OF TRADESMEN RUINING ONE ANOTHER BY RUMOUR AND CLAMOUR, BY SCANDAL AND
REPROACH
I have dwelt long upon the tradesman's management of himself, in order
to his due preserving both his business and his reputation: let me
bestow one chapter upon the tradesman for his conduct among his
neighbours and fellow-tradesmen.
Credit is so much a tradesman's blessing that it is the choicest ware he
deals in, and he cannot be too chary of it when he has it, or buy it too
dear when he wants it; it is a stock to his warehouse, it is current
money in his cash-chest, it accepts all his bills, for it is on the fund
of his credit that he has any bills to accept; demands would else be
made upon the spot, and he must pay for his goods before he has
them--therefore, I say, it accepts all his bills, and oftentimes pays
them too; in a word, it is the life and soul of his trade, and it
requires his utmost vigilance to preserve it.
If, then, his own credit should be of so much value to him, and he
should be so nice in his concern about it, he ought in some degree to
have the same care of his neighbour's. Religion teaches us not to
slander and defame our neighbour, that is to say, not to raise or
promote any slander or scandal upon his good name. As a good name is to
another man, and which the wise man says, 'is better than life,' the
same is credit to a tradesman--it is the life of his trade; and he that
wounds a tradesman's credit without cause, is as much a murderer in
trade, as he that kills a man in the dark is a murderer in matters of
blood.
Besides, there is a particular nicety in the credit of a tradesman,
which does not reach in other cases: a man is slandered in his
character, or reputation, and it is injurious; and if it comes in the
way of a marriage, or of a preferment, or post, it may disappoint and
ruin him; but if this happens to a tradesman, he is immediately and
unavoidably blasted and undone; a tradesman has but two sorts of enemies
to encounter with, namely, thieves breaking open his shop, and ill
neighbours blackening and blasting his reputation; and the latter are
the worst thieves of the two, by a great deal; and, therefore, people
should indeed be more chary of their discourse of tradesmen, than of
other men, and that as they would not be guilty of murder. I knew an
author of a book, who was drawn in unwarily, and without design, to
publish a scandalous story of a tradesman in London. He (the author) was
imposed upon by a set of men, who did it maliciously, and he was utterly
ignorant of the wicked design; nor did he know the person, but rashly
published the thing, being himself too fond of a piece of news, which he
thought would be grateful to his readers; nor yet did he publish the
person's name, so cautious he was, though that was not enough, as it
proved, for the person was presently published by those who had
maliciously done it.
The scandal spread; the tradesman, a flourishing man, and a considerable
dealer, was run upon by it with a torrent of malice; a match which he
was about with a considerable fortune was blasted and prevented, and
that indeed was the malicious end of the people that did it; nor did it
stop there--it brought his creditors upon him, it ruined him, it brought
out a commission of bankrupt against him, it broke his heart, and killed
him; and after his death, his debts and effects coming in, there
appeared to be seven shillings in the pound estate, clear and good over
and above all demands, all his debts discharged, and all the expenses of
the statute paid.
It was to no purpose that the man purged himself of the crime laid to
his charge--that the author, who had ignorantly and rashly published the
scandal, declared himself ignorant; the man was run down by a torrent of
reproach; scandal oppressed him; he was buried alive in the noise and
dust raised both against his morals and his credit, and yet his
character was proved good, and his bottom in trade was so too, as I have
said above.
It is not the least reason of my publishing this to add, that even the
person who was ignorantly made the instrument of publishing the scandal,
was not able to retrieve it, or to prevent the man's ruin by all the
public reparation he could make in print, and by all the acknowledgement
he could make of his having been ignorantly drawn in to do it. And this
I mention for the honest tradesman's caution, and to put him in mind,
that when he has unwarily let slip anything to the wounding the
reputation of his neighbour tradesman, whether in his trading credit, or
the credit of his morals, it may not be in his power to unsay it again,
that is, so as to prevent the ruin of the person; and though it may
grieve him as long as he lives, as the like did the author I mention,
yet it is not in his power to recall it, or to heal the wound he has
given; and that he should consider very well of beforehand.
A tradesman's credit and a virgin's virtue ought to be equally sacred
from the tongues of men; and it is a very unhappy truth, that as times
now go, they are neither of them regarded among us as they ought to be.
The tea-table among the ladies, and the coffee-house among the men, seem
to be places of new invention for a depravation of our manners and
morals, places devoted to scandal, and where the characters of all
kinds of persons and professions are handled in the most merciless
manner, where reproach triumphs, and we seem to give ourselves a loose
to fall upon one another in the most unchristian and unfriendly manner
in the world.
It seems a little hard that the reputation of a young lady, or of a
new-married couple, or of people in the most critical season of
establishing the characters of their persons and families, should lie at
the mercy of the tea-table; nor is it less hard, that the credit of a
tradesman, which is the same thing in its nature as the virtue of a
lady, should be tossed about, shuttle-cock-like, from one table to
another, in the coffee-house, till they shall talk all his creditors
about his ears, and bring him to the very misfortune which they reported
him to be near, when at the same time he owed them nothing who raised
the clamour, and owed nothing to all the world, but what he was able to
pay.
