THE SEVENTH BOOK

I. What is wickedness? It is that which many time and often thou hast
already seen and known in the world. And so oft as anything doth happen
that might otherwise trouble thee, let this memento presently come to thy
mind, that it is that which thou hast already often Seen and known.
Generally, above and below, thou shalt find but the same things. The very
same things whereof ancient stories, middle age stories, and fresh stories
are full whereof towns are full, and houses full. There is nothing that is
new. All things that are, are both usual and of little continuance.

II. What fear is there that thy dogmata, or philosophical resolutions
and conclusions, should become dead in thee, and lose their proper power
and efficacy to make thee live happy, as long as those proper and
correlative fancies, and representations of things on which they mutually
depend (which continually to stir up and revive is in thy power,) are
still kept fresh and alive? It is in my power concerning this thing that
is happened, what soever it be, to conceit that which is right and true.
If it be, why then am I troubled? Those things that are without my
understanding, are nothing to it at all: and that is it only, which doth
properly concern me. Be always in this mind, and thou wilt be right.

III. That which most men would think themselves most happy for, and
would prefer before all things, if the Gods would grant it unto them after
their deaths, thou mayst whilst thou livest grant unto thyself; to live
again. See the things of the world again, as thou hast already seen them.
For what is it else to live again? Public shows and solemnities with much
pomp and vanity, stage plays, flocks and herds; conflicts and contentions:
a bone thrown to a company of hungry curs; a bait for greedy fishes; the
painfulness, and continual burden-bearing of wretched ants, the running to
and fro of terrified mice: little puppets drawn up and down with wires and
nerves: these be the objects of the world among all these thou must stand
steadfast, meekly affected, and free from all manner of indignation; with
this right ratiocination and apprehension; that as the worth is of those
things which a man doth affect, so is in very deed every man’s worth more
or less.

IV. Word after word, every one by itself, must the things that are
spoken be conceived and understood; and so the things that are done,
purpose after purpose, every one by itself likewise. And as in matter of
purposes and actions, we must presently see what is the proper use and
relation of every one; so of words must we be as ready, to consider of
every one what is the true meaning, and signification of it according to
truth and nature, however it be taken in common use.

V. Is my reason, and understanding sufficient for this, or no? If it be
sufficient, without any private applause, or public ostentation as of an
instrument, which by nature I am provided of, I will make use of it for
the work in hand, as of an instrument, which by nature I am provided of.
if it be not, and that otherwise it belong not unto me particularly as a
private duty, I will either give it over, and leave it to some other that
can better effect it: or I will endeavour it; but with the help of some
other, who with the joint help of my reason, is able to bring somewhat to
pass, that will now be seasonable and useful for the common good. For
whatsoever I do either by myself, or with some other, the only thing that
I must intend, is, that it be good and expedient for the public. For as
for praise, consider how many who once were much commended, are now
already quite forgotten, yea they that commended them, how even they
themselves are long since dead and gone. Be not therefore ashamed,
whensoever thou must use the help of others. For whatsoever it be that
lieth upon thee to effect, thou must propose it unto thyself, as the
scaling of walls is unto a soldier. And what if thou through either
lameness or some other impediment art not able to reach unto the top of
the battlements alone, which with the help of another thou mayst; wilt
thou therefore give it over, or go about it with less courage and
alacrity, because thou canst not effect it all alone?

VI. Let not things future trouble thee. For if necessity so require that
they come to pass, thou shalt (whensoever that is) be provided for them
with the same reason, by which whatsoever is now present, is made both
tolerable and acceptable unto thee. All things are linked and knitted
together, and the knot is sacred, neither is there anything in the world,
that is not kind and natural in regard of any other thing, or, that hath
not some kind of reference and natural correspondence with whatsoever is
in the world besides. For all things are ranked together, and by that
decency of its due place and order that each particular doth observe,
they all concur together to the making of one and the same
κόσμος or world: as if you said, a comely
piece, or an orderly composition. For all things throughout, there is but
one and the same order; and through all things, one and the same God, the
same substance and the same law. There is one common reason, and one
common truth, that belongs unto all reasonable creatures, for neither is
there save one perfection of all creatures that are of the same kind, and
partakers of the same reason.

VII. Whatsoever is material, doth soon vanish away into the common
substance of the whole; and whatsoever is formal, or, whatsoever doth
animate that which is material, is soon resumed into the common reason of
the whole; and the fame and memory of anything, is soon swallowed up by
the general age and duration of the whole.

