Low must be the character which such impertinence will exalt; high must be the character which such impertinence will not degrade. Inexcusable, therefore, is the vice which has neither reason nor passion to support it. The drunkard has his cups; the satirist his revenge; the ambitious man his preferments; the miser his gold: but the common swearer has nothing; he is a fool at large, sells his soul for nought, and drudges in the service of the devil, gratis.
Swearing is void of all plea; it is not the native offspring of the soul, nor interwoven with the texture of the body, nor, anyhow, allied to our frame. For, as Tillotson expresses it, “though some men pour out oaths as if they were natural, yet no man was ever born of a swearing constitution.” But it is a custom, a low and paltry custom, picked up by low and paltry spirits who have no sense of honor, no regard to decency, but are forced to substitute some rhapsody of nonsense to supply the vacancy of good sense. Hence the silliness of the practice can only be equalled by the silliness of those who adopt it.—Lamont.
Ruins of Ancient Rome.
A Roman Story.
During the time of the Roman commonwealth, there lived a noble warrior, whose name was Caius Marcius. He was scarcely less remarkable for the strength and symmetry of his body, than for the heroic magnanimity of his mind. From his earliest youth, he had been trained to feats of war; and his mother, who was a very noble matron, was anxious that he should be distinguished not only for his feats of arms, but for those other heroic qualities, which make a man truly great—such as justice, mercy, truth, honor, integrity, and disinterestedness. When Caius Marcius grew up, he soon proved to his mother that her good lessons had not been thrown away upon him; for, on occasion of an assault upon the town of Corioli, he distinguished himself with such extraordinary bravery, as to astonish all those who witnessed his exploits. Having headed a party which broke through the gates of the city, he entered it; but the gates being suddenly shut, Caius Marcius was left alone within the walls, surrounded by a host of enemies. Resolving to sell his life dearly, he made such an attack upon those within the walls, that they fled, and he was enabled to re-open the gates and let in his companions, who immediately took possession of the city.
After this brave action, honors and rewards would have been heaped upon Caius Marcius, but he refused them all, with the exception of a horse, the prisoners he had taken with his own hands, and the life of a person in the city, of whom he had formerly been the guest. In addition to this, he wished to take the surname of Coriolanus, as a remembrance of his victory, which was also granted him.
Coriolanus from this time signalized himself in a variety of battles, and always displayed the same disinterestedness and magnanimity. As he was above every mean act himself, he could not bear to see meanness in others; and observing the wickedness of the rich, and the hollow-hearted friendship of the common people, he despised both, and thus obtained a character for pride, and made himself a great many enemies.
But, still, Coriolanus was not without friends. An old senator, by name Menenius Agrippa, a very merry old fellow, was warmly attached to him, and wished, if possible, to raise him to the office of consul, which was the highest dignity the Romans could confer. But at this time, there was a great scarcity of bread and food in Rome, and the citizens were in a state of insurrection. Mobs paraded the streets, demanding food, and threatening death to the rich, whom they supposed had passed edicts to make provisions dear, that they might drain the pockets of the people. Menenius met a tumultuous body of the citizens going to pull down the house of Caius Marcius, and to kill him; for they thought that if they did so, they should get corn at their own price. Besides this, they wanted to govern, instead of being governed, and seemed determined to destroy all government, by a universal insurrection. Menenius, to stay them from their purpose, and to gain a little time, offered, if they would hear him, to tell a story which should put the subject of which they complained in its true light.
After a great deal of tumult, the citizens agreed to hear what the old man had to say, who proceeded as follows: “My friends,” said he, “there was a time when all the members rebelled against the stomach, and accused it of living an idle and luxurious life, in the midst of the body, without ever laboring for itself, or taking any trouble concerning the very things by which it was fed and comforted. To this the stomach replied, ‘It is true, I am the storehouse and shop of the whole body, but still, I have labor to perform that you know nothing of; for I have to convert the rude matters that the hands and mouth supply me with, into blood, and to send it in rivers both to the heart and brain, and every other part of the system, without which they could not live, nor could eye and ear, and heart and hand, see, or hear, or feel!’ Therefore, so it is with you, my friends; you feed the governing body of the state, and this sustains you for all the purposes for which you live.”