heart; and ye shall find rest to your souls. Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest t; for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." He is not a hard task master; He has no chains in which to bind you but the chains of love; He wants no service from you but the surrender of your heart. He has a right to this, for "He has bought you with His own precious blood." "He has died, the just for the unjust, to bring your life and immortality to light." And now, from His cradle in Bethlehem, from His cross on Calvary, and from His throne in heaven, He entreats you to enlist in His service. I have spoken of the wages that He pays. But they are not wages, they are free gifts of grace and love. "The Gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." "Behold, then, we now set before you life and death, blessing and cursing, therefore choose life that you and your seed may live." Don't suppose that past sins can render you unacceptable; it was to save sinners that the Redeemer died. Now, we have tried to set the two services plainly forth, we must leave the result with God, and with your consciences. "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve; if Baal be God serve Him, if God be God serve him." O, accept the yoke made easy by the interposition of the Great Elder Brother, take up the burden made light by the atonement of the Saviour, and your's shall be the same reward as is reaped by the brightest of the innumerable company, even an abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom and joy of your Lord.

No. 6.]

THIRD SERIES OF LECTURES

DELIVERED IN THE FREE TRADE HALL,

BY THE

REV. A. MURSELL.

Make Day while the Sun Shines."

IN my last address I forbore to enlarge upon the economical part of the subject, because I intended to devote an entire lecture to that interesting topic. Now, for my own part, I can't bear to hear people for ever talking about economy. My beau ideal of a dry book is one on political economy, and my beau ideal of a dry lecture-whether a public lecture, a parlour lecture, or a curtain lecture-is a lecture upon social economy. The only difference in the effects of the public and the curtain lectures would be, that the one would send you to sleep when you ought to keep awake, while the other would keep you awake when you ought to be going to sleep. Still, notwithstanding the difficulty of making the subject interesting, I do propose to devote this afternoon to the task of impressing upon working men especially this habit of economy. I hope you won't go to sleep; and I shall take it as a kinduess if you will pinch

each other in the fleshy part of the leg, as soon as you hear the faintest attempt at a snore on the part of your next door neighbour.

The reason why I take this subject of economy as the topic of address to-day is, first of all, because, though rather a dull one, it is most important; and secondly, because I think the prosperous state of trade and the abundant employment which there is available just now for all able-bodied and willingminded men, affords a very suitable opportunity for impressing its necessity upon the minds of the employed.

4

There needs little to be said to prove the importance of the subject we have in hand. You know as well as I can tell you that the happiness and well-being of families is involved in it. You know that homes have been broken up; that blithe spirits have been crushed for ever; that misery that might have been averted has been induced; that unions that might have been happy have been embittered; that hearts that once were light and gay have been broken-through the disregard of this rule of economy. You know that furrows, deep and unnatural, have been graven on the faces of those who might have kept their youth and beauty on for years; that raven tresses have become prematurely laced with silver; that the upright form has been early bent as if with age; that care has rounded the shoulders, and stooped the necks of many, who have not run one half of their three score years and ten; and that the destroying angel Discontent has set his mark of doom upon the door-posts of ten thousand families, whose children might have been dandled upon Comfort's lap, and rocked in Fortune's cradle. You know that all this, and more than this, has been the result of the improvidence and recklessness of many of the working classes of this country. Am I wrong, then, in calling this an important subject; and do I err in bringing it before you as worthy of attention?

And I think, moreover, that this is a very appropriate time for such an appeal as the one I propose to make to you.

I

have taken as my subject, "Make hay while the sun shines ;" and I have done so because I believe the sun does shine over the present prospects of the working man much more brightly than it has done for years. Through all these November rains, and fogs, and dark days, there is sunshine on the path of the industrious operative, and he ought to be making the best of its genial light. Employment is now so good that even our radical reformers have forgotten their grievances, and our progressive men are too hoarse with their past exertions to continue their patriotic agitations. The "kings of two hands" have those two hands too full of the gifts of Providence, in the shape of plenty to do, to care for the munificent gifts-or rather offers-of low bidders for political fame in the radical auction-mart. It is always satisfactory and gratifying news to hear that, on the occasion of a new arrival in a family, "mother and child are doing well;" and so it is equally satisfactory and gratifying, in connection with the great social family, to hear that master and men are doing well. We do not exactly hear this pleasing news; because in prosperous times people are always very quiet. They sing out loud enough when trade is slack, and we hear enough about their grievances; but when they are filling their pockets they do not care to let all the world know it. Complaints are always much louder than thanksgivings. If you were to say anything to one of our great merchant princes about the present prosperity of trade, he would, ten to one, stick his fingers in his pockets, and shrug up his shoulders, and say, "Well-yes-things are tolerably brisk just now; I have known them to be worse, certainly; but there is no knowing how long it may last." Anything rather than fully and plainly admit that they are minting money as fast as it is possible to coin it, and doubling their fortunes in almost every fresh transaction. We no not hear much of the prosperity of business; but we infer it from the portentous silence that reigns throughout the business world. Manufacturers look less haggard, but more important,

than they did six months ago. There's a sort of devil-maycare jauntiness about them now which is quite refreshing: the trips between the warehouse and the bank perhaps are not more frequent than formerly; but you can tell by the very creak of the capitalist's boots that he is going to deposit and not to draw a sum of money. We e see the prosperity if we do not hear it. There is nothing better calculated to bring out the discontent and bad blood of the working classes than a so-called reform meeting; but, since there is no discontent and no bad blood circulating, our reform meetings are well nigh deserted. I do not say this as a matter of satisfaction; for I much regret that one of the finest orators in this kingdom had so few people out to listen to him ten days ago in this hall, that he actually had to decline to speak at all. But still, this indifference to matters which were called vital and essential to the well-being of the country, is an indication that bread and cheese is a very effectual specific for many diseases, both of the body and the mind. And we see the signs of this prosperity in the curling smoke which is vomited all day from our towering chimney tops; we hear it in the pattering of hundreds of wooden clogs upon the pavement stones at six o'clock in the morning, as some of us are lying snug and warm in bed; we see it in the lighted windows of the mill at six o'clock in the evening; and hear it in the buzzing of engine and the clatter of hammer throughout the live-long day. Now, we know that mills cannot be kept going-forges cannot be kept open-business cannot be maintained agog-without the hands of the working man being pretty full. And we know, too, that the hands of the working man cannot be full without his pocket becoming, if not proportionately, at least considerably, fuller than it was in the days of slack work. Then let us look at the indications which our operatives shew of this better state of trade. Do they give any such indications at all? We have seen that they give one, in their lack of interest in politics, and in their carelessness about vote by ballot and the suffrage; but, judging from out