PROSY MIDDLE LIFE.

Press, Volume LIII, Issue 9605, 21 December 1896, Page 2

PROSY MIDDLE LIFE.

I 2Ji*7ioi> 0/ -jjipou, in the Temple Magazine. \ The poetry oE life gathers round its com* mencement and its close, just as the poet ;~, finds inspiration in the rising or the setting \- sun. Infancy has its charm of innocence, : youth has its oharm of energy and hope, '"_ has its oharm of pathos.' Bnt round middle life there seems to gather no halo of poetry. ;. The bird that wakes the morning its >. 1 song is silent in the midday hour. The burden and heat of the day are not favourable ta music The poet who wilLcelebrate the open brow of childhood or the iurrowed ohbek of , age will find no inspiration in the anxious eye and busy front of middle life. The maiden who moves fancy free amottg the meadows, and the tired face and eyes-of tranquil resignation, bordered by silver hair, may alike provoke his muse. But wHo will sing of the middle-aged man or the middleaged matron? Who will find inspiration fi-oin the stout man, who travols daily ih» town from some northern height, transacts proB&io business in a stuffy office, and all evening lets himself into his house with a latch key, kicks off his boots, assumes hie.. , easy coat and dippers, eats in silence and with capacity, frowns upon the children's noise, and ahewers his wife testily ii be answers her at all, and-generally lets a grunt stand for an answer ? And does Wβ wtto rouse poetic fire? She, poor soul, now in the forties, -\ has left the graoe of other days behind her. . She is heedless other appearance; her clothes fit badly ; she has an unkempt and slovenly ; air; she is immersed in household cares; I Her soul does not rise above her tradesmen's books and her children's clothes. The piano, on which she onoe did execution, responds ■* now only to the sound o£ scales practised by - -; uncertain and childish fingers. The whole ,' atmosphere of such lives lacks the poetic , . quality. Their existence is practical, prosaic, . dull. Wβ and it hard to invest auoh live* . with poetry, '' j,J But there' are benedictions for middle life < which, if not so glorious as those of yoath,.;, may be more substantial and abiding. It fcj£not without advantage that we leave you%; •;■ behind. The rich colouring fades from the;; , ,' sky. The splendid shapes which we caW m the early visions melt away 1 'the. light, ot ■*>**, common day .takes the pUctf gorgeous; l v hueu of the dawn.-. of .the*. . conduct of life, are ihdra, forcibly >rMMO£?|* upon our attention.■ J. Whatever, tjoi€ta»/' : ;;f influences -cast theft put, ■£ before, we must be practiflit nrfiv., ( .W.e ;"''• not exist boautifully, we must U»e ably. We learn to translate the sentiments " t>, of our, younger- life into, the of lßter life. Iβ not the ohangenf for good? The strong gosh of tender feel. '-"\, ings, which we thought to be an all-Bufficbig '. ? evidence of life, we find to be not all, nor nearly enough. Life is not to feel, but to bo.'««| It is not the sentimental experiences of lotty *■* and exhilarating feelings; it is the patient ;1 and heroic discharge of duty. The blesfiinge 'JM of middle life are the blessings of eduoaiionj||| and achievement. It is the. time which Iβ least anxious perhaps |>f responds' least readily to movement*" emotion. Bnt it may be doing; solid work,' and building houses which other men m»y i dwell in. If sacrifice for the good of others. A can confer gladness, the middle-aged aey keja