which it is
impossible should happen, or than, considering what human nature is, on
what conditions life was given, and how we may comply with them. The
effect of which is that we are always grieving, but that we never do
so; for whoever reflects on the nature of things, the various turns of
life, and the weakness of human nature, grieves, indeed, at that
reflection; but while so grieving he is, above all other times,
behaving as a wise man, for he gains these two things by it: one, that
while he is considering the state of human nature he is performing the
especial duties of philosophy, and is provided with a triple medicine
against adversity--in the first place, because he has long reflected
that such things might befall him, and this reflection by itself
contributes much towards lessening and weakening all misfortunes; and,
secondly, because he is persuaded that we should bear all the accidents
which can happen to man with the feelings and spirit of a man; and,
lastly, because he considers that what is blamable is the only evil.
But it is not your fault that something has happened to you which it
was impossible for man to avoid. For that withdrawing of our thoughts
which he recommends when he calls us off from contemplating our
misfortunes is an imaginary action; for it is not in our power to
dissemble or to forget those evils which lie heavy on us; they tear,
vex, and sting us--they burn us up, and leave no breathing time. And do
you order us to forget them (for such forgetfulness is contrary to
nature), and at the same time deprive us of the only assistance which
nature affords, the being accustomed to them? For that, though it is
but a slow medicine (I mean that which is brought by lapse of time), is
still a very effectual one. You order me to employ my thoughts on
something good, and forget my misfortunes. You would say something
worthy a great philosopher if you thought those things good which are
best suited to the dignity of human nature.

XVII. Should Pythagoras, Socrates, or Plato say to me, Why are you
dejected or sad? Why do you faint, and yield to fortune, which,
perhaps, may have power to harass and disturb you, but should not quite
unman you? There is great power in the virtues; rouse them, if they
chance to droop. Take fortitude for your guide, which will give you
such spirits that you will despise everything that can befall man, and
look on it as a trifle. Add to this temperance, which is moderation,