5 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 10 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 knick knacks. You 15 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 20 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 25 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 out money in a purchase of repentance; and yet this folly is practised every day at vendues for want of minding the Almanac. 35 Wise men, as Poor Dick says, learn by others' harms, fools scarcely by their own; but Felix quem facirent aliena pericula cautum. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back have gone with a hun- 40 gry belly, and half-starved their families. Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, as Poor Richard says, put out the kitchen fire. 30 These are not the necessaries of life; 45 they can scarcely be called the conveniences; 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; 50 and as Poor Dick says, For one poor person there are an hundred indigent. By these and other extravagances the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formery despised, 55 but who, through industry and frugality, have maintained their standing; in which case it appears plainly that, A plowman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse; What is a butterfly? At best 'But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities! We are offered by the terms of this vendue six months' credit; and that, perhaps, has induced some of us to attend it, because we 5 cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine without it. But ah, think what you do when you run in debt; you give to another power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor; you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for, as 10 Poor Richard says, The second vice is lying, the first is running in debt. And again to the same purpose, Lying rides upon debt's back; whereas a freeborn Englishman ought not to be ashamed or 15 afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. 'Tis hard for an empty bag to stand upright, as Poor Richard truly says. 20 25 'What would you think of that prince, or that government, who should issue an edict forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or a gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? Would you not say that you are free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges and such a government tyrannical? And yet you are about to put yourself under that 30 tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress. Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty by confining you in jail for life, or to sell you for a servant, if you should not be able to 35 pay him. When you have got your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment! But, Creditors, Poor Richard tells us, have better memories than debtors; and in another place says, Creditors are a 40 superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times. The day comes round before you are aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it; or, if you bear your debt in mind, the 45 term, which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as shoulders. Those have a short Lent, saith Poor Richard, who owe 50 money to be paid at Easter. Then, since as he says, The borrower is slave to the lender, and the debtor to the creditor, disdain the chain, preserve your freedom; and maintain your independency; be in- 55 dustrious and free; be frugal and free. At present, perhaps you may think yourself in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury; but For age and want save while you may; as Poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever, while you live, expense is constant and certain; and, Tis 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, as Poor Richard says. And when you have got the philosopher's stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times or 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, though excellent things; for they may all be blasted, without the blessing of Heaven; and, therefore, ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember Job suffered, and was afterward prosperous. And now, to conclude, Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that; for, it is true, We may give advice, but we cannot give conduct, as Poor Richard says. However, remember this: They that won't be counseled can't be helped, as Poor Richard says; and farther that, If you will not hear Reason, she'll surely rap your knuckles.' 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 vendue opened and they began to buy extravagantly notwithstanding his cautions, and their own fear of taxes. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on these topics during the course of five-andtwenty 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 5 upon his name; for I have made to myself a God, which abideth alway 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 10 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 15 face, into the wilderness. 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. 20 2. And behold a man, bowed with age, coming 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, 25 and wash thy feet, and tarry all night, and thou shalt arise early in the morning and go on thy way. 4. But the man said, Nay, for I will abide under this tree. 5. And Abraham pressed him greatly; so he turned and they went into the tent: and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat. II. And God said, Have I not borne 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 he arose, and went forth into the wilderness, and sought diligently for the man, and found him; 14. And returned with him to his tent: 30 and when he had entreated him kindly, he sent him away in the morning with gifts. 6. And when Abraham saw that the 35 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 thy God, neither do I call 40 15. And God spake again unto Abraham, saying, For this thy sin shall thy seed be afflicted four hundred years in a strange land. 16. But for thy repentance will I deliver them; and they shall come forth with power, and with gladness of heart, and with much substance. (Summer of 1763) : GEORGE WASHINGTON (1732-1799) Though George Washington cannot be rated as a man of letters in the sense that Irving or Longfellow were men of letters, yet his literary remains,' as collected by Jared Sparks, fill twelve volumes. Like Lincoln and like Grant, he wrote with distinction and with compelling power because he had something vital to say. There is a stately eighteenth century ring to his prose, even to the most trivial of it. All that he wrote was deeply serious and it is worthy in every way of the Great Man whom all generations in America will know as the Father of his Country. The Farewell Address is one of the classics that should be a part of the early education of every American. WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES FRIENDS AND FELLOW-CITIZENS: The period for a new election of a citizen, to administer the executive government of the United States, being not far distant, and the time actually arrived, when your