Training the Tongue by Mary H. Williams

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Apr 10, 1913

Training the Tongue

By Mary H. Williams

MRS. MARY H. WILLIAMS

“Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh,” and, conversely, of its poverty remaineth silent. James speaks of the tongue as an unruly member; and while it requires much training with bit and bridle, may we not forget there is sometimes need of ‘whip and spur’? What of the laggard tongue, so slow with its word of appreciation or merited praise that when it arrives it falls cold and lifeless; the mulish, obstinate tongue that balks till the opportune time for presenting a truth has slipped by; or the cowardly tongue that remains discreetly silent when it should declare boldly for justice and truth?

We should apply both lash and spur when the tongue is backward in acknowledging a mistake or confessing a wrong. While it is most praiseworthy to refrain from mentioning another’s faults, who is able to go to the offender privately and seek “in the spirit of meekness” to restore such a one? The wise man commends him who bridles his spirit. To maintain dignified silence under a taunt may even provoke the tormentor to greater efforts, while the tongue trained to return the “soft answer” not only turns away wrath, but wins a friend. The first is peaceable, the second a peace-maker.

If we picture the unbridled tongue as scattering firebrands of speech, we see the need of training the tongue to act quickly to stay the conflagration. If we possess a well-stored mind, it is not so difficult to stay the gossiping tongue, and turn the conversation into safer channels. Happy is he whose kind heart and ready tongue come quickly to the relief of embarrassment. Open-hearted friendliness can seldom go amiss; for it completely disarms diplomacy and deceit. The honest heart with no ulterior motives to conceal, vanquishes craftiness and cunning with its sincerity and truth.

We may dread the inquisitive tongue, yet what seems to us mere prying may often spring from a truly sympathetic heart. A little training in tactfulness and the possessor has that rare gift which draws the wounded heart to him in the sure confidence of ready sympathy and help. On the other hand, a little halting, a little delay while we select the proper vehicles of speech, and we have missed the one chance to say a word of kindness, sympathy, or love; and these are the words, which, like the gentle rain and dew, flow back to the fountain of the heart, supplying the abundance,—an abundance that overflows continually with brotherly kindness. Then while we cultivate the graces of the heart and mind, let us not fail to train the tongue; for “a word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.”

Charles City, Iowa.