In corporations and in public offices this is peculiarly hard. The additional salary would not be felt, and there is a responsibility on the clerks which demands that their payment should be proportioned to it. It is an honor to them that, with the lax notions entertained of corporate and national property, the frauds should be so rare; but it is a dishonor to commercial nature, that, considering the profits made by merchants, the daily intercourse they hold with their clerks, and the trust they are compelled to place in them, they pay in so small, and work in so great a degree. It is a most suggestive fact, that, where the functionaries are remunerated the worst, the frauds are most numerous.
But there is another evil felt by the stipendiary. His personal treatment is not in accordance with his claims as an educated man. The coldest look and the haughtiest answer are reserved for him. The smallest amount of intercourse necessary to business is awarded him. The common courtesies of life are denied him. The merchant too often enters his counting-house without recognition, and leaves it without an adieu.
In similar establishments abroad, the clerks are treated with care and kindness. They are not made hourly to feel the great gulf between them and their wealthy superiors. They visit the homes of the latter; they are confidentially consulted; they are allowed time to think; they are treated as men, not as animals. And thus it was in England in the olden time. The merchant of that school invited his clerk to his home, took an interest in his affairs, and recognized him as a friend. They worked the fortunes of the house together, and, if the merchant was repaid by his clerk’s fidelity, the latter was often admitted into the firm he had served. This is not so now. But the master is the greatest loser; for there is no service so fruitful as that which arises from kindness, or so grateful as that which has its root in affectionate respect.
An important point was decided against the presumed privilege of the city in 1767. Two gentlemen, wishing to purchase stock, employed friends, not brokers, to procure it. The chamberlain, deeming this an invasion of the civic prerogatives, commenced proceedings against them. In both cases, however, the defendants gained the day. “And,” says the authority, “it is now settled that every person is at liberty to employ his friends to buy or sell government securities without employing a broker.”
Some of the frequenters of Jonathan’s were dexterous manipulators, and, however the speculator might congratulate himself on his success in the Alley, it occasionally happened that he found himself lightened of his profit. Thus, in one day in the above year, no fewer than four brokers were robbed of their pocketbooks, containing large amounts of property. The thief was taken; but, in place of expressing contrition, he gave a voluntary and unexpected opinion, that one man had as much right to rob as another, and that he was only acting as an honorary magistrate, in taking that of which they had cheated their neighbours.
In 1771, a somewhat curious calculation was made, that if the debt of 130 millions were counted in shillings at the rate of 100 a minute, it would occupy one person 49 years, 158 days, and 7 hours. The same person also declared its weight in the same coin to be 41,935,484 troy pounds; and that it would require 279,570 men to carry it.
CHAPTER VII.
Crisis of 1772.—Indian Adventurers, their Ostentation, their Character.—Failure of Douglas, Heron, & Co.—Neale, Fordyce, & Co.—Sketch of Mr. Fordyce.—His Success in the Alley.—Alarm of his Partners.—His Artifice.—His Failure.—General Bankruptcy.—Liberality of a Nabob.—Reply of a Quaker.—Witticism of John Wilkes.—War of American Independence.—Artifices of Ministers.—Anecdote of Mr. Atkinson.—Value of Life on the Stock Exchange.—Longevity of a Stock-broker.
The crisis of 1772 has been entirely overlooked by those who have bestowed their thoughts upon such subjects. It had its origin in a variety of circumstances; but the exciting cause was the failure of the bank of Douglas, Heron, & Co., established in 1769. It was the period when the success of adventurers in our Indian empire had contributed to the wealth of England. Immense sums were accumulated in a few months. Large purchases of land were made at high prices. All the early and late symptoms of speculation were apparent. The vast fortunes brought home were ostentatiously displayed. A contempt for the slow gains of trade, a feverish excitement, and an ungovernable impatience to be rich, marked the period. The nabobs were not disposed to hide their wealth under a bushel. They built magnificent mansions, and mistook ostentation for taste. They raised the prices of all articles of consumption; they were bowed to before their faces, and dreaded behind their backs. Dark deeds were told of them; and the shrewd peasantry shuddered as the massive carriage rolled by, which held the man whose wealth had been obtained at the expense of his humanity. The ephemeral literature of the day is filled with the popular opinion of the character; and the nabob is commonly represented as a man with a bad liver and black heart. Scott, with his exquisite conception of the ludicrous, makes one of his characters define a nabob as “one who comes frae foreign parts, with mair siller than his pouches can hold: as yellow as oranges, and maun hae a’ thing his ain gate.”