Oh! had he been a _poor_ man, he would have been a _great_ man. He was not obliged to toil, either physically or mentally; and indolence is born of luxury, and morbid sensibility luxuriates in the lap of indolence. Forms of beauty and grandeur wait in the marble quarry for the hand of genius and skill. Ingots of gold sleep in the mine, till the explorer fathoms its depths and brings to light the hidden treasures. Labor is the slave of the lamp of life, who alone keeps its flame from waxing dim. When a child, I looked upon poverty as man's greatest curse; but I now thought differently. To feel that every wish is gratified, every want supplied, is almost as dreary as to indulge the wish, and experience the want, without the means of satisfying the cravings of one or the urgency of the other. Had Ernest been a poor man, he would not have had time to think unceasingly of me. His mind would have been occupied with sterner thoughts and more exalted cares. But rich as he was, I longed to see him live for something nobler than personal enjoyment, to know that he possessed a higher aim than love for me. I did not feel worthy to fill the capacities of that noble heart. I wanted him to love me less, that I might have something more to desire. "Of what are you thinking so deeply, sweet wife?" he asked, when I had been unconsciously indulging in a long, deep reverie. "What great subject knits so severely that fair young brow?" he repeated, sitting by me, and taking my hand in his. I blushed, for my thoughts were making bold excursions. "I was thinking," I answered, looking bravely in his face, "what a blessed thing it must be to do good, to have the will as well as the power to bless mankind." "Tell me what scheme of benevolence my little philanthropist is forming. What mighty engine would she set in motion to benefit her species?" "I was thinking how happy a person must feel, who was able to establish an asylum for the blind or the insane, a hospital for the sick, or a home for the orphan. I was thinking how delightful it would be to go out into the byways of poverty, the abodes of sickness and want, and bid their inmates follow me, where comfort and ease and plenty awaited them. I was thinking, if I were a man, how I would love to be called the friend and benefactor of mankind; but, being a woman, how proud and happy I should be to follow in the footsteps of such a good and glorious being, and hear the blessings bestowed upon his name." I spoke with earnestness, and my cheeks glowed with enthusiasm. I felt the clasp of his hand tighten as he drew me closer to his side. "You have been thinking," he said, in his peculiarly grave, melodious accents, "that I am leading a self-indulging, too luxurious life?"