BOOK EIGHT

  THIS reflection also tends to the removal of the desire of empty

fame, that it is no longer in thy power to have lived the whole of thy

life, or at least thy life from thy youth upwards, like a philosopher;

but both to many others and to thyself it is plain that thou art far

from philosophy. Thou hast fallen into disorder then, so that it is no

longer easy for thee to get the reputation of a philosopher; and thy

plan of life also opposes it. If then thou hast truly seen where the

matter lies, throw away the thought, How thou shalt seem to others,

and be content if thou shalt live the rest of thy life in such wise as

thy nature wills. Observe then what it wills, and let nothing else

distract thee; for thou hast had experience of many wanderings without

having found happiness anywhere, not in syllogisms, nor in wealth, nor

in reputation, nor in enjoyment, nor anywhere. Where is it then? In

doing what man's nature requires. How then shall a man do this? If

he has principles from which come his affects and his acts. What

principles? Those which relate to good and bad: the belief that

there is nothing good for man, which does not make him just,

temperate, manly, free; and that there is nothing bad, which does

not do the contrary to what has been mentioned.

  On the occasion of every act ask thyself, How is this with respect

to me? Shall I repent of it? A little time and I am dead, and all is

gone. What more do I seek, if what I am now doing is work of an

intelligent living being, and a social being, and one who is under the

same law with God?

  Alexander and Gaius and Pompeius, what are they in comparison with

Diogenes and Heraclitus and Socrates? For they were acquainted with

things, and their causes (forms), and their matter, and the ruling

principles of these men were the same. But as to the others, how many

things had they to care for, and to how many things were they slaves?

  Consider that men will do the same things nevertheless, even

though thou shouldst burst.

  This is the chief thing: Be not perturbed, for all things are

according to the nature of the universal; and in a little time thou

wilt be nobody and nowhere, like Hadrian and Augustus. In the next

place having fixed thy eyes steadily on thy business look at it, and

at the same time remembering that it is thy duty to be a good man, and

what man's nature demands, do that without turning aside; and speak as

it seems to thee most just, only let it be with a good disposition and

with modesty and without hypocrisy.

  The nature of the universal has this work to do, to remove to that

place the things which are in this, to change them, to take them

away hence, and to carry them there. All things are change, yet we

need not fear anything new. All things are familiar to us; but the

distribution of them still remains the same.

  Every nature is contented with itself when it goes on its way

well; and a rational nature goes on its way well, when in its thoughts

it assents to nothing false or uncertain, and when it directs its

movements to social acts only, and when it confines its desires and

aversions to the things which are in its power, and when it is

satisfied with everything that is assigned to it by the common nature.

For of this common nature every particular nature is a part, as the

nature of the leaf is a part of the nature of the plant; except that

in the plant the nature of the leaf is part of a nature which has

not perception or reason, and is subject to be impeded; but the nature

of man is part of a nature which is not subject to impediments, and is

intelligent and just, since it gives to everything in equal portions

and according to its worth, times, substance, cause (form),

activity, and incident. But examine, not to discover that any one

thing compared with any other single thing is equal in all respects,

but by taking all the parts together of one thing and comparing them

with all the parts together of another.

  Thou hast not leisure or ability to read. But thou hast leisure or

ability to check arrogance: thou hast leisure to be superior to

pleasure and pain: thou hast leisure to be superior to love of fame,

and not to be vexed at stupid and ungrateful people, nay even to

care for them.

  Let no man any longer hear thee finding fault with the court life or

with thy own.

  Repentance is a kind of self-reproof for having neglected

something useful; but that which is good must be something useful, and

the perfect good man should look after it. But no such man would

ever repent of having refused any sensual pleasure. Pleasure then is

neither good nor useful.

  This thing, what is it in itself, in its own constitution? What is

its substance and material? And what its causal nature (or form)?

And what is it doing in the world? And how long does it subsist?

