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SECTION XII. Bashfulness and Modesty.
Dr. Young says, 'The man that blushes is not quite a brute.' This is undoubtedly true; yet nothing is more clear, as Addison has shown us, than that a person may be both bashful and impudent.
I know the world commend the former quality, and condemn the latter; but I deem them both evils. Perhaps the latter is the greater of the two. The proper medium is true modesty. This is always commendable.
We are compelled to take the world, in a great measure, as it is. We can hardly expect men to come and buy our wares, unless we advertise or expose them for sale. So if we would commend ourselves to the notice of our fellow men, we must set ourselves up,—not for something which we are not;—but for what, upon a careful examination, we find reason to think we are. Many a good and valuable man has gone through this life, without being properly estimated; from the vain belief that true merit could not always escape unnoticed. This belief, after all, is little else but a species of fatalism.
By setting ourselves up, I do not mean puffing and pretending, or putting on airs of haughtiness or arrogance; or any affectation whatever. But there are those—and some of them are persons of good sense, in many respects, who can scarcely answer properly, when addressed, or look the person with whom they are conversing in the face; and who often render themselves ridiculous for fear they shall be so. I have seen a man of respectable talents, who, in conversation never raised his eyes higher than the tassels of his friend's boots; and another who could never converse without turning half or three quarters round, so as to present his shoulder or the backside of his head, instead of a plain, honest face.
I have known young men injured by bashfulness. It is vain to say that it should not be so. The world is not what it should be, in many respects; and I must insist that it is our duty, to take it as it is, in order to make it better, or even in order to live in it with comfort. He that thinks he shall not, most surely will not, please. A man of sense, and knowledge of the world, will assert his own rights, and pursue his own purposes as steadily and uninterruptedly as the most impudent man living; but then there is at the same time an air of modesty in all he does; while an overbearing or impudent manner of doing the same things, would undoubtedly have given offence. Hence a certain wise man has said; 'He who knows the world will not be too bashful; and he who knows himself will never be impudent.'
Perpetual embarrassment in company or in conversation, is sometimes even construed into meanness. Avoid,—if you can do it, without too great a sacrifice—every appearance of deserving a charge so weighty.
SECTION XIII. Politeness and Good-Breeding.
Awkwardness is scarcely more tolerable than bashfulness. It must proceed from one of two things; either from not having kept good company, or from not having derived any benefit from it. Many very worthy people have certain odd tricks, and ill habits, that excite a prejudice against them, which it is not easy to overcome. Hence the importance of good-breeding.
Now there are not a few who despise all these little things of life, as they call them; and yet much of their lives is taken up with them, small as they are. And since these self same little things cannot be dispensed with, is it not better that they should be done in the easiest, and at the same time the pleasantest manner possible?
There is no habit more difficult to attain, and few so necessary to possess, as perfect good-breeding. It is equally inconsistent with a stiff formality, an impertinent forwardness, and an awkward bashfulness. True Christian education would seem to include it; and yet unfortunately, Christians are not always polite.
Is it not surprising that we may sometimes observe, in mere men of the world, that kind of carriage which should naturally be expected from an individual thoroughly imbued with the spirit of Christianity, while his very neighbors, who are professing Christians, appear, by their conduct, to be destitute of such a spirit? Which, then, in practice (I mean so far as this fact is concerned) are the best Christians? But I know what will be the answer; and I know that these things ought not so to be.
No good reason can be given why a Christian should not be as well-bred as his neighbor. It is difficult to conceive how a person can follow the rules given in the Sermon on the Mount, without being, and showing himself to be, well-bred. I have even known men who were no friends to the bible, to declare it as their unequivocal belief that he whose life should conform to the principles of that sermon, could not avoid being truly polite.
There are not a few who confound good-breeding with affectation, just as they confound a reasonable attention to dress with foppery. This calling things by wrong names is very common, how much soever it may be lamented.
Good-breeding, or true politeness, is the art of showing men, by external signs, the internal regard we have for them. It arises from good sense, improved by good company. Good-breeding is never to be learned, though it may be improved, by the study of books; and therefore they who attempt it, appear stiff and pedantic. The really well-bred, as they become so by use and observation, are not liable to affectation. You see good-breeding in all they do, without seeing the art of it. Like other habits, it is acquired by practice.
An engaging manner and genteel address may be out of our power, although it is a misfortune that it should be so. But it is in the power of every body to be kind, condescending, and affable. It is in the power of every person who has any thing to say to a fellow being, to say it with kind feelings, and with a sincere desire to please; and this, whenever it is done, will atone for much awkwardness in the manner of expression. Forced complaisance is foppery; and affected easiness is ridiculous.
Good-breeding is, and ought to be, an amiable and persuasive thing; it beautifies the actions and even the looks of men. But the grimace of good-breeding is not less odious.
In short, good-breeding is a forgetting of ourselves so far as to seek what may be agreeable to others, but in so artless and delicate a manner as will scarcely allow them to perceive that we are so employed; and the regarding of ourselves, not as the centre of motion on which every thing else is to revolve, but only as one of the wheels or parts, in a vast machine, embracing other wheels and parts of equal, and perhaps more than equal importance. It is hence utterly opposed to selfishness, vanity, or pride. Nor is it proportioned to the supposed riches and rank of him whose favor and patronage you would gladly cultivate; but extends to all. It knows how to contradict with respect; and to please, without adulation.
The following are a few plain directions for attaining the character of a well-bred man.
1. Never weary your company by talking too long, or too frequently.
2. Always look people in the face when you address them, and generally when they are speaking to you.
3. Attend to a person who is addressing you. Inattention marks a trifling mind, and is a most unpardonable piece of rudeness. It is even an affront; for it is the same thing as saying that his remarks are not worth your attention.
4. Do not interrupt the person who is speaking by saying yes, or no, or hem, at every sentence; it is the most useless thing that can be. An occasional assent, either by word or action, may be well enough; but even a nod of assent is sometimes repeated till it becomes disgusting.
5. Remember that every person in a company likes to be the hero of that company. Never, therefore, engross the whole conversation to yourself.
6. Learn to sit or stand still, while another is speaking to you. You will not of course be so rude as to dig in the earth with your feet, or take your penknife from your pocket and pair your nails; but there are a great many other little movements which are scarcely less clownish.
7. Never anticipate for another, or help him out, as it is called. This is quite a rude affair, and should ever be avoided. Let him conclude his story for himself. It is time enough for you to make corrections or additions afterward, if you deem his account defective. It is also a piece of impoliteness to interrupt another in his remarks.
8. Say as little of yourself and your friends as possible.
9. Make it a rule never to accuse, without due consideration, any body or association of men.
10. Never try to appear more wise or learned than the rest of the company. Not that you should affect ignorance; but endeavor to remain within your own proper sphere.
SECTION XIV. Personal Habits.
I have elsewhere spoken of the importance of early rising. Let me merely request you, in this place, to form a habit of this kind, from which no ordinary circumstances shall suffer you to depart. Your first object after rising and devotion, should be to take a survey of the business which lies before you during the day, making of course a suitable allowance for exigencies. I have seldom known a man in business thrive—and men of business we all ought to be, whatever may be our occupation—who did not rise early in the morning, and plan his work for the day. Some of those who have been most successful, made it a point to have this done before daylight. Indeed, I was intimately acquainted with one man who laid out the business of the day, attended family worship, and breakfasted before sunrise; and this too, at all seasons of the year.
Morning gowns and slippers are very useful things, it is said. But the reasons given for their utility are equally in favor of always wearing them. 'They are loose and comfortable.' Very well: Should not our dress always be loose? 'They save other clothes.' Then why not wear them all day long? The truth, after all, is, that they are fashionable, and as we usually give the true reason for a thing last, this is probably the principal reason why they are so much in use. I am pretty well convinced, however, that they are of little real use to him who is determined to eat his bread 'in the sweat of his face,' according to the Divine appointment.
Looking-glasses are useful in their place, but like many other conveniences of life, by no means indispensable; and so much abused, that a man of sense would almost be tempted, for the sake of example, to lay them aside. Of all wasted time, none is more foolishly wasted than that which is employed in unnecessary looking at one's own pretty face.
