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Written by: Sylvain Cauchon

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Published: 24 February 2025

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BOOK TWO

Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body,
the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these
things happen to them by reason of their ignorance of what is good
and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is beautiful,
and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who does wrong,
that it is akin to me, not only of the same blood or seed, but that
it participates in the same intelligence and the same portion of the
divinity, I can neither be injured by any of them, for no one can
fix on me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate
him, For we are made for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like
eyelids, like the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act against
one another then is contrary to nature; and it is acting against one
another to be vexed and to turn away. 

Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the
ruling part. Throw away thy books; no longer distract thyself: it
is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, despise the flesh;
it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins,
and arteries. See the breath also, what kind of a thing it is, air,
and not always the same, but every moment sent out and again sucked
in. The third then is the ruling part: consider thus: Thou art an
old man; no longer let this be a slave, no longer be pulled by the
strings like a puppet to unsocial movements, no longer either be dissatisfied
with thy present lot, or shrink from the future. 

All that is from the gods is full of Providence. That which is from
fortune is not separated from nature or without an interweaving and
involution with the things which are ordered by Providence. From thence
all things flow; and there is besides necessity, and that which is
for the advantage of the whole universe, of which thou art a part.
But that is good for every part of nature which the nature of the
whole brings, and what serves to maintain this nature. Now the universe
is preserved, as by the changes of the elements so by the changes
of things compounded of the elements. Let these principles be enough
for thee, let them always be fixed opinions. But cast away the thirst
after books, that thou mayest not die murmuring, but cheerfully, truly,
and from thy heart thankful to the gods. 

Remember how long thou hast been putting off these things, and how
often thou hast received an opportunity from the gods, and yet dost
not use it. Thou must now at last perceive of what universe thou art
a part, and of what administrator of the universe thy existence is
an efflux, and that a limit of time is fixed for thee, which if thou
dost not use for clearing away the clouds from thy mind, it will go
and thou wilt go, and it will never return. 

Every moment think steadily as a Roman and a man to do what thou hast
in hand with perfect and simple dignity, and feeling of affection,
and freedom, and justice; and to give thyself relief from all other
thoughts. And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act
of thy life as if it were the last, laying aside all carelessness
and passionate aversion from the commands of reason, and all hypocrisy,
and self-love, and discontent with the portion which has been given
to thee. Thou seest how few the things are, the which if a man lays
hold of, he is able to live a life which flows in quiet, and is like
the existence of the gods; for the gods on their part will require
nothing more from him who observes these things. 

Do wrong to thyself, do wrong to thyself, my soul; but thou wilt no
longer have the opportunity of honouring thyself. Every man's life
is sufficient. But thine is nearly finished, though thy soul reverences
not itself but places thy felicity in the souls of others.

Do the things external which fall upon thee distract thee? Give thyself
time to learn something new and good, and cease to be whirled around.
But then thou must also avoid being carried about the other way. For
those too are triflers who have wearied themselves in life by their
activity, and yet have no object to which to direct every movement,
and, in a word, all their thoughts. 

Through not observing what is in the mind of another a man has seldom
been seen to be unhappy; but those who do not observe the movements
of their own minds must of necessity be unhappy. 

This thou must always bear in mind, what is the nature of the whole,
and what is my nature, and how this is related to that, and what kind
of a part it is of what kind of a whole; and that there is no one
who hinders thee from always doing and saying the things which are
according to the nature of which thou art a part. 

Theophrastus, in his comparison of bad acts- such a comparison as
one would make in accordance with the common notions of mankind- says,
like a true philosopher, that the offences which are committed through
desire are more blameable than those which are committed through anger.
For he who is excited by anger seems to turn away from reason with
a certain pain and unconscious contraction; but he who offends through
desire, being overpowered by pleasure, seems to be in a manner more
intemperate and more womanish in his offences. Rightly then, and in
a way worthy of philosophy, he said that the offence which is committed
with pleasure is more blameable than that which is committed with
pain; and on the whole the one is more like a person who has been
first wronged and through pain is compelled to be angry; but the other
is moved by his own impulse to do wrong, being carried towards doing
something by desire. 

Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment,
regulate every act and thought accordingly. But to go away from among
men, if there are gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods
will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or
if they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live
in a universe devoid of gods or devoid of Providence? But in truth
they do exist, and they do care for human things, and they have put
all the means in man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils.
And as to the rest, if there was anything evil, they would have provided
for this also, that it should be altogether in a man's power not to
fall into it. Now that which does not make a man worse, how can it
make a man's life worse? But neither through ignorance, nor having
the knowledge, but not the power to guard against or correct these
things, is it possible that the nature of the universe has overlooked
them; nor is it possible that it has made so great a mistake, either
through want of power or want of skill, that good and evil should
happen indiscriminately to the good and the bad. But death certainly,
and life, honour and dishonour, pain and pleasure, all these things
equally happen to good men and bad, being things which make us neither
better nor worse. Therefore they are neither good nor evil.

How quickly all things disappear, in the universe the bodies themselves,
but in time the remembrance of them; what is the nature of all sensible
things, and particularly those which attract with the bait of pleasure
or terrify by pain, or are noised abroad by vapoury fame; how worthless,
and contemptible, and sordid, and perishable, and dead they are- all
this it is the part of the intellectual faculty to observe. To observe
too who these are whose opinions and voices give reputation; what
death is, and the fact that, if a man looks at it in itself, and by
the abstractive power of reflection resolves into their parts all
the things which present themselves to the imagination in it, he will
then consider it to be nothing else than an operation of nature; and
if any one is afraid of an operation of nature, he is a child. This,
however, is not only an operation of nature, but it is also a thing
which conduces to the purposes of nature. To observe too how man comes
near to the deity, and by what part of him, and when this part of
man is so disposed. 

Nothing is more wretched than a man who traverses everything in a
round, and pries into the things beneath the earth, as the poet says,
and seeks by conjecture what is in the minds of his neighbours, without
perceiving that it is sufficient to attend to the daemon within him,
and to reverence it sincerely. And reverence of the daemon consists
in keeping it pure from passion and thoughtlessness, and dissatisfaction
with what comes from gods and men. For the things from the gods merit
veneration for their excellence; and the things from men should be
dear to us by reason of kinship; and sometimes even, in a manner,
they move our pity by reason of men's ignorance of good and bad; this
defect being not less than that which deprives us of the power of
distinguishing things that are white and black. 

Though thou shouldst be going to live three thousand years, and as
many times ten thousand years, still remember that no man loses any
other life than this which he now lives, nor lives any other than
this which he now loses. The longest and shortest are thus brought
to the same. For the present is the same to all, though that which
perishes is not the same; and so that which is lost appears to be
a mere moment. For a man cannot lose either the past or the future:
for what a man has not, how can any one take this from him? These
two things then thou must bear in mind; the one, that all things from
eternity are of like forms and come round in a circle, and that it
makes no difference whether a man shall see the same things during
a hundred years or two hundred, or an infinite time; and the second,
that the longest liver and he who will die soonest lose just the same.
For the present is the only thing of which a man can be deprived,
if it is true that this is the only thing which he has, and that a
man cannot lose a thing if he has it not. 

Remember that all is opinion. For what was said by the Cynic Monimus
is manifest: and manifest too is the use of what was said, if a man
receives what may be got out of it as far as it is true.

The soul of man does violence to itself, first of all, when it becomes
an abscess and, as it were, a tumour on the universe, so far as it
can. For to be vexed at anything which happens is a separation of
ourselves from nature, in some part of which the natures of all other
things are contained. In the next place, the soul does violence to
itself when it turns away from any man, or even moves towards him
with the intention of injuring, such as are the souls of those who
are angry. In the third place, the soul does violence to itself when
it is overpowered by pleasure or by pain. Fourthly, when it plays
a part, and does or says anything insincerely and untruly. Fifthly,
when it allows any act of its own and any movement to be without an
aim, and does anything thoughtlessly and without considering what
it is, it being right that even the smallest things be done with reference
to an end; and the end of rational animals is to follow the reason
and the law of the most ancient city and polity. 

