On Slander.
Rash judgment produces uneasiness, contempt for our neighbour, pride, and complacency in ourselves, and a hundred other most pernicious effects, among which slander holds first place, as the true plague of conversation. Oh! that I had one of the coals from the holy altar to touch men’s lips and purify them from their sins, as a seraph once purified the lips of the prophet Isaiah! Whoever would remove slander from the world would remove one of the greatest causes of sin that exist.
If anyone unjustly takes from his neighbour his good reputation, besides the sin he commits, he is bound to make reparation, according to the nature of the slander; for no one can enter Heaven with another’s goods, and of all external goods, reputation is the most precious. Slander is a kind of murder; for we have three lives: the spiritual, which consists in the grace of God; the bodily, of which the soul is the principle; and the civil, which consists in reputation. Sin takes away the first, death takes away the second, and slander takes away the third. But the slanderer has this peculiarity, that with a single stroke of the tongue he ordinarily commits three murders: he kills his own soul and the soul of him who listens to him, by a spiritual homicide, and he takes away the civil life of him whom he slanders; for, as Saint Bernard said, both the slanderer and the one who listens to him have the devil upon them; but the one has him upon his tongue, and the other in his ear. David says, speaking of slanderers, that _they have sharpened their tongues like the tongue of a serpent_. Now, the serpent’s tongue is forked and has two points, as Aristotle observes; and such indeed is the tongue of the slanderer, who with a single stroke pierces and poisons the ear of him who listens, and the reputation of him of whom he speaks.
Rash judgment produces uneasiness, contempt for our neighbour, pride, and complacency in ourselves, and a hundred other most pernicious effects, among which slander holds first place, as the true plague of conversation. Oh! that I had one of the coals from the holy altar to touch men’s lips and purify them from their sins, as a seraph once purified the lips of the prophet Isaiah! Whoever would remove slander from the world would remove one of the greatest causes of sin that exist.
If anyone unjustly takes from his neighbour his good reputation, besides the sin he commits, he is bound to make reparation, according to the nature of the slander; for no one can enter Heaven with another’s goods, and of all external goods, reputation is the most precious. Slander is a kind of murder; for we have three lives: the spiritual, which consists in the grace of God; the bodily, of which the soul is the principle; and the civil, which consists in reputation. Sin takes away the first, death takes away the second, and slander takes away the third. But the slanderer has this peculiarity, that with a single stroke of the tongue he ordinarily commits three murders: he kills his own soul and the soul of him who listens to him, by a spiritual homicide, and he takes away the civil life of him whom he slanders; for, as Saint Bernard said, both the slanderer and the one who listens to him have the devil upon them; but the one has him upon his tongue, and the other in his ear. David says, speaking of slanderers, that _they have sharpened their tongues like the tongue of a serpent_. Now, the serpent’s tongue is forked and has two points, as Aristotle observes; and such indeed is the tongue of the slanderer, who with a single stroke pierces and poisons the ear of him who listens, and the reputation of him of whom he speaks.
I beseech you therefore, dear Philothea, never to speak ill of anyone, either directly or indirectly: beware of imputing false crimes to your neighbour, or of revealing those that are secret, or of exaggerating those that are known, or of misinterpreting his good works, or of denying the good which you know to be in anyone, or of maliciously concealing it, or of diminishing it by your words; for in all this you would greatly offend God, especially if it were by falsely accusing your neighbour, or by denying the truth to his prejudice; for then there would be the double sin of lying and harming your neighbour.
Those who prepare the way for detraction with honourable preliminaries, or mingle their detractions with little courtesies and witty sayings, are the most subtle and dangerous detractors of all. I protest, they say, that I love him, and that, for the rest, he is a fine fellow; but still the truth must be told: he was wrong to commit that treachery. She is a very virtuous girl, but she was taken by surprise; and other such turns of phrase. Do you not see the artifice? He who would shoot an arrow draws it as far back as he can; but it is only to send it forth with greater force; so too these seem to draw back their detraction, but only to shoot it forth more sharply, that it may pierce more deeply into the hearts of those present.
