Some old people are oppressed by the fear of death. In the young there is a justification for this feeling. Young men who have reason to fear that they will be killed in battle may justifiably feel bitter in the thought that they have cheated of the best things that life has to offer. But in an old man who has known human joys and sorrows, and has achieved whatever work it was in him to do, the fear of death is somewhat abject and ignoble. The best way to overcome it -- so at least it seems to me -- is to make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. An individual human existence should be like a river -- small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past boulders and over waterfalls.

 

Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being. The man who, in old age, can see his life in this way, will not suffer from the fear of death, since the things he cares for will continue. And if, with the decay of vitality, weariness increases, the thought of rest will be not unwelcome. I should wish to die while still at work, knowing that others will carry on what I can no longer do, and content in the thought that what was possible has been done.

 

有些老年人因為怕死而感到煩惱。青年人有這種感覺是情有可原的。有理由害怕自己會死在戰(zhàn)場上的年輕人，想到自己被剝奪了生活所能給予的最美好的東西時，感到痛苦，這是可以理解的。可是老年人已經(jīng)飽嘗了人間的甘苦，一切能做的都做了，如果怕死，就有點兒可憐又可鄙�？朔�怕死的最好辦法 -- 至少在我看來是這樣 -- 就是逐漸使自己的興趣更加廣泛，逐漸擺脫個人狹小的圈子，直到自我的圍墻一點一點地倒塌下來，自己的生活慢慢地和整個宇宙的生活融合在一起。

 

個人的存在應(yīng)該像一條河流，開始很小，被緊緊地夾在兩岸中間，接著熱情奔放地沖過巨石，飛下瀑布。然后河面漸漸地變寬，兩岸后撤，河水流得平緩起來，最后連綿不斷地匯入大海，毫無痛苦地失去了自我的存在。上了年紀的人這樣看待生命，就不會有懼怕死亡的心情了，因為自己關(guān)心的一切事件都會繼續(xù)下去。 再者，隨著精力的衰退，老年人的疲憊會增長，有長眠的愿望未嘗不是一件好事情，我希望工作到死為止，明白了有人會繼續(xù)我的未竟事業(yè)，想到能做的事都做了，也就坦然了。