It would seem to be clear that the Bible, and also the other sacred books of the world, and the best moral sense of mankind everywhere, are united in deeming a lie incompatible with the idea of a holy God, and consistent only with the spirit of man's arch-enemy—the embodiment of all evil. Therefore he who, admitting this, would find a place in God's providential plan for a "lie of necessity" must begin with claiming that there are lies which are not lies. Hence it is of prime importance to define a lie clearly, and to distinguish it from allowable and proper concealments of truth.

A lie, in its stricter sense, is the affirming, by word or by action, of that which is not true, with a purpose of deceiving; or the denying, by word or by action, of that which is true, with a purpose of deceiving. But the suppressing or concealing of essential facts, from one who is entitled to know them, with a purpose of deceiving, may practically amount to a lie.

Obviously a lie may be by act, as really as by word; as when a man is asked to tell the right road, and he silently points in the wrong direction. Obviously, also, the intention or purpose of deceiving is in the essence of the lie; for if a man says that which is not true, supposing it to be true, he makes a misstatement, but he does not lie; or, again, if he speaks an untruth playfully where no deception is wrought or intended, as by saying, when the mercury is below zero, that it is "good summer weather," there is no lie in the patent untruth.

So far all are likely to be agreed; but when it comes to the question of that concealment which is in the realm of the lie, as distinct from right and proper concealment, there is more difficulty in making the lines of distinction clear to all minds. Yet those lines can be defined, and it is important that they should be.

A witness on the stand in a court of law is bound by his oath, or his affirmation, to tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," in the testimony that he gives in response to the questions asked of him. If, therefore, in the course of his testimony, he declares that he received five dollars for his share in a certain transaction, when in reality he received five hundred dollars, his concealment of the fact that he received a hundred times as much as he admits having received, is practically a lie, and is culpable as such. Any intentional concealment of essential facts in the matter at issue, in his answers to questions asked of him as a witness, is a lie in essence.

But a person who is not before a court of justice is not necessarily bound to tell all the facts involved to every person whom he addresses, or who desires to have him do so; and therefore, while a concealment of facts which ought to be disclosed may be equivalent to a lie, there is such a thing as the concealment of facts which is not only allowable, but which is an unmistakable duty. And to know when concealment is right, and when it is wrong, is to know when concealment partakes of the nature of a lie, and when it is a totally different matter.

Concealment, so far from being in itself a sin, is in itself right; it is only in its misuse that it becomes reprehensible in a given case. Concealment is a prime duty of man; as truly a duty as truth-speaking, or chastity, or honesty. God, who cannot lie to his creatures, conceals much from his creatures. "The secret things belong unto the Lord our God: but the things that are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever,"[1] says the author of Deuteronomy; and the whole course of God's revelation to man is in accordance with this announced principle of God's concealment of that which ought to be concealed. He who is himself the revelation of God says to his chosen disciples, even when he is speaking his latest words to them before his death: "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now;"[2] and he conceals what, as yet, it is better for them should remain concealed.

[Footnote 1: Deut. 29: 29.]

[Footnote 2: John 16:12.]

There is a profound meaning in the suggestion, in the Bible story of man's "fall," that, when man had come to the knowledge of good and evil, the first practical duty which he recognized as incumbent upon himself, was the duty of concealment;[1] and from that day to this that duty has been incumbent on him. Man has a duty to conceal his besetting impurities of thought and inclinations to sin; to conceal such of his doubts and fears as would dishearten others and weaken himself by their expression; to conceal his unkindnesses of spirit and his unjust prejudices of feeling; to conceal, in fact, whatever of his innermost personality is liable to work harm by its disclosure, and to a knowledge of which his fellows have no just claim. In the world as it is, there is more to be concealed than to be disclosed in every individual life; and concealment rather than disclosure is the rule of personal action.

[Footnote 1: Gen. 3:6, 7.]

