TA EIC EAYTON MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS TO HIMSELF d 'Ep/v\fic Ae BAeV<*c eic rdN MA'PKON Sol Ae, eTneN, & Bfipe, T( KAAAICTON e'Ao'Kei TOY Bfoy TeAoc e?NM ; KA! oc HPCMA Kwra-TaH CO V? 6 *c sr s^ t*l g o -S u-5 S 2 S g ?*? *I3 D. 1. 1 1 8 S U> .l Is ^ is 1^ K }- asl-S^I^ >.<^^< OJ 05 l^l ^^*w u o ^ nS ^ 5 C -^ j_, cJ cts l^? 8 ^| rt a; S-s-l & ^ s . H'iS Jl W lal "if | S i 66 n O tO "H /> rt T3 bJO c S -S J 4 > | | i * . S I 3 i P 1 1 < I all gs Is -- i 1 "| i ^ r s 1 ; I I I I? ji j ^ |* s i ! .1 |>l | l| 1 U ,^^1 S ?^P Sx|=.J^ I 1 I E^.-jQU U O' 00 U 1 i J . S In 1 1 ^ . T3 rt T3 ^.5 2 co 11 Jja 1 s 1 - * Parthian Triumph. Pa Pater Patrice. Marcus forms army. Rome. Advance to A Quadi sue for terms. Summer campaign again: Celebrates funeral of L. Marcomannic Wars (2nd Germanicus. 74). Visit to Rome. Sarmaticus. "S* 2 u D^^XJ -g g? 3I-& a"^ S .S JSH' 1 g ' HHQ Patrice. Administration at Rome. Marcomannic Wars (3rd Aug. M. leaves Rome. March 17. Death of Ma O VQ tA. 06 o\ in M tovo 06 6 o 3? vO *O vO i^ C"*^ Cr ^*Cr I oo oo 3 '3 d F7 cT f w j _o CN C/3 rt V * D Z !* &\\ "8 W -S >-l a 1 1 ^H - I i 11 C Antoninus (1 Commodu r. p3 .5 v^ rz5 ^ 1 ^ *- < -5 * O o g g |( _ M . 3 1 l_l c o J a 3 2 s H-l .S '3 P o ^ -I fi C w 1 < > g u ^ r .2 S (^ ^ *** f ^ g '/,, o5 y) 11 i *^ C/3 fit s S vi- 3 I i x> l > x - 1 3 > xn - 2 9" 6 i. 17. 7 xi. 25. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxiii The virtues sought, the vices eschewed, in range, in treatment, and in distribution of emphasis, presuppose the position of authority. Throughout, men are regarded as recipients, rather than dispensers of kindnesses ; duties to equals, and duties to inferiors monopolise the field ; all coarser and more flagrant forms of vice, or actions that could be called criminal, are merely named as objects of repulsion. The moral distractions and perturbations which he dreads are those which beset power and place and privilege, to disturb serenity of soul. The regards are fixed on 'sins of respectability,' on indolence, impatience, discourtesy, officiousness, 1 and on such more delicate forms of moral delinquency as self- absorption in the press of current duties, 2 as want of moral nerve and allowance of morbid self-distrusts, 3 as uncertainty of purpose, frivolity, and aimlessness 4 of life, or as the intellectual indolence which rushes to hasty conclusions and leaves us at the mercy of unwarranted impressions or desires. The treatment of virtues is no less characteristic and discriminating. Beside the solid virtues and charities incumbent on the ruler, are set the social graces which adorn the gentleman consideration, candour, modest, attentive and intelligent perception, tact and address in conversation ; 5 and the compass of morality is extended to such refinements as cheerfulness in leadership, 6 belief in friends' affection, 7 wise husbandry and just apportionment 8 of powers, careful selection 1 ii. I ; iii. 5. 2 j I2 3 v. 5. 4 i. 15 ; ii. 7, 16, 17 ; vii. 4 ; xi. 21. 5 i. 10 ; vi. 53 ; vii. 4, 30 ; viii. 22, 30 ; xi. 13, 18 (9). 6 iii. 5. 7 i. 14. 8 iii. n ; iv. 32; vii. 3 ; viii. 29, 43. cxxiv INTRODUCTION SECT. among competing claims, 1 reserve of leisure 2 for purposes of self-examination and recreation of the inner life. Leisure as well as labour, thought as well as action, 3 de- portment 4 as well as motive, are scrupulously moralised. Although these finer sensibilities attest the humanis- ing influences of Hellenic culture and good taste, Greek draperies and accent do not obscure the Roman heredity and type. In some sense indeed he is 'the last of the Romans,' the final specimen and representative of the political traditions of Rome. The Western Empire will indeed, largely by acquired momentum and inertia, still last out two centuries, but its few good Emperors will be soldiers of fortune or versatile Orientals. The blood of Marcus was of Spanish and Italian stock, trained in the best traditions of Roman administration. His grandfather, Annius Verus, was Prefect of the City, and three times held the Consulship ; the earliest of Marcus' remembrances was the impression of his dignified official suavity. 5 His father's career 6 was cut short during his tenure of the prastorship. Upon the mother's side, grandfather and great-grandfather 7 were both twice Consul, and from a child he was at home among the best Patrician circles. The Emperor Hadrian, with playful pleasantry, would call him as a little boy Veris- simus 8 instead of Verus. He learned his principles of 1 iv. 24. 2 Cf. e.g. i. 12 ; ii. 5, 7 ; iv. 3, 24 ; vi. II ; viii. 51. 3 i. 3 ; iii. 4. 4 vii. 24, 37, 60; xi. 15. 5 i. i. 6 i. 2. 7 Calvisius Tullus, and Catilius Severus, referred to i. 4. 8 Dio Cass. 69, 21 ; but so too on medal, and in dedication of Justin's First Apology. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxv government from Antoninus, who was par excellence the State official. The Flavian dynasty and Trajan had been Imperial Commanders -in -Chief: Hadrian, by a new conception of the Imperial function, had become the universal ' Visitor ' of his immense domain, mould- ing, comprehending, and unifying the whole on broad Imperial lines. In Antoninus there emerges the new type, the Imperial ' official,' becoming more and more the autocratic chief of a highly-organised bureaucracy, which through its various departments of Civil Law, Exchequer, Public Works, Police, War, Posts, and the like directed the world of provinces from Rome. In this assiduous, watchful, and highly conservative 1 school of statesmanship Marcus was nursed. In boyhood, antiquities and history fascinated his attention, and constant touches reveal the hold these subjects had upon him. The old names, 2 Camillus Caeso Volesus, have a pleasant savour of the past; among the Quadi he deplores that he may not re-read his c deeds of ancient Rome and Greece, garnered for old age ' ; 3 he founds his political ideals upon the patriots of Rome, Cato and Brutus, Thrasea and Helvidius. 4 He had a reverence for old forms and offices and usages; he treated the Senate with punc- tilious respect, 5 exhibiting a ceremonious and almost sentimental deference to prerogatives that were hardly more than titular. Moribus antiquis res stat Romana virisque was his reminder to generals in the field ; and if any- 1 i. 1 6, travTO, Kara ra irdrpLa irpdaauv. 2 iv. 33. 3 iii. 14. 4 i. 14 ; cf. vi. 44. 5 Cf. viii. 30. I cxxvi INTRODUCTION SECT. where in the Thoughts there sounds a ring of martial exhilaration it is associated with the word * Roman.' l He not only gave its Golden Age to Rome, but pushed the empire to its furthest geographical extension. He ' triumphed ' 2 over Parthians in the East, over Germans and Sarmatians in the North ; through fourteen stubborn years of war he held and secured the marches of the Danube ; the Antonine Column is no vain or boastful trophy, it is the monument of victories that secured to the Empire the two last centuries out of which the new order of the world, East and West, was born. Softened and chastened though it is by his age and the circum- stances of life and upbringing, his character is Roman to the core, Roman in resolution and repression, Roman in civic nobility and pride, Roman in tenacity of imperial aim, Roman in respect for law, Roman in self-effacement for service of the State. Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento hae tibi erunt artes pacisque imponere morem, parcere subiectis et debellare superbos. One other trait of temperament is Roman religious- ness of mind. For poetry and literature, Rome borrowed her mythology from Greece ; but for life and conduct, belief centred upon embodiments of the divine as numina, powers and influences rather than persons, regulating all actions and phenomena. In their impersonal ubiquity 1 iii. 5 ; cf. ii. 5. 2 The Parthian triumph the first for sixty years was in 166, with titles Parthicus, Medicus, Pater Patriae ; the Marcomannic, following titles Germanicus and Sarmaticus, in 176. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxvii they seem almost prepared for a creed of pantheistic immanence. In infancy, Vaticanus urged the baby's new-born cry ; Fabulinus prompted his first word ; Cuba rocked his cot. In outgoing and incoming, Iterduca set him on his road and Domiduca gave safe return. On the farm Terminus kept his boundary, Robigo mildewed his crop, Cloacina ordered his drains, Sterquilinus gave virtue to his manure. For Rome, the Fortune or the Safety or the Majesty of the City extended and preserved the Empire ; in house and town, the ancestral Penates of the hearth and the Lares of the streets guarded the intercourse of life ; in the individual breast, a ministering Genius shaped his destinies and responded to each mood of melancholy or of rnirth. Thus all life lay under the regimen of spiritual powers, to be propitiated or appeased by appointed observances and ritual and forms of prayer. To this punctilious and devout form of Paganism Marcus was inured from childhood ; at the vintage festival he took his part in chant and sacrifice ; at eight years old he was admitted to the Salian priesthood ; * he was observed to perform all his sacerdotal functions with a constancy and exactness unusual at that age ; was soon a master of the sacred music; and had all the forms and liturgies by heart.' l Our earliest statue depicts him as a youth offering incense ; and in his triumphal bas- reliefs he stands before the altar, a robed and sacrificing priest. To him ' prayer and sacrifice, and all observances by which we own the presence and nearness of the gods ' are ' covenants and sacred ministries ' admitting to 1 Cf. Capit. 4. In 139, he became Pontifex Maximus, Augur > Quindecemvir Sacris Faciundis, Septemvir Epulonum. cxxviii INTRODUCTION SECT. /^intimate communion with the divine.' 1 This habit of / mind accommodated itself perfectly to Stoic teaching, to / an interpretation of the universe which (in the words of Epictetus) averred that * all earth is crammed with gods \ and spiritual powers.' 2 Stoicism in fact provided an in- ^ telligible theology and theocratic basis for the intricate mechanism of sign and formula and rite, which natural magic had gradually riveted upon a simple, scrupulous, and superstitious folk. Dream and oracle and even ordered coincidences of phrase become channels of spiritual grace and revelation. 3 Philosophy and religion clasp hands as means of reconciliation with God, and deliverance from invisible powers of evil. With the exception, in a sense, of Julian, whose religious revival bordered on caricature, Marcus is the most * god-fearing ' 4 figure in Roman history, and perhaps the only one which can be called devout. He not only inaugurated his campaigns with antique rites and solemn lectisternia, but as Emperor fulfilled his desire of receiving the mystic initiations of Eleusis. And this sense of religion pervades his writing like an atmosphere. The tone is changed from that of earlier Stoicism ; the pantheism is less physical, and the language more theistic. Life is the presence of God ; the course of the world is the evolution 1 vi. 44 ; xii. 5 ; cf. v. 7 ; vi. 23 ; ix. 40 ; x. 36 ; xii. I. 2 Epict. 