Theology in Education, III

WHAT CAN WE KNOW. 523

perceptions, the axioms of mathematics are above or beyond dispute. I can know that I am a conscious, reasoning being, that I can love and hate, experience joy and sorrow, anger and pity, and all

the various passions and feelings common to humanity. I know that I can reason on the products of sense perception, and, by the power of imagination, build up images more beautiful and grand than any I have ever experienced; but whether there is in the outer world a reality corresponding to the inner, I may not know. I know that flashes of light and streams of intelligence often come to my mind when the mind is oblivious to all outward impressions, the source of which is a mystery from a human standpoint. I have every reason to believe, from outside manifestations, that there are others who have these flashes of light more frequently and with greater intensity and power than I have; and, believing that something cannot be produced from nothing, I must attribute this light to some source of intelligence, and, as it seems to be unlimited, the source must be infinite. An unlimited source of intelligence must be a God in the highest imaginable sense, and in fact, must be far beyond the highest possible powers of human imagination. Then these flashes of light must be revelation, and they will grow stronger as the mind, by proper preparation, becomes more receptive of such influences. This class of knowledge can be weighed in the balance of reason, and be as readily recognized as truth as if revealed through the senses, and is far less liable to prove deceptive.

SOMETIME.

BY J. H. WARD.

In the horizon's verge, Where our far future's ever-setting sun Lights up the skies, Bright with all glory which the day hath won, An island lies.

524 IMPROVEMENT ERA

Far o'er the tossing sea, Beyond all storm and gloom that lies between. Its hills appear, Forever smiling in that light serene, Distinct and clear.

And ever thitherward, The wide- winged carrier-birds of promise fly; And, on the shore, The crested waves of hope are dancing high, Forevermore.

'Tis an enchanted isle.

That magic "sometime," in the sunset sea; Yet know we well. That in its valleys all things bright shall be, All good shall dwell.

"Sometime," we well believe. We shall have passed the trouble and the strife. And, in that isle, Enjoy the fullness of that summer life. And rest awhile.

Somehow, we know full well That 'tis an island, though its green hills hide The distant surge. And far beyond it, other phantoms glide. And isles emerge.

At "sometime" gaze we still! We can not help but gaze; still let us dream Far be the hour When it shall vanish in the sun's last beam. And smile no more.