ons are upon ages gone; his work competes with
that of the dead. In his reveries and imaginings, he can transport
himself anywhither, and can commune with any friend or god. Hence to be
master of one's environment is really to have the universe within
one's grasp.

We are too much afraid of customs and traditions. We are put into our
times, not that the times may mould us, but that we may mould the times!
Ways? Customs? They exist to be changed! The _tempora_ and the _mores_
should be plastic to our touch. The times are never level with our best.
Our souls are higher than the _Zeitgeist_. Why should we cringe before
an inferior essence or command? But society seals our lips: we walk
about with frozen tongues.

Each asks himself at some time: How shall I become one of the Victors of
the race? Is it in me? Mankind is weighted by every previous sin. Where
am I free? How am I free? Can I do as I choose? Or are there bourns of
conduct beyond which I can never go? Am I foreordained to sin? Do the
stars in their courses lay limitations on free will?

There are in man two forces working: a human longing after God, and, in
response, God inly working in the soul. The Victor is he who, in his own
life, unites these two things: a great longing after the god-like, which
makes him yearn for virtue,--and the divine power within him, through
which and by which he is triumphant over time and death and sin.

Whatever our trials, sorrows, or temptations, joy and courage are ever
meant to be in the ascendant; life, however it may break in storms upon
us, is not meant to beat down our souls. Unless we are triumphant, we
are not wholly useful or well trained. Will and heart together work
for victory.

As there flashes and thrills through all nature a subtle electric
vibration which is the supreme form of physical energy, so there runs
through the history of mankind a current of spiritual inspiration and
power. To possess this magnetism of soul, this heroism of life, this
flame-like flower of character, is to be Victor in the great combats of
the race. It is the spirit of courage, energy, and love. Nothing is too
hard for it, nothing too distasteful, nothing too insignificant. Through
all the course of duty it spurs one to do one's best. Its essence is to
overcome. This is the indwelling Holy Spirit, wherein is freedom, power,
and rest. To its final triumph all things are accessory. To joy, all
powers converge.

II. PRELUDE: THE