3, 13, 15. 3 i. 17 ; ix. 27. 4 vi. 30 ; cf. i. 16. Amm. Marc, notes the likeness, and re- applies to Julian the epigram directed against M. Aurelius : We the white bulls bid Marcus Caesar hail ! Win but one victory more, our kind will fail. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxix of Providence; the hand of God, or gods 1 for the theistic or polytheistic forms of belief are alike covered and interpreted by Pantheism is operative everywhere ; above all his voice is articulate within man's self, as his indwelling life and soul. In this way man enters into partnership with God, and shares his franchise in the universe ; 2 God in man, man with God are spiritual confederates ; life is con- tinuous ministration to the divine ; 3 man's moral sense, ' an efflux of god ' 4 * a particle of Zeus ' 5 ' an effluence of the disposing reason of the world ' 6 is one with the moral movement of the universe The soul that rises with us, oui- life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting And cometh from afar. The word of Heraclitus rjOos av0pw7ru> 6W//, 5 ; v - J3 23 ; ix - 3 2 ; xii - 7, 32- ' 2 iv. 15, and cf. ii. 17; iv. 32, 35, 44; vi. 36, 37, 46; vii. I ; ix. 14 ; xi. I ; xii. 24. 3 ii. 12; iii. II ; v. 13 ; vii. 29; viii. II ; ix. 25 ; xii. IO, 29. 4 vi. 13 ; viii. 21 ; ix. 36 ; xi. 2, 17. 5 ix. 24. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxxv ness in itself, in the realisation and fulfilment of its cosmic part, undistracted by baits of worthless pleasure, or lures of wealth or state, or the evanescent bubble of fame.- Stripped of their husks and veils, 1 none of these things can either tempt, or satisfy, or last. But man's cosmic relationship carries other and far more inspiring implications. If inherence in the unitary whole circumscribes individuality, it implies at the same time a fellowship of interest among the parts, that to ' nature's sincere familiar ' 2 becomes a conscious and en- gaging bond. And this sympathetic tie of parts touches chords in the imagination and the heart of Marcus that had not before been sounded. There is not only a vague and wistful sense of unity, but an almost personal tenderness towards nature, both in organic and inorganic phases of action, that is new to literature. The harmonious courses of the stars, 3 the free bounties of air and rain and sunlight, 4 the ordered industries and happy societies of bird and beast and insect, 5 the co- operations of feet and hands and eyelids and teeth, 6 the ripening and the passing of vine and fig and olive, 7 the distinctive beauties of youth and prime and age, 8 and even the more baleful aspects of the immanent world- life * the lion's scowl, and the foam that flecks the wild boar's mouth ' 9 proclaim one origin, one life, one end, and stir ' an accent of emotion ' that opens up new 1 xii. 2, 8. 2 iii. 2. 3 vii. 47 ; ix. 9 ; xi. 27. 4 viii. 57 ; ix. 8 ; xii. 30. 5 v. 1,6; vi. 14 ; ix. 9 ; xi. 18 (9). 6 ii. I ; ix. 42. 7 iv. 6 ; v. 6 ; viii. 19. 8 iii. 2, cf. iv. 20; vii. 24. 9 iii. 2 ; vi. 36. cxxxvi INTRODUCTION SECT. vistas of poetic utterance. " Earth is in love with rain, and holy aether loves. Yes, the world-order is in love with fashioning whatever is to be. To the world-order I profess 'Thy love is mine.'" 1 The very modernness of touch may cause the rarity and novelty of such a section as iii. 2 to escape the reader's notice. The directness and the delicacy of the realism go far beyond the gener- alities of the Hymn of Cleanthes, and anticipate notes such as those of the Prometheus Unbound: The wandering voices and the shadows these Of all that man becomes, the mediators Of that best worship, love, by him and us Given and returned ; swift shapes and sounds, which grow More fair and soft, as man grows wise and kind, And, veil by veil, evil and error fall. And men and beasts in happy dreams shall gather Strength for the coming day and all its joy. And death shall be the last embrace of her Who takes the life she gave, even as a mother, Folding her child, says, ' Leave me not again. ' Thus man has conscious communion with all parts of the great whole : but a special tie of kind unites him with one member of the order, his fellow-men. In the economy of nature all things exist for sake of something else, the lower ever subserving the needs of the higher. 2 Man, the crown of nature, differentiated from all other creatures by the gift of Reason, 3 is called to minister to 1 x. 21 ; cf. v. 4. 2 v. 16, 30; vii. 55; xi. 10, 18. 3 iii. 4, 6, 9 ; iv. 3, 4, 29 ; v. 16, 34 ; vi. 14, 23 ; ix. 8, 9 ; xi. i, 20, etc. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxxvii man. We are made for one another : ' the bond of kind makes alls things human dear.' * The rational and social element is as inherent in the constitution of man, as gravity in the various elements of matter. 2 He can- not escape or annul this property of nature ; he is (as Aristotle too had said) * a social being,' made for social action; its authentications are paramount and binding, its performance his refreshment and delight. 3 It is in the pages of Marcus that the conception of the social tie gains fullest recognition and enforcement. Rational soul only attains its height, in realising 'catholic and social aims.' 4 The seed of this is found historically in the bond of citizenship, which supplied the Athenian Greek with his basis of morality and human obligation. The Stoic philosopher, proclaiming the moral autonomy of the individual, disclaimed the strictly political bond and sanction, to found morality upon bases that were universal. The civic obligation (in its narrower applica- tion) was annulled and superseded by the cosmic, but the name and the associations of ' citizenship ' were too deeply grafted into moral consciousness to be killed out. They survived into the idea of a 'world -citizenship.' ' The world is as it were a city,' 5 and if to the Athenian Athens was Dear City of Cecrops, to the Stoic the universe is Dear City of God? At the outset the phrase 1 ii. i, 13; iii. 4; iv. 3, 4 ; v. i, 16, 30; vi. 39; vii. 13, 22, 31, 55; viii. 8, 26, 56, 59; ix. i, 27 ; xi. i, 10, 18 ; xii. 30. 2 ix. 9 ; xi. 20. 3 iii. 6, ii ; v. i, 6, 16 ; vi. 7, 14, 30; vii. 5, 55, 74; viii. 12, 23 ; ix. 31, 42 ; x. 6 ; xi. 21 ; xii. 20. 4 vi. 14, etc. 6 ii. 16; iii. n ; iv. 3, 4, 23; vi. 44; vii. 8; x. 6, 15; xii. 36. 6 iv. 23. cxxxviii INTRODUCTION SECT. ' world-citizenship ' had perhaps more sound than mean- ing, and so far as it possessed positive content, connoted status and franchise, rather than claims of sacrifice or service. But noble phrases are pregnant : as the ob- ligations involved in status gradually compelled the moral assent, as the ' part ' (meros) learned to recognise and own its contributory offices as ' member ' (melos}, 1 the idea of ' world-citizenship ' came to include the whole range of social duty and endeavour. Implicit in all human relationship, the social tie affects every contact of man with man, establishing a bond of brotherhood, which forbids all selfish isolation of interest. 'What is not good for the swarm is not good for the bee.' 2 It ensures community of sentiment with every man. * Enter into every man's Inner Self, and let every other man enter into thine.' 3 It inspires, impels the life of active service. 'We are made for co-operation, as feet, as hands, as eyelids, as the upper and the lower teeth.' And this law of service is as binding on the Caesar as on the churl. Moreover, do what we will or resist as we may, the great bond is inalienable ; no temporary disclaimer or repudiation can annul it. The individual may for a moment violate, but he cannot impair or destroy the solidarity of man. 'Consider the goodness of god, with which he has honoured man : he has put it in his power never to be sundered at all from the whole ; and if sundered, then to rejoin it once more, and coalesce, and resume his contributory place.' 4 Men, in spite of themselves, remain ' members of the body.' And, as 1 vii. 13. 2 ii. 3 ; v. 8, 22 ; vi. 45, 54 ; x. 6, 33. 3 viii. 61. 4 viii. 34; xi. 8. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxxxix it contemplates the comprehending unity, the thought clothes itself in noble phraseology, and summons man, as man, to become ' the peer and fellow-citizen of god ' and the sharer of his law and franchise. 1 < Clearly this thought of ' world-citizenship ' transcends ) political relationships of any narrower kind ; but yet the political circumstances of his age and the personal position from which the Emperor applied philosophy to life, contributed to invest the formula with new con- viction and reality. The realisation of a confederate 'world-city,' of a Civitas Dei upon earth coextensive with the sway and genius of Rome, floats before the vision of the Emperor as a consummation of world- history. Rome, in the ' Golden Age ' of the Antonines, \ stood for Law and Order from the Euphrates to the Atlantic, from the Northumbrian wall of Antoninus to / Mount Atlas and the Tropic of Cancer. Already in the hands of the great jurists, whose labours began to shape the Perpetual Edict, the lex naturae^ which stands above human caprice or national vicissitude, was becoming formulated as ius naturale natural right, which Stoic influences helped to secure as the moral basis of Imperial code law. ' Cosmopolitanism, the dream of philosophers in the downfall of Greek independence, becomes at last upon the throne of Roman Caesars a proud self-consciousness of Rome's historic mission.' This large recognition of the social tie makes Stoicism \ humane and catholic, redeeming it from the dryness, j which resulted from the too exclusive emphasis on] reason, and from the intolerance consequent on a purely/ i - * 1 vni. 2 ; x. I. cxl INTRODUCTION SECT. individualistic morality. Stoicism insisted from the first on the inwardness of virtue, and placed morality in disposition and motive, not in obedience to prescribed canons of action. As long as the gaze turned inward, and mere self-consistency satisfied the demand of con- formity to nature, pride and self-centred egoism were the natural and almost inevitable outcome. But the acceptance of a cosmic standard of reference, while leaving the stress on motive and disposition unimpaired, safeguards against selfish and self-satisfied contraction of view. Excess of individualism, eccentricity of thought or behaviour, is checked instead of encouraged; and the moral pedantry of a Brutus or even a Helvidius, or the aggressive spleen of a Juvenal or Persius, become as alien to the temper of Marcus, as the tasteless vagaries of a Diogenes. Alongside of modesty, forbearance, and all that makes up * temperance ' a liberal enlarge- ment is given to the active emotions, which right reason can approve and authorise. Patience may extend to pity ; * pride and indifference give way to meekness and unselfish concern for others ; virtue may find delights in offices of good ; and all the more temperate forms of love kindness, charity, goodwill, and such like come into free play. 2 But one restriction remains. The quality of love is various, and Greek discriminates where English is ambiguous. The forms in which this sympathy for man is set forth, are devoid of emotion ; if the term of passion ever escapes the sage's lips, it is 1 ii. 13 ; vii. 26. 