Advice to Young Ladies/Chapter 8
Chapter VIII.
Gossipping and Evil-Speaking.
These are faults into which the young and thoughtless are very apt to be betrayed, and to indulge in to a most unjustifiable and sometimes pernicious extent, whereby the most trivial failing of a companion is magnified into a very serious offence against propriety, or an unguarded word made to do an injury never intended by the one who uttered it.
A young lady should be very guarded, indeed, about speaking evil of any one, and equally so how she repeats the disparaging remarks of another. Much of this evil speaking arises from thoughtless misjudgments of those who happen not to be very much liked. Whatever they do or say is seen through a false medium, that gives to it an unnatural distortion, or an improper coloring. Of the injustice of this nothing need be said, for all can see and acknowledge it. The difficulty is, to make each one, who indulges this evil practice, conscious that she is really guilty of doing so, and therefore a wrong-doer to others.
A disposition to see the faults and defects of others, instead of what is good in them, is one of our most common failings; and what we see, or think we see, is what we are most apt to speak of This is the reason why we generally hear more evil than good spoken of as appertaining to other people.
The very common habit of making the sayings and doings of our acquaintances the principal subjects of conversation is by no means a good one, and should be avoided as much as possible, for the reason that such conversation is rarely profitable, and very apt to betray us into allusions to their defects, as much more prominent than their excellences. And as it does us no good to think of the faults of our friends, nor them any good for us to speak about them, the least said on such matters the better. It is not possible, however, always to avoid allusions to what has been said and done by our friends, or to the appearance made by them on certain occasions. Two young ladies, for instance, will meet on the day after a fashionable party, and one of them will allude to the dress, appearance, or manners of some one or more, who either exhibited a sad want of taste, or whose conduct attracted attention for its freedom and want of delicacy. Such things always occur, and always cause disparaging remarks. The other young lady, even though she do not ordinarily take pleasure in noticing the faults of her acquaintances, cannot help assenting to what is said, and the temptation to express herself freely on the subject will be very strong. She should guard herself, however, and avoid magnifying what did really occur, and should seek to change the subject as quickly as possible. Something like the following mode of reply, in such cases, should be adopted:—
“Did you ever see such horrid taste as Miss P displayed?” remarks one young friend to another. “She looked like a stage-dancer.”
“She certainly was very much over-dressed.”
“Over-dressed! Goodness! She was dressed to death. Every body remarked it. How silly it is for a girl like her to render herself so conspicuous!”
“You noticed Miss L, did you not?”
“O, yes! Wasn’t she dressed sweetly? I think I never saw her look so beautiful in my life.”
“Miss L is a girl of good taste.”
“And, you may add, good temper and good sense. Did you notice how Sarah J flirted with young S? She is a terrible coquette. I had my eye on her all the evening. Although she doesn’t care the snap of a finger for S, she makes him believe that his company is most agreeable to her.”
“She is very wrong to do so. Truth and honesty should ever distinguish a young lady’s conduct. Such a charge, I am sure, cannot be made against Ellen G.”
“No, you may well say that. She is the very soul of truth and honor. If all were like her, society would present far more beautiful and attractive features than it now does. There was another at the party who resembled her—Flora F.”
“Truly said. I love Flora as tenderly as I do my own sister. How exquisitely do good taste, good feelings, and good principles blend in her character! You never hear her speak of another unless in praise, or palliation of faults magnified by the less charitable. I always feel that I am better after spending an hour with Flora.”
“And so do I. I often wish that I was like her.”
“All of us may become like her, if we endeavor to act from the same good principles that govern in her whole life and conduct.”
“I don’t know. Were I to try ever so hard, I do not think I could become like Flora F. I feel that there is as much difference between her character and mine, as between mine and Sarah J’s.”
“Should not such thoughts and such a consciousness make us very careful how we judge too severely the defects of others? Some persons are naturally deficient in true taste, and others have had their taste perverted by a bad education; some are naturally of an amiable temper, while others have much that is perverse to contend with. In all there is some good; let us magnify that rather than the evil we see.”
“I believe you are right,” was the reply to this. “We are all too apt to see that in our friends which calls for censure rather than praise.”
How much better is it thus to lead away the thoughts of a young friend, disposed to be critical and fault-finding, to the contemplation of excellences in others!
A great deal of unhappiness is created, and a great deal of harm done, by indulgence in the bad habit we are now condemning. Numerous instances might be given in illustration of this. We shall introduce but one, and this with the hope of making the fault appear in its truly odious light.
Ellen B was much given to the use of disparaging remarks in reference to her companions. Like most others who indulged in this reprehensible practice, she did not always confine herself strictly to the truth. Not that she designedly, and with evil intent, uttered falsehoods. She only embellished a little too highly, without seeing that, in doing this, she was magnifying foibles into faults, and perverting language from the true meaning it was intended to convey.
“Your friend, Emily R, seems to be a very fine girl,” said a lady to her one day, after having spent her first half hour with the person referred to.
“Yes,” replied Ellen; “she is certainly a fine girl, but, like all the rest of us, she has her faults.”
“Not very serious ones, I hope,” said the lady.
“Why, that will depend pretty much upon how you view them. She has one fault that I call a pretty serious one.”
“What is that?”
“A disposition to tattle.”
“Indeed! That is bad.”
“Not so bad as some other faults, but still bad enough. Whenever I am with her, I consider it necessary to be guarded in what I say; for, in consequence of her having once repeated some remark of mine, she involved me in a very unpleasant difficulty with a friend, and created a difference that has not been reconciled to this day.”
