Tap the page, move to the top or bottom edge, swipe down, or press Tab to reveal reading controls. Use the arrow keys or swipe sideways to turn pages.
Many a person would think himself in heaven, a little prince, if he possessed even the smallest part of the fortune you so resent, abhor, and consider utterly wretched. How many thousands lack what you have! How many tens of thousands of poor slaves and captives, people working day and night in coal pits and tin mines, toiling painfully for a poor living, labouring in body and mind, live in extreme anguish and pain—from all of which you are free! “How fortunate they are, if only they knew their blessings!” You are very happy, if only you could be content and acknowledge your happiness.
“We learn a thing’s worth by lacking it, not by enjoying it.” When you later lack what you now loathe, abhor, and find wearisome, once it has gone you will say how happy you were. After missing it even briefly, you will wish with all your heart to have the same contentment again, to lead just such a life. You would give the world for such a life; even remembering it is pleasant.
Be silent, then, and remain content: “Stop, and comfort your mind by looking at other people’s misfortunes.” Console yourself with others’ troubles. As Aesop’s mole told the fox, who complained of having no tail, and his other companions, “Be quiet, when you see that I have lost my sight.” You complain of trifles, but I am blind: be quiet. I say to you: be content.
The story tells how the hares, conscious of their misery, all agreed to go and drown themselves. But when they saw a group of frogs more frightened than themselves, they began to recover their courage and comfort. Compare your situation with others’: “Look at similar misfortunes in others, and you will bear your own more calmly.” Be content and satisfied, for you are well off compared with others.
Be thankful for what you have and what God has done for you. He has not made you a monster, a beast, or a lowly creature, as he might have done, but a human being, a Christian, the person you are. Consider it properly: you are very well as you are.
“No one can have whatever he wants”: no one can have everything he wishes. “He can choose not to want what he does not have”: he can decide whether to desire what he lacks. Your lot has fallen; make the best of it. If we all slept all the time, as Endymion is said to have done, who would be happier than anyone else? Our life is short, a mere dream; while we look around, “immortality is upon us”—eternity is at hand.
Our life is a pilgrimage on earth, which wise people travel with great cheerfulness. If you are in distress, sorrow, want, pain, or sickness, remember our Apostle’s words: God disciplines those he loves. “Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy,” Psalm 126:6. “As the furnace tests the potter’s vessel, so trials test people’s thoughts,” Ecclesiasticus 25:5. It is for your good: “You would have perished had you not perished.” Had you not suffered such an affliction, you would have been utterly ruined. As gold is tested in fire, so people are tested in adversity.
“Affliction enriches.” Camerarius has aptly represented this in an emblem of a thresher and grain:
Without threshing, the grain lies hidden in the chaff; The cross separates us from the world’s chaff.
As threshing separates the grain from straw, Afflictions carry us from the world’s chaff.
Chrysostom says the very same thing in his second homily on Matthew 3: grain is separated only by threshing, and people from worldly hindrances only by affliction. This is what Cyprian repeats in his fourth sermon, On Immortality; what Jerome and all the Fathers impress upon us: in this way we are instructed for eternity. The proverb implies the same: “A hurt is a lesson.” It is what the whole world keeps ringing in our ears.
“God has one son without sin, none without the scourge”: God, says Augustine, has one son without sin, none without correction. A skilled sailor is tested in a storm, a runner in a race, a commander in battle, a brave man in adversity, and a Christian in temptation and misery—Basil, homily 8. We are sent into this world as soldiers, to struggle against the world, the flesh, and the devil. Our life is warfare: who does not know it?
“There is no easy road from earth to the stars.” Perhaps, therefore, this world has been made troublesome for us so that, as Gregory observes, we should not be delighted with the journey and forget where we are going.
Go now, brave souls, where the lofty path Of a great example leads. Why turn your backs In cowardly flight? Earth, once overcome, Grants you the stars.
Go cheerfully on, then, towards heaven. If the way is troublesome and you suffer misery and many grievances, you also have pleasant amusements and sights, sweet smells, delightful tastes, music, food, herbs, flowers, and much else to refresh your senses.
Or suppose the world has now forsaken, cast down, and despised you. Still, take comfort in what was said to Hagar in the wilderness: God sees you; he takes notice of you. There is a God above who can vindicate your cause and bring you relief.
Indeed, Seneca thinks that he takes pleasure in watching you. The gods are pleased to see great men contending with adversity, just as we enjoy watching men fight, or a man fight a beast. But those are trifles by comparison. “Behold,” he says, “a spectacle worthy of God: a good man content with his condition.” The ancients held that a tyrant was the best sacrifice to Jupiter; the finest sight for him is a contented mind.
For your part, then, remain content. Cast all your care and your burden upon him; rely on him, trust him, and he will sustain you, care for you, and give you your heart’s desire. Say with David, “God is our hope and strength, ready to be found in trouble,” Psalm 46:1. For those who trust in the Lord shall be like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, Psalm 124:1–2; as the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people, now and forever.