Meditations | Page 8

learn nothing from the Imitation of the
author's own life, except in so far as he may be assumed to have
practised his own preachings; the Meditations reflect mood by mood
the mind of him who wrote them. In their intimacy and frankness lies
their great charm. These notes are not sermons; they are not even
confessions. There is always an air of self-consciousness in confessions;
in such revelations there is always a danger of unctuousness or of
vulgarity for the best of men. St. Augus-tine is not always clear of
offence, and John Bunyan himself exaggerates venial peccadilloes into
heinous sins. But Marcus Aurelius is neither vulgar nor unctuous; he
extenuates nothing, but nothing sets down in malice. He never poses
before an audience; he may not be profound, he is always sincere. And
it is a lofty and serene soul which is here disclosed before us. Vulgar
vices seem to have no temptation for him; this is not one tied and
bound with chains which he strives to break. The faults he detects in
himself are often such as most men would have no eyes to see. To serve
the divine spirit which is implanted within him, a man must 'keep
himself pure from all violent passion and evil affection, from all
rashness and vanity, and from all manner of discontent, either in regard
of the gods or men': or, as he says elsewhere, 'unspotted by pleasure,
undaunted by pain.' Unwavering courtesy and consideration are his
aims. 'Whatsoever any man either doth or saith, thou must be good;'
'doth any man offend? It is against himself that he doth offend: why
should it trouble thee?' The offender needs pity, not wrath; those who
must needs be corrected, should be treated with tact and gentleness; and
one must be always ready to learn better. 'The best kind of revenge is,
not to become like unto them.' There are so many hints of offence
forgiven, that we may believe the notes followed sharp on the facts.
Perhaps he has fallen short of his aim, and thus seeks to call his
principles to mind, and to strengthen himself for the future. That these
sayings are not mere talk is plain from the story of Avidius Cassius,
who would have usurped his imperial throne. Thus the emperor

faithfully carries out his own principle, that evil must be overcome with
good. For each fault in others, Nature (says he) has given us a
counteracting virtue; 'as, for example, against the unthankful, it hath
given goodness and meekness, as an antidote.'
One so gentle towards a foe was sure to be a good friend; and indeed
his pages are full of generous gratitude to those who had served him. In
his First Book he sets down to account all the debts due to his kinsfolk
and teachers. To his grandfather he owed his own gentle spirit, to his
father shamefastness and courage; he learnt of his mother to be
religious and bountiful and single-minded. Rusticus did not work in
vain, if he showed his pupil that his life needed amending. Apollonius
taught him simplicity, reasonableness, gratitude, a love of true liberty.
So the list runs on; every one he had dealings with seems to have given
him something good, a sure proof of the goodness of his nature, which
thought no evil.
If his was that honest and true heart which is the Christian ideal, this is
the more wonderful in that he lacked the faith which makes Christians
strong. He could say, it is true, 'either there is a God, and then all is
well; or if all things go by chance and fortune, yet mayest thou use
thine own providence in those things that concern thee properly; and
then art thou well.' Or again, 'We must needs grant that there is a nature
that doth govern the universe.' But his own part in the scheme of things
is so small, that he does not hope for any personal happiness beyond
what a serene soul may win in this mortal life. '0 my soul, the time I
trust will be, when thou shalt be good, simple, more open and visible,
than that body by which it is enclosed;' but this is said of the calm
contentment with human lot which he hopes to attain, not of a time
when the trammels of the body shall be cast off. For the rest, the world
and its fame and wealth, 'all is vanity.' The gods may perhaps have a
particular care for him, but their especial care is for the universe at
large: thus much should suffice. His gods are better than the Stoic gods,
who sit aloof from all human things, untroubled and uncaring, but his
personal hope is hardly stronger. On this point he