A certain sacred writer tells us, that the tongue is an unruly member, and preaches much concerning the government of it; – but I dare not presume to insist too much on his authority, as he has been, with others of his cotemporaries, pretty much exploded for almost half a century; and I might be look'd upon, by my polite readers, as a very old-fashion'd silly fellow to make any mention of him.

But I may venture, without running the risque of being read with a horse-laugh, to quote the words of another very great and learned person of a more modern date, who says, – that the tongue is the most dangerous of all weapons; – that it is capable of destroying all peace, all love, all harmony in the world; – of sowing dissentions among families; of disuniting the hearts of the dearest friends and relations; of ruining the reputation and fortune of whomsoever it is levell'd against; and that even murders and the worst of mischiefs may be occasion'd by it.

That the tongue, when it becomes the instrument of a malicious heart, carries a thousand daggers in it, is a truth which the observation of every one evinces. – But this is not all, – public abuse or private scandal, defamation and detraction, are not the only vices of the tongue, – an unguarded word is frequently productive of the most unhappy consequences, – it wounds, as it were, by chance-medley, and a person may be stabb'd in the most tender part without any intention in the giver of the blow.

A talkative disposition, or, in other words, a passion for repeating every thing one sees and hears, or even guesses at, is extremely dangerous to society; and tho' it is a foible proceeding rather from levity than ill-nature, sometimes produces the same effects; – those guilty of it, perhaps, may mean no hurt; – but, alas! they consider not how far the person to whom they are speaking may be interested in the report they make, and that what they imagine of no moment may stab him to the quick.