tific assurance exhibited to us at the beginning of the voyage. When the future mathematical prizeman learns his multiplication table, he knows even less of the end of the adventure that he thus begins than does the boy who unwillingly admits that his name is "N. or M." as he answers the catechist.
We are born to sail through unknown seas, born, as the Flemish saint said, vastissimum pelagus Divinitatis navigare, to navigate the great deep of God. But it is only faith that can lift up our hearts, when the shore is no more to be seen. And, this is strange. We all know what it is to see a familiar landscape, a familiar street in the unfamiliar light of dawn. The halls, the towers, and the walls are the same; and yet they are changed, sometimes, it appears, to an awful beauty. So when the great voyage
