CLIMBERS. 161 



vard in Nice, there is a lofty Cypress completely grown 

 over by one of these lianas. We are apt to take it 

 for granted that Nature cannot be improved upon. 

 Nothing can be more incongruous than a mass of 

 bright red blossoms upon a sombre Conifer. Never- 

 theless, the combination pleased me, and I wondered 

 that no one had thought of it before. 



What is there in these scandent plants that 

 fascinates us so? Can it be that, like the magic 

 Beanstalk of our early years, the Climber seems to 

 figure by its rapid growth and brilliant blooms the 

 passage to some higher region, the pathway to some 

 land of dreams ? In the dense dark tangle of a tropic 

 forest, as the traveller toils along, he sees no sign of 

 life, no bird or flower. Round him on all sides are 

 towering tree trunks crowned with a mass of foliage 

 which shuts out the light of day. Depressed and 

 gloomy he walks, as it were, in a deep dungeon 

 where no ray of light or hope can come. But far 

 above his head there is another region, full of life and 

 light and beauty and delight. Though he cannot 

 reach up to it, nor catch a glimpse of it, the climbing 

 plants, those great lianas with rope-like stems, have 

 raised themselves aloft and spread abroad their 

 luxuriant foliage and their brilliant blooms. Here, in 

 the warm, unshaded sunshine, flit and hover birds of 

 most brilliant plumage and insects of the brightest hues. 



Perhaps we admire the Climber because it leads the 

 thoughts upwards to something above us and beyond. 



Did space permit, I could wish to conclude this 

 chapter with those exquisite verses on the Vine by 

 Harriet E. Hamilton King in the " Disciples," but T 

 will not mutilate this perfect little poem by making 



an extract from it. 



11 



