Book I

1. From my grandfather Verus: goodness of heart, and freedom from anger.

2. From the reputation and remembrance of my father: modesty, and manliness.

3. From my mother: reverence for the divine, generosity, and abstention—not only from doing wrong, but even from entertaining the thought of it; and, further, simplicity in my way of life, far removed from the habits of the rich.

4. From my great-grandfather: not to attend the public schools, but to employ good teachers at home; and to understand that on such things one must spend unstintingly.

5. From my tutor: not to become a partisan of Green or Blue, of Palm or Shield; to endure hardship and need little; to work with my own hands and mind my own affairs; and to be slow to admit slander.

6. From Diognetus: freedom from vain pursuits; distrust of what wonder-workers and sorcerers say about incantations, the expulsion of spirits, and such things; not to breed quails for fighting or be carried away by pursuits of that kind; to tolerate frank speech; to make philosophy my own; to hear first Baccheius, then Tandasis and Marcianus; to write dialogues as a boy; and to desire a camp bed and a hide, and all else belonging to the Greek discipline.

7. From Rusticus: to grasp that my character needed correction and care; not to stray into sophistic ambition, nor write treatises on doctrines, nor deliver little exhortatory discourses, nor make a show of myself as an ascetic or benefactor in order to impress; to withdraw from rhetoric, poetry, and verbal display; not to parade about the house in formal dress or indulge in things of that kind; to write letters simply, like the very letter he wrote from Sinuessa to my mother; to be ready to recall and reconcile with those who have grown angry and done wrong, as soon as they themselves are willing to return; to read with precision, not content with a broad impression, and not hastily assent to those who talk around a subject; and to encounter the notes of Epictetus, which he shared with me from his own collection.

8. From Apollonius: freedom and an unwavering refusal to leave anything to chance; to look to nothing else, not even for a moment, but reason; to remain always the same—in acute pain, in the loss of a child, in long illnesses; and to see clearly in a living example that the same person can be at once most ardent and relaxed; not to grow impatient when explaining; to see a man who plainly regarded his experience and facility in communicating doctrines as the least of his gifts; and to learn how one should receive what are taken for favors from friends—neither surrendering oneself on their account nor passing them by without feeling.

9. From Sextus: benevolence; the example of a household governed as a father’s house; the conception of living according to nature; dignity without affectation; attentive care for friends; tolerance of ordinary people and of those who form opinions without reflection; an ease with everyone that made his company more pleasing than any flattery, while at that very time he inspired the deepest respect in those present; the ability, with sure comprehension and method, to discover and arrange the principles necessary for life; never to give even the appearance of anger or any other passion, but to be at once utterly free of passion and full of natural affection; to speak well of others without noise, and to possess great learning without display.

10. From Alexander the grammarian: to refrain from fault-finding, and not reproachfully to pounce on those who uttered a barbarism, a solecism, or some discordant expression, but tactfully to introduce only the very wording that should have been used—in the form of a reply, or a confirming addition, or a joint discussion of the matter itself rather than the word, or by some other graceful reminder of the same kind.

11. From Fronto: to recognize the envy, duplicity, and hypocrisy that belong to tyranny; and that, in general, those whom we call our patricians are somehow deficient in natural affection.

12. From Alexander the Platonist: not often, and never without necessity, to say to someone or write in a letter, “I am busy”; nor continually to use such a pretext to evade the duties arising from our relations with those who share our life, pleading the pressure of circumstances.

13. From Catulus: not to treat lightly a friend’s accusation, even if he happens to accuse without reason, but to try to restore the accustomed bond; to praise one’s teachers wholeheartedly, as is recorded of Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love one’s children truly.

14. From Severus: love of family, love of truth, and love of justice; through him, to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dio, and Brutus; and to conceive a polity of equal law, governed by equality and equal freedom of speech, and a kingship honoring above all the liberty of the governed. From him also: steadiness and vigor in the esteem of philosophy; beneficence, unstinting generosity, and good hope; confidence that one is loved by one’s friends; openness with those who met with his disapproval; and that his friends never had to guess what he wanted or did not want—it was plain.

