LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—I am not a bit ashamed of my part in the following transaction. I have done what little in me lay to further British commerce. British commerce is not now what it was. It is becoming open and free like everything else that is British—open to the poor man as well as to the rich. That bugbear Capital is a crumbling old tower, and is pretty nigh brought to its last ruin. Credit is the polished shaft of the temple on which the new world of trade will be content to lean. That, I take it, is the one great doctrine of modern commerce. Credit—credit—credit. Get credit, and capital will follow. Doesn’t the word speak for itself? Must not credit be respectable? And is not the word “respectable” the highest term of praise which can be applied to the British tradesman? Credit is the polished shaft of the temple. But with what are you to polish it? The stone does not come from the quarry with its gloss on: man’s labour is necessary to give it that beauteous exterior. Then wherewith shall we polish credit? I answer the question at once. With the pumice-stone and sand-paper of advertisement. Different great men have promulgated the different means by which they have sought to subjugate the world. “Audacity—audacity—audacity,” was the lesson which one hero taught. “Agitate—agitate—agitate,” was the counsel of a second. “Register—register—register,” of a third. But I say—Advertise, advertise, advertise! And I say it again and again—Advertise, advertise, advertise! It is, or should be, the Shibboleth of British commerce. That it certainly will be so I, George Robinson, hereby venture to prophesy, feeling that on this subject something but little short of inspiration has touched my eager pen.