2 The stress laid on the virtues here mentioned is reiterated. For virtue as delight, see refs. p. cxxxi. note. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxli the thought of Nature, not of man that stirs it. The \ love of neighbour is not an outgoing of personal affec- tion, but at most a befriending care for kind ; it falls / short of ' brotherhood ' (the term adopted in transla- ' tion *) for it is not indeed direct from man to man, but transmitted through the cosmos. It remains im-\ personal and generic, belonging to the same moral J category as patriotism, or political fraternity, or devotion to a cause : but, spread over a larger and less tangible object, it falls short of these in ardour of desire, and much more lacks the effusion, the joy, the impulsive energy and the quick indignations of altruistic love. Therefore to the last it condemns the Stoic to some lukewarmness of faith and ineffectiveness of personal , appeal ; and leaves him content ' to better men or bear / with them,' 2 'to keep in charity with liars and with rogues,' 3 'to blame none,' 4 and to accept misunderstand- ing and dislike as normal items of experience. 5 Life will have little glow and death no sting. Death is the seal of man's position in the cosmos. He is but a part, insignificant in space and time ; the part passes, only the whole abides. Death is an incident 6 in the brief incident of its existence : it is for nature's good, acceptable not terrible. 7 The Thoughts are 4 Cf. ii. I ; iv. 3 ; v. 22, '25 ; vi. 27, 55 ; vii. 22, 29 ; viii. 14, 17; ix. 4, ii, 20, 38, 42; x. 4; xi. 16, 18; xii. 12, 16. 5 ii. I ; x. 36. 6 iv. 5 ; vi. 2 ; ix. 3 ; x. 36 ; xii. 23. 7 ii. 12; iii. 5, 7, 16 ; iv. 48; v. 29, 33; ix. 3, 21; x. 8, 29, 36 ; xii. 35. k cxlii INTRODUCTION SECT. steeped in the near consciousness of its approach. 1 For just appreciation of thejr purport, and sympathetic rapport with their mood, they must be regarded as farewell reflections upon life and a greeting given in advance to death. The first book is a retrospect on life, moving among its treasured memories of help and friendship ; ' thou art an old man ' 2 is the- prelude to the second ; ' thy life is all but finished,' * its tale fully told and its service accomplished ' ; 3 it remained, while the powers of mind and body still held out, 4 to adjust himself as in the presence of death for reunion with the whole. Life's day had been laborious, and its setting was grey and solitary. At seventeen he had entered the responsibilities of Csesarship, and from that day the wear and tear of office had been continuous. At forty the whole weight of Empire fell upon his shoulders, and the colleagueship of L. Verus proved an addition rather than a relief to care. At forty-six came the imperious call which summoned him to the long exile of the Camp : and the imminent fate of Rome hung on the staunchness of his resolution. ' As man, as Roman, as Imperator, he held the van keeping a brave face.' 5 But the strain of self-sustainment, 'upright, not uprighted,' 6 was exhausting. The attachments of his youth had been to older men, and death or circumstance had. withdrawn them from his side ; the philosophers and councillors shunned the privations of the camp; 1 ii. 5, II, 17; iii. 16; iv. 37; v. 33; vi. 30; vii. 29, 69; xi. 18 ; xii. I. 2 ii. 2 ; cf. iii. 5. 3 ii. 6 ; v. 31. 4 iii. i. 5 iii. 5. 6 iii. 5 ; vii. 12. v MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxliii Galen loved Rome too well to attend him on the Danube, and no poet or man of letters has told the\ story of his Marcomannic wars. Even the solace and / companionship of books was missing. 1 The sur- roundings and associates of war were harsh and uncongenial, 2 yet his presence was necessary with the legions. In the home affections, on which he had most leaned, the hand of bereavement had pressed heavily ; of five sons, death had spared only Commodus, and in 176 his spirit was broken by the death of Faustina. It must have taxed all his fortitude to stand out 'life's remainder,' 3 waiting for the 'retreat to sound,' with powers at the last stage of exhaustion. N The Thoughts are the cry of isolation that escaped him, ^ as 'Among the Quad!,' and 'At CarnuntumJ* he bore / the load of Empire and the solitude of power. Nerves / and digestion under long strain had quite worn out, so that he scarcely ate or slept. Theriac a sedative drug had, Galen tells us, become almost his food ; and Julian introduces him among the Caesars, as 1 very grave, his eyes and features drawn somewhat with hard toils, and his body luminous and transparent with abstemiousness from food.' 'Death is rest': | ' depart then with serenity serene as he who gives thee J thy discharge.' 5 f The impressive pathos, which attaches to this convinced presentiment of death, is more than personal. 1 ii. 2, 3 ; iii. 14 ; iv. 30 ; and perhaps viii. 8. 2 ii. i ; v. 10 ; viii. 44 ; ix. 3, 27, 29, 30, 34 ; x. I, 8, 9, 13, 36. 3 iii. 4 ; iv. 31 ; x. 15 ; xi. 16 ; xii. 3. 4 Subscription to Books I. and II. 5 vi. 28 ; xii. 36. cxliv INTRODUCTION SECT. /The funeral notes, which culminate in the Nunc Dimittis \of the closing book, are the knell of a dying age. Over the tomb of Marcus, too, the historian might fitly inscribe the mournful epitaph LAST OF HIS LINE. 1 Last of Roman Stoics, he is also the last of Emperors in whom the ancient stock of Roman virtue survived. He stood, but half unconsciously, at the outgoings of an age, filled with a sense of transitoriness in all things human, of epochs, empires, dynasties as well as individuals passing to dust and oblivion. The gloom of decadence haunted and oppressed him. Rome was in truth already bankrupt bankrupt in purse, bankrupt in intellect, bankrupt in moral and even in animal vigour. Power centred more and more in the hands of the Chief of state, not because the Emperor strained after prerogative, to which the whole bent of Marcus was opposed, but because Senate and Patricians had lost the capacity and almost the ambition for rule. When the barbarian invaders knocked at the gates of Aquileia the Emperor had to sell the imperial personalities to raise funds for war; ravaged by plague, Italy could not recruit her legions except from slaves and gladiators ; the procreation of children seemed to fail ; and from this time forth the face of the Campagna began to assume the desolation of a place of tombs. Though outwardly 'the Eternal City' stood in plenitude of world -wide power, signs of the times declared the beginning of the end. The golden pause of the Antonine age is the moment of equilibrium before the quickening acceleration of ' The Decline and Fall ' : its MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS cxlv era dates from lyth March 180 A.D., the death-day of Marcus Antoninus. His end was as his life, deliberate, unflinching, resolute. Six days of inability to eat or drink, through which the habit of duty still struggled with the failing body ; the summons to his friends ; words tinged with a sad irony upon the vanity of life ; the passionless fare- well ' Why weep for me ? think of the army and its safety : I do but go on before. Farewell ! ' Then the brief wanderings of delirium haec luctuosi belli opera sunt, then the covered head, and the everlasting rest. Rome forgot the Emperor in the man * Marcus my father ! Marcus my brother ! Marcus my son ! ' cried the bereaved citizens. At his funeral the ordinary lamenta- tions were omitted ; and men said to one another, ' He whom the gods lent us, has rejoined the gods.' Stoicism, by its treatment of the emotions, set itself at a disadvantage ; it tended to make all life joyless, and the best life impossible. Notwithstanding, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus survives as perhaps the loftiest exemplar of unassisted duty, whom history records unalterably loyal to the noblest hypothesis of life he knew. For him, life was indeed 'more like wrestling than dancing/ x yet * in his patience he won his soul.' He lived when national virtue was dead, and almost buried ; yet by integrity, by industry, and by mere fairness of mind, he helped not a little to make Roman Law the mother of codes and the saviour of society. War was to him a hateful ' hunting of Sarmatians,' yet 'duty made him a great Captain,' and he stayed the 1 vii. 61. ) cxlvi INTRODUCTION SECT, v barbarian till Western civilisation was Christian, and / safe. Intellectually, he had neither genius nor learning, / and wrote only for relief of sleeplessness and solitude : yet the centuries still turn to him for wisdom ; and the \ Thoughts remain imperishable, dignifying duty, shaming V weakness, and rebuking discontent. MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS TO HIMSELF BOOK I MeMNHCO TCON FROM my grandfather Verus, integrity and i command of temper. From the reputation and the memory of my 2 father, self-respect and manliness. From my mother, to be god-fearing and liberal ; 3 to check not malicious action only, but each malicious thought ; simplicity in daily living and avoidance of the ways of opulence. Thanks to my great-grandfather, I did not 4 attend public lectures, but was supplied with good masters at home, and learned that in such matters free outlay is no extravagance. From my tutor, not to take sides with the 5 Greens or the Blues, the Big Shields or Little Shields : to be industrious, of few wants, and to 2 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK wait upon myself ; to mind my own business and to scout slander. From Diognetus, nobility of aim : disbelief in sorcerers and wizards and their spells, in tales of exorcism and such like : distaste for quail-fighting and other such excitements : tolerance in argu- ment : familiarisation with philosophy, and attend- ance first on Bacchius, then on Tandasis and Marcianus ; my boyish essays and my aspirations after the plank bed and skin, with the other requirements of Greek training. From Rusticus, I first conceived the need of moral correction and amendment : renounced sophistic ambitions and essays on philosophy, dis- courses provocative to virtue, or fancy portraitures of the Sage or the philanthropist : learned to eschew rhetoric and poetry and fine language : not to wear full dress about the house, or other affectations of the kind : in my letters to keep to the simplicity of his own, from Sinuessa, to my mother : to be encouraging and conciliatory to- wards any one who was offended or out of temper, at the first offer of advances upon their side. He taught me to read accurately, and not to be satisfied with vague general apprehension ; and i TO HIMSELF 3 not to give hasty assent to chatterers. He intro- duced me to the memoirs of Epictetus, presenting me with a copy from his own stores. From Apollonius, to keep free and to stake 8 nothing on the hazards of chance ; never, for one instant, to lose sight of reason ; to keep equable in temper, under assaults of pain, or the loss of a child, or in tedious illnesses. His example was a living demonstration, that the utmost intensity admits of occasional relaxation. He was a model of patience in explanation ; and visibly one who made the least of his own experience and profici- ency in philosophic exposition ; he taught me how to receive factitious favours, without either sacrifice of self-respect or churlish disregard. From Sextus, kindliness ; and the model of a 9 well-ordered household ; the idea of life in con- formity with nature ; dignity without affectation ; sympathetic concern for friends ; tolerance for the simple and unlettered ; the universal cordiality, which made his society more agreeable than any flattery, while never for a moment failing to com- mand respect ; his steady intuition for discerning and methodising the principles essential to right living, avoiding all display of anger or emotion, and 4 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK showing a perfect combination of unimpassioned yet affectionate concern. In his commendation there was no loudness, and about his learning no parade. 