← Table of ContentsThe Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus: A new rendering based on the Foulis translation of 1742

BOOK XII.

1. All that you desire to compass by devious means is yours already,

if you will but freely take it. That is to say, if you will leave

behind you all that is past, commit the future to Providence, and

regulate the present in piety and justice. In piety that you may love

your appointed lot; for Nature gave it to you and you to it. In

justice, that you may speak the truth with-out constraint or guile;

that you may do what is lawful and proper; that you may not be

hindered by the wickedness of others, or by their opinion, or their

talk, or by any sensation of this poor surrounding body, for the part

concerned may look to that. If then, now that you are near your exit,

setting behind you all other things, you will hold alone in reverence

your ruling part, the spirit divine within you; if you will cease to

dread the end of life, but rather fear to miss the beginning of life

according to Nature, you will be a man, worthy of the ordered Universe

that produced you; you will cease to be a stranger in your own

country, gaping in wonder at every daily happening, caught up by this

trifle or by that.

2. God beholds all souls bare and stripped of these corporeal vessels,

husk, and refuse. By his intelligence alone he touches that only which

has been instilled by him and has emanated from himself. If you would

but inure yourself to do the like, you would be eased of many a

torment. For he who regards not the surrounding flesh will not waste

his leisure in thinking about vesture, house, or fame, or other mere

external furniture or accoutrement.

3. Three parts there are of which you are compact; body, soul,

intelligence. Of these the two first are yours in so far as they must

have your care; the third only is properly your own. And if you will

cast away from yourself, that is from your mind, all that others do or

say, all that you yourself have done or said, all your fears for the

future, all the uncontrollable accompaniments of the body that

envelops you and of its congenital soul, and all that is whirled in

the besieging vortex that races without, so that your intellectual

power, made pure, and set above the accidents of fate, may live its

own life in freedom, just, resigned, veracious; if, I repeat, you cast

out from your soul all comes of excessive attachment either to the

past or to the future, then you will become in the words of

Empedocles,

A faultless sphere rejoiced in endless rest.

You will study to live the only life there is to live, to wit the

present; and you will be able, till death shall come, to spend what

remains of life in noble tranquillity, at peace with the spirit

within.

4. I have wondered often how it comes that, while every man loves

himself beyond all others, yet he holds his own opinion of himself in

less esteem than the opinion of others. Yet, if a God or some wise

teacher came and ordered a man to conceive and design nothing which he

would not utter the moment it occurred to him, he would not abide the

ordeal for a single day. Thus we stand in greater awe of our

neighbours' opinion of us than we do of our own.

5. How can it be that the Gods, who have ordered all things well for

man's advantage, overlooked one thing only, to wit that some of the

best of mankind, who have held the closest relations with things

divine, and by pious works and holy ministry become intimate with the

Divinity, once dead, should arise no more, but be altogether

extinguished? If this be truly so, be well assured that, if it ought

to have been otherwise they would have made it otherwise. Had it been

right it would have been practicable; and had it been according to

Nature, Nature would have effected it. From its not being so, if it

really be not so, be persuaded that it ought not to have been. You see

that, in debating this matter, you are pleading a point of justice

with the Gods. Now we would not thus plead with the Gods were they not

perfectly good and just. And, if they are so, they have left nothing

unjustly and unreasonably neglected in their administration.

6. Essay even tasks that you despair of executing. The left hand,

which in other things is of little value for want of use, yet holds

the bridle more firmly than the right, for in this it has practice.

7. Consider how death ought to find you, both as to body and as to

soul. Think of the shortness of life, of the eternities before and

after, and of the infirmity of all material things.

8. Contemplate the fundamental causes stripped of disguises. Think

what pain is, what pleasure is, what death, and what fame. Consider

how many are themselves the causes of all the disquiet that they

suffer; how no man may be hindered by another; how all is matter of

opinion.

9. In the use of principles we should be like the pugilist rather than

the swordsman. For when the latter drops the sword which he uses he is

undone. But the former has his hand always by him and needs but to

wield it.

