THE CULTIVATOR. 
162 
{ So what signifies wishing and hoping for better 
times? We may make these times better, if we bestir 
ourselves. “Industry need not wish, and he that lives 
upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains with¬ 
out pains ; then help hands, for I have no lands,” or, if 
I have, they are smartly taxed. “ He, that hath a trade, 
hath an estate ; and, he that hath a calling, hath an office 
of profit and honor,” as poor Richard says ; but then the 
trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, 
or neither the estate nor the office will enable to us pay 
our taxes. If we are industrious, we shall never starve; 
for, “ at the working man’s house, hunger looks in, but 
dares not enter.” Nor will the bailiff or the constable 
enter, for “industry pays debts, while despair in- 
creaseth them.” What though you have found no trea¬ 
sure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy, “ dili¬ 
gence is the mother of good luck, and God gives all 
things to industry. Then plough deep, while sluggards 
sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep.”— 
Work while it is called to-day, for you know not how 
much you may be hindered to-morrow. “ One to-day is 
worth two to-morrows,” as poor Richard says ; and far¬ 
ther, “ never leave that till to-morrow, which you can 
do to-day.” If you were a servant, would you not be 
ashamed that a good master should catch you idle? Are 
you then your own master? Be ashamed to catch your¬ 
self idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, 
your family, your country, and your king. Handle your 
tools without mittens; remember, that “the cat in 
gloves catches no mice,” as poor Richard says. It is 
true, there is much to be done, and perhaps you are 
weak-handed; but stick to it steadily, and you will see 
great effects, for “ constant dropping wears away stones; 
and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the 
cable; and little strokes fell great oaks.” 
‘ Methinks I hear some of you say, “ must a man af¬ 
ford himself no leisure?” I will tell thee, my friend, 
what poor Richard says; “employ thy time well, if 
thou meanest to gain leisure; and since thou are not 
sure of a minute, throw not away an hour.” Leisure 
is time for doing some thing useful; this leisure the dili¬ 
gent man will obtain, but the lazy man never; for “ a 
life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things.— 
Many, without labor, would live by their wits only, but 
they break for want of stock ;” whereas industry gives 
comfort, and plenty, and respect. “ Fly pleasures, and 
they will follow you. The diligent spinner has a large 
shift; and now I have a sheep and a cow, every one 
bids me good-morrow.” 
‘ II. But with our industry we must likewise be stea¬ 
dy, settled, and careful, and oversee our own affairs 
with our own eyes, and not trust too much to others; 
for, as poor Richard says, 
“ I never saw an oft removed tree, 
Nor yet an oft-removed family, 
That throve so well as those that settled be.” 
And again, “ three removes is as bad as a fire;” and 
again, “ keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee;” 
and again, “ if you would have your business done, go, if 
not, send.” And again, 
* “ He that by the plough would thrive, 
Himself must either hold or drive.” 
And again, “ the eye of a master will do more work 
than both his hands;” and again, “ want of care does us 
more damage than want of knowledge and ;” again, “ not 
to oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse open.” 
Trusting too much to other’s care is the ruin of many ; 
for, “ in the affairs of this world, men are saved, not by 
faith, but by the want of it;” but a man’s own care is 
profitable; for, “ if you would have a faithful servant, 
and one that you like, serve yourself. A little neglect 
may breed great mischief; for want of a nail the shoe 
was lost, and for want of a shoe the horse was lost, and 
for want of a horse the rider was lost,” being overtaken 
and slain by the enemy; all for want of a little care 
about a horse-shoe nail. 
Mil. So much for industry, my friends, and attention 
to one’s own business; but to these we must add fru¬ 
gality, if we would make our industry more certainly 
successful. A man may, if he knows not how to save 
as he gets, “ keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, 
and die not worth a groat at last. A fat kitchen makes 
a lean willand 
“ Many estates are spent in the getting, 
Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 
And men tor punch forsook hewing and splitting.” ’ 
“ If you would be wealthy, think of saving, as well as 
of getting. The Indies have not made Spain rich, be¬ 
cause her outgoes are greater than her incomes.” 
4 Away then, with your expensive follies, and you will 
not then have so much cause to complain of hard times 
heavy taxes, and chargable families; for, 
“ Women and wine, game and deceit, 
Make the wealth small, and the want great.” 
And farther, “ what maintains one vice, would bring up 
two children.” You may think, perhaps, that a little 
tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more 
costly, clothes a little 'finer, and a little entertainment 
now and then, can be no great matter; but remember, 
“ many a little makes a mickle.” Beware of little ex¬ 
penses.; “a small leak will sink a great ship,” as poor 
Richard says; and again, “who dainties love, shall beg¬ 
gars prove;” and moreover, “fools make feasts, and wise 
men eat them.” 
