A VOICE FROM THE SOIL.
I.
"--the defenced city shall be desolate, and the habitation forsaken,
and left like a wilderness."--_Isaiah, xxvii:_ 10.
It is a fact, which has impressed itself upon all readers of history,
that countries which have been the homes of the most powerful and
cultured nations, are now great stretches of the veriest desert. No
country teaches this truth better than the extensive valley of the
Mesopotamia which looms giant-like in the dawn of history. Upon its
plains and highlands, the great nations of antiquity acted the
tragedies of their existence; like the schoolboys' snowman, they rose,
with vast proportions, in a day, and fell ere the setting of the next
sun. In this district, advanced and retreated with wonderful
precision, as it appears to us so many ages removed from the time of
action, the Chaldeans, the Babylonians and the Assyrians; here the
Medes and Persians achieved the victories that made them famous, and
here came all the great generals of old to crown their successes. A
hundred populous cities clustered, in the lower part of the valley,
around Babylon the great, the most marvelous city of any past age; a
hundred cities were in the upper half, with Nineveh, also magnificent
and great, as their center. From Mesopotamia come evidences of
art--painting, sculpture, music, literature and architecture--the
indication of a higher civilization. Still, today, even the sites of
many of the great cities are lost, and Mesopotamia is a stretch of
barren land.
To the west of Mesopotamia is the valley containing the promised land
of Palestine--it, also, has fallen from its former splendor, and is a
desert compared with the days of its greatest prosperity. Still
further west and south lies the land of Egypt, in the valley of the
Nile. It was the fostermother of science, and the shaker of empires.
It has fallen likewise; and a blight has come upon the soil, until it
bears the appearance of a sandy waste. Over the sites of other famous
nations of antiquity, in Europe and Asia, hovers, today, the spirit of
desolation.
The same story is told on the American continent. Peru, the land of
the Incas, once populous, powerful, wealthy, is today largely a
wilderness. Mexico, the Aztec home, is now a vast desert, in spite of
the evidence, through the discovered ruins of mighty cities and
gigantic temples, that it was once the home of a strong people.
Central America tells a similar story. It seems to be a general fact
that wherever a large people lived formerly, there, today, a desert
often occurs.
However, these countries are deserts only because human effort is no
longer applied to them; by proper treatment the lands would again be
raised to the flourishing condition that prevailed in their prosperous
days. Intrinsically the soils are extremely fertile, but are dry and
require the application of water to make the fertility suitable for
the use of crops. The soils of Babylon, Assyria, Egypt, Peru and
Mexico, raise crops of wonderful yields when properly irrigated; and
there is abundant proof that in former days irrigation was practiced
in these countries on a scale far larger than in Utah or in any other
country of the present day.
Many of the old irrigation canals of Babylon still exist, and prove
the magnitude of the practice, there, of the art of irrigation. The
old historians, also, agree in explaining the ingenious devices by
which whole rivers were turned from their courses to flow over the
soil. In Egypt, likewise, irrigation was more commonly practiced in
the past than it is today; though even now a large portion of the soil
of that country is made to yield crops by the artificial application
of water. In Peru, Central America, and Mexico, the irrigation canals
that remain from prehistoric days are even more wonderful as feats of
engineering and as evidences of a populous and enlightened condition
of the country than the massive temples and extensive cities that are
also found. In the construction of these canals every precaution,
apparently, was taken to have the water applied to the lands in the
right manner, and to reduce the loss to a minimum. In some places
immense canals remain, that are tiled for miles, on sides and bottom,
in order to render them watertight, and thus prevent any loss by
seepage.
Instead of saying, then, that the countries where most great nations
have lived are now deserts, we may as well say that most great nations
have lived in countries where irrigation was necessary; in fact, that
history indicates that a dense population, and high culture, usually
go hand in hand with a soil that thirsts for water. What can science,
the great explainer, say on this subject?
II.
"Science moves, but slowly, slowly, moving on from point to
point."--_Locksley Hall_.
