The Anatomy of Melancholy

What you seek so earnestly is at hand, already at home. But—

If only that neighbouring corner could be added, Which now spoils the shape of my little farm!

If only I had that one corner of land, that field over there, that pasture!

If only someone might show me a vein of silver!

If only I could find a pot of money now, to buy property, build a new house, marry off my daughter, find my son a position, and so on! If only I could live a little longer to see everything settled—two or three years—I would pay my debts and balance all my accounts. But those years have come and gone, and you have more business than before. What madness to think you can settle things in old age, when you have more, if you cannot put them in order now, in youth, with only a little!

Pyrrhus intended first to conquer Africa, then Asia, “and then live pleasantly”—then live merrily and take his ease. But when Cineas the orator told him that he could do so already, “that it could be done now,” he rested content, condemning his own folly. “If small things may be compared with great,” you may do the same; so be at peace with your fortune.

You have enough. A man wet in a bath can be no wetter if thrown into the Tiber, or into the ocean itself. If you possessed the whole world, or a solid mass of gold as large as the world, you could not have more than enough. At last enjoy your life and what you have. The mind is everything. Be content: you are rich, not poor, and richer, as Censorinus aptly wrote to Cerellius, “the fewer things you wish for, not the more you possess”—by wanting less, not having more.

I say, then, “Do not add riches; reduce your desires”—Epicurus’s advice. Add no more wealth, but diminish your wants. Chrysostom aptly supports him: “If you want to become rich, despise riches.” True abundance consists in not needing wealth, rather than having it: “Not possessing, but not needing, is true abundance.” There is more glory in despising riches than in possessing them; “and to need nothing belongs to the gods.”

How many people could I list who are deaf, unable to speak, limping, lame, blind, or miserable—poor and afflicted as well? People imprisoned or banished, galley slaves, people condemned to mines, quarries, shackles, dungeons, lifelong bondage. You are richer and happier than all of them; you can give them charity. Compared with them, you are a lord, a minor prince. Be content, then, I say; grumble and mutter no more, for you are poor in your own estimation, not in fact.