, practically] good. All these things, even though they 
 may seem to adapt themselves [to the better things] in a 
 small degree, obtain the superiority all at once, and carry 
 us away. But do thou, I say, simply and freely choose the 
 better, and hold to it. — But that which is useful is the better. — 
 Well then, if it is only useful to thee as a rational being, 
 keep to it; but if it is only useful to thee as an animal, 
 say so, and maintain thy judgment without arrogance; only 
 take care that thou makest the inquiry by a sure method. 
 
 7. Never value anything as profitable to thyself which shall 
 compel thee to break thy promise, to lose thy self-respect, to 
 hate any man, to suspect, to curse, to act the hypocrite, to 
 desire anything which needs walls and curtains: for he who 
 
210 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 has preferred to everything else his own intelligence and 
 daemon and the worship of its excellence, acts no tragic part, 
 does not groan, will not need either solitude or muc?i com- 
 pany; and, what is chief of all, he will live without either 
 pursuing or flying from [death] ; but whether for a longer 
 or a shorter time he shall have the soul inclosed in the body, 
 he cares not at all; for even if he must depart immediately, 
 he will go as readily as if he were going to do anything else 
 which can be done with decency and order; taking care of 
 this only all through life, that his thoughts turn not away 
 from anything which belongs to an intelligent animal and 
 a member of a civil community. 
 
 8. In the mind of one who is chastened and purified thou 
 Vv^iit find no corrupt matter, nor impurity, nor any sore 
 skinned over. Nor is his life incomplete when fate over- 
 takes him, as one may say of an actor v/ho leaves the stage 
 before ending and finishing the play. Besides, there is in 
 him nothing servile, nor affected, nor too closely bound [to 
 other things], nor yet detached [from other things], nothing 
 worthy of blame, nothing which seeks a hiding-place. 
 
 9. Reverence the faculty which produces opinion. On this 
 faculty it entirely depends whether there shall exist in thy 
 ruling part any opinion inconsistent with nature and the con- 
 stitution of the rational animal. And this faculty promises 
 freedom from hasty judgment, and friendship towards m.en, 
 and obedience to the gods. 
 
 10. Throwing away, then, all things, hold to these only 
 which are few; and besides bear in mind that every man 
 lives only this present time, which is an indivisible point, and 
 that all the rest of his life is either past or it is uncertain. 
 Short then is the time v/hich every man lives, and small the 
 nook of the earth where he lives; and short too the longest 
 posthumous fame, and even this only continued by a suc- 
 cession of poor human beings, who v/ill very soon die, and 
 who know not even themselves, much less him who died long 
 ago. 
 
 11. To the aids which have been mentioned let this one 
 still be added: — Make for thyself a definition or description 
 of the thing which is presented to thee, so as to see distinctly 
 what kind of a thing it is in its substance, in its nudity, m 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 211 
 
 its complete entirety, and tell thyself its proper name, and 
 the names of the things of which it has been compounded, 
 and into which it will be resolved. For nothing is so pro- 
 ductive of elevation of mind as to be able to examine method- 
 ically and truly every object v/hich is presented to thee in 
 life, and always to look at things so as to see at the sam.e time 
 what kind of universe this is, and what kind of use every- 
 thing performs in it, and what value everything has with ref- 
 erence to the whole, and what with reference to man, who 
 is a citizen of the highest city, of which all other cities are 
 like families ; what each thing is, and of what it is composed, 
 and how long it is the nature of this thing to endure which 
 now makes an impression on me, and what virtue I have 
 need of with respect to it, such as gentleness, manliness, truth, 
 fidelity, simplicity, contentmicnt, and the rest. Vv^herefore, 
 on every occasion a man should say: This comes from God; 
 and this is according to the apportionment and spinning of 
 the thread of destiny, and such-like coincidence and chance; 
 and this is from one of the same stock and a kinsm.an and 
 partner, one who knows not however what is according to 
 his nature. But I know; for this reason I behave towards 
 him according to the natural law of fellowship with benev- 
 olence and justice. At the same time hov/ever in things 
 indifferent I attempt to ascertain the value of each. 
 
 12. If thou workest at that which is before thee, following 
 right reason seriously, vigorously, calmly, without allowing 
 anything else to distract thee, but keeping thy divine part 
 pure, as if thou shouldst be bound to give it back im- 
 mediately ; if thou boldest to this, expecting nothing, fearing 
 nothing, but satisfied with thy present activity according to 
 nature, and with heroic truth in every word and sound which 
 thou utterest, thou wilt live happy. And there is no man 
 who is able to prevent this. 
 
 13. Als physicians have always their instruments and 
 knives ready for cases which suddenly require their skill, 
 so do thou have principles ready for the understanding of 
 things divine and human, and doing everything, even the 
 smallest, with a recollection of the bond which unites 
 the divine and human to one another. For neither wilt 
 thou do anything well which pertains to man without at 
 
212 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 the same time having a reference to things divine; nor the 
 contrary. 
 
 14. No longer wander at hazard; for neither wilt thou 
 read thy own memoirs, nor me acts of the ancient Romans and 
 Hellenes, and the selections from books which thou wast 
 reserving for thy old age. Hasten then to the end which 
 thou hast before thee, and, throwing away idle hopes, come 
 to thy own aid, if thou carest at all for thyself, while it is 
 in thy power. 
 
 15. They know not how many things are signified by the 
 words stealing, sov/ing, buying, keeping quiet, seeing Vv^hat 
 ought to be done; for this is not effected by the eyes, but by 
 another kind of vision. 
 
 16. Body, soul, intelligence: to the body belong sensations, 
 to the soul appetites, to the intelligence principles. To re- 
 ceive the impressions of forms by means of appearances 
 belongs even to animals ; to be pulled by the strings of desire 
 belongs both to v/ild beasts and to men who have made them- 
 selves into women, and to a Phalaris and a Nero: and to 
 have the intelligence that guides to the things which appear 
 suitable belongs also to those who do not believe in the gods, 
 and who betray their country, and do their impure deeds 
 when they have shut the doors. If then everything else is 
 common to all that I have mentioned, there remains that 
 which is peculiar to the good man, to be pleased and content 
 with v\^hat happens, and with the thread which is spun for 
 him; and not to defile the divinity which is planted in his 
 breast, nor disturb it by a crowd of images, but to preserve 
 it tranquil, following it obediently as a god, neither saying 
 anything contrary to the truth, nor doing anything contrary to 
 justice. And if all men refuse to believe that he lives a simple, 
 modest, and contented life, he is neither angry with any of 
 them, nor does he deviate from the way which leads to the end 
 of life, to which a man ought to come pure, tranquil, ready to 
 depart, and without any compulsion perfectly reconciled to 
 liis lot. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 213 
 
 IV 
 
 I HAT which rules within, when it is according to 
 nature, is so affected with respect to the events v/hich 
 happen, that it always easily adapts itself to that 
 which is possible and is presented to it. For it requires no 
 definite material, but it moves towards its purpose, under 
 certain conditions however ; and it makes a material for itself 
 out of that which opposes it, as fire lays hold of what falls 
 into it, by which a small light would have been extinguished : 
 but when the fire is strong, it soon appropriates to itself 
 the matter which is heaped on it, and consumes it, and rises 
 higher by means of this very material. 
 
 2. Let no act be done without a purpose, nor otherwise 
 than according to the perfect principles of art. 
 
 3. Men seek retreats for themselves, houses in the country, 
 sea-shores and mountains; and thou too art wont to desire 
 such things very much. But this is altogether a mark of the 
 most common sort of men, for it is in thy power whenever 
 thou shalt choose to retire into thyself. For nowhere, either 
 with more quiet or more freedom from trouble, does a man 
 retire than into his own soul, particularly v\^hen he has 
 within him such thoughts that by looking into them he is 
 immediately in perfect tranquillity; and I affirm that tran- 
 quillity is nothing else than the good ordering of the mind. 
 Constantly then give to thyself this retreat, and renew thy- 
 self ; and let thy principles be brief and fundamental, which, 
 as soon as thou shalt recur to them, will be sufficient to 
 cleanse the soul completely, and to send thee back free from 
 all discontent with the things to which thou returnest. For 
 with what art thou discontented ? With the badness of men ? 
 Recall to thy mind this conclusion, that rational animals 
 exist for one another, and that to endure is a part of justice, 
 and that men do wrong involuntarily; and consider how 
 many already, after mutual enmity, suspicion, hatred and 
 fighting, have been stretched dead, reduced to ashes ; and be 
 quiet at last. — But perhaps thou art dissatisfied with that 
 which is assigned to thee out of the universe. — Recall to 
 thy recollection this alternative; either there is providence 
 
214 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 or atoms [fortuitous concurrence of things] ; or remember 
 the arguments by which it has been proved that the world 
 is a kind of a political community [and be quiet at last]. — 
 But perhaps corporeal things will still fasten upon thee. — 
 Consider then further that the mind mingles not with the 
 breath, whether moving gently or violently, when it has once 
 draY\^n itself apart and discovered its own power, and think 
 also of all that thou hast heard and assented to about pain 
 and pleasure [and be quiet at last]. — But perhaps the desire 
 of the thing called fame will torment thee. — See how soon 
 everything is forgotten, and look at the chaos of infinite 
 time on each side of [the present], and the emptiness of ap- 
 plause, and the changeableness and want of judgment in 
 those who pretend to give praise, and the narrowness of 
 the space within which it is circumscribed [and be quiet at 
 last]. For the whole earth is a point, and how small a 
 nook in it is this thy dwelling, and how few are there in it, 
 and what kind of people are they who will praise thee. 
 
 This then remains : Remember to retire into this little ter- 
 ritory of thy own, and, above all, do not distract or strain 
 thyself, but be free, and look at things as a man, as a human 
 being, as a citizen, as a mortal. But among the things 
 readiest to thy hand to which thou shalt turn, let there be 
 these, which are two. One is that things do not touch the 
 soul, for they are external and remain immovable ; but our 
 perturbations come only from the opinion which is within. 
 The other is that all these things, which thou seest, change 
 immediately and will no longer be; and constantly bear in 
 mind how many of these changes thou hast already wit- 
 nessed. The universe is transformation: life is opinion. 
 
 4. If our intellectual part is common, the reason also, in 
 respect of which we are rational beings, is common: if this 
 is so, common also is the reason which commands us what 
 to do, and what not to do; if this is so, there is a com- 
 mon law also ; if this is so, we are fellow-citizens ; if this is 
 so, we are members of some political community ; if this is so, 
 the world is in a m.anner a state. For of what other common 
 political community will any one say that the whole human 
 race are members? And from thence, from this common 
 political community comes also our very intellectual faculty 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 215 
 
 and reasoning faculty and our capacity for law; or whence 
 do they come ? For as my earthly part is a portion given to 
 me from certain earth, and that which is watery from an- 
 other element, and that which is hot and fiery from some 
 peculiar source (for nothing comes out of that which is 
 nothing, as nothing also returns to non-existence), so also 
 the intellectual part comes from some source. 
 
 5. Death is such as generation is, a mystery of nature; a 
 composition out of the same elements, and a decomposition 
 into the same ; and altogether not a thing of which any man 
 should be ashamed, for it is not contrary to [the nature of] 
 a reasonable animal, and not contrary to the reason of our 
 constitution. 
 
 6. It is natural that these things should be done by such 
 persons, it is a matter of necessity; and if a man will not 
 have it so, he will not allow the fig-tree to have juice. But 
 by all means bear this in mind, that within a very short time 
 both thou and he will be dead ; and soon not even your names 
 will be left behind. 
 
 7. Take aw^ay thy opinion, and then there is taken away 
 the complaint, " I have been harmied." Take away the com- 
 plaint, " I have been harmed," and the harm is taken away. 
 
 8. That which does not make a man worse than he was, 
 also does not make his life worse, nor does it harm him 
 either from vv^ithout or from within. 
 
 9. The nature of that which is [universally] useful has 
 been compelled to do this. 
 
 10. Consider that everything which happens, happens 
 justly, and if thou observest carefully, thou wilt find it to be 
 so. I do not say only with respect to the continuity of the 
 series of things, but with respect to what is just, and as if 
 it were done by one who assigns to each thing its value. 
 Observe then as thou hast begun; and whatever thou doest, 
 do it in conjunction with this, the being good, and in the 
 sense in which a man is properly understood to be good. 
 Keep to this in every action. 
 
 11. Do not have such an opinion of things as he has who 
 does thee wrong, or such as he wishes thee to have, but 
 look at them as they are in truth, 
 
 12. A man should always have these two rules in readi- 
 
216 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 ness; the one, to do only whatever the reason of the ruling 
 and legislating faculty may suggest for the use of men; the 
 other, to change thy opinion, if there is any one at hand 
 who sets thee right and moves thee from any opinion. But 
 this change of opinion must proceed only from a certain 
 persuasion, as of what is just or of common advantage, and 
 the like, not because it appears pleasant or brings reputation. 
 
 13. Hast thou reason? I have. — Why then dost not thou 
 use it? For if this does its own work, what else dost thou 
 wish? 
 
 14. Thou hast existed as a part. Thou shalt disappear in 
 that which produced thee; but rather thou shalt be received 
 back into its seminal principle by transmutation. 
 
 15. Many grains of frankincense on the same altar; one 
 falls before, another falls after; but it makes no difference. 
 
 16. Within ten days thou wilt seem a god to those to whom 
 thou art now a beast and an ape, if thou wilt return to thy 
 principles and the worship of reason. 
 
 17. Do not act as if thou wert going to live ten thousand 
 years. Death hangs over thee. While thou livest, while it 
 is in thy power, be good. 
 
 18. Kow much trouble he avoids who does not look to see 
 whal his neighbour says or does or thinks, but only to what 
 he does himself, that it may be just and pure; or as Agathon 
 says, look not round at the depraved morals of others, but 
 run straight along the line v/ithout deviating from it. 
 
 19. He who has a vehement desire for posthumous fame 
 does not consider that every one of those who remember 
 him will himself also die very soon; then again also they 
 ,who have succeeded them, until the whole remembrance shall 
 have been extinguished as it is transmitted through men 
 who foolishly admire and perish. But suppose that those 
 who will remember are even immortal, and that the re- 
 membrance will be immortal, what then is this to thee ? And 
 I say not what is it to the dead, but what is it to the living. 
 What is praise, except indeed so far as it has a certain 
 utility. For thou now rejectest unseasonably the gift of 
 nature, clinging to something else. . . . 
 
 20. Everything which is in any way beautiful is beautiful 
 in itself^ and terminates in itself, not having praise as part 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 217 
 
 of itself. Neither worse then nor better is a thing made by 
 being praised. I affirm this also of the things v/hich are 
 called beautiful by the vulgar; for example, material things 
 and works of art. That which is really beautiful has no 
 need of anything; not more than law, not more than truth, 
 not more than benevolence or modesty. Which of these 
 things is beautiful because it is praised, or spoiled by being 
 blamed? Is such a thing as an emerald made worse than 
 it was, if it is not praised? or gold, ivory, purple, a lyre, 
 a little knife, a flower, a shrub ? 
 
 21. If souls continue to exist, how does the air contain 
 them from eternity? — But how does the earth contain the 
 bodies of those who have been buried from time so remote? 
 For as here the mutation of these bodies after a certain 
 continuance, whatever it may be, and their dissolution make 
 room for other dead bodies; so the souls which are removed 
 into the air after subsisting for some time are transmuted 
 and diffused, and assume a fiery nature by being received 
 into the seminal intelligence of the universe, and in this way 
 make room for the fresh souls which come to dwell there. 
 And this is the answer which a man might give on the hy- 
 pothesis of souls continuing to exist. But we must not only 
 think of the number of bodies which are thus buried, but 
 also of the number of animals which are daily eaten by us 
 and the other animals. For what a number is consumed, 
 and thus in a manner buried in the bodies of those who feed 
 on them? And nevertheless this earth receives them by 
 reason of the changes [of these bodies] into blood, and the 
 transformations into the aerial, or the fiery element. 
 
 What is the investigation into the truth in this matter? 
 The division into that which is m.aterial and that which is 
 the cause of form [the formal] (vii. 29). 
 
 22. Do not be whirled about, but in every movement have 
 respect to justice, and on the occasion of every impression 
 maintain the faculty of comprehension [or understanding]. 
 
 23. Everything harmonizes with me, which is harmonious 
 to thee, O Universe. Nothing for me is too early nor too 
 late, which is in due time for thee. Everything is fruit to 
 me which thy seasons bring, O Nature: from thee are all 
 things, in thee are ail things, to thee all things return. The 
 
218 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 poet says, Dear City of Cecrops ; and wilt not thou say, Dear 
 city of Zeus ? 
 
 24. Occupy thyself with few things, says the philosopher, 
 if thou wouldst be tranquil. — But consider if it would not 
 be better to say. Do what is necessary, and whatever the 
 reason of the animal which is naturally social requires, and 
 as it requires. For this brings not only the tranquillity 
 which comes from doing wtll, but also that which comes 
 from doing few things. For the greatest part of what we say 
 and do being unnecessary, if a man takes this away, he will 
 have more leisure and less uneasiness. Accordingly on every 
 occasion a man should ask himself, Is this one of the un- 
 necessary things? Now a man should take away not only 
 unnecessary acts but also unnecessary thoughts, for thus 
 superfluous acts will not follow after. 
 
 25. Try how the life of the good man suits thee, the life 
 of him who is satisfied with his portion out of the whole, 
 and satisfied with his own just acts and benevolent dispo- 
 sition. 
 
 26. Hast thou seen those things? Look also at these. 
 Do not disturb thyself. Make thyself all simplicity. Does 
 any one do wrong ? It is to himself that he does the wrong. 
 Has anything happened to thee? Well, out of the universe 
 from the beginning everything which happens has been ap- 
 portioned and spun out to thee. In a word, thy life is short. 
 Thou must turn to profit the present by the aid of reason and 
 justice. Be sober in thy relaxation. 
 
 27. Either it is a well arranged universe or a chaos hud- 
 dled together, but still a universe. But can a certain order 
 subsist in thee, and disorder in the All ? And this, too, when 
 all things are so separated and diffused and sympathetic. 
 
 28. A black character, a womanish character, a stubborn 
 character, bestial, childish, animal, stupid, counterfeit, scur- 
 rilous, fraudulent, tyrannical. 
 
 29. If he is a stranger to the universe who does not know 
 what is in it, no less is he a stranger who does not know 
 what is going on in it. He is a runaway, who flies from social 
 reason; he is blind, who shuts the eyes of the understanding; 
 he is poor, who has need of another, and has not from him- 
 self all things which are useful for life. He is an abscess 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 219 
 
 on the universe who withdraws and separates himself from 
 the reason of our common nature through being displeased 
 with the things which happen, for the same nature produces 
 this, and has produced thee too; he is a piece rent asunder 
 from the state, who tears his own soul from that of reason- 
 able animals, which is one. 
 
 30. The one is a philosopher without a tunic, and the other 
 without a book: here is another half -naked: Bread I have 
 not, he says, and I abide by reason. And I do not get the 
 means of living out of my learning, and I abide [by my 
 reason]. 
 
 31. Love the art, poor as it may be, v/hich thou hast 
 learned, and be content with it ; and pass through the rest of 
 life like one who has intrusted to the gods with his whole 
 soul all that he has, making thyself neither the tyrant nor 
 the slave of any man. 
 
 32. Consider, for example, the times of Vespasian. Thou 
 wilt see all these things, people marrying, bringing up chil- 
 dren, sick, dying, warring, feasting, trafficking, cultivating 
 the ground, flattering, obstinately arrogant, suspecting, plot- 
 ting, wishing for some to die, grumbling about the present, 
 loving, heaping up treasure, desiring consulship, kingly 
 power. Well, then, that life of these people no longer exists 
 at all. Again, remove to the times of Trajan. Again, all 
 is the same. Their life, too, is gone. , In like manner view 
 also the other epochs of time and of whole nations, and see 
 how many after great efforts soon fell and were resolved 
 into the elements. But chiefly thou shouldst think of those 
 whom thou hast thyself known distracting themselves about 
 idle things, neglecting to do what was in accordance with 
 their proper constitution, and to hold firmly to this and to 
 be content with it. And herein it is necessary to remember 
 that the attention given to everything has its proper value 
 and proportion. For thus thou wilt not be dissatisfied, if 
 thou appliest thyself to smaller matters no further than is fit, 
 
 32. The words which were formerly familiar are now anti- 
 quated; so also the names of those who were famed of old, 
 are now in a manner antiquated: Camillus, Caeso, Volesus, 
 Leonnatus, and a little after also Scipio and Cato, then 
 Augustus, then also Hadrianus and Antoninus. For all 
 
220 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 things soon pass away and become a mere tale, and complete 
 oblivion soon buries them. And I say this of those who have 
 shone in a wondrous way. For the rest, as soon as they 
 have breathed out their breath, they are gone, and no man 
 speaks of them. And, to conclude the matter, what is even 
 an eternal remembrance? A mere nothing. V\^hat, then, 
 is that about which we ought to employ our serious pains? 
 This one thing, thoughts just, and acts social, and words 
 which never lie, and a disposition which gladly accepts all 
 that happens, as necessary, as usual, as flowing from a prin- 
 ciple and source of the same kind. 
 
 34. Willingly give thyself up to Clotho [one of the fates], 
 allowing her to spin thy thread into whatever things she 
 pleases. 
 
 35. Everything is only for a day, both that which remem- 
 bers and that which is remembered. 
 
 36. Observe constantly that all things take place by change, 
 and accustom thyself to consider that the nature of the Uni- 
 verse loves nothing so much as to change the things which 
 are and to make new things like them. For everything that 
 exists is in a manner the seed of that which will be. But 
 thou art thinking only of seeds which are cast into the earth 
 or into a womb : but this is a very vulgar notion. 
 
 37. Thou wilt soon die, and thou art not yet simple, nor 
 free from perturbations, nor without suspicion of being hurt 
 by external things, nor kindly disposed towards all ; nor dost 
 thou yet place wisdom only in acting justly. 
 
 38. Examine m.en's ruling principles, even those of the 
 wise, what kind of things they avoid, and what kind they 
 pursue. 
 
 39. What is evil to thee does not subsist In the ruling prin- 
 ciple of another ; nor yet in any turning and mutation of thy 
 corporeal covering. Where is it then? It is in that part of 
 thee in which subsists the power of forming opinions about 
 evils. Let this power then not form [such] opinions, and all 
 is well. And if that which is nearest to it, the poor body, is 
 cut, burnt, filled with matter and rottenness, nevertheless let 
 the part which forms opinions about these things be quiet, 
 that is, let it judge that nothing is either bad or good which 
 can happen equally to the bad man and the good. Foe 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 221 
 
 that wliich happens equally to him who lives contrary to 
 nature and to him who lives according to nature, is neither 
 according to nature nor contrary to nature. 
 
 40. Constantly regard the universe as one living being, 
 having one substance and one soul; and observe how all 
 things have reference to one perception, the perception of this 
 one living being; and how all things act with one movement; 
 and how all things are the co-operating causes of all things 
 which exist; observe too the continuous spinning of the 
 thread and the contexture of the vv^eb. 
 
 41. Thou art a little soul bearing about a corpse, as Epic- 
 tetus used to say (i. c. 19). 
 
 42. It is no evil for things to undergo change, and no good 
 for things to subsist in consequence of change. 
 
 43. Time is like a river made up of the events which 
 happen, and a violent stream; for as soon as a thing has 
 been seen, it is carried away, and another comes in its place, 
 and this will be carried away too. 
 
 44. Everything which happens is as familiar and well 
 known as the rose in spring and the fruit in summer; for 
 such is disease, and death, and calumny, and treachery, and 
 whatever else delights fools or vexes them- 
 
 45. In the series of things those which follow are always 
 aptly fitted to those which have gone before ; for this series 
 is not like a mere enumeration of disjointed things, which 
 has only a necessary sequence, but it is a rational connection : 
 and as all existing things are arranged together harmon- 
 iously, so the things which come into existence exhibit no 
 mere succession, but a certain wonderful relationship (vi. 38; 
 vii. 9; vii. 75, note). 
 
 46. Always remember the sayings of Heraclitus, that the 
 death of earth is to become vv^ater, and the death of water 
 is to becom.e air, and the death of air is to become fire, and 
 reversely. And think too of him who forgets whither the 
 way leads, and that men quarrel with that with which they 
 are most constantly in communion, the reason v/hich governs 
 the universe; and the things which they daily meet with 
 seem to them strange: and consider that we ought not to 
 act and speak as if we were asleep, for even in sleep we 
 seem to act and speak; and that we ought not, like children 
 
222 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 who learn from their parents, simply to act and speak as we 
 have been taught. 
 
 47. If any god told thee that thou shalt die to-morrow, or 
 certainly on the day after to-morrow, thou wouldst not care 
 much whether it was on the third day or on the morrow, 
 unless thou wast in the highest degree mean-spirited — for 
 how small is the difference? — so think it no great thing to 
 die after as many years as thou canst name rather than to- 
 morrow. 
 
 48. Think continually how many physicians are dead after 
 often contracting their eyebrows over the sick ; and how many 
 astrologers after predicting with great pretensions the deaths 
 of others; and how many philosophers after endless dis- 
 courses on death or immortality ; how many heroes after kill- 
 ing thousands; and how many tyrants who have used their 
 power over men's lives with terrible insolence as if they were 
 immortal ; and how many cities are entirely dead, so to speak, 
 Helice and Pompeii and Herculaneum, and others innumer- 
 able. Add to the reckoning all whom thou hast known, one 
 after another. One man after burying another has been 
 laid out dead, and another buries him ; and all this in a short 
 time. To conclude, always observe how ephemeral and 
 worthless human things are, and what was yesterday a little 
 mucus, to-morrow will be a mummy or ashes. Pass then 
 through this little space of time conformably to nature, and 
 end thy journey in content, just as an olive falls off when 
 it is ripe, blessing nature who produced it, and thanking the 
 tree on which it grew. 
 
 49. Be like the promontory against v/hich the waves con- 
 tinually break, but it stands firm and tames the fury of the 
 water around it. 
 
 Unhappy am I, because this has happened to me — Not, so, 
 but Happy am I, though this has happened to me, because I 
 continue free from pain, neither crushed by the present nor 
 fearing the future. For such a thing as this might have hap- 
 pened to every man ; but every man would not have continued 
 free from pain on such an occasion. Why, then, is that 
 rather a misfortune than this a good fortune? And dost 
 thou in all cases call that a man's misfortune, v/hich is not a 
 deviation from man's nature? And does a thing seem to 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 223 
 
 thee to be a deviation from man's nature, when it is not con- 
 trary to the will of man's nature? Well, thou knowest the 
 will of nature. Will then this which has happened prevent 
 thee from being just, magnanimous, temperate, prudent, se- 
 cure against inconsiderate opinions and falsehood ; will it pre- 
 vent thee from having modesty, freedom, and everything else, 
 by the presence of which mean's nature obtains all that is its 
 own? Remember, too, on every occasion which leads thee 
 to vexation to apply this principle: not that this is a mis- 
 fortune, but that to bear it nobly is good fortune. 
 
 50. It is a vulgar but still a useful help towards contempt of 
 death, to pass in review those who have tenaciously stuck 
 to life. What more then have they gained than those who 
 have died early? Certainly they lie in their tombs som.e- 
 where at last, Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, or any 
 one else like them, who have carried out many to be buried, 
 and then were carried out themselves. Altogether the inter- 
 val is small [between birth and death] ; and consider with 
 how much trouble, and in company with what sort of people, 
 and in what a feeble body this interval is laboriously passed. 
 Do not then consider life a thing of any value. For look to 
 the immensity of time behind thee, and to the tim.e which is 
 before thee, another boundless space. In this infinity then 
 what is the difference between him who lives three days and 
 him who lives three generations? 
 
 51. Always run to the short way; and the short way is the 
 natural: accordingly say and do everything in conformity 
 with the soundest reason. For such a purpose frees a man 
 from trouble, and warfare, and all artifice and ostentatious 
 display. 
 
 V 
 
 IN THE morning when thou risest unwillingly, let this 
 thought be present — I am rising to the work of a human 
 being. Why then am I dissatisfied if I am going to do the 
 things for which I exist and for which I was brought into 
 the world ? Or have I been made for this, to lie in the bed- 
 clothes and keep myself warm? — But this is more pleasant 
 —Dost thou exist then to take thy pleasure, and not at all for 
 
224 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUEELIUS 
 
 action or exertion? Dost thou not see the little plants, tHe 
 little birds, the ants, the spiders, the bees working together 
 to put in order their several parts of the universe? And 
 art thou unwilling to do the work of a human being, and 
 dost thou not make haste to do that v/hich is according to 
 thy nature? — But it is necessary to take rest also. — It is 
 necessary : however nature has fixed bounds to this too : she 
 has fixed bounds both to eating and drinking, and yet thou 
 goest beyond these bounds, beyond what is sufficient; yet in 
 thy acts it is not so, but thou stoppest short of what thou 
 canst do. So thou lovest not thyself, for if thou didsf, thou 
 wouldst love thy nature and her will. But those who love 
 their several arts exhaust themselves in working at them un- 
 washed and without food; but thou valuest thy own nature 
 less than the turner values the turning art, or the dancer the 
 dancing art, or the lover of money values his money, or the 
 vainglorious man his little glory. And such men, when they 
 have a violent affection to a thing, choose neither to eat nor 
 to sleep rather than to perfect the things which they care 
 for. But are the acts which concern society more vile in 
 thy eyes and less worthy of thy labour? 
 
 2. How easy it is to repel and to wipe away every impres- 
 sion which is troublesome or unsuitable, and immediately to 
 be in all tranquillity. 
 
 3. Judge every word and deed which are according to na- 
 ture to be fit for thee ; and be not diverted by the blame which 
 follows from any people, nor by their words, but if a thing is 
 good to be done or said, do not consider it unworthy of thee. 
 For those persons have their peculiar leading principle and 
 follow their peculiar movement ; which things do not thou re- 
 gard, but go straight on, following thy own nature and the 
 common nature; and the way of both is one. 
 
 4. I go through the things which happen according to 
 nature until I shall fall and rest, breathing out my breath 
 into that element out of which I daily draw it in, and falling 
 upon that earth out of which my father collected the seed, 
 and my mother the blood, and my nurse the milk; out of 
 which during so many 5'ears I have been supplied with food 
 and drink; which bears me when I tread on it and abuse it 
 for so many purposes. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 225 
 
 •5. Thou sayest, men cannot admire the sharpness of thy 
 ^its. — Be it so; but there are many other things of which 
 thou canst not say, I am not formed for them by nature. 
 Show those quahties then which are altogether in thy power : 
 sincerity, gravity, endurance of labour, aversion to pleasure, 
 contentment with thy portion and with few things, be- 
 nevolence, frankness, no love of superfluity, freedom from 
 trifling magnanimity. Dost thou not see how many qualities 
 thou art immediately able to exhibit, in which there is no 
 excuse of natural incapacity and unfitness, and yet thou still 
 remainest voluntarily below the mark? or art thou compelled 
 through being defectively furnished by nature to murmur, 
 and to be stingy, and to flatter, and to find fault with thy poor 
 body, and to try to please men, and to make great display, 
 and to be restless in thy mind? No, by the gods: but thou 
 mightest have been delivered from these things long ago. 
 Only if in truth thou canst be charged with being rather slow 
 and dull of comprehension, thou must exert thyself about 
 this also, not neglecting it nor yet taking pleasure in thy 
 dullness. 
 
 6. One m.an, when he has done a service to another, is 
 ready to set it down to his account as a favour conferred. 
 Another is not ready to do this, but still in his own mind he 
 thinks of the man as his debtor, and he knows what he has 
 done. A third in a manner does not even know what he has 
 done, but he is like a vine which has produced grapes, and 
 seeks for nothing more after it has once produced its proper 
 fruit. As a horse when he has run, a dog v/hen he has tracked 
 the game, a bee when it has made the honey, so a man 
 when he has done a good act, does not call out for others 
 to come and see, but he goes on to another act, as a vine goes 
 on to produce again the grapes in season. — Must a man then 
 be one of these, who in a manner act thus without observing 
 it? — Yes. — But this very thing is necessary, the observation 
 of what a man Is doing; for it may be said, it is characteristic 
 of the social animal to perceive that he is working in a social 
 manner, and indeed to wish that his social partner also should 
 perceive it. — It is true what thou sayest, but thou dost not 
 rightly understand what is now said; and for this reason 
 thou wilt become one of those of whom I spoke before, for 
 
 8 HC— Vol. 2 
 
226 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 even they are misled by a certain show of reason. But ii: 
 thou wilt choose to understand the meaning of what is said, 
 do not fear that for this reason thou wilt omit any social act. 
 
 7. A prayer of the Athenians: Rain, rain, O dear Zeus, 
 down on the plowed fields of the Athenians and on the plains. — 
 In truth we ought not to pray at all, or we ought to pray in 
 this simple and noble fashion. 
 
 8. Just as we must understand when it is said, That ^scu- 
 lapius prescribed to this man horse-exercise, or bathing in 
 cold water, or going without shoes, so we must understand 
 it when it is said, That the nature of the universe prescribed 
 to this man disease or mutilation or loss or anything else 
 of the kind. For in the first case prescribed means something 
 like this : he prescribed this for this man as a thing adapted 
 to procure health; and in the second case it means. That 
 which happens to [or suits] every man is fixed in a manner 
 for him suitably to his destiny. For this is what we mean 
 when we say that things are suitable to us, as the workmen 
 say of squared stones in walls or the pyramids, that they are 
 suitable, vv^hen they fit them to one another in some kind of 
 connection. For there is altogether one fitness [harmony]. 
 And as the universe is made up out of all bodies to be such 
 a body as it is, so out of all existing causes necessity [destiny] 
 is made up to be such a cause as it is. And even those who 
 are completely ignorant understand what I mean, for they 
 say, It [necessity, destiny] brought this to such a person. 
 — This, then, was brought and this was prescribed to him. 
 Let us then receive these things, as well as those which TEscu- 
 lapius prescribes. Many, as a matter of course, even among 
 his prescriptions, are disagreeable, but v/e accept them in 
 the hope of health. Let the perfecting and accomplishment 
 of the things, which the common nature judges to be good, 
 be judged by thee to be of the same kind as thy health. And 
 so accept everything which happens, even if it seem dis- 
 agreeable, because it leads to this, to the health of the 
 universe and to the prosperity and felicity of Zeus [the 
 universe] . For he would not have brought on any man what 
 he has brought, if it were not useful for the whole. Neithef 
 does the nature of anything, whatever it may be, cause 
 anything which is not suitable to that which is directed by it 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 227 
 
 For two reasons, theu, it is right to be content with that 
 which happens to thee ; the one, because it was done for thee 
 and prescribed for thee, and in a manner had reference to thee, 
 originally from the most ancient causes spun with thy destiny ; 
 and the other, because even that which comes severally to 
 every man is to the power which administers the universe a 
 cause of felicity and perfection, nay even of its very con- 
 tinuance. For the integrity of the whole is mutilated, if 
 thou cuttest oft anything whatever from the conjunction and 
 the continuity either of the parts or of the causes. And thou 
 dost cut off, as far as it is in thy power, when thou art 
 dissatisfied, and in a manner triest to put anything out of the 
 way. 
 
 9. Be not disgusted, nor discouraged, nor dissatisfied, if 
 thou dost not succeed in doing everything according to right 
 principles ; but V\7hen thou hast failed, return back again, and 
 be content if the greater part of what thou doest is con- 
 sistent with man's nature, and love this to which thou re- 
 turnest; and do not return to philosophy as if she were a 
 master, but act like those who have sore eyes and apply a 
 bit of sponge and egg, or as another applies a plaster, or 
 drenching with water. For thus thou wilt not fail to obey 
 reason and thou wilt repose in it. And remember that phi- 
 losophy requires only the things which thy nature requires; 
 but thou wouldst have something else which is not according 
 to nature. It may be objected. Why, what is more agree- 
 able than this [which I am doing] ? But is not this the very 
 reason why pleasure deceives us? And consider if magna- 
 nimity, freedom, simplicity, equanimity, piety are not more 
 agreeable. For what is m.ore agreeable than wisdom itself, 
 when thou thinkest of the security and the happy course of 
 all things which depend on the faculty of understanding 
 and knowledge? 
 
