BOOK I.

[Illustration]

The Thoughts of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

LONG’S TRANSLATION

EDITED BY EDWIN GINN

Contents

PREFACE

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

THE THOUGHTS

PHILOSOPHY OF MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS

GENERAL INDEX

[TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: All the footnotes have been moved to the end of

the text. I have also relabeled the book headings; [I., II., … XI.] has

been changed to [BOOK I., BOOK II., … BOOK XI.] at the start of each

Section. I have also added a “1.” before the first “thought” in each

BOOK.]

PREFACE.

Perhaps some may question the wisdom of putting out the Thoughts of

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus to be used as a Reader by children in the

schools. It may appear to them better suited to the mature mind. The

principle, however, that has governed us in selecting reading for the

young has been to secure the best that we could find in all ages for

grown-up people. The milk and water diet provided for “my dear

children” is not especially complimentary to them. They like to be

treated like little men and women, capable of appreciating a good

thing. One finds in this royal philosopher a rare generosity, sweetness

and humility, qualities alike suited to all ages.

Adopting the philosopher’s robe at twelve, he remains a student all his

life. The precepts that he would give for the government of others, he

has practised upon himself. In his time, as in ours, there were good

physicians for the mind and body, who could make wise prescriptions for

the government of their neighbors, but were unable to apply them to

themselves. The faults of our fellows are so numerous and so easy to

cure that one is readily tempted to become the physician, while our own

faults are so few and so unimportant that it is hardly worth while to

give any attention to them. Hence we have a multitude of physicians for

humanity in general, and a scarcity of individual healers.

It was the doctrine of Marcus Aurelius that most of the ills of life

come to us from our own imagination, that it was not in the power of

others seriously to interfere with the calm, temperate life of an

individual, and that when a fellow being did anything to us that seemed

unjust he was acting in ignorance, and that instead of stirring up

anger within us it should stir our pity for him. Oftentimes by careful

self-examination we should find that the fault was more our own than

that of our fellow, and our sufferings were rather from our own

opinions than from anything real. The circle of man’s knowledge is very

limited, and the largest circles do not wholly include the smallest.

They are intersecting and the segment common to any two is very small.

Whatever lies outside this space does not exist for both. Hence arise

innumerable contests. The man having the largest intelligence ought to

be very generous to the other. Being thankful that he has been blessed

in so many ways, he should do all in his power to enlighten his less

favored fellow, rather than be angry with him on account of his

misfortune. Is he not sufficiently punished in being denied the light?

Assisting his uncle in the government of the great Roman Empire at

seventeen, it was his aim constantly to restrain the power of the

strong and to assist the weak. He studied the laws of his country, not

for wisdom alone, but that he might make them more beneficial to his

people. All his life he tried to bring his fellows to a higher level,

and to think charitably of each other. Occupying himself a palace he

lived simply, like other men. It was his greatest delight to retire to

his country home and there, dwelling among his books, to meditate upon

the great problems of life. He claimed that a man’s life should be

valued according to the value of the things to which he gave his

attention. If his whole thought was given to clothing, feeding and

housing himself comfortably, he should be valued like other well-housed

and well-fed animals. He would, however, derive the greatest pleasure

and benefit in this life by acting in accordance with reason, which

demands of every human being that his highest faculties should govern

all the rest, and that each should see to it that he treated his fellow

kindly and generously and that if he could not assist him to a higher

level he should at least not stand in his way. When he speaks of the

shortness of time and the value of fame, riches and power, for which

men strive in this world, he speaks not from the standpoint of one who

would wish to obtain these things, but as a Roman emperor enjoying the

highest honors that man might expect to attain in this world. He

certainly was in a position to speak intelligently concerning these

matters, and his opinions ought to have weight with the coming

generations. Children may not prefer to read such thoughts; perhaps the

majority of children do not prefer the Bible to other books. Still, we

all think it is well for them to be obliged to read it. Perhaps

requiring the use of such literature in the schools might be as

valuable as the adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing of

interminable numbers, the memorizing of all the capes, bays and rivers

in the world, and the dates of all the battles that have occurred since

the creation of man. We should strive to stimulate the thinking powers

of children, leading them to form wise judgments concerning the

important things of life, without catering too much to their own wishes

at an age when they cannot form an intelligent opinion of what is best

for themselves.

