Consolatio ad Apollonium

As soon, Apollonius, as I heard the news of the untimely death of your son, who was very dear to us all, I fell sick of the same grief with you, and shared your misfortune with all the tenderness of sympathy. For he was a sweet and modest young man, devout towards the Gods, obedient to his parents, and obliging to his friends; indeed doing all things that were just. But when the tears of his funeral were scarcely dry, I thought it a time very improper to call upon you and put you in mind that you should bear this accident like a man; for when this unexpected affliction made you languish both in body and mind, I considered then that compassion was more seasonable than advice. For the most skilful physicians do not put a sudden stop to a flux of humors, but give them time to settle, and then foment the swelling by softening and bringing it to a head with medicines outwardly applied.

So now that a competent time is past—time which brings all things to maturity—since the first surprise of your calamity, I believed I should do an acceptable piece of friendship, if I should now comfort you with those reasons which may lessen your grief and silence your complaints.

1. Soft words alleviate a wounded heart,
2. If you in time will mitigate the smart.[*](Aesch. Prom. 878.)

1. Our applications should suited be
2. Unto the nature of the malady;
3. Of sorrow we should wipe the tender eyes,
4. But the immoderate weeper should chastise

Therefore to be sad, even to an indisposition, for the death of a son proceeds from a principle of nature, and it is out of our power to prevent it. I dislike those who boast so much of hard and inflexible temper which they call apathy, it being a disposition which never happens and never could be of use to us; for it would extinguish that sociable love we ought to have for one another, and which it is so necessary above all things to preserve. But to mourn excessively and to accumulate grief I do affirm to be altogether unnatural, and to result from a depraved opinion we have of things; therefore we ought to shun it as destructive in itself, and unworthy of a virtuous man; but to be moderately affected by grief we cannot condemn. It were to be wished, saith Crantor the Academic, that we could not be sick at all; but when a distemper seizeth us, it is requisite we should have sense and feeling in case any of our members be plucked or cut off. For that talkedof apathy can never happen to a man without great detriment; for as now the body, so soon the very mind would be wild and savage.

Therefore in such accidents, it is but reasonable that they who are in their right senses should avoid both extremes, of being without any passion at all and of having too much; for as the one argues a mind that is obstinate and fierce, so the other doth one that is soft and effeminate.

He therefore hath cast up his accounts the best, who, confining himself within due bounds, hath such ascendant over his temper, as to bear prosperous and adverse fortune with the same equality, whichsoever it is that happens to him in this life. He puts on those resolutions as if he were in a popular government where magistracy is decided by lot; if it luckily falls to his share, he obeys his fortune, but if it passeth him, he doth not repine at it. So we must submit to the dispensation of human affairs, without being uneasy and querulous. Those who cannot do this want prudence and steadiness of mind to bear more happy circumstances; for amongst other things which are prettily said, this is one remarkable precept of Euripides:—

1. If Fortune prove extravagantly kind,
2. Above its temper do not raise thy mind;
3. If she disclaims thee like a jilting dame,
4. Be not dejected, but be still the same,
5. Like gold unchanged amidst the hottest flame.

For it is the part of a wise and well-educated man, not to be transported beyond himself with any prosperous events, and so, when the scene of fortune changeth, to observe still the comeliness and decency of his morals. For it is the business of a man that lives by rule, either to prevent an evil that threatens him, or, when it is come, to qualify its malignity and make it as little as he can, or put on a masculine brave spirit and so resolve to endure it. For there are four ways that prudence concerns herself about any thing that is good; she is either industrious to acquire or careful to preserve, she either augments or useth it well. These are the measures of prudence, and consequently those of all other virtues, by which we ought to square ourselves in either fortune.

1. For no man lives who always happy is.[*](From the Stheneboea of Euripides, Frag. 632.)

And, by Jove, you should not hinder what ought to be done,—

1. Those things which in their nature ought to be.[*](From Euripides.)

For, as amongst trees some are very thick with fruit, and some bear none at all; amongst living creatures some are very prolific, and some barren; and as in the sea there is alternate vicissitude of calms and tempests, so in human life there are many and various circumstances which distract a man into divers changes of fortune. One considering this matter hath not said much from the purpose:—

1. Think not thyself, O Atreus’ son, forlorn;
2. Thou always to be happy wast not born.
3. Even Agamemnon’s self must be a shade,
4. For thou of frail materials art made.
5. Sorrow and joy alternately succeed;
6. ’spite of thy teeth, the Gods have so decreed.[*](Eurip. Iph. Aul. 29.)

