Ultima Thule by Archibald MacMechan. Copyright - McClelland & Stewart, Toronto, 1927.
When Tityrus made his beechen bower echo with the name of Amaryllis, it is highly probable that the nymph's real name was quite different and far more prosaic. It is, in truth, a dull lover who can rest content with the real name of his mistress and cannot invent some appellation more subtly symbolic of her manifold, adorable qualities.
If then one Aged Lover who has not renounced Love chooses to designate the Province of Nova Scotia by a less familiar name, it is in token of his affection for the land and for the people. If precedent be invoked, Howe named it Ultima Thule a century ago. The name is poetry. Nova Scotia, -- Acadie, -- Arcadia, -- The Mayflower Province, -- Ultima Thule, -- “'Tis all one reckonings,” as Fluellen says. By parity of reasoning, I may, without reproof, give to Halifax the name Dolcefar, or “Pleasant Doing,” avoiding all insinuation of niente.
Within these covers are assembled some score of attempts to seize and reveal the spirit of the place. So far from being exaggerated or overstated, these papers represent but broken gleams of the visionary beauty induced by the genius of this sea-beaten, mist-mantled, valley-cloven, many-watered, green-garmented Province of Canada which fronts the Atlantic and the rising sun. The inspiring reality is far more wonderful. Such as they are, their one aim is praise of Nova Scotia.