He will succour the tears of others; he will not give way to them. He will give a helping hand to the shipwrecked, shelter to the exile, alms to the needy; he does not do this disdainfully, like the greater part of those who wish to seem compassionate, who disdain those whom they help and fear to be touched by them: but he will give as an equal, a man to a man. He will give the son to his mother’s tears, and will command the fetters to be loosened; he will redeem from the arena the man condemned to fight, and he will even bury the noxious dead body. But he will do this with a peaceful mind and a countenance worthy of himself. Therefore the wise man will not pity, but he will help; he will benefit, as one born for mutual help and the public good; from which he will give each his share; even to the troublesome, in due proportion—to those who are to be disapproved of and reformed, he shows kindness. But he much more willingly comes to the help of the afflicted, and heavily laden.” (_De Clem._ II. 5, 6.) With regard to the life of the soul in a future world as a separate being, Seneca’s mind seems, from his different writings, to have been in an undecided state. Sometimes, however, he rises superior to his doubts and to his Stoic bias, and rejoices in the hope of real immortality. We see the uncertainty under which he laboured in his book written to console Polybius for the loss of his brother. He tells him that, if he lamented, it was either on his own account, or on account of the departed. If on his own account, then he was not wisely submissive to the wisdom which ruled all things. If he lamented for his brother’s sake, then he should reflect that one of two events must have occurred; either that his brother by death had lost consciousness and individuality; or, he was still sensible and conscious. In either case Polybius should reason himself out of grief. He should reflect in this way: “If there remain no sense to the departed, then he has escaped all the inconveniences of life, and is restored to that place where he was before he was born: and, free from all evil, fears nothing, desires nothing, suffers nothing. What madness is it then for me not to cease grieving for him, who never will grieve any more?” In this hypothesis, we see a reference to the ancient Stoic belief respecting the dead. But Seneca proceeds to point out to Polybius a nobler reason for ceasing to mourn. He bids him think, “If there be any consciousness in the dead; now the mind of my brother, as though released from a long imprisonment, at length acts according to its own reason and will; and enjoys the spectacle of the universe, and from a higher place looks down on all human affairs; yet has a nearer insight into those divine mysteries, the design of which he had so long sought in vain to understand.” He adds, “Do not then grieve for your brother; he is at rest. At length he is free, at length he is safe, at length he is immortal. Now he enjoys an