  When thou risest from sleep with reluctance, remember that it is

according to thy constitution and according to human nature to perform

social acts, but sleeping is common also to irrational animals. But

that which is according to each individual's nature is also more

peculiarly its own, and more suitable to its nature, and indeed also

more agreeable.

  Constantly and, if it be possible, on the occasion of every

impression on the soul, apply to it the principles of Physic, of

Ethic, and of Dialectic.

  Whatever man thou meetest with, immediately say to thyself: What

opinions has this man about good and bad? For if with respect to

pleasure and pain and the causes of each, and with respect to fame and

ignominy, death and life, he has such and such opinions, it will

seem nothing wonderful or strange to me, if he does such and such

things; and I shall bear in mind that he is compelled to do so.

  Remember that as it is a shame to be surprised if the fig-tree

produces figs, so it is to be surprised if the world produces such and

such things of which it is productive; and for the physician and the

helmsman it is a shame to be surprised, if a man has a fever, or if

the wind is unfavourable.

  Remember that to change thy opinion and to follow him who corrects

thy error is as consistent with freedom as it is to persist in thy

error. For it is thy own, the activity which is exerted according to

thy own movement and judgement, and indeed according to thy own

understanding too.

  If a thing is in thy own power, why dost thou do it? But if it is in

the power of another, whom dost thou blame? The atoms (chance) or

the gods? Both are foolish. Thou must blame nobody. For if thou canst,

correct that which is the cause; but if thou canst not do this,

correct at least the thing itself; but if thou canst not do even this,

of what use is it to thee to find fault? For nothing should be done

without a purpose.

  That which has died falls not out of the universe. If it stays here,

it also changes here, and is dissolved into its proper parts, which

are elements of the universe and of thyself. And these too change, and

they murmur not.

  Everything exists for some end, a horse, a vine. Why dost thou

wonder? Even the sun will say, I am for some purpose, and the rest

of the gods will say the same. For what purpose then art thou? to

enjoy pleasure? See if common sense allows this.

  Nature has had regard in everything no less to the end than to the

beginning and the continuance, just like the man who throws up a ball.

What good is it then for the ball to be thrown up, or harm for it to

come down, or even to have fallen? And what good is it to the bubble

while it holds together, or what harm when it is burst? The same may

be said of a light also.

  Turn it (the body) inside out, and see what kind of thing it is; and

when it has grown old, what kind of thing it becomes, and when it is

diseased.

  Short-lived are both the praiser and the praised, and the rememberer

and the remembered: and all this in a nook of this part of the

world; and not even here do all agree, no, not any one with himself:

and the whole earth too is a point.

  Attend to the matter which is before thee, whether it is an

opinion or an act or a word.

  Thou sufferest this justly: for thou choosest rather to become

good to-morrow than to be good to-day.

  Am I doing anything? I do it with reference to the good of

mankind. Does anything happen to me? I receive it and refer it to

the gods, and the source of all things, from which all that happens is

derived.

  Such as bathing appears to thee- oil, sweat, dirt, filthy water,

all things disgusting- so is every part of life and everything.

  Lucilla saw Verus die, and then Lucilla died. Secunda saw Maximus

die, and then Secunda died. Epitynchanus saw Diotimus die, and

Epitynchanus died. Antoninus saw Faustina die, and then Antoninus

died. Such is everything. Celer saw Hadrian die, and then Celer

died. And those sharp-witted men, either seers or men inflated with

pride, where are they? For instance the sharp-witted men, Charax and

Demetrius the Platonist and Eudaemon, and any one else like them.

All ephemeral, dead long ago. Some indeed have not been remembered

even for a short time, and others have become the heroes of fables,

and again others have disappeared even from fables. Remember this

then, that this little compound, thyself, must either be dissolved, or

thy poor breath must be extinguished, or be removed and placed

elsewhere.

  It is satisfaction to a man to do the proper works of a man. Now

it is a proper work of a man to be benevolent to his own kind, to

despise the movements of the senses, to form a just judgement of

plausible appearances, and to take a survey of the nature of the

universe and of the things which happen in it.