1. If thou, O Trophimus, of all mankind,
2. Uninterrupted happiness couldst find;
3. If when thy mother brought thee forth with pain,
4. I)idst this condition of thy life obtain,
5. That only prosperous gales thy sails should fill,
6. And all things happen ’cording to thy will;
7. If any of the Gods did so engage,
8. Such usage justly might provoke thy rage,
9. Matter for smart resentment might afford,
10. For the false Deity did break his word.
11. But if thou unexcepted saw’st the light,
12. Without a promise of the least delight,
13. I say to thee (gravely in tragic style)
14. Thou ought to be more patient all the while.
15. In short,—and to say more there’s no one can,—
16. Which is a name of frailty, thou’rt a man;
17. A creature more rejoicing is not found,
18. None more dejected creeps upon the ground.
19. Though weak, yet he in politics refines,
20. Involves himself in intricate designs;
21. With nauseous business he himself doth cloy,
22. And so the pleasure of his life destroy.
23. In great pursuits thou never hast been cross’d
24. No disappointments have thy projects lost;
25. Nay, such hath been the mildness of thy fate,
26. Hast no misfortune had of any rate;
27. If Fortune is at any time severe,
28. Serene and undisturbed thou must appear.

But though this be the state of all sublunary things, yet such is the extravagant pride and folly of some men, that if they are raised above the common by the greatness of their riches or functions of magistracy, or if they arrive to any eminent charge in the commonwealth, they presently swell with the titles of their honor, and threaten and insult over their inferiors; never considering what a treacherous Goddess Fortune is, and how easy a revolution it is for things that are uppermost to be thrown down from their height and for humble things to be exalted, and that these changes of Fortune are performed quickly and in the swiftest moments of time. To seek for any certainty therefore in that which is uncertain is the part of those who judge not aright of things:—

1. Like to a wheel that constantly goes round,
2. One part is up whilst t’other’s on the ground.

But the most sovereign remedy against sorrow is our reason, and out of this arsenal we may arm ourselves with defence against all the casualties of life; for every one ought to lay down this as a maxim, that not only is he himself mortal in his nature, but life itself decays, and things are easily changed into quite the contrary to what they are; for our bodies are made up of perishing ingredients. Our fortunes and our passions too are subject to the same mortality; indeed all things in this world are in perpetual flux,—

1. Which no man can avoid with all his care.[*](Il. XII. 327.)

1. No worldly wealth is firm and sure;
2. But for a day it doth endure.[*](Eurip. Phoeniss. 558.)

1. From small beginnings our misfortunes grow,
2. And little rubs our feet do overthrow;
3. A single day is able down to cast
4. Some things from height, and others raise as fast.[*](From the Ino of Euripides.)

1. For earthly fruits and mortal men’s estate
2. Turn round about in one and selfsame rate;
3. Some live, wax strong, and prosper day by day,
4. While others are cast down and fade away.From the Ino of Euripides.

1. What are we, what are we not?
2. Man is but a shadow’s dream.Pindar, Pyth. VIII. 135.

These are the things which all the old philosophers talk of and have instructed us in; which though we do not agree to in every particular, yet this hath too sharp a truth in it, that our life is painful and full of difficulties; and if it doth not labor with them in its own nature, yet we ourselves have infected it with that corruption. For the inconstancy of Fortune joined us at the beginning of our journey, and hath accompanied us ever since; so that it can produce nothing that is sound or comfortable unto us; and the bitter potion was mingled for us as soon as we were born. For the principles of our nature being mortal is the cause that our judgment is depraved, that diseases, cares, and all those fatal inconveniences afflict mankind.

