The Only Hope of the World
By Editor
Our poems in this issue are partly voices from the past, utterances from men whose hearts beat responsive to the principles of liberty. Miss Coolbrith's and Mr. Morris' poems are in the same strain. All are powerful appeals for right judgment and true liberty. Mr. Edgerton's beautiful poem, "Hope On, Toil On," speaks hopefully, leaving you somewhat in doubt as to the ground of his hope. If that ground be some semi-social and political scheme, the hope will turn to despair. If "the rose-white dawn," "the yet unrisen day," "the better days," "the nearing goal," "the portals, open swinging," are of men's dreams in this present world, they will vanish as dreams; but if they are to be ushered in by Jesus Christ our Lord at His second coming, they are eternal. "The hosts of toil" will arise; God has said it in His Word; but the selfish heart of toil will found no perfect State, no country free from want and wo, no more than we see at the present. Man may smite down wrong. Babylon may punish Egypt and Tyre, but she is Babylon still. The only hope of the world is our Lord Jesus Christ. He reigns now in individual hearts; He will people His eternal kingdom with such ones.