self.  “I know only one person whom I could count on not to indulge herself in these conventional falsehoods, and she has never been able, so far as I know, to keep a friend.  The habit of literal truth-telling, frankly, is self-indulgence of the worst.”  In some circles, at least, the phrase “not at home” is generally understood as a politer form of “not seeing visitors.”  It must be admitted, however, that there is danger in these courteous untruths.  If the visitor does not understand the “not at home” in the conventional sense, she may be deeply hurt and lose her trust in her friend, if she by chance discovers her to have been in the house at the time.  Nor is it always wise to truckle to sensibilities that may be foolish; blunt truthfulness, even if unpalatable, is often in the end the best service.  There are cases where untruthfulness is shirking one’s duty, just as there are cases where truthfulness is mean or brutal.

To tell what we honestly think of a person, or his work, may mean to discourage him and invite demoralization or failure; to attribute virtues or powers to him which he actually does not possess may be to foster those virtues or powers in him.  Or the reverse may be the case; his individual need may be of frank criticism or rebuke.  The concrete decision can only be reached by following the guidance of the law of kindness, the Apostle’s counsel of “speaking truth in love.”

(3) In this connection it may be well to go further and emphasize the fact that there are many cases, not necessitating a lie, where the truth is not to be thrust at people.  “Friend, though thy soul should burn thee, yet be still.  Thoughts were not meant for strife, nor tongues for swords, He that sees clear is gentlest of his words, And that’s not truth that hath the heart to kill.”  There are usually pleasant enough things that one can say — though one may be hard put to it; and if the truth must be told, it may often be sugarcoated.  President Hadley, when a young man, was receiving instructions for a delicate negotiation.  “If the issue is forced upon us,” he interrupted, “there is, I think, nothing to do but to tell the truth.”  “Even then,” replied his chief, “not butt end foremost.”  Cases of religious disbelief will occur to every one.  While all hypocrisy and truckling to the majority opinion is ignoble, the blunt announcement of disbelief may do much more harm than good.  Truth is not the only ideal; men live by their beliefs, and one who cannot accept a doctrine which is precious and inspiring to others should think twice before helping to destroy it.  Not only may he, after all, be in the wrong, or but half right; even if he is wholly right, it may not be wise to thrust his truth upon those whom it may discourage or morally paralyze. [Footnote:  On the ethics of outspokenness in religious matters, see H. Sidgwick, Practical Ethics, chap.  VI; J. S. Mill, Inaugural Address at St. Andrews; Matthew Arnold, Prefaces to Literature and Dogma and God and