On Tranquillity of Mind (5-9)

Plato,[*] for instance, compared life to a game of dice in which we must try, not only to throw what suits us best, but also, when we have thrown, to make good use of whatever turns up. But with circumstances, though it is not in our power to throw what we please, yet it is our task, if we are wise, to accept in a suitable manner whatever accrues from Fortune and to assign to each event a place in which both what suits us shall help us most and what is unwanted shall do least harm. For those who are without skill and sense as to how they should live, like sick people whose bodies can endure neither heat nor cold, are elated by good fortune and depressed by adversity; and they are greatly disturbed by both, or rather by themselves in both and as much in what is called good as in the bad. Theodorus,[*] called the Atheist, used to say that he offered his discourses with his right hand, but his audience received them with their left; so uninstructed persons, when Fortune presents herself adroitly on their right, often gauchely substitute their left hands in receiving her and cut a sorry figure. But men of sense, just as bees extract honey from thyme, the most pungent and the driest

of plants,[*] often in like manner draw from the most unfavourable circumstances something which suits them and is useful.

This, then, we should practice and cultivate first of all, like the man who threw a stone at his dog, but missed her and hit his stepmother, whereupon he exclaimed, Not so bad after all! [*] For it is possible to change the direction of Fortune when she has given us things we do not wish. Diogenes[*] was driven into exile: Not so bad after all! for after his exile he began to lead the life of a philosopher. Zeno[*] of Citium had one merchantman remaining; when he learned that this had been sunk at sea and lost with all its cargo, he cried, Much obliged, Fortune! You also drive me to the philosopher’s cloak. [*]

What, then, prevents our imitating such men as these? Have you failed in your canvass for an office? You will be able to live in the country and look after your own affairs. Were you repulsed in wooing the friendship of some great man? Your life will be free from danger and trouble. Have you, again, become occupied with matters which take all your time and fill you with cares?

Nor shall hot water so soften the limbs,

as Pindar[*] has it, since high repute and honour conjoined with a measure of power make

Labour pleasant and toil to be sweet toil.[*]

Have you, by reason of slander or envy, become the butt of jeers and cat-calls? The breeze is favouring that bears you to the Muses and the Academy,[*] as it was for Plato[*] when he was buffeted by the storm of Dionysius’s friendship.

For this reason it will also help greatly toward tranquillity of mind to observe that famous men have suffered nothing at all from evils the same as yours. Does childlessness, for example, vex you? Consider the kings[*] of Rome, of whom not one was able to bequeath the kingdom to a son. Are you distressed by your present poverty? Well, what Boeotian rather than Epameinondas, what Roman rather than Fabricius, would you have preferred to be? But my wife has been seduced. Have you, then, not read the inscription at Delphi,

The lord of land and sea, King Agis, put me here[*];

and have you not heard that Alcibiades[*] seduced Agis’s wife, Timaea, and that, whispering to her handmaids, she called her child Alcibiades? But this did not prevent Agis from being the most celebrated and the greatest of Greeks. Just as the licentiousness of his daughter did not prevent Stilpo[*] from leading the most cheerful life of all the philosophers of his time; on the contrary, when Metrocles reproached him, he asked, Is this my fault or hers? And when Metrocles replied, Her fault, but your misfortune, he said, What do you mean? Are not faults also slips? Certainly, said Metrocles. And are not slips also mischances of those who have slipped? Metrocles agreed. And are not mischances also misfortunes of those whose mischances they are? By this gentle and philosophic argument he showed the Cynics abuse to be but idle yapping.

But most people are pained and exasperated by the faults, not only of their friends and relatives, but also of their enemies. For abuse and rage on their part, envy and malevolence and jealousy, coupled with ill-will, are the bane of those who are subject to these faults, but it is fools whom they trouble and exasperate-as, for example, neighbours’ outbursts of temper and friends’ peevishness, and certain acts of dishonesty on the part of state officials charged with administration. By these things you yourself seem to me to be disturbed as much as anybody, and like the physicians to whom Sophocles[*] alludes -

