“Oh yet,” continued Albany, turning towards Cecilia, “preach not here the hardness which ye practice; rather amend yourselves than corrupt her; and give with liberality what ye ought to receive with gratitude!”
“This is not my doctrine,” cried Hobson; “I am not a near man, neither, but as to giving at that rate, it's quite out of character. I have as good a right to my own savings, as to my own gettings; and what I say is this, who'll give to me? let me see that, and it's quite another thing: and begin who will, I'll be bound to go on with him, pound for pound, or pence for pence. But as to giving to them beggars, it's what I don't approve; I pay the poor's rate, and that's what I call charity enough for any man. But for the matter of living well, and spending one's money handsomely, and having one's comforts about one, why it's a thing of another nature, and I can say this for myself, and that is, I never grudged myself any thing in my life. I always made myself agreeable, and lived on the best. That's my way.”
“Bad way too,” cried Briggs, “never get on with it, never see beyond your nose; won't be worth a plum while your head wags!” then, taking Cecilia apart, “hark'ee, my duck,” he added, pointing to Albany, “who is that Mr Bounce, eh? what is he?”
“I have known him but a short time, Sir; but I think of him very highly.”
“Is he a good man? that's the point, is he a good man?”
“Indeed he appears to me uncommonly benevolent and charitable.”
“But that i'n't the thing; is he warm? that's the point, is he warm?”
“If you mean passionate,” said Cecilia, “I believe the energy of his manner is merely to enforce what he says.”
“Don't take me, don't take me,” cried he, impatiently; “can come down with the ready, that's the matter; can chink the little gold boys? eh?”
“Why I rather fear not by his appearance; but I know nothing of his affairs.”