George Moore had a brother. He was far apter than George; he had a better education; he had read extensively, and was well versed in literature; but he wanted that which his brother George had—intense perseverance. Hence the failure of the one, and the success of the other. It is thus the determined, persevering man who succeeds. It was thus Warren Hastings won back the broad lands of his ancestors. “In New York,” says an American writer, “fortunes are suddenly made, and suddenly lost. I can count over a dozen merchants who, at the time I began to write this book, a few months ago, were estimated to be worth not less than 250,000 dollars—some of them half a million—who are now utterly penniless. At the opening of this year (1868), a merchant, well-known in this city, had a surplus of 250,000 dollars in cash. He died suddenly in July. He made his will about three months before his death, and appointed his executors. By that will he divided 250,000 dollars. His executors contributed 1,000 dollars to save a portion of his furniture for his widow, and that was all that was left her out of that great estate. He did what thousands have done before him—what thousands are doing now, and will do to-morrow. He had money enough; but he wanted a little more. He was induced to go into a nice little speculation in Wall Street; he put in 50,000 dollars. To save it he put in 50,000 dollars more. The old story was repeated, with the same result.” I knew a gentleman who began the world as an advertising agent; he managed to get a share in a newspaper, which eventually became an immense commercial success. His share of the profits amounted to some thousands a-year; but this was not enough—he must have more. He turned money-lender, borrowing at 5 per cent., to lend money on bad security at a high rate of interest. He died in the prime of life, a bankrupt, and of a broken heart. It is not every one who knows when to leave off money-making; but there is a time when a wise man will remain satisfied with what he has won. I knew a gentleman in the Corn Exchange, who was worth £80,000. That was not enough for him, though to many it would have been a fair fortune. He was determined to make one grand _coup_ before finally retiring from business, and enjoying the fruits of his industry and enterprise. He did so against the entreaties of his friends. The grand coup was a failure, and he died as poor as Job. Such men are to be met in London every day.