facilities of advertising in the county papers, and yet they got along, and in process of time amassed what, in that region, was considered to be quite a fortune. He now opens a fine stock of goods in a commodious house in Chestnut-street, and thinks that everybody knows him, and of course will trade with him. Was he not known in Buncombe? Did he not come from Lancaster? He has fallen into the delusion that, because he was known in the town and county that gave him birth, that certainly he must be known here.

On the score of economy, as he deems it, he refuses to advertise. It costs too much; he never did it before, why do it now? He has a good house, he has good stock, he has competent clerks; he himself is a pleasant and accommodating merchant. Why does he not succeed? Nobody knows him, or cares to know him. The competition in the market does not permit Mr. Fogy to become a necessity. Chestnut-street can do without him, and the city would not miss him any more than she would a fly, if he was to move to parts unknown. Now, what does economy of rent require? What of clerk's hire?

What of interest on capital?

They all require that he should invest

What of time?

something in ad

vertising, and that too on a liberal scale. Not in one paper only, but in many; not occasionally, but constantly; and he will soon find the benefit of so doing. Parsimony may say No! it will be too expensive: you I can't stand it. But economy replies:-You are mistaken; I must advertise to be known, to be felt, to be appreciated. If I feel interested in my own success, my neighbours will sympathize with me; and, if they see

me helping myself, they will cheerfully and promptly come to my aid.

Take the following illustration of the difference between parsimony and economy. Sir Walter Scott tells of a near kinsman, who, having been informed that a family vault of his was decaying and likely to fall in, and that ten pounds would make the repairs, proffered only five pounds. It would not do. Two years after he proffered the full sum. He was assured that twenty pounds would scarce serve. He hesitated, hemmed and hawed for three years more, then offered twenty pounds. The wind and rain had not waited for his decision, and not less than fifty pounds would now suffice. A year afterwards he sent a check for fifty pounds, which was returned by post, with the intelligence that the aisle had fallen the preceding week. The reader will make his own application.

SELF-RELIANCE IMPORTANT TO THE

MERCHANT.

SELF-RELIANCE to the merchant, and indeed to all who would succeed in the accomplishment of a laudable purpose or pursuit, is indispensable. It was this trait, perhaps, more than any other, that enabled an Astor, a Girard, a Gray, in our own country, to work out for themselves vast fortunes-to accumulate millions. An eminent writer has somewhere said, if our young men

miscarry in their first enterprise they lose all heart. If a young merchant fails, men say he is ruined. If the finest genius studies in one of our colleges, and is not installed in an office in one year afterwards, it seems to his friends and himself that he is right in being disheartened, and in complaining the rest of his life. A sturdy Yankee who in turn tries all the professions, who teams it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school, preaches, edits a newspaper, goes to Congress, buys a township, and so forth, in successive years, and always, like a cat, falls on his feet, is worth a hundred of these city dolls. He walks abreast with his days, and feels no shame in not studying a profession, for he does not postpone his life, but lives already. He has not one chance! Let a stoic arise who shall reveal the resources of man, and tell men they are not weeping willows, but can and must detach themselves; that, with the exercise of self-trust, new powers shall appear; that a man is the word made flesh, born to shed healing to the nations; that he should be ashamed of our compassion; and that the moment he acts from himself, tossing the laws, the books' idolatries and customs out of the window, we pity him no more, but thank him and revere him-and that teacher shall restore the life of man to splendour, and make his name dear to all history. It is easier to see that a greater self-reliance-a new respect for the divinity in man— must work a revolution in all the offices and relations of men; in their religion, in their education, in their pursuits, their modes of living, their association, in their property, in their speculative views.

MICAWBER'S ADVICE.

"My advice is, Never to do to-morrow what you can do to-day; 'procrastination is the thief of time.' My other piece of advice is: Annual income £20, annual expenditure £19 19s. 6d. result, happiness. Annual income, £20, annual expenditure, £20 Os. 6d. result, misery. The blossom is blighted, the leaf is withered, the god of days goes down upon the dreary scene, and, in short, you are for ever floored-as I am now."

HOW TO MAKE MONEY.

LET the business of everybody else alone, and attend to your own; do not buy what you do not want; use every hour to advantage, and study to make even leisure hours useful, think twice before you throw away a shilling-remember you will have another to make for it; find recreation in looking after your business, and so your business will not be neglected in looking after recreation; buy low; sell fair, and take care of the profits; look over your books regularly, and if you find an error, trace it out; should a stroke of misfortune come upon you in trade, retrench, work harder, "but never fly the track;" confront difficulties with unflinching perseverance, and they will disappear at last; though you should

even fail in the struggle, you will be honoured; but shrink from the task, and you will be despised. By following these rules, however, you never need say "fail;' pay debts promptly, and so exact your dues; keep your word.

GAMBLING.

No passion can leap to such extremities, nor involve a man in such a complicated train of crimes and vices, and ruin whole families so completely, as the baneful rage for gambling. It produces and nourishes all imaginable disgraceful sensations; it is the most fertile nursery of covetousness, envy, rage, malice, dissimulation, falsehood, and foolish reliance on blind fortune; it frequently leads to fraud, quarrels, murder, forgery, meanness, and despair; and robs us in the most unpardonable manner of the greatest and most irrecoverable treasure-time. Those that are rich act foolishly in venturing their money in uncertain speculations; and those that have not much to risk must play with timidity, and cannot long continue play unless the fortune of the game turn, as being obliged to quit the field at the first heavy blow; or if they stake every thing to force the blind goddess to smile upon them at last, madly hazard their being reduced to instant beggary. The gambler but rarely dies a rich man; those that have had the good fortune to realize some property in this miserable way, and continue playing, are guilty of a twofold folly. Trust no person of that description, of whatever rank or character he may be.