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God hath made all things in the world, nay, the world itself, free from hindrance and perfect, and its parts for the use of the whole. No other creature is capable of comprehending His administration thereof; but the reasonable being Man possesses faculties for the consideration of all these things—not only that he is himself a part, but what part he is, and how it is meet that the parts should give place to the whole. Nor is this all. Being naturally constituted noble, magnanimous, and free, he sees that the things which surround him are of two kinds. Some are free from hindrance and in the power of the will. Other are subject to hindrance, and depend on the will of other men. If then he place his own good, his own best interest, only in that which is free from hindrance and in his power, he will be free, tranquil, happy, unharmed, noble-hearted, and pious; giving thanks to all things unto God, finding fault with nothing that comes to pass, laying no charge against anything. Whereas if he place his good in outward things, depending not on the will, he must perforce be subject to hindrance and restraint, the slave of those that have power over the things he desires and fears; he must perforce be impious, as deeming himself injured at the hands of God; he must be unjust, as ever prone to claim more than his due; he must perforce be of a mean and abject spirit.

God made everything in the world, even the world itself, free from obstacles and perfect. He made its parts to serve the whole. No other creature can understand how He manages this. But humans, as rational beings, have the ability to think about all these things. We can recognize not only that we are part of the whole, but what part we are and how the parts should serve the whole. That's not all. By nature, we are noble, generous, and free. We can see that the things around us fall into two categories. Some are free from obstacles and within our control. Others face obstacles and depend on other people's choices. If we place our good, our best interest, only in what is free from obstacles and in our power, we will be free, calm, happy, unharmed, noble-hearted, and reverent. We will give thanks for all things to God, finding fault with nothing that happens, blaming nothing. But if we place our good in external things that don't depend on our will, we must be subject to obstacles and restraint. We become slaves to those who have power over the things we desire and fear. We must be irreverent, thinking ourselves injured by God. We must be unjust, always trying to claim more than we deserve. We must be mean-spirited and miserable.

Whom then shall I fear? the lords of the Bedchamber, lest they should shut me out? If they find me desirous of entering in, let them shut me out, if they will.

Who should I fear? The palace officials, in case they lock me out? If they find me wanting to get in, let them lock me out if they want.

“Then why comest thou to the door?”

"So why did you come to the door?"

Because I think it meet and right, so long as the Play lasts, to take part therein.

Because I think it's proper and right to play my part in the performance as long as it continues.

“In what sense art thou then shut out?”

"In what way are you shut out then?"

Because, unless I am admitted, it is not my will to enter: on the contrary, my will is simply that which comes to pass. For I esteem what God wills better than what I will. To Him will I cleave as His minister and attendant; having the same movements, the same desires, in a word the same Will as He. There is no such thing as being shut out for me, but only for them that would force their way in.

I don't want to force my way in unless I'm truly welcome. My will is simply to accept whatever happens. I believe that what God wants is better than what I want. I will stay close to Him as His servant and follower. I will have the same movements, the same desires, the same Will as He does. For me, there's no such thing as being shut out. That only happens to people who try to force their way in.

But what says Socrates?—“One man finds pleasure in improving his land, another his horses. My pleasure lies in seeing that I myself grow better day by day.”

But what does Socrates say? "One man enjoys improving his land, another his horses. My pleasure comes from seeing myself grow better day by day."

The dress is suited to the craft; the craftsman takes his name from the craft, not from the dress. For this reason Euphrates was right in saying, “I long endeavoured to conceal my following the philosophic life; and this profited me much. In the first place, I knew that what I did aright, I did not for the sake of lookers-on, but for my own. I ate aright—unto myself; I kept the even tenor of my walk, my glance composed and serene—all unto myself and unto God. Then as I fought alone, I was alone in peril. If I did anything amiss or shameful, the cause of Philosophy was not in me endangered; nor did I wrong the multitude by transgressing as a professed philosopher. Wherefore those that knew not my purpose marvelled how it came about, that whilst all my life and conversation was passed with philosophers without exception, I was yet none myself. And what harm that the philosopher should be known by his acts, instead of mere outward signs and symbols?”

