<h2 id="IX">Book IX.</h2>
<p><b id="IX_1">1.</b> He who does injustice commits impiety. For since universal Nature
has formed the rational animals for one another; each to be useful to
the other according to his merit, and never hurtful; he who
transgresses this her will is clearly guilty of impiety against the
most ancient and venerable of the Gods.</p>
<p>He who lies sins against the same divinity. For the nature of the
whole is the nature of all things which exist; and things which exist
are akin to all that has come to be. Nature, indeed, is called truth,
and is the first cause of all truths. He, then, that lies willingly is
guilty of impiety, in so far as by deceiving he works injury: and he
also who lies unwillingly, in so far as he is out of tune with
universal Nature, and in so far as he works disorder in the Universe
by fighting against its design. He is at war with Nature who sets
himself against the truth. He has neglected the means with which
Nature furnished him, and cannot now distinguish false from true.</p>
<p>He, too, who pursues pleasure as good, and shuns pain as evil, is
guilty of impiety. Such a one must needs frequently blame the common
nature for unseemly awards of fortune to bad and to good men. For the
bad often enjoy pleasures and possess the means to attain them, and
the good often meet with pain and with what causes pain. Again, he who
dreads pain must sometimes dread a thing which will make part of the
world order, and this is impious. And he who pursues pleasure will not
abstain from injustice, and this is clear impiety. In those things to
which the common nature is indifferent (for she had not made both,
were she not indifferent to either), he who would follow Nature ought,
in this also, to be of like mind with her, and shew the like
indifference. And whoever is not indifferent to pain and pleasure,
life and death, glory and ignominy, all of which universal Nature uses
indifferently, is clearly impious. By Nature using them indifferently,
I mean that they befall indifferently all beings which exist, and
ensue upon others in the great chain of consequence which began in the
primal impulse of Providence. Providence, in pursuance of this
impulse, and starting from a definite beginning, set about this fair
structure of the universe when she had conceived the plan of all that
was to be, and appointed the distinct powers which were to produce the
several substances, changes, and successions.</p>
<p><b id="IX_2">2.</b> It were the more desirable lot to depart from among men,
unacquainted with falsehood, hypocrisy, luxury, or vanity. The next
choice were to expire when cloyed with these vices. Have you then
chosen rather to abide in evil; or has experience not yet persuaded
you to fly from amidst the plague? For a corruption of the mind is far
more a plague than any pestilential distemper or change in the
surrounding air we breathe. The one is pestilence to animals as
animals: but the other to men as men.</p>
<p><b id="IX_3">3.</b> Despise not death; but receive it well content, as one of the
things which Nature wills. For even as it is to be young, to be old,
to grow up, to be full grown; even as it is to breed teeth, and beard,
and to grow grey, to beget, to go with child, to be delivered; and to
undergo all the effects of nature which life’s seasons bring; such is
it also to be dissolved in death. It becomes not therefore a man of
wisdom to be careless, or impatient, or ostentatiously contemptuous
about death; he should rather await its coming as one of the
operations of nature. Even as now you await the season when the child
of your wife’s body shall issue into the light, await the hour when
your soul shall fall out of these its teguments. If you wish for the
common sort of comfort, here is a thought which goes to the heart. You
will be completely resigned to death if you consider the things you
are about to leave, and the morals of that confused crowd from which
your soul is to be disengaged. It is far from right to be offended
with them. It is even your duty to have a tender care for them, and to
bear with them mildly. Yet remember that the parting, when it comes,
will not be with men who think as you think. For the only thing which,
if it might be, could hold you back and detain you in life, would be
to live with those who had reached the same principles of life as
you. But, as it is, you, seeing how great is the fatigue and toil
arising from the jarring courses of those who live together, may cry:
“Haste, death! lest I, too, should forget myself.”</p>
<p><b id="IX_4">4.</b> The sinner sins against himself. The wrong-doer wrongs himself by
making himself evil.</p>
<p><b id="IX_5">5.</b> Men are often unjust by omissions as well as by actions.</p>
<p><b id="IX_6">6.</b> Be satisfied with your present opinion, if certain; with your
present course of action, if social; with your present mood, if well
pleased with all that comes upon you from without.</p>
<p><b id="IX_7">7.</b> Wipe out impression; stay impulse; quench desire; and keep the
governing part master of itself.</p>
<p><b id="IX_8">8.</b> The soul distributed among the irrational animals is one. Rational
beings, on the other hand, partake of one reasoning intelligence. Even
so, there is one earth to all things earthy; and, for all of us who
are endowed with sight and breath, there is one light by which to see,
one air to breathe.</p>
<p><b id="IX_9">9.</b> All things that share a common quality are strongly drawn to that
which is of their own kind. The earthy tends towards the earth; fluids
