A printer in Shoreditch struck off for him a number of copies of his advertisements, and when all was prepared he commenced to write his orders for their publication. With these orders he enclosed packets of postage stamps, varying in value from sixpence to five and six shillings. Nearly one hundred and fifty went away without any stamps at all, the writer requesting a bill for the amount to be sent off when the advertisement had appeared, with a quotation for thirteen, twenty-six, and fifty-two insertions. These were chiefly posted to the penny district papers and to those most recently established. These missives duly passed through the post-office, and were opened by newspaper publishers, clerks, proprietors, and editors, the next day, in all parts of England. Some of them were opened in bright, well-furnished counting-houses; many in dingy little back rooms; others were carried up to private houses, where proprietors and editors read their letters before business hours in the morning. If you could have witnessed the varied treatment which these letters of Mr. Gibbs, _alias_ Marfleeting, _alias_ Cavendish, received, you would have been highly entertained. Some gentlemen who opened the letters smiled contemptuously, said, “Indeed,” and returned stamps and order; others who were not favoured with stamps tossed the letters into waste-paper baskets; some said, “Bah!” and tore the things up. In many cases, however, the stamps were passed to credit, and the advertisement ordered for insertion in the ordinary course of business; and amongst the new and cheap district papers, half printed in London and otherwise, the order unaccompanied by stamps was duly obeyed, and a price gravely quoted for thirteen, twenty-six, and fifty-two insertions, with discount carefully mentioned for pre-payment.