Early Cultural Writings

In the Society's Chambers

24-July-1922

Professor—Let me assure you, my friends, that the method of inquiry is alone responsible for all the error in the world. Mankind is in a hurry to know and prefers to catch at half-truths rather than wait for the full truth to dawn on him. Now a half-truth is a few degrees more mischievous than absolute error. It is the devil himself in the disguise of an angel.

The Practical Man—But surely, Professor, half-truths are the preparation for whole truths. And mankind must have something to go by. We are not all College Professors who can wait comfortably in our studies for Truth to call on us at her leisure. l have got to get to my place of business and, if motorcars have not been invented, I must use bike or tramcar.

Professor—There you are, my friend, in possession of a metaphor and under the delusion that you have got an argument. Half-truths are the greatest enemies of whole truths. Mankind gets besotted with the half-truth and when the whole truth happens in, it cries, "Here's this queer-looking idiot and scoundrel who has not been properly introduced to me, wanting to turn out my half-truth whom I know and who has helped me for centuries. Out with the cuckoo! A horse-whip for the bounder!" And out goes Truth, lucky if she is only expelled, not burned, garrotted, mobbed or censorshipped out of existence, and has to take her next chance five hundred years later.

Scientist—You are right, Professor. Everything should be proved, nothing admitted.

Professor—Excuse me, Scientist. Your tribe, once champions of progress, are now the stiffest and blindest opponents of new Truth going. Torquemada was a babe to you.

Scientist—Well, and what about the Mystic here, who wants to go back to Paracelsus and Santa Teresa?

Mystic—I should say rather, to keep unbroken the most important

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thread in the long and intricately woven cord of evolving knowledge.

Professor—My friends, I know nothing about mysticism and materialism. These are mere words to me. I know Truth only. If Truth is mystic, I cannot help it. If, on the other hand, Truth turn out to be a rank materialist, a follower of Huxley and Haeckel, who am I to insist on spiritualising her? Let us have Truth as she is and not insist on creating her in our own image.

The Practical Man—How is that to be done?

Professor—By inquiry, by dispassionate, disinterested, calm, judicious, leisurely inquiry. Let us consider everything, accept only when acceptance is thoroughly justified, reject only when we must, and for God's sake let us not rush violently and enthusiastically to premature conclusions!

The Practical Man, with levity—Why not establish a Society for the dispassionate discussion of everything discussable and the quiet questioning of everything questionable? It might be styled briefly S.D.D.D.Q.Q.Q. or, still better S.D³Q³, and, I believe, it would revolutionise knowledge.

Professor—I have always revered the Practical Man in spite of his gross and numerous limitations. Why not? Let us at least try.

Scientist, doubtfully—What would be the conditions of discussion?

Professor—Put it like this. We agree to consider no question closed, not even gravitation, nor the motion of the earth, nor the necessity and beneficence of the British Government.

All, in chorus—The Press Act, Professor, the Press Act! Section 124A! Section 121! We shall be transported, we shall get forfeited!

Professor, reluctantly, but obviously alarmed by the outcry—Well, well, we will reserve the question. There are plenty of others, there are plenty of others. To proceed. If the Mystic advances sound arguments to show that the devil habitually swallows the moon, even that we shall not lightly declare impossible. What do we know about the tastes of the devil, supposing he exists, or the eatability of the moon? I have never tasted it,

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nor has the Scientist. The Mystic and the devil may have.

Scientist, uneasily—Confound it, Professor!

Professor—No, I insist. Absolute tolerance, absolute openness of mind are essential to the success of the experiment. Whoever interrupts, whoever refuses to discuss an argument, whoever contradicts or says, Absurd! whoever substitutes assertion for reasoning, whoever loses his temper or allows his voice to rise to a higher key, whoever tries to make out that he has conquered in debate because he has appealed to a polysyllable such as hallucination, coincidence, subconscious cerebration, whoever quotes an authority for his opinion, will be instantly called to order by the Chairman and, if he repeats the offence, condemned to silence for the evening.

All are silent and gaze awe-stricken at the Professor.

The Practical Man—Hang it, Professor! Where will be the fun? I quite looked forward to the Scientist throwing chemicals at the Mystic and immediately withering into something infrahuman under the onslaught of the Mystic's mohanam, stambhanam and maranam. Don't interfere with human nature.

Professor—We will provide the fun, but let it be human, civilised fun. We must curb the excess of our original simian ancestors in our humour.

Mystic—You can't, Professor, and we shouldn't. It is a perpetual and valuable part of ananda, the joy of existence.

Scientist—It can't work. We are not gods or angels.

Professor—There you go making assumptions! How do you know we are not? Let us at least make the experiment. Obviously, with only the four of us, the circle will be incomplete. We must have other human specimens. A Jurist now, a Priest, a Historian, a Sanscritist, a Doctor, an Attorney, and a few others that may occur to me. I know where all these reasoning animals are to be found. Then, a live Extremist would be an acquisition. I know one. He is amiable, pleasing and warranted not to bite, though his views are fiery and his language, when excited, apt to be sulphurous.

The Practical Man—No use for him, if we are not to question the beneficence of the British Government.

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Professor—He will complete us. We must be a representative society. Besides, Extremism, I understand, has its positive aspects.

Scientist—Will it be safe?

Professor, coldly, haughtily & severely,—We are not cowards. (more mildly) I can guarantee that, though he talks sometimes like a bomb, he never made one. It is agreed, gentlemen. (rising enthusiastically) Today creates an epoch in the history of mankind; Truth lays the foundation-stone of her final temple.

Mystic—Professor, Professor, for God's sake, let us not rush violently and enthusiastically to premature conclusions!

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