What good will this curiosity do us, to anticipate all the inconveniences of human nature, and to prepare ourselves with so much trouble against things which, peradventure, will never befall us?

          “Parem passis tristitiam facit, pati posse;”

          ["It troubles men as much that they may possibly suffer,
          as if they really did suffer.”—­Idem, ibid., 74.]

not only the blow, but the wind of the blow strikes us:  or, like phrenetic people—­for certainly it is a phrensy—­to go immediately and whip yourself, because it may so fall out that Fortune may one day make you undergo it; and to put on your furred gown at Midsummer, because you will stand in need of it at Christmas!  Throw yourselves, say they, into the experience of all the evils, the most extreme evils that can possibly befall you, and so be assured of them.  On the contrary, the most easy and most natural way would be to banish even the thoughts of them; they will not come soon enough; their true being will not continue with us long enough; our mind must lengthen and extend them; we must incorporate them in us beforehand, and there entertain them, as if they would not otherwise sufficiently press upon our senses.  “We shall find them heavy enough when they come,” says one of our masters, of none of the tender sects, but of the most severe; “in the meantime, favour thyself; believe what pleases thee best; what good will it do thee to anticipate thy ill fortune, to lose the present for fear of the future:  and to make thyself miserable now, because thou art to be so in time?” These are his words.  Science, indeed, does us one good office in instructing us exactly as to the dimensions of evils,

“Curis acuens mortalia corda!”

     ["Probing mortal hearts with cares.”—­Virgil, Georg., i. 23.]

’Twere pity that any part of their greatness should escape our sense and knowledge.

’Tis certain that for the most part the preparation for death has administered more torment than the thing itself.  It was of old truly said, and by a very judicious author: 

          “Minus afficit sensus fatigatio, quam cogitatio.”

     ["Suffering itself less afflicts the senses than the apprehension
     of suffering.”—­Quintilian, Inst.  Orat., i. 12.]

The sentiment of present death sometimes, of itself, animates us with a prompt resolution not to avoid a thing that is utterly inevitable:  many gladiators have been seen in the olden time, who, after having fought timorously and ill, have courageously entertained death, offering their throats to the enemies’ sword and bidding them despatch.  The sight of future death requires a courage that is slow, and consequently hard to be got.  If you know not how to die, never trouble yourself; nature will, at the time, fully and sufficiently instruct you:  she will exactly do that business for you; take you no care—­