LESSONS ON THRIFT.
Published for general benefit, by a Member of the Save-all Club.
The caprice of men at different periods has delighted to make much of some darling qualities idolized as virtues, while others, which could not be mistaken for vices, have been tacitly scorned as only fit to occupy grovelling minds, and avert reproach from those who could not aspire to praise.
Among the latter we discover Frugality. What writer has ever thought of making his hero an economist? With a disposition to avoid unnecessary expense, it has long been assumed that a sordid and despicable parsimony must invariably be found, and the world has been accustomed to bestow its tenderest sympathies on the gay, florid, open-hearted rake, who having manifested a disposition to give, where he had nothing of his own to bestow, ruined those honest tradesmen who were credulous enough to trust him, and qualified himself for genteel society by visiting the King's Bench or the Fleet; while the man who disdained to be generous at the expense of others, who would not affect splendour which his means were inadequate to sustain, in fine, who denied himself enjoyments for which he could not honestly pay, has been treated with unsparing ridicule as a mean and pitiful plodder. Our citizens and traders have wisely joined to laugh this character out of countenance, and to applaud the swindling pleasantries of a profligate. Let them look to the effects of this—let them look to their legers, and see if they have not been merry at their own expense.
If there be any truth in the remark dropped by one of the greatest ornaments of British literature, that "it would be well if fewer possessed the superfluities, and more the comforts of life;" in times like the present, it is desirable that mankind should be weaned from the admiration of that which ought never to have been defended—that madness and dishonesty should no longer be depicted as the gracefully irregular flow of youthful gayety; and that the modest virtues which find a friend in the author of "Lessons on Thrift," should be recalled from that exile to which they were doomed by sordid dissipation and unreflecting folly.
But we must explain, as we proceed, to guard against mistake or representation. We do not wish to return to that enviable state, which we suppose some of our radical neighbours contemplate, when they talk of a "state of nature;" namely, that in which the first inhabitants of this island found themselves embowered in their native woods. We do not sigh for that economical simplicity which, according to Richard de Cirencester, made blue paint, applied to the human body, a substitute for clothing; nor do we even lift our voices against that most effeminate piece of luxury, as it was considered by some at the commencement of Queen Elizabeth's reign—the introduction of chimneys to houses. The votaries of luxury may think that, in the last instance, we make but a very slight concession; but the frightful effects of that departure from old English habits was once thought very alarming. We read in Hollingshed:—"Now have we many chimneys; and yet our tender limbs complain of rheums, catarrhs, and pozes; then had we none but reredosses, and our heads did never ache. For as the smoke in those days was supposed to be a sufficient hardening for the timber of the house, so it was reputed a far better medicine to keep the good man and his family from the quack or poze, wherewith, as then, very few were acquainted."
With all our reverence for economy, assuredly there are practitioners of the present day whom we would prefer to Dr. Smoke; even though calling in the former, we must submit to the inconvenience of offering a fee. We do not sigh for the return of those golden days, when our wise progenitors made the same aperture act the double part of a window and a chimney, and when a log of wood was considered an excellent pillow; but sometimes when our reluctant hands are a little embarrassed to find the expected fee, or our purses feel most awkwardly convenient for the pocket, after settling the lengthened bill, we do regret that those who prescribe for us, when indisposed, must at the same time prescribe for their own horses and carriages, and that the period is gone by when a sufferer could hope for relief from the pill of a pedestrian.
Our author, to show the evil effects of luxury and extravagance, even in a national point of view, gives the following narrative:
"The Seven United Provinces were at the height of their power and prosperity about 1650, before England, recovering from a destructive civil war, began to reclaim the dominion of the ocean.
"But in their successful periods the private virtues had also their share, and parsimony, as usual produced wealth and industry. In a conversation at Rotterdam this subject was discussed; and as the parties mostly imputed the decline of their republic to political causes, an opulent merchant said, that if the company would dine with him on such a day, he would convince them that there were other causes more in their power.
"The invitation was accepted, and it was hoped that the merchant would explain his sentiments, by which they might improve their speculations in commerce over a glass of wine, after an elegant repast as he was accustomed to give. But what was their surprise to find nothing on the table but salted herrings and table beer! They ate, however, a morsel in silence and dissatisfaction, which the master seemed not to observe, praying them repeatedly to eat and push the glass. At length, when they began to look at their watches, the master ordered in the dinner. At this word they brightened up, when in came a leg of mutton, boiled with turnips, and a pot or two of strong beer. This dish was little more satisfactory than the other, as they expected very different fare in such a magnificent house. There was, however, a great sacrifice of conscience and veracity in praising the mutton and the beer. But some yawned, and half the gigot remained even among a numerous company, when the master, seeing their distress, nodded unnoticed to an old hoary-headed domestic, who alone had appeared along with the mutton, and who stood respectfully at the sideboard to serve the bread or the beer. He went out, and the company was left to a languid conversation; their eyes saying more than their tongues.
"On a sudden the folding doors opened, and a train of twelve servants entered, bearing on massy plate the choicest fish, flesh, fowl, all the delicacies of the season. Two without livery took their places behind their master; the others in splendid uniform behind the guests. The number of wines presented was computed at fifteen, and even the richest guests were astonished at the splendour and variety of the festival.
"When an equal dessert was served, and the wine began to circulate, a prudent and wary guest thought it was time to request our opulent merchant to explain his sentiments, as he had promised. All were fixed in mute attention when he made this memorable answer: 'Gentlemen, my sentiments are already explained; the lesson is already given. When our ancestors were gradually rising to wealth under the yoke of Burgundy, Austria, Spain, their frugality was contented with our first dish, and they even blessed the inventor. In their second period, when the noble house of Orange, when Maurice of Nassau was establishing our power in the East and West Indies, and commercial wealth began to overflow all our ports and canals, still habits of prudence occasioned economy, and our rich senators dined on plain mutton, and drank wholesome beer. The dinner I have had the honour to give you is a very moderate specimen of our present existence. Add the luxury and pomp of houses, furniture and equipages, and judge, as you well can, of the difference of expense—a difference which, I would venture to say, would have, even for one year, been regarded as a fortune by our bearded ancestors.'"