they exceed by 50 per cent. the sums laid down
in the theft table above quoted. But, in the
case of many thefts committed on various
persons at various times, the amount may reach
double the sum fixed for the limit of venial sin
in the former case, without becoming grave.

In the matter of fasting, also, venial sins run
up, by process of addition, into grave sins, at a very
alarming rate. For if you are, during the twenty-
four hours, tempted to taste of the forbidden
flesh-pots so often as to make up altogether half
an ounce, your case is "grave." One would say
that the thieving tariff was a far more liberal one.
It is necessary, moreover, to walk according to
very competent instruction in this matter of
fasting. For, the mass of regulations, exceptions,
and dispensations, make the code a very
intricate one. The broad rule is, that on fast-
days no animal food the produce of a warm-
blooded animal may be eaten. You may have a
dispensation from this. But, then, you must not
mix fish with your meat. Moreover, your fast-
day meal must be one only, and ought to be at
mid-day. How much in excess of that hour
would be "grave?"  A notable time. How
much is that? Some doctors think an hour.
Neither may you devote too long a time to your
one meal. How long is lawful? Some casuists
think it would take an hour, and some think it
would take two hours, to make this a "grave"
matter.

In some cases, the decisions of the scholastic
casuists are quite beyond the comprehension of
the untrained mind. It having been stated by the
Manual, for instance, in reply to the question,
"What are the causes which excuse the sin of
theft?" that these causes are two, viz. lawful
secret compensation, and extreme necessity; it
is added, that some doctors extend this also to
cases of "quasi extreme necessity." And this
latter condition is defined to be "that which
puts a man in probable danger of death, or of
mutilation, or of perpetual imprisonment, or of
great or perpetual disgrace, or of mortal malady."
Under these circumstances a man may lay his
hand on his neighbour's property without sin.
But it is added that he is bound to make
compensation for what he has stolen, should it ever
be in his power to do so. Which, although
somewhat slipshod morality, is so far intelligible
enough. But then comes a rider upon this last
condition, by which it is laid down that if a man
who steals the property of another in the time
of his extreme need, have at the moment of the
committal of such theft no hope of ever being
able to make restitution, then in such case he is
not bound to make restitution, even though in the
progress of events his circumstances should
become so much changed as to enable him to do so!

This, it must be confessed, does seem a most
inscrutable provision of casuistic learning. Let
us imagine, for example, a banker's clerk, who
confesses that he has been robbing his employer
during the whole of the last year. "That would
seem"—it would be the competent Confessor's
duty to say "very sinful at first sight. But
perhaps you were urged thereto by some
extreme or quasi-extreme necessity. Let me hear
what were the temptations which led you to do
this thing."

"Why, you must know, father," replies the
penitent, "that I have, for some time past, been
in the habit of betting on horse-races, and I had
all last year such a run of bad luck that I lost
much more than I could possibly pay."

"And pray," returns the ghostly counsellor,
"what would have been the result if you had not
paid the sums so lost?"

"It would have been all up with me at my club.
I could never have shown my face there again."

"Ha, never? If in truth you felt that the
result of leaving your losses unpaid would be
that you could never again have recovered
from the disgrace, it is a clear case of quasi-
extreme necessity, from fear of perpetual
infamy. And I am truly happy in being able to
tell you that you have not been guilty of any sin
in the matter. It is my duty, however, to point
out to you the necessity of restitution. Has
your fortune still continued so bad as to make
this wholly out of your power?"

"I can't say that it has, father," returns the
much comforted sinner. "I won a tidy sum on
the Derby last week, and was thinking that I
should now like to make it all square at the bank."

"And, perhaps," rejoins the spiritual
adviser, trained by the Manual, "you always
had the intention of doing so, if it should ever
be in your power, when you were led to rob the
bank by your fear of getting into disgrace at
your club?"

"I am afraid that I cannot sincerely say
so," replies this sinner saved, "for in truth
things were then so bad with me that I was
desperate, and never thought of anything of the
kind at the time."

"In that case," returns the Confessor, duly
up to his Manual, and prompt with his texts
and chapter-and-verse authorities—"in that case
you need not trouble yourself to make any
restitution at all; you committed no sin in stealing
your employer's cash, and no duty calls on you
to make good the property so stolen. Depart
in peace!" And S. S. goes on his way rejoicing
—towards Epsom Downs.

And, however startling such doctrine may
appear to uninitiated minds, it is impossible to
deny or to doubt that it results naturally, necessarily,
and by no forced construction or straining
of language, from the texts laid down
in the Manual from which I quote. Indeed,
whatever its other merits may be, the book
must be admitted to be a model of lucidity.
Memory only is required to make the student
of it a ripe and competent Confessor. And in
many cases the provision made for assisting
that faculty, after the fashion of our old As
in præsenti studies, is queer enough.

A calumniator is bound to undo the
mischief he has done, as far as possible, and
restore his victim's character.

"What are the cases in which a calumniator
is not bound to restore the character of him
calumniated?"