15. From Maximus: mastery of himself, and never to be swept away by anything; good cheer in every circumstance, including illness; a character well balanced, gentle, and venerable; the uncomplaining accomplishment of what lay before him; that everyone trusted that he thought as he spoke and acted without ill intent; never to wonder or be stunned, never to hurry or hesitate, never to be at a loss or downcast or grimly smiling, nor, in turn, angry or suspicious; beneficence, forgiveness, and truthfulness; to give the impression of a man naturally straight rather than one straightened out; and that no one could ever have thought himself looked down on by him, nor ventured to think himself better than he; graciousness in …

16. From my father: gentleness, and an unshaken constancy in decisions reached after careful examination; freedom from vanity about what passes for honor; love of work and perseverance; a readiness to hear those who had something to contribute to the common good; an undeviating care to allot each person what accorded with his worth; the experience to know where effort was needed and where relaxation; putting an end to his passions for boys; his fellow-feeling, and his allowing his friends neither to dine with him on every occasion nor necessarily to accompany him on his journeys, while those who had stayed behind because some duty required it always found him unchanged; his searching exactness and persistence in deliberation—not abandoning an inquiry too soon, content with the impressions nearest at hand; his gift for keeping his friends, being neither quick to tire of them nor infatuated with them; his self-sufficiency in everything, and his brightness of spirit; his foresight from far off, and his quiet ordering in advance of even the smallest details; the way acclamations and every form of flattery were checked in his presence; his constant watch over the necessities of government, his economy in public expenditure, and his endurance of the blame such conduct brought; toward the gods, no superstition, and toward human beings, no courting the crowd, currying favor, or pandering to the mob, but sobriety in all things and steadfastness, with no lapse into bad taste and no appetite for novelty; his use, without pretension and without apology, of the things that make life easier and that fortune had supplied in abundance, so that when they were present he took them naturally, and when they were absent he felt no need of them; the fact that no one could have called him a sophist, a household wit, or a pedant, but rather a mature man, complete, beyond flattery, capable of presiding over his own affairs and those of others.

Besides these: his respect for those who practiced philosophy in truth, while neither reproaching the rest nor being easily led by them; his ease in company and his graciousness, never cloying; his measured care for his own body, neither as one enamored of life, nor for adornment, nor yet neglectfully, but so that through his own attentiveness he had very little need of medicine, drugs, or external applications; above all, his ungrudging deference to those who possessed some particular power—eloquence, for example, or knowledge of laws, customs, or other matters drawn from history—and his eagerness to help them, so that each might win distinction according to his own excellence; his doing everything in accordance with ancestral ways, without even cultivating the appearance of preserving ancestral ways; furthermore, his not being easily shifted or tossed from one thing to another, but lingering over the same places and the same tasks; and after the attacks of headache, his returning at once fresh and vigorous to his accustomed work; his having not many secrets, but very few and very rare ones, and those only for the public good; his prudence and measure in presenting spectacles, undertaking public works, making distributions, and the like—the conduct of a man whose eye was fixed upon what needed to be done itself, not upon the good repute to be won from its doing.

He did not bathe at untimely hours; he had no passion for building; he did not invent refinements in food, or in the weave and color of clothes, or in the beauty of bodies. His dress at Lorium, when he came up from the lower country house; and most of what he did at Lanuvium; how he treated the tax collector at Tusculum when the man appealed to him—and his whole manner was of this kind. Nothing harsh, nothing implacable, nothing violent, nothing that could ever make one say, “to the point of sweating”; rather, everything individually distinguished and reasoned out as if at leisure—untroubled, ordered, strong, and in harmony with itself.

What is remembered of Socrates would fit him: he was able both to abstain from and to enjoy those things from which many are too weak to abstain and to whose enjoyment they too readily yield. But to remain strong, to endure, and to keep one’s sobriety in either case belongs to a man with a sound and unconquerable soul—as Maximus showed in his illness.

17. From the gods: to have good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good teachers, good members of the household, kinsmen, friends—almost everyone around me, good; and that I did not rush into doing wrong to any of them, although I had a disposition from which, had the occasion arisen, I might indeed have done some such thing. But it was the gods’ kindness that no conjunction of circumstances occurred which would have exposed me.

That I was not brought up any longer in my grandfather’s concubine’s household; that I preserved the bloom of youth, did not become a man before my time, but even let the time extend beyond it.

