Chapter VIII — A comparison of the doctrine of certain more recent writers with the doctrine of Cassian, to whom lies were licit in extreme necessity, and of Augustine, who pronounces lies to be contrary in every event. The same cases, both proposed and resolved by Augustine, and by the contrary doctrine

I. Of the ancient writers who patronized lying, I will single out Cassian, above all others, who defended the cause of lying more fully than all the rest, and treated it at greater length. But the whole doctrine of Cassian, and of the other Fathers, is concluded within these limits: namely, that in extreme necessity — for instance, to protect one's own life, or a neighbor's — the use of a lie is lawful, just as the use of hellebore is lawful in the most extreme illnesses. He proposes the case of the woman Rahab, and says that her lie was worthy of pardon. Here are his words, from Collation XVII, ch. 17: "Lying is to be so felt, and so used, as though it had the nature of hellebore... For thus we read that even holy and most approved men of God made pardonable use of a lie, as did Rahab." Cassian manifestly does not assert that this lie was absolutely licit, but that it was pardonably uttered; or that the lie was worthy of pardon, since it was told for the good end of protecting the lives of three men. Wherefore Cassian did not absolutely teach that, even in these most extreme events, a lie is entirely innocent, and loses the nature and guilt of a lie; but that, of two evils, the lesser is to be chosen, and that one who employs an officious lie is worthy of pardon, so as to compensate for, or avoid, the greater harm which would follow from the manifestation of truth. Thus Cassian declares his own mind, in express words, ch. 20: "For then, necessarily, and pardonably, is acquiescence given to the detriment of a lie, when, as we have said, a greater loss from the confession of truth is imminent, and the utility conferred upon us by truth does not prevail to compensate for the harm that must be generated by it." This teaching of Cassian's moved even Augustine himself, who calls it a doctrine of compensatory sins.

II. The same case, among several others, of the woman Rahab, and the Hebrew midwives, Augustine proposes (Book Against Lying, ch. 15); he turns it over in every direction, and disapproves Cassian's teaching, and resolves that Rahab, and the Hebrew midwives, did not lie, but Rahab teaches, in these words: "He knows where I am; I will not betray him." Then he resolves and turns back upon his adversaries everything that can be objected against this response — namely, that the woman would have been slain, and that her fellow-citizens, given this answer, would have finally searched the whole house, and that innocent men would have been delivered to death. What, then, ought she to have answered, you will say — that they should search the house? "But would it necessarily have followed that, by telling the truth, they would have found even those whom she had so carefully hidden? For that most cautious woman had foreseen, and had placed them where they could be hidden, even if she had not been believed when she lied. And even she, if nonetheless she had been killed by her own fellow-citizens, for a work of mercy, would have ended that life by a death precious in the sight of the Lord, and her kindness toward them would not have been in vain. But you will say: what if, having come even to that place where she had hidden them, by searching everything, they had found them? It can be said in this way: what, if they had refused to believe that most vile and most shameful woman, whether lying or perjuring herself? Surely, then, too, those things would have come to pass which she, by lying, feared. And where do we place the will, and the power, of God? Could he not, perchance, have kept both her from lying to her fellow-citizens, and from betraying the men of God, and have kept those men of his safe from every peril?"

III. A wholly similar case more recent theologians also propose to themselves. Older theologians, among whom St. Thomas holds the chief place, respond, with Augustine, that the woman lied, and that all lie who, in a similar event, with Rahab, deny that guests, sought even unto death, are present in their own house, when in fact they are dwelling there. Most more recent writers, however, agree with Cassian on this, which is the head of the whole controversy. For Cassian teaches that Rahab was worthy of pardon for denying that guests were in her house; more recent writers likewise affirm that we can, and ought, to deny to an assassin seeking, for death, a guest present in our house, that such a guest is dwelling, or to be found, with us. They differ from Cassian, however, in that he calls Rahab's lie one pardonably uttered, or worthy of pardon; more recent writers, however, do not wish this aforesaid denial of the truth to be a lie, and assign various reasons. For some distinguish a twofold truth, and a twofold knowledge: one revealable, the other not revealable — or one communicable, the other incommunicable. They wish, accordingly, that truth, from whose manifestation the death of an innocent person follows, to be incommunicable, or not revealable; and therefore that the negation answering to it be true. Others teach that, in a similar case, words signify nothing, by the tacit consent of the commonwealth — so that a lie is not a lie, just as theft in extreme necessity is not theft.

