when the ruling faculty is discontented with anything that happens,
then too it deserts its post: for it is constituted for piety and
reverence towards the gods no less than for justice. For these
qualities also are comprehended under the generic term of contentment
with the constitution of things, and indeed they are prior to acts of
justice.

21. He who has not one and always the same object in life, cannot be
one and the same all through his life. But what I have said is not
enough, unless this also is added, what this object ought to be. For as
there is not the same opinion about all the things which in some way or
other are considered by the majority to be good, but only about some
certain things, that is, things which concern the common interest, so
also ought we to propose to ourselves an object which shall be of a
common kind [social] and political. For he who directs all his own
efforts to this object, will make all his acts alike, and thus will
always be the same.

22. Think of the country mouse and of the town mouse, and of the alarm
and trepidation of the town mouse.[7]

23. Socrates used to call the opinions of the many by the name of
Lamiae,—bugbears to frighten children.

24. The Lacedaemonians at their public spectacles used to set seats in
the shade for strangers, but themselves sat down anywhere.

25. Socrates excused himself to Perdiccas for not going to him, saying,
It is because I would not perish by the worst of all ends; that is, I
would not receive a favor and then be unable to return it.

26. In the writings of the [Ephesians] there was this precept,
constantly to think of some one of the men of former times who
practised virtue.

27. The Pythagoreans bid us in the morning look to the heavens that we
may be reminded of those bodies which continually do the same things
and in the same manner perform their work, and also be reminded of
their purity and nudity. For there is no veil over a star.

28. Consider what a man Socrates was when he dressed himself in a skin,
after Xanthippe had taken his cloak and gone out, and what Socrates
said to his friends who were ashamed of him and drew back from him when
they saw him dressed thus.

29. Neither in writing nor in reading wilt thou be able to lay down
rules for others before thou shalt have first learned to obey rules
thyself. Much more is this so in life.

30. A slave thou art: free speech is not for thee.

31. And my heart laughed within.
     _Odyssey_, IX. 413.

32. And virtue they will curse, speaking harsh words.
     HESIOD, _Works and Days_, 184.

33. To look for the fig in winter is a madman’s act: such is he who
looks for his child when it is no longer allowed (Epictetus, III. 24,
87).

34. When a man kisses his child, said Epictetus, he should whisper to
himself, “To-morrow perchance thou wilt die.”—But those are words of
bad omen.—“No word is a word of bad omen,” said Epictetus, “which
expresses any work of nature; or if it is so, it is also a word of bad
omen to speak of the ears of corn being reaped” (Epictetus, III. 24,
88).

35. The unripe grape, the ripe bunch, the dried grape all are changes,
not into nothing, but into something which exists not yet (Epictetus,
III. 24).

36. No man can rob us of our free will (Epictetus III. 22, 105).

37. Epictetus also said, a man must discover an art [or rules] with
respect to giving his assent; and in respect to his movements he must
be careful that they be made with regard to circumstances, that they be
consistent with social interests, that they have regard to the value of
the object; and as to sensual desire, he should altogether keep away
from it; and as to avoidance [aversion], he should not show it with
respect to any of the things which are not in our power.

38. The dispute then, he said, is not about any common matter, but
about being mad or not.

39. Socrates used to say, What do you want, souls of rational men or
irrational?—souls of rational men.—Of what rational men, sound or
unsound?—Sound.—Why then do you not seek for them?—Because we have
them.—Why then do you fight and quarrel?

BOOK XII.

1. All those things at which thou wishest to arrive by a circuitous
road thou canst have now, if thou dost not refuse them to thyself. And
this means, if thou wilt take no notice of all the past, and trust the
future to providence, and direct the present only conformably to piety
and justice. Conformably to piety, that thou mayest be content with the
lot which is assigned to thee, for nature designed it for thee and thee
for it. Conformably to justice, that thou mayest always speak the truth
freely and without disguise, and do the things which are agreeable to
law and according to the worth of each. And let neither another man’s
wickedness hinder thee, nor opinion nor voice, nor yet the sensations
of the poor flesh which has grown about thee; for the passive part will
look to this. If, then, whatever the time may be when thou shalt be
near to thy departure, neglecting everything else thou shalt respect
only thy ruling faculty and the divinity within thee, and if thou shalt
be afraid not because thou must some time cease to live, but if thou
shalt fear never to have begun to live according to nature,—then thou
wilt be a man worthy of the universe which hast produced thee, and thou
wilt cease to be a stranger in thy native land, and to wonder at things
which happen daily as if they were something unexpected, and not to be
dependent on this or that.

2. God sees the minds [ruling principles] of all men bared of the
material vesture and rind and impurities. For with his intellectual
part alone he touches the intelligence only which has flowed and been
derived from himself into these bodies. And if thou also usest thyself
to do this, thou wilt rid thyself of thy much trouble. For he who
regards not the poor flesh which envelops him, surely will not trouble
himself by looking after raiment and dwelling and fame and such like
externals and show.

3. The things are three of which thou art composed: a little body, a
little breath [life], intelligence. Of these the first two are thine,
so far as it is thy duty to take care of them; but the third alone is
properly thine. Therefore if thou shalt separate from thyself, that is,
from thy understanding, whatever others do or say, and whatever thou
hast done or said thyself, and whatever future things trouble thee
because they may happen, and whatever in the body which envelops thee
or in the breath [life], which is by nature associated with the body,
is attached to thee independent of thy will, and whatever the external
circumfluent vortex whirls round, so that the intellectual power exempt
from the things of fate can live pure and free by itself, doing what is
just and accepting what happens and saying the truth: if thou wilt
separate, I say, from this ruling faculty the things which are attached
to it by the impressions of sense, and the things of time to come and
of time that is past, and wilt make thyself like Empedocles’ sphere,

“All round and in its joyous rest reposing”;

and if thou shalt strive to live only what is really thy life, that is,
the present,—then thou wilt be able to pass that portion of life which
remains for thee up to the time of thy death free from perturbations,
nobly, and obedient to thy own daemon [to the god that is within thee]
(II. 13, 17; III. 5, 6; XI. 12).

4. I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more
than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinion of
himself than on the opinion of others. If then a god or a wise teacher
should present himself to a man and bid him to think of nothing and to
design nothing which he would not express as soon as he conceived it,
he could not endure it even for a single day. So much more respect have
we to what our neighbors shall think of us than to what we shall think
of ourselves.

5. How can it be that the gods, after having arranged all things well
and benevolently for mankind, have overlooked this alone, that some
men, and very good men, and men who, as we may say, have had most
communion with the divinity, and through pious acts and religious
observances have been most intimate with the divinity, when they have
once died should never exist again, but should be completely
extinguished?

