κράτιστον δὴ πρὸς ἀλυπίαν φάρμακον ὁ λόγος καὶ ἡ διὰ τούτου παρασκευὴ πρὸς πάσας τοῦ βίου τὰς μεταβολάς. χρὴ γὰρ οὐ μόνον ἑαυτὸν εἰδέναι θνητὸν ὄντα τὴν φύσιν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ὅτι θνητῷ σύγκληρός ἐστι βίῳ καὶ πράγμασι ῥᾳδίως μεθισταμένοις πρὸς τοὐναντίον. ἀνθρώπων γὰρ ὄντως θνητὰ μὲν καὶ ἐφήμερα τὰ σώματα, θνηταὶ δὲ τύχαι καὶ πάθη καὶ πάνθʼ ἁπλῶς; τὰ κατὰ τὸν βίον, ἅπερ οὐκ ἔστι φυγεῖν βροτὸν οὐδʼ ὑπαλύξαι / τὸ παράπαν ἀλλὰ Ταρτάρου πυθμὴν πιέζει σʼ ἀφανοῦς σφυρηλάτοις / ἀνάγκαις / ὥς φησι Πίνδαρος. ὅθεν ὀρθῶς ὁ Φαληρεὺς Δημήτριος εἰπόντος Εὐριπίδου ὁ δʼ ὄλβος οὐ βέβαιος ἀλλʼ ἐφήμερος / καὶ ὅτι μίκρʼ ἄττα τὰ σφάλλοντα, καὶ μίʼ ἡμέρα / τὰ μὲν καθεῖλεν ὑψόθεν, τὰ δʼ ἦρʼ ἄνω / τὰ μὲν ἄλλα καλῶς ἔφη λέγειν αὐτόν, βέλτιον δʼ ἄν ἔχου ἦν, εἰ μὴ μίαν ἡμέραν ἀλλὰ στιγμὴν εἶπε χρόνου κύκλος γὰρ αὑτὸς καρπίμοις τε γῆς φυτοῖς / γένει βροτῶν τε. τοῖς μὲν αὔξεται βίος, / τῶν δὲ φθίνει τε κἀκθερίζεται πάλιν. / ὁ δὲ Πίνδαρος ἐν ἄλλοις τί δέ τις; τί δʼ οὔ τις; σκιᾶς ὄναρ / ἄνθρωπος / ἐμφαντικῶς σφόδρα καὶ φιλοτέχνως ὑπερβολῇ χρησάμενος τὸν τῶν ἀνθρώπων βίον ἐδήλωσε. τί γὰρ σκιᾶς ἀσθενέστερον; τὸ δὲ ταύτης ὄναρ οὐδʼ ἂν ἐκφράσαι τις ἕτερος δυνηθείη σαφῶς. τούτοις δʼ ἑπόμενος καὶ ὁ Κράντωρ παραμυθούμενος ἐπὶ τῇ τῶν τέκνων τελευτῇ τὸν Ἱπποκλέα φησὶ ταῦτα γὰρ πᾶσα αὕτη ἡ ἀρχαία φιλοσοφία λέγει τε καὶ παρακελεύεται. ὧν εἰ δή τι ἄλλο μὴ ἀποδεχόμεθα, τό γε πολλαχῆ εἶναι ἐργώδη καὶ δύσκολον τὸν βίον ἄγαν ἀληθές. καὶ γὰρ εἰ μὴ φύσει τοῦτον ἔχει τὸν τρόπον, ὑπὸ γʼ ἡμῶν εἰς τοῦτʼ ἀφῖκται διαφθορᾶς. ἥ τʼ ἄδηλος αὕτη τύχη πόρρωθεν ἡμῖν καὶ ἔτʼ ἀπʼ ἀρχῆς ἠκολούθηκεν οὐδʼ ἐφʼ ἑνὶ ὑγιεῖ, φυομένοις τε μίγνυταί τις ἐν πᾶσι κακοῦ μοῖρα· τὰ γάρ τοι σπέρματα εὐθὺς θνητὰ ὄντα ταύτης κοινωνεῖ τῆς αἰτίας, ἐξ ἧς ἀφυΐα μὲν ψυχῆς, νόσοι δὲ καὶ κήδεα καὶ μοῖρα θνητῶν ἐκεῖθεν ἡμῖν ἕρπει. τοῦ δὴ χάριν ἐτραπόμεθα δεῦρο; ἵνʼ εἰδείημεν ὅτι καινὸν ἀτυχεῖν οὐδὲν ἀνθρώπῳ ἀλλὰ πάντες ταὐτὸ πεπόνθαμεν. ἄσκοπος γὰρ ἡ τύχη φησὶν ὁ Θεόφραστος καὶ δεινὴ παρελέσθαι τὰ προπεπονημένα καὶ μεταρρῖψαι τὴν δοκοῦσαν εὐημερίαν, οὐδένα καιρὸν ἔχουσα τακτόν ταῦτα δὲ καὶ ἄλλα τοιαῦτα καὶ καθʼ ἑαυτὸν ἑκάστῳ λογίσασθαι ῥᾴδιον, καὶ ἄλλων ἀκοῦσαι παλαιῶν καὶ σοφῶν ἀνδρῶν· ὧν πρῶτος μέν ἐστιν ὁ θεῖος Ὅμηρος, εἰπών