There's smiling in the distance hope.
SLANDER.—We seldom meet with a fearless, out-spoken rebuke of the sins of the tongue. Those who deal with evil-speaking seem usually afraid of committing themselves to the charge of an offence similar to that which they are rebuking. Not so Rev. Henry Steel Clarke, whose "Discourse," of which the following is a sample, goes straight to its mark as an arrow from the bow of a strong hand. Our readers will find pleasure as well as profit in these sentiments; they are accustomed to the language of truth in our pages, and will not feel the arrow pointed at any who are innocent. And the guilty, if such there be around our "Table," will read to profit by the pictures presented, and thank the good clergyman who, from the seclusion of his study, has breathed words that will reach and interest the inmates of thousands of homes in every section of our country:—
"Who slanders his neighbor is a—what is he? The signification of the term SLANDER, according to the best authority, is to belie; to speak falsely of. Who, then, slanders another, belies him—lies concerning him. Do not men forget this when they go about to blacken and vilify the character of their neighbors? And can they be justified in resorting to it for revenge? Is not the command, 'Thou shalt not bear false witness,' as binding as any of the ten? The fact that they can have satisfaction in no other way, offers no apology. To resort to it only increases their guilt. They thus, to falsehood, add the indulgence of a wicked spirit of retaliation. This, when God has said, 'Vengeance is mine.' They are bound, by all that is sacred and good, to submit in silence, rather than make such attempts to punish the injurious.
"It is to be remarked here that slanderous reports generally have an air of truth about them, which make them more prejudicial and hurtful than if they went in their own native garb. They seem ashamed of themselves. If they can steal the livery of truth, they hold up their heads and are sure of passing. Were every slanderous report branded with its own name, and called, as it should be, a lie, the evil done would be less. But, going forth with the semblance of probability, under a more specious garb than that of the direct and downright falsehood, the injury done is often greater even than that intended by the slanderer. Hence, only aggravated guilt. Men cannot be too cautious how little they say, which is true against others. Much less can they be too cautious how little they say which is positively false. Who love to hear themselves speak in this way will some time have abundant cause to regret their loquacity. Who love to speak lies may expect to gather fruit accordingly.
"There is another abuse of speech. It is not slander, but very like it. It has much of its meanness, and partakes of its guilt. They who indulge in it are the retailers of scandal. Their business argues a very morbid and sickly state of moral feeling. They are the snatchers up of inconsiderable trifles, who deal them out with infinite relish. They are traders in the small ware of slander, who magnify the value of their wares until they come to believe them real. The practice now referred to is that of reporting whatever one hears, adding, perhaps, a gloss of one's own; reporting it not perhaps upon the house-top—he might as well—but in the ears of others, until it becomes a common topic of conversation. What is peculiar to this is, that it is generally something prejudicial to the reputation or interests of his neighbor. To pry into that which is no concern of mine is mean. To report what I thus see and hear is contemptible. If this become general, no one is safe. All men would turn spies and scandal-mongers. No one will be safe, because no one's character will bear all kinds of exposure.
"Every man has his faults. Add to this that every man more quickly discovers his neighbor's than his own; then, that he is in a measure blind to his own, when discovered a beam is in his eye! and that this blindness is a magnifier to his neighbor's, and you have a sum total of probabilities, which renders it extremely likely that he who desires subjects for scandal will have realized his most sanguine expectations. Says the Latin fabulist, as I have some time read, speaking of the faults of men, 'Jupiter gives to every man two sacks: one with his own faults, to be carried on his back; another, with his neighbor's, to hang upon his breast'—
'On this account, man never can behold
His own, but can his neighbor's faults unfold.'