Book 3
26
Yes: but my wife and children also suffer hunger.He supposes that the man who is dying of hunger has also wife and children, who will suffer the same dreadful end. The consolation, if it is any, is that the rich and luxurious and kings will also die. The fact is true. Death is the lot of all. But a painful death by hunger cannot be alleviated by a man knowing that all must die in some way. It seems as if the philosopher expected that even women and children should be philosophers, and that the husband in his philosophy should calmly contemplate the death of wife and children by starvation. This is an example of the absurdity t? which even a wise man carried his philosophy; and it is unworthy of the teacher’s general good sense.—Well then, does their hunger lead to any other place? Is there not the same descent to some place for them also? Is not there the same state below for them? Do you not choose then to look to that place full of boldness against every want and deficiency, to that place to which both the richest and those who have held the highest offices, and kings themselves and tyrants must descend? or to which you will descend hungry, if it should so happen, but they burst by indigestion and drunkenness. What beggar did you hardly ever see who was not an old man, and even of extreme old age? But chilled with cold day and night, and lying on the ground, and eating only what is absolutely necessary they approach near to the impossibility of dying.We see many old beggars who endure what others could not endure; but they all die at last, and would have died earlier if their beggar life had begun sooner. The living in the open air and wandering about help them to last longer; but the exposure to cold and wet and to the want of food hastens their end. The life of a poor old beggar is neither so long nor so comfortable as that of a man, who has a good home and sufficient food, and lives with moderation. Cannot you write? Cannot you teach (take care of) children? Cannot you be a watchman at another person’s door?—But it is shameful to come to such a necessity.—Learn then first what are the things which are shameful, and then tell us that you are a philosopher: but at present do not, even if any other man call you so, allow it.
