schools provided for your children, where no distinctions of creed or catechism interfere; you have pure air to breathe and pure water to drink; you are politically equal to us all; therefore, and for your good we say, be economical, be prudent in your outgoings, spend not all to-day, but put by something for the to-morrow of your age,for, as poor Richard says, A Penny in the Purse is a Friend at Court."

THE LEGEND OF THE FISH AND THE RING.

In the east wall of the parish church of Stepney-that oldest of suburbs-there formerly existed a monument which was wont to attract considerable attention from the loiterers among the tombs on both Sundays and workdays. On an oval marble slab inserted in the wall, was a coat of arms which, in the language of heraldry, may be thus described :-Urn, volutes, a cherub, and palm branches, surrounding the coat proper, which consisted of" five paly of six or and azure on a bend sable, three mullets of the first impaled with azure, an amulet and fish between two bends, wavy argent." That is to say, three fishes and a ring, surrounded by palm branches, &c. The following inscription is copied exactly from the monument :

"Here lyeth interred the body of Dame Rebecca Berry, the wife of Thomas Elton, of Stratford, Bow, Gent. who departed this life April 26th, 1693, aged 52.

"Come, Ladies, you that would appear,

Like Angels fair, come dress you here;
Come, dress you at this Marble Stone,
And make that humble grace your own;
Which once adorned, as fair a mind
As ere yet lodg'd in Woman kind.
So she was dress'd; whose humble Life
Was free from Pride, was free from Strife,
Free from all envious Brawls and Jars
(Of Human Life, the Civil Wars).
These ne'er disturb'd her peaceful Mind
Which still was gentle, still was kind.
Her very looks, her Garb, her Mien,
Disclosed the humble Soul within.
Trace her through every scene of Life-
View her as Widow, Virgin, Wife.

Still the same humble She appears

The same in Youth, the same in Years.

The same in Low and High Estate;

Ne're vex'd with this, ne're mov'd with that.
Go, Ladies, now, and if you'd be

As Fair, as Great, as Good as She;
Go learn of her Humility."

And so those who stood and read this inscription, and they were many, would relate to each other the following legend, which is devoutly believed even in this nineteenth century by the ignorant and the credulous. It is called The Cruel Knight and the fortunate Farmer's Daughter."

A knight happening to pass by a cottage hears the cry of a woman in labour. His knowledge of the occult sciences informs him that the child then being brought into the world is destined to be his wife. He endeavours to clude his fate, and avoid so ignoble an alliance by various attempts to destroy the child; but all his hopes are frustrated, and the child lives and thrives. In spite of all his endeavours to conceal his whereabouts, the young child is constantly brought into contact with him. The little girl grows up to be a fair and beautiful woman, but the knight relents not; and one day takes her to the seaside, intending to drown her. Her beauty and innoeence, however, prevail, and he saves her life. But upon one condition only taking from his finger a ring, he casts it into the sea, and vows that she shall never become his wife till she produces it again. Years pass away. The knight forgets the maiden, and the maiden, mourning her sad fate, takes menial service in the house of a neighbouring gentleman. One day, while she is dressing a salmon for the family dinner, oh, lucky chance!

she finds the ring. She tells her story to her mistress, who forthwith tells it to her lord. The news spreads, and the knight, now grown old and gentle, comes to claim the maiden as his bride; and the joy bells of old Stepney Church ring out their marriage peal on the following Sunday. They live together happily, and when she dies, the knight puts up this monument to commemorate her many virtues.

This is the legend. And is it not a pity that so pretty a story should be altogether without foundation? The truth is, that the arms are those of the family of Berry, which was the name of the dame's first husband, and are identical with those borne by the Ventris family of Cambridgeshire. The story, moreover, is not even local, for it forms the subject of a Yorkshire ballad, and is to be found in that deep mine of romance and legend, the Arabian Nights' Entertainments! In the course of time, it will probably be lost altogether; for, about five years since the marble slab containing the epitaph of Dame Berry was removed from the outer wall of the church to make way for an ugly painted window, and was placed in an obscure corner in the interior of the sacred edifice, where gossips can no longer congregate.

SCRAPS.

Knowledge is treasure, but judgment is the treasury.Form is good, but not formality.-Be cautious in giving advice, and consider before you adopt advice.-A mule laden with salt, and an ass laden with wool, went over a brook together. By chance the mule's pack became wetted, the salt melted, and his burden became lighter. After they had passed the mule told his good fortune to the ass, who, thinking to speed as well, wetted his pack at the next water; but his load became the heavier, and he broke down under it. Pause, therefore, before you follow example; that which helps one man may hinder another.

