Editorial July 19, 1919 Issue

Christ, our Life

William P. McKenzie

The clouds engoldened in the west, distant isles of the sea, hunting grounds on plains that are far off, have all been taken as figures in which to think of the place where the departed are found. The living speak of these happy hunting grounds, or blessed islands, or radiant heavens, and make legend and poem and song about what they imagine. Christianity has enriched thought with a true assurance of immortality, but even so, faith in many hearts is still vague, expressed as in the words of the poet:—

I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.

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