trusting, they would fear one another; every time they were assured of anything they would doubt, and perhaps suspect a trap. If all men resorted to lying, they would soon begin to destroy each other, because it is an instinct of human nature to preserve one's self from the attack of enemies. The liar is the enemy of mankind. A great man was once asked: "Do the devils lie?" "No," was his answer; "for then even hell could no longer exist."

(1) Regard for Truthfulness forbids us to tell, as truth, what we know to be false. This is the worst form of lying. Only the most hardened will lie deliberately; no one who has not had long practice in this vice can tell a deliberate falsehood without despising himself. That can only be done when the Conscience is at last asleep, and when the character has become vicious.

(2) Another form of lying is telling, as truth, what we do not know to be true. People often assert things which they cannot possibly know to be true; for instance, the motives of other persons. There are also things which are only probable, and of which we cannot be certain. To state as absolutely true what we cannot know to be true is falsehood. Again, there are things which are merely matters of opinion, and upon which vastly different opinions may be held. If we would be strictly truthful, we must be careful to state as true only what can be proved to be facts.

(3) Another form of deceit is telling what may be true in fact, but telling it in such a way as to convey a false impression. This may be done by (a) exaggerating, or adding to, the facts; or (b) by withholding some important part of the facts. Many a character has been ruined by some enemy who wilfully overstated, or understated, facts of the highest importance to the person's reputation. Many a man has ruined his own character by allowing himself to acquire the habit of exaggeration.

(4) Untruthfulness shows itself in other ways. A lie may be acted as well as spoken. For example, when a boy allows himself to be praised for some action he never performed and does not give the praise to the right person, or at least disown it for himself, he acts a lie. The boy who tries to make his master believe him to be obedient and studious when he is not acts a lie. The boy who brings up as his own work an exercise which he has cribbed, or in which he has been assisted, acts a lie.

(5) Concealment of the truth may be an unspoken lie. There is an old Latin motto which says: "The suppression of the truth is the suggestion of an untruth." By keeping back a necessary part of the truth one may give a totally wrong impression of the facts, and this is just as much a lie as absolute misstatement.

(6) Trickery, or underhand dealing of any kind, is a kind of lying. A London merchant had business with another in a foreign country. The latter asked the former to send out certain packages of goods marked less than the real weight, so as to escape the customs duty. "I can't do it," said the English merchant. "Very well," said the foreigner, "if you won't, there are plenty of others who will, and I shall take my business away from you"—which he did, causing the other firm a heavy loss. A few years afterwards the foreigner wrote to the English merchant: "Enclosed is a draft for so much, which please put to my credit. I am sending my son to England to learn your way of business. There is nobody in whom I have such confidence as I have in you. Will you take him into your office and make him the same sort of man that you are yourself?"

(7) Truthfulness lays upon us the most solemn obligation to keep our promises, no matter how small may be the matter concerned. He who makes a promise, not intending to keep it, is guilty of gross deception. In making a promise it is our duty to express our intention in the plainest terms, and we must then consider ourselves under obligation to carry out that intention faithfully and fully. When Blücher was hastening with his army over bad roads to the help of Wellington at the battle of Waterloo, he encouraged his troops by calling out frequently, "Forward, children, forward." "It is impossible; it can't be done," was the answer. Again and again he urged them. "Children, we must get on; you may say it can't be done, but it must be done! I have promised my brother Wellington—promised, do you hear? You wouldn't have me break my word!"

Lord Chesterfield once said: "It is truth that makes the success of the gentleman." Those words should be taken to heart by every boy who wishes to honour truth. Clarendon said of Falkland, one of the noblest and purest of men, that he "was so severe an adorer of truth that he could as easily have given himself leave to steal as to dissemble." Shakespeare said:

No. IV. COURAGE

The opposite of Courage is Cowardice, and no greater insult can be offered a man than to call him a coward. Courage has always been looked upon as one of the greatest virtues. Men may be willing to forfeit purity, truth, and honour, but they cling to Courage to the very end. Courage is a quality that boys love and respect, because it is a manly virtue.

Physical Courage appeals most to the young. Nothing so excites their admiration as a feat of daring. Physical Courage is a splendid thing, a thing to be prized by every one. As a rule, it is something that every one may possess a good share of. Physical Courage depends very largely upon bodily vigour and strength of muscle. It is when we are nervous and feel our limbs to be weak that our Courage is small. The boy or man who exercises his muscles regularly is sure to store up a large amount of physical Courage—enough, at least, to develop its first stage—Fearlessness.

He who possesses a good constitution and a body whose strength he has tested by repeated trials is not apt to turn tail at small fears, as are the weak and delicate. He is able to present to difficulties, or, it may be, to danger, a steadfast mind and a calm exterior. It is this sort of Courage which makes the English soldier renowned in war. Had it not been for the dogged persistence of his soldiers in holding their ground, in spite of a hurricane of shot and shell, Wellington could never have held Napoleon at bay at Waterloo. But, while this Fearlessness is much to be admired, it is, after all, the least heroic form of Courage, because so much of it is purely physical.

Fighting, as a test of Courage, is greatly overestimated. Experienced soldiers tell us that it requires a good deal of Courage to go into battle for the first time. "You look pale," said one officer to another, as he came within range of the enemy's guns for the first time; "are you afraid?" "Yes," answered the other; "if you were half as much afraid, you would turn tail." But, with most soldiers, the feeling of fear soon wears off, and where there is no fear there is not much trial of Courage. The physical Courage that we all covet is that which leads a man to do what others dare not. In 1892, a young clergyman, on a visit to this country, was crossing the