1758 2026
This is an AI modernization of The Way to Wealth into contemporary English. The original is available from Project Gutenberg. Also available as an epub.
Benjamin Franklin published Poor Richard's Almanack every year from 1733 to 1758, under the name Richard Saunders. An almanac was a calendar with weather predictions, tide tables, sunrise times and the phases of the moon, and it was the one book a colonial household bought every year. Franklin filled the empty space around the dates with proverbs about work, money, debt and time. That is where early to bed and early to rise comes from, and the sleeping fox, and no gains without pains.
This is the preface he wrote for the last of those almanacs, in 1758. Instead of the usual note to the reader, he went back through twenty-five years of his own margins, picked out the best of the sayings, and put every one of them into a single speech. Richard Saunders stops his horse at a crowd waiting for an auction of merchants' goods. They are complaining about the times and about how heavy the taxes are, and one of them asks an old man with white hair what he makes of it. The old man, Father Abraham, answers at length, and every second sentence ends with the words as Poor Richard says. That refrain is the joke and it is kept here exactly, all the way through.
The proverbs themselves are mostly not Franklin's inventions. He took them from earlier English and European collections, from the Bible, and from common speech, and then cut them shorter and made them land. His versions are the ones people still say, which is what the editing was for. They are kept here in their familiar wording, with nothing paraphrased away.
The piece runs to a few thousand words and it is the most reprinted thing Franklin ever wrote. It was pulled straight back out of the almanac and printed on its own, as a pamphlet and as a broadside, on both sides of the Atlantic and then in translation. Later books about getting ahead by working hard and spending little are mostly working the same ground.
One warning, because it changes what the thing is. The speech is not the whole piece. Richard Saunders is standing there listening, and at the end he reports what the crowd did once Father Abraham stopped talking. Do not skip the last paragraph, and do not read it first.
Franklin's Autobiography, which describes how the almanac started and how much it earned him, is in this collection as a separate volume, as is Cato's Letters, the newspaper series he was reprinting in Boston at sixteen.
Courteous reader,
I have heard that nothing gives an author more pleasure than finding his work respectfully quoted by others. Judge, then, how gratified I must have been by the little incident I'm about to relate. Not long ago I stopped my horse where a large crowd had gathered for an auction of merchants' goods. The hour of the sale hadn't yet arrived, so people were passing the time talking about how bad things were, and one of them called out to a plain, tidy old man with white hair: "Pray, Father Abraham, what do you think of the times? Won't these heavy taxes flat-out ruin the country? How will we ever manage to pay them? What would you advise us to do?" Father Abraham stood up and replied: "If you want my advice, I'll give it to you in short, for 'a word to the wise is enough,' as Poor Richard says." They all urged him to speak his mind, and, gathering around him, he went on as follows:
"Friends," he said, "the taxes are indeed very heavy, and if the ones laid on by the government were the only taxes we had to pay, we might settle them easily enough. But we have many others, and far more painful for 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 those taxes the commissioners cannot ease us or grant us any discount. Still, let us listen to good advice, and something may be done for us; 'God helps those who help themselves,' as Poor Richard says.
"We would call it a hard government that taxed its people one-tenth of their time to labor in its service. Yet idleness taxes many of us far more than that; laziness, by bringing on disease, absolutely shortens life.
"'Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears, while the used key is always bright,' as Poor Richard says. 'But do you love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of,' as Poor Richard says. How much more sleep do we take than we need! We forget that 'The sleeping fox catches no poultry,' and that 'there will be sleeping enough in the grave,' as Poor Richard says.
"If time is the most precious of all things, then wasting time must be, as Poor Richard says, 'the greatest prodigality,' since, as he tells us elsewhere, 'Lost time is never found again; and what we call time enough always proves little enough.' Let us then be up and doing, and doing to some purpose; with diligence we'll accomplish more with less trouble. 'Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy; and he that rises late must trot all day, and shall scarcely overtake his business at night; while laziness travels so slowly that poverty soon overtakes him. Drive your business — don't let it drive you; and early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,' as Poor Richard says.
"So what good is wishing and hoping for better times? We can make these times better, if we get moving. 'Industry need not wish, 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 do, they're sharply taxed. 'He that has a trade has an estate; and he that has a calling has an office of profit and honor,' as Poor Richard says. 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 will never starve; for '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 increases them.' So what if you've found no treasure, and no rich relation has left you a fortune? 'Diligence is the mother of good luck, and God gives all things to industry. Then plow deep, while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep.' Work while it is called today, for you don't know how much you may be hindered tomorrow. 'One today is worth two tomorrows,' as Poor Richard says; and further, 'Never leave that till tomorrow which you can do today.' If you were a servant, wouldn't you be ashamed to have a good master catch you idle? Well then — you are your own master: be ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your country, and your king. Handle your tools without mittens; remember, 'The cat in gloves catches no mice,' as Poor Richard says. It's true there is much to be done, and perhaps your hands are weak; 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 through the cable; and little strokes fell great oaks.'
"I think I hear some of you saying, 'Must a man allow himself no leisure?' I will tell you, my friend, what Poor Richard says: 'Employ your time well, if you mean to gain leisure; and since you are not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour.' Leisure is time for doing something useful; the diligent man will earn that kind of leisure, but the lazy man never will. For 'A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two different things. Many, without labor, would live by their wits only, but they break for want of stock' — whereas industry brings comfort, and plenty, and respect. 'Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent spinner has a large shift; and now I have a sheep and a cow, everybody bids me good morrow.'
