the "true cause" of my practising, not that virtue, but some other? *

We do not deny that, according to Lugo's doctrine, a "virtual" intention may very frequently motive an act, without having been preceded by a corresponding "explicit "intention at all. But we do not see any difficulty in this conclusion. And indeed we should point out that, for our own purpose, the preceding paragraphs have not been strictly necessary. If indeed we were building on theological statements concerning "virtual intention," it would be strictly necessary to inquire what theologians mean by that term. But our own argument is logically untouched, if we simply say that (in what follows) we ourselves at least shall consistently use the term “virtual intention," as simply synonymous with "implicit."

We wish we had space to pursue this whole theme of "virtual" or "implicit" intention, at a length worthy of its pre-eminent importance; but we must find space for an illustrative instance. Some considerable time ago men of the world were in the habit of using much indecent language in mutual conversation while nevertheless they thought it thoroughly ungentlemanly so to speak in the presence of ladies. We will suppose two gentlemen of the period to be talking with each other, while some lady is in the room, occupied (we will say) in writing a letter. They are wholly engrossed, so far as they are themselves aware, with the subject they are upon; politics, or the Stock Exchange, or sporting. They are not explicitly thinking of the lady at all; and yet, if they are really gentlemen, her presence exercises on them a most real and practical influence. It is not that they fall into bad language and then apologize; on the contrary, they are so restrained by her presence that they do not dream of such expressions. Yet, on the other hand, no one will say that the freedom of their thought and speech is explicitly perceived by them to be interfered with. Their careful abstinence then from foul language is due indeed to an intention actually present in their mind; the intention, namely, of not distressing the lady who is present. Yet this intention is entirely implicit; and they will not even become aware of its existence, except by means of careful introspection. And this, we would submit (if we may here anticipate our coming argument), is that kind of practical remembrance and impression concerning God's intimate presence, which it is of such singular importance that I preserve through the day. What I need (we say) is a practical remembrance and impression,

* In which of its many senses S. Bonaventure here uses the word "cause," there is no need to inquire.

which shall really inflow into my thoughts and powerfully influence them; while nevertheless it shall be altogether implicit, and shall therefore in no perceptible degree affect my power of applying freely and without incumbrance to my various duties as they successively occur. And this indeed is surely the very blessing which a Catholic supplicates, when he prays each morning that "a pure intention may sanctify his acts of the day."

But this very prayer itself is sometimes perverted into what we must really call a mischievous superstition. A certain notion seems more or less consciously to be in some persons' minds, of which it is absolutely necessary to show the entire baselessness, if we would exhibit a conspectus of man's moral action with any kind of intelligibleness and availableness. The Catholic is taught to pray in the morning that a pure intention may sanctify his actions of the day as they successively take place. But a notion seems here and there to exist, that these successive actions have already been sanctified by anticipation, in his morning oblation of them. This strange notion assumes two different shapes, and issues accordingly in one or other of two importantly distinct tenets. One of these tenets we will at once proceed to consider; while the other will find a fit place for discussion a few pages further on.

Some persons then have apparently brought themselves to think, that if in the morning I offer to God all my future acts of the day, I thereby secure beforehand the virtuousness of all those which are not actually evil in object or circumstance. I secure this virtuousness, they think, because by my morning's good intention I secure, that the same good intention shall virtually motive them when they actually occur. But, as Billuart demands (Walsh, n. 668), “if any one, who has in the morning offered his acts to God, be afterwards asked (when he is dining or walking) for what reason he dines or walks, who will say that such a man can truly answer, 'I am doing so in virtue of my intention made this morning." And the following passage from F. Nepveu, S.J., is so admirably clear on the subject, that we can add nothing of our own to its unanswerable argument :

When this intention is so far removed from the time of action as happens if one is contented with offering one's actions in the morning, there is reason for fear that this intention will gradually become fainter and even come entirely to an end. . . . so that it shall not inflow at all into the action. Moreover-since we have a profound depth of self-love-unless we bestow great attention on ourselves and much vigilance on all our [interior] movements, it is difficult to prevent the result, that there escape from us a thousand . . . . movements of vanity; sensuality; desire to please mankind and ourselves; in fact

a thousand human respects; which are so many retractations of our morning intention, and therefore destroy it entirely.-L'esprit de Christianisme, pp. 95, 96.

V. In order that some given act be virtuous, theologians commonly require that its virtuousness be directly intended; though such intention of course need be no more than "virtual.” Dr. Walsh says (n. 397) that this proposition is maintained by all theologians except a very few (paucissimos); and its truth is most manifest on grounds of reason. Take an illustration. I am very desirous (for some special purpose) of conciliating the favour of my rich neighbour A. B. Among other things which I do to please him, I repay him a small sum he had lent me; and I make him a present of some picture, to which he took a fancy when he was paying me a visit. My one motive for both these acts is precisely the same-viz., my desire to be in his good books. Suppose it were said that-whereas the second of these two acts may be indifferent-the first at all events is virtuous under the head of justice, because the repayment of a debt is an act of that virtue: every one would see that such a statement is the climax of absurdity.

On the other hand (as Dr. Walsh proceeds to point out) it is by no means requisite-in order to the virtuousness of an actthat its virtuousness be at the moment the absolute end of my action. Suppose I give alms to the deserving poor, in order that I may gain a heavenly reward. Here the virtuousness of almsgiving is directly intended; for it is that very virtuousness, which is my means towards my retribution: yet this virtuousness is (by hypothesis) desired only as a means, and not as the absolute end of my action. Most persons will at once admit, that such an act is a truly virtuous act of almsgiving. On the other hand suppose I give alms, merely in order that my outward act may become known and help me to a seat in Parliament— it would be (as we have said) the climax of absurdity to allege that my act of almsgiving is virtuous as such.

