We ought to hold with all our force, both of hands and teeth, the use of the pleasures of life that our years, one after another, snatch away from us: "Carpamus dulcia; nostrum est, Quod vivis; cinis, et manes, et fabula fies." ["Let us pluck life's sweets, 'tis for them we live: by and by we shall be ashes, a ghost, a mere subject of talk." -- Persius, Sat., v.

151.] Now, as to the end that Pliny and Cicero propose to us of glory, 'tis infinitely wide of my account.

Ambition is of all others the most contrary humour to solitude; glory and repose are things that cannot possibly inhabit in one and the same place.

For so much as I understand, these have only their arms and legs disengaged from the crowd; their soul and intention remain confined behind more than ever: "Tun', vetule, auriculis alienis colligis escas ?" ["Dost thou, then, old man, collect food for others' ears ?" -- Persius, Sat., i.

22.] they have only retired to take a better leap, and by a stronger motion to give a brisker charge into the crowd.