No doubt it was
the intensity with which I realised the fact that we are never far
from death, none of us, that made it seem as if I were thinking on
this subject for the first time. As soon as we reach the age of
reflection the thought of death is never long out of our minds. It is
a subject on which we are always thinking. We go to bed thinking that
another day has gone, that we are another day nearer our graves. Any
incident suffices to remind us of death. That very morning I had seen
two old blue-bottles huddled together in the corner of a pane, and at
once remembered that a term of life is set out for all things--a few
months for the blue-bottle, a few years for me. One forgets how one
thought twenty years ago, but I am prone to think that even the young
meditate very often upon death; it must be so, for all their books
contain verses on the mutability of things, and as we advance in years
it would seem that we think more and more on this one subject, for
what is all modern literature but a reek of regret that we are but
bubbles on a stream? I thought that nothing that could be said on this
old subject could move me, but that boy from Derryanny had brought
home to me the thought that follows us from youth to age better than
literature could have done; he had exceeded all the poets, not by any
single phrase--it was more his attitude of mind towards death (towards
my death) that had startled me--and as I walked along the shore I
tried to remember his words.
Pages:
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397