Paris, May 28, 1656
SIR,
You did not suppose that anybody would have the curiosity to know who we were; but it seems there are people who are trying to make it out, though they are not very happy in their conjectures. Some take me for a doctor of the Sorbonne; others ascribe my letters to four or five persons, who, like me, are neither priests nor Churchmen. All these false surmises convince me that I have succeeded pretty well in my object, which was to conceal myself from all but yourself and the worthy monk, who still continues to bear with my visits, while I still contrive, though with considerable difficulty, to bear with his conversations. I am obliged, however, to restrain myself; for, were he to discover how much I am shocked at his communications, he would discontinue them and thus put it out of my power to fulfil the promise I gave you, of making you acquainted with their morality. You ought to think a great deal of the violence which I thus do to my own feelings. It is no easy matter, I can assure you, to stand still and see the whole system of Christian ethics undermined by such a set of monstrous principles, without daring to put in a word of flat contradiction against them. But, after having borne so much for your satisfaction, I am resolved I shall burst out for my own satisfaction in the end, when his stock of information has been exhausted. Meanwhile, I shall repress my feelings as much as I possibly can for I find that the more I hold my tongue, he is the more communicative. The last time I saw him, he told me so many things that I shall have some difficulty in repeating them all. On the point of restitution you will find they have some most convenient principles. For, however the good monk palliates his maxims, those which I am about to lay before you really go to sanction corrupt judges, usurers, bankrupts, thieves, prostitutes and sorcerers — all of whom are most liberally absolved from the obligation of restoring their ill-gotten gains. It was thus the monk resumed the conversation:
“At the commencement of our interviews, I engaged to explain to you the maxims of our authors for all ranks and classes; and you have already seen those that relate to beneficiaries, to priests, to monks, to domestics, and to gentlemen. Let us now take a cursory glance at the remaining, and begin with the judges.
“Now I am going to tell you one of the most important and advantageous maxims which our fathers have laid down in their favour. Its author is the learned Castro Palao, one of our four-and-twenty elders. His words are: ‘May a judge, in a question of right and wrong, pronounce according to a probable opinion, in preference to the more probable opinion? He may, even though it should be contrary to his own judgement — imo contra propriam opinionem.’”
“Well, father,” cried I, “that is a very fair commencement! The judges, surely, are greatly obliged to you; and I am surprised that they should be so hostile, as we have sometimes observed, to your probabilities, seeing these are so favourable to them. For it would appear from this that you give them the same power over men’s fortunes as you have given to yourselves over their consciences.”
“You perceive we are far from being actuated by self-interest,” returned he; “we have had no other end in view than the repose of their consciences; and to the same useful purpose has our great Molina devoted his attention, in regard to the presents which may be made them. To remove any scruples which they might entertain in accepting of these on certain occasions, he has been at the pains to draw out a list of all those cases in which bribes may be taken with a good conscience, provided, at least, there be no special law forbidding them. He says: ‘Judges may receive presents from parties when they are given them either for friendship’s sake, or in gratitude for some former act of justice, or to induce them to give justice in future, or to oblige them to pay particular attention to their case, or to engage them to despatch it promptly.’ The learned Escobar delivers himself to the same effect: ‘If there be a number of persons, none of whom have more right than another to have their causes disposed of, will the judge who accepts of something from one of them, on condition — expacto — of taking up his cause first, be guilty of sin? Certainly not, according to Layman; for, in common equity, he does no injury to the rest by granting to one, in consideration of his present, what he was at liberty to grant to any of them he pleased; and besides, being under an equal obligation to them all in respect of their right, he becomes more obliged to the individual who furnished the donation, who thereby acquired for himself a preference above the rest — a preference which seems capable of a pecuniary valuation — quae obligatio videtur pretio aestimabilis.’”
“May it please your reverence,” said I, “after such a permission, I am surprised that the first magistrates of the kingdom should know no better. For the first president has actually carried an order in Parliament to prevent certain clerks of court from taking money for that very sort of preference — a sign that he is far from thinking it allowable in judges; and everybody has applauded this as a reform of great benefit to all parties.”
The worthy monk was surprised at this piece of intelligence, and replied: “Are you sure of that? I heard nothing about it. Our opinion, recollect, is only probable; the contrary is probable also.”
