roar! It is the fatal breakers! Hard up the helm! Put the ship
about! See, on every hand frowns the fatal lee-shore! Pull taught
each rope--spread every sail. It is in vain! Throw out the anchors!
Haste! strain every nerve! Alas! _It is all too late._ The danger
cannot be escaped. On drifts the fated craft. Now she mounts the
crest of an angry wave, which hurries forward with its doomed
burthen. Now she dashes against the craggy points of massive rocks,
and sinks into the raging deep. One loud, terrific wail is heard,
and all is silent! On the rising of the morrow's sun, the spectator
beholds the beach and the neighboring waters strewn with broken
masts, rent sails, and drifting fragments--all that remains of the
proud ship which yesterday floated so gaily on the ocean waters!!

Behold, O ye youthful, a picture of the fate of those who rush upon
the career of life, without forethought or preparation, and without
the light of well-selected moral principles to guide them. All may
appear fair and promising at the outset, and for a season. But
before many years can elapse, the prospects of such youth must be
overclouded; and ere long disappointment, overthrow, disgrace and
ruin, will be the closing scenes of a life, commenced in so much
blindness.

"Well begun is half done," was one of Dr. Franklin's sound maxims. A
career well begun--a life commenced properly, with wise forecast,
with prudent rules of action, and under the influence of sound and
pure, moral and religious principles--is an advance, half-way at
least, to ultimate success and prosperity. Such a commencement will
not, it is true, insure you against the misfortunes which are
incident to earthly existence. But if persevered in, it will guard
you against the long catalogue of evils, vexatious penalties and