At our first reading of the Thoughts of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, we

marked many sentences that appeared to us specially good; in the

second, twice as many more. Where all is good it is hard to emphasize,

but we will cite just one of his reflections, as illustrating the trend

of his mind: “I have often wondered,” he says, “how it is that every

man loves himself more than all the rest of men, and yet sets less

value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion of others.”

We have given Long’s translation of the Thoughts complete, as published

by Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., but we have omitted some unimportant

portions of the biography and philosophy in the interest of space and

economy. We have also given the philosophy in a supplement, thinking it

better that it should come after the Thoughts themselves. We shall

issue a pocket edition on very thin paper for the convenience of such

as wish to make a special study of the work. We also propose to issue a

similar edition of the writings of Epictetus.

EDWIN GINN.

January 20, 1893.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS.

M. Antoninus, the son of Annius Verus and Domitia Calvilla, was born at

Rome, A.D. 121. The Emperor T. Antoninus Pius married Faustina, the

sister of Annius Verus, and was consequently the uncle of M. Antoninus.

When Hadrian adopted Antoninus Pius and declared him his successor in

the empire, Antoninus Pius adopted both L. Ceionius Commodus and M.

Antoninus, generally called M. Aurelius Antoninus.

The youth was most carefully brought up. He thanks the gods (I. 17)

that he had good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good

teachers, good associates, good kinsmen and friends, nearly everything

good. He had the happy fortune to witness the example of his uncle and

adoptive father, Antoninus Pius, and he has recorded in his work (I.

16; VI. 30) the virtues of this excellent man and prudent ruler. Like

many young Romans he tried his hand at poetry and studied rhetoric.

There are letters extant showing the great affection of the pupil for

the master, and the master’s great hopes of his industrious pupil.

When he was eleven years old he assumed the dress of philosophers,

something plain and coarse, became a hard student, and lived a most

laborious, abstemious life, even so far as to injure his health. He

abandoned poetry and rhetoric for philosophy, and attached himself to

the sect of the Stoics. But he did not neglect the study of law, which

was a useful preparation for the high place which he was designed to

fill. We must suppose that he learned the Roman discipline of arms,

which was a necessary part of the education of a man who afterwards led

his troops to battle against a warlike race.

Antoninus has recorded in his first book the names of his teachers, and

the obligations which he owed to each of them. The way in which he

speaks of what he learned from them might seem to savor of vanity or

self- praise, if we look carelessly at the way in which he has

expressed himself; but if anyone draws this conclusion, he will be

mistaken. Antoninus means to commemorate the merits of his several

teachers, what they taught, and what a pupil might learn from them.

Besides, this book, like the eleven other books, was for his own use;

and if we may trust the note at the end of the first book, it was

written during one of M. Antoninus’ campaigns against the Quadi, at a

time when the commemoration of the virtues of his illustrious teachers

might remind him of their lessons and the practical uses which he might

derive from them.

Among his teachers of philosophy was Sextus of Chaeroneia, a grandson

of Plutarch. What he learned from this excellent man is told by himself

(I. 9). His favorite teacher was Rusticus (I. 7), a philosopher, and

also a man of practical good sense in public affairs. Rusticus was the

adviser of Antoninus after he became emperor. Young men who are

destined for high places are not often fortunate in those who are about

them, their companions and teachers; and I do not know any example of a

young prince having had an education which can be compared with that of

M. Antoninus. Such a body of teachers distinguished by their

acquirements and their character will hardly be collected again; and as

to the pupil, we have not had one like him since.

Hadrian died in July, A.D. 138, and was succeeded by Antoninus Pius. M.

Antoninus married Faustina, his cousin, the daughter of Pius, probably

about A.D. 146, for he had a daughter born in A.D. 147. He received

from his adoptive father the title of Caesar, and was associated with

him in the administration of the state. The father and the adopted son

lived together in perfect friendship and confidence. Antoninus was a

dutiful son, and the emperor Pius loved and esteemed him.

Antoninus Pius died A.D. 161. The Senate, it is said, urged M.

Antoninus to take the sole administration of the empire, but he

associated with himself the other adopted son of Pius, L. Ceionius

Commodus, who is generally called L. Verus. Thus Rome for the first

time had two emperors. Verus was an indolent man of pleasure, and

unworthy of his station. Antoninus however bore with him, and it is

said that Verus had sense enough to pay to his colleague the respect

due to his character. A virtuous emperor and a loose partner lived

together in peace, and their alliance was strengthened by Antoninus

giving to Verus for wife his daughter Lucilla.

