_The disease of Old-age._
Old-age _itself is a disease_, as the poet has properly expressed
it[73]. Wherefore as I have frequently read with pleasure, the very
elegant description of it, given by Solomon the wisest of kings; I
think it will not be foreign to my design, to attempt an explanation
and illustration thereof. For it contains some things not easy to be
understood, because the eloquent preacher thought proper to express
all the circumstances allegorically. But first I will lay the
discourse itself before my readers, which runs thus.
[73] _Terent. Phorm. Act. iv. Scen. i. v. 9._
"Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, before the evil times
come, and the years draw nigh, in which, thou shalt say, I find no
pleasure: before the sun, and the light, and the moon, and the stars
be darkened, and the clouds return after rain; when the keepers of the
house shall tremble, and the soldiers shall give way, and the
diminished grinders shall cease; and those that look out thro' holes
shall be darkened; and the doors shall be shut outwardly, with a low
sound of the mill, and they shall rise up at the voice of the bird;
and all the daughters of music shall be of no avail; also when they
shall be afraid of high places, and stumblings in the way; and the
almond tree shall flower, and the _Cicadæ_ shall come together; and
the appetite shall be lost, man departing to his eternal habitation,
and the mourners going about in the street: before the silver chain
be broken asunder, and the golden ewer be dashed in pieces; and the
pitcher be broken at the fountain head; and the chariot be dashed in
pieces at the pit; and the dust return to the earth, such as it had
been; and the Spirit return to God, who gave it[74]."
[74] _Ecclesiastes, Chap. xii. Verse 1-7. translated from
Castalio's latin version._
The recital of evils (and infirmities) begins from the aberrations of
the mind. _The sun_, says Solomon, _and the light, and the moon, and
the stars are darkened_. Perceptions of the mind are less lively in
old men; the ideas and images of things are confounded, and the memory
decays: whence the intellectual faculties must necessarily lose their
strength or power by degrees. Wisdom and understanding are frequently
called _light_ in the sacred scriptures;[75] and privation of reason,
_darkness_ and blindness.[76] Cicero likewise says very justly, that
_reason is as it were, the light and splendor of life_.[77] Hence God
is stiled the _father of lights_.[78] Thus the virtues of the mind
decaying, may be compared to the luminaries of the world overcast. I
am conscious that this exposition is contrary to that of a number of
learned interpreters, who take this _obscuration of the lights_ in the
genuine sense of the words, and think that the failing of the sight is
here to be understood. But I am surprized, how they happened not to
take notice, that every thing in this discourse, even to the most
minute circumstances, is expressed in words bearing a figurative
sense. For whereas, in describing the infirmities of Old-age, the
injuries of the operations of the mind, as the most grievous of all,
were not to be pretermitted; so these could not be more clearly
expressed, than by the obscuration of the coelestial luminous bodies,
which rule our orb, and cause the vicissitudes of times and seasons.
Moreover it is particularly to be observed here, that the author
mentions the defects of sight lower down, and most certainly he would
have avoided repeating the same thing.
[75] _Job, Chap. xviii. Verse 5, 6, 7._
[76] _Matthew, Chap. vi. Verse 23. John, Ep. i. Chap. ii.
Verse 11._
[77] _Academ. iv. 8._
[78] _James, Epist. Chap. i. Verse 17._
But he goes on, and adds, what well agrees with the foregoing
explanation. _The clouds return after rain._ That is, cares and
troubles crowd on each other, and daily oppress aged folks. As in
moist climates, and those liable to storms, even when the clouds seem
to be exhausted, others soon follow, and the rains become almost
perpetual. And these inconveniencies are felt the more sensibly, in
proportion to the debilitation of the powers of the mind, whereby they
are rendered less able now, than formerly, either to bear, or get the
better of their oppressions.
But from the mind our royal author now passes to the body. _The
keepers of the house_, says he, _shall tremble, and the soldiers shall
give way, and the diminished grinders shall cease_. The limbs, and
firmest parts of the body, are damaged by age: the hands and knees
grow weak, thro' the relaxation of the nerves. Hence those are
rendered incapable of defending us against injuries, and of performing
innumerable other good offices, for which they were originally
intended; and these becoming unequal to the weight they were wont to
sustain, lose their active suppleness, and fail in bending. Likewise
the double teeth or grinders, either drop out, or rot away; so as now
to be too few remaining to comminute solid food. In the translation of
the Hebrew word, which I have here rendered by _double teeth_ or
_grinders_, I followed Arias Montanus, who, in my opinion, has
translated it right. For it is in this passage used by the author in
the plural number; who afterwards employs it in the singular, but in a
quite different sense, when he treats of the sense of tasting; as I
shall shew anon, when I come to that passage. For, that Solomon's
intention in this place was, to describe those defects of the senses,
which generally steal on old-age, I have not the least doubt.