IV. Another case Augustine proposes to himself (ch. 18, Against Lying) concerning a sick father, who, if he understood that his only and most beloved son had died, would himself also succumb to fate. "If he asks whether he lives — whose death you know — what will you answer, when, whatever else you say besides one of three things — that he is dead, or that he lives, or that you do not know — he understands nothing else than that you are unwilling to say that he is dead? It will avail just as much, even if in every way you keep silent. But of those three, two are false — that he lives, and that you do not know — and these cannot be said by you except by lying. But the one true thing, that is, that he is dead, if you say it, and the death of the troubled man follows, it will be cried out that he was killed by you." We have described Augustine's complete response above, ch. 2, n. 6, which, lest I repeat the same thing, I refer readers to consult there. Only this I add: that Augustine restricts this case so that no room is left either for equivocation, or for silence, or for evading with words. Whatever you say, besides one of these three things — that he lives, that you do not know, that he is dead — the sick father concludes his son's death. If you confess the truth, saying he is dead, the father, too, dies. If you say, "he lives," or "I do not know," you lie. Manifestly, however, to attest death — or rather, truth — Augustine concludes, and proves by many arguments, even though the father's death should follow.

V. Most more recent writers think altogether the contrary. For they wish that you can say, "he lives," or "I do not know," so that the sick man's death does not follow — since, in these extreme cases, in which the manifestation of truth produces most grave harm, when it cannot be concealed by an equivocal speech, they teach that it is to be concealed by a manifest denial, which either signifies nothing, or denies incommunicable truth, as we have indicated, and shall explain more fully below.

VI. Augustine, near the end of the Book Against Lying, namely ch. 21, which is the last, presents a case which both occurred then, and now not infrequently occurs, of an adulterous wife, provoked, and compelled by her husband, to remove suspicion of adultery by an oath... . So firm and constant was it, in the persuasion of the faithful of that time, that a husband could exact an oath from his wife, whereby she might deny adultery without perjury, that this was really committed, as an evident argument of innocence. For if they had believed, or suspected, that wives could lawfully deny it, and confirm by oath the denial of adultery committed, husbands would never have been accustomed to induce their wives to swear, believing that they could also perjure themselves. For it must be considered that men very often provoke to an oath their wives, of whose adultery they are suspicious — which they certainly would not do, unless they believed that even those who had not feared to commit adultery would fear to commit perjury. For indeed some unchaste women, who did not fear to deceive their husbands by illicit intercourse, feared to employ God deceitfully as a false witness to those same husbands whom they had deceived.