thoughts must be employed in designating the person, who is to be clothed with that important trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may conduce to a more distinct expression of the public voice, that I should now ap- 15 prise you of the resolution I have formed, to decline being considered among the number of those, out of whom a choice is to be made. I beg you, at the same time, to do me 20 the justice to be assured, that this resolution has not been taken without a strict regard to all the considerations appertaining to the relation, which binds a dutiful citizen to his country; and that, in with- 25 drawing the tender of service, which silence in my situation might imply, I am influenced by no diminution of zeal for your future interest; no deficiency of grateful respect for your past kindness; 30 but am supported by a full conviction that the step is compatible with both. with motives, which I was not at liberty to disregard, to return to that retirement, from which I had been reluctantly drawn. The strength of my inclination to do this, 5 previous to the last election, had even led to the preparation of an address to declare it to you; but mature reflection on the then perplexed and critical posture of our affairs with foreign nations, and the unanimous advice of persons entitled to my confidence, impelled me to abandon the idea. I rejoice, that the state of your concerns, external as well as internal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclination incompatible with the sentiment of duty, or propriety; and am persuaded, whatever partiality may be retained for my services, that, in the present circumstances of our country, you will not disapprove my determination to retire. The impressions, with which I first undertook the arduous trust, were explained on the proper occasion. In the discharge of the trust, I will only say, that I have, with good intentions, contributed towards the organization and administration of the government the best exertions of which a very fallible judgment was capable. Not, unconscious, in the outset, of the inferiority of my qualifications, experience in my own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, has strengthened the motives to diffidence of myself; and every day the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more, that the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will be welcome. Satisfied, that, if any circumstances have given peculiar value to my The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in, the office to which your suffrages have twice called me, have been a 35 uniform sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a deference for what appeared to be your desire. I constantly hoped, that it would have been much earlier in my power, consistently 40 services, they were temporary, I have the consolation to believe, that, while choice and prudence invite me to quit the political scene, patriotism does not forbid it. portant to the permanency of your felicity as a People. These will be offered to you with the more freedom, as you can only see in them the disinterested warnings of 5 a parting friend, who can possibly have no personal motive to bias his counsel. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement to it, your indulgent reception of my sentiments on a former and not dissimilar occasion. In looking forward to the moment, which is intended to terminate the career of my public life, my feelings do not permit me to suspend the deep acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude, which I owe to my beloved country for the many honors it has conferred upon me; still 10 more for the steadfast confidence with which it has supported me; and for the opportunities I have thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment, by services faithful and persevering, though 15 in usefulness unequal to my zeal. If benefits have resulted to our country from these services, let it always be remembered to your praise, and as an instructive example in our annals, that under circum- 20 stances in which the passions, agitated in every direction, were liable to mislead, amidst appearances sometimes dubious, vicissitudes of fortune often discouraging, in situations in which not unfrequently 25 want of success has countenanced the spirit of criticism, the constancy of your support was the essential prop of the efforts, and a guarantee of the plans by which they were effected. Profoundly 30 penetrated with this idea, I shall carry it with me to my grave, as a strong incitement to unceasing vows that Heaven may continue to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence; that your union and brotherly affection may be perpetual; that the free constitution, which is the work of your hands, may be sacredly maintained; that its administration in every department may be stamped with wisdom and virtue; 40 that, in fine, the happiness of the people of these States, under the auspices of liberty, may be made complete, by so careful a preservation and so prudent a use of this blessing, as will acquire to them the 45 glory of recommending it to the applause, the affection, and adoption of every nation, which is yet a stranger to it. Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify or confirm the attachment. The unity of Government, which constitutes you one people, is also now dear to you. It is justly so; for it is a main pillar in the edifice of your real independence, the support of your tranquillity at home, your peace abroad; of your safety; of your prosperity; of that very Liberty, which you so highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee, that, from different causes and from different quarters, much pains will be taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth; as this is the point in your political fortress against which the batteries of internal and external enemies will be most constantly and actively (though often covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment, that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national Union to your collective and individual happiness; that you should cherish 35 a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the Palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion, that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts. Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But a solicitude for your welfare, which cannot 50 end but with my life, and the apprehension of danger, natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occasion like the present, to offer to your solemn contemplation, and to recommend to your frequent review, 55 some sentiments, which are the result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable observation, and which appear to me all-im For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common country, that country has a right to concentrate your affections. The name of AMERICAN, which belongs to you, in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of Patriotism, more than any appellation derived from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, manners, habits, and political |