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 From Ecclesiasticus

A merchant shall hardly keep himself from wrong-doing; and a huckster shall not be acquitted of sin.

Past and Present

(See pages 31, 74, 133)

What is it, if you pierce through his Cants, his oft-repeated Hearsays, what he calls his Worships and so forth,—what is it that the modern English soul does, in very truth, dread infinitely, and contemplate with entire despair? What is his Hell, after all these reputable, oft-repeated Hearsays, what is it? With hesitation, with astonishment, I pronounce it to be: The terror of "Not succeeding"; of not making money, fame, or some other figure in the world,—chiefly of not making money! Is not that a somewhat singular Hell?

Dipsychus

(English poet and scholar, friend of Tennyson and Matthew Arnold, 1819-1861)

As I sat at the café, I said to myself, They may talk as they please about what they call pelf, They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,