secretly and behind his back, without allowing him the opportunity of self-defence. Detraction differs also from calumny or slander; for calumny is a false accusation, whereby a person is charged with a crime he is really innocent of, as was the case of the virtuous Joseph, mentioned in the Book of Genesis, and of the chaste Susanna, spoken of in the Book of Daniel; but detraction is committed by divulging, without necessity the private and hidden crimes a person has been really guilty of, or by exposing some considerable defect that tends to his prejudice. This vice betrays a great corruption of heart, and commonly arises from a certain degree of pride and envy, which makes men blind to their own faults, and clear-sighted to discover faults in others; for a man of a depraved heart is apt to look at others through the medium of his own passions, and to judge them to be evil because he is evil himself. Like unto those vile insects and noxious flies, which delight to dwell always on filth and corruption, the detractor makes the crimes and infirmities of his neighbours his favourite topic and the ordinary subject of his conversation; he pretends, like the Pharisee in the Gospel, to see a mote in his brother's eye, at the same time that he does not perceive the beam in his own eye.

Charity judges favourably of all men, has compassion for their failings, and excuses their intentions when it cannot excuse their actions. It seeks rather the salvation than the defamation of a neighbour, and studies to conceal and diminish, rather than to propagate and augment scandal; it usually declares on the favourable side of mercy, and evinces a dignity and greatness of soul in taking the unfortunate under protection. Detraction, on the contrary, evinces a total want of every liberal, noble and generous sentiment; it sports with a neighbour's misfortune, and exults at his downfall; it blackens him with odious aspersions, and propagates scandalous hearsays and reports in order to expose him to contempt, disgrace, and ridicule. The bee extracts honey out of the most bitter flowers; but the detractor takes a bad meaning out of things that are highly commendable and really praise-worthy in themselves. He puts a malicious construction on the very best actions, depreciates the most amiable qualities, and turns the virtues of his neighbour into vices. He feels a secret pleasure in speaking freely of the faults and imperfections of others. wherever he goes, particularly when he has, or thinks he has truth on his side, and by this means he becomes the unhappy cause of numberless quarrels, divisions and animosities. In short, he sets neighbours at variance with each other, he sows discord in families, and disunites the most intimate friends, and arms brother against brother and husband against wife. May I not, then, justly apply what St. James says, in chap. iii. of his Catholic Epistle, v. 6. and 8. to the tongue of a detractor? It is a devouring fire, a world of iniquity, an unquiet evil, full of deadly poison. It spares nothing, whether sacred or profane,

but discharges its fury on the good grain and on the chaff, on the prince and on the subject, on the ecclesiastic and on the layman, leaving ruin and desolation wherever it passes. It penetrates into the earth, to root up what has been buried in oblivion, and it seeks, in the ashes of the dead, the faults which have been already cancelled in the sight of God by tears of repentance, and which time has effaced out of the memory of men. There is no mischief that can be thought of, says St. John Chrysostom, but the tongue of a detractor is productive of; for which reason the Holy Scripture cautions us in the strongest terms to refrain our tongues from detraction, Wisdom, c. i. v. 11. and expressly declares, that detractors are odious in the sight of God, and that the whisperer, the tatler, and the double-tongued are accursed, because they trouble many that are in peace, Eccles. xxi. Their words are smoother than oil, says the Royal Prophet, Ps. liv. and in the end they are darts, which, like the sting in the serpent's tail, carry poison with them, and wound the deeper the more they are disguised; and again, Ps. v. their mouth is an open sepulchre, which exhales a contagious infection, and their tongues resemble a sharp-whetted sword, that destroys the reputation and civil life of many, whose conduct in other respects is regular, virtuous, and edifying. St. James concludes, therefore, that if any one imagines himself to be religious, not bridling his tongue, this man's religion is vain, c. i. v. 26.

