The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Antoninus/Commentary on Book 7

The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Antoninus (1944)
by Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, translated by Arthur Spenser Loat Farquharson
Commentary on Book VII
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus2659657The Meditations of the Emperor Marcus Antoninus — Commentary on Book VII1944Arthur Spenser Loat Farquharson

BOOK VII

This Book is a collection of maxims, like vi. 51–end, partly his own, partly derived from commonplace books. They appear to be intended for everyday use, to bring the quiet and contentment which come from understanding and trust. The mind gets its colour from its frequent imagination and thoughts,[1] and the doctrines are kept alive by reviving the imaginations upon which they rest;[2] therefore to quicken these doctrines, he runs over the cognate illustrations. Chapters 32–52 are, with two exceptions, well-known citations and may, quite possibly, have intruded into the text from the Emperor's other note-books. There are signs of dislocation; thus chs. 5 and 7 belong together, so also chs. 14 and 16, chs. 23 and 25, and ch. 17 is made up of two quite separate aphorisms. The reader of the Greek text will notice that it is more frequently corrupted than in any other Book.

Ch. 1. The remedy, when you meet evil, is to recognize that it is part of the material of moral life,[3] and therefore familiar;[4] it is also short-lived.[5] This way of dealing with evil is explained by examples in ix. 42.

Ch. 2. This chapter may be compared with that entitled 'How to wrestle with imaginations', in Epictetus.[6] Normally Marcus supposes that moral recovery is possible, though with a struggle.[7] Here he contemplates the mortification of the moral self by the destruction of its guiding maxims.[8]

The relation of the imaginations to the maxims seems to be that, in given cases, we are to revive the particular thoughts which illustrate the general rule. The principle of action is only actualized in individual instances, where imagination is necessarily present, and only kept alive by being so presented. Conversely, when you are disturbed you are to return to yourself, to recover the appropriate maxim. The relation of rule to individual case is reciprocal.

Further, he is stating a fact of moral life, that thoughts and ideas on which conduct rests must be the object of repeated observation and reflection. The last sentence of the chapter is not a separate aphorism; the return to life is likened to waking from sleep.[9]

Ch. 3. Man's worth is measured by the worth of his ambitions. The life of most men is passed in a vain show, of which Marcus gives a concentrated and scornful picture.

Ch. 5. This chapter and ch. 7 are closely connected in thought, so that ch. 6 must have been displaced. He commended the Emperor Pius for welcoming the help of others.[10] The joint action is to be in the common service.

Ch. 8. We cannot but compare 'Be not anxious for the morrow'.[11] The phrase 'armed with the same reason' may perhaps mean 'bearing with you the inspired word'. If this be so, compare the remarkable expression at the close of xii. 23.

Chs. 9–10. The mention of the indwelling reason seems to kindle the writer's enthusiasm, so that he gives utterance to this splendid statement of belief in Providence and the penetration of the whole Universe by the one Reason (Logos). 'One universe out of all, . . . and one truth.' The language of St. Paul[12] resembles this: 'One body and one spirit . . . one God and Father of all, God over all and through all and in all', as (using Stoic words) he spoke just before of preserving the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.

The 'sacred bond' is interpreted by Pope:[13]

Vast chain of Being, which from God began,

and Marcus may refer to the Stoic allegorization of the chain fastened to Zeus in Homer,[14] which his contemporary Aelius Aristides[15] interprets in this sense. Characteristically the expression of unity is followed by the other dominant motive, the rapid vanishing of the temporal.[16]

Ch. 11. The identification here of Nature and Reason implies the principle that natural things endeavour to persist in their own being. The apparent self-seeking of the individual is in animals unconsciously subordinated to reason, in man consciously. Thus his interest and his duty to fellow-man and to the Whole are one. 'As (natural agents) have their law, which law directeth them in the means whereby they tend to their own perfection: so likewise another law there is, which toucheth them as they are sociable parts united into one body; a law which bindeth them each to serve unto other's good, and all to prefer the good of the whole before whatsoever their own particular.'[17]

Ch. 12. 'Upright or held upright' agrees with ch. 7 in meaning. We may suppose that Marcus has advanced from the orthodox position of iii. 5 to an increased sense of dependence upon God's help. 'He shall rise if God extraordinarily lends him His hand; he shall rise by abandoning and renouncing his own proper means, and by suffering himself to be raised and elevated by means purely celestial. It belongs to our Christian faith and not to his Stoical virtue to pretend to that divine and miraculous metamorphosis.'[18] As his Meditations progress, the author divests himself of the pride and the austerity towards others, which belonged to the straitest of his sect.