10. Consider well the nature of things, distinguishing between matter,

cause, and purpose.

11. What a glorious power is given to man, never to do any action of

which God will not approve, and to welcome whatever God appoints for

him!

12. As to what happens in the course of nature, the Gods are not to be

blamed. They never do wrong, willingly or unwillingly. Neither are men

to be blamed, for they do no wrong willingly. There is therefore none

to blame.

13. How ridiculous, and how like a foreigner, is he who is surprised

at anything which happens in life!

14. There is either a fatal necessity, an unalterable order, or a

placable Providence, or a blind confusion without a governor. If there

be an unalterable necessity, why strive against it? If there be a

Providence admitting of propitiation, make yourself worthy of the

divine aid. If there be an ungoverned confusion, be comforted; seeing

that in this tempest you have within yourself a guiding

intelligence. And, if the wave should carry you away, let it carry

away the carcase and the animal life, for the intellectual part of you

it will not carry away.

15. If the light of a lamp shine and lose not its radiance until it be

extinguished, shall truth, justice, and temperance be extinguished in

you before your own extinction.

16. When you have the impression that a man has sinned, say to

yourself: "How do I know that this is sin?" And, if he has sinned,

consider that he stands self-condemned: and thus, as it were, has torn

his own face.

He that would wish the wicked not to sin is like one who would have

the fig tree not have juice in its figs, would have infants not cry,

horses not neigh, and other inevitable things not happen. What shall

the wicked man do, having a wicked disposition? If you are so keen,

cure it.

17. If a thing be not becoming, do it not; if not true, say it not.

18. Endeavour always to see in everything what it is that causes your

impression; and unfold it by distinguishing the cause, the matter, the

relation to other things, and the period within which it must cease to

exist.

19. Perceive at last that there is within you something better and

more divine than the immediate cause of your sensations of pleasure

and pain; something, in short, beyond the strings which move the

puppet. What is now my thought? Is it fear? Suspicion? Lust? Or any

such passion?

20. In the first place, let nothing be done at random or without an

object. In the second let your object never be other than the common

good.

21. Yet a little, and you shall be no more; nor shall any of these

things remain which you now behold, nor any of those who are now

living. It is the nature of all things to change, to turn, and to

corrupt; in order that other things may, in their course, spring out

of them.

22. Reflect that everything is matter of opinion; and opinion rests

with yourself, suppress then your opinion, what time you will, and

like one who has doubled the cape and reached the bay, you will have

calm and stillness everywhere, never a wave.

23. Any one natural operation, ending at its proper time, suffers no

ill by ceasing, nor does the agent therein suffer any ill by its thus

ceasing. In like manner, as to the whole series of actions which is

life, if it ends in its season it suffers no ill by ceasing, nor is he

who thus completes his series, in any evil case. The season and the

term are assigned by Nature; sometimes even by your own nature, as in

old age; but always by the nature of the whole, by the interchange of

whose parts the Universe still remains fresh and in its bloom. Now,

that is always good and seasonable which is advantageous to the nature

of the whole. Wherefore the ceasing of life cannot be evil to the

individual. There is no turpitude in it, since it is beyond our power,

and contains nothing contrary to the common advantage. Nay, it is

good, since it is seasonable and advantageous to the whole, and,

congruent with the order of the Universe. Thus, too, he is led by God

who goes the same way with God, and that by like inclination.

24. Have these three thoughts always at hand: First, as to your

action, do nothing inconsiderately, or otherwise than justice herself

would have acted. As for external events, they either happen by chance

or by providence; now, no man should quarrel with chance or censure

providence. Second, examine what each thing is, from its seed to its

quickening; and from its quickening to its death; of what materials it

is composed, and into what it will be resolved. Third, reflect that

could you be raised on high, and from thence behold all human affairs,

you would discern their great variety, conscious at the same time of

the crowds of serial and etherial inhabitants around us; but were you

so raised ever so often, you would always see the same things, all

uniform and of brief duration. Can we set our pride on such matters?

25. "Cast away opinion, and you are saved." Who then hinders you from

casting it away?