And yet how many tradesmen have been thus undone, and how many more have
been put to the full trial of their strength in trade, and have stood by
the mere force of their good circumstances; whereas, had they been
unfurnished with cash to have answered their whole debts, they must have
fallen with the rest.
We need go no farther than Lombard Street for an exemplification of this
truth. There was a time when Lombard Street was the only bank, and the
goldsmiths there were all called bankers. The credit of their business
was such, that the like has not been seen in England since, in private
hands: some of those bankers, as I have had from their own mouths, have
had near two millions of paper credit upon them at a time; that is to
say, have had bills under their hands running abroad for so much at a
time.
On a sudden, like a clap of thunder, King Charles II. shut up the
Exchequer, which was the common centre of the overplus cash these great
bankers had in their hands. What was the consequence? Not only the
bankers who had the bulk of their cash there, but all Lombard Street,
stood still. The very report of having money in the Exchequer brought a
run upon the goldsmiths that had no money there, as well as upon those
that had, and not only Sir Robert Viner, Alderman Backwell, Farringdon,
Forth, and others, broke and failed, but several were ruined who had not
a penny of money in the Exchequer, and only sunk by the rumour of it;
that rumour bringing a run upon the whole street, and giving a check to
the paper credit that was run up to such an exorbitant height.
I remember a shopkeeper who one time took the liberty (foolish liberty!)
with himself, in public company in a coffee-house, to say that he was
broke. 'I assure you,' says he, 'that I am broke, and to-morrow I
resolve to shut up my shop, and call my creditors together.' His meaning
was, that he had a brother just dead in his house, and the next day was
to be buried, when, in civility to the deceased, he kept his shop shut;
and several people whom he dealt with, and owed money to, were the next
day invited to the funeral, so that he did actually shut up his shop,
and call some of his creditors together.
But he sorely repented the jest which he put upon himself. 'Are you
broke?' says one of his friends to him, that was in the coffee-house;
'then I wish I had the little money you owe me' (which however, it
seems, was not much). Says the other, still carrying on his jest, 'I
shall pay nobody, till, as I told you, I have called my people
together.' The other did not reach his jest, which at best was but a
dull one, but he reached that part of it that concerned himself, and
seeing him continue carelessly sitting in the shop, slipped out, and,
fetching a couple of sergeants, arrested him. The other was a little
surprised; but however, the debt being no great sum, he paid it, and
when he found his mistake, told his friends what he meant by his being
broke.
But it did not end there; for other people of his neighbours, who were
then in the coffee-house, and heard his discourse, and had thought
nothing more of it, yet in the morning seeing his shop shut, concluded
the thing was so indeed, and immediately it went over the whole street
that such a one was broke; from thence it went to the Exchange, and from
thence into the country, among all his dealers, who came up in a throng
and a fright to look after him. In a word, he had as much to do to
prevent his breaking as any man need to desire, and if he had not had
very good friends as well as a very good bottom, he had inevitably been
ruined and undone.
So small a rumour will overset a tradesman, if he is not very careful of
himself; and if a word in jest from himself, which though indeed no man
that had considered things, or thought before he spoke, would have said
(and, on the other hand, no man who had been wise and thinking would
have taken as it was taken)--I say, if a word taken from the tradesman's
own mouth could be so fatal, and run such a dangerous length, what may
not words spoken slyly, and secretly, and maliciously, be made to do?
A tradesman's reputation is of the nicest nature imaginable; like a
blight upon a fine flower, if it is but touched, the beauty of it, or
the flavour of it, or the seed of it, is lost, though the noxious breath
which touched it might not reach to blast the leaf, or hurt the root;
the credit of a tradesman, at least in his beginning, is too much at the
mercy of every enemy he has, till it has taken root, and is established
on a solid foundation of good conduct and success. It is a sad truth,
that every idle tongue can blast a young shopkeeper; and therefore,
though I would not discourage any young beginner, yet it is highly
beneficial to alarm them, and to let them know that they must expect a
storm of scandal and reproach upon the least slip they make: if they but
stumble, fame will throw them down; it is true, if they recover, she
will set them up as fast; but malice generally runs before, and bears
down all with it; and there are ten tradesmen who fall under the weight
of slander and an ill tongue, to one that is lifted up again by the
common hurry of report.
To say I am broke, or in danger of breaking, is to break me: and though
sometimes the malicious occasion is discovered, and the author detected
and exposed, yet how seldom is it so; and how much oftener are ill
reports raised to ruin and run down a tradesman, and the credit of a
shop; and like an arrow that flies in the dark, it wounds unseen. The
authors, no nor the occasion of these reports, are never discovered
perhaps, or so much as rightly guessed at; and the poor tradesman feels
the wound, receives the deadly blow, and is perhaps mortally stabbed in
the vitals of his trade, I mean his trading credit, and never knows who
hurt him.
