is responsible to, and dependent upon the other; all co-operate for the general good and mutual benefit. For of what use would be our metals, if unwrought? and our raw textile materials, if unwoven? A special blessing attends the honest results of labour, and the peacefully-gathered fruits of industry. There are few sounds sweeter to my ear than the chick of the shuttle, accompanied by some melody sustained by half-a-dozen voices, in a respectable loom-shop. The ALMIGHTY has mercifully given us all things for our happiness; but in such a state that they require the labour of man to render them beneficial to the real and artificial wants of society. To work,

therefore, in some form or another, is the lot and condition of all so that it is our business to learn and labour truly-i.e., earnestly and honestly-to get our own living, "not slothful in business," and to do our duty in that position in which it has pleased PROVIDENCE to place us.

Some homely proverbs to be found in "Poor Richard's Almanack," written by that celebrated man (essentially a man of the people), Dr. Franklin, are well worth treasuring in our minds as rules of conduct. He says

"He that hath a trade, hath an estate."

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'Diligence is the mother of good luck; and GOD gives all things to industry."

"Then plough deep, while sluggards sleep,

And you shall have corn, both to sell and to keep." "Many without labour would live by their wits only; but they break for want of stock."

"He that by the plough would thrive

Himself must either hold or drive."

Thus in every respect, both divine and human, is labour commended; and it will not be difficult to demonstrate that it possesses its equal share of happi

ness.

So wisely and beneficently ordained are all the dispensations of PROVIDENCE, that each class of society has its proportionate share of joys and sor

The

rows. No condition or rank of life is free from pain, or devoid of pleasure. The enjoyments of the affluent are more exciting; but their cares and their disappointments are more weighty and more oppressive than those of the poor. As riches increase, ambition, pride, and covetousness too often follow, and occupy that place in our nature which previously was the abode of industry and contentment. range of action with the opulent is wider, but the responsibilities are proportionate. "To whom much is given, from him much will be required." Your circle is more contracted, but your enjoyment of life is less artificial and less trammelled by the whims and caprices of fancy and fashion. In comparative poverty, you have something to wear; but there are some who, loaded with plenty, and puzzled with choice, declare they have nothing to wear; and well are they rebuked by an American poet, in the concluding moral of his beautiful poem, "Nothing to Wear:

"Oh, ladies, dear ladies, the next sunny day,

Please trundle your hoops just out of Broadway,
From its whirl and its bustle, its fashion and pride,
And the temples of Trade which tower on each side,
To the alleys and lanes, where Misfortune and Guilt
Their children have gathered, their city have built;
Where Hunger and Vice, like twin beasts of prey,

Have hunted their victims to gloom and despair; Raise the rich, dainty dress, and the fine broidered skirt, Pick your delicate way through the dampness and dirt,

Grope through the dark dens, climb the rickety stair To the garret, where wretches the young and the old, Half-starved and half-naked, lie crouched from the cold. See those skeleton limbs, those frost-bitten feet, All bleeding and bruised by the stones of the street; Hear the sharp cry of childhood, the deep groans that swell From the poor dying creature who writhes on the floor; Hear the curses that sound like the echoes of Hell,

As you sicken and shudder and fly from the door : Then home to your wardrobes, and say, if you dare— Spoiled children of Fashion-you've nothing to wear! And oh! if perchance there should be a sphere

Where all is made right which so puzzles us here,—

Where the glare, and the glitter, and the tinsel of Time
Fade and die in the light of that region sublime,—
Where the soul, disenchanted of flesh and of sense,
Unscreened by its trappings, and shows, and pretence,
Must be clothed for the life and the service above,
With purity, truth, faith, meekness, and love;—
Oh, daughters of Earth! foolish virgins, beware!
Lest in that upper realm you have nothing to wear !"

Some of you may occasionally experience the pains of hunger, cold, and scanty clothing; but very many of the rich groan with the pains arising from excess and dissipation.

