“Nay,” he continued, “it is allowable to prevent a buffet, by killing him that meant to give it, if there be no other way to escape the insult. This opinion is quite common with our fathers. For example, Azor, one of the four-and-twenty elders, proposing the question, ‘Is it lawful for a man of honor to kill another who threatens to give him a slap on the face, or strike him with a stick?’ replies, ‘Some say he may not; alleging that the life of our neighbor is more precious than our honor, and that it would be an act of cruelty to kill a man merely to avoid a blow. Others, however, think that it is allowable; and I certainly consider it probable, when there is no other way of warding off the insult; for, otherwise, the honor of the innocent would be constantly exposed to the malice of the insolent.’ The same opinion is given by our great Filiutius; by Father Hereau, in his Treatise on Homicide; by Hurtado de Mendoza, in his Disputations; by Becan, in his Summary; by our Fathers Flahaut and Lecourt, in those writings which the university, in their third petition, quoted at length, in order to bring them into disgrace (though in this they failed); and by Escobar. In short, this opinion is so general, that Lessius lays it down as a point which no casuist has contested; he quotes a great many that uphold, and none that deny it; and particularly Peter Navarre, who, speaking of affronts in general (and there is none more provoking than a box on the ear), declares that ‘by the universal consent of the casuists, it is lawful to kill the calumniator, if there be no other way of averting the affront—ex sententia omnium, licet contumeliosum occidere, si aliter ea injuria arceri nequit.’ Do you wish any more authorities?” asked the monk.
I declared I was much obliged to him; I had heard rather more than enough of them already. But just to see how far this damnable doctrine would go, I said, “But, father, may not one be allowed to kill for something still less? Might not a person so direct his intention as lawfully to kill another for telling a lie, for example?”
“He may,” returned the monk; “and according to Father Baldelle, quoted by Escobar, ‘you may lawfully take the life of another for saying, You have told a lie; if there is no other way of shutting his mouth.’ The same thing may be done in the case of slanders. Our Fathers Lessius and Hereau agree in the following sentiments: ‘If you attempt to ruin my character by telling stories against me in the presence of men of honor, and I have no other way of preventing this than by putting you to death, may I be permitted to do so? According to the modern authors, I may, and that even though I have been really guilty of the crime which you divulge, provided it is a secret one, which you could not establish by legal evidence. And I prove it thus: If you mean to rob me of my honor by giving me a box on the ear, I may prevent it by force of arms; and the same mode of defence is lawful when you would do me the same injury with the tongue. Besides, we may lawfully obviate affronts, and therefore slanders. In fine, honor is dearer than life; and as it is lawful to kill in defence of life, it must be so to kill in defence of honor.’ There, you see, are arguments in due form; this is demonstration, sir—not mere discussion. And, to conclude, this great man Lessius shows, in the same place, that it is lawful to kill even for a simple gesture, or a sign of contempt. ‘A man’s honor,’ he remarks, ‘may be attacked or filched away in various ways—in all which vindication appears very reasonable; as, for instance, when one offers to strike us with a stick, or give us a slap on the face, or affront us either by words or signs—sive per signa.’”
“Well, father,” said I, “it must be owned that you have made every possible provision to secure the safety of reputation; but it strikes me that human life is greatly in danger, if any one may be conscientiously put to death simply for a defamatory speech or a saucy gesture.”
“That is true,” he replied; “but as our fathers are very circumspect, they have thought it proper to forbid putting this doctrine into practice on such trifling occasions. They say, at least, ‘that it ought hardly to be reduced to practice—practicè vix probari potest.’ And they have a good reason for that, as you shall see.”
“Oh! I know what it will be,” interrupted I; “because the law of God forbids us to kill, of course.”
“They do not exactly take that ground,” said the father; “as a matter of conscience, and viewing the thing abstractly, they hold it allowable.”
“And why, then, do they forbid it?”
“I shall tell you that, sir. It is because, were we to kill all the defamers among us, we should very shortly depopulate the country. ‘Although,’ says Reginald, ‘the opinion that we may kill a man for calumny is not without its probability in theory, the contrary one ought to be followed in practice; for, in our mode of defending ourselves, we should always avoid doing injury to the commonwealth; and it is evident that by killing people in this way there would be too many murders.’ ‘We should be on our guard,’ says Lessius, ‘lest the practice of this maxim prove hurtful to the State; for in this case it ought not to be permitted—tunc enim non est permittendus.’”
“What, father! is it forbidden only as a point of policy, and not of religion? Few people, I am afraid, will pay any regard to such a prohibition, particularly when in a passion. Very probably they might think they were doing no harm to the State, by ridding it of an unworthy member.”