# Plutarch's Moralia (Holland)/Essay 7

OF THE TRANQUILLITY AND CONTENTMENT OF MIND
THE SUMMARY
[In this treatise a man may see the excellent discourses and most sound arguments of moral philosophy; the scope whereof is to make the scholars and students therein resolute, and to keep them from wavering and tottering to and fro; notwithstanding that either the sky were ready to fall upon their heads, or the earth to chink and open under their feet. True it is, that in this place Plutarch sheweth sufficiently what blindness there is in human wisdom, when the question is to pronounce and speak precisely, Wherein consisteth true repose and assured felicity? For to teach a man whom he calleth virtuous, to search for contentment and quiet rest in his own reason, were as much as to fetch light out of darkness and life out of death itself. And therefore (for this time) needless it is to treat long upon this point, considering that we mind not to dispute or declare how insufficient human learning and philosophy is, in comparison of true divinity and theology. For the present this may suffice, that seeing he was no better than a pagan who hath disputed of this theme, let us receive both this discourse and other such, wherein he endeavoureth to withdraw us from vice, and bring us unto virtue, as written and penned by a man, guided and conducted by a dim and dark light: in which notwithstanding appear certain sparks of the truth, which as they are not able to shew the way sufficiently, so they give them to understand, who be far remote from the true light, how miserable and wretched they are every way. Proved he had before, that flattery, choler, and curiosity are vices that overturn the soul upside down, and transport it so far off that it is not at home, nor mistress of herself: and after he had taught how a man might reclaim and reduce her again to her own house, lie treateth now of those means whereby she may be kept quiet, peaceable, joyous and contented within. For the effecting hereof, it the very entry of this treatise, he proposeth one expedient mean to attain thereto, requiring that a man should fortify and defend his mind with reasons against the evils and dangers to come: then he confuteth the Epicureans, who for to set a man in peace, would make him blockish, senseless, and good for nothing: he answereth likewise to those who are of opinion that a man may find a certain and of vacation and impassibility without all trouble and molestation: which done, he sheweth that reason well ruled and ordered as the foundation and ground of our tranquillity: and all in one and the same train, he teacheth how a man may be furnished and assisted with this reason. Having thus sufficiently in general terms discoursed of these premises, he doth particularise and decipher ​the same point by point, giving fifteen several counsels, whereby a man may attain to this contentment and repose of spirit; the which we have distinguished particularly, and shewed in each one the substance of them, which I thought not good to insert in this place, because the summary should not exceed overmuch. Furthermore, the said counsels be enriched with notable examples, similitudes and sentences; which (no doubt) would have been much more forcible and effectual, if the principal indeed had been joined therewith, to wit, true piety and religion: which hath been clean omitted by the author, who indeed never knew what was the only true and perfect tranquillity of the soul. Howbeit, wonderful it is, how he should proceed so far as he doth, having no other help and means but his own self: which may so much the better serve our turns, considering that we have aids and guides far more excellent to bring us so far, as to make entry, and take assured possession of that sovereign good and felicity, whereof he here speaketh.]
Plutarch to Paccius sendeth greeting,—Overlate it was before I received your letter, wherein you requested me to write somewhat as touching the tranquillity of the soul, and withal of certain places in Plato's dialogue Timæus, which seem to require more exact exposition: but so it happened, that at the very same time, your friend and mine, Eros, had occasion to sail with speed to Rome, upon the receipt of certain letters from that right worshipful gentleman Fundanus, by virtue whereof he was to depart suddenly and to repair unto him with all expedition. By which occasion having not sufficient time and leisure to perform your request in such manner as I purposed, and yet unwilling that the man coming from me should be seen of you empty-handed; I have collected certain notes, chosen out of those commentaries which for mine own memory and private use I had compiled long before, concerning this argument, to wit, The Tranquillity and Contentment of Spirit: supposing that you also demand this present discourse, not for any pleasure that you take to read a treatise penned curiously, and affecting or hunting after fine phrases and exquisite words; but only in regard of some doctrine that may serve your turn and help you to the framing of your life as you ought; knowing withal full well (for the which I do congratulate and rejoice heartily on your behalf) that notwithstanding your inward acquaintance, friendship and favour with the best and principal persons of the city, and that for eloquence you come behind none that plead causes at the bar in open court, but are reputed a singular orator, yet for all that, you do not as that tragical Merops, suffer yourself foolishly and beyond the course of nature to be carried away as he was with the vainglory and applause of the ​Multitude, when they do admire and account you happy therefore; but still you keep in memory that which oftentime you have heard from us; That it is neither a rich patrician's shoe that cureth the gout in the feet; nor a costly and precious ring that healeth the whitflaw or felon in the fingers; nor yet a princely diadem that easeth the headache. For what use is there at all of goods and riches to deliver the soul from grief and sorrow, or to lead a life in rest and repose, without cares and troubles? What good is there of great honours, promotions, and credit in court? unless they that have them know how to use the same well and honestly; and likewise if they be without them, can skill how to find no miss of them, but be always accompanied with contentment; never coveting that which is not? And what is this else but reason accustomed and exercised beforehand, quickly to restrain and eftsoons to reprehend the passionate and unreasonable part of the soul, which is given oftentimes to break out of her bounds: and not to suffer her to range and vague at her pleasure, and to be transported by the objects presented unto her?
Like as therefore Xenophon giveth us good counsel: Always to remember the gods, and most of all to worship and honour them when we are in prosperity, to the end that whensoever we stand in need, we may more boldly invocate and call upon them, with full assurance that they will supply our necessities, being thus beforehand made propitious and gracious unto us; even so, wise men and such as are of good conceit, ought always to be furnished and well provided of reasons sufficient to serve their turn for to encounter their passions before they arise, to the end that being once laid up in store, they may do most good when time serveth. For as curst and angry mastiffs by nature, which at every noise that they hear keep an eager baying and barking as if they were affrighted, become quiet and appeased by one only voice which is familiar unto them, and wherewith they have been acquainted; so it is no small pain and trouble to still and compose the passions of the mind (skittish as they be and grown wild) unless a man have ready at hand proper and familiar reasons to repress the same so soon as ever they begin to stir and grow out of order.
Now as touching those who affirm that if a man would live in tranquillity and rest, he ought not to meddle nor deal in many affairs, either in public or private: First and foremost thus I say, that they would make us pay dear for tranquillity of mind, when they would have us buy it with idleness and doing ​nothing; which were as much as if they advised each one to do as Electra did to her sick brother Orestes, when she said unto him:
Lie still, poor wretch, and keep thy bed. Stir not from thence, and have no dread.
But surely as this were untoward physic for the body, to prescribe for the allaying of pain a medicine that would benumb and stupefy the senses; so. verily he were no better physician for the soul, who to deliver her from trouble and grief, ordained that she should be made idle, slugglish, soft and tender, which, in one word, is as much as to forget all duty and to betray friends, kinsfolk and country. Moreover, a false position it is: That they enjoy tranquillity of life who intermeddle not in much business: for if that were true, women should live in more repose and quietness of mind than men, forasmuch as they keep home and sit still within doors for the most part, and seldom go abroad: but now, although it cannot be denied but that as the poet Hesiodus saith:
Cold Boreas, a wind that blows
From northern pole full oft. Doth never pierce the tender skin
Of damsel smooth and soft,
yet many heart-griefs, troubles, perturbations, discontentments and cares arising upon jealousy, superstition, pride, ambition, foolish and vain opinions (which are so many as hardly a man is able to number them) find way and entrance even to the secret chambers and cabinets of our fine and dainty dames: And Laertes, who lived apart for the space of twenty years in the country,
With one old woman and no more
Who meat and drink set him before,
far from his native country, his own home, from court and kingdom; yet nevertheless he had always dwelling with him sadness of heart, accompanied with languishing, idleness and heavy silence. And more than that, this non-employment in affairs is that which many times hath cast some men into a dumpish melancholy and heaviness of spirit, like to him of whom Homer thus writeth:
Here sat Achilles, swift of foot, by line descended right From Jupiter, though son he were of Peleus worthy knight,
And stirr'd not from his fleet in road, but in an angry fit
Would neither fight in open field, nor yet in counsel sit:
Thus idle he abode so long until his heart within Consum'd, and nothing wish'd he more than battle to begin.
