For pray, what do men propose to themselves in marriage? What qualifications do they look after in a spouse? What will she bring? is the first enquiry: How many acres? Or how much ready coin. Not that this is altogether an unnecessary question, for marriage without a competency, that is, not only a bare subsistence, but even a handsome and plentiful provision, according to the quality and circumstances of the parties, is no very comfortable condition. They who marry for love, as they call it, find time to repent their rash folly, and are not long in being convinced, that whatever fine speeches might be made in the heat of passion, there could be no REAL KINDNESS between those who can agree to make each other miserable. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
But, here I would not be misunderstood; perhaps, there is not a word more abused than that of the poor, or wherein the world is more generally mistaken. Among the number of those who beg in our streets, or are half starved at home, or languish in prison for debt, there is hardly one in a hundred who doth not owe his misfortunes to his own laziness or drunkenness, or worse vices.
To these he owes those very diseases which often disable him from getting his bread. Such wretches are deservedly unhappy; they can only blame themselves; and when we are commanded to have pity on the poor, these are not understood to be of the number.
It is true, indeed, that sometimes honest, endeavouring men are reduced to extreme want, even to the begging of ams, by losses, by accidents, diseases, and old age, without any fault of their own; but these are very few, in comparison of the other; nor would their support be any sensible burden to the public, if the charity of well-disposed persons were not intercepted by those common strollers, who are most importunate, and who least deserve it. These, indeed, are properly and justly called the poor, whom it should be our study to find out and distinguish, by making them partake of our superfluity and abundance.
But neither have these anything to do with my present subject: for by the poor I only intend the honest, industrious artificer, the meaner sort of tradesmen, and the labouring man, who getteth his bread by the sweat of his brow, in town or country, and who make the bulk of mankind among us.
First, I shall therefore show, first, that the poor (in the sense I understand the word) do enjoy many temporal blessings, which are not common to the rich and great; and likewise, that the rich and great are subject to many temporal evils, which are not common to the poor.
Secondly, from the arguments offered to prove the foregoing head, I shall draw some observations that may be useful for your practice. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
I, who knew little or nothing of what I was brought over hither for, was well-enough pleased with being here; London, a large and gay city, took with me mighty well, who, from my being a child, lov'd a crowd, and to see a great-many fine folks.
I retained nothing of France, but the language: my father and mother being people of better fashion, than ordinarily the people called REFUGEES at that time were; and having fled early, while it was easie to secure their effects, had, before their coming over, remitted considerable sums of money, or, as I remember, a considerable value in Franch brandy, paper, and other goods; and these selling very much to advantage here, my father was in very good circumstances at his coming over, so that he was far from applying to the rest of our nation that were here, for countenance or relief: on the contrary, he had his door continually thronged with miserable objects of the poor starving creatures, who at that time fled hither for shelter, on account of conscience, or something else.
I have indeed, heard my father say, that he was pestered with a great-many of those, who, for any religion they had, might e'en have stayed where they were, but who flocked over hither in droves, for what they call in English, a livelihood; hearing with what open arms the REFUGEES were received in England, and how they fell readily into business, being, by the charitable assistance of the people in London, encouraged to work in their manufactures, in Spittle-Fields, Canterbury, and other places; and that they had a much better price for their work, than in France, and the like.
My father, I say, told me, that he was more pestered with the clamours of these people, than of those who were truly REFUGEES, and fled in distress, merely for conscience. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
'Sir - The destinies having so appointed it, and my dark stars concurring, that I, who by nature was framed for better things, should be put out to trade, and the gods having been so propitious to me in the time of my servitude, that at length the days are expired, and I am launched forth into the great ocean of business, I thought fit to acquaint you, that last month I received my fortune, which, by my father's will, had been my due two years past, at which time I arrived to man's estate, and became major, whereupon I have taken a house in one of the principal streets of the town of ---, where I am entered upon my business, and hereby let you know that I shall have occasion for the goods hereafter mentioned, which you may send to me by the carrier.'
This fine flourish, and which, no doubt, the young fellow dressed up with much application, and thought was very well done, put his correspondent in London into a fit of laughter, and instead of sending him the goods he wrote for, put him either first upon writing down into the country to inquire after his character, and whether he was worth dealing with, or else it obtained to be filed up among such letters as deserved no answer.