10 From Alexander the grammarian, to be un- censorious ; not to be carping and severe upon lapses of grammar or idiom or phrase, but dexter- ously to supply the proper expression, by way of rejoinder or corroboration, or discussion of the matter rather than the language, or some other graceful reminder or hint 11 From Fronto, to understand that malice and doubleness and insincerity are characteristic of the tyrant, and that Patricians, as we call them, only too often fail in natural affection. 12 From Alexander the Platonist, seldom and only when driven to it, to say or write, * I have no time ' ; and not to indulge the tendency to cry off from duties arising out of our natural relations with those about us, on the pretext of press of business. 13 From Catulus, never to slight a friend's remonstrances, even though they happen to be unreasonable, but to try and restore him to good humour ; to be hearty in praise of my teachers, as in the memoirs of Domitius and Athenodotus ; and genuinely fond of my children. i TO HIMSELF 5 From my brother Verus, love of belongings, 14 love of truth, and love of justice ; my knowledge of Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, and Brutus, and the conception of an equal commonwealth based on equality of right and equality of speech, and of imperial rule respecting first and foremost the liberty of the subject. From him too I learned harmonious well-attuned devotion to philo- sophy : freehanded zeal for the good of others ; hopefulness, and belief in friends' affection ; not to withhold the expression of disapproval, and not to leave friends to conjecture what one wanted or did not want, but to be plain with them. From Maximus, self-mastery and concentra- 15 tion of aim ; cheerfulness under sickness or other visitations ; a pleasant blending of affability and dignity ; with unruffled alacrity in the performance of appointed tasks. He inspired every one with the belief that whatever he said he thought, and that whatever he did was done from pure motives. Nothing could dazzle, and nothing daunt him ; there was no pressing forward, no hanging back, no hesitation ; no ogling and fawning on one hand, or frets and frowns on the other. Kind, generous, and genuine, he gave one the impression 6 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK of goodness undeviating and even incorruptible. No one could ever have felt him patronising, yet no one could have borne to account himself his better ; so gracious was his manner. 16 From my father I learned gentleness, and unshaken adherence to judgments deliberately formed ; indifference to outward show and com- pliment ; industry and assiduity ; an ear open to all suggestions for the public weal ; recognition inflexibly proportioned to desert ; the tact that knew where severity was called for, or the reverse ; renunciation of all boy favourites ; disinterested- ness of purpose. His friends had free leave to be absent from the imperial table, or to dis- pense themselves from attendance in his suite, and his sentiments were unchanged towards those who were detained on various calls. At the council - board his investigations were search- ing and persistent, where others would have been content with ready-made impressions and neglected strict inquiry. Stedfast in friendships, he avoided either caprice or extravagance. He seemed always up to the mark and bright. His forethought was remarkable, and his unostentatious prevision for the smallest trifles. Personal applause or flattery i TO HIMSELF 7 of any kind he kept in check. Vigilant in providing for imperial necessities, he carefully husbanded his resources, without flinching from the consequent complaints. Towards the gods he was not superstitious ; towards men, he neither courted popularity nor pandered to the mob, but was in all points sober and safe, distrustful of flash or novelty. The luxuries which tend to refine life, and of which fortune is so lavish, he enjoyed at once modestly and unfeignedly ; if there, he partook unaffectedly, if absent, he did not feel the lack. No one could charge him with crotchets or vulgarity or pedantry, or fail to recognise the manly ripeness and maturity of one superior to flattery, and well able to govern both himself and others. Added to this, he esteemed all true philosophers; to the rest he was never acrimonious, yet contrived to keep his distance. His manner was friendly, gracious but not carried to excess. In attention to the body he hit the happy mean : there was no excessive hugging of life, no foppishness, and on the other hand no undue neglect ; his wise self- management made him almost independent of doctoring, or of medicines or embrocations. He 8 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK was ready and generous in recognising any real proficiency, in rhetoric for instance, or juris- prudence, or national customs, or any other subject ; and eager to assist any to shine in their particular sphere of excellence. In everything a loyal son of Rome, he did not in such matters study appearances. He was free from caprice or humours, constant in attachment to the same places and the same things. After paroxysms of headache, he would return fresh and vigorous to his usual avocations. His official secrets were few, the rare and occasional exceptions being solely matters of public importance. He was discerning and moderate in organising public spectacles, in executing public works, in dis- tribution of largess and the like ; always with an eye to the actual need, rather than to the popularity they brought. He never bathed at odd hours, or took a passion for building ; never set up for a connoisseur of eatables, of the texture and tints of clothes, or of personal charms. His dress came from Lorium where his country house was, and was generally of Lanuvian wool. The story of his conduct to the apologetic tax-collector at Tusculum is a sample of his general demeanour. i TO HIMSELF 9 There was no perversity about him, no black looks or fits : he never forced things, as one says, ' past sweating point ' ; but was invariably rational and discriminating giving judgments leisurely, calm, systematic, vigorous, and consistent. One might fairly apply to him what was claimed for Socrates, that he could either enjoy or leave things which most people find themselves too weak to abstain from, and too self-indulgent to enjoy. Strength, and with strength endurance, and sobriety in both, attest the perfected inviolable soul, as the illness of Maximus showed. From the gods good grandsires, good parents, 17 a good sister, good teachers ; good associates, kinsmen, friends, good almost every one : and that I did not hastily take offence with any one of them, though my natural disposition might easily enough have betrayed me into it ; but by the goodness of the gods circumstances never conspired to put me to the test. Thanks to the gods that I was removed when I was, from the side of my grandfather's mistress ; that I kept the flower of my youth ; that I did not force my virility, but patiently bided my time. That in my imperial father I found a chief, who eradicated io MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK conceit, and brought me up to the idea, that court life need not entail men-at-arms or brocaded robes or flambeaux or statues or such like pomp ; but that a prince may contract his state to the style of a private citizen, without therefore demean- ing himself or relaxing imperial and representative position. The gods granted me a brother, whose influence stimulated me to cultivate my natural powers, while his respect and affection gave me new heart ; children of good parts, and free from bodily deformities. They saved me from making too much way with rhetoric and poetry and the rest, in which I might have become absorbed, had I found it all smooth going. Thanks to them, I early advanced my tutors to the position and dignity to which I saw they aspired, and did not put them off with hopes of my eventually doing so, as for the present they were still young : I became acquainted with Apollonius, Rusticus, and Maximus ; and I got clear and rooted impres- sions of what is meant by living in accordance with nature. The gods have done their part ; their gifts, their aid, their inspirations have not been wanting to help me to realise the life con- formed to nature ; that I still fall short of it is i TO HIMSELF n my own fault, and comes of not heeding stedfastly the reminders, I may almost say the dictates of the gods. Thanks to the gods, my physical strength has stood as it has, the strain imposed : thanks to them, I kept clear both of Benedicta and Theodotus, and came safe out of later loves. Though often vexed with Rusticus, I never went to extremes that I might have repented. Though my mother was destined to die young, at least her latest years were spent with me. Whenever I wanted to help a case of poverty or other need, I was never told that I had no funds for the purpose ; while I have never found myself similarly obliged to accept charity from another. Thanks too for such a wife, so submissive, so affectionate, so simple : for abundance of good tutors for my children : for help vouchsafed in dreams, more particularly for relief from bloodspitting and dizziness : and for the Caietan's response ' That depends on you.' Thanks too that, in spite of my ardour for philosophy, I did not fall into the hands of any sophist, or sit poring over essays or syllogisms, or become engrossed in scientific speculation. All this is by the help of the gods and destiny. Among the Quadi, by tJie Gran. BOOK II d <\Ne2^T<\CTOC Bfoc 5 Let action be willing, disinterested, well- advised, ungrudging ; thought modest and un- pretentious. No overtalking and no overdoing. Give the god within the control of what you are a living man, full-aged, a citizen, a Roman, an Imperator/ you have held the van ; you