<h2 id="XI">Book XI.</h2>
<p><b id="XI_1">1.</b> These are the characteristics of the rational soul: It beholds
itself; it regulates itself in every part; it fashions itself as it
wills; the fruit it bears itself enjoys, whereas the products of
plants and of the lower animals are enjoyed by others. It reaches its
individual end, wheresoever the close of life may overtake it. In a
dance or an actor’s part any interruption spoils the completeness of
the whole action. Not so with the rational soul. At whatever point in
its action, or wheresoever it is overtaken by death, it makes its part
complete and all-sufficient; so that it can say, “I have received what
is mine.” Also it ranges through the whole universe, and the void
around it, and discerns its plan. It stretches forth into limitless
eternity, and grasps the periodical regeneration of all things, seeing
and comprehending that those who come after us will see nothing new,
and that those that went before saw no more than we have seen. Nay, a
man of forty, of any tolerable understanding, has, because of the
uniformity of things, seen, in a manner, all that has been or will
be. Characteristic of the rational soul also are:—Love to all around
us, truth, modesty; and respect for itself above all other things,
which is characteristic also of the general law. Thus there is no
discordance between right reason and the reason of justice.</p>
<p><b id="XI_2">2.</b> You will think little of a pleasing song, a dance, or a gymnastic
display, if you analyse the melody into its separate notes, and ask
yourself regarding each, “Does this impress me?” You will blush to own
it; and so also if you analyse the dance into its single motions and
postures, and if you similarly treat the gymnastic display. In general
then, except as regards virtue and virtuous action, remember to recur
to the constituent parts of things, and by dissecting to despise them;
and transfer this practice to life as a whole.</p>
<p><b id="XI_3">3.</b> How happy is the soul that stands ready to part from the body when
it must, and either to be extinguished or to be scattered, or to
survive! But let this readiness arise from individual judgment, not
from mere obstinacy, as with the Christians, but deliberately, with
dignity, and with no affected air of tragedy; so that others may be
led to a like disposition.</p>
<p><b id="XI_4">4.</b> Have I done anything for the common good? Is not this itself my
advantage? Let this thought be ever with you, and desist not.</p>
<p><b id="XI_5">5.</b> What is your art? Well doing. And how else can this come than from
sound general principles regarding Nature as a whole, and the
constitution of man in particular?</p>
<p><b id="XI_6">6.</b> First of all, tragedy was introduced to remind us that certain
events happen, and are fated to happen as they do; and to teach us
that what entertains us on the stage should not grieve us on the
greater stage of the world. You see that such things must be
accomplished; and that even they bore them who cried aloud, O
Cithaeron! Our dramatic poets have said some excellent things;
especially the following:—</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Me and my children, if the Gods neglect,<br/>
It is for some good reason—</p>
</blockquote>
<p>and again,</p>
<blockquote><p>Vain is all anger at external things;</p>
</blockquote>
<p>and,</p>
<blockquote><p>To reap our life like ears of ripened corn—</p>
</blockquote>
<p>and the like.</p>
<p>And after tragedy came the Old Comedy, using a schoolmaster’s freedom
of speech, and employing plain language with great profit to inculcate
the duty of humility. To this end Diogenes used a method much the
same. Next consider the nature of the Middle Comedy; and lastly for
what purpose the New was introduced, which gradually degenerated into
the mere ingenuity of artificial mimicry. It is well known that some
useful things were said by the New Comic Writers; but what useful end
had they in view in all their accumulated poetry and playmaking?</p>
<p><b id="XI_7">7.</b> How manifest it is that no other course of life was more adapted to
the practice of philosophy than that which now is yours.</p>
<p><b id="XI_8">8.</b> A branch cut off from its adjacent branch must necessarily be
severed from the whole tree. Even so a man, parted from any
fellow-man, has fallen away from the whole social community. Now a
branch is cut off by some external agency; but a man by his own action
separates himself from his neighbour—by hatred and aversion, unaware
that he has thus torn himself away from the universal polity. Yet
there is always given us the good gift of Zeus, who founded the great
community, whereby it is in our power to be reingrafted on our kind,
and to become once more, natural parts completing the whole. Yet the