The reign of Antoninus was first troubled by a Parthian war, in which

Verus was sent to command; but he did nothing, and the success that was

obtained by the Romans in Armenia and on the Euphrates and Tigris was

due to his generals. This Parthian war ended in A.D. 165. Aurelius and

Verus had a triumph (A.D. 166) for the victories in the East. A

pestilence followed, which carried off great numbers in Rome and Italy,

and spread to the west of Europe.

The north of Italy was also threatened by the rude people beyond the

Alps from the borders of Gallia to the eastern side of the Hadriatic.

These barbarians attempted to break into Italy, as the Germanic nations

had attempted near three hundred years before; and the rest of the life

of Antoninus, with some intervals, was employed in driving back the

invaders. In A.D. 169 Verus suddenly died, and Antoninus administered

the state alone.

During the German wars Antoninus resided for three years on the Danube

at Carnuntum. The Marcomanni were driven out of Pannonia and almost

destroyed in their retreat across the Danube; and in A.D. 174 the

emperor gained a great victory over the Quadi.

In A.D. 175, Avidius Cassius, a brave and skilful Roman commander who

was at the head of the troops in Asia, revolted and declared himself

Augustus. But Cassius was assassinated by some of his officers, and so

the rebellion came to an end. Antoninus showed his humanity by his

treatment of the family and the partisans of Cassius; and his letter to

the Senate, in which he recommends mercy, is extant.

Antoninus set out for the East on hearing of Cassius’ revolt. Though he

appears to have returned to Rome in A.D. 174, he went back to prosecute

the war against the Germans, and it is probable that he marched direct

to the East from the German war. His wife Faustina, who accompanied him

into Asia, died suddenly at the foot of the Taurus, to the great grief

of her husband. Capitolinus, who has written the life of Antoninus, and

also Dion Cassius accuse the empress of scandalous infidelity to her

husband and of abominable lewdness. But Capitolinus says that Antoninus

either knew it not or pretended not to know it. Nothing is so common as

such malicious reports in all ages, and the history of imperial Rome is

full of them. Antoninus loved his wife, and he says that she was

“obedient, affectionate, and simple.” The same scandal had been spread

about Faustina’s mother, the wife of Antoninus Pius, and yet he too was

perfectly satisfied with his wife. Antoninus Pius says after her death

in a letter to Fronto that he would rather have lived in exile with his

wife than in his palace at Rome without her. There are not many men who

would give their wives a better character than these two emperors.

Capitolinus wrote in the time of Diocletian. He may have intended to

tell the truth, but he is a poor, feeble biographer. Dion Cassius, the

most malignant of historians, always reports and perhaps he believed

any scandal against anybody.

Antoninus continued his journey to Syria and Egypt, and on his return

to Italy through Athens he was initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries.

It was the practice of the emperor to conform to the established rites

of the age, and to perform religious ceremonies with due solemnity. We

cannot conclude from this that he was a superstitious man, though we

might perhaps do so if his book did not show that he was not. But this

is only one among many instances that a ruler’s public acts do not

always prove his real opinions. A prudent governor will not roughly

oppose even the superstitions of his people; and though he may wish

that they were wiser, he will know that he cannot make them so by

offending their prejudices.

Antoninus and his son Commodus entered Rome in triumph, perhaps for

some German victories, A.D. 176. In the following year Commodus was

associated with his father in the empire, and took the name of

Augustus. This year A.D. 177 is memorable in ecclesiastical history.

Attalus and others were put to death at Lyon for their adherence to the

Christian religion. The evidence of this persecution is a letter

preserved by Eusebius. It contains a very particular description of the

tortures inflicted on the Christians in Gallia, and it states that

while the persecution was going on, Attalus, a Christian and a Roman

citizen, was loudly demanded by the populace and brought into the

amphitheatre; but the governor ordered him to be reserved, with the

rest who were in prison, until he had received instructions from the

emperor. Many had been tortured before the governor thought of applying

to Antoninus. The imperial rescript, says the letter, was that the

Christians should be punished, but if they would deny their faith, they

must be released. On this the work began again. The Christians who were

Roman citizens were beheaded; the rest were exposed to the wild beasts

in the amphitheatre.

