blurring his vision of the line between sincerity and insincerity, and numbing his conscience so that presently he will lie as a matter of course - and be universally distrusted. All of this is very clear, and sufficiently explains our ideal of veracity. But it is not enough for moralists to dwell upon the general necessity of truthfulness; the problems connected therewith arise when one asks, Are there not legitimate or even obligatory exceptions to the rule? Except for a few theorists who are more attracted by unity and simplicity than by the concrete complexities of life, practically all agree that there are occasions when lying is necessary, occasions when the confidence of men would not be destroyed by a lie because of the clearly exceptional nature of the case. Can we lay down any useful rules in the matter, indicating what types of cases require untruthfulness? What exceptions are allowable to the duty of truthfulness? Love undoubtedly sometimes requires, and oftener still excuses, a lie. (1) There are the trite cases where by misinformation a prospective murderer is misled and his potential victim saved;[Footnote: Cf. the somewhat similar situation in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables (Fantine, last chapter) where Soeur Simplice lies to Javert about Jean Valjean. Hugo applauds the lie perhaps too extravagantly ("O sainte fille! que ce mensonge vous soit compte dans le paradis!"); but few probably would condemn it. Another interesting case is that of a French girl in the days of the Commune. On her way to execution her fiance tried to interfere; but she, realizing that if he were known to be her lover he would likewise be executed, looked coldly upon him and said, "Sir, I never knew you!"] where a sick man, who would have less chance of recovery if he realized his dangerous condition, is cheered and carried over the critical point by loving deception; where a theater catches fire and a disastrous panic is averted by a statement to the audience that one of the actors has fallen ill, and the performance must be ended. In such cases it is foolish to talk of the possibility of evasion; it is direct misstatement that is necessary to prevent the great evil that knowledge, or even suspicion of the truth, might entail. Truthfulness under such circumstances, or even the taking of a chance by attempting to effect deception without literal untruth, would be brutal and inexcusable. As Saleeby puts it, "When the choice is between being a liar or a brute, only brutal people can tell the truth or hesitate to lie - and that right roundly.[Footnote: Ethics, p. 103.] In such cases the public, including the very people deceived (except the murderer, who deserves no consideration), applaud the lie; no lack of confidence is engendered. Other cases, less commonly discussed, are equally clear. A mother has just lost a son whom she has idealized and believed to be pure; his classmates know him to have been a rake. If she asks them about his character,