Your clothes should fit your work. A craftsman gets his name from his craft, not from what he wears. That's why Euphrates was right when he said, "For a long time, I tried to hide that I was living as a philosopher. This helped me greatly. First, I knew that when I did something right, I wasn't doing it to impress others. I was doing it for myself. I ate properly, for my own sake. I walked steadily and kept my expression calm and peaceful, all for myself and for God. Since I fought this battle alone, I alone faced the danger. If I did something wrong or shameful, I didn't put Philosophy itself at risk. I didn't harm others by failing as someone who claimed to be a philosopher. People who didn't know my purpose were amazed. They wondered how I could spend all my time with philosophers yet not be one myself. What's wrong with a philosopher being known by his actions instead of by outward signs and symbols?"

First study to conceal what thou art; seek wisdom a little while unto thyself. Thus grows the fruit; first, the seed must be buried in the earth for a little space; there it must be hid and slowly grow, that it may reach maturity. But if it produce the ear before the jointed stalk, it is imperfect—a thing from the garden of Adonis. Such a sorry growth art thou; thou hast blossomed too soon: the winter cold will wither thee away!

First, learn to hide what you are. Seek wisdom quietly for yourself for a little while. This is how fruit grows. The seed must first be buried in the earth for a time. It must stay hidden there and grow slowly so it can reach full maturity. But if it produces the ear before the stalk is fully formed, it's incomplete—like a plant from the garden of Adonis. You are just such a pitiful growth. You have blossomed too soon. The winter cold will wither you away!

First of all, condemn the life thou art now leading: but when thou hast condemned it, do not despair of thyself—be not like them of mean spirit, who once they have yielded, abandon themselves entirely and as it were allow the torrent to sweep them away. No; learn what the wrestling masters do. Has the boy fallen? “Rise,” they say, “wrestle again, till thy strength come to thee.” Even thus should it be with thee. For know that there is nothing more tractable than the human soul. It needs but to will, and the thing is done; the soul is set upon the right path: as on the contrary it needs but to nod over the task, and all is lost. For ruin and recovery alike are from within.

First of all, condemn the life you are now leading. But once you have condemned it, do not despair of yourself. Do not be like those of mean spirit who, once they have given in, abandon themselves entirely and, as it were, let the torrent sweep them away. No, learn what the wrestling masters do. Has the boy fallen? “Get up,” they say, “wrestle again, until your strength comes to you.” That is how it should be with you. For know that nothing is more easily guided than the human soul. It only has to will, and the thing is done. The soul is set on the right path. On the other hand, it only has to doze over the task, and all is lost. For ruin and recovery alike come from within.

It is the critical moment that shows the man. So when the crisis is upon you, remember that God, like a trainer of wrestlers, has matched you with a rough and stalwart antagonist.—“To what end?” you ask. That you may prove the victor at the Great Games. Yet without toil and sweat this may not be!

It's the critical moment that shows who you really are. So when crisis strikes, remember that God, like a wrestling coach, has matched you with a tough and powerful opponent. "Why?" you ask. So you can win at the Great Games. But you can't do it without hard work and sweat!

If thou wouldst make progress, be content to seem foolish and void of understanding with respect to outward things. Care not to be thought to know anything. If any should make account of thee, distrust thyself.

If you want to make progress, be content to appear foolish and ignorant about worldly matters. Don't worry about being thought knowledgeable. If anyone thinks highly of you, distrust yourself.

Remember that in life thou shouldst order thy conduct as at a banquet. Has any dish that is being served reached thee? Stretch forth thy hand and help thyself modestly. Doth it pass thee by? Seek not to detain it. Has it not yet come? Send not forth thy desire to meet it, but wait until it reaches thee. Deal thus with children, thus with wife; thus with office, thus with wealth—and one day thou wilt be meet to share the Banquets of the Gods. But if thou dost not so much as touch that which is placed before thee, but despisest it, then shalt thou not only share the Banquets of the Gods, but their Empire also.

Remember that you should behave in life as you would at a banquet. Has a dish being served reached you? Stretch out your hand and take some modestly. Does it pass you by? Don't try to stop it. Has it not arrived yet? Don't send your desire out to meet it. Wait until it reaches you. Deal this way with children, this way with your spouse. Deal this way with career, this way with wealth. One day you will be worthy to share the Banquets of the Gods. But if you don't even touch what is placed before you, if you reject it, then you will not only share the Banquets of the Gods but their Empire as well.

