I stopped my horse lately, where a great number of people were collected at an Auction of Merchant Goods. The hour of sale net being come, they were conversing on the badness of the times, and one of the company called 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 over be able to pay them? What would you advise us to de?” Father Abraham stood up and replied— “If you’d have my advice, I’ll give it to you in short: ‘for a word to the wise is enough; and many words won't fill a bushel,’ as poor Richard says.” They joined in desiring him to speak his mind; and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows:—
Friends, says he, and neighbeurs, 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 commissioner cannot ease or deliver us by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done fer us:
“God helps them that helps themselves”
as poer Richard says in his Almanack.
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 mere, if we reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of nething, with