Absolute and unrestricted frankness in social intercourse would be brutal. The speaking of the whole truth at all times and to everybody could have neither justification nor excuse between man and man. We have no right to tell our fellows all that we think of them, or fear for them, or suspect them of. We have no right to betray the confidences of those who trust us, or to disclose to all the fact that we have such confidences to conceal. We have no right to let it be generally known that there are such peculiar struggles within us as make our lives a ceaseless battle with temptations and fears and doubts. There is such a thing as an indecent exposure of personal opinions, and as a criminal disclosure of the treasures of the inner life.[1] How to conceal aright that which ought to be concealed, is one of the vital questions of upright living.

[Footnote 1: See 2 Kings 20: 12-19.]

The duty of right concealment stands over against the sin of lying. Whatever ought to be concealed, should be concealed, if concealment is a possibility without sinning. But the strongest desire for concealment can never justify a lie as a means of concealment; and concealment at the cost of a lie becomes a sin through the means employed for its securing. On the other hand, when disclosure is a duty, concealment is sinful, because it is made to stand in the way of the performance of a duty. Concealment is not in itself wrong, but it may become wrong through its misuse. Lying is in itself wrong, and it cannot be made right through any seeming advantage to be gained by it.

Concealment which is right in one instance may be wrong in another instance, the difference being in the relations of the two parties in the case. A man who has lost a leg or an eye may properly conceal from others generally the fact of his loss by any legitimate means of concealment. His defect is a purely personal matter. The public has no claim upon him for all the facts in the premises. He may have an artificial limb or an artificial eye, so constructed as to conceal his loss from the ordinary observer. There is nothing wrong in this. It is in the line of man's primal duty of concealment. But if a man thus disabled were applying for a life-insurance policy, or were an applicant for re-enlistment in the army, or were seeking employment where bodily wholeness is a requisite, it would be his duty to make known his defect; and the concealment of it from the parties interested would be in the realm of the lie.

So, again, if a man were proposing marriage, or were entering into confidential relations with a partner in business, or were seeking financial aid from a bank, he would have no right to conceal from the party interested many a fact which he could properly conceal from the public.

A man who would be justified in concealing from the general public his mental troubles, or his business embarrassments, or his spiritual perplexities, could not properly conceal the essential facts in the case from his chosen adviser in medicine, or in law, or in matters of religion. It is a man's duty to disclose the whole truth to him who has a right to know the whole truth. It is a man's right, and it may become his duty, to conceal a measure of the truth from one who is not entitled to know that portion of the truth, so far as he can properly make concealment. But as a lie is never justifiable, it is never a proper means of concealment; and if concealment be, in any case, a mode of lying, it is as bad as any other form of lying.

But concealment, even when it is of facts that others have no right to know, may cause others to be deceived, and deliberate deceit is one form of a lie. How, then, can concealment that is sure to result in deception be free from the sin that invariably attaches to a lie in any form, or of any nature whatsoever?

Concealment which is for the purpose of deception, is one thing; concealment which is only for the purpose of concealment, but which is sure to result in deception, is quite another thing. The one is not justifiable, the other may be. In the one case it is a man's purpose to deceive his fellow-man; in the other case it is simply his purpose to conceal what his fellow-man has no right to know, and that fellow-man receives a false impression, or deceives himself, in consequence.

We may, or we may not, be responsible for the obvious results of our action; and the moral measure of any action depends on the measure of our responsibility in the premises. A surgeon, who is engaged in an important and critical operation, is told that he is wanted elsewhere in a case of life and death. If he sees it to be his duty to continue where he is because he cannot safely leave this case at this time, he obviously is not responsible for results which come because of his absence from the side of the other sufferer. A man is by a river bank when a boy is sinking before his eyes. If the man were to reach out his arms to him, the boy might be saved. But the man makes no movement in the boy's behalf, and the boy drowns. It might seem as though that man were responsible for that boy's death; but when it is known that the man is at that moment occupied in saving the life of his own son, who is also struggling in the water, it will have to be admitted that the father is not responsible for the results of his inaction in another sphere than that which is for the moment the sphere of his imperative duty.

If a wife and mother has to choose between her loving ministry to her sick husband and to her sick child, and she chooses that which she sees to be the more important duty of the hour, she is not responsible for any results that follow from her inability to be in two places at the same time. A man with a limited income may know that ten families are in need of money, while he can give help to only two of them. Even though others starve while he is supplying food to all whom he can aid, he is not responsible for results that flow from his decision to limit his ministry to his means.

