ed that, had such a difficulty happened to
him, his first act would have been to knock the man down, and to call
out for the police; and next, if he was worsted in the conflict, he
would not have given the ruffian the information he asked, at whatever
risk to himself. I think he would have let himself be killed first. I do
not think that he would have told a lie.

4. A secret is a more difficult case. Supposing something has been
confided to me in the strictest secrecy, which could not be revealed
without great disadvantage to another, what am I to do? If I am a
lawyer, I am protected by my profession. I have a right to treat with
extreme indignation any question which trenches on the inviolability of
my position; but, supposing I was driven up into a corner, I think I
should have a right to say an untruth, or that, under such
circumstances, a lie would be _material_, but it is almost an impossible
case, for the law would defend me. In like manner, as a priest, I should
think it lawful to speak as if I knew nothing of what passed in
confession. And I think in these cases, I do in fact possess that
guarantee, that I am not going by private judgment, which just now I
demanded; for society would bear me out, whether as a lawyer or as a
priest, in holding that I had a duty to my client or penitent, such,
that an untruth in the matter was not a lie. A common type of this
permissible denial, be it _material lie_ or _evasion_, is at the moment
supplied to me:--an artist asked a Prime Minister, who was sitting to
him, "What news, my Lord, from France?" He answered, "_I do not know_; I
have not read the Papers."

5. A more difficult question is, when to accept confidence has not been
a duty. Supposing a man wishes to keep the secret that he is the author
of a book, and he is plainly asked on the subject. Here I should ask the
previous question, whether any one has a right to publish what he dare
not avow. It requires to have traced the bearings and results of such a
principle, before being sure of it; but certainly, for myself, I am no
friend of strictly anonymous writing. Next, supposing another has
confided to you the secret of his authorship:--there are persons who
would have no scruple at all in giving a denial to impertinent questions
asked them on the subject. I have heard a great man in his day at
Oxford, warmly contend, as if he could not enter into any other view of
the matter, that, if he had been trusted by a friend