οὐδὲν ἀκιδνότερον γαῖα τρέφει ἀνθρώποιο. / οὐ μὲν γάρ ποτέ φησι κακὸν πείσεσθαι ὀπίσσω, / ὄφρʼ ἀρετὴν παρέχωσι θεοὶ καὶ γούνατʼ ὀρώρῃ / ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ λυγρὰ θεοὶ μάκαρες τελέσωσι, / καὶ τὰ φέρει ἀεκαζόμενος τετληότι θυμῷ / καὶ τοῖος γὰρ νόος ἐστὶν ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων, / οἷον ἐπʼ ἦμαρ ἄγῃσι πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε / καὶ ἐν ἄλλοις Τυδεΐδη μεγάθυμε, τίη γενεὴν ἐρεείνεις; / οἵη περ φύλλων γενεή, τοίη δὲ καὶ ἀνδρῶν. / φύλλα τὰ μὲν τʼ ἄνεμος χαμάδις χέει, ἄλλα δέ / θʼ ὕλη / τηλεθόωσα φύει, ἔαρος δʼ ἐπιγίγνεται ὥρη / ὣς ἀνδρῶν γενεὴ ἡ μὲν φύει ἡ δʼ ἀπολήγει / ταύτῃ δʼ ὅτι καλῶς ἐχρήσατο τῇ εἰκόνι τοῦ ἀνθρωπείου βίου δῆλον ἐξ ὧν ἐν ἄλλῳ τόπῳ φησὶν οὕτω βροτῶν ἕνεκα πτολεμίζω / δειλῶν, οἳ φύλλοισιν ἐοικότες, ἄλλοτε μέν τε / ζαφλεγέες τελέθουσιν ἀρούρης καρπὸν ἔδοντες·, / ἄλλοτε δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἀκήριοι, οὐδέ τις ἀλκὴ / Σιμωνίδης δʼ ὁ τῶν μελῶν ποιητής, Παυσανίου τοῦ βασιλέως τῶν Λακεδαιμονίων μεγαλαυχουμένου συνεχῶς ἐπὶ ταῖς αὑτοῦ πράξεσι καὶ κελεύοντος ἀπαγγεῖλαί τι αὐτῷ σοφὸν μετὰ χλευασμοῦ, συνεὶς αὐτοῦ τὴν ὑπερηφανίαν συνεβούλευε μεμνῆσθαι ὅτι ἄνθρωπός ἐστι· Φίλιππος δʼ ὁ τῶν Μακεδόνων βασιλεὺς τριῶν αὐτῷ προσαγγελθέντων εὐτυχημάτων ὑφʼ καιρόν, πρώτου μὲν ὅτι τεθρίππῳ νενίκηκεν Ὀλύμπια, δευτέρου δʼ ὅτι Παρμενίων ὁ στρατηγὸς μάχῃ Δαρδανεῖς ἐνίκησε, τρίτου δʼ ὅτι ἄρρεν αὐτῷ παιδίον ἐκύησεν Ὀλυμπιάς, ἀνατείνας εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν τὰς χεῖρας ὦ δαῖμον εἶπε, μέτριόν τι τούτοις ἀντίθες ἐλάττωμα, εἰδὼς ὅτι τοῖς μεγάλοις εὐτυχήμασι φθονεῖν πέφυκεν ἡ τύχη. Θηραμένης δʼ ὁ γενόμενος Ἀθήνησι τῶν τριάκοντα τυράννων, συμπεσούσης τῆς οἰκίας ἐν μετὰ πλειόνων ἐδείπνει, μόνος σωθεὶς καὶ πρὸς πάντων εὐδαιμονιζόμενος, ἀναφωνήσας μεγάλῃ τῇ φωνῇ ὦ τύχη εἶπεν, εἰς τίνα με καιρὸν ἄρα φυλάττεις; μετʼ οὐ πολὺν δὲ χρόνον καταστρεβλωθεὶς ὑπὸ τῶν συντυράννων ἐτελεύτησεν.
