MARCVS AVRELIVS ANTONINUS THE ROMAN EMPEROR, HIS MEDITATIONS Concerning HIMSELFE: TREATING OF A NATVRALL Mans happinesse; Wherein it consisteth, and of the meanes to attaine unto it.

TRANSLATED OVT OF THE Originall Greeke; with Notes: BY MERIC CASAVBON, B. of D. and Prebendarie of CHRIST Church, Canterbury.

ECCLVS. 18.8.
What is man, and whereto serveth he?
What is his good, and what is his evill?
Ibid. 37.3.

O wicked imagination, whence camest thou in, to cover the Earth with deceit?

LONDON, Printed by M. FLESHER, for RICHARD MYNNE, in Little Britaine at the Signe of S. Paul.

MDCXXXIV.

REcensui hunc tractatum, cui titulus est. (M. Aurelius An­toninus the Emperour, His Meditations concerning Himselfe, &c. Translated out of the originall Greeke with notes) in quo nihil reperio, quod non cum utilitate Publica imprimatur, modo intra septem menses proxi­me sequentes typis mandetur.

Guil. Bray R. P. Domino Episcopo Londin. Capellanus Domesticus.
[...]
[...]

To the most R. Father in God, WILLIAM, BY THE DIVINE Providence, LORD Archbishop of Canterbury, Primat of all England, and Metropolitan, One of the Lo: of his Ma ties most Honorable privie Coun­cell; and Chancellor of the Uni­versity of Oxford My very Ho­nourable good Lord.

May it please your Grace,

I Praesent here unto you the Writings of a King. J have praesumed that You would honour that sacred Name even in a Heathen so farre, as to accept of the worke, were it but for the Authors sake. For as it may well be esteemed (in [Page]such an age as this) none of your Graces least commendations, that you are truly [...]; so J suppose your selfe ac­count it no small happines, that you live to serve so Great & Gratious a King. But if the bare Name of a King would not serve, J could add, that they are the writings of the Wisest, the Learnedst, the Bost that ever was a­mong Heathen Kings, if Historians may be credited. Jt is observed by some of them as a great argument of the Di­vine Providence, that such a Prince was provided against such times, when all things seemed to tend to ruine and confusion, and all human ordinarie meanes were thought too little to keepe the Empire standing: the happy prae­servation whereof they generally ad­scribe to the singular & extraordinarie VVisdome of this One; both in his Warres, abroad; & in his Civill govern­ment, [Page]at home. Hence it is, that as of a man of whome there is no hope, wee com­monly say, Ne Salus quidem: so was it used as a Proverbe in afterages by some of them, of a State irrecoverably gone, and declined, Ne Marcus quidem. As for his Learning, J could wish your Grace had the leasure to per­use the historians owne words, least myne may seeme too hyberbolicall, and yet come far short of their expressions. What shall J say then of his Integritie, which is so commended by them, as it alone might well be thought sufficient without any other commendation, to make him Incomparable? And indeede J feare J have spoken but improperly, when J have mentioned his Wisedome, Learning, & Integritie, as three seve­rall Excellencies, since that (as he Him­selfe professed, & they report of him) all the Learning he was ambitious of, [Page]was but to be Wise, & all the wisedome, but to be good. The writings of such a one, J know your Grace would respect, although he had beene no King. And yet another reason, which hath made me the bolder to praesent them to your Grace is, because in reading them you shall of­ten reade your selfe: and though per­chance your Modestie will not suffer you to make the application, yet others will, J am sure, that shall reade him, and J could not but have respect unto it. Ʋ ­pon these reasons I have presumed. If beyond reason; I have no other excuse of my boldnes, but as I am,

YOUR GRACES humbly devoted Chaplain, MERIC CASAUBON.

SOME FEVV TESTI­MONIES CONCERNING ANTONINVS, AND THESE HIS BOOKES.

Out of SVIDAS.

MARCVS the Romane Emperor; whom it is easier to admire in silence then to praise, it being altogether impossible to equall his merits with any expressi­on of words. For from his youth ha­ving betaken himselfe to a compozed, and setled course of life, hoe was never seene to alter his countenance, through either feare or pleasure. Hee most approved the Stoicks, not only in their order and discipline of life, but also in their course and method of learning. He therefore from his younger yeares, became so famous and illustrious, that Adrianus intended of­tentimes to settle the Empire upon him: but having after a more legall way first setled it upon Antoninus Pius, hee never­thelesse reserved the succession of it unto Marcus. He thought good also by marriage to ally him unto Anton. Pius, that so by succession of blood also he might come to the Empire. As for Marcus, he still continued in the same private course of life, and in the like subjection as other Romans did, and was in no­thing altered by this adoption, and new affinity. And when he was come to the Empire, and had the absolute power in his hands, he was never knowne to doe any thing insolently, but as in matters of bounty he was alwaies most free, and exuberant; so in his government, he was no lesse meeke and moderate.

Againe out of the same.

MArcus Antoninus a Romane Emperour, having deser­ved in all things the commendation of a perfect Philo­sopher, &c. Hee hath written concerning the course of his owne life, twelue Bookes.

Athenagoras, a Philosopher of Athens, in his Apo­logie for the Christians addressed unto Marcus Antoninus, and his sonne Commodus, by way of humble Mediation and Intercession.

I Know well enough, that ye doe not more surpasse others in royall power and prudence, then in the exact perfection of all manner of learning: so that even they that have singled out, and wholly applied themselues to any one part, have not attai­ned to that happy perfection in that one, which ye have attai­ned unto in all parts of learning.

Iul. Capitol. in vita Marci.

ERat enim ipse tantae tranquillitatis, ut vultum nunquam mutaverit maerore vel gaudio, Philosophiae deditus Stoicae, quam et per optimos quos (que) magistros acceperat, et undi (que) ipse collegerat.

Vulcatius Gallicanus in Avidio Cassio.

NEc defuere qui illum [ Cassium, scil.] Catilinam voca­rent; cum et ipse gauderet se ita appellari, addens fu­turum se Sergium, si Dialogistam occidisset, Antoninum hoc nomine significans; qui tantum enituit in Philosophia, ut iturus ad bellum Marcommanicum, timentibus cunctis ne quid fatale proveniret, rogatus sit, non adulatione sed serio, ut praecepta Philosophiae ederet, &c.

Aurelius Victor, in Breviario.

TAntum Marco sapientiae, innocentiae, ac literarum fuit, ut is Marcommanos cum filio Commodo, quem Caesarem suffecerat, petiturus, Philosophorum ob­testantium [vi] circumfunderetur, ne se expeditioni aut [Page]pugnae prius committer et, quàm sectarum ardua et occulta explanavisset. Ita incerta belli [in] ejus salute doctrinae stu­dijs metuebantur; tantum (que) illo imperante floruere artes bonae, ut illam gloriam etiam temporum putem.

Is. C. Exercit. in Bar. pag. 85.

MVlta in hanc sententiam scribit M. Antoninus Impe­rator, in suis illis divinis libris, &c.

Idem ad ista Iulij Capit: ridens res humanas, &c. Non ridere, sed ritè, ac suo pretio aestimare res humanas solitus hic vir sapientissimus. Hoc ille nos docet, divinis illis su­is libris: velut cum ait in II. non enim tempero mihi, quin mellitissimi doctoris verba adscribam, &c.

Canterus Nou. Lect. lib. 7. cap. 1.

MArcus Aurelius Antoninus, imperator optimus, at (que) idem philosophus tantus, ut hoc meruerit proprium cognomen, duodecim conscripsit de officio suo libros, maxi­mae pietatis, humanitatis, temperantiae, eruditionis, alia­rum rerum praeclararum testes plenissimos; et cum qui­bus multorum philosophorum operosa praecepta collata, merito sordere possint. Quocirca nemo, spero, male col­locatum tempus putabit, quod in ejus operis lectionem stu­diosè quondam impendimus, cùm ex eâ praeter caetera, fru­ctum hunc retulerimus, quod ex multis vitiosis locis duo saltem dextro, si dicere licet, Aesculapio sanavimus. Ac pri­mum sub finem primi lib. ait, Lib. 1. num. XIV. [...], repetitur autem [...], sed pro [...], ego [...] legendum af­firmare nō dubito. Nam ideo mox subjungit haec, [...] Quod si, inquit, in poeticis et oratoriis studiis faeliciter progressus fuissem; nemo me inde retrahere, et ad maiora perducere facile po­tuisset. Quocirca Diis gratias ago, quod in studiis illis non nimis magnum feci profectum, nec ea nimis adamare coepi. Nec iniuria Imperator. Nam ut in homine privato tolerari fortassis queat, si natura iubente, suppetente otio, aspirante [Page]fortuna, iucunda Musarum studia paulo diutius colat, et amoenissimas sirenas, quae tamen non dent sine mente so­num, attentius ac pertinacius auscultet: Ita non potest is, quem ad res maximas gerendas, ac totius Vniversi curam natura progenuit, aliò cogitationes omnes suas, quàm ad cum scopum dirigere, et ut illum assequatur quàm citissi­me, non omnem operam dare. Sed iam ad alterum perga­mus locum. Lib. VI. num. I. In fin. lib. sexti, hanc adfert similitudinem, [...]; Quemadmodum, inquit, si nautae gubernatori, aut aegroti medico maledicerent, non facilè alium auscultarent, nec vel ille vectorum salutem, vel hic aegrotantium sanitatem procurare posset: ita cum quis ali­us nunquam alteri bene et recte monenti parere consilium capit, is non temere vel rectum vitae cursum tenere, vel post errorē in viam possit redire. Uerū quod pene oblitus eram, pro [...] legendum est [...]. Quod cum non advertisset interpres, A lanaer. alioqui doctissimus, qui (que) paucos hac aetate pares habet, alienum planè sensum commentus est. Sed profecto homines omnes sumus, et er­ramus facilime: nec reperitur hoc saeculo quisquam, qui se­curus possit medium Momo digitum ostendere.

ERRATA.

PREF. pag. 4. lin. 31. reade arbitretur. p. 5. l. 8. r. by nature. p. 21. l. 21. r. inpraecipuis.

ANTONIN. p. 33. l. 15. as a man. r. a man. p. 37. l. 20. r. cheerfully. p. 120. l. 19. Africanus. r. Adrianus. p. 121. l. 9. and that it des. r. and desireth. p. 137. l. 3. r. everflowing. p. 159. l 17. r. thou art inclosed. p. 162. l. 10. r. shall they that are of my K. p. 172. l. 20. r. of or for any th. p. 179. l 26. r. soe then. p. 182. l. 23. for shame. r. for dance. p. 183. l. 29. r. Io Cith. p. 184. l. 25. r. of life. p. 186. l. 3. r. common it is. p. 196. l 4. r. after greene figges. p 198. l. 11. r. nev. beginne to live.

NOTES. p. 40. l. 3. r. [...]. p, 43. l. 15.16. [...] must be put out. ibid. l. 25. r. Iam. p. 44. l. 28. r. and be.

TO THE READER.

THis Booke (of what worth I say not; but more men, I feare, will commend it, then will know how to make use of it:) after it had for so many ages undeservedly beene buryed in darkenesse: is now first; if I may not say brought unto light, yet at least made com­mon and intelligible. Twice it is true, within these 80. yeares it hath already beene set out in its owne originall Greeke: and set out both times with a Latin Tran­slation, much revised and corrected in the latter edition. Yet such are those editions, both of them, so confused, and so corrupt; and such is the Translation in both the E­ditions, so imperfect often, and imperti­nent; that I say not so absurd and errone­ous, as that it is not easie to determine, whe­ther it be harder to understand Antoninus his meaning by the Greeke that is printed; [Page]or the Greeke that is printed, by the Tran­slatiō of it: but that of both we may bold­ly and peremptorily conclude; of the one, that it cannot possibly bee understood, as it is printed; and of the other, that it would be more for the credit of the Author (a man otherwise acknowledged very learned:) if wee did take no notice of it at all. I must adde besides, that there hath beene many yeares agoe a certaine Booke, first written in Spanish, and since translated into Itali­an, French, English, and how many tongues more I know not; pretended by the Title to be a Translation of M. Aurel. Antoninus. But that the Author of it, (a learned Spaniard) was in good earnest, I could never have beleeved, and would have thought I had done him great wrong to say it, had not I read his Prefaces, where he so earnestly by reasons, such as he could finde, goes about to make his Title good, and as earnestly expostulates with men for their incredulity, who did not take his reasons for current and cleere ones. I can­not but commend his intention, which [Page]certainely was to doe good; but his way I much abhorre, and wonder as much at his judgement and discretion. Sure I am that by his whole booke it doth not ap­peare, that hee had ever so much as seene that himselfe, which his Title doth pro­mise unto others, M. Aurel. Antoninus his booke: which either must bee this here, or none. For besides this, there is not any other, that ever was extant. For as for those other writings of his, which either he himselfe in his second booke, or Capi­tolinus in his life, or Nicephorus in his Ec­clesiasticall Historie (lib. 3. cap. 31.) or a­ny others mention, they mention them as books written, and composed by him, but not as ever publikly extant; which if they had, Suidas, or whosoever they be, whom Suidas in his Dictionary, in the word Mar­cus, doth alleage, would not have omitted them. Thus much I thought good here briefly to acquaint the Reader with; who if he please, may receive further satisfacti­on, by the ensuing Discourse.

A DISCOVRSE BY WAY OF PREFACE: Concerning The Vse and Subject of this Booke: The Author ANTONINUS; And this Translation of it.

OF all the severall sects and pro­fessions of Philosophers that e­ver were knowne or heard of in the world, there was not any that ever did hold maximes and opinions so contrary to flesh and blood; never any that was judged even by the learned Heathens themselves (witnesse learned Plutarch, who hath written a whole Booke of this very subject:) so grossely and manifestly to oppose nature, and to over­throw all grounds and principles of humane sense or reason, as the Stoicks did. And yet of all sects and professions, never any, that either with the best was of more credit, or with the vulgar more plausible. So plausible and popular, that there have beene times, Lucian in Her­motimo, & Is: C. ad ista Pers. Si Cynico barbā petulans, &c. pag▪ 165. when the number of the Stoicks alone, did exceed all the followers and professors of all other sects being put together. A thing the more to be wondred at, be­cause [Page 2]that for that very reason, Christianity (though nothing so harsh in comparison:) hath ever by them of contrary professions, beene much opposed and contra­dicted. Of this a maine reason I conceive to have beene, that the Stoicks, though by their particular Tenets and opinions, they might seeme of all others most to oppose nature, yet that which they proposed unto themselves as the end of their lives, and the ground of all their Philosophie; that which they did ever sound in the eares of men and presse them with, was [...], to live according to nature. [...]: B. V. N. IX. Re­member that philosophie requireth no more at thy hands, then what thine owne nature doth re­quire, and leads thee unto: saith Antoninus. [...]. B. VI. N. XXV. What acruell and unnaturall thing would it bee to restraine men from the pursuite of those things, which they conceive to themselves and their owne nature, See Ant. B. V. Numb. I. most proper and convenient? So they all speake, and that which they all generally did most beate upon, was this. Now whether the particular meanes which they did cōmend & propose unto that end, were indeed proper and natu­rall unto that end, unto which they did propose them, I will not here dispute. For the end, whether true or pretended, is that which men usually take most notice of. As for the meanes, how direct or indirect to that end, is not so easilie discerned. Their end therefore, being of it selfe so plausible and acceptable, I con­ceive it to have beene the thing especially, which made their doctrin and philosophie so too. And I am as [Page 3]verily perswaded, that a conceit and opinion many Christians have, that most of those things which are reproved in them as sinnes and vices, agree best with their natures; and many, if not most, of those duties that are required of thē as Christians, are against, not depraved and corrupted only, which is not properly na­ture; but absolutely against the nature of man: and in generall that divine law and humane sense and reason, are things contrary and opposite; is that as much as any thing that doth discourage them from the intent practice and study of those things, which they by their profession cannot but acknowledge themselves bound unto. For it is not more naturall to a man to love his owne flesh, (which the Apostle witnesseth, no man ever hated:) then to love nature, and what he con­ceives to bee according to nature. Though it bee not so, yet if hee conceive it so, he affects it naturally, and in time it becomes naturall unto him indeed.

Now concerning Christianity, I know it is the opi­nion of many, that, matters of Faith and the Sacra­ments only excepted, there is nothing in the whole Gospell which is not juris naturalis, and most agreea­ble to humane reason. For my part, as I would not take upon mee, See Hugo Grot. de jure Belliac P. lib. 1. cap. 2. § 6. to maintaine their opinion precisely true in all points, and circumstances; so I must needs say, if wee esteeme that naturall, which naturall men of best account by the meere strength of humane rea­son, have taught and taken upon them to maintaine as just and reasonable, I know not any Euangelicall pre­cept, or duty belonging to a Christians practice, (even the harshest, and those that seeme to ordinary men most contrary to flesh and blood, not excepted,) but up­on [Page 4]due search and examination, will prove of that na­ture. I say upon due search and examination. Many have touched upon this point, rather to shew the way unto others, then by way of undertaking themselves: among others, of late, the best able that I know now living to performe this or any thing else that belongs to a generall and compleate Scholler, M r. Hugo Gro­tius, in his collection and Translation of Greeke sen­tences. There be too, I know, that have undertaken much in this kinde: but of whom (as many as I have seene:) I may boldly say (and the more boldly be­cause I name none:) that in many respects they have performed but little. I wish it with all my heart, that some able and judicious man would thinke it worth his labour and paines: were it but to this end, that the harshnesse which many Christians (though Christi­ans, yet flesh and blood they will say) doe conceive to be in many divine precepts, might bee mollified and lessned, when it shall appeare that the very same things did not seeme harsh to them, that (in comparison of them whom God hath called by more speciall and super­naturall illumination:) were nothing but flesh and blood. That they who as men can so hardly prevaile upon themselves to strive against nature, and to yeeld to those things which they conceive against all hu­mane sense and reason; might be of another minde, when they shall see that mere naturall men, who in hu­mane sense and reason, of all others most excelled, have both esteemed themselves bound by nature, and others most unnaturall that refused, to follow or to forbeare those very things: ut quivis arbitratur (saith Minutius F. though upon another occasion) [Page 5] aut nunc Christianos philosophos esse, aut phi­losophos fuisse jam tunc Christianos. But not to prosecute this generall any further at this present. Of all Bookes in this kinde that ever have beene written by any Heathens. I know not any which either in re­gard of it selfe, (for the bulke thereof;) or in regard of the Author, deserves more respect, then this of Marcus Antoninus; sonne by name of Annius Ve­rus (a man of great qualitie in Rome) and adopted sonne of Antoninus Pius, a Romane Emperour, whom also hee succeeded in the Empire about the yeare of our Lord 162, or 163. The chiefest subject of the Booke, is, the vanity of the world and all worldly things, as wealth, honour, life, &c. and the end and scope of it, to teach a man how to submit himselfe whol­ly to Gods providence, and to live content and thank­full in what estate or calling soever. But the Booke, I doubt not, will sufficiently commend it selfe, to them who shall bee able to read it with any judgement, and to compare it with all others of the same subject, writ­ten either by Christians or Heathens: so that it bee remembred that it was written by a Heathen: that is, one that had no other knowledge of any God, then such as was grounded upon naturall reasons meerely: no certaine assurance of the Immortality of the soule; no other light whereby he might know what was good or bad, right or wrong, but the light of nature, and humane reason. Which though it were, (such as it was) from God the Author of nature (as what is not?) yet inregard it was not by any revelation, or a­ny other extraordinary meanes, is therefore called hu­mane and naturall. As for the Booke it selfe then, to [Page 6]let it speake for it selfe; In the Author of it two maine things I conceive very considerable, which because by the knowledge of them, the use and benefit of the Booke may bee much the greater then otherwise it would bee, I would not have any ignorant of. The things are these: first, that he was a very great man, one that had good experience of what he spake; and se­condly, that he was a very good man, one that lived as he did write, and exactly (as farre as was possible to a naturall man,) performed what hee exhorted o­thers unto.

For the first, I have alwayes thought that it was not without Gods especiall Providence, that of all them that once were the peculiar people of God, hee was cho­sen to write against the vaine pleasures and delights of this world, who of all the rest had had most know­ledge and experience of those things, that hee did write against. A poore man may from his heart per­chance declaime against the vanity of wealth, and pleasures; and a private man, against the vanity of honour, and greatnesse; it may be from their hearts, but it is ever suspicious, and therefore of lesse power and efficacie. Suspicious I meane, that they are an­gry with that they would faine, and cannot get them­selves; yea, and perchance inveigh of purpose, that by inveighing (an ordinary thing in the world:) they may get that which they inveigh against. But at the best, that they make a vertue of necessitie; that they speake against they know not what; and though they meane sincerely, as now; yet if they were in place them­selves, God knowes what minde they would be of. And the event indeed, doth justifiie these suspicions [Page 7]but too often. But when a man shall heare such a one as Salomon was, speaking in this manner: I said in my heart, Goe to now, I will proove thee with mirth &c. I made me great workes, &c. I made mee gardens and orchards, &c. I made me pooles of water, &c. I got mee servants and maidens, &c. I gathered mee silver and gold, &c. So I was great, &c. And whatsoever mine eyes desired, I kept not from them, I withheld not my heart from any joy, &c. Then I looked on all the workes that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to doe; and behold, all was vanitie and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the Sunne. Is there any man so bewitched, and besotted with worldly wealth and pleasure, whom such a confession from such a one, will not move for a while at the least? And if this of Sa­lomon, who at first had received such measure of Grace and illumination from God, that it may be more justly wondred, that he ever did any thing contrary to this profession, then that he should professe so much; how much more should that confession of Antoninus move us, dilated here by him and inlarged into XII. bookes and briefly expressed and summed up in these words of his eight Booke. B. VIII. N. I. [...]. Thou hast already had sufficient experience, that of all the things that hitherto thou hast wandred and erred about, thou couldst not finde happinesse in any of them: not in syllo­gismes, and Logicall subtilties; not in wealth, not in honour and reputation; not in pleasure: in [Page 8]none of all these. Of Antoninus I say, a meere Hea­then, lead by humane reason only; Antoninus a man for worldly wealth and greatnesse so farre greater then Salomon, as Lord and Master I dare say of more great Kingdomes, then Salomon was of great townes in all his Kingdome; Antoninus, a man for his good­nesse and wisedome, by all men during his life, had in that honour and reputation, as never man either be­fore him was, or (that wee know of) ever after him.

But his goodnesse was the second consideration. It hath ever beene the complaint of all ages: There hath ever beene store enough of men that could speake well, and give good instructions: But great want of them that either could, or so much as endeavoured, to doe as they spake and taught others to doe. And what is the good that such can doe? The only good I can conceive, is, that they perswade men as much as in them lies (and they goe very effectually about it:) that [...]. That all this that we call vertue and godlinesse, so much spoken of a­mongst men, are but words and emptie sounds; that there is no such thing really existent indeed, as piety and justice, but that it is a meere fig­ment of some cunning juglers and impostors, or at the best a pretty device of Law-makers, and founders of common-wealths, to keepe silly peo­ple in awe and feare. Can any man thinke other­wise (if otherwise he be not better grounded:) that shall heare them speake and then looke upon their acti­ons? [Page 9]Such therefore in my judgement might deserve farre more thankes if they did forbeare, and would ra­ther lose the commendations of either a smooth tongue, or a ready pen, then to incurre both the just suspicion of being Atheists themselves, and the certaine guilt and crime of having made many others so. Bee it therefore spoken to the immortall praise and commen­dation of this famous Antoninus, that as [...] did write so he did live. Never did writers so conspire to give all possible testimonie of goodnesse, uprightnesse, inno­cency, and whatsoever could among Heathens be most commendable, as they have done to commend this One. They commend him, not as the best Prince on­ly, but absolutely as the best man, and best Philoso­pher that ever was. And it is his proper commenda­tion, that being so commended, hee is commended without exception. If any thing hath ever beene tal­ked against him, the Historians mention it but as a talke: not credited by them nor by any that ever were of any credit. Thus the Heathens of Him. The Chri­stians had but little reason to speake well of him, as ha­ving suffered many cruell persecutions under him: And in this case how free they have beene (some of them:) even with all extremity to enveigh against other Emperors, though much commended and magnified by the Heathens, is not unknowne. Yet I find not that ever they could fasten any thing upon our Antoninus, whereby to staine his reputation; that ever they did so much as object unto Him, these many and grievous persecutiōs which they did suffer under him, as his owne act, or charge Him therefore of crueltie. And though it be granted, that Antoninus gave way [Page 10]to those persecutions, which certainly he could not al­together be ignorant of; yet to them that know the state of those dayes, it can be no wonder, that such a thing should happen in the dayes of such a Prince as Antoninus was. When Christians, besides the infa­my of many horrible crimes, as common incest, homi­cide, &c. which (such was the power of calumny:) lay upon them; were generally accounted no better, then meere Atheists and Epicures. For indeed A­theists, Christians, and Epicures, were commonly joyned together as names, if not of the same significa­tion, yet of very great affinity, and hardly distingui­shed by the vulgar, but that of the three, the Christi­an was thought the worst. Let it be then Antoninus his commendation, the greater and the more incredi­ble in this age, the more the age is full of dissimulation and hypocrisie, that hee was not (as now they rightly stile themselves, whom the common received Names of Christians, and Protestants will not content, such is their Zeale and puritie they thinke:) a Professor: as he spake and wrote, so he did. His meditations were his actions. His deeds (so still you remember Him a man and a Heathen:) did agree with his sentences. [...], &c. And againe, [...], &c. That hee did not only as he spake, but what he did, he did it out of meere love to ver­tue. That it was a cleere case, which no man doubted of, that hee was in very deed a good man; so incapable was he of any dissimulation. So Dio of him, and so others. And now that I have spoken so much of Antoninus his life, it will not bee a­misse [Page 11]to say somewhat of that surname the Philoso­pher, which by many hath beene given and appropri­ated to this Emperor. In so much as Xylander, though he found it not at all (as hee confesseth) in his MS. yet thought it fitting to adde it in the Title, and Inscription of these bookes as his proper and usu­all Cognomen. But sure enough it is (as hath beene observed by learned men:) that this Title of Philo­sopher was never taken by Antoninus himselfe, nor given unto him by others, as a proper surname, as his father Antoninus was surnamed PIUS, and o­thers otherwise, but only as a deserved Elogium and testimonie, at the discretion of them that either did speake unto Him, or wrote of Him. And so indeed it was very commonly, and even by those learned and Pious Christians, that directed Apologies unto Him for the Christians, adscribed unto him as an Elogium, and Testimonie: just indeed and deserved, but arbi­trary and not proper unto Him, by way of a Cognomen or surname.

But, an Elogium and testimony of what think you? of his great learning (as we take learning now;) and progresse in the Sciences? Read him himselfe, and judge how much he would have esteemed such a com­mendation. A man would thinke, if Heathens, through their ignorance of the true God, and of his truth, had beene mistaken in the true application of words of praise or dispraise, that wee, by the helpe of a better light, might have rectified them, and not fol­lowed their examples. But now it is fallen out quite contrary. Who they be that the holy Scriptures usual­ly call wise; who they to whom they adscribe know­ledge [Page 12]and understanding; and who they are, who by them are termed fooles, blinde, ignorant, and the like, is not unknowne unto any. So spake the An­cient Heathens, when they would speake properly. He that was an honest upright, vertuous man, without dissimulation and hypocrisie, though hee were such a one as had never beene brought up to learning, yea such a one as could neither read nor write, was their [...] their good scholler, their learned man, their Philosopher. His life and his actions, were all that they stood upon, though in­deed they were of opinion, that it was very difficult, if not altogether impossible, for a man to come to the knowledge, of that which was right and wrong, just or unjust, and by consequent of true vertue, without much studie and paines taking. On the other side, an unjust man, a cunning, an intemperate; in generall, a vicious man, was their [...] their Illiterate, their Ignorant, their Idiot. The most or­dinary distinction was, of an Idiot, and a Philoso­pher. Neither was this the proper language of the Stoicks (which sect our Antoninus was much addicted unto:) but of the Platonicks likewise, and of most o­thers. But the maine and principall property, whereby they did distinguish a Philosopher from all other men, was that he did all things [...], with a re­lation unto God and his Providence; [...], as Epictetus (in Arrianus) speaketh. This you shall finde that Antoninus doth much stand upon. For indeed they did esteeme it the very character and essentiall note of a philosopher. In so much as that if any man seemed never so just and [Page 13]upright in his actions, yet if it were not [...], they esteemed him little more then a meere Idiot.

Much more I had here to say concerning this matter, both in defence of Plato (whose name hath much suf­fered through some mens ignorance of the true sense of this word Philosophus) and for the clearing of ma­ny obscure places of Antoninus, which otherwise I thinke will hardly be understood. But because I feare it would make the bodie of this Preface to swell too much beyond the proportion of the rest, See Notes upon B. VIII. N. I. and that in the Notes it will come in well enough, I will reserve it un­to that place.

Now for this my Translation of Antoninus, which is the last thing wee are to speake of, were it so that this Booke were as commonly knowne, and as easie to be got as many others of lesse worth are, I should bee well content to spare my labour, and referre it wholly to the judgement of the Reader. But for as much as by my owne experience I know the Booke, (though twice printed,) to be so rare, that it is not to bee found in many private studies, and sometimes not for many yeares together, in any Booke-sellers shop: (I was be­holding to learned M r. Holsworths well furnished li­brary for the first sight, and long use of the latter and better Edition; as also for the use of many other Bookes:) and that the Latine Translation of Xylan­der, hath beene commended and approved by the most learned ( doctissimus; eruditissimus Interpres; vir profundae eruditionis, &c. So they speake of him:) I doe thinke it very necessary, both that I should give the Reader that satisfaction, that I doe not actum a­gere, and doe my selfe that right, that whereas I take [Page 14]upon me to translate Marcus Antoninus Augustus, I may not be suspected to have translated Guilielmus Xylander Augustanus. Indeed what might bee expected from Xylanders Interpretation, may be col­lected by his owne ingenuous intimation, both in his Preface, where he is faine to Apologize for it, that he durst undertake it, professing that in quibusdam hee was constrained, to divinare & audacter à codice Graeco aut usu communi recedere; as also in his Notes, where his words are, Sunt autem passim per­multa, in quibus ariolo magis quam Interprete opus sit: And that he doth so indeed, it doth but too manifestly appeare by his Translation. For I dare boldly say, and doe him no wrong, that sometimes in a whole page, he hath not two lines of Antoninus his sense, and meaning. Besides the liberty that hee takes unto himselfe to supply of his owne head, to leave out sometimes words, sometimes lines, to change and al­ter at his will; without any reason given for it, or so much as the Reader acquainted with it. And where­as Xylander puts the fault of all this upon the corrup­tion and imperfection of the copie, I cannot any wayes approve it. For first, as I confesse the faults and corruptions of it, if in the printed copies they have not beene made more, then they were in the Ma­nuscript (which I doe not beleeve:) to be many, so of those many, I know none or very few, that may be ter­med incurable. And as for the Lacunae of it, I hope that they neither in this Translation (and what anci­ent booke is there almost but hath some?) will not bee found many. As for any greater hiatus, as perchance of many leafes together, if any shall suspect the Copie [Page 15]to have beene defective in that kinde, the method and composition of the booke being such, that it doth for the most part consist of certaine Aphorismes and Ca­nons, (they called them [...], &c.) without any certaine order or seri­es, either in regard of the whole (but that they all tend to one purpose;) or in regard of the parts them­selves: as it is not possible by the matter it selfe for any man, to determine how much more in this kinde may have beene written by Antoninus; so if there were never so much extant, yet how this that we have here, could thereby be made more perfect then it is, I doe not see. Their conceit, who by reason of this unde­pendance of matters, would have the whole booke to be but excerpts and [...] of a greater, and better compacted worke; there being so many other bookes both sacred and prophane written in the same kinde; and Epictetus (the Patterne of all latter Stoicks:) his Enchiridion among the rest, it can at the best passe but for a meere conceit, and needs I hope no other re­futation.

To tell you then what I have done, and that you may be the better satisfied that I except not against Xylanders Interpretation without cause, it remaines that for a Specimen I produce some few passages, by which it will be easie for any to judge of the rest. But first I must faithfully professe that my purpose in all this is not any wayes to detract, either from Xylander himselfe, or from the judgement of those learned men, by whom he hath beene highly commended, but rather to follow (after my best abilitie:) Xylanders owne ex­ample; whom for his great paines, and labour in his [Page 16]life-time to further and promote learning, I acknow­ledge to have deserved much honour & respect from all that love learning. I might adde that I shall deal with him more ingenuously too, then some others have done, who take upon them to correct some corrupt places of Antoninus, which Xylander in his Translation, where­of they take no notice, had already plainly corrected. But now to Antoninus.

Where Antoninus in his first Booke saith, that hee learned by his Fathers example, that it is not impos­sible for a man that lives at the Court, B. I. N. XIV. [...]. To live almost a private mans life, for matter of worldly pompe, and magnificence, and all outward shew and appearance (expressed by him before more at large:) and yet for all that, not to be a whit the more base and pusillanimous, or lesse stout or resolute in any publike affaires that shall require the power and authoritie of a Prince and Commander: he translates it, Bas. Edit. pag. 174. sed licere ei proximum privato ho­mini habitum sumere: imò verò eum splendo­rem, eos qui principes rempublicam gerere ve­lint, demissiores, segnioresque efficere. Which neither of it selfe affords any tolerable sense, and is as wide from Antoninus his meaning, as any thing that could have beene conceived.

In the eight booke Antonius saith that [...]: Pas. Edit. 247. That the common Na­ture (which was one of the many Synomina's, by which the Stoicks did expresse God:) doth distribute all [Page 17]things in equalitie, as matter, forme, duration, and the like; and then adds, [...]; This equalitie, thou shalt ob­serve, not if absolutely thou shalt goe to com­pare all the particulars of any one thing by them­selves, with the particulars of another by them­selves: [...], (it is printed, [...], &c.) [...]; that is, B. VIII. N. VI. but if thou consider all the particulars of any one thing together, with all the particulars of ano­ther, together likewise. His meaning is, that eve­ry naturall thing in his owne kinde, that is, after a Ge­ometricall, though not Arithmeticall equalitie, is e­qually perfect: an Ant, as perfect in her quantitie, as an Elephant and Whale, so great and vast, in theirs. As strong for her little proportion of body, and other circumstances of her nature, and as long lived, as any other creature; and so of all other things, if all things be well considered. And this doth not only extend to things of severall kinds and natures; but even to those that are of the same. It is a very pleasant and usefull speculation, as it may be prosecuted and applied, and it is very fully expressed by Antoninus. After this (as his manner is:) abruptly passing to another matter, [...], saith he to himselfe (for so must the words be distinguished, which in the Greeke are viciously joyned and confounded— [...], &c.) by way of objection, and then immediately answers, [...], &c. Thou hast no time nor op­portunitie to reade bookes; What then? Hast [Page 18] thou not time and opportunitie to practise thy selfe not to doe any wrong: (to thy selfe I under­stand it; that is, to thy soule according to Plato's do­ctrine, followed and expressed by Antoninus, in those words at the beginning of the second booke, [...], &c. and againe at the end of the same booke more at large:) to resist and over­come all paines and pleasures, to contemne ho­nour and vaine glory, and not only not to be an­gry with those whom thou dost find unsensible, and unthankfull towards thee, but also to have a care of them still, and of their welfare? Conferre this with other like passages of Antoninus, See B. V. N. V. B. VII. N. XXXVIII. both for forme and matter, and you will thinke that nothing could be plainer. All this is expressed by Xylander: Considera autem aequalitatem eam, inventurum te si singulas res examines; sin unam cum uni­versis conferas, non item. and then he leaves a blanck, and beginnes a new line; Atqui licet libidi­nem arcere, voluptatibusque & doloribus superi­orem esse, itemque gloriola: licet etiam stupidis & ingratis non irasci.

Some three or foure pages from the beginning of the seventh Booke, B. VII. N. XVIII. Bas. edit. 234. [...](saith Antoni­nus:) [...] See Note 2. upon B. II. [...]; That an angry countenance, (saith he) is much against nature, hence maist thou gather, because oftentimes it is the proper countenance of them that are at the point of death; [and a [Page 19]forerunner of death as it were.] But were it so that all anger and passion were so throughly quen­ched in thee, that it were altogether impossible that it should be kindled any more, yet [herein must not thou rest satisfied, but] further endeavour by good consequence of true ratiocination per­fectly to conceive and understand, that all anger and passion is against reason: For if thou shalt not be sensible of thine innocencie, as it is in­nocencie; if that also shall bee gone from thee, [the comfort of a good conscience, See B. III. N. VII. XI. XIII. B. VIII. N. II. that thou doest all things to thy utmost power according to Reason:] what shouldest thou desire to live any longer for? All this is by Xylander contracted into these few words; Irati vultus omnino est contra naturam, quando saepius immoriendi sit praetextus, pag: 251. aut ad extremum extinctus est, ut omnino inflammari non potuerit. Hoc ipso intelligere labora, iram a ratione esse alienam. Nam si etiam sensus pec­cati nullus erit, quae erit vivendi causa?

At the end of the fift booke, Antoninus having spo­ken of some vanities, addes [...]. O man hast thou forgot­ten what things these are? yea, but howsoever, they are things that other men much care for; saith he, by way of objection; then answeres, [...] Wilt thou therefore be a foole also? it is enough that thou hast already beene one so long. And then passes to another mat­ter: [...]. Let death sur­prise [Page 20]a man where and when it will. It is more then it can doe to make him therefore unhappy. He is an happy man, who (in his life time) dealeth unto himselfe a happy lot and portion. A hap­py lot and portion is; good inclinations of the soule; good motions, and desires, good actions. This passage cannot well bee translated, because wee have never a word answerable to the Greeke [...] which Antoninus here elegantly, and acutely playes upon, which may signifie, either in generall a happy man, or in particular one that dyes happily: but pro­perly signifies one that hath obtained a good part and portion. Howsoever, to render it as it may bee ren­dred, the sense is very tolerable. Now Xylander ha­ving found the words somewhat confused, and incor­rect, (for it is printed [...], &c.) translates them: Propte­ria tu quoque stultus es factus? Aliquando ut­cunque relictus, factus sum faelix: Faelicitas autem est, &c.

At the end of the seventh Booke, Antoninus his words are, [...]. That the place must be so read and cor­rected (if any man make a question of it:) I will bee judged by Antoninus himselfe B. VI. N. 39. B. IX. 26. not to mention others, as Arrianus lib. 1. cap. 12. Ven. Edit. pag. 21. The nature of the Uni­verse, saith he, did once certainely deliberate and resolve upon the creation of the world. What­soever [Page 21]therefore, since that, is and happens in the world, is either but a consequent of that first, and one deliberation; (by which all things by a necessa­ry and uninterrupted series of causes, were ordained and appointed to bee:) or if so be that this Ruling rationall part of the world, takes any thought and care of things particular, They are surely his reasonable and principall creatures, that are the proper object of his particular care and provi­dence. This often thought upon, will much con­duce to thy tranquillitie. I take [...] here, as spoken of the same that [...]; to which purpose hee hath other passages, that reasonable creatures are the chiefest creatures. Yet if any man would rather have it; [...], &c. reasonable creatures are his chiefest objects, I will not bee a­gainst it, and it will bee all one thing. But who could beare with Xylander his Interpretation, Universi natura olim ad mundum fabricandum se contulit: nunc autem vel omnia quae fiunt, consequentia fiunt sua: vel etiam in principiis eorum, ad quae se mundi gubernatrix natura confert, rationi nul­lum locum esse & consilio, tenendum est. Hoc si memoria teneas, multis in rebus animo ut sis tranquilliori, efficiet.

An easie matter it were to adde to these many more such passages, if I thought it as necessary, as it would be easie. They that shall take the paines (and it will be worth their paines I dare promise them) to compare diligently the Translations with Antoninus himselfe, will, I doubt not, before they have gone one or two Bookes over, be of my minde. I have of purpose [Page 22]made choise of such places especially, where I have made bold somewhat to correct the Text. I say bold, but no bolder I will maintain, then any reasonable man must, and ought, that doth undertake any such work. For I have not (to my knowledge:) by my Translati­on altered any one place in this kinde in the whole booke, but such as by certaine proofes and demonstrati­ons from Antoninus himselfe, I can maintaine. Those places that I thought any thing doubtfull, I have gi­ven account of them to the Reader in my Notes. And if I have left any for desperate, as either imperfect or not intelligible by me, I may truly say, that had I ta­ken to my selfe but the tenth part of the libertie, which Xylander doth usually throughout the whole book; I nee­ded not to have left any such places at all. And I make no question, but that in so doing, I might have given to many content and satisfaction good enough. But considering how much this libertie is commonly abu­sed, and how prejudiciall it proves to good Authors, I have rather chosen sometimes to say lesse then I might, then to give unto others an example of this bold kinde of dealing with ancient Authors. The chiefest ground of all the obscurity in the Booke, is, that Antoninus having beene all his life an indefati­gable student, and so read a world of writers of all sorts, his manner is in these his bookes, as he rend any thing that made for his present purpose, closely and briefly to allude unto it, by some short meditation up­on it: sometimes barely to excerpt some words, which either he had an especiall liking unto, or afterward in­tended further to meditate upon, without any mention of the place or Author from whence they are taken. [Page 23]Now many of these Authors being quite perished, many of his allusions so close and obscure, that though the Authors be yet extant, yet it is not easie to finde from whence, or of whom, nor to what intent or pur­pose: it must not be wondred, if not only many places seeme obscure, but some also of little worth and use; because, it doth not appeare, what further use Anto­ninus had of them in his minde. Howsoever to them that are any thing versed in the writings of ancient Philosophers, Stoicks especially, there will not occurre many such places. If a man take but Arrianus, and Seneca, and compare them diligently with Antoni­nus, he will finde a marvellous consent, and many ob­scure short places of Antoninus, illustrated and ex­plained by their larger discourse. I have done it in some few places, which I thought could not well other­wise be understood. And for the rest, I leave them to every diligent Readers industrie. Neither indeed would I have put my selfe to the labour of writing any Notes at all, if the booke could as well have wanted them, as I could easilie have found as well, or better to my minde, how to bestow my time. However as I thought some would be needfull, so did I thinke also, that if in the former Bookes, I did give satisfaction to the Reader, I might afterwards be spared, and ei­ther be trusted my selfe, or trust to the Readers dili­gence and abilitie for the rest. Wheresoever by sup­plying a word or two in the Text, I thought I could helpe the sense, and illustrate the matter sufficiently; to spare my selfe a Note, and for the ease of the Reader, I have done it. All such additions to the Text, you shall finde within two such [] markes included. And [Page 24]whereas those former passages by me produced wherein I except against the Latine Translation, are all such as could not be well translated without some correction of the Text, that it may not bee thought, that in such places only it is amisse, I have for the further satis­faction of the Reader (the bookes as hath already been said, being so scarce and hard to become by:) taken occasion in my Notes, now and then to instance in some other passages, wherein there can be no such exception. In the Author himselfe I feare exception will be ta­ken, at many places, as meere repetitions; at some o­thers, wherein he seemeth to contradict what hee had said before. But if the Readers consider, first, that what Antoninus wrote, he wrote it not for the publick, but for his owne private use; and secondly, that An­toninus his words are so intermingled every where with his Excerpta that it doth not well appeare what is his owne, and what is not; as in regard of the first consideration they will, I doubt not, allow him farre more libertie then otherwise were fitting: so in regard of the second, I presume they will yeeld both those ma­ny suspected repetitions in the Bookes, and those few supposed contradictions, the one perchance to be but se­verall collections of one subject and to one purpose from severall Authors; and the others certainely, ra­ther the different opinions of different Authors con­cerning the same thing, then the contradictions of one man, inconstant to himselfe. And as for such places which may give offence, as repugnant to our Christi­an faith, and impious; as when hee seemeth to speake doubtfully of God, and his Providence; and to ad­scribe all things to Fatall necessity, and the like: I [Page 25]shall but desire the Readers to remember who hee was that wrote, and I hope they will desire no other satis­faction in this point. For that any Christian should expect from any out of the Church and without the Scriptures perfect sound knowledge in these high points would be no small wonder to mee: it being both the happinesse of every the meanest Christian, that he may know more in these mysteries, then the greatest Philosophers could ever, with all their wit and lear­ning attaine unto; and the proper priviledge of the di­vine Scriptures, that from them only all solid truth in points of this nature, is to be expected. However that Antoninus may not want any just defence that his cause doth afford, the Reader must further be intrea­ted not to judge of his opinions, by one or two short pas­sages here and there, occurrent, which whether they be his or no (as we have already said) is hard to deter­mine; but to have a respect to other more large, and peremptory passages concerning the same purpose else­where to be found. As for example concerning God and his Providence, to B. II. Num. VIII. B. V I. Num. XXXIX. &c. and concerning Fatall necessitie not only to the same Lib. II. Num. VIII. but also to divers other places, as B. VIII. Num. 6.27.30.32.46. &c. by which places as it doth plainly ap­peare, that he doth exclude all manner of Necessitie from humane wils and actions, so doth it appeare by o­ther passages, as Lib. 8 Num. 33. that he did not al­together exclude from all divine providence not even those actions of men, that are most contrary to the will of God: from which place moreover may appeare what it is that he often calls [...], Fate, or De­stiny; [Page 26]which in his meaning is no other then (as by divers other Philosophers also it is expounded) Gods order and providence in matters of the world: to which purpose hee doth also expound the word For­tune, B. I. Num. XVII. On the other side, al­though he doth every where very absolutely maintaine this libertie of mans will, and that he was not ac­quainted with the mysterie of originall sinne, and na­turall concupiscence; yet shall you not finde in him those blasphemies, in exaltation of this humane power and libertie, which you shall in Seneca, and other Stoicks: neither did he (it should seeme, though but an Hea­then:) so much rely upon it, but that he doth very pi­ously commend prayers, as very powerfull and effectu­all unto vertue. See lib. IX. Num. XL. Now if An­toninus himselfe being a Romane, for the propriety and facilitie of his expressions (wherein the Latine tongue, in matter of Philosophie, comes as short of the Greeke, as the English doth of the Latine:) did in the composing of these his Bookes preferre the Greeke tongue before his owne mother tongue; no man I hope will expect, that all things should in this Translation runne so smoothly, as in another kinde of Translation happily they might. But herein I must confesse my feare is for Antoninus, more then for my selfe. For first whereas he, being (I thinke) as well acquainted with ancient writers and philosophers as ever any was, doth every where very strictly and carefully ob­serve their proper choise words and termes, which both make the sense it selfe more current, and pleasing; and for a Scholler to know them and to be acquainted with them, is in many respects very usefull; This in [Page 27]the Translation must needs be lost, and by consequent so much lost to Antoninus, of his due praise and commendation. And secondly, whereas in all these his XII. bookes there be not many lines (if any:) which if well considered, will not be found either to be taken out of some ancient Author, or at least by way either of Exception, Confirmation, Illustration, and the like, to either passage or opinion of some ancient to have some relation; as to Schollars I know whatsoever is in this kinde, be it otherwise what it will, cannot but bee acceptable and usefull, so to others I feare, many things for want of this use of it, which they are not ca­pable of, will seeme but drie and impertinent. In these two respects I cannot deny but I have done Antoninus some wrong to make him so vulgar, as I have done, and yet because I thought hee might in other respects doe good to any that should read him, if before the credit of one I have preferred the good of many I have but done what Antoninus himselfe (as by these his bookes may appeare:) would have me or any others doe in the like case.