VIII. To a reasonable creature, the same action is both according
to nature, and according to reason.

IX. Straight of itself, not made straight.

X. As several members in one body united, so are reasonable creatures in
a body divided and dispersed, all made and prepared for one common
operation. And this thou shalt apprehend the better, if thou shalt use
thyself often to say to thyself, I am μέλος, or
a member of the mass and body of reasonable substances. But if thou shalt
say I am μέρος, or a part, thou dost not yet
love men from thy heart. The joy that thou takest in the exercise of
bounty, is not yet grounded upon a due ratiocination and right
apprehension of the nature of things. Thou dost exercise it as yet upon
this ground barely, as a thing convenient and fitting; not, as doing good
to thyself, when thou dost good unto others.

XI. Of things that are external, happen what will to that which can
suffer by external accidents. Those things that suffer let them complain
themselves, if they will; as for me, as long as I conceive no such thing,
that that which is happened is evil, I have no hurt; and it is in my power
not to conceive any such thing.

XII. Whatsoever any man either doth or saith, thou must be good; not for
any man’s sake, but for thine own nature’s sake; as if either gold, or the
emerald, or purple, should ever be saying to themselves, Whatsoever any
man either doth or saith, I must still be an emerald, and I must keep my
colour.

XIII. This may ever be my comfort and security: my understanding, that
ruleth over all, will not of itself bring trouble and vexation upon
itself. This I say; it will not put itself in any fear, it will not lead
itself into any concupiscence. If it be in the power of any other to
compel it to fear, or to grieve, it is free for him to use his power. But
sure if itself do not of itself, through some false opinion or supposition
incline itself to any such disposition; there is no fear. For as for the
body, why should I make the grief of my body, to be the grief of my mind?
If that itself can either fear or complain, let it. But as for the soul,
which indeed, can only be truly sensible of either fear or grief; to which
only it belongs according to its different imaginations and opinions, to
admit of either of these, or of their contraries; thou mayst look to that
thyself, that it suffer nothing. Induce her not to any such opinion or
persuasion. The understanding is of itself sufficient unto itself, and
needs not (if itself doth not bring itself to need) any other thing
besides itself, and by consequent as it needs nothing, so neither can it
be troubled or hindered by anything, if itself doth not trouble and hinder
itself.

XIV. What is
εὐδαιμονία, or
happiness: but ἀγαθὸς
δαίμων, or, a good dæmon, or spirit? What
then dost thou do here, O opinion? By the Gods I adjure thee, that thou
get thee gone, as thou earnest: for I need thee not. Thou earnest indeed
unto me according to thy ancient wonted manner. It is that, that all men
have ever been subject unto. That thou camest therefore I am not angry
with thee, only begone, now that I have found thee what thou art.

XV. Is any man so foolish as to fear change, to which all things that
once were not owe their being? And what is it, that is more pleasing and
more familiar to the nature of the universe? How couldst thou thyself use
thy ordinary hot baths, should not the wood that heateth them first be
changed? How couldst thou receive any nourishment from those things that
thou hast eaten, if they should not be changed? Can anything else almost
(that is useful and profitable) be brought to pass without change? How
then dost not thou perceive, that for thee also, by death, to come to
change, is a thing of the very same nature, and as necessary for the
nature of the universe?

XVI. Through the substance of the universe, as through a torrent pass
all particular bodies, being all of the same nature, and all joint workers
with the universe itself as in one of our bodies so many members among
themselves. How many such as Chrysippus, how many such as Socrates, how
many such as Epictetus, hath the age of the world long since swallowed up
and devoured? Let this, be it either men or businesses, that thou hast
occasion to think of, to the end that thy thoughts be not distracted and
thy mind too earnestly set upon anything, upon every such occasion
presently come to thy mind. Of all my thoughts and cares, one only thing
shall be the object, that I myself do nothing which to the proper
constitution of man, (either in regard of the thing itself, or in regard
of the manner, or of the time of doing,) is contrary. The time when thou
shalt have forgotten all things, is at hand. And that time also is at
hand, when thou thyself shalt be forgotten by all. Whilst thou art, apply
thyself to that especially which unto man as he is a mart, is most proper
and agreeable, and that is, for a man even to love them that transgress
against him. This shall be, if at the same time that any such thing doth
happen, thou call to mind, that they are thy kinsmen; that it is through
ignorance and against their wills that they sin; and that within a very
short while after, both thou and he shall be no more. But above all
things, that he hath not done thee any hurt; for that by him thy mind and
understanding is not made worse or more vile than it was before.

