content, which the unthinking never can know."
"I once," replied the younger Henry, "considered poverty a curse—but after

my thoughts became enlarged, and I had associated for years with the rich, and now mix with the poor, my opinion has undergone a total change—for I have seen, and have enjoyed, more real pleasure at work with my fellow labourers, and in this cottage, than ever I beheld, or experienced, during my abode at my uncle's; during all my intercourse with the fashionable, and the powerful of this world."
"The worst is," said Rebecca, "the poor have not always enough."
"Who has enough?" asked her husband. "Had my uncle? No—he hoped for more—and in all his writings sacrificed his duty to his avarice. Had his son enough, when he yielded up his honour, his domestic peace, to gratify his ambition? Had Lady Bendham enough when she staked all she had, in the hope of becoming richer? Were we, my Rebecca, of discontented minds, we have now too little. But conscious, from observation and experience, that the rich are not so happy as ourselves, we rejoice in our lot."

The tear of joy that stole from her eye, expressed more than his words—a state of happiness.
He continued, "I remember, that when I first came a boy to England, the poor excited my compassion; but now that my judgment is matured, I pity the rich. I know that in this opulent kingdom, there are near as many persons perishing through intemperance, as starving with hunger—there are as many miserable in the lassitude of having nothing to do, as there are, bowed down to the earth with hard labour—there are more persons who draw upon themselves calamity by following their own will, than there are, who experience it by obeying the will of another. Add to this, the rich fear dying, so much, they have no comfort in living."
"There the poor have another advantage," said Rebecca: "for they may defy not only death, but every loss by sea or land, for they have nothing to lose."
"Besides," added the elder Henry, "there is a certain joy, of the most gratifying kind that the human mind is capable

of tasting, peculiar to the poor; and of which the rich can but seldom experience the delight."
"What can that be?" cried Rebecca.
"A kind word, a benevolent smile, one token of esteem from the person