That means a vicious, because growing, tendency to constant increase and exaggeration, which is the real principle of too much drinking that makes a drunkard, too much smoking that makes a nervous invalid, too much idleness that makes an unsuccessful life. If you will listen to the greatest orators or read their speeches, if you will read the works of the greatest authors, you will find no exaggeration of language to speak of even at most important moments, and the very temperateness of these orations and writings has a wonderful effect. Read, if you have not done so, the little speech of Mr. Lincoln's at Gettysburg, and see how simple, how temperate it is, and yet it is said by all students and judges, by any one who really studies it, to not only cover the whole subject Mr. Lincoln had in hand, but to be one of the most stirring speeches that have been made to the American public. On the other hand, go some day and listen to a cheap stump-speaker, and in the course of half an hour you will hear that this and that is the "most magnificent," the "most frightful," the "greatest crime that cries to Heaven," and abundant other phrases out of all proportion to the subjects, which do not carry the weight of one of Lincoln's simple sentences in his address. These unnecessary superlatives are, in their way, swearing, which in principle are as bad, and as evil in their results on the user and the listener, as is the use of sacred names. They are the beginning of which the latter is the end. The feeling which makes a boy or man want to use exaggerated terms is the real evil. It grows like any other weakness, until his talk is puerile and of no value. And if he would avoid swearing, or cure himself of it, he must begin there, and not at the particular words he has discovered himself to be using, and which may have called forth criticism because they were sacred to those who heard them. * * * * * FAMOUS FREQUENTERS OF PUBLIC LIBRARIES. A London newspaper says of the late Mr. Robert Harrison, formerly secretary and librarian to the London Library, whose death occurred a short time ago, that he had an extensive acquaintance with famous men of letters. In a Presidential address at the Librarians' Conference at Nottingham in September, 1891, he gave some interesting reminiscences of some of the eminent frequenters of the library: "The most conspicuously original man among them was Carlyle. He often visited the library. His conversation was most amusing, full of extravagant and exaggerated statements, and always ending with a loud laugh, apparently at himself. He used the library books extensively for his later works, and was guilty of the reprehensible practice of writing on the margins of their books. He must admit that his remarks were never meaningless, but chiefly consisted of corrections of dates or errors in the text."