ands to be clothed with the garb of humane and graceful
fiction. "Prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?" He is
guilty, of course; but if he says so, it is a dead give-away. In this
case indeed the interests of Truth are one with those of Society, though
not of the prisoner; but often it is different. The basis of ethics, our
moralists say, is as largely utilitarian as it is ideal. If so, is there
any special sacredness about cold facts, that they should get up on end
and demand to be published everywhere continually? Truth ought to be
modest, and not claim all the observances and honors, seeing there are
so many other deities whom we poor mortals are no less bound to worship.
When Grotius' wife lied to the policeman about her husband's
whereabouts, the lie was an act of piety, whereas truthtelling would
have been murderous infidelity. If the minions of the law were after me,
would I thank Mabel and Jane and Herbert for telling them which way I
had gone? There is no more aggravated nuisance than he who insists on
exposing all he knows at all times and places--as I used to do before I
learned these tricks. Look at poor Hartman, ejecting his honest
backwoods thought without asking whether it was a wise and decent
offering to his small but highly select audience; and see what trouble
he has brought on himself and all of us thereby.

This outspokenness is often mere self-indulgence. Take me, for instance:
to this day, in spite of all the lessons I have had, it is far easier
and pleasanter for me to tell the truth than not. People of this
temperament must learn to put a check on nature. Self-indulgence is
bad, all agree, and self-denial useful and necessary. This is the way
virtues clash and collide. I say, confound such a world. What is a plain
man to do in it? As the poet sings, the _Summum Bonum_ belongs in
heaven, and you can't expect to get at it here, but must simply do the
best you can, which is generally not very good. And then, as another
poet puts it, very likely nobody will appreciate your efforts, but you
will get cuffed for them: we are punished for our purest deeds, and so
forth.--But this is trenching on Hartman's province. It is well that I
should think all this out now: I can talk it over with him before we get
to business. He will want sympathy with his notions about the depravity
of things in general, and that will smooth the way, and make him willing
to open up on the specific woe that lies nea