Mithridates, He Died Old
He sampled poison to avoid dying — but did he live? Living is more important than not dying.
A.E. Housman can always be counted on to provide sober reflections on mortality. His first book A Shropshire Lad defended this dark view of fate. Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff is about girding up against the trials and betrayals of life. But as much as I love Housman. We can also take the opposing view. Life is the point of living, not avoiding death.
The last stanzas from A.E. Houseman’s Terence This is Stupid Stuff
There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him cat;
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white’s their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt.
— I tell the tale that I heard told.
Mithridates, he died old.
King Mithridates ruled Pontus. Pontus was a minor power in the region known today as northern Anatolia in Turkey. It had a brief moment of fame when it managed to resist Rome more effectively than the other successor Hellenic kingdoms.
The only real thing King Mithridates is known for is his legendary suspicion. To prevent assassinations he carried out a long project of developing tolerance to poisons. He exposed himself to small doses of all the major poisons, hoping to become immune over time.
Whether or not this worked we cannot know. Since of course — in the end, he unsurprisingly did die. So “Mithridates, he died old” but did he really live? I think not. I do not believe his strategy was the best way to journey through life. Life is not the same as not dying.
As we age, the body accumulates much wear and tear and many accidents. Modern medical science provides us with huge advances in mitigating these events. Of course, this is a good thing. But, as Aristotle said, balance in all things.
Sickness is a natural calamity. I say natural because damage and death are not unnatural. They are part and parcel of being alive. Not very welcome parts, but a part of the process as surely as birth. So then, should we spend our waking days in the machinery of medicine? I think not.
The purpose of being alive is not to mark a calendar. There is a natural desire to prolong our lives. But we are not eternal. Our lives should have a meaning beyond simple existence. Getting the latest MRI will not replace time spent with your loved ones. It is not a substitute for writing or painting. Blood work is not real work. It doesn’t replace the toil of building a meaningful life.
I do not ignore modern medical utility. It has greatly improved the longevity of life. But it is false to say it has improved it. Life is measured by what we build, create, nurture, and love. Not by how long our arms, minds, and hearts continue to ping on a monitor.
One measures your heart in impulses, the other in meaning.
Every hour spent making Medical corporations rich is an hour lost enriching your human legacy. Not the same as time spent in a garden, a classroom, or at a dining table with friends.
I am making an extreme argument — I know. I am not urging anyone to ignore medical science. I merely want to point out that the opposite extreme is equally harmful. We should not spend our days in search of that which is impossible. Immortality is not ours, nor is eternal health.
Aristotle said between the vices of excess and deficiency lies the Golden Mean. In the middle lies virtue. Thus with all things. All things, including medical intervention.
Get Lyle Hedley’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
I love AE Houseman. But in all respect, I wrote this response.
“King Mithridates he died old”
He spent his life at war with death
and all that time, his whole long life
was spent in battles, long and true
with all the many ways to die
But death just waited, still and sure
So in his time, though long delayed
doom came for kings as all of us
Death grasped his hand and walked him home
“King Mithridates he died old”
Yet loved no one that we can know
He sang no songs remembered here
Wrote no poems, tended no garden
He spent his life avoiding death
But then with all his life run dry
Who stood and wept beside the grave?
If the plan is to avoid dying for as long as possible? Well, that is possible, but is it desirable? Because if your mission in life is to prevent dying, then you have a shock coming.
As I approach the later years of my life I find another reason to see a doctor every week. Blood sugar, vision, frozen shoulders, moles, and countless other maledictions. I am not saying I do not mind my health. But that is because I enjoy my life. Spending all my life chasing health is putting the cart before the horse. There is a limit to how much of my life I will trade for maintenance of a machine already far out of warranty. Fighting for life is good. But, living to battle death is foolish. Remember, in the end, death wins all the trophies.
I am not saying life has to be monumental or adventurous. I am no model for any kind of adventurous life. I am not anything we associate with bold adventure. Such a life is wonderful but it has not been mine.
But I have lived a meaningful one. I have scores of students whose lives I have touched. I have created some little art. Some of my life has gone into poetry. I have raised gardens from the ground. I am loved, not always in the way I wish and my circle keeps shrinking — but I am loved. I hope my love will live on in those people. There will be mourners at my graveside.
I do not think the purpose of life is to find the slowest most safe path to the grave. Avoiding death is not a goal it is a delusion. Choose your road remembering that the point of life is to live.
So no, I will not be spending my last years in a doctor’s office. My meals will not be spiced with pharmaceuticals. But, likewise, I won’t be climbing mountains. Nor am I likely to become rich and famous. That was not my path. This is my road and I am happy with it. Any life that has meaning is a good life.
Try to find a balance between rational healthcare and obsession. You are not going to live forever. So in the time between birth and death maximize the living part. Death will take care of itself.
If you enjoyed my work here is another poem I am modestly proud of:







