CHAP. XXI.

The vast improvements made in the English silk manufacture, which exceeds that of the French. The foppish humour peculiar to the English, of unjustly preferring foreign manufactures to our own. A gross trading fraud among the mercers on this occasion discovered and exploded.

As we have in this work frequently referred ourselves to the mercer's trade, for such general instructions and examples as we find necessary to be given to the tradesman, for whose use we undertook this work, so we shall address a chapter entirely to them, which may not be unworthy of their attention, or that of the public, as the subject relates to a practice in which they are both very materially concerned; and as it will afford us at the same time the pleasure of observing the great improvement we have made in the silken manufactures of this kingdom, which is a point that, for the honour and profit thereof, will be found proper to be known and insisted on, when our ladies and others are so infatuated as to prefer foreign manufactures to our own, which, to be sure, they would not do if it was generally known that we can and do exceed those to whom they unjustly give a preference.

We must observe, then, that the silk manufacture of England is increased and improved to a wonderful degree; so that now we make at home, all the fine broad-silks, velvets, brocades, damasks, &c., which formerly came from Italy and France; and above twelve hundred thousand pounds a year,

which, by the strictest calculation, was formerly paid to the French, Genoese, &c., for wrought silks, is now all kept at home, and expended among our

own poor.

But the excellency at which the English weavers are arrived, is so little known or credited, and it is so much the humour of the people of this nation, more perhaps than of any other in the world, to despise the growth or product of their own country, and give the most extravagant prices for foreign manufactures, whether better in kind or not, that the mercers, finding that the ladies will allow nothing but French to be fit for a person of quality to wear, are forced to take measures accordingly; for if they offer them the richest silk, the most beautiful pattern, the most agreeable colours, if it has the scandal of being English, it must not have the honour to come upon their backs.

What does the mercer do in this case? he knows that there are master weavers in Spitalfields, with whom he deals, who are men of exquisite art, clear heads, and bright fancies in their business, and who so far outdo the French, that nothing comes from France equal to what they perform here; he sets these skilful artists to work, and to rack their invention for new out-of-the-way fancies and patterns of silks, such, to be sure, as have not been seen in the town before, in which the workmanship is exquisitely good, the silk rich and weighty, the brocades thick and high, and the patterns flaming in fancy; these the mercer keeps in petto; and when the ladies have with disdain looked upon all the fine things a well-furnished shop can produce, and are, as it were, just going out of his door, the cunning tradesman, as well furnished with a stock in his face, as in his shop, an oily tongue, and a case-hardened conscience, takes the ladies to one

corner of the shop, and whispering, as if he was afraid any one should hear, what he desired every one should know, he makes them this formal speech, with not one word of truth in it.

Madam, says he, I can indeed show you some very fine French silks; but your ladyship knows there is some hazard in that part of our business; and we dare not show them publicly in our shop; besides, very few ladies will go to the price of them; but I dare so far depend upon your ladyship's honour that you will not do me any injury if you should not buy.

He invites them then into an inner-shop, or perhaps up-stairs into his dining-room, and there he goes on with the cheat.

It is to be observed that this is an original falsehood in fact; for the French silks are by him supposed to be run, or smuggled, and got on shore without paying duties; so that he is liable to be informed against and have the goods seized. Whereas the goods come no more from France, than the

mercer.

The ladies, taken with this bite, follow the mercer into his retreat; and there he produces the extraordinaries he pretends to. The ladies are surprised with the silks, that's the first article; for they are really fine, rich, new, charming in every respect, and well worth not their liking only, but admiring.

The first question the ladies ask, is, if they are really French? The mercer makes no scruple to affirm they are; and that perhaps very solemnly; but fails not to add another black article; French! yes, madam, your ladyship may depend upon it they are French; we can make no such things as these in England. There are two direct falsehoods, by way of preliminary, besides laying a scandal upon his country, as if we were not able to come up to the

French, or any other nation, in the perfection of the manufacture; whereas it is known we now go beyond them in every branch of the trade, and in every particular article of the performance.

But this is not all; for the grand cheat is behind; and it is not a cheat only, but it is a complicated fraud, dressed and set out with so many downright falsehoods.

The next thing the lady asks, is the price. The cunning tradesman smiles, shakes his head, and, with a world of grimace, tells her, Indeed, madam, I am almost afraid to tell your ladyship the price; but it is what we can't help; these things will be always dear, because they are difficult to be had, and so much hazard attends it; indeed, madam, I cannot say they are cheap. And then he stops, and takes breath a little, in order to give the lady time to swallow and digest the gross things already said to her.

Well, says the lady, but let's hear it, however; let's know the price? upon which, having prepared her for the extravagant demand, he asks her thirtyfive-shillings a yard, with an assurance not to be described, though covered at first, and dressed up with the appearance of all possible sincerity and modesty.

The price thus broke, the lady starts a little at it at first, but is drawn in gradually to it, by the repetition of all those trading-lies we have mentioned before; and being assured by the mercer that is a right French silk, and was brought over from France with a great deal of difficulty and hazard, she comes up to his price within half-a-crown a yard. sells her the silk as a vast favour, a great pennyworth, lays a great obligation upon her ladyship, for venturing to show it her at all; and claims an interest in her favour for herself and her friends, for their future coming to his shop.

So he

There are three or four things worth our notice in this transaction.

1. Here is a stated established form of cheating and falsehood, set up as a rule of trade; and what the mercer resolves upon as a practice in the course of his business.

2. Here is a fatal national folly encouraged, and, in its own imagination, gratified too; though the person is deceived, and most egregiously imposed upon.

3. Here is a most immoderatė gain made by the fraud; which indeed is the grand incentive and provocative to the crime.

4. Here is general trade propagated by a double crime; the first, against man, in the foolish depressing a useful home manufacture, discouraging trade, depriving the poor of our own country, and affecting the labours of foreigners; and the second, against truth, and the author of truth, in pushing on business at the expense of our morals; and with a chain of accumulated falsehood and prevarication.

What can the tradesmen say for this? who would be a rich man at this price? and how do these things give life to the general scandal upon business, That a tradesman cannot be a honest man? The mercer makes his market by the fraud, that's true; he sells this silk for thirty-two shillings and sixpence a yard, which he could very well afford for eighteen to twenty, or twenty-two shillings, and gain a honest profit too.

Perhaps it may be hard to persuade the tradesmen that this is a crime; and, could it be abstracted from the plain cheat, and the black addenda of falsehood and lying, it would be still more difficult; but as the offences cannot be separated, so the reproach cannot be resisted.

But what must be done? Why, certainly, what