A Review.

Into the arctic regions of our lives , Where little else than life itself survives . " There is something almost hushed and beautiful in the closing lines : — " As the barometer foretells the storm

While still the skies are clear , the weather warm , So something in us , as old age draws near , Betrays the pressure of the atmosphere . The nimble mercury , ere we are aware ,

Descends the elastic ladder of the air ; The telltale blood in artery and vein Sinks from its higher levels in the brain ; Whatever poet , orator , or sage May say of it , old age is still old age . It is the waning , not the orescent moon , The dusk of evening , not the blaze of

noon : It is not strength , but weakness ; not desire , But its surcease ; not the fierce heat of fire , The burning and consuming element , But that of ashes and of embers spent , In which some living sparks we still

discern , Enough to warm , but not enough to burn . What then ? Shall we sit idly down and say The night hath come ; it is no longer day ?

The night hath not yet come ; we are not quite Cut off from labour by the failing light ; Something remains for us to do or dare ; Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear ;

Not CEdipus Coloneus , or Greek Ode , Or tales of pilgrims that one morning rode Out of the gateway of the Tabard Inn , But other something , would we but begin ;

¦ ror age is opportunity no less Than youth itself , though in another dress , And as the evening twilight fades away fhe sk y is filled with stars invisible by day . " "We have preferred to let these golden w ° rds speak for themselves . Many of

A Review.

them are imprinted in our memories , and we trust that they will be preserved in the memories of many others , as no better , nobler words were ever uttered by any of " God ' s singers" and no more effective

, and real and living , poetry in its hi ghest characteristics , has been submitted in our age at any rate , to the sympathies of the cultured , and the admiration of the intelligent .

The Women Of Our Time.

THE WOMEN OF OUR TIME .

BY CiELEBS . UNSATISFACTORY WOMEN . . I AM getting very near the " end of my tether" and in another paper these

lucubra-, tions of mine must have an end . But before 1 close the fitful page , I wish to say a word upon a topic which is , I think , sometimes overlooked by us all in dealing with the question of our female world today . We meet in society often with

women whom it is difficult to class in any of the categories we have been touching upon . " Nondescripts" we may not unfairly term them ; and most unsatisfactory they are , under every form , and in every circumstance , in which you confront them , or they alarm you . I do not mean to say that this unsatisfactoriness is

evidenced in the same way , because it is not , but yet we all know it , and all have experienced it , more or less . How many unsatisfactory women do you and I , kind readers , know , and know well , too , in our little neighbourhoods , and even domestic

circles ? Unsatisfactory they are—most unsatisfactory—in every relation of life , too often making life a curse , instead of a blessing , to many a poor wayfarer here , and perverting the great gifts and privileges of home existence , of talents , and

powers , and graces , to the very worst possible use , forgetting alike their responsibility to God , and their duty to man . It is perhaps not quite so easy , as I attempted to point out at first , to lay down decidedly here any strict canon of that which makes up an unsatisfactory woman , because some