But it has a light side as well as a dark. First, much which seems

profane, is not in itself profane, but in the subjective view of the

Protestant beholder. Scenic representations of our Lord's Passion are

not profane to a Catholic population; in like manner, there are

usages, customs, institutions, actions, often of an indifferent

nature, which will be necessarily mixed up with religion in a

Catholic country, because all things whatever are so mixed up.

Protestants have been sometimes shocked, most absurdly as a Catholic

rightly decides, at hearing that Mass is sometimes said for a good

haul of fish. There is no sin here, but only a difference from

Protestant customs. Other phenomena of a Catholic nation are at most

mere extravagances. And then as to what is really sinful, if there be

in it fearful instances of blasphemy or superstition, there are also

special and singular fruits and exhibitions of sanctity; and, if

the many do not seem to lead better lives for all their religious

knowledge, at least they learn, as they can learn nowhere else, how

to repent thoroughly and to die well.

The visible state of a country, which professes Catholicism, need not

be the measure of the spiritual result of that Catholicism, at the

eternal judgment seat; but no one could say that that visible state

was a note that Catholicism was divine.

All this I attempted to bring out in the lecture of which I am

speaking; and that I had some success, I am glad to infer from the

message of congratulation upon it, which I received at the time, from

a foreign Catholic layman, of high English reputation, with whom I

had not the honour of a personal acquaintance. And having given the

key to the lecture, which the writer so wonderfully misrepresents,

I pass on to another head.

7. The Economy

For the subject of the Economy, I shall refer to my discussion upon

it in my History of the Arians, after one word about this writer. He

puts into his title-page these words from a sermon of mine: "It is

not more than an hyperbole to say, that, in certain cases, a lie is

the nearest approach to truth." This sermon he attacks; but I do not

think it necessary to defend it here, because any one who reads it,

will see that he is simply incapable of forming a notion of what it

is about. It treats of subjects which are entirely out of his depth;

and, as I have already shown in other instances, and observed in the

beginning of this volume, he illustrates in his own person the very

thing that shocks him, viz. that the nearest approach to truth, in

given cases, is a lie. He does his best to make something of it, I

believe; but he gets simply perplexed. He finds that it annihilates

space, robs him of locomotion, almost scoffs at the existence of the

earth, and he is simply frightened and cowed. He can but say "the man

who wrote that sermon was already past the possibility of conscious

dishonesty," p. 41. Perhaps it is hardly fair, after such a

confession on his part of being fairly beat, to mark down a blot;

however, let it be Blot _thirty-two_.

Then again, he quotes from me thus: "Many a theory or view of things,

on which an institution is founded, or a party held together, is of

the same kind (economical). Many an argument, used by zealous and

earnest men, has this economical character, being not the very ground

on which they act (for they continue in the same course, though it be

refuted), yet in a certain sense, a representation of it, a proximate

description of their feelings, in the shape of argument, on which

they can rest, to which they can recur when perplexed, and appeal

when they are questioned." He calls these "startling words," p. 39.

Yet here again he illustrates their truth; for in his own case, he

has acted on them in this very controversy with the most happy

exactness. Surely he referred to my sermon on Wisdom and Innocence,

when called on to prove me a liar, as "a proximate description of his

feelings about me, in the shape of argument," and he has "continued

in the same course though it has been refuted." Blot _thirty-three_.

Then, as to "a party being held together by a mythical

representation," or economy. Surely "Church and King," "Reform,"

"Non-intervention," are such symbols; or let this writer answer Mr.

Kinglake's question in his "Crimean War," "Is it true that ... great

armies were gathering, and that for the sake of the _Key_ and the

_Star_ the peace of the nations was brought into danger?" Blot

_thirty-four_.

In the beginning of this work, pp. 17-23, I refuted his gratuitous

accusation against me at p. 42, founded on my calling one of my

Anglican sermons a Protestant one: so I have nothing to do but to

register it here as Blot _thirty-five_.

Then he says that I committed an economy in placing in my original

title-page, that the question between him and me, was whether "Dr.

Newman teaches that Truth is no virtue." It was a "wisdom of the

serpentine type," since I did not add, "for its own sake." Now

observe: First, as to the matter of fact, in the course of my

Letters, which bore that title-page, I printed the words "for its own

sake," _five_ times over. Next, pray, what kind of a virtue is that,

which is _not_ done for its own sake? So this, after all, is this

writer's idea of virtue! a something that is done for the sake of

something _else_; a sort of expedience! He is honest, it seems,

simply _because_ honesty is "the best policy," and on that score it

is that he thinks himself virtuous. Why, "for its own sake" enters

into the very idea or definition of a virtue. Defend me from such

virtuous men, as this writer would inflict upon us! Blot

_thirty-six_.

These blots are enough just now; so I proceed to a brief sketch of

what I held in 1833 upon the Economy, as a rule of practice. I wrote

this two months ago; perhaps the composition is not quite in keeping

with the run of this Appendix; and it is short; but I think it will

be sufficient for my purpose:--

The doctrine of the _Economia_, had, as I have shown, pp. 49-51, a

large signification when applied to the divine ordinances; it also

had a definite application to the duties of Christians, whether

clergy or laity, in preaching, in instructing or catechizing, or in

ordinary intercourse with the world around them.

As Almighty God did not all at once introduce the Gospel to the

world, and thereby gradually prepared men for its profitable

reception, so, according to the doctrine of the early Church, it was

a duty, for the sake of the heathen among whom they lived, to observe

a great reserve and caution in communicating to them the knowledge of

"the whole counsel of God." This cautious dispensation of the truth,

after the manner of a discreet and vigilant steward, is denoted by

the word "economy." It is a mode of acting which comes under the head

of prudence, one of the four cardinal virtues.

The principle of the economy is this; that out of various courses, in

religious conduct or statement, all and each _allowable antecedently

and in themselves_, that ought to be taken which is most expedient

and most suitable at the time for the object in hand.

Instances of its application and exercise in Scripture are such as

the following:--1. Divine Providence did but gradually impart to the

world in general, and to the Jews in particular, the knowledge of His

will:--He is said to have "winked at the times of ignorance among the

heathen;" and He suffered in the Jews divorce "because of the

hardness of their hearts." 2. He has allowed Himself to be

represented as having eyes, ears, and hands, as having wrath,

jealousy, grief, and repentance. 3. In like manner, our Lord spoke

harshly to the Syro-Phoenician woman, whose daughter He was about

to heal, and made as if He would go further, when the two disciples

had come to their journey's end. 4. Thus too Joseph "made himself

strange to his brethren," and Elisha kept silence on request of

Naaman to bow in the house of Rimmon. 5. Thus St. Paul circumcised

Timothy, while he cried out "Circumcision availeth not."

It may be said that this principle, true in itself, yet is dangerous,

because it admits of an easy abuse, and carries men away into what

becomes insincerity and cunning. This is undeniable; to do evil that

good may come, to consider that the means, whatever they are, justify

the end, to sacrifice truth to expedience, unscrupulousness,

recklessness, are grave offences. These are abuses of the economy.

But to call them _economical_ is to give a fine name to what occurs

every day, independent of any knowledge of the _doctrine_ of the

Economy. It is the abuse of a rule which nature suggests to every

one. Every one looks out for the "mollia tempora fandi," and "mollia

verba" too.

Having thus explained what is meant by the economy as a rule of

social intercourse between men of different religious, or, again,

political, or social views, next I go on to state what I said in the

Arians.

I say in that volume first, that our Lord has given us the

_principle_ in His own words--"Cast not your pearls before swine;"

and that He exemplified it in His teaching by parables; that St. Paul

expressly distinguishes between the milk which is necessary to one

set of men, and the strong meat which is allowed to others, and that,

in two Epistles. I say, that the apostles in the Acts observe the

same rule in their speeches, for it is a fact, that they do not

preach the high doctrines of Christianity, but only "Jesus and the

resurrection" or "repentance and faith." I also say, that this is

the very reason that the Fathers assign for the silence of various

writers in the first centuries on the subject of our Lord's divinity.

I also speak of the catechetical system practised in the early

Church, and the _disciplina arcani_ as regards the doctrine of the

Holy Trinity, to which Bingham bears witness; also of the defence of

this rule by Basil, Cyril of Jerusalem, Chrysostom, and Theodoret.

