It is not our business to animadvert upon these lines; we are not
critics, but historians. It is sufficient for us that they are the words
of Mr. Fitzwarren; and though it is beside our purpose, and perhaps not
in our power to prove him a good poet, we shall soon convince the reader
that he was a good man, which was a much better character; for when
some, who were present, told him that this treasure was too much for
such a poor boy as Whittington, he said, "God forbid that I should
deprive him or a penny; it is his own, and he shall have it to a
farthing." He then ordered Mr. Whittington in, who was at this time
cleaning the kitchen, and would have excused himself from going into the
compting-house, saying, the room was rubbed, and his shoes were dirty
and full of hob-nails. The merchant, however, made him come in, and
ordered a chair to be set for him. Upon which, thinking they intended to
make sport of him, as had been too often the case in the kitchen, he
besought his master not to mock a poor simple fellow, who intended them
no harm, but let him go about his business. The merchant, taking him by
the hand, said, "Indeed, Mr. Whittington, I am in earnest with you, and
sent for you to congratulate you on your great success. Your cat has
procured you more money than I am worth in the world, and may you long
enjoy it and be happy."

At length, being shown the treasure, and convinced by them that all of
it belonged to him, he fell upon his knees and thanked the Almighty for
his providential care of such a poor and miserable creature. He then
laid all the treasure at his master's feet, who refused to take any part
of it, but told him he heartily rejoiced at his prosperity, and hoped
the wealth he had acquired would be a comfort to him, and would make him
happy. He then applied to his mistress, and to his good friend Miss
Alice, who refused to take any part of the money, but told him she
heartily rejoiced at his good success, and wished him all imaginable