“He did, mother; he said he was sure he hung it up, when, after all, he dropped it in the water; and we agreed to leave it to you if that was not telling a lie.”
“Did you know, Caleb, when you said you hung it up, that you had really left it in the water?”
“No, grandmother,” said Caleb, very earnestly; “I really thought I had hung it up.”
“Then it was not telling a lie, Dwight. A lie is told with an intention to deceive. To make it a lie it is necessary that the person who says a thing, must know distinctly at the time that he says it, that it is not true; and he must say it with the particular intention to deceive. Now, Caleb did not do this.”
“Well, mother,” said Dwight, “I am sure you have told us a good many times that we must never say any thing unless we are sure it is true.”
“So I have. I admit that Caleb did wrong in saying so positively that he had hung his whip up, when he did not know certainly that he had. But this does not prove that it was telling a lie. You know there are a great many other faults besides telling lies; and this is one of them.”
“What do you call it, mother?” said David.
“I don't know,” said she, hesitating. “It is a very common fault,—asserting a thing positively, when you do not know whether it is true or not. But if you think it is true, even if you have no proper grounds for thinking so, and are entirely mistaken, it is not telling a lie.”
“In fact,” she continued, “I once knew a case where one boy was justly punished for falsehood when what he said was true; and another was rewarded for his truth, when what he said was false.”
“Why, mother?” said Dwight and David together, with great surprise.