 CHAPTER 88 DEFAMATION A good name is, after the grace of God, man's most precious possession. Wealth is mere trash compared with it. You may find people who think otherwise, but the universal sentiment of mankind stigmatizes such baseness and buries it under the weight of its approbrium. Nor is it impossible that honor be paid where a good character no longer exists, but this is accidental. In the nature of things, reputation is the basis of all honor. If you destroy character, you destroy at the same time its fruit, which is honor. Thus will be seen the double malice of defamation. To defame, therefore, is to lessen or to annul the estimation in which a person is held by his fellow men. This crime may be perpetrated in two different manners. By making known his secret faults, and this is simple detraction, and by ascribing to him faults of which he is innocent, and this is calamity or slander. Thus it appears that a man's character may suffer from truth as well as from falsehood. Truth is an adorable thing, but it has its time and place. The fact of its being truth does not prevent it from being harmful. On the other hand, a lie which is evil in itself becomes abominable when used to malign a fellow man. There is one mitigating and two aggravating forms of defamation. Gossip is small talk, idle and sufficiently discolored to make its subject appear in an unfavorable light. It takes a morbid pleasure in speaking of the known and public faults of another. It picks at little things and furnishes a steady occupation for people who have more time to mind other people's business than their own. It bespeaks smallness in intellectual makeup and general pusillanimity. That is about all the harm there is in it, and that is enough. Lible supposes a wide diffusion of defamatory matter, written or spoken. Its malice is great because of its power for evil and harm. Tail-bearing or backbiting is what the name implies. Its object is principally to spread discord, to cause enmity, to break up friendships. It may have an ulterior purpose, and these are the means it employs. No limit can be set to its capacity for evil. Its malice is especially infernal. It is not necessary that what we do or say of a defamatory nature result, as a matter of fact, in bringing one's name into disfavor or disrepute. It is sufficient that it be of such a nature and have such a tendency. If by accident the venomous shaft spend itself before retaining the intended mark, no credit is due therefore to him who shot it. His guilt remains what it was when he sped it on its way. Nor is there justification in the plea that no harm was meant, that the deed was done in a moment of anger, jealousy, etc., that it was the result of locosity, indulged in for the simple pleasure of talking. These are excuses that excuse not. There are those who, speaking in disparagement of the neighbor, speak to the point directly and plainly. Others, no less guilty, do it in a covert manner, have recourse to subterfuge and insinuation. They exaggerate faults and make them appear more odious. They put an evil interpretation on the deed or intention. They keep back facts that would improve the situation. They remain silent when silence is condemnatory. They praise with a malignant praise. A mean sarcastic smile or a significant reticence often does the work better than many words and phrases. And all this, as we have said, independently of the truth or falsehood of the impression conveyed. Listeners share the guilt of the defamers on the principle that the receiver is as bad as a thief. This supposes, of course, that you listen, not merely hear, that you enjoy this sort of a thing, and are willing and ready to receive the impression derogatory to the neighbor's esteem and good name. Of course, if mere curiosity makes us listen, and our pleasure and amusement are less at the expense of the neighbor's good name than excited by the style of the narrator or the singularity of the facts alleged, the fault is less. But fault there nevertheless is, since such an attitude serves to encourage the traduser and helps him drive his points home. Many sin who could and should prevent excesses of this kind, but refrain from doing so. Their sin is greater if, by reason of their position, they are under greater obligations of correction. Although reputation is a priceless boon to all men, there are cases wherein it has an especial value on account of the peculiar circumstances of a man's position. It not infrequently happens that the whole success of a man's life depends on his good name. Men in public life, in the professions, religious and others similarly placed, suffer from defamation far more than those in the ordinary walks of life, and naturally those who injure them are guilty of more grievous wrong. And it goes without saying that a man can stand any moralist version better than a woman. In all cases the malice is measured by the injury done or intended. End of Chapter 88 Defamation Chapter 89 of Explanation of Catholic Morals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Bruce Kachuk Explanation of Catholic Morals by John H. Stapleton Chapter 89 Detraction To absolve oneself of the sin of detraction on the ground that nothing but the truth was spoken is, as we have seen, one way of getting around a difficulty that is no way at all. Some excuses are better than none, others are not. It is precisely the truth of such talk that makes it detraction. If it were not true, it would not be detraction but calamity, another and a very different fault. It would be well for such people to reflect for a moment and ask themselves if their own character would stand the strain of having their secret sins and failings subjected to public criticism and censure. Their private shortcomings heralded from every housetop. Would they or would they not consider themselves injured by such revelations? Then it would be in order for them to use the same rule and measure in dealing with others. He who does moral evil offends in the sight of God and forfeits God's esteem and friendship, but it does not follow that he should also forfeit the esteem of his fellow men. The latter evil is nothing compared with the first, but it is a great misfortune, nevertheless. If a man's private iniquity is something that concerns himself and his God to the exclusion of all others, then whosoever presumes to judge and condemn him trespasses on forbidden ground and is open to judgment and condemnation himself before his maker. All do not live in stone mansions who throw stones. If there is a moat in the neighbor's eye, perhaps there is a very large piece of timber in your own. Great zeal in belaboring the neighbor for his faults will not lessen your own, nor make you appear an angel of light before God when you are something very different. If you employed the same zeal towards yourself, you would obtain more consoling results, for charity begins at home. One learns more examining one's own conscience than dissecting and flaying others alive. It may be objected that since detraction deals with secret sins, if the facts related are a public notoriety, there is no wrong in speaking of them, for you cannot vilify one who was already vilified. This is true, and then again it depends. First, these faults must be a public notoriety. A judicial sentence may make them such, but the fact that some, many, or a great many know and speak of them will not do it. The public is everybody, or nearly everybody. Do not take your friends for the public when they are only a fraction thereof. If you do, you will find out oftener than it is pleasant, that your sins of detraction are sins of slander, for rumors are very frequently based on nothing more substantial than lies or distorted and exaggerated facts set afloat by a columninator. Even when a person has justly forfeited and publicly the consideration of his fellowmen, and it is not, therefore, injurious to his character to speak of his evil ways, justice may not be offended, but charity may be, and grievously. It is a sin and uncharity to harp on one's faults in a spirit of spite, or with the cruel desire to maintain his dishonor, to leave no stone unturned in order to thoroughly blacken his name. In doing this, you sin against charity, because you do something you would not wish to have done until you. Justice itself would be violated if, even in the event of the facts related being notorious, you speak of them to people who ignore them and are not likely ever to come to a knowledge of them. If you add, after telling all you know about a poor devil, that