neo_faker

# Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, Book 1 & 2, was taken from the Internet Classics Archive
# https://classics.mit.edu/Antoninus/meditations.html

%{
  "text" => ~s"""
  From my grandfather Verus I learned good morals and the government of my temper.

  From the reputation and remembrance of my father, modesty and a manly character.

  From my mother, piety and beneficence, and abstinence, not only from evil deeds, but even from
  evil thoughts; and further, simplicity in my way of living, far removed from the habits of the
  rich.

  From my great-grandfather, not to have frequented public schools, and to have had good teachers
  at home, and to know that on such things a man should spend liberally.

  From my governor, to be neither of the green nor of the blue party at the games in the Circus,
  nor a partizan either of the Parmularius or the Scutarius at the gladiators' fights; from him
  too I learned endurance of labour, and to want little, and to work with my own hands, and not to
  meddle with other people's affairs, and not to be ready to listen to slander.

  From Diognetus, not to busy myself about trifling things, and not to give credit to what was
  said by miracle-workers and jugglers about incantations and the driving away of daemons and such
  things; and not to breed quails for fighting, nor to give myself up passionately to such things;
  and to endure freedom of speech; and to have become intimate with philosophy; and to have been a
  hearer, first of Bacchius, then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written dialogues in my
  youth; and to have desired a plank bed and skin, and whatever else of the kind belongs to the
  Grecian discipline.

  From Rusticus I received the impression that my character required improvement and discipline;
  and from him I learned not to be led astray to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on
  speculative matters, nor to delivering little hortatory orations, nor to showing myself off as a
  man who practises much discipline, or does benevolent acts in order to make a display; and to
  abstain from rhetoric, and poetry, and fine writing; and not to walk about in the house in my
  outdoor dress, nor to do other things of the kind; and to write my letters with simplicity, like
  the letter which Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa to my mother; and with respect to those who have
  offended me by words, or done me wrong, to be easily disposed to be pacified and reconciled,
  as soon as they have shown a readiness to be reconciled; and to read carefully, and not to be
  satisfied with a superficial understanding of a book; nor hastily to give my assent to those who
  talk overmuch; and I am indebted to him for being acquainted with the discourses of Epictetus,
  which he communicated to me out of his own collection.

  From Apollonius I learned freedom of will and undeviating steadiness of purpose; and to look to
  nothing else, not even for a moment, except to reason; and to be always the same, in sharp
  pains, on the occasion of the loss of a child, and in long illness; and to see clearly in a
  living example that the same man can be both most resolute and yielding, and not peevish in
  giving his instruction; and to have had before my eyes a man who clearly considered his
  experience and his skill in expounding philosophical principles as the smallest of his merits;
  and from him I learned how to receive from friends what are esteemed favours, without being
  either humbled by them or letting them pass unnoticed.

  From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, and the example of a family governed in a fatherly
  manner, and the idea of living conformably to nature; and gravity without affectation, and to
  look carefully after the interests of friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons, and those who
  form opinions without consideration: he had the power of readily accommodating himself to all,
  so that intercourse with him was more agreeable than any flattery; and at the same time he
  was most highly venerated by those who associated with him: and he had the faculty both of
  discovering and ordering, in an intelligent and methodical way, the principles necessary for
  life; and he never showed anger or any other passion, but was entirely free from passion, and
  also most affectionate; and he could express approbation without noisy display, and he possessed
  much knowledge without ostentation.

  From Alexander the grammarian, to refrain from fault-finding, and not in a reproachful way to
  chide those who uttered any barbarous or solecistic or strange-sounding expression;
  but dexterously to introduce the very expression which ought to have been used, and in the way
  of answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an inquiry about the thing itself, not about the
  word, or by some other fit suggestion.

  From Fronto I learned to observe what envy, and duplicity, and hypocrisy are in a tyrant, and
  that generally those among us who are called Patricians are rather deficient in paternal
  affection.

  From Alexander the Platonic, not frequently nor without necessity to say to any one, or to write
  in a letter, that I have no leisure; nor continually to excuse the neglect of duties required by
  our relation to those with whom we live, by alleging urgent occupations.

  From Catulus, not to be indifferent when a friend finds fault, even if he should find fault
  without reason, but to try to restore him to his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak
  well of teachers, as it is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love my children truly.

