Were the physical condition always perfect, and the mental state always that of enjoyment, the duration of life would always be extended to the utmost limit compatible with that of the organization of the body. But as this fortunate concurrence seldom or never happens, human life seldom or never numbers the full measure of its days. Uniform experience shows, however, that, provided no accident occur to interrupt the usual course, in proportion as body and mind approximate to this state, life is long; and as they recede from it, it is short. Improvement of the physical condition affords a foundation for the improvement of the mental state; improvement of the mental state improves up to a certain point the physical condition; and in the ratio in which this twofold improvement is effected, the duration of life increases.
Longevity then is a good, in the first place, because it is a sign and a consequence of the possession of a certain amount of enjoyment; and in the second place, because this being the case, of course in proportion as the term of life is extended, the sum of enjoyment must be augmented. And this view of longevity assigns the cause, and shows the reasonableness of that desire for long life which is so universal and constant as to be commonly considered instinctive. Longevity and happiness, if not invariably, are generally, co-incident.
If there may be happiness without longevity, the converse is not possible: there cannot be longevity without happiness. Unless the state of the body be that of tolerable health, and the state of the mind that of tolerable enjoyment, long life is unattainable: these physical and mental conditions no longer existing, nor capable of existing, the desire of life and the power of retaining it cease together.
An advanced term of life and decrepitude are commonly conceived to be synonymous: the extension of life is vulgarly supposed to be the protraction of the period of infirmity and suffering, that period which is characterized by a progressive diminution of the power of sensation, and a consequent and proportionate loss of the power of enjoyment, the "sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing." But this is so far from being true, that it is not within the compass of human power to protract in any sensible degree the period of old age properly so called, that is, the stage of decrepitude. In this stage of existence, the physical changes that successively take place clog, day by day, the vital machinery, until it can no longer play. In a space of time, fixed within narrow limits, the flame of life must then inevitably expire, for the processes that feed it fail. But though, when fully come, the term of old age cannot be extended, the coming of the term may be postponed. To the preceding stage, an indefinite number of years may be added. And this is a fact of the deepest interest to human nature.
The division of human life into periods or epochs is not an arbitrary distinction, but is founded on constitutional differences in the system, dependent on different physiological conditions. The periods of infancy, childhood, boyhood, adolescence, manhood, and old age, are distinguished from each other by external characters, which are but the outward signs of internal states. In physiological condition, the infant differs from the child, the child from the boy, the boy from the man, and the adult from the old man, as much in physical strength as in mental power. There is an appointed order in which these several states succeed each other; there is a fixed time at which one passes into another. That order cannot be inverted: no considerable anticipation or postponement of that fixed time can be effected. In all places and under all circumstances, at a given time, though not precisely at the same time in all climates and under all modes of life, infancy passes into childhood, childhood into boyhood, boyhood into adolescence, and adolescence into manhood. In the space of two years from its birth, every infant has ceased to be an infant, and has become a child; in the space of six years from this period, every male child will have become a boy; add eight years to this time, and every boy will have become a young man; in eight years more, every young man will have become an adult man; and in the subsequent ten years, every adult man will have acquired his highest state of physical perfection. But at what period will this state of physical perfection decline? What is the maximum time during which it can retain its full vigour? Is that maximum fixed? Is there a certain number of years in which, by an inevitable law, every adult man necessarily becomes an old man? Is precisely the same number of years appointed for this transition to every human being? Can no care add to that number? Can no imprudence take from it? Does the physiological condition or the constitutional age of any two individuals ever advance to precisely the same point in precisely the same number of years? Physically and mentally, are not some persons older at fifty than others are at seventy? And do not instances occasionally occur in which an old man, who reaches even his hundredth year, retains as great a degree of juvenility as the majority of those who attain to eighty?
If this be so, what follows? One of the most interesting consequences that can be presented to the human mind. The duration of the periods of infancy, childhood, boyhood, and adolescence, is fixed by a determinate number of years. Nothing can stay, nothing retard, the succession of each. Alike incapable of any material protraction is the period of old age. It follows that every year by which the term of human existence is extended is really added to the period of mature age; the period when the organs of the body have attained their full growth and put forth their full strength; when the physical organization has acquired its utmost perfection; when the senses, the feelings, the emotions, the passions, the affections, are in the highest degree acute, intense, and varied; when the intellectual faculties, completely unfolded and developed, carry on their operations with the greatest vigour, soundness, and continuity; in a word, when the individual is capable of receiving and of communicating the largest amount of the highest kind of enjoyment.
A consideration more full of encouragement, more animating, there cannot be. The extension of human life, in whatever mode and degree it may be possible to extend it, is the protraction of that portion of it, and only of that portion of it, in which the human being is capable of RECEIVING AND OF COMMUNICATING THE LARGEST MEASURE OF THE NOBLEST KIND OF ENJOYMENT.
Considerations, purely physiological, establish this indubitably; but it is curious that a class of facts, totally different from those of a physiological nature, equally prove it; namely, the results obtained from the observation of the actual numbers that die at different ages, and the knowledge consequently acquired of the progressive decrement of life. Mortality is subject to a law, the operation of which is as regular as that of gravitation. The labours of my valued friend Mr. Finlaison, the actuary of the National Debt, have not only determined what that law is in relation to different nations at different periods of their history, but this celebrated calculator has also invented a striking mode of expressing and representing the fact. He constructed a chart on which 100 perpendicular lines, answering to the respective ages of human life, are laid down and numbered in succession. These are crossed at right angles by 500 horizontal lines; so that, in the manner of musical notation, a point may be laid down either on the horizontal line, or on the space between any two of them: and thus, 1000 points may be laid down on each of the perpendicular lines. The horizontal lines are in like manner numbered from 1 to 1000, ascending from the base. Taking any observation which shows the number of living persons that commence, and in like manner the number that die in each particular year of human life, the calculator reduced by the rule of three every such actual number of living persons for every separate year to 10,000: he next showed the corresponding proportion of deaths out of such 10,000. These proportions he represented on the chart by a point inserted on the horizontal line or space for the number of deaths, and on the perpendicular line for the particular age. He then connected all the points so laid down, and the result is a curve, representing the track of death through an equal number of human beings existing at each age of life. As the curve rises on the perpendicular line, at any given age, it indicates by so much an increase of the mortality at that age; and as the curve falls, the reverse is denoted.