When shall we cease to believe that death, and not
life, is important; that misfortune is greater than happiness? Why,
when we try to sum up a man's destiny, keep our eyes fixed only on
the tears that he shed, and never on the smiles of his joy? Where
have we learned that death fixes the value of life, and not life
that of death? We deplore the destiny of Socrates, Duncart,
Antigone, and many others whose lives were noble; we deplore; their
destiny because their end was sudden and cruel; and we are fain to
admit that misfortune prevails over wisdom and virtue alike. But,
first of all, you yourself are neither just nor wise if you seek in
wisdom and justice aught else but wisdom and justice alone. And
further, what right have we thus to sum up an entire existence in
the one hour of death? Why conclude, from the fact that Socrates and
Antigone met with unhappy ends, that it was their wisdom or virtue
brought unhappiness to them? Does death occupy more space in life
than birth? Yet do you not take the sage's birth into account as you
ponder over his destiny. Happiness or unhappiness arises from all
that we do from the day of our birth to the day of our death; and it
is not in death, but indeed in the days and the years that precede
it, that we can discover a man's true happiness or sorrow--in a
word, his destiny.
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