. The romance of youth has worn off; the romance of
age has not arrived. They are between the poetry of the dawn and the
poetry of the twilight. And midway between the poetry of the dawn and
the poetry of the twilight comes the panting perspiration of noonday.
When, therefore, I find myself face to face with my congregation of
people who are in the very act of celebrating their fortieth birthday,
I shall urge them to pray with the old prophet that, in the midst of
the years, the youthful romance of their first faith may be revived
within them, and that, in the midst of the years, the revelations that
come at eventide may be delightfully anticipated.

I said just now, however, that I had an alternative text from the New
Testament. I have an idea that if my first service is a success, I
shall hold another; and, for the sake of variety, I shall address
myself to this second theme. Concerning the very first apostolic
miracle we are expressly and significantly told that '_the man was
above forty years old on whom this miracle of healing was showed_.'
Now I cannot imagine why that particular is added unless it is to tell
those of us who are now 'above forty years old' that we are not beyond
the reach of the sensational. We have not outlived the romance of the
miraculous. We are not 'too old at forty' to experience all the marvel
and the wonder of the grace divine. And, even as I write, I
confidently anticipate the sparkle that will light up the eyes of these
forty-year-olds as I remind them that that man was above forty years of
age upon whom this first triumph of the Church was wrought.

But there are worse things than prosiness. The mere change from the
poetry of youth to the prose of middle life need not in itself alarm
us. Some of the finest classics in our literature are penned in prose.
But within this minor peril lies the germ of a major peril. The
trouble is that prosiness may develop into pessimism. And when
prosiness curdles into pessimism the case of the patient is very grave.
I heard a young fellow in his teens telling a much older man of his
implicit faith in the providence of God. 'Yes,' said the senior, with
a sardonic smile, 'I used to talk like that when I was your age!' I
heard a young girl telling a woman old enough to be her mother of the
rapture of her soul's experience. 'Ah!' replied the elder lady, 'You
won't talk like that when you have seen as much of the world as I
have!' Here, then,