try to adapt the variety to the locality--not the locality to the variety--the sooner we will succeed. The idea is absurd, and unworthy of a thinking people, that one variety should succeed equally well or ill in such a diversity of soil and climate as we have in this broad land of ours. It is in direct conflict with the laws of vegetable physiology, as well as with common sense and experience. In planting our vineyards we should first go to one already established, which we think has the same soil and location, or nearly so, as the one we are going to plant. Of those varieties which succeed there we should plant the largest number, and plant a limited number also of all those varieties which come recommended by good authority. A few seasons will show which variety suits our soil, and what we ought to plant in preference to all others. Thus the Herbemont, the Cynthiana, Delaware, Taylor, Cunningham, Rulander, Martha, and even the Iona, may all find their proper location, where each will richly reward their cultivator; and certainly they are all too good not to be tried. Now, let us see what progress the country at large has made in grape-growing during, say, the last ten years. _Then_, I think I may safely assert, that the vineyards throughout the whole country did not comprise more than three to four thousand acres. _Now_ I think I may safely call them over two millions of acres. _Then_, our whole list embraced about ten varieties, all told, of which only the Catawba and Isabella were considered worthy of general cultivation; _now_ we count our native varieties by the hundreds, and the Catawba and Isabella will soon number among the things which have been. Public taste has become educated, and they are laid aside in disgust, when such varieties as the Herbemont, Delaware, Clara, Allen's Hybrid, Iona, Adirondac, and others can be had. _Then_, grape-growing was confined to only a few small settlements; _now_ there is not a State in the Union, from Maine to California, but has its vineyards; and especially our Western States have entered upon a race which shall excel the other in the good work. Our brethren in Illinois bid fair to outdo us, and vineyards spring up as if by magic, even on the prairies. Nay, grape-culture bids fair to extend into Minnesota, a country which was considered too cold for almost anything except oats, pines, wolves, bears, and specimens of daring humanity encased in triple wool. We begin to find out that we have varieties which will stand almost anything if they are only somewhat protected in winter. It was formerly believed that only certain favored locations and soils in each State would produce good grapes--for instance, sunny hillsides along large streams; now we begin to see that we can grow some varieties of grape on almost any soil. One of the most flourishing vineyards I have ever seen is on one of the islands in the Missouri river, where all the varieties planted