In the mean while he came to me, and told me the same story. Eleven o’clock—is it possible? But why did you not call me when you got up? And how comes it to be so dark? Does it rain? That signifies nothing, he replied, it will soon clear up. Come, make haste, I want to go to Dr. Bartlett. Well, you would have laughed to have seen our astonishment, when Emilia and I found it was but five o’clock. And we were very glad we had a pleasant walk, and the following conversation. CHARLES. See there, our John and his son, already busy at their work. DR. BARTLETT. They rise with the sun, and begin their daily labour. CHARLES. Those people are certainly very laborious, and labour for little profit. I pity them, their situation is hard. DR. BARTLETT. Why, that little profit is sufficient to purchase content, if they are not vicious. EMILIA. But it is tiresome to be obliged to work from morning till night. All good men ought to be rich, I think. DR. BARTLETT. It would quite alter the nature of things. The strong and the weak must then dig their own ground; and the ingenious would want a spur to assist the stupid. We must all make our own clothes; manufactures and arts would be no more—industry would languish, and life not only lose its principal charms, but cease to be a probationary state, a field to exercise virtue in, and exert benevolence. WILLIAM. That is true, Sir.—But may I ask you something? Does it not look as if God, who has appointed men to work, had less love for them than the rich? DR. BARTLETT. Certainly not. God has an equal love for all, William, that are virtuous. A labourer in his low station, and in his poor cottage, is often happier than those who are exalted to high offices, and reside in noble palaces. EMILIA. The rich have servants to wait on them, while the poor labourer must continually work for his bread. DR. BARTLETT. They who serve themselves, are best served, my love, and labour is healthful. EMILIA. What a slender table is provided for the poor man—and how hard is his bed! DR. BARTLETT. It is so—and notwithstanding this, the poor eat their slender meal with a better relish, than the great have for the rarest delicacies of their tables. And they sleep sounder on their flock-beds than the rich on beds of down. Happiness consists in being satisfied—that is the greatest riches on earth. EMILIA. You make me easy, Sir. I understand it—God loves those men, and cares for them as well as the rich. DR. BARTLETT.