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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

Stanislaus which the
count wore on his breast. "In the meanwhile," said he, "my pretty
friend," stooping to the child, "let this bit of silver," was just
mounting to his tongue, as he put his hand into his pocket to take
out half-a-crown; but he recollected that his necessities would no
longer admit of such gifts, and drawing his hand back with a deep and
bitter sigh, he touched the boy's cheek with his lips, and added,
"let this kiss remind you of your new friend."
This was the first time the generous spirit of Sobieski had been
restrained; and he suffered a pang, for the poignancy of which he
could not account. His had been a life accustomed to acts of
munificence. His grandfather's palace was the asylum of the unhappy--
his grandfather's purse a treasury for the unfortunate. The soul of
Thaddeus did not degenerate from his noble relative: his generosity,
begun in inclination, was nurtured by reflection, and strengthened
with a daily exercise which had rendered it a habit of his nature.
Want never appeared before him without exciting a sympathetic emotion
in his heart, which never rested until he had administered every
comfort in the power of wealth to bestow. His compassion and his
purse were the substance and shadow of each other. The poor of his
country thronged from every part of the kingdom to receive pity and
relief at his hands.


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