TRUTH.

What is truth? “Truth,” says a standard logician, “signifies nothing

but the joining or separating of signs, as the things signified by

them do agree or disagree with one another;” that is, in making

propositions. These are divided into mental and verbal. Truth then

consists in ideal or verbal sentences, or, in other words, in a certain

arrangement of ideas and words. This view of the subject may answer

for a mere definition; but it is not satisfactory. We are disposed to

make truth consist in _things_, and not alone in their representatives.

It is the reality of things; using the term thing as it is, the most

universal of any in the language, including every object of sense or

conception, objects past, present, and future, objects terrestrial and

celestial, objects of all space and all duration, objects possible

and impossible; in a word, every-thing. There are propositions

concerning things; we have ideas of things, and things themselves

exist independently of both. The verbal statement, and the mental

apprehension, may accord with the reality of the thing, and be true, or

figuratively speaking, the truth. But can it be strictly said that the

truth consists in them, and them only?

But this train of remark avails little in resolving the momentously

practical question, What is truth? To give this a reply worthy of

itself, would lead us beyond our present design, and each reader must

be left to judge for himself.

“Truth is consistent with itself.” This is a common saying, and

regarded as axiomatic in its nature. It is not intended for the

identical proposition, Truth is truth; but that whatever is truth in

one subject, can in no way be rendered nugatory or false, by what is

truth in any other subject; and that one truth in the same subject is

not weakened or diminished by any other truth in the same subject.

Truth, as before intimated, may be considered in a three-fold aspect;

in itself; in regard to the verbal propositions embracing it; in

respect to our own conceptions of it.

In itself, in its own nature, it may be consistent with itself. But of

the many truths with which our acquaintance is imperfect, we cannot

judge whether they agree, or disagree, among themselves. In regard to

some others, of which we are better assured, it is difficult to say

that there is no contradiction.

In propositions there is certainly great discrepancy; owing partly to

the barrenness of language, and to the ambiguity of terms; also to

the different impressions which different authors of the statement

may possess, and which the same man may have at different times. The

propositions may be too brief, or too ample; in many ways they are

made to disagree one with another, and as they are the representatives

of truth, for all practical purposes truth itself is often found

inconsistent with itself.

We find our own conceptions of truth exceedingly contradictory; which

is attributable to the limited nature of our faculties, and narrow

extent of our observations. It is only the _ends_ of truths that we

see. Their remote extension, and multiplied relations, we cannot

ascertain. There _appears_ to be much disagreement. In theology the

doctrines of decrees and free agency are both true, but who can

reconcile them? This apparent inconsistency of truth is the origin of

scepticism, and is the occasion of many unhappy dissensions among men.

“Great is truth, and it will prevail.” The harmlessness of this

declaration has permitted it to pass unmolested. It certainly is a

pleasing prediction, and in the prospect which it unfolds, has inspired

many a languid heart with fresh vigor in the cause of truth. From the

implicit reliance which most men place in its verity, and from the wish

of all for its fulfillment, is manifested the confidence which each

reposes in his own integrity, and also a secret admiration of truth in

the minds of all. But the sentiment is perhaps more flattering to the

nobleness of our nature, than accordant with our constant experience.

That some truths will prevail, is certain. But in respect to

others--for instance, the thousand and one litigated points in history,

how shall the truth ever be ascertained. If the facts were noted at the

time of their occurrence, prejudice operated to distort them. If not

till years had elapsed, it was the effect of remoteness to obliterate,

or obscure them. Years and centuries are bearing us still farther from

the period of their transpiring, and how is it possible, that, without

a revelation from heaven, the truth shall ever be disclosed?

In metaphysics are many points equally indeterminable. Here a man’s

own mind is the field of observation, in every part of which the most

rigid, extensive, and patient scrutiny, and the most careful comparison

have been made by the most profound thinkers, and with the best lights;

but up to this time there are many points unillustrated, undecided.

Will they ever be made more plain? Who does not feel that there are

doubtful points in himself that he will never understand, at least this

side of the grave?

In the sciences, which suffer less from prejudice than most subjects of

investigation, the want of facts will prevent the discovery of truth on

many points; while, faster than old questions are settled, new subjects

of discussion are advanced.

With respect to the active duties of life, temperament will continue to

influence our views of truth, as it always has done.

Prejudice, which is the great barrier to the entrance of truth into

the mind, must, while man exists under his present mental and moral

constitution, retain the influence it now exerts.

There are many truths of which the highest order of human intellect can

only catch a fleeting glimpse, and the amount of knowledge is graduated

downwards, corresponding with the ability to grasp it. Many points lie

equally balanced between truth and falsehood.

We do not then seem to be sufficiently warranted in the opinion that

truth, i. e. all truth, will prevail.

“Men are more willing to embrace error than truth.” No one will admit

this imputation in his own case; but by an easy generalization, each

one applies it to all other men.

It may be doubted whether a love of truth or of error, for _their own

sake_, is a primary principle of our moral nature. A love of one’s own

happiness, or interest, or reputation, in a word, of one’s self, is

primary. Truth and error are regarded with complaisance or aversion,

accordingly as they oppose or favor the interests of men. If there were

but one being in the universe, it would be of little moment whether

he passed his existence in truth or falsehood. In society, he, whose

basis is falsehood, is derided by his fellows, and his interests are

endangered. As truth, on the whole, is most conducive to the interests

of men, it is most generally sought after. Few are willing to oppose a

fashionable error. There are portions of every man’s whole life, which

he passes in error, without being in the least concerned. Many minds

are so preoccupied, that they _cannot_ examine the evidence requisite

for the admission of a new truth. More are so prejudiced that they will

not. With many men a fear of results is stronger than love of truth,

and they are induced by a prospect of consequences, to abandon the

pursuit. An entire devotion to truth itself, to truth for its own sake,

is a rare sight, and one of high moral sublimity.