l.  You have inquired of me, Lucilius, why, if the world be ruled by a providence, so many evils befall good men?  This would be more conveniently  answered in the progress of the work, after we have proved that providence rules over the universe and that God is ever present with us.  But since it is your pleasure to have me take a part from the whole and to remove one objection, the main question remaining untouched, I will do what is not difficult--I will plead the cause of the gods.  

    At present it is superfluous  to show that it is not without some  guiding  hand that so great a work continues to exist, that this assemblage and running  to and fro of the stars are not effected by an accidental impulse, and, while the things  which chance sets in motion are often thrown into confusion and soon cause disturbance, that this uninterrupted swiftness, bearing  along  so many things by land and sea, and so great a mass of brilliant lights which shine according to the will of their disposer, goes on by the command of an eternal law;  that this order does not belong to matter wandering at random, neither could things which have come together by chance be adjusted with so much art, that the seas being spread over the valleys soften the earth and yet do not experience any increase from the rivers, that from the smallest seeds great things spring up.  Not even those  phenomena which appear  confused and uncertain,--I speak of  clouds and rains, of the hurlings of the destroying thunderbolts, of flames issuing from  the riven mountain peaks, of the quakings of  the tottering earth and other things which the unruly part of nature sets in motion on the earth,--happen without reason, however unexpected they may be:  but they also have their causes, no less than those things which from their unusual position  are looked upon with wonder, such as hot springs in the midst of floods and new islands that spring up in the great sea.  Moreover, any one who has watched how the shore is laid bare at the ebbing of the tide, and that within a short time it is again covered, will believe that by a certain hidden  restlessness the waves are at one time contracted and driven inwards, at another burst forth and return to their accustomed place with a great rush; since, in the meantime, they increase  so regularly and at a certain hour and day become greater or less, according as the moon, at whose will the ocean flows, draws them.  Let these things be reserved for their proper place, especially since you do not doubt concerning the  existence of providence, but complain of its operations.  I will reconcile you to the gods, who are kindly disposed to the best men.  For nature never suffers the good to injure the good.  

    Between good men and the gods exists a friendship--virtue being the bond; friendship do I say?  nay rather a relationship and a similarity, since, indeed, a good man differs from a god only in time, being his pupil, follower, and true child, whom that glorious parent--no light exactor of virtues--trains more severely than others, after the manner of strict fathers.  When therefore you see men who are good and acceptable to the  gods, toiling, sweating, laboriously climbing upwards, while on the other hand the wicked play the wanton and are steeped in pleasures; consider that we are delighted with the modesty of our sons, and the pertness of our homeborn slaves; that the former are restrained by rather a stern discipline, while the impudent audacity of the latter is encouraged.  Let the same thing be clear to you concerning God; He does not spoil a good man by too much tenderness; He proves him, hardens him, and prepares him for Himself.

    2.  Why do many adversities befall good men?  No evil can happen to a  good man; contraries do not unite.  Just as so many rivers, so many showers of rain pouring from the heavens, so great a number of medicinal fountains, do not change the taste of the sea, nor even modify it, so the shock of adversity does not affect the mind of a brave man.  He remains ready  for action, and whatever happens, he gives to it his own color, for he is more powerful  than  all external circumstances.  I do not say that he does not feel them,  but he overcomes them and even quietly and calmly rises superior to their assaults.  He looks upon all his adversities as experience.  Moreover, who is there who, if only he be a man and intent on honesty, is not desirous of lawful employment and eager for services accompanied with danger?  To what industrious man is idleness not a punishment?  We see athletes, who care for their strength, contend  with the strongest and demand of those by whom  they are trained for the contest, that they should use all their strength against them; they allow themselves to be beaten and bruised and,  if they do not find any single man who is their equal, they encounter several at the same time.  Strength weakens without an adversary:  how great and how powerful it is appears when it shows what it can endure.  You should know that the same thing ought to be done by good men, not to shun hard and difficult things, nor to complain of fate:  whatever happens, let good men be contented with it and turn it to good account.  It matters not what you bear, but how you bear it.

NOTE:  "he fights":  Seneca is referring to a gladiatorial contest in which one of the combatants is injured but still fights on his knees.

