drained as wine; so, too, from its wood was made the
sacred _chest_ (_kiste_) in which, in the Dyonisiac mysteries, the same
secret was preserved under the form of a serpent, while in the
Eleusinian it hid the dread pomegranate which Persephone had tasted. For
they were all one and the same, this wine and serpent and
pomegranate--the type of life and of knowledge--of human birth, and
human intellect--of the world's generation and of eternal wisdom. The
fruit of which Adam ate, the bread and wine of the holy supper of the
mysteries of all lands in all ages, the pomegranate, whose seeds, once
eaten, kept the soul in another life beyond death, all have _one_
meaning--and this meaning was that of infinite revival, endless
begetting, the renewal of nature--and with this the _knowledge_ of the
great mystery which sets the soul free. '_Eritis sicut Deus._'

It was no small honor for a single plant to have furnished the wreath of
Bacchus, the wood of his cup, emblematic of the human body containing
his life-blood, and the material for the chest of the great
mysteries--meaning also the body and the world. I think, however, that
its philological root may also be possibly found in the Greek noun
_kissa_, and the verb _kissao_, implying strange and excessive
passionate longing. Such yearning would well become the Bacchantae, the
wild children of desire and of Nature. It is longing or _desire_ which
leads to renewing life, which constitutes love, which flashes like fire
and light through the beautiful, and pours forth the wine, and breaks
the bread, and causes the rose-blush to bloom, and the nymphs to cry
amid the mountains, _Evoe Bacche!_

Coming down from the pagan mysteries into lower and more literal forms,
the Ivy preserved two meanings. It was already the vine of life, and the
early Christians laid it in the coffins of their departed, as the emblem
of a new life in Christ.[4] It had hung upon the limbs of naked nymphs,
convulsed in passionate orgies, as a type of vitality renewed by
pleasure--it was now wreathed at Christmas-tide over quaint columns and
tracery-laden Gothic windows and arches, as a sign--they knew not
exactly of what--but guessed, naturally enough, and rightly, that it
typified as an undying winter-plant the resurrection. And they sang its
praises in many a brave carol:

IVY, chief of trees it is,
_Veni coronaberis_.

The most worthy she is in town,--
He who says other says amiss;