But what need of this digression? Only that we may be made sensible that it is no unusual thing if a man be unfortunate; but we are all subject to the same calamity. For as Theophrastus saith, Fortune surpriseth us unawares, robs us of those things we have got by the sweat of our

1. Of all that breathes or grovelling creeps on earth,
2. Most man is vain! calamitous by birth:
3. To-day, with power elate, in strength he blooms;
4. The haughty creature on that power presumes:
5. Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels;
6. Untaught to bear, ’gainst Heaven the wretch rebels.
7. For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe;
8. Too high when prosperous, when distress’d too low.Odyss. XVIII. 130.

1. What or from whence I am, or who my sire
2. (Replied the chief), can Tydeus’ son enquire?
3. Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
4. Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;
5. Another race the following spring supplies;
6. They fall successive, and successive rise.
7. So generations in their course decay;
8. So flourish these, when those are past away.Il. VI. 145.

1. For what is man? Calamitous by birth,
2. They owe their life and nourishment to earth;
3. Like yearly leaves, that now with beauty crown’d,
4. Smile on the sun, now wither on the ground.Il. XXI. 463.

When Pausanias the king of Sparta was frequently bragging of his performances, and bidding Simonides the lyric poet in raillery to give him some wise precept, he, knowing the vain-glory of him that spoke, admonished him to remember that he was a man. Philip the king of Macedon, when he had received three despatches of good news at the same time, of which the first was that his chariots

But Homer seems to indicate a particular praise to himself, when he brings in Achilles speaking thus to Priam, who was come forth to ransom the body of Hector:—

1. Rise then; let reason mitigate our care:
2. To mourn avails not: man is born to bear.
3. Such is, alas! the Gods’ severe decree:
4. They, only they, are blest, and only free.
5. Two urns by Jove’s high throne have ever stood,
6. The source of evil one, and one of good;
7. From thence the cup of mortal man he fills,
8. Blessings to these, to these distributes ills;
9. To most he mingles both; the wretch decreed
10. To taste the bad unmix’d is cursed indeed;
11. Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven,
12. He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven.Il. XXIV. 522.

Hesiod, who was the next to Homer both in respect of time and reputation, and who professed to be a disciple of the Muses, fancied that all evils were shut up in a box, and that Pandora opening it scattered all sorts of mischiefs through both the earth and seas:—

1. The cover of the box she did remove,
2. And to fly out the crowding mischief strove;
3. But slender hope upon the brims did stay,
4. Ready to vanish into air away;
5. She with retrieve the haggard in did put,
6. And on the prisoner close the box did shut;
7. But plagues innumerable abroad did fly,
8. Infecting all the earth, the seas, and sky,
9. Diseases now with silent feet do creep,
10. Torment us waking, and afflict our sleep.
11. These midnight evils steal without a noise,
12. For Jupiter deprived them of their voice.[*](Hesiod, Works and Days, 94.)

After these the comedian, talking of those who bear afflictions uneasily, speaks consonantly to this purpose:—

1. If we in wet complaints could quench our grief,
2. At any rate we’d purchase our relief;
3. With proffered gold would bribe off all our fears,
4. And make our eyes distil in precious tears.
5. But the Gods mind not mortals here below,
6. Nor the least thought on our affairs bestow;
7. But with an unregarding air pass by,
8. Whether our cheeks be moist, or whether dry.
9. Unhappiness is always sorrow’s root,
10. And tears do hang from them like crystal fruit.

1. Dost think that thy repinings move the grave,
2. Or from its jaws thy dying son can save?
3. If thou would’st lessen it, thy grief compare;—
4. Consider how unhappy others are;
5. How many bonds of slavery do hold;
6. How many of their children robbed grow old;
7. How sudden Fate throws off th’ usurped crown,
8. And in the dirt doth tread the tyrant down.
9. Let this with deep impression in thee sink,
10. And on these revolutions often think.From the Danae of Euripides.

And here that opinion of Socrates comes in very pertinently, who thought that if all our misfortunes were laid in one common heap, whence every one must take an equal portion, most people would be contented to take their own and depart. After this manner Antimachus the poet allayed

Aeschylus also doth justly reprimand those who think death to be an evil, declaring after this manner:—

1. Some as a thing injurious death do fly;
2. But of all mischiefs ’tis the remedy.

1. Come, with impatience I expect thee, Death;
2. And stop with thy obliging hand my breath:
3. To thee as a physician all resort,
4. And we through tempests sail into thy port.

