Meditations, Marcus Aurelius [websites to read books for free TXT] 📗

harm the state, which does not harm law

[order]; and of these things which are called misfortunes not one harms

law. What then does not harm law does not harm either state or citizen.

 

34. To him who is penetrated by true principles even the briefest precept

is sufficient, and any common precept, to remind him that he should be

free from grief and fear. For example,—

 

“Leaves, some the wind scatters on the ground—

So is the race of men.”

 

Leaves, also, are thy children; and leaves, too, are they who cry out as

if they were worthy of credit and bestow their praise, or on the contrary

curse, or secretly blame and sneer; and leaves, in like manner, are those

who shall receive and transmit a man’s fame to after-times. For all such

things as these “are produced in the season of spring,” as the poet says;

then the wind casts them down; then the forest produces other leaves in

their places. But a brief existence is common to all things, and yet thou

avoidest and pursuest all things as if they would be eternal. A little

time, and thou shalt close thy eyes; and him who has attended thee to thy

grave another will soon lament.

 

35. The healthy eye ought to see all visible things and not to say, I

wish for green things; for this is the condition of a diseased eye. And

the healthy hearing and smelling ought to be ready to perceive all that

can be heard and smelled. And the healthy stomach ought to be with

respect to all food just as the mill with respect to all things which it

is formed to grind. And accordingly the healthy understanding ought to be

prepared for everything which happens; but that which says, Let my dear

children live, and let all men praise whatever I may do, is an eye which

seeks for green things, or teeth which seek for soft things.

 

36. There is no man so fortunate that there shall not be by him when he

is dying some who are pleased with what is going to happen. Suppose that

he was a good and wise man, will there not be at last some one to say to

himself, Let us at last breathe freely, being relieved from this

schoolmaster? It is true that he was harsh to none of us, but I perceived

that he tacitly condemns us.—This is what is said of a good man. But in

our own case how many other things are there for which there are many who

wish to get rid of us. Thou wilt consider this, then, when thou art

dying, and thou wilt depart more contentedly by reflecting thus: I am

going away from such a life, in which even my associates in behalf of

whom I have striven so much, prayed, and cared, themselves wish me to

depart, hoping perchance to get some little advantage by it. Why then

should a man cling to a longer stay here? Do not however for this reason

go away less kindly disposed to them, but preserving thy own character,

and friendly and benevolent and mild, and on the other hand not as if

thou wast torn away; but as when a man dies a quiet death, the poor soul

is easily separated from the body, such also ought thy departure from men

to be, for nature united thee to them and associated thee. But does she

now dissolve the union? Well, I am separated as from kinsmen, not however

dragged resisting, but without compulsion; for this, too, is one of the

things according to nature.

 

37. Accustom thyself as much as possible on the occasion of anything

being done by any person to inquire with thyself, For what object is this

man doing this? But begin with thyself, and examine thyself first.

 

38. Remember that this which pulls the strings is the thing which is

hidden within: this is the power of persuasion, this is life, this, if

one may so say, is man. In contemplating thyself never include the vessel

which surrounds thee and these instruments which are attached about it.

For they are like to an axe, differing only in this, that they grow to

the body. For indeed there is no more use in these parts without the

cause which moves and checks them than in the weaver’s shuttle, and the

writer’s pen, and the driver’s whip.

 

BOOK XI.

 

1. These are the properties of the rational soul: it sees itself,

analyses itself, and makes itself such as it chooses; the fruit which it

bears itself enjoys,—for the fruits of plants and that in animals which

corresponds to fruits others enjoy,—it obtains its own end, wherever the

limit of life may be fixed. Not as in a dance and in a play and in such

like things, where the whole action is incomplete if anything cuts it

short; but in every part, and where-ever it may be stopped, it makes what

has been set before it full and complete, so that it can say, I have what

is my own. And further it traverses the whole universe, and the

surrounding vacuum, and surveys its form, and it extends itself into the

infinity of time, and embraces and comprehends the periodical renovation

of all things, and it comprehends that those who come after us will see

nothing new, nor have those before us seen anything more, but in a manner

he who is forty years old, if he has any understanding at all, has seen

by virtue of the uniformity that prevails all things which have been and

all that will be. This too is a property of the rational soul, love of

one’s neighbor, and truth and modesty, and to value nothing more than

itself, which is also the property of Law. Thus then right reason differs

not at all from the reason of justice.

