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THE CHEPSTOW GLEANER. No. 15. Fiat Lux—" Let there be Light." Price 3d. Penny Wisdom. Whatever may be the virtue of saving, it is tolerably evident that we may commit a most egre¬ gious error by adhering scrupu¬ lously to a fixed plan of general economy. Money is not the great good—not that which we should alone live for: it is but a means, and often a very imperfect means, to an end. What signifies our acquisition of opulence, if, in the meanwhile, we have allowed all the comforts and rational enjoy¬ ments of existence to pass away untasted ? Money, however, is considered by not a few to be ' the great good,' —the ultimate object of posses¬ sion—not the means, but the end. It is undeniable, that there are many people in the world whose whole life presents but a series of struggles to save a penny. These are generally a short-sighted race, often entirely wrong in their cal¬ culations. By way of following out their schemes for saving, un¬ der whatever circumstances they be placed, they frequently lose a decided advantage rather than risk the smallest sum in any thing like speculation. They do not appear to be aware that what seems to be a saving at the time may be no saving at the end, but a serious loss. But saving in the long run is what their faculties do not comprehend; and they are hence continually shipwrecking excellent prospects of well-doing, because they will not swerve from the rigid regulations laid down by them for their government. The unhappy beings, who flatter .s themselves with the idea that they are to attain opulence by their penny-saving system—all the time be it remarked rejecting the com¬ forts and conveniences of life— may doubtless really arrive at the easy circumstances they desire; but might they not have done so, perhaps more honourably, by the exercise of a little sound judgment and a greater degree of spirit?— They have, by pinching, and screwing, and scraping, at length reached to comfort, but where is the * great good?' They have long since lost all relish for the cordial bounties poured upon mankind for their enjoyment; the companions of their youth have vanished from their society; friendship is a thing to them most likely unknown; they have plenty, but they are surrounded by strangers : and their decease is daily and hourly longed for by distant relations, hungering and thirsting after their painfully accumulated wealth. There are others, who have struggled hard to accumulate, but in the end find themselves poor. Such men have a low grubbing way with them; married perhaps to a low underbred woman with a little money, the interest of which is not equal to a ploughman's wa¬ ges, but which she and her con¬ nexions deem a fortune. If they have children, instead of cultiva¬ ting their minds, they accustom them to all kinds of drudgery. They prefer resorting to the mean¬ est houses of entertainment: ra¬ ther walk than take a coach; ra¬ ther undergo the risk of being thought mean, than pay out a