Read A Benjamin Franklin Reader Online
Authors: Walter Isaacson
Your affectionate friend,
B. Franklin
P.S. The plums came safe, and were so sweet from the cause you mentioned, that I could scarce taste the sugar.
As an apostle of tolerance, Franklin found many ways to express his disdain for religious persecution. Not surprisingly, he often used his favorite devices of the hoax or parody. One of these was a fabricated chapter of the Bible, which he wrote in 1755. Four years later, he was visiting Scotland where he stayed at the manor of Sir Alexander Dick, a renowned physician and scientist, and there he met the greats of the Scottish Enlightenment: the economist Adam Smith, the philosopher David Hume, and the jurist and historian Lord Kames. He read them his parable, which so amused his companions that he sent them all copies.
1755
CHAP. XXVII
1. And it came to pass after these Things, that Abraham sat in the Door of his Tent, about the going down of the Sun.
2. And behold a Man, bowed with Age, came from the Way of the Wilderness, leaning on a Staff.
3. And Abraham arose and met him, and said unto him, Turn in, I pray thee, and wash thy Feet, and tarry all Night, and thou shalt arise early on the Morrow, and go on thy Way.
4. And the Man said, Nay, for I will abide under this Tree.
5. But Abraham pressed him greatly; so he turned, and they went into the Tent; and Abraham baked unleavened Bread, and they did eat.
6. And when Abraham saw that the Man blessed not God, he said unto him, Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator of Heaven and Earth?
7. And the Man answered and said, I do not worship the God thou speakest of; neither do I call upon his Name; for I have made to myself a God, which abideth always in mine House, and provideth me with all Things.
8. And Abraham’s Zeal was kindled against the Man; and he arose, and fell upon him, and drove him forth with Blows into the Wilderness.
9. And at Midnight God called unto Abraham, saying, Abraham, where is the Stranger?
10. And Abraham answered and said, Lord, he would not worship thee, neither would he call upon thy Name; therefore have I driven him out from before my Face into the Wilderness.
11. And God said, Have I born with him these hundred ninety and eight Years, and nourished him, and clothed him, notwithstanding his Rebellion against me, and couldst not thou, that art thyself a Sinner, bear with him one Night?
12. And Abraham said, Let not the Anger of my Lord wax hot against his Servant. Lo, I have sinned; forgive me, I pray Thee:
13. And Abraham arose and went forth into the Wilderness, and sought diligently for the Man, and found him, and returned with him to his Tent; and when he had entreated him kindly, he sent him away on the Morrow with Gifts.
14. And God spake again unto Abraham, saying, For this thy Sin shall thy Seed be afflicted four Hundred Years in a strange Land:
15. But for thy Repentance will I deliver them; and they shall come forth with Power, and with Gladness of Heart, and with much Substance.
In the summer of 1757, Franklin was sent to London as an envoy for the Pennsylvania Assembly to lobby against the taxation policies of the Penn family, the proprietors who ran the colony, On his voyage over, he wrote the preface to what would be his final edition of Poor Richard’s Almanac. In it he invented a character named Father Abraham who gives a speech that strings together all of the best and most famous maxims that Poor Richard had sprinkled in the margins of his almanacs over the years. Franklin’s wry tone was, even then, still intact. Poor Richard, who is standing in the back of the crowd, reports at the end: “The people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately practiced the contrary.” Father Abraham’s speech was soon published as
The Way to Wealth
and became, for a time, the most famous book to come out of colonial America. Within 40 years, it was reprinted in 145 editions and seven languages; the French one was entitled
La Science du Bonhomme Richard.
J
ULY
7, 1757
Courteous Reader,
I have heard that nothing gives an author so great pleasure, as to find his works respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed; for though’I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an eminent author of almanacs annually now a full quarter of a century, my brother authors in the same way, for what reason I know not, have ever been very sparing in their applauses; and no other author has taken the least notice of me, so that did not my writings produce me some solid pudding, the great deficiency of praise would have quite discouraged me.
I concluded at length, that the people were the best judges of my merit; for they buy my works; and besides, in my rambles, where I am not personally known, I have frequently heard one or other of my adages repeated, with, as Poor Richard says, at the end of it; this gave me some satisfaction, as it showed not only that my instructions were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect for my authority; and I own, that to encourage the practice of remembering and repeating those wise sentences, I have sometimes quoted myself with great gravity.
Judge then how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately where a great number of people were collected at a vendue of merchant goods. The hour of sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness of the times, and one of the company called to a plain clean old man, with white locks, “Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of the times? Won’t these heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How shall we be ever able to pay them? What would you advise us to do?” Father Abraham stood up, and replied, “If you’d have my advice, I’ll give it you in short, for a
word to the wise is enough,
and
many words won’t fill a bushel,
as
Poor Richard says.
” They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows:
“Friends, says he, and neighbors, the taxes are indeed very heavy, and if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly, and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us by allowing an abatement. However let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us;
God helps them that help themselves,
as Poor Richard says, in his almanac of 1733.
“It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service. But idleness taxes many of us much more, if we reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of nothing, with that which is spent in idle employments or amusements, that amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life.
Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears, while the used key is always bright,
as Poor Richard says. But
dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that’s the stuff life is made of,
as Poor Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep! forgetting that
the sleeping fox catches no poultry,
and that
there will be sleeping enough in the grave,
as Poor Richard says. If time be of all things the most precious,
wasting time
must be, as Poor Richard says,
the greatest prodigality,
since, as he elsewhere tells us,
lost time is never found again,
and what we call
time-enough, always proves little enough:
let us then be up and be doing, and doing to the purpose; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity.
Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy,
as Poor Richard says; and
he that riseth late, must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night.
While
laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him,
as we read in Poor Richard, who adds,
drive thy business, let not that drive thee;
and
early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
“So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times. We may make these times better if we bestir ourselves.
Industry need not wish,
as Poor Richard says, and
he that lives upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains, without pains,
then
help hands, for I have no lands,
or if I have, they are smartly taxed. And, as Poor Richard likewise observes,
he that hath a trade hath an estate,
and
he that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor;
but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or neither the estate, nor the office, will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious we shall never starve; for, as Poor Richard says,
at the working man’s house hunger looks in, but dares not enter.
Nor will the bailiff nor the constable enter,
for industry pays debts, while despair increaseth them,
says Poor Richard. What though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy,
diligence is the mother of good luck,
as Poor Richard says, and
God gives all things to industry.
Then
plough deep, while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep,
says Poor Dick. Work while it is called today, for you know not how much you may be hindered tomorrow, which makes Poor Richard say,
one today is worth two tomorrows;
and farther,
have you somewhat to do tomorrow, do it today.
If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master should catch you idle? Are you then your own master,
be ashamed to catch yourself idle,
as Poor Dick says. When there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your country, and your gracious king, be up by peep of day;
let not the sun look down and say, inglorious here he lies.
Handle your tools without mittens; remember that
the cat in gloves catches no mice,
as Poor Richard says. ’Tis true there is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak handed, but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects, for
constant dropping wears away stones,
and by
diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable;
and
little strokes fell great oaks,
as Poor Richard says in his almanac, the year I cannot just now remember.
“Methinks I hear some of you say, must a man afford himself no leisure? I will tell thee, my friend, what Poor Richard says,
employ thy time well if thou meanest to gain leisure;
and,
since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour.
Leisure is time for doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never; so that, as Poor Richard says,
a life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things.
Do you imagine that sloth will afford you more comfort than labor? No, for as Poor Richard says,
trouble springs from idleness, and grievous toil from needless ease. Many without labor would live by their wits only, but they break for want of stock.
Whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty, and respect:
fly pleasures, and they’ll follow you. The diligent spinner has a large shift,
and
now I have a sheep and a cow, everybody bids me good morrow,
all which is well said by Poor Richard.
“But with our industry, we must likewise be steady, settled and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and not trust too much to others; for, as Poor Richard says,
I never saw an oft removed tree,
Nor yet an oft removed family,
That throve so well as those that settled be.
“And again,
three removes is as bad as a fire,
and again,
keep the shop, and thy shop will keep thee;
and again,
if you would have your business done, go; if not, send.
And again,
He that by the plough would thrive,
Himself must either hold or drive.
“And again,
the eye of a master will do more work than both his hands;
and again,
want of care does us more damage than want of knowledge;
and again,
not to oversee workmen is to leave them your purse open.
Trusting too much to others’ care is the ruin of many; for, as the almanac says,
in the affairs of this world men are saved not by faith, but by the want of it;
but a man’s own care is profitable; for, saith Poor Dick,
learning is to the studious,
and
riches to the careful,
as well as
power to the bold,
and
Heaven to the virtuous.
And farther,
if you would have a faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself.
And again, he adviseth to circumspection and care, even in the smallest matters, because sometimes
a little neglect may breed great mischief;
adding,
for want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe the horse was lost, and for want of a horse the rider was lost,
being overtaken and slain by the enemy, all for want of care about a horse-shoe nail.
“So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one’s own business; but to these we must add frugality, if we would make our industry more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets,
keep his nose all his life to the grindstone,
and die not worth a
groat
at last.
A fat kitchen makes a lean will,
as Poor Richard says; and,
Many estates are spent in the getting,
Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting,
And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.
“If you would be wealthy,
says he, in another almanac,
think of saving as well as of getting: the Indies have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than her incomes.
Away then with your expensive follies, and you will not have so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families; for, as Poor Dick says,
Women and wine, game and deceit,
Make the wealth small, and the wants great.
“And farther,
what maintains one vice, would bring up two children.
You may think perhaps that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can be no great Matter; but remember what Poor Richard says,
many
a little
makes a mickle,
and farther,
beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship,
and again,
who dainties love, shall beggars prove,
and moreover,
fools make Feasts, and wise men eat them.
“Here you are all got together at this vendue of fineries and knicknacks. You call them goods, but if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may for less than they cost; but if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. Remember what Poor Richard says,
buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.
And again,
at a great pennyworth pause a while:
he means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good. For in another place he says,
many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths.
Again, Poor Richard says,
’tis foolish to lay our money in a purchase of repentance;
and yet this folly is practiced every day at vendues, for want of minding the almanac.
Wise men,
as Poor Dick says,
learn by others’harms, fools scarcely by their own,
but,
felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum.
Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their families;
silks and satins, scarlet and velvets,
as Poor Richard says,
put out the kitchen fire.
These are not the necessaries of life; they can scarcely be called the conveniencies, and yet only because they look pretty, how many want to have them. The artificial wants of mankind thus become more numerous than the natural; and, as Poor Dick says,
for one
poor
person, there are an hundred
indigent. By these, and other extravagancies, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who through industry and frugality have maintained their standing; in which case it appears plainly, that a
ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees,
as Poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of; they think
’tis day, and will never be night;
that a little to be spent out of so much, is not worth minding;
(a child and a fool,
as Poor Richard says,
imagine twenty shillings and twenty years can never be spent)
but,
always taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom;
then, as Poor Dick says,
when the well’s dry, they know the worth of water.
But this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice;
if you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some,
for,
he that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing,
and indeed so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it in again. Poor Dick farther advises, and says,