The Prophet Jeremy gives us a pathetic description of the damages done by a detracting tongue, under the figure of a fertile olive tree, beautiful to the sight, both for the number of its branches and the quantity and quality of its fruit; but being set on fire by a few sparks carried to it by a blast of wind, all its branches were in a short time consumed, its beauty soon perished, and all its fruit was destroyed. This olive tree is a figure or representation of an upright just man, of a prudent virtuous woman, of an exemplary pious ecclesiastic, of an honest conscientious tradesman. How great soever their virtue may be, how regular soever their conduct, however strictly honest their dealings, a blast of wind carries fire to the olive tree, and consumes in a moment all its leaves, branches and fruit; that is to say, a few words of a detracting tongue blast their reputation and brand them with infamy. Who would believe it, says St. Bernard, that so small a thing as a word of detraction could cause such a dreadful havoc ? Yes, my brethren, gunpowder that has taken fire may be as well confined as detraction, or a restraint may be as well put on the sea when the banks are broken down; for when detraction has once passed the lips, it flies like a flash of lightning, but still it fails not to make deep and mortal wounds. The detracted person is immediately reduced to a state of civil death. He becomes like unto a dead member in the community, says St. Francis of Sales. He sinks into an object of infamy and public contempt,

a sport for some, a pity for others. He is torn within and without; within a prey to his own remorses, without a butt to the satires and censures of men. The sun only rises to enlighten his shame, to let him see the remains of his shattered character, and to bear the dishonour and disgrace of it; so that it were better for him to have been blackened by calumny than to have been defamed by detraction, for calumny is often for the falsely accused a subject of triumph, and a wound more easily healed; the shame frequently rebounds on the calumniator who first gave birth to the malicious report. Time clears up the matter; the falsehood is detected and refuted; the truth is made manifest, and injured innocence, like gold that is tried by the fire, appears with more lustre than before. Nay, even though the calumny could not be refuted, it might be despised. The assured testimony of a good conscience can revenge itself of the vain and ill-grounded discourses that are daily spread in the world, and it is always an advantage and a comfort to a calumniated Christian, to be able to say within himself, that he is innocent in the sight of God of what is laid to his charge; but in detraction there is no such resource; there is no means to recall it, no effectual remedy to repair the damage. A reputation once ruined by detraction, can scarce ever be recovered; it is a wound almost incurable. Do you wonder, then, that St. Bernard calls detraction a very grievous crime; grande crimen detractio, that stands in direct opposition, not only to the great precept of fraternal charity, but also to natural justice and equity; for, let a man's private conduct be what it may, he has a just title to a fair and reputable character as long as he is not convicted of any public offence; till he makes the public witnesses to his crime he is accountable to God alone, and amenable only to the divine tribunal. Whoever, then, discovers his secret crimes, without a just cause or pressing necessity, he is guilty of an injustice far greater, far more cruel, than if by fraud and violence he robbed him of his money or temporal substance; for what is worldly substance when put in competition with a fair character? Is not a fair character the most valuable of all temporal blessings? Is not a good name preferable to much riches? as the Scripture says in ch. xxii. of the Book of Proverbs. It may lead the poorest and the most destitute of men to the acquisition of wealth, but a character once lost is not to be re-purchased with all the treasures of the earth. I leave yourselves, then, to judge what an injury, what a flaming act of injustice it is, to deprive a person by detraction of that which is in itself so valuable. Can any theft or robbery be comparable to this? says St. Ambrose. Moreover, if the person detracted has already cancelled his secret crimes in the sight of God, by abundant tears of contrition, is it not unjust, uncharitable and cruel to the last degree, to revive and publish them in the eyes of the world? Yes, my brethren, carry this truth with you: He that was yesterday a sinner, may be a

saint this day; and the moment that publishes his crimes, is often the moment of mercy which completes his conversion. Remember what is recorded of the penitent Magdalen. The proud Pharisee reproached her with her crimes, and yet in that very instant her love and her tears effaced them at the feet of her Divine Redeemer. May I not, then, justly conclude that detraction is a manifest breach of charity, an open violation of justice, and an odious vice in its own nature, highly offensive to God and very injurious to man? It is likewise highly detrimental to the detractor himself, and attended with consequences extremely dangerous and almost irreparable. This is what I promised to shew you in the second point.