    Do you not see how differently fathers and mothers exercise parental tenderness?  The former order their children to be trained to apply themselves early to their studies, do not suffer them to be  idle even on holidays, and cause them to perspire and sometimes to shed tears; but their mothers wish  to hold them in their laps, to keep them in the shade, never to have them cry, never to be made sad, never to work.  God has a fatherly mind towards good men and loves them greatly and He says, "let them be spurred on by labors, pains and losses in order that they may acquire true strength."  Bodies that have become fat through idleness are enfeebled not merely by labor, but grow faint from  motion and their own weight.  Unbroken prosperity cannot  endure  a single blow;  but he who has had a constant battle with his misfortunes has gained a tough skin by his injuries  and yields to no evil; even though he fall, he fights on his knee. 

"Petreius and Juba":  The two friends were allies of Pompey in his battles against Julius Caesar. After Caesar's victory in 46 B.C., the two agreed to die at the same time, each to be slain by the other's hand.  Petreius was the first to receive the death thrust, and being too weak to dispatch Juba, Juba was killed by a slave at his own request. 

    Do you wonder that God, who loves the good so much, who wishes them to attain to the highest degree of virtue and excellence, assigns to them a fortune with  which they may be tried?  I indeed do not wonder, if the gods sometimes take pleasure in beholding great men struggling with some adversity.  We are sometimes delighted if a youth of steadfast  courage receives on his hunting spear the wild beast that rushes upon him, or if unterrified he withstands  the attack of a lion:  and the more distinguished the man is who acts thus, the more pleasing is the sight.  These are not things which can attract the attention of the gods; they are childish and the amusements of human frivolity.  Behold a worthy sight, at which a god who is intent upon his own work, might well look; behold a pair worthy of a  god, a brave man matched with evil fortune, especially if he has challenged it.  I do not see, I say, what more beautiful thing Jupiter could find on earth, if he should turn his attention to it, than to see Cato, after his party had more than once been defeated, yet standing upright amidst the the ruins of the republic.  Although, says he, all be given up to the power of one man, although the land be guarded by his legions, the seas by his fleets, although Caesar's soldiers besiege the gates:  Cato has a way of escape.  With one hand he will make a wide way to freedom:  this sword ,  which has been kept pure and innocent even in a civil war, will yet perform good and noble deeds; it will give to Cato the freedom which it could not give to his country.  "Begin, my soul, the work which thou so long hast reflected upon, snatch thyself away from human affairs.  Already Petreius  and Juba have engaged in combat and fallen, each slain by the other's hand:  a brave and illustrious compact with fate, but one that is not befitting my greatness; it is as disgraceful for Cato to seek death at the hands of another as it would be for him to beg his life."  

    It is clear to me that the gods looked on with great joy, when  that man, most keen to punish himself, was mindful of the safety of others and provided for the  flight of those who were departing; while even on that last  night he pursued his studies, while he thrust the sword into his sacred breast, while he tore out his vitals, and with his hand prepared a way of escape for that most holy life which was unworthy to be contaminated by the sword.  It was for this reason,  I am inclined to believe, that the wound was uncertain and ineffectual:  it was not sufficient for the immortal gods to see Cato die once:  his courage was retained and recalled, that it might show itself in a more difficult part; for it requires a greater mind to seek death a second time.  Why should they not gladly behold their pupil  escaping by so noble and memorable a death?  Death immortalizes those men whose manner of departure is extolled even by those who fear it.

    3.  But now, as the discussion proceeds, I will show that what appear to  be evils are not so.  For the present I say, that those things which you call hard, adverse and worthy to be detested, are, in the first place, for the good of those very persons to whom they happen, then for the good of all, for whom  the gods care more than for individuals:  and next, that these evils happen to those who desire them, and that men are deserving of evil if they do not wish them.  In addition to this I will say, that these misfortunes are thus ruled by destiny and rightly happen to good men by the same law through which they are made good.  Finally  I  will persuade you never to pity a good man:  he may be called unhappy, but he cannot be so.

NOTE:  "Demetrius":  a Cynic philosopher and contemporary of Seneca, was a teacher at Corinth.

