idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your relations, and your country. Handle your tools without mittens: remember that "the cat in gloves catches no mice," as poor Richard says. It is true, there is much to be done, and, perhaps, you are weakhanded; 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."

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; for, a "life of lei sure and a life of laziness are two things. Many, without labour 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 will fol low you. The diligent spinner has a large shift; and now I have a sheep and a cow, ever body bids me good

morrow."

II. 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 thy 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 other's care is the ruin of many; for, "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, "if you would have a faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself. A little neglect may breed great mischief; 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 a little care about a horse-shoe nail."

III. 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 grind-stone, and die not worth a groat at last. A fat kitchen makes

a lean will;" 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, 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 then have so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families, for

"Woman and wine, game and deceit,

Makes the wealth small, and the want great."

And farther, "what maintains one vice will 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 "many a little makes a mickle." Beware of little expenses; "a small leak will sink a great ship," as poor Richard says; and again, "who dainties love, shall beggars prove;" and moreover, "fools make feasts and wise men eat them." Here you are all got together to this sale of fineries and nicknacks. 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 awhile;" 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 great pennyworths." Again, "it is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance;" and yet this folly is practised every day at auctions; for want of minding the Almanac. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back have gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their families; "silks and sattins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire," as poor Richard says. These are not the necessaries of life, they can scarcely be called the conveniences: and yet only because they look pretty, how many want to have them? By these and other extrava gancies 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 "it is day, and will never be night," that a little to be spent out of so much is not worth minding; but "always taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting in soon comes to the bottom," as poor Richard says, and then, "when the well is 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," as poor Richard says; and indeed so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it again. Poor Dick farther advises, and says,

"Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse,

Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse."

And again, "pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more saucy," When you have bought one

1

give advice but we cannot give conduct," however, remember this, "they that will not be counselled cannot be helped;" and farther, that "if you will not hear reason, she will surely rap your knuckles,” as poor Richard

says.

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it and approved the doctrine, and immediately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon; for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my Almanacs, and digested all I had dropt on those topics during the course of twenty five years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it. though I was conscious, that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which he ascribed to me; out rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and though I had at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine. I am, as ever, thine to serve thee.

RICHARD SAUNDERS,

CHAPTER XXXIV.

"WHEN poverty comes in at the door," said a shrewd observer, "love flies out at the window." When foolish families, "wasting their substance in riotous living," have fairly run their estates through the girt, and brought a host of hungry sheriffs and constables to the door, seizing on all their trumpery of fine carpets and curtains, and side-boards, and looking glasses for auction, oh what sudden palpitations and blank looks ensue? what bitter upbraidings between husbands and wives, parents and children! what lyings, and perjuries, and secret transfers of property to cheat creditors! with universal wreck of character, and conscience, and

every thing else that can give dignity or pleasure to life!

But while Franklin, by his famous Almanac "poor Richard" was generously striving to prevent all these curses of sloth and extravagance, his wide spread newspapers were scattering thousands of the finest lectures on that honest industry and prudence, which makes nations wealthy and glorious. And his lecturing, like one born to be the moralist of nations, was in that style of brevity, sprightliness, and nerve, that young and old, men, women, and children were never tired of reading. And to give more value to these beautiful little essays, they were always written under the smarting recollection of what himself had suffered, from the follies which he wished to guard others against. Witness first, his celebrated little story, entitled

THE WHISTLE.

Á TRUE STORY.

WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW.

WHEN I was a child, about seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop, where they sold toys for children: and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that i met by the way, in the hands of another boy, Í voluntarily offered him all my money for it. I then came home; and went whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle; but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth. This put me in mind what good things, I might have bought with the rest of my money; and they laughed at me so much, for my folly, that I cried with vexation: and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me plea

sure.

This, however, was afterwards of use to me. The impression continued on my mind; so that, often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to