flow together, aerial bodies likewise; and naught but force prevents
their confluence. Fire rises upward on account of the elemental fire;
and it is so ready to join in kindling with all the fire that is here
that any matter pretty dry is easily set on fire, because that which
hinders its kindling is the weaker element in its composition. Thus
also, then, whatever partakes of the common intellectual nature
hastens in like manner, or even more markedly, towards that which is
akin to it. For the more it excels other natures, the stronger is its
tendency to mix with and adhere to its kind. Accordingly, among
irrational creatures we find swarms of bees, herds of cattle, nurture
of the young, and love, of a sort. For even in animals there is a
soul; and in the more noble natures a mutual attraction is found to be
at work, such as does not exist in plants, or stones, or wood. Among
the rational animals, again, there are societies and friendships,
families and assemblies; and, in war, treaties and truces. Among
beings still more excellent, there subsists, though they be placed far
asunder, a certain kind of union, as among the stars. Thus ascent in
the scale can produce a sympathy even in things that are widely
distant. But mark what happens among us. It is only intellectual
beings who forget the social concern for one another, and the mutual
tendency to union. Here alone the social confluence is not seen. Yet
are they environed and held by it, though they strive to escape; and
nature always prevails. Observe and you will see my meaning: for
sooner may one find some earthy thing which joins with nothing earthy,
than a man severed and separate from all men.</p>
<p><b id="IX_10">10.</b> Man, God, and the Universe, all bear fruit; and each in their own
season. Custom indeed has appropriated the expression to vines and the
like; but that is nothing. Reason has its fruit both for all men and
for itself, and produces just such other things as reason itself is.</p>
<p><b id="IX_11">11.</b> If you can, teach men better. If not, remember that the virtue of
charity was given you to be used in such a case. Nay, the Gods are
patient with them, and even aid them in their pursuit of some things
such as health, wealth, and glory, so gracious are they! You may be so
too. Who hinders you?</p>
<p><b id="IX_12">12.</b> Bear toil and pain, not as if wretched under it, nor as courting
pity or admiration. Wish for one thing only; always to act or to
refrain as social wisdom requires.</p>
<p><b id="IX_13">13.</b> To-day I have escaped from all trouble; or rather I have cast out
all trouble from me. For it was not without but within, in my own
opinions.</p>
<p><b id="IX_14">14.</b> All things are, in our experience, common; in their continuance
but for a day; and in their matter sordid. All things now are as they
were in the times of those we have buried.</p>
<p><b id="IX_15">15.</b> Things stand without, by themselves, neither knowing or declaring
aught to us concerning themselves. What is it then that pronounces
upon them? The ruling part.</p>
<p><b id="IX_16">16.</b> It is not in passive feeling, but in action, that the good and
evil of the rational animal formed for society consists. Similarly his
virtue or his vice lies not in feeling but in action.</p>
<p><b id="IX_17">17.</b> To the stone thrown up it is no evil to fall; no good to rise.</p>
<p><b id="IX_18">18.</b> Penetrate the souls of men, and you will see what judges you fear,
and how they sit in judgment on themselves.</p>
<p><b id="IX_19">19.</b> All things are in change. You yourself are under continual
transmutation, and, in some sort, corruption. So is the whole
universe.</p>
<p><b id="IX_20">20.</b> Another’s sin you must leave with himself.</p>
<p><b id="IX_21">21.</b> The ceasing of any action, the extinction of any keen desire, or
of any opinion, is as it were a death to them. This is no evil. Think
again of the ages of your life; childhood, youth, manhood, old
age. Each change of these was a death. Is there anything to dread
here? Think now of your life as it was, first under your grandfather,
then under your mother, then under your father; and, as you find there
many other alterations, changes, and endings, ask yourself: Is there
anything to dread here? Thus neither is there anything to dread in the
cessation, ending, and change of your whole life.</p>
<p><b id="IX_22">22.</b> Make swift appeal to your own ruling part, to that of the
Universe, and to his who has offended you. To your own, that you may
make it a mind disposed to justice; to that of the Universe, that you
may remember of what you are a part; and to his, that you may know
whether he has acted in ignorance or by design, and that you may also
reflect that he is your kinsman.</p>
<p><b id="IX_23">23.</b> You yourself are a part of a social system necessary to complete
the whole. Accordingly, let your every action be a similar part of the
social life. And if any action has not its reference, either immediate
or distant, to the common good as its end, this action disorders your
life and frustrates its unity. It is sedition like that of the man
who, in a commonwealth, does all in his power to sever himself from
the general harmony and concord.</p>
<p><b id="IX_24">24.</b> Children’s quarrels! Child’s play! Poor spirits carrying about
dead corpses! Such is our life. The ‘Masque of the Dead’ is
intelligible by comparison.</p>
<p><b id="IX_25">25.</b> Go to the quality of the cause; abstract it from the material, and
contemplate it by itself. Determine then the time: how long, at