In all our daily life, our decision to do the one duty of the hour involves our refusal to do what is not our duty, and we have no responsibility for the results which come from such a refusal. So in the matter of the duty of concealment, if a man simply purposes the concealment from another of that which the other has no right to know, and does not specifically affirm by word or act that which is not true, nor deny by act or word that which is true, he is in no degree responsible for the self-deception by another concerning a point which is no proper concern of that other person.

Others are self-deceived with reference to us in many things, beyond our responsibility or knowledge. We may be considered weaker or stronger, wiser or more simple, younger or older, gladder or sadder, than we are; but for the self-deception on that point by the average observer we are not responsible. We may not even be aware of it. It is really no concern of ours—or of our neighbor's. It is merely an incident of human life as it is. We may have an aching tooth or an aching heart, and yet refrain from disclosing this fact in the expression of our face. In such a case we merely conceal what is our own possession from those who have no claim to know it. Even though they deceive themselves as to our condition in consequence of our looks, we are not responsible for their self-deception, because they are not possessed of all the facts, nor have they any right to them, nor yet to a fixed opinion in the case.

If a man were to have a patch put on his coat, he might properly have it put on the under side of the coat instead of the outer side, thus making what is called "a blind patch," for the purpose of concealing the defect in his garment. Even though this course might result in a false impression on the mind of the casual observer, the man would not be blameworthy, as he would be if he had pursued the same course with a purpose of deceiving a purchaser of the coat. So, again, in the case of a mender of bric-a-brac: it would be right for him to cement carefully the parts of a broken vase for the mere purpose of concealing its damaged condition from the ordinary eye, but not for the purpose of deceiving one who would be a purchaser.

A man whose city house is closed from the public in the summer season, because of his absence in the country, has a perfect right to come to that house for a single night, without opening the shutters and lighting up the rooms in intimation of his presence. He may even keep those shutters closed while his room is lighted, for the express purpose of concealing the fact of his presence there, and yet not be responsible for any false impression on the minds of passers-by, who think that the proprietor is still in the country, and that the city house is vacant. On the other hand, if the house be left lighted up all through the night, with the shutters open, while the inmates are asleep, for the very purpose of concealing from those outside the fact that no one in the house is awake and on guard, the proprietor is not responsible for any self-deception which results to those who have no right to know the facts in the case.

And so, again, in the matter of having a man's hat or coat on the rack in the front hall, while there are only women in the house, the sole purpose of the action may be the concealment of the real condition of affairs from those who have no claim to know the truth, and not the deliberate deception of any party in interest. In so far as the purpose is merely the concealment from others of the defenseless condition of the house the action is obviously a proper one, notwithstanding its liability to result in false impressions on the minds of those who have no right to an opinion in the case.

While a man would be justified in concealing, without falsehood, the fact of a bodily lack or infirmity on his part which concerned himself alone, he would not be justified in concealing the fact that he was sick of a contagious disease, or that his house was infected by a disease that might be given to a caller there. Nor would he be justified in concealing a defect in a horse or a cow in order to deceive a man into the purchase of that animal as a sound one, any more than he would be justified in slightly covering an opening in the ground before his house, so as to deceive a disagreeable visitor into stumbling into that hole.

It would be altogether proper for a man with a bald head to conceal his baldness from the general public by a well-constructed wig. It would likewise be proper for him to wear a wig in order to guard his shining pate against flies while at church in July, or against danger from pneumonia in January, even though wide-awake children in the neighboring pews deceived themselves into thinking that he had a fine head of natural hair. But if that man were to wear that wig for the purpose of deceiving a young woman, whom he wished to marry, as to his age and as to his freedom from bodily defects, it would be quite a different matter. Concealment for the mere purpose of concealment may be, not only justifiable, but a duty. Concealment for the purpose of deception is never justifiable.

It would seem that this is the principle on which God acts with reference to both the material and the moral universe. He conceals facts, with the result that many a man is self-deceived, in his ignorance, as to the size of the stars, and the cause of eclipses, and the processes of nature, and the consequences of conduct, in many an important particular. But man, and not God, is responsible for man's self-deception concerning points at which man can make no claim to a right to know all the truth.

