n the purse and the conscience,
and accordingly the blessings of Heaven descended in golden showers upon
the proselyte. "I shall die worth a plum," said Moses the elder (who had
taken unto himself the Christian cognomen of Brown); "I shall die worth
a plum," repeated he, as he went one fine morning to speculate at the
Exchange. A change of news, sharp and unexpected as a change of wind,
lowered the stocks and blighted the plum. Mr. Brown was in the "Gazette"
that week, and his wife in weeds for him the next. He left behind him,
besides the said wife, several debts and his son Moses. Beggared by the
former, our widow took a small shop in Wardour Street to support
the latter. Patient, but enterprising--cautious of risking pounds,
indefatigable in raising pence--the little Moses inherited the
propensities of his Hebrew ancestors; and though not so capable as
his immediate progenitor of making a fortune, he was at least far less
likely to lose one. In spite, however, of all the industry both of
mother and son, the gains of the shop were but scanty; to increase
them capital was required, and all Mr. Moses Brown's capital lay in his
brain. "It is a bad foundation," said the mother, with a sigh. "Not at
all!" said the son, and leaving the shop, he turned broker. Now a broker
is a man who makes an income out of other people's funds,--a gleaner of
stray extravagances; and by doing the public the honour of living upon
them may fairly be termed a little sort of state minister in his way.
What with haunting sales, hawking china, selling the curiosities of one
old lady and purchasing the same for another, Mr. Brown managed to enjoy
a very comfortable existence. Great pains and small gains will at last
invert their antithesis, and make little trouble and great profit; so
that by the time Mr. Brown had attained his fortieth year, the petty
shop had become a large warehouse; and, if the worthy Moses, now
christianized into Morris, was not so sanguine as his father in the
gathering of plums, he had been at least as fortunate in the collecting
of windfalls. To say truth, the abigail of the defunct Lady Waddilove
had been no unprofitable helpmate to our broker. As ingenious as
benevolent, she was the owner of certain rooms of great resort in the
neighbourhood of St. James's,--rooms where caps and appointments were
made better than anywhere else, and where credit was given and character
lost upon terms equally advantageous to the accommodati