Godey's Lady's Book

GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, February 1850

ACTION AND REACTION.

BY T. S. ARTHUR.

THERE is a law governing in the affairs of life, with its award of good or evil, according to the tenor of every one's obedience or disregard thereto. Ignorance of this law exempts no one from punishment; and yet at least four-fifths of the human race appear to be utterly unconscious of its existence. The law is that of action and reaction, which may thus be stated, in order to make it clearly comprehensible.

Every act of a man's life, Whether good or evil, has a reaction of consequences. Whatever we do, affects others or ourselves in some way; for there cannot be such a thing as an' act without an effect proportionate to the action.

This, upon a little reflection, will appear self-evident.

The importance of a life in obedience to this law must strike every one at a glance, for happiness or misery here and hereafter depends upon it. In great things, so to speak, all see and acknowledge the existence of the law we have stated, for examples of its unerring visitation are of daily occurrence. How sad and various are the punishments that men receive for evil actions! Rut in little things, as they are called, where no violations of penal statutes or public opinion take place, and where no reaction is apparent, we imagine that none will ever come; that what they have done is lost as in a void immense. But this is a fatal error. There is not an act of a man's life, little or great, good or bad, that does not, sooner or later in life, react upon him with its full quota of consequences A philosopher has said, that the stamp of-a man's foot upon the earth will shake the universe. The remark is more likely to be true than false. We can believe it more easily than we can disbelieve it. And a single word, a look, or smallest act of e man's life, forgotten by him in the next moment, may shake his soul to the very centre.

Alonzo Turnham had never heard of the existence of the law to which we have alluded. But that was of little consequence. He would not have credited the fact if he had heard it stated. The law which he laid down for his government, was to seek his own gratification in all possible ways that it could be done, without so far trespassing upon the rights of others as to give them the power of retaliation. At the age of twenty-one, he started in life with a determination to succeed in the world. He saw that wealth gave the means of self-gratification to almost any extent, and he resolved upon its attainment. He had been for two years engaged in the study of law; but the law he perceived to be too slow a means of attaining the object of his wishes, and he therefore began to look around him for some quicker mode of advancement. He possessed some literary ability, and had indulged an early passion for literary pursuits by writing for the columns of a weekly newspaper. This made him, to some extent, acquainted with individuals connected with the press. Conversing, one day, with the owner of a popular periodical, the latter enumerated many instances of persons who had become wealthy in the publishing business, Turnham caught at this, and pondered it in his mind. He had a few thousand dollars, with which, after mature deliberation, he determined to purchase a half-interest in a newly-started weekly newspaper, the projector of which found himself in difficulties, and compelled to take a partner.

Upon this new pursuit in life, Turnham entered with great spirit. There was a newspaper in the city of the same class. It had been in existence for some years, and was firmly established. Before coming into the business himself, Mr. Turnham had been a regular subscriber for this paper, and written for its columns. He had always liked it, and considered it a very excellent publication. But now it wore an indifferent aspect in his eyes, and he never took it up without a disparaging remark.

"Isn't it astonishing," he said, to his partner in the business, one day, "that s paper like this should have such a circulation? It isn't comparable with ours."

To this the partner readily assented.

Turnham commenced reading the number of the paper upon which he had just commented.

"Just listen to this!" he said, suddenly; and he read a few paragraphs. Then he added: "What do you think of that'?"

" I shouldn't like to see that in our paper," the partner answered.

"No; it's enough to kill any concern. I'm sure that no parent, who sees it and reflects upon it, will allow another number of the paper to come into his house. Very certain am I, that I would order a discontinuance instanter."

" So would I," returned the agreeing partner.

After sitting silent, with his eyes upon the floor, for some time, Turnham said, speaking slowly –

" It would be a capital move for us just now, to take this matter up, and remark with some severity upon it."

" And get a storm about our ears for our pains."

"There is nothing that I would like better. It would be the very thing for us. We circulate six or seven thousand, and they twenty thousand. The controversy would make us known to all their readers, and known as the advocates of religion and a high morality. We should have the public all on our side. Without doubt, in three months, their list would diminish at least five thousand, perhaps more, and ours increase that number. It is a tide in our affairs, depend upon it, that we should take at the flood. If you do not positively object, I will fire a Paixhan gun upon them next week, and then prepare my batteries for s regular fight."

"Just as you like," returned the pliant partner. " There is no doubt of its doing us good."

