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COBBETT'S ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN
And (Incidentally) to Young Women, in the Middle and Higher Ranks of Life.
In a Series of Letters, Addressed to a Youth, a Bachelor, a Lover,
a Husband, a Father, a Citizen, or a Subject.
by
WILLIAM COBBETT
(From the Edition of 1829)
London
Henry Frowde
1906
Oxford: Horace Hart
Printer to the University
INTRODUCTION
1. It is the duty, and ought to be the pleasure, of age and experience
to warn and instruct youth and to come to the aid of inexperience. When
sailors have discovered rocks or breakers, and have had the good luck to
escape with life from amidst them, they, unless they be pirates or
barbarians as well as sailors, point out the spots for the placing of
buoys and of lights, in order that others may not be exposed to the
danger which they have so narrowly escaped. What man of common humanity,
having, by good luck, missed being engulfed in a quagmire or quicksand,
will withhold from his neighbours a knowledge of the peril without which
the dangerous spots are not to be approached?
2. The great effect which correct opinions and sound principles, imbibed
in early life, together with the good conduct, at that age, which must
naturally result from such opinions and principles; the great effect
which these have on the whole course of our lives is, and must be, well
known to every man of common observation. How many of us, arrived at
only forty years, have to repent; nay, which of us has not to repent, or
has not had to repent, that he did not, at an earlier age, possess a
great stock of knowledge of that kind which has an immediate effect on
our personal ease and happiness; that kind of knowledge, upon which the
cheerfulness and the harmony of our homes depend!
3. It is to communicate a stock of this sort of knowledge, in
particular, that this work is intended; knowledge, indeed, relative to
education, to many sciences, to trade, agriculture, horticulture, law,
government, and religion; knowledge relating, incidentally, to all
these; but, the main object is to furnish that sort of knowledge to the
young which but few men acquire until they be old, when it comes too
late to be useful.
4. To communicate to others the knowledge that I possess has always been
my taste and my delight; and few, who know anything of my progress
through life, will be disposed to question my fitness for the task. Talk
of rocks and breakers and quagmires and quicksands, who has ever escaped
from amidst so many as I have! Thrown (by my own will, indeed) on the
wide world at a very early age, not more than eleven or twelve years,
without money to support, without friends to advise, and without
book-learning to assist me; passing a few years dependent solely on my
own labour for my subsistence; then becoming a common soldier and
leading a military life, chiefly in foreign parts, for eight years;
quitting that life after really, for me, high promotion, and with, for
me, a large sum of money; marrying at an early age, going at once to
France to acquire the French language, thence to America; passing eight
years there, becoming bookseller and author, and taking a prominent part
in all the important discussions of the interesting period from 1793 to
1799, during which there was, in that country, a continued struggle
carried on between the English and the French parties; conducting
myself, in the ever-active part which I took in that struggle, in such a
way as to call forth marks of unequivocal approbation from the
government at home; returning to England in 1800, resuming my labours
here, suffering, during these twenty-nine years, two years of
imprisonment, heavy fines, three years self-banishment to the other side
of the Atlantic, and a total breaking of fortune, so as to be left
without a bed to lie on, and, during these twenty-nine years of troubles
and of punishments, writing and publishing, every week of my life,
whether in exile or not, eleven weeks only excepted, a periodical paper,
containing more or less of matter worthy of public attention; writing
and publishing, during _the same twenty-nine years_, a grammar of the
French and another of the English language, a work on the Economy of the
Cottage, a work on Forest Trees and Woodlands, a work on Gardening, an
account of America, a book of Sermons, a work on the Corn-plant, a
History of the Protestant Reformation; all books of great and continued
sale, and the _last_ unquestionably the book of greatest circulation in
the whole world, the Bible only excepted; having, during _these same
twenty-nine years_ of troubles and embarrassments without number,
introduced into England the manufacture of Straw-plat; also several
valuable trees; having introduced, during _the same twenty-nine years_,
the cultivation of the Corn-plant, so manifestly valuable as a source of
food; having, during the same period, always (whether in exile or not)
sustained a shop of some size, in London; having, during the whole of
the same period, never employed less, on an average, than ten persons,
in some capacity or other, exclusive of printers, bookbinders, and
others, connected with papers and books; and having, during these
twenty-nine years of troubles, embarrassments, prisons, fines, and
banishments, bred up a family of seven children to man's and woman's
state.
5. If such a man be not, after he has survived and accomplished all
this, qualified to give Advice to Young Men, no man is qualified for
that task. There may have been natural _genius_: but genius _alone_, not
all the genius in the world, could, without _something more_, have
conducted me through these perils. During these twenty-nine years, I
have had for deadly and ever-watchful foes, a government that has the
collecting and distributing of sixty millions of pounds in a year, and
also every soul who shares in that distribution. Until very lately, I
have had, for the far greater part of the time, the whole of the press
as my deadly enemy. Yet, at this moment, it will not be pretended, that
there is another man in the kingdom, who has so many cordial friends.
