“Yes,” they said.
“Do you think we can get it? That it is a certain knowledge?”
They answered “Yes.”
“But,” said Ruth, “you would want it proved.”
I used the word “faith,” and the children rightly objected, because, they said, faith could be used to express the most superstitious of mythical beliefs. One must know.
“I mean self-evident knowledge,” I said. “If to-day the priests and the myths are dead, if we are to have a democratic religion, then each one of us must be a prophet. We here to-day, we seven, shall find the unanswerable truth. Shall we?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“How do we know that such truth is to be reached? We do know certain things in ourselves? We know the mystery is there? We know that which we call God?”
“Yes,” they said.
“Is there any other reason for believing that the truth can be known?”