A Letter of Condolence to Apollonius (34-35)

The fact that those who excel in virtues pass on to their fate while young, as though beloved of the gods, I have already called to your attention in an earlier part [*] of my letter, and I shall endeavour at this time to touch upon it very briefly, merely adding my testimony to that which has been so well said by Menander [*]:

Whom the gods love dies young.

But perhaps, my dearest Apollonius, you would say in retort that your young son had been placed under the special care of Apollo and the Fates, and that it should have been you who, on departing this life, received the last offices from him, after he had come to full manhood; for this, you say, is in accordance with nature. Yes, in accordance with your nature, no doubt, and mine, and that of mankind in general, but not in accordance with the Providence which presides over all or with the universal dispensation. But for that boy, now among the blessed, it was not in accordance with nature that he should tarry beyond the time allotted to him for life on this earth, but that, after fulfilling this term with due obedience, he should set forth to meet his fate, which was already (to use his own words [*]) summoning him to himself. But he died untimely. Yes, but for this very reason his lot is happier, and he is spared many evils; for Euripides [*] says:

Life bears the name of life, being but toil.

But he, in the most blooming period of his years, has departed early, a perfect youth, envied and admired by all who knew him. He was fond of his father and mother and his relatives and friends, or, to put it in a word, he loved his fellow men; he respected the elderly among his friends as fathers, he was affectionate towards his companions and familiar friends, he honoured his teachers, and was most kind toward strangers and citizens, gentle with all and beloved of all, both because of his charm of appearance and because of his affable kindliness.

Ah well, but he, bearing with him the fair and fitting fame of your righteousness and his own conjoined, has departed early to eternity from out this mortal life, as from an evening party, before falling into any such grossness of conduct as is wont to be the concomitant of a long old age. And if the account of the ancient poets and philosophers is true, as it most likely is, and so there is for those of the departed who have been righteous a certain honour and preferment, as is said, and a place set apart in which their souls pass their existence, then you ought to be of good hope for your dear departed son that he will be reckoned among their number and will be with them.

These are the words of the melic poet Pindar [*] regarding the righteous in the other world:

For them doth the strength of the sun shine below, While night all the earth doth overstrow.

In meadows of roses their suburbs lie, Roses all tinged with a crimson dye. They are shaded by trees that incense bear, And trees with golden fruit so fair. Some with horses and sports of might, Others in music and draughts delight. Happiness there grows ever apace, Perfumes are wafted o’er the loved place, As the incense they strew where the gods’ altars are And the fire that consumes it is seen from afar.

And a little farther on, in another lament for the dead, speaking of the soul, he says [*]:

In happy fate they all [*] Were freed by death from labour’s thrall. Man’s body follows at the beck of death O’ermastering. Alive is left The image of the stature that he gained, Since this alone is from the gods obtained. It sleeps while limbs move to and fro, But, while we sleep, in dreams doth show The choice we cannot disregard Between the pleasant and the hard.