searched but the truth, and your life will pass in absolute in
action. Since it is only the appearance of truth, not truth itself,
which leads me hither or thither, I shall confer benefits upon the
man who apparently will be grateful.

XXXIV. "Many circumstances," argues he, "may arise which may enable
a bad man to steal into the place of a good one, or may cause a
good man to be disliked as though he were a bad one; for
appearances, to which we trust, are deceptive." Who denies it? Yet
I can find nothing else by which to guide my opinion. I must follow
these tracks in my search after truth, for I have none more
trustworthy than these; I will take pains to weigh the value of
these with all possible care, and will not hastily give my assent
to them. For instance, in a battle, it may happen that my hand may
be deceived by some mistake into turning my weapon against my
comrade, and sparing my enemy as though he were on my side; but
this will not often take place, and will not take place through any
fault of mine, for my object is to strike the enemy, and defend my
countryman. If I know a man to be ungrateful, I shall not bestow a
benefit upon him. But the man has passed himself off as a good man
by some trick, and has imposed upon me. Well, this is not at all
the fault of the giver, who gave under the impression that his
friend was grateful. "Suppose," asks he, "that you were to promise
to bestow a benefit, and afterwards were to learn that your man was
ungrateful, would you bestow it or not? If you do, you do wrong
knowingly, for you give to one to whom you ought not; if you
refuse, you do wrong likewise, for you do not give to him to whom
you promised to give. This case upsets your consistency, and that
proud assurance of yours that the wise man never regrets his
actions, or amends what he has done, or alters his plans." The wise