And next the question may be asked, whether I have said anything in

my volume _to guard_ the doctrine, thus laid down, from the abuse to

which it is obviously exposed: and my answer is easy. Of course, had

I had any idea that I should have been exposed to such hostile

misrepresentations, as it has been my lot to undergo on the subject,

I should have made more direct avowals than I have done of my sense

of the gravity and the danger of that abuse. Since I could not

foresee when I wrote, that I should have been wantonly slandered, I

only wonder that I have anticipated the charge as fully as will be

seen in the following extracts.

For instance, speaking of the Disciplina Arcani, I say:--(1) "The

elementary information given to the heathen or catechumen was _in no

sense undone_ by the subsequent secret teaching, which was in fact

but the _filling up of a bare but correct outline_," p. 58, and I

contrast this with the conduct of the Manichaeans "who represented the

initiatory discipline as founded on a _fiction_ or hypothesis, which

was to be forgotten by the learner as he made progress in the _real_

doctrine of the Gospel." (2) As to allegorising, I say that the

Alexandrians erred, whenever and as far as they proceeded "to

_obscure_ the primary meaning of Scripture, and to _weaken the force

of historical facts_ and express declarations," p. 69. (3) And that

they were "more open to _censure_," when, on being "_urged by

objections_ to various passages in the history of the Old Testament,

as derogatory to the divine perfections or to the Jewish Saints, they

had _recourse to an allegorical explanation by way of answer_," p.

71. (4) I add, "_It is impossible to defend such a procedure_, which

seems to imply a _want of faith_ in those who had recourse to it;"

for "God has given us _rules of right and wrong_," _ibid_. (5) Again,

I say--"The _abuse of the Economy_ in _the hands of unscrupulous

reasoners_, is obvious. _Even the honest_ controversialist or teacher

will find it very difficult to represent, _without misrepresenting_,

what it is yet his duty to present to his hearers with caution or

reserve. Here the obvious rule to guide our practice is, to be

careful ever to maintain _substantial truth_ in our use of the

economical method," pp. 79, 80. (6) And so far from concurring at all

hazards with Justin, Gregory, or Athanasius, I say, "It _is plain_

[they] _were justified or not_ in their Economy, _according_ as they

did or did not _practically mislead their opponents_," p. 80. (7) I

proceed, "It is so difficult to hit the mark in these perplexing

cases, that it is not wonderful, should these or other Fathers have

failed at times, and said more or less than was proper," _ibid_.

The principle of the economy is familiarly acted on among us every

day. When we would persuade others, we do not begin by treading on

their toes. Men would be thought rude who introduced their own

religious notions into mixed society, and were devotional in a

drawing-room. Have we never thought lawyers tiresome who came down

for the assizes and talked law all through dinner? Does the same

argument tell in the House of Commons, on the hustings, and at Exeter

Hall? Is an educated gentleman never worsted at an election by the

tone and arguments of some clever fellow, who, whatever his

shortcomings in other respects, understands the common people?

As to the Catholic religion in England at the present day, this only

will I observe--that the truest expedience is to answer right out,

when you are asked; that the wisest economy is to have no management;

that the best prudence is not to be a coward; that the most damaging

folly is to be found out shuffling; and that the first of virtues is

to "tell truth, and shame the devil."

8. Lying and Equivocation

This writer says, "Though [a lie] be a sin, the fact of its being a

venial one seems to have gained for it as yet a very slight

penance."--p. 46. Yet he says also that Dr. Newman takes "a perverse

pleasure in eccentricities," because I say that "it is better for sun

and moon to drop from heaven than that one soul should tell one

wilful untruth."--p. 30. That is, he first accuses us without

foundation of making light of a lie; and, when he finds that we

don't, then he calls us inconsistent. I have noticed these words of

mine, and two passages besides, which he quotes, above at pp.

222-224. Here I will but observe on the subject of venial sin

generally, that he altogether forgets our doctrine of purgatory. This

punishment may last till the day of judgment; so much for duration;

then as to intensity, let the image of fire, by which we denote it,

show what we think of it. Here is the expiation of venial sins. Yet

Protestants, after the manner of this writer, are too apt to play

fast and loose; to blame us because we hold that sin may be venial,

and to blame us again when we tell them what we think will be its

punishment. Blot _thirty-seven_.

At the end of his pamphlet he makes a distinction between the

Catholic clergy and gentry in England, which I know the latter

consider to be very impertinent; and he makes it apropos of a passage

in one of my original letters in January. He quotes me as saying that

"Catholics differ from Protestants, as to whether this or that act in

particular is conformable to the rule of truth," p. 48; and then he

goes on to observe, that I have "calumniated the Catholic gentry,"

because "there is no difference whatever, of detail or other, between

their truthfulness and honour, and the truthfulness and honour of the

Protestant gentry among whom they live." But again he has garbled my

words; they run thus:

"Truth is the same in itself and in substance, to Catholic and

Protestant; so is purity; both virtues are to be referred to that

moral sense which is the natural possession of us all. But, when we

come to the question in detail, whether this or that act in

particular is conformable to the rule of truth, or again to the rule

of purity, then _sometimes_ there is a difference of opinion _between

individuals, sometimes_ between schools, and _sometimes_ between

religious communions." I knew indeed perfectly well, and I confessed

that "_Protestants_ think that the Catholic system, as such, leads to

a lax observance of the rule of truth;" but I added, "I am very sorry

that they should think so," and I never meant myself to grant that

all Protestants were on the strict side, and all Catholics on the

lax. Far from it; there is a stricter party as well as a laxer party

among Catholics, there is a laxer party as well as a stricter party

among Protestants. I have already spoken of Protestant writers who in

certain cases allow of lying, I have also spoken of Catholic writers

who do not allow of equivocation; when I wrote "a difference of

opinion between individuals," and "between schools," I meant between

Protestant and Protestant, and particular instances were in my mind.

I did not say then, or dream of saying, that Catholics, priests and

laity, were lax on the point of lying, and that Protestants were

strict, any more than I meant to say that all Catholics were pure,

and all Protestants impure; but I meant to say that, whereas the rule

of truth is one and the same both to Catholic and Protestant,

nevertheless some Catholics were lax, some strict, and again some

Protestants were strict, some lax; and I have already had

opportunities of recording my own judgment on which side this writer

is _himself_, and therefore he may keep his forward vindication of

"honest gentlemen and noble ladies," who, in spite of their priests,

are still so truthful, till such time as he can find a worse

assailant of them than I am, and they no better champion of them than

himself. And as to the Priests of England, those who know them, as he

does _not_, will pronounce them no whit inferior in this great virtue

to the gentry, whom he says that he _does_; and I cannot say more.

Blot _thirty-eight_.

Lastly, this writer uses the following words, which I have more than

once quoted, and with a reference to them I shall end my remarks upon

him. "I am henceforth," he says, "in doubt and fear, as much as _an

honest man can be_, concerning every word Dr. Newman may write. How

can I tell that I shall not be the dupe of some cunning equivocation,

of one of the three kinds, laid down as permissible by the blessed

St. Alfonso da Liguori and his pupils, even when confirmed with an

oath...?"

I will tell him why he need not fear; because he has _left out_ one

very important condition in the statement of St. Alfonso--and very

applicable to my own case, even if I followed St. Alfonso's view of

the subject. St. Alfonso says "_ex justa causa_;" but our "honest

man," as he styles himself, has _omitted these words_; which are a

key to the whole question. Blot _thirty-nine_. Here endeth our

"honest man." Now for the subject of lying.

Almost all authors, Catholic and Protestant, admit, that _when a just

cause is present_, there is some kind or other of verbal misleading,

which is not sin. Even silence is in certain cases virtually such a

misleading, according to the proverb, "Silence gives consent." Again,

silence is absolutely forbidden to a Catholic, as a mortal sin, under

certain circumstances, _e.g._ to keep silence, instead of making a

profession of faith.

Another mode of verbal misleading, and the most direct, is actually

saying the thing that is not; and it is defended on the principle

that such words are not a lie, when there is a "justa causa," as

killing is not murder in the case of an executioner.

Another ground of certain authors for saying that an untruth is not a

lie where there is a just cause, is, that veracity is a kind of

justice, and therefore, when we have no duty of justice to tell truth

to another, it is no sin not to do so. Hence we may say the thing

that is not, to children, to madmen, to men who ask impertinent

questions, to those whom we hope to benefit by misleading.

Another ground, taken in defending certain untruths, _ex justa

causa_, as if not lies, is that veracity is for the sake of society,

and, if in no case we might lawfully mislead others, we should

actually be doing society great harm.

