Therefore, it is not enough to get remote from the public; 'tis not enough to shift the soil only; a man must flee from the popular conditions that have taken possession of his soul, he must sequester and come again to himself: "Rupi jam vincula, dicas Nam luctata canis nodum arripit; attamen illi, Quum fugit, a collo trahitur pars longa catenae." ["You say, perhaps, you have broken your chains: the dog who after long efforts has broken his chain, still in his flight drags a heavy portion of it after him."-- Persius, Sat., v.

158.] We still carry our fetters along with us.

'Tis not an absolute liberty; we yet cast back a look upon what we have left behind us; the fancy is still full of it: "Nisi purgatum est pectus, quae praelia nobis Atque pericula tunc ingratis insinuandum?
Quantae connscindunt hominem cupedinis acres Sollicitum curae?
quantique perinde timores?
Quidve superbia, spurcitia, ac petulantia, quantas Efficiunt clades?
quid luxus desidiesque ?" ["But unless the mind is purified, what internal combats and dangers must we incur in spite of all our efforts! How many bitter anxieties, how many terrors, follow upon unregulated passion! What destruction befalls us from pride, lust, petulant anger! What evils arise from luxury and sloth!"-- Lucretius, v.

4.] Our disease lies in the mind, which cannot escape from itself; "In culpa est animus, qui se non effugit unquam," -- Horace, Ep., i.

14, 13.
and therefore is to be called home and confined within itself: that is the true solitude, and that may be enjoyed even in populous cities and the courts of kings, though more commodiously apart.
Now, since we will attempt to live alone, and to waive all manner of conversation amongst them, let us so order it that our content may depend wholly upon ourselves; let us dissolve all obligations that ally us to others; let us obtain this from ourselves, that we may live alone in good earnest, and live at our ease too.
Stilpo having escaped from the burning of his town, where he lost wife, children, and goods, Demetrius Poliorcetes seeing him, in so great a ruin of his country, appear with an undisturbed countenance, asked him if he had received no loss?
To which he made answer, No; and that, thank God, nothing was lost of his .-- [Seneca, Ep.