On the Decay of the Art of Lying

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2010

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Mark Twain

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2010

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English

The Project Gutenberg EBook of On the Decay of the Art of Lying by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it,
give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.net
Title: On the Decay of the Art of Lying
Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
Release Date: September 15, 2004 [EBook #2572]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON THE DECAY OF THE ART OF LYING ***
ON THE DECAY OF THE ART OF LYING
by Mark Twain [Sameul Clemens]ESSAY, FOR DISCUSSION, READ AT A MEETING OF THE HISTORICAL AND
ANTIQUARIAN CLUB OF HARTFORD, AND OFFERED FOR THE THIRTY-
DOLLAR PRIZE.[*]
[*] Did not take the prize.
Observe, I do not mean to suggest that the custom of lying has suffered any decay or interruption—no, for the Lie, as a
Virtue, A Principle, is eternal; the Lie, as a recreation, a solace, a refuge in time of need, the fourth Grace, the tenth
Muse, man's best and surest friend, is immortal, and cannot perish from the earth while this club remains. My complaint
simply concerns the decay of the art of lying. No high-minded man, no man of right feeling, can contemplate the
lumbering and slovenly lying of the present day without grieving to see a noble art so prostituted. In this veteran presence
I naturally enter upon this theme with diffidence; it is like an old maid trying to teach nursery ...

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Publié par

thoev

Publié le

08 décembre 2010

Nombre de lectures

Langue

English

tThhee APrtr oojfe cLty iGnugt ebyn bMeragr kE TBwoaoikn o(fS aOmn uthele CDleecmaeyn so)fThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere atno cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under theterms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.netTitle: On the Decay of the Art of LyingAuthor: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)Release Date: September 15, 2004 [EBook #2572]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERGEBOOK ON THE DECAY OF THE ART OF LYING***ON THE DECAY OF

THE ART OF LY ybMra kTwain [maSue lmelC]sneING

ESSAY, FOR DISCUSSION,READ AT A MEETING OF THEAHINSTTIOQRUIACRAILA NA NCDLUB OFHARTFORD, AND OFFEREDFOR THE THIRTY-DOLLARPRIZE.[*][*] Did not take the prize.Observe, I do not mean to suggest that the customof lying has suffered any decay or interruption—no,for the Lie, as a Virtue, A Principle, is eternal; theLie, as a recreation, a solace, a refuge in time ofneed, the fourth Grace, the tenth Muse, man'sbest and surest friend, is immortal, and cannotperish from the earth while this club remains. Mycomplaint simply concerns the decay of the art oflying. No high-minded man, no man of right feeling,can contemplate the lumbering and slovenly lyingof the present day without grieving to see a nobleart so prostituted. In this veteran presence Inaturally enter upon this theme with diffidence; it islike an old maid trying to teach nursery matters tothe mothers in Israel. It would not become to me tocriticise you, gentlemen—who are nearly all myelders—and my superiors, in this thing—if I should

here and there seem to do it, I trust it will in mostcases be more in a spirit of admiration than fault-finding; indeed if this finest of the fine arts hadeverywhere received the attention, theencouragement, and conscientious practice anddevelopment which this club has devoted to it, Ishould not need to utter this lament, or shred asingle tear. I do not say this to flatter: I say it in aspirit of just and appreciative recognition. [It hadbeen my intention, at this point, to mention namesand to give illustrative specimens, but indicationsobservable about me admonished me to beware ofthe particulars and confine myself to generalities.]No fact is more firmly established than that lying isa necessity of our circumstances—the deductionthat it is then a Virtue goes without saying. Novirtue can reach its highest usefulness withoutcareful and diligent cultivation—therefore, it goeswithout saying that this one ought to be taught inthe public schools—even in the newspapers. Whatchance has the ignorant uncultivated liar againstthe educated expert? What chance have I againstMr. Per—against a lawyer? Judicious lying is whatthe world needs. I sometimes think it were evenbetter and safer not to lie at all than to lieinjudiciously. An awkward, unscientific lie is oftenas ineffectual as the truth.Now let us see what the philosophers say. Notethat venerable proverb: Children and fools alwaysspeak the truth. The deduction is plain —adultsand wise persons never speak it. Parkman, thehistorian, says, "The principle of truth may itself be

