Words determine the trend of human events. They make sad or glad the years
we live. Like flowers or tares sown along the highway of life, they make
every landscape a little brighter or a little less lovely.
The tongue is equally capable of being the messenger of angels or of
spirits of evil. It can sting like an adder. A thrust of the dagger or the
sharp sting of a bullet, and all is over; but the sting of a hard word
abides through the years. It warps, withers, and embitters everything it
touches. The human heart shrivels under it like the drooping of a tender
plant beneath the direct rays of the burning sun.
But a word in due season, how good is it! It helps the weary to take
courage again. It helps the broken life to make another effort. It revives
drooping hopes and purposes. It counts for more than could a gift of gold
or a bestowal of power.
A dozen years ago a school boy was standing, tired and discouraged, in the
shadow of a dark stairway on the public square of the town. He was away
from home, and he was almost down to his last cent. He was not sure
whether his hard efforts were worth the while. He heard an approaching
step. It was one of his teachers. He drew farther back, not expecting the
teacher to see him, but the teacher did. He stopped and said a good word
for something the young fellow had done. That was all it took to put fresh
courage into a weary heart. Today that boy, now become a man, is still
toiling on, trying to do something worth the doing. He is still at it for
the sake of a simple sentence or two—in due season.
The value of a word is so great that the name best befits the nature of
the Master. In the first chapter of the Gospel according to John, we find
that Jesus is repeatedly referred to as the Word of God. He is, indeed,
an expression of that which men had so long thought to be inexpressible.
A Word, made flesh, He came and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory.
Words slip back the shutters from the windows of the inner life. It is out
of the abundance of the heart that the mouth is sure to speak. The tongue
is daily engaged in drawing an open picture of the heart. The very
vocabulary of a person will tell you the story of what goes on in the
silence of his thoughts.
The power of uplifting speech and the right to enjoy helpful conversation
are high privileges. When a group of people are together, a splendid
opportunity is afforded for conversation which is not only self-improving
but also mutually helpful. It is worse than a tragedy when that
never-recurring time is spent in conversation concerning what is foolish
and evil. Is it not a standing wonder that, when there are so many worthy
themes, anyone should be willing to allow his conversation to keep the
slimy level of the soil?
Words should pay respect to the dignity and beauty of language. Language
has a majesty peculiarly its own, and its sanctity ought never to be
violated. It is violated, frequently, in two especial ways.
The first is by the way of slang. Those who allow themselves to grow
accustomed to slangy expressions do themselves and their language alike a
great injustice. They do themselves an injustice because speech so surely
marks the man, and the world will always take it as an indicator of
character. They do their language an injustice because every deviation
from its defined paths tends to break down its dignity and power.
Of course, slang is not a cardinal sin, but it is like a good many other
things that are not cardinal sins in that the tendency is a bad one. The
cardinal sins are less dangerous because we are more afraid of them.
The second is by the way of extravagant and untrue utterance. Enough
people have gone “simply crazy” about things to fill all the insane
asylums to overflowing, and it is a marvel how the cemeteries continue to
provide room for all the people who have been tickled or scared “to death”
or who have encountered so many things that were “simply killing.” The
users of these terms are people who have not stopped to contemplate the
fact that simple English is always sufficient for the telling of the
whole truth.
Words are certain to react upon the speaker. The effect upon others of a
word let fly is equalled only by its effect upon the person who says it.
In other words, speech possesses boomerang qualities.
Just after William Henry Harrison had been nominated for the presidency in
1840, a Baltimore newspaper contemptuously called attention to his humble
habitat by referring to him as “Log Cabin Harrison.” Instead of arousing
prejudice against him, as the utterance was meant to do, it only stirred
up a great popular enthusiasm in his behalf. The public took up the cry as
a slogan; the log cabin became the campaign symbol; and William Henry
Harrison was elected.
When John Wesley and a number of his fellow students who felt a desire for
a deeper religious life formed a “Holy Club” at Oxford University, they
became so methodical in their habits and work that other students of the
university dubbed them “Methodists.” The name not only did not militate
against them but John Wesley remained a Methodist, and tens of thousands
have been proud to bear the name that was first bestowed as an epithet
of disgrace.
If there was anything derisive in the voice of Pilate when he exclaimed
“Behold the man,” his derision has been increasingly mocked by the voice
of history. All the years have been obeying the command of the Roman
governor. They have been beholding not only Jesus but Pilate also, to the
increasing fame and power of the one and the growing shame of the other.
If there was any taint of sarcasm in the words Pilate ordered placed at
the head of the Cross, the years have turned it into living truth. The
words have risen up to mock their maker.
Slander is more than half the time the offspring of jealousy and envy.
The reason for a great deal of unjust and unkind comment is to be found
in the proneness of man to condemn his brother most fiercely for that
fault which lies most deeply imbedded in his own life. Adverse criticism
is never a proper topic of conversation. The chances are so great against
the justice and truth of a harsh judgment that it should never have a
place in human speech.
One reason for this is the fact that one never knows the inner story of
his neighbor’s life. It is easy to fail to take into account the secret
effort, the unknown struggle, the unheralded difficulty. Others have
battles to fight and obstacles with which to contend of which we will
never know. It may be, furthermore, that in their situation we would not
do so well as they.
Another reason is the fact that we are not commissioned a race of judges
and set to determine the guilt and weigh the faults of mankind. Even if
it were our business to be judges, we should be poor ones indeed if we
failed to give the accused the benefit of the doubt. There is plenty of
time to speak when one can speak from indisputable facts.
There is an unwritten law which forbids speaking against the dead. It may
be wrong to speak against those who can no longer lift their voices in
their own defense, but it may also be remembered that, though the dead
cannot defend themselves, neither do they need to do so. They can no
longer be harmed by the shaft of malice, and will slumber as sweetly under
the poison breath of the fault-finder as beneath the perfumed words of
affection and appreciation. With the living it is different. They still
care what men think of and say about them. They can feel the stir of joy
and the sting of pain. They respond to kindness and recoil from the bitter
and unjust word. If a word is to be spoken against anybody, it is far
better that it be against the dead and that the living be spared the
destruction of their all.
One of the best services to render to the world is to breathe a helpful
word upon it. It will be like a shower of cooling moisture on a field
grown dry and dead. In it you send forth a messenger imperishable. It
will echo where you little know, and it will speak for you when your lips
of clay can speak no more.