"But along with our industry we must also be steady, settled, and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, not trusting 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 moves are as bad as a fire'; and again, 'Keep your shop, and your shop will keep you'; and again, 'If you would have your business done, go; if not, send.' And again,
"'He that by the plow would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive.'
"And again, 'The eye of the 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, 'In the affairs of this world, men are saved not by faith, but by the lack of it.' But a man's own care pays off; 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' — overtaken and slain by the enemy, all for want of a little care about a horseshoe nail.
"So much for industry, my friends, and for minding one's own business. But to these we must add frugality, if we want our industry to succeed more surely. A man who doesn't know how to save as he earns may 'keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, 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 have less cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and costly families; for,
"'Women and wine, game and deceit, Make the wealth small, and the want great.'
"And further, 'What maintains one vice would bring up two children.' You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, food 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 all are, gathered at this sale of fineries and knick-knacks. You call them goods; but if you're not careful, they will prove evils to some of you. You expect them to be sold cheap, and perhaps they will be — for less than they cost. But if you have no real need for them, they must be dear to you. Remember what Poor Richard says: 'Buy what you have no need of, and before long you shall sell your necessaries.' And again, 'At a great pennyworth, pause a while.' He means that perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real; or that the bargain, by pinching you in your business, may do you more harm than good. For in another place he says, 'Many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths.' Again, 'It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance' — and yet this folly is practiced every day at auctions, for want of minding the Almanack. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, has gone with a hungry belly, and half-starved his family; 'Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire,' as Poor Richard says. These are not the necessities of life; they can scarcely be called the conveniences — and yet, only because they look pretty, how many people want to have them! By these and other extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow from those they once looked down on — people who, through industry and frugality, have kept their standing. In which case it appears plainly that 'A plowman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees,' as Poor Richard says. Perhaps they have inherited a small estate, and never knew the earning of it; they think 'it is day, and it will never be night' — that a little 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.' They might have known it beforehand, 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 the man who lends to such people, when he goes to collect it again. Poor Dick further 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 fine thing, you must buy ten more, so that your whole appearance may be all of a piece; but Poor Dick says, 'It is easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it.' And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich as for the frog to puff itself up to equal the ox.
"'Vessels large may venture more, But little boats should keep near shore.'
"It is, however, a folly soon punished; for, as Poor Richard says, 'Pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt. Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined with Poverty, and supped with Infamy.' And after all, what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, so much is suffered? It cannot promote health, nor ease pain; it adds no merit to the person; it creates envy; it hastens misfortune.
"But what madness it must be to run into debt for these superfluities! The terms of this sale offer us six months' credit, and perhaps that is what has drawn some of us here — we cannot spare the ready money, and hope to be fine without it. But oh — think what you do when you run into debt: you give another person power over your liberty. If you cannot pay on time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor; you will be afraid when you speak to him; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and little by little lose your honesty and sink into base, downright lying; for, 'The second vice is lying, the first is running in debt,' as Poor Richard says; and again, to the same purpose, 'Lying rides upon Debt's back' — whereas a free-born Englishman ought never to be ashamed or afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often strips a man of all spirit and virtue. 'It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright.' What would you think of a prince, or a government, that issued an edict forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? Wouldn't you say that you were free, that you have a right to dress as you please, that such an edict was a breach of your privileges, and such a government tyrannical? And yet you are about to put yourself under exactly that tyranny when you run into debt for such clothes! Your creditor has the authority, at his pleasure, to take away your liberty — to shut you in jail for life, or to sell you as a servant, if you cannot pay him. When you have got your bargain, you may perhaps think little of payment; but, as Poor Richard says, 'Creditors have better memories than debtors; creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times.' The day comes around before you are aware of it, and the demand is made before you are prepared to meet it. Or, if you do keep your debt in mind, the term that seemed so long at first will, as it shrinks, seem extremely short: 'Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. Those have a short Lent, who owe money to be paid at Easter.' At present, perhaps, you think yourselves in thriving circumstances, and able to bear a little extravagance without injury; but
"'For age and want save while you may; No morning sun lasts a whole day.'
"Gain may be temporary and uncertain; but expense, as long as you live, is constant and certain; and 'It is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in fuel,' as Poor Richard says. So, 'Rather go to bed supperless than rise in debt.'
"'Get what you can, and what you get, hold: 'Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold.'
"And when you have got the Philosopher's stone, you will surely no longer complain of bad times, or of the difficulty of paying taxes.
"This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom. But after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence — excellent things though they are — for they may all be blasted without the blessing of Heaven. So ask that blessing humbly, and do not be unkind to those who at present seem to lack it, but comfort and help them. Remember, Job suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.
"And now, to conclude: 'Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other,' as Poor Richard says — and scarcely in that one; for it is true, 'We may give advice, but we cannot give conduct.' However, remember this: 'They that will not be counselled cannot be helped'; and further, 'If you will not hear Reason, she will surely rap your knuckles,' as Poor Richard says."
* * * * *
And so the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine — and immediately practiced the contrary, just as if it had been an ordinary sermon; for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly. I could see that the good man had thoroughly studied my Almanacks, and had digested everything I had dropped on those topics over the course of twenty-five years. Anyone else would have been worn out by how often he mentioned me; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted by it, even though I was well aware that not a tenth part of the wisdom he credited to me was actually my own — it was rather the gleanings I had made from the good sense of all ages and nations. Still, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and though I had at first been determined to buy cloth for a new coat, I went away resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if you will do the same, your profit will be as great as mine. I am, as ever, yours to serve you,
RICHARD SAUNDERS.