" None in the world. This false step of our neighbor is a lucky thing for us."

In the hope of building up his own establishment by ruining his neighbor's, Turnham opened upon the rival newspaper with his Paixhan gun, as he called it, and then waited 'anxiously for the return fire. A week went by; and, at length, wet from the press, and, to his imagination, smoking with wrath, came the paper he was so anxious to see, He opened it with eager hands, and starting at the first editorial column, ran his eyes over the whole inside page, in search of the rejoinder he expected. But, to his mortification and disappointment, not the slightest allusion was found to the violent attack he had made. Rut, in his search, one paragraph, more conspicuous than all the rest, attracted his attention. It was this: –

"ENLARGEMENT.– The publishers of this paper have determined to enlarge and greatly improve it. They have ordered an entire new font of types, and will add a column to each page, and increase the length of the pages several inches, so as to give at least a third more of reading matter. Their large and rapidly increasing subscription list enables them to do this. In advance of every other paper in the country, it is their intention to keep in advance, spite of all competition. To this they stand pledged to the public, and prepared to redeem their pledge."

Turnham read this over twice, and then laid aside the paper, in a very quiet and deliberate manner. He had been completely outgeneraled; and he felt it. Instead of breaking down his neighbor and building up himself, his movement was likely to result in the establishment of his neighbor on a broader basis, and the complete overshadowing of his own concern, that would be in danger of growing feeble for want of sunshine. He took it far granted, that the determination to enlarge and improve was the mode taken to answer his attack; and he was right. It was the reaction upon his selfish attempt to ruin a neighbor, in order to build up himself.

Ashamed, after having written so warmly against the rival establishment, and after promising to refer to the subject again, to drop the matter, Turnham concocted a still more bitter article, in the hope of provoking a reply. To this, he received the effectual and silencing rejoinder of an enlargement and improvement. The appearance of his neighbor, so superior to his own, completely disheartened Turnham. It was plain, that unless a paper of equal pretensions were published, it would be no use to struggle for an existence. The list they had, by no means justified increased expense. The profits were yet only in prospect. But it became a question between enlargement and abandonment, and they chose the former.

Not six months had elapsed from the time Turnham entered the business of newspaper publishing, before he was heartily sick of it, and determined to sell out his interest for the sum paid for it, which was three thousand dollars – more than double what he now considered it worth. He had a young friend, just of age, who had been smitten with a love of the muses, and who imagined himself to possess literary abilities of no common order. This person received, at his majority, some six or seven thousand dollars, the income from which partly contributed to his support while he prosecuted the study of law.

Upon this young man, whose name was Wheeler, Turnham fixed as the scapegoat who was to bear the evil of his false step. For a month or two, he managed, whenever he met him, to turn the conversation to the subject of newspapers and periodicals, and the fortunes that were every day made by publishers. His own fortune he considered as made; for the paper of which he was part owner, was increasing in patronage almost beyond precedent. He alarmed that ten thousand dollars would not tempt him to sell his interest.

In this way, he kept the young man's thoughts in one channel, and filled him with a desire to exchange the slowly-rewarded profession he had adopted, for one that promised such golden harvests. At length, he vaguely hinted that, if he were not in so good a business, he would be tempted to join a friend in opening an office as an exchange broker. An allusion to this was more distinctly made soon afterwards – so distinctly, that the friend could not help remarking thereon.

Finally, by gradual approaches on the subject, and by a system of false representations, ingeniously made, Turnham created an eager desire in the mind of Wheeler to buy out his half interest in the paper, and actually to make a proposition to that effect. This proposition was met by certain well-timed remarks, going to show his reluctance at giving up so certain a means of fortune. At last, he agreed to take—five thousand dollars for his part of the paper, which was paid to him in cash.

"A. lucky escape!" he said to himself, when the bargain was complete; and so full was he of self-congratulation at this fortunate turn of affairs, that ho had not a thought or feeling of sympathy for the friend he had deceived, and who lost every dollar invested, and became involved in debt, by the breaking down of the newspaper, in little over a year.

Wheeler saw, after he had been in the establishment about a month, that he had not been fairly dealt by; and he also saw that, unless the subscription list of the paper could be greatly increased; ruin was inevitable. He struggled hard to overcome the difficulties of his position, but he struggled in vain. The subscription increased but slowly, and the paper was published at a loss from the day he bought into it until it stopped for want of means to carry it on.

