Riches and happiness have no necessary connection with each other.  In some cases it might be said that happiness is in the inverse proportion to riches.  The happiest part of most men’s lives is while they are battling with poverty, and gradually raising themselves above it.  It is then that they deny themselves for the sake of others,—­that they save from their earnings to secure a future independence,—­that they cultivate their minds while labouring for their daily bread,—­that they endeavour to render themselves wiser and better—­happier in their homes and more useful to society at large.  William Chambers, the Edinburgh publisher, speaking of the labours of his early years, says, “I look back to those times with great pleasure, and I am almost sorry that I have not to go through the same experience again; for I reaped more pleasure when I had not a sixpence in my pocket, studying in a garret in Edinburgh, than I now find when sitting amidst all the elegancies and comforts of a parlour.”

There are compensations in every condition of life.  The difference in the lot of the rich and the poor is not so great as is generally imagined.  The rich man has often to pay a heavy price for his privileges.  He is anxious about his possessions.  He may be the victim of extortion.  He is apt to be cheated.  He is the mark for every man’s shaft.  He is surrounded by a host of clients, till his purse bleeds at every pore.  As they say in Yorkshire when people become rich, the money soon “broddles through.”  Or, if engaged in speculation, the rich man’s wealth may fly away at any moment.  He may try again, and then wear his heart out in speculating on the “chances of the market.” Insomnia is a rich man’s disease.  The thought of his winnings and losings keeps him sleepless.  He is awake by day, and awake by night.  “Riches on the brain” is full of restlessness and agony.

The rich man over-eats or over-drinks; and he has gout.  Imagine a man with a vice fitted to his toe.  Let the vice descend upon the joint, and be firmly screwed down.  Screw it again.  He is in agony.  Then suddenly turn the screw tighter—­down, down!  That is gout!  Gout—­of which Sydenham has said, that “unlike any other disease, it kills more rich men than poor, more wise than simple.  Great kings, emperors, generals, admirals, and philosophers, have died of gout.  Hereby nature shows her impartiality, since those whom she favours in one way, she afflicts in another Or, the rich man may become satiated with food, and lose his appetite; while the poor man relishes and digests anything.  A beggar asked alms of a rich man “because he was hungry.”  “Hungry?” said the millionaire; “how I envy you!” Abernethy’s prescription to the rich man was, “Live upon a shilling a day, and earn it!” When the Duke of York consulted him about his health, Abernethy’s answer was, “Cut off the supplies, and the enemy will soon leave the citadel.”  The labourer who feels little and thinks less, has the digestion of an ostrich; while the non-worker is never allowed to forget that he has a stomach, and is obliged to watch every mouthful that he eats.  Industry and indigestion are two things seldom found united.