THE sacred record does not state positively that grapes grew to perfection in the garden of Eden; but there is very strong extrinsic evidence that such must have been the case. The soil and the climate were admirably adapted to the growth of the vine; and profane history declares that from the delightful regions along the sunny banks of the Euphrates and Tigris men went forth in various directions to people the earth, carrying with them religion, civilization and a knowledge of the arts and agriculture. Prominent among these arts was that of making wine; and dear to those ancient worthies was the custom of using the fruit of the vine as a wholesome beverage, and rendering thanks for it as a divine gift. True, that good man Noah was a little indiscreet on a memorable occasion; and his successor, the righteous Lot, betrayed a similar weakness. But those were exceptional abuses of a bounteous gift that was designed to cheer and comfort, as may be fairly deduced from the inspired utterance, "He sendeth wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart." Bread to strengthen, and wine to gladden! Strength without gladness would be a mere possession without the power to enjoy it.

But what were the methods of cultivating the vine and the modes of manufacturing the gladdening beverage in those earliest ages is all left in obscurity. Not until about the time of the Greek Homer did any one appear to record these modes and methods in due form for the information and gratification of subsequent generations. At that time the Grecian peninsula, with numerous islands' sprinkled over the AEgean sea, and portions of the Asiatic mainland were already inhabited by a highly cultivated and practical people, whose science, art, manners and customs were embalmed in the unrivalled epics, the. exquisite lyrics, the exciting dramas, and the graver histories embraced in their literature which has been preserved and may be read and known by all men. If these merry and enthusiastic admirers of Bacchus are to be trusted, and the busy American of the nineteenth century has the leisure to peruse their testimony he will find, among other things, that: Great care was exercised in selecting the ground for a vineyard; that the soil might be of the most desirable quality; that the exposure might be faultless; that the tender vine might be protected by nature against the ravages of the most dangerous and destructive winds and storms; that an unfailing supply of water might be near to defeat the disastrous consequences of a possible drought; and that all the rules suggested by science and deduced from experience might be so carefully followed that the temperate and frugal proprietor could confidently rely upon his vineyard as a sure source of comfort and competence.

In proportion to its extent of territory, peninsular Greece gloried in a great diversity of soils and climates. Almost entirely surrounded by seas, it had a surface made up of mountain, valley and plain most skillfully arranged; and a soil of clay, sand, loam, or of volcanic origin, any one of which soils might be encouraged to produce excellent grapes; but the variety of vine selected, and the treatment administered, must be judiciously adapted to each particular case. A hillside looking towards the southeast, and possessing a volcanic soil, frequently received the preference. The spot must be especially protected against the north, northeast and northwest winds, either by abrupt hills or natural forests, or by groves or other defences reared for that very purpose. And then, to bar the inroads of beasts and lawless bipeds, a thick thorn-hedge was planted around the vineyard, and a deep ditch enclosed all. Within was built or dug the wine press, with the huge vat to receive the expressed juice; and a tower was erected where the watchman might guard the grounds against the depredations of birds, beasts and thieves, precisely as indicated in the Scripture parable of the vineyard that was let out to husbandmen.

The ground was carefully cleared of all trees and foreign plants and roots, except in those oases where trees were to be employed for training the vines; and then such as were required were pruned and allowed to remain. The soil was sometimes trenched and always subdued and mellowed, and enriched if necessary. As the vine-yard, when once planted, was expected to last for several generations, it behooved the original planter of the vines to bestow labor, care and expense with a liberal hand.

When the chosen ground was a hillside, it was usually terraced, and thus, like the famous hanging gardens at Babylon, or the vineclad hills of modern Switzerland, it added to the general aspect of the country a charm of beauty to be relished by native and stranger; and at the same time brought health and independence to the possessor.

