PAPER: The Moral Value of Silence

The Moral Value of Silence

Author(s): Felix Adler

Source: International Journal of Ethics , Apr., 1898, Vol. 8, No. 3 (Apr., 1898), pp. 345-

357

Published by: The University of Chicago Press

Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/2375788


Here, then, we have one reason why silence is often better than speech, because certain things-and these the greatest, the highest, and the most inward-are actually inexpressible, incommunicable, ineffable in their very nature, and because the attempt to clothe them, nevertheless, in words belittles them. (pg 346)

I mention, as a first instance of the unspeakable, gratitude. Of course, we can express our thanks for the lesser benefactions which we receive at the hands of our fel- lows; to one who has helped us by a timely loan, for instance, when we happened temporarily to be in need of financial as- sistance; to one who testifies, honestly and truthfully, in our favor, without, however, incurring any great sacrifice himself by so doing; to one who lends us his influence in procuring employment, to which, by our talents and attainments, we are entitled. To these and such as these we can express our thanks, and we can, occasion offering, return their favors by similar services on our part. But the moment the benefac- tions, of which we are the recipients, involve self-sacrifice on the part of our benefactors-especially great self-sacrifice-we are speechless, utterly unable to find words in which to express our thankfulness (pg 346)

We are reduced to the necessity of falling back on the language of gesture, and of indicating by signs and tokens, by the pressure of the hand, by the eloquence of the eye, what the tongue is in- competent to frame into words. Can you thank the physician who, by constant attendance, by unremitting watchfulness and solicitude, by the exercise of his highest skill, by self-forget- ting patience and care, has saved the imperilled life of your child? You can indicate your gratitude by signs. For the acts in which you try to express it are only valuable as signs of what you feel. But you can never express it in any set form of language. (pg 348)

On the other hand, we stand in awe of speechless sorrow, for we know that it has taken hold of the roots of the soul, and that a long time must pass before its poignant pangs can be mitigated. Silence, then, is forced upon us by the defects of language as an instrument of expression. It is forced upon us because there are certain inward experiences that simply cannot be put into words. (pg 349)

The violet of charity blooms in hidden nooks, and its charm is inseparable from its secretiveness. "Charity," it is said, "vaunteth not itself." And why not? Because its value is altogether dependent on the motive by which it is in- spired,-the motive of pure, unselfish love for another being like ourselves. (pg 349)

"Charity vaunteth not itself;" for the moment it vaunteth itself it ceases to be charity (pg 349)

Charity executes its mission of mercy under the aegis of silence, in such a manner that its own right hand shall not know what its left hand doeth. Secrecy is the bloom of charity. If you brush that away from it, you have despoiled it of its richest beauty. The silence that marks true charity is required to guard the purity of the motive (pg 349)

I have used the word " shamefacedly ;" and this leads me to suggest another reason why charity deserves to be called the Daughter of Silence (pg 349)