That we do not think of, we are apt to despise, as you observe, the useful work of such coarse hands, which we could not do without; and admire the embroidery the ladies work merely for ornament. And why? Because the soft fingers of the ladies do their work in elegant rooms, and the poor labour in huts. WILLIAM. And yet, according to our reasoning last night, the poor woman who works to earn her bread, or clothe her children, is a much more respectable member of society, than the lady who employs herself about work which can only procure her praise. CHARLES. Barren praise, my dear William, for Dr. Bartlett has said, that it is very dangerous to allow ourselves to be pleased with any commendation, which is not bestowed on our virtue. But I have seen some ladies, who neglected their children to prepare ornaments for their persons. And when they had them on they looked like dolls; I could not respect them as I respect the old woman. WILLIAM. I will never complain of the cold again, but rather encounter it, that I may be put in mind of the distresses the poor have to struggle with. Had you turned back when I complained, this poor old soul would have lost the comfortable fire you have procured her this winter. We went to bed, slept soundly, and set off in good spirits, after hearing from Harry that he had passed a better night. I will now conclude this long letter; but first let me tell you, we are to visit some manufactories soon, to learn to value the labours of the poor, and the useful employments of life. WILLIAM. LETTER LI. WILLIAM to his MOTHER. I mentioned to you that I expected to see some manufactories; yesterday Dr. Bartlett conducted us all, except Edward, who is gone for a short time to visit a relation, to several; and our curiosity was fully satisfied. I had seen some formerly, but without taking much notice of them: I viewed them all as something very common and rather mean; the case is altered now, I am taught to reason about them, and to admire the goodness of God displayed in the ingenuity of man. O, my dear mother, how wonderful are the ways of Providence! I must repeat an observation of Dr. Bartlett’s before I relate a conversation which passed between Emilia, Charles, and I, after we returned home.