Wherefore now proceeding to them, he begins by the _sight_. _Those_,
says he, _that look thro' holes shall be darkened_. By which words it
is manifest, that he points out the failing of the eyes, which most
people, far advanced in years, feel by sad experience.
Next follows the _taste_, which he thus describes: _The doors shall be
shut outwardly, with a low sound of the mill_. As old people, thro'
diminution of appetite, open their mouths seldomer than formerly; so
for want of teeth to comminute their food, they do it with less noise.
Now this last inconvenience seems to be meant and expressed very
elegantly by the words _a low sound of the mill_: for by the word
_mill_, which in the Hebrew is used in the singular number, the
grinding of the food may very well be meant; and this grinding, as it
is not done by the assistance of the teeth, which they have lost, but
by that of the gums, is performed with less noise.
Sleep is the sweet soother of our labours, and the restorer of our
exhausted strength. But the loss of appetite, and disgust to our food,
generally robs us of this comfort. Hence subjoining this evil of
old-age to the foregoing, he says: _he shall rise up at the voice of
the bird_; that is, the old man is awaked at the cock's first crowing.
Wherefore his sleep is short and interrupted, tho' his weakness would
require longer rest.
But he returns to the senses, among which he gives the third place to
_hearing_; for receiving the benefits of which the Creator gave us the
use of ears. Now this is frequently diminished, and sometimes entirely
taken away in old-age; which the royal author seems to indicate in
the following words: _The daughters of music shall be of no avail_.
For thus he thought proper to express the ears, to which at this time
of life, not only the pleasure of harmonious sounds is sought in vain;
but, what is much more disagreeable, the words in conversation are not
easily understood: whereby the enjoyment, and one of the greatest
conveniencies of life, are gradually lost. Hence in the jewish
history, Barzillai, at eighty years of age, complains that he could no
longer _hear the voice of the singing men and singing women_.[79]
[79] _Samuel, (al. Kings) ii. Chap. xix. Verse 35._
These defects of the organs of hearing, are immediately followed by
those of the sense of feeling. Now _the touch_, as Cicero says, _is
uniformly spread over the whole body; that we may feel all strokes and
appulses of things_.[80] Wherefore this sense, besides its other
uses, contributes vastly to the safety of the body, and the removal of
many evils, to which it is perpetually exposed. And this the sagacious
author seems to have principally in view, when he says: _They shall be
afraid of high places, and stumblings in the way_. For as old folks
are unsure of foot, even in a plain smooth way, by reason of the
weakness of their limbs; so when they come to a rugged uneven road,
thro' the dulness of this sense, they do not soon enough perceive the
depressions or elevations of the ground whereby they run the hazard of
stumbling and hurting their feet. Therefore they are not unjustly
represented as being _afraid_.
[80] _Nat. Deor. ii. 56._
The only one that remains of the senses is that of smelling, the
diminution of which in old men, he describes with equal elegance and
brevity in this manner: _the almond tree shall flower_. By which words
he seems to mean, that old people, as if they lived in a perpetual
winter, no longer perceive the agreeable odors exhaling from plants
and flowers in the spring and summer seasons. That this tree flowers
in winter, we learn from Pliny, who in treating of it says: _The
almond tree flowers the first of all trees, in the month of
January_.[81] I am not to learn, that these words are by most
interpreters understood as relating to grey hairs, which being
generally a sure token of old age, they would have us believe, are
denoted by the white flowers of the almond tree. But then, who can
imagine, that this wise author, after having indicated the defects of
four of the senses, by clear and distinct marks, would designedly
pass over the fifth in silence? Besides, white hairs are by no means
to be esteemed a sure and indubitable token of old-age; since there
are not a few to be found, who turn gray in the middle stage of life,
before their bodily strength is any ways impaired. Moreover, what they
say of the flowers of the almond tree, does not seem to agree with the
things they mean by them: for they are not, strictly speaking, white,
but of a purplish cast. Thus far concerning the senses: let us proceed
to the remaining part.
