For though fierce travails, though wide seas and roaring gulfs
lie before us, is it not something if a Loadstar, in the eternal
sky, do once more disclose itself; an everlasting light, shining
through all cloud-tempests and roaring billows, ever as we emerge
from the trough of the sea: the blessed beacon, far off on the
edge of far horizons, towards which we are to steer incessantly
for life? Is it not something; O Heavens, is it not all? There
lies the Heroic Promised Land; under that Heaven's-light, my
brethren, bloom the Happy Isles,--there, O there! Thither
will we;

There dwells the great Achilles whom we knew.*

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* Tennyson's _Poems_ (Ulysses)
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There dwell all Heroes, and will dwell: thither, all ye heroic-
minded!--The Heaven's Loadstar once clearly in our eye, how will
each true man stand truly to _his_ work in the ship; how, with
undying hope, will all things be fronted, all be conquered. Nay,
with the ship's prow once turned in that direction, is not all,
as it were, already well? Sick wasting misery has become noble
manful effort with a goal in our eye. 'The choking Nightmare
chokes us no longer; for we _stir_ under it; the Nightmare has
already fled.'--

Certainly, could the present Editor instruct men how to know
Wisdom, Heroism, when they see it, that they might do reverence