Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Get ready FOR OLD AGE

Get ready FOR OLD AGE. Socrates was once asked by a student, this inquiry: "What sort of individuals might we be the point at which we reach Elysium?"

OLD AGE

What's more, the answer was this: "We should be the same sort of individuals that we were here."

On the off chance that there is an existence after this, we are get ready for it now, pretty much as I am today get ready for my life tomorrow.

What sort of a man might I be tomorrow? Gracious, about the same sort of a man that I am presently. The sort of a man that I should be one month from now relies on the sort of a man that I have been for the current month.

In the event that I am hopeless today, it is not inside of the round of probabilities that I might be especially glad tomorrow. Paradise is a propensity. Also, in the event That we are going to Heaven we would better be getting accustomed to it.

Life is an arrangement for the future; and the best planning for what's to come is to live as though there were none.

We are setting up all the time for seniority. The two things that make seniority excellent are acquiescence and an only thought for the privileges of others.

In the play of Ivan the Terrible, the interest revolves around one man, the Czar Ivan. In the event that anyone however Richard Mansfield filled the role, there would be nothing in it. We essentially get a look into the life of a despot who has run the full range of goosedom, surliness, self-centeredness and grump. By the way this man had the ability to execute other men, and this he does and has done as his impulse and temper may direct. He has been noxious, unfeeling, unruly, oppressive and loathsome. Since he feels the methodology of death, he would come to terms with God. However, he has deferred that matter too long. He didn't understand in youth and center life that he was then get ready for seniority.

Man is the consequence of circumstances and end results, and the reasons are to a degree in our grasp. Life is a liquid, and well has it been known as the surge of life we are making a go at, streaming some place. Strip Ivan of his robes and crown, and he may be an old agriculturist and live in Ebenezer. Each town and town has its Ivan. To be an Ivan, simply turn your temper free and practice savagery on any individual or thing inside of your span, and the outcome will be a certain readiness for a peevish, factious, pickety, snipity, fastidious and absurd seniority, complemented with numerous upheavals of rage that are awful in their purposelessness and insufficiency.

Infancy has no imposing business model on the fit. The characters of King Lear and Ivan the Terrible have much in like manner. One may practically trust that the author of Ivan had felt the fragmentation of Lear, and had seen the ridiculousness of making a sensational offer for sensitivity for sake of this old man push out by his girls.

Lear, the troublesome, Lear to whose nimble tongue there was always jumping words unprintable and names of tar, merits no delicate compassion at our hands. All his life he had been preparing his three girls for precisely the treatment he was to get. All his life Lear had been greasing up the chute that was to give him a speedy ride out into that dark midnight storm.

"Gracious, how more keen than a serpent's tooth it is to have a difficult tyke," he cries.

There is something as terrible as an unpleasant youngster, and that is a difficult guardian an incensed, irritable guardian who has an underground vocabulary and an air to utilize it.

The false note in Lear lies in providing for him a girl like Cordelia. Tolstoy and Mansfield seem to be accurate, and Ivan the Terrible is the thing that he is without expression of remorse, reason or clarification. Take it or abandon it on the off chance that you don't care for plays of this kind, go to see Vaudeville.

Mansfield's Ivan is frightful. The Czar is not old in years not more than seventy but rather you can see that Death is sniffing close upon his track. Ivan has lost the force of rest. He can't tune in, measure and choose he has no idea or thought for any man or thing this is his propensity forever. His hard hands are never still the fingers transparent, and pick at things interminably. He bumbles the cross on his bosom, changes his gems, scratches his universe, plays the demon's tattoo, gets up apprehensively and looks behind the throne, holds his breath to tune in. At the point when individuals address him, he damns them viciously in the event that they bow, and on the off chance that they stand upright he blames them for absence of admiration. He asks that he be eased from the considerations of state, and after that trembles for apprehension his kin will take him at his oath. At the point when solicited to remain ruler from Russia he continues to condemnation his councilors and blames them for stacking him with weights that they themselves would not try to hold up under.

He is a casualty of love senilis, and right here if Mansfield made one stride more his authenticity would be shocking, however he stops in time and proposes what he sets out not express. This tottering, doddering, drooling, wheezing old man is infatuated he speaks the truth to marry a youthful, delightful young lady. He chooses gems for her he makes comments about what might turn into her magnificence, sneers and giggles in split falsetto. In the animality of youth there is something satisfying it is normal however the indecencies of an old man, when they have turned out to be just mental, are generally loathsome.

The individuals about Ivan are in mortal fear of him, for he is still the outright ruler he has the ability to advance or disrespect, to take their lives or let them go free. They snicker when he chuckles, cry when he does, and watch his short lived states of mind with pounding hearts.

He is seriously religious and influences the robe and cowl of a cleric. Around his neck hangs the cross. His apprehension is that he will bite the dust with no chance of admission and exoneration. He implores High Heaven each minute, kisses the cross, and his toothless old mouth contributes requests to God to God and condemnations on man at the same time.

On the off chance that any one is conversing with him he looks the other path, descends until his shoulders involve the throne, scratches his leg, and keeps up a running remark of affront "Yes," "Goodness," "obviously," "Unquestionably," "Ugh," "Hear him out now!" There is a comic drama side to this which mitigates the disaster and keeps the play from getting to be appalling.

Looks of Ivan's past are given in his jerky admissions he is the most hopeless and troubled of men, and you see that he is harvesting as he has sown.

All his life he has been planning for this. Every day has been a planning for the following. Ivan passes on in an attack of rage, throwing condemnations on his family and court kicks the bucket in an attack of fierceness into which he has been deliberately insulted by a man who realizes that the upheaval is sure to execute the debilitated ruler.

Where does Ivan the Terrible go when Death shuts his eyes? 


I know not. Be that as it may, this I trust: No confession booth can acquit him no minister advantage him no God overlook him. He has doomed himself, and he started the work in youth. He was getting prepared all his life for this maturity, and this seniority was getting prepared for the fifth demonstration.

The writer does not say as much, Mansfield does not say as much, but rather this is the lesson: Hate is a toxic substance fury is a poison exotic nature prompts demise grasping childishness is a lighting of the flames of damnation. It is each of the a readiness circumstances and end results.

In the event that you are ever vindicated, you must pardon yourself, for nobody else can. Also, the sooner you start, the better.

We frequently know about the wonders of seniority, yet the main maturity that is lovely is the one the man has long been get ready for by carrying on with a delightful life. Each one of us are at this time get ready for maturity.

There may be a substitute some place on the planet for Good Nature, yet I don't know where it can be found.

The mystery of salvation is this: Keep Sweet.








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