That I was placed under a ruler and father who was to strip away all my conceit and bring me to understand that it is possible to live at court without requiring bodyguards, distinctive robes, torches, statues, and displays of that kind, or any similar pomp; that one may draw one’s life very close to that of a private citizen and yet be no less dignified or energetic in dealing, as a ruler, with what must be done for the common good.

That I was blessed with such a brother—one able by his character to awaken me to the care of myself, while at the same time delighting me with his respect and affection.

That my children were not born without natural ability or deformed in body.

That I made no greater progress in rhetoric, poetry, and the other pursuits in which I might perhaps have become absorbed, had I felt myself advancing smoothly in them.

That I acted in time to establish those who had brought me up in the rank I thought they desired, and did not put them off with the hope that, since they were still young, I would do it later.

That I came to know Apollonius, Rusticus, and Maximus.

That the nature of a life according to Nature was vividly and repeatedly presented to me, so that—as far as the gods and the gifts, assistance, and inspirations proceeding from them are concerned—nothing now prevents me from living according to Nature; and if I still fall short of it at all, the fault is my own, because I do not keep watch over the gods’ reminders and all but direct teachings.

That my body has held out so long under such a life.

That I touched neither Benedicta nor Theodotus; and that later, too, when I fell into erotic passions, I recovered my health.

That, though I was often angry with Rusticus, I did nothing further for which I would have repented.

That my mother, though destined to die young, nevertheless lived her final years with me.

That whenever I wished to assist someone in poverty or in need of anything else, I never had to hear that I lacked the money from which it could be done; and that no similar need ever befell me myself, requiring me to receive help from another.

That my wife is as she is: so compliant, so affectionate, so unpretending.

That I had an ample supply of suitable tutors for my children.

That remedies were granted through dreams—among others, remedies against spitting blood and against vertigo—and the message at Caieta: “As you shall use...”

That when I longed for philosophy, I did not fall into the hands of some sophist, nor settle down to writing treatises, dissecting syllogisms, or occupying myself with celestial phenomena.

For all these things require “the gods’ help and fortune.”

1. From my grandfather Verus I learned to be good-natured and not to lose my temper.

2. From what I heard and remembered about my father I learned modesty and courage.

3. From my mother I learned devotion to the gods, generosity, and restraint—not just from doing harm, but even from letting such a thought enter my mind. I also learned to live simply, far from the lifestyle of the rich.

4. From my great-grandfather I learned not to go to public schools, but to have good teachers at home, and to recognize that this was something worth spending freely on.

5. From my tutor I learned not to support the Greens or the Blues, or the Palm or Shield factions; to put up with hard work and need little; to do things for myself and not meddle in other people’s business; and not to be quick to believe accusations.

6. From Diognetus I learned not to waste my time on empty interests; not to believe what miracle-workers and magicians say about spells, driving out spirits, and things like that; not to train fighting quails or get excited about such pastimes; to accept honest, open speech; to become familiar with philosophy; to study first with Baccheius, then with Tandasis and Marcianus; to write dialogues when I was a boy; and to want a simple cot, an animal skin, and the other things associated with Greek training.

7. From Rusticus I learned to recognize that my character needed correction and treatment; not to be drawn into showing off as a sophist, writing about theories, giving little moral lectures, or posing impressively as a disciplined or charitable man; to give up rhetoric, poetry, and clever turns of phrase; not to walk around the house in formal clothes or do similar things; to write letters in a simple style, like the letter he wrote from Sinuessa to my mother; to be quick to call back and make peace with people who had become angry or behaved badly, as soon as they were willing to come back; to read carefully, not settle for a general understanding, and not agree too quickly with people who talk at length about a subject; and to read the notes of Epictetus, which he lent me from his own library.

8. From Apollonius I learned to be independent, to leave nothing uncertain to chance, and never, even briefly, to look to anything except reason; to stay the same through severe pain, the loss of a child, and long illness; to see in a living person that someone can be both intensely committed and at ease; not to become impatient when explaining something; to see a man who clearly considered his experience and skill in teaching principles the least of his good qualities; and to learn how to accept apparent favors from friends without becoming beholden to them or rejecting them insensitively.