Analogy 4:  The Good Man as Gladiator

NOTE:  "great examples": The figures mentioned  represent stock Roman examples of virtue and appear in the writings of most Roman authors

    Of  all the things which I have propounded that which I mentioned first appears the most difficult:  that those things, at which we quake and tremble, are for the good of  those to whom they happen.  "Is it for their good," do you say, "to be driven into exile, to be reduced to poverty, to bear to the grave wife and children, to be visited with disgrace, to be disabled?"  If you are surprised that these are to any one's advantage, you will be surprised that some are cured by fire and knife, as well as by hunger and thirst.  But if you consider that  some for the sake of  a cure have their bones scraped and extracted, their veins taken out, and some of their limbs taken off, which could not remain without the destruction of the whole body, you will allow this also to be proven to you,  that some misfortunes are for the good of those to whom  they happen, as much, by Hercules, as some  things which are praised and sought after are injurious to those who delight in them; as indigestion, drunkenness, and other things which destroy us through pleasure.  Among many excellent sayings of our Demetrius is this which I carry fresh in memory:  it still sounds and resounds in my ears. "Nothing,"  said he, "seems to me more unfortunate than a man on whom no misfortune has ever fallen."  For he has not had the privilege of testing himself.  Although everything has happened to him according to his wish, or even before he could express a wish, yet the gods thought unfavorably of  him; at no time did he appear to them worthy to overcome ill fortune, which shuns the greatest coward as if  it said:  "Why should I take that one for my antagonist? he will at once lay down his arms:  there is no need of my whole strength against him:  he will be put to flight by a mere menace:  he cannot withstand my look.  Let another be sought with whom I may fight hand to hand;  I am ashamed to fight with a man who is prepared to be conquered."  The gladiator considers it a disgrace to be matched with an inferior and knows that he who has conquered without  danger has conquered without glory.  Fortune does the same; she seeks out the bravest for her opponents, and passes over some with contempt.  She attacks the most unyielding and upright against whom she may exert her strength.  She tried Mucius by fire, Fabricious by poverty, Rutilius by  exile, Regulus by tortures, Socrates by poison, Cato by death.  Misfortune alone reveals great examples.

    Is  Mucius unhappy because he grasped the fire of the enemy with his right  hand, and of his own accord paid the penalty of his mistake? because he put to flight the king with his hand when it was burned, though  he could not do so while it was armed?  What then?  Would  he have been happier, if he had warmed his hand in his mistress's bosom?  Is Fabricius  unhappy, because he cultivated his own land while not engaged in public duties? because he waged war against riches  as firmly as against Pyrrhus?  because he ate at his own hearth those very roots and herbs which he himself, though an old man and one who had celebrated a triumph, had dug up in clearing his field? what then? would he have been happier, if he had filled his belly with fish from a far distant shore and birds caught in foreign lands? if he had stimulated the weakness of his loathing stomach with shell-fish from the upper and the lower sea?  if he had surrounded with a great heap of fruits the beautiful game, captured  with the loss of many hunters?  Is Rutilius unhappy because those who condemned him will be forced to plead their cause in all ages? because he suffered the loss of his native land with a calmer mind than that of his exile? because he was the only man who refused anything to Sulla the dictator, and when recalled, not merely held back, but fled further away?  "Let those see to it," said he, "whom thy good fortune  catches at Rome.  Let those see streams of  blood in the forum, and the heads of senators above the Lake of Servilius--for this is the cutthroat place for the victims of Sulla's  proscription,--and bands of murderers wandering here and there through the city, and many thousands of Roman citizens slaughtered in one place after a pledge of protection had  been given, nay, by means of that very pledge.  Let those behold such sights who are unable to live in exile."  What then?  Is Lucius Sulla happy, because when he goes into the forum room is made for him with the sword , because he suffers the heads of  men of consular rank to be shown to him and pays the price of blood through the quaestor and the public treasury?  And all this that man does, that man who passed the Cornelian law.  

NOTE:  "Terentia": The  wife of  Maecenas.  She is used here as an extreme example of vice. 

    Let us come to Regulus:  how did fortune injure him, when she made him an example of good faith, an example of patience?  Nails pierce his skin, and wherever he lays his weary body, he rests on a wound, while his eyes are kept open in eternal sleeplessness.  The greater the torment, the greater is his glory.  Do you wish to know how far he is from repenting that he valued his honor at this price?  Restore him  and send him into the senate:  he will give the same advice.  Do you  then consider Maecenas happier, who, when troubled with jealousy, and weeping  at the daily repulses of his captious  wife, seeks sleep through the harmony of  pleasing music sounding softly in the distance?  Although he drown himself in wine, divert himself with the noise of water, and beguile his troubled mind with a thousand pleasures, yet he will keep awake on his downy couch as much as Regulus on the rack.  But it is a consolation to the latter that he endures sufferings for the sake of honor and he looks away from  his suffering to the cause:  the other, enervated with pleasures and struggling with too much good  fortune, is troubled more by the cause of his sufferings than by the things which he suffers.  Vice has not taken possession of the human race to such an  extent that, if men were allowed to choose their destiny, there can be any doubt that the majority would rather be born Reguluses than Maecenases.  Or if there were anyone who dared to say that he would rather be born a Maecenas than a Regulus, that same man, though he does not say so, would prefer to be born a Terentia.  

