And what is Death? (p. 230 in the chapter on Solitude). It is a going "to the place from which you came, to your friends and kinsmen, to the elements: what there was in you of fire goes to fire, of earth to earth; of air (spirit) to air; of water to water: no Hades, nor Acheron, nor Cocytus, nor Pyriphlegethon, but all is full of Gods and Daemons." He says (p. 282): "death is a greater change, not from the state which now is to that which is not, but to that which is not now. Shall I then no longer exist? You will not exist, but you will be something else, of which the world now has need: for you also came into existence not when you chose, but when the world had need of you." Death is the resolution of the matter of the body into the things out of which it is composed (p. 347). This is distinct and intelligible. Of the soul, which, as we have seen, he considers to be in some way different from the body during life, he does not speak so distinctly. I think that he means, if he means any thing, something like what I have said in p. 347, note 4.
The philosopher, who appears to have no belief in a future existence, as it is generally understood, teaches that we ought to live such a life in all our thoughts and in all our acts as a Christian would teach. He says (p. 285), "Then in the place of all other delights substitute this, that of being conscious that you are obeying God, that not in word, but in deed you are performing the acts of a wise and good man." He looks for no reward for doing what he ought to do. The virtuous man has his reward in his own acts. If he lives conformably to nature, he will do what is best in this short life, and will obtain all the hap- piness which he can obtain in no other way.
He says (p. 310): "Who are you and for what purpose did you come into the world? Did not God introduce you here, did he not show you the light, did he not give you fellow workers, and perception and reason? and as whom
