OF THE TRADESMAN'S MARRYING TOO SOON
It was a prudent provision which our ancestors made in the indenture of
tradesmen's apprentices, that they should not contract matrimony during
their apprenticeship; and they bound it with a penalty that was then
thought sufficient. However, custom has taken off the edge of it since;
namely, that they who did thus contract matrimony should forfeit their
indentures, that is to say, should lose the benefit of their whole
service, and not be made free.
Doubtless our forefathers were better acquainted with the advantages of
frugality than we are, and saw farther into the desperate consequences
of expensive living in the beginning of a tradesman's setting out into
the world than we do; at least, it is evident they studied more and
practised more of the prudential part in those cases, than we do.
Hence we find them very careful to bind their youth under the strongest
obligations they could, to temperance, modesty, and good husbandry, as
the grand foundations of their prosperity in trade, and to prescribe to
them such rules and methods of frugality and good husbandry, as they
thought would best conduce to their prosperity.
Among these rules this was one of the chief--namely, 'that they should
not wed before they had sped?' It is an old homely rule, and coarsely
expressed, but the meaning is evident, that a young beginner should
never marry too soon. While he was a servant, he was bound from it as
above; and when he had his liberty, he was persuaded against it by all
the arguments which indeed ought to prevail with a considering
man--namely, the expenses that a family necessarily would bring with it,
and the care he ought to take to be able to support the expense before
he brought it upon himself.
On this account it is, I say, our ancestors took more of their youth
than we now do; at least, I think, they studied well the best methods of
thriving, and were better acquainted with the steps by which a young
tradesman ought to be introduced into the world than we are, and of the
difficulties which those people would necessarily involve themselves in,
who, despising those rules and methods of frugality, involved themselves
in the expense of a family before they were in a way of gaining
sufficient to support it.
A married apprentice will always make a repenting tradesman; and those
stolen matches, a very few excepted, are generally attended with
infinite broils and troubles, difficulties, and cross events, to carry
them on at first by way of intrigue, to conceal them afterwards under
fear of superiors, to manage after that to keep off scandal, and
preserve the character as well of the wife as of the husband; and all
this necessarily attended with a heavy expense, even before the young
man is out of his time; before he has set a foot forward, or gotten a
shilling in the world; so that all this expense is out of his original
stock, even before he gets it, and is a sad drawback upon him when it
comes.
Nay, this unhappy and dirty part is often attended with worse
consequences still; for this expense coming upon him while he is but a
servant, and while his portion, or whatever it is to be called, is not
yet come into his hand, he is driven to terrible exigencies to supply
this expense. If his circumstances are mean, and his trade mean, he is
frequently driven to wrong his master, and rob his shop or his till for
money, if he can come at it: and this, as it begins in madness,
generally ends in destruction; for often he is discovered, exposed, and
perhaps punished, and so the man is undone before he begins. If his
circumstances are good, and he has friends that are able, and
expectations that are considerable, then his expense is still the
greater, and ways and means are found out, or at least looked for, to
supply the expense, and conceal the fact, that his friends may not know
it, till he has gotten the blessing he expects into his hands, and is
put in a way to stand upon his own legs; and then it comes out, with a
great many grieving aggravations to a parent to find himself tricked and
defeated in the expectations of his son's marrying handsomely, and to
his advantage; instead of which, he is obliged to receive a dish-clout
for a daughter-in-law, and see his family propagated by a race of
beggars, and yet perhaps as haughty, as insolent, and as expensive, as
if she had blessed the family with a lady of fortune, and brought a fund
with her to have supported the charge of her posterity.
When this happens, the poor young man's case is really deplorable.
Before he is out of his time, he is obliged to borrow of friends, if he
has any, on pretence his father does not make him a sufficient
allowance, or he trenches upon his master's cash, which perhaps, he
being the eldest apprentice, is in his hands; and this he does,
depending, that when he is out of his time, and his father gives him
wherewith to set up, he will make good the deficiency; and all this
happens accordingly so that his reputation as to his master is
preserved, and he comes off clear as to dishonesty in his trust.
