CONCERNING OLD AGE. I IT BY C. T. CAMPBELL, M. D. T has never yet been satisfactorily decided whether "length of days" is a thing to be desired or not. If "the first commandment with blessing" would seem to indicate an affirmative answer to the question, the inconveniences and discomforts so often attendant on old age would as clearly point to a negative. Differences of opinion, however, will depend on the varying circumstances and conditions of the individual. In times of mental depression, bodily illness, or personal poverty, desire may fail and life become a burden. But with favourable surroundings few people will discuss, even theoretically, the advisability of praying for shortness of life. Not many are like the quaint old physician, Sir Thomas Browne, who seemed scarcely to approve of any one who should desire "to surpass the days of our Saviour, or wish to outlive that age wherein He thought fittest to die ;" and for this reason, among others, that "if (as divinity affirms) there shall be no grey hairs in heaven, but all shall rise in the perfect state of men, we do but outlive these perfections in this world to be recalled to them by a greater miracle in the next, and run on here but to retrograde hereafter." Yet we never heard that Sir Thomas lamented greatly the prolongation of his own life to the age of seventy-seven. Despite any theorising, life certainly seems to the general mind something worthy to be clung to with a most tenacious grasp. He was no unwise observer of men and things who gave it as his opinion that though in philosophic moments Hamlet might gravely soliloquize "To be or not to be!" yet should some one suddenly point a pistol at his head he would shout "be !" without a moment's hesitation. Even the strongest religious faith, though it may have a confident assurance of a happier home "over the river," will often hesitate on the bank, loath to say farewell to life. The evidence of things not seen may be strong, but it cannot altogether destroy the influence of the things that are seen. Just how long a man might live or ought to live is another of the disputed questions involved in the consideration of old age. Moses (was it not he?) set down the limit at three score and ten; yet he himself, regardless of consistency, lived out full six score, and even then "his eye was not dim, nor his natural strength abated." Hufeland, who wrote pleasantly on "The Art of Prolonging Life," thought people might reach 200 years, if they only took care of themselves. But he died at 74; presumably, he did not take care of himself. Buffon, calculating from the ratio which the life of an animal bears to the years of its growth, held "that the man who did not die of accidental causes, reached everywhere the age of ninety or one hundred." Others who have written and talked on this subject adopt various opinions as to the duration of life. Individually, they have generally tried to live as long as possible. That people do at times reach an age far beyond the ordinary limit is evidenced by the records of history. It is often difficult, though, to decide how far romance enters into the composition of some of the marvellous stories of longevity we hear. In the case of a sheik of Smyrna still living at the advanced age of 600, or in that of one Astephius, who claimed for himself not less. than 1,025 years, there need be no question. chemical experiments, rejuvenated her But in the multitude of cases credited with father-in-law, Æson, and, we presume, provarying ages from 100 to 200, there is more longed his life by a very free venesection, room for doubt. Yet the evidence is some- followed by the injection of certain vegetimes very clear. Take the Countess of table juices into his veins. Very probably Desmond for an example, among those this was the origin of the regimen favoured generally accepted as true. Born in 1465 by some medical men-not yet dead-who she is said to have danced with Richard the used to recommend a bleeding every spring, Third while yet Duke of Gloucester, and to followed by a course of bitters to purify the have outlived all the English sovereigns of system. the Houses of York and Tudor, dying during the reign of James I., at the age of 140. A lively old lady she must have been, if the tradition be true, which attributes her death to a fall from a cherry tree! Then there is Henry Jenkins, of whom it was said, that in his youth he was present at the battle of Flodden. He died in 1670, and could not, therefore, have been less than 170. But the evidence is not so satisfactory in his case as in that of Thomas Parr, who was born in 1483. We are told that he married his first wife at the age of 80, and his second at 120. Gay young bridegroom! worse than the perhaps mythical John Weeks who married his tenth wife when he was 106, she being then only "sweet sixteen." Parr survived his second and last matrimonial effort 32 years, dying at the age of 152. There are several other cases on record of whose truthfulness we can have little doubt, where persons have passed the century mile-post of life's journey, and got some distance beyond; but we shall not occupy space with their names. The best evidence that people think it desirable to live long, is to be found in the exertions that have been made in all ages to accomplish this end. The Egyptians supposed life could be lengthened by the free use of sudorifics and emetics. They tried to "keep the pores open," as the old women-professional and non-professional -say. Two emetics per month were considered the proper thing in Egypt. If classic poets are to be credited, Medea, a philosophic young lady, much given to The alchemists were all earnest seekers after some elixir vita-some magic potion which should preserve youth and vigour for ever. None succeeded, judging from the fact that they all died themselves; but some of them imagined they had discovered what would prolong if not perpetuate life. Friar Bacon compounded a nostrum of gold, coral, vipers, rosemary, aloes, the bone of a stag's heart, and certain other mysterious ingredients. Arnoldus de Villâ, a French physician, proposed to feed the seeker after long life on pullets fattened on vipers, which, after being whipped to death, were to have their heads and tails cut off, and be stewed in a mixture of rosemary and fennel. This formed the pièce de resistance of the feast; the entremets, were composed of emeralds, rubies and other precious stones dissolved. There would not be much objection to the latter articles; but most people would prefer them raw rather than cooked. Commend us, however, to the prescription of Claudius Hermippus, who taught a school of girls in Rome, and died at the age of 115, having thus prolonged his life, in his own opinion, by "exposing himself, daily, to the breath of innocent young maids.” The remedy might not be unpleasant, even if it should not succeed as well in this nineteenth century as in the days of the Roman dominie. If, however, a deeper meaning is to be placed upon it than appears on the surface, it will not be so ridiculous as it looks. Read the prescription in the words of old Marshal de Schomberg, who was killed at the Battle of the Boyne, hale and vigorous, though 83, who used to say that "when he was young he conversed with old men to gain experience, and when old delighted in the company of the young to keep up his spirits." Hippocrates, the leading physician of his day, long ago-died at 109, tradition says -advised pure air, cleanliness, moderation in all things, exercise, and a daily friction of the clay. It does not appear that modern doctors are able to improve on his prescription, and they generally content themselves with following the divine old man of Cos. Cases are found, however, which show long life to be quite compatible with the absence of these conditions. There was the Rev. W. Davis, an English clergyman, who lived to the age of 105; for the last 35 years of his life he took no out-door exercise; daily had his hot buttered rolls for breakfast, and roast beef for supper, with abundance of wine to wash it down. In the year 1806, there died in London a noted character of her day, Mrs. Lewson, aged 106; she never washed herself, very seldom as much as swept her rooms; her labours at the toilet were confined to smearing her face and neck with hog's lard, with an occasional touch of rouge. We can quite believe the report that her chief companions were cats and dogs. While these cases and many others show that old age is possible in defiance of all commonly-received rules of hygiene, so also the evidences are clear that neither climate, occupation nor condition of life can be specially depended upon; more particularly in regard to extreme longevity. According to Finlaison's Tables, "Rural districts have the advantage of about one in two hundred deaths above city districts, and one in five hundred above the town districts." Country, therefore, is not so much better than city; and hot climates differ but little from cold. The female sex seems to have somewhat the advantage of the male in the He average duration of life; though there are more instances of extreme longevity among the latter than the former. It is said, but we really are not sure about it, that matrimony is conducive to long life. Hufeland gives a solemn warning to bachelors. says: "There is not one instance of a bachelor having attained a great age." Now, while it may be that, by a wise dispensation of Providence, these comparatively useless members of the social world die off sooner than their brethren who have conjugated, yet the assertion of the Prussian authority is altogether too sweeping. Kant lived to 80, Swedenborg to 84, Alexander von Humboldt to 90, Hobbes to 91; besides many other single gentlemen who reached a most venerable age. But Hufeland was evidently prejudiced in favour of matrimony; for he says further: "All people who have been very old were married more than once;" and he instances the case of one De Longueville, who attained the age of 110, and had ten wives, the last in his 99th year! Poor man! to be thus untimely cut off in the midst of a career of usefulness! But perhaps if he had not been so matrimonially inclined he might have lived much longer. Even though we take into consideration the occupation and surrounding circumstances of the individual, we do not arrive at any satisfactory conclusion as to what is most conducive to longevity. Among clergymen, we find cases like those of Cardinal de Solis, who live to be 110; Dr. Totty, an English rector, of Hastings, 101; Bishop Morton of Litchfield, 95. Lawyers have generally been long-lived, as witness Lords Lyndhurst, Brougham, Mansfield, Stowell and Eldon, all of whom died in the neighbourhood of 90. Physicians shew few examples of longevity; more are to be found among literary men, like Samuel Rogers, living to 93, and Fontenelle who completed his century. In the arts, we read of Michael Angelo, who wore the four crowns of archi tecture, sculpture, painting and poetry to the age of 90; Sir Christopher Wren finding rest after a life of 91 years; Titian dying of the plague at 99. Kings and princes who have lived active lives, provide us with few cases of extreme age. So, too, with soldiers, though one case comes up before us-one who was both soldier and king-blind old Dandolo, chosen Doge of Venice at 84, storming Constantinople at the head of his troops when 94, refusing to accept the offered throne of the Eastern Empire, to which he was elected, at 96, and dying Doge at 97. If, then, extreme old age be possible under so many and so varying conditions, we may well ask the question, upon what does longevity depend? "Chiefly," replies Sir John Sinclair (Code of Health and Longevity), "upon a certain bodily and mental predisposition to longevity." An indefinite answer, amounting in effect to little more than this, that certain people live long because they do not die sooner. And yet it may be as good as we can give. For as some people are born with a predisposition to grow tall, while others for no better reason remain short, so this unexplainable "predisposition" may increase or diminish by many years the length of a man's life. Another element of longevity is also to a great extent beyond the control of the individual; and that is a complacent, self-satisfied disposition, an even temper, not easily ruffled by the excitement of life, a calm indifference to adverse circumstances; in other words, that peculiar temperament possessed by some people which leads them to "take things easy." A marked example of this is found in the history of Lodowick Cornaro, a Venetian gentleman, whose "Treatise on Temperance" was translated into English as far back as 1678. Signor Cornaro had no public cares, for his family had a taint of treason which shut them out from public life; he had no domestic cares ; he possessed an ample competence which preserved him from all personal cares; he had an abundant supply of self-conceit, which his friends doubtless pampered till he began to look on himself as "monarch of all he surveyed," he had nothing to do, and he did nothing, except to exercise on himself his favourite hygienic hobby-the only marked feature of his life. From the age of thirty-six till his death, at over one hundred, he kept steadily to a diet of twelve ounces of solid food and fourteen of liquid daily. But what had more effect in prolonging his life than his regular diet was the complete control under which he had brought his emotions, so that, to use his own confession, "the death of relatives and friends could make no impression on him but for a moment or two, and then it was over." Judging from Cornaro's case, as well as from others, we may safely conclude that while temperate and regular habits are conducive to long life, the most important elements of all are easy circumstances, a philosophic self-complacency, and that very moderate exercise of bodily and mental powers which is oftener found connected with mediocrity than with genius of a higher order. All experience teaches that there is a close relationship between the intensity and extensity of life. By intensity we mean the rate of living; by extensity, its duration. The faster we live the sooner we die. All over-work, whether mental or physical, whether valuable labour or reckless dissipation, is a draft on the future; and the draft will have to be paid with heavy interest. In this very rapid age the mass of mankind is over-worked, rather than under-worked. And instead of trying to ease the strain on the the machinery, most of us are doing our utmost to crowd on more steam. Theoretically we may acknowledge the risk we run but it makes little difference in our practices. Life is short, we say, let us work while we can. And, after all the grave lectures of health reformers, there is some sense in this idea. In itself old age is not a desirable thing. There are accessory circumstances which may render it enviable; but these do not always exist. The tendency is to esteem and honour those over whose heads many years have passed, because we suppose that with the passing of years wisdom has come. "Intellect is the essence of age," says Emerson. The superficial observer sees the snowy locks and wrinkled brow, and takes these as the evidences of that ripened intellect which he is prepared to venerate. But the age of the wise man is to be computed from his studies, not from his wrinkles. The intensity of a life of two-score years may have had richer results than the even tenor of four-score. This is the idea of the old Veda: "He that can discriminate is the father of his father." And is not the man who has worked with every nerve and muscle till fifty, of as much value to society as he who has dawdled out a century? Has he not done more? Does he not know more? And can he not then step aside from a busy life to a deserved rest, leaving his memory enshrined in the affection and esteem of the circle where he moved-leaving a name more honourable far than he whose chief notoriety is from his many years—years which we begin to count, as some one has said, when there is nothing else to count? The legend of Tithonus does not exaggerate the evils of a physical immortality; and when statistics assure us positively that more than half the people over eighty years are totally infirm in mind and body, we scarcely feel tempted to desire a longevity that shall take us into the regions of disability. When the prophets of hygiene point us to our blunders, and lay down rules for our guidance like those of Cornaro, or per haps more cast-iron still, we are apt to say with the old satirist, "Longa dies igitur quid contulit?" What pleasure even in anticipating a comparatively vigorous senility, if we outlive our generation and outlive our usefulness? The grand-children become the men and women who govern the world; and they seldom work harmoniously with the grand-fathers. "Old age for counsel!" But the busy workers have little time to consult old age, and little inclination to follow its advice when adverse. Will the mere fact of having lived many years console Old Age for his physical inconveniences, for his failing powers, for the neglect of his juniors, for the loss of all his friends and companions? Where will the happiness be for the lonely centenarian— "When the mossy marbles rest In their bloom; Have been carved for many a year As he looks on life's busy whirl, so change- Release me, and restore me to the ground." Better far to work while there is strength to work and when strength fails to cease from labour, and enter into rest there, "Where beyond these voices there is peace." |