ut indications observable about me admonished
me to beware of particulars and confine myself to generalities.]

No fact is more firmly established than that lying is a necessity of
our circumstances--the deduction that it is then a Virtue goes without
saying. No virtue can reach its highest usefulness without careful and
diligent cultivation--therefore, it goes without saying that this one
ought to be taught in the public schools--at the fireside--even in the
newspapers. What chance has the ignorant, uncultivated liar against the
educated expert? What chance have I against Mr. Per-- against a lawyer?
Judicious lying is what the world needs. I sometimes think it were
even better and safer not to lie at all than to lie injudiciously. An
awkward, unscientific lie is often as ineffectual as the truth.

Now let us see what the philosophers say. Note that venerable
proverb: Children and fools always speak the truth. The deduction is
plain--adults and wise persons never speak it. Parkman, the historian,
says, "The principle of truth may itself be carried into an absurdity."
In another place in the same chapter he says, "The saying is old
that truth should not be spoken at all times; and those whom a sick
conscience worries into habitual violation of the maxim are imbeciles
and nuisances." It is strong language, but true. None of us could live
with an habitual truth-teller; but, thank goodness, none of us has to.
An habitual truth-teller is simply an impossible creature; he does not
exist; he never has existed. Of course there are people who think they
never lie, but it is not so--and this ignorance is one of the very
things that shame our so-called civilization. Everybody lies--every day;
every hour; awake; asleep; in his dreams; in his joy; in his mourning;
if he keeps his tongue still, his hands, his feet, his eyes, his
attitude, will convey deception--and purposely. Even in sermons--but
that is a platitude.

In a far country where I once lived the ladies used to go around paying
calls, under the humane and kindly pretense of wanting to see each
other; and when they returned home, they would cry out with a glad
voice, saying, "We made sixteen calls and found fourteen of them
out"--not meaning that they found out anything against the fourteen--no,
that was only a colloquial phrase to signify that they were not at
home--and their manner of saying it--expressed their lively satisfaction
in that fact. Now, their pretense of wa