Of human life the time is a point, and the substance is in a flux,
and the perception dull, and the composition of the whole body subject
to putrefaction, and the soul a whirl, and fortune hard to divine,
and fame a thing devoid of judgement. And, to say all in a word, everything
which belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to the soul
is a dream and vapour, and life is a warfare and a stranger's sojourn,
and after-fame is oblivion. What then is that which is able to conduct
a man? One thing and only one, philosophy. But this consists in keeping
the daemon within a man free from violence and unharmed, superior
to pains and pleasures, doing nothing without purpose, nor yet falsely
and with hypocrisy, not feeling the need of another man's doing or
not doing anything; and besides, accepting all that happens, and all
that is allotted, as coming from thence, wherever it is, from whence
he himself came; and, finally, waiting for death with a cheerful mind,
as being nothing else than a dissolution of the elements of which
every living being is compounded. But if there is no harm to the elements
themselves in each continually changing into another, why should a
man have any apprehension about the change and dissolution of all
the elements? For it is according to nature, and nothing is evil which
is according to nature. 

This in Carnuntum. 

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Written by: Sylvain Cauchon

Category: Category (en-ca)

Published: 24 February 2025

Hits: 23

Meditations of Marcus AureliusBOOK ONE

From my grandfather Verus I learned good morals and the government
of my temper. 

From the reputation and remembrance of my father, modesty and a manly
character. 

From my mother, piety and beneficence, and abstinence, not only from
evil deeds, but even from evil thoughts; and further, simplicity in
my way of living, far removed from the habits of the rich.

From my great-grandfather, not to have frequented public schools,
and to have had good teachers at home, and to know that on such things
a man should spend liberally. 

From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of the blue party
at the games in the Circus, nor a partizan either of the Parmularius
or the Scutarius at the gladiators' fights; from him too I learned
endurance of labour, and to want little, and to work with my own hands,
and not to meddle with other people's affairs, and not to be ready
to listen to slander. 

From Diognetus, not to busy myself about trifling things, and not
to give credit to what was said by miracle-workers and jugglers about
incantations and the driving away of daemons and such things; and
not to breed quails for fighting, nor to give myself up passionately
to such things; and to endure freedom of speech; and to have become
intimate with philosophy; and to have been a hearer, first of Bacchius,
then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written dialogues in my
youth; and to have desired a plank bed and skin, and whatever else
of the kind belongs to the Grecian discipline. 

From Rusticus I received the impression that my character required
improvement and discipline; and from him I learned not to be led astray
to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on speculative matters, nor
to delivering little hortatory orations, nor to showing myself off
as a man who practises much discipline, or does benevolent acts in
order to make a display; and to abstain from rhetoric, and poetry,
and fine writing; and not to walk about in the house in my outdoor
dress, nor to do other things of the kind; and to write my letters
with simplicity, like the letter which Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa
to my mother; and with respect to those who have offended me by words,
or done me wrong, to be easily disposed to be pacified and reconciled,
as soon as they have shown a readiness to be reconciled; and to read
carefully, and not to be satisfied with a superficial understanding
of a book; nor hastily to give my assent to those who talk overmuch;
and I am indebted to him for being acquainted with the discourses
of Epictetus, which he communicated to me out of his own collection.

From Apollonius I learned freedom of will and undeviating steadiness
of purpose; and to look to nothing else, not even for a moment, except
to reason; and to be always the same, in sharp pains, on the occasion
of the loss of a child, and in long illness; and to see clearly in
a living example that the same man can be both most resolute and yielding,
and not peevish in giving his instruction; and to have had before
my eyes a man who clearly considered his experience and his skill
in expounding philosophical principles as the smallest of his merits;
and from him I learned how to receive from friends what are esteemed
favours, without being either humbled by them or letting them pass
unnoticed. 

From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example of a family
governed in a fatherly manner, and the idea of living conformably
to nature; and gravity without affectation, and to look carefully
after the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons,
and those who form opinions without consideration: he had the power
of readily accommodating himself to all, so that intercourse with
him was more agreeable than any flattery; and at the same time he
was most highly venerated by those who associated with him: and he
had the faculty both of discovering and ordering, in an intelligent
and methodical way, the principles necessary for life; and he never
showed anger or any other passion, but was entirely free from passion,
and also most affectionate; and he could express approbation without
noisy display, and he possessed much knowledge without ostentation.