The war on the northern frontier appears to have been uninterrupted

during the visit of Antoninus to the East, and on his return the

emperor again left Rome to oppose the barbarians. The Germanic people

were defeated in a great battle A.D. 179. During this campaign the

emperor was seized with some contagious malady, of which he died in the

camp, A.D. 180, in the fifty-ninth year of his age. His son Commodus

was with him. The body, or the ashes probably, of the emperor were

carried to Rome, and he received the honor of deification. Those who

could afford it had his statue or bust; and when Capitolinus wrote,

many people still had statues of Antoninus among the Dei Penates or

household deities. He was in a manner made a saint. Commodus erected to

the memory of his father the Antonine column which is now in the Piazza

Colonna at Rome. The bassi rilievi which are placed in a spiral line

round the shaft commemorate the victories of Antoninus over the

Marcomanni and the Quadi, and the miraculous shower of rain which

refreshed the Roman soldiers and discomfited their enemies. The statue

of Antoninus was placed on the capital of the column, but it was

removed at some time unknown, and a bronze statue of St. Paul was put

in the place by Pope Sixtus the fifth.

In order to form a proper notion of the condition of the Christians

under M. Antoninus we must go back to Trajan’s time. When the younger

Pliny was governor of Bithynia, the Christians were numerous in those

parts, and the worshippers of the old religion were falling off. The

temples were deserted, the festivals neglected, and there were no

purchasers of victims for sacrifice. Those who were interested in the

maintenance of the old religion thus found that their profits were in

danger. Christians of both sexes and of all ages were brought before

the governor, who did not know what to do with them. He could come to

no other conclusion than this, that those who confessed to be

Christians and persevered in their religion ought to be punished; if

for nothing else, for their invincible obstinacy. He found no crimes

proved against the Christians, and he could only characterize their

religion as a depraved and extravagant superstition, which might be

stopped if the people were allowed the opportunity of recanting. Pliny

wrote this in a letter to Trajan. He asked for the emperor’s

directions, because he did not know what to do. He remarks that he had

never been engaged in judicial inquiries about the Christians, and that

accordingly he did not know what to inquire about or how far to inquire

and punish. This proves that it was not a new thing to examine into a

man’s profession of Christianity and to punish him for it. Trajan’s

rescript is extant. He approved of the governor’s judgment in the

matter, but he said that no search must be made after the Christians;

if a man was charged with the new religion and convicted, he must not

be punished if he affirmed that he was not a Christian and confirmed

his denial by showing his reverence to the heathen gods. He added that

no notice must be taken of anonymous informations, for such things were

of bad example. Trajan was a mild and sensible man; and both motives of

mercy and policy probably also induced him to take as little notice of

the Christians as he could, to let them live in quiet if it were

possible. Trajan’s rescript is the first legislative act of the head of

the Roman state with reference to Christianity, which is known to us.

It does not appear that the Christians were further disturbed under his

reign.

In the time of Hadrian it was no longer possible for the Roman

government to overlook the great increase of the Christians and the

hostility of the common sort to them. If the governors in the provinces

were willing to let them alone, they could not resist the fanaticism of

the heathen community, who looked on the Christians as atheists. The

Jews too, who were settled all over the Roman Empire, were as hostile

to the Christians as the Gentiles were. With the time of Hadrian begin

the Christian Apologies, which show plainly what the popular feeling

towards the Christians then was. A rescript of Hadrian to Minucius

Fundanus, the Proconsul of Asia, which stands at the end of Justin’s

first Apology, instructs the governor that innocent people must not be

troubled, and false accusers must not be allowed to extort money from

them; the charges against the Christians must be made in due form, and

no attention must be paid to popular clamors; when Christians were

regularly prosecuted and convicted of illegal acts, they must be

punished according to their deserts; and false accusers also must be

punished. Antoninus Pius is said to have published rescripts to the

same effect. The terms of Hadrian’s rescript seem very favorable to the

Christians; but if we understand it in this sense, that they were only

to be punished like other people for illegal acts, it would have had no

meaning, for that could have been done without asking the emperor’s

advice. The real purpose of the rescript is that Christians must be

punished if they persisted in their belief, and would not prove their

renunciation of it by acknowledging the heathen religion.

