There are men who may be induced to come to laugh; but, having been attracted by the lower motive, may go away to think, repent, and even pray. This is our aim-to attract, and then to interest and instruct; to lead men out of the deeps of vice, through the paths of sobriety, chastity, economy, affection, to happiness, religion, and God. And if we sometimes go down. very low into the ditch it is because we feel that there is no part so deep and so polluted, but that he who wallows there may be raised to the dignity of manhood, and even to the holiness of a saint. I ask no pardon then, but rather claim the approval of every lover of his kind, in that which I attempt by these appeals. I have talked this afternoon about a convivial sentiment, about a sort of recognized motto of good fellowship. Will it be a vain thing if I have convinced some one here that such supposed good fellowship is nothing of the kind, but a burlesque of all that is sweet and loving in the mutual intercourse of men? Friendship and sociality are sweet endearing elements. But where can be the good fellowship of that which breaks up households, scatters nature's tenderest ties, and helps to break trustful and confi ding hearts? O do not profane these blessed, sacred links by such a horrid degradation. Call no man friend who calls you from your fireside into the public-house. Call no man friend who would detain you one half-hour from those children whom you toil to feed, from that wife it is your pride to cherish. Call no man friend who offers to treat you to that which your nearest and your dearest kindred may not share with you, and which embitters your thoughts or feelings against those who are entitled to your first regard. If it must be glasses round, let it be glasses round at home, and that in rigid moderation. Be moderate just now, if you were never moderate before, for, mark me, hard times are coming; a rough winter is setting in for Manchester. We see the signs of it already. The ominous "short time" already has begun; the engine snorts forth its last pant two hours earlier than in better days, and the tramp of wooden clogs upon the pavement is later in the morning and earlier in the afternoon than formerly. The signs of the times seem indicative of yet worse things. The sullen fratricidal snarl which comes over the Atlantic, sounds ominous and cruel. And all the indices of coming poverty are pointing towards the Man-chester working man. It is his brawny shoulders which must bear the brunt. O, if Manchester had been a sober, homeloving city during the last ten years, and if her workmen had made hay while the sun shone, and hoarded up their earnings in happier times-if the cry of "glasses round" had not had too musical a jingle in their ears, if, instead of this, they had preferred the better music of a wife's endearment, and a lisping child's young voice-if the poor man's wage, which had drifted week by week into the landlord's coffers, had been husbanded to fill the pantry, and to dress the family for church, then our artizans would have been mailed to buffet with the brunt of still worse times than these-they might have snapped their fingers at brawling Jonathan, and bid him brag till he was tired, while they, with a full board, and a warm heart, and a glad home, awaited the issue, fearless of poverty or want, and content with a respite from a daily toil which gave them time to prove the gladness of an English home. But alas it is bootless to try to undo the mischief of the past. We have to confront with what valour we may, the present and the future. Men have spent their earnings, they have enriched the landlord with their wage; they have impoverished themselves by the "good-fellowship" of the bar and the tap, and now a hard-handed and a pinching winter is setting in, short time has come, and there is nothing in the Saving's bank; short time has come, and short commons must follow. But how make the best of this bad job? Is it too late to shelter a little against the blast? You must retrench, you must bow your head, if you would not be blown down. When the hurricane swept over the plain, it tore the knotted oak tree up by the root, but the gentle reed beside the stream, sprung up unhurt, after the blast was gone, because it bent its head, until the storm was overpast, and this is what you must do. You must begin to retrench-aye, don't laugh at the word, I said retrench. I can tell you how to make your home more comfortable, while you are only working half-time, than many of you did while you were in full employ. Take home every farthing of your wage to your wife, and just cut the landlord altogether for this winter, and I'll engage to say that the families of at least a hundred working men in this room now, will be better off than they were while the husband was earning nearly double his present weekly wage. The wife will be a gainer, the cupboard will be fuller, the children not so hungry, for you know as well as I that many's the time you have squandered far more than half your wages in standing "glasses round." By sturdy manhood, and by trust in God-by registering in heaven an oath of sobriety, and a vow to be as industrious as the times will let you, you may even yet keep the wolf of want from your door, and hold your home together, and escape the tender mercies of the parish. I call you to this manliness, and to this trust in God. I invite you thus to wrestle in that strength which shall assuredly prevent your defeat with every adverse influence. Clothe yourself against these wintry frosts in the raiment of a stern resolve; do what you have to do, be it much or little, with all your might. Set yourself to withstand the sorrow which endureth for a night, in the hope and prospect of the joy which cometh in the morning; and, aided by the discipline of abstinence which these hard times have forced upon you, you shall find that morning dawn with a happier brightness and a purer joy, than any which ever your path before; for instead of finding you shutting out its sunshine behind the screen of a tap-room, it rose upon will find you renewing your youth and buoyancy of hope amongst the children of your love, and of your home; and, feeling the responsibilities of a father's station, you will feel also the gladness of a son's devotion, as you remember the Heavenly Father who has helped you from so black a winter to so bright a spring. By these means, working men, gird yourselves with the buckler of duty and of conscience, to parry the hard blasts of the coming season. "Though dangers rise your path to bar, Though dimly shines your guiding star, For those who now your worth despise, "Your deeds let no dishonour taint, "Though bright eyes seldom on you gleam, For if the laurel you would wear, Your heart must learn to do and dare, But if you would pull through indeed with a hero's heart, and a hero's reward—and land yourself, your wife and little ones, safe on the other side the stormy sea, you must make up your mind to keep aloof from the public-house, and have no more to do with "glasses round." is his Castle." An Englishman's House is THERE is a national as well as a social meaning in the phrase which forms our present title. It refers to the independent right a native of our country has over his own home, and the supremacy to which he is entitled as soon as he gets within its walls. No matter how subordinate the post you hold in your employer's business; no matter how many are set over you to command and order you here and there; no matter to how many broadclothed upstarts you are expected to touch your hat; as soon as the clock has struck the hour for going home, you may begin to feel the gradually swelling sense of equality, and as soon as ever the latch has clicked behind you after crossing the threshold of your dwelling-place, you feel that the drudge has grown into a man; that the obscure private has been promoted into commander in chief-and, as the eyes of children and relations look up to you in love-you forget the colder and the |