frequent happening of such separations, makes the reunion and
restoration of the separated member more and more difficult. And in
general a branch which has grown from the first upon a tree, and
remained a living part of it, is not like one which has been cut and
reingrafted; as the gardeners would say, they are of the same growth
but of different persuasion.</p>
<p><b id="XI_9">9.</b> As those who oppose you in the path of right reason have no power
to divert you from sane action, so let them not turn you away from
amenity towards themselves. Be watchful alike to persist in stable
judgment and action, and in meekness towards those who would hinder or
otherwise molest you. It is equally weak to grow angry with them or to
desist from action and submit to defeat. Both are equally deserters—
he who runs away, and he who refuses to stand by friend and kinsman.</p>
<p><b id="XI_10">10.</b> Nature cannot be inferior to Art. The Arts are but imitations of
Nature. If this be so, that Nature which is the most perfect and
comprehensive of all cannot be inferior to the best artistic
skill. Now all Arts use inferior material for higher purposes; so also
then does universal Nature. Hence the origin of justice, from which
again the other virtues spring. Justice cannot be preserved if we are
solicitous about things indifferent, if we are easily deceived, rash,
and changeable.</p>
<p><b id="XI_11">11.</b> If those things, the pursuit and avoidance of which trouble you,
come not to you; but, as it happens, you go to them; then let your
judgment be at peace concerning them, they will remain motionless, and
you will no more be seen pursuing or avoiding them.</p>
<p><b id="XI_12">12.</b> The sphere of the soul attains to perfect shape when it neither
expands to what is without, nor contracts upon what is within; neither
wrinkles nor collapses, but shines with a radiance whereby it discerns
the truth of all things, both without itself and within.</p>
<p><b id="XI_13">13.</b> Does any man contemn me? Let him look to that. And let me look to
it that I be found doing or saying nothing worthy of his
contempt. Does any one hate me? That is his affair. I shall be kind
and good-natured to every one, and ready to shew his mistake to him
that hates me; not in order to upbraid him, or to make a show of my
patience, but from genuine goodness, like Phocion, if he indeed was
sincere. Your inward character should be such that the Gods may see
you neither angry nor repining at anything. What evil is it for you
now to act according to your nature, and to accept now what is
seasonable to the nature of the Universe; you, a man appointed to do
some service for the common good?</p>
<p><b id="XI_14">14.</b> Although they despise, yet they flatter one another. Although they
desire to overtop, yet they cringe to one another.</p>
<p><b id="XI_15">15.</b> How rotten and insincere is his profession who says, “I mean to
deal straightforwardly with you.” What are you doing, man? There is no
need for such a preface. It will appear of itself. Such a profession
should be written clearly on your forehead. A man’s character should
shine forth clearly from his eyes; as the beloved sees that he is so
in the glances of those that love him. The straightforward, good man
should be like one of rank odour who can be recognised by the passer
by as soon as he approaches, whether he will or no. The ostentation of
straightforwardness is the knife under the cloak. Nothing is baser
than wolf-friendship. Shun it above all things. The good,
straightforward, kindly man bears all these qualities in his eyes, and
is not to be mistaken.</p>
<p><b id="XI_16">16.</b> To live the best life is within the power of the soul, if it be
indifferent to indifferent things. And it will be indifferent if it
looks on all such things, severally and wholly, with discrimination;
mindful that not one of them can impose upon us an opinion concerning
itself, or can come of itself to us. Things stand motionless without;
and it is we that form opinions about them within, and, as it were,
write these opinions upon our hearts. We may avoid so writing them;
or, if one has crept in unawares, we may instantly blot it out. ’Tis
but for a short time that we shall need this vigilance, and then life
will cease. For the rest, why should we hold this to be difficult? If
it be according to Nature, rejoice in it, and it will become easy for
you. If it be contrary to Nature, search out what suits your nature,
and follow it diligently, even though it be attended with no glory;
for every man will be forgiven for seeking his own proper good.</p>
<p><b id="XI_17">17.</b> Consider whence each thing came, of what it was compounded, into
what it will be changed, how it will be with it when changed, and that
it will suffer no evil.</p>
