of others, but even the love of tranquillity, of leisure, of change of
scene--of learning in general, it matters not what the outward thing
may be--to set store by it is to place thyself in subjection to another.
Where is the difference then between desiring to be a Senator, and
desiring not to be one: between thirsting for office and thirsting to
be quit of it? Where is the difference between crying, Woe is me, I know
not what to do, bound hand and foot as I am to my books so that I cannot
stir! and crying, Woe is me, I have not time to read! As though a book
were not as much an outward thing and independent of the will, as office
and power and the receptions of the great.

Or what reason hast thou (tell me) for desiring to read? For if thou
aim at nothing beyond the mere delight of it, or gaining some scrap of
knowledge, thou art but a poor, spiritless knave. But if thou desirest
to study to its proper end, what else is this than a life that flows on
tranquil and serene? And if thy reading secures thee not serenity, what
profits it?--"Nay, but it doth secure it," quoth he, "and that is why I
repine at being deprived of it."--And what serenity is this that lies at
the mercy of every passer-by? I say not at the mercy of the Emperor or
Emperor's favorite, but such as trembles at a raven's croak and piper's
din, a fever's touch or a thousand things of like sort! Whereas the
life serene has no more certain mark than this, that it ever moves with
constant unimpeded flow.




CXLVI

If thou hast put malice and evil speaking from thee, altogether, or