The same tradesman in London received by the post another letter, from a young shopkeeper in the country, to the purpose following:--
'Being obliged, Sir, by my late master's decease, to enter
immediately upon his business, and consequently open my shop
without coming up to London to furnish myself with such goods as
at present I want, I have here sent you a small order, as
underwritten. I hope you will think yourself obliged to use me
well, and particularly that the goods may be good of the sorts,
though I cannot be at London to look them out myself. I have
enclosed a bill of exchange for $75, on Messrs A. B. and Company,
payable to you, or your order, at one-and-twenty days' sight; be
pleased to get it accepted, and if the goods amount to more than
that sum, I shall, when I have your bill of parcels, send you the
remainder. I repeat my desire, that you will send me the goods
well sorted, and well chosen, and as cheap as possible, that I
may be encouraged to a further correspondence. I am, your humble
servant,
C.K.
This was writing like a man that understood what he was doing; and his correspondent in London would presently say - 'This young man writes like a man of business; pray let us take good care to use him well, for in all probability he will be a very good chapman.'
The sum of the matter is this: a tradesman's letters should be plain, concise, and to the purpose; no quaint expressions, no book-phrases, no flourishes, and yet they must be full and sufficient to express what he means, so as not to be doubtful, much less unintelligible. I can by no means approve of studied abbreviations, and leaving out the needful copulatives of speech in trading letters; they are to an extreme affected; no beauty to the style, but, on the contrary, a deformity of the grossest nature. They are affected to the last degree, and with this aggravation, that it is an affectation of the grossest nature; for, in a word, it is affecting to be thought a man of more than ordinary business, by giving orders and expressing your meaning in terms which a man of business may not think himself bound by. For example, a tradesman at Hull writes to his correspondent at London the following letter:-
'Sir, yours received, have at present little to reply. Last post you had bills of loading, with invoice of what had loaden for your account in Hamburgh factor bound for said port. What have farther orders for, shall be dispatched with expedition. Markets slacken much on this side; cannot sell the iron for more than 37s. Wish had your orders if shall part with it at that rate. No ships since the 11th. London fleet may be in the roads before the late storm, so hope they are safe: if have not insured, please omit the same till hear farther; the weather proving good, hope the danger is over.
My last transmitted three bills of exchange, import $315; please signify if are come to hand, and accepted, and give credit in account current to your humble servant.'
I pretend to say there is nothing in all this letter, though appearing to have the face of a considerable dealer, but what may be taken any way, pro or con. The Hamburgh factor may be a ship, or a horse--be bound to Hamburgh or London. What shall be dispatched may be one thing, or any thing, or every thing, in a former letter. No ships since the 11th, may be no ships come in, or no ships gone out [etc.] . . . .
I might have made some apology for urging tradesmen to write a plain and easy style; let me add, that the tradesmen need not be offended at my condemning them, as it were, to a plain and homely style--easy, plain, and familiar language is the beauty of speech in general, and is the excellency of all writing, on whatever subject, or to whatever persons they are we write or speak. The end of speech is that men might understand one another's meaning; certainly that speech, or that way of speaking, which is the most easily understood, is the best way of speaking. If any man were to ask me, which would be supposed to be a perfect style, or language, I would answer, that in which a man speaking to five hundred people, of all common and various capacities, idiots or lunatics excepted, should be understood by them all in the same manner with one another, and in the same sense which the speaker intended to be understood--this would certainly be a most perfect style.
All exotic sayings, dark and ambiguous speakings, affected words, and, as I said in the last chapter, abridgement, or words cut off, as they are foolish and improper in business, so, indeed, are they in any other things; hard words, and affectation of style in business, is like bombast in poetry, a kind of rumbling nonsense, and nothing of the kind can be more ridiculous.
The nicety of writing in business consists chiefly in giving every species of goods their trading names, for there are certain peculiarities in the trading language, which are to be observed as the greatest proprieties, and without which the language your letters are written in would be obscure, and the tradesmen you write to would not understand you--for example, if you write to your factor at Lisbon or at Cadiz, to make you returns in hardward, he understands you, and sends so many bags of pieces of eight. So, if a merchant comes to me to hire a small ship of me, and tells me it is for the pipin trade, or to buy a vessel, and tells me he intends to make a pipiner of her, the meaning is, that she is to run to Seville for oranges, or to Malaga for lemons. . . .
