i. in the morning when thou findest thyself unwilling to rise, consider

with thyself presently, it is to go about a man's work that i am stirred up. am i then yet unwilling to go about that, for which i myself was born and brought forth into this world? or was i made for this, to lay me down, and make much of myself in a warm bed? 'o but this is pleasing.' and was it then for this that thou wert born, that thou mightest enjoy pleasure? was it not in very truth for this, that thou mightest always be busy and in action? seest thou not how all things in the world besides, how every tree md plant, how sparrows and ants, spiders and bees: how all in their kind are intent as it were orderly to perform whatsoever (towards the preservation of this orderly universe) naturally doth become and belong unto thin? and wilt not thou do that, which belongs unto a man to do? wilt not thou run to do 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 certain stint. but thou guest beyond thy stint, and beyond that which would suffice, and in matter of action, there thou comest short of that which thou mayest. it must needs be therefore, that thou dost not love thyself, for if thou didst, thou wouldst also love thy nature, and that which thy nature doth propose unto herself as her end. others, as many as take pleasure in their trade and profession, can even pine themselves at their works, and neglect their bodies and their food for it; and doest thou less honour thy nature, than an ordinary mechanic his trade; or a good dancer his art? than a covetous man his silver, and vainglorious man applause? these to whatsoever they take an affection, can be content to want their meat and sleep, to further that every one which he affects: and shall actions tending to the common good of human society, seem more vile unto thee, or worthy of less respect and intention?

ii. how easy a thing is it for a man to put off from him all turbulent

adventitious imaginations, and presently to be in perfect rest and tranquillity!

iii. think thyself fit and worthy to speak, or to do anything that is

according to nature, and let not the reproach, or report of some that may ensue upon it, ever deter thee. if it be right and honest to be spoken or done, undervalue not thyself so much, as to be discouraged from it. as for them, they have their own rational over-ruling part, and their own proper inclination: which thou must not stand and look about to take notice of, but go on straight, whither both thine own particular, and the common nature do lead thee; and the way of both these, is but one.

iv. i continue my course by actions according to nature, until i

fall and cease, breathing out my last breath into that air, 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 years i have been provided, both of meat and drink. and lastly, which beareth me that tread upon it, and beareth with me that so many ways do abuse it, or so freely make use of it, so many ways to so many ends.

v. no man can admire thee for thy sharp acute language, such is thy

natural disability that way. be it so: yet there be many other good things, for the want of which thou canst not plead the want or natural ability. let them be seen in thee, which depend wholly from thee; sincerity, gravity, laboriousness, contempt of pleasures; be not querulous, be content with little, be kind, be free; avoid all superfluity, all vain prattling; be magnanimous. doest not thou perceive, how many things there be, which notwithstanding any pretence of natural indisposition and unfitness, thou mightest have performed and exhibited, and yet still thou doest voluntarily continue drooping downwards? or wilt thou say that it is through defect of thy natural constitution, that thou art constrained to murmur, to be base and wretched to flatter; now to accuse, and now to please, and pacify thy body: to be vainglorious, to be so giddy-headed., and unsettled in thy thoughts? nay (witnesses be the gods) of all these thou mightest have been rid long ago: only, this thou must have been contented with, to have borne the blame of one that is somewhat slow and dull, wherein thou must so exercise thyself, as one who neither doth much take to heart this his natural defect, nor yet pleaseth himself in it.

vi. such there be, who when they have done a good turn to any, are ready

to set them on the score for it, and to require retaliation. others there be, who though they stand not upon retaliation, to require any, yet they think with themselves nevertheless, that such a one is their debtor, and they know as their word is what they have done. others again there be, who when they have done any such thing, do not so much as know what they have done; but are like unto the vine, which beareth her grapes, and when once she hath borne her own proper fruit, is contented and seeks for no further recompense. as a horse after a race, and a hunting dog when he hath hunted, and a bee when she hath made her honey, look not for applause and commendation; so neither doth that man that rightly doth understand his own nature when he hath done a good turn: but from one doth proceed to do another, even as the vine after she hath once borne fruit in her own 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, and are in a manner insensible of what they do. 'nay but,' will some reply perchance, 'this very thing a rational man is bound unto, to understand what it is, that he doeth.' for it is the property, say they, of one that is naturally sociable, to be sensible, that he doth operate sociably: nay, and to desire, that the party him self that is sociably dealt with, should be 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 truly what it is that is said, fear not that thou shalt therefore give over any sociable action.

vii. the form of the athenians' prayer did run thus: 'o rain, rain, good

jupiter, upon all the grounds and fields that belong to the athenians.' either we should not pray at all, or thus absolutely and freely; and not every one for himself in particular alone.

