As regards tranquillity of mind, we must understand that the evils which torment us arise not so much from things themselves as from the opinion we have of them. This is what the old philosopher grasped well when he said that men are not troubled by events, but by the judgments they pass upon events. For he who imagines poverty to be an affliction distresses his fortune with a thousand regrets, while he who views it as a light and unburdened condition draws from it a certain joy; for he sees in it the absence of envy, the absence of vain glory, the absence of suspicion and of flattery. Thus the same object appears at one time heavy and at another light, according to the eye that beholds it.

We see men who, having contracted the habit of frequenting the houses of the rich, of seeing their grand processions and their magnificent equipages, come to despise everything they themselves possess, and, like people afflicted with a disease of the eyes, regard their own goods as if they were dim and tarnished. This evil must be cured by the opposite comparison: let us think of those who are more unfortunate than we are, not out of jealousy nor out of pleasure in their misery, but so that, seeing how many people bear heavier burdens, we may bear ours more lightly. For nature has given man a tendency to complain of what he lacks, forgetting to count what he has; hence it is good always to have before our eyes, as supplements to our wealth, not the goods of others, but the misfortunes of others.

He who desires many things is poor, not in the condition of his fortune, but in that of his desire. For poverty consists not in the smallness of one's possessions, but in the greatness of one's appetite: one is poor when desire exceeds one's power, and rich when power equals desire. Hence the fool endlessly laments the absence of what he does not have, while the wise man enjoys the presence of what he has, and rejoices in what happens as coming from his own house. He does not consider fortune a stern master, but a light guest: if she stays, he welcomes her; if she departs, he does not pursue her, nor does he rejoice to see her return, for he knows that she brings more pride than advantage.

But someone will perhaps say that such counsels are easy to give and hard to follow. We shall answer that this is the common excuse of the idle, who, for this reason, never set their hand to the work. It is as if a sick man refused remedies on the ground that they would not cure him at once. The health of the soul is not acquired in a day, nor by mere wishing; it must be cultivated like a field, first sown, then watered, and finally harvested. If we scorn the small share because we cannot have the great one, we shall never have anything at all.

Consider that nature does nothing in vain; she gave man reason not to grieve over what he lacks, but to discern what is useful to him. He therefore who spends his time in affliction over absent things acts like a man who, aboard a ship, would turn the helm toward the wind and the waves instead of toward the harbour. For reason is the helm of the soul; we must keep it directed not toward what escapes us, but toward what is our own.

There is yet another thing that the afflicted should remember: that outward goods are no more ours than the garments we wear; they can be taken from us by time, by fortune, by the violence of others. He therefore who would be tranquil must not attach his heart to what can be taken from him, but must set it upon what abides within him: wisdom, justice, moderation, greatness of soul. These are riches that no tyrant can seize, no treasury buy, and no vice corrupt.

He therefore who shall pass his life rejoicing in what befalls him, without envy of what he lacks or pride in what he possesses, shall have a tranquil soul; and if he does not become wholly free from sorrow, at least he will be delivered from it to the greatest extent granted to a man to attain. For there is no greater disorder than to be the slave of one's desires, and no greater freedom than to live according to reason.