who, in the same age, annexed to the realms of human knowledge large continents of thought, wherein "the whole mind may orb about ;" and, in contemplation of whose great works, we may truly say that, in that fortunate age, other New Worlds were explored besides America. It is a peculiar glory of Elizabeth that those intellectual discoverers were her cotemporaries, and that she encouraged and rewarded them. Many other sovereigns, intensely occupied with the active affairs of empire, have despised studious men, forgetting that all their high and mighty pageantry of action must speedily pass into oblivion, unless the monuments thereof are builded in books. Look back over the dilapidations of Time. See what an insignificant record of great actions the monumental granite of kings has been, compared with the monumental language of poets and historians. Granite cannot tell its own age, and will not burden its dull faculties with human remembrances. The steps of the pyramids lead up to nowhere, and sphynxes have themselves

become riddles. But Cheops and Cephrenes are still heard of in books. This great unstable globe is perpetually turning on its trunnions, and hurrying everything around towards the shady side of earthly oblivion; but books, like ranges of mountains, are the last objects that cease to reflect the light of one age to the eyes of another. Bacon says, of libraries, that they are "the shrines where all the relics of the ancient saints, full of true virtue, and that without delusion or imposture, are preserved and reposed.' And sometimes, on opening a volume of history, we imagine ourselves in a sort of Westminster Abbey, where we behold kings, princes, nobles, warriors, each with the insignia of his offices and the trophies of his achievements gathered about him, each in his own robes or armor, lying on his own tomb, labelled with such an epitaph as it pleased his successors to give him, and all of them, in their helpless repose, silently appealing to the tender mercies of posterity.

ME. EDITOR,

I AM a quiet man; I may say, a very

quiet man. Rarely, indeed, is my equanimity of temper disturbed; and, though the experiment has never been made, I feel an inward assurance that I could go through—even a steamboat explosion-coolly, calmly, and collectedly, instead of scatteraceously, as do some of a less quiet turn, and who are always foun, at the time of such accidents, in the vicinity of the boiler, or other equally dangerous locality. I am satisfied that the papers, of the day after the disaster, would have my name in the list of those gentlemen who "behaved with great gallantry on the occasion;" or among those whose "admirable presence of mind and cool intrepidity enabled them to be of invaluable service to the ladies on the boat, inany of whom were on deck at the moment of the shocking catastrophe." So, at least, I am sure it would be, did not my peculiar infirmity of which you will presently know more-intervene to foil me.

I am known sir, in my neighborhood, as "THE QUIET MAN," and when I inform you that I live in the same vicinity with ihree old maids, a chatty young widow, and a number of gossiping misses, you may possibly appreciate the intensity of that plicuity which has acquired, and still maintains for me, a reputation so enviable under these highly adverse circumstances. I have been known, when an awkward lout of a boy had well-righ eradicated the corn upon my goury toe, by crushing it with his bootLel, to turn to his mamma, who sat ra, and, smiling sweetly, assure her in the blan test manner that, "it was of n consequence at all-made not the

slightest difference." I have been bled by a mosquito for half an hour, without wincing; and, when he had become so dropsical with the red current of my life, that he could no longer fly, I have been known to capture and slay him without one word of reproach, or the slightest malevolence of countenance. When the seediness of my coat and the shocking badness of my hat have procured for me the cut direct from old friends and fashionable acquaintances, I have calmly buttoned the one, aud jauntily adjusting the other, walked forwards as imperturbably as if nothing whatever had occurred-just as the moon continued shining and held the even tenor of her way, despite the angry barkings of a diminutive cur which had imbibed the notion she had no business to shine. Aye, and I have been known-but sir, I will enumerate no further, lest the countless instances I could quote of my invincible quietude, should keep me too long away from the main subject of this letter.

I repeat it, then, I am a very quiet man-a mild, tranquil, unruffled, bland, placid man; and by some have even been thought phlegmatic.