Do not, therefore, envy the rich. Remember the Divine remark, "How hard is it for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of Heaven!" Such holy authority I quote with some reluctance, knowing we have others among us so pre-eminently qualified to explain and to teach the higher paths of righteousness. I can only offer more humble and more worldly advice.

"Vessels large may venture rore,

But little boats should keep near shore."

The

To be contented with our position is a virtue most difficult to attain; but that it is unwise to murmur, is humourously shewn by Addison, in his "Mountain of Miseries." The story is, that Jupiter made a proclamation that every mortal might bring his troubles, and throw them into one heap with permission to exchange for any other fad therein. old man threw in his aged part and got a young wife who soon made a fool of hi. The young man got a wiser wife; but she boredom out of his life. The labourer got money, which he soon spent. The rich man, health and strength, which he speedily abused. The man who deplored as ignorance, got a heap of knowledge, which put him out of humour with his present lot, and qualified him for no other. The lonely man got friends, hom he quarrelled with. The busy man obtained retirement and was

soon sick of it. When all was distributed, the lamentations and regrets were so loud, that Jupiter permitted each man to resume his own burden; which each gladly did, and so marched off infinitely more satisfied than when he came.

Now, we need not in these enlightened days pass through such an unpleasant ordeal, but we may derive a good lesson not to repine at our misfortunes or to envy the happiness of others.

"The swelling of an outward fortune can
Create a prosperous--not a happy-man ;
A peaceful conscience is the true content,
And wealth is but her golden ornament."

Having partially considered the quality and duty of labour, let us consider the quality and duty of wealth, and inquire what its possessors, the richer classes, give to the working classes in exchange for their labour. Now, whence and what is wealth? It is the aggregate surplus of labour realised. We receive the raw commodity; we work it up into form and shape; and we dispose of it to the consumer, whose payment in excess of the total cost of the material and the labour expended thereon, forms the wealth of the community, or, in other words, the profit of our labour economised by our skill and industry; and which in this country is computed by Lord Overstone to considerably exceed fifty millions per annum, after payment of all taxes. Such is the reward of educated industry. Contrast it with ignorant labour. The poor Indian has his cotton growing abundantly about his dwelling; but such are his ignorance and apathy, that although a little rice satisfies his daily wants,-although a penny or twopence per day will cover all his expenses,-still, he cannot compete with you in the markets of the world; and therefore, subsisting upon his own actual work only, and making no profit, his one talent remains without increase; that is, he consumes the value or equivalent of his labour, and therefore does not accu

mulate capital or wealth; and he thus remains poor because he has not learnt the way to acquire wealth. His poverty may be imputed to ignorance or misfortune; but in this country, where industry meets with so much encouragement, a man's abject poverty may, in far too many instances, be traced to improvidence, to extravagance, idleness, dissipation, or to some depravity.

To illustrate my assertion that "wealth is the aggregate surplus of labour realised," I will ask you to picture to yourselves a man saving some little of the value of his own labour. In time he employs a fellow-labourer, and saves a little from that; then a third, and a fourth, and so on. He soon economises manual labour, by employing some machinery, which represents the united labour of 100 or 1000 men: and thus the man who perhaps the first year saved only £1, the second £2, the third £4, may, if he retains the same ratio, realise in twenty years-how much do you suppose? Why, £500,000 at least. And this has actually been accomplished by many men once as poor as any in this room. I know one such, who in early life worked for 15s. a-week: he managed to lay by a little in the Savings Bank, which he so increased yearly that as the result of his industry and good conduct, he becarne an exceedingly wealthy man, and well deserving the fruits of his labour, for he is generous and charitable in proportion to his wealth, and exceedingly beloved and esteemed by all who know him;-wealth having but enlarged and rendered practical the noble qualities of his nature.

The history of Chess affords another example of multiples of the smallest beginnings. It is said the game was invented by an Eastern philosopher, who claimed from his sovereign in payment a grain of wheat for the first square, two grains for the second, and so on,-doubling the quantity for each square in succession. The monarch, astonished at a request so apparently simple, ordered a sack of wheat to be