Truthfulness is the foundation of character. It is the basis of true manhood. Its spirit pervades the closest relation and highest intercourse, its law holds the planets in their course, and it is the presiding principle of every true and noble life. A greater tribute could not be paid to anyone than “his word is as good as his bond.” No more worthy epitaph or eloquent remark could be uttered of Colonel Huchurin, than when a friend, attesting the simplicity and nobility of him, said: “He never professed the thing he intended not.” No eulogy can surpass Xenocrates of Petrarch, who, standing before an ecclesiastical tribunal where an oath had been required of others, said, “As for you, Petrarch, your word is sufficient.”
An important conference was being held in the Executive Mansion in Washington. A caller had sent in his card, but either the caller was unwelcome or the time was quite unsuitable for his admission. One of the persons turned to a servant and said, “Tell the person who sent up the card that the President is not in.” “No,” said General Grant, “tell him no such thing.” Then, turning to his friends, he remarked: “I don’t lie myself, and I don’t want any of my servants to lie for me.”
A “Mental Photograph” book was once presented to Charles Kingsley in which to write. One question was “What is your bête noire?” “A lie,” he penned. In dedicating her delightful biography of him his wife wrote:
“To the beloved memory
of
A righteous man
Who loved God and truth above all things.
A man of untarnished honor—
Loyal and chivalrous—gentle and strong—
Modest and humble—tender and true—