Part 11 (2/2)
CHARITABLE IMPOSTORS
Men and women are always to be found in the City, seeking aid for some charitable inst.i.tution. They carry books and pencils, in which each donor is requested to inscribe his name and the amount given. Small favors are thankfully received, and they depart, a.s.suring you in the most humble and sanctified manner that ”the Lord loveth a cheerful giver.” If you cannot give to-day, they are willing to call to-morrow, next week--any time that may suit your convenience. You cannot insult them, for like Uriah Heep, they are always ”so 'umble.” You find it hard to suspect them, but in truth, they are the most genuine impostors to be met with in the City. They are soliciting money for themselves alone, and have no connection with any charitable inst.i.tution whatever.
OTHER IMPOSTORS.
One-armed, or one-legged beggars, whose missing member, sound as your own, is strapped to their bodies so as to be safely out of sight, women wis.h.i.+ng to bury their husbands or children, women with borrowed or hired babies, and sundry other objects calculated to excite your pity, meet you at every step. They are vagabonds. G.o.d knows there is misery enough in this great City, but nine out of ten of these people are impostors. If you give them money it will go for drink.
A FAs.h.i.+ONABLE IMPOSTOR.
A well known banker, who acted as agent for one of the numerous charitable a.s.sociations of this city, was called upon one day by a lady of great elegance, who said she had come at the instance of Mrs.----, naming one of the lady managers of the a.s.sociation, to ask for one hundred dollars, for which she had immediate need. As the lady referred to had never drawn on him for money, except by means of a regular cheque, the banker suspected that something was wrong, and informed his visitor that it would not be convenient for him to let her have the amount just then, and asked her to call the next day. She departed, and the next morning was punctual to her engagement. Meanwhile, the banker had ascertained from the lady manager that the request made of him was an imposture. He was not in when his visitor called the second time, but his son met the lady, and, as he knew her, expressed his surprise at seeing her there. Overwhelmed with confusion, she took her departure, saying she would come back when the banker returned. She did not make her appearance, and the son, in mentioning her visit to his father, was informed of its object. It was agreed to pa.s.s the matter over in silence, and a note to that effect was dispatched by the young man to the lady--she replied, thanking him for his silence, she said she was in need of money, and did not wish her husband to know it, and hoped to raise it in such a manner, and return it before the imposture should be discovered. She was a woman of good social position, and the wife of a wealthy citizen.
CHAPTER XV.
SUNDAY IN NEW YORK.
Strangers have observed with surprise the quietness which reigns within the city limits on the Sabbath day. The streets have a cleaner, fresher look, and with the exception of the Bowery and Chatham street, are closed to trade. The wharves are hushed and still, and the river and bay lie calm and subdued in the light of the Sabbath sun. Everybody seems trying to look as neat and as clean as possible. The cars run on Sunday, as in the week. This is necessary in so large a city, as without them many persons would be unable to attend church, their houses being miles away from their places of wors.h.i.+p.
CHURCH GOING.
In the morning, the various churches are well filled, for New Yorkers consider it a matter of principle to attend morning service. The streets are filled with persons hastening to church, the cars are crowded, and handsome carriages dash by, conveying their wealthy owners to their only hour of prayer.
The churches are nearly all above Bleecker street. Trinity, St. Paul's, the old Dutch Church in Fulton street, and a few seamen's bethels along the river, are the only places of wors.h.i.+p left to the dwellers in the lower part of the city, who are chiefly the poor and needy. Little or no care is taken of this part of the population, and yet it would seem good missionary ground. Trinity tries hard to draw them into its fold, but no one else seems to care for them.
The up-town churches are well filled in the morning. The music, the fame of the preacher, the rank of the church in the fas.h.i.+onable world, all these things help to swell the congregation. They are generally magnificent edifices, erected with great taste, and at a great cost.
They crowd into fas.h.i.+onable neighborhoods, being often located so close to each other that the music of one will disturb the prayers of the congregation of the other. The plea for this is that the old down town locations were out of the way for the majority of the congregations.
Many of the new sites, however, are quite as hard to reach. The pews rent for sums far beyond the purses of persons of moderate means, so that the majority of New Yorkers are compelled to roam about, from church to church, in order to hear the gospel at all. At the majority of the churches, strangers are welcome, and are received with courtesy, but at others they are treated with the utmost rudeness if they happen to get into some upstart's pew, and are not unfrequently asked to give up their seats.
There are intellectual giants in the New York pulpit, but they are very few. The majority of the clergy are men of little intellect, and less oratorical power. They are popular, though, with their own cures, and the most of them are well provided for. They doubtless understand how to
”Preach to please the sinners, And fill the vacant pews.”
SUNDAY AFTERNOON.
Morning service over, an early dinner follows. Then everybody thinks of enjoying himself if the weather is fine, or of sleeping the afternoon away if the day is too wet to go out. The cars are filled with persons _en route_ for the Park to pa.s.s a pleasant afternoon--the drives of that beautiful resort are filled with the elegant equipages of the fas.h.i.+onables, and the churches are comparatively deserted. Almost every livery hack, buggy, or other vehicle in the city, is engaged for Sunday, several days beforehand, and the poor horses have no mercy shown them on that day.
The low cla.s.s theatres and places of amus.e.m.e.nt in the Bowery and adjacent streets are opened toward sunset, and vice reigns there triumphant. The Bowery beer gardens sell lemonade and soda water, and such beverages as are not prohibited by the excise law, and the orchestra and orchestrions play music from the ritual of the Roman Catholic church.
The excise law forbids the sale of spirituous or malt liquors on the Sabbath, and the bar rooms are closed from midnight on Sat.u.r.day until Monday morning. The police have orders to arrest all persons violating this law. There is no doubt, however, that liquor can be obtained by those who are willing to incur the risk necessary to get it; but as the majority do not care to take this trouble, the North river ferries are thronged on Sunday, by persons going over to New Jersey for their beer, wine, and stronger drinks. There is no Sunday law in that State, and Jersey City and Hoboken are only five minutes distant from New York.
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