But here sit I close to my ships, from action more and less
An idle lusk to load the earth, I cannot but confess.
Insomuch as Epicurus himself, that great patron and maintainer of pleasure, would not advise nor thinketh meet that those who by nature are of an ambitious and aspiring mind, or desirous of glory, should take their ease and sit still, but by the guidance and direction of their natural inclination, to manage the weighty affairs of state and govern the commonweal: saying, that men born for action would be more troubled and discontented in mind with doing nothing, namely, when they see how they miss and fail of that which so greatly they desired. Howbeit I must note the absurd folly of the man and his want of judgment, in that he seemeth to call and exhort unto the rule of weal-public not those who are able and sufficient, but such only as cannot away with a private life and sitting still: neither ought we to measure and determine either the tranquillity or trouble of the spirit by the paucity or multitude of affairs, but rather by their honesty or dishonesty: for as we have already said, no less discontentment and trouble groweth to the mind by neglecting and omitting things honest, than by affecting and committing things dishonest. As for those who have determinately set by one special kind of life as void of all grief and trouble, to wit, some making choice to live as husbandmen in tillage of the ground; others to lead a single and unmarried life, and some again have esteemed a king's life to be it: to such Menander answereth prettily in these verses:
I thought one while that rich and moneyed men,
O Phanias, who were not hard bestead
To pay for use in every hundred ten. Do neither groan nor sigh all night in bed:
Nor as they turn and toss from top to toe
Eftsoons, woe is me, alas, what shall I do?
Breathe out from heart full pensive and opprest. But sweetly take repose and sleep in rest.
And coming more nearly unto the point, when he perceived that rich men were as restless and as much disquieted as the poor, he concludeth thus:
But now, I wot, that life and pensive pain
Are near of kin and cousin-germans twain. Who live in wealth, I see, feel grief of heart,
And men in honour, of sorrows have their part No less than those whose want and penury Doth age with them and keep them company.
He that lieth sick is hard to please. He wants advice that should him ease.
For his wife is a trouble unto him; the physician he findeth fault with, and the bed is not to his mind; besides:
A friend comes to visit, he welcomes him nought, And when he departs, unkind he is thought.
But afterwards, as the disease beginneth to break away or decline, and the former temperature of the body to return, health cometh again, which maketh everything pleasant and agreeable; insomuch as he who the day before was ready upon a peevishness of stomach to cast up dainty eggs, fine amydum and marchpain, and the fairest cooked manchet that is, will be content the morrow after, yea, and glad with all his heart to feed savourly and with a good stomach of downright household bread, of some olives or cresses.
Such a contentment and alteration worketh judgment of reason in every kind and course of life. It is reported that King Alexander the Great, hearing Anaxarchus the philosopher discoursing and maintaining this position: That there were worlds innumerable: fell a-weeping: and when his friends and ​familiars about him asked what he ailed. Have I not (quoth he) good cause to weep, that being as there are an infinite number of worlds, I am not yet the lord of one? Whereas Crates, having no more than a wallet at his neck and a poor threadbare cloak upon his back, spent his whole life in mirth and joy, laughing always full merrily as if it had been always a festival holiday. As for Agamemnon, he complained in these words, and thought it an intolerable burden to be a king and commander of so great a people:
Wot well you see Atreus his son. King Agamemnon hight: Whom Jupiter clogs more with care Than any mortal wight.
Contrariwise Diogenes, when he was to be bought and sold among other slaves in open market, scoffed at the crier who made sale; and lying along on the ground, would not so much as rise when he was bidden to stand up, but cavilled with him after a mocking and jesting manner. What (quoth he), and if you sold a fish would you bid it rise up? Likewise Socrates discoursed familiarly with his fellows and followers as touching philosophy, even when he was in prison. Whereas Phaëthon, notwithstanding he was mounted up into heaven, wept for anger and despight that no man would give him the rule and regiment of the chariot-steeds belonging to the sun his father. And as a shoe is wrested and turned according to the fashion of a crooked or splay-foot, but never doth the foot writhe to the form of a shoe; even so it is for all the world with the dispositions of men's minds; they frame their lives and make them like thereto. For it is not use and custom that causeth the best life to be pleasant also unto them that have made choice thereof, as some one haply is of opinion; but wisdom rather and discretion maketh that life which is best to be also sweetest and most pleasant. Since that therefore the source and fountain of all tranquillity and contentment of spirit is in ourselves, let us cleanse and purify the same spring as clean as possibly we can, that all outward and casual occurrences whatsoever may be made familiar and agreeable unto us, knowing once how to use them well.
If things go cross, we ought not, iwis, To fret; for why? such choler will not boot: But he that knows when ought is done amiss, To set all straight, shall 'chieve full well, I wot.
Plato therefore compared our life to a game at tables; wherein ​the player is to wish for the luckiest cast of the dice, but whatsoever his chance is, he must be sure to play it well, and make the best of it: Now of these two points, the former, to wit, a good throw, is not in our power and choice; but the other resteth in us, namely, whatsoever our lot is, to take in good worth and to dispose everything in that place where it may profit most if it fortuned well: and contrariwise, if it fell out cross, where it may do least harm. This (I say) is our part and duty to perform, if we be as wise as we should be. As for brain-sick fools, and such as know not how to carry themselves in this life (like unto those that have crazy and diseased bodies, who neither can abide burning heat nor chilling cold), as in prosperity they spread and set up their sails too high, so in adversity they strike them as low. Troubled they are mightily with both extremities; or to speak more truly, with themselves, as much in the one as the other, and no less in that state which yieldeth those things that we call and repute goods. Theodorus, that infamous philosopher who for his profane opinion was surnamed Atheos, that is to say, the atheist, was wont to say: That he delivered his speeches with the right hand to his auditors and scholars, but they took the same with their left; even so ignorant and untaught persons many times when fortune presenteth herself unto them on the right hand, receive her awkly, turning to the left side undecently, and by that means commit many untoward and lewd parts. But those that be wise do far better: for as thyme yieldeth unto bees the quickest and driest honey, even so they out of the most unfortunate accidents that be, can skill oftentimes to get somewhat which is agreeable and commodious unto themselves.
This is then the first and principal point wherein a man ought to be trained and exercised, upon this must he study and meditate. And like as that fellow, when he flung a stone at a curst bitch, missed her, and chanced to hit his step-mother, saying withal: It makes no matter; for it hath not lighted amiss; even so we may turn all our fortune to our own purpose, and make the best use of it, in case things fall out otherwise than we would or meant. Diogenes his hap was to be banished and driven out of his own country; yet this exile of his proved not ill to him; for by that means and thereupon he began to study and profess philosophy. Zeno, the Cittiæan, had but one frigate or fly-boat left him, and hearing news that both it and all therein was cast away, drowned and perished in the midst of the sea: O Fortune (quoth he), thou hast done well to drive ​us again to put on our poor and simple scholar's habit, and to send us to our gallery and school of philosophy.
What should hinder us, then, but that we may follow the examples of these men. Art thou deprived and put out of some public office or magistracy which thou didst exercise? Go and live in the country; there follow thine own business, and ply thy private affairs. Hast thou made suit and great means to be entertained in the court, and to wind into special favour with some prince and potentate, and after all thy travail suffered repulse? Well, thou shalt live privately at home, without danger, without trouble. Again, Art thou entered into action, and dost thou manage state affairs, wherein thou hast cares enough, and no time to breathe thyself?