<p><b id="XI_18">18.</b> As to those who offend me, let me consider:— <i>First</i>, how I am related to mankind; that we are formed, the one for
the other; and that, in another respect, I was set over them as the
ram over the flock, and the bull over the herd. Consider yet more
deeply, thus:—There is either an empire of atoms, or an intelligent
Nature governing the whole. If the latter, the inferior beings are
created for the superior, and the superior for each other.</p>
<p><i>Secondly</i>: Consider what manner of men they are at table, in bed, or
elsewhere; and especially by what principles they hold themselves
bound, and with what arrogance they entertain them.</p>
<p><i>Thirdly</i>: If they act rightly, we ought not to take it amiss; and, if
not rightly, manifestly they do so without intention and in
ignorance. For no soul is willingly deprived of truth, or of the
faculty of treating every man as he deserves. Accordingly men are
grieved to be called unjust, ungrateful, greedy, and, in short,
sinners against their neighbours.</p>
<p><i>Fourthly</i>: You yourself do often sin, and are no better than
another. And, if you abstain from certain sins, still you have the
disposition to commit them, even if through cowardice, fear for your
character, or other meanness, you hold back.</p>
<p><i>Fifthly</i>: You cannot even be perfectly sure that wrong has been done,
for many things admit of justification. And, generally speaking, a man
must have learned much before he can pronounce surely upon the conduct
of others.</p>
<p><i>Sixthly</i>: When you are vexed or worried overmuch, remember that man’s
life is but for a moment, and that in a little we shall all be laid to
rest.</p>
<p><i>Seventhly</i>: It is not the acts of others that disturb us. Their actions
reside in their own souls. Our own opinions alone disturb us. Away
with them then; will that you entertain no thought of calamity
befallen you, and the anger is gone. But how remove them? By
reasoning that there is no dishonour; for, if you hold not that
dishonour alone is evil, verily you must fall into many crimes, you
may become a robber, or any sort of villain.</p>
<p><i>Eighthly</i>: How much worse evils we suffer from anger and grief about
certain things than from the things themselves about which these
passions arise.</p>
<p><i>Ninthly</i>: Meekness is invincible if it be genuine, without simper or
hypocrisy. For what can the most insolent of men do to you, if you
persist in civility towards him; and, if occasion offers, admonish him
gently and deliberately, shew him the better way at the very moment
that he is endeavouring to harm you? “Nay, my son; we were born for
something better. No hurt can come to me; it is yourself you hurt, my
son.” And point out to him delicately, and as a general principle, how
the matter stands; that bees and other gregarious animals do not act
like him. But this must be done without irony or reproach, rather with
loving-kindness and no bitterness of spirit; not as though you were
reading him a lesson, or seeking admiration from any bystander, but as
if you designed your remarks for him alone, though others may be
present.</p>
<p>Remember these nine precepts as gifts received from the Muses; and
begin now to be human for the rest of your life. Beware equally of
being angry with men and of flattering them. Both are unsocial and
lead to mischief. In all anger recollect that wrath is not becoming to
a man; but that meekness and gentleness, as they are more human, are
also more manly. Strength and nerves and courage are the portion of
the meek and gentle man; and not of the irascible and impatient. For
the nearer a man attains to freedom from passion, the nearer he comes
to strength. A weak man in grief is like a weak man in anger. Both are
hurt, and both give way.</p>
<p>If you want a tenth gift, from the Leader of the Muses, take this:—
To expect the wicked not to sin is madness. It is to expect an
impossibility. But to allow them to injure others, and to forbid them
to injure you, is foolish and tyrannical.</p>
<p><b id="XI_19">19.</b> There are four states of the soul against which you must
continually and especially be upon your guard; and which, when
detected, should be effaced, by remarking thus of each. “This thought
is unnecessary. This tends to social dissolution. You could not say
this from your heart; and to speak otherwise than from the heart you
must regard as the most absurd conduct.” And, fourthly, whatever
causes self-reproach is an overpowering or subjection of the diviner
part within you to the less honourable and mortal part, the body, and
to its grosser tendencies.</p>
<p><b id="XI_20">20.</b> The serial and igneous parts of which you are compounded, although
they naturally tend upwards, nevertheless obey the general law of the