viii. as we say commonly, the physician hath prescribed unto this man,

riding; unto another, cold baths; unto a third, to go barefoot: so it is alike to say, the nature of the universe hath prescribed unto this man sickness, or blindness, or some loss, or damage or some such thing. for as there, when we say of a physician, that he hath prescribed anything, our meaning is, that he 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 do we say of such things, that they do happen, or fall together; as of square stones, when either in walls, or pyramids in a certain position they fit one another, and agree as it were in an harmony, the masons say, that they do (sumbainein) as if thou shouldest say, fall together: so that in the general, though the things be divers that make it, yet the consent or harmony itself is but one. and as the whole world is made up of all the particular bodies of the world, one perfect and complete body, of the same nature that particular bodies; so is the destiny of particular causes and events one general 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 (touto eferen autw) 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 physician prescribed. these therefore let us accept of in like manner, as we do those that are prescribed unto us our physicians. for them also in themselves shall we find to contain many harsh things, but we nevertheless, 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 un-pleasing, as tending to that end, to the health and welfare of the universe, and to jove's happiness and prosperity. for this whatsoever it be, should not have been produced, had it not conduced to the good of the universe. for neither doth any ordinary particular nature bring anything to pass, that is not to whatsoever is within the sphere of its own proper administration and government agreeable and subordinate. for these two considerations then thou must be well pleased with anything that doth happen unto thee. first, because that for thee properly it was brought to pass, and unto thee it was prescribed; and that from the very beginning by the series and connection of the first causes, it hath ever had a reference unto thee. and secondly, because the good success and perfect welfare, and 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 anything at all, whereby the coherence, and contiguity as of parts, so of causes, is maintained and preserved. of which certain it is, that thou doest (as much as lieth in thee) cut off, and in some sort violently take somewhat away, as often as thou art displeased with anything that happeneth.

ix. be not discontented, be not disheartened, be not out of hope, if

often it succeed not so well with thee punctually and precisely to do all things according to the right dogmata, but being once cast off, return unto them again: and as for those many and more frequent occurrences, either of worldly distractions, or human infirmities, which as a man thou canst not but in some measure be subject unto, be not thou discontented with them; but however, love and affect that only which thou dust return unto: a philosopher's life, and proper occupation after the most exact manner. and when thou dust return to thy philosophy, return not unto it as the manner of some is, after play and liberty as it were, to their schoolmasters and pedagogues; but as they that have sore eyes to their sponge and egg: or as another to his cataplasm; 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 philosophy requireth nothing of thee, but what thy nature requireth, and wouldest thou thyself desire anything that is not according to nature? for which of these sayest thou; that which is according to nature or against it, is of itself more kind and pleasing? is it not for that respect especially, that pleasure itself is to so many men's hurt and overthrow, most prevalent, because esteemed commonly most kind, and natural? but consider well whether magnanimity rather, and true liberty, and true simplicity, and equanimity, and holiness; whether these be not most kind and natural? and prudency itself, what more kind and amiable than it, when thou shalt truly consider with thyself, what it is through all the proper objects of thy rational intellectual faculty currently 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 obscurity, that unto many philosophers, and those no mean ones, they seemed altogether incomprehensible, and the stoics themselves, though they judge them not altogether incomprehensible, yet scarce and not without much difficulty, comprehensible, so that all assent of ours is fallible, for who is he that is infallible in his conclusions? from the nature of things, pass now unto their subjects and matter: how temporary, how vile are they i such as may be in the power and possession of some abominable loose liver, of some common strumpet, of some notorious oppressor and extortioner. pass from thence to the dispositions of them that thou doest ordinarily converse with, how hardly do we bear, even with the most loving and amiable! that i may not say, how hard it is for us to bear even with our own selves, in such obscurity, and impurity of things: in such and so continual a flux 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 seek after; i cannot so much as conceive for indeed they are things contrary.

x. thou must comfort thyself in the expectation of thy natural

dissolution, and in the meantime 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 do nothing against thine own proper god, and inward spirit. for it is not in any man's power to constrain thee to transgress against him.

xi. what is the use that now at this present i make of my soul? thus

from time to time and upon all occasions thou must put this question to thyself; what is now that part of mine which they call the rational mistress part, employed about? whose soul do i now properly possess? a child's? or a youth's? a woman's? or a tyrant's? some brute, or some wild beast's soul?