And now in the last place, if any shall by these my paines receive any content, my desire is that they would thanke him, by whose encouragement especially I did undertake this little worke, my Reverend Kinde friend D r. Lyndsell, the right worthy Bishop of Pee­ [...]er-borough, a man for his singular worth and lear­ [...]ing in all kinde of literature, not to be named by any [...]hat know Him, without expression of all due respect [...]d admiration; and one to whom my selfe, and my [...]dies of old have beene much beholding, as I shall e­ [...]er most gladly acknowledge.

M. AVREL. ANTONINVS THE ROMANE EMPEROUR, HIS FIRST BOOKE concerning HIMSELFE: Wherein Antoninus recordeth, What and of whom, whether Parents, Friends or Ma­sters; by their good examples, or good advice and counsell, he had learned: Divided into Numbers, or Sections.

[ ANtoninus Booke VI. Num. XLIII. Whensoever thou wilt rejoyce thy selfe, thinke and meditate upon those good parts and especiall gifts, which thou hast observed in any of thē that live with thee: as industrie in one, in another modestie, in another bountifulnesse, in another some other thing. For no­thing can so much rejoyce thee, as the resemblances and parallels of severall vertues, eminent in the dis­positions of them that live with thee; especially when all at once, as it were, they represent themselves unto thee. See therefore, that thou have them alwayes in a readinesse.]

Num. I. OF my Grandfather Verus [I have learned] to bee gentle and meeke, and to refraine from all anger and passion. From the fame and memo­ry of him that begot mee [I have learned both] shame­fastnesse, and manlike beha­viour. [Page 2]Of my Mother [I have learned] to be re­ligious, and bountifull; and to forbeare, not on­ly to doe, but to intend any evill; to content my selfe with a spare dyet, and to fly all such excesse as is incidentall to great wealth. Of my great Grandfather, 1 both to frequent publike schooles and Auditories; and to get mee good and able Teachers at home; and that I ought not to think much, if upon such occasions, I were at excessive charges.

II. Of him that brought mee up, not to bee fondly addicted to [either of the two great factions of the Coursers in the Circus, called] Prasini, and Veneti: [nor in the Amphitheater] partially to fa­vour [any of the Gladiators, or fencers, as either] the Parmularij, or the Secutoriani. Moreover, to en­dure labour; not to need many things. when I have any thing to doe, to doe it my selfe [rather then by others;] not to meddle with many busi­nesses; and not easily to admit of any slander.

III. Of Diognetus, not to busie my selfe a­bout vaine things, and not 2 easily to beleeve those things, which are [commonly] spoken, by such as take upon them to worke wonders, and by Sorcerers, [or, praestigiators, and impostors;] con­cerning the power of charmes, and their driving out of Daemons, [or, evill spirits;] and the like. Not to 3 keep coturnices [or, quailes for the game;] nor to bee mad after such things. Not to be of­fended with other mens liberty of speech, and to apply my selfe unto Philosophy. [Him also I must thanke:] that ever I heard first Bacchius, then [Page 3]Tandasis, and Marcianus: and that I did write 4 Dialogues in my youth, and that I tooke liking to the [Philosophers] little couch and skinnes, and such other things, which by the Graecian disci­pline are proper [to those who professe philosophie.]

IV. To Rusticus I am beholding, that I first entred into the conceit that my life wanted some redresse, and cure. And then, that I did not fall into the ambition of [ordinary] Sophists, either to write tracts concerning the [common] Theo­rems, or to exhort men [unto vertue and the study of philosophie] by [publike] orations; as also that I never by way of ostentation 5 did affect to shew my selfe an active able man, [for any kinde of bo­dily exercises.] And that I gave over the studie of Rhetorick and Poetry, and of elegant neate language. That I did not use to walke about the house in my long robe, nor to doe any such things. Moreover [I learned of him] to write let­ters without any affectation, or curiosity; such as that was, which by him was written to my Mother from Sinoessa: and to bee easie and rea­dy to be reconciled, and well pleased againe with them that had offended mee, as soone as any of them would be content to seeke unto me againe. To read with diligence; not to rest satisfied with a light and superficiall knowledge, nor quickly to assent to things commonly spoken of: whom also I must thanke that ever I lighted upon Epi­ctetus 6 his Hypomnemata [or, morall commentaries and commonefactions:] which also hee gave me of his owne.

V. From Apollonius, true liberty, and unvari­able stedfastnesse, and not to regard any thing at all, though never so little, but right and reason: and alwayes, whether in the sharpest paines, or after the losse of a child, or in long diseases, to be still the same man; who also was a present and visible example unto mee, that it was possible for the same man to be both vehement and remisse: a man not subject to bee vexed, and offended [with the incapacitie of his Scholars and Auditors] in his lectures and expositions; and a true pat­terne of a man who of all his good gifts and fa­culties, least esteemed in himselfe, that his excel­lent skill and abilitie to teach and perswade o­thers the common Theorems, [and Maxims of the Stoick Philosophie.] Of him also I learned, how to receive favours and kindnesses (as commonly they are accounted:) from friends, so that I might not become obnoxious unto them, for them, nor more yeelding [upon occasion, then in right I ought;] and yet so that I should not passe them neither, as an unsensible and unthankfull man.

VI. Of Sextus, mildnesse and the patterne of a family governed with paternall affection; and a purpose to live according to nature: to be grave without affectation: to observe carefully the se­verall dispositions of my friends, not to be offen­ded with Idiots, nor 8 unseasonably to set upon those that are carryed with the vulgar opinions, with the Theorems, and Tenets of Philosophers: [his conversation] being an example how a man might accommodate himselfe to all men and [Page 5]companies; so that though his company were sweeter and more pleasing, then any flatterers cogging and fauning; yet was it at the same time most respected and reverenced: who also had a proper happinesse, and facultie, rationally, and methodically to finde out, and set in order all necessary Dogmata [or, determinations] and in­structions for a mans life. A man without ever the least appearance of anger, or any other passi­on; able at the same time most exactly to ob­serve the stoick Apathia, [or, unpassionatnesse] and yet to bee most tender hearted: ever of good credit; and yet almost without any noise, or ru­mor: very learned, and yet making little shew.

VII. From Alexander the Grammarian, not hastily to reprehend others, and not reproach­fully to take up any man for a barbarisme, or a solaecisme, or any false pronunciation, but dex­trously by way of answere, or testimonie, or con­firmation of the same matter (taking no notice of the word) to utter it as it should have beene spoken; or by some other such close and indirect admonition, handsomely and civilly to tell him of it.

VIII. Of Frontinus, to how much envy and fraud, and hypocrisie the state of a Tyrannous King is subject unto, & how they who are 9 com­monly called [...] [or patricii, i. nobly borne] are in some sort incapable [or, voide] of naturall affection.

IX. Of Alexander the Platonick, not often nor without great necessity to say, or to write to [Page 6]any man in a letter, I am not at leasure; nor in this manner still to put off those duties, which wee owe to our friends and acquaintances, (to every one in his kinde:) under pretence of urgent af­faires.

X. Of Catulus, not to contemne any friends expostulation, though unjust, but to strive to re­duce him to his former disposition: Freely and heartily to speake well of all my Masters [upon any occasion;] as it is reported of Domitius, and Athenodotus, and to love my children with true affection.

XI. From my Brother Severus, to be kind and loving to all them of my house and family; by whom also I came to the knowledge of Thraseas and Helvidius, and Caro, and Dio, and Brutus. Hee it was also that did put mee in the first con­ceit and desire of an equall common wealth, ad­ministred by Justice and equality; and of a King­dome wherein should be regarded nothing more then the good and welfare of the subjects. Of him also, to observe a constant tenour, (not in­terrupted, with any other cares and distractions,) in the studie and esteeme of Philosophy: to bee bountifull and liberall in the largest measure; al­wayes to hope the best; and to be confident that my friends love me. In whom I moreover ob­served open dealing towards those whom he re­proved at any time, and that his friends might without all doubt or much observation know what he would, See B. VIII. N. 58. or would not; so open and plaine was hee.

XII. From 10 Claudius Maximus, in all things to endeavour to have power of my selfe, and in nothing to be carryed about; to bee cheerefull and couragious in all suddaine chances and acci­dents, as in sicknesses: to love mildnesse, and moderation, and gravitie; and to do my busines, whatsoever it be, thorowly, and without quere­lousnesse. Whatsoever he said, all men beleeved him that as he spake, so he thought, & whatsoever he did, that he did it with a good intent. His man­ner was, never to wonder at any thing; never to be in hast, and yet never slow: nor to be perple­xed, or dejected, or at any time unseemely, [or, excessively] to laugh: nor to be angry, or suspici­ous, but ever ready to doe good, and to forgive, and to speake truth; and all this, as one that see­med rather of himselfe to have been straight and right, then ever to have beene rectified, or re­dressed: neither was there any man that ever thought himselfe undervalued by him, or that could finde in his heart, to thinke himselfe a bet­ter man then he. He would also be very pleasant and gracious.

XIII. In my Father, I observed his meeknesse; his constancie without wavering in those things, which after a due examination and deliberation, he had determined. How free from all vanity he carried himselfe in matter of honour and digni­ [...]ie, (as they are esteemed:) his laboriousnesse, [...]nd assiduitie, his readinesse to heare any man, [...]hat had ought to say, tending to any common [...]ood: how generally and impartially hee would [Page 8]give every man his due; his skill and knowledge, when rigor or extremity; when remisnesse or moderation was in season; how he did abstaine from all unchast love of youths; his moderate condescending to other mens occasions as an or­dinary man, neither absolutely requiring of his friends, that they should waite upon him at his ordinary meales, nor that they should of necessi­ty accompany him in his journies; and that whensoever any businesse upon some necessary occasions was to be put off and omitted before it could be ended, he was ever found when he went about it againe, the same man that he was before. His accurate examination of things in consultati­ons, and 11 patient hearing of others. Hee would not hastily give over the search of the matter, as one easie to bee satisfied with suddaine notions and apprehensions. His care to preserue his friends; how neither at any time hee would car­ry himselfe towards them with disdainfull neg­lect, and grow weary of them; nor yet at any time bee madly fond of them. His contented minde in all things, his chearefull countenance, his care to foresee things afarre off, and to take or­der for the least, without any noise or clamour. Moreover, how all acclamations and flattery were repressed by him: how carefully hee obser­ved all things necessary to the government, and 12 kept an account of the common expences, and how patiently hee did abide that hee was repre­hended by some for this his strict and rigid kind of dealing. How hee was neither a superstiti­ous [Page 9]worshipper of the gods, nor an ambitious pleaser of men, or studious of popular applause but sober in all things, and every where obser­vant of that which was fitting, no affecter of no­velties: in those things which conduced to his ease and convenience, (plenty whereof his for­tune did afford him,) without pride and brag­ging, yet with all freedome and libertie: so that as he did freely enjoy them without any anxie­ty or affectation when they were present; so when absent, he found no want of them. More­over, that he 13 was never commended by any man, as either a learned acute man, or an obse­quious officious man, or a fine Oratour; but as a ripe mature man, a perfect sound man; one that could not endure to be flattered; able to go­verne both himselfe and others. Moreover, how much he did honour all true philosophers, with­out upbraiding those that were not so, his soci­ablenesse, his gracious and delightfull conversa­tion, but never unto satiety; his care of his bo­dy within bounds and measure, not as one that desired to live long, or over-studious of neat­nesse, and elegancie, and yet not as one that did not regard it: so that through his owne care and providence, hee seldome needed any inward Physicke, or outward applications: but especi­ally how ingeniously he would yeeld to any that had obtained any peculiar facultie, as either Elo­quence, or the knowledge of the lawes, or of an­cient customes, or the like; and how he concur­red with them, in his best care and endeavour [Page 10]that every one of them might in his kinde, for that wherein he excelled, be regarded and estee­med: and although hee did all things carefully after the ancient customes of his forefathers, yet even of this was he not desirous that men should take notice, that hee did imitate ancient cu­stomes. Againe, how he was not easily moved and tossed up and downe, but loved to bee con­stant, both in the same places and businesses; and how after his great fits of head-ach, he would re­turne fresh and vigorous to his wonted affaires. Againe, that secrets he neither had many, nor often, and such only as concerned publike mat­ters: His discretion and moderation, in exhibi­ting of the Spectacula, [or, publike sights and showes for the pleasure and pastime of the people:] in pub­licke buildings, Congiaries, and the like. In all these things, 14 having a respect unto men only as men, and to the equity of the things them­selves, and not unto the glory that might fol­low. Never wont to use the baths at unseasona­ble houres; no builder; never curious, or solici­tous, either about his meat, or about the work­manship, or colour of his clothes, or about any thing that belonged to externall beauty. 15 ❀❀ ❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀. In all his conversation, farre from all inhumanity, all boldnesse, and incivili­tie, all greedinesse and impetuositie; never do­ing any thing with such earnestnesse and inten­tion, that a man could say of him, that hee did sweat about it: but contrariwise, all things di­stinctly, as at leasure; without trouble; orderly, [Page 11]soundly, and agreeably. A man might have ap­plyed that to him, which is recorded of Socra­tes, that he knew how to want, and to enjoy those things, in the want whereof, most men shew themselves weake; and in the fruition, in­temperate: But to hold out firme and constant, and to keepe within the compasse of true mode­ration and sobriety in either estate, is proper to a man, who hath a perfect and invincible soule; such as hee shewed himselfe in the sicknesse of Maximus.

XIV. From the gods [I received] that I had good Grandfathers, and Parents, a good Sister, good masters, good domesticks, loving kinsmen, almost all that I have; and that I never through hast, and rashnesse transgressed against any of them, notwithstanding that my disposition was such, as that such a thing (if occasion had beene) might very well have beene committed by me, but that it was the mercy of the gods, to prevent such a concurring of matters and occasions, as might make mee to incurre this blame. That I was not long brought up by the Concubine of my Father; that I preserved the flower of my youth. That I tooke not upon me to be a man before my time, but rather put it off longer then I needed. That I lived under the government of my Lord and Father, who would take away from me all pride and vaine-glory, and reduce me to that conceit and opinion that it was not impossi­ble [for a Prince] to live in the Court 16 without a troope of guards and followers, extraordinary [Page 12]apparrell, such and such torches and statues, and other like, particulars of state and magnificence; but that a man may reduce and contract him­selfe almost to the state of a private man, and yet for all that not to become the more base and remisse in those publick matters and affaires, wherein power and authority is requisite. That I have had such a Brother, who by his owne ex­ample might stirre mee up to thinke of my selfe; and by his respect and love, delight and please me. That I have got ingenuous children, and that they were not borne distorted, nor with a­ny other naturall deformity. That I was no great proficient in the study of Rhetorick and Poetry, and of other faculties, which perchance I might have dwelt upon, if I had found my selfe to goe on in them with successe. That I did by times preferre those, by whom I was brought up, to such places and dignities, which they seemed unto me most to desire; & that I did not put them off with hope and expectation, that (since that they were yet but yong:) I would doe the same hereafter. That I ever knew Apollonius, and Rusticus, and Maximus. That I have had occasion often and effectually to consi­der and meditate with my selfe, concerning that life which is according to nature, what the na­ture and manner of it is: So 17 that as for the gods and such Suggestions, helpes and inspirati­ons, as might be expected from them, nothing did hinder, but that I might have begunne long before to live according to nature; or that even [Page 13]now that I was not yet partaker and in present possession of that life, that I my selfe (in that I did not observe those inward motions, and sug­gestions, yea and almost plaine and apparant in­structions and admonitions of the gods,) was the only cause of it. That my body in such a life, hath beene able to hold out so long. That I ne­ver had to doe with Benedicta and Theodotus, yea and afterwards when I fell into some fits of love, I was soone cured. That having beene of­ten displeased with Rusticus, I never did him a­ny thing, for which afterwards I had occasion to repent: That it being so that my Mother was to die yong, yet shee lived with me all her latter yeares. That as often as I had a purpose to helpe and succour any that either was poore, or fallen into some present necessity, I never was answered [by my Officers] that there was not ready money enough to doe it; and that I my selfe never had occasion to require the like suc­cour from any other. That I have such a wife, so obedient, so loving, so ingenuous. That I had choise of sit and able men, to whom I might commit the bringing up of my children. That by dreames I have received helpe, as for other things, so in particular, how I might stay my ca­sting of blood, and cure my dizzenesse, and how thou shouldst make use of that in Cajeta [or, when thou wert as Cajeta.] And when I did first apply my selfe to Philosophie, that I did not fall into the hands of some sophists, or spent my time ei­ther in reading the manifold volumes [of ordina­ry [Page 14]Philosophers,] nor in practising my selfe in the solution of arguments and fallacies, nor dwelt upon the studies of the Metheores, [and other na­turall curiosities.] All these things without the as­sistance of the gods, and See N. XVII fortune, could not have beene.

XV. In the Countrey of the Quadi at Granua, these.

Betimes in the morning say to thy selfe, This day I shall have to doe with an idle curious man, with an unthankfull man, a railer, a crafty false, or an envious man; an 18 unsociable uncharita­ble man. All these ill qualities have hapned un­to them, through ignorance of that which is tru­ly good, and truly bad. But I that understand the nature of that which is good, that it [onely] is to be desired; and of that which is bad, that it [onely] is [truly] odious and shamefull: who know moreover, that this transgressor, whosoe­ver he be, is my kinsman, not by the same blood and seed, but by participation of the same rea­son, and of the same divine particle; How can I either be hurt by any of those, since it is not in their power, to make me incurre any thing that is [truly] reproachfull? or angry, and ill affe­cted towards him, who by nature is so neere un­to me? for we are all borne to bee fellow wor­kers, as the feet, the hands, and the eye-lids; as the rowes of the upper and under teeth: for such therefore to be in opposition, is against nature; and what is it to chafe at, and to be averse from, but to be in opposition?

X VI. Whatsoever I am, is either flesh, or life, or [that which wee commonly call] the mistris & o­ver-ruling part of man; [Reason.] Away with thy bookes, suffer not thy minde any more to be di­stracted, and carryed too and fro; See B. III. N. XV. for it will not be; but as even now readie to die, thinke little of thy flesh: 19 blood, bones, and a skin; a pretty piece of knit and twisted worke, consi­sting of nerves, veines and arteries; [thinke no more of it, then so.] And as for thy life, consider what it is: a winde; not one constant winde neither, but every moment of an houre let out, and suckt in againe. The third, is thy ruling part; and here consider; Thou art an old man; suffer not that excellent part to bee brought in subjection, and to become slavish: suffer it not to be drawne up and downe with unreasonable and [...]. See before Note 17. unsociable lusts and motions, as it were with wyres and nerves; suffer it not any more, either to repine at any thing now present, or to feare and fly any thing to come, which the De­stinie hath appointed thee.

XV II. Whatsoever proceeds from the gods [immediately,] See B. III. Num. XII. that [any man will grant] totally depends from their divine providence. As for those things that [are commonly said to] happen by Fortune, even those must bee conceived to have dependance from nature, or from that first and generall connexion, and concatenation of all those things, which [more apparantly] by the divine providence are administred and brought to passe. All things flow from thence: And what­soever [Page 16]it is that is, is both necessary, and condu­cing to the whole; part of which thou art: and whatsoever it is that is requisite and necessary for the preservation of the generall, must [of ne­cessity] for every particular nature, bee good and behoovefull. And as for the whole, it is preser­ved, as by the perpetuall mutation and conversi­on of the simple Elements one into another, so also by the mutation, and alteration of things mixed and compounded. Let these things suf­fice thee; Let them be a wayes unto thee, as thy generall rules and precepts. As for thy thirst af­ter bookes, away with it with all speed, that thou die not murmuring and complaining, but truly meeke and well satisfied, and from thy heart thankfull unto the gods.

THE SECOND BOOKE.

REmember how long thou hast already put off these things, and how often a certaine day and houre as it were, ha­ving been set unto thee by the gods, thou hast neglected it. It is high time for thee to understand the true nature both of the world, whereof thou art a part; and of that Lord and Governour of the World from whom, as a chan­nell from the spring, thou thy selfe didst flow: And that there is but a certaine limit of time [Page 17]appointed unto thee, which if thou shalt not make use of to calme and alay the many distem­pers of thy soule, it will passe away and thou with it, and never after returne.

II. Let it be thy earnest and incessant care as a Romane and a man to performe whatsoever it is that thou art about, with true and unfained gravity, naturall affection, freedome and justice: and as for all other cares, and imaginations, how thou maiest ease thy minde of them. Which thou shalt doe; if thou shalt goe about every a­ction as thy last action, free from all vanitie, all passionate and wilfull aberration from reason, and from all hypocrisie, and selfe-love, and dis­like of those things, which by the See Pref. fol. 26. fates [or, ap­pointment of God] have hapned unto thee. Thou seest that those things, which for a man to hold on in a prosperous course, and to live a divine life, are requisite and necessary, are not many, for the gods will require no more of any man, that shall but keepe and observe these things.

III. Doe, See Pref. fol. 18. and Num. 14. of this Bo: Soule, doe; abuse and contemne thy selfe; yet a while and the time for thee to respect thy selfe, will be at an end. Every mans happinesse 1 depends from himselfe, but behold thy life is almost at an end, whiles affording thy selfe no respect, thou dost make thy happinesse to consist in the soules, and conceits of other men.

IV. Why should any of these things that hap­pen externally, so much distract thee? Give thy selfe leisure to learne some good thing; and cease [Page 18]roving and wandring to and fro. Thou must al­so take heed of another kinde of wandring, for they are idle in their actions, who toile and la­bour in this life, and have no certaine scope to which to direct all their motions, and desires.

V. For not observing the state of another mans soule, scarce was ever any man knowne to be unhappy. But whosoever they be that 2 in­tend not, and guide not by reason and discreti­on the motions of their owne soules, they must of necessity be unhappy.

VI. These things thou must alwayes have in minde: What is the nature of the Universe, and what is mine in particular: This unto that what relation it hath: what kinde of part, of what kinde of Universe it is: And that there is no bo­dy that can hinder thee, but that thou mayest al­wayes, both doe and speake those things, which are agreeable to that Nature whereof thou art a part.

VII. Theophrastus, where he compares sinne with sinne (as after a 3 vulgar sense such things I grant may be compared:) sayes well and like a philosopher, that those sinnes are greater which are committed through lust, then those which are committed through anger. For he that is an­gry seemes with a kinde of griefe and close con­traction of himselfe, to turne away from reason: but he that sinnes through lust, being overcome by pleasure, doth in his very sin bewray a more impotent, and unmanlike disposition. Well then and like a philosopher doth he say, that he of the [Page 19]two is the more to be condemned, that sins with pleasure, then he that sinnes with griefe. For in­deed this latter may seeme first to have beene wronged, and so in some manner through griefe thereof to have been forced to be angry, where­as he who through lust doth commit any thing, did of himselfe meerly resolve upon that action.

VIII. Whatsoever thou doest affect, whatso­ever thou doest project, so doe, and so project all, as one who, for ought thou knowest, may at this very present depart out of this life. And as for death, if there be any gods, it is no grievous thing to leave the society of men. The gods will doe thee no hurt thou maist be sure. But if it be so that there be no gods, or that they take no care of the world, why should I desire to live in a world void of gods, and of all divine provi­dence? But gods there be certainely, and they take care for the world; and as for those things which be truly evill, as vice and wickednesse; such things they have put in a mans owne pow­er, that he might avoid them if he would: and had there beene any thing besides that had been truly bad and evill, they would have had a care of that also, that a man might have avoided it. But why should that be thought to hurt and pre­judice a mans life in this world, which cannot a­ny wayes make man himselfe the better, or the worse in his owne person? Neither must wee thinke that the Nature of the Universe did ei­ther through ignorance passe these things, or if not as ignorant of them, yet 4 as unable either [Page 20]to prevent, or better to order and dispose them. It cannot be that shee through want either of power or skill, should have committed such a thing, as to suffer all things both good and bad, equally and promiscuously to happen unto all both good and bad. As 5 for life therefore, and death, honour and dishonour, labour and plea­sure, riches and poverty, all these things happen unto men indeed, both good and bad, equally; but as things which of themselves are neither good nor bad; because of themselves, neither shamefull nor praise-worthy.

IX. Consider how quickly all things are dis­solved and resolved: the bodyes and substances themselves, into the matter and substance of the world: and their memories into the generall Age and Time of the world. Consider the na­ture of all worldly sensible things; of those espe­cially, which either insnare by pleasure, or son their irkesomenesse are dreadfull, or for their outward luster and shew are in great esteeme and request, how vile and contemptible, how base and corruptible, how destitute of all true life and being they are.

X. It is the part of a man endowed with a good understanding facultie, to consider what they themselves are in very deed, 6 from whose bare conceits and voices, honour and credit doe proceed: as also what it is to die, and how if a man shall consider this by it selfe alone, to die, and separate from it in his minde all those things which with it usually represent themselves unto [Page 21]us, he can conceive of it no otherwise, then as of a worke of nature, and he that feares any worke of nature, is a very child. Now death, it is not only a worke of Nature, but also conducing to Nature.

XI. Consider with thy selfe how man, and by what part of his, is joyned unto God, and how that part of man is affected, 7 when it is said to be diffused. There is nothing more wretched then that soule, which in a kinde of circuit com­passeth all things▪ searching (as he saith) even the very depths of the Earth; and by all signes and conjectures prying into the very thoughts of o­ther mens soules; and yet of this is not sensible, that it is sufficient for a man to apply himselfe wholly, and to confine all his thoughts and cares to 8 the tendance of that Spirit, which is within him, and truly and really to serve him. His ser­vice doth consist in this, that a man keepe him­selfe pure from all violent passion, and evill affe­ction, from all rashnesse and vanity, and from all manner of discontent, either in regard of the gods, or men. For indeed whatsoever proceeds from the gods, deserves respect for their worth and excellencie; and whatsoever proceeds from men, as they are our kinsmen, should by us be en­tertained, with love, alwayes; sometimes, as proceeding from their ignorance of that which is truly good and bad, (a blindnesse no lesse, then that by which wee are not able to discerne be­tweene white and black:) with a 9 kinde of pit­ty and compassion also.

[...]
[...]

XII. If thou shouldst live 3000, or as many 10000 of yeares, yet remember this, 10 that man can part with no life properly, save with that lit­tle part of life, which hee now lives: and that which he lives, is no other, then that which at e­very instant he parts with. That then which is longest of duration, and that which is shortest, come both to one effect. For although in regard of that which is already past there may be some inequalitie, yet that time which is now present and in being, is equall unto all men. And that being it which wee part with [whensoever we die,] it doth manifestly appeare, that it can bee but a moment of time, that wee then part with. For as for that which is either past or to come, a man cannot be said properly to part with it. For how should a man part with that which he hath not? These two things therefore thou must re­member. First, that all things in the world from all eternitie, by a perpetuall revolution of the same times and things ever continued and renu­ed, are of one kinde and nature; so that whe­ther for a 100 or 200 hundred yeares onely, or for an infinite space of time, a man see those things which are still the same, it can be no mat­ter of great moment. And secondly, that that life which any the longest liver, or the shortest liver parts with, is for length and duration the very same, for that only which is present, is that, which either of them can lose, as being that only which they have, for that which he hath not, no man can truly be said to lose.

XIII. Remember that all is but opinion and conceit, 11 for those things are plaine and appa­rant, which were spoken unto Monimus the Cy­nick, and as plaine and apparant is the use that may be made of those things, if that which is true and serious in them, be received as well as that which is sweet and pleasing.

XIV. A mans soule doth wrong and disrespect it selfe first and especially, when as much as in it selfe lyes it becomes an Aposteme, and as it were an excrescencie of the world, for to be grieved and displeased with any thing that happens in the world, is direct apostasie from the Nature of the Universe, part of which, all particular Na­tures of the world, are: Secondly, when shee ei­ther is averse from any man, or lead by contrary desires and affections, tending to his hurt and prejudice; such as are the soules of them that are angry. Thirdly, when shee is overcome by any pleasure or paine. Fourthly, when shee doth dissemble, and covertly and falsely, either doth or saith any thing. Fiftly, when shee doth either affect or endeavour any thing to no certain end, but rashly and without due ratiocination, and consideration, how consequent or inconsequent it is to the common end. For even the least things ought not to be done, without relation unto the end; and the end of the reasonable crea­tures is, to follow and obey him, who is the rea­son as it were, and the law of this great City, and ancient Common-wealth.

XV. The time of a mans life is as a point; the [Page 24]substance of it ever flowing, the sense obscure: and the whole composition of the body, tending to corruption. His soule is restlesse, fortune un­certaine, and same doubtfull, to be briefe, as a streame so are all things belonging to the body; as a dreame, or as a smoake, so are all that be­long unto the soule. Our life is a warfare, and a meere pilgrimage. Fame after life, is no better then oblivion. What is it then that will adhere and follow? One only thing, Philosophy. And philosophie doth consist in this, for a man to preserve that Spirit which is within him, from all manner of contumelies and injuries, and a­bove all paines or pleasures; never to doe any­thing either rashly, or fainedly, or hypocriti­cally: Wholly to depend from himselfe, and his owne proper actions: all things that happen unto him to embrace contentedly, as comming from Him from whom He Himselfe also came; and above all things, with all meeknesse and a calme chearefulnesse, to expect death, as being nothing else, but the resolution of those Ele­ments, of which every creature is composed. And if the Elements themselves suffer nothing by this their perpetuall conversion of one into another, that dissolution, and alteration, which is so common unto all, why should it be feared by any? Is not this according to Nature? But nothing that is according to nature, can be evill.

THE THIRD BOOKE.

A Man must not only consider how dai­ly his life wasteth and decreaseth, but this also, that if he live long, hee can­not be certaine, whether his under­standing shall continue so able and sufficient, for either discreet consideration, in matter of businesses; or for contemplation: it being the thing, whereon true knowledge of things both divine and humane, doth depend. For if once he shall beginne to dote, his respira­tion, nutrition, his imaginative, and appetitive [and other naturall faculties, may still continue the same:] he shall finde no want of them. But how to make that right use of himselfe that he should, how to observe exactly in all things that which is right and just; how to redresse and rectifie all [wrong, or suddaine:] apprehensions and imagi­nations, and even of this particular, whether he should live any longer or no, to consider duly: for all such things, wherein the best strength, and vigour of the minde is most requisite; [his power and abilitie] will be passed and gone. Thou must hasten therefore; not only because thou art eve­ry day neerer unto death then other, but also be­cause that intellective facultie in thee, whereby thou art inabled to know the true nature of [Page 26]things, and to order all thy actions by that know­ledge, doth daily wast and decay: [or, may faile thee before thou die.]

II. This also thou must observe, that whatso­ever it is that naturally doth happen to things naturall, hath somewhat in it selfe, that is plea­sing and delightfull, as a [great] loafe when it is baked, some parts of it cleave as it were, and part asunder [and make the crust of it rugged and une­quall,] and yet those parts of it, though in some sort it be against the art and intention of baking it selfe, that they are thus cleft and parted, [which should have beene, and were first made all even and uniforme,] they become it well neverthelesse, and have a certaine peculiar property, to stirre the appetite. So figs are accounted fairest and ripest then, when they beginne to shrinke, and wither as it were. So ripe olives, when they are next to putrefaction, then are they in their pro­per beautie. The hanging downe of grapes, the brow of a Lyon; the froath of a foaming wilde boare, and many other like things, though by themselves considered, they are farre from any beautie, yet because they happen naturally, they both are comely, and delightfull; so that if a man shall with a profound minde and apprehension, consider all things in the world, even among all those things which are but meere accessories, and naturall appendices as it were, there will scarce appeare any thing unto him, wherin he will not finde matter of pleasure and delight. So will he behold with as much pleasure the true rictus of [Page 27]wilde beasts, as those which by skilfull painters, and other artificers are imitated. So will he bee able to perceive the proper ripenesse and beauty of old age, whether in man, or woman: and whatsoever else it is that is beautifull and allu­ring in whatsoever is, with chast and continent eyes, he will soone finde out and discerne. Those and many other things will he discerne, not cre­dible unto every one, but unto them only who are truly and familiarly acquainted, both with nature it selfe, and all naturall things [or, and all the workes of nature]

III. Hippocrates having cured many sicknesses, fell sick himselfe and dyed. The Chaldeans [and Astrologiās] having foretold the deaths of divers, were afterwards themselves surprised by the fates. Alexander and Pompeius, and Caius Cae­sar, having destroyed so many townes, and cut off in the field so many thousands both of horse and foot, yet they themselves at last, were faine to part with their owne lives. Heraclitus having written so many naturall tracts concerning the [last & generall] conflagration of the world, dyed afterwards all filled with water within, and all bedawbed with durt and dung without. Lyce killed Democritus; and Socrates, another sort of vermine; [wicked ungodly men.] How then stands the case? Thou hast taken ship, thou hast sailed, thou art come to land, goe out, if to another life, there also shalt thou finde gods, who are every where. If all life and sense shall cease, then shalt thou cease also to be subject to either paines, or [Page 28]pleasures; and to serve and tend this vile cot­tage; so much the viler, by how much that which ministers unto it doth excell; the one being a ra­tionall substance, and a spirit, the other no­thing but earth and blood.

IV. Spend not the remnant of thy dayes in thoughts and phancies concerning other men, when it is not in relation to some cōmon good, when by it thou art hindred from some other [better] worke. That is, [spend not thy time] in thinking, what such a man doth, and to what end: what he saith, and what he thinkes, and what he is about, and such other things [or, curiosities] which make a man to roave and wander from the care and observation of that part of himselfe, which is rationall, and over-ruling. See there­fore in the whole series and connexion of thy thoughts, that thou be carefull to prevent what­soever is idle and impertinent: but especially, whatsoever is curious and malitious: and thou must use thy selfe to thinke only of such things, of which if a man upon a suddaine should aske thee, what it is that thou art now thinking, thou mayest answere This, and That; freely and bold­ly, that so by thy thoughts it may presently ap­peare that all in thee is sincere, and peaceable; as becommeth one that is made for society, and re­gards not pleasures, nor gives way to any volup­tuous imaginations at all [or, to any longing thoughts or desires at all▪] free from all contenti­ousnesse, envie, and suspition, and from whatso­ever else thou wouldest blush to confesse, thy [Page 29]thoughts were set upon. He that is such, is hee surely that doth not put off to lay hold on that which is best indeed, a very Priest and Minister of the gods, well acquainted and in good corre­spondence with Him especially that is seated and placed within himselfe, [as in a Temple and sacra­rie:] To whom also he keepes and preserves himselfe unspotted by pleasure, undaunted by paine; free from any manner of wrong, or con­tumelie, [ by See B. II. N. XIV. himselfe offered unto himselfe:] not capable of any evill [ See B. IV. N. VII. from others:] a wrastler of the best sort, and for the highest prize, that he may not be cast downe by any passion, or affe­ction of his owne; deeply dyed and drenched in righteousnesse, embracing and accepting with his whole heart, whatsoever either hapneth or is allotted unto him. One who not often, nor with­out some great necessity tending to some pub­lick good, mindeth what any other, either speaks, or doth, or purposeth: for those things onely that are in his owne power [or, that are truly his owne;] are the objects of his employments, and his thoughts are ever taken up with those things, which of the whole Universe are by the Fates [or, Providence] destinated and appropriated un­to Himselfe. Those things that are his owne, and in his owne power, he himselfe takes order for that they be good: and as for those that hap­pen unto him, he beleeves them to bee so. For that lot and portion which is assigned to every one, as it is unavoidable and necessary, so is it al­wayes profitable. He remembers besides that [Page 30]whatsoever partakes of reason, is a kinne unto him, and that to care for all men generally, is a­greeing to the nature of a man: But as for ho­nour and praise, that they, ought not generally to be admitted and accepted of from all, but from such only, who live according to nature. As for them that doe not, what manner of men they be at home, or abroad; day, or night, how condi­tioned themselves with what manner of condi­tions [or, with men of what conditions] they moile and passe away the time together, he knoweth, and remembers right well, he therefore regards not such praise and approbation, as proceeding from them, who cannot like and approve them­selves.

V. Doe nothing against thy will, nor contra­ry to the communitie, nor without due exami­nation, nor with reluctancie. Affect not to set out thy thoughts with curious neate language. Be neither a great talker, nor a great undertaker. Moreover, let thy god that is in thee to rule o­ver thee, finde by thee, that he hath to doe with a man; and aged man; a sociable man; a Romane; a Prince; one that hath ordered his life, as one that expecteth, as it were, nothing but the sound of the trumpet, sounding a retreat to depart out of this life with all expedition. One who [for his word or actions] neither needs an oath, nor any man to be a witnesse.

VI. To be chearefull, and to stand in no need, either of other mens helpe or attendance, or of that rest and tranquillitie, which thou must bee [Page 31]beholding to others for. Rather like one that is straight of himselfe [or, See B. I. N. XII. hath ever beene straight] then one that hath beene rectified.

VII. If thou shalt finde any thing in this mor­tall life better then righteousnesse, then truth, temperance, fortitude, and in generall better then a minde contented both with those things which according to right and reason shee doth, and in those, which without her will and know­ledge happen unto thee by the Providence; If I say, thou canst finde out any thing better then this; apply thy selfe unto it with thy whole heart, and that which is best wheresoever thou dost finde it, injoy [freely.] But if nothing thou shalt finde worthy to be preferred to that Spirit which is within thee; if nothing better then to subject unto thee thine owne lusts and desires, and not to give way to any fancies or imaginati­ons before thou hast duely considered of them, nothing better then to withdraw thy selfe (to use Socrates his words) from all sensualitie, and submit thy selfe unto the gods, and to have care of all men in generall: If thou shalt finde that all other things in comparison of this, are but vile, and of little moment; then give not way to any other thing, which being once, [though but] affe­cted and inclined unto, it will no more be in thy power, without all distraction [as thou oughtest] to preferre and to pursue after that good, which is thine owne and thy proper good. For it is not lawfull, that any thing that is of another [and in­feriour] kinde and nature, be it what it will, as ei­ther [Page 32]popular applause, or honour, or riches, or pleasures; should be suffered to confront and con­test as it were, with that which is rationall, and operatively good. For all these things, if once though but for a while, they beginne to please, they presently prevaile, and pervert a mans mind [or, turne a man from the right way.] Doe thou therefore I say absolutely and freely make choise of that which is best, and stick unto it. Now, that [they say] is best, which is most profitable. If they meane profitable to man as he is a ratio­nall man, stand thu to it, and maintaine it; but if they meane profitable, as he is a creature [only] reject it; and from this thy Tenet, and Conclusi­on keepe off carefully, all plausible shewes, and colours of externall appearance, G [...]eeke [...]. See B. VI. Num. XI. all plausible shewes, and colours of externall appearance, that thou maist be able to discerne things rightly.

VIII. Never esteeme of any thing as profita­ble, which shall ever constraine thee either to breake thy faith, or to lose thy modestie; to hate any man, to suspect, to curse, to dissemble, to lust after any thing, that requireth the secret of walls, or vailes. But he that preferreth before all things his Rationall part and Spirit, and the sa­cred mysteries of vertue which issueth from him, he shall never lament and exclame; never sigh, he shall never want either solitude or company: and which is chiefest of all, he shall live without either desire or feare. And as for life, whether for a long or short time he shall enjoy his soule thus compassed about with a body, he is altoge­ther indifferent. For if even now he were to de­part, [Page 33]he is as ready for it, as for any other action, which may be performed with modestie, and decencie. For all his life long, this is his onely care, that his minde may alwayes be occupied in such intentions and objects, as are proper to a ra­tionall sociable creature.

IX. In the minde that is [once truly] discipli­ned and purged, thou canst not finde any thing, either foule or impure, or (as it were) festered: nothing that is either servile, or affected: no [partiall] tie; no [malicious] aversenesse; nothing obnoxious; nothing concealed. The life of such one, Death can never surprise as imperfect; as of an Actour, that should dye before he had ended, or the play it selfe were at an end, as a man might speake.

X. Use thine opinative facultie with all ho­nour and respect, for in her [indeed] is all: that thy opinion doe not beget in thy understanding any thing contrary to either Nature, or the pro­per constitution of a Rationall creature. The end and object of a Rationall constitution, is, to doe nothing rashly, to bee kindly affected to­wards men, and in all things willingly to submit unto the gods. Casting therefore all other things aside, keepe thy selfe to these few, and remem­ber withall that no man properly, can be said to live more then that which is now present, which is but a moment of time. Whatsoever is besides either is already past, or incertaine. The time therefore that any man doth live, is but a little, and the place where he liveth, is but a very little [Page 34]corner of the earth, and the greatest fame that can remaine of a man after his Death, even that is but little, and that too, such as it is whilest it is, is by the succession of silly mortall men pre­served, who likewise shall shortly die, [and even whiles they live] know not what in very deed they themselves are: and much lesse can know one, who long before is dead and gone.

XI. To these ever present helpes and memen­t [...]s, let one more be added, Ever to make a par­ticular description and delineation as it were of every object that presents it selfe to thy minde, See B. VI. Num. XI. that thou maist wholly and throughly contem­plate it, in its owne proper nature, bare and na­ked; wholly, and severally; divided into its seve­rall parts and quarters: and then by thy selfe in thy minde, to call both it, and those things of which it doth consist, and in which it shall be re­solved, by their owne proper true Names, and appellations. For there is nothing so effectuall to beget true Magnanimitie, as to be able truly and methodically to examine and consider all things that happen in this life, and so to pene­trate into their natures, that at the same time, this also may concurre in our apprehensions: What is the true use of it? and what is the true nature of this Universe, to which it is usefull? How much in regard of the Universe may it bee esteemed? how much in regard of man, a Citi­ren of the supreame Citie, of which all other Cities in the World, are as it were but houses and families?

XII. What is this, that now my fancy is set upon? of what things doth it consist? how long can it last? which of all the vertues, is the proper vertue for this present use? as whether meek­nesse, fortitude, truth, faith, sinceritie, conten­tation, or any of the rest? See B. I. N. XVII. Of every thing there­fore thou must use thy selfe to say, This [imme­diately] comes from God, This by that fatall con­nexion and concatenation of things, or (which almost comes to one:) by some coincidentall casualtie. And as for this, it proceeds from my neighbour, my kinsman, my fellow: through his ignorance indeed, because he knowes not what is truly naturall unto him: But I know it, and therefore carry my selfe towards him according to the naturall law of fellowship; that is kindly, and justly. As for those things that of themselves are altogether indifferent, as in my best judge­ment I conceive every thing to deserve more or lesse, so I carry my selfe towards it.

XIII. If thou shalt intend that which is pre­sent, following the rule of right and reason care­fully, solidly, meekly, and shalt not intermixe any other businesses, but shalt studie this [onely] to preserve thy Spirit impolluted, and pure, and shalt cleave unto Him without either hope or feare of any thing, in all things that thou shalt either doe or speake, contenting thy selfe with Heroicall truth, thou shalt live happily; and from this, there is no man that can hinder thee.

XIV. As Physitians [and Chirurgions] have al­wayes their instruments ready at hand for all [Page 36]suddaine cures; so have thou alwayes thy Dogma­ta in a readinesse for the knowledge of things, both divine and humane: and whatsoever thou dost, even in the smallest things that thou dost, thou must ever remember that mutuall relation, an connexion that is between these two [things divine, and things humane.] For without relati­on unto God, thou shalt never speed in any worldly actions; nor on the other side in any di­vine, [without some respect had to things humane.]

XV. Bee not deceived; For thou shalt never live to read thy morall Commentaries, nor the Acts of the [famous] Romanes and Grecians; nor those Excerpta from severall Bookes; all which thou hadst provided and laid up for thy selfe, against thine old age. Hasten therefore to an end, and giving over all vaine hopes, helpe they selfe [in time] if thou carest for thy selfe, as thou oughtest to doe.

XVI. To See B. X. N. XV. B. XI. N. XVI. steale, to See B. IV. N. XXIX. sow, to buy, to be See B. IV. N. III. at rest, to See B. IV. N. XXIV. B. VIII N. XXXVI. see what is to be done (which is not seeneby the eyes, but by another kinde of sight:) what these words meane, and how many wayes to bee un­derstood, they doe not understand. The Body, the Soule, the Vnderstanding. [As] the senses [natu­rally,] belong to the body, and the desires and af­fections to the soule, so doe the dogmata to the understanding.

XVII. To be capable of fancies and imagina­tions, is common to man and beast. To be vio­lently drawne and moved by the lusts and de­sires [of the soule,] is proper to wilde beasts and [Page 37]monsters; such as Phalaris, and Nero were. To follow reason for ordinary duties and actions, See Pref. fol. 12. and Notes upon Booke VIII. 1. is common to them also, who beleeve not that there be any gods, and for [their advantage would make no conscience] to betray their owne Coun­trey; and who when once the doores be shut upon them, dare doe any thing. If therefore all things else be common to these likewise, it fol­lowes, that for a man to like and embrace all things that happen and are destinated unto him, and not to trouble and molest that Spirit which is seated in the temple of his owne breast, with a multitude of [vaine] fancies, and imaginations, but to keepe him propitious and to obey him as a god, never either speaking any thing contrary to truth, or doing any thing contrary to Justice; is the only true property of a good man. And such a one, though no man should beleeve that he liveth as he doth, either sincerely and consci­onably; or cheerefull and contentedly; yet is he neither with any man at all angry for it, nor di­verted by it from the way that leadeth to the end of his life, through whih a man must passe pure, ever ready to depart, and willing of him­selfe without any compulsion to fit and accom­modate himselfe to his proper lot and calling.

THE FOURTH BOOKE.

THat inward mistris part [of man] if it be in its owne true naturall temper, is towards all worldly chances and e­vents ever so disposed and affected, that it will easily turne and apply it selfe to that which may bee, and is within its owne power to compasse, [when that cannot bee which at first it intended.] For it never doth abso­lutely addict and apply it selfe to any one ob­ject, but whatsoever it is that it doth now intend and prosecute, it doth prosecute it with excepti­on and reservation; so that whatsoever it is that falls out contrary [to its first intentions] even that afterwards it makes its proper object. Even as the fire when it prevailes upon those things that are in his way; by which things indeed a little fire would have beene quenched, but a great fire doth soone turne to its owne nature, and so con­sume whatsoever comes in his way: yea by those very things it is made greater and greater.

