Book Nine

He who does wrong commits an impiety. For since the Nature of the Whole has framed rational beings for one another's sake, so as to help one another according to desert but in no way to harm, he who transgresses her will plainly commits an impiety against the most venerable of the gods. And the liar too is impious toward the same goddess; for the Nature of the Whole is the nature of the things that are, and the things that are stand in kinship with all that exists. Moreover, she is named Truth, and is the first cause of all that is true. He, then, who lies of his own will is impious, in so far as by deceiving he does wrong; and he who lies against his will, in so far as he is at variance with the Nature of the Whole, and in so far as he brings disorder by fighting against the nature of the universe. For he fights against it who is carried, of himself, toward what is contrary to the truth; for he had received from nature the starting-points, and, having neglected them, he is now unable to distinguish the false from the true. And again, he who pursues pleasures as goods, and flees pains as evils, is impious. For such a man must needs often find fault with the common nature, as apportioning something not according to desert to the bad and the good — since the bad are often in the midst of pleasures and acquire the things that make them, while the good fall in with pain and the things that make it. Further, he who fears pains will one day fear some of the things that must come to pass in the universe, and this is already impious; and he who pursues pleasures will not refrain from doing wrong, and this is plainly impious. But toward those things to which the common nature is indifferent — for she would not have made both, were she not indifferent to both — toward these those too who would follow nature, being of one mind with her, must be indifferent. Whoever, then, is not himself indifferent toward pain and pleasure, death and life, fame and obscurity, which the Nature of the Whole uses indifferently, plainly commits an impiety. And by saying that the common nature uses these indifferently, I mean that they befall indifferently, in due sequence, the things that come to be and follow upon them, by some ancient impulse of providence, according to which, from some beginning, she set out upon this ordering of things, having conceived certain principles of what should be, and marked off generative powers of substances, changes, and successions of this kind.

It were the part of a more gracious man to depart from among men having had no taste of falsehood, of all hypocrisy, of luxury, and of pride. But to breathe out one's last when sated with these things is the next best course. Or have you chosen to settle down with vice, and does not even experience yet persuade you to flee from the plague? For the corruption of the mind is a plague far worse than any such ill-tempering and alteration of this enveloping air. The one is a plague of living creatures, as living creatures; the other a plague of men, as men.

Do not despise death, but be content with it, as one of the things that nature wills. For such as it is to be young and to grow old, to grow up and to come to one's prime, to cut teeth and grow a beard and turn grey, to beget, to conceive, and to bring forth, and all the other natural workings that the seasons of life bring — such is dissolution too. It is, then, the part of a man who has reasoned things out not to be heedless, headstrong, or scornful toward death, but to await it as one of the workings of nature; and as you now await the time when the child shall come forth from your wife's womb, so look for the hour in which your poor soul shall fall out of this husk. But if you wish for a homely rule that touches the heart, nothing will make you so content with death as the marking of those objects from which you are about to be parted, and the characters with which your soul will no longer be entangled. For you must by no means be offended with them, but care for them and bear with them gently; yet remember that your release will not be from men who share your principles. For this alone, if anything, could hold you back and keep you in life, were it permitted to live among those who had acquired the same principles. But as it is, you see how great is the weariness of the discord of living together, so that you may say: "Come quickly, O death, lest perchance I too forget myself."

He who does wrong does wrong to himself; he who does injustice does it to himself, making himself bad.

Often he does wrong who does not do something, not only he who does something.

It is enough that your present opinion be one that grasps the truth, your present act one for the common good, your present disposition one content with all that befalls from the cause outside.

Blot out the impression; check the impulse; quench desire; keep the ruling faculty in your own power.

Among the irrational creatures one soul is distributed; among rational beings one intelligent soul is apportioned: just as there is one earth of all that is earthy, and we see by one light, and breathe one air, all of us that have sight and life.

All things that share in something common hasten toward what is of their own kind. All that is earthy inclines toward earth; all that is watery flows together; the airy likewise, so that they need barriers and force to keep them apart. Fire rises upward by reason of the elemental fire, but is so ready to be kindled along with every fire here that even all material a little drier is easily kindled, because there is less mingled in it to hinder kindling. And so too everything that partakes of the common intelligent nature hastens likewise, or even more, toward what is akin to it; for the more excellent it is beyond the rest, by so much the readier is it to blend and to mingle with its own kind. At once, then, among the irrational, there were found swarms and herds and the rearing of young and a kind of love; for there were already souls there, and the binding power was found heightened in the more excellent, as it was not in plants, or stones, or wood. And among rational beings there were found commonwealths, friendships, households, assemblies, and, in wars, treaties and truces. And among things still more excellent, a kind of unity subsisted even between things far apart, as among the stars; so that the ascent to the more excellent could work sympathy even in things separated. See, then, what now comes to pass: for the intelligent beings alone have now forgotten their eagerness and inclination toward one another, and here alone the flowing-together is not seen. Yet, flee as they may, they are caught up nonetheless; for nature prevails. You will see what I mean if you watch closely; for one would sooner find some earthy thing touching nothing earthy than a man wholly severed from man.