    Do you think that Socrates was badly treated, because he drank that potion which was mixed by order of the state as though it were a remedy to make him immortal,  and argued about death until  death itself? because his blood froze and the vital power of his veins gradually stopped as death's cold chill spread over them?  How much more is this one to be envied than those who are served on vessels of precious stones, for whom a servant trained to endure everything, whose manhood is gone or is at least  questionable, mixes snow  with wine in a golden cup?  These men relieve themselves by vomiting whatever they drink, being miserable and having the after-taste of their own bile, while he gladly and willingly drinks the poison. 

NOTE: "Vatinius":  Through the influence of Caesar, Vatinus, a worthless fellow, was chosen praetor instead of Cato

    As touching Cato, enough has been said, and the world will agree that he reached the highest happiness, whom nature chose as one with whom she might contend in her most dreaded form.  Are the enmities of great men hard to bear?  Let him be opposed at the same time by Pompeius, Caesar and Crassus.  Is it grievous  to be surpassed in honor  by one's inferiors?  Let him be defeated by Vatinius.  Is it hard to take part in civil wars?  Let him fight for a good cause in every corner of the earth with as much persistence as ill luck.  Is it  hard to die by one's own hand?  Let him do it.  What shall I effect by speaking of  these things?  That all men may know that these things, of which I deem Cato worthy, are not evils.

    4.  Prosperity comes to the common people and to those of mean abilities; but it is the part of a  great man to overcome the disasters and terrors of  mortals.  But to be always happy and to pass through life without vexation of mind is to be ignorant of  the other side of human life.  You are a great man, but how am I  to know it, if fortune does not give you an opportunity of showing your virtue?  You  went into the Olympian games, but no one besides yourself:  you have the crown, but not the victory.  I do not congratulate you  as a brave man, but in the same way as one who has obtained a consulship or a praetorship:  you have merely increased in outward dignity.  The same I  can also say to a good men, if no specially trying exigency has offered him opportunity of showing the strength of his mind.  "I consider you unhappy, because you have never been unhappy:  you  have gone through life without an adversary.  No one will know what you are able to do., you will not even know yourself."  For experience is necessary to get a knowledge of one's self:  no man has ever learned his own powers except by trial.  Therefore some men have voluntarily exposed themselves to misfortunes which were passing them by and sought an opportunity for their virtue--about to pass into obscurity--to distinguish itself.  Great men, I say,  rejoice at times in adversities just as brave soldiers do in wars.  I heard a gladiator under Tiberius Caesar (i.e., Caligula) complaining about  the scarcity of prizes:  "What a fine time,'" said he, "is past!"  

    Valor is eager for danger and thinks only of its aim not what it will suffer, since even what it will suffer is a part of its glory.  Soldiers glory in their wounds and joyfully speak of the blood which they were so fortunate to shed.  Although those who return unwounded from battle may have done as well, he who returns wounded  is more admired. God,  I say, cares for those whom He desires to be the most noble, as often as He affords them the opportunity of performing anything with spirit and courage, for the accomplishment of which there is need of some difficulty. You can judge of the pilot in a storm, and a soldier in battle.  How can I know how much courage you have to undergo poverty, if you are running over with riches?  How can I know how much firmness you have against  disgrace, dishonor and public hatred, if you grow old in the midst of applause?  if a popular favor which is inalienable and which binds the hearts of all men to you is accustomed to follow you?  How do I know how patiently you will endure the loss of your children if you always see those whom you have begotten?  I have heard you when you were comforting others:  then I should have seen whether you could have comforted yourself, whether you could have forbidden yourself  to grieve.

