The Gavelyte, November 1907

lXl l' Hl~ r;A \' f,~ L Y'l'P., ohe Price of a Vision. HY ll . .J. Htrna-IAl\l, ·w. Ha~t thou not yet ::;een a vision? Has contemplation not brought thee an ideal? Art thou not started on thy pilgrimage? What difficulty is tam– pering with thy soul to stay thy progress, or has time not @e ,n conducive to merlitation? Such were some of the questi ,ms that were pending in a turbu– lent mind. A convicting revelation being portrayed awakens a rlormant na– ture from primeval slumbers. The gray dawn of a new era is penetrating the soul, and the first morn of a new life is breaking. Tear down the veil that obscures thy vision from beholding the unknown riches of life! , µread wide the acred mantle that clothes thy ideal! Put on the armor, and girt on the sword! Mount thy charger, and go-, eek the unsearchable~ Philosophers· tell us that the history of civilization i the hi t ry of great men, and that the history of great men is the history of their ideal hours, actually realized . The world has rolled on for ages and as we peer into the annals of history and review the liveR of men, we find that the Al– mighty in his infinite wisdom ha hidden in the secret chambers of every heart an ideal, and what is it but the gift of the Creator when he fashionerl us in his own image'? A high ideal and a resolute determination to attain it are the moving factors of the world's progress. Without them we would have no great artists, poets, musician:-, sculptors, inventors or scientist, . People with high ideals are the advance guard of humanity, the toilers, who with bent back and sweating brow, cut the Rmooth path over which man marches forwa~·d from generation to generation. Powe II Buxton says; "The longer I live the more deeply am I convinced that that which makes the difference between one man and another, between the weak and the power– ful, the great and the imiignificant, is energy, invincible determination, a purpose once formed, and then victory or death." "To him at length strong anrl sure a the Atlantic Tides Rweeping up the shore, comes in– spiration with all its hiding, of power." Recall the story told of, ir Isaac ewton. When a C'hilcl. while play– ing in the garden a't eventide, he . u<lrlenly espied the moon radiating it: erim on glow through the heaven . Being infatuated with its radianee, the c-hilcl vainly cried to its mother, "T want the moon." Did he not in