THE SIXTH BOOK

I. The matter itself, of which the universe doth consist, is of itself
very tractable and pliable. That rational essence that doth govern it,
hath in itself no cause to do evil. It hath no evil in itself; neither can
it do anything that is evil: neither can anything be hurt by it. And all
things are done and determined according to its will and prescript.

II. Be it all one unto thee, whether half frozen or well warm; whether
only slumbering, or after a full sleep; whether discommended or commended
thou do thy duty: or whether dying or doing somewhat else; for that also
‘to die,’ must among the rest be reckoned as one of the duties and actions
of our lives.

III. Look in, let not either the proper quality, or the true worth of
anything pass thee, before thou hast fully apprehended it.

IV. All substances come soon to their change, and either they shall
be resolved by way of exhalation (if so be that all things shall be
reunited into one substance), or as others maintain, they shall be
scattered and dispersed. As for that Rational Essence by which all things
are governed, as it best understandeth itself, both its own disposition,
and what it doth, and what matter it hath to do with and accordingly doth
all things; so we that do not, no wonder, if we wonder at many things, the
reasons whereof we cannot comprehend.

V. The best kind of revenge is, not to become like unto them.

VI. Let this be thy only joy, and thy only comfort, from one sociable
kind action without intermission to pass unto another, God being ever in
thy mind.

VII. The rational commanding part, as it alone can stir up and turn
itself; so it maketh both itself to be, and everything that happeneth, to
appear unto itself, as it will itself.

VIII. According to the nature of the universe all things particular are
determined, not according to any other nature, either about compassing and
containing; or within, dispersed and contained; or without, depending.
Either this universe is a mere confused mass, and an intricate context of
things, which shall in time be scattered and dispersed again: or it is an
union consisting of order, and administered by Providence. If the first,
why should I desire to continue any longer in this fortuit confusion and
commixtion? or why should I take care for anything else, but that as soon
as may be I may be earth again? And why should I trouble myself any more
whilst I seek to please the Gods? Whatsoever I do, dispersion is my end,
and will come upon me whether I will or no. But if the latter be, then am
not I religious in vain; then will I be quiet and patient, and put my
trust in Him, who is the Governor of all.

IX. Whensoever by some present hard occurrences thou art constrained to
be in some sort troubled and vexed, return unto thyself as soon as may be,
and be not out of tune longer than thou must needs. For so shalt thou be
the better able to keep thy part another time, and to maintain the
harmony, if thou dost use thyself to this continually; once out, presently
to have recourse unto it, and to begin again.

X. If it were that thou hadst at one time both a stepmother, and
a natural mother living, thou wouldst honour and respect her also;
nevertheless to thine own natural mother would thy refuge, and recourse be
continually. So let the court and thy philosophy be unto thee. Have
recourse unto it often, and comfort thyself in her, by whom it is that
those other things are made tolerable unto thee, and thou also in those
things not intolerable unto others.

XI. How marvellous useful it is for a man to represent unto himself
meats, and all such things that are for the mouth, under a right
apprehension and imagination! as for example: This is the carcass of a
fish; this of a bird; and this of a hog. And again more generally; This
phalernum, this excellent highly commended wine, is but the bare juice of
an ordinary grape. This purple robe, but sheep’s hairs, dyed with the
blood of a shellfish. So for coitus, it is but the attrition of an
ordinary base entrail, and the excretion of a little vile snivel, with a
certain kind of convulsion: according to Hippocrates his opinion. How
excellent useful are these lively fancies and representations of things,
thus penetrating and passing through the objects, to make their true
nature known and apparent! This must thou use all thy life long, and upon
all occasions: and then especially, when matters are apprehended as of
great worth and respect, thy art and care must be to uncover them, and to
behold their vileness, and to take away from them all those serious
circumstances and expressions, under which they made so grave a show. For
outward pomp and appearance is a great juggler; and then especially art
thou most in danger to be beguiled by it, when (to a man’s thinking) thou
most seemest to be employed about matters of moment.

