Page:The Collected Works of Theodore Parker volume 3.djvu/305

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292
BEAUTY IS THE WORLD OF MATTER.


daining narrow limits, has climbed over the wall, and puts forth its great yellow flowers. In one of them is a huge bee tumbling about : he does not know it is Sunday, does not hear the bell now tolling its last jow for meeting; does not care what the selectmen are talking of outside the meeting-house, while within the old ladies are fanning themselves, or eating green caraway seeds, or opening their smelling-bottles, in the great, square pews, where on high seats are perched the little uncomfortable children, whose legs do not touch the floor; he cares nothing for all that, nor whether the minister finds a whole new Bible or an old half Bible; he is buzzing and humming and fussing about in the blossom, powdered all over with the flower dust; now he flies off to another, marrying the dioecious blossoms,—the thoughtless priest of nature that he is, who does manifold work while seeking honey for his subterranean hive. Our grocer knows him well. "What a well-built creature that is," quoth he; "how well-burnished is his coat of mail; how nicely it fits; how delicate are those strong wings of his! Sevastopol is not so well armed for offence and defence. What an apparatus for suction! the steam fire-engine rusting out in the city stables is not so well contrived for that, though it did cost the city ten thousand dollars and that famous visit to Cincinnati. But why all this wealth of beauty? Is not use enough, or is God so rich that He can dress up an humble bee in such fine clothes? so benevolent that He will not be content with doing less?"

On the other side, the pasture comes close down to the pond: some of the cows stand there in the water, protecting their limbs from the flies ; others lie ruminant in the shadow of an oak tree. Wild roses come close down to the lilies, and these distant relatives, but near neighbours and good friends, meet in the water, the one looking down and reflected, where the other lies low and looks up. Spiraeas and sweetbriers are about the wall, where also the raspberries are now getting ripe; andromedas shake their little white bells, all musical with loveliness; the elder-bush is also in blossom, its white flowers grateful to the eye, as to the manifold insects living and loving in its hospitable breast. How clean is the trunk of the bass-