(1) First of all, there must be light. The nature of light we are not concerned with at

the moment. We simply note that it is essential to sight.

(2) Secondly, there must be an organ of vision, the eye. The light rays enter the lens

of the eye and are registered on the nerve-ends that form the retina. The impulses there

received are transmitted by the optic nerve to the brain, and thus, by some means still

unknown to man, these impulses are interpreted into colour, form and tone. There is no

effort in sight, and no exercise of the will. If the eye is open and there is no defect, it is

not possible to avoid receiving the impression.

(3) What we "see" is the combined effect of a multitude of rays of light that are

reflected from the surface of the object concerned.  If an object be completely

transparent, we see nothing of it. If it be translucent, we see a variety of shadows.

Moreover, not only is it true that we see only the external service of the visible universe,

but it is also clear that what we do see is inevitably incomplete. For example, no one has

ever seen a cube; all one can see at any given time is three of its six sides. No one has

ever seen a table; if the observer sees the top, he cannot at the same time see the

underside. If he sees the long side, he cannot see both ends at the same time. He can

never see more than one half of each of the four legs at a time. Moreover, if he looks at

the polished surface, he cannot see the annular rings, while the nature of the timber itself

is quite beyond his ken. We are reminded of the skit: "What is mind? no matter. What

is matter? never mind", for although it be a piece of nonsense, it is wise nonsense,

inasmuch as it exposes the inability we all feel to get beneath the surface to the hidden

substance. Further, no two people can "see" the same object at the same time, for the

rays of light that enter one's own eye, cannot be the same as the rays that enter another

eye. Only by analogy and the evidence that creation is rational, do we take it for granted

that we all see alike.

One of the limitations that is inseparable from a "visible" creation is a faulty or

restricted judgment. Truth cannot be seen or stated absolutely; it can only be relative,

and in the nature of a compromise. Perhaps an illustration will make this point clearer.

Every reader knows that, if he were to walk every step of the way along the track from

King's Cross to Edinburgh, and if he were to measure the width of the railway lines at

every step, the distance between them would always be the same. On the other hand, he

also knows that, if he gives a truthful account of what he actually sees while walking

along the line, he will say that he actually sees the lines drawing nearer and nearer

together until they appear to meet on the horizon. Moreover, if he draws what he knows

to be true, everyone will condemn his drawing as being untrue to appearance, while if a

railway were constructed as it appears, no engine could ever run on it.  We are

continually adjusting what we see and what we know, and such adjustments constitute

much of the experience of life. We could, of course, easily multiply examples of this.

We all know that the rim of a cup is a circle, and yet a cup seen in the ordinary way

shows that circular rim in the form an ellipse. Which is right? It all depends upon what

we mean by "right"--right in appearance, or right in actuality. By the very constitution