XII. See what Crates pronounceth concerning Xenocrates himself.

XIII. Those things which the common sort of people do admire, are most
of them such things as are very general, and may be comprehended under
things merely natural, or naturally affected and qualified: as stones,
wood, figs, vines, olives. Those that be admired by them that are more
moderate and restrained, are comprehended under things animated: as flocks
and herds. Those that are yet more gentle and curious, their admiration is
commonly confined to reasonable creatures only; not in general as they are
reasonable, but as they are capable of art, or of some craft and subtile
invention: or perchance barely to reasonable creatures; as they that
delight in the possession of many slaves. But he that honours a reasonable
soul in general, as it is reasonable and naturally sociable, doth little
regard anything else: and above all things is careful to preserve his own,
in the continual habit and exercise both of reason and sociableness: and
thereby doth co-operate with him, of whose nature he doth also
participate; God.

XIV. Some things hasten to be, and others to be no more. And even
whatsoever now is, some part thereof hath already perished. Perpetual
fluxes and alterations renew the world, as the perpetual course of time
doth make the age of the world (of itself infinite) to appear always fresh
and new. In such a flux and course of all things, what of these things
that hasten so fast away should any man regard, since among all there is
not any that a man may fasten and fix upon? as if a man would settle his
affection upon some ordinary sparrow living by him, who is no sooner seen,
than out of sight. For we must not think otherwise of our lives, than as a
mere exhalation of blood, or of an ordinary respiration of air. For what
in our common apprehension is, to breathe in the air and to breathe it out
again, which we do daily: so much is it and no more, at once to breathe
out all thy respirative faculty into that common air from whence but
lately (as being but from yesterday, and to-day), thou didst first breathe
it in, and with it, life.

XV. Not vegetative spiration, it is not surely (which plants have) that
in this life should be so dear unto us; nor sensitive respiration, the
proper life of beasts, both tame and wild; nor this our imaginative
faculty; nor that we are subject to be led and carried up and down by the
strength of our sensual appetites; or that we can gather, and live
together; or that we can feed: for that in effect is no better, than that
we can void the excrements of our food. What is it then that should be
dear unto us? to hear a clattering noise? if not that, then neither to be
applauded by the tongues of men. For the praises of many tongues, is in
effect no better than the clattering of so many tongues. If then neither
applause, what is there remaining that should be dear unto thee? This I
think: that in all thy motions and actions thou be moved, and restrained
according to thine own true natural constitution and Construction only.
And to this even ordinary arts and professions do lead us. For it is that
which every art doth aim at, that whatsoever it is, that is by art
effected and prepared, may be fit for that work that it is prepared for.
This is the end that he that dresseth the vine, and he that takes upon him
either to tame colts, or to train up dogs, doth aim at. What else doth the
education of children, and all learned professions tend unto? Certainly
then it is that, which should be dear unto us also. If in this particular
it go well with thee, care not for the obtaining of other things. But is
it so, that thou canst not but respect other things also? Then canst not
thou truly be free? then canst thou not have self-content: then wilt thou
ever be subject to passions. For it is not possible, but that thou must be
envious, and jealous, and suspicious of them whom thou knowest can bereave
thee of such things; and again, a secret underminer of them, whom thou
seest in present possession of that which is dear unto thee. To be short,
he must of necessity be full of confusion within himself, and often accuse
the Gods, whosoever stands in need of these things. But if thou shalt
honour and respect thy mind only, that will make thee acceptable towards
thyself, towards thy friends very tractable; and conformable and
concordant with the Gods; that is, accepting with praises whatsoever they
shall think good to appoint and allot unto thee.

XVI. Under, above, and about, are the motions of the elements; but
the motion of virtue, is none of those motions, but is somewhat more
excellent and divine. Whose way (to speed and prosper in it) must be
through a way, that is not easily comprehended.

XVII. Who can choose but wonder at them? They will not speak well of
them that are at the same time with them, and live with them; yet they
themselves are very ambitious, that they that shall follow, whom they have
never seen, nor shall ever see, should speak well of them. As if a man
should grieve that he hath not been commended by them, that lived before
him.

XVIII. Do not ever conceive anything impossible to man, which by thee
cannot, or not without much difficulty be effected; but whatsoever in
general thou canst Conceive possible and proper unto any man, think that
very possible unto thee also.