In the time of M. Antoninus the opposition between the old and the new

belief was still stronger, and the adherents of the heathen religion

urged those in authority to a more regular resistance to the invasions

of the Christian faith. Melito in his Apology to M. Antoninus

represents the Christians of Asia as persecuted under new imperial

orders. Shameless informers, he says, men who were greedy after the

property of others, used these orders as a means of robbing those who

were doing no harm. He doubts if a just emperor could have ordered

anything so unjust; and if the last order was really not from the

emperor, the Christians entreat him not to give them up to their

enemies. We conclude from this that there were at least imperial

rescripts or constitutions of M. Antoninus which were made the

foundation of these persecutions. The fact of being a Christian was now

a crime and punished, unless the accused denied their religion. Then

come the persecutions at Smyrna, which some modern critics place in

A.D. 167, ten years before the persecution of Lyon. The governors of

the provinces under M. Antoninus might have found enough even in

Trajan’s rescript to warrant them in punishing Christians, and the

fanaticism of the people would drive them to persecution, even if they

were unwilling. But besides the fact of the Christians rejecting all

the heathen ceremonies, we must not forget that they plainly maintained

that all the heathen religions were false. The Christians thus declared

war against the heathen rites, and it is hardly necessary to observe

that this was a declaration of hostility against the Roman government,

which tolerated all the various forms of superstition that existed in

the empire, and could not consistently tolerate another religion, which

declared that all the rest were false and all the splendid ceremonies

of the empire only a worship of devils.

If we had a true ecclesiastical history, we should know how the Roman

emperors attempted to check the new religion; how they enforced their

principle of finally punishing Christians, simply as Christians, which

Justin in his Apology affirms that they did, and I have no doubt that

he tells the truth; how far popular clamor and riots went in this

matter, and how far many fanatical and ignorant Christians—for there

were many such—contributed to excite the fanaticism on the other side

and to imbitter the quarrel between the Roman government and the new

religion. Our extant ecclesiastical histories are manifestly falsified,

and what truth they contain is grossly exaggerated; but the fact is

certain that in the time of M. Antoninus the heathen populations were

in open hostility to the Christians, and that under Antoninus’ rule men

were put to death because they were Christians. Eusebius, in the

preface to his fifth book, remarks that in the seventeenth year of

Antoninus’ reign, in some parts of the world, the persecution of the

Christians became more violent, and that it proceeded from the populace

in the cities; and he adds, in his usual style of exaggeration, that we

may infer from what took place in a single nation that myriads of

martyrs were made in the habitable earth. The nation which he alludes

to is Gallia; and he then proceeds to give the letter of the churches

of Vienna and Lugdunum. It is probable that he has assigned the true

cause of the persecutions, the fanaticism of the populace, and that

both governors and emperor had a great deal of trouble with these

disturbances. How far Marcus was cognizant of these cruel proceedings

we do not know, for the historical records of his reign are very

defective. He did not make the rule against the Christians, for Trajan

did that; and if we admit that he would have been willing to let the

Christians alone, we cannot affirm that it was in his power, for it

would be a great mistake to suppose that Antoninus had the unlimited

authority which some modern sovereigns have had. His power was limited

by certain constitutional forms, by the Senate, and by the precedents

of his predecessors. We cannot admit that such a man was an active

persecutor, for there is no evidence that he was, though it is certain

that he had no good opinion of the Christians, as appears from his own

words. But he knew nothing of them except their hostility to the Roman

religion, and he probably thought that they were dangerous to the

state, notwithstanding the professions false or true of some of the

Apologists. So much I have said, because it would be unfair not to

state all that can be urged against a man whom his contemporaries and

subsequent ages venerated as a model of virtue and benevolence. If I

admitted the genuineness of some documents, he would be altogether

clear from the charge of even allowing any persecutions; but as I seek

the truth and am sure that they are false, I leave him to bear whatever

blame is his due. I add that it is quite certain that Antoninus did not

derive any of his ethical principles from a religion of which he knew

nothing.

There is no doubt that the Emperor’s Reflections—or his Meditations, as

they are generally named—is a genuine work. In the first book he speaks

of himself, his family, and his teachers; and in other books he

mentions himself.

It is plain that the emperor wrote down his thoughts or reflections as

the occasions arose; and since they were intended for his own use, it

is no improbable conjecture that he left a complete copy behind him

written with his own hand; for it is not likely that so diligent a man

would use the labor of a transcriber for such a purpose, and expose his

most secret thoughts to any other eye. He may have also intended the

book for his son Commodus, who however had no taste for his father’s

philosophy.

