What is become of that magnificence?
Where is King Croesus with his opulence?
Or where is Xerxes with his mighty pride,
Who with a bridge did curb the raging tide?
Inhabitants of darkness they became,
And now are living only in their fame.
Their riches have perished with their bodies.
16. Yes, we may say, but an untimely death from many doth extort groans
and passionate complaints. But the way to dry up these sorrows is so
expedite and easy, that every vulgar poet hath prescribed it. Consider
what consolation a comedian puts in the mouth of one who comforts
another upon so sad an occasion:—
If this with certainty thou could’st have known,
That Fortune always would have kindness shown,
That nothing but what’s good would him befall,
His death thou justly might’st untimely call.
But if calamities were imminent,
And Death the fatal mischief did prevent,
To give to things the character that’s due,
Death was the most obliging of the two.
It therefore being uncertain whether it was for his advantage that he
departed this life and was freed from all the miseries that attend it,
we had thereby lost all that we fancied we could enjoy in him whilst
he was living. And Amphiaraus in the poet doth not do amiss when he
consoles the mother of Archemorus, who was even sick with grief for the
untimely death of her infant son. He speaks:—
There is no man whom sorrow doth not seize;
Our children die while others we beget.
At last we die ourselves, and mortals grieve
As they give dust to dust; but human life
Must needs be reaped like a full crop of corn.
One man must live, another die: why weep
For this, which by necessity must be?
There is no hardship in necessity.[159]
17. In general, every one should meditate seriously with himself,
and have the concurrence of other men’s opinions with his own, that
it is not the longest life which is the best, but that which is the
most virtuous. For that musician is not to be commended who plays
upon variety of instruments, nor that orator that makes multiplicity
of speeches, nor the pilot that conducts many ships, but he of each
faculty that doth one of them well; for the beauty of a thing doth not
consist in length of time, but in the virtue and seasonable moderation
wherewith it is transacted. This is that which is called happy and
grateful to the Gods. And for this reason it is that poets celebrate
those who have died before they have become old, and propose them for
examples, as the most excellent men and of divine extraction, as him
for instance,
Beloved by Jove and him who gilds the skies,
Yet short his date of life.[160]
And we see in every thing that preference is not given so much to age
as to maturity. For amongst trees and plants, those are accounted
the most generous which bring forth abundance of fruit, and that
early ripe. And amongst living creatures too, those are the most
valued which supply us with the accommodations of life in a short
time, besides, if we compare the space of our life with eternity, we
shall find no difference betwixt long and short; for according to
Simonides, thousands and millions of years are but as a point to what
is infinite, or rather the smallest part of that point. They report
that about Pontus there are some creatures of such an extempore being
that the whole term of their life is confined within the space of a
day; for they are brought forth in the morning, are in the prime of
their existence at noon, grow old at night, and then die. Dost thou not
think that if these had the soul and reason of a man, they would be so
affected, and that things would happen to them after the same manner as
to us?—that those who died before the meridian would be lamented with
tears and groans?—and that we should call them happy who lived their
day out? For the measure of a man’s life is the well spending of it,
and not the length.
18. But such exclamations as this, “the young man ought not to be taken
off so abruptly in the vigor of his years,” are very frivolous, and
proceed from a great weakness of mind; for who is it that can say what
a thing ought to be? But things have been, are, and will be done,
which somebody or other will say ought not to be done. But we do not
come into this life to be dogmatical and prescribe to it; but we must
obey the dictates of the Gods who govern the world, and submit to the
establishments of Fate and Providence.
19. But when they mourn over those who die so untimely, do they do it
upon their own account, or upon that of the deceased? If upon their
own, because they have lost that pleasure they thought they should
have enjoyed in them, or are deprived of that profit they expected or
that relief they flattered themselves they should receive from them
in their old age, then self-love and personal interest prescribe the
measures of their sorrow; so that upon the result they do not love
the dead so much as themselves and their own interest. But if they
lament upon the account of the deceased, that is a grief easily to be
shaken off, if they only consider that by their very death they will
be out of the sphere of any evil that can reach them, and believe
the wise and ancient saying, that we should always augment what is
good, and extenuate the evil. Therefore if grief is a good thing,
let us enlarge and make it as great as we can; but if it is numbered
amongst the evils, as in truth it ought to be, let us endeavor all we
can to suppress it, make it as inconsiderable as we can, and at last
utterly efface it. How easy this is to be done, I will make appear
by an illustrious example of consolation. They say that an ancient
philosopher came to the Queen Arsinoe, who was then sorrowful for the
death of her son, and discoursed her after this manner: “At the time
that Jupiter distributed honors amongst his under-deities, it happened
that Grief was absent; but he came at last when all the dignities were
disposed of, and then desired that he might have some share in the
promotions. Jupiter, having no better vacancies left, bestowed upon
him sorrow and funeral tears.” He made this inference from the story:
“Therefore,” saith he, “as other daemons love and frequent those who
give them hospitable reception, so sadness will never come near you,
if you do not give it encouragement; but if you caress it with those
particular honors which it challengeth as its due, which are sighs
and tears, it will have an unlucky affection for you, and will always
supply you with fresh occasion that the observance may be continued.”