[81] _Lib. xvi. §. 42._
The scrotal rupture is a disease common to persons far advanced in
years; whether it be formed by the intestine or omentum slipping down
into the scrotum, or proceed from a humor distending that part. In
either case the part is tumefied. This pernicious disease the Preacher
thought proper to compare to a grasshopper. _The grasshopper_, says
he, _shall be a burthen, Oneri erit locusta_. For thus the Hebrew
phrase is more literally translated, than by _convenient cicadæ, the
cicadæ shall come together_, as the learned Castalio has rendered it.
Indeed the Vulgate version has _impinguabitur locusta_, _the
grasshopper shall be fatted_. The Septuagint [Greek: Pachynthê ê
achris]. _The grasshopper shall be fatted._ The Arabic version, turned
into Latin, _pinguescet locusta_, _The grasshopper shall grow fat_.
But our English translation, _The grasshopper shall be a burden_. It
is well known, that the Hebrew language is always modest, and that the
sacred Writers, in expressing such things as belong to the genital
members, abstain from indecent and obscene words, for fear of
offending chaste ears, and therefore borrow similitudes from any other
things at discretion. Which is particularly observable in the
_Canticum Canticorum_, or _Solomon_'s _Song_, written by our Author.
Now the grasshopper, or locust, is an odd-shaped animal, made up
chiefly of belly; and therefore, especially when full of eggs, may be
said to bear some resemblance to a scrotum, swoln by a rupture.
These parts being thus affected, the wise author adds, _the appetite
shall be lost_; wherein he does not attend so much to the appetite for
victuals, as for those other things, which are sought after in the
vigor of life. For as the author of _the Art of Love_ has rightly
said: _Turpe senilis amor_[82].
[82] _Ovid. Amorum, lib. i. Eclog. ix. ver. 4._
That old people are crushed to death by so great a heap of evils and
infirmities, and _depart to their eternal habitation_, to the grief
of their friends, can be no matter of wonder. But in the remaining
part of the discourse we are admonished, that their miseries in this
life are not confined within these bounds, but that sometimes there is
still an accession of others.
For loss of strength in old age does not terminate at the limbs, or
extremities of the body; the spine of the back also loses considerably
of its firmness, by the daily diminution of power in its muscles and
ligaments: hence an old man can seldom stand upright, but stoops his
body towards the earth, which is shortly to cover it. This part is
likened to a _silver chain_, which is said to be _broken asunder_. For
the _vertebræ_, of which it is composed, may be looked upon as the
rings or links, and they give way outward by the bending of the body.
Moreover the _medulla oblongata_, which passes through them, is of a
_silver_ or whitish colour.
These points, which we have hitherto handled, are very difficult of
explanation. But the three inconveniencies, which close the discourse,
are true ænigma's, and require an Oedipus to solve them. And as such
an one, in my opinion, has not appeared hitherto, I will use my
endeavours to do it. _The golden ewer_, says he, _is dashed in pieces:
the pitcher is broken at the fountain-head; and the chariot is dashed
in pieces at the pit_.
Old men are troubled with defluxions from the head to the nose, mouth
and lungs; which are compared to water rushing out of a broken bottle
or ewer. And the ewer is said to be _of gold_, to express the dignity
of the head.
Nor does phlegm flow from the head alone; but other parts also pour
forth their juices too abundantly or irregularly. For the serosities,
which are secreted by the kidneys (whose cavity is even at this day
named pelvis by Anatomists) runs into the bladder; which, by reason of
the relaxation of its sphincter, as if the pitcher were broken at the
fountain head, is not able to retain its contents a sufficient time.
Hence an incontinence or dribbling of urine is continually
troublesome.
Now, the evils hitherto enumerated lodge in particular parts; but the
last calamity, both in this discourse, as well as in old people, is
that the whole body is afflicted. The very course of the blood is
interrupted; hence wretched man is seized with difficulty of
breathing, apoplexies or lethargies. The heart also, the principle and
fountain of life, sinks thro' want of its usual force, _and the broken
chariot falls into the pit_. The ancients indeed did not know of the
circulation of the blood; but they could not be ignorant, that it was
moved thro' the body, that it cherished the viscera and members by its
heat, and lastly, that it concreted and grew cold in death.
But nothing in this whole discourse is so much worthy of our serious
attention as these words, with which he closes it. _The dust returns
to the earth, such as it had been; and the spirit returns to God, who
gave it._ For by these words his intention seems plainly to have been,
to refute the ignorant notions of those, who thought that the soul
perished with the body, and to assert its immortality.