In our county, there is a scold’s bridle (an iron frame around the head with a sharp bit entering the mouth) which was used in years gone by to keep women’s tongues from troubling their husbands and their neighbors. They did strange things in those good old times. Was this a proof of the wisdom of our ancestors, or was it a bit of needless cruelty?
There is a common notion that women do a world of mischief with their tongues. Is it so or not? John Ploughman will leave somebody else to answer. He likes a dish of chat as well as anybody; only John does not care for cracking people’s characters, and hates the slander which is so sweet to some people’s teeth. John puts the question to wiser men than himself: Was that old prayer a needful one–“From big guns and women’s tongues deliver us”?
John has a good and quiet wife of his own, whose voice is so sweet that he cannot hear it too often, and therefore he is not a fair judge; but he is half afraid that some other women would sooner preach than pray. Still what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, and some men are quite as bad in this department. If there is a little cat in every woman, there is a great deal of the wolf in every man.
What a pity that there is not a tax on words: what an income would come from it; but, alas, talking pays no toll! And if lies paid double, the government might pay off the national debt; but who could collect the money?
Hearsay is half lies. But a half lie soon grows into a full one. A tale never loses in the telling. As a snowball grows by rolling, so does a story.
If men only said what was true, what a peaceable world we should see! Silence often is wisdom. By this rule, wise men and wise women are scarce. Still waters are the deepest; but the shallowest brooks brawl the most. An open mouth shows an empty head. If the chest had gold or silver in it, it would not always stand open. Talking comes by nature, but it needs a good deal of training to learn to be quiet; yet regard for truth should put a bit into every honest man’s mouth, and a bridle upon every good woman’s tongue.
If we must talk, at least let us be free from slander, nor blister our tongues with backbiting. Slander may be sport to talebearers, but it is death to those whom they abuse. We can commit murder with the tongue as well as with the hand. The worst evil you can do a man is to injure his character. The Quaker said to his dog, “I’ll not beat thee, nor abuse thee, but I’ll give thee an ill name.”
All are not thieves that dogs bark at, but they are generally treated as if they were. The world for the most part believes that where there is smoke there is fire, and what everybody says must be true. Let us then be careful that we do not hurt our neighbor in so tender a point as his character, for it is hard to get dirt off if it is once thrown on; and when a man is once in people’s bad books, he is hardly ever quite out of them. If we would be sure not to speak amiss, it might be as well to speak as little as possible. If all men’s sins were divided into two bundles, half of them would be sins of the tongue. “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body.”
Gossips of both genders, give up the shameful trade of talebearing; don’t be the Devil’s bellows to blow up the fire of strife. Leave off setting people by the ears. If you do not cut a bit off your tongues, at least season them with the salt of grace. Praise God more and blame neighbors less. Any goose can cackle, any fly can find out a sore place, any empty barrel can give forth sound, any brier can tear a man’s flesh.
Think much, but say little. Be quick at work and slow at talk; above all, ask the Lord to set a watch over your lips.