Many are the doctors who have knit their brows over their patients and
now are dead themselves; many are the astrologers who in their day
esteemed themselves renowned in foretelling the death of others, yet now
they too are dead. Many are the philosophers who have held countless
discussions upon death and immortality, and yet themselves have shared
the common lot; many the valiant warriors who have slain their thousands
and yet have themselves been slain by Death; many are the rulers and the
kings of the earth, who, in their arrogance, have exercised over others
the power of life or death as though they were themselves beyond the
hazard of Fate, and yet themselves have, in their turn, felt Death's
remorseless power. Nay, even great cities--Helice, Pompeii,
Herculaneum--have, so to speak, died utterly. Recall, one by one, the
names of thy friends who have died; how many of these, having closed the
eyes of their kinsmen, have in a brief time been buried also. To
conclude: keep ever before thee the brevity and vanity of human life and
all that is therein; for man is conceived to-day, and to-morrow will be
a mummy or ashes. Pass, therefore, this moment of life in accord with
the will of Nature, and depart in peace: even as does the olive, which
in its season, fully ripe, drops to the ground, blessing its mother,
the earth, which bore it, and giving thanks to the tree which put it
forth. (Book iv., § 48.)
A simple yet potent help to enable one to despise Death is to recall
those who, in their greed for life, tarried the longest here. Wherein
had they really more than those who were cut off untimely in their
bloom? Together, at last, somewhere, they all repose in death.
Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, or any like them, who bore forth
so many to the tomb, were, in their turn, borne thither also. Their
longer span was but trivial! Think too, of the cares thereof, of the
people with whom it was passed, of the infirmities of the flesh! All
vanity! Think of the infinite deeps of Time in the past, of the infinite
depths to be! And in that vast profound of Time, what difference is
there between a life of three centuries and the three days' life of a
little child! (Book iv., § 50.)
* * * * *
Think of the Universe of matter!--an atom thou! Think of the eternity of
Time--thy predestined time but a moment! Reflect upon the great plan of
Fate--how trivial this destiny of thine! (Book v., § 24.)
* * * * *
All things are enveloped in such darkness that they have seemed utterly
incomprehensible to those who have led the philosophic life--and those
too not a few in number, nor of ill-repute. Nay, even to the Stoics the
course of affairs seems an enigma. Indeed, every conclusion reached
seems tentative; for where is the man to be found who does not change
his conclusions? Think too of the things men most desire,--riches,
reputation, and the like,--and consider how ephemeral they are, how
vain! A vile wretch, a common strumpet, or a thief, may possess them.
Then think of the habits and manners of those about thee--how difficult
it is to endure the least offensive of such people--nay how difficult,
most of all, it is to endure one's self!
Amidst such darkness, then, and such unworthiness, amidst this eternal
change, with all temporal things and even Time itself passing away, with
all things moving in eternal motion, I cannot imagine what, in all this,
is worthy of a man's esteem or serious effort. (Book v., § 10.)