 10. Things are in such a kind of envelopment that they 
 have seemed to philosophers, not a few nor those common 
 philosophers, altogether unintelligible ; nay even to the Stoics 
 themselves they seem difficult to understand. And all our as- 
 sent is changeable; for where is the man who never changes? 
 Carry thy thoughts then to the objects themselves, and con- 
 sider how short-lived they are and worthless, and that they 
 
228 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 may be in the possession of a filthy wretch or a whore or a 
 robber. Then turn to the morals of those vdio live with 
 thee, and it is hardly possible to endure even the most agree- 
 able of them, to say nothing of a man being hardly able to 
 endure himself. In such darkness then, and dirt, and in so 
 constant a flux, both of substance and of time, and of m.otion, 
 and of things moved, what there is worth being highly prized, 
 or even an object of serious pursuit, I cannot imagine. But 
 on the contrary it is a man's duty to comfort himself, and 
 to wait for the natural dissolution and not to be vexed at 
 the delay, but to rest in these principles only: the one, that 
 nothing will happen to me which is not conformable to the 
 nature of the universe ; and the other, that it is in my power 
 never to act contrary to my god and daemon: for there is 
 no man who will compel me to this. 
 
 11. About what am I now employing my own soul? On 
 every occasion I must ask myself this question, and inquire, 
 what have I now in this part of me which they call the ruling 
 principle? and whose soul have I now? that of a child, or 
 of a young man^ or of a feeble woman, or of a tyrant, or of 
 a domestic animal, or of a wild beast 
 
 12. What kind of things those are which appear good to the 
 many, we may learn even from this. For if any man should 
 conceive certain things as being really good, such as pru- 
 dence, temperance, justice, fortitude, he would not after hav- 
 ing first conceived these endure to listen to anything which 
 should not be in harmony with what is really good. But 
 if a man has first conceived as good the things which appear 
 to the many to be good, he will listen and readily receive as 
 very applicable that which v^^as said by the comic writer. 
 Thus even the many perceive the difference. For were it 
 not so, this saying would not offend and would not be re- 
 jected [in the first case], while we receive it when it is said 
 of wealth, and of the means which further luxury and fame, 
 as said fitly and wittily. Go on then and ask if we should 
 value and think those things to be good, to which after their 
 first conception in the mind the words of the comic writer 
 might be aptly applied — that he who has them, through pure 
 abundance has not a place to ease himself in. 
 
 13. I am composed of the formal and the material; and 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 229 
 
 neither of them will perish into non-existence, as neither of 
 them came into existence out of non-existence. Every part 
 of me then will be reduced by change into some part of the 
 universe, and that again will change into another part of the 
 universe, and so on forever. And by consequence of such a 
 change I too exist, and those who begot me, and so on forever 
 in the other direction. For nothing hinders us from saying 
 so, even if the universe is administered according to definite 
 periods [of revolution]. 
 
 14. Reason and the reasoning art [philosophy] are powers 
 which are sufficient for themselves and for their own works. 
 They move then from a first principle which is their own, and 
 they make their way to the end which is proposed to them; 
 and this is the reason why such acts are named Catorthoseis 
 or right acts, which word signifies that they proceed by the 
 right road. 
 
 15. None of these things ought to be called a mean's which 
 do not belong to a man, as man. They are not required ol 
 a man, nor does man's nature promise them, nor are they the 
 means of man's nature attaining its end. Neither then does 
 the end of man lie in these things, nor yet that which aids 
 to the accomplishment of this end, and that which aids 
 tow^ard this end is that which is good. Besides, if any of these 
 things did belong to man, it would not be right for a man 
 to despise them and to set himself against them; nor would 
 a man be worthy of praise who showed that he did not want 
 these things, nor would he who stinted himself in any of them 
 be good, if indeed these things were good. But now the 
 m.ore of these things a man deprives himself of, or of other 
 things like them, or even when he is deprived of any of them, 
 the more patiently he endures the loss, just in the same de- 
 gree he is a better man. 
 
 16. Such as are thy habitual thoughts, such also will he the 
 character of thy mind; for the soul is dyed by the thoughts. 
 Dye it then with a continuous series of such thoughts as 
 these: for instance, that where a man can live, there he can 
 also live well. But he must live in a palace — well then, he 
 can also live well in a palace. And again, consider that for 
 whatever purpose each thing has been constituted, for this 
 it has been constituted, and toward this it is carried ; and its 
 
230 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 end is in that toward which it is carried ; and where the end 
 is, there also is the advantage and the good of each thing. 
 Now the good for the reasonable animal is society; for that 
 w^e are made for society has been shown above. Is it not 
 plain that the inferior exist for the sake of the superior? 
 but the things which have life are superior to those which 
 have not life, and of those which have life the superior are 
 those which have reason. 
 
 17. To seek what is impossible is madness: and it is im- 
 possible that the bad should not do something of this kind. 
 
 18. Nothing happens to any m^an which he is not formed 
 by nature to bear. The same things happen to another, and 
 either because he does not see that they have happened or 
 because he v/ould show a great spirit he is firm and remains 
 unharm^ed. ,It is a shame then that ignorance and conceit 
 should be stronger than vv^isdom. 
 
 19. Things themselves touch not the soul, not in the least 
 degree; nor have they admission to the soul, nor can they 
 turn or move the soul: but the soul turns and moves itself 
 alone, and whatever judgm.ents it may think proper to make, 
 such it makes for itself the things which present themselves 
 to it. 
 
 20. In one respect man is the nearest thing to me, so far 
 as I must do good to men and endure them. But so far as 
 some men make themselves obstacles to my proper acts, 
 man becomes to me one of the things which are indifferent, 
 no less than the sun or wind or a wild beast. Now it is true 
 that these may impede my action, but they are no impedi- 
 ments to my affects and disposition, which have the power 
 of acting conditionally and changing: for the mind converts 
 and changes every hindrance to its activity into an aid ; and so 
 that which is a hindrance is made a furtherance to an act ; and 
 that which is an obstacle on the road helps us on this road. 
 
 21. Reverence that which is best in the universe; and this 
 is that which makes use of all things and directs all things. 
 And in like manner also reverence that which is best in thy- 
 self; and this of the same kind as that. For in thyself also, 
 that which makes use of everything else, is this, and thy life 
 is directed by this. 
 
 22. That which does no harm to the state, does no harm to 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 231 
 
 the citizen. In the case of every appearance of harm apply this 
 rule : if the state is not harmed by this, neither am I harmed. 
 But if the state is harmed, thou must not be angry with him 
 who does harm to the state. Show him where his error is. 
 
 23. Often think of the rapidity with which things pass by 
 and disappear, both the things which are and the things 
 which are produced. For substance is like a river in a con- 
 tinual flow, and the activities of things are in constant 
 change, and the causes work in infinite varieties ; and there 
 is hardly anything which stands still. And consider this 
 which is near to thee, this boundless abyss of the past and 
 of the future in which all things disappear. How then is 
 he not a fool who is puffed up with such things or plagued 
 about them or makes himself miserable? for they vex him 
 only for a time, and a short time. 
 
 24. Think of the universal substance, of which thou hast 
 a very small portion ; and of universal time, of which a short 
 and indivisible interval has been assigned to thee ; and of that 
 which is fixed by destin}'', and how small a part of it thou art. 
 
 25. Does another do me wrong? Let him look to it. He 
 has his own disposition^ his own activity. I now have what 
 the universal nature wills me to have; and I do what my 
 nature now wills me to do. 
 
 26. Let the part of thy soul which leads and governs be 
 undisturbed by the movements in the flesh, v\^hether of 
 pleasure or of pain; and let it not unite with them, but let 
 it circumscribe itself and limit those affects to their parts. 
 But when these affects rise up to the mind by virtue of that 
 other sympathy that naturally exists in a body which is all 
 one, then thou must not strive to resist the sensation, for 
 it is natural : but let not the ruling part of itself add to the 
 sensation the opinion that it is either good or bad. 
 
 27. Live with the gods. And he does live with the gods 
 who constantly shows to them that his own soul is satisfied 
 with that which is assigned to him, and that it does all that 
 the daemion wishes, which Zeus hath given to every man for 
 his guardian and guide, a portion of himself. And this is 
 every man's understanding and reason. 
 
 28. Art thou angry with him whose arm-pits stink? art 
 thou angry with him whose mouth smells foul ? What good 
 
232 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 will this anger do thee ? He has such a mouth, he has such 
 arm-pits: it is necessary that such an emanation must come 
 from such things — but the man has reason, it will be said, 
 and he is able, if he takes pains, to discover wherein he 
 offends — I wish thee well of thy discovery. Well, then, and 
 thou hast reason : by thy rational faculty stir up his rational 
 faculty ; show him. his error, admonish him. For if he listens, 
 thou wilt cure him, and there is no need of anger. [Neither 
 tragic actor nor whore.^ ] 
 
 29. As thou intendest to live when thou are gone out, . . . 
 so it is in thy power to live here. But if men do not permit 
 thee, then get away out of life, yet so as if thou wert suffer- 
 ing no harm. The house is smoky, and I quit it. Why dost 
 thou think that this is any trouble? But so long as nothing 
 of the kind drives me out, I remain, am free, and no man 
 shall hinder me from doing what I choose; and I choose 
 to do what is according to the nature of the rational and 
 social anim-al. 
 
 30. The intelligence of the universe is social. Accordingly 
 it has made the inferior things for the sake of the superior, 
 and it has fitted the superior to one another. Thou seest 
 how it has subordinated, co-ordinated and assigned to every- 
 thing its proper portion, and has brought together into con- 
 cord with one another the things which are the best. 
 
 31. How hast thou behaved hitherto to the gods, thy 
 parents, brethren, children, teachers, to those who looked 
 after thy infancy, to thy friends, kinsfolk, to thy slaves? 
 Consider if thou hast hitherto behaved to all in such a way 
 that this may be said of thee : 
 
 Never has wronged a man in deed or word. 
 
 And call to recollection both how many things thou hast 
 passed through, and how many things thou hast been able 
 to endure: and that the history of thy life is nov/ complete, 
 and thy service is ended: and how many beautiful things 
 thou hast seen : and how many pleasures and pains thou hast 
 despised; and how many things called honourable thou hast 
 spurned; and to how many ill-minded folks thou hast shown 
 a kind disposition. 
 
 ^ This sentence is imperfect or corrupt, or both. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUREOUS 233 
 
 32. Why do unskilled and ignorant souls disturb him who 
 has skill and knowledge? What soul then has skill and 
 knowledge? That which knows beginning and end, and 
 knows the reason which pervades all substance and through 
 all time by fixed periods [revolutions] administers the uni- 
 verse. 
 
 33. Soon, very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or a skeleton, 
 and either a name or not even a name; but name is sound 
 and echo, and the things which are much valued in life are 
 empty and rotten and trifling, and [like] little dogs biting 
 one another, and little children quarrelling, laughing, and 
 then straightv/ay weeping. But fidelity and modesty and jus- 
 tice and truth are fled 
 
 Up to Olympus from the wide-spread earth. 
 
 Hesiod, Works, etc., v. 197. 
 
 What then is there which still detains thee here? if 
 the objects of sense are easily changed and never stand still, 
 and the organs of perception are dull and easily receive false 
 impressions; and the poor soul itself is an exhalation from 
 blood. But to have good repute amid such a world as this 
 is an empty thing. Why then dost thou not wait in tran- 
 quillity for thy end, whether it is extinction or removal to 
 another state? And until that time comes, what is sufficient? 
 Why, what else than to venerate the gods and bless them, 
 and to do good to men, and to practice tolerance and self- 
 restraint; but as to everything which is beyond the limits 
 of the poor flesh and breath, to remember that this is neither 
 thine nor in thy power. 
 
 34. Thou canst pass thy life in an equable flow of happi- 
 ness, if thou canst go by the right way, and think and act in 
 the right way. These two things are common both to the 
 soul of God and to the soul of man, and to the soul of every 
 rational being, not to be hindered by another; and to hold 
 good to consist in the disposition to justice and the practice 
 of it, and in this to let thy desire find its termination. 
 
 35. If this is neither my own badness, nor an effect of my 
 own badness, and the common weal is not injured, why am 
 I troubled about it? and what is the harm to the common 
 weal ? ^ 
 
 36. Do not be carried along inconsiderately by the appear- 
 
234 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 ance of things, but give help [to all] according to thy ability 
 and their fitness; and if they should have sustained loss in 
 matters wl^ch are indifferent, do not imagine this to be a 
 damage. For it is a bad habit. But as the old man, when 
 he went away, asked back his foster-child's top, remember- 
 ing that it was a top, so do thou in this case also. 
 
 When thou art calling out on the Rostra, hast thou for- 
 gotten, man, what these things are? Yes; but they are 
 objects of great concern to these people- — wilt thou too then 
 be made a fool for these things? I was once a fortunate 
 man, but I lost it, I know not how. But fortunate means 
 that a man has assigned to himself a good fortune; and a 
 good fortune is good disposition of the soul, good emotions, 
 good actions, 
 
 VI 
 
 f I "^HE substance of the universe is obedient and complin 
 ant; and the reason which governs it has in itself 
 no cause for doing evil, for it has no malice, nor does 
 it do evil to anything, nor is anything harmed by it. But 
 all things are made and perfected according to this reason. 
 
 2. Let it make no difference to thee whether thou art cold 
 or warm, if thou art doing thy duty; and whether thou art 
 drowsy or satisfied with sleep; and whether ill-spoken of 
 or praised ; and whether dying or doing something else. For 
 it is one of the acts of this life, this act by which we 
 die; it is sufficient then in this act also to do well what we 
 have in hand (vi. 22, 28). 
 
 3. Look within. Let neither the peculiar quality of any- 
 thing nor its value escape thee. 
 
 4. All existing things soon change, and they will either 
 be reduced to vapor, if indeed all substance is one, or they 
 will be dispersed. 
 
 5. The reason which governs knows what its own dis- 
 position is, and what it does, and on what material it works. 
 
 6. The best way of avenging thyself is not to become like 
 [the wrong doer]. 
 
 7. Take pleasure in one thing and rest in it, in passing 
 from one social act to another social act, thinking of God. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 235 
 
 8. The ruling principle is that which rouses and turns 
 itself, and while it makes itself such as it is and such as 
 it wills to be, it also makes everything which happens appear 
 to itself to be such as it wills. 
 
 9. In conformity to the nature of the universe every single 
 thing is accomplished, for certainly it is not in conformity 
 to any other nature that each thing is accomplished, either a 
 nature which externally comprehends this, or a nature which 
 is comprehended within this nature, or a nature external 
 and independent of this (xi. i, vi. 40, viii. 50). 
 
 10. The universe is either a confusion, and a mutual in- 
 volution of things, and a dispersion ; or it is unity and order 
 and providence. If then it is the former, why do I desire 
 to tarry in a fortuitous combination of things and such a 
 disorder? and why do I care about anything else than how 
 I shall at last become earth? and why am I disturbed, for 
 the dispersion of my elements will happen whatever I do. 
 But if the other supposition is true, I venerate, and I am 
 firm, and I trust in him who governs (iv. 27). 
 
 11. When thou hast been compelled by circumstances to 
 be disturbed in a manner, quickly return to thyself and do 
 not continue out of tune longer than the com.pulsion lasts; 
 for thou wilt have more mastery over the harmony by con- 
 tinually recurring to it. 
 
 12. If thou hast a step-mother and a mother at the same 
 time, thou wouldst be dutiful to thy step-mother, but still 
 thou w^ouldst constantly return to thy mother. Lei: the 
 court and philosophy now be to thee step-mother and mother ; 
 return to philosophy frequently and repose in her, through 
 whom what thou meetest with in the court appears to thee 
 tolerable, and thou appearest tolerable in the court. 
 
 13. When we have meat before us and such eatables, we 
 receive the impression, that this is the dead body of a fish, 
 and this is the dead body of a bird or of a pig; and again, 
 that this Falernian is only a little grape juice, and this 
 purple robe some sheep's wool dyed with the blood of a 
 shell-fish; such then are these impressions, and they reach 
 the things themselves and penetrate them, and so we see 
 what kind of things they are. Just in the same way ought 
 we to act aU through life, and where there are things which 
 
236 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 appear most worthy of our approbation, we ought to 
 lay them bare and look at their worthlessness, and strip 
 them of all the words by which they are exalted. For 
 outward show is a wonderful perverter of the reason, 
 and when thou art most sure that thou art employed 
 about things worth thy pains, it is then that it cheats 
 thee most. Consider then what Crates says of Xenocrates 
 himself. 
 
 14. Most of the things which the multitude admire are 
 referred to objects of the most general kind, those which 
 are held together by cohesion or natural organization, such 
 as stones, wood, fig-trees, vines, olives. But those which 
 are admired by men, who are a little more reasonable, are 
 referred to the things which are held together by a living 
 principle, as flocks, herds. Those which are admired by men 
 who are still more instructed are the things which are held 
 together by a rational soul, not however a universal soul, 
 but rational so far as it is a soul skilled in some art, or 
 expert in some other v/ay, or simply rational so far as it 
 possesses a number of slaves. But he who values a rational 
 soul, a soul universal and fitted for political life, regards 
 nothing else except this; and above all things he keeps his 
 soul in a condition and in an activity conformable to reason 
 and social life, and he co-operates to this end with those who 
 are of the same kind as himself. 
 
 15. Som.e things are hurrying into existence, and others 
 are hurrying out of it ; and of that which is coming into ex- 
 istence part is already extinguished. Motions and changes 
 are continually renewing the world, just as the uninterrupted 
 course of time is always renewing the infinite duration of 
 ages. In this ilowing stream then, on which there is no 
 abiding, v/hat is there of the things which hurry by on which 
 a man would set a high price? It would be just as if a 
 man should fall in love with one of the sparrows which ^y 
 by, but it has already passed out of sight. Something of this 
 kind is the very life of every man, like the exhalation of the 
 blood and the respiration of the air. For such as it is to 
 have once drawn in the air and to have given it back, which 
 we do every moment, just the same is it with the whole 
 respiratory power, which thou didst receive at thy birth 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 237 
 
 yesterday and the day before, to give it back to the element 
 from which thou didst first draw it. 
 
 i6. Neither is transpiration, as in plants, a thing to be 
 valued, nor respiration, as in domesticated animals and wild 
 beasts, nor the receiving of impressions by the appearances 
 of things, nor being moved by desires as puppets by strings, 
 nor assembling in herds, nor being nourished by food; for 
 this is just like the act of separating and parting with the 
 useless part of our food. What then is worth being valued? 
 To be received with clapping of hands ? No. Neither must we 
 value the clapping of tongues, for the praise which comes from 
 the many is a clapping of tongues. Suppose then that thou 
 hast given up this worthless thing called fame, what remains 
 that is worth valuing? This, in my opinion, to move thyself 
 and to restrain thyself in conformity to thy proper constitu- 
 tion, to which end both all employm^ents and arts lead. For 
 every art aims at this, that the thing which has been made 
 should be adapted to the work for which it has been made; 
 and both the vine-planter who looks after the vine, and the 
 horse-breaker, and he who trains the dog, seek this end. 
 But the education and the teaching of youth aim at some- 
 thing. In this then is the value of the education and the 
 teaching. And if this is well, thou wilt not seek anything 
 else. Wilt thou not cease to value many other things too? 
 Then thou wilt be neither free, nor sufficient for thy own 
 happiness, nor without passion. For of necessity thou must 
 be envious, jealous, and suspicious of those who can take 
 away those things, and plot against those who have that 
 which is valued by thee. Of necessity a man must be alto- 
 gether in a state of perturbation who wants any of these 
 things; and besides, he must often fimd fault with the gods. 
 But to reverence and honour thy own mind will make thee 
 content with thyself, and in harmony with society, and in 
 agreement with the gods, that is, praising all that they give 
 and have ordered. 
 
 17. Above, below, all around are the movements of the 
 elements. But the motion of virtue is in none of these; it 
 is something more divine, and advancing by a way hardly 
 observed it goes happily on its road. 
 
 18. How strangely men act. They will not praise those 
 
238 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 who are living at the same time and living with themselves ; 
 but to be themselves praised by posterity, by those whom 
 they have never seen or ever will see, this they set much 
 value on. But this is very much the same as if thou shouldst 
 be grieved because those who have lived before thee did not 
 praise thee. 
 
 19. If a thing is difficult to be accomplished by thyself, 
 do not think that it is impossible for m.an; but if anything 
 is possible for m.an and conformable to his nature, think 
 that this can be attained by thyself too. 
 
 20. In the gymnastic exercises suppose that a man has 
 torn thee with his nails, and by dashing against thy head 
 has inflicted a wound. Well, we neither show any signs of 
 vexation, nor are we offended, nor do we suspect him after- 
 ward as a treacherous fellow ; and yet we are on our guard 
 against him, not however as an enemy, nor yet with suspicion, 
 but we quietly get out of his way. Something like this let thy 
 behaviour be in all the other parts of life; let us overlook 
 many things in those who are like antagonists in the gym- 
 nasium. For it is in our power, as I said, to get out of 
 the way, and to have no suspicion nor hatred. 
 
 21. If any man is able to convince me and show me that 
 I do not think or act right, I will gladly change; for I seek 
 the truth by which no man was ever injured. But he is in- 
 jured who abides in his error and ignorance. 
 
 22. I do my duty: other things trouble me not; for they 
 are either things without life, or things without reason, or 
 things that have rambled and know not the way. 
 
 23. As to the animxals which have no reason, and generally 
 all things and objects, do thou, since thou hast reason and 
 they have none, make use of them with a generous and 
 liberal spirit. But toward human beings, as they have 
 reason, behave in a social spirit. And on all occasions call 
 on the gods, and do not perplex thyself about the length 
 of time in which thou shalt do this; for even three hours 
 so spent are sufficient. 
 
 24. Alexander the Macedonian and his groom by death 
 were brought to the same state ; for either they were received 
 among the same seminal principles of the universe, ©r they 
 were alike dispersed among the atoms. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 239 
 
 25. Consider how many things in the same indivisible 
 time take place in each of us, things which concern the body 
 and things which concern the soul; and so thou wilt not 
 wonder if many more things, or rather all things which come 
 into existence in that which is the one and all, which we 
 call Cosmos, exist in it at the same time. 
 
 26. If any man should propose to thee the question, how 
 the name Antoninus is written, wouldst thou with a straining 
 of the voice utter each letter? What then if they grow 
 angry, wilt thou be angry too? Wilt thou not go on with 
 composure and number every letter? Just so then in this 
 life also remember that every duty is made up of certain 
 parts. These it is thy duty to observe and without being 
 disturbed or showing anger toward those who are angry 
 with thee to go on thy way and finish that which is set before 
 thee. 
 
 2.y, How cruel it is not to allow men to strive after the 
 things which appear to them to be suitable to their nature 
 and profitable ! And yet in a manner thou dost not allow 
 them to do this, when thou art vexed because they do wrong. 
 For they are certainly moved toward things because they 
 suppose them to be suitable to their nature and profitable 
 to them. But it is not so. Teach them then, and show them 
 without being angry. 
 
 28. Death is a cessation of the impressions through the 
 senses, and of the pulling of the strings which move the ap- 
 petites, and of the discursive movements of the thoughts, 
 and of the service to the flesh (ii. 12). 
 
 29. It is a shame for the soul to be first to give way in this 
 life, when thy body does not give way. 
 
 30. Take care that thou art not made into a Caesar, 
 that thou art not dyed with this dye; for such 
 things happen. Keep thyself then simple, good, pure, 
 serious, free from affectation, a friend of justice, a worshiper 
 of the gods, kind, affectionate, strenuous in all proper acts. 
 Strive to continue to be such as philosophy wished to make 
 thee. Reverence the gods, and help men. Short is life. 
 There is only one fruit of this terrene life, a pious disposition 
 and social acts. Do everything as a disciple of Antoninus. 
 Remember his constancy in every act .which was conformable 
 
240 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 to reason, and his evenness in all things, and his piety, and 
 the serenity of his countenance, and his sweetness, and his 
 disregard of empty fame, and his efforts to understand 
 things; and how he would never let anything pass without 
 having first most carefully examined it and clearly under- 
 stood it; and how he bore with those who blamed him un- 
 justly without blaming them in return; how he did nothing 
 in a hurry; and how he listened not to calumnies, and how 
 exact an examiner of manners and actions he was; and not 
 given to reproach people, nor timid, nor suspicious, nor a 
 sophist ; and with how little he was satisfied, such as lodging, 
 bed, dress, food, servants; and how laborious and patient; 
 and how he was able on account of his sparing diet to hold 
 out to the evening, not even requiring to relieve himself by 
 any evacuations except at the usual hour; and his firmness 
 and uniformity in his friendships; and how he tolerated 
 freedom of speech in those who opposed his opinions; 
 and the pleasure that he had when any man showed him 
 anything better; and how religious he was without 
 superstition. Imitate all this that thou mayest have as 
 good a conscience, when thy last hour comes, as he had 
 (i. i6). 
 
 31. Return to thy sober senses and call thyself back; and 
 when thou hast roused thyself from sleep and hast perceived 
 that they were only dreams which troubled thee, now in thy 
 waking hours look at these [the things about thee] as thou 
 didst look at those [the dreams]. 
 
 32. I consist of a little body and a soul. Now to this little 
 body all things are indifferent, for it is not able to perceive 
 differences. But to the understanding those things only are 
 indifferent, which are not the works of its own activity. But 
 whatever things are the works of its own activity, all these 
 are in its power. And of these however only those which 
 are done with reference to the present; for as to the future 
 and the past activities of the mind, even these are for the 
 present indifferent. 
 
 33. Neither the labor which the hand does nor that of 
 the foot is contrary to nature, so long as the foot does the 
 foot's work and the hand the hand's. So then neither to a 
 man as a man is his labor contrary to nature, so long as it 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 241 
 
 does the things of a man. But if the labor is not contrary 
 to his nature, neither is it an evil to him. 
 
 34. How many pleasures have been enjoyed by robbers, 
 patricides, tyrants. 
 
 35. Dost thou not see how the handicraftsmen accommo- 
 date themselves up to a certain point to those who are not 
 skilled in their craft — nevertheless they cling to the reason 
 [the principles] of their art and do not endure to depart 
 from it? Is it not strange if the architect and the physician 
 shall have more respect to the reason [the principles] of 
 their own arts than man to his own reason, which is common 
 to him and the gods ? 
 
 36. Asia, Europe are corners of the universe; all the sea 
 a drop in the universe; Athos a little clod of the universe; 
 all the present time is a point in eternity. All things are 
 little, changeable, perishable. All things come from thence, 
 from that universal ruling power either directly proceeding 
 or by way of sequence. And accordingly the lion's gap- 
 ing jaws, and that which is poisonous, and every harmful 
 thing, as a thorn, as mud, are after-products of the grand 
 and beautiful. Do not then imagine that they are of another 
 kind from that which thou dost venerate, but form a just 
 opinion of the source of all (vii. 75). 
 
 37. He who has seen present things has seen all, both 
 everything which has taken place from all eternity and every- 
 thing v/hich will be for time without end; for all things are 
 of one kin and of one form. 
 
 38. Frequently consider the connection of all things in the 
 universe and their relation to one another. . For in a manner 
 all things are implicated with one another, . and all in this 
 way are friendly to one another; for one thing comes in 
 order after another, and this is by virtue of the active move- 
 ment and mutual conspiration and the unity of the substance 
 (ix. I). 
 
 39. Adapt thyself to the things with which thy lot has 
 been cast; and the men among whom thou hast received thy 
 portion, love them, but do it truly [sincerely]. 
 
 40. Bvery instrument, tool, vessel, if it does that for which 
 it has been made, is well, and yet he Vi^ho made it is not 
 there. But in the things which are held together by nature 
 
242 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 there is within and there abides in them the power which 
 made them; wherefore the more is it fit to reverence this 
 power, and to think, that, if thou dost live and act according 
 to its will, everything in thee is in conformity to intelHgence. 
 And thus also in the universe the things which belong to 
 it are in conformity to intelligence. 
 
 41. Whatever of the things which are not within thy power 
 thou shalt suppose to be good for thee or evil, it must of 
 necessity be that, if such a bad thing befall thee or the loss 
 of such a good thing, thou wilt blame the gods, and hate men 
 too, those who are the cause of the misfortune or the loss, or 
 those who are suspected of being likely to be the cause; and 
 indeed we do much injustice, because we make a difference 
 between these things [because we do not regard these things 
 as indifferent]. But if we judge only those things which 
 are in our power to be good or bad, there remains no reason 
 either for finding fault with God or standing in a hostile 
 attitude to man. 
 
 42. We are all working together to one end, some with 
 knowledge and design, and others without knowing what 
 they do; as men also when they are asleep, of whom it is 
 Heraclitus, I think, who says that they are labourers and co- 
 operators in the things which take place in the universe. 
 But m.en co-operate after different fashions : and even those 
 co-operate abundantly, who find fault with vdiat happens 
 and those who try to oppose it and to hinder it; for the 
 universe had need even of such men as these. It remains 
 then for thee to understand among what kind of workmen 
 thou placest thyself; for he w'ho rules all things will cer- 
 tainly make a right use of thee, and he w^ill receive thee 
 among some part of the co-operators and of those whose 
 labours conduce to one end. But be not thou such a part 
 as the mean and ridiculous verse in the play, which Chrysip- 
 pus speaks of. 
 
 43. Does the sun undertake to do the work of the rain, 
 or ^sculapius the work of the Fruit-bearer [the earth] ? 
 And how is it with respect to each of the stars, are they not 
 different, and yet they work together to the same end? 
 
 44. If the gods have determined about me and about the 
 things which must happen to me, they have determined well. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 243 
 
 for it is not easy even to imagine a deity without fore- 
 thought; and as to doing me harm, why should they have 
 any desire towards that? for what advantage would result 
 to them from this or to the whole, which is the special object 
 of their providence ? But if they have not determined about 
 me individually, they have certainly determined about the 
 whole at least, and the things which happen by way of 
 sequence in this general arrangement I ought to accept with 
 pleasure and to be content with them. But if they determine 
 about nothing — which it is wicked to believe, or if we do 
 believe it, let us neither sacrifice nor pray nor sv/ear by 
 them, nor do anything else which we do as if the gods were 
 present and lived with us — but if however the gods deter- 
 mine about none of the things which concern us, I am able 
 to determine about myself, and I can inquire about that 
 which is useful; and that is useful to every man which is 
 conformable to his ov/n constitution and nature. But my 
 nature is rational and social; and my city and country, so 
 far as I am Antoninus, is Rome, but so far as I am a man, 
 it is the world. The things then which are useful to these 
 cities are alone useful to me. 
 
 45. Whatever happens to every man, this is for the in- 
 terest of the universal ; this might be sufficient. But further 
 thou wilt observe this also as a general truth, if thou dost 
 observe, that whatever is profitable to any man is profitable 
 also to other m.en. But let the word profitable be taken here 
 in the common sense as said of things of the middle kind 
 [neither good nor bad]. 
 
 46. As it happens to thee in the amphitheatre and such 
 places, that the continual sight of the same things and the 
 uniformity make the spectacle wearisome, so it is in the 
 whole of life; for all things above, below, are the same and 
 from the same. How long then ? 
 
 47. Think continually that all kinds of men and of all 
 kinds of pursuits and of all nations are dead, so that thy 
 thoughts come down even to Philistion and Phoebus and 
 Origanion. Now turn thy thoughts to the other kinds [of 
 men}. To that place then we must rem.ove, where there 
 are so many great orators, and so many noble philosophers, 
 Heraclitus, Pythagoras^ Socrates; so many heroes of for- 
 
244 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 mer days, and so many generals after them, and tyrants; 
 besides these, Eudoxus, Hipparchus, Archimedes, and other 
 men of acute natural talents, great minds, lovers of labor, 
 versatile, confident, mockers even of the perishable and 
 ephemeral life of man, as Menippus and such as are like 
 him. As to all these consider that they have long been in 
 the dust What harm then is this to them; and what to 
 those whose names are altogether unknown? One thing 
 here is worth a great deal, to pass thy life in truth and 
 justice, with a benevolent disposition even to liars and un- 
 just men. 
 
 48. When thou wishest to delight thyself, think of the 
 virtues of those who live with thee ; for instance, the activity 
 of one, and the modesty of another, and the liberality of a 
 third, and some other good quality of a fourth. For nothing 
 delights so much as the examples of the virtues, when they 
 are exhibited in the morals of those who live with us and 
 present themselves in abundance, as far as is possible. 
 Wherefore we must keep them before us. 
 
 49. Thou art not dissatisfied, I suppose, because thou 
 weighest only so many litre and not three hundred. Be 
 not dissatisfied then that thou must live only so many years 
 and not more; for as thou art satisfied with the amount of 
 substance which has been assigned to thee, so be content 
 with the time. 
 
 50. Let us try to persuade them [men]. But act even 
 against their will, when the principles of justice lead that 
 way. If, however, any man by using force stands in thy 
 ,way, betake thyself to contentment and tranquillity, and at 
 the same time employ the hindrance toward the exercise 
 of some other virtue; and remember that thy attempt was 
 with a reservation [conditionally], that thou didst not desire 
 to do impossibilities. What then didst thou desire? Some 
 such effort as this. But thou attainest thy object, if the 
 things to which thou wast moved are [not] accomplished. 
 
 51. He who loves fame considers another man'ii activity 
 to be his own good ; and he who loves pleasure, his own sen- 
 sations ; but he who has understanding, considers his own 
 acts to be his own good. 
 
 ^2. It is in our power to have no opinion about a thing. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 245 
 
 and not to be disturbed in our soul, for things themselves 
 have no natural power to form our judgments. 
 
 53. Accustom thyself to attend carefully to what is said 
 by another, and as much as it is possible, be in the speaker's 
 mind. 
 
 54. That which is not good for the swarm, neither is it 
 good for the bee. 
 
 55. If sailors abused the helmsman or the sick the doctor, 
 would they listen to anybody else; or how could the helms- 
 man secure the safety of those in the ship or the doctor the 
 health of those whom he attends? 
 
 56. How many together with whom I came into the world 
 are already gone out of it. 
 
 57. To the jaundiced honey tastes bitter, and to those 
 bitten by mad dogs water causes fear; and to little children 
 the ball is a fine thing. Why then am I angry? Dost thou 
 think that a false opinion has less power than the bile in 
 the jaundiced or the poison in him who is bitten by a mad 
 dog? 
 
 58. No man will hinder thee from living according to the 
 reason of thy own nature : nothing will happen to thee con- 
 trary to the reason of the universal nature. 
 
 59. What kind of people are those whom men wish to 
 please, and for what objects, and by what kind of acts? 
 How soon will time cover all things, and how many it has 
 covered already, 
 
 VII 
 
 HAT is badness? It is that which thou hast often 
 seen. And on the occasion of everything which hap- 
 pens keep this in mind, that it is that which thou 
 hast often seen. Everywhere up and down thou wilt find the 
 same things, with which the old histories are filled, those 
 of the middle ages and those of our own day; with whicH 
 cities and houses are filled now. There is nothing new; 
 all things are both familiar and short-lived. 
 
 2. How can our principles become dead, unless the im- 
 pressions [thoughts] which correspond to them are extin- 
 guished? But it is in thy power continuously to fan these 
 
246 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 thoughts into a flame. I can have that opinion about any- 
 thing, which I ought to have. If I can, why am I disturbed? 
 The things which are external to my mind have no relation 
 at all to my mind. Let this be the state of thy affects, and 
 thou standest erect. To recover thy life is in thy power. 
 Look at things again as thou didst use to look at them; for 
 in this consists the recovery of thy life. 
 
 3. The idle business of show, plays on the stage, flocks of 
 sheep, herds, exercises with spears, a bone to cast to little dogs, 
 a bit of bread into fish-ponds, laborings of ants and burden- 
 carrying, runnings about of frightened little mice, puppets 
 pulled by strings — [all alike]. It is thy duty then in the midst 
 of such things to show good humour and not a proud air; to 
 understand, however, that every m.an is worth just so much 
 as the things are worth about which he busies himself. 
 