For as to the _friends_ of _ministers_ and the _great_, the friendship
is towards the _power_, the _influence_; it is, in fact, towards _those
taxes_, of which so many thousands are gaping to get at a share. And, if
we could, through so thick a veil, come at the naked fact, we should
find the subscription, now going on in Dublin for the purpose of
erecting a monument in that city, to commemorate the good recently done,
or alleged to be done, to Ireland, by the DUKE of WELLINGTON; we should
find, that the subscribers have _the taxes_ in view; and that, if the
monument shall actually be raised, it ought to have _selfishness_, and
not _gratitude_, engraven on its base. Nearly the same may be said with
regard to all the praises that we hear bestowed on men in power. The
friendship which is felt towards me is pure and disinterested: it is not
founded in any hope that the parties can have, that they can ever
_profit_ from professing it: it is founded on the gratitude which they
entertain for the good that I _have done_ them; and, of this sort of
friendship, and friendship so cordial, no man ever possessed a larger
portion.
6. Now, mere _genius_ will not acquire this for a man. There must be
something more than _genius_: there must be industry: there must be
perseverance: there must be, before the eyes of the nation, proofs of
extraordinary exertion: people must say to themselves, 'What wise
conduct must there have been in the employing of the time of this man!
How sober, how sparing in diet, how early a riser, how little expensive
he must have been!' These are the things, and _not genius_, which have
caused my labours to be so incessant and so successful: and, though I do
not affect to believe, that _every young man_, who shall read this work,
will become able to perform labours of equal magnitude and importance, I
do pretend, that _every_ young man, who will attend to my advice, will
become able to perform a great deal more than men generally do perform,
whatever may be his situation in life; and, that he will, too, perform
it with greater ease and satisfaction than he would, without the advice,
be able to perform the smaller portion.
7. I have had, from thousands of young men, and men advanced in years
also, letters of thanks for the great benefit which they have derived
from my labours. Some have thanked me for my Grammars, some for my
Cottage Economy, others for the Woodlands and the Gardener; and, in
short, for every one of my works have I received letters of thanks from
numerous persons, of whom I had never heard before. In many cases I have
been told, that, if the parties had had my books to read some years
before, the gain to them, whether in time or in other things, would have
been very great. Many, and a great many, have told me, that, though long
at school, and though their parents had paid for their being taught
English Grammar, or French, they had, in a short time, learned more from
my books, on those subjects, than they had learned, in years, from their
teachers. How many gentlemen have thanked me, in the strongest terms,
for my Woodlands and Gardener, observing (just as Lord Bacon had
observed in his time) that they had before seen no books, on these
subjects, that they could _understand_! But, I know not of anything that
ever gave me more satisfaction than I derived from the visit of a
gentleman of fortune, whom I had never heard of before, and who, about
four years ago, came to thank me in person for a complete reformation,
which had been worked in his son by the reading of my two SERMONS on
_drinking_ and on _gaming_.
8. I have, therefore, done, already, a great deal in this way: but,
there is still wanting, in a compact form, a body of ADVICE such as that
which I now propose to give: and in the giving of which I shall divide
my matter as follows. 1. Advice addressed to a YOUTH; 2. Advice
addressed to a BACHELOR; 3. Advice addressed to a LOVER; 4. To a
HUSBAND; 5. To a FATHER; 6. To a CITIZEN or SUBJECT.
9. Some persons will smile, and others laugh outright, at the idea of
'Cobbett's giving advice for conducting the affairs of _love_.' Yes, but
I was once young, and surely I may say with the poet, I forget which of
them,
'Though old I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet.'
I forget, indeed, the _names_ of the ladies as completely, pretty nigh,
as I do that of the poets; but I remember their influence, and of this
influence on the conduct and in the affairs and on the condition of men,
I have, and must have, been a witness all my life long. And, when we
consider in how great a degree the happiness of all the remainder of a
man's life depends, and always must depend, on his taste and judgment in
the character of a lover, this may well be considered as the most
important period of the whole term of his existence.
10. In my address to the HUSBAND, I shall, of course, introduce advice
relative to the important duties of _masters_ and _servants_; duties of
great importance, whether considered as affecting families or as
affecting the community. In my address to the CITIZEN or SUBJECT, I
shall consider all the reciprocal duties of the governors and the
governed, and also the duties which man owes to his neighbour. It would
be tedious to attempt to lay down rules for conduct exclusively
applicable to every distinct calling, profession, and condition of life;
but, under the above-described heads, will be conveyed every species of
advice of which I deem the utility to be unquestionable.
11. I have thus fully described the nature of my little work, and,
before I enter on the first Letter, I venture to express a hope, that
its good effects will be felt long after its author shall have ceased to
exist.
LETTER I
TO A YOUTH
12. You are now arrived at that age which the law thinks sufficient to
make an oath, taken by you, valid in a court of law. Let us suppose from
fourteen to nearly twenty; and, reserving, for a future occasion, my
remarks on your duty towards parents, let me here offer you my advice as
to the means likely to contribute largely towards making you a happy
man, useful to all about you, and an honour to those from whom you
sprang.