But if this is so, be assured that if it ought to have been otherwise,
the gods would have done it. For if it were just, it would also be
possible; and if it were according to nature, nature would have had it
so. But because it is not so, if in fact it is not so, be thou
convinced that it ought not to have been so: for thou seest even of
thyself that in this inquiry thou art disputing with the Deity; and we
should not thus dispute with the gods, unless they were most excellent
and most just; but if this is so, they would not have allowed anything
in the ordering of the universe to be neglected unjustly and
irrationally.

6. Practise thyself even in the things which thou despairest of
accomplishing. For even the left hand, which is ineffectual for all
other things for want of practice, holds the bridle more vigorously
than the right hand; for it has been practised in this.

7. Consider in what condition both in body and soul a man should be
when he is overtaken by death; and consider the shortness of life, the
boundless abyss of time past and future, the feebleness of all matter.

8. Contemplate the formative principles [forms] of things bare of their
coverings; the purposes of actions; consider what pain is, what
pleasure is, and death, and fame; who is to himself the cause of his
uneasiness; how no man is hindered by another; that everything is
opinion.

9. In the application of thy principles thou must be like the
pancratiast, not like the gladiator; for the gladiator lets fall the
sword which he uses and is killed; but the other always has his hand,
and needs to do nothing else than use it.

10. See what things are in themselves, dividing them into matter, form,
and purpose.

11. What a power man has to do nothing except what God will approve,
and to accept all that God may give him.

12. With respect to that which happens conformably to nature, we ought
to blame neither gods, for they do nothing wrong either voluntarily or
involuntarily, nor men, for they do nothing wrong except involuntarily.
Consequently we should blame nobody (II. 11, 12, 13; VII. 62; VIII. 17,
18).

13. How ridiculous and what a stranger he is who is surprised at
anything which happens in life.

14. Either there is a fatal necessity and invincible order, or a kind
providence, or a confusion without a purpose and without a director
(IV. 27). If then there is an invincible necessity, why dost thou
resist? But if there is a providence which allows itself to be
propitiated, make thyself worthy of the help of the divinity. But if
there is a confusion without a governor, be content that in such a
tempest thou hast in thyself a certain ruling intelligence. And even if
the tempest carry thee away, let it carry away the poor flesh, the poor
breath, everything else; for the intelligence at least it will not
carry away.

15. Does the light of the lamp shine without losing its splendor until
it is extinguished; and shall the truth which is in thee and justice
and temperance be extinguished [before thy death]?

16. When a man has presented the appearance of having done wrong [say],
How then do I know if this is a wrongful act? And even if he has done
wrong, how do I know that he has not condemned himself? And so this is
like tearing his own face. Consider that he who would not have the bad
man do wrong, is like the man who would not have the fig-tree bear
juice in the figs, and infants cry, and the horse neigh, and whatever
else must of necessity be. For what must a man do who has such a
character? If then thou art irritable, cure this man’s disposition.

17. If it is not right, do not do it: if it is not true, do not say it.
[For let thy efforts be—]

18. In everything always observe what the thing is which produces for
thee an appearance, and resolve it by dividing it into the formal, the
material, the purpose, and the time within which it must end.

19. Perceive at last that thou hast in thee something better and more
divine than the things which cause the various effects, and as it were
pull thee by the strings. What is there now in my mind,—is it fear, or
suspicion, or desire, or anything of the kind (V. 11)?

20. First, do nothing inconsiderately, nor without a purpose. Second,
make thy acts refer to nothing else than to a social end.

21. Consider that before long thou wilt be nobody and nowhere, nor will
any of the things exist which thou now seest, nor any of those who are
now living. For all things are formed by nature to change and be turned
and to perish, in order that other things in continuous succession may
exist (IX. 28).

22. Consider that everything is opinion, and opinion is in thy power.
Take away then, when thou choosest, thy opinion, and like a mariner who
has doubled the promontory, thou wilt find calm, everything stable, and
a waveless bay.

23. Any one activity, whatever it may be, when it has ceased at its
proper time, suffers no evil because it has ceased; nor he who has done
this act, does he suffer any evil for this reason, that the act has
ceased. In like manner then the whole which consists of all the acts,
which is our life, if it cease at its proper time, suffers no evil for
this reason, that it has ceased; nor he who has terminated this series
at the proper time, has he been ill dealt with. But the proper time and
the limit nature fixes, sometimes as in old age the peculiar nature of
man, but always the universal nature, by the change of whose parts the
whole universe continues ever young and perfect. And everything which
is useful to the universal is always good and in season. Therefore the
termination of life for every man is no evil, because neither is it
shameful, since it is both independent of the will and not opposed to
the general interest, but it is good, since it is seasonable, and
profitable to and congruent with the universal. For thus too he is
moved by the Deity who is moved in the same manner with the Deity, and
moved towards the same things in his mind.

24. These three principles thou must have in readiness: In the things
which thou dost do nothing either inconsiderately or otherwise than as
Justice herself would act; but with respect to what may happen to thee
from without, consider that it happens either by chance or according to
providence, and thou must neither blame chance nor accuse providence.
Second, consider what every being is from the seed to the time of its
receiving a soul, and from the reception of a soul to the giving back
of the same, and of what things every being is compounded, and into
what things it is resolved. Third, if thou shouldst suddenly be raised
up above the earth, and shouldst look down on human things, and observe
the variety of them how great it is, and at the same time also shouldst
see at a glance how great is the number of beings who dwell all around
in the air and the ether, consider that as often as thou shouldst be
raised up, thou wouldst see the same things, sameness of form and
shortness of duration. Are these things to be proud of?

25. Cast away opinion: thou art saved. Who then hinders thee from
casting it away?

26. When thou art troubled about anything, thou hast forgotten this,
that all things happen according to the universal nature; and forgotten
this, that a man’s wrongful act is nothing to thee; and further thou
hast forgotten this, that everything which happens, always happened so
and will happen so, and now happens so everywhere; forgotten this too,
how close is the kinship between a man and the whole human race, for it
is a community, not of a little blood or seed, but of intelligence. And
thou hast forgotten this too, that every man’s intelligence is a god
and is an efflux of the Deity; and forgotten this, that nothing is a
man’s own, but that his child and his body and his very soul came from
the Deity; forgotten this, that everything is opinion; and lastly thou
hast forgotten that every man lives the present time only, and loses
only this.

27. Constantly bring to thy recollection those who have complained
greatly about anything, those who have been most conspicuous by the
greatest fame or misfortunes or enmities or fortunes of any kind: then
think where are they all now? Smoke and ash and a tale, or not even a
tale. And let there be present to thy mind also everything of this
sort, how Fabius Catullinus lived in the country, and Lucius Lupus in
his gardens, and Stertinius at Baiae, and Tiberius at Capreae, and
Velius Rufus [or Rufus at Velia]; and in fine think of the eager
pursuit of anything conjoined with pride; and how worthless everything
is after which men violently strain; and how much more philosophical it
is for a man in the opportunities presented to him to show himself
just, temperate, obedient to the gods, and to do this with all
simplicity: for the pride which is proud of its want of pride is the
most intolerable of all.

