THE TWELFTH BOOK

I. Whatsoever thou doest hereafter aspire unto, thou mayest even now
enjoy and possess, if thou doest not envy thyself thine own happiness. And
that will be, if thou shalt forget all that is past, and for the future,
refer thyself wholly to the Divine Providence, and shalt bend and apply
all thy present thoughts and intentions to holiness and righteousness. To
holiness, in accepting willingly whatsoever is sent by the Divine
Providence, as being that which the nature of the universe hath appointed
unto thee, which also hath appointed thee for that, whatsoever it be. To
righteousness, in speaking the truth freely, and without ambiguity; and in
doing all things justly and discreetly. Now in this good course, let not
other men’s either wickedness, or opinion, or voice hinder thee: no, nor
the sense of this thy pampered mass of flesh: for let that which suffers,
look to itself. If therefore whensoever the time of thy departing shall
come, thou shalt readily leave all things, and shalt respect thy mind
only, and that divine part of thine, and this shall be thine only fear,
not that some time or other thou shalt cease to live, but thou shalt never
begin to live according to nature: then shalt thou be a man indeed, worthy
of that world, from which thou hadst thy beginning; then shalt thou cease
to be a stranger in thy country, and to wonder at those things that happen
daily, as things strange and unexpected, and anxiously to depend of divers
things that are not in thy power.

II. God beholds our minds and understandings, bare and naked from these
material vessels, and outsides, and all earthly dross. For with His simple
and pure understanding, He pierceth into our inmost and purest parts,
which from His, as it were by a water pipe and channel, first flowed and
issued. This if thou also shalt use to do, thou shalt rid thyself of that
manifold luggage, wherewith thou art round about encumbered. For he that
does regard neither his body, nor his clothing, nor his dwelling, nor any
such external furniture, must needs gain unto himself great rest and ease.
Three things there be in all, which thou doest consist of; thy body, thy
life, and thy mind. Of these the two former, are so far forth thine, as
that thou art bound to take care for them. But the third alone is that
which is properly thine. If then thou shalt separate from thyself, that is
from thy mind, whatsoever other men either do or say, or whatsoever thou
thyself hast heretofore either done or said; and all troublesome thoughts
concerning the future, and whatsoever, (as either belonging to thy body or
life:) is without the jurisdiction of thine own will, and whatsoever in
the ordinary course of human chances and accidents doth happen unto thee;
so that thy mind (keeping herself loose and free from all outward
coincidental entanglements; always in a readiness to depart:) shall live
by herself, and to herself, doing that which is just, accepting whatsoever
doth happen, and speaking the truth always; if, I say, thou shalt separate
from thy mind, whatsoever by sympathy might adhere unto it, and all time
both past and future, and shalt make thyself in all points and respects,
like unto Empedocles his allegorical sphere, ‘all round and circular,’
&c., and shalt think of no longer life than that which is now present:
then shalt thou be truly able to pass the remainder of thy days without
troubles and distractions; nobly and generously disposed, and in good
favour and correspondency, with that spirit which is within thee.

III. I have often wondered how it should come to pass, that every man
loving himself best, should more regard other men’s opinions concerning
himself than his own. For if any God or grave master standing by, should
command any of us to think nothing by himself but what he should presently
speak out; no man were able to endure it, though but for one day. Thus do
we fear more what our neighbours will think of us, than what we ourselves.

IV. how come it to pass that the Gods having ordered all other things
so well and so lovingly, should be overseen in this one only thing, that
whereas then hath been some very good men that have made many covenants as
it were with God and by many holy actions and outward services contracted
a kind of familiarity with Him; that these men when once they are dead,
should never be restored to life, but be extinct for ever. But this thou
mayest be sure of, that this (if it be so indeed) would never have been so
ordered by the Gods, had it been fit otherwise. For certainly it was
possible, had it been more just so and had it been according to nature,
the nature of the universe would easily have borne it. But now because it
is not so, (if so be that it be not so indeed) be therefore confident that
it was not fit it should be so for thou seest thyself, that now seeking
after this matter, how freely thou doest argue and contest with God. But
were not the Gods both just and good in the highest degree, thou durst not
thus reason with them. Now if just and good, it could not be that in the
creation of the world, they should either unjustly or unreasonably oversee
anything.