 4. In discourse thou must attend to what is said, and in 
 every movem.ent thou must observe what is doing. And in 
 the one thou shouldst see immediately to Vv^hat end it refers, 
 but in the other watch carefully what is the thing signified. 
 
 5. Is my understanding sufficient for this or not? If it is 
 sufficient I use it for the work as an instrument given by 
 the universal nature. But if it is not sufficient, then either I 
 retire from the work and give way to him who is able to do 
 it better, unless there be some reason why I ought not to do 
 so ; or I do it as well as I can, taking to help me the man who 
 with the aid of my ruling principle can do what is now fit 
 and useful for the general good. For whatsoever either by 
 myself or with another I can do, ought to be directed to this 
 only, to that which is useful and well-suited to society. 
 
 6. How many after being celebrated by fame have been 
 given up to oblivion ; and how many who have celebrated the 
 fame of others have long been dead. 
 
 7. Be not ashamed to be helped; for it is thy business to 
 do thy duty like a soldier in the assault on a town. How 
 then, if being lame thou canst not mount up on the battle- 
 ments alone, but with the help of another it is possible? 
 
 8. Let not future things disturb thee, for thou wilt come 
 to them, if it shall be necessary, having with thee the same 
 reason which now thou usest for present things. 
 
 9. All things are implicated with one another, and the 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 247 
 
 bond is holy ; and there is hardly anything unconnected with 
 any other thing. For things have been co-ordinated, and 
 they combine to form the same universe [order]. For there 
 in one universe made up of all things, and one god who 
 pervades all things, and one substance, and one law, [one] 
 common reason in all intelligent animals, and one truth; if 
 indeed there is also one perfection for all animals which are 
 of the same stock and participate in the same reason. 
 
 10. Everything material soon disappears in the substance 
 of the whole; and everything formal [causal] is very soon 
 taken back into the universal reason; and the memory of 
 everything is very soon overwhelmed in time. 
 
 11. To the rational animal the same act is according to 
 nature and according to reason. 
 
 12. Be thou erect, or be made erect (iii. 5). 
 
 13. Just as it is with the members in those bodies which 
 are united in one, so it is with rational beings which exist 
 separate, for they have been constituted for one co-operation. 
 And the perception of this will be more apparent to thee, 
 if thou often sayest to thyself that I am a member [/xe/lo?] 
 of the system of rational beings. But if [using the letter r] 
 thou sayest that thou art a part [/af/909], thou dost not yet 
 love men from thy heart ; beneficence does not yet delight thee 
 for its own sake ; thou still doest it barely as a thing of pro- 
 priety, and not yet as doing good to thyself. 
 
 14. Let there fall externally what will on the parts which 
 can feel the effects of this fail. For those parts which have 
 felt will complain, if they choose. But I, unless I think 
 that what has happened is an evil, am not injured. And it 
 is in my povv^er not to think so. 
 
 15. Whatever any one does or says, I m.ust be good, just 
 as if the gold, or the emerald, or the purple were always say- 
 ing this. Whatever any one does or says, I must be emerald 
 and keep my color. 
 
 16. The ruling faculty does not disturb itself; I mean, 
 does not frighten itself or cause itself pain. But if any one 
 else can frighten or pain it, let him do so. For the faculty 
 itself will not by its own opinion turn into such ways. Let 
 the body itself take care, if it can, that it suffer nothing, and 
 let it speak, if it suffers. But the soul itself, that which is 
 
248 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 subject to fear, to pain, which has completely the power of 
 forming an opinion about these things, will suffer nothing, 
 for it will never deviate into such a judgment. The leading 
 principle in itself v/ants nothing, unless it makes a want 
 for itself; and therefore it is both free from perturbation and 
 unimpeded, if it does not disturb and impede itself. 
 
 17. Eudaemonia [happiness] is a good daemon, or a good 
 thing. What then art thou doing here, O imagination? go 
 away, I entreat thee by the gods, as thou didst come, for 
 I want thee not. But thou art come according to thy old 
 fashion. I am. not angry with thee; only go away. 
 
 18. Is any man afraid of change? Why what can take 
 place without change ? What then is more pleasing or more 
 suitable to the universal nature ? And canst thou take a bath 
 unless the wood undergoes a change? And canst thou be 
 nourished, unless the food undergoes a change? And can 
 anything else that is useful be accomplished without change? 
 Dost thou not see then that for thyself also to change is just 
 the same, and equally necessary for the universal nature? 
 
 19. Through the universal substance as through a furious 
 torrent all bodies are carried, being by their nature united 
 with and co-operating with the whole, as the parts of our 
 body with one another. How many a Chrysippus, how many 
 a Socrates, how many an Epictetus has time already swal- 
 lowed up ? And let the same thought occur to thee with ref- 
 erence to every man and thing (v. 23; vi. 15). 
 
 20. One thing only troubles me, lest I should do something 
 which the constitution of man does not allow, or in the 
 way which it does not allow, or what it does not allow now. 
 
 21. Near is thy forgetfulness of all things; and near the 
 forgetfulness of thee by all. 
 
 22. It is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong. 
 And this happens, if when they do wrong it occurs to thee 
 that they are kinsmen, and that they do wrong through igno- 
 rance and unintentionally, and that soon both of you will die ; 
 and above all, that the wrong-doer has done thee no harm, 
 for he has not made thy ruling faculty worse than it was 
 before. 
 
 23. The universal nature out of the universal substance, 
 as if it were v/ax, now moulds a horse, and when it has broken 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 249 
 
 this up, it uses the material for a tree, then for a man, then 
 for something else; and each of these things subsists for a 
 very short time. But it is no hardship for the vessel to be 
 broken up, just as there was none in its being fastened to- 
 gether (viii. 50). 
 
 24. A scov/ling look is altogether unnatural; v/hen it is 
 often assumed, the result is that all comeliness dies away, 
 and at last is so completely extinguished that it cannot be 
 again lighted up at all. Try to conclude from this very fact 
 that it is contrary to reason. For if even the perception of 
 doing wrong shall depart, what reason is there for living 
 any longer? 
 
 25. Nature which governs the whole will soon change 
 all things which thou seest, and out of their substance will 
 make other things, and again other things from the 
 substance of them, in order that the world may be ever 
 new (xii. 23). 
 
 26. When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately 
 consider with what opinion about good or evil he has done 
 wrong. For when thou hast seen this, thou wilt pity him, and 
 wilt neither wonder nor be angry. For either thou thyself 
 thinkest the same thing to be good that he does, or another 
 thing of the same kind. It is thy duty then to pardon him. 
 But if thou dost not think such things to be good or evil, 
 thou wilt more readily be well disposed to him who is in 
 error. 
 
 27. Think not so much of what thou hast not as of what 
 thou hast : but of the things which thou hast select the best, 
 and then reflect how eagerly they would have been sought, if 
 thou hadst them not. At the same time, however, take care 
 that thou dost not through being so pleased with them ac- 
 custom thyself to overvalue them, so as to be disturbed if 
 ever thou shouldst not have them. 
 
 28. Retire into thyself. The rational principlb which rules 
 has this nature, that it is content with itself when it does 
 what is just, and so secures tranquillity. 
 
 29. Wipe out the imagination. Stop the pulling of the 
 strings. Confine thyself to the present. Understand well 
 what happens either to thee or to another. Divide and dis- 
 tribute every object into the casual [formal] and the material. 
 
250 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 Think of thy last hour. Let the wrong which is done by a 
 man stay there where the wrong was done (viii. 29). 
 
 30. Direct thy attention to what is said. Let thy under- 
 standing enter into the things that are doing and the 
 things which do them (vii. 4). 
 
 31. Adorn thyself with simplicity and modesty and with 
 indifference towards the things which lie between virtue and 
 vice. Love mankind. Follow God. The poet says that Law 
 rules all. And it is enough to remember that law rules all.^ 
 
 32. About death: whether it is a dispersion, or a reso- 
 lution into atoms, or annihilation, it is either extinction or 
 change. 
 
 33. About pain: the pain which is intolerable carries us 
 off; but that which lasts a long time is tolerable; and the 
 mind maintains its own tranquillity by retiring into itself, 
 and the ruling faculty is not made worse. But the parts 
 which are harmed by pain, let them, if they can, give their 
 opinion about it. 
 
 34. About fame: look at the minds [of those who seek 
 fame], observe what they are, and what kind of things they 
 avoid, and what kind of things they pursue. A.nd consider 
 that as the heaps of sand piled on one another hide the 
 former sands, so in life the events which go before are soon 
 covered by those which come after. 
 
 35. From Plato: the man who lias an elevated mind an{ 
 takes a view of all time and of all substance, dost thou sup< 
 pose it possible for him to think that human life is anything 
 great? It is not possible, he said. Such a man then will 
 think that death also is no evil. Certainly not. 
 
 36. From Antisthenes: It is royal to do good and to be 
 abused. 
 
 37. It is a base thing for the countenance to be obedient 
 and to regulate and compose itself as the mind comm.ands, 
 and for the mind not to be regulated and composed by itself. 
 
 38. It is not right to vex ourselves at things. 
 For they care nought about it. 
 
 39. To the immortal gods and us give joy. 
 
 40. Life must be reaped like the ripe ears of corns; 
 One man is born; another dies. 
 
 ^The end of this section is unintelligible. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 251 
 
 41. If gods care not for me and for my children, 
 
 There is a reason for it. 
 (42. For the good is with me, and the just. 
 43- No joining others in their wailing, no violent emotion. 
 
 44. From Plato : But I would make this man a sufficient 
 answer, which is this: Thou sayest not well, if thou think- 
 est that a man who is good for anything at all ought to com- 
 pute the hazard of life or death, and should not rather look 
 to this only in all that he does, whether he is doing what is 
 just or unjust, and the works of a good or a bad man. 
 
 45. For thus it is, men of Athens, in truth; wherever a 
 man has placed himself thinking it the best place for him, 
 or has been placed by a commander, there in my opinion he 
 ought to stay and to abide the hazard, taking nothing into 
 the reckoning, either death or anything else, before the base- 
 ness [of deserting his post]. 
 
 46. But, m.y good friend, reflect whether that which is 
 noble and good is not som.ething different from saving and 
 being saved; for as to a man living such or such a time, at 
 least one who is really a man, consider if this is not a thing 
 to be dismissed from the thoughts: and there must be no 
 love of life : but as to these matters a man must intrust them 
 to the deity and believe what the women say, that no man can 
 escape his destiny, the next inquiry being how he may best 
 live the time that he has to live. 
 
 47. Look round at the courses of the stars, as if thou wert 
 going along with them; and constantly consider the changes 
 of the elements into one another; for such thoughts purge 
 away the filth of the terrene life. 
 
 48. This is a fine saying of Plato: That he who is dis- 
 coursing about men should look also at earthly things as if 
 he viewed them from some higher place; should look at 
 them in their assemblies, armies, agricultural labours, mar- 
 riages, treaties, births, deaths, noise of the courts of justice, 
 desert places, various nations of barbarians, feasts, lamen- 
 tations, markets, a mixture of all things and an orderly com- 
 bination of contraries. 
 
 49. Consider the past; such great changes of political su- 
 premacies. Thou mayest foresee also the things which will be. 
 'For they will certainly be of like form, and it is not possible 
 
252 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 that they should deviate from the order of the things which 
 take place now: accordingly to have contemplated human 
 life for forty years is the same as to have contemplated it 
 for ten thousand years. For what m.ore wilt thou see? 
 
 50. That which has grown from the earth to the earth. 
 But that which has sprung from heavenly seed, 
 Back to the heavenly realms returns. 
 
 This is either a dissolution of the mutual involution of the 
 atoms, or a similar dispersion of the unsentient elements. 
 
 51. With food and drinks and cunning magic arts 
 Turning the channel's course to 'scape from death. 
 
 The breeze which heaven has sent 
 We must endure, and toil without comxplaining. 
 
 52. Another miay be more expert in casting his opponent; 
 but he is not more social, nor more modest, nor better dis- 
 ciplined to m.eet all that happens, nor more considerate with 
 respect to the faults of his neighbours. 
 
 53. Where any work can be done conformably to the 
 reason which is common to gods and men, there we have 
 nothing to fear ; for where we are able to get profit by means 
 of the activity which is successful and proceeds according to 
 our constitution, there no harm is to be suspected. 
 
 54. Everywhere and at all times it is in thy power piously 
 to acquiesce in thy present condition, and to behave justly to 
 those who are about thee, and to exert thy skill upon thy 
 present thoughts, that nothing shall steal into them without 
 being well examined. 
 
 55. Do not look around thee to discover other men's ruling 
 principles, but look straight to this, to what nature leads thee, 
 both the universal nature through the things which happen to 
 thee, and thy own nature through the acts which must be 
 done by thee. But every being ought to do that which is 
 according to its constitution; and all other things have been 
 constituted for the sake of rational beings, just as among ir- 
 rational things the inferior for the sake of the superior, but 
 the rational for the sake of one another. 
 
 The prime principle then in man's constitution is the social. 
 And the second is not to yield to the persuasions of the body, 
 for it is the peculiar office of the rational ami intelligent 
 motion to circumscribe itself, and never to be overpowered 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 253 
 
 either by the motion of the senses or of the appetites, for 
 both are animal ; but the intelligent motion claims superiority 
 and does not permit itself to be overpowered by the others. 
 And with good reason, for it is formed by nature to use all 
 of them. The third thing in the rational constitution is 
 freedom from error and from deception. Let then the ruling 
 principle holding fast to these things go straight on, and it 
 has what is its own. 
 
 56. Consider thyself to be dead^ and to have completed thy 
 life up to the present time ; and live according to nature the 
 remainder which is allowed thee. 
 
 57. Love that only which happens to thee and is spun with 
 the thread of thy destiny. For what is more suitable? 
 
 58. In everything which happens keep before thy eyes 
 those to whom the same things happened, and how they were 
 vexed, and treated them as strange things, and found fault 
 with them ; and now where are they ? Nowhere. Why then 
 dost thou too choose to act in the same way? and why dost 
 thou not leave these agitations which are foreign to nature, 
 to those who cause them and those who are m.oved by them? 
 And why art thou not altogether intent upon the right 
 way of making use of the things which happen to thee? 
 for then thou wilt use them Vv^ell, and they will be a m.ate- 
 rial for thee [to w^ork on]. Only attend to thyself, and 
 resolve to be a good man in every act which thou doest; 
 and remember. . . 
 
 59. Look within. Within is the fountain of good, and it 
 will ever bubble up, if thou wilt ever dig. 
 
 60. The body ought to be compact, and to show no irreg- 
 ularity either 'in motion or attitude. For what the mind 
 shows in the face by maintaining in it the expression of in- 
 telligence and propriety, that ought to be required also in the 
 whole body. But all these things should be observed with- 
 out affectation. 
 
 61. The art of life is more like the wrestler's art than the 
 dancer's, in respect of this, that it should stand ready and 
 firm to meet onsets which are sudden and unexpected. 
 
 62. Constantly observe who those are whose approbation 
 thou wishest to have, and what ruling principles they possess. 
 For then thou wilt neither blame those who offend invol- 
 
254 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 untarily, nor wilt thou want their approbation, if thou lookest 
 to the sources of their opinions and appetites. 
 
 63. Every soul, the philosopher says, is involuntarily de- 
 prived of truth ; consequently in the same way it is deprived 
 of justice and temperance and benevolence and everything 
 of the kind. It is most necessary to bear this constantly in 
 mind, for thus thou wilt be more gentle towards all. 
 
 64. In every pain let this thought be present, that there 
 is no dishonour in it, nor does it make the governing intelli- 
 gence worse, for it does not damage the intelligence either 
 so far as the intelligence is rational or so far as it is social. 
 Indeed in the case of most pains let this remark of Epicurus 
 aid thee, that pain is neither intolerable nor everlasting, if 
 thou bearest in mind that it has its limits, and if thou 
 addest nothing to it in imagination: and remember this too, 
 that we do not perceive that many things which are disagree- 
 able to us are the same as pain, such as excessive drowsiness, 
 and the being scorched by heat, and the having no appetite. 
 When then thou art discontented about any of these things, 
 say to thyself, that thou art yielding to pain. 
 
 65. Take care not to feel towards the inhuman, as they 
 feel towards men. 
 
 66. How do we know if Telauges was not superior in 
 character to Socrates? for it is not enough that Socrates 
 died a more noble death, and disputed more skilfully with 
 the sophists, and passed the night in the cold with more 
 endurance, and that when he was bid to arrest Leon of Sala- 
 mis, he considered it more noble to refuse, and that he 
 walked in a swaggering way in the streets — though as to 
 this fact one may have great doubts if it was true. But we 
 ought to inquire, what kind of a soul it was that Socrates 
 possessed, and if he was able to be content with being just 
 towards men and pious towards the gods, neither idly vexed 
 on account of men's villainy, nor yet making himself a slave 
 to any man's ignorance, nor receiving as strange anything 
 that fell to his share out of the universal, nor enduring it as 
 intolerable nor allowing his understanding to sympathise 
 with the affects of the miserable flesh. 
 
 6y. Nature has not so mingled [the intelligence] with the 
 composition of the body, as not to have allowed thee the 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 255 
 
 power of circumscribing thyself and of bringing under sub- 
 jection to thyself ail that is thy own; for it is very possible 
 to be a divine man and to be recognized as such by no one. 
 Always bear this in mind; and another thing too, that very 
 little indeed is necessary for living a happy life. And be- 
 cause thou hast despaired of becoming a dialectician and 
 skilled in the knowledge of nature, do not for this reason 
 renounce the hope of being both free and modest and social 
 and obedient to God. 
 
 68. It is in thy power to live free from all compulsion in 
 the greatest tranquillity of mind, even if all the world cry 
 out against thee as much as they choose, and even if wild 
 beasts tear in pieces the members of this kneaded miatter 
 which has grown around thee. For what hinders the mind 
 in the midst of all this from maintaining itself in tranquillity, 
 and in a just judgment of all surrounding things, and in a 
 ready use of the objects which are presented to it, so that 
 the judgment may say to the thing which falls under its 
 observation: This thou art in substance [reality], though 
 in men's opinion thou mayest appear to be of a different 
 kind ; and the use shall say to that which falls under the hand : 
 Thou art the thing that I was seeking ; for to me that which 
 presents itself is always a material for virtue, both rational 
 and political, and, in a word, for the exercise of art, v/hich 
 belongs to man or God. For everything v/hich happens has 
 a relationship either to God or m.an, and is neither new 
 nor difficult to handle, but usual and apt matter to work on, 
 
 69. The perfection of moral character consists in this, in 
 passing every day as the last, and in being neither violently 
 excited, nor torpid, nor playing the hypocrite. 
 
 70. The gods who are immortal are not vexed because 
 during so long a time they must tolerate continually men 
 such as they are and so many of them bad ; and besides this, 
 they also take care of them in all ways. But thou, who art 
 destined to end so soon, art thou wearied of enduring the 
 bad, and this too when thou art one of them? 
 
 71. It is a ridiculous thing for a man not to fly from his 
 own badness, which is indeed possible, but to fly from other 
 men's badness, which is impossible. 
 
 72. Whatever the rational and political [social] faculty 
 
256 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUEELIUS 
 
 finds to be neither intelligent nor social, it properly judges 
 to be inferior to itself. 
 
 "j^i. When thou hast done a good act and another has 
 received it, why dost thou still look for a third thing be- 
 sides these, as fools do, either to have the reputation of 
 having done a good act or to obtain a return ? 
 
 74. No man is tired of receiving what is useful. But it 
 is useful to act according to nature. Do not then be tired 
 of receiving what is useful by doing it to others. 
 
 75. The nature of the All moved to make the universe. 
 But nov7 either everything that takes place comes by 
 way of consequence or [continuity] ; or even the chief 
 things towards which the ruling power of the universe 
 directs its own movement are governed by no rational 
 principle. If this is remxembered it will make thee more 
 tranquil in many things (vi. 44; ix. 28). 
 
 VIII 
 
 HIS reflection also tends to the removal of the desire 
 
 of empty fame, that it is no longer in thy power to 
 have lived the whole of thy life, or at least thy life 
 from thy youth upwards, like a philosopher ; but both to many 
 others and to thyself it is plain that thou art far from philos- 
 ophy. Thou hast fallen into disorder then, so that it is no 
 longer easy for thee to get the reputation of a philosopher ; 
 and thy plan of life also opposes it. If then thou hast truly 
 seen where the matter lies, throw away the thought. How 
 thou shalt seem [to others], and be content if thou shalt live 
 the rest of thy life in such wise as thy nature wills. Observe 
 then what it wills, and let nothing else distract thee; for 
 thou hast had experience of many wanderings without hav- 
 ing found happiness anywhere, not in syllogisms, nor in 
 wealth, nor in reputation, nor in enjoyment, nor anywhere. 
 Where is it then? In doing what man's nature requires. 
 How then shall a man do this? If he has principles from 
 which come his affects and his acts. What principles? 
 Those which relate to good and bad: the belief that there 
 is nothing good for man, which does not make him just, 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 257 
 
 temperate, manly, free ; and that there is nothing bad, which 
 does not do the contrary to what has been mentioned. 
 
 2. On the occasion of every act ask thyself, How is this 
 with respect to me? Shall I repent of it? A little time 
 and I am dead, and all is gonCo What more do I seek, if 
 what I am doing now is the work of an intelligent living 
 being, and a social being, and one who is under the same law 
 with God? 
 
 3. Alexander and Cains and Pompeius, what are they in 
 comparison with Diogenes and Heraclitus and Socrates? 
 For they were acquainted with things, and their causes 
 [forms], and their matter, and the ruling principles of these 
 men were the same [or conformable to their pursuits]. But 
 as to the others, how many things had they to care for, and 
 to how many things were they slaves. 
 
 4. [Consider] that men will do the same things never- 
 theless, even though thou shouldst burst. 
 
 5. This is the chief thing: Be not perturbed, for all things 
 are according to the nature of the universal ; and in a little 
 time thou wilt be nobody and nowhere, like Hadrianus and 
 Augustus. In the next place having fixed thy eyes steadily 
 on thy business look at it, and at the same time remembering 
 that it is thy duty to be a good man, and what man's nature 
 demands, do that without turning aside; and speak as it 
 seems to thee most just, only let it be with a good disposi- 
 tion and with modesty and without hypocrisy. 
 
 6. The nature of the universal has this work to do, to 
 remove to that place the things which are in this, to change 
 them, to take them away hence, and to carry them there. All 
 things are change, yet we need not fear anything new. All 
 things are familiar [to us] ; but the distribution of them still 
 remains the same. 
 
 7. Every nature is contented with itself when it goes on 
 its way well; and a rational nature goes on its way well, 
 when in its thoughts it assents to nothing false or uncertain, 
 and when it directs its movements to social acts only, and 
 when it confines its desires and aversions to the things which 
 are in its power, and when it is satisfied with everything 
 that is assigned to it by the common nature. For of this 
 common nature every particular nature is a part, as the 
 
 9 HC— Vol. Z 
 
258 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 nature of the leaf is a part of the nature of the plant; ex- 
 cept that in the plant the nature of the leaf is part of a 
 nature which has not perception or reason, and is subject 
 to be impeded; but the nature of man is part of a nature 
 which is not subject to impediments, and is intelligent and 
 just, since it gives to everything in equal portions and accord- 
 ing to its worth, times, substance, cause [form], activity, and 
 incident. But examine, not to discover that any one thing 
 compared with any other single thing is equal in all respects, 
 but by taking all the parts together of one thing and com- 
 paring them v/ith all the parts together of another. 
 
 8. Thou hast not leisure [or abihty] to read. But thou 
 hast leisure [or ability] to check arrogance : thou hast leisure 
 to be superior to pleasure and pain; thou hast leisure to 
 be superior to love of fame, and not to be vexed at stupid 
 and ungrateful people, nay even to care for them. 
 
 9. Let no man any longer hear thee finding fault with the 
 court life or with thy own (v. 16). 
 
 10. Repentance is a kind of self-reproof for having neg- 
 lected something useful; but that which is good must be 
 something useful, and the perfect good man should look after 
 it. But no such man would ever repent of having any sen- 
 sual pleasure. Pleasure then is neither good nor useful. 
 
 11. This thing, what is it in itself, in its own constitu- 
 tion? What is its substance and material? And what its 
 causal nature [or form] ? And what is it doing in the 
 .world? And how long does it subsist? 
 
 12. When thou risest from sleep with reluctance, remem- 
 ber that it is according to thy constitution and according to 
 human nature to perform social acts, but sleeping is common 
 also to irrational animals. But that which is according to 
 each individual's nature is also more peculiarly its own, and 
 more suitable to its nature, and indeed, also more agreeable 
 (v. 1). 
 
 13. Constantly and, if it be possible, on the occasion of 
 every impression on the soul, apply to it the principles of 
 Physic, of Ethic, and of Dialectic. 
 
 14. Whatever man thou meetest with, immediately say to 
 thyself: What opinions has this man about good and bad? 
 For if with respect to pleasure and pain and the causes of 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 259 
 
 each', and with respect to fame and ignominy, death and life 
 he has such and such opinions, it will seem nothing wonder- 
 ful or strange to me, if he does such and such things; and 
 I shall bear in mind that he is compelled to do so. 
 
 15. Remember that as it is a shame to be surprised if the 
 fig-tree produces figs, so it is to be surprised if the world 
 produces such and such things of which it is productive; 
 and for the physician and the helmsman it is a shame to be 
 surprised, if a man has a fever, or if the wind is unfa- 
 vourable. 
 
 16. Remicmber that to change thy opinion and to follow 
 him who corrects thy error is as consistent with freedom 
 as it is to persist in thy error. For it is thy own, the activity 
 which is exerted according to thy ov/n movement and judg- 
 ment, and indeed according to thy own understanding too. 
 
 17. If a thing is in thy own power, why dost thou do it? 
 but if it is in the power of another, whom dost thou blame? 
 the atoms [chance] or the gods? Both are foolish. Thorn 
 must blame nobody. For if thou canst, correct [that which 
 is the cause] ; but if thou canst not do this, correct at least 
 the thing itself; but if thou canst not do even this, of what 
 use is it to thee to find fault? for nothing should be done 
 without a purpose. 
 
 18. That which has died falls not out of the universe. If 
 it stays here, it also changes here, and is dissolved into its 
 proper parts, which are elements of the universe and of thy- 
 self. And these too change, and they murmur not. 
 
 19. Everything exists for some end, a horse, a vine. Why 
 dost thou wonder? Even the sun will say, I am for some 
 purpose, and the rest of the gods will say the same. For 
 what purpose then art thou? to enjoy pleasure? See if 
 common sense allows this. 
 
 20. Nature has had regard in everything no less to the 
 end than to the beginning and the continuance, just like the 
 man who throws up a ball. What good is it then for the 
 ball to be thrown up, or harm for it to come down, or even 
 to have fallen? and what good is it to the bubble while 
 it holds together, or v/nat harm when it is burst ? The same 
 may be said of a light also. 
 
 21. Turn it [the body] inside out, and see what kind of 
 
260 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 thing it is ; and when it has grown old, what kind of thing 
 it becomes, and when it is diseased. 
 
 Short lived are both the praiser and the praised, and the 
 rememberer and the remembered: and all this in a nook of 
 this part of the world; and not even here do all agree, no, 
 not any one with himself : and the whole earth too is a point. 
 
 22. Attend to the matter which is before thee, whether 
 it is an opinion or an act or a word. 
 
 Thou sufferest this justly: for thou choosest rather to 
 become good to-morrow than to be good to-day. 
 
 23. Am I doing anything? I do it with reference to the 
 good of mankind. Does anything happen to me ? I receive 
 it and refer it to the gods, and the source of all things, 
 from which all that happens is derived. 
 
 24. Such as bathing appears to thee — oil, sweat, dirt, filthy 
 water, all things disgusting — so is every part of life and 
 everything. 
 
 25. Lucilla saw Verus die, and then Lucilla died. Secunda 
 saw Maximus die, and then Secunda died. Epitynchanus saw 
 Diotimus die, and then Epitynchanus died. Antoninus saw 
 Faustina die, and then Antoninus died. Such is everything. 
 Celer saw Hadrianus die, and then Celer died. And those 
 sharp-witted men, either seers or men inflated with pride, 
 where are they? for instance, the sharp-witted men, Charax 
 and Demetrius the Platonist and Eudsemon, and any one else 
 like them. All ephemeral, dead long ago. Some indeed have 
 not been remembered even for a short time, and others have 
 become the heroes of fables, and again others have disap- 
 peared even from fables. Remember this, then, that this little 
 compound, thyself, must either be dissolved, or thy poor 
 breath must be extinguished, or be removed and placed 
 elsewhere. 
 
 26. It is satisfaction to a man to do the proper works of 
 a man. Now it is a proper work of a man to be benevolent 
 to his own kind, to despise the movements of the senses, to 
 form a just judgment of plausible appearances, and to take 
 a survey of the nature of the universe and of the things 
 which happen in it. 
 
 27. There are three relations [between thee and other 
 things]: the one to the body which surrounds thee; the 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 261 
 
 second to the divine cause from which all things come to all ; 
 and the third to those who live with thee, 
 
 28. Pain is either an evil to the body — then let the body 
 say what it thinks of it— or to the soul; but it is in the 
 power of the soul to maintain its own serenity and tran- 
 quillity, and not to think that pain is an evil. For every 
 judgment and movement and desire and aversion is within, 
 and no evil ascends so high. 
 
 29. Wipe out thy imaginations by often saying to thyself: 
 now it is in my power to let no badness be in this soul, nor 
 desire, nor any perturbation at all; but looking at all things 
 I see what is their nature, and I use each according to its 
 value. — Remember this power which thou hast from nature. 
 
 30. Speak both in the senate and to every man, whoever 
 he may be, appropriately, not with any affectation: use 
 plain discourse. 
 
 31. Augustus' court, wife, daughter, descendants, an- 
 cestors, sister, Agrippa, kinsmen, intimates, friends,, Areius, 
 Mcecenas, physicians and sacrificing priests — the whole court 
 is dead. Then turn to the rest, not considering the death of 
 a single man, [but of a whole race], as of the Pompeii; 
 and that which is inscribed on the tombs—the last of his 
 race. Then consider what trouble those before them have 
 had that they might leave a successor; and then, that of 
 necessity some one must be the last. Again here consider 
 the deatii of a whole race. 
 
 32. It is thy duty to order thy life well in every single 
 act; and if every act does its duty, as far as is possible, be 
 content; and no one is able to hinder thee so that each act 
 shall not do its duty. — But something external will stand in 
 the way. — Nothing will stand in the way of thy acting 
 justly and soberly and considerately, but perhaps some other 
 active power will be hindered. Well, but by acquiescing in 
 the hindrance and by being content to transfer thy efforts 
 to that which is allowed, another opportunity of action is 
 immediately put before thee in place of that which was 
 hindered, and one which will adapt itself to this ordering 
 of which we are speaking. 
 
 33. Receive [wealth or prosperity] without arrogance | 
 and be read^ to let it go. 
 
262 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 34. If thou didst ever see a hand cut off, or a foot, or a 
 head, lying anyv/here apart from the rest of the body, such 
 does a man make himself, as far as he can, who is not con- 
 tent with what happens, and separates himself from others, 
 or does anything unsocial. Suppose that thou hast detached 
 thyself from the natural unit}^ — for thou wast made by 
 nature a part, but now thou hast cut thyself off — ^yet here 
 there is this beautiful provision, that it is in thy power again 
 to unite thyself. God has allovv^ed this to no other part, after 
 it has been separated and cut asunder, to come together 
 again. But consider the kindness by which he has dis- 
 tinguished man, for he has put it in his power not to be 
 separated at all from the universal; and when he has been 
 separated, he has allowed him to return and to be united 
 and to resume his place as a part. 
 
 35. As the nature of the universal has given to every 
 rational being all the other powers that it has, so we have 
 received from it this pov/er also. For as the universal 
 nature converts and fixes in its predestined place everything 
 which stands in the way and opposes it, and makes such 
 things a part of itself, so also the rational animal is able to 
 make every hindrance its own material, and to use it for 
 such purposes as it may have designed. 
 
 36. Do not disturb thyself by thinking of the whole of thy 
 life. Let not thy thoughts at once embrace all the various 
 troubles which thou mayest expect to befall thee: but on 
 every occasion ask thyself. What is there in this which is 
 intolerable and past bearing? for thou wilt be ashamed to 
 confess. In the next place remember that neither the future 
 nor the past pains thee, but only the present. But this is 
 reduced to a very little, if thou only circumscribest it, and 
 chidest thy m.ind, if it is unable to hold out against even this. 
 
 37. Does Panthea or Pergamus now sit by the tomb o£ 
 Verus? Does Chaurias or Diotimus sit by the tomb of 
 Hadrianus? That would be ridiculous. Well, suppose they 
 did sit there, would the dead be conscious of it? and if the 
 dead were conscious, would they be pleased? and if they 
 were pleased, would that make them immortal? Was it 
 not in the order of destiny that these persons too should first 
 become old women and old men and then die? What then 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 263 
 
 would those do after these were dead ? All this is foul smell 
 and blood in a bag. 
 
 38. If thou canst see sharp, look and judge v/isely, says 
 the philosopher. 
 
 39. In the constitution of the rational animal I see no 
 virtue which is opposed to justice; but I see a virtue which 
 is opposed to love of pleasure, and that is temperance. 
 
 40. If thou takest away thy opinion about that which ap- 
 pears to give thee pain, thou thyself standest in perfect 
 security. Who is this self? The reason. But I am not 
 reason. Be it so. Let then the reason itself not trouble 
 itself. But if any other part of thee suffers, let it have its 
 own opinion about itself (vii. 16). 
 
 41. Hindrance to the perceptions of sense is an evil to 
 the animal nature. Hindrance to the movements [desires] 
 is equally an evil to the animal nature. And something else 
 also is equally an impediment and evil to the constitution 
 of plants. So then that which is a hindrance to the intelli- 
 gence is an evil to the intelligent nature. Apply all these 
 things then to thyself. Does pain or sensuous pleasure affect 
 thee? The senses will look to that. Has any obstacle 
 opposed thee in thy efforts towards an object? if indeed thou 
 wast making this effort absolutely [unconditionally, or with- 
 out any reservation], certainly this obstacle is an evil to 
 thee considered as a rational animal. But if thou takest 
 [into consideration] the usual course of things, thou hast 
 not yet been injured nor even impeded. The things however 
 which are proper to the understanding no other man is 
 used to impede, for neither fire, nor iron, nor tyrant, nor 
 abuse, touches it in any way. When it has been made a 
 sphere, it continues a sphere (xi. 12). 
 
 42. It is not fit that I should give myself pain, for I have 
 never intentionally given pain even to another. 
 
 43. Different things delight different people. But it is 
 my delight to keep the ruling faculty sound without turning 
 away either from any man or from any of the things which 
 happen to m.en, but looking at and receiving -all with wel- 
 come eyes and using everything according to its value. 
 
 44. See that you secure this present time to thyself; for 
 those who rather pursue posthumous fame do not consider that 
 
264 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 the men of after time will be exactly such as these whom 
 they cannot bear now; and both are mortal. And what is it 
 in any way to thee if these men of after time utter this or 
 that sound, or have this or that opinion about thee ? 
 
 45. Take me and cast me where thou wilt; for there I 
 shall keep my divine part tranquil, that is, content, if it can 
 feel and act conformably to its proper constitution. Is this 
 [change of place] sufficient reason v^^hy my soul should be 
 unhappy and worse than it was, depressed, expanded, shrink- 
 ing, affrighted? and what wilt thou find which is sufficient 
 reason for this? 
 
 46. Nothing can happen to any man \\^hich is not human 
 accident, nor to an ox, which is not according to the nature 
 of an ox, nor to a vine which is not according to the nature 
 of a vine, nor to a stone which is not proper to a stone. If 
 then there happens to each thing both what is usual and 
 natural, why shouldst thou complain? For the common 
 nature brings nothing which m^ay not be borne by thee. 
 
