City Crimes, or Life in New York and Boston
Yes! My wealth shall be employed for a nobler object than to pamper these false and hollow-hearted parasites. From this night, I devote my time, energies, and affluence to the relief of deserving poverty and the welfare of all who need my aid with whom I may come in contact. I will go in person to the squalid abodes of the poor—I will seek them out in the dark alleys and obscure lanes of this mighty metropolis—I will, in the holy mission of charity, venture into the vilest dens of sin and iniquity, fearing no danger, and shrinking not from the duty which I have assumed.—Thus shall my wealth be a blessing to my fellow creatures, and not merely a means of ministering to my selfishness.’
Noble resolve! All honour to thy good and generous heart, Frank Sydney! Thou hast the patent of nature’s nobility, which elevates and ennobles thee, more than a thousand vain titles or empty honours! Thou wilt keep thy word and become the poor man’s friend—the liberal and enlightened philanthropist—the advocate of deserving poverty and foe to the oppressor, who sets his heel upon the neck of his brother man.
The friends to sup with him arrived, and they all sat down to a sumptuous entertainment. Frank did the honours with his accustomed friendliness and care, and flowing bumpers were drunk to his health while the most flattering eulogiums upon his merits and excellent qualities passed from lip to lip. Frank had sufficient discernment to perceive that all this praise was nothing but the ebullitions of the veriest sycophants, and he resolved at some time to test the sincerity of their protestations of eternal friendship.
‘Allow me, gentlemen,’ said Mr Archibald Slinkey, a red-faced, elderly man with a nose like the beak of a poll parrot—’ to propose the health of my excellent and highly esteemed friend, Frank Sydney. Gentlemen, I am a plain man, unused to flattery, and may be pardoned for speaking openly before the face of our friend—for I will say it, he is the most noble-hearted, enlightened, conscientious, consistent, and superlatively good fellow I ever met in the course of my existence.’
‘So he is,’ echoed Mr. Narcissus Nobbs, a middle-aged gentleman, with no nose to speak of but possessing a redundancy of chin and an excellent capacity of mouth—’ so he is, Slinkey; his position—his earning—his talent—his wealth—’
‘Oh, d——n his wealth,’ ejaculated Mr Solomon Jenks, a young gentleman who sounded charmingly frank and abrupt in his speech but was, in reality, the most specious flatterer of the entire party.
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George Thompson
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