MY FARM OF EDGEWOOD 



not always final or directly available, the very 

 intricacy of their nature must pique his won- 

 der, and enlist his earnest inquiry. 



A magnificent mystery is lying under these 

 green coverlets of the fields, and within every 

 unfolding germ of the plants. The chemist 

 is seeking to unriddle it in his way; while we 

 farmers, — by grosser methods, — are unrid- 

 dling it, in ours. Checks and hindrances meet 

 us both; both need an intimate comparison of 

 results for progress. If we sneer at the chem- 

 ist for his shifting theories in regard to the 

 nitrogenized manures — no one of which is 

 sufficiently established for the direction of a 

 fixed practice— the chemist may return the 

 sneer with interest, when he sees us making 

 such application of a valuable salt, as shall 

 lock up its solubility and utterly annul its ef- 

 ficacy. It is a pretty little duel for our intel- 

 ligent observer to watch: the chemist fulmin- 

 ating his doctrines, based on formulas and an 

 infinity of retorts ; and we, replying only with 

 the retort— courteous and practical. But al- 

 ways the unfathomable mystery of growth — 

 vegetable and animal — remains; the chemist 

 seeking to explain it, and we only to promote 

 it. If the chemist could explain by promoting 

 it, he would turn farmer ; and if farmers could 



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