TO absolve oneself of the sin of detraction on the ground that nothing

but the truth was spoken is, as we have seen, one way of getting around

a difficulty that is no way at all. Some excuses are better than none,

others are not. It is precisely the truth of such talk that makes it

detraction; if it were not true, it would not be detraction but

calumny--another and a very different fault. It would be well for such

e to reflect for a moment, and ask themselves if their own

character would stand the strain of having their secret sins and

failings subjected to public criticism and censure, their private

shortcomings heralded from every housetop. Would they, or would they

not, consider themselves injured by such revelations? Then it would be

in order for them to use the same rule and measure in dealing with


He who does moral evil offends in the sight of God and forfeits God's

esteem and friendship. But it does not follow that he should also

forfeit the esteem of his fellow-men. The latter evil is nothing

compared with the first; but it is a great misfortune nevertheless. If

a man's private iniquity is something that concerns himself and his

God, to the exclusion of all others, then whosoever presumes to judge

and condemn him trespasses on forbidden ground, and is open to judgment

and condemnation himself before his Maker.

All do not live in stone mansions who throw stones. If there is a mote

in the neighbor's eye, perhaps there is a very large piece of timber in

your own. Great zeal in belaboring the neighbor for his faults will not

lessen your own, nor make you appear an angel of light before God when

you are something very different. If you employed this same zeal

towards yourself, you would obtain more consoling results, for charity

begins at home. One learns more examining one's own conscience than

dissecting and flaying others alive.

It may be objected that since detraction deals with secret sins, if the

facts related are of public notoriety, there is no wrong in speaking of

them, for you cannot vilify one who is already vilified. This is true;

and then, again, it depends. First, these faults must be of public

notoriety. A judicial sentence may make them such, but the fact that

some, many, or a great many know and speak of them will not do it. The

public is everybody, or nearly everybody. Do not take your friends for

the public, when they are only a fraction thereof. If you do you will

find out oftener than it is pleasant that your sins of detraction are

sins of slander; for rumors are very frequently based on nothing more

substantial than lies or distorted and exaggerated facts set afloat by

a calumniator.

Even when a person has justly forfeited, and publicly, the

consideration of his fellowmen, and it is not, therefore, injurious to

his character to speak of his evil ways, justice may not be offended,

but charity may be, and grievously. It is a sin, an uncharity, to harp

on one's faults in a spirit of spite, or with the cruel desire to

maintain his dishonor; to leave no stone unturned in order to

thoroughly blacken his name. In doing this you sin against charity,

because you do something you would not wish to have done unto you.

Justice itself would be violated if, even in the event of the facts

related being notorious, you speak of them to people who ignore them

and are not likely ever to come to a knowledge of them.

If you add, after telling all you know about a poor devil, that he did

penance and repaired his sin, you must not imagine that such atonement

will rehabilitate him in the minds of all. Men are more severe and

unforgiving than God. Grace may be recovered, but reputation is a thing

which, once lost, is usually lost for good. Something of the infamy

sticks; tears and good works will not, cannot wash it away. He,

therefore, who banks too much on human magnanimity is apt to err; and

his erring constitutes a fault.

"But I confided the secret to but one person; and that one a dear

friend, who promised to keep it." Yes, but the injured party has a

right to the estimation of that one person, and his injury consists

precisely in being deprived of it. Besides, you accuse yourself openly.

Either what you said was void of all harm, or it was not. In the one

case, why impose silence! In the other, why not begin yourself by

observing the silence you impose upon others! Your friend will do what

you did, and the ball you set rolling will not stop until there is

nothing left of your victim's character.

Of course there are times when to speak of another's faults is

derogatory neither to justice nor to charity; both may demand that the

evil be revealed. A man to defend himself may expose his accuser's

crookedness; in court his lawyer may do it for him, for here again

charity begins at home. In the interests of the delinquent, to effect

his correction, one may reveal his shortcomings to those who have

authority to correct. And it is even admitted that a person in trouble

of any kind may without sin, for the purpose of obtaining advice or

consolation, speak to a judicious friend of another's evil ways.

Zeal for the public good may not only excuse, but even require that the

true character of a bad man be shown up and publicly censured. Its

object is to prevent or undo evil, to protect the innocent; it is

intended to destroy an evil influence and to make hypocrisy fly under

his own colors. Immoral writers, living or dead, corrupt politicians

and demagogues, unconscionable wretches who prey on public ignorance,

may and should be, made known to the people, to shield them is to share

their guilt. This should not be done in a spirit of vengeance, but for

the sole purpose of guarding the unwary against vultures who know no

law, and who thrive on the simplicity of their hearers.