II. Let nothing be done rashly, and at ran­dome, but all things according to the most exact and perfect rules of art.

III. They seeke for themselves private reti­ring places, See B. X. 24. as countrey villages, the sea shoare, mountaines; yea thou thy selfe art wont to long [Page 39]much after such places. But all this [thou must know] proceeds from simplicitie in the highest degree. At what time soever thou wilt, it is in thy power, to retire into thy selfe, and to bee at rest, and free from all businesses. A man cannot any whither retire better, then to his owne soule. He especially who is before hand provided of such things within, which whensoever hee doth withdraw himselfe to looke in, may presently af­ford unto him perfect ease and tranquillitie. By tranquillitie I understand a decent orderly dis­position and carriage, free from all confusion and tumultuousnesse. Afford then thy selfe this retiring continually, and thereby refresh and re­new thy selfe. Let these [precepts] be briefe and fundamentall, which as soone as thou doest call them to minde, may suffice thee to purge thy soule throughly, and to send thee away well pleased with those things whatsoever they bee, which now againe [after this short withdrawing of thy soule into her selfe:] thou doest returne unto. For what is it that thou art offended at? Can it be at the wickednesse of men, when thou doest call to minde this conclusion, that all reasonable creatures are made one for another? and that it is part of justice to beare with them? and that it is against their wills that they offend? and how many already, who [once likewise] prosecuted their enmities, suspected, hated, and fiercely con­tended, are now [long agoe] strecht out, and re­duced unto Ashes? It is time for thee to make an end. As for those things which among the com­mon [Page 40]chances of the world happen unto thee as thy particular lot and portion, canst thou be dis­pleased with any of them, when thou doest call that [our ordinary] Dilemma to minde, Either a Providence, or [Democritus his] Atomes; and with it, whatsoever we brought to prove, that the whole world is as it were one Citie? And as for thy body, what canst thou feare, if thou doest consider that thy Minde and Understanding, when once it hath recollected it selfe, and knowes its owne power, hath in this life and Breath, (whether See B. V. N. XX. B. VII. XX XVII. B. IX.XLI. it runne smoothly and gent­ly, or whether harshly and rudely,) no interest at all, but is altogether indifferent: and whatsoe­ver else thou hast heard and assented unto con­cerning either paine or pleasure? But the care of thine honour and reputation will perchance di­stract thee? How can that be, if thou doest look back, and consider both how quickly all things that are, are forgotten, and what an immense chaos of eternitie was before, and will follow af­ter all things: and the vanity of praise, and the inconstancie and variablenesse of humane Judge­ments and opinions, and the narrownesse of the place, wherein it is limited and circumscribed? For the whole earth is but as one point; and of it, this inhabited part of it, is but a very little part; and of this part, how many in number, and what manner of men are they, that will commend thee? What remaines then, but that thou often put in practise this kinde of retyring of thy selfe, to this little part of thy selfe; and above all [Page 41]things, keepe thy selfe from distraction, and intend not any thing vehemently; but be free and consider all things, [...]. as a man, [whose proper object is vertue:] as a [...]. See Note 14. and 18 upon B. I. And B. V. N VI. man [whose true nature is to be kinde and sociable] as a Citizen; as a mortall creature. Among other things, which to consider, and looke into thou must use to withdraw thy selfe, let those two be among the most obvious and at hand. One, that the things or objects themselves, reach not unto the soule, but stand without still, and quiet, and that it is from the opinion only which is within, that all the tu­mult and all the trouble doth proceed. The next, that all these things, which now thou seest, shall within a very little while be changed, and bee no more: and ever call to minde, how many changes and alterations in the world thou thy selfe hast al­ready been an eye witnesse of in thy time. This world is meere change, and this life, opinion.

IV. if to understand and to be reasonable be com­mon unto all men, then is that reason, for which we are termed reasonable, common unto all. If reason in generall, then is that reason also, which prescri­beth what is to be done and what not, common un­to all. If that, then Law. If Law, then are we fel­low Citizens. If so, then are wee partners in some one common weale. If so, then the world is as it were a Citie. For which other common weale is it, that all men can be said to be members of? From this common Citie it is, that Understanding, Rea­son, and Law is derived unto us, for from whence else? For as that which in me is earthly I have from some [common] earth; and that which is moist [Page 42]from some other Element is imparted: as my breath and life hath its proper fountaine; and that likewise which is dry and fiery in me: (for there is nothing which doth not proceed from something; as also there is nothing that can be reduced unto meere nothing:) so also is there some [common be­ginning] from whence my understanding hath pro­ceeded.

V. As generation is, so also death, a secret of Na­tures wisedome: a mixture of Elements, resolved into the same Elements againe, a thing surely which no man ought to be ashamed of: in the series of o­ther fatall events and consequences, to which a rati­onall creature is subject unto, not improper or in­congruous; nor contrary to the naturall and proper constitution of man himselfe.

VI. Such and such things, from such and such causes, must of necessity proceed. Hee that would not have such things to happen, is as he that would have the fig-tree [grow] without any sappe or moi­sture. See B. VI N. LI. B. VIII N XIII In summe, remember this, that within a ve­ry little while, both thou and he shall both be dead. and after a little while more, not so much as your names and memories shall be remaining.

VII. Let opinion be taken away, and no man will thinke himselfe wronged. If no man shall think himselfe wronged, then is there no more any such thing as wrong. That which makes not man him­selfe the worse, cannot make his life the worse, nei­ther can it hurt him either inwardly or outwardly. It was expedient in nature that it should be so, and therefore necessary.

VIII. Whatsoever doth happen in the world, doth happen justly, and so if thou dost well take heed, thou shalt finde it. I say not only in right or­der by a series of inevitable consequences, but accor­ding to Justice and as it were by way of equall di­stribution, according to the true worth of every thing. Continue then to take notice of it, as thou hast begunne, and whatsoever thou doest, doe it not without this proviso, that it be a thing of that nature that a good man, (as the word good is properly ta­ken) may doe it. This observe carefully in every a­ction.

IX. Conceit no such things, as he that wrongeth thee conceiveth, or would have thee to conceive, but looke into the matter it selfe, and see what it is in very truth.

X. These two rules, thou must have alwayes in a readinesse. First doe nothing at all, but what Rea­son proceeding from that Regall and supreme part, shall for the good and benefit of men, suggest un­to thee. And secondly, if any man that is present, shall be able to rectifie thee or to turne thee from some [erroneous] perswasion, that thou be alwayes ready to change thy minde, and this change to pro­ceed, not from any respect of any pleasure or credit thereon depending, but alwayes from some proba­ble appearant ground of Justice, or of some publick good thereby to be farthered; or from some other such inducement.

XI. Hast thou reason? I have. Why then ma­kest thou not use of it? For if thy reason doe her part, what more canst thou require?

XII. As a part hitherto thou hast had a particular subsistence: and now shalt thou vanish away into the common substance of Him, who first begot thee or rather thou shall be resumed againe into that o­riginal rational substance, out of which all others have issued, and are propagated. Many small peeces of frankincense are set upon the same alter, one drops first [and is consumed] another after; and it comes all to one.

XIII. Within tenne dayes [if so happen] thou shalt be esteemed a god of them, who now if thou shalt returne to the Dogmata and to the honoring of Reason, will esteeme of thee no better then of a meere brute, and of an ape.

XIV. Not as though thou hadst thousands of yeares to live. Death hangs over thee: whilest yet thou livest, whilest thou maiest, be good.

XV. How much time and leisure doth he gaine, who is not curious to know, what his neighbour hath said, or hath done, or hath attempted, but only what he doth himselfe, that it may be Just and holy? or to expresse it in Agathos words, Not to looke a­bout upon the evill conditions of others, but to runne on straight in the line, without any loose, and extravagant agitation.

XVI. Hee who is greedy of credit and reputati­on after his death, doth not consider, that they themselves by whom he is remembred, shall soone after every one of them be dead; And they like­wise that succeed those; untill at last all memorie, which hitherto by the succession of men admiring and soone after dying hath had its course, bee quite [Page 45]extinct. But suppose that both they that shall re­member thee, and thy memory with them should be immortall, what is that to thee? I will not say to thee after thou art dead; but even to thee living, what is thy praise? But only for a secret and poli­tick consideration, which wee call [...] or Dis­pensation. For as for that, that it is the gift of na­ture [what soever is commended in thee, what might bee objected from thence,] let that now that wee are up­on another consideration, be omitted as unseason­able. That which is faire and goodly, whatsoever it be, and in what respect soever it be, that it is faire and goodly, it is so of it selfe, and terminates in it selfe, not admitting praise as a part or member: that therefore which is praised, is not thereby made either better or worse. This I understand even of those things, that are commonly called faire and good, as those which are commended either for the matter it selfe, or for curious workmanship. As for that which is truly good, what can it stand in need of more, then either Law or Truth; or more then either kindnesse and modestie? Which of all those, either becomes good or faire, because commended; or dispraised suffers any dammage? Doth the Em­rald become worse in it selfe, or more vile if it bee not commended? Doth gold, or yvory, or purple? Is there any thing that doth though never so com­mon, as a knife, a flower, or a tree?

XVII. If so be that the soules remaine after death [say they that will not beleeve it:] how is the aire from all eternitie able to containe them? How is the earth [say I:] ever from that time able to containe the [Page 46]bodies of them that are buried? For as here the change and resolution of dead bodyes into another kinde of subsistence, (whatsoever it be;) makes place for other dead bodies: so the soules after death transferred into the aire, after they have con­versed there a while, are either by way of transmu­tation, or transfusion, or conflagration, received a­gaine into that originall rationall substance, from which all others doe proceed: and so give way to those soules, who before coupled and associated un­to bodyes, [now beginne to subsist single.] This, upon a supposition that the soules after death doe for a while subsist single, may be answered. And here, (besides the number of bodies, so buried and con­tained by the earth,) wee may further consider the number of severall beasts, eaten by us men, and by other creatures. For notwithstanding that such a multitude of them is daily consumed, and as it were buried in the bodyes of the eaters, yet is the same place and body able to containe them, by reason of their conversion, partly into blood, partly into aire and fire. What in these things is the speculation of truth? to divide things into that which is passive, and materiall; and that which is active and formall.

XVIII. Not to wander out of the way, but up­on every motion and desire, to perform that which is just: and ever to be carefull to attaine to the true naturall apprehension of every fancie, that presents it selfe.

XIX. Whatsoever is expedient unto the, O World, is expedient unto me, nothing can either he unseasonable unto me, or out of date, which unto [Page 47]thee is seasonable. Whatsoever thy seasons beare, shall ever by me bee esteemed as happy fruit, and increase. O Nature! from thee are all things, in thee all things subsist, and to thee all tend. Could he say of Athens, Thou lovely Citie of Cecrops; and shalt not thou say of the World, Thou lovely Citie of God?

XX. They will say commonly, Meddle not with many things, if thou wilt live chearefully. Certainely there is nothing better, then for a man to confine himselfe to necessary actions; to such and so many only, as reason in a creature that knowes it selfe borne for society, will command and enjoyne. This will not onely procure that chearfulnesse, which from the goodnesse, but that also, which from the paucitie of actions doth usually proceed. For since it is so, that most of those things, which wee either speake or doe, are unnecessary; if a man shall cut them off, it must needs follow that he shall thereby gaine much leisure, and save much trouble, and therefore at every action a man must privately by way of admonition suggest unto himselfe, What? may not this that now I goe about, be of the num­ber of unnecessary actions? Neither must he use himselfe to cut off actions only, but thoughts and i­maginations also, that are unnecessary; for so will unnecessary consequent actions the better be pre­vented and cut off.

XXI. Trie also how a good mans life; (of one, who is well pleased with those things whatsoever, which among the common changes and chances of this world fall to his owne lot and snare; and can live well contented and fully satisfied in the justice [Page 48]of his owne proper present action, and in the good­nesse of his disposition for the future:) will agree with thee. Thou hast had experience of that other kinde of life: make now tryall of this also. Trouble not thy selfe any more henceforth, reduce thy selfe unto perfect simplicitie. Doth any man offend? It is against himselfe that he doth offend: [why should it trouble thee?] Hath any thing happened unto thee? It is well, whatsoever it be, it is that which of all the common chances of the world from the very be­ginning in the series of all other things that have, or shall happen, was destinated and appointed unto thee. To comprehend all in few words; Our life is short; wee must endeavour to gaine the present time with best discretion and justice. Use recreati­on with sobriety.

XXII. Either this world is a [...], or a comely peece, because all disposed and governed by certaine order: or if it be a mixture, though confused, yet still it is a [...], a comely peece. For is it possible that in thee there should be any beauty at all, and that in the whole world there should be nothing but disorder, and confusion? and all things in it too, [by natural different properties] one from another dif­ferenced, and distinguished; See B. VI. N. 38. and yet all through dif­fused, and by naturall Sympathie, one to another united, as they are?

XXIII. See be­fore N. XV. Ablack, [or, maligne disposition, an effemi­nate disposition; an hard inexorable disposition, a wilde inbumane disposition, a sheepish disposition, a childish di­sposition; a blockish, a false, a scurril, a fraudulent, a ty­rannicall: [what then?] If he be a stranger in the [Page 49]world, that knowes not the things that are in it; why not he astranger as well, that wonders at the things that are done in it?

XXIV. He is a true fugitive, that flyes from rea­son, by which men are sociable. Hee blinde, who cannot see with the eyes of his understanding. He poore, that stands in need of another, and hath not in himselfe all things needfull for this life. Hee an Aposteme of the world, who by being discontented with those things that happen unto him in the world, doth as it were Apostatize, and separate him­selfe from Common Natures rationall Administra­tion. For the same nature it is that brings this unto thee, whatsoever it be, that first brought thee into the world. He raises sedition in the Citie, who [by irrationall actions] withdrawes his owne soule from that One and common soule of all rationall Crea­tures.

XXV. There is, who without so much as a Coat; and there is, who without so much as a booke, doth put philosophie in practise. I am halfe naked, nei­ther have I bread to eate, and yet I depart not from Reason, saith one. But I say; I want the food of good teaching, and instructions, and yet I depart not from Reason.

XXVI. What art, and profession soever thou hast learned, endeavour to affect it, and comfort thy selfe in it; and passe the remainder of thy life as one who from his whole heart commits himselfe and whatsoever belongs unto him, unto the gods, and as for men, carry not thy selfe either tyrannically, or servilely towards any.

XXVII. Consider in thy minde, for examples sake, the times of Vespasian: Thou shalt see but the same things: some marying, some bringing up children, some sick, some dying, some fighting, some feasting, some merchandizing, some tilling, some flattering, some boasting, some suspecting, some un­dermining, some wishing to die, some fretting and murmuring at their present estate, some wooing, some hoarding, some seeking after Magistracies, and some after Kingdomes. And is not that their age quite over, and ended? Againe, consider now the times of Trajan. There likewise thou seest the very selfe-same things, and that age also is now o­ver and ended. In the like manner consider other periods, both of times, and of whole nations, and see how many men, after they had with all their might and main intended, and prosecuted some one worldly thing or other, did soone after drop away, and were resolved into the Elements. But especial­ly thou must call to minde them, whom thou thy selfe [in thy life time] hast knowne much distracted [about vaine things,] and in the meane time negle­cting to doe that, and closely, and unseparably (as fully satisfied with it:) to adhere unto it, which their owne proper constitution did require. And here thou must remember, that thy carriage in every bu­sinesse must be according to the worth, and due pro­portion of it, for so shalt thou not easily be [tyred out] and vexed, if thou shalt not dwel upon small matters longer then is fitting.

XXVIII. Those words which once were com­mon and ordinarie, are now become obscure, and [Page 51]obsolet; and so the names of men once commonly knowne and famous, are now become in a manner obscure, and obsolet names. Camillus, Caeso, Volesi­us, Leonnatus; not long after, Scipio, Cato, then Au­gustus, then Adrianus, then Antoninus Pius: All these in a short time will be out of date, and [as things of another world as it were.] become fabulous. And this I say of them, who once shined as the won­ders of their ages, for as for the rest, no sooner are they expired, then with them all their fame and memorie. And what is it then that shall alwayes be remembred? all is vanity. What is it that wee must bestow our care and diligence upon? even up­on this only: That our minds & wils be just; that our actions be charitable, that our speech be never de­ceitfull: [or, that our understanding bee not subject to error:] that our inclination be alwayes set to em­brace whatsoever shall happen unto us, as necessary, as usuall, as ordinary, as flowing from such a begin­ning, and such a fountaine, [from which both thou thy selfe, and all things are.]. Willingly therefore, See the Pref. to­wards the end. and wholly surrender up thy selfe unto that fatall conca­tenation, yeelding up thy selfe unto the fates, to be disposed of at their pleasure.

XXIX. Whatsoever is now present, and from day to day hath its existence; all objects of memo­ries, and the mindes and memories themselves, in­cessantly consider, all things that are, have their be­ing by change, and alteration. Use thy selfe there­fore often to meditate upon this, that the Nature of the Universe delights in nothing more, then in altering those things that are, and in making others [Page 52]like unto them. So that wee may say, that whatso­ever is, is but as it were the seed of that which shall be. For if thou thinke that that only is seed, which either the Earth, or the wombe receiveth, thou art very simple.

XXX. Thou art now ready to dye, and yet hast thou not attained to that perfect simplicitie: thou art yet subject to many troubles, and perturbations; not yet free from all feare and suspition of externall accidents; nor yet either so meekly disposed to­wards all men, as thou shouldest; or so affected as one, whose only study, and only wisedome is, to be just in all his actions.

XXXI. Behold and observe, what is the state of their rationall part; and those that the world doth account wise, see what things they flie, and are a­fraid of; and what things they hunt after.

XXXII. In another mans minde and understan­ding thy evill cannot subsist, nor in any proper tem­per or distemper of the naturall constitution of thy body, which is but as it were the coate, or cottage of thy soule. Wherein then, but in that part of thee, wherein the conceit, and apprehension of any mi­sery can subsist? Let not that part therefore admit any such conceit, and then all is well. Though thy body which is so neere it, should either be cut or burnt, or suffer any corruption, or putrefaction, yet let that part to which it belongs to judge of these, be still at rest; that is, Let her judge this, that, what­soever it is, that equally may happen to a wicked man, and to a good man, is neither good, nor evill. For that which happens equally to him that lives ac­cording [Page 53]to Nature, [and to him that doth not:] is nei­ther according to nature, nor against it; [and by con­sequent, neither good, nor bad.]

XXXIII. Ever consider and thinke upon the world, as being but one living substance, See B. VI N. XXIII. and having but one soule, and how all things in the world, are terminated, into one sensitive power, [or, terminate into one generall sense;] and are done by one generall motion as it were, & deliberation [of that one soule;] and how all things that are, concurre in the cause of one anothers being, and by what manner of conne­xion and concatenation all things happen.

XXXIV. What art thou, [that better and divine part excepted] but as Epictetus said well, a wretched soule, appointed to carry a carcasse up and downe?

XXXV. To suffer change, can be no hurt; as no benefit it is, by change to attaine to being. The age and time of the world is as it were a flood, and swift current, consisting of the things that are brought to passe in the world. For as soone as any thing hath appeared, and is passed away, another succeeds, and that also will presently out of sight.

XXXVI. Whatsoever doth happen in the world, is [in the course of nature] as usuall and ordinarie as a rose in the spring, and fruit in summer. Of the same nature is sicknesse and death; slaunder, and ly­ing in waite, and whatsoever else ordinarily doth unto sooles use to be occasion either of joy or sor­row. That, whatsoever it is, that comes after, doth very naturally, and as it were familiarly, follow up­on that which was before. For thou must consider the things of the world, not as a loose independent [Page 54]number, consisting meerely of necessary events; but as a discreet connexion of things orderly and har­moniously disposed. There is then to be seen in the things of the world, not a bare succession, but an ad­mirable correspondence and affinitie.

XXXVII. Let that of Heraclitus never be out of thy minde, that the death of earth, is water; and the death of water, is aire; and the death of aire, is fire; and so on the contrary. Remember him also who was ignorant whither the way did lead, and how that Reason being the thing, by which all things in the world are administred, and which men are con­tinually and most inwardly conversant with: yet is the thing, which ordinarily they are most in oppo­sition with, and how those things which daily hap­pen among them, cease not daily to be strange unto them, and that we should not either speake, or doe any thing as men in their sleepe, [by opinion and bare imagination:] for then wee thinke wee speake and doe, and that [we must not be] as children, who fol­low their fathers [example:] for best reason allea­ging their bare [...]; or, As [by successive tradition from our forefathers] wee have received it.

XXXVIII. Even as if any of the gods should tell thee, thou shalt certainely die to morrow, or next day, thou wouldest not (except thou wert extream­ly base, and pusillanimous) take it for a great benefit, rather to dy the next day after, then to morrow: (for alas what is the difference! Sce N. XLII.) so [for the same reason] thinke it no great matter to die rather many yeares after, then the very next day.

XXXIX. Let it bee thy perpetuall meditation, [Page 55]how many physitians who once looked so grimme, and so tetrically shrunk their browes upon their pa­tients, are dead and gone themselves. How many Astrologers, after that in great ostentation they had foretold the death of some others; how many Philosophers after so many elaborate tracts and vo­lumes concerning either mortalitie, or immortali­tie; how many brave Captaines and Commanders, after the death and slaughter of so many: how ma­ny Kings and Tyrants, after they had with such hor­ror and insolencie abused their power upon mens lives, as though themselves had beene immortall; how many, that I may so speake, whole Cities [both men and Townes:] Helice, Pompeii, Herculanum, See Notes and others innumerable are dead and gone. Runne them over also, whom thou thy selfe, one after ano­ther, hast known in thy time to drop away. Such and such a one tooke care of such and such a ones burial, and soone after was buried himselfe. So one, so ano­ther: and all things in a short time. See B. V. N. XXVII B. VII N. III. For herein layeth all indeed, ever to looke upon all worldly things, as things for their continuance, [that last but] from day to day; [or, that are but for a day:] and for their worth, most vile, and contemptible, as [for example, What is man?] That which but the o­ther day [when hee was conceived] was vile Greeke [...]. See B. VI. N. XI. sniuell; See Notes and within few dayes shall be eyther an embalmed carkasse, or mere ashes. Thus must thou according to [truth and] nature, throughly consider, how [mans life] is but for a very moment of time, and so depart meeke, and contented: even as if a ripe Olive fal­ling, should praise the ground that bare her, and [Page 56]give thankes to the tree that begat her.

XL. Thou must be like a promontorie of the sea, against which though the waves beate continually, yet it both it selfe stands, and about it are those swelling waves stilled and quieted.

XLI. Oh, wretched I! to whom this mischance is happened! nay, happy I, to whom this thing be­ing happened, I can continue without griefe; nei­ther wounded by that which is present, nor in feare of that which is to come. For as for this, it might have happened unto any man, but any man having such a thing befallen him, could not have continu­ed without griefe. Why then should that rather be an unhappinesse, then this a happinesse? But how­ever, canst thou, O man! terme that unhappinesse, which is no mischance to the nature of man! canst thou thinke that a mischance to the nature of man, which is not contrary to the [end, and] will of his nature? What then hast thou learned is the will of mans nature? Doth that then which hath happen­ed unto thee, hinder thee from being just? or mag­nanimous? or temperate? or wise? or circumspect? or true? or modest? or free? or from any thing else of all those things in the present enjoying and pos­session whereof the nature of man, (as then enjoy­ing all that is proper unto her,) is fully satisfied? Now to conclude; upon all occasion of sorrow re­member henceforth to make use of this Dogma, that whatsoever it is that hath happened unto thee, is in very deed no such thing of it selfe, as a misfortune; but that to beare it generously, is certainely great happinesse

XLII. It is but an ordinary coorse one, yet it is a good effectuall remedy against the feare of death, for a man to consider in his minde the examples of such, who greedily and covetously (as it were:) did for a long time enjoy their lives. What have they got more, then they whose deaths have beene un­timely? Are not they themselves dead at the last? as Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, or any o­ther who in their life time having buried many; were at the last buried themselves. The whole space of any mans life, is but little; and as little as it is, with what troubles, with what manner of dispositi­ons, and in the society of how wretched a body must it be passed? Let it be therefore unto thee al­together as a matter of indifferencie. For if thou shalt looke backward; behold, what an infinite Cha­os of time doth present it selfe unto thee; and as in­finite a Chaos, if thou shalt looke forward, In that which is so infinite, what difference can there bee betweene that which liveth but three dayes, and that which liveth three ages?

XLIII. Let thy course ever be, the most compen­dious way. The most compendious, is that which is according to nature; [that is,] in all both words and deeds, ever to follow that which is most sound and perfect. For such a resolution will free a man from all trouble, strife, dissembling, and ostentation.

THE FIFTH BOOKE.

IN the morning when thou findest thy selfe unwilling to rise, consider with thy selfe presently, it is to goe about a mans worke that I am stirred up. Am I then yet unwilling to goe about that, for which I my selfe was borne and brought forth into this world? Or was I made for this, to lay me downe, and make much of my selfe in a warme bed? O but this is plea­sing. And was it then for this that thou wert borne, that thou mightest enjoy pleasure? Was it not in very truth for this, that thou mightest [alwayes] be busie and in action? Seest thou not [how all things in the world be sides,] how every tree and plant, how sparrowes and ants, spiders and bees: how all in their kinde are intent [as it were] orderly to performe whatsoever (towards the preservation of this order­ly Universe; or, of this Vniverse, which doth consist of Order) naturally doth become and belong unto them? And wilt not thou doe that, which belongs▪ unto a man to doe? Wilt not thou runne to doe that, which thy nature doth require? But thou must have some rest. Yes, thou must. Nature hath of that also, as well as of eating and drinking, allowed thee a certaine stint. But thou goest beyond thy [Page 59]stint, and beyond that which would suffice, & in mat­ter of action, there thou comest short of that which thou maist. It must needs be therefore, that thoudost not love thy selfe, for if thou didst, thou wouldst also love thy Nature, & that which thy nature doth pro­pose unto her self as her end. Others, as many as take pleasure in their trade and profession, can even pine themselves at their workes, and neglect their bodies and their food for it; and doest thou lesse honour thy nature, then an ordinary mechanick his trade, or a good dancer his art? then a covetous man his silver, and a vaine glorious man applause? These to whatsoever they take an affection, can be content to want their meat and sleepe, to further that every one which he affects: and shall actions tending to the common good of humane societie, seeme more vile unto thee, or worthy of lesse respect, and intention?

II. How easie a thing is it for a man to put off from him all turbulent adventitious imaginations, and presently to be in perfect rest and tranquillitie?

III. Thinke thy selfe fit and worthy to speake, or to doe any thing, that is according to Nature, and let not the reproach, or report of some that may en­sue upon it, [ever] deterre thee. If it be right and honest to be spoken or done, undervalue not thy selfe so much, as to be discouraged from it. As for them, they have their owne rationall over-ruling part, and their owne proper inclination: which thou must not stand and looke about to take no­tice of, but goe on straight, whither both thine owne particular, and the common nature doe lead [Page 60]thee; and the way of both these, is but one.

IV. I continue my course by actions according to nature, untill I fall and cease, breathing out my last breath into that aire, by which continually brea­thed in I did live; and falling upon that earth, out of whose gifts and fruits my father gathered his seed, my mother her blood, and my nurse her milk, out of which for so many yeares I have beene pro­vided, both of meate and drinke. And lastly, which beareth mee that tread upon it, and beareth with me that so many wayes doe abuse it, [or, and so free­ly make use of it, so many wayes to so many ends.]

V. No man can admire thee for thy sharpe acute language, [such is thy naturall disabilitie that way.] Be it so: yet there be many other [good] things, for the want of which thou canst not pleade the want of naturall abilitie. Let them be seene in thee, which depend wholly from thee; sinceritie, gravity, laboriousnesse, contempt of pleasures; be not que­rulous, be content with little, be kinde, be free; a­void all superfluitie, all vaine pratling; be magnani­mous. Doest not thou perceive, how many things there be, which notwithstanding any pretence of naturall indisposition and unfitnesse, thou mightest have performed and exhibited, and yet still thou doest voluntarily continue drooping downewards? Or wilt thou say, that it is through defect of thy na­turall constitution, that thou art constrained to murmur, to be base and wretched, to flatter; now to accuse, and now toplease, and pacifie thy body: to bee vaine-glorious, to bee so guidy headed, and unsetled in thy thoughts? nay (witnesses bee [Page 61]the Gods) of all these thou mightest have beene rid long agoe: Only, this thou must have beene conten­ted with, to have borne the blame of one that is somewhat slow and dull. Wherein thou must so exercise thy selfe, as one who neither doth much take to heart this his naturall defect, nor yet pleaseth himselfe in it.

VI. Such there, be, who when they have done a good turne to any, are ready to set them on the score for it, [and to require retaliatiō.] Others there be, who though they stand not upon retaliation, to require any, yet they thinke with themselves neverthelesse, that such a one is their debtor, and they know [as their word is] what they have done. Others againe there be, who when they have done any such thing, doe not so much as know what they have done; but are like unto the vine, which beareth her grapes, and when once shee hath borne her owne proper fruit, [is contented] and seekes for no further recompence. As a horse after a race, and a hunting dog when hee hath hunted, and a Bee when she hath made her ho­ny, looke not for applause and commendation; so neither doth that man [that rightly doth understand his owne nature] when he hath done a good turne: See B. IV III. but from one doth proceed to doe another, even as the vine after shee hath once borne fruit in her owne proper season, is ready for another time. Thou there­fore must be one of them, who what they do, barely do it without any further thought, & are in a maner unsensible of what they doe. Nay [but, will some reply perchance] this very thing a rationall man is bound unto, to understand what it is, that hee doeth. For [Page 62]it is the property, say they, of one that is naturally sociable, to be sensible, that hee doth operate socia­bly: nay, and to desire, that the partie himselfe that is sociably dealt with, should bee sensible of it too. [I answer;] That which thou sayest is true indeed, but the true meaning of that which is said, thou dost not understand. And therefore art thou one of those first, whom I mentioned. For they also are led by a probable appearance of reason. But if thou dost de­sire to understand truely what it is that is said, feare not that thou shalt therefore give over any socia­ble action.

VII. The forme of the Athenians prayer did runne thus; O raine, raine good Iupiter, upon all the grounds and fields that belong to the Athenians. Eyther wee should not pray at all, or thus absolutely, and freely; [and not every one for himselfe in particular alone.]

VIII. As wee say commonly, The physitian hath praescribed unto this man, riding; unto another, cold baths; unto a third, to goe bare foot: so it is alike to say, The Nature of the Vniverse hath praescribed un­to this man sicknesse, or blindnesse, or some losse, or dammage, or some such thing: For as there, when wee say of a physitian that hee hath praescribed any thing, our meaning is, that hee hath appointed this for that, as subordinate and conducing to health so here, whatsoever doth happen unto any, is ordained unto him as a thing subordinate unto the fates, and therefore doe wee say of such things, that they doe [...], that is, happen, or, fall together; as of square stones, when either in wals, or pyramides in a cer­taine [Page 63]position they fit one another, and agree as it were in an harmony, the Masons say, that they doe [...]; as if thou shouldest say, fall together: so that in the generall, [though the things be divers that make it] yet the consent or harmony it selfe is but one. And as the whole world is made up of all the parti­cular bodies of the world, one perfect and compleat body, of the same nature that particular bodies; so is the Destiny of particular causes [and events] one generall one, of the same nature that particular cau­ses are. What I now say, even they that are mere Idiots are not ignorant of: for they say commonly [...], that is, This his Destiny hath brought up­on him. This therefore is [by the Fates] properly and particularly brought upon this, as that unto this [in particular] is by the physitian praescribed. These therefore let us accept of in like manner, as wee doe those that are praescribed unto us by our Physitians, For them also in themselves shall wee finde to con­taine many harsh things, but wee neverthelesse, in hope of health, and recovery, accept of them. Let the fulfilling and accomplishment of those things which the common nature hath determined, be un­to thee as thy health. Accept then, and be pleased with whatsoever doth happen, though otherwise harsh and unpleasing, as tending to that end, to the health and welfare of the Vniverse, and to Joves happinesse and prosperity. For this whatsoever it be, should not have beene [...] produced, had it not [...] con­duced to the good of the Vniverse. For neither doth any ordinary particular nature bring any thing to passe, that is not to whatsoever is within the sphere [Page 64]of its owne proper administration and government agreeable and subordinate. For these two considera­tions then thou must be well pleased with any thing that doth happen unto thee. First, because that for thee properly it was brought to passe, and unto thee it was praescribed; and that from the very begin­ning by the series and connexion of the first causes, it hath ever had a reference unto thee. And second­ly, because the good successe and perfect welfare, & indeed the very continuance of Him, that is the Ad­ministrator of the whole, doth in a manner depend on it. For the whole (because whole, therefore entire and perfect:) is maimed, and mutilated, if thou shalt cut off any thing at all, whereby the coherence, and contiguity (as of parts, so) of causes, is maintained & preserved. Of which certaine it is, that thou doest (as much as lyeth in thee:) cut off, and in some sort violently take somewhat away, as often as thou art displeased [with any thing that happeneth.]

IX. Bee not discontented, bee not disheartned, bee not out of hope, if often it succeed not so well with thee punctually and precisely to doe all things according to the right dogmata, but being once cast off, returne unto them againe: and as for those many and more frequent occurrences [either of worldly distractions, or humane infirmi­ties] which as a man thou canst not but in some measure be subject unto, bee not thou discontented with them; but however, love and affect that [only] which thou dost returne unto: [a Philosophers life, and proper occupation after the most exact manner.] And when thou dost returne to thy philosophie, returne [Page 65]not unto it [as the manner of some is after play & liber­ty as it were] to their School Masters & Pedagogues; but as they that have sore eyes to their sponge and egg: or as another to his cataplasme; or as others to their fomentations: so shalt not thou make it a mat­ter of ostentation at all to obey reason; but of ease and comfort. And remember that philosophie requi­reth nothing of thee, but what thy nature requireth, and wouldest thou thy selfe desire any thing that is not according to nature? for w ch of these [saiest thou; that which is according to Nature or against it,] is of it selfe more kind & pleasing? Is it not for that respect especially, that pleasure it selfe is to so many mens hurt and overthrow, most prevalent, [because esteemed commonly most kind, and naturall?] But consider well whether magnanimitie rather, and true libertie, and true simplicitie, and equanimitie, and holines; whe­ther these be not most kinde and naturall? And pru­dencie it selfe, what more kind and amiable then it, when thou shalt truly consider with thy self, what it is through al the proper objects of thy rational intel­lectuall faculty currētly to go on without any fall or stumble? As for the things of the world, their true na­ture is in a manner so involved with obscuritie, that unto many philosophers, and those no meane ones, they seemed altogether incomprehensible: and the Stoicks themselves, though they judge them not al­together incomprehensible, yet scarce & not with­out much difficulty, comprehensible, so that all assent of ours is fallible, for who is he that is infallible [in his cōclusions?] From the nature of things, passe now unto their subjects and matter: how temporary, how [Page 66]vile are they? such as may be in the power and pos­session of some abominable loose liver, of some common strumpet, of some notorious oppressor, and extortioner. Passe from thence to the disposi­tions of them that thou doest ordinarily converse with, how hardly doe wee beare, even with the most loving and amiable? that I may not say, how hard it is for us to beare even with our owne selves. In such obscuritie, and impuritie [of things:] in such [and so continuall] a fluxe both of the substances and time; both of the motions themselves, and things moved; what it is that we can fasten upon; either to honour, and respect especially; or serious­ly, and studiously to seeke after; I cannot so much as conceive. For indeed they are things contrary.

X. Thou must comfort thy selfe in the expecta­tion of thy naturall dissolution, and [in the meane time] not grieve at the delay; but rest contented in those two things. First, that nothing shall happen unto thee, which is not according to the nature of the Universe. Secondly, that it is in thy power, to doe nothing against thine owne proper god, and [inward] Spirit. For it is not in any mans power to constraine thee to transgresse against him.

XI. What is the use that now at this present I make of my soule? Thus from time to time and up­on all occasions thou must put this question to thy selfe, what is now that part of mine which they call the rationall mistris part, imployed about? Whose soule doe I now properly possesse? a childes? or a youths? a womans? or a tyrants? some brute, or some wilde beasts soule?

XII. What those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are esteemed good, thou maist gather even from this. For if a man shall heare things mentioned as good, which are really good indeed, such as are prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude; after so much heard and conceived, hee cannot endure to heare of any more, for the word good is properly spoken of them. But as for those which by the vulgar are esteemed good, if he shall heare them mentioned as good, he doth hearken for more. He is well contented to heare, that what is spoken by the Comaedian, is but familiarly and popularly spoken, so that even the vulgar apprehend the difference. For why is it else, that this offends not and needs not to be excused, [when vertues are stiled good:] but that which is spoken in commen­dation of wealth, pleasure, or honour, wee enter­taine it only as merrily and pleasantly spoken? Pro­ceed therefore, and inquire further, whether it may not bee that those things also which being mentio­ned [upon the stage] were merrily, [and with great ap­plause of the multitude] scoffed at with this jest, that they that possessed them, had not in all the world of their owne, (such was their affluence and plenty:) so much as a place where to avoide their excrements. Whether, I say, these ought not also in very deed to be much respected, and esteemed of, as the only things that are truly good.

XIII. All that I consist of, is either forme or mar­ter. No corruption can reduce either of these unto nothing: for neither did I of nothing become a sub­sistent creature. Every part of mine then, will by [Page 68]mutation be disposed into a certaine part of the whole world, and that in time into another part; and so in insinitum; by which kinde of mutation, I also became what I am, and so did they that begot me, and they before them, & so upwards in infinitum For so we may be allowed to speake, though the age and government of the world, be to some cer­taine periods of time limited, and confined.

XIV. Reason, and rationall power, are faculties which content themselves with themselves, See B. IV N. I. B. V. N. X VII. B. VI. N. XLV. and their owne proper operations. And as for their first inclination and motion, that they take from them­selves. But their progresse is right to the end & ob­ject, which is in their way, as it were, and lyeth just before them: that is, which is feasible and possible, whether it be that which at the first they proposed to thē ­selves, or no.] For which reason also such actions are termed [...], to intimate the directnesse of they way, [by which they are atcheived.] Nothing must be thought to belong to a man, which doth not be­long unto him as he is a man. These [the event of purposes] are not things required in a man. The na­ture of man doth not professe any such things. The finall ends and consummations [of actions] are no­thing at all to a mans nature. The end therefore of a man, or that summum bonum whereby that end is fulfilled, cannot consist in the consummation of a­ctions [purposed and intended.] Againe, concerning these [outward worldly] things, were it so that any of them did properly belong unto man, then would it not belong unto man, to contemne them and to stand in opposition with them. Neither would hee [Page 69]be praise worthy that can live without them; or he good, (if these were good indeed:) who of his owne accord doth deprive himselfe of any of them. But we see contrary wise, that the more a man doth withdraw himselfe from these [wherein externall pompe and greatnesse doth consist,] or any other like these; or the better he doth beare with the losse of these, the better he is accounted.

XV. Such as thy thoughts and ordinary cogitati­ons are, such will thy minde be in time. For the soule doth as it were receive its tincture from the phancies, and imaginations. Dye it therefore and throughly soke it with the assiduitie of these cogi­tations. As for example. Wheresoever thou mayest live, there it is in thy power to live well and happy. But thou mayest live at the Court, there then also mayest thou live well and happy. Againe, that which every thing is made for, he is also made unto that, and cannot but naturally incline unto it. That which any thing doth naturally incline unto, there­in is his end. Wherein the end of every thing doth consist, therein also doth his good and benefit con­sist. Society therefore is the proper good of a rati­onall creature. For that we are made for society, it hath long since beene demonstrated. Or can any man make any question of this, that whatsoever is naturally worse and inferiour, is ordinarily subor­dinated to that which is better? and that those things that are best, are made one for another? And those things that have soules, are better then those that have none? and of those that have, those best that have rationall soules?

XVI. To desire things impossible, is the part of a mad man. But it is a thing impossible, that wic­ked men should not commit some such things. Nei­ther doth any thing happen to any man, which in the ordinary course of nature as naturall unto him doth not happen. See Note upon B XI. N. III. Againe, the same things happen unto others also. And truly, if either he that is igno­rant that such a thing hath happened unto him, or he that is ambitious to be commended for his mag­nanimitie, can be patient, and is not grieved: is it not a grievous thing, that either ignorance or a vain desire to please and to be commanded, should bee more powerfull and effectuall then true prudence? As for the things themselves, they touch not the soule, neither can they have any accesse unto it: nei­ther can they of thēselves any wayes either affect it, or move it. For she her self alone can affect & move her selfe, and according as the Dogmata and opini­ons are, which shee doth vouchsafe her selfe, so are those things which, as accessories, have any coexi­stence with her.

XVII. After one consideration, man is neerest un­to us; as we are bound to doe them good, and to beare with them, but as he may oppose any of our true proper actions, so man is unto me but as a thing indifferent: even as the sunne, or the winde, or some wilde beast. By some of these it may be, that some operation or other of mine, may be hindered; how­ever, of my minde and resolution it selfe, See B. IV. N. I. there can be no let or impediment, by reason of that ordinary constant both Exception [or, Reservation wherewith it inclineth:] and ready Conversion [of objects; from [Page 71]that which may not be, to that which may be, which in the prosecution of its inclinations, as occasion serves, it doth observe.] For by these the minde doth turne and convert any impediment whatsoever, to be her aime and purpose. So that what before was the impediment, is now the principall object of her working; and that which before was in her way, is now her readiest way.

XVIII. Honour that which is chiefest and most powerfull in the world, and that is it, which makes use of all things, and gouernes all things. So also in thy selfe, honour that which is chiefest, and most powerfull, and is of one kinde and nature with that [which wee now spake of.] For it is the very same, which being in thee, turneth all other things to its owne use, and by whom also thy life is governed.

XIX. That which doth not hurt the Citie it selfe, cannot hurt any Citizen. This rule thou must re­member to apply and make use of upon every con­ceit and apprehension of wrong. If the whole Ci­tie be not hurt by this, neither am I certainly. And if the whole be not, why should I make it my pri­vate grievance? [consider rather] what it is wherein he is overseen [that is thought to have done the wrong.] [Againe,] often meditate how swiftly all things that subsist, & all things that are done in the world, are carryed away, and as it were conveighed out of sight: For both the substances themselves, (wee see) as a flood, are in a continuall fluxe; and all acti­ons in a perpetuall change; & the causes themselves, subject to a thousand alterations, neither is there a­ny thing almost, that may ever be said to bee now [Page 72]setled, and constant. Next unto this, and which fol­lowes upon it, [consider] both the infinitenesse of the time already passed, and the immense vastnesse of that which is to come, wherein all things are to bee resolved, and annihilated. Art not thou then a very foole, who for these things, art either puffed up with pride, or distracted with cares, or as for a thing that would trouble thee for a very long time, canst find in thy heart to make such moanes? Consider the whole Vniverse, whereof thou art but a very little part, & the whole age of the world together, where­of but a short and very momentarie portion is al­lotted unto thee; and all the Fates and Destinies to­gether, of which how much is it that comes to thy part and share! [Againe:] Another doth trespasse against me. Let him looke to that. Hee is master of his owne disposition, and of his owne operation. I for my part am in the meane time in possession of as much, as the common Nature would have mee to possesse: and that which mine owne Nature would have me doe, I doe.

XX. Let not that chiefe commanding part of thy soule bee ever subject to any variation through any corporall either paine or pleasure, neither suffer it to be mixed with these, but let it both circumscribe its selfe, and confine those affections to their owne pro­per parts and members. But if at any time they doe reflect, and rebound upon the mind and understan­ding (as in an united and compacted body it must needs;) then must thou not goe about to resist sense and feeling, it being naturall. However let not thy understanding [to this naturall sense and feeling, which [Page 73]whether unto our flesh pleasant or painefull, is unto as no­thing properly:] adde an opinion of either good or bad, [and all is well.]

XXI. To live with the Gods. Hee liveth with the Gods, who at all times affords unto them the specta­cle of a soule, both contented and well pleased with whatsoever is afforded, or allotted unto her; and performing whatsoever is pleasing to that Spirit, whom (being part of himselfe) Jove hath appointed to every man as his overseer and governour.

XXII. Bee not angry neither with him whose breath, neither with him whose ala [or arme holes] are offensive. What can hee doe? such is his breath [naturally] and, such are his ala; and from such, such an effect, and such a smell must of necessity proceed. O, but the man (sayest thou:) hath understanding in him, and might of himselfe know, that hee by stand­ing neere, cannot choose but offend. And thou also (God blesse thee:) hast understanding. Let thy rea­sonable facultie, worke upon his reasonable facultie; shew him his fault, admonish him. If hee hearken unto thee, thou hast cured him, and there will be no more occasion of anger.

XXIII. Where there shall neither roarer be, nor where­monger. See B. IV. N. III [Why so?] As thou dost purpose to liue, when thou hast retyred thy selfe [to some such place, where neither roarer, nor wheremonger is:] so mayest thou here. And if they will not suffer thee, then maist thou leave thy life [rather then thy ca [...]ing,] but so as one that doth not thinke himselfe any waies wronged. Only as one would say, Here is a smoal [...]; I will out of it. And what a great matter is this? [Page 74]Now till some such thing force me out, I will conti­nue free; neither shall any man hinder mee to doe what I will, and my will shall ever be by the proper nature of a reasonable and sociable creature, regula­ted and directed.

XXIV. That rationall essence by which the Vni­verse is governed, is for communitie and socie­tie; and therefore hath it both made the things that are worse, for the best, and those which are best alli­ed and knit together, as it were in an harmonie. Seest thou not how it hath subordinated, and coor­dinated? and how it hath distributed unto every thing according to its worth? and those which have the praeeminencie and superioritie aboue all, hath it united together, into a mutuall consent and agree­ment.

XXV. How hast thou carried thy selfe hitherto towards the Gods? towards thy Parents? towards thy Brethren? towards thy Wife? towards thy Chil­dren? towards thy Masters? thy foster Fathers? thy Friends? thy Domesticks? thy Servants? Is it so with thee, that hitherto thou hast neither by worde or deed wronged any of them? Remember withall through how many things thou hast already passed, and how many thou hast beene able to endure; so that now the Legend of thy life is ful, and thy charge is accomplished. Againe, how many truly good things have certainely by thee beene discerned? how many pleasures, how many paines hast thou passed over with comtempt? how many things [ex­ternally] glorious hast thou despised? towards how many perverse unreasonable men, hast thou carried [Page 75]thy selfe kindly, and discreetly?

XXVI. Why should imprudent unlearned soules trouble that which is both learned, and prudent? And which is that that is so? she that understandeth the beginning and the end, and hath the true know­ledge of that Rationall essence, that passeth through all things subsisting, and through all ages [being ever the same] disposing and dispensing (as it were) this Vniverse by certaine periods of time.

XXVII. Within a very little while, thou wilt be either ashes, or a sceletum; and a Name perchance; and perchance, not so much as a Name. And what is that but an [empty] sound, and a rebounding Eccho? Those things which in this life are deerest unto us, and of most account, they are [in themselves] but vaine, putrid, contemptible. The most waighty and serious, if rightly esteemed, but as puppies, biting one another: or untoward children, now laughing and then crying. As for faith, and modestie, and ju­stice, and truth, they long since [as one of the Poets hath it] have abandoned this spacious Earth, & retired them­selves unto Heaven. What is it then that doth keepe thee here, if things sensible bee so mutable and un­setled? and the senses so obscure, and so fallible? and our soules nothing but an exhalation of blood? and to be in credit among such, be but vanity? What is it that thou dost stay for? an Extinction, or a Tran­slation; either of them with a propitious and con­tented mind. But till that time come, what will con­tent thee? what else, but to worship and praise the Gods; and to doe good unto men. To beare with them, and to forbeare to doe them any wrong. And [Page 76]for all externall things belonging either to this thy wretched body, or life, to remember that they are neither thine, nor in thy power.

XXVIII. Thou maiest alwayes speed, if thou wilt but make choise of the right way; if in the course both of thine opinions and actions, thou wilt observe a true method. These two things be common to the soules, as of God, so of men, and of every reasonable creature, first that [in their owne proper worke] they cannot be hindered by any thing: and secondly, that their happinesse doth consist in a disposition to, and in the practise of righteous­nesse; and that in these their desire is terminated.

XXIX. If this neither be my wicked act, nor an act any wayes depending from any wickednesse of mine, and that by it the publike is not hurt; what doth it concerne me? And wherein can the publike be hurt? For thou must not altogether be carryed by conceit [and common opinion:] but though thou must after thy best abilitie as occasion shall require, though but in middle [or, worldly] things they su­staine any dammage, ever be ready to helpe them; yet doe not thou conceive that they are truly hurt thereby: for that is not right. But as that old fo­ster Father [in the Comaedie] being now to take his leave doth [with a great deale of Ceremonie:] require his Foster Childs rhombus, remēbring neverthelesse that it is but a rhombus; so here also [do thou likewise]

XXX. What is all this pleading and publick baw­ling for at the Courts? O man, hast thou forgotten what those things are! yea but they are things that others much care for, and highly esteeme of. Wilt [Page 77]thou therefore be a foole too? Once I was; [let that suffice.]

XXXI. Let death surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may bee [...][or, a happy man] neverthelesse. For he is a happy man, who [in his life time] dealeth unto himselfe a happy lot and por­tion. A happy lot and portion is, good inclinati­ons of the soule, good desires, good actions.