Those who prepare the way for detraction with honourable preliminaries, or mingle their detractions with little courtesies and witty sayings, are the most subtle and dangerous detractors of all. I protest, they say, that I love him, and that, for the rest, he is a fine fellow; but still the truth must be told: he was wrong to commit that treachery. She is a very virtuous girl, but she was taken by surprise; and other such turns of phrase. Do you not see the artifice? He who would shoot an arrow draws it as far back as he can; but it is only to send it forth with greater force; so too these seem to draw back their detraction, but only to shoot it forth more sharply, that it may pierce more deeply into the hearts of those present.
Detraction uttered in jest is even more cruel than all the rest. For, as hemlock is not in itself a very violent poison, but on the contrary rather slow in its effects, and easy to counteract, whereas, when taken with wine, it is irremediable; so detraction, which of itself would pass lightly in at one ear and out at the other, remains firmly in the minds of the hearers when accompanied by some subtle and merry word. To those who detract in this manner, these words of David may be applied: _They have the poison of asps under their lips._ Indeed, the asp inflicts its bite almost imperceptibly, and its venom first excites a pleasant itching, by means of which the heart and entrails are dilated and receive the poison, so that thereafter no remedy can be applied.
Say not, This man is a drunkard, because you have seen him drunk, nor, This man is a thief, because you once caught him stealing; for a single act does not constitute a habit. The sun once stood still in favour of Joshua’s victory, and was darkened another time in favour of that of the Saviour: yet none will say that it is motionless or dark. Noah was drunken once, and Lot another time; yet neither was a drunkard, any more than Saint Peter was bloodthirsty for having once shed blood, or a blasphemer for having once blasphemed. The name of vicious or virtuous implies the habit of vice or virtue: it is therefore a falsehood to say that a man is passionate or a rogue, because you have once seen him give way to anger or steal. And even if a man had been vicious for a long time, you would still risk lying by calling him so. Simon the Leper called Magdalen a sinner, because she had once been one: yet he lied; for she was so no longer, but a most holy penitent: and so Our Lord took her under His protection. The Pharisee regarded the publican as a great sinner, perhaps stained with injustice, adultery, and theft; but he was greatly mistaken; for at that very moment the publican had just been justified. Alas! since God’s goodness is so great that a single moment suffices to obtain and receive His grace, what assurance can we have that a man who was a sinner yesterday is still one today? The preceding day must not judge the present day, nor the present day the preceding day: only the last day must judge all the others.
We can therefore never say that a man is wicked without danger of lying. What we may say, if there be occasion to speak of it, is that he did such and such an evil deed; that he lived badly at such a time, that now he does evil. But we can draw no conclusion from yesterday to today, nor from today to yesterday, and still less from today to tomorrow.
Although we ought to be extremely careful not to speak ill of our neighbour, we must nevertheless beware of another excess into which many fall: namely, to avoid detraction by praising vice. If someone is truly slanderous, do not excuse him by saying that he is free-spoken and frank; if someone is manifestly vain, do not say that he is noble and generous; do not call dangerous familiarities simplicity or naivety; do not disguise disobedience under the name of zeal, nor arrogance under the name of frankness, nor impurity under the name of friendship. No, dear Philothea, in order to flee the vice of detraction, we must not favour, flatter, or nourish other vices; rather, we must speak plainly and frankly against evil, and blame blameworthy things; and this will redound only to the glory of God, provided the following conditions be observed:
First, in order to blame the vices of others, it must be required for the benefit either of the person of whom one speaks or of the person to whom one speaks. For example, young people are told of the thoughtless behaviour of certain men and women, which is manifestly perilous; of the dissolute conduct of some man or woman, in words or deeds manifestly evil. If I do not openly blame this evil, and would excuse it, these tender souls, who are listening, may take occasion to do something similar; their benefit therefore requires that I blame such things quite frankly and without delay, unless I can do so at a more opportune time, when the reputation of those of whom one speaks will suffer less.