But what a sad chasm does it make in his fortune! I knew a certain young
tradesman, whose father, knowing nothing of his son's measures, gave him
£2000 to set up with, straining himself to the utmost for the well
introducing his son into the world; but who, when he came to set up,
having near a year before married the servant-maid of the house where he
lodged, and kept her privately at a great expense, had above £600 of his
stock already wasted and sunk, before he began for himself; the
consequence of which was, that going in partner with another young man,
who had likewise £2000 to begin with, he was, instead of half of the
profits, obliged to make a private article to accept of a third of the
trade; and the beggar-wife proving more expensive, by far, than the
partner's wife (who married afterwards, and doubled his fortune), the
first young man was obliged to quit the trade, and with his remaining
stock set up by himself; in which case his expenses continuing, and his
stock being insufficient, he sank gradually, and then broke, and died
poor. In a word, he broke the heart of his father, wasted what he had,
and could never recover it, and at last it broke his own heart too.
But I shall bring it a little farther. Suppose the youth not to act so
grossly neither; not to marry in his apprenticeship, not to be forced to
keep a wife privately, and eat the bread he never got; but suppose him
to be entered upon the world, that he has set up, opened shop, or fitted
up his warehouse, and is ready to trade, the next thing, in the ordinary
course of the world, at this time is _a wife_; nay, I have met with some
parents, who have been indiscreet enough themselves to prompt their sons
to marry as soon as they are set up; and the reason they give for it is,
the wickedness of the age, that youth are drawn in a hundred ways to
ruinous matches or debaucheries, and are so easily ruined by the mere
looseness of their circumstances, that it is needful to marry them to
keep them at home, and to preserve them diligent, and bind them close to
their business.
This, be it just or not, is a bad cure of an ill disease; it is ruining
the young man to make him sober, and making him a slave for life to make
him diligent. Be it that the wife he shall marry is a sober, frugal,
housewifely woman, and that nothing is to be laid to her charge but the
mere necessary addition of a family expense, and that with the utmost
moderation, yet, at the best, he cripples his fortune, stock-starves his
business, and brings a great expense upon himself at first, before, by
his success in trade, he had laid up stock enough to support the charge.
First, it is reasonable to suppose, that at his beginning in the world
he cannot expect to get so good a portion with a wife, as he might after
he had been set up a few years, and by his diligence and frugality,
joined to a small expense in house-keeping, had increased both his stock
in trade and the trade itself; then he would be able to look forward
boldly, and would have some pretence for insisting on a fortune, when he
could make out his improvements in trade, and show that he was both
able to maintain a wife, and able to live without her. When a young
tradesman in Holland or Germany goes a-courting, I am told the first
question the young woman asks of him, or perhaps her friends for her,
is, 'Are you able to pay the charges?' that is to say, in English, 'Are
you able to keep a wife when you have got her?' The question is a little
Gothic indeed, and would be but a kind of gross way of receiving a lover
here, according to our English good breeding; but there is a great deal
of reason in the inquiry, that must be confessed; and he that is not
able to _pay the charges_, should never begin the journey; for, be the
wife what she will, the very state of life that naturally attends the
marrying a woman, brings with it an expense so very considerable, that a
tradesman ought to consider very well of it before he engages.
But it is to be observed, too, that abundance of young tradesmen,
especially in England, not only marry early, but by the so marrying they
are obliged to take up with much less fortunes in their haste, than when
they allow themselves longer time of consideration. As it stands now,
generally speaking, the wife and the shop make their first show
together; but how few of these early marriages succeed--how hard such a
tradesman finds it to stand, and support the weight that attends it--I
appeal to the experience of those, who having taken this wrong step, and
being with difficulty got over it, are yet good judges of that
particular circumstance in others that come after them.[22]
I know it is a common cry that is raised against the woman, when her
husband fails in business, namely, that it is the wife has ruined him;
it is true, in some particular cases it may be so, but in general it is
wrong placed--they may say marrying has ruined the man, when they cannot
say his wife has done it, for the woman was not in fault, but her
husband.