The wholesome waters and hot bains Do not so much allay our pains: And if our limbs be dull or sick. Refresh the same and make them quick: As when a man himself doth see Advanc'd to honour and high degree, His glory, care and pain doth ease, No travail then will him displease;
as Pindarus saith very well: Art thou in some disgrace, and cast out of favour with reproach, by reason of some slanderous calumniation or envy? Thou hast a gale of forewind at the poop, which will soon bring thee directly to the Muses and to the academy; that is to say, to follow thy book and study philosophy: for this was Plato's help when he was in disfavour with Denys the Tyrant. And therefore one means this is (of no small importance) to work contentment in a man's mind; namely, to look back unto the state of famous and renowned persons, and to see whether they (haply) have not suffered the like at any time; as for example: Art thou discontented with thy childless estate, for that thy wife hath brought thee no children? Do but mark the kings of Rome, how there was not one of them that left the crown unto his son. Is it poverty that pincheth thee, so as thou art not able to endure it? Tell me which of all the Bœotians wouldest thou chuse to resemble sooner than Epaminondas? or what Roman wouldest thou be like unto rather than Fabricius? But say thy wife hath played false by thee, and made thee wear horns? Didst thou never read that epigram of King Agis at Delphos?
Ὑρᾶσ καὶ τραφερᾶσ βασιλεὺσ Ἄγισ μ' ἀνέθηκεν Agis, of sea and land a crowned king, Gave me sometime a sacred offering.
But on the contrary side, the most part of men are provoked and troubled not only for the vices of their friends, familiars, and kinsfolk, but also of their very enemies. For reproachful taunts, anger, envy, malice and spightful jealousies are the mischiefs and plagues (I must needs say) of such especially that have them; howbeit they molest and vex those also that are witless and without discretion, no otherwise than the hasty and choleric fits of our neighbours, the peevish and froward dispositions of our familiar acquaintance, and some shrewd demeanours of our servants in that they go about: with which methinks you also troubling and disquieting yourself as much as with anything else, like unto those physicians of whom Sophocles thus writeth:
Who bitter choler cleanse and scour With drugs as bitter and as sour,
do unseemly and not iwis for the credit of your person, thus to
​chafe and fret at their passions and imperfections beyond all reason, and shew yourself as passionate as they. For surely the affairs and negotiations wherewith you are put in trust, and which be managed by your direction, are not executed ordinarily by the ministry of such persons whose dealings be plain, simple and direct, as instruments most meet and fit for such a purpose; but for the most part by crooked, rough and crabbed pieces. To reform and amend these enormities, I would not have you think that it is either your work and duty, or an enterprise otherwise easily performed. But if you making use of these, being such by nature as the chirurgeons do of tooth-drawing pincers and those instruments wherewith they do bring the edges of a wound together, will shew yourself mild, moderate, and tractable in every respect, according as the present occasion will give leave; surely you shall not receive so much discontentment and displeasure at the untoward and unhappy dealings of others, as joy in the conscience of your own good disposition, as making this account, that such ministers of yours do but their kind, like as dogs when they bark: But if you feed and cherish this pusillanimity and weakness of yours, you shall be sure to heap up many troubles and follies of other men ere you be aware, which will be ready to fall and run as into some low ground and hollow trench, unto that weakness of yours. For what should I say, that some philosophers reprove the pity and commiseration which we have for them that are in distress and misery, acknowledging that it is a good and charitable deed to help and succour such as be in calamity, but not commending that condolence and fellow-feeling with our neighbours, as if we yielded with them unto fortune? And more than so, the same philosophers will not permit and give us leave, in case we be subject to some vice and ill disposed, for to be seen and known for to grieve and sorrow therefore: but rather to correct and amend what is amiss, without any shew at all of sad cheer and heaviness; which being so, consider then how little reason and small cause we have, nay, how absurd it were, that we should suffer ourselves to be troubled, vexed and angry, in case all those who commerce and converse with us deal not so well and kindly as they should?
But above all things, my good friend Paccius, let us see to this, that our self-love deceive and seduce us not; let us beware (I say) that we do not so much shew an hatred and detestation of wickedness and sin in general; as bewray some private and particular regard of our own, in that we seem so to abhor and ​dread the naughtiness of those that have to do with us. For to be exceeding much moved and beyond all measure affectionate at some time to such and such affairs; to covet (I say) and pursue the same over-hotly, and otherwise than is meet and beseeming; or contrariwise, to loath, despise, and abhor the same, must needs breed discontentments, suspicions, and offences in those persons by whom we seem either to have been prevented and disappointed of some things, or to have run and fallen too soon upon other: But he that is used to carry himself cheerfully and with moderation in his affairs (fall out as they will), and can frame to their events, he will soon learn to negotiate and converse with any man in all dexterity and gentle behaviour.
Well, then, let us set in hand again to discourse of those matters which we have intermitted for a while: for like as in a fever all things that we taste seem at the first bitter and unsavoury; but when we see others take without any shew and signification of dislike the same which we spit out, then we blame no more either meats or drinks, but lay the fault upon our disease; even so, when we perceive that other men have entered upon and gone through the same affairs with great alacrity, and without any pain at all, whereof we complained and made much ado; let us for shame cease to find fault and be offended so much at the things. And therefore if at any time there shall befall unto us some adverse and crooked accident against our wills, it will be very good for the working of our contentment in mind, not to pass over but to regard such things as at other times have happened to our minds and as we could wish them; but to confer them together, and by a good medley of them both to darken and dor the worst with laying the better to. But now, whereas we are wont when our eyes be dazzled and offended with beholding that which is too bright and glittering, to refresh and comfort our sight again with looking upon pleasant colours of flowers and green grass; herein contrariwise we direct our minds and cogitations upon heavy and dolorous objects, and violently force our thoughts to be amused upon the remembrance of calamities and adverse fortunes, plucking them perforce as it were from the consideration of better. And here, in this place, methinks I may very fitly apply that sentence to our present purpose, which was said to a busy and curious person:
Ah, spiteful mind and most envious heart, Why others' faults dost thou so quickly spy With eagle's sight, but in thine own thou art Stark blind or else dost wink with owlet's eye?
And most men verily are of the same nature, who passing by good and desirable things, which be (as a man would say) the pleasant and potable liquors that they have, betake themselves to those that be harsh, bad and unsavoury. But Aristippus was of another humour; for like a wise man and one that knew his own good, he was always disposed to make the best of every occurrence, raising and lifting up himself to that end of the balance which mounted aloft, and not to that which went downward. It fortuned one day that he lost a fair manor or lordship of his own, and when one of his friends above the rest made most semblance to lament with him, and to be angry with fortune in his behalf; Hear you (quoth he), know you not that yourself have but one little farm in the whole world, and that I have yet three houses more left, with good lands lying to them? Yes, marry do I (quoth the other): Why then (quoth Aristippus again), wherefore do not we rather pity your case, and condole with you? For it is mere madness to grieve and sorrow for those things that are lost and gone, and not to rejoice for that which is saved. And like as little children, if a man chance to take from them but one of their gauds, among many other toys that they play withal, throw away the rest for very curst-heart, and then fall a-puling, weeping and crying out aright; semblably, as much folly and childishness it were, if when fortune thwarteth us in one thing, we be so far out of the way and disquieted therewith, that with our plaints and moans we make all her other favours unprofitable unto us. But will some one say. What is it that we have? Nay, What is it that we have not? might he rather say: One man is in honour, another hath a fair ​and goodly house; one hath a wife to his mind, and another a trusty friend.
