The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson Read online

  THE STRUGGLES OF BROWN, JONES, AND ROBINSON:

  by

  ONE OF THE FIRM

  Edited by

  ANTHONY TROLLOPE

  Author of "Framley Parsonage," "The Last Chronicle of Barset,"&c. &c.

  Jones is vanquished by Mrs. Morony (Chapter XIV).(frontispiece)]

  Title page.]

  Reprinted from the "Cornhill Magazine."

  With Four Illustrations.

  London:Smith, Elder & Co., 15, Waterloo Place.1870.

  CONTENTS

  I. PREFACE. BY ONE OF THE FIRM.

  II. THE EARLY HISTORY OF OUR MR. BROWN, WITH SOME FEW WORDS OF MR. JONES.

  III. THE EARLY HISTORY OF MR. ROBINSON.

  IV. NINE TIMES NINE IS EIGHTY-ONE. SHOWING HOW BROWN, JONES, AND ROBINSON SELECTED THEIR HOUSE OF BUSINESS.

  V. THE DIVISION OF LABOUR.

  VI. IT IS OUR OPENING DAY.

  VII. MISS BROWN PLEADS HER OWN CASE, AND MR. ROBINSON WALKS ON BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE.

  VIII. MR. BRISKET THINKS HE SEES HIS WAY, AND MR. ROBINSON AGAIN WALKS ON BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE.

  IX. SHOWING HOW MR. ROBINSON WAS EMPLOYED ON THE OPENING DAY.

  X. SHOWING HOW THE FIRM INVENTED A NEW SHIRT.

  XI. JOHNSON OF MANCHESTER.

  XII. SAMSON AND DELILAH.

  XIII. THE WISDOM OF POPPINS.

  XIV. MISTRESS MORONY.

  XV. MISS BROWN NAMES THE DAY.

  XVI. SHOWING HOW ROBINSON WALKED UPON ROSES.

  XVII. A TEA-PARTY IN BISHOPSGATE STREET.

  XVIII. AN EVENING AT THE "GOOSE AND GRIDIRON."

  XIX. GEORGE ROBINSON'S MARRIAGE.

  XX. SHOWING HOW MR. BRISKET DIDN'T SEE HIS WAY.

  XXI. MR. BROWN IS TAKEN ILL.

  XXII. WASTEFUL AND IMPETUOUS SALE.

  XXIII. FAREWELL.

  XXIV. GEORGE ROBINSON'S DREAM.

  CHAPTER I.

  PREFACE.

  BY ONE OF THE FIRM.

  It will be observed by the literary and commercial world that, inthis transaction, the name of the really responsible party does notshow on the title-page. I--George Robinson--am that party. When ourMr. Jones objected to the publication of these memoirs unless theyappeared as coming from the firm itself, I at once gave way. I hadno wish to offend the firm, and, perhaps, encounter a lawsuit forthe empty honour of seeing my name advertised as that of an author.We had talked the matter over with our Mr. Brown, who, however,was at that time in affliction, and not able to offer much thatwas available. One thing he did say; "As we are partners," said Mr.Brown, "let's be partners to the end." "Well," said I, "if you sayso, Mr. Brown, so it shall be." I never supposed that Mr. Brown wouldset the Thames on fire, and soon learnt that he was not the man toamass a fortune by British commerce. He was not made for the guildof Merchant Princes. But he was the senior member of our firm, and Ialways respected the old-fashioned doctrine of capital in the personof our Mr. Brown.

  When Mr. Brown said, "Let's be partners to the end; it won't be forlong, Mr. Robinson," I never said another word. "No," said I, "Mr.Brown; you're not what you was--and you're down a peg; I'm not theman to take advantage and go against your last wishes. Whether forlong or whether for short, we'll pull through in the same boat to theend. It shall be put on the title-page--'By One of the Firm.'" "Godbless you, Mr. Robinson," said he; "God bless you."

