while the poor man only knew him as an unrelenting persecutor; with the
good, and they were chiefly of the fairer, softer sex, he walked in
meekness, the spiritual hypocrite; the while, it was his boast to
over-reach the worst in low duplicity and crooked dealing. All this he
was for gold. When the eye of the world was on him, and intuition warned
him of the times, he was ever the serene, the correct, with a smooth
tongue and an oily smile; but in the privacy of some poor hovel, where
his debtor sued for indulgence, or some victim of his passions (he had
more depravities than one) threw her wretched self upon his pity, then
could Simon Jennings lash sternness into rage, and heat his brazen heart
with the embers of inveterate malice. It was as if the serpent, that
voluble, insinuating reptile, which had power to fascinate poor Eve,
turned to rend her when she had fallen, erect, with flashing eyes, and
bristling crest, with venomed fangs, and hissing. Behold,
snake-worshippers of Mexico, the prototype of your grim idol, in
Mammon's model slave and specimen disciple!

Such a man was Simon Jennings, a soul given up to gold--exclusively to
gold; for although, as we have hinted, and as hereafter may appear, he
could sell himself at times to other sins, still these were but as stars
in his evil firmament, while covetousness ruled it like the sun; or, if
the beauteous stars and blessed sun be an image too hallowed for his
wickedness, we may find a fitter in some stagnant pool, where the
pestilential vapour over all is Mammonism, and the dull, fat weeds that
rot beneath, are pride, craftiness, and lechery. In fact, to speak of
passions in a heart such as his, were a palpable misnomer; all was
reduced to calculation; his rage was fostered to intimidate, and where
the wretch seemed kinder, his kindnesses were aimed at power, as an
object, rather than at pleasure--the power to obtain more gold.