However credible and truthful an individual may be, he may be mistaken, and falsify in respect to facts and principles communicated; so that unless we have an absolute perception of the truth of that which is communicated, we can not affirm that we have the truth upon the subject in question. In holding communication with our neighbor, we find that A or B or C has always told the truth, and therefore when he tells us a particular event has taken place, we rely upon his word. Yet we know that he is liable to be mistaken, and to be under influences which may lead him to falsify, so that after all we can not know, upon the report of an individual, that a thing is true. It does not address that department of our being by which we are made as certain of it as we are that we exist. Hence we always make a difference between what we know and what we hear—between a report and our consciousness. One we say we _know_ to be true, and the other we say we _believe_ to be true. The difference is that between knowledge and belief. So if a Spirit should communicate to me ten thousand facts concerning my absent friends, every one of which I should find in every respect true on investigation; and if, again, that Spirit should come and communicate still other facts, I can not know that such other facts are true. The fact that that Spirit has before told the truth is not a positive proof that it will continue to do so. I can believe the statement to be true, but, nevertheless, my belief can not amount to positive knowledge. So that the questions often arise when Spirits communicate with external language, How are we to know that they tell the truth, How are we to know that they are the ones they purport to be? When a Spirit raps out on the table, or speaks or writes through a medium, that he is such a Spirit, and that such and such things are transpiring at some distant place, how are we to know that he tells the truth? We are not to know it, and can not know it. If we are to be accurately informed on that subject, that which is addressed to our understanding must come more interiorly into our consciousness than it can come through the ear, the eye, or the sense of feeling. It may be true; and give me time enough to investigate, and I can determine whether it be true or not. But if I am to act upon it without investigation, I can not know. I do not care if all the Spirits in Christendom testify to it, still I can not know; for that means of communication can not, in the nature of things, bring certainty—can not produce interior conviction in the mind.