Essays, or discourses, vol. 2 (of 4)

by Benito Jerónimo Feijoo

LIII. I have always been amazed at, and have always condemned, the indulgence and toleration that lying people find in the world. I have already exclaimed against this practice in my Essay on the Impurity of Lying, and must beg leave to refer the reader thither for a more full discussion of the point; but it has occurred to me since I wrote that Essay, that it is probable, this toleration may have arisen from the great extension of the vice of lying; and that the number of those who find themselves interested in this indulgence, is much greater, than that of those who find themselves injured by it; and that perhaps they tolerate lying in one another, because the toleration is necessary and useful to both parties. If the sincere part of the world consists of but few people, they cannot, without being guilty of great rashness, attempt to wage war against the many; but they at least may remonstrate, and with temper complain of the disgust they receive, from the indulgence that is shewn to lying. I ingenuously confess for myself, that I look upon him as a man of but little sincerity, who hears a lie with much seeming composure, and without expressing any signs of his dislike of it; although I must confess at the time I say this, that a frank manifestation of our dislike of the practice, cannot so easily be shewn, unless it is to our equals or our inferiors.

LIV. There is a species of lie, that passes in the world for humour and pleasantry, which I would punish as a crime. Whenever there happens to be a person in company who is noted for being an exceeding credulous man, it frequently happens, that some one or other tells a very incredible story, for the sake of exposing the easy faith of such a person, and of shewing, how apt he is to swallow absurdities and improbabilities for truth. This is received as a piece of wit, and all the by-standers laugh and applaud the ingenuity and invention of him who told the lie, and they all regale themselves at the expence of the innocent credulous person. But I consider this as an abuse; for does the simple and easy credulity of any person give others a right to insult him? admitting that his excessive credulity proceeds from the scantiness of his understanding; are we peradventure only obliged to be civil to, and treat with urbanity, the discreet and the acute? If God has blessed you with more talents than another man, would it not be an insolent abuse of them, if you made that person an object of your scorn, and played upon him, and treated him with the same derision and contempt that you would treat a monkey? Would this be using him like your neighbour? Or would it be applying your talents to the end and purpose, for which God was pleased to endow you with them?

LV. But the truth is, that excessive credulity proceeds more from goodness of heart, than from want of discretion. I have seen men who were very simple, and at the same time very penetrating. The same rectitude of heart, which excites a man of simplicity of manners to conduct himself without deceit, inclines him to think, that other people conduct themselves upon the same principle. It often happens, that a lie is believed by one person because he is an ingenuous man; and discredited by another, because he is a simpleton. The case is, that the first, excited by the goodness of his disposition, sets himself about finding out grounds of probability for what he has heard, and by his penetration discovers such. The other, who is only influenced by the dictates of his malice, never seeks after any such thing; and although he should seek after it, his stupidity would not permit him to discover it.

LVI. I don’t know whether the story that is commonly told of St. Thomas Aquinas, which is, that he was made to believe there was an ox that could fly, be true or not, as likewise what was said about his going out very anxious to see the spectacle; but this I know, that the rebuke which was couched in the answer he gave to those who attempted to put that affront on his credulity, is well worthy of a St. Thomas; I say worthy of that great repository of excellent virtues, both moral and intellectual, and worthy also the generosity of heart, and exalted prudence, of that sublime genius. The answer was as follows: I could more easily be made to believe that there was an ox which could fly, than I could be made to believe, that mankind were capable of giving a lying relation of such a thing. What reproof could be more discreet than this! and what energy and delicacy is there contained in it! I esteem this sentence more, than I do any of those which the ancient Grecians have recorded of their wise men. The sublimity of it persuades me, that it was the legitimate child of St. Thomas’s brain, and of course I can have no doubt, but the story we have related was true. Thus we see, the greatest discretion is not incompatible with, but may be easily reconciled to, and brought to unite with the greatest simplicity.

SECT. XI.

Speakers of bold Truths.

LVII. As there are many people who behave with ill-breeding, from being addicted to relate falsehoods, so there are many others, who offend against the laws of urbanity by speaking ill-timed and uncivil truths. I mean to hint at those, who under pretence of undeceiving people, and of being their friends, out of time, and contrary to all the rules of decency, take the liberty of pointing out all their faults, and of speaking their opinion, both of them and their conduct. This is an act of barbarism, disguised under the veil of honest sincerity.

LVIII. We shall describe these people, by giving the character and behaviour of Philotimus. Philotimus is a man, who at all times is dinning in people’s ears the professions of his ingenuousness, and declaiming till he is out of breath against adulation. He is ever dwelling upon his immutable love of truth, which he uses as a sort of coupling, to all the insinuations he throws out against this or that person. He rudely tells a man his faults to his face, and then shelters himself under the pretence, that when an occasion presents itself for his doing it, he cannot refrain from speaking the truth, for all the gratifications and indulgences the world can afford. If he hears any person praised, be he absent or present, in whose conduct he conceives there is something reprehensible, he immediately gives vent to his spleen, and tells all he knows or has ever heard to that person’s prejudice, and reproaches those who have spoke well of him, with having flattered or been partial to him; and then immediately pleads his great love of truth, as a justification for what he has done.

LIX. What shall we say of such a man? We may venture to pronounce, that there is much more stuff about him, than is necessary to form either a fool or a rustic; and that he is an extravagant babbler, who in his conversation observes no order or bounds; that he is a rude, yea a very rude unpolished man, who does not understand the difference between servile adulation, and bare-faced effrontery. He being such a sort of man, why should those who hear him regard any thing he says? Or who can believe that he is capable of forming a just opinion of matters or things, who is so far infatuated as to overlook, or not attend to the maxims, which natural reason has so clearly dictated and pointed out? But if we were to admit that he does not err in the conception he forms of things, we must at least grant, that he errs in his mode of advancing his opinions, if he prefers them out of time, inopportunely, and without method. Has he peradventure a royal licence or patent, for being the superintendent or corrector of other men’s manners and conduct? But admitting for argument’s sake, that he is a man of as great veracity as he pretends to be, which by the way is what I very much doubt of; for my experience has convinced me, that if it does not apply to every individual, that fine sentence is most true and applicable to the bulk of mankind, which I have read somewhere, although I can’t remember in what author, and is as follows: Veritatem nulli frequentius lædunt, quam qui frequentius jactant. There are no people lie more frequently, than those who are always boasting of their veracity. I say, admitting that they are as sincere as they pretend to be, does their being men of veracity give them a right to go about cudgeling, and breaking the heads of all the world? Truth, according to the doctrine of St. Paul, is the beloved companion of charity: Charitas congaudet veritati; and should it then be used in a gross manner, and so as to become offensive and disgusting? The truth of the Christians, according to the description given of it by St. Austin, is more beautiful than the Helen of the Greeks: Incomparabiliter pulchrior est veritas Christianorum, quam Helena Græcorum; and should it appear, or be characterised with so brasen a face, that it abashes and stares every body out of countenance?

LX. I confess that there are occasions, on which every man is obliged to speak the truth, although his doing it should offend, or be attended with the resentment of those who hear him; but this licence should only be taken in one of the three following instances, the vindication of divine honour, the defence of accused innocence, and the reforming or reclaiming your neighbour; and I suppose this last is the only motive, from which the speakers of bold truths we have just been describing pretend to act; but are they ignorant, that, although it will always be sure to give offence, their manner of attempting this, can never accomplish the reformation they affect to bring about? Nor can it be otherwise, for how can their sour, overbearing, and arrogant behaviour, produce so good an effect? Or how can they expect, according to the scripture phrase, that by sowing thorns, they should hereafter gather a harvest of grapes?