Book IX

Marcus establishes that injustice is impiety because the universe created rational creatures to help one another, and therefore violating this is violating the will of nature itself.

He distinguishes between intentional lying, which commits injustice directly, and unintentional falsehood, which violates nature by disagreeing with the universal order.

Those who treat pleasure as good and pain as evil must impiously accuse nature of injustice, since nature distributes both equally to good and bad without desert.

Since nature treats pleasure and pain as indifferent, living according to nature means maintaining equal indifference toward pleasure, pain, death, life, honor, and dishonor.

Marcus clarifies that nature's indifferent use of these things reflects divine Providence's initial deliberation that resolved the world's creation with all its necessary consequences.

While the ideal is to depart having lived free from falsehood and vice, the practical comfort is to die weary of wickedness rather than desiring to continue in it.

Corruption of the mind is a worse plague for men as rational creatures than any distemper of the air is for creatures in general.

Marcus argues death is natural and should be accepted patiently like other natural processes of growing, aging, and developing.

Death is comparable to an embryo leaving the womb; one should expect the soul's departure from the body with the same composure as waiting for birth.

A powerful remedy against fear of death is to consider the corrupted nature of the people and opinions you will leave behind.

Since you live among people with different beliefs, the hardship of remaining here gives you reason to welcome death rather than fear it.

He who sins or commits injustice makes himself worse; wrongdoing through both action and omission hurts the wrongdoer.

Right perception of objects, charitable action, and acceptance of what proceeds from God are sufficient for living well.

Marcus lists four practices: eliminate false impressions, use deliberation, quench desire, and keep the mind free and autonomous.

Just as there is one earth and one air, all rational creatures share a single rational soul that naturally inclines them toward unity.

All material elements naturally tend toward their kind—earth downward, fire upward—demonstrating the universal law of attraction to one's own nature.

While unreasoning creatures form herds and broods from natural affection, rational creatures establish commonwealths, friendships, and families.

Even distant stars and planets exhibit mutual sympathy, showing that unity and connection are especially proper to things of superior nature.

Ironically, reasonable creatures are the only beings that have forgotten their natural inclination toward one another, despite reason being most excellent.

Though rational creatures resist their natural unity, they are still caught and constrained by nature; no human can naturally live alone.

All things have their proper time to bear fruit; reason's fruit is both general (for others' use) and particular (for itself).

Reason begets itself in others and multiplies through diffusion, being diffusive in nature.

If you can teach others better, do so; if not, remember mildness and goodness are divine gifts for bearing with others.

Marcus challenges: if the gods are good to the wicked in some things, why can't you be so too?

Work as one fulfilling nature's requirement through charity and mutual social obligation, not seeking recognition or pity.

You cannot escape trouble by leaving it externally; you must cast out the opinions within that cause disturbance.

All worldly pursuits are common, base, and last only a day—the same in earlier ages as now.

Things themselves don't know or say anything; only the understanding passes judgment on them.

True good and evil for a reasonable person lie in action, not in feeling or passion.

This simple image illustrates that external things like height and descent are indifferent to the object—a lesson for accepting externals.

Rather than fearing others' judgments of you, examine their minds and see what they judge of themselves.

Everything in the world is constantly altered and corrupted, and you yourself are subject to perpetual change.

If someone else sins, it is their concern, not yours; you should not be troubled by it.

Changes from one age to another are kinds of death; since no grief comes from life changes, neither should come from life's final cessation.

When judging actions, turn to your own reason to ensure justice, to the universal nature to remember your connection, and to the other's understanding to show compassion.

Since you are part of a common society, every action must serve that society's perfection; to do otherwise is seditious.

Marcus compares human anger to children's chatter and human life to wretched souls delaying the fall of dead bodies, with reference to ancient dirge songs.

To understand something, examine the cause itself stripped of material circumstances, then consider the time duration that cause can subsist.

Marcus diagnoses that infinite troubles arise because you don't accept your understanding operating according to its natural constitution as sufficient happiness.

When falsely accused or reproached, look into the accuser's mind and understand what kind of person they are, then you'll see no reason for trouble.

The gods themselves help others in matters they deem important, using dreams and oracles, demonstrating universal goodness.

Whether the universe is providentially governed (in which case the part should accept the whole's good) or ruled by atoms (in which case use your own providence), either way all is well.

Observing the rapid succession of changes leads any rational person to despise all worldly things.

The creative force of the universe is like a mighty torrent that carries everything along inevitably.

