By The Editor October
OCTOBER―the leaves are falling, the chilling shadows come! And such is life! A changing season; a shadowed landscape! Hopes fade, and pleasure’s sunshine dies in shadow. God give us to fix our hopes on a better world than this: “The fashion of this world passeth away.” So found a celebrated poet, who said, almost with his dying breath, “Save me from the horrors of a jail.” He had been feted and honored for a brief moment by the great and noble of this earth, but the shadows came, and all the golden glory of fame went, and all was darkness.
The poet Campbell, who wrote “The Pleasures of Hope,” basked for awhile in the, delusive splendor of earthly fame and glory, but when the shadows came he cried, in the gathering darkness, “I am alone in the world. My wife and the child of my hopes are dead: My only surviving child is consigned to a living tomb―a lunatic asylum. My last hopes are blighted. As for fame, it is a bubble that must soon burst.”
Yes, this is how earth’s dead leaves fall; this is how the shadows come. “In His presence is fullness of joy; at His right hand pleasures for evermore.”