Is there not an Eastern apologue which tells how the Angel of
Pestilence was questioned as to the ten thousand victims he had
slain? And did he not answer, “Nay, Lord, I took but a thousand;
the rest were slain by my friend Panic.” How many, too, have
sunk into the deep waters of the black river and been floated
on to the ocean of eternity, for very paralysis of hope when
the evil hour was upon them and they had just wetted their feet
on the brink! They could, and they would have stept back to the
solid shore; but they had no courage for the attempt, no energy
to strike out to the land. The waters closed over their bowed
head, and they sobbed away their breath in the very supineness
of terror, the very lethargy of hopeless fear. Death is like
everything else--a foe to be fought, a wild beast to be kept at
bay. They who contend with most spirit live the greater number
of days. The will to live and the determination not to die make
the most efficacious antidote against the poison of the “lethal
dart.” The hopelessness of fear is that poison itself.--E.
LYNN LINTON--_The Forum_.
(1444)
=Horizons, Short=--See AVERAGE LIFE.
=Horoscopy=--See BIRTH CEREMONIES.