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<h1>The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus</h1>
<p style="text-align: center;font-variant: small-caps;font-size: small">A new rendering based on the Foulis translation of 1742</p>
<p style="text-align: center;font-variant: small-caps">by George W. Chrystal</p>
<p style="text-align: center;font-variant: small-caps;font-size: xx-small">Warner exhibitioner of Balliol College, Oxford</p>
<p style="text-align: center;font-variant: small-caps;font-size: small">Edinburgh<br/>
Otto Schulze & Company<br/>
20 South Frederic Street<br/>
London: S. C. Brown & Company<br/>
47 Great Russell Street, W.C.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;font-variant: small-caps">1902</p>
<h2 id="I">Book I.</h2>
<p><b id="I_1">1.</b> I learned from my grandfather, Verus, to use good manners, and to
put restraint on anger. <b id="I_2">2.</b> In the famous memory of my father I had a
pattern of modesty and manliness. <b id="I_3">3.</b> Of my mother I learned to be
pious and generous; to keep myself not only from evil deeds, but even
from evil thoughts; and to live with a simplicity which is far from
customary among the rich. <b id="I_4">4.</b> I owe it to my great-grandfather that I
did not attend public lectures and discussions, but had good and able
teachers at home; and I owe him also the knowledge that for things of
this nature a man should count no expense too great.</p>
<p><b id="I_5">5.</b> My tutor taught me not to favour either green or blue at the
chariot races, nor, in the contests of gladiators, to be a supporter
either of light or heavy armed. He taught me also to endure labour;
not to need many things; to serve myself without troubling others; not
to intermeddle in the affairs of others, and not easily to listen to
slanders against them.</p>
<p><b id="I_6">6.</b> Of Diognetus I had the lesson not to busy myself about vain things;
not to credit the great professions of such as pretend to work
wonders, or of sorcerers about their charms, and their expelling of
Demons and the like; not to keep quails (for fighting or divination),
nor to run after such things; to suffer freedom of speech in others,
and to apply myself heartily to philosophy. Him also I must thank for
my hearing first Bacchius, then Tandasis and Marcianus; that I wrote
dialogues in my youth, and took a liking to the philosopher’s pallet
and skins, and to the other things which, by the Grecian discipline,
belong to that profession.</p>
<p><b id="I_7">7.</b> To Rusticus I owe my first apprehensions that my nature needed
reform and cure; and that I did not fall into the ambition of the
common Sophists, either by composing speculative writings or by
declaiming harangues of exhortation in public; further, that I never
strove to be admired by ostentation of great patience in an ascetic
life, or by display of activity and application; that I gave over the
study of rhetoric, poetry, and the graces of language; and that I did
not pace my house in my senatorial robes, or practise any similar
affectation. I observed also the simplicity of style in his letters,
particularly in that which he wrote to my mother from Sinuessa. I
learned from him to be easily appeased, and to be readily reconciled
with those who had displeased me or given cause of offence, so soon as
they inclined to make their peace; to read with care; not to rest
satisfied with a slight and superficial knowledge; nor quickly to
assent to great talkers. I have him to thank that I met with the
discourses of Epictetus, which he furnished me from his own library.</p>
<p><b id="I_8">8.</b> From Apollonius I learned true liberty, and tenacity of purpose; to
regard nothing else, even in the smallest degree, but reason always;
and always to remain unaltered in the agonies of pain, in the losses
of children, or in long diseases. He afforded me a living example of
how the same man can, upon occasion, be most yielding and most
inflexible. He was patient in exposition; and, as might well be seen,
esteemed his fine skill and ability in teaching others the principles
of philosophy as the least of his endowments. It was from him that I
learned how to receive from friends what are thought favours without
seeming humbled by the giver or insensible to the gift.</p>
<p><b id="I_9">9.</b> Sextus was my pattern of a benign temper, and his family the model
of a household governed by true paternal affection, and a steadfast
purpose of living according to nature. Here I could learn to be grave
without affectation, to observe sagaciously the several dispositions
and inclinations of my friends, to tolerate the ignorant and those who
follow current opinions without examination. His conversation showed
how a man may accommodate himself to all men and to all companies; for
though companionship with him was sweeter and more pleasing than any
sort of flattery, yet he was at the same time highly respected and
reverenced. No man was ever more happy than he in comprehending,
finding out, and arranging in exact order the great maxims necessary
for the conduct of life. His example taught me to suppress even the
least appearance of anger or any other passion; but still, with all
this perfect tranquillity, to possess the tenderest and most
affectionate heart; to be apt to approve others yet without noise; to
have much learning and little ostentation.</p>
<p><b id="I_10">10.</b> I learned from Alexander the Grammarian to avoid censuring others,