The last reflection of the Stoic philosophy that I have observed is in

Simplicius’ Commentary on the Enchiridion of Epictetus. Simplicius was

not a Christian, and such a man was not likely to be converted at a

time when Christianity was grossly corrupted. But he was a really

religious man, and he concludes his commentary with a prayer to the

Deity which no Christian could improve. From the time of Zeno to

Simplicius, a period of about nine hundred years, the Stoic philosophy

formed the characters of some of the best and greatest men. A man’s

greatness lies not in wealth and station, as the vulgar believe, nor

yet in his intellectual capacity, which is often associated with the

meanest moral character, the most abject servility to those in high

places, and arrogance to the poor and lowly; but a man’s true greatness

lies in the consciousness of an honest purpose in life, founded on a

just estimate of himself and everything else, on frequent

self-examination, and a steady obedience to the rule which he knows to

be right, without troubling himself, as the emperor says he should not,

about what others may think or say, or whether they do or do not do

that which he thinks and says and does.

THE THOUGHTS OF MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS.

BOOK I.

1. From my grandfather Verus [I learned] good morals and the government

of my temper.

2. From the reputation and remembrance of my father, modesty and a

manly character.

3. From my mother, piety and beneficence, and abstinence, not only from

evil deeds, but even from evil thoughts; and further, simplicity in my

way of living, far removed from the habits of the rich.

4. From my great-grandfather, not to have frequented public schools,

and to have had good teachers at home, and to know that on such things

a man should spend liberally.

5. From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of the blue party

at the games in the Circus, nor a partisan either of the Parmularius or

the Scutarius at the gladiators’ fights; from him too I learned

endurance of labor, and to want little, and to work with my own hands,

and not to meddle with other people’s affairs, and not to be ready to

listen to slander.

6. From Diognetus, not to busy myself about trifling things, and not to

give credit to what was said by miracle-workers and jugglers about

incantations and the driving away of daemons and such things; and not

to breed quails [for fighting], nor to give myself up passionately to

such things; and to endure freedom of speech; and to have become

intimate with philosophy; and to have been a hearer, first of Bacchius,

then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written dialogues in my

youth; and to have desired a plank bed and skin, and whatever else of

the kind belongs to the Grecian discipline.

7. From Rusticus I received the impression that my character required

improvement and discipline; and from him I learned not to be led astray

to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on speculative matters, nor to

delivering little hortatory orations, nor to showing myself off as a

man who practices much discipline, or does benevolent acts in order to

make a display; and to abstain from rhetoric, and poetry, and fine

writing; and not to walk about in the house in my outdoor dress, nor to

do other things of the kind; and to write my letters with simplicity,

like the letter which Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa to my mother; and

with respect to those who have offended me by words, or done me wrong,

to be easily disposed to be pacified and reconciled, as soon as they

have shown a readiness to be reconciled; and to read carefully, and not

to be satisfied with a superficial understanding of a book; nor hastily

to give my assent to those who talk overmuch; and I am indebted to him

for being acquainted with the discourses of Epictetus, which he

communicated to me out of his own collection.

8. From Apollonius I learned freedom of will and undeviating steadiness

of purpose; and to look to nothing else, not even for a moment, except

to reason; and to be always the same, in sharp pains, on the occasion

of the loss of a child, and in long illness; and to see clearly in a

living example that the same man can be both most resolute and

yielding, and not peevish in giving his instruction; and to have had

before my eyes a man who clearly considered his experience and his

skill in expounding philosophical principles as the smallest of his

merits; and from him I learned how to receive from friends what are

esteemed favors, without being either humbled by them or letting them

pass unnoticed.

9. From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example of a family

governed in a fatherly manner, and the idea of living conformably to

nature; and gravity without affectation, and to look carefully after

the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons, and those

who form opinions without consideration: he had the power of readily

accommodating himself to all, so that intercourse with him was more

agreeable than any flattery; and at the same time he was most highly

venerated by those who associated with him: and he had the faculty both

of discovering and ordering, in an intelligent and methodical way, the

principles necessary for life; and he never showed anger or any other

passion, but was entirely free from passion, and also most

affectionate; and he could express approbation without noisy display,

and he possessed much knowledge without ostentation.