carried into an absurdity." In another place in thesame chapters he says, "The saying is old thattruth should not be spoken at all times; and thosewhom a sick conscience worries into habitualviolation of the maxim are imbeciles andnuisances." It is strong language, but true. None ofus could live with an habitual truth-teller; but thankgoodness none of us has to. An habitual truth-telleris simply an impossible creature; he does not exist;he never has existed. Of course there are peoplewho think they never lie, but it is not so—and thisignorance is one of the very things that shame ourso-called civilization. Everybody lies—every day;every hour; awake; asleep; in his dreams; in hisjoy; in his mourning; if he keeps his tongue still, hishands, his feet, his eyes, his attitude, will conveydeception—and purposely. Even in sermons—butthat is a platitude.In a far country where I once lived the ladies usedto go around paying calls, under the humane andkindly pretence of wanting to see each other; andwhen they returned home, they would cry out witha glad voice, saying, "We made sixteen calls andfound fourteen of them out" —not meaning thatthey found out anything important against thefourteen—no, that was only a colloquial phrase tosignify that they were not at home—and theirmanner of saying it expressed their livelysatisfaction in that fact. Now their pretence ofwanting to see the fourteen—and the other twowhom they had been less lucky with—was thatcommonest and mildest form of lying which issufficiently described as a deflection from the truth.

Is it justifiable? Most certainly. It is beautiful, it isnoble; for its object is, not to reap profit, but toconvey a pleasure to the sixteen. The iron-souledtruth-monger would plainly manifest, or even utterthe fact that he didn't want to see those people—and he would be an ass, and inflict totallyunnecessary pain. And next, those ladies in that farcountry—but never mind, they had a thousandpleasant ways of lying, that grew out of gentleimpulses, and were a credit to their intelligence andan honor to their hearts. Let the particulars go.The men in that far country were liars, every one.Their mere howdy-do was a lie, because they didn'tcare how you did, except they were undertakers.To the ordinary inquirer you lied in return; for youmade no conscientious diagnostic of your case, butanswered at random, and usually missed itconsiderably. You lied to the undertaker, and saidyour health was failing—a wholly commendable lie,since it cost you nothing and pleased the otherman. If a stranger called and interrupted you, yousaid with your hearty tongue, "I'm glad to see you,"and said with your heartier soul, "I wish you werewith the cannibals and it was dinner-time." Whenhe went, you said regretfully, "Must you go?" andfollowed it with a "Call again;" but you did no harm,for you did not deceive anybody nor inflict any hurt,whereas the truth would have made you bothunhappy.I think that all this courteous lying is a sweet andloving art, and should be cultivated. The highestperfection of politeness is only a beautiful edifice,

bgiulidlte, df rfoormm tsh eo fb cahsaer ittoa tblhee adnodm uen, soefl figsrha clyeifnugl .andWhat I bemoan is the growing prevalence of thebrutal truth. Let us do what we can to eradicate it.An injurious truth has no merit over an injurious lie.Neither should ever be uttered. The man whospeaks an injurious truth lest his soul be not savedif he do otherwise, should reflect that that sort of asoul is not strictly worth saving. The man who tellsa lie to help a poor devil out of trouble, is one ofwhom the angels doubtless say, "Lo, here is anheroic soul who casts his own welfare in jeopardyto succor his neighbor's; let us exalt thismagnanimous liar."An injurious lie is an uncommendable thing; and so,also, and in the same degree, is an injurious truth—a fact that is recognized by the law of libel.Among other common lies, we have the silent lie—the deception which one conveys by simplykeeping still and concealing the truth. Manyobstinate truth-mongers indulge in this dissipation,imagining that if they speak no lie, they lie not atall. In that far country where I once lived, there wasa lovely spirit, a lady whose impulses were alwayshigh and pure, and whose character answered tothem. One day I was there at dinner, andremarked, in a general way, that we are all liars.She was amazed, and said, "Not all?" It was before"Pinafore's" time so I did not make the responsewhich would naturally follow in our day, but franklysaid, "Yes, all—we are all liars. There are no

