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Book I · Chapter XV

That our Desires are increased by Difficulty

There is nothing of which we are so lavish as of opinion, and nothing of which we are so sparing as of will. We would have what we love kept from us a little while, that we may the better relish it when we come to the enjoyment of it. Difficulty, says Ovid, gives price to things. The thing forbid is what we covet most; what is denied us is the thing that most inflames.

There is a story that a certain man who had the liberty of taking what he would from a great heap of gold would never take above a handful, having the will to take no more because he might take all. In desire it is the limit that creates the longing; the thing fully possessed loses the quality that made it desirable. The lover who gains is already halfway towards indifference.

“We run with greater ardour after what flees from us than after what advances to meet us.”

This truth is evident in all the passages of human life. The child wants what the adult possesses; the conquered province is valued above those held since birth; the liberty we have in full is negligently used, while the liberty of which we are deprived becomes a constant passion. Even in philosophy, the truth one labours to extract from difficulty feels more truly possessed than what is freely given.

It is a sorry condition — that we cannot fully desire what we freely hold — but it tells us something useful about how to live. We should not regret that easy things lose their savour; that is simply the mind’s way of directing our energy toward what has not yet been mastered. The wise man turns this instinct to account: he keeps something in reserve from himself, not from poverty but from the understanding that a little want is the best sauce.