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4 On idleness

1. Just as fallow lands, when rich and fertile, are seen to abound in hundreds and thousands of different kinds of useless weeds so that, if we would make them do their duty, we must subdue them and keep them busy with seeds specifically sown for our service; and just as women left alone may sometimes be seen to produce shapeless lumps of flesh but need to be kept busy by a semen other than her own in order to produce good natural offspring: so too with our minds. If we do not keep them busy with some particular subject which can serve as a bridle to reign them in, they charge ungovernably about, ranging to and fro over the wastelands of our thoughts:

Sicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis

Sole repercussum, aut radiantis imagine Lunae

Omnia pervolitat late loca jamque sub auras

Erigitur, summique ferit laquearia tecti.

[As when ruffled water in a bronze pot reflects the light of the sun and the shining face of the moon, sending shimmers flying high into the air and striking against the panelled ceilings].

2. Then, there is no madness, no raving lunacy, which such agitations do not bring forth:

velut aegri somnia, vanae

Finguntur species.

[they fashion vain apparitions as in the dreams of sick men.]

When the soul is without a definite aim she gets lost; for, as they say, if you are everywhere you are nowhere.

Quisquis ubique habitat, Maxime, nusquam habitat.

[Whoever dwells everywhere, Maximus, dwells nowhere at all.]

3. Recently I retired to my estates, determined to devote myself as far as I could to spending what little life I have left quietly and privately; it seemed to me then that the greatest favour I could do for my mind was to leave it in total idleness, caring for itself, concerned only with itself, calmly thinking of itself. I hoped it could do that more easily from then on, since with the passage of time it had grown mature and put on weight.

4. But I find -

Variam semper dant otia mentis

[Idleness always produces fickle changes of mind].

- that on the contrary it bolted off like a runaway horse, taking far more trouble over itself than it ever did over anyone else; it gives birth to so many chimeras and fantastic monstrosities, one after another, without order or fitness, that, so as to contemplate at my ease their oddness and their strangeness, I began to keep a record of them, hoping in time to make my mind ashamed of itself. o+1eGiCXdLqALGs62Eey7k0EPSQAzn4YgTAViCwDqhCzwEtjO37iCwc7rmTQS7UV

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