I must say, in the tradesman's behalf, that he is in such a case to be
esteemed a sacrifice to the worst and most hellish of all secret crimes,
I mean envy; which is made up of every hateful vice, a complication of
crimes which nothing but the worst of God's reasonable world can be
guilty of; and he will indeed merit and call for every honest man's pity
and concern. But what relief is this to him? for, in the meantime,
though the devil himself were the raiser of the scandal, yet it shall go
about; the blow shall take, and every man, though at the same time
expressing their horror and aversion at the thing, shall yet not be
able, no not themselves, to say they receive no impression from it.
Though I know the clamour or rumour was raised maliciously, and from a
secret envy at the prosperity of the man, yet if I deal with him, it
will in spite of all my abhorrence of the thing, in spite of all my
willingness to do justice, I say it will have some little impression
upon me, it will be some shock to my confidence in the man; and though I
know the devil is a liar, a slanderer, a calumniator, and that his name
_devil_ is derived from it; and that I knew, if that, as I said, were
possible, that the devil in his proper person raised and began, and
carried on, this scandal upon the tradesman, yet there is a secret
lurking doubt (about him), which hangs about me concerning him; the
devil is a liar, but he may happen to speak truth just then, he may
chance to be right, and I know not what there may be in it, and whether
there may be any thing or no, but I will have a little care, &c.
Thus, insensibly and involuntarily, nay, in spite of friendship, good
wishes, and even resolution to the contrary, it is almost impossible to
prevent our being shocked by rumour, and we receive an impression
whether we will or not, and that from the worst enemy; there is such a
powerful sympathy between our thoughts and our interest, that the first
being but touched, and that in the lightest manner imaginable, we cannot
help it, caution steps on in behalf of the last, and the man is jealous
and afraid, in spite of all the kindest and best intentions in the
world.
Nor is it only dangerous in case of false accusations and false charges,
for those indeed are to be expected fatal; but even just and true things
may be as fatal as false, for the truth is not always necessary to be
said of a tradesman: many things a tradesman may perhaps allow himself
to do, and may be lawfully done, but if they should be known to be part
of his character, it would sink deep into his trading fame, his credit
would suffer by it, and in the end it might be his ruin; so that he that
would not set his hand to his neighbour's ruin, should as carefully
avoid speaking some truths, as raising some forgeries upon him.
Of what fatal consequence, then, is the raising rumours and suspicions
upon the credit and characters of young tradesmen! and how little do
those who are forward to raise such suspicions, and spread such rumours,
consult conscience, or principle, or honour, in what they do! How little
do they consider that they are committing a trading murder, and that, in
respect to the justice of it, they may with much more equity break open
the tradesman's house, and rob his cash-chest, or his shop; and what
they can carry away thence will not do him half the injury that robbing
his character of what is due to it from an upright and diligent conduct,
would do. The loss of his money or goods is easily made up, and may be
sometimes repaired with advantage, but the loss of credit is never
repaired; the one is breaking open his house, but the other is burning
it down; the one carries away some goods, but the other shuts goods out
from coming in; one is hurting the tradesman, but the other is undoing
him.
Credit is the tradesman's life; it is, as the wise man says, 'marrow to
his bones;' it is by this that all his affairs go on prosperously and
pleasantly; if this be hurt, wounded, or weakened, the tradesman is
sick, hangs his head, is dejected and discouraged; and if he does go on,
it is heavily and with difficulty, as well as with disadvantage; he is
beholding to his fund of cash, not his friends; and he may be truly said
to stand upon his own legs, for nothing else can do it.
And therefore, on the other hand, if such a man is any way beholding to
his credit, if he stood before upon the foundation of his credit, if he
owes any thing considerable, it is a thousand to one but he sinks under
the oppression of it; that is to say, it brings every body upon him--I
mean, every one that has any demand upon him--for in pushing for their
own, especially in such cases, men have so little mercy, and are so
universally persuaded that he that comes first is first served, that I
did not at all wonder, that in the story of the tradesman who so
foolishly exposed himself in the coffee-house, as above, his friend whom
he said the words to, began with him that very night, and before he went
out of the coffee-house; it was rather a wonder to me he did not go out
and bring in half-a-dozen more upon him the same evening.
It is very rarely that men are wanting to their own interest; and the
jealousy of its being but in danger, is enough to make men forget, not
friendship only, and generosity, but good manners, civility, and even
justice itself, and fall upon the best friends they have in the world,
if they think they are in the least danger of suffering by them.
On these accounts it is, and many more, that a tradesman walks in
continual jeopardy, from the looseness and inadvertency of men's
tongues, ay, and women's too; for though I am all along very tender of
the ladies, and would do justice to the sex, by telling you, they were
not the dangerous people whom I had in view in my first writing upon
this subject, yet I must be allowed to say, that they are sometimes
fully even with the men, for ill usage, when they please to fall upon
them in this nice article, in revenge for any slight, or but pretended
slight, put upon them.