But the most sovereign remedy against sorrow is our reason, and out of this arsenal we may arm ourselves with defence against all the casualties of life; for every one ought to lay down this as a maxim, that not only is he himself mortal in his nature, but life itself decays, and things are easily changed into quite the contrary to what they are; for our bodies are made up of perishing ingredients. Our fortunes and our passions too are subject to the same mortality; indeed all things in this world are in perpetual flux,— Which no man can avoid with all his care. / It is an expression of Pindar, that we are held to the dark bottom of hell by necessities as hard as iron. And Euripides says:— No worldly wealth is firm and sure; / But for a day it doth endure. / And also:— From small beginnings our misfortunes grow, / And little rubs our feet do overthrow; / A single day is able down to cast / Some things from height, and others raise as fast. / Demetrius Phalereus affirms that this was truly said, but that the poet had been more in the right if for a single day he had put only a moment of time. For earthly fruits and mortal men’s estate / Turn round about in one and selfsame rate; / Some live, wax strong, and prosper day by day, / While others are cast down and fade away. / And Pindar hath it in another place, What are we, what are we not? / Man is but a shadow’s dream. / He used an artificial and very perspicuous hyperbole to draw human life in its genuine colors; for what is weaker than a shadow? Or what words can be found out whereby to express a shadow’s dream? Crantor hath something consonant to this, when, condoling Hippocles upon the loss of his children, he speaks after this manner:—
These are the things which all the old philosophers talk of and have instructed us in; which though we do not agree to in every particular, yet this hath too sharp a truth in it, that our life is painful and full of difficulties; and if it doth not labor with them in its own nature, yet we ourselves have infected it with that corruption. For the inconstancy of Fortune joined us at the beginning of our journey, and hath accompanied us ever since; so that it can produce nothing that is sound or comfortable unto us; and the bitter potion was mingled for us as soon as we were born. For the principles of our nature being mortal is the cause that our judgment is depraved, that diseases, cares, and all those fatal inconveniences afflict mankind.