he did penance and repaired his sin, you must not imagine that such atonement will rehabilitate him in the minds of all. Men are more severe and unforgiving than God. Grace may be recovered, but reputation is a thing which once lost is usually lost for good. Something of the infamy sticks, tears and good works will not, cannot wash it away. He therefore who banks too much on human magnanimity is apt to err, and his erring constitutes a fault. But I confided the secret to but one person, and that one a dear friend who promised to keep it. Yes, but the injured party has a right to the estimation of that one person, and his injury consists precisely in being deprived of it. Besides, you accuse yourself openly. Either what you said was void of all harm, or it was not. In the one case, why impose silence? In the other, why not begin yourself by observing the silence you impose upon others? Your friend will do what you did, and the ball you set rolling will not stop until there is nothing left of your victim's character. Of course there are times when to speak of another's faults is derogatory neither to justice nor to charity. Both may demand that the evil be revealed. A man to defend himself may expose his accusers crookedness. In court his lawyer may do it for him. For here again charity begins at home. In the interests of the delinquent, to affect his correction, one may reveal his shortcomings to those who have authority to correct. And it is even admitted that a person in trouble of any kind may, without sin, for the purpose of obtaining advice or consolation, speak to a judicious friend of another's evil ways. Zeal for the public good may not only excuse, but even require that the true character of a bad man be shown up and publicly censured. Its object is to prevent or undo evil, to protect the innocent. It is intended to destroy an evil influence and to make hypocrisy fly under his own colors. Immoral writers, living or dead, corrupt politicians and demagogues, unconscionable wretches who prey on public ignorance, may and should be made known to the people. To shield them is to share their guilt. This should not be done in a spirit of vengeance, but for the sole purpose of guarding the unwary against vultures who know no law and who thrive on the simplicity of their hearers. End of Chapter 89 Detraction Chapter 90 of Explanation of Catholic Morals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Bruce Kachuk Explanation of Catholic Morals by John H. Stapleton Chapter 90 Calumny To the malice of detraction, Calumny adds that of falsehood. It is a lie which is bad. It is a report prejudicial to the character of another which is worse. It is both combined, out of which combination springs a third malice which is abominable. Although more so since there can exist no excuse or reason in the light of which this sin may appear as a human weakness. Because slander is the fruit of deliberate criminal spite, jealousy, and revenge, it has a character of diabolism. The Columniator is not only a moral assassin, but he is the most accomplished type of the coward known to man. If the devil loves a cheerful liar, he has one here to satisfy his affections. This crime is one that can never be tolerated, no matter what the circumstances. It can never be justified on any grounds whatsoever. It is intrinsically evil. A sin of injustice that admits no mitigation. When slander is sworn to before the courts, it acquires a fourth malice, that of a religion, and is called false testimony. It is not a lone perjury, for perjury does not necessarily attack the neighbor's good name. It is perjured Columni, a crime that deserves all the reprobation it receives in this world, and in the next. To lie outright, deliberately and with malice of forethought, introducing a fellow man, is slander in its direct form. But such conditions are not required to constitute a real fault of Columni. It is not necessary to be certain that what you allege against your neighbor be false. It is sufficient that you be uncertain if it be true, and unsubstantiated charge or accusation, a mere rumor given out as worthy of belief, a suspicion or doubt clothed so as to appear a certainty. These contain all the malice and all the elements of slander clearly characterized. Charity, justice, and truth alike are violated. Guilt is there in unquestioned evidence. Whatever subterfuge, equivocation, or other crooked proceeding be resorted to, if mendacity in any form is a feature of the aspersions we cast upon the neighbor, we sin by Columni, purely and simply. Some excuse themselves on the plea that what they say, they give out for what it is worth. They heard it from others, and take no responsibility as to its truth or falsehood. But here we must consider the credulity of the hearers. Will they believe it, whether you do or not? Are they likely to receive it as truth, either because they are looking for just such reports, or because they know no better? And whether they believe it or not, will they on your authority have sufficient reason for giving credence to your words? May it not happen that the very fact of your mentioning what you did is a sufficient mark of credulity for others, and by so doing you contribute to their knowledge of what is false, or what is not proven true concerning the reputation of a neighbor. For it must be remembered that all imprudence is not guiltless, all thoughtlessness is not innocent of wrong. It is easy to Columniate a person by qualifying him, in an offhand way, as a thief, a black leg, a fast liver, etc. It is easy by adding an invented detail to a statement to give it an altogether different color, and turn truth into falsehood. But the easiest way is to interpret a man's intentions according to a dislike, and by stringing in such fancies with a lot of facts, pass them on, unsuspecting credulity that takes all or none. If you do not think well of another, and the occasion demanded, speak it out, but make it known that it is your individual judgment, and give your reasons for thus opining. The desperate character of Columni is that, while it must be repaired, as we shall see later, the thing is difficult, often impossible. Frequently the reparation increases the evil, instead of diminishing it. The slogan of unrighteousness is, Columniate, Columniate, some of it will stick. He who slanders lies, he who lies once may lie again. A liar is never worthy of belief, whether he tells the truth or not, for there is no knowing when he is telling the truth. One has the right to disbelieve the Columniator, when he does wrong, or when he tries to undo it. And human nature is so constructed that it prefers to believe in the first instance and to disbelieve in the second. You may slander a community, a class, as well as an individual. It is not necessary to charge all with crime. It is sufficient so to manipulate your words that suspicion may fall on any one of said class or community. If the charge be particularly heinous, or if the body of man be such that all its usefulness depends on its reputation, as is the case especially with religious bodies, the malice of such slander acquires a dignity far above the ordinary. The Church of God has suffered more in the long centuries of her existence from the tongue of slander than from sword and flame and chains combined. In the mind of her enemies any weapon is lawful with which to smite her, and the climax of infamy is reached when they affirm to justify their dishonesty that they turn Rome's weapons against her. There is only one answer to this, and that is the silence of contempt. Slander and daughters are the wheels on which moves the propaganda that would substitute gospel Christianity for the superstitions of Rome. It is slander that vilifies in convention and synod the friars who did more for pure Christianity in the Philippines in a hundred years than the whole nest of their revilers will do in ten thousand. It is slander that holds up to public ridicule the congregations that suffer persecution and exile in France in the name of liberty, fraternity, etc. It is slander that the long-tailed missionary with the sanctimonious face brings back from the countries of the south with which to regale the minds of those who furnish the Bibles and shekels, and who will measure the slander that grows out of the dung-hill of Protestant ignorance of what Catholics really believe. 