Quod Deterius Potiori Insidiari Soleat

for, as the proverb is, they leave no stone unturned, saying, Is not the body the house of the soul? Why, then, should we not take care of the house that it may not become ruinous? Are not the eyes and the ears, and all the company of the other outward senses, guards, as it were, and friends of the soul? Ought we not, then, to honour men’s friends and allies equally with themselves? And has nature made pleasures and enjoyments, and all the delights which are spread over the whole of life for the dead, or for those who have never even had any existence at all, and not rather for those who are alive? And what ought we not to do to procure for ourselves riches, and glory, and honours, and authority, and all other things of that sort, which are the only means of living not only safely, but happily?

And the life of these men is a proof of this. For they who are called lovers of virtue are nearly all of them men inglorious, easily to be despised, lowly, in need of necessary things, more dishonourable than subjects, or even than slaves, sordid, pale, cadaverous-looking, bearing want and hunger in their countenances, full of diseases, men who would be glad to die. But those who take care of themselves are men of reputation, rich, leaders, men in the enjoyment of praise and honour; moreover, they are healthy, stout, and vigorous; living delicately, nursed in luxury, strangers to labour, living in the constant company of pleasure, and using all their outward senses to bring delights to the soul, which is capable of receiving them all.