28. To those who ask, Where hast thou seen the gods, or how dost thou
comprehend that they exist and so worshippest them, I answer, in the
first place, they may be seen even with the eyes;[8] in the second
place, neither have I seen even my own soul, and yet I honor it. Thus
then with respect to the gods, from what I constantly experience of
their power, from this I comprehend that they exist, and I venerate
them.

29. The safety of life is this, to examine everything all through, what
it is itself, that is its material, what the formal part; with all thy
soul to do justice and to say the truth. What remains, except to enjoy
life by joining one good thing to another so as not to leave even the
smallest intervals between?

30. There is one light of the sun, though it is interrupted by walls,
mountains, and other things infinite. There is one common substance,
though it is distributed among countless bodies which have their
several qualities. There is one soul, though it is distributed among
infinite natures and individual circumscriptions [or individuals].
There is one intelligent soul, though it seems to be divided. Now in
the things which have been mentioned, all the other parts, such as
those which are air and matter, are without sensation and have no
fellowship: and yet even these parts the intelligent principle holds
together and the gravitation towards the same. But intellect in a
peculiar manner tends to that which is of the same kin, and combines
with it, and the feeling for communion is not interrupted.

31. What dost thou wish,—to continue to exist? Well, dost thou wish to
have sensation, movement, growth, and then again to cease to grow, to
use thy speech, to think? What is there of all these things which seems
to thee worth desiring? But if it is easy to set little value on all
these things, turn to that which remains, which is to follow reason and
God. But it is inconsistent with honoring reason and God to be troubled
because by death a man will be deprived of the other things.

32. How small a part of the boundless and unfathomable time is assigned
to every man, for it is very soon swallowed up in the eternal! And how
small a part of the whole substance; and how small a part of the
universal soul; and on what a small clod of the whole earth thou
creepest! Reflecting on all this, consider nothing to be great, except
to act as thy nature leads thee, and to endure that which the common
nature brings.

33. How does the ruling faculty make use of itself? for all lies in
this. But everything else, whether it is in the power of thy will or
not, is only lifeless ashes and smoke.

34. This reflection is most adapted to move us to contempt of death,
that even those who think pleasure to be a good and pain an evil still
have despised it.

35. The man to whom that only is good which comes in due season, and to
whom it is the same thing whether he has done more or fewer acts
conformable to right reason, and to whom it makes no difference whether
he contemplates the world for a longer or a shorter time,—for this man
neither is death a terrible thing (II. 7; VI. 23; X. 20; XII. 23).

36. Man, thou hast been a citizen in this great state [the world]; what
difference does it make to thee whether for five years [or three]? for
that which is conformable to the laws is just for all. Where is the
hardship then, if no tyrant nor yet an unjust judge sends thee away
from the state, but nature, who brought thee into it? the same as if a
praetor who has employed an actor dismisses him from the stage.—“But I
have not finished the five acts, but only three of them.”—Thou sayest
well, but in life the three acts are the whole drama; for what shall be
a complete drama is determined by him who was once the cause of its
composition, and now of its dissolution: but thou art the cause of
neither. Depart then satisfied, for he also who releases thee is
satisfied.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS.

It has been said that the Stoic philosophy first showed its real value
when it passed from Greece to Rome. The doctrines of Zeno and his
successors were well suited to the gravity and practical good sense of
the Romans; and even in the Republican period we have an example of a
man, M. Cato Uticensis, who lived the life of a Stoic and died
consistently with the opinions which he professed. He was a man, says
Cicero, who embraced the Stoic philosophy from conviction; not for the
purpose of vain discussion, as most did, but in order to make his life
conformable to the Stoic precepts. In the wretched times from the death
of Augustus to the murder of Domitian, there was nothing but the Stoic
philosophy which could console and support the followers of the old
religion under imperial tyranny and amidst universal corruption. There
were even then noble minds that could dare and endure, sustained by a
good conscience and an elevated idea of the purposes of man’s
existence. Such were Paetus Thrasca, Helvidius Priscus, Cornutus, C.
Musonius Rufus, and the poets Persius and Juvenal, whose energetic
language and manly thoughts may be as instructive to us now as they
might have been to their contemporaries. Persius died under Nero’s
bloody reign; but Juvenal had the good fortune to survive the tyrant
Domitian and to see the better times of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian. His
best precepts are derived from the Stoic school, and they are enforced
in his finest verses by the unrivalled vigor of the Latin language.

The best two expounders of the later Stoical philosophy were a Greek
slave and a Roman emperor. Epictetus, a Phrygian Greek, was brought to
Rome, we know not how, but he was there the slave and afterwards the
freedman of his unworthy master, Epaphroditus. Like other great
teachers he wrote nothing, and we are indebted to his grateful pupil
Arrian for what we have of Epictetus’ discourses. Arrian wrote eight
books of the discourses of Epictetus, of which only four remain and
some fragments. We have also from Arrian’s hand the small Enchiridion
or Manual of the chief precepts of Epictetus. There is a valuable
commentary on the Enchiridion by Simplicius, who lived in the time of
the emperor Justinian.

Antoninus in his first book (I. 7), in which he gratefully commemorates
his obligations to his teachers, says that he was made acquainted by
Junius Rusticus with the discourses of Epictetus, whom he mentions also
in other passages (IV. 41; XI 34, 36). Indeed, the doctrines of
Epictetus and Antoninus are the same, and Epictetus is the best
authority for the explanation of the philosophical language of
Antoninus and the exposition of his opinions. But the method of the two
philosophers is entirely different. Epictetus addressed himself to his
hearers in a continuous discourse and in a familiar and simple manner.
Antoninus wrote down his reflections for his own use only, in short,
unconnected paragraphs, which are often obscure.[9]

The want of arrangement in the original and of connection among the
numerous paragraphs, the corruption of the text, the obscurity of the
language and the style, and sometimes perhaps the confusion in the
writer’s own ideas,—besides all this, there is occasionally an apparent
contradiction in the emperor’s thoughts, as if his principles were
sometimes unsettled, as if doubt sometimes clouded his mind. A man who
leads a life of tranquillity and reflection, who is not disturbed at
home and meddles not with the affairs of the world, may keep his mind
at ease and his thoughts in one even course. But such a man has not
been tried. All his Ethical philosophy and his passive virtue might
turn out to be idle words, if he were once exposed to the rude
realities of human existence. Fine thoughts and moral dissertations
from men who have not worked and suffered may be read, but they will be
forgotten. No religion, no Ethical philosophy is worth anything, if the
teacher has not lived the “life of an apostle,” and been ready to die
“the death of a martyr.” “Not in passivity (the passive affects) but in
activity lie the evil and the good of the rational social animal, just
as his virtue and his vice lie not in passivity, but in activity” (IX.
16). The emperor Antoninus was a practical moralist. From his youth he
followed a laborious discipline, and though his high station placed him
above all want or the fear of it, he lived as frugally and temperately
as the poorest philosopher. Epictetus wanted little, and it seems that
he always had the little that he wanted and he was content with it, as
he had been with his servile station. But Antoninus after his accession
to the empire sat on an uneasy seat. He had the administration of an
empire which extended from the Euphrates to the Atlantic, from the cold
mountains of Scotland to the hot sands of Africa; and we may imagine,
though we cannot know it by experience, what must be the trials, the
troubles, the anxiety, and the sorrows of him who has the world’s
business on his hands, with the wish to do the best that he can, and
the certain knowledge that he can do very little of the good which he
wishes.

