fluences upon
character, promoting gentleness of spirit. The Quakers, as we know,
made a mighty stand against verbal insincerities, with one striking
exception,--the use of the word "Friend." They said and believed that
this word represented their attitude towards humanity, their spirit
of universal tolerance and brotherhood. But if to call oneself a
"Friend" is to emphasize one's amicable relations towards one's
neighbour, to call one's neighbour "Friend" is to imply that he
returns this affectionate regard, which is often an unwarranted
assumption. It is better and more logical to accept _all_ the polite
phraseology which facilitates intercourse, and contributes to the
sweetness of life. If we discarded the formal falsehoods which are
the currency of conversation, we should not be one step nearer the
vital things of truth.

For to be sincere with ourselves is better and harder than to be
painstakingly accurate with others. A man may be cruelly candid to
his associates, and a cowardly hypocrite to himself. He may handle
his friend harshly, and himself with velvet gloves. He may never tell
the fragment of a lie, and never think the whole truth. He may wound
the pride and hurt the feelings of all with whom he comes in contact,
and never give his own soul the benefit of one good knockdown blow.
The connection which has been established between rudeness and
probity on the one hand, and politeness and insincerity on the other,
is based upon an imperfect knowledge of human nature.

"So rugged was he that we thought him just,
So churlish was he that we deemed him true."

"It is better to hold back a truth," said Saint Francis de Sales,
"than to speak it ungraciously."

There are times doubtless when candour goes straight to its goal,
and courtesy misses the mark. Mr. John Stuart Mill was once asked
upon the hustings whether or not he had ever said that the English
working-classes were mostly liars. He answered shortly, "I
did!"--and the unexpected reply was greeted with loud applause. Mr.
Mill was wont to quote this incident as proof of the value which
Englishmen set upon plain speaking. They do prize it, and they prize
the courage which defies their bullying. But then the remark was,
after all, a generalization. We can bear hearing disagreeable truths
spoken to a crowd or to a congregation--causticity has always been
popular in preachers--because there are other heads than our own upon
which to fit the cap.

T