All through life it was his lot to consort with persons having sadly different views from his own on the meaning of existence, the value of virtue; yet he was kind and sociable with all. In this he did but follow the example of the gods: “They are not vexed because, during so long a time, they must tolerate men, such as they are, and so many of them bad; and besides this they also take care of them in all ways. But thou, who art destined to end so soon, art thou wearied of enduring the bad, and this, too, when thou art one of them?” This tolerance towards the failings of others had its source in his peculiar gospel of resignation:--or should we say, fatalism? “That is good for each thing which the universal nature brings to each. And it is for its good at the time when nature brings it. ‘The earth loves the shower,’ and ‘the solemn æther loves,’ and the Universe loves to make whatever is about to be. I say then to the Universe: ‘I love as thou lovest.’” In this spirit he bore the trials of his domestic, as of his public, life; keen griefs coming from without and from within; and the keenest of all for one of his affectionate nature were those of his own household. Apollonius had taught him “to be always the same in sharp pains, and on the occasion of the loss of a child and in long illness.” He learnt the theory of indifference to natural affection; but, fortunately, never the practice. The severe light of Stoicism was softened and suffused in passing through the medium of his gentle nature; he trusted the reasons of the heart, more than those of the pure intellect. If Stoic cosmopolitanism would have him care for men in inverse proportion to their nearness to him, he must depart from type in this. To his wife Faustina, to his children, to his tutor Fronto and to Fronto’s children, especially “little Gratia,” he was genuinely devoted.