Chapter III — A compendious narration of everything that St. Augustine writes in his Book on Lying

I. We have already indicated, in the preceding chapter, that, before Augustine's time, several authors defended as licit the use of lying in extreme necessity, for the preservation of human life, or the warding off of some other grave harm. Cassian, above all others, left no stone unturned to fortify this opinion with the authority of Scripture. St. Augustine, on the contrary, snatched the palm from all the impugners of lying. He proposes to himself all the arguments, or cases, of his adversaries, and, with the utmost acuteness of his own genius, discusses and turns them over, so that nothing is left untouched, nothing unresolved. Indeed, he himself devised all those objections, all those events, paradoxes, and sophisms, which more recent theologians treat, so as to show that lying can be favored, and all those same difficulties, lest he pass over anything. And, since I have judged it worth the effort to set before the eyes of readers the disputation of so great a Father, so that they may gather from this how far Augustine's teaching differs from more recent inventions — Augustine wrote this Book on Lying around the year 395, as the Benedictine Fathers observe. All, then, that is contained in this Book I will transcribe here, reduced to a compendium with such brevity as I am able. The proem of this Book begins with these words:

II. "Great is the question concerning lying, which often disturbs us in our own daily actions — lest we either rashly accuse of lying what is not a lie, or judge that one must sometimes lie for some honorable, officious, and merciful reason." Then (ch. 1), the state of the controversy having been set forth, and jesting words, whose signification is plain to all, being excluded (ch. 2) from the present question, he observes (ch. 3) that neither does one who asserts something false always lie, nor is one who states something true always free of a lie. For one is not guilty of lying who, uttering a falsehood, reckons it to be true. On the contrary, he is held a liar who speaks the truth, thinking it false. Wherefore he lies who, having something else in his mind, states, in words, or by whatever signification, what he reckons false. Ch. 4 inquires what act it behooves the whole Book to treat: namely, whether he who lies ought always to have the intention of deceiving; he there discusses other difficulties as well. Ch. 5 asks whether one may sometimes lie. Those who defend this oppose the examples of Sarah, of Jacob, and of the Egyptian midwives. They add the most grave inconveniences which sometimes follow upon the manifestation of some truth — such as death, and the affliction of the sick, who cannot be freed except by a lie — relying on which words, and on those examples adduced from the Old Testament, they answer that it is unlawful for anyone who thinks well [of a matter] to be manifested. On the contrary, those who hold that the ancient Fathers did not lie argue more forcibly from divine examples, that in every event to lie...

[several lines here in the source are too faint to reliably transcribe; the discussion continues concerning whether examples like Abraham's servant provide precedent for lying]

...examples are found which provoke to the imitation of lying. But the dissimulation of Peter, and of Barnabas, was not only not commended, but even censured, and corrected. From the guilt of this dissimulation he shows Paul to be immune, when he circumcised Timothy — where he brings forward much in Paul's defense.

III. The inconveniences, moreover, which they object would follow from the revelation of truth (ch. 6), the impugners of lying count as nothing. For, directing their mind to the divine Scripture, which threatens, "The mouth that lieth killeth the soul," they reckon it a perversion of order, to destroy one's own soul, so that another may live bodily. Nor does charity urge this, which bids us to love our neighbor as ourselves, not more than ourselves. For if he departs from the right order who seeks temporal death for another's bodily life, how much more does he exceed the rule of sound doctrine, who loses his own eternal life for another's temporal one? Those, however, who rage and are indignant, if someone is unwilling to destroy his own soul by a lie, so that another may live longer in the flesh — what if it be by our own theft, what if by adultery, that another might be freed from death? Is anyone bound to corrupt his own soul by a lie, so that another may live in the body? It is absurd. Therefore neither theft nor adultery is to be committed, however much it might free someone from death. What, if a man bears a noose, that another may be strangled, unless it is granted to him what he seeks — must one assent to it? What, if a ravisher demands debauchery, affirming that he will kill a man, unless it is conceded to him — will he then be a nefarious murderer? Therefore, in this question, nothing is to be attended to, except whether lying is, by its own nature, iniquitous. Since this has already been shown above, it will be the same as to ask whether, for another's salvation, one ought to be unjust, as if one were to ask whether, for another's soul's health, which cannot be preserved except by equity, one ought oneself to be unjust. But if he rejects this, so that not only another's, but even our own, temporal welfare we must prefer to it — who could call it into doubt that one must never lie at all?

