DEBATABLE GROUND.

Is verbal truthfulness always the highest duty?

This is a good and clear debate. The two sides are ably and distinctly defended. Without answering in the abstract the question What is truth?' it is obvious that all agree that truth of character means trustworthiness, and that all alike set the highest value on it. The two views taken are

1st. That this trustworthiness consists in the absolute inviolate accuracy of the spoken word under all circumstances.

2nd. That it consists rather, in the first instance, in the absolute trustworthiness of a given promise, or of an inward sense of honour or obligation, even at the cost, in the last resort, of verbal accuracy.

There is a further division of opinion between those who consider equivocations and evasions, i.e. 'half-truths,' allowable so long as verbal accuracy is maintained, and those who regard 'words spoken with intent to deceive,' as equivalent to direct falsehood.

Now, whatever trials may arise from stress of feeling, or however we may regard it as allowable to be swayed by questions of expediency, the real moral difficulty only occurs when a previous trust would be betrayed by present speaking of the truth. John Inglesant, for instance, when he perjured himself to keep the King's secret, distinctly committed to his charge, was in a different situation from Jeanie Deans, when she spoke the truth rather than perjure herself to save her sister's life. The one had to settle a nice point of honour; the other to choose between honour and affection.

The subject seems to divide into three heads. Questions of social custom and courtesy, questions of feeling and affection, and questions of honour and obligation. With regard to the first head, which seems much to exercise many correspondents, many others have wisely advised cultivating feelings of Christian kindliness, so that its expression may not be insincere. And certainly Chelsea China thinks that if people cultivate a decent amount of patience and geniality, they may manage to find truthful phrases of courtesy somewhere between How delightful!' and 'What a bore!' Besides, as we advance in life, the sight of uncongenial company ceases to cause such violent affliction. Most people know the story told, Chelsea China thinks, of Sir Walter Scott, that when called upon to admire an ugly baby, he

used to say, 'Well! That is a baby!' and the anecdote of S. T. Coleridge, who, when a bad singer had sung after much pressing, said, 'The next time, Madam, you say that you cannot sing we shall know how to believe you.' But though these great men displayed both cleverness and courtesy, how far they saved their sincerity may be more doubtful.

With regard to established phrases, such as 'Not at home,' Chelsea China thinks that it depends upon how far they are established in the place and circle in which we move.

Chelsea China does not think that people who feel this difficulty are likely to fall into the kind of effusiveness which is insincere, and recommends thinking as little as possible about the condition of our social feelings. On the other hand, she gives it as her view, that if a direct question is asked, such as, 'Is this figure in drawing?' 'Did she sing in tune?' people should give their real opinion as civilly as possible.

Under the head of questions of feeling and affection, Chelsea China would class all the escapes in disguise, all the stock instances of hiding the King in a cupboard, all use of false names and false passports, all cases where the saving of life is the main idea. And in another way under this head would come the question of deceiving an invalid under doctor's orders where agitation might turn the scale. The question to be asked is whether, as the saving of life makes killing no murder, it also makes falsehood no lie.

It is obvious to common sense that no disguise could be maintained, no false name used without verbal as well as actual untruthfulness. Large exceptions to the rule seem, therefore, to have been made under this head. Can they be justified except by maintaining that the saving a life, unjustly threatened, and for which wo are in any way responsible, constitutes an obligation above that of verbal truthfulness?

Chelsea China wishes to point out, what she thinks all her correspondents have not perceived, that a honourable man might decide in these cases to risk the truth for truth's sake; while if he were placed in the situation of John Inglesant, or in any case where the keeping of his plighted word was in question, he would find himself face to face with a different problem altogether, which he might decide quite differently.

There is no question but that in real life secrets entrusted to us of vital consequence can sometimes only be guarded by words of direct untruth. The very suspicion of our knowledge might give the clue. The difficulty is very great, because if the moral sense of mankind once admits a doubt of the verbal accuracy of honourable men and women, their honour ceases to be the same safeguard. At the same time, the direct verbal untruth is often the only way to guard the actual knowledge, committed to the safeguard of honourable silence.

And how can helpful and sympathetic people refuse to share such dangerous knowledge, when they can help by action or advice?

Rudge, in her very interesting essay, says that regard for verbal truthfulness dates from the days of chivalry; but is not this rather true of regard to the plighted word? as when King John of France returned on failing to collect his ransom. This is not the same thing as being particular as to the absolute accuracy of ordinary statement. Gray Squirrel gives very useful advice on practical ways of avoiding dilemmas of the kind, especially as to discussing people's affairs with other people, and getting into the habit of unnecessarily showing letters, and also wisely says that after all such truth can only be told as the hearer can assimilate. She concludes with, The grand old proverb, "Let the truth be told, though the heavens fall." They have not fallen yet.'

Polly and F. Mc Lean chiefly discuss whether it is always necessary to tell everything, rather than whether truth may ever be concealed by a falsehood.

Eleanor dwells chiefly on the social difficulty of combining truth with politeness, and says very truly that we must cultivate the inward feelings that make truth polite, and politeness truth.

