[41] Satapatha-Brâhmana, iii. 2. 2. 24.
[42] Darmesteter, Ormazd et Ahriman, p. 78. Geiger, Civilization of the Eastern Irānians, pp. lvii., 164. Spiegel, Erânische Alterthumskunde, iii. 685.
[43] Darmesteter, in Sacred Books of the East, xxiii. 168.
[44] Iliad, iv. 235.
[45] Plato, Respublica, ii. 382.
[46] Fowler, Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic, pp. 141, 229 sq.
[47] Cicero, De officiis, iii. 29. Idem, De natura deorum, ii. 23; iii. 18. Idem, De legibus, ii. 8, 11. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Antiquitates Romanæ, ii. 75.
Apart from the circumstances which in some cases make gods vindicators of the moral law in general, as conceived of by their worshippers, there are quite special reasons for their disapproval of insincerity and bad faith. Here again we notice the influence of magic beliefs on the religious sanction of morality.
There is something uncanny in the untrue word itself. As Professor Stanley Hall points out, children not in frequently regard every deviation from the most painfully literal truth as alike heinous, with no perspective or degrees of difference between the most barefaced intended and unintended lies. In some children this fear of telling an untruth becomes so neurotic that to every statement, even to yes or no, a “perhaps” or “I think” is added mentally, whispered, or aloud. One boy had a long period of fear that, like Ananias and Sapphira, he might some moment drop down dead for a chance and perhaps unconscious lie.[48] On the other hand, an acted lie is felt to be much less harmful than a spoken one; to point the wrong way when asked where some one is gone is less objectionable than to speak wrongly, to nod is less sinful than to say yes. Indeed, acted lies are for the most part easily gotten away with, whereas some mysterious baneful energy seems to be attributed to the spoken untruth. That its evil influence is looked upon as quite mechanical appears from the palliatives used for it. Many American children are of opinion that a lie may be reversed by putting the left hand on the right shoulder and that even an oath may be neutralised or taken in an opposite sense by raising the left instead of the right hand.[49] Among children in New York “it was sufficient to cross the fingers, elbows, or legs, though the act might not be noticed by the companion accosted, and under such circumstances no blame attached to a falsehood.”[50] To think “I do not mean it,” or to attach to a statement a meaning quite different from the current one, is a form of reservation which is repeatedly found in children.[51] Nor are feelings and ideas of this kind restricted to the young; they are fairly common among grown-up people, and have even found expression in ethical doctrines. They lie at the root of the Jesuit theory of mental reservations. According to Thomas Aquinas, again, though it is wrong to tell a lie for the purpose of delivering another from any danger whatever, it is lawful “to hide the truth prudently under some dissimulation, as Augustine says.”[52] It is not uncommonly argued that in defence of a secret we may not “lie,” that is, produce directly beliefs contrary to facts; but that we may “turn a question aside,” that is, produce indirectly, by natural inference from our answer, a negatively false belief; or that we may “throw the inquirer on a wrong scent,” that is, produce similarly a positively false belief.[53] This extreme formalism may no doubt to some extent be traced to the influence of early training. From the day we learned to speak, the duty of telling the truth has been strenuously enjoined upon us, and the word “lie” has been associated with sin of the blackest hue; whereas other forms of falsehood, being less frequent, less obvious, and less easy to define, have also been less emphasised. But after full allowance is made for this influence, the fact still remains that a mystic efficacy is very commonly ascribed to the spoken word. Even among ourselves many persons would not dare to praise their health or fortune for fear lest some evil should result from their speech; and among less civilised peoples much greater significance is given to a word than among us. Herodotus, after mentioning the extreme importance which the ancient Persians attached to the duty of speaking the truth, adds that they held it unlawful even “to talk of anything which it is unlawful to do.”[54] I think, then, we may assume that, if for some reason or other, falsehood is stigmatised, the mysterious tendency inherent in the word easily develops into an avenging power which, as often happens in similar cases, is associated with the activity of a god.
[48] Stanley Hall, ‘Children’s Lies,’ in American Journal of Psychology, iii. 59 sq.