1. A man is truly lazy, my dear Lucilius, if he only remembers a friend when some place reminds him; and yet old familiar spots sometimes wake up a sadness that was sleeping in our hearts, not making us recall what is dead, but stirring what was resting, like seeing a lost friend’s slave, or his cloak, or his house makes us feel grief again, even if time had softened it. Now, when I looked at Campania, and especially Naples and your Pompeii, I suddenly felt a sharp longing for you. You appear right before my eyes. I feel like I am saying goodbye to you. I see you holding back tears, trying but failing to stop them as they rise. I feel like I lost you only a moment ago. For when we use memory, everything feels like it was “just a moment ago.”

2. It was just a moment ago I sat as a boy in the school of Sotion, just a moment ago I spoke in court, just a moment ago I lost the wish to speak, and just a moment ago I lost the ability. Time flies with incredible speed, as we see more clearly when we look back. For when we focus on the present, we do not notice it, so gentle is time’s rush forward.

3. Do you ask why? All past time is in one place; it looks the same to us, it lies together. Everything falls into the same pit. And something so short as life cannot have long parts. The time we live is only a point, even less than a point. But nature has tricked us by making this tiny point seem longer; she has split it into infancy, childhood, youth, the slope from youth to old age, and old age itself. How many steps for such a short climb!

4. It was just a moment ago that I saw you leave; and yet that “moment ago” makes up a big part of our very short life, so short we must remember it will soon end fully. In earlier years, time did not seem so fast to me; now it races, maybe because I feel the end coming closer, or maybe because I have begun to notice and count my losses.

5. This is why I am angry that some people waste most of this short time on useless things—time which, even if guarded carefully, is not enough for what is truly needed. Cicero said that even if he had twice as many days, he would not have enough time to read the lyric poets. And you may put the dialecticians in the same group; but they are foolish in a sadder way. The lyric poets admit they are playful; the dialecticians think their nonsense is serious.

6. I do not deny that one should glance at dialectic; but it should only be a glance, a quick greeting, just enough to avoid being tricked, not because there is anything valuable hidden there. Why tire yourself and waste away over problems it is smarter to ignore than to solve? When a soldier is marching without danger, he can gather trinkets along the way; but when the enemy is close behind, and the command is to move quickly, he must drop everything he picked up in safer times.

7. I have no time to study silly word puzzles or test my skill on them.

“Look! the clans are gathering, the gates are locked, the weapons are sharpened for war.”

I need a brave heart to face this noise of battle that surrounds me.

8. And all would think me mad if, while old men and women were piling stones for the walls, while the young men in armor were waiting for the order to fight, while the enemy’s spears shook at the gates and the earth trembled with tunnels being dug, I sat there wasting time on questions like: “What you have not lost, you have. But you have not lost any horns. Therefore, you have horns.”

9. Yet I would seem just as mad if I wasted my energy on such things now; for I too am under siege. In that case, the danger would be outside the walls; but now death itself is already with me. I have no time for nonsense; I face a great task. What should I do? Death is chasing me, and life is running away.

10. Teach me something that will help me face this. Help me stop trying to escape death, and help me hold on to life. Make me brave against hardship; make me calm when I face what cannot be avoided. Stretch out the little time I have. Show me that the good in life depends not on its length, but on how we use it; and that it is common for a man to live long but too little. Tell me when I lie down: “You may not wake again!” And when I wake: “You may not sleep again!” Tell me when I leave my house: “You may not return!” And when I return: “You may never leave again!”

11. You are wrong if you think that only on a sea voyage life and death are close. No, they are always that close. It is not always clear to us, but death is always near. Remove these shadowy fears from me; then you can more easily give me the lessons I am ready for. At birth nature made us teachable, and gave us reason, not perfect, but able to be perfected.

12. Teach me about justice, duty, thrift, and two kinds of purity—purity that avoids harming another, and purity that cares for oneself. If you refuse to drag me into side paths, I will reach my goal more easily. For, as the tragic poet says: “The language of truth is simple.” We should not make it tricky; nothing is less fitting for a great soul than clever nonsense. Farewell.

Do like it and want to read more letters like this? Download Wiser Life

iOS: https://apps.apple.com/us/app/wiser-life/id6748826834

Android: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.wiserlife.app