“Hic, rogo, non furor est, ne moriare, mori?”

["Tell me, is it not madness, that one should die for fear
of dying?”—­Martial, ii. 80, 2.]

like those who, from fear of a precipice, throw themselves headlong into it;

              “Multos in summa pericula misfit
               Venturi timor ipse mali:  fortissimus ille est,
               Qui promptus metuenda pati, si cominus instent,
               Et differre potest.”

["The fear of future ills often makes men run into extreme danger; he is truly brave who boldly dares withstand the mischiefs he apprehends, when they confront him and can be deferred.”  —­Lucan, vii. 104.]

“Usque adeo, mortis formidine, vitae
Percipit humanos odium, lucisque videndae,
Ut sibi consciscant moerenti pectore lethum
Obliti fontem curarum hunc esse timorem.”

["Death to that degree so frightens some men, that causing them to hate both life and light, they kill themselves, miserably forgetting that this same fear is the fountain of their cares.”  —­Lucretius, iii. 79.]

Plato, in his Laws, assigns an ignominious sepulture to him who has deprived his nearest and best friend, namely himself, of life and his destined course, being neither compelled so to do by public judgment, by any sad and inevitable accident of fortune, nor by any insupportable disgrace, but merely pushed on by cowardice and the imbecility of a timorous soul.  And the opinion that makes so little of life, is ridiculous; for it is our being, ’tis all we have.  Things of a nobler and more elevated being may, indeed, reproach ours; but it is against nature for us to contemn and make little account of ourselves; ’tis a disease particular to man, and not discerned in any other creatures, to hate and despise itself.  And it is a vanity of the same stamp to desire to be something else than what we are; the effect of such a desire does not at all touch us, forasmuch as it is contradicted and hindered in itself.  He that desires of a man to be made an angel, does nothing for himself; he would be never the better for it; for, being no more, who shall rejoice or be sensible of this benefit for him.

         “Debet enim, misere cui forti, aegreque futurum est,
          Ipse quoque esse in eo turn tempore, cum male possit
          Accidere.”

["For he to whom misery and pain are to be in the future, must
himself then exist, when these ills befall him.” 
—­Idem, ibid., 874.]

Security, indolence, impassability, the privation of the evils of this life, which we pretend to purchase at the price of dying, are of no manner of advantage to us:  that man evades war to very little purpose who can have no fruition of peace; and as little to the purpose does he avoid trouble who cannot enjoy repose.