Western Characters Part 14

The visits were, therefore, not very frequent--the purchases for many weeks--perhaps months--being made on each occasion. This was a very inconvenient mode of "shopping," even for the energetic women of that day; and, since the population would not justify more numerous "stores," it was desirable that some new system should be introduced, capable of supplying the demand at the cost of less trouble, and fewer miles of travel. To answer this necessity there was but one way--the "storekeeper" must carry his wares to the doors of his customers. And thus arose the occupation of the _Peddler_, or, as he called himself, the "travelling merchant."

The population of the country was then almost exclusively agricultural--the mechanic arts belong to a more advanced period. The consequence was, that the first articles carried about from house to house, were such as are manufactured by artisans--and the chief of these was tin-ware.

The tinkers of the rural districts in older countries, were, however, not known in this--they were not adapted to the genius of the people.

The men who sold the ware were, scarcely ever, the same who made it; and, though the manual dexterity of most of these ready men, might enable them to mend a broken pan, or a leaky coffeepot, their skill was seldom put in requisition. Besides, since the mending of an old article might interfere with the sale of a new one, inability to perform the office was more frequently a.s.sumed than felt.

In the course of time--as the people of the country began to acquire new ideas, and discover new wants--other articles were added to the peddler's stock. Calicoes were often carried in the same box with tin pans--cotton checks and ginghams were stowed away beneath tin-cups and iron-spoons--shining coffee-pots were crammed with spools of thread, papers of pins, cards of horn-b.u.t.tons, and cakes of shaving-soap--and bolts of gaudy riband could be drawn from pepper-boxes and sausage-stuffers. Table-cloths, of cotton or brown linen, were displayed before admiring eyes, which had turned away from all the brightness of new tin plates; and knives and forks, all "warranted pure steel,"

appealed to tastes, which nothing else could excite. New razors touched the men "in tender places," while shining scissors clipped the purses of the women. Silk handkerchiefs and "fancy" neckcloths--things till then unknown--could occupy the former, while the latter covetously turned over and examined bright ribands and fresh cotton hose. The peddler was a master of the art of pleasing all tastes: even the children were not forgotten; for there were whips and jew's-harps for the boys, and nice check ap.r.o.ns for the girls. (The taste for "playing mother" was as much an instinct, with the female children of that day, as it is in times more modern; but life was yet too earnest to display it in the dressing and nursing of waxen babies.) To suit the people from whom the peddler's income was derived, he must consult at least the appearance of utility, in every article he offered; for, though no man could do more, to coax the money out of one's pocket, without leaving an equivalent, even _he_ could not succeed in such an enterprise, against the matter-of-fact pioneer.

The "travelling merchants" of this country were generally what their customers called "Yankees"--that is, New-Englanders, or descendants of the puritans, whether born east of the Hudson or not. And, certainly, no cla.s.s of men were ever better fitted for an occupation, than were those for "peddling." The majority of them were young men, too; for the "Yankee" who lives beyond middle age, without providing snug quarters for the decline of life, is usually not even fit for a peddler. But, though often not advanced in years, they often exhibited qualities, which one would have expected to find only in men of age and experience.

They could "calculate," with the most absolute certainty, what precise stage of advancement and cultivation, was necessary to the introduction of every article of merchandise their stock comprised. Up to a certain limit, they offered, for example, linen table-cloths: beyond that, cotton was better and more saleable; in certain settlements, they could sell numbers of the finer articles, which, in others, hung on their hands like lead; and they seemed to know, the moment they breathed the air of a neighborhood, what precise character of goods was most likely to pay.

Thus--by way of ill.u.s.tration--it might seem, to one not experienced in reading the signs of progress, a matter of nice speculation and subtle inquiry, to determine what exact degree of cultivation was necessary, to make profitable the trade in _clocks_. But I believe there is no instance of an unsuccessful clock-peddler on record; and, though this fact may be accounted for, superficially, by a.s.serting that time is alike important to all men, and a measure of its course, therefore, always a want, a little reflection will convince us, that this explanation is more plausible than sound.

It is, perhaps, beyond the capacity of any man, to judge unerringly, by observation, of the usual signs of progress, the exact point at which a community, or a man, has arrived in the scale of cultivation; and it may seem especially difficult, to determine commercially, what precise articles, of use or ornament, are adapted to the state indicated by those signs. But that there are such indications, which, if properly attended to, will be unfailing guides, is not to be denied. Thus, the quick observation of a clock-peddler would detect among a community of primitive habits, the growing tendency to regularity of life; for, as refinement advances, the common affairs of everyday existence, feeling the influence first, a.s.sume a degree of order and arrangement; and from the display of this improvement, the trader might draw inferences favorable to his traffic. Eating, for example, as he would perceive, is done at certain hours of the day--sleep is taken between fixed periods of the night and morning--especially, public worship--which is one of the best and surest signs of social advancement--must be held at a time generally understood.

The peddler might conclude, also, when he saw a glazed window in a house, that the owner was already possessed of a clock--which, perhaps, needed repairing--or, at least, was in great need of one, if he had not yet made the purchase. One of these shrewd "calculators" once told me, that, when he saw a man with four panes of gla.s.s in his house, and no clock, he either sold him one straightway, or "set him down crazy, or a screw."

"Have you no other 'signs of promise'"? I asked.

"O yes," he replied, "many! For instance: When I am riding past a house--(I always ride slowly)--I take a general and particular survey of the premises--or, as the military men say, I make a _reconnaissance_; and it must be a very bare place, indeed, if I can not see some 'sign,'

by which to determine, whether the owner needs a clock. If I see the man, himself, I look at his extremities; and by the appearance of hat and boot, I make up my opinion as to whether he knows the value of time: if he wears anything but a cap, I can pretty fairly calculate upon selling him a clock; and if, to the hat, he has added _boots_, I halt at once, and, without ceremony, carry a good one in.

"When I see the wife, instead of the husband, I have no difficulty in making up my mind--though the signs about the women are so numerous and minute, that it would be hard to explain them. If one wears a check-ap.r.o.n and sports a calico dress, I know that a 'travelling merchant' has been in the neighborhood; and if he has succeeded in making a reasonable number of sales, I am certain that he has given her such a taste for buying, that I can sell her anything at all: for purchasing cheap goods, to a woman, is like sipping good liquor, to a man--she soon acquires the appet.i.te, and thenceforward it is insatiable.

"I have some customers who have a _pa.s.sion_ for clocks. There is a man on this road, who has one for every room in his house; and I have another with me now--with a portrait of General Jackson in the front--which I expect to add to his stock. There is a farmer not far from here, with whom I have 'traded' clocks every year since I first entered the neighborhood--always receiving about half the value of the article I sell, in money, 'to boot.' There are clock-fanciers, as well as fanciers of dogs and birds; and I have known cases, in which a man would have two or three time-pieces in his house, and not a pair of shoes in the family! But such customers are rare--as they ought to be; and the larger part of our trade is carried on, with people who begin to feel the necessity of regularity--to whom the sun has ceased to be a sufficient guide--and who have acquired some notions of elegance and comfort. And we seldom encounter the least trouble in determining, by the general appearance of the place, whether the occupant has arrived at that stage of refinement."

We perceive that the princ.i.p.al study of the peddler is human nature; and though he cla.s.sifies the principles of his experience, more especially with reference to the profits of his trade, his rapid observation of minor traits and indications, is a talent which might be useful in many pursuits, besides clock-peddling. And, accordingly, we discover that, even after he has abandoned the occupation, and ceased to be a bird of pa.s.sage, he never fails to turn his learning to a good account.

He was distinguished by energy as well as shrewdness, and an enterprising spirit was the first element of his prosperity. There was no corner--no secluded settlement--no out-of-the way place--where he was not seen. Bad roads never deterred him: he could drive his horses and wagon where a four-wheeled vehicle never went before. He understood bearings and distances as well as a topographical engineer, and would go, whistling contentedly, across a prairie or through a forest, where he had not even a "trail" to guide him. He could find fords and crossings where none were previously known to exist; and his pair of lean horses, by the skilful management of their driver, would carry him and his wares across sloughs and swamps, where a steam-engine would have been clogged by the weight of a baby-wagon. If he broke his harness or his vehicle in the wilderness, he could repair it without a.s.sistance, for his mechanical accomplishments extended from the shoeing of a horse to the repair of a watch, and embraced everything between. He was never taken by surprise--accidents never came unexpected, and strange events never disconcerted him. He would whistle "Yankee Doodle" while his horses were floundering in a quagmire, and sing "Hail Columbia" while plunging into an unknown river!

He never met a stranger, for he was intimately acquainted with a man as soon as he saw him. Introductions were useless ceremonies to him, for he cared nothing about names. He called a woman "ma'am" and a man "mister,"

and if he could sell either of them a few goods, he never troubled himself or them with impertinent inquiries. Sometimes he had a habit of learning each man's name from his next neighbor, and possessing an excellent memory, he never lost the information thus acquired.