Both man and God and the universe bear fruit; each bears it in its own seasons. If usage has, strictly speaking, worn the word smooth for the vine and the like, that is no matter. Reason too has its fruit, both common and proper, and there come from it other things such as reason itself is.

If you can, teach men better; but if not, remember that kindness was given you for this. The gods too are kind to such men, and even work together with them in some things, toward health, toward wealth, toward fame — so good are they. And it is in your power too; or tell me, who is hindering you?

Labour, not as one wretched, nor as one wishing to be pitied or admired; but will this one thing only: to be moved and held in check as the reason of the commonwealth requires.

Today I escaped from every trouble — or rather, I cast out every trouble; for it was not outside, but within, in my own opinions.

All these things are familiar by experience, of a day in their duration, sordid in their matter; all is now as it was in the days of those whom we have buried.

Things stand outside the door, by themselves, knowing nothing of themselves and pronouncing nothing about themselves. What, then, pronounces about them? The ruling faculty.

Not in being acted upon, but in acting, lies the good and evil of the rational and social being; just as neither his virtue nor his vice lies in being acted upon, but in acting.

To the stone thrown up there is no evil in coming down, nor any good in being thrown up.

Pass within, into their ruling faculties, and you will see what judges you fear, and what manner of judges they are even concerning themselves.

All things are in change; and you yourself are in continual alteration and, in a way, in decay; and so is the whole universe.

Another's fault you must leave there with him.

The ending of an activity, the rest of an impulse and an opinion, is, as it were, their death — and no evil. Pass now to the ages of life — childhood, boyhood, youth, old age; for the change of each of these too is a death. Was there anything dreadful in it? Pass now to the life under your grandfather, then to that under your mother, then to that under your father; and finding many other dissolutions, changes, and endings, ask yourself: was there anything dreadful? So, then, neither is the ending and rest and change of your whole life anything dreadful.

Hasten to your own ruling faculty, and to that of the Whole, and to this man's. To your own, that you may make it a just mind; to that of the Whole, that you may remember of what you are a part; to this man's, that you may consider whether it is ignorance or design, and at the same time reckon that he is your kinsman.

As you yourself are a part that completes a civic system, so let every act of yours be one that completes the civic life. Whatever act of yours, then, has no reference, near or far, to the social end, this tears your life apart and does not let it be one, and is seditious — as in a community the man who, for his own part, stands aloof from such concord.

Children's tantrums and playthings, and "little souls bearing corpses," so that the tale of the Descent into the Dead comes home to us more vividly.

Go to the quality of the cause, and, marking it off from the material, contemplate it; then mark off also the time, the utmost that this thing of such-and-such a quality is by nature fitted to subsist.

You have endured countless troubles through not being content with your ruling faculty doing the things for which it was framed. But enough.

When another blames you, or hates you, or men utter such things, go to their poor souls, pass within, and see what manner of men they are. You will see that you need not be anxious that they should hold some opinion or other about you. Yet you must be kindly toward them; for by nature they are friends, and the gods too help them in all manner of ways, through dreams and oracles — and that, too, in the very things about which they are concerned.

The cycles of the universe are the same, up and down, from age to age. And either the mind of the Whole sets itself in motion toward each particular thing — and if this is so, accept what it sets in motion; or it set itself in motion once, and the rest follows by consequence — and why should you be anxious about this? For in a manner the universe is either atoms or an indivisible whole. In sum: if it is God, all is well; if it is at random, do not you too be at random. Soon earth will cover us all; then earth too will change, and those things will change to infinity, and again these to infinity. For one who reflects on the wave upon wave of changes and alterations, and on their swiftness, will despise everything mortal.

The substance of the Whole is a winter torrent; it bears all things along. How cheap, then, are these little men who busy themselves with affairs of state and, as they suppose, act like philosophers — full of snot! Man, what then? Do what nature now requires; set about it, if it is granted you, and do not look round to see whether anyone will know. Do not hope for Plato's Republic, but be content if the smallest thing goes forward, and reflect how small a matter even the outcome of that is. For who will change men's principles? And without a change of principles, what is there but the slavery of men who groan and pretend to obey? Go on now, and tell me of Alexander and Philip and Demetrius of Phalerum. They shall see to it, if they saw what the common nature willed, and schooled themselves; but if they played the tragedian, no one has condemned me to imitate them. The work of philosophy is simple and modest; do not lead me away into solemn humbug.

To survey from above the countless herds, the countless rites, the voyaging of every kind in storms and calms, and the differences among things coming into being, joined together, and passing away. Reflect too on the life lived long ago by others, and the life to be lived after you, and the life lived now among the barbarian nations; and how many do not even know your name, and how many will very soon forget it, and how many who perhaps praise you now will very soon blame you; and how neither memory is a thing worth speaking of, nor fame, nor anything else whatever.

Calm, as regards what befalls from the cause outside; and justice, in the things done by the cause that proceeds from you: that is, an impulse and action ending in this very thing, to act for the common good, as being according to your nature.

