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 mayst thou find a thing earthly, where no earthly thing is,
than find a man that naturally can live by himself alone.

VIII. Man, God, the world, every one in their kind, bear some fruits.
All things have their proper time to bear. Though by custom, the word
itself is in a manner become proper unto the vine, and the like, yet is it
so nevertheless, as we have said. As for reason, that beareth both common
fruit for the use of others; and peculiar, which itself doth enjoy. Reason
is of a diffusive nature, what itself is in itself, it begets in others,
and so doth multiply.

IX. Either teach them better if it be in thy power; or if it be not,
remember that for this use, to bear with them patiently, was mildness and
goodness granted unto thee. The Gods themselves are good unto such; yea
and in some things, (as in matter of health, of wealth, of honour,) are
content often to further their endeavours: so good and gracious are they.
And mightest thou not be so too? or, tell me, what doth hinder thee?

X. Labour not as one to whom it is appointed to be wretched, nor as one
that either would be pitied, or admired; but let this be thine only care
and desire; so always and in all things to prosecute or to forbear, as the
law of charity, or mutual society doth require.

XI. This day I did come out of all my trouble. Nay I have cast out all
my trouble; it should rather be for that which troubled thee, whatsoever
it was, was not without anywhere that thou shouldest come out of it, but
within in thine own opinions, from whence it must be cast out, before thou
canst truly and constantly be at ease.

XII. All those things, for matter of experience are usual and ordinary;
for their continuance but for a day; and for their matter, most base and
filthy. As they were in the days of those whom we have buried, so are they
now also, and no otherwise.

XIII. The things themselves that affect us, they stand without doors,
neither knowing anything themselves nor able to utter anything unto others
concerning themselves. What then is it, that passeth verdict on them? The
understanding.

XIV. As virtue and wickedness consist not in passion, but in action; so
neither doth the true good or evil of a reasonable charitable man consist
in passion, but in operation and action.

XV. To the stone that is cast up, when it comes down it is no hurt unto
it; as neither benefit, when it doth ascend.

XVI. Sift their minds and understandings, and behold what men they be,
whom thou dost stand in fear of what they shall judge of thee, what they
themselves judge of themselves.

XVII. All things that are in the world, are always in the estate
of alteration. Thou also art in a perpetual change, yea and under
corruption too, in some part: and so is the whole world.

XVIII. it is not thine, but another man’s sin. Why should it trouble
thee? Let him look to it, whose sin it is.

XIX. Of an operation and of a purpose there is an ending, or of an
action and of a purpose we say commonly, that it is at an end: from
opinion also there is an absolute cessation, which is as it were the death
of it. In all this there is no hurt. Apply this now to a man’s age, as
first, a child; then a youth, then a young man, then an old man; every
change from one age to another is a kind of death And all this while here
no matter of grief yet. Pass now unto that life first, that which thou
livedst under thy grandfather, then under thy mother, then under thy
father. And thus when through the whole course of thy life hitherto thou
hast found and observed many alterations, many changes, many kinds of
endings and cessations, put this question to thyself What matter of grief
or sorrow dost thou find in any of these? Or what doest thou suffer
through any of these? If in none of these, then neither in the ending and
consummation of thy whole life, which is also but a cessation and change.

XX. As occasion shall require, either to thine own understanding, or to
that of the universe, or to his, whom thou hast now to do with, let thy
refuge be with all speed. To thine own, that it resolve upon nothing
against justice. To that of the universe, that thou mayest remember, part
of whom thou art. Of his, that thou mayest consider whether in the estate
of ignorance, or of knowledge. And then also must thou call to mind, that
he is thy kinsman.

XXI. As thou thyself, whoever thou art, were made for the perfection and
consummation, being a member of it, of a common society; so must every
action of thine tend to the perfection and consummation of a life that is
truly sociable. What action soever of thine therefore that either
immediately or afar off, hath not reference to the common good, that is an
exorbitant and disorderly action; yea it is seditious; as one among the
people who from such and such a consent and unity, should factiously
divide and separate himself.

XXII. Children’s anger, mere babels; wretched souls bearing up dead
bodies, that they may not have their fall so soon: even as it is in that
common dirge song.