Another mode of verbal misleading is equivocation or a play upon

words; and it is defended on the view that to lie is to use words in

a sense which they will not bear. But an equivocator uses them in a

received sense, though there is another received sense, and

therefore, according to this definition, he does not lie.

Others say that all equivocations are, after all, a kind of lying,

faint lies or awkward lies, but still lies; and some of these

disputants infer, that therefore we must not equivocate, and others

that equivocation is but a half measure, and that it is better to say

at once that in certain cases untruths are not lies.

Others will try to distinguish between evasions and equivocations;

but they will be answered, that, though there are evasions which are

clearly not equivocations, yet that it is difficult scientifically to

draw the line between them.

To these must be added the unscientific way of dealing with lies,

viz. that on a great or cruel occasion a man cannot help telling a

lie, and he would not be a man, did he not tell it, but still it is

wrong and he ought not to do it, and he must trust that the sin will

be forgiven him, though he goes about to commit it. It is a frailty,

and had better not be anticipated, and not thought of again, after

it is once over. This view cannot for a moment be defended, but, I

suppose, it is very common.

And now I think the historical course of thought upon the matter has

been this: the Greek Fathers thought that, when there was a _justa

causa_, an untruth need not be a lie. St. Augustine took another

view, though with great misgiving; and, whether he is rightly

interpreted or not, is the doctor of the great and common view that

all untruths are lies, and that there can be _no_ just cause of

untruth. In these later times, this doctrine has been found difficult

to work, and it has been largely taught that, though all untruths are

lies, yet that certain equivocations, when there is a just cause, are

not untruths.

Further, there have been and all along through these later ages,

other schools, running parallel with the above mentioned, one of

which says that equivocations, etc. after all _are_ lies, and another

which says that there are untruths which are not lies.

And now as to the "just cause," which is the condition, _sine qua

non_. The Greek Fathers make them such as these, self-defence,

charity, zeal for God's honour, and the like.

St. Augustine seems to deal with the same "just causes" as the Greek

Fathers, even though he does not allow of their availableness as

depriving untruths, spoken with such objects, of their sinfulness. He

mentions defence of life and of honour, and the safe custody of a

secret. Also the Anglican writers, who have followed the Greek

Fathers, in defending untruths when there is the "just cause,"

consider that just cause to be such as the preservation of life and

property, defence of law, the good of others. Moreover, their moral

rights, _e.g._ defence against the inquisitive, etc.

St. Alfonso, I consider, would take the same view of the "justa

causa" as the Anglican divines; he speaks of it as "quicunque finis

_honestus_, ad servanda bona spiritui vel corpori utilia;" which is

very much the view which they take of it, judging by the instances

which they give.

In all cases, however, and as contemplated by all authors, Clement of

Alexandria, or Milton, or St. Alfonso, such a causa is, in fact,

extreme, rare, great, or at least special. Thus the writer in the

Melanges Theologiques (Liege, 1852-3, p. 453) quotes Lessius:

"Si absque justa causa fiat, est abusio orationis contra virtutem

veritatis, et civilem consuetudinem, etsi proprie non sit mendacium."

That is, the virtue of truth, and the civil custom, are the _measure_

of the just cause. And so Voit, "If a man has used a reservation

(restrictione non pure mentali) without a _grave_ cause, he has

sinned gravely." And so the author himself, from whom I quote,

and who defends the Patristic and Anglican doctrine that there

are untruths which are not lies, says, "Under the name of mental

reservation theologians authorise many lies, _when there is for them

a grave reason_ and proportionate," _i.e._ to their character--p.

459. And so St. Alfonso, in another treatise, quotes St. Thomas to

the effect, that, if from one cause two immediate effects follow,

and, if the good effect of that cause is _equal in value_ to the bad

effect (bonus _aequivalet_ malo), then nothing hinders that the good

may be intended and the evil permitted. From which it will follow

that, since the evil to society from lying is very great, the just

cause which is to make it allowable, must be very great also. And

so Kenrick: "It is confessed by all Catholics that, in the common

intercourse of life, all ambiguity of language is to be avoided; but

it is debated whether such ambiguity is ever lawful. Most theologians

answer in the affirmative, supposing a _grave cause_ urges, and the

[true] mind of the speaker can be collected from the adjuncts, though

in fact it be not collected."

However, there are cases, I have already said, of another kind, in

which Anglican authors would think a lie allowable; such as when a

question is _impertinent_. Accordingly, I think the best word for

embracing all the cases which would come under the "justa causa," is,

not "extreme," but "special," and I say the same as regards St.

Alfonso; and therefore, above in pp. 242 and 244, whether I speak of

St. Alfonso or Paley, I should have used the word "special," or

"extraordinary," not "extreme."

What I have been saying shows what different schools of opinion there

are in the Church in the treatment of this difficult doctrine; and,

by consequence, that a given individual, such as I am, _cannot_ agree

with all, and has a full right to follow which he will. The freedom

of the schools, indeed, is one of those rights of reason, which the

Church is too wise really to interfere with. And this applies not to

moral questions only, but to dogmatic also.

It is supposed by Protestants that, because St. Alfonso's writings

have had such high commendation bestowed upon them by authority,

therefore they have been invested with a quasi-infallibility. This

has arisen in good measure from Protestants not knowing the force

of theological terms. The words to which they refer are the

authoritative decision that "nothing in his works has been found

_worthy of censure_," "censura dignum;" but this does not lead to the

conclusions which have been drawn from it. Those words occur in a

legal document, and cannot be interpreted except in a legal sense. In

the first place, the sentence is negative; nothing in St. Alfonso's

writings is positively approved; and secondly it is not said that

there are no faults in what he has written, but nothing which comes

under the ecclesiastical _censura_, which is something very definite.

To take and interpret them, in the way commonly adopted in England,

is the same mistake, as if one were to take the word "apologia" in

the English sense of apology, or "infant" in law to mean a little

child.

1. Now first as to the meaning of the form of words viewed as a

proposition. When they were brought before the fitting authorities at

Rome by the Archbishop of Besancon, the answer returned to him

contained the condition that those words were to be interpreted,

"with due regard to the mind of the Holy See concerning the

approbation of writings of the servants of God, ad effectum

Canonisationis." This is intended to prevent any Catholic taking the

words about St. Alfonso's works in too large a sense. Before a saint

is canonised, his works are examined and a judgment pronounced upon

them. Pope Benedict XIV. says, "The _end_ or _scope_ of this judgment

is, that it may appear, whether the doctrine of the servant of God,

which he has brought out in his writings, is free from any soever

_theological censure_." And he remarks in addition, "It never can be

said that the doctrine of a servant of God is _approved_ by the Holy

See, but at most it can [only] be said that it is not disapproved

(non reprobatam) in case that the revisers had reported that there is

nothing found by them in his works, which is adverse to the decrees

of Urban VIII., and that the judgment of the Revisers has been

approved by the sacred Congregation, and confirmed by the Supreme

Pontiff." The Decree of Urban VIII. here referred to is, "Let works

be examined, whether they contain errors against faith or good morals

(bonos mores), or any new doctrine, or a doctrine foreign and alien

to the common sense and custom of the Church." The author from whom I

quote this (M. Vandenbroeck, of the diocese of Malines) observes, "It

is therefore clear, that the approbation of the works of the Holy

Bishop touches not the truth of every proposition, adds nothing to

them, nor even gives them by consequence a degree of intrinsic

probability." He adds that it gives St. Alfonso's theology an

extrinsic probability, from the fact that, in the judgment of the

Holy See, no proposition deserves to receive a censure; but that

"that probability will cease nevertheless in a particular case, for

any one who should be convinced, whether by evident arguments, or by

a decree of the Holy See, or otherwise, that the doctrine of the

Saint deviates from the truth." He adds, "From the fact that the

approbation of the works of St. Alfonso does not decide the truth of

each proposition, it follows, as Benedict XIV. has remarked, that we

may combat the doctrine which they contain; only, since a canonised

saint is in question, who is honoured by a solemn _culte_ in the

Church, we ought not to speak except with respect, nor to attack his

opinions except with temper and modesty."