furthest, this thing, of this peculiar quality, can naturally subsist.</p>
<p><b id="IX_26">26.</b> You have endured innumerable sufferings by not being satisfied
with your own ruling part when it does the things which it was formed
to do. Enough then of that.</p>
<p><b id="IX_27">27.</b> When another reproaches or hates you, or utters anything to that
purpose; go to his soul; enter in there; and look what manner of man
he is. You will see that you need not trouble yourself to make him
think well or ill of you. Yet you should be kindly towards such men,
for they are by nature your friends: and the Gods, too, aid them in
all ways; by dreams, by oracles, and even in the things about which
they are most eager.</p>
<p><b id="IX_28">28.</b> The course of things in the world is ever the same; a continual
rotation; up and down, from age to age. Either the Universal Mind
exerts itself in every particular event, in which case you must accept
what comes immediately from it: or it has exerted itself once and for
all, and, as a result, all things go on for ever, in a necessary chain
of consequence: or again atoms and indivisible particles are the
origin of all things. In fine, if there be a God, all is well; and if
there be only chance, you at least need not act by chance.</p>
<p>The earth will presently cover us all; and then this earth will itself
be changed into other forms, and these again into others, and so on
without end. And, if any one considers how swiftly those changes and
transmutations roll on, like one wave upon another, he will despise
all things mortal.</p>
<p><b id="IX_29">29.</b> The universal cause is like a winter torrent. It sweeps all along
with it. How very little worth are those poor creatures who pretend to
understand affairs of state, and imagine they unite in themselves the
statesman and the philosopher! The frothy fools! Do you, O man! that
which Nature now requires of you. Set about it if you have the means;
and look not around you to see if any be taking notice, neither hope
to realize Plato’s Republic. Be satisfied if the smallest thing go
well. Consider even such an event as no small matter. For who can
change the opinions of men? And without change of opinion what is
their state but a slavery, under which they groan, while they pretend
to obey? Come now; speak of Alexander, Philip, and Demetrius of
Phalerum. They know best whether they understood what the common
nature required of them, and whether they trained themselves
accordingly. But, if they designed only to play the tragic hero, no
one has condemned me to do the like. The work of philosophy is simple
and modest. Lead me not astray in pursuit of a vainglorious
stateliness.</p>
<p><b id="IX_30">30.</b> Look down, as from some eminence, upon the innumerable herds, the
countless solemn festivals, the voyaging of every sort, in tempests
and in calms; the different states of those who come into life, enter
upon life’s associations, and leave it in the end. Consider, too, the
life which others have lived formerly, the life they will live after
you, and the life that barbarous peoples are now living. How many of
these know not even your name; how many will quickly forget it; how
many are there who perhaps praise you now, but will shortly blame
you. Reflect, then, that neither is surviving fame a thing of value;
nor present glory; nor anything at all.</p>
<p><b id="IX_31">31.</b> Let nothing due to a cause outside yourself disturb your calm. In
the workings of the active principle within you let there be justice:
that is a bent of will and a course of action which have social good
as their one end, and so are suited to your nature.</p>
<p><b id="IX_32">32.</b> You can suppress many of the superfluous troubles which beset you,
for they lie wholly in your own opinion. By this you will give ample
room and ease to your life. You may compass this end by comprehending
the whole Universe in your judgment; by contemplating eternity; and by
reflecting on the swift changes of individual things, thinking how
short is the time from their birth to their dissolution, how immense
the space of ages before that birth, how equally infinite the eternity
which shall succeed that dissolution.</p>
<p><b id="IX_33">33.</b> All things that you see will quickly perish; and those who behold
them perishing are very soon themselves to die. And he who dies oldest
will be in like case with him who dies before his time.</p>
<p><b id="IX_34">34.</b> What manner of souls have these men? What is the end of their
striving; and on what accounts do they love and honour? Imagine their
souls naked before you. When they fancy that their censures hurt, or
their praises profit us, how great is their self-conceit!</p>
<p><b id="IX_35">35.</b> Loss is naught but change; in change is the joy of universal
Nature, and by her all things are ordered well. From the beginning of
ages they have been shaped alike, and to all eternity they will be the
same. How then can you say that all things have been, and ever will be
evil; that among so many Gods there has been found no power to
rectify; but that the Universe is condemned to endure the burden of
never-ending ill?</p>
<p><b id="IX_36">36.</b> How corrupt is the material substance of every thing, water, dust,
bones, and foulness! Again; marble is but the concrete humour of the
earth, gold and silver its heavy dregs. Our garments are but hair, the
purple dye blood. All else is of a like nature. Breath, too, is just
the same, ever changing from this to that.</p>
<p><b id="IX_37">37.</b> Enough of this wretched life: enough of repining and apish