By this plausible speech he seems in a wonderful manner to have buoyed
this great woman out of her tears, and to have made her cast off her
veil.
20. In short, I would ask the mourner whether he designs to put an end
to his grief, or to allow the anguish to have the same duration with
his life. If this thou hast resolved, I must say thou hast cut out
for thyself the most bitter infelicity in the world, and all through
the stupidity and softness of thy mind; but if thou wilt ever make a
change, why dost thou not make it now, and so free thyself from misery?
Apply now the same reasons thou must use a great while hence, to
unburden thy mind and ease thy afflictions; and as in bodily distempers
the quickest remedy is the best, so bestow the advantage thou must
otherwise allow to time upon reason and instruction, and so cease to be
unhappy.
21. But it is objected, the calamity was sudden, and I did not expect
it. But thou oughtest to have done it, and considered the vanity and
uncertainty of human affairs, that thy enemies might not have come
suddenly upon thee and taken thee unawares. Theseus in Euripides seems
to be excellently well prepared for events of this nature, for he saith
thus—
This wholesome precept from the wise I learn,
To think of misery without concern.
My meditating thoughts are always spent
Either on death or else on banishment.
Foresight of evils doth employ my mind,
That me without defence they may not find;
And though in ambuscade the mischief lies,
Kill me it may, but shall not me surprise.[161]
But those who are of a degenerate and thoughtless spirit never apply
their mind to any thing that is either useful or becoming; but they
grow exorbitant in their sorrows, and afflict the innocent body, making
it sick for company, as Achaeus expresseth it.
22. Therefore Plato[162] doth rightly instruct us to acquiesce in
cases of this nature, when it is not manifest whether they be good or
evil, and when we get nothing by being uneasy under them; for grief is
the greatest obstacle to deliberation as to what is best to be done.
Therefore he commands us, as in the casting of dice, to accommodate
ourselves to what befalls us, in the way which reason shows us to
be best; and when any thing ails us, not to imitate the folly of
children, who presently cry out and clap their hands to the place
affected, but to accustom our minds to seek at once for remedies which
may restore the part that is diseased to its first tone of health,
making lamentation give place to the healing art. He that instituted
laws for the Lycians commanded the citizens that when they mourned
they should put on women’s apparel, intimating thereby that sorrow was
an effeminate thing, and therefore was not fit for men of temper and
liberal education. For it is indeed a weak and unmanly passion, and
women are more subject to it than men, the barbarians more than the
Greeks, and the dregs of mankind more than the refined part of them;
and even amongst the barbarians, the brave-spirited Celts and Gauls
have not a propensity to it, or any that have generous sentiments; but
the Egyptians, the Syrians, and the Lydians, and those who resemble
them in the softness of their disposition. They report that some of
these will hide themselves in retirements under ground, and refuse
to behold that sun of which their lamented friend is deprived. Ion,
the tragedian, who heard something of this extravagance, introduceth a
person speaking after this manner:—
Your blooming children’s nurse, I have come forth
A suppliant from the caves where I have mourned.
Some of these barbarians have deformed their bodies by cutting
off their noses, ears, and other parts of themselves, thinking to
gratify the dead by these mutilations, when in doing so they deviated
excessively from that moderation which Nature prescribes us.
23. And, by Jove, we meet with some persons who affirm that the death
of every one is not to be lamented, but only of those who die untimely;
for they have not tasted of those things which we call enjoyments in
the world, as a nuptial bed, proficiency in learning, the coming up
to an height in any thing, the honor of magistracy and charges in the
government. It is for the sake of these things that we condole with
those who lose friends by untimely death, because they were frustrated
of their hopes; but in the meanwhile we are ignorant that a sudden
death doth not at all differ from any other, considering the condition
of human nature. For as when a journey is enjoined into a remote
country, and there is a necessity for every one to undertake it, and
none hath liberty to refuse, though some go before and others follow,
yet all must arrive at the same stage at last; so when we all lie under
an obligation of discharging the same debt, it is not material whether
we pay sooner or later. But if any one’s death may be called untimely,
and consequently an evil, that appellation suits only with that of
children and infants, and especially of those who are newly born. But
this we bear steadfastly and with patience; but when those that are
grown up die, we take on heavily, because we fondly hoped that when
their years were full blown they would then have an uninterrupted
state of health. Now if the age of man were limited to the space of
twenty years, we should not think that he who had arrived to fifteen
died an untimely death, but that he had filled up a just measure of
living; but one that had attained twenty, or at least had approached
very near it, we should applaud for his good fortune, as if he had
enjoyed the most happy and perfect life in the world. So if life were
prolonged to two hundred years as its fixed period, and any one died at
a hundred, we should howl over him as if he had been hastily cut off.