Antipater of Tarsus, the philosopher, when he drew toward his end and the hour of his death, in recounting and reckoning up all the good and happy days that ever he saw in his lifetime, left not out of this roll so much as the bon-voyage that he had when he sailed from Cilicia to Athens. And yet we must not forget nor omit those blessings and comforts of this life which we enjoy in common with many more, but to make some reckoning and account of them: and namely to joy in this, that we live; that we have our health; that we behold the light of the sun; that we have neither war abroad nor civil sedition and dissension at home; but that the land yieldeth itself arable and to be tilled, and the sea navigable to every one that will, without fear of danger; that it is lawful for us to speak and keep silence at our pleasure; that we have liberty to negotiate and deal in affairs, or to rest and be at our repose. And verily the enjoying of these good things present will breed the greater contentment in our spirit, if we would but imagine within ourselves that they were absent; namely, by calling to mind eftsoons what a miss and desire those persons have of health, who be sick and diseased. How they wish for peace, who are afflicted with wars. How acceptable it is either to a stranger or a mean person and unknown, for to be advanced unto honour, or to be friended in some famous and puissant city. And contrariwise, what a great grief it is to forego these things when a man once hath them. And surely a thing cannot be great or precious when we have lost it, and the same of no valour and account all the while we have and enjoy it: for the not being thereof, addeth no price and worth thereto.
Neither ought we to hold these things right great and excellent, whiles we stand always in fear and trembling to think that we shall be deprived and bereft of them, as if they were some worthy things: and yet all the time that they be sure and safe in our possession, neglect and little regard them as if they were common and of no importance. But we ought to make use of them whiles they be ours, and that with joy, in this respect especially, that the loss of them, if it shall so fall out, we may bear more meekly and with greater patience. Howbeit, most men are of this opinion (as Arcesilaus was wont to say), that they ought to follow diligently with their eye and cogitation the poems, pictures and statues of others, and come close unto them for to behold and peruse exactly each of them; yea, and consider ​every part and point therein from one end to the other: whiles in the meantime they neglect and let alone their own lives and manners; notwithstanding there be many unpleasant sights to be spied and observed therein: looking evermore without, and admiring the advancements, welfare and fortunes of others: much like as adulterers who have an eye after their neighbours' wives, but loath and set naught by their own.
And verily this one point also is of great consequence for the settling of a man's mind in sure repose; namely, to consider principally himself, his own estate and condition; or at leastwise (if he do not so) yet to look back unto those that be his inferiors and under him; and not as the most sort do, who love always to look forward and to compare themselves with their betters and superiors. As, for example, slaves that are bound in prison and lie in irons, repute them happy who are abroad at liberty; such as be abroad and at liberty, think their state blessed who be manumised and made free; being once affranchised, they account themselves to be in very good case if they were citizens; and being citizens they esteem rich men most happy; the rich imagine it a gay matter to be lords and princes; lords and princes have a longing desire to be kings and monarchs; kings and monarchs aspire still higher and would be gods; and yet they rest not so, unless they may have the power to flash lightnings and shoot thunderbolts as well as Jupiter. Thus, whiles they evermore come short of that which is above them and covet still after it, they enjoy no pleasure at all of those things that they have, nor be thankful therefore.
The treasures great I care not for Of Gyges king so rich in gold; Such avarice I do abhor, Nor money will I touch untold. I never long'd with gods above, In their high works for to compare: Grand seignories I do not love, Far from mine eyes all such things are.
A Thracian he was that protested thus. But some other, that were a Chian, a Galatian or a Bithynian (I dare warrant you), not contenting himself with his part of honour, credit and authority in his own country and among his neighbours and fellow-citizens, would be ready to weep and expostulate the matter with tears, if he might not also wear the habit and ornaments of a patrician or senator of Rome. And say it were granted and allowed him to be a noble senator, he would not be quiet until he were a Roman lord prætor: Be he lord prætor, he ​will aspire to a consulship; and when he is created consul, whine he will and cry if he were not nominated and pronounced the former of the twain, but elected in the second place. And I pray you what is all this? What doeth a man herein but gather pretended excuses of ingratitude to fortune, in punishing and chastising himself after this manner? But the man who is wise and of sound judgment, in case some one or two among so infinite thousands of us mortal men
Whom sun from heaven so daily doth behold, Who feed on fruits of earth so manifold,
be either more honoured or richer than himself, will not therefore be cast down straightway, and sit mourning and lamenting for sorrow; but rather in the way as he goeth, and whensoever he Cometh abroad, salute and bless with praise and thanksgiving that good fortune of his and blessed angel that guideth his life, for that his lot is to live far better, more at heart's ease, and in greater reputation than many millions of millions of other men. For true it is, that in the solemn games at Olympia, no champion may chuse his concurrents with whom he is to wrestle or enter into combat for a prize: but in this life, our state standeth so, and our affairs be in that manner composed, that every man hath means to match, yea, and excel many others, and so to bear himself aloft, that he be rather envied than envious; unless haply he be such an one as will presume to deal with Briareus or Hercules for the mastery.
Well, when thou shalt behold some great lord or honourable personage borne aloft in a litter upon men's shoulders, stand not wondering so much at him, but rather cast thine eyes down a little lower, and look upon the poor porters that carry him. Again, when thou shalt repute that great monarch Xerxes a right happy man, for that he made a bridge of ships over the Straits of Hellespont; consider withal those painful slaves, who under the very whip and for fear of scourging, digged through the mountain Athos, and made passage that way for an arm of the sea; as also those miserable wretches who had their ears cropt and their noses cut off, for that the foresaid bridge by a mighty tempest was injointed and broken; and therewith imagine with thyself what those silly souls might think, and how happy they would repute thy life and condition in comparison of their own.
Socrates upon a time when one of his familiar friends seemed to complain and say: What a costly place is this? How dear are things sold in this city? The wine of Chios will cost a ​pound; purple is sold for three, and a pint of honey is held at five drachms: took him by the hand and led him to the meal-hall. Lo (quoth he), you may buy here half a sextare of good meal for an halfpenny. The market (God be thanked) is cheap: from thence he brought him into an oil-cellar, and where they sold olives: Here you shall have (quoth he) a measure called chœnix for two brazen dodkins (a good market, believe me). He took him then with him to the brokers' shops that sold clothes, where a man might buy a suit of apparel for ten drachms. You see (quoth he) that the pennyworths are reasonable, and things be bought and sold good cheap throughout the city; even so we, when we shall hear other men say; Our state is but mean, we are exceeding bare, and our condition is passing base: For why? We cannot come to be consuls, we shall never be rulers and governors of provinces, nor rise to the highest places of authority. We may very well answer in this wise; Nay marry, but our case is right good; we live gallantly, and lead a blessed and happy life: we beg not; we go not from door to door to crave folks' alms; we are no porters; we bear no burdens; neither like parasites and smell-feasts do we get our bread by flattery. But forasmuch as we are for the most part grown to this folly, that we are accustomed to live rather according to others than ourselves, and our nature is so far corrupted with a kind of jealous affectation and envy, that it joyeth not so much in her own proper goods, as grieveth at the welfare of another, I would advise you not only to regard those things that be resplendent, glorious and renowned in those whom you admire and esteem so happy; but also to set open and lift up the veil a little, and to draw (as it were) that glittering curtain of outward shew, appearance and opinion that men have of them which covereth all, and so to look in. Certes, you shall find that they have within them many matters of trouble, many grievances and discontentments.
