Test by a trial how excellent is the life of the good man;—­the man who rejoices at the portion given him in the universal lot and abides therein, content; just in all his ways and kindly minded toward all men.  (Book iv., Sec. 25.)

This is moral perfection:  to live each day as though it were the last; to be tranquil, sincere, yet not indifferent to one’s fate. (Book vii., Sec. 69.)

THE BREVITY OF LIFE

Cast from thee all other things and hold fast to a few precepts such as these:  forget not that every man’s real life is but the present moment,—­an indivisible point of time,—­and that all the rest of his life hath either passed away or is uncertain.  Short, then, the time that any man may live; and small the earthly niche wherein he hath his home; and short is longest fame,—­a whisper passed from race to race of dying men, ignorant concerning themselves, and much less really knowing thee, who died so long ago. (Book iii., Sec. 10.)

VANITY OF LIFE

Many are the doctors who have knit their brows over their patients and now are dead themselves; many are the astrologers who in their day esteemed themselves renowned in foretelling the death of others, yet now they too are dead.  Many are the philosophers who have held countless discussions upon death and immortality, and yet themselves have shared the common lot; many the valiant warriors who have slain their thousands and yet have themselves been slain by Death; many are the rulers and the kings of the earth, who, in their arrogance, have exercised over others the power of life or death as though they were themselves beyond the hazard of Fate, and yet themselves have, in their turn, felt Death’s remorseless power.  Nay, even great cities—­Helice, Pompeii, Herculaneum—­have, so to speak, died utterly.  Recall, one by one, the names of thy friends who have died; how many of these, having closed the eyes of their kinsmen, have in a brief time been buried also.  To conclude:  keep ever before thee the brevity and vanity of human life and all that is therein; for man is conceived to-day, and to-morrow will be a mummy or ashes.  Pass, therefore, this moment of life in accord with the will of Nature, and depart in peace:  even as does the olive, which in its season, fully ripe, drops to the ground, blessing its mother, the earth, which bore it, and giving thanks to the tree which put it forth. (Book iv., Sec. 48.)

A simple yet potent help to enable one to despise Death is to recall those who, in their greed for life, tarried the longest here.  Wherein had they really more than those who were cut off untimely in their bloom?  Together, at last, somewhere, they all repose in death.  Cadicianus, Fabius, Julianus, Lepidus, or any like them, who bore forth so many to the tomb, were, in their turn, borne thither also.  Their longer span was but trivial!  Think too, of the cares thereof, of the people with whom it was passed, of the infirmities of the flesh!  All vanity!  Think of the infinite deeps of Time in the past, of the infinite depths to be!  And in that vast profound of Time, what difference is there between a life of three centuries and the three days’ life of a little child! (Book iv., Sec. 50.)