Fertilizer does no good in a heap, but a little spread around

Hear these words, rich in truth and sown with humor, spoken by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, a man of wit and wisdom: “Fertilizer does no good in a heap, but a little spread around works miracles all over.” Though he was a playwright and politician of the eighteenth century, this saying of his reaches beyond the theatre and parliament into the very soil of human nature. For it teaches that the power of good — whether of wealth, wisdom, kindness, or effort — lies not in its hoarding, but in its sharing. A heap serves no one. But when scattered, when given freely, it brings forth abundance and renewal across the earth.

Sheridan, with his keen eye for human folly, saw that men often hoard their blessings, thinking them safer kept than shared. Yet the earth itself reveals the opposite truth. The farmer who piles fertilizer in one mound lets it rot and fester, but the one who scatters it over his fields awakens life. In like manner, the wealth of a miser stagnates, the talent of a selfish man withers, and the wisdom of the proud grows stale in silence. But generosity, like well-spread seed, multiplies in ways unseen. The law of the soil and the law of the soul are one — both demand distribution, not accumulation.

In the annals of time, consider the story of Andrew Carnegie, born poor in Scotland, who became one of the richest men of his age. He understood, as Sheridan did, that riches piled high in one place are dead weight, but riches spread wisely across the world can fertilize the future. And so he gave his wealth to build libraries, schools, and foundations — seeds of knowledge that continue to bear fruit long after his death. Had he hoarded his gold, it would have turned to dust. But in giving it, he turned dust into light. Thus is the alchemy of generosity: what is divided becomes multiplied.

The miracle, Sheridan tells us, is not in the fertilizer itself, but in the act of spreading it. For even a small amount, wisely placed, can transform the barren into the bountiful. A kind word to the weary, a coin to the poor, a moment of patience to the angry — these are not grand gestures, but they work miracles of the heart. Like the sower in the old parable, you do not know which seed will take root. But scatter them freely, and in time, the desert will bloom.

There is also in these words a warning against idleness and concentration of power. To heap all good in one place — wealth in one hand, knowledge in one mind, virtue in one heart — is to create imbalance. Nature herself teaches equilibrium: the rivers flow, the wind moves, the sunlight spreads. Nothing hoards. Everything circulates. The universe sustains itself through this ceaseless motion of giving and receiving. When man imitates this divine law, his life, too, becomes fertile.

Sheridan’s humor carried truth, for he saw that even the smallest act can have vast consequence if rightly placed. The heap may look impressive, but it is useless until broken and dispersed. So, too, with our time, our love, and our labor. The wise do not wait to perform great deeds; they perform small ones everywhere. They do not build a mountain of charity; they sow kindness in every furrow of life. It is this humble scattering — this spreading of light and care — that works miracles where pride and grandeur cannot.

Thus, the lesson of Sheridan’s words is both simple and eternal: do not hoard your gifts, for they decay in idleness. Give what you have — your knowledge, your joy, your compassion — to those around you. Even the smallest portion, when shared with sincerity, has the power to transform lives unseen. The gardener who feeds one corner of the earth feeds the whole world in spirit, for every act of giving enriches the greater soil of humanity.

So, dear listener, remember: the good you possess is not meant for the heap but for the harvest. Scatter it like seed; spread it like sunlight. Trust that the miracles will come, though you may not see them. For the world does not bloom because of what we keep — it blooms because of what we give.