It was a terrible revenge a certain lady, who was affronted by a
tradesman in London, in a matter of love, took upon him in this very
article. It seems a tradesman had courted her some time, and it was
become public, as a thing in a manner concluded, when the tradesman left
the lady a little abruptly, without giving a good reason for it, and,
indeed, she afterwards discovered, that he had left her for the offer of
another with a little more money, and that, when he had done so, he
reported that it was for another reason, which reflected a little on the
person of the lady; and in this the tradesman did very unworthily
indeed, and deserved her resentment: but, as I said, it was a terrible
revenge she took, and what she ought not to have done.
First, she found out who it was that her former pretended lover had been
recommended to, and she found means to have it insinuated to her by a
woman-friend, that he was not only rakish and wicked, but, in short,
that he had a particular illness, and went so far as to produce letters
from him to a quack-doctor, for directions to him how to take his
medicines, and afterwards a receipt for money for the cure; though both
the letters and receipt also, as afterwards appeared, were forged, in
which she went a dismal length in her revenge, as you may see.
Then she set two or three female instruments to discourse her case in
all their gossips' companies, and at the tea-tables wherever they came,
and to magnify the lady's prudence in refusing such a man, and what an
escape she had had in being clear of him.
'Why,' says a lady to one of these emissaries, 'what was the matter? I
thought she was like to be very well married.'
'Oh no, Madam! by no means,' says the emissary.
'Why, Madam,' says another lady, 'we all know Mr H----; he is a very
pretty sort of a man.'
'Ay, Madam,' says the emissary again, 'but you know a pretty man is not
all that is required.'
'Nay,' says the lady again, 'I don't mean so; he is no beauty, no rarity
that way; but I mean a clever good sort of a man in his business, such
as we call a pretty tradesman.'
'Ay,' says the lady employed, 'but that is not all neither.'
'Why,' says the other lady, 'he has a very good trade too, and lives in
good credit.'
'Yes,' says malice, 'he has some of the first, but not too much of the
last, I suppose.'
'No!' says the lady; 'I thought his credit had been very good.'
'If it had, I suppose,' says the first, 'the match had not been broke
off.'
'Why,' says the lady, 'I understood it was broken off on his side.'
'And so did I,' says another.
'And so did I, indeed,' says a third.
'Oh, Madam!' says the tool, 'nothing like it, I assure you.'
'Indeed,' says another, I understood he had quitted Mrs----, because she
had not fortune enough for him, and that he courted another certain
lady, whom we all know.'
Then the ladies fell to talking of the circumstances of his leaving her,
and how he had broken from her abruptly and unmannerly, and had been too
free with her character; at which the first lady, that is to say, the
emissary, or tool, as I call her, took it up a little warmly, thus:--
1. _Lady_.--Well, you see, ladies, how easily a lady's reputation may be
injured; I hope you will not go away with it so.
2. _Lady_.--Nay, we have all of us a respect for Mrs----, and some of us
visit there sometimes; I believe none of us would be willing to injure
her.
1. _Lady_.--But indeed, ladies, she is very much injured in that story.
2. _Lady_.--Indeed, it is generally understood so, and every body
believes it.
1. _Lady_.--I can assure you it is quite otherwise in fact.
2. _Lady_.--I believe he reports it so himself, and that with some very
odd things about the lady too.
1. _Lady_.--The more base unworthy fellow he.
2. _Lady_.--Especially if he knows it to be otherwise.
1. _Lady_.--Especially if he knows the contrary to be true, Madam.
2. _Lady_.--Is that possible? Did he not refuse her, then?
1. _Lady_.--Nothing like it, Madam; but just the contrary.
2. _Lady_.--You surprise me!
3. _Lady_.--I am very glad to hear it, for her sake.
1. _Lady_.--I can assure you, Madam, she had refused him, and that he
knows well enough, which has been one of the reasons that has made him
abuse her as he has done.
2. _Lady_.--Indeed, she has been used very ill by him, or somebody for
him.
1. _Lady_.--Yes, he has reported strange things, but they are all lies.
2. _Lady_.--Well; but pray, Madam, what was the reason, if we may be so
free, that she turned him off after she had entertained him so long?
1. _Lady_.--Oh, Madam! reason enough; I wonder he should pretend, when
he knew his own circumstances too, to court a lady of her fortune.
2. _Lady_.--Why, are not his circumstances good, then?
1. _Lady_.--No, Madam. Good! alas, he has no bottom.
2. _Lady_.--No bottom! Why, you surprise me; we always looked upon him
to be a man of substance, and that he was very well in the world.
1. _Lady_.--It is all a cheat, Madam; there's nothing in it; when it
came to be made out, nothing at all in it.