xii. what those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are

esteemed good, thou mayest gather even from this. for if a man shall hear things mentioned as good, which are really good indeed, such as are prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude, after so much heard and conceived, he cannot endure to hear 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 hear them mentioned as good, he doth hearken for more. he is well contented to hear, that what is spoken by the comedian, 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 virtues are styled good: but that which is spoken in commendation of wealth, pleasure, or honour, we entertain it only as merrily and pleasantly spoken? proceed therefore, and inquire further, whether it may not be 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 own, (such was their affluence and plenty) so much as a place where to avoid their excrements. whether, i say, those 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 form or matter. 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 mutation be disposed into a certain part of the whole world, and that in time into another part; and so in infinitum; by which kind of mutation, i also became what i am, and so did they that begot me, and they before them, and so upwards in infinitum. for so we may be allowed to speak, though the age and government of the world, be to some certain periods of time limited, and confined.

xiv. reason, and rational power, are faculties which content themselves

with themselves, and their own proper operations. and as for their first inclination and motion, that they take from themselves. but their progress is right to the end and object, which is in their way, as it were, and lieth just before them: that is, which is feasible and possible, whether it be that which at the first they proposed to themselves, or no. for which reason also such actions are termed katorqwseiz to intimate the directness of the way, by which they are achieved. 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 profess any such things. the final ends and consummations of actions are nothing at all to a man's nature. the end therefore of a man, or the summum bonum whereby that end is fulfilled, cannot consist in the consummation of actions purposed and intended. again, 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 condemn them and to stand in opposition with them. neither would he be praiseworthy that can live without them; or he good, (if these were good indeed) who of his own accord doth deprive himself of any of them. but we see contrariwise, that the more a man doth withdraw himself from these wherein external pomp and greatness doth consist, or any other like these; or the better he doth bear with the loss of these, the better he is accounted.

xv. such as thy thoughts and ordinary cogitations are, such will thy

mind be in time. for the soul doth as it were receive its tincture from the fancies, and imaginations. dye it therefore and thoroughly soak it with the assiduity 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. again, that which everything is made for, he is also made unto that, and cannot but naturally incline unto it. that which anything doth naturally incline unto, therein is his end. wherein the end of everything doth consist, therein also doth his good and benefit consist. society therefore is the proper good of a rational creature. for that we are made for society, it hath long since been demonstrated. or can any man make any question of this, that whatsoever is naturally worse and inferior, 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 souls, are better than those that have none? and of those that have, those best that have rational souls?

xvi. to desire things impossible is the part of a mad man. but it is a

thing impossible, that wicked man should not commit some such things. neither doth anything happen to any man, which in the ordinary course of nature as natural unto him doth not happen. again, 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 magnanimity, 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 commended, should be more powerful and effectual than true prudence? as for the things themselves, they touch not the soul, neither can they have any access unto it: neither can they of themselves any ways either affect it, or move it. for she herself alone can affect and move herself, and according as the dogmata and opinions are, which she doth vouchsafe herself; so are those things which, as accessories, have any co-existence with her.

xvii. after one consideration, man is nearest unto us; as we are bound

to do them good, and to bear 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 sun, or the wind, or some wild beast. by some of these it may be, that some operation or other of mine, may be hindered; however, of my mind and resolution itself, 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 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 mind doth turn and convert any impediment whatsoever, to be her aim and purpose. so that what before was the impediment, is now the principal 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 powerful in the world, and

that is it, which makes use of all things, and governs all things. so also in thyself; honour that which is chiefest, and most powerful; and is of one kind and nature with that which we now spake of. for it is the very same, which being in thee, turneth all other things to its own use, and by whom also thy life is governed.

xix. that which doth not hurt the city itself; 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 city 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. again, often meditate how swiftly all things that subsist, and all things that are done in the world, are carried away, and as it were conveyed out of sight: for both the substance themselves, we see as a flood, are in a continual flux; and all actions in a perpetual change; and the causes themselves, subject to a thousand alterations, neither is there anything almost, that may ever be said to be now settled and constant. next unto this, and which follows upon it, consider both the infiniteness of the time already past, and the immense vastness of that which is to come, wherein all things are to be resolved and annihilated. art not thou then a very fool, who for these things, art either puffed up with pride, or distracted with cares, or canst find in thy heart to make such moans as for a thing that would trouble thee for a very long time? consider the whole universe whereof thou art but a very little part, and the whole age of the world together, whereof but a short and very momentary 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! again: another doth trespass against me. let him look to that. he is master of his own disposition, and of his own operation. i for my part am in the meantime in possession of as much, as the common nature would have me to possess: and that which mine own nature would have me do, i do.