 47. If thou art pained by any external thing, it is not this 
 that disturbs thee, but thy own judgment about it. And it 
 is in thy power to wipe out this judgment now. But if 
 anything in thy own disposition gives thee pain, who hinders 
 thee from correcting thy opinion? And even if thou art 
 pained because thou art not doing some particular thing 
 which seems to thee to be right, why dost thou not rather 
 act than complain? But some insuperable obstacle is in 
 tbe way? Do not be grieved then, for the cause of its 
 not being done depends not on thee. But it is not [worth 
 while to live, if this cannot be done. Take thy departure 
 then from life contentedly, just as he dies who is in full 
 activity, and well pleased too with the things which are 
 obstacles. 
 
 48. Remember that the ruling faculty is invincible, when 
 self-collected it is satisfied with itself, if it does nothing 
 which it does not choose to do, even if it resist from mere 
 obstinacy. What then will it be when it forms a judgment 
 about anything aided by reason and deliberately? Therefore 
 the mind which is free from passions is a citadel, for man 
 has nothing more secure to which he can fly for refuge and 
 for the future be inexpugnable. He then who has not seen 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 265 
 
 this is an ignorant man; but he who has seen it and does 
 not fly to this refuge is unhappy. 
 
 49. Say nothing more to thyself than what the first ap- 
 pearances report. Suppose that it has been reported to 
 thee that a certain person speaks ill of thee. This has been 
 reported; but that thou hast been injured, that has not been 
 reported. I see that my child is sick. I do see; but that he 
 is in danger, I do not see. Thus then always abide by the 
 first appearances, and add nothing thyself from within, and 
 then nothing happens to thee. Or rather add something, 
 like a man who knows everything that happens in the world. 
 
 50. A cucumber is bitter — Throw it away. — There are 
 briars in the road — Turn aside from them. — This is enough. 
 Do not add. And why were such things made in the world? 
 For thou wilt be ridiculed by a man who is acquainted with 
 nature, as thou wouldst be ridiculed by a carpenter and shoe- 
 maker if thou didst find fault because thou seest in their 
 workshop shavings and cuttings from the things .which they 
 make. And yet they have places into which they can throw 
 these shavings and cuttings, and the universal nature has no 
 external space; but the wondrous part of her art is that 
 though she has circumscribed herself, everything within her 
 which appears to decay and to grow old and to be useless 
 she changes into herself, and again makes other new things 
 from these very same, so that she requires neither substance 
 from without nor wants a place into which she may cast 
 that which decays. She is content then with her own space, 
 and her own matter, and her own art. 
 
 51. Neither in thy actions be sluggish, nor in thy con- 
 versation without method, nor [wandering in thy thoughts, 
 nor let there be in thy soul inward contention nor external 
 effusion, nor in life be so busy as to have no leisure. 
 
 Svippose that men kill thee, cut thee in pieces, curse 
 thee. What then can these things do to prevent thy mind 
 from remaining pure, wise, sober, just? For instance, if 
 a man should stand by a limpid pure spring, and curse it, 
 the spring never ceases sending up potable water; and if he 
 should cast clay into it or filth, it will speedily disperse them 
 and wash them out, and will not be at all polluted. How 
 then shalt thou possess a perpetual fountain [and not a mere 
 
266 THE MEDITATIONS OF MAECUS AURELIUS 
 
 well] ? By forming thyself hourly to freedom conjoined with 
 contentment, simplicity and modesty. 
 
 52. He who does not know what the world is, does not 
 know where he is. And he who does not know for what 
 purpose the world exists, does not know who he is, nor what 
 the world is. But he who has failed in any one of these 
 things could not even say for what purpose he exists him- 
 self. What then dost thou think of him who [avoids or] 
 seeks the praise of those who applaud, of men who know 
 not either where they are or who they are ? 
 
 53. Dost thou wish to be praised by a man who curses 
 himself thrice every hour? Wouldst thou v^^ish to please 
 a man who does not please himself? Does a man please 
 himself who repents of nearly everything that he does ? 
 
 54. No longer let thy breathing only act in concert with 
 the air which surrounds thee, but let thy intelligence also 
 now be in harmony with the intelligence which embraces 
 all things. For the intelligent power is no less diffused in 
 all parts and pervades all things for him who is willing to 
 draw it to him than the aerial power for him who is able to 
 respire it. 
 
 55. Generally, wickedness does not harm at all to the uni- 
 verse; and particularly, the wickedness [of one man] does 
 no harm to another. It is only harmful to him who has it 
 in his power to be released from it, as soon as he shall choose. 
 
 56. To my own free will the free will of my neighbour is 
 just as indifferent as his poor breath and flesh. For though 
 we are made especially for the sake of one another, still the 
 ruling power of each of us has its own office, for otherwise 
 my neighbour's wickedness would be my harm, which God has 
 not willed in order that my unhappiness may not depend 
 on another. 
 
 57. The sun appears to be poured down, and in all direc- 
 tions indeed it is diffused, yet it is not effused. For this 
 diffusion is extension: Accordingly its rays are called Exten- 
 sions [^xrTve?] because they are extended [^dnd rod ixTe[v£<7dai,'j, 
 But one may judge what kind of a thing a ray is, if he looks 
 at the sun's light passing through a narrow opening into 
 a darkened room, for it is extended in a right line, and, 
 as it were, is divided when it meets with any solid body 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 267 
 
 which stands in the way and intercepts the air beyond; but 
 there the hght remains fixed and does not glide or fail off. 
 Such then ought to be the outpouring and diffusion of the 
 understanding, and it should in no way be an effusion, but 
 an extension, and it should make no violent or impetuous 
 collision with the obstacles which are in its way; nor yet 
 fall down, but be fixed and enlighten that which receives 
 it. For a body will deprive itself of the illumination, if 
 it does not admit it. 
 
 58. He who fears death either fears the loss of sensation 
 or a different kind of sensation. But if thou shalt have no 
 sensation, neither wilt thou feel any harm ; and if thou shalt 
 acquire another kind of sensation, thou wilt be a different 
 kind of living being, and thou wilt not cease to live. 
 
 59. Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them 
 then or bear with them. 
 
 60. In one way an arrow moves, in another way the mind,. 
 The mind, indeed, both when it exercises caution and when 
 it is employed about inquiry, moves straight ©nward not the 
 less, and to its object. 
 
 61. Enter into every man's ruling faculty; and also let 
 every other man enter into thine. 
 
 IX 
 
 'E who acts unjustly acts impiously. For since the 
 universal nature has made rational animals for the 
 sake of one another to help one another according to 
 their deserts, but in no way to injure one another, he who 
 transgresses her will, is clearly guilty of impiety towards the 
 highest divinity. And he too who lies is guilty of impiety to 
 the same divinity; for the universal nature is the nature of 
 things that are; and things that are have a relation to all 
 things that come into existence. And further, his universal 
 nature is named truth, and is the prime cause of all things 
 that are true. He then who lies intentionally is guilty of 
 impiety inasmuch as he acts unjustly by deceiving; and he 
 also who lies unintentionally, inasmuch as he is at variance 
 with the universal nature, and inasmuch as he disturbs the 
 
268 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 order by fighting against the nature of the world ; for he fights 
 against it, who is moved of himself to that which is contrary 
 to truth, for he had received powers from nature through the 
 neglect of which he is not able now to distinguish falsehood 
 from truth. And indeed he who pursues pleasure as good, 
 and avoids pain as evil, is guilty of impiety. For of neces- 
 sity such a man must often find fault with the universal nature, 
 alleging that it assigns things to the bad and the good con- 
 trary to their deserts, because frequently the bad are in the 
 enjoyment of pleasure and possess the things which procure 
 pleasure, but the good have pain for their share and the 
 things which cause pain. And further, he who is afraid of 
 pain will sometimes also be afraid of some of the things 
 which will happen in the v/orld, and even this is impiety. 
 And he who pursues pleasure will not abstain from injustice, 
 and this is plainly impiety. Now, with respect to the things 
 towards which the universal nature is equally affected — for 
 it would not have made both, unless it was equally affected 
 towards both — towards these they who wish to follow nature 
 should be of the same mind with it, and equally affected. 
 With respect to pain, then, and pleasure, or death and life, 
 or honour and dishonour, which the universal nature employs 
 equally, whoever is not equally affected is manifestly acting 
 impiously. And I say that the universal nature employs them 
 equally, instead of saying that they happen alike to those 
 who are produced in continuous series and to those who 
 come after them by virtue of a certain original movement of 
 Providence, according to which it moved from a certain be- 
 ginning to this ordering of things, having conceived certain 
 principles of the things which were to be, and having deter- 
 mined powers productive of beings and of changes and of 
 •such like successions (vii. 75). 
 
 2. It would be a man's happiest lot to depart from man- 
 kind without having had any taste of lying and hypocrisy and 
 luxury and pride. However to breathe out one's life when 
 a man has had enough of these things is the next best voy- 
 age, as the saying is. Hast thou determined to abide with 
 vice, and has not experience yet induced thee to fly from this 
 pestilence? For the destruction of the understanding is a 
 pestilence, much more indeed than any such corruption and 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 269 
 
 change of this atmosphere which surrounds us. For this 
 corruption is a pestilence of animals so far as they are 
 animals ; but the other is a pestilence of men so far as they 
 are men. 
 
 3. Do not despise death, but be well content with it, since 
 this too is one of those things which nature wills. For such 
 as it is to be young and to grow old, and to increase and to 
 reach maturity, and to have teeth and beard and gray hairs, 
 and to beget, and to be pregnant, and to bring forth, and all 
 the other natural operations which the seasons of thy life 
 bring, such also is dissolution. This, then, is consistent with 
 the character of a reflecting man, to be neither careless nor 
 impatient nor contemptuous with respect to death, but to 
 wait for it as one of the operations of nature. As thou now 
 waitest for the time when the child shall come out of thy 
 wife's womb, so be ready for the time when thy soul shall fall 
 out of this envelope. But if thou requirest also a vulgar kind 
 of comfort which shall reach thy heart, thou wilt be made best 
 reconciled to death by observing the objects from which thou 
 art going to be removed, and the morals of those with whom 
 thy soul will no longer be mingled. For it is no way right 
 to be offended with men, but it is thy duty to care for them 
 and to bear with them gently; and yet to remember that thy 
 departure will be not from men who have the same principles 
 as thyself. For this is the only things if there be any, whicH 
 could draw us the contrary way and attach us to life, to be 
 permitted to live with those who have the same prin- 
 ciples as ourselves. But now thou seest how great is the 
 trouble arising from the discordance of those who live to- 
 gether, so that thou mayst say. Come quick, O death, lest 
 perchance I, too, should forget myself. 
 
 4. He who does wrong does wrong against himsell He 
 who acts unjustly acts unjustly to himself, because he makes 
 himself bad. 
 
 5. He often acts unjustly who does not do a certain thing; 
 not only he who does a certain thing. 
 
 6. Thy present opinion founded on understanding, and thy 
 present conduct directed to social good, and thy present dis- 
 position of contentment with everything which hapgens — that 
 is enough. 
 
270 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUEELIUS 
 
 7. Wipe out imagination: check desire: extinguish ap- 
 petite : keep the ruling faculty in its own power. 
 
 8. Among the animals which have not reason one life is 
 distributed; but among reasonable animals one intelligent 
 soul is distributed: just as there is one earth of all things 
 which are of an earthy nature, and we see by one light, and 
 breathe one air, all of us that have the faculty of vision and 
 all that have life. 
 
 9. All things Vv^hich participate in anything which is com- 
 mon to them all move towards that which is of the same 
 kind with themselves. Everything v/hich is earthy turns 
 towards the earth, everything which is liquid flows together, 
 and everything w^hich is of an aerial kind does the same, 
 so that they require something to keep them asunder, and the 
 application of force. Fire indeed moves upwards on account 
 of the elemental fire, but it is so ready to be kindled together 
 with all the fire which is here, that even every substance 
 which is somewhat dry, is easily ignited, because there is 
 less mingled with it of that which is a hindrance to ignition. 
 Accordingly, then everything also which participates in the 
 common intelligent nature moves in like manner towards that 
 which is of the same kind with itself, or moves even more. 
 For so much as it is superior in comparison with all other 
 things, in the same degree also is it more ready to mingle 
 with and to be fused with that which is akin to it. Accord- 
 ingly among animals devoid of reason we find swarms of 
 bees, and herds of cattle, and the nurture of young birds, and 
 in a manner, loves; for even in animals there are souls, and 
 that power which brings them together is seen to exert itself 
 in the superior degree, and in such a way as never has been 
 observed in plants nor in stones nor in trees. But in rational 
 animals there are political communities and friendships, and 
 families and meetings of people; and in wars, treaties and 
 armistices. But in the things which are still superior, even 
 though they are separated from one another, unity in a man- 
 ner exists, as in the stars. Thus the ascent to the higher de- 
 gree is able to produce a sympathy even in things which are 
 separated. See then what now takes place. For only in- 
 telligent animals have now forgotten this mutual desire and 
 inclination, and in them alone the property of flowing to- 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 271 
 
 ^ether is not seen. But still, though men strive to avoid 
 [this union], they are caught and held by it, for their nature 
 is too strong for them ; and thou wilt see what I say, if thou 
 (inly observest. Sooner then v/ill one find anything earthy 
 which com.es in contact with no earthy thing than a man al- 
 together separated from other men. 
 
 10. Both man and God and the universe produce fruit; at 
 the proper seasons each produces it. But if usage has es- 
 pecially fixed these terms to the vine and like things, this 
 is nothing. Reason produces fruit both for all and for itself, 
 and there are produced from it other things of the same kind 
 as reason itself. 
 
 11. If thou art able, correct by teaching those who do 
 wrong; but if thou canst not, remember that indulgence is 
 given to thee for this purpose. And the gods, too, are indul- 
 gent to such persons ; and for some purposes they even help 
 them to get health, wealth, reputation; so kind they are. 
 And it is in thy power also; to say, who hinders thee? 
 
 12. Labour not as one who is wretched, nor yet as one who 
 would be pitied or admired; but direct thy will to one thing 
 only, to put thyself in motion and to check thyself, as the 
 social reason requires. 
 
 13. To-day I have got out of all trouble, or rather I have 
 cast out all trouble, for it was not outside, but within and 
 in my opinions. 
 
 14. All things are the same, familiar in experience, and 
 ephemeral in time, and worthless in the matter. Everything 
 now is just as it was in the time of those whom we have 
 buried. 
 
 15. Things stand outside of us, themselves by themselves, 
 neither knowing aught of themselves, nor expressing any 
 judgment. What is it, then, which does judge about them? 
 The ruling faculty. 
 
 16. Not in passivity, but in activity lie the evil and the 
 good of the rational social animal, just as his virtue and his 
 vice lie not In passivity, but in activity. 
 
 17. For the stone which has been thrown up it is no evil 
 to come down, nor indeed any good to have been carried up 
 (viii. 20). 
 
 18. Penetrate inwards into men's leading principles, ^d 
 
272 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 thou wilt see what judges thou art afraid of, and what 
 kind of judges they are of themselves. 
 
 19. All things are changing; and thou thyself art in cori- 
 tinuous mutation and in a manner in continuous destruction, 
 and the whole universe too. 
 
 20. It is thy duty to leave another man's wrongful act 
 there where it is (vii. 29, ix. 38). 
 
 21. Termination of activity^ cessation from movement and 
 opinion, and in a sense their death, is no evil. Turn thy 
 thoughts now to the consideration of thy life, thy life as a 
 child, as a youth, thy manhood, thy old age, for in these also 
 every change was a death. Is this anything to fear ? Turn 
 thy thoughts now to thy life under thy grandfather, then to 
 thy life under thy mother, then to thy life under thy father ; 
 and as thou findest many other differences and changes and 
 terminations, ask thyself, Is this anything to fear? In like 
 manner, then, neither are the termination and cessation and 
 change of thy whole life a thing to be afraid of. 
 
 22. Hasten [to examine] thy own ruling faculty and that 
 of the universe and that of thy neighbour; thy own 
 that thou mayst make it just; and that of the universe, 
 that thou mayst remember of what thou art a part; and 
 that of thy neighbour, that thou mayst know whether he 
 has acted ignorantly or with knowledge, and that thou 
 mayst also consider that his ruling faculty is akin to 
 thine. 
 
 23. As thou thyself art a component part of a social sys- 
 tem, so let every act of thine be a component part of social 
 life. Whatever act of thine then has no reference, either 
 immediately or remotely, to a social end, this tears asunder 
 thy life, and does not allow it to be one, and it is of the 
 nature of a mutiny, just as ,when in a popular assembly a 
 man acting by himself stands apart from the general agree- 
 ment. 
 
 24. Quarrels of little children and their sports, and poor 
 spirits carrying about dead bodies [such is everything] ; and 
 so what is exhibited in the representation of the mansions 
 of the dead strikes our eyes more clearly. 
 
 25. Examine into the quality of the form of an object, and 
 detach it altogether from its material part, and then con* 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 273 
 
 emplate it; then determine the time, the longest which a 
 filing of this pecuHar form is naturally made to endure. 
 
 26. Thou hast endured inj&nite troubles through not being 
 contented with thy ruling faculty, when it does the things 
 which it is constituted by nature to do. But enough [of 
 this]. 
 
 27. When another blames thee or hates thee, or when 
 men say about thee anything injurious, approach their 
 poor souls, penetrate within, and see what kind of men 
 they are. Thou wilt discover that there is no reason to take 
 any trouble that these men may have this or that opinion 
 about thee. However thou must be well-disposed towards 
 them, for by nature they are friends. And the gods too aid 
 them in all ways, by dreams, by signs, towards the attainment 
 of those things on which they set a value. 
 
 28. The periodic movements of the universe are the same, 
 up and down from age to age. And either the universal 
 intelligence puts itself in motion for every separate effect, 
 and if this is so, be thou content with that which is the result 
 of its activity ; or it puts itself in motion once, and everything 
 else comes by way of sequence in a manner; or indivisible 
 elements are the origin of all things. In a word, if there 
 is a god, all is well ; and if chance rules, do not thou also be 
 governed by it (vi. 44, vii. 75). y . 
 
 Soon will the earth cover us all: then the earth, too, will 
 change, and the things also which result from change will 
 continue to change forever, and these again forever. For 
 if a man reflects on the changes and transformations which 
 follow one another like wave after wave and their rapidity, 
 he will despise everything which is perishable (xii. 21). 
 
 29. The universal cause is like a winter torrent : it carries 
 everything along with it. But how worthless are all these 
 poor people v/ho are engaged in matters political, and, as 
 they suppose, are playing the philosopher! All drivelers. 
 Well then, man: do what nature now requires. Set thyself 
 in motion, if it is in thy power, and do not look about thee 
 to see if any one will observe it; nor yet expect Plato's Re- 
 public: but be content if the smallest thing goes on well, 
 and consider such an event to be no small matter. For 
 who can change men's opinions? And without a change of 
 
274 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 opinions what else is there than the slavery of men who 
 groan while they pretend to obey? Come now and tell m^ 
 of Alexander and Philippus and Demetrius of Phalerun:. 
 They themselves shall judge whether they discovered whst 
 the common nature required, and trained themselves ac- 
 cordingly. But if they acted like tragedy heroes, no one has 
 condemned me to imitate them. Simple and modest is the 
 work of philosophy. Draw me not aside to insolence and 
 pride. 
 
 30. Look down from above on the countless herds of men 
 and their countless solemnities, and the infinitely varied 
 voyagings in storms and calms, and the differences among 
 those who are born, who live together, and die. And con- 
 sider, too, the life lived by others in olden time, and the life 
 of those who will live after thee, and the life now lived 
 among barbarous nations, and how many know not even thy 
 name, and how many will soon forget it, and how they who 
 perhaps now are praising thee will very soon blame thee, 
 and that neither a posthumous name is of any value, nor 
 reputation, nor anything else. 
 
 31. Let there be freedom from perturbations with respect 
 to the things which come from the external cause; and let 
 there be justice in the things done by virtue of the internal 
 cause, that is, let there be movement and action terminating 
 in this, in social acts, for this is according to thy nature. 
 
 32. Thou canst remove out of the way many useless things 
 among those which disturb thee, for they lie entirely in thy 
 opinion; and thou wilt then gain for thyself ample space by 
 comprehending the whole universe in thy mind, and by con- 
 templating the eternity of time, and observing the rapid 
 change of every several thing, how short is the time from 
 birth to dissolution, and the illimitable time before birth 
 as well as the equally boundless time after dissolution. 
 
 33. All that thou seest will quickly perish, and those who 
 have been spectators of its dissolution v/ill very soon perish 
 too. And he v/ho dies at the extremest old age will be 
 brought into the same condition with him v/ho died pre- 
 maturely. 
 
 34. What are these men's leading principles, and about 
 what kind of things are they busy, and for v/hat kind of 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 275 
 
 reasons do they love and honour? Imagine that thou seest 
 their poor souls laid bare. When they think that they do 
 harm by their blame or good by their praise, what an idea ! 
 
 35. Loss is nothing else than change. But the universal 
 nature delights in change, and in obedience to her all things 
 are now done well, and from eternity have been done in 
 like form, and will be such to time without end. What then 
 dost thou say? That all things have been and all things 
 always will be bad, and that no povv^er has ever been found 
 in so many gods to rectify these things, but the world has 
 been condemned to be bound in never-ceasing evil? (iv. 45, 
 vii. 18.) 
 
 36. The rottenness of the matter which is the foundation 
 of ever3'-thing ! water, dust, bones, filth; or again, marble 
 rocks, the callosities of the earth; and gold and silver, the 
 sediments; and garments, only bits of hair; and purple dye, 
 blood; and everything else is of the same kind. And that 
 which is of the nature of breath, is also another thing of the 
 same kind, changing from this to that. 
 
 37. Enough of this wretched life and murmuring and 
 apish tricks. Why art thou disturbed? What is there new 
 in this? What unsettles thee? Is it the form of the thing? 
 Look at it. Or is it the matter? Look at it. But besides 
 these there is nothing. Towards the gods, then, now become 
 at last more simple and better. It is the same whether we 
 examine these things for a hundred years or three. 
 
 38. If any man has done wrong, the harm is his own. But 
 perhaps he has not done wrong. 
 
 39. Either all things proceed from one intelligent source 
 and com.e together as in one body, and the part ought not 
 to find fault with what is done for the benefit of the whole;, 
 or there are only atoms, and nothing else than mixture and 
 dispersion. Why then art thou disturbed? Say to the 
 ruling faculty. Art thou dead, art thou corrupted, art thou 
 playing the hypocrite, art thou become a beast, dost thou 
 herd and feed with the rest? 
 
 40. Either the gods have no power or they Have power. 
 If then they have no power, w^hy dost thou pray to them? 
 But if they have power, why dost thou not pray for them 
 to give thee the faculty of not fearing any of the things 
 
276 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 which thou fearest, or of not desiring any o£ the things 
 which thou desirest, or not being pained at anything, rather 
 than pray that any of these things should not happen or 
 happen? for certainly if they can co-operate with men^ they 
 can co-operate for these purposes. But perhaps thou wilt 
 say, the gods have placed them in thy power. Well, then, 
 is it not better to use what is in thy power like a free man 
 than to desire in a slavish and abject way what is not in 
 thy power? And who has told thee that the gods do not 
 aid us even in the things which are in our power? Begin, 
 then, to pray for such things, and thou wilt see. One man 
 prays thus : How shall I be able to lie with that woman ? 
 Do thou pray thus : How shall I not desire to lie with her ? 
 Another prays thus : How shall I be released from this ? An- 
 other prays : How shall I not desire to be released ? Another 
 thus : How shall I not lose my little son ? Thou thus : How 
 shall I not be afraid to lose him? In fine, turn thy prayers 
 this way, and see what comes. 
 
 41. Epicurus says, In my sickness my conversation was 
 not about my bodily sufferings, nor, says he, did I talk on 
 such subjects to those who visited me; but I continued to 
 discourse on the nature of things as before, keeping to this 
 main point, how the mind, while participating in such move- 
 ments as go on in the poor flesh, shall be free from per- 
 turbations and maintain its proper good. Nor did I, he 
 says, give the physicians an opportunity of putting on 
 solemn looks, as if they were doing something great, but my 
 life went on well and happily. Do then the same that he 
 did both in sickness, if thou art sick, and in any other cir- 
 cumstances; for never to desert philosophy in any events 
 that may befall us, nor to hold trifling talk either with an 
 ignorant man or with one unacquainted with nature, is a 
 principle of all schools of philosophy; but to be intent only 
 on that which thou art now doing and on the instrument 
 by which thou doest it. 
 
 42. When thou art offended with any man's shameless 
 conduct, immediately ask thyself. Is it possible then that 
 shameless men should not be in the world? It is not pos- 
 sible. Do not then require what is impossible. For this 
 man also is one of those shameless men who must of neces- 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 277 
 
 sity be in the world. Let the same considerations be present 
 to thy mind in the case of the knave, and the faithless m.an, 
 and of every man who does wrong in any way. For, at the 
 same time, that thou dost remind thyself that it is impossible 
 that such kind of m.en should not exist, thou wilt become 
 more kindly disposed towards every one individually. It is 
 useful to perceive this, too, immediately when the occasion 
 arises, v/hat virtue nature has given to man to oppose to 
 every wrongful act. For she has given to man, as an anti- 
 dote against the stupid man, mildness, and against another 
 kind of m.an some other power. And in all cases it is pos- 
 sible for thee to correct by teaching the man who is gone 
 astray; for every man who errs misses his object and is gone 
 astray. Besides Vv'herein hast thou been injured? For thou 
 wilt find that no one among those against whom thou art 
 irritated has done anything by which thy mind could be made 
 worse; but that which is evil to thee and harmful has its 
 foundation only in the mind. And what harm is done or 
 what is there strange, if the man who has not been instructed 
 does the acts of an unlnstructed man? Consider whether 
 thou shouldst not rather blame thyself, because thou didst 
 not expect such a man to err in such a way. For thou hadst 
 means given thee by thy reason to suppose that it was likely 
 that he would commit this error, and yet thou hast forgotten 
 and art amazed that he has erred. But most of all when 
 thou blamest a man as faithless or ungrateful, turn to thy- 
 self. For the fault is manifestly thy own, whether thou didst 
 trust that a man who had such a disposition would keep 
 his promise, or when conferring thy kindness thou didst not 
 confer it absolutely, nor yet in such way as to have received 
 from thy very act all the profit. For what more dost thou 
 want when thou hast done a mian a service? Art thou not 
 content that thou hast done something conformable to thy 
 nature, and dost thou seek to be paid for it ? Just as if the 
 eye demanded a recompense for seeing, or the feet for walk- 
 ing. For as these members are formed for a particular pur- 
 pose, and by working according to their several constitutions 
 obtain what is their own ; so also as man is formed by nature 
 to acts of benevolence, when he has done anything benevo- 
 lent or in any other way conducive to the common interest^ 
 
278 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 he has acted conformably to his constitution, and he gets 
 what is his own. 
 
 'ILT thou then, my soul, never be good and simple 
 and one and naked, more manifest than the body 
 which surrounds thee? Wilt thou never enjoy an 
 affectionate and contented disposition? Wilt thou never be 
 full and without a want of any kind, longing for nothing 
 more, nor desiring anything, either animate or inanimate, 
 for the enjoyment of pleasures? nor yet desiring time 
 wherein thou shalt have longer enjoyment, or place, or pleas- 
 ant climate, or society of men with whom thou mayst live 
 in harmony ? but wilt thou be satisfied with thy present con- 
 dition, and pleased with all that is about thee, and wilt thou 
 convince thyself that thou hast everything and that it comes 
 from the gods, that everything is well for thee, and will be 
 well whatever shall please them, and v^^hatever they shall 
 give for the conservation of the perfect living being, the 
 good and just and beautiful, which generates and holds to- 
 gether all things, and contains and embraces all things which 
 are dissolved for the production of other like things? Wilt 
 thou never be such that thou shalt so dwell in community 
 with gods and men as neither to find fault with them at all, 
 nor to be condemned by them? 
 
 2. Observe what thy nature requires, so far as thou art 
 governed by nature only; then do it and accept it, if thy 
 nature, so far as thou art a living being, shall not be made 
 worse by it. And next thou must observe what thy nature 
 requires so far as thou art a living being. And all this thou 
 mayst allow thyself, if thy nature, so far as thou art a 
 rational animal, shall not be made worse by it. But the 
 rational animal is consequently also a political [social] ani- 
 mal. Use these rules then, and trouble thyself about noth- 
 ing else. 
 
 3. Everything which happens either happens in such wise 
 as thou art formed by nature to bear it, or as thou art not 
 formed by nature to bear it. If then it happens to thee 
 in such way as thou art formed by nature to bear it, do not 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 279 
 
 complain, but bear it as thou art formed by nature to bear 
 it. But if it happens in such wise as thou art not formed 
 by nature to bear it, do not complain, for it will perish after 
 it has consumed thee. Remember, however, that thou art 
 formed by nature to bear everything, with respect to which it 
 depends on thy ovv^n opinion to make it endurable and toler- 
 able, by thinking that it is either thy interest or thy duty 
 to do this. 
 
 4. If a man is mistaken, instruct him kindly and show him 
 his error. But if thou art not able, blame thyself, or blame 
 not even thyself. 
 
 5. Whatever may happen to thee, it was prepared for thee 
 from all eternity; and the implication of causes was from 
 eternity spinning the thread of thy being, and of that which 
 is incident to it (iii. 11 ; iv. 26), 
 
 6. Whether the universe is [a concourse of] atoms, or 
 nature [is a system], let this first be established, that I am 
 a part of the whole which is governed by nature; next, I 
 am in a manner intimately related to the parts which are 
 of the same kind with myself. For remembering this, in- 
 asmuch as I am a part, I shall be discontented with none 
 of the things which are assigned to me out of the whole; 
 for nothing is injurious to the part, if it is for the advantage 
 of the whole. For the whole contains nothing which is not 
 for its advantage; and all natures indeed have this common 
 principle, but the nature of the universe has this principle 
 besides, that it cannot be compelled even by any external 
 cause to generate anything harmful to itself. By remem- 
 bering then that I am a part of such a whole, I shall be 
 content with everything that happens. And inasmuch as I 
 am in a manner intimately related to the parts which are 
 of the same kind with myself, I shall do nothing unsocial, 
 but I shall rather direct myself to the things which are of 
 the same kind with m^yself, and I shall turn all my efforts 
 to the common interest, and divert them from the contrary. 
 Now, if these things are done so, life must flow on happily, 
 just as thou mayst observe that the life of a citizen is 
 happy, who continues a course of action which is advanta- 
 geous to his fellow-citizens, and is content with whatever the 
 state may assign to him. 
 
280 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUKELIUS 
 
 7. The parts of the whole, everything, I mean, which i§ 
 naturally comprehended in the universe, must of necessity 
 perish; but let this be understood in this sense, that they 
 must undergo change. But if this is naturally both an evil 
 and a necessity for the parts, the whole would not continue 
 to exist in a good condition, the parts being subject to change 
 and constituted so as to perish in various ways. For whether 
 did nature herself design to do evil to the things which are 
 parts of herself, and to make them subject to evil and of 
 necessity fall into evil, or have such results happened without 
 her knowing it? .Both these suppositions, indeed, are in- 
 credible. But if a man should even drop the term Nature 
 [as an efficient power], and should speak of these things 
 as natural, even then it would be ridiculous to affirm at the 
 same time that the parts of the whole are in their nature 
 subject to change, and at the same time to be surprised or 
 vexed as if something were happening contrary to nature, 
 particularly as the dissolution of things is into those things 
 of which each thing is composed. For there is either a 
 dispersion of the elements out of which every thing has been 
 compounded, or a change from the solid to the earthy and 
 from the airy to the aerial, so that these parts are taken 
 back into the universal reason, whether this at certain 
 periods is consumed by fire or renewed by eternal changes. 
 And do not imagine that the solid and the airy part belong 
 to thee from the time of generation. For all this received 
 its accretion only yesterday, and the day before, as one 
 may say, from the food and the air which is inspired. This 
 then, which has received [the accretion], changes, not that 
 which thy mother brought forth. But suppose that this 
 [which thy mother brought forth] implicates thee very much 
 with that other part, which has the peculiar quality [of 
 change], this is nothing in fact in the way of objection to 
 what is said. 
 
 8. When thou hast assumed these names, good, modesty 
 true, rational, a man of equanimity, and magnanimous, take 
 care thou dost not change these names ; and if thou shouldst 
 lose them, quickly return to them. And remember that tha 
 term Rational was intended to signify a discriminating at^ 
 tention to every several thing and freedom from negligencej 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 281 
 
 and tliat Equanimity is the voluntary acceptance of the 
 things which are assigned to thee by the common nature; 
 and that Magnanimity is the elevation of the intelligent part 
 above the pleasurable or painful sensations of the flesh, and 
 above that poor thing called fame, and death, and all such 
 things. If, then, thou maintainest thyself in the possession 
 of these nam.es, without desiring to be called by these names 
 by others, thou wilt be another person and wilt enter on 
 another life. For to continue to be such as thou hast 
 hitherto been, and to be torn in pieces and defiled in such 
 a life, is the character of a very stupid man and one over- 
 fond of his life, and like those half-devoured fighters with 
 wild beasts, who, though covered with w^ounds and gore, 
 still entreat to be kept to the following day, though they will 
 be exposed in the same state to the same claws and bites. 
 Therefore fix thyself in the possession of these few names: 
 and if thou art able to abide in them, abide as if thou wast 
 removed to certain islands of the Happy. But if thou shalt 
 perceive that thou fallest out of them and dost not maintain 
 thy hold, go courageously into some nook where thou shalt 
 maintain them, or even depart at once from life, not in 
 passion, but with simplicity and freedom and modesty, after 
 doing this one [laudable] thing at least in thy life, to have 
 gone out of it thus. In order, however, to the rem.embrance 
 of these nam.es, it will greatly help thee, if thou rememberest 
 the gods, and that they wish not to be flattered, but wish 
 all reasonable beings to be made like themselves ; and if thou 
 rememberest that what does the work of a fig-tree is a fig- 
 tree, and that what does the v/ork of a dog is a dog, and 
 that what does the work of a bee is a bee, and that what does 
 the work of a man is a man. 
 
 9. Mimi, w^ar, astonishment, torpor, slavery, will daily 
 wipe out those holy principles of thine. How many things 
 without studying nature dost thou imagine, and how many 
 dost thou neglect? But it is thy duty so to look on and so 
 to do everything, that at the same time the pov/er of dealing 
 with circumstances is perfected, and the contemplative fac- 
 ulty is exercised, and the confidence which comes from the 
 knowledge of each several thing is maintained without show- 
 ing it, but yet not concealed. For yvhen wilt thou enjoy 
 
282 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUEELIUS 
 
 simplicity, when gravity, and when the knowledge of every 
 several thing, both what it is in substance, and what place 
 it has in the universe, and how long it is formed to exist, 
 and of what things it is compounded, and to whom it can 
 belong, and who are able both to give it and take it 
 away? 
 
 10. A spider is proud when it has caught a fly, and an- 
 other v/hen he has caught a poor hare, and another when 
 he has taken the little fish in a net, and another when he 
 has taken wild boars, and another when he has taken bears, 
 and another when he has taken Sarmatians. Are not these 
 robbers, if thou examinest their opinions? 
 
 11. Acquire the contemplative way of seeing How all 
 things change into one another, and constantly attend to it, 
 and exercise thyself about this part [of philosophy]. For 
 nothing is so much adapted to produce magnanimity. Such 
 a man has put off the body, and as he sees that he must, 
 no one knows how soon, go away from among men and leave 
 everything here, he gives himself up entirely to just doing 
 in all his actions, and in everything else that happens be 
 resigns himself to the universal nature. But as to what any 
 man shall say or think about him, or do against him, he 
 never even thinks of it, being himself contented with these 
 two things, 3vith acting justly in what he now does, and 
 being satisfied with what is now assigned to him' and lie 
 lays aside all distracting and busy pursuits, and desires 
 nothing else than to accomplish the straight course through 
 the law, and by accomplishing the straight course to follow 
 God. 
 
