Those philosophers were not acquainted with the many instances in our country—to give a list of whom would take up too much time—who, we see, considered death desirable as long as it was accompanied with honor. But, notwithstanding this is the correct view of the case, we must use much persuasion, speak as if we were endued with some higher authority, in order to bring men to begin to wish to die, or cease to be afraid of death.
For if that last day does not occasion an entire extinction, but a change of abode only, what can be more desirable?
And if it, on the other hand, destroys, and absolutely puts an end to us, what can be preferable to the having a deep sleep fall on us, in the midst of the fatigues of life, and being thus overtaken, to sleep to eternity?
And, should this really be the case, then Ennius’s language is more consistent with wisdom than Solon’s; for our Ennius says,
“Let none bestow upon my passing bier
One needless sigh or unavailing tear.”
But the wise Solon says,
“Let me not unlamented die, but o’er my bier
Burst forth the tender sigh, the friendly tear.”
But let us, if indeed it should be our fate to know the time which is appointed by the Gods for us to die, prepare ourselves for it with a cheerful and grateful mind, thinking ourselves like men who are delivered from a jail, and released from their fetters, for the purpose of going back to our eternal habitation, which may be more emphatically called our own; or else to be divested of all sense and trouble.
If, on the other hand, we should have no notice given us of this decree, yet let us cultivate such a disposition as to look on that formidable hour of death as happy for us, though shocking to our friends; and let us never imagine anything to be an evil which is an appointment of the immortal Gods, or of nature, the common parent of all.
For it is not by hazard or without design that we have been born and situated as we have. On the contrary, beyond all doubt there is a certain power which consults the happiness of human nature; and this would neither have produced nor provided for a being which, after having gone through the labors of life, was to fall into eternal misery by death.
Let us rather infer that we have a retreat and haven prepared for us, which I wish we could crowd all sail and arrive at; but though the winds should not serve, and we should be driven back, yet we shall to a certainty arrive at that point eventually, though somewhat later. But how can that be miserable for one which all must of necessity undergo?
I have given you a peroration, that you might not think I had overlooked or neglected anything.
A. I am persuaded you have not; and, indeed, that peroration has confirmed me.
I find myself zooming in on a single statement here, one that seems to encapsulate the meaning of this entire first book: death is desirable, as long as it is accompanied with honor.
I can embrace mortality instead of fearing it, if I approach death as a natural transition instead of as a violent separation, and I can attend first to living with integrity, if I consider honor as the excellence of my actions instead of as the vagaries of fame.
It makes little difference whether I find my heroes in the distant past or right here and now, since all good souls learn how the fact that we must pass away offers no obstacle to the virtues; indeed, it becomes a very opportunity for the virtues to flourish, and this is why decent folk are able to smile at death.
Can I truly say that death is desirable? It isn’t the act of extinction itself that should urge me on, but rather that death serves as a culmination of all I am.
The pattern of Nature, where things must come and things must go, has been served. I am honored to have played a part, and to have paved the way for something new to arise. Providence has made it so for a good reason.
Having been provided with a limit, I am able to attend all the more vigorously to making the most of the time I am given. I am grateful how today offered me the chance to do something right. If I am to be taken tomorrow, the way I go about facing it should be the proverbial cherry on top of the sundae.
When that time for departure approaches, it can just as easily be considered as a reward, not as a punishment. What will disappear? The suffering that comes with worldly circumstances. What will remain? The reality of a job well done.
A wonderful aspect of this attitude is how it can leave open the question of any afterlife. It certainly matters if I am going somewhere else, and yet the possibility of a next life need not overshadow the merits of this one.
If my personal identity, my individual consciousness, continues on in some form, then it will be a transformation, and it is not unreasonable to suspect that it may somehow involve returning to our source.
If, on the other hand, my personal identity is extinguished entirely, then it will be a complete release, and where there is no longer any awareness there is no prospect of pain, loss, or regret.
Here Ennius speaks with greater truth than Solon, for he does not demand any recognition or mourning—a noble death is a fitting part of any good life.
Do I need to know when death will arrive? If I do, I am called to prepare, but even if I have no inkling at all, that is an even more urgent call to prepare, because the moment may be coming sooner than I suppose. Either way, I already have my work set out for me, and I must not dawdle.
I do not always comprehend why the world unfolds as it does, and so it is easy for me to despair of any direction or purpose at all. I too quickly forget that while I am often ignorant of the specifics, reason can assure me of a universal order, and I can find comfort in knowing that my own nature was made to be in harmony with the whole of Nature.
It cannot be evil if it is what Providence intends, and I should inquire into the workings of the plan before I reject it out of hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment