Stimulating drink, which is a sort of criterion of the scale of living,—(or scale to the plan,)—a sort of key to the tune;—this is the thing to banish first of all, because all the rest follow; and in a short time, come down to their proper level.
Am I asked, what is a glass of wine? I answer, it is every thing. It creates a demand for all the other unnecessary expenses; it is injurious to health, and must be so. Every bottle of wine that is drank contains a portion of spirit, to say nothing of other drugs still more poisonous; and of all friends to the doctors, alcoholic drinks are the greatest. It is nearly the same, however, with strong tea and coffee. But what adds to the folly and wickedness of using these drinks, the parties themselves do not always drink them by choice; and hardly ever because they believe they are useful;—but from mere ostentation, or the fear of being thought either rigid or stingy. At this very moment, thousands of families daily use some half a dozen drinks, besides the best, because if they drank water only, they might not be regarded as genteel; or might be suspected of poverty. And thus they waste their property and their health.
Poverty frequently arises from the very virtues of the impoverished parties. Not so frequently, I admit, as from vice, folly, and indiscretion; but still very frequently. And as it is according to scripture not to 'despise the poor, because he is poor,' so we ought not to honor the rich merely because he is rich. The true way is to take a fair survey of the character of a man as exhibited in his conduct; and to respect him, or otherwise, according to a due estimate of that character.
Few countries exhibit more of those fatal terminations of life, called suicides, than this. Many of these unnatural crimes arise from an unreasonable estimate of the evils of poverty. Their victims, it is true, may be called insane; but their insanity almost always arises from the dread of poverty. Not, indeed, from the dread of the want of means for sustaining life, or even decent living; but from the dread of being thought or known to be poor;—from the dread of what is called falling in the scale of society.[8] ]
Viewed in its true light, what is there in poverty that can tempt a man to take away his own life? He is the same man that he was before; he has the same body and the same mind. Suppose he can foresee an alteration in his dress or his diet, should he kill himself on that account? Are these all the things that a man wishes to live for?
I do not deny that we ought to take care of our means, use them prudently and sparingly, and keep our expenses always within the limits of our income, be that what it may. One of the effectual means of doing this, is to purchase with ready money. On this point, I have already remarked at length, and will only repeat here the injunction of St. Paul; 'Owe no man any thing;' although the fashion of the whole world should be against you.
Should you regard the advice of this section, the counsels of the next will be of less consequence; for you will have removed one of the strongest inducements to speculation, as well as to overtrading.
Section XVI. On Speculation.
Young men are apt to be fond of speculation. This propensity is very early developed—first in the family—and afterwards at the school. By speculation, I mean the purchasing of something which you do not want for use, solely with a view to sell it again at a large profit; but on the sale of which there is a hazard.
When purchases of this sort are made with the person's own cash, they are not so unreasonable, but when they are made by one who is deeply indebted to his fellow beings, or with money borrowed for the purpose, it is not a whit better than gambling, let the practice be defended by whom it may: and has been in every country, especially in this, a fruitful source of poverty, misery, and suicide. Grant that this species of gambling has arisen from the facility of obtaining the fictitious means of making the purchase, still it is not the less necessary that I beseech you not to practise it, and if engaged in it already, to disentangle yourself as soon as you can. Your life, while thus engaged, is that of a gamester—call it by what smoother name you may. It is a life of constant anxiety, desire to overreach, and general gloom; enlivened now and then, by a gleam of hope or of success. Even that success is sure to lead to farther adventures; till at last, a thousand to one, that your fate is that of 'the pitcher to the well.'