 12. What need is there of suspicious fear, since it Is 
 in thy power to inquire what ought to be done? And if 
 thou seest clear, go by this way content, without turning 
 back: but if thou dost not see clear, stop and take the best 
 advisers. But if any other things oppose thee^ go on ac- 
 cording to thy powers with due consideration, keeping to 
 that which appears to be just. For it is best to reach this 
 object, and if thou dost fail, let thy failure be in attempting 
 this. He who follows reason in all things is both tranquil 
 and active at the same time, and also cheerful and collected. 
 
 13. Inquire of thyself as soon as thou wakest from sleep 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 283 
 
 whether it will make any difference to thee, i£ another does 
 what is just and right. It will make no difference (vi. 
 32; viii. 55). 
 
 Thou has not forgotten, I suppose, that those who assume 
 arrogant airs in bestowing their praise or blame on others, 
 arc such as they are at bed and at board, and thou hast not 
 forgotten what they do, and what they avoid and what they 
 pursue, and how they steal and how they rob, not with hands 
 and feet, but with their most valuable part, by means of 
 which there is produced, when a man chooses, fidelity, mod- 
 esty, truth, lav/, a good daemon [happiness]? (vii. 17). 
 
 14. To her who gives and takes back all, to nature, the 
 man who is instructed and modest says, Give what thou wilt ; 
 take back what thou v/ilt. And he says this not proudly, 
 but obediently and well pleased with her. 
 
 15. Short is the little which remains to thee of life. Live 
 as on a mountain. For it makes no difference whether a 
 man lives there or here, if he lives everywhere in the world 
 as in a state [political community]. Let men see, let them 
 know a real man who lives according to nature. If they 
 cannot endure him, let them kill him. For that is better 
 than to live thus [as men do]. 
 
 16. No longer talk at all about the kind of man that a 
 good man ought to be, but be such. 
 
 17. Constantly contemplate the whole of time and the 
 whole of substance, and consider that all individual things 
 as to substance are a grain of a fig, and as to time the 
 turning of a gimlet. 
 
 18. Look at everything that exists, and observe that it 
 is already in dissolution and in change, and as it v/ere putre- 
 faction or dispersion, or that everything is so constituted 
 by nature as to die. 
 
 19. Consider what men are when they are eating, sleeping, 
 generating, easing themselves and so forth. Then what kind 
 of men they are when they are imxperious and arrogant, or 
 angry and scolding from their elevated place. But a short 
 time ago to hov/ many they were slaves and for what things : 
 and after a little time consider in what a condition they 
 will be. 
 
 20. Xhat is for the good of each thing, which the universal 
 
284 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 nature brings to each. And it is for its good^at tHe time 
 jvhen nature brings it. 
 
 21. " The earth loves the shower; " and " the solemn aether 
 loves : " and the universe loves to make whatever is about to 
 be. I say then to the universe, that I love as thou lovest. 
 And is not this too said^ that " this or that loves [is wont] to 
 be produced." 
 
 22. Either thou livest here and hast already accustomed 
 thyself to it, or thou art going away, and this was thy own 
 will: or thou art dying and hast discharged thy duty. But 
 besides these things there is nothing. Be of good cheer, then. 
 
 23. Let this always be plain to thee, that this piece of land 
 is like any other; and that all things here are the same with 
 things on the top of a mountain, or on the sea-shore, or 
 wherever thou choosest to be. For thou wilt find just what 
 Plato says. Dwelling vs^ithin the walls of a city as in a shep- 
 herd's fold on a mountain. [The three last words are omitted 
 in the translation.] 
 
 24. What is my ruling faculty now to me? and of what 
 nature am I now making it ? and for what purpose am I now 
 using it? is it void of understanding? is it loosed and rent 
 asunder from social life ? is it melted into and mixed with the 
 poor flesh so as to move together with it? 
 
 25. He who flies from his master is a runaway; but the 
 law is master, and he who breaks the law is a runaway. And 
 he also who is grieved or angry or afraid, is dissatisfied be- 
 cause something has been or is or shall be of the things 
 which are appointed by him who rules all things, and he is 
 Lav/, and assigns to every man what is fit. He then who 
 fears or is grieved or is angry is a runaway. 
 
 26. A man deposits seed in a womb and goes away, and 
 then another cause takes it, and labours on it and makes a 
 child. What a thing from such a material ! Again, the 
 child passes food down through the throat, and then another 
 cause takes it and makes perception and motion, and in fine 
 life and strength and other things; how many and how 
 strange ! Observe then the things which are produced in 
 such a hidden way, and see the power just as we see the 
 power which carries things downwards and upwards, not with 
 the eyes, but still no less plainly (vii. 75). 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AUEELIUS 285 
 
 27. Constancy consider how all things such as they now 
 are, in time past also were; and consider that they will he 
 the same again. And place before thy eyes entire dramas 
 and stages of the same form, whatever thou hast learne4 
 from thy experience or from older history; for example, the 
 whole court of Hadrianus, and the whole court of Antoninus^ 
 and the whole court of Philippus, Alexander, Croesus; for 
 all those were such dramas as we see now, only with different 
 actors. 
 
 28. Imagine every man who is grieved at anything or dis- 
 contented to be like a pig which is sacrificed and kicks and 
 screams. 
 
 Like this pig also is he who on his bed in silence laments 
 the bonds in which we are held. And consider that only 
 to the rational animal is it given to follow voluntarily what 
 happens ; but sim.ply to follow is a necessity imposed on all. 
 
 29. Severally on the occasion of everything that thou doest, 
 pause and ask thyself, if death is a dreadful thing because 
 it deprives thee of this. 
 
 30. When thou art offended at any man's fault, forthwith 
 turn to thyself and reflect in what like manner thou dost err 
 thyself; for example, in thinking that money is a good thing, 
 or pleasure, or a bit of reputation, and the like. For by 
 attending to this thou wilt quickly forget thy anger, if this 
 consideration also is added, that the man is compelled; for 
 what else could he do? or, if thou art able, take away from 
 him the compulsion. 
 
 31. When thou hast seen Satyron the Socratic, think of 
 either Eutyches or Hymen, and w^hen thou hast seen Eu- 
 phrates, think of Eutychion or Silvanus, and when thou hast 
 seen Alciphron think of Tropaeophorus, and when thou hast 
 seen Xenophon think of Crito or Severus, and when thou hast 
 looked on thyself, think of any other Caesar, and in the case 
 of every one do in like manner. Then let this thought be in 
 thy mind, Where then are those men? Nowhere, or nobody 
 knows where. For thus continuously thou wilt look at hu- 
 man things as smoke and nothing at all; especially if thou 
 reflectest at the same time that what has once changed will 
 never exist again in the infinite duration of time. But thou. 
 m what a brief space of time is thy existence ? And why art 
 
286 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 thou not content to pass through this short time in an orderly 
 way? What matter and opportunity [for thy activity] art 
 thou avoiding? For what else are all these things, except 
 exercises for the reason, when it has viewed carefully and by 
 examination into their nature the things which happen in 
 life ? Persevere then until thou shalt have made these things 
 thy own, as the stomach which is strengthened makes all things 
 its own, as the blazing fire makes flame and brightness out 
 of everything that is thrown into it„ 
 
 32. Let it not be in any mean's power to say truly of thee 
 that thou art not simple, or that thou art not good; but let 
 him be a liar whoever shall think anything of this kind about 
 thee; and this is altogether in thy power. For who is he 
 that shall hinder thee from being good and simple ? Do thou 
 only determine to live no longer, unless thou shalt be such. 
 For neither does reason allow [thee to live], if thou art 
 not such. 
 
 33. What is that which as to this material [our life] can be 
 done or said in the way most conformable to reason. For 
 whatever this may be, it is in thy power to do it or to say it. 
 and do not make excuses that thou art hindered. Thou wilt 
 not cease to lament till thy mind is in such a condition that, 
 what luxury is to those who enjoy pleasure, such shall be 
 to thee, in the matter which is subjected and presented to 
 thee, the doing of the things v/hich are conformable to man's 
 constitution; for a man ought to consider as an enjo3'-ment 
 everything which it is in his power to do according to his 
 own nature. And it is in his power everywhere. Now, it 
 is not given to a cylinder to move everywhere by its own 
 motion, nor yet to water nor to fire nor to anything else 
 which is governed by nature or an irrational soul, for the 
 things which check them and stand in the way are many. 
 But intelligence and reason are able to go through everything 
 that opposes them, and in such manner as they are formed 
 by nature and as they choose. Place before thy eyes this 
 facility with which the reason will be carried through all 
 things, as fire upwards, as a stone downwards, as a cylinder 
 down an inclined surface, and seek for nothing further. For 
 all other obstacles either affect the body which is a dead 
 thing; or, except through opinion and the yielding of the 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 287 
 
 reason itself, they do not crush nor do any harm of any kind ; 
 for if they did, he who felt it would immediately become bad. 
 Now, in the case of all things which have a certain con- 
 stitution, v/hatever harm may happen to any of them, that 
 which is so affected becomes consequently worse; but in the 
 like case, a man becomes both better, if one may say so, and 
 more worthy of praise by making a right use of these ac- 
 cidents. And finally remember that nothing harms him who 
 is really a citizen, v/hich does not harm the state ; nor yet does 
 anything harm the state which does not harm law [order] ; 
 and of these things which are called misfortunes not one 
 harms law. What then does not harm law does not harm 
 either state or citizen. 
 
 34. To him who is penetrated by true principles even the 
 briefest precept is sufficient, and any common precept, to re- 
 mind him that he should be free from grief and fear. For 
 example : 
 
 Leaves, some the wind scatters on the ground- 
 So is the race of men. 
 
 Leaves, also, are thy children; and leaves, too, are they who 
 cry out as if they were worthy of credit and bestow their 
 praise, or on the contrary curse, or secretly blame and sneer ; 
 and leaves, in like manner, are those who shall receive and 
 transmit a man's fam.e to after-times. For all such things 
 as these " are produced in the season of spring," as the poet 
 says; then the wind casts them down; then the forest pro- 
 duces other leaves in their places. But a brief existence is 
 common to all things, and yet thou avoidest and pursuest all 
 things as if they would be eternal. A little time, and thou 
 shalt close thy eyes; and him who has attended thee to thy 
 grave another soon will lam.ent. 
 
 35. The healthy eye ought to see all visible things and not 
 to say, I wish for green things ; for this is the condition of a 
 diseased eye. And the healthy hearing and smelling ought 
 to be ready to perceive all that can be heard and smelled. 
 And the healthy stomach ought to be with respect to all food 
 just as the mill with respect to all things which it is formed 
 to grind. And accordingly the healthy understanding ought 
 to be prepared for everything which happens ; but that which 
 says, Let my dear children live, and let all men praise what- 
 
288 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 ever I may do, is an eye which seeks for green things, or 
 teeth which seek for soft things. 
 
 36. There is no man so fortunate that there shall not be 
 by him when he is dying some who are pleased with what is 
 going to happen. Suppose that he was a good and wise 
 man, will there not be at last some one to say to himself. 
 Let us at last breathe freely being relieved from this school- 
 master? It is true that he was harsh to none of us, but I 
 perceived that he tacitly condemns us. This is what is said 
 of a good man. But in our own case how many other things 
 are there for which there are many who wish to get rid of 
 uSo Thou wilt consider this then when thou art dying, and 
 thou wilt depart more contentedly by reflecting thus: I am 
 going av/ay from such a life, in which even my associates in 
 behalf of whom I have striven so much, prayed, and cared, 
 themselves wish me to depart, hoping perchance to get some 
 little advantage by it. Why, then, should a man cling to a 
 longer stay here ? Do not, however, for this reason go away 
 less kindly disposed to them, but preserving thy own char- 
 acter, and friendly and benevolent and mild, and on the 
 other hand not as if thou wast torn away; but as when a 
 man dies a quiet death, the poor soul is easily separated 
 from the body, such also ought thy departure from men to be, 
 for nature united thee to them and associated thee. But does 
 she now dissolve the union? Well, I am separated as from 
 kinsmen, not however dragged resisting, but without compul- 
 sion; for this too is one of the things according to nature. 
 
 37. Accustom thyself as much as possible on the occasion 
 of anything being done by any person to inquire with thyself, 
 For what object is this man doing this? but begin with thy- 
 self, and examine thyself first. 
 
 38. Remember that this which pulls the strings is the thing 
 which is hidden within : this is the power of persuasion, this 
 is life; this, if one may so say, is man. In contemplating 
 thyself never include the vessel which surrounds thee, and 
 these instruments v/hich are attached about it. For they are 
 like to an ax, differing only in this that they grow to the 
 body. For indeed there is no more use in these parts without 
 the cause which moves and checks them than in the weaver's 
 shuttle, and the writer's pen, and the driver's whip. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MAHCUS AURELIUS 289 
 
 XI 
 
 THESE are the properties of the rational soul: it sees 
 itself, analyzes itself, and makes itself such as it 
 chooses; the fruit which it bears itself enjoys — for the 
 fruits of plants and that in animals which corresponds to 
 fruits others enjoy — it obtains its own end, wherever the 
 limit of life may be fixed. Not as in a dance and in a play 
 and in such like things, where the whole action is incomplete, 
 if anything cuts it short; but in every part and wherever it 
 may be stopped, it makes what has been set before it full and 
 complete, so that it can say, I have what is my own. And 
 further it traverses the whole universe, and the surrounding 
 vacuum, and surveys its form, and it extends itself into the 
 infinity of time, and embraces and comprehends the periodical 
 renovation of all things, and it comprehends that those who 
 come after us will see nothing new, nor have those before 
 us seen anything more^ but in a manner he who is forty years 
 old, if he has any understanding at all, has seen by virtue of 
 the uniformity that prevails all things which have been and 
 all that will be. This too is a property of the rational soul, 
 love of one's neighbour, and truth and modesty, and to value 
 nothing more than itself, which is also the property of Law. 
 Thus then right reason differs not at all from the reason of 
 justice. 
 
 2. Thou wilt set little value on pleasing song and dancing 
 and the pancratium, if thou wilt distribute the melody of the 
 voice into its several sounds, and ask thyself as to each, if 
 thou art mastered by this; for thou wilt be prevented by 
 shame from confessing it: and in the matter of dancing, if 
 at each movement and attitude thou wilt do the same; and 
 the like also in the matter of the pancratium. In all things 
 then, except virtue and the acts of virtue, remember to apply 
 thyself to their several parts, and by this division to come 
 to value them little : and apply this rule also to thy whole life. 
 
 3. What a soul that is which is ready, if at any moment it 
 must be separated from the body, and ready either to be ex- 
 tinguished or dispersed or continue to exist; but so that this 
 readiness comes from a man's own judgment, not from mere 
 
 IQ Hc— Vol. 2 
 
290 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELiUS 
 
 obstinacy, as with the Christians, but considerately and with 
 dignity and in a way to persuade another, without tragic 
 show, 
 
 4. Have I done something for the general interest? Well 
 then I have had my reward. Let this always be present to 
 thy mind, and never stop [doing such good]. 
 
 5. What is thy art? to be good. And how is this accom- 
 plished well except by general principles, some about the 
 nature of the universe, and others about the proper con- 
 stitution of man ? 
 
 6. At first tragedies were brought on the stage as means 
 
 of reminding men of the things which happen to them, and 
 
 that it is according to nature for things to happen so, and 
 
 that, if you are delighted with what is shown on the stage, 
 
 you should not be troubled with that which takes place on 
 
 the larger stage. For you see that these things must be 
 
 accomplished thus, and that even they bear them who cry 
 
 out, " O Cithaeron." And, indeed, some things are said well 
 
 by the dramatic writers, of which kind is the following 
 
 especially — 
 
 Me and my children if the gods neglect, 
 This has its reason too. 
 
 And again — 
 
 We must not chafe and fret at that which happens. 
 
 And — 
 
 Life's harvest reap like the wheat's fruitful ear. 
 
 And other things of the same kind. 
 
 After tragedy the old comedy was introduced, which had 
 a magisterial freedom of speech, and by its very plainness 
 of speaking was useful in reminding men to beware of inso- 
 lence; and for this purpose too Diogenes used to take from 
 these writers. 
 
 But as to the middle comedy which came next, observe 
 what it was, and again, for what object the new comedy was 
 introduced, which gradually sunk down into a mere mimic 
 artifice. That some good things are said even by these 
 writers, everybody knows : but the whole plan of such poetry 
 and dramaturgy, to what end does it look ! 
 7. How plain does it appear that there is not another con- 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 291 
 
 ditlon of life so well suited for philosophizing as this in 
 which thou now happenest to be. 
 
 8. A branch cut off from the adjacent branch must of 
 necessity be cut off from the whole tree also. So too a man 
 when he is separated from another man has fallen off from 
 the whole social community. Now as to a branch, another 
 cuts it oft*^ but a man by his own act separates himself from 
 his neighbour when he hates him and turns away from him, 
 and he does not know that he has at the same time cut him- 
 self off from the whole social system. Yet he has this priv- 
 ilege certainly from Zeus who framed society, for it is in our 
 power to grow again to that which is near to us, and again to 
 become a part which helps to make up the whole. However, 
 if it often happens, this kind of separation, it makes it diffi- 
 cult for that which detaches itself to be brought to unity and 
 to be restored to its former condition. Finally, the branch, 
 which from the first grew together with the tree, and has 
 continued to have one life with it, is not like that which after 
 being cut off is then ingrafted, for this is something like what 
 the gardeners mean when they say that it grows with the 
 rest of the tree, but that it has not the same mind with it. 
 
 9. As those who try to stand in thy way when thou art 
 proceeding according to right reason, will not be able to 
 turn thee aside from thy proper action, so neither let them, 
 drive thee from thy benevolent feelings tov^rards them, but 
 be on thy guard equally in both matters, not only in the mat- 
 ter of steady judgment and action, but also in the matter 
 of gentleness towards those who try to hinder or otherwise 
 trouble thee. For this also is a weakness, to be vexed at 
 them, as well as to be diverted from thy course of action and 
 to give way through fear ; for both are equally deserters from 
 their post, the man who does it through fear, and the man 
 who is alienated from him who is by nature a kinsman and 
 a friend. 
 
 10. There is no nature which is inferior to art, for the 
 arts imitate the natures of things. But if this is so, that 
 nature which is the most perfect and the most comprehensive 
 of all natures, cannot fall short of the skill of art. Now all 
 arts do the inferior things for the sake of the superior ; there- 
 fore the universal nature does so too. And, indeed; hence is 
 
292 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 the origin of justice, and in justice the other virtues have 
 their foundation: for justice will not be observed, if we 
 either care for middle things [things indifferent], or are 
 easily deceived and careless and changeable (v. i6, 30; 
 
 vii. 55)- 
 
 11. If the things do not come to thee, the pursuits and 
 avoidances of which disturb thee, still in a manner thou 
 goest to them. Let then thy judgment about them be at 
 rest, and they will remain quiet, and thou wilt not be seen 
 either pursuing or avoiding. 
 
 12. The spherical form of the soul maintains its figure, 
 when it is neither extended towards any object, nor contracted 
 inwards, nor dispersed nor sinks down, but is illuminated by 
 light, by which it sees the truth, the truth of all things and 
 the truth that is in itself (viii. 41, 45; xii. 3). 
 
 13. Suppose any man shall despise me. Let him look to 
 that himself. But I will look to this, that I be not discovered 
 doing or saying anything deserving of contempt. Shall any 
 man hate me? Let him look to it. But I will be mild and 
 benevolent towards every man, and ready to show even him 
 his mistake, not reproachfully, nor yet as making a display 
 of my endurance, but nobly and honestly, like the great Pho- 
 cion, unless indeed he only assumed it. For the interior 
 [parts] ought to be such, and a man ought to be seen by the 
 gods neither dissatisfied with anything nor complaining. For 
 what evil is it to thee, if thou art now doing what is agree- 
 able to thy own nature, and art satisfied with that which at 
 this moment is suitable to the nature of the universe, since 
 thou art a human being placed at thy post in order that what 
 is for the comm^on advantage may be done in some way? 
 
 14. Men despise one another and flatter one another; and 
 men wish to raise themselves above one another, and crouch 
 before one another. 
 
 15. How unsound and insincere is he who says, I have 
 determined to deal with thee in a fair way. — What art thou 
 doing, man? There is no occasion to give this notice. It 
 will soon show itself by arts. The voice ought to be plainly 
 written on the forehead. Such as a man's character is, he 
 immediately shows it in his eyes, just as he who is beloved 
 forthwith reads everything in the eyes of lovers. The man 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MAKCUS AURELIUS 293 
 
 who is honest and good ought to be exactly like a man who 
 smells strong, so that the bystander as soon as he comes near 
 him must smell vv^hether he choose or not. But the affecta- 
 tion of simplicity is like a crooked stick. Nothing is more 
 disgraceful than a wolfish friendship [false friendship]. 
 Avoid this most of all. The good and simple and benevolent 
 show all these things in the eyes, and there is no mistaking 
 
 1 6. As to living in the best way, this power is in the soul, 
 if it be indifferent to things which are indifferent. And it 
 will be indifferent, if it looks on each of these things sepa- 
 rately and all together, and if it remembers that not one of 
 them produces in us an opinion about itself, nor comes to us ; 
 fcut these things remain immovable, and it is we ourselves 
 who produce the judgments about them, and, as we may say, 
 write them in ourselves, it being in our power not to write 
 them, and it being in our power, if perchance these judgments 
 have imperceptibly got admission to our minds, to wipe them 
 out; and if we remember also that such attention will only 
 be for a short time, and then life will be at an end. Besides, 
 what trouble is there at all in doing this? For if these 
 things are according to nature, rejoice in them, and they will 
 be easy to thee: but if contrary to nature, seek what is con- 
 formable to thy own nature^ and strive towards this, even if it 
 bring no reputation; for every man is allowed to seek his 
 own good. 
 
 17. Consider whence each thing is come, and of what it 
 consists, and into what it changes, and what kind of a thing 
 it will be when it has changed, and that it will sustain no 
 harm. 
 
 18. [If any have offended against thee, consider first] : 
 What is my relation to men, and that we are made for one 
 another; and in another respect, I was made to be set over 
 them, as a ram over the flock or a bull over the herd. But 
 examine the matter from first principles, from this: If all 
 things are not mere atoms, it is nature which orders all 
 things : if this is so, the inferior things exist for the sake of 
 the superior, and these for the sake of one another (ii. i ; 
 ix. 39; V. 16; iii. 4). 
 
 Second, consider what kind of men they are at table, in 
 bed, and so forth; and particularly, under what compulsions 
 
294 THE MEDITATION OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 in respect of opinions they are ; and as to their acts, consider 
 with vv^hat pride they do what they do (viii. 14; ix. 34). 
 
 Third, that if men do rightly what they do, we ought 
 not to be displeased ; but if they do not right, it is plain that 
 they do so involuntarily and in ignorance. For as every soul 
 is unwillingly deprived of the truth, so also is it unwillingly 
 deprived of the power of behaving to each rnan according to his 
 deserts. Accordingly men are pained when they are called 
 unjust, ungrateful, and greedy^ and in a word wrong-doers 
 to their neighbours (vii. 62, 63; ii. i; vii. 26; viii. 29). 
 
 Fourth, consider that thou also doest many things wrong, 
 and that thou art a man like others; and even if thou dost 
 abstain from certain faults, still thou hast the disposition to 
 commit them, though either through cov/ardice, or concern 
 about reputation or some such mean motive, thou dost 
 abstain from such faults (i. 17). 
 
 Fifth, consider that thou dost not even understand vv^hether 
 men are doing wrong or not, for many things are done with 
 a certain reference to circumstances. And, in short, a man 
 must learn a great deal to enable him to pass a correct judg- 
 ment on another man's acts (ix. 38; iv. 51). 
 
 Sixth, consider when thou art much vexed or grieved, that 
 man's life is only a m^oment, and after a short time we are 
 all laid out dead (vii. 58; iv. 48). 
 
 Seventh, that it is not men's acts which disturb us, for 
 those acts have their foundation in men's ruling principles, 
 but it is our own opinions which disturb us. Take away 
 these opinions then, and resolve to dismiss thy judgment 
 about an act as if it were something grievous, and thy anger 
 is gone. How then shall I take away these opinions? By 
 reflecting that no wrongful act of another brings shame on 
 thee: for unless that which is shameful is alone bad, thou 
 also must of necessity do many things wrong, and become a 
 robber and everything else (v. 25; vii. 16). 
 
 Eighth, consider how much more pain is brought on us 
 by the anger and vexation caused by such acts than by the 
 acts themselves, at which we are angry and vexed (iv, 
 39, 49; vii. 24). 
 
 Ninth, consider that a good disposition is invincible, if it be 
 genuine, and not an affected smile and acting a part^ For 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 295 
 
 what will the most violent man do to thee, if thou continuest 
 to be of a kind disposition towards him, and if, as opportunity 
 offers, thou gently admonishest him and calmly correctest his 
 errors at the very time when he is trying to do thee harm, 
 ssying. Not so, my child: we are constituted by nature for 
 somiCthing else: I shall certainly not be injured, but thou art 
 injuring thyself, my child. — And show him with gentle tact 
 and by general principles that this is so, and that even bees 
 do not do as he does, nor any animals which are formed by 
 nature to be gregarious. And thou must do this neither 
 with any double meaning nor in the way of reproach, but 
 affectionately and without any rancour in thy soul; and not 
 as if thou wert lecturing him., nor yet that any bystander may 
 admire, but either when he is alone, and if others are present.^ 
 
 Remember these nine rules, as if thou hadst received them 
 as a gift from the Muses, and begin at last to be a man 
 v/hile thou livest. But thou must equally avoid flattering 
 men and being vexed at them, for both are unsocial and lead 
 to harm. And let this truth be present to thee in the excite- 
 ment of anger, that to be moved by passion is not manly, 
 but that mildness and gentleness, as they are more agreeable 
 io hum.an nature, so also are they more manly; and he who 
 possesses these qualities possesses strength, nerves and cour- 
 age, and not the man who is subject to fits of passion and 
 discontent. For in the same degree in which a man's mind 
 is nearer to freedom from all passion, in the same degree 
 also is it nearer to strength: and as the sense of pain is 
 a characteristic of weakness, so also is anger. For he who 
 yields to pain and he who yields to anger, both are wounded 
 and both submit. 
 
 But if thou wilt, receive also a tenth present from the 
 leader of the [Muses Apollo], and it is this— that to expect 
 bad men not to do wrong is m^adness, for he who expects this 
 desires an impossibility. But to allow men to behave so to 
 others, and to expect them not to do thee any wrong, is 
 irrational and tyrannical. 
 
 19. There are four principal aberrations of the superior 
 faculty against which thou shouldst be constantly on thy 
 guard, and when thou hast detected them, thou shouldst wipe 
 
 1 It appears that there is a defect in the text here. 
 
295 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS A^TRELIUS 
 
 them out and say on each occasion thus : this thought is not 
 necessary: this tends to destroy social union: this Wi^hich 
 thou art going to say comes not from the real thoughts ; for 
 thou shouldst consider it among the most absurd of things 
 for a man not to speak from his real thoughts. But the 
 fourth is when thou shalt reproach thyself for anything, for 
 this is an evidence of the diviner part within thee being 
 overpowered and yielding to the less honourable and to the 
 perishable part, the body, and to its gross pleasures (iv. 
 24; ii. 16). 
 
 20. Thy aerial part and all the fiery parts which are mingled 
 in thee, though by nature they have an upward tendency, 
 still in obedience to the disposition of the universe they are 
 overpowered here in the compound mass [the body]. And 
 also the whole of the earthly part in thee and the watery, 
 though their tendency is downwards, still are raised up and 
 occupy a position which is not their natural one. In this 
 manner then the elemental parts obey the universal, for when 
 they have been fixed in any place perforce they remain there 
 until again the universal shall sound the signal for dissolution. 
 Is it not then strange that thy intelligent part only should 
 be disobedient and discontented with its own place? And 
 yet no force is imposed on it, but only those things which 
 are conformable to its nature : still it does not submit, but is 
 carried in the opposite direction. For the movement towards 
 injustice and intemperance and to anger and grief and fear 
 is nothing else than the act of one who deviates from nature. 
 And also when the ruling faculty is discontented with any- 
 thing that happens, then too it deserts its post: for it is con- 
 stituted for piety and reverence toward the gods no less than 
 for justide. For these qualities also are comprehended 
 under the generic term of contentment with the constitution 
 of things, and indeed they are prior to acts of justice. 
 
 21. He who has not one and always the same object in 
 life, cannot be one and the same all through his life. But 
 what I have said is not enough, unless this also is added, 
 what this object ought to be. For as there is not the same 
 opinion about all the things which in some way or other 
 are considered by the majority to be good, but only about 
 some certain things, that is, things which concern the com- 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 297 
 
 mon interest; so also ought we to propose to ourselves an 
 object which shall be of a common kind [social] and political. 
 For he who directs all his own efforts to this object, will 
 make all his acts alike, and thus will always be the same. 
 
 22. Think of the country mouse and of the town mouse, 
 and of the alarm and trepidation of the town mouse. 
 
 23. Socrates used to call the opinions of the many by the 
 name of Lamiae, bugbears to frighten children. 
 
 24. The Lacedaemonians at their public spectacles used 
 to set seats in the shade for strangers, but themselves sat 
 down anywhere. 
 
 25. Socrates excused himself to Perdiccas for not going 
 to him, saying, It is because I would not perish by the worst 
 of all ends, that is, I would not receive a favour and then 
 be unable to return it. 
 
 26. In the writings of the [Ephesians] there was this 
 precept, constantly to think of some one of the men of for- 
 mer times who practiced virtue. 
 
 2"/. The Pythagoreans bid us in the morning look to the 
 heavens that we may be reminded of those bodies which con- 
 tinually do the same things and in the same manner perform 
 their work, and also be reminded of their purity and nudity. 
 For there is no veil over a star. 
 
 28. Consider what a man Socrates was when he dressed 
 himself in a skin, after Xanthippe had taken his cloak and 
 gone out, and v/hat Socrates said to his friends who were 
 ashamed of him and drew back from him when they saw 
 him dressed thus. 
 
 29. Neither in writing nor in reading wilt thou be able 
 to lay down rules for others before thou shalt have first 
 learned to obey rules thyself. Much more is this so in life. 
 
 30. A slave thou art: free speech is not for thee. 
 
 31. — And my heart laughed within (Od. ix. 413). 
 
 32. And virtue they will curse speaking harsh words 
 '^(Hesiod, "Works and Days," 184). 
 
 33. To look for the fig in winter is a madman's act: such 
 IS he who looks for his child when it is no longer allowed 
 (Epictetus, iii. 24, 87). 
 
 34. When a man kisses his child, said Epictetus, he should 
 whisper to himself, " To-morrow perchance thou wilt die." 
 
298 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 But those are words of bad omen. " No word is a word of 
 bad omen," said Epictetus, " which expresses any work of 
 nature; or if it is so, it is also a word of bad omen to speak 
 of the ears of corn being reaped" (Epictetus, iii. 24, 88). 
 
 35. The unripe grape, the ripe bunch, the dried grape all 
 are changes, not into nothing, but into something which 
 exists not yet (Epictetus, iii. 24). 
 
 36. No man can rob us of our free will (Epictetus, iii. 
 22, 105). _ 
 
 37. Epictetus also said, a man m.ust discover an art [or 
 rules] with respect to giving his assent; and in respect to 
 his movements he must be careful that they be made with 
 regard to circumstances, that they be consistent with social 
 interests, that they have regard to the value of the object; 
 and as to sensual desire, he should altogether keep away from 
 it; and as to avoidance [aversion] he should not show it with 
 respect to any of the things which are not in our power. 
 
 38. The dispute then, he said, is not about any comm.on 
 matter, but about being mad or not. 
 
 39. Socrates used to say, What do you want? Souls of 
 rational men or irrational? — Souls of rational men. — Of 
 what rational men? Sound or unsound? — Sound. — Why 
 then do you not seek for them? — Because we have them. — 
 VV'hy then do you fight and quarrel? 
 
 XII 
 
 LL those things at which thou v/ishest to arrive by a 
 circuitous road, thou canst have now, if thou dost 
 not refuse them to thyself. And this means, if thou 
 wilt take no notice of all the past, and trust the future to 
 providence, and direct the present only conformably to piety 
 and justice. Conformably to piety, that thou mayest be 
 content with the lot which is assigned to thee, for nature 
 designed it for thee and thee for it. Conformably to justice, 
 that thou mayest always speak the truth freely and without 
 disguise, and do the things which are agreeable to law and 
 according to the worth of each. And let neither another 
 man's y/ickedness hinder thee, nor opinion nor voice, nor 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 299 
 
 yet the sensations of the poor flesh which has grown about 
 thee; for the passive part will look to this. If then, what- 
 ever the time may be when thou shalt be near to thy de- 
 parture, neglecting everything else thou shalt respect only 
 thy ruling faculty and the divinity within thee, and if thou 
 shalt be afraid not because thou must some time cease to 
 live, but if thou shalt fear never to have begun to live 
 according to nature — then thou wilt be a man worthy of 
 the universe which has produced thee, and thou wilt cease 
 to be a stranger in thy native land, and to wonder at things 
 which happen daily as if they were something unexpected, 
 and to be dependent on this or that. 
 
 2. God sees the minds (ruling principles) of all men 
 bared of the material vesture and rind and impurities. For 
 w^ith his intellectual part alone he touches the intelligence 
 only which has flowed and been derived from himself into 
 these bodies. And if thou also usest thyself to do this, 
 thou wilt rid thyself of thy much trouble. For he who re- 
 gards not the poor flesh which envelops him, surely will not 
 trouble himself by looking after raiment and dwelling and 
 fame and such like externals and show. 
 
 3. The things are three of which thou art composed, a 
 little body, a little breath [life], intelligence. Of these the 
 first two are thine, so far as it is thy duty to take care of 
 them; but the third alone is properly thine. Therefore, if 
 thou shalt separate from thyself, that is, from thy under- 
 standing, whatever others do or say, and whatever thou 
 hast done or said thyself, and whatever future things trouble 
 thee because they may happen, and whatever in the body 
 which envelops thee, or in the breath [life], which is by 
 nature associated with the body, is attached to thee inde- 
 pendent of thy will, and whatever the exernal circumfluent 
 vortex whirls round, so that the intellectual power exempt 
 from the things of fate can live pure and free by itself, 
 doing what is just and accepting what happens and saying 
 the truth: if thou wilt separate, I say, from this ruling 
 faculty the things which are attached to it by the impres- 
 sions of sense, and the things of time to come and of time 
 that is past, and v/ilt make thyself like Empedocles' sphere, — 
 
 All round, and in its joyous rest reposing; 
 
300 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 and if thou shalt strive to live only what is really thy 
 life, that is, the present, then thou wilt be able to pass that 
 portion of life which remains for thee up to the time of 
 thy death, free from perturbations, nobly, and obedient to 
 thy own daemon [to the god that is within thee] (ii. 13, 17; 
 iii. 5, 6; xi. 12). 
 
 4. I have often wondered how it is that every man loves 
 himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less 
 value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion 
 of others. If then a god or a wise teacher should present 
 himself to a man and bid him to think of nothing and to 
 design nothing which he would not express as soon as he 
 conceived it, he could not endure it even for a single day. 
 So much more respect have we to what our neighbours shall 
 think of us than to what we shall think of ourselves. 
 
 5. How can it be that the gods, after having arranged 
 all things well and benevolently for mankind, have over- 
 looked this alone, that some men and very good men, and 
 men who, as we may say, have had most communion with 
 the divinity, and through pious acts and religious observ- 
 ances have been most intimate with the divinity, when they 
 have once died should never exist again, but should be 
 completely extinguished? 
 
 But if this is so, be assured that if it ought to have been 
 otherwise, the gods would have done it. For if it were just, 
 it would also be possible; and if it were according to 
 nature, nature would have had it so. But because it is 
 not so, if in fact it is not so, be thou convinced that it ought 
 not to have been so : — for thou seest even of thyself that in 
 this inquiry thou art disputing with the deity ; and we should 
 not thus dispute with the gods, unless they were most ex- 
 cellent and most just ; — but if this is so, they would not have 
 allowed anything in the ordering of the universe to be 
 neglected unjustly and irrationally. 
 
