“Are there any circumstances, then, under which it is proper to violate a promise?”
“Yes, sir,—when the promise is wrong.”
“Yes, that is a settled principle in morals, and one that commends itself to every honest mind. If I promise to do what is wrong, I am bound to break that promise. Now, apply this principle to your promise to Dick. Do you think that was a promise that ought to have been kept?”
“I know it wasn’t, now, but I didn’t know then.”
“But I want you to banish from your mind all thoughts of the fire, and what you have since learned about it. We will suppose that Dick’s story was true. You meet him unexpectedly in the woods. You know that he is a worthless fellow, a vagabond and a rascal. He pleads that he is in debt, and unable to pay, and wants you to promise to tell no one that you saw him. You know that if he is too poor to pay what he owes, it is because he is too lazy to work. You know, moreover, that he is a man who would be just as likely to tell you a lie as the truth. Now, was it right for you to make such a promise to such a man?”
“No, sir.”
“And, after it was made, was it right to keep it, and shield such a worthless fellow from the consequences of the life he is leading?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, then, why didn’t you find that out sooner?”
“I didn’t look at it in that light.”