1. Where is the slave who never fears to die?From Euripides.

1. And shadows never scare me, thanks to hell.

And I believe Nature, knowing the confusion and shortness of our life, hath industriously concealed the end of it from us, this making for our advantage. For if we were sensible of it beforehand, some would pine away with untimely sorrow, and would die before their death came. For she saw the woes of this life, and with what a torrent of cares it is overflowed,—which if thou didst undertake to number, thou wouldst grow angry with it, and confirm that opinion which hath a vogue amongst some, that death is more desirable than life. Simonides hath glossed upon it after this manner:—

1. Our time is of a short and tender length,
2. Cares we have many, and but little strength;
3. Labors in crowds push one another on,
4. And cruel destiny we cannot shun.

1. The casting of these lots is very just,
2. For good and bad lie in one common dust.

1. The Gods unequal have us mortals vexed,
2. For to one good, two evils are annexed:
3. They pay a single joy with double care,
4. And fools such dispensations cannot bear.[*](Pindar, Pyth. III. 145.)

1. Why at a mortal’s death dost thou complain?
2. Thou know’st not what may be his future gain.

1. Dost thou not know the state of human things?
2. A faithful monitor thy instruction brings.
3. Inevitable death hangs o’er our head,
4. And threatens falling by a doubtful thread.
5. There’s no man can be certain over night,
6. If he shall live to see to-morrow’s light.
7. Life without any interruption flows,
8. And the results of fate there’s no man knows.[*](Eurip. Alcestis, 792.)

If then the condition of human life is such as they speak of, why do we not rather applaud their good fortunes who are feed from the drudgery of it, than pity and deplore them, as some men’s folly prompts them to do?

Socrates said that death was like either to a very deep sleep, or to a journey taken a great way and for a long time, or else to the utter extinction of soul and body; and if we examine each of these comparisons, he said, we shall find that death is not an evil upon any account. For if death is sleep, and no hurt happens to those who are in that innocent condition, it is manifest that neither are the dead ill dealt with. To what purpose should I talk of that which is so tritely known amongst all, that the most profound sleep is always the sweetest? Homer[*](See Odyss. XIII. 80; and Il. XIV. 231; XVI. 672; XI. 241) particularly attests it:—

1. His senses all becalmed, he drew his breath,
2. His sleep was sound, and quiet like to death.

1. She met Death’s brother, Sleep.—

1. Twin brothers, Sleep and Death,—

Diogenes the Cynic, when a little before his death he fell into a slumber, and his physician rousing him out of it asked him whether any thing ailed him, wisely answered, Nothing, sir, only one brother anticipates another,—Sleep before Death.

If death be like a journey, neither upon this account is it an evil, but rather the contrary; for certainly it is the emphasis of happiness to be freed from the incumbrances of the flesh and all those troublesome passions which attend it, which serve only to darken the understanding, and overspread it with all the folly that is incident to human nature.

The very body, saith Plato, procures us infinite disquiet only to supply its daily necessities with food; but if any diseases are coincident, they hinder our contemplations, and stop us in our researches after truth. Besides, it distracts us with irregular desires, fears, and vain amours, setting before us so many fantastic images of things, that the common saying is here most true, that on account of the body we can never become wise. For wars, popular seditions, and shedding of blood by the sword are owing to no other original than this care of the body and gratifying its licentious appetites; for we fight only to get riches, and these

Therefore, if death only transports us to another place, it is not to be looked upon as an evil, but rather as an exceeding good, as Plato hath demonstrated. The words of Socrates to his judges seem to me to be spoken even with inspiration: To fear death, gentlemen, is nothing else than to counterfeit the being wise, when we are not so. For he that fears death pretends to know what he is ignorant