XXIII. Go to the quality of the cause from which the effect doth
proceed. Behold it by itself bare and naked, separated from all that is
material. Then consider the utmost bounds of time that that cause, thus
and thus qualified, can subsist and abide.

XXIV. Infinite are the troubles and miseries, that thou hast already
been put to, by reason of this only, because that for all happiness it did
not suffice thee, or, that thou didst not account it sufficient happiness,
that thy understanding did operate according to its natural constitution.

XXV. When any shall either impeach thee with false accusations, or
hatefully reproach thee, or shall use any such carriage towards thee, get
thee presently to their minds and understandings, and look in them, and
behold what manner of men they be. Thou shalt see, that there is no such
occasion why it should trouble thee, what such as they are think of thee.
Yet must thou love them still, for by nature they are thy friends. And the
Gods themselves, in those things that they seek from them as matters of
great moment, are well content, all manner of ways, as by dreams and
oracles, to help them as well as others.

XXVI. Up and down, from one age to another, go the ordinary things of
the world; being still the same. And either of everything in particular
before it come to pass, the mind of the universe doth consider with itself
and deliberate: and if so, then submit for shame unto the determination of
such an excellent understanding: or once for all it did resolve upon all
things in general; and since that whatsoever happens, happens by a
necessary consequence, and all things indivisibly in a manner and
inseparably hold one of another. In sum, either there is a God, and then
all is well; or if all things go by chance and fortune, yet mayest thou
use thine own providence in those things that concern thee properly; and
then art thou well.

XXVII. Within a while the earth shall cover us all, and then she herself
shall have her change. And then the course will be, from one period of
eternity unto another, and so a perpetual eternity. Now can any man that
shall consider with himself in his mind the several rollings or
successions of so many changes and alterations, and the swiftness of all
these rulings; can he otherwise but contemn in his heart and despise all
worldly things? The cause of the universe is as it were a strong torrent,
it carrieth all away.

XXVIII. And these your professed politicians, the only true practical
philosophers of the world, (as they think of themselves) so full of
affected gravity, or such professed lovers of virtue and honesty, what
wretches be they in very deed; how vile and contemptible in themselves? O
man! what ado doest thou keep? Do what thy nature doth now require.
Resolve upon it, if thou mayest: and take no thought, whether anybody
shall know it or no. Yea, but sayest thou, I must not expect a Plato’s
commonwealth. If they profit though never so little, I must be content;
and think much even of that little progress. Doth then any of them forsake
their former false opinions that I should think they profit? For without a
change of opinions, alas! what is all that ostentation, but mere
wretchedness of slavish minds, that groan privately, and yet would make a
show of obedience to reason, and truth? Go too now and tell me of
Alexander and Philippus, and Demetrius Phalereus. Whether they understood
what the common nature requireth, and could rule themselves or no, they
know best themselves. But if they kept a life, and swaggered; I (God be
thanked) am not bound to imitate them. The effect of true philosophy is,
unaffected simplicity and modesty. Persuade me not to ostentation and
vainglory.

XXIX. From some high place as it were to look down, and to behold
here flocks, and there sacrifices, without number; and all kind of
navigation; some in a rough and stormy sea, and some in a calm: the
general differences, or different estates of things, some, that are now
first upon being; the several and mutual relations of those things that
are together; and some other things that are at their last. Their lives
also, who were long ago, and theirs who shall be hereafter, and the
present estate and life of those many nations of barbarians that are now
in the world, thou must likewise consider in thy mind. And how many there
be, who never so much as heard of thy name, how many that will soon forget
it; how many who but even now did commend thee, within a very little while
perchance will speak ill of thee. So that neither fame, nor honour, nor
anything else that this world doth afford, is worth the while. The sum
then of all; whatsoever doth happen unto thee, whereof God is the cause,
to accept it contentedly: whatsoever thou doest, whereof thou thyself art
the cause, to do it justly: which will be, if both in thy resolution and
in thy action thou have no further end, than to do good unto others, as
being that, which by thy natural constitution, as a man, thou art bound
unto.