 6. Practise thyself even in the things which thou de- 
 spairest of accomplishing. For even the left hand, which 
 is ineffectual for all other things for want of practice, holds 
 the bridle more vigorously than the right hand; for it 
 has been practised in this. 
 
 7. Consider in wj^at condition, both in body and soul, a 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 301 
 
 man should be when he is overtaken by death ; and consider 
 the shortness of Hfe, the boundless abyss of time, past and 
 future, the feebleness of all matter. 
 
 8. Contemplate the formative principles [forms] of things 
 bare of their coverings; the purposes of actions; consider 
 what pain is, what pleasure is, and death, and fame; who 
 is to himself the cause of his uneasiness; how no man is 
 hindered by another ; that everything is opinion. 
 
 9. In the application of thy principles thou must be like 
 the pancratiast, not like the gladiator; for the gladiator 
 lets fall the sword which he uses and is killed; but the 
 other always has his hand, and needs to do nothing else 
 than use it. 
 
 10. See what things are in themselves, dividing them into 
 matter, form and purpose. 
 
 11. What a power man has to do nothing except what 
 God will approve, and to accept all that God may give him. 
 
 12. With respect to that which happens conformably to 
 nature, we ought to blame neither gods, for they do nothing 
 wrong either voluntarily or involuntarily, nor men, for they 
 do nothing wrong except involuntarily. Consequently we 
 should blame nobody (ii. 11, 12, 13; vii. 62; viii. 17). 
 
 13. How ridiculous and what a stranger he is who is 
 surprised at anything which happens in life. 
 
 14. Either there is a fatal necessity and invincible order, 
 or a kind providence, or a confusion without a purpose 
 and without a director (iv. 27). If then there is an in- 
 vincible necessity, why dost thou resist? But if there is a 
 providence which allows itself to be propitiated, make 
 thyself worthy of the help of the divinity. But if there 
 is a confusion without a governor, be content that in such 
 a tempest thou hast in thyself a certain ruling intelligence. 
 And even if the tempest carry thee away, let it carry away 
 the poor flesh, the poor breath, everything else; for the 
 intelligence at least it will not carry away. 
 
 15. Does the light of the lamp shine without losing its 
 Splendour until it is extinguished; and shall the truth which 
 is in thee and justice and temperance be extinguished [before 
 thy death] ? 
 
 16. When a man has presented the appearance of having 
 
302 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 done wrong, [say]. How then do I know i£ this is a wrong- 
 ful act? And even if he has done wrong, how do I know 
 that he has not condemned himself? and so this is like tear;? 
 ing his own face. Consider that he, who would not hav€ 
 the bad man do wrong, is like the man who would not Have 
 the fig tree to bear juice in the figs and infants to cry and 
 the horse to neigh, and whatever else must of necessity be. 
 For what must a man do who has such a character? If 
 then thou art irritable, cure this man's disposition, 
 
 17. If it is not right, do not do it: if it is not true, do 
 not say it. [For let thy efforts be.~ ]^ 
 
 18. In everything always observe what the thing is which 
 produces for thee an appearance, and resolve it by dividing 
 it into the formal, the material, the purpose, and the time 
 within which it must end. 
 
 19. Perceive at last that thou hast in thee something 
 better and more divine than the things which cause the 
 various effects, and as it were pull thee by the strings. 
 What is there now in my mind? is it fear, or suspicion, or 
 desire, or anything of the kind? (v. 11). 
 
 20. First, do nothing inconsiderately, nor without a pur- 
 pose. Second, make thy acts refer to nothing else than to 
 a social end. 
 
 21. Consider that before long thou wilt be nobody and 
 nowhere, nor will any of the things exist which thou now 
 seest, nor any of those who are now living. For all things 
 are formed by nature to change and be turned and to perish 
 in order that other things in continuous succession may 
 exist (ix. 28 )e 
 
 22. Consider that everything is opinion, and opinion is 
 in thy power. Take away then, when thou choosest, thy 
 opinion, and like a mariner, who has doubled the promontory, 
 thou wilt find calm, everything stable, and a waveless bay. 
 
 23. Any one activity, whatever it may be, when it has 
 ceased at its proper time, suffers no evil because it has 
 ceased; nor he who has done this act, does he suffer any 
 evil for this reason that the act has ceased. In like manner 
 then the whole which consists of all the acts, which is our 
 life, if it cease at its proper time, suffers no evil for this 
 
 ^There Is somethiag wrong here, or incomplete. 
 
THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS SaS 
 
 reason that it has ceased; nor he who has terminated this 
 series at the proper time, has he been ill dealt with. But 
 the proper time and the limit nature fixes, sometimes as in 
 old age the peculiar nature of man, but always the universal 
 nature, by the change of whose parts the whole universe 
 continues ever young and perfect. And everything which 
 is useful to the universal is always good and in season. 
 Therefore the term.ination of life for every man is no evil, 
 because neither is it shameful, since it is both independent 
 of the will and not opposed to the general interest, but it 
 is good, since it is seasonable and profitable to and con- 
 gruent with the universal. For thus too he is moved by 
 the deity who is moved in the same manner with the deity 
 and moved towards the same things in his mind. 
 
 24. These three principles thou must have in readiness. 
 In the things which thou doest do nothing either inconsid* 
 erately or otherv/ise than as justice herself w^ould act; but 
 with respect to what may happen to thee from without 
 consider that it happens either by chance or according to 
 providence, and thou must neither blame chance nor accuse 
 providence. Second, consider what every being is from the 
 seed to the time of its receiving a soul, and from the reception 
 of a soul to the giving back of the sam.e, and of what things 
 every being is compounded and into what things it is re- 
 solved. Third, if thou shouldst suddenly be raised up above 
 the earth, and shouldst look dov/n on human beings, and 
 observe the variety of them how great it is, and at the same 
 time also shouldst see at a glance how great is the number 
 of beings v/ho dwell all around in the air and the aether, 
 consider that as often as thou shouldst be raised up, thou 
 wouldst see the same things, sameness of form and shortness 
 of duration. Are these things to be proud of? 
 
 25. Cast away opinion : thou art saved. Who then hinders 
 thee from casting it away? 
 
 26. When thou art troubled about anything, thou hast 
 forgotten this, that all things happen according to the 
 universal nature; and forgotten this, that a man's wro-ngful 
 act is nothing to thee; and further thou hast forgotten this, 
 that everything v/hich happens, alvvrays happened so and will 
 happen so, and now happens so everywhere; forgotten this 
 
304 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 too, how close is the kinship between a man an(i the whole 
 human race, for it is a community, not of a little blood or 
 seed, but of intelligence. And thou hast forgotten this too, 
 that every man's intelligence is a god, and is an efflux of 
 the deity; and forgotten this, that nothing is a man's own, 
 but that his child and his body and his very soul came from 
 the deity; forgotten this, that everything is opinion; and 
 lastly thou hast forgotten that every man lives the present 
 time only, and loses only this. 
 
 27. Constantly bring to thy recollection those who have 
 complained greatly about anything, those who have been 
 most conspicuous by the greatest fame or misfortunes or 
 enmities or fortunes of any kind : then think where are they 
 all now? Smoke and ash and a tale, or not even a tale. 
 And let there be present to thy mind also everything of this 
 sort, how Fabius Catullinus lived in the country, and Lucius 
 Lupus in his gardens, and Stertinius at Baiae, and Tiberius 
 at Capreae, and Velius Rufus [or Rufus at Velia] ; and in 
 fine think of the eager pursuit of anything conjoined with 
 pride; and how worthless everything is after which men 
 violently strain; and how much more philosophical it is 
 for a man in the opportunities presented to him to show 
 himself just, temperate, obedient to the gods, and to do 
 this with all simplicity: for the pride which is proud of 
 its want of pride is the most intolerable of all. 
 
 28. To those who ask. Where hast thou seen the gods, 
 or how dost thou comprehend that they exist and so wor- 
 shipest them, I answer, in the first place, they may be seen 
 even with the eyes; in the second place neither have I 
 seen even my own soul and yet I honour it. Thus then with 
 respect to the gods, from what I constantly experience of 
 their power, from this I comprehend that they exist and I 
 venerate them. 
 
 29. The safety of life is this, to examine everything all 
 through, what it is itself, what is its material, what the 
 formal part; with all thy soul to do justice and to say the 
 truth. What remains except to enjoy life by joining one 
 good thing to another so as not to leave even the smallest 
 intervals between. 
 
 3O0 There is one light o£ the sun, though it is interrupted 
 
:THE meditations of MARCUS AURELIUS 305 
 
 by walls, mountains, and other things infinite. There is one 
 common substance, though it is distributed among countless 
 bodies which have their several qualities. There is one soul, 
 though it is distributed am^ong infinite natures and individual 
 circumscriptions [or individuals]. There is one intelligent 
 soul, though it seems to be divided. Now in the things 
 which have been mentioned all the other parts, such as those 
 which are air and matter, are without sensation and have no 
 fellowship : and yet even these parts the intelligent principle 
 holds together, and the gravitation towards the same. But 
 intellect in a peculiar manner tends to that which is of th^ 
 same kin, and combines with it, and the feeling for com* 
 munion is not interrupted. 
 
 31. What dost thou wish? to continue to exist? Well, 
 dost thou wish to have sensation? movement? growth? and 
 then again to cease to grow? to use thy speech? to think? 
 What is there of all these things which seem to thee worth 
 desiring? But if it is easy to set little value on all these 
 things, turn to that which remains, which is to follow reason 
 and god. But it is inconsistent with honouring reason and 
 god to be troubled because by death a m.an will be deprived 
 of the other things. 
 
 32. How small a part of the boundless and unfathomable 
 time is assigned to every man? for it is very soon swal- 
 lowed up in the eternal. And how small a part of the whole 
 substance? and how small a part of the universal soul? 
 and on what a small clod of the whole earth thou creepest? 
 Reflecting on all this consider nothing to be great, except 
 to act as thy nature leads thee, and to endure that which 
 the common nature brings. 
 
 33. How does the ruling faculty make use of itself? for 
 all lies in this. But everything else, whether it is in the 
 power of thy will or not, is only lifeless ashes and smoke. 
 
 34. This reflection is most adapted to move us to contempt 
 of death, that even those who think pleasure to be a good 
 and pain an evil still have despised it. 
 
 35. The man to whom that only is good which comes in 
 due season, and to whom it is the same thing whether he 
 has done more or fewer acts conformable to right reason, 
 and to whom it makes no difference whether he contemplates 
 
306 THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS 
 
 the world for a longer or a shorter time — for this man neither 
 is death a terrible thing (iii. 7; vi. 23; x. 20; xiL 23). 
 
 36. Man, thou hast been a citizen in this great state [the 
 world] : what difference does it make to thee whether for 
 five years [or three] ? for that which is conformable to the 
 laws is just for all. Where is the hardship then, if no tyrant 
 nor yet an unjust judge sends thee away from the state, but 
 nature who brought thee into it? the same as if a praetor 
 who has employed an actor dismisses him from the stage. 
 " But I have not finished the five acts, but only three of them," 
 —Thou sayest well, but in life the three acts are the whole 
 drama; for what shall be a complete drama is determined 
 by him who was once the cause of its composition, and now 
 of its dissolution : but thou art the cause of neither. Depart 
 then satisfied, for he also who releases thee is satisfied* 
 
BY GEORGE LONG, M, A. 
 
 ANTONINUS was born at Rome a.d. 121, on the 
 26th of April. His father Annius Verus died while 
 • he was praetor. His mother was Domitia Calvilla 
 also named Lucilla. The Emperor T. Antoninus Pius 
 married Annia Galeria Faustina, the sister of Annius Verus, 
 and was consequently the uncle of M. Antoninus. When 
 Hadrian adopted Antoninus Pius and declared him his suc- 
 cessor in the empire, Antoninus Pius adopted both L. Ceio- 
 nius Commodus, the son of Aelius Caesar, and M. Antoninus, 
 whose original name was M. Annius Verus. Antoninus 
 then took the name of M. Aelius Aurelius Verus to which 
 was added the title of Caesar in a.d, 139: the nam^e Aelius 
 belonged to Hadrian's family, and Aurelius was the name 
 of Antoninus Pius. When M. Antoninus became Augustus, 
 he dropped the name of Verus and took the name of Anto- 
 ninus. Accordingly he is generally named Mo Aurelius 
 Antoninus or simply M. Antoninus, 
 
 The youth was most carefully brought up. He thanks the 
 gods (i. 17) that he had good grandfathers, good parents, a 
 good sister, good teachers, good associates, good kinsmen 
 and friends, nearly everything good. He had the happy 
 fortune to witness the exam^ple of his uncle and adoptive 
 father Antoninus Pius, ?nd he has recorded in his v/ork (i. 
 16; VI. 30) the virtues of this excellent man and prudent 
 ruler» Like m.any young Romans he tried his hand at poetry 
 and studied rhetoric. Herodes Atticus and M. Cornelius 
 Fronto were his teachers in eloquence. There are extant 
 letters between Fronto and Marcus,^ which show the great 
 affection of the pupil for the master, and the master's great 
 
 ^M. Cornelii Frontonis Reliquiae, Berlin, 1816. There are a few letters 
 between Fronto and Antoninus Pius. 
 
 307 
 
308 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 hopes of his industrious pupil. M. Antoninus mentions 
 Fronto (i. ii) among those to whom he was indebted for 
 his education. 
 
 When he was eleven years old, he assumed the dress of 
 philosophers, something plain and coarse, became a hard 
 student, and lived a most laborious abstemious life, even so 
 far as to injure his health. Finally, he abandoned poetry 
 and rhetoric for philosophy, and he attached himself to the 
 sect of the Stoics. But he did not neglect the study of law, 
 which was a useful preparation for the high place which he 
 was designed to fill. His teacher was L. Volusianus Mae- 
 cianus a distinguished jurist. We must suppose that he 
 learned the Roman discipline of arms, which was a necessary 
 part of the education of a man who afterwards led his troops 
 to battle against a warlike race. 
 
 Antoninus has recorded in his first book the names of his 
 teachers and the obligations which he owed to each of them. 
 The way in which he speaks of what he learned from them 
 might seem to savour of vanity or self-praise, if we look 
 carelessly at the way in which he has expressed himself; but 
 if any one draws this conclusion, he will be mistaken. Anto- 
 ninus means to commemorate the merits of his several 
 teachers, what they taught and what a pupil might learn 
 from them. Besides, this book like the eleven other books 
 was for his own use, and if we may trust the note at the end 
 of the first book, it was written during one of M. Antoninus' 
 campaigns against the Quadi, at a time when the commemo- 
 ration of the virtues of his illustrious teachers might remind 
 him of their lessons and the practical uses which he might 
 derive from them. 
 
 Among his teachers of philosophy was Sextus of Chae- 
 roneia a grandson of Plutarch. What he learned from this 
 excellent man is told by himself (i. 9). His favourite 
 teacher was Q. Junius Rusticus (i. 7), a philosopher and also 
 a man of practical good sense in public affairs. Rusticus 
 was the adviser of Antoninus after he became emperor. 
 Young men who are destined for high places are not often 
 fortunate in those who are about them, their companions and 
 teachers; and I do not know any example of a young prince 
 "having had an education which can be compared with that 
 
M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 309 
 
 of M. Antoninus. Such a body of teachers distinguished by 
 their acquirements and their character will hardly be col- 
 lected again; and as to the pupil, we have not had one like 
 him since. 
 
 Hadrian died in July a.d, 138, and was succeeded by Anto- 
 ninus Pius. M. Antoninus married Faustina, his cousin, 
 the daughter of Pius, probably about a.d. 146, for he had a 
 daughter born in 147. He received from his adoptive 
 father the title of Caesar and was associated with him in the 
 administration of the state. The father and the adopted 
 son lived together in perfect friendship and confidence. 
 Antoninus was a dutiful son, and the emperor Pius loved 
 and esteemed him. 
 
 Antoninus Pius died in March a.d. 161. The Senate, it is 
 said, urged M'. Antoninus to take the sole administration of 
 the empire, but he associated with himself the other adopted 
 son of Pius, L. Ceionius Commodus, who is generally called 
 L. Verus. Thus Rome for the first time had two emperors. 
 Verus was an indolent man of pleasure and unworthy of his 
 station. Antoninus however bore with him, and it is said 
 that Verus had sense enough to pay to his colleague the re- 
 spect due to his character. A virtuous emperor and a loose 
 partner lived together in peace, and their alliance was 
 strengthened by Antoninus giving to Verus for wife his 
 daughter Lucilla. 
 
 The reign of Antoninus was first troubled by a Parthian 
 war, in which Verus was sent to command, but he did noth- 
 ing, and the success that was obtained by the Romans in 
 Armenia and on the Euphrates and Tigris was due to his 
 generals. This Parthian war ended in a.d. 165. Aurelius 
 and Verus had a triumph (a.d. 166) for the victories in 
 the east. A pestilence followed which carried off great 
 numbers in Rome and Italy, and spread to the west of 
 Europe. 
 
 The north of Italy was also threatened by the rude people 
 beyond the Alps from the borders of Gallia to the eastern 
 side of the Hadriatic. These barbarians attempted to break 
 into Italy, as the Germanic nations had attempted near three 
 hundred years before; and the rest of the life of Antoninus 
 Svith some intervals was employed in driving feack the m^ 
 
310 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 vaders. In 169 Verus suddenly died, and Antoninus ad- 
 ministered the state alone. 
 
 During the German wars Antoninus resided for three 
 years on the Danube at Carnuntum. The Marcomanni were 
 driven out of Pannonia and almost destroyed in their retreat 
 across the Danube; and in a.d. 174 the emperor gained a 
 great victory over the Quadi. 
 
 In A.D. 175 Avidius Cassius a brave and skilful Roman 
 commander who was at the head of the troops in Asia re- 
 volted and declared himself Augustus. But Cassius was 
 assassinated by some of his officers, and so the rebellion 
 came to an end. Antoninus showed his humanity by his 
 treatment of the family and the partisans of Cassius, and 
 his letter to the senate in which he recommends mercy is 
 extant. (Vulcatius, Avidius Cassius, c. 12.) 
 
 Antoninus set out for the east on hearing of Cassius* re- 
 volt Though he appears to have returned to Rome in a.d. 
 174, he went back to prosecute the war against the Germans, 
 and it is probable that he marched direct to the east from 
 the German war. His wife Faustina who accompanied him 
 into Asia died suddenly at the foot of the Taurus to the 
 great grief of her husband. Capitolinus, who has written 
 the life of Antoninus, and also Dion Cassius accuse the 
 empress of scandalous infidelity to her husband and of 
 abominable lewdness. But Capitolinus says that Antoninus 
 either knew it not or pretended not to know it. Nothing is 
 so comm.on as such malicious reports in all ages, and the 
 history of imperial Rome is full of them. Antoninus loved 
 his wife and he says that she was "obedient, affectionate 
 and simple." The same scandal had been spread about 
 Faustina's mother, the wife of Antoninus Pius, and yet he 
 too was perfectly satisfied with his wife. Antoninus Pius 
 says after her death in a letter to Fronto that he would 
 rather have lived in exile with his wife than in his palace 
 at Rome without her. There are not many men who would 
 give their wives a better character than these two emperors, 
 Capitolinus wrote in the time of Diocletian. He may have 
 intended to tell the truth, but he is a poor feeble biographer. 
 Dion Cassius, the most malignant of historians, always re- 
 ports and perhaps he believed any scandal against anybody. 
 
M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 311 
 
 Antoninus continued his journey to Syria and Egypt, and 
 on his return to Italy through Athens he was initiated into 
 the Eleusinian mysteries. It was the practice of the emperor 
 to conform to the established rites of the age and to perform 
 religious ceremonies with due solemnity. We cannot con- 
 clude from this that he was a superstitious m.an, though we 
 might perhaps do so, if his book did not show that he was 
 not. But this is only one among many instances that a 
 ruler's public acts do not always prove his real opinions. A 
 prudent governor will not roughly oppose even the super- 
 stitions of his people, and though he may wish that they were 
 wiser, he will know that he cannot make them so by offend- 
 ing their prejudices. 
 
 Antoninus and his son Commodus entered Rome in tri- 
 umph, perhaps for some German victories, on the 23rd of 
 Decem^ber a.d. 176. In the following year Commodus was 
 associated with his father in the empire and took the name 
 of Augustus. This year a.d. 177 is memorable in ecclesias- 
 tical history. Attains and others were put to death at Lyon 
 for their adherence to the Christian religion. The evidence 
 of this persecution is a letter preserved by Eusebius (E. H. 
 v. I ; printed in Routh^s "Reliquiae Sacrae,*' vol. I. with 
 notes). The letter is from the Christians of Vienna and 
 Lugdunum in Gallia (Vienne and Lyon) to their Christian 
 brethren in Asia and Phrygia; and it is preserved perhaps 
 nearly entire. It contains a very particular description of 
 the tortures inflicted on the Christians in Gallia, and it states 
 that while the persecution was going on, Attains a Christian 
 and a Roman citizen was loudly demanded by the populace 
 and brought into the amphitheatre, but the governor ordered 
 him to be reserved with the rest who were in prison, until he 
 had received instructions from the emperor. Many had been 
 tortured before the governor thought of applying to Anto- 
 ninus. The imperial rescript, says the letter, was that the 
 Christians should be punished, but if they would deny their 
 faith, they m.ust be released. On this the work began again. 
 The Christians who were Roman citizens were beheaded: 
 the rest were exposed to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre. 
 Some modern writers on ecclesiastical history, when they 
 use this letter, say nothing of the wonderful stories of the 
 
312 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 martyrs* sufiFerings. Sancttis, as the letter says, was burnt 
 with plates of hot iron till his body was one sore and had 
 lost all human form, but on being put to the rack he re- 
 covered his former appearance under the torture, which was 
 thus a cure instead of a punishment. He was afterwards 
 torn by beasts, and placed on an iron chair and roasted. He 
 died at last. 
 
 The letter is one piece of evidence. The writer, whoever 
 he was that wrote in the name of the Gallic Christians, is 
 our evidence both for the ordinary and the extraordinary 
 circumstances of the story, and we cannot accept his evi- 
 dence for one part and reject the other. We often receive 
 small evidence as a proof of a thing which we believe to be 
 within the limits of probability or possibility, and we reject 
 exactly the same evidence, when the thing to which it re- 
 fers, appears very improbable or impossible. But this is a 
 false method of inquiry, though it is followed by some 
 modern writers, who select what they like from a story and 
 reject the rest of the evidence; or if they do not reject it, 
 they dishonestly suppress it. A man can only act con- 
 sistently by accepting all this letter or rejecting it all, and 
 we cannot blame him for either. But he who rejects it may 
 still admit that such a letter may be founded on real facts; 
 and he would *make this admission as the most probable way 
 of accounting for the existence of the letter: but if, as he 
 would suppose, the writer has stated some things falsely, he 
 cannot tell what part of his story is worthy of credit. 
 
 The war on the northern frontier appears to have been 
 uninterrupted during the visit of Antoninus to the East, and 
 on his return the emperor again left Rome to oppose the 
 barbarians. The Germanic people were defeated in a 
 great battle a.d. 179. During this campaign the emperor 
 was seized with some contagious malady, of which he died 
 in the camp at Sirmium (Mitrovitz) on the Save in Lower 
 Pannonia, but at Vindobona (Vienna) according to other 
 authorities, on the 17th March a.d. 180, in the fifty-ninth 
 year of his age. His son Commodus was with him. The 
 body or the ashes probably of the emperor were carried to 
 Rome, and he received the honour of deification. Those 
 ^vho could afford it had his statue or bust, and when Capito- 
 
M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS isij 
 
 lijius wrote, many people still had statues of !Sntoninus 
 among the Dei Penates or household deities. He was in a 
 manner made a saint. Commodus erected to the memory of 
 his father the Antonine column which is now in the Piazza 
 Colonna at Rome. The bas-reliefs which are placed in a 
 spiral line round the shaft commemorate the victories of 
 Antoninus over the Marcomanni and the Quadi, and the 
 miraculous shower of rain which refreshed the Roman 
 soldiers and discomfited their enemies. The statue of Anto- 
 ninus was placed on the capital of the column, but it was 
 removed at some time unknown, and a bronze statue of St. 
 Paul was put in the place by Pope Sixtus the fifth. 
 
 The historical evidence for the times of Antoninus is very 
 defective, and some of that which remains is not credible The 
 most curious is the story about the miracle which happened 
 in A.D. 174 during the war with the Quadi. The Roman army 
 was in danger of perishing by thirst, but a sudden storei 
 drenched them with rain, while it discharged fire and hail 
 on their enemies, and the Romans gained a great victory. 
 All the authorities which speak of the battle speak also of 
 the miracle. The Gentile writers assign it to their gods, and 
 the Christians to the intercession of the Christian legion in 
 the emperor's army. To confirm the Christian statement it 
 is added that the emperor gave the title of Thundering to 
 this legion; but Dacier and others who maintain the Chris- 
 tian report of the miracle, admit that this title of Thunder- 
 ing or Lightnmg was not given to this legion because the 
 Quadi were struck with lightning, but because there was a 
 figure of lightning on their shields, and that this title of the 
 legion existed in the time of Augustus. 
 
 Scaliger also had observed that the legion was called 
 Thundering {y.epao\>o^6Xo<Sj or xe^auwo^o^o?) before the reign of 
 Antoninus. We learn this from Dion Cassius (Lib. 55, c. 23, 
 "and the note ot Reimarus) who enumerates all the legions of 
 Augustus' time. The name Thundering or Lightning also 
 occurs on an inscription of the reign of Trajan, which was 
 found at Trieste. Eusebius (v. 5) when he relates the 
 miracle, quotes Apolinarius, bishop of Hierapolis, as 
 authority for this name being given to the legion Melitene 
 by the emperor in consequence of the success which he QJbr- 
 
314 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 tained through their prayers; from which we may estimate 
 the value of Apolinarius' testimony. Eusebius does not say 
 in what book of Apolinarius the statement occurs. Dion 
 says that the Thundering legion was stationed in Cappadocia 
 in the time of Augustus. Valesius also observes that in the 
 Notitia of the Imperium Romanum there is mentioned under 
 the commander of Armenia the Praefectura of the twelfth 
 legion named "Thundering Melitene;" and this position in 
 Armenia will agree with what Dion says of its position in 
 Cappadocia. Accordingly Valesius concludes that Melitene 
 was not the name of the legion, but of the town in which 
 it was stationed. Melitene was also the name of the dis- 
 trict in which this town was situated. The legions did not, 
 he says, take their name from the place where they were on 
 duty, but from the country in which they^ were raised, and 
 therefore, what Eusebius says about the Melitene does not 
 seem probable to him. Yet Valesius on the authority of 
 Apolinarius and Tertullian believed that the miracle was 
 worked through the prayers of the Christian soldiers in the 
 emperor's army. Rufinus does not give the name of Meli- 
 tene to this legion, says Valesius, and probably he purposely 
 omitted it, because he knew that Melitene was the namxC of 
 a town in Armenia Minor, where the legion was stationed 
 in his time. 
 
 The emperor, it is said, made a report of his victory to 
 the Senate, which we may believe, for such was the practice ; 
 but we do not know what he said in his letter, for it is not 
 extant. Dacier assumes that the emperor's letter was pur- 
 posely destroyed by the Senate or the enemies of Chris- 
 tianity, that so honourable a testimony to the Christians and 
 their religion might not be perpetuated. The critic has how- 
 ever not seen that he contradicts himself when he tells us 
 the purport of the letter, for he says that it was destroyed, 
 and even Eusebius could not find it. But there does exist 
 a letter in Greek addressed by Antoninus to the Roman 
 people and the sacred Senate after this memorable victory. 
 It is sometimes printed after Justin's first Apology, but rt 
 is totally unconnected with the apologies. This letter is one 
 of the most stupid forgeries of the many which exist, and 
 it cannot be possibly founded even on the genuine report of 
 
M. AURELIXJS ANTONINUS 315 
 
 Antoninus to the Senate. If it were genuine, it would free 
 the emperor from the charge of persecuting men because 
 they were Christians, for he says in this false letter that if 
 a man accuse another only of being a Christian and the ac- 
 cused confess and there is nothing else against him, he must 
 be set free; with this monstrous addition, made by a man 
 inconceivably ignorant, that the informer must be burnt 
 alive. 
 
 During the time of Antoninus Pius and Marcus Anto- 
 ninus there appeared the first Apology of Justinus, and undec 
 M. Antoninus the Oration of Tatian against the Greeks, 
 which was a fierce attack on the established religions; the 
 address of Athenagoras to M. Antoninus on behalf of the 
 Christians, and the Apology of Melito, bishop of Sardes, 
 also addressed to the emperor, and that of Apolinarius. The 
 first Apology of Justinus is addressed to T. Antoninus Pius 
 and his two adopted sons M. Antoninus and L. Verus; but 
 we do not know whether they read it.^ The second 
 Apology of Justinus is intitled "to the Roman Senate;" but 
 this superscription is from some copyist. In the first chap- 
 ter Justinus addresses the Romans. In the second chapter he 
 speaks of an affair that had recently happened in the time of 
 M. Antoninus and L. Verus, as it seems ; and he also directly 
 addresses the emperor, saying of a certain woman, "she ad- 
 dressed a petition to thee the emperor, and thou didst grant 
 the petition." In other passages the writer addresses the 
 two emperors, from which we must conclude that the Apol- 
 ogy was directed to them. Eusebius (E. H. iv. i8) states 
 that the second Apology was addressed to the successor of 
 Antoninus Pius, and he names him Antoninus Verus, mean- 
 ing M". Antoninus. In one passage of this second Apology 
 (c. 8), Justinus, or the writer, whoever he m.ay be, says that 
 even men who followed the Stoic doctrines, when they 
 ordered their lives according to ethical reason, were hated 
 and murdered, such as Heraclitus, Musonius in his own 
 times, and others ; for all those who in any way laboured to 
 live according to reason and avoided wickedness were always 
 hated ; and this was the effect of the work of daemons. 
 
 2 Orosius, VII. 14, says that Justinus the philosopher presented to An- 
 toninus Pius his work in defence of the Christian Religion, and made him 
 tnerciful to the Christians. 
 
316 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 Justinus himself is said to have been put to death at Rome, 
 because he refused to sacrifice to the gods. It cannot have 
 been in the reign of Hadrian, as one authority states; nor 
 in the time of Antoninus Pius, if the second Apology was 
 v/ritten in the time of M. Antoninus; and there is evidence 
 that this event took place under M. Antoninus and L. Verus, 
 when Rusticus was praefect of the city. 
 
 The persecution in which Polycarp suffered at Smyrna 
 belongs to the time of M. Antoninus. The evidence for it 
 is the letter of the church of Smyrna to the churches of 
 Philomelium and the other Christian churches, and it is pre- 
 served by Eusebius (E. H. iv. 15). But the critics do not 
 agree about the time of Polycarp's death, differing in the two 
 extremes to the amount of twelve years. The circumstances 
 of Polycarp's martyrdom were accompanied by miracles, one 
 of which Eusebius (iv. 15) has omitted, but it appears in 
 the oldest Latin version of the letter, which Usher published, 
 and it is supposed that this version was made not long after 
 the time of Eusebius. The notice at the end of the letter 
 states that it was transcribed by Caius from the copy of 
 Irenaeus, the disciple of Polycarp, then transcribed by 
 Socrates at Corinth; "after which I Pionius again wrote it 
 out from the copy above mentioned, having searched it out 
 by the revelation of Polycarp, who directed me to it, etc." 
 The story of Polycarp's martyrdom is embellished with 
 miraculous circumstances which some modern writers on 
 ecclesiastical history take the liberty of omitting.^ 
 
 In order to form a proper notion of the condition of the 
 Christians under M. Antoninus we must go back to Trajan's 
 time. When the younger Pliny was governor of Bithynia, 
 the Christians were numerous in those parts, and the wor- 
 shippers of the old religion were falling off. The temples 
 were deserted, the festivals neglected, and there were no 
 purchasers of victims for sacrifice. Those who were inter- 
 ested in the maintenance of the old religion thus found that 
 
 8 Conyers Middleton, "An Inquiry into the Miraculous Powers," etc., p. 
 126. Middleton says that Eusebius omitted to mention the dove, which flew 
 out of Polycarp's body, and Dodwell and Archbishop Wake have done the 
 same. Wake says "I am so little a friend to such miracles that I thought 
 it better with Eusebius to omit that circumstance than to mention it from 
 Bp. Usher's Manuscript," which manuscript, however, says Middleton, he 
 afterwards declares to be so well attested that we need not any further 
 assurance of the truth of it. 
 
M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 317 
 
 their profits were in danger. Christians of both sexes and 
 of all ages were brought before the governor, who did not 
 know what to do with them. He could come to no other 
 conclusion than this, that those who confessed to be Chris- 
 tians and persevered in their religion ought to be punished; 
 if for nothing else, for their invincible obstinacy. He found 
 no crimes proved against the Christians, and he could only 
 characterize their religion as a depraved and extravagant 
 superstition, which might be stopped, if the people were 
 allowed the opportunity of recanting. Pliny wrote this in 
 a letter to Trajan (Plinius, Ep. x. 97). He asked for the 
 emperor's directions, because he did not know what to do: 
 He remarks that he had never been engaged in judicial in- 
 quiries about the Christians, and that accordingly he did not 
 know what to inquire about or how far to inquire and punish. 
 This proves that it was not a new thing to examine into a 
 man's profession of Christianity and to punish him for it. 
 Trajan's Rescript is extant. He approved of the governor's 
 judgment in the matter ; but he said that no search must be 
 made after the Christians; if a man was charged with the 
 new religion and convicted, he must not be punished if he 
 affirmed that he was not a Christian and confirmed his denial 
 by showing his reverence to the heathen gods. He added 
 that no notice must be taken of anonymous informations, 
 for such things were of bad example. Trajan was a mild 
 and sensible man, and both motives of mercy and policy 
 probably also induced him to take as little notice of the 
 Christians as he could; to let them live in quiet, if it were 
 possible. Trajan's Rescript is the first legislative act of the 
 head of the Roman state with reference to Christianity 
 which is known to us. It does not appear that the Chris- 
 tians were further disturbed under his reign. The martyr- 
 dom of Ignatius by the order of Trajan himself is not uni- 
 versally admxitted to be an historical fact.* 
 
 In the time of Hadrian it was no longer possible for the 
 Roman government to overlook the great increase of the 
 Christians and the hostility of the common sort to them. 
 If the governors in the provinces were willing to let them 
 
 ■* The Martyrium Ignatii, first published in Latin by Archbishop Usher, 
 is the chief evidence for the circumstances of Ignatius' death. 
 
318 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 alone, they could not resist the fanaticism of the heathen 
 community, who looked on the Christians as atheists. The 
 Jews, too, who were settled all over the Roman Empire, v/ere 
 as hostile to the Christians as the Gentiles were.^ With the 
 time of Hadrian begin the Christian Apologies, which show 
 ' plainly what the popular feeling towards the Christians then 
 was, A rescript of Hadrian to Minucius Fundanus, the 
 Proconsul of Asia, which stands at the end of Justin's first 
 Apology," instructs the governor that innocent people must 
 not be troubled, and false accusers must not be allowed to 
 extort money from them; the charges against the Christians 
 must be made in due form, and no attention must be paid to 
 popular clamours ; when Christians v/ere regularly prosecuted 
 and convicted of illegal acts, they must be punished accord- 
 ing to their deserts ; and false accusers also must be punished. 
 ■Antoninus Pius is said to have published Rescripts to the 
 same effect. The terms of Hadrian's Rescript seem very 
 favourable to the Christians ; but if we understand it in this 
 sense, that they were only to be punished like other people 
 'for illegal acts, it would have had no meaning, for that 
 could have been done without asking the emperor's advice. 
 The real purpose of the Rescript is that Christians must be 
 punished if they persisted in their belief, and would not 
 prove their renunciation of it by acknowledging the heathen 
 religion. This was Trajan's rule, and we have no reason 
 for supposing that Hadrian granted more to the Christians 
 than Trajan did. There is also printed at the end of Jus- 
 tin's first Apology a Rescript of Antoninus Pius to the Com- 
 mune of Asia (to xoivov T^g 'Aijiag), and it is also in Eusebius 
 |(E. H. IV. 13). The date of the Rescript is the third con- 
 isulship of Antoninus Pius. The Rescript declares that the 
 Christians, for they are meant, though the name Christians 
 
 ^We have the evidence of Justinus (ad Diognetum, c. 5) to this effect: 
 ''the Christians are attacked by the Jews as if they were men of a different 
 race, and are persecuted by the Greeks; and those who hate them caxmot 
 give the reason of their enmity." 
 
