se on the treadmill, he loathes
the idea of picking oakum, and his gorge rises at the thought of brown
bread and skilly. But so long as that danger is avoided, there are hosts
of witnesses, most of them very good Christians, who have been suckled
on the Gospel in Sunday Schools, and fed afterwards on the strong meat
of the Word in churches and chapels, who will swear fast and loose after
calling God to witness to their veracity. They ask the Almighty to
deal with them according as they tell the truth, yet for all that they
proceed to tell the most unblushing lies. What is the reason of this
strange inconsistency? Simply this. Hell is a long way off, and many
things may happen before the Day of Judgment. Besides, God is merciful;
he is always ready to forgive sins; a man has only to repent in time,
that is a few minutes before death, and all his sins will be washed
out in the cleansing blood of Christ. Notwithstanding all his lies in
earthly courts, the repentant sinner will not lose his right of walking
about for ever and ever in the court of heaven, although some poor devil
whose liberty or property he swore away may be frizzling for ever and
ever in hell.
We are strongly of opinion that if the oath were abolished altogether
there would be fewer falsehoods told in our public courts. No doubt
the law of perjury has some effect, but it is less than is generally
imagined, partly because the law is difficult to apply, and partly
because there is a wide disinclination to apply it, owing to a sort
of freemasonry in false witness, which is apt to be regarded as an
essential part of the game of litigation. Here and there, too, there
may be a person of sincere piety, who fears to tell a lie in what he
considers the direct presence of God. But for the most part the fear of
punishment, in this world or in the next, will not make men veracious.
The fact is proved by universal experience; nay, there are judges, as
well as philosophers, who openly declare that the oath has a direct
tendency to create perjury. Anyone, with a true sense of morality will
understand the reason of this. Fear is not a moral motive; and when the
threatened punishment is very remote or very uncertain, it has next to
no deterrent effect. Cupidity is matched against fear, and the odds of
the game being in its favor, it wins. But if a moral motive is appealed
to, the case is different. Many a man will tell a lie in the witness-box
who would scruple to do so "
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