In the midst of war, pestilence, conspiracy, general corruption, and
with the weight of so unwieldy an empire upon him, we may easily
comprehend that Antoninus often had need of all his fortitude to
support him. The best and the bravest men have moments of doubt and of
weakness; but if they are the best and the bravest, they rise again
from their depression by recurring to first principles, as Antoninus
does. The emperor says that life is smoke, a vapor, and St. James in
his Epistle is of the same mind; that the world is full of envious,
jealous, malignant people, and a man might be well content to get out
of it. He has doubts perhaps sometimes even about that to which he
holds most firmly. There are only a few passages of this kind, but they
are evidence of the struggles which even the noblest of the sons of men
had to maintain against the hard realities of his daily life. A poor
remark it is which I have seen somewhere, and made in a disparaging
way, that the emperor’s reflections show that he had need of
consolation and comfort in life, and even to prepare him to meet his
death. True that he did need comfort and support, and we see how he
found it. He constantly recurs to his fundamental principle that the
universe is wisely ordered, that every man is a part of it and must
conform to that order which he cannot change, that whatever the Deity
has done is good, that all mankind are a man’s brethren, that he must
love and cherish them and try to make them better, even those who would
do him harm. This is his conclusion (II. 17): “What then is that which
is able to conduct a man? One thing and only one, Philosophy. But this
consists in keeping the divinity within a man free from violence and
unharmed, superior to pains and pleasures, doing nothing without a
purpose nor yet falsely and with hypocrisy, not feeling the need of
another man’s doing or not doing anything; and besides, accepting all
that happens and all that is allotted, as coming from thence, wherever
it is, from whence he himself came; and finally waiting for death with
a cheerful mind as being nothing else than a dissolution of the
elements of which every living being is compounded. But if there is no
harm to the elements themselves in each continually changing into
another, why should a man have any apprehension about the change and
dissolution of all the elements [himself]? for it is according to
nature; and nothing is evil that is according to nature.”

The Physic of Antoninus is the knowledge of the Nature of the Universe,
of its government, and of the relation of man’s nature to both. He
names the universe (VI. 1), “the universal substance,” and he adds that
“reason” governs the universe. He also (VI. 9) uses the terms
“universal nature” or “nature of the universe.” He (VI. 25) calls the
universe “the one and all, which we name Cosmos or Order.” If he ever
seems to use these general terms as significant of the All, of all that
man can in any way conceive to exist, he still on other occasions
plainly distinguishes between Matter, Material things, and Cause,
Origin, Reason. This is conformable to Zeno’s doctrine that there are
two original principles of all things, that which acts and that which
is acted upon. That which is acted on is the formless matter: that
which acts is the reason, God, who is eternal and operates through all
matter, and produces all things. So Antoninus (V. 32) speaks of the
reason which pervades all substance, and through all time by fixed
periods (revolutions) administers the universe. God is eternal, and
Matter is eternal. It is God who gives form to matter, but he is not
said to have created matter. According to this view, which is as old as
Anaxagoras, God and matter exist independently, but God governs matter.
This doctrine is simply the expression of the fact of the existence
both of matter and of God. The Stoics did not perplex themselves with
the insoluble question of the origin and nature of matter. Antoninus
also assumes a beginning of things, as we now know them; but his
language is sometimes very obscure.

Matter consists of elemental parts of which all material objects are
made. But nothing is permanent in form. The nature of the universe,
according to Antoninus’ expression (IV. 36), “loves nothing so much as
to change the things which are, and to make new things like them. For
everything that exists is in a manner the seed of that which will be.
But thou art thinking only of seeds which are cast into the earth or
into a womb: but this is a very vulgar notion.” All things then are in
a constant flux and change: some things are dissolved into the
elements, others come in their places; and so the “whole universe
continues ever young and perfect.”

When we look at the motions of the planets, the action of what we call
gravitation, the elemental combination of unorganized bodies and their
resolution, the production of plants and of living bodies, their
generation, growth, and their dissolution, which we call their death,
we observe a regular sequence of phenomena, which within the limits of
experience present and past, so far as we know the past, is fixed and
invariable. But if this is not so, if the order and sequence of
phenomena, as known to us, are subject to change in the course of an
infinite progression,—and such change is conceivable,—we have not
discovered, nor shall we ever discover, the whole of the order and
sequence of phenomena, in which sequence there may be involved
according to its very nature, that is, according to its fixed order,
some variation of what we now call the Order or Nature of Things. It is
also conceivable that such changes have taken place,—changes in the
order of things, as we are compelled by the imperfection of language to
call them, but which are no changes; and further it is certain that our
knowledge of the true sequence of all actual phenomena, as for instance
the phenomena of generation, growth, and dissolution, is and ever must
be imperfect.

We do not fare much better when we speak of Causes and Effects than
when we speak of Nature. For the practical purposes of life we may use
the terms cause and effect conveniently, and we may fix a distinct
meaning to them, distinct enough at least to prevent all
misunderstanding. But the case is different when we speak of causes and
effects as of Things. All that we know is phenomena, as the Greeks
called them, or appearances which follow one another in a regular
order, as we conceive it, so that if some one phenomenon should fail in
the series, we conceive that there must either be an interruption of
the series, or that something else will appear after the phenomenon
which has failed to appear, and will occupy the vacant place; and so
the series in its progression may be modified or totally changed. Cause
and effect then mean nothing in the sequence of natural phenomena
beyond what I have said; and the real cause, or the transcendent cause,
as some would call it, of each successive phenomenon is in that which
is the cause of all things which are, which have been, and which will
be forever. Thus the word Creation may have a real sense if we consider
it as the first, if we can conceive a first, in the present order of
natural phenomena; but in the vulgar sense a creation of all things at
a certain time, followed by a quiescence of the first cause, and an
abandonment of all sequences of Phenomena to the laws of Nature, or to
the other words that people may use, is absolutely absurd.