  There are three relations between thee and other things: the one

to the body which surrounds thee; the second to the divine cause

from which all things come to all; and the third to those who live

with thee.

  Pain is either an evil to the body- then let the body say what it

thinks of it- or to the soul; but it is in the power of the soul to

maintain its own serenity and tranquility, and not to think that

pain is an evil. For every judgement and movement and desire and

aversion is within, and no evil ascends so high.

  Wipe out thy imaginations by often saying to thyself: now it is in

my power to let no badness be in this soul, nor desire nor any

perturbation at all; but looking at all things I see what is their

nature, and I use each according to its value.- Remember this power

which thou hast from nature.

  Speak both in the senate and to every man, whoever he may be,

appropriately, not with any affectation: use plain discourse.

  Augustus' court, wife, daughter, descendants, ancestors, sister,

Agrippa, kinsmen, intimates, friends, Areius, Maecenas, physicians and

sacrificing priests- the whole court is dead. Then turn to the rest,

not considering the death of a single man, but of a whole race, as

of the Pompeii; and that which is inscribed on the tombs- The last of

his race. Then consider what trouble those before them have had that

they might leave a successor; and then, that of necessity some one

must be the last. Again here consider the death of a whole race.

  It is thy duty to order thy life well in every single act; and if

every act does its duty, as far as is possible, be content; and no one

is able to hinder thee so that each act shall not do its duty.- But

something external will stand in the way.- Nothing will stand in the

way of thy acting justly and soberly and considerately.- But perhaps

some other active power will be hindered.- Well, but by acquiescing

in the hindrance and by being content to transfer thy efforts to

that which is allowed, another opportunity of action is immediately

put before thee in place of that which was hindered, and one which

will adapt itself to this ordering of which we are speaking.

  Receive wealth or prosperity without arrogance; and be ready to

let it go.

  If thou didst ever see a hand cut off, or a foot, or a head, lying

anywhere apart from the rest of the body, such does a man make

himself, as far as he can, who is not content with what happens, and

separates himself from others, or does anything unsocial. Suppose that

thou hast detached thyself from the natural unity- for thou wast made

by nature a part, but now thou hast cut thyself off- yet here there

is this beautiful provision, that it is in thy power again to unite

thyself. God has allowed this to no other part, after it has been

separated and cut asunder, to come together again. But consider the

kindness by which he has distinguished man, for he has put it in his

power not to be separated at all from the universal; and when he has

been separated, he has allowed him to return and to be united and to

resume his place as a part.

  As the nature of the universal has given to every rational being all

the other powers that it has, so we have received from it this power

also. For as the universal nature converts and fixes in its

predestined place everything which stands in the way and opposes it,

and makes such things a part of itself, so also the rational animal is

able to make every hindrance its own material, and to use it for

such purposes as it may have designed.

  Do not disturb thyself by thinking of the whole of thy life. Let not

thy thoughts at once embrace all the various troubles which thou

mayest expect to befall thee: but on every occasion ask thyself,

What is there in this which is intolerable and past bearing? For

thou wilt be ashamed to confess. In the next place remember that

neither the future nor the past pains thee, but only the present.

But this is reduced to a very little, if thou only circumscribest

it, and chidest thy mind, if it is unable to hold out against even

this.

  Does Panthea or Pergamus now sit by the tomb of Verus? Does Chaurias

or Diotimus sit by the tomb of Hadrian? That would be ridiculous.

Well, suppose they did sit there, would the dead be conscious of it?

And if the dead were conscious, would they be pleased? And if they

were pleased, would that make them immortal? Was it not in the order

of destiny that these persons too should first become old women and

old men and then die? What then would those do after these were

dead? All this is foul smell and blood in a bag.

  If thou canst see sharp, look and judge wisely, says the

philosopher.

  In the constitution of the rational animal I see no virtue which

is opposed to justice; but I see a virtue which is opposed to love

of pleasure, and that is temperance.

