From Pillar to Post 



an outlook never leads us astray. Eden in Oc- 

 tober, but not a new-bom one. An autumnal 

 Elysium here, now, this twenty-third of Octo- 

 ber, but no trace of the beginning of such glorj' 

 remains. The forest with its crimson banners 

 is a retreating, not an advancing host. What 

 was promised has been accomplished, and this 

 is the theme to-day of all rejoicing. If there be 

 Edens and Edens, not a single one, that being 

 long lost, then grade them as to character only, 

 for their value is the same. There is that Eden 

 created every bright May morning: there is the 

 Eden of an October day. 



Paradise was not for a brief space and never 

 to return. The world is a series of short-lived 

 creations. Paradise is daily lost, perhaps ; but, 

 if you so desire, it is also, daily, Paradise re- 

 gained. 



Shall I eaU thee Bird 



Or but a wandering voice? 



The echo is seldom as distinct as the original 

 sound and not pvery October day is even sug- 

 gestive of summer. At its best, the month is 

 something more than imitative. It has charac- 

 teristics all its own. Quiet enthusiasm, so at- 



293 