2. Then, as to the meaning of the word _censura_: Benedict XIV.

enumerates a number of "Notes" which come under that name; he says,

"Out of propositions which are to be noted with theological censure,

some are heretical, some erroneous, some close upon error, some

savouring of heresy," and so on; and each of these terms has its own

definite meaning. Thus by "erroneous" is meant, according to Viva, a

proposition which is not _immediately_ opposed to a revealed

proposition, but only to a theological _conclusion_ drawn from

premisses which are _de fide_; "savouring of heresy," when a

proposition is opposed to a theological conclusion not evidently

drawn from premisses which are _de fide_, but most probably and

according to the common mode of theologising, and so with the rest.

Therefore when it was said by the revisers of St. Alfonso's works

that they were not "worthy of _censure_," it was only meant that they

did not fall under these particular Notes.

But the answer from Rome to the Archbishop of Besancon went further

than this; it actually took pains to declare that any one who pleased

might follow other theologians instead of St. Alfonso. After saying

that no priest was to be interfered with who followed St. Alfonso in

the Confessional, it added, "This is said, however, without on that

account judging that they are reprehended who follow opinions handed

down by other approved authors."

And this too, I will observe, that St. Alfonso made many changes of

opinion himself in the course of his writings; and it could not

for an instant be supposed that we were bound to every one of his

opinions, when he did not feel himself bound to them in his own

person. And, what is more to the purpose still, there are opinions,

or some opinion, of his which actually has been proscribed by the

Church since, and cannot now be put forward or used. I do not pretend

to be a well-read theologian myself, but I say this on the authority

of a theological professor of Breda, quoted in the Melanges Theol.

for 1850-1. He says: "It may happen, that, in the course of time,

errors may be found in the works of St. Alfonso and be proscribed by

the Church, _a thing which in fact has already occurred_."

In not ranging myself then with those who consider that it is

justifiable to use words in a double sense, that is, to equivocate, I

put myself, first, under the protection of Cardinal Gerdil, who, in a

work lately published at Rome, has the following passage, which I owe

to the kindness of a friend:

Gerdil

"In an oath one ought to have respect to the intention of the party

swearing, and the intention of the party to whom the oath is taken.

Whoso swears binds himself in virtue of the words, not according to

the sense he retains in his own mind, but _in the sense according to

which he perceives that they are understood by him to whom the oath

is made_. When the mind of the one is discordant with the mind of the

other, if this happens by deceit or cheat of the party swearing, he

is bound to observe the oath according to the right sense (sana

mente) of the party receiving it; but, when the discrepancy in

the sense comes of misunderstanding, without deceit of the party

swearing, in that case he is not bound, except to that to which he

had in mind to wish to be bound. It follows hence, that _whoso uses

mental reservation or equivocation in the oath_, in order to deceive

the party to whom he offers it, _sins most grievously_, and is always

bound to observe the oath _in the sense in which he knew that his

words were_ taken by the other party, according to the decision of

St. Augustine, 'They are perjured, who, having kept the words, have

deceived the expectations of those to whom the oath was taken.' He

who swears externally, without the inward intention of swearing,

commits a most grave sin, and remains all the same under the

obligation to fulfil it.... In a word, all that is contrary to good

faith, is iniquitous, and by introducing the name of God the iniquity

is aggravated by the guilt of sacrilege."

Natalis Alexander

"They certainly lie, who utter the words of an oath, and without the

will to swear or bind themselves; or who _make use of mental

reservations and equivocations_ in swearing, since they signify by

words what they have not in mind, contrary to the end for which

language was instituted, viz. as signs of ideas. Or they mean

something else than the words signify in themselves, and the

common custom of speech, and the circumstances of persons and

business-matters; and thus they abuse words which were instituted for

the cherishing of society."

Contenson

"Hence is apparent how worthy of condemnation is the temerity of

those half-taught men, who give a colour to lies and _equivocations_

by the words and instances of Christ. Than whose doctrine, which is

an art of deceiving, nothing can be more pestilent. And that, both

because what you do not wish done to yourself, you should not do to

another; now the patrons of equivocations and mental reservations

would not like to be themselves deceived by others, etc.... and also

because St. Augustine, etc.... In truth, as there is no pleasant

living with those whose language we do not understand, and, as St.

Augustine teaches, a man would more readily live with his dog than

with a foreigner, less pleasant certainly is our converse with those

who make use of frauds artificially covered, overreach their hearers

by deceits, address them insidiously, observe the right moment, and

catch at words to their purpose, by which truth is hidden under a

covering; and so on the other hand nothing is sweeter than the

society of those, who both love and speak the naked truth, ...

without their mouth professing one thing and their mind hiding

another, or spreading before it the cover of double words. Nor does

it matter that they colour their lies with the name of _equivocations

or mental reservations_. For Hilary says, 'The sense, not the speech,

makes the crime.'"

Concina allows of what I shall presently call _evasions_, but nothing

beyond, if I understand him; but he is most vehement against mental

reservation of every kind, so I quote him.

Concina

"That mode of speech, which some theologians call pure mental

reservation, others call reservation not simply mental; that language

which to me is lying, to the greater part of recent authors is only

amphibological.... I have discovered that nothing is adduced by more

recent theologians for the lawful use of _amphibologies_ which has

not been made use of already by the ancients, whether philosophers or

some Fathers, in defence of lies. Nor does there seem to me other

difference when I consider their respective grounds, except that the

ancients frankly called those modes of speech lies, and the more

recent writers, not a few of them, call them amphibological,

equivocal, and _material_."

In another place he quotes Caramuel, so I suppose I may do so too,

for the very reason that his theological reputation does not place

him on the side of strictness. Concina says, "Caramuel himself, who

bore away the palm from all others in relaxing the evangelical and

natural law, says:

Caramuel

"I have an innate aversion to mental reservations. If they are

contained within the bounds of piety and sincerity, then they are not

necessary; ... but if [otherwise] they are the destruction of human

society and sincerity, and are to be condemned as pestilent. Once

admitted, they open the way to all lying, all perjury. And the whole

difference in the matter is, that what yesterday was called a lie,

changing, not its nature and malice, but its name, is today entitled

'mental reservation;' and this is to sweeten poison with sugar, and

to colour guilt with the appearance of virtue."

St. Thomas

"When the sense of the party swearing, and of the party to whom he

swears, is not the same, if this proceeds from the deceit of the

former, the oath ought to be kept according to the right sense of the

party to whom it is made. But if the party swearing does not make use

of deceit, then he is bound according to his own sense."

St. Isidore

"With whatever artifice of words a man swears, nevertheless God who

is the witness of his conscience, so takes the oath as he understands

it, to whom it is sworn. And he becomes twice guilty, who both takes

the name of God in vain, and deceives his neighbour."

St. Augustine

"I do not question that this is most justly laid down, that the

promise of an oath must be fulfilled, not according to the words of

the party taking it, but according to the expectation of the party to

whom it is taken, of which he who takes it is aware."

And now, under the protection of these authorities, I say as

follows:--

Casuistry is a noble science, but it is one to which I am led,

neither by my abilities nor my turn of mind. Independently, then, of

the difficulties of the subject, and the necessity, before forming

an opinion, of knowing more of the arguments of theologians upon it

than I do, I am very unwilling to say a word here on the subject of

lying and equivocation. But I consider myself bound to speak; and

therefore, in this strait, I can do nothing better, even for my own

relief, than submit myself and what I shall say to the judgment of

the Church, and to the consent, so far as in this matter there be a

consent, of the Schola Theologorum.

Now, in the case of one of those special and rare exigencies or

emergencies, which constitute the _justa causa_ of dissembling or

misleading, whether it be extreme as the defence of life, or a duty

as the custody of a secret, or of a personal nature as to repel an

impertinent inquirer, or a matter too trivial to provoke question, as

in dealing with children or madmen, there seem to be four courses:

1. _To say the thing that is not_. Here I draw the reader's attention

to the words _material_ and _formal_. "Thou shalt not kill;" _murder_

is the _formal_ transgression of this commandment, but _accidental

homicide_ is the _material_ transgression. The _matter_ of the act is

the same in both cases; but in the _homicide_, there is nothing more

than the act, whereas in _murder_ there must be the intention, etc.

which constitutes the formal sin. So, again, an executioner commits

the material act, but not that formal killing which is a breach of

the commandment. So a man, who, simply to save himself from starving,

takes a loaf which is not his own, commits only the material, not the

formal act of stealing, that is, he does not commit a sin. And so a

baptised Christian, external to the Church, who is in invincible

ignorance, is a material heretic, and not a formal. And in like

manner, if to say the thing which is not be in special cases lawful,

it may be called a _material lie_.