  From my brother Severus, to love my kin, and to love truth, and to love justice; and through him
  I learned to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I received the idea of a
  polity in which there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regard to equal rights
  and equal freedom of speech, and the idea of a kingly government which respects most of all the
  freedom of the governed; I learned from him also consistency and undeviating steadiness in my
  regard for philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and to give to others readily, and to
  cherish good hopes, and to believe that I am loved by my friends; and in him I observed no
  concealment of his opinions with respect to those whom he condemned, and that his friends had
  no need to conjecture what he wished or did not wish, but it was quite plain.

  From Maximus I learned self-government, and not to be led aside by anything; and cheerfulness
  in all circumstances, as well as in illness; and a just admixture in the moral character of
  sweetness and dignity, and to do what was set before me without complaining. I observed that
  everybody believed that he thought as he spoke, and that in all that he did he never had any bad
  intention; and he never showed amazement and surprise, and was never in a hurry, and never put
  off doing a thing, nor was perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to disguise his
  vexation, nor, on the other hand, was he ever passionate or suspicious. He was accustomed to do
  acts of beneficence, and was ready to forgive, and was free from all falsehood; and he presented
  the appearance of a man who could not be diverted from right rather than of a man who had been
  improved. I observed, too, that no man could ever think that he was despised by Maximus, or ever
  venture to think himself a better man. He had also the art of being humorous in an agreeable
  way.

  In my father I observed mildness of temper, and unchangeable resolution in the things which he
  had determined after due deliberation; and no vainglory in those things which men call honours;
  and a love of labour and perseverance; and a readiness to listen to those who had anything to
  propose for the common weal; and undeviating firmness in giving to every man according to his
  deserts; and a knowledge derived from experience of the occasions for vigorous action and for
  remission. And I observed that he had overcome all passion for boys; and he considered himself
  no more than any other citizen; and he released his friends from all obligation to sup with him
  or to attend him of necessity when he went abroad, and those who had failed to accompany him, by
  reason of any urgent circumstances, always found him the same. I observed too his habit of
  careful inquiry in all matters of deliberation, and his persistency, and that he never stopped
  his investigation through being satisfied with appearances which first present themselves; and
  that his disposition was to keep his friends, and not to be soon tired of them, nor yet to be
  extravagant in his affection; and to be satisfied on all occasions, and cheerful; and to foresee
  things a long way off, and to provide for the smallest without display; and to check immediately
  popular applause and all flattery; and to be ever watchful over the things which were necessary
  for the administration of the empire, and to be a good manager of the expenditure, and patiently
  to endure the blame which he got for such conduct; and he was neither superstitious with respect
  to the gods, nor did he court men by gifts or by trying to please them, or by flattering the
  populace; but he showed sobriety in all things and firmness, and never any mean thoughts or
  action, nor love of novelty. And the things which conduce in any way to the commodity of life,
  and of which fortune gives an abundant supply, he used without arrogance and without excusing
  himself; so that when he had them, he enjoyed them without affectation, and when he had them
  not, he did not want them. No one could ever say of him that he was either a sophist or a
  home-bred flippant slave or a pedant; but every one acknowledged him to be a man ripe, perfect,
  above flattery, able to manage his own and other men's affairs. Besides this, he honoured those
  who were true philosophers, and he did not reproach those who pretended to be philosophers, nor
  yet was he easily led by them. He was also easy in conversation, and he made himself agreeable
  without any offensive affectation. He took a reasonable care of his body's health, not as one
  who was greatly attached to life, nor out of regard to personal appearance, nor yet in a
  careless way, but so that, through his own attention, he very seldom stood in need of the
  physician's art or of medicine or external applications. He was most ready to give way without
  envy to those who possessed any particular faculty, such as that of eloquence or knowledge of
  the law or of morals, or of anything else; and he gave them his help, that each might enjoy
  reputation according to his deserts; and he always acted conformably to the institutions of his
  country, without showing any affectation of doing so. Further, he was not fond of change nor
  unsteady, but he loved to stay in the same places, and to employ himself about the same things;
  and after his paroxysms of headache he came immediately fresh and vigorous to his usual
  occupations. His secrets were not known but very few and very rare, and these only about public
  matters; and he showed prudence and economy in the exhibition of the public spectacles and the
  construction of public buildings, his donations to the people, and in such things, for he was a
  man who looked to what ought to be done, not to the reputation which is got by a man's acts.
  He did not take the bath at unseasonable hours; he was not fond of building houses, nor curious
  about what he ate, nor about the texture and colour of his clothes, nor about the beauty of his
  slaves. His dress came from Lorium, his villa on the coast, and from Lanuvium generally. We know
  how he behaved to the toll-collector at Tusculum who asked his pardon; and such was all his
  behaviour. There was in him nothing harsh, nor implacable, nor violent, nor, as one may say,
  anything carried to the sweating point; but he examined all things severally, as if he had
  abundance of time, and without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously and consistently. And
  that might be applied to him which is recorded of Socrates, that he was able both to abstain
  from, and to enjoy, those things which many are too weak to abstain from, and cannot enjoy
  without excess. But to be strong enough both to bear the one and to be sober in the other is the
  mark of a man who has a perfect and invincible soul, such as he showed in the illness of
  Maximus.