This may seem a matter of small consequence; but nothing can be of small importance to which we are obliged to attend every day. If we dressed or shaved but once a year, or once a month, the case would be altered; but this is a piece of work that must be done once every day; and, as it may cost only about five minutes of time, and may be, and frequently is, made to cost thirty, or even fifty minutes; and, as only fifteen minutes make about a fiftieth part of the hours of our average daylight; this being the case, it is a matter of real importance.
SIR JOHN SINCLAIR asked a friend whether he meant to have a son of his (then a little boy) taught Latin? 'No,' said he, 'but I mean to do something a great deal better for him.' 'What is that?' said Sir John. 'Why,' said the other, 'I mean to teach him to shave with cold water, and without a glass.'
My readers may smile, but I can assure them that Sir John is not alone. There are many others who have adopted this practice, and found it highly beneficial. One individual, who had tried it for years, has the following spirited remarks on the subject.
'Only think of the inconvenience attending the common practice! There must be hot water; to have this there must be a fire, and, in some cases, a fire for that purpose alone; to have these, there must be a servant, or you must light a fire yourself. For the want of these, the job is put off until a later hour: this causes a stripping and another dressing bout: or, you go in a slovenly state all that day, and the next day the thing must be done, or cleanliness must be abandoned altogether. If you are on a journey, you must wait the pleasure of the servants at the inn before you can dress and set out in the morning; the pleasant time for travelling is gone before you can move from the spot: instead of being at the end of your day's journey in good time, you are benighted, and have to endure all the great inconveniences attendant on tardy movements. And all this from the apparently insignificant affair of shaving. How many a piece of important business has failed from a short delay! And how many thousand of such delays daily proceed from this unworthy cause!'
These remarks are especially important to those persons in boarding-houses and elsewhere, for whom hot water, if they use it, must be expressly prepared.
Let me urge you never to say I cannot go, or do such a thing, till I am shaved or dressed. Take care always to BE shaved and dressed, and then you will always be ready to act. But to this end the habit must be formed in early life, and pertinaciously adhered to.
There are those who can truly say that to the habit of adhering to the principles which have been laid down, they owe much of their success in life; that however sober, discreet, and abstinent they might have been, they never could have accomplished much without it. We should suppose by reasoning beforehand, that the army could not be very favorable to steady habits of this or any other kind; yet the following is the testimony of one who had made the trial.
'To the habit of early rising and husbanding my time well, more than to any other thing, I owed my very extraordinary promotion in the army. I was always ready. If I had to mount guard at ten, I was ready at nine: never did any man, or any thing, wait one moment for me. Being, at an age under twenty years, raised from corporal to sergeant major at once, over the heads of thirty sergeants, I should naturally have been an object of envy and hatred; but this habit of early rising really subdued these passions.
'Before my promotion, a clerk was wanted to make out the morning report of the regiment. I rendered the clerk unnecessary; and, long before any other man was dressed for the parade, my work for the morning was all done, and I myself was on the parade ground, walking, in fine weather, for an hour perhaps.
'My custom was this: to get up, in summer, at daylight, and in winter at four o'clock; shave, dress, even to the putting of my sword-belt over my shoulder, and having my sword lying on the table before me, ready to hang by my side. Then I ate a bit of cheese, or pork, and bread. Then I prepared my report, which was filled up as fast as the companies brought me in the materials. After this, I had an hour or two to read, before the time came for any duty out of doors, unless when the regiment, or part of it, went out to exercise in the morning. When this was the case, and the matter was left to me, I always had it on the ground in such time as that the bayonets glistened in the rising sun; a sight which gave me delight, of which I often think, but which I should in vain endeavor to describe.
'If the officers were to go out, eight or ten o'clock was the hour. Sweating men in the heat of the day, or breaking in upon the time for cooking their dinner, puts all things out of order, and all men out of humor. When I was commander, the men had a long day of leisure before them: they could ramble into the town or into the woods; go to get raspberries, to catch birds, to catch fish, or to pursue any other recreation, and such of them as chose, and were qualified, to work at their trades. So that here, arising solely from the early habits of one very young man, were pleasant and happy days given to hundreds.'
For my own part, I confess that only a few years since, I should have laughed heartily at some of these views, especially the cold water system of shaving. But a friend whom I esteemed, and who shaved with cold water, said so much in its favor that I ventured to make the trial; and I can truly say that I would not return to my former slavery to hot water, if I had a servant who had nothing else to do but furnish it. I cannot indeed say with a recent writer (I think in the Journal of Health) that cold water is a great deal better than warm; but I can and do say that it makes little if any difference with me which I use; though on going out into the cold air immediately afterward, the skin is more likely to chap after the use of warm water than cold. Besides I think the use of warm water more likely to produce eruptions on the skin.—Sometimes, though not generally, I shave, like Sir John Sinclair, without a glass; but I would never be enslaved to one, convenient as it is.
SECTION XV. Bathing and Cleanliness.
Cleanliness of the body has, some how or other, such a connection with mental and moral purity, (whether as cause or effect—or both—I will not undertake now to determine) that I am unwilling to omit the present opportunity of urging its importance. There are those who are so attentive to this subject as to wash their whole bodies in water, either cold or warm, every day of the year; and never to wear the same clothes, during the day, that they have slept in the previous night. Now this habit may by some be called whimsical; but I think it deserves a better name. I consider this extreme, if it ought to be called an extreme, as vastly more safe than the common extreme of neglect.
Is it not shameful—would it not be, were human duty properly understood—to pass months, and even years, without washing the whole body once? There are thousands and tens of thousands of both sexes, who are exceedingly nice, even to fastidiousness, about externals;—who, like those mentioned in the gospel, keep clean the 'outside of the cup and the platter,'—but alas! how is it within? Not a few of us,—living, as we do, in a land where soap and water are abundant and cheap—would blush, if the whole story were told.
This chapter, if extended so far as to embrace the whole subject of cleanliness of person, dress, and apartments, and cold and warm bathing, would alone fill a volume; a volume too, which, if well prepared, would be of great value, especially to all young men. But my present limits do not permit of any thing farther. In regard to cold bathing, however, allow me to refer you to two articles in the third volume of the Annals of Education, pages 315 and 344, which contain the best directions I can give on this subject.
SECTION XVI. On Little Things.
There are many things which, viewed without any reference to prevailing habits, manners, and customs, appear utterly unworthy of attention; and yet, after all, much of our happiness will be found to depend upon them. We are to remember that we live—not alone, on the earth—but among a multitude, each of whom claims, and is entitled to his own estimate of things. Now it often happens that what we deem a little thing, another, who views the subject differently, will regard as a matter of importance.
Among the items to which I refer, are many of the customary salutations and civilities of life; and the modes of dress. Now it is perfectly obvious that many common phrases which are used at meeting and separating, during the ordinary interviews and concerns of life, as well as in correspondence, are in themselves wholly unmeaning. But viewed as an introduction to things of more importance, these little words and phrases at the opening of a conversation, and as the language of hourly and daily salutation, are certainly useful. They are indications of good and friendly feeling; and without them we should not, and could not, secure the confidence of some of those among whom we are obliged to live. They would regard us as not only unsocial, but selfish; and not only selfish, but proud or misanthropic.
On account of meeting with much that disgusts us, many are tempted to avoid society generally. The frivolous conversation, and still more frivolous conduct, which they meet with, they regard as a waste of time, and perhaps even deem it a duty to resign themselves to solitude. This, however, is a great mistake. Those who have been most useful to mankind acted very differently. They mingled with the world, in hopes to do something towards reforming it. The greatest of philosophers, as well as of Christians;—even the FOUNDER of Christianity himself—sat down, and not only sat down, but ate and drank in the society of those with whose manners, and especially whose vices, he could have had no possible sympathy.
Zimmerman, who has generally been regarded as an apostle of solitude, taught that men ought not to 'reside in deserts, or sleep, like owls, in the hollow trunks of trees.' 'I sincerely exhort my disciples,' says he, 'not to absent themselves morosely from public places, nor to avoid the social throng; which cannot fail to afford to judicious, rational, and feeling minds, many subjects both of amusement and instruction. It is true, that we cannot relish the pleasures and taste the advantages of society, without being able to give a patient hearing to the tongue of folly, to excuse error, and to bear with infirmity.'