are as one who waits for the retreat from life to sound, ready for the march, needing not oath nor witness. Herein is the secret of brightness, of self-complete- ness without others' aid, and without the peace which is in others' gift Upright, not uprighted. in TO HIMSELF 27 Does man's life offer anything higher than 6 justice, truth, wisdom, and courage, t in a word, than the understanding at peace with itself, in conforming action to the law of reason, and with destiny in all apportionments that lie beyond its own control ? If you sight anything higher still, turn to it, say I, with your whole heart, and have fruition of your goodly find. But if there appear nothing higher than the implanted deity within, which gives the impulses their mandate, which scrutinises the impressions, which (in the words of Socrates) is weaned from the affections of sense, which takes its mandate from the gods, and con- cerns itself for men ; and if all else proves mean and cheap in comparison with this, allow no scope to any rival attraction or seduction, which will preclude you from the undistracted cultivation of your own peculiar good. No outer claimant not popular applause, nor power, nor wealth, nor self- indulgence may compete with the authorisations of the social reason. For a moment they may seem to harmonise, but suddenly they take the mastery, and sweep you from your moorings. I say then, simply and freely, choose the highest and hold it fast. The highest is that in which lies true 28 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK advantage. If your advantage as a reasoning being, make sure of it ; if only as a living thing, so state the case, not bolstering your judgment by any self-conceit, only be sure there lurks no error in your scrutiny. Never prize anything as self-advantage, which will compel you to break faith, to forfeit self- respect, to suspect or hate or execrate another, to play false, to desire anything which requires screens or veils. He who is loyal to his own indwelling mind and god, and a willing votary of that inward grace, makes no scene, heaves no sighs, needs not a wilderness nor yet a crowd. The best is his, the life that neither seeks nor shuns. Whether his soul in its material shell remains at his disposal for a longer or a shorter space, he cares not a whit. So soon as it is time for him to take his leave, he is as ready to go his way as to engage in any other seemly or self-respecting act ; careful of one thing only, that while life shall last, his under- standing shall never disown the relation of a being possessed of mind and social aim. In the understanding throughly purged and chastened, there is no place for ulcerous sore or fester. Destiny cannot cut short the man's career in TO HIMSELF 29 still incomplete, like an actor quitting the stage before the piece is finished and played out. He does not cringe nor brag, he does not lean nor yet stand off, he is accountable to none and yet has no concealments. Treat reverently your assumptive faculty : by 9 it and it alone is your Inner Self secured against assumptions not in harmony with nature and with the constitution of a rational creature. It is our warranty for mental circumspection, for community with men, and for the walk with gods. Casting all else away, hold fast these few 10 verities. And bear in mind withal that every man lives only in the present, this passing moment ; all else is life outlived, or yet undisclosed. Man's life has but a tiny span, tiny as the corner of earth on which he lives, short as fame's longest tenure, handed along the line of short-lived mortals, who do not even know themselves, far less the dead of long ago. To these add yet one injunction more. Always 11 define and outline carefully the object of percep- tion, so as to realise its naked substance, to dis- criminate its own totality by aid of its surroundings, to master its specific attributes, and those of the 30 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK component elements into which it can be analysed. Nothing so emancipates the mind, as the power of systematically and truthfully testing everything that affects our life, and looking into them in such a way as to infer the kind of order to which each belongs, the special use which it subserves, its relation and value to the universe, and in particular to man as a citizen and member of that supreme world-city, of which all other cities form as it were households. What is the object, ask, which now produces the given impression upon me? of what is it compounded ? how long has it to last ? on what virtue does it make demand ? gentleness, courage, truth, good faith, simplicity, self-help, or what ? In each case say, This comes from god ; or, This is part of the co-ordination, the concaten- ating web, the concurrence of destiny : or, This is from one who is of the same stock and kind and fellowship as I, but who is ignorant of his true relation to nature ; I am not ignorant, and there- fore in accordance with nature's law of fellowship I treat him kindly and justly ; though at the same time in things relative I strive to hit their proper worth. 12 If you put to use the present, earnestly, vigor- in TO HIMSELF 31 ously, and considerately, following the law of reason ; if, careless of by-gains, you keep your god within pure and erect, as though at any moment liable to be re-claimed ; if, waiting for nothing and shunning nothing, you keep your being whole, conforming present action to nature's law, and content with even truth of word and utterance, then you will be in the way of perfection. And none has power to hinder. As surgeons keep their instruments and knives 13 at hand for sudden calls upon their skill, keep you your principles ever ready to test things divine and human, in every act however trifling remem- bering the mutual bond between the two. No human act can be right without co-reference to the divine, nor conversely. Be not misguided any more : you will not now 14 re-read your Memorabilia, nor your deeds of ancient Rome and Greece, nor the essays and extracts which you garnered for old age. No, push forward to the end, fling empty hopes away, and as you care for self, to your own rescue, while you yet may. They little know the full meaning of to steal, to 15 sow, to buy, to be at peace, to see the right course : such seeing needs another organ than the eye. 32 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK in 16 Body, soul, mind, these three : to the body belong sensations, to the soul impulses, to the mind principles. The impressions of sense we share with cattle of the field : the pulls of impulse with brute beasts, with catamites, with Phalaris, or Nero ; and mind is still the guide to obvious duties, even for the atheist, the traitor, and for those who lock the door for sin. Well then, if all else is shared, the good man's one distinction is to welcome gladly all that in the web of destiny befalls ; to keep the god implanted in his breast unsoiled, not perturbed by any tumult of impres- sions, keeping his watch serene, a seemly follower of god, not false to truth in utterance, or to justice in act. Though the whole world misdoubt him because his life is simple, self-respecting, and cheerful, he is angered with no man, and does not turn aside from the path that leads to his life's goal, unto which he must come pure and peaceful and ready to depart, in unrebellious harmony with his appointed portion. BOOK IV CK coy r^P T^NOC ecMGN. CLEANTHES 0U)N MeCTA K<\1 A(MMO'NO)N. EPICTETUS WHEN the sovereign power within is true to 1 nature, its attitude towards outer circumstance is that of ready adjustment to whatever is possible and offered for acceptance. It does not set its affections on any determinate material, but keeps each impulse and preference conditional and subject to reservation. Obstacles encountered it converts into material for itself, just as fire lays hold of accumulations, which would have choked a feeble light ; for a blaze of fire at once assimilates all that is heaped on, consumes it, and derives new vigour from the process. Let no act be performed at random, or without 2 full philosophic consideration. Men seek retirement in country house, on shore 3 34 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK or hill ; and you too know full well what that yearn- ing means. Surely a very simple wish ; for at what hour you will, you can retire into yourself. No- where can man find retirement more peaceful and untroubled than in his own soul ; specially he who hath stores within, a glance at which straightway sets him at perfect ease ; meaning by ease good order in the soul, this and nothing else. Ever and anon grant yourself this retirement, and so renew yourself. Have a few principles brief and elemental, recurrence to which will suffice to shut out the court and all its ways, and anon send you back unchafing to the tasks to which you must return. What is it chafes you ? Men's evil-doing ? Do but fall back upon your tenet, that rational beings exist for one another, that forbearance is a part of justice, that wrong-doing is involuntary, and think of all the feuds, suspicions, hates and brawls, that ere now lie stretched in ashes ; think, and be at rest. Or is it the portion assigned you in the universe, at which you chafe ? Recall to mind the alternative either a foreseeing pro- vidence, or blind atoms and all the abounding proofs that the world is as it were a city. Or is it bodily troubles that assail ? Realise again that iv TO HIMSELF 35 when the understanding has once possessed itself and recognised its own prerogative, it is not bound up any more with the pneuma-current, smooth or rough, and recur to all that you have learned and accepted regarding pain and pleasure. Or does some bubble of fame torment you ? Then fix your gaze on swift oblivion, on the gulf of infinity this way and that, on the empty rattle of plaudits and the undiscriminating fickleness of professed applause, on the narrow range within which you are circumscribed. The whole earth is but a point, your habitation but a tiny nook thereon : and on the earth how many are there who will praise you, and what are they worth ? Well then, remember to retire within that little field 1 of self. Above all do not strain or strive, but be free, and look at things as a man, as a human being, as a citizen, as a mortal. Foremost among the maxims to which you can bend your glance, be these two first, things cannot touch the soul, but stand with- out it stationary ; tumult can arise only from views within ourselves : secondly, all things you see, in a moment change and will be no more ; ay, think of all the changes in which you have 1 See x. 23, note. 36 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK yourself borne part. The world is a process of variation ; life a process of views. If the mind-element is common to us all, so likewise is that reason which makes us rational ; and therefore too that reason, which bids us do or leave undone ; and therefore the world-law ; there- fore we are fellow-citizens, and share a common citizenship ; and the world is