2. _Lady_.--That cannot be, Madam; Mr ---- has lived always in good
reputation and good credit in his business.
1. _Lady_.--It is all sunk again then, if it was so; I don't know.
2. _Lady_.--Why did she entertain him so long, then?
1. _Lady_.--Alas! Madam, how could she know, poor lady, till her friends
inquired into things? But when they came to look a little narrowly into
it, they soon found reason to give her a caution, that he was not the
man she took him for.
2. _Lady_.--Well, it is very strange; I am sure he passed for another
man among us.
1. _Lady_.--It must be formerly, then, for they tell me his credit has
been sunk these three or four years; he had need enough indeed to try
for a greater fortune, he wants it enough.
2. _Lady_.--It is a sad thing when men look out for fortunes to heal
their trade-breaches with, and make the poor wife patch up their old
bankrupt credit.
1. _Lady_.--Especially, Madam, when they know themselves to be gone so
far, that even with the addition they can stand but a little while, and
must inevitably bring the lady to destruction with them.
2. _Lady_.--Well, I could never have thought Mr ---- was in such
circumstances.
3. _Lady_.--Nor I; we always took him for a ten thousand pound man.
1. _Lady_.--They say he was deep in the bubbles, Madam.
2. _Lady_.--Nay, if he was gotten into the South Sea, that might hurt
him indeed, as it has done many a gentleman of better estates than he.
1. _Lady_.--I don't know whether it was the South Sea, or some other
bubbles, but he was very near making a bubble of her, and £3000 into the
bargain.
2. _Lady_.--I am glad she has escaped him, if it be so; it is a sign her
friends took a great deal of care of her.
1. _Lady_.--He won't hold it long; he will have his desert, I hope; I
don't doubt but we shall see him in the Gazette quickly for a bankrupt.
2. _Lady_.--If he does not draw in some innocent young thing that has
her fortune in her own hands to patch him up.
1. _Lady_.--I hope not, Madam; I hear he is blown where he went since,
and there, they say, they have made another discovery of him, in a worse
circumstance than the other.
2. _Lady_.--How, pray?
1. _Lady_.--Nothing, Madam, but a particular kind of illness, &c. I need
say no more.
2. _Lady_.--You astonish me! Why, I always thought him a very civil,
honest, sober man.
1. _Lady_.--This is a sad world, Madam; men are seldom known now, till
it is too late; but sometimes murder comes out seasonably, and so I
understand it is here; for the lady had not gone so far with him, but
that she could go off again.
2. _Lady_.--Nay, it was time to go off again, if it were so.
1. _Lady_.--Nay, Madam, I do not tell this part of my own knowledge; I
only heard so, but I am afraid there is too much in it.
Thus ended this piece of hellish wildfire, upon the character and credit
of a tradesman, the truth of all which was no more than this--that the
tradesman, disliking his first lady, left her, and soon after, though
not presently, courted another of a superior fortune indeed, though not
for that reason; and the first lady, provoked at being cast off, and, as
she called it, slighted, raised all this clamour upon him, and
persecuted him with it, wherever she was able.
Such a discourse as this at a tea-table, it could not be expected would
be long a secret; it ran from one tittle-tattle society to another; and
in every company, snow-ball like, it was far from lessening, and it went
on, till at length it began to meet with some contradiction, and the
tradesman found himself obliged to trace it as far and as well as he
could.
But it was to no purpose to confront it; when one was asked, and another
was asked, they only answered they heard so, and they heard it in
company in such a place, and in such a place, and some could remember
where they had it, and some could not; and the poor tradesman, though he
was really a man of substance, sank under it prodigiously: his new
mistress, whom he courted, refused him, and would never hear any thing
in his favour, or trouble herself to examine whether it were true or
no--it was enough, she said, to her, that he was laden with such a
report; and, if it was unjust, she was sorry for it, but the misfortune
must be his, and he must place it to the account of his having made some
enemies, which she could not help.
As to his credit, the slander of the first lady's raising was spread
industriously, and with the utmost malice and bitterness, and did him an
inexpressible prejudice; every man he dealt with was shy of him; every
man he owed any thing to came for it, and, as he said, he was sure he
should see the last penny demanded; it was his happiness that he had
wherewith to pay, for had his circumstances been in the least perplexed,
the man had been undone; nay, as I have observed in another case, as his
affairs might have lain, he might have been able to have paid forty
shillings in the pound, and yet have been undone, and been obliged to
break, and shut up his shop.
It is true, he worked through it, and he carried it so far as to fix the
malice of all the reports pretty much upon the first lady, and
particularly so far as to discover that she was the great reason of his
being so positively rejected by the other; but he could never fix it so
upon her as to recover any damages of her, only to expose her a little,
and that she did not value, having, as she said wickedly, had her full
revenge of him, and so indeed she had.