The first mode then which has been suggested of meeting those special

cases, in which to mislead by words has a sufficient object, or has a

_just cause_, is by a material lie.

The second mode is by an _aequivocatio_, which is not equivalent to

the English word "equivocation," but means sometimes a _play upon

words_, sometimes an _evasion_.

2. _A play upon words_. St. Alfonso certainly says that a play upon

words is allowable; and, speaking under correction, I should say that

he does so on the ground that lying is _not_ a sin against justice,

that is, against our neighbour, but a sin against God; because words

are the signs of ideas, and therefore if a word denotes two ideas, we

are at liberty to use it in either of its senses: but I think I must

be incorrect here in some respect, because the Catechism of the

Council, as I have quoted it at p. 248, says, "Vanitate et mendacio

fides ac veritas tolluntur, arctissima vincula _societatis humanae_;

quibus sublatis, sequitur summa vitae _confusio_, ut _homines nihil a

daemonibus differre videantur_."

3. _Evasion_;--when, for instance, the speaker diverts the attention

of the hearer to another subject; suggests an irrelevant fact or

makes a remark, which confuses him and gives him something to think

about; throws dust into his eyes; states some truth, from which he is

quite sure his hearer will draw an illogical and untrue conclusion,

and the like. Bishop Butler seems distinctly to sanction such a

proceeding, in a passage which I shall extract below.

The greatest school of evasion, I speak seriously, is the House of

Commons; and necessarily so, from the nature of the case. And the

hustings is another.

An instance is supplied in the history of St. Athanasius: he was in a

boat on the Nile, flying persecution; and he found himself pursued.

On this he ordered his men to turn his boat round, and ran right to

meet the satellites of Julian. They asked him, Have you seen

Athanasius? and he told his followers to answer, "Yes, he is close to

you." _They_ went on their course, and _he_ ran into Alexandria, and

there lay hid till the end of the persecution.

I gave another instance above, in reference to a doctrine of

religion. The early Christians did their best to conceal their Creed

on account of the misconceptions of the heathen about it. Were the

question asked of them, "Do you worship a Trinity?" and did they

answer, "We worship one God, and none else;" the inquirer might, or

would, infer that they did not acknowledge the Trinity of Divine

Persons.

It is very difficult to draw the line between these evasions, and

what are commonly called in English _equivocations_; and of this

difficulty, again, I think, the scenes in the House of Commons supply

us with illustrations.

4. The fourth method is _silence_. For instance, not giving the

_whole_ truth in a court of law. If St. Alban, after dressing himself

in the priest's clothes, and being taken before the persecutor, had

been able to pass off for his friend, and so gone to martyrdom

without being discovered; and had he in the course of examination

answered all questions truly, but not given the whole truth, the most

important truth, that he was the wrong person, he would have come

very near to telling a lie, for a half-truth is often a falsehood.

And his defence must have been the _justa causa_, viz. either that he

might in charity or for religion's sake save a priest, or again that

the judge had no right to interrogate him on the subject.

Now, of these four modes of misleading others by the tongue, when

there is a _justa causa_ (supposing there can be such)--a material

lie, that is an untruth which is not a lie, an equivocation, an

evasion, and silence,--First, I have no difficulty whatever in

recognizing as allowable the method of _silence_.

Secondly, But, if I allow of _silence_, why not of the method of

_material lying_, since half of a truth _is_ often a lie? And, again,

if all killing be not murder, nor all taking from another stealing,

why must all untruths be lies? Now I will say freely that I think it

difficult to answer this question, whether it be urged by St. Clement

or by Milton; at the same time, I never have acted, and I think, when

it came to the point, I never should act upon such a theory myself,

except in one case, stated below. This I say for the benefit of those

who speak hardly of Catholic theologians, on the ground that they

admit text-books which allow of equivocation. They are asked, how can

we trust you, when such are your views? but such views, as I already

have said, need not have anything to do with their own practice,

merely from the circumstance that they are contained in their

text-books. A theologian draws out a system; he does it partly as a

scientific speculation: but much more for the sake of others. He is

lax for the sake of others, not of himself. His own standard of

action is much higher than that which he imposes upon men in general.

One special reason why religious men, after drawing out a theory, are

unwilling to act upon it themselves, is this: that they practically

acknowledge a broad distinction between their reason and their

conscience; and that they feel the latter to be the safer guide,

though the former may be the clearer, nay even though it be the

truer. They would rather be wrong with their conscience, than right

with their reason. And again here is this more tangible difficulty in

the case of exceptions to the rule of veracity, that so very little

external help is given us in drawing the line, as to when untruths

are allowable and when not; whereas that sort of killing which is not

murder, is most definitely marked off by legal enactments, so that it

cannot possibly be mistaken for such killing as _is_ murder. On the

other hand the cases of exemption from the rule of Veracity are left

to the private judgment of the individual, and he may easily be led

on from acts which are allowable to acts which are not. Now this

remark does _not_ apply to such acts as are related in Scripture, as

being done by a particular inspiration, for in such cases there _is_

a command. If I had my own way, I would oblige society, that is, its

great men, its lawyers, its divines, its literature, publicly to

acknowledge, as such, those instances of untruth which are not lies,

as for instance, untruths in war; and then there could be no danger

in them to the individual Catholic, for he would be acting under a

rule.

Thirdly, as to playing upon words, or equivocation, I suppose it is

from the English habit, but, without meaning any disrespect to a

great Saint, or wishing to set myself up, or taking my conscience for

more than it is worth, I can only say as a fact, that I admit it as

little as the rest of my countrymen: and, without any reference to

the right and the wrong of the matter, of this I am sure, that, if

there is one thing more than another which prejudices Englishmen

against the Catholic Church, it is the doctrine of great authorities

on the subject of equivocation. For myself, I can fancy myself

thinking it was allowable in extreme cases for me to lie, but never

to equivocate. Luther said, "Pecca fortiter." I anathematise the

formal sentiment, but there is a truth in it, when spoken of material

acts.

Fourthly, I think _evasion_, as I have described it, to be perfectly

allowable; indeed, I do not know, who does not use it, under

circumstances; but that a good deal of moral danger is attached to

its use; and that, the cleverer a man is, the more likely he is to

pass the line of Christian duty.

But it may be said, that such decisions do not meet the particular

difficulties for which provision is required; let us then take some

instances.

1. I do not think it right to tell lies to children, even on this

account, that they are sharper than we think them, and will soon find

out what we are doing; and our example will be a very bad training

for them. And so of equivocation: it is easy of imitation, and we

ourselves shall be sure to get the worst of it in the end.

2. If an early Father defends the patriarch Jacob in his mode of

gaining his father's blessing, on the ground that the blessing was

divinely pledged to him already, that it was his, and that his father

and brother were acting at once against his own rights and the divine

will, it does not follow from this that such conduct is a pattern to

us, who have no supernatural means of determining _when_ an untruth

becomes a _material_ and not a _formal_ lie. It seems to me very

dangerous, be it allowable or not, to lie or equivocate in order to

preserve some great temporal or spiritual benefit, nor does St.

Alfonso here say anything to the contrary, for he is not discussing

the question of danger or expedience.

3. As to Johnson's case of a murderer asking you which way a man had

gone, I should have anticipated that, had such a difficulty happened

to him, his first act would have been to knock the man down, and to

call out for the police; and next, if he was worsted in the conflict,

he would not have given the ruffian the information he asked, at

whatever risk to himself. I think he would have let himself be killed

first. I do not think that he would have told a lie.

4. A secret is a more difficult case. Supposing something has been

confided to me in the strictest secrecy, which could not be revealed

without great disadvantage to another, what am I to do? If I am a

lawyer, I am protected by my profession. I have a right to treat with

extreme indignation any question which trenches on the inviolability

of my position; but, supposing I was driven up into a corner, I think

I should have a right to say an untruth, or that, under such

circumstances, a lie would be _material_, but it is almost an

impossible case, for the law would defend me. In like manner, as a

priest, I should think it lawful to speak as if I knew nothing of

what passed in confession. And I think in these cases, I do in fact

possess that guarantee, that I am not going by private judgment,

which just now I demanded; for society would bear me out, whether as

a lawyer or as a priest, that I had a duty to my client or penitent,

such, that an untruth in the matter was not a lie. A common type of

this permissible denial, be it _material lie_ or _evasion_, is at the

moment supplied to me: an artist asked a Prime Minister, who was

sitting to him, "What news, my Lord, from France?" He answered,

"_I do not know_; I have not read the Papers."

