ld Roman, M. Crassus, who, as Lucilius says, never smiled
but once in his lifetime, was not of this kind, but placid and serene, for
so we are told. He, indeed, might well have had the same look at all times
who never changed his mind, from which the countenance derives its
expression. So that I am ready to borrow of the Cyrenaics those arms
against the accidents and events of life, by means of which, by long
premeditation, they break the force of all approaching evils; and at the
same time, I think that those very evils themselves arise more from
opinion than nature, for, if they were real, no forecast could make them
lighter. But I shall speak more particularly on these matters after I have
first considered Epicurus's opinion, who thinks that all people must
necessarily be uneasy who believe themselves to be in any evils, let them
be either foreseen and expected, or habitual to them; for, with him, evils
are not the less by reason of their continuance, nor the lighter for
having been foreseen; and it is folly to ruminate on evils to come, or
such as, perhaps, never may come; every evil is disagreeable enough when
it does come; but he who is constantly considering that some evil may
befal him, is loading himself with a perpetual evil, and even should such
evil never light on him, he voluntarily takes upon himself unnecessary
misery, so that he is under constant uneasiness, whether he actually
suffers any evil, or only thinks of it. But he makes the alleviation of
grief depend on two things, a ceasing to think on evil, and a turning to
the contemplation of pleasure. For he thinks that the mind may possibly be
under the power of reason, and follow her directions; he forbids us,
therefore, to mind trouble, and calls us off from sorrowful reflections:
he throws a mist over our eyes to hinder us from the contemplation of
misery. Having sounded a retreat from this statement, he drives our
thoughts on again, and encourages them to view and engage the whole mind
in the various pleasures with which he thinks the life of a wise man
abounds, either from reflecting on the past, or from the hope of what is
to come. I have said these things in my own way, the Epicureans have
theirs: however, let us examine what they say; how they say it is of
little consequence.

XVI. In the first place, they are wrong in forbidding men to premeditate
on futurity, and blaming their wish to do so; for there is nothing that
breaks the edge of grief and