In like manner, we are not to disregard wholly, our dress. It is true that the shape of a hat, or the cut of a coat may not add to the strength of the mind, or the soundness of the morals; but it is also true that people form an opinion often from our exterior appearance; and will continue to do so: and first impressions are very difficult to be overcome. If we regard our own usefulness, therefore, we shall not consider the fashion or character of our dress as a little thing in its results. I have said elsewhere that we ought neither to be the first nor the last in a fashion.
We should remember, also, that the world, in its various parts and aspects, is made up of little things. So true is this, that I have sometimes been very fond of the paradoxical remark, that 'little things are great things;' that is, in their results. For who does not know that throughout the physical world, the mightiest results are brought about by the silent working of small causes? It is not the tornado, or the deluge, or even the occasional storm of rain, that renews and animates nature, so much as the gentle breeze, the soft refreshing shower, and the still softer and gentler dews of heaven.
So in human life, generally, they are the little things often, that produce the mightier results. It is he who takes care of pence and farthings, not he who neglects them, that thrives. It is he alone who guards his lips against the first improper word,—trifling as it may seem—that is secure against future profanity. He who indulges one little draught of alcoholic drink, is in danger of ending a tippler; he who gives loose to one impure thought, of ending the victim of lust and sensuality. Nor is it one single gross, or as it were accidental act, viewed as insulated from the rest—however injurious it may be—that injures the body, or debases the mind, so much as the frequent repetition of those smaller errors, whose habitual occurrence goes to establish the predominating choice of the mind, or affection of the soul.
Avoid then, the pernicious, the fatal error, that little things are of no consequence: little sums of money, little fragments of time, little or trifling words, little or apparently unimportant actions. On this subject I cannot help adopting—and feeling its force too,—the language of a friend of temperance in regard to those who think themselves perfectly secure from danger, and are believers in the harmlessness of little things. 'I tremble,' said he, 'for the man that does not tremble for himself.'
SECTION XVII. Of Anger, and the means of restraining it.
There is doubtless much difference of native temperament. One person is easily excited, another, more slowly. But there is a greater difference still, resulting from our habits.
If we find ourselves easily led into anger, we should be extremely careful how we indulge the first steps that lead towards it. Those who naturally possess a mild temper may, with considerable safety, do and say many things which others cannot. Thus we often say of a person who has met with a misfortune, 'It is good enough for him;' or of a criminal who has just been condemned to suffer punishment, 'No matter; he deserves it.' Or perhaps we go farther, and on finding him acquitted, say, 'He ought to have been hanged, and even hanging was too good for him.'
Now all these things, in the mouths of the irritable, lead the way to an indulgence of anger, however unperceived may be the transition. It is on this principle that the saying of St. John is so strikingly true; 'He that hateth his brother is a murderer;' that is, he that indulges hatred has the seeds within him, not only of out-breaking anger, but of murder.
It is on this account that I regret the common course taken with children in relation to certain smaller tribes of the animal creation. They are allowed not only to destroy them,—(which is doubtless often a duty,) but to destroy them in anger; to indulge a permanent hatred towards them; and to think this hatred creditable and scriptural. When such feelings lead us to destroy even the most troublesome or disgusting reptiles or insects in anger, we have so far prepared the way for the indulgence of anger towards our fellow creatures, whenever their conduct shall excite our displeasure.
We can hence see why he who has a violent temper should always speak in a low voice, and study mildness and sweetness in his tones. For loud, impassioned, and boisterous tones certainly excite impassioned feelings. So do all the actions which indicate anger. Thus Dr. Darwin has said that any individual, by using the language and actions of an angry person, towards an imaginary object of displeasure, and accompanying them by threats, and blows, with a doubled or clinched fist, may easily work himself into a rage. Of the justice of this opinion I am fully convinced, from actual and repeated experiments.
If we find ourselves apt to be angry, we should endeavor to avoid the road which leads to it. The first thing to be done, is to govern our voice. On this point, the story of the Quaker and the merchant may not be uninstructive.
A merchant in London had a dispute with a Quaker gentleman about the settlement of an account. The merchant was determined to bring the action into court,—a course of proceeding to which the Quaker was wholly opposed;—he therefore used every argument in his power to convince the merchant of his error; but all to no purpose.
Desirous of making a final effort, however, the Quaker called at the house of the merchant, one morning, and inquired of the servant if his master was at home. The merchant hearing the inquiry from the top of the stairs, and knowing the voice, called out, loudly, 'Tell that rascal I am not at home.' The Quaker, looking up towards him, said calmly; 'Well, friend, may God put thee in a better mind.'
The merchant was struck with the meekness of the reply, and after thinking more deliberately of the matter, became convinced that the Quaker was right, and he in the wrong. He requested to see him, and after acknowledging his error, said, 'I have one question to ask you. How were you able to bear my abuse with so much patience?'
'Friend,' replied the Quaker, 'I will tell thee. I was naturally as hot and violent as thou art. But I knew that to indulge my temper was sinful, and also very foolish. I observed that men in a passion always spoke very loud; and I thought if I could control my voice, I should keep down my passions. I therefore made it a rule never to let it rise above a certain key; and by a careful observance of this rule, I have, with the blessing of God, entirely mastered my natural temper.'
When you are tempted by the conduct of those around you, to be angry, endeavor to consider the matter for a few moments. If your temper be so impetuous that you find this highly difficult, you may adopt some plan or device for gaining time. Some recommend counting twenty or thirty, deliberately. The following anecdote of the celebrated Zimmerman is exactly in point, and may afford useful hints for instruction.
Owing in part to a diseased state of body, Zimmerman was sometimes irritable. One day, a Russian princess and several other ladies entered his apartment to inquire after his health; when, in a fit of petulance, he rose, and requested them to leave the room. The prince entered some time afterward, when Zimmerman had begun to repent of his rashness, and after some intervening conversation, advised him, whenever he felt a disposition to treat his friends so uncivilly again, to repeat, mentally, the Lord's prayer. This advice was followed, and with success. Not long afterward the same prince came to him for advice in regard to the best manner of controlling the violence of those transports of affection towards his young and amiable consort, in which young and happy lovers are so apt to indulge. 'My dear friend,' said Zimmerman, 'there is no expedient which can surpass your own. Whenever you feel yourself overborne by passion, you have only to repeat the Lord's prayer, and you will be able to reduce it to a steady and permanent flame.'
By adopting Zimmerman's rule, we shall, as I have already observed, gain time for reflection, than which nothing more is needed. For if the cause of anger be a report, for example, of injury done to us by an absent person, either in words or deeds, how do we know the report is true? Or it may be only partly true; and how do we know, till we consider the matter well, whether it is worth our anger at all? Or if at all, perhaps it deserves but a little of it. It may be, too, that the person who said or did the thing reported, did it by mistake, or is already sorry for it. At all events, nothing can be gained by haste; much may be by delay.
If a passionate person give you ill language, you ought rather to pity than be angry with him, for anger is a species of disease. And to correct one evil, will you make another? If his being angry is an evil, will it mend the matter to make another evil, by indulging in passion yourself? Will it cure his disease, to throw yourself into the same distemper? But if not, then how foolish is it to indulge improper feelings at all!
On the same principles, and for the same reasons, you should avoid returning railing for railing; or reviling for reproach. It only kindles the more heat. Besides, you will often find silence, or at least very gentle words, as in the case of the Quaker just mentioned, the best return for reproaches which could be devised. I say the best 'return;' but I would not be understood as justifying any species of revenge. The kind of return here spoken of is precisely that treatment which will be most likely to cure the distemper in the other, by making him see, and be sorry for, his passion.
If the views taken in this section be true, it is easy to see the consummate folly of all violence, whether between individuals or collective bodies, whether it be by striking, duelling, or war. For if an individual or a nation has done wrong, will it annihilate that wrong to counteract it by another wrong? Is it not obvious that it only makes two evils, where but one existed before? And can two wrongs ever make one right action? Which is the most rational, when the choice is in our power, to add to one existing evil, another of similar or greater magnitude; or to keep quiet, and let the world have but one cup of misery instead of two?
