Paris, April 25, 1656 SIR, Having succeeded in pacifying the good father, who had been rather disconcerted by the story of John d'Alba, he resumed the conversation, on my assuring him that I would avoid all such interruptions in future, and spoke of the maxims of his casuists with regard to gentlemen, nearly in the following terms: "You know," he said, "that the ruling passion of persons in that rank of life is 'the point of honor,' which is perpetually driving them into acts of violence apparently quite at variance with Christian piety; so that, in fact, they would be almost all of them excluded from our confessionals, had not our fathers relaxed a little from the strictness of religion, to accommodate themselves to the weakness of humanity.Anxious to keep on good terms both with the Gospel, by doing their duty to God, and with the men of the world, by showing charity to their neighbour, they needed all the wisdom they possessed to devise expedients for so nicely adjusting matters as to permit these gentlemen to adopt the methods usually resorted to for vindicating their honour, without wounding their consciences, and thus reconcile two things apparently so opposite to each other as piety and the point of honour.
But, sir, in proportion to the utility of the design, was the difficulty of the execution.You cannot fail, I should think, to realize the magnitude and arduousness of such an enterprise?" "It astonishes me, certainly,"said I, rather coldly."It astonishes you, forsooth!" cried the monk."Ican well believe that; many besides you might be astonished at it.Why, don't you know that, on the one hand, the Gospel commands us 'not to render evil for evil, but to leave vengeance to God'; and that, on the other hand, the laws of the world forbid our enduring an affront without demanding satisfaction from the offender, and that often at the expense of his life?
You have never, I am sure, met with anything to all appearance more diametrically opposed than these two codes of morals; and yet, when told that our fathers have reconciled them, you have nothing more to say than simply that this astonishes you!" "I did not sufficiently explain myself, father.I should certainly have considered the thing perfectly impracticable, if I had not known, from what I have seen of your fathers, that they are capable of doing with ease what is impossible to other men.This led me to anticipate that they must have discovered some method for meeting the difficulty-a method which I admire even before knowing it, and which I pray you to explain to me." "Since that is your view of the matter," replied the monk, "I cannot refuse you.Know then, that this marvellous principle is our grand method of directing the intention- the importance of which, in our moral system, is such that I might almost venture to compare it with the doctrine of probability.You have had some glimpses of it in passing, from certain maxims which I mentioned to you.For example, when I was showing you how servants might execute certain troublesome jobs with a safe conscience, did you not remark that it was simply by diverting their intention from the evil to which they were accessary to the profit which they might reap from the transaction? Now that is what we call directing the intention.
You saw, too, that, were it not for a similar divergence of the mind, those who give money for benefices might be downright simoniacs.But I will now show you this grand method in all its glory, as it applies to the subject of homicide- a crime which it justifies in a thousand instances; in order that, from this startling result, you may form an idea of all that it is calculated to effect." "I foresee already," said I, "that, according to this mode, everything will be permitted; it win stick at nothing." "You always fly from the one extreme to the other," replied the monk: "prithee avoid that habit.For, just to show you that we are far from permitting everything, let me tell you that we never suffer such a thing as a formal intention to sin, with the sole design of sinning; and if any person whatever should persist in having no other end but evil in the evil that he does, we break with him at once: such conduct is diabolical.This holds true, without exception of age, sex, or rank.But when the person is not of such a wretched disposition as this, we try to put in practice our method of directing the intention, which simply consists in his proposing to himself, as the end of his actions, some allowable object.Not that we do not endeavour, as far as we can, to dissuade men from doing things forbidden; but when we cannot prevent the action, we at least purify the motive, and thus correct the viciousness of the means by the goodness of the end.Such is the way in which our fathers have contrived to permit those acts of violence to which men usually resort in vindication of their honour.They have no more to do than to turn off their intention from the desire of vengeance, which is criminal, and direct it to a desire to defend their honour, which, according to us, is quite warrantable.And in this way our doctors discharge all their duty towards God and towards man.By permitting the action, they gratify the world; and by purifying the intention, they give satisfaction to the Gospel.This is a secret, sir, which was entirely unknown to the ancients; the world is indebted for the discovery entirely to our doctors.