Ch. 13. Counsel, in the spirit of vii. 2, to keep alive the maxim of mutual dependence and membership in one rational system, by the imagination: 'I am a living member of the whole.' He illustrates his point by a little harmless etymology. The Greek word for 'part' contains the canine letter R; the Greek word for 'limb' suggests melody.

What he says of reasonable creatures, locally severed, being related as members of one single organic body, and of an identity of ratio not of equality, is a Stoical tenet which is familiar to us from St. Paul,[19] and which in its widest comprehension is derived from Aristotle.[20]

The beautiful thought 'an act of kindness to yourself' recurs at vii. 74.

Chs. 14–17. Although the argument of ch. 13 gains its chief force from the sympathy which binds the whole body together, Marcus here asserts the independence of the reason, just as he elsewhere asserts that the individual's perfection is his own chief end, that he is not his brother's keeper.[21] The moral self-dependence of chs. 14 and 16 is illustrated by the exquisite imagery of ch. 15.

The second part of ch. 17 follows ch. 16 naturally. The first sentence may originally have followed ch. 15; as it stands in the MS. it is incomplete, just as the text of ch. 16 is deficient and corrupt.

Ch. 17. 'Happiness is a good genius or a good familiar spirit.' We are reminded of Heraclitus' dictum: 'A good character is man's genius.' The etymological pun of the amended text cannot be reproduced in English. The second part of the chapter recalls Epictetus ii. 18. 24.

Chs. 18–21. Reflections upon change and death, the swiftness, sameness, and inexorable law of Nature and Time. Ch. 20 is again a little irrelevant, in appearance, to the context.

Ch. 22. The best statement in the Meditations of the maxim 'Love your enemy', which in Roman Stoicism, at least, redeems the notorious arrogance of the Stoic creed. Marcus justifies the maxim by these reasons:[22] he is your kinsman, one with you in origin; he errs unwittingly and therefore unwillingly; both he and you will soon be numbered with the dead; it is not in his power to harm you.

But no theoretic statement does justice to the spirit of Marcus' life and profession. 'If a man's mind be truly inflamed with charity, it doth work him suddenly into greater perfection than all the doctrine of morality can do, which is but a sophist in comparison of the other.'[23]

Chs. 23 and 25. The connexion between these two chapters is broken by the insertion of ch. 24 out of place. Nature is like an artist[24] modelling wax into successive forms, each short-lived. By continual change she renews the Universe. The individual cannot reasonably complain either of his creation or of his dissolution.

In his sermon on Death Bossuet has a passage which may have been inspired by ch. 23: 'Tout nous appelle à la mort; la nature, comme si elle était presque envieuse du bien qu'elle nous a fait, nous déclare souvent et nous fait signifier qu'elle ne peut pas nous laisser longtemps ce peu de matière qu'elle nous prete.. . . . Elle en a besoin pour d'autres formes: elle le redemande pour d'autres usages.'

Ch. 24. A parallel is drawn, as in ch. 37, between the mind's control over the expression of the face and its control over itself. The text is corrupted, but we may suppose that his point was that as an evil expression becomes unalterably set, so an engrained bad habit makes the mind hardened until even the consciousness of evil is dead. The Greek word for conscience occurs only here and at the end of vi. 30. 2 in the Meditations. The thought underlying the chapter is that as life consists in perpetual alteration, so death is loss of the power to change.

Ch. 26. Marcus resumes the subject of ch. 22. Pity is no longer qualified as it was in ii. 13, and he adds that self-scrutiny may discover in ourselves the fault we criticize in another. The word for to pardon might also mean to excuse, and its form suggests fellow feeling and understanding.[25]

Dio Cassius says of the Emperor that 'he bore the faults of others, neither inquiring closely into them, nor chastising them'.[26] Dio means no doubt injuries to himself which he might have held to be lèse-majesté. Dio also says that he felt pity for his barbarian foes.[27] One of the bas-reliefs from his triumphal arch shows him stretching out his hand to Germans and Sarmatians in pardon.

