CHAPTER V.

THE FORCE OF PRECEPTS.

There seems to be so near an affinity betwixt _wisdom_, _philosophy_,

and _good counsels_, that it is rather matter of curiosity than of

profit to divide them; _philosophy_, being only a _limited wisdom_;

and _good counsels a communication of that wisdom_, for the good of

_others_, as well as of _ourselves_; and to _posterity_, as well as to

the _present_. The _wisdom_ of the _ancients_, as to the government of

life, was no more than certain precepts, what to do and what not: and

men were much better in that simplicity; for as they came to be more

_learned_, they grew less careful of being _good_. That _plain_ and

_open virtue_ is now turned into a _dark_ and _intricate science_; and

we are taught to _dispute_ rather than to _live_. So long as wickedness

was simple, simple remedies also were sufficient against it; but now it

has taken root, and spread, we must make use of stronger.

There are some dispositions that embrace good things as soon as they

hear them; but they will still need quickening by admonition and

precept. We are rash and forward in some cases, and dull in others;

and there is no repressing of the one humor, or raising of the other,

but by removing the causes of them; which are (in one word) _false

admiration_ and _false fear_.

Every man knows his duty to his country, to his friends, to his

guests; and yet when he is called upon to draw his sword for the one,

or to labor for the other, he finds himself distracted betwixt his

apprehensions and his delights: he knows well enough the injury he

does his wife in the keeping of a wench, and yet his lust overrules

him: so that it is not enough to give good advice, unless we can take

away that which hinders the benefit of it. If a man does what he ought

to do, he will never do it constantly or equally, without knowing why

he does it: and if it be only chance or custom, he that does well by

chance, may do ill so too. And farther, a precept may direct us what

we _ought_ to do, and yet fall short in the manner of doing it: an

expensive entertainment may, in one case be extravagance or gluttony,

and yet a point of honor and discretion in another. Tiberius Cæsar had

a huge _mullet_ presented him, which he sent to the market to be sold:

“and now,” says he, “my masters,” to some company with him, “you shall

see that either Apicius or Octavius will be the chapman for this fish.”

Octavius beat the price, and gave about thirty pounds sterling for it.

Now, there was a great difference between Octavius, that bought it for

his luxury, and the _other_ that purchased it for a _compliment_ to

Tiberius. Precepts are idle, if we be not first taught what opinion

we are to have of the matter in question; whether it be _poverty_,

_riches_, _disgrace_, _sickness_, _banishment_, etc. Let us therefore

examine them one by one; not what they are _called_, but what in truth

they _are_. And so for the _virtues_; it is to no purpose to set a high

esteem upon prudence, _fortitude_, _temperance_, _justice_, if we do

not first know _what virtue is_; whether _one_ or _more_; or if he

that has _one_, has _all_; or _how they differ_.

Precepts are of great weight; and a few useful ones at hand do more

toward a happy life than whole volumes or cautions, that we know not

where to find. These salutary precepts should be our daily meditation,

for they are the rules by which we ought to square our lives. When they

are contracted into _sentences_, they strike the _affections_: whereas

_admonition_ is only _blowing_ of the _coal_; it moves the vigor of the

mind, and excites virtue: we have the thing already, but we know not

where it lies. It is by precept that the understanding is nourished

and augmented: the offices of prudence and justice are guided by them,

and they lead us to the execution of our duties. A _precept_ delivered

in _verse_ has a much greater effect than in _prose_: and those very

people that never think they have enough, let them but hear a sharp

sentence against _avarice_, how will they clap and admire it, and bid

open defiance to money? So soon as we find the affections struck, we

must follow the blow; not with _syllogisms_ or quirks of _wit_; but

with _plain_ and _weighty reason_ and we must do it with _kindness_

too, and _respect_ for “there goes a blessing along with counsels and

discourses that are bent wholly upon the good of the hearer:” and

those are still the most efficacious that take reason along with them;

and tell us as well why we are to do this or that, as _what_ we are

to do: for some understandings are weak, and need an instructor to

expound to them what is good and what is evil. It is a great virtue

to _love_, to _give_, and to _follow good counsel_; if it does not

_lead_ us to honesty, it does at least _prompt_ us to it. As several

parts make up but one harmony, and the most agreeable music arises

from discords; so should a wise man gather many acts, many precepts,

and the examples of many arts, to inform his own life. Our forefathers

have left us in charge to avoid three things; _hatred_, _envy_, and

_contempt_; now, it is hard to avoid envy and not incur _contempt_;