‘ Here you are all got together to this sale of fineries 
and nick-nacks. You call them goods ; but if you do not 
take care, they will prove evils to some of you. You 
expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may, for 
less than they cost; but, if you have no occasion for 
them, they must be dear to you. Remember what poor 
Richard says, “ buy what thou hast no need of, and ere 
long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.” And again, “at a 
great penny-worth pause a while.” He means, that per¬ 
haps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real; or the 
bargain, by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee 
more harm than good. For in another place he says, 
“ many have been ruined by buying good penny-worths.” 
Again, “ it is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of 
repentance;” and yet this folly is practised every day at 
auctions, for want of minding the almanac. Many a 
one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with 
a hungry belly, and half starved their families; “ silks 
and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire,” 
as poor Richard says. These are not the necessaries of 
life, they can scarcely be called the conveniencies; and 
yet, only because they look pretty, how many want to 
have them? By these and other extravagancies, the 
genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of 
those whom they formerly despised, but who, through 
industry and fiugality, have maintained their standing; 
in which case it appears plainly, that “a ploughman 
on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees,” as 
poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small es¬ 
tate left them, which they knew not the getling of; they 
think “ it is day, and it will never be night; that a lit¬ 
tle to be spent out of so much is not worth minding ; but 
always taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting in 
soon comes to the bottom,” as poor Richard says; and 
then, “when the well is dry, they know the worth of 
water.” But this they might have known before, if they 
had taken his advice; “ if you would know the value of 
money go and try to borrow some; for he that goes a 
borrowing goes a sorrowing,” as poor Richard says; 
and indeed so does he that lends to such people, when 
he goes to get it again. Poor Dick farther advises, and 
says, 
“Fond pride of dress, is sure a curse, 
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.” 
And again, “pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a 
great deal more saucy.” When you have bought one 
fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appear¬ 
ance may be all of a piece; but poor Dick says, “it is 
easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that 
follow it;” and it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the 
rich, as for the frog to swell in order to equal the ox. 
“ Vessels large may venture more, 
But little boats should keep near shore.” 
It is, however, a folly soon punished; for, as poor Rich¬ 
ard says, “ pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt; 
pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and 
supped with infamy.” And, after all, of what use is 
this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, 
so much is suffered ? It cannot promote health, nor ease 
pain; it makes no increase of merit in the person; it 
creates envy, it hastens misfortune. 
‘ But what madness must it be to run in debt for these 
superfluities 1 We are offered by the terms of this sale 
six months credit; and that perhaps has induced some 
of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the ready- 
money, and hope now to be fine without it. But ah! 
think what you do when you run in debt; you give to 
another power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at 
the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor, you 
will be in fear when you speak to him, when you will 
make poor pitiful sneaking excuses, and by degrees 
come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, down¬ 
right lying; for, “the second vice is lying; the first is 
running in debt,” as poor Richard says; and again to 
the same purpose, “lying rides upon debt’s back;” 
whereas a free-born Englishman ought not to be asham¬ 
ed nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But 
poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. 
“ It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright.” What 
would you think of that prince, or of that government, 
who should issue an edict forbidding you to dress like a 
gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or 
servitude? Would you not say, that you were free, 
have a right to dress as you please, and that such an 
edict would be a breach of your privileges, and such a 
government tyrannical ? And yet you are about to put 
yourself under that tyranny, when you run in debt for 
such dress! your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, 
to deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in a 
gaol for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you should 
not be able to pay him. When you have got your bar¬ 
gain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment; but, as 
poor Richard says, “ creditors have better memories than 
debtors; creditors are a superstitious sect, great obser¬ 
vers of set-days and times.” The day comes round be¬ 
fore you are aware, and the demand is made before you 
are prepared to satisfy it; or, if you bear your debt in 
mind, the term, which at first seemed so long, will as it 
lessens, appear extremely short; time will seem to have 
added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders.— 
“ Those have, a short lent, who owe money to be paid at 
Easter.” At present, perhaps, you may think your¬ 
selves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear 
a little extravagance without injury; but 
“ For age and want save while you may, 
No morning sun lasts a whole day.” 
Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever, while 
you live, expense is constant and certain; and, “it is 
easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in fuel,” 
as poor Richard says; so, “rather go to bed supperless 
than rise in debt.” 
“ Get what you can, and what you get hold, 
Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold.” 
And when you have got the philosopher’s stone, sure you 
will no longer complain of bad times, or the difficulty of 
paying taxes. 
‘IV. This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom; 
but, after all, do not depend too much upon your own in¬ 
dustry, and frugality, and prudence, though excellent 
things; for they may all be blasted, without the bless¬ 
ing of heaven; and thereforeask that blessing humbly, 
and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to 
want it, but comfort and help them. Remember Job 
suffered, and was afterwards prosperous. 