    Do not, I beseech you, be greatly frightened at those things which the immortal gods apply to our minds as incentives.  Misfortune  is virtue's opportunity.  One may justly call those men miserable who become torpid through an excess of enjoyment, whom, as on a motionless sea, a dead calm detains.  Whatever befalls them will seem strange to them:  dire calamities affect those most who are inexperienced:  it is hard for those whose necks are tender to bear the yoke.  A recruit grows pale at the very thought of a wound; the veteran, who knows that he has often been victorious  after the loss of blood, boldly looks at his own gore.  Those, therefore, whom God proves and loves, He hardens, examines, and exercises:  but those whom He seems to indulge and spare, He is keeping because of their weakness for evils yet to come.  You are mistaken if you think any one  is exempt:  his own share will come to him though he has long been happy.  Whoever appears to be freed from them, has only had them deferred.  Why does God afflict the best men with ill health, or sorrow, or other losses?  Because also in the army the most dangerous enterprises are assigned to the bravest soldiers:  a general sends  the picked men of his army to attack the enemy in a midnight ambuscade, to ascertain his line of march, or to drive the garrison from its position.  No one of those  men who sally forth  says, "The general has treated me badly"; but, "he has thought well of me."  Let those who are commanded to suffer the things which cause weak and cowardly men to weep say the same:  "God has considered us worthy on whom to try how much human nature can endure."

    Avoid luxury, avoid effeminate enjoyment, by which men's minds  are enervated, and, unless something occurs to admonish them of  their human condition, are lulled to sleep as it were in continual drunkenness.  One whom windows have always protected from the blast, whose feet have been kept warm by constantly renewed applications, whose dining-hall has been heated by hot air let under the floor and spread through the walls, the most gentle breeze will not touch without danger.  Although all things are injurious which exceed the proper limit, unlimited prosperity is the most dangerous.  It affects the brain, awakens vain imaginations in the mind, and spreads over it a darkness that fluctuates between truth  and error.  Is it not better for them to endure continual misfortune, summoning virtue to their aid, than to be ruined by an unceasing and immoderate prosperity?  Death from hunger is less painful; indigestion rends men asunder.

    The gods, therefore, in dealing with good men,  follow the plan which teachers employ with their pupils, who require more labors from those of whom they have the greatest hopes.  Do you believe that the Lacedaemonians hated their children whose mettle  they tried by publicly flogging them?  Their own fathers encouraged them to endure the blows of the lash bravely, and begged them, though torn and half dead, to continue to receive wounds upon wounds.  Why should we wonder if God tries noble spirits severely?  Virtue's  trials are never easy.  Fortune scourges and wounds us:  we endure it:  it is not  cruelty, it is a conquest:  the oftener we undergo it, the braver we shall become.  The strongest part of the body is that which frequent use has called into action.  We must surrender ourselves to fortune to be hardened by her against herself.  She may gradually make us a match for herself:   the constant presence of danger will cause us to despise it.  Thus the bodies of sailors are hardened by enduring the sea; the hands of farmers are hardened by work; the arms of soldiers are strengthened  to hurl darts; the legs of racers are kept agile.  In each  one that part is the strongest which he has exercised.

NOTE:  "Hister":  the lower part of the Danube.

    By endurance the mind learns to despise the power of evils; and you will know what this can effect in us if you observe how much labor accomplishes among tribes that are naked and made stronger by want.  Consider all the nations that are beyond the bounds of the Roman Empire;  I mean the Germans and all the other wandering tribes that attack us along the Hister.  Perpetual winter and a dismal climate oppress them, a barren soil  grudgingly  sustains them, they keep off the rain with straw or leaves, they speed across frozen waters and capture wild beasts for food.  Do they appear wretched to you?  There is no wretchedness in that which habit has made a part of one's nature:  for gradually those things become a pleasure which men at first do of  necessity.  They  have  no homes, no dwelling places, except those which weariness offers them for the day.  Their food is poor, and even this must be  sought with their own hands; the severity of the climate is terrible, and their bodies are without clothing:   this which appears to you a misfortune is the life of all these tribes.  Why do you wonder that good men are troubled in order that they may be strengthened?  A tree is neither firm nor strong unless frequent winds blow against it; for it is strengthened by this very shaking and fixes its roots  more firmly.  Those which grow in a sunny valley are easily broken.  It is therefore to the advantage of good men, in order that they may be able to remain unterrified, to live much amidst dangers, and to endure with a calm mind those things which are not evil except to him who endures them badly.

