As a matter of fact, everything we possess or know of to-day, is the visible outcome of a once imagined possibility. It has been very grandly said that “the Universe itself was once a dream in the mind of God.” So may we say that every scientific law, every canon of beauty--every great discovery--every splendid accomplishment was once a dream in the mind of man. All the religions of the world, with their deep, beautiful, grand or terrific symbols of life, death and immortality, have had their origin in the instinctive effort of the Soul to detach itself from the mere earthly, and to imagine something better. In the early days, this strong aspiration of humanity towards a greater and more lasting good than its own immediate interest, was displayed in the loftiest and purest conceptions of art. The thoughts of the “old-world” period are written in well-nigh indelible characters. The colossal architecture of the temples of ancient Egypt--and that marvellous imaginative creation, the Sphinx, with its immutable face of mingled scorn and pity--the beautiful classic forms of old Greece and Rome--these are all visible evidences of spiritual aspiration and endeavour,--moreover, they are the expression of a broad, reposeful strength,--a dignified consciousness of power. The glorious poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures--the swing and rush of Homer’s Iliad,--the stately simplicity and profundity of Plato,--these also belong to what we know of the youth of the world. And they are still a part of the world’s most precious possessions. We, in our day, can do nothing so great. We have neither the imagination to conceive such work, nor the calm force necessary to execute it. The artists of a former time laboured with sustained and tireless, yet tranquil energy; we can only produce imitations of the greater models with a vast amount of spasmodic hurry and clamour. So, perchance, we shall leave to future generations little more than an echo of “much ado about nothing.” For, truly, we live at present under a veritable scourge of mere noise. No king, no statesman, no general, no thinker, no writer, is allowed to follow the course of his duty or work without the shrieking comments of all sorts and conditions of uninstructed and misguided persons, and under such circumstances it is well to remember the strong lines of our last great poet Laureate:-- Step by step we gain’d a freedom, known to Europe, known to all,-- Step by step we rose to greatness,--through the _tonguesters_ we may fall!