5. A more difficult question is, when to accept confidence has not

been a duty. Supposing a man wishes to keep the secret that he is

the author of a book, and he is plainly asked on the subject. Here

I should ask the previous question, whether any one has a right

to publish what he dare not avow. It requires to have traced the

bearings and results of such a principle, before being sure of it;

but certainly, for myself, I am no friend of strictly anonymous

writing. Next, supposing another has confided to you the secret of

his authorship: there are persons who would have no scruple at all in

giving a denial to impertinent questions asked them on the subject. I

have heard a great man in his day at Oxford, warmly contend, as if he

could not enter into any other view of the matter, that, if he had

been trusted by a friend with the secret of his being author of a

certain book, and he were asked by a third person, if his friend was

not (as he really was) the author of it, he ought without any scruple

and distinctly to answer that he did not know. He had an existing

duty towards the author; he had none towards his inquirer. The author

had a claim on him; an impertinent questioner had none at all. But

here again I desiderate some leave, recognised by society, as in the

case of the formulas "Not at home," and "Not guilty," in order to

give me the right of saying what is a _material_ untruth. And

moreover, I should here also ask the previous question, Have I any

right to accept such a confidence? have I any right to make such a

promise? and, if it be an unlawful promise, is it binding at the

expense of a lie? I am not attempting to solve these difficult

questions, but they have to be carefully examined.

As I put into print some weeks ago various extracts from authors

relating to the subject which I have been considering, I conclude by

inserting them here, though they will not have a very methodical

appearance.

For instance, St. Dorotheus: "Sometimes the _necessity_ of some

matter urges (incumbit), which, unless you somewhat conceal and

dissemble it, will turn into a greater trouble." And he goes on to

mention the case of saving a man who has committed homicide from his

pursuers: and he adds that it is not a thing that can be done often,

but once in a long time.

St. Clement in like manner speaks of it only as a necessity, and as a

necessary medicine.

Origen, after saying that God's commandment makes it a plain duty to

speak the truth, adds, that a man, "when necessity urges," may avail

himself of a lie, as medicine, that is, to the extent of Judith's

conduct towards Holofernes; and he adds that that necessity may be

the obtaining of a great good, as Jacob hindered his father from

giving the blessing to Esau against the will of God.

Cassian says, that the use of a lie, in order to be allowable, must

be like the use of hellebore, which is itself poison, unless a man

has a fatal disease on him. He adds, "Without the condition of an

extreme necessity, it is a present ruin."

St. John Chrysostom defends Jacob on the ground that his deceiving

his father was not done for the sake of temporal gain, but in order

to fulfil the providential purpose of God; and he says, that, as

Abraham was not a murderer, though he was minded to kill his son, so

an untruth need not be a lie. And he adds, that often such a deceit

is the greatest possible benefit to the man who is deceived, and

therefore allowable. Also St. Hilary, St. John Climacus, etc., in

Thomassin, Concina, the _Melanges_, etc.

Various modern Catholic divines hold this doctrine of the "material

lie" also. I will quote three passages in point.

Cataneo: "Be it then well understood, that the obligation to

veracity, that is, of conforming our words to the sentiments of our

mind, is founded principally upon the necessity of human intercourse,

for which reason they (_i.e._ words) ought not and cannot be lawfully

opposed to this end, so just, so necessary, and so important, without

which, the world would become a Babylon of confusion. And this would

in a great measure be really the result, as often as a man should be

unable to defend secrets of high importance, and other evils would

follow, even worse than confusion, in their nature destructive of

this very intercourse between man and man for which speech was

instituted. Every body must see the advantage a hired assassin would

have, if supposing he did not know by sight the person he was

commissioned to kill, I being asked by the rascal at the moment he

was standing in doubt with his gun cocked, were obliged to approve of

his deed by keeping silence, or to hesitate, or lastly to answer

'Yes, that is the man.' [Then follow other similar cases.] In such

and similar cases, in which your sincerity is unjustly assailed, when

no other way more prompt or more efficacious presents itself, and

when it is not enough to say, 'I do not know,' let such persons be

met openly with a downright resolute 'No' without thinking upon

anything else. For such a 'No' is conformable to the universal

opinion of men, who are the judges of words, and who certainly have

not placed upon them obligations to the injury of the Human Republic,

nor ever entered into a compact to use them in behalf of rascals,

spies, incendiaries, and thieves. I repeat that such a 'No' is

conformable to the universal mind of man, and with this mind your own

mind ought to be in union and alliance. Who does not see the manifest

advantage which highway robbers would derive, were travellers when

asked if they had gold, jewels, etc., obliged either to invent

tergiversations or to answer 'Yes, we have?' Accordingly in such

circumstances that 'No' which you utter [see Card. Pallav. lib. iii.

c. xi. n. 23, de Fide, Spe, etc.] remains deprived of its proper

meaning, and is like a piece of coin, from which by the command of

the government the current value has been withdrawn, so that by using

it you become in no sense guilty of lying."

Bolgeni says, "We have therefore proved satisfactorily, and with more

than moral certainty, that an _exception_ occurs to the general law

of not speaking untruly, viz. when it is impossible to observe a

certain other precept, more important, _without_ telling a lie. Some

persons indeed say, that in the cases of impossibility which are

above drawn out, what is said is _not_ a lie. But a man who thus

speaks confuses ideas and denies the essential characters of things.

What is a lie? It is 'locutio contra mentem;' this is its common

definition. But in the cases of impossibility, a man speaks _contra

mentem_; that is clear and evident. Therefore he tells a lie. Let us

distinguish between the lie and the sin. In the above cases, the man

really tells a lie, but this lie is not a sin, by reason of the

existing impossibility. To say that in those cases no one has a right

to ask, that the words have a meaning according to the common consent

of men, and the like, as is said by certain authors in order in those

cases to exempt the lie from sin, this is to commit oneself to

frivolous excuses, and to subject oneself to a number of retorts,

when there is the plain reason of the above-mentioned fact of

impossibility."

And the Author in the _Melanges Theologiques_: "We have then gained

this truth, and it is a conclusion of which we have not the smallest

doubt, that if the intention of deceiving our neighbour is essential

to a lie, it is allowable in certain cases to say what we know to be

false, as, _e.g._ to escape from a great danger....

"But, let no one be alarmed, it is never allowable to lie; in this we

are in perfect agreement with the whole body of theologians. The only

point in which we differ from them is in what we mean by a lie. They

call that a lie which is not such in our view, or rather, if you

will, what in our view is only a material lie they account to be both

formal and material."

Now to come to Anglican authorities.

Taylor: "Whether it can in any case be lawful to tell a lie? To this

I answer, that the holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament

do indefinitely and severely forbid lying. Prov. xiii. 5; xxx. 8.

Ps. v. 6. John viii. 44. Col. iii. 9. Rev. xxi. 8, 27. Beyond these

things, nothing can be said in condemnation of lying.

"_But then_ lying is to be understood to be _something said or

written to the hurt of our neighbour_, which cannot be understood

otherwise than to differ from the mind of him that speaks. 'A lie is

petulantly or from a desire of hurting, to say one thing, or to

signify it by gesture, and to think another thing;'[6] so Melancthon,

'To lie is to deceive our neighbour to his hurt.' For _in this sense_

a lie is naturally or _intrinsically_ evil; that is, to speak a lie

_to our neighbour_ is naturally evil ... _not_ because it is

different from an eternal truth.... A lie is an _injury_ to our

neighbour.... There is in mankind a universal _contract_ implied in

all their intercourses.... _In justice_ we are bound to speak, so as

that our neighbour do not lose his _right_, which by our speaking we

give him to the truth, that is, in our heart. And of a lie, _thus

defined_, which is _injurious_ to our neighbour, so long as his

_right_ to truth remains, it is that St. Austin affirms it to be

simply unlawful, and that it can in no case be permitted, nisi forte

regulas quasdam daturus es.... If a lie be _unjust_, it can never

become lawful; but, _if it can be separate from injustice_, then it

may be _innocent_. Here then I consider

"This right, though it be regularly and commonly belonging to all

men, yet it may be _taken away_ by a superior right intervening; or

it may be lost, or it may be hindered, or it may cease, upon a

greater reason.

"Therefore upon this account it was lawful for the children of Israel

to borrow jewels of the Egyptians, _which supposes a promise of

restitution, though they intended not to pay them back again_. God

gave commandment so to spoil them, and the Egyptians were divested of

their _rights_, and _were to be used like enemies_.

