POSTSCRIPTUM

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 thenecessityof 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, theMélanges, 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 anexceptionoccurs to the general law of not speaking untruly, viz. when it is impossible to observe a certain other precept, more important,withouttelling a lie. Some persons indeed say, that in the cases of impossibility which are above drawn out, what is said isnota 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 speakscontra 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 theMélanges Théologiques: "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 thenlying is to be understood to besomething 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.' Forin this sensea lie is naturally orintrinsicallyevil; that is, to speak a lieto our neighbouris naturally evil ...notbecause it is different from an eternal truth.... A lie is aninjuryto our neighbour.... There is in mankind a universalcontractimplied in all their intercourses....In justicewe are bound to speak, so as that our neighbour do not lose hisright, which by our speaking we give him to the truth, that is, in our heart. And of a lie,thus defined, which isinjuriousto our neighbour, so long as hisrightto 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 beunjust, it can never become lawful; but,if it can be separate from injustice, then it may beinnocent. Here then I consider

"This right, though it be regularly and commonly belonging to all men, yet it may betaken awayby 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 theirrights, andwere 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 norightto truth; but then,the lie must be charitable and useful....If a lie be told, it must be such as isfor 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 aharmless 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....Everytruth is no morejustice, 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....Deceivingthe enemy by the stratagem of actions orwords, isnot properly lying; for this supposes a conversation, of law or peace, trust orpromiseexplicit or implicit. A lie is a deceiving of atrust 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 isnot reallya lie, as he says in one place, "Deceiving the enemy isnot properlylying." Here he seems to make that distinction common to Catholics; viz. between what they call amaterialact and aformalact. Thus Taylor would maintain, that to say the thing that is not to a madman, has thematterof 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 arightto 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 himto whom itis equitable, and concerning what things it is suitable for thegood 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 ismalicious.... 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 thedeedas bythe object and end of acting.What man in his senses will denythat 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 doesnotinjure 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 ofjusticetowards the person whom we speak with; and, if he hasno claimupon us to speak the truth, weneednot 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 theobligationof veracity may be made out from the direct ill consequences of lying to social happiness.... There arefalsehoodswhich are notlies;that is, which are not criminal." (Here, let it be observed, is the same distinction as in Taylor betweenmaterialandformaluntruths.) "1. When no one is deceived.... 2. When the person to whom you speak has norightto know the truth, or, more properly, when little or no inconveniency results from the want of confidence in such cases, aswhere you tell a falsehood to a madmanfor 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, areinoffensive, it may seem a superstitious regard to truth to censure themmerely for truth's sake." Then he goes on to mention reasonsagainstsuch 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 fromtruth." 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 weresurethat 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 inseveral senses, the not explicating inwhat senseI 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. Forit 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."

[6] "Mendacium est petulanter, aut cupiditate nocendi, aliud loqui, seu gestu significare, et aliud sentire."

[7] Mentiris ut medicus.

[7] Mentiris ut medicus.

POSTSCRIPTUMJune 4, 1864

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."


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