You can strip away many superfluous things that trouble you, things that lie wholly in your opinion; and you will at once make for yourself ample room, by grasping the whole universe in your thought, by reflecting on everlasting time, and by considering the swift change of each particular thing — how brief the span from birth to dissolution, how vast the gulf before birth, and how the time after dissolution is likewise infinite.

All that you see will very soon perish, and those who have watched it perish will themselves very soon perish too; and he who dies in extreme old age will be brought to the same state as he who dies before his time.

What are the ruling faculties of these men, and about what have they been in earnest, and for what do they love and honour? Think that you see their poor souls naked. When they suppose that they do harm by their blame, or benefit by their praise, how great is their conceit!

Loss is nothing other than change. And in this the Nature of the Whole delights, by which all things come to be well, and from everlasting came to be in like kind, and to infinity will be other such things. Why, then, do you say that all things came to be ill, and all things will forever be ill, and that no power, after all, was ever found among so many gods to set these things right, but the universe is condemned to be held fast in unceasing evils?

The rottenness of the material that lies beneath each thing: water, dust, little bones, a stench. Or again: marble is but callosities of the earth, and gold and silver its dregs; the robe is hair, and the purple is blood; and all else is of the same kind. And the breath too is another such thing, changing out of these into these.

Enough of this wretched life, and grumbling, and aping! Why are you troubled? What is new in this? What unsettles you? The cause? Look at it. Or the material? Look at it. Beyond these there is nothing; but become at last, toward the gods too, simpler and better. It is all one whether you survey these things for a hundred years or for three.

If he did wrong, the evil is there, with him. But perhaps he did not do wrong.

Either all things flow from one intelligent source and befall as in one body, and the part must not find fault with what is done for the Whole; or there are atoms, and nothing but a medley and a scattering. Why, then, are you troubled? Say to your ruling faculty: are you dead, are you corrupted, are you turned into a beast, do you play a part, do you herd with the rest, do you graze?

Either the gods can do nothing, or they can do something. If, then, they can do nothing, why do you pray? But if they can, why not rather pray that they grant you neither to fear any of these things, nor to desire any of them, nor to grieve over any of them, rather than that something be present or absent? For surely, if they can work together with men, they can work together toward these things too. But perhaps you will say: "The gods have put these in my own power." Then is it not better to use what is in your power with freedom, than to busy yourself with what is not in your power, in slavery and abjection? And who told you that the gods do not work together with us even in the things in our power? Begin, at all events, to pray for these things, and you will see. The one prays, "How may I lie with that woman?" Do you pray, "How may I not desire to lie with her?" Another, "How may I be rid of that man?" Do you, "How may I not wish to be rid of him?" Another, "How may I not lose my little child?" Do you, "How may I not fear to lose him?" In short, turn your prayers this way, and see what comes of it.

Epicurus says: "In my sickness my conversations were not about the sufferings of my poor body, nor did I talk such things to those who came in, but I went on discussing the chief points of natural philosophy, and was intent on this very thing: how the mind, though sharing in such motions of the poor flesh, may yet remain unperturbed, keeping its own good. Nor did I give the physicians occasion to give themselves airs, as though they were doing something great; but my life went on well and nobly." Do then as he did, in sickness, if you are sick, and in any other circumstance. For not to forsake philosophy in whatever befalls, nor to babble idly with the layman and the man ignorant of nature, is common to every school. Be intent only on what is now being done, and on the instrument by which you do it.

When you are offended at someone's shamelessness, ask yourself at once: can it be, then, that shameless men should not exist in the universe? It cannot. Do not, then, demand the impossible; for this man too is one of those shameless ones who must of necessity exist in the universe. Let the same thought be ready to hand concerning the rogue, the faithless, and everyone who does any wrong whatever; for the moment you remember that the race of such men cannot but exist, you will be kindlier toward each of them. And it is useful, too, to consider at once what virtue nature has given man against this very fault; for she has given gentleness as an antidote against the thankless man, and against another some other power. And in any case it is in your power to teach better the man who has gone astray; for everyone who does wrong misses the mark set before him and has gone astray. And besides, how have you been harmed? For you will find that none of those at whom you are exasperated has done anything of a kind to make your mind worse; and it is here that your evil and your harm have their whole existence. And what is new or strange in it, if the uninstructed man does the deeds of the uninstructed? See whether you ought not rather to blame yourself, that you did not expect this man to do this wrong; for you had the means, drawn from reason, to reflect that it was likely he would do this wrong, and yet, forgetting it, you wonder that he has done wrong. But above all, when you find fault with a man as faithless or ungrateful, turn to yourself; for the fault is plainly your own, whether you trusted that a man of such a disposition would keep faith, or, in granting a favour, did not grant it for its own sake, nor so as to have received your whole reward straightway from the very act. For what more do you want, when you have done a man a good turn? Is it not enough that you have done something according to your nature, but do you seek a reward for it? As though the eye should demand a recompense for seeing, or the feet for walking. For just as these were made for this, and, in working according to their own constitution, have what is their own, so too man, being made by nature to do good, whenever he does something of benefit, or otherwise helpful in things indifferent, has done that for which he was framed, and has what is his own.