V. Use thyself even unto those things that thou doest at first despair
of. For the left hand we see, which for the most part lieth idle because
not used; yet doth it hold the bridle with more strength than the right,
because it hath been used unto it.

VI. Let these be the objects of thy ordinary meditation: to consider,
what manner of men both for soul and body we ought to be, whensoever death
shall surprise us: the shortness of this our mortal life: the immense
vastness of the time that hath been before, and will he after us: the
frailty of every worldly material object: all these things to consider,
and behold clearly in themselves, all disguisement of external outside
being removed and taken away. Again, to consider the efficient causes of
all things: the proper ends and references of all actions: what pain is in
itself; what pleasure, what death: what fame or honour, how every man is
the true and proper ground of his own rest and tranquillity, and that no
man can truly be hindered by any other: that all is but conceit and
opinion. As for the use of thy dogmata, thou must carry thyself in the
practice of them, rather like unto a pancratiastes, or one that at the
same time both fights and wrestles with hands and feet, than a gladiator.
For this, if he lose his sword that he fights with, he is gone: whereas
the other hath still his hand free, which he may easily turn and manage at
his will.

VII. All worldly things thou must behold and consider, dividing them
into matter, form, and reference, or their proper end.

VIII. How happy is man in this his power that hath been granted unto
him: that he needs not do anything but what God shall approve, and that he
may embrace contentedly, whatsoever God doth send unto him?

IX. Whatsoever doth happen in the ordinary course and consequence of
natural events, neither the Gods, (for it is not possible, that they
either wittingly or unwittingly should do anything amiss) nor men, (for it
is through ignorance, and therefore against their wills that they do
anything amiss) must be accused. None then must be accused.

X. How ridiculous and strange is he, that wonders at anything that
happens in this life in the ordinary course of nature!

XI. Either fate, (and that either an absolute necessity, and unavoidable
decree; or a placable and flexible Providence) or all is a mere casual
confusion, void of all order and government. If an absolute and
unavoidable necessity, why doest thou resist? If a placable and exorable
Providence, make thyself worthy of the divine help and assistance. If all
be a mere confusion without any moderator, or governor, then hast thou
reason to congratulate thyself; that in such a general flood of confusion
thou thyself hast obtained a reasonable faculty, whereby thou mayest
govern thine own life and actions. But if thou beest carried away with the
flood, it must be thy body perchance, or thy life, or some other thing
that belongs unto them that is carried away: thy mind and understanding
cannot. Or should it be so, that the light of a candle indeed is still
bright and lightsome until it be put out: and should truth, and
righteousness, and temperance cease to shine in thee whilest thou thyself
hast any being?

XII. At the conceit and apprehension that such and such a one hath
sinned, thus reason with thyself; What do I know whether this be a sin
indeed, as it seems to be? But if it be, what do I know but that he
himself hath already condemned himself for it? And that is all one as if a
man should scratch and tear his own face, an object of compassion rather
than of anger. Again, that he that would not have a vicious man to sin, is
like unto him that would not have moisture in the fig, nor children to
welp nor a horse to neigh, nor anything else that in the course of nature
is necessary. For what shall he do that hath such an habit? If thou
therefore beest powerful and eloquent, remedy it if thou canst.

XIII. If it be not fitting, do it not. If it be not true, speak it not.
Ever maintain thine own purpose and resolution free from all compulsion
and necessity.

XIV. Of everything that presents itself unto thee, to consider what the
true nature of it is, and to unfold it, as it were, by dividing it into
that which is formal: that which is material: the true use or end of it,
and the just time that it is appointed to last.

XV. It is high time for thee, to understand that there is somewhat in
thee, better and more divine than either thy passions, or thy sensual
appetites and affections. What is now the object of my mind, is it fear,
or suspicion, or lust, or any such thing? To do nothing rashly without
some certain end; let that be thy first care. The next, to have no other
end than the common good. For, alas! yet a little while, and thou art no
more: no more will any, either of those things that now thou seest, or of
those men that now are living, be any more. For all things are by nature
appointed soon to be changed, turned, and corrupted, that other things
might succeed in their room.