The sum of the matter is, and it is for this reason I tell you the
story, that the reputation of a tradesman is too much at the mercy of
men's tongues or women's either; and a story raised upon a tradesman,
however malicious, however false, and however frivolous the occasion, is
not easily suppressed, but, if it touches his credit, as a flash of fire
it spreads over the whole air like a sheet; there is no stopping it.
My inference from all this shall be very brief; if the tongues of every
ill-disposed envious gossip, whether man-gossip or woman-gossip, for
there are of both sorts, may be thus mischievous to the tradesman, and
he is so much at the mercy of the tattling slandering part of the world,
how much more should tradesmen be cautious and wary how they touch or
wound the credit and character of one another. There are but a very few
tradesmen who can say they are out of the reach of slander, and that the
malice of enemies cannot hurt them with the tongue. Here and there one,
and those ancient and well established, may be able to defy the world;
but there are so many others, that I think I may warn all tradesmen
against making havoc of one another's reputation, as they would be
tenderly used in the same case.
And yet I cannot but say it is too much a tradesman's crime, I mean to
speak slightly and contemptibly of other tradesman, their neighbours, or
perhaps rivals in trade, and to run them down in the characters they
give of them, when inquiry may be made of them, as often is the case.
The reputation of tradesmen is too often put into the hands of their
fellow-tradesmen, when ignorant people think to inform themselves of
their circumstances, by going to those whose interest it is to defame
and run them down.
I know no case in the world in which there is more occasion for the
golden rule, Do as you would be done unto; and though you may be
established, as you may think, and be above the reach of the tongues of
others, yet the obligation of the rule is the same, for you are to do as
you would be done unto, supposing that you were in the same condition,
or on a level with the person.
It is confessed that tradesmen do not study this rule in the particular
case I am now speaking of. No men are apter to speak slightly and coldly
of a fellow-tradesman than his fellow-tradesmen, and to speak unjustly
so too; the reasons for which cannot be good, unless it can be pleaded
for upon the foundation of a just and impartial concern in the interest
of the inquirer; and even then nothing must be said but what is
consistent with strict justice and truth: all that is more than that, is
mere slander and envy, and has nothing of the Christian in it, much less
of the neighbour or friend. It is true that friendship may be due to the
inquirer, but still so much justice is due to the person inquired of,
that it is very hard to speak in such cases, and not be guilty of
raising dust, as they call it, upon your neighbour, and at least
hurting, if not injuring him.
It is, indeed, so difficult a thing, that I scarce know what stated rule
to lay down for the conduct of a tradesman in this case:--A tradesman at
a distance is going to deal with another tradesman, my neighbour; and
before he comes to bargain, or before he cares to trust him, he goes,
weakly enough perhaps, to inquire of him, and of his circumstances,
among his neighbours and fellow-tradesmen, perhaps of the same
profession or employment, and who, among other things, it may be, are
concerned by their interest, that this tradesman's credit should not
rise too fast. What must be done in this case?
If I am the person inquired of, what must I do? If I would have this man
sink in his reputation, or be discredited, and if it is for my interest
to have him cried down in the world, it is a sore temptation to me to
put in a few words to his disadvantage; and yet, if I do it in
gratification of my private views or interest, or upon the foot of
resentment of any kind whatever, and let it be from what occasion it
will, nay, however just and reasonable the resentment is, or may be, it
is utterly unjust and unlawful, and is not only unfair as a man, but
unchristian, and is neither less nor more than a secret revenge, which
is forbidden by the laws of God and man.
If, on the other hand, I give a good character of the man, or of his
reputation, I mean, of his credit in business, in order to have the
inquirer trust him, and at the same time know or believe that he is not
a sound and good man (that is, as to trade, for it is his character in
trade that I am speaking of), what am I doing then? It is plain I lay a
snare for the inquirer, and am at least instrumental to his loss,
without having really any design to hurt him; for it is to be supposed,
before he came to me to inquire, I had no view of acting any thing to
his prejudice.
Again, there is no medium, for to refuse or decline giving a character
of the man, is downright giving him the worst character I can--it is, in
short, shooting him through the head in his trade. A man comes to me for
a character of my neighbouring tradesman; I answer him with a repulse to
his inquiry thus--
_A_.--Good sir, do not ask me the character of my neighbours--I resolve
to meddle with nobody's character; pray, do not inquire of me.
_B_.--Well, but, sir, you know the gentleman; you live next door to him;
you can tell me, if you please, all that I desire to know, whether he is
a man in credit, and fit to be trusted, or no, in the way of his
business.
_A_.--I tell you, sir, I meddle with no man's business; I will not give
characters of my neighbours--it is an ill office--a man gets no thanks
for it, and perhaps deserves none.
_B_.--But, sir, you would be willing to be informed and advised, if it
were your own case.
_A_.--It may be so, but I cannot oblige people to inform me.
_B_.--But you would entreat it as a favour, and so I come to you.
_A_.--But you may go to any body else.
_B_.--But you are a man of integrity; I can depend upon what you say; I
know you will not deceive me; and, therefore, I beg of you to satisfy
me.