Ch. 27. The text is difficult, but the general sense clear and the maxims wise. Their object is to inculcate the Stoic tranquillity or indifference to desires the realization of which seldom, if ever, brings contentment.

Ch. 28. The retirement into the inward self which he described more fully in iv. 3, and to which he frequently alludes.[28]

Ch. 29. A summary of what is put more at large elsewhere.[29] To dwell upon one's last hour is a religious mode of speech derived from the belief in judgement to come and adopted by Stoicism for its own end. Probably Marcus means that we are to treat the present moment as though it were the last.[30]

To leave another's sin upon his shoulders implies responsibility for one's own. Guigue has said: 'Let each flee from his own vices, for the vices of another will not harm him.'[31]

Ch. 30. A repetition in other words of vi. 3 and 53, vii. 4.

Ch. 31. These are the briefest of notes upon subjects treated of elsewhere. Simplicity[32] and self-respect[33] are imprinted on the face.[34] We may contrast a favourite theme of Greek writers that you cannot detect an evil character from the face.[35] Independence is of all, except of moral good and evil.[36] 'Love mankind'[37] is coupled with the maxim 'Follow God'.[38] The latter is Pythagorean in origin. It was adopted by Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, but Philo says that it was a maxim of Apollo of Delphi, that is, it belonged to the popular religious teaching. The exact meaning fluctuates between following God as a leader, obeying God's precepts, and imitating God and making oneself like to Him. In Stoicism it includes the precept to follow Nature and to obey and reverence Nature's prescriptions. Thus, here, Marcus immediately passes to the phrase 'all things are by law'. Julian in his 'Judgement of the Caesars'[39] introduces Marcus as saying that the noblest end of mortal life is to imitate the gods.

The last few words are corrupt. Marcus seems to be playing upon the double sense of the Greek word 'by law', a double sense which recurs frequently in the great philosophers. The Atomists had said that all human experience is 'by law', viz. is relative, the reality behind is atoms and the void. Here 'by law' meant subjective. Marcus replies that it is enough to accept what they say, all is indeed 'by law', viz. governed by law, since in their own view the behaviour of atoms in the void depended upon mathematical and physical laws, while, in his own view, all things are governed by the law of Providence.

We find a similar controversial artifice at iv. 27 and x. 7. 2.

Chs. 32–52. These twenty-one chapters consist largely of citations from earlier writings, and their arrangement and occasional titles suggest an anthology or Commonplace Book. 'On Death', 'On Pain', 'On Glory', 'A fine saying of Plato' savour of a later editor. The arrangement seems to be by Triads.

Chs. 32–4. Death, Pain, Glory.

Chs. 35–7. Magnanimity (ch. 37 appears to be original).

Chs. 38–40. Destiny and Patience.

Chs. 41–3. Reason may prevail and does prevail, even in Suffering.

Chs. 44–6. Socrates on Danger, Duty, and the Values of life and death.

Chs. 47–9. Variations, apparently by the author, on Pythagorean, Platonic, and Stoic motifs.

Ch. 50. Anaxagoras' view of the Soul's destiny against Democritus and the Atomists.

Ch. 51. Death and a stormy passage are both inevitable.

Ch. 52. A Spartan saying reinterpreted.

Even if the choice of these aphorisms is Marcus', and even if some bear evidence of his own composition, yet the passages can hardly, as I have said elsewhere, have been intended for their present place. They do indeed throw light upon the mind of Marcus, for if he arranged them in their present mutual relation it is easy to appreciate our embarrassment in following the sequence of his thought elsewhere. He seems to revolve a limited group of problems, to return to them again and again, but not in the same order, nor in the same words. There is hardly a verbal repetition in the Meditations, and the thread which joins the thoughts is the continuity of an exalted and beautiful mind.