10. From Alexander the grammarian, to refrain from fault-finding, and

not in a reproachful way to chide those who uttered any barbarous or

solecistic or strange-sounding expression; but dexterously to introduce

the very expression which ought to have been used, and in the way of

answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an inquiry about the thing

itself, not about the word, or by some other fit suggestion.

11. From Fronto I learned to observe what envy and duplicity and

hypocrisy are in a tyrant, and that generally those among us who are

called Patricians are rather deficient in paternal affection.

12. From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor without necessity

to say to any one, or to write in a letter, that I have no leisure; nor

continually to excuse the neglect of duties required by our relation to

those with whom we live, by alleging urgent occupations.

13. From Catulus, not to be indifferent when a friend finds fault, even

if he should find fault without reason, but to try to restore him to

his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak well of teachers, as it

is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love my children truly.

14. From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to love truth, and to

love justice; and through him I learned to know Thrasea, Helvidius,

Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I received the idea of a polity in

which there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regard

to equal rights and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kingly

government which respects most of all the freedom of the governed; I

learned from him also consistency and undeviating steadiness in my

regard for philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and to give to

others readily, and to cherish good hopes, and to believe that I am

loved by my friends; and in him I observed no concealment of his

opinions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that his friends

had no need to conjecture what he wished or did not wish, but it was

quite plain.

15. From Maximus I learned self-government, and not to be led aside by

anything; and cheerfulness in all circumstances, as well as in illness;

and a just admixture in the moral character of sweetness and dignity,

and to do what was set before me without complaining. I observed that

everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and that in all that he

did he never had any bad intention; and he never showed amazement and

surprise, and was never in a hurry, and never put off doing a thing,

nor was perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to disguise his

vexation, nor, on the other hand, was he ever passionate or suspicious.

He was accustomed to do acts of beneficence, and was ready to forgive,

and was free from all falsehood; and he presented the appearance of a

man who could not be diverted from right, rather than of a man who had

been improved. I observed, too, that no man could ever think that he

was despised by Maximus, or ever venture to think himself a better man.

He had also the art of being humorous in an agreeable way.

16. In my father I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeable

resolution in the things which he had determined after due

deliberation; and no vain-glory in those things which men call honors;

and a love of labor and perseverance; and a readiness to listen to

those who had anything to propose for the common weal; and undeviating

firmness in giving to every man according to his deserts; and a

knowledge derived from experience of the occasions for vigorous action

and for remission. And I observed that he had overcome all passion for

boys; and he considered himself no more than any other citizen; and he

released his friends from all obligation to sup with him or to attend

him of necessity when he went abroad, and those who had failed to

accompany him, by reason of any urgent circumstances, always found him

the same. I observed, too, his habit of careful inquiry in all matters

of deliberation, and his persistency, and that he never stopped his

investigation through being satisfied with appearances which first

present themselves; and that his disposition was to keep his friends,

and not to be soon tired of them, nor yet to be extravagant in his

affection; and to be satisfied on all occasions, and cheerful; and to

foresee things a long way off, and to provide for the smallest without

display; and to check immediately popular applause and all flattery;

and to be ever watchful over the things which were necessary for the

administration of the empire, and to be a good manager of the

expenditure, and patiently to endure the blame which he got for such

conduct; and he was neither superstitious with respect to the gods, nor

did he court men by gifts or by trying to please them, or by flattering

the populace; but he showed sobriety in all things and firmness, and

never any mean thoughts or action, nor love of novelty. And the things

which conduce in any way to the commodity of life, and of which fortune

gives an abundant supply, he used without arrogance and without

excusing himself; so that when he had them, he enjoyed them without

affectation, and when he had them not, he did not want them. No one

could ever say of him that he was either a sophist or a [home-bred]

