hazards, according as you judge of their lustre and importance; and, a
volunteer, find even life itself excusably employed:

"Pulchrumque mori succurrit in armis."

["'Tis fine to die sword in hand." ("And he remembers that it
is honourable to die in arms.")--AEneid, ii. 317.]


To fear common dangers that concern so great a multitude of men; not to
dare to do what so many sorts of souls, what a whole people dare, is for
a heart that is poor and mean beyond all measure: company encourages even
children. If others excel you in knowledge, in gracefulness, in
strength, or fortune, you have alternative resources at your disposal;
but to give place to them in stability of mind, you can blame no one for
that but yourself. Death is more abject, more languishing and
troublesome, in bed than in a fight: fevers and catarrhs as painful and
mortal as a musket-shot. Whoever has fortified himself valiantly to bear
the accidents of common life need not raise his courage to be a soldier:

"Vivere, mi Lucili, militare est."

["To live, my Lucilius, is (to make war) to be a soldier."
--Seneca, Ep., 96.]

I do not remember that I ever had the itch, and yet scratching is one of
nature's sweetest gratifications, and so much at hand; but repentance
follows too near. I use it most in my ears, which are at intervals apt
to itch.