     5.  Now add to this that it is to the interest of all that the best men, so to speak, should see service and perform labors.  It is God's  purpose, as it is that of the philosopher, to show that those things which the rabble longs for and dreads are neither good nor bad : but they will appear to be good, if he bestows them upon good men, and to be evil, if He only inflicts them upon evil men.  Blindness would be execrable if no one should lose his eyes except those who deserve to have them torn out.  Therefore let Appius and Metellus be deprived of sight.  Riches are not a good thing.  Therefore let such a pander as Elius have them, in order that men may see their money in a brothel, although they had consecrated it in the temples.  In no better way can God expose those things to contempt and ridicule which we are accustomed to desire than by bestowing them on the basest of men, and taking them from the best.  "But," some one says, "it is unjust that a good man should be weakened, or restrained, or bound, and that the wicked should stalk about freely and luxuriously with uninjured bodies."  What then?  Is is not unjust that brave men should take arms, pass the night in camp, and with bandaged wounds stand on guard before the wall, while the lascivious and those professing unchasteness are secure in the city?  What then?  Is it not unjust that the most noble maidens should be roused at night to perform the sacred rites, while abandoned women enjoy the soundest sleep?  Labor calls for the best men.  The senate often sits in council through the whole day, while at the same time the most worthless men spend their leisure in the Campus Martius, or lurk in a tavern, or squander their time in some social gathering.  

    The same thing happens in the world at large : good men labor, sacrifice, and are themselves sacrificed, and that too, willingly; they are not drawn by fortune, they follow her and keep step with her : if they had known how, they would have outstripped her.  I remember also that I have heard this spirited speech of that very brave man Demetrius: "Immortal gods," said he, "I can complain of this one thing concerning you,  that you did not make your will known to me earlier.  For I would sooner have come to those things which I am now called upon to face.  Do you wish to take my children?  I brought them up for you.  Do you wish any part of my body?  Take it.  It is no great thing I offer : I shall soon give up the whole of it.  Do you wish my life?  Why not?  I will make no effort to hinder you from receiving back what you haven given : whatever you desire you shall receive from me willingly.  What is is then?  I would rather offer it than be compelled to surrender it.  What need was there to take it away?  You could have received it.  But not even now shall you take it away, because nothing can be taken from one who offers no resistance.

    I suffer no constraint, I endure nothing against my will, nor am I a slave to God, but I am in harmony with Him; and so much the more because I know that all things move because I know that all things move on forever according to a certain and fixed law."  The fates guide us and the first hour of our birth determines how much time is allotted to each one of us.  One cause depends upon another and a long chain of events influences public and private affairs.  Therefore everything must be bravely endured, because all things do not, as we thing, merely happen, but come according to a fixed law.  It was determined long ago at what you should rejoice, and at what you should weep; although the lives of individual men seem to differ in a great variety of ways, in the end it amounts to the same thing: we receive things which will perish, doomed ourselves to perish.  Why therefore are we displeased?  Why do we complain?  For this we are destined.  Let nature use her own bodies at her will : let us be joyous in everything and bravely consider that nothing of our own perishes.  

    What is the part of a good man?  To submit himself to destiny.  It is a great comfort to be carried away in company with the whole world.  Whatever it is which commanded us thus to live, and thus to die, binds the gods also by the same necessity : an unchangeable course carries along human and divine affairs alike.  The Creator and ruler of all has indeed written the decrees of fate, but He also follows them : He always obeys, He commanded but once.  "But why was God so unjust in the distribution of fate, as to give poverty, wounds, and painful deaths to good men?"  The workman cannot change his material : it must be accepted as it is.  Some things cannot be separated from some others.  They cling together and are indivisible.  Weak natures and those inclined to sleep or to a wakefulness which resembles sleep are composed of sluggish  elements : it requires a stronger fate to produce a man who must be spoken of with consideration.  He will not have a level road : he much go up and down, be driven hither and thither, and guide his ship in a troubled fortune.  Many hard and rough things will happen, but they are such as he himself can soften and make smooth.  Gold is tried by fire, brave men by calamities.  See how high virtue must ascend : you will perceive that she has a path to tread that is fraught with danger.  "The first part of the way is steep and the steeds, though fresh in the early morn, can scarcely ascend it : the highest point is in the middle of the heaven whence I myself often dread to look upon the sea and the lands, and my heart beats with anxious fear.  At the end the road descends steadily and requires a steady guidance.  Even Tethys herself, who receives me in the undulating deep, is wont to fear in her depths below, lest I should fall headlong."  When the noble youth had heard this, he said, "The way pleases me: I will ascend it : it is worth the effort to go through these, even though one fall."  He did not cease from endeavoring to frighten his rash courage with terrors : "Although you may keep the road and be turned aside by no mistake, you shall go through the horns of the opposing Bull, through the Haemonian bow and the mouth of the fierce Lion."  After this he said, "Harness the steeds to the chariot : I am spurred on by these things with which you think to frighten me : I want to stand where the Sun himself trembles : it is the part of an ignoble and weak mind to run after security : courage goes in lofty places."