for in taking too much care not to usurp upon others, we become many

times liable to be trampled upon ourselves. Some people are afraid of

others, because it is possible that others may be afraid of them: but

let us secure ourselves upon all hands; for _flattery_ is as dangerous

as _contempt_. It is not to say, in case of admonition, I knew this

before, for we know many things, but we do not think of them; so that

it is the part of a _monitor_, not so much to _teach_ as to _mind_ us

of our duties. Sometimes a man oversees that which lies just under his

nose; otherwhile he is careless, or _pretends_ not to see it: we do all

know that friendship is sacred, and yet we violate it; and the greatest

libertine expects that his own wife should be honest.

Good counsel is the most needful service that we can do to mankind;

and if we give it to _many_, it will be sure to profit _some_: for of

many trials, some or other will undoubtedly succeed. He that places

a man in the possession of himself does a great thing; for wisdom

does not show itself so much in precept as in life; in a firmness of

mind and a mastery of appetite: it teaches us to _do_ as well as to

_talk_: and to make our words and actions all of a color. If that fruit

be pleasantest which we gather from a tree of our own planting, how

much greater delight shall we take in the growth and increase of good

manners of our own forming! It is an eminent mark of wisdom for a man

to be always like himself. You shall have some that keep a thrifty

table, and lavish out upon building; profuse upon themselves, and

forbid to others; niggardly at home, and lavish abroad. This diversity

is vicious, and the effect of a dissatisfied and uneasy mind; whereas

every wise man lives by rule. This disagreement of purposes arises

from hence, either that we do not propound to ourselves what we would

be at; or if we do, that we do not pursue it, but pass from one thing

to another; and we do not only _change_ neither but return to the very

thing which we had both quitted and condemned.

In all our undertakings, let us first examine our own strength; the

enterprise next; and, thirdly, the persons with whom we have to do. The

first point is most important; for we are apt to overvalue ourselves,

and reckon that we can do more than indeed we can. One man sets up

for a speaker, and is out as soon as he opens his mouth; another

overcharges his estate, perhaps, or his body: a bashful man is not

fit for public business: some again are too stiff and peremptory for

the court: many people are apt to fly out in their anger, nay, and in

a frolic too; if any sharp thing fall in their way, they will rather

venture a neck than lose a jest. These people had better be quiet in

the world than busy. Let him that is naturally choleric and impatient

avoid all provocations, and those affairs also that multiply and draw

on more; and those also from which there is no retreat. When we may

come off at pleasure, and fairly hope to bring our matters to a period,

it is well enough. If it so happen that a man be tied up to business,

which he can neither loosen nor break off, let him imagine those

shackles upon his mind to be irons upon his legs: they are troublesome

at first; but when there is no remedy but patience, custom makes them

easy to us, and necessity gives us courage. We are all slaves to

fortune: some only in loose and golden chains, others in strait ones,

and coarser: nay, and _they that bind us are slaves too themselves_;

some to honor, others to wealth; some to offices, and others to

contempt; some to their superiors, others to themselves: nay, life

itself is a servitude: let us make the best of it then, and with our

philosophy mend our fortune. Difficulties may be softened, and heavy

burdens disposed of to our ease. Let us covet nothing out of our reach,

but content ourselves with things hopeful and at hand; and without

envying the advantages of others; for greatness stands upon a craggy

precipice, and it is much safer and quieter living upon a level. How

many great men are forced to keep their station upon mere necessity;

because they find there is no coming down from it but headlong? These

men should do well to fortify themselves against ill consequences by

such virtues and meditations as may make them less solicitous for the

future. The surest expedient in this case is to bound our desires, and

to leave nothing to fortune which we may keep in our own power. Neither

will this course wholly compose us, but it shows us at worst the end of

our troubles.

It is but a main point to take care that we propose nothing but what is

hopeful and honest. For it will be equally troublesome to us, either

not to succeed, or to be ashamed of the success. Wherefore let us be

sure not to admit any ill design into our heart; that we may lift up

pure hands to heaven and ask nothing which another shall be a loser by.

