Deception, then, is sometimes allowable. But the rule for our guidance, with regard to our engagements with our fellow-creatures, is this:every thing which is not strictly agreeable with truth, and which is evidently opposed to reason and the spirit of Christianity, must be condemned. All representations, by words or signs, which are erroneous, and which are believed to be, or intended to be, injurious, are morally evil.

There are some cases in which a concealment of truth may be beneficial. Dr. Beattie observes, "To conceal what we know to be true may sometimes be innocent, and sometimes even laudable; as in the case of our being bound by oath or promise to do so." And even an oath or a promise may be broken under some circumstances; for the keeping of an oath is necessary only when truth may be founded on truth; that is, if the subject or matter on which the promise is founded be true, the promise itself must be truly performed; but it is doubtful whether, if the thing promised be erroneous and injurious, the promise itself should be binding. If a man be induced to make an agreement under a false representation, he will not be bound, perhaps, to found truth upon error, and to fulfil his part correctly, when the occasion of it was incorrect: and thus, if a man be forced to make a promise, tending to the injury of others or himself, and this promise be unjustly demanded, and unjust in its tendency, he may fail in the performance of it. Suppose a person were compelled to swear that he would, although contrary to law and justice, take the life of a fellow-creature, would

he not be justified in breaking his oath? Veracity is beneficial relatively, if it be agreeable with the Christian law, and consistent with the good of society; but not otherwise. Whenever the performance of a promise would violate some great precept of Christianity or civil government, the oath cannot be binding. For example, we are commanded, by human and divine laws, to do no murder; and these commands are superior to any contract made under the influence of bodily fear to commit that crime.

Although a man would be justified in throwing aside the trammels of iniquity, yet it is questionable whether he should, under any circumstances, bind himself to perform an improper action. It may, perhaps, be sinful to swear, although it may be a greater crime to comply with the iniquitous conditions of the oath. The question is, whether a person may consider himself so much under the especial patronage of Heaven, that, if he act sincerely and fearlessly, he will be preserved; or, whether he may be allowed to practise deception, to blind the minds of wicked men, for the purpose of preserving himself? This is not an age of miraculous interference; but it is a period in which the laws of God must be obeyed. Therefore, except in any singular and necessitous case, a man must act with sincerity; but he may, perhaps, adopt an ingenious method, occasionally, of avoiding injustice and cruelty. Socrates would not fly from his enemies when he might have done so; but many a man has effected his escape from the gloomy walls and massive doors of his dungeon,

by exchanging his clothing with a visiter: and in these cases, where the heroic friend would not suffer from the malice of the enemies, the act may be commendable. It is proper for a person, in all cases, to choose the lesser evil; bearing in mind, that a violation of a just law, or of the command of the Almighty, is one of the greatest crimes. And, with regard to a promise or engagement, he should not swear, positively, that he will perform what he has no intention of doing; for this may arise from a culpable timidity: but he may, in a cooler moment, and under different circumstances, alter his intentions, revoke an unjust contract, and act agreeably with the requirement of his conscience. Bishop Taylor says, "Let nothing make you break your promise, except it be unlawful or impossible."

Sometimes a promise, which is made on a trivial occasion, may slip from the memory - it may pass, with the chief part of our thoughts and experience, into the regions of forgetfulness; but this is not faulty, except in regard to the want of system and attention. A man may make a promise the fulfilment of which would be disadvantageous to himself; but if it would not cause him to injure his neighbours, to break the laws of the Almighty, or of his country, he would be bound to perform it. Every promise freely made, and lawful in its nature, is binding.

It is allowable, on some occasions, not only to make our performances differ from our promises, but to make circumstances appear different from their real character. I have already alluded to

deceptions produced by art. If robbers should break into a house while the proprietor of the premises was in bed, and he fancied that stillness and a pretended sleep would prove his only security, he might remain with his eyes closed, he might, if necessary, snore; and if any one said, "He sleeps," and quietness would be a confirmation of the statement, yet he might remain silent, and continue to deceive. A person may be misled by actions as well as by language. If I ask a man the way to a certain place, and he point in one direction, and I travel that way, but it lead me to some other place, I should be deceived. If the man directed me wrong intentionally, it was a lie. Now the crime in the man is equal, whether I believe him or not; but if I disbelieve him, and find the proper road, the disadvantage to me is less. If, however, the man says "Yes," instead of directing me with his finger, the lie is no greater. And as the intention to deceive, and the success in deceiving, are the principal points, it would matter but little if the person used twenty words instead of one; for whether a lie be spoken by a concise speaker, or by a verbose one, it adds nothing to the malignity of the falsehood.

A falsehood, then, in order to be sinful, must arise from an attempt to mislead; from a malignity of feeling; or if it prove injurious, unexpectedly, it must be condemned as thoughtless and ill-advised. But whether it proceed from actions or words, it is of little consequence, except that we generally attribute more criminality to the latter than the former; and if common consent has established

this rule, we are bound to comply: for the same reason, we pay more attention to an oath than a simple assertion. If, then, mankind depend more on an assertion than an action, and more on an oath than an assertion, those who break what is most depended on practise the greatest deception. There are degrees of falsehood as well as degrees of other vices; and those who mingle with society must conform to the general usages and opinions of mankind. We must attend to the relative as well as the abstract character of things.

In almost every country, an oath has been deemed a more important act than a mere assertion: it is recognised as such in the Scriptures. And although profane swearing is condemned, yet an appeal to some great truth, or some superior being, seems to be both solemn and legitimate. A man declares, on this occasion, that, in the presence of the Almighty, who will be his judge, he speaks the truth. The Jews used to say, on taking an oath, "Behold, I swear by the God of Israel, by him whose name is powerful and gracious, that I speak what is true." The Persians swear by the Almighty and Mahomet. They swear also by the holy tomb of the Shah Besade at Casbin, and by the holy cities of Mecca and Medina. The Abari, a nation of Huns, used to take an oath by uplifting the sword. The Sarmatians, and many other people of Europe and the East, adopted a similar method. But whatever was the custom, a degree of solemnity was connected with it; and it was a test for a man of little merit, who would not hesitate to make a