  To the gods I am indebted for having good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good
  teachers, good associates, good kinsmen and friends, nearly everything good. Further, I owe it
  to the gods that I was not hurried into any offence against any of them, though I had a
  disposition which, if opportunity had offered, might have led me to do something of this kind;
  but, through their favour, there never was such a concurrence of circumstances as put me to the
  trial. Further, I am thankful to the gods that I was not longer brought up with my grandfather's
  concubine, and that I preserved the flower of my youth, and that I did not make proof of my
  virility before the proper season, but even deferred the time; that I was subjected to a ruler
  and a father who was able to take away all pride from me, and to bring me to the knowledge that
  it is possible for a man to live in a palace without wanting either guards or embroidered
  dresses, or torches and statues, and such-like show; but that it is in such a man's power to
  bring himself very near to the fashion of a private person, without being for this reason either
  meaner in thought, or more remiss in action, with respect to the things which must be done for
  the public interest in a manner that befits a ruler. I thank the gods for giving me such a
  brother, who was able by his moral character to rouse me to vigilance over myself, and who, at
  the same time, pleased me by his respect and affection; that my children have not been stupid
  nor deformed in body; that I did not make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and the other
  studies, in which I should perhaps have been completely engaged, if I had seen that I was making
  progress in them; that I made haste to place those who brought me up in the station of honour,
  which they seemed to desire, without putting them off with hope of my doing it some time after,
  because they were then still young; that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus, Maximus; that I received
  clear and frequent impressions about living according to nature, and what kind of a life that
  is, so that, so far as depended on the gods, and their gifts, and help, and inspirations,
  nothing hindered me from forthwith living according to nature, though I still fall short of it
  through my own fault, and through not observing the admonitions of the gods, and, I may almost
  say, their direct instructions; that my body has held out so long in such a kind of life; that
  I never touched either Benedicta or Theodotus, and that, after having fallen into amatory
  passions, I was cured; and, though I was often out of humour with Rusticus, I never did anything
  of which I had occasion to repent; that, though it was my mother's fate to die young, she spent
  the last years of her life with me; that, whenever I wished to help any man in his need, or on
  any other occasion, I was never told that I had not the means of doing it; and that to myself
  the same necessity never happened, to receive anything from another; that I have such a wife, so
  obedient, and so affectionate, and so simple; that I had abundance of good masters for my
  children; and that remedies have been shown to me by dreams, both others, and against
  bloodspitting and giddiness...; and that, when I had an inclination to philosophy, I did not
  fall into the hands of any sophist, and that I did not waste my time on writers of histories, or
  in the resolution of syllogisms, or occupy myself about the investigation of appearances in the
  heavens; for all these things require the help of the gods and fortune.

  Among the Quadi at the Granua.

  Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body, the ungrateful,
  arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these things happen to them by reason of their
  ignorance of what is good and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is
  beautiful, and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who does wrong, that it is akin
  to me, not only of the same blood or seed, but that it participates in the same intelligence and
  the same portion of the divinity, I can neither be injured by any of them, for no one can fix on
  me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate him, For we are made for
  co-operation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, like the rows of the upper and lower teeth.
  To act against one another then is contrary to nature; and it is acting against one another to
  be vexed and to turn away.

  Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part. Throw away thy
  books; no longer distract thyself: it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, despise the
  flesh; it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins, and arteries. See the
  breath also, what kind of a thing it is, air, and not always the same, but every moment sent out
  and again sucked in. The third then is the ruling part: consider thus: Thou art an old man; no
  longer let this be a slave, no longer be pulled by the strings like a puppet to unsocial
  movements, no longer either be dissatisfied with thy present lot, or shrink from the future.