Let us pray for a good mind, which is a wish to no man’s injury. I

will remember always that I am a man, and then consider, that if I am

_happy_, it will not last _always_; if _unhappy_, I may be _other_ if

I please. I will carry my life in my hand, and deliver it up readily

when it shall be called for. I will have a care of being a slave to

myself; for it is a perpetual, a shameful, and the heaviest of all

servitudes: and this may be done by moderate desires. I will say to

myself, “What is it that I labor, sweat, and solicit for, when it is

but very little that I want, and it will not be long that I will need

any thing?” He that would make a trial of the firmness of his mind, let

him set certain days apart for the practice of his virtues. Let him

mortify himself with fasting, coarse clothes, and hard lodging; and

then say to himself, “Is this the thing now that I was afraid of?” In a

state of security, a man may thus prepare himself against hazards, and

in plenty fortify himself against want. If you will have a man resolute

when he comes to the push, train him up to it beforehand. The soldier

does duty in peace, that he may be in breath when he comes to battle.

How many great and wise men have made experiment of their moderation

by a practice of abstinence, to the highest degree of hunger and

thirst; and convinced themselves that a man may fill his belly without

being beholden to fortune; which never denies any of us wherewith to

satisfy our necessities, though she be never so angry! It is as easy

to _suffer_ it _always_ as to _try_ it _once_; and it is no more than

thousands of servants and poor people do every day in their lives. He

that would live happily, must neither trust to good fortune nor submit

to bad: he must stand upon his guard against all assaults; he must

stick to himself, without any dependence upon other people. Where

the mind is tinctured with philosophy, there is no place for grief,

anxiety, or superfluous vexations. It is prepossessed with virtue to

the neglect of fortune, which brings us to a degree of security not

to be disturbed. It is easier to give counsel than to take it; and

a common thing for one choleric man to condemn another. We may be

sometimes earnest in advising, but not violent or tedious. Few words,

with gentleness and efficacy, are best: the misery is, that the wise

do not need counsel, and fools will not take it. A good man, it is

true, delights in it; and it is a mark of folly and ill-nature to hate

reproof.

To a friend I would be always frank and plain; and rather fail in the

success than be wanting in the matter of faith and trust. There are

some precepts that serve in common both to the rich and poor, but they

are too general; as “Cure your avarice, and the work is done.” It is

one thing not to desire money, and another thing not to understand

how to use it. In the choice of the persons we have to do withal, we

should see that they be worth our while; in the choice of our business,

we are to consult nature, and follow our inclinations. He that gives

sober advice to a witty droll must look to have every thing turned into

ridicule. “As if you philosophers,” says Marcellinus, “did not love

your whores and your guts as well as other people:” and then he tells

you of such and such that were taken in the manner. We are all sick, I

must confess, and it is not for sick men to play the physicians; but

it is yet lawful for a man in an hospital to discourse of the common

condition and distempers of the place. He that should pretend to teach

a madman how to speak, walk, and behave himself, were not he the most

mad man of the two? He that directs the pilot, makes him move the

helm, order the sails so or so, and makes the best of a scant wind,

after this or that manner. And so should we do in our counsels.

Do not tell me what a man should do in health or poverty, but show

me the way to be either sound or rich. Teach me to master my vices:

for it is to no purpose, so long as I am under their government, to

tell me what I must do when I am clear of it. In case of an avarice a

little eased, a luxury moderated, a temerity restrained, a sluggish

humor quickened; precepts will then help us forward, and tutor us how

to behave ourselves. It is the first and the main tie of a soldier his

military oath, which is an engagement upon him both of religion and

honor. In like manner, he that pretends to a happy life must first lay

a foundation of virtue, as a bond upon him, to live and die true to

that cause. We do not find felicity in the veins of the earth where we

dig for gold, nor in the bottom of the sea where we fish for pearls,

but in a pure and untainted mind, which, if it were not holy, were not

fit to entertain the Deity. “He that would be truly happy, must think

his own lot best, and so live with men, as considering that God sees

him, and so speak to God as if men heard him.”

Seneca's Morals of a Happy Life, Benefits, Anger and Clemency · 第 5 / 26 章