Utopia

For although I do not entirely distrust myself in this part (I wish I were such in talent and learning that I was not altogether destitute of memory), I still do not trust myself so much that I believe nothing could have escaped me. For even John Clement, my boy who was present with us, as you know—whom I do not allow to be absent from any conversation from which some fruit can be gained, since from this herb, which has begun to sprout with both Latin and Greek literature, I hope for an excellent harvest—has cast me into great doubt. For when, as I recall, Hythlodaeus narrated that the bridge of Amaurotum, by which the river Anydrus is spanned, is five hundred paces in length, my John says that two hundred should be subtracted, for the width of the river there contains no more than three hundred. I ask you to call the matter to memory. For if you agree with him, I too will assent and believe myself to have been mistaken. But if you do not recall it yourself, I will write what I myself seem to remember, as I have done. For just as I will take the greatest care that there is nothing false in the book, so if there is anything in doubt, I would rather tell a lie than tell a falsehood original: "potius mendacium dicam, quàm mentiar" More distinguishes between a factual error—an objective untruth—and the moral act of lying, which requires intent to deceive., as I would rather be good than clever. Note the theological distinction between lying and telling a falsehood.