THE SIXTH BOOKE.

THe matter it selfe, of which the Universe doth consist, is of it selfe very tractable and pliable. That rationall essence that doth governe it, hath in it selfe no cause to doe evill. It hath no evill [in it selfe] neither can it doe any thing that is evill; neither can any thing be hurt by it. And all things are done and deter­mined according to its will and prescript.

II. Bee it all one unto thee, whether halfe fro­zen or well warme; whether only slumbering or af­ter a full sleepe; whether discommended or com­mended thou doe 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. Looke in, let not either the proper qualitie, or the true worth of any thing passe thee, [before thou hast fully apprehended it.]

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

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

VI. Let this be thy only joy, and thy only com­fort, from one sociable [kinde] action [without in­termission] to passe unto another, God being ever in thy minde.

VII. The rationall commanding part, as it alone can stirre up and turne it selfe; so it maketh both it selfe to be, and every thing that happeneth, to ap­peare unto it selfe, as it will it selfe.

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 meere confused masse, and an intricate context of things, which shall in time be scattered and disper­sed againe: or it is an Union consisting of Order, and administred by providence. If the first, why should I desire to continue any longer in this fortuit confusion and commixtion? or why [Page 79]should I take care for any thing else, but that as soon as may be I may be Earth [againe?] And why should I trouble my selfe any more [whilest I seeke to please the gods?] Whatsoever I doe, Dispersion is my end, and will come upon me whether I will or noe. But if the latter be, then am not I religious in vaine; 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, returne unto thy selfe as soone as may be, and be not out of tune longer then thou must needs. For so shalt thou be the better able to keepe thy part another time, and to maintaine the harmonie, if thou doest use thy selfe to this conti­nually; once out, presently to have recourse unto it, and to beginne againe.

X. If it were that thou hadst at one time both a stepmother, and a naturall mother living, thou wouldest honour and respect her also; never­thelesse to thine owne naturall mother would thy refuge, and recourse bee continually. So let the Court and thy Philosophie be unto thee. Have re­course unto it often, and comfort thy selfe 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 usefull it is for a man to re­present unto himselfe meates, and all such things that are for the mouth, under a right apprehension and imagination? as for example: This is the car­kase of a fish; this of a bird; and this of a hogge. [Page 80]And againe more generally; This Phalernum, [this excellent highly commended wine,] is but the bare juyce of an ordinary grape. This purple robe, but sheepes haires, dyed with the blood of a shell-fish. So for coitus, it is but the attrition of an ordinarie base entrall; and the excretion of a little Greeke [...]. See B. IV 39. vile snivell; with a certaine kinde of convulsion: [according to Hippocrates his opinion.] How excellent usefull are these lively phancies and representation of things, thus penetrating and passing through the objects, to make their true nature knowne and apparant! 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 vilenesse, and to take away from them all those se­rious circumstances and expressions, under which they made so grave a shew. For outward pompe and appearance, is a great jugler; and then especially art thou most in danger to be beguiled by it, Gr: [...] See B III N. VII. when (to a mans thinking) thou most seemest to be imployed about matters of moment.

XII. See what Crates pronounceth concerning Xenocrates himselfe.

XIII. Those things which the common sort of people doe admire, are most of them such things as are very generall, and may be comprehended un­der things meerely naturall, 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 heards. Those that [Page 81]are yet more gentile and curious, their admiration is commonly confined to reasonable creatures on­ly; not in generall 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 soule ingenerall, as it is reasonable and naturally sociable, doth little regard any thing else: and above all things is care­full to preserve his owne, in the continuall habit and exercise both of reason and sociablenesse: and there­by doth cooperate with him, of whose nature hee 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. Perpetuall fluxes and alterations renew the world, as the perpetuall course of time doth make the age of the world (of it selfe infinite) to appeare alwaies fresh and new. In such a fluxe 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 fixe upon? as if a man would settle his affection up­on some ordinary sparrow flying by him, who is no sooner seene, then out of sight. For wee must not thinke otherwise of our lives, then as a meere exha­lation of blood, or of an ordinary respiration of aire. For what [in our common apprehension] is, to breath in the aire and to breath it out againe, which wee doe daily: so much is it and no more, at once to breath out all thy respirative facultie into that common aire from whence but lately (as being but from [Page 82]yesterday, and today,) thou didst first breath it in, and with it, life.

XV. Not vegetative spiration, it is not surely (which plants have) that [in this life] should bee so deare unto us; nor sensitive respiration, the proper life of beasts, both tame and wild; nor this our ima­ginative facultie; nor that wee are subject to be led and carried up and downe by the strength and vio­lence of our sensuall appetites; or that wee can ga­ther, and live together; or that wee can feed: for that in effect is no better, then that wee can void the excrements of our food. What is it then that should be deare unto us? to heare 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, then the clattering of so many tongues. If then neither applause, what is there remaining that should be deare unto thee? This I thinke: that [in all thy motions and actions] thou be moved, and restrai­ned according to thine owne true naturall constitu­tion and construction only. And to this even ordina­ry arts and professions doe lead us. For it is that which every art doth ayme at, that whatsoever it is, that is by art effected and prepared, may bee fit for that worke that it is prepared for. This is the end that he that dresseth the vine, and hee that takes up­on him either to tame colts, or to traine up dogs, doth ayme at. What else doth the education of Chil­dren, and all learned professions tend unto? Certain­ly then it is that, which should be deare unto us also. If in this particular it goe well with thee, care not for the obteining of other things. But is it so, that [Page 83]thou canst not but respect other things also? Then canst not thou truely be free; then canst thou not have selfe content: then wilt thou ever be subject to passions. For it is not possible, but that thou must be envious, and jealous, and suspitious of them who [thou knowest] can bereaue thee of such things; and againe, a secret underminer of them, whom thou seest in present possession of that which is deare un­to thee. To be short, See Note 5. upon the II. B. out of E­pictetus, and N. XXXVI. of this VI. B he must of necessity be full of confusion within himselfe, and often accuse the Gods, whosoever stands in neede of these things. But if thou shalt honour and respect thy mind only, that will make thee acceptable towards thy selfe, towards thy friends very tractable; and conforma­ble and concordant with the Gods; that is, accepting with praises whatsoever they shall thinke good to appoint and allot unto thee.

XVI. Ʋnder, above, and about, See Iob 28.1.2. to 12.13. &c. are the motions of the Elements: but the motion of vertue, 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 speake 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 seene, nor shall ever see, should speake well of them. As if a man should grieve that he hath not beene commended by them, that lived before him.

XVIII. Doe not ever conceive any thing im­possible to man, which by thee cannot, or not [Page 84]without much difficultie be effected; but whatsoever in generall thou canst conceive possible and proper unto any man, thinke that very possible unto thee also.

XIX. Suppose that at the Palaestra some body hath all to torne thee with his nailes, and hath bro­ken thy head. Well, thou art wounded. Yet thou dost not exclame; thou art not offended with him. Thou dost not suspect him for it afterwards, as one that watcheth to doe thee a mischiefe. Yea even then, though thou dost thy best to save thy selfe from him, yet not from him as an enemy. It is not by way of any suspitious indignation, but by way of gentle and friendly declination. Keepe the same mind and disposition in other parts of thy life also. For many things there be, which wee must conceit and appre­hend, as though wee had had to doe with an antago­nist at the Palaestra. For as I said, it is very possible for us to avoid and decline, though we neyther sus­pect, nor hate.

XX. If any body shall reprove me, and shall make it apparant unto me, that in any either opinion or action of mine I doe erre, I will most gladly retract. For it is the truth that I seeke 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 doe what belongs unto mee; as for other things, whether things unsensible or things irrationall; or if rationall, yet deceived and ignorant of the true way, they shall not trouble or distract mee. For as for those creatures which are [Page 85]not indued 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 my selfe 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 howers 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 ori­ginall rationall essences from whence all things in the world are propagated; or both after one fashion were scattered into Atomes.

XXIII. Consider how many different things, See B. IV Num. XXXIII whether they concerne our bodies, or our soules, in a moment of time come to passe 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 Generall, which wee call the World.

XXIV. If any should put this question unto thee, how this word Antoninus is written, wouldest thou not presently fixe thine intention upon it, and ut­ter out in order every letter of it? And if any shall beginne to gaine say thee, and quarrell with thee a­bout it; wilt thou quarrell with him againe, or ra­ther goe on meekly as thou hast begun, untill thou hast numbred out every letter? Here then likewise [Page 86]remember, that every duty that belongs unto a man doth consist of some certaine letters or numbers as it were, to which without any noise or tumult kee­ping thy selfe, thou must orderly proceed to thy proposed end, forbearing to quarrell with him that would quarrell and fall out with thee.

XXV. Is it not a cruell thing to forbid men to af­fect those things, which they conceive to agree best with their owne natures, and to tend most to their owne proper good and behoofe? But thou after a sort deniest them this libertie, as often as thou art angry with them for their sinnes. For surely it is with an opinion of their owne proper good and commoditie, that they are lead unto such things. But it is not so, thou therefore teach them better, and make it appeare unto them: but be not thou angry with them.

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

XXVII. If in this kinde of life thy body be able to hold out, it is a shame that thy soule should faint first, and give over. Take heed, lest [of a Philoso­pher] thou become a [meere] Caesar in time, and re­ceive a new tincture [from the Court.] For it may happen [if thou dost not take heed.] Keepe thy selfe therefore, truly simple, good, sincere, grave, free from all ostentation, a lover of that which is just, re­ligious, kinde, tender hearted, strong and vigorous to undergoe any thing that becomes thee. Endea­vour to continue such, as philosophie [hadst thou wholly and constantly applyed thy selfe unto it] would [Page 87]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 onely fruit of this earthly life.

XXVIII. Doe all things as becommeth the Dis­ciple of Antoninus [Pius.] Remember his resolute constancie in things that were done by him accor­ding to reason, his equabilitie in all things, his sancti­tie; the cheerefulnesse of his countenance, his sweet­nesse, and how free hee was from all vaine glory; how carefull to come to the true and exact know­ledge of matters in hand, and how hee would by no meanes give over till he did fully, and plainely understand the whole state of the businesse, & how patiently, and without any contestation he would beare with them, that did unjustly condemne him: how he would never be overhasty in any thing, nor give eare to slanders and false accusations, but exa­mine and observe with best diligence the severall a­ctions and dispositions of men. Againe, how hee was no backbiter, nor easily frighted, nor suspicious, and in his language free from all affectation and cu­riosity: and how easily hee would content himselfe with few things, as lodging, bedding, cloathing, and ordinarie nourishment, and attendance. How able to endure labour, how patient; able through his spare dyet to continue from morning to evening without any necessity of withdrawing before his ac­customed howers to the necessities of nature: his uniformity and constancie in matter of friendship. How he would beare with them that with all bold­nesse and libertie opposed his opinions; and even [Page 88]rejoyce if any man could better advise him: and lastly, how religious hee was without superstition. [All these things of him remember,] that whensoever thy last houre shal come upon thee, it may find thee, as it did him [ready for it] in the possession of a good conscience.

XXIX. Stirre up thy minde, and recall thy wits againe [from thy naturall dreames, and visions:] and when thou art perfectly awaken, and canst perceive that they were but dreames that troubled thee, as one newly awakened [out of another kinde of sleepe] looke upon these worldly things with the same minde as thou didst upon those, [that thou sawest in thy sleepe.]

XXX. I consist of body and soule, unto my body all things are indifferent, for of it selfe it cannot af­fect one thing more then another with apprehensi­on of any differēce; as for my mind, all things which are not within the verge of her owne operation, are indifferent unto her, and for her owne operati­ons, those altogether depend of her; neither doth shee busie her selfe about any, but those that are present; for as for future and passed operation, those also are now at this present indifferent unto her.

XXXI. As long as the foot doth that which be­longeth unto it to doe, and the hand that which be­longs unto it, their labour, whatsoever it bee, is not unnaturall. 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 hurtfull unto him. [But if it were so that happi­nesse did consist in pleasure:] how came notorious rob­bers, [Page 89]impure abominable livers, parricides, and ty­rants, in so large a measure to have their part of pleasures?

XXXII. Doest thou not see, how even those that professe mechanique arts, though in some respect they be no better then meere Idiots, yet they stick close to the course of their trade, neither can they finde in their heart to decline from it, and is it not a grievous thing that an architect, or a physitian shall respect the course and mysteries of their profession, more then a man the proper: course and condition of his owne nature, Reason, to which the gods them­selves are bound?

XXXIII. Asia, Europe; what are they, but as cor­ners of the whole world; of which the whole Sea, is but as one drop; & the great mount Athos, but as a clodde, as all present time is but as one point of eter­nitie. All, petty things, all things that are soone al­tered, soone perished. And all things come from one beginning; either all severally and particularly de­liberated and resolved upon, See B. VII. N. XLIV. by the generall ruler and governour of all; or all by necessary consequēce. So that the dreadfull hiatus of a gaping Lion, and all poyson, and all hurtfull things, are but (as the thorn and the myre) the necessary consequences of goodly faire things. Think not of these therefore, as things contrary to those which thou doest much honour, and respect; but consider in thy minde the true fountaine of all.

XXXIV. Hee that seeth the things that are now, hath seene all that either was ever, or ever shall be, for all things are of one kinde; and all like one unto [Page 90]another. Meditate often upon the connexion of all things in the world; and upon the mutuall relation that they have one unto another. For all things are after a sort folded and involved one within another, and by these meanes all agree well together. For one thing is consequent unto another, by locall mo­tion, by naturall conspiration and agreement, and by substantiall union, [or, reduction of all substances into One.]

XXXV. Fit and accommodate thy selfe to that e­state and to those occurrences, which by the desti­nies have beene annexed unto thee; and love those men whom thy fate it is to live with; but love them truly. An instrument, a toole, an utensile, 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 naturall, that power which hath framed and fitted them, is and abideth within them still: for which reason shee ought also the more to be respected, and wee are more obliged (if wee may live and passe our time according to her purpose and intention) to thinke that all is well with us, and according to our owne mindes. After this manner also, and in this respect it is, that He that is all in all doth enjoy his happinesse.

XXXVI. What things soever are not within the proper power and jurisdiction of thine owne will [either to compasse or avoid,] if thou shalt propose un­to thy selfe any of those things as either good, or e­vill; it must needs be that according as thou shalt ei­ther fall into that which thou doest thinke evill, or [Page 91]misse of that which thou doest thinke good, so wilt thou be ready both to complaine 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 evills, if wee incline to any of these things, more or lesse, with an opinion of any difference. But if we minde and phancie those things only, as good and bad, which wholly depend of our owne wills, there is no more occasion why we should either murmur against the gods, or be at enmitie with any man.

XXXVII. Wee all worke to one effect, some wil­lingly, and with a rationall apprehension of what we doe: others without any such knowledge. As I thinke Heraclytus in a place speaketh of them that sleepe, that even they doe worke in their kinde, and doe conferre to the generall operations of the World. One man therefore doth cooperate 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 cooperate.] For of such also did the World stand in need. Now doe thou consider among which of these thou wilt ranke thy selfe. For as for him who is the Admini­strator of all, See B. VIII N. XXXIII. 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 cooperate with him, that whatsoever thou doest, shall turne to the furthe­rance of his owne counsells, and resolutions. But be not thou [for shame] such a part of the whole, as that See the Notes. vile and ridiculous verse (which Chrysippus [Page 92]in a place doth mention) is a part of the Comaedy.

XXXVIII. Doth either the Sunne take upon him to doe that which belongs to the raine? or his son Aesculapius that, which unto the Earth doth pro­perly belong? See B. IV N. 22. B. VII. N. 26. last lines. How is it with every one of the starres in particular? Though they all differ one from another, [and have their severall charges and functions by themselves,] doe they not all neverthe­lesse concurre and cooperate 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 discreet & 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 frō it? But, if so be that they have not deliberated of me in particular, certainly they have of the whole in generall, and those things which in consequence and coherence of this generall delibe­ration happen unto me in particular, I am bound to embrace & accept of. But if so be that they have not deliberated at all (w ch indeed is very irreligious for any man to beleeve: forthen let us neither sacrifice, nor pray, nor respect our oaths, neither let us any more use any of those things, which we perswaded of the presence and [secret] conversation of the gods among us, daily use and practise:) but, I say, if so bee that they have not indeed [either in generall, or parti­cular] deliberated of any of those things, that happen unto us in this world, yet [God be thanked, that] of those things that concerne my selfe, it is lawfull for me to deliberate my selfe, & all my deliberatiō is but [Page 93]concerning that w ch may be to me most profitable. Now, that unto every one, is most profitable, which is according to his owne constitution and Nature. And my Nature is, to be rationall [in all my actions] and as a good, and naturall member of a citty and common wealth, 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 onely things that are good & 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 generall.] 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 wee otherwise call] middle things, [or, things indifferent; as health, wealth, and the like.]

XLI. As the ordinary shewes of the Theatre and of other such places, when thou art presented with them [ affect thee; as the same things still seene, and in the same fashion, make the sight ingratefull and tedious; so must all the things that wee 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 severall deaths of men of all sorts, and of all sorts of professions, and of all sort of na­tions, be a perpetuall object of thy thoughts, ❀❀❀❀ so that thou mayst even come downe to Philestio, [Page 94]Phoebus, and Origanius. Passe now to other genera­tions. Thither shall wee after many changes, where so many brave Oratours are; where so many grave Philosophers; Heraclytus, Pythagoras, Socrates. Where so many Heroes of the old times; and then so many brave captaines of the latter times; and so ma­ny Kings. After all these, where Eudoxus, Hippar­chus, Archimedes; where so many other sharpe, ge­nerous, industrious, subtile, peremptory dispositi­ons; and among others, even they, that have beene the greatest scoffers and deriders of the frailty and brevity of this our humane life; as Menippus, and others, as many as there have beene such as hee. Of all these consider, that they long since are all dead, and gone. And what doe 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 onely, which is worth our while in this World, and ought by us much to be esteemed; and that is, according to truth and righteousnesse, meekely and lovingly to converse with false, & unrighteous men.

XLIII. When thou wilt comfort and cheare thy selfe, call to mind the severall gifts and vertues of them, whom thou dost daily converse with; as for example, the industrie of the one; the modestie of another; the liberalitie of a third; of another some other thing. For nothing can so much rejoyce thee, as the resemblances and parallels of severall vertues, visible and eminent in the dispositions of those who live with thee; especially when unto thee many to­gether doe represent themselves: as many as thy mind is well capable of at once. And therefore thou [Page 95]must have them alwaies in a readinesse.

XLIV. Dost thou grieve that thou dost weigh but so many pounds, and not 300 rather? Iust as much reason hast thou to grieve that thou must live but so many yeares, and not longer. For as for bulcke and substance thou dost content thy selfe with that proportion of it that is allotted unto thee, so shouldst thou for time.

XLV. Let us doe our best endevours to per­swade them; but however, if Reason and Justice lead thee to it, doe it, though they be never so much against it. But if any shall by force withstand thee, & hinder thee in it, convert [thy vertuous inclination from one object unto another, from Iustice.] to contented aequanimitie, and chearfull patience: so that what [in the one] is thy hinderance, thou mayest make use of it for the exercise of another vertue: See B V. N. XIV. & remem­ber that it was with due exceptiō, & reservatiō, that thou didst at first incline and desire. For thou didst not set thy mind upon things impossible. Vpon what then? that all thy desires might ever be moderated with this due kinde of exception, and reservation. And this thou hast, and mayst alwaies obtaine, [whe­ther the thing desired be in thy power or no? And what doe I care for more, if] that for which I was borne, and brought forth into the world [to rule all my desires with reason and discretion] may be?

XLVI. The ambitious supposeth another mans act, [praise and applause] to be his owne happinesse; the voluptuous his owne sense and feeling; but hee that is wise, his owne action.

XLVII. It is in thy power absolutely to exclude [Page 96]all manner of conceit and opinion, as concerning this matter; and by the same meanes, to exclude all griefe and sorrow from thy soule. 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. Vse thy selfe when any man speakes unto thee, so to hearken unto him, as that in the in­terim, thou giue not way to any other thoughts; that so thou mayst (as farre as is possible) seeme fixed and fastned to his very soule, whosoever he be that speakes unto thee.

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

L. Will either passengers, or patients, finde fault and complaine, if either the one be well carried, or the others well cured? Doe they take care for any more then this; the one, that their Shipmaster may bring them safe to land, and the other, that their Physitian 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 jaundis, honie seemes bitter; and to them that are bitten by a mad dogge, the water terrible; and to children, a little ball seemes a fine thing. And why then should I be angry? or doe I thinke that error and false opinion is lesse powerfull [ to make men transgresse, See B VII N. 34. B. VIII. 13. &c.] then ei­ther choler, [being immoderate and excessive] to cause the jaundis; or poyson, to cause rage?

LIII. No man can hinder thee to live as thy na­ture [Page 97]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 seeke to please, and what to get, and by what acti­ons: how soone time will cover and burie all things and how many it hath already buryed.

THE SEVENTH BOOKE.

What is wickednesse? It is that which ma­ny times and often thou hast already seene and knowne [in the world.] And so, as any thing doth happen [that might otherwise trouble thee,] let this memen­to presently come to thy mind, that it is that which thou hast already often seene and knowne. Gene­rally, above and below, thou shalt find but the same things. The very same things whereof ancient sto­ries, middle age stories, and fresh stories are full: whereof townes are full, and houses full. There is nothing that is new. All things that are, are both usuall and of little continuance.

II. What feare is there that thy Dogmata [or, Philosophicall resolutions, and conclusions] should be­come dead in thee, [and lose their proper power and efficacie to make thee live happy,] as long as those [Page 98]proper and correlative phancies, and representati­ons of things on which they mutually depend (which continually to stirre up and revive is in thy power,) are still kept fresh and alive? It is in my power concerning this thing [that is happened, what­soever it be,] to conceit that which is right and true. If it be, why then am I troubled? Those things that are without my understanding, are nothing to it at all: [and that is it only, which doth properly con­cerne me.] Be alwayes in this minde, and thou wilt be right.

III. [That which most men would thinke themselves most happy for, and would preferre before all things, if the gods would grant it unto them after their deaths] thou mayest [whilest thou livest] grant unto thy selfe; to live againe. See the things of the world againe; as thou hast already seene them. See B IV. N. 39. B V.N. 27. For what is it else to live againe? Publick shewes and solemnities with much pompe and vanitie, stage playes, flocks and heards; conflicts and contentions: a bone throwne to a companie of hungry curres; a bait for greedy fishes: the painefulnesse, and continuall burden-bea­ring of wretched ants, the running to and fro of ter­rified myce; little puppets drawne up and downe with wyres and nerves: [these bee the objects of the World.] Among all these thou must stand stedfast, meekly affected, and free from all manner of indig­nation; with this right ratiocination and apprehen­sion, that as the worth is of those things which a man doth affect, so is [in very deed] every mans worth [more or lesse.]

IV. Word after word, every one by it selfe, must [Page 99]the things that are spoken be conceived and under­stood; and so the things that are done, purpose after purpose, every one by it selfe likewise. And as in matter of purposes and actions, wee must presently see what is the proper [use and] relation of every one; so of words must we be as ready, See B. III. N. XVI. B. IV. N. XXIV. to consider of every one what is the true meaning, and significa­tion of it [according to truth and Nature, however it be taken in common use.]

V. Is my reason, and understanding sufficient for this, or noe? If it be sufficient, [without any private applause, or publick ostentation] as of an Instrument, which by nature I am provided of, I will make use of it for the effecting of such a worke. If it be not, and that otherwise it belong not unto me particu­larly as a private duty, I will either give it over, and leave it to some other that can better effect it: or I will endeavour it; but with the helpe of some other, who with the joynt helpe of my reason, is able to bring somewhat to passe, that will now be seasona­ble and usefull for the common good. For whatso­ever I doe either by my selfe, or with some other, the only thing that I must intend, is, that it be good and expedient for the publick. [For as for praise, consider] how many who once were much com­mended, are now already quite forgotten, yea they that commended them, how even they themselves are long since dead and gone. Bee not therefore a­shamed, whensoever thou must use the helpe of o­thers. For whatsoever it be, that lyeth upon thee to effect, thou must propose it unto thy selfe, as the scaling of wals is unto a soldier. And what if thou [Page 100]through [either] lamenesse [or some other impediment] art not able to reach unto the top of the battlements alone, which with the helpe of another thou maiest; [wilt thou therefore give it over, or goe about it with lesse courage and alacritie, because thou canst not effect it all alone?]

VI. Let not things future trouble thee. For if necessity so require that they come to passe, thou shalt (whensoever that is:) be provided for them with the same reason, by which whatsoever is now present, is made both tolerable and acceptable unto thee. All things are linked and knitted together, and the knot is sacred, neither is there any thing in the world, that is not kinde and naturall in regard of any other thing, [or, that hath not some kinde of re­ference, and naturall correspondence with whatsoever is in the world besides.] For all things are ranked toge­ther, and by that decencie of its due place and or­der that each particular doth observe, they all con­curre together to the making of one and the same [...] [or, World: as if you said, a comely peece, or an orderly composition.] For all things through­out, there is but one and the same order; and through all things, one and the same god the same substance and the same Law. There is one common Reason, and one common Truth, that belongs unto all rea­sonable creatures, for neither is there save one per­fection of all creatures that [...] are of the same kinde, and partakers of the same reason.

VII. Whatsoever is materiall, doth soone vanish away into the common substance of the whole, and whatsoever is formall, [or, whatsoever doth animate [Page 101]that which is materiall] is soone resumed into the common Reason of the Whole, and the fame and memorie of any thing, is soone swallowed up by the generall Age and duration of the whole.

VIII. To a reasonable creature, the same action is both according to nature, and according to reason.

IX. Straight [of it selfe] not made straight.

X. As severall members in one body united, so are reasonable creatures in a body divided and dis­persed, all made and prepared for one common o­peration. And this thou shalt apprehend the bet­ter, if thou shalt use thy selfe often to say to thy selfe, I am [...] or, a member of the masse and body of reasonable substances. But if thou shalt say I am [...] or, a part, thou doest not yet love men from thy heart. The joy that thou takest in the exercise of bountie, is not yet grounded upon a due ratioci­nation, and right apprehension of the nature of things. Thou doest exercise it as yet upon this ground barely, as a thing convenient and sitting; not, as doing good to thy selfe, [when thou doest good unto others.]

XI. Of things that are externall happen what will to that which can suffer by externall accidents. Those things that suffer let them complaine them­selves, if they will; as for me, as long as I conceive no such thing, that that which is happened is evill; I have no hurt, and it is in my power not to con­ceive any such thing.

XII. Whatsoever any man either doth or saith, thou must be good; [not for any mans sake, but for thine owne natures sake;] as if either gold, or the Em­rald, [Page 102]or purple, should ever be saying to themselves, Whatsoever any man either doth, or saith, I must still be an Emrald, and I must keepe my colour.

XIII. [This may ever be my comfort and securitie:] my understanding, that ruleth over all, will not of it selfe bring trouble and vexation upon it selfe. This I say; it will not put it selfe in any feare, it will not lead it selfe into any concupiscence. If it bee in the power of any other to compell it to feare, or to grieve, it is free for him to use his power. But sure if it selfe doe not of it selfe, through some [false] o­pinion or supposition incline it selfe to any such dis­position; [there is no feare.] For as for the body, why should I make the griefe of my body, to be the grief of my minde? If that it selfe can either feare or complaine, let it. But as for the soule, which in­deed, can only be truly sensible of either feare or griefe; to which only it belongs according to its different imaginations and opinions, to admit of ei­ther of these, or of their contraries; [thou mayest look to that thy selfe, that] it suffer nothing. Induce her not to any such opinion or perswasion. The under­standing is of it selfe sufficient unto it selfe, and needs not (if it selfe doth not bring it selfe to need) any other thing besides it selfe, and by consequent as it needs nothing, so neither can it be troubled or hindered by any thing, if it selfe doth not trouble and hinder it selfe.

XIV. What is [...] [or, happinesse:] but [...], [or, a good Daemon, or, Spirit?] What then doest thou doe here, O opinion? By the gods I ad­jure thee, that thou get thee gone, as thou camest: [Page 103]for I need thee not. Thou camest indeed [unto me] according to thy ancient wonted manner. [It is that, that all men have ever beene subject unto. That thou camest therefore] I am not angry with thee; only be gone, [now that I have found thee what thou art.]

XV. Is any man so foolish as to feare change, to which all things [that once were not] owe their be­ing? And what is it, that is more pleasing and more familiar to the nature of the Universe? How couldst thou thy selfe use thy ordinary hot bathes, should not the wood [that heateth them] first bee changed? How couldest thou receive any nourishment from those things that thou hast eaten, if they should not be changed? Can any thing else almost (that is use­full and profitable) bee brought to passe without change? How then doest not thou perceive, that for thee also [by death] to come to change, is a thing of the very same nature, and as necessary for the na­ture of the Universe?

XVI. Through the Substance of the Universe, as through a torrent passe all particular bodies, being all of the same nature, and all joynt workers with the Universe it selfe, as in one of our bodies so ma­ny members among themselves. How many such as Chrysippus, how many such as Socrates, how many such as Epictetus, hath the Age of the world long since swallowed up and devoured? Let this, bee it either men or businesses, that thou hast occasion to thinke of, to the end that thy thoughts be not distracted and thy minde too earnestly set upon any thing,] upon every such occasion presently come to thy minde. Of all my thoughts & cares, one only thing shall be [Page 104]the object, that I my selfe doe nothing which to the proper constitution of man, (either in regard of the thing it selfe, or in regard of the manner, or of the time of doing,) is contrarie. The time whē thou shalt have forgottē all things, is at hand. And that time al­so is at hand, when thou thy selfe shalt be forgotten by all. Whilest thou art, apply thy selfe to that especially] which unto man as he is a man, is most proper and agreeable, and that is, for a man even to love them that transgresse [against him.] This shall be if at the same time [that any such thing doth happen:] thou call to minde, that they are thy Kinsmen; that it is through ignorance and against their wills that they sinne; and that within a very short while after, both thou and he shall be no more. But above all things, that he hath not done thee any hurt; for that by him thy minde and understanding is not made worse or more vile then it was before.

XVII. The nature of the Universe, of the com­mon substance of all things as it were of so much waxe hath now perchance formed a horse; and then destroying that figure, hath new tempered and fa­shioned the matter of it into the form and substance of a tree: then that againe into the forme and sub­stance of a man: and then that againe into some o­ther. Now every one of these doth subsist but for a very little while. As for dissolution, if it be no grievous thing to the chest or trunck, to be joyned together; why should it be more grievous to be put asunder?

XVIII. An angry countenance is much against nature, and it is oftentimes the proper countenance [Page 105]of them that are at the point of death. But were it so, that all anger and passion were so throughly quenched in thee, that it were altogether impossi­ble to kindle it any more [yet herein must not thou rest satisfied,] but further endeavour by good con­sequence of true ratiocination, perfectly to conceive and understand, that all anger and passion is against reason. For if thou shalt not be sensible of thine in­nocencie; if that also shall be gone from thee [the comfort of a good conscience, that thou doest all things ac­cording to reason:] what shouldest thou live any lon­ger for? All things that now thou seest, are but for a moment. That nature, by which all things in the world are administred, will soone bring change and alteration upon them, and then of their substances make other things [like unto them:] and then soone after others againe of the matter and substance of these: that so by these meanes, the world may still appeare fresh and new.

XIX. Whensoever any man doth trespasse against thee, presently consider with thy selfe what it was that he did suppose to be good, what to be evill, when he did trespasse. For this when thou know­est, thou wilt pitty him thou wilt have no occasion either to wonder, or to be angry. For either thou thy selfe doest yet [live in that error and ignorance, as that thou doest] suppose either that very thing that he doth, or some other like [wordly] thing, to bee good: and so thou art bound to pardon him [if hee have done that which thou in the like case wouldest have done thy selfe.] Or if so be that thou doest not any more suppose the same things to be good or evill, [Page 106]that he doth; how canst thou but be gentle unto him that is in an error?

XX. Phancie not to thy selfe things, future, as though they were present: but of those that are pre­sent, take some aside, that thou takest most benefit of, and consider of them particularly, how wonder­fully thou wouldest want them, if they were not present. But take heed withall, least that whilest thou doest settle thy contentment in things pre­sent, thou grow in time so to overprize them, as that the want of them (whensoever it shall so fall out) should be a trouble and a vexation unto thee. Winde up thy selfe into thy selfe. Such is the Na­ture of thy reasonable commanding part, as that if it exercise justice, and have by that meanes tran­quillitie within it selfe, it doth rest fully satisfied with it selfe [without any other thing.]

XXI. Wipe off all opinion: stay the force and vi­olence of unreasonable lusts and affections: Cir­cumscribe the present time: Examine whatsoever it be that is happened; either to thy selfe or to ano­ther: Divide all present objects, either in that which is formall or materiall: thinke of the last hower. That which thy neighbour hath committed, where the guilt of it lyeth, there let it rest. Extend thy minde to [or, Examine in order] whatsoever is spo­ken. Let thy minde penetrate, both into the effects, and into the causes. Rejoyce thy selfe with true simplicitie, and modestie, and that all middle things betweene vertue and vice are indifferent unto thee. [Finally,] Love mankinde; obey God.

XXII. All things (saith he) are by certaine order [Page 107]and appointment. And what if the Elements onely ❀❀❀. It will suffice to remember, that all things in generall are by certaine order and appointment: or if it be but few. ❀❀ And as concerning death, that either Dispersion, or the Atomes, or Annihilation, or Extinction, or Translation [will insue.] And as concerning paine, that that which is intolerable is soone ended by death; and that which holds long must needs be tolerable; and that the minde in the meane time [ which is all in all may [...] See B. V. N. 20. B. IX. N. 41 by way of inter­clusion, or interception [by stopping all manner of com­merce and sympathie with the bodie,] still retaine its owne tranquillitie. Thy understanding is not made worse by it. As for those parts that suffer, let them, See Note 6. upon B. II. and B. VII. 34. if they can, declare their griefe themselves. As for praise and commendation, view their minde and understanding, what estate they are in; what kinde of things they flie, and what things they seeke after and that as in the sea-side, whatsoever was before to be seene, is by the continuall succession of new heapes of sand cast up one upon another, soone hid and covered; so in this life, all former things by those which immediately succeed.

XXIII. Out of Plato. Hee then whose minde is en­dowed with true magnanimitie, who hath accustomed himselfe to the contemplation both of all times, and of all things in generall; can this mortall life (thinkest thou) seeme any great matter unto him? It is not possible; an­swered hee. Then neither will such a one account death a grievous thing? By no meanes.

XXIV. Out of Antisthenes. It is a princely thing to doe well, and to be ill spoken of. It is a shamefull thing [Page 108]that the face should be subject unto the minde, to bee put into what shape it will, and to be dressed by it as it will; and that the minde should not bestow so much care upon her selfe, as to fashion her selfe, and to dresse her selfe as best becommeth her.

XXV. [Out of severall poets and Comicks] It will but little availe thee, to turne thine anger and indignation upon the things themselves [that have fallen crosse unto thee.] For as for them, they are not sensible of it, &c. Thou shalt but make thy selfe a laughing slock; both unto the gods and men, &c. To reape ones life, as a ripe eare, &c. And that this is, and that this is not, &c. But if so be that I and my children be neglected by the gods, there is some reason even for that, &c. As long as right and equitie is of my side, &c. Not to lament with them, Not to tremble, &c.

XXVI. Out of Plato. My answer, full of justice and equitie, should be this: Thy speech is not right, O man! if thou supposest that he that is of any worth at all, should apprehend either life or death, as a matter of great hazard and danger; and should not make this rather his only care, to examine his owne actions, whether just or unjust: whether actions of a good, or of a wicked man, &c. For thus in very truth, stands the case, O yee men of Athens. What place or station soever a man either hath chosen to himselfe, judging it best for himselfe; or is by lawfull authoritie put & setled in, therein doe I thinke (all appearance of danger notwithstanding:) that hee should continue as one who feareth neither death, nor a­ny thing else so much as he feareth to commmit any thing that is vicious and shamefull, &c. But, O noble Sir, consider I pray, whether true generositie and true happi­nesse, [Page 109]doe not consist in somewhat else rather, then in the preservation either of ours, or other mens lives. For it is not the part of a man that is a man indeed, to desire to live long [or to make much of his life whilest he liveth:] But rather (he that is such) will in these things wholly referre himselfe unto the gods, and beleeving that which every woman can tell him, that, no man can escape death; the only thing that he takes thought and care for is this, that what time he liveth, he may live as well and as ver­tuously as he can possibly, &c. To looke about, and with the eyes to follow the course of the starres and planets, as though thou wouldest runne with them; and to minde perpetually the severall changes of the Elements one into another. For such phancies and imaginations, help much to purge away, the drosse and filth of this our earthly life, &c. That also is a fine passage of Plato's, where he speaketh of worldly things in these words: Thou must also as from some higher place looke downe, See B. X 29. B. X.I 18. as it were upon the things of this world, as flocks, armies, hus­band-mens labours, mariages, divorces, generations, deaths: the tumults of Courts and places of judicatures; desert places; the severall nations of Barbares, publick festivals, mournings, faires, markets. How all things [upon Earth] are pesse messe; See B. IV N. 22. and how [miracu­lously things contrary one to another, concurre to the beautie and perfection of this Universe.

XXVII. To looke backe upon things of former ages, as upon the manifold changes and conversi­ons of severall Monarchies and common-wealths. We may also foresee things future, for they shall all be of the same kinde; neither is it possible that they should leave the tune, or breake the consort that is [Page 110]now begunne as it were, by these things that are now done and brought to passe in the World. It comes all to one therefore, whether a man be a spe­ctatour of the things of this life but fortie yeares, or whether he see them ten thousand yeares together: for what shall he see more? And as for those parts that came from the Earth, they shall returne unto the Earth againe; and those that came from Heaven, they also shall returne unto those heavenly places. Whether it be a meere dissolution and unbinding of the ma­nifold intricacies and intanglements of the confused atomes; or some such dispersion of the simple and incorruptible Elements ❀❀❀. With meates and drinkes and divers charmes, they seeke to divert the cha­nell, that they might not die. Yet must we needs endure that blast of winde that commeth from above, though we bewaile our toile and misery.

XXVIII. He hath a stronger body, and is a bet­ter wrastler then I: [What then?] Is he more boun­tifull? is he more modest? Doth he beare all ad­verse chances with more equanimitie: Or with his neighbours offences with more meeknesse and gen­tlenesse then I?

XXIX. Where the matter may be effected agree­ably to that Reason, which both unto the gods, and men is common, there can be no just cause of griefe or sorrow. For where the fruit and benefit of an a­ction well begunne and prosecuted according to the proper constitution of man may be reaped and ob­tained, [or, is sure and certaine,] it is against reason that any dammage should there be suspected. In all places, and at all times, it is in thy power religiously [Page 111]to embrace whatsoever [by Gods appointment] is hap­pened unto thee, and justly to converse with those men, whom thou hast to doe with; and accurately to examine every phancie that presents it selfe, that nothing may slippe and steale in, before thou hast rightly apprehended the true Nature of it.

XXX. Looke not about upon other mens mindes and understandings; but looke right on forwards whither Nature, both that of the Vniverse, in those things that happen unto thee; and thine in parti­cular, in those things that are done by thee, doth leade, and direct thee. Now every one is bound to doe that, which is consequent and agreeable to that end which by his true naturall constitution hee was ordained unto. As for all other things, they are or­dained for the use of reasonable creatures: as in all things wee see that that which is worse and inferi­our, is made for that which is better. Reasonable creatures, they are ordained one for another. That therefore which is chiefe in every mans constituti­on, is, that he intend the common good. The second is, that he yeeld not to any lusts and motions of the flesh. For it is the part and priviledge of the reaso­nable and intellective facultie, that she can so bound her selfe, as that neither the sensitive, nor the appe­titive faculties, may not any wayes prevaile upon her. For both these are brutish. And [therefore] over both she challengeth masterie, and cannot any waies indure [if in her right temper,] to be subject unto ei­ther. And this indeed most justly. For by nature shee was ordained to command all in the body. The third thing proper to man by his constitution, is, to avoid [Page 112]all rashnesse, and precipitancie; and not to be subject to error. To these things then, let the mind apply her selfe and goe straight on [without any distraction about other things] and shee hath her end, [and by con­sequent her happinesse.]

XXXI. As one who had lived, and were now to die by right, whatsoever is yet remaining, bestow that wholly as [a gracious] overplus upon a vertuous life. G [...]: [...]. See pref. Love and affect that onely, whatsoever it be that happeneth, and is by the Fates appointed unto thee. For what can be more reasonable? And as any thing doth happen unto thee [by way of crosse, or calamity,] call to mind presently and set before thine eyes, the examples of some other men, to whom the selfe same thing did once happen likewise. Well, what did they? They grieved; they wondred, they com­plained. And where are they now? All dead and gone. Wilt thou also be like one of them? Or rather leaving to men of the world (whose life both in re­gard of themselves, and them that they converse with, is nothing but meere mutabilitie; or men of as fickle minds, as fickle bodyes; ever changing and soone changed themselves:) their owne fickle dispositions; let it be thine onely care and study, how to make a right use of all such accidents. For there is good use to be made of them, and they will prove fit matter for thee to worke upon, if it shall bee both thy care and thy desire, that whatsoever thou doest, thou thy selfe mayst like and approve thy selfe for it. And both these, see, that thou remember well, according as the diversity of the matter of the action that thou art about; shall require. Looke within; within is the [Page 113]fountaine of all good. Such a fountaine, where springing waters can never faile, so thou digge still deeper and deeper.

XXXII. Thou must use thy selfe also to keepe thy body fixed and steady; free from all loose fluctu­ant, either motion, or posture. And as upon thy face and lookes, thy minde hath easily power over them to keepe them to that which is grave and decent; so let it challenge the same power over the whole body also. But so observe all things in this kinde, as that it be without any manner of affectation.

XXXIII. The art of true living in this world, is more like a wrastlers, then a dancers practise. For in this they both agree [to teach] a man whatsoever falls upon him, that he may be ready for it, and that nothing may cast him downe.

XXXIV. Thou must continually ponder & consi­der with thy selfe, what manner of men they bee, and for their mindes and understandings what is their present estate, whose good word and testimo­nie thou doest desire. For then neither wilt thou see cause to complaine of them that offend against their wills; or finde any want of their applause, See B. VIII. N. 13. if once thou doest but penetrate into the true force, and ground both of their opinions; and of their de­sires. No soule (saith he:) is willingly bereaved of the Truth, and by consequent, neither of justice, or tem­perance, or kindnesse, and mildnesse; nor of any thing that is of the same kinde. It is most needfull that thou shouldest alwayes remember this. For so shalt thou be farre more gentle and moderate to­wards all men.

XXXV. What paine soever thou art in, let this presently come to thy minde, that it is not a thing whereof thou needest to be ashamed, neither is it a thing, whereby thy understanding, that hath the go­vernment of all, can be made worse. For neither in regard of the substance of it, nor in regard of the end of it (which is, to intend the common good;) can it alter and corrupt it. This also of Epicurus maist thou in most paines finde some helpe of, that it is: neither intolerable, nor eternall; so thou keepe thy selfe to the true bounds and limits [of reason] and give not way to opinion. This also thou must con­sider, that many things there be, which oftentimes unsensibly trouble & vexe thee [as not armed against them with patience, because they goe not ordinarily un­der the name of paines] which in very deed, are of the same nature as paine; as to slumber unquietly: to suffer heat, to want appetite, when therefore any of these things make thee discontented, check thy selfe with these words. Now hath paine given thee the foile. Thy courage hath failed thee.

XXXVI. Take heed least at any time thou stand so affected, though towards unnaturall evill men, as ordinary men are commonly one towards another.

XXXVII. How know we whether Socrates were so Eminent indeed, and of so extraordinary a dispo­sition? For that he dyed more gloriously, that hee disputed with the Sophists more subtilly; that hee watched in the Pagus more affiduously; that being commanded to fetch [innocent] Salaminius, hee re­fused to doe it more generously; all this will not serve. Nor that he walked in the streets, with much [Page 115]gravitie and majestie as was objected unto him by his adversaries, which neverthelesse a man may we doubt of whether it were so or no, [or, which aboue all the rest, if so be that it were true, a man would well consider of, whether commendable, or discommendable.] The thing therefore that we must inquire into, is this; what manner of soule Socrates had whether his disposition was such; as that all that he stood up­on; and sought after in this world, was barely this; That he night ever carry himselfe justly towards men, and holily towards the gods. Whether with­out indignation, when it would doe no good, hee could beare with other mens wickednesse, and yet never condescend to any mans evill fact, or evill in­tentions; [through either feare, or ingagement of friend­ship.] Whether of those things that happened unto him by Gods appointment, he neither did wonder at any when it did happen, or thought it intolerable in the triall of it. And lastly, whether he never did suffer his minde to sympathize with the senses, and affections of the body. For we must not think that Nature hath so mixed and rempered it with the bo­dy, as that she hath not power to circumscribe her selfe, and by her selfe to intend her owne ends and occasions.

XXXVIII. For it is a thing very possible, that a man should be a very divine man, and yet bee altogether un­knowne. This thou must ever be mindfull of, as of this also, that a mans true happinesse doth consist in very few things. And that although thou doest despaire, that thou shalt ever be a good either Logician, or Naturalist, yet thou art never the further off by it [Page 116]from being either liberall, or modest, or charitable, or obedient unto God.

XXXIX. Free from all compulsion in all cheere­fulnesse and alacritie thou maist runne out thy time, though men should exclame against thee ne­ver so much, and the wilde beasts should pull in sun­der the poore members of thy pampered masse of flesh. For what in either of these or the like cases, should hinder the minde to retaine her owne rest and tranquillitle, consisting both in the right judge­ment of chose things that happen unto her, and in the ready use of all present matters and occasions? So that her judgement may say, Gr: [...]. to that which is be­falne her by way of crosse: This thou art in very deed, and according to thy true nature; notwithstanding that in the judgement of opinion thou doest ap­peare otherwise: and her Discretion to the present ob­ject; Thou art that, which I sought for. For what­soever it be, that is now present, shall ever be em­braced by me as a fit and seasonable object, both for my reasonable facultie, and for my sociable, or charitable inclination to worke upon. And that which is principall in this matter, is, that it may bee referred either unto [the praise of] God, or to [the good of] men. For either unto God or man, what­soever it is that [...]oth happen in the world hath in the ordinary course of nature its proper reference; neither is there any thing, that [in regard of nature] is either new, or reluctant and intractable, but all things both usuall and easie.

XL. Then hath a man attained to the estate of perfection in his life and conversation, when hee so [Page 117]spends every day, as if it were his last day: never hot and vehement in his affections, nor yet so cold and stupid as one that had no sense; and free from all manner of dissimulation.

XLI. Can the gods, who are immortall, for the continuance of so many ages beare without indig­nation with such and so many sinners, as have ever beene, yea not only so, but also take such care for them, that they want nothing; and doest thou so grievously take on, as one that could beare with them no longer; thou that art but for a moment of time? yea thou that art one of those sinners thy selfe? A very ridiculous thing it is, that any man should dispense with vice and wickednes in himself, which is in his power to restraine, and should goe a­bout to suppresse it in others, which is altogether impossible.

XLII. What object soever, our reasonable and so­ciable facultie doth meet with, that affords nothing either for the satisfaction of reason, or for the pra­ctise of charitie, shee worthily doth thinke unwor­thy of her selfe.