  And then Mr. Jones started another objection. The reader will soonrealize that anything I do is sure to be wrong with Mr. Jones. Itwouldn't be him else. He next declares that I can't write English,and that the book must be corrected, and put out by an editor? Now,when I inform the discerning British Public that every advertisementthat has been posted by Brown, Jones, and Robinson, during the lastthree years has come from my own unaided pen, I think few will doubtmy capacity to write the "Memoirs of Brown, Jones, and Robinson,"without any editor whatsoever.

  On this head I was determined to be firm. What! after preparing, andcorrecting, and publishing such thousands of advertisements in proseand verse and in every form of which the language is susceptible,to be told that I couldn't write English! It was Jones all over.If there is a party envious of the genius of another party in thissublunary world that party is our Mr. Jones.

  But I was again softened by a touching appeal from our seniorpartner. Mr. Brown, though prosaic enough in his general ideas, wasstill sometimes given to the Muses; and now, with a melancholy andtender cadence, he quoted the following lines;--

  "Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For 'tis their nature to. But 'tis a shameful sight to see, when partners of one firm like we, Fall out, and chide, and fight!"

  So I gave in again.

  It was then arranged that one of Smith and Elder's young men shouldlook through the manuscript, and make any few alterations which thetaste of the public might require. It might be that the sonorous,and, if I may so express myself, magniloquent phraseology in whichI was accustomed to invite the attention of the nobility and gentryto our last importations was not suited for the purposes of lightliterature, such as this. "In fiction, Mr. Robinson, your own unaidedtalents would doubtless make you great," said to me the editor ofthis Magazine; "but if I may be allowed an opinion, I do think thatin the delicate task of composing memoirs a little assistance mayperhaps be not inexpedient."

  This was prettily worded; so what with this, and what with our Mr.Brown's poetry, I gave way; but I reserved to myself the right of anepistolary preface in my own name. So here it is.

  LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,--I am not a bit ashamed of my part in thefollowing transaction. I have done what little in me lay to furtherBritish commerce. British commerce is not now what it was. It isbecoming open and free like everything else that is British;--opento the poor man as well as to the rich. That bugbear Capital is acrumbling old tower, and is pretty nigh brought to its last ruin.Credit is the polished shaft of the temple on which the new worldof trade will be content to lean. That, I take it, is the one greatdoctrine of modern commerce. Credit,--credit,--credit. Get credit,and capital will follow. Doesn't the word speak for itself? Must notcredit be respectable? And is not the word "respectable" the highestterm of praise which can be applied to the British tradesman?

  Credit is the polished shaft of the temple. But with what are you topolish it? The stone does not come from the quarry with its gloss on.Man's labour is necessary to give it that beauteous exterior. Thenwherewith shall we polish credit? I answer the question at once. Withthe pumice-stone and sand-paper of advertisement.

  Different great men have promulgated the different means by which theyhave sought to subjugate the world. "Audacity--audacity--audacity,"was the lesson which one hero taught. "Agitate--agitate--agitate,"was the counsel of a second. "Register--register--register," of athird. But I say--Advertise, advertise, advertise! And I say it againand again--Advertise, advertise, advertise! It is, or should be,the Shibboleth of British commerce. That it certainly will be so I,George Robinson, hereby venture to prophesy, feeling that on thissubject something but little short of inspiration has touched myeager pen.

  There are those,--men of the old school, who cannot rouse themselvesto see and read the signs of the time, men who would have been inthe last ranks, let them have lived when they would,--who object toit that it is untrue,--who say that advertisements do not keep thepromises which they make. But what says the poet,--he whom we teachour children to read? What says the stern moralist to his wickedmother in the play? "Assume a virtue if you have it not?" and so sayI. "Assume a virtue if you have it not." It wou
ld be a great tradevirtue in a haberdasher to have forty thousand pairs of best hoselying ready for sale in his warehouse. Let him assume that virtue ifhe have it not. Is not this the way in which we all live, and theonly way in which it is possible to live comfortably. A gentlemangives a dinner party. His lady, who has to work all day like adray-horse and scold the servants besides, to get things into order,loses her temper. We all pretty well know what that means. Well; upto the moment when she has to show, she is as bitter a piece of goodsas may be. But, nevertheless, she comes down all smiles, although sheknows that at that moment the drunken cook is spoiling the fish. Sheassumes a virtue, though she has it not; and who will say she is notright?