8. Commandment is based on the natural right every fellow man has to our good opinion, unless he forfeits it justly and publicly. It forbids all injury to his reputation, first in the estimation of others, which is done by calamity and detraction, secondly in our own estimation, and this is done by rash judgment, by hastily and without sufficient grounds thinking evil of him, forming a bad opinion of him. He may be, as he has a right to be, anxious to stand well in our esteem, as well as in the esteem of others. A judgment, rash or otherwise, is not a doubt, neither is it a suspicion. Everybody knows what a doubt is. When I doubt if another is doing or has done wrong, the idea of his or her guilt simply enters my mind, occurs to me, and I turn it over and around, from one side to another, without being satisfied to accept or reject it. I do not say, yes, it is true, neither do I say, no, it is not true. I say nothing, I pass no judgment. I suspend for the moment all judgment, I doubt. A doubt is not evil unless there be absolutely no reason for doubting, and then the doubt is born of passion and malice, and the evil whatever there is of it is not in the doubts entering our mind, something beyond our control, but in our entertaining the doubt, in our making the doubt personal, which supposes an act of the will. Stronger than doubt is suspicion. When I suspect one, I do not keep the balance perfectly even between yes and no, as in the case of doubt. I lead mentally to one side, but do not go so far as to assent one way or the other. Having before me a person who excites my suspicion, I am inclined to think him guilty on certain evidence, but I fear to judge lest I should be in error, because there is evidence also of innocence. If my suspicion is based on good grounds, it is natural and lawful, otherwise it is rash and sinful. It is uncharitable and unjust to the person suspected. A suspicion often hurts more than an accusation. Doubt and suspicion when rash are sinful, but the malice thereof is not grave, unless they are so utterly unfounded as to be token deep-seated antipathy and aversion and a perverse will, or unless in peculiar circumstances the position of the person is such as to make the suspicion gravely injurious and not easily condoned. There is guilt in keeping that suspicion to oneself. To give it out in words is calamity, whether it be true or not, simply because it is unfounded. In a judgment there is neither doubt nor suspicion. I make my own the idea presented to my mind. The balance of assent in which is weighted the evidence for and against is not kept even, nor is it partially inclined. It goes down with its full weight and the party under consideration stands convicted before the tribunal of my judgment. I do not say, I wonder if he is guilty, nor he most likely is guilty, but he is guilty. Here is a deliberate judgment. Henceforth my esteem ceases for such a person. Translated in words, such a judgment is not calamity because it is supposedly founded in reason, but it is detraction because it is injurious. Such a judgment without any exterior expression is sinful if it is rash and what makes it rash? The insufficiency of motive on which it is based and whence comes the knowledge of such sufficiency or insufficiency of motive? From the intelligence but mostly from the conscience. That is why many unintelligent people judge rashly and sin not because they know no better. But conscience nearly always supplies intelligence in such matters and ignorance does not always save us from guilt. An instinct, the we-voice of God in the soul, tells us to withhold our judgment even when the intelligence fails to weigh the motives aright. To contend this voice is to sin and be guilty of rash judgment. In the language of ordinary folks, not always precise and exact in their terms, an opinion is frequently a judgment. To think this or that of another is often to judge him accordingly. The suspicions of suspicious people are at times more than suspicions and are clearly characterized judgments. To render a verdict on the neighbor's character is a judgment by whatever other name it is called. All that is necessary is to come to a definite conclusion and to give the assent of the will to that conclusion. When the conduct of the neighbor is plainly open to interpretation, if we may not judge immediately against him, neither are we bound to give him the benefit of the doubt. We may simply suspend all judgment and await further evidence. In our exterior dealings, this suspicion should not affect our conduct, for every man has a right to be treated as an honest man and does not forfeit that right on the ground of a mere probability. This, however, does not prevent us from taking a cue from our suspicion and acting guardably towards him. This does not mean that we adjudge him dishonest but that we deem him capable of being dishonest, which is true and in accordance with the laws of prudence. Neither are we bound to overlook all evidence that points to a man's guilt through fear of judging him unfavorably. It is not wrong to judge a man according to his merits, to have a right opinion of him, even when that opinion is not to his credit. All that is necessary is that we have good reason on which to base that opinion. If a neighbor does evil in their presence or to our knowledge, he forfeits and justly our good opinion. He is to blame and not we. We are not obliged to close our eyes to the truth of facts, and it is on facts that our judgments are formed. Please visit LibriVox.org. To lie is to utter an untruth with full knowledge that it is an untruth. The untruth may be expressed by any conventional sign, by word, deed, gesture, or even by silence. Its malice and disorder consists in the opposition that exists between our idea and the expression we give to it. Our words convey a meaning contrary to what is in our mind. We say one thing and mean another. If we unwittingly utter what is contrary to fact, that is error. If we so clumsily translate our thoughts as to give a false impression of what we mean, and we do the best we can, that is a blunder. If in a moment of listlessness and in attention we speak in a manner that conflicts with our state of mind, that is temporary mental aberration. But if we knowingly give out as truth, what we know is not the truth, we lie purely and simply. In misrepresentations of this kind, it is not required that there be a plainly formulated purpose of deceiving another. An implicit intention, a disposition to allow our words to run their natural course, is sufficient to give such utterances a character of mendacity. For, independently of our mental attitude, it is in the nature of a lie to deceive. An intention, or rather a pretense to the contrary, does not affect that nature. The fact of lying presupposes that we intend in some manner to practice deception. If we did not have such a purpose, we would not resort to lying. If you stick a knife into a man, you may pretend what you like, but you did certainly intend to hurt him and make him feel badly. Nor has any ulterior motive we may have in telling an untruth the power to change its nature. A lie is a lie, no matter what prompted it. Whether it serves the purpose of amusement, as a jocose lie, or helps to gain us an advantage or get us out of trouble, as an officious lie, or injures another in any way, as a pernicious lie, mendacity is the character of our utterances. The guilt of willful falsehood is on our soul. A restriction should, however, be made in favor of the jocose lie. It ceases to be a lie when the mind of the speaker is open to all who listen, and his narration or statement may be likened to those fables and myths and fairy tales in which is exemplified the charm of figurative language. When a person says what is false and is convinced that all who hear him know it is false, the contradiction between his mind and its expression is said to be material and not formal, and in this the essence of a lie does not consist. A lie is always a sin. It is what is called an intrinsic evil and is therefore always wrong. And why is this? Because speech was given us to express our thoughts. To use this faculty therefore for a contrary purpose is against its nature, against a law of our being. And this is evil. The obnoxious consequences of falsehood, as it is patent to all, constitute an evil for which falsehood is responsible. But deception, one of those consequences, is not in itself and essentially a moral fault. Deception, if not practiced by lying and therefore not intended, but simply suffered to occur, and if there be grave reason for resorting to this means of defense, cannot be put down as a thing offensive to God or unjustly prejudicial to the neighbor. But when deception is the