When a tradesman marries, there are necessary consequences, I mean of
expenses, which the wife ought not be charged with, and cannot be made
accountable for--such as, first, furnishing the house; and let this be
done with the utmost plainness, so as to be decent; yet it must be done,
and this calls for ready money, and that ready money by so much
diminishes his stock in trade; nor is the wife at all to be charged in
this case, unless she either put him to more charge than was needful, or
showed herself dissatisfied with things needful, and required
extravagant gaiety and expense. Secondly, servants, if the man was
frugal before, it may be he shifted with a shop, and a servant in it, an
apprentice, or journeyman, or perhaps without one at first, and a
lodging for himself, where he kept no other servant, and so his expenses
went on small and easy; or if he was obliged to take a house because of
his business and the situation of his shop, he then either let part of
the house out to lodgers, keeping himself a chamber in it, or at the
worst left it unfurnished, and without any one but a maid-servant to
dress his victuals, and keep the house clean; and thus he goes on when a
bachelor, with a middling expense at most.
But when he brings home a wife, besides the furnishing his house, he
must have a formal house-keeping, even at the very first; and as
children come on, more servants, that is, maids, or nurses, that are as
necessary as the bread he eats--especially if he multiplies apace, as he
ought to suppose he may--in this case let the wife be frugal and
managing, let her be unexceptionable in her expense, yet the man finds
his charge mount high, and perhaps too high for his gettings,
notwithstanding the additional stock obtained by her portion. And what
is the end of this but inevitable decay, and at last poverty and ruin?
Nay, the more the woman is blameless, the more certain is his overthrow,
for if it was an expense that was extravagant and unnecessary, and that
his wife ran him out by her high living and gaiety, he might find ways
to retrench, to take up in time, and prevent the mischief that is in
view. A woman may, with kindness and just reasoning, be easily
convinced, that her husband cannot maintain such an expense as she now
lives at; and let tradesmen say what they will, and endeavour to excuse
themselves as much as they will, by loading their wives with the blame
of their miscarriage, as I have known some do, and as old father Adam,
though in another case, did before them, I must say so much in the
woman's behalf at a venture. It will be very hard to make me believe
that any woman, that was not fit for Bedlam, if her husband truly and
timely represented his case to her, and how far he was or was not able
to maintain the expense of their way of living, would not comply with
her husband's circumstances, and retrench her expenses, rather than go
on for a while, and come to poverty and misery. Let, then, the tradesman
lay it early and seriously before his wife, and with kindness and
plainness tell her his circumstances, or never let him pretend to charge
her with being the cause of his ruin. Let him tell her how great his
annual expense is; for a woman who receives what she wants as she wants
it, that only takes it with one hand, and lays it out with another, does
not, and perhaps cannot, always keep an account, or cast up how much it
comes to by the year. Let her husband, therefore, I say, tell her
honestly how much his expense for her and himself amounts to yearly; and
tell her as honestly, that it is too much for him, that his income in
trade will not answer it; that he goes backward, and the last year his
family expenses amounted to so much, say £400--for that is but an
ordinary sum now for a tradesman to spend, whatever it has been esteemed
formerly--and that his whole trade, though he made no bad debts, and had
no losses, brought him in but £320 the whole year, so that he was £80
that year a worse man than he was before, that this coming year he had
met with a heavy loss already, having had a shopkeeper in the country
broke in his debt £200, and that he offered but eight shillings in the
pound, so that he should lose £120 by him, and that this, added to the
£80 run out last year, came to £200, and that if they went on thus, they
should be soon reduced.
What could the woman say to so reasonable a discourse, if she was a
woman of any sense, but to reply, she would do any thing that lay in her
to assist him, and if her way of living was too great for him to
support, she would lessen it as he should direct, or as much as he
thought was reasonable?--and thus, going hand in hand, she and he
together abating what reason required, they might bring their expenses
within the compass of their gettings, and be able to go on again
comfortably.
But now, when the man, finding his expenses greater than his income, and
yet, when he looks into those expenses, finds that his wife is frugal
too, and industrious, and applies diligently to the managing her family,
and bringing up her children, spends nothing idly, saves every thing
that can be saved; that instead of keeping too many servants, is a
servant to every body herself; and that, in short, when he makes the
strictest examination, finds she lays out nothing but what is absolutely
necessary, what now must this man do? He is ruined inevitably--for all
his expense is necessary; there is no retrenching, no abating any thing.
