Dost thou not see how many qualities thou art at once able to exhibit, as to which there is no excuse of natural incapacity and unfitness, and yet thou still remainest voluntarily below the mark?  Or art thou compelled, through being defectively furnished by nature, to murmur, and to be mean, and to flatter, and to find fault with thy poor body, and to try to please men, and to make great display, and to be so restless in thy mind?  No, indeed; but thou mightest have been delivered from these things long ago.  Only, if in truth thou canst be charged with being rather slow and dull of comprehension, thou must exert thyself about this also, not neglecting nor yet taking pleasure in thy dulness.” [227]

The same sweetness enables him to fix his mind, when he sees the isolation and moral death caused by sin, not on the cheerless thought of the misery of this condition, but on the inspiriting thought that man is blest with the power to escape from it:—­

“Suppose that thou hast detached thyself from the natural unity,—­for thou wast made by nature a part, but thou hast cut thyself off,—­yet here is this beautiful provision, that it is in thy power again to unite thyself.  God has allowed this to no other part,—­after it has been separated and cut asunder, to come together again.  But consider the goodness with which he has privileged man; for he has put it in his power, when he has been separated, to return and to be united and to resume his place."[228]

It enables him to control even the passion for retreat and solitude, so strong in a soul like his, to which the world could offer no abiding city:—­

“Men seek retreat for themselves, houses in the country, seashores, and mountains; and thou, too, art wont to desire such things very much.  But this is altogether a mark of the most common sort of men, for it is in thy power whenever thou shalt choose to retire into thyself.  For nowhere either with more quiet or more freedom from trouble does a man retire than into his own soul, particularly when he has within him such thoughts that by looking into them he is immediately in perfect tranquillity.  Constantly, then, give to thyself this retreat, and renew thyself; and let thy principles be brief and fundamental, which as soon as thou shalt recur to them, will be sufficient to cleanse the soul completely, and to send thee back free from all discontent with the things to which thou returnest."[229]

Against this feeling of discontent and weariness, so natural to the great for whom there seems nothing left to desire or to strive after, but so enfeebling to them, so deteriorating, Marcus Aurelius never ceased to struggle.  With resolute thankfulness he kept in remembrance the blessings of his lot; the true blessings of it, not the false:—­