As for his own silence, this must be considered in both directions. That he is not to blab official secrets is so obvious that it need not be spoken of. Such blabbing is so negligent and dishonorable that we must consider it intrinsically impossible. But it not infrequently happens that some indications are dropped or persuaded out of a criminal judge, generally out of one of the younger and more eager men. They mention only the event itself, and not a name, nor a place, nor a particular time, nor some even more intimate matter--there seems no harm done. And yet the most important points have often been blabbed of in just such a way. And what is worst of all, just because the speaker has not known the name nor anything else concrete, the issue may be diverted and enmesh some guiltless person. It is worth considering that the effort above mentioned is made only in the most interesting cases, that crimes especially move people to disgusting interest, due to the fact that there is a more varied approach to synthesis of a case when the same story is repeated several times or by various witnesses. For by such means extrapolations and combinations of the material are made possible. By way of warning, let me remind you of an ancient and much quoted anecdote, first brought to light by Boccaccio: A young and much loved abbé was teased by a bevy of ladies to narrate what had happened in the first confession he had experienced. After long hesitation the young fellow decided that it was no sin to relate the confessed sin if he suppressed the name of the confessor, and so he told the ladies that his first confession was of infidelity. A few minutes later a couple of tardy guests appeared,--a marquis and his charming wife. Both reproached the young priest for his infrequent visits at their home. The marquise exclaimed so that everybody heard, “It is not nice of you to neglect me, your first confessée.” This squib is very significant for our profession, for it is well known how, in the same way, “bare facts,” as “completely safe,” are carried further. The listener does not have to combine them; the facts combine themselves by means of others otherwise acquired, and finally the most important official matters, on the concealment of which much may perhaps have depended, become universally known. Official secrets have a general significance, and must therefore be guarded at all points and not merely in detail.