This, I say, is the worst case of the two indeed; and this man, though
he may say he is undone by marrying, yet cannot blame the woman, and say
he is undone by his wife. This is the very case I am speaking of; the
man should not have married so soon; he should have staid till he had,
by pushing on his trade, and living close in his expense, increased his
stock, and been what we call beforehand in the world; and had he done
thus, he had not been undone by marrying.
It is a little hard to say it, but in this respect it is very true,
there is many a young tradesman ruined by marrying a good wife--in
which, pray take notice that I observe my own just distinction: I do
not say they are ruined or undone by a good wife, or by their wives
being good, but by their marrying--their unseasonable, early, and hasty
marrying--before they had cast up the cost of one, or the income of the
other--before they had inquired into the necessary charge of a wife and
a family, or seen the profits of their business, whether it would
maintain them or no; and whether, as above, they could pay the charges,
the increasing necessary charge, of a large and growing family. How to
persuade young men to consider this in time, and beware and avoid the
mischief of it, that is a question by itself.
Let no man, then, when he is brought to distress by this early rashness,
turn short upon his wife, and reproach her with being the cause of his
ruin, unless, at the same time, he can charge her with extravagant
living, needless expense, squandering away his money, spending it in
trifles and toys, and running him out till the shop could not maintain
the kitchen, much less the parlour; nor even then, unless he had given
her timely notice of it, and warned her that he was not able to maintain
so large a family, or so great an expense, and that, therefore, she
would do well to consider of it, and manage with a straiter hand, and
the like. If, indeed, he had done so, and she had not complied with him,
then she had been guilty, and without excuse too; but as the woman
cannot judge of his affairs, and he sees and bears a share in the
riotous way of their living, and does not either show his dislike of it,
or let her know, by some means or other, that he cannot support it, the
woman cannot be charged with being his ruin--no, though her way of
extravagant expensive living were really the cause of it. I met with a
short dialogue, the other day, between a tradesman and his wife, upon
such a subject as this, some part of which may be instructing in the
case before us.
The tradesman was very melancholy for two or three days, and had
appeared all that time to be pensive and sad, and his wife, with all her
arts, entreaties, anger, and tears, could not get it out of him; only
now and then she heard him fetch a deep sigh, and at another time say,
he wished he was dead, and the like expressions. At last, she began the
discourse with him in a respectful, obliging manner, but with the utmost
importunity to get it out of him, thus:--
_Wife_.--My dear, what is the matter with you?
_Husb._--Nothing.
_Wife_.--Nay, don't put me off with an answer that signifies nothing;
tell me what is the matter, for I am sure something extraordinary is the
case--tell me, I say, do tell me. [_Then she kisses him._]
_Husb._--Prithee, don't trouble me.
_Wife_.--I will know what is the matter
_Husb._--I tell you nothing is the matter--what should be the matter?
_Wife_.--Come, my dear, I must not be put off so; I am sure, if it be
any thing ill, I must have my share of it; and why should I not be
worthy to know it, whatever it is, before it comes upon me.
_Husb._--Poor woman! [_He kisses her_.]
_Wife_.--Well, but let me know what it is; come, don't distract yourself
alone; let me bear a share of your grief, as well as I have shared in
your joy.
_Husb._--My dear, let me alone, you trouble me now, indeed.
_[Still he keeps her off_.]
_Wife_.--Then you will not trust your wife with knowing what touches you
so sensibly?
_Husb._--I tell you, it is nothing, it is a trifle, it is not worth
talking of.
_Wife_.--Don't put me off with such stuff as that; I tell you, it is not
for nothing that you have been so concerned, and that so long too; I
have seen it plain enough; why, you have drooped upon it for this
fortnight past, and above.
_Husb._--Ay, this twelvemonth, and more.
_Wife_.--Very well, and yet it is nothing.
_Husb._--It is nothing that you can help me in.
_Wife_.--Well, but how do you know that? Let me see, and judge whether I
can, or no.