‘ And now, to conclude, “ experience keeps a dear 
school, but fools will learn in no other,” as poor Rich¬ 
ard says, and scarce in that; for, it is true, “we may 
give advice, but we cannot give conduct:” however, re¬ 
member this, “ they that will not be counselled cannot 
be helped ;” and father, that “ if you will not hear rea¬ 
son she will surely rap your knuckles,” as poor Rich¬ 
ard says.’ 
Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The 
people heard it, and approved the doctrine; and imme¬ 
diately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a 
common sermon, for the auction opened and they began 
to buy extravagantly.—I found the good man had tho¬ 
roughly studied my almanacs, and digested all I had 
dropt on those topics during the course of twenty-five 
years. The frequent mention he made of me must have 
tired any one else: but my vanity was wonderfully de¬ 
lighted with it, though I was conscious, that not a tenth 
part of the wisdom was my own, which he ascribed to 
me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense 
of all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the 
better for the echo of it; and, though I had at first de¬ 
termined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away, re¬ 
solved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if 
thou will do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine. 
I am as ever, thine to serve thee, 
RICHARD SAUNDERS. 
Chemical Catechism—Chapter VI. 
[From Par/ces’s Chemical Catechism.] 
or LIME. 
How is lime to be distinguished from the other earths? 
Lime is of a white colour, and of a hot caustic taste ; 
it forms peculiar salts with acids, which is perhaps the 
most decisive proof that can ever be obtained to identify 
this or any other earth: it changes vegetable blues to a 
green; it is incapable of fusion; it solidifies water,* when 
sprinkled with that fluid, occasioning it to give out a 
greater quantity of caloric; it absorbs moisture and car¬ 
bonic acid,f when exposed to atmospheric air; but is it¬ 
self very sparingly soluble in water, and possesses the 
peculiar property of dissolving more copiously in cold 
than in hot water. 
In what state is lime found in nature ? 
Lime is never found pure; it is always in a state of 
combination, generally with an acid, and more frequent¬ 
ly with the carbonic acid, as in chalk, marble, limestone, 
&c4 It is found also in vegetables, and is the basis of 
animal bones. It occurs likewise in the waters of all 
springs and rivers. 
* Quick-lime has such an affinity for water that it will ab¬ 
sorb one-fourth of its weight of that fluid, and yet remain per¬ 
fectly dry. The water becomes solidified and identified with 
the earth. The heat, therefore, that is evolved in the process 
of slaking lime, proceeds from the water as it passes to the so¬ 
lid stale, and not from the earth as is sometimes supposed. 
t The effect of carbonic acid upon lime may be shown by 
the following experiment:—Add gradually a very small quan¬ 
tity of water impregnated with carbonic acid, to a jar about 
one-fourth filled with lime-water. A milkiness will ensue, 
because the carbonic acid forms with the lime an insoluble 
compound. On adding more of the carbonated water, and 
shaking the jar as these additions are made, the milkiness at 
last disappears, and the whole precipitates becomes re-dissolv¬ 
ed. Hence, it appears that lime with a smalt quantity of car¬ 
bonic acid is insoluble, and soluble with a larger quantity. 
j The vast mountains of calcareous earth which occur in 
different parts of the world, owe their origia, in general, it ia 
supposed, to the destruction of marine testacious animals, 
which in long process of time, formed these extensive and ac¬ 
cumulated heaps. 
“ For in vast shoals beneath the brineless tide, 
On earth’s firm crust, testaceous tribes reside : 
Age after age expands the peopled plain, 
The tenants perish, but their cells remain: 
Whence coral walls and sparry hills ascend 
From pole to pole, and round the line extend.” — Darwin. 
Fourcroy, in his Chemical Elements, has given a beautful 
account of this process of nature, to which I refer; as I am 
persuaded every reader of taste must be charmed with its pe 
rusal. See Dr. John Thompson's Edition, part in. chap. 7, 
sect. 1. 
According to Capt. Cook, there are in the Southern Ocean, 
perpendicular coralline rocks, formed entirely of sea-shells, 
which are of such magnitude as to render the navigation of 
those seas extremely dangerous. 
The shells of some testaceous animals in the South Sea are 
of a vast size. The kemo shell on the coast of Sumatra is 
frequently found three or four feet in diameter, and as white 
as ivory. See Marsden’s History of the Island of Sumatra, 
page 10. 
It may he remarked, that while testaceous shells are formed 
with carbonate of lime, the shells of crustaceous animals, and 
the shells of birds’ eggs contain also a portion of phosphate of 
lime. Its use in the former is not known; but the design of 
nature in furnishing the shells of eggs with phosphoric acid is 
very apparent. The body of the egg contains neither phos¬ 
phoric acid or lime: it was necessary, therefore, that nature 
should provide means of furnishing both these substances, 
which it does at the expense of the shell; which becomes 
thinner and thinner during the whole time of incubation, till 
the living embryo hath appropriated a sufficient quantity for 