Thus the received terms of art, in every particular business, are to be observed, of which I shall speak to you in its turn: I name them here to intimate, that when I am speaking of plain writing in matters of business, it must be understood with an allowance for all these things--and a tradesman must be not only allowed to use them in his style, but cannot write properly without them--it is a particular excellence in a tradesman to be able to know all the terms of art in every separate business, so as to be able to speak or write to any particular handicraft or manufacturer in his own dialect, and it is as necessary as it is for a seaman to understand the names of all the several things belonging to a ship.
This, therefore, is not to be understood when I say, that a tradesman should write plain and explicit, for these things belong to, and are part of, the language of trade.
But even these terms of art, or customary expressions, are not to be used with affectation, and with a needless repetition, where they are not called for.
Nor should a tradesman write those out-of-the-way words, though it is in the way of the business he writes about, to any other person, who he knows, or has reason to believe, does not understand them--I say, he ought not to write in those terms to such, because it shows a kind of ostentation, and a triumph over the ignorance of the person they are written to, unless at the very same time you add an explanation of the terms, so as to make them assuredly intelligible at the place, and to the person to whom they are sent.
A tradesman, in such cases, like a parson, should suit his language to his auditory; and it would be as ridiculous for a tradesman to write a letter filled with the peculiarities of this or that particular trade, which trade he knows the person he writes to is ignorant of, and the terms whereof he is unacquainted with, as it would be for a minister to quote the Chrosystome and St Austin, and repeat at large all their sayings in the Greek and the Latin, in a country church, among a parcel of ploughmen and farmers. . . .
I therefore recommend it to every young tradesman to take all occasions to converse with mechanics of every kind, and to learn the particular language of their business; not the names of their tools only, and the way of working with their instruments as well as hands, but the very cant of their trade, for every trade has its nostrums, and its little made words, which they often pride themselves in, and which yet are useful to them on some accasion or other.
If you come to deal with a tradesman or handicraft man, and talk his own language to him, he presently supposes you understand his business; that you know what you come about; that you have judgement in his goods, or in his art, and cannot easily be imposed upon; accordingly, he treats you like a man that is not to be cheated, comes close to the point, and does not crowd you with words and rattling talk to set out his wares, or to cover their defects; he finds you know where to look or feel for the defect of things, and how to judge their worth. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
I do therefore humbly offer it to publick consideration, that of the hundred and twenty thousand children, already computed, twenty thousand may be reserved for breed; whereof only one fourth part to be males, which is more than we allow to sheep, black cattle, or swine; and my reason is, that these children are seldom the fruits of marriage, a circumstance not much regarded by our savages; therefore, one male will be sufficient to serve four females. That the remaining hundred thousand, may, at a year old, be offered for sale to the persons of quality and fortune, through the kingdom; always advising the mother to let them suck plentifully in the last month, so as to render them plummp, and fat for a good table. A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends; and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish; and seasoned with a little pepper or salt, will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
I relate the considerable matters, that produced and attended the first settlement of colonies, which have been renowned for the degree of Reformation, professed and attained by evangelical churches, erected in those ends of the earth; and a field being thus prepared, I proceed unto a relation of the considerable matter which have been acted thereupon. . . .
[Book II:] Let Greece boast of her patient Lycurgus, the lawgiver, by whom diligence, temperance, fortitude, and wit were made the fashions of a therefore long-lasting and renowned commonwealth: let Rome tell of her devout Numa, the lawgiver, by whom the most famous commonwealth saw peace triumphing over extinguished war and cruel plunders; and murders giving place to the more mollifying exercises of his religion. Our New England shall tell and boast of Winthrop, a lawgiver as patient as Lycurgus, but not admitting any of his criminal disorders; as devout as Numa, but not liable to any of his heathenish madnesses; a governour in whom the excellencies of Christianity made a most improving addition unto the virtues, wherein even without those he would have made a parallel for the great men of Greece, or of Rome, which the pen of a Plutarch has eternized.
Our John Winthrop, born at the mansion-house of his ancestors, at Groton in Suffolk, on June 12, 1587, enjoyed afterwards an agreeable education. But though he would rather have devoted himself unto the study of Mr. John Calvin, than of Sir Edward Cooke; nevertheless, the accomplishments of a lawyer were those wherewith Heaven made his chief opportunities to be serviceable. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
When we had ridd about an how'r, wee come into a thick swamp, which by reason of a great fogg, very much startled mee, it being now very Dark. But nothing dismay'd John: hee had encountered a thousand and a thousand such swamps, having a universall knowledge in the woods; and readily answered all my enquiries which were not a few.
