d pudding, with their glass of wine, every day.
The Greys little knew what a blessing they were conferring on their
cousins, when they insisted on having them for a long day once more
before Hester's confinement, and set them down to steaming soup, and a
plentiful joint, and accompaniments without stint. The guests laughed,
when they were at home again, over the new sort of pleasure they had
felt, the delight at the sight of a good dinner, to which nothing was
wanting but that Morris should have had her share. Morris, for her
part, had been very happy at home. She had put aside for her mistress's
luncheon next day, the broth which she had been told was for her, and
had feasted on potatoes and water, and the idea of the good dinner her
young ladies were to enjoy. While their affairs were in this state, it
was a great luxury in the family to have any unusual comfort which
betokened that Hope had been successful in some of his errands,--had
received a fee, or recovered the amount of a bill. One day, Morris
brought in a goose and giblets, which had been bought and paid for by
Mr Hope, the messenger said. Another morning, came a sack of apples,
from the orchard of a country patient who was willing to pay in kind.
At another time Edward emptied his pockets of knitted worsted stockings
and mittens, the handiwork of a farmer's dame, who was flattered by his
taking the produce of her evening industry instead of money, which she
could not well spare at the present season. There was more mirth, more
real gladness in the house, on the arrival of windfalls like these, than
if Hope had daily exhibited a purse full of gold. There was no sting in
their poverty; no adventitious misery belonging to it. They suffered
its genuine force, and that was all.

What is Poverty? Not destitution, but poverty? It has many shapes,--
aspects almost as various as the minds and circumstances of those whom
it visits. It is famine to the savage in the wilds; it is hardship to
the labourer in the cottage; it is disgrace to the proud; and to the
miser despair. It is a spectre which "with dread of change perplexes"
him who lives at ease. Such are its aspects: but what is it? It is a
deficiency of the comforts of life,--a deficiency present and to come.
It involves many other things; but this is what it is. Is it then worth
all the apprehension and grief it occasions? Is it an adequate cause
for the gloom of the merchant, the discontent of th