Sarcasm is said, by Carlyle, to be the language of the devil. Perhaps so. Who shall contradict Carlyle? But pray, if such be so, what is scandal? Has it not an equal claim to the distinction? Shall we settle it thus,-that sarcasm is the language the devil uses to your face; scandal, that which he uses behind your back? There is a good deal of scandal at Malta: in fact, as a general rule, there is scandal in all societies where the intellectual tone is not high; and such is the case with garrison society. Where people do not talk politics, literature, or art, they naturally resort to scandal, as poverty in circumstances drives the lower orders to gin. Accordingly, Malta is scandalous Lady Ostrich, we will suppose, is travelling, and is separated from her husband. Forthwith the coteries discuss the how, the why, and the wherefore. In a week the separation has been exaggerated into a divorce, and the lady's fault from an infirmity of temper into a want of virtue. If she keeps out of society, she is ashamed to be seen; if she courts it, and appears much in public, she is trying to brazen it out. Had Paradise been in Malta, and the story of the fall been repeated, in less than a fortnight, Eve would have been made out the original tempter, and the serpent a boa-constrictor of the largest size known. And then the prying into, and loose babbling about the affairs of everybody! If a young officer is abstemious, you hear people say,-"Ah! poor fellow, he's got nothing but his pay! I wonder how he manages to rub along!" If, on the other hand, he cuts a dash, then the very people who drink his champagne say, shaking their heads, "Depend on it, we shall see the bubble burst before long!"-Hannay.

SINGING FOR THE MILLION.

IN one of those small, quiet streets,
Where Business retreats,

To shun the daily bustle and the noise
The shoppy Strand enjoys,

But Law, Joint-Companies, and Life Assurance,
Find past endurance—

In one of those back streets, to Peace so dear,
The other day, a ragged wight
Began to sing with all his might,
"I have a silent sorrow here!"

In vain were sashes closed,

And doors against the persevering Stentor, Though brick, and glass, and solid oak opposed Th' intruding voice would enter,

From room to room, from floor to floor,
From Number One to Twenty-four
The Nuisance bellow'd, till, all patience lost,
Down came Miss Frost,

Expostulating at her open door-
Peace, monster, peace!

Where is the New Police?

I vow I cannot work, or read, or pray,

Don't stand there bawling, fellow, don't! You really send my serious thoughts astray, Do-there's a dear good man-do, go away." Says he, "I won't!"

However, in she went,

Leaving the subject of her discontent To Mr. Jones's Clerk at Number Ten; Who throwing up the sash,

With accents rash,

Thus hail'd the most vociferous of men ;
"Come, come, I say, old fellow, stop your chant!
I cannot write a sentence-no one can't!

So just pack your trumps,
And stir your stumps-"
Says he, "I shan't!!"

The thing was hard to stand!

The Music-master could not stand it-
But rushing forth with fiddlestick in hand,
As savage as a bandit,

Made up directly to the tatter'd man,
And thus in broken sentences began-
Com-com-I say!

You go away!

Into two parts my head you splitMy fiddle cannot hear himself a bit,

When I do play

You have no bis'ness in a place so still! Can you not come another day ?" Says he "I will.”

"No-no-you scream and bawl!
You must not come at all!

Look what a street it is for quiet!
No cart to make a riot,

No coach, no horses, no postillion,
If you will sing, I say it is not just
To sing so loud."- Says he, "I MUST!
I'm SINGING FOR THE MILLION!"

THOS. HOOD.

A HINT TO THE AMBITIOUS.

