Book 4, Chapter 27

58 “But since I suspect that you are asking not so much about the wise person as about yourself—you think he is free of every disturbance, and you want to be—let us see how powerful are the remedies applied <by> philosophy to diseases of the soul. Certainly there is a medicine for them. Nature has not been so hostile and unfriendly to the human race as to discover so many healing things for bodies and none for souls. Indeed, she has treated souls still better in this respect: bodily remedies are applied from outside, but the soul’s health is enclosed within itself. Yet the greater and more divine their excellence, the greater the care they need. Reason, properly applied, discerns what is best; neglected, it becomes entangled in many errors.

59 “So I must now turn my entire discourse toward you. You pretend to be asking about the wise person, but perhaps you are asking about yourself.

“There are, then, different treatments for the disturbances I have described. Not all distress is calmed by one method: the mourner needs one medicine, the person feeling pity or envy another. With all four disturbances there is also this distinction: is it better to address disturbance in general, which is a rejection of reason or an excessively strong impulse, or particular disturbances, such as fear, lust, and the rest? And should we show that the thing which occasioned distress ought not to seem distressing, or should distress about anything at all be entirely removed? If someone is distressed at being poor, for example, should you argue that poverty is not an evil, or that a person ought not to be distressed by anything? Clearly the latter is better, lest, if you fail to persuade him about poverty, you have to concede the case for distress. But once distress has been removed by the arguments appropriate to it, which we used yesterday, even the evil of poverty is in a sense removed.”

58 “Still, your real question, I suspect, concerns yourself rather than the wise. You already believe the wise person has no disturbances; you want that freedom for yourself. Let’s examine how much philosophy’s treatments can do for mental diseases. A medicine for them certainly exists. Nature wasn’t so cruel an enemy to humanity as to provide a host of bodily remedies and leave minds with none. Indeed, she did better by the mind in this respect: bodily remedies have to come from outside, but minds contain their own means of recovery. Yet their higher, more divine excellence calls for correspondingly greater attention. Used carefully, reason discerns the best course; left unattended, it gets caught in a tangle of errors.

59 “Now, then, I must turn my whole talk toward you. You pretend to be asking about a wise person, but perhaps you’re asking about yourself.

“Different disturbances in my account call for different cures. One approach won’t soothe every distress: grief, pity, and envy each need a different medicine. For all four disturbances we must also decide between addressing the whole category—rejection of reason, or excessive impulse—and addressing its individual members, fear, craving, and the others. Another choice is whether to show that the particular cause of distress doesn’t deserve distress, or to rule distress out whatever its cause. If poverty upsets someone, for instance, do you argue against poverty’s being an evil, or against being upset about anything at all? The latter is plainly preferable. Failing to convince them about poverty would otherwise force you to allow distress. Remove distress with the arguments specifically suited to it, the ones we used yesterday, and in a sense you remove poverty’s evil too.”