9. From Sextus I learned kindness; the example of a household guided by a father; the idea of living according to nature; dignity without posing; thoughtful concern for friends; patience with uninformed people and with those who hold views without thinking them through; the ability to get along with everyone, so that his company was more pleasant than any flattery, while the people with him also respected him deeply; the skill to identify and organize, clearly and methodically, the principles needed for life; never to show even a trace of anger or any other strong emotion, but to be both completely untroubled by passion and deeply affectionate; to praise others quietly, and to be very learned without showing it off.

10. From Alexander the grammarian I learned not to criticize people or rebuke them when they used a foreign expression, made a grammatical mistake, or said something badly. Instead, I would tactfully use the right expression myself—in a reply, in agreement, in a discussion of the subject rather than the wording, or through some other appropriate kind of indirect reminder.

11. From Fronto I learned what envy, deceit, and hypocrisy are found in tyrants, and that, for the most part, the people we call patricians are rather lacking in affection.

12. From Alexander the Platonist I learned not to keep telling people, in person or by letter, “I’m busy,” unless it was really necessary, and not to use current demands as a constant excuse for avoiding the duties I owe to those who share my life.

13. From Catulus I learned not to dismiss a friend’s complaint, even when it was unreasonable, but to try to restore the relationship to what it had been; to praise my teachers warmly, as he is remembered for praising Domitius and Athenodotus; and to love my children sincerely.

14. From Severus I learned love of family, truth, and justice. Through him I came to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dio, and Brutus, and formed the idea of a state with equal laws, governed through equality and equal freedom to speak, and of a monarchy that respects the freedom of its subjects above all else. I also learned from him to be steady and committed in valuing philosophy; to do good, give freely and generously, and remain hopeful; to trust that my friends loved me; to be open with people whose conduct I condemned; and to make what I wanted and did not want so clear that my friends never had to guess.

15. From Maximus I learned self-control and not to be carried away by anything; to stay cheerful in all circumstances, including illness; to have a balanced, gentle, and dignified character; to complete the work before me without complaining; to make everyone trust that I meant what I said and had no bad purpose in what I did; not to be amazed or shocked, never rushed or hesitant, never helpless, gloomy, or scowling, and never angry or suspicious; to be helpful, forgiving, and truthful; to seem naturally upright rather than corrected; to ensure that no one would think I looked down on him, or presume to consider himself better than me; and to be gracious in …

16. From my father I learned to be gentle and to hold firmly to decisions made after careful thought; not to be vain about supposed honors; to work hard and steadily; to listen to people who had something useful to offer the community; to give each person exactly what he deserved; to know from experience when to press hard and when to ease off; to put an end to sexual affairs with young men; to have a sense of fellowship, and to let his friends choose not to dine with him every time or travel with him whenever he went away, while always treating in the same way those who had stayed behind to meet some obligation; to investigate matters in council carefully and persistently, rather than stop the inquiry too soon and settle for the first impressions available; to keep his friends and never become quickly tired of them or excessively attached to them; to be self-reliant in every situation and cheerful; to plan well ahead and arrange even the smallest matters beforehand without making a drama of it; to suppress public cheering and every kind of flattery in his presence; always to protect what the government needed, spend its funds carefully, and bear the criticism this sometimes caused; not to be superstitious about the gods, nor to win people over by courting popularity, pleasing them, or catering to the crowd, but to stay clear-headed and firm in everything, never showing poor taste or chasing novelty; to use without conceit or excuses the comforts of life that fortune had provided generously, so that he enjoyed them simply when they were there and did not miss them when they were gone; and to be someone no one could describe as a sophist, a homegrown clever talker, or a pedant, but as a mature and complete man, immune to flattery and able to manage both his own affairs and those of others.

He also respected people who genuinely practiced philosophy. He did not criticize the others, but neither was he easily influenced by them. He was pleasant company and gracious, but never excessively so. He took reasonable care of his body, not because he clung to life, wanted to beautify himself, or was careless of it, but so attentively that he very rarely needed doctors, medicines, or treatments applied to the body. Most of all, he willingly gave way, without jealousy, to people with some special ability, such as skill in speaking or knowledge of laws, customs, or other subjects from history; and he worked with them to help each gain recognition for his own particular strengths. He did everything according to ancestral custom without trying to make a show even of preserving ancestral custom. He was not easily moved or constantly changing direction, but stayed with the same places and the same work. After severe headaches, he returned immediately to his usual duties fresh and vigorous. He had very few secrets, and only rarely, and those concerned public affairs alone. He showed good judgment and restraint in putting on public shows, constructing public works, making distributions, and similar matters, like a man focused on what actually needed to be done rather than on the praise he would receive for doing it.