IV. Since, however (ch. 7), chastity of body is itself more precious than life, it can be asked whether a man may rightly use a lie, by which he might avoid the loss of chastity — as if a ravisher should rush in, who might be avoided by a lie. It is easily answered that there is no chastity of body, unless it depends on integrity of mind; which being disrupted, the former must necessarily fall, even if it seems untouched. In no way, then, does the mind corrupt itself by a lie for the sake of its body, which it knows remains incorrupt, if incorruption does not depart from the mind itself. For what the body suffers by violence, without preceding lust, is to be called vexation rather than corruption. Not every corruption is shameful; but there is corruption there, if lust has consented. But, however excellent the mind is above the body, so much the more wickedly is it corrupted. Chastity, then, can be preserved wherever no voluntary corruption of the mind can occur, unless someone has procured it, or consented to it. For certainly, if a ravisher has assailed a body which can be resisted neither by force, nor avoided by any counsel, or lie, it must be confessed that chastity is not violated by another's lust. Wherefore, since no one doubts that the soul is better than the body, integrity of mind is to be preferred to integrity of body, which can be preserved in eternity. But who would say that the mind of a liar is integral? For lust itself is rightly defined as an appetite of the mind by which temporal goods are preferred to eternal ones. No one, then, can prove that one must ever lie, unless he can show that some eternal good can be obtained by a lie. But since each one departs from eternity as much as he departs from truth, and it is most absurd to say that one who lies, departing from truth, can, by so departing, arrive at some good — or, if there is such a good, whatever was not fulfilled will not be true, and therefore not good either, since it is false. Just as, then, mind is to be preferred to body, so too is truth to mind, since the mind ought to desire it not only more than the body, but even more than itself. If, however, Lot, being so just that he deserved even to receive Angels as guests, offered his daughters to be ravished by the Sodomites, so that the bodies of women rather than of men might be corrupted by them — how much more diligently, and constantly, ought chastity of mind be preserved in truth, since the male body is truly to be preferred to the female body?

V. Hence anyone may gather that one ought not to lie even with the intention of attaining eternal salvation; indeed he adds (ch. 8) that the door of eternal salvation is closed, if an entrance is opened by a lie. For the first foundation of salvation is faith. This surely wavers, if it is once granted that it is lawful for good men to lie. For how is one to be believed who thinks that one must sometimes lie? For he can lie even then, when he bids himself to be believed. For how can it be known whether he then also has some cause, as he himself thinks, for a false narration by way of officious lying — and this in such a way that even a man terrified could be restrained from lust by this means, or must be believed even in spiritual matters, judging that he consults his own interest by lying? Wherefore, either it is not to be believed that good men lie sometimes, or it is not to be believed that they are good, of whom we believe that they must sometimes lie. Of these three, the first is pernicious, the second foolish. It remains, then, that good men never lie.

VI. Thus this question (ch. 9), considered and treated from both sides, is nonetheless not a judgment easily to be rendered; but those are still to be diligently heard who say that nothing is so ill done that it must not be done in avoidance of something worse. Now it pertains to the deeds of men not only whatever they do, but also whatever, with consent, they suffer. Whence, if a case arose that a Christian man should choose to burn incense to idols, rather than consent to debauchery, which the persecutor threatened him with unless he did so — they seem rightly to ask why he should not likewise avoid the latter turpitude. That consent, by which he preferred to suffer debauchery rather than burn incense to idols, they say is not a passion but a deed: for, that he might not do this, he chose to burn incense. He answers, that if such consent is to be reckoned a deed, then those too are murderers who preferred to be killed rather than to bear false witness. Consent, therefore, is not to be called such, whenever we do not approve what is done to us; indeed, so far as it is in us, we forbid it to be done. He, then, erred, who, to prevent others from sinning against his body, burned incense to idols. But they reply: How is it not done with them, if, had they not done this, you would have done that? Augustine answers, that in this way we would be said to break down the door along with the housebreakers, if, by not shutting it, we did not prevent them from breaking it down. He proposes the question more precisely: ought he, then, to have suffered debauchery rather than burn incense? If you ask what he ought to have done, he ought to have done neither. For if I say he ought to have done one of these, I would approve one of them, whereas I condemn both. But if it is asked which of these he ought rather to have avoided, since he could not avoid both, but could avoid one or the other, I will answer: his own sin, rather [than to avoid another's]. Indeed, his own lighter sin is to be avoided rather than another's grave one. Finally, he concludes that the knot of the question turns on this: namely, whether a lie ceases to be a sin, when someone uses it to guard bodily chastity.