flippant slave or a pedant; but every one acknowledged him to be a man

ripe, perfect, above flattery, able to manage his own and other men’s

affairs. Besides this, he honored those who were true philosophers, and

he did not reproach those who pretended to be philosophers, nor yet was

he easily led by them. He was also easy in conversation, and he made

himself agreeable without any offensive affectation. He took a

reasonable care of his body’s health, not as one who was greatly

attached to life, nor out of regard to personal appearance, nor yet in

a careless way, but so that through his own attention he very seldom

stood in need of the physician’s art or of medicine or external

applications. He was most ready to give without envy to those who

possessed any particular faculty, such as that of eloquence or

knowledge of the law or of morals, or of anything else; and he gave

them his help, that each might enjoy reputation according to his

deserts; and he always acted conformably to the institutions of his

country, without showing any affectation of doing so. Further, he was

not fond of change nor unsteady, but he loved to stay in the same

places, and to employ himself about the same things; and after his

paroxysms of headache he came immediately fresh and vigorous to his

usual occupations. His secrets were not many, but very few and very

rare, and these only about public matters; and he showed prudence and

economy in the exhibition of the public spectacles and the construction

of public buildings, his donations to the people, and in such things,

for he was a man who looked to what ought to be done, not to the

reputation which is got by a man’s acts. He did not take the bath at

unseasonable hours; he was not fond of building houses, nor curious

about what he ate, nor about the texture and color of his clothes, nor

about the beauty of his slaves.[1] His dress came from Lorium, his

villa on the coast, and from Lanuvium generally.[2] We know how he

behaved to the toll-collector at Tusculum who asked his pardon; and

such was all his behavior. There was in him nothing harsh, nor

implacable, nor violent, nor, as one may say, anything carried to the

sweating point; but he examined all things severally, as if he had

abundance of time, and without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously

and consistently. And that might be applied to him which is recorded of

Socrates, that he was able both to abstain from, and to enjoy, those

things which many are too weak to abstain from, and cannot enjoy

without excess. But to be strong enough both to bear the one and to be

sober in the other is the mark of a man who has a perfect and

invincible soul, such as he showed in the illness of Maximus.

17. To the gods I am indebted for having good grandfathers, good

parents, a good sister, good teachers, good associates, good kinsmen

and friends, nearly everything good. Further, I owe it to the gods that

I was not hurried into any offence against any of them, though I had a

disposition which, if opportunity had offered, might have led me to do

something of this kind; but, through their favor, there never was such

a concurrence of circumstances as put me to the trial. Further, I am

thankful to the gods that I was not longer brought up with my

grandfather’s concubine, and that I preserved the flower of my youth,

and that I did not make proof of my virility before the proper season,

but even deferred the time; that I was subjected to a ruler and a

father who was able to take away all pride from me, and to bring me to

the knowledge that it is possible for a man to live in a palace without

wanting either guards or embroidered dresses, or torches and statues,

and such-like show; but that it is in such a man’s power to bring

himself very near to the fashion of a private person, without being for

this reason either meaner in thought, or more remiss in action, with

respect to the things which must be done for the public interest in a

manner that befits a ruler. I thank the gods for giving me such a

brother, who was able by his moral character to rouse me to vigilance

over myself, and who at the same time pleased me by his respect and

affection; that my children have not been stupid nor deformed in body;

that I did not make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and the other

studies, in which I should perhaps have been completely engaged, if I

had seen that I was making progress in them; that I made haste to place

those who brought me up in the station of honor, which they seemed to

desire, without putting them off with hope of my doing it some other

time after, because they were then still young; that I knew Apollonius,

Rusticus, Maximus; that I received clear and frequent impressions about

living according to nature, and what kind of a life that is, so that,

so far as depended on the gods, and their gifts, and help, and

inspirations, nothing hindered me from forthwith living according to

nature, though I still fall short of it through my own fault, and

through not observing the admonitions of the gods, and, I may almost

say, their direct instructions; that my body has held out so long in

such a kind of life; that I never touched either Benedicta or

Theodotus, and that, after having fallen into amatory passions, I was

cured, and though I was often out of humor with Rusticus, I never did

anything of which I had occasion to repent; that, though it was my

mother’s fate to die young, she spent the last years of her life with

me; that, whenever I wished to help any man in his need, or on any

other occasion, I was never told that I had not the means of doing it;

and that to myself the same necessity never happened, to receive

anything from another; that I have such a wife, so obedient, and so

affectionate, and so simple; that I had abundance of good masters for

my children; and that remedies have been shown to me by dreams, both

others, and against bloodspitting and giddiness …; and that, when I had

an inclination to philosophy, I did not fall into the hands of any

sophist, and that I did not waste my time on writers [of histories], or

in the resolution of syllogisms, or occupy myself about the

investigation of appearances in the heavens; for all these things

require the help of the gods and fortune.

Among the Quadi at the Granua.[3]

Thoughts of Marcus Aurelius · 第 1 / 12 章