justified in bearing false witness against our neighbour."

"But you beg the question," I said, "by saying 'FALSE witness.' I
quite agree that to discuss people in a malicious spirit, or in a
spirit of mockery, with the intention of exaggerating their faults
and making a grotesque picture of their foibles, is wrong. But two
just persons, such as you and I are, may surely talk over our
friends, in what Mr. Chadband called a spirit of love?" My
companion shook his head. "No," he said, "I think it is altogether
wrong. Our business is to see the good points of our friends, and
to be blind to their faults." "Well," I said, "then let us 'praise
him soft and low, call him worthiest to be loved,' like the people
in 'The Princess.' You shall make a panegyric, and I will say
'Hear, hear!'" "You are making a joke out of it," said my
companion, "and I shall stick to my principles--and you won't mind
my saying," he went on, "that I think your tendency is to criticise
people much too much. You are always discussing people's faults,
and I think it ends in your having a lower estimate of human nature
than is either kind or necessary. To-night, at dinner, it made me
quite melancholy to hear the way in which you spoke of several of
our best friends." "Not leaving Lancelot brave nor Galahad pure!" I
said; "in fact you think that I behaved like the ingenious demon in
the Acts, who always seems to me to have had a strong sense of
humour. It was the seven sons of one Sceva, a Jew, was it not, who
tried to exorcise an evil spirit? But he 'leapt upon them and
overcame them, so that they fled out of the house naked and
wounded.' You mean that I use my friends like that, strip off their
reputations, belabour them, and leave them without a rag of virtue
or honour?" My companion frowned, and said: "Yes; that is more or
less what I mean, though I think your illustration is needlessly