Remember that thou art an actor in a play, and of such sort as the Author chooses, whether long or short. If it be his good pleasure to assign thee the part of a beggar, a ruler, or a simple citizen, thine it is to play it fitly. For thy business is to act the part assigned thee, well: to choose it, is another’s.

Remember that you are an actor in a play. The Author chooses what kind of play it is, whether long or short. If he decides to assign you the part of a beggar, a ruler, or an ordinary citizen, your job is to play it well. Your business is to act the part assigned to you well. Choosing the part belongs to someone else.

Keep death and exile daily before thine eyes, with all else that men deem terrible, but more especially Death. Then wilt thou never think a mean though, nor covet anything beyond measure.

Keep death and exile in front of you every day, along with everything else that people find terrifying. But focus especially on death. When you do this, you'll never have petty thoughts or crave things excessively.

As a mark is not set up in order to be missed, so neither is such a thing as natural evil produced in the World.

Just as a target isn't set up so people can miss it, natural evil isn't created in the world either.

Piety toward the Gods, to be sure, consists chiefly in thinking rightly concerning them—that they are, and that they govern the Universe with goodness and justice; and that thou thyself art appointed to obey them, and to submit under all circumstances that arise; acquiescing cheerfully in whatever may happen, sure it is brought to pass and accomplished by the most Perfect Understanding. Thus thou wilt never find fault with the Gods, nor charge them with neglecting thee.

True reverence for the Gods comes down to thinking correctly about them. They are real, and they govern the Universe with goodness and justice. You are meant to obey them and accept whatever circumstances arise. Welcome cheerfully whatever happens, knowing it comes from the most Perfect Understanding. This way, you'll never blame the Gods or accuse them of neglecting you.

Lose no time in setting before you a certain stamp of character and behaviour both when by yourself and in company with others. Let silence be your general rule; or say only what is necessary and in few words. We shall, however, when occasion demands, enter into discourse sparingly. avoiding common topics as gladiators, horse-races, athletes; and the perpetual talk about food and drink. Above all avoid speaking of persons, either in way of praise or blame, or comparison.

Don't waste time. Decide right now what kind of character and behavior you want to have, both when you're alone and when you're with others. Make silence your default. When you do speak, say only what's necessary and keep it brief. Of course, when the situation calls for it, we can join conversations, but do so sparingly. Stay away from common topics like gladiators, horse races, athletes, and endless talk about food and drink. Most importantly, avoid talking about people, whether you're praising them, criticizing them, or comparing them to others.

If you can, win over the conversation of your company to what it should be by your own. But if you find yourself cut off without escape among strangers and aliens, be silent.

If you can, guide your group's conversation toward what's worthwhile through your own example. But if you're trapped without an exit among strangers who don't share your values, stay quiet.

Laughter should not be much, nor frequent, nor unrestrained.

Don't laugh too much, too often, or too wildly.

Refuse altogether to take an oath if you can, if not, as far as may be.

If you can, don't take an oath at all. If you must, keep it to the minimum necessary.

Banquets of the unlearned and of them that are without, avoid. But if you have occasion to take part in them, let not your attention be relaxed for a moment, lest you slip after all into evil ways. For you may rest assured that be a man ever so pure himself, he cannot escape defilement if his associates are impure.

Avoid parties thrown by ignorant people or those who lack wisdom. But if you must attend, stay alert at all times. Don't let your guard down, or you might fall into bad habits. Remember this: no matter how good a person you are, you can't avoid being corrupted if you spend time with corrupt people.

Take what relates to the body as far as the bare use warrants—as meat, drink, raiment, house and servants. But all that makes for show and luxury reject.

Use what relates to the body only as much as you actually need. This means food, drink, clothing, shelter, and help from others. Reject everything that's just for show or luxury.

If you are told that such an one speaks ill of you, make no defence against what was said, but answer, He surely knew not my other faults, else he would not have mentioned these only!

If someone tells you that a person is speaking badly about you, don't defend yourself against what was said. Instead, answer, "He must not know about my other faults, or he wouldn't have mentioned only these!"

