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Rh How much of happiness is there in the thought, that less then ten millions of men, own nearly all the wealth, houses and lands in the nation, and their possessions still increasing, and that mainly from the labor of others? How much of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," is there for these vast multitudes—the producers of the world's wealth—who are daily forced into a battle for bread—among whom, are great numbers of as industrious and worthy men and women as ever stood up in the light of day? But, to whom, "day unto day uttereth no speech, and night unto night showeth no knowledge"—brings no promise of release from everlasting toil this side "the land where souls are free!"

The author of an English work entitled "The Elements of Social Science," presents a sad, but too true picture of the manner in which thousand, nay, millions, of our fellow men are forced to pass their lives. He says:

The life of our working classes is worse than that of most of the beasts of burden. They toil unremittingly, at a laborious, monotonous, and in many cases a deadly occupation; without hope of advancement, or personal interest in the work they are engaged in. At night their jaded frames are to tired to permit their enjoyment of the few leisure hours; and the morn awakens them to the same dreary day of ceaseless toil. Even the seventh day, their only holiday, brings them, in this country, little gaiety, little recreation …. Thus have the poor to toil on, as long as their strength permits. At last some organ gives way, the stomach, the eyes or the brain; and the