ssassin, to defeat or divert him from his purpose.... It is
upon this principle that, by the laws of war, it is allowable
to deceive an enemy by feints, false colours, spies, false
intelligence.... Many people indulge, in serious discourse, a habit
of fiction or exaggeration.... So long as ... their narratives,
though false, are _inoffensive_, it may seem a superstitious regard
to truth to censure them _merely for truth's sake_." Then he goes on
to mention reasons _against_ such a practice, adding, "I have seldom
known any one who deserted truth in trifles that could be trusted in
matters of importance."--Works, vol. iv. p. 123.

Dr. Johnson, who, if any one, has the reputation of being a sturdy
moralist, thus speaks:

"We talked," says Boswell, "of the casuistical question--whether it
was allowable at any time to depart from _truth_." Johnson. "The
general rule is, that truth should never be violated; because it is
of the utmost importance to the comfort of life, that we should have
a full security by mutual faith; and occasional inconveniences should
be willingly suffered, that we may preserve it. There must, however,
be some exceptions. If, for instance, a murderer should ask you which
way a man is gone, you may tell him what is not true, because you
are under a previous obligation not to betray a man to a murderer."
Boswell. "Supposing the person who wrote Junius were asked whether he
was the author, might he deny it?" Johnson. "I don't know what to say
to this. If you were _sure_ that he wrote Junius, would you, if he
denied it, think as well of him afterwards? Yet it may be urged, that
what a man has no right to ask, you may refuse to communicate; and
there is no other effectual mode of preserving a secret, and an
important secret, the discovery of which may be very hurtful to you,
but a flat denial; for if you are silent, or hesitate, or evade,
it will be held equivalent to a confession. But stay, sir; here is
another case. Supposing the author had told me confidentially that he
had written Junius, and I were asked if he had, I should hold myself
at liberty to deny it, as being under a previous promise, express or
implied, to conceal it. Now what I ought to do for the author, may I
not do for myself? But I deny the lawfulness of telling a lie to a
sick man for fear of alarming him. You have no business with
consequences; you are to tell the truth. Besides, you are not sure
what effect your telling him that he i