XIX. Suppose that at the palestra somebody hath all to-torn thee with
his nails, and hath broken thy head. Well, thou art wounded. Yet thou dost
not exclaim; thou art not offended with him. Thou dost not suspect him for
it afterwards, as one that watcheth to do thee a mischief. Yea even then,
though thou dost thy best to save thyself from him, yet not from him as an
enemy. It is not by way of any suspicious indignation, but by way of
gentle and friendly declination. Keep the same mind and disposition in
other parts of thy life also. For many things there be, which we must
conceit and apprehend, as though we had had to do with an antagonist at
the palestra. For as I said, it is very possible for us to avoid and
decline, though we neither suspect, nor hate.

XX. If anybody shall reprove me, and shall make it apparent unto me,
that in any either opinion or action of mine I do err, I will most gladly
retract. For it is the truth that I seek after, by which I am sure that
never any man was hurt; and as sure, that he is hurt that continueth in
any error, or ignorance whatsoever.

XXI. I for my part will do what belongs unto me; as for other things,
whether things unsensible or things irrational; or if rational, yet
deceived and ignorant of the true way, they shall not trouble or distract
me. For as for those creatures which are not endued with reason and all
other things and-matters of the world whatsoever I freely, and generously,
as one endued with reason, of things that have none, make use of them. And
as for men, towards them as naturally partakers of the same reason, my
care is to carry myself sociably. But whatsoever it is that thou art
about, remember to call upon the Gods. And as for the time how long thou
shalt live to do these things, let it be altogether indifferent unto thee,
for even three such hours are sufficient.

XXII. Alexander of Macedon, and he that dressed his mules, when once
dead both came to one. For either they were both resumed into those
original rational essences from whence all things in the world are
propagated; or both after one fashion were scattered into atoms.

XXIII Consider how many different things, whether they concern our
bodies, or our souls, in a moment of time come to pass in every one of us,
and so thou wilt not wonder if many more things or rather all things that
are done, can at one time subsist, and coexist in that both one and
general, which we call the world.

XXIV. if any should put this question unto thee, how this word Antoninus
is written, wouldst thou not presently fix thine intention upon it, and
utter out in order every letter of it? And if any shall begin to gainsay
thee, and quarrel with thee about it; wilt thou quarrel with him again, or
rather go on meekly as thou hast begun, until thou hast numbered out every
letter? Here then likewise remember, that every duty that belongs unto a
man doth consist of some certain letters or numbers as it were, to which
without any noise or tumult keeping thyself thou must orderly proceed to
thy proposed end, forbearing to quarrel with him that would quarrel and
fall out with thee.

XXV. Is it not a cruel thing to forbid men to affect those things, which
they conceive to agree best with their own natures, and to tend most to
their own proper good and behoof? But thou after a sort deniest them this
liberty, as often as thou art angry with them for their sins. For surely
they are led unto those sins whatsoever they be, as to their proper good
and commodity. But it is not so (thou wilt object perchance). Thou
therefore teach them better, and make it appear unto them: but be not thou
angry with them.

XXVI. Death is a cessation from the impression of the senses, the
tyranny of the passions, the errors of the mind, and the servitude of the
body.

XXVII. If in this kind of life thy body be able to hold out, it is a
shame that thy soul should faint first, and give over, take heed, lest of
a philosopher thou become a mere Cæsar in time, and receive a new
tincture from the court. For it may happen if thou dost not take heed.
Keep thyself therefore, truly simple, good, sincere, grave, free from all
ostentation, a lover of that which is just, religious, kind,
tender-hearted, strong and vigorous to undergo anything that becomes thee.
Endeavour to continue such, as philosophy (hadst thou wholly and
constantly applied thyself unto it) would have made, and secured thee.
Worship the Gods, procure the welfare of men, this life is short.
Charitable actions, and a holy disposition, is the only fruit of this
earthly life.

