Sir John Blunt was the projector of the South-Sea bubble, which, in 1720, produced such extraordinary effects in England. As the scheme did not at first prove successful, rumors were spread that Gibraltar and Port Mahon would be exchanged for Peru. The stock soon rose to 1,000 per cent., and the excitement lasted till September, by which time it had sunk to 150. Several eminent goldsmiths and bankers were obliged to abscond; and every family in the kingdom felt the shock. In other works the anecdotes of this memorable period have been presented in proportion to their effects upon commerce; in the present, those only will be given which either affect the Stock Exchange or possess a general interest. On May 15th, 1719, the king went abroad, and many who went with him sold all their funds. The Bank of England was accused of assisting the bubble by lending money, for the first time, on the security of its stock; “and this,” said Mr. Aislabie, “furnished an additional supply of money to gamesters in the Alley.” The stories of the period are very widely spread, and prove how all ranks were affected. The Marquis of Chandos embarked £300,000 in it, and the Duke of Newcastle advised him to sell when he could make the tolerable profit of cent. per cent. The Marquis was greedy, hoped to make it half a million, and the advice was declined. The panic came, and the entire investment went in the shock. Samuel Chandler, the eminent nonconformist divine, risked his whole fortune in the bubble, lost it, and was obliged to serve in a bookseller’s shop for two or three years, while he continued to discharge his ministerial duty. The elder Scraggs gave Gay £1,000 stock, and, as the poet had been a previous purchaser, his gain at one time amounted to £20,000. He consulted Dr. Arbuthnot, who strongly advised him to sell out. The bard doubted, hesitated, and lost all. The doctor who gave such shrewd advice was too irresolute to act on his own opinion, and lost £2,000; but, with an enviable philosophy, comforted himself by saying it would be only 2,000 more pairs of stairs to ascend. Thomas Hudson, a native of Leeds, came to London, and filled the situation of government clerk. Having been left a large fortune, he retired to the country, where he lived until, tempted to adventure in the scheme, he embarked the whole of his fortune in it. After his loss he came to London, became insane, and Tom of Ten Thousand, as he called himself, wandered through the public streets, a piteous and pitiable object of charity. One tradesman, who had invested his entire resources in the stock, came to town to dispose of it when it reached 1,000. On his arrival it had fallen to 900, and as he had decided to sell at 1,000, he determined to wait. The stock continued to decline, the tradesman continued to hold, and became, as he deserved, a ruined man.