THE FIFTH BOOK
I. In the morning when thou findest thyself unwilling to rise, consider
with thyself presently, it is to go about a man’s work that I am stirred
up. Am I then yet unwilling to go about that, for which I myself was born
and brought forth into this world? Or was I made for this, to lay me down,
and make much of myself in a warm bed? ‘O but this is pleasing.’ And was
it then for this that thou wert born, that thou mightest enjoy pleasure?
Was it not in very truth for this, that thou mightest always be busy and
in action? Seest thou not how all things in the world besides, how every
tree md plant, how sparrows and ants, spiders and bees: how all in their
kind are intent as it were orderly to perform whatsoever (towards the
preservation of this orderly universe) naturally doth become and belong
unto thin? And wilt not thou do that, which belongs unto a man to do? Wilt
not thou run to do that, which thy nature doth require? ‘But thou must
have some rest.’ Yes, thou must. Nature hath of that also, as well as of
eating and drinking, allowed thee a certain stint. But thou guest beyond
thy stint, and beyond that which would suffice, and in matter of action,
there thou comest short of that which thou mayest. It must needs be
therefore, that thou dost not love thyself, for if thou didst, thou
wouldst also love thy nature, and that which thy nature doth propose unto
herself as her end. Others, as many as take pleasure in their trade and
profession, can even pine themselves at their works, and neglect their
bodies and their food for it; and doest thou less honour thy nature, than
an ordinary mechanic his trade; or a good dancer his art? than a covetous
man his silver, and vainglorious man applause? These to whatsoever they
take an affection, can be content to want their meat and sleep, to further
that every one which he affects: and shall actions tending to the common
good of human society, seem more vile unto thee, or worthy of less respect
and intention?
II. How easy a thing is it for a man to put off from him all turbulent
adventitious imaginations, and presently to be in perfect rest and
tranquillity!
III. Think thyself fit and worthy to speak, or to do anything that is
according to nature, and let not the reproach, or report of some that may
ensue upon it, ever deter thee. If it be right and honest to be spoken or
done, undervalue not thyself so much, as to be discouraged from it. As for
them, they have their own rational over-ruling part, and their own proper
inclination: which thou must not stand and look about to take notice of,
but go on straight, whither both thine own particular, and the common
nature do lead thee; and the way of both these, is but one.
IV. I continue my course by actions according to nature, until I
fall and cease, breathing out my last breath into that air, by which
continually breathed in I did live; and falling upon that earth, out of
whose gifts and fruits my father gathered his seed, my mother her blood,
and my nurse her milk, out of which for so many years I have been
provided, both of meat and drink. And lastly, which beareth me that tread
upon it, and beareth with me that so many ways do abuse it, or so freely
make use of it, so many ways to so many ends.
V. No man can admire thee for thy sharp acute language, such is thy
natural disability that way. Be it so: yet there be many other good
things, for the want of which thou canst not plead the want or natural
ability. Let them be seen in thee, which depend wholly from thee;
sincerity, gravity, laboriousness, contempt of pleasures; be not
querulous, be Content with little, be kind, be free; avoid all
superfluity, all vain prattling; be magnanimous. Doest not thou perceive,
how many things there be, which notwithstanding any pretence of natural
indisposition and unfitness, thou mightest have performed and exhibited,
and yet still thou doest voluntarily continue drooping downwards? Or wilt
thou say that it is through defect of thy natural constitution, that thou
art constrained to murmur, to be base and wretched to flatter; now to
accuse, and now to please, and pacify thy body: to be vainglorious, to be
so giddy-headed., and unsettled in thy thoughts? nay (witnesses be the
Gods) of all these thou mightest have been rid long ago: only, this thou
must have been contented with, to have borne the blame of one that is
somewhat slow and dull, wherein thou must so exercise thyself, as one who
neither doth much take to heart this his natural defect, nor yet pleaseth
himself in it.