XXVIII. Do all things as becometh the disciple of Antoninus Pius.
Remember his resolute constancy in things that were done by him according
to reason, his equability in all things, his sanctity; the cheerfulness of
his countenance, his sweetness, and how free he was from all vainglory;
how careful to come to the true and exact knowledge of matters in hand,
and how he would by no means give over till he did fully, and plainly
understand the whole state of the business; and how patiently, and without
any contestation he would bear with them, that did unjustly condemn him:
how he would never be over-hasty in anything, nor give ear to slanders and
false accusations, but examine and observe with best diligence the several
actions and dispositions of men. Again, how he was no backbiter, nor
easily frightened, nor suspicious, and in his language free from all
affectation and curiosity: and how easily he would content himself with
few things, as lodging, bedding, clothing, and ordinary nourishment, and
attendance. How able to endure labour, how patient; able through his spare
diet to continue from morning to evening without any necessity of
withdrawing before his accustomed hours to the necessities of nature: his
uniformity and constancy in matter of friendship. How he would bear with
them that with all boldness and liberty opposed his opinions; and even
rejoice if any man could better advise him: and lastly, how religious he
was without superstition. All these things of him remember, that
whensoever thy last hour shall come upon thee, it may find thee, as it did
him, ready for it in the possession of a good conscience.

XXIX. Stir up thy mind, and recall thy wits again from thy natural
dreams, and visions, and when thou art perfectly awoken, and canst
perceive that they were but dreams that troubled thee, as one newly
awakened out of another kind of sleep look upon these worldly things with
the same mind as thou didst upon those, that thou sawest in thy sleep.

XXX. I consist of body and soul. Unto my body all things are
indifferent, for of itself it cannot affect one thing more than another
with apprehension of any difference; as for my mind, all things which are
not within the verge of her own operation, are indifferent unto her, and
for her own operations, those altogether depend of her; neither does she
busy herself about any, but those that are present; for as for future and
past operations, those also are now at this present indifferent unto her.

XXXI. As long as the foot doth that which belongeth unto it to do, and
the hand that which belongs unto it, their labour, whatsoever it be, is
not unnatural. So a man as long as he doth that which is proper unto a
man, his labour cannot be against nature; and if it be not against nature,
then neither is it hurtful unto him. But if it were so that happiness did
consist in pleasure: how came notorious robbers, impure abominable livers,
parricides, and tyrants, in so large a measure to have their part of
pleasures?

XXXII. Dost thou not see, how even those that profess mechanic arts,
though in some respect they be no better than mere idiots, yet they stick
close to the course of their trade, neither can they find in their heart
to decline from it: and is it not a grievous thing that an architect, or a
physician shall respect the course and mysteries of their profession, more
than a man the proper course and condition of his own nature, reason,
which is common to him and to the Gods?

XXXIII. Asia, Europe; what are they, but as corners of the whole world;
of which the whole sea, is but as one drop; and the great Mount Athos, but
as a clod, as all present time is but as one point of eternity. All, petty
things; all things that are soon altered, soon perished. And all things
come from one beginning; either all severally and particularly deliberated
and resolved upon, by the general ruler and governor of all; or all by
necessary consequence. So that the dreadful hiatus of a gaping lion, and
all poison, and all hurtful things, are but (as the thorn and the mire)
the necessary consequences of goodly fair things. Think not of these
therefore, as things contrary to those which thou dost much honour, and
respect; but consider in thy mind the true fountain of all.

XXXIV He that seeth the things that are now, hath Seen all that either
was ever, or ever shall be, for all things are of one kind; and all like
one unto another. Meditate often upon the connection of all things in the
world; and upon the mutual relation that they have one unto another. For
all things are after a sort folded and involved one within another, and by
these means all agree well together. For one thing is consequent unto
another, by local motion, by natural conspiration and agreement, and by
substantial union, or, reduction of all substances into one.

XXXV. Fit and accommodate thyself to that estate and to those
occurrences, which by the destinies have been annexed unto thee; and love
those men whom thy fate it is to live with; but love them truly. An
instrument, a tool, an utensil, whatsoever it be, if it be fit for the
purpose it was made for, it is as it should be though he perchance that
made and fitted it, be out of sight and gone. But in things natural, that
power which hath framed and fitted them, is and abideth within them still:
for which reason she ought also the more to be respected, and we are the
more obliged (if we may live and pass our time according to her purpose
and intention) to think that all is well with us, and according to our own
minds. After this manner also, and in this respect it is, that he that is
all in all doth enjoy his happiness.

