much less vexation in the government of a private family
than in managing a state. Wheresoever the mind is buried, there lies
all. And though domestic occupations may be less important, they are not
less importunate.

Moreover, though we have freed ourselves from court or from market, we
have still the torments of ambition, avarice, irresolution, fear, and
unsatisfied desires. These follow us even into cloisters and schools of
philosophy. When Socrates was told that a certain man was none the
better for his travels, "I believe it well," said he, "for he took
himself with him."

If a man do not first get rid of what burthens his mind, moving from
place to place will not help him. It is not enough for a man to
sequester himself from people; he must seclude himself from himself. We
carry our fetters with us. Our evil is rooted in our mind, and the mind
cannot escape from itself. Therefore must it be reduced and brought into
itself, and that is the true solitariness, which may be enjoyed even in
the throng of peopled cities or kings' courts.

A man may, if he can, have wife, children, goods, health, but not so tie
himself to them that his felicity depends on them. We should reserve for
ourselves some place where we may, as it were, hoard up our true
liberty. Virtue is contented with itself, without discipline, words, or
deeds. Shake we off these violent holdfasts which engage us and estrange
us from ourselves. The greatest thing is for a man to know how to be his
own.

I esteem not Arcesilaus, the philosopher, less reformed because I know
him to have used household utensils of gold and silver, as the condition
of his fortune permitted. And knowing what slender hold accessory
comforts have, I omit not, in enjoying them, humbly to beseech God of
His mercy to make me content with myself and the goods I have in myself.
The wiser sort of men, having a strong and vigorous mind, may frame for
themselves an altogether spiritual life. But mine being common, I must
help to uphold myself by corporal comforts. And age having despoiled me
of some of these, I sharpen my appetite for those remaining. Glory,
which Pliny and Cicero propose to us, is far from my thoughts. "Glory
and rest are things that cannot squat on the same bench." Stay your mind
in assured and limited cogitations, wherein it best may please itself,
and having gained knowledge of true felicities, enjoy them, and rest
satisfied without wishing a further continuance ei