Besides, the language of Scripture is every where full and decided on this point. 'Recompense to no man evil for evil,' and 'wo to him by whom the offence cometh,' though found but once or twice in just so many words, are in fact, some of the more prominent doctrines of the New Testament; and I very much doubt whether you can read many pages, in succession, in any part of the bible, without finding this great principle enforced. The daily example of the Saviour, and the apostles and early Christians, is a full confirmation of it, in practice.
CHAPTER II.
On the Management of Business.
SECTION I. On commencing Business.
Young men are usually in haste to commence business for themselves. This is an evil, and one which appears to me to be increasing. Let me caution my readers to be on their guard against it.
The evils of running in debt will be adverted to elsewhere. I mention the subject in this place, because the earlier you commence business, the greater the necessity of resorting to credit. You may, indeed, in some employments, begin on a very small scale; but this is attended with serious disadvantages, especially at the present day, when you must meet with so much competition. Perhaps a few may be furnished with capital by their friends, or by inheritance. In the latter case they may as well use their money, if they receive it; but I have already endeavored to show that it is generally for the interest of young men to rely upon their own exertions. It is extremely difficult for a person who has ever relied on others, to act with the same energy as those who have been thrown upon their own resources.[4] To learn the art of inheriting property or receiving large gifts, and of acting with the same energy as if left wholly to our own resources, must be reserved, I believe, for future and wiser generations of our race.
I repeat it, therefore, every person had better defer going into business for himself, until he can stand entirely on his own footing. Is it asked how he can have funds from his own resources, before he has actually commenced business for himself? Why the thing is perfectly easy. He has only to labor a few years in the service of another. True it is, he may receive but moderate wages during this time; but on the other hand, he will be subjected to little or no risk.
Let 1,000 young men, at the age of 30 years, enter into business with a given amount of capital, all acquired by their own hard earnings, and let them pursue their business 30 years faithfully; that is, till they are 60 years of age. Let 1,000 others commence at the age of 20, with three times the amount of capital possessed by the former, but at the same time either inherited, or loaned by their friends, and let them pursue their calling till they are 60 years of age; or for a period of 40 years. We will suppose the natural talents, capacity for doing business, and expenditures—in fact every thing,—the same, in both cases. Now it requires no gift of prophecy to foretell, with certainty, that at 60 years of age a far greater proportion of the 1,000, who began at 30 and depended solely on their own exertions, will be men of wealth, than of those who began at 20 with three times their capital. The reason of these results is found in the very nature of things, as I have shown both above, and in my remarks on industry.
But these views are borne out by facts. Go into any city in the United States, and learn the history of the men who are engaged in active and profitable business, and are thriving in the world, and my word for it, you will find the far greater part began life with nothing, and have had no resources whatever but their own head and hands. And in no city is this fact more strikingly verified than in Boston. On the other hand, if you make a list of those who fail in business from year to year, and learn their history, you will find that a very large proportion of them relied on inheritances, credit, or some kind of foreign aid in early life;—and not a few begun very young.
There is no doctrine in this volume, which will be more unpopular with its readers, than this. Not a few will, I fear, utterly disbelieve it. They look at the exterior appearance of some young friend, a little older than themselves, who has been lifted into business and gone on a year or two, and all appears fair and encouraging. They long to imitate him. Point them to a dozen others who have gone only a little farther, and have made shipwreck, and it weighs nothing or next to nothing with them. They suspect mismanagement, (which doubtless sometimes exists) and think they shall act more wisely.
In almost every considerable shop in this country may be found young men who have nearly served out their time as apprentices, or perhaps have gone a little farther, even, and worked a year or two as journeymen. They have been industrious and frugal, and have saved a few hundred dollars. This, on the known principles of human nature, has created a strong desire to make additions; and the desire has increased in a greater ratio than the sum. They are good workmen, perhaps, or if not, they generally think so; and those who have the least merit, generally have the most confidence in themselves. But if there be one who has merit, there is usually in the neighborhood some hawk-eyed money dealer, who knows that he cannot better invest his funds than in the hands of active young men. This man will search him out, and offer to set him up in business; and his friends, pleased to have him noticed, give security for payment. Thus flattered, he commonly begins; and after long patience and perseverance, he may, by chance, succeed. But a much greater number are unsuccessful, and a few drown their cares and perplexities in the poisoned bowl, or in debauchery;—perhaps both—thus destroying their minds and souls; or, it may be, abruptly putting an end to their own existence.
Young men are apt to reason thus with themselves. 'I am now arrived at an age when others have commenced business and succeeded. It is true I may not succeed; but I know of no reason why my prospects are not as good as those of A, B, and C, to say the least. I am certainly as good a workman, and know as well how to manage, and attend to my own concerns, without intermeddling with those of others. It is true my friends advise me to work as a journeyman a few years longer; but it is a hard way of living. Besides, what shall I learn all this while, that I do not already know? They say I shall be improving in the practical part of my business, if not in the theory of it. But shall I not improve while I work for myself? Suppose I make blunders. Have not others done the same? If I fall, I must get up again. Perhaps it will teach me not to stumble again. The fact is, old people never think the young know or can do any thing till they are forty years old. I am determined to make an effort. A good opportunity offers, and such a one may never again occur. I am confident I shall succeed.'
How often have I heard this train of reasoning pursued! But if it were correct, how happens it that those facts exist which have just been mentioned? More than this; why do almost all men assert gratuitously after they have spent twenty years in their avocation, that although they thought themselves wise when they began their profession, they were exceedingly ignorant? Who ever met with a man that did not feel this ignorance more sensibly after twenty years of experience, than when he first commenced?
This self flattery and self confidence—this ambition to be men of business and begin to figure in the world,—is not confined to any particular occupation or profession of men, but is found in all. Nor is it confined to those whose object in life is pecuniary emolument. It is perhaps equally common among those who seek their happiness in ameliorating the condition of mankind by legislating for them, settling their quarrels, soothing their passions, or curing the maladies of their souls and bodies.
Perhaps the evil is not more glaring in any class of the community than in the medical profession. There is a strong temptation to this, in the facility with which licenses and diplomas may be obtained. Any young man who has common sense, if he can read and write tolerably, may in some of the States, become a knight of the lancet in three years, and follow another employment a considerable part of the time besides. He has only to devote some of his extra hours to the study of anatomy, surgery, and medicine, recite occasionally to a practitioner, as ignorant, almost, as himself; hear one series of medical lectures; and procure certificates that he has studied medicine 'three years,' including the time of the lectures; and he will be licensed, almost of course. Then he sallies forth to commit depredations on society at discretion; and how many he kills is unknown. 'I take it for granted, however,' said a President of a College, three years ago, who understood this matter pretty well, 'that every half-educated young physician, who succeeds at last in getting a reputable share of practice, must have rid the world, rather prematurely, of some dozen or twenty individuals, at the least, in order to qualify himself for the profession.'
The evil is scarcely more tolerable, as regards young ministers, except that the community in general have better means of knowing when they are imposed upon by ignorance or quackery in this matter, than in most other professions. The principal book for a student of theology is in the hands of every individual, and he is taught to read and understand it. The great evil which arises to students of divinity themselves from entering their profession too early, is the loss of health. Neither the minds nor the bodies of young men are equal to the responsibilities of this, or indeed of any other profession or occupation, at 20, and rarely at 25. Nothing is more evident than that young men, generally, are losers in the end, both in a pecuniary point of view and in regard to health, by commencing business before 30 years of age. But this I have already attempted to show.
As regards candidates for the ministry, several eminent divines are beginning to inculcate the opinion, with great earnestness, that to enter fully upon the active duties of this laborious vocation before the age I have mentioned, is injurious to themselves and to the cause they wish to promote—the cause of God. And I hope their voices will be raised louder and louder on this topic, till the note of remonstrance reaches the most distant villages of our country.
It has often occurred to me that every modest young man, whatever may be his destination, might learn wisdom from consulting the history of the YOUNG MAN OF NAZARETH as well as of the illustrious reformer who prepared the way for him.[5] Our young men, since newspapers have become so common, are apt to think themselves thoroughly versed in law, politics, divinity, &c.; and are not backward to exhibit their talents. But who is abler at disputation than HE who at twelve years of age proved a match for the learned doctors of law at Jerusalem? Did he, whose mind was so mature at twelve, enter upon the duties of his ministry (a task more arduous than has ever fallen to the lot of any human being) at 18 or 20 years of age? But why not, when he had so much to do?—Or did he wait till he was in his 30th year?