trifling. Why are you disturbed? Are any of these troubles new? What
excites you so? Is it the cause?</p>
<p>Then view it well. Is it the matter? View it also well. Besides these
there is nothing. Wherefore at last act with more simplicity and
goodness towards the Gods. Whether you look on this spectacle for a
hundred years or for three it is the same.</p>
<p><b id="IX_38">38.</b> If he has done wrong, the evil is with him: and perhaps, too, he
has not done wrong.</p>
<p><b id="IX_39">39.</b> Either all things proceed from one source of intelligence and come
together in one body, in which case the part must not complain of what
comes about for the benefit of the whole; or all is atoms, and there
is nothing else but confused mixture and dissipation. Why then are you
disturbed? Say to your soul: “Thou art dead: thou art rotten: thou
hast turned beast, joined the herd, and dost feed along with them.”</p>
<p><b id="IX_40">40.</b> Either the Gods have power or they have none. If they have no
power, why do you pray? If they have power, why do you not choose to
pray to them for power neither to fear, nor to desire, nor to be
grieved over any of these external things, rather than for their
presence or their absence? Surely, if the Gods can aid man at all,
they can aid him in this. But perhaps you will say “the Gods have put
this in my own power.” Then is it not better to use that which is in
your own power and preserve your liberty, than to set your heart on
what is beyond your power and become an abject slave? And who has told
you that the Gods aid us not in these things also which are in our
power? Begin to pray about them and you will see. One man prays: “May
I possess that woman!” Do you pray: “May I have no wish to possess
her!” Another prays: “May I be delivered from so and so!” Pray you:
“May I not need to be delivered from him!” A third cries: “May I not
lose my child!” Let your prayer be: “May I not fear to lose him!” In
fine, turn your prayers this way, and observe what comes of it.</p>
<p><b id="IX_41">41.</b> Epicurus says: “In my sickness my conversations were not about the
diseases of this poor body; nor did I speak of any such things to
those who came to me. I continued to discourse as before on the
principles of natural Philosophy, and was chiefly intent on the
problem of how the mind, though it partakes in the violent commotions
of the flesh, might remain undisturbed and keep guard on its own
proper excellence. I permitted not the physicians,” he continues, “to
magnify their office, and vaunt themselves as if they were
doing-something of great moment, but my life continued pleasant and
happy.” What he did then, in sickness, do you also if ye fall ill, or
suffer any other misfortune. Never to depart from your philosophy
whatever befalls you, never to join in the folly of the vulgar and the
ignorant, is a maxim common to all the schools. Give your mind only to
the business now in hand and to the means whereby it is to be
accomplished.</p>
<p><b id="IX_42">42.</b> When you are offended by the shamelessness of any man, straightway
ask yourself: Can the world exist without shameless men? It
cannot. Therefore do not demand what is impossible. Your enemy also is
one of these shameless people who must needs be in the universe. Have
the same question also at hand when you are shocked at craft, or
perfidy, or any other sin. For while you remember that it is
impossible that the class should not exist, you will be more
charitable to each particular individual. It is useful also to have
this reflection ready: What virtue has nature given to man wherewith
to combat this fault? Against unreason she has given meekness as an
antidote; against another weakness another power. You are also at full
liberty to set right one who has wandered; now every wrong-doer is
missing his proper aim and has gone astray. And then, in what are you
injured? You will find that none of those at whom you are exasperated
have done anything whereby your intellectual part was like to be the
worse. Now anything which can really harm or hurt you has its
subsistence there, and there alone. And wherein is it strange or evil
that the man untaught acts after his kind? Look if you ought not
rather to blame yourself for not having laid your account with his
being guilty of such faults. Your reason gave you the means to
conclude that it was probable that he would do this wrong; you forgot,
and yet wonder that he has done it. But above all, when you are
blaming any one for faithlessness or ingratitude, turn to
yourself. The fault lies manifestly with you, if you trusted that a
man of such a disposition could keep faith; or if, when you granted
the favour, you did not grant it without ulterior views, and on the
principle that the complete and immediate reward of your action lay in
the doing of it. What would you more, when you have done a man a
kindness? Is it not enough for you that you have acted in this
according to your nature? Do you ask a reward for it? It is as if the
eye were to ask a reward for seeing, or the feet for walking. For just
as these parts are formed for a certain purpose, which when they
fulfil according to their proper structure, they attain their proper
end; so man, formed by nature to do kindness to his fellows, whenever
he acts kindly, or in any other way works for the common good, has
fulfilled the purpose of his creation, and has possession of what is
his own.</p>
<p class="chend">END OF THE NINTH BOOK.</p>
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