_A_.--But I desire you to excuse me, for it is what I never do--I cannot
do it.
_B_.--But, sir, I am in a great strait; I am just selling him a great
parcel of goods, and I am willing to sell them too, and yet I am willing
to be safe, as you would yourself, if you were in my case.
_A_.--I tell you, sir, I have always resolved to forbear meddling with
the characters of my neighbours--it is an ill office. Besides, I mind my
own business; I do not enter into the inquiries after other people's
affairs.
_B_.--Well, sir, I understand you, then; I know what I have to do.
_A_.--What do you mean by that?
_B_.--Nothing, sir, but what I suppose you would have me understand by
it.
_A_.--I would have you understand what I say--namely, that I will
meddle with nobody's business but my own.
_B_.--And I say I understand you; I know you are a good man, and a man
of charity, and loth to do your neighbours any prejudice, and that you
will speak the best of every man as near as you can.
_A_.--I tell you, I speak neither the best nor the worst--I speak
nothing.
_B_.--Well, sir, that is to say, that as charity directs you to speak
well of every man, so, when you cannot speak well, you refrain, and will
say nothing; and you do very well, to be sure; you are a very kind
neighbour.
_A_.--But that is a base construction of my words; for I tell you, I do
the like by every body.
_B_.--Yes, sir, I believe you do, and I think you are in the right of
it--am fully satisfied.
_A_.--You act more unjustly by me than by my neighbour; for you take my
silence, or declining to give a character, to be giving an ill
character.
_B_.--No, sir, not for an ill character.
_A_.--But I find you take it for a ground of suspicion.
_B_.--I take it, indeed, for a due caution to me, sir; but the man may
be a good man for all that, only--
_A_.--Only what? I understand you--only you won't trust him with your
goods.
_B_.--But another man may, sir, for all that, so that you have been kind
to your neighbours and to me too, sir--and you are very just. I wish all
men would act so one by another; I should feel the benefit of it myself
among others, for I have suffered deeply by ill tongues, I am sure.
_A_.--Well, however unjust you are to me, and to my neighbour too, I
will not undeceive you at present; I think you do not deserve it.
He used a great many more words with him to convince him that he did not
mean any discredit to his neighbour tradesman; but it was all one; he
would have it be, that his declining to give his said neighbour a good
character was giving him an ill character, which the other told him was
a wrong inference. However, he found that the man stood by his own
notion of it, and declined trusting the tradesman with the goods, though
he was satisfied he (the tradesman) was a sufficient man.
Upon this, he was a little uneasy, imagining that he had been the cause
of it, as indeed he had, next to the positive humour of the inquirer,
though it was not really his fault; neither was the construction the
other made of it just to his intention, for he aimed at freeing himself
from all inquiries of that nature, but found there was no prevailing
with him to understand it any other way than he did; so, to requite the
man a little in his own way, he contrived the following method: he met
with him two or three days after, and asked him if he had sold his goods
to the person his neighbour?
'No,' says he; 'you know I would not.'
'Nay,' says the other, 'I only knew you said so; I did not think you
would have acted so from what I said, nor do I think I gave you any
reason.'
'Why,' says he, 'I knew you would have given him a good character if you
could, and I knew you were too honest to do it, if you were not sure it
was just.'
'The last part I hope is true, but you might have believed me honest
too, in what I did say, that I had resolved to give no characters of any
body.'
'As to that, I took it, as any body would, to be the best and modestest
way of covering what you would not have be disclosed, namely, that you
could not speak as you would; and I also judged that you therefore chose
to say nothing.'
'Well, I can say no more but this; you are not just to me in it, and I
think you are not just to yourself neither.'
They parted again upon this, and the next day the first tradesman, who
had been so pressed to give a character of his neighbour, sent a man to
buy the parcel of goods of the other tradesman, and offering him ready
money, bought them considerably cheaper than the neighbour-tradesman was
to have given for them, besides reckoning a reasonable discount for the
time, which was four months, that the first tradesman was to have given
to his neighbour.
As soon as he had done, he went and told the neighbour-tradesman what he
had done, and the reason of it, and sold the whole parcel to him again,
giving the same four months' credit for them as the first man was to
have given, and taking the discount for time only to himself, gave him
all the advantage of the buying, and gave the first man the
mortification of knowing it all, and that the goods were not only for
the same man, but that the very tradesman, whom he would not believe
when he declined giving a character of any man in general, had trusted
him with them.
He pretended to be very angry, and to take it very ill; but the other
told him, that when he came to him for a character of the man, and he
told him honestly, that he would give no characters at all, that it was
not for any ill to his neighbour that he declined it, he ought to have
believed him; and that he hoped, when he wanted a character of any of
his neighbours again, he would not come to him for it.
This story is to my purpose in this particular, which is indeed very
significant; that it is the most difficult thing of its kind in the
world to avoid giving characters of our neighbouring tradesmen; and
that, let your reasons for it be what they will, to refuse giving a
character is giving a bad character, and is generally so taken, whatever
caution or arguments you use to the contrary.
