Life, 1911-06-08 · page 37 of 44
Life — June 8, 1911 — page 37: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page primarily contains a lengthy narrative poem titled "The Hypocrite," illustrated with a circular vignette image. The poem satirizes a wealthy philanthropist who dies and discovers his good works don't guarantee heavenly reward. **The satire's point:** A rich man boasts of his charitable donations—money to God, hospitals, libraries, and poor children—and believes he's secured a place in Heaven. However, Satan reveals the hypocrisy: while the man gave money, he ignored the brutal working conditions of factory women earning "a few wretched pence a day." His philanthropy was performative; he attended church regularly for social standing ("Patron of the Poor") but remained indifferent to actual human suffering. **The message for modern readers:** This critiques how wealthy individuals can maintain a public image of generosity while ignoring systemic exploitation. The "free-will" donations serve reputation rather than genuine moral commitment. It's a Victorian-era complaint about how charity can mask complicity in social injustice—particularly regarding working-class women's exploitation. The surrounding advertisements for automobiles and luggage are typical period filler.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
AIRES The Hypocrite One night in Portman Square there A man of riches, fame and pride He headed many a “ free-will” 1 “Death of the Great Philanthrop The newsboys cried, and people s “ What shall we do now he is de Lut they dreamt not—how could they tell ?— had they known it, their surprise Were less than glistened in the eyes vols president's opinion of you fe valu ble; Of the rich man himself when he buy_a motor car he will think bower of ay Awoke to kis catastrophe. | Paar . jites fl ou need fn a motor car—for $385. He-aiked of Satan: "Sif, How'sitita? Living Loveliness jie knows that the Motorecte is as well built asa | They bocked me for the Realms of i is not for “joy riding’ or speeding, Lliss! In beauty of face, what appeals ness and pleasure purposes. I paid to God a million pounds; . 7 Motorette yourself. T opened seereation ee most directly and most intensely Guaranteed for one year Endowed of hospitals a score, to our admiration is the beauty sie Find tout how, by simplicity ot Of public libraries still more; eC are anie to sell this sterling quality Motor- And, out of my unfathomed pity, which glows and beams with life faeat such a low price, Took poor slum children from the city and animation—in a word, the ' _W. Kelsey Mfg. Co. Twice every year, and gave them buns : The C 192 Morgan Street 8 Where the shy Thames by Richmond beauty that is natural. Hartford, Conn., U. S. A. runs A chief element in the realiza- And when the Sabbath morn came round tion of such beauty is a dainty In church I always might be found— complexion, and the greatest I dropped my sovereign in the plat Crouch & Jdeonned wy sotersien . what is more, I ne'er was late. |]| aid toa lovely complexion is They called me ‘Patron of the Poor,’ 1 thought my seat in Heaven secure.” ° And Satan said: “Now tell me, friend, 9 154 Fifth Avenue Of that foul factory near Mile i N.W. Cor, 20th St, Where, in unmit c 7 Deep as the sha {7 croadway 723 Sixth Avenue, N.Y. Weak women stitched their sight abere Cortlandt Deow Forty-fecond For a few wretched pence a ¢ Innks, Bags and Cases) W' 2"rc mam avmate | Soap There was a moment's awful hush; The wealthy ma 1d only blush 2 F rye Sener Sas coWld (ply Sit This is such a universally accepted Then Satan spake again: “ Come, sit Fay Methuselah’s Mistake Upon my right; a hypocrite truth as to be almost proverbial. The A Norwalk correspondent intimates Is of all souls most welcor ere: most beautiful women of the last ' Myself of ae peer be thinks Methiaselah wade: 8 ie rset “ a iealianl ~ hundred and twenty years have in not learning to swim. © é id, my lesser ang : 7 ; ; s the coreapandent remarks, to Sit you, my friend, at my declarcd it to be matchless for the opped out of sight after the rt Tnomas in The New « complexion. Being all pure soap, and the mournful inference—our The Horror of It possessing special emollient properties correspondent’s mournful inference—is I 7 aut: p Rocers: O ank of eposit has hat soften, refine and beautify the lat the igh water got bi Rocers: Our bank of Ceposit ba that ’ y veland Plain Dealer stopped payment skin, it is indisputably Rocers: Oh, John! And I have three of those lovely blank checks which Will bavete belwanted--Harper's Bacon The Beauty Soap Tite ‘mixture’ of religious’ cant and of the World business is at times a wee bit nauseating, but there is one man alive who put his foot down. “T think I'd suit, sir,” observed the meek applicant for the berth. “I've got nendation from my clergyman For Steamer Voyagers, Train {il That is very good, indeed,” inter- Travel and Country Homes. | rupted the other, “excellent. As I Delivered to c 1 pointe: shan't need you on Sundays, however I'd prefer a reference from somebod who can vouch for you during the week."—Sporting Times, make Perfumes ard manne aeese =| (Houbigant-Paris 272. In Every Store Quality Only. 137