A plant feeds in two ways--by its leaves, and by its roots. The leaves
feed from the air; the roots from the soil. In the air is found a
colorless, heavy gas, known as carbon dioxide, which is made up partly
of the element of carbon, or charcoal. When an animal or a plant is
burned at a low heat, it first chars, showing the presence of
charcoal; then if the burning be continued, it disappears, with the
exception of the ash, as the gas, carbon dioxide. Since animal and
vegetable matters are constantly being burned upon the earth's
surface, naturally the air contains a perceptible quantity of carbon
dioxide. The leaves of a living plant, waving back and forth, draw
into themselves the carbon dioxide with which they come into contact,
and there break it up and take the carbon away from it. The carbon
thus obtained by the leaves is built into the many ingredients of a
plant, and carried to the parts that are in greatest need. The plant
is able to do this by virtue of the peculiar properties of the green
coloring matter in all its leaves, leaf green; which acts, however,
only in the presence of bright sunlight. Since one-half or more of the
dry matter of a plant is carbon, the importance of the
leaf-air-feeding of a plant may be understood.
The water which a plant contains and the incombustible portions, the
mineral matters or ash, are taken directly from the soil by means of
the roots. The old idea that vegetable mould and other corbonaceous
matters are also taken from the soil by the roots has been shown to be
erroneous. The mineral portions of a plant are of the highest value to
the life of the plant--without them, in fact, it languishes and dies.
If a soil on which a plant is growing contains, for instance, no iron,
the leaves become pale, soon white, and finally they lose the power of
appropriating carbon from the air. If potash is absent from the soil,
the plants growing upon it will develop in an imperfect manner and
finally die. It has been found by careful experiment that seven
mineral substances must be found in every soil, if it shall support
the life of plants, namely: (1) Potash; (2) lime; (3) magnesia; (4)
oxide of iron or iron rust; (5) sulphuric acid or oil of vitriol; (6,
phosophoric acid, and (7) nitric acid or aqua fortis. The fertility of
any soil or soil district is determined by the quantity of these
indispensable ash ingredients contained by it.
All soils are produced by the breaking down of the mountains under the
influence of weathering. The broken down rock is washed into the
hollows and lowlands by the rains and floods of melted snow, and there
forms soil. Soil may, therefore, be defined, in a general way, as
pulverized rock. Nearly all rocks contain the elements above
enumerated as being essential to a plant's life; and nearly every soil
will, consequently, be in possession of them. Rocks, however, in being
subjected to the action of weathering, undergo other changes than mere
pulverization. The potash, lime and other plant foods held by a rock
are in an insoluble condition, and can not be taken up with any ease
by the plant roots. As the rock is pulverized in the process of
weathering, it is also made more soluble, and the juices of the plant
roots can then absorb the needed foods with greater facility. This
process of making the soil more soluble, continues while time lasts,
and every year will find the soil more soluble than the year before,
if there are no opposing actions. Therefore, the fertility of a soil
is determined not only by the quantity of plant food it contains, but
also by the condition of solubility the soil constituents are in.
According to the facts above given, it would be fair to infer that a
soil becomes more fertile with every year that passes. This would be
the case were it not for opposing tendencies. First, the crops grown
upon a soil remove considerable quantities of mineral plant food. This
alone would not seriously affect the fertility of a soil did not other
forces act in conjunction with it. The most important cause of
lowering the fertility of soils is the loss of plant food due to
drainage. In districts of abundant rainfall, as, for instance, the
Eastern United States, sufficient rain falls to soak the soil
thoroughly and to drain through and go off as drainage water. The
water, in passing through the soil, will dissolve, as far as it can,
the soluble ingredients, including the plant foods, and carry them
away into the rivers and finally into the ocean. This action,
continued for many years, will rob the soil to feed the ocean; in
fact, the saltness of the ocean is due, largely, to the substances
washed out of the soils. Most of the poor soils of the world have been
rendered infertile in this way. If, on the other hand, only a small
quantity of rain falls upon the soil--an amount sufficient to soak the
soil without draining through--the water will gradually be evaporated
back into the air, and there will be no loss of plant food. In such a
district the soils, if they are treated right, become richer year by
year, even though subjected to tillage, if the tillage be according to
our best knowledge.
In every rainless district, or in every district where the rainfall is
so slight as to render irrigation necessary, the soils would be
expected to be richer than in a place of abundant rainfall. Leaving
out of consideration differences due to local conditions, this has
been verified by the study of soils from many parts of the world. The
soils of an arid district contain more soluble plant food than those
of a humid district, and, with proper treatment, will not only raise
larger crops, but remain fertile much longer. They will also bear
harsher treatment, closer cultivation, and are in every respect
superior to the water-washed soils of a humid country. A recent study
of the soils of Utah has shown that the fertility of our soils is
exceedingly high, and that they will endure long and close
cultivation; that is, that because of the peculiar climatic conditions
of the State, they can support bountifully a large population.
