But this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice: If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some; for he that goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing; and, indeed, so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it again.' Poor Dick further advises, and says:

'Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse:

Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.'

And again: 'Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more saucy.' When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece; but poor Dick says: "It is easier to suppress the first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it.' And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as the frog to swell in order to equal the ox.

'Vessels large may venture more,

But little boats should keep near shore.'

"Tis, however, a folly soon punished; for 'Pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt,' as poor Richard says. And in another place: 'Pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy.' And, after all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, so much is suffered? It cannot promote health, or ease pain; it makes no increase of merit in the person; it creates envy; it hastens misfortunes.

What is a butterfly? at best,

He's but a caterpillar drest;
The gaudy fop 's his picture just,'

as poor Richard says.

"But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities! We are offered by the terms of this sale six months' credit; and that perhaps has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be

fine without it. But ah! think what you do when you run in debt. You give to another power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor: you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for, as poor Richard says: "The second vice is lying; the first, is running into debt.' And again, to the same purpose: 'Lying rides upon debt's back;' whereas a free-born Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue: 'It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright,' as poor Richard truly says. What would you think of that prince, or that government, who would issue an edict, forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or a gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? Would you not say, that you are free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, and such a government tyrannical? And yet you are about to put yourself under that tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress! Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in jail for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you should not be able to pay him. When you have got your bargain, you may perhaps think little of payment; but 'Creditors,' poor Richard tells us, 'have better memories than debtors;' and in another place he says: 'Creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times.' The day comes round before you are aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it. Or if you bear your debt in mind, the term which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. Those have a short lent,' saith poor Richard, 'who owe money to be paid at Easter.' Then since, as he says, 'The borrower is a slave to the lender, and the debtor to the

creditor,' disdain the chain, preserve your freedom, and maintain your independency: be industrious and free; be frugal and free. At present, perhaps you may think yourselves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury; but

'For age and want save while you may,

No morning sun lasts a whole day,'

as poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and uncertain; but ever, while you live, expense is constant and certain; and 'It is easier to build two chimneys, than to keep one in fuel,' as poor Richard says. So, 'Rather go to bed supperless than rise in debt.'

'Get what you can, and what you get, hold,

"Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold,'

as poor Richard says. And when you have got the philosopher's stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times or the difficulty of paying taxes!

"This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom; but, after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence, though excellent things; for they may be blasted without the blessing of Heaven: and therefore ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember Job suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.

"And now, to conclude: 'Experience keeps a dear school; but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that; for it is true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct,' as poor Richard says. However, remember this: "They that will not be counselled, cannot be helped,' as poor Richard says; and further, that 'If you will not hear reason, she will surely rap your knuckles.""

"Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately practised

the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon; for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly, notwithstanding all his cautions and their own fear of taxes. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on those topics during the course of twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired every one else: but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own which he ascribed to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and though I had first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine.'

A COURSE OF READING.

I

T was at one time generally imagined that the pursuit of business was incompatible with literary tastes and acquirements. Trade was thought to indicate grovelling ideas. Attention to the duties of a profession was believed to chill the finer feelings. With a more enlarged experience of mankind, we now know that elevation of mind is monopolised by no particular rank in society, and that professional labours, even of a humble kind, may be cheered by a habitual cultivation of the higher sentiments.

Destined to make your way in the world by your own exertions, you may derive considerable pleasure and advantage from a course of reading and study, over a series of years; the aim, as a general rule, being to make yourself a well-informed man-informed not only on the specialties of your profession, and certain small matters of local concern, but acquainted with the works of the best writers in the English and some other languages. As has been already stated, the mind will derive little benefit from desultory reading-snatches of newspapers, periodicals, novels, and the miscellaneous productions which ordinarily invite the notice of the idle and indifferent.

Persons of scholarly acquirements begin their course of reading by a perusal of ancient historians, including Herodotus, Thucydides, Diodorus Siculus, Pliny, Tacitus, and Cæsar; the works of these and other great writers being studied in the original. The young whom I address, however, are not expected to possess the high qualification of being able to read Greek and