 

2. Thou wilt set little value on pleasing song and dancing and the

pancratium, if thou wilt distribute the melody of the voice into its

several sounds, and ask thyself as to each, if thou art mastered by this;

for thou wilt be prevented by shame from confessing it: and in the matter

of dancing, if at each movement and attitude thou wilt do the same; and

the like also in the matter of the pancratium. In all things, then,

except virtue and the acts of virtue, remember to apply thyself to their

several parts, and by this division to come to value them little: and

apply this rule also to thy whole life.

 

3. What a soul that is which is ready, if at any moment it must be

separated from the body, and ready either to be extinguished or dispersed

or continue to exist; but so that this readiness comes from a man’s own

judgment, not from mere obstinacy, as with the Christians, but

considerately and with dignity and in a way to persuade another, without

tragic show.

 

4. Have I done something for the general interest? Well then I have had

my reward. Let this always be present to thy mind, and never stop [doing

such good].

 

5. What is thy art? To be good. And how is this accomplished well except

by general principles, some about the nature of the universe, and others

about the proper constitution of man?

 

6. At first tragedies were brought on the stage as means of reminding men

of the things which happen to them, and that it is according to nature

for things to happen so, and that, if you are delighted with what is

shown on the stage, you should not be troubled with that which takes

place on the larger stage. For you see that these things must be

accomplished thus, and that even they bear them who cry out, “O

Cithaeron.” And, indeed, some things are said well by the dramatic

writers, of which kind is the following especially:—

 

“Me and my children if the gods neglect,

This has its reason too.”

 

And again,—

 

“We must not chafe and fret at that which happens.”

 

And,—

 

“Life’s harvest reap like the wheat’s fruitful ear.”

 

And other things of the same kind.

 

After tragedy the old comedy was introduced, which had a magisterial

freedom of speech, and by its very plainness of speaking was useful in

reminding men to beware of insolence; and for this purpose too Diogenes

used to take from these writers.

 

But as to the middle comedy, which came next, observe what it was, and

again, for what object the new comedy was introduced, which gradually

sank down into a mere mimic artifice. That some good things are said even

by these writers, everybody knows: but the whole plan of such poetry and

dramaturgy, to what end does it look?

 

7. How plain does it appear that there is not another condition of life

so well suited for philosophizing as this in which thou now happenest to

be.

 

8. A branch cut off from the adjacent branch must of necessity be cut off

from the whole tree also. So too a man when he is separated from another

man has fallen off from the whole social community. Now as to a branch,

another cuts it off; but a man by his own act separates himself from his

neighbor when he hates him and turns away from him, and he does not know

that he has at the same time cut himself off from the whole social

system. Yet he has this privilege certainly from Zeus, who framed

society, for it is in our power to grow again to that which is near to

us, and again to become a part which helps to make up the whole. However,

if it often happens, this kind of separation, it makes it difficult for

that which detaches itself to be brought to unity and to be restored to

its former condition. Finally, the branch, which from the first grew

together with the tree, and has continued to have one life with it, is

not like that which after being cut off is then ingrafted, for this is

something like what the gardeners mean when they say that it grows with

the rest of the tree, but that it has not the same mind with it.

 

9. As those who try to stand in thy way when thou art proceeding

according to right reason will not be able to turn thee aside from thy

proper action, so neither let them drive thee from thy benevolent

feelings towards them, but be on thy guard equally in both matters, not

only in the matter of steady judgment and action, but also in the matter

of gentleness to those who try to hinder or otherwise trouble thee. For

this also is a weakness, to be vexed at them, as well as to be diverted

from thy course of action and to give way through fear; for both are

equally deserters from their post,—the man who does it through fear, and

the man who is alienated from him who is by nature a kinsman and a

friend.

 

10. There is no nature which is inferior to art, for the arts imitate the

natures of things. But if this is so, that nature which is the most

perfect and the most comprehensive of all natures, cannot fall short of

the skill of art. Now all arts do the inferior things for the sake of the

superior; therefore the universal nature does so too. And, indeed, hence

is the origin of justice, and in justice the other virtues have their

foundation: for justice will not be observed, if we either care for

middle things [things indifferent], or are easily deceived and careless

and changeable (V. 16,