  Well; I say again and again to all young tradesmen;--Advertise,advertise, advertise;--and don't stop to think too much aboutcapital. It is a bugbear. Capital is a bugbear; and it is talkedabout by those who have it,--and by some that have not so much of itneither,--for the sake of putting down competition, and keeping themarket to themselves.

  There's the same game going on all the world over; and it's thenatural game for mankind to play at. They who's up a bit is all forkeeping down them who is down; and they who is down is so very softthrough being down, that they've not spirit to force themselves up.Now I saw that very early in life. There is always going on a battlebetween aristocracy and democracy. Aristocracy likes to keep itselfto itself; and democracy is just of the same opinion, only wishes tobecome aristocracy first.

  We of the people are not very fond of dukes; but we'd all like to bedukes well enough ourselves. Now there are dukes in trade as wellas in society. Capitalists are our dukes; and as they don't like tohave their heels trod upon any more than the other ones, why theyare always preaching up capital. It is their star and garter, theircoronet, their ermine, their robe of state, their cap of maintenance,their wand of office, their noli me tangere. But stars and garters,caps and wands, and all other noli me tangeres, are gammon to thosewho can see through them. And capital is gammon. Capital is a verynice thing if you can get it. It is the desirable result of trade. Atradesman looks to end with a capital. But it's gammon to say thathe can't begin without it. You might as well say a man can't marryunless he has first got a family. Why, he marries that he may have afamily. It's putting the cart before the horse.

  It's my opinion that any man can be a duke if so be it's born to him.It requires neither wit nor industry, nor any pushing nor go-aheadwhatsoever. A man may sit still in his arm-chair, half asleep halfhis time, and only half awake the other, and be as good a duke asneed be. Well; it's just the same in trade. If a man is born to adukedom there, if he begins with a large capital, why, I for onewould not thank him to be successful. Any fool could do as much asthat. He has only to keep on polishing his own star and garter, andthere are lots of people to swear that there is no one like him.

  But give me the man who can be a duke without being born to it. Giveme the man who can go ahead in trade without capital; who can beginthe world with a quick pair of hands, a quick brain to govern them,and can end with a capital.

  Well, there you are; a young tradesman beginning the world withoutcapital. Capital, though it's a bugbear, nevertheless it's a virtue.Therefore, as you haven't got it, you must assume it. That's credit.Credit I take to be the belief of other people in a thing thatdoesn't really exist. When you go into your friend Smith's house,and find Mrs. S. all smiles, you give her credit for the sweetest oftempers. Your friend S. knows better; but then you see she's had witenough to obtain credit. When I draw a bill at three months, and getit done, I do the same thing. That's credit. Give me credit enough,and I don't care a brass button for capital. If I could have but onewish, I would never ask a fairy for a second or a third. Let me havebut unreserved credit, and I'll beat any duke of either aristocracy.

  To obtain credit the only certain method is to advertise. Advertise,advertise, advertise. That is, assume, assume, assume. Go on assumingyour virtue. The more you haven't got it, the more you must assumeit. The bitterer your own heart is about that drunken cook and thatidle husband who will do nothing to assist you, the sweeter youmust smile. Smile sweet enough, and all the world will believe you.Advertise long enough, and credit will come.

