"The days of our age are three score years and ten; and though men be so strong that they come to four score years, yet is their strength then but labor and sorrow, so soon it passeth away and we are gone." To many of us who travel along the level, but somewhat narrow pathway of scientific research, there doubtless comes the desire, to leave its beaten surface and to stray in those bordering fields where fact and fancy are so delightfully intermingled; where the skies are always blue, the sunshine bright, and the flowers fresh and blooming; where substance appears as shadow and shadow substance and our pet hobbies, viewed with our indulgent paternal eyes, seem beautiful and spirited thoroughbreds. In this land, we can appropriately ask, in the words of the cynical Roman Governor of Judea (freed from the rigid limitations which science imposes), "What is truth?" An
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MARSHALL LANGTON PRICE (1905) studied this question.