little sum (which may be daily wasted either in time or expence
unperceived) a man of credit may, on his own security, have the
constant possession and use of an hundred pounds. So much in stock,
briskly turned by an industrious man, produces great advantage.
Remember this saying, "the good paymaster is lord of another man's
purse." He that is known to pay punctually and exactly to the time he
promises may at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money
his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry
and frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising of a young
man in the world than punctuality and justice in all his dealings:
therefore, never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you
promised, lest a disappointment shut up your friend's purse for ever.
The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to be
regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine
at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer: but
if he sees you at a billiard-table, or hears your voice at a tavern,
when you should be at work, he sends for his money the next day;
demands it before he can receive it in a lump.
It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe; it makes you
appear a careful as well as an honest man, and that still increases
your credit.
Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and of living
accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who have credit fall
into. To prevent this, keep an exact account for some time, both of
your expences and your income. If you take the pains at first to
mention particulars, it will have this good effect: you will discover
how wonderfully small trifling expences mount up to large sums, and
will discern what might have been, and may for the future be saved,
without occasioning any great inconvenience.
In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as the
way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, _industry_ and
_frugality_; that is, waste neither _time_ nor _money_, but make the
best use of both. Without industry and frugality nothing will do, and
with them every thing. He, that gets all he can honestly, and saves
all he gets (necessary expences excepted), will certainly become
_rich_--if that Being who governs the world, to whom all should look
for a blessing on their honest endeavours, doth not, in his wise
providence, otherwise determine.
AN OLD TRADESMAN.
FOOTNOTE:
[176] This paper and the hints that follow it are from the
Repository, vol. II. p. 169 and 171, where, as they are placed under
the head of original articles, we presume they first appeared.
_Editor._
_Necessary Hints to those that would be Rich._
Written Anno 1736.
The use of money is all the advantage there is in having money.
For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hundred pounds,
provided you are a man of known prudence and honesty.
He, that spends a groat a day idly, spends idly above six pounds a
year, which is the price for the use of one hundred pounds.
He, that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per day, one day
with another, wastes the privilege of using one hundred pounds each
day.
He, that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses five
shillings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into the sea.
He, that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but all the
advantage that might be made by turning it in dealing, which, by the
time that a young man becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum
of money.
Again: he, that sells upon credit, asks a price for what he sells
equivalent to the principal and interest of his money for the time he
is to be kept out of it; therefore, he, that buys upon credit, pays
interest for what he buys, and he, that pays ready money, might let
that money out to use: so that he, that possesses any thing he has
bought, pays interest for the use of it.
Yet, in buying goods, it is best to pay ready money, because he,
that sells upon credit, expects to lose five per cent by bad debts;
therefore he charges, on all he sells upon credit, an advance, that
shall make up that deficiency.
Those, who pay for what they buy upon credit, pay their share of this
advance.
He, that pays ready money, escapes, or may escape, that charge.
A penny sav'd is two-pence clear,
A pin a day's a groat a year.
_The way to make Money Plenty in every Man's Pocket[177]._
At this time, when the general complaint is, that "money is scarce,"
it will be an act of kindness to inform the moneyless how they may
reinforce their pockets. I will acquaint them with the true secret
of money-catching, the certain way to fill empty purses, and how to
keep them always full. Two simple rules, well observed, will do the
business.
First, let honesty and industry be thy constant companions; and
Secondly, spend one penny less than thy clear gains.
Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to thrive, and will
never again cry with the empty belly-ach: neither will creditors
insult thee, nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze
thee. The whole hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure spring
up in every corner of thy heart. Now, therefore, embrace these rules
and be happy. Banish the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and
live independent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy face at
the approach of the rich, nor suffer the pain of feeling little when
the sons of fortune walk at thy right hand: for independency, whether
with little or much, is good fortune, and placeth thee on even ground
with the proudest of the golden fleece. Oh, then, be wise, and let
industry walk with thee in the morning, and attend thee until thou
reachest the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be as the breath of
thy soul, and never forget to have a penny when all thy expences are
enumerated and paid: then shalt thou reach the point of happiness,
and independence shall be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet and
crown; then shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken
wretch because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse because the hand
which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds.