as it were a city. What other citizenship is common to the whole of humankind ? From thence, even from this common citizenship, comes our franchise mind, reason, and law. If not, whence indeed ? For just as the earthly element in me is derived from earth, the watery from another element, breath from a given source, and again the hot and igneous from its own proper source for nothing comes from nothing, or can pass into nothing so assuredly the mind-element has likewise its own origin. Death, like birth, is a revelation of nature ; a composition of elements and answering dissolution. There is nothing in it to cause us shame. It is in consonance with the nature of a being possessed of mind, and does not contradict the reason of its constitution. That from such and such causes given effects iv TO HIMSELF 37 result is inevitable ; he who would not have it so, would have the fig-tree yield no juice. Fret not. Remember too that in a little you and he will both be dead ; soon not even your names will survive. Get rid of the assumption, and therewith you 7 get rid of the sense ' I am an injured man ' ; get rid of the sense of injury, you get rid of the injury itself. What does not make the man himself worse, 8 does not make his life worse either, nor injure him, without or within. It is a necessity demanded by the general good. 9 1 All that happens, happens aright.' Watch 10 narrowly, and you will find it so. Not merely in the order of events, but in just order of right, as though some power apportions all according to worth. Watch on then, as you have begun ; in all that you do, let goodness go with the doing- goodness in the strict meaning of the word. In every action make sure of this. Do not take the views adopted by him who 11 does the wrong, nor those he would have you adopt ; just look at facts, as they truly are. Two rules of readiness ; be ready, first, to do 12 just that which reason, your king and lawgiver, 38 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK suggests for the help of men, and, secondly, be ready to change your coarse, should some one after all correct and convert you out of your conceit. Only the conversion must be due to some con- vincing consideration, such as justice or public gain, and the appeal must be of that order only, not apparent pleasure or popularity. 13 Have you reason ? I have. Then why not use it ? Let reason do its work, and what more would you have ? 14 You exist but as a part inherent in a greater whole. You will vanish into that which gave you being ; or rather, you will be retransmuted into the seminal and universal reason. 15 Many grains of frankincense on the same altar ; one drops sooner, another later it makes no difference. 16 In ten days, instead of a monkey or a beast, you can become in the gods' eyes as a god, if you do but revert to the principles of your creed and to reverence for reason. 17 Do not live as though you had a thousand years before you. The common due impends ; while you live, and while you may, be good. 18 How much valuable time may be gained by iv TO HIMSELF 39 not looking at what some neighbour says or does or thinks, but only taking care that our, own acts are just and holy ; the good man must not heed black hearts, but head straight for the goal, casting not a glance behind. He who is aflutter for fame perceives not, that 19 of those who remember him every man will soon be dead ; so too in due course will each of their successors, till the last flicker of memory, through flutterings and failings, dies altogether out. Nay assume that those who remember you are immortal, and memory immortal, what is that to you ? To you dead, absolutely nothing. Well but to you living, what good is praise, except indeed for some secondary end ? Why then neglect unseasonably nature's present gift, and cling to what one or another says hereafter? Anything in any wise beautiful or noble, owes 20 the beauty to itself, and with itself its beauty ends ; praise forms no part of it ; for praise does not make its object worse or better. This is true of the commoner forms of beauty material objects for instance and works of art no less than of the ideal ; true beauty needs no addition, any more than law, or truth, or kindness, or self-respect. 40 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK For which of these can praise beautify, or censure mar? Is the emerald less perfect, for lacking praise ? or is gold, or ivory, or purple ? a lyre or a poniard, a floweret or a shrub ? 21 If souls survive death, how can the air hold them from all eternity ? How, we reply, does earth hold the bodies of generation after generation committed to the grave ? Just as on earth, after a certain term of survival, change and dissolution of substance makes room for other dead bodies, so too the souls transmuted into air, after a period of survival, change by processes of diffusion and of ignition, and are resumed into the seminal prin- ciple of the universe, and in this way make room for others to take up their habitation in their stead. Such is the natural answer, assuming the survival of souls. And we must consider not only the sum total of bodies duly buried, but also of creatures daily devoured by ourselves and the other animals. What numbers are thus consumed, and as it were buried in the bodies of those who feed on them ! Yet the requisite room is provided by the assimila- tion into blood, and forms of variation into air or fire. How can the truth be searched out in this case ? By distinguishing between matter and cause. iv TO HIMSELF 41 Do not be dazed by the whirl. Whatever the 22 impulse, satisfy justice ; whatever the impression, make sure of certitude. I am in harmony with all, that is a part of thy 23 harmony, great Universe. For me nothing is early and nothing late, that is in season for thee. All is fruit for me, which thy seasons bear, O Nature ! from thee, in thee, and unto thee are all things. " Dear City of Cecrops ! " saith the poet : and wilt not thou say, ' Dear City of God ' ? " Do few things \ if you would have cheer" A 24 better rule methinks is to do only things necessary, things which in a social being reason dictates, and as it dictates. For this brings the cheer that comes of doing a few things, and doing them well. Most of the things we say or do are not necessary ; get rid of them, and you will gain time and tran- quillity. Thus in every case a man should ask himself, Is this one of the things not necessary? and we ought to get rid not only of actions, that are not necessary, but likewise of impressions ; then superfluous actions will not follow in their train. Make trial of the good man's life and see how 25 in your case it succeeds of the man satisfied with 42 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK his allotted portion in the universe, and content to keep his action just, his ^disposition charitable. 26 You have seen the other side of the picture ? Now look on this. Be tranquil : be simple. Does another do wrong ? The wrong is his own. Does aught befall you ? It is well a part of the destiny of the universe ordained for you from the beginning ; all that befalls was part of the great web. In fine, Life is short ; let us redeem the present by help of reasonableness and right. In relaxation, be sober. 27 Either an ordered universe, or else a welter of confusion. Assuredly then a world -order. Or think you that order subsisting within yourself is compatible with disorder in the All ? And that too when all things, however distributed and diffused, are affected sympathetically. 28 "A black heart" ay, a womanish, a perverse heart, a heart of brute beast or babe or cattle, stupid and false and hypocritical, a huckster's or a tyrant's. 29 If he who does not recognise what is in the universe is a stranger to the universe, none the less is he who does not recognise what is passing there. He is an exile, expatriated from the com- iv TO HIMSELF 43 munity of reason ; a blind man, with cataract of the mental eye ; a pauper, who needs another's help, and cannot provide his own living ; an excrescence, who as it were excretes and separates himself from the order of nature, by discontent with his sur- roundings ; for the same nature which produced you, produced them too ; a social outcast, who dissevers his individual soul from the one common soul of reasoning things. One philosopher goes without coat ; another 30 without book. Quoth our half-clad friend, ' Bread I have none, yet I hold fast to reason.' And so say I, ' Provender of learning I have none, and yet hold fast.' * Love your trade, however humble,' and find in 31 it refreshment. Spend life's remainder, as one who with his whole heart has committed his all to the gods, and is neither tyrant nor slave to any man. Picture, for instance, the times of Vespasian 32 there you see folk marrying, rearing children, falling sick, dying, warring, feasting, trading, farm- ing, flattering, pushing, suspecting, plotting, praying for deaths, grumbling at fate, loving, amassing, coveting consulships or crowns. Yet, where now is all that restless life ? Or pass a step on to the 44 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK \ times of Trajan ! Again it is the same. That life too is dead. So likewise scan the many registers of ages and of nations ; see how hard they strove, how fast they fell, and were resolved into the elements. Above all dwell in retrospect on those whom you yourself have seen straining after vanities, instead of following out the law of their own being, and, clinging tight to that, resting content. This acts as a sure reminder that interest in an object must be in proportion to the real worth of the particular object. It will save you from disheartenment not to become unduly en- grossed in things of lesser moment 33 The accustomed phrases of old days are the archaisms of to-day. So too the names that were once on all men's lips, are now as it were archaisms Camillus, Caeso, Volesus, Dentatus ; and a little later, Scipio and Cato ; yes even Augustus, and so with Hadrian and Antoninus. All things fade, as a tale that is told, and soon are buried in complete oblivion. This is true even of the shining lights of fame. As for the rest, no sooner is the breath out of them, than they are * to fortune and to fame unknown.' 