From Alexander the grammarian, to refrain from fault-finding, and
not in a reproachful way to chide those who uttered any barbarous
or solecistic or strange-sounding expression; but dexterously to introduce
the very expression which ought to have been used, and in the way
of answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an inquiry about the
thing itself, not about the word, or by some other fit suggestion.

From Fronto I learned to observe what envy, and duplicity, and hypocrisy
are in a tyrant, and that generally those among us who are called
Patricians are rather deficient in paternal affection. 

From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor without necessity
to say to any one, or to write in a letter, that I have no leisure;
nor continually to excuse the neglect of duties required by our relation
to those with whom we live, by alleging urgent occupations.

From Catulus, not to be indifferent when a friend finds fault, even
if he should find fault without reason, but to try to restore him
to his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak well of teachers,
as it is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love my children
truly. 

From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to love truth, and to
love justice; and through him I learned to know Thrasea, Helvidius,
Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I received the idea of a polity in
which there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regard
to equal rights and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kingly
government which respects most of all the freedom of the governed;
I learned from him also consistency and undeviating steadiness in
my regard for philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and to give
to others readily, and to cherish good hopes, and to believe that
I am loved by my friends; and in him I observed no concealment of
his opinions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that his
friends had no need to conjecture what he wished or did not wish,
but it was quite plain. 

From Maximus I learned self-government, and not to be led aside by
anything; and cheerfulness in all circumstances, as well as in illness;
and a just admixture in the moral character of sweetness and dignity,
and to do what was set before me without complaining. I observed that
everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and that in all that
he did he never had any bad intention; and he never showed amazement
and surprise, and was never in a hurry, and never put off doing a
thing, nor was perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to disguise
his vexation, nor, on the other hand, was he ever passionate or suspicious.
He was accustomed to do acts of beneficence, and was ready to forgive,
and was free from all falsehood; and he presented the appearance of
a man who could not be diverted from right rather than of a man who
had been improved. I observed, too, that no man could ever think that
he was despised by Maximus, or ever venture to think himself a better
man. He had also the art of being humorous in an agreeable way.

In my father I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeable resolution
in the things which he had determined after due deliberation; and
no vainglory in those things which men call honours; and a love of
labour and perseverance; and a readiness to listen to those who had
anything to propose for the common weal; and undeviating firmness
in giving to every man according to his deserts; and a knowledge derived
from experience of the occasions for vigorous action and for remission.
And I observed that he had overcome all passion for boys; and he considered
himself no more than any other citizen; and he released his friends
from all obligation to sup with him or to attend him of necessity
when he went abroad, and those who had failed to accompany him, by
reason of any urgent circumstances, always found him the same. I observed
too his habit of careful inquiry in all matters of deliberation, and
his persistency, and that he never stopped his investigation through
being satisfied with appearances which first present themselves; and
that his disposition was to keep his friends, and not to be soon tired
of them, nor yet to be extravagant in his affection; and to be satisfied
on all occasions, and cheerful; and to foresee things a long way off,
and to provide for the smallest without display; and to check immediately
popular applause and all flattery; and to be ever watchful over the
things which were necessary for the administration of the empire,
and to be a good manager of the expenditure, and patiently to endure
the blame which he got for such conduct; and he was neither superstitious
with respect to the gods, nor did he court men by gifts or by trying
to please them, or by flattering the populace; but he showed sobriety
in all things and firmness, and never any mean thoughts or action,
nor love of novelty. And the things which conduce in any way to the
commodity of life, and of which fortune gives an abundant supply,
he used without arrogance and without excusing himself; so that when
he had them, he enjoyed them without affectation, and when he had
them not, he did not want them. No one could ever say of him that
he was either a sophist or a home-bred flippant slave or a pedant;
but every one acknowledged him to be a man ripe, perfect, above flattery,
able to manage his own and other men's affairs. Besides this, he honoured
those who were true philosophers, and he did not reproach those who
pretended to be philosophers, nor yet was he easily led by them. He
was also easy in conversation, and he made himself agreeable without
any offensive affectation. He took a reasonable care of his body's
health, not as one who was greatly attached to life, nor out of regard
to personal appearance, nor yet in a careless way, but so that, through
his own attention, he very seldom stood in need of the physician's
art or of medicine or external applications. He was most ready to
give way without envy to those who possessed any particular faculty,
such as that of eloquence or knowledge of the law or of morals, or
of anything else; and he gave them his help, that each might enjoy
reputation according to his deserts; and he always acted conformably
to the institutions of his country, without showing any affectation
of doing so. Further, he was not fond of change nor unsteady, but
he loved to stay in the same places, and to employ himself about the
same things; and after his paroxysms of headache he came immediately
fresh and vigorous to his usual occupations. His secrets were not
but very few and very rare, and these only about public matters; and
he showed prudence and economy in the exhibition of the public spectacles
and the construction of public buildings, his donations to the people,
and in such things, for he was a man who looked to what ought to be
done, not to the reputation which is got by a man's acts. He did not
take the bath at unseasonable hours; he was not fond of building houses,
nor curious about what he ate, nor about the texture and colour of
his clothes, nor about the beauty of his slaves. His dress came from
Lorium, his villa on the coast, and from Lanuvium generally. We know
how he behaved to the toll-collector at Tusculum who asked his pardon;
and such was all his behaviour. There was in him nothing harsh, nor
implacable, nor violent, nor, as one may say, anything carried to
the sweating point; but he examined all things severally, as if he
had abundance of time, and without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously
and consistently. And that might be applied to him which is recorded
of Socrates, that he was able both to abstain from, and to enjoy,
those things which many are too weak to abstain from, and cannot enjoy
without excess. But to be strong enough both to bear the one and to
be sober in the other is the mark of a man who has a perfect and invincible
soul, such as he showed in the illness of Maximus. 