VI. Such there be, who when they have done a good turn to any, are ready
to set them on the score for it, and to require retaliation. Others there
be, who though they stand not upon retaliation, to require any, yet they
think with themselves nevertheless, that such a one is their debtor, and
they know as their word is what they have done. Others again there be, who
when they have done any such thing, do not so much as know what they have
done; but are like unto the vine, which beareth her grapes, and when once
she hath borne her own proper fruit, is contented and seeks for no further
recompense. As a horse after a race, and a hunting dog when he hath
hunted, and a bee when she hath made her honey, look not for applause and
commendation; so neither doth that man that rightly doth understand his
own nature when he hath done a good turn: but from one doth proceed to do
another, even as the vine after she hath once borne fruit in her own
proper season, is ready for another time. Thou therefore must be one of
them, who what they do, barely do it without any further thought, and are
in a manner insensible of what they do. ‘Nay but,’ will some reply
perchance, ‘this very thing a rational man is bound unto, to understand
what it is, that he doeth.’ For it is the property, say they, of one that
is naturally sociable, to be sensible, that he doth operate sociably: nay,
and to desire, that the party him self that is sociably dealt with, should
be sensible of it too. I answer, That which thou sayest is true indeed,
but the true meaning of that which is said, thou dost not understand. And
therefore art thou one of those first, whom I mentioned. For they also are
led by a probable appearance of reason. But if thou dost desire to
understand truly what it is that is said, fear not that thou shalt
therefore give over any sociable action.
VII. The form of the Athenians’ prayer did run thus: ‘O rain, rain, good
Jupiter, upon all the grounds and fields that belong to the Athenians.’
Either we should not pray at all, or thus absolutely and freely; and not
every one for himself in particular alone.
VIII. As we say commonly, The physician hath prescribed unto this man,
riding; unto another, cold baths; unto a third, to go barefoot: so it is
alike to say, The nature of the universe hath prescribed unto this man
sickness, or blindness, or some loss, or damage or some such thing. For
as there, when we say of a physician, that he hath prescribed anything,
our meaning is, that he hath appointed this for that, as subordinate and
conducing to health: so here, whatsoever doth happen unto any, is
ordained unto him as a thing subordinate unto the fates, and therefore do
we say of such things, that they do
συμβαίνειν, that is,
happen, or fall together; as of square stones, when either in walls, or
pyramids in a certain position they fit one another, and agree as it were
in an harmony, the masons say, that they do
συμβαίνειν; as if thou
shouldest say, fall together: so that in the general, though the things
be divers that make it, yet the consent or harmony itself is but one. And
as the whole world is made up of all the particular bodies of the world,
one perfect and complete body, of the same nature that particular bodies;
so is the destiny of particular causes and events one general one, of the
same nature that particular causes are. What I now say, even they that
are mere idiots are not ignorant of: for they say commonly
τοῦτο ἔφερεν
ἀυτῷ, that is, This his destiny hath brought upon
him. This therefore is by the fates properly and particularly brought
upon this, as that unto this in particular is by the physician
prescribed. These therefore let us accept of in like manner, as we do
those that are prescribed unto us our physicians. For them also in
themselves shall We find to contain many harsh things, but we
nevertheless, in hope of health, and recovery, accept of them. Let the
fulfilling and accomplishment of those things which the common nature
hath determined, be unto thee as thy health. Accept then, and be pleased
with whatsoever doth happen, though otherwise harsh and un-pleasing, as
tending to that end, to the health and welfare of the universe, and to
Jove’s happiness and prosperity. For this whatsoever it be, should not
have been produced, had it not conduced to the good of the universe. For
neither doth any ordinary particular nature bring anything to pass, that
is not to whatsoever is within the sphere of its own proper
administration and government agreeable and subordinate. For these two
considerations then thou must be well pleased with anything that doth
happen unto thee. First, because that for thee properly it was brought to
pass, and unto thee it was prescribed; and that from the very beginning
by the series and connection of the first causes, it hath ever had a
reference unto thee. And secondly, because the good success and perfect
welfare, and indeed the very continuance of Him, that is the
Administrator of the whole, doth in a manner depend on it. For the whole
(because whole, therefore entire and perfect) is maimed, and mutilated,
if thou shalt cut off anything at all, whereby the coherence, and
contiguity as of parts, so of causes, is maintained and preserved. Of
which certain it is, that thou doest (as much as lieth in thee) cut off,
and in some sort violently take somewhat away, as often as thou art
displeased with anything that happeneth.