But I am also, in some respects, a nervous man. I belong to that unfortunate class of persons whose acoustic ducts were too finely fashioned by nature in the beginning; over the drums of whose ears the parchment is either too thin, or too tightly drawn; and I am consequently the recipient of pains through that channel, which seen wellnigh incredible to those of less sensitive tympana-pains as real and racking, as tangible and torturous, as are kicks, cuffs, and stripes, to others of my fellow

creatures. So subtle, refined, and exquisitely delicate is my sense of hearing, I have often wished, that like the people of the moon, I had been created earless.

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The faintest echo from the tongue of a termagant, or a scold, causes me incontinently to betake myself to my heels; nor is it of any avail that I summon my resolution to aid me. Socrates philosophized, when Xantippe ranted and raved: but I consider flight a better thing than philosophy, when woman gives her tongue its will. Some of your street cries, in linked vociferation long drawn out, affect me sensibly. A feline concert from an adjacent roof, ends my repose for the night; while the cries of a cross child or a spoiled baby, induce in me certain snappish and pugnacious tendencies which might suggest to a timid mother the propriety of binding me, in a suitable sum, to keep the peace-first broken, be it observed, by their own darlings. "Can you pay this little bill, to-day, sir?" especially if I cannot-and I never can, till morrow," or "the latter part of next week"-renders me a promising candidate for some friendly asylum. The tickings of a death-watch in the wall cause me to turn restlessly in bed; and the shrill pipings of a mosquito, or the buzz of a bee near my ear, are more dreaded than the concealed weapons they carry, in defiance of the statute made and provided. I am not a quiet man during the performances of an earthquake; am nervous on gunpowder days, such as national anniversaries; do not blame a dog for leaving the neighborhood of exploding fire-crackers; and am provokingly restless under the influences of opera music in churches. My teeth are set on edge by the scraping of a reed; and the mere thought, even in midsummer, of craunching a canethus converting the teeth into an amateur sugar mill-begets in me a chilliness which would be refreshing (in the dogdays) were it not also freezing; even a creaking hinge causes me to fly, with creeping cuticle, after the oil-can; and, though I have not tried it, I cannot doubt that the report of my adversary's pistol, in an affair of honor so miscalled, would cause me great trepidation, and force me to minute self-examinationsearching and thorough as if occasioned by the monitions of that still, small voice, ever heard when least desired, but which I dare not disregard.

These sounds, however, are trifles compared with another assault upon my ear, frequently made, and so very frequenty of late, I have been driven to this letter with a hope of relief. I allude, sir,laugh if you will-to AN OATH-—A CURSE. This it is, which shocks and shatters the whole web-work of my nerves--goes tingling and ripping through my cellular tissue-causes ine involuntarily to wink as it flies past me; and grates and jangles upon my ear as if it would shiver the very skull itself. One of your big, black oaths, as it hums and hurtles and whizzes through the air, seems literally to cleave me through. I say seems, but the word is quite strong enough, for I have never learned the difference between verisimile and esse. We are happy or miserable as, to ourselves, we seem thus or so-not as we are. At times, I have believed myself riddled under a shower of oaths; and, as I know from actual experience how a man feels when he is shot, I have no hesitation in saying, that aside from the fatality sometimes resulting from lead, there is little choice between a ball, shot from some black-mouthed fire-arm, and an oath fired from the foul muzzle of a hard-swearer. Of course, I speak only for myself, and for others having a like sensitiveness of ear.

