“Just so,” said the doctor; “in which her daughter made the Sphinx, and Mr.***, the Wall-street shaver, the Numidian lion.”
“Capital!” ejaculated the Bostonian; “but I refer to no individual in particular—I only speak of the absurd tastes of our fashionable women in general. I would ask, by way of finishing the picture which our friend from Carolina so happily commenced, and in order to settle the question of reckless expenditure, on which you all seem to exhaust your eloquence, how many of those that belong to our fashionable society can afford its expenses without impairing their estates?—how many of them would be able to continue them without the assistance of credit?—and how many of them, if their estates were to be settled to-morrow, would be able to pay fifty cents in a dollar? I am accustomed to bring everything down to figures. We at the North are a practical people: we like to calculate.”
Here the New York gentleman took out his watch, and, pretending to be in a great hurry, abruptly left the room.
“Do you think he is solvent?” said the doctor drily, emptying his glass.
“Not I,” replied the Bostonian. “Out of fifty persons that commence business in Boston, forty-nine are supposed to fail within the first five years; it takes them that long to learn the trade: and we boast of doing business on a solid capital in comparison to the New-Yorkers. But they beat us all hollow in the way of credit; our most cunning brokers in State-street are nothing in comparison to a regular Wall-street shaver. But let me come to the point. Our fashionable people are prodigal of other people’s money; and, in entertaining their guests, go to the extent to which they are trusted. Take, for instance, the case of one of our pushing retail dealers. He is, of course, a married man, and has one or two partners who are also married. Each of them lives in a house for which he pays not less than six hundred dollars’ rent, and the furniture of which costs from three to four thousand dollars. Each of them keeps one male and one or two female servants, and, in short, supports his wife as a lady. Each of them must ask people to tea, each must give dinners to his friends, and all ‘push to get into society.’ Suppose these men to do business on their own capital,—a thing which does not occur once in fifty cases; and let us suppose that their joint stock in trade is worth a hundred thousand dollars; let us take for granted that, deducting losses and bad debts, they realise a clear profit of ten per cent. on their capital; and I can prove to you that, in the ordinary course of things, they must be bankrupts in a few years. What, then, are we to expect of the generality of our young men, who commence business with a borrowed capital, on which they pay from six to eight per cent. interest?”
“Let him figure it out!” cried the doctor,—“let him figure it out! he is a Yankee.”
“With all my heart,” said the Bostonian, “if you will only promise not to interrupt me.”
“Suppose the borrowed capital to consist of one hundred thousand dollars?
| Dollars. | |
|---|---|
| “Then the interest, at six per cent. would amount to | 6,000 |
| “Store rent, say | 1,200 |
| “Two clerks with a salary of 300 dollars per annum | 600 |
| “Insurance on stock | 1,000 |
| “House rent for two partners, each 600 dollars | 1,200 |
| “Expenses of housekeeping, interest on furniture, servants, &c. each 2500 dollars | 5,000 |
| “Ladies’ dresses, parties, carriage hire, and incidental expenses, say each 1000 dollars | 2,000 |
| “Gentlemen’s dresses, horse hire, newspapers, and tobacco, say each 500 dollars | 1,000 |
| “Grand sum total | 18,000 |
| “Clear profit on 100,000 dollars’ worth of stock (deducting 25 per cent. bad debts), say 10 per cent. | 10,000 |
| “Deficit | 8,000 |
“Pray, what ruins these men, but the want of domestic economy in their own households? An English shopkeeper would be content to live in a house for which he would not pay more than from fifty to sixty pounds’ rent. His carpets would be Kidderminster, instead of Brussels or Turkey. His wife would require no other servant but a cook or a kitchen-girl; and would no more dream of giving parties, or vieing with the splendour of merchants and bankers, than she would of bringing up her children to match the peers of the empire. This is the advantage a shopkeeper has who marries an English girl. He gets, at least, a wife that wears well,—a substantial housekeeper, that administers to his comfort, and assists him in laying up a penny for rainy days. If her husband dies, she is, for the most part, capable of continuing his business, and making an honest living for her children. With all the morality, virtue, and beauty of our women, they are but helpless creatures. The wife of one of our young ‘merchants of respectability’ requires more waiting than, in proportion to her rank, an English peeress; and, ten chances to one, does not even understand superintending her servants. Her husband, in addition to ten or twelve hours’ hard labour at his counting-room, has to take care of his household, in which he is intrusted with the several important and honourable functions of steward, butler, groom, footman, and housemaid; while the education of the children is only at the extreme North and South—in New England and in the Southern States—superintended personally by the mother.