“And how do you come to know Mrs. Hoggarty’s property so accurately?” said Mr. Brough; upon which I told him.

“Good heavens, sir! and do you mean that you, a clerk in the West Diddlesex Insurance Office, applied to by a respectable lady as to the manner in which she should invest property, never spoke to her about the Company which you have the honour to serve?  Do you mean, sir, that you, knowing there was a bonus of five per cent. for yourself upon shares taken, did not press Mrs. Hoggarty to join us?”

“Sir,” says I, “I’m an honest man, and would not take a bonus from my own relation.”

“Honest I know you are, my boy—­give me your hand!  So am I honest—­so is every man in this Company honest; but we must be prudent as well.  We have five millions of capital on our books, as you see—­five bona fide millions of bona fide sovereigns paid up, sir,—­there is no dishonesty there.  But why should we not have twenty millions—­a hundred millions?  Why should not this be the greatest commercial Association in the world?—­as it shall be, sir,—­it shall, as sure as my name is John Brough, if Heaven bless my honest endeavours to establish it!  But do you suppose that it can be so, unless every man among us use his utmost exertions to forward the success of the enterprise?  Never, sir,—­never; and, for me, I say so everywhere.  I glory in what I do.  There is not a house in which I enter, but I leave a prospectus of the West Diddlesex.  There is not a single tradesman I employ, but has shares in it to some amount.  My servants, sir,—­my very servants and grooms, are bound up with it.  And the first question I ask of anyone who applies to me for a place is, Are you insured or a shareholder in the West Diddlesex? the second, Have you a good character?  And if the first question is answered in the negative, I say to the party coming to me, Then be a shareholder before you ask for a place in my household.  Did you not see me—­me, John Brough, whose name is good for millions—­step out of my coach-and-four into this office, with four pounds nineteen, which I paid in to Mr. Roundhand as the price of half a share for the porter at my lodge-gate?  Did you remark that I deducted a shilling from the five pound?”

“Yes, sir; it was the day you drew out eight hundred and seventy-three ten and six—­Thursday week,” says I.

“And why did I deduct that shilling, sir?  Because it was my commission—­John Brough’s commission; honestly earned by him, and openly taken.  Was there any disguise about it?  No.  Did I do it for the love of a shilling?  No,” says Brough, laying his hand on his heart, “I did it from principle,—­from that motive which guides every one of my actions, as I can look up to Heaven and say.  I wish all my young men to see my example, and follow it:  I wish—­I pray that they may.  Think of that example, sir.  That porter of mine has a sick wife and nine young children:  he is himself