p. 94 | A Sign of Dishonesty

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Mar 15, 1877

A Sign of Dishonesty.

Two centuries ago it was thought an insult to the Highlands to ask a note from a debtor. It was considered the same thing as saying, “I doubt your honor.” If parties had business matters to transact, they stepped into the air, fixed their eyes upon the heavens, and each repeated his obligation with no mortal witness. A mark was then carved upon some rock or tree near by, as a remembrance of the compact. Such a thing as a breach of contract was rarely met with, so highly did the people regard their honor. When the march of improvement brought the new mode of doing business they were often pained by these innovations. An anecdote is handed down of a farmer who had been to the Lowlands and learned worldly wisdom. On returning to his native parish he had need of a sum of money, and made bold to ask from a gentleman of means, named Stewart. This was kindly granted, and Mr. S. counted out the gold. This done, the farmer wrote a receipt and offered it to Mr. S. “What is this, man,” cried Mr. S., eyeing the slip of paper. “It is a receipt, sir, binding me to give ye back yer gold at the right time,” replied Sandy. “Binding ye? Well,

my man, if ye canna trust yersel’ I’m sure I’ll no trust ye. Ye canna hae my gold.” And gathering it up, he put it back in his desk and turned his key upon it. “But, sir, I might die,” replied the canny Scotchman, bringing up an argument in favor of his new wisdom, “and perhaps my sons might refuse ye; but the bit of paper would compel them.” “Compel them to sustain a dead father’s honor,” cried the Celt. “They’ll need compelling to do right if this is the road ye’re leading them. I’ll neither trust you nor them. Ye can gang elsewhere for money; but you’ll find none in the parish that’ll put more faith in a bit o’ paper than in a neighbor’s word o’ honor, and his fear o’ God.”