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Acanthus. 
“ All about the cup a crust was raised 
Of soft acanthus.” 
Virgil very frequently alludes to this plant, and mentions it 
as forming the pattern embroidered on a mantle belonging to 
that immortal beauty, Helen of Troy; elsewhere, the same 
author styles it “the smiling acanthus,” and says it is one of 
those plants which the earth produces without culture. He 
likewise tells us that the handles of Alcimedon’s cup were 
enwreathed with acanthus, and finally places it amongst the 
herbs and flowers that grew in the garden of an acquaintance 
of his, “An old Corycian swain . . . lord of few acres, and 
those barren too,” but which, by dint of hard labour, the 
worthy ancient turned into a perfect terrestrial Paradise. Right 
well has this plant been chosen as an emblem of the arts, for, 
like Genius their creator, the more obstacles that are placed 
in its way, the more vigorously does it grow, and the more 
gracefully do its leaves curve, as if exalted and invigorated by 
the opposition which it encounters. 