"_It is lawful to tell a lie to children or to madmen_; because they,

having no powers of judging, have no _right_ to truth; but then, _the

lie must be charitable and useful_.... _If a lie be told_, it must be

such as is _for their good_ ... and so do physicians to their

patients.... This and the like were so usual, so permitted to

physicians, that it grew to a proverb, 'You lie like a doctor;'[7]

which yet was always to be understood in the way of charity, and with

honour to the profession.... To tell a lie for charity, to save a

man's life, the life of a friend, of a husband, of a prince, of a

useful and a public person, hath not only been done at all times, but

commended by great and wise and good men.... Who would not save his

father's life ... at the charge of a _harmless lie_, from the rage of

persecutors or tyrants? ...When the telling of a truth will certainly

be the cause of evil to a man, though he have right to truth, yet it

must not be given to him to his harm.... _Every_ truth is no more

_justice_, than every restitution of a straw to the right owner is a

duty. 'Be not over-righteous,' says Solomon.... If it be objected,

that we must not tell a lie for God, therefore much less for our

brother, I answer, that it does not follow; for God needs not a lie,

_but our brother does_.... _Deceiving_ the enemy by the stratagem of

actions or _words_, is _not properly lying_; for this supposes a

conversation, of law or peace, trust or _promise_ explicit or

implicit. A lie is a deceiving of a _trust or confidence_."--Taylor,

vol. xiii. pp. 351-371, ed. Heber.

It is clear that Taylor thought that veracity was one branch of

justice; a social virtue; under the second table of the law, not

under the first; only binding, when those to whom we speak have a

claim of justice upon us, which ordinarily all men have. Accordingly,

in cases where a neighbour has no claim of justice upon us, there is

no opportunity of exercising veracity, as, for instance, when he is

mad, or is deceived by us for his own advantage. And hence, in such

cases, a lie is _not really_ a lie, as he says in one place,

"Deceiving the enemy is _not properly_ lying." Here he seems to make

that distinction common to Catholics; viz. between what they call a

_material_ act and a _formal_ act. Thus Taylor would maintain, that

to say the thing that is not to a madman, has the _matter_ of a lie,

but the man who says it as little tells a formal lie, as the judge,

sheriff, or executioner murders the man whom he certainly kills by

forms of law.

Other English authors take precisely the same view, viz. that

veracity is a kind of justice--that our neighbour generally has a

_right_ to have the truth told him; but that he may forfeit that

right, or lose it for the time, and then to say the thing that is not

to him is no sin against veracity, that is, no lie. Thus Milton says,

"Veracity is a virtue, by which we speak true things to him _to whom

it_ is equitable, and concerning what things it is suitable for the

_good of our neighbour_.... All dissimulation is not wrong, for it is

not necessary for us always openly to bring out the truth; that only

is blamed which is _malicious_.... I do not see why that cannot be

said of lying which can be said of homicide and other matters, which

are not weighed so much by the _deed_ as by _the object and end of

acting_. _What man in his senses will deny_ that there are those whom

we have the best of grounds for considering that we ought to

deceive--as boys, madmen, the sick, the intoxicated, enemies, men in

error, thieves? ...Is it a point of conscience not to deceive them?

... I would ask, by which of the commandments is a lie forbidden? You

will say, by the ninth. Come, read it out, and you will agree with

me. For whatever is here forbidden comes under the head of injuring

one's neighbour. If then any lie does _not_ injure one's neighbour,

certainly it is not forbidden by this commandment. It is on this

ground that, by the judgment of theologians, we shall acquit so many

holy men of lying. Abraham, who said to his servants that he would

return with his son; ... the wise man understood that it did not

matter to his servants to know [that his son would not return], and

that it was at the moment expedient for himself that they should not

know.... Joseph would be a man of many lies if the common definition

of lying held; [also] Moses, Rahab, Ehud, Jael, Jonathan." Here again

veracity is due only on the score of _justice_ towards the person

whom we speak with; and, if he has _no claim_ upon us to speak the

truth, we _need_ not speak the truth to him.

And so, again, Paley: "_A lie is a breach of promise_; for whoever

seriously addresses his discourse to another tacitly promises to

speak the truth, because he knows that the truth is expected. Or the

_obligation_ of veracity may be made out from the direct ill

consequences of lying to social happiness.... There are _falsehoods_

which are not _lies_; _that is, which are not criminal_." (Here, let

it be observed, is the same distinction as in Taylor between

_material_ and _formal_ untruths.) "1. When no one is deceived.... 2.

When the person to whom you speak has no _right_ to know the truth,

or, more properly, when little or no inconveniency results from the

want of confidence in such cases, as _where you tell a falsehood to a

madman_ for his own advantage; to a robber, to conceal your property;

to an assassin, to defeat or divert him from his purpose.... It is

upon this principle that, by the laws of war, it is allowable

to deceive an enemy by feints, false colours, spies, false

intelligence.... Many people indulge, in serious discourse, a habit

of fiction or exaggeration.... So long as ... their narratives,

though false, are _inoffensive_, it may seem a superstitious regard

to truth to censure them _merely for truth's sake_." Then he goes on

to mention reasons _against_ such a practice, adding, "I have seldom

known any one who deserted truth in trifles that could be trusted in

matters of importance."--Works, vol. iv. p. 123.

Dr. Johnson, who, if any one, has the reputation of being a sturdy

moralist, thus speaks:

"We talked," says Boswell, "of the casuistical question--whether it

was allowable at any time to depart from _truth_." Johnson. "The

general rule is, that truth should never be violated; because it is

of the utmost importance to the comfort of life, that we should have

a full security by mutual faith; and occasional inconveniences should

be willingly suffered, that we may preserve it. There must, however,

be some exceptions. If, for instance, a murderer should ask you which

way a man is gone, you may tell him what is not true, because you

are under a previous obligation not to betray a man to a murderer."

Boswell. "Supposing the person who wrote Junius were asked whether he

was the author, might he deny it?" Johnson. "I don't know what to say

to this. If you were _sure_ that he wrote Junius, would you, if he

denied it, think as well of him afterwards? Yet it may be urged, that

what a man has no right to ask, you may refuse to communicate; and

there is no other effectual mode of preserving a secret, and an

important secret, the discovery of which may be very hurtful to you,

but a flat denial; for if you are silent, or hesitate, or evade,

it will be held equivalent to a confession. But stay, sir; here is

another case. Supposing the author had told me confidentially that he

had written Junius, and I were asked if he had, I should hold myself

at liberty to deny it, as being under a previous promise, express or

implied, to conceal it. Now what I ought to do for the author, may I

not do for myself? But I deny the lawfulness of telling a lie to a

sick man for fear of alarming him. You have no business with

consequences; you are to tell the truth. Besides, you are not sure

what effect your telling him that he is in danger may have; it may

bring his distemper to a crisis, and that may cure him. Of all lying

I have the greatest abhorrence of this, because I believe it has been

frequently practised on myself."--Boswell's Life, vol. iv. p. 277.

There are English authors who allow of mental reservation and

equivocation; such is Jeremy Taylor.

He says, "In the same cases in which it is lawful to tell a lie, in

the same cases it is lawful to use a mental reservation."--Ibid. p.

374.

He says, too, "When the things are true in _several senses_, the not

explicating in _what sense_ I mean the words is not a criminal

reservation.... But 1, this liberty is not to be used by inferiors,

but by superiors only; 2, not by those that are interrogated, but by

them which speak voluntarily; 3, not by those which speak of duty,

but which speak of grace and kindness."--Ibid. p. 378.

Bishop Butler, the first of Anglican authorities, writing in his

grave and abstract way, seems to assert a similar doctrine in the

following passage:

"Though veracity, as well as justice, is to be our rule of life, it

must be added, otherwise a snare will be laid in the way of some

plain men, that the use of common forms of speech generally

understood, cannot be falsehood; and, in general, that there can be

no designed falsehood without designing to deceive. It must likewise

be observed, that, _in numberless cases, a man may be under the

strictest obligations to what he foresees will deceive, without his

intending it_. For _it is impossible not to foresee_, that the words

and actions of men in different ranks and employments, and of

different educations, _will perpetually be mistaken by each other_;

and it cannot but be so, whilst they will judge with the utmost

carelessness, as they daily do, _of what they are not perhaps enough

informed to be competent judges of_, even though they considered it

with great attention."--_Nature of Virtue_, fin. These last words

seem in a measure to answer to the words in Scavini, that an

equivocation is permissible, because "then we do not deceive our

neighbour, but allow him to deceive himself." In thus speaking, I

have not the slightest intention of saying anything disrespectful to

Bishop Butler; and still less of course to St. Alfonso.