Elter has endeavoured to prove that many of the fragments of poetry used by Marcus are derived from a collection made by Chrysippus. This, however, applies only to a handful; the remainder of his quotations show a familiar acquaintance with Greek literature such as we should expect from one whose early letters exhibit a wide and serious study of Latin authors. Thus of the four selections from Plato (vii. 35, 44, 45, 46) the two famous places from the Apology are often cited (at least by writers of a later date than Marcus), but the striking extracts from the Gorgias and the Republic are quoted, I think, nowhere else.

Ch. 33. Herrick translated this saying of Epicurus:[40]

Grief if't be great, 'tis short: if long, 'tis light,

and Thomas More[41] had answered it in Latin, which may be rendered:

Long grief's not light: grave grief is never short,

thus grasping either horn of the dilemma.

Epicurus had noticed a fact of sensibility. 'Pains are intermittent; even though their cause persists, there comes a point where the capacity for suffering is for the time exhausted, and then a period of rest begins during which force is gathered for renewed suffering.'[42] Epicurus himself endured great pain with wonderful fortitude.

Ch. 34. Glory is nothing, if you but consider the kind of men who confer it. Then, as in vi. 59, he passes to the consideration that death will shortly overtake the praiser and the praised.

Chs. 35–7. Three aphorisms to kindle magnanimity in the face of death, because life is a little thing compared with eternity; in the face of ill-repute, which is the correlate of glory; and in the face of pain. If, he says, we can school our expression to deride pain, we should equally be strong enough to control our judgement despite sorrow and suffering.

The splendid saying, ch. 36, is ascribed to the Cynic philosopher Antisthenes. Elsewhere it is put into the mouth of Alexander the Great. It stands on the title-page of Eikon Basilike.

Ch. 38. Euripides continues: 'but if a man rightly handles the things he meets, he fares well'. External events, Marcus often says, stand without; if we judge them coolly and employ them rightly, we fare well. Plutarch uses this passage to illustrate his doctrine of cheerfulness.

Ch. 39. Context and source are both unknown. Gataker supposed the words to be a father's prayer for his son's happiness. Perhaps Marcus means, as in v. 7, to illustrate the right form our prayers should take.

Ch. 40. The explanation given by Marcus, in xi. 6, of these lines is that the tragedian teaches us that 'so these things must be accomplished', or, as is said here, 'thus necessity ordains'.

The discovery of papyrus fragments has shown where they stood in Euripides' Hypsipyle. Amphiaraus consoles Eurydice upon the death of her child Archemorus. Thus they belong to the literature of consolation. They were famous in antiquity, being translated by Cicero. Plutarch cites them, and so does Clement of Alexandria. The latter draws the moral: 'Lord, let this trial come; I triumph over dangers because of my love to Thee.'[43] Sir Walter Scott touches the same sad theme:

The hand of the reaper takes the ears that are hoary;
But the voice of the weeper wails manhood in glory.

Ch. 41. The sons of Merope, Amphion and Zethus, are referred to. Dr. Rendall has suggested that Marcus may be thinking of his sons, Commodus and Verus, the latter of whom died in infancy. In any case the point is that there is reason in what man does not understand.

Ch. 42. This line, which Aristophanes parodied,[44] is cited by Cicero in his letters to Atticus as a kind of proverb. Clement quotes the line, adding, in terms derived partly no doubt from a Stoic source: 'the soul deems nothing to be evil save ignorance and action not according with right Reason, always in all things giving thanks to God.'

Ch. 43. The fragment, whose origin and context are unknown, appears to be quoted to illustrate the point of v. 36 and vii. 69, that we are not to be carried out of our course by the sorrow of another.

Chs. 44–6. Socrates taught, by precept and example, the incomparable worth of a good life; in comparison length of days does not count in the balance.

