Fortune is oftentimes observed to act by the Rule of Reason

Fortune is more variable and inconstant than any picture we could draw of her. She is not always found acting against reason; she sometimes follows reason’s path so closely that those who think her most irregular begin to suspect that she knows what she is doing. The examples of the great reversals of history do not always confound us — sometimes, studied carefully, they carry a lesson, as if the blind goddess were not after all so blind.

Pompey was at the height of his reputation and power when fortune turned against him; yet those who examined the causes could trace them clearly — pride that had outrun all prudence, alliances that had been made for show rather than for strength, a general who believed himself beyond the reach of error. Fortune only confirmed what wisdom, had it been consulted, might have predicted. The seeming caprice was, in retrospect, almost inevitable.

“Fortune, it seems, takes pleasure sometimes in confirming the sentence of reason, to make us believe she can do all things, even those that are within our power.”

What this teaches is not fatalism — not that we should lie down before what comes — but a certain respect for the hidden coherence of events. The man who has acted foolishly, even if he has long enjoyed impunity, is not therefore safe; fortune has merely deferred the reckoning. And the man who has acted wisely, even if he has long suffered, is not therefore abandoned; fortune has merely deferred the reward.

I do not pretend to know with certainty that this is so. Fortune is a mystery and I will not pretend otherwise. But I have observed enough of life to believe that the cases where she seems most irrational are often the cases where we have simply not looked closely enough at the reasons. There is, in the long run, more justice in the world than the impatient eye can see.