p. 186 | Elasticity of Truth

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 4, 1858

Elasticity of Truth.

"Truth crushed to earth shall rise again, The eternal years of God are hers."

We have seen a piece of cork-wood floating upon the bosom of the deep. It is driven about by the waves, now dashed downward and for a time lost to the sight; but presently it rises to the surface, buoyant, independent, secure, as if sinking were impossible and destruction not to be feared. We have loved to watch a truth thrown out on the surface of society, on the tumultuous waves of ever restless mind. It is driven here and there, by those who hate it; at times it is overwhelmed with the waves of opposition, and in our want of faith we fear that it is lost forever; but presently it rises, vigorous, buoyant, elastic, indestructible, and rides over the crests of its enemies, easy, independent, eternal. We have some confidence in truth. At times we fear we have too much faith in its unaided power. But in this age of free investigation, we love to see the poor and puny efforts of truth's opposers dying almost before its friends have roused themselves for its defence.

Truth is the element in the moral world, that like the leaven in the meal, is to move and renovate the mass of mankind. There are two sorts of men that oppose it. The enemies of all reform, contented with things as they are, or preferring evil to good, would crush the truth as Voltaire would have crushed Christ. The various sects of ultra-reformers, the radicals of the age, oppose the simple truth as too slow an agent; they would rather have an effervescence, an explosion, a revolution, grand, sudden and performed on their patent, high-pressure principle, than wait for the gradual, certain, irresistible efficacy of the silent leaven that the great Teacher hid. Hence they oppose the truth, and all who cherish it as the woman cherished the leaven in her three measures.

But the friends of truth smile at the folly of their enemies, or mourn the waste of ink, paper, temper and talents on the part of wicked or deluded men. They cannot destroy truth, and prevent its final triumph. Over them it will ride to victory, or convert them to its love, and suffer them to sing its pæans.

So have we sometimes found a pleasing entertainment in watching the progress which truth makes in a world of enemies. Preach it, publish it, in all its native strength. Let the people have it just as God has given it in his word, in his providence, in the conscience of his moral creatures. Throw it out naked in the wide field of the world, and it will not die.

In politics, in literature, in religion, the fact is the same. The truth will be in the ascendant eventually, beyond peradventure. Good men often have fits of despondency. When error is rampant and truth falls in the streets, they are ready to feel that all is lost. But let not their hearts be troubled. It will come "all right" by and by. Defeat is a good discipline. It teaches that "eternal vigilance is the price" of any thing worth fighting for. But when we triumph we are apt to sleep on our laurels.

The conviction of the justness of these views is so strong that we are sometimes afraid lest we fail in zeal for the defence of truth. Having proclaimed what we believe is the truth, we are willing to let it take its own course. Having smitten an error once with the hammer and fire of truth, we are willing to let it writhe and die at leisure. We shrink from following up a blow, because we believe in the efficacy of truth to finish what it has begun. But this will not always suffice. Some, many errors are not to be killed in a minute. They die hard; and often rise again after being buried for years. They must be killed and buried over again, and the weapons that slew them must be hung up for use at their next resurrection. But truth will live, and going on "conquering and to conquer," will reign over the earth. It is written in heaven and its triumph is advancing.—Sel.