That noble Pittacus, so famous for his valour and fortitude, and as much renowned also for wisdom and justice, feasted upon a time certain of his friends that were strangers: and his wife coming in at midst of the dinner, being angry at somewhat else, overthrew the table, and there lay all under foot. Now when his guests and friends were wondrously dismayed and abashed hereat, Pittacus made no more ado at the matter, but turning unto them: There is not one of us all (quoth he) but he hath his cross, and one thing or other to exercise his patience: and for mine own part, this is the only thing that checketh my ​felicity: for were it not for this shrew my wife, I were the happiest man in the world: So that of me may these verses be well verified:
This man who while he is in street Or public place is happy thought, No sooner sets in house his feet But woe is him: and not for nought. His wife him rules, and that's a spight, She chides, she fights, from morn to night.
Well, my masters, you have many occasions (I am sure) that vex you: as for myself I grieve at nothing. Many such secret sores there be that put them to anguish and pain who are rich and in high authority, yea, and trouble kings and princes themselves; howsoever the common people see no such matter; and why? their pomp and outward glory covereth and hideth all. For when we read thus in Homer:
O happy king, Sir Agamemnon hight. The son of Atreus, that worthy knight Bom in good hour, and lull'd in fortune's lap. Most puissant, rich, and thrall to no mishap:
this is a rehearsal surely of an outward beatitude only, in regard of his arms, horses and men of war about him: for the voices which are breathed out and uttered of his passions, do falsify that opinion of him, and bear witness of the contrary: as may appear by this testimony of himself in Homer:
Great Jupiter, god Saturn's son, Hath plung'd me deep in woe begone,
Euripides also to the like effect:
Your state, old sir, I happy deem. And his no less I do admire Who led his life, unknown, unseen. From danger far, from vain desire.
By these and such-like meditations, a man may by little and little spend and diminish that quarrelsome and complaining discontentment of the mind against fortune, in debasing and casting down his own condition with the wonderful admiration of his neighbour's state. But there is nothing that doth so much hurt unto our tranquillity of mind as this, when our affection and will to a thing is disproportioned unto our might and power; as if we set up greater sails than our vessel will bear, building our hopes and desires as castles in the air without a sound foundation, and promising ourselves more than reason is; for afterwards ​when by proof we see that we cannot reach thereto, and find that the success is not answerable to our conceit, we grumble by and by against fortune, and we blame our destiny; whereas we should accuse our own folly and rashness. For neither he that would seem to shoot an arrow out of a plough, or ride upon an ox back to hunt the hare, can say that he is unlucky; nor he that goeth about to catch the hart and hind with fisher's drag-nets, or with gins, snares and traps, may justly find fault with his fortune, and give out that some wicked angel doth cross him, or malignant spirit haunt him, if he fail and miss of his purpose: but surely such are to condemn their own foolishness and inconsiderate temerity, in attempting things impossible.
And what might be the cause of such errors and gross oversight? surely our fond and blind self-love. This is it that causeth men to affect ever to be foremost; this moveth them to strive and contend for the highest place; this maketh them opinionative in everything, aiming and reaching at all things unsatiably, and never rest contented. For it sufficeth them not to be both rich and learned; eloquent withal and mighty; good fellows at the table and pleasant companions; minions and favourites of kings and princes; rulers of cities and governors of provinces; unless they may be masters also of the swiftest and hottest hounds for running; the principal horses for service and stomach; quails and cocks of the best game for fight; If they fail in any of these, they be cast down, and their hearts are done. Denys, the elder of that name, not being contented and satisfied in mind that he was the most mighty and puissant tyrant in his time; but because he was not a better poet than Philoxenus; nor able to discourse and dispute so learnedly as Plato; in great choler and indignation he cast the one into a dungeon within the stone quarries, where malefactors, felons and slaves were put to punishment; and confined the other as a caitiff, and sent him away into the isle Ægine. Alexander the Great was not of that disposition, who when Brison, the famous runner, in the race contended with him for the best game in footmanship, and for the nonce, to please the king, seemed to faint and lag behind, and so to yield the honour of the course unto him; being advertised thereof, was mightily offended and displeased with him for it. Very wisely, therefore, and aptly to this purpose the poet Homer, when he had given this commendation of Achilles:
Like unto him there is not one in field Of all the Greeks that serve with spear and shield,
In feats of arms; but for to speak and plead Others there be who can him teach and lead.
Megabyzus the Persian, a great lord, went up one day into the shop of Apelles, where he used to paint; and when he was about to speak (I wot not what) as touching painting-craft, Apelles, not enduring to hear him talk so foolishly, stayed him and stopped his mouth, saying prettily thus unto him: So long, sir, as you held your tongue, you were taken to be some great man, by reason of your chains, corquans, and brooches of gold; your purple robes also, which together with your silence commended your person: but now the very prentice boys here, who grind ochre and such-like colours, are ready to laugh at you, hearing you talk so foolishly, you know not what. And yet some there be who think that the Stoics do but mock and jest when they hear them hold this opinion: That the wise man (such as they imagine to themselves) is not only prudent, just and valiant, but ought also to be called an orator, a captain, and a poet, a rich and mighty man, yea and a very king; whiles they themselves will needs be invested in these titles, and if they be not, then they are displeased and miscontent by and by; what reason they have so to be let them answer. Sure I am that among the gods themselves, some have power one way, and some another; and thereupon took their sundry denominations accordingly, and rest contented therewith: as for example, one is sumamed Enyalius, i.e., the god of war; another Mantous, i.e., the president of prophecies; and a third Cerdous, which is as much to say, as the patron of those that gain by traffic. And hereupon it is that Jupiter in Homer, forbidding Venus to meddle in warlike and martial affairs, as nothing pertinent unto her, sendeth her to weddings and bride-chambers, and bids her attend them.
Moreover, some qualities and things there be that we seem to affect and wish; the which are in nature contrary, and will not concur and sort well together: as for example, the profession of eloquence and the study of arts mathematical require rest and quietness, neither have the students therein need to be employed in any affairs. Contrariwise, policy and managing of the state and weal public, the favours of princes and potentates, are not compassed without much ado; neither can a man be idle at any time, who either is employed in the service of his country, or attendant in the court. Much feeding upon flesh ​and liberal drinking of wine, maketh (I must needs say) the body able and strong, but the mind feeble and weak. Likewise, the continual and excessive care both in getting and keeping goods, may well augment riches and increase our substance: but surely it is the contempt and despisement of worldly wealth that is a great help and means to learning and philosophy. And therefore we may well conclude that every man is not fit for everything: but herein each one must be ruled by the sage sentence of Pythius Apollo, and first learn, To know himself; then mark and observe to what one thing he is most framed and inclined; and thereto both apply and employ his wits, and not to offer violence to nature, and draw her perforce, as it were, against the hair, to this or that course of life which she liketh not.
The horse serves best in chariot at the thill. The ox at plough, the ground to ear and till; Ships under sail the dolphins when they spy, Most swiftly then do swim their sides fast by: Who would in wood the wild boar chase and slay, Must bring with him the hardy hound away.
Now if there be one that shall be angry with himself and displeased that he is not at once both a savage lion of the forest, bold and venturous of his own strength, and withal a dainty fine puppy of Malta; cherished and fostered in the lap and bosom of some delicate dame and rich widow; commend me to him for a senseless fool of all fools, and to say a sooth, I hold him also as very an ass and doltish fop, who will needs be such an one as Empedocles, Plato and Democritus; namely, to write of the world, of the nature and true essence of all things therein, and withal to keep a rich old trot and sleep with her every night, as Euphorion did; or else like unto those who kept company with Alexander the Great in drinking and gaming (as one Medius did), and yet think it a great abuse and indignity (forsooth) if he may not be as much admired for his wealth as Ismenias, and esteemed no less for his virtue than Epaminondas. We see that the runners in a race be not discontented at all if they wear not the garlands and coronets of wrestlers, but rest pleased with their own rewards, and therein delight and rejoice. It is an old said saw, and a common proverb: Sparta is thy lot and province, look well to it, and adorn the same. For it is a saying also of wise Solon:
And yet we will not change our boon With them, for all their wealth and gold:
Goods pass from man to man full soon. Ours virtue is, a sure freehold.
