Meditations
everywhere diffused; and passeth through all things, no less than the
air doth, if a man can but suck it in.
LIII. Wickedness in general doth not hurt the world. Particular
wickedness doth not hurt any other: only unto him it is hurtful,
whosoever he be that offends, unto whom in great favour and mercy it is
granted, that whensoever he himself shall but first desire it, he may be
presently delivered of it. Unto my free-will my neighbour's free-will,
whoever he be, (as his life, or his bode), is altogether indifferent.
For though we are all made one for another, yet have our minds and
understandings each of them their own proper and limited jurisdiction.
For else another man's wickedness might be my evil which God would not
have, that it might not be in another man's power to make me unhappy:
which nothing now can do but mine own wickedness.
LIV. The sun seemeth to be shed abroad. And indeed it is diffused but
not effused. For that diffusion of it is a τάσις or an extension. For
therefore are the beams of it called ἀκτῖνες from the word ἐκτείνεσθαι
to be stretched out and extended. Now what a sunbeam is, thou mayest
know if thou observe the light of the sun, when through some narrow
hole it pierceth into some room that is dark. For it is always in a
direct line. And as by any solid body, that it meets with in the way
that is not penetrable by air, it is divided and abrupted, and yet
neither slides off, or falls down, but stayeth there nevertheless: such
must the diffusion in the mind be; not an effusion, but an extension.
What obstacles and impediments soever she meeteth within her way, she
must not violently, and by way of an impetuous onset light upon them;
neither must she fall down; but she must stand, and give light unto
that which doth admit of it. For as for that which doth not, it is its
own fault and loss, if it bereave itself of her light.
LV. He that feareth death, either feareth that he shall have no sense at
all, or that his senses will not be the same. Whereas, he should rather
comfort himself, that either no sense at all, and so no sense of evil;
or if any sense, then another life, and so no death properly.
LVI. All men are made one for another: either then teach them better, or
bear with them.
LVII. The motion of the mind is not as the motion of a dart. For
the mind when it is wary and cautelous, and by way of diligent
circumspection turneth herself many ways, may then as well be said to
go straight on to the object, as when it useth no such circumspection.
LVIII. To pierce and penetrate into the estate of every one's
understanding that thou hast to do with: as also to make the estate of
thine own open, and penetrable to any other.
THE NINTH BOOK
I. He that is unjust, is also impious. For the nature of the universe,
having made all reasonable creatures one for another, to the end that
they should do one another good; more or less according to the several
persons and occasions but in nowise hurt one another: it is manifest
that he that doth transgress against this her will, is guilty of impiety
towards the most ancient and venerable of all the deities. For the
nature of the universe, is the nature the common parent of all, and
therefore piously to be observed of all things that are, and that which
now is, to whatsoever first was, and gave it its being, hath relation
of blood and kindred. She is also called truth and is the first cause
of all truths. He therefore that willingly and wittingly doth lie, is
impious in that he doth receive, and so commit injustice: but he that
against his will, in that he disagreeth from the nature of the universe,
and in that striving with the nature of the world he doth in his
particular, violate the general order of the world. For he doth no
better than strive and war against it, who contrary to his own nature
applieth himself to that which is contrary to truth. For nature had
before furnished him with instincts and opportunities sufficient for the
attainment of it; which he having hitherto neglected, is not now able
to discern that which is false from that which is true. He also that
pursues after pleasures, as that which is truly good and flies from
pains, as that which is truly evil: is impious. For such a one must of
necessity oftentimes accuse that common nature, as distributing many
things both unto the evil, and unto the good, not according to the
deserts of either: as unto the bad oftentimes pleasures, and the causes
of pleasures; so unto the good, pains, and the occasions of pains.
Again, he that feareth pains and crosses in this world, feareth some of
those things which some time or other must needs happen in the world.
And that we have already showed to be impious. And he that pursueth
after pleasures, will not spare, to compass his desires, to do that
which is unjust, and that is manifestly impious. Now those things which
unto nature are equally indifferent (for she had not created both, both
pain and pleasure, if both had not been unto her equally indifferent):
they that will live according to nature, must in those things (as being
of the same mind and disposition that she is) be as equally indifferent.
Whosoever therefore in either matter of pleasure and pain; death and
life; honour and dishonour, (which things nature in the administration
of the world, indifferently doth make use of), is not as indifferent,
it is apparent that he is impious. When I say that common nature
doth indifferently make use of them, my meaning is, that they happen
indifferently in the ordinary course of things, which by a necessary
consequence, whether as principal or accessory, come to pass in the
world, according to that first and ancient deliberation of Providence,
by which she from some certain beginning, did resolve upon the creation
of such a world, conceiving then in her womb as it were some certain
rational generative seeds and faculties of things future, whether
subjects, changes, successions; both such and such, and just so many.