XXX. Many of those things that trouble and straiten thee, it is in thy
power to cut off, as wholly depending from mere conceit and opinion; and
then thou shalt have room enough.

XXXI. To comprehend the whole world together in thy mind, and the whole
course of this present age to represent it unto thyself, and to fix thy
thoughts upon the sudden change of every particular object. How short the
time is from the generation of anything, unto the dissolution of the same;
but how immense and infinite both that which was before the generation,
and that which after the generation of it shall be. All things that thou
seest, will soon be perished, and they that see their corruptions, will
soon vanish away themselves. He that dieth a hundred years old, and he
that dieth young, shall come all to one.

XXXII. What are their minds and understandings; and what the things that
they apply themselves unto: what do they love, and what do they hate for?
Fancy to thyself the estate of their souls openly to be seen. When they
think they hurt them shrewdly, whom they speak ill of; and when they think
they do them a very good turn, whom they commend and extol: O how full are
they then of conceit, and opinion!

XXXIII. Loss and corruption, is in very deed nothing else but change and
alteration; and that is it, which the nature of the universe doth most
delight in, by which, and according to which, whatsoever is done, is well
done. For that was the estate of worldly things from the beginning, and so
shall it ever be. Or wouldest thou rather say, that all things in the
world have gone ill from the beginning for so many ages, and shall ever go
ill? And then among so many deities, could no divine power be found all
this while, that could rectify the things of the world? Or is the world,
to incessant woes and miseries, for ever condemned?

XXXIV. How base and putrid, every common matter is! Water, dust, and
from the mixture of these bones, and all that loathsome stuff that our
bodies do consist of: so subject to be infected, and corrupted. And again
those other things that are so much prized and admired, as marble stones,
what are they, but as it were the kernels of the earth? gold and silver,
what are they, but as the more gross faeces of the earth? Thy most royal
apparel, for matter, it is but as it were the hair of a silly sheep, and
for colour, the very blood of a shell-fish; of this nature are all other
things. Thy life itself, is some such thing too; a mere exhalation of
blood: and it also, apt to be changed into some other common thing.

XXXV. Will this querulousness, this murmuring, this complaining and
dissembling never be at an end? What then is it, that troubleth thee? Doth
any new thing happen unto thee? What doest thou so wonder at? At the
cause, or the matter? Behold either by itself, is either of that weight
and moment indeed? And besides these, there is not anything. But thy duty
towards the Gods also, it is time thou shouldst acquit thyself of it with
more goodness and simplicity.

XXXVI. It is all one to see these things for a hundred of years together
or but for three years.

XXXVII. If he have sinned, his is the harm, not mine. But perchance he
hath not.

XXXVIII. Either all things by the providence of reason happen unto every
particular, as a part of one general body; and then it is against reason
that a part should complain of anything that happens for the good of the
whole; or if, according to Epicurus, atoms be the cause of all things and
that life be nothing else but an accidentary confusion of things, and
death nothing else, but a mere dispersion and so of all other things: what
doest thou trouble thyself for?

XXXIX. Sayest thou unto that rational part, Thou art dead; corruption
hath taken hold on thee? Doth it then also void excrements? Doth it like
either oxen, or sheep, graze or feed; that it also should be mortal, as
well as the body?

XL. Either the Gods can do nothing for us at all, or they can still and
allay all the distractions and distempers of thy mind. If they can do
nothing, why doest thou pray? If they can, why wouldst not thou rather
pray, that they will grant unto thee, that thou mayst neither fear, nor
lust after any of those worldly things which cause these distractions and
distempers of it? Why not rather, that thou mayst not at either their
absence or presence, be grieved and discontented: than either that thou
mayst obtain them, or that thou mayst avoid them? For certainly it must
needs be, that if the Gods can help us in anything, they may in this kind
also. But thou wilt say perchance, ‘In those things the Gods have given me
my liberty: and it is in mine own power to do what I will.’ But if thou
mayst use this liberty, rather to set thy mind at true liberty, than
wilfully with baseness and servility of mind to affect those things, which
either to compass or to avoid is not in thy power, wert not thou better?
And as for the Gods, who hath told thee, that they may not help us up even
in those things that they have put in our own power? whether it be so or
no, thou shalt soon perceive, if thou wilt but try thyself and pray. One
prayeth that he may compass his desire, to lie with such or such a one,
pray thou that thou mayst not lust to lie with her. Another how he may be
rid of such a one; pray thou that thou mayst so patiently bear with him,
as that thou have no such need to be rid of him. Another, that he may not
lose his child. Pray thou that thou mayst not fear to lose him. To this
end and purpose, let all thy prayer be, and see what will be the event.

