It may now be as well to glance at the modes of living of a few of the
patriarchal folks. Cornaro, who is one of the _penates_ of healthful
longevity, was born at Venice in 1464, of a noble family. In early life
he injured his health by intemperance, and by indulging his propensity
to anger; but he succeeded in acquiring such a command over himself, and
in adopting such a system of temperance, as to recover his health and
vigour, and to enjoy life to an extreme old age. At 83 he wrote a comedy
“abounding with innocent mirth and pleasant jests.” At 86 he wrote: “I
contrive to spend every hour with the greatest delight and pleasure.” He
was fond of literature and the conversation of men of sense and good
manners, and his principal delight was to be of service to others. Every
year he travelled, visited architects, painters, sculptors, musicians,
and husbandmen; and he was especially fond of natural scenery. “Being
freed, by God’s grace, from the perturbations of the mind and the
infirmities of the body,” he no longer experienced any of those contrary
emotions which torment a number of young men, and many old ones
destitute of strength and health, and every other blessing. His diet
consisted of bread, meat, eggs, and soup, not exceeding in the day
three-quarters of a pound of food, and a pint of new wine. He passed
with health and comfort beyond his hundredth year; and at Padua, in
1566, sitting in his arm-chair, he died, as he had lived for his last
threescore years, exempt from pain and suffering.
Thomas Parr[50] was an early riser. Taylor, the Water-poet, quaintly
sings of his mode of living:
Good wholesome labour was his exercise,
Down with the lamb, and with the lark would rise;
In wise and toiling sweat he spent the day,
And to his team he whistled time away;
The cock his night-clock, and till day was done,
His watch and chief sun-dial was the sun.
He was of old Pythagoras’ opinion,
That new cheese was most wholesome with an onion;
Coarse meslin bread; and for his daily swig,
Milk, butter-milk, and water, whey and whig;
Sometimes metheglin, and, by fortune happy,
He sometimes sipped a cup of ale most nappy,
Cider or perry, when he did repair
To a Whitson ale, wake, wedding, or a fair,
Or when in Christmas-time he was a guest,
At his good landlord’s house among the rest;
Else he had little leisure-time to waste,
Or at the alehouse buff-cup ale to taste;
His physic was good butter, which the soil
Of Salop yields, more sweet than Candy-oil;
And garlic he esteemed above the rate
Of Venice treacle, or best mithridate;
He entertained no gout, no ache he felt,
The air was good and temperate where he dwelt;
Thus living within bounds of Nature’s laws,
Of his long-lasting life may be some cause.
Taylor thus describes the person of Parr:
From head to heel, his body had all over
A quick-set, thick-set, natural hairy cover.
The Vegetarians maintain that their system of living conduces highly to
longevity. We find in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1774, this recorded
instance: “At Brussels, Elizabeth de Val, aged 103, who was remarkable
for never having eaten a bit of meat in her life.”
An advocate of vegetable diet adduces the Norwegian and Russian
peasantry as the most remarkable instances of extreme longevity: “The
last returns of the Greek Church population of the Russian empire give
(in the table of the deaths of the male sex) more than one thousand
above 100 years of age, many between 140 and 150.... Slaves in the West
Indies are recorded from 130 to 150 years of age.” Widow Rogers, of
Penzance, Cornwall, who died 1779, aged 118, for the last sixty years
lived entirely on vegetable diet.
Among the Pythagoreans of our time should be mentioned Sir Richard
Phillips, who from his twelfth year conceived an abhorrence of the
slaughter of animals for food; and from that period to his death, at the
age of 72, he lived entirely on vegetable products, enjoying such robust
health that no stranger could have suspected his studious and sedentary
habits.[51] Sometimes this Pythagorean principle was strongly
enunciated; as, when about to take his seat at a supper-party,
perceiving a lobster on the table, he loudly denounced the cruelty of
his friends’ sitting down to eat a creature which had been boiled alive!
and the offensive dish had to be removed. Sir Richard often published
his Reasons for not eating Animal Food; his abstinence drew upon him the
harmless ridicule of a writer in the _Quarterly Review_, observing that,
although he would not eat meat, he was addicted to gravy over his
potatoes.
One Wilson, of Worlingworth, Suffolk, who died 1782, aged 116, for the
last forty years of his life supped off roasted turnips, to which he
ascribed his long life.
The Hon. Mrs. Watkins, of Glamorganshire, who died 1790, aged 110, for
her last thirty years lived principally on potatoes. The year before her
death she came from Glamorgan to London to see Mrs. Siddons play, and
attended the theatre nine nights; and one morning she mounted to the
Whispering-gallery of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
It is rarely that table-wits attain such longevity as did Captain
Morris, the Anacreon of the Beef-steak Club, who wrote lyrics at the age
of 90. He died three years afterwards. He was of short stature, and
usually wore a buff waistcoat, such as he apostrophised in one of his
latest lyrics, “The old Whig Poet to his old Buff Waistcoat.” He lies in
the churchyard of Betchworth, Surrey,—his grave simply marked by a head
and foot stone, 1838.
Civic annals present few such instances of long life as that of Richard
Clark, Chamberlain of London, who died 1831, in his 92d year. He was one
of the latest of the contemporaries of Dr. Johnson, whom he had known
from his 15th year: when sheriff, he took the Doctor to a “Judges’
Dinner” at the Old Bailey, the judges being Blackstone and Eyre.
In the autumn of 1831 died the Rev. Dr. Shaw, aged 83, of Chesley,
Somerset, said to have been the last surviving friend of Dr. Johnson.
Few persons addicted to riotous living attain great ages. A remarkable
exception is recorded of George Kirton, Esq., of Oxcrop Hall, Yorkshire,
who died in 1762, aged 125. He was a stanch foxhunter, and hunted till
after he was 80; thenceforth, till his hundredth year, he attended the
“breaking cover” in his single chair. He was a heavy drinker till within
a few years of his death.
Thomas Whittington, who died at Hillingdon, Middlesex, in 1804, aged
104, retained his faculties to the last, and could walk two or three
miles; yet he was a great drinker, gin being the only fluid he took into
his stomach, and of this a pint and a half daily, until a fortnight of
his death. He remembered William III. and Queen Anne; and in 1745 he
conveyed troops and baggage from Uxbridge to London. His father died at
exactly the same age (104) as the son, and both lie in Hillingdon
churchyard.
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Footnote 50:
In the Ashmolean Collection at Oxford is a portrait of Old Parr,
presumed to have been painted from the life, and, we believe, not
engraved. The portrait by Rubens is well known.
Footnote 51:
The portrait of Sir Richard Phillips as Sheriff, painted by Saxon,
shows him as above described. The picture is of gallery size, and in
the possession of his grandson and representative, Mr. Bacon Phillips,
M.R.C.S., of Brighton. The bust of Sir Richard, by Turnerelli, conveys
a similar _personnel_.
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