Poor Richard and his “Almanack” are with us always. We all know that Benjamin Franklin published at Philadelphia an almanac that appeared every year from 1732 to 1758 – or, to put it another way, from Franklin’s 26th through his 52nd year. We are all aware that Franklin filled his almanac, a best-seller of its time, with pithy aphorisms of advice regarding how to live a prudent, industrious, and successful life. And this Peter Pauper Press edition of Poor Richard’s Almanack, widely available at sites like the museum shop of the Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia, provides a quick, fun, accessible way to enjoy the “old sayings” for which Franklin is known and loved.
Using the alias of Richard Saunders or “Poor Richard,” Franklin included in his almanac all the characteristic features that almanac readers of his time would have expected. The cover of his 1739 edition of Poor Richard’s Almanack, for example, tells the reader that the almanac will include “the Lunations, Eclipses, Judgment of the Weather, Spring Tides, Planets’ Motions and Mutual Aspects, Sun and Moon’s Rising and Setting, Length of Days, Time of High Water, Fasts, Courts, and Observable Days.” In a nod to his hometown, Franklin adds that his almanac is “Fitted to the Latitude of Forty Degrees [Philadelphia’s latitude], and a Meridian of Five Hours West from London,” though he helpfully notes, for the benefit of colonial readers up and down the east coast of North America, that his almanac “may, without sensible Error, serve all the adjacent Places, even from Newfoundland to South-Carolina.”
But readers do not turn to Poor Richard’s Almanack today for information about East Coast eclipses, or recipes for a prototype of the cheesesteak, or Delaware River high tides from 300 years ago; they look to it for the “Poor Richard” proverbs. And indeed, it is great fun reading 77 pages' worth of Benjamin Franklin's maxims for industry, thrift, humility, and optimistic good cheer -- proverbs that can be said to have done much to form our collective sense of the American character.
I like this edition of Poor Richard's Almanack, with its old-style typeface (much like what one sees in many of the documents for sale at shops in Colonial Williamsburg), its woodcut illustrations, the durable light-brown paper of the pages; it all does much to give one a nostalgic sense of stepping back into history, walking the streets of 18th-century Philadelphia in Franklin's entertaining company.
The familiar proverbs are all here, and they emphasize well the impact that Franklin had on American and world culture through his almanac. “No gains without pains” (p. 28) has its modern echoes in every gym or health club where the words “No Pain, No Gain” are prominently displayed on one or more of the walls. “God helps them that help themselves” (p. 54) embodies well Franklin’s philosophy of prudent, industrious self-reliance, and would certainly make any list of Poor Richard’s greatest hits. And a characteristically Franklinian warning that ruin always awaits the careless can be found in Poor Richard’s warning that “For want of a Nail, the Shoe is lost; for want of a Shoe, the Horse is lost; for want of a Horse, the Rider is lost” (p. 55).
Where a maxim or poem is accompanied by a red-tinted woodcut, the effect is particularly endearing. One such woodcut shows a pair of young lovers under a tree. A home in the distance, with smoke rising from a chimney, emphasizes the lovers’ isolation. Three birds fly in the sky overhead; a dog sits loyally close by. And Cupid hovers in the sky overhead, with an arrow from his bow pointed directly at the lovers. The accompanying poem reads:
My love and I for kisses play’d,
She would keep stakes, I was content,
But when I won, she would be paid,
This made me ask her what she meant:
Quoth she, since you are in this wrangling vein
Here take your kisses, give me mine again. (p. 25)
The way this little poetic vignette captures the joy of young love made me think of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, a play that the inveterate reader Franklin no doubt knew well – and specifically of the dialogue when these two young people, struck with love at first sight, savour their first kiss:
[Romeo] Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged. [Kisses her.]
[Juliet] Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
[Romeo] Sin from my lips? O, trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again. [Kisses her.]
[Juliet] You kiss by the book.
This volume of sayings from Poor Richard’s Almanack ends with Franklin’s well-known list of Thirteen Virtues: Temperance, Silence, Order, Resolution, Frugality, Industry, Sincerity, Justice, Moderation, Cleanliness, Tranquility, Chastity, and Humility. Readers of Franklin’s Autobiography will remember the gently self-mocking way in which Franklin looks back at his younger self trying to achieve a Program of Moral Perfection. Not all readers have appreciated Franklin’s list of virtues: D.H. Lawrence, for instance, responded to Franklin’s advice that humility-minded readers “Imitate Jesus and Socrates” by dryly adding, “And mind you don’t out-do them!”
It is important always to keep in mind that, when glancing through this fun volume, one is not really reading Poor Richard's Almanack as it was originally published. The original Almanack was, well, an almanac. Like the almanacs of today, Franklin's 1732-58 Almanack contained weather forecasts, legal and medical information, snatches of poetry, inspirational literature, recipes, games -- in short, many of the same things that almanacs contain nowadays. The aphorisms for which Poor Richard is best known nowadays appeared, quite literally, in the margins; the ever-enterprising Franklin squeezed maxims in wherever there was space, and the rest is history.
This edition of Poor Richard's Almanack is introduced by a brief preface that acknowledges Franklin's debts to earlier writers; commentator Paul Leicester Ford reminds the “Courteous Reader” of both what Franklin drew from others and how he created something original in the process:
It is hardly Necessary to state, that Franklin did not originate all the Sayings of Poor Richard. He himself tells us, that they were the “Wisdom of many Ages and Nations.” Any One, familiar with Bacon, Rochefoucauld, and Rabelais, as well as Others, will recognize old Friends in some of these Sayings….Yet, with but few Exceptions, these Maxims and Aphorisms had been filter’d through Franklin’s Brain, and were ting’d with that Mother Wit, which so strongly and individually marks so Much that he said and wrote.
Overall, this is a highly pleasant and enjoyable presentation of Franklin's "Poor Richard" aphorisms, just as long as one does not think one is getting the entirety of Poor Richard's Almanack. "Forewarn'd, forearm'd" (p. 50).
And it seems appropriate here to let Dr. Franklin get the last word, as he bids us farewell in his own inimitable way: “Let no pleasure tempt thee, no profit allure thee, no ambition corrupt thee, no example sway thee, no persuasion move thee, to do any thing which thou knowest to be evil; so shalt thou always live jollily; for a good conscience is a continual Christmas. Adieu” (p. 77).
Now there is good advice indeed, on which we can all agree. Farewell and adieu, Dr. Franklin, and many thanks for the opportunity you have given us to visit with you and Poor Richard.