 ^ And in Eusebius, E. H. iv. 8, 9. Orosius (vii. 13) says that Hadrian 
 sent the rescript to Minucius Fundanus, proconsul of Asia, after being in- 
 structed in bocks written on the Christian religion by Quadratus, a disciple 
 of the Apostles, and Aristides, an Athenian, an honest and wise man, and 
 Serenus Granius. In the Greek text of Hadrian's rescript there is men- 
 tioned Serenius Granianus, the predecessor of Minucius Fundanus in the 
 government of Asia. 
 
 This rescript of Hadrian has clearly been added to the Apology hy some 
 editor. The Apology ends v/ith the words: o <|>iAoi' tw eew, toSto •yes'effSw. 
 
M. AUREEIUS ANTONINUS 319 
 
 does not occur in the Rescript, were not to be disturbed un- 
 less they were attempting something against the Roman rule, 
 and no man was to be punished simply for being a Christian. 
 But this Rescript is spurious. Any man moderately ac- 
 quainted with Roman history will see by the style and tenor 
 that it is a clumsy forgery. 
 
 In the time of M. Antoninus the opposition between the 
 old and tlie new belief was still stronger, and the adherents 
 of the heathen religion urged those in authority to a more 
 regular resistance to the invasions of the Christian faith. 
 Melito in his apology to M. Antoninus represents the Chris- 
 tians of Asia as persecuted under new imperial orders. 
 Shameless informers, he says, men v/ho were greedy after 
 the property of others, used these orders as a means of rob- 
 bing those who were doing no harm. He doubts if a just 
 emperor could have ordered anything so unjust; and if the 
 last order was really not from the emperor, the Christians 
 entreat him not to give them up to their enemies. We con- 
 clude from this that there were at least imperial Rescripts 
 or Constitutions of M. Antoninus, which were made the 
 foundation of these persecutions. The fact of being a Chris- 
 tian was now a crime and punished, unless the accused denied 
 their religion. Then come the persecutions at Smyrna, 
 which some modern critics place in a.d. 167, ten years before 
 the persecution of Lyon. The governors of the provinces 
 under M. Antoninus might have found enough even in 
 Trajan's Rescript to warrant them in punishing Christians, 
 and the fanaticism of the people would drive them to perse- 
 cution, even if they were unwilling. But besides the fact 
 of the Christians rejecting all the heathen ceremonies, we 
 must not forget that they plainly maintained that all the 
 heathen religions were false. The Christians thus declared 
 war against the heathen rites, and it is hardly necessary to 
 observe that this was a declaration of hostility against the 
 Roman government, which tolerated all the various forms 
 of superstition that existed in the empire, and could not con- 
 sistently tolerate another religion, which declared that all the 
 rest were false and all the splendid ceremonies of the empire 
 only a worship of devils. 
 
 If we had a true ecclesiastical history, we should know 
 
320 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 how the Roman emperors attempted to check the new re- 
 ligion, how they enforced their principle of finally punish- 
 ing Christians, simply as Christians, which Justin in his 
 Apology affirms that they did, and I have no doubt that he 
 tells the truth; how far popular clamour and riots went in 
 this matter, and how far many fanatical and ignorant Chris- 
 tians, for there were many such, contributed to excite the 
 fanaticism on the other side and to embitter the quarrel be- 
 tween the Roman government and the new religion. Our ex- 
 tant ecclesiastical histories are manifestly falsified, and Vv^hat 
 truth they contain is grossly exaggerated; but the fact is 
 certain that in the time of M. Antoninus the heathen popu- 
 lations were m open hostility to the Christians, and that 
 under Antoninus' rule men were put to death because they 
 were Christians. Eusebius in the preface to his fifth book 
 remarks that in the seventeenth year of Antoninus* reign, in 
 some parts of the world the persecution of the Christians 
 became more violent and that it proceeded from the populace 
 in the cities; and he adds in his usual style of exaggeration, 
 that we may infer from what took place in a single nation 
 that myriads of martyrs were made in the habitable earth. 
 The nation which he alludes to is Gallia; and he then pro- 
 ceeds to give the letter of the churches of Vienna and Lug- 
 dunum. It is probable that he has assigned the true cause 
 of the persecutions, the fanaticism of the populace, and that 
 both governors and emperor had a great deal of trouble with 
 these disturbances. How far Marcus was cognizant of these 
 cruel proceedings we do not know, for the historical records 
 of his reign are very defective. He did not make the rule 
 against the Christians, for Trajan did that; and if we admit 
 that he would have been willing to let the Christians alone, 
 we cannot affirm that it was in his power, for it would be a 
 great mistake to suppose that Antoninus had the unlimited 
 authority, which some modern sovereigns have had. His 
 power was limited by certain constitutional forms, by the 
 senate, and by the precedents of his predecessors. We can- 
 not admit that such a man was an active persecutor,^ for 
 
 '' Except that of Oroslus (vii. 15), wlio says that during the Parthian 
 war there were grievous persecutions of the Christians in Asia and Gallia 
 under the orders of Marcus Cpraecepto ejus), and "many were crowneii 
 with the martyrdom of saints." 
 
M, AUREXIUS ANTONINUS 321 
 
 there is no evidence that he was, though it is certain that 
 he had no good opinion of the Christians, as appears from 
 his own words. But he knew nothing of them except their 
 hostihty to the Rom.an religion, and he probably thought that 
 they were dangerous to the state, notwithstanding the pro- 
 fessions false or true of some of the Apologists. So much 
 I have said, because it would be unfair not to state all that 
 can be urged against a man whom his contemporaries and 
 subsequent ages venerated as a model of virtue and benevo- 
 lence. If I admitted the genuineness of some documents, he 
 would be altogether clear from the charge of even allowing 
 any persecutions; but as I seek the truth and am sure that 
 they are false, 'I leave him to bear whatever blame is his 
 due.* I add that it is quite certain that Antoninus did not 
 derive any of his Ethical principles from a religion of which 
 he knew nothing.^ 
 
 There is no doubt that, the Emperor's "Reflections" or his 
 "Meditations," as they are generally named, is a genuine 
 work. In the first book he speaks of himself, his family, and 
 his teachers ; and in other books he mentions himself. Suidas 
 (v. i/a^xo?), notices a work of Antoninus in twelve books, 
 which he names the "conduct of his own life;" and he cites 
 the book under several words in his Dictionary, giving the 
 emperor's name, but not the title of the work. There are 
 also passages cited by Suidas from Antoninus without men- 
 tion of the emperor's name. The true title of the work is 
 unknown. Xy lander who published the first edition of this 
 book (Ziirich, 1558, 8vo.) with a Latin version, used a 
 manuscript, which contained the twelve books, but it is not 
 known where the manuscript is now. The only other com- 
 plete manuscript which is known to exist is in the Vatican 
 library, but it has no title and no inscriptions of the several 
 books: the eleventh only has the inscription Mdpxoo auroxpd- 
 ropo<s marked with an asterisk The other Vatican manu- 
 scripts and the three Florentine contain only excerpts from 
 
 ^ Dr, F. C. Baur in his work entitled "Das Christenthum und die 
 Christliche Kirche der drei ersten Jahrhunderte," etc., has examined this 
 question with great good sense and fairness, and I believe he has stated 
 ^he truth as near as our authorities enable us to reach it. 
 
 * In the Digest, 48, 19, 30, there is the following excerpt from Modesti- 
 nus: "Si quis aiiquid fecerit, quo leves hominum animi superstitione numi- 
 nis terrerentur, divus Marcus hujusmodi homines ia insulam relegari 
 tescripsit." 
 
 11 HC— Vol. 2 
 
322 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 the emperor's book. AH the titles of the excerpts nearly 
 agree with that which Xylander prefixed to his edition Mdpxo9 
 ^Avt(jDv(voo AuToxpdropo? raiv ei? iaozov ^i^X(a tjS. This title 
 has been used by all subsequent editors. We cannot tell 
 whether Antoninus divided his work into books or some- 
 body else did it. If the inscriptions at the end of the 
 first and second books are genuine, he may have made the 
 division himself. 
 
 It is plain that the emperor wrote down his thoughts or 
 reflections as the occasions arose; and since they were in- 
 tended for his o~wn use, it is no improbable conjecture that 
 he left a complete copy behind him written with his own 
 hand ; for it is not likely that so diligent a man would use the 
 labour of a transcriber for such a purpose, and expose his 
 most secret thoughts to any other eye. He may have also 
 intended the book for his son Commodus, who however had 
 no taste for his father's philosophy. Some careful hand 
 preserved the precious volume; and a work by Antoninus 
 is mentioned by other late writers besides Suidas. 
 
 Many critics have laboured on the text of Antoninus. 
 The most complete edition is that by Thomas Gataker, 1652, 
 4to. The second edition of Gataker was superintended by 
 George Stanhope, 1697, 4to. There is also an edition of 
 1704. Gataker made and suggested many good corrections, 
 and he also made a new Latin version, which is not a very 
 good specimen of Latin, but it generally expresses the sense 
 of the original and often better than some-of the more recent 
 translations. He added in the margin opposite to each para- 
 graph references to the other parallel passages ; and he wrote 
 a commentary, one of the most com.plete that has been writ- 
 ten on any ancient author. This commentary contains the 
 editor's exposition of the m.ore difficult passages, and quo- 
 tations from, all the Greek and Roman writers for the illus- 
 tration of the text. It is a wonderful monument of learning 
 and labour, and certainly no Englishman has yet done any- 
 thing like it. At the end of his preface the editor says that 
 he wrote it at Rotherhithe near London in a severe winter, 
 when he was in the seventy-eighth year of his age, 1651, a 
 time when Milton, Selden and other great men of the Com- 
 fnonwealth time were living; and the great French scholar 
 
M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 323 
 
 Saumaise (Salmasius), with whom Gataker corresponded 
 and received help from him for his edition of Antoninus. 
 The Greek text has also been edited by J. M. Schultz, Leip- 
 zig, 1802, 8vo. ; and by the learned Greek Adamantinus 
 Corais, Paris, 1816, 8vo. The text of Schultz was republished 
 by Tauchnitz, 1821. 
 
 There are English, German, French, Italian, and Spanish 
 translations of M. Antoninus, and there may be others. I 
 have not seen all the English translations. There is one by 
 Jeremy Collier, 1702, 8vo., a most coarse and vulgar copy of 
 the original. The latest French translation by Alexis Pier- 
 ron in the collection of Charpentier is better than Dacier's, 
 which has been honoured with an Italian version (Udine, 
 1772). There is an Italian version (1675) which I have not 
 seen. It is by a cardinal. "A man illustrious in the church, 
 the Cardinal Francis Barberini the elder, nephew of Pope 
 Urban VIII., occupied the last years of his life in translating 
 into his native language the thoughts of the Roman emperor, 
 in order to diffuse among the faithful the fertilizing and 
 vivifying seeds. He dedicated this translation to his soul, 
 to make it, as he says in his energetic style, redder than his 
 purple at the sight of the virtues of this Gentile" (Pierron, 
 Preface). 
 
 I have made this translation at intervals after having used 
 the book for many years. It is made from the Greek, but 
 I have not always followed one text ; and I have occasionally 
 compared other versions with my own. I made this transla- 
 tion for my own use, because I found that it was worth the 
 labour; but it may be useful to others also and therefore I 
 determined to print it. As the original is sometimes very 
 difficult to understand and still more difficult to translate, it 
 is not possible that I have always avoided error. But I be- 
 lieve that I have not often missed the meaning, and those 
 who will take the trouble to compare the translation with the 
 original should not hastily conclude that I am wrong, if 
 they do not agree with me. Some passages do give the 
 meaning, though at first sight they may not appear to do so ; 
 and when I differ from the translators, I think that in some 
 places they are wrong, and in other places I am sure that 
 thejr are. I have placed in some passages a f , which indi- 
 
324 M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
 
 cates corruption in the text or great uncertainty in the 
 meaning. I could have made the language more easy and 
 flowing, but I have preferred a ruder style as being better 
 suited to express the character of the original; and some- 
 times the obscurity which may appear in the version is a 
 fair copy of the obscurity of the Greek. If I have not given 
 the best words for the Greek, I have done the best that I 
 could ; and in the text I have always given the same transla- 
 tion of the sam.e word. 
 
 The last reflection of the Stoic philosophy that I have 
 observed is in Simplicius' "Commentary on the Enchiridion 
 of Epictetus." Simplicius was not a Christian, and such a 
 man was not likely to be converted at a time when Chris- 
 tianity was grossly corrupted. But he was a really religious 
 man, and he concludes his commentary with a prayer to the 
 Deity which no Christian could improve. From the time of 
 Zeno to Simplicius, a period of about nine hundred years, 
 the Stoic philosophy formed the characters of some of the 
 best and greatest men. Finally it became extinct, and we 
 hear no more of it till the revival of letters in Italy. Angelo 
 Poliziano met with two very inaccurate and incomplete 
 manuscripts of Epictetus' Enchiridion, which he translated 
 into Latin and dedicated to his great patron Lorenzo de' 
 Medici in whose collection he had found the book. Poli- 
 ziano's version was printed in the first Bale edition of the 
 Enchiridion, a.d. 1531 (apud And. Cratandrum). Poliziano 
 recommends the Enchiridion to Lorenzo as a work well 
 suited to his temper, and useful in the difficulties by which 
 he was surrounded. 
 
 Epictetus and Antoninus have had readers ever since they 
 were first printed. The little book of Antoninus has been 
 the companion of some great men. Machiavelli's "Art of 
 War" and "Marcus Antoninus" were the two books which 
 were used when he was a young man by Captain John Smith, 
 and he could not have found two writers better fitted to form 
 the character of a soldier and a man. Smith is almost un- 
 known and forgotten in England his native country, but not 
 in America where he saved the young colony of Virginia. 
 He was great in his heroic mind and his deeds in arms, but 
 greater still in the nobleness of his character. For a man's 
 
M. AURSLIUS ANTONINUS 325 
 
 greatness lies not in wealth and station, as the vulgar be- 
 lieve, nor yet in his intellectual capacity, which is often asso- 
 ciated with the meanest moral character, the most abject 
 servility to those in high places and arrogance to the poor 
 and lowly; but a man's true greatness lies in the conscious-, 
 ness of an honest purpose in life, founded on a just estimate 
 of himself and everything else, on frequent self-examina- 
 tion, and a steady obedience to the rule which he knows to be 
 right, without troubling himself, as the emperor says he 
 should not, about what others may think or say, or whether 
 they do or do not do that which he thinks and says and does. 
 
BY GEORGE LONG^ M. A. 
 
 IT has been said that the Stoic philosophy first showed 
 its real value v/hen it passed from Greece to Rome. The 
 doctrines of Zeno and his successors were well suited to 
 the gravity and practical good sense of the Romans; and 
 even in the Republican period we have an example of a man, 
 M. Cato Uticensis, who lived the life of a Stoic and died 
 consistently with the opinions which he professed. He was 
 a man, says Cicero, who embraced the Stoic philosophy from 
 conviction; not for the purpose of vain discussion, as most 
 did, but in order to make his life conformable to the Stoic 
 precepts. In the wretched times from the death of Augustus 
 to the murder of Domitian, there was nothing but the Stoic 
 philosophy which could console and support the followers of 
 the old religion under imperial tyranny and amidst universal 
 corruption. There were even then noble minds that could 
 dare and endure, sustained by a good conscience and an ele- 
 vated idea of the purposes of man's existence. Such were 
 Paetus Thrasea, Helvidius Priscus, Cornutus, C. Musonius 
 Rufus,* and the poets Persius and Juvenal, whose energetic 
 language and manly thoughts may be as instructive to us 
 now as they might have been to their contemporaries, Per- 
 sius died under Nero's bloody reign, but Juvenal had the 
 good fortune to survive the tyrant Domitian and to see the 
 
 *I have omitted Seneca, Nero's preceptor. He was in a sens® a Stoic 
 and he has said many good things in a very fine way. There is a judgment 
 of Gellius (xii. 2) on Seneca, or rather a statement of what some people 
 thought of his philosophy, and it is not favourable. His writings and his 
 life must be taken together, and I have nothing more to say of him here. 
 The reader will find a notice of Seneca and his philosophy in *'SeekefS 
 after God,'* by the Kev, Fo W, Farraxo Macmillan and Co. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 32? 
 
 better times of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian,^ His best pre- 
 cepts are derived from the. Stoic school, and they are en- 
 forced in his finest verses by the unrivalled vigour of the 
 Latin language. 
 
 The two best expounders of the later Stoical philosophy 
 were a Greek slave and a Roman emperor, Epictetus, a 
 Phrygian Greek, vv^as brought to Rome, we know not how, 
 but he was there the slave and afterwards the freedman of 
 an unworthy master, Epaphroditus by name, himself a freed- 
 man and a favourite of Nero. Epictetus may have been a 
 hearer of C. Musonius Rufus, while he was still a slave, but 
 he could hardly have been a teacher before he was made 
 free. He was one of the philosophers whom Domitian's 
 order banished from Rome. He retired to Nicopolis in 
 Epirus, and he may have died there. Like other great 
 teachers he wrote nothing, and we are indebted to his grate- 
 ful pupil Arrian for what we have of Epictetus' discourses. 
 Arrian wrote eight books of the discourses of Epictetus, of 
 which only four remain and somx fragments. We have also 
 from Arrian's hand the small Enchiridion or Manual of the 
 chief precepts of Epictetus. There is a valuable commen- 
 tary on the Enchiridion by Simplicius, who lived in the time 
 of the emperor Justinian.* 
 
 Antoninus in his first book (1.7), in which he gratefully 
 commemorates his obligations to his teachers, says that he was 
 m.ade acquainted by Junius Rusticus with the discourses of 
 Epictetus, whom he mentions also in other passages (iv. 41; 
 XI. 34. 36). Indeed the doctrines of Epictetus and Anto- 
 ninus are the samiC, and Epictetus is the best authority for 
 the explanation of the philosophical language of Antoninus 
 and the exposition of his opinions. But the method of the 
 two philosophers is entirely different. Epictetus addressed 
 himself to his hearers in a continuous discourse and in a 
 familiar and simple m.anner. Antoninus wrote down his re- 
 flections for his own use only, in short unconnected para- 
 graphs, which are often obscure. 
 
 2Ribbeck has laboured to prove that those Satires, which contaia phi]o« 
 sophical precepts, are not the work of the real, but of a false Juvenal, a 
 Declamator. ^ Still the verses exist, and were written by somebody who was 
 acquainted with the Stoic doctrines. 
 
 3There is a complete edition of Arrian's Epictetus with the commentary 
 »i Simplicius by J. Schweighauser, 6 vols. 8vo. 1799. iSoo. 
 
328 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 The Stoics made three divisions of philosophy, Physic 
 (^u<Tr/.d>)^ Ethic (:j9cz6>)^ and Logic (Ao^cxdv) (viii. 13). This 
 division, we are told by Diogenes, vv^as made by Zeno of 
 Citium, the founder of the Stoic sect and by Chrysippus; but 
 these philosophers placed the three divisions in the following 
 order. Logic, Physic, Ethic. It appears however that this 
 division was made before Zeno's time and acknowledged by 
 Plato, as Cicero remarks (Acad. Post. i. 5). Logic is not 
 synonymous with our term Logic in the' narrower sense of 
 that word. 
 
 Cleanthes, a Stoic, subdivided the three divisions, and made 
 six: Dialectic and Rhetoric, comprised in Logic; Ethic and 
 Politic; Physic and Theology. This division was merely for 
 practical use, for all Philosophy is one. Even among the 
 earliest Stoics Logic or Dialectic does not occupy the same 
 place as in Plato : it is considered only as an instrument 
 which is to be used for the other divisions of Philosophy. 
 An exposition of the earlier Stoic doctrines and of their 
 modifications would require a volume. My object is to ex- 
 plain only the opimons of Antoninus, so far as they can be 
 collected from his book. 
 
 According to the subdivision of Cleanthes Physic and 
 Theology go together, or the study of the nature of Things, 
 and the study of the nature of the Deity, so far as man can 
 understand the Deity, and of his government of the universe. 
 This division or subdivision is not formally adopted by Anto- 
 ninus, for as already observed, there is no method in his 
 book; but it is virtually contained in it. 
 
 Cleanthes also connects Ethic and Politic, or the study of 
 the principles of morals and the study of the constitution of 
 civil society; and undoubtedly he did well in subdividing 
 Ethic into tv/o parts, Ethic in the narrower sense and Poli- 
 tic, for though the two are intimately connected, they are 
 also very distinct, and many questions can only be properly 
 discussed by carefully observing the distinction. Antoninus 
 does not treat of Politic. Llis subject is Ethic, and Ethic 
 in its practical application to his own conduct in life as a 
 man and as a governor. His Ethic is founded on his doc- 
 trines about man's nature, the Universal Nature, and the re- 
 lation of every man to everything else. It is therefore inti- 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 329 
 
 tnately and inseparably connected with Physic or the nature 
 of Things and with Theology or the Nature of the Deity. 
 He advises us to examine well all the impressions on our 
 minds (^avTaaiai) and to form a right judgment of them, to 
 make just conclusions, and to inquire into the meanings of 
 words, and so far to apply Dialectic, but he has no attempt 
 at any exposition of Dialectic, and his philosophy is in sub- 
 stance purely moral and practical. He says (viii. 13), 
 "Constantly and, if it be possible, on the occasion of every 
 impression on the soul, apply to it the principle of Physic, 
 of Ethic and of Dialectic:" which is only another way of 
 telling us to examine the impression in every possible way. 
 In another passage (iii. 11) he says, "To the aids which have 
 been mentioned let this one still be added: make for thyself 
 a definition or description of the object (ro <pavra<jr6v) which 
 is presented to thee, so as to see distinctly what kind of a 
 thing it is in its substance, in its nudity, in its complete en- 
 tirety, and tell thyself its proper name, and the names of the 
 things of which it has been compounded, and into which it 
 will be resolved." Such an examination implies a use of 
 Dialectic, which Antoninus accordingly employed as a means 
 towards establishing his Physical, Theological and Ethical 
 principles. 
 
 There are several expositions of the Physical, Theological, 
 and Ethical principles, which are contained in the work of 
 Antoninus; and more expositions than I hare read. Ritter 
 ("Geschichte der Philosophic," iv. 241) after explaining 
 the doctrines of Epictetus, treats very briefly and insuffi- 
 ciently those of Antoninus. But he refers to a short essay, 
 in which the work is done better.^ There is also an essay 
 on the Philosophical Principles of M. Aurelius Antoninus by 
 J. M. Schultz, placed at the end of his German translation 
 of Antoninus (Schleswig, 1799). With the assistance of 
 these two useful essays and his own diligent study a man may 
 form a sufficient notion of the principles of Antoninus; but 
 he will find it more difficult to expound them to others. Be- 
 sides the want of arrangement in the original and of connec- 
 tion am_ong the numerous paragraphs, the corruption of the 
 
 - "De Marco Aurelio Antonino . . ex ipsitis Commentariis. Scriptio 
 Ehiiologica." Instituit Nicolaus Bachius, Lipsiae, 1826. 
 
330 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 text, the obscurity of the language and the style, and some- 
 times perhaps the confusion in the writer's own ideas, — 
 besides all this there is occasionally an apparent contradic- 
 tion in the emperor's thoughts, as if his principles were some- 
 times unsettled, as if doubt sometimes clouded his mind. A 
 man who leads a life of tranquillity and reflection, who is 
 not disturbed at home and meddles not with the affairs of the 
 world, may keep his mind at ease and his thoughts in one 
 even course. But such a man has not been tried. All his 
 Ethical philosophy and his passive virtue might turn out to 
 be idle words, if he were once exposed to the rude realities 
 of human existence. Fine thoughts and moral dissertations 
 from men who have not worked and suffered may be read, 
 but they will be forgotten. No religion, no Ethical philos- 
 ophy is worth anything, if the teacher has not lived the ''life 
 of an apostle," and been ready to die "the death of a 
 martyr." "Not in passivity (the passive effects) but m 
 activity lie the evil and the good of the rational social animal, 
 just as his virtue and his vice lie not in passivity, but in 
 activity" (ix. i6). The emperor Antoninus was a practical 
 moralist. From his youth he followed a laborious discipline, 
 and though his high station placed him above all v/ant or the 
 fear of it, he lived as frugally and temperately as the poorest 
 philosopher. Epictetus wanted little, and it seems that he 
 always had the little that he wanted and he was content with 
 it, as he had been with his servile station. But Antoninus 
 after his accession to the empire sat on an uneasy seat. He 
 had the administration of an empire which extended from the 
 Euphrates to the Atlantic, from the cold mountains of Scot- 
 land to the hot sands of Africa ; and we may imagine, though 
 we cannot know it by experience, what must be the trials, 
 the troubles, the anxiety and the sorrows of him who has the 
 world's business on his hands with the wish to do the best 
 that he can, and the certain knowledge that he can do very 
 little of the good which he wishes. 
 
 In the midst of war, pestilence, conspiracy, general cor- 
 ruption and with the weight of so unwieldy an empire upon 
 him, we may easily comprehend that Antoninus often had 
 need of all his fortitude to support him. The best and the 
 bravest men have moments of doubt and of weakness, but if 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 331 
 
 they are the best and the bravest, they rise again from their 
 depression by recurring to first principles, as Antoninus does. 
 The emperor says that life is smoke, a vapour, and St. James 
 in his Epistle is of the same mind; that the world is full of 
 envious, jealous, malignant people, and a man might be well 
 content to get out of it. He has doubts perhaps sometimes 
 even about that to which he holds most firmly. There are 
 only a few passages of this kind, but they are evidence of the 
 struggles which even the noblest of the sons of men had to 
 maintain against the hard realities of his daily life. A poor 
 remark it is which I have seen som.ewhere, and made in a 
 disparaging way, that the emperor's reflections show that he 
 had need of consolation and comfort in life, and even to 
 prepare him to meet his death. True that he did need com- 
 fort and support, and we see how he found it. He constantly 
 recurs to his fundamental principle that the universe is 
 wisely ordered, that every man is a part of it and must con- 
 form to that order which he cannot change, that v/hatever 
 the Deity has done is good, that all mankind are a mean's 
 brethren, that he must love and cherish them and try to 
 make them better, even those who v/ould do him harm. 
 This is his conclusion (ii, 17) : "What then is that which is 
 able to conduct a man ? One thing and only one. Philosophy. 
 But this consists in keeping the divinity within a man free 
 from violence and unharmed, superior to pains and pleasures, 
 doing nothing without a purpose nor yet falsely and with 
 hypocrisy, nor feeling the need of another man's doing or 
 not doing anything; and besides, accepting all that happens 
 and all that Is allotted, as coming from thence, wherever it 
 is, from whence he himself came; and finally waiting for 
 death with a cheerful mind as being nothing else than a dis- 
 solution of the elem^ents, of which every living being is com- 
 pounded. But if there is no harm to the elements them- 
 selves in each continually changing into another, why should 
 a man have any apprehension about the change and dis- 
 solution of all the elements [himself] ? for it is accord- 
 ing to nature; and nothing is evil that is according to 
 nature." 
 
 The Physic of Antoninus is the knowledge of the Nature 
 of the Universe, of its government, and of the relation of 
 
332 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 man's nature to both. He names the universe {y] rcDv oXmv ohaioy 
 VI. i), "the universal substance," and he adds that "reason" 
 {Xoyo^) governs the universe. He also (vi. 9) uses the terms 
 "universal nature" or "nature of the universe." He (vi. 25) 
 calls the universe "the one and all, which we name Cosmus 
 or Order" {xoaiio^y If he ever seems to use these general 
 terms as significant of the All, of all that man can in any 
 way conceive to exist, he still on other occasions plainly dis- 
 tinguishes between Matter, Material things {oXtj^ hXixov)^ and 
 Cause, Origin, Reason (ahia^ ahicBde?, Xoyo?). This is con- 
 formable to Zeno's doctrine that there are two original 
 principles (a^/a:') of all things, that w^hich acts (ro ttocow) and 
 that which is acted upon (rd Ttdd^^ov). That which is acted on is 
 the formless matter {oXr^) that M^hich acts is the reason {X6yo<s)^ 
 God, who is eternal and operates through all matter, and 
 produces all things. So Antoninus (v. 32) speaks of the 
 reason (Aw^'o?) which pervades all substance (^ovaia)^ and 
 through all time by fixed periods (revolutions) administers 
 the universe {rb Tcav). God is eternal, and Matter is eternal. 
 It is God who gives form to matter, but he is not said to have 
 created matter. According to this view, which is as old as 
 Anaxagoras, God and matter exist independently, but God 
 governs matter. This doctrine is simply the expression of 
 the fact of the existence both of matter and of God. The 
 Stoics did not perplex themselves with the insoluble ques- 
 tion of the origin and nature of matter. Antoninus also 
 assumes a beginning of things, as we now know them; but 
 his language is sometimes very obscure. I have endeavoured 
 to explain the meaning of one difficult passage, (vii. 75, 
 and the note.) 
 
 Matter consists of elemental parts (ffrot^sTa) of which all 
 material objects are made. But nothing is permanent in 
 form. The nature of the universe, according to Antoninus, 
 Expression (iv. 36), "loves nothing so much as to change the 
 things which are, and to make new things like them. For 
 everything that exists is in a manner the see'd of that which 
 will be. But thou art thinking only of seeds which are cast 
 into the earth or into a womb: but this is a very vulgar 
 notion." All things then are in a constant flux and change: 
 some things are dissolved into the elements, others come in 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 333 
 
 their places; and so the "whole universe continues ever 
 young and perfect." (xii. 23.) 
 
 Antoninus has some obscure expressions about what he calls 
 ^'seminal principles" {ffaspfiaruoi Xoyoc). He opposes them 
 to the Epicurean atoms (vi. 24), and consequently his "semi- 
 nal principles" are not material atoms which wander about 
 at hazard, and com.bine nobody knows how. In one passage 
 (iv. 21) he speaks of living principles, souls (^y;/ a)) after the 
 dissolution of their bodies being received into the "seminal 
 principle of the universe." Schultz thinks that by "seminal 
 principles Antoninus means the relations of the various ele- 
 mental principles, which relations are determined by the deity 
 and by which alone the production of organized beings is 
 possible." This may be the meaning, but if it is, nothing of 
 any value can be derived from it. Antoninus often uses the 
 word "Nature" (^ipufft?), and we must attempt to fix its mean- 
 ing. The simple etymological sense of fU(n<s is "production," 
 the birth of what we call Things, The Romans used Natura, 
 which also means "birth" originally. But neither the Greeks 
 . nor the Romans stuck to this simple meaning, nor do w^e. 
 Antoninus says (x. 6) : "Whether the universe is [a con- 
 course of] atoms or Nature [is a system], let this first be 
 established that I am a part of the whole which is governed 
 by nature." Here it might seem as if nature were personi- 
 fied and viewed as an active, efficient power, as something 
 which, if not independent of the Deity, acts by a power 
 which is given to it by the Deity. Such, if I understand the 
 expression right, is the way in which the word Nature is 
 often used now, though it is plain that many writers use ttfe 
 word without fixing any exact m.eaning to it. It is the same 
 with the expression Laws of Nature, which some writers 
 may use in an intelligible sense, but others as clearly use in 
 no definite sense at all. There is no meaning in this word 
 Nature, except that which Bishop Butler assigns to it, when 
 he says, "The only distinct meaning of that word Natural is 
 Stated, Fixed or Settled; since what is natural as much re- 
 quires and presupposes, an intelligent agent to render it so, 
 i.e. to effect it continually or at stated times, as what is super- 
 natural or miraculous does to effect it at once." This is 
 Plato's meaning (De Leg. iv. 715), when he says, that God 
 
334 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 holds the beginning and end and middle of all that exists, and 
 proceeds straight on his course, making his circuit ac- 
 cording to nature (that is, by a fixed order) ; and he is 
 continually accompanied by justice who punishes those who 
 deviate from the divine law, that is, from the order or course 
 which God observes. 
 
 When we look at the motions of the planets, the action 
 of what we call gravitation, the elemental combination of 
 unorganized bodies and their resolution, the production of 
 plants and of living bodies, their generation, growth, and 
 their dissolution, which we call their death, we observe a 
 regular sequence of phaenomena, which within the limits of 
 experience present and past, so far as we know the past, is 
 fixed and invariable. But if this is not so, if the order and 
 sequence of phaenomena, as known to us, are subject to 
 change in the course of an infinite progression, — and such 
 change is conceivable, — we have not discovered, nor shall 
 we ever discover, the whole of the order and sequence of 
 phaenomena, in which sequence there may be involved ac- 
 cording to its very nature, that is, according to its fixed 
 order, some variation of what we now call the Order or 
 Nature of Things. It is also conceivable that such changes 
 have taken place, changes in the order of things, as we are 
 compelled by the imperfection of language to call them, but 
 which are no changes; and further it is certain, that our 
 knowledge of the true sequence of all actual phaenomena, as 
 for instance, the phaenomena of generation, growth, and dis- 
 solution, is and ever must be imperfect. 
 
 We do not fare much better when we speak of Causes and 
 Effects than when we speak of Nature. For the practical 
 purposes of life we may use the terms cause and effect con- 
 veniently, and we may fix a distinct meaning to them, dis- 
 tinct enough at least to prevent all misunderstanding. But 
 the case is different when we speak of causes and effects as 
 of Things. All that we know is phaenomena, as the Greeks 
 call them, or appearances which follow one another in a 
 regular order, as we conceive it, so that if some one phae- 
 nomenon should fail in the series, we conceive that there 
 must either be an interruption of the series, or that some- 
 , thing else will appear after the phaenomenon which has 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 335 
 
 failed to appear, and will occupy the vacant place ; and so the 
 series in its progression may be modified or totally changed. 
 Cause and effect then mean nothing in the sequence of natural 
 phaenomena beyond what I have said; and the real cause, 
 or the transcendent cause, as some would call it, of each 
 successive phaenomenon is in that which is the cause of all 
 things which are, which have been, and which will be for 
 ever. ^Thus the word Creation may have a real sense if we 
 consider it as the first, if we can conceive a first, in the 
 present order of natural phaenomena; but in the vulgar 
 sense a creation of all things at a certain time, followed by 
 a quiescence of the first cause and an abandonment of all 
 sequences of Phaenomena to the laws of Nature, or to the 
 other words that people may use, is absolutely absurd.* 
 
 Now, though there is great difficulty in understanding all 
 the passages of Antoninus, in which he speaks of Nature, of 
 the changes of things, and of the economy of the universe, I 
 am convinced that his sense of Nature and Natural is the 
 same as that which I have stated ; and as he was a man who 
 knew how to use words in a clear way and with strict con- 
 sistency, we ought to assume, even if his meaning in some 
 , passages is doubtful, that his view of Nature was in har- 
 mony with his fixed belief in the all-pervading, ever present, 
 and ever active energy of God. (ii. 4; iv. 40; x. i ; vi. 40; 
 and other passages. Compare Seneca, De Benef., iv. 7. 
 Swedenborg, "Angelic Wisdom," 349-357.) 
 
 There is much in Antoninus that is hard to understand, 
 and it might be said that he did not fully comprehend all 
 that he wrote; which would however be in no way re- 
 markable, for it happens now that a man may write v/hat: 
 neither he nor anybody can understand. Antoninus tells us 
 (xii. 10) to look at things and see what they are, resolving 
 them into the material {oXt))^ the causal (al'Ttov)^ and the rela- 
 
 ^Time and space are the conditions of our thought; but time infinite 
 and space infinite cannot be objects of thought, except in a very imperfect 
 way. Time and space must not in any way be thought of, when v/e think 
 of the Deity. Swedenborg says, "The natural man may believe that he 
 would have no thought, if the ideas of time, of space, and of things ma- 
 terial were taken away; for upon those is founded all the thought that 
 man has. But let him know that the thoughts are limited and confined in 
 proportion as they partake of time, of space, and of what is material; and 
 that they are not limited and are extended, in proportion as they do not 
 partake of those things; since the mind is so far elevated above the things 
 corporeal and v/orldly."— ("Concersing Heaven and Hell," 169.) 
 