There is one class of actions however, which claims further attention. Suppose I do some act entirely for the sake of pleasurableness; but, before doing it, I carefully ponder whether the act be a morally lawful one, being resolved otherwise to abstain therefrom. Dr. Walsh (n. 623) refers to this case, and quotes Viva on it; but we do not think that Viva quite does justice to such an act as he supposes. He holds that such an act is neither virtuous nor sinful, but indifferent. We think he would have been much nearer the truth, had he said that it is virtuous. But the true account of the matter (we think) is as follows. In this, as in so many other cases, the will's movement may be decomposed into two simultaneous acts. One of

these acts is; "I would not do what I am doing, were it opposed to morality:" and this is obviously most virtuous. As to the other act-the mere pursuit of pleasurableness-under such circumstances, we submit, it is neither virtuous nor sinful, but indifferent.

This will be our appropriate place for considering the second tenet, concerning the matutinal oblation of my day's acts, to which we have already referred. According to the first tenet on this subject the tenet which we have already criticizedthis obligation secures the result, that my morning intention shall really motive all my subsequent acts of the day, one by one, which are not actually evil in object or circumstances. This is to be sure a most singular notion; but some persons seem to hold another, indefinitely more amazing. They seem to hold, that even though the morning intention do not in fact motive these acts, nevertheless it makes them intrinsically virtuous. This allegation seems to us so transparently unreasonable, that we feel a real perplexity in divining, how any one even of the most ordinary thoughtfulness can have dreamed of accepting it. We quite understand that God, by His free appointment, may bestow gifts upon a human being, in consideration of what is not virtuous in him at all; as, e.g., in an infant's reception of Baptism, or the Martyrdom of the Holy Innocents. And we understand the doctrine, held (we fancy) by many Protestants, that some act, not intrinsically virtuous, is often extrinsically acceptable to God. But we really do not see how it is less than a contradiction in terms to say, that a given act is made intrinsically virtuous, by a certain circumstance which is no intrinsic part of it whatever. Yesterday afternoon I elicited a certain act; and this afternoon I elicit another, which is precisely similar to yesterday's in every single intrinsic circumstance without exception. Yet the act of yesterday afternoon forsooth was virtuous, whereas the act of this afternoon is otherwise; because yesterday morning I made an oblation of my day's acts, and this morning I made no such oblation. You may as well say that my evening cup of tea is sweet, because I put a lump of sugar into the cup which I drank at breakfast. Lugo gives expression to this self-evident principle, by taking the particular case of temperance at meals. You and I are both at dinner; our will is directed (suppose) in precisely the same way to precisely the same ends; and our external acts also are precisely similar. Yet it shall be judged that you are eating virtuously and I otherwise, because in the morning you referred your acts to God and I did not. No doubt your morning's oblation may have given you great assistance in making your present act intrinsically virtuous, by facilitating your present

reference of that act to a good end. But the act is intrinsically affected by what is intrinsic, not by what is extrinsic. And so Lugo points out; assuming the theological principle, that no act is meritorious which is not intrinsically virtuous. "He who in the morning refers all his acts to God-if afterwards, when he is at dinner, is in just the same state of mind as though he had not elicited that matutinal intention, and if his action of eating does not arise from that matutinal intention or from some other good and virtuous one-that man no more merits through his present act, than he would if he had never formed such preceding intention if at all." ("De Penitentiâ," d. 7, n. 39.) Sporer states the same proposition very earnestly and emphatically; adding, that such is the common doctrine of theologians. He does not mention indeed so much as one on the opposite side. ("De Actibus," n. 22.)

On this profoundly practical doctrine, we cannot better conclude our remarks than by citing the noble passage from Aguirre, with which Dr. Walsh concludes his volume (nn. 690-692.) It refers however—as our readers will observe-not to a virtuous intention generally, but to that particular virtuous intention which motives an act of sovereign love.

Wherefore before all things I admonish-and entreat all theologians to inculcate and preach as a most wholesome doctrine-that each man endeavour, with the whole earnestness and fervour of his mind, to practise continuously and assiduously (so far as this fragile and mortal life permits) the exercise of referring explicitly himself and all his thoughts, affections, words, and works to God, loved for His own sake. For he should not be content if once or [even] at various times in the day he do this; but he ought frequently to insert [explicitly into his daily life] that sacrifice of mind, which is far more acceptable to God than all other homages in the matter of the moral virtues.

VI. Passing now to another matter how are we to measure the degree of virtuousness or sinfulness, in virtuous and sinful acts respectively? It is evident that this consideration must proceed, in the two respective cases, on principles fundamentally different for in a virtuous act its virtuousness must of necessity be directly intended; whereas in a sinful act its sinfulness cannot by possibility be intended at all as an absolute end. We will take the two classes therefore separately.

As to virtuous acts—it is held (we suppose) by all theologians that, cæteris paribus, an act is more virtuous, in proportion as it is directed to virtuousness with greater vigour and efficacity.*

* We find it somewhat hard to find out in what sense theologians use the word "intensio." Do they use it to express "vigour," efficacity"? or do they rather use it to express effort"? The two ideas are very

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