“To tell you the truth, father,” said I, “people think that the first president has acted more than probably well, and that he has thus put a stop to a course of public corruption which has been too long winked at.”
“I am not far from being of the same mind,” returned he; “but let us waive that point, and say no more about the judges.”
“You are quite right, sir,” said I; “indeed, they are not half thankful enough for all you have done for them.”
“That is not my reason,” said the father; “but there is so much to be said on all the different classes that we must study brevity on each of them. Let us now say a word or two about men of business. You are aware that our great difficulty with these gentlemen is to keep them from usury — an object to accomplish which our fathers have been at particular pains; for they hold this vice in such abhorrence that Escobar declares ‘it is heresy to say that usury is no sin’; and Father Bauny has filled several pages of his Summary of Sins with the pains and penalties due to usurers. He declares them ‘infamous during their life, and unworthy of sepulture after their death.’”
“O dear! “ cried I, “I had no idea he was so severe.”
“He can be severe enough when there is occasion for it,” said the monk; “but then this learned casuist, having observed that some are allured into usury merely from the love of gain, remarks in the same place that ‘he would confer no small obligation on society, who, while he guarded it against the evil effects of usury, and of the sin which gives birth to it, would suggest a method by which one’s money might secure as large, if not a larger profit, in some honest and lawful employment than he could derive from usurious dealings.”
“Undoubtedly, father, there would be no more usurers after that.”
“Accordingly,” continued he, “our casuist has suggested ‘a general method for all sorts of persons — gentlemen, presidents, councillors,’ &c.; and a very simple process it is, consisting only in the use of certain words which must be pronounced by the person in the act of lending his money; after which he may take his interest for it without fear of being a usurer, which he certainly would be on any other plan.”
“And pray what may those mysterious words be, father?”
“I will give you them exactly in his own words,” said the father; “for he has written his Summary in French, you know, ‘that it may be understood by everybody,’ as he says in the preface: ‘The person from whom the loan is asked must answer, then, in this manner: I have got no money to lend, I have got a little, however, to lay out for an honest and lawful profit. If you are anxious to have the sum you mention in order to make something of it by your industry, dividing the profit and loss between us, I may perhaps be able to accommodate you. But now I think of it, as it may be a matter of difficulty to agree about the profit, if you will secure me a certain portion of it, and give me so much for my principal, so that it incur no risk, we may come to terms much sooner, and you shall touch the cash immediately.’ Is not that an easy plan for gaining money without sin? And has not Father Bauny good reason for concluding with these words: ‘Such, in my opinion, is an excellent plan by which a great many people, who now provoke the just indignation of God by their usuries, extortions, and illicit bargains, might save themselves, in the way of making good, honest, and legitimate profits’?”
“O sir!” I exclaimed, “what potent words these must be! Doubtless they must possess some latent virtue to chase away the demon of usury which I know nothing of, for, in my poor judgement, I always thought that that vice consisted in recovering more money that what was lent.”
“You know little about it indeed,” he replied. “Usury, according to our fathers, consists in little more than the intention of taking the interest as usurious. Escobar, accordingly, shows you how you may avoid usury by a simple shift of the intention. ‘It would be downright usury,’ says he ‘to take interest from the borrower, if we should exact it as due in point of justice; but if only exacted as due in point of gratitude, it is not usury. Again, it is not lawful to have directly the intention of profiting by the money lent; but to claim it through the medium of the benevolence of the borrower — media benevolentia — is not usury.’ These are subtle methods; but, to my mind, the best of them all (for we have a great choice of them) is that of the Mohatra bargain.”
“The Mohatra, father!”
“You are not acquainted with it, I see,” returned he. “The name is the only strange thing about it. Escobar will explain it to you: ‘The Mohatra bargain is effected by the needy person purchasing some goods at a high price and on credit, in order to sell them over again, at the same time and to the same merchant, for ready money and at a cheap rate.’ This is what we call the Mohatra — a sort of bargain, you perceive, by which a person receives a certain sum of ready money by becoming bound to pay more.”
“But, sir, I really think nobody but Escobar has employed such a term as that; is it to be found in any other book?”