In about an how'r, or something more, after we had left the Swamp, we come to Billinges, where I was to lodg. My guide dismounted and very complasantly help't me down and shewed the door, signing to me with his hand to go in; which I gladly did-- But had not gone many steps into the room, ere I was interogated by a young lady I understood afterwards was the eldest daughter of the family, with these, or words to this purpose, (viz.) Law for mee--what in the world brings you here at this time a night?- -I never see a woman on the rode so dreadfull late, in all the days of my versall life. Who are you? Where are you going? I'm scar'd out of my witts--with much now of the same kind. I stood aghast, prepareing to reply, when in comes my guide--to him madam turn'd, roreing out: Lawfull heart, John, is it you?--how do do? Where in the world are you going with this woman? Who is she? John made no ansr. but sat down in the corner, fumbled out his black junk, and saluted that instead of Debb; she then turned agen to mee and fell anew into her silly questions, without asking me to sitt down.
I told her shee treated me very rudely, and I did not think it my duty to answer her unmannerly questions. But to get ridd of them, I told her I come there to have the post's company with me to-morrow on my journey, &c. Miss star'd awhile, drew a chair, bid me sitt, and then run up stairs and putts on two or three rings, (or else I had not seen them before,) and returning, sett herself just before me, showing the way to Reding, that I might see her ornaments, perhaps to gain the more respect. But her Granam's new rung sow, had it appeared, would affected me as much. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
But this Amour had like to have brought our Fine Gentleman in Danger of a Duell, had he not discreetly shelterd himself under this peasable Perswasion. Besides, his Father having been a Flag-Officer in the Navy, while the Duke of York was Lord High Admiral, might recommend the Son to his Favour. This piece of secret History I thought proper to mention, to wipe off the Suspicion of his having been Popishly inclind.
This Gentleman's first Grant confind Him within pretty Narrow Bounds, giving him only that Portion of Land which contains Buckingham, Philadelphia, and Chester Counties. But to get these Bounds a little extended, He pusht His Interest still further with His Royal Highness, and obtained a fresh Grant of the three Lower Counties, called New-Castle, Kent and Sussex, which still remaind within the New York Patent, and had been luckily left out of the Grant of New Jersey.
The Six Counties being thus incorporated, the Proprietor dignifyd the whole with the Name of Pensilvania.
The Quakers flockt over to this Country in Shoals, being averse to go to Heaven the same way with the Bishops. Amongst them were not a few of good Substance, who went vigorously upon every kind of Improvement; and thus much I may truly say in their Praise, that by Diligence and Frugality, For which this Harmless Sect is remarkable, and by haveing no Vices but such as are Private, they have in a few Years made Pensilvania a very fine Country.
The truth is, they have observed exact justice with all the Natives that border upon them; they have purchased all their Lands from the Indians; and tho they paid but a Trifle for them, it has procured them the Credit of being more righteous than their Neighbours. They have likewise had the Prudence to treat them kindly upon all Occasions, which has savd them from many Wars and Massacres wherein the other Colonies have been indiscreetly involved. The Truth of it is, a People whose Principles forbid them to draw the Carnal Sword, were in the right to give no Provocation. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]
You probably are not sensible of this; you find you are kept out of hell but do not see the hand of God in it; but look at other things, as the good state of your bodily constitution, your care of your own life, and the means you use for your own preservation. But indeed these things are nothing; if God should withdraw His hand, they would avail no more to keep you from falling than the thin air to hold up a person that is suspended in it.
Your wickedness makes you, as it were, heavy as lead and to tend downwards with great weight and pressure towards hell; and if God should let you go, you would immediately sink and swiftly descend and plunge into the bottomless gulf, and your healthy constitution, and your care and prudence, and best contrivance, and all your righteousness, would have no more influence to uphold you and keep you out of hell, than a spider's web would have to stop a falling rock. Were it not that so is the sovereign pleasure of God, the earth would not bear you one moment; for you are a burden to it; the creation groans with you; the creature is made subject to the bondage of your corruption, not willingly; the sun does not willingly shine upon you to give you light to serve sin and Satan; the earth does not willingly yield her increase to satisfy your lusts; nor is it willingly a stage for your wickedness to be acted upon; the air does not willingly serve you for breath to maintain the flame of life in your vitals while you spend your life in the service of God's enemies. [Transcription by John F. Tinkler.]