_Husb._--I tell you, you cannot.
_Wife_.--Sure it is some terrible thing then. Why must not I know it?
What! are you going to break? Come, tell me the worst of it.
_Husb._--Break! no, no, I hope not--Break! no, I'll never break.
_Wife_.--As good as you have broke; don't presume; no man in trade can
say he won't break.
_Husb._--Yes, yes; I can say I won't break.
_Wife_.--I am glad to hear it; I hope you have a knack, then, beyond
other tradesmen.
_Husb._--No, I have not neither; any man may say so as well as I; and no
man need break, if he will act the part of an honest man.
_Wife_.--How is that, pray?
_Husb._--Why, give up all faithfully to his creditors, as soon as he
finds there is a deficiency in his stock, and yet that there is enough
left to pay them.
_Wife_.--Well, I don't understand those things, but I desire you would
tell me what it is troubles you now; and if it be any thing of that
kind, yet I think you should let me know it.
_Husb._--Why should I trouble you with it?
_Wife_.--It would be very unkind to let me know nothing till it comes
and swallows you up and me too, all on a sudden; I must know it, then;
pray tell it me now.
_Husb._--Why, then, I will tell you; indeed, I am not going to break,
and I hope I am in no danger of it, at least not yet.
_Wife_.--I thank you, my dear, for that; but still, though it is some
satisfaction to me to be assured of so much, yet I find there is
something in it; and your way of speaking is ambiguous and doubtful. I
entreat you, be plain and free with me. What is at the bottom of
it?--why won't you tell me?--what have I done, that I am not to be
trusted with a thing that so nearly concerns me?
_Husb._--I have told you, my dear; pray be easy; I am not going to
break, I tell you.
_Wife_.--Well, but let us talk a little more seriously of it; you are
not going to break, that is, not just now, not yet, you said; but, my
dear, if it is then not just at hand, but may happen, or is in view at
some distance, may not some steps be taken to prevent it for the
present, and to save us from it at last too.
_Husb._--What steps could you think of, if that were the case?
_Wife_.--Indeed it is not much that is in a wife's power, but I am ready
to do what lies in me, and what becomes me; and first, pray let us live
lower. Do you think I would live as I do, if I thought your income would
not bear it? No, indeed.
_Husb._--You have touched me in the most sensible part, my dear; you
have found out what has been my grief; you need make no further
inquiries.
_Wife_.--Was that your grief?--and would you never be so kind to your
wife as to let her know it?
_Husb._--How could I mention so unkind a thing to you?
_Wife_.--Would it not have been more unkind to have let things run on to
destruction, and left your wife to the reproach of the world, as having
ruined you by her expensive living?
_Husb._--That's true, my dear; and it may be I might have spoke to you
at last, but I could not do it now; it looks so cruel and so hard to
lower your figure, and make you look little in the eyes of the world,
for you know they judge all by outsides, that I could not bear it.
_Wife_.--It would be a great deal more cruel to let me run on, and be
really an instrument to ruin, my husband, when, God knows, I thought I
was within the compass of your gettings, and that a great way; and you
know you always prompted me to go fine, to treat handsomely, to keep
more servants, and every thing of that kind. Could I doubt but that you
could afford it very well?
_Husb._--That's true, but I see it is otherwise now; and though I cannot
help it, I could not mention it to you, nor, for ought I know, should I
ever have done it.
_Wife_.--Why! you said just now you should have done it.
_Husb._--Ay, at last, perhaps, I might, when things had been past
recovery.
_Wife_.--That is to say, when you were ruined and undone, and could not
show your head, I should know it; or when a statute of bankrupt had come
out, and the creditors had come and turned us out of doors, then I
should have known it--that would have been a barbarous sort of kindness.
_Husb._--What could I do? I could not help it.
_Wife_.--Just so our old acquaintance G--W--did; his poor wife knew not
one word of it, nor so much as suspected it, but thought him in as
flourishing circumstances as ever; till on a sudden he was arrested in
an action for a great sum, so great that he could not find bail, and the
next day an execution on another action was served in the house, and
swept away the very bed from under her; and the poor lady, that brought
him £3000 portion, was turned into the street with five small children
to take care of.