FOOTNOTE:
[177] From the American Museum, vol. II. p. 86. _Editor._
_New Mode of Lending Money[178]._
_Paris, April 22, 1784._
I send you herewith a bill for ten louis d'ors. I do not pretend to
give such a sum. I only _lend_ it to you. When you shall return to
your country, you cannot fail getting into some business, that will
in time enable you to pay all your debts. In that case, when you
meet with another honest man in similar distress, you must _pay me_
by lending this sum to him, enjoining him, to _discharge the debt_
by a like operation, when he shall be able, and shall meet with such
another opportunity. I hope it may thus go through many hands before
it meet with a _knave_ to stop its progress. This is a trick of mine
for doing a good deal with a little money. I am not rich enough to
afford _much_ in good works, and so am obliged to be cunning and make
the most of a _little_.
B. FRANKLIN.
FOOTNOTE:
[178] From the Gentleman's Magazine, for September, 1797;
communicated by the gentleman who received it. _Editor._
_An Economical Project[179]._
TO THE AUTHORS OF THE JOURNAL.
MESSIEURS,
You often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. Permit me to
communicate to the public, through your paper, one, that has lately
been made by myself, and which I conceive may be of great utility.
I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new lamp of
Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for
its splendor; but a general enquiry was made, whether the oil it
consumed was not in proportion to the light it afforded, in which
case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one present could
satisfy us in that point, which all agreed ought to be known, it
being a very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expence of
lighting our apartments, when every other article of family expence
was so much augmented.
I was pleased to see this general concern for economy, for I love
economy exceedingly.
I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my
head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise waked me about
six in the morning, when I was surprised to find my room filled with
light; and I imagined at first, that a number of those lamps had been
brought into it: but, rubbing my eyes, I perceived the light came
in at the windows. I got up and looked out to see what might be the
occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horison,
from whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber, my
domestic having negligently omitted the preceding evening to close
the shutters.
I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found that it was
but six o'clock; and still thinking it something extraordinary, that
the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanack, where I
found it to be the hour given for his rising on that day. I looked
forward too, and found he was to rise still earlier every day till
towards the end of June; and that at no time in the year he retarded
his rising so long as till eight o'clock. Your readers, who with me
have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and seldom regard
the astronomical part of the almanack, will be as much astonished
as I was, when they hear of his rising so early; and especially
when I assure them, _that he gives light as soon as he rises_. I
am convinced of this. I am certain of my fact. One cannot be more
certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And, having repeated
this observation the three following mornings, I found always
precisely the same result.
Yet so it happens, that when I speak of this discovery to others,
I can easily perceive by their countenances, though they forbear
expressing it in words, that they do not quite believe me. One,
indeed, who is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me, that I
must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the light coming
into my room; for it being well known, as he says, that there could
be no light abroad at that hour, it follows that none could enter
from without; and that of consequence, my windows being accidentally
left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let
out the darkness: and he used many ingenious arguments to shew me how
I might, by that means, have been deceived. I own, that he puzzled me
a little, but he did not satisfy me; and the subsequent observations
I made, as above mentioned, confirmed me in my first opinion.
This event has given rise in my mind to several serious and important
reflections. I considered that, if I had not been awakened so early
in the morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of
the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the following night by
candle-light; and the latter being a much more expensive light than
the former, my love of economy induced me to muster up what little
arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations, which I
shall give you, after observing that utility is, in my opinion, the
test of value in matters of invention, and that a discovery which
can be applied to no use, or is not good for something, is good for
nothing.
I took for the basis of my calculation the supposition that there
are 100,000 families in Paris, and that these families consume in
the night half a pound of bougies, or candles per hour. I think this
is a moderate allowance, taking one family with another; for though
I believe some consume less, I know that many consume a great deal
more. Then estimating seven hours per day, as the medium quantity
between the time of the sun's rising and ours, he rising during the
six following months from six to eight hours before noon, and there
being seven hours of course per night in which we burn candles, the
account will stand thus:--
In the six months between the twentieth of March and the twentieth of
September, there are
Nights 183
Hours of each night in which we burn
candles 7
-------
Multiplication gives for the total number
of hours 1,281
These 1,281 hours multiplied by 100,000,
the number of inhabitants give 128,100,000
One hundred twenty-eight millions and
one hundred thousand hours, spent at
Paris by candle-light, which, at half
a pound of wax and tallow per hour,
gives the weight of 64,050,000
Sixty-four millions and fifty thousand of
pounds, which, estimating the whole
at the medium price of thirty sols the
pound, makes the sum of ninety-six
millions and seventy-five thousand
livres tournois 96,075,000
An immense sum! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the
economy of using sunshine instead of candles.
