Sincerity. Sincerity is nothing other than the expression of the truth. Honest and sincere actions lead the wicked astray and lead them away from the means by which they reach their ends, because ordinarily the wicked believe that nothing can be done without artifice.

Sincerity is an openness of the heart. It is found in very few people, for what one ordinarily sees is merely a cunning dissimulation to attract the trust of others.

If our souls were pure spirits, detached from their bodily ties, one would see to the depths of another. Thoughts would be visible; we would communicate them without the aid of speech, and it would therefore not be necessary to make a precept of sincerity. It is to make up, as needed, for this commerce of thought, of which our bodies limit the freedom, that nature has given us the talent to articulate through sound. Language is a medium through which our souls interact; it is as guilty if it serves them unfaithfully as is a false interpreter who betrays his office.

Natural law mandates that truth reign in all discourse, not excluding cases in which our sincerity could cost us our lives. To lie is to offend virtue, therefore it is also to wound honor. As we generally agree that honor is preferable to life; we must therefore say that sincerity is as well.

Do not believe that this sentiment is extreme: it is more widely shared than one might think. It is a nearly universal practice in all court cases, to make the accused affirm, before he is interrogated, that he will speak the truth, even when he is being tried for a capital crime. We honor him in assuming that even if he is guilty of the crime of which he is accused, he can still be decent enough to testify against himself at the risk of losing his life and his dignity. Would we suppose this if we judged that natural law exempted him from doing so?

The ethics of most men, insofar as sincerity is concerned, are not rigid. We have few qualms about betraying the truth if it is in our interest, or if it can exculpate us or pardon another. We call these lies officious —we use them to make and keep peace, to oblige someone, to prevent an accident of some kind. Miserable pretexts that a single word can shatter: It is never permitted to use bad means for a good end. Good intention justifies ambivalent actions but it does not authorize decidedly bad ones.