13. Start, I beseech you, with a conviction firmly fixed on your mind,
that you have no right to live in this world; that, being of hale body
and sound mind, you have _no right_ to any earthly existence, without
doing _work_ of some sort or other, unless you have ample fortune
whereon to live clear of debt; and, that even in that case, you have no
right to breed children, to be kept by others, or to be exposed to the
chance of being so kept. Start with this conviction thoroughly implanted
on your mind. To wish to live on the labour of others is, besides the
folly of it, to contemplate a _fraud_ at the least, and, under certain
circumstances, to meditate oppression and robbery.
14. I suppose you in the middle rank of life. Happiness ought to be your
great object, and it is to be found only in _independence_. Turn your
back on Whitehall and on Somerset-House; leave the Customs and Excise to
the feeble and low-minded; look not for success to favour, to
partiality, to friendship, or to what is called _interest_: write it on
your heart, that you will depend solely on your own merit and your own
exertions. Think not, neither, of any of those situations where gaudy
habiliments and sounding titles poorly disguise from the eyes of good
sense the mortifications and the heart-ache of slaves. Answer me not by
saying, that these situations '_must be_ filled by _somebody_;' for, if
I were to admit the truth of the proposition, which I do not, it would
remain for you to show that they are conducive to happiness, the
contrary of which has been proved to me by the observation of a now
pretty long life.
15. Indeed, reason tells us, that it must be thus: for that which a man
owes to favour or to partiality, that same favour or partiality is
constantly liable to take from him. He who lives upon anything except
his own labour, is incessantly surrounded by rivals: his grand resource
is that servility in which he is always liable to be surpassed. He is in
daily danger of being out-bidden; his very bread depends upon caprice;
and he lives in a state of uncertainty and never-ceasing fear. His is
not, indeed, the dog's life, '_hunger_ and idleness;' but it is worse;
for it is 'idleness with _slavery_,' the latter being the just price of
the former. Slaves frequently are well _fed_ and well _clad_; but slaves
dare not _speak_; they dare not be suspected to _think_ differently from
their masters: hate his acts as much as they may; be he tyrant, be he
drunkard, be he fool, or be he all three at once, they must be silent,
or, nine times out of ten, affect approbation: though possessing a
thousand times his knowledge, they must feign a conviction of his
superior understanding; though knowing that it is they who, in fact, do
all that he is paid for doing, it is destruction to them to _seem as if
they thought_ any portion of the service belonged to them! Far from me
be the thought, that any youth who shall read this page would not rather
perish than submit to live in a state like this! Such a state is fit
only for the refuse of nature; the halt, the half-blind, the unhappy
creatures whom nature has marked out for degradation.
16. And how comes it, then, that we see hale and even clever youths
voluntarily bending their necks to this slavery; nay, pressing forward
in eager rivalship to assume the yoke that ought to be insupportable?
The cause, and the only cause, is, that the deleterious fashion of the
day has created so many artificial wants, and has raised the minds of
young men so much above their real rank and state of life, that they
look scornfully on the employment, the fare, and the dress, that would
become them; and, in order to avoid that state in which they might live
_free_ and _happy_, they become _showy slaves_.
17. The great source of independence, the French express in a precept of
three words, '_Vivre de peu_,' which I have always very much admired.
'_To live upon little_' is the great security against slavery; and this
precept extends to dress and other things besides food and drink. When
DOCTOR JOHNSON wrote his Dictionary, he put in the word pensioner thus:
'PENSIONER--_A slave of state_.' After this he himself became a
_pensioner_! And thus, agreeably to his own definition, he lived and
died '_a slave of state_!' What must this man of great genius, and of
great industry too, have felt at receiving this pension! Could he be so
callous as not to feel a pang upon seeing his own name placed before his
own degrading definition? And what could induce him to submit to this?
His wants, his artificial wants, his habit of indulging in the pleasures
of the table; his disregard of the precept '_Vivre de peu_.' This was
the cause; and, be it observed, that indulgences of this sort, while
they tend to make men poor and expose them to commit mean acts, tend
also to enfeeble the body, and more especially to cloud and to weaken
the mind.
18. When this celebrated author wrote his Dictionary, he had not been
debased by luxurious enjoyments; the rich and powerful had not caressed
him into a slave; his writings then bore the stamp of truth and
independence: but, having been debased by luxury, he who had, while
content with plain fare, been the strenuous advocate of the rights of
the people, became a strenuous advocate for _taxation without
representation_; and, in a work under the title of '_Taxation no
Tyranny_,' defended, and greatly assisted to produce, that unjust and
bloody war which finally severed from England that great country the
United states of America, now the most powerful and dangerous rival that
this kingdom ever had. The statue of Dr. JOHNSON was the first that was
put into St. PAUL'S CHURCH! A signal warning to us not to look upon
monuments in honour of the dead as a proof of their virtues; for here we
see St. PAUL'S CHURCH holding up to the veneration of posterity a man
whose own writings, together with the records of the pension list, prove
him to have been '_a slave of state_.'
