One often hears people express their indifference to death, but an examination into their real feelings on the subject soon shows the true state of affairs. I once happened to be present when a lady, already well advanced in years, expressed a wish for death, and said that she had no fear of it whatever. On acquiring a fuller knowledge of her case, I recognised that she was seriously ill, and that she regarded death as the only possible termination to her sufferings. As soon as she found that recovery was possible, she manifested intense delight at the prospect of a prolonged life freed from incessant pain. Instinctive love of life, and fear of death, which is only a manifestation of the former, are of an importance in the study of human nature impossible to over-estimate; it is therefore necessary to consider a few instances throwing light upon the subject. Even the ancients were interested in the problem. The subject is perhaps as well dealt with in a Buddhist legend as anywhere.[134] “The young Prince Çakya-Mouni, the founder of the Buddhist faith, being desirous of discovering the true meaning of life, expressed a wish to leave the world and devote himself to a religious life. In order to turn him from his purpose, his father built him a magnificent palace, wherein he could indulge in every sort of pleasure, and in which he would be protected from all sorrow. Under this system he never saw old people, nor those who were diseased, nor the dead. In spite of being thus strictly guarded, the young prince often contrived to escape into the outer world in order to drive about. During his first drive, he met a broken-down, decrepid old man, with varicose veins, decayed teeth, a wrinkled skin, and grey hair, bent double with age like the roof of a house, leaning upon a stick; all traces of youth had departed from him, only inarticulate words came from his throat, his procumbent body resting on the stick, and his limbs and every part of them trembling.” Having learnt from his coachman that this was an old man, and that “in all living creatures age creeps upon youth,” that every one came to it and that “there was no way out of it,” the prince was so deeply impressed that he said to his coachman, “What a misfortune to be a weak foolish person, whose intelligence, blinded by the pride of youth, sees nothing of old age. Turn round my chariot. I would return. What are games and pleasures to me whose body is the future dwelling-place of old age?” Another time Çakya-Mouni met on the road a man consumed by fever, his body weakened, his breathing difficult. Informed by his coachman that the man was suffering from disease, the young prince exclaimed; “Health, then, is a mere dream, and the fear of disease takes a terrible form. What wise man, having seen such a phase of human existence, could continue to be gay and happy?” Shortly after Çakya-Mouni went out for the third time, and “saw a dead man placed on a bier covered by a pall,