XXXVI. What things soever are not within the proper power and
jurisdiction of thine own will either to compass or avoid, if thou shalt
propose unto thyself any of those things as either good, or evil; it must
needs be that according as thou shalt either fall into that which thou
dost think evil, or miss of that which thou dost think good, so wilt thou
be ready both to complain of the Gods, and to hate those men, who either
shall be so indeed, or shall by thee be suspected as the cause either of
thy missing of the one, or falling into the other. And indeed we must
needs commit many evils, if we incline to any of these things, more or
less, with an opinion of any difference. But if we mind and fancy those
things only, as good and bad, which wholly depend of our own wills, there
is no more occasion why we should either murmur against the Gods, or be at
enmity with any man.

XXXVII. We all work to one effect, some willingly, and with a rational
apprehension of what we do: others without any such knowledge. As I think
Heraclitus in a place speaketh of them that sleep, that even they do work
in their kind, and do confer to the general operations of the world. One
man therefore doth co-operate after one sort, and another after another
sort; but even he that doth murmur, and to his power doth resist and
hinder; even he as much as any doth co-operate. For of such also did the
world stand in need. Now do thou consider among which of these thou wilt
rank thyself. For as for him who is the Administrator of all, he will make
good use of thee whether thou wilt or no, and make thee (as a part and
member of the whole) so to co-operate with him, that whatsoever thou
doest, shall turn to the furtherance of his own counsels, and resolutions.
But be not thou for shame such a part of the whole, as that vile and
ridiculous verse (which Chrysippus in a place doth mention) is a part of
the comedy.

XXXVIII. Doth either the sun take upon him to do that which belongs to
the rain? or his son Aesculapius that, which unto the earth doth properly
belong? How is it with every one of the stars in particular? Though they
all differ one from another, and have their several charges and functions
by themselves, do they not all nevertheless concur and co- operate to one
end?

XXXIX. If so be that the Gods have deliberated in particular of those
things that should happen unto me, I must stand to their deliberation, as
discrete and wise. For that a God should be an imprudent God, is a thing
hard even to conceive: and why should they resolve to do me hurt? for what
profit either unto them or the universe (which they specially take care
for) could arise from it? But if so be that they have not deliberated of
me in particular, certainly they have of the whole in general, and those
things which in consequence and coherence of this general deliberation
happen unto me in particular, I am bound to embrace and accept of. But if
so be that they have not deliberated at all (which indeed is very
irreligious for any man to believe: for then let us neither sacrifice, nor
pray, nor respect our oaths, neither let us any more use any of those
things, which we persuaded of the presence and secret conversation of the
Gods among us, daily use and practise:) but, I say, if so be that they
have not indeed either in general, or particular deliberated of any of
those things, that happen unto us in this world; yet God be thanked, that
of those things that concern myself, it is lawful for me to deliberate
myself, and all my deliberation is but concerning that which may be to me
most profitable. Now that unto every one is most profitable, which is
according to his own constitution and nature. And my nature is, to be
rational in all my actions and as a good, and natural member of a city and
commonwealth, towards my fellow members ever to be sociably and kindly
disposed and affected. My city and country as I am Antoninus, is Rome; as
a man, the whole world. Those things therefore that are expedient and
profitable to those cities, are the only things that are good and
expedient for me.

XL. Whatsoever in any kind doth happen to any one, is expedient to the
whole. And thus much to content us might suffice, that it is expedient for
the whole in general. But yet this also shalt thou generally perceive, if
thou dost diligently take heed, that whatsoever doth happen to any one man
or men…. And now I am content that the word expedient, should more
generally be understood of those things which we otherwise call middle
things, or things indifferent; as health, wealth, and the like.

XLI. As the ordinary shows of the theatre and of other such places,
when thou art presented with them, affect thee; as the same things still
seen, and in the same fashion, make the sight ingrateful and tedious; so
must all the things that we see all our life long affect us. For all
things, above and below, are still the same, and from the same causes.
When then will there be an end?