19. Endless are the instances of men of bright parts and high spirit
having been, by degrees, rendered powerless and despicable, by their
imaginary wants. Seldom has there been a man with a fairer prospect of
accomplishing great things and of acquiring lasting renown, than CHARLES
FOX: he had great talents of the most popular sort; the times were
singularly favourable to an exertion of them with success; a large part
of the nation admired him and were his partisans; he had, as to the
great question between him and his rival (PITT), reason and justice
clearly on his side: but he had against him his squandering and
luxurious habits: these made him dependent on the rich part of his
partisans; made his wisdom subservient to opulent folly or selfishness;
deprived his country of all the benefit that it might have derived from
his talents; and, finally, sent him to the grave without a single sigh
from a people, a great part of whom would, in his earlier years, have
wept at his death as at a national calamity.
20. Extravagance in _dress_, in the haunting of _play-houses_, in
_horses_, in everything else, is to be avoided, and, in youths and young
men, extravagance in _dress_ particularly. This sort of extravagance,
this waste of money on the decoration of the body, arises solely from
vanity, and from vanity of the most contemptible sort. It arises from
the notion, that all the people in the street, for instance, will be
_looking at you_ as soon as you walk out; and that they will, in a
greater or less degree, think the better of you on account of your fine
dress. Never was notion more false. All the sensible people that happen
to see you, will think nothing at all about you: those who are filled
with the same vain notion as you are, will perceive your attempt to
impose on them, and will despise you accordingly: rich people will
wholly disregard you, and you will be envied and hated by those who have
the same vanity that you have without the means of gratifying it. Dress
should be suited to your rank and station; a surgeon or physician should
not dress like a carpenter! but there is no reason why a tradesman, a
merchant's clerk, or clerk of any kind, or why a shopkeeper or
manufacturer, or even a merchant; no reason at all why any of these
should dress in an _expensive_ manner. It is a great mistake to suppose,
that they derive any advantage from exterior decoration. Men are
estimated by other _men_ according to their capacity and willingness to
be in some way or other _useful_; and though, with the foolish and vain
part of _women_, fine clothes frequently do something, yet the greater
part of the sex are much too penetrating to draw their conclusions
solely from the outside show of a man: they look deeper, and find other
criterions whereby to judge. And, after all, if the fine clothes obtain
you a wife, will they bring you, in that wife, _frugality, good sense_,
and that sort of attachment that is likely to be lasting? Natural beauty
of person is quite another thing: this always has, it always will and
must have, some weight even with men, and great weight with women. But
this does not want to be set off by expensive clothes. Female eyes are,
in such cases, very sharp: they can discover beauty though half hidden
by beard and even by dirt and surrounded by rags: and, take this as a
secret worth half a fortune to you, that women, however personally vain
they may be themselves, _despise personal vanity in men_.
21. Let your dress be as cheap as may be without _shabbiness_; think
more about the colour of your shirt than about the gloss or texture of
your coat; be always as _clean_ as your occupation will, without
inconvenience, permit; but never, no, not for one moment, believe, that
any human being, with sense in his skull, will love or respect you on
account of your fine or costly clothes. A great misfortune of the
present day is, that every one is, in his own estimate, _raised above
his real state of life_: every one seems to think himself entitled, if
not to title and great estate, at least _to live without work_. This
mischievous, this most destructive, way of thinking has, indeed, been
produced, like almost all our other evils, by the Acts of our Septennial
and Unreformed Parliament. That body, by its Acts, has caused an
enormous Debt to be created, and, in consequence, a prodigious sum to be
raised annually in taxes. It has caused, by these means, a race of
loan-mongers and stock-jobbers to arise. These carry on a species of
_gaming_, by which some make fortunes in a day, and others, in a day,
become beggars. The unfortunate gamesters, like the purchasers of blanks
in a lottery, are never heard of; but the fortunate ones become
companions for lords, and some of them lords themselves. We have, within
these few years, seen many of these gamesters get fortunes of a quarter
of a million in a few days, and then we have heard them, though
notoriously amongst the lowest and basest of human creatures, called
'_honourable gentlemen_'! In such a state of things, who is to expect
patient industry, laborious study, frugality and care; who, in such a
state of things, is to expect these to be employed in pursuit of that
competence which it is the laudable wish of all men to secure? Not long
ago a man, who had served his time to a tradesman in London, became,
instead of pursuing his trade, a stock-jobber, or gambler; and, in about
_two years_, drove his _coach-and-four_, had his town house and country
house, and visited, and was visited by, _peers of the highest rank_! A
_fellow-apprentice_ of this lucky gambler, though a tradesman in
excellent business, seeing no earthly reason why _he_ should not have
his coach-and-four also, turned his stock in trade into a stake for the
'Change; but, alas! at the end of a few months, instead of being in a
coach-and-four, he was in the _Gazette_!