The great question with every young man should not be, When can I get such assistance as will enable me to commence business;—but, Am I well qualified to commence? Perfect in his profession, absolutely so, no man ever will be; but a measure of perfection which is rarely if ever attained under 30 years of age, is most certainly demanded. To learn the simplest handicraft employment in some countries, a person must serve an apprenticeship of at least seven years. Here, in America, half that time is thought by many young men an intolerable burden, and they long to throw it off. They wish for what they call a better order of things. The consequences of this feeling, and a growing spirit of insubordination, are every year becoming more and more deplorable.
[4] This fact, so obvious to every student of human nature, has sometimes given rise to an opinion that orphans make their way best in the world. So far as the business of making money is concerned, I am not sure but it is so.
[5] Even Timothy—young Timothy as he has been often called—was probably in his 30th year when he was ordained.
SECTION II. Importance of Integrity.
Every one will admit the importance of integrity in all his dealings, for however dishonest he may be himself, he cannot avoid perceiving the necessity of integrity in others. No society could exist were it not for the measure of this virtue which remains. Without a degree of confidence, in transacting business with each other, even the savage life would be a thousand times more savage than it now is. Without it, a gang of thieves or robbers could not long hold together.
But while all admit the sterling importance of strict integrity, how few practise it! Let me prevail when I entreat the young not to hazard either their reputation or peace of mind for the uncertain advantages to be derived from unfair dealing. It is madness, especially in one who is just beginning the world. It would be so, if by a single unfair act he could get a fortune; leaving the loss of the soul out of the question. For if a trader, for example, is once generally known to be guilty of fraud, or even of taking exorbitant profits, there is an end to his reputation. Bad as the world is, there is some respect paid to integrity, and wo be to him who forgets it.
If a person habitually allows himself in a single act not sanctioned by the great and golden rule of loving others as we do ourselves, he has entered a road whose everlasting progress is downward. Fraudulent in one point, he will soon be so in another—and another; and so on to the end of the chapter, if there be any end to it. At least no one who has gone a step in the downward road, can assure himself that this will not be the dreadful result.
An honest bargain is that only in which the fair market price or value of a commodity is mutually allowed, so far as this is known. The market price is usually, the equitable price of a thing. It will be the object of every honest man to render, in all cases, an equivalent for what he receives. Where the market price cannot be known, each of the parties to an honest contract will endeavor to come as near it as possible; keeping in mind the rule of doing to others as they would desire others to do to them in similar circumstances. Every bargain not formed on these principles is, in its results, unjust; and if intentional, is fraudulent.
There are a great many varieties of this species of fraud.
1. Concealing the market price. How many do this; and thus buy for less, and sell for more than a fair valuation! Why so many practise this kind of fraud, and insist at the same time that it is no fraud at all, is absolutely inconceivable, except on the supposition that they are blinded by avarice. For they perfectly know that their customers would not deal with them at any other than market prices, except from sheer ignorance; and that the advantage which they gain, is gained by misapprehension of the real value of the commodities. But can an honest man take this advantage? Would he take it of a child? Or if he did, would not persons of common sense despise him for it?
But why not as well take advantage of a child as of a man? Because, it may be answered, the child does not know the worth of what he buys or sells; but the man does, or might. But in the case specified, it is evident he does not know it, if he did he would not make the bargain. And for proof that such conduct is downright fraud, the person who commits it, has only to ask himself whether he would be willing others should take a similar advantage of his ignorance. 'I do as I agree,' is often the best excuse such men can make, when reasoned with on the injustice of their conduct, without deciding the question, whether their agreement is founded on a desire to do right.
2. Others misrepresent the market price. This is done in various ways. They heard somebody say the price in market was so or so; or such a one bought at such or such a price, or another sold at such a price: all of which prices, purchases, and sales are known positively to be different from those which generally prevail. Many contrive to satisfy their consciences in this way, who would by no means venture at once upon plain and palpable lying.
3. The selling of goods or property which is unsound and defective, under direct professions that it is sound and good, is another variety of this species of fraud. It is sometimes done by direct lying, and sometimes by indefinite and hypocritical insinuations. Agents, and retailers often assert their wares to be good, because those of whom they have received them declare them to be such. These declarations are often believed, because the seller appears or professes to believe them; while in truth, he may not give them the least credit.
One of the grossest impositions of this kind—common as it is—is practised upon the public in advertising and selling nostrums as safe and valuable medicines. These are ushered into newspapers with a long train of pompous declarations, almost always false, and always delusive. The silly purchaser buys and uses the medicine chiefly or solely because it is sold by a respectable man, under the sanction of advertisements to which that respectable man lends his countenance. Were good men to decline this wretched employment, the medicines would probably soon fall into absolute discredit; and health and limbs and life would, in many instances, be preserved from unnecessary destruction.
4. Another species of fraud consists in concealing the defects of what we sell. This is the general art and villany of that class of men, commonly called jockeys; a class which, in reality, embraces some who would startle at the thought of being such;—and whole multitudes who would receive the appellation with disdain.
The common subterfuge of the jockey is, that he gives no false accounts; that the purchaser has eyes of his own, and must judge of the goods for himself. No defence can be more lame and wretched; and hardly any more impudent.
No purchaser can possibly discover many of the defects in commodities; he is therefore obliged to depend on the seller for information concerning them. All this the seller well knows, and if an honest man, will give the information. Now as no purchaser would buy the articles, if he knew their defects, except at a reduced price, whenever the seller does not give this information, and the purchaser is taken in, it is by downright villany, whatever some may pretend to the contrary. Nor will the common plea, that if they buy a bad article, they have a right to sell it again as well as they can, ever justify the wretched practice of selling defective goods, at the full value of those which are more perfect.
5. A fraud, still meaner, is practised, when we endeavor to lower the value of such commodities as we wish to buy. 'It is naught, it is naught, says the buyer, but when he hath gone his way he boasteth,' is as applicable to our times, as to those of Solomon. The ignorant, the modest, and the necessitous—persons who should be the last to suffer from fraud,—are, in this way, often made victims. A decisive tone and confident airs, in men better dressed, and who are sometimes supposed to know better than themselves, easily bear down persons so circumstanced, and persuade them to sell their commodities for less than they are really worth.
Young shopkeepers are often the dupes of this species of treatment. Partly with a view to secure the future custom of the stranger, and partly in consequence of his statements that he can buy a similar article elsewhere at a much lower price, (when perhaps the quality of the other is vastly inferior) they not unfrequently sell goods at a positive sacrifice—and what do they gain by it? The pleasure of being laughed at by the purchaser, as soon as he is out of sight, for suffering themselves to be beaten down, as the phrase is; and of having him boast of his bargain, and trumpet abroad, without a blush, the value of the articles which he had just been decrying!
6. I mention the use of false weights and measures last, not because it is a less heinous fraud, but because I hope it is less frequently practised than many others. But it is a lamentable truth that weights and measures are sometimes used when they are known to be false; and quite often when they are suspected to be so. More frequently still, they are used when they have been permitted to become defective through inattention. They are often formed of perishable materials. To meet this there are in most of our communities, officers appointed to be sealers of weights and measures. When the latter are made of substances known to be liable to decay or wear, the proprietor is unpardonable if he does not have them frequently and thoroughly examined.
I have only adverted to some of the more common kinds of fraud; such as the young are daily, and often hourly exposed to, and against which it is especially important, not only to their own reputation, but to their success in business, that they should be on their guard. I will just enumerate a few others, for my limits preclude the possibility of any thing more than a bare enumeration.
