Where exists the man so uniform of temperament, that he does not manifest contrarieties in his conversation and actions?  Solomon merits the name of sage, as much as Epicure for less, and he belied himself equally in his sentiments and conduct.  Montaigne, when still young, believed it necessary to always think of death in order to be always ready for it.  Approaching old age, however, he recanted, so he says, being willing to permit nature to gently guide him, and teach him how to die.

M. Bernier, the great partisan of Epicurus, avows to-day, that “After philosophizing for fifty years, I doubt things of which I was once most assured.”

All objects have different phases, and the mind which is in perpetual motion, views them from different aspects as they revolve before it.  Hence, it may be said, that we see the same thing under different aspects, thinking at the same time that we have discovered something new.  Moreover, age brings great changes in our inclinations, and with a change of inclination often comes a change of opinion.  Add, that the pleasures of the senses sometimes give rise to contempt for mental gratifications as too dry and unproductive and that the delicate and refined pleasures of the mind, in their turn, scorn the voluptuousness of the senses as gross.  So, no one should be surprised that in so great a diversity of aspects and movements, Epicurus, who wrote more than any other philosopher, should have treated the same subjects in a different manner according as he had perceived them from different points of view.

What avails this general reasoning to show that he might have been sensible to all kinds of pleasure?  Let him be considered according to his relations with the other sex, and nobody will believe that he spent so much time with Leontium and with Themista for the sole purpose of philosophizing.  But if he loved the enjoyment of voluptuousness, he conducted himself like a wise man.  Indulgent to the movements of nature, opposed to its struggles, never mistaking chastity for a virtue, always considering luxury as a vice, he insisted upon sobriety as an economy of the appetite, and that the repasts in which one indulged should never injure him who partook.  His motto was:  “Sic praesentibus voluptatibus utaris ut futuris non noceas.”

He disentangled pleasures from the anxieties which precede, and the disgust which follows them.  When he became infirm and suffered pain, he placed the sovereign good in ease and rest, and wisely, to my notion, from the condition he was in, for the cessation of pain is the felicity of those who suffer it.

As to tranquillity of mind, which constitutes another part of happiness, it is nothing but a simple exemption from anxiety or worry.  But, whoso can not enjoy agreeable movements is happy in being guaranteed from the sensations of pain.