22. This is one instance out of hundreds of thousands; not, indeed,
exactly of the same description, but all arising from the same copious
source. The words _speculate_ and _speculation_ have been substituted
for _gamble_ and _gambling_. The hatefulness of the pursuit is thus
taken away; and, while taxes to the amount of more than double the whole
of the rental of the kingdom; while these cause such crowds of idlers,
every one of whom calls himself a _gentleman_, and avoids the appearance
of working for his bread; while this is the case, who is to wonder, that
a great part of the youth of the country, knowing themselves to be as
_good_, as _learned_, and as _well-bred_ as these _gentlemen_; who is to
wonder, that they think, that they also ought to be considered as
_gentlemen_? Then, the late _war_ (also the work of the Septennial
Parliament) has left us, amongst its many legacies, such swarms of
_titled_ men and women; such swarms of '_Sirs_' and their '_Ladies_';
men and women who, only the other day, were the fellow-apprentices,
fellow-tradesmen's or farmers' sons and daughters, or indeed, the
fellow-servants, of those who are now in these several states of life;
the late Septennial Parliament war has left us such swarms of these,
that it is no wonder that the heads of young people are turned, and that
they are ashamed of that state of life to act their part well in which
ought to be their delight.
23. But, though the cause of the evil is in Acts of the Septennial
Parliament; though this universal desire in people to be thought to be
above their station; though this arises from such acts; and, though it
is no wonder that young men are thus turned from patient study and
labour; though these things be undoubted, they form no reason why I
should not _warn you_ against becoming a victim to this national
scourge. For, in spite of every art made use of to avoid labour, the
taxes will, after all, maintain only _so many_ idlers. We cannot all be
'_knights_' and '_gentlemen_': there must be a large part of us, after
all, to make and mend clothes and houses, and carry on trade and
commerce, and, in spite of all that we can do, the far greater part of
us must actually _work_ at something; for, unless we can get at some of
the taxes, we fall under the sentence of Holy Writ, 'He who will not
_work_ shall not _eat_.' Yet, so strong is the propensity to be thought
'_gentlemen_'; so general is this desire amongst the youth of this
formerly laborious and unassuming nation; a nation famed for its pursuit
of wealth through the channels of patience, punctuality, and integrity;
a nation famed for its love of solid acquisitions and qualities, and its
hatred of everything showy and false: so general is this really
fraudulent desire amongst the youth of this now '_speculating_' nation,
that thousands upon thousands of them are, at this moment, in a state of
half starvation, not so much because they are too _lazy_ to earn their
bread, as because they are too _proud_! And what are the _consequences_?
Such a youth remains or becomes a burden to his parents, of whom he
ought to be the comfort, if not the support. Always aspiring to
something higher than he can reach, his life is a life of disappointment
and of shame. If marriage _befal_ him, it is a real affliction,
involving others as well as himself. His lot is a thousand times worse
than that of the common labouring pauper. Nineteen times out of twenty a
premature death awaits him: and, alas! how numerous are the cases in
which that death is most miserable, not to say ignominious! _Stupid
pride_ is one of the symptoms of _madness_. Of the two madmen mentioned
in Don Quixote, one thought himself NEPTUNE, and the other JUPITER.
Shakspeare agrees with CERVANTES; for, Mad Tom, in King Lear, being
asked who he is, answers, 'I am a _tailor_ run mad with _pride_.' How
many have we heard of, who claimed relationship with _noblemen_ and
_kings_; while of not a few each has thought himself the Son of God! To
the public journals, and to the observations of every one, nay, to the
'_county-lunatic asylums_' (things never heard of in England till now),
I appeal for the fact of the vast and hideous _increase of madness in
this country_; and, within these very few years, how many scores of
young men, who, if their minds had been unperverted by the gambling
principles of the day, had a probably long and happy life before them;
who had talent, personal endowments, love of parents, love of friends,
admiration of large circles; who had, in short, everything to make life
desirable, and who, from mortified pride, founded on false pretensions,
_have put an end to their own existence_!
24. As to DRUNKENNESS and GLUTTONY, generally so called, these are vices
so nasty and beastly that I deem any one capable of indulging in them to
be wholly unworthy of my advice; and, if any youth unhappily initiated
in these odious and debasing vices should happen to read what I am now
writing, I refer him to the command of God, conveyed to the Israelites
by Moses, in Deuteronomy, chap. xxi. The father and mother are to take
the bad son 'and bring him to the elders of the city; and they shall say
to the elders, This our son will not obey our voice: he is a _glutton_
and a _drunkard_. And all the men of the city shall stone him with
stones, that he die.' I refer downright beastly gluttons and drunkards
to this; but indulgence short, _far short_, of this gross and really
nasty drunkenness and gluttony is to be deprecated, and that, too, with
the more earnestness because it is too often looked upon as being no
crime at all, and as having nothing blameable in it; nay, there are many
persons who _pride_ themselves on their refined taste in matters
connected with eating and drinking: so far from being ashamed of
employing their thoughts on the subject, it is their boast that they do
it. St. Gregory, one of the Christian fathers, says: 'It is not the
_quantity_ or the _quality_ of the meat, or drink, but the _love of it_
that is condemned;' that is to say, the indulgence beyond the absolute
demands of nature; the hankering after it; the neglect of some duty or
other for the sake of the enjoyments of the table.