26. When you fret at anything, you have forgotten that all happens in

accordance with the nature of the Universe, and that the wrong done

was another's. This, too, that whatever happens has happened, and will

happen, and is now happening everywhere. You have also forgotten how

great is the bond between any man and all the human race, a bond not

of blood and seed, but of common intelligence. You have forgotten that

the intelligence of every man is divine, and an efflux from God; also

that no man is proprietor of anything: his children, his body, his

very life are given of God. You have forgotten, too, that everything is

matter of opinion; and that it is the present moment only that one can

live or lose.

27. Bring to frequent recollection those who have grieved about

anything overmuch, those who have been pre-eminent in the extreme of

glory or misfortune, in feuds or other circumstances of fate. Then

stop and ask, Where are they all now? Smoke and ashes, and an old

tale; or perhaps not even a tale. Pass them all in review: Fabius

Catullinus in the country, Lucius Lupus in his gardens, Stertinius at

Baiae, Tiberius at Capreae, Velius Rufus, and, in fine, all eminence

attended with the high regard of men. How cheap is all that is so

eagerly pursued? And how much better does it become a philosopher to

show himself, in the part of the material world allotted to him, just,

temperate, and obedient to the Gods; and this with simplicity; for

most intolerable of all is the pride of false humility.

28. To those who ask, "Where have you seen the Gods, and how assured

yourself of their existence, that you worship them?" make this reply:

First, they are visible, even to the eye. Again, my own soul I cannot

see, and yet I reverence it. Thus, too, as regards the Gods, I

continually feel their power; and so I know that they exist, and I

worship them.

29. The safety of life is to see the whole nature of everything, and

to discern the matter and the form of its constitution; also to do

justice with all your heart, and to speak the truth. What remains but

to enjoy life, adding one good to an another, so as not to lose the

smallest interval?

30. There is but one light of the sun, although it be scattered upon

walls and hills, and a myriad other objects. There is but one common

substance, although it be divided among ten thousand bodies having as

many different qualities. There is but one soul, though it be

distributed among countless different natures and individual

forms. There is but one intelligent spirit, though it may seem to be

divided. The other parts of these individuals of which we have spoken,

such as breath and matter, are void of perception and of mutual

affection; yet even they are held together by the intelligent spirit

and gravitate together. But intelligence has a special tendency to its

kind, and unites therewith, and the community of feeling is not

broken.

31. What do you desire? To live on? Or is it to feel or to desire? To

grow and to decay again? To speak or think? Which of all these seems

worthy to be desired? And, if each and all of them is despicable,

proceed to the last that remains, to follow reason and God. Now, it is

repugnant to reverence for reason and for God to grieve at the loss by

death of these other despicable things.

32. How small a part of the boundless immensity of the ages is

allotted to each of us, and presently that will vanish in eternity!

How little is ours of the universal substance; how little of the

universal spirit! On what a little clod of the whole earth do we

creep! Considering all this, reckon nothing great except to act as

your nature leads you, and to endure what universal Nature brings to

pass.

33. How is it with your ruling part? On this all depends. All other

things, within or without our control, are but corpses, dust, and

smoke.

34. This most of all must rouse you to despise death: That even those

who held pleasure to be good and pain to be evil nevertheless despised

it.

35. To him who holds that alone to be good which comes in proper

season, who cares not whether he has acted oftener or less often

according to right reason; to whom it makes no difference whether he

behold the universe for a longer time or a shorter--for this man

death also has no terror.

36. You have lived, O man, as a citizen of this great city; of what

consequence to you whether for five years or for three? What comes by

law is fair to all. Where then is the calamity, if you are sent out of

the city, by no tyrant or unjust judge, but Nature herself who at

first introduced you, just as the praetor who engaged the actor again

dismisses him from the stage? "But," say you, "I have not spoken my

five acts, but only three." True, but in life three acts make up the

play. For he sets the end who was responsible for its composition at

the first, and for its present dissolution. You are responsible for

neither. Depart then graciously; for he who dismisses you is gracious.

THE END.