Man being conscious that he is a spiritual power or an intellectual
power, or that he has such a power, in whatever way he conceives that
he has it,—for I wish simply to state a fact,—from this power which he
has in himself, he is led, as Antoninus says, to believe that there is
a greater power, which, as the old Stoics tell us, pervades the whole
universe as the intellect pervades man.

God exists then, but what do we know of his nature? Antoninus says that
the soul of man is an efflux from the divinity. We have bodies like
animals, but we have reason, intelligence, as the gods. Animals have
life and what we call instincts or natural principles of action: but
the rational animal man alone has a rational, intelligent soul.
Antoninus insists on this continually: God is in man, and so we must
constantly attend to the divinity within us, for it is only in this way
that we can have any knowledge of the nature of God. The human soul is
in a sense a portion of the divinity, and the soul alone has any
communication with the Deity; for as he says (XII. 2): “With his
intellectual part alone God touches the intelligence only which has
flowed and been derived from himself into these bodies.” In fact he
says that which is hidden within a man is life, that is the man
himself. All the rest is vesture, covering, organs, instrument, which
the living man, the real man, uses for the purpose of his present
existence. The air is universally diffused for him who is able to
respire; and so for him who is willing to partake of it the intelligent
power, which holds within it all things, is diffused as wide and free
as the air (VIII. 54). It is by living a divine life that man
approaches to a knowledge of the divinity. It is by following the
divinity within, as Antoninus calls it, that man comes nearest to the
Deity, the supreme good; for man can never attain to perfect agreement
with his internal guide. “Live with the gods. And he does live with the
gods who constantly shows to them that his own soul is satisfied with
that which is assigned to him, and that it does all the daemon wishes,
which Zeus hath given to every man for his guardian and guide, and a
portion of himself. And this daemon is every man’s understanding and
reason” (V. 27).

There is in man, that is in the reason, the intelligence, a superior
faculty which if it is exercised rules all the rest. A man must
reverence only his ruling faculty and the divinity within him. As we
must reverence that which is supreme in the universe, so we must
reverence that which is supreme in ourselves; and this is that which is
of like kind with that which is supreme in the universe (V. 21).

Antoninus speaks of a man’s condemnation of himself when the diviner
part within him has been overpowered and yields to the less honorable
and to the perishable part, the body, and its gross pleasures.

Antoninus did not view God and the material universe as the same, any
more than he viewed the body and soul of man as one. Antoninus has no
speculations on the absolute nature of the Deity. It was not his
fashion to waste his time on what man cannot understand. He was
satisfied that God exists, that he governs all things, that man can
only have an imperfect knowledge of his nature, and he must attain this
imperfect knowledge by reverencing the divinity which is within him,
and keeping it pure.

From all that has been said, it follows that the universe is
administered by the Providence of God and that all things are wisely
ordered. There are passages in which Antoninus expresses doubts, or
states different possible theories of the constitution and government
of the universe; but he always recurs to his fundamental principle;
that if we admit the existence of a deity, we must also admit that he
orders all things wisely and well (IV. 27; VI. 1; IX. 28; XII. 5).

But if all things are wisely ordered, how is the world so full of what
we call evil, physical and moral? If instead of saying that there is
evil in the world, we use the expression which I have used, “what we
call evil,” we have partly anticipated the emperor’s answer. We see and
feel and know imperfectly very few things in the few years that we
live, and all the knowledge and all the experience of all the human
race is positive ignorance of the whole, which is infinite. Now, as our
reason teaches us that everything is in some way related to and
connected with every other thing, all notion of evil as being in the
universe of things is a contradiction; for if the whole comes from and
is governed by an intelligent being, it is impossible to conceive
anything in it which tends to the evil or destruction of the whole
(VII. 55; X. 6).

Everything is in constant mutation, and yet the whole subsists. We
might imagine the solar system resolved into its elemental parts, and
yet the whole would still subsist “ever young and perfect.”

All things, all forms, are dissolved and new forms appear. All living
things undergo the change which we call death. If we call death an
evil, then all change is an evil. Living beings also suffer pain, and
man suffers most of all, for he suffers both in and by his body and by
his intelligent part. Men suffer also from one another, and perhaps the
largest part of human suffering comes to man from those whom he calls
his brothers. Antoninus says, (VIII. 55) “Generally, wickedness does no
harm at all to the universe; and particularly, the wickedness [of one
man] does no harm to another. It is only harmful to him who has it in
his power to be released from it as soon as he shall choose.” The first
part of this is perfectly consistent with the doctrine that the whole
can sustain no evil or harm. The second part must be explained by the
Stoic principle that there is no evil in anything which is not in our
power. What wrong we suffer from another is his evil, not ours. But
this is an admission that there is evil in a sort, for he who does
wrong does evil, and if others can endure the wrong, still there is
evil in the wrong- doer. Antoninus (XI. 18) gives many excellent
precepts with respect to wrongs and injuries, and his precepts are
practical. He teaches us to bear what we cannot avoid, and his lessons
may be just as useful to him who denies the being and the government of
God as to him who believes in both. There is no direct answer in
Antoninus to the objections which may be made to the existence and
providence of God because of the moral disorder and suffering which are
in the world, except this answer which he makes in reply to the
supposition that even the best men may be extinguished by death. He
says if it is so, we may be sure that if it ought to have been
otherwise, the gods would have ordered it otherwise (XII. 5). His
conviction of the wisdom which we may observe in the government of the
world is too strong to be disturbed by any apparent irregularities in
the order of things. That these disorders exist is a fact, and those
who would conclude from them against the being and government of God
conclude too hastily. We all admit that there is an order in the
material world, a constitution, a system, a relation of parts to one
another and a fitness of the whole for something. So in the
constitution of plants and of animals there is an order, a fitness for
some end. Sometimes the order, as we conceive it, is interrupted and
the end, as we conceive it, is not attained. The seed, the plant, or
the animal sometimes perishes before it has passed through all its
changes and done all its uses. It is according to Nature, that is a
fixed order, for some to perish early and for others to do all their
uses and leave successors to take their place. So man has a corporeal
and intellectual and moral constitution fit for certain uses, and on
the whole man performs these uses, dies, and leaves other men in his
place. So society exists, and a social state is manifestly the natural
state of man,—the state for which his nature fits him, and society
amidst innumerable irregularities and disorders still subsists; and
perhaps we may say that the history of the past and our present
knowledge give us a reasonable hope that its disorders will diminish,
and that order, its governing principle may be more firmly established.
As order then, a fixed order, we may say, subject to deviations real or
apparent, must be admitted to exist in the whole nature of things, that
which we call disorder or evil, as it seems to us, does not in any way
alter the fact of the general constitution of things having a nature or
fixed order. Nobody will conclude from the existence of disorder that
order is not the rule, for the existence of order both physical and
moral is proved by daily experience and all past experience. We cannot
conceive how the order of the universe is maintained: we cannot even
conceive how our own life from day to day is continued, nor how we
perform the simplest movements of the body, nor how we grow and think
and act, though we know many of the conditions which are necessary for
all these functions. Knowing nothing then of the unseen power which
acts in ourselves except by what is done, we know nothing of the power
which acts through what we call all time and all space; but seeing that
there is a nature or fixed order in all things known to us, it is
conformable to the nature of our minds to believe that this universal
Nature has a cause which operates continually, and that we are totally
unable to speculate on the reason of any of those disorders or evils
which we perceive. This I believe is the answer which may be collected
from all that Antoninus has said.