1. Suffering borrowed articles to be injured by our negligence. 2. Detaining them in our possession longer than the lender had reason to expect. 3. Employing them for purposes not contemplated by the lender. 4. The returning of an article of inferior value, although in appearance like that which was borrowed. 5. Passing suspected bank bills, or depreciated counterfeit or clipped coin. Some persons are so conscientious on this point, that they will sell a clipped piece for old metal, rather than pass it. But such rigid honesty is rather rare. 6. The use of pocket money, by the young, in a manner different from that which was known to be contemplated by the parent, or master who furnished it. 7. The employment of time in a different manner from what was intended; the mutilating, by hacking, breaking, soiling, or in any other manner wantonly injuring buildings, fences, and other property, public or private;—and especially crops and fruit trees. 8. Contracting debts, though ever so small, without the almost certain prospect of being able to pay them. 9. Neglecting to pay them at the time expected. 10. Paying in something of less value than we ought. 11. Breaches of trust. 12. Breaking of promises. 13. Overtrading by means of borrowed capital.
SECTION III. Method in Business.
There is one class of men who are of inestimable value to society—and the more so from their scarcity;—I mean men of business. It is true you could hardly offer a greater insult to most persons than to say they are not of this class; but you cannot have been very observing not to have learned, that they who most deserve the charge will think themselves the most insulted by it.
Nothing contributes more to despatch, as well as safety and success in business, than method and regularity. Let a person set down in his memorandum book, every morning, the several articles of business that ought to be done during the day; and beginning with the first person he is to call upon, or the first place he is to go to, finish that affair, if possible, before he begins another; and so on with the rest.
A man of business, who observes this method, will hardly ever find himself hurried or disconcerted by forgetfulness. And he who sets down all his transactions in writing, and keeps his accounts, and the whole state of his affairs, in a distinct and accurate order, so that at any time, by looking into his books, he can see in what condition his concerns are, and whether he is in a thriving or declining way;—such a one, I say, deserves properly the character of a man of business; and has a pretty fair prospect of success in his plans.[6] But such exactness seldom suits the man of pleasure. He has other things in his head.
The way to transact a great deal of business in a little time, and to do it well, is to observe three rules. 1. Speak to the point. 2. Use no more words than are necessary, fully to express your meaning. 3. Study beforehand, and set down in writing afterwards, a sketch of the transaction.
To enable a person to speak to the point, he must have acquired, as one essential pre-requisite, the art of thinking to the point. To effect these objects, or rather this object, as they constitute in reality but one, is the legitimate end of the study of grammar; of the importance of which I am to speak elsewhere. This branch is almost equally indispensable in following the other two rules; but here, a thorough knowledge of numbers, as well as of language, will be demanded.
[6] A gentleman of my acquaintance assures me that he always leaves his books, accounts, &c., in so complete a state, on going to bed, that if he should die during the night, every thing could be perfectly understood. This rule he adheres to, as a matter of duty; not only to his fellow men, but to God.
SECTION IV. Application to Business.
There is one piece of prudence, above all others, absolutely necessary to those who expect to raise themselves in the world by an employment of any kind; I mean a constant, unwearied application to the main pursuit. By means of persevering diligence, joined to frugality, we see many people in the lowest and most laborious stations in life, raise themselves to such circumstances as will allow them, in their old age, that relief from excessive anxiety and toil which are necessary to make the decline of life easy and comfortable.
Burgh mentions a merchant, who, at first setting out, opened and shut his shop every day for several weeks together, without selling goods to the value of two cents; who by the force of application for a course of years, rose, at last, to a handsome fortune. But I have known many who had a variety of opportunities for settling themselves comfortably in the world, yet, for want of steadiness to carry any scheme to perfection, they sunk from one degree of wretchedness to another for many years together, without the least hopes of ever getting above distress and pinching want.
There is hardly an employment in life so trifling that it will not afford a subsistence, if constantly and faithfully followed. Indeed, it is by indefatigable diligence alone, that a fortune can be acquired in any business whatever. An estate procured by what is commonly called a lucky hit, is a rare instance; and he who expects to have his fortune made in that way, is about as rational as he who should neglect all probable means of earning, in hopes that he should some time or other find a treasure.
There is no such thing as continuing in the same condition without an income of some kind or other. If a man does not bestir himself, poverty must, sooner or later, overtake him. If he continues to expend for the necessary charges of life, and will not take the pains to gain something to supply the place of what he deals out, his funds must at length come to an end; and the misery of poverty fall upon him at an age when he is less able to grapple with it.
No employment that is really useful to mankind deserves to be regarded as mean. This has been a stumbling stone to many young men. Because they could not pursue a course which they deemed sufficiently respectable, they neglected business altogether until so late in life that they were ashamed to make a beginning. A most fatal mistake. Pin making is a minute affair, but will any one call the employment a mean one? If so, it is one which the whole civilized world encourage, and to which they are under lasting obligation daily. Any useful business ought to be reputable, which is reputably followed.
The character of a drone is always, especially among the human species, one of the most contemptible. In proportion to a person's activity for his own good and that of his fellow creatures, he is to be regarded as a more or less valuable member of society. If all the idle people in the United States were to be buried in one year, the loss would be trifling in comparison with the loss of only a very few industrious people. Each moment of time ought to be put to proper use, either in business, in improving the mind, in the innocent and necessary relaxations and entertainments of life, or in the care of the moral and religious part of our nature. Each moment of time is, in the language of theology, a monument of Divine mercy.
SECTION V. Proper Time of Doing Business.
There are times and seasons for every lawful purpose of life, and a very material part of prudence is to judge rightly, and make the best of them. If you have to deal, for example, with a phlegmatic gloomy man, take him, if you can, over his bottle. This advice may seem, at first view, to give countenance to a species of fraud: but is it so? These hypochondriacal people have their fits and starts, and if you do not take them when they are in an agreeable state of mind, you are very likely to find them quite as much below par, as the bottle raises them above. But if you deal with them in this condition, they are no more themselves than in the former case. I therefore think the advice correct. It is on the same principles, and in the same belief, that I would advise you, when you deal with a covetous man, to propose your business to him immediately after he has been receiving, rather than expending money. So if you have to do with a drunkard, call on him in the morning; for then, if ever, his head is clear.
Again; if you know a person to be unhappy in his family, meet him abroad if possible, rather than at his own house. A statesman will not be likely to give you a favorable reception immediately after being disappointed in some of his schemes. Some people are always sour and ill humored from the hour of rising till they have dined.
And as in persons, so in things, the time is a matter of great consequence; an eye to the rise and fall of goods; the favorable season of importing and exporting;—these are some of the things which require the attention of those who expect any considerable share of success.
It is not certain but some dishonest person, under shelter of the rule, in this chapter, may gratify a wish to take unfair advantages of those with whom he deals. But I hope otherwise; for I should be sorry to give countenance, for one moment, to such conduct. My whole purpose (in this place) is to give direction to the young for securing their own rights; not for taking away the rights of others. The man who loves his neighbor as himself, will not surely put a wrong construction on what I have written. I would fain hope that there is no departure here or elsewhere, in the book, from sound christian morality; for it is the bible, on which I wish to see all moral rules based.
SECTION VI. Buying upon Trust.
'Owe no man any thing,' is an apostolic injunction; and happy is he who has it in his power to obey. In my own opinion, most young men possess this power, did they perceive the importance of using it by commencing right. It is not so difficult a thing always to purchase with ready money, as many people imagine. The great difficulty is to moderate our desires and diminish our wants within bounds proportioned to our income. We can expend much, or live on little; and this, too, without descending to absolute penury. It is truly surprising to observe how people in similar rank, condition, and circumstances, contrive to expend so very differently. I have known instances of young men who would thrive on an income which would not more than half support their neighbors in circumstances evidently similar.
Study therefore to live within your income. To this end you must calculate. But here you will be obliged to learn much from personal experience, dear as her school is, unless you are willing to learn from that of others. If, for example, your income is $600 a year, and you sit down at the commencement of the year and calculate on expending $400, and saving the remainder, you will be very liable to fail in your calculation. But if you call in the experience of wiser heads who have travelled the road of life before you, they will tell you that after you have made every reasonable allowance for necessary expenses during the year, and believe yourself able to lay up $200, you will not, once in ten times, be able to save more than two thirds of that sum—and this, too, without any sickness or casualty.
It is an important point never to buy what you do not want. Many people buy an article merely because it is cheap, and they can have credit. It is true they imagine they shall want it at some future time, or can sell it again to advantage. But they would not buy at present, if it cost them cash, from their pockets. The mischief is that when the day of payment is distant, the cost seems more trifling than it really is. Franklin's advice is in point; 'Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries;'—and such persons would do well to remember it.
