statement does correspond to the facts, or, at least, seems to do so, and yet a contemptible falsehood is implied. The instance of the truant boy is in point who entered the school-building five minutes before the close of the exercises, and on being asked at home whether he had been at school, promptly answered "Yes"; and so he had been for five minutes. But in this case the boy suppressed a part of the facts--and, moreover, the essential part--namely, that he had been absent from school for five hours and fifty-five minutes. Cases of mental reservation and the like fall under the same condemnation. The person who took an oath in court, using the words, "As truly as I stand on this stone," but who had previously filled his shoes with earth, suppressed the essential fact--viz., that he had filled his shoes with earth. Shall we then formulate the rule in this wise: Intend to make thy words correspond to the essential facts? But even this will not entirely satisfy. For there are cases, surely, in which we deliberately frame our words in such a way that they shall not correspond to the essential facts--for instance, if we should meet a murderer who should ask us in which direction his intended victim had fled, or in the case of an insane person intent on suicide, or of the sick in extreme danger, whom the communication of bad news would kill. How can we justify such a procedure? We can justify it on the ground that language as a means of communication is intended to further the rational purposes of human life, and not conversely are the rational purposes of life to be sacrificed to any merely formal principle of truth-telling. A person who, like the murderer, is about to use the fact conveyed to him by my words as a weapon with which to kill a fellow-being has no right to be put in possession of the fact. An insane person, who can not use the truthful communications of others except for irrational ends, is also outside the pale of those to whom such tools can properly be intrusted. And so are the sick, when so enfeebled that the shock of grief would destroy them. For the rational use of grief is to provoke in us a moral reaction, to rouse in us the strength to bear our heavy burdens, and, in bearing, to learn invaluable moral lessons. But those who are physically too weak to rally from the first shock of grief are unable to secure this result, and they must therefore be classed, for the time being, as persons not in a condition to make rational use of the facts of life. It is not from pain and suffering that we are permitted to shield them. Pain and suffering we must be willing both to endure and also to inflict upon those whom we love best, if necessary. Reason can and should triumph over pain. But when the reasoning faculty is impaired, or when the body is too weak to respond to the call of reason, the obligation of truth-_telling_ ceases. I am not unaware that this is a dangerous doctrine to teach.