Considering then what mischief may be done with the tongue, it is not to be wondered at that we are cautioned against _excessive speech_. "In the multitude of words there wanteth not transgression, but he that refraineth his lips doeth wisely."[330] "He that guardeth his mouth keepeth his life; who opens wide his lips gets destruction, and a fool spreadeth out folly."[331] "In all labour is profit, the talk of the lips tends only to poverty."[332] "Wisdom rests in the heart of the understanding, but even in the inward part of fools all is blabbed."[333] "In the fool are no lips of knowledge" because he is always talking.[334] "The tongue of the wise uttereth knowledge aright, but the mouth of fools poureth out folly."[335] "A fool hath no delight in understanding, but only that his heart may reveal itself."[336] One who is always pouring out talk is sure to be pouring out folly. The wise man, feeling that all his words must be tested and weighed, is not able to talk very much. When your money is all in copper, you may afford to throw it about, but when it is all in gold you have to be cautious. A Christian feels that for every idle word he utters he will have to give account, and as none of his words are to be idle they must be comparatively few; the word that kindles wrath, the lie, the whisper, the slander, can therefore find no place on his lips.
This brings us to the _Good and beautiful uses of the tongue_, those uses which justify us in calling the tongue of the wise Health.[337] First of all the tongue has the gracious power of soothing and restraining anger. It is the readiest instrument of peace-making. Gentleness of speech allays great offences,[338] and by preventing quarrels, disarming wrath, and healing the wounds of the spirit, it maintains its claim to be a tree of life.[339] If in the tumult of passion, when fiery charges are made and grievous provocations are uttered, the tongue can be held in firm restraint, and made to give a soft answer, the storm will subside, the angry assailant will retire abashed,[340] and the flaming arrows will be quenched in the buckler of meekness which opposes them. Nor is the tongue only defensive in such cases. The pleasant words, spoken out of a kindly and gentle nature, have a purifying effect;[341] they cleanse away the defilements out of which the evil passions sprang; they purge the diseased humours which produce the irritations of life; they supply a sweet food to the poor hearts of men, who are often contentious because they are hungry for sympathy and love. Pleasant words are as a honeycomb, sweet to the soul, health to the bones.[342] They must be true words, or they will not in the end be pleasant, for, as we have seen, the sweet bread of falsehood turns to gravel in the mouth. But what a different world this would become if we all spoke as many pleasant words as we honestly could, and were not so painfully afraid of showing what tenderness and pity and healing actually exist in our hearts! For another beautiful use of the tongue is to comfort the mourners, of whom there are always so many in the world. "Heaviness in the heart of a man maketh it stoop." There are these stooping, bowed-down hearts everywhere around us. We wish that we could remove the cause of sorrow, that we could effectually change the conditions which seem unfavourable to joy; but being unable to do this, we often stand aloof and remain silent, because we shrink from giving words without deeds, pity without relief. We forget that when the heart is heavy it is just "a good word that maketh it glad."[343] Yes, a word of genuine sympathy, a word from the heart,--and in trouble no other word can be called good,--will often do more to revive the drooping spirit than the grosser gifts of material wealth. A coin kindly given, a present dictated by a heart-felt love, may come as a spiritual blessing; on the other hand, money given without love is worthless, and seldom earns so much as gratitude, while a word in season, how good it is![344] It is better than silver and gold; the discouraged and despondent heart seems to be touched with the delicate finger of hope, and to rise from the ashes and the dust with a new purpose and a new life. It must, of course, be in season. "As vinegar upon nitre so is he that sings songs to a sad heart."[345] But the seasonable word, spoken just at the right moment and just in the right tone, brief and simple, but comprehending and penetrating, will often make the sad heart sing a song for itself.