They are the guiding oracles which man has found out for himself

There are words that sound not like passing speech, but like the voice of eternity whispering through the heart of man. John Morley, the English statesman and philosopher, once wrote: “They are the guiding oracles which man has found out for himself in that great business of ours, of learning how to be, to do, to do without, and to depart.” In this single sentence, he captured the essence of the human journey — the sacred rhythm of existence, action, sacrifice, and departure. It is a meditation on the four great labors of life: learning how to be, learning how to act, learning how to endure loss, and finally, learning how to leave this world with peace and dignity.

The meaning of Morley’s words lies in his understanding of human progress — not merely technological or intellectual progress, but moral and spiritual. He speaks of guiding oracles, those inner lights of wisdom and conscience that humanity discovers through experience and reflection. They are not voices from gods, but from within the human soul itself — the accumulated truths that teach us what it means to exist with purpose. To “learn how to be” is to understand one’s place in the vast order of life, to live with awareness rather than ignorance. To “learn how to do” is to act with integrity and courage. To “learn how to do without” is to embrace discipline, humility, and acceptance. And to “learn how to depart” is to face mortality with grace, to surrender without fear.

The origin of this thought arises from Morley’s deep moral philosophy — a reflection of an age when men sought to unite knowledge with virtue. In a time of rapid scientific and social change, he reminded his readers that progress is hollow without wisdom. His “guiding oracles” were the timeless principles found in philosophy, art, and the moral teachings of humankind — the distilled insights of generations who struggled to understand life’s meaning. Like the ancient sages of Greece or the prophets of the East, Morley believed that the true education of man lies not in knowing much, but in knowing how to live well.

To learn how to be is the first task, and perhaps the hardest. It requires self-knowledge — the courage to look inward and confront one’s nature. The young soul seeks identity in comparison, in approval, in fleeting pleasure. But as the ancients taught, the one who learns to “be” without dependence on others’ praise has begun to taste freedom. Socrates, when condemned to die, said that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” He had learned how to be — to stand in truth even against the world, because he understood who he was and what he served. Thus, the first oracle whispers: Know thyself, and live with purpose.

To learn how to do is to transform thought into deed. Action is the measure of character. The world has known many who dreamed greatly but acted little. Yet the wise know that knowledge without courage is barren. Florence Nightingale, tending to the dying soldiers of the Crimean War, did not simply think compassion; she did compassion. She turned mercy into movement. To act rightly is to align one’s will with one’s values — to make goodness real. The second oracle commands: Do not only believe in the good; become its instrument.

Then comes the harder lesson — to learn how to do without. This is the crucible of maturity, where the soul learns detachment. Life, in its merciless honesty, takes back what it once gave: health, fortune, love, and even dreams. Many rebel against this truth and grow bitter. But the wise accept it with serenity, for they know that what we lose outwardly, we gain inwardly. Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor, lost children, friends, and years of peace, yet he wrote, “If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it.” To “do without” is to master oneself, to find strength not in possessions, but in spirit. The third oracle whispers: Endure, and let go with grace.

Finally, the last and most sacred art — to learn how to depart. This is the wisdom of mortality, the calm understanding that all beginnings must meet their end. To depart is not to vanish, but to complete one’s journey well. When Nelson Mandela left this world, he had already departed in spirit long before — leaving behind hatred, pride, and fear, and carrying only love and forgiveness. To learn to depart is to die not with dread, but with gratitude. The final oracle speaks: Leave the world better than you found it, and carry peace into the unknown.

Thus, in the words of John Morley, we are reminded that life is not a single lesson, but four — being, doing, enduring, and departing. To live these in harmony is the work of a lifetime. Seek not only success, but understanding; not only possession, but detachment; not only survival, but meaning. For these are the true oracles of the soul — the silent teachers that guide us through every trial. Learn them well, and you will have learned the greatest art of all: how to live — and how, when the time comes, to go — with wisdom and peace.