Properly speaking, scandal is any word or deed, evil or even with an appearance of evil, of a nature to furnish an occasion of spiritual downfall, to lead another info sin.  It does not even matter whether the results be intended or merely suffered to occur; it does not even matter if no results follow at all.  It is sufficient that the stumbling-block of scandal be placed in the way of another to his spiritual peril, and designed by nature to make him fall; on him who placed it, is the guilt of scandal.

The act of scandal consists in making sin easier to commit—­as though it were not already easy enough to sin—­for another.  Natural grace, of which we are not totally bereft, raises certain barriers to protect and defend the weak and feeble.  Conspicuous among these are ignorance and shame; evil sometimes offers difficulties, the ones physical, the others spiritual, such as innate delicacy, sense of dignity, timidity, instinctive repugnance for filth, human respect, dread of consequences, etc.  These stand on guard before the soul to repel the first advances of the tempter which are the most dangerous; the Devil seldom unmasks his heavy batteries until the advance-posts of the soul are taken.  It is the business of scandal to break down these barriers, and for scandal this work is as easy as it is nefarious.  For curiosity is a hungering appetite, virtue is often protected with a very thin veil, and vice can be made to lose its hideousness and assume charms, to untried virtue, irresistible.  There is nothing doing for His Satanic Majesty while scandal is in the field; he looks on and smiles.

There may be some truth in the Darwinian theory after all, if we judge from the imitative propensities of the species, probably an inherited trait of our common ancestor, the monkey.  At any rate, we are often more easily led by example than by conviction; example leads us against our convictions.  Asked why we did this or that, knowing we should not have done it, we answer with simian honesty, “because such a one did it, or invited us to do it.”  We get over a good many old-fashioned notions concerning modesty and purity, after listening to the experiences of others; we forget to be ashamed in the presence of the brazen, the unabashed and the impudent.  We feel partially justified in doing what we see done by One to whom we are accustomed to look up.  “If he acts thus,” we say, “how can it be so very wrong in me; and if everybody—­and everybody sometimes means a very few—­if everybody does so, it cannot be so bad as I first imagined.”  Thus may be seen the workings of scandal in the mind and soul of its victim.  Remembering our natural proneness to carnal indulgence, it is not surprising that the victims of scandal are so many.  But this cannot be taken as an apology for the scandal-giver; rather the contrary, since the malice of his sin has possibilities so unbounded.