24. It is manifest then, by what hath been said now and what hath
been mentioned before, that the death we call untimely is capable of
consolation; and the saying is true, that “Troilus wept less than
Priam,”[163] perishing as he did in his youth, while his father’s
kingdom flourished and his riches abounded, which Priam afterwards
laments as most deplorably lost. For observe what he saith to his son
Hector, when he entreats him to decline the battle he was going to
fight against Achilles:—
Yet shun Achilles! enter yet the wall;
And spare thyself, thy father, spare us all!
Save thy dear life; or, if a soul so brave
Neglect that thought, thy dearer glory save.
Pity, while yet I live, these silver hairs;
While yet thy father feels the woes he bears,
Yet curst with sense! a wretch whom in his rage
All trembling on the verge of helpless age
Great Jove has placed, sad spectacle of pain!
The bitter dregs of Fortune’s cup to drain:
To fill with scenes of death his closing eyes
And number all his days by miseries!
My heroes slain, my bridal bed o’erturn’d,
My daughters ravish’d, and my city burn’d,
My bleeding infants dash’d against the floor;
These I have yet to see, perhaps yet more!
Perhaps even I, reserv’d by angry Fate,
The last sad relic of my ruin’d state,
(Dire pomp of sovereign wretchedness!) must fall,
And stain the pavement of my regal hall;
Where famish’d dogs, late guardians of my door,
Shall lick their mangled master’s spatter’d gore.
But when the Fates, in fulness of their rage,
Spurn the hoar head of unresisting age,
In dust the reverend lineaments deform,
And pour to dogs the life-blood scarcely warm:
This, this is misery! the last, the worst,
That man can feel,—man, fated to be cursed!
He said, and acting what no words can say,
Rent from his head the silver locks away.
With him the mournful mother bears a part;
Yet all her sorrows turn not Hector’s heart.[164]
Having then so many examples of this kind before thine eyes, thou
oughtest to make thyself sensible that not a few have been saved by
death from those calamities they would certainly have fallen into had
they lived longer. Contenting myself with those I have related already,
I will omit the rest, that I may not seem tedious; and these are
sufficient to show that we ought not to abandon ourselves to violent
sorrow, beyond temper and the bounds of nature.
25. Crantor saith, To be innocent is the greatest comfort in
afflictions. I assent to him, and affirm that it is the noblest
remedy. Besides, the indication of our love to the deceased consists
not in grieving ourselves for him, but in paying respect to his fame
by honorable remembrance. For no good man deserves elegies, but
panegyrics; and we should rather celebrate his loss by an honorable
remembrance, than lament it; and offer up rather first-fruits of joy
to the Gods, and not tears which sorrow extorts from us. For he who
ceaseth to be amongst men becomes partaker of a divine life, is free
from the servitude of the body, and all those solicitous cares which
they who are embarrassed with a mortal life of necessity must undergo
till they have finished the course which Providence hath marked out for
them; and this life Nature hath not given us as a perpetual possession,
but hath clogged it with restrictions and conditions of fate.
26. Those therefore who are the masters of their reason ought not to be
transported by the death of friends beyond the limits of nature and a
just moderation unto unprofitable and barbarous complaints, and so wait
till that comes upon them which hath happened to many, to have their
vital moisture exhausted before their tears, and to be carried to their
own graves in those mourning weeds they put on for others, where their
sorrow must lie buried with those evils they provoked upon themselves
by their own imprudence. To whom that of Homer may be appositely
applied:—
Whilst others they lament with weeping eyes,
The darkness of the night doth them surprise.[165]
Wherefore in this case we should often thus reason with ourselves:
Shall we put an end to our sorrow, or shall we grieve all the days of
our life? To make it infinite is the last degree of infatuation; for we
have seen those who have been in the deepest circumstances of dejection
to be so mitigated by time, that they have banqueted upon those tombs
which before they could not endure the sight of without screeching out
and beating their breasts, but which they can now dance round with
music and all the postures of jollity. Therefore to be obstinate in our
grief is the resolution of madness. If then thou hast purposed within
thyself that it shall have an end, join this consideration with it,
that time will assuage it too; for what is once done even the Deity
himself cannot unravel; therefore that which hath happened to us beyond
our hope and contrary to our opinion hath palpably shown us what is
wont from the same causes to befall others. What’s the result then?
Cannot any discipline teach us, nor cannot we reason with ourselves,
that—
The earth with evils doth abound;
As many in the sea are found?[166]