Article May 11, 1907 Issue

"WHAT IS TRUTH?"

Charlotte (Mich.) Leader

This is a question of considerable meaning. It has been asked by all generations of the past, back as far as history, tradition, or mythology reach, and no answer yet written on the trestle-board of matter except that of the sphinx—silence. When "truth" is finally perceived by average humanity it will probably be found there, in the silence, and not in the boorish gibberish and exploitation of the "Eureka" crowd, who in every Sunday newspaper or monthly doggerel flaunt the remnant of some speck of matter aloft with the cry, "I have found it."

It is already learned, by all students and searchers, that what promises to lead closest to that most desired haven, toward which all intelligent people are faced, is not in matter. We have to deal, unfortunately perhaps, almost constantly with what we call matter, but we know that real truth is not there any more than in the rainbow or the mirage, for under the skilful hand of the chemist and modern chemical equipment we find that matter is easily resolved into shifting, changing, unsubstantial chaos. It does not need the metaphysician or philosopher to tell us that the real seeker for truth must look elsewhere than in the domain of what we call matter. In fact, to dismiss all senseless arguing and petifogging. and step directly into the heart of the problem, there is but one direction to look with any promise for truth and what is most to be desired by the human soul, and that is into the realm of the unseen, into the deep silence of being. And we are compelled to go there more or less and sooner or later, in spite of ourselves.

Every one of us, driven from the unseen realms of life, would be no more than chunks of clay. Everything of value to the world, as also to its individual parts, comes from what cannot be seen, felt, tasted, smelled, or heard by the physical senses. All ambition, all love and affection existing between the parent and child or between friends, all hope, all pleasure, all that can possibly be real in life, comes from the unseen. The manifestations of what we know as matter can only be used for convenience, as the hoe to the farmer, the boat to the mariner, or vegetation for food. None of us would underrate the usefulness of matter in our present evolutionary pilgrimage, but neither can we afford to embrace it, wallow in it, and call it all. Every hour of our lives gives us experiences that would stamp such a proposition as a gross and unfortunate error.

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