rational being, is to be governed by the laws of the universe, the oldest and most venerable of all communities.

17. The whole period of human life is a mere point; our being frail and tranfient, our perception obfcure, the whole frame of our body tending to putrefaction. The foul itself is the fport of paffions. The freaks of fortune not fubject to calculation or conjecture, fame is undistinguishing and capricious: In a word, every thing relating to our body is fleeting, and glides away like a ftream, and the reveries of the foul are a vapour and a dream. Indeed, life itself is a continual warfare, and a pilgrimage in a strange country; and pofthumous fame is near akin to oblivion.

What then can conduct us fafely on this journey of life? Nothing but true wisdom or philofophy. Now this confifts in cultivating and preferving from injury and difgrace that good genius* within us, our foul, undisturbed and fuperior to pleasure and

* Thus they often speak of the rational foul.

pain, not acting at random* or doing any thing in vain, or with falfhood and diffimulation; to do or leave undone whatever we please, without being influenced by the will or the opinion of other men.

Moreover, to acquiefce in whatever comes to pass, either by accident or the decrees of fate, as proceeding from the fame cause whence we ourselves are derived.

On the whole, philofophy will teach us to wait for death with calmnefs and equanimity, as being no more than the diffolution of thofe elements of which every animal is compofed. Now if no damage accrues to those feveral elements, in their continual changes or migrations from one body to another, why should any one be apprehenfive of any injury from the change of the whole? It is agreeable to the course of nature; but what is fuch cannot be evil.

[Written at Carnuntum, a city in Pannonia, now part of Hungary.]

*The repetition of this and many other sentiments in this work, tho' Cafaubon excuses it as inculcating what cannot be too often repeated, yet it certainly proves, that it was not intended for the publick in this incorrect state.

BOOK III.

§. 1.

IT

T is of importance to reflect, not only that our life is continually wearing away, and that every day a ftill smaller portion of it remains; but likewise that, although it should be prolonged to a more distant period, it is yet uncertain, whether the same vigour of understanding will be afforded us, to comprehend and transact the common affairs of life, or to contemplate accurately the nature of things human and divine. For fuppofe a man should be reduced to a state of dotage and mental imbecillity, he may ftill discharge the animal functions; he may breathe, be nourished, have the power of perception, retain his appetite and other faculties of that kind; but to make a proper use of his higher powersa

G 3

powers, to adjust the measures of duty, to reduce his ideas to any regular order, and to determine when it is time for him to leave the world, and whatever of this kind requires the use of a cultivated mind; all these things must then be extinguished for ever.

We ought therefore to be expeditious in our affairs, not only because we approach daily nearer to our end, but also because our intellects and our comprehension of things may ceafe before the termination of our lives.

2. This alfo is worthy of obfervation, that there are many accidental circumftances attending the productions of nature, which are not without their beauty and attraction.†

*The better fort of Stoics allowed of a voluntary death only on very urgent and important occafions : "For our country, our friends, intolerable pain, incurable difeafes, &c." They often, however, mistook the cafe, and mifapplied their doctrine. See the Preface.

This is a very extraordinary section. M. Aurelius seems to have viewed things in a peculiar light, and with the eyes of a painter, (which art he had learned of Diognetus) and fees beauties in objects that efcape the notice of common obfervers.

Even in the works of art. (to inftance in a familiar operation) there are often, contrary to the intention of the baker, little cracks or irregularities in the furface of a loaf of bread; which have fomething agreeable in them, and which, in a peculiar manner, excite the appetite. Thus figs, when they are throughly ripe, open and discover their richness. Olives also, when they are ready to fall of themselves and are almost decayed, have a particularly beautiful appearance.

In like manner the bending down of full ears of corn, the fierce brows of the lion, the foam dropping from the jaws of a wild boar, and many other things of this kind, which are far from having any beauty in themselves; yet, if we consider them as concomitants of the productions of nature, are interesting and ornamental.

He then, who has a taste for these speculations, and a capacity to penetrate more deeply into the works of nature, will difcover that there is hardly any thing, which, confidered in that light, does not form a beautiful harmony and connection with the

whole,