Contract thy whole life to the measure and proportion of one single action. And if in every particular action thou dost perform what is fitting to the utmost of thy power, let it suffice thee.
And who can hinder thee, but that thou mayest perform what is fitting? But there may be some outward let and impediment.
Not any, that can hinder thee, but that whatsoever thou dost, thou may do it, justly, temperately, and with the praise of God.
Yea, but there may be somewhat, whereby some operation or other of thine may be hindered.
And then, with that very thing that doth hinder, thou mayest be well pleased, and so by this gentle and equanimous conversion of thy mind unto that which may be, instead of that which at first thou didst intend, in the room of that former action there succeedeth another, which agrees as well with this contraction of thy life, that we now speak of.
Category: Marcus Aurelius Meditations
“Meditations” Book VIII: Passage XLV
Nothing can happen unto thee, which is not incidental unto thee, as thou art a man.
As nothing can happen either to an ox, a vine, or to a stone, which is not incidental unto them; unto every one in his own kind.
If therefore nothing can happen unto anything, which is not both usual and natural; why art thou displeased?
Sure the common nature of all would not bring anything upon any, that were intolerable.
If therefore it be a thing external that causes thy grief, know, that it is not that properly that doth cause it, but thine own conceit and opinion concerning the thing: which thou mayest rid thyself of, when thou wilt.
But if it be somewhat that is amiss in thine own disposition, that doth grieve thee, mayest thou not rectify thy moral tenets and opinions.
But if it grieve thee, that thou doest not perform that which seemeth unto thee right and just, why doest not thou choose rather to perform it than to grieve?
But somewhat that is stronger than thyself doth hinder thee. Let it not grieve thee then, if it be not thy fault that the thing is not performed.
“Yea but it is a thing of that nature, as that thy life is not worth the while, except it may be performed.”
If it be so, upon condition that thou be kindly and lovingly disposed towards all men, thou mayest be gone.
For even then, as much as at any time, art though in a very good estate of performance, when thou doest die in charity with those, that are an obstacle unto thy performance.
“Meditations” Book XII: Passage XXIII
There is but one light of the sun, though it be intercepted by walls and mountains, and other thousand objects.
There is but one common substance of the whole world, though it be concluded and restrained into several different bodies, in numbers infinite.
There is but one common soul, though divided into innumerable particular essences and natures.
So is there but one common intellectual soul, though it seem to be divided.
And as for all other parts of those generals which we have mentioned, as either sensitive souls or subjects, these of themselves (as naturally irrational) have no common mutual reference one unto another, though many of them contain a mind, or reasonable faculty in them, whereby they are ruled and governed.
But of every reasonable mind, this the particular nature, that it hath reference to whatsoever is of her own kind, and desireth to be united: neither can this common affection, or mutual unity and correspondency, be here intercepted or divided, or confined to particulars as those other common things are.
“Meditations” Book IV: Passage III
They seek for themselves private retiring places, as country villages, the sea-shore, mountains; yea thou thyself art wont to long much after such places. But all this thou must know proceeds from simplicity in the highest degree. At what time soever thou wilt, it is in thy power to retire into thyself, and to be at rest, and free from all businesses.
A man cannot any whither retire better than to his own soul; he especially who is beforehand provided of such things within, which whensoever he doth withdraw himself to look in, may presently afford unto him perfect ease and tranquility.
By tranquility I understand a decent orderly disposition and carriage, free from all confusion and tumultuousness. Afford then thyself this retiring continually, and thereby refresh and renew thyself.
Let these precepts be brief and fundamental, which as soon as thou dost call them to mind, may suffice thee to purge thy soul thoroughly, and to send thee away well pleased with those things whatsoever they be, which now again after this short withdrawing of thy soul into herself thou dost return unto.
For what is it that thou art offended at? Can it be at the wickedness of men, when thou dost call to mind this conclusion, that all reasonable creatures are made one for another? And that it is part of justice to bear with them? And that it is against their wills that they offend? And how many already, who once likewise prosecuted their enmities, suspected, hated, and fiercely contended, are now long ago stretched out, and reduced unto ashes? It is time for thee to make an end.
As for those things which among the common chances of the world happen unto thee as thy particular lot and portion, canst thou be displeased with any of them, when thou dost call that our ordinary dilemma to mind, either a providence, or Democritus his atoms; and with it, whatsoever we brought to prove that the whole world is as it were one city?
And as for thy body, what canst thou fear, if thou dost consider that thy mind and understanding, when once it hath recollected itself, and knows its own power, hath in this life and breath (whether it run smoothly and gently, or whether harshly and rudely), no interest at all, but is altogether indifferent: and whatsoever else thou hast heard and assented unto concerning either pain or pleasure?
But the care of thine honour and reputation will perchance distract thee? How can that be, if thou dost look back, and consider both how quickly all things that are, are forgotten, and what an immense chaos of eternity was before, and will follow after all things: and the vanity of praise, and the inconstancy and variableness of human judgments and opinions, and the narrowness of the place, wherein it is limited and circumscribed?
For the whole earth is but as one point; and of it, this inhabited part of it, is but a very little part; and of this part, how many in number, and what manner of men are they, that will commend thee?
What remains then, but that thou often put in practice this kind of retiring of thyself, to this little part of thyself; and above all things, keep thyself from distraction, and intend not anything vehemently, but be free and consider all things, as a man whose proper object is Virtue, as a man whose true nature is to be kind and sociable, as a citizen, as a mortal creature.
Among other things, which to consider, and look into thou must use to withdraw thyself, let those two be among the most obvious and at hand.
One, that the things or objects themselves reach not unto the soul, but stand without still and quiet, and that it is from the opinion only which is within, that all the tumult and all the trouble doth proceed.
The next, that all these things, which now thou seest, shall within a very little while be changed, and be no more: and ever call to mind, how many changes and alterations in the world thou thyself hast already been an eyewitness of in thy time. This world is mere change, and this life, opinion.
“Meditations” Book III: Passage IV
Those things that are his own, and in his own power, he himself takes order, for that they be good: and as for those that happen unto him, he believes them to be so. For that lot and portion which is assigned to every one, as it is unavoidable and necessary, so it is always profitable.
He remembers besides that whatsoever partakes of reason, is akin unto him, and that to care for all men generally, is agreeing to the nature of a man: but as for honour and praise, that they ought not generally to be admitted and accepted from all, but from such only who live according to nature.
As for them that do not, what manner of men they be at home, or abroad; day or night, how conditioned themselves with what manner of conditions, OR WITH MEN OF WHAT CONDITIONS THEY MOIL AND PASS AWAY THE TIME TOGETHER, HE KNOWETH, AND REMEMBERS RIGHT WELL, he therefore regards not such praise and approbation, as proceeding from them, who cannot like and approve themselves.