it might be, who had been lately seized upon by a high fever and by death, when leaving a similar festivity, and with his head full of trifles and love and gaiety, like myself; and that I had as much to answer for.[1]
(a) I no more scowled at that thought than at another. It is not possible that at the outset we should not feel stings from such thoughts; but by handling them and going over them again and again, we are sure to make them tractable in the long run; otherwise, for my part, I should be in a constant terror and frenzy; for never was man so distrustful of his life, never did man count less on its duration. My health, which has hitherto been very robust and infrequently interrupted, does not lengthen my expectation, nor do illnesses shorten it. Every moment it seems to me that I come through safely; (c) and I reiterate to myself incessantly: “Whatever can happen another day, can happen to-day.”[3] (a) In truth, risks and perils bring us little, or not at all, nearer our end; and if we think how, besides the danger that seems most to threaten us, there are millions of others hanging over our heads, we shall find that, lusty or fever-stricken, at sea or in our houses, in battle or at rest, it is equally near to us.[4] (c) Nemo altero fragilior est: nemo in crastinum sui certior.[5] (a) What I have to do before I die, any amount of leisure seems to me short to accomplish it, were it but an hour’s work. Some one, turning over my tablets the other day, found a memorandum of something that I wished to have done after my death. I told him — and it was true — that, being only a league from my house, and sound and hearty, I had made haste to write that down because I was not sure of reaching home. (c) As one who is constantly brooding over his thoughts, and imprinting them on his mind, I am at all hours prepared as much as I can be so; and
- ↑ Et qu’autant m’en pendoit à l’oreille.
- ↑ Soon [the present] will be the past, never to be recalled. — Lucretius, III, 915.
- ↑ Tout ce qui peut estre faict une autre jour, le peut estre aujourd’hui.
- ↑ Cf. Seneca, Epistle 49.
- ↑ No man is more frail than another, no man more certain of his morrow. — Idem, Epistle 91.
