Seneca passes through Pompeii, Lucilius’s beloved hometown, and is suddenly face to face with his own youth. That sets off one of his most famous images: life as a voyage, with boyhood, youth and middle age slipping below the horizon one after another, and death not as a reef to fear but as the harbor every ship must one day enter. The rest of the letter is one of the hardest in the collection, because it sets out the ancient Stoic view on choosing the time of one’s death. We render the opening and Seneca’s cautions in full and summarize the remaining passages in brackets.
A note for readers: this letter reflects ancient Roman views on choosing death, views that most of us, and modern medicine, see very differently. Even Seneca warned elsewhere against rushing toward death. Its lasting value is in its call to live well and without fear. If you or someone you love is struggling, please reach out — in the US, call or text 988 (Suicide and Crisis Lifeline); help is available in most countries.
From Seneca to Lucilius
After many years, I’ve seen your beloved Pompeii again. It brought me face to face with the days of my youth. I felt as if I could still do, as if I had only just done, all the things I did there as a young man.
Sailing Past Life
We’ve sailed past life, Lucilius, as if we were on a voyage. At sea, to quote our poet Vergil,
Lands and towns are left astern,
and so too on this journey. On this journey, where time flies fastest, we put first our boyhood below the horizon, then our youth. Then goes the stretch between young adulthood and middle age that borders on both, and next the best years of old age itself. Last of all, we begin to sight the end that waits for the whole human race.
Foolish as we are, we think that end is a dangerous reef. But it’s the harbor, where we must one day put in, and which we can never refuse to enter. If someone reaches this harbor in his early years, he has no more right to complain than a sailor who has made a quick voyage. Some sailors, as you know, are tricked and held back by sluggish winds, and grow weary and sick of the slow calm. Others are carried home quickly by steady gales.
Quality, Not Quantity
You can see the same thing happening to us. Life has carried some people at great speed to the harbor they were bound to reach anyway, even if they lingered on the way, while it has fretted and harassed others. Being alive is not a good in itself; living well is.
[Sections 4–7, summarized: Seneca sets out the Stoic view, common in his time, that a wise person weighs the quality of a life rather than its length, and that in some circumstances the wise may choose the time of their own death. He tells of Telesphorus of Rhodes, who was kept in a cage by a tyrant and chose to go on living in hope, and Seneca criticizes him. This passage is summarized here rather than rendered in full.]Don’t Die From Fear of Dying
Even so, there are times when a person who knows that death is certain and that torture is coming will still refuse to lend a hand to his own punishment. He’ll lend a hand to himself instead, to staying alive and bearing what comes. It’s folly to die through fear of dying. The executioner is on his way; wait for him. Why get ahead of him? Why take over a cruel job that belongs to someone else? Do you envy the executioner his privilege, or are you just saving him the trouble?
Socrates could have hastened his own end. Instead, he spent thirty days in prison waiting for death. He didn’t think, “Anything might happen,” or “So long a wait leaves room for plenty of hope.” He waited to show himself obedient to the laws, and to make his last days a gift to his friends. What could be more foolish than to scorn death, and yet fear poison?
[Sections 10–15, summarized: Seneca tells of Drusus Libo, a young nobleman condemned under the emperor Tiberius, and the advice his aunt Scribonia gave him. He then argues that no general rule can be given, and sets out the Stoic case that a person facing torture or a cruel death may choose the manner of it. This passage is summarized here rather than rendered in full.]Live as a Tenant
What makes us so lazy and sluggish about all this? None of us stops to think that some day we must move out of this house of life. We’re like old tenants who are kept from moving by their fondness for a place and by habit, even when they’re treated badly.
Would you be free of the hold your body has on you? Live in it as if you’re about to leave it. Keep in mind that one day you’ll lose this lease; then you’ll face the necessity of leaving more bravely. But how will someone think about his own end if he craves everything without end?