IX. Be not discontented, be not disheartened, be not out of hope, if
often it succeed not so well with thee punctually and precisely to do all
things according to the right dogmata, but being once cast off, return
unto them again: and as for those many and more frequent occurrences,
either of worldly distractions, or human infirmities, which as a man thou
canst not but in some measure be subject unto, be not thou discontented
with them; but however, love and affect that only which thou dust return
unto: a philosopher’s life, and proper occupation after the most exact
manner. And when thou dust return to thy philosophy, return not unto it as
the manner of some is, after play and liberty as it were, to their
schoolmasters and pedagogues; but as they that have sore eyes to their
sponge and egg: or as another to his cataplasm; or as others to their
fomentations: so shalt not thou make it a matter of ostentation at all to
obey reason but of ease and comfort. And remember that philosophy
requireth nothing of thee, but what thy nature requireth, and wouldest
thou thyself desire anything that is not according to nature? for which of
these sayest thou; that which is according to nature or against it, is of
itself more kind and pleasing? Is it not for that respect especially, that
pleasure itself is to so many men’s hurt and overthrow, most prevalent,
because esteemed commonly most kind, and natural? But consider well
whether magnanimity rather, and true liberty, and true simplicity, and
equanimity, and holiness; whether these be not most kind and natural? And
prudency itself, what more kind and amiable than it, when thou shalt truly
consider with thyself, what it is through all the proper objects of thy
rational intellectual faculty currently to go on without any fall or
stumble? As for the things of the world, their true nature is in a manner
so involved with obscurity, that unto many philosophers, and those no mean
ones, they seemed altogether incomprehensible, and the Stoics themselves,
though they judge them not altogether incomprehensible, yet scarce and not
without much difficulty, comprehensible, so that all assent of ours is
fallible, for who is he that is infallible in his conclusions? From the
nature of things, pass now unto their subjects and matter: how temporary,
how vile are they I such as may be in the power and possession of some
abominable loose liver, of some common strumpet, of some notorious
oppressor and extortioner. Pass from thence to the dispositions of them
that thou doest ordinarily converse with, how hardly do we bear, even with
the most loving and amiable! that I may not say, how hard it is for us to
bear even with our own selves, in such obscurity, and impurity of things:
in such and so continual a flux both of the substances and time; both of
the motions themselves, and things moved; what it is that we can fasten
upon; either to honour, and respect especially; or seriously, and
studiously to seek after; I cannot so much as conceive For indeed they are
things contrary.
X. Thou must comfort thyself in the expectation of thy natural
dissolution, and in the meantime not grieve at the delay; but rest
contented in those two things. First, that nothing shall happen unto thee,
which is not according to the nature of the universe. Secondly, that it is
in thy power, to do nothing against thine own proper God, and inward
spirit. For it is not in any man’s power to constrain thee to transgress
against him.
XI. What is the use that now at this present I make of my soul? Thus
from time to time and upon all occasions thou must put this question to
thyself; what is now that part of mine which they call the rational
mistress part, employed about? Whose soul do I now properly possess? a
child’s? or a youth’s? a woman’s? or a tyrant’s? some brute, or some wild
beast’s soul?
XII. What those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are
esteemed good, thou mayest gather even from this. For if a man shall hear
things mentioned as good, which are really good indeed, such as are
prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude, after so much heard and
conceived, he cannot endure to hear of any more, for the word good is
properly spoken of them. But as for those which by the vulgar are esteemed
good, if he shall hear them mentioned as good, he doth hearken for more.
He is well contented to hear, that what is spoken by the comedian, is but
familiarly and popularly spoken, so that even the vulgar apprehend the
difference. For why is it else, that this offends not and needs not to be
excused, when virtues are styled good: but that which is spoken in
commendation of wealth, pleasure, or honour, we entertain it only as
merrily and pleasantly spoken? Proceed therefore, and inquire further,
whether it may not be that those things also which being mentioned upon
the stage were merrily, and with great applause of the multitude, scoffed
at with this jest, that they that possessed them had not in all the world
of their own, (such was their affluence and plenty) so much as a place
where to avoid their excrements. Whether, I say, those ought not also in
very deed to be much respected, and esteemed of, as the only things that
are truly good.
