thc2
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Vol 2: The Classics
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
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'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 know5.
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^6XoSj 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-
ropos 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
(^uTr/.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 pavrajr6v) 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 {X6yos)^
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(ns 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 {avapopd), 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/xov 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.
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