It is true that this distinction is a delicate one, but it is a distinction none the less real on that account. A moral line, like a mathematical line, has length, but neither breadth nor thickness. And the line that separates a justifiable concealment which causes self-deception on the part of those who are not entitled to know the whole truth in the matter, and the deliberate concealment of truth for the specific purpose of deception, is a line that runs all the way up from the foundations to the summit of the universe. This line of distinction is vital to an understanding of the question of the duty of truth-speaking, and of the sin of lying.

An effort at right concealment may include truthful statements which are likely, or even sure, to result in false impressions on the mind of the one to whom they are addressed, and who in consequence deceives himself as to the facts, when the purpose of those statements is not the deception of the hearer. A husband may have had a serious misunderstanding with his wife that causes him pain of heart, so that his face gives sign of it as he comes out of the house in the morning. The difficulty which has given him such mental anxiety is one which he ought to conceal. He has no right to disclose it to others. Yet he has no right to speak an untruth for the purpose of concealing that which he ought to conceal.

It may be that the mental trouble has already deprived him of sleep, and has intensified his anxiety over a special business matter that awaits his attention down town, and that all this shows in his face. If so, these facts are secondary but very real causes of his troubled look, as he meets a neighbor on leaving his house, who says to him: "You look very much troubled this morning. What's the matter with you?" Now, if he were to say in reply, "Then my looks belie me; for I have no special trouble," he would say what was not true. But he might properly say, "I think it is very likely. I didn't sleep well last night, and I am very tired this morning. And I have work before me to-day that I am not easy about." Those statements being literally true, and being made for the purpose of concealing facts which his questioner has no right to know, their utterance is justifiable, regardless of the workings of the mind of the one who hears them. They are made in order to conceal what is back of them, not in order to deceive one who is entitled to know those primary facts.

If, again, a physician in attendance on a patient sees that there is cause for grave anxiety in the patient's condition, and deems it important to conceal his fears, so far as he can without untruthfulness, he may, in answer to direct questions from his patient, give truthful answers that are designed to conceal what he has a right to conceal, without his desiring to deceive his patient, and without his being responsible for any self-deception on his patient's part that results from their conversation. The patient may ask, "Doctor, am I very sick?" The doctor may answer truthfully, "Not so sick as you might be, by a good deal." He may give this answer with a cheerful look and tone, and it may result in calming the patient's fears.

If, however, the patient goes on to ask, "But, doctor, do you think I'm going to die?" the doctor may respond lightly, "Well, most of us will die sooner or later, and I suppose you are not to be exempt from the ordinary lot of mortals." "But," continues the patient, "do you think I am going to die of this disease?" Then the doctor can say, seriously and truthfully, "I'm sure I don't know. The future is concealed from me. You may live longer than I do. I certainly hope you are not going to die yet awhile, and I'm going to do all I can to prevent it." All this would be justifiable, and be within the limits of truthfulness. Concealment of the opinions of the physician as to the patient's chances of life, and not the specific deception of the patient, is the object of these answers.

In no event, however, would the physician be justified in telling a lie, any more than he would be in committing any other sin, as a means of good. He is necessarily limited by the limits of right, in the exercise of his professional skill, and in the choice of available means. He is in no wise responsible for the consequences of his refusal to go beyond those limits.

Concealment may be, or may not be, of the nature of deception. Concealment is not right when disclosure is a duty. Concealment of that which may properly be concealed is not in itself wrong. Efforts at concealment must, in order to be right, be kept within the limits of strict truthfulness of statement. Concealment for the purpose of deception is in the realm of the lie. Concealment for the mere purpose of concealment may be in the realm of positive duty—in the sight of God and for the sake of our fellows.

It is to be borne in mind that the definitions here given do not pivot on the specific illustrations proffered for their explanation. If, in any instance, the illustration seems inapt or imperfect, it may be thrown aside, and reference made to the definition itself. The definition represents the principle involved; the illustration is only a suggestion of the principle.