Ch. 13
What solitude is; and what a solitary person.
It is solitude to be in the condition of a helpless
person. For he who is alone is not therefore solitary, any more than one in a crowd is the contrary.
When, therefore, we lose a son, or a brother, or a
friend, on whom we have been used to repose, we
often say we are left solitary, even in the midst of
Rome, where such a crowd is continually meeting
us; where we live among so many, and where we
have, perhaps, a numerous train of servants. For he
is understood to be solitary who is helpless, and exposed to such as would injure him. Hence, in a
journey especially, we call ourselves solitary when we
fall among thieves; for it is not the sight of a man
that removes our solitude, but of an honest man, a
man of honor, and a helpful companion. If merely
being alone is sufficient for solitude, Zeus may be
said to be solitary at the great conflagration,54 and
bewail himself that he hath neither Here, nor Athene,
nor Apollo, nor brother, nor son, nor descendant, nor
relation. This, some indeed say, he doth when he is
alone at the conflagration. Such as these, moved by
some natural principle, some natural desire of society and mutual love, and by the pleasure of conversation, do not rightly consider the state of a person
who is alone. But none the less should we be prepared for this also, to suffice unto ourselves, and to
bear our own company. For as Zeus converses with
himself, acquiesces in himself, and contemplates his
own administration, and is employed in thoughts
worthy of himself; so should we too be able to talk
with ourselves, and not to need the conversation of
others, nor suffer ennui; to attend to the divine administration; to consider our relation to other beings; how we have formerly been affected by events,
how we are affected now; what are the things that
still press upon us; how these too may be cured, how
removed; if anything wants completing, to complete
it according to reason. You perceive that Caesar has
procured us a profound peace; there are neither wars
nor battles, nor great robberies nor piracies; but we
may travel at all hours, and sail from east to west.
But can Caesar procure us peace from a fever too;
from a shipwreck; from a fire; from an earthquake;
from a thunder-storm; nay, even from love? He
cannot. From grief; from envy? No, not from
any one of these. But the doctrine of philosophers promises to procure us peace from these too.
And what doth it say? " If you will attend to me,
O mortals ! wherever you are, and whatever you are
doing, you shall neither grieve, nor be angry, nor be
compelled, nor restrained; but you shall live serene,
and free from all." Shall not he who enjoys this
peace proclaimed, not by Caesar (for how should he
have it to proclaim?), but by God, through Reason, be contented when he is alone, reflecting and
considering, "To me there can now no ill happen;
there is no thier, no earthquake. All is full of peace,
all full of tranquillity; every road, every city, every
assembly, neighbor, companion, is powerless to hurt
me "? Another, whose care it is, provides you with
food, with clothes, with senses, with ideas. Whenever he doth not provide what is necessary, he
sounds a retreat; he opens the door and says to
you, "Come." Whither? To nothing dreadful;
but to that whence you were made, -to what is
friendly and congenial, to the elements. What in
you was fire goes away to fire; what was earth,
to earth; what air, to air; what water, to water.
There is no Hades, nor Acheron, nor Cocytus, nor
Pyriphlegethon; but all is full of gods and divine
beings. He who can have such thoughts, and can
look upon the sun, moon, and stars, and enjoy the
earth and sea, is no more solitary than he is helpless.
"Well; but suppose any one should come and murder me when I am alone." Foolish man! - not you,
but that insignificant body of yours.
What solitude is there then left; what destitution? Why do we make ourselves worse than children? What do they do when they are left alone?
They take up shells and dust; they build houses,
then pull them down; then build something else;
and thus never want amusement. Suppose you were
all to sail away; am I to sit and cry because I am
left alone and solitary? Am I so unprovided with
shells and dust? But children do this from folly;
and shall we be wretched through wisdom?
Every great gift is dangerous to a beginner. Study
first how to live like a person in sickness; that in time
you may know how to live like one in health. Abstain from food. Drink water. Totally repress your
desire for some time, that you may at length use it
according to reason; and if so, when you are stronger
in virtue, you will use it well. No; but we would
live immediately as men already wise, and be of service to mankind. Of what service? What are you
doing? Why, have you been of so much service to
yourself that you would exhort them? You exhort!
Would you be of service to them, show them by your
own example what kind of men philosophy makes,
and do not trifle. When you eat, be of service to
those who eat with you; when you drink, to those
who drink with you. Be of service to them by giving way to all, yielding to them, bearing with them;
and not by venting upon them your own ill-humor.