The difference between credit and ready money is very great. Innumerable things are not bought at all with ready money, which would be bought in case of trust; so much easier, is it, to order a thing than to pay for it. A future day, a day of payment must come, to be sure; but that is little thought of at the time. But if the money were to be drawn out the moment the thing was received or offered, these questions would arise; Can I not do without it? Is it indispensable? And if I do not buy it, shall I suffer a loss or injury greater in amount than the cost of the thing? If these questions were put, every time we make a purchase, we should seldom hear of those suicides which disgrace this country, and the old world still more.
I am aware that it will be said, and very truly, that the concerns of merchants, the purchasing of great estates, and various other large transactions, cannot be carried on in this manner; but these are rare exceptions to the rule. And even in these cases, there might be much less of bills and bonds, and all the sources of litigation, than there now is. But in the every day business of life, in transactions with the butcher, the baker, the tailor, the shoemaker, what excuse can there be for pleading the example of the merchant, who carries on his work by ships and exchanges?
A certain young man, on being requested to keep an account of all he received and expended, answered that his business was not to keep account books: that he was sure not to make a mistake as to his income; and that as to his expenditure, the purse that held his money, would be an infallible guide, for he never bought any thing that he did not immediately pay for. I do not mean to recommend to young men not to keep written accounts, for as the world is, I deem it indispensable.
Few, it is believed, will deny that they generally pay, for the same article, a fourth part more, in the case of trust, than in that of ready money. Suppose now, the baker, butcher, tailor, and shoemaker, receive from you $400 a year. Now, if you multiply the $100 you lose, by not paying ready money, by 20, you will find that at the end of twenty years, you have a loss of $2,000, besides the accumulated interest.
The fathers of the English church, forbade selling on trust at a higher price than for ready money, which was the same thing in effect as to forbid trust; and this was doubtless one of the great objects those wise and pious men had in view; for they were fathers in legislation and morals, as well as in religion. But we of the present age, seem to have grown wiser than they, and not only make a difference in the price, regulated by the difference in the mode of payment, but no one is expected to do otherwise. We are not only allowed to charge something for the use of the money, but something additional for the risk of the loss which may frequently arise,—and most frequently does arise—from the misfortunes of those to whom we thus assign our goods on trust.
The man, therefore, who purchases on trust, not only pays for being credited, but he also pays his share of what the tradesman loses by his general practice of selling upon trust; and after all, he is not so good a customer as the man who purchases cheaply with ready money. His name, indeed, is in the tradesman's book, but with that name the tradesman cannot buy a fresh supply of goods.
Infinite, almost, are the ways in which people lose by this sort of dealing. Domestics sometimes go and order things not wanted at all; at other times more than is wanted. All this would be obviated by purchasing with ready money; for whether through the hands of the party himself, or those of some other person, there would always be an actual counting out of the money. Somebody would see the thing bought, and the money paid. And as the master would give the steward or housekeeper a purse of money at the time, he would see the money too, would set a proper value upon it, and would just desire to know upon what it had been expended.
Every man, who purchases for ready money, will naturally make the amount of the purchase as low as possible, in proportion to his means. This care and frugality will make an addition to his means; and therefore, at the end of his life, he will have a great deal more to spend, and still be as rich as if he had been trusted all his days. In addition to this, he will eat, and drink, and sleep in peace, and avoid all the endless papers, and writings, and receipts, and bills, and disputes, and lawsuits, inseparable from the credit system.
This is by no means intended as a lesson of stinginess, nor is it any part of my purpose to inculcate the plan of heaping up money. But purchasing with ready money really gives you more money to purchase with; you can afford to have a greater quantity and variety of enjoyments. In the town, it will tend to hasten your pace along the streets, for the temptation at the windows is answered in a moment by clapping your hand upon your pocket; and the question; 'Do I really want it?' is sure to recur immediately; because the touch of the money will put the thought into your mind.
Now supposing you to have a fortune, even beyond your actual wants, would not the money which you might save in this way, be very well applied in acts of real benevolence? Can you walk or ride a mile, in the city or country, or go to half a dozen houses; or in fact can you open your eyes without seeing some human being, born in the same country with yourself, and who, on that account alone, has some claim upon your good wishes and your charity? Can you, if you would, avoid seeing one person, if no more, to whom even a small portion of your annual savings would convey gladness of heart? Your own feelings will suggest the answer.
SECTION VII. Of entrusting Business to others.
'If you wish to have your business done, go; if not, send.' This is an old maxim; and one which is no less true than old. Every young man, on setting out in the world, should make it a rule, never to trust any thing of consequence to another, which he can, without too much difficulty, perform himself.
1. Because, let a person have my interest ever so much at heart, I am sure I regard it more myself.
2. Nothing is more difficult than to know, in all cases, the characters of those we confide in. How can we expect to understand the characters of others, when we scarcely know our own? Which of us can know, positively, that he shall never be guilty of another vice or weakness, or yield to another temptation, and thus forfeit public confidence? Who, then, will needlessly trust another, when he can hardly be sure of himself?
3. No substitute we can employ, can understand our business as well as ourselves.
4. We can change our measures according to changing circumstances; which gives us those opportunities of doing things in the best way, of which another will not feel justified in availing himself.
As for dependants of every kind, it should ever be remembered that their master's interest sometimes possesses only the second place in their hearts. Self-love, with such, will be the ruling principle of action; and no fidelity whatever will prevent a person from bestowing a good deal of thought upon his own concerns. But this must, of necessity, break in more or less upon his diligence in consulting the interest of his employers. How men of business can venture, as they sometimes do, to trust concerns of great importance, for half of every week in the year, (which is half the whole year) to dependants, and thus expect others to take care of their business, when they will not be at the trouble of minding it themselves, is to me inconceivable! Nor does the detection, from time to time, of fraud in such persons, seem at all to diminish this practice.
There is a maxim among business people, 'never to do that for themselves which they can pay another for doing.' This, though true to a certain extent, is liable to abuse. If every body, without discrimination, could be safely trusted, the maxim might be more just; since nothing is more obvious than that laborers are often at hand, whose time can be bought for a much less sum of money than you would yourself earn in the meantime. I have often known people make or mend little pieces of furniture, implements of their occupations, &c. to save expense, when they could have earned, at their labor during the same time, twice the sum necessary to pay a trusty and excellent workman for doing it.
But, as I have already observed, persons are not always at hand, in whom you can confide; so that the certainty of having a thing done right, is worth much more than the loss of a little time. Besides, God has never said how much we must do in this world. We are indeed to do all we can, and at the same time do it well; but how much that is, we must judge. He is not necessarily the most useful man who does even the greatest amount of good;—but he who does the most good, attended with the least evil.
But we should remember that what others do, is not done by ourselves. Still, an individual may often do many little things without any hindrance to his main object. For example, I would not thank a person to make or mend my pen, or shave me; because I can write as much, or perform as much business of any kind, in a week or month—probably more—if I stop to mend my pens, shave myself daily, make fires, saw and split wood, &c. as if I do not. And the same is true of a thousand other things.
SECTION VIII. Over Trading.
I have already classed this among the frauds into which business men are in danger of falling; and I cannot but think its character will be pretty well established by what follows.
Over trading is an error into which many industrious, and active young men are apt to run, from a desire of getting rich more rapidly than they are able to do with a smaller business. And yet profusion itself is not more dangerous. Indeed, I question whether idleness brings more people to ruin than over trading.
This subject is intimately connected with credit, for it is the credit system that gives such facilities to over trading. But of the evils of credit I have treated fully elsewhere I will only add, under this head, a few remarks on one particular species of trading. I refer to the conduct of many persons, with large capitals, who, for the sake of adding to a heap already too large, monopolize the market,—or trade for a profit which they know dealers of smaller fortunes cannot possibly live by. If such men really think that raising themselves on the ruin of others, in this manner, is justifiable, and that riches obtained in this manner are fairly earned, they must certainly have either neglected to inform themselves, or stifled the remonstrances of conscience, and bid defiance to the laws of God.
SECTION IX. Making Contracts beforehand.
