144 



AN OCTOBER ABROAD. 



But the look of those fields and parks went straight 

 to my heart It is not merely that they were so smooth 

 and cultivated, but that they were so benign and mater- 

 nal, so redolent of cattle and sheep and of patient, 

 homely, farm labor. One gets only here and there a 

 glimpse of such in this country. I see occasionally 

 about our farms a patch of an acre or half acre upon 

 which has settled this atmosphere of ripe and loving 

 husbandry j a choice bit of meadow about the barn or 

 orchard, or near the house, which has had some special 

 fattening, perhaps been the site of some former garden, 

 or barn, or homestead, or which has had the wash of 

 some building, where the feet of children have played 

 for generations, and the flocks and herds been fed in 

 winter, and where they love to lie and ruminate at night 

 — a piece of sward thick and smooth, and full of 

 warmth and nutriment, where the grass is greenest and 

 freshest in spring, and the hay finest and thickest in 

 summer. 



This is the character of the whole of England that I 

 saw. I had been told I should see a garden, but I did 

 not know before to what extent the earth could become 

 a living repository of the virtues of so many generations 

 of gardeners. The tendency to run to weeds and wild 

 growths seems to have been utterly eradicated from the 

 soil, and if anything were to spring up spontaneously, I 

 think it would be cabbage and turnips, or grass and 

 grain. 



And yet, to American eyes, the country seems quite 

 uninhabited, there are so few dwellings, and so few peo- 