XIII. All that I consist of, is either form or matter. No corruption can
reduce either of these unto nothing: for neither did I of nothing become
a subsistent creature. Every part of mine then will by mutation be
disposed into a certain part of the whole world, and that in time into
another part; and so in infinitum; by which kind of mutation, I
also became what I am, and so did they that begot me, and they before
them, and so upwards in infinitum. For so we may be allowed to
speak, though the age and government of the world, be to some certain
periods of time limited, and confined.
XIV. Reason, and rational power, are faculties which content themselves
with themselves, and their own proper operations. And as for their first
inclination and motion, that they take from themselves. But their
progress is right to the end and object, which is in their way, as it
were, and lieth just before them: that is, which is feasible and
possible, whether it be that which at the first they proposed to
themselves, or no. For which reason also such actions are termed
κατορθώσεις, to
intimate the directness of the way, by which they are achieved. Nothing
must be thought to belong to a man, which doth not belong unto him as he
is a man. These, the event of purposes, are not things required in a man.
The nature of man doth not profess any such things. The final ends and
consummations of actions are nothing at all to a man’s nature. The end
therefore of a man, or the summum bonum whereby that end is
fulfilled, cannot consist in the consummation of actions purposed and
intended. Again, concerning these outward worldly things, were it so that
any of them did properly belong unto man, then would it not belong unto
man, to condemn them and to stand in opposition with them. Neither would
he be praiseworthy that can live without them; or he good, (if these were
good indeed) who of his own accord doth deprive himself of any of them.
But we see contrariwise, that the more a man doth withdraw himself from
these wherein external pomp and greatness doth consist, or any other like
these; or the better he doth bear with the loss of these, the better he
is accounted.
XV. Such as thy thoughts and ordinary cogitations are, such will thy
mind be in time. For the soul doth as it were receive its tincture from
the fancies, and imaginations. Dye it therefore and thoroughly soak it
with the assiduity of these cogitations. As for example. Wheresoever thou
mayest live, there it is in thy power to live well and happy. But thou
mayest live at the Court, there then also mayest thou live well and happy.
Again, that which everything is made for, he is also made unto that, and
cannot but naturally incline unto it. That which anything doth naturally
incline unto, therein is his end. Wherein the end of everything doth
consist, therein also doth his good and benefit consist. Society therefore
is the proper good of a rational creature. For that we are made for
society, it hath long since been demonstrated. Or can any man make any
question of this, that whatsoever is naturally worse and inferior, is
ordinarily subordinated to that which is better? and that those things
that are best, are made one for another? And those things that have souls,
are better than those that have none? and of those that have, those best
that have rational souls?
XVI. To desire things impossible is the part of a mad man. But it is a
thing impossible, that wicked man should not commit some such things.
Neither doth anything happen to any man, which in the ordinary course of
nature as natural unto him doth not happen. Again, the same things happen
unto others also. And truly, if either he that is ignorant that such a
thing hath happened unto him, or he that is ambitious to be commended for
his magnanimity, can be patient, and is not grieved: is it not a grievous
thing, that either ignorance, or a vain desire to please and to be
commended, should be more powerful and effectual than true prudence? As
for the things themselves, they touch not the soul, neither can they have
any access unto it: neither can they of themselves any ways either affect
it, or move it. For she herself alone can affect and move herself, and
according as the dogmata and opinions are, which she doth vouchsafe
herself; so are those things which, as accessories, have any co-existence
with her.