XVI. Remember that all is but opinion, and all opinion depends of the
mind. Take thine opinion away, and then as a ship that hath stricken in
within the arms and mouth of the harbour, a present calm; all things safe
and steady: a bay, not capable of any storms and tempests: as the poet
hath it.

XVII. No operation whatsoever it he, ceasing for a while, can be truly
said to suffer any evil, because it is at an end. Neither can he that is
the author of that operation; for this very respect, because his operation
is at an end, be said to suffer any evil. Likewise then, neither can the
whole body of all our actions (which is our life) if in time it cease, be
said to suffer any evil for this very reason, because it is at an end; nor
he truly be said to have been ill affected, that did put a period to this
series of actions. Now this time or certain period, depends of the
determination of nature: sometimes of particular nature, as when a man
dieth old; but of nature in general, however; the parts whereof thus
changing one after another, the whole world still continues fresh and new.
Now that is ever best and most seasonable, which is for the good of the
whole. Thus it appears that death of itself can neither be hurtful to any
in particular, because it is not a shameful thing (for neither is it a
thing that depends of our own will, nor of itself contrary to the common
good) and generally, as it is both expedient and seasonable to the whole,
that in that respect it must needs be good. It is that also, which is
brought unto us by the order and appointment of the Divine Providence; so
that he whose will and mind in these things runs along with the Divine
ordinance, and by this concurrence of his will and mind with the Divine
Providence, is led and driven along, as it were by God Himself; may truly
be termed and esteemed the
θεοφόρητος, or
divinely led and inspired.

XVIII. These three things thou must have always in a readiness: first
concerning thine own actions, whether thou doest nothing either idly, or
otherwise, than justice and equity do require: and concerning those things
that happen unto thee externally, that either they happen unto thee by
chance, or by providence; of which two to accuse either, is equally
against reason. Secondly, what like unto our bodies are whilest yet rude
and imperfect, until they be animated: and from their animation, until
their expiration: of what things they are compounded, and into what things
they shall be dissolved. Thirdly, how vain all things will appear unto
thee when, from on high as it were, looking down thou shalt contemplate
all things upon earth, and the wonderful mutability, that they are subject
unto: considering withal, the infinite both greatness and variety of
things aerial and things celestial that are round about it. And that as
often as thou shalt behold them, thou shalt still see the same: as the
same things, so the same shortness of continuance of all those things.
And, behold, these be the things that we are so proud and puffed up for.

XIX. Cast away from thee opinion, and thou art safe. And what is it that
hinders thee from casting of it away? When thou art grieved at anything,
hast thou forgotten that all things happen according to the nature of the
universe; and that him only it concerns, who is in fault; and moreover,
that what is now done, is that which from ever hath been done in the
world, and will ever be done, and is now done everywhere: how nearly all
men are allied one to another by a kindred not of blood, nor of seed, but
of the same mind. Thou hast also forgotten that every man’s mind partakes
of the Deity, and issueth from thence; and that no man can properly call
anything his own, no not his son, nor his body, nor his life; for that
they all proceed from that One who is the giver of all things: that all
things are but opinion; that no man lives properly, but that very instant
of time which is now present. And therefore that no man whensoever he
dieth can properly be said to lose any more, than an instant of time.

XX. Let thy thoughts ever run upon them, who once for some one thing or
other, were moved with extraordinary indignation; who were once in the
highest pitch of either honour, or calamity; or mutual hatred and enmity;
or of any other fortune or condition whatsoever. Then consider what’s now
become of all those things. All is turned to smoke; all to ashes, and a
mere fable; and perchance not so much as a fable. As also whatsoever is of
this nature, as Fabius Catulinus in the field; Lucius Lupus, and
Stertinius, at Baiæ Tiberius at Capreæ and Velius Rufus, and all such
examples of vehement prosecution in worldly matters; let these also run in
thy mind at the same time; and how vile every object of such earnest and
vehement prosecution is; and how much more agreeable to true philosophy it
is, for a man to carry himself in every matter that offers itself; justly,
and moderately, as one that followeth the Gods with all simplicity. For,
for a man to be proud and high conceited, that he is not proud and high
conceited, is of all kind of pride and presumption, the most intolerable.

