Thus the sum of things is ever being reviewed, and mortals

Lucretius, the Roman poet-philosopher who sought to unveil the secret workings of the cosmos, declared: “Thus the sum of things is ever being reviewed, and mortals dependent one upon another. Some nations increase, others diminish, and in a short space the generations of living creatures are changed and like runners pass on the torch of life.” These words resound with both grandeur and sorrow, for they remind us that all creation is in flux, and that we, fragile children of time, are bound in an eternal relay, carrying the flame of existence from one hand to another.

The sum of things—that is, the great totality of being—is never fixed. Mountains rise and fall, rivers shift their course, empires flourish and then crumble into dust. Nothing stands forever as it was. Lucretius, disciple of Epicurus, sought to show that the universe is a vast dance of atoms, endlessly rearranging, endlessly remaking. Thus he speaks: everything is ever being “reviewed,” ever changing its form, while the whole remains eternal. It is not chaos, but a cosmic order of transformation, where permanence lies not in individuals but in the everlasting flow.

In this current, mortals are dependent one upon another. None stands alone, for all are woven into a single fabric of life. A father hands down to his son the knowledge of the field, the craft of his trade, the strength of his lineage. A teacher sows wisdom into the soil of young minds. A warrior defends his people, then falls, leaving others to carry the shield. Humanity itself exists only because one generation tends the next, even as the old decline and the young rise. The torch of existence is never held by one forever; it must be passed, or the flame will go out.

History bears witness to this truth. Consider the fall of Rome itself, that mighty nation whose banners once stretched across continents. For centuries it grew, strong in arms, in laws, in culture. Yet as the centuries turned, decadence weakened it, invasions pressed against its borders, and its dominion diminished. But from its ashes new kingdoms rose, bearing fragments of its language, its architecture, its laws. Rome’s torch did not vanish; it was handed, though unwillingly, to the nations that followed. This is the story of all peoples: one ascends, another declines, yet the torch of life is never extinguished, only transferred.

Lucretius likens this to runners in a race. The metaphor is beautiful and grave. Each runner strains with all his strength, but none runs the course forever. His task is not to claim eternal victory, but to run his stretch with honor and to hand the flame unquenched to the next. So it is with all living beings: plants seed the earth before they wither, beasts breed before they perish, men teach, build, and labor before they fall into silence. Each life is a link in a chain without end, a runner in a race whose prize is not possession but continuity.

O children of tomorrow, take heed of this teaching. Do not cling as though your station were eternal; know that your strength, your time, your very breath are gifts to be spent in your stretch of the race. Do not despair when change comes, for it has ever been so. Instead, ask: what flame shall I hand forward? Will it be wisdom, kindness, justice, courage? Or will it be bitterness and emptiness? The torch you bear is not only your life but the life of those who come after.

Therefore, live not in vanity, but in responsibility. Build for the next generation, not only for yourself. Teach, guide, plant, protect, create—so that when your race is done, the flame burns brighter in the hands of those who follow. Know that your task is not to halt the great change, for that is beyond mortal power, but to shape your part in it nobly. For though nations rise and fall, though the sum of things is ever reviewed, the torch endures, carried by an unbroken line of runners through the vastness of time.

And thus the wisdom of Lucretius is clear: embrace change, cherish your place in the relay, and bear the torch of life with honor, that its fire may never fail. For though mortals perish, the flame goes on, and in its light, the race of mankind continues unceasing, ever onward, ever renewed.