Book I: Lessons from Family and Teachers
1. From my grandfather Verus [I learned] good character and control of my temper.
2. From my father’s reputation and the memory of him, I learned modesty and a manly character.
3. From my mother, I learned piety, generosity, and restraint not only from evil deeds but even from evil thoughts. I also learned simplicity in my way of life, far removed from the habits of the rich.
4. From my great-grandfather, I learned the value of not attending public schools, of having good teachers at home, and of knowing that a person should spend generously on such things.
5. From my tutor, I learned not to support either the Green or the Blue faction at the Circus games, or either the small-shield or the large-shield fighters in gladiatorial contests. From him I also learned to endure hard work, need little, work with my own hands, keep out of other people’s affairs, and resist listening to slander.
6. From Diognetus, I learned not to occupy myself with trifles or believe what miracle-workers and conjurers said about incantations, driving away daimons, and such things. I learned not to breed quails [for fighting] or become passionately absorbed in such pursuits, and to tolerate frank speech. I became closely acquainted with philosophy and studied first under Bacchius, then under Tandasis and Marcianus. I wrote dialogues in my youth and came to desire a bed of planks with an animal skin, and whatever else belonged to that Greek discipline.
7. From Rusticus, I gained the conviction that my character needed improvement and discipline. I learned not to be drawn into competing with sophists, writing about speculative matters, or delivering little speeches of exhortation. I learned not to show myself off as someone who practices great self-discipline, or to perform generous acts for display. I learned to refrain from rhetoric, poetry, and elaborate writing; not to walk around the house in my outdoor clothes or do similar things; and to write my letters simply, like the letter Rusticus wrote to my mother from Sinuessa. With people who had offended me in words or wronged me, I learned to be readily appeased and reconciled as soon as they showed a willingness to reconcile. I learned to read carefully, not to settle for a superficial understanding of a book, and not to give hasty assent to people who talk too much. I also owe him my acquaintance with the discourses of Epictetus, which he shared with me from his own collection.
8. From Apollonius, I learned freedom of will and unwavering steadiness of purpose. I learned never to look to anything but reason, even for a moment, and to remain the same through sharp pain, the loss of a child, and long illness. In him I saw clearly that the same person could be both deeply resolute and flexible, and could teach without irritability. Before my eyes was a man who plainly considered his experience and his skill in explaining philosophical principles the least of his merits. From him I learned how to receive what people regard as favors from friends, without either feeling humbled by them or letting them pass unnoticed.
9. From Sextus, I learned kindness and saw the example of a household governed in a fatherly way. I learned the idea of living according to nature, seriousness without affectation, careful attention to my friends’ interests, and tolerance of ignorant people and those who form opinions without thinking. † He could readily adapt himself to everyone, so that his company was more pleasing than any flattery. At the same time, those who associated with him held him in the highest reverence. He could discover and organize the principles needed for life intelligently and methodically. He never showed anger or any other passion, but was entirely free from passion while also being deeply affectionate. He could express approval without noisy display, and he possessed great knowledge without showing it off.
10. From Alexander the grammarian, I learned to avoid fault-finding and not to scold people for using an unidiomatic, ungrammatical, or strange-sounding expression. Instead, I learned to introduce the right expression tactfully while answering, confirming what they said, joining an inquiry into the subject itself rather than the word, or making some other suitable suggestion.
11. From Fronto, I learned to recognize the envy, duplicity, and hypocrisy of a tyrant, and that those among us called patricians are generally somewhat deficient in paternal affection.
12. From Alexander the Platonist, I learned not to tell people, or write in a letter, that I have no time, either frequently or without necessity. Nor should I continually plead urgent business to excuse neglecting the duties that arise from my relationships with those around me.
13. From Catulus, I learned not to disregard a friend’s criticism, even when it is unreasonable, but to try to restore his usual disposition. I learned to be ready to speak well of my teachers, as is reported of Domitius and Athenodotus, and to love my children truly.
14. From my brother Severus, I learned to love my family, truth, and justice. Through him I came to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, and Brutus. From him I gained the idea of a state with the same law for everyone, governed with regard for equal rights and equal freedom of speech, and of a monarchy that respects above all the freedom of those it governs. I also learned from him † consistency and unwavering steadiness in my commitment to philosophy, a willingness to do good and give readily to others, to cherish good hopes, and to believe that my friends love me. I observed that he did not conceal his opinions about those he condemned. His friends never had to guess what he wanted or did not want: it was perfectly clear.