Universe, and are retained here in composition. The earthy and humid
parts of you, though they naturally tend downwards, are nevertheless
supported and remain where they are, although not in their natural
situation. Thus the elements, wheresoever placed by the superior
power, obey the whole; waiting till the signal shall sound again for
their dissolution. Is it not grievous that the intellectual part alone
should be disobedient, and fret at its function? Yet is no violence
done to it, nothing imposed contrary to its nature. Still it is
impatient, and tends to opposition. For all its tendencies towards
injustice, debauchery, wrath, sorrows, and fears are so many
departures from Nature. And, when the soul frets at any particular
event, it is deserting its appointed station. It is formed for
holiness and piety toward God, no less than for justice. These last
are branches of social goodness even more venerable than the practice
of justice.</p>
<p><b id="XI_21">21.</b> He whose aim in life is not always one and the same cannot himself
be one and the same through his whole life. But singleness of aim is
not sufficient, unless you consider also what that aim ought to
be. For, as there is not agreement of opinion regarding all those
things which are reckoned good by the majority, but only as regards
some of them such as are of public utility; so your aim should be
social and political. For he alone who directs all his personal aims
to such an end can reach a uniform course of conduct, and thus be ever
the same man.</p>
<p><b id="XI_22">22.</b> Remember the country mouse and the town mouse; and how the latter
feared and trembled.</p>
<p><b id="XI_23">23.</b> Socrates called the maxims of the vulgar hobgoblins, bogies to
frighten children.</p>
<p><b id="XI_24">24.</b> The Spartans at their public shows set seats for strangers in the
shade, but sat themselves where they found room.</p>
<p><b id="XI_25">25.</b> Socrates made this excuse for not going to Perdiccas upon his
invitation: “Lest I should come to the worst of all ends, by receiving
favours which I could not return.”</p>
<p><b id="XI_26">26.</b> In the writings of the Ephesians there is a precept, frequently to
call to remembrance some of those who cultivated virtue of old.</p>
<p><b id="XI_27">27.</b> The Pythagoreans recommended that we should look at the heavens in
the morning, to put us in mind of beings that go on doing their proper
work uniformly and continuously; and of their order, purity and naked
simplicity; for there is no veil upon a star.</p>
<p><b id="XI_28">28.</b> Think of Socrates clad in a skin, when Xanthippe had taken his
cloak and gone out; and what he said to his friends, who were ashamed,
and would have left him when they saw him dressed in such an
extraordinary fashion.</p>
<p><b id="XI_29">29.</b> In writing and reading you must be led before you can lead. Much
more is this so in life.</p>
<blockquote>
<p><b id="XI_30">30.</b>
Yourself a slave, your speech cannot be free.</p>
</blockquote>
<blockquote><p><b id="XI_31">31.</b>And my heart laughed within me.</p>
</blockquote>
<blockquote><p><b id="XI_32">32.</b>Virtue herself they blame with harshest words.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><b id="XI_33">33.</b> To look for figs in winter is madness; and so it is to long for a
child that may no longer be yours.</p>
<p><b id="XI_34">34.</b> Epictetus said that, when you kiss your child, you should whisper
within yourself: “To-morrow perhaps he may die.” “Ill-omened words!”
say you. “The words have no evil omen,” says he, “but simply indicate
an act of Nature. Is it of evil omen to say the corn is reaped?”</p>
<p><b id="XI_35">35.</b> The green grape, the ripe cluster, the dried grape are all
changes, not into nothing, but into that which is not at present.</p>
<p><b id="XI_36">36.</b> No man can rob you of your liberty of action; as has been said by
Epictetus.</p>
<p><b id="XI_37">37.</b> He tells us also that we must find out the true art of assenting;
and in treating of our impulses he says that we must be vigilant in
restraining them, that they may act with proper reservation, with
public spirit, with due sense of proportion; also that we should
refrain utterly from sensual passion; and not be restive in matters
where we have no control.</p>
<p><b id="XI_38">38.</b> The contention is not about any chance matter, said he, but as to
whether we are insane or sane.</p>
<p><b id="XI_39">39.</b> What do you desire? says Socrates. To have the souls of rational
beings or of irrational? Rational. Rational of what kind, virtuous or
vicious? Virtuous. Why then do you not seek after such souls? Because
we have them already. Why then do you fight and stand at variance?</p>
<p class="chend">END OF THE ELEVENTH BOOK.</p>
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