One of the great social evils of the day, perhaps the greatest, is the wild desperation evinced by people of every class to emulate and imitate classes above them. If the man of five hundred a year gives a dinner party, he will set before his company exactly the same courses, the same dishes, and the same wines which are to be seen on the table of him who has twenty thousand a-year. He does not consult his circumstances, but the look of the thing. And so the bad practice runs on through all ranks of society, the mock aristocracy trying to vie with, indeed to outdo, the real aristocracy of the land. In point of fact, we know many a would-be-fine lady of the middle classes who would be shocked at the very thought of not having far more expensive things on their dinner tables than truly high-bred people care to see there. Thus, for instance, we have been for some months reading of the series of "princely entertainments" given to their friends by a certain noble marquis and marchioness. Mr. Bluff, of these parts, was present on one of these occasions. It is not his everyday practice to dine with a marquis. In truth, he never did dine with one before. Chance and business took him to the house on that particular day, and he was kindly and politely pressed to stay. He did so, and, what is more, sat next the marchioness, a real live, young, pretty, smiling, affable, marchioness, at dinner. As the dishes were handed round, one containing a number of small birds came in its turn. As it was before the shooting season had commenced, he was dreadfully puzzled to make out what they could be. What was he to do? He knew that Mrs. Bluff, who delights to be the first in the field of fashion, would never forgive him if he came away in ignorance and did not give her the opportunity of sending to China, Japan, or Peru for a similar dish of ornithology for her next party. Under this terrible pressure from without he had the cool effrontery to ask the marchioness whence these dainty and exquisite varieties had been procured. She smiled as she informed him that the game season not having arrived, they were merely blackbirds which the gardener had shot because they were troublesome to his fruit. Our hero was astonished at the notion that he had dined with a marquis and marchioness, and a long array of the nobility, to eat blackbirds. But, being no fool, it provided him with a text on which he has often sermonized to his ambitious wife since, namely, that it is only "stuck-up shams" who are always seeking to be finer than their neighbours and grander than their betters, while your great people take things as they come and especially take things easily. We heard this story from Bluff ourselves with great pleasure, and we are very glad to put it in print pro bono publico. We know of many families, and have heard of many more, to whom the rivalry of grandeur in their entertainments has been positively ruinous, all pocket considerations being cast aside in the anxiety and determination of Mrs. Cotton to set forth a more spendid feast than Mrs. Sugar. But let both of these ladies, and Mrs. Shortpurse and Mrs. Bareacres, also, remember the marchioness and the blackbirds. There may be great hospitality without heaped-up dishes, and true gentility does not consist in so many pounds of meat consumed in stews and gravy. So we always said. Bluff used to contradict us. But now he entirely agrees with us, and vows that he shall impress his experience on his children by teaching every one of them the old nursery jingle, "Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie."

THOSE Who think that money will do anything, may be suspected of doing anything for money.

Printed by Cox (Brothers) & WYMAN, 74-75, Great Queen Street, London'; and published by CHARLES COOK, at the Office of the Journal, 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street.

CHRONICLES OF MY OLD HALL.

CHAPTER III.-I START FOR IT.

IN a few days a letter arrived from the place I had thus singularly hired, and whose name and locality I only now knew. The letter was a distressing affair, for it was perfectly illegible; in fact, except for the way of the paper, which was old, yellow, faded, and thin, I should not have known which was the top,--the whole seemed a collection of I's, L's, M's, and N's, with a cross of crooked line in them; however, at last, by assuming a few words as a beginning, imagining more as a middle, and passing over the rest, I rose from breakfast master of the contents, and as proud of my elucidation as a Hinks or Rawlinson might feel when showers of arrows cut on marble, dissolve themselves beneath their skilful manipulation into common vernacular. The epistle ran thus:'Raynesthorpe Hall. "SIR,-My brother, whose ill-health and increasing infirmities prevent his writing to you himself, bids you most cordially welcome to the house you have taken, and begs me to express to you his perfect satisfaction at the tenant he has obtained. As you are doubtless aware, one point requires personal communication, therefore he has deputed me to remain and receive you,-the 6th of April would if possible be the most convenient day for your arrival. Wishing you every success and happiness, I remain-&c. &c.

66

"MARTHA LONEY."

No doubt this is not an exact transcript; but, depend upon it, it is just as near the original as any other copies we-the public-have laid before us.

Curious old lady! I thought, turning the letter round and round,-I wish I had not gone so far,-what can it be that requires personal communication? They want to get me down there, and then ask for a year's rent in advance; the old gentleman thinks, I suppose, I shall yield to the lady what I should refuse to him: no, though, it cannot be that; well, well, it is no use guessing-it will be all right in the end: so I kissed my wife, handed her the letter-not the translation, though-and rushed off, while she was hopelessly involved in its incomprehensibility.

