_Allusions._ But one may have the most perfect knowledge of all the words, his comprehension of the meaning of the sentence may be exact and full, and yet the special thought which the expression carries may never reach his mind. Ruskin writes: "Gather a single blade of grass and examine for a minute, quietly, its narrow swordshaped strip of fluted green. Nothing, as it seems, there, of notable goodness or beauty. A very little strength, and a very little tallness, and a few delicate long lines meeting in a point--not a perfect point either, but blunt and unfinished, by no means a creditable or apparently much cared for example of Nature's workmanship; made, as it seems, only to be trodden on today, and tomorrow to be cast into the oven; and a little pale and hollow stalk, feeble and flaccid, leading down to the dull brown fibres of roots. And yet, think of it well, and judge whether of all the gorgeous flowers that beam in summer air, and of all strong and goodly trees, pleasant to the eyes and good for food--stately palm and pine, strong ash and oak, scented citron burdened vine--there be any by man so deeply loved, by God so highly graced as that narrow point of feeble green." Words and sentences are all plain and simple and clear. Perhaps we pause a moment at "scented citron," for the citron as we know it is a vine bearing a melonlike fruit and we are not aware that it is especially fragrant. But this is another plant--a tree that bears a sweet-scented fruit not unlike the lemon. "Burdened vine" seems a trifle obscure--why _burdened vine_? A vine carrying a weight? What weight? The ripened clusters of purple fruit bending the swaying vines to the warm earth while autumn tints the leaves to harmonious colors. "Burdened vine" is a suggestive expression indeed to the person of a little imagination who has walked through the long aisles of a thriving vineyard. Is the passage now clear to us and perfectly understood? Does it convey to us what Ruskin really thought?--"Tomorrow to be cast into the oven." What a strange expression! Do we put grass into an oven? How came Ruskin to mention such a thing? "To be cast into the oven." We have seen "burdened vines" and we understand the "scented citron," but what of this grass "cast into the oven"? Back in the mind of the artist-critic lie the lessons of his childhood when an ambitious father and a strict mother intended him for the church and trained him carefully to a close and accurate knowledge of the scriptures. So when he writes of the grass of the field he almost unconsciously uses the language of the bible: "Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the field which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?" We his readers interpret his feelings and his meaning in this only as we have learned the same lessons. Examples of such allusions abound throughout literature. In _The Vision of Sir Launfal_, Lowell says: