Best Time to Die

Evening Star, Issue 20058, 26 December 1928, Page 8

Best Time to Die

WHEN THE THRILL OF LIFE IS FADING Supposing one might choose, is it better to die in youth, retaining one’s illusions; in one’s prime, lull ol promise i in middle age, while there is still hope of achieving what we intended to do; or in old age. when we have realised the futility ol everything? ■ If we seeh the opinion ol poets the answer seems to be; 11 Do not put oil dentil too long or you may live to regret it.” King David observed Chat the days of a man’s life are three-score years and ton, and supposing ho exceeds this measure the feat is not a matter for unalloyed satisfaction. A. E. Hoiisman is even more emphatic, lie says quite frankly;— They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man, The lads that will die in their glory and never be old. WHOM THE GODS LOVE. Even if some contend that A. E. Housmun takes a gloomy view of life, being a man whose heroes are mostly hanged in Shrewsbury Gaol, no one would accuse Rudyard Kipling of undue pessimism, Yet what docs he sing on the subject of old age? The Lain]) of our Youth will he utterly out, but we shall subsist on the smell of it; And whatever we do, wo shall fold our hands and suck our gums and think well of it. Yes. we shall be perfectly pleased with our work, and that is the I’erfcetest Hell of it! Finally' some sage of antiquity whose name escapes me has laid down for all etornitv; l< Whom the gods love die young.” Personally I suggest with great respect that the best time to die is just helore the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say: “i have no pleasure therein.” To wait until there is no more thrill in the coming of spring, no more joy in getting up and tackling (lie day’s wqrk. no sense ol adventure left, and no desire for achievement is to linger too long. DEAD. BUT NUT BUUIED. A man in that condition recalls an epigram made by a Iriend of mine concerning the members ol a certain (inn, all ol the same iamily, whom we will disguise under the name of X. Is not Mr George X dcadP” inquired someone of my friend. 4 All the Messrs X are dead,” mv friend replied, ‘‘only Mr George happens to be buried and the ' others aren’t ” There remain far too many people in the world who, to all intents and purposes, arc dead, but remain unhurie,-*. it cannot be denied that death in youth is a thing ol splendour, a going out with name and lame untarnished, lull of promise mifullillcd, the body untouched by time or suffering. ‘Who f *on 1(1 wish Hint Keats, lor instance (not that ho was untouched by suffering) had lived as long as Swinburne and written as much. NOTHING TO LIVE FOR, What more eloquent and just death could there have been than Gustav Hamel's, the young pioneer airman, who took off from the coast of Era nee in June, 191-1, and was never seen again ? I cannot help feeling that to live into gre-t old age may bo very terrible. '1 .'.ere is nothing left to do, nnthing to wait lor, and the knowledge of being dependent on younger people for the mere eomiuonplaces'of existence persists. Whenever I see a very old man being pulled along in a hath chair, with a young nurse in attendance, I shudder and think: "There but for the grace of God go I.” On the other hand, no one could (ear or wish to avoid an old ago conipnrali to that of the late Goncnil 1 Sir George Migginson. the " Father of the Brigade of Guards,” who died not lung ago at the age of 100. YOUNG AT 70. OLD AT Sir George, who was a Grenadier, remained active and in full possession of his faculties to the end. In. 1 believe, his ninety-ninth year.' he was present at a gathering ol the Grenadier Guards, and made a perfect speech, standing while he made it. lip was able to attend church regularly almost up to his death, and took a deep interest in the affairs of the neighbourhood in which lie lived. If the old age of everyone were like Hint everyone would wish to live as long ns possible. Inevitably we return to the fact that the record of the calendar has little to do with age. Some are eternally youthful, and sumo are old from the cradle onwards. Age, indeed, is more a matter of health than years. A man it a* old as his heart, and people with digestions like the ostrich's can defy tithe. One person may die in his youth at seventy, nod another in his old ago at thirty-three. DILEMMA AT FIFTY, A woman said to me not very long ago: “The tragedy of life is that, nlthnngh I'm fifty, I do feel so dreadfully yonrm and T find it so difficult to hehrM'G as I ought to do at my time of life. Often and often I’d love to go not into the fields and skip inst as I did when T was in my ’teens.” Reallv she meant that the age of the spirit is all that matters. A.s long ns the impulse endures to stretch out both hand* towards Life in the sure and certain hope that they will he filed, a man or woman is never old. To step aside from life’s .sunshine into tlie shadow and snv: “ Now 1 will rest awhile ” mark's the onset of old age. Therefore, it seem? to me that the best time <o die is when there still remains a little to strive for, a little to long for. a few unrealised ambitions, an nnexnlnved horizon beyond one last range of hills we shall never scale. UNEXPLORED HORIZON, Just as doctors instruct us to rise from the table not quite satisfied, 'o wo should do well to leave life while we are still sorry to go. T cannot think that Moses on Mount Fiscal) viewing the Promised Land he might never enter was a pathetic figure. After what we miss Indying a year too soon is_ no more and no less than what we missel hv twins hen a year too late. Only n fool or a bore outs' 1 avs Id? welcome and lingers on and on in the doorway saying farewed ever a"d oye>- a"a in. ! hone T shall die young enoimdi. sniritnnlly. at anv rate, to have a last, amusing conversation with someone or ether sufficiently interested in me fo he sorry R is the last, to drink a hast. |mlf-hn+t!e ef ehanmneme. slunke a last einarettp. glance at the latest, edition of (bp. ; n-ipcr. and go out with a faint thrill nf anticipation into the greatest | adventure of all.