And a third author, for whom I have a great respect, as different

from the above two as they are from each other, bears testimony to

the same effect in his "Comment on Scripture," Thomas Scott. He

maintains indeed that Ehud and Jael were divinely directed in what

they did; but they could have no divine direction for what was in

itself wrong.

Thus on Judges iii. 15-21:

"'And Ehud said, I have a secret errand unto thee, O king; I have

a message from God unto thee, and Ehud thrust the dagger into his

belly.' Ehud, indeed," says Scott, "had a secret errand, a message

from God unto him; _but it was of a far different nature than

Eglon expected_."

And again on Judges iv. 18-21:

"'And Jael said, Turn in, my lord, fear not. And he said to her,

When any man doth inquire, Is there any man here? thou shalt say,

No. Then Jael took a nail, and smote the nail into his temple.'

Jael," says Scott, "is not said to have promised Sisera that

she would deny his being there; she would give him shelter and

refreshment, but not utter a falsehood to oblige him."

Footnotes

[6] "Mendacium est petulanter, aut cupiditate nocendi, aliud loqui,

seu gestu significare, et aliud sentire."

[7] Mentiris ut medicus.

POSTSCRIPTUM

June 4, 1864

While I was engaged with these concluding pages, I received another

of those special encouragements, which from several quarters have

been bestowed upon me, since my controversy began. It was the

extraordinary honour done me of an address from the clergy of this

large diocese, who had been assembled for the Synod.

It was followed two days afterwards by a most gracious testimonial

from my Bishop, Dr. Ullathorne, in the shape of a letter which he

wrote to me, and also inserted in the Birmingham papers. With his

leave I transfer it to my own volume, as a very precious document,

completing and recompensing, in a way most grateful to my feelings,

the anxious work which has occupied me so fully for nearly ten

weeks.

"Bishop's House, June 2, 1864.

"My dear Dr. Newman,--It was with warm gratification that, after the

close of the Synod yesterday, I listened to the Address presented to

you by the clergy of the diocese, and to your impressive reply. But

I should have been little satisfied with the part of the silent

listener, except on the understanding with myself that I also might

afterwards express to you my own sentiments in my own way.

"We have now been personally acquainted, and much more than

acquainted, for nineteen years, during more than sixteen of which we

have stood in special relation of duty towards each other. This has

been one of the singular blessings which God has given me amongst the

cares of the Episcopal office. What my feelings of respect, of

confidence, and of affection have been towards you, you know well,

nor should I think of expressing them in words. But there is one

thing that has struck me in this day of explanations, which you could

not, and would not, be disposed to do, and which no one could do so

properly or so authentically as I could, and which it seems to me is

not altogether uncalled for, if every kind of erroneous impression

that some persons have entertained with no better evidence than

conjecture is to be removed.

"It is difficult to comprehend how, in the face of facts, the notion

should ever have arisen that, during your Catholic life, you have

been more occupied with your own thoughts than with the service of

religion and the work of the Church. If we take no other work into

consideration beyond the written productions which your Catholic pen

has given to the world, they are enough for the life's labour of

another. There are the Lectures on Anglican Difficulties, the

Lectures on Catholicism in England, the great work on the Scope

and End of University Education, that on the Office and Work of

Universities, the Lectures and Essays on University Subjects, and the

two Volumes of Sermons; not to speak of your contributions to the

Atlantis, which you founded, and to other periodicals; then there are

those beautiful offerings to Catholic literature, the Lectures on the

Turks, Loss and Gain, and Callista, and though last, not least, the

Apologia, which is destined to put many idle rumours to rest, and

many unprofitable surmises; and yet all these productions represent

but a portion of your labour, and that in the second half of your

period of public life.

"These works have been written in the midst of labour and cares of

another kind, and of which the world knows very little. I will

specify four of these undertakings, each of a distinct character, and

any one of which would have made a reputation for untiring energy in

the practical order.

"The first of these undertakings was the establishment of the

congregation of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri--that great ornament

and accession to the force of English Catholicity. Both the London

and the Birmingham Oratory must look to you as their founder and as

the originator of their characteristic excellences; whilst that of

Birmingham has never known any other presidency.

"No sooner was this work fairly on foot than you were called by the

highest authority to commence another, and one of yet greater

magnitude and difficulty, the founding of a University in Ireland.

After the Universities had been lost to the Catholics of these

kingdoms for three centuries, everything had to be begun from the

beginning: the idea of such an institution to be inculcated, the plan

to be formed that would work, the resources to be gathered, and the

staff of superiors and professors to be brought together. Your name

was then the chief point of attraction which brought these elements

together. You alone know what difficulties you had to conciliate and

what to surmount, before the work reached that state of consistency

and promise, which enabled you to return to those responsibilities in

England which you had never laid aside or suspended. And here, excuse

me if I give expression to a fancy which passed through my mind.

"I was lately reading a poem, not long published, from the MSS.

De Rerum Natura, by Neckham, the foster-brother of Richard the

Lion-hearted. He quotes an old prophecy, attributed to Merlin, and

with a sort of wonder, as if recollecting that England owed so much

of its literary learning to that country; and the prophecy says that

after long years Oxford will pass into Ireland--'Vada boum suo

tempore transibunt in Hiberniam.' When I read this, I could not

but indulge the pleasant fancy that in the days when the Dublin

University shall arise in material splendour, an allusion to this

prophecy might form a poetic element in the inscription on the

pedestal of the statue which commemorates its first Rector.

"The original plan of an oratory did not contemplate any parochial

work, but you could not contemplate so many souls in want of pastors

without being prompt and ready at the beck of authority to strain all

your efforts in coming to their help. And this brings me to the third

and the most continuous of those labours to which I have alluded. The

mission in Alcester Street, its church and schools, were the first

work of the Birmingham Oratory. After several years of close and hard

work, and a considerable call upon the private resources of the

Fathers who had established this congregation, it was delivered over

to other hands, and the Fathers removed to the district of Edgbaston,

where up to that time nothing Catholic had appeared. Then arose under

your direction the large convent of the Oratory, the church expanded

by degrees into its present capaciousness, a numerous congregation

has gathered and grown in it; poor schools and other pious

institutions have grown up in connection with it, and, moreover,

equally at your expense and that of your brethren, and, as I have

reason to know, at much inconvenience, the Oratory has relieved the

other clergy of Birmingham all this while by constantly doing the

duty in the poor-house and gaol of Birmingham.

"More recently still, the mission and the poor school at Smethwick

owe their existence to the Oratory. And all this while the founder

and father of these religious works has added to his other

solicitudes the toil of frequent preaching, of attendance in the

confessional, and other parochial duties.

"I have read on this day of its publication the seventh part of the

Apologia, and the touching allusion in it to the devotedness of the

Catholic clergy to the poor in seasons of pestilence reminds me that

when the cholera raged so dreadfully at Bilston, and the two priests

of the town were no longer equal to the number of cases to which they

were hurried day and night, I asked you to lend me two fathers to

supply the place of other priests whom I wished to send as a further

aid. But you and Father St. John preferred to take the place of

danger which I had destined for others, and remained at Bilston till

the worst was over.

"The fourth work which I would notice is one more widely known. I

refer to the school for the education of the higher classes, which at

the solicitation of many friends you have founded and attached to the

Oratory. Surely after reading this bare enumeration of work done, no

man will venture to say that Dr. Newman is leading a comparatively

inactive life in the service of the Church.

"To spare, my dear Dr. Newman, any further pressure on those feelings

with which I have already taken so large a liberty, I will only add

one word more for my own satisfaction. During our long intercourse

there is only one subject on which, after the first experience, I

have measured my words with some caution, and that has been where

questions bearing on ecclesiastical duty have arisen. I found some

little caution necessary, because you were always so prompt and ready

to go even beyond the slightest intimation of my wish or desires.

"That God may bless you with health, life, and all the spiritual

good which you desire, you and your brethren of the Oratory, is

the earnest prayer now and often of, my dear Dr. Newman, your

affectionate friend and faithful servant in Christ,

"+ W. B. ULLATHORNE."

End of Project Gutenberg's Apologia pro Vita Sua, by John Henry Newman