But the young man, deeply as he felt the wrong he had sustained at the hands of Turnham, never uttered a word on the subject to that individual, although his manner towards him became reserved, and their intimate intercourse was not continued. He set him down's his heart as a dishonest man, and determined to mark him as such. After retiring from editorial life, Wheeler, who had been admitted to the bar, entered upon the practice of his profession, determined to rest there all his hopes of future success.

In the mean time, Turnham had opened an exchange once, and commenced operating among a class of men quite as sharp-witted and far more experienced than himself. His success, during the first year or two, was by no means equal to his expectations. Rut, after that, he understood the operation of things better, and knew how to take advantage of the almost hourly fluctuations created in the money market by the eager spirit of gain.

At the age of twenty-five, Turnham began paying his addresses to a young lady, who was known as an heiress. Her parents were dead; but she lived with an aunt, for whom she had a most tender regard, and in whose judgment she reposed great confidence. It happened that Wheeler made the acquaintance of this aunt shortly after Turnham commenced visiting the niece; and it also happened that, from some allusions made to the young man, the aunt was led to ask Wheeler if he knew him.

"Yes, and to my sorrow," was the unhesitating answer.

"Why do you say that?" asked the lady.

"I was his friend, and confided in his honor, and he deceived me," replied Wheeler.

Nothing more particular was alleged against Turnham; but this was enough. The lady took the pains to ascertain that Wheeler was a man of truth and integrity, and therefore believed what he said.

When Turnham called, next time, upon the young heiress, with the intention of making known his sentiments, he was told by her aunt that she did not wish to receive his visits; and so all his present hopes of obtaining a fortune by marriage were scattered to the winds. Rut he never dreamed that this was merely a reaction upon his own conduct. Nothing could have been farther from his mind.

In entering into the exchange business, Turnham had not contemplated a partnership with a friend, as he stated to Wheeler. He had only said so in order to make up a good story. He commenced business alone, upon the five thousand dollars he had received for his piper; and continued it, with more or less success, for ten years; during which time he had married a lady, older than himself by many years, who was reputed to be worth sty thousand dollars. The fortune turned out to be only five thousand dollars; and this the wise lady had taken good care to have so secured that he could not touch it. At the end of ten years, by a sudden change in the stock market, and the explosion of two or three fancy stock concerns, Turnham lost thirty thousand dollars, more than all he had made. The extent of this loss be concealed, and soon after began to look around him for a partner with capital. It was not long before he found a young man, whose father was a wealthy merchant, and inclined to furnish him with twenty thousand dollars, if he would make a good connection with a well-established exchange broker.

This was just the thing for Turnham; and he so represented his business, and gave such good references as to standing and capacity, that he succeeded in his wishes. A co-partnership was agreed upon. The terms of the connection being settled, they were placed in the hands of a conveyancer, who was directed to prepare therefrom articles of agreement. Before these were signed, the father, who was a prudent man, submitted them to his lawyer, who happened to be Mr. Wheeler, now in a good practice, and standing high at the bar as a man of talents and great probity.

" Mr. Turnham did you say it was?" remarked the lawyer, with an expression of surprise, when the business was stated to him, and before he had looked at the papers.

" Yes, sir," returned the merchant, who was struck by the peculiar tone and manner of Wheeler. "Do you know anything against him?"

" I should hardly like to see a friend of mine connected with him in business."

"Why?"

" Because, to speak freely, as I deem it my duty to do in the present instance, I do not think him an honest man."

" Not an honest man? You astonish me, Mr. Wheeler. What evidence have you of this?"

" I will plainly state to you the fact upon which my conclusion is based, and leave you to make up your own mind upon the subject. I have no wish to injure Mr. Turnham, but I feel it to be my duty to warn the innocent when I see them about to run into danger."