effect of mendacity, it assumes a character of malice that deserves the reprobation of man, as it is condemned by God. And this is another reason why lying is essentially an evil thing, and can never, under any circumstances, be allowed or justified. This does not mean that lying is always a mortal sin. In fact, it is often venial than mortal. It becomes a serious fault only in the event of another malice being added to it. Thus, if I lie to one who has a right to know the truth and for grave reasons, if the mendacious information I impart is of a nature to mislead one into injury or loss, and this thing I do maliciously, or if my lying is directly disparaging to another, in these cases there is grave malice and serious guilt. But if there is no injustice resulting from a lie, I prevaricate against right in lying, but my sin is not a serious offense. This is a vice that certainly deserves to be fought against and punished always and in all places, especially in the young who are so prone there too. First, because it is a sin, and again, because of the social evils that it gives rise to. There is no gain saying the fact that in the code of purely human morals, lying is considered a very heinous offense that ostracizes a man when robbery on a large scale, adultery, and other first-degree misdemeanors leave him perfectly honorable. This recalls an instance of a recent courtroom, a young miscreant thoroughly imbued with phariseic morals, met with a bold face without a blush or a flinch, accusations of misconduct, robbery, and murder. But when charged with being a liar, he sprang at his accuser in open court and tried to throttle him. His fine indignation got the best of him. He could not stand that. Among pious-minded people, two extreme errors are not infrequently met with. The one is that a lie is not wrong unless the neighbor suffers thereby. The falsity of this we have already shown. According to the other, a lie is such an evil that it should not be tolerated, not one lie, even if all the souls in hell were thereby to be liberated. To this we answer that we would like to get such a chance once. We fear we would tell a whopper. It would be wicked, of course, but we might expect leniency from the just judge under the circumstances. CHAPTER 93 CONCEALING THE TRUTH The duty always to tell the truth does not imply the obligation always to tell all you know. And falsehood does not always follow as a result of not revealing your mind to the first inquisitive person that chooses to put embarrassing questions. Alongside, but not contrary to, the duty of veracity is the right every man has to personal and professional secrets. For a man's mind is not public property. There may arise at times circumstances in which he not only may, but is duty bound to withhold information that concerns himself intimately or touches a third person, and there must be a means to protect the sacredness of such secrets against undue curiosity and inquisitiveness, without recourse to the unlawful method of lying. Silence is not an effective resource, for it not infrequently gives consent one or the other way. The question may be put in such a manner that affirmation or negation will betray the truth to what then shall one have recourse. Let us remark in the first place that God has endowed human intelligence with a native wit, sharpness, and cunning that has its legitimate uses. The exercise of this faculty is evil only when its methods and ends are evil. Used along the lines of moral rectitude strategy and tact for profiting by circumstances are perfectly in order, especially when one acts in the defense of his natural rights. And if this talent is employed without injustice to the neighbor or violence to the law of God, it is no more immoral than the plain telling of truth. In fact it is sometimes better than telling the truth, but it must be understood that such practices must be justified by the circumstances. They suppose in him who resorts thereto a right to withhold information that overrides the right of his interrogator. If the right of the latter to know is superior, then the hiding of truth would constitute an injustice, which is sinful, and this is considered tantamount to line. And if the means to which we resort is not line, as we have to find it, that is, does not show a contradiction between what we say and what we mean, then there can be no fear of evil on any side. Now, suppose that instead of using a term whose signification is contrary to what my mind conceives, which would be falsehood, I employ a word that has a natural double meaning, one of which conforms to my mind the other at variance. In the first place I do not speak against my mind. I say what I think. The word I use means what I mean. But the other fellow—that is another matter—he may take his choice of the two meanings. If he guesses a right, my artifice has failed. If he is deceived, that is his loss. I do him no injustice for he had no right to question me. If my answer embarrasses him, that is just what I intended, and I am guilty of no evil for that. If it deceives him, that I did not intend but willingly suffer. I am not obliged to enter into explanations, when I am not even bound to answer him. Of the deception he alone is the cause. I am the occasion, if you will, but the circumstances of his inquisitiveness made that occasion necessary, and I am not responsible. This artifice is called equivocation or amphibology. It consists in the use of words that have a natural double meaning. It supposes in him who resorts to it the right to conceal the truth, a right superior to that of the tormentor who questions him. When these conditions are fulfilled, recourse to this method is perfectly legitimate, but the conditions must be fulfilled. This is not a weapon for convenience, but for necessity. It is easy to deceive oneself when it is painful to tell the truth. Therefore it should be used sparingly. It is not for everyday use. Only emergencies of a serious nature can justify its employ. Another artifice, still more delicate than dangerous, but just as legitimate when certain conditions are fulfilled, is what is known as mental restriction. This too consists in the employ of words of double meaning. But whereas in the former case, both meanings are naturally contained in the word, here the term employed has but one natural signification, the other being furnished by circumstances. Its legitimate use supposes that he to whom the term is directed should either in fact know the circumstances of the case that have this particular significance, or that he could and should know them. If the information drawn from the answer received is insufficient, so much the better. If he is misinformed, the fault is his own, since neither genuine falsehood nor evident injustice can be attributed to the other. An example will illustrate this better than anything else. Take a physician or lawyer, the custodian of a professional secret, or a priest with knowledge safeguarded by the seal of the confessional. These men either may not or should not reveal to others, unconcerned in the matter, the knowledge they possess. There is no one but should be aware of this, but should know that when they are questioned they will answer as laymen, and not as professionals. They will answer according to the outside information, yes or no, whether or not such conclusion agree with the facts they obtained under promise of secrecy. They simply put out of their mind as unserviceable all professional knowledge and respond as a man to a man. Their standing as professional men puts every questioner on his guard and admonishes him that no private information need be expected, that he must take the answer given as the conclusion of outside evidence. Then, if he is deceived, he has no one to blame but himself, since he was warned and took no heed of the warning. Again we repeat, the margin between mental restriction and falsehood is a safe but narrow one. The least bungling may merge one into the other. It requires tact and judgment to know when it is permissible to have recourse to this artifice and how to practice it safely. It is not a thing to be trifled with. In only rare circumstances can it be employed, and only few persons have the right to employ it. End of Chapter 93 Chapter 94 of Explanation of Catholic Morals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Sylvia M. B. in Washington State. Explanation of Catholic Morals by John H. Stapleton. Chapter 94 Restitution A peculiar feature attaches to the sins we have recently treated against the 