Abstract
This is the third of a series of works which Dr Kirk has written on moral theology. In the first of these, entitled Some Principles of Moral Theology, the author put forward ‘a tentative scheme for the development and teaching of moral theology in the Church of England’ – a scheme based upon the principles of Aquinas and their adaptation to Anglicanism by Sanderson and Jeremy Taylor. A later book, Ignorance, Faith and Conformity, defended the continuity of the Anglican development with ‘the fundamental principles of the moral theology and canon law of the past’. It is remarkable for its extension of the doctrine of invincible ignorance. The present book ‘addresses itself at once to the problems of law, conscience and casuistry’. It might have been more logical, the author admits, ‘to have started the detailed approach to moral theology by a discussion of the purpose of life’ – that is, of ultimate moral principles or values. ‘But,’ he says, ‘about the main principles of Christian conduct, as applicable to a civilization like our own, there is little controversy. Difficulties only begin with the discussion of the subordinate precepts dependent upon these main principles.’ The author’s statement of these principles and precepts depends mainly upon ecclesiastical tradition – the teaching of recognized doctors of the Church. The book is intended for Christians – indeed for members of the Anglican communion – and it is much concerned with that equilibrium of the principles of authority and liberty at which the Church of England may be said to aim. Further, the author thinks that the time is not yet ripe for a complete system of casuistry from his point of view. He is concerned that his method should be sound, and the ‘cases of conscience’ which he discusses, although important in themselves, are illustrations of method and do not pretend to be exhaustive. His own work is described as simply ‘prolegomena’ to the future science.
These limitations should be borne in mind in considering the detail of the book. It is divided into two parts. Part I, on ‘Conscience and Character’, has chapters on Conscience, Loyalty, Casuistry, and Casuistry and Christianity; Part II has chapters on Error, Doubt, and Perplexity: the first of these chapters dealing mainly with ecclesiastical discipline and liberty; the second containing sections on probabilism, the papal claims, birth-control, betting, and other topics; the third dealing, inter alia, with lies, general strikes, compromise, and commercial honesty. There are also some valuable additional notes at the end of the volume.
A book should be judged by the way in which the author has performed the task which he set himself. And I may say at once that it would be difficult to speak too highly of the author’s learning or of the candour with which each disputable question is discussed; in subtlety also he can hold his own with the most distinguished of his predecessors among the casuists; and both moral insight and practical good sense are conspicuous throughout the work. Dr Kirk, however, as he indicates in one place, is more anxious for criticism than for compliments; and it will not appear ungracious, I hope, if the space at my disposal is devoted to some comments, mostly of a general kind, on the limits which he has set to his enquiry and on their bearing on his results.
Doubts and perplexities as to what one ought to do are familiar experiences, and casuistry seeks to resolve them. How should it set about the task? It may appeal to ‘general principles’ of morality, or to ‘particular precepts’. Dr Kirk thinks that there can be little doubt about the former. I gather that they will include such moral laws as those enjoining veracity, promise-keeping, justice, mercy, beneficence. The most common traditional cases of conscience concern the application of these laws. Am I, for example, to tell the truth to the murderer in full cry after his victim? A few of the more rigid moralists might say that this is my duty. But, as Dr Kirk remarks, ‘unswerving rigidity in morality is bound to shipwreck upon the rocks of common sense’; and most moralists would think it right to save an innocent life at the expense of a lie. If they are right, the general principle of veracity is not quite universal. Again, ought I to tell the truth to any questioner although I have promised to keep the secret? Here the rigid moralist is in a fix, because he must break either the law of veracity or that of promise-keeping. The general principles, therefore, are not ultimate; and, if they may not be set aside at will (which no moralist or decent man would allow), then we must investigate the grounds which both give them validity and mark their limits. The utilitarians have done this in their own way and have thus reached a principle which gives guidance in the application of what are really only ‘middle axioms’ to the particulars of conduct. And, although their hedonistic interpretation of this principle may be rejected, they have at least suggested a method for the solution of casuistical questions. We must refer to the ultimate ground of goodness or of value.
I cannot but think, therefore, that, in declining to enter upon an enquiry of this kind, Dr Kirk leaves the science of casuistry hanging in the air between the ultimate good or ‘purpose of life’, which remains undefined, and the difficulties of conduct in which guidance is needed.
If the ultimate moral standard is not formulated, and if the proximate standards are liable to variation and exception, how are we to determine the value of particulars, especially in difficult cases? If we are concerned about such things, we shall be apt to stick rather closely to our authorities, forgetful that they were men like ourselves and liable to err …
Regius Professor of Moral Philosophy, Aberdeen
Originally published in Theology 15 (90): 344–7 <https://doi.org/10.1177/0040571X2701509012>.