He did not bathe at odd hours. He was not obsessed with building, with devising new dishes, with the weave and color of clothing, or with physical beauty. The clothes he wore at Lorium when he came up from the lower country house; much of his behavior at Lanuvium; the way he treated the tax collector at Tusculum when the man appealed to him—his conduct was consistently like this. There was nothing harsh, merciless, or aggressive in him, nothing that could make anyone say, “he worked himself into a sweat.” Instead, he considered and reasoned through each thing separately, as if he had all the time he needed, calmly, methodically, firmly, and consistently.

What is said about Socrates would apply to him: he could both go without and enjoy things that many people are too weak to do without and too ready to surrender themselves to enjoying. To be strong, endure, and remain clear-headed in either situation is the mark of a man whose soul is balanced and invincible, as Maximus was during his illness.

17. From the gods I received good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good teachers, good members of the household, relatives, and friends—almost everyone around me was good. I also never went so far as to do anything wrong to any of them, though I had the kind of disposition from which I might have done so if the opportunity had come. It was the gods’ kindness that no combination of circumstances arose that would have exposed me.

I was not brought up for too long in the home of my grandfather’s concubine. I preserved my youth, did not become sexually mature before the proper time, and even remained that way beyond the usual time.

I was put under the authority of a ruler and father who was going to remove all my vanity and make me understand that a person can live at court without needing bodyguards, special clothing, torches, statues, or any such display and pomp. It is possible to keep one’s way of life very close to that of a private citizen without becoming any less dignified or less energetic in carrying out, as a ruler, the duties required for the common good.

I had the good fortune to have a brother whose character could rouse me to take care of my own character, and who also made me happy by his respect and affection.

My children were not born unintelligent or physically deformed.

I did not advance further in rhetoric, poetry, and other pursuits in which I might perhaps have become absorbed if I had felt that I was making good progress.

I made sure, while there was still time, to give those who had raised me the rank I thought they wanted. I did not postpone it on the assumption that, because they were still young, I could do it later.

I came to know Apollonius, Rusticus, and Maximus.

I was given a clear and repeated picture of what a life according to Nature is like. So, as far as the gods and the gifts, help, and inspiration that come from them are concerned, nothing now prevents me from living according to Nature. If I still fall short, it is my own fault, because I fail to keep the gods’ reminders and what are almost their direct lessons continually in mind.

My body has endured for so long under this kind of life.

I had sexual relations with neither Benedicta nor Theodotus. Later, when I did fall into sexual passions, I recovered from them.

Although I was often angry with Rusticus, I never went on to do anything I would later have regretted.

Although my mother was destined to die young, she still spent the last years of her life with me.

Whenever I wanted to help someone who was poor or needed something else, I was never told that I did not have the money to do it. And I myself never fell into a similar need that required me to accept help from someone else.

My wife is as she is: so cooperative, so affectionate, and so straightforward.

I had plenty of suitable tutors for my children.

Help was given to me through dreams, including remedies to keep me from spitting blood and from suffering vertigo, as well as the message at Caieta: “As you shall use...”

When I wanted to study philosophy, I did not fall in with a sophist or settle down to writing treatises, analyzing syllogisms, or studying heavenly phenomena.

For all these things require “the help of the gods and fortune.”

1. From my Grandfather Verus, a kindly disposition and sweetness of temper.

2. From what I heard of my Father and my memory of him, modesty and manliness.

3. From my Mother, the fear of God, and generosity; and abstention not only from doing ill but even from the very thought of doing it; and furthermore to live the simple life, far removed from the habits of the rich.

4. From my Grandfather's Father, to dispense with attendance at public schools, and to enjoy good teachers at home, and to recognize that on such things money should be eagerly spent.

5. From my Tutor, not to side with the Green Jacket or the Blue at the races, or to back the Light-Shield Champion or the Heavy-Shield in the lists; not to shirk toil, and to have few wants, and to do my own work, and mind my own concerns; and to turn a deaf ear to slander.