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th Commandments. These offenses differ from others in that they involve an injury and injustice to our fellow man. Now the condition of pardon for sin is contrition. This contrition contains essentially a firm purpose that looks to the future and removes in a measure the liability to fall again. But with the sins here in question, that firm purpose not only looks forward but backward as well, not only guarantees against future ill-doing, but also repairs the wrong criminally affected in the past. This is called restitution, the undoing of wrong suffered by our neighbor through our own fault. The firm purpose to make restitution is just as essential to contrition as the firm purpose to sin no more. In fact, the former is only a form of the latter. It means that we will not sin any more by prolonging a culpable injustice. And the person who overlooks this feature, when he seeks pardon, has a moral constitution and makeup that is sadly in need of repairs. And of such persons, there are not a few. Justice that has failed to protect a man's right becomes restitution when the deed of wrong is done. Restitution, therefore, that is based on the natural right every man has, to have and to hold what is his, to recover it, its value or equivalent, when unduly dispossessed, supposes an act of injustice, that is, the violation of a strict right. This injustice in turn implies a moral fault, a moral responsibility, direct or indirect. And the fault must be grievous in order to induce a grave obligation. Now it matters not, in the least, what we do or how we do it, if the neighbors suffer through a fault of ours. If any human creature sustains a loss to life or limb, damage to his or her social or financial standing, and such injury can be traced to immoral delinquency on our part, we are unconscious bound to make good the loss and repair the damage done. To do evil is bad. To perpetuate it is immeasurably worse. To refuse to remove the evil is to refuse to remove one's guilt. And as long as one persists in such a refusal, that one remains under the wrath of God. Restitution concerns itself with things down or left undone, things said or left unsaid. It does not enter the domain of thought. Consequently, just as an accident does not entail the necessity of repairing the injury that another sustains, neither does a deliberate thought or desire to perpetuate an injustice entails such a consequence. Even if a person does all in his power to affect an evil purpose, and fails, he is not held to reparation, for there is nothing to repair. As we have said more than once, the will is the source of all malice in the sight of God, but injustice to man requires material as well as formal malice. Sin must have its complement of exterior deed before it can be called human injustice. We deem it unnecessary to dwell upon the gravity of the obligation to make restitution. The balance of justice must be maintained exact and impartial in this world, or the Almighty will see that it is done in the next. The idea that God does not stand for justice destroys the idea that God exists. And if the precept not to commit injustice leaves the guilty one freed to repair or not to repair, that precept is self-contradictory and has no meaning at all. If a right is a right, it is not extinguished by being violated. And if justice is something more than a mere sound, it must protect all rights, whether sinned against or not. It might be convenient for some people to force upon their conscience the lie that restitution is of counsel rather than of precept, under the plea that it is enough to shoulder the responsibility of sin without being burdened with the obligation of repairing it, but it is only a soul well steeped in malice that will take seriously such a contention. Neither is restitution a penance imposed upon us in order to atone for our faults. It is no more penitential in its nature than are the efforts we make to avoid the faults we have fallen into in the past. It atones for nothing. It is simply a desisting from evil. When this is done and forgiveness obtained, then and not till then, is it time to think of satisfying for the temporal punishment due to sin. Naturally, it is much more easy to abstain from committing injustice than to repair it after it is done. It is often very difficult and very painful to face the consequences of our evil ways, especially when all satisfaction is gone and nothing remains but the hard exigencies of duty. And duty is a thing that it costs very little to shirk when one is already hardened by a habit of injustice. That is why restitution is so little heard of in the world. It is a fact to be noted that the Catholic Church is the only religious body that dares to enforce strictly the law of reparation. Others vaguely hold it, but rarely teach it, and then only inflagrant cases of fraud. But she allows none of her children to approach the sacraments who has not already repaired or who does not promise in all sincerity to repair whatever wrong he may have done to the neighbor. Employers of Catholic help sometimes feel the effects of this uncompromising attitude of the Church. They are astonished, edified, and grateful. We recall with pleasure an incident of an apostate going about warning people against the turpitudes of Rome and especially against the extortion of her priests through the confessional. He explained how the benighted papist was obliged under pain of eternal damnation to confess his sins to the priest, and then was charged so much for each fault he had been guilty of. An incredulous listener wanted to know if he, the speaker, while in the toils of Rome had ever been obliged thus to discourage in the confessional, and was answered with a triumphant affirmation, at which the wag hinted that it would be a good thing not to be too outspoken in announcing the fact, as his reputation for honesty would be likely to suffer thereby, for he knew, and all Catholics knew, who were those whose purse the confessor prize opened. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Whenever a person, through a spirit of police or grossly culpable negligence, becomes responsible for serious bodily injury sustained by another, he is bound, as far as, in him lies, to undo the wrong and repair the injustice committed. The law of personal rights that forbade him to lay violent hands on another now commands that the evil be removed by him who placed it. True physical pain and tortures cannot be repaired in kind. Physical injury and disability are not always susceptible of adequate reparation. But there is the loss incurred as a result of such disability, and this loss may affect not one alone, but many. Death too is, of course, absolutely irreparable. But the killing of the victim, in no wise, extinguishes the obligation of reparation. The principal object is removed, but there remain the loss of wages, the expenses necessitated by illness and death. There may be a family dependent on the daily toil of the unfortunate and made destitute by his removal. One must be blinded indeed not to see that all these losses are laid at the door of the criminal, a direct result of his crime, foreseen to at least confusedly since there is a moral fault, and these must be made good as far as the thing is possible, otherwise the sin will not be forgiven. Slander must be retracted. If you have lied about another and thereby done him an injury, you are bound in conscience to correct your false statement, to correct it in such a manner as to undeceive all whom you may have misled. This retraction must really retract, and not do just the contrary make the last state of things worse than the first, which is sometimes the case. Prudence and tact should suggest means to do this effectively, when, how, and to what extent it should be done, in order that the best results of reparation may be obtained. But in one way or another justice demands that the slanderer contradicts his line imputations and remove, by so doing, the stain that besmirches the character of his victim. Of course, if it was by truth and not falsehood, by detraction and not calumny, that you assailed and injured the reputation of another, there is no gain saying the truth. You are not justified in lying in order to make truth less damaging. The harm done here is well nigh irreparable. But there is such a thing as trying to counteract the influence of evil speech by good words, by mentioning qualities that offset defects, by a setting merit against demerit, by attenuating as far as truth will allow, the circumstances