The day dawned, not that I saw that part of it, but towards eleven we found ourselves at the station, and were rolling off to the country before noon: we had long been tired of the journey, when our tickets were demanded, and the carriage stopped at the capital of our

[PRICE lad.

new county. That county is without doubt the flattest in England, or might at least dispute the question with any other with a fair chance of success; by what strange coincidence is it then, that the capital city of it is as up and down, steep and hilly, as Edinburgh itself. Of all fallacies, the comforts of mine inn ever seems to me the greatest. "Take mine ease at mine inn,"-who ever did so? It is true that landlord or landlady, waiters, porters, boots, and neat maid, rush out unasked, in stereotyped smiles, to greet the new arrival, and he, she, or they are handed out with more care and ceremony, and ushered in with more deference than at home; but what of that? The landlord has a blank bill ready for you, and probably is examining your countenance to see how much you will bear written upon it. The waiter claims your pocket, the boots and maid only smile on you as they would on a shilling; then commend me to an inn sofa or easy chair (they must be manufactured expressly for inns, I am sure), or an inn book; or who ever saw a paper except the advertisement sheet ?-the rest has just been taken up.

The inn, however, our "Jehu," exercising his own discretion, deposited us at, had one great advantage-a good view. Its front windows looked on a noble old market-place, whose Flemish character reminded one how much England has gained by religious toleration, for persecuted Flemings had mainly peopled this city, and had given it its pre-eminence in manufactures. Our meal over, we drew our chairs to the window, and gazed with no small pleasure on the scene. It was market-day, and the good people kept it in a thoroughly old-fashioned way-the booths, stalls, nay, even the stores, were of an old date, quaint and rarely seen in these railway days; and in the marketing of the individuals themselves there was a sober earnestness as if it really was the business of the week. The place itself, like all the rest of that hill city of the plain, was on a rapid slope. So zealous seemed these north folk of their only mountain spot, that if ancient chroniclers tell true, the fathers of the race transported their city from the plain near where it anciently stood, and built it here, thus giving their hill to the guardianship of walls, temples, and towers, thus despising the judgment of Romans and antiquity before them. Their old camp city was deserted, and this town arose, covering, hugging, and surrounding their one highland. The place was crowded; and as eve drew on and the sunlight left, the lamps shone forth, forming an outer

rim to the scene, except three burners in the centre, which had superseded an old stone cross that formerly stood there.

Bad succession," thought I. "The cross were the better emblem." Then each stall became alight on its own account, and shone on housewives eager for bargains, maids with an eye to business but a side glance for anything; and then the moon arose and chased down those flickering lights, the crowd thinned, the stalls collapsed and disappeared, and the day was done.

As the partner of my life has a most foolish objection to smoking, although I have proved to her clearly that Nimrod did so, and probably Abram himself, où her retiring, I descended to the coffee-room, where the waiter informed me I not only might indulge my propensity, but do so lawfully and in good company. A cheerful fire, deep red with matured heat, formed there the centre of attraction for some half-dozen men, who, aroused by my entry, bolted off the remainder of their several vanities, as Mr. Weller would have said, and departed. Requesting the waiter to remove their remnants-for what more melancholy object is there than a drained glass, sad memento for an oldish roué to gaze at ?—I stretched myself into the most easy of positions, and commenced my weed.

One person alone remained besides myself, and having looked into the fire and found nothing to think of, a move on his part attracting me, I was soon deep in meditations on him. First, he had two small keen eyes, which monopolised my whole attention, for they seemed to look intently at the fire and then from the fire to look back straight at me; so, though he sat on one side of me, I became convinced he was looking me straight in the face. Well-dressed, but dirty, his clothes clung to his limbs. And thus we sat, he sounding my depth all over before the waiter left the room, which he did, having screwed the gag down to its lowest ebb of existence. I would have bet my companion could have told how many buttons I had on my waistcoat, or rings on my watchguard. My cigar went out, I relighted it, and was about throwing the lighter in the fire, when my companion reached it out of my hand, and lighted a curious meerschaum pipe with it, which he drew ready loaded from his pocket. This done, and his scrutiny of me apparently completed, he leaned back, and smoked in silence. The cloud-scattering tobacco burnt its incense, the smoke wreathed up, the fire grew redder and deeper, still we smoked.

Come to settle-eh, Sir," said a voice I could have sworn came from the fire, into which I was mistily gazing.

The question astonished, nor did it occur to me it was but a query, and put interrogatively; but I answered: Yes."

Ah, so I thought,” replied the fire. "I congratulate you, sir."

"Thank you-thank you," I replied; "but why ?" Oh, I have been settled all my life, and hating it, take rather a pleasure in seeing others do the same." "A nice philanthropic sort of fellow," I thought, upon my honour. You live near here, sir ?"

Oh, no; eight miles off. Everybody knows where Miles Loney lives, sir-pretty well known in the county -oldest family in it. Loney's an old race, sir,-I may say an original family, sir."