There were three principal modes of training the vine, viz., on trees, on trellises and on stakes; and not unfrequently old family vines, that were cherished as heirlooms, might be seen climbing up walls, or adorning the front and sides of the peasant's cottage. Then, when the scorching rays of a summer sun had compelled the laborer to seek the cool shade at noon-day, he would be instinctively attracted to his own cottage door, and there, while enjoying an hour's repose, he might regale himself upon the luscious clusters hanging temptingly within his roach.

The slips were set with an eye to their future training. If they were to be supported by stakes, they were planted in rows and near to each other. If trellis was to be used, the slips were placed near each other, and in rows at a considerable distance apart; and when the vines were to twine about trees, they were separated much further asunder, and sometimes without much regularity, according to the taste or fancy of the proprietor. Doubtless each rustic endeavored to exhibit his independence and gratify his own peculiar notions and whims in the planting and training of his vine, being quite as loftily conscious of his rights and importance as are any of the 40,000,000 of American sovereigns who are living twenty-five centuries later; but there are reasons for supposing that the vine was often trained upon trees where the ground was an inclined plane exposed to the sun and having a calcareous or vol-canio soil; for this would best secure the vine and fruit against the intense heat incident to such an exposure and such a soil.

From the numerous and fragmentary statements of the Greek and Latin writers who have discussed the subject, it appears that the methods of planting, training, cultivating and pruning the vine, and the rules for manufacturing and preserving wine among those ancient peoples of Greece and Italy were as various as those now in vogue among wine-growers, and not widely differing from them; save that the theories were less complicated, and the vine was allowed to grow more strictly in accordance with the dictates of nature. That grapes were successfully cultivated in Western Asia thirty-three centuries ago is conclusively proved by the authentic narrative concerning the cluster of Eshcol.

As the vine is indigenous to the southern and western portions of Asia, and the southern half of Europe, including Greece, Italy and Spain, it is highly probably that the native variety was first cultivated in each particular locality. In due time improved varieties were gradually introduced from other sections, and the coarse native was forced to give place to the more highly refined foreigner. Accepting the testimony of the early historians, poets, and writers on horticulture, we conclude that the very choicest wines were produced in some of the Ionian Isles and in favored parts of Italy. Those spots were near the sea - a fact suggesting that the peculiar richness, flavor, bouquet, and mellowness so much extolled were due to the sea's influence. Among the Greeks, the places oftenest mentioned with affection because of the vines they produced, were the islands of Thasos, Lesbos, Chios and Cos; and the perpetual recurrence of these words in prose and poetry, wherever wine is the theme, furnishes evidence that writers, readers and hearers were keenly alive to the merits of the god so constantly in their minds and on their lips; and that they could make nice distinctions between wines of different flavors and ages.

One might almost venture to affirm that any' of those joyous old philosophers who were at all in the habit of attending public festivals or private banquets could name the year in which a genuine glass of wine was manufactured, provided it were not more than fifty years old. At all events they would cheerfully guess the age on being presented with an additional goblet: and it was their unanimous opinion that old wine was not only more grateful to the palate, but also more wholesome and invigorating. Nestor, one of the grand characters in the Odyssee, is found drinking wine ten years old. On other occasions, wine sixteen, twenty-five or fifty years old is set before the guests.

Among the Latin authors, Horace never grows weary while praising his fine old Massie and Falernian; numerous places in Latium and Campania were noted for the excellence of their conies, and thereby it came to pass that the sound of the proper adjectives, Caecuban, Fundanian, Setinian, Alban and Slatinian awakened lively emotions in the minds of poets, generals, statesmen and philosophers. Among the Romans, Caesar, Pliny, Virgil, Horace and Cicero, - and among the Greeks, save the divine philosopher Socrates, were fond of good wine, drank it themselves and sanctioned its use, but were severely temperate and exceptionally faultless in character. Such a beverage was believed to be ennobling and not degrading to those who indulged moderately. It therefore becomes a matter of interest to know the art of making and preserving wine, and the rules for enjoying the presence of this social divinity so often counterfeited and so lavishly calumniated in modern times. H. M. W.