74 THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



fall to planning before the tremors of the fright 

 have ceased. Upon the crumbled, smoking heap of 

 San Francisco a second splendid city has arisen and 

 shall ever rise. Terror can kill the living, but it can- 

 not hinder them from forgetting, or prevent them 

 from hoping, or, for more than an instant, stop 

 them from doing. Such is the law of life the law 

 of heaven, of my pastures, of the little junco, of my- 

 self. Life, Law, and Matter are all of one piece. 

 The horse in my stable, the robin, the toad, the 

 beetle, the vine in my garden, the garden itself, 

 and I together with them all, come out of the same 

 divine dust ; we all breathe the same divine breath ; 

 we have our beings under the same divine laws; only 

 they do not know that the law, the breath, and the 

 dust are divine. If, with all that I know of fear, I 

 can so readily forget it, and can so constantly feel 

 the hope and the joy of life within me, how soon for 

 them, my lowly fellow mortals, must vanish all sight 

 of fear, all memory of pain ! And how abiding with 

 them, how compelling, the necessity to live ! And 

 in their unquestioning obedience, what joy ! 



The face of the fields is as changeful as the face 

 of a child. Every passing wind, every shifting cloud, 

 every calling bird, every baying hound, every shape, 

 shadow, fragrance, sound, and tremor, are reflected 

 there. But if time and experience and pain come, they 

 pass utterly away ; for the face of the fields does not 

 grow old or wise or seamed with pain. It is always the 