With bitter drugs they purge the bitter bile -

so you become angry and bitter against these men and suffer from their passions and infirmities; but this is irrational. For even in the execution of matters committed to your personal care, most of them are in fact administered, not by simple and excellent natures, men naturally suited to be another’s instruments, as it were, but by jagged and crooked ones. Do not, therefore, consider it your business to straighten them out, and it would not in any case be easy to do so. But if - dealing with them as being what they are by nature, just as a physician uses forceps for teeth and clips for wounds[*] - you show yourself as gentle and self-controlled as you can, you will have greater pleasure in your own state of mind than distress at the unpleasantness and villainy of those others, and you will think that they, like dogs when they bark, are but fulfilling their nature; and no longer will you unwittingly gather into this present captiousness or infirmity of yours many grievances, like offscourings which drain into some hollow and low-lying ground,[*] thus letting yourself be infected with the vices of others. For since some of the philosophers censure even pity that is expended upon unfortunate persons, on the ground that it is good to give help to our neighbours, but not to participate in their sorrows nor give in to them; and, what is more important, since these philosophers do not allow us, when we perceive ourselves to be doing wrong and to be getting into a bad state of mind, to despair or be dejected, but bid us cure our vice painlessly, as we should: just consider, then - how can it be anything but irrational to allow ourselves to become vexed and troubled because not everyone who has dealings with us or approaches us is honourable and cultivated? No, my dear Paccius, you must see to it that we are not unwittingly taking a stand in alarm, not at the general wickedness of those we encounter, but at their particular wickedness to us; so our motive would be a selfish interest, not detestation of villainy.[*] For excessive apprehension about public affairs and unworthy appetites and desires, or, on the other hand, aversions and dislikes, engender suspicions and enmities toward persons who were, we think, the cause of our being deprived of some desirable things and of our encountering others which are unpleasant; it is the man who has become accustomed to adapt himself to public affairs easily and with self-control who becomes the most gracious and gentle in his dealings with his fellows.

Therefore let us resume our discussion of circumstances.[*] For just as in a fever everything we eat seems bitter and unpleasant to the taste, and yet when we see others taking the same food and finding no displeasure in it, we no longer continue to blame the food and the drink, but accuse ourselves and our malady; so we shall cease blaming and being disgruntled with circumstances if we see others accepting the same events cheerfully and without offence. And so it is conducive to tranquillity of mind, in the midst of happenings which are contrary to our wishes, not to overlook whatever we have that is pleasant and attractive, but, mingling good with bad, cause the better to outshine the worse. But as it is, while we turn away our eyes[*] when they are wounded by too dazzling a light and refresh them with the tints and hues of flowers and grass, yet we strain the mind toward painful things and force it to dwell on the consideration of disagreeable matters, all but

dragging it by compulsion away from those wThich are better. And yet one might adapt here not inaptly the remark addressed to the meddlesome man[*]:

Why do you look so sharp on others’ ills,

Malignant man, yet overlook your own?

Why do you scrutinize too keenly your own trouble, my good sir, and continue to make it ever vivid and fresh in your mind, but do not direct your thoughts to those good things which you have? But, just as cupping-glasses[*] draw the most virulent humour from the flesh, so you gather together against yourself the worst of your own conditions, proving yourself not a whit better than the man of Chios who sold excellent old wine to everyone else, but tried to find sour wine for his own luncheon; and when one of his slaves was asked by the other what he had left his master doing, he answered, Hunting bad when good was at hand. Most persons, in fact, do pass by the excellent and palatable conditions of their lot and hasten to those that are unpleasant and disagreeable. Aristippus,[*] however, was not one of these, but was wise enough, like one who weighs things in a balance, by weighing the bad against the better, to rise above the conditions in which he found himself and thus to lighten his spirits. At any rate, when he had lost a fine estate, he asked one of those who made a great pretence of condoling with him and sharing in his ill humour at misfortune, Isn’t it true that you have only one small bit of land, while I have three farms remaining? When the person agreed that this was so, Aristippus said, Should I not then rather condole with you? For it is the act of a madman to be distressed at what is lost and not rejoice at what is saved, but like little children, who, if someone takes away one of their many toys, will throw away all the rest as well and cry and howl; in the same way, if we are troubled by Fortune in one matter, we make everything else also unprofitable by lamenting and taking it hard.

And what, someone may say, do we really have and what do we not have? One man has reputation, another a house, another a wife, another a good friend. Antipater[*] of Tarsus, on his deathbed reckoning up the good things that had fallen to his lot, did not omit even the fair voyage he had from Cilicia to Athens; so we should not overlook even common and ordinary things, but take some account of them and be grateful that we are alive and well and look upon the sun; that there is neither war nor factious strife among us, but that both the earth grants cultivation and the sea fair sailing to those who wish it; that we may speak or act, be silent or at leisure, as we choose. These things when they are present will afford us greater tranquillity of mind, if we but imagine them to be absent, and remind ourselves often how desirable is health to the sick, and peace to those at war, and, to an unknown stranger in so great a city,[*] the acquisition of reputation and

friends; and how painful it is to be deprived of these things when we have once had them. For it will not then be the case that we find each one of these important and valuable only when it has been lost, but worthless while securely held. Our not possessing it does not add value to anything, nor should we acquire these things as though they were of great worth and live in fear and trembling as though for things of great moment, lest we be deprived of them, and yet while we have them overlook and despise them as of no value: we should above all take care to use them for our pleasure and enjoyment, in order that we may bear their loss, if that should happen, with greater moderation. But most people, as Arcesilaüs said, think it right to examine poems and paintings and statues of others with the eyes of both the mind and the body, poring over them minutely and in every detail, whereas they neglect their own life, which has many not unpleasing subjects for contemplation, looking ever to externals and admiring the repute and the fortunes of others, as adulterers do other men’s wives, yet despising themselves and their own possessions.