Chs. 47–9. These aphorisms, which are in the manner of Marcus, are intended to promote purity of imagination, elevation of soul, resignation to life's brevity. The first is a variation upon a Pythagorean theme,[45] without, however, any reference to the music of the spheres, whose songs 'divide the night and lift our thoughts to Heaven'.[46] It is combined with a reference to the Heraclitean doctrine of continual change.[47] The contrast between the lucid order of the heavenly luminaries and the grime of terrestrial things is continued in ch. 48, in an image perhaps suggested by Plato,[48] that of rising above human life to contemplate it from above.[49] This second aphorism also closes with a reference to the concordia discors of Heraclitus. This leads to ch. 49, with its stress upon the rhythm[50] that rales a world of transient appearance. Thus we meet, as elsewhere in the Meditations, with the antithesis between all-pervasive law and mundane squalor and pettiness. This is a contradiction present in the older thinkers. Consider the contempt which Plato throws upon man's littleness in his last work, the Laws, how Aristotle depreciates his inquiries into the animal world by comparison with astronomy. So Galen, Marcus' younger contemporary, ends his massive treatise on the Bodily Functions and their Uses by contrasting the 'mire of this body of man', 'a compound of flesh and blood and phlegm and yellow and black bile',[51] with mind's majesty as exhibited in the courses of the sun and moon, the planets, and the stars. A modern cannot recover that ancient sense of the heavenly luminaries as divinities ruling the world and governing themselves according to constant and beneficent law.

Boethius, writing in a.d. 524, carries on the tradition when he thus addresses Philosophy: 'With thy rod thou didst map out for me the paths of the stars and didst frame my manners and my whole method of life to the pattern of the order of the heavens';[52]indeed the wise minister of Theodoric seems to have the Meditations in mind when he writes: 'If by turns you look down to the sordid earth and up to heaven, setting on one side all outward things, by the actual law of sight, at one moment you seem to be in the mire, at another present with the stars.'[53]

Filled with these aspirations, Marcus closes on the familiar note: 'To study man's life, forty years are as ample as a myriad.'

Chs. 50–2. This triad is suggested by what preceded. He inquires what is the destiny of the human spirit; shows that sorrow and death are inevitable and are to be borne as determined by God. Finally he contrasts the rule of force with the modesty, order, and charity of the rightly endowed Reason.

Ch. 50. This passage from the Chrysippus of Euripides was familiar to Roman readers from Lucretius' translation.[54] Vitruvius,[55] the architect of Augustus, mentions it. Philo, Plutarch, Sextus Empiricus, Galen, and Clement of Alexandria all refer to it. Euripides was believed to be giving the doctrine of Anaxagoras, when he ascribes creation to the union of Aether and Earth. Therefore, at death, the earthy returns to earth, the etherial spirit regains the spaces of the sky.

Marcus asks whether this doctrine, which the Epicurean poet, Lucretius, had by a splendid inconsequence accepted, is consistent with his materialist creed of the dissolution of the spirit into the atoms. He produces a marked effect by opposing the beautiful poetic fragment to his own remorseless version of the atomic doctrine. That this inconsistency in Lucretius was recognized by other ancient critics is clear from Lactantius,[56] who writes: 'what was of earth, that is resolved into earth: what was of heavenly spirit, that ever persists and lives, since the divine spirit is everlasting. Moreover Lucretius, forgetting his assertions and the dogma he was defending, has written these verses. . . . It was not for him, who maintained that spirits perish with their bodies, to say this; but he was vanquished by the Truth; reason surprised him and stole the verity from him.'

Ch. 51. The first two lines are from Euripides' extant play, The Suppliants. Iphis speaks them, beginning: 'I hate those who desire to prolong their life.' Plutarch has cited the lines, in connexion with Heraclitus' doctrine of the ever-flowing river of generation, in a tract upon Consolation. The context and source of the other two lines is unknown. The point is that adversity proceeds from God and that, like brave men, we must bear what befalls us. This is the title of many similar fragments in Stobaeus.[57]

Ch. 52. A Spartan, worsted at Olympia, was told: 'Your adversary proved the better man.' 'No,' he replied, 'not better; better able to throw his man.' The point is the superiority of moral courage.[58]

Chs. 53–8. After the purple threads of poetry the Book returns to reflections upon right conduct in everyday life, maxims of detail which are to keep alive the moral consciousness.[59]

Ch. 53. Action according to the general law brings with it advantage to the individual and deliverance from all harm.[60]

Ch. 54. The present is our concern, to be content with our dispensation, to behave justly, to govern our imaginations.[61]

Ch. 55. We are to keep Nature's straight path, independently of praise or blame;[62] thus we fulfil the dictates of a rational self, which is supreme in the scale of Nature.[63]In man's constitution there are three principles, the social bond, the victory over sense affections and bodily impulses,[64] judgement which is deliberate and undeceived.[65]

Chs. 56–7. He here appears to be giving his own turn to the worldly maxim, familiar from Horace, that happiness lies in being content with saying each day 'I have lived', and counting a new day as gain. He says, in short, each day is sufficient that is lived by Nature's law. If you so live you will embrace your destiny, for nothing is more in agreement with yourself.