II. It were indeed more happy and comfortable, for a man to depart out
of this world, having lived all his life long clear from all falsehood,
dissimulation, voluptuousness, and pride. But if this cannot be, yet it
is some comfort for a man joyfully to depart as weary, and out of love
with those; rather than to desire to live, and to continue long in those
wicked courses. Hath not yet experience taught thee to fly from the
plague? For a far greater plague is the corruption of the mind, than any
certain change and distemper of the common air can be. This is a plague
of creatures, as they are living creatures; but that of men as they are
men or reasonable.
III. Thou must not in matter of death carry thyself scornfully, but as
one that is well pleased with it, as being one of those things that
nature hath appointed. For what thou dost conceive of these, of a boy to
become a young man, to wax old, to grow, to ripen, to get teeth, or a
beard, or grey hairs to beget, to bear, or to be delivered; or what
other action soever it be, that is natural unto man according to the
several seasons of his life; such a thing is it also to be dissolved. It
is therefore the part of a wise man, in matter of death, not in any wise
to carry himself either violently, or proudly but patiently to wait for
it, as one of nature's operations: that with the same mind as now thou
dost expect when that which yet is but an embryo in thy wife's belly
shall come forth, thou mayst expect also when thy soul shall fall off
from that outward coat or skin: wherein as a child in the belly it lieth
involved and shut up. But thou desirest a more popular, and though not
so direct and philosophical, yet a very powerful and penetrative recipe
against the fear of death, nothing can make they more willing to part
with thy life, than if thou shalt consider, both what the subjects
themselves are that thou shalt part with, and what manner of disposition
thou shalt no more have to do with. True it is, that, offended with them
thou must not be by no means, but take care of them, and meekly bear
with them However, this thou mayst remember, that whensoever it happens
that thou depart, it shall not be from men that held the same opinions
that thou dost. For that indeed, (if it were so) is the only thing that
might make thee averse from death, and willing to continue here, if it
were thy hap to live with men that had obtained the same belief that
thou hast. But now, what a toil it is for thee to live with men of
different opinions, thou seest: so that thou hast rather occasion to
say, Hasten, I thee pray, O Death; lest I also in time forget myself.
IV. He that sinneth, sinneth unto himself. He that is unjust, hurts
himself, in that he makes himself worse than he was before. Not he only
that committeth, but he also that omitteth something, is oftentimes
unjust.
V. If my present apprehension of the object be right, and my present
action charitable, and this, towards whatsoever doth proceed from God,
be my present disposition, to be well pleased with it, it sufficeth.
VI. To wipe away fancy, to use deliberation, to quench concupiscence, to
keep the mind free to herself.
VII. Of all unreasonable creatures, there is but one unreasonable soul;
and of all that are reasonable, but one reasonable soul, divided betwixt
them all. As of all earthly things there is but one earth, and but one
light that we see by; and but one air that we breathe in, as many as
either breathe or see. Now whatsoever partakes of some common thing,
naturally affects and inclines unto that whereof it is part, being of
one kind and nature with it. Whatsoever is earthly, presseth downwards
to the common earth. Whatsoever is liquid, would flow together. And
whatsoever is airy, would be together likewise. So that without some
obstacle, and some kind of violence, they cannot well be kept asunder.
Whatsoever is fiery, doth not only by reason of the elementary fire tend
upwards; but here also is so ready to join, and to burn together, that
whatsoever doth want sufficient moisture to make resistance, is easily
set on fire. Whatsoever therefore is partaker of that reasonable common
nature, naturally doth as much and more long after his own kind. For by
how much in its own nature it excels all other things, by so much more
is it desirous to be joined and united unto that, which is of its own
nature. As for unreasonable creatures then, they had not long been, but
presently begun among them swarms, and flocks, and broods of young ones,
and a kind of mutual love and affection. For though but unreasonable,
yet a kind of soul these had, and therefore was that natural desire of
union more strong and intense in them, as in creatures of a more
excellent nature, than either in plants, or stones, or trees. But among
reasonable creatures, begun commonwealths, friendships, families, public
meetings, and even in their wars, conventions, and truces. Now among
them that were yet of a more excellent nature, as the stars and planets,
though by their nature far distant one from another, yet even among them
began some mutual correspondency and unity. So proper is it to
excellency in a high degree to affect unity, as that even in things so
far distant, it could operate unto a mutual sympathy. But now behold,
what is now come to pass. Those creatures that are reasonable, are now
the only creatures that have forgotten their natural affection and
inclination of one towards another. Among them alone of all other things
that are of one kind, there is not to be found a general disposition to
flow together. But though they fly from nature, yet are they stopt in
their course, and apprehended. Do they what they can, nature doth
prevail. And so shalt thou confess, if thou dost observe it. For sooner