Your affectionate friend and humble servant,
B. F[RANKLIN].
TO MISS CATHERINE RAY
Philadelphia, Sept. 11, 1755.
Begone, business, for an hour, at least, and let me chat a little with
my Katy.
I have now before me, my dear girl, three of your favours, viz. of March
the 3d, March the 30th, and May the 1st. The first I received just
before I set out on a long journey, and the others while I was on that
journey, which held me near six weeks. Since my return, I have been in
such a perpetual hurry of public affairs of various kinds, as renders it
impracticable for me to keep up my private correspondences, even those
that afforded me the greatest pleasure.
You ask in your last, how I do, and what I am doing, and whether
everybody loves me yet, and why I make them do so.
In regard to the first, I can say, thanks to God, that I do not remember
I was ever better. I still relish all the pleasures of life, that a
temperate man can in reason desire, and through favour I have them all
in my power. This happy situation shall continue as long as God pleases,
who knows what is best for his creatures, and I hope will enable me to
bear with patience and dutiful submission any change he may think fit to
make that is less agreeable. As to the second question, I must confess
(but don't you be jealous), that many more people love me now, than ever
did before; for since I saw you I have been enabled to do some general
services to the country, and to the army, for which both have thanked
and praised me, and say they love me. They say so, as you used to do;
and if I were to ask any favours of them, they would, perhaps, as
readily refuse me; so that I find little real advantage in being
beloved, but it pleases my humour.
Now it is near four months since I have been favoured with a single line
from you; but I will not be angry with you, because it is my fault. I
ran in debt to you three or four letters; and as I did not pay, you
would not trust me any more, and you had some reason. But, believe me, I
am honest; and, tho' I should never make equal returns, you shall see I
will keep fair accounts. Equal returns I can never make, tho' I should
write to you by every post; for the pleasure I receive from one of yours
is more than you can have from two of mine. The small news, the domestic
occurrences among our friends, the natural pictures you draw of persons,
the sensible observations and reflections you make, and the easy, chatty
manner in which you express every thing, all contribute to heighten the
pleasure; and the more as they remind me of those hours and miles, that
we talked away so agreeably, even in a winter journey, a wrong road, and
a soaking shower.
I long to hear whether you have continued ever since in that monastery
[Block Island]; or have broke into the world again, doing pretty
mischief; how the lady Wards do, and how many of them are married, or
about it; what is become of Mr. B-- and Mr. L--, and what the state of
your heart is at this instant? But that, perhaps, I ought not to know;
and, therefore, I will not conjure, as you sometimes say I do. If I
could conjure, it should be to know what was that _oddest question about
me that ever was thought of_, which you tell me a lady had just sent to
ask you.
I commend your prudent resolutions, in the article of granting favours
to lovers. But, if I were courting you, I could not hardly approve such
conduct. I should even be malicious enough to say you were too
_knowing_, and tell you the old story of the Girl and the Miller. I
enclose you the songs you write for, and with them your Spanish letter
with a translation. I honour that honest Spaniard for loving you. It
showed the goodness of his taste and judgement. But you must forget him,
and bless some worthy young Englishman.
You have spun a long thread, five thousand and twenty-two yards. It
will reach almost from Rhode Island hither. I wish I had hold of one end
of it, to pull you to me. But you would break it rather than come. The
cords of love and friendship are longer and stronger, and in times past
have drawn me farther; even back from England to Philadelphia. I guess
that some of the same kind will one day draw you out of that Island.
I was extremely pleased with the turf you sent me. The Irish people, who
have seen it, say it is the right sort; but I cannot learn that we have
any thing like it here. The cheeses, particularly one of them, were
excellent. All our friends have tasted it, and all agree that it exceeds
any English cheese they ever tasted. Mrs. Franklin was very proud, that
a young lady should have so much regard for her old husband, as to send
him such a present. We talk of you every time it comes to table. She is
sure you are a sensible girl, and a notable housewife, and talks of
bequeathing me to you as a legacy; but I ought to wish you a better, and
hope she will live these hundred years; for we are grown old together,
and if she has any faults, I am so used to 'em that I don't perceive
'em; as the song says,
"Some faults we have all, and so has my Joan,
But then they're exceedingly small;
And, now I am used, they are like my own,
I scarcely can see 'em at all,
My dear friends,
I scarcely can see 'em at all."
Indeed, I begin to think she has none, as I think of you. And since she
is willing I should love you, as much as you are willing to be loved by
me, let us join in wishing the old lady a long life and a happy.
With her respectful compliments to you, to your good mother and sisters,
present mine, though unknown; and believe me to be, dear girl, your
affectionate friend and humble servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. Sally[49] says, "Papa, my love to Miss Katy."--If it was not quite
unreasonable, I should desire you to write to me every post, whether you
hear from me or not. As to your spelling, don't let those laughing
girls put you out of conceit with it. It is the best in the world, for
every letter of it stands for something.
TO MISS CATHERINE RAY
Philadelphia, Oct. 16, 1755.