VII. If the discourse concerns pernicious lies, which injure another's reputation, Augustine answers (ch. 10) that it is never lawful for us to obscure another's good name, so as to prevent, whether of our own or of another's body, a rape, or other such evils, or graver ones, to be avoided — just as it is likewise never lawful to lie in a matter of religion. Indeed, one must not lie even in the doctrine of religion, so that someone might be more easily led to it. For, once the authority of truth is broken, or even lightly diminished, all things will remain in doubt — which, unless believed true, cannot be held as certain.

VIII. This being firmly established, the discussion concerning other lies proceeds more safely (ch. 11). And so all lies which unjustly harm someone are to be removed, just as also those which, although they do not harm another, nonetheless profit no one, not even the liars themselves. Finally, those lies too are to be avoided which are called jesting, which liars therefore employ, so that they may please men, and render human conversation more pleasant.

IX. These kinds having been condemned without any doubt, the discourse (ch. 12) returns to officious lies, which harm no one, but profit someone. Concerning this kind of lie the whole controversy turns on this: namely, whether these lies harm him who utters them, so that they may profit another; and whether the harm which the liar suffers is compensated by the good which the lie obtains. He answers that a lie is never lawful, even if it harms no one, and profits someone: otherwise it would be lawful to steal a measure of wheat from a rich man, abounding in superfluous wealth, to give to a poor man, who would experience great advantage, since the rich man would feel no detriment; it would then also be lawful to bear false witness to conceal the poor man's theft. What could be said more perverse than this? But since it could be replied that this lie is therefore unlawful, because by it another's sin is concealed, it is consequently asked whether it is lawful to lie, when the lie harms no one, benefits someone, and conceals no sin. He answers: If, for this reason, we do not sin in lying, because we harm no one, and benefit someone, why do we not, on the same principle, examine the sin of lying itself when we say a false thing to conceal someone's sin, and thereby benefit and harm no one? Is it not lawful to conceal a sin? Where it is written, "Thou shalt not steal," is it not also written there, "Thou shalt not bear false witness"? Is it, then, lawful to conceal a sin, and yet not lawful to commit one? Or perhaps it is not false witness, except when someone lies in such a way as either to fabricate a crime against someone, or to conceal someone's crime, or in some way to oppress someone in judgment? If this is so, what then, if a murderer takes refuge with a Christian, or that Christian sees where he takes refuge, and is questioned about this matter by one who, seeking the man for punishment, is the slain man's avenger — must one lie? Or is it evil to lie to conceal another's sin, but not evil to lie to conceal the sinner? What, if, led before a judge concerning the very place where he is hiding, or where you know he is hiding, you are questioned? Will you say: I do not know, and I did not see what you know, and did see? You will, then, bear false witness, and destroy your own soul, so that the murderer not be destroyed. Should you, then, being led to death, being innocent, where you know a murderer to be hiding, knowingly answer to a judge who, though commanded by a greater power to seize him for death, yet is only the executor of the law, not its author? Will it not be false witness, because you lie for the innocent, since it is not the judge, but the executor of the law, who asks? What, if the lawgiver himself asks, or some other unjust judge, seeking an innocent man for punishment? What will you do? A false witness, or will you be a betrayer? Or will you remain doubtful between the crime of false witness and of betrayal? How much more strongly, then, how much more excellently, will you say: I will not betray, nor will I lie. This a certain Bishop of the Church of Tagaste, named Firmus, once did — firmer still in will than in name. Why should not we do the same, both before a judge, and outside judgment, that we may fulfill what is written: "Thou shalt not bear false witness," and avoid that punishment: "Thou wilt destroy all that speak a lie"? Sometimes, however, we are asked, not where he is, but whether he is, or is not, concealed in that place. Where, if we know he is, by keeping silent we betray him; or even if we testify that we will by no means say whether he is there or not, we equally betray him, as if we pointed to him with a finger. In this article, then, you ought to answer thus: He knows where he is; I will never show it; I will not lie here. This alone is a fitting response to distract the mind of the questioner elsewhere, and to turn it away from the place where the innocent man lies concealed. Then, indeed, whatever you suffer, so as not to betray him, will be shown to be not only blameless, but even praiseworthy.