use it

I am fully aware of the eccentricity of these notions. My prejudices may be, doubtless they are, very singular and very antiquated: but, sir, I cannot help cherishing them. I am cognizant of the fact, that the world holds an oath in high esteem; but upon this point the world and I can never agree, though I do not undertake to say which party is in the right. I know that boys consider an oath a matter of much moment, and a proof of manliness-(rather mannishness); that dandies and "bloods as an elegant ornament of speech, and can scarce do without it, it being an excellent substitute for thoughts and ideas, and for giving weight and "expression to the same; that sea-captains use it as part of their discipline, to ensure prompt obedience to orders, and generals, as an accessory to victory; nor does it surprise me, a member, by-theby, of the Peace Society, that oaths, imprecations and curses should form a fit accompaniment to the wholesale murder which men call war. Rich old

oaths and curses form the popular_vernacular of hell; and know that Lord Byron considered swearing a heavenly invention, professing to believe it divine in its origin. Many other great poets, too, and orators, and statesmen, have indulged slily in the luxury of oaths; though, for what reason I know not, they have seen fit to make small use of them in their songs, speeches, and State-papers. A celebrated queen, now dead, swore with great piquancy; and it is said, though I will not vouch for it, that a queen, now living, sometimes inserts an oath between a sip of her brandy-and-water and the whiffs of her cigarrette. That some women do swear, however, is an incontestible factfemales known to the world as "women," and females recognized as

ladies;" if no instance of the kind is known to you, Mr. Editor, I sincerely trust you may continue in this truly blissful ignorance, for an oath from female lips, fairly curdles the blood! May I never hear a second one!

Oaths pass sometimes for wit, sometimes for humor, and often for bravery; are daily heard in the streets of towns and cities, and frequently in private and gentlemanly circles; they abound in bar and billiard rooms, in brothels and bowling-alleys; are heard in hotels and stables; have been whispered in parlors, and even echoed through the halls of Congress. Yet, sir, in the teeth of al tis authority and precedent, I am compelled to say that I do not admire an ath; and that I detest swearing.

Though I do not now allude to the oath taken in courts of justice, at inaugurations, and coroners' inquests, I am prepared to attack even this species of swearing, if any can be found to defend it. Any man may dodge "the book,” and affirm instead of swear, if he will but pretend to a little scrupulosity of conscience, and profess to have no stomach for a regular oath; and I have often laughed, in my sleeve and out of it, at the grave judges and shrewd lawyers who are quire willing to take a man's word for the stringency of his religious views, yet make him approximate as near as possible to swearing, to restrain him from lying about other matters. Oaths, moreover, are but poor sureties for veracity. Men have been known to lie on the gallows, under torture, in the very jaws of death, on the last confines of Time, and the threshold of Eternity;

and it is a good, general rule, that he who regards not his word and sacred honor, will not regard his oath, WHEN THE PINCH COMES-the very moment when the value of an oath becomes most apparent; for lying and "false-witness" are absolute luxuries to no man, and seldom resorted to except in the extremest emergency. Lastly and chiefly: we are expressly commanded, in the best of books, to swear not at all," and though some commentators have argued that the prohibition applies to our "conversation only," which word occurs in the same verse with the above, I believe it would be difficult to show that conversation is there used in our sense of the word.

My dislike to oaths embraces the whole calendar; I fancy none of them. The smoothly running oath of the Latins, the majestic oath of the Greeks, the ambiguous oath of Spain, the soft, mus. cal oath of Italy, the thunderous oath of Germany, the crisp, crackling, trolling oath of France, are all alike to me-all on a par with the big, burly oath of the English. Nor would I care if I never heard any one of them again. For a beggarly dinner, I would dispose of my sole right and title to the privilege, and even pay a handsome premium to any company that would insure my ears forever against such assaults.

But, sir, between the eccentricity of these views, and my awkward manner of expressing them, I fear that I weary you. Bear with me, I beg; for, though my hand is all unused to the pen, I feel it my duty for once to write, and let the pen have its way.

I am fond of metaphysics, and have been somewhat given to their study; but I have not been able to discover what peculiar cast or quality of mind it is, that leads men to swear. Phrenologists pretend that the bump of veneration is either wholly wanting in the crania of swearers, or is else so small, it cannot be rightfully considered a phrenological tumulus. My observation, however, has taught me not to place phrenology among the positive sciences; like many delicate, attenuate, and beautiful theories, that science can be turned to little practical account; and, in this especial particular of swearing, to NO account. I have found mountains of veneration on the heads of the hardest swearers and mole-hills of reverence overtopping mouths that were never defiled with an oath-facts which admonish

me not to look to craniology for an explanation.