I looked at him, and thought so too if he was their representative; and I became sure the pipe he smoked was a family portrait-it had exactly his leer and nose, not to mention that the eyes were miracles of imitation.

"We are the true jockey Shakspere talks of. All the others nearly have been bought out by heavy-pursed estate-collectors. We just hold our own--never great,

"The devil, why ?"

"Don't say that word, pray!" And he removed his pipe, and held it to the fire.

"What! is the fellow a Yezidee? I have heard among them, in Assyria, that there are people of their sect in other lands. Perhaps it was true; and here, at dead of night, in a dark room, I was alone with a worshipper of Old Nick! He held his pipe away from him as if that contained too much of the old one, summoned at my expression.

"Well, sir; I should be sorry to use any obnoxious word, so will not repeat it."

"Pray don't-pray don't; it is bad!" and he looked at his pipe. "My pipe is done out, sir-quite out, and I will wish you a good night; and as I start early, I will add good-bye."

Now here was a vexatious brute-how could mortal behave so? I offered him a cigar by way of detainer, which he quietly took, put it into his pocket, and said he would smoke in the morning.

"Have a glass of brandy and water ?" "No thank you, sir. Good night."

I could not stand it, so told him that I was most particularly interested in old tales of old houses; that he had aroused my curiosity, as I was somewhat connected with his neighbourhood, and felt a great interest in the old house he had hinted at so darkly, and begged he would sit down and satisfy my thirst for the marvellous, adding: "I do not think you will frighten me out of living there if I ever took it into my head to do so."

Fresh cigars burnt votive incense to Father Barry, offering to Nimrod, first of smokers, mighty hunter, zodiatic Sagittarius. Thus my companion began :"That house was originally built on screws.' "Screws?" I said, for the engineering peculiarity struck me.

"Yes, sir, screws," said the old voice from the fire, for my interruptions had nettled him into resuming it. 'Screws, sir," then repeated the voice from the fire, and through the smoke. By screwing, it was built, and it has repaid the debts well. A screw built it, and the curse sticks to us. You see, sir, there are properties, as well as men, with different peculiarities. Some properties stick to families, others never do-this never stuck to any one set of people, yet the old screw who restored it--for nobody knows when it was first built-he died. They say he tried to screw death out of taking him, but that did not succeed. Well, it was sold and sold over again -pretty fun for the lawyers. My family bought it, and tried to hold it; but it would not do. Four brothers had it left amongst them by their father on condition they would live together there. So they died, sir, but they divided the house into four parts, and each had his separate staircase and entrance-door. They would have nothing in common. Four bakers, four butchers, four cows; and one bought a vicious one to kick the others. So did they hate each other, that the one who had the front door would not let them bring his brother's coffin through it, though the poor man's own door was too narrow, so they had to burst the wall out to do it. Lord, sir, the stories about that old house would fill a book. One lady drowned herself for love in the river opposite the house, another died of starvation. There is a hearse drives up every 6th of April eve to look for custom." "The D-!" I cried.

"I must go if you ever repeat that name, sir; and so good night. Haunted, sir-haunted is no name for it.

Catch a neighbour there after dark. Well, sir, good night once more. Just remember, though, as you are going to be my brother's tenant, don't let anybody you care about sleep in the Robsart room. Keep that for any person you wish to move off-any old person you have expectations from, an elder brother, or such like. It will do, it will do."

Confound the fellow, he was off, the fire out, and I had to skulk, cold and ghostified, to my room.

HOW TO GET RICH BY SPECULATION. (From Freedley's "How to Make Money.")

BY A MERCHANT OF BOSTON.

THE attributes which constitute greatness in men are bestowed reluctantly on individuals. A good poet is the pet of an age; a great general is the marvel of a century; and a profound speculator a rarer gift than either. Every science has its laws; and when we neglect laws we are in ignorance. Empiricism disappears, and quackery takes flight when we discover the law of a phenomenon. The laws of speculation are not well understood; indeed, they may in part be considered not well established. Let us attempt the labour of laying down the necessary rules which ought to govern this great art.