XLII. Let the several deaths of men of all sorts, and of all sorts of
professions, and of all sort of nations, be a perpetual object of thy
thoughts,… so that thou mayst even come down to Philistio, Phœbus, and
Origanion. Pass now to other generations. Thither shall we after many
changes, where so many brave orators are; where so many grave
philosophers; Heraclitus, Pythagoras, Socrates. Where so many heroes of
the old times; and then so many brave captains of the latter times; and so
many kings. After all these, where Eudoxus, Hipparchus, Archimedes; where
so many other sharp, generous, industrious, subtile, peremptory
dispositions; and among others, even they, that have been the greatest
scoffers and deriders of the frailty and brevity of this our human life;
as Menippus, and others, as many as there have been such as he. Of all
these consider, that they long since are all dead, and gone. And what do
they suffer by it! Nay they that have not so much as a name remaining,
what are they the worse for it? One thing there is, and that only, which
is worth our while in this world, and ought by us much to be esteemed; and
that is, according to truth and righteousness, meekly and lovingly to
converse with false, and unrighteous men.

XLIII. When thou wilt comfort and cheer thyself, call to mind the
several gifts and virtues of them, whom thou dost daily converse with; as
for example, the industry of the one; the modesty of another; the
liberality of a third; of another some other thing. For nothing can so
much rejoice thee, as the resemblances and parallels of several virtues,
visible and eminent in the dispositions of those who live with thee;
especially when, all at once, as near as may be, they represent themselves
unto thee. And therefore thou must have them always in a readiness.

XLIV. Dost thou grieve that thou dost weigh but so many pounds, and not
three hundred rather? Just as much reason hast thou to grieve that thou
must live but so many years, and not longer. For as for bulk and substance
thou dost content thyself with that proportion of it that is allotted unto
thee, so shouldst thou for time.

XLV. Let us do our best endeavours to persuade them; but however, if
reason and justice lead thee to it, do it, though they be never so much
against it. But if any shall by force withstand thee, and hinder thee in
it, convert thy virtuous inclination from one object unto another, from
justice to contented equanimity, and cheerful patience: so that what in
the one is thy hindrance, thou mayst make use of it for the exercise of
another virtue: and remember that it was with due exception, and
reservation, that thou didst at first incline and desire. For thou didst
not set thy mind upon things impossible. Upon what then? that all thy
desires might ever be moderated with this due kind of reservation. And
this thou hast, and mayst always obtain, whether the thing desired be in
thy power or no. And what do I care for more, if that for which I was born
and brought forth into the world (to rule all my desires with reason and
discretion) may be?

XLVI. The ambitious supposeth another man’s act, praise and applause, to
be his own happiness; the voluptuous his own sense and feeling; but he
that is wise, his own action.

XLVII. It is in thy power absolutely to exclude all manner of conceit
and opinion, as concerning this matter; and by the same means, to exclude
all grief and sorrow from thy soul. For as for the things and objects
themselves, they of themselves have no such power, whereby to beget and
force upon us any opinion at all.

XLVIII. Use thyself when any man speaks unto thee, so to hearken unto
him, as that in the interim thou give not way to any other thoughts; that
so thou mayst (as far as is possible) seem fixed and fastened to his very
soul, whosoever he be that speaks unto thee.

XLIX. That which is not good for the bee-hive, cannot be good for the
bee.

L. Will either passengers, or patients, find fault and complain, either
the one if they be well carried, or the others if well cured? Do they take
care for any more than this; the one, that their shipmaster may bring them
safe to land, and the other, that their physician may effect their
recovery?

LI. How many of them who came into the world at the same time when I
did, are already gone out of it?

LII. To them that are sick of the jaundice, honey seems bitter; and to
them that are bitten by a mad dog, the water terrible; and to children, a
little ball seems a fine thing. And why then should I be angry? or do I
think that error and false opinion is less powerful to make men
transgress, than either choler, being immoderate and excessive, to cause
the jaundice; or poison, to cause rage?

LIII. No man can hinder thee to live as thy nature doth require. Nothing
can happen unto thee, but what the common good of nature doth require.

LIV. What manner of men they be whom they seek to please, and what to
get, and by what actions: how soon time will cover and bury all things,
and how many it hath already buried!