XLIII. When thou hast done well, and another is benefited by thy action, must thou like a very foole looke for a third thing besides, as that it may appeare unto others also that thou hast done well, or that thou maiest in time, receive one good turne for another? No man useth to be wearie of that which is beneficiall unto him. But every action ac­cording to Nature, is beneficiall. Bee not wearie then of doing that which is beneficiall unto thee, whilest it is so unto others.

XLIV. The nature of the Universe did once cer­tainely [ before it was created, See B. VI Num. XXXIII XX XIX. B. IX.XXVI. whatsoever it hath done since] deliberate and so resolve upon the creation of the World. Now since that time, whatsoever it is, that is and happens in the world, is either but a consequent of that one and first deliberation: or if so be that this ruling rationall part of the world, takes any thought and care of things particular, they are surely his reasonable and principal creatures, that are the proper object of his particular care and pro­vidence. This often thought upon, will much con­duce to thy tranquillitie.

THE EIGHTH BOOKE.

THis also, among other things; may serve to keepe thee from vaine glory, if thou shalt consider, that thou art now alto­gether incapable of the commenda­tion of one, who all his life long, or from his youth at least, hath lived a Philosophers life. For both unto others, and to thy selfe especial­ly, it is well knowne, that thou hast done many things contrary to that perfection of life. Thou hast therefore beene confounded in thy course, and henceforth it will be hard for thee to recover the Title, and credit of a Philosopher. And to it also is [Page 119]thy calling and profession repugnant. If therefore thou doest truly understand, what it is that is of mo­ment indeed; as for thy same and credit, take no thought or care for that: let it suffice thee if all the rest of thy life, be it more or lesse, thou shalt live as thy nature requireth. [or, according to the true and naturall end of thy making.] Take paines therefore to know what it is that thy nature requireth, and let nothing else distract thee. Thou hast already had sufficient experience, that of those many things that hitherto thou hast erred and wandred about, thou couldest not finde happinesse in any of them. Not in Syllogismes, and Logical subtilities, not in wealth, not in honour and reputation, not in pleasure. In none of all these. Wherein then is it to be found? In the practise of those things, which the nature of man, as he is a man, doth require. How then shall he doe those things? If his Dogmata, or, morall Te­nets and opinions (from which all motions and a­ctions doe proceed:) be right and true. Which bee those Dogmata? Those that concerne that which is good or evill, as that there is nothing truly good and beneficiall unto man, but that which makes him iust, temperate, courageous, liberall; and that there is nothing truly evill and hurtfull unto man, but that which causeth the contrary effects.

II. Upon every action that thou art about, put this question to thy selfe; How will this when it is done agree with me? Shall I have no occasion to repent of it? Yet a very little while and I am dead and gone; and all things are at end. What then doe I care for more then this, that my present action [Page 120]whatsoever it be, may be the proper action of one that is reasonable; whose end is, the common good; who in all things is ruled and governed by the same law [of right and reason,] by which God himselfe is.

III. Alexander, Caius, Pompeius; what are these to Diogenes, Heraclitus, and Socrates? These pe­netrated into the true nature of things: into all causes, and all subjects: and upon these did they ex­ercise their power and authoritie; [or, these were the objects of their power and jurisdiction:] But as for those as the extent of their error was, so farre did their slavery extend.

IV. What they have done, they will still doe, although thou shouldest hang thy selfe. First; Let it not trouble thee. For all things [both good and evill:] come to passe according to the nature and generall conditi­on of the Universe, and within a very little while, all things will be at an end; no man will be remembred: as now of Africanus (for example) and Augustus it is already come to passe. Then secondly; Fixe thy minde upon the thing it selfe; looke into it, and re­membring thy selfe, that thou art bound neverthe­lesse to be a good man, and what it is that thy Na­ture requireth of thee as thou art a man, bee not di­verted from what thou art about, and speake that which seemeth unto thee most just: onely speake it kindly, modestly, and without hypocrisie.

V. That which the Nature of the Universe doth busie her selfe about, is; that which is here, to trans­ferre it thither, to change it, and thence againe to take it away, and to carry it to another place. So that thou needest not feare any new thing. For all [Page 121]things are usuall and ordinary; and all things are dis­posed by equalitie.

VI. Every particular nature hath content, when in its owne proper course it speeds. A reasonable nature doth then speed, when first in matter of phan­cies and imaginations, it gives no consent to that which is either false or incertaine. Secondly, when in all its motions and resolutions it takes its levell at the common good only, and that it desireth no­thing, and flyeth from nothing, but what is in its owne power to compasse or avoid. And lastly, when it willingly and gladly embraceth, whatsoever is dealt and appointed unto it by the common Nature. For it is part of it; even as the nature of any one leafe, is part of the common nature of all plants and trees. But that the nature of a leafe, is part of a na­ture both unreasonable and unsensible, and which [in its proper end] may be hindered; [or, which is ser­vile and slavish:] whereas the nature of man is part of a common nature which cannot be hindered, and which is both reasonable and just. From whence al­so it is, that according to the worth of every thing, she doth make such equall distribution of all things, as of duration, substance, forme, operation, and of events and accidents. But herein consider not whe­ther thou shalt finde this equalitie in every thing absolutely and by it selfe; but whether in all the particulars of some one thing taken together, and compared with all the particulars of some other thing; and them together likewise.

VII. Thou hast no time nor oportunitie to read. What then? Hast thou not time and oportunitie to [Page 122]exercise thy selfe, not to wrong [thy selfe;] tostrive against [all carnall] pleasures and paines, and to get the upper hand of them; to contemne honour and vaine glory; and not only, not to bee angry with them, whom towards thee thou doest finde unsensi­ble and unthankfull; but also to have a care of them still, and of their welfare?

VIII. Forbeare henceforth to complaine of the troubles of a Courtly life, either in publicke before others, or in private by thy selfe.

IX. Repentance, is an inward and selfe-repre­hension for the neglect or omission of somewhat that was profitable. Now whatsoever is good, is al­so profitable, and it is the part of an honest vertuous man to set by it, and to make reckoning of it accor­dingly. But never did any honest vertuous man re­pent of the neglect or omission of any [carnall] plea­sure: no [carnall] pleasure then is either good or prositable.

X. This, what is it in it selfe, and by it selfe, ac­cording to its proper constitution? What is the substance of it? What is the mattter, [or, proper use?] What is the forme [or, efficient cause?] What is it for in this world, and how long will it abide? [Thus must thou examine all things, that present them­selves unto thee.]

XI. When thou art hard to be stirred up and a­waked out of thy sleepe, admonish thy selfe and call to minde, that, to performe actions tending to the common good is that which thine owne proper constitution, and that which the nature of man doe require. But to sleepe, is common to unreasonable [Page 123]creatures also. And what more proper and natural, yea what more kinde and pleasing, then that which is according to Nature?

XII. As every phancie and imagination presents it selfe unto thee, consider (if it be possible) the true nature, and the proper qualities of it, and reason with thy selfe about it.

XIII. At thy first encounter with any one, say presently to thy selfe; This man, what are his opini­ons concerning that which is good or evill? as con­cerning paine, pleasure, and the causes of both; con­cerning honour, and dishonour, concerning life and death; thus and thus. Now if it be no wonder that a man should have such & such opinions how can it be a wonder, that he should do such and such things? I will remember then, that he cannot but do as hee doth [holding those opinions that he doth.] Remember, that as it is a shame for any man to wonder that a figge tree should beare figs, so also to wonder that the World should beare any thing, whatsoever it is which in the ordinary course of nature it may beare. To a physitian also & to a pilot it is a shame either for the one to wonder, that such and such a one should have an ague; or for the other, that the winds should prove contrarie.

XIV. Remember, that to change thy minde up­on occasion, and to follow him that is able to recti­f [...] thee, is equally ingenuous, [as to finde out at the first, what is right and just, without helpe.] For of thee nothing is required, that is beyond the extent of thine owne deliberation and judgement, and of thine owne understanding.

XV. If it were thine act and in thine owne power, why wouldest thou doe it? If it were not, whom doest thou accuse? the atomes, or the gods? For to doe either, is the part of a mad man. Thou must therefore blame no body, but if it be in thy power, redresse what is amisse; if it be not, to what end is it to complaine? For nothing should be done but to some certaine end.

XVI. Whatsoever dyeth [and falleth, however and wheresoever it die and fall,] it cannot fall out of the world. If here it have its abode and change, here also shall it have its dissolution into its proper ele­ments. The same are the worlds Elements, and the elements of which thou doest consist. And they when they are changed, they murmur not; [why shouldest thou?]

XVII. Whatsoever is, was made for something: as a horse, a vine. Why wondrest thou? The Sun it selfe will say of it selfe, I was made for something: and so [hath] every god [its proper function.] What then wert thou made for? to disport and delight thy selfe? See how even common sense and reason cannot brooke it.

XVIII. Nature hath its end as well in the end and finall consummation of any thing that is, as in the beginning and continuation of it.

XIX. As one that tosseth up a ball. And what is a hall the better, if the motion of it be upwards; or the worse if it be downewards; or if it chance to fall upon the ground? So for the bubble; if it continue, what is it the better? and if it dissolve, what is it the worse? And so is it of a candle too. [And so must [Page 125]thou reason with thy selfe, both in matter of fame, and in matter of death. For as for the body it selfe, (the sub­ject of death) wouldest thou know the vilenesse of it?] Turne it about, [that thou maiest behold it the worst sides upwards as well, as in its more ordinarie pleasant shape:] how doth it looke, when it is old and wi­thered? when sick and pained? when in the act of lust, and fornication? [And as for fame] This life is short. Both he that praiseth, and he that is prai­sed; he that remembers, and he that is remembred, [will soone be dust and ashes.] Besides, it is but in one corner of this part of the world [that thou art prai­sed;] and yet in this corner, thou hast not the joynt praises of all men; no nor scarce of any one constant­ly. And yet the whole earth it selfe, what is it but as one point, [in regard of the whole world?]

XX. That which must be the subject of thy consi­deratiō, is either the matter it selfe, or the Dogma, or the operation, or the true sense and signification.

XXI. Most justly have these things happened un­to thee: [why dost not thou amend?] O but thou hadst rather become good to morrow, then to be so to day.

XXII. Shall I doe it? I will; so the end of my ac­tion be to doe good unto men. Doth any thing by way of crosse, or adversity happen unto me? I accept it, with reference unto the Gods, and [their provi­dence;] the fountaine of all things, from which what­soever comes to passe, doth hang and depend.

XXIII. [By one action judge of the rest:] This ba­thing [which usually takes up so much of our time] what is it? Oyle, sweat, filth; [or the sordes of the body:] and excrementitious viscositie, [the excrements of oyle, & [Page 126]other oyntments used about the body, and mixed with the sordes of the body: all base and loathsome. And such [almost] is euery part of our life, and every [worldly] object.

XXIV. Lucilla [buried] Verus; then was Lucilla herselfe [buried by others.] So Secunda, Maximus then Secunda her selfe. So Epitunchanus, Diotimus; then Epitunchanus himselfe. So Antoninus Pius, Faustina [his wife;] then Antoninus himselfe. This is the course of the world. First, Celer, Adrianus; then Adrianus himselfe. And those austere ones; those that foretold other mens deathes; those that were so proud and stately, where are they now? Those austere ones I meane, such as were Charux, and De­metrius, the Platonick; and Eudaemon, and others like unto those. They were all but for one day; all dead and gone long since. Some of them no sooner dead, then forgotten. Others soone turned into fa­bles. Of others, even that which was fabulous, is now long since forgotten. This therefore thou must remember, that whatsoever thou art compounded of, shall soone be dispersed, and that thy life and breath [or, thy soule:] shall either bee no more, or shall be translated, and appointed to some certaine place and station.

XXV. The true joy of a man, is to doe that, which properly belongs unto a man. That which is most proper unto a man, is, First, to bee kindly affected towards them, that are of the same kinde and na­ture as he is himselfe; to contemne all sensuall mo­tions and appetites to discerne rightly all plausible phancies and imaginations, to contemplate the na­ture [Page 127]of the Universe; both it, and all things that are done in it. [In which kinde of contemplation] three se­verall relations [are to be observed.] The first, to the appearant secundarie cause. The second, to the first originall cause, God, from whom originally pro­ceeds whatsoever doth happen in the world. The third and last, to them that we live and converse with: [what use may bee made of it, to their use and be­nefit.]

XXVI. If paine be an evill, either it is in regard of the body; (and that cannot be, Gr: [...] See. B. VII. N. 13. because the body of it selfe is altogether insensible:) or in regard of the soule. But it is in the power of the soule, to preserve her owne peace and tranquillitie, and not to sup­pose that paine is evill. For all judgement and de­liberation; all prosecutiō, or aversation is from with­in, whither the sense of evill [except it bee let in by opinion] cannot penetrate.

XXVII. Wipe off all [idle] phancies, and say unto thy selfe incessantly; Now if I will it is in my power to keep out of this my soule all wickednesse, all lust, and concupiscences, all trouble and confusion. But on the contrarie, to behold and consider all things according to their true nature, and to carry my selfe towards every thing according to its true worth. Remember then this thy power, that Nature hath given thee.

XXVIII. Whether thou speake in the Senate, or whether thou speake to any particular, let thy speech be alwayes grave and modest. But thou must not openly and vulgarly observe that sound and ex­act forme of speaking [concerning that which is truly [Page 128]good and truly evill; the vanity of the world, & of world­ly men:] which otherwise Truth, and Reason doth prescribe.

XXIX. Augustus his Court; His wife, his daugh­ter, his nephewes, his sonnes in Law; his sister, A­grippa, his Kinsmen, his domesticks, his friends; A­reus, Mecaenas, his aruspices [or slayers of beasts for sa­crifice and divination:] There thou hast the death of a whole Court together. Proceed now on to the rest [that have beene since that of Augustus.] Hath death dealt with them otherwise, [though so many and so stately whilest they lived] then it doth use to deale with any one particular man? Consider now the death of a whole kindred and familie, as of that of the Pompeyes, as that also that useth to bee written upon some monuments, HEE WAS THE LAST OF HIS OWNE KIN­DRED. O what care did his predecessors take, that they might leave a successor, yet behold! at last one or other must of necessitie be THE LAST. Here again therefore consider the death of a whole kindred.

XXX. Contract thy whole life to the measure and proportion of one single action. And if in every particular action thou doest performe what is fitting to the utmost of thy power, let it suffice thee. [or, thinke that thou hast lived long enough.] And who can hinder thee, but that thou mayest performe what is fitting? But there may bee some outward lett and impediment. Not any, that can hinder thee, but that whatsoever thou doest, thou may doe it, justly, temperatly, and with the praise of God. Yea but [Page 129]there may be somewhat, whereby some operation or other of thine may be hindred. And then, with that very thing that doth hinder, thou mayest be well pleased, and so by this gentle and aequanimous conversion of thy minde unto that which may bee [in stead of that which at first thou didst intend] in the roome of that former action there succeedeth an­other, which agrees [as well] with this contraction of thy life, that we now speake of.

XXXI. Receive [temper all blessings] without osten­tation, when they are sent; and [thou shalt be able] to part with them with all readinesse and facility when they are taken from thee againe.

XXXII. If euer thou sawest either a hand, or a foot, or a head lying by it selfe, in some place or other, as cut off from the rest of the body, such must thou conceive him to make himselfe, as much as in him lyeth, that either is offended with any thing that is happened, (whatsoeuer it be) and as it were divides himselfe from it: or that commits any thing against the naturall Law of mutuall correspondence, and so­ciety among men: or, [hee that commits any act of uncharitablenesse.] Whosoever thou art, that art such, thou art cast forth I know not whither out of the generall unity, which is according to Nature. Thou wert borne indeede a part, but now thou hast cut thy selfe off. However, herein is matter of ioy and exultation, that thou mayst be united againe. God hath not granted it unto any other part, that once separated and cut off, it might be reunited, and come together againe. But, behold, that GOOD­NESSE [how great and immense it is!] which hath [Page 130]so much esteemed MAN. See N. 53. B. XI. N. 7. As at first hee was so made, that hee needed not, except hee would him­selfe, have divided himselfe from the whole; so once divided and cut off, IT hath so provided and ordered it, that if he would himselfe, hee might re­turne, and grow together againe, and be admitted into its former ranke and place of a part, as hee was before.

XXXIII. As almost all her other faculties and pro­perties the nature of the Universe hath imparted unto every reasonable Creature, so this in particular wee have received from her, that as whatsoever doth oppose it selfe unto her, and doth withstand her in her purposes and intentions, she doth though against its will and intention, bring it about to her selfe, Gr: [...]: &c. See B. VI N. xxxvij. to serue her selfe of it in the execution of her owne dostinated ends; and so [by this though not intended co­operation of it with her selfe] makes it part of her selfe [whether it will or no;] So may every reasonable Creature, what crosses or impediments soever it meets with [in the course of this mortall life,] it may use them as fit and proper obiects, to the furtherance of whatsoever it intended, and absolutely proposed unto it selfe [as its naturall end and happinesse.]

XXXIV. Let not the generall representation unto thy selfe of the wretchednesse of this our mortall life, Gr: [...]. trouble thee. Let not thy minde wander up and downe, and heape together in her thoughts, the many troubles and grieuous calamities which thou art as subiect unto as any other. But as euery thing in particular doth happen, put this question unto thy selfe, and say; What is it that in this present mat­ter, [Page 131]seemes unto thee so intolerable? For thou wilt be ashamed to confesse it. Then upon this present­ly call to minde, that neither that which is future, nor that which is past can hurt thee; but that one­ly which is present. (And that also is much lessened, if thou doest rightly circumscribe it:) and then check thy minde if for so little a while, (a meere in­stant) it cannot hold out with patience.

XXXV. What? are either Pantheas or Pergamus abiding to this day by their Masters tombes? or either Chabrias or Diotimus by that of Adrianus? O foolery! For what if they did, would their Ma­sters be sensible of it? or if sensible, would they be glad of it? or if glad, were these immortall? Was not it appointed unto them also (both men and wo­men,) to become old in time, and then to dye? And these once dead, what would become of these for­mer? [And when all is done, what is all this for,] but for a meere bagge of blood and corruption; [or, loath­some excrements?]

XXXVI. If thou beest quick-sighted, be so in matter of judgement, and best discretion, saith he.

XXXVII. In the whole constitution of man, I see not any vertue contrary to justice, whereby it may be resisted and opposed. But one whereby pleasure and voluptuousnesse may be resisted and opposed, I see, Continence.

XXXVIII. If thou canst but withdraw conceit and opinion concerning that which may seeme hurt­full and offensive, thou thy selfe art as safe, as safe may be. Thou thy selfe? and who is that? Thy Reason. Yea, but I am not Reason. Well, be it so. [Page 132]How ever, See be­fore N. XXVI. let not thy Reason [or vnderstanding] ad­mit of griefe, and if there be any thing in thee that is greeved, let that, (whatsoever it be,) conceive its owne griefe, [if it can.]

XXXIX. That which is a hinderance of the senses, is an evill to the sensitive nature. That which is an hinderance of the appetitive and prosecutive facul­ty, is an evill to the sensitive nature. As of the sensi­tive, so of the vegetative constitution whatsoever is an hinderance unto it, is also in that respect an evill unto the same. And so likewise, whatsoever is an hinderance unto the minde and understanding, must needs be the proper evill of the reasonable na­ture. Now apply all those things unto thy selfe. Doe either paine or pleasure seize on thee? Let the senses looke to that. See B. IV. N. 1. Hast thou met with some ob­stacle or other in thy purpose, and intention? If thou didst propose without due reservation and ex­ception, now hath thy reasonable part received a blow indeede. But if in generall thou didst propose unto thy selfe whatsoever might bee, thou art not thereby either hurt, nor [properly] hindered. For in those things that properly belong unto the mind, shee cannot be hindered by any man. It is not fire, nor iron; nor the power of a tyran, nor the power of a slandering tongue; nor any thing else that can penetrate into her.

XL. If once round and solid, there is no feare that ever it will change.

XLI. Why should I grieve my selfe; who never did willingly grieve any other? One thing rejoy­ceth one, and another thing another. As for me, this [Page 133]is my joy; if my understanding be right and found, as neither auerse from any man, nor refusing any of those things, which as a man I am subject unto; If I can looke upon all things in the world meekely and kindly; accept all things, and carry my selfe to­wards every thing according to the true worth of the thing it selfe.

XLII. This time that is now present, bestow thou upon thy selfe. They that rather hunt for fame af­ter death, doe not consider, that those men that shall be hereafter, will be even such, as these whom now they can so hardly beare with. And besides they also will be mortall men. But to consider the thing in it selfe, if so many with so many voices, shall make such, and such a sound, or shall have such, and such an opinion concerning thee, what is it to thee?

XLIII. Take me and throw me where thou wilt: [I am indifferent.] For there also I shall have that Spirit which is within me propitious; that is well pleased and fully contented both in that constant di­sposition, and with those particular actions, which to its owne proper constitution are sutable and a­greeable.

XLIV. Is this then a thing of that worth, that for it my soule should suffer, and become worse then it was? as either basely dejected, or disordinately af­fected, or confounded within it selfe, or terrified? What can there be, that thou shouldest so much e­steeme?

XLV. Nothing can happen unto thee, which is not incidentall unto thee, as thou art a man. As no­thing can happen either to an oxe, a vine, or to a [Page 134]stone, which is not incidentall unto them; unto e­very one in his owne kinde. If therefore nothing can happen unto any thing, which is not both usuall and naturall; why art thou displeased? Sure the common nature of all would not bring any thing upon any, that were intolerable. If therefore it be a thing externall that causeth thy griefe, [know, that] it is not that properly that doth cause it, but thine owne conceit and opinion concerning the thing: which thou mayest rid thy selfe of, when thou wilt. But if it be somewhat that is amisse in thine owne disposition, that doth grieve thee, mayest thou not rectifie thy dogmata [or, moral Tenets and opinions.] But if it gireve thee, that thou doest not performe that which seemeth unto thee right and just, why doest not thou choose rather to performe it then to grieve? But somewhat that is stronger then thy selfe doth hinder thee. Let it not grieve thee then, if it be not thy fault that the thing is not performed Yea but it is a thing of that nature, as that thy life is not worth the while, except it may be performed. If it be so, upon condition that thou be kindly and lovingly disposed towards all men, thou mayest be gone. For even then, as much as at any time, art thou in a very good estate of performance, when thou doest die in charity with those, that are an ob­stacle unto thy performance.

XLVI. Remember that thy minde [is of that na­ture as that it] becommeth altogether unconquera­ble, when once recollected in her selfe, shee seekes no other content then this, that she cannot be for­ced: yea though it so fall out, that it be even against [Page 135]Reason it selfe, that it doth bandie. How much lesse when by the help of Reason she is able to judge of things with discretion? And therefore let thy chiefe fort and place of defence be, a minde free from pas­sions. A stronger place, (whereunto to make his refuge, and so to become impregnable) and better fortified then this, hath no man. He that seeth not this, is unlearned. Hee that seeth it, and betaketh not himselfe to this place of refuge; is unhappy.

XLVII. Keepe thy selfe to the first [bare and na­ked] apprehensions of things, as they present them­selves unto thee, and adde not unto them. It is re­ported unto thee, that such a one speaketh ill of thee. Well; that he speaketh ill of thee, so much is reported. But that thou art hurt thereby, is not re­ported: [That is the addition of opinion, which thou must exclude.] I see that my child is sick. That hee is sick, I see, but that he is in danger of his life also, I see it not. Thus thou must use to keepe thy selfe to the first motions and apprehensions of things, as they present themselves outwardly; and adde not unto them from within thy selfe [through meere con­ceit and opinion.] Or rather adde unto them; but as one that understandeth the true nature of all things that happen in the world.

XLVIII. Is the cucumber bitter? set it away. Brambles are in the way? avoid them. Let this suf­fice. [...]. Adde not presently speaking unto thy selfe, What serve these things for in the world? For, this, one that is acquainted with the mysteries of Na­ture, will laugh at thee for it; as a Carpenter would or a Shoo-maker, if meeting in either of their shops [Page 136]with some shavings, or small remnants of their worke, thou shouldest blame them for it And yet those men, it is not for want of a place where to throw them [that obey keepe them in their shops for a while:] but the nature of the Universe hath no such out-place: but herein doth consist the wonder of her art and skill, that shee having once circumscribed her selfe within some certain bounds and limits, whatsoever is within her that seemes ei­ther corrupted, or old, or unprofitable, she can change it into herselfe, and of these very things can make new things, so that shee needeth not to seeke else­where out of her selfe either for a new supply of maner and substance, or for a place where to throw our whatsoever is irrecoverably putrid and corrupt. Thus shee, as for place, so for matter and art, is her selfe sufficient unto her selfe.

XLIX. Not to be slack and negligent; or loose, and wanton in thy actions, nor contentions, and troublesome in thy conversation, nor to rove and wander in thy phancies and imaginations. Not base­ly to contract thy soule: nor boistrously to fally out with it, [or, furiously to launch out as it were,] nor e­ver to want imployment.

L. They kill me, they cut my flesh: they perse­cute my person with curses. What then? May not thy minde for all this continue pure, prudent, tem­perate, just? As a fountaine of sweet and cleere water, though she be cursed by some slander by, yet do her springs neverthelesse still runne as sweet and cleere as before, yea though either durt or dung he throwne in, yet is it no sooner throwne, then dis­persed, [Page 137]and she cleared. Shee cannot be dyed [or, infected] by it. What then must I doe, that I may have [within my selfe] an overflowing fountaine, and not a well? Beget thy selfe by continuall [paines and endeavours] to [true] liberty with charity, and true simplicity and modesty.

LI. He that knoweth not what the world is, kno­weth not where he himself is. And he that knoweth not what the world was made for, cannot possibly know either what are the qualities, or what is the nature of the world. Now he that in either of these is to seeke, for what he himselfe was made, is igno­rant also. What then dost thou thinke of that man, who proposeth unto himselfe, as a matter of great moment, the noyse and applause of men, who both where they are, and what they are themselues, are altogether ignorant? Dost thou desire to be com­mended of that man, who thrice in one houre per­chance, doth himselfe curse himselfe? Doest thou desire to please him, who pleaseth not himselfe? or doest thou thinke that hee pleaseth himselfe, who doth vse to repent himselfe almost of every thing that he doth?

LII. Not only now henceforth to [...]. have a common breath [or, to hold correspondencie of breath:] with that Ayre, that compasseth us about; but [...]. to have a common minde [or, to hold correspondencie of minde] also with that rationall substance, which compasseth all things. For, that also is of it selfe, and of its own nature (if a man can but draw it in as he should:) eve­ry where diffused, and passeth through all things, no lesse then the Ayre doth, if a man can but suck it in.

LIII. Wickednesse in generall doth not hurt the World. Particular wickednesse doth not hurt any other: See be­fore N. 32. onely unto him it is hurtfull, [whosoever hee be that offends,] unto whom [in great favour and mer­cie] it is granted, that whensoever he himselfe shall but first desire it, hee may be presently delivered of it. Unto my Free-will my neighbours free-will, whoever hee be, (as his life, or his body) is altoge­ther indifferent. For though wee are all made one for another, yet have our minds and understandings, each of them their owne proper and limited juris­diction. For else another mans wickednesse might be my evill; which God would not have, that it might not be in another mans power; to make me unhappy: [which nothing now can doe but mine owne wickednesse.]

LIV. The Sun seemeth to be shed abroad. And in­deed it is diffused but not effused. For that diffusion of it is a [...] or an extension. For therefore are the beams of it called [...] from the word [...], to be stretched out and extended. Now what a Sun beame is, thou mayest know if thou observe the light of the Sun, when through some narrow hole it pierceth in­to some roome that is dark. For it is alwayes in a di­rect line. And as by any solid body, that it meetes with in the way that is not penetrable by ayre, it is divided and abrupted, and yet neither slides off, or falls downe, but stayeth there neverthelesse: such must the diffusion of the minde be: not an effusion, but an extension. What obstacles and impediments soever shee meeteth with in her way, shee must not violently, and by way of an impetuous onset light [Page 139]upon them; neither must shee fall downe; but she must stand, and give light unto that which doth ad­mit of it. For as for that which doth not, [it is its owne fault and losse, if] it bereave it selfe of her light.

LV. He that feareth Death, either feareth that he shall have no sense at all, or that his senses will not be the same. Whereas, [he should rather comfort him­selfe, that] either no sense at all, and so no sense of evill; or if any sense, then another life, and so no death [properly.]

LVI. All men are made one for another either then teach them better, or beare with them.

LVII. The motion of the mind, is not as the mo­tion of a dart. For the minde when it is wary and cautelous, and by way of diligent circumspection turneth her selfe many wayes, may then as well be said to goe straight on to the object, [as when it useth no such circumspection.]

LVIII. To pierce and penetrate into the estate of every ones understanding [that thou hast to do with:] See B. IX. N. 16 B. I. N. XI as also to make the estate of thine owne open, and penetrable to any other.

THE NINTH BOOKE.

HE that is unjust, is also impious. For the Nature of the Universe, having made all reasonable creatures one for another, to the end that they should do one another good; more or lesse according to the severall per­sons and occasions; but in no wise hurt one another: it is manifest that hee that doth transgresse against this her will, is guilty of impiety towards the most ancient and venerable of all the Deities. For the Nature of the Universe, is the nature [the common Parent of all, and therefore piously to be observed] of all things that are, and that which now is, to whatso­ever first was, and gave it its being, hath relation of blood and kindred. Shee is also called Truth; and is the first cause of all truths. He therefore that willingly and wittingly doth lye, is impious in that he doth deceive, and so commit injustice: but hee that against his will, in that he disagreeth from the nature of the Universe, and in that striving with the nature of the World he doth in his particular, [...]. vio­late the generall order of the world. For hee doth no better then strive and warre against it, who contrary to his owne Nature applieth himselfe to that which is contrary to truth. For Nature had before fur­nisht [Page 141]him with instincts and opportunities [sufficient for the attainement of it:] which he having hitherto neglected, is not now able to discerne that which is false from that which is true. Hee also that pursues after pleasures, as that which is truely good; See Note 5. upon B. II. and flies from paines, as that which is truely evill, is impious. For such a one must of necessity oftentimes accuse that common Nature, as distributing many things both unto the evill, & unto the good, not according to the deserts of either: as unto the bad oftentimes pleasures, and the causes of pleasures; So unto the good, paines, and the occasions of paines. Againe, he that feareth paines and crosses in the world, fea­reth some of those things which sometime or other must needes happen in the world. And that wee have already shewed to be impious. And hee that pursueth after pleasures, will not spare, [to compasse his desires] to doe that which is unjust, and that is manifestly impious. Now those things which unto Nature are equally indifferent (for she had not crea­ted both, both paine and pleasure, if both had not beene unto her equally indifferent:) they that will live according to Nature, must in those things (as being of the same minde and disposition that shee is) be as equally indifferent. Whosoever therefore in either matter of pleasure and paine; death, and life; honour and dishonour, (which things Nature in the administration of the world, indifferently doth make use of,) is not as indifferent, it is appa­rent that hee is impious. When I say that common Nature doth indifferently make use of them, my meaning is, that in the ordinary course of things, [Page 142]which by a necessary consequence (according to that first and ancient deliberation of Providence, by which shee from some certaine beginning, did re­solve upon the creation of such a World, conceiving then in her wombe as it were some certaine rational generative seedes & faculties of things future, whe­ther subjects, changes, successions; both such and such▪ and just so many:) whether as principall or ac­cessorie come to passe in the world, they happen in­differently.

II. It were indeed more happy and comfortable, for a man to depart out of this World, having lived all his life long cleare from all falshood, dissimulati­on, voluptuousnesse, and pride. But if this cannot be, yet is it some comfort for a man [joyfully] to de­part [as] weary, and out of love with those; rather then to desire to live, and to continue long in these wicked courses. Hath not yet experience taught thee to flye from the plague? For a farre greater plague is the corruption of the minde, then any certaine change and distemper of the common aire can be. This is a plague of creatures, as they are li­ving creatures; but that of men as they are men [or reasonable.]

III. Thou must not in matter of death, carry thy selfe scornfully, but as one that is well pleased with it, as being one of those things that Nature hath ap­pointed. For what thou dost conceive of these, of a boy to become a young man, to waxe old, to grow, to ripen, to get teeth, or a beard, or gray haires; to beget, to beare, or to be delivered; or what other action soever it be, that is naturall unto man according to the se­verall [Page 143]seasons of his life; such a thing is it also to be dissolved. It is therefore the part of a wise man, in matter of death, See note upon B. XI N. 3. not in any wise to carry himselfe either violently, or proudly; but patiently to wayte for it, as one of Natures operations: that with the same minde as now thou doest expect when that which yet is but an Embryo in thy Wifes belly shall come forth; thou mayst expect also when thy soule shall fall off from that [outward coat or skinne:] where­in [as a childe in the belly] it lieth involved and shut up. But if thou desirest a more popular, and though not so direct and philosophicall, yet a very power­full and penetratiue receipt against the feare of death, Nothing can make thee more willing to part with thy life, then if thou shalt consider, both what the subjects thēselves are that thou shalt part with, and what manner of dispositions thou shalt no more haue to doe with. True it is, that offended with them thou must not be by no meanes, but take care of them, and meekely beare with them. However, this thou mayest remember, that whensoever it happens that thou depart, it shall not be from men that held the same opinions that thou doest. For that indeede, (if it were so) is the onely thing that might make thee averse from death, and willing to continue here, if it were thy hap to live with men that had obtained the same beliefe that thou hast. But now, what a toyle it is for thee to live with men of different opinions, thou seest: so that thou hast rather occasion to say, Hasten, I thee pray, O Death; least I also in time forget my selfe.

IV. He that sinneth, sinneth unto himselfe. Hee [Page 144]that is unjust, hurts himselfe, in that he makes him­selfe worse then he was before. Not he onely that committeth, but he also that omitteth some thing, is oftentimes unjust.

V. If my present apprehension of the object be right, and my present action charitable, and this, towards whatsoever doth proceed from God, be my present disposition, to be well pleased with it, it sufficeth.

VI. To wipe away phancie, to use deliberation, to quench concupiscence, to keepe the minde free to her selfe.

VII. Of all unreasonable creatures, there is but one unreasonable soule; and of all that are reaso­nable, but one reasonable Soule, divided betwixt them all. As of all earthly things there is but one Earth; and but one light that we see by; and but one ayre that we breath in, as many as either breath or see. Now whatsoever partakes of some common thing, naturally affects & enclines unto that where­of it is part, being of one kinde and nature with it. Whatsoever is Earthly, presseth downwards to the common Earth. Whatsoever is liquid, would flow together. And whatsoever is ayrie, would be toge­ther likewise. So that without some obstacle, and some kinde of violence, they cannot well be kept asunder. Whatsoever is fiery, doth not onely by reason of the Elementarie fire tend upwards; but here also is so ready to joyne, and to burne toge­ther, that whatsoever doth want sufficient moisture to make resistance, is easily set on fire. Whatsoever therefore is partaker of that reasonable common [Page 145]Nature, [naturally] doth as much and more long af­ter his owne kinde. For by how much in its owne nature it excells all other things, by so much more is it desirous to be joyned and united unto that, which is of its owne nature. As for unreasonable creatures then, they had not long beene, but presently begun among them swarmes, and flocks, and broods of young ones, and a kinde of mutuall love and affecti­on. For [though but unreasonable, yet] a [kinde of] soule these had, and therefore was that naturall de­sire of union more strong and intense in them, as in creatures of a more excellent nature, then either in plants, or stones, or trees. But among reasonable creatures, begunne common-wealths, friendships, families, publick meetings, and even in their warres conventions and truces. Now among them that were yet of a more excellent nature, as the starres and planets, though by their nature farre distant one from another, yet even among them beganne some mutuall correspondencie and unitie. So proper is it to excellencie in a high degree to affect unitie, as that even in things so farre distant, it could operate unto a mutuall Sympathie. But now behold, what is now come to passe. Those creatures that are rea­sonable, are now the only creatures that have for­gotten their naturall affection & inclination of one towards another. Among them alone [of all other things that are of one kinde] there is not to be found, a generall disposition to flow together. But though they fly from Nature, yet are they stopt in their course, and apprehended. Doe they what they can, Nature doth prevaile. And so shalt thou confesse, if thou [Page 146]doest observe it. For sooner mayest thou finde a thing earthly, where no earthly thing is, then finde a man that [naturally] can live by himselfe a­lone.

VIII. Man, God, the World, every one in their kinde, beare some fruits. All things have their pro­per time to beare. Though by custome, the word it selfe is in a manner become proper unto the vine, and the like, yet is it so neverthelesse, as wee have said. As for reason, that beareth both common fruit for the use of others; and peculiar, which it selfe doth enjoy. Reason is of a diffusive nature, what it selfe is in it selfe, it begets in others, and so doth multi­ply.

IX. Either teach them better if it be in thy pow­er; or if it be not, remember that for this use [to beare with them patiently] was mildnesse and good­nesse granted unto thee. The gods themselves are good unto such; yea and in some things, (as in mat­ter of health, of wealth, of honour,) are content of­ten to further their endeavours: so good and graci­ous are thy. And mightest thou not be so too? or, tell me, what doth hinder thee?

X. Labour not as one [to whom it is appointed to be] wretched, nor as one that either would be pittied, or admired; but let this be thine only care & desire, so alwayes and in all things to prosecute or to for­beare, as the law of Charity [or, mutuall society] doth require.

XI. This day I did come out of all my trouble. Nay I have cast out all my trouble; it should rather be. For that which troubled thee, whatsoever it was, was [Page 147]not without any where [that thou shouldest come out of it] but within in thine owne opinions, [from whence it must be cast out, before thou canst truly and constantly be at ease.]

XII. All those things, for matter of experience are usuall and ordinarie; for their continuance but for a day; and for their matter, most base, and filthy. As they were in the dayes of those whom we have buried, so are they now also, and no otherwise.

XIII. The things themselves [that affect us] they stand without doores, neither knowing any thing themselves nor able to utter any thing unto others concerning themselves. What then is it, that pas­seth verdict on them? The understanding.

XIV. As vertue and wickednesse consist not in passion, but in action; so neither doth the true good or evill of a reasonable charitable man consist in pas­sion, but in operation and action.

XV. To the stone that is cast up, when it comes downe it is no hurt unto it; as neither benefit, when it doth ascend.

XVI. Sift their mindes and understandings, and behold what men they be, whom thou doest stand in feare of what they shall judge of thee, what they themselves judge of themselves.

XVII. All things that are in the world, are al­wayes in the estate of alteration. Thou also art in a perpetuall change, yea and under corruption too, in some part: and so is the whole world.

XVIII. It is [not thine, but] another mans sinne. [Why should it trouble thee?] Let him looke to it, whose sinne it is.

XIX. Of an operation and of a purpose there is an ending [or, of an action and of a purpose wee say commonly; that it is at an end:] from opinion also there is an [absolute] cessation, which is as it were the death of it. In all this there is no hurt. Apply this now to a mans age, as first, a child; then a youth, then a young man, then an old man; every change from one age to another is a kinde of death. And all this while here is no matter of griefe yet. Passe now unto that life, first, that which thou livedst un­der thy Grandfather, then under thy Mother, then under thy Father. And thus when through the whole course of thy life hitherto thou hast found and observed many alterations, many changes, many kindes of endings and cessations, put this question to thy selfe, what matter of griefe or sorrow dost thou finde in any of these? [or, what doest thou suffer through any of these?] If in none of these, then nei­ther in the ending and consummation of thy whole life, [which also is but] a cessation and change.

XX. [As occasion shall require,] either to thine owne Understanding, or to that of the Universe, or to his, [whom thou hast now to doe with,] let thy re­fuge be with all speed. To thine owne, that it re­solve upon nothing against justice. To that of the Universe, that thou maist remember, part of whom thou art. Of his, that thou mayest consider, whether in the estate of ignorance, or of knowledge. And then also must thou call to minde, that he is thy Kinsman.

XXI. As thou thy selfe [who ever thou art] wert made for the perfection and consummation [being a [Page 149]member of it] of a common society; so must every action of thine tend to the perfection and consum­mation of a life that is [truly] sociable. What action soever of thine therefore that either immediately or afarre off, hath not reference to the common good, that is an exorbitant, and disoderly action; yea it is seditious; as one among the people who from such and such a consent and unity, should facti­ously divide and separate himselfe.

XXII. Childrens anger, meere bables; wretched soules bearing up dead bodies, that they may not have their fall so soone: Even as it is in that common dirge song. [or, bearing up dead bodies, that the num­ber of the dead, may not be full so soone.]

XXIII. Goe to the qualitie of the cause [from which the effect doth proceed.] Behold it by it selfe bare and naked, separated from all that is materiall. Then consider the utmost bounds of time that that cause, thus and thus qualified, can subsist and abide.

XXIV. Infinite are the troubles and miseries, that thou hast already beene put to, by reason of this only, because that for all happinesse it did not suffice thee, [or, that thou didst not account it sufficient happinesse,] that thy understanding did operate ac­cording to its naturall constitution.

XXV. When any shall either impeach thee with false accusations, or hatefully reproach thee, or shall use any such carriage towards thee, get thee present­ly to their mindes and understandings, and looke in them, and behold what manner of men they bee. Thou shalt see, that there is no such occasion why it should trouble thee, what such as they are thinke of [Page 150]thee. Yet must thou love them still, for by nature they are thy friends. See be­fore N. IX. And the gods themselves, in those things that they seeke from them as matters of great moment, are well content, all manner of wayes (as by dreames and oracles) to helpe them [as well as others.]

XXVI. Up and downe, from one age to another, goe the ordinarie things of the world; being still the same. And either of every thing in particular [before it come to passe,] the minde of the Universe doth consider with it selfe and deliberate: And if so, then submit [for shame] unto the determination of [such an excellent] Understanding: or once for all it did resolve upon all things in generall; and since that whatsoever happens, happens by a neces­sary consequence; and all things indivisibly in a manner and inseparably hold one of another. In summe, either there is a God, and then all is well; or or if all things goe by chance and fortune, yet maist thou use thine owne providence [in those things that concerne thee properly; and then art thou well.]

XXVII. Within a while the Earth shall cover us all, and then shee her selfe shall have her change. And then the course will be, from one period of e­ternitie unto another, and so a perpetuall eternitie. Now can any man that shall consider with himselfe in his mind the severall rollings [or, successions] of so many changes and alterations, and the swiftnesse of all these rollings; can he otherwise but contemne in his heart and despise all worldly things? The Cause of the Universe [or, the generall cause] is as it were a strong torrent, it caryeth all away.

XXVIII. And these your professed politicians, the only true practick of philosophers of the world, (as they thinke of themselves) so full of affected gra­vitie, [or, such profest lovers of vertue and honestie,] what wretches be they in very deed; how vile and contemptible in themselves? O man! what a doe doest thou keepe? Doe what thy nature doth now require. Resolve upon it, if thou mayest: and take no thought, whether any body shall know it or no. Yea, but [sayest thou] I must not expect a Plato's common-wealth. If they profit though never so little, I must be content; and thinke much even of that little progresse. Doth then any of them for­sake their former [false] opinions [that I should think they profit?] For without a change of opinions, alas! what is all that ostentation, but meere wret­chednesse of slavish mindes, that groane privately, and yet would make a shew of obedience [to Reason, and Truth?] Goe too now and tell me of Alexander and Philippus, and Demetrius Phalaereus Whether they understood what the common nature requi­reth, & could rule themselves or no, they know best themselves. But if they kept a life, and swaggered; I (God be thanked) am not bound to imitate them. The effect of true Philosopie is, unaffected simplici­tie, and modestie. Perswade me not to ostentation and vaine glory.

XXIX. From some high place as it were to looke downe, and to behold here flocks, See B. VII. N. 26. and there sacrifi­ces, without number; and all kinde of navigation; some in a ruffe and stormie sea, and some in a calme: the general differences, [or, different estates] of things, [Page 152]some, that are now first upon being; the severall and mutuall relations of those things that are toge­ther; and some other things that are at their last. Their lives also, who were long agoe, and theirs who shall be hereafter, and the present estate and life of those many nations of Barbares that are now in the world, thou must likewise consider in thy minde. And how many there be, who never so much as heard of thy Name, how many that will soone forget it; how many who but even now did com­mend thee, within a very little while perchance, will speake ill of thee. So that neither fame, nor ho­nour, nor any thing else that this world doth afford, is worth the while. The summe then of all; What­soever doth happen unto thee, whereof God is the cause, to accept it contentedly: whatsoever thou doest, whereof thou thy selfe art the cause; to doe it justly: which will be, if both in thy resolution, and in thy action thou have no further end, then to doe good unto others, as being that, which by thy natu­rall constitution, [or, as a man:] thou art bound unto.

XXX. Many of those things that trouble and straighten thee, it is in thy power to cut off, as whol­ly depending from meere conceit and opinion, and then thou shalt have roome enough.

XXXI. To comprehend the whole world toge­ther in thy minde, and the whole course of this pre­sent age to represent it unto thy selfe, and to fixe thy thoughts upon the suddaine change of every particular object. How short the time is from the generation of any thing, unto the dissolution of the same; but how immense and infinite both that [Page 153]which was before the generation, and that which after the generation of it shall be. All things that thou seest, will soone be perished, and they that see their corruptions, will soone vanish away them­selves. Hee that dieth a hundred yeares old, and he that dieth young, shall come all to one.

XXXII. What are their mindes and understan­dings; and what the things that they apply them­selves unto: what doe they love, and what doe they hate for? Phancie to thy selfe the estate of their soules openly to be seene. When they thinke they hurt them shrewdly, whom they speake ill of; and when they thinke they doe them a very good turne, whom they commend and extoll: O how full are they then of conceit, and opinion!

XXXIII. Losse and corruption, is in very deed no­thing else but change and alteration; and that is it, which the Nature of the Universe doth most de­light in, by which, and according to which, whatso­ever is done, is well done. For that was the estate of worldly things from the beginning, and so shall it ever be. Or wouldest thou rather say, that all things in the world have gone ill [from the begin­ning for so many Ages] and shall ever goe ill▪ And thē among so many Deities, could no Divine power be found all this while, that could rectifie the things of the world? Or is the world, to incessant woes and miseries, for ever condemned?

XXXIV. How base and putrid, every common matter is? Water, dust, [and from the mixture of these] bones, and all that loathsome stuffe [that our bodies doe consist of; so subject to bee infected, and [Page 154]corrupted. And againe [those other things that are so much prized, and admired, as] marble stones [what are they, but as it were] the Kernels of the Earth? gold and silver, [what are they, but as] the more grosse faeces of the Earth? Thy [most royall] apparel, for matter, it is but as it were the haire [of a silly sheepe] and for colour, the very blood [of a shell fish] of this nature are all other things. Thy life it selfe, is some such thing too; [a meere exhalation of blood:] and it also, apt to be changed into some other com­mon thing.

XXXV. Will this querulousnesse, this murmuring, this complaining and dissembling never bee at an end? What then is it, that troubleth thee? Doth any new thing happen unto thee? What doest thou so wonder at? At the Cause, or the matter? Behold either by it selfe, [is either of that weight and moment indeede?] And besides these, there is not any thing. But thy duty towards the Gods also, it is time that thou shouldest acquit thy selfe of it with more goodnesse and simplicity.

XXXVI. It is all one to see these things for a hun­dred of yeares together, or but for three yeares.

XXXVII. If he have sinned, his is the harme, not mine. But perchance he hath not.

XXXVIII. Either all things by the providence of Reason happen unto every particular, as a part of one generall body; and then it is against reason that a part should complaine of any thing that happens for the good of the Whole; or if [according to Epicu­rus] Atomes [be the Cause of all things] and [that life be] nothing else but an accidentarie confusion of [Page 155]things, and [death nothing else, but] a meere Dis­persion [and so of all other things:] what doest thou trouble thy selfe for?