To the gods I am indebted for having good grandfathers, good parents,
a good sister, good teachers, good associates, good kinsmen and friends,
nearly everything good. Further, I owe it to the gods that I was not
hurried into any offence against any of them, though I had a disposition
which, if opportunity had offered, might have led me to do something
of this kind; but, through their favour, there never was such a concurrence
of circumstances as put me to the trial. Further, I am thankful to
the gods that I was not longer brought up with my grandfather's concubine,
and that I preserved the flower of my youth, and that I did not make
proof of my virility before the proper season, but even deferred the
time; that I was subjected to a ruler and a father who was able to
take away all pride from me, and to bring me to the knowledge that
it is possible for a man to live in a palace without wanting either
guards or embroidered dresses, or torches and statues, and such-like
show; but that it is in such a man's power to bring himself very near
to the fashion of a private person, without being for this reason
either meaner in thought, or more remiss in action, with respect to
the things which must be done for the public interest in a manner
that befits a ruler. I thank the gods for giving me such a brother,
who was able by his moral character to rouse me to vigilance over
myself, and who, at the same time, pleased me by his respect and affection;
that my children have not been stupid nor deformed in body; that I
did not make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and the other studies,
in which I should perhaps have been completely engaged, if I had seen
that I was making progress in them; that I made haste to place those
who brought me up in the station of honour, which they seemed to desire,
without putting them off with hope of my doing it some time after,
because they were then still young; that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus,
Maximus; that I received clear and frequent impressions about living
according to nature, and what kind of a life that is, so that, so
far as depended on the gods, and their gifts, and help, and inspirations,
nothing hindered me from forthwith living according to nature, though
I still fall short of it through my own fault, and through not observing
the admonitions of the gods, and, I may almost say, their direct instructions;
that my body has held out so long in such a kind of life; that I never
touched either Benedicta or Theodotus, and that, after having fallen
into amatory passions, I was cured; and, though I was often out of
humour with Rusticus, I never did anything of which I had occasion
to repent; that, though it was my mother's fate to die young, she
spent the last years of her life with me; that, whenever I wished
to help any man in his need, or on any other occasion, I was never
told that I had not the means of doing it; and that to myself the
same necessity never happened, to receive anything from another; that
I have such a wife, so obedient, and so affectionate, and so simple;
that I had abundance of good masters for my children; and that remedies
have been shown to me by dreams, both others, and against bloodspitting
and giddiness...; and that, when I had an inclination to philosophy,
I did not fall into the hands of any sophist, and that I did not waste
my time on writers of histories, or in the resolution of syllogisms,
or occupy myself about the investigation of appearances in the heavens;
for all these things require the help of the gods and fortune.

Among the Quadi at the Granua.