Caution those Friends to whom you may give such accommodation, not to mention it: if they trot about, telling every one that they and you know, that “Mr. Benevolus was so good as to lend us his Carriage, and we had such a nice ride all round here and there, and &c.”
If any of the numerous members of the “Free and Easy,” or “the Save All” families, who happen to have the slightest acquaintance with you, hear that you have given this accommodation to some very old and excellent Friend, who may have honestly earned every attention that you can possibly offer:—I should not wonder, if they were to Whisper to one another, “Oh, oh! is it so?—well,—I have really a vast respect for Mr. B.—hav’nt you? And if he is so exceedingly fond of Lending his Leathern convenience, don’t you think that we ought to do him the favour to Borrow it?—it will be so exceedingly convenient when we go to our Uncle Makefeasts—for we can’t hire a Glass Coach to take us Ten Miles and back under Thirty Shillings, you know!”
If you have any regard for Punctuality, take care who you carry with you, especially when going out to Dinner!
If you undertake to carry people to one place, some unreasonable selfish beings are, not seldom, so pleased at an opportunity of shewing off “en carrosse,” that they will plague you with perpetual solicitations to stop at almost every Door they pass;—Aye, and act as if they fancied that they were jumping in “an Errand Cart.” Tell such Free and Easy folks very plainly, that you must be at a certain Place at a certain Time, and have not a moment to spare.
If you have any Mercy for your Horses, lend them not to others, unless you limit the Time they are to be out, and the Distance and Pace they are to go; say not exceeding ten Miles. Consider, you may be called upon to go a long Journey to-morrow, and if your Horses are over-worked to-day, how are you to get on? This caution to your Coachman is quite necessary, my good Reader; for those who borrow Horses and Carriages have been found willing enough to work them hard enough! If those who borrow it ask the Coachman to do any more work than you have directed him, tell him if he does it, it is at the peril of losing his place, and desire him to say plainly, “Such are my Master’s orders; if I disobey them he will discharge me the moment I return home.”
Forbid your Coachman receiving any present from those he carries. Give him yourself, before he goes, the same perquisite that you would give another person’s Servant who had driven you as far as he is going to drive your Friends, who will be Shabby companions indeed, if they do not offer him something, and who will tell you if he refuses to take it.—If they are not furiously anxious to acquaint you with your Servant’s Integrity, they, most likely, may have Self-Love enough to wish to prove to you their own liberal intentions.—On such occasions, tell your Servants to say gently and respectfully, “I am much obliged to you, Sir—I am equally obliged to you, but my Master has already paid me extra for attending upon you.”
“Edmund Burke brought with him and retained the hospitable customs of his Country. I knew an old School-fellow of his, who used almost annually to go to London from Ireland, frequently with some of his Family: they used to lodge at his house. Mr. Burke sent his Servants and Carriage with them to a considerable distance from Town, when the Guests, on parting with the Footman, expressed their obligations for the attention shewn them, and put a piece of Gold into the Coachman’s hand. ‘I cannot receive this, Sir: it would displease Mr. Burke exceedingly.’ ‘But I don’t intend ever to let him know any thing about it.’ ‘Sir, I should use my Master extremely ill were I to consent: for he gives me extra Wages, on the express condition of my not receiving any thing from those who visit him.’ ‘Thou art right, and I will report thy Integrity to thy Master.’”—Dr. Walker’s Fragments, 8vo. p. 118. 1802.
“Many are the tricks of Coachmen,” says the sagacious DEAN SWIFT.
“If they are not in the humour to Drive, they will tell their Master that the Horses have caught Cold—are off their Feed—want Shoeing—the Harness is out of order—Wet Weather roughens their Coats: and if any body takes a liking to one of your Nags, and they can get a Guinea by selling it, will persuade you to part with it, by telling you that he is beginning to be touched in his Wind, or Foundered, or is so Vicious that it has become dangerous to drive him.”