is the only sure road towards the goal; the architect of man's fortune lies within himself, for the truest fortune he can obtain is to reflect in old age that he has done his duty. How exalted are Pope's words "An honest man's the noblest work of God." There is something sublime in the idea of work from the great being the noblest work from Creator's hands; and how many moral virtues the patriot must nurture if he would always remain an honest man. A political career is a vast field of temptation, ambition is constantly in a vortex of excitement; tempting voices, like waters rushing on the plains, are threatening to invade the pure feelings of the heart, whilst envy, jealousy, and even hatred, are directed like venomed arrows against the politician's breast. Happy the man who is proof against the temptations of a public career! he is, indeed, an honest man. As honesty belongs to no age, let Young England lay the foundation of his career upon that never-failing basis. Let Young England shake hands with Old England, both having one aim, to live respected and die regretted. Yes, let our old and much-respected politicians be the model for the rising generation; and oh! ye young men in the glow of health, remember that pleasure, worldly, sensual pleasure is but a fleeting ray, leaving no shadow, save regret. "Oh! pleasure brief as bright thou art, A momentary ray— A dream roll'd o'er a vacant heart, To charm-and die away." Cultivate pleasures and joys, unfading. Be above the delusive tinsel, which gilds with counterfeit splendour-begin your early career in virtue, and you will end your days in happiness. Walk through this world of pilgrimage, so that its pageantry shall have wrought you no ill; cultivate those virtues which are alike the portion of poor and rich, till they become too often choked with the follies, if not the vices of society. If we deem the life of a virtuous man beautiful, there is a still more holy beauty in his death he has so lived as to look forward to a brighter inheritance; his conscience has echoed language born above; his sins have been the heir-looms of our first parents; his virtues have been his own training. A holy smile takes away the cold aspect of death; the sobs of the poor are the requiems which his parting soul receives. Young England, yours is now the bloom of life, but the spring is not ever upon our earth, and the wintry storms replace the summer's empyrean smiles; live in all the dear, and too evanescing delights of youth, but never lose sight of that epoch of more vigorous exertion. If England will sound your praise, it would as impartially lay to your charge the blame which you might deserve. Spirit of Charity awake,—golden rule, lay your charm around the young patriot's heart-waft your pleading voice to the ears of the wealthy. Young England, have ye ever been in a country place, where the member of that place is beloved? Have ye ever heard the poor shower blessings on a politician's name? Have ye seen them point to the schoolhouse and the factory with smiling faces? Have ye seen the poor upon a Sabbath day, kneeling in God's holy place of worship, imploring blessings and preparing for another week's honest labour. If it has never been your lot to behold such a scene, put off a tour to Italy, or a trip to Germany; wander when the last ball of the season is over, into one of those country places, whose member has, during that gay season, improved the condition of his dependents. The scene of happiness will follow you through life, for there are hours in our existence which neither pleasure nor folly can disembody from nemory. “Oh, none are `so absorb'd, as not to feel Ye might think of the poet's lines, Young England, after witnessing the endearing eye |