The potter to potter doth bear envy. One carpenter to another hath a spightful eye.
For jealous we are not only of those who exercise the same art and follow that course of life which we do, but the rich also do envy the learned and eloquent; noble men the rich; advocates and lawyers, captious and litigious sophisters; yea, and (that ​which more is) gentlemen free-born, and descended from noble and ancient houses, envy comedians when they have acted well and with a good grace upon the stage in great theatres; dancers also and jesters in the court, whom they see to be in favour and credit with kings and princes; and whiles they do admire these, and think them happy for their good speed and success in comparison of their own doings, they fret and grieve, and out of measure torment themselves.
Now, that every one of us hath within himself treasures laid up of contentment and discontentment, and certain tunes of good things and evil; not bestowed, as Homer said, upon the door-sill and entry of Jupiter's house; but placed in each of our own minds, the divers passions whereunto we are subject do sufficiently prove and shew. For such as are foolish and unadvised, do neglect and let go the very good things that presently they have, and never care to enjoy them, so intentive and earnestly bent are their minds and spirits always to that which is coming, and future expectation: whereas wise men, on the contrary side, call to their fresh remembrance those things that are past, so as they seem to enjoy the same as if they were present, yea and to make that which is no more to be as beneficial unto them as if they were ready and at hand. For surely that which is present, yielding itself to be touched by us but the least moment of time that is, and immediately passing our senses, seemeth unto fools to be none of ours, nor any more to concern us. But like as the roper which is painted in the temple of Pluto, or description of hell, suffereth an ass behind him to gnaw and eat a rope as fast as he twisteth it off the spart-broom; even so the unthankful and senseless oblivion of many ready to catch and devour all good things as they pass by, yea, and to dissipate and cause to vanish away every honest and notable action, all virtuous deeds, duties, delectable recreations and pleasant pastimes, all good fellowship and mutual society, and all amiable conversation one with another, will not permit that the life be one and the same, linked (as it were) and chained by the copulation of things past and present; but dividing yesterday from to-day, and this day from the morrow, as if they were sundry parts of our life, bringeth in such a forgetfulness, as if things once past had never been.
As for those verily who in their disputations and philosophical discourses admit no augmentation of bodies', affirming that every substance continually fadeth and vanisheth, would make us believe in word, that each one of us every hour altereth from ​himself, and no man is the same to-day that he was yesterday: but these for fault of memory not able to retain and keep those things that are done and past, no, nor to apprehend and eftsoons call them again to mind, but suffer everything to pass away and run as it were through a sieve, do not in word but in deed and effect make themselves void and empty every day more than other, depending only upon the morrow, as if those things which were done the year past, of late, and yesterday, nothing appertained unto them, nor ever were at all.
This is, therefore, one thing that hindereth and troubleth that equanimity and repose of spirit which we seek for: and yet there is another that doth it more; and that is this; Like as flies creeping upon the smooth places of glasses or mirrors, cannot hold their feet but must needs fall down, but contrariwise they take hold where they meet with any roughness, and stick fast to rugged flaws that they can find; even so these men, gliding and glancing over all delectable and pleasant occurrences, take hold of any adverse and heavy calamities, those they cleave unto and remember very well; or rather as (by report) there is about the city Olynthus a certain place, into which if any flies called beetles enter in once, they cannot get forth again, but after they have kept a-tuming about, and fetching compasses round to no purpose a long time, they die in the end, whereupon it took the name of Canfharolethron; semblably, men after they fall to the reckoning up and commemoration of their harms and calamities past, are not willing to retire back, nor to breathe themselves and give over multiplying thereupon still. And yet contrariwise, they ought to do after the manner of painters, who when they paint a table do lay upon the ground, or by a course of dead and duskish colours, such as be fresh, gay and gallant, for to palliate and in some sort to hide the unpleasantness of the other, they ought (I say) to smother and keep down the heaviness of the heart occasioned by some cross mishaps, with those that have fallen out of their mind, for to obliterate and wipe them out of their mind quite, and to be freed clean from them it is not possible: and surely the harmony of this world is reciprocal and variable, compounded (as it were) of contraries, like as we do see in an harp or bow; neither is any earthly thing under the cope of heaven pure, simple and sincere without mixture. But as music doth consist of base and treble sounds; and grammar of letters, which be partly vocal and partly mute, to wit, vowels and consonants, and he is not to be counted a grammarian and musician who is offended and ​ displeased with either of those contrary elements of the art, but he that affecteth the one as well as the other, and knoweth how to use and mix both together with skill for to serve his purpose; even so, considering that in the occurrences of man's life there be so many contrarieties, and one weigheth against another in manner of counterpoise; for (according to Euripides):
It cannot stand with our affairs,
That good from bad should parted be:
A medley then of mixed pairs
Doth well, and serves in each degree.
It is not meet that we should let our hearts fall and be discouraged with the one sort whensoever it happeneth, but we ought, according to the rules of harmony in music, to stop the point always of the worst with strokes of better, and by overcasting misfortunes (as it were) with a veil and curtain of good haps, or by setting one to the other, to make a good composition and a pleasant accord in our life, fitting and sorting our own turns. For it is not as Menander said:
Each man so soon as he is born.
One spirit good or angel hath.
Which him assists both even and morn.
And guides his steps in every path;
but rather according to Empedocles: No sooner are we come into the world, but each one of us hath two angels, called Ræmons: two destinies (I say) are allotted unto us, for to take the charge and government of our life, unto which he attributeth livers and sundry names:
Here Clithonie was, a downward look that hath,
Heliope eke, who tumeth to the sun.
And Deris, she that loves in blood to bath.
Harmony smiles ever and anon,
Calisto fair and Æschre foul among,
Thoosa swift, Dinaea stout and strong,
Nemertes, who is lovely white and pure.
But Asaph ie with fruit black and obscure.
Insomuch as our nativity receiving the seeds of each of all these passions blended and confused together, and by reason whereof the course of our life not being uniform, but full of disordered and unequal dispositions, a man of good and sound judgment ought to wish and desire at God's hand the better, to expect and look for the worse, and to make an use of them both, namely, by abridging and cutting off that which is excessive and too much: For not he only (as Epicurus was wont to say) shall come with most delight and pleasure to see the ​morrow-sun, who made least account thereof on the even; but riches also, glory, authority and rule doth most rejoice their hearts who least feared the contrary: for the vehement and ardent desire that a man hath to any of these things, doth imprint likewise an exceeding fear of foregoing and losing the same, and thereby maketh the delight of enjoying them to be feeble and nothing firm and constant; even as the blaze and flame of the fire which is blown and driven to and fro with the wind. But the man who is so much assisted with reason, that he is able without fear and trembling to say unto fortune: or thus:
ἡδὺ μοὶ ἄν τι φέρῃς, ὀλίγον δ' ἄχος ἢν ἀπολείπῃς.
Welcome to me, if good thou bringest ought, And if thou fail, I will take little thought;
Or thus:
Well mayst thou take from me some joy of mind, But little grief thou shalt me leave behind:
hath this benefit by his confidence and resolution: that as he taketh most joy of his good fortunes when they are present, so he never feareth the loss of them, as if it were a calamity insupportable. And herein we may as well imitate as admire the disposition and affection of Anaxagoras, who when he heard the news of his son's death, I know full well (quoth he) when I begot him that die he must: and after his example, whensoever any infortunity happeneth, to be ready with these and such-like speeches: I know that riches were not permanent, but transitory and for a day: I never thought other, but that they who conferred these dignities upon me both might and could deprive me of them: I wist that I had a good wife and virtuous dame, but withal a woman and no more: I was not ignorant that my friend was a man, (that is to say) a living creature by nature mutable, as Plato used to say.
