But though this be the state of all sublunary things, yet such is the extravagant pride and folly of some men, that if they are raised above the common by the greatness of their riches or functions of magistracy, or if they arrive to any eminent charge in the commonwealth, they presently swell with the titles of their honor, and threaten and insult over their inferiors; never considering what a treacherous Goddess Fortune is, and how easy a revolution it is for things that are uppermost to be thrown down from their height and for humble things to be exalted, and that these changes of Fortune are performed quickly and in the swiftest moments of time. To seek for any certainty therefore in that which is uncertain is the part of those who judge not aright of things:— Like to a wheel that constantly goes round, One part is up whilst t’other’s on the ground. 6. But the most sovereign remedy against sorrow is our reason, and out of this arsenal we may arm ourselves with defence against all the casualties of life; for every one ought to lay down this as a maxim, that not only is he himself mortal in his nature, but life itself decays, and things are easily changed into quite the contrary to what they are; for our bodies are made up of perishing ingredients. Our fortunes and our passions too are subject to the same mortality; indeed all things in this world are in perpetual flux,— Which no man can avoid with all his care.[140] It is an expression of Pindar, that we are held to the dark bottom of hell by necessities as hard as iron. And Euripides says:— No worldly wealth is firm and sure; But for a day it doth endure.[141] And also:— From small beginnings our misfortunes grow, And little rubs our feet do overthrow; A single day is able down to cast Some things from height, and others raise as fast.[142] Demetrius Phalereus affirms that this was truly said, but that the poet had been more in the right if for a single day he had put only a moment of time. For earthly fruits and mortal men’s estate Turn round about in one and selfsame rate; Some live, wax strong, and prosper day by day, While others are cast down and fade away.[143] And Pindar hath it in another place, What are we, what are we not? Man is but a shadow’s dream.[144] He used an artificial and very perspicuous hyperbole to draw human life in its genuine colors; for what is weaker than a shadow? Or what words can be found out whereby to express a shadow’s dream? Crantor hath something consonant to this, when, condoling Hippocles upon the loss of his children, he speaks after this manner:—