When you visit any of those in power, bethink yourself that you will not find him in: that you may not be admitted: that the door may be shut in your face: that he may not concern himself about you. If with all this, it is your duty to go, bear what happens, and never say to yourself, It was not worth the trouble! For that would smack of the foolish and unlearned who suffer outward things to touch them.

When you visit someone in power, prepare yourself mentally. He might not be available. You might not get in. The door could be shut in your face. He might not care about you at all. If it's still your duty to go despite all this, then go and accept whatever happens. Never tell yourself afterward, "It wasn't worth the trouble!" That's the attitude of foolish and ignorant people who let external circumstances upset them.

In company avoid frequent and undue talk about your own actions and dangers. However pleasant it may be to you to enlarge upon the risks you have run, others may not find such pleasure in listening to your adventures. Avoid provoking laughter also: it is a habit from which one easily slides into the ways of the foolish, and apt to diminish the respect which your neighbors feel for you. To border on coarse talk is also dangerous. On such occasions, if a convenient opportunity offer, rebuke the speaker. If not, at least by relapsing into silence, colouring, and looking annoyed, show that you are displeased with the subject.

In company, avoid talking often and excessively about your own actions and dangers. However pleasant it may be for you to dwell on the risks you have run, others may not find the same pleasure in hearing about your adventures. Avoid provoking laughter too. It is a habit from which one easily slides into the ways of fools, and it tends to lessen the respect your neighbors feel for you. To come close to coarse talk is also dangerous. On such occasions, if a suitable opportunity arises, rebuke the speaker. If not, at least show that you are displeased with the subject by falling silent, blushing, and looking annoyed.

When you have decided that a thing ought to be done, and are doing it, never shun being seen doing it, even though the multitude should be likely to judge the matter amiss. For if you are not acting rightly, shun the act itself; if rightly, however, why fear misplaced censure?

When you've decided something should be done and you're doing it, don't avoid being seen doing it, even if most people will likely judge you wrongly. If you're not acting rightly, avoid the action itself. But if you are acting rightly, why fear criticism that's off the mark?

It stamps a man of mean capacity to spend much time on the things of the body, as to be long over bodily exercises, long over eating, long over drinking, long over other bodily functions. Rather should these things take the second place, while all your care is directed to the understanding.

It shows a person of limited intelligence to spend too much time on physical matters. Don't spend hours exercising, eating, drinking, or dealing with other bodily needs. These things should come second. Instead, direct all your attention to developing your mind.

Everything has two handles, one by which it may be borne, the other by which it may not. If your brother sin against you lay not hold of it by the handle of injustice, for by that it may not be borne: but rather by this, that he is your brother, the comrade of your youth; and thus you will lay hold on it so that it may be borne.

Every situation has two ways to handle it. One way works, the other doesn't. If your brother wrongs you, don't focus on the injustice. That approach won't help you bear it. Instead, remember that he is your brother, someone you grew up with. This way of looking at it makes the situation bearable.

Never call yourself a Philosopher nor talk much among the unlearned about Principles, but do that which follows from them. Thus at a banquet, do not discuss how people ought to eat; but eat as you ought. Remember that Socrates thus entirely avoided ostentation. Men would come to him desiring to be recommended to philosophers, and he would conduct them thither himself—so well did he bear being overlooked. Accordingly if any talk concerning principles should arise among the unlearned, be you for the most part silent. For you run great risk of spewing up what you have ill digested. And when a man tells you that you know nothing and you are not nettled at it, then you may be sure that you have begun the work.

Don't call yourself a Philosopher. Don't talk much about principles around people who haven't studied them. Instead, just do what follows from those principles. At a dinner party, don't lecture people about how they should eat. Just eat properly yourself. Remember that Socrates completely avoided showing off. People came to him wanting introductions to philosophers, and he would take them there himself. He handled being overlooked remarkably well. So if any discussion about principles comes up among people unfamiliar with them, stay mostly quiet. You risk vomiting up what you haven't properly digested. When someone tells you that you know nothing and it doesn't bother you, then you can be sure you've begun the real work.

