Meditations
know what they have done; but are like unto the vine, which beareth her
grapes, and when once she hath borne her own proper fruit, is contented
and seeks for no further recompense. As a horse after a race, and a
hunting dog when he hath hunted, and a bee when she hath made her honey,
look not for applause and commendation; so neither doth that man that
rightly doth understand his own nature when he hath done a good turn:
but from one doth proceed to do another, even as the vine after she hath
once borne fruit in her own proper season, is ready for another time.
Thou therefore must be one of them, who what they do, barely do it
without any further thought, and are in a manner insensible of what they
do. 'Nay but,' will some reply perchance, 'this very thing a rational
man is bound unto, to understand what it is, that he doeth.' For it
is the property, say they, of one that is naturally sociable, to be
sensible, that he doth operate sociably: nay, and to desire, that the
party him self that is sociably dealt with, should be sensible of it
too. I answer, That which thou sayest is true indeed, but the true
meaning of that which is said, thou dost not understand. And therefore
art thou one of those first, whom I mentioned. For they also are led by
a probable appearance of reason. But if thou dost desire to understand
truly what it is that is said, fear not that thou shalt therefore give
over any sociable action.
VII. The form of the Athenians' prayer did run thus: 'O rain, rain, good
Jupiter, upon all the grounds and fields that belong to the Athenians.'
Either we should not pray at all, or thus absolutely and freely; and not
every one for himself in particular alone.
VIII. As we say commonly, The physician hath prescribed unto this man,
riding; unto another, cold baths; unto a third, to go barefoot: so it
is alike to say, The nature of the universe hath prescribed unto this
man sickness, or blindness, or some loss, or damage or some such thing.
For as there, when we say of a physician, that he hath prescribed
anything, our meaning is, that he hath appointed this for that, as
subordinate and conducing to health: so here, whatsoever doth happen
unto any, is ordained unto him as a thing subordinate unto the fates,
and therefore do we say of such things, that they do συμβαίνειν, that
is, happen, or fall together; as of square stones, when either in
walls, or pyramids in a certain position they fit one another, and
agree as it were in an harmony, the masons say, that they do
συμβαίνειν; as if thou shouldest say, fall together: so that in the
general, though the things be divers that make it, yet the consent or
harmony itself is but one. And as the whole world is made up of all the
particular bodies of the world, one perfect and complete body, of the
same nature that particular bodies; so is the destiny of particular
causes and events one general one, of the same nature that particular
causes are. What I now say, even they that are mere idiots are not
ignorant of: for they say commonly τοῦτο ἔφερεν ἀυτῷ, that is, This
his destiny hath brought upon him. This therefore is by the fates
properly and particularly brought upon this, as that unto this in
particular is by the physician prescribed. These therefore let us
accept of in like manner, as we do those that are prescribed unto us
our physicians. For them also in themselves shall We find to contain
many harsh things, but we nevertheless, in hope of health, and
recovery, accept of them. Let the fulfilling and accomplishment of
those things which the common nature hath determined, be unto thee as
thy health. Accept then, and be pleased with whatsoever doth happen,
though otherwise harsh and un-pleasing, as tending to that end, to the
health and welfare of the universe, and to Jove's happiness and
prosperity. For this whatsoever it be, should not have been produced,
had it not conduced to the good of the universe. For neither doth any
ordinary particular nature bring anything to pass, that is not to
whatsoever is within the sphere of its own proper administration and
government agreeable and subordinate. For these two considerations then
thou must be well pleased with anything that doth happen unto thee.
First, because that for thee properly it was brought to pass, and unto
thee it was prescribed; and that from the very beginning by the series
and connection of the first causes, it hath ever had a reference unto
thee. And secondly, because the good success and perfect welfare, and
indeed the very continuance of Him, that is the Administrator of the
whole, doth in a manner depend on it. For the whole (because whole,
therefore entire and perfect) is maimed, and mutilated, if thou shalt
cut off anything at all, whereby the coherence, and contiguity as of
parts, so of causes, is maintained and preserved. Of which certain it
is, that thou doest (as much as lieth in thee) cut off, and in some
sort violently take somewhat away, as often as thou art displeased with
anything that happeneth.
IX. Be not discontented, be not disheartened, be not out of hope, if
often it succeed not so well with thee punctually and precisely to do
all things according to the right dogmata, but being once cast off,
return unto them again: and as for those many and more frequent
occurrences, either of worldly distractions, or human infirmities, which
as a man thou canst not but in some measure be subject unto, be not thou
discontented with them; but however, love and affect that only which
thou dust return unto: a philosopher's life, and proper occupation after
the most exact manner. And when thou dust return to thy philosophy,
return not unto it as the manner of some is, after play and liberty as
it were, to their schoolmasters and pedagogues; but as they that have
sore eyes to their sponge and egg: or as another to his cataplasm; or
as others to their fomentations: so shalt not thou make it a matter of
ostentation at all to obey reason but of ease and comfort. And
remember that philosophy requireth nothing of thee, but what thy
nature requireth, and wouldest thou thyself desire anything that is
not according to nature? for which of these sayest thou; that which is
according to nature or against it, is of itself more kind and pleasing?