  If thou takest away thy opinion about that which appears to give

thee pain, thou thyself standest in perfect security.- Who is this

self?- The reason.- But I am not reason.- Be it so. Let then the

reason itself not trouble itself. But if any other part of thee

suffers, let it have its own opinion about itself.

  Hindrance to the perceptions of sense is an evil to the animal

nature. Hindrance to the movements (desires) is equally an evil to the

animal nature. And something else also is equally an impediment and an

evil to the constitution of plants. So then that which is a

hindrance to the intelligence is an evil to the intelligent nature.

Apply all these things then to thyself. Does pain or sensuous pleasure

affect thee? The senses will look to that.- Has any obstacle opposed

thee in thy efforts towards an object? if indeed thou wast making this

effort absolutely (unconditionally, or without any reservation),

certainly this obstacle is an evil to thee considered as a rational

animal. But if thou takest into consideration the usual course of

things, thou hast not yet been injured nor even impeded. The things

however which are proper to the understanding no other man is used

to impede, for neither fire, nor iron, nor tyrant, nor abuse,

touches it in any way. When it has been made a sphere, it continues

a sphere.

  It is not fit that I should give myself pain, for I have never

intentionally given pain even to another.

  Different things delight different people. But it is my delight to

keep the ruling faculty sound without turning away either from any man

or from any of the things which happen to men, but looking at and

receiving all with welcome eyes and using everything according to

its value.

  See that thou secure this present time to thyself: for those who

rather pursue posthumous fame do consider that the men of after time

will be exactly such as these whom they cannot bear now; and both

are mortal. And what is it in any way to thee if these men of after

time utter this or that sound, or have this or that opinion about

thee?

  Take me and cast me where thou wilt; for there I shall keep my

divine part tranquil, that is, content, if it can feel and act

conformably to its proper constitution. Is this change of place

sufficient reason why my soul should be unhappy and worse than it was,

depressed, expanded, shrinking, affrighted? And what wilt thou find

which is sufficient reason for this?

  Nothing can happen to any man which is not a human accident, nor

to an ox which is not according to the nature of an ox, nor to a

vine which is not according to the nature of a vine, nor to a stone

which is not proper to a stone. If then there happens to each thing

both what is usual and natural, why shouldst thou complain? For the

common nature brings nothing which may not be borne by thee.

  If thou art pained by any external thing, it is not this thing

that disturbs thee, but thy own judgement about it. And it is in thy

power to wipe out this judgement now. But if anything in thy own

disposition gives thee pain, who hinders thee from correcting thy

opinion? And even if thou art pained because thou art not doing some

particular thing which seems to thee to be right, why dost thou not

rather act than complain?- But some insuperable obstacle is in the

way?- Do not be grieved then, for the cause of its not being done

depends not on thee.- But it is not worth while to live if this

cannot be done.- Take thy departure then from life contentedly, just

as he dies who is in full activity, and well pleased too with the

things which are obstacles.

  Remember that the ruling faculty is invincible, when

self-collected it is satisfied with itself, if it does nothing which

it does not choose to do, even if it resist from mere obstinacy.

What then will it be when it forms a judgement about anything aided by

reason and deliberately? Therefore the mind which is free from

passions is a citadel, for man has nothing more secure to which he can

fly for, refuge and for the future be inexpugnable. He then who has

not seen this is an ignorant man; but he who has seen it and does

not fly to this refuge is unhappy.

  Say nothing more to thyself than what the first appearances

report. Suppose that it has been reported to thee that a certain

person speaks ill of thee. This has been reported; but that thou

hast been injured, that has not been reported. I see that my child

is sick. I do see; but that he is in danger, I do not see. Thus then

always abide by the first appearances, and add nothing thyself from

within, and then nothing happens to thee. Or rather add something,

like a man who knows everything that happens in the world.