When you have brought yourself to supply the needs of the body at small cost, do not pique yourself on that, nor if you drink only water, keep saying on each occasion, I drink water! And if you ever want to practise endurance and toil, do so unto yourself and not unto others—do not embrace statues!

When you've learned to meet your body's needs cheaply, don't brag about it. If you only drink water, don't announce I drink water! at every opportunity. And if you ever want to practice endurance and hard work, do it for yourself, not to impress others. Don't hug statues!

When a man prides himself on being able to understand and interpret the writings of Chrysippus, say to yourself:—

When someone prides himself on being able to understand and interpret the writings of Chrysippus, say to yourself:

If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this fellow would have had nothing to be proud of. But what is it that I desire? To understand Nature, and to follow her! Accordingly I ask who is the Interpreter. On hearing that it is Chrysippus, I go to him. But it seems I do not understand what he wrote. So I seek one to interpret that. So far there is nothing to pride myself on. But when I have found my interpreter, what remains is to put in practice his instructions. This itself is the only thing to be proud of. But if I admire the interpretation and that alone, what else have I turned out but a mere commentator instead of a lover of wisdom?—except indeed that I happen to be interpreting Chrysippus instead of Homer. So when any one says to me, Prithee, read me Chrysippus, I am more inclined to blush, when I cannot show my deeds to be in harmony and accordance with his sayings.

If Chrysippus had not written obscurely, this fellow would have had nothing to be proud of. But what is it that I want? To understand Nature and to follow her! So I ask who her Interpreter is. When I hear that it is Chrysippus, I go to him. But it seems I do not understand what he wrote. So I look for someone to interpret that. So far there is nothing to be proud of. But when I have found my interpreter, what remains is to put his instructions into practice. This is the only thing to be proud of. But if I admire the interpretation and nothing more, what have I turned into but a mere commentator instead of a lover of wisdom? The only difference is that I happen to be interpreting Chrysippus instead of Homer. So when anyone says to me, Please, read me Chrysippus, I am more inclined to blush when I cannot show that my deeds agree and harmonize with his sayings.

At feasts, remember that you are entertaining two guests, body and soul. What you give to the body, you presently lose; what you give to the soul, you keep for ever.

At meals, remember you're feeding two guests: your body and your soul. What you give to the body is gone soon enough. What you give to the soul stays with you forever.

At meals, see to it that those who serve be not more in number than those who are served. It is absurd for a crowd of persons to be dancing attendance on half a dozen chairs.

When you eat, make sure you don't have more servers than diners. It's ridiculous to have a crowd of people waiting on just a few guests.

It is best to share with your attendants what is going forward, both in the labour of preparation and in the enjoyment of the feast itself. If such a thing be difficult at the time, recollect that you who are not weary are being served by those that are; you who are eating and drinking by those who do neither; you who are talking by those who are silent; you who are at ease by those who are under constraint. Thus no sudden wrath will betray you into unreasonable conduct, nor will you behave harshly by irritating another.

It's best to include your servants in what's happening, both in preparing the meal and in enjoying the feast itself. If that's difficult at the moment, remember this: you're resting while being served by those who are tired. You're eating and drinking while they do neither. You're talking while they stay silent. You're comfortable while they work under pressure. When you keep this in mind, sudden anger won't push you into unreasonable behavior. You won't act harshly or irritate others.

When Xanthippe was chiding Socrates for making scanty preparation for entertaining his friends, he answered:—“If they are friends of ours they will not care for that; if they are not, we shall care nothing for them!”

When Xanthippe criticized Socrates for not preparing enough to entertain his friends, he replied: "If they are our friends, they won't care about that. If they aren't, we won't care about them!"

Asked, Who is the rich man? Epictetus replied, “He who is content.”

When asked, Who is the rich man? Epictetus replied, "He who is content."

Favorinus tells us how Epictetus would also say that there were two faults far graver and fouler than any others—inability to bear, and inability to forbear, when we neither patiently bear the blows that must be borne, nor abstain from the things and the pleasures we ought to abstain from. “So,” he went on, “if a man will only have these two words at heart, and heed them carefully by ruling and watching over himself, he will for the most part fall into no sin, and his life will be tranquil and serene.” He meant the words [Greek: Anechou kai apechou]—“Bear and Forbear.”

