This gift of life, which is bestowed upon us by nature, is extremely uncertain and frail, whatever portion of it may be allotted to us. The measure is, indeed, but scanty and brief, even when it is the largest, if we only reflect upon the extent of eternity. And then, besides, if we take into account our sleep during the night, we can only be properly said to live half the period of our life; seeing that just one half of it is passed, either in a state resembling death, or else of bodily suffering, if we are unable to sleep. Added to this, we ought not to reckon the years of infancy, during which we are not sensible of our existence, nor yet the years of old age, which is prolonged only for the punishment of those who arrive at it. There are so many kinds of dangers, so many diseases, so many apprehensions, so many cares, we so often invoke death, that really there is nothing that is so often the object of our wishes. Nature has, in reality, bestowed no greater blessing on man than the shortness of life. The senses become dull, the limbs torpid, the sight, the hearing, the legs, the teeth, and the organs of digestion, all of them die before us, and yet we reckon this state as a part of our life. The solitary instance of Xenophilus, the musician,[1300] who lived one hundred and five years without any infirmity of body, must be regarded then as a kind of miracle; for, by Hercules! all other men are subject, at certain fixed periods, to recurring and deadly attacks by heat or cold, in every part of the body, a thing that is not the case with other animals; and these attacks, too, return not only at regular hours, but on certain days and certain nights—sometimes the third day, sometimes the fourth, sometimes every day throughout the year.
And then, too, there is another kind of fatal disease, that which is produced by over-exertion of the mental faculties.[1301] Nature has appointed certain laws as well for our maladies; quartan fevers never commence at the winter solstice, nor yet during the winter months; some diseases never attack us after the sixtieth year; some again disappear at the age of puberty, especially in females;[1302] while aged persons are but seldom affected by the plague. There are some diseases which attack whole nations; others prevail among classes; some among slaves,[1303] others among the higher ranks, and others among other classes of society. It has been remarked, in reference to this subject, that the plague always takes a course from the south towards the west,[1304] and scarcely ever in an opposite direction; it never appears in the winter, or lasts longer than three months.
CHAP. 52. (51.)—DEATH.
And now to speak of the premonitory signs of death. Among these are laughter, in madness;[1305] in cases of delirium,[1306] the patient carefully folding the fringe or the plaits of the bedclothes;[1307] insensibility to the attempts of those who would rouse them from sleep; and involuntary discharges from the body, which it is not necessary here to particularize; but the most unequivocal signs of all, are certain appearances of the eyes and the nose, a lying posture with the face continually upwards, an irregular and feeble motion of the pulse,[1308] and the other symptoms, which have been observed by that prince of physicians, Hippocrates. At the same time that there are innumerable signs of death, there are none of health and safety; so much so, that Cato the Censor, when speaking to his son in relation to those who appear to be in good health, declared, as though it had been the enunciation of some oracle,[1309] that precocity in youth is a sign of an early death.[1310]
The number of diseases is infinite. Pherecydes of Scyros died from vast numbers of worms issuing from his body.[1311] Some persons are distressed by a perpetual fever; such was the case with C. Mæcenas; during the last three years of his life, he could never get a single moment’s sleep.[1312] Antipater of Sidon, the poet, was attacked with fever every year, and that only on his birthday; he died of it at an advanced age.[1313]
CHAP. 53. (52.)—PERSONS WHO HAVE COME TO LIFE AGAIN AFTER BEING LAID OUT FOR BURIAL.
Aviola,[1314] a man of consular rank, came to life again when on the funeral pile; but, by reason of the violence of the flames, no assistance could be rendered him, in consequence of which he was burnt alive. The same thing is said to have happened to L. Lamia, a man of prætorian rank. Messala, Rufus,[1315] and many other authors, inform us, that C. Ælius Tubero, who had filled the office of prætor, was also rescued from the funeral pile. Such then is the condition of us mortals: to these and the like vicissitudes of fortune are we born; so much so, that we cannot be sure of any thing, no, not even that a person is dead. With reference to the soul of man, we find, among other instances, that the soul of Hermotinus of Clazomenæ was in the habit of leaving his body, and wandering into distant countries, whence it brought back numerous accounts of various things, which could not have been obtained by any one but a person who was present. The body, in the meantime, was left apparently lifeless.[1316] At last, however, his enemies, the Cantharidæ,[1317] as they were called, burned the body, so that the soul, on its return, was deprived of its sheath, as it were. It is stated also, that in Proconnesus,[1318] the soul of Aristeas was seen to fly out of his mouth, under the form of a raven;[1319] a most fabulous story, however, which may be well ranked with the one that follows. It is told of Epimenides[1320] of Cnossus, that when he was a boy, being fatigued by heat and walking, he fell asleep in a cave, where he slept for fifty-seven years; and that when he awoke, as though it had been on the following day, he was much astonished at the changes which he saw in the appearance of every thing around him: after this, old age, it is said, came upon him in an equal number of days with the years he had slept, but his life was prolonged to his hundred and fifty-seventh year.[1321] The female sex appear more especially disposed to this morbid state,[1322] on account of the misplacement of the womb;[1323] when this is once corrected, they immediately come to themselves again. The volume of Heraclides[1324] on this subject, which is highly esteemed among the Greeks, contains the account of a female, who was restored to life, after having appeared to be dead for seven days.