Marcus criticizes those professing virtue and philosophy while remaining enslaved to base opinions and affecting gravity.

Marcus exhorts: do what your nature now requires and pursue it steadily, regardless of whether anyone knows of it.

Since you may not achieve Plato's perfect republic, be content with small progress if others benefit even a little.

Marcus questions whether such philosophers actually abandon their false opinions, since true profit requires changed beliefs.

Without changed opinions, all ostentation of virtue is mere wretchedness of enslaved minds that groan privately while pretending obedience.

Marcus cites Alexander, Philippus, and Demetrius as examples of those who may have lived splendidly but whose example he rejects.

The true effect of philosophy is unaffected simplicity and modesty, not ostentation and vainglory.

Marcus instructs visualizing flocks, sacrifices, navigation, and the various conditions of earthly life from a cosmic perspective.

Contemplate the past, present, and future lives of all peoples, noting how lives are always changing.

Many have never heard your name, many will soon forget it, and those who praised you may soon disparage you.

The sum of wisdom: accept contentedly what comes from God, and ensure that what proceeds from you is just action for others' good.

Many troubles depend entirely on conceit and opinion; eliminating these frees space and peace.

Comprehend the whole world mentally and contemplate the brief duration of each particular thing between generation and dissolution.

All things seen will soon perish, those who see their corruption will soon vanish, and the hundred-year-old and the young die to the same end.

Consider what others care about and what they pursue; imagine their souls made visible and see how full they are of conceit and false opinion.

Corruption and loss are nothing but change and alteration, which is what the nature of the universe most delights in and operates by.

Marcus challenges the assumption that things have always gone ill, asking whether no divine power could rectify worldly disorder.

The world cannot be forever condemned to woes and miseries; this refutes the premise that all has gone ill.

The body is mere water, dust, and putrid materials easily corrupted; this recognition should lead to contempt for bodily pursuits.

Marble, gold, silver, royal apparel are ultimately just earth's products or an animal's hair and shell-fish blood.

Your life itself is merely an exhalation of blood, subject to change into something else entirely.

Marcus questions whether endless complaining and dissembling will ever cease, and asks what truly troubles him.

When troubled, examine the cause and the matter separately; neither is weighty enough to justify trouble.

It is time to fulfill your duty to the gods with greater goodness and simplicity.

The duration of one's experience is indifferent to understanding its nature.

When another wrongs you, remember that if he has sinned, the injury affects him, not you.

Whether reason providentially governs all or atoms cause everything, in both cases there is reason to trouble oneself.

Since the rational part doesn't void excrements or feed like animals, it should not be subject to death like the body.

If gods can help with anything, they can grant freedom from fear and desire; thus pray for this rather than for worldly goods.

If the gods grant you liberty in some things, use that liberty to free your mind rather than to pursue worldly possessions slavishly.

Despite the apparent freedom in certain matters, the gods may still help through prayer; test this yourself.

Others pray for specific desires or to be rid of people; Marcus contrasts these with prayers for inner freedom.

Instead, pray that you don't lust, that you bear people patiently, and don't fear loss—direct all prayer to doing good to others.

Epicurus, even in sickness, focused on philosophical contemplation and the mind's freedom rather than bodily cure.

Epicurus didn't entirely entrust his body to physicians or expect great recovery; he was content in his present state.

In sickness or other extremity, maintain philosophical composure and don't abandon philosophy for naive naturalists' advice.

It is common to all professions to attend only to what one is currently doing and the proper tool for that work.

When offended by someone's impudence, recognize that impudent people must exist; desiring their non-existence is foolish.

By reasoning that every vicious type must necessarily exist, you become more meek toward particular offenders.

Nature has furnished man with specific virtues to counter each vice—for instance, goodness and meekness against ingratitude.

Consider whether you can teach the erring person better, since any sinner deviates from his proper end through deception.

No wrongdoer among those you resent has made your mind (your true subject of harm) worse than it was.

You should not wonder that the ignorant commit ignorant acts; instead, blame yourself for not foreseeing what reason suggested.

When someone false or ungrateful wrongs you, blame yourself for expecting fidelity from such a person.

When you do good, don't bound your thoughts expecting further reward; the act itself obtains your end and is full recompense.

What more do you want? You've acted according to your natural constitution as a man; this is the only recompense needed.

Just as eyes need no reward for seeing or feet for walking, man needs no reward for doing good to others.

Man is born to help others escape error or achieve goods in wealth, life, and preferment; to do so is to fulfill his nature.