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That death is good which leaves the sweet years be but comes at once to him who calls in sorrow. But oh, when it turns deaf ears to the wretched, cruelly refusing to close up tearful eyes!
When she saw the poetic Muses attending at my bedside, and dictating the words for my lament, she was shocked for a moment, her eyes flashing fiercely. “Who,” she asked, “has allowed these theater-whores to approach this sick man? They cannot treat his pains with any medicines, but, far worse, they feed them with sweet poisons! These are the very ones who murder the crop of reason, rich in fruit, with the thorns of barren sentimentality. They do not free the minds of men, but only numb them to their disease.
This man once used to seek out and disclose the varied principles of secret nature. Now here he lies, the light of the mind blown out.
“There is no danger; he suffers from dullness, the common illness of deluded minds. He has forgotten himself for a moment, but he will easily remember once he recognizes us. To help him do that, I will wipe the dark cloud of mortal things from his eyes at once.”
Philosophy has never seen fit to abandon an innocent man with no companion for his journey.
After that, the common rabble—Epicureans, Stoics, and others—tried to seize his legacy for their own gain: they dragged me away like plunder, though I protested and fought back.
“Even if you do not know about the flight of Anaxagoras, the poisoning of Socrates, or the tortures of Zeno,[4] which happened in foreign lands, you may still know of Canius, Seneca, and Soranus,[5] whose memory is neither distant nor obscure. They were brought down to ruin for nothing but being educated in our ways, for making it evident that they would not comply with the desires of vicious men.
But we should despise the wicked even if they are a great multitude, for they are governed by no leader, but are blindly pulled in all directions by frantic error.
But he who wilts from fear or from desire becomes infirm and does not rule himself, he throws his shield away, he turns and flees, and fastens for himself the chain that leads him.
“Do you understand these things?” she asked, “Have they sunk into your soul, or do you listen only as the ass hears the lyre?[6] Why are you weeping, why pouring out tears? Speak out, do not conceal it in your mind.[7] If you want a physician to help you, you must uncover your wound.”
That is the price of a free conscience: to defend justice is always to make powerful enemies.
Our base desires after all are defects of our common nature, but it is monstrous that the guilty should prevail against the innocent—in every scheme whatsoever—with God looking on.
“And then, on top of that, another evil is my heaped on my pile: that most people judge actions not on their merits, but on the outcome of fortune, and they only reckon those things wise if they are recommended by a lucky result. That is why the first thing an unlucky man loses is his good name.
I can only say this, that the ultimate burden of adverse fortune is that as soon as any blame is laid upon the poor, it is believed that they deserved their punishment.
All things indeed you rule within set limits, from acts of men alone you stay your hand, not keeping all within the bounds of justice.
But why are slippery Fortune’s gifts so varied? She lays upon the back of innocence the noxious penalties reserved for crime, while twisted souls in unearned luxury sit high above and, bringing down their heels, strike blows upon the necks of holy men. with virtue lying buried in the dark, its brightness in eclipse, the just man bears the blame of criminals.
But you have not come this far from your fatherland by being driven: you have wandered away yourself; or if you prefer to think you have been driven, then it is you who have done the driving, since no one else could have.
“Do you think this world is governed by accident and random causes, or that it contains any rule of reason?”
If your truest wish is truth discerned clearly take then the right path, following wisdom: banish cheap pleasure; cowardice also, drive out ambition, banish all sorrow. Governed by these things the mind is enclouded, bound up and bridled.
I know the many wiles of that strumpet Fortune only too well. She is flattering and intimate with those she is trying to cheat, until she abandons them without warning to intolerable grief.
“Do you really put value on a happiness that is going to pass?
In the end, once you have bent your neck to Fortune’s yoke, you must bear with equal spirit whatever enters her realm.
if these things you complain about losing had ever been yours, you could not have lost them.
For he is never rich who trembling, groaning, Thinks himself impoverished.’
And if you don’t think you are happy, because the things that seemed to please you have departed, you still have no reason to think you are miserable, since the things you now believe are making you wretched are passing away as well.