to refrain from flouting them for a barbarism, solecism, or any false
pronunciation. Rather was I dexterously to pronounce the words rightly
in my answer, confining approval or objection to the matter itself,
and avoiding discussion of the expression, or to use some other form
of courteous suggestion.</p>
<p><b id="I_11">11.</b> Fronto made me sensible how much of envy, deceit and hypocrisy
surrounds princes; and that generally those whom we account nobly born
have somehow less natural affection.</p>
<p><b id="I_12">12.</b> I learned from Alexander the Platonist not often nor without great
necessity to say, or write to any man in a letter, that I am not at
leisure; nor thus, under pretext of urgent affairs, to make a practice
of excusing myself from the duties which, according to our various
ties, we owe to those with whom we live.</p>
<p><b id="I_13">13.</b> Of Catulus I learned not to condemn any friend’s expostulation
even though it were unjust, but to try to recall him to his former
disposition; to stint no praise in speaking of my masters, as is
recounted of Domitius and Athenodorus; and to love my children with
true affection.</p>
<p><b id="I_14">14.</b> Of Severus, my brother, I learned to love my kinsmen, to love
truth, to love justice. Through him I came to know Thrasea, Helvidius,
Cato, Dion, and Brutus. He gave me my first conception of a
Commonwealth founded upon equitable laws and administered with
equality of right; and of a Monarchy whose chief concern is the
freedom of its subjects. Of him I learned likewise a constant and
harmonious devotion to Philosophy; to be ready to do good, to be
generous with all my heart. He taught me to be of good hope and
trustful of the affection of my friends. I observed in him candour in
declaring what he condemned in the conduct of others; and so frank and
open was his behaviour, that his friends might easily see without the
trouble of conjecture what he liked or disliked.</p>
<p><b id="I_15">15.</b> The counsels of Maximus taught me to command myself, to judge
clearly, to be of good courage in sickness and other misfortunes, to
be moderate, gentle, yet serious in disposition, and to accomplish my
appointed task without repining. All men believed that he spoke as he
thought; and whatever he did, they knew it was done with good intent.
I never found him surprised or astonished at anything. He was never in
a hurry, never shrank from his purpose, was never at a loss or
dejected. He was no facile smiler, but neither was he passionate or
suspicious. He was ready to do good, to forgive, and to speak the
truth, and gave the impression of unperverted rectitude rather than of
a reformed character. No man could ever think himself despised by
Maximus, and no one ever ventured to think himself his superior. He
had also a good gift of humour.</p>
<p><b id="I_16">16.</b> I learned from my father gentleness and undeviating constancy in
judgments formed after due reflection; not to be puffed up with glory
as men understand it; to be laborious and assiduous. He taught me to
give ready hearing to any man who offered anything tending to the
common good; to mete out impartial justice to every one; to apprehend
rightly when severity and when clemency should be used; to abstain
from all impure lusts; and to use humanity towards all men. Thus he
left his friends at liberty to sup with him or not, to go abroad with
him or not, exactly as they inclined; and they found him still the
same if some urgent business had prevented them from obeying his
commands. I learned of him accuracy and patience in council, for he
never quitted an enquiry satisfied with first impressions. I observed
his zeal to retain his friends without being fickle or over fond; his
contentment in every condition; his cheerfulness; his forethought
about very distant events; his unostentatious attention to the
smallest details; his restraint of all popular applause and
flattery. Ever watchful of the needs of the Empire, a careful steward
of the public revenue, he was tolerant of the censure of others in
affairs of that kind. He was neither a superstitious worshipper of the
Gods, nor an ambitious pleaser of men, nor studious of popularity, but
in all things sober and steadfast, well skilled in what was
honourable, never affecting novelties. As to the things which make the
ease of life, and which fortune can supply in such abundance, he used
them without pride, and yet with all freedom: enjoyed them without
affectation when they were present, and when absent he found no want
of them. No man could call him sophist, buffoon, or pedant. He was a
man of ripe experience, a full man, one who could not be flattered,
and who could govern himself as well as others. I further observed
that he honoured all who were true philosophers, without upbraiding
the rest, and without being led astray by any. His manners were easy,
his conversation delightful, but not cloying. He took regular but
moderate care of his body, neither as one over fond of life or of the
adornment of his person, nor as one who despised these things. Thus,
through his own care, he seldom needed any medicines, whether salves
or potions. It was his special merit to yield without envy to any who
had acquired any special faculty, as either eloquence, or learning in
the Law, in ancient customs, or the like; and he aided such men
strenuously, so that every one of them might be regarded and esteemed
for his special excellence. He observed carefully the ancient customs
of his forefathers, and preserved, without appearance of affectation,