When he had pa.s.sed through a settlement once, he had a complete knowledge of all its circ.u.mstances, history, and inhabitants; and, the next year, if he met a child in the road, he could tell you whom it most resembled, and to what family it belonged. He recollected all who were sick on his last visit--what peculiar difficulties each was laboring under--and was always glad to hear of their convalescence. He gathered medicinal herbs along the road, and generously presented them to the housewives where he halted, and he understood perfectly the special properties of each. He possessed a great store of good advice, suited to every occasion, and distributed it with the disinterested benevolence of a philanthropist. He knew precisely what articles of merchandise were adapted to the taste of each customer; and the comprehensive "rule of three" would not have enabled him to calculate more nicely the exact amount of "talk" necessary to convince them of the same.

His address was extremely insinuating, for he always endeavored to say the most agreeable things, and no man could judge more accurately what would best please the person addressed. He might be vain enough, but his egotism was never obtruded upon others. He might secretly felicitate himself upon a successful trade, but he never boasted of it. He seemed to be far more interested in the affairs of others than in his own. He had sympathy for the afflictions of his customers, counsel for their difficulties, triumph in their success.

Before the introduction of mails, he was the universal news-carrier, and could tell all about the movements of the whole world. He could gossip over his wares with his female customers, till he beguiled them into endless purchases, for he had heard of every death, marriage, and birth within fifty miles. He recollected the precise piece of calico from which Mrs. Jones bought her last new dress, and the identical bolt of riband from which Mrs. Smith trimmed her "Sunday bonnet." He knew whose children went to "meeting" in "store-shoes," whose daughter was beginning to wear long dresses, and whose wife wore cotton hose. He could ring the changes on the "latest fashions" as glibly as the skilfulest _modiste_. He was a _connoisseur_ in colors, and learned in their effects upon complexion. He could laugh the husband into half-a-dozen shirts, flatter the wife into calico and gingham, and praise the children till both parents joined in dressing them anew from top to toe.

He always sold his goods "at a ruinous sacrifice," but he seemed to have a depot of infinite extent and capacity, from which he annually drew new supplies. He invariably left a neighborhood the loser by his visit, and the close of each season found him inconsolable for his "losses." But the next year he was sure to come back, risen, like the Phoenix, from his own ashes, and ready to be ruined again--in the same way. He could never resist the pleading look of a pretty woman, and if she "jewed" him twenty per cent. (though his profits were only two hundred), the tenderness of his heart compelled him to yield. What wonder is it, then, if he was a prime favorite with all the women, or that his advent, to the children, made a day of jubilee?

But the peddler, like every other human "inst.i.tution," only had "his day." The time soon came when he was forced to give way before the march of newfangledness. The country grew densely populated, neighborhoods became thicker, and the smoke of one man's chimney could be seen from another's front-door. People's wants began to be permanent--they were no longer content with transient or periodical supplies--they demanded something more constant and regular. From this demand arose the little neighborhood "stores," established for each settlement at a central and convenient point--usually at "cross-roads," or next door to the blacksmith's shop--and these it was which superseded the peddler's trade.

We could wish to pause here, and, after describing the little depot, "take an account of stock:" for no store, not even a sutler's, ever presented a more amusing or characteristic a.s.sortment. But since these modest establishments were generally the _nuclei_, around which western towns were built, we must reserve our fire until we reach that subject.

But the peddler had not acquired his experience of life for nothing, he was not to be outdone, even by the more aristocratic stationary shop-keeper. When he found his trade declining, he cast about him for a good neighborhood, still uninvaded by the Lombards, and his extensive knowledge of the country soon enabled him to find one. Here he erected his own cabin, and boldly entered the lists against his new compet.i.tors. If he could find no eligible point for such an establishment, or if he augured unfavorably of his success in the new walk, he was not cast down. If he could not "keep store," he could at least "keep tavern," an occupation for which his knowledge of the world and cosmopolitan habits, admirably fitted him. In this capacity, we shall have occasion to refer to him again; and have now only to record, that in the progress of time, he grew rich, if not fat, and eventually died, "universally regretted."

VIII.

THE SCHOOLMASTER.

"There, in his quiet mansion, skilled to rule, The village _master_ taught his little school.

"I knew him well, and every truant knew:

"Yet he was kind; or, if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault.

The village all declared how much he knew: 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too."--

GOLDSMITH'S "DESERTED VILLAGE."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SCHOOLMASTER.]

In the progress of society, the physical wants are felt before the intellectual. Men appreciate the necessity for covering their backs and lining their stomachs before storing their minds, and they naturally provide a shelter from the storms of heaven, before they seek (with other learning) a knowledge of the heavenly bodies. Thus the rudest social system comprises something of the mechanic arts--government begins to advance toward the dignity of a science--commerce follows the establishment of legal supremacy--and the education of the citizen comes directly after the recognition of his social and political rights.