But what need of this digression? Only that we may be made sensible that it is no unusual thing if a man be unfortunate; but we are all subject to the same calamity. For as Theophrastus saith, Fortune surpriseth us unawares, robs us of those things we have got by the sweat of our industry, and spoils the gaudy appearance of a prosperous condition; and this she doth when she pleaseth, not being stinted to any periods of time. These and things of the like nature it is easy for a man to ponder with himself, and to hearken to the sayings of ancient and wise men; among whom divine Homer is the chief, who sung after this manner:— Of all that breathes or grovelling creeps on earth, / Most man is vain! calamitous by birth: / To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms; / The haughty creature on that power presumes: / Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels; / Untaught to bear, ’gainst Heaven the wretch rebels. / For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe; / Too high when prosperous, when distress’d too low. / And in another place:— What or from whence I am, or who my sire / (Replied the chief), can Tydeus’ son enquire? / Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, / Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; / Another race the following spring supplies; / They fall successive, and successive rise. / So generations in their course decay; / So flourish these, when those are past away. / How prettily he managed this image of human life appears from what he hath said in another place:— For what is man? Calamitous by birth, / They owe their life and nourishment to earth; / Like yearly leaves, that now with beauty crown’d, / Smile on the sun, now wither on the ground. /
When Pausanias the king of Sparta was frequently bragging of his performances, and bidding Simonides the lyric poet in raillery to give him some wise precept, he, knowing the vain-glory of him that spoke, admonished him to remember that he was a man. Philip the king of Macedon, when he had received three despatches of good news at the same time, of which the first was that his chariots had won the victory in the Olympic games, the second, that his general Parmenio had overcome the Dardanians in fight, and the third, that his wife Olympias had brought him forth an heir,—lifting up his eyes to heaven, he passionately cried out, Propitious Daemon! let the affliction be moderate by which thou intendest to be even with me for this complicated happiness. Theramenes, one of the thirty tyrants of Athens, when he alone was preserved from the ruins of a house that fell upon the rest of his friends as they were sitting at supper, and all came about him to congratulate him on his escape,—broke out in an emphatical accent, Fortune! for what calamity dost thou reserve me? And not long after, by the command of his fellow-tyrants, he was tormented to death.
ὑπερφυῶς δὲ φαίνεται περὶ τὴν παραμυθίαν ὁ ποιητὴς εὐδοκιμεῖν, ποιήσας τὸν Ἀχιλλέα λέγοντα πρὸς τὸν Πρίαμον ἥκοντα ἐπὶ λύτρα τοῦ Ἕκτορος ταυτί ἀλλʼ ἄγε δὴ κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζευ ἐπὶ θρόνου, ἄλγεα / δʼ ἔμπης / ἐν θυμῷ κατακεῖσθαι ἐάσομεν ἀχνύμενοί περ / οὐ γάρ τις πρῆξις πέλεται κρυεροῖο γόοιο. / ὣς γὰρ ἐπεκλώσαντο θεοὶ δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι, / ζώειν ἀχνυμένοις· αὐτοὶ δὲ τʼ ἀκηδέες εἰσί. / δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει / δώρων οἷα