Although we ought to be extremely careful not to speak ill of our neighbour, we must nevertheless beware of another excess into which many fall: namely, to avoid detraction by praising vice. If someone is truly slanderous, do not excuse him by saying that he is free-spoken and frank; if someone is manifestly vain, do not say that he is noble and generous; do not call dangerous familiarities simplicity or naivety; do not disguise disobedience under the name of zeal, nor arrogance under the name of frankness, nor impurity under the name of friendship. No, dear Philothea, in order to flee the vice of detraction, we must not favour, flatter, or nourish other vices; rather, we must speak plainly and frankly against evil, and blame blameworthy things; and this will redound only to the glory of God, provided the following conditions be observed:
First, in order to blame the vices of others, it must be required for the benefit either of the person of whom one speaks or of the person to whom one speaks. For example, young people are told of the thoughtless behaviour of certain men and women, which is manifestly perilous; of the dissolute conduct of some man or woman, in words or deeds manifestly evil. If I do not openly blame this evil, and would excuse it, these tender souls, who are listening, may take occasion to do something similar; their benefit therefore requires that I blame such things quite frankly and without delay, unless I can do so at a more opportune time, when the reputation of those of whom one speaks will suffer less.
Secondly, that I have some obligation to speak on this subject; as, for instance, if I am among the foremost of the company, so that my silence might pass for approval: whereas, if I am among the least, I ought not to undertake to censure anything, but must be perfectly measured in my expressions, so as not to say a single word too much. If, for example, I blame the familiarities of this young man and this young woman, O God! Philothea, I must hold the balance very true, so as not to magnify the matter, not even by a hair’s breadth: if there is but a slight appearance, I will say no more than that; if there is but a mere imprudence, I will say no more; if there is neither imprudence nor any real appearance of evil, but only something that might give a malicious mind occasion to speak ill, I will either say nothing at all, or say just that. My tongue, while I speak of my neighbour, is in my mouth like a razor in the hand of a surgeon who would cut between nerves and tendons. The stroke I make must be so exact that I say neither more nor less than what is true.
Lastly, in censuring vice, one must spare as much as possible the person in whom it is found. Nevertheless, one may speak freely of infamous, public, and notorious sinners, provided it be in a spirit of charity and compassion, and not with arrogance and presumption, nor taking pleasure in another’s misfortune; for this latter is the mark of a vile and base heart. I except from this rule the avowed enemies of God and His Church; for these must be denounced as much as one can, as are the leaders of heresies and schisms; it is charity to cry out “Wolf!” when he is among the sheep, wherever he may be.
Lastly, in censuring vice, one must spare as much as possible the person in whom it is found. Nevertheless, one may speak freely of infamous, public, and notorious sinners, provided it be in a spirit of charity and compassion, and not with arrogance and presumption, nor taking pleasure in another’s misfortune; for this latter is the mark of a vile and base heart. I except from this rule the avowed enemies of God and His Church; for these must be denounced as much as one can, as are the leaders of heresies and schisms; it is charity to cry out “Wolf!” when he is among the sheep, wherever he may be.
Everyone takes it upon himself to judge and censure princes, and to speak ill of whole nations, according to the various sentiments with which he is affected towards them. Philothea, commit not this fault; for, besides offending God, you might bring upon yourself a thousand vexations.
When you hear your neighbour spoken ill of, cast doubt upon the accusation, if you can justly do so; if you cannot, excuse the accused person’s intention; if that cannot be done, show compassion for his state; turn aside the dart, remembering and reminding the company that those who fall not into fault owe it solely to the grace of God; recall the backbiter to himself by some gentle means, and speak of the offended person all the good you know of him.
When you hear your neighbour spoken ill of, cast doubt upon the accusation, if you can justly do so; if you cannot, excuse the accused person’s intention; if that cannot be done, show compassion for his state; turn aside the dart, remembering and reminding the company that those who fall not into fault owe it solely to the grace of God; recall the backbiter to himself by some gentle means, and speak of the offended person all the good you know of him.