1 And what, after all, is eternity of 1 Marcus quotes two familiar epithets from Homer, Od. i. 242. iv TO HIMSELF 45 fame ? Just emptiness. What then remains, worthy of devotion ? One thing only ; the under- standing just, action unselfish, speech that abhors a lie, and the disposition that welcomes all that befalls, as inevitable, as familiar, and as flowing from a like origin and source. Freely resign yourself to Clotho, helping her 34 to spin her thread of what stuff she will. Everything is but for a day, remembrancer alike 35 and the remembered. Watch how all things continually change, and 36 accustom yourself to realise that Nature's prime delight is in changing things that are, and making new things in their likeness. All that is, is as it were the seed of that which shall issue from it. You must not limit your idea of seed to seeds planted in the earth or in the womb which is most unphilosophical. Death is at hand but not yet are you simple, 37 or unperturbed, or incredulous of possible injury from without, or serene towards all, or convinced that in just dealing alone is wisdom. Descry men's Inner Selves, and see what the 38 wise shun or seek. Evil for you lies not in any self external to 39 46 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK your own ; nor yet in any phase or alteration of your material shell. Where is it then ? In that part of you which forms your views of what is evil. Refuse the view, and all is well. Though the poor flesh, to which it is so near allied, be cut or burned, fester or rot, still let this judging faculty remain at peace, adjudging nothing either bad or good, that can equally befall the bad man and the good. For that which equally befalls a man, whether he conforms to nature or no, is neither for nor against nature. 40 Constantly picture the universe as a living organism, controlling a single substance and a single soul, and note how all things are assimilated to a single world-sense, all act by a single impulse, and all co-operate towards all that comes to pass ; and mark the contexture and concatenation of the web. 41 What am I ? " A poor soul laden with a corpse " said Epictetus. 42 Things in change take no harm, nor the pro- ducts of change good. 43 Time is a river, the mighty current of created things. No sooner is a thing in sight, than it is swept past, and another comes sweeping on, and will anon be by. iv TO HIMSELF 47 All that befalls is as accustomed and familiar 44 as spring rose, or summer fruit ; so it is with disease, death, slander, intrigue, and all else that joys or vexes fools. Subsequents follow antecedents by bond of 45 inner consequence ; it is no merely numerical sequence of arbitrary and isolated units, but a rational interconnexion. And just as things existent exhibit harmonious co-ordination, so too things coming into being display not bare succes- sion but a marvellous internal relationship. Remember the word of Heraclitus. " The 46 death of earth the birth of water, the death of water the birth of air, the death of air fire," and so conversely. Remember too his "reveller, un- conscious which way his road leads " ; and again, " men quarrel with their ever-present friend," even with the reason that disposes the universe ; and his " To what they meet each day, men still keep strange." And again, " We must not act and speak like men asleep," albeit even then we seem to act and speak ; l nor yet " as children from their father's lips," that is to say, blindly take all for granted. Suppose some god informed you that to-morrow, 47 1 The same mot is cited again vi. 42. 48 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK or at most the day after, you would be dead, you would not be greatly exercised whether it were the day after rather than to-morrow, not if you have a spark of spirit for what difference is there worth considering? So, too, never mind whether it is ever so many years hence, or to- morrow. 48 Constantly realise how many physicians are dead, who have often enough knit their brows over their patients ; how many astrologers, who have pompously predicted others' deaths ; philosophers, who have held disquisitions without end on death or immortality ; mighty men, who have slain their thousands ; tyrants, who in exercise of their pre- rogative of death have blustered as though they were Immortals ; whole cities buried bodily, Helice, Pompeii, Herculaneum, and others without end. Then count up those whom you have known, one by one ; how one buried another, was in his turn laid low, and another buried him ; and all this in a little span ! In a word, look at all human things, behold how fleeting and how sorry but yesterday a mucus-clot, to-morrow dust or ashes ! Spend your brief moment then according to nature's law, and serenely greet the journey's end, as an olive iv TO HIMSELF 49 falls when it is ripe, blessing the branch that bare it and giving thanks to the tree which gave it life. Be like the headland, on which the billows dash 49 themselves continually ; but it stands fast, till about its base the boiling breakers are lulled to rest. Say you, ' How unfortunate for me that this should have happened ' ? Nay rather, ' How fortunate, that in spite of this, I own no pang, uncrushed by the present, unterrified at the future ! ' The thing might have happened to any one, but not every one could have endured without a pang. Why think that a misfortune, rather than this a good fortune ? Can you apply the term misfortune at all to that which is not a frustration of men's nature? or can you regard anything as a frustra- tion of his nature, which is not contrary to the will of that nature ? Think rather You have learned the will of nature. Can that which has befallen you possibly prevent you from being just, lofty, temperate, discerning, circumspect, truthful, self- respecting, free, and all else in which man's nature finds its full reward ? Remember then henceforth in every case where you are tempted to repine, to apply this principle not, ' The thing is a misfor- tune,' but * To bear it bravely is good fortune.' E 50 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK iv 50 A simple, yet effectual, help towards disregard of death, is to dwell on those who have clung tenaciously to life. What have they got by it, more than those taken in their prime ? Some- where, somewhen, in any case they lie low, Cadici- anus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, and the rest who, however many they first carried to the grave, came thither themselves at last. And how slight the difference after all, how much afflicted, how ill- companioned, and in how poor a body ! It is as nothing, compared with the unfathomable past and the infinite beyond. In the presence of that, is not * Trigerenian Nestor ' 1 as the three days' babe? 51 Ever run the short way : and the short way is the way of nature, aiming at perfect soundness in every word and every act. Such is the rule that gives deliverance from worry and irresolution and all secondary aims and artifice. 1 M. plays upon the familiar epithet * Gerenian ' of Nestor, the typical ancient of Greek literature, and Trigeron (rpiytywv) ' thrice- aged/ an epithet applied to Nestor by the Greek epigrammatists. BOOK V IN the morning, when you feel loth to rise, fall 1 back upon the thought ' I am rising for man's work. Why make a grievance of setting about that for which I was born, and for sake of which I have been brought into the world ? Is the end of my existence to lie snug in the blankets and keep warm ? ' ' It is more pleasant so.' ' Is it for pleasure you were made ? not for doing, and for action ? Look at the plants, the sparrows, the ants, spiders, bees, all doing their business, helping to weld the order of the world. And will you refuse man's part ? and not run the way of nature's ordering ? ' ' Well, but I must have rest.' 'True, yet to rest too nature sets bounds, no less than to eating and to drinking : in spite of which you pass the bounds, you transgress 52 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK nature's allowance : while in action, far from that, you stop short of what is within your power. You do not truly love yourself; if you did, you would love your nature, and that nature's will. True lovers of their art grow heart and soul absorbed in working at it, going unwashed, unfed ; you honour your nature less than the carver does his carving, or the dancer his dancing, or the hoarder his heap, or the vainglorious man his glory. They, for their darling pursuit, readily forego food and sleep, to advance that upon which they are bent. To you, does social action seem cheaper than such things, and worth less devotion ? ' What a solace to banish and efface every tumultuous, unauthorised impression, and straight- way to be lapped in calm ! Claim your right to every word or action that accords with nature. Do not be distracted by the consequent criticism or talk, but if a thing is good to be done or said, do not disclaim your proper right. Other men's self is their own affair, they follow their own impulse : do not you heed them, but keep the straight course, following your own nature and the nature of the universe ; and the way of both is one. v TO HIMSELF 53 I walk the ways of nature, until I fall and 4 shall find rest, exhaling my last breath into that element from which day by day I draw it, and falling upon that wherefrom my father stored my seed of life, my mother the blood, my nurse the milk ; which for these many years provides my daily meat and drink, supports my tread, bears each indignity of daily use. You have no special keenness of wit. So be 5 it yet there are many other qualities of which you cannot say, * I have no gift that way.' Do but practise them : they are wholly in your power ; be sincere, dignified, industrious, serious, not too critical or too exacting, but considerate and frank, with due reserves in action, speech, and accent of authority. See how many good qualities you might exhibit, for which you cannot plead natural incapacity or unfitness, and how you fail to rise to your opportunities. When you murmur, when you are mean, when you flatter, when you complain of ill-health, when you are self-satisfied and give yourself airs and indulge one humour after another, is it forced on you by lack of natural gifts ? Heavens ! You might long since have been delivered from all that. It is only after 54 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK all a question of some slowness, some lack of quickness in perception ; and this you can train and discipline, if you do not shut your eyes to it or indulge your own stupidity. There is a kind of man, who, whenever he does a good turn, makes a point of claiming credit for it ; and though he does not perhaps press the claim, yet all the same at heart he takes up the position of creditor, and does not forget what he has done. But there is another, who so to say forgets what he has done : he is like the vine that bears a cluster, and having once borne its proper fruit seeks no further recompense. As the horse that runs, the hound that hunts, the bee that hives its honey, so the man who does the kindness does not raise a shout, but passes on to the next act, as a vine to the bearing of clusters for next season. ' What ! ' you object, ' are we to class ourselves with things that act unconsciously, without intelli- gence ? ' * Yes indeed ; but to do so is to assert intelligence ; for it is a characteristic of the social being to perceive consciously that his action is social.' ' Yes i' faith, and to wish the recipient too to perceive the same.' 