'All men are fortune-hunters, are they not?
The law, the church, the court, the camp--see how they are all crowded with fortune-hunters, jostling each other in the pursuit.

The stock-exchange, the pulpit, the counting-house, the royal drawing-room, the senate,--what but fortune-hunters are they filled with?
A fortune-hunter! Yes.

You ARE one; and you would be nothing else, my dear Ned, if you were the greatest courtier, lawyer, legislator, prelate, or merchant, in existence.

If you are squeamish and moral, Ned, console yourself with the reflection that at the very worst your fortune-hunting can make but one person miserable or unhappy.

How many people do you suppose these other kinds of huntsmen crush in following their sport--hundreds at a step?
Or thousands ?' The young man leant his head upon his hand, and made no answer.
'I am quite charmed,' said the father rising, and walking slowly to and fro--stopping now and then to glance at himself in the mirror, or survey a picture through his glass, with the air of a connoisseur, 'that we have had this conversation, Ned, unpromising as it was.