Nothing That Has an End Is Long…
December 28, 1958
It was recorded of a certain ancient king that he lived a hundred and twenty years, and that he reigned for eighty years — longer than most men live. And then the recorder of this chronology quickly added this significant sentence: “…still nothing that has an end is long.”1 This is a profound thought to think of. As observed, if we have lived twenty-five years, four times the length of the moral life we have lived is a century. If we have lived fifty years, twice the length of the life we have lived is a century. And those who have lived fifty years know that half a century isn’t very long. And if fifty years go so swiftly, so would a century. And if a century isn’t very long, neither would be several centuries. Think how quickly this previous year has passed; how quickly this past month has passed. No matter how long men have lived, for those who have left us, life could be said in a sense, not to have been very long. When we count those who once were with us who are here no more — and count how quickly days have come and gone, we must come to know that “nothing that has an end is long.” And with this awareness we come to know that we are not so far from any past event in human history, nor very far from future eventualities, nor from the facing of our own record, as we all surely shall. (Indeed, as we do every day.) And thus thinking, we come to know that some things which once we may have thought were of first importance seem now not to be so. We come to know that character and truth and intelligence and work and service and peace and kindliness and a quiet conscience, and the love of loved ones and the useful living of life, and faith in God and faith in the future are among things most to be sought for, among the lasting values of life. Yes, the years pass swiftly. We are close to the whole sweep of human history, with real reason soberly to select from among the things which last, the things that mean the most — for whether we are eight or eighty, “nothing that has an end is long”1 — which brings us to a new awareness of time, to a new sense of values, and to an ever more earnest gratitude for each new day, for each new year, and for the everlastingness of life.
1 Marcus Tullius Cicero, On Old Age