of the case, etc. This will place your victim in the least unfavorable light and will in some measure repair the evil of detraction. Scandal must be repaired, a mightily difficult task. To reclaim a soul lost to evil through fatal inducements to sin is paramount, almost to raising from the dead. It is hard, desperately hard to have yourself accepted as an angel of light, by those for whom you have long been a demon of iniquity. Good example! Yes, that is about the only argument you have. You are handicapped, but if you wield that argument for good with as much strength and intensity as you did for evil, you will have done all that can be expected of you, and something may come of it. The wrong of bodily contamination is a deep one. It is a wrong, and therefore unjust, when it is affected through undue influence, that either annulls consent or rings it from the victim by cajolery, threat, or false promise. It becomes immeasurably aggravated when the victim is abandoned to bear alone the shame and burden some consequences of such injustice. Matrimony is the ordinary remedy. The civil law will force it. Conscience may make it an obligation, and does make it, unless in rare cases there be such absolute incompatibility as to make such a contract, an ineffective and ridiculous one, an inefficient remedy or not at all. When such is the case, a pecuniary compensation is the only alternative. A career has been blasted. A future black with despair stares the victim in the face, if she must face it unaided. A burden forced upon her that must be born for years, entailing considerable expense. The man responsible for such a state of affairs, if he expects pardon for his crime, must shoulder the responsibility in a manner that will repair, at least in part, the grave injustice under which his victim labors. If both share the guilt, then both must share the burden. If one shirks, the other must assume the whole. The great victim is the child. That child must get a Christian bringing up, or someone will suffer for it. Its faith must be safeguarded. If this cannot be done at home, then it must be placed where this can be done. If it is advantageous for the parent or parents that the offspring be raised in ignorance of its origin, it is far more advantageous for the child itself. Let it be confided to good hands, but let the money necessary for its support be forthcoming, since this is the only way to make reparation for the evil of its birth. I would add a word in regard to the injustice, frequent enough of too long deferring the fulfillment of marriage promises. For one party especially, this period of waiting is precarious, fracked with danger and dangerous possibilities. Her fidelity makes her sacrifice all other opportunities and makes her future happiness depend on the fulfillment of the promise given. Charms do not last forever. Attractions fade with the years. If affection cools, she is helpless to stir up the embers without unmentionable sacrifice. There is the peril. The man who is responsible for it is responsible for a good deal. He is committing an injustice. There is danger of his not being willing to repair it, danger that he may not be able to repair it. His line of duty is clear. In less for reasons of the gravest importance, he cannot ensure he of conscience continue in a line of conduct that is repugnant alike to natural reason and common decency, and that smacks of moral makeup that would not bear the scrutiny of close investigation. Chapter 96 of Explanation of Catholic Morals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Sylvia M. B. in Washington State, Explanation of Catholic Morals by John H. Stapleton. Chapter 96, Paying Back A man who has stolen has nothing more urgent and imperative to perform on this side of eternity than the duty of refunding the money or goods unjustly acquired or the value thereof. He may possibly consider something else more important, but if he does, that man has somehow unlearned the first principles of natural honesty, ignores the fundamental law that governs the universe, and he will have a difficult time convincing the Almighty that this ignorance of his is not wholly culpable. The best and only thing for him to do is to make up his mind to pay up, to discourage his ill-gotten goods, to make good the losses sustained by his neighbor through his fault. He may or may not have profited to any great extent by his criminal proceedings, but there is no doubt that his victims suffered injustice, and that precisely is the root of his obligation. The stolen goods may have perished in his hands, and he have nothing to show. The same must be said of the victim the moment his possessions disappeared. With this difference, however, that justice was not violated in one case, and in the other it was. The lawful owner may be dead or unfindable among the living, but wherever he may be he never intended that the thief should enjoy the fruit of his crime. Latter's title, vitiated in its source, cannot be improved by any circumstance of the owner's whereabouts. No one may thrive on one's own dishonesty. You say this is hard, and in so sane you lend testimony to the truth of the axiom that honesty is the best policy. There is no one but will agree with you. But such a statement, true though it be, helps matters very little. It is always hard to do right. Blame Adam the E for it, and think of something more practicable. But must I impoverish myself? Not to the extent of depriving yourself of the necessaries of life. But you must deprive yourself to the extent of settling your little account, even if you suffer something thereby. But how shall I be able to refund it all? You may never be able to refund it all, but you may start in immediately and do the best you can. Resolve to keep at it. Never revoke your purpose to cancel the debt. In case your lease of life expires before full justice is done, the Almighty may take into consideration your motives and opportunities. They do say that hell is paved with good intentions. But these intentions are of the sort that are satisfied with never coming to a state of realization. But I shall lose my position, be disgraced, prosecuted, imprisoned. This might happen if you were to write out a brief of your crime and send the same, signed and sworn to, to your employer. But this is superfluous. You might omit the details and signature, enclose the sum and trust luck for the rest. Or you might consult your spiritual advisor. He might have had some experience in this line of business. The essential is not that you be found out, but that you refund. It may happen that several are concerned in a theft. In this case, each and every participant in the measure of his guilt is bound to make restitution. Guilt is the object. Restitution is the shadow. The following is fatal. To order or advise the thing done, to influence efficaciously its doing, to assist in the deed or to profit knowingly thereby, to shield criminally the culprit, etc., this sort of cooperation adds to the guilt of sin the burden of restitution. Silence or inaction when plain duty would call for words and deeds to prevent crime, incriminates as well as active participation and creates an obligation to repair. There is more. Conspiracy in committing an injustice adds in a special feature to the burden of restitution. If the parties to the crime had formed a preconcerted plan and worked together as a whole in its accomplishment, every individual that furnished efficient energy to the success of the undertaking is liable in conscience, not for a share of the loss, but for the sum total. This is what is called solidarity. Solidarity in crime begets solidarity in reparation. It means that the injured party has a just claim for damages, for all damages sustained against any one of the culprits, each one of whom, in the event of his making good the whole loss, has recourse against the others for their share of the obligation. It may happen and does that one or several abscond and thus shirk their part of the obligation. The burden of restitution may thus be unevenly distributed, but this is one of the risks that conspirators in sin must take. The injured party must be protected first and in preference to all others. No Catholic can validly receive the sacrament of penance who refuses to assume the responsibility of restitution for injustices committed, and who does not at least promise sincerely to acquit himself at the first favorable opportunity and to the extent of his capacity. This means that only on these conditions can the sin be forgiven by God, that