1779
THE
WHISTLE
by
Benjamin Franklin
I AM
charmed with your description of Paradise,
and with your plan of living there; and I approve much
of your conclusion, that,
in the mean time, we should draw all the good we can
from this world. In my opinion, we might all
draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care
not to give too much for whistles. For to me it seems that most of the unhappy
people we meet with are become so by neglect of that caution.
You ask what I mean? You love stories, and
will excuse my telling one of myself.
When I was a child of seven years old, my
friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers.
I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for children, and being charmed
with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy,
I voluntarily offered and gave all my money for one. I then came home, and went
whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all
the family. My, brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain I
had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth; put me
in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of the money; and
laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation; and the reflection
gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure.
This, however, was afterward of use to me,
the impression continuing on my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to buy
some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, Don't give too much for the whistle;
and I saved my money.
As I
grew up, came into the world, and observed the
actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who gave too much for the
whistle.
When I saw one too ambitious
of court favor, sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his
liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to
myself, This man gives too much for his whistle.
When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in political bustles,
neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect, He pays indeed,
said I, too much for his whistle.
If I knew a miser, who gave up every, kind of
comfortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth, Poor man, said I, you pay too
much for your whistle.
When I met with a man of pleasure,
sacrificing every laudable improvement of the
mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal sensations, and ruining his health
in their pursuit, Mistaken man, said I, you are providing pain for yourself,
instead of pleasure; you give too much for your whistle.
If I see one fond of appearance, or fine
clothes, fine houses, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts
debts, and ends his career in a prison, Alas! say I, he has paid dear, very
dear, for his whistle.
When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl
married to an ill- natured brute of a husband, What a pity, say I, that she
should pay so much for a whistle.
In short, I conceive
that great part of the miseries of mankind are brought upon them by the false
estimates they have made of the value of things, and by their giving too much
for their whistles.
Yet I ought to have charity for these unhappy
people, when I consider that, with all this wisdom of which I am boasting,
there are certain things in the world so tempting, for example, the apples of
King John, which happily are not to be bought; for if they were put to sale by
auction, I might very easily be led to ruin myself in the purchase, and find
that I had once more given too much for the whistle.