Gen. Paoli was of opinion that all barbarous nations swore from a certain violence of temper that could not be confined to earth, but was always reaching to the powers above. I consider this, however, an egregious error. The American aborigines were certainly barbarous enough when Columbus landed among them; and, though they possessed great violence of temper-a spirit which has never been tamed-they did not swear at all. It was not until the Pale Face taught him how, that the Red Man blasphemed. Indeed, it is among the barbarous races that we are to look, for awe, veneration and fear of God. Compare the white man's reverence for his God, with the Indian's for his Great Spirit, remembering the enlightenment of the one, the ignorance of the other; the former shrinks abashed from the comparison.

Again: it is in great cities, in towns, and civilized countries that swearing flourishes most vigorously. Paoli himself, went on to say, "that as is the variety of religious ceremonies, so is the variety of swearing." Wherever you find refinement, luxury, ease, affluence, and high civilization-in whatever countries these exist, there also will you find oaths in great abundance and variety.

Swearing originated in high life. Hence the proverb that it "came in at the head and went out at the tail,"meaning thereby, that the nobility and gentry were the first to adopt it, and that it was afterwards confined to the plebeians. However true this may have been when the proverb was penned, it no longer holds good. Swearing has not "gone out," either at head or tail, or else it has been revived; for we find the practice on every hand and amongst all classes. Like everything else, the custom seems to have had its series of rises, progressions, and declines. Under the first Charles of England (1635), it was a finable offence to swear; offices were established in every parish for the collection of the fines; and the funds thus accruing were paid over to the bishops for the relief of the poor. Thirty years after, under Charles II, there arose an aristocracy of oaths, the gentry having their curses, and the plebeians theirs: and to such height was the distinction carried, Keith relates that the nobility greatly exceeded the commons in their terrific maledictions, which were called "gentleman-oaths."

The result of much meditation and inquiry was the conclusion that swearing does not come of any special character of mind, but is rather the offspring of fashion, circumstance, and custom. A habit, that like one's coat may be put on or off, at will. In support of this view I gathered the following facts:

I once lived in a family, the head of which was an inveterate swearer. He was a stern man, and passionate: the slightest annoyance, the vaguest hint of trouble or perplexity, the least ripple in the stream of his existence, was sufficient to rouse his ire. Then, how the curses flocked to his lips, and were scattered broadcast around him! He had many sons, and though he never scrupled to swear before them, so positive were his commands to them not to imitate his example, and so sure the dread penalty that would have followed their disobedience, not one of them ever uttered an oath in my presence. Now, the inherent qualities of the mind will assert themselves-they will put forth bud and opening blossom, though circumstance, poverty or neglect may cut off the fruit. Had these boys had any native, mental proclivity towards swearing, the father's commands would have acted as but a partial restraint upon their tongues. My presence was, certainly, no check, for, like themselves, I was but a boy; and, moreover, no "blab," as they all knew.

Again: the hardest swearer will remain for hours, and even days, in the society of ladies, or in company with a parson, without uttering an oath, or an approach to one. A sailor never d-ns the eyes of his captain; a trooper will not swear in presence of his commanding officer; nor will an urchin in earshot of his father; even Byron, though he thought swearing a heavenly invention, seldom cursed in print.

I had begun to flatter myself that the position just mentioned that swearing is merely a habit-was impregnable. But my views have been well-nigh upset by the terrific oaths daily thundered forth from a CHURCH-STEEPLE now going up near my residence, causing great consternation and disquietude in the neighborhood, and not only impinging with dire effect upon my own nerves, but those also of all around. If men can ride an hundred miles with priest and parson without an oath, why can they not refrain from it on a church-steeple? If the parlor be too sacred a place to