25. This _love_ of what are called 'good eating and drinking,' if very
unamiable in grown-up persons, is perfectly hateful in _a youth_; and,
if he indulge in the propensity, he is already half ruined. To warn you
against acts of fraud, robbery, and violence, is not my province; that
is the business of those who make and administer _the law_. I am not
talking to you against acts which the jailor and the hangman punish; nor
against those moral offences which all men condemn; but against
indulgences, which, by men in general, are deemed not only harmless, but
meritorious; but which the observation of my whole life has taught me to
regard as destructive to human happiness, and against which all ought to
be cautioned even in their boyish days. I have been a great observer,
and I can truly say, that I have never known a man, 'fond of good eating
and drinking,' as it is called; that I have never known such a man (and
hundreds I have known) who was worthy of respect.
26. Such indulgences are, in the first place, very _expensive_. The
materials are costly, and the preparations still more so. What a
monstrous thing, that, in order to satisfy the appetite of a man, there
must be a person or two _at work every day_! More fuel, culinary
implements, kitchen-room; what! all these merely to tickle the palate of
four or five people, and especially people who can hardly pay their way!
And, then, the _loss of time_: the time spent in pleasing the palate: it
is truly horrible to behold people who ought to be at work, sitting, at
the three meals, not less than three of the about fourteen hours that
they are out of their beds! A youth, habituated to this sort of
indulgence, cannot be valuable to any employer. Such a youth cannot be
deprived of his table-enjoyments on any account: his eating and drinking
form the momentous concern of his life: if business interfere with that,
the business must give way. A young man, some years ago, offered himself
to me, on a particular occasion, as an _amanuensis_, for which he
appeared to be perfectly qualified. The terms were settled, and I, who
wanted the job dispatched, requested him to sit down, and begin; but he,
looking out of the window, whence he could see the church clock, said,
somewhat hastily, 'I _cannot_ stop _now_, sir, I must go to _dinner_.'
'Oh!' said I, 'you _must_ go to dinner, must you! Let the dinner, which
you _must_ wait upon to-day, have your constant services, then: for you
and I shall never agree.' He had told me that he was in _great distress_
for want of employment; and yet, when relief was there before his eyes,
he could forego it for the sake of getting at his eating and drinking
three or four hours, perhaps, sooner than I should have thought it right
for him to leave off work. Such a person cannot be sent from home,
except at certain times; he _must_ be near the kitchen at three fixed
hours of the day; if he be absent more than four or five hours, he is
ill-treated. In short, a youth thus pampered is worth nothing as a
person to be employed in business.
27. And, as to _friends_ and _acquaintances_; they will _say_ nothing to
you; they will _offer_ you indulgences under their roofs; but the more
ready you are to accept of their offers, and, in fact, the better
_taste_ you discover, the less they will like you, and the sooner they
will find means of shaking you off; for, besides the _cost_ which you
occasion them, people do not like to have _critics_ sitting in judgment
on their bottles and dishes. _Water-drinkers_ are universally _laughed
at_; but, it has always seemed to me, that they are amongst the most
welcome of guests, and that, too, though the host be by no means of a
niggardly turn. The truth is, they give _no trouble_; they occasion _no
anxiety_ to please them; they are sure not to make their sittings
_inconveniently long_; and, which is the great thing of all, their
example teaches _moderation_ to the rest of the company. Your notorious
'lovers of good cheer' are, on the contrary, not to be invited without
_due reflection_: to entertain one of them is a serious business; and as
people are not apt voluntarily to undertake such pieces of business, the
well-known 'lovers of good eating and drinking' are left, very
generally, to enjoy it by themselves and at their own expense.
28. But, all other considerations aside, _health_, the most valuable of
all earthly possessions, and without which all the rest are worth
nothing, bids us, not only to refrain from _excess_ in eating and
drinking, but bids us to stop short of what might be indulged in without
any apparent impropriety. The words of ECCLESIASTICUS ought to be read
once a week by every young person in the world, and particularly by the
young people of this country at this time. 'Eat modestly that which is
set before thee, and _devour_ not, lest thou be _hated_. When thou
sittest amongst many, reach not thine hand out first of all. _How little
is sufficient for man well taught! A wholesome sleep_ cometh of a
temperate belly. Such a man _riseth up in the morning_, and is _well at
ease with himself_. Be not too hasty of meats; for excess of meats
bringeth sickness, and choleric disease cometh of gluttony. By surfeit
have many perished, and he that _dieteth himself prolongeth his life_.
