and day, "and burns without a torch, and consigns
him to gloomy old age,"[216] being a disagreeable fellow-traveller owing
to its arrogance, and a costly companion at table owing to its
daintiness, and an unpleasant bed-fellow, disturbing and marring sleep
by anxiety and care and envy. For during such a one's sleep the body
indeed gets rest, but the mind has terrors, and dreams, and
perturbations, owing to superstition,

"For when my trouble catches me asleep,
I am undone by the most fearful dreams,"

as one says. For thus envy, and fear, and anger, and lust affect one.
During the daytime, indeed, vice looks abroad and imitates the behaviour
of others, is shy and conceals its evil desires, and does not altogether
give way to its propensities, but often even resists and fights stoutly
against them; but in sleep it escapes the observation of people and the
law, and, being as far as possible removed from fear or modesty, gives
every passion play, and excites its depravity and licentiousness, for,
to borrow Plato's expression,[217] "it attempts incest with its mother,
and procures for itself unlawful meats, and abstains from no action
whatever," and enjoys lawlessness as far as is practicable in visions
and phantasies, that end in no complete pleasure or satisfaction, but
can only stir up and inflame the passions and morbid emotions.

Sec. III. Where then is the pleasure of vice, if there is nowhere in it
freedom from anxiety and pain, or independence, or tranquillity, or
rest?[218] A healthy and sound constitution does indeed augment the
pleasures of the body, but for the soul there can be no lasting joy or
gratification, unless cheerfulness and fearlessness and courage supply a
calm serenity free from storms; for otherwise, even if hope or delight
smile on the soul, it is soon confused and disturbed by care lifting up
its head again, so that it is but the calm of a sunken rock.

Sec. IV. Pile up gold, heap up silver, build covered walks, fill your house
with slaves and the town with debtors, unless you lay to rest the
passions of the soul, and put a curb on your insatiable desires, and rid
yourself of fear and anxiety, you are but pouring out wine for a man in
a fever, and giving honey to a man who is bilious, and laying out a
sumptuous banquet for people who are suffering from dysentery, and can
neither retain their food nor get any benefit from it, but are made even
worse by it. Have you never observed how sick