“How little you do know of what is going on, to be sure!” cried the father. “Why, the last work on theological morality, printed at Paris this very year, speaks of the Mohatra, and learnedly, too. It is called Epilogus Summarum, and is an abridgment of all the summaries of divinity — extracted from Suarez, Sanchez, Lessius, Fagundez, Hurtado, and other celebrated casuists, as the title bears. There you will find it said, on p. 54, that ‘the Mohatra bargain takes place when a man who has occasion for twenty pistoles purchases from a merchant goods to the amount of thirty pistoles, payable within a year, and sells them back to him on the spot for twenty pistoles ready money.’ This shows you that the Mohatra is not such an unheard-of term as you supposed.”
“But, father, is that sort of bargain lawful?”
“Escobar,” replied he, “tells us in the same place that there are laws which prohibit it under very severe penalties.”
“It is useless, then, I suppose?”
“Not at all; Escobar, in the same passage, suggests expedients for making it lawful: ‘It is so, even though the principal intention both of the buyer and seller is to make money by the transaction, provided the seller, in disposing of the goods, does not exceed their highest price, and in re-purchasing them does not go below their lowest price, and that no previous bargain has been made, expressly or otherwise.’ Lessius, however, maintains that ‘even though the merchant has sold his goods, with the intention of re-purchasing them at the lowest price, he is not bound to make restitution of the profit thus acquired, unless, perhaps, as an act of charity, in the case of the person from whom it had been exacted being in poor circumstances, and not even then, if he cannot do it without inconvenience — si commode non potest.’ This is the utmost length to which they could go.”
“Indeed, sir,” said I, “any further indulgence would, I should think, be rather too much.”
“Oh, our fathers know very well when it is time for them to stop!” cried the monk. “So much, then, for the utility of the Mohatra. I might have mentioned several other methods, but these may suffice; and I have now to say a little in regard to those who are in embarrassed circumstances. Our casuists have sought to relieve them, according to their condition of life. For, if they have not enough of property for a decent maintenance, and at the same time for paying their debts, they permit them to secure a portion by making a bankruptcy with their creditors. This has been decided by Lessius, and confirmed by Escobar, as follows: ‘May a person who turns bankrupt, with a good conscience keep back as much of his personal estate as may be necessary to maintain his family in a respectable way — ne indecore vivat? I hold, with Lessius, that he may, even though he may have acquired his wealth unjustly and by notorious crimes — ex injustilia et notorio delicto; only, in this case, he is not at liberty to retain so large an amount as he otherwise might.’”
“Indeed, father! what a strange sort of charity is this, to allow property to remain in the hands of the man who has acquired it by rapine, to support him in his extravagance rather than go into the hands of his creditors, to whom it legitimately belongs!”
“It is impossible to please everybody,” replied the father; “and we have made it our particular study to relieve these unfortunate people. This partiality to the poor has induced our great Vasquez, cited by Castro Palao, to say that ‘if one saw a thief going to rob a poor man, it would be lawful to divert him from his purpose by pointing out to him some rich individual, whom he might rob in place of the other.’ If you have not access to Vasquez or Castro Palao, you will find the same thing in your copy of Escobar; for, as you are aware, his work is little more than a compilation from twenty-four of the most celebrated of our fathers. You will find it in his treatise, entitled The Practice of our Society, in the Matter of Charity towards our Neighbours.”
“A very singular kind of charity this,” I observed, “to save one man from suffering loss, by inflicting it upon another! But I suppose that, to complete the charity, the charitable adviser would be bound in conscience to restore to the rich man the sum which he had made him lose?”
“Not at all, sir,” returned the monk; “for he did not rob the man — he only advised the other to do it. But only attend to this notable decision of Father Bauny, on a case which will still more astonish you, and in which you would suppose there was a much stronger obligation to make restitution. Here are his identical words: ‘A person asks a soldier to beat his neighbour, or to set fire to the barn of a man that has injured him. The question is whether, in the essence of the soldier, the person who employed him to commit these outrages is bound to make reparation out of his own pocket for the damage that has followed? My opinion is that he is not. For none can be held bound to restitution, where there has been no violation of justice; and is justice violated by asking another to do us a favour? As to the nature of the request which he made, he is at liberty either to acknowledge or deny it; to whatever side he may incline, it is a matter of mere choice; nothing obliges him to it, unless it may be the goodness, gentleness, and easiness of his disposition. If the soldier, therefore, makes no reparation for the mischief he has done, it ought not to be exacted from him at whose request he injured the innocent.’”
This sentence had very nearly broken up the whole conversation, for I was on the point of bursting int............