And here in the outset we apprise the reader that, inasmuch as one man's wisdom or experience would be a very insufficient guide in this great search for truth, which has a big bag of money at the end, we have not undertaken to rely on our own acquired skill in money-making, but have made free with the knowledge of others. The principles, the facts, the maxims, and the judgments which we design to set forth are partly original and partly compiled. Few men have written books without saying something wise on the subject of money-getting. What we have learned from divers sources respecting this matter may be reduced to the following heads :

In the first place, be it observed that successful speculation is not in general mere luck, like that of Lord Timothy Dexter, of Newburyport, when he sent the cargo of warming-pans to the West Indies, for, notwithstanding this instance of fortunate miscalculation, Dexter commonly based his speculations upon good calculation and foresight. Ignorant as he was of geography and domestic life in the tropics, he had a knowledge of human nature, and a shrewd instinct in money matters. He studied and calculated; and a fool who proceeds by study and calculation will do better than a wise man who tries to do without them.

In the second place, it must not be forgotten that there is a wide and essential difference between speculation and trade, two things which are very apt to be confounded together in theory and practice. It is true that trade and speculation meet in State Street, but they have in them nothing in common; and although the object of each is a California at home, they search for its discovery by totally different roads. The trader, properly speaking, has nothing to do with business but to stick to it; and as every business must pay, and all sorts of business in the long run are equally profitable, small gains, carefully accumulated, in time realise a fortune. You are surprised that many men fail in business; but be assured that the fault was in the bankrupt, not in the business. Trade, of necessity, must pay; and in the long run the gains must exceed the losses, otherwise there could be no trade.

Reflect on this fact a moment, and then proceed to another, namely, that traders who know their business are unaffected by change in prices; they lose on their goods when prices fall, but they gain when prices rise. that against that," and if your book-keeping be correct, one in the course of time balances the other.

"Put

The speculator is a very different person. Like th last new comet, he acknowledges a law of his own. He does concern himself in the rise and fall of prices, for they deeply concern him. The trader depends on customers; the speculator has none. The trader depends upon small, but regular gains; the speculator looks to sudden and eccentric enrichment. The world is his market.

No doubt, speculation is a lottery, but so is going to California. Since the suppression of lotteries in Massachusetts, mercantile speculation, daring, dashing, hazardous, break-neck adventures, have greatly increased, not only in actual amount, but proportionally in comparison with regular trade. The fact is, there is a certain quantum of the spirit of the wild and eager and hazardous adventure ever in the community, and it will seek exercise and gratification in some form or other. People who bought lottery-tickets thirty years ago now buy fancy stock" in railroads, bales of cotton, bags of coffee, or the promises of such things-go to bed and dream of castles in the air-the same as formerly. Then they paid five dollars for a chance-now five thousand.

Men therefore will speculate; though to the uninitiated speculation has all the risk of lottery-dealing. We will attempt, for this reason, to initiate those who are bent on this course of adventure.

Three things are essential to a successful speculator -time, capital, and courage; and these are of little avail without judgment. All speculation has reference to a future, in which the question of time is involved. Results are never immediate. Capital-everybody knows nothing can be done without that; and, if a man wants courage, let him draw a hand-cart, sell friction-matches about the streets, get in coal, shovel snow, clean boots, or sit in his chimney corner, and wish he had an office under the government; he will never make a speculator; for he ought to be large of faith-a believer in things not seen. Activity is essential to trade; patience in speculation. Nothing is to be done when nothing is to be gained—a maxim which, from the obvious cause of the necessity of keeping customers, cannot always be followed in trade. Watchful ever, must we here "bide our time,"—the proper time for buying, the proper time for selling; although, no doubt, it is equally necessary to strike, to act decisively, when that time arrives. That, in fact, nothing be done, when nothing should be done, is, in the present instance, at least not so easy to a mercantile man as may be imagined; for a man of business must always be doing, whether at a profit or a loss, while the periods between the buying and the selling point, or one speculation and another, are necessarily long, dreary intervals of idleness, which afford no room for the exercise of the faculties. He is, therefore, apt to take a narrow, peddling view of things, so different from the qualities required in the more abstracted, if not higher calling here taken into view.

The time for entering on trade is when things are at their worst, and that is not a bad time to enter on speculation; you may trade in anything or everything, but you can speculate only in a few things. You should not speculate in axe-handles, wooden-bowls, hop-poles, shoepegs, washing-machines, or mouse-traps, because countrymen and mechanics can make them to order in any quantity when they are wanted.

This law applies to all manufactures, except in reference to the raw material; and raw material admits of speculation only when it is affected by the season. The proper objects of speculation are, therefore, agricultural produce of most kinds-flour, cotton, sugar, coffee, tea, &c. which amply suffice the speculator to make a fortune -or to lose one.

As you wish to make a fortune, take the necessary means: study statistics, and attend to great political and commercial changes. Take a commodity, and find