ch
truth, framed in such a staring lie? I have no doubt he tried to, for, I
believe, he is an excellent man; but what a place to put him, Sunday
after Sunday, with that painted cheat behind him, mocking all he says!

But lies are venerable as well as respectable. There are old, gray lies
that men half worship. The more toothless and drivelling, often the more
venerable. They have imposed their solemn emptiness on men for
generations. They have awed the souls of the fathers. They make the
children tremble. Men chant their praises, call them great names, and
tell each other the old scarecrows are better than any truths--they are
so ancient, so venerable, you see; and all the old women, male and
female, believe them.

Then, there are powerful lies. Think on the wars men have fought for
lies, on the millions of followers lies have had--how from their lofty
seats they govern empires, convulse continents, and drive patient
nations mad. Think on the money they have made, the mouths they have
filled, the backs they have warmed, the houses they have built, the
reputations they have created, the systems they have propped, the books
they have sent out, the presses they have kept busy. Think of the
Donation of Constantine, the Forged Decretals, the South Sea Scheme, the
Mississippi Bubble, of Wild Cat Banks, and Joyce Heth! He is certainly a
bold man who will rashly measure his strength with this mighty family.

As the world goes, the Father of Lies crowns himself and claims the
sovereignty. 'All these things will I give thee'--riches, honor, power.
It is the old Temptation of the Desert forever repeated. He lies when he
makes the offer. They were never his to give. But it's a lying world.
There are millions of us cheated. They take the old scoundrel at his
word.

You and I, reader, do not, let us hope. We agree in believing that,
under any circumstances, lies are not good; that, at all times, they are
unsafe, unwholesome, and in every way bad, very bad; that, on the whole,
it is not safe to trust them, or go with them. That is a good creed. It
appears to me the only creed, on this subject, that will stand.

For this is, after all, a very solemn sort of life. It has a very
serious ending. A great universe whirls away with its ebon-faced
mysteries piled from central caves to highest heavens--a universe, with
all its mysteries, of hardest reality and baldest truth. A man, looking
up to the cold, clear, unswerving stars, out yond