man is not disposed sufficiently to receive absolution who continually neglects opportunities to keep his promise, who refuses to pay any because he cannot pay at all, who decides to leave the burden of restitution to his heirs, even with the wherewith to do so. It is better not to go to confession at all than to go with these dispositions. It is better to wait until you can make up your mind. End of Chapter 96 Chapter 97 of Exponation of Catholic Morals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Sylvia M. B. in Washington State. Exponation of Catholic Morals by John H. Stapleton, Chapter 97 Getting Rid of Ill-Gotten Goods It may happen that a person discovers among his legitimately acquired possessions something that does not in reality belong to him. He may have come by it through purchase, donation, etc. He kept it in good faith, thinking that he had a clear title to it. He now finds that there was an error somewhere and that it is the property of someone else. Of course, he is not the lawful owner, and does not become such by virtue of his good faith. Although in certain given circumstances, if the good faith or ignorance of error last long enough, a title may be acquired by prescription, and the possessor become the lawful owner, but we are not considering the question of prescription. It is evident then that our friend must dispossess himself in favor of the real owner, as soon as the latter comes upon the scene and proves his claim. But the possessor may in all innocence have alienated the goods, destroyed or consumed them, or they may have perished to accident or fatality. In the latter case nothing remains to refund, no one is to blame, and the owner must spare the laws. Even in the former case, if the holder can say in conscience that he in no wise became richer by the possession and use of the goods in question, he is not bound to make restitution. If, however, there be considerable profits, they rightly belong to the owner, and the possessor must refund the same. But the question arises as to how the holder is to be compensated for the expenditure made in the beginning and in good faith when he purchased the goods, which he is now obliged to hand over to another. Impartial justice demands that when the rightful owner claims his goods, the holder relinquish them, and he may take what he gets, even if it be nothing. He might claim a compensation if he purchased what he knew to be another's property, acting in the interests of that other and with the intention of returning the same to its owner. Otherwise his claim is against the one from whom he obtained the article, and not against him to whom he is obliged to turn it over. He may, if he be shrewd enough, anticipate the serving of the owner's claim, and secure himself against a possible loss by selling back for a consideration the goods in question to the one from whom he bought them, but this cannot be done after the claim is presented. Besides, this proceeding must not render it impossible for the owner to recover his property, and he must be notified as to the whereabouts of said property. This maneuver works injustice unto no one. The owner stands in the same relation to his property as formerly, the subsequent holder assumes an obligation that was always his to refund the goods or their value with recourse against the antecedent seller. The moment a person shirks the responsibility of refunding the possessions by him legitimately acquired, but belonging rightfully to another, that person becomes a possessor in bad faith and stands towards the rightful owner in the position of a thief. Not in a thousand years will he be able to prescribe a just title to the goods. The burden of restitution will forever remain on him. If the goods perish, no matter how, he must make good the loss to the owner. He must also disperse the sum total of profits gathered from the illegal use of said goods. If values fluctuate during the interval of criminal possession, he must compute the amount of his debt according to the values that prevailed at the time the lawful owner would have dispossessed of his goods had he retained possession. Finally, there may be a doubt as to whether the object I possess is rightfully mine or not. I must do my best to solve that doubt and clear the title to ownership. If I fail, I may consider the object mine and may use it as such. If the owner turns up after the prescribed time, so much the worse for the owner. An uncertainty may exist not as to my proprietorship, but as to whom the thing does belong. If my possession began in good faith and I am unable to determine the ownership, I may consider myself the owner until further developments shed more light on the matter. It is difficult when the object was originally acquired in bad faith. In such a case, first the ill-gotten goods can never be mine. Then there is no sanction in reason, conscience, or law for the conduct of those who run immediately to the first charitable institution and leave there their conscience money, or who have masses said for the repose of the souls of those who have been defrauded, before they are dead at all, perhaps. My first care must be to locate the victim, or, if he be certainly deceased or evidently beyond reach, the heirs of the victim of my fraud. When all means fail, and I am unable to find either the owner or his heirs, then, and not till then, may I dispossess of the goods in question. I must assume in such a contingency as this that the will of the owner would be to expend the sum on the most worthy cause, and that is charity. The only choice then that remains with me is what hospital, asylum, or other enterprise of charity is to profit by my sins, since I myself cannot be a gainer in the premises. It might be well to remark here that one is not obliged to make restitution for more than the damages called for. Earnestness is a good sign, but it should not blind us or drive us to an excess of zeal detrimental to our own lawful interests. When there is a reasonable and insolvable doubt as to the amount of reparation to be made, it is just that such a doubt favor us. If we are not sure if it be a little more or a little less, the value we are to refund, we may benefit by the uncertainty and make the burden we assume as light as in all reason it can be made. And even if we should happen to err on the side of mercy to ourselves without our fault, justice is satisfied, being fallible like all things human. Chapter 98 What Excuses From Restitution Those who do not obtain full justice from man in this world will obtain it in the next from God. If we do not meet our obligations this side of the tribunal of the just judge, he will see to it that our accounts are equitably balanced when the time for the final reckoning comes. This supposes naturally that non-fulfillment of obligations is due, on our part, to unwillingness, a positive refusal or its equivalent, willful neglect to undo the wrongs committed. For right reason and God's mercy must recognize the existence of a state of unfeigned and hopeless disability when it is impossible for the delinquent to furnish the wherewithal to repair the evils of which he has been guilty. When this condition is permanent and is beyond all remedy, all claims are extinguished against the culprit, and all losses incurred must be ascribed to an act of God as the coroner says. For no man can be held to what is impossible. Chief among these moral as well as legal bankrupts is the good-for-nothing fellow who is sorry too late, who has nothing, has no hopes of ever having anything, and who therefore can give nothing. You cannot extract blood from a beat nor shackles from an empty purse. Then a man may lose all his belongings in a catastrophe, and, after striving by labor and economy to pay off his debts, may see himself obliged to give up the task through sickness, misfortune, or other good causes. He has given all he has. He cannot give more. Even though liabilities were stacked up mountain high against him, he cannot be held morally responsible, and his creditors must attribute the losses to the misfortune of life, a rather unsubstantial consolation, but as good a one as the poor debtor has. There are other cases where the obligations of restitution are not annulled, but only canceled for the time being, until such a time as circumstances permit they're being met with grave disaster to the debtor. The latter may be in such a position that extreme or great want would stare him in the face, if he parted with what he possesses to make restitution. The difficulty here is out of all