XVII. After one consideration, man is nearest unto us; as we are bound
to do them good, and to bear with them. But as he may oppose any of our
true proper actions, so man is unto me but as a thing indifferent: even as
the sun, or the wind, or some wild beast. By some of these it may be, that
some operation or other of mine, may be hindered; however, of my mind and
resolution itself, there can be no let or impediment, by reason of that
ordinary constant both exception (or reservation wherewith it inclineth)
and ready conversion of objects; from that which may not be, to that which
may be, which in the prosecution of its inclinations, as occasion serves,
it doth observe. For by these the mind doth turn and convert any
impediment whatsoever, to be her aim and purpose. So that what before was
the impediment, is now the principal object of her working; and that which
before was in her way, is now her readiest way.
XVIII. Honour that which is chiefest and most powerful in the world, and
that is it, which makes use of all things, and governs all things. So also
in thyself; honour that which is chiefest, and most powerful; and is of
one kind and nature with that which we now spake of. For it is the very
same, which being in thee, turneth all other things to its own use, and by
whom also thy life is governed.
XIX. That which doth not hurt the city itself; cannot hurt any citizen.
This rule thou must remember to apply and make use of upon every conceit
and apprehension of wrong. If the whole city be not hurt by this, neither
am I certainly. And if the whole be not, why should I make it my private
grievance? consider rather what it is wherein he is overseen that is
thought to have done the wrong. Again, often meditate how swiftly all
things that subsist, and all things that are done in the world, are
carried away, and as it were conveyed out of sight: for both the substance
themselves, we see as a flood, are in a continual flux; and all actions in
a perpetual change; and the causes themselves, subject to a thousand
alterations, neither is there anything almost, that may ever be said to be
now settled and constant. Next unto this, and which follows upon it,
consider both the infiniteness of the time already past, and the immense
vastness of that which is to come, wherein all things are to be resolved
and annihilated. Art not thou then a very fool, who for these things, art
either puffed up with pride, or distracted with cares, or canst find in
thy heart to make such moans as for a thing that would trouble thee for a
very long time? Consider the whole universe whereof thou art but a very
little part, and the whole age of the world together, whereof but a short
and very momentary portion is allotted unto thee, and all the fates and
destinies together, of which how much is it that comes to thy part and
share! Again: another doth trespass against me. Let him look to that. He
is master of his own disposition, and of his own operation. I for my part
am in the meantime in possession of as much, as the common nature would
have me to possess: and that which mine own nature would have me do, I do.
XX. Let not that chief commanding part of thy soul be ever subject to
any variation through any corporal either pain or pleasure, neither suffer
it to be mixed with these, but let it both circumscribe itself, and
confine those affections to their own proper parts and members. But if at
any time they do reflect and rebound upon the mind and understanding (as
in an united and compacted body it must needs;) then must thou not go
about to resist sense and feeling, it being natural. However let not thy
understanding to this natural sense and feeling, which whether unto our
flesh pleasant or painful, is unto us nothing properly, add an opinion of
either good or bad and all is well.
XXI. To live with the Gods. He liveth with the Gods, who at all times
affords unto them the spectacle of a soul, both contented and well pleased
with whatsoever is afforded, or allotted unto her; and performing
whatsoever is pleasing to that Spirit, whom (being part of himself) Jove
hath appointed to every man as his overseer and governor.
XXII. Be not angry neither with him whose breath, neither with him whose
arm holes, are offensive. What can he do? such is his breath naturally,
and such are his arm holes; and from such, such an effect, and such a
smell must of necessity proceed. ‘O, but the man (sayest thou) hath
understanding in him, and might of himself know, that he by standing near,
cannot choose but offend.’ And thou also (God bless thee!) hast
understanding. Let thy reasonable faculty, work upon his reasonable
faculty; show him his fault, admonish him. If he hearken unto thee, thou
hast cured him, and there will be no more occasion of anger.
XXIII. ‘Where there shall neither roarer be, nor harlot.’ Why so? As
thou dost purpose to live, when thou hast retired thyself to some such
place, where neither roarer nor harlot is: so mayest thou here. And if
they will not suffer thee, then mayest thou leave thy life rather than thy
calling, but so as one that doth not think himself anyways wronged. Only
as one would say, Here is a smoke; I will out of it. And what a great
matter is this! Now till some such thing force me out, I will continue
free; neither shall any man hinder me to do what I will, and my will shall
ever be by the proper nature of a reasonable and sociable creature,
regulated and directed.