The origin of evil is an old question. Achilles tells Priam that Zeus
has two casks, one filled with good things, and the other with bad, and
that he gives to men out of each according to his pleasure; and so we
must be content, for we cannot alter the will of Zeus. One of the Greek
commentators asks how must we reconcile this doctrine with what we find
in the first book of the Odyssey, where the king of the gods says, “Men
say that evil comes to them from us, but they bring it on themselves
through their own folly.” The answer is plain enough even to the Greek
commentator. The poets make both Achilles and Zeus speak appropriately
to their several characters. Indeed, Zeus says plainly that men do
attribute their sufferings to the gods, but they do it falsely, for
they are the cause of their own sorrows.

Epictetus in his Enchiridion makes short work of the question of evil.
He says, “As a mark is not set up for the purpose of missing it, so
neither does the nature of evil exist in the universe.” This will
appear obscure enough to those who are not acquainted with Epictetus,
but he always knows what he is talking about. We do not set up a mark
in order to miss it, though we may miss it. God, whose existence
Epictetus assumes, has not ordered all things so that his purpose shall
fail. Whatever there may be of what we call evil, the nature of evil,
as he expresses it, does not exist; that is, evil is not a part of the
constitution or nature of things. If there were a principle of evil in
the constitution of things, evil would no longer be evil, as Simplicius
argues, but evil would be good.

One passage more will conclude this matter. It contains all that the
emperor could say: “To go from among men, if there are gods, is not a
thing to be afraid of, for the gods will not involve thee in evil; but
if indeed they do not exist, or if they have no concern about human
affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid of gods or
devoid of providence? But in truth they do exist, and they do care for
human things, and they have put all the means in man’s power to enable
him not to fall into real evils. And as to the rest, if there was
anything evil, they would have provided for this also, that it should
be altogether in a man’s power not to fall into it. But that which does
not make a man worse, how can it make a man’s life worse? But neither
through ignorance, nor having the knowledge but not the power to guard
against or correct these things, is it possible that the nature of the
universe has overlooked them; nor is it possible that it has made so
great a mistake, either through want of power or want of skill, that
good and evil should happen indiscriminately to the good and the bad.
But death certainly and life, honor and dishonor, pain and pleasure,
all these things equally happen to good and bad men, being things which
make us neither better nor worse. Therefore they are neither good nor
evil.”

The Ethical part of Antoninus’ Philosophy follows from his general
principles. The end of all his philosophy is to live conformably to
Nature, both a man’s own nature and the nature of the universe. Bishop
Butler has explained what the Greek philosophers meant when they spoke
of living according to Nature, and he says that when it is explained,
as he has explained it and as they understood it, it is, “a manner of
speaking not loose and undeterminate, but clear and distinct, strictly
just and true.” To live according to Nature is to live according to a
man’s whole nature, not according to a part of it, and to reverence the
divinity within him as the governor of all his actions. “To the
rational animal the same act is according to nature and according to
reason.” That which is done contrary to reason is also an act contrary
to nature, to the whole nature, though it is certainly conformable to
some part of man’s nature, or it could not be done. Man is made for
action, not for idleness or pleasure. As plants and animals do the uses
of their nature, so man must do his (V. 1).

Man must also live conformably to the universal nature, conformably to
the nature of all things of which he is one; and as a citizen of a
political community he must direct his life and actions with reference
to those among whom, and for whom, among other purposes, he lives. A
man must not retire into solitude and cut himself off from his
fellow-men. He must be ever active to do his part in the great whole.
All men are his kin, not only in blood, but still more by participating
in the same intelligence and by being a portion of the same divinity. A
man cannot really be injured by his brethren, for no act of theirs can
make him bad, and he must not be angry with them nor hate them: “For we
are made for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, like
the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act against one another then
is contrary to nature; and it is acting against one another to be vexed
and to turn away” (II. 1).

Further he says: “Take pleasure in one thing, and rest in it in passing
from one social act to another social act, thinking of God” (VI. 7).
Again: “Love mankind. Follow God” (VI. 31). It is the characteristic of
the rational soul for a man to love his neighbor (XI. 1). Antoninus
teaches in various passages the forgiveness of injuries, and we know
that he also practiced what he taught. Bishop Butler remarks that “this
divine precept to forgive injuries and to love our enemies, though to
be met with in Gentile moralists, yet is in a peculiar sense a precept
of Christianity, as our Saviour has insisted more upon it than on any
other single virtue.” The practise of this precept is the most
difficult of all virtues. Antoninus often enforces it and gives us aid
towards following it. When we are injured, we feel anger and
resentment, and the feeling is natural, just, and useful for the
conservation of society. It is useful that wrong-doers should feel the
natural consequences of their actions, among which is the
disapprobation of society and the resentment of him who is wronged. But
revenge, in the proper sense of that word, must not be practiced. “The
best way of avenging thyself,” says the emperor, “is not to become
like, the wrongdoer.” It is plain by this that he does not mean that we
should in any case practise revenge; but he says to those who talk of
revenging wrongs, “Be not like him who has done the wrong. When a man
has done thee any wrong, immediately consider with what opinion about
good or evil he has done wrong. For when thou hast seen this, thou wilt
pity him, and wilt neither wonder nor be angry” (VII. 26). Antoninus
would not deny that wrong naturally produces the feeling of anger and
resentment, for this is implied in the recommendation to reflect on the
nature of the man’s mind who has done the wrong, and then you will have
pity instead of resentment; and so it comes to the same as St. Paul’s
advice to be angry and sin not; which, as Butler well explains it, is
not a recommendation to be angry, which nobody needs, for anger is a
natural passion, but it is a warning against allowing anger to lead us
into sin. In short the emperor’s doctrine about wrongful acts is this:
wrong-doers do not know what good and bad are: they offend out of
ignorance, and in the sense of the Stoics this is true. Though this
kind of ignorance will never be admitted as a legal excuse, and ought
not to be admitted as a full excuse in any way by society, there may be
grievous injuries, such as it is in a man’s power to forgive without
harm to society; and if he forgives because he sees that his enemies
know not what they do, he is acting in the spirit of the sublime
prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

The emperor’s moral philosophy was not a feeble, narrow system, which
teaches a man to look directly to his own happiness, though a man’s
happiness or tranquillity is indirectly promoted by living as he ought
to do. A man must live conformably to the universal nature, which
means, as the emperor explains it in many passages, that a man’s
actions must be conformable to his true relations to all other human
beings, both as a citizen of a political community and as a member of
the whole human family. This implies, and he often expresses it in the
most forcible language, that a man’s words and action, so far as they
affect others, must be measured by a fixed rule, which is their
consistency with the conservation and the interests of the particular
society of which he is a member, and of the whole human race. To live
conformably to such a rule, a man must use his rational faculties in
order to discern clearly the consequences and full effect of all his
actions and of the actions of others: he must not live a life of
contemplation and reflection only, though he must often retire within
himself to calm and purify his soul by thought, but he must mingle in
the work of man and be a fellow-laborer for the general good.