Is it not for that respect especially, that pleasure itself is to so
many men's hurt and overthrow, most prevalent, because esteemed commonly
most kind, and natural? But consider well whether magnanimity rather,
and true liberty, and true simplicity, and equanimity, and holiness;
whether these be not most kind and natural? And prudency itself, what
more kind and amiable than it, when thou shalt truly consider with
thyself, what it is through all the proper objects of thy rational
intellectual faculty currently to go on without any fall or stumble?
As for the things of the world, their true nature is in a manner so
involved with obscurity, that unto many philosophers, and those no
mean ones, they seemed altogether incomprehensible, and the Stoics
themselves, though they judge them not altogether incomprehensible,
yet scarce and not without much difficulty, comprehensible, so that
all assent of ours is fallible, for who is he that is infallible in his
conclusions? From the nature of things, pass now unto their subjects
and matter: how temporary, how vile are they I such as may be in the
power and possession of some abominable loose liver, of some common
strumpet, of some notorious oppressor and extortioner. Pass from thence
to the dispositions of them that thou doest ordinarily converse with,
how hardly do we bear, even with the most loving and amiable! that I may
not say, how hard it is for us to bear even with our own selves, in such
obscurity, and impurity of things: in such and so continual a flux both
of the substances and time; both of the motions themselves, and things
moved; what it is that we can fasten upon; either to honour, and respect
especially; or seriously, and studiously to seek after; I cannot so much
as conceive For indeed they are things contrary.
X. Thou must comfort thyself in the expectation of thy natural
dissolution, and in the meantime not grieve at the delay; but rest
contented in those two things. First, that nothing shall happen unto
thee, which is not according to the nature of the universe. Secondly,
that it is in thy power, to do nothing against thine own proper God, and
inward spirit. For it is not in any man's power to constrain thee to
transgress against him.
XI. What is the use that now at this present I make of my soul? Thus
from time to time and upon all occasions thou must put this question to
thyself; what is now that part of mine which they call the rational
mistress part, employed about? Whose soul do I now properly possess? a
child's? or a youth's? a woman's? or a tyrant's? some brute, or some
wild beast's soul?
XII. What those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are
esteemed good, thou mayest gather even from this. For if a man shall
hear things mentioned as good, which are really good indeed, such as are
prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude, after so much heard and
conceived, he cannot endure to hear of any more, for the word good is
properly spoken of them. But as for those which by the vulgar are
esteemed good, if he shall hear them mentioned as good, he doth hearken
for more. He is well contented to hear, that what is spoken by the
comedian, is but familiarly and popularly spoken, so that even the
vulgar apprehend the difference. For why is it else, that this offends
not and needs not to be excused, when virtues are styled good: but that
which is spoken in commendation of wealth, pleasure, or honour, we
entertain it only as merrily and pleasantly spoken? Proceed therefore,
and inquire further, whether it may not be that those things also which
being mentioned upon the stage were merrily, and with great applause of
the multitude, scoffed at with this jest, that they that possessed them
had not in all the world of their own, (such was their affluence and
plenty) so much as a place where to avoid their excrements. Whether, I
say, those ought not also in very deed to be much respected, and
esteemed of, as the only things that are truly good.
XIII. All that I consist of, is either form or matter. No corruption
can reduce either of these unto nothing: for neither did I of nothing
become a subsistent creature. Every part of mine then will by mutation
be disposed into a certain part of the whole world, and that in time
into another part; and so _in infinitum;_ by which kind of mutation, I
also became what I am, and so did they that begot me, and they before
them, and so upwards _in infinitum_. For so we may be allowed to speak,
though the age and government of the world, be to some certain periods
of time limited, and confined.
XIV. Reason, and rational power, are faculties which content themselves
with themselves, and their own proper operations. And as for their first
inclination and motion, that they take from themselves. But their
progress is right to the end and object, which is in their way, as it
were, and lieth just before them: that is, which is feasible and
possible, whether it be that which at the first they proposed to
themselves, or no. For which reason also such actions are termed
κατορθώσεις, to intimate the directness of the way, by which they are
achieved. Nothing must be thought to belong to a man, which doth not
belong unto him as he is a man. These, the event of purposes, are not
things required in a man. The nature of man doth not profess any such
things. The final ends and consummations of actions are nothing at all
to a man's nature. The end therefore of a man, or the _summum bonum_
whereby that end is fulfilled, cannot consist in the consummation of