XXIV. That rational essence by which the universe is governed, is for
community and society; and therefore hath it both made the things that are
worse, for the best, and hath allied and knit together those which are
best, as it were in an harmony. Seest thou not how it hath sub-ordinated,
and co-ordinated? and how it hath distributed unto everything according to
its worth? and those which have the pre-eminency and superiority above
all, hath it united together, into a mutual consent and agreement.
XXV. How hast thou carried thyself hitherto towards the Gods? towards
thy parents? towards thy brethren? towards thy wife? towards thy children?
towards thy masters? thy foster-fathers? thy friends? thy domestics? thy
servants? Is it so with thee, that hitherto thou hast neither by word or
deed wronged any of them? Remember withal through how many things thou
hast already passed, and how many thou hast been able to endure; so that
now the legend of thy life is full, and thy charge is accomplished. Again,
how many truly good things have certainly by thee been discerned? how many
pleasures, how many pains hast thou passed over with contempt? how many
things eternally glorious hast thou despised? towards how many perverse
unreasonable men hast thou carried thyself kindly, and discreetly?
XXVI. Why should imprudent unlearned souls trouble that which is
both learned, and prudent? And which is that that is so? she that
understandeth the beginning and the end, and hath the true knowledge of
that rational essence, that passeth through all things subsisting, and
through all ages being ever the same, disposing and dispensing as it were
this universe by certain periods of time.
XXVII. Within a very little while, thou wilt be either ashes, or a
sceletum; and a name perchance; and perchance, not so much as a name. And
what is that but an empty sound, and a rebounding echo? Those things which
in this life are dearest unto us, and of most account, they are in
themselves but vain, putrid, contemptible. The most weighty and serious,
if rightly esteemed, but as puppies, biting one another: or untoward
children, now laughing and then crying. As for faith, and modesty, and
justice, and truth, they long since, as one of the poets hath it, have
abandoned this spacious earth, and retired themselves unto heaven. What is
it then that doth keep thee here, if things sensible be so mutable and
unsettled? and the senses so obscure, and so fallible? and our souls
nothing but an exhalation of blood? and to be in credit among such, be but
vanity? What is it that thou dost stay for? an extinction, or a
translation; either of them with a propitious and contented mind. But
still that time come, what will content thee? what else, but to worship
and praise the Gods; and to do good unto men. To bear with them, and to
forbear to do them any wrong. And for all external things belonging either
to this thy wretched body, or life, to remember that they are neither
thine, nor in thy power.
XXVIII. Thou mayest always speed, if thou wilt but make choice of the
right way; if in the course both of thine opinions and actions, thou wilt
observe a true method. These two things be common to the souls, as of God,
so of men, and of every reasonable creature, first that in their own
proper work they cannot be hindered by anything: and secondly, that their
happiness doth consist in a disposition to, and in the practice of
righteousness; and that in these their desire is terminated.
XXIX. If this neither be my wicked act, nor an act anyways depending
from any wickedness of mine, and that by it the public is not hurt; what
doth it concern me? And wherein can the public be hurt? For thou must not
altogether be carried by conceit and common opinion: as for help thou must
afford that unto them after thy best ability, and as occasion shall
require, though they sustain damage, but in these middle or worldly
things; but however do not thou conceive that they are truly hurt thereby:
for that is not right. But as that old foster-father in the comedy, being
now to take his leave doth with a great deal of ceremony, require his
foster-child’s rhombus, or rattle-top, remembering nevertheless that it is
but a rhombus; so here also do thou likewise. For indeed what is all this
pleading and public bawling for at the courts? O man, hast thou forgotten
what those things are! yea but they are things that others much care for,
and highly esteem of. Wilt thou therefore be a fool too? Once I was; let
that suffice.
XXX. Let death surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may be
εὔμοιρος, or a happy man,
nevertheless.
For he is a happy man, who in his lifetime dealeth unto himself a happy
lot and portion. A happy lot and portion is, good inclinations of the
soul, good desires, good actions.
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