6. From Diognetus, not to be taken up with trifles; and not to give credence to the statements of miracle-mongers and wizards about incantations and the exorcizing of demons, and such-like marvels; and not to keep quails, nor to be excited about such things: not to resent plain speaking; and to become familiar with philosophy and be a heaver first of Baccheius, then of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to write dialogues as a boy; and to set my heart on a pallet-bed and a pelt and whatever else tallied with the Greek regimen.

7. From Rusticus, to become aware of the fact that I needed amendment and training for my character; and not to be led aside into an argumentative sophistry; nor compose treatises on speculative subjects, or deliver little homilies, or pose ostentatiously as the moral athlete or unselfish man; and to eschew rhetoric, poetry, and fine language; and not to go about the house in my robes, nor commit any such breach of good taste; and to write letters without affectation, like his own letter written to my mother from Sinuessa; to shew oneself ready to be reconciled to those who have lost their temper and trespassed against one, and ready to meet them halfway as soon as ever they seem to be willing to retrace their steps; to read with minute care and not to be content with a superficial bird's-eye view; nor to be too quick in agreeing with every voluble talker; and to make the acquaintance of the Memoirs of Epictetus, which he supplied me with out of his own library.

8. From Apollonius, self-reliance and an unequivocal determination not to leave anything to chance; and to look to nothing else even for a moment save Reason alone; and to remain ever the same, in the throes of pain, on the loss of a child, during a lingering illness; and to see plainly from a living example that one and the same man can be very vehement and yet gentle: not to be impatient in instructing others; and to see in him a man who obviously counted as the least among his gifts his practical experience and facility in imparting philosophic truths; and to learn in accepting seeming favours from friends not to give up our independence for such things nor take them callously as a matter of course.

9. From Sextus, kindliness, and the example of a household patriarchally governed; and the conception of life in accordance with Nature; and dignity without affectation; and an intuitive consideration for friends; and a toleration of the unlearned and the unreasoning.

10. From Alexander the Grammarian, not to be captious; nor in a carping spirit find fault with those who import into their conversation any expression which is barbarous or ungrammatical or mispronounced, but tactfully to bring in the very expression, that ought to have been used, by way of answer, or as it were in joint support of the assertion, or as a joint consideration of the thing itself and not of the language, or by some such graceful reminder.

11. From Fronto, to note the envy, the subtlety, and the dissimulation which are habitual to a tyrant; and that, as a general rule, those amongst us who rank as patricians are somewhat wanting in natural affection.

12. From Alexander the Platonist, not to say to anyone often or without necessity, nor write in a letter, I am too busy, nor in this fashion constantly plead urgent affairs as an excuse for evading the obligations entailed upon us by our relations towards those around us.

13. From Catulus, not to disregard a friend's expostulation even when it is unreasonable, but to try to bring him back to his usual friendliness; and to speak with whole-hearted good-will of one's teachers, as it is recorded that Domitius did of Athenodotus; and to be genuinely fond of one's children.

14. From my 'brother' Severus, love of family, love of truth, love of justice, and (thanks to him!) to know Thrasea, Helvidius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and the conception of a state with one law for all, based upon individual equality and freedom of speech, and of a sovranty which prizes above all things the liberty of the subject; and furthermore from him also to set a well-balanced and unvarying value on philosophy; and readiness to do others a kindness, and eager generosity, and optimism, and confidence in the love of friends; and perfect openness in the case of those that came in for his censure; and the absence of any need for his friends to surmise what he did or did not wish, so plain was it.

15. From Maximus, self-mastery and stability of purpose; and cheeriness in sickness as well as in all other circumstances; and a character justly proportioned of sweetness and gravity; and to perform without grumbling the task that lies to one's hand.

16. From my Father, mildness, and an unshakable adherence to decisions deliberately come to; and no empty vanity in respect to so-called honours; and a love of work and thoroughness; and a readiness to hear any suggestions for the common good; and an inflexible determination to give every man his due; and to know by experience when is the time to insist and when to desist; and to suppress all passion for boys.

17. From the Gods, to have good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, good teachers, good companions, kinsmen, friends—nearly all of them; and that I fell into no trespass against any of them, and yet I had a disposition that way inclined, such as might have led me into something of the sort, had it so chanced; but by the grace of God there was no such coincidence of circumstances as was likely to put me to the test.