BY REV. EBEN FRANCIS.

It is now many years since a near friend of mine uttered his first oath. We were very intimate in our youthful days. I have thought that I would write a little story about him, for some of the little folks of these times to read, hoping that it will not only be interesting, but do them good; for I am indeed sorry to know that swearing is a very common sin among the boys of our times.

The parents of my young playfellow were of the humbler class in society; they were industrious and prudent, and took great pains to teach him what was right. They lived in the metropolis of New England, where my schoolmate was born. His father wrought with the saw, the plane, the hammer, and such tools as carpenters use about their business. His home was a neat, wooden two-story house, in one of the streets of that part of Boston which was generally known, when we were boys, by the name of the MILL-POND. I suppose that most of my little readers who live in the city can tell where it is. Many changes have taken place there since my childhood. When I was a small boy it was called the town,—now we never hear of it but as the city of Boston. Its population has increased rapidly; its territory has been extended; it has grown in wealth, in splendor, in its means for mental and moral improvement; in the number and convenience of its public schools,—the pride and ornament, or the disgrace, of any place. Yes, Boston is not, in appearance or in fact, what it once was.

But I am getting off from my story. I was saying that my young friend resided on the "new-land"—no; the "Mill-Pond;"—well, it's all the same—for when they dug down old Beacon Hill, they threw the dirt into the Mill-Pond, and when it was filled up, or made land, the spot was still known as the Mill-Pond, and oftentimes was called the new-land. In later years, there have been other portions added to the city, by making wharves, and filling up where the tide used to ebb and flow, and where large vessels could float.

But again I am digressing too far from the story.

So soon as my friend was old enough, he was sent to one of the primary schools, and was a pretty constant scholar at that, and afterwards at a grammar school, till he was about twelve years old. He was, of course, much with other lads of his own age, and some who were older and younger than himself. He was, also, often in the streets, and as there were a great many people who used profane language in those days,—as there are at the present time,—he heard much of it; yet he had been so carefully trained that he did not for years utter wicked words.

It is always painful to most persons, old as well as young, to hear profanity, even though it be very common in their hearing, if they are never accustomed to its use.

My young friend had been taught to reverence the name of that great Being who made heaven and earth and all things. He was a member of a Sabbath school, and thus had much valuable advice from his faithful teacher to govern his conduct in word and deed. For a while he heeded this, and was careful of his moral character. But by-and-by, he overstepped the bounds of right.

It is very true that "evil communications corrupt good manners;" and that if one would not be bad, one means of safety is to keep out of bad company.

My friend was, in a few years, placed in a store, where there was a large business carried on. He came in contact with persons who were not so carefully instructed as he had been. They made no hesitation in pronouncing the names of God and Jesus Christ in a blasphemous and profane manner. He resisted the pernicious influence of their example for a while, but at last it became so familiar to his ears, that he could hear wicked words spoken without even a thrill of horror in his bosom.

He, however, had not the disposition to speak them, till one day, when some little thing in the store did not suit him, his passion was aroused, and, in the angry excitement of the moment, he spoke out,—and in that unguarded expression there was profanity,—a miserable, blasphemous, wicked word. He had uttered his first oath. The disposition had been lurking in his heart for several days to do this; but he had not been able to so far lower his moral sense as to do it before. Now he felt as though he had done a brave act,—that he had achieved something very grand. But soon, very soon, conscience whispered her gentle yet severe rebuke. She complained sadly of the wickedness that was done. The blush of shame mantled his cheek. Remorse took hold on his spirit. He looked about to see who was upbraiding him; but none seemed to notice it. He resolved that he would not again give occasion for such feelings of regret and sorrow to himself as he then felt.

Could you have then looked into his heart, you would have pitied him. This resolution he kept a few weeks, when, being a little irritated, he a second time profaned the holy name of Deity. This time he felt some compunctions of conscience, but they were not as powerful as before; the first step had been already taken, and a second was much easier.

I need not go on to tell you how he, not long after, broke a second resolution, and so on, till, ere many months, he had become really a swearing young man.

It all sprang from the first sinful act; and when at last he did break himself of the habit, it was not done without a serious struggle.

I have told you this story, my young readers, because I thought it might be, not only interesting to you, but because I hoped it might be the means of leading you to reflect upon the uselessness and wickedness of PROFANITY; and that it might aid in impressing on your minds the importance of governing your passions and keeping your tongues free from evil speaking.

I see my friend, about whom I have written, quite often. He is now a parent, and occupies an eminent position in the community; but he often thinks of his former life, and says he has not yet ceased to lament his FIRST OATH. Let this fact, then, teach you how a recollection of the sins of boyhood, even though you may call them little sins, will be cherished through life, and poison many moments that would otherwise be happy ones. How important that childhood be pure and righteous in the sight of God, and to our own consciences, in order to insure a happy manhood and old age!