Benedict considers absolute truth in word and deed to be invariably the highest duty. Crescens and Dorigen take the same view. So does Gillian, who contrasts it, however, with spiritual truth, not with necessary concealment.

E. M. O. B. thinks that no claim of friendship or expediency can override that of absolute truthfulness.

Torfrida certainly does not think that verbal truthfulness is always the highest duty, and goes very far in defending the advisability of preventing mischief by a false statement, even when bound by no previous promise.

Popinjay. Some persons consider it a breach of verbal truthfulness to say 'not at home' to visitors unless one is out, to welcome people one is not glad to see. But by using these current phrases of society, one does not intend to deceive anybody. For example, in being civil to visitors one does not care about, it is not necessary to make them think one likes them, but simply to avoid annoying them by showing dislike. The stereotyped words used have from long custom lost all meaning save that of mere civility, unless specially enforced by look or action. Of course, it may be said, it is unfortunate that one is bound to use so many meaningless words, and that if any reform is to be attempted, some few must be willing to incur the odium of breaking a foolish custom; but for most of us this sort of reform had better begin from within by cultivating sympathy and charity which will make our courtesy more real. And if, on the one hand, we lament having to say what we do not fully mean, let us be thankful, on the other hand, that the inherited courtesy of generations of civilisation enables us to do so without deceiving others, and let us try to act up

to the meaning of these words instead of dwelling only on the fact that they are beyond what we mean, so that the very fact of having to be polite may help us to be sympathetic. But of course in these little matters care is needed-one may easily glide into petty deceptions. The Muffin Man.-It's certainly very difficult to be truthful in the present age. Shams are rampant on all sides; there is little real friendship and social intercourse in society. The richest and greatest are sought out, and people are always pretending to be what they are not, and so much pretence has now come to be accepted truth, that it is difficult to know where truth ends and falsehood commences. One thing is quite certain, it is far better to be truthful-if possible, even where offence must be given-than to be too polite; and though the world would be unbearable if every one said just what they felt, it would be much more bearable than it often is at present if people would be real and true, and themselves, and not a sham.

Happy are

X. Y. Z.-I feel that verbal truth is a most valuable habit, but yet that as an universal duty it is over-estimated by ordinary moralists. I cannot see that when Madame Grotius had put her husband in the chest, and accounted for its weight by saying, 'You know what great books my husband is in the habit of reading,' she was more truthful than if she had said, 'This chest is full of remarkably heavy books.' In each case the point was to convey an untrue impression to the mind of the officials, and whether this is done by words verbally true or verbally untrue, seems a very trivial question. The question then is, are we bound never under any circumstances to convey an untrue impression to the minds of others? those to whom the question has never arisen. But it appears to me that we have frequently to defend others, as Madame Grotius did, by producing an untrue impression in the mind of a third person. Secrets are confided to us which affect the happiness or the honour of the confider; if we are questioned about them by a third party, it appears to me to be the only true truthfulness to keep our word, even at the cost of the verbal truthfulness which we prize so highly. Anything short of this is practically revealing the secret confided to us. At the same time it is, or ought to be, a most painful duty to have to lie, no matter with what motives, and the doing so seems to me a matter for which, for the sake of the conscience of the world, we must be content to face obloquy, remembering that then the work of life is tried By a juster Judge than here.'

Spermologos. We all agree that truth in intention is a Christian's duty, as led by the Holy Spirit of truth. The real question is, whether falsehood is justifiable where concealment is necessary, and truth might betray a trust.

No one doubts that silence is permissible. Only an oath in a court of justice enforces the whole truth; and where the purpose is honest and necessary, I believe a semi-truth may rightly be used. As when

St. Athanasius, finding himself pursued down the Nile, turned back, and meeting the enemy, was interrogated where Athanasius had gone, and answered, 'He was going down the Nile a short time ago.' Such evasions are only justifiable in such cases. But I think that while such may be allowed, a half-truth covering a whole one in extreme cases; that still a positive falsehood is absolutely wrong, and that the predicament ought to be viewed as one of the temptations where we are promised a way to escape, and that the duty is to trust in God, and let Him find it. There is no instance of untruth in the New Testament, except the one so awfully punished, and though the sin there involved far more than the actual lie, still the teaching is of the absolute necessity of a truth far above that of the elder times.

Perhaps St. Paul's appeal in the Sanhedrim, 'I am a Pharisee,' etc., may be taken as an instance of the lawfulness of a half-truth, as long as it is unaccompanied by actual falsehood, and is with a right intention, such as to save life, to guard a trust, or to avoid doing mischief; but when it comes to positive utterance of a lie, I believe the rule is strict against the sin.

Chelsea China cannot decide the difficult question. But she would like to say that innocent, rash, and inexperienced people should beware of putting others into this great difficulty by pressing them with unauthorised questions. It is a difficulty which is not confined to rare and romantic situations.

She would remind her readers that further remarks on this debate are now invited, should any such occur to them.

SUBJECT FOR SEPTEMBER.

Does Idealism help or hinder daily life?

By Idealism is meant, not imagination, but a high and exacting standard of perfection.

Answers to be sent to Chelsea China, care of the Publisher, before October 1st.