If it should be said, that people are apt to be obstinately attached
to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce them to
rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be of little use: I
answer, _Nil desperandum_. I believe all who have common sense, as
soon as they have learnt from this paper that it is day-light when
the sun rises, will contrive to rise with him; and, to compel the
rest, I would propose the following regulations:
First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every window that
is provided with shutters to keep out the light of the sun.
Second. Let the same salutary operation of police be made use of to
prevent our burning candles, that inclined us last winter to be more
economical in burning wood; that is, let guards be placed in the
shops of the wax and tallow chandlers, and no family be permitted to
be supplied with more than one pound of candles per week.
Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, &c. that
would pass the streets after sun-set, except those of physicians,
surgeons, and midwives.
Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the run rises, let all the bells
in every church be set ringing; and if that is not sufficient, let
cannon be fired in every street, to wake the sluggards effectually,
and make them open their eyes to see their true interest.
All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days: after
which the reformation will be as natural and easy as the present
irregularity: for, _ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute_. Oblige a
man to rise at four in the morning, and it is more than probable he
shall go willingly to bed at eight in the evening; and, having had
eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four the morning
following. But this sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five
thousand livres is not the whole of what may be saved by my
economical project. You may observe, that I have calculated upon only
one half of the year, and much may be saved in the other, though the
days are shorter. Besides, the immense stock of wax and tallow left
unconsumed during the summer will probably make candles much cheaper
for the ensuing winter, and continue them cheaper as long as the
proposed reformation shall be supported.
For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely communicated
and bestowed by me on the public, I demand neither place, pension,
exclusive privilege, nor any other reward whatever. I expect only
to have the honour of it. And yet I know there are little envious
minds who will, as usual, deny me this, and say, that my invention
was known to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring passages out of
the old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with these people,
that the ancients knew not the sun would rise at certain hours; they
possibly had, as we have, almanacks that predicted it: but it does
not follow from thence, that they knew _he gave light as soon as he
rose_. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the antients knew
it, it might have been long since forgotten, for it certainly was
unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians, which to prove, I
need use but one plain simple argument. They are as well-instructed,
judicious and prudent a people as exist any where in the world, all
professing, like myself, to be lovers of economy; and, from the many
heavy taxes required from them by the necessities of the state, have
surely an abundant reason to be economical. I say it is impossible,
that so sensible a people, under such circumstances, should have
lived so long by the smoaky, unwholesome and enormously expensive
light of candles, if they had really known, that they might have had
as much pure light of the sun for nothing.
I am, &c.
An ABONNE.
FOOTNOTE:
[179] "A translation of this letter appeared in one of the daily
papers of Paris about the year 1784. The following is the original
piece, with some additions and corrections made in it by the author."
Note by the editor of the Repository, from which we extract the
letter. _Editor._
TO JOHN ALLEYNE, ESQ.[180]
_On early Marriages._
_Craven Street, Aug. 9, 1768_.
DEAR JACK,
You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on the subject of an early
marriage, by way of answer to the numberless objections, that have
been made by numberless persons, to your own. You may remember, when
you consulted me on the occasion, that I thought youth on both sides
to be no objection. Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen under
my observation, I am rather inclined to think, that early ones stand
the best chance of happiness. The temper and habits of the young are
not yet become so stiff and uncomplying, as when more advanced in
life; they form more easily to each other, and hence many occasions
of disgust are removed. And if youth has less of that prudence, which
is necessary to manage a family, yet the parents and elder friends of
young married persons are generally at hand to afford their advice,
which amply supplies that defect; and by early marriage, youth is
sooner formed to regular and useful life; and possibly some of those
accidents or connections, that might have injured the constitution,
or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. Particular
circumstances of particular persons may possibly sometimes make it
prudent to delay entering into that state; but in general, when
nature has rendered our bodies fit for it, the presumption is in
nature's favour, that she has not judged amiss in making us desire
it. Late marriages are often attended, too, with this further
inconvenience, that there is not the same chance that the parents
shall live to see their offspring educated. "Late children," says
the Spanish proverb, "are early orphans." A melancholy reflection
to those whose case it may be! With us in America, marriages are
generally in the morning of life; our children are therefore educated
and settled in the world by noon; and thus, our business being done,
we have an afternoon and evening of cheerful leisure to ourselves,
such as our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we
are blessed with more children; and from the mode among us, founded
by nature, of every mother suckling and nursing her own child, more
of them are raised. Thence the swift progress of population among
us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, I am glad you are married, and
congratulate you most cordially upon it. You are now in the way of
becoming a useful citizen; and you have escaped the unnatural state
of celibacy for life--the fate of many here, who never intended it,
but who, having too long postponed the change of their condition,
find, at length, that it is too late to think of it, and so live all
their lives in a situation, that greatly lessens a man's value. An
odd volume of a set of books bears not the value of its proportion
to the set: what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissars? it
cannot well cut any thing; it may possibly serve to scrape a trencher.
