CHAPTER THIRD.

OF VERACITY.

THE important rank which Veracity holds among our social duties appears from the obvious consequences that would result if no foundation were laid for it in the constitution of our nature. The purposes of speech would be frustrated, and every man's opportunities of knowledge would be limited to his own personal experience.

Considerations of utility, however, do not seem to be the only ground of the approbation we bestow on this disposition. Abstracting from all regard to consequences, there is something pleasing and amiable in sincerity, openness, and truth; something disagreeable and disgusting in duplicity, equivocation, and falsehood. Dr. Hutcheson himself, the great patron of that theory which resolves all moral qualities into benevolence, confesses this; for he speaks of a sense which leads us to approve of veracity, distinct from the sense which approves of qualities useful to mankind. "Facultatis hujus, sive orationis, comes est et moderator sensus quidam subtilior, ex veri etiam cognoscendi appetitione naturali non parum confirmatus, quo vera omnia, simplicia, fidelia comprobamus; falsa, ficta, fallacia odimus."*" Sensu enim cujusque proxime commendatur is sermonis usus, quem communis exigit utilitas. Hoc vero stabile consilium eo tantum utendi sermone, qui cum animi sententiâ congruit, quique alios non decipit, comprobant et animi sensus per se, et utilitatis communis ratio." † As this, however, is at best but a vague way of speaking, it may be proper to analyze more particularly that part of our constitution from which our approbation of veracity arises.

*Philosophiæ Moralis Institutio compendiaria, Lib. ii. cap. 9.

† Ibid. Lib. ii. cap. 10.

Aristotle expresses himself nearly to the same purpose. Καθ' αὑτὸ μὲν ψεῦδος φαϊ. λον καὶ ψεκτόνο, τὸ δὲ ἀληθὲς καλὸν καὶ ἐπαινετόν.-Aritsot. Εthic. Nicomach. Lib. iv. cap. 7. Various passages of a similar import occur in Cicero.

That there is in the human mind a natural or instinctive principle of veracity, has been remarked by many authors; the same part of our constitution which prompts to social intercourse, prompting also to sincerity in our mutual communications. Truth is always the spontaneous and native expression of our sentiments; whereas falsehood implies a certain violence done to our nature, in consequence of the influence of some motive which we are anxious to conceal.

With respect to the nature of TRUTH various metaphysical speculations have been offered to the world, and various definitions have been attempted, both by the ancients and moderns. These, however, have thrown but little light on the subject, which is not surprising when we consider that the word truth expresses a simple idea or notion, of which no analysis or explication is possible. The same observation may be made with respect to the words knowledge and belief. All of them express notions which are implied in every judgment of the understanding, and which no being can form who is not possessed of a rational nature. And, by the way, these notions deserve to be added to the list formerly mentioned, as exemplifications of the imperfection of the account commonly given of the origin of our ideas. They are obviously not derived from any particular sense; and they do not seem to be referable to any part of our constitution, but to the understanding; or, in other words, to those rational powers which distinguish man from the brutes. This language, I know will appear to be very loose and inaccurate to those who have familiarized their minds to the common doctrine; but it is a plain and indisputable statement of the fact.

To acquire knowledge or to discover truth, is the proper object of curiosity; a principle of action which is coeval with the first operations of the intellect, and which in most minds continues through life to have a powerful influence in one way or another on the character and the conduct. It is this principle which puts the intellectual faculties in motion, and gives them that exercise which is necessary for their developement and improvement; and which, according to the direction it

I

takes, and the particular set of faculties it exercises, is the principal foundation of the diversities of genius among men. And as the diversities of genius proceed from the different directions in which curiosity engages the attention, so the inequalities of genius among individuals may be traced in a great measure to the different degrees of ardor and perseverance with which the curiosity operates. When say this, I would not be understood to insinuate, that the different capacities of individuals are the same; a supposition contradicted by obvious facts, and contrary to what we should be led to conclude from the analogy of the body. I only wish to impress on all those who have any connexion with the education of youth, the great importance of stimulating the curiosity, and of directing it to proper objects, as the most effectual of all means for securing the improvement of the mind: I may add, as one of the most effectual provisions that can be made for the happiness of the individual, in consequence of the resources it furnishes when we are left to depend on ourselves for enjoyment; and in consequence also of the progressive vigor with which it operates to the very close of life, in proportion to the enlargement of our experience and the extent of our information.