DEAR KATY
Your Favour of the 28th of June came to hand but the 28th of September,
just 3 Months after it was written. I had, two Weeks before, wrote you a
long Chat, and sent it to the Care of your Brother Ward. I hear you are
now in Boston, gay and lovely as usual. Let me give you some fatherly
Advice. Kill no more Pigeons than you can eat--Be a good Girl and dont
forget your Catechism.--Go constantly to Meeting--or church--till you
get a good Husband,--then stay at home, & nurse the Children, and live
like a Christian--Spend your spare Hours, in sober Whisk, Prayers, or
learning to cypher--You must practise _addition_ to your Husband's
Estate, by Industry and Frugality; _subtraction_ of all unnecessary
Expenses; _Multiplication_ (I would gladly have taught you that myself,
but you thought it was time enough, & wou'dn't learn) he will soon make
you a Mistress of it. As to _Division_, I say with Brother Paul, _Let
there be no Division among ye_. But as your good Sister Hubbard (my love
to her) is well acquainted with _The Rule of Two_, I hope you will
become an expert in the _Rule of Three_; that when I have again the
pleasure of seeing you, I may find you like my Grape Vine, surrounded
with Clusters, plump, juicy, blushing, pretty little rogues, like their
Mama. Adieu. The Bell rings, and I must go among the Grave ones, and
talk Politicks.
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.
TO MRS. JANE MECOM
Philadelphia, February 12, 1756.
DEAR SISTER,
I condole with you on the loss of our dear brother.[50] As our number
grows less, let us love one another proportionably more.
I am just returned from my military expedition, and now my time is taken
up in the Assembly. Providence seems to require various duties of me. I
know not what will be next; but I find, the more I seek for leisure and
retirement from business, the more I am engaged in it. Benny, I
understand, inclines to leave Antigua. He may be in the right. I have no
objections. My love to brother and to your children. I am, dearest
sister, your affectionate brother,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS E. HUBBARD[51]
Philadelphia, February 23, 1756.
--I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation.
But it is the will of God and nature, that these mortal bodies be laid
aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an
embryo state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born
until he be dead. Why then should we grieve, that a new child is born
among the immortals, a new member added to their happy society?
We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford us
pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or in doing good to our
fellow creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become
unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure,
instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of the
intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent,
that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that
way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A
mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, we willingly cut off.
He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes
with it; and he, who quits the whole body, parts at once with all pains
and possibilities of pains and diseases which it was liable to, or
capable of making him suffer.
Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure, which is
to last for ever. His chair was ready first, and he is gone before us.
We could not all conveniently start together; and why should you and I
be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find
him?
Adieu. B. FRANKLIN.
TO REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD
New York, July 2, 1756.
DEAR SIR:
I received your Favour of the 24th of February with great Pleasure, as
it inform'd me of your Welfare, and express'd your continu'd Regard for
me. I thank you for the Pamphlet you enclos'd to me. As we had just
observ'd a Provincial Fast on the same Occasion, I thought it very
seasonable to be publish'd in Pennsylvania, and accordingly reprinted it
immediately.
You mention your frequent wish that you were a Chaplain to an American
Army. I sometimes wish that you and I were jointly employ'd by the
Crown, to settle a Colony on the Ohio. I imagine we could do it
effectually, and without putting the Nation to much expence. But I fear
we shall never be called upon for such a Service. What a glorious Thing
it would be, to settle in that fine Country a large strong Body of
Religious and Industrious People! What a Security to the other Colonies;
and Advantage to Britain, by Increasing her People, Territory, Strength
and Commerce. Might it not greatly facilitate the Introduction of pure
Religion among the Heathen, if we could, by such a Colony, show them a
better Sample of Christians than they commonly see in our Indian
Traders, the most vicious and abandoned Wretches of our Nation?... Life,
like a dramatic Piece, should not only be conducted with Regularity, but
methinks it should finish handsomely. Being now in the last Act, I
begin to cast about for something fit to end with. Or if mine be more
properly compar'd to an Epigram, as some of its few Lines are but barely
tolerable, I am very desirous of concluding with a bright Point. In such
an Enterprise I could spend the Remainder of Life with Pleasure; and I
firmly believe God would bless us with Success, if we undertook it with
a sincere Regard to his Honour, the Service of our gracious King, and
(which is the same thing) the Publick Good.
I thank you cordially for your generous Benefaction to the German
School. They go on pretty well, and will do better, when Mr. Smith,[52]
who has at present the principal Care of them, shall learn to mind
Party-writing and Party Politicks less, and his proper Business more;
which I hope time will bring about.
I thank you for your good Wishes and Prayers, and am, with the greatest
Esteem and Affection, Dear Sir
Your most obedient humble Servant
My best Respects to } B. FRANKLIN.
Mrs. Whitefield }
THE WAY TO WEALTH
Preface to _Poor Richard Improved_: 1758.[53]
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 tho' I have been, if I may say it without
Vanity, an _eminent Author_ of Almanacks 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 on't; 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 stopt 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 call'd 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 ever be able to pay them? What
would you advise us to?_----Father _Abraham_ stood up, and reply'd, 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 join'd in desiring him to speak his Mind, and gathering
round him, he proceeded as follows;
"Friends, says he, and Neighbours, 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
Almanack 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 Labour 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 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 Honour_; 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 or the Constable enter, for _Industry pays Debts,
while Despair encreaseth 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 To-day, for you know not how much you may be hindered
To-morrow, which makes _Poor Richard_ say, _One To-day is
worth two To-morrows_; and farther, _Have you somewhat to do
To-morrow, do it To-day_. 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 Almanack, 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 Labour? No, for as
_Poor Richard_ says, _Trouble springs from Idleness, and
grievous Toil from needless Ease_. _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'll follow you_. _The diligent Spinner has
a large Shift_; and _now I have a Sheep and a Cow, every Body
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 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 others Care
is the Ruin of many; for, as the _Almanack_ 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 Almanack,
_think of Saving as well as of Getting_: _The_ Indies _have
not made_ pain _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 _Expences_; _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_.