_Lying._
LI. What can be more obnoxious to urbanity than lying? What man of
understanding is there whom it does not offend? Or to whom is it not
disgusting? and how can deceit cease to be injurious? All the utility,
all the delight that can be obtained by conversation, is destroyed by a
lie. If he, with whom I converse, tells me lies, of what service will
the information I receive from him be to me? for if I do not believe
him, all he says will only tend to irritate me; and if I do, to fill me
with errors. If I am not assured he tells me truth, what satisfaction
can I have in attending to him? For his conversation, so far from
affording me entertainment or instruction, will set my mind on the
rack, and cause me to waver, and continue in a painful state of doubt,
and also perplex me, to find out reasons for believing or disbelieving
what he has told me.
LII. Conversation is a species of traffic, in which mankind exchange
informations and ideas with each other; and what better name can we
give to him, than that of a cheat and a deceiver, who in this commerce,
passes false informations and ideas for true ones; and ought we not
also to treat him as a prevaricator, who is unworthy of being admitted
into human society?
LIII. I have always been amazed at, and have always condemned, the
indulgence and toleration that lying people find in the world. I have
already exclaimed against this practice in my Essay on the Impurity
of Lying, and must beg leave to refer the reader thither for a more
full discussion of the point; but it has occurred to me since I wrote
that Essay, that it is probable, this toleration may have arisen
from the great extension of the vice of lying; and that the number
of those who find themselves interested in this indulgence, is much
greater, than that of those who find themselves injured by it; and that
perhaps they tolerate lying in one another, because the toleration is
necessary and useful to both parties. If the sincere part of the world
consists of but few people, they cannot, without being guilty of great
rashness, attempt to wage war against the many; but they at least may
remonstrate, and with temper complain of the disgust they receive,
from the indulgence that is shewn to lying. I ingenuously confess for
myself, that I look upon him as a man of but little sincerity, who
hears a lie with much seeming composure, and without expressing any
signs of his dislike of it; although I must confess at the time I say
this, that a frank manifestation of our dislike of the practice, cannot
so easily be shewn, unless it is to our equals or our inferiors.
LIV. There is a species of lie, that passes in the world for humour
and pleasantry, which I would punish as a crime. Whenever there
happens to be a person in company who is noted for being an exceeding
credulous man, it frequently happens, that some one or other tells a
very incredible story, for the sake of exposing the easy faith of such
a person, and of shewing, how apt he is to swallow absurdities and
improbabilities for truth. This is received as a piece of wit, and all
the by-standers laugh and applaud the ingenuity and invention of him
who told the lie, and they all regale themselves at the expence of the
innocent credulous person. But I consider this as an abuse; for does
the simple and easy credulity of any person give others a right to
insult him? admitting that his excessive credulity proceeds from the
scantiness of his understanding; are we peradventure only obliged to
be civil to, and treat with urbanity, the discreet and the acute? If
God has blessed you with more talents than another man, would it not be
an insolent abuse of them, if you made that person an object of your
scorn, and played upon him, and treated him with the same derision and
contempt that you would treat a monkey? Would this be using him like
your neighbour? Or would it be applying your talents to the end and
purpose, for which God was pleased to endow you with them?
LV. But the truth is, that excessive credulity proceeds more from
goodness of heart, than from want of discretion. I have seen men who
were very simple, and at the same time very penetrating. The same
rectitude of heart, which excites a man of simplicity of manners to
conduct himself without deceit, inclines him to think, that other
people conduct themselves upon the same principle. It often happens,
that a lie is believed by one person because he is an ingenuous man;
and discredited by another, because he is a simpleton. The case is,
that the first, excited by the goodness of his disposition, sets
himself about finding out grounds of probability for what he has
heard, and by his penetration discovers such. The other, who is only
influenced by the dictates of his malice, never seeks after any such
thing; and although he should seek after it, his stupidity would not
permit him to discover it.
LVI. I don’t know whether the story that is commonly told of St. Thomas
Aquinas, which is, that he was made to believe there was an ox that
could fly, be true or not, as likewise what was said about his going
out very anxious to see the spectacle; but this I know, that the rebuke
which was couched in the answer he gave to those who attempted to put
that affront on his credulity, is well worthy of a St. Thomas; I say
worthy of that great repository of excellent virtues, both moral and
intellectual, and worthy also the generosity of heart, and exalted
prudence, of that sublime genius. The answer was as follows: _I could
more easily be made to believe that there was an ox which could fly,
than I could be made to believe, that mankind were capable of giving a
lying relation of such a thing._ What reproof could be more discreet
than this! and what energy and delicacy is there contained in it! I
esteem this sentence more, than I do any of those which the ancient
Grecians have recorded of their wise men. The sublimity of it persuades
me, that it was the legitimate child of St. Thomas’s brain, and of
course I can have no doubt, but the story we have related was true.
Thus we see, the greatest discretion is not incompatible with, but
may be easily reconciled to, and brought to unite with the greatest
simplicity.