Wheeler then gave the merchant a plain history of his newspaper speculation; and concluded by saying –

"I have stated the circumstance as it occurred; you must make up your own mind in regard to it." On the day that the merchant waited upon his lawyer with the articles of agreement between Turnham and his son, the broker found himself exceedingly hard pressed. A number of heavy drafts for funds in his hands belonging to his correspondents in New York, Boston, and New Orleans, were presented, and had to be cashed; also, several notes given for stocks, that were not now worth ten cents in the dollar. By the most earnest efforts, he succeeded in getting through; but he was fully convinced that it would be impossible for him to stand for another day without important aid. From nowhere could this come except through his new partner, whose appearance, with the articles of agreement having his signature attached, he had been looking for hourly. But up to four o'clock, he had looked in vain. Fearing that he might not come in before morning, and dreading the consequences of even an hour's delay, he deemed it best to call around at the store of the young man's father, and thus give matters a chance of coming to a close. If a good opportunity for doing so occurred, he meant to ask to have a few thousand dollars advanced on the next day. In fact, the hope of getting hold of the money was the only reason he had for venturing to press matters to an earlier issue than they would come if left to themselves.

Turnham found the merchant in his counting-room alone. His reception he thought formal, and even cold.

"Is your son in'." he asked.

"No, sir," was replied; and then there was silence.

" Will he be in this afternoon?"

"I think not."

Turnham felt oppressed. There was something in the manner of the merchant that he could not understand : a marled change that was unaccountable. After sitting for a short time, Turnham arose and retired. The merchant bowed to him low and formally as ho did so.

"Something is wrong," he muttered to himself, as he walked hurriedly back to his office.

The evening mail brought notice of drafts at sight, amounting to fifteen thousand dollars, all, or nearly all of which would, probably, be presented next day. This made ruin certain, unless very important aid could be secured.

The time until evening was spent in efforts to obtain money. He talked largely to those upon whom he called, about the co-partnership he had formed, and the great command of capital it would soon give him. All this was credited; but the parties hadn't the money to spare from their own operations.

"When is this connection to be formed?" asked one of the persons to whom he had applied.

"Immediately," was answered. " The articles of agreement are drawn up, and nothing now remains but to sign them. This would have been done to-day, only Mr. H–– wished to submit them to his lawyer.

" Who is his legal adviser? Do you know?"

" I do not."

" Let me see – I did know. Yes, now I remember. It is Wheeler. He's a sound lawyer."

" Wheeler! Are you sure?"

" O yes. I recollect now very well. Wheeler is the man."

Turnham went back to his office, thinking more seriously about his conduct towards Wheeler than he had ever thought before, and feeling anxious and alarmed lest the lawyer should have retaliated upon him by informing Mr. H— of what he had done. The effect, he saw, would be to ruin him.

Turnham slept but a few hours that night. In the morning he arose in a feverish state of mind, but resolved upon one thing, and that was to see Mr. H— and his son before nine o'clock, and know whether the articles of agreement were to be signed or not. Accordingly, he called upon the merchant early. Mr. H— received him even more coldly than before, and the son looked embarrassed and unhappy.

" Have you had the papers examined?" the broker asked, coming at once to the point.

"We have," replied Mr. H—.

"Are they properly drawn?" asked Turnham.

"Yes; but since I saw you yesterday, circumstances have led me to change my views in regard to my son. Of this I should have informed you during the day. I trust it will be no matter of serious disappointment. A connection, fully as advantageous as the one about being formed with my son, you can, without doubt, easily make."

" The reason of your extraordinary conduct," said Turnham, who had become quite pale, "you will certainly explain."

"I can make no explanations, sir," returned the merchant, coldly. " My reasons for what I do are sufficient for my own justification. My conduct may appear extraordinary in your eyes; but I am satisfied that, in reality, you have no right to complain of it."

This was all the satisfaction Turnham received. On that day his acceptances were dishonored; and drafts to a large amount, drawn against deposits and collections that ought to have been in his hands, went back unpaid.

Ready as the broker would have been to secure something for himself in the disaster that befell him, it came upon him so suddenly as to leave this out of his power. Everything was swept from his hands, and he was compelled to begin again with less than a hundred dollars in his pocket.

For once, he saw as well as felt the reaction of his own conduct, and was forced to acknowledge that, in extricating himself from an early difficulty by improper means, he had laid the foundation for ruin in after life. Could he have seen deeper into the relation existing between causes and effects, he would have understood more fully the great error he had committed, arid trembled in fear of even more reactive consequences. Doubtless they came

In illustration of the law stated at first, we have chosen a very plain and familiar example. Hundreds of others might be given, taken from every grade, and involving all social relations. The consequeuces of' every one's conduct must be felt in some form or other, earlier or later in life. This is inevitable, for against all action must come reaction; and they will bear a due relation in quality and force to each other – a truth that we cannot lay too deeply to heart.

Godey's Lady's Book is brought to you by