Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme;
Therefore maintain your rank, vulgarity despise,
To blaspheme is neither brave, polite nor wise.
You would not do so upon the bed of death;
Reflect! Your Maker now could stop your breath.”
“AMEN!”
Many years ago when the Duke of Gordon was spending the day in a Scotch village a company of soldiers was drawn up under the window of the room in which the duke and a party of friends were enjoying themselves. The officer in command was inspecting his men’s arms and clothes, and if anything displeased him he berated the soldier with blasphemous oaths. The duke, who abhorred such language, expressed a wish that the inspection might soon be over. “If your Grace desires it,” said one of the company, “I will clear the coast of this man of oaths without noise or bloodshed.” “Do so, and I’ll be obliged to you,” said the duke. The gentleman stepped into the street, took his station behind the officer and pulled off his hat. As the officer swore, the gentleman, with the grave solemnity of a parish clerk, said in a loud voice “Amen.” “What do you mean?” asked the officer, hastily turning around. “I am joining with you in prayer,” answered the gentleman with a grave face. “I thank you, sir,” rejoined the officer, “but I have no further need for a clerk. Soldiers! to the right-about, march!” And he and his soldiers departed, much to the amusement and happiness of the duke, after teaching an important lesson to the officer that it is wrong to call upon God to do this or that, or to belittle others by vile epithets which never fail to bring in due time just retribution.
My boy, the only language to use is the pure and refined. By-words, slang phrases, profanity and blasphemy are only uttered by lips whose heart is bad, for “out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” Let your tongue utter sound sentences, choice words and pleasant expressions, then will they be musical to the ears of the good, sweet to the soul of the pious, educational to those who associate with you, and beneficial to all. From this day put into practice the last words of the eloquent John B. Gough. He was lecturing in the Presbyterian Church, Frankford, Pa., on the night of February 19, 1886. In the course of that lecture he said: “I have seven years in the record of my own life when I was held in the iron grasp of intemperance. I would give the world to blot it out, but alas! I cannot.” Then, stepping forward, with an impressive gesture, he added, “Young man, keep your record—” but he was unable to finish the sentence, for he sank insensible into a chair from which he was never able to rise. Evidently he meant to say, “Young man, keep your record clean.”
Do not forget that improper words have a reflex influence. A fable is told how a bee took an offering of honey to Jupiter, which so pleased him that he promised to grant the bee whatever it should ask. The bee said, “O glorious Jove, give thy servant a sting, that when anyone approaches my hive to take the honey, I may kill him on the spot.” Jupiter answered, “Your prayer shall not be granted in the way you wish, but the sting you ask for, you shall have; and when anyone comes to take away your honey, and you sting him, the wound shall be fatal, not to him, but to you, for your life shall go with the sting.” So is it to this day. He that curseth others, curseth himself. Therefore my boy, control your tongue, and keep the door of your lips, remembering:
“’Tis reason’s part