proportion with the injustice committed for. After all, one must live and charity begins at home. Our first duty is toward ourselves. The creditors of this man have no just claim against him until he improves his circumstances. In the meantime, the burden of responsibility is lifted from his shoulders. The same must be said when the paying off of a debt at any particular time, being it long or short, would cripple a man's finances, wipe out his earnings to such an extent as to make him fall considerably below his present position in life. We might take a case during the late coal famine of a man who, in order to fill his contracts of coal at six dollars a ton, would be obliged to buy it at fifteen and twenty dollars a ton, and thereby sacrifice his fortune. The thing could not be expected. It is preposterous. His obligee must wait and hope for better times. A man's family is part of himself. Therefore the payment of a just debt may be deferred in order to shield from want, parents, wife, children, brothers, or sisters. Life, limb, and reputation are greater possessions than riches. Consequently, rather than jeopardize these, one may for the time put aside his obligations to make restitution. All this supposes, of course, that during the interval of delay the creditor does not suffer inconveniences greater than, or as great as, those the debtor seeks to avoid. The latter's right to defer payment ceases to exist the moment it comes into conflict with an equal right of the former to said payment. It is against reason to expect that, after suffering a first injustice, the victim should suffer a second in order to spare the guilty party a lesser or an equal injury. Preference therefore must be given to the creditor over the debtor, when the necessity for sacrifice is equal, and leniency must be refused when it becomes cruelty to the former. Outside these circumstances, which are rare indeed, it will be seen at once that the creditor may act an unjust part in pressing claims that accidentally and temporarily become invalid. He has a right to his own, but he is not justified in vindicating that right, if in doing so he inflicts more damages than equity calls for. The culprit has a right not to suffer more than he deserves, and it is mock justice that does not respect that right. If the creditor does suffer some loss by the delay, this might be a circumstance to remember at the final settlement, but for the present there is an impediment to the working of justice, placed by the fatal order of things, and it is beyond power to remove it. End of chapter 98. Chapter 99 of Explanation of Catholic Morals. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Sylvia M. B. in Washington State. Explanation of Catholic Morals by John H. Stapleton. Chapter 99. Debtz. Before closing our remarks, necessarily brief and incomplete on this subject, so vast and comprehensive, we desire in a few words to pay our respects to that particular form of injustice, more common perhaps than all others combined, which is known as criminal debt. Likewise, to its agent, the most brazen imposter and unconscionable frog that afflicts society, the man who owes and will not pay. More people suffer from bad debts than from stealing and destruction of property. It is easier to contract a debt or to borrow a trifle than to steal it outright. It is safer, too. Imprudence is one of the chief characteristics of this genus of iniquity. I would sooner owe you this than cheat you out of it. This, in word or deed, is the highly spiritual consolation they offer those whom they fleece and then laugh at it. The willful debtor is, first of all, a thief and a robber, because he retains unjustly the lawful possessions of another. There is no difference between taking and keeping what belongs to the neighbor. The loss is the same to a man whether he is robbed of a certain amount or sells goods for which he gets nothing in return. The injustice is the same in both cases, the malice, identical. He, therefore, who can pay his debts and will not, must be branded as a thief and an enemy to the rights of property. The debtor is guilty of a second crime, of dishonesty and fraud against his fellow man, by reason of his breaking a contract entered upon with a party in good faith and binding in conscience until canceled by fulfillment. When a man borrows or buys or runs an account on credit, he agrees to return a quid pro quo, an equivalent for value received. When he fails to do so, he violates his contract, breaks his pledge of honor, obtains goods under false pretense. Even if he is sincere at the time of the making of the contract, the crime is perpetrated the moment he becomes a guilty debtor by repudiating in one way or another his just debts. Now, to injure a person is wrong. To break faith with him at one and the same time is to incur guilt of a double die. There is likewise an element of contumely and outrage in such dishonest operations. The affront offered the victim is contemptible. Men have often been heard to say after being victimized by impostor of this sort, I do not mind the loss so much, but I do object to being treated like a fool and a monkey. One's feelings suffer more than one's purse. Especially is this the case when the credit is given or a loan made as a favor or a service, intended or requested, only to be requited by the blackest kind of ingratitude. And let us not forget the extent of damage wrought unto worthy people in hard circumstances who are shut out from the advantages of borrowing and buying on credit by the nefarious practices of dishonest borrowers and buyers. A burnt child keeps away from the fire. A man, after being defrauded palpably a few times, acquires the habit of refusing all credit, and he turns down many who deserve better because of the persecution to which he is subjected by rogues and scoundrels. Every criminal debtor contributes to that state of affairs and shares the responsibility of causing honest people to suffer want through inability to get credit. And who are the persons thus guilty of a manifold guilt? They are those who borrow and buy knowing full well they will not pay, pile debt upon debt knowing full well they cannot pay. Others who do not repudiate openly their obligations put off pain indefinitely for futile reasons, hard times that last forever, ships coming in whose fate is yet unlearned, windfalls from rich relatives that are not yet born, etc. And from delay to delay they become not only less able but less willing to settle their accounts. Sometimes you meet a fellow anxious to square himself for the total amount. Half his assets is negotiable, the other half is gall. He threatens you with the alternative of half or none. He wants you to accept his impudence at the same figures at which he himself values it, and this scammer usually succeeds in his endeavor. Others there are who protest their determination to pay up. Even to the last cent, their done bills are always kept in sight lest they forget their obligations. They treasure these bills, as one treasures a thing of immense value, but they live beyond their means and income, purchase pleasure and luxury, refuse to curtail frivolous expenses, and extravagant outlay. And in the meantime their debts remain in status quo, unredeemed and less and less redeemable, their determination holds good, apparently, and the creditor breaks commandments looking on and hoping. Some do violence to their thinking faculty by trying to find justification, somehow, for not paying their debts. The creditor is dead, they say, or he has plenty it can well afford to be generous. An attempt is often made at establishing a case of occult compensation. Its only merit mean its ingenuity worthy of a better cause. All such lame excuses argue a deeper perversity of will, a malice well-nigh and curable, but they do not satisfy justice because they are not founded on truth. A debtor has a character of sacredness, like all moral obligations, more sacred than many other moral obligations, because this quality is taken directly from the eternal prototype of justice, which is God. You cannot willfully repudiate it, therefore, without repudiating God. You must respect it as you respect him. Your sins and your debts will follow you before the throne of God. God alone is concerned with your sins, but with your debt a third party is concerned. And if God may easily waive his claims against you as a sinner, a sterner necessity may influence his judgment of you as a debtor, through respect for the inviolable rights of that third party who does not forgive so readily.