Who Originally Wrote Wallace D Wattles The Science Of Getting Rich?

I've dug around for this one more times than I can count, and the good news is it's super easy to find because 'The Science of Getting Rich' is in the public domain. My go-to first stop is Project Gutenberg — they usually have clean EPUB and plain text versions you can download for free. If I want a spoken-word commute, LibriVox has volunteer-read audiobook editions, which are great for flipping through ideas while I'm on the subway. If you prefer something with a nicer layout or notes, I sometimes grab a free Kindle edition from Amazon (search for the title + Wattles) or check out Internet Archive and Google Books for scanned historical editions. Local library apps like Libby or Hoopla also pop up with various editions, and they let you borrow EPUB or audiobook files without spending a dime. Just watch for modern reprints that add commentary or change wording — I like to compare a couple of editions to make sure the core text is untouched. Happy reading — it's one of those short books you can chew on slowly or blast through in an afternoon and then keep returning to.

I still pull that little, dog-eared copy of 'The Science of Getting Rich' out whenever I need a reality-check mixed with a pep talk. The reason it matters to me is simple: it teaches a way of thinking that turns scarcity into possibility, not by magic but by method. Wattles insists that getting rich is a science — meaning there are patterns, habits, and consistent actions you can practice. That helped me stop waiting for permission and start experimenting with small, repeatable steps toward goals. His emphasis on thinking in a 'certain way' and combining gratitude with focused action feels earnestly practical. I used to flip through it on late-night commutes, scribbling lines into the margins: the importance of clarity, the refusal to copy others, the idea of creating value instead of stealing it. Those little margins became a to-do list for how I approached projects and collaborations. It's not flawless — some of its language is dated and it glosses over structural barriers — but reading it alongside modern, critical takes turns it into a toolkit rather than dogma. For me, it matters because it rewired how I approach abundance: with intention, discipline, and a habit of creating rather than competing.

Diving into the old self-help stacks, I kept bumping into references to Wallace D. Wattles and his little classic 'The Science of Getting Rich'. It shows up in a couple of clear places: Rhonda Byrne lists Wattles in the bibliography for 'The Secret', and his language and ideas are quoted or paraphrased by people like Bob Proctor during seminars and in his teaching materials. Beyond that, Joe Vitale and other early contributors to the modern ‘‘law of attraction’’ movement have frequently pulled from Wattles’ phrasing — you can hear echoes of his one-idea focus across their work. If you want a neat takeaway: some authors explicitly cite Wattles, some don’t name him but clearly borrow his concepts, and a third group (older New Thought writers like Florence Scovel Shinn or Ernest Holmes) shares the same intellectual soil. That makes Wattles feel less like a lone voice and more like a seed that sprouted into a whole tree of modern self-help and prosperity writing.

Picking up 'The Science of Getting Rich' by Wallace D. Wattles felt like stumbling into a tiny, earnest shrine to possibility. I read it on a rainy afternoon with a mug of tea and a stack of manga beside me, and its brevity surprised me — it's short, punchy, and full of declarative sentences that sound like a coach yelling from the sidelines. Wattles pushes a mindset: think in a certain way, act in a certain way, and the universe will conspire toward wealth. That clarity is refreshing when you’re drowning in endless self-help lists. I also want to be honest about the dated and metaphysical bits. Some of his language is old-fashioned and his emphasis on an almost mystical creative force can feel woo-woo or simplistic. If you’re expecting a modern financial playbook with investment strategies, paychecks-to-passive-income mapping, or tax advice, this isn't it. What I got out of it was a mental reset: treat wealth as something you create rather than chase, and focus on usefulness, clarity of action, and persistence. So is it worth reading? For me, yes — as a short, motivational primer and a historical curiosity that influenced later works like 'Think and Grow Rich' and 'The Secret'. It's best read with a grain of salt and a practical plan beside it. If you like short, punchy manifestos and don’t mind the metaphysical framing, give it a shot and see which lines actually change how you think and act.

The first thing that clicked for me about Wallace D. Wattles' 'The Science of Getting Rich' was how it treats thinking as a habit that can be trained. I started small: a five-minute morning routine where I read a paragraph, jot down one specific opportunity I could act on that day, and say a simple gratitude line. That tiny ritual rewired my focus — instead of doom-scrolling over finances, I looked for practical moves. Habit stacking helped me keep it: I paired the reading with my coffee, so the cue is baked into something I already do. Beyond rituals, the book pushed me to change language and environment. Wattles talks about thinking in a 'certain way' and acting in a 'certain way' — I translated that into daily micro-actions: rewriting my internal script from scarcity to possibility, tracking one tangible step toward income every day, and clearing clutter that reminded me of failure. Over months those daily nudges grew into new automatic behaviors. If you want a tipable habit change, start with tiny, repeatable acts tied to an existing cue and make them enjoyable; the philosophy does the motivating work, the tiny actions create lasting habit change.

On a rainy afternoon, curled up with a mug and a dog snoring at my feet, I flipped through 'The Science of Getting Rich' and caught Wattles' central beat: wealth isn't just piles of money, it's the result of thinking and acting in a certain constructive way. He frames richness as the ability to form and give more useful life to the world — to create value, not fight over fixed slices of pie. That felt more humane to me than the usual hustle-mantra. Wattles insists there's a science to it: you cultivate a creative mindset, practice gratitude, form a clear mental image of what you want, and then take efficient, directed action. He stresses the difference between the competitive mind (scrabbling for crumbs) and the creative mind (producing new substance). For him, wealth is lawful — follow the principles and prosperity follows. Reading it makes me want to write down small daily practices: visualize, be thankful, act decisively — and keep an eye on offering real value rather than just chasing money.

I still get a little buzz whenever I think about how a short, insistent book from 1910 keeps turning up in my favorite reading lists. Having flipped through 'The Science of Getting Rich' by Wallace D. Wattles on a rainy afternoon, I walked away with two big takes: the emphasis on creative contribution and the insistence on deliberate thought. Those two ideas feel timeless—create value, and train your mind to see opportunities instead of obstacles. Practically speaking, I apply Wattles' stuff to modern life by translating his language into things like building useful skills, making genuinely helpful content, and treating marketing as a service rather than manipulation. Gratitude and focused visualization work for me as mental scaffolding; they calm the panic during flaky freelance months. But I also have to be honest: his framework glosses over structural barriers—access to capital, systemic bias—that exist today. So I pair his mindset tools with concrete habits: budgets, networking, learning basic legal/financial literacy, and using tech to scale genuine value. If you treat 'The Science of Getting Rich' as a mindset primer and not a complete roadmap, it still sparks useful shifts. I like to re-read a chapter before planning projects; it's oddly grounding and nudges me to act with intention instead of panic.

I still get a little buzz thinking about how much of my life changed after I first flipped through 'The Science of Getting Rich' on a slow Sunday afternoon. Wattles isn't selling a get-rich-quick scheme — he frames wealth as a kind of science you can learn to practice. The core is that thought shapes reality: you form a clear, definite purpose, hold a grateful and constructive mindset, and visualize the outcome as already yours. That mental image impresses the 'formless substance' and draws opportunities toward you, according to him. He pairs that mental work with consistent, efficient action. You don't just daydream; you act now, do the best work you can at every moment, and provide more value than you take. Wattles also pushes a creative—not competitive—attitude: wealth comes by creating new value, not by grabbing someone else’s share. For me, those ideas nudged me to stop shrinking from big goals, practice gratitude daily, and focus on serving people genuinely rather than chasing scarcity. It changed how I plan projects and how I react to setbacks, making the whole process feel more purposeful and, oddly, more fun.