In making bargains—with workmen, for example—always do it beforehand, and never suffer the matter to be deferred by their saying they will leave it to your discretion.
There are several reasons why this ought to be done. 1st. It prevents any difficulty afterward; and does no harm, even when the intentions of both parties are perfectly good. 2d. If you are dealing with a knave, it prevents him from accomplishing any evil designs he may have upon you. 3d. Young people are apt to be deceived by appearances, both from a credulity common to their youth and inexperience, and because neither the young nor the old have any certain method of knowing human character by externals. The most open hearted are the most liable to be imposed upon by the designing.
It will be well to have all your business—of course all contracts—as far as may be practicable, in writing. And it would be well if men of business would make it a constant rule, whenever and wherever it is possible, to draw up a minute or memorial of every transaction, subscribed by both, with a clause signifying that in case of any difference, they would submit the matter to arbitration.
Nothing is more common than for a designing person to put off the individual he wishes to take advantage of, by saying; We shan't disagree. I'll do what's right about it; I won't wrong you, &c. And then when accounts come to be settled, and the party who thinks himself aggrieved, says that he made the bargain with the expectation of having such and such advantages allowed him, No, says the sharper, I never told you any such thing.
It is on this account that you cannot be too exact in making contracts; nor is there indeed any safety in dealing with deceitful and avaricious people, after you have taken all the precaution in your power.
SECTION X. How to know with whom to deal.
There are two maxims in common life that seem to clash with each other, most pointedly. The first is, 'Use every precaution with a stranger, that you would wish you had done, should he turn out to be a villain;' and secondly, 'Treat every man as an honest man, until he proves to be otherwise.'
Now there is good advice in both these maxims. By this I mean that they may both be observed, to a certain extent, without interfering with each other. You may be cautious about hastily becoming acquainted with a stranger, and yet so far as you have any concern with him, treat him like an honest man. No reasonable person will complain if you do not unbosom yourself to him at once. And if he is unreasonable, you will not wish for an intimate acquaintance with him.
My present purpose is to offer a few hints, with a view to assist you in judging of the characters of those with whom it may be your lot to deal. Remember, however, that like all things human, they are imperfect. All I can say is that they are the best I can offer.
There is something in knavery that will hardly bear the inspection of a piercing eye; and you may, more generally, observe in a sharper an unsteady and confused look. If a person is persuaded of the uncommon sagacity of one before whom he is to appear, he will hardly succeed in mustering impudence and artifice enough to bear him through without faltering. It will, therefore, be a good way to try one whom you have reason to suspect of a design upon you, by fixing your eyes upon his, and bringing up a supposition of your having to do with one whose integrity you suspected; stating what you would do in such a case. If the person you are talking with be really what you expect, he will hardly be able to keep his countenance.
It will be a safe rule,—though doubtless there are exceptions to it,—to take mankind to be more or less avaricious. Yet a great love of money is a great enemy to honesty. The aged are, in this respect, more dangerous than the young. It will be your wisdom ever to be cautious of aged avarice; and especially of those who, in an affected and forced manner, bring in religion, and talk much of duty on all occasions; of all smooth and fawning people; of those who are very talkative, and who, in dealing with you, endeavor to draw off your attention from the point in hand by incoherent or random expressions.
I have already advised you how to proceed with those of whom you have good reason to be suspicious. But by all means avoid entertaining unnecessary suspicions of your fellow beings; for it will usually render both you and them the more miserable. It is often owing to a consciousness of a designing temper, in ourselves, that we are led to suspect others.
If you hear a person boasting of having got a remarkably good bargain, you may generally conclude him by no means too honest; for almost always where one gains much in a bargain, the other loses. I know well that cases occur where both parties are gainers, but not greatly so. And when you hear a man triumph in gaining by another's loss, you may easily judge of his character.
Let me warn you against the sanguine promisers. Of these there are two sorts. The first are those who from a foolish custom of fawning upon all those whom they meet with in company, have acquired a habit of promising great favors which they have no idea of performing. The second are a sort of warm hearted people, who while they lavish their promises have some thoughts of performing them; but when the time comes, and the sanguine fit is worn off, the trouble or expense appears in another light; the promiser cools, and the expectant is disappointed.
Be cautious of dealing with an avaricious and cruel man, for if it should happen by an unlucky turn of trade that you should come into the power of such a person, you have nothing to expect but the utmost rigor of the law.
In negotiating, there are a number of circumstances to be considered; the neglect of any of which may defeat your whole scheme. These will be mentioned in the next section.
SECTION XI. How to take Men as they are.
Such a knowledge of human character as will enable us to treat mankind according to their dispositions, circumstances, and modes of thinking, so as to secure their aid in all our laudable purposes, is absolutely indispensable. And while all men boast of their knowledge of human nature, and would rather be thought ignorant of almost every thing else than this, how obvious it is that there is nothing in regard to which there exists so much ignorance!
A miser is by no means a proper person to apply to for a favor that will cost him any thing. But if he chance to be a man of principle, he may make an excellent partner in trade, or arbitrator in a dispute about property; for he will have patience to investigate little things, and to stand about trifles, which a generous man would scorn. Still, as an honest man, and above all as a Christian, I doubt whether it would be quite right thus to derive advantage from the vices of another. In employing the miser, you give scope to his particular vice.
A passionate man will fly into a rage at the most trifling affront, but he will generally forget it nearly as soon, and be glad to do any thing in his power to make up with you. It is not therefore so dangerous to disoblige him, as the gloomy, sullen mortal, who will wait seven years for an opportunity to do you mischief.
A cool, slow man, who is somewhat advanced in age, is generally the best person to advise with. For despatch of business, however, make use of the young, the warm, and the sanguine. Some men are of no character at all; but always take a tinge from the last company they were in. Their advice, as well as their assistance, is usually good for nothing.
It is in vain to think of finding any thing very valuable in the mind of a covetous man. Avarice is generally the vice of abject spirits. Men who have a very great talent at making money, commonly have no other; for the man who began with nothing, and has accumulated wealth, has been too busy to think of improving his mind; or indeed, to think of any thing else but property.
A boaster is always to be suspected. His is a natural infirmity, which makes him forget what he is about, and run into a thousand extravagances that have no connection with the truth. With those who have a tolerable knowledge of the world, all his assertions, professions of friendship, promises, and threatenings, go for nothing. Trust him with a secret, and he will surely discover it, either through vanity or levity.
A meek tempered man is not quite the proper person for you; his modesty will be easily confounded.—The talkative man will be apt to forget himself, and blunder out something that will give you trouble.
A man's ruling passion is the key by which you may come at his character, and pretty nearly guess how he will act in any given circumstances, unless he is a wit or a fool; they act chiefly from caprice.
There are likewise connections between the different parts of men's characters, which it will be useful for you to study. For example, if you find a man to be hasty and passionate, you may generally take it for granted he is open and artless, and so on. Like other general rules, however, this admits of many exceptions.
A bully is usually a coward. When, therefore, you unluckily have to deal with such a man, the best way is to make up to him boldly, and answer him with firmness. If you show the least sign of submission, he will take advantage of it to use you ill.
There are six sorts of people, at whose hands you need not expect much kindness. The sordid and narrow minded, think of nobody but themselves. The lazy will not take the trouble to oblige you. The busy have not time to think of you. The overgrown rich man, is above regarding any one, how much soever he may stand in need of assistance. The poor and unhappy often have not the ability. The good natured simpleton, however willing, is incapable of serving you.[7]
The age of the person you are to deal with is also to be considered. Young people are easily drawn into any scheme, merely from its being new, especially if it falls in with their love of pleasure; but they are almost as easily discouraged from it by the next person they meet with. They are not good counsellors, for they are apt to be precipitate and thoughtless; but are very fit for action, where you prescribe them a track from which they know they must not vary. Old age, on the contrary, is slow but sure; very cautious; opposed to new schemes and ways of life; inclining, generally, to covetousness; fitter to consult with you, than to act for you; not so easily won by fair speeches or long reasonings; tenacious of old opinions, customs, and formalities; apt to be displeased with those, especially younger people, who pretend to question their judgment; fond of deference, and of being listened to. Young people, in their anger, mean less than they say; old people more. You may make up for an injury with most young men; the old are generally more slow in forgiving. |
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