And verily, such preparations and dispositions of our affections as these, if peradventure there shall befall unto us anything against our intent and mind, but not contrary to our expectation, as they will never admit such passionate words as these (I never thought it would have fallen out so, I was in great hope of other matters, and little looked I for this), so they shall be able to rid us of all sudden pantings and leapings of the heart, of unquiet and disorderly beating of the pulses, and soon stay and settle the furious and troublesome motions of impatience. Carneades was wont in time of greatest prosperity to put men in mind of a change; for that the thing which happeneth ​contrary to our hope and expectation is that which altogether and wholly doth breed sorrow and grief.
The kingdom of the Macedonians was not an handful to the Roman empire and dominion; and yet King Perseus, when he had lost Macedonia, did not only himself lament his own fortune most piteously, but in the eyes also of the whole world he was reputed a most unfortunate and miserable man. But behold Paulus Æmelius, whose hap it was to vanquish the said Perseus, when he departed out of that province, and made over into the hands of another his whole army, with so great comnand both of land and sea, was crowned with a chaplet of flowers, and so did sacrifice unto the gods with joy and thanksgiving in the judgment of all men, worthily extolled and reputed as happy. For why? when he received first that high commission and mighty power withal, he knew full well that he was to give it over and resign it up when his time was expired; whereas Perseus, on the contrary side, lost that which he never made account to lose. Certes, even the poet Homer hath given us very well to understand how forcible that is which happeneth besides hope and unlooked for, when he bringeth in Ulysses upon his return, weeping for the death of his dog; but when he sate by his own wife, who shed tears plentifully, wept not at all; nor that he had long before at his leisure against this coming home of his, prevented and brought into subjection (as it were), by the rule of reason, that passion which otherwise he knew well enough would have broken out; whereas, looking for nothing less than the death of his dog, he fell suddenly into it, as having had no time before to repress the same. In sum, of all those accidents which light upon us contrary to our will, some grieve and vex us by the course and instinct of nature; others (and those be the greater part) we are wont to be offended and discontented with, upon a corrupt opinion and abolish custom that we have taken: and therefore we should do very well, against such temptations as these, to be ready with that sentence of Menander:
No harm nor loss thou dost sustain;
But that thou list so for to fain.
And how (quoth he) can it concern thee?
For if no flesh without it wound,
Nor soul within, then all is sound.
As for example, the base parentage and birth of thy father; the adultery of thy wife; the loss or repulse of any honour, dignity ​ or pre-eminence: for what should let, notwithstanding all these crosses, but that thy body and mind both may be in right good plight and excellent estate? And against those accidents which seem naturally to grieve and trouble us, to wit, maladies, pains and travails; death of dear friends and toward children, we may oppose another saying of Euripides the poet:
Alas, alas, and well-a-day:
But why alas, and well away?
Nought else to us hath yet been dealt.
But that which daily men have felt.
For no remonstrance nor reason is so effectual to restrain and stay this passionate and sensual part of our mind, when it is ready to slip and be carried headlong away with our affections, as that which calleth to remembrance the common and natural necessity; by means whereof a man in regard of his body, being mixed and compounded, doth expose and offer this handle (as it were) and vantage whereby fortune is to take hold when she wrestleth against him; for otherwise, in the greatest and most principal things, he abideth fast and sure. King Demetrius having forced and won the city Megara, demanded of Stilpo, the wise philosopher, whether he had lost any goods in the sackage and pillage thereof? Sir (quoth he), I saw not so much as one man carrying anything of mine away; semblably, when fortune hath made what spoil she can, and taken from us all other things, yet somewhat there remaineth still within ourselves,
Which Greeks, do what they can or may.
Shall neither drive nor bear away.
In which regard we ought altogether so to depress, debase and throw down our human nature, as if it had nothing firm, stable and permanent, nothing above the reach and power of fortune: but contrariwise, knowing that it is the least and worst part of man, and the same frail, brittle, and subject to death, which maketh us to lie open unto fortune and her assaults; whereas in respect of the better part we are masters over her, and have her at command, when there being seated and founded most surely the best and greatest things that we have, to wit, sound and honest opinions, arts and sciences, good discourses tending to virtue, which be all of a substance incorruptible, and whereof we cannot be robbed: we (I say) knowing thus much, ought in the confidence of ourselves to carry a mind invincible and secure against whatsoever shall happen, and be able to say that to the face of fortune which Socrates, addressing his speech indeed covertly to the judges, seemed to speak ​ against his two accusers, Anytus and Melitus: Well may Anytus and Melitus bring me to my death, but hurt or harm me they shall never be able.
And even so fortune hath power to bring a disease or sickness upon a man, his goods she can take away, raise she may a slander of him to tyrant, prince or people, and bring him out of grace and favour; but him that is virtuous, honest, valiant and magnanimous, she cannot make wicked, dishonest, base-minded, malicious and envious: and in one word, she hath not power to take from him a good habitude, settled upon wisdom and discretion, which wheresoever it is always present, doth more good unto a man for to guide him how to live, than the pilot at sea for to direct a ship in her course; for surely the pilot, be he never so skilful, knoweth not how to still the rough and surging billows when he would, he cannot allay the violence of a tempest, or blustering wind, neither put into a safe harbour and haven, or gain a commodious bay to anchor in at all times and in every coast, would he never so fain, nor resolutely without fear and trembling when he is in a tempest, abide the danger and undergo all; thus far forth only his art serveth, so long as he is in no despair but that his skill may take place:
To strike mainsail, and down the lee
To let ship hull, until he see
The foot of mast no more above
The sea: while he doth not remove,
But with one hand in other fast
Quaketh and panteth all aghast.
But the disposition and staid mind of a prudent man, over and besides that it bringeth the body into a quiet and calm estate, by dissipating and dispatching for the most part the occasions and preparatives of diseases, and that by continent he, sober diet, moderate exercises, and travails in measure; if haply there chance some little beginning or indisposition to a passion, upon which the mind is ready to run itself, as a ship, upon some blind rock under the water, it can quickly turn about his nimble and light cross-sail yard, as Asclepiades was wont to say, and so avoid the danger.
But say there come upon us some great and extraordinary accident, such as neither we looked for, nor be able by all the power we have, either to overcome or endure; the haven is near at hand, we may swim safely thither out of the body (as it were), out of a vessel that leaketh and taketh water, and will no longer hold a passenger: as for foolish folk, it is the fear of ​ death, and not the love of life, that causeth them to cling and stick so close to the body, hanging and clasping thereunto no otherwise than Ulysses to the wild fig-tree, when he feared with great horror the gulf Charybdis roaring under him:
Whereas the winds would not permit to stay.
Nor suffer him to row or sail away:
displeased infinitely in the one, and dreading fearfully the other. But he that in some measure (be it never so little) knoweth the nature of the soul, and casteth this with himself: That by death there is a passage out of this life, either to a better state, or at leastwise not to a worse: certes, he is furnished with no mean wayfaring provision to bring him to the security of mind in this life, I mean the fearless contempt of death: for he that may (so long as virtue and the better part of the soul (which indeed is proper unto man) is predominant) live pleasantly; and when the contrary passions, which are enemies to nature, do prevail, depart resolutely and without fear, saying thus unto himself:
God will me suffer to be gone
When that I will myself, anon.