_Husb._--Her case was very sad, indeed.
_Wife_.--But was not he a barbarous wretch to her, to let her know
nothing of her circumstances? She was at the ball but the day before, in
her velvet suit, and with her jewels on, and they reproach her with it
every day.
_Husb._--She did go too fine, indeed.
_Wife_.--Do you think she would have done so, if she had known any thing
of his circumstances?
_Husb._--It may be not.
_Wife_.--No, no; she is a lady of too much sense, to allow us to suggest
it.
_Husb._--And why did he not let her have some notice of it?
_Wife_.--Why, he makes the same dull excuse you speak of; he could not
bear to speak to her of it, and it looked so unkind to do any thing to
straiten her, he could not do it, it would break his heart, and the
like; and now he has broke her heart.
_Husb._--I know it is hard to break in upon one's wife in such a manner,
where there is any true kindness and affection; but--
_Wife_.--But! but what? Were there really a true kindness and affection,
as is the pretence, it would be quite otherwise; he would not break his
own heart, forsooth, but chose rather to break his wife's heart! he
could not be so cruel to tell her of it, and therefore left her to be
cruelly and villanously insulted, as she was, by the bailiffs and
creditors. Was that his kindness to her?
_Husb._--Well, my dear, I have not brought you to that, I hope.
_Wife_.--No, my dear, and I hope you will not; however, you shall not say
I will not do every thing I can to prevent it; and, if it lies on my
side, you are safe.
_Husb._--What will you do to prevent it? Come, let's see, what can you
do?
_Wife_.--Why, first, I keep five maids, you see, and a footman; I shall
immediately give three of my maids warning, and the fellow also, and
save you that part of the expense.
_Husb._--How can you do that?--you can't do your business.
_Wife_.--Yes, yes, there's nobody knows what they can do till they are
tried; two maids may do all my house-business, and I'll look after my
children myself; and if I live to see them grown a little bigger, I'll
make them help one another, and keep but one maid; I hope that will be
one step towards helping it.
_Husb_.--And what will all your friends and acquaintance, and the world,
say to it?
_Wife_.--Not half so much as they would to see you break, and the world
believe it be by my high living, keeping a house full of servants, and
do nothing myself.
_Husb_.--They will say I am going to break upon your doing thus, and
that's the way to make it so.
_Wife_.--I had rather a hundred should say you were going to break, than
one could say you were really broke already.
_Husb_.--But it is dangerous to have it talked of, I say.
_Wife_.--No, no; they will say we are taking effectual ways to prevent
breaking.
_Husb_.--But it will put a slur upon yourself too. I cannot bear any
mortifications upon you, any more than I can upon myself.
_Wife_.--Don't tell me of mortifications; it would be a worse
mortification, a thousand times over, to have you ruined, and have your
creditors insult me with being the occasion of it.
_Husb_.--It is very kind in you, my dear, and I must always acknowledge
it; but, however, I would not have you straiten yourself too much
neither.
_Wife_.--Nay, this will not be so much a mortification as the natural
consequence of other things; for, in order to abate the expense of our
living, I resolve to keep less company. I assure you I will lay down all
the state of living, as well as the expense of it; and, first, I will
keep no visiting days; secondly, I'll drop the greatest part of the
acquaintance I have; thirdly, I will lay down our treats and
entertainments, and the like needless occasions of expense, and then I
shall have no occasion for so many maids.
_Husb_.--But this, my dear, I say, will make as much noise almost, as if
I were actually broke.
_Wife_.--No, no; leave that part to me.
_Husb_.--But you may tell me how you will manage it then.
_Wife_.--Why, I'll go into the country.
_Husb_.--That will but bring them after you, as it used to do.
_Wife_.--But I'll put off our usual lodgings at Hampstead, and give out
that I am gone to spend the summer in Bedfordshire, at my aunt's, where
every body knows I used to go sometimes; they can't come after me
thither.
_Husb_.--But when you return, they will all visit you.
_Wife_.--Yes, and I will make no return to all those I have a mind to
drop, and there's an end of all their acquaintance at once.
_Husb_.--And what must I do?
