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Updated: May 29, 2025
Of course we wish it, wish it with a pathetic urgency which is too poignant to bear, and which the wise man bravely stifles. It would all be different if we knew. LECTOR. But does not science even, of late, hold out the promise of its probability? and the greatest poets and thinkers have always been convinced of its truth. SCRIPTOR. The promise of a probability!
I am sure that it matters much to many, to most of us. It does, I know, to me. SCRIPTOR. Less than you think, my dear Lector. Besides, you are really too young to know. It is true that, as years go, you are ten years my senior, but what of that? You have that vigorous health which is the secret of perpetual youth. You have not yet realised decay, not to speak of death.
LECTOR. But you are no fair judge, Scriptor. You say my health, my youth, as you waggishly call it, puts me out of court. Yet surely your ill-health and low spirits just as surely vitiate your judgment? SCRIPTOR. Admitted, so far as my views are the outcome of my particular condition.
Those who possessed a smaller income were described by the term infra classem, below the preeminent class. The word classicus was used in a figurative sense by Aulus Gellius, and applied to writers: a writer of worth and distinction, classicus assiduusque scriptor, a writer who is of account, has real property, and is not lost in the proletariate crowd.
After seventy years of ardent life one needs a long sleep to refresh us in. Besides, age may not be so sure of the advantages of youth. All is not youth that laughs and glitters. Youth has its hopes, which are uncertain; but age has its memories, which are sure; youth has its passions, but age has its comforts. LECTOR. Your answers come gay and pat, Scriptor, but your voice betrays you.
Is it not certain that people are all the better and all the happier for this dream, as you call it? for what seems to me this sustaining faith? SCRIPTOR. Happier? Some people, perhaps, in a lazy, unworthy fashion.
'Malo scriptor delirus, inersque videri, Dum mea delectent mala me vel denique fallunt, Quam sapere. When I came back I found Mardocheus at supper with his numerous family, composed of eleven or twelve individuals, and including his mother an old woman of ninety, who looked very well.
It is generally supposed that Jornandez, whose works are so valuable for their history of the fifth and sixth centuries of our aera, when speaking, in the second chapter of his History of the Goths, of one "Cornelius as the author of Annals," is speaking of Tacitus, "Cornelius etiam Annalium scriptor."
SCRIPTOR. Hopes! wishes! desires! What of them? We hope, we desire all things. Who has not cried for the moon in his time? But what is the use of talking of what we desire? Does life give us all we wish, however passionately we wish it, and is Death any more likely to listen to the cry of our desires?
LECTOR. But, my friend, this is to feel too much; it is morbid. SCRIPTOR. Morbid! How can one really feel and not be morbid? If one be morbid, one can still be brave. LECTOR. But surely, true-lover as you are, it would be a joy to you to think that this terrible parting of death will not be final. We cannot love so well without hoping that we may meet our loved ones somewhere after death.
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