1

III.

My son, flee youthful lusts, and pursue Love. The desires and the cupidities of the young man are numerous. There is within him a love which is of nature, of the flesh, and of the world, which engenders, alas! sin and death. This love speaks of devotion and of sacrifice, and is at bottom only the most perfect selfishness. It seems to wish to cause thy happiness, and if thou hast not another and a more holy love, it will deliver thee to the power of the remorseful feelings and the avenging pains of hell. It seems to render thee happy, to animate thy countenance with the most beauteous colours, and its breath will wither thy life, blight thy days, and will, perchance, make thee descend without consolation into a premature tomb.

What is there which can avert so great a misfortune? True Love, my son. That which will save thee from the

snares and the afflictions of carnal love will not be the warnings of thy friends, the voice of conscience, the forewarning of the pains of hell, the fear of death, the experience of the sufferings which this love brings upon us. All these voices are good and holy; but still more is necessary for thee.

That which will save thee is the true love; the love which St. John preaches in his epistle, and of which he says, "We love God, for He has loved us first;" the love which will bring it to pass that thou shalt cast thyself at the feet of Jesus and shalt kiss them, because He has forgiven thee much; the love which, according to St. Paul, is worth more than the power of miracles or the tongue of the angels. "Love God," St. Augustine used to say, "and then do what you like."

IV.

Lastly, my son, flee youthful lusts, and follow after Peace,

with all those who call upon the Lord out of a pure heart. The young man loves to domineer, to oppress, to make the weak feel his strength.

Quarrels, dissensions, are numerous in the world.

My son, be not with those who are full of envy, of jealousy, and of disputes, but seek "those who call upon the Lord out of a pure heart." There is a society which thou must shun and another which thou must seek. Alas! how many sins, how many violent passions [are there] which only await within thee the example and the provocation of the wicked to show themselves with strength, and to destroy thee. Consort then with the good and be in peace with them. If there be any difference between you, employ only the weapons which bear the stamp of truth and of charity. Fear not men, but fear the Lord, who is also the God of thy brethren; fear the Lord who does not strive, who does not cry, who does not break the bruised reed, and who has said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God."

God be with you, my son, acquire these four treasures, and thou shalt be eternally rich. That is the wealth wished for thee by

N Miss Marsh's "English Hearts and English
Hands," she tells a beautiful story of two
66 navvies," and
and a Deptford boy. Miss
Marsh had been on board the "Jura," and
amongst the five hundred men who were

about to sail, she found two honest navvies

who had left themselves without warm clothing to protect them from the severe cold, rather than remain in debt. The ship was just about to sail, and Miss Marsh hastened on shore to buy two warm jackets. The shopkeeper had no one that he could spare to take the parcel to the ship. The night was bitterly cold, and not a moment was to be lost. What was to be done? Miss Marsh says:

"Beneath a lamp in the street stood a group of boys. Its light fell on a face which seemed to introduce the sort of messenger I desired. The story was told him. Now, my boy, we are strangers, and I do not want to know your name or where you live, nor any clue to either. You might take these vests and make twenty shillings upon them, or give them away to your father and brothers, if you choose. I

should never send the police after you. But my confidence in the honour of English boys, which stands so high now, would be broken down. And those two noble, honest men would suffer, and might take cold and go into a consumption,

and die; and their wives and children break their hearts about them.'

"The boy's eyes flashed under the lamp-light, and snatching the parcel, he said, 'Trust me.

I'm the boy for it.'
the worldly all we had

with us, after paying for the vests. I told him how sorry I was for this; but that it would pay his boat each way, and

he would have sixpence and a happy heart to lie down with

at night.

"It's a plenty. Father's a waterman. I shall get his boat for nothing. All's right!' and off he ran.

"A note had been enclosed in the parcel to one of the officers with whom I had had some conversation, requesting him to send me one line by post that night or next morning, to say that the parcel had reached its destined owners.

"The next day passed, and the next, but no letter came from the Jura.' We read in the Times that she had sailed on Thursday. The day posts of Saturday arrived, but brought no news of the parcel.

"My trust failed. 'My boy is dishonest,' I said; 'and my confidence in human honour can never be the same again.'

"But by the last post on Saturday evening came a note from the officer alluded to, to say that about seven o'clock on Wednesday evening, a boy had brought a parcel on board, and had requested permission to deliver it to two men, named James P and John M-, in the presence of the captain of the ship, the chief officer of the corps, and the medical officer.

"Having discharged his duty, the last sound heard amidst the splashing of his oars, as he left the ship's side, was the shout, 'Tell that ere lady I kept my word, and the jackets was in time.'

"All honour to the English boy, who sustained my right to trust my brothers, young or old. The world is not so wide but we shall meet again, I hope; and meet when we may, the trusty and the trusting will be friends."