XLI. ‘In my sickness’ (saith Epicurus of himself:) ‘my discourses were
not concerning the nature of my disease, neither was that, to them that
came to visit me, the subject of my talk; but in the consideration and
contemplation of that, which was of especial weight and moment, was all my
time bestowed and spent, and among others in this very thing, how my mind,
by a natural and unavoidable sympathy partaking in some sort with the
present indisposition of my body, might nevertheless keep herself free
from trouble, and in present possession of her own proper happiness.
Neither did I leave the ordering of my body to the physicians altogether
to do with me what they would, as though I expected any great matter from
them, or as though I thought it a matter of such great consequence, by
their means to recover my health: for my present estate, methought, liked
me very well, and gave me good content.’ Whether therefore in sickness (if
thou chance to sicken) or in what other kind of extremity soever,
endeavour thou also to be in thy mind so affected, as he doth report of
himself: not to depart from thy philosophy for anything that can befall
thee, nor to give ear to the discourses of silly people, and mere
naturalists.

XLII. It is common to all trades and professions to mind and intend that
only, which now they are about, and the instrument whereby they work.

XLIII. When at any time thou art offended with any one’s impudency, put
presently this question to thyself: ‘What? Is it then possible, that there
should not be any impudent men in the world! Certainly it is not
possible.’ Desire not then that which is impossible. For this one, (thou
must think) whosoever he be, is one of those impudent ones, that the world
cannot be without. So of the subtile and crafty, so of the perfidious, so
of every one that offendeth, must thou ever be ready to reason with
thyself. For whilst in general thou dost thus reason with thyself, that
the kind of them must needs be in the world, thou wilt be the better able
to use meekness towards every particular. This also thou shalt find of
very good use, upon every such occasion, presently to consider with
thyself, what proper virtue nature hath furnished man with, against such a
vice, or to encounter with a disposition vicious in this kind. As for
example, against the unthankful, it hath given goodness and meekness, as
an antidote, and so against another vicious in another kind some other
peculiar faculty. And generally, is it not in thy power to instruct him
better, that is in an error? For whosoever sinneth, doth in that decline
from his purposed end, and is certainly deceived, And again, what art thou
the worse for his sin? For thou shalt not find that any one of these,
against whom thou art incensed, hath in very deed done anything whereby
thy mind (the only true subject of thy hurt and evil) can be made worse
than it was. And what a matter of either grief or wonder is this, if he
that is unlearned, do the deeds of one that is unlearned? Should not thou
rather blame thyself, who, when upon very good grounds of reason, thou
mightst have thought it very probable, that such a thing would by such a
one be committed, didst not only not foresee it, but moreover dost wonder
at it, that such a thing should be. But then especially, when thou dost
find fault with either an unthankful, or a false man, must thou reflect
upon thyself. For without all question, thou thyself art much in fault, if
either of one that were of such a disposition, thou didst expect that he
should be true unto thee: or when unto any thou didst a good turn, thou
didst not there bound thy thoughts, as one that had obtained his end; nor
didst not think that from the action itself thou hadst received a full
reward of the good that thou hadst done. For what wouldst thou have more?
Unto him that is a man, thou hast done a good turn: doth not that suffice
thee? What thy nature required, that hast thou done. Must thou be rewarded
for it? As if either the eye for that it seeth, or the feet that they go,
should require satisfaction. For as these being by nature appointed for
such an use, can challenge no more, than that they may work according to
their natural constitution: so man being born to do good unto others
whensoever he doth a real good unto any by helping them out of error; or
though but in middle things, as in matter of wealth, life, preferment, and
the like, doth help to further their desires he doth that for which he was
made, and therefore can require no more.