336 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 tion {ava<popd), or the purpose, by which he seems to mean 
 something in the nature of what we call effect, or' end. 
 The word Cause (^ahca) is the difficulty. There is the 
 same word in the Sanscrit {hetu) ; and the subtle philoso- 
 phers of India and of Greece, and the less subtle philosophers 
 of modern times, have all used this word, or an equivalent 
 word, in a vague way. Yet the confusion sometimes may 
 be in the inevitable am-biguity of language rather than in the 
 mind of the writer, for I cannot think that some of the 
 wisest of men did not know what they intended to say. 
 When Antoninus says (iv. 36), "that everything that exists 
 is in a manner the seed of that which will be,''' he might be 
 supposed to say what some of the Indian philosophers have 
 said, and thus a profound truth might be converted into a 
 gross absurdity. But he says, "in a manner," and in a man- 
 ner he said true ; and in a.nother manner, if you mistake his 
 meaning, he said false. When Plato said, "Nothing ever is, 
 but is always becoming" (ds). ytyveTai)^ he delivered a text, out 
 of which we may derive something; for he destroys by it not 
 all practical, but all speculative notions of cause and effect. 
 The whole series of things, as they appear to us, must be 
 contemplated in time, that is, in succession, and we conceive 
 or suppose intervals between one state of things and another 
 state of things, so that there is priority and sequence, and 
 interval, and Being, and a ceasing to Be, and beginning and 
 ending. But there is nothing of the kind in the Nature of 
 Things. It is an everlasting continuity, (iv. 45; vii. 75,) 
 When Antoninus speaks of generation (x. 26), he speaks of 
 one cause (alria) acting, and then another cause taking up 
 the work, which the former left in a certain state, and so 
 on; and we might conceive that he had some notion like 
 what has been called "the self-evolving power of nature;" a 
 fine phrase indeed, the full import of which I believe that 
 the writer of it did not see, and thus he laid himself open to 
 the imputation of being a follower of one of the Hindu sects, 
 which makes all things come by evolution out of nature or 
 matter, or out of something which takes the place of Deity, 
 but is not Deity. I would have all men think as they please, 
 or as they can, and I only claim the same freedom which I 
 live. When a man writes anything, we may fairly try to 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 337 
 
 find out all that his words must mean, even if the result is 
 that they mean what he did not mean; and if we find this 
 contradiction, it is not our fault, but his misfortune. Now 
 Antoninus is perhaps somewhat in this condition in what he 
 says (x. 26),. though he speaks at the end of the paragraph 
 of the power which acts, unseen by the eyes, but still no less 
 clearly. But whether in this passage (x. 26) he means that 
 the power is conceived to be in the different successive 
 causes (^ahtac')^ or in something else, nobody c3-n tell. From 
 other passages, however, I do collect that his notion of the 
 phaenomena of the universe is v/hat I have stated. The 
 Deity works unseen, if we may use such language, and per- 
 haps I may, as Job did, or he v/ho wrote the book of Job. 
 "In him we live and move and are," said St. Paul to the 
 Athenians, and to show his bearers that this was no new 
 doctrine, he quoted the Greek poets. One of these poets 
 was the Stoic Cleanthes, whose noble hymn to Zeus or God 
 is an elevated expression of devotion and philosophy. It 
 deprives Nature of her power and puts her under the im- 
 mediate government of the Deity. 
 
 "Thee all this heaven, which whirls around the earth, 
 Obeys and willing follows where thou leadest.— 
 Without thee, God, nothing is done on earth, 
 Nor in the aethereal realms, nor in the sea, 
 Save what the wicked through their folly do." 
 
 Antoninus' conviction of the existence of a divine powef 
 and government was founded on his perception of the order 
 of the uniA^erse. Like Socrates (Xen. Mem., iv. 3, 13, etc.), 
 he says that though v\^e cannot see the forms of divine powers 
 we know that they exist because we see their works. 
 
 "To those who ask. Where hast thou' seen the gods, or how 
 dost thou comprehend that they exist and so worshipest 
 them? I answer, in the first place, that they may be seen 
 even with the eyes ; in the second place, neither have I seen 
 m.y own soul, and yet I honour it. Thus then with respect 
 to the gods, from what I constantly experience of their 
 power, from this I comprehend that they exist, and I 
 venerate them." (xii. 28, and the note. Comp. Aristotle, 
 de Mundo, c. 6; Xen. Mem., i. 4, 9; Cicero, TuscuL, i, 28^ 
 29; Sto Paul's Epistle to the Romans, i. 19^ 20; and Mon- 
 
338 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 taigne^s "Apology for Ralmond de Sebonde/' ii. C. 12.) 
 This is a very old argument which has always had great 
 weight with most people, and has appeared sufEcient. It 
 does not acquire the least additional strength by being de- 
 veloped in a learned treatise. It is as intelligible in its 
 simple enunciation as it can be made. If it is rejected, there 
 is no arguing with him who rejects it: and i£ it is worked 
 out into innumerable particulars, the value of the evidence 
 runs the risk of being buried under a mass of words. 
 
 Man being conscious that he is a spiritual power or in- 
 tellectual power, or that he has such a power, in whatever 
 way he conceives that he has it — for I wish simply to state 
 a fact — from this power which he has in himself, he is led, 
 as Antoninus says, to believe that there is a greater power, 
 which as the old Stoics tell us, pervades the whole universe 
 as the intellect (voD?) pervades man. (Compare Epictetus' 
 Discourses, i. 14; and "Voltaire a Mad^ Necker," vol. lxvii. 
 p. 278, ed. Lequien.) 
 
 God exists then, but what do we know of his Nature? 
 Antoninus says that the soul of man is an efflux from the 
 divinity. We have bodies like animals, but we have reason, 
 intelligence as the gods. Animals have life {(po/7j), and what 
 we call instincts or natural principles of action: but the 
 rational animal man alone has a rational, intelligent soul 
 {(pu^ij XopxTJj vospdy Antoninus insists on this continually : God 
 is in man,® and so we mxust constantly attend to the divinity 
 within us, for it is only in this way that we can have any 
 knowledge of the nature of God. The human soul is in a 
 sense a portion of the divinity; and the soul alone has any 
 communication with the Deity, for as he says (xii. 2) : 
 "With his intellectual part alone God touches the intelligence 
 only which has flowed and been derived from himself into 
 these bodies." In fact he says that which is hidden within 
 a man is life, that is the man himself. All the rest is vesture, 
 covering, organs, instrument, which the living man, the real 
 man, uses for the purpose of his present existence. The air 
 is universally diffused for him who is able to respire, and so 
 for him who is willing to partake of it the intelligent power, 
 
 ^Comp. Ep. to the Corinthians, i. 3, 17, and James iv. 8, "Draw nigb 
 
 to God and he will draw nigh to you." 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 339 
 
 which holds within it all things, is diffused as wide and free 
 as the air. (viii. 54.) It is by living a divine life that man 
 approaches to a knowledge of the divinity. It is by following 
 the divinity within, dat/x<ov or 6s6? as Antoninus calls it, that 
 man comes nearest to the Deity, the supreme good, for man 
 can never attain to perfect agreement with his internal guide 
 (to ■^ysfiovr/.6>). ''Live with the gods. And he does live with 
 the gods who constantly shows to them that his own soul is 
 satisfied with that which is assigned to him, and that it does 
 all the daem^on (^daqj.iov') wishes, which Zeus hath given to 
 every man for his guardian and guide, a portion of himself. 
 And this daemon is every man's understanding and reason." 
 (v. 27). ^ ^ 
 
 There is in man, that is in the reason, the intelligence, a 
 superior faculty which if it is exercised rules all the rest. 
 This is the ruling faculty {rb ^^e/jiovtxdv) which Cicero (De 
 Natura Deorum, 11. 11) renders by the Latin word Princi- 
 patus, "to which nothing can or ought to be superior." Anto- 
 ninus often uses this term, and others which are equivalent. 
 He names it (vii. 64) "the governing intelligence." The 
 governing faculty is the master of the soul. (v. 26.) A 
 man must reverence only his ruling faculty and the divinity 
 within him. As we must reverence that which is supreme 
 in the universe, so we must reverence that which is supreme 
 in ourselves, and this is that which is of like kind with that 
 which is supreme in the universe, (v. 21.) So, as Plotinus 
 says, the soul of man can only know the divine, so far as it 
 knows itself. In one passage (xi. 19) Antoninus speaks of 
 a man's condemnation of himself, when the diviner part 
 within him has been ovcrpov/ered and yields to the less hon- 
 ourable and to the perishable part, the body, and its gross 
 pleasures. In a word, the views of Antoninus on this mat- 
 ter, however his expressions may vary, are exactly what 
 f^ishop Butler expresses, when he speaks of "the natural 
 supremacy of reflection or conscience/' of the faculty "which 
 surveys, approves or disapproves the several affections of 
 our mind and actions of our lives." 
 
 Much matter might be collected from Antoninus on the 
 notion of the universe being one animated Being. But all 
 that he says amounts to no more, as Schultz remarks, than 
 
340 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 this: the soul of man is most intimately united to his body 
 and together they make one animal, which we call man; so 
 the Deity is most intimately united to the world or the ma- 
 terial universe, and together they form one whole. But 
 Antoninus did not view God and the material universe as 
 the same, any more than he viewed the body and soul of man 
 as one. Antoninus has no speculations on the absolute 
 nature of the deity. It was not his fashion to waste his time 
 on what man cannot understand.'^ He v/as satisfied that 
 God exists, that he governs all things, that man can only 
 have an imperfect knowledge of his nature, and he must 
 attain this imperfect knowledge by reverencing the divinity 
 which is within him, and keeping it pure. 
 
 From all that has been said it follows that the universe is 
 administered by the Providence of God {jtpovoia^) and that all 
 things are wisely ordered. There are passages in which 
 Antoninus expresses doubts, or states different possible 
 theories of the constitution and government of the universe, 
 but he always recurs to his fundamental principle, that if 
 we admit the existence of a Deity, we must also admit that 
 he orders al^ things wisely and well. (iv. 27; vi. i; ix. 28; 
 XII. 5, and many other passages.) Epictetus says (i. 6) that 
 we can discern the providence which rules the world, if we 
 possess two things, the pov/er of seeing all that happens with 
 respect to each thing, and a grateful disposition. 
 
 But if all things are wisely ordered, how is the world so 
 full of what we call evil, physical and moral? If instead of 
 saying that there is evil in the world, we use the expression 
 which I have used, "what we call evil," we have partly anti- 
 cipated the emperor's answer. We see and feel and know 
 imperfectly very few things in the few years that we live, 
 and all the knowledge and all the experience of all the human 
 race is positive ignorance of the whole, which is infinite. 
 Now as our reason teaches us that everything is in some 
 way related to and connected with every other thing, all 
 notion of evil as being in the universe of things is a contra- 
 diction, for if the whole comes from and is governed by an 
 intelligent being, it is impossible to conceive anything in 
 
 ^"God who is infinitely beyond the reach of our narrow capacities.'* 
 Locke, "Essay concerning Human Understanding." jvj., chap. 17. 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 341 
 
 it which tends to the evil or destruction of the whole. 
 (viii. 55; X. 6.) Everything is in constant mutation, and 
 yet the whole subsists. We might imagine the solar system 
 resolved into its elemental parts, and yet the whole would 
 still subsist "ever young and perfect." 
 
 All things, all form.s, are dissolved and new forms appear. 
 All living things undergo the change which we call death. 
 If we call death an evil, then all change is an evil. Living 
 beings also suffer pain, and man suffers most of all, for he 
 suffers both in and by his body and by his intelligent part. 
 Men suffer also from one another, and perhaps the largest 
 part of human suffering comes to man from those whom he 
 calls his brothers. Antoninus says (viii. 55), "Generally, 
 wickedness does no harm at all to the universe; and par- 
 ticularly, the wickedness [of one man] does no harm to an- 
 other. It is only harmful to him who has it in his power to 
 be released from it as soon as he shall choose." The first 
 part of this is perfectly consistent with the doctrine that the 
 whole can sustain no evil or harm. The second part must 
 be explained by the Stoic principle that there is no evil in 
 anything which is not in our power. What wrong we suffer 
 from another is his evil, not ours. But this is an admission 
 that there is evil in a sort, for he who does wrong does evil, 
 and if others can endure the wrong, still there is evil in the 
 wrong-doer. Antoninus (xi. 18) gives many excellent pre- 
 cepts with respect to wrongs and injuries, and his precepts 
 are practical. He teaches us to bear what we cannot avoid, 
 and his lessons may be just as useful to him who denies the 
 being and the government of God as to him who believes in 
 both. There is no direct answer in Antoninus to the objec- 
 tions which may be made to the existence and providence of 
 God because of the moral disorder and suffering which are 
 in the world, except this answer which he makes in reply 
 to the supposition that even the best men may be extinguished 
 by death. He says if it is so, we may be sure that if it 
 ought to have been otherwise, the gods would have ordered 
 it otherwise, (xii. 5.) His conviction of the wisdom which 
 we may observe in the government of the world is too strong 
 to be disturbed by any apparent irregularities in the order 
 of things. That these disorders exist is a fact, and those 
 
342 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 who would conclude from them against the being and govern- 
 ment of God conclude too hastily. We all admit that there 
 is an order in the material world, a Nature, in thQ sense in 
 which that word has been explained, a constitution (xaraaxeu^) 
 what we call a system, a relation of parts to one another and 
 a fitness of the whole for something. So in the constitution 
 of plants and of animals there is an order, a fitness for some 
 end. Sometimes the order, as we conceive it, is interrupted 
 and the end, as we conceive it, is not attained. The seed, 
 the plant or the animal sometimes perishes before it has 
 passed through all its changes and done all its uses. It is 
 according to Nature, that is, a fixed order, for some t6 
 perish early and for others to do all their uses and leave 
 successors to take their place. So man has a corporeal and 
 intellectual and moral constitution fit for certain uses, and 
 on the whole man performs these uses, dies and leaves other 
 men in his place. So society exists, and a social state is 
 manifestly the Natural State of man, the state for which his 
 Nature fits him ; and society amidst innumerable irregularities 
 and disorders still subsists ; and perhaps we may say that the 
 history of the past and our present knowledge give us a 
 reasonable hope that its disorders will diminish, and that 
 order, its governing principle, may be more firmly established. 
 As order then, a fixed order, we may say, subject to devia- 
 tions real or apparent, must be admitted to exist in the whole 
 Nature of things, that which we call disorder or evil as it 
 seems to us, does not in any way alter the fact of the general 
 constitution of things having a Nature or fixed order. No- 
 body will conclude from the existence of disorder that ordet 
 is not the rule, for the existence of order both physical and 
 moral is proved by daily experience and all past experience. 
 We cannot conceive how the order of the universe is main* 
 tained : we cannot even conceive how our own life from day 
 to day is continued, nor how we perform the simplest move- 
 ments of the body, nor how we grow and think and act^ \ 
 though we know many of the conditions which are necessary 
 for all these functions. Knowing nothing then of the unseen 
 power which acts in ourselves except by what is done, we 
 know nothing of the power which acts through what we call 
 all time and all space; but seeing that there is a Nature or 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 343 
 
 fixed order in all things known to us, it is conformable to 
 the nature of our minds to believe that this universal Nature 
 has a cause which operates continually, and that we are 
 totally unable to speculate on the reason of any of those dis- 
 orders or evils which we perceive. This I believe is the 
 answer which may be collected from all that Antoninus has 
 said.^ 
 
 The origin of evil is an old question. Achilles tells Priam 
 (Iliad, 24, 527) that Zeus has two casks, one filled with good 
 things, and the other with bad, and that he gives to men out 
 of each according to his pleasure; and so we must be con- 
 tent, for we cannot alter the will of Zeus. One of the Greek 
 commentators asks how must we reconcile this doctrine with 
 what we find in the first book of the Odyssey, where the king 
 of the gods says. Men say that evil comes to them from us, 
 but they bring it on themselves through their own folly. 
 The answer is plain enough even to the Greek commen- 
 tator. The poets make both Achilles and Zeus speak ap- 
 propriately to their several characters. Indeed Zeus says 
 plainly that men do attribute their sufferings to the gods, 
 but they do it falsely, for they are the cause of their own 
 sorrows. 
 
 Epictetus In his Enchiridion (c. 2*]) makes short work of 
 the question of evil. He says, *'As a mark is not set up for 
 the purpose of missing it, so neither does the nature of evil 
 exist in the Universe." This will appear obscure enough 
 to those who are not acquainted with Epictetus, but he al- 
 ways knows what he is talking about. We do not set up a 
 mark in order to miss it, though we may miss it. God, whose 
 existence Epictetus assumes, has not ordered all things so 
 that his purpose shall fail. Whatever there may be of what 
 we call evil, the Nature of evil, as he expresses it, does not 
 exist; that is, evil is not a part of the constitution or nature 
 of Things. If there were a principle of evil {^pxn) in the 
 constitution of things, evil would no longer be evil, as Sim- 
 plicius argues, but evil would be good. Simplicius (c. 34, 
 
 ® Cleanthes says in his hymn : 
 
 "For all things good 
 So that. One everlas 
 
 See Bishop Butler's Sermons. Sermon XV. "Upon the Ignorance of Man " 
 
 "For all things good and bad to One thou formest. 
 So that. One everlasting reason governs all." 
 
344 _ THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 [27] ) has a long and curious discourse on this text of Epic- 
 tetus, and it is amusing and instructive. 
 
 One passage more will conclude this matter. It contains 
 all that the emperor could say (11. 11) : "To go from among 
 men, if there are gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the 
 gods will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not 
 exist, or if they have no concern about human affairs, what 
 is it to me to live in a universe devoid of gods or devoid of 
 providence ? But in truth they do exist, and they do care for 
 human things, and they have put all the means in man's power 
 to enable him. not to fall into real evils. And as to the rest, 
 if there was anything evil, they would have provided for 
 this also, that it should be altogether in a man's power not 
 to fall into it. But that which does not make a man worse, 
 how can it make a man's life worse? But neither through 
 ignorance nor having the knowledge, but not the power to 
 guard against or correct these things, is it possible that the 
 nature of the Universe has overlooked them; nor is it pos- 
 sible that it has made so great a mistake, either through want 
 of power or want of skill, that good and evil should happen 
 indiscriminately to the good and the bad. But death cer- 
 tainly and life, honour and dishonour, pain and pleasure, all 
 these things equally happen to good and bad men, being 
 things which make us neither better nor worse. Therefore 
 they are neither good nor evil." 
 
 The Ethical part of Antoninus' Philosophy follows from 
 his general principles. The end of all his philosophy is to 
 live conformably to Nature, both a man's own nature and 
 the nature of the Universe. Bishop Butler has explained 
 what the Greek philosophers meant when they spoke of living 
 according to Nature, and he says that when it is explained, 
 as he has explained it and as they understood it, it is "a. man- 
 ner of speaking not loose and undeterminate, but clear and 
 distinct, strictly just and true." To live according to Nature 
 is to live according to a man's whole nature, not according 
 to a part of it, and to reverence the divinity within him as 
 the governor of all his actions. "To the rational animal the 
 same act is according to nature and according to reason."^ 
 
 ®This is what Juvenal means when he says (xiv, 321)— 
 
 "Nunquam aUud Natura aliud Sapientia dicit." 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 345 
 
 ftnr. II.) That which is done contrary to reason is also an 
 act contrary to nature, to the whole nature, though it is cer- 
 tainly conformable to some part of man's nature, or it could 
 not be done. Man is made for action, not for idleness of 
 pleasure. As plants and animals do the uses of their nature, 
 so man must do his. (v. i.) 
 
 Man must also live conformably to the universal nature, 
 conformably to the nature of all things of which he is one; 
 and as a citizen of a political community he must direct his 
 life and actions with reference to those among whom, and 
 for whom, among other purposes, he liveSo^'* A man must not 
 retire into solitude and cut himself off from his fellow men. 
 He must be ever active to do his part in the great whole. 
 ■A.11 men are his kin, not only in blood, but still more by par- 
 ticipating in the same intelligence and by being a portion of 
 the same divinity. A man cannot really be injured by his 
 "brethren, for no act of theirs can make him bad, and he must 
 not be angry with them nor hate them: "For we are made 
 for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, like the 
 rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act against one an- 
 other then is contrary to nature ; and it is acting against one 
 another to be vexed and to turn away." (ii. i.) 
 
 Further he says: "Take pleasure in one thing and rest in 
 it, in passing from one social act to another social act, think- 
 ing of God." (vi. 7.) Again: "Love mankind. Follow 
 God." (vii. 31.) It is the characteristic of the rational 
 soul for a man to love his neighbour, (xi. i.) Antoninus 
 teaches in various passages the forgiveness of injuries, and 
 we know that he also practised what he taught. Bishop 
 Butler remarks that "this divine precept to forgive injuries 
 and to love our enemies, though to be met with in Gentile 
 moralists, yet is in a peculiar sense a precept of Christianity, 
 as our Saviour has insisted more upon it than on any other 
 single virtue," The practice of this precept is the most diffi- 
 cult of all virtues. Antoninus often enforces it and gives us 
 aid towards following it. When we are injured, we feel 
 anger and resentment, and the feeling is natural, just and 
 useful for the conservation of society. It is useful that 
 WK)ng-doers should feel the natural consequences of thek 
 " See vm. 52 : and Persius, iii. 66, 
 
346 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 actions, among which is the disapprobation of society and 
 the resentment of him who is wronged. But revenge, in the 
 proper sense of that word, must not be practised. "The best 
 way of avenging thyself," says the emperor, "is not to be- 
 come like the wrong-doer." It is plain by this that he does 
 not mean that we should in any case practise revenge; but 
 he says to those who talk of revenging wrongs, Be not like 
 him who has done the wrong. Socrates in the Crito (c. lo) 
 says the same in other words, and St. Paul (Ep. to the 
 Romans, xii. 17). "When a man has done thee any wrong, 
 immediately consider with what opinion about good or evil 
 he has done wrong. For when thou hast seen this, thou 
 wilt pity him and wilt neither wonder nor be angry," (vii. 
 26.) Antoninus would not deny that wrong naturally pro- 
 duces the feeling of anger and resentment, for this is im- 
 plied in the recommendation to reflect on the nature of the 
 man's mind who has done the wrong, and then you will have 
 pity instead of resentment: and so it comes to the same as 
 St. Paul's advice to be angry and sin not; which, as Butler 
 well explains it, is not a recommendation to be angry, which 
 nobody needs, for anger is a natural passion, but it is a 
 warning against allowing anger to lead us into sin. In short 
 the emperor's doctrine about wrongful acts is this: wrong- 
 doers do not know what good and bad are: they offend out 
 of ignorance, and in the sense of the Stoics this is true. 
 Though this kind of ignorance will never be admitted as a 
 legal excuse, and ought not to be admitted as a full excuse 
 in any way by society, there may be grievous injuries, such 
 as it is in a man's povN^er to forgive without harm to society; 
 and if he forgives because he sees that his enemies know not 
 what they do, he is acting in the spirit of the sublim.e prayer, 
 "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." 
 
 The emperor's moral philosophy was not a feeble, narrow 
 system, w^hich teaches a man to look directly to his own hap- 
 piness, though a man's happiness or tranquillity is indirectly 
 promoted by living as he ought to do. A man must live 
 conformably to the universal nature, which means, as the 
 emperor explains it in many passages, that a man's actions 
 must be conformable to his true relations to all other human 
 beings, both as a citizen of a political community and as a 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 347 
 
 member of the whole human family. This implies, and he 
 often expresses it in the most forcible language, that a man's 
 words and actions, so far as they affect others, must be 
 measured by a fixed rule, which is their consistency with 
 the conservation and the interests of the particular society 
 of which he is a memberj and of the whole human race. To 
 live conformably to such a rule, a man must use his rational 
 faculties in order to discern clearly the consequences and 
 full effect of all his actions and of the actions of others: he 
 must not live a life of contemplation and reflection only, 
 though he must often retire within himself to calm and purify 
 his soul by thought, but he must mingle in the work of man 
 and be a fellow labourer for the general good. 
 
 A man should have an object or purpose in life, that he may 
 direct all his energies to it; of course a good object, (ii. 7.) 
 He who has not one object or purpose of life, cannot be one 
 and the same all through his life, (xi, 21.) Bacon has a 
 remark to the same effect, on the best means of "reducing of 
 the mind unto virtue and good estate; which is, the electing 
 and propounding unto a man's self good and virtuous ends of 
 his life, such as may be in a reasonable sort within his com- 
 pass to attain." He is a happy man who has been wise 
 enough to do this when he was young and has had the op- 
 portunities; but the emperor seeing well that a man cannot 
 always be so wise in his youth, encourages himself to do it 
 when he can, and not to let life slip away before he has 
 begun. He who can propose to himself good and virtuous 
 ends of life, and be true to them, cannot fail to live con- 
 formably to his own interest and the universal interest, for 
 in the nature of things they are one. If a thing is not good 
 for the hive, it is not good for the bee. (vi. 54.) 
 
 One passage may end this matter. *Tf the gods have de- 
 termined about me and about the things which must happen 
 to me, they have determined well, for it is not easy even to 
 imagine a deity without forethought; and as to doing me 
 harm, why should they have any desire towards that? For 
 what advantage would result to them from this or to the 
 whole, which is the special object of their providence? But 
 if they have not determined about me individually, they have 
 certainly determined about the whole at least ; and the things 
 
348 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 which happen by way of sequence in this general arrange- 
 ment I ought to accept with pleasure and to be content with 
 them. But if they determine about nothing — which it is 
 wicked to believe, or if we do believe it, let us neither slacri- 
 fice nor pray nor swear by them nor do anything else which 
 we do as if the gods were present and lived with us — ^but if 
 however the gods determine about none of the things which 
 concern us, I am able to determine about myself, and I can 
 inquire about that which is useful; and that is useful to 
 every man which is conformable to his own constitution 
 (^xaraffxeuTj) and nature. But my nature is rational and social ; 
 and my city and country, so far as I am Antoninus, is Rome ; 
 but so far as I am a m.an, it is the world. The things then 
 which are useful to these cities are alone useful to me." 
 (VI. 44.) 
 
 It would be tedious, and it is not necessary to state the 
 emperor's opinions on all the ways in which a man may 
 profitably use his understanding towards perfecting himself 
 in practical virtue. The passages to this purpose are in all 
 parts of his book, but as they are in no order or connection, 
 a man must use the book a long time before he will find out 
 all that is in it. A few words may be added here. If we 
 analyze all other things, we find how insufficient they are for 
 human life, and how truly worthless many of them are. 
 Virtue alone is indivisible, one, and perfectly satisfying. 
 The notion of Virtue cannot be considered vague or un- 
 settled, because a man may find it difficult to explain the no- 
 tion fully to himself or to expound it to others in such a 
 way as to prevent cavilling. Virtue is a whole, and no more 
 consists of parts than man's intelligence does, and yet we 
 speak of various intellectual faculties as a convenient way of 
 expressing the various powers which man's intellect shows 
 by his works. In the same way we may speak of various 
 virtues or parts of virtue, in a practical sense, for the pur- 
 pose of showing what particular virtues we ought to practise 
 in order to the exercise of the whole of virtue, that is, as 
 much as man's nature is capable of. 
 
 The prime principle in man's constitution is social. The 
 jnext in order is not to yield to the persuasions oi the body, 
 when they are not conformable to the rational principle, 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 349 
 
 which must govern. The third is freedom from error and 
 from deception. "Let then the ruling principle holding fast 
 to these things go straight on and it has what is its own." 
 (vii. 55.) The emperor selects justice as the virtue which 
 is the basis of all the rest (x. 11), and this had been said 
 ■long before his time. 
 
 It is true that all people have some notion of what is 
 meant by justice as a disposition of the mind, and some no- 
 tion about acting in conformity to this disposition; but ex- 
 perience shovv^s that men's notions about justice are as con- 
 fused as their actions are inconsistent with the true notion 
 of justice. The emperor's notion of justice is clear enough, 
 but not practical enough for all mankind. "Let there be 
 freedom from perturbations with respect to the things which 
 come from the external cause; and let there be justice in 
 the things done by virtue of the internal cause, that is, let 
 there be movement and action terminating in this, in social 
 acts, for this is according to thy nature." (ix. 31.) In an- 
 other place (ix. i) he says that "he who acts unjustly acts 
 impiously," which follows of course from all that he says in 
 various places. He insists on the practice of truth as a 
 virtue and as a means to virtue, which no doubt it is: for 
 lying even in indifferent things weakens the understanding; 
 and lying maliciously is as great a moral offence as a man 
 can be guilty of, viewed both as showing an habitual dispo- 
 sition, and viewed with respect to consequences. He couples 
 the notion of justice with action. A man must not pride 
 himself on having some fine notion of justice in his head, 
 but he must exhibit his justice in act, like St. James's notion 
 of faith. But this is enough. 
 
 The Stoics, and Antoninus among them, call some things 
 beautiful (xaXd) and some ugly (aiff/pd), and as they are 
 beautiful so they are good, and as they are ugly so they are 
 evil or bad. (11. i.) All these things good and evil are in 
 our power absolutely, some of the stricter Stoics would say; 
 in a manner only, as those who would not depart altogether 
 from common sense would say; practically they are to a 
 great degree in the power of some persons and in some cir- 
 cumstances, but in a small degree only in other persons and 
 in other circumstances. The Stoics maintain man's free will 
 
350 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 as to the things which are in his power ; for as to the things 
 which are out of his power, free will terminating in action 
 is of course excluded by the very terms of the expression. 
 I hardly know if we can discover exactly Antoninus* notion 
 of the free will of man, nor is the question worth the inquiry. 
 What he does mean and does say is intelligible. All the 
 things which are not in our power {aTtpoaipera ) are indifferent : 
 they are neither good nor bad, morally. Such are life, 
 health, wealth, power, disease, poverty and death. Life and 
 death are all men's portion. Health, wealth, power, disease 
 and poverty happen to men indifferently to the good and to 
 the bad; to those who live according to nature and to those 
 who do not. ''Life," says the emperor, ''is a warfare and 
 a stranger's sojourn, and after fame is oblivion," (ii. 17.) 
 [After speaking of those men who have disturbed the world 
 and then died, and of the death of philosophers such as 
 Heraclitus and Democritus, who was destroyed by lice, and 
 of Socrates whom other lice (his enemies) destroyed, he 
 says: "What means all this? Thou hast embarked, thou 
 hast made the voyage, thou art come to shore; get out. If 
 indeed to another life, there is no want of gods, not even 
 there. But if to a state without sensation, thou wilt cease 
 to be held by pains and pleasures, and to be a slave to the 
 vessel which is as much inferior as that which serves it is 
 superior: for the one is intelligence and deity; the other is 
 earth and corruption." (iii. 3.) It is not death that a man 
 should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live ac- 
 cording to nature, (xii. i.) Every man should live in such a 
 way as to discharge his duty, and to trouble himself about 
 nothing else. He should live such a life that he shall always 
 be ready for death, and shall depart content when the sum- 
 mons comes. For what is death? "A cessation of the im- 
 pressions through the senses, and of the pulling of the strings 
 which move the appetites and of the discursive movements of 
 the thoughts, and of the service to the flesh." (vi. 28.) Death 
 is such as generation is, a mystery of nature, (iv. 5.) In an- 
 other passage, the exact meaning of which is perhaps doubt- 
 ful (ix. 3), he speaks of the child which leaves the womb, and 
 so he says the soul at death leaves its envelope. As the 
 |:diild is born or comes into life by leaving the v/omb, so the 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 351 
 
 soul may on leaving the body pass into another existence 
 which is perfect. I am not sure if this is the emperor's 
 meaning. Butler compares it with a passage in Strabo (p. 
 713), about the Brachmans' notion of death being the birth 
 into real life and a happy life to those who have philoso- 
 phized; and he thinks that Antoninus may allude to this 
 opinion. 
 
 Antoninus' opinion of a future life is nowhere clearly ex- 
 pressed. His doctrine of the nature of the soul of necessity 
 implies that it does not perish absolutely, for a portion of 
 the divinity cannot perish. The opinion is at least as old 
 as the time of Epicharmus and Euripides; what comes from 
 earth goes back to earth, and what comes from heaven, the 
 divinity, returns to him who gave it. But I find nothing 
 clear in Antoninus as to the notion of the man existing after 
 death so as to be conscious of his sameness with that soul 
 which occupied his vessel of clay. He seems to be perplexed 
 on this matter, and finally to have rested in this, that God 
 or the gods will do whatever is best and consistent with the 
 university of things. 
 
 Nor I think does he speak conclusively on another Stoic 
 doctrine, which some Stoics practised, the anticipating the 
 regular course of nature by a man's own act. The reader 
 will find some passages in which this is touched on, and he 
 may make of them what he can. But there are passages in 
 which the emperor encourages himself to wait for the end 
 patiently and with tranquillity; and certainly it is consistent 
 with all his best teaching that a man should bear all that falls 
 to his lot and do useful acts as long as he lives. He should 
 not therefore abridge the time of his usefulness by his own 
 act. Whether he contemplates any possible cases in which a 
 man should die by his own hand, I cannot tell, and the matter 
 is not worth a curious inquiry, for I believe it would not lead 
 to any certain result as to his opinion on this point. I do not 
 think that Antoninus, who never mentions Seneca, though he 
 must have known all about him, would have agreed with 
 Seneca when he gives as a reason for suicide, that the eternal 
 law, whatever he means, has made nothing better for us than 
 this, that it has given us only one way of entering into life 
 and many ways of going out of it. The ways of going out 
 
352 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANTONINUS 
 
 indeed are many, and that is a good reason for a man taking 
 care of himself. 
 
 Happiness was not the direct object of a Stoic's life. 
 There is no rule of life contained in the precept that a man 
 should pursue his own happiness. Many men think that 
 they are seeking happiness when they are only seeking the 
 gratification of some particular passion, the strongest that 
 they have. The end of a man is, as already explained, to 
 live conformably to nature, and he will thus obtain happiness, 
 tranquillity of mind and contentment, (iii. 12; viii. i, and 
 other places.) As a means of living conformably to nature 
 he must study the four chief virtues, each of which has its 
 proper sphere: wisdom, or the knowledge of good and evil; 
 justice, or the giving to every man his due ; fortitude, or the 
 enduring of labour and pain; and temperance, which is 
 moderation in all things. By thus living conformably to 
 nature the Stoic obtained all that he wished or expected. His 
 reward was in his virtuous life, and he was satisfied with 
 that. Some Greek poet long ago wrote : 
 
 For virtue only of all human things 
 
 Takes her reward not from the hands of others. 
 
 Virtue herself rewards the toils of virtue. 
 
 Some of the Stoics indeed expressed themselves in very 
 arrogant, absurd terms, about the wise man's self sufficiency : 
 they elevated him to the rank of a deity. But these were 
 only talkers and lecturers, such as those in all ages who 
 utter fine words, know little of human affairs, and care only 
 for notoriety. Epictetus and Antoninus both by precept and 
 example laboured to improve themselves and others; and if 
 we discover imperfections in their teaching, we must still 
 honour these great men who attempted to show that there 
 is in man's nature and in the constitution of things sufficient 
 reason for living a virtuous life. It is difficult enough to live 
 as we ought to live, difficult even for any man to live in such 
 a way as to satisfy himself, if he exercises only in a moderate 
 'degree the power of reflecting upon and reviewing his own 
 conduct ; and if all men cannot be brought to the same opinions 
 in morals and religion, it is at least worth while to give them 
 good reasons for as much as they can be persuaded to accept. 
 
1^ 
 
'C'l ' ! i I Li^?>V:i-! 
 
 Iliifmi® 
 
 Ri 'J ,;!.r-- 
 
 m 
 
 ,^^,^-1 , -.^,^^ 
 
 i^, 
 
BOSTON COLLEGE 
 
 3 9031 026 12438 8 
 
 ^