ENGLISH COMMENTARY
this kind of reflection first in the rather childish collections of stories upon the wisdom of creatures by Aelian (a.d. 170–235), though it may already be detected in the first century in Plutarch's essay, That brutes employ reason.
The Stoics, generally, regarded animals, including the social insects, as moved by 'soul' in distinction from man's prerogative of 'reason'. Thus Marcus' usual point of view is that animals exhibit the economy of Nature, are evidence of Divine providence, have instinct, as we say, not conscious intelligence. So when he returns to this subject (viii. 12) he is content to say that we share sleep with animals, the part of life where reason is in abeyance.
There is thus a certain originality in this chapter, and still more in the charming reinforcement of the innocent lesson in ch. 6 with its stress upon animals labouring unselfishly for man, the sic vos non vobis suggestion.
The chapter closes with a high appeal to disinterestedness in moral life by the example of the artisan's selfless devotion to his craft. This argument had been used by Plato in The Republic to enforce public morality by the example of the single-mindedness of the true artist.[1] Aristotle has a different lesson, he points to the pleasure of the craftsman as increasing his energy.[2] Marcus uses the analogy to illustrate the ardour, as well as the unselfishness, which should go to social duties. Sometimes he calls this single-mindedness true self-interest (vi. 35). He puts it well, but somewhat differently, in vii. 13 and ix. 42. It is independent of men's praise (iv. 20), it is an intrinsic characteristic, like a jewel's beauty or a lovely colour (vii. 15).
Ch. 2. Earnest absorption in a pursuit at the expense of food and sleep leads to the subject of what normally hinders moral progress. This is imagination, troublesome or inappropriate. Epictetus[3] says that neither wealth nor health nor glory is in man's control, but only the right treatment of imagination, and Marcus dwells often, like his predecessor, on the psychology and pathology of imagination. An image forces an entrance into the mind, it calls up a further image, and, if this be entertained, impulse is excited and is followed by act. Again the mind is coloured by its imaginations, the dye sinks in by repetition (ch. 16).