XVII. The nature of the universe, of the common substance of all things
as it were of so much wax hath now perchance formed a horse; and then,
destroying that figure, hath new tempered and fashioned the matter of it
into the form and substance of a tree: then that again into the form and
substance of a man: and then that again into some other. Now every one of
these doth subsist but for a very little while. As for dissolution, if it
be no grievous thing to the chest or trunk, to be joined together; why
should it be more grievous to be put asunder?

XVIII. An angry countenance is much against nature, and it is oftentimes
the proper countenance of them that are at the point of death. But were it
so, that all anger and passion were so thoroughly quenched in thee, that
it were altogether impossible to kindle it any more, yet herein must not
thou rest satisfied, but further endeavour by good consequence of true
ratiocination, perfectly to conceive and understand, that all anger and
passion is against reason. For if thou shalt not be sensible of thine
innocence; if that also shall be gone from thee, the comfort of a good
conscience, that thou doest all things according to reason: what shouldest
thou live any longer for? All things that now thou seest, are but for a
moment. That nature, by which all things in the world are administered,
will soon bring change and alteration upon them, and then of their
substances make other things like unto them: and then soon after others
again of the matter and substance of these: that so by these means, the
world may still appear fresh and new.

XIX. Whensoever any man doth trespass against other, presently consider
with thyself what it was that he did suppose to be good, what to be evil,
when he did trespass. For this when thou knowest, thou wilt pity him thou
wilt have no occasion either to wonder, or to be angry. For either thou
thyself dust yet live in that error and ignorance, as that thou dust
suppose either that very thing that he doth, or some other like worldly
thing, to be good; and so thou art bound to pardon him if he have done
that which thou in the like case wouldst have done thyself. Or if so be
that thou dost not any more suppose the same things to be good or evil,
that he doth; how canst thou but be gentle unto him that is in an error?

XX. Fancy not to thyself things future, as though they were present
but of those that are present, take some aside, that thou takest most
benefit of, and consider of them particularly, how wonderfully thou
wouldst want them, if they were not present. But take heed withal, lest
that whilst thou dust settle thy contentment in things present, thou grow
in time so to overprize them, as that the want of them (whensoever it
shall so fall out) should be a trouble and a vexation unto thee. Wind up
thyself into thyself. Such is the nature of thy reasonable commanding
part, as that if it exercise justice, and have by that means tranquillity
within itself, it doth rest fully satisfied with itself without any other
thing.

XXI. Wipe off all opinion stay the force and violence of unreasonable
lusts and affections: circumscribe the present time examine whatsoever it
be that is happened, either to thyself or to another: divide all present
objects, either in that which is formal or material think of the last
hour. That which thy neighbour hath committed, where the guilt of it
lieth, there let it rest. Examine in order whatsoever is spoken. Let thy
mind penetrate both into the effects, and into the causes. Rejoice thyself
with true simplicity, and modesty; and that all middle things between
virtue and vice are indifferent unto thee. Finally, love mankind; obey
God.

XXII. All things (saith he) are by certain order and appointment. And
what if the elements only.

It will suffice to remember, that all things in general are by certain
order and appointment: or if it be but few. And as concerning death, that
either dispersion, or the atoms, or annihilation, or extinction, or
translation will ensue. And as concerning pain, that that which is
intolerable is soon ended by death; and that which holds long must needs
be tolerable; and that the mind in the meantime (which is all in all) may
by way of interclusion, or interception, by stopping all manner of
commerce and sympathy with the body, still retain its own tranquillity.
Thy understanding is not made worse by it. As for those parts that suffer,
let them, if they can, declare their grief themselves. As for praise and
commendation, view their mind and understanding, what estate they are in;
what kind of things they fly, and what things they seek after: and that as
in the seaside, whatsoever was before to be seen, is by the continual
succession of new heaps of sand cast up one upon another, soon hid and
covered; so in this life, all former things by those which immediately
succeed.

XXIII. Out of Plato. ‘He then whose mind is endowed with true
magnanimity, who hath accustomed himself to the contemplation both of all
times, and of all things in general; can this mortal life (thinkest thou)
seem any great matter unto him? It is not possible, answered he. Then
neither will such a one account death a grievous thing? By no means.’

XXIV. Out of Antisthenes. ‘It is a princely thing to do well, and to be
ill-spoken of. It is a shameful thing that the face should be subject unto
the mind, to be put into what shape it will, and to be dressed by it as it
will; and that the mind should not bestow so much care upon herself, as to
fashion herself, and to dress herself as best becometh her.’