To convince you how hurtful and dangerous the sin of detraction is to the detractor himself, it might be sufficient to observe, that it is numbered by St. Paul amongst those capital crimes which render men hateful to God, and exclude them from ever inheriting the kingdom of Heaven, unless they be expiated by a true and sincere repentance, Rom. c. i. v. 30. 1 Cor. c. xv. It is, therefore, of its own nature a grievous mortal sin, that causes the spiritual death of the soul of the detractor, and entails eternal death and damnation on it hereafter. What is more, it is often the unhappy occasion of the spiritual death of the person detracted, on account of the hatred and passion of revenge it excites in his heart against the detractor; nay, the detractor is also accessary to the spiritual death of the criminal accomplices and partakers of his guilt, who concur and join with him in encouraging and propagating the detrac tion. This made St. Bernard on Psalm lvi. call the detractors tongues a two-edged, nay, a three-edged sword, with which he commits three murders at one stroke. First, he murders his own soul when he wounds his neighbour's reputation. Secondly, he murders the character of the person he detracts, as he destroys that civil life by which he lived fair in the esteem of others; a life more dear to men of honour and probity, than the life of the body. Thirdly, he murders the souls of those who give ear with pleasure to the detraction, and encourage, spread, and keep it alive; for whoever encourages and gives ear to a detractor, is equally criminal with him. Nay, St. Bernard says he knows not which of the two merits damnation the most, the detractor or the listener, since both have the devil in them, the one in his mouth, the O, how many crimes this one crime! and how extremely difficult must it be to make reparation for all the mischief and damages caused by it? Yet, without this reparation, there is no pardon to be obtained; for detractors are no less strictly obliged to repair the damages done by their means, than thieves and robbers are bound to restore the property of their neighbour which they have unjustly acquired. The only difference is, that detractors labour under far greater difficulties in the discharge of this duty, than they do who only strip others of

are there then united other in his ears.

the external goods of fortune, and that for two reasons. First, Because the damage done by detraction is so extensive that it can scarce be repaired. Secondly, Because the weakness of the detractor is such, that he can scarce gain on himself to make a due reparation. Such are the dangerous consequences of detraction. The infamy of the detracted neighbour increases in proportion to the number of persons to whom his or her private failings have been disclosed. The scandal augments continually; each one repeating the same story, will be apt to add something of his own invention, and to set it off in a more disadvantageous light. Though discovered at first to one only person, it spreads farther every day, like unto a little brook, which the farther it runs the larger it continually grows, until at length it becomes a great river, or like that spark of fire mentioned by St. James, which in the beginning appears very inconsiderable, but in a short time consumes the greatest buildings, and spreads ruin and Lesolation on every side. How difficult, then, must it be for the detractor to repair the injury he has done, and to heal all the wounds his envenomed tongue has inflicted? The sins of a whole multitude are his sins, and he may be said to detract with as many mouths and as many tongues, as through his means co-operate to destroy the reputation of his neighbour. How will he be able to expiate such evils? How will he disabuse all those to whose ears his malicious report has reached, and is to reach after his death; for it is to be observed, that the scandal does not always die with the detractor, but often survives him, so that when his detracting tongue will lie buried in the grave, the reputation he blasted will be still destroyed on earth.

But though the detractor should be able to repair the reputation he has blasted, by proclaiming his own rashness, and publishing to the world the malice and injustice of his asper sions, is it easy to gain so far on himself as to resolve on such a publication? And yet to clear his injured neighbour's character, and make a full reparation of the wrong he has done him, he must swallow down all this confusion, and assume the odious titles of a liar, impostor and calumniator, in case he has, in reality, belied his neighbour. But where are the true penitents to be found, who are willing to submit to such an humiliation? How few will be persuaded to do what lies in their power on this occasion? It requires no small stock of humility to retract what one has said, and though it should be done, few will believe the retraction. This shews how dangerous a sin it is, and how difficult the reparation of the damage thereby occasioned is rendered by human pride. What is still a convincing proof that it is extremely dif ficult, mortifying and painful to flesh and blood to retract, after having detracted, and to sacrifice one's own good name in order to re-establish that of another, is this, that nothing in the world is more frequent than detraction,