Show not thy valiantness in wine; for wine hath destroyed many. Wine
measurably taken, and in season, bringeth gladness and cheerfulness of
mind; but drinking with excess maketh bitterness of mind, brawlings and
scoldings.' How true are these words! How well worthy of a constant
place in our memories! Yet, what pains have been taken to apologise for
a life contrary to these precepts! And, good God! what punishment can be
too great, what mark of infamy sufficiently signal, for those pernicious
villains of talent, who have employed that talent in the composition of
_Bacchanalian songs_; that is to say, pieces of fine and captivating
writing in praise of one of the most odious and destructive vices in the
black catalogue of human depravity!
29. In the passage which I have just quoted from chap. xxxi. of
ECCLESIASTICUS, it is said, that 'wine, _measurably_ taken, and in
_season_,' is a _proper thing_. This, and other such passages of the Old
Testament, have given a handle to drunkards, and to extravagant people,
to insist, that _God intended_ that _wine_ should be _commonly_ drunk.
No doubt of that. But, then, he could intend this only _in countries in
which he had given wine_, and to which he had given no cheaper drink
except _water_. If it be said, as it truly may, that, by the means of
the _sea_ and the _winds_, he has given wine to all _countries_, I
answer that this gift is of no use to us _now_, because our government
steps in between the sea and the winds and us. _Formerly_, indeed, the
case was different; and, here I am about to give you, incidentally, a
piece of _historical knowledge_, which you will not have acquired from
HUME, GOLDSMITH, or any other of the romancers called historians. Before
that unfortunate event, the _Protestant Reformation_, as it is called,
took place, the price of RED WINE, in England, was _fourpence a gallon_,
Winchester measure; and of WHITE WINE, _sixpence a gallon_. At the same
time the pay of a labouring man per day, as fixed by law, was
_fourpence_. Now, when a labouring man could earn _four quarts of good
wine in a day_, it was, doubtless, allowable, even in England, for
people in the middle rank of life to drink wine _rather commonly_; and,
therefore, in those happy days of England, these passages of Scripture
were applicable enough. But, _now_, when we have got a _Protestant_
government, which by the taxes which it makes people pay to it, causes
the _eighth part of a gallon_ of wine to cost more than the pay of a
labouring man for a day; _now_, this passage of Scripture is not
applicable to us. There is no '_season_' in which we can take wine
without ruining ourselves, however '_measurably_' we may take it; and I
beg you to regard, as perverters of Scripture and as seducers of youth,
all those who cite passages like that above cited, in justification of,
or as an apology for, the practice of wine-drinking in England.
30. I beseech you to look again and again at, and to remember every word
of, the passage which I have just quoted from the book of
ECCLESIASTICUS. How completely have been, and are, its words verified by
my experience and in my person! How little of eating and drinking is
sufficient for me! How wholesome is my sleep! How early do I rise; and
how '_well at ease_' am I 'with myself!' I should not have deserved such
blessings, if I had withheld from my neighbours a knowledge of the means
by which they were obtained; and, therefore, this knowledge I have been
in the constant habit of communicating. When one _gives a dinner to a
company_, it is an extraordinary affair, and is intended, by sensible
men, for purposes other than those of eating and drinking. But, in
_general_, in the every-day life, despicable are those who suffer any
part of their happiness to depend upon what they have to eat or to
drink, provided they have _a sufficiency of wholesome food_; despicable
is the _man_, and worse than despicable the _youth_, that would make any
sacrifice, however small, whether of money or of time, or of anything
else, in order to secure a dinner different from that which he would
have had without such sacrifice. Who, what man, ever performed a greater
quantity of labour than I have performed? What man ever did so much?
Now, in a great measure, I owe my capability to perform this labour to
my disregard of dainties. Being shut up two years in Newgate, with a
fine on my head of a thousand pounds to the king, for having expressed
my indignation at the flogging of Englishmen under a guard of German
bayonets, I ate, during one whole year, one mutton chop every day. Being
once in town, with one son (then a little boy) and a clerk, while my
family was in the country, I had during some weeks nothing but legs of
mutton; first day, leg of mutton boiled or _roasted_; second, _cold_;
third, _hashed_; then, leg of mutton _boiled_; and so on. When I have
been by myself, or nearly so, I have _always_ proceeded thus: given
directions for having _every day the same thing_, or alternately as
above, and every day exactly at the same hour, so as to prevent the
necessity of any _talk_ about the matter. I am certain that, upon an
average, I have not, during my life, spent more than _thirty-five
minutes a day at table_, including all the meals of the day. I like, and
I take care to have, good and clean victuals; but, if wholesome and
clean, that is enough. If I find it, by chance, _too coarse_ for my
appetite, I put the food aside, or let somebody do it, and leave the
appetite to gather keenness. But the great security of all is, to eat
_little_, and to drink nothing that _intoxicates_. He that eats till he
is _full_ is little better than a beast; and he that drinks till he is
_drunk_ is quite a beast.
