THE GARDEN. 69 



these should be as rich and deep as any other 

 parts of the garden. What shall be pknted in 

 these borders will depend largely on the tastes of 

 the gardener; but, as has been suggested, there 

 will assuredly be one or more shadowy grape- 

 arbors under which the proprietor can retire to 

 provide horticultural strategy. This brings us to 

 that chef-d'ceuvre of Nature, 



The vine. It climbs by its tendrils, and they 

 appear to have clasped the heart of humanity. 

 Among the best of Heaven's gifts, it has sustained 

 the worst perversions. But we will refrain from a 

 temperance lecture ; also from sacred and classical 

 reminiscences. The world is not composed of 

 monks who thought to escape temptation and 

 vainly too in stony cells. To some the purple 

 cluster suggests Bacchanal revelry; to others, sit- 

 ting under one's own vine and fig-tree, in brief, a 

 home. The vine is like woman, the inspiration of 

 the best and the worst. 



It may well become one of the dreams of our 

 life to own land, if for no other reason than that of 

 obtaining the privilege of planting vines. As they 

 take root, so will we; and after we have eaten 

 their delicious fruit, the very thought of leaving 

 our acre will be repugnant. The literature of the 

 vine would fill a library; the literature of love 

 would crowd many libraries. It is not essential to 