Pray make my compliments and best wishes acceptable to your bride.
I am old and heavy, or I should ere this have presented them in
person. I shall make but small use of the old man's privilege, that
of giving advice to younger friends. Treat your wife always with
respect; it will procure respect to you, not only from her, but from
all that observe it. Never use a slighting expression to her, even
in jest; for slights in jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to
end in angry earnest. Be studious in your profession, and you will be
learned. Be industrious and frugal, and you will be rich. Be sober
and temperate, and you will be healthy. Be in general virtuous, and
you will be happy. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the
best chance for such consequences. I pray God to bless you both!
being ever your affectionate friend,
B. FRANKLIN.
FOOTNOTE:
[180] From the Gentleman's Magazine for May 1789. _Editor._
TO DOCTOR MATHER OF BOSTON[181].
_Effect of early Impressions on the Mind._
REV. SIR,
I received your kind letter, with your excellent advice to the people
of the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it
will be duly regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly
passed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on
one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be considerable.
Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though it relates
to myself, will not be quite uninteresting to you. When I was a boy,
I met with a book entitled, "Essays to do good," which I think was
written by your father. It had been so little regarded by a former
possessor, that several leaves of it were torn out; but the remainder
gave me such a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my
conduct through life: for I have always set a greater value on the
character of a doer of good, than any other kind of reputation; and
if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public
owes the advantage of it to that book.
You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. I am in my
seventy ninth. We are grown old together. It is now more than sixty
years since I left Boston; but I remember well both your father and
grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them in
their houses. The last time I saw your father was in the beginning
of 1724, when I visited him after my first trip to Pensylvania. He
received me in his library; and, on my taking leave, showed me a
shorter way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which was
crossed by a beam overhead. We were still talking as I withdrew,
he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards him, when
he said hastily, "Stoop, stoop!" I did not understand him, till I
felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man who never missed any
occasion of giving instruction; and upon this he said to me: "You
are young, and have the world before you: stoop as you go through
it, and you will miss many hard thumps." This advice, thus beat into
my heart, has frequently been of use to me: and I often think of it,
when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by
their carrying their heads too high.
I long much to see again my native place; and once hoped to lay my
bones there. I left it in 1723. I visited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and
1763; and in 1773 I was in England. In 1775 I had a sight of it, but
could not enter, it being in possession of the enemy. I did hope to
have been there in 1783, but could not obtain my dismission from this
employment here; and now I fear I shall never have that happiness. My
best wishes however attend my dear country, "_esto perpetua_." It is
now blessed with an excellent constitution: may it last for ever!
This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the United
States. It is a friendship of the utmost importance to our security,
and should be carefully cultivated. Britain has not yet well digested
the loss of its dominion over us; and has still at times some
flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents may increase those
hopes, and encourage dangerous attempts. A breach between us and
France would infallibly bring the English again upon our backs:
and yet we have some wild beasts among our countrymen, who are
endeavouring to weaken that connection.
Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our engagements; our
credit, by fulfilling our contracts; and our friends, by gratitude
and kindness: for we know not how soon we may again have occasion for
all of them.
With great and sincere esteem,
I have the honour to be,
Reverend Sir,
Your most obedient and most humble servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
_Passy, May 12, 1784._
FOOTNOTE:
[181] From the American Museum, Vol. VII. p. 100. _Editor._
_The Whistle[182]._
_Passy, Nov. 10, 1779._