Favorinus tells us that Epictetus identified two faults worse than all others. The first is being unable to bear hardship. The second is being unable to hold back from things we should avoid. We fail when we don't patiently endure the difficulties we must face. We also fail when we don't stay away from the things and pleasures we should resist. "So," Epictetus continued, "if someone keeps these two words in mind and follows them carefully, ruling and watching over himself, he will mostly avoid sin. His life will be calm and peaceful." He meant the words [Greek: Anechou kai apechou], which mean "Bear and Forbear."

On all occasions these thoughts should be at hand:—

Keep these thoughts ready at all times:

Again:

Again:

Once more:—

Once more:—

We shall then be like Socrates, when we can indite hymns of praise to the Gods in prison.

We will be like Socrates when we can write hymns praising the Gods even while in prison.

It is hard to combine and unite these two qualities, the carefulness of one who is affected by circumstances, and the intrepidity of one who heeds them not. But it is not impossible: else were happiness also impossible. We should act as we do in seafaring.

It's hard to combine these two qualities: the careful attention of someone affected by circumstances, and the fearless attitude of someone who ignores them. But it's not impossible. If it were, happiness would also be impossible. We should act as we do when sailing.

“What can I do?”—Choose the master, the crew, the day, the opportunity. Then comes a sudden storm. What matters it to me? my part has been fully done. The matter is in the hands of another—the Master of the ship. The ship is foundering. What then have I to do? I do the only thing that remains to me—to be drowned without fear, without a cry, without upbraiding God, but knowing that what has been born must likewise perish. For I am not Eternity, but a human being—a part of the whole, as an hour is part of the day. I must come like the hour, and like the hour must pass!

"What can I do?" Choose the master, the crew, the day, the opportunity. Then a sudden storm hits. What does it matter to me? I've done my part completely. The situation is now in someone else's hands—the Master of the ship. The ship is sinking. What should I do then? I do the only thing left to me—drown without fear, without crying out, without blaming God. I know that what has been born must also die. I am not eternal, but a human being—a part of the whole, just as an hour is part of the day. I must arrive like the hour, and like the hour, I must pass away.

And now we are sending you to Rome to spy out the land; but none send a coward as such a spy, that, if he hear but a noise and see a shadow moving anywhere, loses his wits and comes flying to say, The enemy are upon us!

Now we're sending you to Rome to spy out the land. But no one sends a coward as a spy. A coward hears a noise or sees a shadow moving somewhere, loses his nerve, and comes running back to report, The enemy are upon us!

So if you go now, and come and tell us: “Everything at Rome is terrible: Death is terrible, Exile is terrible, Slander is terrible, Want is terrible; fly, comrades! the enemy are upon us!” we shall reply, Get you gone, and prophesy to yourself! we have but erred in sending such a spy as you. Diogenes, who was sent as a spy long before you, brought us back another report than this. He says that Death is no evil; for it need not even bring shame with it. He says that Fame is but the empty noise of madmen. And what report did this spy bring us of Pain, what of Pleasure, what of Want? That to be clothed in sackcloth is better than any purple robe; that sleeping on the bare ground is the softest couch; and in proof of each assertion he points to his own courage, constancy, and freedom; to his own healthy and muscular frame. “There is no enemy near,” he cries, “all is perfect peace!”

So if you go now and come tell us: "Everything at Rome is terrible. Death is terrible. Exile is terrible. Slander is terrible. Want is terrible. Fly, comrades! The enemy is upon us!" we'll reply, Get out of here and prophesy to yourself! We made a mistake sending a spy like you. Diogenes, who was sent as a spy long before you, brought us back a different report. He says that Death is no evil, for it doesn't even need to bring shame with it. He says that Fame is just the empty noise of madmen. And what report did this spy bring us about Pain, about Pleasure, about Want? That wearing sackcloth is better than any purple robe. That sleeping on bare ground is the softest couch. And as proof of each claim, he points to his own courage, constancy, and freedom. He points to his own healthy and muscular body. "There is no enemy near," he cries, "all is perfect peace!"