xx. let not that chief commanding part of thy soul be ever subject to

any variation through any corporal either pain or pleasure, neither suffer it to be mixed with these, but let it both circumscribe itself, and confine those affections to their own proper parts and members. but if at any time they do reflect and rebound upon the mind and understanding (as in an united and compacted body it must needs;) then must thou not go about to resist sense and feeling, it being natural. however let not thy understanding to this natural sense and feeling, which whether unto our flesh pleasant or painful, is unto us nothing properly, add an opinion of either good or bad and all is well.

xxi. to live with the gods. he liveth with the gods, who at all times

affords unto them the spectacle of a soul, 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 himself) jove hath appointed to every man as his overseer and governor.

xxii. be not angry neither with him whose breath, neither with him whose

arm holes, are offensive. what can he do? such is his breath naturally, and such are his arm holes; 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 himself know, that he by standing near, cannot choose but offend.' and thou also (god bless thee!) hast understanding. let thy reasonable faculty, work upon his reasonable faculty; show him his fault, admonish him. if he hearken unto thee, thou hast cured him, and there will be no more occasion of anger.

xxiii. 'where there shall neither roarer be, nor harlot.' why so? as

thou dost purpose to live, when thou hast retired thyself to some such place, where neither roarer nor harlot is: so mayest thou here. and if they will not suffer thee, then mayest thou leave thy life rather than thy calling, but so as one that doth not think himself anyways wronged. only as one would say, here is a smoke; i will out of it. and what a great matter is this! now till some such thing force me out, i will continue free; neither shall any man hinder me to do what i will, and my will shall ever be by the proper nature of a reasonable and sociable creature, regulated and directed.

xxiv. that rational essence by which the universe is governed, is for

community and society; and therefore hath it both made the things that are worse, for the best, and hath allied and knit together those which are best, as it were in an harmony. seest thou not how it hath sub-ordinated, and co-ordinated? and how it hath distributed unto everything according to its worth? and those which have the pre-eminency and superiority above all, hath it united together, into a mutual consent and agreement.

xxv. how hast thou carried thyself 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 domestics? thy servants? is it so with thee, that hitherto thou hast neither by word or deed wronged any of them? remember withal through how many things thou hast already passed, and how many thou hast been able to endure; so that now the legend of thy life is full, and thy charge is accomplished. again, how many truly good things have certainly by thee been discerned? how many pleasures, how many pains hast thou passed over with contempt? how many things eternally glorious hast thou despised? towards how many perverse unreasonable men hast thou carried thyself kindly, and discreetly?

xxvi. why should imprudent unlearned souls 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 rational essence, that passeth through all things subsisting, and through all ages being ever the same, disposing and dispensing as it were this universe by certain 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 echo? those things which in this life are dearest unto us, and of most account, they are in themselves but vain, putrid, contemptible. the most weighty and serious, if rightly esteemed, but as puppies, biting one another: or untoward children, now laughing and then crying. as for faith, and modesty, and justice, and truth, they long since, as one of the poets hath it, have abandoned this spacious earth, and retired themselves unto heaven. what is it then that doth keep thee here, if things sensible be so mutable and unsettled? and the senses so obscure, and so fallible? and our souls 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 still that time come, what will content thee? what else, but to worship and praise the gods; and to do good unto men. to bear with them, and to forbear to do them any wrong. and for all external things belonging either to this thy wretched body, or life, to remember that they are neither thine, nor in thy power.

xxviii. thou mayest always speed, if thou wilt but make choice 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 souls, as of god, so of men, and of every reasonable creature, first that in their own proper work they cannot be hindered by anything: and secondly, that their happiness doth consist in a disposition to, and in the practice of righteousness; and that in these their desire is terminated.

xxix. if this neither be my wicked act, nor an act anyways depending

from any wickedness of mine, and that by it the public is not hurt; what doth it concern me? and wherein can the public be hurt? for thou must not altogether be carried by conceit and common opinion: as for help thou must afford that unto them after thy best ability, and as occasion shall require, though they sustain damage, but in these middle or worldly things; but however do not thou conceive that they are truly hurt thereby: for that is not right. but as that old foster-father in the comedy, being now to take his leave doth with a great deal of ceremony, require his foster-child's rhombus, or rattle-top, remembering nevertheless that it is but a rhombus; so here also do thou likewise. for indeed what is all this pleading and public 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 esteem of. wilt thou therefore be a fool too? once i was; let that suffice.

xxx. let death surprise rue when it will, and where it will, i may be a

happy man, nevertheless.

for he is a happy man, who in his lifetime dealeth unto himself a happy lot and portion. a happy lot and portion is, good inclinations of the soul, good desires, good actions.