While we write, the great orator of the age has lectured the people of Hawarden in particular, and of England in general, on the virtues of thrift. The subject is worthy of his genius. Thrift lies at the foundation of all individual or national greatness. The _Times_ notes that Mr. Gladstone only harps on an old string when he says that Englishmen are lacking in thrift. The failing is commonly admitted, and it is by no means confined to a single class. It pervades the whole community. We may be more industrious than our neighbours, but we certainly are more extravagant. We earn strenuously, but it is in order that we may spend freely. In our choice of food and its preparation, in our dwellings, in our comforts and luxuries, and in our recreations, we are lavish as compared with other nations. There is probably no single class in this country which does not, as a rule, live nearer to the margin of its income than the corresponding class in France. The French peasant is almost the slave of his land and his family, and labours unceasingly for the one while he saves ungrudgingly for the other. Our own labourers work as hard no doubt, and probably harder, but they are much more extravagant in their habits. Their food is far more solid and expensive, and it is dressed with far less thrift and skill. The case is not very different with the classes higher in the social scale. Their industry and perseverance are unrivalled, but these virtues are too often made to do duty for prudence and economy as well. Mr. Gladstone is, no doubt, light in attributing to friendly societies an influence which tends in some degree to counteract the evil consequences of individual prodigality. They do not directly encourage a more frugal mode of life among the masses, but they develop a social feeling of common welfare which at least counteracts individual selfishness. Thus, independently of their purely economical advantages, they are by no means despicable instruments of political and social education. But, after all, it is on the individual himself that it depends whether he shall be thrifty, and get on in the world, or shall be careless, and indolent, and extravagant, and finally sink down to the bottom, a burden to the rest of the community. “The way to wealth,” says an old writer, “is as plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two plain words—industry and frugality; that is, waste neither time nor money, but make the best use of both.”