A man should have an object or purpose in life, that he may direct all
his energies to it; of course a good object (II. 7). He who has not one
object or purpose of life, cannot be one and the same all through his
life (XI. 21). Bacon has a remark to the same effect, on the best means
of “reducing of the mind unto virtue and good estate; which is, the
electing and propounding unto a man’s self good and virtuous ends of
his life, such as may be in a reasonable sort within his compass to
attain.” He is a happy man who has been wise enough to do this when he
was young and has had the opportunities; but the emperor seeing well
that a man cannot always be so wise in his youth, encourages himself to
do it when he can, and not to let life slip away before he has begun.
He who can propose to himself good and virtuous ends of life, and be
true to them, cannot fail to live conformably to his own interest and
the universal interest, for in the nature of things they are one. If a
thing is not good for the hive, it is not good for the bee (VI. 54).

One passage may end this matter. “If the gods have determined about me
and about the things which must happen to me, they have determined
well, for it is not easy even to imagine a deity without forethought;
and as to doing me harm, why should they have any desire towards that?
For what advantage would result to them from this or to the whole,
which is the special object of their providence? But if they have not
determined about me individually, they have certainly determined about
the whole at least; and the things which happen by way of sequence in
this general arrangement I ought to accept with pleasure and to be
content with them. But if they determine about nothing—which it is
wicked to believe, or if we do believe it, let us neither sacrifice nor
pray nor swear by them, nor do anything else which we do as if the gods
were present and lived with us; but if however the gods determine about
none of the things which concern us, I am able to determine about
myself, and I can inquire about that which is useful; and that is
useful to every man which is conformable to his own constitution and
nature. But my nature is rational and social; and my city and country,
so far as I am Antoninus, is Rome; but so far as I am a man, it is the
world.”

It would be tedious, and it is not necessary to state the emperor’s
opinions on all the ways in which a man may profitably use his
understanding towards perfecting himself in practical virtue. The
passages to this purpose are in all parts of his book, but as they are
in no order or connection, a man must use the book a long time before
he will find out all that is in it. A few words may be added here. If
we analyze all other things, we find how insufficient they are for
human life, and how truly worthless many of them are. Virtue alone is
indivisible, one, and perfectly satisfying. The notion of Virtue cannot
be considered vague or unsettled, because a man may find it difficult
to explain the notion fully to himself, or to expound it to others in
such a way as to prevent cavilling. Virtue is a whole, and no more
consists of parts than man’s intelligence does; and yet we speak of
various intellectual faculties as a convenient way of expressing the
various powers which man’s intellect shows by his works. In the same
way we may speak of various virtues or parts of virtue, in a practical
sense, for the purpose of showing what particular virtues we ought to
practise in order to the exercise of the whole of virtue, that is, as
much as man’s nature is capable of.

The prime principle in man’s constitution is social. The next in order
is not to yield to the persuasions of the body, when they are not
conformable to the rational principle, which must govern. The third is
freedom from error and from deception. “Let then the ruling principle
holding fast to these things go straight on and it has what is its own”
(VII. 53). The emperor selects justice as the virtue which is the basis
of all the rest (X. 11), and this had been said long before his time.

It is true that all people have some notion of what is meant by justice
as a disposition of the mind, and some notion about acting in
conformity to this disposition; but experience shows that men’s notions
about justice are as confused as their actions are inconsistent with
the true notion of justice. The emperor’s notion of justice is clear
enough, but not practical enough for all mankind. “Let there be freedom
from perturbations with respect to the things which come from the
external cause; and let there be justice in the things done by virtue
of the internal cause, that is, let there be movement and action
terminating in this, in social acts, for this is according to thy
nature” (IX. 31). In another place (IX. 1) he says that “he who acts
unjustly acts impiously,” which follows of course from all that he says
in various places. He insists on the practice of truth as a virtue and
as a means to virtue, which no doubt it is: for lying even in
indifferent things weakens the understanding; and lying maliciously is
as great a moral offence as a man can be guilty of, viewed both as
showing an habitual disposition, and viewed with respect to
consequences. He couples the notion of justice with action. A man must
not pride himself on having some fine notion of justice in his head,
but he must exhibit his justice in act.

The Stoics, and Antoninus among them, call some things beautiful and
some ugly, and as they are beautiful so they are good, and as they are
ugly so they are evil, or bad (II. 1). All these things, good and evil,
are in our power, absolutely some of the stricter Stoics would say; in
a manner only, as those who would not depart altogether from common
sense would say; practically they are to a great degree in the power of
some persons and in some circumstances, but in a small degree only in
other persons and in other circumstances. The Stoics maintain man’s
free will as to the things which are in his power; for as to the things
which are out of his power, free will terminating in action is of
course excluded by the very terms of the expression. I hardly know if
we can discover exactly Antoninus’ notion of the free will of man, nor
is the question worth the inquiry. What he does mean and does say is
intelligible. All the things which are not in our power are
indifferent: they are neither good nor bad, morally. Such are life,
health, wealth, power, disease, poverty, and death. Life and death are
all men’s portion. Health, wealth, power, disease, and poverty happen
to men, indifferently to the good and to the bad; to those who live
according to nature and to those who do not. “Life,” says the emperor,
“is a warfare and a stranger’s sojourn, and after fame is oblivion”
(II. 17). After speaking of those men who have disturbed the world and
then died, and of the death of philosophers such as Heraclitus, and
Democritus, who was destroyed by lice, and of Socrates whom other lice
(his enemies) destroyed, he says: “What means all this? Thou hast
embarked, thou hast made the voyage, thou art come to shore; get out.
If indeed to another life, there is no want of gods, not even there.
But if to a state without sensation, thou wilt cease to be held by
pains and pleasures, and to be a slave to the vessel which is as much
inferior as that which serves it is superior: for the one is
intelligence and Deity; the other is earth and corruption” (III. 3). It
is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning
to live according to nature (XII. 1). Every man should live in such a
way as to discharge his duty, and to trouble himself about nothing
else. He should live such a life that he shall always be ready for
death, and shall depart content when the summons comes. For what is
death? “A cessation of the impressions through the senses, and of the
pulling of the strings which move the appetites, and of the discursive
movements of the thoughts, and of the service to the flesh” (VI. 28).
Death is such as generation is, a mystery of nature (IV. 5). In another
passage (IX. 3), the exact meaning of which is perhaps doubtful, he
speaks of the child which leaves the womb, and so he says the soul at
death leaves its envelope.