XXXIX. Sayest thou unto that Rationall part, Thou art dead; corruption hath taken hold on thee? Doth it then also voide excrements? Doth it like either Oxen, or sheepe, graze or feede; [that it also should be mort all, as well as the body?]

XL. Either the Gods can doe nothing for vs at all, or they can still and alay all the distractions and distempers of thy minde. If they can doe nothing, why doest thou pray? If they can, why wouldst not thou rather pray, that they will grant unto thee, that thou mayst neither feare, nor lust after any of those [worldly] things [which cause these distractions, and distempers of it?] Why not rather, that thou mayst not at either their absence or presence, bee grie­ved and discontented: then either that thou mayst obtaine them, or that thou maist avoyde them? For certainly it must needs be, that if the Gods can help us in any thing, they may in this kinde also. But thou wilt say perchance, In those things the Gods have given me my liberty: and it is in mine owne power to doe what I will. But if thou mayest use this liberty, rather to set thy minde at true liberty, then wilfully with basenesse and servility of minde, to affect those things, which [either to compasse or to avoyde] is not in thy power, wert not thou better? And as for the Gods, who hath told thee, that they may not helpe vs up even in those things that they have put in our owne power? Whether it be so or no, thou shalt soone perceive, if thou wilt but try [Page 156]thy selfe and pray. One prayeth that he may com­passe his desire, to lye with such or such a one, pray thou that thou mayest not lust to lye with her. Another how hee may be rid of such a one; pray thou that thou [mayest so patiently beare with him, as that thou] have no such neede to be rid of him. An­other, that hee may not lose his child. Pray thou that thou mayst not feare to lose him. To this end and purpose, let all thy prayer be, and see what will be the event.

XLI. In my sicknesse (sayeth Epicurus of himselfe:) my discourses were not concerning the nature of my dis­case, neither was that, to them that came to visite mee, the subject of my talke; but in the consideration and contemplation of that, which was of especiall weight and moment, was all my time bestowed and spent, and among others in this very thing, how my minde, by a naturall and unavoydable sympathie partaking in some sort with the present indisposition of my body, might neverthelesse keepe herselfe free from trouble, and in present possession of her owne proper happinesse. Neither did I leave the ordering of my body to Physicians altogether to doe with me what they would, as though I expected any great mat­ter from them, [Or, as though I thought it a matter of such great consequence, by their meanes to recover my health:] for my present estate, me thought, liked me ve­ry well, and gave me good content. Whether therefore in sicknesse (if thou chance to sicken:) or in what other kinde of extremity soever, endeavour thou also to be in thy minde so affected, as hee doth re­port of himselfe: not to depart from thy philoso­phie for any thing that can befall thee, nor to give [Page 157]eare to the discourses of silly people, and meere na­turalists.

XLII. It is common to all trades and professions to minde and intend that only, which now they are about, and the instrument whereby they worke.

XLIII. When at any time thou art offended with any ones impudencie, put presently this question to thy selfe; What? Is it then possible, that there should not be any impudent men in the world! Cer­tainly it is not possible. Desire not then that which is impossible. For this one, (thou must thinke) who­soever he be, is one of those impudent ones, that the world cannot be without. So of the subtle and craftie, so of the perfidious, so of every one that of­fendeth, must thou ever bee ready to reason with thy selfe. For whilest in generall thou doest thus reason with thy selfe, that the kinde of them must needs be in the world, thou wilt be the better able to use meeknesse towards every particular. This al­so thou shalt find of very good use, upon every such occasion, presently to consider with thy selfe, what proper vertue nature hath furnished man with, a­gainst such a vice, [or, to encounter with a disposition vicious in this kinde.] As for example, against the unthankfull, it hath given goodnesse and meeknesse, as an antidote, and so against another [vicious in a­nother kinde] some other peculiar facultie. And generally, is it not in thy power to instruct him bet­ter, that is in an error? For whosoever sinneth, doth in that decline from his purposed end, and is cer­tainly deceived. And againe, what art thou the worse for his sinne? For thou shalt not finde that [Page 158]any one of these, against whom thou art incensed, hath in very deed done any thing whereby thy minde (the only true subject of thy hurt and evill:) can be made worse, then it was. And what a matter of either griefe or wonder is this, if he that is unlear­ned, doe the deeds of one that is unlearned? Should not thou rather blame thy self, who, when upō very good grounds of reason, thou mightst have thought it very probable, that such a thing would by such a one be committed, didst not onely not foresee it, but moreover doest wonder at it, that such a thing should be. But then especially, when thou doest finde fault with either an unthankfull, or a false man, must thou reflect upon thy selfe. For without all question, thou thy selfe art much in fault, if either of one that were of such a disposition thou didst ex­pect that he should be true unto thee: or when un­to any thou didst a good turne, thou didst not there bound thy thoughts, as one that had obtained his end; nor didst not thinke that from the action it selfe thou hadst received a full reward of the good that thou hadst done. For what wouldst thou have more? Unto him that is a man, thou hast done a good turne: doth not that suffice thee? What thy nature required, that hast thou done. Must thou be rewarded for it? As if either the eye for that it see­eth, or the feet for that they goe, should require sa­tisfaction. For as these being by nature appointed for such an use, can challenge no more, then that they may worke according to their naturall consti­tution: so man being borne to do good unto others whensoever he doth a reall good unto any [by hel­ping [Page 159]them out of errour;] or though but in middle things [as in matter of wealth, life, preferment, and the like] doth helpe to further their desires; he doth that for which he was made, and therefore can require no more.

THE TENTH BOOKE.

O My soule, the time I trust will be, when thou shalt be good, simple, single, more open and visible, then that body by which it is inclosed. Thou wilt one day be sensible of their happinesse, whose end is love, and their affections dead to al worldly things. Thou shalt one day be full, and in want of no externall thing: not seeking pleasure from any thing, either living or unsensible, that this World can afford; nei­ther wanting time for the continuation of thy plea­sure, nor place and oportunitie, nor the favour ei­ther of the weather or of men. When thou shalt have content in thy present estate, and all things present shall adde to thy content: when thou shalt perswade thy selfe, that thou hast all things; all for thy good, and all by the providence of the gods: and of things future also shalt bee as confident, See B. v. N. 8. last lines. that all will doe well, as tending to the maintenance and preservation in some sort, of his perfect welfare [Page 160]and happinesse, who is perfection of life, of good­nesse, and beautie; Who begets all things, and con­taineth all things in himselfe, and in himselfe doth recollect all things from all places that are dissolved, that of them he may beget others againe like unto them. Such one day shall be thy disposition, that thou shalt be able, both in regard of the gods, and in regard of men, so to fit and order thy conversati­on, as neither to complaine of them at any time, for any thing that they doe; nor to doe any thing thy selfe, for which thou mayest [justly] be condemned.

II. As one who is altogether governed by na­ture, let it be thy care to observe what it is that thy nature [in generall] doth require. That done, if thou finde not that thy nature, as thou art a living sensi­ble creature, will be the worse for it, thou mayest proceed. Next then thou must examine, what thy nature as thou art a living sensible creature, doth re­quire. And that, whatsoever it be, thou mayest ad­mit of and doe it, if thy nature as thou art a reason­able liuing creature, will not bee the worse for it. Now whatsoever is reasonable, is also sociable. Keep thy selfe to these rules, and trouble not thy selfe a­bout idle things.

III. Whatsoever doth happen unto thee, thou art naturally by thy naturall constitution either a­ble, or not able to beare. If thou beest able, be not offended, but beare it according to thy naturall con­stitution [or, as nature hath inabled thee,] If thou beest not able, be not offended. For it will soone make an end of thee, and it selfe, (whatsoever it be) at the same time end with thee. But remember, that [Page 161]whatsoever by the strength of opinion, grounded upon a certaine apprehension of both [true] profit and duty thou canst conceive tolerable; that thou art able to beare that by thy naturall constitution.

IV. Him that offends, to teach with love and meeknesse, and to shew him his error. But if thou canst not, then to blame thy selfe, or rather not thy selfe neither, [if thy will and endeavours have not been wanting,]

V. Whatsoever it be that happens unto thee, it is that which from all time was appointed unto thee. For by the same cohaerence of causes, by which thy substance from all eternitie was appointed to bee, was also whatsoever should happen unto it, desti­nated and appointed.

VI. Either [with Epicurus, we must fondly imagine] the atomes [to be the cause of all things] or [wee must needs grant] a Nature. Let this then bee thy first ground, that thou art part of that Universe, which is governed by nature. Then secondly, that to those parts that are of the same kinde and Nature as thou art, thou hast relation of kindred. For of these, if I shall alwayes be mindfull, first as I am a part, I shall never be displeased with any thing, that falls to my particular share of the common chances of the world. For nothing that is behoovefull unto the whole, can be [truly] hurtfull to that which is part of it. For this being the common priviledge of all natures, that they containe nothing in themselves that is hurtfull unto them; it cannot be that the na­ture of the Universe (whose priviledge beyond o­ther particular natures, is, that shee cannot against [Page 162]her will by any higher externall cause be constrai­ned,) should beget any thing [and cherish it in her bosome] that should tend to her owne hurt and pre­judice. As then I beare in minde that I am a part of such an Universe, I shall not be displeased with any thing that happens. And as I have relation of kin­dred to those parts that are of the same kinde and nature that I am, so I shall bee carefull to doe no­thing that is prejudiciall to the communitie, but in all my deliberations shall my Kinde ever be; and the common good, that, which all my intentions and resolutions shall drive unto, as that which is contra­ry unto it, I shall by all meanes endeavour to pre­vent and avoid. These things once so fixed and con­cluded, as thou wouldest thinke him an happy citi­zen, whose constant studie and practise were for the good and benefit of his fellow Citizens, and the ca­riage of the Citie such towards him, that hee were well pleased with it; so must it needs be with thee, that thou shalt live a happy life.

VII. All parts of the world, (all things I meane that are contained within the whole world,) must of necessitie at some time or other come to corrupti­on. Alteration I should say, to speake truly and pro­perly; but that I may be the better understood, I am content at this time to use that more commō word. Now say I, if so bee that this bee both hurtfull unto them, and yet unavoidable, would not, thinkest thou, the whole it selfe bee in a sweet case, all the parts of it being subject to alteration, yea and by their making it selfe fitted for corruption, as consi­sting of things different and contrarie? And did na­ture [Page 163]then either of her selfe thus project and pur­pose the affliction and miserie of her parts, & there­fore of purpose so made them, not only that haply they might, but of necessity that they should fall in­to evill; or did not shee know what shee did, when shee made them? For either of these two to say, is equally absurd. But to let passe nature in generall, and to reason of things particular according to their owne particular natures; how absurd and ridiculous is it, first to say that all parts of the whole are, by their proper naturall constitution subject to altera­tion; and then when any such thing doth happen [as when one doth fall sick and dyeth] to take on and won­der as though some strange thing had happened? Though this besides might moove not so grievously to take on when any such thing doth happen, that whatsoever is dissolved, it is dissolved into those things, whereof it was compounded. For every dis­solution is either a meere dispersion, of the Ele­ments into those Elements againe whereof every thing did consist, or a change, of that which is more solid into Earth; and of that which is pure and sub­till [or, spirituall;] into aire. So that [by this meanes nothing is lost, but] all resumed againe into those ra­tionall generative seeds of the Universe; and this U­niverse, either after a certaine period of time to be consumed by fire, or by continuall changes to bee renued, and so for ever to endure. Now that solid and Spirituall that wee speak of, thou must not con­ceive it to bee that very same, which at first was, when thou wert borne. For alas! all this that now thou art in either kinde [either for matter of substance, [Page 164]or, of life;] hath but two or three dayes agoe partly from meates eaten, and partly from aire breathed in, received all its [...] influxe, [being the same then in no other respect, then a running river, maintained by the perpetuall influxe and new supply of waters, is the same.] That therefore which thou hast since received, not that which came from thy Mother, is that which comes to change [and corruption.] But suppose that that [for the generall substance, and more solid part of it] should still cleave unto thee never so close, yet what is that to the proper qualities, and affections of it, [by which persons are distinguished] which cer­tainly are quite different?

VIII. Now that thou hast taken these names up­on thee of good, modest, true; of [...]; take heed least at any times [by doing any thing that is contrarie,] thou be but improperly so called, and lose thy right to these appellations. Or if thou doe, return unto them again with all possible speed. And remember, that the word [...] notes unto thee an intent and intelligent consideration of every ob­ject that presents it selfe unto thee, without distra­ction. And the word [...], a ready and conten­ted acceptation of whatsoever by the appointment of the common nature, happens unto thee. And the word [...], a super-extention [or, a transcendent, and outreaching disposition] of thy minde, whereby it passeth by all bodily paines and pleasures, honour and credit, death and whatsoever is of the same Na­ture, [as matters of absolate indifferencie, and in no wife to be stood upon by a wise man.] These then if in­violably thou shalt observe, and shalt not be ambiti­ous [Page 165]to bee so called by others, both thou thy selfe shalt become a new man, and thou shalt begin a new life. For to continue such as hitherto thou hast beene, to undergoe those distractions and distem­pers [as thou must needes] for such a life [as hitherto thou hast lived,] is the part of one that is very foo­lish, and is overfond of his life. Whom a man might compare to one of those halfe-eaten wretches, mat­ched in the Amphitheatre with wild beasts; who as full as they are all the body over with wounds and blood, desire for a great favour, that they may be reserved till the next day, then also, and in the same estate to bee exposed to the same nayles and teeth as before. Away therefore, ship thy selfe, and [frō the troubles & distractions of thy former life] con­vay thy selfe as it were unto these few Names; and if thou canst abide in them [or, be constant in the pra­ctise and possession of them] continue there [as glad and joyfull] as one that were translated unto certaine [truely and really so, not by way of name and appellation onely] MAKAPON NHCOYC. Ilands of the Blessed, [ otherwise called, The Blessed Ilands. And whenso­ever thou findest thy selfe, that thou art in danger of a relapse, and that thou art not able to master and overcome [those difficulties, and temptations that pre­sent themselves in thy present station:] get thee into any private corner, where thou mayest bee better able. Or if that will not serve, forsake even thy life rather. But so that it be not in passion, but in a plaine voluntary modest way: this being the onely com­mendable action of thy whole life, that thus thou art departed [or, this having beene the maine worke, [Page 166]and businesse of thy whole life, that thou mightest thus depart.] Now for the better remembrance of those names that we have spoken of, thou shalt finde it a very good helpe, to remember the Gods [as often as may be;] and that, that which they require at our hands, of as many of us, as are by nature reasonable creatures; is not that [with faire words, and outward shew of piety and devotion.] we should flatter them, but that we should become like unto them: and that as all other naturall creatures, the Figge tree for ex­ample; the Dogge, the Bee; both doe, all of them, and apply themselves unto that, which by their na­turall constitution, is proper unto them; so man likewise should doe that, which by his Nature, as he is a man, belongs unto him.

IX. Toyes and fooleries [at home;] warres [abroad:] sometimes terror, somtimes torpor, or, stupid sloath:] this is thy dayly slaverie. By little and little [if thou doest not better looke to it] those sacred Dogmata will be blotted out of thy minde. How many things be there, which when as a meere naturalist, thou hast barely considered of according to their nature, thou doest let passe without any further use? Whereas thou shouldst i [...] all things so joyne action and con­templation, that thou mightest both at the same time attend all present occasions, to performe every thing duly, and carefully; and yet so intend the contemplative part too, that no part of that delight and pleasure, which the contemplative knowledge of every thing, according to its true nature doth of it selfe afford, might be lost. [Or, that the true and contemplative knowledge of every thing according to its [Page 167]owne nature, might of it selfe, (action being subject to many lets and impediments) afford unto thee sufficient pleasure and happinesse.] Not apparent indeede, but not concealed. And when shalt thou attaine to the happinesse of true Simplicity, and unaffected gra­vity? When shalt thou rejoyce in the certaine knowledge of every particular object according to its true Nature: as what the matter and substance of it is; what use it is for in the world: how long it can subsist: what things it doth consist of: who they be that are capable of it, and who they that can give it, and take it away?

X. As the Spider, when it hath caught the Fly that it hunted after, is not little proud, nor meanely conceited of her selfe: as hee likewise that hath caught an Hare, or hath taken a Fish with his net: as another for the taking of a Boare, and another of a Beare: so may they be proud, and applaud them­selves for their valiant acts against the Sarmatae [or, Northern Nations lately defeated.] For these also, [these famous souldiers and warlike men,] if thou dost looke into their mindes and opinions, what doe they for the most part but hunt after prey?

XI. To finde out, and set to thy selfe some certain way and method of contemplation, whereby thou mayest clearely discerne and represent unto thy selfe, the mutuall change of all things, the one into the other. Beare it in thy minde evermore, and see that thou be throughly well exercised in this parti­cular. For there is not any thing more effectuall to beget true magnanimity.

XII. He hath got loose from, [or, hee hath shaken [Page 168]off the bonds of] his body, and perceiving that with­in a very little while hee must of necessity hid the World farewell, and leave all these things behinde him, hee wholy applied himselfe, as to righteous­nesse in all his actions, so to the common Nature in all things that should happen unto him. And con­tenting himselfe with these two things, to doe all things justly, and whatsoever God doth send to like well of it: what others shall either say or thinke of him, or shall doe against him, hee doth not so much as trouble his thoughts with it. To goe on straight, whither right and reason directed him, and by so doing to follow God, was the onely thing that hee did minde, that, his onely businesse and occu­pation.

XIII. What use is there of suspition at all? [or, why should thoughts of mistrust, and suspition concer­ning that which is future, trouble thy minde at all?] What now is to be done, if thou mayest search and enquire into that, what needes thou care for more? And if thou art well able to perceive it alone, let no man divert thee from it. But if alone thou doest not so well perceive it, suspend thine action, and take advice from the best. And if there bee any thing else that doth hinder thee, goe on with pru­dence and discretion, according to the present oc­casion and opportunity, still proposing that unto thy selfe, which thou doest conceive most right and just. For to [...] that aright, and to speed in one pro­secution of it, must needes be happinesse, since it is that onely which wee can. [truely and properly be said to] misse of, [or, miscarrie [...]]

XIV. What is that that is slow, and yet quick? merry and yet grave? Hoe that in all things doth follow Reason for his guide.

XV. In the morning as soone as thou art awaked [when thy judgement, before either thy affections, or ex­ternall objects have wrought upon it, is yet most free and impartiall:] put this question to thy selfe whether if that which is right and just be done, the doing of it by thy selfe, or by others [when thou art not able thy selfe] be a thing materiall or no. For sure it is not not. And as for these that keepe such a life, and stand so much upon the praises, or dispraises of other men, hast thou forgotten: what manner of men they be? that such and such upon their beds, and such at their hoard: what their ordinary acti­ons are: what they pursue after, and what they fly from: what thefts and rapines they commit, if not with their hands and feet, yet with that more precious part of theirs, their mindes: which (would it but admit of them) might enjoy faith, modesty, truth, justice, a good spirit.

XVI. Give what thou wilt, and take away what thou wilt, saith he that is well taught and truly mo­dest, to Him that gives, and takes away. And it is out of a stout, and peremptory resolution, that hee saith it, but in meere love and humble submission.

XVII. So live [as indifferent to the world, and all worldly objects] as one who live [...] by himselfe alone upon some desert hill. For whether here, or there, if the whole world be was one Towne, it matters not much for the place. Let them behold, and see a Man, that is a Man indeede, living according to [Page 170]the true nature of man. If they cannot beare with me, let them kill me. For better were it to die, then so to live [as they would have thee.]

XVIII. Not to make it any longer a matter of dis­pute, or discourse, what are the signes and pro­prieties of a good man, but really, and actually to be such.

XIX. Ever to represent unto thy selfe, and to set before thee, both the generall Age, and Time of the World, and the whole Substance of it. And how all things particular in respect of these are for their sub­stance, as one of the least seedes that is, [or, as the seede that is in a Figge:] and for their duration, as the turning of the pestle in the Morter once about. Then to six thy minde upon every particular object of the World, and to conceive it, (as it is indeede,) as already being in the state of dissolution, and of change; tending to some kinde of either putrifacti­on or dispersion; or whatsoever else it is, that is the death as it were of every thing in his owne kinde.

XX. Consider them through all actions and occu­pations, of their lives: as when they eate, and when they sleepe: when they are in the act of necessary exoneration, and when in the act of lust. Againe, when they either are in their greatest exultation; and in the middle of all their pompe and glory; or being angry and displeased, in great state and ma­jestie, as from an higher place, they chide and re­buke. How base, and slavish, but a little while agoe, they were faine to be, that they might come to this; and within a very little while what will bee their estate, [when death hath once seized upon them.]

XXI. That is best for every one, that the common Nature of all doth send unto every one, and then is it best, when she doth send it.

XXII. The Earth [saith the Poet] doth often long af­ter the raine. So is the glorious skie often as desirous to fall upon the Earth, which argues a mutuall kinde of love betweene them. And so [say I] doth the world beare a certaine affection of love to whatsoever shal come to passe. With thine affections shall mine concurre, O World. The same (and no other,) shall the ob­ject of my longing be, which is of thine. Now that the World doth love as it is true indeede, so is it as commonly said, and acknowledged, when [accor­ding to the Greeke phrase, imitated by the Latines, of things that use to be,] wee say commonly, that they love to be.

XXIII. Either thou doest continue in this kinde of life, and that is it, which so long thou hast beene used unto [and therefore tolerable:] or thou doest re­tire [or, leave the World] and that of thine owne ac­cord, [and then thou hast thy minde:] or thy life is cut off, and then [mayest thou rejoyce that] thou hast ended thy charge. One of these must needes be. Be therefore of good comfort.

XXIV. Let it alwayes appeare, See B. IV N. III. and be manifest unto thee, that solitarinesse, and desart place, [by many Philosophers, so much esteemed of, and affected,] are of themselves but thus and thus; and that all things are here [to them that live in Townes, and con­verse with others:] as they are [the same nature every where to be seene and observed:] to them that have retired themselves to the top of mountaines, and to [Page 172]desart Havens, or what other [desart and inhabited] places soever. For any where [if thou wilt] mayest thou quickly finde and apply that to thy selfe, which Plato saith [of his Philosopher,] in a place; [as pri­vate and retired] saith hee, [as if hee were] shut up and enclosed about in some Shepherds lane, on the top of a hill. There by thy selfe to put these questions to thy selfe [or, to enter into these considerations:] What is my chiefe and principall part, which hath power over the rest? What is now the present estate of it, as I use it: and what is it, that I employ it about? Is it now voyde of reason or no? Is it free, and separated; or so af­fixed, so congealed and growne together, as it were with the flesh, that it is swayed by the motions and inclinations of it?

XXV. Hee that runnes away from his Master, is a fugitive. But the law is every mans Master. Hee therefore that forsakes the Law, is a fugitive. So is hee, whosoever he be, that is either sorry, angry, or afraid, or for any thing that either hath beene, is, or shall be by his appointment, who is the Lord and Governour of the Universe. For hee truly and properly is [...] [or, the Law] as the onely [...] [or, distributer and dispenser:] of all things that happen unto any one in his life time. Whosoever then is either sorry, angry, or afraid is a fugitive.

XXVI. From man is the seede, that once cast into the wombe, man hath no more to doe with it. An­other Cause succeedeth, and undertakes the Worke, and in time brings a Child (that wonderfull effect from such a beginning!) to perfection. Againe, Man lets food downe through his throat; and that [Page 173]once downe, hee hath no more to doe with it. An­other Cause succeedeth and distributeth this foode into the Senses, and the affections: into life and in­to strength; and doth with it those other many and marvailous things, that belong unto man. These things therefore that are so secretly, and invisible wrought and brought to passe, thou must use to be­hold and contemplate; and not the things them­selves onely, but the power also by which they are effected; that thou mayst behold it, though not with the eyes of the body, yet as plainly and visi­bly as thou canst see and discerne the [outward] ef­ficient cause of the depression and elevation of any thing.

XXVII. Ever to mind and consider with thy selfe, how all things that now are, have beene heretofore much after the same sort, and after the same fashion that now they are: and so to thinke of those things which shall bee hereafter also. Moreover, whole dramata, and uniforme scenes, [or, scenes that com­prehend the lives and actions of men of one calling and profession:] as many as either in thine owne experi­ence thou hast knowne, or by reading of ancient hi­stories; (as the whole Court of Adrianus, the whole Court of Antoninus Pius, the whole Court of Phi­lippus, that of Alexander, that of Craesus:) to set them all before thine eyes. For thou shalt finde that they are all but after one sort and fashion: [or, all of the same kinde and nature:] only that the actors were others.

XXVIII. As a pigge that cryes and flings when his throat is cut, phancie to thy selfe every one to bee, [Page 174]that grieves [for any wordly thing] and takes on. Such a one is he also, who upon his bed alone, doth bewaile the miseries of this our mortall life. And remember this, that unto reasonable creatures only it is granted that they may willingly and freely sub­mit unto Providence: but absolutely to submit, is a necessity imposed upon all creatures equally.

XXIX. Whatsoever it is that thou goest about, consider of it by thy selfe, and aske thy selfe, What? because I shall doe this no more when I am dead, should therefore death seeme grievous unto me?

XXX. When thou art offended with any mans transgression, presently reflect upon thy selfe, and consider what thou thy selfe art guiltie of in the same kinde. As that thou also perchance dost think it a happinesse either to be rich, or to live in plea­sure, or to be praised and commended, and so of the rest in particular. For this if thou shalt call to mind, thou shalt soone forget thine anger: especially when at the same time this also shall concurre in thy thoughts, that he was constrained [by his error and ignorance] so to doe: For how can he choose [as long as he is of that opinion?] Doe thou therefore if thou canst, take away that from him, that forceth him to doe as he doth.

XXXI. When thou seest Satyro, thinke of Socra­ticus, & Eutyches, or Hymen, and when Euphrates, thinke of Eutychio, and Sylvanus, when Alciphron, of Tropaeophorus, when Xenophon, of Crito, or Severus. And when thou doest looke upon thy self, phancie unto thy selfe some one or other of the Cae­sars; and so for every one, some one or other that [Page 175]hath beene for estate and profession answerable un­to him. Then let this come to thy minde at the same time; And where now are they all? No where or any where? For so shalt thou at all times be able to perceive how all worldly things are but as the smoake, [that vanisheth away:] or, indeed, meere nothing. Especially when thou shalt call to minde this also, that whatsoever is once changed, shall ne­ver be againe as long as the world endureth. And thou then, how long shalt thou endure? And why doth it not suffice thee, if vertuously, and as becom­meth thee, thou mayest passe that portion of time, how little soever it be, that is allotted unto thee?

XXXII. What a subject, and what a course of life is it, that thou doest so much desire to be rid of. For all these things, what are they, but fit objects for an understanding, that beholdeth every thing accor­ding to its true nature, to exercise it selfe upon? Be patient therefore, untill that (as a strong stomach that turnes all things into his owne nature; and as a great fire that turneth in flame and light, whatso­ever thou doest cast into it:) thou have made these things also familiar, and as it were naturall unto thee.

XXXIII. Let it not be in any mans power, to say truly of thee, that thou art not truly simple, [or, syncere and open,] or not good. Let him be deceived whosoever he be that shall have any such opinion of thee. For all this doth depend of thee. For who is it that should hinder thee from being either truly simple or good? Doe thou only resolve rather not to live, then not to bee such. For indeed neither [Page 176]doth it stand with reason that he should live that is not such. What [then] is it that may upon this pre­sent occasion according to best reason and discreti­on, either he said or done? For whatsoever it bee, it is in thy power either to doe it, or to say it, and therefore seeke not any pretences, as though thou wert hindered. Thou wilt never cease groaning and complaining, untill such time as that, what pleasure is unto the voluptuous, be unto thee, to doe in eve­ry thing that presents it selfe, whatsoever may bee done conformably and agreeably to the proper con­stitution of man, [or, to man as he is a man.] For thou must account that pleasure, whatsoever it bee, that thou mayest doe according to thine owne Na­ture. And to doe this, every place will fit thee. Un­to the Cylindrus [or, roller] it is not granted to move every where according to its owne proper motion, as neither unto the water, nor unto the fire, nor un­to any other thing, that either is meerly naturall, or naturall and sensitive, but not rationall. For many things there be that can hinder their operations. But of the minde and understanding this is the proper priviledge, that according to its owne nature, and as it will it selfe, it can passe through every obstacle that it findes, and keepe straight on forwards. Set­ting therefore before thine eyes this happinesse and felicity of thy minde, whereby it is able to passe through all things [and is capable of all motions, whe­ther] as the fire, upwards; or as the stone downe­wards, or as the Cylindrus through that which is slo­ping: [or, through a declivitie:] content thy selfe with it, and seeke not after any other thing. For all [Page 177]other kinde of hinderances [that are not hinderances of thy minde] either they are proper to the body, or meerly proceed from the opinion, Reason not ma­king that resistance that it should, but basely, and cowardly suffering it selfe to be foiled; and of them­selves can neither wound, nor doe any hurt at all. Else must hee of necessitie, whosoever hee bee that meets with any of them, become worse then he was before. For so is it in all other subjects, that that is thought hurtfull unto them, wherby they are made worse. But here contrariwise, man (if he make that good use of them that he should) is rather the better and the more praise worthy for any of those kinde of hinderances, then otherwise. But generally re­member that nothing can hurt a naturall Citizen, that is not hurtfull unto the Citie it selfe, nor any thing hurt the City, that is not hurtfull unto the Law it selfe. But none of these casualties, or exter­nall hinderances, doe hurt the Law it selfe; [or, are contrarie to that course of Iustice, and equitie, by which publick societies are maintained:] neither therefore doe they hurt either Citie or Citizen.

XXXIV. [As he that is bitten by a mad dog, is affraid of every thing almost that he seeth: so] unto him, whom the Dogmata have once bitten [or, in whom true knowledge hath made an impression] every thing almost [that he sees or reades] be it never so short or ordinarie, doth afford a good memento; to put him out of all griefe and feare, as that of the Poet, The windes blow upon the trees, and their leaves fall upon the ground. Then doe the trees beginne to budde againe, and by the spring time they put forth new branches. So is [Page 178]the generation of men; some come into the world, and o­thers goe out of it. Of these leaves then thy Children are. And they also that applaud thee so gravely, [or, that applaud thy speeches, with that their usuall acclama­tion, [...], or, O wisely spoken!] and speake well of thee, as on the other side, they that stick not to curse thee, they that privately and secretly dispraise and deride thee, they also are but leaves. And they also that shall follow, in whose memories the names of men famous after death, is preserved, they are but leaves neither. For even so is it of all these [worldly] things. Their Spring comes, and they are put forth. Then blowes the winde, and they goe downe. And then in lieu of them grow others out of the wood [or, common matter of all things:] like unto them. But, to endure but for a while, is common unto all. Why then shouldest thou so [earnestly] ei­ther seeke after these things, or fly from them, as though they should endure for ever? Yet a little while, and thine eyes will be closed up, and for him that caries thee to thy grave shall another mourne within a while after.

XXXV. A good eye must be good to see whatsoe­ver is to be seene, and not greene things only. For that is proper to sore eyes. So must a good eare, and a good smell be ready for whatsoever is either to be heard, or smelt: and a good stomach as indif­ferent to all kindes of food, as a milstone, to what­soever shee was made for, to grinde. As ready there­fore must a sound understanding be for whatsoever shall happen. But he that saith, O that my Children might live! and, O that all men might commend mee for [Page 179]whatsoever I doe! is an eye that seekes after greene things; or as teeth, after that which is tender.

XXXVI. There is not any man that is so happy in his death, but that some of those that are by him when he dies, will be ready to rejoyce at his [suppo­sed] calamitie. Is it one that was vertuous and wise indeed? Will there not some one or other be found, who thus will say to himselfe, Well now at last shall I bee at rest from this Pedagogue. Hee did not indeed o­therwise trouble us much: but I know well enough that in his heart, hee did much condemne us. Thus will they speake of the vertuous. But as for us, alas! how ma­ny things be there, for which there bee many that glad would be to be rid of us. This therefore if thou shalt thinke of whensoever thou dyest, thou shalt die the more willingly, when thou shalt thinke with thy selfe, I am now to depart from that world, wherein those that have beene my neerest friends and acquaintances, they whom I have so much suf­fered for, so often prayed for, and for whom I have taken such care; even they would have me die, ho­ping that after my death they shall live happier, then they did before. What then should any man desire to continue here any longer? Neverthelesse, when­soever thou dyest, thou must not be lesse kinde and loving unto them for it; but as before, see them, continue to be their friend, to wish them well, and meekly, and gently to cary thy selfe towards them, but yet so that on the other side, it make thee not the more unwilling to die. But as it fareth with thē that die an easie quick death, whose soule is soon separa­ted frō their bodies, so must thy separation frō them [Page 180]be. To these had nature joyned and annexed mee: now shee parts us; I am ready to depart, as from friends and kinsmen, but yet without either relu­ctancie, or compulsion. For this also is according to Nature.

XXXVII. Use thy selfe, as often, as thou seest any man doe any thing, presently (if it bee possible) to say unto thy selfe, what is this mans end in this his action? But begin this course with thy selfe first of all, and diligently examine thy selfe [concerning what­soever thou doest.]

XXXVIII. Remember, that that which sets a man at worke, and hath power over the affections to draw them either one way, or the other way, is [not any externall thing properly but] that which is hidden within [every mans dogmata, and opinions:] That, that is Rhetorick; that is life; that (to speake true) is man himselfe. As for [thy body,] which as a vessel, [or, a case:] compasseth thee about, and the many and curious instruments that it hath annexed unto it, let them not trouble thy thoughts. For of them­selves they are but as a carpenters axe; but that they are borne with us, and naturally sticking unto us. But otherwise, without the inward cause that hath power to moove them, and to restraine them, those parts are of themselves of no more use unto us, then the shuttle is of it selfe to the weaver, or the pen to the writer, or the whip to the coach-man.

THE ELEVENTH BOOKE.

THE naturall properties, and priviledges of a reasonable soule are; That she seeth her selfe; that she can order, and com­pose her selfe: that shee makes her selfe as she will her selfe: that shee reapes her owne fruits whatsoever, whereas plants, trees, unreasonable creatures, what fruit soeuer (be it either fruit pro­perly, or analogically only;) they beare, they beare them unto others, and not to themselves. Againe; Whensoever, and wheresoever [sooner, or later] her life doth end, shee hath her owne end neverthelesse. For it is not with her, as with dancers, and players, who if they be interrupted in any part of their acti­on, the whole action must needes be imperfect: but shee in what part, of time, or action soever, shee be surprised, can make that which she hath in her hand whatsoever it be, compleat and full, so that she may depart with that comfort, I have lived; neither want I any thing of that which properly did belong unto mee. Againe, she compasseth the whole world, and pene­trateth into the Vanity, and meere outside (wanting substance and solidity) of it, and stretcheth her selfe unto the infinitnesse of eternity; and the revolution [or, restauration] of all things after a certaine period of [Page 182]time, to the same state and place as before, shee fetcheth about, and doth comprehend in her selfe; and considers withall, and sees clearely this, that neither they that shall follow us, shall see any new thing, that wee have not seene, nor they that went before, any thing more then wee: but that hee that is once come to forty (if he have any wit at all) can in a manner (for that they are all of one kind) see all things, both pas­sed, and future. As proper is it, and naturall to the soule of man to love her neighbour, to be true and modest; and to regard nothing so much as her selfe: which is also the property of the Law: whereby [by the way] it appeares, that sound reason and justice comes all to one, and therefore that justice is the chiefe thing, that reasonable creatures ought to propose unto themselves as their end.]

II. A pleasant song or dance; the Pancratiastes exercise, See B. xii N. VI. [sports that thou art wont to be much taken with,] thou shalt easily contemne, if the harmonious voyce thou shalt divide into so many particular sounds whereof it doth consist, and of every one in particular shall aske thy selfe, whether this or that sound is it, that doth so conquer thee. For thou wilt be ashamed of it. And so for shame, if accor­dingly thou shalt consider it, every particular motion and posture by it selfe: and so for the wrestlers ex­ercise too. Generally then, whatsoever it be, besides vertue, and those things that proceed from vertue [that thou art subject to be much affected with] remem­ber presently thus to divide it, & by this kind of di­vision, in each particular to attain unto the contēpt of the Whole. This thou must transfer and apply to thy whole life also.

III. That soule which is ever ready, even now presently (if neede be) from the body, whether by way of Extinction, or Dispersion, or Continuation [in another place & estate] to be separated, Gr: [...]. See the Notes. how blessed, and happy is it? But this readinesse of it, it must pro­ceed, not from an obstinate and peremptory resolution of the mind, violently and passionatly set upon opposition, (as Christians are wont;) but frō a peculiar iudgement; with discretion and gravity, so that others may be perswaded also & drawne to the like example, but without any noyse and passionate exclamations.

IV. Have I done any thing charitably? then am I benefitted by it. See that this upon all occasions may present it selfe unto thy mind, and never cease to thinke of it. What is thy profession? to be good. And how should this bee well brought to passe, but by certaine Theorems and doctrines; Some con­cerning the Nature of the Universe, and some con­cerning the proper and particular constitution of man [or, by the true and Theoremeticall knowledge both of the nature of the Vniverse, &c.

V. Tragedies were at first brought in, and insti­tuted, to put men in minde of worldly chances and casualties: That these things in the ordinary course of nature did so happen: That men that were much pleased and delighted by such accidents upon this stage, would not by the same things in a greater stage bee grieved and afflicted: For here you see what is the end of all such things; and that even they that cry out so mournfully to Cithairon, must beare them [for all their cries and exclamations,] as well as others. And in very truth many good things [Page 184]are spoken by these Poets; as that (for example) is an excellent passage: But if so be that I and my two children be neglected by the Gods, they have some reason even for that, &c. And againe, It will but little availe thee to storme & rage against the things themselves, &c. Againe, To reape ones life, as a ripe eare of corne; and whatsoever else is to bee found in them, that is of the same kinde. After the Tragedie, the Comoedia vetus, or ancient Comoedie was brought in, which had the [...]. liberty to enveigh against personall vices; be­ing therefore through this her freedome and liber­tie of speech of very good use and effect, to restraine men from pride and arrogancie. To which end it was, that Diogenes tooke also the same liberty. After these, what were either the Media, or Nova Comoedia admitted for, but meerely, (or for the most part at least) for the delight and pleasure of curious and excellent imitation? It will steale away; looke to it, &c. Why, no man denies, but that these also have some good things [whereof that may be one:] But the whole drift and foundation of that kinde of Dramaticall Poetry, what is it else, but as wee have said?

VI. How clearely doth it appeare unto thee, that no other course of thy life could fit a true Philoso­phers practise better, then this very course, that thou art now already in?

VII. A branch cut off from the continuitie of that which was next unto it, must needs be cut off from the whole tree: so a man that is divided from an­other man, is divided from the whole Society. A branch is cut off by another, but hee that hates and [Page 185]is averse, cuts himselfe off from his neighbour, and knowes not that at the same time hee divides him­selfe from the whole bodie, [or, corporation.] But herein is the gift and mercie of God, the Author of this society, in that, [once cut off] wee may grow together and become part of the Whole againe. But if this happen often [the miserie is that] the fur­ther a man is runne in this division, the harder he is to be reunited and restored againe: and however, the branch which, once cut off, afterwards was graf­fed in, gardners can tell you is not like that which sprouted together at first, and still continued in the unity of the body.

VIII. To grow together like fellow branches [in mat­ter of good correspondence and affection;] but not in matter of opinions. They that shall oppose thee in thy right courses, as it is not in their power to di­vert thee from thy good action, so neither let it bee to divert thee from thy good affection towards them. But be it thy care to keepe thy selfe constant in both; both in a right judgement and action, and in true meekenesse towards them, that either shall doe their endeavour to hinder thee, or at least will be displeased with thee [for what thou hast done.] For to faile in either (either in the one to give over for feare, or in the other to forsake thy naturall affecti­on towards him, who by nature is both thy friend and thy kinsman:) is equally base, and much savou­ring of the disposition of a cowardly fugitive soul­dier.

IX. It is not possible that any nature should bee inferiour unto art, since that all arts imitate nature. [Page 186]If this be so; that the most perfect and generall na­ture of all natures should [in her operation] come short of the skill of arts, is most improbable. Now common is it to all arts, to make that which is worse for the betters sake. Much more then doth the common Nature doe the same. Hence is the first ground of Justice. From Justice all other vertues have their existence. For Justice cannot be preser­ved, if either wee settle our mindes and affections upon worldly things; or be apt to be deceived, or rash, and inconstant.

X. The things themselves (which either to get or to avoid thou art put to so much trouble:) come not unto thee themselves; but thou in a manner goest unto them. Let then thine owne judgement and opinion concerning those thing be at rest; and as for the things themselves, they stand still and quiet, without any noyse or stirre at all; and so shall all pursuing and flying cease.

XI. Then is the Soule [as Empedocles doth liken it] like unto a Sphere, or, Globe, when shee is all of one forme and figure: When shee neither [greedily] stretcheth out her selfe unto any thing, nor [basely] contracts her selfe, or lies flat and dejected; but shi­neth all with light, whereby shee does see and be­hold the true nature, both that of the Universe, and her owne in particular.

XII. Will any contemne me? let him looke to that, [upon what grounds he does it,] my care shall be that I may never be found either doing, or speaking any thing that doth truly deserve contempt. Will any hate me? let him looke to that. I for my part [Page 187]will be kinde and loving unto all, and even unto him that hates me [whōsoever he be] will I be ready to shew his error, not by way of exprobration, or o­stentation of my patience, but ingenuously and meekly: such as was that famous Phocion, if so bee that he did not dissemble. For it is inwardly that these things must be: that the gods [who look inward­ly, and not upon the outward appearance,] may behold a man truly free from all indignation and griefe. For what hurt can it be unto thee [whatsoever any man else doth] as long as thou mayest doe that which is proper and sutable to thine owne nature? Wilt not thou (a man wholly appointed to be both what, and as the common good shall require:) accept of that which is now seasonable to the nature of the Uni­verse?

XIII. They contemne one another, and yet they seeke to please one another: and whilest they seeke to surpasse one another [in worldly pompe and great­nesse:] they most debase and prostitute themselves [in their better part] one to another.

XIV. How rotten and unsincere is he, that saith, I am resolved to cary my selfe hereafter towards you with all ingenuitie, and simplicitie. O man, what doest thou meane! what needs this profession of thine? the thing it selfe will shew it. It ought to be written upon thy forehead, No sooner thy voyce is heard, then thy countenance must bee able to shew what is in thy mind: even as he that is loved knowes presently by the lookes of his sweet-heart what is in her minde. Such must he be for all the world, that is truly simple and good, as hee whose arme holes [Page 188]are offensive, that whosoever stands by, as soone as ever he comes neere him, may as it were smell him whether he will or no. But the affectation of simpli­citie, is nowise laudable. There is nothing more shamefull then perfidious friendship. Above all things, that must be avoided. [However] true good­nesse simplicitie and kindnesse cannot so be hidden, but that [as wee have already said] in the very eyes and countenance they will shew themselves.

XV. To live happily is an inward power of the soule, when shee is affected with indifferencie [or, indifferently affected] towards those things that are by their nature indifferent. To be thus affected she must consider all worldly objects both divided and whole: remembring withall that no object can of it selfe beget any opinion in us, neither can come to us, but stands without still and quiet; but that we our selves beget, and as it were print in our selves opinions concerning them. Now it is in our pow­er, not to print them; and [if they creepe in] and lurk in some corner, it is in our power to wipe them off. Remembring moreover, that this care and circum­spection of thine, is to continue but for a while, and then thy life will be at an end. And what should hin­der, but that thou mayest doe well with all these things? For if they be according to nature, rejoyce in them, and let them bee pleasing and acceptable unto thee. But if they be against Nature, seek thou that which is according to thine owne Nature, and whether it be for thy credit or no, use all possible speed [for the attainment of it:] for no man ought to be blamed, for seeking his owne good and hap­pinesse.

XVI. Of every thing [thou must consider] from whence it came, of what things it doth consist, & in­to what it wil be changed: what wil be the nature of it [or, what it will be like unto] when it is changed; and that it can suffer no hurt by this change. [And as for other mens, either foolishnesse, or wickednesse, that it may not trouble and grieve thee;] First generally thus; What reference have I unto these? and that we are all borne for one anothers good: Then [more particularly] after another consideration; as a Ram is first in a flock of Sheepe, and a Bull in a Heard of cattell, so am I borne to rule over them. Begin yet higher, even from this: if Atomes be not the be­ginning of all things [then which to beleeve nothing can be more absurd] then must wee needes grant that there is a Nature, that doth governe the Universe. If such a Nature, then are all worse things made for the betters sake; & all better for one anothers sake. Secondly, what māner of men they be, at board, and upon their beds, and so forth. But above all things, how they are forced by their opinions that they hold, to doe what they doe; and even those things that they doe, with what pride and selfe-conceit they doe them. Thirdly, that if they doe these things rightly, thou hast no reason to be grieved. But if not rightly, it must needes be that they doe them against their wills, and through meere igno­rance. For as [according to Platoes opinion] no soule doth willingly erre, so by consequent neither doth it any thing otherwise then it ought, but against her will. Therefore are they grieved, whensoever they heare themselves charged, either of unjustice, [Page 190]or unconscionablenesse, or covetousnesse, or in ge­nerall, of any injurious kinde of dealing towards their neighbours. Fourthly, that thou thy selfe doest transgresse in many things, and art even such another as they are. And though perchance thou doest forbeare the very act of some sinnes, yet hast thou in thy selfe an habituall disposition to them, but that either through feare, or vaine glory, or some such other ambitious foolish respect, thou art re­strained. Fiftly, that whether they have sinned or no, thou doest not understand perfectly. For many things are done by way of discreet policie; and ge­nerally a man must know many things first, before he be able truly and judiciously to judge of another mans action. Sixtly, that whensoever thou doest take on grievously, or makest great woe, [little [...]est thou remember then] that a mans life, is but for a mo­ment of time, and that within a while wee shall all bee in our graves. Seaventhly, That it is not the sinnes and transgressions themselves that trouble us properly; for they have their existence in their mindes and understandings onely, [that commit them;] but our owne opinions concerning those sinnes. Remove then, and bee content to part with that conceit of thine, that it is a grievous thing, and thou hast removed thine anger. But how should I remove it? [How?] reasoning with thy selfe that it is not shamefull. For if that which is shamefull, be not the onely true evill that is, thou also wilt be driven [whilest thou doest follow the common instinct of Nature, See B. [...]II to avoyde that which is evill,] to commit ma­ny unjust things, and to become a thiefe, and any [Page 191]thing, [that will make to the attainement of thy intended worldly ends.] Eightly, How many things may and doe oftentimes follow upon such fits of anger and griefe; farre more grievous in themselves, then those very things which we are so grieved or angry for. Ninthly, That meekenesse is a thing uncon­querable, if it be true and naturall, and not affected, or hypocriticall. For how shall even the most fierce and malicious that thou shalt conceive, be able to hold on against thee, if thou shalt still continue meeke and loving unto him; and that even at that time, when hee is about to doe thee wrong, thou shalt be well disposed, and in good temper, with all meekenesse to teach him, and to instruct him bet­ter? As for example; My sonne, wee were not borne for this, to hurt and annoy one another; It will be thy hurt not mine, my sonne: and so to shew him forcibly and fully, that it is so in very deede: and that nei­ther Bees doe it one to another, nor any other crea­tures that are naturally sociable. But this thou must doe, not scoffingly, nor by way of exprobration, but tenderly without any harshnesse of words. Neither must thou doe it by way of exercise, or ostentation, that they that are by and heare thee, may admire thee: but so alwayes that no body be privie to it, but himselfe alone: yea, though there be more pre­sent at the same time. These nine particular heads, as so many gifts from the Muses, see that thou re­member well: and begin one day, whilest thou art yet alive, to bee a man indeede. But on the other side thou must take heede, as much to flatter them, as to be angry with them: for both are equally [Page 192]uncharitable, and equally hurtfull. And in thy pas­sions, take it presently to thy consideration, that to be angry, is not the part of a man, but that to bee meeke and gentle, as it savours of more humanity, so of more manhood. That in this, there is strength and nerves [or, vigour] and fortitude; whereof an­ger and indignation is altogether voyde. For the neerer every thing is unto unpassionatnesse, the nee­rer it is unto power. And as griefe doth proceede from weakenesse, so doth anger. For both [both hee that is angry & that grieveth] have received a wound, and cowardly have as it were yeelded themselves [unto their affections.] If thou wilt have a Tenth al­so, receive this Tenth gift from [Hercules] the Guide and Leader of the Muses: That it is a mad mans part, to looke that there should be no wicked men in the World, because it is impossible. Now for a man to brooke well enough, that there should be wicked men in the World, but not to endure that any should transgresse against himselfe, is against all equity, and indeede tyrannicall.