So, the justice of the peace (among other legal functionaries) indicates subjection, more or less complete, to the regulations of law; the peddler represents the beginning of commercial interests; and the schoolmaster succeeds him, in the natural order of things.

It may be possible to preserve a high respect for a _calling_, while we despise the men who exercise it: though I believe this is not one of the rules which "work both ways," and the converse is, therefore, not equally true. A man's occupation affects _him_ more nearly than _he_ does his occupation. A thousand contemptible men will not bring a respectable profession into so much disrepute, as a contemptible profession will a thousand respectable men. All the military talents, for example, of the commander-in-chief of our armies, would not preserve him from contempt, should he set up a barber-shop, or drive a milk-cart; but the barber, or the milkman, might make a thousand blunders at the head of an army, should extravagant democracy elevate him to that position, and yet the rank of a general would be as desirable, because as honorable, as ever.

It is certainly true, however, that the most exalted station may be degraded by filling it with a low or despicable inc.u.mbent, for the mental effort necessary to the abstraction of the employment from him who pursues it, is one which most men do not take the trouble to make: an effort, indeed, which the majority of men are _incapable_ of making.

A vicious priest degrades the priestly vocation--a hypocrite brings reproach upon the religious profession--a dishonest lawyer sinks the legal character--and even the bravest men care but little for promotion in an army, when cowardice and incompetency are rewarded with rank and power. But manifest incapacity, culpable neglect of duty, or even a positively vicious character, will not reduce a calling to contempt, or bring it into disrepute so soon, as any quality which excites ridicule.

An awkward figure, a badly-shaped garment, or an ungainly manner, will sometimes outweigh the acquirements of the finest scholar; and the cause of religion has suffered more, from the absence of the softer graces, in its clerical representations, than from all the logic of its adversaries. A laugh is more effectual to subvert an inst.i.tution, than an argument--for it is easier to make men ashamed, than to convince them. Truth and reason are formidable weapons, but ridicule is stronger than either--or both.

Thus: All thinking men will eagerly admit, that the profession of the schoolmaster is, not only respectable, but honorable, alike to the individual, and to the community in which he pursues it: yet, rather than teach a school for a livelihood, the large majority of the same men would "split rails" or cut cord-wood! And this is not because teaching is laborious--though it _is_ laborious, and thankless, too, beyond all other occupations; but because a number and variety of causes, into which we need not inquire, have combined to throw ridicule upon him, who is derisively called the pedagogue--for most men would rather be shot at, than laughed at. Cause and effect are always inter-reactive: and the refusal of the most competent men, to "take up the birch"--which is the effect of this derision--has filled our school-rooms with men, who are, not unfairly, its victims. Thus the profession--(for such is its inherent dignity)--itself, has fallen into discredit--even though the judgment of men universally is, that it is not only useful, but indispensable.

Nor is that judgment incorrect. For, though home-education may sometimes succeed, it is usually too fragmentary to be beneficial--private tutors are too often the slaves of their pupils, and can not enforce "attention,"

the first condition of advancement, where they have not the paraphernalia of command--and, as for self-education, logically there can be no such thing: "one might as well attempt to lift himself over the fence, by the straps of his boots," as to educate himself "without a master."

The schoolmaster, then, is a useful member of society--not to be spared at any stage of its progress. But he is particularly necessary to communities which are in the transition state; for, upon the enlightenment of the rising generation depend the success and preservation of growing inst.i.tutions. Nor does his usefulness consist altogether--or even in a great measure--in the number of facts, sciences, or theories, with which he may store the minds of his pupils.

These are not the objects of education, any more than a knowledge of the compartments in a printer's "letter-case," is the ultimate result of the art of printing. The types are so arranged, in order to enable the compositors more conveniently to attain the ends, for which that arrangement is only a preparation: facts and sciences are taught for the improvement of the faculties, in order that they may work with more ease, force, and certainty, upon other and really important things; for education is only the marshalling of powers, preliminary to the great "battle of life."

The mind of an uneducated man, however strong in itself, is like an army of undisciplined men--a crowd of chaotic, shapeless, and often misdirected elements. To bring these into proper subjection--to enable him to bind them, with anything like their native force, to a given purpose--a prescribed "training" is necessary; and it is this which education supplies. If you can give a mind the _habit of attention_, all the power it has will be made available: and it is through this faculty, that even dull minds are so frequently able to mount the car of triumph, and ride swiftly past so many, who are immeasurably their superiors. The first element of the discipline which develops this power, is submission to control; and without such subordination, a school can not exist.