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East of the Shadows

Page 58

"It is very difficult to know what is the truth," said Philippa slowly; "the truth as regards our own actions, I mean. We cannot always judge of the truth of them ourselves."

"It is very difficult. And after all, though we sit here glibly talking of it, what is truth? It is not easy to define. Dictionaries will tell you that it is the agreement of our notions with the reality of things, but that is hardly an answer, for what is the reality of things? Who can arrive at it? Ten people may witness some occurrence--a fire, an accident, what you will--and yet, if questioned, not more than two at most will give the same account of the happening. Their versions will probably be entirely contradictory in detail, and yet they may each be under the impression that they are speaking the truth, giving each an honest description of their notion of the reality of things. Of course this is a very different matter to deliberately stating what you know to be untrue; and yet, do you know, I can easily imagine circumstances where even that would be the only possible course. You have probably heard the story of the soldier who was court-martialed for cowardice on the field of battle. I think it was in the Peninsular War, but I have forgotten. Anyway, the man was accused of having hidden himself in some safe place until all danger was over. He turned to his officer after hotly denying the accusation, and said, 'You know I was in the thick of it, sir. Why, I shouted to you and you answered me. You must remember.' Well, the officer had absolutely no recollection of it, and yet it was quite possible that the man's story was true and that he had forgotten. Think of the excitement of the moment. Memory plays strange tricks at such a time. Everything depended on his answer, for the man would undoubtedly be shot if he could not prove his innocence, and the officer lied unhesitatingly. 'I remember perfectly,' he said. 'You were there.' What would you have done?"

"I should have done the same," said Philippa quickly.

"So should I," agreed Isabella. "I am absolutely certain of it. But I don't know that that proves the morality of it. Ours is a woman's point of view, and I am not at all sure that there isn't some foundation for the statement that a woman's idea of honour is easier than a man's. It is a humiliating reflection. And yet, notwithstanding that, I still feel that if such a thing as a human life depended on my lying I should lie. And I don't think I should have any fear of the slate of the recording angel either. I am afraid you will be shocked at these unorthodox opinions, and consider me a dangerous acquaintance, but I can assure you that I am generally considered a truthful person Fortunately these stern tests to my veracity do not occur every day."

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