XVII Foure severall dispositions, [or, inclinations] there be of the minde and understanding, which to be aware of, thou must carefully observe: and when­soever thou doest discover them, thou must rectifie them, saying to thy selfe concerning every one of them, This imagination is not necessary; This is uncharitable: This thou shalt speake as another mans slave, or instrument; then which nothing can be more senselesse and absurd: For the Fourth, thou shalt sharply check and upbraid thy selfe, for that thou doest suffer that more divine part in thee, [Page 193]to become subject and obnoxious to that more ig­noble part of thy body, and the grosse lusts and con­cupiscences thereof.

XVIII. What portion soever, either of aire, or fire there be in thee, although by nature it tend up­wards, submitting neverthelesse to the ordinance of the Universe, it abides here below in this mixt bo­dy. So whatsoever is in thee, either earthy, or hu­mid, although by nature it tend downwards, yet is it against its nature both raised upwards, and stan­ding [or, consistent,] So obedient are even the ele­ments themselves to the Universe, abiding patient­ly wheresoever (though against their Nature) they are placed, untill the sound as it were of their re­treate, and separation. Is it not a grievous thing then, that thy reasonable part only should be diso­bedient, and should not endure to keepe its place: yea though it be nothing enjoyned that is contrary unto it, but that only which is according to its na­ture? For [wee cannot say of it when it is disobedient, as wee say of the fire, or aire,] that it tends upwards to­wards its proper Element, for then goes it the quite contrary way. [or, For wee cannot say of it, as of the Elements, that it suffers against its owne nature to be obe­dient: but rather when disobedient, then goes it a quite contrary course, to that which is naturall unto it.] For the motion of the minde to any injustice, or incon­tinencie, or to sorrow, or to feare, is nothing else but a separation from nature. Also when the minde is grieved for any thing that is happened [by the di­vine Providence] then doth it likewise forsake its owne place. See B. XII. I. For it was ordained unto holinesse and [Page 194]godlines, [which specially consist in anhumble submission to God and his Providence in all things;] as well as un­to Justice: these also being part of those duties, which as naturally sociable, wee are bound unto; and without which wee cannot happily converse one with another [or, without which common societies cannot prosper:] yea and the very ground, and foun­taine indeed of all just actions.

XIX. He that hath not one and the selfe same ge­nerall end alwayes as long as he liveth, cannot possi­bly be one and the selfe same man alwayes. But this will not suffice except thou adde also what ought to be this generall end. For as the generall conceit and apprehension of all those things which upon no certaine ground are by the greater part of men deemed good, cannot be uniforme and agree­able, but that only which is limited, and restrained by some certaine proprieties and conditions, as of communitie: [that nothing be conceived good, which is not commonly, and publickly good:] so must the end also that wee propose unto our selves, bee common and sociable. For he that doth direct all his owne private motions and purposes to that end, all his a­ctions will be agreeable and uniforme; and by that meanes will be still the same man.

XX. Remember the fable of the countrey mouse, and the citie mouse, and the great fright and terror that this was put into.

XXI. Socrates was wont to call the common con­ceits and opinions of men, the common Lamiae, or bugbeares of the world: the proper terrour of silly children.

XXII. The Lacedemonians at their publick specta­cula, were wont to appoint seates and formes for their strangers in the shadow; they themselves were content to set any where.

XXIII. What Socrates answered unto Perdicas, why he did not come unto him, Least of all deathes I should die the worst kinde of death, said he: that is, not able to requite the good that hath beene done unto mee.

XXIV. In the ancient mysticall letters of the E­phesians, [commonly called Ephesiae litterae] there was an Item, that a man should alwayes have in his minde some one or other of the Ancient Worthies.

XXV. The Pythagoraeans were wont betimes in the morning the first thing they did, to looke up un­to the heavens, to put themselves in minde of them who constantly, and unvariably did performe their taske: as also to put themselves in minde of order­linesse [or, good order] and of puritie, and of naked simplicity. For no starre or planet hath any cover before it.

XXVI. How Socrates looked, when hee was faine to gird himselfe with a skinne, Xantippe his wife having taken away his clothes, and caried them a­broad with her, and what he said to his fellowes and friends, who were ashamed; and out of respect to him, did retire themselves when they saw him thus decked.

XXVII. In matter of writing or reading thou must needs be taught before thou can doe either: much more in matter of life. For thou art borne a meere slave, [to thy senses and brutish affections;] de­stitute [without teaching] of all true knowledge and sound reason.

XXVIII. My heart smiled within me. They will ac­cuse even vertue her selfe, with most hainous, and oppro­brious words.

XXIX. As they that long after figges in winter [when they cannot be had;] so are they that long after children, before they be granted them.

XXX. As often as a Father kisseth his Child, Hee should say secretly with himselfe (said Epictetus,) To morrow perchance shall be die. But these words bee o­minous. No words ominous (said he) that signifie any thing that is naturall: In very truth and deed not more ominous then this, To cut downe grapes when they are ripe. Greene grapes, ripe grapes, dried grapes [or, raisons:] so many changes and mutati­ons of one thing, not into that which was not abso­lutely [or, into so many severall substances:] but ra­ther so many successions of time in one and the selfe same subject, and substance. [or, so many severall changes and mutations, not into that which hath no being at all, but into that which is not yet in being.]

XXXI. Of the free will there is no thiefe or robber: out of Epictetus; Whose is this also: That wee should finde a certaine art and method of assenting; and that we should alwayes observe with great care and heed the inclinations of our mindes, that they may alwayes be with their due restraint and reser­vation, alwayes charitable, and according to the true worth of every present object. And as for ear­nest longing, that wee should altogether avoide it: and to use aversenesse in those things onely, that wholly depend of our owne wills. It is not about or­dinarie petty matters, beleeve it, that all our strife and [Page 197]contention is, but whether [with the vulgar] wee should be mad, or [by the helpe of Philosophie] wise and sober, said he.

XXXII. Socrates said, What will you have? the soules of reasonable, or unreasonable creatures? Of reasonable. But what? Of those whose reason is sound and perfect? or of those whose reason is vitiated and corrupted? Of those whose reason is sound and perfect. Why then labour yee not for such? Because we have them already. What then doe yee so strive and contend betweene you?

THE TWELFTH BOOKE.

WHatsoever thou doest hereafter adspire unto, thou mayest even now enjoy and possesse, if thou doest not envie thy selfe thine owne happinesse. And that will bee, if thou shalt forget all that is past, and for the future, referre thy selfe wholy to the divine providence, and shalt bend and apply all thy present thoughts and intentions, to holinesse and righteousnesse. To holinesse, in accepting wil­lingly whatsoever is sent by the divine providence, as being that which the nature of the Universe hath appointed unto thee, which also hath appointed thee for that, whatsoever it be. To righteousnesse in speaking the Truth freely, & without ambiguity; [Page 198]and in doing all things justly and discreetly. Now in this good course, let not other mens either wic­kednesse, or opinion, or voyce hinder thee: no, nor the sense of this thy pamperd masse of flesh: for let that that suffers, looke to it selfe. If therefore whensoever the time of thy departing shall come, thou shalt readily leave all things, and shalt respect thy minde onely, and that divine part of thine, and this shall be thine onely feare, not that some time or other, thou shalt cease to live, but that thou shalt never live to live according to Nature: then shalt thou be a man indeede, worthy of that world, from which thou hadst thy beginning; then shalt thou cease to be a stranger in thy Country, & to wonder at those things that happen dayly, as things strange and unexpected, and anxiously to depend of divers things [that art not in thy power.]

II. God beholds our mindes and understandings, bare and naked from these materiall vessels, and out­sides, and all earthly drosse. For with his simple and pure understanding, hee pierceth into our in­most and purest parts, which from His, as it were by a water pipe and chanell, first flowed and issued. This if thou also shalt use to doe, thou shalt rid thy selfe of that manifold luggage, wherewith thou art round about encumbred. For hee that does regard neither his body, nor his cloathing, nor his dwel­ling, nor any such externall furniture, must needes gaine unto himselfe great rest and ease. Three things there be in all, which thou doest consist of; thy body, thy life, and thy minde. Of these the two former, are so farre forth thine, as that thou art [Page 199]bound to take care for them. But the third alone is that which is properly thine: from which (thy minde I meane:) if thou shalt sequester, and sepa­rate whatsoever other men either doe or say, or whatsoever thou thy selfe hast heretofore either done or said; & all troublesom thoughts concerning the future, and whatsoever, (as either belonging to the body or life:) is without the jurisdiction of thine owne will, and whatsoever in the ordinarie course of humane chances and accidents doth hap­pen unto thee; so that thy minde (keeping her selfe loose and free from all outward coincidentall in­tanglements; alwayes in a readinesse to depart:) shall live by her selfe, and to her selfe, doing that which is just; accepting whatsoever doth happen, and speaking the truth alwayes; If I say thou shalt separate from thy minde, whatsoever by sympathie might adhaere unto it, and all time both past and fu­ture, and shalt make thy selfe in all points and re­spects, like unto Empedocles his [allegorical] Sphaere, all round and circular, &c. and shalt thinke of no lon­ger life, then that which is now present: Then shalt thou bee truly able to passe the remainder of thy dayes without troubles and distractions; nobly and generously disposed, and in good favour and corre­spondencie, with that Spirit which is within thee.

III. I have often wonderd, how it should come to passe, that every man loving himselfe best, should more regard other mens opinions concerning him­self [...], then his owne. For if any God or grave Ma­ster standing by, should command any of us to think nothing by himselfe, but what hee should presently [Page 200]speake out; no man were able to endure it, though but for one day. Thus doe wee feare more what our neighbours will think of us, then what wee our selves.

IV. How comes it to passe, that the Gods having ordered all other things so well and so lovingly, should bee overseene in this one onely thing, that whereas there have beene some very good men, that have made many covenants as it were with God, and by many holy actions, and outward services contracted a kinde of familiarity with Him; that these men when once they are dead, should never be no more [or, should never rise againe,] but be ex­tinct for ever. But this thou mayest be sure of, that this (if it be so indeede;) would never have beene so ordered by the Gods, had it beene fit otherwise. For certainly it was possible, See Note 4. upon B. II. had it beene more just so; and had it beene according to Nature, the Na­ture of the Universe would easily have borne it. But now because it is not so, (if so bee that it be not so indeed) be therefore confident that it was not fit it should bee so. For thou seest thy selfe, that now seeking after this matter, how freely thou doest ar­gue and contest with God. But were not the Gods both just and good in the highest degree, thou durst not thus reason with them. Now if just and good, it could not be that in the creation of the world, they should either unjustly, or unreasonably oversee any thing.

V. Use thy selfe even unto those things that thou doest at first despaire of. For the left hand wee see, which for the most part lyeth idle because not used; [Page 201]yet doth it hold the bridle with more strength then the right, because it hath beene used unto it.

VI. Let these be the objects of thy ordinarie me­ditation: to consider, what manner of men both for soule and body wee ought to be, whensoever death shall surprise us: The shortnesse of this our mortall life: The immense vastnesse of the time that hath beene before, and will be after us: the frailtie of every worldly materiall object: all these things to consider, and behold cleerly in themselves, all dis­guisement of externall outside being removed and taken away. Againe, to consider the efficient causes of all things: the proper ends and references of all actions: what paine is in it selfe, what pleasure, what death: what fame or honour, how every man is the true and proper ground of his owne rest and tranquillitie, and that no man can truly be hindered by any other: That all is but conceit and opinion. As for the use of thy Dogmata, thou must carry thy selfe in the practise of them, rather like unto a Pan­cratiastes, [or, one that at the same time both fights and wrastles with hands and feet, &c.] then a Gladiator. For this, if he lose his sword that he fights with, he is gone: whereas the other hath still his hand free, which he may easily turne, and manage at his will.

VII. All worldly things thou must behold and consider, dividing them into matter, forme, and re­ference, [or, their proper end.]

VIII. How happy is man in this his power [that hath beene granted unto him:] that he needs not doe any thing but what God shall approve, and that hee may imbrace contentedly, whatsoever God doth send unto him?

IX. Whatsoever doth happen in the ordinarie course and consequence of naturall events, neither the gods, (for it is not possible, that they either wit­tingly, or unwittingly should doe any thing amisse) nor men, (for it is through ignorance, and there­fore against their wills that they doe any thing a­misse:) must be accused. None then must bee ac­cused.

X. How ridiculous and strange is hee, that won­ders at any thing that happens in this life in the or­dinarie course of nature!

XI. Either Fate, (and that either an absolute ne­cessity, and unavoidable decree; or a placable and flexible Providence:) or All is a meere casuall Con­fusion, voide of all order and government. If an ab­solute and unavoidable Necessitie, why doest thou resist? If a placable and exorable Providence, make thy selfe worthy of the divine helpe and assistance. If all be a meere confusion without any Moderator, or Governour, then hast thou reason to congratu­late thy selfe, that in such a generall flood of Confu­sion, thou thy selfe hast obtained a reasonable Fa­cultie, whereby thou mayest governe thine owne life and actions. But if thou beest caried away with the flood, it must be thy body perchance, or thy life, or some other thing that belongs unto them that is caried away: thy minde and understanding cannot. Or should it be so, that the light of a candle indeed is still bright, and lightsome untill it be put out: & should Truth, and Righteousnesse, and Tem­perance cease to shine in thee whilest thou thy selfe hast any being?

XII. At the conceit and apprehension that such and such a one hath sinned [thus reason with thy selfe] What doe I know whether this be a sinne indeed, as it seemes to bee? But if it be, what doe I know but that he himselfe hath already condemned himselfe for it? And that is all one as if a man should scratch and teare his owne face, [an object of compassion ra­ther then of anger.] Againe, that hee that would not have a vicious man to sinne, is like unto him that would not have moisture in the figge, nor children to weepe, nor a horse to neigh, nor any thing else that in the course of nature is necessary. For what shall hee doe that hath such an habit? If thou there­fore beest powerfull and eloquent, remedie it if thou canst.

XIII. If it be not fitting; doe it not. If it bee not true, speake it not. Ever maintaine thine owne pur­pose and resolution free from all compulsion and necessitie.

XIV. Of every thing that presents it selfe unto thee, to consider what the true nature of it is, and to unfold it, as it were, by dividing it into that which is formall: that which is materiall: the true use or end of it, and the just time that it is appointed to last.

XV. It is high time for thee, to understand that there is somewhat in thee, better and more divine then either thy passions, or thy sensual appetites and affections. What is now the object of my minde, is it feare, or suspition, or lust, or any such thing? To doe nothing rashly without some certaine end; let that be thy first care. The next, to have no other [Page 204]end then the common good. For, alas! yet a little while, and thou art no more: no more will any, ei­ther of those things that now thou seest, or of those men that now are living, be any more. For all things are by nature appointed [soone] to be changed, tur­ned, and corrupted, that other things might suc­ceed in their roome.

XVI. [Remember] that all is but opinion, and all opinion depends of the minde. Take thine opini­on away, and then as a ship that hath stricken in within the armes and mouth of the harbour, a pre­sent calme; all things safe and steady: a Bay, not capable of any stormes and tempests: [as the Poet hath it.]

XVII. No operation whatsoever it be, ceasing for a while, can be truly said to suffer any evill, because it is at an end. Neither can he that is the Author of that operation; for this very respect, because his o­peration is at an end, be said to suffer any evill. Like­wise then, neither can the whole body of all our a­ctions (which is our life:) if in time it cease, be said to suffer any evill for this very reason, because it is at an end: nor He truly be said to have beene ill af­fected, that did put a period to this series of actions. Now this time or certaine period, depends of the determination of Nature: sometimes of particular nature, as when a man dyeth old; but of nature in generall, however; the parts whereof thus changing one after another, the whole world still continues fresh and new. Now that is ever best and most sea­sonable, which is for the good of the Whole. Thus it appeares that death of it selfe, can neither bee hurtfull to any in particular, because it is not a sham­full [Page 205]thing (for neither is it a thing that depends of our owne will, nor of it selfe contrary to the com­mon good) and generally, as it is both expedient and seasonable to the Whole, that in that respect it must needs be good. It is that also, which is brought unto us by the order and appointment of the divine providence; so that hee whose will and minde in these things runnes along with the divine ordi­nance, and by this concurrence of his will and minde with the Divine providence, is led & driven along, as it were by God himselfe, may truly be ter­med and esteemed the [...], or Divinely led and inspired.

XVIII. These three things thou must have al­wayes in a readinesse: first concerning thine owne actions, whether thou doest nothing either idly, or otherwise, then justice and equity doe require: and concerning those things that happen unto thee ex­ternally; that either they happen unto thee by chance, or by providence; of which two to accuse either, is equally against reason. Secondly, what like unto our bodies are [or, what are the beginnings of our bodies] whilest yet rude and imperfect, untill they be animated: and from their animation, untill their expiration: of what things they are com­pounded, and into what things they shall be dissol­ved. Thirdly, [how vaine all things will appeare unto thee] when, from on high as it were, looking down, See B. VII. n. 26 thou shalt contemplate all things upon Earth, and the wonderfull murability, that they are subject unto: considering withall, both the immensnesse of that Ayre, and of that Heaven [or, the infinite, both [Page 206]greatnesse and variety of things aeriall and things coele­stiall,] that are round about it. And that as often as thou shalt behold them, thou shalt still see the same: as the same things, so the same shortnesse of conti­nuance of all those things. And, behold, These be the things that we are so proud, and puffed up for.

XIX. Cast away from thee opinion, and thou art safe. And what is it that hinders thee from casting of it away? When thou art grieved at any thing, hast thou forgotten that all things happen accor­ding to the Nature of the Universe; and that him onely it concernes, who is in fault; and moreover, that what is now done, is that which from ever hath beene done in the world, and will ever be done, and is now done every where: how neerely all men are allied one to another by a kindred not of blood, nor of seed, but of the same minde. Thou hast also for­gotten that every mans minde, partakes of the Dei­tie; and issueth from thence; and that no man can properly call any thing his owne, no not his sonne, nor his body, not his life; for that they all proceed from that One [who is the giver of all things:] That all things are but opinion; that no man lives pro­perly, but that very instant of time which is now present [or, that all life properly doth consist in this pre­sent instant of time, See B. II. n. XII. separated from the which is ei­ther past or future.] And therefore that no man [whensoever hee dieth] can properly be said to lose any more, then an instant of time.

XX. Let thy thoughts ever runne upon them, who once for some one thing or other, were moved with extraordinary indignation; who were once in the [Page 207]highest pitch of either honour, or calamity; or mu­tuall hatred and enmity; or of any other fortune or condition whatsoever. Then consider whats now become of all those things. All is turned to smoake; all to ashes, and a meere fable; and perchance not so much as a fable. As also whatsoever is of this Na­ture, as Fabius Catulinus in the field; Lucius Lupus, and Stertinius at Baiae; Tiberius at Capreae: and Velius Rufus, and all such examples of vehement prosecution in worldly matters; let these also runne in thy minde at the same time; and how vile every object of such earnest and vehement prosecution is; and how much more agreeable to true Philosophie it is, for a man to carry himselfe in every matter that offers it selfe, justly, and moderatly, as one that fol­loweth the Gods with all simplicity, For, for a man to be proud and high conceited, that he is not proud and high conceited, is of all kinde of pride and pre­sumption, the most intolerable.

XXI. To them that aske thee, Where hast thou seene the Gods, or how knowest thou certainly that there be Gods, that thou art so devout in their wor­ship? I answer first of all, that even to the very eye, they are in some manner visible and apparent. Se­condly, neither have I ever seene mine owne soule, and yet I respect and honour it. So then for the Gods, by the dayly experience that I have of their power [and providence towards my selfe and others:] I know certainly that they are, and therefore wor­ship them.

XXII. Herein doth consist happinesse of life, for a man to know theroughly the true nature of every [Page 208]thing; What is the matter, and what is the forme of it: with all his heart and soule, ever to doe that which is just, and to speake the truth. What then remaineth but to enjoy thy life in a course and co­haerence of good actions, one upon another imme­diatly succeeding, and never interrupted, though for never so little a while?

XXIII. There is but one light of the sunne, though it be intercepted by walls & mountaines, and other thousand objects. There is but one common sub­stance of the whole World, though it be concluded and restrained into severall different bodies, in num­ber infinite. There is but one common soule, though divided into innumerable particular essences and natures. So is there but one common intellectuall soule, though it seeme to be divided. And as for all other parts of those Generalls which we have men­tioned, as either sensitive soules or subjects, these of themselves (as naturally irrationall) have no common mutual reference one unto another, though many of them containe a Mind [or, Reasonable Fa­culty] in them, whereby they are ruled and gover­ned [or, that hath power and authority over them.] But of every reasonable minde, this is the particu­lar nature, that it hath reference to whatsoever is of her owne kinde, and desireth to be united: nei­ther can this common affection, or mutuall unity and correspondencie, be here intercepted or divi­ded, or confined to particulars [as those other common things are.]

XXIV. What doest thou desire? To live long. What? To enjoy the operations of a sensitive soule; [Page 209]or of the appetitive Facultie? or wouldst thou grow, and then decrease againe? Wouldst thou long bee able to talke, to thinck and reason with thyselfe? Which of all these seemes unto thee a worthy object of thy desire? Now if of all these thou doest finde that they be but little worth in themselves, proceed on unto the last, which is, In all things to follow God and Reason. But for a man to greeve that by death he shall be deprived of any of these things, is both against God and Reason.

XXV. What a small portion of vaste and infinite eternitie it is, that is allowed unto euery one of us, and how soone it vanisheth into the generall age of the world: of the common substance, and of the common soule also what a small portion is allotted unto us: and in what a little clod of the whole Earth (as it were) it is that thou doest crawle. After thou shalt rightly have considered these things with thy selfe, phancie not any thing else in the world any more to bee of any weight and mo­ment but this, to do that only which thyne owne nature doth require; and to conforme thyselfe to that which the common Nature doth affoord.

XXVI. What is the present estate of my under­standing? For herein lyeth all indeede. As for all other things, they are without the compasse of myne owne will: and if without the compasse of my will, then are they as dead things unto me, and as it were mere smoake.

XXVII. To stirre up a man to the contempt of death this among other things, is of good power and efficacie, that even they who esteemed plea­sure [Page 210]to bee happines, and payne miserie, did ne­verthelesse [many of them] contemne death [as much as any.] And can death be terrible to him, to whome that only seemes good, which [in the ordi­narie course of nature] is seasonable? to him, to whome, whether his actions bee many or few, so they be all good, is all one; and who whether hee behold the things of the world [being allwayes the same] either for many years, or for few yeares only, is altogether indifferent? O man! as a Citizen thou hast lived, and conversed in this great Citty [the World.] Whether just for so many yeares, or no, what is it unto thee? Thou hast lived (thou maiest bee sure) as long as the Lawes, and Orders of the City required; which may bee the common comfort of all. Why then should it bee grievous unto thee, if (not a Tyran, nor an unjust Judge, but) the same nature that brought thee in, doth now send thee out of the world? As if the Praetor should fairely dismisse him from the scene [or, stage] whom he had taken in to act a while. Oh, but the play is not yet at an end, there are but three Acts yet acted of it? Thou hast well said: for in matter of life, three Acts is the whole Play. Now to set a certain time to every mans acting, belongs unto him only, who as first hee was of thy composition, so is now the cause of thy dissolution. As for thy­selfe, thou hast to do with neither. Goe thy wayes then well pleased and contented: for so is He that dismisseth thee.

FINIS.

NOTES VPON ANTONINVS.

UPON The first Booke.

THe inscription of these Books is: M. [...], which I verily beleeve to be Antoninus his owne, because both for propriety and obscurity so sutable to these his Bookes. I say both for proprietie and obscuritie: for as no other title could fit the subject of these books better, if rightly understood; so is the obscurity of it such, that few I thinke have penetrated into the true meaning of it. Not they I am sure, (as that ancient Greec Author, whome Suidas doth alleage) who expound it, [...]: much lesse they, (as Xylander and Lipsius) who translate it, De vita sua. Canterus comes neerer: De officio suo. But, de seipso (as Xylander himselfe in his first Edition had well renderd it, but ill expounded it, seu vita sua:) or Dese; as my Father (of blessed memorie) doth render it in his Comments upon Persius, is both more lit­terall, and more true by farre. Now by [...], you must know, the Stoicks understood [...], a mans reason or intellectuall part, and his opinions, by which hee did frame and order the course of his life. Of all other [Page 2]things whatsoever, they held, that they were little or no­thing at all unto man; (and therefore termed them [...], or, things indifferent:) his minde and his opinions (in their judgement,) being the only thing, that every man in himself could properly call Himselfe. [...]. Never either commend or discommend any man for ordinary common things (which men usually are either commended or discom­mended for:) but only for his dogmata, or, certaine Tenets in points of life and practise. For they onely are that which every man may truly account his owne, and that only which can make actions either shamefull or praiseworthy. See An­toninus himselfe Booke VIII. Number (as for the ease and convenience of the Reader we have divided him) XXXVIII. And againe B. X. n. XXXVII. Apuleius de Deo Socr. Si coti­diana corum aera dispungas, invenies in rationibus multa prodigè profusa, & in Semet nihil. In sui dico Daemonis cul­tum. If thou shalt run over their ordinarie expences (saith he) thou shalt finde that upon many other occasions they have been very prodigall and excessive; but Upon Themselves at little or no cost at all. Vpon their owne Daemon [or, Spirit: See note 5. upon Booke II.] I meane, &c.

1. Both to frequent publike Schooles.] [...], rendred by Xylander, ut ne in publicos lu­dos commearem, sed, &c. which by the plaine and evident testimony of ancient Writers will appeare most false. Witnesse the ancient Author cited by Suidas, who speaking of Antoninus, [...](saith hee with great admiration:) [...]. And that hee did so to his dying day appeareth by that which followeth in the same writer. Tantum in eo studium Philo­sophiae fuit (they are the words of Julius Capitolinus in his life:) ut adscitus jam in Imperatoriam dignitatem tamen ad [Page 3]domum Apollonii discendi causae veniret. Audivit & Sextum Chaeronensem, &c. And againe, Studuit & Iuri, audiens L. Volusium &c. Frequentauit & declamatorum Scholas publicas, &c. So much I thinke will suffice, to make any man con­fesse that it must bee written, as I have interpreted, not [...] ▪ but [...], &c. or without any pronoune (if any man had rather have it so, because it is omitted in most places, though expressed in some towards the end,) [...] &c.

2. Not easily to beleeve those things which are common­ly &c.] The words are, [...] in the second edition:) [...], &c. Xylander in his translation corrects it, [...]; which is very probable. Suidas cites it, [...], which I cannot altogether reject, because [...] and [...] are words, that Antoninus doth often use, and to this purpose: as where he sayeth, [...]. But in this sense I must confesse, it should rather have beene, Bas [...]p 242. [...]. However, that Antoninus by these words doth un­derstand the Christians, I thinke probable for these rea­sons. First, because (as appeareth by the ancients) Christians were ordinarily accounted by the Heathens, and Christ himselfe held by them to have beene a great Magician. Secondly, that the Heathens themselves, not only upon other occasions, but especially for Daemoniacs, and such as were possessed, made often use of Christians, appeareth by more then one passage of Tertullian: and in particular, how Lucilla daughter to this Antoninus, infested with the De­vill, was cured by one Abercius, Bishop of Hieropolis; may bee seene by the acts and particulars of it yet extant. Whe­ther alsoe those lawes of Antoninus, made against them, qui sub obtentu & monitu deorum quaedam vel renunciant uel jactant, vel scientes effingunt, quo leves hominum animi superstitione Numinis terreantur, mentioned by Ulpianus and Modestinus, were made against Christians, as some are [Page 4]of opinion, I will not determine. Now if soe bee that An­toninus doth here intend the Christians, I doe not see, how hee could altogether discredit the truth of their straunge and miraculous operations: especially if wee give credit to those Acts extant, not as yet, that I know of, questioned by any: and that in generall hee should discredit all such operations as were accounted miraculous and supernatu­rall, is much lesse credible: when as (besides many good reasons that might bee given to the contrary:) the Chri­stians themselves (as Athenagoras who then lived) did not deny, but that strange things in that kind were done and brought to passe among the very Heathens. [...]: That in some certain places and townes of severall nations some operations (or, wonderfull effects) are brought to passe in the name of Idols, is not by us denyed: sayth hee in his Apology. I say therfore, except wee much restraine Antoninus his words, of such, and such impo­stours, and of such, and such wonders; I doe not see how he could professe that hee did [...]: but [...] well he might; that is, first with best discretion and diligence examine things before hee did beleeve them: and then in case the truth did appeare, yet not as one of the silly mul­titude to stande amazed with a superstitious kind of asto­nishment, but as a wise man to consider of the causes and possibility of all such whether only seeming, because secret; or truly and really supernaturall events and opera­tions. For these reasons I conceive it should have ben ey­ther [...] hee did consider of them with discretion: or, [...] at least; that he gave noe great heed vnto such things; rather then so ab­solutely [...], that he did not beleeve. But I deter­mine it not. All this whyle, though my matter did in a manner lead me unto it, have I forborne to mētion that great wonder, which in the dayes, & in the very presence of this Antoninus, happened in his warres of Germanie, when [Page 5]God at the same time by a miraculous raine from heaven, both revived the Romans, which were now at the last cast, having lost already many of their number, which peri­shed for want of water; and overthrew their enemies in the hight of their greatest hopes and securitie: acknow­ledged by all generally as well Heathens as Christians, mi­raculous; but by the Heathens, adscribed, by some of them, to God immediately; by others, to art Magick; and by the Christians, both Fathers and Historians, to the Name of Christ, at the Intercession of some Christian Soldiers of the army. Before I would ground any thing upon this storie, I must first professe my mind concerning some cir­cumstances of it, wherein I may perchance be found to differ from others; and that I would be loth to doe but upon very good grounds, which would require a large discourse; and therefore it is, that I haue declined it. I will only tell you (because it may concerne Antoninus, that you know it:) what some learned men haue judged of those letters, which in these dayes goe under Antoninus his name as written by him to the Senate about this mat­ter (produced by Baron and others;) which is, that they are either supposititiae, aut saltem interpolatae. Capp. Hist. Eccles. p. 42.

3. Not to keepe coturnices] [...]. How marvei­lously and even madly some men were wont to affect such things, may appeare by the cōpositiō of the word [...], which among other examples of the like composition as [...], &c. is set downe by Athenaeus lib. 11.

4. I did write Dialogues in my youth] in imitation of Plato and others: to good purpose, as Antoninus did it; but not as many others, who tooke a pride in it, and thought themselves fine fellowes for it. [...]! Behold how bravely I can write Dialogues! saith a vaine glorious Stoick, Arr. lib. 2. cap. 1. The next words [Page 6]may bee conferred with those of Capitolinus in this Em­perours life: Duodecimum annum ingressus habitum philo­sophi sumpsit, & deinceps tolerantiam, cum studeret in pallio, & humi cubaret: vix autem matre agente instrato pellibus lectulo accubaret. Thus may many other places bee compa­red with the like either of Capitolinus, or others that haue written his life, or, of him, which will bee no great labour for any to doe, that desires to understand this booke, and would be too taedious for mee to undertake: which I desire the reader to take notice of.

5. That I did never affect by way of ostentation] [...]. &c. Of this kinde of vanity see Epicte­tus in Arrianus at large lib. 6. cap. 12. [...].

6. Epictetus his Hypomuemata] collected and set out by Arrianus his Scholler, and so called and intitled by Ar­rianus himselfe, in his preface before the saide bookes: as learned Master Young, the worthy keeper of the Kings Library, and my kind freind had noted in the Margine of that Antoninus, which he did lend mee.

7. A man not subject to bee vexed] Antoninus his words are, [...]. Xylander translates them, Tum etiam ut in percipienda doctrina me non morosum praeberem: sed circumspicerem de homine qui palam experientiam, & in tradend [...]s scienti [...] facultatem minimum suorum bonoru [...] pu­taret, praeterea modum beneficia (ut iis videntur) ab amicis accipiendi, ne vel accepta ea nos viliores redderent vel &c. The reason of that limitation, [...] (as commonly they are accounted,) added by Antoninus to the word [...], is, because that favours and courtesies may be thought a [Page 7]thing arbitrary, which either to performe or to omit wholy depends of our owne good will and discretion; whereas all possible good turnes and good offices of what kind or extent soever, that one man can performe unto ano­ther, are, by Antoninus his philosophy, meere duties of nature, and right reason: which all men as men, are ęqual­ly obliged unto. So afterwards using the word [...] of things externall and worldly against the pręcise decrees of the Stoicks, he restraines it likewise with a [...]: honours and dignities, as commonly they are accounted.

8. Not to bee offended with Idiots, nor vnseasonably to set] [...]. There was not any thing more ordinarie with their vaine glorious affe­cted Stoicks, then in all places & upon all occasions, semper crepare Theoremata, To bee ever talking and disputing about their Theorems and proper Tenets: so that this very word Theoremata, became almost infamous, through their abusę and vanitie. To represse this abuse, the learned Stoicks, who are yet extant, have many caveats and serious admo­nitions. But most pertinent heere are Epictetus his words cap. 68. [...], which he repeates in the very next chapter also [...] and [...] are words so frequent and ordinary, in the writings of the Stoicks appropriated by them, to them, that they called Idiots, as men that in very deed saw nothing as it was, nor knew the true nature of any thing, but were all­together led by phansies and opinions: that I shall not need to produce any examples. Now for the word [...], that I offer it no violence to translate it as I doe, may ap­peare by this passage of Diog. Laertius, who writes that the Stoicks called vertues some [...] & some [...] &c. If this would not serve, with little alteration it might have been read to the same purpose [...]. For in the Stoicks language [...] [Page 8](taken in another sense) and [...] are all one thing; as I could easily have shewed.

9. Who are commonly called [...]] His meaning by these words I take to be no other, then, That Great men are not commonly soe tenderhearted. Some such thing it was that Antoninus Pius alluded unto when in excuse of this our Antoninus his (as it was thought by others) vn­seemely lamentation, for the death of his Foster-father, hee used these words: Permittite illi ut homo sit, neque enim vel Philosophia, vel Imperium tollit affectus. The word [...], some lines after: I might have translated, I know, more litterally. But then would it have been taken by many of the Vulgar, quite contrary to Antoninus his meaning: whose meaning we may best know by his forme of Go­vernment, which hee never went about to alter, that I know of. He might also allude perchaunce to that [...] that he speaketh of lib. 9. towards the end.

10. From Claudius Maximus] it is printed, [...], &c. whereas in all the other examples from the be­ginning to the end, it is constantly [...] as [...], &c. But that here also it must of necessity bee so, may bee collected by these words follow­ing some few lines after, [...], &c. which words if you refer to [...], you cannot possibly make any sense of. But if unto [...], it will bee here, as in other places, where this [...] must bee paraphrased, not only, I have learned from, but also, I have observed in; as in the ex­ample immediately before. [...], &c. It was written it seemes [...] &c. which was turned into [...]. That this Maximus surname was Claudius wee learne by the Historians. Capitolinus. Audivit & Sextum Chaeronensem, Plutarchi nepotem, Iunium Rusticum, Claudium Maximum & Cinnam Catulum, Stoicos.

11. And patient hearing of others] in the Greec [...], which words doe not well hang together as any man may see. My Father in his Notes upon Jul. Capitol. cites this place, and writes it thus: [...], &c. which may very well bee, if you conceive those words, [...]. &c. (as it seemes my Father would have it:) not as Anto­ninus owne words, but as taken by him from some other, and here applyed; as indeed hee doth often; and so here perchance. Otherwise, I should like better, that the words were thus read, [...], &c. which I have followed in my translation.

12. And kept an account of the cōmon expences] [...]. Capitolinus in his life, Rationes omnium provinciarum ap­primè scivit, & vectigalium, &c. This booke of accounts was called Rationarium Imperij: and it was kept very strictly by many Emperours, but not so strictly by any as by this Antoninus; who therefore was called by some in scorne [...] as Xiphilinus recordeth, and is here in­timated by our Antoninus; who toucheth upon it againe, B. 6. n. XXV III. See also Julian, in his Casares. But as patient as hee was, I doubt much whether he would have borne with any man, that should have reported that of him, which Xylander (not Antoninus:) doth here, who translates this passage: Sumptus procurabat, neque detrectabat de iis rebus causar [...] dicere: which is little better then of a meeke & pa­tient prince, to make him an obnoxious subject. Now if the word [...] be not found in other Greec authours in this very sense, yet is it a most proper word for Anton. his purpose. For what is [...] properly, but rigor? and rigor was the word, that was then used among the Latins upon this occasion. So Valerianus in his Epistle written in the behalfe of Aurelianus, Vellemus q. (saith he) singulis devo­tissimis [Page 10]Reipub. viris multo maiora deferre compondia—sed facit rigor publicus ut accipere de provinciarum oblationi­bus ultra ordinis sui gradum nemo plus possit, &c. Flav. Vo­piscus, in the life of Aurelianus the Emperour.

13. That he never was cōmended by any man] [...], &c. The Greec words may bee interpreted, either that hee never so commended others, or, (as wee have renderd it,) that he never was by others so commended himselfe. For both interpretations, probable reasons may bee given. As for the first, That such a man as Antoninus was, should not bee commended by any, for an officious obsequious man should bee no wonder, a man would thinke, but rather a wonder if he should. Neither do these other titles of [...] or [...] sate so well with the person of a Prince, that the omission of them should bee noted and recorded, as a matter observable. But that soe ingenuous a man as Antoninus was, should never com­mend in any other those saidparts and faculties mentioned, is not in any mans judgement, I thinke, without some wonder; and in the judgement of a Stoick, must needs bee very commendable: out of the schoole of which Sect proceeded this decree: [...]; &c. Never either commend or discommend any man for any thing that is common & popular, but onely for his Dogmata or certaine Tenets in point of life and practise; for they onely are that which every man may truly account his owne, and that onely wich can make our actions either shame­full or praiseworthy: as by Epictetus in Arrianus, you shall finde more then once expressed. But now on the other side, that which Antoninus not many lines after doth adde of his Fathers care, that all in any profession (as Oratours by name) excellent might according to their desert bee reputed and respected in the world; and that which in the sixt booke hee doth more cleerely set downe of the [Page 11]same among other things, that he was not Sophistes; doth as pregnantly crosse and overthrow that former interpreta­tion. Neither is it necessary, that what is here said of Pius, must bee understood of him when Emperour; which he was not till the yeare of his life 53. or thereabouts. And as for those other commendations of Sophista and Schola­sticus (words then, of the same or little different significa­tion:) they were generally then, and many yeares after, titles of that high credit and esteeme, that the greatest that were, as they disdained not the practise, so they were for the most part, very ambitious of the Name. That inter­pretation of the word [...] (whereof [...] I suppose to bee but an illiterate, though litterall glossema from the margin crept into the Text:) anofficious obsequious man, I haue collected from the use of the words vernilitas and verniliter, for [...] and [...], &c. which I have found in Horace, Sene a and others. But a better interpre­ter of Antoninus his minde (though he was before him) wee cannot desire then Epictetus, who, if I mistake not much, what ours intended by the words [...], doth more plainly expresse by [...]; a man of a sweete and pleasing conversation: by whome also, both how am­bitious men were generally of this commendation, and how incompatible (as it was used:) the Stoicks esteemed it with true vertue, wee may further learne, [...], &c. For if of the two (saith he) thou hadst rather be a true modest grave man, then heare they selfe thus com­mended: O what a loving sweete man this is! then away with these, &c. [...], &c. But if otherwise, &c. Arrianus lib. 4. cap. 2. [...].

14. Having a respect unto men only as men] in the Greec [...], which I thinke should bee [Page 12]read, — [...], &c. [...] scil. or, for [...]. I reade it, [...], because this [...] ( [...], &c.) must needs have reference to some former reason. Now that [...] is a very good reason, these other passages of Antoninus may declare, lib. 8. n. XXII. [...]. Shall I doe it? yeas; I will: and the end of my action shall bee, to doe good unto men: that is, and my comfort shall bee, that I doe it for the good and benefit of men. And in the ninth Booke n. XLIII. [...], &c. Thou hast done a good turne to a man: what wouldest thou more? is not this sufficient? must thou also for a thing done according to thy nature bee rewarded? many other like passages there bee. And here I thinke it will not bee unseasonable to note, that hee that reades the writings of the Stoicks, must not alwaies too preciscly stand upon the ordinary use and construction of words. For besides that they were miri verborum nova­tores (as Cicero somwhere speaketh of them) and coyners of new words (in this little booke you may observe many words not any where else to bee read that I know:) them Master Chrysippus had taught them (as is recorded by Plutar.) not to thinke much if at any time they committed either [...]; even such soloecismes which most others would bee ashamed of. For one thing I cannot but highly commend them, that they would expresse their thoughts, though commonly with words very proper and significant, yet in a stile so free from all affectation or cu­riositie (such as is this of our Antoninus, that of Epictetus and some others) as commeth next to the simplicity of the holy Scriptures.

15. ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀] The Greec words, as they are printed are, [...]. [Page 13]Two learned men have had already to do with this place, and severall wayes have gone about to correct it; as may bee seene in their Notes and Com­ments upon the Augustae Historiae scriptores. I may not in­terpose my self as a Judge between them, for many reasons: and perchaunce some reasons I could give, if I were to speake my minde freely, why I would follow neither. The case so standing, that I neither knew how to mend them my selfe, nor yet was sully satisfied with their conje­ctures, I thought good not to meddle with the place at all, and therefore have noted it as an imperfect place, though my opinion bee (I must confesse) that it is rather ob­scure then imperfect; and that very little alteration will serve the turne. The best is, the drist and scope of it, is apparant enough by the words before.

16. To live in the Court without either guards or fol­lowers] [...]. Lipsius in his Comments upon Tacitus takes it for graunted, that this place must needs be understood of those things which were properly called [...], or, Insignia Imperii. Indeed [...] I confesse, or [...] is commonly the first that is reckned among these particulars; and yet the words are not so proper to expresse the Royall guard, but they are sometimes used of any troope or company, that either in duty, good will, or respect, attend any one, though hee be neither King nor Prince, as for the words [...] which hee translates by Purpura they containe no more then extraordinary apparell in generall; All the question is, by [...] and [...] what is to bee understood. By [...], that [...] or fyer (saith Lipsius:) which He­rodian testifieth was wont in his time to be carried before the Emperour, as Insigne Majestatis. A strange thing to mee it is, if this [...] were a [...] indeed, that Herodian making mention of it so often as hee doth (fower severall [Page 14]times at the least) should never call it [...], but alwaies [...]. But if this were graunted of [...], what are these [...] that Antoninus speakes of here? doth any other Author mention any such thing among the Insignia Imperis? That indeed the ancient Romanes had their cubiculares imagines (as is observed by my Father upon Suetonius:) and that the latter Emperours of Rome did keepe a Fortu­nam Auream in their bed-chambers as Insigne Imperii, I know. Of these I am sure these [...] here mentioned cannot bee understood, and Lipsius tells us nothing of them at all, nor any other that I know. For my part I rather think that Antoninus doth not here speake of those Insignia par­ticularly, but that hee doth instance in these particulars, as particulars of worldly pompe and magnificence in gene­rall: which he himselfe by those words ( [...]) doth seeme to intimate. Now among those many descrip­tions of great worldly pompe and magnificence, that have been made by ancient authors, there is not any that hath beene more taken notice of (imitated since by others, and among others by Virgil himself in his Culex:) then that of Lucretius, in his second Booke, the very beginning where­of is,

Si non aurea sunt Juvenum Simulachra per aedes,
Lampadas igniferas manibus retinentia dextris
Iumina nocturnis epulis ut suppoditentur. &c.

And yet long before Lucretius, had a greater Poet, even Homer the Poet of Poets, used the same expression, whome Lucretius herein doth seeme rather to translate then imitate: for as their sense so their words are the same without any difference, but of the language. Homers words in the description of Alcinous his Palace are these:

[...],
[...]
[...].

Where though there could bee no great doubt of it, yet since the Scholiast, thought good to make a note of it, I thinke it not impertinent, to transcribe it hither from him, that by [...] are to bee understood [...]: which is the word by Antoninus here used. I need not to say more. Let the reader judge. I must onely adde, that whereas Antoninus may bee thought to commit a kind of Tautologie in these words, [...], his meaning by those [...] is, to distinguish those [...] and [...] from ordinary common ones such as were in every Romanes howse almost, which could bee no fit instance of great excesse and sumptuousnesse; but Such and Such, as were ordinary among the great ones and in great places.

17. So that as for the Gods] [...] [...]; &c. Xyl. Quod ad Deos attineret—nihil jam obstare, quin aut secundum naturam viverem, aut non. Atque hoc quidem fore mea culpa, qui Deûm monitus, &c. Between the particles [...] and [...], there is a manifest opposition, which Xylander did not observe. The words otherwise I confesse are somewhat intricate and confused. Not long after, [...], is by Xylander rendred, Hocque Caietae sicut Chraesae, as if it had beene, [...]: which although Xylander do not so well like of in his Notes, and therefore I may the better bee excused, if I did not follow him; yet now upon better consideration I durst undertake to maintaine it both against Xylander himselfe and my translation. For Caieta wee know, was an Haven towne of Campania in Italie; where Antoninus as it should seeme, having beene an earnest suter by the sea shore, whether to Apollo, or any other Heathen God for some thing or other, wherein he conceived himselfe afterwards to have beene heard; it could not but put him in mind of Chryses, Apollos priest, [Page 16]who is described in Homer Iliad. 1. earnestly praying [...]; that is, by the sea-shore; & there immediatly obtaining his request. The words therefore, as I conceiue, should thus bee translated, — my dizze­nesse: as that also that happened unto thee at Caieta, as unto Chryses, [when he prayed by the sea-shore.] That the sea-shore was a place in great request with Antoninus, he himselfe professeth. B. IV. n. 3.