The One Test That Comes for Everyone
And yet nothing is more essential for us to think about. Our training in other things may turn out to be unnecessary. We’ve prepared our minds to face poverty, but our money has held out. We’ve armed ourselves to scorn pain, but we’ve been lucky enough to have sound, healthy bodies, so we’ve never had to put that strength to the test. We’ve taught ourselves to bear the loss of those we love, but Fortune has kept all of them for us. In this one matter alone, the day will come that tests our training.
[Sections 19–28, summarized: Seneca closes with stories of captives in the Roman arena who ended their own lives rather than be made to fight and die for a crowd’s entertainment, and argues that reason, not fear, should govern how we meet death. These stories and their details are summarized here rather than rendered. Elsewhere Seneca warns sharply against a rush toward death (Letter 24), and in Letter 104 he tells how he chose to keep living for his wife’s sake.]Farewell.
Breaking It Down: A Modern Take on Letter 70
Letter 70 opens with one of the loveliest images in all of Seneca: life as a voyage past a coastline, each stage of life dropping below the horizon behind us. Then it turns to an ancient debate that most modern readers, and modern medicine, see very differently: whether a person may choose the time of death. We’ve kept the parts of the letter that speak to everyone, about time, fear, and living well, and summarized the rest. Here is what’s worth carrying away, and where we part ways with Seneca.
1. Life moves faster than it feels
Standing in Pompeii, Seneca feels his youth was only yesterday. “On this journey, where time flies fastest, we put first our boyhood below the horizon, then our youth.” Every stage of life slips away while we’re busy looking ahead.
2. Death is a harbor, not a reef
We picture the end of life as a shipwreck. Seneca pictures it as coming home: “it’s the harbor, where we must one day put in.” Seeing death as a natural part of the voyage takes away much of its terror.
3. Living well beats merely living
“Being alive is not a good in itself; living well is.” The question isn’t how many years we get but what we do with them, how kindly, honestly, and bravely we spend them.
4. Don’t let fear make your choices
“It’s folly to die through fear of dying.” Seneca himself says that panic is never a good reason to act. The same is true of any decision made in a moment of dread.
5. Socrates stayed for his friends
Socrates waited thirty days in prison, “to show himself obedient to the laws, and to make his last days a gift to his friends.” Our last days, and all our days, can be a gift to the people around us.
6. Live like a good tenant
“Live in it as if you’re about to leave it.” Holding our lives a little more lightly doesn’t mean caring less. It means clinging less, and being less ruled by fear.
7. Some lessons only life can test
We prepare for poverty, pain and loss, and sometimes never face them. But “in this one matter alone, the day will come that tests our training.” That’s why Seneca keeps returning to death: so it won’t catch us unprepared.
8. Where we part ways with Seneca
The Stoics argued about this question among themselves, and Seneca was not consistent. In Letter 24 he condemns a fashionable rush toward death, and in Letter 104 he chooses to keep living because his wife needs him. Today we know that thoughts of ending one’s life usually come in waves that pass, and that they respond to care, connection and treatment. Reaching out is not weakness; it’s exactly the kind of courage Seneca admired.
9. The lasting lesson
Strip away the ancient arguments and the heart of the letter is simple: don’t waste the voyage. “Being alive is not a good in itself; living well is.” Let the shortness of life make you braver and kinder, not more afraid.
Key Takeaways from Letter 70
- Read with care. This letter reflects ancient views on choosing death that modern care sees very differently.
- Reach out if you’re struggling. In the US, call or text 988.
- Notice how fast life moves. Youth slips below the horizon quickly.
- See death as a harbor. It’s a natural part of the voyage, not a shipwreck.
- Live well, not just long. Quality matters more than quantity.
- Don’t act from fear. Panic is never a good guide.
- Make your days a gift. Like Socrates, think of the people around you.
- Hold life lightly. Live like a tenant, not a hoarder.
- Prepare for the one sure test. Think about death so it won’t catch you unready.
“On this journey, where time flies fastest, we put first our boyhood below the horizon, then our youth.”
— Seneca, Letter 70
Next up: Letter 71 — On the Supreme Good