  A cucumber is bitter.- Throw it away.- There are briars in the

road.- Turn aside from them.- This is enough. Do not add, And why were

such things made in the world? For thou wilt be ridiculed by a man who

is acquainted with nature, as thou wouldst be ridiculed by a carpenter

and shoemaker if thou didst find fault because thou seest in their

workshop shavings and cuttings from the things which they make. And

yet they have places into which they can throw these shavings and

cuttings, and the universal nature has no external space; but the

wondrous part of her art is that though she has circumscribed herself,

everything within her which appears to decay and to grow old and to be

useless she changes into herself, and again makes other new things

from these very same, so that she requires neither substance from

without nor wants a place into which she may cast that which decays.

She is content then with her own space, and her own matter and her own

art.

  Neither in thy actions be sluggish nor in thy conversation without

method, nor wandering in thy thoughts, nor let there be in thy soul

inward contention nor external effusion, nor in life be so busy as

to have no leisure.

  Suppose that men kill thee, cut thee in pieces, curse thee. What

then can these things do to prevent thy mind from remaining pure,

wise, sober, just? For instance, if a man should stand by a limpid

pure spring, and curse it, the spring never ceases sending up

potable water; and if he should cast clay into it or filth, it will

speedily disperse them and wash them out, and will not be at all

polluted. How then shalt thou possess a perpetual fountain and not a

mere well? By forming thyself hourly to freedom conjoined with

contentment, simplicity and modesty.

  He who does not know what the world is, does not know where he is.

And he who does not know for what purpose the world exists, does not

know who he is, nor what the world is. But he who has failed in any

one of these things could not even say for what purpose he exists

himself. What then dost thou think of him who avoids or seeks the

praise of those who applaud, of men who know not either where they are

or who they are?

  Dost thou wish to be praised by a man who curses himself thrice

every hour? Wouldst thou wish to please a man who does not please

himself? Does a man please himself who repents of nearly everything

that he does?

  No longer let thy breathing only act in concert with the air which

surrounds thee, but let thy intelligence also now be in harmony with

the intelligence which embraces all things. For the intelligent

power is no less diffused in all parts and pervades all things for him

who is willing to draw it to him than the aerial power for him who

is able to respire it.

  Generally, wickedness does no harm at all to the universe; and

particularly, the wickedness of one man does no harm to another. It is

only harmful to him who has it in his power to be released from it, as

soon as he shall choose.

  To my own free will the free will of my neighbour is just as

indifferent as his poor breath and flesh. For though we are made

especially for the sake of one another, still the ruling power of each

of us has its own office, for otherwise my neighbour's wickedness

would be my harm, which God has not willed in order that my

unhappiness may not depend on another.

  The sun appears to be poured down, and in all directions indeed it

is diffused, yet it is not effused. For this diffusion is extension:

Accordingly its rays are called Extensions [aktines] because they

are extended [apo tou ekteinesthai]. But one may judge what kind of

a thing a ray is, if he looks at the sun's light passing through a

narrow opening into a darkened room, for it is extended in a right

line, and as it were is divided when it meets with any solid body

which stands in the way and intercepts the air beyond; but there the

light remains fixed and does not glide or fall off. Such then ought to

be the out-pouring and diffusion of the understanding, and it should

in no way be an effusion, but an extension, and it should make no

violent or impetuous collision with the obstacles which are in its

way; nor yet fall down, but be fixed and enlighten that which receives

it. For a body will deprive itself of the illumination, if it does not

admit it.

  He who fears death either fears the loss of sensation or a different

kind of sensation. But if thou shalt have no sensation, neither wilt

thou feel any harm; and if thou shalt acquire another kind of

sensation, thou wilt be a different kind of living being and thou wilt

not cease to live.

  Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them then or bear

with them.

  In one way an arrow moves, in another way the mind. The mind indeed,

both when it exercises caution and when it is employed about

inquiry, moves straight onward not the less, and to its object.

  Enter into every man's ruling faculty; and also let every other

man enter into thine.