and how she rejoices, while she earns their provision of bread! Behold, now, the good man is returned from the field, and the humble board is spread for his repast. How plain and simple is his food! a mere sufficiency for the support of nature. It is, indeed, but a handful but it is eaten in quietness. Here is nothing of that superfluity which solicits the palled appetite of luxury; but here is enough for nature; here is a handful, and she asks

no more.

III, From this scene of humble happiness, let us go to the dwelling of the rich. Is this a sociable dwelling, or is it a prison? Behold! we cannot gain admission-the gates are made fast with bolts of iron. This is a sure sign that security is not here; and yet security is the friend of happiness. But who is yonder that walks so pensively, with looks of suspicion? It is the master of the house; he seems disturbed; he saw us approach, and concluded that we were coming to make him poor,

Miserable wretch! what profit hast thou in the abundance that thou possessest! Both thy hands, indeed, are full, but so likewise is thy heart-full of trouble and endless vexation. Or hast thou a moment's peace, how soon is it liable to be destroyed! The moth

and the rust shall corrupt thine unsunned garments—the thief shall break through and steal thy treasure. A misfortune that which thou wilt never be able to survive; for where thy treasure is, there is thy heart also.

Miserable wretch! Cast away that wealth which is the bane of thy happiness. Go to that poverty which thou dreadest, and to be happy, first be poor. Strange doctrine this to thee! but know for all this that it is just. The poor, whom thou despisest, are happier than thou art. Didst thou not hear the song of cheerfulness, didst thou not see the smile of contented industry, where there was but a handful?

Miserable wretch! What a painful, what a troublesome life dost thou lead! Thy servants curse thee-thy friends forsake thee. Friends did I say! Thou never hadst a friend; but those that might naturally have been thy friends desert thee, and scarce forbear to wish so useless a being dead.

Miserable wretch! In what sordid meanness dost thou pass thy days! With what jealousy dost thou look upon the very cringing dependents that pick up a wretched pittance at thy board! And are thy nights less painful or less vexatious than thy days? Does sleep, undisturbed sleep, await thee? Art thou

acquainted with quietness and repose? No; these are strangers, to whom thy gates are not opened. These have no society with cares, and fears, and perplexities, such as thou art exposed to both by day and by night. Better, surely, is a handful with quietness, than thy hoarded wealth with thy vexation of spirit.

Thus far of avarice, the peculiar wretchedness of which the Preacher, no doubt, had in view: but wealth has miseries arising from other causes than covetousness, which render a handful with quietness still preferable.

IV. Riches are not necessarily productive of evil. Nay, they may be made the means of happiness, when properly managed. They may contribute to the gratification of benevolence, and to the exercise of almost every social virtue. They may be employed in the diffusion of knowledge, or in the relief of indigence; and, when converted to these purposes, they are a real blessing: they increase the happiness of a benevolent temper, and give pleasure to their possessors, while they are useful to society.

But it is seldom that they are employed to these happy and beneficent ends. The right use of them is most commonly perverted; and what might have been a blessing, is rendered a curse by the abuse of it.

When riches are made subservient only to pride-when they are employed in foolish vanity and empty ostentation, what do they produce but travail and vexation of spirit? Those who place their happiness in being admired for splendour, will be frequently mortified by negligence, or traduced by envy. We are very unwilling to pay that deference which is expected from us only on the account of magnificence, and, whatever may be the cause of that unwillingness, it is certainly very reasonable; for he who hopes to be admired for that which gives him no merit, offers an insult to the reason of him from whom he looks for admiration: but when that admiration is withheld, vanity is mortified; and wealth, by being subservient to her desires, brings her only travail and anguish of spirit.

As much perverted is the use of riches, when they are employed in the gratification of luxury; and, of consequence, when thus used, they bring nothing but vexation.

Those who, like the prodigal in the Gospel, spend their substance in riotous living, lay up for themselves almost all the miseries that are incident to human nature: for what can be more wretched than the condition of him who is equally destitute both of health and peace ?

whose body is tormented with pain and disease, while his mind is racked with the reflec tion of guilt and folly? Yet such generally are the fruits of intemperance.

In these, and in many other respects, may the goods of fortune be abused; and hence that sore evil under the sun, viz. riches given to the hurt of the owners!

Let us then conclude, with the wise Preacher, that a little, with content and quietness, is preferable to much treasure, and trouble therewith. Let us be assured that peace of mind, as there can be no happiness without it, is the first thing worth our seeking. If this quietness is to be met with more frequently in an humble than in a high station, let us not be dazzled with false appearances, but conclude that the humble station is the better.

We have seen that riches are frequently a misfortune to those that possess them ; we have seen the miseries of avarice, the discontent of vanity, and the pains of intemperance; should we not then rather avoid than sigh for a condition that might expose us to misery, to discontent, and pain?

Let us not flatter ourselves that we should act more wisely than others in situations which we have contemplated, but never tried; for no man knows what influence a change of