the wide ocean of commerce. The fate of such men is
very sad. Of course we hear of bankrupts who come forth again with
renewed glories, and who shine all the brighter in consequence of
their temporary obscurity. These are the men who can manage to have
themselves repainted and regilded; but their number is not great. One
hears of such because they are in their way memorable; and one does
not hear of the poor wretches who sink down out of the world--back
behind counters, and to menial work in warehouses. Of ordinary
bankrupts one hears nothing. They are generally men who, having saved
a little with long patience, embark it all and lose it with rapid
impotence. They come forward once in their lives with their little
ventures, and then retire never more to be seen or noticed. Of all
the shops that are opened year after year in London, not above a half
remain in existence for a period of twelve months; and not a half
ever afford a livelihood to those who open them. Is not that a matter
which ought to fill one with melancholy? On the establishment of
every new shop there are the same high hopes,--those very hopes with
which Brown, Jones, and Robinson commenced their career. It is not
that all expect to shine forth upon the world as merchant princes,
but all do expect to live upon the fruit of their labour and to put
by that which will make their old age respectable. Alas! alas! Of
those who thus hope how much the larger proportion are doomed to
disappointment. The little lots of goods that are bought and brought
together with so much pride turn themselves into dust and rubbish.
The gloss and gilding wear away, as they wear away also from the
heart of the adventurer, and then the small aspirant sinks back
into the mass of nothings from whom he had thought to rise. When
one thinks of it, it is very sad; but the sadness is not confined
to commerce. It is the same at the bar, with the army, and in the
Church. We see only the few who rise above the waves, and know
nothing of the many who are drowned beneath the waters.

Perhaps something of all this was in the heart of our friend Robinson
as he placed himself at his desk in his little room. Now, for this
next day or two he would still be somebody in the career of Magenta
House. His services were wanted; and therefore, though he was ruined,
men smiled on him. But how would it be with him when that sale should
be over, and when he would be called upon to leave the premises and
wa