  All that is from the gods is full of Providence. That which is from fortune is not separated
  from nature or without an interweaving and involution with the things which are ordered by
  Providence. From thence all things flow; and there is besides necessity, and that which is for
  the advantage of the whole universe, of which thou art a part. But that is good for every part
  of nature which the nature of the whole brings, and what serves to maintain this nature. Now the
  universe is preserved, as by the changes of the elements so by the changes of things compounded
  of the elements. Let these principles be enough for thee, let them always be fixed opinions. But
  cast away the thirst after books, that thou mayest not die murmuring, but cheerfully, truly,
  and from thy heart thankful to the gods.

  Remember how long thou hast been putting off these things, and how often thou hast received an
  opportunity from the gods, and yet dost not use it. Thou must now at last perceive of what
  universe thou art a part, and of what administrator of the universe thy existence is an efflux,
  and that a limit of time is fixed for thee, which if thou dost not use for clearing away the
  clouds from thy mind, it will go and thou wilt go, and it will never return.

  Every moment think steadily as a Roman and a man to do what thou hast in hand with perfect and
  simple dignity, and feeling of affection, and freedom, and justice; and to give thyself relief
  from all other thoughts. And thou wilt give thyself relief, if thou doest every act of thy life
  as if it were the last, laying aside all carelessness and passionate aversion from the commands
  of reason, and all hypocrisy, and self-love, and discontent with the portion which has been
  given to thee. Thou seest how few the things are, the which if a man lays hold of, he is able to
  live a life which flows in quiet, and is like the existence of the gods; for the gods on their
  part will require nothing more from him who observes these things.

  Do wrong to thyself, do wrong to thyself, my soul; but thou wilt no longer have the opportunity
  of honouring thyself. Every man's life is sufficient. But thine is nearly finished, though thy
  soul reverences not itself but places thy felicity in the souls of others.

  Do the things external which fall upon thee distract thee? Give thyself time to learn something
  new and good, and cease to be whirled around. But then thou must also avoid being carried about
  the other way. For those too are triflers who have wearied themselves in life by their activity,
  and yet have no object to which to direct every movement, and, in a word, all their thoughts.

  Through not observing what is in the mind of another a man has seldom been seen to be unhappy;
  but those who do not observe the movements of their own minds must of necessity be unhappy.

  This thou must always bear in mind, what is the nature of the whole, and what is my nature, and
  how this is related to that, and what kind of a part it is of what kind of a whole; and that
  there is no one who hinders thee from always doing and saying the things which are according to
  the nature of which thou art a part.

  Theophrastus, in his comparison of bad acts- such a comparison as one would make in accordance
  with the common notions of mankind- says, like a true philosopher, that the offences which are
  committed through desire are more blameable than those which are committed through anger. For he
  who is excited by anger seems to turn away from reason with a certain pain and unconscious
  contraction; but he who offends through desire, being overpowered by pleasure, seems to be in a
  manner more intemperate and more womanish in his offences. Rightly then, and in a way worthy of
  philosophy, he said that the offence which is committed with pleasure is more blameable than
  that which is committed with pain; and on the whole the one is more like a person who has been
  first wronged and through pain is compelled to be angry; but the other is moved by his own
  impulse to do wrong, being carried towards doing something by desire.

  Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regulate every act and
  thought accordingly. But to go away from among men, if there are gods, is not a thing to be
  afraid of, for the gods will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if
  they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid of gods
  or devoid of Providence? But in truth they do exist, and they do care for human things, and they
  have put all the means in man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils. And as to the
  rest, if there was anything evil, they would have provided for this also, that it should be
  altogether in a man's power not to fall into it. Now that which does not make a man worse, how
  can it make a man's life worse? But neither through ignorance, nor having the knowledge, but not
  the power to guard against or correct these things, is it possible that the nature of the
  universe has overlooked them; nor is it possible that it has made so great a mistake, either
  through want of power or want of skill, that good and evil should happen indiscriminately to the
  good and the bad. But death certainly, and life, honour and dishonour, pain and pleasure, all
  these things equally happen to good men and bad, being things which make us neither better nor
  worse. Therefore they are neither good nor evil.