XXI. To them that ask thee, Where hast thou seen the Gods, or how
knowest thou certainly that there be Gods, that thou art so devout in
their worship? I answer first of all, that even to the very eye, they are
in some manner visible and apparent. Secondly, neither have I ever seen
mine own soul, and yet I respect and honour it. So then for the Gods, by
the daily experience that I have of their power and providence towards
myself and others, I know certainly that they are, and therefore worship
them.

XXII. Herein doth consist happiness of life, for a man to know
thoroughly the true nature of everything; what is the matter, and what is
the form of it: with all his heart and soul, ever to do that which is
just, and to speak the truth. What then remaineth but to enjoy thy life in
a course and coherence of good actions, one upon another immediately
succeeding, and never interrupted, though for never so little a while?

XXIII. There is but one light of the sun, though it be intercepted by
walls and mountains, and other thousand objects. There is but one common
substance of the whole world, though it be concluded and restrained into
several different bodies, in number infinite. There is but one common
soul, though divided into innumerable particular essences and natures. So
is there but one common intellectual soul, though it seem to be divided.
And as for all other parts of those generals which we have mentioned, as
either sensitive souls or subjects, these of themselves (as naturally
irrational) have no common mutual reference one unto another, though many
of them contain a mind, or reasonable faculty in them, whereby they are
ruled and governed. But of every reasonable mind, this the particular
nature, that it hath reference to whatsoever is of her own kind, and
desireth to be united: neither can this common affection, or mutual unity
and correspondency, be here intercepted or divided, or confined to
particulars as those other common things are.

XXIV. What doest thou desire? To live long. What? To enjoy the
operations of a sensitive soul; or of the appetitive faculty? or wouldst
thou grow, and then decrease again? Wouldst thou long be able to talk, to
think and reason with thyself? Which of all these seems unto thee a worthy
object of thy desire? Now if of all these thou doest find that they be but
little worth in themselves, proceed on unto the last, which is, in all
things to follow God and reason. But for a man to grieve that by death he
shall be deprived of any of these things, is both against God and reason.

XXV. What a small portion of vast and infinite eternity it is, that is
allowed unto every one of us, and how soon it vanisheth into the general
age of the world: of the common substance, and of the common soul also
what a small portion is allotted unto us: and in what a little clod of the
whole earth (as it were) it is that thou doest crawl. After thou shalt
rightly have considered these things with thyself; fancy not anything else
in the world any more to be of any weight and moment but this, to do that
only which thine own nature doth require; and to conform thyself to that
which the common nature doth afford.

XXVI. What is the present estate of my understanding? For herein lieth
all indeed. As for all other things, they are without the compass of mine
own will: and if without the compass of my will, then are they as dead
things unto me, and as it were mere smoke.

XXVII. To stir up a man to the contempt of death this among other
things, is of good power and efficacy, that even they who esteemed
pleasure to be happiness, and pain misery, did nevertheless many of them
contemn death as much as any. And can death be terrible to him, to whom
that only seems good, which in the ordinary course of nature is
seasonable? to him, to whom, whether his actions be many or few, so they
be all good, is all one; and who whether he behold the things of the world
being always the same either for many years, or for few years only, is
altogether indifferent? O man! as a citizen thou hast lived, and conversed
in this great city the world. Whether just for so many years, or no, what
is it unto thee? Thou hast lived (thou mayest be sure) as long as the laws
and orders of the city required; which may be the common comfort of all.
Why then should it be grievous unto thee, if (not a tyrant, nor an unjust
judge, but) the same nature that brought thee in, doth now send thee out
of the world? As if the praetor should fairly dismiss him from the stage,
whom he had taken in to act a while. Oh, but the play is not yet at an
end, there are but three acts yet acted of it? Thou hast well said: for in
matter of life, three acts is the whole play. Now to set a certain time to
every man’s acting, belongs unto him only, who as first he was of thy
composition, so is now the cause of thy dissolution. As for thyself; thou
hast to do with neither. Go thy ways then well pleased and contented: for
so is He that dismisseth thee.