he voices of
the silent shore." These are the far-wandered powers of our own
nature, and they turn again home at our need. We came out of the Great
Mother-Life for the purposes of soul. Are her darlings forgotten where
they darkly wander and strive? Never. Are not the lives of all her
heroes proof? Though they seem to stand alone the eternal Mother keeps
watch on them, and voices far away and unknown to them before arise in
passionate defense, and hearts beat warm to help them. Aye, if we
could look within we would see vast nature stirred on their behalf, and
institutions shaken, until the truth they fight for triumphs, and they
pass, and a wake of glory ever widening behind them trails down the
ocean of the years.

Thus the warrior within us works, or, if we choose to phrase it so, it
is the action of the spiritual will. Shall we not, then, trust in it and
face the unknown, defiant and fearless of its dangers. Though we seem to
go alone to the high, the lonely, the pure, we need not despair. Let no
one bring to this task the mood of the martyr or of one who thinks he
sacrifices something. Yet let all who will come. Let them enter the
path, facing all things in life and death with a mood at once gay and
reverent, as beseems those who are immortal--who are children today, but
whose hands tomorrow may grasp the sceptre, sitting down with the Gods
as equals and companions. "What a man thinks, that he is: that is the
old secret." In this self-conception lies the secret of life, the way of
escape and return. We have imagined ourselves into littleness, darkness,
and feebleness. We must imagine ourselves into greatness. "If thou wilt
not equal thyself to God thou canst not understand God. The like is only
intelligible by the like." In some moment of more complete imagination
the thought-born may go forth and look on the ancient Beauty. So it was
in the mysteries long ago, and may well be today. The poor dead shadow
was laid to sleep, forgotten in its darkness, as the fiery power,
mounting from heart to head, went forth in radiance. Not then did it
rest, nor ought we. The dim worlds dropped behind it, the lights of
earth disappeared as it neared the heights of the immortals. There was
One seated on a throne, One dark and bright with ethereal glory. It
arose in greeting. The radiant figure laid its head against the breast
which grew suddenly golden, and Father and Son vanished in that which
has no place or name.

III.