18. An unsociable uncharitable Man] [...], (a frequent word with him:) must in Antoni­nus bee taken as the opposit of [...] a sociable Man, one who out of a due respect unto, and affectionat care of humane society, and of the publike community of men, is in all things that tend to their good, willing to fit and accommodate himselfe unto others, accounting their wel­fare his owne happinesse. Hee then that is not so, is [...]: that is in generall, an unsociable man. Now the vertue of a sociable man consisting especially partly in meekenesse and affability, and partly in goodnesse and bountifulnes; [...] may bee more particularly interpreted either a harsh rigid and arrogant man; or one that is hard hearted and uncharitable. Of these two, because Anton. doth al­wayes use the word [...], whether adjectively or sub­stantively with speciall relation to [...], and the like; by which words he doth also somtimes expresse him­self: the proper signification of [...] must in his accep­tion be that which is properly contrary to goodness & boun­tifulness. But as Charity being otherwise of it selfe but one particular vertue, is neverthelesse in another sense and res­pect saide to comprehend all other vertues, (as Rom. 13. Cor. 13. and elsewhere wee are taught at large,) so that a man any wayes vicious may be called an uncharitable man: even so is the word unsociable used by Antoninus, which therefore I know not how better to expresse, then by the word uncharitable. And here I cannot but say som­what [Page 17]of the marveillous consent of this Heathen mans philosophy, with the holy scriptures. That it doth in many things agree with the sacred word of God, any man that reades him will easily observe. But however, that in many it doth agree I do not so much regard, as that it doth in the chiefest. In those things I meane, which in the scrip­tures are termed, [...] in the old Testament; Hos. 8.12. M. 23.23. and in the new, [...], of which kind espe­cially are those two great Commandements, to love God with all our hearts, and our neighbours as our selves. Which be the very things which in these bookes are most pressed and stoode upon; as might appeare by a number of passages, obvious inough to any man that reades him; or almost any part of him. And as our Saviour saith of those, that on them the law and the prophets doe hang; so doth Antoninus in some places seeme to reduce all his Philo­sophy to these two very points: [...]; 58. (saith hee in a place) [...], what will suffice thee, as long as thou livest? what else, but to worship and praise the Gods, and to do good unto men? and againe in another booke: 60 [...]. Let the onely object of thy joy and content in this world bee this, from one charitable action presently to passe unto another, God alwayes remembred in all. And in the same book againe [...]. Feare the Gods, suc­cour them that are in misery [or, intend the good and pre­servation of men] this life is but short, and the onely fruite and comfort of this earthly life is, a holy disposition, and actions that are charitable. In the sixt booke, [...] There is but one thing in this present life, that is of great consequence, and by us much to be respected; for a man whilest he liveth, living according to justice and truth, kindly and lovingly to converse with false unrighteous men. [Page 18]And againe as the Apostle doth particularly reduce all commandements to Charity which therefore hee calls the fulfilling of the Law, as elsewhere it is called the end of the Law and the bond of perfectnes: so doth Antoninus not only often mention [...], &c.) which I cannot better English then by the word Charity) as that which is all in all; but also for the same reason, by words (as al­ready hath been intimated) which of thēselves are proper and peculiar to either this one vertue, as [...], &c. or to the contrary vice, as [...], &c. (words which of themselves imply no more then sociableness or unsociableness▪ a charitable, or uncharitable disposition;) he doth include & cōprehend all vertues & vices in generall. And whereas I have mentioned the word [...] as pro­per to signifie a sociable, or charitable disposition; of it self indeed, and as Antoninus doth use it, it is so: how be it it is not so used by all. For Plato (whome Antoninus other­wise both in words & sentēces doth studiously follow:) first taking the word more popularly, for one that beareth of­fices in the commonwealth and for an ambitious aspiring man; as Anton doth extende that more proper signification of the word, to imply an honest vertuous man in generall; so hee (upon further consequences, and deductions from the present estate of that common wealth whereof he was a member,) that other more popular word, in generall to expresse a vicious ungodly man. In a matter of such weight and consequence as this, which by writers both divine and humane is made the very matter indeed and purpose of our lives & of all religion: I thought I ought to bee the larger, to make the words fully understood; for sure I am they are oftentimes much mistaken.

19. Blood bones and a skin] [...], &c. It is certaine that [...] or [...] was properly some Peplus, or coyfe used by women tocover their head & haires: answe­rable [Page 19](if not the very same) to that which by the Latins was called reticulus or reticulum. As for the words there­fore, wee might have thougt that Antoninus here had alluded to that part of the body which the Latins usually call omentum, and by the Greecs is sometimes called [...] and [...], (a fishers net properly;) as is obser­ved by the Anatomists: and that these following words, [...], had been a further expli­cation of this reticulus or [...], the reason of this greec appellation being renderd by Pollux, because that (the omentum scil. or [...]) [...], &c. and that the Anatomists doe further describe it, as consisting of a world of little nerves, veynes and arteries. And by this, I further graunt, Antoninus might allude (and so include) to the bowells also, covered in some sort by this omentum, as the haires divided into tresses, and winded up together (not much unlike the foulding and twisting of the bowells in the belly:) were covered and kept in by this reticulus. Yet neverthelesse why after generall and principall parts as blood and bones, hee should make such expresse mention either, of the omentum, or (to extend it as far as may bee) of the belly it selfe, more then of other parts, I know not. And therefore untill I bee better satisfied, I rather under­stand this [...] here of a more generall covering, to wit the skin of the body, which though by parts of lesse moment; yet wholy taken, is not only the most apparant; but also may be reckned as a principall similary part of the body, and so of one extraordinarily fallen in his flesh, wee usually say in English, that he is nothing but skin and bones; Now of it Anatomists say, that it is the opinion of the vulgus that exvenarum, arteriarum, & nervorum extremi­tatibus dilatatis, & eorum inexplicabili textura generatur. Whether it bee so or no, I leave it to them to dispute.

Notes upon the second Booke.

EVery mans happiness depends from himselfe] [...], &c. The purpose and meaning of all this passage, I thinke is appa­rant enough. If I thought it were not, I would refer the Reader to n. XIV. of this very Booke, and sundry other places, where he handles the same matter more at large. As for those words [...], certainely somewhat must bee supplied, to make the sense full; eyther [...] as wee have translated it: or [...]; which I thinke more probable, because Antoninus doth much affect (if I may use that word of him and doe him no wronge) the simplicity of these repetitions, and that it is ordinary for Scribes (as is well knowen to all them that euer had to doe with MS.) to flipp over some thing, when they come to such repetitions. All this passage is thus translated (whether I speake properly or noe, when I say translated, let the Reader judge: Bas. ed. p. 179.) by Xylander, Ignominia teipsum affice, anime, contemne teipsum inquam: ut enim honore tei­psum afficias, non tibi praeterea tempus suppetet. Vita enim u­nicuique id praebet: quae tibi propemodum jam exacta est. Non igitur teipsum venerare sed felicitatem tuam aliorum in ani­mis repositam habe. &c.

2. That intend not, and guide not by reason and discre­tion] [...], &c. Xyl. qui vero sui ipsius animi motibus non obsequitur, &c. motus non assequitur, at least, had been far more tolerable. [...], is in Antoninus, a word of great weight, and doth alwaies import, a due, right and rationall apprehension of things: but it cannot alwaies be translated alike, though never but very fitly and properly used by him. [...] also [Page 21]and [...], as [...], and [...] are proper Platonick words, by the right and full explication whereof much light might bee given to many obscure passages both of Anto­ninus and of others.

3. As after a vulgar sense such things,] [...], &c. Xyl. ubi ostendit communioremea inter se conferendi rationem &c. But they are Antoninus words of himselfe, who though he were not a profest Stoick, yet was so respective of them, that he would not transgresse against their common Tenets and opinions without some short apologie for himselfe. Now all the world knowes, that the Stoicks held, that omnia peccata were aequalia, and to compare things knowen and graun­ted aequall must needs bee very absurd. Therefore doth Antoninus by this short parenthesis here, from the rigor of their Decrees, appeale to more vulgar and popular judg­ments.

4. As unable eyther to prevent, or better to order and dispose] [...] &c. a word (or blasphemy rather) which most other Stoicks upon this or the like occasion did not sticke at. whose errour therefore Antoninus doth here modestly and obscurely point at and correct. Epicte­tus (a man otherwise so divine in his writings, that some Christians I see, but upon weake grounds I thinke, have undertaken to prove him a Christian:) in Arrianus lib. 1. cap. 1. [...]. you may reade more in him to the same purpose. so Seneca. Mitta­mus animum ad ea quae aeterna sunt, miremur in sublime vo­litantes rerum omnium formas, Deumque inter illa versan­tem & providentem, quemadmodum qua immortalia facere non potuit, quia materia prohibe bat, defendat à morte, ac ra­tione [Page 22]vitium corporis vincat. Epist. 58. and de Benef. lib. 2. cap. 29. Quicquid nobis negatum est, dari non potuit.

5. As for life therefore and death, honour and disho­nour] These words I would have the Reader, that is not otherwise much versed in the Stoicks to take especiall notice of, as the true ground of all their strange and un­naturall Tenets and Paradoxes. That all temporall worldly blessings are common both to good and bad, they saw. That this, if there were no more in it then soe, could not stand with Gods justice and goodnesse (which to deny is to deny that there is a God:) they saw likewise. Upon this ground (a ground that he stands much upon, and pres­seth as farr, as ever any Christian did:) Plato's illation was, That after this life there must needs bee a Judge­ment, when both good and bad should according to their deeds be rewarded. The Stoicks, as fully perswaded, as Plato was, that a God there is, and he a just and good God; and yet concerning the future estate of the dead, not so fully satisfied, as he was; to maintaine their beleefe against that common exception could finde no better way then to maintaine, that all those things that men usually did ei­ther seeke after or fly from, as either good or bad; were in themselves and in very truth, neither good nor bad, but altogether indifferent So that whether a man was rich or poore, in health or in paine, long lived or soone cut off, in honour or dishonour; that all this was nothing at all to either his happinesse or unhappines, no not whilest he li­ved; and by consequent, that it was no argument against the goodnesse and justice of God, that these things were knowen and grunted to happen unto all promiscuously, whether good or bad, Antoninus doth elsewhere touch upon it againe, as towards the end of the fourth, and about the beginning of the ninth booke. To him (though I intend brevity, yet for further illustration of a point of that weight and moment, as hath been the occasion of so many [Page 23]large volumes, I can doe no lesse then add Epictetus his words at the least, out of his Enchirid: chapter as I finde him by some divided, 38. as by others 29. [...] &c. Know that in this specially true piety towards the Gods doth consist, that thou have right opinions concerning them: as, That they are, that with justice and equity they governe the whole world: That thou to this end wert appointed and ordained, to obey them, to submitt unto them, and willingly to follow them in all things, as proceeding all from Him, and by Him brought to passe, who is Reason and Vnderstanding it selfe in the highest degree of excellency. So shalt thou never complaine of the Gods, or accuse them as neglected and little cared for by them. But this cannot possibly bee, except thou first give over all pursuit after those things which are not in our owne power: and that on them only which are in our power and wholy depend on our owne wills, thou bee fully perswaded, that all that is truly good or evill doth depend. For as for any other things if thou shalt deeme any of them good or evill, it must needs follow, See Ant. B. VI. n. XV. B. IX. n. I. that as thou dost either misse of those thou dost desire, or fall into those thou wouldest not, thou shalt not only complaine of them that are the cause, but hate them also. For this is na­turall unto every creature, as to shunn and abhorr all things hurtfull, both the things themselves and their causes: So those that are profitable both the things themselves, & their causes to prosecute and highly to respect: &c.

6. From whose bare conceits and voyces honour and cre­dit] [...], &c. quorum opiniones & voces gloriam. Quidnam est mors. &c. So Xylander translates it, and markes it for an imperfect place. That a verbe, to make the sense full, must bee supplyed I graunt: but because without it the sense of the words may bee apparant inough, it may very well bee, that whatsoever it is that is to bee supplyed, was by An­toninus [Page 24]himselfe omitted as not necessary. Now for the sense I must appeale to other like places as lib. III. n. IV. towards the end; [...], &c. Moreover that honour & praise ought not generally &c. and againe in the same booke n. X. [...] &c. And the greatest fame that can remaine, &c. In the fourth booke n. III. towards the end, [...] &c. For the whole Earth is but as one point, &c. But I will not heape all the passages he hath against the vanity of praise & applause. This in the sixt, n. XV. comes very neere: [...]. what is it then that should bee deare unto us, &c. See also the last words of the same booke.

7. And how that part of man is affected when it is sayd to bee diffused] [...]. Xyland. Praterea quomodo afficitur eo tactu pars illa. I translate it as written [...]; from the 8. booke to­wards the end, where hee treats concerning the [...] and [...] of the minde and understanding. But it may bee, it would fitt the place better if it were [...]: whether Antoninus him­selfe did soe by an ( [...]) further expound himselfe; or whether it bee but a meere glossema proceeding from any other, I leave to others to judge.

8. To the tendance of that spirit which is within him] [...] &c. I could not easily find a word either Latin or English, whereby to expresse this [...] here and elsewhere so often mentioned by Antoni­nus. That by that word Antoninus doth intend a Deity he himselfe doth sufficiently cleare, not only where hee calls it [...], and [...] but by other passages, where hee plainely sayes of him that hee is a God But even for these passages sake (besides other reasons) [Page 25]could not I well translate it God; for so must I have made him say, not only that God was a divine effluence, and a particle of God; but also that God was God; which would have been too grosse and manifest a tautologie. The word Genius used by Xylander, however it might fit in some respects; and as it is used and interpreted by some ancients, comes neerest of any Latin word to Antoninus his mea­ning: yet certaine it is, as out of Apuleius may appeare, that it is against its proper signification, that it is so used, and in regard of its more popular and ordinary use, there could not bee any other more improper and contrary. For whereas there is nothing more ordinary among the Latins then these phrases Genio indulgere; genium curare, genium defraudare and the like, in which manner of speeches the word Genius is used, as the best and greatest motive, to Epicuraean mirth and jovialtie; Antoninus doth alwaies presse his [...] as the best & greatest motive, and obliga­tion to all manner of temperance, sobriety, chastiry, mo­desty, holinesse and the like. Some will thinke perchance that I might haue reteined the word Daemō. But seeing evē in Antoninus his time and before, that word by meanes of the blessed Gospell of Christ, was allready become so pub­likely odious to Latin eares, that Apuleius himselfe, an ar­rant Heathen, being to write [...] (which was Plutarchs title) though he maintained the thing, that it was not a God but a direct Daemon, of a na­ture far different and inferiour to the Gods, yet avoided the word as odious, and of purpose, (as is well and at large observed by S. Augustin De Civitate Dei. lib. 8. cap. 14.) intitled his booke not, de Daemone, but de Deo Socratis: I should have done Antoninus great wrong, if I could not have fitted his excellent matter and purpose, with a more plausible word. Now for the word Spirit which of all others I have made choise of, some will thinke perchance, that I have made too bold with it, to put it, so sacred a word, in a Heathens mouth so often, and to make it so com­mon [Page 26]a word with him, as it will bee found by my Transla­tion. Although I could give a more direct and generall answer both for Antoninus and my selfe, if I would take occasion here to fall upon that subject: yet for brevities sake, I will content my selfe to require that of the Reader, which I thinke no reasonable man can deny, that to ex­presse an Heathens meaning, I may bee allowed words that have been used by Heathens. I thinke that of Seneca, no mā makes any question, (notwithstanding that ancient report an dopinion of many concerning some Epistles that should passe betweene him and S. Paul, which S. Hierome and others speake of;) but that he was a Heathen. His words are these Epist. 41. Propè est a te Deus: tecum est: intus est. Ita dico Lucili. Sacer intra nos Spiritus sedet, malorum bono­rumque nostrorum observator & custos: hic prout à nobis tractatus est, it a nos ipse tractat. Bonus vir sine Deo nemo est. &c. Thus much of the word. Now concerning the thing it selfe, how Antoninus came by this philosophy (so much by him in these his bookes inculcated) of this inward spirit; and so to examine Plato's and other ancients opinion concerning the same: or how neere either hee or any of them came to the truth, and so to heape together many passages, and to compare them with some like passages in the scripture; is a thing which I my selfe have taken much pleasure in, and some others would perchance, but that would require far more scope, then this place can afford mee, and therefore I let it alone.

9. With a kind of pitty and compassion also] [...] &c. The Stoicks would not allow [...] or misericordia in a wise man. For they maintained that such a one, was in continuall joy. Now [...] they defined to bee Aegritudinem animi ob alienarum miseriarum speciem or, a greefe of the minde, for other mens supposed miseries. As therefore the word implyed greefe and sorrow, they re­jected it. But as for the effects of it, as clemency, goodnes, [Page 27]and whatsoever it is that true compassion in the highest degree, for the releife and comfort of any distressed, would prompt a man unto, that they thought themselves bound unto as much as any, and proposed it (so they professed) as the maine scope of their lives and actions. Seneca is very large upon this subject. The truth is: they would not have men to bee men but meere Gods. And whiles they thus went about to elevate this vertue, the crowne of all ver­tues, to a higher pitch of divine purity and simplicity, then humane nature was capable of; and to abstract from it, as it were, all that was humane and fleshly; I feare they made many, who were not so capable of their distinctions and subtilties (such as you shall find in Seneca upon this sub­ject) the lesse to regard that, which nature otherwise, and to good purpose, had made them more capable of. Cer­taine it is and by them confessed, that for this very thing, they commonly and their profession had a very hard re­port. This may bee the occasion that Antoninus takes oc­casion to mention so often, and to commend [...], which if it bee not the same, yet comes next to [...]. Yet such respect did he beare unto the Stoicks, that he would not wee see here, use that word by them condemned without some qualification; not [...] barely; but, [...].

10. That man can part with noe life properly, then that little] [...]. Xyl. Tamen recordandum tibi est, neminem aliam ab ea quam vivit vitam deponere, neque aliam depo­nere quám eam quam vivit, so shall you find it in both the Editions.

11. For those things are plaine and apparant which] [...], &c. Spoken unto Monimus, you must under­stand, by way of Dialogue, and philosophicall conference; [Page 28]by persons introducted; and made to speake by Monimus himselfe. For that Monimus himselfe and no other must bee conceived to bee the Author of those writings both sweete and profitable, upon which Antoninus doth here passe his judgement, may bee gathered by what Laer­tius doth relate of him, whose words are, [...], &c. Hee became (saith hee) merveillous grave and serious; as in matter of honour and credit altogether carelesse; so after Trueth, very hott and vehement. He did write some merry Pleasant bookes, mixed with hidden and profitable seriousnesse. That therefore of Monimus his owne writings Antoninus is to be understood, I think is apparant, but because what was the forme of these writings, whether they were Dialogues or otherwise, is not certaine, and that Laertius saith no­thing of it; I could bee well content, that [...] were more generally translated, those things that are spoken of in the writings of Monimus the Cynick; if the Greec would allow it; which I much doubt of, though [...] for apud, I know is ordinary.

And thus have I now for reasons mentioned in the Pre­face, gone over the two first books, not omitting wittingly any place that required either light or cure. And because I presume the Reader by this to be fully satisfied both con­cerning my course that I have held in the translating of this Book, & that it needed a new translation: I will spare my selfe the labour to proceede further in the same kind; some few places, here and there (which would by no meanes be omitted) excepted. And to this end I will take all that remaines together.

Cursorie Notes and Illustrations, UPON The X. Bookes that remaine.

B. IV. n. XXXIX. Helice, Pompeii, Herculanum] concer­ning Helice, that may suffice that Xyl. hath in his Notes. Of the suddain ruine of the famous towne Pompeii by an earthquake, you may reade in Tacitus Ann. XV. Seneca Nat. Quaest. lib. 6. cap. 1. Tertullian in his Apologetis, and else­where. Herculanum was very neere Pompeii, as by Plinie, Strabo, Pomp. Mela, and others doth appeare; by which neighbourhood it may bee conceived that when the one did perish, the other could not but suffer. And though otherwise of the ruine of it I find not much in any other ancient besides Antoninus, yet as much as I said Seneca saith in the same place where he speakes of Pompeii; Nam & Herculanensis oppidi pars ruit, dubieque stant etiam quae relicta sunt. Xylander in his Notes upon this places refers us to another place of Anton. B. VIII. n. 29. where hee by his Translation makes Antoninus to mention the same Pompeii againe. But there the words bearing either Pom­peiorum gens, as Xyl. in his first Edition had renderd it; or urbs Pompeii, as it is in his second: though I condemne not this latter, yet I have rather followed that former in­terpretation, for reasons which upon a better opportunitie I shall give more at large.

Ibid. That which but the other day, was vile snivell,] The whole passage in the Greec, (as it is printed) runs thus, [...], [Page 30]&c. The latter words (for the former hee slips quite over) are thus translated by Xyland. Bas. ed. 214. & quod heri fuit piscis, eras erit salsamentum, aut cinis. The Greec words as they are printed, are not without fault; but the fault is neither great, nor hard to bee discoverd, in steed of [...], it must bee corrected, [...]: a phrase to this purpose often used by Antoninus; as [...]; and the like; which all signifie one thing. Now for [...], which by Xylander is translated Piscis: whether the Greec Di­ctionaries deceaved him, or hee them; I know not: but sure I am, that both he and they are much deceaved, and that [...] here is a meere diminutive of [...], as it sig­nifieth mucus or mucor; used againe in the same sense (and there well translated by Xylander) by Antoninus himselfe in another passage of these his Bookes. They that are any thing versed in the writings of Greec Stoicks, cannot but know, that it is their ordinary style to speake of all world­ly things (the more emphatically to expresse their vilenes and contemptible basenesse) by Diminutives: to that end taking usually that liberty to themselves, as to coyne new ones, where they finde none ready coyned to their hands. For examples whereof I need to send you no further then to this our Anton. in very many places of these his bookes. The ground, as it seemes by him, of Xylanders mistake, was the word [...] here; which because in its more or­dinary signification signifies salsamentum; and salsamen­tum is most proper of fishes; hee concluded that [...] must needs bee a fish, and thus, by a translation rather of substances then of words, (which wee might more pro­perly call a Metamorphosis) of a man he hath made a fish; and so hath it continued hitherto in all Greec Dictionaries that I have seeme. As for the word [...], that Antoninus may not bee thought either the first, or only, that everused it in this sense; I will produce but one passage of Lucian, which I thinke will abundantly do the deed. He therefore [Page 31]in his discourse de Luctu, towards the end treating of the severall sorts of buriall used by sundry nations, hath these words; [...] (saith hee) [...]. The Grecian did burne; the Persian, bury; The Indian doth anoint with swines grease; (the word in Lu­cian is [...], which must need signifie either swines dung; or as Erasmus doth render it, adipem suillum: but some learned men there bee, who correct it, [...] medulla:) the Scythian eate; and the Aegyptian powder, or imbalme. When Antoninus then saith, (either an imbalmed carkase or ashes;) hee doth allude to the custome of his dayes among the Romanes, which was either to bury (the bodies of the richer sort being first imbalmed:) or to burne: though indeed the latter, through the increase of Christians, began soone after Antoninus his time to grow much out of use every where. Now they that burned, used to gather the reliques of the dead corps, consisting of bones and ashes, and to lay them up in urnis, ollis, ossuariis; in potts, urnes, crockes, and the like earthen vessels made of purpose; and so to bury them. I would not Note it, (I must confesse,) as a thing that I thought worth nothing (for I thinke there can bee nothing more common:) but that I am glad to take this occasion to impart unto the Reader a memorable cu­riosity in matter of antiquity, which by the learned Anti­quaries beyond the Seas, I am sure, would bee much esteemed. Some 2. or 3. miles beyond Sitting borne in Kent, West, as you go to London, there is a little village in the way called Newington. It hath not beene my luck hitherto in any either later Book or ancient record, to find any thing concerning this village worth the noting. All that I can say of it is, that the inhabitants showe a place, to which they say that in former times the water came, as indeed by many circumstances it is very probable: and that Milton (A towne before the Conquest of great fame, and of very great antiquitie) is not above two miles from it. [Page 32]About a quarter of a mile before you come to Newing­ton, not much above a stones cast from the high way on the right hand as you come from Sittingborne, there is a field, out of which, in a very little compasse of ground, have bene taken out by digging within these few yeares Roman pots and Vrnes, almost of all seyzes and fashions, and in number very many: some thousands, I have beene told upon the place; but many hundreds, I am sure I may say, and speake within compasse. And though so many have already beene found, and carried way, yet doth the field afford them still (as I am told) plentifully enough now and then, according as you prove either skilfull or lucky in the digging. The figures of some of them I have here caused to be represented to the Reader.

The first and greatest, with an Inscription graven and [...]tt in about the neck of it SEVERIANVS, &c. was above a yeare ago by the pious and ingenuous Vicar of that Parish, M. Henry Dearing, bestowed upon me, which I keepe as a great Treasure: as also was the last not long after, with the cover of it ouer it, so severally represented of purpose, that the forme of either might the better ap­peare. The words of the Inscription of that first (as neere as they could bee imitated) are these:

[inscription on urn]
[depiction of urns]

In the writing of which [...] although something may be observed not ordinarie, as G [...] for Olla; and those kind of A. and L. &c. yet is there nothing so singular, but a learned antiquarie well versed in [...]ruter's Thesaurus of Inscriptions, will soone find examples of it. As for the sense and meaning of the words, though not so obvious perchance as might bee wished, yet must I (because few words will not serve) suspend my opinion till some sitter opportunitie. That in the middle, with the Inscription COCCILLIM, was by the meanes of a worthy fiend, M. Dr. Winston, (that great ornament of his pro­fession) procured unto me from the Right Honourable (for his worth, and love to learning as well as by his place) Richard, Earle of Pordand, Lord High Treasurer of England, &c. whome, with some other rare antiquities it was sent unto, some yeares ago. I was desirous to com­pare these that I had (for the Inscriptions sake especially) with some others of the same kind. But I find this diffe­rence, that whereas mine were much perished and worne by age. such was the brightnesse and smoothnesse of this middle, (of the cover of it I meane, which is of a redd colcureth earth) as that it rather resembled pure Corrall, then ordinarie red earth: and as for the letters of the In­scription, that they were not as mine widely graven in with the hand, but in the same mould, and at the same time when the cover it selfe was formed, very artificially printed, or imbossed rather: as by these figures, that are represented, you may in part perceive. Since that, when I passed last by Newington coming from London, among many other fragments of antiquitie in M. Dearings gardin I found the peec [...] of just such an other Cover (but that the colour of it is nothing so fresh) with this Inscription in the middle likewise, PRISCIAN. Now as the multitude of these Newington urnes (for I doe not remember that ever so many in so narrow a compasse of ground were founds is observable; so is the manner of their laying in the [Page 34]ground. They that have been present often at their digging up, have observed, that where one great Vrne is found, di­vers lesse vessels are; some within the great, some about it: all coverd either with a proper cover of the same earth and making as the pott it selfe is; or more coursely, but very closely stopped up with other earth. Of all those small vessels of what fashion soever that are found either in or about these urnes, I know no other use (to satisfie in some part their curiositie, that wonder at them when they see them) that was ordinarie among the Romans, but either to conteine some fragrant odoriferous liquor, and durable confection; or that libatie of wine and milke that they used about their dead; or lastly (not to speake here of those burning lampes that have beene found in some ancient urnes and monuments, which so many have largely written and disputed of) to receive and preserve the teares that were shed by the friends of the deceased for greefe of their death. As for the difference of the greater & the lesser urnes, Fabricius in his Roma, and Marlianus in his topogra­phicall description of the same, are of opinion, that when urnes of different bignes are found in the same place, the greater were for the greater and richer, as the masters and Patroni; and the lesser, for the poorer, and inferiour, as the servants and clientes.

In things of this nature, which were I meane, altoge­ther arbitrarie, there is no question but different fashions were used in different places; yea and likely in the same place, as every mans particular conceit, or humor served him. And therefore it were hard to determine any thing as certainly, and generally true. But as for these N. urnes, this seemes to have beene the custome there used. One great urne was appointed to containe the bones and ashes of all one, either houshould or kindred. As often therefore as any of them dyed, so often had they recourse unto the common urne, which so often was uncovered. To prevent [Page 35]this I find that the fashion hath beene in some places, to lett in the ashes through some holes made and fitted for that purpose. See Gruter fol. 814. Now besides the great and common urne, it is likely that every particular person that dyed, had some lesse urne or vessell, particularly dedi­cated to his owne memorie; whereby both the number of the deceased, and the parties themselves might the bet­ter bee remembred. There might bee also another use of these lesser pots, in my judgement very necessary, and that is, that by them the common great Urnes, might the better bee knowne and discerned one from another; which being so neare, in so small a compasse of ground, and not much unlike one another, might otherwise easily be mis­taken. And this is the more likely, because of those many hundreds that have beene taken up of the lesser sort, scarce have there beene found any, of one and the same making, I heare not of any thing that hath hitherto beene found, in these Newington urnes besides bones, and ashes; and sometimes cleere water. And so doe I reade of urnes or Earthen vessels plenis limpidissimâ aquâ, that have bene found elsewhere, as that which is mentioned in Gruterus fol. 927. I doubt not but many would be glad (as well as I) to know certainly what this place hath formerly beene. But alas! how should wee (who are of yesterday, & know nothing) without the helpe of ancient records, recall the memorie of things forgotten so many hundred of yeares agoe? Thus much wee may certainly enough conclude: First, from the multitude of these urnes, that it was once a common burying place for the Romans. Secondly, from the Historie of the Romās in this land, that no urne is there found, but is 1200. or 1300 Yeares old, at the least: so many ages of men have these poore earthen vessels (of so much better clay for durance then human bodies are,) outlasted both the makers of them, and the persons to whose me­mory they were consecrated. Lastly, from the place, which is upon an ascent (and for a good way beyond, hilly;) not [Page 36]farre from the Sea, and neere the high way; wee may af­firme in all probabilitie, that it was once the feate of a Ro­man station. If any man can teach me more of it. I shall heartily thanck him. Since this was written, I made another journey to the place and spent some time there in digging, but with no successe. However, that I might not returne home emptie, the same M. Dearing gave me a piece of urne, which hath this inscription, FVL LINVS.

B. VI. n. XXXVII. As that vile and ridiculous verse] Chrysippus his owne words and Plutarchs censure upon them you may reade in Plutarch [...]: wherby it appeares that Chrysippus his word was not [...], as wee have it here, but [...].

Booke. VIII. n. 1. Contrary to that perfection of life] [...] (saith Epictetus in Arrianus lib. 4.) [...] The profession of a Philosopher is, not to sinne: and in the same chapter shall you finde, [...], exploded, as implying a flat contradiction. And now here will I performe, P. 13. what in my Praeface I did pro­mise for the more full and perfect explication of this word [...]. That the immortality of the soule, and the re­ward of the good and bad after this life was never more stoutly maintained by any of all the Heathens, then by Pla­to, is full well knowne and acknowledged by all. But it is objected, that this sound and true Tenet, he by many odd fictions of his owne, and ridiculous descriptions of the torments of the wicked after this life, hath much cor­rupted & adulterated. One thing especially, though by more objected against him, Ihcodor. yet by one Greec Father specially is much exaggerated, that in a place where hee treatch of the reward of the just and unjust after this life, he should there propose unto his Philosophers as their best reward for their justice and piety, the metompsycosis and transmu­tation of their soules into bees and ants, and such like; a [Page 37]thing so straunge and ridiculous even to conceive, that I cannot but wonder, how they that could beleeve any such thing of Plato, could in other places find in their hearts so highly to extoll, and so absolutely to prefer him before all other Philosophers that ever were. But as for his many relations, and strange descriptions both of the manner and place of torments after this life, I will not take upon mee to excuse him. Only this I will say, that he professing in so many places, that what hee related in this kinde, he nei­ther beleeved himselfe, nor required of any that they should beleeve; and that he was well content, that such and such relations as these, should goe for old womens tales, for that in very deed they were no better; and that all that hee stood upon, was, That men might certainly bee perswaded, that the soule was immortall, and that there was a reward for the just after this life; but as for the rest, whether these very things or somewhat ęquivalent were beleeved, untill they had more certaine information was to him indifferent: I doe not see, what could well bee ex­pected more from an Heathen. And hee that shall compare those many descriptions of Hell and Purgatorie, which are to bee found in bookes written many hundred yeares agoe, with his; will cerrainly judge, that either Plato was not much amisse, or that many Christians have deserved farr more blame then hee. And I further thinke that Plato might in this case with as much reason, to maintaine a­mong the vulgar an opinion of the immortality of the soule and of a judgement after this life, make use of old womens tales; as the Angelicall Doctor against some Fathers, who affirme the contrary, doth take upon him to maintaine; that ignis inferni, ejusdem est speciei cum igne nostro, Supplem. 3. part. q. 97. Art. 6. because Aristotle hath written, that omnis aqua omni aquae est idem specie. And as for that which Plato writes concerning the transformation of worldly carnall mens soules, according to Pythagoras doctrine; it is true, that Pythagoras and his opinions being in great esteeme among the people, Plato [Page 38]not knowing himselfe what certainly to affirme of the manner of their punishment after their death, was very in­different, whether this or that were beleeved, so some­what were beleeved; and therefore proposes sometimes one opinion, some times another. But as for the reward of the just and godly, it is an intolerable mistake. For in that very place which is alleadged, he plainely saies that the true Philosophers after their death [...], are received into the communion and society of the Gods, and are transformed into their very natures. And though it cannot bee doubted, who they are that Plato calls Philo­sophers, they being so often and so amply described by Him; yet to make the case clearer, I will produce his de­scription of them in that very place: [...], &c. All true Philo­sophers abstaine from all carnall lusts and concupiscences, &c. They feare not the ruine of their goods and howses, nor pover­ty as other ordinary men, and such as are addicted to wealth and riches; They feare not the reproach and dishonour of a pri­vate idle life, as they that hunt after honour and glory; for they purposely avoide all such things, &c. The ground (and yet no ground at all, had he beene but looked upon:) of the mistake, (as appeares by them who have objected this unto him) is, that Plato setting downe the severall trans­formations of worldly men, according to their severall dispositions and employments during their life; saith that [...] &c. by which words of [...]. &c. he was mistaken as though he had meant them, whom he usually calls Philo­sophers, which in many respects was a very grosse mistake. For first, as was said in the Praeface, it was not the love [Page 39]or exercise of vertue alone, that made a Philosopher, as they meant it; but the love of a vertue [...]; and so distinguished them from politick worldly men, who (not to speake of the vaine glorious:) often exercise justice, & many other vertues, not out of any love to them, but be­cause, as the times are, it may bee most advantageous for them, to shew themselves in their actions just and righ­teous. And from the Epicuraeans, who though they ac­knowledged not divine providence, nor immortality of the soule, and proposed vnto themselves pleasure as the only end of their lives; yet maintained (most of them) that they that were [...], or, lovers of pleasure, must of ne­cessity bee, [...] or, lovers of justice: and that [...], or, without vertue it was not possible for a man to live in true pleasure. And certaine it is that the Epicureans have written as many excellent bookes to exhort men to vertue, & for the most part, in the sight of the world lived as well as any of any other sect: so that as it was said of the Stoicks (for they were most of them notable hypocrites) that they did [...], of the Epicuraeans it was sayd, that they did [...]. Then it was further to bee observed that Plato doth not say [...] absolutely, but, [...]; nor [...] absolutely, but, [...]: by which words hee can­not be understood to meane others, then those, whom in other places he calls [...]; men that interessed them­selves in publike affaires and in the government of the commonwealth; of which kinde of men hee in many pla­ces (as things then stood) maintained that they could not possibly bee Philosophers: though otherwise (as all know) those commonwealths hee pronounced most happy, which were governed by them that were. But that which plainly pats all out of doubt, and makes the mistake in a manner inexcusable, is, that Plato after these words, presently addes [...]: and in the words immediately following, setts downe those that he calls Philosophers, as men of a quite different sect & profession; which they that object this place vnto him, confound with the former.

I am glad I have had occasion here in this subject to do Plato some right; a man, if ever Heathen was (as Plutarch somwhere of Socrates [...]; & I shall (when occasion serves) as gladly do it in many others, wherein he is as wrongfully mistaken. However that which hath now made mee the more willing to say so much in his de­fence, is partly that our Antoninus might the better be un­derstood as often as he useth these words Philosophy and Philosophers; and partly that some passages of his, other­wise obscure, compared with this of Plato, with that which hath been sayd upon it, might be made plaine and easie. See B. III. n. 17. B. VIL. n. 37. B. II. n. 28. &c. Neither will this interpretation of these words Philosopher and Philosophie, only be usefull in the reading of this Antoni­nus and other Heathens; but of ancient Fathers also, by whome they have been used in the same sense; but espe­cially by Saint Chrysostome; as where he saith, that [...], that a man is bound to a great deale more Philosophy since Christ, then they were under the Law; that the Philosophy of the Gospell is most perfect: and many such other speeches, which he useth almost in every page.

B. X. n. X. And appland themselves for their valiant acts against the Sarmate.] Great was the glory of these warres, equalled by good Historians to the greatest conquests of the Romans. Bellum quantum nulla unquam momoria fuit, say some of them. And by the same Historians, is all the honour and glory of these warres, next unto God (whose providence in some particular passages of this expedition is acknowledged both by Heathens and Christians, to have beene very extraordinary, and indeed miraculous. (See Note 2. upon B. 1.) adscribed to Antoninus his great valour and wisedome; who himselfe was present in person all the while for many yeares together. Yet so little did Antoninus take upon himselfe of all that he had deserved, that as by the Heathens hee is often stiled verecundus Im­perator, so by Orosius the Spanish Priest, and Historio­grapher, who lived in Saint Augustines dayes, for this very [Page 41]reason hee is called, gravissimus & modostissimus Im­perator.

B. X. n. 33. What [then] is it, that may upon this present occasion.] Because the coherence of these wordes with the former (grounded by me upon B. IV. n. 21.) will, I feare, be obscure unto many, I rather wish for plainnesse sake, I had begun here a new number, and had expressed the sense thus: [Wouldest thou now be happy?] Do that and speake that whatsoever it be, that may now upon this present occasion, according to best reason and discretion either be said or done; (For whatsoever it be, it is in thy power either to do it, or to say it, and therefore seake not any pretences, as though thou wert bindred:) and thou hast thy wish. For untill such time that thou bee so minded, and affected, as that what pleasure is unto the voluptuous, the same thing bee unto thee to do in every thing that presents itselfe, what­soever may bee done conformably and agreably to the proper constitution of man, thou wilt never cease groaning and com­plaining. Thou must therefore [if ever thou wilt be happy.] account that pleasure, whatsoever is bee that thou mayest do &c. See B. III. n. 13. B. VIII. n. 30. B. IX. n. 5.24. as also B. VI. n. 2. the last words; which because they there were forgottē by me, I will here set them downe: [...]: dutiesand actions of our lives. [Whensoe­ver then the time of that dutie shall come,] then alsoe may it suffice thee [to make thee happy,] that thou doe well acquit thyselfe of that present dutie. [or that the present time is spent by thee upon a good action.]

B. X. n. XXXVI. What then should any man desire, &c. Neverthelesse,] Did ever a more meeke soule concurre, with so valiant and couragious a disposition? But these per­chance, were but his intentions; perchance, not so much as intentions, but bare speculative Meditations. If that bee true which Historians of best account relate concerning his son Commodus, that he hast ened his Fathers death, &c. it will appeare, that as he prooved a true prophet in regard of others, so in regard of himselfe hee approved himselfe in his death as true, and prositable a Teacher; yea that his [Page 42]practice in this very particular, rather went beyond his vowes and meditations, then came short of them.

B. XI. n. III. Violenty and passionately set upon opposition as Christians are wont,] Gr. [...], &c. It was an error of the Stoi ks (forsaking herein the more sound doctrine of ancienter Philosophers, as Plato, Aristotle, and others:) that in some cases it was not only lawfull, but also laudable for a man to make himselfe away. I do not find that our Antoninus doth any where absolutely and directly oppose this error; but this I find and any man may observe that shall read him, that in many places hee doth restraine the case with such limitations and restrictions, as might seeme in some manner equivalent to a plaine and direct opposi­tion. However, I speake not this to excuse him, but that it shall be free for me for any man to judge him or his opi­nions, as they shall see occasion. The reason that mooves me to take here more particular notice of his opinion in this point, then I do in many others of no lesse moment, is, partly because Antoninus, though he often toucheth upon it, yet every where he doth it so breefly and obscurely, that his maine drift and intention I feare will not so easily be discovered by many: and partly, because I shall at once both remove from Antoninus the crime and imputation of being the author of a most haynous and fowle slander con­cerning the Christians, and vindicate those primitive god­ly Christians innocencie from the malice or ignorance of Heathenish tongues. Antoninus then, you must know, was of opinion that they were much to blame, who either pas­sionatly, or inconsideratly (for to these two we may re­ferre all his other exceptions by him inculcated in divers places:) did at any time part with their lives; and in steed of these requireth and presseth often these two, rationally; and calmely; or meekely. For the first, [...], &c. It is the part of a wise man, &c. B. IX. n. 3. [...], not comtemptibly, or scornfully; [...], not angrily, or passionately, saith he elsewhere [Page 43]to the same purpose, and inculcats the word [...]: calmly, & meekly so often, that were it not so good a word as it is, hardly would any man have the patiēce to reade it so often as he repeates it. But much more shall wee be induced to beare with Antoninus his many repetitions in this kind, if wee further consider, that all that hee did aime at by all these words, was meerly to take downe the pride and haughtie spirit of the common Stoicks of his dayes, and before. Many of whom both by their owne practise, and by their doctrine and exhortations, did teach a man generally upon all occasions, but in mat­ter of death especially, rather to bee desperatly stout and resolute; then rationally and really wise: which made Antoninus in almost all his exhortations and instructions so carefully to inculcat humilitie and a meeke spirit. [...]. Give what thou wilt, and take away what thou wilt, &c. B. X. n. 16. They that are any thing acquainted with Senecas stile and genius of writing, will easily make a Comment upon this. But not to go from this very sub­ject of death, that we are now upon, how does he set out his Cato, his great and almost only patterne of wisedome? Tam (saith he) non tantum Caesari, sed sibi iratus, nudas in vulnus manus egit, & genero sum illum contemptoremque om­nis potentiae spiritum non emisit, sed ejecit, &c. Epist. 24. Is this to dye like a Philosopher or a wise man, or rather like a desperat wretch? If any man shall answer for S. that hee wrote this as an Orator rather then a Philosopher, I grant indeede that it was wit that he affected more then sound wisedome, (in this and many such passages I meane:) but yet it is in the person of a Philosopher that he speakes it; & whether it were a good Orators part to adscribe such a passionat (that I say not desperat;) & discontented end to such a perfect wise man, as he would have Cato reputed, I leave to others to judge.

The other maine condition that Antoninus doth generally [Page 44]stand upō (as hath been said) is, rationally, or, not inconsideratly. A man may undervalue life as well as overprize it. It was Aristotles opinion that a man [...], the more vertuous he is, and the better furnished with all manner of rare perfections, the more unwilling he must needs be to dye. And certainly according to trueth and sound Philosophie, for a man to contemne life, and either in a meer bravado (as many duellists, and conten­tions persons often do:) to cast it away; or otherwise easily and slightly upon no ground of sound reason and good rati­ocination, to part with it, must needs be the highest degree of madnes & meere brutishnes, that can bee conceived. As on the other side, [...](as Epictetus upon this occasion speaketh:) when apparant reason doth induce us for some greater good, (as either for a better life, or for the performance of some duty which in reason ought to be dearer unto us then life:) not to regard it, for a man then through either feare of death or love of this world, to linger and to draw back, is great basenesse and greater folly. As for that Antoninus doth here alleage the Christi­ans as an exemple of that phrenzie that bee doth taxe and reproove; the ground of it is, the servent zeale of the primitive Christians, whole love to Christ was such, that they not onely were content to suffer for him, when they were called to it, but even so longed to dye for him, that they could hardly by the Church Canons and discipline provided in that behalf be restrained from offering them­selves to death, & being their owne accusers & promooters. In so much that in Africa at a certaine time when they flocked by multitudes to the Inquisitors or Judges, the Go­vernour of that Province amazed cryed out, O wretched creatures, if you must needs dye, have you no halters or prae­cipices at home? as is recorded by Tertull. ad Scap. last chapter. And though this course was by the better learned and more sober praelats inhibited and restrained, yet such was commonly their constancie and their readines to death whensoever they were apprehended and condemned by their persecuters, Yea their joy and exultation such, ( Deo [Page 45]gratias, or, God be praised, was their common and solemne word, when their sentence was read;) that that alone was sufficient to a [...]e their enemies, and to make them thi [...] very strangely of them. Neither indeed were the Christians better knowne unto the Heathens by any other propertie then this, that they were a kind of people, that did not re­gard their lives. Before Antoninus, Arrianus had already mentioned them upon the same occasion. For lib. 4. c. 7. [...] treating of an undaunted disposition, not ca­pable of any feare or terror, [...], &c. To him, (saith he) that stands so affected, what Tyrant, what officers, what swords can be dreadfull? Or shal it be so that some through meere mad­nes; others by use and custome, as the Galilaeans, can bee brought to that passe, that they shall feare nothing; and shall not reason and sound ratiocination, &c. I know these words are somewhat otherwise interpreted by others, who re­ferre both [...] and [...] to Christians; but if the whole passage be well considered, it will appeare otherwise, espe­cially if it be compared with Senecas last words of his Ep. 36. which are these, Denique finem faciam si hoc unum ad­jecer [...], nec infantes, nec pueros, nec mente lapsos timere mor­tem; & esse turpissimum, si cam securitatem nobis ratio non praestat, ad quam stultitia perducit. Which words of Seneca I produce here the more willingly, because they may also serve to give light to another place of Antoninus lib. v. n. 1 [...]. if any shall take the paines to compare them. As for that Arrianus calls the Christians Galilaeans, he doth but as many others did; as Lucian by name (if he be the authour of that Dialogue concerning S. Paul, which goeth under his Name:) and Julian the Apostat, as all men know. This readines then and alacritie of these godly Christians to seale their profession with their blood, so knowne and prooved everie where, was nevertheles so much mistaken and misinterpreted, as that upon a supposition that it had no ground in reason (as Anton you see, doth here alleage:) [Page 46]it was commonly termed by the Heathens, pervicacie and obstinatnes. Obstinatio indeed was the very word. Illa ipsa Obstinatio quam exprobratis, saith Tertull. towards the end of his Apologeticus. and ad Nationes lib. 1. c. 18. Reliquum Obstinationis in illo capitulo collocatis, quod ne (que) gladios, ne­que cruces, neque bestias vestras; non ig [...]em, non tormenta ob duritatem ac contemptum mortis animo recusemus, &c. And before him Plinie in his Epistle de Christianis written to Traianus the Emperour, Neque enim dubitabam qualecun (que) esset quod faterentur, pervicaciam certe & inflexibilem ob­stinationem debere puniri. Seneca also, though not of the Christians particularly he, yet in the same sense doth use the word obstinatio, in his 76. Epist. by which passages it doth appeare how happily Xylander, professing what he doth in his Notes, did hitt upon this word in his Transla­tion, then which hee could never have found a more fitt & proper, had he sought never so long. But some Interpre­tors of Tertull. it seemes did not well understand it in his de Spectac. first chapter, where he saith, Sunt qui existiment Christianum, expeditum morti genus ad hanc Obstinationem abdicatione voluptatum erudiri, &c. who note that Tertull. doth there use Obstinatio in a good sense for constantia; whereas he useth it in no other sense then the Heathens did, that objected it unto them; and it is as from them that he speakes it, as if hee said, ad hanc quam nobis objicitis, or, ex­probratis (as elsewhere) obstinationem, &c. The word [...] here used by Anton. will I thinck hardly be found in any other Greec author in this sense, a word neverthe­lesse (as all his are) as elegant and proper as may be: impor­ting as much in things civill, as [...] doth in things naturall. That which S. Basill doth elegantly call [...] is much to the same purpose. Antoninus doth use the word againe (but in the Verbe there, as others use it also: in the same sense, B. VIII. n 46. speaking of the li­bertie of the will of man, [...] (saith he) [...], &c. Remember that thy mind, &c.

FINIS.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this EEBO-TCP Phase II text, in whole or in part.