1. Let no man fear what doth his labors end;—

The Gods themselves bear witness to the truth of this, for many have obtained death as a gratuity from them. The less famous instances I will pass by, that I may not be prolix, and only mention those who are the most celebrated and in all men’s mouths. And in the first place, I will relate what befell Biton and Cleobis, two young men of Argos. They report that their mother being the priestess of Juno, and the time being come that she was to go up to the temple to perform the rites of the Goddess, and those whose office it was to draw her chariot tarrying longer than usual, these two young men harnessed themselves and took it up, and so carried their mother to the temple. She, being extremely taken with the piety of her sons, petitioned the Goddess that she would bestow upon them the best present that could be given to men; accordingly she cast them into that deep sleep out of which they never awoke, taking this way to recompense their ’filial zeal with death. Pindar writes of Agamedes and Trophonius, that after they had built a temple at Delphi, they requested of Apollo a reward for their work. It was answered them that they should have it within seven days, but in the mean while they were commanded to live freely and indulge their genius; accordingly they obeyed the dictate, and the seventh night they died in their beds. It is said also of Pindar, that when the deputies of the Boeotians were sent to consult the oracle, he desired them to enquire of it which was the best thing amongst men, and that the Priestess of the tripod gave them this answer,—that he

1. ’Tis ignorance makes wretched men to err;
2. Fate did to happiness thy son prefer.
3. By destined death Euthynous seized we see;
4. So ’twas the better both for him and thee.

But lastly, if death be the entire dissipation of soul and body (which was the third part of Socrates’s comparison),

1. The dead secure from sorrow safe do lie,
2. ’Tis the same thing not to be born and die.[*](From Aeschylus.)

For it is the same state of existence after death as it was before we were born. Unless perhaps you will make a difference between having no being at all and the utter extinction of it, after the same manner that you make a distinction between an house and a garment after they are ruined and worn out, and at the time before the one was built and the other made. And if in this case there is no difference, it is plain that there is none between the state before we were born and that after we are dead. It is elegantly said by Arcesilaus, that death, which is called an evil, hath this peculiarly distinct from all that are thought so, that when it is present it gives us no disturbance, but when remote and in expectation only, it is then that it afflicts us. And indeed many out of the poorness of their spirit, having entertained most injurious opinions of it, have died even to prevent death. Epicharmus hath said excellently to this purpose: It was united, it is now dissolved; it returns back whence it came,—earth to earth, the spirit to regions

1. For if he dwells below, beneath the earth,
2. With those whose life is gone, his strength is nought,

1. For if he dwells below, beneath the earth,
2. With those whose life is gone, his woes are o’er.

1. These neither did live handsomely nor die,
2. Though both should have been done with decency.

1. I hate the man who studies to defeat
2. The power of death with artificial meat,
3. To baffle and prevent his fate does think,
4. And lengthens out his life with magic drink.
5. Whereas, when he a burden doth become,
6. Then he should die, because lie’s troublesome.
7. Old age in modesty should then give place,
8. And so make way unto a brisker race.

1. My sons by death are ravished from my side,
2. And I’m a widow, who was once a bride.
3. I am not thus selected to be crossed,
4. Others their sons and husbands too have lost.[*](From the Cresphontes of Euripides.)

1. What is become of that magnificence?
2. Where is King Croesus with his opulence?
3. Or where is Xerxes with his mighty pride,
4. Who with a bridge did curb the raging tide?
5. Inhabitants of darkness they became,
6. And now are living only in their fame.

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:—

1. If this with certainty thou could’st have known,
2. That Fortune always would have kindness shown,
3. That nothing but what’s good would him befall,
4. His death thou justly might’st untimely call.
5. But if calamities were imminent,
6. And Death the fatal mischief did prevent,
7. To give to things the character that’s due,
8. 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.:—

1. There is no man whom sorrow doth not seize;
2. Our children die while others we beget.
3. At last we die ourselves, and mortals grieve
4. As they give dust to dust; but human life
5. Must needs be reaped like a full crop of corn.
6. One man must live, another die: why weep
7. For this, which by necessity must be?
8. There is no hardship in necessity.[*](From the Hypsipyle of Euripides.)

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 varietyof 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

1. Beloved by Jove and him who gilds the skies,
2. Yet short his date of life.[*](Odyss. XV. 245.)

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. Be sides, 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.

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 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 expectedor 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 net 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 philcsopher 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

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.