XXV. Out of several poets and comics. ‘It will but little avail thee,
to turn thine anger and indignation upon the things themselves that have
fallen across unto thee. For as for them, they are not sensible of it,
&c. Thou shalt but make thyself a laughing-stock; both unto the Gods
and men, &c. Our life is reaped like a ripe ear of corn; one is yet
standing and another is down, &c. But if so be that I and my children
be neglected by the gods, there is some reason even for that, &c. As
long as right and equity is of my side, &c. Not to lament with them,
not to tremble, &c.’

XXVI. Out of Plato. ‘My answer, full of justice and equity, should be
this: Thy speech is not right, O man! if thou supposest that he that is of
any worth at all, should apprehend either life or death, as a matter of
great hazard and danger; and should not make this rather his only care, to
examine his own actions, whether just or unjust: whether actions of a
good, or of a wicked man, &c. For thus in very truth stands the case,
O ye men of Athens. What place or station soever a man either hath chosen
to himself, judging it best for himself; or is by lawful authority put and
settled in, therein do I think (all appearance of danger notwithstanding)
that he should continue, as one who feareth neither death, nor anything
else, so much as he feareth to commit anything that is vicious and
shameful, &c. But, O noble sir, consider I pray, whether true
generosity and true happiness, do not consist in somewhat else rather,
than in the preservation either of our, or other men’s lives. For it is
not the part of a man that is a man indeed, to desire to live long or to
make much of his life whilst he liveth: but rather (he that is such) will
in these things wholly refer himself unto the Gods, and believing that
which every woman can tell him, that no man can escape death; the only
thing that he takes thought and care for is this, that what time he
liveth, he may live as well and as virtuously as he can possibly, &c.
To look about, and with the eyes to follow the course of the stars and
planets as though thou wouldst run with them; and to mind perpetually the
several changes of the elements one into another. For such fancies and
imaginations, help much to purge away the dross and filth of this our
earthly life,’ &c. That also is a fine passage of Plato’s, where he
speaketh of worldly things in these words: ‘Thou must also as from some
higher place look down, as it were, upon the things of this world, as
flocks, armies, husbandmen’s labours, marriages, divorces, generations,
deaths: the tumults of courts and places of judicatures; desert places;
the several nations of barbarians, public festivals, mournings, fairs,
markets.’ How all things upon earth are pell-mell; and how miraculously
things contrary one to another, concur to the beauty and perfection of
this universe.

XXVII. To look back upon things of former ages, as upon the manifold
changes and conversions of several monarchies and commonwealths. We may
also foresee things future, for they shall all be of the same kind;
neither is it possible that they should leave the tune, or break the
concert that is now begun, as it were, by these things that are now done
and brought to pass in the world. It comes all to one therefore, whether a
man be a spectator of the things of this life but forty years, or whether
he see them ten thousand years together: for what shall he see more? ‘And
as for those parts that came from the earth, they shall return unto the
earth again; and those that came from heaven, they also shall return unto
those heavenly places.’ Whether it be a mere dissolution and unbinding of
the manifold intricacies and entanglements of the confused atoms; or some
such dispersion of the simple and incorruptible elements… ‘With meats
and drinks and divers charms, they seek to divert the channel, that they
might not die. Yet must we needs endure that blast of wind that cometh
from above, though we toil and labour never so much.’

XXVIII. He hath a stronger body, and is a better wrestler than I. What
then? Is he more bountiful? is he more modest? Doth he bear all adverse
chances with more equanimity: or with his neighbour’s offences with more
meekness and gentleness than I?

XXIX. Where the matter may be effected agreeably to that reason, which
both unto the Gods and men is common, there can be no just cause of grief
or sorrow. For where the fruit and benefit of an action well begun and
prosecuted according to the proper constitution of man may be reaped and
obtained, or is sure and certain, it is against reason that any damage
should there be suspected. In all places, and at all times, it is in thy
power religiously to embrace whatsoever by God’s appointment is happened
unto thee, and justly to converse with those men, whom thou hast to do
with, and accurately to examine every fancy that presents itself, that
nothing may slip and steal in, before thou hast rightly apprehended the
true nature of it.

XXX. Look not about upon other men’s minds and understandings; but look
right on forwards whither nature, both that of the universe, in those
things that happen unto thee; and thine in particular, in those things
that are done by thee: doth lead, and direct thee. Now every one is bound
to do that, which is consequent and agreeable to that end which by his
true natural constitution he was ordained unto. As for all other things,
they are ordained for the use of reasonable creatures: as in all things we
see that that which is worse and inferior, is made for that which is
better. Reasonable creatures, they are ordained one for another. That
therefore which is chief in every man’s constitution, is, that he intend
the common good. The second is, that he yield not to any lusts and motions
of the flesh. For it is the part and privilege of the reasonable and
intellective faculty, that she can so bound herself, as that neither the
sensitive, nor the appetitive faculties, may not anyways prevail upon her.
For both these are brutish. And therefore over both she challengeth
mastery, and cannot anyways endure, if in her right temper, to be subject
unto either. And this indeed most justly. For by nature she was ordained
to command all in the body. The third thing proper to man by his
constitution, is, to avoid all rashness and precipitancy; and not to be
subject to error. To these things then, let the mind apply herself and go
straight on, without any distraction about other things, and she hath her
end, and by consequent her happiness.

XXXI. As one who had lived, and were now to die by right, whatsoever is
yet remaining, bestow that wholly as a gracious overplus upon a virtuous
life. Love and affect that only, whatsoever it be that happeneth, and is
by the fates appointed unto thee. For what can be more reasonable? And as
anything doth happen unto thee by way of cross, or calamity, call to mind
presently and set before thine eyes, the examples of some other men, to
whom the self-same thing did once happen likewise. Well, what did they?
They grieved; they wondered; they complained. And where are they now? All
dead and gone. Wilt thou also be like one of them? Or rather leaving to
men of the world (whose life both in regard of themselves, and them that
they converse with, is nothing but mere mutability; or men of as fickle
minds, as fickle bodies; ever changing and soon changed themselves) let it
be thine only care and study, how to make a right use of all such
accidents. For there is good use to be made of them, and they will prove
fit matter for thee to work upon, if it shall be both thy care and thy
desire, that whatsoever thou doest, thou thyself mayst like and approve
thyself for it. And both these, see, that thou remember well, according as
the diversity of the matter of the action that thou art about shall
require. Look within; within is the fountain of all good. Such a fountain,
where springing waters can never fail, so thou dig still deeper and
deeper.

XXXII. Thou must use thyself also to keep thy body fixed and steady;
free from all loose fluctuant either motion, or posture. And as upon thy
face and looks, thy mind hath easily power over them to keep them to that
which is grave and decent; so let it challenge the same power over the
whole body also. But so observe all things in this kind, as that it be
without any manner of affectation.

XXXIII. The art of true living in this world is more like a wrestler’s,
than a dancer’s practice. For in this they both agree, to teach a man
whatsoever falls upon him, that he may be ready for it, and that nothing
may cast him down.

XXXIV. Thou must continually ponder and consider with thyself, what
manner of men they be, and for their minds and understandings what is
their present estate, whose good word and testimony thou dost desire. For
then neither wilt thou see cause to complain of them that offend against
their wills; or find any want of their applause, if once thou dost but
penetrate into the true force and ground both of their opinions, and of
their desires. ‘No soul (saith he) is willingly bereft of the truth,’ and
by consequent, neither of justice, or temperance, or kindness, and
mildness; nor of anything that is of the same kind. It is most needful
that thou shouldst always remember this. For so shalt thou be far more
gentle and moderate towards all men.

XXXV. What pain soever thou art in, let this presently come to thy mind,
that it is not a thing whereof thou needest to be ashamed, neither is it a
thing whereby thy understanding, that hath the government of all, can be
made worse. For neither in regard of the substance of it, nor in regard of
the end of it (which is, to intend the common good) can it alter and
corrupt it. This also of Epicurus mayst thou in most pains find some help
of, that it is ‘neither intolerable, nor eternal;’ so thou keep thyself to
the true bounds and limits of reason and give not way to opinion. This
also thou must consider, that many things there be, which oftentimes
unsensibly trouble and vex thee, as not armed against them with patience,
because they go not ordinarily under the name of pains, which in very deed
are of the same nature as pain; as to slumber unquietly, to suffer heat,
to want appetite: when therefore any of these things make thee
discontented, check thyself with these words: Now hath pain given thee the
foil; thy courage hath failed thee.

XXXVI. Take heed lest at any time thou stand so affected, though towards
unnatural evil men, as ordinary men are commonly one towards another.