X. This much has been said, so that (ch. 14) it is plain that seven kinds of lying have thus far been sufficiently discussed. It remains now to speak of the eighth, and last, kind. This lie, he says, is when we lie to protect our chastity of body from another's violence. But before he renders judgment on this kind of lie, he undertakes to unfold, with a more severe examination, the testimonies of Scripture which condemn such lies. This is mature, and severe. He begins this discussion at ch. 15, and carries it on to ch. 19. He weighs the various interpretations by which the defenders of each opinion accommodated the texts of the divine Scriptures to their own opinion. From all these, weighed with the utmost diligence, he gathers this: that no one can show, from the divine Scriptures, that any lie is found which either ought to be loved, or ought not to be held in hatred, but is sometimes to be done, as something which you hate (ch. 18), so that what is more to be detested may be avoided. But men err in this, that they set precious things beneath baser ones. For, when you have granted that some evil is to be admitted, lest another, graver, be committed — not by the rule of truth, but by his own desire and custom, does each one measure the evil, and reckons that graver which he himself more shrinks from, not that which is truly more to be fled. This whole vice is born from a perversity of love. For since there are two lives of ours — one everlasting, which is divinely promised to us; the other temporal, in which we now live — when anyone begins to love this temporal life more than that everlasting one, he thinks no sins graver than those which take away this life, or take away from it some advantage unjustly, or wholly deprive one of life by death. And so men hate thieves, and robbers, more than the lascivious, the drunken, the luxurious, the abusive, and torturers, and murderers, if these inflict no injury upon them. But against all these are set opposite rules, which truth prescribes for us to be kept. This teaches us bravely and prudently to endure those sins which take away from us the goods of the body, and are not impeded from eternal life; for those alone sin who take them away, and those who suffer the loss of them scarcely sin at all. But whatever things are preserved for the sake of sanctity and religion, when those who wish to do injury attempt to violate them, are to be retained even at the cost of lesser sins — not, however, of injuries to others — if a condition is proposed, and the opportunity given. And then those sins already cease to be sins, which are undertaken for the avoidance of graver ones.

XI. Moreover, these are the things (ch. 19) which ought to be preserved by our free consent, for the sake of sanctity: chastity of body, chastity of mind, truth of doctrine. Chastity of body is not violated without our consent. For whatever happens to our body against our will, a greater force prevailing, is no impurity; and there can be some reason for permitting it, but none for consenting to it. Chastity of mind, however, consists in a sincere delight, which is not corrupted, except when we love, and desire, what truth teaches ought not to be loved, and desired. A sincere love of God, and of neighbor, is therefore to be guarded: for in this, chastity of mind is sanctified. But the truth of doctrine, of religion, and of piety, is not violated by a lie. The truth of doctrine, then, is to be guarded with the utmost care from lying, so that, if chastity of mind should be violated, it may have a source from which it can be repaired: since, once the authority of doctrine is corrupted, there can be no course, or recourse, to chastity of mind.

XII. Chastity of mind is guarded by sincerity of speech: which, even if it is less violated, when someone lies to guard chastity of body, is nonetheless violated, and that which is to be preserved in the chastity and sanctity of the mind is also violated. Whence we are compelled to know beforehand, not by the opinion of men, which is generally in error, but by truth itself, which is most invincible, that the sincerity, fidelity, or truthful speech of the mind excels above the chastity of the body, and is united with it. Chastity of mind is an ordered love, not subjecting greater things to lesser ones. For less can be violated in the body than whatever can be violated in the mind. When someone does violence to your body, you see that it is not your own, but another's, lust that breaks in. Beware, nonetheless, lest, by consenting, you become a participant: for bodily chastity is in no way corrupted, unless it is violated in... the mind, which not consenting, in no way is bodily chastity corrupted, whatever has been perpetrated on the body by another's lust. Wherefore, so far as it is in us, both are to be fortified and hedged about with holy morals, and wisdom, lest they be violated from without. But when both cannot be kept, but one or the other is subject to the danger of loss, no one fails to see that, in matters of sin, chastity of mind is to be preferred to chastity of body, and one's own fault is to be avoided rather than another's.

XIII. Let it be asked, then (ch. 21), whether, all the testimonies of Scripture having been discussed, it remains established that one must never, absolutely, lie at all. Since no examples of lies worthy of imitation will be found in the morals and deeds of the Saints, so far as it concerns those Scriptures which are historical narratives referred to no figurative signification, such as are the deeds recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. All the words and deeds of the Lord in the Gospel, which to the less experienced seem to be lies, are figurative significations. Never, then, is one to lie — since, of the eight kinds of lies already recounted, not one is licit. Whoever, however, shall think that some kind of lying is not a sin, will shamefully deceive himself, since he will consider himself an honest deceiver of others.