  How quickly all things disappear, in the universe the bodies themselves, but in time the
  remembrance of them; what is the nature of all sensible things, and particularly those which
  attract with the bait of pleasure or terrify by pain, or are noised abroad by vapoury fame; how
  worthless, and contemptible, and sordid, and perishable, and dead they are- all this it is the
  part of the intellectual faculty to observe. To observe too who these are whose opinions and
  voices give reputation; what death is, and the fact that, if a man looks at it in itself, and by
  the abstractive power of reflection resolves into their parts all the things which present
  themselves to the imagination in it, he will then consider it to be nothing else than an
  operation of nature; and if any one is afraid of an operation of nature, he is a child. This,
  however, is not only an operation of nature, but it is also a thing which conduces to the
  purposes of nature. To observe too how man comes near to the deity, and by what part of him, and
  when this part of man is so disposed.

  Nothing is more wretched than a man who traverses everything in a round, and pries into the
  things beneath the earth, as the poet says, and seeks by conjecture what is in the minds of his
  neighbours, without perceiving that it is sufficient to attend to the daemon within him, and to
  reverence it sincerely. And reverence of the daemon consists in keeping it pure from passion and
  thoughtlessness, and dissatisfaction with what comes from gods and men. For the things from the
  gods merit veneration for their excellence; and the things from men should be dear to us by
  reason of kinship; and sometimes even, in a manner, they move our pity by reason of men's
  ignorance of good and bad; this defect being not less than that which deprives us of the power
  of distinguishing things that are white and black.

  Though thou shouldst be going to live three thousand years, and as many times ten thousand
  years, still remember that no man loses any other life than this which he now lives, nor lives
  any other than this which he now loses. The longest and shortest are thus brought to the same.
  For the present is the same to all, though that which perishes is not the same; and so that
  which is lost appears to be a mere moment. For a man cannot lose either the past or the future:
  for what a man has not, how can any one take this from him? These two things then thou must bear
  in mind; the one, that all things from eternity are of like forms and come round in a circle,
  and that it makes no difference whether a man shall see the same things during a hundred years
  or two hundred, or an infinite time; and the second, that the longest liver and he who will die
  soonest lose just the same. For the present is the only thing of which a man can be deprived,
  if it is true that this is the only thing which he has, and that a man cannot lose a thing if he
  has it not.

  Remember that all is opinion. For what was said by the Cynic Monimus is manifest: and manifest
  too is the use of what was said, if a man receives what may be got out of it as far as it is
  true.

  The soul of man does violence to itself, first of all, when it becomes an abscess and, as it
  were, a tumour on the universe, so far as it can. For to be vexed at anything which happens is a
  separation of ourselves from nature, in some part of which the natures of all other things are
  contained. In the next place, the soul does violence to itself when it turns away from any man,
  or even moves towards him with the intention of injuring, such as are the souls of those who
  are angry. In the third place, the soul does violence to itself when it is overpowered by
  pleasure or by pain. Fourthly, when it plays a part, and does or says anything insincerely and
  untruly. Fifthly, when it allows any act of its own and any movement to be without an aim, and
  does anything thoughtlessly and without considering what it is, it being right that even the
  smallest things be done with reference to an end; and the end of rational animals is to follow
  the reason and the law of the most ancient city and polity.

  Of human life the time is a point, and the substance is in a flux, and the perception dull, and
  the composition of the whole body subject to putrefaction, and the soul a whirl, and fortune
  hard to divine, and fame a thing devoid of judgement. And, to say all in a word, everything
  which belongs to the body is a stream, and what belongs to the soul is a dream and vapour, and
  life is a warfare and a stranger's sojourn, and after-fame is oblivion. What then is that which
  is able to conduct a man? One thing and only one, philosophy. But this consists in keeping
  the daemon within a man free from violence and unharmed, superior to pains and pleasures, doing
  nothing without purpose, nor yet falsely and with hypocrisy, not feeling the need of another
  man's doing or not doing anything; and besides, accepting all that happens, and all that is
  allotted, as coming from thence, wherever it is, from whence he himself came; and, finally,
  waiting for death with a cheerful mind, as being nothing else than a dissolution of the elements
  of which every living being is compounded. But if there is no harm to the elements themselves in
  each continually changing into another, why should a man have any apprehension about the change
  and dissolution of all the elements? For it is according to nature, and nothing is evil which
  is according to nature.

  This in Carnuntum.
  """
}