This stands an everlasting law: that nothing born can stand.”
That is why no one finds it easy to be content with the quality of his own fortune: in every case, one longs for what he has not known or fears for what he has.
“Further, the most fortunate men are the most delicate, since they are not used to the slightest hardship. Unless everything is brought for them at a nod, they become downcast. From the height of that ‘blessedness’ based upon fortune, the tiniest difficulties drag them down.
Then as long as you are master of yourself, you will have in hand of something you never want to lose but Fortune cannot take away.
Are riches precious because of their own nature or because of yours?
It is fair to say, he wants the most who owns the most, but he wants the least who craves no excess and measures his wealth by the needs of nature.
“In the end, we may draw the same conclusion about every aspect of fortune: there is nothing to be desired in her; it is obvious she holds no natural good, since she does not always join herself to good men and does not even make them good who she does join.
But you men do not know how to act rightly except to gain the wind of popular opinion and empty rumors, so you forsake the excellence of conscience and virtue and beg rewards from the prattle of others.
Nothing is left of their fame but three hollow names, marked by a few, meager letters; and do monuments tell any story but this: ‘Those who are named have been eaten’?
I actually think that adverse Fortune is better for men than prosperous Fortune; because when she seems attractive and pretends to bring happiness, she is lying, but she is always honest when she shows her inconstancy by a change. One Fortune deceives, the other instructs; one chains down minds with the appearance of false goods—if they delight in them—while the other frees them with the realization that happiness is fragile.
Finally, happy Fortune leads men astray from the true good with flattery, but adverse Fortune often draws them back to true goods by her crook.
And do you think it’s a small thing that this harsh, this horrible Fortune of yours has shown you the minds of your friends who are faithful? She has separated out for you those companions who are trustworthy from those who are two-faced. When she departed, she took her own with her and left behind those who are yours.
If Love were to slacken his reins, all that’s bound in mutual trust would raise a continual war; this cosmic machine they now sustain, by the faith of friends, by lovely deeds, they would battle to dissolve.
The honey crafted by the bees is sweeter if first the mouth has tasted bitter food.
Error, nonetheless, leads them off the path towards false goods. Some believe the highest good is being rich without want, so they toil to gain an abundance of wealth. Others think the good is winning the best reputation, so they seek the respect of their fellow citizens by obtaining honors. There are those who locate the highest good in the highest power. They want either to be rulers themselves or to ally themselves with those who are. To others the good seems to be the greatest fame, so they rush to spread their glorious name abroad by works of war or peace. But the largest portion measure
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So you have set before your eyes almost the whole form of human happiness: riches, honors, power, glory, and pleasures. Epicurus considered these things only and concluded that the highest good is pleasure, because all the others seem to bring delight to the soul.
“I will not repeat that nature is satisfied by little, and greed by nothing.
still while he lives, his gnawing care will never leave his side, and when he dies, his idle riches will not go with him.
So we cannot judge from public honors that men are worthy of respect, when we find them unworthy of those very honors.
Pay special attention to this point: since a man becomes increasingly wretched by being despised by many, and since public office puts a man on display while failing to make him honorable, what it really does is make unjust men more detested.
For as we said a little earlier, a thing with no beauty of its own sometimes receives splendor in the opinion of those concerned, and sometimes loses it.
“What then could that power be, when its possessors fear it, when wanting to have it does not make you safe, and when you cannot give it up even if you want to be rid of it? And what help are friends if they are not won by virtue but by fortune? When good fortune makes a friend, misfortune will make an enemy. Is there any plague more powerfully destructive than a friend turned foe?
“He who would truly possess might and power, Let him first tame his own wildness of spirit, Never submitting his neck to the bridle of Ravenous passions that conquer the wretched.
Oh, glory, oh glory, how often you’ve exalted the lives of the base!
Many indeed have seized a great name by the false opinions of the mob. Can you think of a greater disgrace, since men should blush when they are falsely praised? And even if praises are merited, what do they add to a wise man’s self-knowledge? He does not measure his own good by popular acclaim but by the truth of his conscience.