Ch. 58. If you are disposed to rebel against circumstance, picture others who so rebelled and are dead; turn obstacles into material[66] for goodness.

Ch. 59. The idea of a fountain of living water within is developed in viii. 51.

Ch. 60. The outer self should be controlled like the inward; a thought akin to those in vii. 24 and 37.

Ch. 61. The art of living is contrasted, in another way, with acting and dancing, xi. 2, and compared with boxing and sword play, xii. 9.

Chs. 62–3. A subject to which Marcus often recurs, that evil is due to ignorance, and therefore must be treated leniently;[67] here he adds the reflection that praise or blame by the ignorant can well be ignored.[68]

Ch. 64. Pain is not a moral evil and need not, as Epicurus himself says,[69] affect the governing mind. When you complain of disagreeables, remember that they are a kind of pain, so that you are neglecting the rule not to complain of pain.

Chs. 65–6. The inhuman persons of ch. 65 appear to be the ascetic and cynical teachers who shamed human society. This introduces the remarkable digression upon Telauges and Socrates. Aeschines, the author of Telauges, was a pupil of Socrates and wrote dialogues of which mere scraps survive. In the Telauges, Socrates appears to have been introduced debating with a Pythagorean ascetic, dressed in sordid clothes. Aeschines probably represented Socrates as superior to Telauges, and, to prove this, brought in some of the famous incidents of his life. Marcus says that Telauges was not inferior on these grounds, nor because of his failure in dialectical skill, but simply from moral inferiority.

When the Cynics had become prominent, it would be natural to discuss this kind of question, and we know from Lucian that they were to the front in the second century a.d. There is a long discussion by Epictetus in which he shows that nicety of dress and person behoves the professed philosopher.[70] The point then of this chapter is that Marcus wishes to show Socrates to have been the man that Plato represents him, for instance in the Protagoras and the Symposium, and Xenophon in the Memorabilia and Oeconomicus.[71]

The passage illustrates Marcus' command of his literary sources and his use of some which are a little off the beaten track. If we had these sources we should be able to understand much in him that is now obscure to us.

Ch. 67. If we could read the Telauges we should probably see the connexion of this chapter with 66. Certainly it appears to follow from the consideration of what the strength of Socrates really consisted in. The two main points are eminently Socratic: the reasoning self, though bound to the body, can rise superior to mere bodily affections; moreover, moral superiority is irrespective of scientific attainment and dialectical skill.

The phrase 'divine' man was a Spartan expression for an eminent statesman. Marcus says that you can exhibit all the simple virtues though you are not a man of great intellectual skill; you can define your sphere and fill it—in fact be a 'divine' man—and yet nobody may recognize it.

Ch. 68. Continuing the topic of independence, which Socrates illustrated in his life and death, Marcus now uses what appears to be exaggerated language.[72] How could a man remain thus calm when torn by savage beasts, and, even more, how could the Emperor, if he indeed does so, contemplate such a trial of his faith?

Had he been reading some passage like this of Epictetus:[73] 'the true Cynic must have such endurance as to appear to the vulgar to be as insensible as a stone; his poor body he freely gives to any one who wills to treat as he will . . . no robber, no tyrant prevails over his will, but over his body, yes!'?

For a moment he is led into the mental attitude of Luther's

What if they take our life: goods, honour, children, wife,
Yet is their profit small: these things shall perish all.

or of Sir Walter Raleigh's[74]

Stab at thee, he that will,
No stab the soul can kill.

Chs. 69–74. In contrast with ch. 68, these brief sentences resume the normal tone of peace and serenity, until ch. 75 closes upon the note of confidence in the ordering of the Whole by the master Spirit of the Universe, upon which the comfort and quiet of the individual depend.