'What you say is true : but if you thus pervert the maxim's mean- v TO HIMSELF 55 ing, it will make you one of those described above ; who indeed are misled by plausible appeals to reason. Once master the true meaning, and never fear that it will lead you into neglect of any social act.' An Athenian prayer Rain, rain, dear Zeus, 7 upon Athenian tilth and plains. We should either not pray at all, or else in this simple, noble sort We talk of doctors' orders, and say : ^Escula- 8 pius has prescribed him horse exercise, or cold baths, or walking barefoot. It is the same with Nature's orders, when she prescribes disease, mutilation, amputation, or some other form of disablement. Just as doctors' orders mean such and such treatment, ordered as specific for such and such state of health, so every individual has circumstances ordered for him specifically in the way of destiny. Circumstances may be said to fit our case, just as masons talk of fitting squared stones in bastions or pyramids, when they adjust them so as to complete a given whole. The adjustment is a perfect fit. Just as the universe is the full sum of all the constituent parts, so is destiny the cause and sum of all existent causes. The most unphilosophical recog- 56 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK nise it, in such phrases as ' So it came to pass for him.' So and so then* was brought to pass, was ' ordered ' for the man. Let us accept such orders, as we do the orders of our ^Esculapius. They are rough oftentimes, yet we welcome them in hope of health. Try to think of the execution and consummation of Nature's good pleasure as you do of bodily good health. Welcome all that comes, perverse though it may seem, for it leads you to the goal, the health of the world-order, the welfare and well-being of Zeus. He would not bring this on the individual, were it not for the good of the whole. Each change and chance that nature brings, is in correspondence with that which exists by her disposal. On two grounds then you should accept with acquiescence what- ever befalls first, because it happened to you, was ordered for you, affected you, as part of the web issuing from the primal causation ; secondly, because that which comes upon the individual contributes to the welfare, the con- summation, yea and the survival, of the power which disposes all things. As with the parts, so is it with the causes ; you cannot sever any fragment of the connected unity, without mutilat- v TO HIMSELF 57 ing the perfection of the whole. In every act of discontent, you inflict, so far as in you lies, such severance and so to say undoing. Do not give way to disgust, do not lose heart, 9 do not be discouraged at flaws in strict consistency of conduct : after each check, return to the charge, thankful if in most things you acquit yourself like a man ; and returning, love that to which you return ; turn once and again to philosophy, not as the urchin to his master, but as the sore-eyed to the sponge and egg, or others to salves or fomentation. Obedience to reason will thus become not a question of outward show, but of inward refreshment. Philosophy, remember, wills only that which nature within you wills ; while you willed something not in accord with nature. ' Why what is more agreeable ? ' says pleasure, with beguiling voice. Nay but consider, is it more truly agreeable than loftiness of soul, free, simple, gracious and holy ? What can be more agreeable than wisdom itself, when you consider the smooth unhalting flow of its intelligence and apprehension ? Things are so wrapped in veils, that to gifted 10 philosophers not a few all certitude seems un- 58 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK attainable. Nay to the Stoics themselves such attainment seems precarious ; and every act of intellectual assent is fallible ; for where is the infallible man ? Pass to the material world ; how transitory, how worthless it all is, lying at the disposal of the rake, the harlot or the robber ! Or take the characters of those with whom you consort ; to bear with even the most gentle-minded is hard work, nay hard enough to put up even with oneself. In all this darkness and filth, in this incessant flux of being and of time, of motion and things moved, I can imagine nothing that deserves high prizing or intent pursuit. On the contrary, one must take comfort to oneself, while awaiting natural dissolution and not chafing at the delay, and find refreshment solely in these thoughts first, nothing will happen to me, that is not in accord with Nature : secondly, I need do nothing contrary to the god and deity within me ; for that no man can compel me to transgress. 11 What use am I now making of my soul ? that is the question. Put it to yourself at every turn and ask How goes it with that part of me, known as the governing Inner Self? Whose soul v TO HIMSELF 59 have I now ? the child's ? the lad's ? the woman's ? the tyrant's ? the cattle's ? or the beast's ? This may serve you as a test of what the world 12 calls ' goods.' When once a man pictures the reality of true and veritable ' goods,' goods such as wisdom self-restraint justice and courage he cannot with that picture in his mind add the proverbial jest upon excess of goods ; it will not fit. So long as the goods he pictures are goods in the popular sense, he will have an open ear for the poet's epigram, and accept it as perfectly in point. It is true enough of excellence, as regarded by the world : otherwise the witticism would not fail to shock and offend ; and applied to wealth, and the appurtenances of luxury or show, we accept it as a smart and pointed epigram. To it then, and ask yourself Can I accord the dignity or the idea of ' goods ' to things which do not by their conception preclude the opprobrious taunt, that the abundance of them leaves the owner not a corner ' to ease himself in ' ? l 1 The reference is to a fragment of Menander, restored by Cobet with the help of this paragraph, and runnfng thus : There's an old proverb, sir, against profusion, If you'll excuse the somewhat coarse allusion With such a glut of goods, amid the pelf You've not a corner left in which to ease yourself. 60 MARCUS ANTONINUS BOOK 13 I consist of two elements, the causal and the material ; neither of which can perish or cease to exist, any more than they came into being from previous non-existence. It follows then that every part of me will be co-ordinated by change into some other part of the world-order, and that again into some new part, and so on ad infinitum. My existence is but a stage in the succession, and so too that of my parents, and so backwards once more ad infinitum. There is no objection to this view, even supposing the world is ordered in finite cosmic cycles. 14 Reason and the reasoning process are in themselves and their action self-sufficing faculties. They derive their impulse from their own begin- ning ; they march to their appointed end. Hence the term rectitude l applied to conduct, signifying that it never swerves from the right path. 15 Nothing strictly appertains to man, which is not appointed for man, as man. Such things are not among man's requirements, they have no warranty in man's nature, and they do not perfect or complete that nature. Neither therefore does 1 The etymological correspondence between KaT6p6uYceooc Apxnre, Nd/woy MGTA TT8, /. 2 For juLJUioXucjuLNON, read nejucoXucueNON 12, /. 7 For Hpco'i'KH, read eupo'iKH BOOK IV 3, /. 12 For OUTHN, OUTI^N, or XuriHN, read au\HN //. 23-24 Read aXXa TO ccojucmKd cou TI CNNOHCaC . . 5, /. 2 Read cuncpicic eK TOIOUTCON Xucic etc TQUTO 1 6, /. i After ee6c, insert eeotc 1 8, /. i For acxoXiaN, read eucxoXiaN 19, end I have modified punctuation, and as final words read napiHC rap NGN aicaipcoc THN 9uciKHN 36ciN, aXXou TINOC X6rou Xom6N 21, /. 4 For npoc HNTINO enidiajiiONHN, read nOCHN T1NO APPENDIX 191 24, /. 2 After dueiNON, insert JULONON 27, opening Read HTOI KOCJULOC SiaTerarueNOC, ft KUKGCON cu.unc90pHJULNoc. dXXd JUHN KOCUOC- H N CO1 JU.eN . . ; 30 Rcpunctuated ; with dXXcoc (for dXXoc) attached to BiBXiou clause 33, /. 4 For AeoNNdroc, read ACNTQTOC 40, /. 2 For enexoN, read dn^ON, or better ^pencm 46, end Read on ou dcT nafdac TOKCCON d>N [or ooc], Tourecri Kara vpiXoN, KaeoTi nap- 51, /. 4 For CTpareiac, read erparreiac BOOK V 5, /. 7 For jueraXefoN, read dueraXeiON 6 Besides small amendments 9ucei for I have at various points re-arranged 26, /. 5 For THN IrepaN cuJuindeeiaN, read THN jmepcbN cujuindeeiaN BOOK VI 13, /. 13 For icTOpidN, read ropeiaN 45, /. 4 Insert H before 4ni TCON ueccoN BOOK VII- 2, opening Read Yde rd borjuiaTa- ncoc rap dXXcoc . . . 1 6, /. 8 For ou rap ezeic, read ou napeXseic 31, /. 4 For eri ei oafjuoNa TO croixeia, read eire e'l're croixeia, dpKeT &H jae- 56, /. i Insert JUIH before ju^xpi NGN 192 MARCUS ANTONINUS 66, /. 7 For emcTHceicN, read dniCTHceiEN 67, opening Supply TON NoGN (with Schultz) from end of preceding section BOOK VIII 8, opening naNra rmcocKeiN for cmariNGOCKeiN seems probable 21, /. 2 For NOCHCCIN & nopNeOcaN, read NOCHCQN [&'] ft anonuficaN 35, /. 4 For eninepirpenei. read en neprrpenei 38 Read BXene KpmcoN 9ucei co9COTdrouc 41, end Read oux onoON anrerai, OTQN reNHrai C9dTpOC KUK\OTGpHC JULONIH 51, end Read ncoc OUN nHFHN aeNNQON eseic ; elcduou ceauTON KT\. 57, /. 7 For cocnep diaipeTrai read enepeiderai BOOK IX i, /. 36 Read &NTI roO cujuBameiN eniCHC TOIC eni- riNOjmeNOic, omitting Kara TO ksnc and riNOJULN01C KQ1 3, /. 9 For oXocxepcbc, read ducxcpcbc 28, /. 4 Provisionally read ft anas copjj.Hce, TO 5e Xoina KQT* enaKoXoueHCiN TponoN rap TINQ drouoi ft A BOOK X 7, end For cc XfaN npocnXeKei, read cii XION npocnXeKH 9, /. 3 For 6 9ucioXorHT6c, read ou 9ucioXorHTcoc APPENDIX 193 12, /. 8 Read H re an6nrcacic <5m6Teunu' oOic &TIN (for 6:nb TOUTOU ecriN) 19, /. 2 For 6NdpoNOJU.ouJU.CNOi, read aNdporuNou- JUCNOI BOOK XI 6 In first clause, for frri . . . JUH axeecee, read were . . . juri axeeceai 12, /. 2 For cneipHTai, read cucneiparai. 15, /. 3 Read aurb 9aNHCrar Ni roO jmerconou rerpa9eai 69eiXei eOeuc H 9&>NH roioO- TON HxeT- eueuc N TOIC oJuuuaciN 1 6, /. 10 Read TI JULCNTOI 5ucKoXoN OUK aXXcoc raOra ; BOOK XII 2, end For dcxoXHcerai, read c 30, /. 8 For TO NooGN of Edd., read r6 31, /. 2 For r6 XrtreiN, read TO Xerem THE END Printed bv R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh. MACMILLAN AND 00,'S PUBLICATIONS. THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE MEDITATIONS OF MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS. A Revised Text with Translation and Commentary, and an Appendix on the Relations of the Emperor with Cornelius Fronto. By HASTINGS CROSSLEY, M.A., Hon. D.Lit. Queen's University ; Sometime Scholar of Trinity College, Dublin ; Professor of Greek in Queen's College, Belfast. 8vo. 6s. ESSAYS IN CRITICISM. By MATTHEW ARNOLD, D.C.L., formerly Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford, and Fellow of Oriel College. First Series (qpntains Essay on MARCUS AURELIUS). 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MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FRQM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. r 4DM6IDF REC'D LD vE^C'D IP ncp I'g'j o DM No. .;.. UC.U 1. uJ -^ r HI ' - lC37'fi.qj R~~'P LD REC'D CD HPT i y "--^ :C29'63-^- l>M UU1 i ^ ,^o^ ?%^a !8 ^'64S W \ j? REC'D LD n w M Sift 8 '64 -]j 4| I? 'i S2 ^ ^ A JAN 1 3 1981 FEB 1 8 1981 LD 2]A-50m-8,'61 (Cl795slO)476B University of California Berkeley YB 23