15. From Maximus, I learned self-control, not to be diverted by anything, and cheerfulness in every circumstance, including illness. I learned a proper blend of gentleness and dignity in character, and to do the task before me without complaining. I observed that everyone believed he thought as he spoke and never acted with bad intentions. He never showed amazement or surprise, never hurried or put things off, and was never bewildered or dejected. He never laughed to hide his annoyance, nor was he passionate or suspicious. He habitually did good, readily forgave, and was free from all falsehood. He seemed a man who could not be turned aside from what was right, rather than one who had been reformed. I also observed that no one could ever think Maximus despised him, or venture to think himself a better man. He also knew how to be humorous in a pleasing way. †
16. In my adoptive father, I observed a mild temper and an unchanging resolve in decisions he had reached after careful thought. He took no vain pride in what people call honors. He loved work and persevered, and was ready to listen to anyone with a proposal for the common good. He was unwavering in giving everyone what they deserved, and experience had taught him when to act vigorously and when to ease his efforts. I observed that he had overcome all sexual passion for boys and considered himself no more than any other citizen. He freed his friends from any obligation to dine with him or necessarily accompany him when he went out. Those who had been unable to accompany him because of urgent circumstances always found him unchanged toward them. I also observed his habit of careful inquiry in every matter requiring deliberation, and his persistence. He never stopped investigating because he was satisfied with the first appearances. He kept his friends, neither quickly tiring of them nor being excessive in his affection. He was content and cheerful on every occasion. He foresaw things far ahead and provided for even the smallest matters without display. He immediately checked popular applause and all flattery. He continually watched over what was necessary for governing the empire, managed its spending well, and patiently endured the criticism this brought him. He was neither superstitious about the gods nor eager to win people over with gifts, attempts to please them, or flattery of the populace. He showed moderation and firmness in everything, never any petty thought or action, or love of novelty. Whatever contributed to life’s comfort and fortune supplied abundantly, he used without arrogance or apology. When he had such things, he enjoyed them without affectation; when he lacked them, he did not crave them. No one could ever call him a sophist, a flippant [home-bred] slave, or a pedant. Everyone acknowledged him as mature, complete in character, above flattery, and able to manage both his own affairs and those of others.
He honored true philosophers without reproaching those who pretended to be philosophers, and without being easily led by them. He was easy to talk with and made himself agreeable without offensive affectation. He took reasonable care of his health, neither from an excessive attachment to life nor concern for his appearance, nor carelessly. His own attention meant that he very seldom needed a physician’s skill, medicine, or external treatments. He readily gave way, without envy, to those with particular abilities, whether in eloquence, knowledge of law or morals, or anything else. He helped them so that each could enjoy a reputation matching his merits. He always acted according to his country’s institutions without making a show of it. He was neither fond of change nor unsteady, but preferred to stay in the same places and occupy himself with the same things. After attacks of severe headache, he returned at once to his usual work, fresh and vigorous. He had very few secrets, kept them very rarely, and only concerning public affairs.
He showed prudence and economy in public entertainments, public buildings, gifts to the people, and similar matters. He looked to what ought to be done, rather than the reputation his actions would bring. He did not bathe at unsuitable hours. He was not fond of building houses or particular about his food, the texture and color of his clothes, or the beauty of his slaves. His clothing came from Lorium, his villa on the coast, and generally from Lanuvium. We know how he treated the toll collector at Tusculum who asked his pardon, and this was characteristic of all his behavior. There was nothing harsh, unforgiving, or violent in him, nor anything strained, one might say, to the point of sweating. He examined everything separately, as though he had abundant time, without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously and consistently. What is recorded of Socrates could also be applied to him: 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. To be strong enough both to endure abstinence and to remain temperate in enjoyment marks a person with a complete and invincible soul, such as he showed during the illness of Maximus.
17. To the gods I owe good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good teachers, good companions, good relatives and friends: nearly everything good. I also owe it to the gods that I was not swept into offending any of them. My disposition might have led me to do so if the opportunity had arisen, but through the gods’ favor, circumstances never came together to put me to the test. I thank the gods that I was not brought up any longer with my grandfather’s concubine; that I preserved the flower of my youth; and that I did not exercise my sexual maturity before the proper time, but even delayed it. I thank them that I was under a ruler and father who could take away all my pride and teach me that a person can live in a palace without needing guards, embroidered clothes, torches, statues, or similar display. Such a person can live very nearly like a private citizen, without being any less noble in thought or less diligent in doing what the public interest requires, in a manner befitting a ruler. I thank the gods for giving me a brother whose character could stir me to watchfulness over myself, while his respect and affection also pleased me. I thank them that my children have not been unintelligent or physically deformed; that I did not make greater progress in rhetoric, poetry, and the other studies, which might perhaps have absorbed me completely if I had seen myself advancing in them; and that I quickly placed those who brought me up in the positions of honor they seemed to desire. I did not put them off with the hope that I would do it later because they were still young. I thank the gods that I knew Apollonius, Rusticus, and Maximus; that I received clear and frequent impressions of living according to nature and of what that life is like. So far as depended on the gods and their gifts, help, and inspirations, nothing prevented me from immediately living according to nature. I still fall short through my own fault, through failing to heed the gods’ warnings and, I might almost say, their direct instructions.
I thank them that my body has held out so long in such a life; that I never touched either Benedicta or Theodotus; and that, after falling into sexual passions, I was cured. Though I was often annoyed with Rusticus, I never did anything I had cause to regret. Though my mother was destined to die young, she spent her last years with me. Whenever I wished to help someone in need, or on any other occasion, I was never told that I lacked the means, and I myself never faced the same necessity of receiving help from another. I thank the gods that I have such a wife, so obedient, affectionate, and unassuming; that I had an abundance of good teachers for my children; and that remedies were shown to me in dreams, for coughing up blood and dizziness, as well as other remedies ...; and that, when I felt drawn to philosophy, I did not fall into the hands of any sophist. I did not waste my time on writers [of histories], solving syllogisms, or investigating phenomena in the heavens. For all these things require the help of the gods and fortune.
Among the Quadi at the Granua.