_Wife_.--Nay, my dear, it is not for me to direct that part; you know
how to cure the evil which you sensibly feel the mischief of. If I do my
part, I don't doubt you know how to do yours.
_Husb_.--Yes, I know, but it is hard, very hard.
_Wife_.--Nay, I hope it is no harder for you than it is for your wife.
_Husb_.--That is true, indeed, but I'll see.
_Wife_.--The question to me is not whether it is hard, but whether it is
necessary.
_Husb_.--Nay, it is necessary, that is certain.
_Wife_.--Then I hope it is as necessary to you as to your wife.
_Husb_.--I know not where to begin.
_Wife_.--Why, you keep two horses and a groom, you keep rich high
company, and you sit long at the Fleece every evening. I need say no
more; you know where to begin well enough.
_Husb_.--It is very hard; I have not your spirit, my dear.
_Wife_.--I hope you are not more ashamed to retrench, than you would be
to have your name in the Gazette.
_Husb_.--It is sad work to come down hill thus.
_Wife_.--It would be worse to fall down at one blow from the top; better
slide gently and voluntarily down the smooth part, than to be pushed
down the precipice, and be dashed all in pieces.
There was more of this dialogue, but I give the part which I think most
to the present purpose; and as I strive to shorten the doctrine, so I
will abridge the application also; the substance of the case lies in a
few particulars, thus:--
I. The man was melancholy, and oppressed with the thoughts of his
declining circumstances, and yet had not any thought of letting his wife
know it, whose way of living was high and expensive, and more than he
could support; but though it must have ended in ruin, he would rather
let it have gone on till she was surprised in it, than to tell her the
danger that was before her.
His wife very well argues the injustice and unkindness of such usage,
and how hard it was to a wife, who, being of necessity to suffer in the
fall, ought certainly to have the most early notice of it--that, if
possible, she might prevent it, or, at least, that she might not be
overwhelmed with the suddenness and the terror of it.
II. Upon discovering it to his wife, or rather her drawing the
discovery from him by her importunity, she immediately, and most
readily and cheerfully, enters into measures to retrench her expenses,
and, as far as she was able, to prevent the blow, which was otherwise
apparent and unavoidable.
Hence it is apparent, that the expensive living of most tradesmen in
their families, is for want of a serious acquainting their wives with
their circumstances, and acquainting them also in time; for there are
very few ladies so unreasonable, who, if their husbands seriously
informed them how things stood with them, and that they could not
support their way of living, would not willingly come into measures to
prevent their own destruction.
III. That it is in vain, as well as unequal, for a tradesman to preach
frugality to his wife, and to bring his wife to a retrenching of her
expenses, and not at the same time to retrench his own; seeing that
keeping horses and high company is every way as great and expensive, and
as necessary to be abated, as any of the family extravagances, let them
be which they will.
All this relates to the duty of a tradesman in preventing his family
expenses being ruinous to his business; but the true method to prevent
all this, and never to let it come so far, is still, as I said before,
not to marry too soon; not to marry, till by a frugal industrious
management of his trade in the beginning, he has laid a foundation for
maintaining a wife, and bringing up a family, and has made an essay by
which he knows what he can and cannot do, and also before he has laid up
and increased his stock, that he may not cripple his fortune at first,
and be ruined before he has begun to thrive.
FOOTNOTES:
[22] [Defoe's views on the subject of the too early marrying of young
tradesmen, are in every particular sound. Though there are instances of
premature marriages followed by no evil result, but rather the contrary,
there can be no doubt, that the only prudent course is to wait till a
settlement in life, and a regular income, have been secured. A young
man, anxious for other reasons to marry, is sometimes heard to express
his conviction that he might live more cheaply married than single.
There could be no assertion more inconsistent with all common
experience. Even if no positively ruinous consequences arise from an
over-early marriage, it almost always occasions much hardship. It
saddens a period of life which nature has designed to be peculiarly
cheerful. The whole life of such a man becomes like a year in which
there has been no May or June. The grave cares of matrimony do not
appear to be naturally suitable to the human character, till the man has
approached his thirtieth, and the woman her twenty-fourth year.]