A liar begins with making falsehood appear like truth, and ends

Hear the solemn warning of William Shenstone, who declared: “A liar begins with making falsehood appear like truth, and ends with making truth itself appear like falsehood.” This is no light saying, but a torch lifted high in the darkness of human deceit. For the way of the liar is subtle at first, but terrible in its end. He begins with small deceits, cloaking them in garments of plausibility, twisting words until falsehood shines with the likeness of truth. Yet as he persists, the world itself becomes inverted in his eyes and in the eyes of those who believe him—truth is treated as falsehood, and falsehood enthroned as truth. This is the corruption not merely of speech, but of the very soul.

The ancients knew this danger well. Plato warned of the sophists, who clothed lies in the appearance of wisdom, selling arguments not for truth’s sake but for victory. To the careless ear, their words sounded fair, but within was rot and poison. Shenstone echoes this ancient fear: that once falsehood is dressed to look like truth, the boundaries between the real and the unreal begin to dissolve. And when this confusion spreads, men lose not only trust in others but also trust in their own ability to discern. A society thus bewitched begins to call evil good, and good evil.

Consider the tragedy of Nazi Germany. At first, lies were small, crafted carefully to resemble truth: that the nation’s decline had simple enemies, that dignity could be restored by scapegoating the few. These falsehoods were wrapped in patriotic language, making them appear righteous and noble. Yet in time, these lies grew monstrous, until even the plainest truths—that all humans share equal worth, that murder is evil—were twisted to seem false. By the end, truth itself was treated as betrayal, and falsehood as loyalty. Here we see Shenstone’s warning fulfilled with catastrophic force.

But this pattern is not only in empires; it dwells also in the human heart. The liar begins by deceiving others, but soon becomes captive of his own deception. In striving so long to make falsehood seem true, he begins to believe his own lies. His vision grows clouded until he cannot recognize the truth even when it stands before him. This is the most dreadful fate—not only to deceive others, but to be deceived by oneself, to wander forever in shadows believing them to be light.

And yet, truth, though buried, does not die. It may be hidden, mocked, or treated as falsehood, but it endures, waiting to be uncovered by those with eyes unclouded. History itself serves as the great judge, unveiling lies and restoring truth. Thus, the wise must not despair even in an age where falsehood is crowned. They must cling to truth with tenacity, knowing that in time it will rise again, brighter for having endured darkness.

What then is the lesson for us? First, to guard against the beginning of lies. For once the path is taken, it does not end where it began—it leads from falsehood disguised as truth to truth condemned as falsehood. Do not allow yourself to be a weaver of deceit, no matter how small or convenient. Second, to train your eyes to see through disguises. Question words that sound too smooth, examine claims that flatter, and measure them not by appearance but by conscience and reality. In this way you strengthen your spirit against deception.

Finally, O child of tomorrow, remember this: truth is the foundation of trust, and trust is the foundation of all human bonds. When truth is corrupted, families crumble, friendships rot, and nations fall. Do not be the one who begins the weaving of lies, nor the one who accepts them unchallenged. Be the one who clings to truth, even when it seems bitter, even when it costs you. For in truth lies freedom, and in falsehood lies only chains. Choose truth, speak truth, live truth—for in the end, it is the only thing that cannot be destroyed.