δίδωσι, κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἐάων. / ᾧ μὲν κʼ ἀμμίξας δώῃ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος, / ἄλλοτε μέν τε κακῷ ὅ γε κύρεται ἄλλοτε δʼ / ἐσθλῷ· / ᾧ δέ κε τῶν λυγρῶν δώῃ, λωβητὸν ἔθηκε / καὶ ἑ κακὴ βούβρωστις ἐπὶ χθόνα δῖαν ἐλαύνει, / φοιτᾷ δʼ οὔτε θεοῖσι τετιμένος οὔτε βροτοῖσιν. / ὁ δὲ μετὰ τοῦτον καὶ τῇ δόξῃ καὶ τῷ χρόνῳ, καίτοι τῶν Μουσῶν ἀναγορεύων ἑαυτὸν μαθητὴν Ἡσίοδος, καὶ οὗτος ἐν πίθῳ καθείρξας τὰ κακά, τὴν Πανδώραν ἀνοίξασαν ἀποφαίνει σκεδάσαι τὸ πλῆθος ἐπὶ πᾶσαν γῆν καὶ θάλατταν, λέγων ὧδε ἀλλὰ γυνὴ χείρεσσι πίθου μέγα πῶμʼ ἀφελοῦσα / ἐσκέδασʼ ἀνθρώποισι δὲ μήσατο κήδεα λυγρά. / μούνη δʼ αὐτόθι Ἐλπὶς ἐν ἀρρήκτοισι δόμοισιν / ἔνδον ἔμεινε πίθου ὑπὸ χείλεσιν, οὐδὲ θύραζε / ἐξέπτη· πρόσθεν γὰρ ἐπέλλαβε πῶμα πίθοιο. / ἄλλα δὲ μυρία λυγρὰ κατʼ ἀνθρώπους ἀλάληται. / πλείη μὲν γὰρ γαῖα κακῶν, / πλείη; δὲ θάλασσα. / νοῦσοι δʼ ἀνθρώποισιν ἐφʼ ἡμέρῃ αἱ δʼ ἐπὶ νυκτὶ / αὐτόματοι φοιτῶσι, κακὰ θνητοῖσι φέρουσαι / σιγῇ, ἐπεὶ φωνὴν ἐξείλετο μητίετα Ζεύς. /
But Homer seems to indicate a particular praise to himself, when he brings in Achilles speaking thus to Priam, who was come forth to ransom the body of Hector:— Rise then; let reason mitigate our care: / To mourn avails not: man is born to bear. / Such is, alas! the Gods’ severe decree: / They, only they, are blest, and only free. / Two urns by Jove’s high throne have ever stood, / The source of evil one, and one of good; / From thence the cup of mortal man he fills, / Blessings to these, to these distributes ills; / To most he mingles both; the wretch decreed / To taste the bad unmix’d is cursed indeed; / Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven, / He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven. /
Hesiod, who was the next to Homer both in respect of time and reputation, and who professed to be a disciple of the Muses, fancied that all evils were shut up in a box, and that Pandora opening it scattered all sorts of mischiefs through both the earth and seas:— The cover of the box she did remove, / And to fly out the crowding mischief strove; / But slender hope upon the brims did stay, / Ready to vanish into air away; / She with retrieve the haggard in did put, / And on the prisoner close the box did shut; / But plagues innumerable abroad did fly, / Infecting all the earth, the seas, and sky, / Diseases now with silent feet do creep, / Torment us waking, and afflict our sleep. / These midnight evils steal without a noise, / For Jupiter deprived them of their voice. /
ἀπηρτημένως δὲ τούτοις ὁ κωμικὸς ἐπὶ τῶν δυσπαθούντων ἐπὶ ταῖς τοιαύταις συμφοραῖς ταυτὶ λέγει εἰ τὰ δάκρυʼ ἡμῖν τῶν κακῶν ἦν φάρμακον, / ἀεὶ θʼ ὁ κλαύσας τοῦ πονεῖν ἐπαύετο, / ἠλλαττόμεσθʼ ἂν δάκρυα, δόντες χρυσίον. / νῦν δʼ οὐ προσέχει τὰ πράγματʼ οὐδʼ ἀποβλέπει / εἰς ταῦτα, δέσποτʼ, ἀλλὰ τὴν αὐτὴν ὁδόν, / ἐάν τε κλάῃς ἄν τε μή, πορεύεται. / τί οὖν ποιεῖς πλέον; οὐδέν· ἡ λύπη δʼ ἔχει / ὥσπερ τὰ δένδρα τοῦτο καρπὸν τὸ δάκρυον. / ὁ δὲ παραμυθούμενος τὴν Δανάην δυσπενθοῦσαν Δίκτυς φησὶ δοκεῖς τὸν ᾍδην σῶν τι φροντίζειν γόων / καὶ παῖδʼ ἀνήσειν τὸν σόν, εἰ θέλοις στένειν; / παῦσαι· βλέπουσα δʼ εἰς τὰ τῶν πέλας κακὰ / ῥᾴων γένοιʼ ἄν, εἰ λογίζεσθαι θέλοις / ὅσοι τε δεσμοῖς ἐμμεμόχλευνται βροτῶν, / ὅσοι τε γηράσκουσιν ὀρφανοί τέκνων, / τοὺς τʼ ἐκ μέγιστον ὀλβίας τυραννίδος / τὸ μηδὲν ὄντας, ταῦτά σε σκοπεῖν χρεών. / κελεύει γὰρ αὐτὴν ἐνθυμεῖσθαι τὰ τῶν ἴσα καὶ μείζω δυστυχούντων, ὡς ἐσομένην ἐλαφροτέραν.