Several years ago Dr. E. W. Hilgard, an eminent student of climate and
soils, threw out the suggestion that upon the facts just discussed
rests the explanation of the historical datum that the great nations
of antiquity on this and on other continents sought for the abodes the
rainless, arid stretches of the world. A large, active population,
which does not depend on other peoples for its support, must of
necessity possess the most fertile lands, which are found only in
districts of limited rainfall. In the whole history of the world, the
great granaries of the world have been located on the arid stretches;
and on our continent, the great West, largely arid, is becoming the
source of the food staples of the nation. Utah is the heart of the
arid region of North America; her soils are heavy with wealth of plant
food. If the time comes that her valleys be filled with people,
crowding in from the nations of the earth, her soils, responding to
the better treatment which science is developing day by day, will
display their strength, and feed the world, should the demand be made.
III.
"Therefore will I make solitary places to bud and blossom, and to
bring forth in abundance, saith the Lord."--_Doctrine and Covenants_.
Sixty years ago the facts of plant feeding, as just outlined, were
practically unknown. The erroneous ideas of the preceding century
still held full sway. In 1840 Liebig published his treatise on
agricultural chemistry which threw a faint light on the relation of
the plant and the soil. During the twenty years following, the
indispensable nature of some of the plant foods was ascertained; and
it is only within the last ten or fifteen years that the superiority
of arid districts over humid ones, for the purpose of supporting man,
has been demonstrated. Even today it is a new light which has not been
fully received.
In 1842 Joseph the Prophet wrote: "I prophesied that the saints would
continue to suffer much affliction and would be driven to the Rocky
Mountains * * * and some of you will live to go and assist in making
settlements and build cities and see the saints become a mighty people
in the midst of the Rocky Mountains." Why did Joseph Smith speak of
the Rocky Mountains as a gathering place for his people? Was it simply
because the place was far off and offered, apparently, good security?
If so, he builded better than he knew. But what prompted Brigham Young
to plant his cane by the shore of an alkali lake and say, Here we
shall remain? That certainly was not for security only. Perhaps he was
tired of wandering? Though he may have been so, yet he was not the man
to give up when near something better. Perhaps he thought the valley
fair, and the blue mountains may have rested his eyes? If that was the
motive of settlement, he, too, builded better than he knew. Certainly
it is that these two men who historically hold the responsibility for
bringing the Latter-day Saints here, did not know, by the world's
learning, that the valleys of Utah are filled with the richest soil,
waiting only to yield manifold to the husbandman; for the world did
not yet know, and had no means for predicting it. These men were not
scientists. They had no laboratories in which, by long hours, over
long drawn fires, and among a hundred fumes, to draw out for
themselves the law of the fertility of arid soils, which has but
recently become the property of modern science. It is not likely that
the records of a lost learning, unknown today, taught them this fact.
Though they had had such records, they were unlettered men, and the
ancient tongues would have been dead indeed to them, had they
attempted an interpretation by their own efforts. Why then, did they
bring the people here? Was it a chance move? A blind effort, acting
out the desperation that comes from long persecution? If an element of
chance entered into the location in the valleys of Utah, it was akin
to wisdom.
_And it was wisdom_ of the highest kind; at which the world ever
stands in reverent wonder; inspiration from the living God. The logic
that science, itself, applies to facts in the deduction of its laws,
makes it impossible to believe that the settlement of the pioneers in
the Salt Lake Valley was a chance move. Nothing, from the point of
view of human wisdom, encouraged the pioneers to remain in Utah--they
were in the center of a desert; the leaders were urged by many of the
company to go on, for there were fairer climes to the west or the
south, or on the islands of the sea. But the leaders were possessed of
a wisdom higher than that of men, and founded an empire on the wastes
of the Great American Desert.
Now, let every reader of this paper consider these wonderful facts: Of
the vast possibilities of agriculture in Utah being the same with
those of the countries where the great nations of the world have
lived; of a people, claiming that the nations shall in the future flee
to it for safety, making its home in a place which possesses the
capabilities of supporting the nations; and of the choice of that
country when it was named a desert; when science, the world's
knowledge, did not dream of the fertility of that desert any more than
it was able to give a correct explanation of the fertility of the
valley of Mesopotamia: and every honest heart will recognize the
unseen hand of the God of Israel, guiding the people of God to the
destined land.
End of Project Gutenberg's Joseph Smith as Scientist, by John A. Widtsoe