  But there must be some nous in your advertisements; there must be asystem, and there must be some wit in your system. It won't sufficenow-a-days to stick up on a blank wall a simple placard to say thatyou have forty thousand best hose just new arrived. Any wooden-headedfellow can do as much as that. That might have served in the oldentimes that we hear of, twenty years since; but the game to besuccessful in these days must be played in another sort of fashion.There must be some finish about your advertisements, something new inyour style, something that will startle in your manner. If a man canmake himself a real master of this art, we may say that he has learnthis trade, whatever that trade may be. Let him know how to advertise,and the rest will follow.

  It may be that I shouldn't boast; but yet I do boast that I have madesome little progress in this business. If I haven't yet practisedthe art in all its perfections, nevertheless I flatter myself I havelearned how to practise it. Regarding myself as something of a masterof this art, and being actuated by purely philanthropic motives in mywish to make known my experience, I now put these memoirs before thepublic.

  It will, of course, be urged against me that I have not beensuccessful in what I have already attempted, and that our househas failed. This is true. I have not been successful. Our househas failed. But with whom has the fault been? Certainly not in mydepartment.

  The fact is, and in this my preface I will not keep the truthback from a discerning public, that no firm on earth,--or indeedelsewhere,--could be successful in which our Mr. Jones is one of thepartners. There is an overweening vanity about that man which isquite upsetting. I confess I have been unable to stand it. Vanity isalways allied to folly, and the relationship is very close in theperson of our Mr. Jones. Of Mr. Brown I will never bring myself tosay one disrespectful word. He is not now what he was once. From thebottom of my heart I pity his misfortunes. Think what it must beto be papa to a Goneril and a Regan,--without the Cordelia. I havealways looked on Mrs. Jones as a regular Goneril; and as for theRegan, why it seems to me that Miss Brown is likely to be Miss Reganto the end of the chapter.

  No; of Mr. Brown I will say nothing disrespectful; but he never wasthe man to be first partner in an advertising firm. That was ourmistake. He had old-fashioned views about capital which were veryburdensome. My mistake was this,--that in joining myself with Mr.Brown, I compromised my principles, and held out, as it were, a lefthand to capital. He had not much, as will be seen; but he thought adeal of what he had got, and talked a deal of it too. This impeded mywings. This prevented me from soaring. One cannot touch pitch and notbe defiled. I have been untrue to myself in having had any dealingson the basis of capital; and hence has it arisen that hitherto I havefailed.

  I make these confessions hoping that they may be serviceable to tradein general. A man cannot learn a great secret, and the full use of agreat secret, all at once. My eyes are now open. I shall not againmake so fatal a mistake. I am still young. I have now learned mylesson more thoroughly, and I yet anticipate success with someconfidence.

  Had Mr. Brown at once taken my advice, had his few thousand poundsbeen liberally expended in commencing a true system of advertising,we should have been,--I can hardly surmise where we should have been.He was for sticking altogether to the old system. Mr. Jones was formixing the old and the new, for laying in stock and advertising aswell, with a capital of 4,000_l_! What my opinion is of Mr. Jones Iwill not now say, but of Mr. Brown I will never utter one word ofdisparagement.

  I have now expressed what few words I wish to say on my own bottom.As to what has been done in the following pages by the young man whohas been employed to look over these memoirs and put them into shape,it is not for me to speak. It may be that I think they might haveread more natural-like had no other cook had a finger in the pie. Thefacts, however, are facts still
. These have not been cooked.

  Ladies and gentlemen, you who have so long distinguished our firm bya liberal patronage, to you I now respectfully appeal, and in showingto you a new article I beg to assure you with perfect confidence thatthere is nothing equal to it at the price at present in the market.The supply on hand is immense, but as a sale of unprecedentedrapidity is anticipated, may I respectfully solicit your earlyorders? If not approved of the article shall be changed.

  Ladies and gentlemen,We have the honour to subscribe ourselves,With every respect,Your most obedient humble servants,BROWN, JONES, AND ROBINSON,PER GEORGE ROBINSON.