exceptions." She looked almost offended, "Why, doyou include me?" "Certainly," I said. "I think youeven rank as an expert." She said "Sh-'sh! thechildren!" So the subject was changed in deferenceto the children's presence, and we went on talkingabout other things. But as soon as the youngpeople were out of the way, the lady came warmlyback to the matter and said, "I have made a rule ofmy life to never tell a lie; and I have neverdeparted from it in a single instance." I said, "Idon't mean the least harm or disrespect, but reallyyou have been lying like smoke ever since I'vebeen sitting here. It has caused me a good deal ofpain, because I'm not used to it." She required ofme an instance—just a single instance. So I said—"Well, here is the unfilled duplicate of the blank,which the Oakland hospital people sent to you bythe hand of the sick-nurse when she came here tonurse your little nephew through his dangerousillness. This blank asks all manners of questions asto the conduct of that sick-nurse: 'Did she eversleep on her watch? Did she ever forget to give themedicine?' and so forth and so on. You are warnedto be very careful and explicit in your answers, forthe welfare of the service requires that the nursesbe promptly fined or otherwise punished forderelictions. You told me you were perfectlydelighted with this nurse —that she had a thousandperfections and only one fault: you found you nevercould depend on her wrapping Johnny up halfsufficiently while he waited in a chilly chair for herto rearrange the warm bed. You filled up theduplicate of this paper, and sent it back to the

hospital by the hand of the nurse. How did youanswer this question—'Was the nurse at any timeguilty of a negligence which was likely to result inthe patient's taking cold?' Come—everything isdecided by a bet here in California: ten dollars toten cents you lied when you answered thatquestion." She said, "I didn't; I left it blank!" "Justso—you have told a silent lie; you have left it to beinferred that you had no fault to find in that matter."She said, "Oh, was that a lie? And how could Imention her one single fault, and she is so good?—It would have been cruel." I said, "One oughtalways to lie, when one can do good by it; yourimpulse was right, but your judgment was crude;this comes of unintelligent practice. Now observethe results of this inexpert deflection of yours. Youknow Mr. Jones's Willie is lying very low withscarlet-fever; well, your recommendation was soenthusiastic that that girl is there nursing him, andthe worn-out family have all been trustingly soundasleep for the last fourteen hours, leaving theirdarling with full confidence in those fatal hands,because you, like young George Washington, havea reputa—However, if you are not going to haveanything to do, I will come around to-morrow andwe'll attend the funeral together, for, of course,you'll naturally feel a peculiar interest in Willie'scase—as personal a one, in fact, as theundertaker."tBhurto tuhgaht swhaes wnaost ianll lao csta.r rBiaefgoer ea nI dw amsa khianlfg- twhairytymiles an hour toward the Jones mansion to savewhat was left of Willie and tell all she knew about

the deadly nurse. All of which was unnecessary, asWillie wasn't sick; I had been lying myself. But thatsame day, all the same, she sent a line to thehospital which filled up the neglected blank, andstated the facts, too, in the squarest possiblemanner.Now, you see, this lady's fault was not in lying, butin lying injudiciously. She should have told thetruth, there, and made it up to the nurse with afraudulent compliment further along in the paper.She could have said, "In one respect this sick-nurse is perfection—when she is on the watch, shenever snores." Almost any little pleasant lie wouldhave taken the sting out of that troublesome butnecessary expression of the truth.Lying is universal—we all do it. Therefore, the wisething is for us diligently to train ourselves to liethoughtfully, judiciously; to lie with a good object,and not an evil one; to lie for others' advantage,and not our own; to lie healingly, charitably,humanely, not cruelly, hurtfully, maliciously; to liegracefully and graciously, not awkwardly andclumsily; to lie firmly, frankly, squarely, with headerect, not haltingly, tortuously, with pusillanimousmien, as being ashamed of our high calling. Thenshall we be rid of the rank and pestilent truth that isrotting the land; then shall we be great and goodand beautiful, and worthy dwellers in a world whereeven benign Nature habitually lies, except whenshe promises execrable weather. Then—But am Ibut a new and feeble student in this gracious art; Icannot instruct this club.

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