Scandal

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVII, 26 November 1927, Page 11

Scandal

“Scandal is what one half of the world takes pleasure in inventing, and the other half in believing.” —Chatfield.

jpERHAPS one of the greatest common failings in the world to-day is the habit of — unconsciously perhaps—picking faults in others. It seems so much easier to find failings instead of virtues. Perhaps they may take a little searching, but people are so apt to hastily take a person at his or her surface value, or, worse still, by hearsay. They may know nothing but good about someone, yet they will, if told, believe the very worst about her, and then pass the news on to someone else. On what a slender thread does a good reputation hang! We simply don’t realise the far-reaching results of scandal repeated “as a strict secret between you and me, dear.” Tillotson wrote, "A good word is an easy obligation; but not to speak ill requires only our silence, which costs us nothing.” I was once told a story about a lady living in an English village, quite a good lady, and a staunch Church worker, but she was a terrible scandal - monger. The minister heard of this and took her severely to task, until she professed repentance. To punish her he told her to take a fowl, and walk from one end of the village to the other, plucking the feathers as she went. She objected strongly, but at last was prevailed upon to do so. When the humiliating task was done, the minister said, “Now go back and pick up every feather." She said she might be able to pick up a few, but it was impossible to find them all as the winds had carried them everywhere.

“Yes, he said, “and in such a way is scandal spread. You may

be able afterwards to stop a few mouths, but you never know to whom it has been repeated.” J. A. Mason humourously, but very truly, “Never judge a person hastily. Even the dog in the manger may have been a nervous animal that needed rest and quiet.” There is goodness and sweetness in the worst of us. It is a much better plan to seek out the bright patches than to enlarge on the smudges. Who knows? We may have a few smudges ourselves sometime, and we won’t want them made blacker at all the after-noon-tea parties and Women's Guilds. We’re all born, but w e are not dead yet. I don't know why, but it is generally accepted as a fact that men “stick up” for one another far more than women do. Perhaps they are more tolerant, but it is true that where a woman has, or is said to have, overstepped the mark, she will set all the feminine tongues buzzing through the town, but the same case in a man will be dismissed by his own sex with perhaps a few casual remarks and a half-contemptuous smile. Tut, tut! This will never do, running down my own sex, but the men will not be reading the Women’s Page, and therefore- will not have a chance to say, “I told you so.” But if we all practised a little more Christian forbearance in the matter of repeating perhaps quite untrue scandal, a great deal of misunderstanding and heart-burn would be abo .shed-