Where should a man's reputation be safe from suspicion if not in the hands of his friend? It ought to be a principle of action with all men, never to judge a friend except out of his own mouth. 'There was a generous friend of mine once, who never would have judged me or any other man unheard.'* With the sublime intensity of one who felt the infinite value of private justice, has Schiller delineated this spirit in the interview between Octavio and his son Max Piccolomini. After a violent and visible struggle with his feelings--wrought upon by his father's endeavours to sow suspicions in his mind, and detach him from the service of his friend, Wallenstein--Max exclaims:-- * Edward to Mr. Peerybing. I will procure me light a shorter way. Farewell. Octavio. Where now? Max. (To the Duke.) If thou hast believed that I shall act A part in this thy play---- Thou hast miscalculated on me grievously. My way must be straight on. True with the tongue, False with the heart--I may not, cannot be: Nor can I suffer that a man should trust me-- As his friend trust me--and then lull my conscience With such low pleas as these:--"I ask him not-- He did it all at his own hazard--and My mouth has never lied to him."--No, no What a friend takes me for, that I must be. --I'll to the Duke; ere yet this day is ended Will I demand of him that he do save His good name from the world, and with one stride Break through and rend this fine-spun web of yours. He can, he will!--I still am his believer. Yet I'll not pledge myself, but that those letters May furnish you, perchance, with proofs against him. How far may not this Tertsky have proceeded-- What may not he himself too have permitted Himself to do, to snare the enemy, The laws of war excusing? Nothing, save His own mouth shall convict him--nothing less! And face to face will I go question him. Ay--this state-policy? O how I curse it! You will some time, with your state-policy, Compel him to the measure; it may happen Because ye are _determined_ that he is guilty, Guilty ye'll make him. All retreat cut off, You close up every outlet, hem him in Narrower and narrower, till at length ye force him-- Yes, ye,--ye force him in his desperation, To set fire to his prison. Father! father! That never can end well--it cannot--will not! Deem of it what thou wilt; but pardon me, That I must bear me on in my own way. All must remain pure betwixt him and me; And, ere the day-light dawns, it must be known Which I must lose--my father, or my friend.* * Shiller's Piccolomini, act 3, scene 9. Had Othello been thus honourable to Desdemona, he would never have murdered her. Incalculable is the evil we bring on ourselves and society, by supposing and surmising facts we ought resolutely to question. The motto of the garter-- Evil be to him who evil thinks, ought to be, Evil is to him who evil thinks.