Antoninus’ opinion of a future life is nowhere clearly expressed. His
doctrine of the nature of the soul of necessity implies that it does
not perish absolutely, for a portion of the divinity cannot perish. The
opinion is at least as old as the time of Epicharmus and Euripides;
what comes from earth goes back to earth, and what comes from heaven,
the divinity, returns to him who gave it. But I find nothing clear in
Antoninus as to the notion of the man existing after death so as to be
conscious of his sameness with that soul which occupied his vessel of
clay. He seems to be perplexed on this matter, and finally to have
rested in this, that God or the gods will do whatever is best, and
consistent with the university of things.

Nor, I think, does he speak conclusively on another Stoic doctrine,
which some Stoics practiced,—the anticipating the regular course of
nature by a man’s own act. The reader will find some passages in which
this is touched on, and he may make of them what he can. But there are
passages in which the emperor encourages himself to wait for the end
patiently and with tranquillity; and certainly it is consistent with
all his best teaching that a man should bear all that falls to his lot
and do useful acts as long as he lives. He should not therefore abridge
the time of his usefulness by his own act.

Happiness was not the direct object of a Stoic’s life. There is no rule
of life contained in the precept that a man should pursue his own
happiness. Many men think that they are seeking happiness when they are
only seeking the gratification of some particular passion, the
strongest that they have. The end of a man is, as already explained, to
live conformably to nature, and he will thus obtain happiness,
tranquillity of mind, and contentment (III. 12; VIII 2). As a means of
living conformably to nature he must study the four chief virtues, each
of which has its proper sphere: wisdom, or the knowledge of good and
evil; justice, or the giving to every man his due; fortitude, or the
enduring of labor and pain; and temperance, which is moderation in all
things. By thus living conformably to nature the Stoic obtained all
that he wished or expected. His reward was in his virtuous life, and he
was satisfied with that.

Epictetus and Antoninus both by precept and example labored to improve
themselves and others; and if we discover imperfections in their
teaching, we must still honor these great men who attempted to show
that there is in man’s nature and in the constitution of things
sufficient reason for living a virtuous life. It is difficult enough to
live as we ought to live, difficult even for any man to live in such a
way as to satisfy himself, if he exercises only in a moderate degree
the power of reflecting upon and reviewing his own conduct; and if all
men cannot be brought to the same opinions in morals and religion, it
is at least worth while to give them good reasons for as much as they
can be persuaded to accept.

FOOTNOTES:

 [1] This passage is corrupt, and the exact meaning is uncertain.

 [2] Lorium was a villa on the coast north of Rome, and there Antoninus
 was brought up, and he died there. This also is corrupt.

 [3] This is corrupt.

 [4] Antoninus here uses the word κόσμος both in the sense of the
 Universe and of Order; and it is difficult to express his meaning.

 [5] This is corrupt.

 [6] It appears that there is a defect in the text here.

 [7] The story is told by Horace in his Satires and by others since,
 but not better.

 [8] “Seen even with the eyes.” It is supposed that this may be
 explained by the Stoic doctrine, that the universe is a god or living
 being (IV. 40), and that the celestial bodies are gods (VIII. 19). But
 the emperor may mean that we know that the gods exist, as he
 afterwards states it, because we see what they do; as we know that man
 has intellectual powers, because we see what he does, and in no other
 way do we know it.

 [9] The Stoics made three divisions of philosophy,—Physic, Ethic, and
 Logic (VIII. 13). This division, we are told by Diogenes, was made by
 Zeno of Citium, the founder of the Stoic sect, and by Chrysippus; but
 these philosophers placed the three divisions in the following
 order,—Logic, Physic, Ethic. It appears, however, that this division
 was made before Zeno’s time, and acknowledged by Plato, as Cicero
 remarks. Logic is not synonymous with our term Logic in the narrower
 sense of that word.
    Cleanthes, a Stoic, subdivided the three divisions, and made
    six,—Dialectic and Rhetoric, comprised in Logic; Ethic and Politic;
    Physic and Theology. This division was merely for practical use,
    for all Philosophy is one. Even among the earliest Stoics Logic, or
    Dialectic, does not occupy the same place as in Plato: it is
    considered only as an instrument which is to be used for the other
    divisions of Philosophy. An exposition of the earlier Stoic
    doctrines and of their modifications would require a volume. My
    object is to explain only the opinions of Antoninus, so far as they
    can be collected from his book.
    According to the subdivision of Cleanthes, Physic and Theology go
    together, or the study of the nature of Things, and the study of
    the nature of the Deity, so far as man can understand the Deity,
    and of his government of the universe. This division or subdivision
    is not formally adopted by Antoninus, for, as already observed,
    there is no method in his book; but it is virtually contained in
    it.
    Cleanthes also connects Ethic and Politic, or the study of the
    principles of morals and the study of the constitution of civil
    society; and undoubtedly he did well in subdividing Ethic into two
    parts, Ethic in the narrower sense and Politic; for though the two
    are intimately connected, they are also very distinct, and many
    questions can only be properly discussed by carefully observing the
    distinction. Antoninus does not treat of Politic. His subject is
    Ethic, and Ethic in its practical application to his own conduct in
    life as a man and as a governor. His Ethic is founded on his
    doctrines about man’s nature, the Universal Nature, and the
    relation of every man to everything else. It is therefore
    intimately and inseparably connected with Physic, or the nature of
    Things, and with Theology, or the Nature of the Deity. He advises
    us to examine well all the impressions on our minds and to form a
    right judgment of them, to make just conclusions, and to inquire
    into the meaning of words, and so far to apply Dialectic; but he
    has no attempt at any exposition of Dialectic, and his philosophy
    is in substance purely moral and practical. He says, “Constantly
    and, if it be possible, on the occasion of every Impression on the
    soul, apply to it the principles of Physic, of Ethic, and of
    Dialectic”: which is only another way of telling us to examine the
    impression in every possible way. In another passage (III. 11) he
    says, “To the aids which have been mentioned, let this one still be
    added: make for thyself a definition or description of the object
    which is presented to thee, so as to see distinctly what kind of a
    thing it is in its substance, in its nudity, in its complete
    entirety, and tell thyself its proper name, and the names of the
    things of which it has been compounded, and into which it will be
    resolved.” Such an examination implies a use of Dialectic, which
    Antoninus accordingly employed as a means towards establishing his
    Physical, Theological, and Ethical principles.