31. Before I dismiss this affair of eating and drinking, let me beseech
you to resolve to free yourselves from the slavery of the _tea_ and
_coffee_ and other _slop-kettle_, if, unhappily, you have been bred up
in such slavery. Experience has taught me, that those slops are
_injurious to health_: until I left them off (having taken to them at
the age of 26), even my habits of sobriety, moderate eating, early
rising; even these were not, until I left off the slops, sufficient to
give me that complete health which I have since had. I pretend not to be
a 'doctor;' but, I assert, that to pour regularly, every day, a pint or
two of _warm liquid matter_ down the throat, whether under the name of
tea, coffee, soup, grog, or whatever else, is greatly injurious to
health. However, at present, what I have to represent to _you is the
great deduction, which the use of these slops makes, from your power of
being useful_, and also from your _power to husband your income_,
whatever it may be, and from whatever source arising. I am to suppose
you to be desirous to become a clever and a useful man; a man to be, if
not admired and revered, at least to be _respected_. In order to merit
respect beyond that which is due to very common men, you must do
something more than very common men; and I am now going to show you how
your course _must be impeded_ by the use of the _slops_.
32. If the women exclaim, 'Nonsense! come and take a cup,' take it for
that once; but hear what I have to say. In answer to my representation
regarding the _waste of time_ which is occasioned by the slops, it has
been said, that let what may be the nature of the food, there must _be
time_ for taking it. Not _so much_ time, however, to eat a bit of meat
or cheese or butter with a bit of bread. But, these may be eaten in a
shop, a warehouse, a factory, far from any _fire_, and even in a
carriage on the road. The slops absolutely demand _fire_ and a
_congregation_; so that, be your business what it may; be you
shopkeeper, farmer, drover, sportsman, traveller, to the _slop-board_
you must come; you must wait for its assembling, or start from home
without your breakfast; and, being used to the warm liquid, you feel out
of order for the want of it. If the slops were in fashion amongst
ploughmen and carters, we must all be starved; for the food could never
be raised. The mechanics are half-ruined by them. Many of them are
become poor, enervated creatures; and chiefly from this cause. But is
the positive _cost_ nothing? At boarding-schools an _additional price is
given_ on account of the tea slops. Suppose you to be a clerk, in hired
lodgings, and going to your counting-house at nine o'clock. You get your
dinner, perhaps, near to the scene of your work; but how are you to have
the _breakfast slops_ without _a servant_? Perhaps you find a lodging
just to suit you, but the house is occupied by people who keep no
_servants_, and you want a servant to _light a fire_ and get the slop
ready. You could get this lodging for several shillings a week less than
another at the next door; but _there_ they keep a servant, who will
'_get_ you your breakfast,' and preserve you, benevolent creature as she
is, from the cruel necessity of going to the cupboard and cutting off a
slice of meat or cheese and a bit of bread. She will, most likely, toast
your bread for you too, and melt your butter; and then muffle you up, in
winter, and send you out almost swaddled. Really such a thing can hardly
be expected ever to become a _man_. You are weak; you have delicate
health; you are '_bilious_!' Why, my good fellow, it is these very slops
that make you weak and bilious; And, indeed, the _poverty_, the real
poverty, that they and their concomitants bring on you, greatly assists,
in more ways than one, in producing your 'delicate health.'
33. So much for indulgences in eating, drinking, and dress. Next, as to
_amusements_. It is recorded of the famous ALFRED, that he devoted eight
hours of the twenty-four to _labour_, eight to _rest_, and eight to
_recreation_. He was, however, _a king_, and could be _thinking_ during
the eight hours of recreation. It is certain, that there ought to be
hours of recreation, and I do not know that eight are too many; but,
then observe, those hours ought to be _well-chosen_, and the _sort_ of
recreation ought to be attended to. It ought to be such as is at once
innocent in itself and in its tendency, and not injurious to health. The
sports of the field are the best of all, because they are conducive to
health, because they are enjoyed by _day-light_, and because they demand
early rising. The nearer that other amusements approach to these, the
better they are. A town-life, which many persons are compelled, by the
nature of their calling, to lead, precludes the possibility of pursuing
amusements of this description to any very considerable extent; and
young men in towns are, generally speaking, compelled to choose between
_books_ on the one hand, or _gaming_ and the _play-house_ on the other.
_Dancing_ is at once rational and healthful: it gives animal spirits: it
is the natural amusement of young people, and such it has been from the
days of Moses: it is enjoyed in numerous companies: it makes the parties
to be pleased with themselves and with all about them; it has no
tendency to excite base and malignant feelings; and none but the most
grovelling and hateful tyranny, or the most stupid and despicable
fanaticism, ever raised its voice against it. The bad modern habits of
England have created one inconvenience attending the enjoyment of this
healthy and innocent pastime, namely, _late hours_, which are at once
injurious to health and destructive of order and of industry. In other
countries people dance by _day-light_. Here they do not; and, therefore,
you must, in this respect, submit to the custom, though not without
robbing the dancing night of as many hours as you can.