Punch (7.1844)

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ^

PUNCH'S COMPLETE LETTER-WRITER.

LETTER XXXIII.

FROM A YOUNG MAN ENTERING BUSINESS TO A RETIRED
TRADESMAN.

Respected Sir,

When we last met, you were
enough to say that the benefit of
jur long experience in business should
always at my service ; and that as the
iend of my poor late father, it would
always be a pleasure to you to advise his
son. At the same time you desired me to
give yon my notions of the duties of a tradesman to the world and
to himself, that you might at the onset correct my errors, and I have known you from a boy—yes, froma very babe—aud

strengthen my judgment. I therefore hasten to comply with your J I did not think you capable of insulting the friend of your excellent
request. j father. Worthy soul ! it is a good thing that he is out of the world;

Of course, sir, I consider the old schoolboy copy that " Honesty is he is, it is my belief^saved that worst of all sorrows—a headlong,

held the scales for such buyers, justice would be to him a high reli-
gion. Well, sir, it was only yesterday that this very man was found
to use false weights, it was his third offence ; and he was lined by
the compassionating law—ten pounds !

This same man has at the present moment a boy in gaol, doomed
for six months, for stealing from his shop, when very hungry, one
red herring. Thus, the tradesman may rob by means of scales and
measures, merely paying for a sort of licence to cheat, when detected :
the very gains of his iniquity, too, go to lessen the fine ; he can in
fact, with tolerable luck, afford to rob. Now, does not law that
makes such robbery only fineable, look most tenderly upon the evil-
doing ? Does it not give a marked preference to the thief behind the
counter above the picker and stealer before it ? Hence—use light
weights, and pay money for the theft ; filch with your five fingers,
and do hard-labour in gaol. Besides, the tradesman is sweetened—
purified by the fine ; the stain upon his reputation is blotted up by
bank-paper : now the vulgar thief always bears about him the foul
odour of a prison. The keen nostrils of the police continually smell
in him his first iniquity.

Now, sir, it will be my endeavour, as a tradesman, to acknowledge
no " ways of trade"— to consider truth as truth in the smallest
as in the greatest affairs of life. Witli this belief, I shall take my
daily stand behind the counter, and cheerfully leave to Providence
the rest. Tell me, dear sir, if I am not right,

Aud believe me, yours sincerely,

John Balance.

LETTER XXXIV.

ANSWER TO THE ABOVE.

Mr John Balance,

the best Policy " to be the golden rule of life, and that the shortest
way from one point to another is always in a straight line. Hence, it
will ever be my pride to let my practice illustrate this beautiful sen

disobedient child. Your letter is enough to make him shiver in his
coffin.

I can well understand your insinuation about the false weights.

timent. 1 do not see why a shop may not be made a temple of truth It is base a.ud cruel. To me, with honourable gray hairs upon my
-and cannot understand why a falsehood " in the way of business" ; head ! To me, almost old enough to be your grandfather 1 It is

is not, after all, a falsehood in all its bearings. Lies are lies, and no
outside, skin-deep gilding will give to the base metal the value of the
precious ore. I have, I am sorry to say, known tradesmen with
great wrathfulness nail a proffered pocket-piece to their counter,
and still from their own mouths continue to issue counterfeit truths
—in fact, to do nothing but speak pocket-pieces. Yes, sir ; I have
known them do this, and never blush or stammer when their eye has

true, that, in my time, I was fined, I think three times ; but then, I
always proved that the false weights had been substituted by a
malicious servant. The fines were certainly never returned to me -y
but there was not one well-disposed person of the Sunday congre-
gation—and twice a-day, Mr. John Balance, did I appear in my
pew, reserving my evening of rest to look over my books—not one
of them who did not believe in my innocence. But then, I always
fallen on the copper countenance of the false half-crown, gleaming : studied respectability,
reproachfully upon them. But then, to pass bad money is a statutable I Your notions of business are the notions of a noodle. Truth is

offence—whilst to pass lies for truths, if adroitly uttered from
behind the counter, is nothing more than to do a clever stroke of
business. The one practice has led men to the gallows—the other
has taken them to the Bank of England.

"All in the way of trade" is, I know, a phrase that covers great
hypocrisy, great practical deceit, great injustice between man and
man. It is a convenient phrase, that from long custom has become
an allowed apology for the trickeries of dealers. But a highwayman,
who takes a purse, might as well believe that the black crape whicli
hides his face from the knowledge of the despoiled, does also hide
from his own soul a knowledge of his iniquity. How often is the
* way of trade" no other than so much black crape worn behind the
counter ! A man may be as completely robbed by means of a false
protestation, as though the lie were a loaded pistol.

There is, I know, a tenderness in the law towards the trippings of
trade, that seems to show a positive sympathy between law and
roguery. Men, it would almost seem, by general understanding,
allow the necessity of wrong as a proper alloy to keep society toge-
ther. Pure unmixed gold is too good for coin that is to suffer the
wear and tear of passing from hand to hand ; and so, that it may
endure the longer, it is mingled with a little wholesome copper. In
the like way, law seems to think pure honesty as altogether too
refined for the hard working-day purposes of trade, and therefore
looks indulgently upon its little shifts—its winning " ways." Let
me further explain myself.

My opposite neighbour is a chandler and green-grocer : he makes
his gains out of the veriest poor. Rags and keenest hunger are his
miserable customers. You would think, sir, that when a tradesman

very beautiful no doubt, but if stark-naked truth was always to
stand behind a counter I should like to know who'd go into the
shop. I know the value of truth as well as any man. And
throughout my long and useful life I always used it as the dear late-
partner of my joys used her silver teapot—upon holiday occasions..
I had too much respect for the real value of truth to be always
bringing it out upon working-days.

You have no kuowledge of the real talent required by a tradesman,
and therefore I should advise you to go to sea, or list for a soldier.
There is nothing so worthy of the attention of man—of his immortal
spirit, as the Reverend Mb. Doublechin used to call it—as business.
It employs all the strength of the soul—for the end and aim of all
business is for man to look upon the rest of the world as only so
many people to make so much money of. He is to consider them—
that is, in a business way—as made especially for his own profit as a
tradesman. And so, if he has only common sense, he is to use it as
he best can for his own advantage. As for what you stupidly call
lies, I always looked upon them as necessary tools for business—
things without which it would be impossible to keep open shop.
Lies are a sort of wooden pegs that keep the world together as if it
was a box ; nice little things, so let into the work as never to be
seen. Take out the pegs, aud how would the box tumble to pieces !

When you are really come to years of discretion you will kuow
that the private man and the tradesman are not at all one. Cer-
tainly not. I, Isaac Smirk, behind the counter, was not the Isaac
Smirk dressed for church on Sundays. How could I be ? How was
I to bring up a large family—as yet you don't know the expense of
clothing and schooling six children—in respectability, if I'd played