What can we imagine to happen unto a man of this resolution, that should encumber, trouble or terrify him? for whosoever he was that said: I have prevented thee (O Fortune), I have stopped up all thy avenues, I have intercepted and choked all the ways of access and entry; surely he fortified himself, not with bars and barricades, not with locks and keys, nor yet with mures and walls, but with philosophical and sage lessons, with sententious saws, and with discourses of reason, whereof all men that are willing be capable. Neither ought a man to discredit the truth of these and such-like things which are committed in writing, and give no belief unto them, but rather to admire, and with an affectionate ravishment of spirit embrace and imitate them; yea, and withal to make a trial and experiment of himself; first in smaller matters, proceeding afterwards to greater, until he reach unto the highest, and in no wise to shake off such meditations, nor to shift off and seek to avoid the exercise of the mind in this kind, and in so doing, he shall haply find no such difficulty as he thinketh. For as the effeminate delicacy and niceness of our mind, amused always and loving to be occupied in the most easy objects, and retiring eftsoons from the cogitation of those things that fall out cross, unto such as tend unto greatest pleasure, causeth it to be soft and tender, and imprinteth a certain daintiness not able to abide any ​exercise; so if the same mind would by custom learn and exercise itself in apprehending the imagination of a malady, of pain, travel, and of banishment, and enforce itself by reason to withstand and strive against each of these accidents, it will be found and seen by experience, that such things which through an erroneous opinion were thought painful, grievous, hard and terrible, are for the most part but vain indeed, deceitful and contemptible: like as reason will shew the same if a man would consider them each one in particular. Howbeit, the most part mightily fear and have in horror that verse of Menander:
No man alive can safely say, This case shall never me assay,
as not knowing how material it is to the exempting and freeing of a man from all grief and sorrow, to meditate beforehand, and to be able to look open-eyed full against fortune, and not to make those apprehensions and imaginations in himself soft and effeminate, as if he were fostered and nourished in the shadow, under many foolish hopes which ever yield to the contrary, and be not able to resist so much as any one.
But to come again unto Menander, we have to answer unto him in this manner: True it is indeed, there is no man living able to say: This or this shall never happen unto me; howbeit, thus much may a man that is alive say and affirm: So long as I live I will not do this, to wit, I will not lie; I will never be a cozener, nor circumvent any man; I will not defraud any one of his own; neither will I forelay and surprise any man by a wile. This lieth in our power to promise and perform, and this is no small matter, but a great means to procure tranquillity and contentment of mind. Whereas contrariwise, the remorse of conscience whenas a man is privy to himself, and must needs confess and say: These and these wicked parts I have committed, festereth in the soul like an ulcer and sore in the flesh, and leaveth behind it repentance in the soul, which fretteth, galleth, spaweth, and setteth it a-bleeding fresh continually. For, whereas all other sorrows, griefs, and anguishes, reason doth take away; repentance only it doth breed and engender, which together with shame biteth and punisheth itself; for like as they who quiver and shake in the fevers called epioli; or contrariwise, burn by occasion of other agues, are more afflicted and more at ease than those who suffer the same accidents by exterior causes, to wit, winter's cold or summer's heat; even so ill mischances and casual calamities bring with them lighter ​dolours and pains as coming from without. But when a man is forced thus to confess:
Myself I may well thank for this, None else for it blame worthy is:
which is an ordinary speech of them who lamentably bewail their sins from the bottom of their hearts, it causeth grief and sorrow to be so much more heavy, and it is joined with shame and infamy: whereupon it cometh to pass that neither house richly and finely furnished, nor heaps of gold and silver, no parentage or nobility of birth, no dignity of estate and authority, how high soever, no grace in speech, no force and power of eloquence, can yield unto a man's life such a calm (as it were) and peaceable tranquillity, as a soul and conscience clear from wicked deeds, sinful cogitations and lewd designs, which having the source and fountain of life (I mean the inward disposition of the heart) not troubled and polluted, but clear and cleansed; from whence all good and laudable actions do flow and proceed, and the same do give a lively, cheerful, and effectual operation, even by some divine instinct and heavenly inspiration, together with a bold courage and haughty mind, and withal yield the remembrance of a virtuous and well led life, more sweet, pleasant, firm and permanent than is that hope whereof Pindarus writeth, the nurse and fostress of old age: for we must not think that (as Cameades was wont to say) the censers or perfuming pans wherein sweet incense is burned, retain and render the pleasant odour a long time after they be empty, and that the virtuous deeds of a wise and honest man should not always leave behind them in the soul an amiable, delightful and fresh remembrance thereof; by means whereof, that inward joy being watered, is ever green, buddeth and flourisheth still, despising the shameful error of those who with their plaints, moans and wailings defame this life of ours, saying: It is a very hell and place of torments or else a region of confined and exiled souls, into which they were sent away and banished forth of heaven.
And here I cannot choose but highly commend that memorable saying of Diogenes, who seeing once a certain stranger at Lacedæmon dressing and trimming himself very curiously against a festival and high day: What means all this (quoth he), my good friend? to a good and honest man is not every day in ​the year a feast and holy day? yes verily, and if we be wise we should think all days double feasts and most solemn gaudy-days: for surely this world is a right sacred and holy temple, yea, and most divine, beseeming the majesty of God, into which man is inducted and admitted at his nativity, not to gaze and look at statues and images cut and made by man's hand, and such as have no motion of their own, but to behold those works and creatures which that divine spirit and almighty power in wonderful wisdom and providence hath made and shewed unto us sensible; and yet (as Plato saith) representing and resembling intelligible powers, from whence proceed the beginnings of life and moving, namely, the sun, the moon, the stars; what should I speak of the rivers which continually send out fresh water still; and the earth which bringeth forth nourishment for all living creatures, and yieldeth nutriment likewise to every plant?
Now if our life be the imitation of so sacred mysteries, and (is it were) a profession and entrance into so holy a religion of all others most perfect, we must needs esteem it to be full of contentment and continual joy: neither ought we (as the common multitude doth) attend and wait for the feasts of Saturn, Bacchus, or Minerva, and such other high days wherein they may solace themselves, make merry and laugh, buying their mirth and joy for money, giving unto players, jesters, dancers, and such-like their hire and reward for to make them laugh. In which feasts and solemnities we use to sit with great contentment of mind, arrayed decently according to our degree and calling (for no man useth to mourn and lament when he is professed in the mysteries of Ceres, and received into that confraternity; no man sorroweth when he doth behold the goodly sights of the Pythian games; no man hungereth or fasteth during the Saturnals): what an indignity and shame is it then that in those feasts which God himself hath instituted, and wherein (as a man would say) he leadeth the dance, or is personally himself to give institution and induction, men should contaminate, pollute and profane as they do, dishonouring their life for the most part, with weeping, wailing, sighing and groaning, or at the leastwise in deep thoughts and pensive cares.
But the greatest shame of all other is this; that we take pleasure to hear the organs and instruments of music sound pleasantly; we delight to hear birds singing sweetly; we behold with right goodwill beasts playing, sporting, dancing and skipping featly; and contrariwise, we are offended when they howl, roar, snarl, and gnash their teeth, as also when they shew a ​fierce, stern and hideous look; and all this while seeing our own lives heavy, sad, travailed and oppressed with most unpleasant passions, most intricate and inexplicable affairs, and overwhelmed with infinite and endless cares; yet we will not afford ourselves some rest and breathing time; nay (that which more is), we will not admit the speech and remonstrances of our friends and familiars, whom if we would give ear unto, we might without fault-finding receive the present, remember with joy and thanksgiving that which is past, and without distrust, suspicion and fear, expect with joyful and lightsome hope that which is to come.
* ↑ Not τρυφερᾶσ, as it is commonly printed, and according to which Budæus hath translated it, and made no sense at all in Latin. But in Homer the same manner of phrase is used, Iliad, ξ. οἵ μ᾽ οἴσουσιν ἐπὶ ρυφερήν τε καὶ ὑγρήν, i.e., over land and sea.
* ↑ Or rosemary banks after they be cut down and left void, as some expound.