XXXVII. How know we whether Socrates were so eminent indeed, and of so
extraordinary a disposition? For that he died more gloriously, that he
disputed with the Sophists more subtilty; that he watched in the frost
more assiduously; that being commanded to fetch innocent Salaminius, he
refused to do it more generously; all this will not serve. Nor that he
walked in the streets, with much gravity and majesty, as was objected unto
him by his adversaries: which nevertheless a man may well doubt of,
whether it were so or no, or, which above all the rest, if so be that it
were true, a man would well consider of, whether commendable, or
dis-commendable. The thing therefore that we must inquire into, is this;
what manner of soul Socrates had: whether his disposition was such; as
that all that he stood upon, and sought after in this world, was barely
this, that he might ever carry himself justly towards men, and holily
towards the Gods. Neither vexing himself to no purpose at the wickedness
of others, nor yet ever condescending to any man’s evil fact, or evil
intentions, through either fear, or engagement of friendship. Whether of
those things that happened unto him by God’s appointment, he neither did
wonder at any when it did happen, or thought it intolerable in the trial
of it. And lastly, whether he never did suffer his mind to sympathise with
the senses, and affections of the body. For we must not think that Nature
hath so mixed and tempered it with the body, as that she hath not power to
circumscribe herself, and by herself to intend her own ends and occasions.

XXXVIII. For it is a thing very possible, that a man should be a very
divine man, and yet be altogether unknown. This thou must ever be mindful
of, as of this also, that a man’s true happiness doth consist in very few
things. And that although thou dost despair, that thou shalt ever be a
good either logician, or naturalist, yet thou art never the further off by
it from being either liberal, or modest, or charitable, or obedient unto
God.

XXXIX. Free from all compulsion in all cheerfulness and alacrity thou
mayst run out thy time, though men should exclaim against thee never so
much, and the wild beasts should pull in sunder the poor members of thy
pampered mass of flesh. For what in either of these or the like cases
should hinder the mind to retain her own rest and tranquillity, consisting
both in the right judgment of those things that happen unto her, and in
the ready use of all present matters and occasions? So that her judgment
may say, to that which is befallen her by way of cross: this thou art in
very deed, and according to thy true nature: notwithstanding that in the
judgment of opinion thou dust appear otherwise: and her discretion to the
present object; thou art that, which I sought for. For whatsoever it be,
that is now present, shall ever be embraced by me as a fit and seasonable
object, both for my reasonable faculty, and for my sociable, or charitable
inclination to work upon. And that which is principal in this matter, is
that it may be referred either unto the praise of God, or to the good of
men. For either unto God or man, whatsoever it is that doth happen in the
world hath in the ordinary course of nature its proper reference; neither
is there anything, that in regard of nature is either new, or reluctant
and intractable, but all things both usual and easy.

XL. Then hath a man attained to the estate of perfection in his life and
conversation, when he so spends every day, as if it were his last day:
never hot and vehement in his affections, nor yet so cold and stupid as
one that had no sense; and free from all manner of dissimulation.

XLI. Can the Gods, who are immortal, for the continuance of so many ages
bear without indignation with such and so many sinners, as have ever been,
yea not only so, but also take such care for them, that they want nothing;
and dust thou so grievously take on, as one that could bear with them no
longer; thou that art but for a moment of time? yea thou that art one of
those sinners thyself? A very ridiculous thing it is, that any man should
dispense with vice and wickedness in himself, which is in his power to
restrain; and should go about to suppress it in others, which is
altogether impossible.

XLII. What object soever, our reasonable and sociable faculty doth meet
with, that affords nothing either for the satisfaction of reason, or for
the practice of charity, she worthily doth think unworthy of herself.

XLIII. When thou hast done well, and another is benefited by thy action,
must thou like a very fool look for a third thing besides, as that it may
appear unto others also that thou hast done well, or that thou mayest in
time, receive one good turn for another? No man useth to be weary of that
which is beneficial unto him. But every action according to nature, is
beneficial. Be not weary then of doing that which is beneficial unto thee,
whilst it is so unto others.

XLIV. The nature of the universe did once certainly before it was
created, whatsoever it hath done since, deliberate and so resolve upon the
creation of the world. Now since that time, whatsoever it is, that is and
happens in the world, is either but a consequent of that one and first
deliberation: or if so be that this ruling rational part of the world,
takes any thought and care of things particular, they are surely his
reasonable and principal creatures, that are the proper object of his
particular care and providence. This often thought upon, will much conduce
to thy tranquillity.