In the next place, it is hard indeed, if an honest neighbour be in
danger of selling a large parcel of goods to a fellow, who I may know it
is not likely should be able to pay for them, though his credit may in
the common appearance be pretty good at that time; and what must I do?
If I discover the man's circumstances, which perhaps I am let into by
some accident, I say, if I discover them, the man is undone; and if I do
not, the tradesman, who is in danger of trusting him, is undone.
I confess the way is clear, if I am obliged to speak at all in the case:
the man unsound is already a bankrupt at bottom, and must fail, but the
other man is sound and firm, if this disaster does not befall him: the
first has no wound given him, but negatively; he stands where he stood
before; whereas the other is drawn in perhaps to his own ruin. In the
next place, the first is a knave, or rather thief, for he offers to buy,
and knows he cannot pay; in a word, he offers to cheat his neighbour;
and if I know it, I am so far confederate with him in the cheat.
In this case I think I am obliged to give the honest man a due caution
for his safety, if he desires my advice; I cannot say I am obliged
officiously to go out of my way to do it, unless I am any way interested
in the person--for that would be to dip into other men's affairs, which
is not my proper work; and if I should any way be misinformed of the
circumstances of the tradesman I am to speak of, and wrong him, I may be
instrumental to bring ruin causelessly upon him.
In a word, it is a very nice and critical case, and a tradesman ought to
be very sure of what he says or does in such a case, the good or evil
fate of his neighbour lying much at stake, and depending too much on the
breath of his mouth. Every part of this discourse shows how much a
tradesman's welfare depends upon the justice and courtesy of his
neighbours, and how nice and critical a thing his reputation is.
This, well considered, would always keep a tradesman humble, and show
him what need he has to behave courteously and obligingly among his
neighbours; for one malicious word from a man much meaner than himself,
may overthrow him in such a manner, as all the friends he has may not be
able to recover him; a tradesman, if possible, should never make himself
any enemies.
But if it is so fatal a thing to tradesmen to give characters of one
another, and that a tradesman should be so backward in it for fear of
hurting his neighbour, and that, notwithstanding the character given
should be just, and the particular reported of him should be true, with
how much greater caution should we act in like cases where what is
suggested is really false in fact, and the tradesman is innocent, as was
the case in the tradesman mentioned before about courting the lady. If a
tradesman may be ruined and undone by a true report, much more may he be
so by a false report, by a malicious, slandering, defaming tongue. There
is an artful way of talking of other people's reputation, which really,
however some people salve the matter, is equal, if not superior, in
malice to the worst thing they can say; this is, by rendering them
suspected, talking doubtfully of their characters, and of their conduct,
and rendering them first doubtful, and then strongly suspected. I don't
know what to say to such a man. A gentleman came to me the other day,
but I knew not what to say; I dare not say he is a good man, or that I
would trust him with five hundred pounds myself; if I should say so, I
should belie my own opinion. I do not know, indeed, he may be a good man
at bottom, but I cannot say he minds his business; if I should, I must
lie; I think he keeps a great deal of company, and the like.
Another, he is asked of the currency of his payments, and he answers
suspiciously on that side too; I know not what to say, he may pay them
at last, but he does not pay them the most currently of any man in the
street, and I have heard saucy boys huff him at his door for bills, on
his endeavouring to put them off; indeed, I must needs say I had a bill
on him a few weeks ago for a hundred pounds, and he paid me very
currently, and without any dunning, or often calling upon, but it was I
believe because I offered him a bargain at that time, and I supposed he
was resolved to put a good face upon his credit.
A tradesman, that would do as he would be done by, should carefully
avoid these people who come always about, inquiring after other
tradesman's characters. There are men who make it their business to do
thus; and as they are thereby as ready to ruin and blow up good
fair-dealing tradesmen as others, so they do actually surprise many, and
come at their characters earlier and nearer than they expect they would.
Tradesmen, I say, that will thus behave to one another, cannot be
supposed to be men of much principle, but will be apt to lay hold of any
other advantage, how unjust soever, and, indeed, will wait for an
occasion of such advantages; and where is there a tradesman, but who, if
he be never so circumspect, may some time or other give his neighbour,
who watches for his halting, advantage enough against him. When such a
malicious tradesman appears in any place, all the honest tradesmen about
him ought to join to expose him, whether they are afraid of him or no:
they should blow him among the neighbourhood, as a public nuisance, as a
common _barrettor_, or raiser of scandal; by such a general aversion to
him they would depreciate him, and bring him into so just a contempt,
that no body would keep him company, much less credit any thing he said;
and then his tongue would be no slander, and his breath would be no
blast, and nobody would either tell him any thing, or hear any thing
from him: and this kind of usage, I think, is the only way to put a stop
to a defamer; for when he has no credit of his own left, he would be
unable to hurt any of his neighbour's.