the ways of his native land. He was not fickle and capricious, and
loved not change of place or employment. After his violent fits of
headache he would return fresh and vigorous to his wonted affairs. Of
secrets he had few, and these seldom, and such only as concerned
public matters. He displayed discretion and moderation in exhibiting
shows for the entertainment of the people, in his public works, in
largesses and the like; and in all those things he acted like one who
regarded only what was right and becoming in the things themselves,
and not the reputation that might follow after. He never bathed at
unseasonable hours, had no vanity in building, was never solicitous
either about his food or about the make or colour of his clothes, or
about the beauty of his servants. His dress came from Lorium—his
villa on the coast—and was of Lanuvian wool for the most part. It
is remembered how he used the tax-collector at Tusculum who asked his
pardon, and all his behaviour was of a piece with that. He was far
from being inhuman, or implacable, or violent; never doing anything
with such keenness that one could say he was sweating about it, in all
things he reasoned distinctly, as one at leisure, calmly, regularly,
resolutely, and consistently. A man might fairly apply that to him
which is recorded of Socrates: that he could both abstain from and
enjoy these things, in want whereof many show themselves weak, and, in
the possession, intemperate. To be strong in abstinence and temperate
in enjoyment, to be sober in both—these are qualities of a man of
perfect and invincible soul, as was shown in the sickness of Maximus.</p>
<p><b id="I_17">17.</b> To the Gods I owe it that I had good grandfathers and parents, a
good sister, good teachers, good servants, good kinsmen, and friends,
good almost all of them. I have to thank them that I never through
haste and rashness offended any of them; though my temper was such as
might have led me to it had occasion offered. But by their goodness no
such concurrence of circumstances happened as could discover my
weakness. I am further thankful that I was not longer brought up with
my grandfather’s concubine, that I retained my modesty, and refrained
even longer than need have been from the pleasures of love. To the
Gods it is due that I lived under the government of such a prince and
father as could take from me all vain glory, and convince me that it
was not impossible for a prince to live in a court without guards,
gorgeous robes, torches, statues, or such pieces of state and
magnificence; but that he may reduce himself almost to the state of a
private man, and yet not become more mean or remiss in those public
affairs wherein power and authority are requisite. I thank the Gods
that I have had such a brother as by his disposition might stir me to
take care of myself, while at the same time he delighted me by his
respect and love. I thank them that my children neither wanted good
natural dispositions nor were deformed in body. I owe it to their good
guidance that I made no greater progress in rhetoric and poetry, and
in other studies which might have engrossed my mind had I found myself
successful in them. By the Gods’ grace I forestalled the wishes of
those by whom I was brought up, in promoting them to the dignities
they seemed most to desire; and I did not put them off with the hope
that, since they were but young, I would do it hereafter. I owe to the
Gods that I ever knew Apollonius, Rusticus and Maximus; that I have
had occasion often and effectually to meditate with myself and enquire
what is truly the life according to Nature. And, as far as lies within
the dispensation of the Gods to give suggestion, help, or inspiration,
there is nothing to prevent my having already realized that life. I
have fallen short of it by my own fault, and because I gave no heed to
the inward monitions and almost direct instructions of the Gods, to
whom be thanks that my body hath so long endured the stress of such a
life as I have led. By their goodness I never had to do with either
Benedicta or Theodotus; and afterwards, when I fell into some foolish
passions, I was soon cured. I give thanks that, having often been
displeased with Rusticus, I never did anything to him which afterwards
I might have had occasion to repent; that, though my mother was
destined to die young, she lived with me all her latter years; that,
as often as I inclined to succour any who were either poor or had
fallen into some distress, I was never answered that there was not
ready money enough to do it, and that I myself never had need of the
like succour from another. I must be grateful, too, that I have such a
wife, so obedient, so loving, so ingenuous; that I had choice of fit
and able men to whom I might commit the education of my children. I
have received divine aids in dreams; as in particular, how I might
stay my spitting of blood and cure my vertigo; which good fortune
happily fell to me at Caieta. The Gods watched over me also when I
first applied myself to philosophy. For I fell not into the hands of
any Sophist, nor sat poring over many volumes, nor devoted myself to
solving syllogisms, or star-gazing. That all these things should so
happily fall out there was great need both for the help of fortune and
for the aid of the Gods.</p>
<p class="chpost">in the country of the<br/>
quadi, by the granua.</p>
<p class="chend">END OF THE FIRST BOOK.</p>
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