After these the comedian, talking of those who bear afflictions uneasily, speaks consonantly to this purpose:— If we in wet complaints could quench our grief, / At any rate we’d purchase our relief; / With proffered gold would bribe off all our fears, / And make our eyes distil in precious tears. / But the Gods mind not mortals here below, / Nor the least thought on our affairs bestow; / But with an unregarding air pass by, / Whether our cheeks be moist, or whether dry. / Unhappiness is always sorrow’s root, / And tears do hang from them like crystal fruit. / And Dictys comforts Danae, who was bitterly taking on, after this manner:— Dost think that thy repinings move the grave, / Or from its jaws thy dying son can save? / If thou would’st lessen it, thy grief compare;— / Consider how unhappy others are; / How many bonds of slavery do hold; / How many of their children robbed grow old; / How sudden Fate throws off th’ usurped crown, / And in the dirt doth tread the tyrant down. / Let this with deep impression in thee sink, / And on these revolutions often think. / He bids her consider the condition of those who have suffered equal or greater afflictions, and by such a parallel to comfort up her own distempered mind.
ἐνταῦθα γὰρ ἄν τις ἑλκύσειε καὶ τὴν τοῦ Σωκράτους φωνήν, τὴν οἰομένην, εἰ συνεισενέγκαιμεν εἰς τὸ κοινὸν τὰς ἀτυχίας, ὥστε διελέσθαι τὸ ἴσον ἕκαστον, ἀσμένως ἂν τοὺς πλείους τὰς αὑτῶν λαβόντας ἀπελθεῖν. ἐχρήσατο δὲ τῇ τοιαύτῃ ἀγωγῇ καὶ Ἀντίμαχος ὁ ποιητής. ἀποθανούσης γὰρ τῆς γυναικὸς αὐτῷ Λύδης, πρὸς ἣν φιλοστόργως εἶχε, παραμύθιον τῆς λύπης αὑτῷ ἐποίησε τὴν ἐλεγείαν τὴν καλουμένην Λύδην, ἐξαριθμησάμενος τὰς ἡρωικὰς συμφοράς, τοῖς ἀλλοτρίοις κακοῖς ἐλάττω τὴν ἑαυτοῦ ποιῶν λύπην. ὥστε καταφανὲς εἶναι ὅτι ὁ παραμυθούμενος τὸν λελυπημένον καὶ δεικνύων κοινὸν καὶ πολλῶν τὸ συμβεβηκὸς καὶ τῶν καὶ ἑτέροις συμβεβηκότων ἔλαττον τὴν δόξαν τοῦ λελυπημένου μεθίστησι καὶ τοιαύτην τινὰ ποιεῖ πίστιν αὐτῷ, ὅτι ἔλαττον ἢ ἡλίκον ᾤετο τὸ συμβεβηκός ἐστιν.
And here that opinion of Socrates comes in very pertinently, who thought that if all our misfortunes were laid in one common heap, whence every one must take an equal portion, most people would be contented to take their own and depart. After this manner Antimachus the poet allayed his grief when he lost his wife Lyde, whom he tenderly loved; for he writ an elegy upon her, which he called by her own name, and in it he numbered up all the calamities which have befallen great men; and so by the remembrance of other men’s sorrows he assuaged his own. By this it may appear, that he who comforts another who is macerating himself with grief, and demonstrates to him, by reckoning up their several misfortunes, that he suffers nothing but what is common to him with other men, takes the surest way to lessen the opinion he had of his condition, and brings him to believe that it is not altogether so bad as he took it to be.
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