XXVI.

THE DOUBLE-10NGUED.

"Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the glassy sod,
And sting the luckless foot that presses them?
There are who in the path of social life

H

Do bask their spotted skins in fortune's sun,
And sting the soul."

JOANNA BAILlie.

E is so called because he carries two tongues

in one-one for your presence and one for your absence; one sweet as honey, the other bitter as gall; one with which he oils you, the other with which he stings you. In talking with you he is bland and affable; but in talking about you he detracts or slanders. The other night, when at your hospitable board, he was complimentary and friendly; the night after, at the hospitable board of your neighbour, in your absence, he had no good word to say of you.

Such is the versatility of his nature, that he is called by a variety of names. Sometimes he is named "Double-faced," because he has two faces answering to his two tongues. Sometimes he is named "Backbiter," because if he ever bite any one it is behind his back, where he thinks he is not seen; and so soon

is he out of sight, that you can only learn who has bitten you from some honest friend that saw him do it and instantly hide himself under a covering which he always carries about with him for such occasions. He is sometimes named a "Sneak," because he has not courage to say candidly to your face what he means, but creeps about slyly among other people to say it, that he may evade your notice, and at the same time retain your confidence in him as a personal friend. He is sometimes named a "Snake-in-the-grass," because he secretes himself in shady places, waiting `his opportunity to sting without your knowing how or by whom it was done. In fine, he has been named a "Hypocrite," who comes to you in "sheep's clothing," but is in truth a "ravening wolf."

"His love is lust, his friendship all a cheat,

His smiles hypocrisy, his words deceit."

He welcomes you with a shake of the hand at his door, and says in soft flattering words, "How glad I am to see you, Mr. Johnson! Pray do walk in;" and while you are laying your hat, gloves, and umbrella on the hall table, he whispers to some one in the parlour, "That Fohnson has just come in, and I am sure I don't care to see him."

Mrs. Stubbs informs her husband on arriving home in the evening that she met Mrs. Nobbs in the street, and invited her to take a friendly cup of tea with them to-morrow, and then adds with emphasis, “but I do hope she will not come !"

A young gentleman complimented Miss Stokoe the

other night in company upon her "exquisite touch on the piano" and the "nightingale tones of her voice in singing;" but as he was walking home from the party with Miss Nance, he said to her (of course in the absence of Miss Stokoe) that "Miss Stokoe, after all that is said in her praise, is no more than an ordinary pianist and singer."

"That was a most excellent sermon you gave us this morning," said Mr. Clarke to the Rev. T. Ross, as he was dining with him at his house. "I hope it will not be long before you visit us again."

"I am obliged for your compliment," replied Mr. Ross.

A day or two after Mr. Clarke was heard to say that he had never listened to such a dull sermon, and he hoped it would be a long time ere the reverend gentleman appeared in their pulpit again."

"What darling little cherubs your twins are," said Mrs. Horton to Mrs. Shenstone in an afternoon gathering of ladies at her house. "I really should be proud of them if they were mine: such lovely eyes, such rosy cheeks, such beautiful hair, and withal such sweet expressions of the countenance! And then, how tastily they are dressed! Dear darlings! come and kiss me."

Mrs. Shenstone smiled complacently in return; and shortly after retired from the room, when the two "little cherubs" approached their prodigious admirer, with a view to make friends and impress upon her the solicited kiss. She instantly put them at arm's length

from her, saying to Mrs. Teague, who sat next her, "What pests these little things are, treading on my dress, and obtruding their presence on me like this. I do wish Mrs. Shenstone had taken them out of the room with her."

"I am deeply grieved to learn," said Farmer Shirley one day to his neighbour, Farmer Stout, "that your circumstances are such as they are. Now,

if you think I can help you in any way, do not be backward in sending to me. You shall always find a friend in me."

That very afternoon this same farmer Shirley was heard to say in a company of farmers at the "Queen's Head" that Stout had brought all his difficulties upon himself, and he was not sorry for him a bit. The next day Stout availed himself of the " great kindness" offered him by Shirley, and sent to ask the loan of a pound to pay the baker's bill, in order to keep the "staff of life" in the house for his family; when Shirley sent word back to him that he had "no pounds to lend anybody, much less one who had by his own extravagance brought himself into such difficult circumstances."

This double-tongued talker is not unfrequently met with in public meetings. Especially is he heard in "moving votes of thanks," and "drinking toasts." Fulsome praises and glowing eulogiums are poured out by him in rich abundance, which, as soon as the meetings are over, are eaten up again by the same person, but of course in the absence of his muchadmired gods.

It would not be difficult to go on with instances illustrative of these double-tongued exercises. They are almost as universal as the multifarious phases of society. They are met with in the street, in the shop, in the family, in the church, in the court, in the palace and cottage, among the rich and poor.

Addison, in writing of this fault in talking in his times, gives a letter which he says was written in King Charles the Second's reign by the "ambassador of Bantam to his royal master a little after his arrival in England." The following is a copy, which will show how in those days the double-tongued talked, and how the writer, a stranger in this country, was impressed by it.

"MASTER,-The people where I now am have tongues further from their hearts than from London to Bantam, and thou knowest the inhabitants of one of these places do not know what is done in the other. They call thee and thy subjects barbarians, because we speak what we mean, and account themselves a civilized people because they speak one thing and mean another; truth they call barbarity, and falsehood politeness. Upon my first landing, one, who was sent by the king of this place to meet me, told me that he was extremely sorry for the storm I had met with just before my arrival. I was troubled to hear him grieve and afflict himself on my account; but in less than a quarter of an hour he smiled, and was as merry as if nothing had happened. Another who came with