In order however to prevent misapprehensions of my meaning, it is necessary for me again to remark, that the curiosity on which I lay so great a stress is that curiosity alone which has truth for its object. "There are many men," says Butler, "who have a strong curiosity to know what is said who have no curiosity to know what is true; "—men who value knowledge only as furnishing an employment to their memory, or as supplying a gratification to their vanity in their intercourse with others. It is a weakness which we may presume has prevailed more or less in all ages; but which has been much encouraged in modern Europe, by that superstitious admiration of antiquity which has withdrawn so much genius and industry from the pursuits of science to those of erudition. No prejudice can be conceived more adverse to the progress of useful knowledge, not only as it occasions an idle waste of time and labor which might

have been more profitably employed, but as it contributes powerfully to destroy that simplicity and modesty of temper which are the genuine characteristics of the true philosopher.

I think it of importance to add, that the love of truth, where it is the great motive of our intellectual pursuits, gains daily an accession of strength as our knowledge advances. I already said that it is an ultimate fact in our nature, and is not resolvable into views of utility. Its extensive effects on human happiness are discovered only in the progress of our experience; but when this discovery is once made, it superadds to our instinctive curiosity every stimulus which self-love and benevolence can furnish. The connexion between error and misery, between truth and happiness, becomes gradually more apparent as our inquiries proceed, and produces at last a complete conviction that, even in those cases where we are unable to trace it, the connexion subsists. He who feels this as he ought, will consider a steadfast adherence to the truth as an expression of benevolence to man, and of confidence in the righteous administration of the universe, and will suspect the purity of those motives, which would lead him to advance the good of his species or the glory of his Maker, by deceit and hypocrisy.

In offering these remarks I shall no doubt be thought to have taken a very wide circuit in order to illustrate the nature of that veracity which is incumbent on us in our intercourse with our fellow creatures. But it appears to me the most solid of all foundations for the uniform and the scrupulous exercise of this virtue is, to cherish the love of truth in general, and to impress the mind with a conviction of its important effects on our own happiness and on that of society. There is indeed a sort of gross and ostensible practice of this duty which is secured by what we call the point of honor in modern Europe, which brands with infamy every palpable deviation from the truth in matters of fact. The law of honor here operates in the case of veracity, in some measure as the law of the magistrate operates in the case of justice. But, as in the latter case, a man

may be unjust in the sight of God and of his own conscience, without transgressing the letter of any statute, so in the former, without forfeiting his character as a gentleman, he may often incur all the guilt of a liar and an impostor. Is it, in a moral view, more criminal to misrepresent a fact, than to impose on the world by what we know to be an unsound or a fallacious argument? Is it, in a moral view, more criminal to mislead another by a verbal lie, than by actions which convey a false idea of our intentions? Is it, in a moral view, more criminal, or is it more inconsistent with the dignity of a man of true honor, to defraud men in a private transaction by an incorrect or erroneous statement of circumstances, than to mislead the public to their own ruin by those wilful deviations from truth, into which we see men daily led by views of interest or ambition, or by the spirit of political faction? Numberless cases, in short, may be fancied, in which our only security for truth is the virtuous disposition of the individual, and where the restraint of public opinion has little or no influence. Perhaps I should not go too far were I to affirm, that, as there is no duty of which the gross and ostensible practice is so effectually secured by the manners of modern times, so there is none of the obligation of which mankind seem in general to be so insensible, considered as moral agents, and accountable to God for their thoughts and intentions.

Among the various causes which have conspired to relax our moral principles on this important article, the facility which the press affords us in modern times of addressing the world by means of annonymous publications, is probably one of the most powerful. The salutary restraint which a regard to character imposes, in most cases, on our moral deviations, is here withdrawn ; and we have no security for the fidelity of the writer, but his disinterested love of truth and of mankind. The palpable and ludicrous misrepresentations of facts, to which we are accustomed from our infancy in the periodical prints of the day, gradually unhinge our faith in all such communications; and what we are every day accustomed to see, we cease in time to regard with