Robert Montgomery Bird, Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself…
“ It is as the bulldog that one feedeth with beef and other wholesome viands, who, the moment he has done his dinner, snaps, for his dessert, at the feeder's heel. It is as the tender flowers, which, in the winter-time, a man taketh from the cold, to warm, by night, in his chamber, and which smother him with foul air before morning. Verily, it was my lot to find, even as my nephew Jonathan had once foolishly contended, that even philanthropy is not secure from the sting of unthankfulness—that benevolence is, in one sense, the great parent of ingratitude—since it begets it. ”