    6.  "Yet why does God allow any evil to happen to good men?"  But he does not allow it.  He removes from them all evils, such as crimes, disgraceful deeds, wicked thoughts, greedy plans, blind lust, and avarice coveting another's fortune.  He defends and protects them.  Does any one demand this from God, that He should also give heed to the burdens of good men?  They themselves resign this care to God : they despise external things.  Democritus gave up his riches, considering them a burden to a noble mind : why, therefore, do you wonder if God permits that to happen to a good man, which a good man sometimes desires to happen to himself?  "Good men lose their children."  Why not, since they sometimes even kill them?  "They are sent into exile."  Why not, since sometimes they themselves leave their native land intending never to return?  "They are slain."  Why not, since sometimes they themselves take their own lives?  "Why do they suffer certain hardships?"  That they may teach others how to suffer: they were born to be examples.

    Think, therefore, that God says  : "What cause have you to complain of me, you, who take pleasure in justice?  I have surrounded others with false blessings and have deluded their vain minds as it were with a long and deceiving dream : I have adorned them with gold, silver, and ivory, but within them there is nothing good.  Those whom you look upon as fortunate, if you could see not their outer but their inner life, are wretched, squalid, disgraceful, adorned on the outside after the manner of their own walls.  That good fortune is not substantial and genuine : it is a crust and indeed a thin one.  Therefore as long as they can stand and show themselves according to their own will, they shine and deceive us  : but when anything happens which disquiets and exposes them. then it appears how much deep and  real rottenness and external magnificence has concealed.  To you I have given sure and permanent blessings, which will appear to be better and greater the more one considers and examines them for every side.  I have permitted you to despise that which ought to be feared and to scorn passions : you do not shine outwardly, your good qualities are turned inwards.  So the universe, pleased with the contemplation of itself, despises external things.  I have placed every good thing within.  It is your good fortune not to need good fortune. 

    'But many things happen which are sad, terrible, and hard to be borne.'  Because I was not able to preserve you from these I have armed your minds against all things.  Bear them bravely : this is the way in which you can surpass God : He is beyond suffering evil, you are above it.  Despise poverty : no one lives as poor as He was born.  Despise pain : either it will be removed or it will remove you.  Despise death : it either ends you or transfers you.  Despise fortune : I have given her no weapon with which she can strike the mind.  Above all things I have taken care that no one should hold you against your will : they way of escape lies open.  If you do not wish to fight, you may flee.  Of all things, therefore, which I made indispensable for you, I have made nothing easier than death.  I have placed life on an incline; it is borne down.  Only consider and you will see how short and easy a way leads to liberty.  I have not imposed such long delays upon your departure from this world as upon your entrance to it : otherwise fortune would hold greater power over you, if a man died as slowly as he is born.  Let all time and every place teach you. how easy it is to renounce nature and to throw her gift in her face.  Among the very altars and during the solemn rites of those who sacrifice, while life is sought for, learn the lesson of death.  Fat bodies of oxen die from a small wound and a blow from a human hand kills animals of great strength : the joint of the neck is severed with a slender sword, and when this joint which connects the head and neck is cut, that great mass falls.  Life is concealed at no great depth nor need it be destroyed by the word alone : the vitals need not be searched by inflicting a deep wound : death is quite near.  I have appointed no fixed place for these blows; it can be reached by whatever road you please.  That very thing which is called dying, wherein the breath leaves the body, is shorter than we may perceive its swiftness.  Whether a knot has strangled the throat, or water has stopped the breathing, or the hardness of the earth beneath has crushed those who fell headlong, or the swallowing of fire has interrupted the course of breathing : whatever it is, it happens quickly.  Why do you blush with shame?  Do you fear for so long a time that which happens so quickly?"