Democratic Sentinel, Volume 12, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 June 1888 — How to Prolong Life. [ARTICLE]

How to Prolong Life.

It is tersely said that “all fools are mad, though some are madder than others, ” and, perhaps, among the maddest of them it would be safe to reckon those who, having but one life to live, run through with it in vain lamentation over troubles which they cannot avoid, or, what is vainer, over those which they can, and which, sometimes, are so far in the future that they never come to bother them, To “take Time by the forelock,” is a very profitable grip to hold on that slippery old fellow; is not slippery, and we should practice our haste and activity rather in keeping out of her way as long as possible —to build a wall of mirth, as jt were, between her and us, over which her clumsy feet wouldnever venture* to climb. Gravity is a grave thing. It may be appropriate at certain tipes and in certain, places, but as an every-day dish it is tough and indigestible. A continual diet of India rubber would, perhaps, be as favorable to the growth and flourish of the body and mind. Therefore, if we are wise as well as grave, we can show our wisdom in no stronger way than dropping our gravity and “playing the fool now and then.” Even Socrates himself knew the danger of too much gravity, and frequently took occasion to sink some of it in the gay tide of merriment. “Mirth," says an old writer, “purgeth the blood, confirms health, cau eth a fresh, pleasing and fine color, prorogues life, whets the wit, and maketh the body young, lively and fit for any manner of employment?’ And if we need further proof of its life-giving properties we can find it in the Bible, spread forth in unequivocal and unmistakable words: “A merry heart is the life of the flesh,” saith Proverds; and in Ecclesiastes we are told that “Gladness prolongs a man’s days.” In the plodding, matter-of-fact days of the present, it seems, we have too little time to think of much else than “business, serious business,” and, when we come to think of it, it is a serious business to have oar lives shortened with cares and labors; cares and labors that would be a great deal more palatable and fat less death-dealing if seasoned with a little mirth and nonsense. Let us reform this altogether, and take profitably to heart Shakspeare’s advice: “Frame your mind for mirth and merriment Which bars a thousand harms. ’