known any one who deserted truth in trifles, that could be trusted in matters of importance." "There is no vice," says Dr. Wayland, "which, more easily than this, stupefies a man's conscience. He who tells lies frequently, will soon become an habitual liar; and an habitual liar will soon lose the power of distinguishing between the conceptions of his imagination, and the recollections of his memory. I have known a few persons who seemed to have arrived at this most deplorable moral condition. Let every one, therefore, beware of even the most distant approaches to this detestable vice."

II. VERACITY AS REGARDS PROMISES.

Whence the Obligation. The obligation to keep a promise, according to some writers, arises from the necessity of such a course to the well-being and even existence of society. Men act from expectations founded upon the assurances of others; and if no confidence could be reposed in such assurances, the varied intercourse of life could not go on, and society would be at an end.

This is doubtless true, and it furnishes a strong and in itself imperative reason for the fulfillment of promises. In the absence of any other and higher principle, this would of itself constitute an obligation to such a course.

But it is by no means true, that there is no higher principle applicable to the case. The law of expediency, however weighty, is not the only law, nor is it the ground of obligation in the present case. It is not a sufficient account of the matter. Aside from all considerations of this nature, from all results of evil to the community and to the individual, have I a moral right to awaken expectations which I do not intend to meet, and thus to disappoint and deceive my fellow-men? Is it not a species of

fraud, of dishonesty, which is in itself a crime, aside from its ruinous consequences to society? Does not the law of veracity, which makes it binding on me to speak the truth in my ordinary conversation, oblige me also to keep my promises?

In what sense to be interpreted. How is a promise to be interpreted? Shall it be as the promiser himself understands it? But he may intend to deceive. He may so frame his explanations as intentionally to convey a false idea to the party receiving the promise,-saying one thing and meaning another. Is he, in that case, bound only by his own meaning and intention? A man promises to pay me a certain sum of money for certain services, really intending to make payment in some worthless or depreciated currency. Is he bound, in that case, only to fulfill his original intention? This, of course, cannot be conceded.

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Shall we say, then, that the promise is to be interpreted as the party to whom the promise is made understands it? But here again there is a difficulty; for the receiver may, on his part, misunderstand the promise, and the real meaning of the promiser. In the case supposed, may understand the promise of my employer to be that I shall be paid in gold, while he really means and promises nothing of the sort. It would be manifestly unfair to hold the promiser bound to fulfill his promise, not according to its real meaning, but according to any construction that the whim or fancy of the other party chose to put upon it.

Obviously the only just rule is to take the words in their natural and proper signification, as meaning just what they would naturally be understood to mean by any one not specially concerned in the matter; in other words, as he who made the promise supposed that it would, and intended that it should, be understood. The promiser is bound to abide by this interpretation, and to

meet the expectations which he has thus formed, and which he intended to form. If he fails to do this, he is guilty of dishonesty.

In illustration of this principle, Paley refers to the historical incident of the treachery practised upon the garrison of Sebastia, who were promised that, if they would surrender, no blood should be shed; but who were, on surrendering, buried alive; -the promise being kept as to its letter, but broken in reality.

In what cases not binding.— As a general rule, there can be no doubt of the obligation to fulfill a promise once made. And yet there are exceptions to that rule. Not every promise is binding. What, then, are these exceptions?

Suppose, for example, I have promised to do what is in itself unlawful,- to commit a crime, to lie, to steal, to commit murder, in any way to violate the laws of society or the laws of God, - am I under obligation to keep such a promise? Unquestionably not. There can be no obligation on any man to do wrong. It is a contradiction of terms to say that a man ought to do what he ought not to do. In case the unlawfulness of the act contemplated was known at the time the promise was made, then the promise itself was a guilty one, and the sooner it is broken the better. The guilt of such promises, it has been well said, lies not in the breaking, but in the making. In case the unlawfulness was not known, but the thing promised was, at the time, supposed to be lawful, this supposed lawfulness was manifestly an implied condition of the promise; and a failure of the condition, implies a failure of the obligation. The promise is to be taken in its plain and obvious intent; and if there was no intention to do a wrong act, no promise to do a known wrong, of course

there is no obligation in the premises. This was the case with Herod, whose promise was to give his daughter whatever she might ask; but who, in making that promise, had no thought of her asking what she did. In taking the life of John the Baptist, under such circumstances, that ruler committed the crime of murder in order to avoid breaking a promise which, in reality, he never made; and which, if made, he had not only no obligation but no right to keep.

In like manner, a promise obtained by any misrepresentation or fraud on the part of the person receiving the promise, is not binding, when such fraud or misrepresentation is discovered, inasmuch as the condition on which the promise was made proves false. If a beggar, for instance, obtains my signature for a sum of money to relieve his apparent distress, and I afterwards discover that he is an impostor, and his distress counterfeit, my promise, which was made on the strength of that representation, is no longer morally binding.

Impossibilities.-Nor can a promise bind any man to perform what proves to be an impossibility. "We cannot be under obligation," says Dr. Wayland, "to do what is plainly out of our power." If, however, at the time the promise was made, we ourselves knew that it was an impossibility to perform the same, we are really guilty of fraud; since a promise is an implied belief that the thing promised is possible. Here, again, it is not the breaking, but the making of the promise that is criminal. No one has a right to promise what he does not believe can be done, much less what he knows cannot be. Thus, for example, the proprietor of a stage, steamboat, or other vehicle, has no right to promise to convey me to a certain place within a specified time, if he knows, or has any reason to believe, that, owing to the state of the roads, or state of the

weather, it will be impossible to reach the given point until after the time specified. The builder or contractor has no right to promise that the house which he is erecting shall be ready for occupancy at a given time, when in all probability it cannot be completed, as he very well knows, until some weeks, or even months, after that date. All such promises are dishonest.

I am well aware that nothing is more common than promises of just this nature; insomuch that it has come to be almost proverbial that no dependence is to be placed, in regard to such matters, upon the word of those who perhaps would scorn to be guilty of falsehood in other things. It is none the less a falsehood and a fraud, however, because of frequent occurrence. Nor is it any justification of such a course, to say that the thing promised was in its nature impossible of fulfillment. This we should have thought of before we promised. We had no right to promise an uncertainty, much less an impossibility.

Extorted Promises.-A promise may be extorted by violence-by an appeal to fear. Placed in imminent peril, I promise the highwayman or the assassin that, if he will spare my life, I will not betray him, or give information that shall lead to his arrest. Am I bound to keep that promise? This is a point upon which moralists have greatly differed, and which it is not easy to decide. On the one hand, it may be said, that were such promises in a few instances broken, confidence would no longer be reposed in them, and whoever should fall into the hands of the highwayman would be murdered as well as robbed. On the other hand, justice and the safety of the public demand the arrest of the criminal. My silence may cost many lives. I have no right to purchase my own safety at the expense of the lives and safety of others. And then, aside