VII. This same case more recent writers propose to themselves, and very many respond that an adulteress can lawfully deny that she committed adultery, which she really did commit, and confirm her denial by a sacred oath. Sánchez (Bk. III, on the Decalogue, ch. 6, n. 40): "Thirteenth, an adulteress, asked by her husband whether she has committed adultery, can swear that she has not broken the marriage... Similarly, she can swear that she did not do it, understanding within herself: 'so that I would reveal it to you.'" Castropalao (tract. 14, disp. 1, punct. 5): "Thirteenth, a woman who has committed adultery can, under oath, deny that she committed it, understanding that she is not bound to disclose it." Sayr, Bonacina, and all defenders of purely mental restriction teach the same. If, then, those men who lived in Augustine's time were alive in our own age, they would falsely persuade themselves that their wives would not perjure themselves — since the theologians themselves teach that perjury, in these circumstances, is not only, but merely material, and consequently licit. Is such a doctrine consonant with Augustine's mind, and teaching, who, in express words, teaches the opposite of the adulteress! Let Francolino gather from this on what foundation he could so intrepidly break out into these words (Bk. II, Preface, Church, Benignity, disp. 7, n. 33): "You understand now, I think, that the example you have adduced favors me, and rather confirms what I have tried to show: that our more recent Casuists do not write from their own genius, but respond according to the teaching of the Fathers, where the Fathers went before, and according to a teaching not contrary to the Fathers, where the Fathers did not go before; but according to what the Fathers themselves would hand down, if they taught in this age — that is, if they acted as Casuists in the schools, and not as sacred Preachers in the pulpits of temples, as they mostly did, when they treated of morals: for they spoke less distinctly than when they wrote of faith." Without doubt, if the Fathers were Casuists, and taught in the schools of most Casuists, they would then teach less strictly, and would transform their minds and spirits to teach the laxities of many. Francolino adds that he praises only the most approved of more recent writers, not those whose luxuriant license in opining Alexander VII and Innocent XI most wisely condemned in their decrees. But, as we shall show elsewhere, among the most approved, and most worthy of every praise, he professes to hold those whose propositions the aforesaid Pontiffs disapproved. And indeed, not only to Francolino, but to me too, several are most approved who taught in the schools that purely mental restrictions were licit. But the distinction which this author places between the Fathers teaching in the schools, and the Fathers composing in the temples from the pulpit, the most wise Father Elizalde says is the origin, chiefly, not of a benignity inseparable from the charity of Christ, but of laxity. Indeed, Elizalde adds that this distinction is that of the Pharisees, who preached true doctrine from the pulpit in the temples, but in private schools disseminated false and erroneous opinions; and therefore Christ said, "Whatsoever they say, do"; but, in private schools, he says false things: and therefore this same Christ said: "Beware of the doctrines of the Pharisees." But of this most erudite, and most opportune, interpretation of Father Elizalde, we shall speak more fully in its own place. What we wish, only in passing, to indicate to Francolino by our own dissertation, is this only: that all this that he said tends solely to diminish the authority of the Fathers; for this very distinction of Fr. Francolino's the Lutherans and Calvinists devised, so as to reduce the authority of the Fathers to nothing. I would wish that Fr. Francolino had brought forward some document by which he might prove that the Fathers spoke more cautiously, or more distinctly, when they wrote of faith than when they wrote of morals. Does not one equally err who corrupts the doctrine of morals, as one who corrupts that of faith? Are those who fight against sins that conflict with morals invaded with any lesser zeal than those who fight against sins that conflict with faith? This praised distinction of Fr. Francolino's, then, is false, and — to speak as gently as possible — most injurious to the Fathers of the Church. For if they spoke less distinctly of morals than of faith, from this universal rule it is inferred that scarcely anything certain can be gathered from the Fathers in the matter of morals, since they spoke less distinctly, according to Francolino. But we shall show, in its own place, that the holy Fathers of the Church spoke both in matters of morals, and in controversies of faith, distinctly and clearly enough — although neither all the opinions which more recent Casuists have devised in the matter of morals, nor all the errors which heretics have forged against the dogmas of faith, are found expressly refuted in the Fathers. But the general doctrine is found in their works, by which we reject both the dogmas of faith, and the rules of morals, contrary to the Gospel. But, as I said, of this more fully elsewhere.

VIII. I could adduce many other cases, which are resolved by Augustine in this matter, altogether opposite to the doctrine by which more recent theologians resolve these same cases — several of whom do not seem to recede far from the ancient defenders of lying. Indeed, as it seems to me — saving their better judgment — some of them defend that lies, which they call material, can be confirmed by oath, and can be employed in those events in which those who defended lies scarcely at all used them. For Cassian, and the rest, said that the use of a lie was pardonably licit only for the protection of life, chastity, or something similar; not so for protecting domestic goods, wares, or honor — for the preservation of which our own Casuists teach that material lies, which to the ancients were formal, are licit. From these few things it appears that the fourth and sixth propositions described above, ch. 5, are true.