“With such a person I am sure I should want as little to do as possible,” replied the lady. “I am sorry to hear what you say, for I had formed a very good opinion of Emily, and felt like adding her to the number of my friends. But there is no telling what people are. As for her, the last fault I should have supposed her to be guilty of is the one you mention.”
“I did not mean to convey quite so strong an impression to your mind,” said Ellen B, perceiving that she had really injured Emily. “I would not have you understand that Emily is a common tattler and busybody in other people’s matters, for she is not. I only meant to put you on your guard, in case you became well acquainted with her. Myself a sufferer from having a thoughtless remark repeated by her, it seemed to me only right that I should warn a friend in time.”
“Perfectly right, Ellen, and I thank you for what you have done. As to Emily R, I believe I shall not follow up the acquaintance. I have a large circle of intimate friends, with whom I can be unreserved, without fear of having my confidence betrayed, or my unguarded words repeated to my own and the injury of others.”
In this decision the lady was firm. When she again met Emily, she was coldly polite to her, and that was all. The young girl, who had been pleased with her character, and strongly drawn towards her, felt this change severely. It was an unexpected repulse from one whose principles she had approved, and whose character had been presented to her as one of no common loveliness. That there was some cause for this chancre she knew; but of its nature she had not even a remote idea.
Months passed, during which period Emily was thrown several times into the company of this lady, who always maintained towards her a coldness and reserve entirely at variance with the cordiality of manner exhibited on the occasion of their introduction to each other. This unaccountable difference caused Emily much pain of mind.
It was, perhaps, a year subsequent to the time this lady had received her impression of Emily’s character, and after her marked coldness towards the latter had caused her to omit the usual word or nod of recognition on meeting, that a friend made some casual remarks about Emily.
“I know very little about her,” the lady replied, indifferently, “and that little has not prepossessed me much in her favor.”
“That’s strange,” returned the friend; “for a person with fewer faults, and more sterling qualities of mind and heart, than Emily R, is rarely met.”
“She has one fault that overshadows many good qualities,” said the lady, coldly.
“What is that?” was asked.
“The fault of being a tattler.”
“If she is freer from any one fault more than from another, it is that you name.”
“Perhaps you don't know her,” said the lady.
“Don’t know Emily R! If that was the case, I should almost begin to think I didn’t know myself. We have been like sisters for years.”
“Then you ought to know her.”
“I think so; and I know that she is not a tattler; and I must again express my wonder that you should have formed such an erroneous opinion in regard to her. From whom did you obtain it?”
“From a very good source, I believe. Ellen B warned me to be on my guard, and stated that she was herself a sufferer on account of Emily’s tattling propensities.”
“She did?”
“Yes. My first impression of Emily’s character was good; but when I learned this, I thought it as well to have nothing to do with her, for I think a tattler a very despicable person.”
“I believe I understand it all, now,” said the friend, after musing a while. “Ellen is herself a little given to the very thing she charges upon an innocent person. On one occasion, she repeated something she had heard alleged against a young girl, and considerably embellished her narrative. Emily was present. The impression made was very unfavorable to the individual alluded to. Of all who heard these unfavorable remarks, made to the great disparagement of an absent companion, Emily was the only one who was honest enough to go to her and apprize her of what had been said to her real injury, in order that, if innocent, she might vindicate her character. The allegations were at once pronounced false, and the author of them demanded. Ellen B was named by Emily, who volunteered to go to her in company with the aggrieved person, in order to ascertain from her the source of the injurious charge. Ellen was very angry with Emily for what she had done, and refused at first to give any authority for what she had said. But Emily mildly argued with her on the folly of this, and, in extenuation of what she had done, assured her, that, if she herself had been the subject of the remarks in question, she would have felt it to be equally her duty to apprize her of the injury she was suffering. But Ellen could not see the matter in any better light than as a betrayal of confidence on the part of Emily. The result was, that, on tracing the charge made to the person given as her authority by Ellen, more than half of the averments of Ellen were denied, and a very different version of the whole story given, by which it was clear that she had added nearly all of the offensive matter; not as sheer fabrications, but as inferences from what had been said. It seems she has not forgiven Emily for honestly putting it into the power of an innocent person to vindicate herself from injurious charges, but has as grossly misrepresented and injured her, as she did the person whom Emily warned of the evil things said against her. You can now judge how far Emily R is to be condemned as a tattler on the testimony of Ellen B.”
“Clearly enough,” replied the lady, with some warmth of manner. “I must at once renew my acquaintance with Emily. As for the other, on some suitable occasion I shall refer to the subject, and endeavor to make her see that she has been guilty of a very serious fault. I feel strongly tempted to drop her altogether; but as I committed an error in doing this with Emily R, I will seek rather to correct her faults and strengthen her good qualities than to decline all friendly intercourse.”
This is the way in which false impressions about almost every one are propagated. The slightest fault, or peculiarity, is magnified into something serious, and the censorious whisper goes round, while the subject of it remains in entire ignorance of the detriment she suffers. Let every young lady set her face against this as a serious evil. Let her place a bridle upon her tongue, and upon her thoughts, lest she be betrayed, in an unguarded moment, into saying something against her young friend that may injure her in the estimation of others. The surest way to avoid this fault is to look more at the good in our friends than the evil. We are all perverse enough, all have evil tendencies enough, and are all frequently enough betrayed into acts and words that are wrong, to prompt us to be charitable towards others; and such reflections, if no others, should make us thoughtful and prudent in this matter.