If a man has this peace—not the peace proclaimed by Cæsar (how indeed should he have it to proclaim?), nay, but the peace proclaimed by God through reason, will not that suffice him when alone, when he beholds and reflects:—Now can no evil happen unto me; for me there is no robber, for me no earthquake; all things are full of peace, full of tranquillity; neither highway nor city nor gathering of men, neither neighbor nor comrade can do me hurt. Another supplies my food, whose care it is; another my raiment; another hath given me perceptions of sense and primary conceptions. And when He supplies my necessities no more, it is that He is sounding the retreat, that He hath opened the door, and is saying to thee, Come!—Wither? To nought that thou needest fear, but to the friendly kindred elements whence thou didst spring. Whatsoever of fire is in thee, unto fire shall return; whatsoever of earth, unto earth; of spirit, unto spirit; of water, unto water. There is no Hades, no fabled rivers of Sighs, of Lamentation, or of Fire: but all things are full of Beings spiritual and divine. With thoughts like these, beholding the Sun, Moon, and Stars, enjoying earth and sea, a man is neither helpless nor alone!

If a man has this peace, not the peace proclaimed by Cæsar (how indeed could he have it to proclaim?), but the peace proclaimed by God through reason, will that not be enough for him when he is alone? Will it not suffice when he looks around and reflects: Now no evil can happen to me. For me there is no robber, for me no earthquake. All things are full of peace, full of tranquillity. No highway, no city, no gathering of men, no neighbor, no comrade can do me harm. Another supplies my food, the one whose care it is. Another supplies my clothing. Another has given me my senses and primary conceptions. And when God no longer supplies my needs, it is because he is sounding the retreat. He has opened the door and is saying to you, Come! Where to? To nothing you need fear, but to the friendly, kindred elements from which you sprang. Whatever of fire is in you will return to fire. Whatever of earth, to earth. Of spirit, to spirit. Of water, to water. There is no Hades, no fabled rivers of Sighs, of Lamentation, or of Fire. All things are full of Beings spiritual and divine. With thoughts like these, looking at the Sun, Moon, and Stars, and enjoying earth and sea, a man is neither helpless nor alone!

What wouldst thou be found doing when overtaken by Death? If I might choose, I would be found doing some deed of true humanity, of wide import, beneficent and noble. But if I may not be found engaged in aught so lofty, let me hope at least for this—what none may hinder, what is surely in my power—that I may be found raising up in myself that which had fallen; learning to deal more wisely with the things of sense; working out my own tranquillity, and thus rendering that which is its due to every relation of life. . . .

What would you want to be found doing when death overtakes you? If I could choose, I would be found doing some deed of true humanity, of wide importance, generous and noble. But if I may not be found engaged in anything so lofty, let me hope at least for this. No one can hinder it, and it is surely in my power. Let me be found raising up in myself what had fallen. Let me be found learning to deal more wisely with the things of sense. Let me be found working out my own tranquillity, and in this way giving each of my relations in life its due. . . .

If death surprise me thus employed, it is enough if I can stretch forth my hands to God and say, “The faculties which I received at Thy hands for apprehending this thine Administration, I have not neglected. As far as in me lay, I have done Thee no dishonour. Behold how I have used the senses, the primary conceptions which Thous gavest me. Have I ever laid anything to Thy charge? Have I ever murmured at aught that came to pass, or wished it otherwise? Have I in anything transgressed the relations of life? For that Thou didst beget me, I thank Thee for that Thou hast given: for the time during which I have used the things that were Thine, it suffices me. Take them back and place them wherever Thou wilt! They were all Thine, and Thou gavest them me.”—If a man depart thus minded, is it not enough? What life is fairer and more noble, what end happier than his?

If death surprises me while I am occupied in this way, it is enough if I can stretch out my hands to God and say, “The faculties I received from you for understanding this Administration of yours, I have not neglected. As far as it was in my power, I have done you no dishonor. See how I have used the senses and the primary conceptions you gave me. Have I ever blamed you for anything? Have I ever grumbled at anything that happened, or wished it otherwise? Have I in anything violated the relations of life? I thank you that you brought me into being. I thank you for what you have given. The time during which I have used the things that were yours is enough for me. Take them back and place them wherever you will! They were all yours, and you gave them to me.” If a man departs in this frame of mind, is that not enough? What life is fairer and nobler, what end happier than his?