ALPHONSE 

 KARR 



(1 808- 1 890). 



268 THE PRAISE OF GARDENS 



observe a hill of beans thrusting aside the soil, or a row of early 

 peas just peeping forth sufficiently to trace a line of delicate green. 

 Later in the season the humming-birds were attracted by the 

 blossoms of a peculiar variety of bean ; and they were a joy to me, 

 those little spiritual visitants, for deigning to sip airy food out of 

 my nectar-cups. Multitudes of bees used to bury themselves in 

 the yellow blossoms of the summer-squashes. This, too, was a 

 deep satisfaction ; although, when they had laden themselves with 

 sweets, they flew away to some unknown hive, which would give 

 back nothing in requital of what my garden had contributed. 

 But I was glad thus to fling a benefaction upon the passing breeze 

 with the certainty that somebody must profit by it^ and that there 

 would be a little more honey in the world to allay the sourness 

 and bitterness which mankind is always complaining of. Yes, 

 indeed ; my life was the sweeter for that honey. — The Old Manse} 



/^NE of the chief charms I find in a garden, is to say to myself: 

 ^-^ ' I am shut up, I and my imagination, my body and spirit, 

 in a place filled with flowers, that is to say, with rich colours, 

 dulcet perfumes, and songs of birds (enchanting harmony, which 

 nothing can interrupt), where no one will come, except a friend ; 

 but neither mar-joys, the evil-minded, nor enemies can find 

 entrance, any more than my spirit can issue forth to visit thera. 

 I keep them imprisoned outside as I keep myself imprisoned 

 within ; I create for myself a part of the earth, of the sky, of the 

 grass, and of the flowers, but that part is my own.' To do this, a 

 garden must not be too large ; you must feel yourself enclosed 

 in it. 



It may be possible not to see the walls, but you must not forget 

 them. It seems as though Nature and Providence have intended 

 man to surround himself with walls, by creating so many beautiful 

 plants, which hide and decorate them wondrously, and which are 



^ The Old Manse was Emerson's residence on the Concord, when he wrote 

 ' Nature.' 



