that is deceitful.

Pausanias was but suspected

to betray Lysander in the battle; and the people would not rest till he was banished from among them. Deceit is a thief in the night, which steals upon us in the dark, when we think ourselves secure, and are not aware of either his way or his time; which makes us sleep as it were in armour, guarded about with bars against him, and with mastiffs to destroy him.

The next monster that calls up hate against us is cruelty, which ever is ushered on with severity and rigor. Man is a frail thing, and should he be put to expiate every offence with the extremity of punishment, he must have many lives, or else have his torments endless. We expect a father's pardon, and know the gods do not always punish to the height. He that hath not mercy to mitigate correction, excludes himself from favor when he fails. To be always strict and scrupulous is not conversation for man. It presently descends him into cruelty, which makes him as a wild beast shunned. He that cannot kill him, will avoid him if he can. It is not in nature that ever he should be loved. It is with cruelty as it is with choler; it is kindled with meeting its like; as flints that knock together, fire flies from both. No man can love his tormentor, or

him that would destroy his being. "Ferina ista rabies est, sanguine gaudere et vulneribus, et, abjecto homine, in silvestre animal transire." That rage is wholly bestial that smacks the lips with blood and bleeding wounds; and, casting off humanity, he passes into fierce and savage. Nero, Caligula, Vitellius, and many more, afford us sad examples of the end of cruelty ; and, above all, the unfortunate Andronicus, who met with more by the torrent of a popular hate, than, one would think, humanity could either suffer or invent. All things that men met with, were instruments of fury; and every boy and girl became an executioner.

To prevent the hate of others is, not to love ourselves too much. He that does so, becomes unrivalled in affection, and at last does love alone what all men else do hate. The best is, not to prefer our private before a generality, and rather to pass over trivials, than be angry at punctilios. He that minds his own with moderation, and but seldom intrudes on the concernments of others, shall surely find less cause to hate or to be hated; and may at last come to live like the Adonis of the sea, that Elian speaks of, in perfect tranquillity among all the rapacious fishes of the ocean.

OF TRUTH AND LYING.

I FIND to him that the tale is told, belief only makes the difference betwixt the truth and lies; for a lie believed is true, and truth uncredited a lie. But certainly there rests much in the hearer's judgment as well as in the teller's falsehood. It must be a probable lie that makes the judicious credulous; and the relator too must be of some reputation; otherwise strange stories detect some deformity in the mind. And in that, as in certain natural protervities in the body, they are seldom taking, but often beget a dislike. They may a little flourish a man's invention; but they much more doubtless will cry down his judgment, and discover a mind that floats and is unbalanced.

There is a generation of men, whose unweighed custom makes them clack out any thing their heedless fancy springs; that are so habited in falsehood that they can outlie an almanac, or, which is more, a chancery bill; and though they ought to have good memories, yet they lie so often, that they do at last not remember that they lie at all; that besides creating whole scenes of their own, they cannot relate any thing clear and candidly, but either

they must augment or diminish.

They falsify so long the science of arithmetic, that by their addition and subtraction they quite destroy the noble rule of fellowship. Like Samson's foxes, with their fire-brands they leave a flame in every field they pass through.

Falsehood, like dust cast in the eyes of justice, keeps her from seeing truth. It often creeps even to the bar at tribunals, and there perverteth judgment. A severe penalty were well inflicted, where the advocate should dare to obtrude an untruth. How can that judge

We

walk right, that is bemisted in his way? can never come at either peace or justice, if we be not lighted through the dark by truth; and peace never abides long in any region where truth is made an exile.

Certainly a liar, though never so plausible, is but a defective of the present tense; being once discovered, he is looked at, not only as inconsiderate, but dangerous. He is a monster in nature; for his heart and tongue are incongruous and dissentive, as if upon a human body the head of a dog were set on. The heart is much unpurified, which bubbles up such frothy vanities. And besides, he that often lies in discourse, when he needs not, will be sure to do it ever when he needs. So his interest being only inward to himself, all that

is without him is not set by. And doubtless humanity hath not a worse companion, than he that singularly loves himself. Think not to live long in peace if thou conversest with a lying man; nor canst thou think to live long in reputation. You can neither freely relate any thing after him, nor pass a right judgment upon any thing he speaks. If you believe him, you are deceived; if you do not believe him, he takes it as an affront. The way is either to pass him by, as not minded, or check him a little obliquely in his own way. As when one told Galba he had bought a lamprey in Sicily five foot long, he answered him, that was no wonder, for there they were so long, that the fishermen used them for ropes. A liar is the ball of contention, that can set even goddesses together by the ears.

I could sooner pardon some crimes that are capital, than this wild-fire in the tongue, that whips and scorches wheresoever it lights. It shows so much sulphur in the mind of the relator, that you will easily conclude it is the breath of hell. I wonder not that the ingenuous blood does boil so high at having the lie given; for surely a liar is both a coward and a traitor. He fears the face of man, and therefore sneaks behind the littleness of a lie to hide himself. A traitor he is; for God having