Footnotes

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  1. v. 16.
  2. vii. 2.
  3. vi. 42; ix. 42. 1.
  4. iv. 44; v. 10.
  5. vii. 64.
  6. Epict. ii. 18
  7. x. 8. 3; xi. 8.
  8. vii. 24.
  9. vi. 31.
  10. i. 16. 6.
  11. St. Matt. 6. 34.
  12. Eph. 4. 4.
  13. Essay on Man, 1. 237.
  14. Il. viii. 19.
  15. Orat. to Zeus, 43. 15 K.
  16. ii. 12 (enlarged); v. 13.
  17. Hooker, Eccl. Polity, 1. 3. 5.
  18. Montaigne, Essais, 2. 12 (Raimond de Sebonde).
  19. St. Paul, 1 Cor. 12. 26.
  20. Cf. d'Arcy Thompson's note, Arist. History of Animals, i. 1, Oxf. Tr.
  21. viii. 56.
  22. (a) ii. 1; iii. 11; (b) ii. 1, 13; iii. 11; vii. 26; (c) xi. 18. 3; (d) ii. 1; xi. 18. 3.
  23. Bacon, Adv. of Learning, ii. 22. 15.
  24. vi. 1 and 45.
  25. xi. 16.
  26. Dio Cass. lxxi. 34. 4.
  27. Id. lxxi. 10. 4.
  28. vi. 1 1; viii. 48; ix. 7 and 42.
  29. v. 2, viii. 29, ix. 7; ii. 2, vii. 3, ix. 7; iii. 10, viii. 32; vi. 8, viii. 49; iv. 21. 2, v. 13, viii. ii, ix. 25. 37, xii. 10, 18, 29.
  30. ii. 5; iii. 12.
  31. Guigue, l.c. 230, cf. M. Ant. ix. 20 and 38; xii. 16.
  32. iv. 26
  33. i. 2; ii. 6; iii. 7.
  34. iii. 5; vii. 60; x. 12; xi. 15.
  35. e.g. Eur. Med. 519.
  36. ii. 11. 4.
  37. iii. 9, vii. 22.
  38. iii. 9 and i6; x. 11; xii. 27 and 31.
  39. Convivium, 333 c.
  40. Cf. vii. 64.
  41. More, Lucubrationes &c., Basle, 1563.
  42. Richet, Recherches sur la Sensibilité, p. 303, cited by Höffding, Psychology, p. 277 of English edition.
  43. Cf. M. Ant. x. 14.
  44. Acharnians, 661.
  45. Cf. xi. 27.
  46. Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 688.
  47. M. Ant. iv. 46.
  48. Tht. 175 d; Soph. 216 c.
  49. Cf. xii. 24.
  50. M. Ant. vi. 11 and 39; vii. 57.
  51. Cf. M. Ant. ii. 2.
  52. Consolatio Phil. i, Prose, 4.
  53. Id. iv, Prose, 4.
  54. Lucr. ii. 991–1001.
  55. De Architectura, viii, praef. 1.
  56. Divin. Inst. vii. 12.
  57. Stob. Flor. iv. 44 (Heinse), where the fragment vii. 40 is quoted, p. 960.
  58. Cf. M. Ant. xi. 18. 5.
  59. vii. 2.
  60. ii. 11; v 34; vii. 74; x. 33; xi. 4.
  61. iii. 4. 1; iv. 22; x. 6; vi. 2. 32; ix. 6; x. 1. 6.
  62. iii. 4. 3; iv. 18; v. 3; vii. 34; x. 11.
  63. v. 16, 30.
  64. iii. 6. 2; v. 26; vii. 66.
  65. iii. 9; xi. 11.
  66. iv. 49; vii. 68; x. 33.
  67. viii. 14; x. 30; xi. 18. 2.
  68. ii. 12; iii. 5.
  69. cf. vii. 33.
  70. Epict. iii. 22. 86 sq.
  71. Cf. M. Ant. i. 16. 9; iii. 6; iv. 30; xi. 28.
  72. Cf. iv. 39; viii. 51.
  73. Epict. iii. 22. 100–5.
  74. From Sir Walter Raleigh's The Lie.